Tell me what does make sense. [a thin, ironic smile, falling in as they move up the corridor, glancing at Zam over Miles's head. the bewildered protests of recognition could be an act, but something in Bel doesn't think so. not this time. there were probably other times...? but not this time.]

That's lucky. Escobar's a fairly convenient hub. So you made some inquiries, were directed to Ausland, and encountered our crewman [it would be Danio] by chance when you'd arrived?

[the lift decants them and they file into 'Tac, Bel heading for their usual seat, reflexively activating a privacy cone for extra security; the slight shimmer around them all foils any hypothetical ears at the door.]

Did I? [i don't remember lolololol] Good question. [relenting a little] Our medtech says no -- not recently, at least.

[now, though, there's a chance for a closer look at the newcomer, unimpeded by force fields or curious crew. straightening from the console, Bel stops almost shoulder to shoulder with Zam, and with the Betan disregard for galactic bubbles of personal space reaches up to turn the shapely face to the light, eyes searching.

softly] Odds are I'm just unlucky.