The idea of questioning didn't sit well with Ahnciel as they were pulled into port. Though the technical officer was certain he didn't need medical service, he would actually much rather simply be 'released' since he imagined his very appearance would glean him a shred of interest from higher ups. This in mind, it was unfortunate how the large space suit was seen right through, even as he jumped down from the craft with the large tank of air in one hand.
"Zee gardener's veeds!" Ahnci barked in a manner that was meant to be poetic but came off as a bit self-condemning as he called himself a weed. He had no clue about politics and merely took reactionary offense to the idea of being sold short of anything other than the fleet he swore allegiance to. "Iz..." his voice came shakily as he sized up the security forces who'd mostly lowered their weapons after seeing the single unarmed being mostly encumbered by their own attire. From what was a glove, the zipper to the seal undone, movement within the palm was seen.
"I-I vahz hopink to see your...leader...whom" Ahnciel began, his voice growing progressively faint until the grating bark of Reuben's synthesizers made him jump. He hadn't even looked over before taking a few hopping steps, ducking one security officer's leg to trip them before the glove came off of their left hand to reveal a small shiv of reinforced plastic broken from the seat of the pod. A hook of a foot around Reuben's leg for leverage, they drove the shiv into the cyborg's abdomen, supposedly between the plating before it got caught.

Ahnciel went pale from how the slightest motion pinched the shiv to uselessness. "Va...vaht are you?" he whispered, slowly looking up from where he still tried to work the tiny plastic blade into the reinforced metal up to Reuben's face. Letting go, he took a step back, sidestepping to smash the tank of air hosed to his heavy ill-fitting suit against the form. Testing the make, simply confused and curious, Ahnciel didn't know where to begin when it came to the metallic golem-esque beast. 
The rationale behind his persistence was that if he couldn't take down their strongest, he had no right to assault their weakest. It was dishonorable to assume himself a worthy enemy if he couldn't defeat their automated defenses. How many would he take out? Making a mess of a perfectly good station that he wouldn't be able to deal judgment against would only serve to ruin a later haul and discredit the fleet's strength.

So spelled out the pathetic display as the five-foot-nothing creature in the bulky space suit and an oxygen tank in one hand tried to wrestle the broken plastic knife against armored cybernetics. They hesitated for a moment, panting as they fell to their knees before pulling the broken stump of a knife back and trying again, old worn boots squeaking on the floor as they put all of their weight and effort into prying into the armor plates of Reuben's abs. In a moment of thought, Ahnciel threw his weight to crack the tank of oxygen against the being's side.
Any other human would already be suffering a mortal wound, but delusion from two weeks in a hole and all of the exhaustion combining with faction conviction made for an interesting standoff. The expression on Ahnciel's face wasn't that of madness, but of determination, convinced in even the meekest of senses that he could bring down the technological humanoid fortification with a simple chunk of twice-broken thick plastic.

"Zeh...Z-zah iz! Vee! eeeehn!" he barked before crumpling to the ground as the dagger shattered, leaving him with most of a makeshift handle. With a groan, Ahnciel took off the helmet and let his ears flutter as he grappled exhaustion. Needing a moment, he held up his hand that held the oxygen tank which slowly rolled off. "I...I do not..[i].please[/i]" he panted, unsure how to voice his will to live, throwing the handle to the ground with enough force to make it bounce.
It was clear that his failure weighed heavy on him, though his mission was never voiced. Regardless, the impression that he wasn't equipped to deal with the threat he perceived was present. Why was he even here?
Alone.