Tony's brow knotted slightly as he noted the fault in Luirae's step as he spoke up. He'd been expecting the sadness that came with mentioning Anderson even as indirectly as he could, but he hadn't really prepared himself for her expression at all.
"Yeah, that sounds about right," he replied, his voice betraying more of the sudden wave of emotion he felt. Anderson's death hadn't seemed real until that very moment, and all at once it felt too real.
"He is...was...Anderson was a really good man." Tony hadn't expected himself to feel so utterly overwhelmed, but Anderson had been one of the few crewmembers he'd felt at least somewhat open with.
It had all started when Anderson stopped him during a secret and not-quite-allowed smoke break in the cargo hold. Tony had figured it would turn into a lecture about the dangers of an open flame in the middle of a pressurized spacecraft, but instead Anderson started to speak of his daughter at length. It was uncomfortable at first, but eventually Tony warmed up and returned the gesture. He'd opened up to Anderson about his own daughter, his ex-wife, his disgraced career. It became something semi-regular - Anderson would bum a cigarette behind the cover of some cargo, and they'd speak to each other like old drinking buddies. He would miss that. And he never would know now why Anderson had approached him all that time ago. Perhaps he heard of Tony's daughter from another crewmember, or perhaps it was some sort of intuition that brought them together. But it wasn't worth speculating now.
"He has a daughter," he said simply, forcing the emotion out of his voice.
"I imagine she will be contacted." Tony's thoughts were, thankfully, interrupted as Rendyl walked into the door, and he stumbled slightly in a half-assed attempted to help her. But she found her bearings more quickly than he could offer any assistance.
She tapped at his shoulder before he could ask if she was alright, and the enthusiasm with which she signed assured him she was just fine.
"Oh, yes, probably," he replied, signing his words to himself as he reminded himself to keep brushing up on his sign.
"Doctor, she'd like grilled cheese, if that would be possible. Just bread and cheese." He added the last part for clarification, unsure which sandwiches she had in her repertoire. Personally, he'd probably only ever eaten a grilled cheese a handful of times in his youth. The life of a diplomat's son and, later, a Committee member came with more upscale food than bread and cheese. But, he had to admit, it sounded damn good right now.
Tony settled himself in one of the chairs along the countertop in the kitchen, pulling one out for Rendyl to sit in if she wanted to. He let out a slow breath as he sat down and clasped his hands in front of him on the countertop. His knuckles turned white as he tightened his grip on his hands, but he let it relax slowly as he exhaled again.
"I could really use a fucking nap right now," he muttered, more to himself than to either of the women.