Either he isn't or she isn't. Naomi hasn't decided yet, her focus more on the boy than whose bed they're in. He might notice the three little horn-like ridges on her forehead in a moment, if he starts paying attention enough.

"The Federation Starship Voyager," she answers, as though it's the most natural thing in the world. For her, it is. "Did Captain Janeway let you come on board?"