The space ships here were incredible compared to the beaten and dilapidated hunk of metal Bellamy was used to. The Ark was centuries old and had been built out of space stations that were older still. Bellamy couldn't help but be impressed every time he caught sight of the ships that flew around effortlessly in this galaxy. He knew it was where Glasya was, would have known even without the context of his coordinates, because it seemed like his presence hummed through the area. It was the one area of the Force that Bellamy could tap into, if only on a rudimentary level. He could sense others if he tried. He could think about Clarke and feel her still on Naboo in the same way he could think about Octavia and feel the hole she left when she vanished.
He was admiring the ship still when Glasya appeared, his long white robes looking like nothing Bellamy had seen before showing up in this galaxy. The people here dressed in a way he could only describe as elaborate after coming from a world of utilitarian, time-worn clothing. He flashed a smile and approached, thinking that he should probably have some feeling of apprehension, but he didn't. The sounds of a droid shifted his expression into a smirk. One thing Bellamy enjoyed here that he wouldn't have expected were the droids. His own, the one given to him by the Naboo, was sitting back in his house but he appreciated the personalities that were so clear even in just strings of beeps and trills.
Bellamy moved up the gangplank. "I'm ready to get started," he said as an explanation for how prompt he'd been. And he wanted to make a good impression.