Wardroom
Sienna's eyebrows raised higher and higher in astonishment with each crewman's contribution, barely able to believe what she was hearing. Not only had she not realized that Misato and Bors had actually been attacked on the planet's surface, but she could scarcely accept the fact that some of those gathered sounded genuinely convinced that the mind (or minds) behind this place could possibly be willing to offer them anything without a cost none of them would be willing to pay.
The new officer's suggestion finally almost made her guffaw in disbelief. Unable to stay silent anymore, she raised one of her bruised hands in the air. "Whoa, hang on a second," she protested. "I know everyone here is really proud of all the slick gadgets and gizmos y'all have aboard this ship. I know y'all are real confident in your supercomputer brains and all that. And it ain't like it's unjustified, I admit it's impressive to me, too. But let's put our feet back on the ground here, huh? That drug in the air made everyone here, robot parts notwithstanding, go almost totally off their gourd. Half of us wound up in the infirmary. I've even heard some of y'all whispering about the ship being compromised last night while we were all snoozing.
"Now, trying to make nice with this thing sounds like a grand idea, but for crying out loud, let's be realistic, huh?" she continued, sliding forward on the booth and lowered her feet to the ground. She stood up and looked across the room down to Hanako, unbothered by her haggard appearance. "I know I'm just a guest here, so I don't honestly expect y'all to listen to me. But y'all are outmatched here. This thing is way more advanced than us, and I'd be willing to bet it's a lot older and smarter than you think. And anything with any reasoning ability isn't dumb enough to give up that kind of advantage. Y'all think you can diplomatize with it, but I say you're just inviting more trouble. Whatever this thing wants, it's gonna get if we stay here long enough, and I guarantee we'll be getting the short end of the stick."
She folded her arms across her chest in a manner that was firm yet oddly unassertive at the same time, shifting her balance slightly to her left leg. "And no offense," she continued, looking towards the brown-haired officer, "but throwing the ship's computer in the mix just sounds like taping a huge red 'kick me' sign on our backs. You gotta have seen and heard what this place has done to us already. Don't gift-wrap the ship for it, too."