Ensign Doz Finch - Hustle & Bustle
Doz Finch
((Personal Quarters, USS Gorkon))
“Personal Log, Stardate 240006.07. I’ve underestimated everything, haven’t I. My god, I really have underestimated everything. You see, when I arrived at the Gorkon, I came with the understanding that it couldn’t really be any different than anything I’d seen before. Well, it goes without saying, doesn’t it. Once you’ve seen one plasma conduit or impulse manifold, you’ve seen them all, haven’t you. But no, what I didn’t expect to happen was that, not only would I finally get to have a sleep that lasts longer than the piteous thirty minutes I usually get, on a good day mind you, but it would be in this very weird sort of “shared nightmare”, where, well, for lack of a better description, I was one horrible old cow. But that’s the thing about Starfleet—you honestly never know what’s around the corner. And you would think that after forty something years of service, I’d have learned that by now.”
“In about twenty minutes' time, I’ll be meeting up with the executive officer, Lieutenant Commander Samira Neathler, to go for a good old power walk in a little place called Adarak, on the planet Bajor. We’ve just started our post-apocalyptic shore leave, if you will, and I’m told there’s a little market nearby. I’m going to try and convince the commander to take a little detour, while we’re out there. She’s a woman who likes her exercise, so it might take a bit of persuasion, but who in their right mind would turn down the chance to visit a hustling, bustling market—no one sensible, anyway! End log.”
((Adarak, Kendra Valley, Bajor))
The air was comfortably warm, delivering on its flowing caress the whispering and subtle scent of Bajoran dandelions, marked by the occasional passing sneeze. Along the running trail, situated on the outskirts of the small town of Adarak, Finch and Neathler had started their power walk. Other locals had had similar ideas, walking briskly along at their own speeds, while some simply ran, in a concert of panting and tinkling earrings.
Above the town towered its monastery, intricately built and quite complex to look at, but a marvel all the same. Its imposing height thankfully hadn’t spoiled the sunlight, though Finch imagined that on the hottest days, its long shadows would have been more than welcomed. Thankfully still sun-drenched, their sprightly walk continued, and so too did the conversation.
Finch: It’s all in the hands! ::she gestured, arms flinging up and down as her little legs worked hard to keep the pace:: Get a firm grip of the wrench, hold onto the coupling with your other hand, lock it in and give it a good hard push.
Neathler: Response
Finch: Exactly. ::she breathed, smiling widely at a passing local:: Now if you want to reinforce it while it’s up and running, that’s where it starts getting a bit more tricky. It’s very straightforward if you know what you’re doing, but you can wind up with a right nasty burn if you don’t!
Neathler: Response
Finch: All the time! But you get used to it, don’t you. Now here, isn’t this lovely, breathing in all this fresh air. Ever been here before? To Bajor?
Neathler: Response