Wash is out here less because he's stir crazy and more because he needs a little space and time to clear his head. The camp's louder and rowdier than usual with all the celebrating, but he's never been the type for that, just wants to keep his head and focus on what's left to do. On Natasha, on getting her out of there. On the lingering specter of Vorkosigan Vashnoi. There's someone else out here, though, and ah, not the type for small talk, sure, neither is he, that's fine, apologize and move on, except. Those scars. His eyes narrow, his gaze flicking briefly down over to the stunner. Damn.

"Tarn, right?" Has to be. "Your reputation precedes you."