#starfleetofficial

(First part written by me, switch to sash will be denoted by subtle bolding.)

“Steve, we can’t do this.”

“Not with that attitude!” said Steve.

Linda looked at Bob and frowned. The concrete was scraping her knees and she had cracked a nail a few feet back. The cardboard box filled with packing peanuts that she and Bob, an accountant from the second floor she’d met once or twice, were carrying on their backs, was not very heavy but somehow heavier than you would imagine.

“Steve, I’m willing to do anything to improve teamwork,” said Harvard O’Princeton, who looked like he could feel each and every particle of dirt that was sticking to his Armani jacket. “But is this really necessary?”

“Teamwork requires hard work on the part of everyone! Teamwork isn’t just necessary- it’s essential.”

“Okay. Sure,” said Harvard. He turned to his assistant, who was on her hands and knees next to him, in pumps and a pencil skirt and pain. “Come on, let’s just get to the end of the parking lot. I’ve gotta pick up the kids from rich people school.”

Steve watched them go with a smile on his face. The sweet glow of teamwork crackled and swelled around him, like those illegal discount fireworks he’d bought on the fourth of July to appear more human. Human’s loved festivities, as Steve had learned in his three years occupying the body of one. Steve didn’t really care for celebrations. Steve didn’t really care for anything except teamwork. One could say that it sustained him. In fact, if one did say this it would be exactly true. Steve was an alien who thrived on good old collaboration and companionship. On his home planet, it was the only thing that kept his species alive. Steve was one of the very few who escaped from the fold to try and start life somewhere else.