<span style="font-style: italic"><span style="font-weight: bold">â€œGave ya a run for it didnâ€™t he? The fucker.â€</span></span><br/><br/>She shrugged, smiling faintly, possibly amused watching him struggle to get up. They probably hadnâ€™t fed him. For sure no one cared about his comfort. Quietly looked him in the eyes, shifting her own weight off a knee that tingled a bit where it gave way to prosthetic. Sheâ€™d have been more comfortable sitting; would have if he hadnâ€™t stood up.<br/><br/>â€œMmâ€¦ Three, four hours maybe? Not just something to smash up, that.â€ But she wouldnâ€™t tell him what she had tried. That was giving away information a prisoner didnâ€™t need. â€œFive, huh? Very nice work.â€ NG figured that was a fib. Maybe he started the work at five, but that was no kid patch job. She sized the man up, casting a critical look up and down, maybe trying to see if he was lying. But she wasnâ€™t half so interested in that as one might believe.<br/><br/>And what was she doing anyway? Protocol all dictated that she shouldnâ€™t say a word to the man; wasnâ€™t her job to question him, especially since an officer hadnâ€™t done so first. â€œBut youâ€™re right, skip the pleasantries. After all, youâ€™re in there and why should we be nice to each other? Tell me about Godâ€¦â€<br/><br/>After something maybe, but NG honestly knew next to nothing about the old religions. It just didnâ€™t equate with her world view, no one ever told her about it. Machines and computers didnâ€™t answer to God if there even was one. â€œWhyâ€™s he hate us?â€ There was the propaganda that gave half-truths and sometimes complete lies. That was their job though, wasnâ€™t it? Demonize the terrorists; make them all out to be insane fringe thinkers and dull witted followers.<br/><br/>The prisoner just didnâ€™t look to fit either of those stereotypes and piqued NGâ€™s interest like the rest of the crew just didnâ€™t anymore.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;">--------</div><br/><br/>Azzy was patently surprised at Drenâ€™s reaction. Of course, heâ€™d never had a tail to be stepped on, so he supposed it might really hurt. An idle thought about asking Angela if anyone had ever stepped on hers passed when she ran after him. There sure was a lot of excitement, and heâ€™d missed too many meals and too much sleep for that. No, he pulled a bit more meat from the bird and just kind of grinned. â€œJust one eventful moment after another.â€<br/><br/>But then, harried to the point of no sleep for anyone wasnâ€™t any fun. Probably all just nerves and caffeine that held that alien together in the first place. Or hell, who knew, maybe it was just built to freak out at times. Xeno onboard might know; Azzy wouldnâ€™t understand though.<br/><br/>â€œâ€™Ey,â€ he spoke between somewhat distracted bites, â€œyous guys think Ange anâ€™ Dren like each odâ€™er?â€ Astonishingly like he hadnâ€™t even suspected this was an option before now. And he very likely hadnâ€™t.