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