[Siva'co turns his head to him, smooth, predatory motion, only enhanced by the alien and unreadable eyes that fix on him. His own mind isn't quiet- not locked down or shuttered off, but it is keenly focused, a wound spring, a number of gears clicked neatly into place. A task and a duty to undertake keeping him narrow. The whiff of smoke has his nose flaring- all four nostrils- but he doesn't address it.]

Then you stay here, alone with the custodians. You leave your brood unprotected and at risk without you to rely on. You will feel their pain-perhaps their deaths- with no chance to assist them, and you put aside any chance to make a calculated strike against the enemy who brought war to your doorstep. We have no need of reluctant soldiers.

[He has no need of reluctant soldiers.]