He looks confused for a moment, scrunching up his face like he's trying to figure out what you're talking about.
"What? No!" He shakes his head. "Look, Snaps... you are a specialist. You may be a little young, but you wouldn't be wearing that uniform if you didn't earn it. You get an assignment and leave by yourself, that's none of my business. I mean, I care and all. I like you, and it's part of my responsibility to keep people safe. But I also know you don't need 'looking-after.' You decide you need some muscle or protection on an assignment, ask me and I'm all over it. But if you decide you don't, that's fine too. You can make your own decisions, and it's no skin off my nose if you decide a guy with a gun is not a requirement. You know your job, and I know mine."
He shakes his head. "And you're not 'just another charge.' You're a lot more down-to-earth than some of the eggheds and wrench-turners back at the base. On the ship out here, you were the only one who we could relate to, you know? You seem more, I dunno. Worldly. I know there's a story there, but that's your business. I figured if you wanted to share, you would. Most of us have stories we'd rather not talk about, so we don't pry. But that's besides the point. We can be buds and mates and still be professional. I care what happens to you. I'm not some disinterested observer. But you can still make your own decisions, and I'll respect the choices you make."