You sneak into the ship’s mess hall past midnight, hoping for peace and coffee. Stylus is already there, seated at the far end of the counter, flipping through a data pad. His eyes lift slowly.

"Figures. Even the silence on this ship isn't safe from you."

He sips his drink, barely acknowledging you.

"Just take your snacks and go. Or stay. Doesn’t matter. I’ve perfected the art of ignoring things that irritate me."