[ Silco's eyes are searching, at his words, but there's little expression to draw from the man's helmet, read from the emotions that do not linger in his voice. He mentions his daughter, and her dreams, and Silco's thoughts -- as they so often do -- turn toward his own, and he thinks of the most precious item he has, something that is left in his rooms even now.

He spread his hands, as he spoke. ]

Oh, don't worry. You talk to enough of us, and you will get the impression that it will be... pure chaos. With the myriad of opinions and worlds, it's unlikely that it will be "perfect".

Yima herself, of course, would be quite bored, if we made it perfect. [ A beat. ] She will proclaim that she wants to reunite our families, if you ask her. Make of that what you will, of course, or how...important it is to you that your daughter and her dreams live on.

[ It's carefully neutral, of course. Naturally. ]