"Oh damn, local himbo recognizes lean muscle, chalk one up for feminism." The new arrival flexes and then laughs at her own joke; it's a surprisingly unguarded sound, not bright, but genuine after its fashion. "Yeah, I can fling trays, and 'before sunup' is a bit of a bonus. I'll keep your hospitality an' your peace, no worries there..."

There's that sniff again. Her head cocks.

Her voice goes very low. "...You were on the damn ship."