A curtain of white obscured nearly her entire field of vision: her pale hair spilled all around the sides of her face, and her unbuttoned ivory lab coat hung like a tent from her narrow, hunched shoulders. Craving deeper intimacy, zh’Irat circled the screen below her with her arms.
The data had been pouring in for hours. Commander Qsshrr and Lieutenant Turi were rightfully marveling over the latest holographic model that hovered over their terminal, double- and triple-checking the results of the computer’s analysis. Their satisfaction was gratifying to zh’Irat, but right now she could only concern herself with the machines that made it possible. The data would mean nothing if the experiment didn’t run properly, if the instruments couldn’t run the length of the chroniton strings into the distance without plucking or unraveling them.
She leaned even closer to the monitor, only distantly aware of the ongoing conversation.
“It’s nice to witness an event like this in progress,” admitted Qsshrr. “One of the benefits of a posting on a small ship. Tell me, Lieutenant Turi, has the Knight run any interesting studies lately?”
“Can’t really say we have, we are usually heading into the heat of things or helping with humanitarian aid along the Romulan border,” Turi replied. “So this is a nice change of pace,” she added.
“Every Starfleet vessel needs a science officer, or it’s not truly a Starfleet vessel,” said Qsshrr sagely. “Even if their mission parameters don’t leave much room for research. Tell me, what did you major in at the Academy?”
Turi looked at Qsshrr. “Just general science, no real speciality. I know it sounds boring, but I really couldn’t choose one thing,” she replied honestly.
“It’s not boring–” Qsshrr began, but zh’Irat cut her off.
“That sounds dull as rocks,” said zh’Irat, who felt the words tumble out of her mouth rather than her brain. She hadn’t meant to say the words out loud, but the nearby conversation was stimulating her atrophied social muscles in a way she didn’t quite understand.
When she looked up and saw Turi’s surprised face and Qsshrr’s frozen carapace, she cursed her vocal chords. “Oh, uh, I apologize for my turn of phrase, Commander.”
“That’s quite alright, zh’Irat,” said Qsshrr, though zh’Irat thought she detected hesitation in her voice.
“And,” zh’Irat hastened to add, “Apologies to Lieutenant Turi as well. I just– uh, can’t imagine not having a dedicated problem to really tear into.”
She mimed the tearing with her hands, then let them hover over the console for a moment before gripping it tightly, bracing herself for some kind of social fallout.
