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STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION S02E16 | Q Who?

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Star Trek: Voyager Dreadnought

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STAR TREK: VOYAGER 5.23 “Relativity”

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Thanks/blame for this particular indulgence should probably go to @talshiargirlfriend and this story specifically. Of course if Enterprise didn't want me to change that Terra Prime ending, then they probably shouldn't have invented such a cute half-Vulcan to begin with!

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[hjea]

Gild

Change a single letter and change the word game

I want to play a game with you all.

You have to make a new word by changing only one letter of the last word.

Dirt

[hjea]

Oops, my hands slipped and I wrote a follow up to this one. (Still falls into missing scene territory is you like.)

Trip grumbled at Phlox on his way out of Sickbay more out of habit than any real reluctance to submit to treatment. He knew it was necessary; he just didn’t have time to think about that right now.  At least three people spoke to him in the corridor as he approached his quarters, but he couldn’t have told you who they were or what he said in response. 

As soon as he heard the reassuring click of his door closing behind him, Trip stripped off the hateful mining uniform and dropped it on the floor. He’d have preferred to set it on fire. Or cram it down Paxton’s throat. Or better yet, first one and then the other. Shaking those thoughts from his mind he picked up his pace. He had a sick baby to get back to. 

He showered quickly. Pain shot through his left arm when he reached up to scrub his hair, so one-handed it was. Just as well he hadn’t tried to pick the baby up earlier. The baby. His baby. He couldn’t quite get his head around that.  A whole little person made up of pieces of him and T’Pol. She was adorable, with her pointy little ears and bright blue eyes, and a pretty damn good impression of her mother’s Vulcan glare already. She was perfect. Seriously, what kind of insane maniac would-- he slapped the tiled wall of the shower and breathed in slowly through his nose. Nope, not thinking about that. She was here now, and they were going to take care of her.

Trip knew he wasn’t going back on duty anytime soon, but he dressed in uniform anyway. It was familiar. He had no idea how to be someone’s dad, but he knew how to be Commander Tucker. He was good at it. It sure seemed a whole lot safer to approach this crisis and whatever was coming next as Commanders Tucker and T’Pol, Starfleet’s Finest (and One Hell of a Team™) rather than Trip and T’Pol, Certified Hot Mess of a Couple. He snorted at that thought as he fastened his boots. 

He was halfway to the Mess Hall to grab a drink when he realized that facing the crowd there sounded like a special kind of hell and made a beeline for T’Pol’s quarters instead. Sure, he could ask someone to bring a tray down to Sickbay, but it felt disproportionately important that he handle it himself. He didn’t need Phlox’s five psychology degrees to understand that. 

Maybe coffee was a bust, but at least T’Pol had plenty of tea in her stash. The last time he’d woken up with her, Trip had joked that she was going to have to start keeping coffee as well - had that really only been a week ago? It felt much longer. Time flies when a madman creates a baby from your stolen DNA (and that of your off again-on again alien lover), and you have to thwart his evil plans. 

Trip took a moment to let the familiar scent of the meditation candles wash over him. He’d promised her a change of clothes… Purple. She looked commanding in purple. Regal. T’Pol would of course use whatever toiletries were available in the decon shower without complaint, as logic demanded, but she hated that stuff. He added her shampoo to the bag. 

Right. Tea. He set out a pair of small mugs and looked through the assortment of containers on the shelf. 

Chamomile for the lady. And for himself… Mint? No. He stared blankly at the options hoping for inspiration. Maybe she had some of that spiced Andorian blend left. He picked up an unfamiliar jar and lifted the lid. 

The heavenly aroma hit him instantly. 

Coffee.

The kind with a hint of nutmeg that he really liked. He didn’t even remember telling her that. 

Trip felt the sting of tears in his eyes and the back of his throat and swallowed against the sudden swell of emotion. She could be so sweet when she wasn’t driving him crazy. He knew she was just as terrified as he was, but she really was gonna be a great mom. 

Had he told her that before he left? Everything was a blur.  He pictured T’Pol, with her big worried eyes, holding that chubby baby and rocking her gently, and he felt something squeeze in his chest.

Maybe he’d tell her some other things while he was at it. 

And as for the other “her”… Well, what do you even call a half-Vulcan baby anyway? He considered as he slid the bag over his good arm and picked up the two steaming mugs. Other than sweetheart, he supposed. Or darlin’. Or daddy’s little girl. He grinned. Yeah, that’d do for now. 

[hjea]

TODA MARIKO and JOHN BLACKTHORNE SHŌGUN — 1x09: "Crimson Sky" (2024)

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I don't think I'll have time for either. You can't spend every second of your life studying that, whatever it's called. Kir'Shara.

Star Trek: Enterprise 4x10 - Daedalus

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a good old ask game resurrection, anyone? List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers

okay, let's go!

my d&d game! i've been dming an icewind dale campaign on and off for over a year now, and it's just such a fun group. @noblealice is our grizzled cleric with a secret squishy centre and she's so good at the rp (all my players are) that it brings such life and feeling to the campaign. they're also very forgiving when i have to do some dm vamping and quickly flip through the book looking for some obvious piece of information that i've still managed to forget. :D

my nephew! he is 17 months old and although i don't get to see him in-person super often, my sister is really good about us doing regular facetimes. he's just in such a fun goofy age and getting to experience the world alongside a toddler really is a reinvigorating experience.

my cat. she is so fluffy and so sucky and just a perfect roommate. everyone who meets her is amazed at how pretty and friendly she is and how genuinely she does want tummy rubs.

tea. i'm sure i drink too much of it, but i love it. there's probably yorkshire gold running through my veins by this point.

spring. specifically longer days and sunshine. normally its actually much more poignant after a very long dark cold canadian winter, but even after the worryingly mild one we just had, spring still comes as such a relief.

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T'POL - STAR TREK: ENTERPRISE S4E17 Bound

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Something about having an universal translator, and learning to understand without it

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“Your father is very physically affectionate.” There was a pause. “We will adapt.”

--

I JUST WANT TO WRAP THIS NASCENT LITTLE FAMILY IN GAUZE AND STOP ANYTHING BAD FROM HAPPENING. BECAUSE THEY WILL ADAPT. GIVEN THE TIME TO DO SO. THEY WILL ADAPT SO BEAUTIFULLY.

Ahem.

So this is pretty great. Read this. Right now. Do it.

*intense Janeway voice intensifies*

DO IT.

@hjea said we deserved more adorable half-Vulcan baby and that is 100% correct. So here’s what can be considered a missing scene or if you prefer you can say 🖕 to canon and consider it the opening of a fix-it.

Phlox had been notified of their imminent arrival, but nothing could have fully prepared him for the sight that greeted him as the doors to Sickbay parted. A pinched-face Commander T’Pol clutched an infant protectively to her chest as she strode in, flanked by Captain Archer and Commander Tucker. Commander Tucker had a hand on her back and concerned eyes focused on the baby’s profile. A brief look of pain flashed across his face indicating to Phlox that he may soon have two patients. Captain Archer wore his fight face. Behind them trailed a stricken Ensign Mayweather and a stoic Lieutenant Reed. All of them appeared dirty and dishevelled. 

The tiny girl stared at everything around her with wide blue eyes reminiscent of her father’s as she chewed one chubby fist. It brought to mind Sim as a baby, but of course there was no time to dwell on that now. The upswept brows and delicately pointed ears were all her mother, the doctor noted. 

“Well, what have we here?” Phlox greeted T’Pol when she stopped before him. He passed a handheld scanner in front of his young patient. 

“She is gravely ill, Doctor. Her immune system appears to be severely compromised,”  T’Pol informed him as she gently bounced the baby in her arms. It was somewhat less graceful than her usual movements in Phlox’s estimation, but he could nonetheless see the care in her touch. The baby gave a rattling cough as if to confirm her mother’s assessment. 

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask everyone who is not a patient - or the parent of a patient - to leave,” Phlox ordered as the scanner whirred. 

Lieutenant Reed nodded at T’Pol and Phlox, and then whispered something to Commander Tucker before giving him a supportive squeeze on his shoulder as he passed. The resulting grimace on the engineer‘s face confirmed Phlox's earlier suspicions about patient count.  Ensign Mayweather had evidently already had the good sense to slip out unnoticed.

 “You’ll inform me as soon as you know anything,” the captain confirmed as he briefly caught the doctor’s eye. “I’ll check on you all soon.” 

T’Pol gave no acknowledgement as she rubbed the baby’s back rhythmically to soothe her. 

“Take care, Trip,” Jonathan added with an encouraging smile. 

“Aye, Cap’n,” Trip responded with the ghost of a smile as he briefly tore his eyes away from T’Pol and their child. 

Phlox glanced down at the scanner in concern before he addressed the new parents. “She has a respiratory infection. We’ll start with some medication - a mild analgesic, antibiotic, and expectorant. I’d like to see that fever reduced quickly. Depending how she responds over the next hour we may move onto a more aggressive treatment for her lungs including placing her in an oxygen rich environment.” 

As he moved across to the cabinet to prepare the medication Phlox could hear the soft timbre of Commander Tucker’s voice. “She’s heavier than she looks. You want me to take her for a bit?”

“I’m fine,” T’Pol said softly. Trip must have looked ready to argue because she continued quickly, “you are injured, Trip. I will hold her… but perhaps you’d like to touch her or speak to her?” 

When Phlox returned he was loath to interrupt the scene before him. The two parents stood close with their heads canted toward each other. The baby had dropped her head against her mother’s chest and was drooling peacefully as her father stroked her hair and cheek and whispered quiet words of reassurance. In less fraught circumstances Phlox would have taken amusement in the sight of the normally impeccably groomed Vulcan with a patch of spittle spreading on her clothing. 

“I’ve got an injection ready,” he said as he approached the family. “This should ease her discomfort and allow her to sleep more soundly. I’ll also take a blood sample.”  

The child made an irritated squawk when the needle pierced her skin and she shifted her head to give Phlox the most dignified look of pouty-lipped disdain he’d ever seen on a baby. 

Apparently she would take after both her parents in temperament as well as appearance, Phlox thought wryly.

 “Shhh now, you’re all right, little one. I know it’s no fun getting jabbed, but the doc here is gonna help you feel a lot better.”

T’Pol turned pleading eyes toward the doctor as she gently rocked the baby. 

He would certainly do his best. 

“Commanders,” Phlox said gently as he prepared to analyse the blood of Enterprise's newest resident. “This will take some time. I won’t ask you to rest now, but it would be a good idea to refresh yourselves somewhat and get comfortable…” he trailed off as he nodded toward the chairs along the wall. 

Their reluctance to leave was palpable. Phlox could understand it well, but they would be better able to care for their newfound daughter if they first looked after their own needs. 

He glanced back to see the two commanders locked in an apparent staring contest. Before he could make a stronger appeal, Commander Tucker gave a faint sigh. 

“All right. You two go sit in one of Phlox’s comfy chairs.  I’m gonna go wash the moon dust off and grab a cup of coffee. When I get back I’m gonna bring you a change of clothes and a cup of tea, and you’re gonna take a break for ten minutes,” he informed T’Pol rather intensely.  Phlox expected Vulcan indignance, but instead she only nodded in response. That was interesting. 

Satisfied, Trip leaned down to gently stroke his daughter’s cheek. “I’ll be right back. You be good for your mama,” he whispered. T’Pol’s eyes widened slightly, and he gave her a faintly bewildered smile. “I know. It's surreal. But you’re her mom.”

“And you are her father,” she replied seriously. 

A bright grin spread over Trip’s face. “I am,” he said, wonder evident in his tone. His voice dropped back down,”You’re doing great, T’Pol.” He rubbed her arm. 

“Ok, Doc,” he said a bit louder. “Keep an eye on these Vulcan girls for me. I’ll be back in twenty minutes, tops.” He paused to kiss the sleepy infant on her head and the startled mother on her lips. 

Phlox politely averted his eyes and hid his grin as he focused on the screen at his workstation.  “Commander,” he called out as Trip reached the door. “I'm going to take a look at that shoulder when you get back.” At the dark muttering he heard in response, Phlox allowed himself a small smile before frowning at the data loading before him. 

The baby’s eyes were starting to drift closed, and he could hear T’Pol speaking quietly to her as she paced.

“Your father is very physically affectionate.” There was a pause. “We will adapt.”

“You still need a name,” T’Pol murmured to the child. “I have something in mind. We will discuss it with your father when he returns.”

[hjea]

STAR TREK: VOYAGER S5E6 Timeless → STAR TREK: PICARD S1E5 Stardust City Rag

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Hope, D'Argo. It's what keeps you going. You're gonna see your son. I'm gonna get home. Hope. I have hope - or I have nothing.

Celebrating 25 years of Farscape Day 5: What makes Farscape truly special  |  hope. and love. and puppets. and heartbreak. and hope.

Hexagonal layout by @rosamndpike, [insp: ☆ ★]

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What do normal people who haven't had half their personality shaped by the lord of the rings think about when they are scraping butter across bread?