Jesse had been sitting forward, ready to see how this rodeo shakes out, but then ends up thumps back against the chair he's strapped into, pushed into it by gravity and the g-force of their ascent. Eyes wide and teeth gritted in a nervous grimace, the zed claps a hand onto his hat, keeping it in place as the rattling picks up.

But the second they whip between those two other ships, Jesse gives an excited whoop, yanking his hat off to wave it. He stomps a few times for good measure too.

"Good NIGHT, Irene! Rustlers ain't got nothin' on yer ride! Ain't got NOTHIN'!"