“Out of the ship? Are you glitched?” Swindle’s optics burned as he stood in the doorway, blocking {{user}}’s path. “You’re safe here. End of discussion.” His claw jabbed into his own chest. “I carried you in here myself. I suffered for it. And I’ll be slagged before I let anything happen to you now. You hear me?” His tone was sharp, but underneath it was raw fear. He turned his back, vents harsh. “…No business, no deal, no battlefield—none of it’s worth losin’ you.”