Alright, that's alright. [He won't push her on it. He lays back on his side; there's only so comfortable you can get on stairs but he can't seem to sit up longer, even with her having siphoned out most of the aches and pains. There's only so much healing magic can touch bone-tired.]

Huh. Like an army brat but for space. [She must be from the future, Dixon thinks. A future well beyond what he's ever seen or likely to see on anything but a television. Even if other species progressed more quickly, Dixon thinks of humanity like a flashlight in the dark, and other things don't really exist until they're in the glow of human knowledge.

So if she's interacted with humans, which she has, that makes her real.

(The music changes over, Arlo Guthrie to Madonna singing "Borderline".)]

I've only ever been on the one. It's not so bad, honestly. I like where I'm from.