Truth be told, if Nova had a real self, she couldn't distinguish it from one of the masks she wore. But then, it didn't matter, for so long she'd lived life as nothing more than a weapon, a tool for the whims of a power mad dictator. It was only recently she'd begun to live life of her own volition, and what she'd found, was that you didn't need a real self, as long as people liked the mask they saw.

Nodding again, she followed the woman inside, eyes scanning left and right, marking the exits, potential weapons, spring points, and items she could throw. It wasn't that she didn't trust the woman (she didn't trust anyone) it was simply habit. Once she had all these marked, however, she pushed them to the back of her mind for the moment, focusing on the tour of the ship. "What sort of ship is she?"