Hearing the brothers bicker and whine at each other over the knifing breeze does do quite a bit to soothe Jim's nerves somewhat. It's almost normal to hear them fussing over each other like this, without the poison of accusation there'd been before. This is safer. This is fine.

"Perhaps we can trade youthful stories after we've finished our business out here. Over a stiff drink." Or three. They'll have earned it by then, surely.

"Plate mail and a mace. I saw what it did to your old armor...." Anger simmers but Jim keeps his voice even. He draws his phaser out of its holster to confirm to Stratos what he's brought. "This was enough to...Before. And that was a more dangerous foe than we have now. If nothing else I should be able to slow it down enough to give one of you an opening."