Lady Cop
Outside the security office, La'an threw Jenna a disdainful look. "You should talk less."
"What? I didn't say anything!"
"'Massive dogs?'" La'an shook her head, disgustedly.
"I was helping you build rapport."
"I didn't need the help. And you sound like a lunatic."
"I sounded like-" Jenna spun in her heel and held her hands together, index fingers extended like a gun pointed at the ceiling—"Jenna Mitchell: Lady Cop!"
La'an blinked at her a few times. "What. The actual. Fuck. Are you doing?"
"It's my alter-ego," Jenna blinked. "I'm taking a break from Lieutenant Mitchell, Ops officer and navigator."
"I don't think you should take that break," La'an said tightly.
"I spent the days since Commander Chin-Riley assigned me to cross-train in security watching old holo-series from the twenty-first century. That would totally have been the name of a series: Jenna Mitchell: Lady Cop. And it would be about a tough female investigator solving crime on the mean streets of…some dangerous, dynamic, exciting city. Ottawa, maybe."
"That's inane," La'an said sharply. "And they wouldn't call it Lady Cop. That's genedering a profession. That was against the law in the twenty-first century."
"No it wasn't," Jenna refuted hotly. "There were barely any women in the professional fields. Women couldn't even drive back then. They definitely would have called it Lady Cop. That's how you get viewers."
"They could drive," La'an corrected.
"Not according to my research."
La'an consulted a holographic directory. "The Taco Tiki Hut is here, on the food court level." She put her finger through the spinning render of the restaurant. "Two levels down. Let's go have a chat with the manager and coworkers."
"Lady Cop," Jenna whispered, eyes alight.
"Don't make me throw you out an airlock."