It might sound inadequate, but Anderson has very rarely been asked that with any kind of authenticity behind the question, and she's opening her eyes with a surprised lump in her throat before we can totally register it.

She's never liked space, always been a planetbound sort of woman, and having the only company near her muffled and indistinct to her senses makes her feel alone in a way she rarely is. Anderson can turn off her senses when she wants, so it's not disorienting, exactly, but it underscores how much she's just walked away from in a way she can't evade. Mega-City One is like having a crowd press up against her at all times, and solitude in space is... echoing and empty.

Someone being a good person doesn't mean they'll like her, or be kind to her, and Anderson almost doesn't remember what to do with this human sort of concern. "No," she finally answers, simple and composed. "But that's not your fault."

She peels off a glove and rubs at her face, unable to just fall apart, though her speech loses the precise formality of her working voice as she relinquishes that much of her posture. "The only time I've left my planet is to run errands for the Imps. Any suggestions on where to drop me off? I can't go back to the Meg; being a Judge isn't something you can just turn in your badge on."