T'yeellaa's white-gloved hand was already on her own door latch when she felt Samus looming, extending a hand for her. She gave him a little smile, which became a slightly more pointed expression.

They were always two dancers, each wanting to lead. At times, it was fun to play with that dynamic. Then there were times like this, where they were each wearing their respective uniforms, and carrying on their shoulders what all that represented. Being a Meorrrei meant being acutely aware at all times that appearances matter. That, and despite whatever silver spoon she'd been born with, T'yeellaa was proud that whatever she'd done in service to the Navy, she had done herself.

The K'ohta'rrou carefully wedged her cap onto her head, glanced past Samus to make sure the coast was clear, gave him a covert air kiss, then exited on her side of the vehicle - all business.