Partly out of curiosity about the Federation, and partly out of courtesy to Terzen, whom he quite likes, Dylan looks around him. There's a permanent chair in the middle of the bridge, around the equivalent position to where the Slipstream pilot's chair would be on a High Guard vessel, with the consoles placed around it where the crew manning them would be able to see either each other or the readouts around them or the viewscreen should they need to.

Dylan nods, unaware that his head is held a little higher than it has been at many times since he wound up on the Enterprise. It's the bridge of a starship, even if it is neither his own nor any part of the world he knows, and that speaks to a man who's spent his life on Commonwealth ships, and all his recent years in command of them.

"I know what you mean," he says, with a faint smile as he steps across to one of the consoles and glances down at it. There are, of course, no Vedran glyphs, none of the symbols he knows, but that doesn't mean he can't get a fairly good idea what he's looking at.

"My first command was a ship called the Crimson Eclipse. It was nowhere near the size of the Enterprise, let alone the Andromeda Ascendant, but it was my ship."

Of course, there was far more to the Eclipse than anyone would know from the basic specifications. The Asceticism of Action class was like that.

"Important work," he says, his voice quiet. He knows the feelings hidden under Terzen's words well. There'd been a time when that was the wort of work the Andromeda did for planets on the edge of Commonwealth space.

It goes unsaid that he understands how much Terzen wishes he could be with his ship, doing what they're meant to be doing.

It doesn't need saying.