The instant Nick presses a finger over her mouth Connor nearly swears out loud. He doesn't, but his face twists in immediate anger at himself for the slip up. He can make excuses - more of his processes are taken up lately with his injury, he's been stressed with the case and the reality of what they're living under - but what does it matter? If anyone heard that, they're dead no matter what justification Connor cal pluck from thin air.

"I'm sorry," he says as soon as he feels the EM pulse thrum over his skin like static. It's entirely possible less high-end android models would short out as well as the lights, but Connor's made of much stronger stuff. "Shit, I'll be more careful."

But then he's listening, frowning more and more deeply as Nick talks.

"I don't think you weren't smart for joining up," he says, nowhere close to the blunt tone of his words before. "There wasn't much of a choice but them if you wanted to fight against what the Head's doing."

He looks down for a moment, then up at the ceiling. Doesn't quite know where to look. "That's what I'm having trouble with right now. I told you all I went through a revolution already, but it had good leadership. What if it didn't? What would I have done then? Helped them anyway, or kept quiet and keep being a slave?"

Connor's lucky enough to at least get to think about this. It sounds like Nick never really knew what the choice was before she made it - and even if she had, is it so invalid a choice?