Oh - huh. Mark blinks in surprise and relaxes a little further. He wonders who this is - she definitely doesn't seem like a Galactic, and he doesn't think she's one of the transplanted group...Interesting. His instinct is, of course, to go off on his own - his instinct is nearly always to go off on his own - but he's curious enough about her that he nods in agreement.

"I'd appreciate it," he answers. He presses his hands into his pockets and lifts his chin in greeting - because hell if he knows how you're supposed to treat women at this time and place. Bowing? Shaking hands? Genuflecting? He settles on a polite lift of his chin. "I'm Mark - " What was that stupid name Miles had come up with, right - "Ilyan."