The Wrong Foot

Shaka rushed down the crowded corridor, pushing past and weaving through the crowds of people. She even bowled a couple of people over with the large bag Shaka was carrying.

"Crap, crap, crap." She muttered to herself."Computer." She screamed over the noise from the crowds of people. "Where the hell is the Leviathan ?"

[The USS Leviathan is docked in bay thirteen.] The computer replied.

*I hope they don't leave without me.* She thought. Managing to squeeze herself into a turbolift, she announced. "Bay thirteen."

She emerged from the turbolift right in front of the airlock door. Putting her blue hand to the sensor, she gave her code. The doors obediently slid to the sides.

"Just in the nick of time." She stated, stepping through to the Leviathan's side of the airlock.

She directed her antennae in every direction, trying to get a feel for the sound of the ship. Shaka absorbed every sound and tone, realising this ship would be home to her for a long time. The more she listened however, the more she realised something odd.

"Computer, What percentage of the enlisted crew is currently aboard ?"

[There are currently twenty three enlisted crew currently aboard the Leviathan. The is ten percent of the entire enlisted crew.] The computer replied.

"What time is it ?" Shaka asked.

[The current time is 11:34am, Earth standard time.] The computer replied.

"Well I'm about a million hours early." She said to herself, always having a flair for hyperbole.

"Where is Commander Devore ?" She asked.

[Commander Devore is in his ready room.]

"Perfect" Shaka stated. She heard the distinct sound of a turbolift just around the corner and headed towards it. "Time to pay the Commander a visit."

Shaka impatiently pressed the bell on the ready room until a somewhat annoyed voice answered. "Come in!"

Shaka tossed her bag to the side of the doorway and stood before the Commander.

"Ensign Shaka reporting on board," she stated.

"Ensign" Devore repeated. "I've read your files and seen your disciplinary reports. Quite frankly, I'm shocked you've managed to stay in Starfleet Academy."

"Starfleet and I have had .. . differences of opinion." Shaka said, unwilling to give Devore any ammo to fire at her."

"Nevertheless, you have been assigned as the slipstream drive specialist to the Leviathan and I expect nothing short of perfection."

"The slipstream, sir...." she said somewhat heatedly "...is still very experimental. I've worked a lot with theories and I know how they work. And I know how the Slipstream drive works, I assure you. I'll give nothing short of perfection, but you have to understand I'm working without precedent."

Devore raised his tone a bit. "You know your responsibilities on this ship I assume ?"

"Yes, sir. I have been assigned to research, maintain, and ultimately perfect the slipstream drive."

"Excellent." The Commander said.

Shaka continued her explanation, "Although my uniform is gold, I am not an Engineer. Maintenance and repairs not related to the slipstream drive are not my responsibilities."

"You will follow the orders you are given by your superiors." Devore said sternly.

"I understand the chain of command." Shaka responded, straining to maintain a level tone. "I just thought I should make it clear that I cannot guarantee the quality of any work that I am not qualified to handle."

"Dismissed." Devore growled slightly.

Shaka slung her bag over her shoulder and stormed down the corridor of deck eight.

*I swear.* She thought. *If I meet one more Starfleet officer with a superiority complex...* She interrupted herself in mid thought, stopping in front of a door labelled Ensign Shaka Slipstream Drive Specialist. Shaka let herself in, the quarters were the average size for someone her rank. She couldn't help but wonder if she would later be assigned a roommate. Tossing her bag under a glass table, she flopped onto her bed.