Work Text:
A NEW PERSPECTIVE
Life on board the U.S.S. Enterprise... what could be more glamorous? I know this is what you're thinking when you think of Starfleet and its most famous starship.
After all, they save people from doomed planets! They get into altercations with Romulans, with Ferengi, even with the Borg! They literally affect civilizations. They have wonderful adventures. Life on board the Enterprise is never dull... and baby, you don't know the half of it!
But I'm getting ahead of myself. I'm one of those civilians who live on the ship, one of those you hear a lot about but never see. I'm willing to bet you've seen me in the background a few times, or seen me running down a corridor when the ship is evacuated, but beyond that you know nothing about me. Well, that's okay. I'm a chemist. My husband, he's the Starfleet officer. He's a warp propulsion expert, so he's usually down in the engine room when something goes wrong with the ship.
And, you know, things go wrong with it damn often. It's irritating... and that's why I'm telling you this. I'd like just one person to know what it's like to be one of the faceless mass mentioned in nearly every episode.
I'm here, quite simply, to tell you about life on board the Enterprise. Where shall I begin? Well, maybe the beginning. We came aboard the ship when it was commissioned, which means that we were there when the Enterprise encountered the being known as Q. Boy, were we there!
I didn't see Q, of course, only felt the effects of his presence. My husband was in the engine room, and I decided to take a nice, long, hot bath. A foam bath, something to relax in after all the business of moving our things on board. Just as I eased myself into the tub and let out a long sigh, the stupid red alert sounded! I've come to hate that sound with a passion. The next thing, the saucer section (with me aboard) went one way, and the stardrive section (with my husband aboard) went another. Great. There I stood, just dressed, hearing about some emergency that required separation. Just great. I got hubby back okay, thank goodness.
Too bad I didn't realise then that foam baths aren't a good idea aboard starships. Most Starfleet officers shower, and I soon took to showering too.
It was the Binars next, of course. There I was, lying listening to rock 'n roll and soaking away my tension when Lieutenant Commander Data's voice comes over the comm panel, saying evacuate. Yeah, right. In a towel I had to evacuate. I stood on the starbase, looking pretty stupid with just a towel around me. Someone eventually gave me a coverall to put on. I thought that nothing worse could possibly happen. Wrong.
There I was one day, conducting a very delicate experiment with a new corrosive material someone had just discovered, and the ship lurches. All the stuff was all over the console, the floor and me. That required a visit to Sickbay, and a repair team was needed in the lab.
Not to mention the dozens of times I was almost run down by security teams, all rushing somewhere or other to do something or other. A person learns pretty quickly to flatten oneself against the bulkhead when you hear running footsteps.
And then there was the day my child and I are taking a stroll in the corridor, and we come face to face with some renegade Klingons. I mean, could we have just a bit of peace? This Klingon, he picks Sheru up and looks at her, and Tasha calls the bridge about a hostage situation. My child was apparently the hostage. Then he puts her down and I pick her up, and I later hear Worf say that Klingons do not take hostages. Didn't the man read ANY Starfleet history? I've read a lot of history books, and they all talk about Klingons taking hostages. Then again, most of that was written by the infamous James T. Kirk, and we know how HE felt about Klingons!
I'm getting off the subject. More than once I've been thrown out of bed by the ship lurching. I've been on board during phaser hits, passed out when the life support systems on my deck went off, been propositioned by a Ferengi, and then Deanna Troi (it's unfair that ANYONE should have hair like that!)
wants me to talk about my feelings! Give me a break! Once, I let loose about the constant interruptions and she just looked sympathetic and said I knew what I was getting into when I came aboard. Like she cares. She's usually on the bridge when something happens, so she knows what's going on. Not like me.
And then of course there was the time we hit the quantum filament. Bang, out go the lights. Out goes just about everything. We all gathered in the corridor to discuss what had happened (an emergency bulkhead had sealed off our section - and my daughter was in another section!) and someone mentions
the rumour that the people in Engineering are dead, and the ship might separate. I started crying, thinking of my husband. We all were in pretty bad shape. Later, when we were all okay again, Troi wanted to know how I felt. I told her. She said she understood, but I think she had to ask the computer
about the meanings of some of the words I used.
Oh, I forgot to tell you about the Borg. That was when they kidnapped Captain Picard. What a time that was! This time, we were lucky enough to know what was happening. I stood at a viewport when we separated, and watched us firing antimatter at the Borg ship. A lot of my friends were hurt during that
whole business. I try not to think about it too often.
There've been too many incidents to mention. Alien radiation doing funny things. Lwaxana Troi insulting my style of dress. Aliens carrying on like they owned the place. Trying to explain a lot of this to my child.
Finally, after the incident with the time loop (I had the feeling of deja vu down pat after that), I complained for the hundredth time (my better half had been keeping count), and my husband said fine, he'd ask for a transfer to a starbase. No more danger, no more running around in a towel, no more seeing people running up and down during emergencies and not knowing what was happening. No more panicking about my child if she wasn't with me during a red alert. And I said I'd stay.
I know - you must be thinking I'm nuts, or a masochist. Not really. I do hate the ship lurching when I'm eating or bathing my child. I do hate the danger, the knowledge that tomorrow I might be evacuating the ship in a towel. But my husband thrives on it. My child calls it home. And me... this is real life. This isn't the safety of a planet, where every day is routine. It isn't knowing what each new day will bring. It's really living life. Each day is a new challenge. Oh, sure, I'll go on complaining. I'll swear in Klingon or
Bajoran every time something happens to disrupt my life. I'll cry for friends lost. I'll make jokes about the bridge crew behind their backs.
See, it's okay. We really are going where no one has gone before. We are really living. We are constantly experiencing new things. Secretly, I thrive on it as well.
Life on board the Enterprise? Accept no substitutes!!
END