His stare doesn't waver for a few long seconds after Kirk has finished speaking, and then the chill of it simply drops away, turning back toward the rest of the bay. Everything seems remarkably still, all of this done with an ordered dignity, despite it being literally the forces of life and death at work here.

"If you'd said anything else I wouldn't have believed you. The only thing worse than the truth when people are already afraid is a lie." Kirk hadn't lied, but he'd seen his jaw work, known he was chewing over the admission. Even so, he knows he sounds like a book of grim morals, and that everything he is is at war with the sterile environment. He silences anything else he had to say about nothing being given without sacrifice. He hasn't left yet, surely that makes his intentions clear. A few words solidify them.

"Some of us don't expect long to begin with. I'm not planning for my retirement." What he did was dangerous, and he knew the same went for Kirk. What did a year or two from the end of his life mean to him? Besides which, a flash of grey might make him look distinguished.