“Main Sickbay,” said Natalia, stepping into the turbolift.

If there was one evaluation on the ship she was confident of passing, it was her medical. Her DH might have some questions about her barely passing grades, her psychological evaluation might find one or two issues to unpick in her character. But she’d always been the absolute picture of health. Growing up on the New Tyrol colony, she’d had a healthy childhood exposure to the usual gamut of infectious diseases, the odd scrape and tumble and broken bone that came with trying to keep up with a hypercompetitive old sister. But she’d never been seriously ill, never had to cause for visiting Academy medical facilities for anything more than a hangover cure, and could think of nothing that would imperil her chances of being cleared for duty. Yes, this Natalia Voss, prime physical specimen, ready to breeze through her –

Whack

Natalia did not, in fact, breeze through the bulkhead as she tried to exit the turbolift, slamming her forehead straight into, well, the spaceship. Rubbing the rapidly growing bruise on her forehead, she stumbled blindly into Main Sickbay ready to prove that she was medically fit for duty, or at least, would be, if she could just sit down for five minutes first?

~Voss