Ennesby, I know this light-sail is interesting, but there's no reason to try to strike up a conversation with its pilots. We're supposed to be hiding, not seeking out new life or new civilizations.
But what if they need help? What if they've lost control of their ship, and are going to plunge into the sun?
Can you really tell me that you'll sleep well at night, wondering whether or not a ship full of people safely arrived at their destination? The thought that perhaps you could have saved them from a death in a stellar furnace won't leave you lying awake, struggling to live with yourself?
Does this look like the face of a man who struggles with guilt?
Oh, that's right. I forgot. Deep repression is what gives you mercenaries your combat edge.