[ He smiles at her, the expression edged. With a hand pressed to his heart, he croons - ]

And here I'd thought I was special. You wound me, Reine. If I am to be wretched, I should at least like to be remarkably wretched.

[ He drops his hand, then, and sighs - ]

But it rather puts a dagger in the heart of Miles' theory of me. I am not Vor; I am un-Vor. I cannot belong to the planet if the planet rejected me.