[He lets him turn, he let's him walk, and he waits until after he's far enough in front of him that he runs no risk of bumping into him a second time, and then he follows, at the same pace as before. Less, now, because he thinks he will impress upon this foolish child that he needed to be better than he was, and more because the hangar deck and the rest of his charges were in the same direction.

And he's not surprised when Parker snaps, and this time he stops with enough distance, as unimpressed as he continues to be. This boy presented no threat outside of mild discomfort.

It's not true. He lived. How much longer that would last depended on how long he would continue to be too stubborn to speak to them. Too stubborn to ask for help. They wouldn't fix the problem without permission-

With it, his disease was a simple, simple problem. Find the right place, find the right time, and slip through. A single ship in the darkness. One mind of many. Find what was needed, and return to them. Whether this would happen remained to be seen.]

We don't know. [And that is flat, even. Honest, although many doubt it.]

Some think that we are the only threat to them, but no one knows for certain. They have not told us.

[There's a tinge of something. Wry. Bitter. They have taken much.]