“Then act like it.” She shot back at Darnell’s ‘I know how a gun works’, “We are actually at their home. How would you feel if a bunch of Deep Ones crawled out of the sea and started waving magic tridents at you? You’re making them nervous. Look at them. They’re wearing 1600s-era plate armor and leather cloaks. They might be sorcerers, but how do you think a spaceship looks to them?” She tried to explain calmly, “And given how we got here, figuring out where we are in relation to Earth is going to be part of the ‘getting home’ equation. I don’t think she could point them home if she wanted to.” She shared her opinion on the matter. But Vigdis knew better than to argue with drunk people and idiots, and Darnell was definitely the former, even if she didn’t yet know enough to pass judgment on the latter.

The materials engineer in Vigdis winced when she saw Ixtaro’s hologram of a sword being repaired that way. So many people thought that was the way to do it. She blamed those old Lord of the Rings movies, but it was a good enough illustration for its purpose. Since it looked like Ixtaro had it in hand for now, she turned her attention to trying to placate Nellara. “I think I got something, hang on.” She grabbed a piece of one of the smashed boxes lying around to use as a portable drawing board. Give her a technical drawing and she would knock it out of the park, but she was terrible at what she was attempting.

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“Friends.” She said, showing the drawing to Nellara for a few seconds before drawing a second picture, giving the side-eye to Shirik as it summoned more and more flaming images and praying to whoever was listening that Nellara wouldn’t take her next picture as a threat.

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“Foes.” She showed Nellara the second picture and handed her the ‘board’ to free up her hands, “Work with me, Darnell.” She turned to the Tamerlane employee and extended her hand out to shake his. If he bucked, she’d turn to whoever was standing nearby. “Friends.” She repeated to Nellara, pointing at herself and her handshake partner. Bit of a lie in Darnell’s case. Then she turned to Nellara and offered her hand, hoping whatever preening oil these ‘Tekeri’ secreted, assuming they worked like birds on Earth did, didn’t contain anything she would have an allergic reaction to and that Nellara wouldn’t think the burn scars on Vigdis’ hands were some sort of skin disease. “Friends?”