[She watches the man closely, waiting for him to either make a move towards her or turn and flee. He does neither, vexingly enough. The scalpel turns in her hand.]

Just because no one on this ship wants to hurt me, it doesn't mean the people you're taking me to feel the same way. [That's her new working theory for now -- that if this isn't an Atlas ship, it's still a ship in Atlas's service. It's the only reason she can think of for why she would be here now.]

Whoever brought me aboard would be wise to drop me off at the nearest spaceport the first chance they get. They don't know what they're getting themselves into with this job.