Operations Officer's Log

[Cmdr JFarrington 0]

Operations Officer’s Log, Stardate 0908.30

Cmdr JFarrington, MD

USS Manticore, NCC 5852A

 

Jami Farrington stopped to take a long, slow look at her login. Operations Officer. MD. She sat there for a while letting the double entendre sink in, then turned back to the console wishing it were as easy to get used to the configuration as it would be to remove a microscopic foreign body from a squirming dugesia tigrina. Either someone in Black Ops had a sick sense of humor or they genuinely wanted to deter infiltrators from stealing one of their precious Psi ships. Heck, maybe it was both.

 

“Like the new console?” said Keb, jerking Jami out of her stupor. A sideways glance revealed Keb’s face, beaming, looking as comfortable as ever at helm.

 

“It’s new?” Jami replied, glad that she hadn’t imagined the change and trying to cover up her discomfort.

 

“For you, I meant,” Keb replied.

 

Right. New for me. She stuck her tongue in her cheek to concentrate and settled more comfortably into her chair to… well… look more comfortable than she felt. “Oh. Right,” she said, tossing her head and giving an offhanded smile. “It’ll take a bit of getting used to again, but it’s like riding a bike.”

 

Riding a bike. Right. A button here, a tweak in the configuration to suit her personal taste, and she’d be working the console again like the pro she was.

 

Is.

 

Should be.

 

She puffed out a breath as they went to warp and settled in for the trip, but a sense of unease began to grow as a plethora of thoughts from the crew needled the back of her mind, chief among them being a full-fledged assault from engineering. She blinked, hoping it was an aberration, but it continued to grow until Chief Garnoopy burst through the turbolift doors just as Admiral Atragon exited his Ready Room.

 

Oh boy. This was going to be a very long mission.