The alarm rang with a blaring whistle, and I sighed deeply, before slamming it roughly with my hand, switching it off. Five O'bloody clock. Too early to wake up, too late to go back to sleep. I had to be early today, though. Today was the first day of my 5th year in Starfleet, the last year of my medical training. At the end of this year, I would be a doctor.
Dr. Alex Birchwood.
I liked the sound of that.
Yawning, I dragged myself out of bed and towards my small bathroom, looked in the mirror and groaned. I looked like shit. My dark curly hair, usually styled in a long plait down my right shoulder, was sticking up in all directions, making my already pale face look even paler, and my light blue eyes were surrounded by the black smudge of yesterday's unwashed mascara. I ran my fingers through my unruly hair, trying in vain to slightly decrease the volume of it, before giving up, and switching on my shower.
"Waatimes it?" I heard a slurred mumble from outside the bathroom door.
"What?" I yelled back, peeling off my pyjamas and stepping into the stream of hot water.
"What time is't Alex?" Came the voice again, slightly more comprehensible this time.
"Ten past five. Get your green ass out of bed, T'yonga. It's learnin' time."
"GAAAHHHHHH" came the annoyed scream from T'yonga, my Orion roommate.
As roommates go, she was a pretty good one. She was two years older than me, at twenty five, and despite constantly leaving our shared accommodation in a state that made it look like the Somme, was one of the best friends I could ask for. Yes, living with her meant that my bathroom was constantly covered in dark green foundation and pink lipstick, but what she lacked in cleanliness, she made up for in enthusiasm and counsel. I could always rely on her to make me feel better in a scrape.
I bent down and grabbed the shampoo, squeezing a generous amount onto my hand, and massaging it into my scalp, relaxing as the scent of apple bubbles filled my nostrils. Rinsing it off, I watched the green bubbles make their way down the plughole, which was blocked with strands of T'yonga's bright red hair. I applied conditioner, rinsed, then switched the shower off, stepping out into the steamy bathroom, and beginning to brush the knots out of my long hair.
I wrapped a towel around myself, then stepped out of the bathroom to be faced with a flash of green skin.
"FOR GOD'S SAKE T'YONGA!" I yelled, spinning around and closing my eyes, "CLOTHES. THEY ARE A WONDERFUL THING."
She laughed, a low husky sound, I heard her walk off, her feet padding on the wooden floor, "You're just jealous of my ample bosom,"
"My bosom is perfectly ample, thank you very much," I replied, hiding a giggle with a cough.
I turned around to a (thankfully) empty room, and dropped my towel, rooting in my dresser for underwear. I settled on a plain black set, before taking my blue regulation Starfleet shirt out of my wardrobe. I slipped it on and said a quick thank-you to whatever deity was out there that it still fit, as I'd put on a few pounds over the summer. I wiggled into a pair of skinny black jeans and put on my black boots, before chucking a black leather jacket into my satchel, and following T'yonga into our little kitchen. As much as I complained about it, the student accommodation in Starfleet was pretty decent.
I had been nervous when I had moved from London to America five years ago to pursue my dream of becoming a doctor on a Starship, but despite my apprehensions, I had been greeted with nothing but welcoming smiles and rooms with en suite bathrooms.
T'yonga was sat on the kitchen counter, thankfully in underwear, a black and pink lacy number that I was sure did not pass Starfleet dress code regulations.
"Chuck us the milk, would you?" I asked, as I opened a cupboard and took out a plastic container of cereal.
I poured myself a bowl, and ducked just in time to stop a two litre bottle of milk slamming into my skull. It whizzed past me and slammed into the wall behind me, falling to the floor.
"IT'S AN EXPRESSION!" I yelled, my heart banging in my ears. "I DID NOT LITERALLY MEAN 'CHUCK'!"
She laughed, and I walked over to the milk on the floor, picking it up and unscrewing the cap before pouring a generous amount on my cereal and digging in with a spoon.
"Orions don't-" T'yonga started
"-Have metaphors, yeah, I get it, ok. Try not to decapitate me with dairy products next time."
She grinned, before jumping off the counter and sashaying into the shared bedroom.
"So what's going on with your elective this year?" I heard her ask, her voice muffled by the wooden door between us.
My elective, of course. I'd almost forgot. In the final year, all Maths or Science students could pick an 'elective'. A subject to study alongside their main one for the year.
"Well, I put my name down for Biochemistry, but it's always the most popular, so I can't be sure of getting it."
"Whos's it with?"
"Professor McCormack." I responded, waiting for the shitstorm that was to follow.
"McCORMACK!" T'yonga yelled, peeking her head out from behind the door, her red curls bouncing up and down in excitement, "OH HE IS GORGEOUS!"
"And a member of the faculty…" I reminded her.
"I can't believe you got McCormack you lucky bastard," she continued, ignoring my voice of reason, "I'd let him study my biochemistry any day of the week."
I couldn't help but laugh, as she bounced out of the bedroom in her own red dress, her long legs looking even longer in the 3 inch heels that she had slipped on.
I raised an eyebrow at them and she snickered.
"Rules are made to be broken, Alex…"
"I don't even know if I've got McCormack this year," I continued, taking out my PADD and logging on with my Starfleet username, "It was the most requested elective last year, and they go by first come first serve."
"Well of course it was the most requested! It's taught by an Irish god who's face was carved by angels. I swear, that man could talk to me about shipping forecasts and I'd be enthralled."
I rolled my eyes and placed my PADD on the kitchen table, quickly scraping my thick hair into a long plait down my shoulder, and freeing a few dark curls to frame my face, before looking back to my PADD, which had finished loading.
"Sooo…?" encouraged T'yonga, "Are you going to have a dip into McCormack's pot of gold or not?"
I shook my head and smiled at her, "You are incorrigible," before tapping the screen to bring up my timetable.
Shit.
"I've not got Biochem." I said, disappointment running through me.
"Awww babe…" replied T'yonga.
"Shit. I was looking forward to that…"
"Well what have you got?"
"Maths." I said dismally.
"Math," she emphasised the lack of an 's'. "You're in America, darling. Jam is jelly, scones are biscuits, chips are fries and maths is math."
I smiled at her, "You're from an entirely different planet 'yonga, don't give me that redneck pride."
"Who've you got math with then?" she asked, "It better not be Professor Dilligen, because I swear that guy tried to cop a feel of my ass two years ago. "
"No, it's not with Dilligen," I said.
"Then who's it with, stop leaving me hanging…"
"A Vulcan." I sighed, "Fantastic." The sarcasm in my voice could have cut through the air. A year with a Vulcan meant a year with no fun.
"What's his name?"
"Commander Spock."