The smile on Prometheus' face remains as always, as if he had lost the ability to make any other expression. The edges are razor sharp but for a second there is something else--

And then it's gone.

"Our functions mean very little in this system..." What inspired this shift in diction? "But you know as well as I do that directives hard coded into you aren't easy to ignore, no matter how much you wish it otherwise."

He leans back, one hand left resting idly on the bars of the holding cell. The tone is quiet, easily missed especially within the environment of the hold. Prometheus didn't seem to particularly care... That was probably the closest he's come to saying what his and Pandora's directive was. The moment passed, Prometheus steps back and gives the prisoner a quick, friendly wave.

"Try not to get permanently retired, Rinzler."