"It was wild, down at the Waypoint," he says. "Barbarous. Some kind of violent spectacle of a competition."

He shakes his head, revulsion clear in his tone at the (fortunately brief) memory. "We're between missions, it seems, so you at least have a chance to work on your focus."

He's not quite sure what to do with the compliment. It doesn't seem to register straight away, and when it does, the tips of his ears turn a little pink. He shakes his head. "As for my eyes ... they were blue, once. A color I much prefer."

A pause. "But that's kind of you."