Work, work work... Oh.

Posted on Thu Apr 1st, 2010 @ 10:45am by

512 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: Preparing The Fleet
Location: Engineering, various
Timeline: 1st Night aboard

T'var swore loudly as her head collided with the low hanging metal tubing of the emergency vent shaft. It was the third time she had hit her head in the last hour alone and she was becoming rather irritated.

"You know, that's the first time I think I've ever heard a Vulcan swear before."

T'var jumped causing her head to once again ram into the ceiling. Another long stream of profanity followed quickly after as she looked around for the source of the voice. A young human in his mid twenties was sitting in the entrance of the small tunnel, a foolish grin on his face mad worse by the fact that judging by the pips on his deep gold uniform, he was probably her superior.

"Sorry sir. Can I help you?" She asked, doing her best to maintain her calm.

"No no, carry on." The man remained in the tunnel entrance still smiling and T'var suddenly felt extremely self conscious. It was always a bit strange when one of her emotions bubbled to the surface. Not being full Vulcan had it's advantages, but it sure was strange having such vived emotions and no way to effectively keep the under wraps. "I... is something wrong sir?"

"No... not as such. You might want to do something about your uniform though before you go out in public. Not that I mind, just thinking about your wellbeing."

What is he on about? T'var thought, her expression somewhat bemused. Then she felt it. A cold draft along her back that she hadn't felt before, probably becuase she had been sliding around these tunnels on her back for the better part of the day. Oh dear... She reached beneath her and felt along her uniform, but her hands came in contact only with her skin. Her face now bright red she quickly positioned herself with her exposed backside away from the grinning man.

"Tell ya what..." he said, he voice jovial, "I'll go get you a spare uniform if you'll have dinner with me tonight."

T'var shook her head, unable to fully grasp what the man had just said. This was the strangest thing to possibly ever happen to her. It was surreal, almost like a... dream.


T'var sat up in bed, the sheet falling from her shoulders. She checked the clock next to her bed and groaned... It was 2:40AM. Her head hurt, and worst of all her body had responded to the dream and she knew now that there was no way in hell to she was getting back to sleep, not with this proverbial itch. Sometimes it really sucked being only part Vulcan.

She got out of bed and pulled on her uniform. At least she knew what to do with her time however. She had been reading up on the station, and if she remembered correctly there was a replimat only a few floors up and if her dream had been any indication, she was probably going to need some new clothes. A single engineering uniform simply left far too many... possibilities.

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