Sumati pulled her uniform jacket taut over her body,
glancing down briefly to confirm that she looked suitably smart. It really
shouldn’t matter, she thought to herself, as she flicked aside a few stray
hairs from her jet black fringe. Here, just beyond the borders of Federation
space, nobody was going to care that much.
Except that the senior officers might very well care,
especially with the Captain being such a stickler for rules. The Captain always
looked immaculate, almost infuriatingly calm and polished. And Sumati knew
exactly what the Captain would say: today she was representing Starfleet, and
couldn’t afford to let the side down.
The last thing Sumati wanted right now was to turn up at the
transporter room and be sent back to tidy herself up. Perhaps it wasn’t very
likely – it rather depended who was on duty – but she wasn’t going to take the
risk.
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