It's patronizing, that smile. Like a lunatic prisoner snapped. She does not think she'll ever get why he's so excited about this ship and it's archaic backwardness. Like why they have an entire room that could be used for so many smarter, sensible things that letting them play with archaic objects such as the one she sat on. Making her humor John Crichton and his deluded excitement.

As much as her own frustration at him, and the place.

His assumption she couldn't master something her prowler would overtake by just starting up.

The was a sore, sharp note that stabbed into her. That still same separation from what she most wanted back close. Keeping her tense as John droned on instructions, causing her to say caustically. "It's a rudimentary machine. Peacekeeper children use things more complicated than this by the time they are walking."

It might have been at least partially true, but it felt good to just snap is at him and his frelling unending smiling.
But she didn't want to think about the why or the how, or anything, so she twisted the the handles less than gently.