Nora pushed her glasses up with an index finger and took on a tone which, for an instant, reminded Sam of her mother. It was not a negative memory this time; not a complete memory at all, but rather just a feeling of familiarity. She could be as curt and concise as this, but still retain a measure of professionalism which robbed the listener of any definite confirmation of ill intent. Nora took on that authoritative neutrality and Sam marveled at the irony of such vast distances failing to separate her from those memories.

[i]"So she's violating orders..."[/i] Sam mused. That took some of the fire out of her eyes. Her expression softened, perhaps not considerably, but enough that an eye for detail might register the change. [i]"Kinda risky, doc. Maybe you're not as bad as I thought."[/i]

[i][b]"Maybe..."[/b][/i]

She perked up again at the mention of her laptop. She'd forgotten all about it! There had been some mention of a fluid handling system onboard, but Sam had not had the time to investigate what it was, or what function it served. For all she knew, it could be a defense mechanism. 

[i]"New priority,"[/i] she told herself firmly. [i]"I need that laptop."[/i]

She kept silent for Nora's speech, in its entirety. It felt odd, but she wanted to say [i]something[/i] to her. That compulsion felt out of place, and Sam sectioned off perhaps a bit more of her concentration than warranted to figure out why. Instead, she struggled against pins and needles to rise from her half-crouch, half-sitting position. She winced and resisted the urge to shake it out; the circulation would return on its own, in due time.

"Sounds good, Doc." She returned to her standing policy of avoiding eye contact and shuffled toward one of the empty rooms, pausing in the doorway to give a fish-eye glance at Nora. "I'll, um...I'll try to stay out of the way." With that, the door quietly clicked shut behind her.