“You’re testing my patience. If you can’t fix your computer systems how were you ever going to get anywhere? Were you planning on just flying through space aimlessly until you found people who could help you?” Fury had turned on his heel and then began pacing, he didn’t have a brilliant analytical mind but Dunnaman’s excuses were starting to sound like exactly that, excuses. He didn’t want to give him the information he sought, that much was becoming clear. Or maybe he really didn’t know how to fix the computer and had simply planned to fly through space aimlessly. It was difficult to estimate the creature’s intelligence with that odd drawl, but he thought it stupid. Somewhere in Fury was a soldier though, and drilled in him was tactical awareness that almost resembled intuition. Dunnaman seemed stupid, but Ryllan scouts were no fools. Dunnaman would be dead or captured if he was as stupid as Fury believed him to be. Something wasn’t adding up.

So the next question that shot through Fury’s less than complex mind, churned by mechanisms that utilised brute force more so than intricate analysis, was why the man was withholding that information. If he was. Did he know something about Fury? The Fireen’s presence was certainly a give-away that he was more than met the eye, but he had already admitted to being no real friend of the Ryllans. Unless Dunnaman did not believe him, thought him a spy or an officer in the Empire, thought he would bring destruction down on his friends. Fair points all, but if it were not that threat then what? Did he believe Fury so great a threat that he could destroy the people who had helped him? Were they so few? [i]Were they so weak?[/i]

Fury was irritated, it was difficult to think with the burning at the back of his skull distracting him. Goddamn the Void and its persistent nagging, its incessant whispering, its grating commands. Damn thing. If it were not obvious, the Fireen was growing more and more irate, and with that, his sanity was slipping. 

“I am starting to think you like it here, Dunnaman.” Fury said after some time, allowing the creature to reply to his original question and leaving a lengthy pause in which he paced. “You are making a poor effort to see yourself off the planet, after all.” The threat was there again. He might kill Dunnaman, he might strand him here alone to while away his days, however many they may be, with a desiccated ship.