Lieutenant Doz Finch - The Hideout
D. Finch
((Borg Sphere, Space))
In the now more comfortable Borg Sphere—not a string of words that belong together—talk had turned to Nassau, a brief respite after what had been a challenging time trying to secure and steal the ship. Camera feeds, stellar cartographic data, and other streams of information poured onto the holographic screens in front of her, imbuing her brown eyes with a fern tinge.
Finch: Now tell me about what you encountered down on Nassau? Did you manage to have a little wander too, Gnaxac, or was it just Nera and myself here who spent a bit of time on the old floating rock?
Gnaxac: Oh well, I went f-f-for a wander around the market.
Nera: What was that like?
Gnaxac shrugged, and Doz chewed her bottom lip waiting to hear what he really got up to, because she knew there was more to it than just a shrug of his shoulders.
Gnaxac: There was s-s-some delicious street food.
Nera: Thought you’d be out partying with the locals, singing and dancing. Bet you can bust a move with the best of them, Mr Gnaxac.
Gnaxac gave Nera a bit of a look of bewilderment.
Gnaxac: You m-m-must be thinking of another Ferengi.
Finch: ::Amused.:: Delicious street food, eh?
Nera: You’ll have to show us the good spots you found if we have a chance to go back
Gnaxac shook his head.
Gnaxac: With any l-l-luck, the next t-t-time we go to Nassau, everything will have ch-ch-changed.
Everything will have changed.
Everything will have changed.
Doz felt that particularly deeply—because everything will have changed. Because of the people they had lost there in that transfigured place. Because of the people they had met there in that transfigured place. It made her think about Hal, that did. The wonderful and kind man she had spent time with there, gotten to know, felt some semblance of warmth and safety with. It was a jarring feeling and it caught inside her ribs like barbed wire.
If they had to stay, if the mission wasn’t a success, then there was Hal. But if they did succeed, and of course, of course she had every intention of making sure that they did, whatever it took, then she wouldn’t see him again. The life that man had etched would cease to exist. All of his trinkets, zapped, all of his experiences, wiped. The very fabric of a whole person…gone. Just like that.
She smiled at the other two, but it was faint…and felt a tad drawn.
Nera: Response
Gnaxac: ::smirking:: Although the c-c-crunchy fried b-b-balls were pretty good.
Finch: We’ll make a pit stop there, if everything goes pear-shaped and it’s just us three left on this Sphere. Collect a bag of crunchy fried balls and then sod off somewhere. Though in saying that we’d probably give the current Nassau lot a bit of a scare.
Another chuckle left her mouth, smaller than the other ones but jovial still; aye, she’d had a good wander to various corners of Nassau after their first hard battle with the Borg. Hal had taken her to all of the good spots, and a shindig or two. She’d helped him sort out Madame L’Spirria’s too, giving it a bit of a dusting, and more of a homely feeling. It was surreal to her how such a small amount of time spent with a wonderful person had felt like so long, and yet…not long enough.
Nera: Response
Finch: Right! We’re a few minutes away from the sector in question. There’s a system where we’ll be parking up, so we’ll want to make sure it’s all good and proper and that we don’t choose somewhere very exposed.
Nera / Gnaxac: Response
Finch: Anywhere we can strategically position ourselves so we aren’t attracting attention like some sort of celestial body, or phenomena, could work.
She brought up an image of the system, its green imagery depicting the various planets and other astronomical sites present there, and she chewed her bottom lip like a piece of steak mulling over their options. No doubt Gnaxac would have an idea or two up his sleeve, and Nera would hopefully know what phenomena to avoid, and anything else relating to the health and welfare of the crew.
Nera / Gnaxac: Response
Finch: I wonder if this Sphere has any sensor deflecting technology installed, or if we can rig it to do such a thing. Perhaps not with it being the Borg—they’re all about bloody signals and staying connected. I suppose you can’t call them antisocial.
Nera / Gnaxac: Response