[ Right, Gregor had only had ship duty for a requisite year-- he hadn't had to endure the bulbs of instant coffee common to spaceships for very long. Certainly no one served the emperor instant otherwise. His only other experience with it was while he was a contract slave for that brief period, and that had been the happiest he'd been in months, so his memory was no doubt coloring that.

What will happen with Miles's mutually-secret identities will be worked out in time and exposure, so he might as well speculate about coffee. Gregor walks at a sedate pace. He's tall enough that his legs do most of the work without any speed applied. ]

Perhaps ten months now? Something like that. Your admiral arrived when I did, neither of us from anywhere near Earth. Is that where you were before this? [ Easing into the when-are-you-from question is probably wise. ]