"Good as the Morganian sweets? Impossible. No such thing. What a silly question," said Iona with a light tinge of sarcasm in her voice. She wouldn't admit that as much as she'd loved that rich Morganian chocolate, its taste had faded from her memory. Ten years will do that to a person. Her grin faded a little; maybe this next heist would deliver the goods she really wanted: the chocolate and the strong booze that could make a person gag at first- but not Iona. 

Iona winked at Angelo, appreciating the flirt, and leaned back in her seat partially to listen and partially to watch her crewmates damn-near finish the chocolate she'd been hoping to binge on herself, apart from sharing with the Captain for good luck. "Toss me into a waste airlock or something--preferably trash and not feces--and I'll take out security, as usual," she said. She'd been through this many times now. She was ready. 

She jabbed a thumb toward Paul. "If you find any chocolate, refill my stocks, will ya?" And with that, up her mask went.