The Helmsman waits, but it's obvious she's not paying attention to the game any longer. He gathers up the cards, reshuffles them, and puts them back in their box; he didn't really want to play any more either, even though he can't quite say why.

He notices the tears splashing against the backs of her hands, and psionics, gentle and light as feathers, touch her face and brush the tears away. "User Disciple ith glitching," he observes quietly.