I’m not a hero, Ezra. I’m just trying my best to not be a villain. And what you're asking me…
You say they're poison, no sorry, that some of them are poison. We let them on and our biome will be polluted, the bacteria cultures all out of whack from new species. The air ducts choking off with, the greenhouses dying.
You have so little faith in technicians? You think we can't learn and catalog new variations on old strains? Our department can't handle new data in the models?
Or is it that you know how much that'll cost in finding? Is that it? You don't want to absorb the increased costs?
They're fleeing war Ezra. They're gambling their children's lives on finding a station with enough fortitude to let them dock. They've asked for two days Ezra. Two days to recharge their solar panels. You know we have the room, the food, the capacity to take them all in. They won't even be a full percentage of the population. It just takes a little funding, a little work to give them a home Ezra, a little work to save children from bleeding out on some station deck, from starving to death as their ship dies around them, from choking to death as the air runs out. And you're worried about new bacteria stations? About the money to do the science properly to integrate them?
You're asking me if my comfort, my luxuries, matter more than their safety, their lives.
What kind of monster thinks the answer to that question is yes?
Especially when all I had to do to stop you was keep talking?