Joly smiles and shoves at Legle fondly for the amorous disposition remark. "--Yes, I suppose. I'd say that it makes the most sense to assume something like the Federations's transporters, with our bodies being, oh, sort of remade on the way here, and that works for some of us, but I...remember opening the door..." He frowns, but only in attempted recollection; shaken as he had been, he barely remembers arriving in Milliways at all. The 1830 of the daemons, dreamlike as it's becoming, is still more immediate than his own June 7th.