[ engineering sickness makes the jumps a lot worse, but by this time it's already faded to such a degree that at least she's up and moving, even if it isn't quite as quickly or easily as usual, even if it's with an arm slung across her own stomach and occasionally swaying in place or needing to stop to just breathe through another wave of nausea.

it'll pass entirely. for now, she's feeling better having showered and dressed, her primary weapon strapped to her side as usual.

if she's surprised by his question, she doesn't show it. (surprise is a funny thing — she saw the question coming before he voiced it, but she is surprised someone would think of it. very few people have.) ]

It's like background noise in a crowded room. You can focus on a conversation and listen, or you can blend it out. [ it's as good a metaphor she can think of.

she doesn't specify that she tries to listen, that it's safer to know what people around her are thinking. it's saved her life before.

instead: ] Do you have any questions about being here?