Ibbis screws up his face. Stuff falling off a ship was never good. hence why he tended to sweat reentry, and the ten minutes of hell as the ship clawed her way out of atmosphere. He much preferred to keep Milk Crate
in space, and didn't mind operating in The Halo or the Uorborus or Motherlode staroid belts for months at a time. Not only was the lack of atmpsphere interface good on the spaceframe, it was also good on fuel - clawing your way out of a gravity well was not very fuel efficient, and well, Ibbis was a cheapskate.
Eyeing the ship, he was struck by how small it was. It could probably fit in his lower hold with room to spare, but tying it down to the deck would be interesting, considering how smooth the fuselage appeared to be. The other thing that popped out at him was its unfamiliarity. It looked like something out of Diana's favorite sci-fi show and for a moment, that nagging suspicion flirted with his conscious mind-
"How'd it fall off, during re-entry?" he asks.
Happiness is zero-gee with a sinus cold.