Gregory was still unconscious, skin pale and waxy beneath the bandages they'd affixed. Rick couldn't help the condemnation, the complete and utter hatred he felt for the man as he stared down at him. Part of him - the very amoral side of him, he supposed - wished the man would never wake up. Staying immobile and unconscious, forever in limbo, was only half so much as he deserved for everyone he had gotten killed - good soldiers, good people - and everything that had happened as a result.

Still, part of Rick's anger at and contemplation of the man was ruined by the discussion going on behind him. Jesus had been looking at the creatures for the past hours, and the briefing he was giving was tedious, almost like the briefings he'd had to sit through with Eugene and the others back at his tribunal. One more sentence about molecular acid oxidizing and he can't take it anymore.

The smoke billows out from his mouth as he opens it to speak. "That's… that's real interesting, but it doesn't exactly get us anywhere." He didn't especially stop his hostility towards Jesus from seeping into his tone; the synthetic hadn't given him a reason to distrust him, but everytime he considered it the memory of white fluids on rubber flesh floated into his head and the idea dropped. "We're trying to figure out what we're dealing with. Let's go through it again."

He's pacing now, slowly but with agitation evident. The others - most of them, at least - shifted in place as he began again, slight annoyance visible on a few of their faces. "They grab the colonists, right? They move 'em over there and stick 'em there to be hosts, yeah? For these things." He tapped one of the glass containers with the facehugger inside, glad it didn't move. That glee disappeared, though, when he realized where this logic was going. "Which would mean there has to be a lot of these parasites. If… if we have one for each colonist, that'd be at least over a hundred."

Somewhere over his shoulder, Jesus nodded. "Yeah."

"But each one of these things come from an egg, yeah?" He turned, finally looking out across the room again. "So, who's laying them?"

Jesus shook his head. "I'm not sure." He looked vaguely defensive as he shrugged. "It must be something we haven't seen yet."

Unsurprisingly, Merle was next to speak. What was surprising, though, was that his contribution was actually useful. "Mebbe they're like ants, huh? Like an ant hive?"

Rosita shook her head dismissively. "Bees, man. Bees have hives."

Merle huffed out a breath, rolling his eyes. "Ya know what I mean. Ya got one female runnin' the show and all the men 're servicin' 'er."

Jesus nods. "The queen."

Merle nods. "Yeah, exactly, tha Mama. She's badass. Big, too."

Rosita shook her head again, still dismissive. "They're not ants, dipshit."

Merle huffed again. "I know that."

They started bickering again, and it was all Rick could do to interrupt and stop them. "Jesus, you listen and you listen good. I want these specimens destroyed, you got that? As soon as you're done with them." He paused. "Is that clear?"

Rick was ready for a fight, ready to do whatever it took to ensure Jesus complied, and he nearly flipped out as he started to fight back. Still, something about his actions - the quiet way he pushed back, the slight unease around his eyes - calmed him down enough to process the words. "Walsh gave instructions that they were to be kept in stasis for return to the company lab." Rick didn't even respond, and it felt like the room suddenly chilled with the silence. Jesus evidently felt it too, and he added another sentence to break it up. "He was very specific."

Rick was marching out of the room before the words had faded, anger boiling in his veins. He was going to find Shane and demand an explanation, and he damn well better have one.