Oh no. He likes that look even less when it's pointed at him. He can feel his skin crawling. Why the hell did he think opening his mouth was a good idea, again? Oh well. In for a penny.

"Not shocked, considering," he gestures around the, well, everything. "Oh yeah. They didn't even bother reading me my rights."

He sticks his hand out to her, "Commander John Crichton. That's mission commander, not military. I'm an astronaut." So, you know, he knows what the fuck he's on about, unlike this bozo.