Chapter 1

Getting a regular sleep schedule while in the middle of space is difficult. Getting a regular sleep schedule in the middle of space when you are an insomniac is impossible. So here I roamed Deck C, during the designated "sleep" time. I laughed darkly to myself as I roamed the hallways dimly lit by soft red lighting. My bed clothes, a sensible pair of shorts and tank top, were slightly chilly due to the AC running on high in the hallway, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. It was better than being cooped up in my cabin, tiny with stale air that reminded me of an airplane.

Back on earth when I would travel from my home state of Alaska to my family's residence in Arizona, I would take three motion sickness pills before I got on the large commercial passenger plane. It was out-of-style to fly nowadays, what with transporters in all major cities, but it had been all I could afford as I traveled on a college student's budget. I had hated it, and I always had taken Dramamine to make sure I would sleep through the flight. However, here on the Enterprise, I had been afraid to ask the ship's surgeon for anything, let alone medicine to help me sleep. I didn't want my condition to go on my permanent record and prevent me from staying on board. I had kept my head down, avoiding attention from my superiors, and I wanted to keep it that way.

Generally, as an engineer, I was on-call a lot of the time. Chief engineer Scott (or Scotty, as he kept insisting I call him) had me working on the engine factors that had been acting up ever since we passed through the DAC 21 nebula. The grueling process of moving grates and checking hardware had left me exhausted for the past two weeks, but I had finally found and fixed the problem (a glitch in the C34 board). As a result, Chief Engineer Scott had not put me on call for tonight. In fact, as we passed through a calm and quiet system, no one was really on call. Only a few people roamed the decks, generally crew members sneaking into each others cabins to have a late night rendezvous. Not that it was any of my business. However, as I walked the corridor, I couldn't help but laugh at the hurried gait of individuals on their way to someone else's cabin.

It was as if it were college again. People running to each other's rooms before the hall monitor could catch them. Nervously, I glanced around the corner, looking for said hall monitor. Unlike college, it wasn't an old lady who would give you a slap on the wrist. This week, it was first officer Spock- a half-human, half-Vulcan who made me incredibly nervous. Not seeing any sign of him, I continued my pacing by turning around at the elevator doors.

To my shock, the elevator hissed open, making me cry out and clutch my suddenly rapid beating heart.

"Excuse me. Are you all right?" A calm, levelheaded voice asked. I gulped and straightened, nodding.

"Yes, sir. I apologize. You startled me." I choked out; my voice sound and quiet and child-like in my ears.

"I can see that. What are you doing out at this time? You should be resting." First officer Spock was tall, probably 6'1", 6'2", and I craned my neck to see his face. In the red light, his pointed ears an upward turned eyebrows give him a slightly Satanic look, and I filed away the information in the back of my head to laugh at later. For now, I sought to answer his question.

I looked down at my bare feet, wondering what I look like. A frisky Yeoman off to some officer's bed?

"Just for a walk, Mr. Spock." I replied, trying to inject some confidence into my voice.

"Are you not tired? Adult humans require 7 to 8 hours of sleep per night, and there is approximately six hours and 58 minutes left until wake-up call. I suggest you return to your cabin and go to sleep." Mr. Spock informed me, standing tall and seemingly filling the hallway. His blue uniform looked purple in the light, and the red hallway seemed to be swallowed up by him. I searched for some logical protest, but there was none. Suddenly, I was struck by a question that erupted from my mouth before I could stop it. I made eye contact and asked,

"How much sleep does a Vulcan need?" Immediately, I blushed and shook my head, looking back down at my feet, embarrassed and shocked I was talking to a superior officer. Mr. Spock raised an eyebrow. Before he could speak to reprimand me, I spoke quickly.

"I'm sorry. I apologize. I'll headed to my cabin right away, sir. You have a good night, sir." I nodded at him and turned and scampered down the hallway, unsure of what had made me ask the first officer of his sleeping habits. I reached my cabin door and rested my head against it. Cold metal chilled my skin, sending goosebumps down my arms and neck. Perhaps, I was getting a fever. I shook my head. I had better hope not if I want to avoid that doctors visit.