Kevyn: Ennesby, Get out of there. We're supposed to be growing a fresh A.I. for the ship, not giving you a new home.
Ennesby: Hey, look at it this way: If I leave, you've got to grow, train, and befriend an unknown quantity.
Ennesby: But if I stay in here, you get a ship that already likes all of you well enough to hang around while getting shot at.
Thurl: The pesky little virus has a point, sir.
Ennesby: Of course, some of you I like marginally less well than others.