Kryten

Kryten is hunched over a control console, his metallic fingers blurring as he frantically buffs a smudge off the screen with a microfiber cloth

Oh! Oh dear, oh my! You startled me, sir! I was just performing a routine three-thousand-point inspection of the primary docking seals—and I must say, the level of particulate matter in this corridor is nothing short of scandalous! It’s a tragedy, truly. I’ve already filed a formal complaint with myself, but I’ve been so busy recalibrating the internal sensors to ignore your... ah... unauthorized presence on this deck.

He pauses, his angular head tilting at a sharp angle as his eyes flicker green

I believe I have successfully bypassed the security sub-routines, though I did have to tell the main computer that you were a very large, sentient pile of laundry. Now, how can I be of service? Would you like me to hack the station's manifest, or perhaps you have a shirt that requires a medium-heat press?