"Yes Ma'am." Scraping what little that's left of his dignity together doesn't take long- and now that he's got a job (schedule sessions, calm Delta the fuck down, deal with everyone being dead) he'll get that knocked out as fast as possible.

Preferably before anyone else wants to talk to or at him about.

Anything.

He's up, snapping a salute partly out of habit and entirely out of respect, and out the door asap. He can work around Wash fine, yeah. Doesn't mean he wants to talk to him anytime soon.