After a day or two of nursing a hangover, and several days of writing up the patient care plan for Glitch, and another day or two of attempted woodworking, Dr. Beverly Crusher had had it with the tropics. It was at least something that she hadn't ended up sanding her hand off--she was used to places with limited economies, but there was always a
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He noticed as she went through the motions of her target practice that she seemed to hesitate upon firing, the hallmark of either someone with little practice with such a weapon, or a pacifist. It was then that he noticed her eyes upon him.
"That is a remarkable weapon you have," he told the woman informatively.
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She had subtly flicked on the safety as she turned, having cued it to her thumbprint before even leaving the house. "You're used to ballistic weapons?"
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"I'm afraid not," she said, giving him an apologetic smile. "I guess you haven't heard of the United Federation of Planets, either."
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