[Transporter technician emery-boards his nails at the console. Sitting down, legs crossed.]
[Second man in circuitry cabinet on wall, to Technician's right.]
Technician: Jenkins, I told you to stop fiddling with that. Nothing in here works right. You're just going to make it worse.
Jenkins: Do you know how many times I've had to share the turbolift with Lieutenant Del Toro? I can't even look him in the eye. THE MAN LOST HIS ARMS. I just stand there, looking at everything but him. And he won't stop clearing his throat the whole time.
Technician: Well, even if you fixed every glitch in this room, including the coordinate resolver terminal, it wouldn't bring his arms back. Besides, he can get prosthetics, make himself the arm-wrestling champ of every shore leave. He would win every bar fight.
[Phone rings. Technician lifts receiver to ear.]
Technician: Transporter room four here. [Pause as someone else is talking.] No, I really don't think that's a good idea [Pause.] Oh, a red shirt? Really? What department? [Pause.] Engineering? Well has everyone else got their digs in? Yeah, cos this is pretty final. Yeah. [Pause.] Let me guess, he thinks Scotty's his best friend... [Pause] Ha, what a sucker. Yeah, send him down. I don't know, that's your job. It's not going to be an intra-ship transport, that's for sure. Could you imagine if he materialized in the galley? No one would eat for a week. [Pause] Well come up with something, and I'll hack a fudge for the transport log. [Pause] 15 minutes? Sounds good. Just one more thing... He isn't cute, is he? {Pause] Well, that's a shame. God, I hope he's wearing clean underwear...
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