"Eh, not really.  Not the healthy ones, anyways."  Valian wasn't sure if comas really applied to Deraen's question, but that was beside the point.  "I was asking more about the quality of the waking.  That is to say, depending on a number of factors, wakinhg up isn't always pleasant."  He gestured with his hands, as one might when trying to think of certain words, before continuing, "For example—and this [i]might[/i] be the same for your people, but I'm not the most knowledgeable when it comes to Andalite physiology—" Valian began crossing over to the food replicator, "but if a human doesn't get enough sleep then," his gaze flickered for an instant towards the man he'd been told went by 'Eight,' "by and large, it makes waking up all sorts of unpleasant.  Same deal if the sleep is of poor quality, but I couldn't really tell you why any sleep is better or worse, only when it is."

Just as Valian reached the Food Replicator, a particularly large cluster of mostly-intact corpses floated by the window. He chuckled softly, and said—more to himself then his squad-mates, but they could doubtless hear him if the cared to—"Well, they're sleeping deep, now aren't they."  He snagged pair of chicken eggs over fried rice and a cup of coffee—as if he was going to let that hunk of junk give him poison sludge again, [i]And let me tell you what,[/i] he thought to himself, [i]it's even worse when you don't have fleshy legs.[/i]

Valian turned to walk to a table, and said to everyone, "Just trying to make small talk.  We're going to be shooting and getting shot at together for..." placing his dish on the table, he flipped open a panel on his arm, and slid a few documents across his vision, "...however long we're working together, it's [i]probably[/i] a good idea to get comfortable with each other.  Should be common sense, but well..." he chuckled again, "I've been with Starfire for fifteen years, and some of you'd be surprised how uncommon common sense is in this great big universe of ours."