[Javert's shoulders loosen their vicelike tension almost imperceptibly, his nostrils flaring. He doesn't mutter a thanks or even offer the courtesy of a bow before squeezing his way past the threshold. Immediately, he begins to prowl the entry room, picking up a knicknack here, examining a piece of equipment there. Anything he touches he considers intently before moving on.]

Nothing to drink. I won't be long, [he says briskly.] I am told you were in charge of the -- [his brows knit, and he sears Marco with a singular, wry stare over the object in his hand,] safety calculations for the mission.

[That went well, didn't it? His eyes drop back to the trinket he's holding.]

Certainly a long-established Monster citizen such as you knew better than to encourage this thing. With a handful of irresponsible dunces. So. What convinced you to make this feeble attempt? What were you and the rest searching for up there?