"Kamala isn't your daughter, or your priest!" Matthew snaps back with his voice raised, his hands coming down hard on the table as he gets up too quickly to his feet. Standing up too fast was clearly a mistake. Not only did he draw unwanted attention over, all the blood rushed up to his head and combined with the smell of synthetic food it was too much for his body to handle.

He winces and withdraws, clutching his head with his right hand as the sudden onset of vertigo made the bright lights and the machines buzz too loudly, the ship groaning in his ears. The rest of that 'you don't get to go on your killing spree and unburden yourself on someone else's kid and it's not fair on her and blah blah blah' lecture fizzles out abruptly as his boots stumble a few centimetres backwards and he grabs onto the edge of his table with a white-knuckled grip.