[When Franz was younger, he looked up a lot to Fernand. It was a natural sort of thing for a boy to do, missing a father figure as he was. He came to think of Fernand as something like an uncle, someone he was fond of and someone he secretly hoped would give him that 'masculine' guidance that people seemed to think he desperately needed. There were rumors about boys who were too spoiled by their mothers and never taught to be proper men by their fathers, though it seemed like Albert was the one who grew up sensitive and mollycoddled.

As Franz grew up he began to think less of the adults in their world, and Fernand was no exception. Everything he learned came as a shock and bitter disappointment for a brief time, and he was a little saddened to realize it didn't actually require a stretch of the imagination to think Fernand, Villeforte and Danglars were capable of what they did.

It was just more of the same from the aristocracy.

Disgusting, and they are part of it too, rolled up in it, stuck. Franz always wanted to get a job off-planet doing something useful, in its own, sick way, perhaps now is when he'll have his chance.]

I suppose I knew as much and as little.

[Where it anyone else, Franz might point out there were plenty who knew Fernand better. Haydee Tebelin, Mercedes, the Count. But that's not what Albert needs to hear right now, or possibly ever.

Franz gives Albert's arm another gentle squeeze.] I'm sorry.

I don't know how someone like that made someone like you, but... You are everything he's not.