"How about... remember that one where that guy with the weird hair was smuggling those flowers? That place was nice. Friendly. I liked that, um... you know, the drink. With the thing." God help her - not that there is any god she's ever heard of who'd still listen to her - she's starting to sound like Peter. She needs sleep. Good food. Her enhancements. She needs to not be cold. She needs to be warm.