Ennesby: Hey, Kevyn. I see you've met our bright new recruit.
Kevyn: I have. I'm busy trying to reinstall our ship's brain though, so I don't have time to babysit.
Para Ventura: Exactly how old do you think I am?
Kevyn: You look like you're twelve. You whine like you're six. Do you want me to add those numbers, or subtract them?
Para Ventura: That depends. Are you going to do the math yourself, or crib somebody else's notes?
Ennesby: Okay, Ensign. . . Let's stop teasing the man with the antimatter chip on his shoulder.