[Soldat has learned by now that people react badly to a lot of their history. So they're a little hesitant, but after a beat, sounding kind of apologetic more than anything else, they still tell the truth:]

Before I died. Before I came here. The people who owned me would freeze me between missions. The artificial pressure and temperature control down there. It feels a lot like the start of cryofreeze.

[They don't shrug, so as not to disrupt her work, but they do tilt their head in the suggestion of it.]

It's fine if I don't have to sleep. Twenty-four or forty-eight hour trips I could manage.

[It's not fine but, well, it's bearable.]