<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/ncTr42c.png)</div>Tamrithra nodded. "You know her better than me; speaking of which, I suppose I should at least check on her."<br/><br/>And with that, she exited the cockpit room to the ship's living quarters. Taking off her vacc suit, she examined her blaster wounds, thankfully relatively minor. The ship did not have dedicated medical facilities, so the Nyemai settled with applying a pair of temperature-contextual slap-patches to dull the pain. Tamrithra took a few minutes to just sit there, in silence, taking in her surroundings. Thinking of Shokyou's technobabble explanation of Tip's self-care, she decided to prepare a meal for herself and her fellow passenger: two plates of fish prepared on an InstaGrill, with all the heat and flavor trapped in an easily unsealable synthetic wrap for up to a year's worth of shelf life. She didn't know the dining customs Tipperary was used to, but for Nyemai and humans feasting was a communal activity.<br/><br/>Doing her part to be unobtrusive, she re-entered the captain's quarters.