There was no excuse. For Mira, there was no explanation for what had just happened. One moment she was glancing over notes she'd been working on to help perfect the fuel for the rockets, and thinking about what a primitive technology it was (but a necessary primitive precaution), and then the next she was surrounded by a group of science division
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Comments 14
Over time, he’d also added certain names to the list of “notify immediately if…” including Ensign Martine, Yeoman Rand, and Lieutenant Romaine. Which was how he knew she was coming to Medical; and how, when she entered, he was already standing there, hands folded across his chest, looking incredibly irritated.
“What have you done now?” he barked.
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"Nice to see you, too, Dr. McCoy," she muttered as she walked toward him. With the tone of voice he used, it was difficult not to respond with pure sarcasm. "Oh, you know, I was thinking 'I haven't annoyed my favorite doctor lately,' so I intentionally spilled hydrofluoric acid on my arm." She flashed a cheeky smile before rolling her eyes.
Despite her calm demeanor, her forearm was really starting to burn, especially the area around her wrist bone. Holding a straight face was becoming a challenge as she bit back a grimace. She did not want this to turn into some serious; McCoy would never let her live it down, just as she made sure his wall-crashing incident was never long forgotten.
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She took slow breaths as she listened to him, hoping it would help to keep her voice calm. "Let's see," she answered; her voice shook slightly. "I knocked over a beaker that contained water, but I don't know what its exact measurements were since I didn't put it there." She made sure to note that fact because it still boggled her mind as to how it appeared. “Based on the amount of hydrogen fluoride it mixed with, then I want to say that its concentration is no more than… 12 ( ... )
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