[ York hasn't been up here yet. He heads on up to the top deck like Wash requests and is struck right away by the view... both of his old friend silhouetted by the storm and the desert itself. He comes up beside Wash and unzips the top of his own coveralls, slipping it off and tying the sleeves around his waist. The breeze is nice, and he rests his hands on the railing lightly as if testing how sturdy it is before he leans too.

Showing up was the easy part in this instance. Usually York has a lot to say, but he knows he isn't the most eloquent when it comes to talking about serious shit. He also knows that how this goes is important; Wash has already shut down and written him off already, it feels like. Just when it felt like they were making progress.

He breathes in and starts off with a question. ]

There's really just one thing I've gotta know. You said there was no other way and I can't judge or change that, or ask Alpha how things went on his end. And in a way it doesn't matter now. What does matter to me is how you feel about everything you told me. Hurting the sims, setting up the AI, I understand why you'd do it but it's more important at this point that you framed them as bad. So tell me. Are you going to keep doing those things? Or does it feel bad enough you don't want to do that kind of shit anymore?

[ Okay, so it was a very long question. It's York. ]