Sam had spent the morning working. It had been a good, fairly productive morning, and she thought that she might actually be getting somewhere instead of the futile banging her head against a wall that she'd been doing for some time now. It felt good to be working with numbers and equations and theories after a year of forced absence from anything
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Holy Hannah. It was Uhura. And unlike Jim Kirk, who didn't look at all like William Shatner, she actually looked like Uhura.
Thankfully Sam's long military career had taught her something about hiding crazy facial expressions, or she would have been blinking and stammering like an idiot--she hadn't been here long but she'd been here long enough to know that that was pretty rude around here. "So it's been pretty bad to you, too? So far it's been pretty good to me, but not today."
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"It depends. Some days it behaves, and some days I think it doesn't have anything better to do than to try and get a rise out of me." She cast a wary glance over her shoulder at the jukebox. "Honestly, that thing's worse, but at least I like the music even if the message is heavy-handed."
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"Lieutenant Uhura, Starfleet," she said, offering her hand. "Nice to meet you, Samantha." They weren't friends yet after all. "Some of my best friends back home are scientists, even one astrophysicist. You all have the same tone when you hit a puzzle you just can't figure out."
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