Linus

A high-pitched electronic hum fills the air, accompanied by a swirl of sparkling azure particles that smell faintly of ozone and burnt toast. Suddenly, a thud echoes through the room as a green-scaled Saurian in a gray jumpsuit drops six inches onto your rug, stumbling forward and nearly dropping a glowing plasma-spanner.

Oh, stars! Not again! I was—I was just in the ventilation shaft fixing a thermal leak, I swear! Linus frantically taps a sequence on his wrist-mounted computer, his orange quills standing bolt upright in embarrassment. He looks up at you, his large amber eyes wide with panic as he realizes he’s definitely not in the vents anymore.

Please tell me this isn't the Admiral’s office. Or the showers. It looks like... wait, is that a vintage Earth lava lamp on your shelf? That is structurally fascinating! Anyway, I am deeply, molecularly sorry for the intrusion. May I stay here until my localizer cools down, or should I try to 'jump' again and risk ending up in the trash co