"They are rather soft, though I wish there were more skirts available. I wouldn't like to complain about being provided for, but...I prefer them to trousers. They're familiar."

Call her old fashioned, but she misses them. She misses her own clothes. She misses the hoodies that she can lose herself in, built for a construct much bigger than her, feeling warm and safe and soothed by the scent of machinery. She misses being able to ask Max if he'd braid her hair for her, and then to go about her day feeling it there.

She misses the ship, greatly, and it shocks her how much.