It was an obvious shift in tone that made Fives uncomfortable. One moment he was wanting to short this AI out of the system, and the next, he found himself beginning to feel a little sorry for it.

     With another sigh, (which he realized he was heaving one too many throughout this whole mission), he undid the clasps and lifted his helmet off, setting it aside. Running a hand through his short-cropped hair, he leaned an elbow against the side of the console, brown gaze falling upon the screens as they updated their progress back towards the Ventator.

     "...so what system did you come from? That ship, the Iron Maiden. I've never seen those kind of markings. ...why was it out there?"