He nods, clearly comprehending. "I'm sorry to hear that, my condolences. It's a terrible thing to have to watch."

Albert knows first hand, and not from the Arena. He was left standing by while Jet flew off, while Joe defeated one of the greatest evils known to humankind. Left on Earth to simply watch while his close friend and the man he loves fell through the atmosphere like so much stardust.

Twice.

Frankly it's a miracle that Jet was even alive to be brought here to Panum, but such were their lives as cyborgs. Now, here, they're flesh and blood and even though they continually are revived, he still feels that they're even more fragile than before.

"Pararescue, though. For the United States Air Force? I was German special ops myself, though more a museum piece than any field work. I can't say I missed the field." He didn't, not really. He would take up the mantle of cyborg soldier readily enough when Gilmore called them - those times when they were the only ones who could do the job - but in general he was more content to stay out of action. He'd fought and killed too much already.