I haven't wrote a story in a very long time. I'm only going to say this once, obviously none of this shit belongs to me. Otherwise I would be sipping champagne, not writing this story.

This came to me other day when, I couldn't sleep.

Driving that train, high on cocaine,

Casey jones is ready, watch your speed.

Trouble ahead, trouble behind,

And you know that notion just crossed my mind

"Andorian fire whiskey please."

"Can I get a cup of that pigweed and homjihm soup?"

"Come here sweety"

"You wanna take a ride?"

"What time you get off sugartits?"

"Hey! Hurry the fuck up! I ordered ten minutes ago!"

"Kate stop slacking!"

"Come on Kate!"

Minimum wage jobs are the worst in existence no matter what planet you are on. Especially being a waitress at a diner in a busy little outpost on a godforsaken planet like this. Most especially for a human female of no significant qualities nor skill. My name is Kate Marsden, and this is not the fairytale you want to hear.

The year is 2263, The planet is Korma, home of one of the very few federation outposts in this quadrant, and the diner is La Treville, a shady little diner home to pirates, starfleet officers, and whatever else exists in this barren land.

I wake up every afternoon at a half past one in my tiny one room flat. I walk over to the kitchen/living room area, and fix myself a bowl of frosted flakes. I sit in front of the window and look down onto the street below. Outside people are shuffling back and forth doing their business. Some teenagers are playing cards in one corner. A young rather slutty looking red head is making out with some thug of a man. Sighing I turn away from the depressing sight and head towards the bathroom to get ready.

Looking into the mirror almost makes me smile, once upon a time I probably looked halfass alright. I have long blonde hair, full lips, and sparkling greenish grey eyes. I was once told I should have been a model. Unfortunately I chose to go runaway and explore the galaxy. Which is why my hair is now stringy and I have bag under my eyes and a bruise on my cheek. Getting ready for work is simply, get in shower, get out of shower as quick as possible before the water turns absolutely freezing cold. Blow dry hair, and put hair in a pony tail. Put a little bit of makeup on to cover the bruise, and it's time to go.

The worst part of my job was most likely the uniform. It's pink gaudy and completely a strip tease. It barely covers up my chicken legs. But it's mandatory. Despite how much customers like to hit on servers who have their ass half hanging out. He thinks it's good for business.

Unless you are particularly well off, walking is the way to go in Korma. The shuttle is simply too expensive and risky. The blasted contraption breaks down at least once a week. I walk every afternoon down the barren dusty clay road to the dingy little diner a few blocks down. It wasn't an impressive sight. Me walking down the road, in my grotesque little pink uniform, with a cigarette haphazardly hanging out the corner of my mouth. On the way to the little diner, that was almost the bane of my existence.

Walking into the "bane" I grimace. The place is once again packed with all kinds of endearing looking people. Sarcasm Heading to the back, I see my alien friend Camille. She was some half something or another, I wasn't really sure, it was none of my business, but her skin was purple and her eyes white. Thankfully she had a human shaped body, or we probably would not get along as well.

"Goooooood Morning Kate!" The bitch is too happy in the mornings.

I smile "What's all these people here for Cam?"

"Well dear if you would get out from Donnie's ass maybe you would know."

Donnie is my boyfriend. He's mostly human. I think. He's one of those bad boy types, with the bad ass hair, and the bad ass clothes, bad ass drugs, and of course the bad ass attitude. The only thing he lacks is the bad ass money. He's a charmer though, and a petty criminal. But being on the other side of the tracks, I don't have very many options. And despite being a little rough around the edges Donnie is decent.

"Shut up, slut and tell me."

Camille just grins, She was here when I arrived on the planet, and was the one that helped me get this stinkin job. But it pays. "The crew of some suped up StarFleet ship is on shore leave here for the next few weeks. I think it's called the Enterprise."

"Huh? I've never heard of it, why the fuck would they want to come here? Were in the middle of nowhere." It was puzzling. Why would an important starship want to come here? While this was an outpost it was way way way out in the Quadrant, and starships were usually more concerned with "important" planets.

"I dunno, probably to terrorize the town, you want to come to the back with me?" Camille grinned teasingly "I got what youuuu need to wake you up for this grand glorious day of working."

I needed alot of things. A hovercraft. A new pen. A new PADD. Clothes. Cocaine. A new job. A career. A way to get back to Earth. Money. Especially Money.

"Let's go." Today might be a good day after all. Following Camille to the back was easy, all we had to do was avoid the stare of J'pau the manager. He was kind of an asshole, and kind of had a thing for anything with a vagina Including me and Camille.

Sitting at the table in the back, I watched as Camille pulled a little bag of a white powdery substance out of her cleavage. Powder is a miraculous little narcotic. Watching her crush the little powdery substance into even tinier particles, and then split the little pile into two even lines is almost euphoric.

Putting that straw up to my nose and inhaling those little white particles. Now that really is euphoric. It's a feeling that cannot be explained. It's a high, beyond a high. My world had suddenly began looking up.

"Thanks Cammy, I really needed the boost today." I grinned stupidly at the purple girl.

She just giggled. " I figured, especially today. Do you have a cig?"

Tossing her a cig I sighed "Come find me during your break." I don't like to smoke numerous cigarettes after I just get up. I get too lightheaded.

She nodded "Thanks girl."

Walking back to the front of the restaurant, I tie my apron a little bit tighter, and look at the board. I have five tables today. Five fucking tables.

Three of my tables already had some slightly impatient looking customers.

A couple of mildly idiotic looking Andorians at one table.

A mix of humans and Betazoids at another. Regulars. All looking at me pointedly.

And a precarious group of Starfleet personnel at my last table. The red and blue uniforms gave the bastards away. The very impatient looking bastards.

The fucking government's here and I'm high as a kite.

Fuck My Life.

Well this chapter was rather short. I don't think this will be a common occurrence, I just wanted things to flow a certain way.

The song is Casey Jones by the Grateful Dead.