She flashes a glare towards Wash, because this meeting could have gone easier if he hadn't spilled everything. He looks awkward, uncomfortable and his hand lingered against York's arm for a moment before he stood up.

"The population were doing a pretty good job of that themselves, long before we ever arrived," Carolina says. She stands up, grabs Wash's shoulder, gives a little shake. "So they could torture him," she says, but it was aimed more at Wash than York. A reminder.

She stepped away, pulled something out,, a strange glowing cube thing. "Grab him. We're heading back to base."

Wash stoops to help pull York to his feet, stays close up against his side. "Try not to... throw up. The ride is a little bumpy."

There's a flash, a lurch, and then they're somewhere else.