"So there's work like that too," he hums, setting his cup back down with low clunk against the table. "I should take a look sometime."

There's not much he can actively do besides fight, and even then, he gets the feeling that Ashti would prefer that patrol-work stays just that. A weird duality, but one he's not unfamiliar with: wishing for a peace to protect but losing the purpose to fight in that instance also. But heavy lifting is something up his alley. After spending years with half of him dark and inert, moving his body feels good.

At the mention of space, he looks up.

"You'd never been in space before?"