That flying trash hea - that uh, really really "well-loved" second hand scrap pi - ...okay, so maybe John was at the Take Foot; Insert into Mouth stage right now trying to be diplomatic to this guy. (But seriously, who could blame him? Not that John was some first class high-flier here, but c'mon. It just looked dingy).

Dingy and damned dependable and she'd outlast any ship in the galaxy easy. It took John a moment to realize that he was getting more of that bleed from Reynolds here, his eyes darting even though he knew Reynolds wasn’t here in the physical sense. Guess he felt that strong about the thing. John figured if he was going to be stuck in his body with this other guy, he probably should try to get along and that meant trying to think very nice thoughts about the ship and focusing on the real problem here. Basically it boiled down to how to –

“What?” John blurted. “What do you mean, how many people – ”

He didn’t get a chance to finish as suddenly his stomach twisted, the floor tilted, and their shared vision grayed out.

[Figure we can do the dream sequence with Harvey over here?]