Connections (Pt. 2)

Posted on Sun Aug 22nd, 2021 @ 6:29am by Lieutenant Zero & 1st Lieutenant Dahlia Acker

1,510 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Out of Time
Location: Lounge: The Maple Leaf
Timeline: [Backpost]

OLD:

Zero looked at her, his lips moved slightly as if to smile, but stopped as if he didn't know how. He nodded his head as he replied. "Earth's history is proof enough that in order to obtain something grand, one must be prepared to fight for it and lose in the process. Starfleet, while their mandate is to explore, was formed on the bases of a military organization. It has ranks and requirements for combat. Starfleet Officers are prepared to jump into battle, and are properly trained, should the need occur. Marines are not a reminder, but a simple requirement when dealing with ground and much more aggressive species." He paused for a moment, looking at her a bit intently, before continuing. "My knowledge of Security grants me training for dealing with situations that entail onboard combat and conflict resolution between a Starfleet Officer and another officer or civilian species. Marines are trained for ground combat and use tactics and weapons far superior to Starfleet Security because they are required to. Their division is centered around such combat and tactics. Just because war time is where your division gets the most use it doesn't mean you serve no purpose. If it weren't for Marines, Starfleet Officers and Federation civilians can not enjoy the freedoms they enjoy today." Zero paused for a moment, as if hesitant to talk, but he seemed to feel a bit more comfortable to continue. "The Borg ran into Starfleet Marines on many occasions and those encounters proved to be far more difficult to adapt to than traditional encounters." He stopped again before concluding with. "You may take from that what you will, Dahlia. I will never see, your unit, as anything but another useful tool to use in this ships defense."

NEW:

Dahlia looked at him with surprise before she nodded, her breath catching a little bit. "I appreciate that. Hearing it...means a lot," she said and gave him a weak smile. "You have a unique perspective as well. I hope that you see it as a good thing and that others will also so it that way. I see it like that anyway. The universe is a strange place and adaptability is how we survive, regardless of species. It is how we evolve as people, emotionally and...spiritually?" she frowned at herself, clearly thinking. "Yeah, that covers it. Spiritually." She reached out but stopped herself, realizing that she had almost touched him. And she didn't know where he stood on physical contact. "Would you mind if I touched your hand?" the way she said it made it clear it was his choice and she would respect his boundaries.

Zero nodded his head and raised a brow slightly. The way she questioned on if spiritually was considered part of how people evolved made him seem to wonder on if there was something more behind that or just an uncertainty on whether she should include it or not. The Ex-Borg paused for a moment before saying. "The Borg don't believe in individuality, emotions, or spirituality. They only believe in perfection. Perfection, some would consider, to be unattainable. The galaxy is so vast and unexplored that there may be no end to their search." He looked down to his hand, the one uncovered by his glove, which held his Borg nanite tubules. The thing he often hid to avoid people from staring or becoming scared of him because he was still part Borg. As he placed his gloved hand on his other, he looked over to Dahlia and asked. "May I inquire as to why you want to touch my hand?"

"Because despite my best training I am still a tactile person and I had an impulse to touch your hand to express solidarity," Dahlia admitted openly as she studied his face. "And a reminder that we're not alone. A way to express that in this moment, we are two people, not that removed from each other." Once, she had been a hugger. Not since she was a teenager though, but patting someone's shoulder, giving their hand or arm a squeeze...she still did that with those she liked. And she liked Zero, seeing so much of a person who was trying to piece himself together. It reminded her of her father, when he had stopped drinking. How lost he had looked when trying to fill time he usually saw through a haze, to distance himself from bad memories. No. That wasn't quite it. There was almost a childlike quality about the way Zero was. For all his intelligence and knowledge, he was still learning a lot. About interacting with people, perhaps even about emotions.

Zero looked down at his hands, looking intently between the gloved and ungloved one. He wasn't sure which would he appropriate. While the gloves served as a barrier between his capability to interface with technology by simple touch, they served another purpose. His attempt to hide the reminder he was still a Borg. He was part machine. Zero was once part of a group that was considered a living nightmare. Monsters that were part living and part machine who came in like locusts and took everyone and everything that made their species special. It became part of a bigger entity and was lost in the Collective.

Eventually, he raised his ungloved hand to her, as he looked back at her. His mechanical eyes focused on her as he was curious as to what she going to do. Zero definitely found her interesting. Unlike most, she actually seemed to want to get to know him and not just ignore him. He didn't know if she had interactions with the Borg. Maybe she didn't know. Maybe she never experienced the Borg. It was possible she only knew of them through briefings, but then there was a concern. An odd, but strong concern. A part of Zero, a large part, wanted her never to find out. To never experience what they were capable of. Zero finally looked at her and managed a slight smile before it faded.

He looked so unsure. But Dahlia thought that perhaps it was an internal battle more directed to how the former Borg saw himself. She watched him, giving him a small smile back as she reached out for the uncovered hand that he had raised. The other one, gloved, seemed to be off limits. She could understand that, although she wasn't sure why. But she had known many Marines with scars they were self conscious about, that they hadn't gotten repaired by medical yet.

She placed her hand on his, giving it a gentle squeeze as she held his eyes. It was a human thing, the interaction, a physical connection to another person. "Thank you," she said, almost about to apologize for her hands being warm. She always ran a degree hotter than most humans with good circulations... meaning her hands were warm and she was terrible at making pastry. Instead she just sat there, her hand on his, keeping a gentle pressure as she held his eyes.

Zero looked at their hands together, tilting his head a bit, as if curious by the interaction. However, there was a nice feel to it. Maybe it was the warm of her hand vs the slight cold of his. Maybe it was gentle squeeze that was almost comforting. Perhaps it was the idea of the gesture all itself. The expression of solidarity. He never felt the need to express such a thing, then again, he always kept his distance from everyone else. Giving them space to avoid conflict and odd looks due to his Borg past. Fort his moment, this shared moment, he didn't want to keep his distance.

His eyes finally locked with hers, the mechanical blue surrounding his pupil shifting slightly, before finally settling. He allowed a small smile to form on his face. Zero didn't smile often, he didn't smile at all really, but this time it felt necessary. It felt good. It felt... genuine. Slowly, he placed his gloved hand over the one she held his other and gave it a squeeze in return before saying softly. "Thank you, Dahlia. For... walking over here and sitting down."

She smiled warmly at the words as well as the gesture of his gloved hand, the one he clearly wasn't comfortable with, resting on hers. She gave a slow shake of her head. "Sometimes, you have to take a chance. And maybe, if you'd like...we could do this again?" Maybe he needed a friend and ally as much as she did. Maybe it was that she could, despite his eyes, see something of how she felt inside in his face. A cold isolation whenever she was removed from those like her. "I would like that, you see," she added, so he knew she was doing this for herself as well. That it wasn't pity. It was a recognition.

To be continued...

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Lieutenant Zero
Chief Operations Officer

&

1st Lt. Dahlia Acker
Marine Executive Officer

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