Paul Gadzikowski
scarfman@iglou.com

STAR TREK Fiction

T*R*E*K: "Certain you don't know what irritation is?"

Hawkeye glanced irritably at the silent comm on the rec deck wall. "I wish they'd pick that thing up."

"Not your concern, Lieutenant Commander," Srank said.

"Stop kibbitzing, Srank," said Trapper John, on the other side of the three-d chessboard from Hawkeye. "It's not your game."

"The helm is in capable hands," Srank droned in his clipped tones, "and there will certainly be no call for security measures before the buoy is retrieved. Neither of the departments over which you preside require your supervision in this matter.

"It's not as if you were the captain," Srank added.

"Oh, blow off," Hawkeye said.

"Srank got out of the pedantic side of the bunk today," Trapper John said.

"The other side's against the wall," Hawkeye said.

"A display of annoyance is uncalled for," Srank retorted. "Even a half-Vulcan such as Ensign O'Reilly -" Srank indicated the other spectator of the chess game, who unlike Srank sported no more evidence of Vulcan heritage than pointed ears. "- has better emotional control than you do."

Trapper John took a pawn with a knight. "Your move."

Hawkeye took the knight with a rook. "Checkmate."

"Wow!" said Ensign O'Reilly.

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