Authors Note: Thanks for all of the feedback so far, guys! I'm glad you like the story. Enjoy Chapter 3.

Trigger – Chapter 3

Who the hell did James Tiberius Kirk think he was? Marisa shoved another thing in the shoebox that was her closet, scowling to herself. Sure, she had heard about his antics at school. He was hot, and would sleep with anything wearing a skirt. But she had heard the story of Nero and the Romulans, and how he saved Captain Pike and Earth and all that. Star Fleet let him captain the Enterprise, for God's sake! That should say something. But apparently the man hadn't matured at all since he was eighteen. He still wore a cocky grin, that insufferable smirk that told Marisa he thought that he owned the damn place. He was attractive, yes, but my God, did he know. And nothing was more unattractive than that. She slammed a drawer shut, running a hand through her hair.

The worse part had been that no one had even cared! He had asked her out right then and there, without even knowing her at all and right after hitting on the cadet next to him! And even Commander Spock, who seemed like the sort that would follow the rules, didn't even berate him for it. Clearly, being captain gave Kirk the right to do whatever the hell he wanted. Marisa was just going to have to steer clear of him.

Flopping down on the bed, she glanced around the tiny room that had been assigned to her. It was simple enough – a bed, a bedside table, a tiny little closet, and a bathroom. It was a little cramped, but it served its purpose. Sighing softly, Marisa let her eyes flicker closed, and she was just about to take a little nap when she remembered her promise to Kim. Groaning, she sat up, fishing her PADD out of the bag she had tossed at the foot of her bed. She settled back against the plain white wall, so much like the ones in her dorm room back at the Academy, and opened up the messaging window.

Hey Kimmie!

I miss you already. Hopefully your shuttle ride went smoothly and you're now somewhere on the USS Farragut. The sickbay, probably. Knowing you, you already know all of the doctors and nurses, the exact layout of the entire damn place, and have been chatting with one of the engineers who just needed a damn bandage for the past fifteen minutes.

Nothing much to report here. I'm sitting in my room on the Enterprise, which, if you haven't already seen yours, you'll soon find out is about a quarter of the size of our room back at the Academy. But it fits everything, and I don't plan to spend a lot of time in here anyway, so it'll be okay. Later this afternoon I'll meet with the Head Engineer and the guy who runs the weapons on the bridge to find out exactly what I'll be doing. It's exciting – the ship is so incredible, Kim! I can't believe I'm actually in space.

Speaking of introduction, do you remember James Kirk? I think you had an advanced medical course with him once, and Rachel had a thing with him last spring for about a week. Anyway, I don't know how I forgot considering the story was told and retold for practically the entire first term, but he's captain of the Enterprise. And of course, from the story, you'd think that he's so mature now, so responsible and always looking out for his crew. Ha! What a joke. He's the exact same he was in school, if not worse. I hadn't even spoken to the man, and when he came down to greet us he asked me if I wanted to get dinner. What nerve!

Of course, I told him exactly what I thought of that idea, which I don't think he approached. I can't imagine he gets turned down much. After all, despite being an absolute asshole, he's just as attractive as everyone always said. So I fully plan on avoided him before I'm harassed anymore, and spending the rest of my time working on weapons in the Engineering Department or learning how to actually use them on the bridge.

Hopefully the crew of the Farragut is a bit more enjoyable. I'm sure you've made plenty of new friends, and have broken half of the boys' hearts already. Anyway, I can't wait until I hear all about what you've been up to – just no gruesome medical details please. There's a reason why I'm a weapons officer and not a nurse.

Love, Marisa.

A click later and the message was off, zipping through outer space. Hopefully Kim would get it and respond by the time Marisa went to bed; she really wanted to hear how her best friend was doing. Glancing over at the clock, Marisa realized that she should probably head up to the mess hall if she wanted some lunch. Throwing her long blonde hair back up into a messy ponytail and tugging back on the standard-issue Star Fleet boots, Marisa opened her door with a pneumatic hiss. It shut behind her automatically as she stepped out into the hall, and would only open with her fingerprint reading.

Without another thought, she began to wind her way through the spartan white halls, punctuated here and there with the flash of silver or a door to another room. Thankful that she had paid attention when Commander Spock had been talking about the floor plan, Marisa only got lost one time before reaching the mess hall. She knew she had arrived a full minute before she actually saw the doors simply by the sound of clanking silverware and laughter that floated down the hall in front of her. As she finally reached the entrance, the metal doors slid open automatically, letting her see for herself what lay inside.

Biting her lip, Marisa made her way to the buffet. People of all rank were clustered around the tables, eating off of their trays and chatting with their friends. For a while, she had managed to forget that she was new and didn't know anyone on the ship yet. Now, as she moved slowly down the line with her own tray in hand, it came back to her in full force.

With a full meal in front of her, Marisa turned around, her sharp green eyes sweeping the room. There were a few empty tables scattered throughout the crowd, and she figured it would be easier to sit at one of them than invading someone else's table. After all, she couldn't spot any of the other new cadets. In fact, the only people she saw that she knew were Commander Spock and Captain Kirk, both sitting together at a table in the back. And like hell she was going to subject herself to that.

With her head held high, Marisa made her way to the nearest empty table, setting her tray down and sliding into a seat. She had barely begun picking at her food when another tray was set down across from her, the bang of the plastic against plastic causing her to look up. In front of her was a gorgeous dark-skinned officer, pulling off the short red Star Fleet dress in a way that Marisa never could. The woman smiled, sitting down across from her.

"Do you mind if I join you?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, of course not. Go ahead," Marisa replied, giving the woman a small smile in return.

"I'm Lieutenant Uhura," the woman continued. "But you can call me Nyota. Cadet Ward, right?" She asked, bringing her fork down to spear some of the salad that was on her plate. Marisa nodded, a look of confusion flitting across her face. How had the woman known who she was? Almost as if reading the girls' mind, Nyota continued.

"Myself and a few of the other officers came down with Captain Kirk to greet you all. Though I must say, I think he did a well enough job all by himself." She rolled her eyes. That meant that she had been there to witness the whole Kirk Debacle. Marisa winced slightly. Nyota didn't seem to notice, however.

"Thank God you said something. I can't believe that he did that. On your first day too! What kind of image of the Enterprise is that supposed to represent? Kirk just doesn't think half of the time." She shook her head, pausing to take a bite of her salad. So apparently, Marisa wasn't the only one who thought that the captain had acted like an asshole. That was good to know, at least.

"Is he like that all the time?" She asked, slightly afraid of what the answer would be.

"Unfortunately, yes," Nyota replied with a sympathetic smile. "He's James Kirk, after all. Being made captain has done nothing for him but increase his ego. But don't worry," she assured the younger girl. "I doubt he'll be bothering you anytime soon." She chuckled slightly as she took a sip of her drink. "He's not exactly used to rejection." Marisa laughed as well, setting down her fork for a moment.

"Yeah, I kind of figured that. I remember hearing stories about him at the Academy, but I figured that since he was running his own damn ship he would have matured a little. Guess I was wrong." She rolled her eyes. After all, it wasn't as if she had never dealt with his kind before. Being in Star Fleet usually gave all men a big head, which usually meant that they thought any random girl they hit on in a bar or at a party would go home with them. Marisa had plenty of opportunities to hone the skill of rejection of the years. "You can call me Marisa, by the way," she added with a smile. Nyota seemed nice – and she seemed to share Marisa's feeling on Kirk as well. Judging by her fellow female cadets' responses earlier, it was a rare one around these parts.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Marisa. Oh!" She spotted someone over Marisa's shoulder, a grin spreading across her face. "Chekhov! Come over here. There's someone I want you to meet." She smiled reassuringly at Marisa, who gave her a quick smile in return. As painful as awkward introductions were – Kim had always been the one to make friends in a second, not Marisa – she would at least now know more than one person onboard.

"Chekhov, this is Marisa Ward. She's the new Assistant Weapons Officer." Nyota smiled. The man that she called Chekhov was young – maybe Marisa's age, if not younger. He was clearly Russian, and had curly hair and friendly eyes. Marisa brushed some hair out of her face, setting down her fork as she smiled at him.

"Ensign Chekhov is the navigator and tactical officer on board, so you'll be working with him quite a bit," Nyota told her. Tactical officer – that meant that Chekhov would be working with the strategies behind the weapons. She assumed that the engineer she had yet to meet would help her with the mechanics behind the actual weapons themselves. At the thought, Marisa's green eyes sparkled. As odd as it was, she loved working with weapons, and she was glad that she got to deal with both sides of the defense with her position.

"It weel be a pleasure to work with you, Mareesa," he told her with a smile and a thick Russian accent.

"I'm looking forward to it!" She told him with a laugh. As Nyota and Chekhov fell into conversation about something that happened the other day, Marisa just resumed eating, letting it all sink it. She was finally a part of the crew of the USS Enterprise. She had met two new friends, and hopefully a message from Kim would be waiting for her when she went back to her room. So far, so good.

Grinning to herself, she looked around, her bright green eyes roving around the mess hall. They slid over the laughing faces of her fellow crew members, who she would hopefully get to know over the next few days. Without even meaning to, her gaze passed over the table where Spock, Kirk, and a few of the other senior officers were eating. She would have just kept on going, too, if one obnoxious captain hadn't chosen that exact moment to look up. And without even meaning to, Marisa found herself staring into the hypnotizing blue gaze of Captain James T. Kirk.

AN: So not as much Marisa/Kirk in this chapter. I'm still setting things up. But next chapter will have more – I promise! Please leave a review :)