He might be devil-may-care humor on the surface, but as they exit the ship and begin exploring, Niou's senses are on hyper-alert. It's not that he's nervous, it's just what he does. It's also what he's paid for.

Right away, he can smell the slight ashy burn in the air that he assumes is what those air readings were warning about. Not enough to discolor the sky, it seems. The soil is soft and loose, about an inch of give under the feet. Vegetation is healthy minus signs that insects and larger creatures alike enjoy feeding off it. Rolling terrain. A few hills and valleys.

"Aren't you reliable," he drawls in a semi-dismissive way. "Try being quiet a little. There's life here."

And it might not all be friendly.