For the most part, Lydia isn't sure she's ready to just throw herself back into work. However, she knows she can't just sit around sulking about the things that happened to her recently. Work seems the good excuse to get up and going. Then someone has to blow-up one of the shuttles and she's shooed off to the scene. Most of the clinic seems to be run by natives so she's sent as the pleasant face to make sure no newcomers are injured and if they are that they have a friendly (she'll at least smile) person to greet them.

Her hand flips her hair back off her shoulder as she moves to the one shuttle that didn't suffer any damage at all. Lucky them. She's looking for the dazed looks, the ones that might have suffered from PTSD and not even know it.

She's trying to do her job, get information, ask questions, but then she swears that she spots Urban Outfitters and brown hair and she almost wonders if it's Allison. Then the girl turns around and she sighs. Definitely not Allison. Either way, she's going to stride on over to her.

"I like your jacket." It's the opener she uses for all of her potential best friends.