"No." This armor is a replica, the old one had to be left behind to seal the ruse that he was, well. Dead as dicks. "I've got nothing left that they want."

Delta's gone. The armor they fought so hard to keep is gone. All he has- all he had was the contraband he used to bribe his way onto the ship and the armor on his back. No civvies, not even an extra round of ammunition. Hell, the only gun he's got is his sidearm and it's worn to shit. He's not even sure if it fires but- it's a good prop.

Besides.

If he was gonna pull the trigger he'd only need to do it once.

Those thoughts are easy to shake off with the promise of coffee- he reaches out and curls his hands around the mug, inhaling steam like it's the goddamn mana of life. How long since he'd been somewhere with coffee? How long since he could afford to have any instead of keeping what he found to sell? "I just need somewhere to rest up."

Running constantly- it takes a toll. But he's got no right to anything more than a quiet question, too exhausted to even reach for hope. His smile is resigned more than anything- maybe he'll get to stay the night but the odds are he won't. He's trouble. Ohio, though while not entirely remarkable, was always pragmatic. He's smart enough to know to avoid top ten bullshit.