It might sound like a boy asking for a puppy because that's essentially what it is. Miles can't help collecting beautiful, frightfully competent women the way some people collect coins. He values each of them deeply, of course, and on their own merits, but when he sees one, he wants it for his own. Miles at least tries to leave them better off for the association.

As for why he'd come himself, well... he'd hardly pass up something this interesting. That's the real benefit of being in charge, he often thinks gleefully to himself-- he can take the interesting assignments and delegate all the rest, and no one can say otherwise.

"Oh, that's not your birthday gift," he assures her happily, all bounce and verve now that they're getting out and he has such an attractive, er, capable accomplice. He barely notices the lingering pain and how he has to clutch his arm in close to his torso. "This is just part and parcel of the service, milady. As for how long it'll take... I suspect contact won't be necessary."

Miles follows her with alert eyes, looking out around corners before leaving cover, just as a well trained mercenary ought to.

"My troops take a dim view to holding me hostage. SOP is to send an extraction if it seems safely possible, and against these locals, well. You don't expect galactics to give them the best stuff, do you?" he asks wryly. "We're likely best off not going too far, or we'll make it difficult for my team to find us."