"If you'd like to know what your ship thinks about the matter, just ask mine to open a communications channel for you. Much more civilized than a mallet."
Galen laughed. "You really haven't been listening, have you? You just may be the top rock star of your universe. In mine, Elvis has left the building. As a friend of mine once said, 'Every space-faring race has two things in common. First, they all have a food identical to what humans call Swedish Meatballs. Don't ask. I don't understand it. It's just there. And they all share a myth about a time when ancient dark forces prowled the universe, only to be cast down or cast away by an even greater force.' You may be that greater force in your universe." He made a gesture with one hand as if cupping something and then pouring it out. "But neither of us is in our universe right now. Even though I usually don't play well with others, I had thought we should work as a team since we both possess technology far advanced of the local. However, it seems you are even less of a team player than I. I suppose we could at least agree not to get in each others way."