voice at the top of her lungs.
At that moment, Ivanova was approached by a woman with a clipboard whom she had noticed as one of the directors of the madness which had seized the cargo bay. The woman said, "Ah, Commander ... Dr. Elizabeth Trent, IPX," then noticed that Ivanova was staring at the clipboard. She probably figured that Ivanova was impressed by her efficiency and organization. In point of fact, Ivanova was mentally picturing the sheer joy which would ensue if she took the clipboard and proceeded to beat a few of the technicians to death.
Continuing in valuable obliviousness, Trent said, "I assume Captain Sheridan briefed you on our mission?"
"Actually, this is my station, Doctor," Ivanova informed her in a voice that mingled both pride and annoyance that Trent would even suggest that she, Ivanova, was out of the loop. "Nothing happens here that I don't know about." Realizing that it might be better to say something other than what was going through her mind, such as Get the hell off my station, she turned and gestured to the chief medical officer. "This is Dr. Stephen Franklin. You'll be coordinating with him on any organic findings."
Trent shook his hand and said, by way of acknowledgment, "Doctor."
"Nice to meet you," said Franklin, and he wasn't kidding. She was indeed a very attractive woman, and her no-nonsense air was most pleasing to him. Then he realized that Ivanova was staring at him with a gaze that was capable of boring through to the other side of his skull, and he cleared his throat as he released Dr. Trent's hand.
He was momentarily at a loss for words, but Trent wasn't. He had a sneaking suspicion she never was. "We should get together for a few minutes now, discuss how we want to split up the work before things get crazy."