A/N: As a reminder, this weird version of Star Trek is based on my life, so there's no telling what will happen because life is unpredictable.
Ode to A Starship by Lina Shay
Chapter Four: Emotions Come Easily
I had trouble sleeping, so it was no wonder that I dozed off in the department meeting the next morning. The cause for surprise was that I had managed to get away with it in loo of a scolding by Andrannon.
An Engineer was sent to repair my work station. I knew him somewhat as Lt. Hitchcock. It took him a couple hours to repair the console, during which he made casual conversation with me.
"A malfunction in the induction relay seems to have caused an overload in the heat inverters," he explained as if I had any idea what he was talking about. "Your warning light should have gone off in time for you to correct the malfunction."
"It did," I told him, a little embarrassed. "I just wasn't paying attention."
"Just trying to get out of doing work, huh?" He asked, flashing a handsome smile.
I found myself smiling back in spite of myself.
"I wonder how you can do work with so much talking going on," Andrannon said, appearing just behind me.
Hitchcock's expression went serious and he went back to fixing the console.
"Don't forget to give me a report of the procedure before you leave," Andrannon reminded.
"I'll be writing a report for Engineering when I get back," Hitchcock told her, pausing his work a moment.
"And you'll be writing one for me before you leave," Andrannon sneered at him and then went back to her station.
"Dang it!" He muttered. "I'll have replicate an extra data pad."
"Don't bother. I have one," I insisted, handing him a data pad that I had.
"Thanks," he said, taking it from me with a large smile. "That's great."
He got me to smile again just by smiling at me. He was a very handsome man, even though I didn't think he was really the kind I go for. But no guy would be Malk.
I was walking back to my quarters after my shift when I saw Lt. Whitley of Engineering. She always had the largest smile and had long, blonde hair. I wonder how someone can always be happy.
"How's it going, Lina?" She asked happily, starting my way. "Amazing?"
"Not amazing," I shrugged. "But ok."
"What have you been up to?" Whitley said, still incredably happy.
"Trying to figure out life," I muttered.
"That's a good use of time," Whitley commented. "Have you figured anything out yet?"
"I think I've been compairing all guys to Malk, and that's why I don't like anybody," I told her.
"That happens," Whitley insisted. "I do the same thing with Dustin. What happened with Malk, anyway?"
I took a breath. "He thought it best if we kept to a professional relationship. It was really hard to see him every day and know that I couldn't do anything to get him back. The next time we really talked, aside from random orders and polite greetings, was when he said goodbye."
"I think it went pretty close to the same way with me and Dustin," Whitley told me, still smiling but sounding a little sad. "Except he's still here, and I work with him every day."
How come she had her heartack worse than mine, but she still kept on smiling? I never understood how some people could be always so happy. I was headed in the direction, so I stopped by sickbay. B'Liz was there doing some biological research on Sisma's work station. I walked over to Sisma and greeted her indifferently.
"Hello, Lina," she said pleasently. "How was your day?"
I shrugged. Two Engineers entered with a plastic container. The second Sisma caught sight of the large box, a smile spread across her face and she began to jump up and down excitedly. The Engineers set the box on the floor
"Where would you like it, Doctor?" One of them asked.
"Just leave it here!" Sisma exclaimed, running over to the box and hugging it like a child at Christmas time hugs his favorite gift.
The Engineers smirked wryly and left.
"What is it?" I asked.
Sisma didn't answer. She pulled the top off the container and sat cross-legged next to it. Her face lit up as she reached inside and pulled out a dural regenerator.
"Medical supplies?" I asked, holding back a laugh. "You're excited to get a shipment of medical supplies?"
B'Liz chuckled.
"These aren't any kind of medical supplies," Sisma insisted. "They're high quality, tritanium equiptment. They'll last until I retire, or longer. And, oh! Oh! Indedrazine!"
She pulled out a vile of maroon liquid. "It's no good for cramps, but it works great for sprains. And I should know since I've sprained my ankle how many times because of B'Liz?"
"It was never my fault," B'Liz protested. "You're clumsey and you trip over your own feet."
"What about the time you did that Klingon move on me?" Sisma demanded.
"You were clumsey and tripped over my foot," B'Liz insisted, folding her arms.
"You spun me over your foot," Sisma accused, standing up and pointing at the Klingon who was two feet taller than her. "Those other times, you cursed me. Every time I get hurt, it's your fault. It's your violent thoughts."
"I'm dreaming of blood," B'Liz said randomly with a happily pensive look on her face.
Sisma gave me a funny smile and returned her attention to the box.
"What do you want for dinner, B'Liz?" Sisma asked as she began to put the medical supplies away.
"What did I just say? Blood!" B'Liz reminded.
"You know what I want, shish kebob," Sisma savored the words, and then cast a suspicious glance at B'Liz. "Maybe not. I don't think I want to give you a skewer."
"Why not? They're sharp and pointy, and you poke things with them," B'Liz grinned.
"Exactly," Sisma proved her point.
I shook my head. I couldn't believe how fast they skipped from one topic to another. As I thought of my eccentric friends, I convinced myself that this was the reason I liked to be around them. It was their complete randomness, their craziness and how they made me forget everything in my life that was wrong.