I really like writing Miral.
Enjoy, and review. Please?
Little Miral Torres blinked thoughtfully at the rather large mass in the waste extraction unit, her fingers securely clamping her nostrils shut as she did so. A loud, angry knock at the door followed by a barrage of Klingon went ignored by the small girl as she observed and inspected her work, the figurative gears in her young mind churning.
"MIRAL PARIS-TORRES, GET OUT HERE THIS INSTANT!"
Miral glanced at the door. Her mother was not happy.
"Miral! Sweet-heart, your mother has to go! She isn't going to make it."
Her father attempted a different approach. Miral contemplated a moment before pressing the unobtrusive blue button and vesting the bowl of its contents. Neglecting to wash her hands, she scurried quickly from the room, swiftly avoiding both of her parents and exiting their quarters.
A howl of relief could be heard in decks 9-15 as she made her way down the hall and into the turbolift and down to the bridge. She wasn't allowed on the bridge under normal circumstances, but this was an exceptional situation, and her Aunt Kathy was the only one who could help.
She was the Captain, after all, and nobody knew more than the Captain.
She arrived with a cheery beep and walked purposefully in front of a rather bemused Janeway.
"Miral. You know you're not supposed to be here."
"I know, Captain, but this is really important."
Miral was careful to emphasize the really, and smiled happily when Janeway relented, accepting the older woman's open arms and allowing herself to be hoisted into her lap. She snuggled up to the Captain, wrapping her arms around her and nestling her face against Janeway's shoulder.
Janeway pointedly ignored the highly amused glances from her officers, focusing her attention on the little Klingon instead. Miral was known for her volatile temper and would surely be an asset for revenge in the future, and it was for the best to get on her good side now despite the damage to her reputation. That, and she positively adored the little girl.
"What is it?" she asked, stroking the dark curls gently.
"Well, when stuff gets replicated, it comes from the stuff that got put back into the replicator before, right?"
Janeway raised a brow.
"Well, in the waste extraction unit, the poo gets eaten up by the same stuff that eats up the stuff you put back in the replicator, so the poo goes back into the stores where the stuff that you replicate comes from, right?"
A strangled sound came from her immediate left which she immediately met with a force ten death glare and a silent promise of impending torture. She was pleased to note that Harry Kim was currently swallowing at an inhuman rate, his skin turning a sickly shade of yellow beneath the layer of sweat that was forming, his mind filled with thoughts of the conception of Neelix's child in an attempt to staunch the laughter.
"…Yes, I suppose so."
Miral's eyes widened, her opaque pupils dilating in shock.
"So-so you mean we eat…POOP?"
Janeway pinched the bridge of her nose as Harry Kim lost it, keeling over on the bridge in peals of laughter. She patted Miral's head gently, shifting so that the little girl could climb off of her lap easily.
"Well…well, not exactly. It's hard to explain. How about you go over to Astrometrics right now and ask your Aunty Seven? Tell her the Captain gave you permission, and if she has any disputes about it to take it up with me in my quarters at 2100 hours tonight."
Miral contemplated that a moment.
"Good idea! The Borg know everything!"
Janeway grinned as she watched the girl skip happily back to the turbolift, leaning back into her chair.
"You handled that well, Grandma Janeway," said Chakotay, a huge grin splayed across his face.
The Captain turned her head slowly, eyeing her first officer keenly.
"You'll regret that in another 10 years."