Bruce takes the moment to really look them over as he approaches. Hayley he'd seen in the video looking for a name; her texts had been sharp, sassy, and there was no doubt at all that she was unusually bright, for all that the intelligence hadn't seemed to diminish her optimism. A rare thing in such an environment.

Kirk, on the other hand, was a Captain, a leader among men, but still followed someone. He straightened up like a fresh cadet in the presence of a superior officer, rather than the blazing streak of pure cocksure attitude that Bruce had expected to see after his videos. So even starship captains can be pressured by theatricality--good to know.

Quicker than the captain, she's ready with words before him, and Bruce presses his lips together to keep from smiling. He likes sassy, it keeps him on his toes. His voice is bass when he speaks, but not smoker's-cough levels of gravelly. This isn't an interrogation.

"Perhaps too hot to touch, but that doesn't usually keep me from trying." A pause, and then an acknowledgement. "Captain."