Sitwell could see that. Despite the whole beard thing not being his taste, he had to admit it was pretty magnificent, like in the same way a weird looking fish was technically beautiful. They were in a galaxy full of weird looking fish. "I really thought it would be easier to tell who was an alien and who was just a mutant," he admitted. If there wasn't some kind of portable gene-reader technology in the works, Sitwell was putting in the request himself. "What kind of...I mean, where can you go from here, without being illegal?" he had to wonder. Not that he suspected the legal systems on all planets were identical to his Earth ones, but there had to be common threads of basic decency, right? As another alien used its extra, tiny arms to heave its gut up out of Sitwell's way as it sidled by, Sitwell muttered, "Your team," out of the side of his mouth before dropping onto the newly vacated couch and taking his shot.