She went to the park.
I went with or they, those ships who were docked and still equipped with ancillaries, arranged to share the duty of monitoring our guest as it fit into their routines; that was the agreement, despite it being less convenient for me to participate at all, on the grounds that certain visitors might prefer a constant individual companion to what might seem, depending on their past experiences, to be undue attention from every soldier they passed. As usual, then, I took the first shift.
She brought the one possession of hers that Station Security hadn't confiscated, a frisbee.
At least I think it was knowingly left with her. What a Presger frisbee might do or even look like I couldn't say. She hadn't seemed the sort to have alien technology, but, then again, neither had I.
She threw the frisbee to another unremarkable stranger, quite a ways down the concourse, who caught it with a degree of coordination that most would have overlooked. It did not escape my notice, however. "Cousin," I said, enough to convey - unless our visitor were quite ignorant, but, of course, at this point I was certain that she couldn't be - both that I knew what she was not and that I was giving her the benefit of the doubt as to what, or who, she was.