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[right][hr][color=white][b][b]Pilot's Quarters, Fortuna | In Transit[/b][/b][/color]
February 21st, 3061[hr][/right]
[indent][indent][indent]"[color=73748B]Now, take two of these tonight, and another two tomorrow morning, then come back to me again. I'll get you fixed up.[/color]"

Andrea held a smile as she spoke into the standing mirror propped against one side of her quarters, voice carrying an emotion that could pass for kindness, but slightly too exaggerated, too saccharine. After a moment she dropped her head and sighed, rolling her shoulders. Stepping primly over to her desk, she barely held back a yawn as she began to play her fingers over the projected image of a keyboard that emerged from the small computer terminal, typing up her results. As she did, she muttered under her breath, "[color=73748B]Still no success. Still looks and sounds disingenuous. Have yet to figure out how I used to be able to do it. Perhaps a live trial would be more efficient than speaking to a mirror; having a subject might precipitate a better response from the amygdala and limbic system and allow for better recollection of how I used to speak during medical practice.[/color]"

She slapped the side of the terminal, turning the keyboard off to avoid any stray errors that would result in a typo or skewed data. Then she leaned her head back, pulling her hair out from behind her and letting it fall over the chair. She puffed her cheeks out, huffing a breath and staring out into space. [i][color=73748B]My colleagues used to be able to do this too. What did they do that you're missing, Andy? Perhaps I went too far on the tone of voice, or the language wasn't casual enough?[/color][/i]

Shaking her head, she failed at holding back the yawn this time, her perpetual sleeplessness dogging her heels as it always did. She ignored it, pointedly staring away from the bed. She had too much to do. Scooping up half a dozen pill bottles from her desk, she carefully placed them into a bag that she kept hanging by the door. Then, even more carefully, she transplanted four syringes from a rack on her desk to a case that she slid into her pocket. Sliding the bag over her shoulder, she pulled her door open and headed for the medical bay. They'd never cared too much about her working there, as long as she never made too much of a mess and always cleaned it up. But it was nearly impossible to get live test subjects there. If she tried, she would alarm the rest of the medical staff, and she didn't need to get tossed up the [i]Fortuna[/i] like she was tossed off of Kallas. As unimpressive as they were compared to her old laboratories, they were still a long way better than most of the places she'd worked after her license was stripped.

But that was neither here nor there. She didn't need a live subject at the moment. Not until much later. For now, she just needed to make sure the drugs she was working with could actually be worked with the way she hoped they could without losing potency. Or gaining too [i]much[/i] potency. Muscle relaxants were all well and good when used to keep someone from moving during an operation, or any other situations where she might not want them to. But too much of a good thing, as they always used to say. There were drugs that were meant for killing that she'd used before. This was not supposed to be one of those.

As she walked quickly through the narrow hallways towards the lifts that would take her to the inner decks and, eventually, the medical facilities, she carefully opened up the needle case, scrutinizing each just to make sure that they were exactly what she needed. Good. She smiled to herself, quietly humming as she blinked her tired eyes and closed the case and delicately placed it back into her pocket. She accelerating her pace. The earpiece in her ear hummed quietly along with her. If there was anything she needed to know, she'd hear it. Otherwise, she hoped she'd be left unbothered.

After all, there was so much to do!
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