Know your English...cuz one wrong word can make all the difference...
Scotty walked down the hallway, Starfleet duffle slung over his shoulder. After a particularly gruelling month of system upgrades, he was finally going on shore leave.
He rubbed his tired eyes. The more he thought about it, maybe requisition red tape was a blessing in disguise.
"All those back orders I been waiting for….wouldn't ye know it, they all came in at once…"
"Fail."
"Indeed, laddie…..oh, goodness, there ye'are, Keenser. Here and I thought ye wouldnae come after all." Scotty looked down and to his left to find his friend in casual garb, dragging a bag that was almost as big as he was. "Let me take that for ya –oof! What are ya bringing along with ya, the warp core?"
Scotty shifted his bag to his right shoulder and carried Keenser's on his left. "Ahh, vacation! Now the fun part begins. I've been meanin' tae visit the advanced propulsion facility on Tyteros VI for three years….a few of me old classmates work there now. It's a far cry from Delta Vega, let me tell ye….warm breezes, blue skies…"
Keenser looked up at him as they turned a corner. "Honeymoon."
Scotty dropped the bags on the floor. "It's not a bloody honeymoon!" Several people turned to look at him. His face flushed, and he crossed his arms. "Do ye even know what the word means, now?", he asked in a stage whisper.
If Keenser could ever be said to look confused, he did now. "Vacation."
Scotty's quickly went from indignant to amused. He chuckled. "Well, it is, and it isn't…."