[The feed opens with coughing. Cavil swallows the air in long, shuddering gasps between his coughs, wet with mucous and saliva. The tapping, thumping sounds on the speakers may be his hands fumbling with the communicator, though it's difficult to say.
Choke. Wheeze. Tap tap tap.
Choke.
Wheeze.
Tap. The feed snaps off. Silence. Then, several
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Things tend to happen here.
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It would be... the closest to what I was doing back home and ease some of the... discomfort I feel here.
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It's a curious venture. What are you going to do with it?
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I've heard it said before that the imagination is purely a human attribute. I'll admit that at times it's a deeply flawed, deeply inefficient process, and yet, there are certain instances in which it has its benefits. Wouldn't you say?
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I don't know how you got on without me.
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[He groans - his neck is sore. He rubs the back of it, though it's impossible to see with the voice function.]
We'll talk about this later. Now that I'm out of prison, my schedule is considerably lighter.
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Very well. If you require no assistance, I will leave you to make your way to shelter.
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