Junior blinked, torn between being slightly annoyed and wary. He was being threatened with the petri dish again? Really, didn't his father have anything else to use against him? Not that he was going to say any of that, of course. He barely even let the thought flicker through his mind before it was replaced with a decided feeling of vague amusement.
"Help them?" he echoed, lips curling a bit into a ghost of a smirk. "You want me to help the bipeds." He paused, waiting for the punchline of the joke, or at the very least a 'No, of course not'. When he received neither, Junior blinked again before all but shouting his next statement.
"You were the one who introduced Starfleet to the Borg and those were the bipeds with real potential. Yet you want me to assist the ones here with their problems?!?" He was, quite simply, beside himself over such a thought. "That's... that's ridiculous! Why should I help them? I don't see you helping them."
Then he fell silent and into a very obvious huff complete with a scowl to match.