He caught the boy's hand and steadied him; he even tried to offer a comforting squeeze, head turning the the shrieks of distress. Whatever hope Pietro might have had in his father's sanity was gone. Stealing a bunch of people away from their families, children, and hurling them unprepared into space on some...rock, that was not even close to a reasonable plan, no matter how much you squinted at it.
"Utopias don't start with screaming children locked in cells," he hissed, "You have to get everyone to the ships. There's still time. You can save them."