[Ben seems content to listen through most of it, patiently waiting to explain what Dylan had told him, that he himself had made no comment on the actual rightness or wrongness of a death penalty so much as the distaste with which most who chose to opin at all dealt with it.

But then Rhade gets to the part about other forms of punishment and most of the shine of Ben is wiped off abruptly, jaw tensing and looking sharply down at where he'd been considering zipping up the jacket. His voice is flat.]

Death is preferable.

[He's glad to let Rhade change the subject, taking in a deeper breath, grasping mentally for that calm, happy place he'd found for a time, shaken loose at being reminded forcibly of PsyOps and how he likely would have ended up there, still might.]

Riddick and myself are fully capable of working cooperatively; we had only to request to be let in, and to account for all potential weapons upon leaving.