[ That ... aches more than he expected. Somehow. Did he expect his time-displaced father to welcome a strange son with open arms? Of course not. But he'd been expecting resistance and thus a chance to defend himself. Not this ... uncertainty. Aral is considering the possibility of having a son, but draws the line at seeing Miles as one of his? He'd thought he was well past the point of being sensitive about his apparently mutated body, but Piotr had torn open fresh wounds.

He takes in a breath, forcing himself to focus. No point for guessing what that question is about. Not with Aral looking at him with those eyes. He bows his head as if in apology for his entire existence. ]

An assassination attempt. Soltoxin. Mother was pregnant with me. You both survived, but the cure was an acute teratogenic. My bones never formed properly.

[ There's a deep weariness to his tone. A story he's told many times back home, and never here. (No one would understand the distinction. There's no point.) ]