"He's got bigger problems to worry about. If he overheats, he dies. That suit keeps his body temperature regulated. He was still pissed at me because I frelled with his cooling rods earlier that day. I was this damn close to frying his brains out." He pinches his finger and thumb together as he says that last.

"Maybe that's what you smelled. But the bastard's a cockroach so of course he didn't die. Besides--hey, wait. I run around in leather all day too, man. I ain't got that problem." Okay, fine, sometimes it gets a little sticky, but it's fine.

"Rorf? He was less a friend more a hired mercenary. But ah... in my original memory, he died. Saving me." He wishes the fake memory could have been the way it really went.