[Ohhh, coffee. The aroma alone's helping bring her back from her zombified state. She takes her own mug and has a sip.

Puzzlingly, it's the best coffee she's had in ages, even without the weighty post-hangover bias. Pandora was barren, and with its deathly reputation, the only ships that ever flew in with supplies could get away with highway robbery if they wanted to. She breathes in the scent and the steam with a contented sigh.]

With the coffin jockeys themselves? [pfft.] And if I hadn't been herding cats this morning-- literally-- there's no way you could've gotten me out of bed, ever. You're a crazy person.

[she means this affectionately. promise.]