Good morning, inmates. Today is the 173rd day of the third generation, and today will be pleasantly warm and mild, so please enjoy yourselves.

I suppose I should explain my comments from yesterday, now. I have begun to question the wisdom of operating the facility in this way. I know that while all of you did commit the crimes for which you are convicted, it is strange to look at the act of committing a crime without taking into account the context and the intentions that it was committed with.

As a robot, I suppose there are some of you who believe that it's natural for me to look at the cold hard facts -- she robbed a bank -- and pass judgment without taking into consideration that she didn't want to, and perhaps was forced to do so. But the closer I get to all of you, the more that I think, "She should be granted leniency because of her circumstances and her regret."

Obviously it is too late for everyone here, because as I have mentioned before, there is still no route back home for any of you. What's done is... done.

But I think at the very least, I need to review my policy on what I consider to be a crime. It's only what's -- fair.

And for you -- I think I might be able to manage something for you, too, given some thought.



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[It’s been a fine day to be out and about the dome. There’s always something to catch your eye and interest you, that’s for sure. And in his days of prowling around, late night or not, Tyki’s taken himself to parts of the dome he’d never really cared to investigate before. He thought he’d heard something in particular about this—this memorial garden—but it’s not until he’s standing in front of it that it sort of rings a clearer bell.

So that’s why you get to see it, the camera switching on to look it over before shifting to the partially undone collar of one Tyki Mikk. He’s sitting in the grass next to the garden, initially a little bored seeming but he’s quick to quirk for the rolling feed. It’s a rarity he bothers with it.] Pretty little set up, isn’t it.

The two others, too. But this one… this one seemed so familiar.

… And then I remembered. [Grinning, as if something was indeed much more amusing to him than it would ever be to explain. He waggles his cigarette in the air between two fingers.] Truly tragic, of course. Whole ship gone. [He snaps his fingers.] Just like that.

Anita, huh. So that was her name. [Dismissive, he really doesn’t care.

Clearly an evident fact by the way he purposely both stubs his cigarette out on her plaque and ensures the camera catches the gesture.] Heard she was a brothel owner too.