Dila was hardly the most delicate of girls. Many people refused to believe that she was a student of psychology at Starfleet Academy. Why the hell would the Galactic Federation rely on tattooed, pierced girls to facilitate interplanetary treaties? They could see her as a mechanic or possibly a security guard, but never as a psychologist. It seemed impossible that her gruff voice could verbalize, "How does that make you feel?"
It wasn't until she met Pavel Chekov that anybody believed her right off the bat. He just said "Interesting," and went on to tell her that the Russians invented psychology. And for that, for being the first person to believe her, she always had a soft spot for him.
Watching Dila and Chekov walk down the halls was quite a spectacle for many cadets. To be honest, Dila could be something of a jerk -brash, tough, and ill-mannered- and Chekov, well, he was all light and purity and sweetness. Rumors that he had hired Dila to be his bodyguard ran wild. But anybody who knew the pair could tell you that they were the best of friends. They could usually be found in the library together, discussing anything from Russian literature to their favorite foods until dark, when they would retreat back to Chekov's dorm.
"I dunno. I always liked physics, but I was so damn bad at math that I never thoughta studying it seriously." said Dila, from her seat at the table she was sharing with Chekov. She was reading through his PADD, its display screen graffiti'd with physics equations and Greek symbols. The librarian was scowling at the mud encrusted boots she was resting on the table.
"Dila, I am certain zat you are perfectly cepable of being physicist. You are wery intelligent girl." Chekov replied, looking up from his graphs.
"Chekov. You been trying to teach me math for nearly two months. We're not past the second chapter. I'm no more capable of doin' trig than you are of pronouncing 'vivisection.'"
"Wiwisection. Wee-wee-section. Fffffi-ffffi-section." Dila laughed loudly. Partially to irritate that stuck up librarian.
"Not even close, man." The clack of the librarian's footsteps came closer and Dila helped Chekov pack up his stuff. The man opened his mouth and was cut off before he even began.
"Yeah, if we're not researching or studying we need to leave. I know, I know, I know. You can go back to your hidey-hole now, dicknail." she spat. The librarian turned around and retreated to his desk. Generally, Chekov would tell her to apologize and she would oblige, if only to appease him. But Chekov didn't like this librarian; he was always peering around bookshelves, like he was expecting to catch Dila stealing books or engaged in a quickie. They walked out of the library into the warm evening.
"So, wanna hang out tonight? I managed to score some wodka, just for you." she offered. Drinking on campus was pretty much the only rule she had ever seen Chekov break and, ironically, it had nothing to do with her.
"Nyet. I must study for exam tomorrow, but you are velcome to come stay vith Sulu and me tonight." Chekov answered. Dila attempted a pout but, judging from her friend's laughter, it was anything but effective.
"Nah, it's cool, man, I'll just go home to Nadine. I can hold it til tomorrow. We'll have another 'Chekov Broke the Curve' party." Dila didn't drink. Well, more accurately, she didn't get drunk. Not after the party she went to her freshman year where she puked all over Gaila, began blubbering something about ralfing all over Elphaba and then asked if Gaila "was green everywhere." That was the only time anyone could remember an Orion turning down sex.
"Okie. I vill see you tomorrow zen. Goodnight, Dila."
"'Night, Chekov." Dila clapped him on the shoulder and began heading towards the girl's dorms.
Dila banged open the door to her room and greeted Nadine with a belch.
"Hey, bro. Get any of that jailbait booty yet?" Nadine said, not looking up from her PADD. Dila yanked off her boots and shirt.
"Nah. I'm workin' on it though. Whatcha lookin' at?" Dila plopped down on her bed and pulled out her PADD as well. A picture of her and Chekov wearing fake moustaches lit up the screen.
"Porn." Nadine replied bluntly.
"Well, of course it's porn, Sherlock. I was gonna ask what kind."
"Just the set of Chapel that Kirk leaked last year. Can't believe he got her to pose for that shit. Anyway, you best make a move on your Russian soon, bro. I heard Gaila asking him for math help after my Klingon class today. And you know what 'math help' means to Gaila."
"Plugging his solution into her equation, I know. Just feels weird, ya know? I mean the age difference is one thing, but I don't think I was ever really an option to him. I mean, none of the girls he talks about are...ya know..."
"Competitive eaters with septum piercings and tattoos of mechanical octopuses?"
"Exactly."