"Oh, yeah," he says breezily, blinking hard to clear away the bright spots of fading vertigo from his vision. "A whole galaxy of 'em. Mostly gone now, though." He rolls his head back to look at her in what's meant to be a reassuring look. "Kind of dismantled their entire economic structure. Granted, it was slavery-based, and genocide-based, and also technologically oppressive? Just so we're clear."

He gets himself propped up on one elbow, belatedly coming to realization that this is probably one of his less stellar introductions between the amount of information and the severe, severe likelihood of misinterpretation. Whoops.

"Tougher than I look," he assures her with a hopeful lift to his eyebrows, just before they knit sharply down again. "Er. Well. No, actually, I'm probably exactly as tough as I look. I just seem to have a lot of trouble staying dead."