She likes the smirk. She reaches up to touch it. "I'll see you in two months, doc. Don't let that flirty nurse seduce you in the meanwhile. I have his ticket."

"I'm a one-person man, Joss," he kisses her touch, "I would never."

Now she's the one blushing. Who is she and what has he done with Joss Fray.

"Come on, now." He takes one of her hands, slipping it under the box, "The sooner you leave, the sooner you'll return."

Her attention is all on him and only a little bit on the box. Just enough to not drop it. "I'll ping you once we're on the other side. Make sure you get access to the net. I don't wanna land and be standing there with no idea where I'm going."

"Certainly not. The next step in the process will be ready for you when you land."

He steps back a bit, leaving the box to her.

"Safe travels."

Her fingers twitch under the box, but she holds it steady. She huffs loudly and looks over to the closest security. "You watch that nurse too, mate. You know the one I'm talking about."

And with that, she turns and makes her way over to the ship which is now ready and waiting on her.

The guard laughs, startled, but he does also call, "Aye, Sergeant!" To her retreating back. Val's soft sigh fades from hearing as she reaches the ship.

She's a big old girl, a cargo vessel made to make long haul trips out to colonies off the sparse grid of rebuilt relays throughout the galaxy. Probably thirty, forty years old, past her prime, but still fast enough to get from the nowhere planet where they stand to the station at relay point thirteen within a standard month. Which is the important bit.

Just to the side of the cargo door, the Lagrange's SIC - a tall human man, bulky spacer's jacket draped over his arm in the relative heat planet-side - is directing the last few cargo crates upwards, between chatting with a customs agent. He waves the woman off as Joss approaches with the package.

"That it?" He asks once she's in range.

"Just me and my box. May I come aboard, capitaine?"

He eyes the box for a second, before nodding and turning to lead her up to ramp.

The cargo bay is about half full with goods from the colony, mainly food and raw materials. There's a carefully sealed crate of eezo in the secure storage as well, from the small mine that makes this colony valuable enough to be counted as part of Alliance Space, despite the inconvenience of reaching it.

Alex leads their guest out of the bay and into the corridors. The crew bustles by them, preparing for lift-off, some of them heading to the bay, some towards the lifts, some going in and out of the nearby engineering bay, some heading up the corridor to the crew quarters for one last long water shower before the water lines get detached. They follow the second group to the lifts, and from there up to the officers' cabins.

"We keep a cabin free for guests. Your luggage should already be in there," he says as they step off the lift. "If anything's missing, let someone know and we'll dig it out for you after we're on our way."

"This is luxury compared to the barracks. We're timesharing beds and blankets, the whole lot. Any place I shouldn't be?"

He shrugs, "Cargo bay. Engineering. Other peoples' quarters. I mean, if you get invited in, feel free, just don't go into engineering without someone watching you."

Here's her door now. He opens his tool to tap into the security on it, flicking it over to her, "Accept and it'll open for your tool."

"Don't know shit about engines, I'm good." She flicks her wrist and her tool accepts. "Meal times?"

"Every six hours starting at oh-five-hundred, for two hours. Ship time, twenty-four hour clock, it's twenty-one-oh-seven right now. Next meal starts at twenty-three-hundred." 

"Copacetic. You been on this haul long? I don't make it up to port often."

"Year and a half," he says, crossing his arms, "We run this route every three months, usually, cycling with another long haul from thirteen. Steady work."

"Steady but shit. I know the feeling. We came out for a gig and got stuck. This is my first time I'm off-planet since. Can't wait to get a real drink. Only thing we have access to is batarian stock."

He makes a face, "I got a stock of decent eden whiskey," he offers, "Bit of icewine, too. And the engineers've been brewing something they think I don't know about, if you wanna risk whatever that is."

"Risk is my middle name. I'll grab some for the both of us. Saves you tipping your hand."

He snorts, "Appreciate it. Wouldn't wanna end their science experiment early."

"Of course. For the science," she laughs and opens up the door to her quarters. She notes all her luggage - a standard military duffel and one carefully placed guitar case - and then puts her box up on the shelf above the bed.

Alex notes the guitar before anything else.

"You play?"

Pff. "You could say that."

Blink, "Okay, am I missing something," he turns to squint at her through the doorway.