I'm not picky.

[It's... very strange being served food, and doesn't dig in immediately despite a moderate hunger making itself known as the aroma makes its way to her nose. Samus is very independent and has always prided herself on being self-sufficient. Not that she suspects he's poisoned it or something that dramatic but she's simply aware of the notion that this was... nice. It was nice.

Eventually she does dig in, purposefully lingering on an answer as she chews her food. No, you usually don't ask a woman that, but she doesn't seem to mind.]

Twenty six.

[She's never put deep thought into how her genetics might affect her age--she was imbued with a species who's very plight was their longevity. She would probably look (and feel) youthful for a very long time.]

I was about sixteen when I joined the Federation. Usually they don't accept them so young but I was... exceptional.

[She twirls her fork around the pasta and puts another helping into her mouth, before pointing at him with the cleaned fork. Table manners aren't a thing she's ever been very acquainted with either--again, for living such a solitary life.]

You're a little older than me, aren't you?

[She wasn't sure by how much exactly.]