She laughs as she gets settled across from him, setting a glass of bourbon — or whatever passes for it in these parts —on the table. It's a sweet laugh, like songbirds flirting around church bells, something innocent and disarming.

"I don't mind a bit. As a matter of fact, I ain't. Are you?"

She hasn't seen him on the ship before now, and he don't wear the strange colorful jumpsuits the officers aboard do; however, stranger things have happened. Could be he's at least from a place where traveling by space boat isn't so unusual, and he ain't wrong. All this? Is new to her.