Nova had spent the first few days on the ship, or at least, what passed for days on the ship, taking stock of her situation. She'd spent a great deal of time cataloging her equipment, ammunition, clothes (what she managed to scrounge up anyway), and other necessities. Once she was done with all that, she was sure she had enough to at least continue a tolerable existence on the ship. No, truthfully, she had a lot more than she had ever had for as far back as she could remember. A Ghost didn't accumulate a terrible many possessions after all. The ship was practically a luxury cruise compared to what her life had been like before.
After scrolling through the omnicom system however, she'd come across a person signing individuals up for some sort of space fighter squadron. Now, she didn't know what the hell an 'X-Wing' was, but if they had those, it would stand to reason that Stacy had procured fighters and vehicles from other worlds too.
So it was that she found herself in the hangar taking stock of the familiar vehicles. Cradling a daatapad in her arms, she counted off the Vultures she saw, making quick notes on her pad. She was just about done with the ground vehicles and was going to move on and see what airships they had when she caught sight of the woman standing near the ship.
Even if she hadn't had her telepathy, melancholy was pouring off the woman (the very very beautiful woman) in waves. She couldn't help but pause a moment. Setting her datapad down on a nearby table, she walked over, making sure the woman saw her a good distance away. It went against all her training, all her instincts, to so freely let herself be seen ran against a core principle of her identity as a Ghost. But she figured it would be best this way.
When she was neaby enough, she looked up at the ship, before her piercing green eyes lit on the woman again. "Holds a lot of memories does it?" She spoke softly, as if loathe to shatter the calm of the moment.
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Nova had spent the first few days on the ship, or at least, what passed for days on the ship, taking stock of her situation. She'd spent a great deal of time cataloging her equipment, ammunition, clothes (what she managed to scrounge up anyway), and other necessities. Once she was done with all that, she was sure she had enough to at least continue a tolerable existence on the ship. No, truthfully, she had a lot more than she had ever had for as far back as she could remember. A Ghost didn't accumulate a terrible many possessions after all. The ship was practically a luxury cruise compared to what her life had been like before.
After scrolling through the omnicom system however, she'd come across a person signing individuals up for some sort of space fighter squadron. Now, she didn't know what the hell an 'X-Wing' was, but if they had those, it would stand to reason that Stacy had procured fighters and vehicles from other worlds too.
So it was that she found herself in the hangar taking stock of the familiar vehicles. Cradling a daatapad in her arms, she counted off the Vultures she saw, making quick notes on her pad. She was just about done with the ground vehicles and was going to move on and see what airships they had when she caught sight of the woman standing near the ship.
Even if she hadn't had her telepathy, melancholy was pouring off the woman (the very very beautiful woman) in waves. She couldn't help but pause a moment. Setting her datapad down on a nearby table, she walked over, making sure the woman saw her a good distance away. It went against all her training, all her instincts, to so freely let herself be seen ran against a core principle of her identity as a Ghost. But she figured it would be best this way.
When she was neaby enough, she looked up at the ship, before her piercing green eyes lit on the woman again. "Holds a lot of memories does it?" She spoke softly, as if loathe to shatter the calm of the moment.