[ As noticeable as it might be, Egil's still a little focused on trying to eat without taking Wash's entire plate from him. Starving himself for the last few days hadn't been a good plan, but it's not as if he hasn't gone longer without it either. If he presses a bit more, it's unconscious at best, and as friendly as he thinks Egil might be-- that's not usually the case unless he's sure he can get something out of it. He does pause though, turning to get a better look at him, and slowly, he sets the spoon down on the table, hand wiping at his mouth.

Why did everyone keep asking him that like it was going to change their situation? He didn't get it. ]

Earth. [ The frown that had passed across his face is back again. ] 2250. [ He tries not to spit the date out, but it tastes a little bitter in his mouth as he says it. ] I don't know what you mean by fringe star system, but there's not much there for me. You seem nicer than most of people I know anyway. [ He hates that he's so susceptible to small kindnesses, and Wash had (potentially) risked his life to prove he wouldn't have to die of hunger for as long as they were stuck here. Hopefully. Egil didn't want that sort of debt on his conscience. ] I can be useful.

[ Not exactly the best way to sell himself, but it's all he's got. ]