Year 2405 - Starfleet Technical Services Academy, Mars
Rebecca's arms looped slowly about, her hands curled up like claws. She lithely moved about like a leopard about to strike, taking deep breaths as she moved through the motions of the Klingon martial art Mok'bara. She silently thanked the gods of class scheduling that her roommate's classes were scheduled for when she had free time, allowing her to take over the entire dorm room for her relaxation and meditation techniques. It also allowed her to the ridiculous heavy metal dubstep that she was oddly relaxed by.
She frequently needed time for relaxation though, thinking incorrectly that the anger and indignity she'd felt during her high school years would cease once she entered Starfleet's school for noncoms, that minds working to better themselves to in turn better society through Starfleet service would be above jealously over receiving a symbiote partner.
HA.
If anything, the Trills who had washed out of the candidacy program and joined Starfleet seemed to feel even more negatively than the Trill high schoolers. Nobody had taken a swing at her yet - though Rebecca felt THAT was inevitable as long as she kept overshadowing them, never mind that none of her previous selves had ever been engineering students - but few were the Trill students who hadn't at some point snapped at her or given her thinly-veiled insults for what they failed to prove worthy of.
In defiance of her attempts at relaxing, Rebecca imagined that she was performing full-power strikes upon her classmates with each motion. Shatter Quont's nose. Box Calisin's ears. Crush a few of Gilz's teeth.
Fortunately for her calm, the communicator began to chime. Incoming call from U.S.S. Carol. Better get presentable.
Rebecca quickly threw on her uniform jacket and turned on her viewscreen before the yellow-uniformed security officer on the distant starship appeared. Long, blonde hair framed the familiar face of Vina.
"Practicing mok'bara again, I see," Vina chuckled.
"You're getting good at reading people," Rebecca confirmed. "Must be all that interrogating you do on those deep space missions."
"Oh yeah, I'm constantly reading these Vulcan mind-reading manuals and studying how to discern why someone's face is flushed," Vina snorted. "No, I see your mat's out again. Kill anyone this time?"
"Only in my dreams, V. Only in my dreams," Rebecca sighed. She quickly jumped onto her bed like she was a teenager calling across town again. "SO what's new? You meet any hot space dudes in the far reaches? Save any for me?"
"The only hot dude I've met out here is a red dwarf sun. We won't be so far though; all survey ships bigger than a light cruiser are being recalled because...well...you heard about Korvat, right?"
Rebecca nodded. The planet Korvant in the Pi Canis Majoris sector, once the site of initial negotiations to end the old Federation-Klingon cold war, had been attacked by the Klingon Defense Force several days ago to remove all non-Klingons from the region. The Federation had sent a fleet of ships to defense the system, thus sparking a new war between the Klingon Empire and the Federation. Many of Rebecca's instructors had told her that this war had been brewing for years, ever since the Klingons had subjugated the Gorn Hegemony, the Orion Syndicate, and several other of their neighbors while the Federation did nothing.
"We're being sent to the Regulus sector to keep an eye on the Neutral Zone," Vina explained. "Not that I think they'll respect the Neutral Zone much longer. Captain's ordered all security personnel to start wearing body armor and training into anti-Bat'leth tactics."
"That form-fitting stuff? Awful, awful things to wear," Rebecca scoffed. "I got to try on a set as part of a test to see how I could improve it. Too tight in the chest for me though."
Vina giggled girlishly. "You'll have to model it for me when you've figured out how to solve that problem."
"I think our training's being rushed a little to fill hulls," Rebecca said, changing the topic before she blushed. "The class ahead of mine is being graduated a year early."
"You could always sign up for full officer training," Vina remarked. "Then you'd get to go to that nice, warm academy on Earth where everyone gets to pretend the war won't effect Starfleet's science programs."
"Pffft...like I'd ever make officer," Rebecca scoffed. "I've got more realistic goals, like figuring out how to make these academy replicators stop sweetening my coffee with gravy."
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