Ephrim stares up into the stars, silent, taking what Rosinante says under serious consideration. This is quite an investment of time and energy into what looks to Ephrim like a bit like a losing battle for a world neither of them are from. He seems responsible. Or desperate. Or, perhaps, a bit like a hero, for as much value as that holds here in death.

"Has there been progress beyond what you've said? That they are stars, and they are being consumed." He tilts his head. "And if there is some brave star up there made of some stronger stuff than the others, how are we to know what devices it used to make itself unpalatable?" He's asking simply out of curiosity, not out of a wish to point out fatal flaws with Rosinante's efforts. "I've read of telescopes in this world of such power that they can pierce through space unfathomable, but no such things exist on current maps of this place."