Bad Blood

"Suppose you were an idiot, and suppose you were a member of congress; but I repeat myself." - Mark Twain

Let's say you're on a long voyage on a military ship far at sea. The craft is a new design, one which relies on the power of a radical new technology, a design so exotic that your very lives ride on the knife's-edge of disaster as the crew in the engine room slave to keep the thundrous dynamic forces under control.

The mission you're on is a dangerous one, your vessel churning through uncharted waters at high speeds, often coming under fire from enemy vessels. On the rare occasions you make port trouble inevitably rears its head and you're lucky to make it back to sea alive.

As though this all wasn't bad enough, everyone on board this ship, except for you, is an imbecile. Even the captain. The average IQ on board this ship is easily 80 points below yours and everyone knows it, leading to distrust, misunderstandings and the occasional insult.

These mental defectives hold your life in their very hands. One small mistake and you could be dead in an instant. You understood the situation when you signed on but you don't allow yourself to feel remorse because you know you have a job to do.

And now you know how Spock felt.

=mike=