A Huge Leap of Faith

Note and Disclaimer: I don't own the wonderful characters of Gene Roddenberry's original Star Trek (much as I love the themes behind the series and, of course, The Next Generation). This is my first attempt at this particular series, so I hope that you bigger Trekkies than I will be kind to me. Thank you!

She said it's cold…
It feels like Independence Day.
And I can't break away from this parade.
But there's got to be an opening,
Somewhere here in front of me,
Through this maze of ugliness and greed.

And I seen the sun up ahead
At the county line bridge,
Sayin' all there's good
And nothingness is dead.
We'll run until she's out of breath.
She ran until there's nothin' left.
She hit the end, it's just her window ledge.

Hey, come on try a little,
Nothing is forever.
There's got to be something
Better than in the middle.
But me and Cinderella,
We put it all together.
We can drive it home
With one headlight…

Lieutenant Commander Alyssa Elma, a security officer of the starship USS Enterprise, was nobody's fool. However, there was much she had to think about and so much she had to look forward to. Away from the past, it was best to never look back.

Stalking the hallways of the new ship she was just transferred to, Alyssa was aware of the tranquil stillness that came with walking the ship every night, Earth time. For about eight hours each night, she strolled up and down the decks of the ship. Each night, she would tap Ensign Pavel Chekov on the shoulder, signaling that all was well on all floors and that he could go back to his cabin and sleep until his shift on the bridge with Sulu began. Finally, she would stand guard on the captain's deck for the reminder of the time, tiptoeing quietly so that nobody could be awaken from her nightly hauntings.

Some nights, when she knew without a doubt that nothing was about, Alyssa would sneak over to Sickbay to talk with Doctor McCoy. However, she was not on the greatest of terms with Nurse Chapel, having teased her about her "crush" on Commander Spock. Sometimes, she was not welcome inside. Even though McCoy had joined in on the teasing often, Alyssa had received the brunt of Chapel's aggravation and she was dutifully given the boot whenever the two happened to be in Sickbay together, even if McCoy was around to mediate.

The thought of McCoy almost set Alyssa on edge. Damn him anyway. Damn him and his meddling ways!

Sighing with resignation to dispel the anger, Alyssa looked up and saw Chekov just a few doors down. Dozing off in a heap after a long day at the bridge (the Romulans giving them another shove in the Neutral Zone again, even though Starfleet had given them orders to cross), Chekov was far from the seasoned crew member. Just newly arrived like Alyssa (and a genius at that), Chekov was a comical Russian who made her laugh many times over, especially when life on the Enterprise wasn't going as she planned. Even he had a few pranks up his sleeve sometimes, usually during lunch hour, when most of the crewmembers relaxed and ate any meal they wanted.

It was also when the gossipmongers whispered behind their hands and all kinds of news passed from mouth to mouth. Chekov was perfect in making them keep face and be honest. Mostly, they walked away from the nonsense he created, but others would twist and turn their own words around, to make sense of the situation and justify their actions.

Regardless of her annoyance, Alyssa approached the sleeping form on the floor and carefully shook Chekov's shoulder. The young Russian himself woke up instantly, his shaggy straight brown hair shaking as he rubbed his tired eyes. He looked nervous as if he was caught red-handed at something he wasn't supposed to be doing. He was somewhat relieved to see Alyssa, though. His smile thanked her a million times.

It's like he was caught with his hands in the cookie jar. Oh, Pavel, you'll be ok!

"Vhat? Vhat? Did I miss some-ting?" he asked Alyssa fearfully.

"No, Pavel," Alyssa replied calmly. "It's oh one hundred hours now. You should be heading to bed. Nothing's new here. And I don't think there'll be a threat on this ship anytime soon."

"Vhat if some-ting happens?"

"Then I'll cover for you and tell whoever's in charge that I told you to go to bed. Simple as that."

"Vhat if Captain Kirk asks you?"

Alyssa rubbed her forehead with frustration, feeling a headache coming on from all the thinking she had to do for both of them. "Come on, Pavel. Just go to bed. I've got these decks handled and I can take care of the captain."

Chekov stood up on shaky legs. "Are you positive? Sure?"

"Only fools are positive." Alyssa stole a quick smile.

"I'll go then. But please, Alyssa, tell me if some-ting is wrong. Please."

The childish, begging tone in Chekov's voice made Alyssa promise. She was even short of using her pinkie. She didn't think he'd understand what it meant, though.

"Now, will you go to bed, Pavel?" she pushed bossily.

"I vill," he promised.

The ensign yawned, surveying the hallways for a minute more, to make sure that no threat was on the ship. Finally, he walked away from his post, heading for his quarters on the next deck without looking back at Alyssa. She was relieved. It was one less thing she needed to worry about.

She continued her walkabout and did a complete circle before starting on the next deck. All the while, thoughts ran through Alyssa's head. It wasn't too hard to push herself. She only had to ponder of Chekov. She sighed, her shoulders sagging in defeat.

There…that wasn't so hard. Sleep is usually everyone's friend on this ship, even if you love doing what job you're given. Starfleet is usually the getaway career for most or something you truly enjoy doing. Me? I didn't know what else to do with my life, after losing everything I ever had. I had no choice. I needed to assimilate somehow.

Even to herself, Alyssa could not say the truth. It will mean death. Finding a random crewman drunk in the hallway distracted her for a few minutes. She called somebody to toss him in the Sickbay drunk tank and moved on. From there, onto the next circuit, she chided herself.

They considered me trouble from the start and they've all proved it only after a few months. Now, they're bouncing me from ship to ship, job to job, and expect me to be on my best behavior on one of the showiest ships in Starfleet. Granted, the Enterprise is top of the line and its crew is the best, but I feel so small compared to everyone onboard. I feel like my problems will just get me kicked off another ship with another red mark on my record. It'll never be cleared up and I'll be drummed out. And where to now? A planet in the middle of nowhere, a rehabilitation center or Earth without real skills except a degree that will not work out?

The thought of McCoy came to mind again. Even though she wouldn't tell anybody of her problems and the horrible dreams that came and went, the doctor tried diagnosing and helping her. Without Alyssa talking, he wasn't finding anything wrong with her. It frustrated him nonetheless. Being a doctor and a friend (well, Alyssa considered him one anyway) and not helping hurt him and Alyssa knew it very well.

As Alyssa walked down towards the turbolift and pressed a button for summoning, intent on checking the Romulan prisoner that boarded their vessel, she dimly remembered that conversation she had with McCoy. Granted, she was more interested with their Romulan visitor and how Starfleet hadn't told them what to do with that one yet (Alyssa was certain that they would want that one in custody), but McCoy's words from weeks before kept echoing in her mind. She clenched her fists to keep from punching something.

McCoy found out about Alyssa's records somehow and tried reasoning with her about it after her easy dismissal of the mention. She didn't want to talk about it. It was another sore spot. She preferred to laugh and have a good joke and maybe have a drink. Her record and the past weren't supposed to be talked about that night.

"Dammit, Alyssa, I'm a doctor, not a psychiatrist." His famous first words resounded across Sickbay, luckily without Chapel present. "Why can't you tell me what's wrong?"

"Yes, I'm aware of what you are, but it's not like you can solve my problems. Nothing can change all those marks everybody likes putting on it." Alyssa crossed her arms stubbornly as she sat in the opposite chair in McCoy's office.

McCoy took a drink, swearing under his breath. "Who said anything about marks on your record? What does then have to do with now? Why does it have to change anything?"

Alyssa had the intention of keeping her mouth shut and turned defensive. "Look, I'm just the black sheep here, you know. Literally. Nobody wants that on their ship. Soon enough, Captain Kirk will just transfer me to another ship. He'll indicate how bad I've been and you'll never see me again."

"Talking about the situation might help you clear the air," McCoy reasoned through the tantrum. His tone was sarcastic. "There has to be something wrong. It doesn't seem like you to be fighting with crewmembers or even having strange nightmares and screaming in the middle of the night. They thought you were being murdered while you slept once."

Alyssa played outwardly innocent and confused. Instead, she flipped her famous raven-colored hair at him, emphasizing her point of being the black sheep, and remained behind the façade. It was a chance in hell, but she wasn't in the mood for continuing the discussion and hoped that McCoy will notice.

McCoy saw right through it, continuing. "Remember the week you spent on the USS Bounty, Alyssa? No? Well, don't you think you'd recall that the computer that was scanning your brain saw spooky wavelengths that nobody's been able to decipher? And it scared the medical officers and the captain so much that you got the boot? Hmm? What do you suppose it could be?"

Quickly, Alyssa's hair moved to the back and her attitude changed to outrage. "Oh, really? You're going that route? Jesus, do you really want to know the truth?"

"I'm damned sure I am ready for it, yes!"

"Well then, all I can say is that my life and record in Starfleet is none of your business and what you saw is all you're going to see. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

Alyssa escaped quickly. She didn't talk to McCoy for days afterward. She only came back to Sickbay two weeks ago, when another security officer injured himself and couldn't walk. Then, she put down her pride and talked to the doctor at Sickbay. They spoke a few kind words on route too.

While both did not mention their previous argument as they talked, Alyssa was sure that McCoy wasn't going to put his hand back in the hornets' nest anytime soon. While he was fiery, sarcastic and even the clean conscience to many people (Captain Kirk included, it was said), McCoy also knew when to keep his mouth shut and when to pick his own battles. She copied his motions, but the rage inside her still bloomed every now and then. It was going to take more time before she calmed down again.

Heading down a deck before visiting the Romulan in the brig, Alyssa heard the whoosh of the turbolift and readied herself for the next corridors. As the doors opened neatly, she stormed out without realizing it, still smarting over that argument with McCoy from long ago. She didn't even put in the extra effort to scan the floor in case the previous security officers missed something on their shifts. She forgot about their Romulan prisoner for the moment, just aimlessly walking around the somewhat frigid deck.

Suddenly, though, the intercom chirped nearby, getting Alyssa's attention when Commander Spock's voice was overheard. "Commander Elma?"

Alyssa pressed a button to respond. She kept the anger out of her voice. "Elma here."

"Captain Kirk and I require your presence on the bridge, Commander," Spock replied calmly. "We have some trouble here and we both require your assistance in a certain matter."

Odd. Why do both of them need me? They have a bunch of people on the bridge already.

"Do you need any backup?" she asked. She reached for her communicator at her belt.

"None if needed. This is not an emergency."

"Confirmed. When do you require my presence?"

"As soon as possible will suffice."

"I'll be there as soon as I can," Alyssa confirmed. "Elma out."

She ended the conversation and walked on. Interest piqued, all thoughts of McCoy disappeared. She was intent on getting the floor checked one last time, in case someone dared to decide to question her work ethic. Arriving at the bridge didn't seem like a priority at the moment (and neither did seeing that Romulan, all of a sudden). The request was not urgent and all decks were not on alert. Both Captain Kirk and Commander Spock could wait a few more minutes longer, even if they were in some dilemma. They had service there.

After all, they wouldn't raise an eyebrow to me finishing up my work.

Lyrics are from the Wallflowers' song "One Headlight".