A day in the life of Counselor Troi
Star Trek: The Next Generation A day in the life
of Counselor Troi.
"Will, I sense something," said Troi.
"Knock it off Deanna, you're always saying
that," said Riker. "I have a real problem."
"You're upset because the leader of Angle One
has slapped you with a paternity suit," Troi
commented.
Riker sighed heavily. "I never thought when
I put on those gigolo clothes and went to a
private reception in her quarters-"
"I sensed the two of you were fooling
around," said Troi astutely.
The communicator chimed. "Numba one," came
the Captain's voice. "If you're finished
discussing your paternity suit with Counselor
Troi, I could use you on the bridge. Mr. Data is
attempting to grow a moustache again, and I need a
vivid example of the perils of facial hair."
"On my way," said Riker, heading for the
door.
Troi yawned; it had been a long day.
"I sense something," she said, staring at her
image in the mirror. "No, that doesn't sound
convincing.... I sense something," she said, with
more feeling. "I sense something...." she added
some dreamy inflection, "I sense something....
Yes, that's it...." Smiling, with a satisfied
look on her face, she retired to her couch.
Yawning she stretched her shoulders, but then she
heard a sudden tearing sound. Suddenly there was
a gigantic rip in her skintight body uniform.
"Computer," said Troi, stepping up to her
personal replicator. "Access Troi garment file."
"Accessing." An image of a garment appeared
on the screen.
"Computer, modify parameters," said Troi.
"Set tightness parameter to .3"
"Warning," said the computer, beeping twice.
"At new setting estimate 78% probability of
clothing failure in two weeks."
"Understood," said Troi. "Computer, lower
neckline 2.4... no, make that 3.3-"
"Warning," said the computer again. "You are
attempting to exceed starfleet aesthetic
guidelines-"
"Computer, override aethetic guidelines, and
manufacture," said Troi, angry at the prudish
machine. The alcove hummed, and the garment
appeared. After a few minutes of struggling to
get it on, Troi found it fit perfectly. Turning
to the mirror, she resumed her exercises,
intoning, "I sense something...."
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