Dren laughed in an awkward way. He followed her to the mess hall and it was odd that most of the crew were the same basic shapes, but Angela was obviously different, with almost Nekan features. He assumed that most Mandkinds were like the majority of the crew, while Angela was obviously something else, or perhaps a Mandkind with serious genetic alterations. He didn't want to ask, though, as he thought the subject would be a touchy one. She obviously wasn't comfortable with the way people stared and seemed quite versed in dealing with it.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">"Being different on a ship full of people can suck but the cause we fight for makes the uncomfortable moments and out of place feeling worth it" </span>Dren nodded, not really sure what the 'cause' was, but it obviously seemed important..<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">"So you left your people to see if there was something on the other end of the galaxy and found yourself in the middle of a religious where a dying race is fighting to survive? Quite a situation huh?" </span><br/><br/>Oh...<br/><br/>Dren stopped when he finally realized what the fighting was all about. Standing still before the door to the mess hall, his eyes went to the floor. He came from a race so over populated, he didn't know what it was like to live among so few. Now that he was alone in this part of the galaxy with no other Nekan around, he could somewhat relate. He had religions where he came from but none as fanatic as these people they were facing.<br/><br/>"Yes, it is rather, Xarn..." he said, the translator not finding a suitable word for what he had said, "There's so few of you Mankinds and so many Nekans where I'm from. I can't fathom the feeling of being so...." he paused for a moment, then raised his large eyes to hers, "Desperate."