It was certainly sounding like this Dylan was siding with Rommie, who, just a few hours ago had taken one look at Telemachus and responded that his blood alcohol level was practically toxic...and probably grateful he wasn't trying to take a seat in the pilots chair. Don't fly drunk.

"You never know until you try, Captain." Rhade slid that in there, throwing him a bone since this wasn't his Dylan and it took too much effort to hate him. He was too lazy to hate him. Being drunk was easier.

"You know, if you stopped getting yourself into foolishly suicidal positions, we wouldn't need to save you." Telemachus was definitely slurring his words as he poured himself another cup.