Tybalt’s peal of laughter is anything but offended, but he pulls an obligatory face. “I look nice.” He insists, rather in the way a toddler who picked their own clothing today also would. He doesn’t resist or duck away, used to her interference by now. And anyway, if it’s Lydia, it’s probably a cute pin. He does take the opportunity to continue eating her food.

“You and me? We’re gonna help them do it, and then mutiny right when we’ve earned their trust. Take their technology for our own, and profit.”