The ship was taking the lazy way around, and Rachel just watched the view outside the window as she considered the things that Rogue was saying. The whole concept of a soul was something else that she wasn't entirely clear on. She knew the definition of the word, but that wasn't always the thing. Like family. The definition didn't stand for all those little connected emotions and other terms. Of course there was also the question of whether or not she had a soul, having been created in a lab.
He's always been there. He's the first thing I remember. He has, she stopped to try and find the right word, raised me. Someone else might use the term father. Dr. Essex had never used that word with her, though he had occasionally called her the best thing he had created. She toyed with the idea of whether or not to admit her next thought and did it anyway. I never thought to question him. What he says was all I knew for as long as I was cognizant, which has not been for very long.
Rachel wasn't sure what to do. She knew what she wanted to do, but she was concerned that she might not have the control for it. Or that Rogue wouldn't want her to. So instead of doing anything, she crossed her arms over her chest and watched their oddly slow going approach to Nova Roma. I expect we're aiming for a moon.