He lets himself take his time, describing the Rocinante.
Derrica makes for a good audience; and as long as she still seems interested, he walks her though the basics of a ship designed for traveling in the void, as best he can in lay terms. He describes her ops deck, the weapons systems, the med bay, the galley and its coffeemaker, the cabins optimized for safety in high-g maneuvers, the need for mag boots to keep them from just floating away in microgravity. It's hard to say how good a job he really does of making the description comprehensible — and overlap of naval terms works in his favor — but he tries; and there's no question of how much he loves it, even nearly a year removed from having set foot aboard the vessel.
Some of it is simply difficult to envision, though Holden is very thorough in his description. And it's kind of him, to take such care with how he relays the information, careful about inherently fantastic concepts.
She listens until he winds into silence, happy to listen apart from a question or two.
"It's not the same, is it? With the ships here?"
A little rueful. Derrica knows it could never be. Maybe not even necessarily because of the mode of travel so much as they aren't his own. Could any of them rival the Rocinante? Holden described that ship so lovingly, it's hard to believe there was a possibility of some other vessel measuring up.
Of course nothing could ever be the Roci — even back home, he never had an exit strategy, never had a plan for another job or another ship in case any of their myriad of problems caught up with them. The Roci was it for him, was home. Though he adds, with a glance to Derrica,
"I've started thinking I should spend some time learning more about the ships here too. It's good information to have."
A good skillset too, truthfully. Flint had a point that the war wouldn't always be overland.
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Derrica makes for a good audience; and as long as she still seems interested, he walks her though the basics of a ship designed for traveling in the void, as best he can in lay terms. He describes her ops deck, the weapons systems, the med bay, the galley and its coffeemaker, the cabins optimized for safety in high-g maneuvers, the need for mag boots to keep them from just floating away in microgravity. It's hard to say how good a job he really does of making the description comprehensible — and overlap of naval terms works in his favor — but he tries; and there's no question of how much he loves it, even nearly a year removed from having set foot aboard the vessel.
no subject
She listens until he winds into silence, happy to listen apart from a question or two.
"It's not the same, is it? With the ships here?"
A little rueful. Derrica knows it could never be. Maybe not even necessarily because of the mode of travel so much as they aren't his own. Could any of them rival the Rocinante? Holden described that ship so lovingly, it's hard to believe there was a possibility of some other vessel measuring up.
no subject
Of course nothing could ever be the Roci — even back home, he never had an exit strategy, never had a plan for another job or another ship in case any of their myriad of problems caught up with them. The Roci was it for him, was home. Though he adds, with a glance to Derrica,
"I've started thinking I should spend some time learning more about the ships here too. It's good information to have."
A good skillset too, truthfully. Flint had a point that the war wouldn't always be overland.