Geron's eyes flick to the Captain as he savors the chill of the Navigator's touch. He shoves the wineglass into the hand of a handmaiden (they had better know not to spill even a single drop) and stalks towards the insubordinate officer. His earlier euphoric tone has switched to icy as he addresses the man.

"If I have to take a drop pod you will be strapped to the bottom to cushion our fall, Captain. But rest assured I will have it pried out of the ground so I can appreciate the condition of your body afterwards, your sacrifice would not go unappreciated. Or you can do your damned job and fly us where I want to go."

Squarehammer looms behind Geron, hefting his thunder hammer in his hands.

"Certain death or depend on your skills, the choice belongs to you."