#my friend got me a star trek captain's log forever ago

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

trying to figure out if im cursed or if the third time's the charm

[atamascolily]

After Ursula K. Le Guin died, I made an agreement with myself I would read anything and everything she'd written as the chance arose. That said, Searoad: Chronicles of Klatsand probably would have been the last on my list, had I not stumbled across a paperback copy in a library booksale (in pre-pandemic times) in a "fill a paper bag for $10" sale and it languished in my TBR pile for months before I finally got around to it.

The reason? Genre snobbery, in reverse of the usual direction. Searoad is a collection of short stories published in magazines like The New Yorker, and fancy-sounding publications with Review in their names. Serious publications publishing so-called "literary" fiction, or maybe "realistic fiction" or just plain fiction--fiction that's supposed to tell-it-like-it-is, lay bare the inadequacies of modern life, and leave you feeling empty and unfulfilled after watching empty and unfulfilled people make poor decisions in futile attempts to fill the emptiness and inadequacies of their lives. Because that’s the whole point of literature, right?

Oh. Perhaps I'm generalizing. But so it feels to me whenever I dip into one of these publications. They are "literature", everything else is "genre": romance, science-fiction, fantasy, action, adventure, thriller, mystery, crime. "Literary" fiction is usually just plain old "fiction" in the library classification systems and in common parlance: it is assumed to be the norm, the default, from which everything else is a deviation. And I hate this. I've always hated this.

To write about petty modern people with their petty modern lives is one thing--we all have our kinks--but to disdain others for imagining different things, for epics and grandeur and you-could-have-anything-so-why-not-go-for-it always struck me as a deep failure of, and disdain for, imagination. Genres, like so much else in our lives, are social constructs: us and them, the have and the have-nots. Literary fiction are the "haves", everything else is the "have-nots". That's changing, obviously, and the boundaries aren't as rigid as they once were, but I still see that divide reflected in so-called "serious" publications, and I generally avoid them.

Ursula K. Le Guin has always hugged the boundaries between "pure" genre (aka trashy, flashy, unfit for serious folk in the eyes of the pedants) and "literary merit". She's been accepted and respected by both camps, although the "literary" folks speak of the sci-fi rather patronizingly in their reviews of her works. Le Guin, however, never disdained the sci-fi labels in the same way that Margaret Atwood--another boundary-spanning writer--has always done.

For this reason, I've retained infinitely more respect for Le Guin than Atwood, despite Atwood's considerable talents as a writer. Atwood wants to play with sci-fi tropes, but she doesn't have the backbone to stand up and be proud of it. Atwood wants to write science fiction but not be judged for it, and the easiest way to do that (since genres are a social construct) is just to firmly insist that it's not sci-fi at all--move along, nothing to see here.

Here's a blurb on the back of my copy of Searoad by Carolyn Kizer, a Pulitzer-prize winning poet from the Pacific Northwest:

"For a number of years, the only science-fiction I read was that of Ursula K. Le Guin. I don't read science-fiction any more, thought I wouldn't think of missing a book of Le Guin's. She has transcended the genre..."

How very generous and open-minded of you to only read science-fiction so elevated it “transcends” its genre entirely, thereby becoming worthy of notice. And this is supposed to make me like literary fiction? 

That said, the irony is that Kizer’s statement sums up my approach to non-genre stuff as well, although I would not have phrased it quite so baldly. More like “Okay, not usually my cup of tea--but if it’s you, it’s okay....” The genre transcending thing, as much as I despise the phrasing, works both ways here.

All this is to say I finally read Searoad, even though I had to coax myself into it by pretending that this was an alien society that Le Guin and I were exploring together in order to tell us stuff about our own, and that helped. It also helped because the stories were so damn good, and I got carried away, even though they are very literary stories, with ambiguous endings, the usual focus on unexpressed and/or self-destructive emotions of love, birth, and death, and no magic or wizards or dragons whatsoever.

(To repeat: I am a genre snob who has never understood why writing without dragons was inherently better than writing with dragons in it. I have always operated under the principle that dragons made everything better. And I have never understood why depicting the world as it is was a stroke of literary genius, if all you were going to do with it it is show people being unhappy in the usual old ways instead of unusual ways. Or even imagine something new and different!)

Searoad reminds me of Lake Wobegon a little, but that's only because it's a small town, with characters from one story popping up in others in the most unexpected places--just like small town life. After a while, it feels like we're constantly running into old friends, a shared world--real, but in a good way. The stories were published across a wide range of outlets from 1987-1991, yet flow into each other astonishingly well when read in rapid succession, or indeed, in any order at all.

My favorite is "True Love," which is all about ditching unsatisfying conventional relationships to focus on one's true passion instead:

For me, sex is sublimation. Left to itself, in its raw, primitive state, my libido would have expend itself inexhaustibly in reading.

And since I have been a librarian ever since I was twenty, I can truly compare my life to that of some pasha luxuriating in his harem--and what a harem! Half a million mistresses, when I was at the Central Library in Portland! A decade-long orgy! And during the school year, since I teach now at the Library School, I have access to the University Library. Here in Klatsand where I spend the summers, the harem is very small and a good many of the houris are rather out of date, but then so am I. My lust has lessened somewhat with the years. Sometimes I imagine I could be contented with a mere shelf of tried, true, and highly selected Scheherazades, with only now and then a pretty little novel to flirt with, or a volume of new poetry to make me cry out with excess of pleasure in the heart of the night.

And in the same story, Le Guin makes it clear she's one of us:

"Do you like science fiction" I asked her, because all I can really talk about is books. And of course, she couldn't talk about books. That had been knocked out of her years ago. We compromised on "Star Trek," new and old. She liked the new series as well as the old one. I liked the old one better. Antal stared, not at Rosemarie, only at me. "You watch it?" he said. "You watch television?"

I didn't answer. ... I was not going to let him try to shame us for our commonness.

"The one I liked best was the one where Mr. Spock had to go home because he was in heat," I said to her.

"Except, he never, you know," she said. "They just had a fight over the girl, him and Captain Kirk, and then they left."

"That's his pride," I said, obscurely. I was thinking how Mr. Spock was never unbuttoned, never lolled, kept himself shadowy, unfulfilled, and so we loved him. And poor Captain Kirk, going from blonde to blonde, would never understand that he himself loved Mr. Spock truly, hopelessly, forever.

Reader, I LOLed. Because it's true. You know it, I know it, and so does Le Guin. And she had the guts to say so in the Indiana Review, and the editors published it. LEGEND.

Like all of Le Guin's writing, the stories in Searoad are lyrical, elegant, soaring, and moving--sympathetic, yet unafraid to call out bad behavior and terrible things when she sees it. My other favorite story, "Sleepwalkers," is a brilliant example of this: it starts with a complaint by a privileged male playwright about the housekeeper at his summer cabin, only for us to quickly learn (if his tone and phrasing didn't give it away) that he's an arrogant asshole who sees only what he wants to see and misses what's actually in front of him. We then pivot to a number of other people at the little resort, and their views of the housekeeper, and we're left with an open question at the end: which view is more accurate? Which story do we believe? What is actually going on? Can any of us really know or understand the hidden depths within another person? It's so deep and lush and well-written, and even funny on occasions.

And there's also a diversity of viewpoints and perspectives and scenarios enough to keep me interested: a lesbian grieves the death of her long-time partner, a war veteran deals with PTSD, a college student runs off into the woods to secretly map illegal old-growth logging stands, a ghost appears in a late-night diner to a sexual-abuse victim. The ghost thing seems like it ought to fall under genre conventions, but doesn’t because of the framing, and yet it still works for me--another example of Le Guin’s skill.

Anyway, so Le Guin actually made me enjoy so-called "literary" fiction and that was unexpected and delightful. Regardless of my feelings about most "realistic" fiction, I'm glad I read this collection.  

[ozcobblehot-archive]

i was tagged by @otto-von-stirlitz

RULES: answer all questions, add one question of your own and tag as many people as there are questions.

i dont think im going to tag 50+ people tbh @hollyknight @niwry @alan-of-all-trades @wannabegoodman @bunswithknives @teknon @soraeigarashi @enigmatic-wankery @lobobathory

1. coke or pepsi: coke

2. disney or dreamworks: both have good and bad movies, i think i like both equally tbh

3. coffee or tea: tea

4. books or movies: movies

5. windows or mac: windows

6. dc or marvel: as for now... image. but seriously? dc. yeah, i know, i’m surprised too.

7. xbox or playstation: pc

8. dragon age or mass effect: both and neither at the same time

9. night owl or early riser: hoot hoot

10. cards or chess: none

11. chocolate or vanilla: vanilla

12. vans or converse: converse

13. lavellan, trevelyan, cadash, or adaar: just not trevelyan and we’re good

14.  fluff or angst: both

15. beach or forest: forest

16.  dogs or cats: dogs

17.  clear skies or rain: clear skies

18.  cooking or eating out: eating out

19. Spicy food or mild food: somewhere in between

20. halloween/samhain or solstice/yule/christmas: halloween

21. would you rather forever be a little too cold or a little too hot: too cold

22.  if you could have a superpower, what would it be: shape shifting or telepathy

23.  animation or live action: both

24.  paragon or renegade: paragon with a slight hint of renegade

25. baths or showers: showers

26. team cap or team ironman: team black panther

27.  fantasy or sci-fi: fantasy

28. do you have three or four favourite quotes? if so what are they:

“i’ve got no reason to be afraid any more. i can be whoever i want to be. i can be whoever i am.” - inanna, the wicked + the divine “and we will be the stars we were meant to be” - helen cobb’s letter, captain marvel “there is a sadness in this world, for we are ignorant of many things. yes, we are ignorant of many beautiful things — things like the truth. so sadness, in our ignorance, is very real. the tears are real. what is this thing called a tear? there are even tiny ducts — tear ducts — to produce these tears should the sadness occur. then the day when the sadness comes — then we ask: "will this sadness which makes me cry — will this sadness that makes me cry my heart out — will it ever end?" the answer, of course, is yes. one day the sadness will end.” - log lady’s voiceover, twin peaks

29.  youtube or netflix: both have content i like

30.  harry potter or percy jackson: hp

31.  when do you feel accomplished: that is an excellent question

32.  star wars or star trek: star trek

33.  paperback books or hardback books: paperbacks

34. horror or rom-com: rom com

35.  to live in a world without literature or music: i’d rather not

36.  pastel colours or dark colours: pastel

37.  tv shows or movies: shows

38.  city or countryside: city

39.  if any other zodiac sign could describe you, what would it be: people always describe taurus as a foodie, and honestly? true.

40.  if you could only listen to one album for the rest of your life what would it be: “you could have it so much better” by franz ferdinand

41.  cinema or theatre: neither, actually

42.  if you could be any fictional character’s best friend, who’d you be: i’d love to befriend dionysus from wicdiv tbh

43.  smiling or smirking: smirking all the way

44.  are you an ‘all or nothing’ type or are you more consistent: all or nothing

45.  playlists or your whole library on shuffle: i’m picky about music i listen to

46. traveling or staying at home: staying home

47.  books or fanfiction: both

48.  If you could live in a fantasy world, what world would it be: thedas, here i come

49. your favorite cartoon: idk, i don’t really watch cartoons anymore

50.  name the weirdest five songs on your itunes, current or past: define “weird”

51. mountains or plains: plains

52. favorite anime (or tv show if you don’t watch anime): my favorite tv show is twin peaks. i stopped watching anime years ago.

53. which social media platform are you most like yourself on: tumblr, fb, sometimes instagram

54. What are some of your passions: the wicked + the divine and generally everything gillen touches, the elder scrolls, writing, my friends, oswald cobblepot, gay

55. What are some of your current goals in life?: pass the exams, meet my favorite writer irl, have a one night stand with idris elba (i still stand by my opinion he’s the most attractive person on earth)

56. A pet that you would like to have (or already have) that is NOT a cat or dog: a pet fox

57. Body modifications you would like to have: i want a tattoo and some cool piercings tbh

58: Describe the most bullshit fictional story you’ve ever read/watched/played:

[bonewalk-blog]

tag meme :D

I was tagged by @light-for-forever! And then totally failed to notice for days. Whoops.

Rules: Answer the questions and tag twenty blogs you’d like to get to know better.

Nicknames: I’ll answer to anything! I’ve answered to “Tijuana” in the past.

Time right now: 6:57 p.m.

Last thing I Googled: “Asrai.” As it turns out, it’s a water fairy from English folklore. (I’m doing research for a story.)

Fave music artist: Florence Welch is my life goals??? I mean, that range. Those lungs. The emotion in her delivery. Also her producer banned her from writing any more songs about water and she was like “how about I do anyway,” which…I would do. I would do that.

Song stuck in my head: …“Bring Me to Life” by Evanescence. I have no explanation or excuse.

Last movie I watched: Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939).

Last TV show I watched: Um. This…this one thing my dad was watching when I dropped into the room? It’s about a criminal informant, but I have no idea what the name is. I’ll ask him.

What I’m wearing now: The jeans with the knees I tore open a couple summers ago, and the T-shirt with the Pride and Prejudice quote on it (In vain have I struggled. It will not do. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you, all written inside Elizabeth’s silhouette).

When I created this blog: Back in January!

The kind of stuff I post: Mm, like…things that inspire me to write, for the most part? (Granted, almost everything does that.) Or just things that inspire me in general. This gets kind of weird at times, especially when I reblog those beautiful #aesthetic posts without explaining that what I’m really thinking when I see them is what lovely tracks blood would make in that snow.

…Or maybe that would make it weirder. I promise I’m a writer, not a psychopath.

Do I have other blogs: I’m Mod Mint over at @landofangstandhipsters, though because I’m lazy I haven’t logged in for like, ages. I’m sorry, guys! I promise I still love you.

Do I get asks regularly: I got an ask once! It was really sweet. Ah, memories.

Why did I choose my URL: AHaha okay so. I have this novel, right? Actually I have a lot of novels and none of them are finished yet, but I digress. So it’s called She Walks Among the Bones, and one of my friends tried to start a conversation about it, and forgot the name. To her credit, she came up with two key words, but she’s never living “Bonewalk” down.

Gender: Female! :D

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw.

Me: So I’ve been thinking. The wand chooses the wizard but the wizard chooses the House, right? Well, I know I’d fit in Ravenclaw, but Dumbledore said to do what’s right rather than what’s easy, and I want to be kind to other people and [emotional] what if I really belong in Hufflepuff?

My mother, a Hufflepuff: You’re a Ravenclaw.

Pokémon team: N/A! I do not play.

Fave color: Green! Followed by purple.

Average hours of sleep: Eight? Or six, depending on whether I remembered to go to bed at a reasonable hour.

Lucky number: 7

Favorite characters: Rose Lalonde and Terezi Pyrope (me @Homestuck: and after all this time, I’m still, into you); Rey (Star Wars); Captain Janeway (Star Trek); Inara Serra (Firefly); Weiss Schnee, Blake Belladonna, and Pyrrha Nikos (RWBY); Nita and Dairine Callahan and Kit Rodriguez (Young Wizards). Also, um, most of the ones I’ve created make the list.

Dream job: Writer! Failing that, singer/songwriter or instrumental composer, but I won’t fail that. I am, however, a woman of many interests.

Number of blankets I sleep with: Two plus sheet, usually, but my sheet is kind of…broken, at the moment. The hem is coming off; I keep getting tangled. So I sleep with two blankets and a sheet, but it’s always up in the air how many blankets I’ll wake up with.

I…so absolutely cannot think of twenty people to tag. Um. @thexoreo and @murphyonicfield, if you like? No pressure, though.

[dreamthinkimagine]

Oliver - Chapters 1 - 4

This was a fanfic that is not yet completed, but I started writing it years ago. Please note that in TOS, Kirk and his brother were OK with each other as far as I know.

WARNING: Death and Depression

Some scenery and dialogue are direct from or have been inspired by Star Trek: The Original Series. I do not own Star Trek the Original Series. The information on carbon fiber was found in an article on Google. NO COPYRIGHT INTENDED!!!

Chapter 1

"We have to get to the escape pod! It's in Engineering," she shouted.  They looked at the blood splattered on the floor, walls and ceiling. They stared at their friends and knew that soon they also would die, but not Oliver; Oliver would survive. "Robert!" she screamed as a Gorn pulled her into a long, dark hall.

"Giana!" He yelled as he pulled out his phaser, set to kill, with Oliver still on his shoulder.

           "Robert! No! Don’t worry about me! Save Oliver! Save-" Robert could hear her bones breaking as the Gorn murdered her. As much as it pained him, he started running again.

           They finally reached engineering, luckily unharmed. There was no one in there except for dead bodies. The whole room was destroyed; the Gorns had already been there. In fact, the only thing that was untouched was the matter-antimatter unit. If anything happened to that, the ship would be destroyed; it would even kill the Gorns.

He hoped that the escape pod Giana made was OK. Making his way over to the lock on the wall, he punched in the code: five-one-eight-two-zero-one-five.

           A door appeared on the wall at the activation of the code. It slowly opened, revealing an untouched escape pod; big enough for just one person. He flipped the switch by the pod's door and it slid open.

           Robert lowered Oliver inside, sat him up on the seat, buckled him in and punched in the coordination of the nearest planet. It was only discovered a few months ago, but the atmosphere was breathable and it was out of Gorn territory. Besides, he knew that since it was new, some starship had to be there, or at least close by. He looked at his son and whispered his goodbye.

           He pressed the activation button, closed the door and locked it. The floor beneath the escape pod opened and it fell down a tube that would lead the pod, and Oliver, into space.

           Robert heard a Gorn come in and turned around to face it. “Do your worst.”  He reached for his weapon, but it wasn’t there. It fell on his way to Engineering. The Gorn picked up large scraps of metal and threw them right at him. The impact was so great that Robert sailed through the air. When he realized where he would land, he smirked; the Gorns would be stopped. Revenge.

His body bashed into the matter-antimatter unit.  

Oliver was already gliding through space in his escape pod when The Exploration exploded.

***

           "Jim, you're going down to that planet!"

           "No, Bones. I'm fine," Jim said getting up. Bones gripped his shoulder and stopped him from walking away.

           "But you're not fine!" He pushed Jim back down. "Listen, Jim, Starfleet requires that if any crew member, even the Captain, is showing signs of distress or illness that are affecting his duties, he is subject to the ship's surgeon's prescription. And I prescribe a shore leave!"

           All Jim Kirk could do was stare at his Senior Medical Officer, Dr. Leonard "Bones" McCoy. His depression made all his skills needed to command a starship decrease in quality...a little…significantly...dangerously...

           He was fully aware of Starfleet Regulations, but that didn't mean he was willing to follow all of them. He was the Captain of the Enterprise; the most famous Starship in space. He had to take care of his crew and of his ship. He dropped his head, but slightly rose it again when he heard his Second-in-Command speak.

           "Captain," Spock began, "your distress, has, as you humans say, 'taken a toll on you'. I must agree with the doctor. Getting some rest is the logical solution. The planet is incredibly similar to your earth, so you may enjoy yourself, Captain."

           “Ya see? Even logic is on my side.” McCoy gently placed his hand on Jim's shoulder. "You need something to get your mind off things, and staying here isn't gonna help." Bones was right. And Jim knew it. He’d been feeling down since he had heard of the destruction of the Starship Exploration.

Jim had only one friend on that ship, and he was Sam's best friend, but since Kirk and his brother were very close, they often shared friends. His name was Robert Codmar and neither Spock nor McCoy knew about him. Kirk never told them; he hadn’t had a reason to. It never came up. Robert’s ship was one of the least, if not then the least known Starship in Starfleet even though it was on a twenty-year mission rather than the Enterprise's five. Over four hundred men were lost on that ship when the Gorns came into the picture. They invaded and destroyed it. All crewmen were killed in the explosion; all of the Gorns on the ship died too.

           Not a human soul was spared. This attack was what finally made the ship known; nothing like that had ever happened before.

           Between the few who knew about it, a rumor was started that said that there was a child on board. Jim, being one of the few, knew that that probably wasn't true since Starfleet had rules about children on starships, but just the idea of lost kids bothered Kirk all the same. He lowered his head once more.

           "Spock and I'll be there, Jim. It's not like you'll be alone. Besides, I could use a bit of a shore leave myself." Jim looked up.

           "You?" McCoy nodded. "Why?"        

"Why don't you take over my job and see for yourself," he responded. Jim had to smile at his answer, but it was a small and short-lived smile. Spock was watching with his usual emotionless expression. One could come to believe his face was frozen like that were he not able to raise his eyebrows.

           Then, when he saw that his Captain was staring at him, he raised his eyebrow. Spock's face made Jim smile again, but not as big as he normally would. And McCoy noticed this.

“Take a break and get better; or stay with your crew and ship and try to function,” said McCoy. Jim sighed and made up his mind; he did have priorities after all. He stood and walked over to the intercom on the wall and pushed the button.

           "Kirk to Engineering."

           "Engineering room, Scott here."

           "Scotty, meet Spock, Dr. McCoy and I in the Transporter Room. Three to beam down." McCoy smiled at Jim's decision, Spock was still expressionless. "Stay in orbit of the planet until told to do otherwise. When we beam down you have command of the Bridge until we come back; understood?"

           "Aye; understood, Sir. I'll meet ya there in fifteen minutes."

           "Good. Kirk out." He hung up. "I'll meet you in the Transporter Room," he said looking to Spock and McCoy. Then he left the Sickbay and headed for his quarters. Once he was gone, McCoy smiled and looked at Spock.

           “Well, what do you know? I finally got the last word.”

Chapter 2

           "Captain's log star date: four-one-three-two-point-five. My First Science and Chief Medical Officers and I are going on a medically ordered shore leave to a planet that seems to be like earth. Only plant life has been detected. Until my return, Chief Engineer Scott will oversee the Bridge. Kirk out." He stopped recording, left his quarters and started to make his way to the Transporter Room.

           On the way, he passed several crew members who gave him concerned looks. Kirk tried to ignore them. He knew that they knew he was upset, but didn't want to be pitied.

           When he passed Yeoman Rand, she placed her hand on his shoulder. He stared at her, then looked down to her hand and eventually dropped his head again. She placed her other hand on his chin and gently pushed his head up so she could look him in the eye.

           "It'll be OK, Captain." He gently pulled away and continued his walk towards the Transporter Room.

* * *

           Once the doors opened, Kirk walked into the Transporter Room. Bones and Spock were already there and Scotty was preparing to beam them down.

           "Captain, your communicator," said Bones.

           "Why?"

           "So you can't think about the ship while we're away." Jim sighed, but handed over his communicator. That was when he noticed McCoy was bringing his medical equipment.

           "Alright, Doctor, I gave you my communicator, what's your excuse?" Jim pointed at the strap around the doctor's shoulder.

           "In case somebody needs it."

           "And yours?" He asked Spock. "Why do you have your tricorder with you?"

           "Research, Captain." Sighing, Jim gave Spock permission to do his research.

           "Transporter ready, Sir," said Scotty. The three of them stepped up to the platform and prepared to be Transported. Why couldn’t we have taken the Galileo? McCoy thought to himself. Kirk nodded at Scotty.

           "Energize."

Chapter 3

           Suddenly, their molecules were separated, sent through space and they became three again on the planet’s surface. Kirk gaped at his new surroundings. There was green grass as far as the eye could see, a never-ending abundance of trees and plant life and even a waterfall that lead into a clean river that seemed to go on forever.

            Upon seeing this, he had completely forgotten about the Exploration, the Gorns, the child and Robert. He was in total awe...until his train of thought was broken.

           "Captain, why are you so amazed with this planet's surface? I have already told you it is similar to earth."

           "Never mind, Spock. Never mind." Kirk said as he smiled and began to walk. Spock held up his tricorder and started exploring. Kirk stopped and turned to face the half-Vulcan.

           "Why don't you come with me, Spock? You can still do your research."

           "If that is what you prefer, Captain."

           "Jim, Spock. We're on shore leave, call me Jim. And yes, that's what I want. I could use someone to talk to." Spock stepped forward towards Jim. "Wanna come with us, Bones?"

           "Nah. I've got my own things to do on shore leave, thanks. Just meet me here by the waterfall when you're done."

           "Alright, Bones. C'mon, Spock." Before they knew it, they were lost among the miles of plant life.

           "Fascinating," Spock said kneeling and holding up his tricorder to what appeared to be Poison Ivy. "It is an exact replica of your earth, even the molecular structure of the plants mirrors your planet's."

           "Spock! Get away from there!" Jim yelled seeing how close Spock was to the toxic leaves. "That's Poison Ivy!"

           "The exact reason why I am refraining from touching it, Jim. It would be illogical to do so as it would give me severe Dermatitis." Spock said as he followed his superior officer's order and stood.

           "Don't do that again. I thought I was supposed to relax on shore leave, not worry about my First Science Officer," Kirk joked. His depression was diminishing. Spock just stared at him with a raised eyebrow. When Jim noticed this, he asked, "Shall we continue?"

           "Indeed," they started walking once more.

           "You know, Spock. I think you and Bones were right. I think I needed this." They kept walking and Spock kept scanning different species of plants shortly followed by a 'Fascinating.' Jim smiled. He knew that, even though Spock would never admit it, that he was having a good time. Nothing could ruin their day on the second earth.

           Meanwhile, Bones was laying down on the grass with his hands folded behind his head.

           "Sure are beautiful," he said to himself. "Yep, Leonard, this is exactly what you needed. A nice, relaxing day looking at the clouds. Hey, a dog!" He said, as the cloud above him took the shape of a dog. "And there's a cowboy one! And that one's a-!"

           "Scott to Captain Kirk. Scott to Captain Kirk." The communicator spoke. McCoy picked up.

           "McCoy here. I have Jim's communicator. Is everything alright?"

           "No!" Scotty exclaimed. "Somethin's headn' for that planet!" On the ship, they were desperately trying to figure out what it was, but the Enterprise wouldn't let them.

           "Our technology!" Chekov shouted. "It is being affected by ze planet!" He had been drowned out by static on the communicator.

           "What is it?!" McCoy asked.

           "We don' know, Doctor! It's close enough to see it on the screen, but we can't get-!" Static. Silence. Lost reception.            

           "Scotty?!" McCoy called. He grabbed his med supplies from the ground, stood up and ran as fast as he could to find Jim and Spock.

Chapter 4

           Back in the forest, Spock held up his tricorder when he got a strange reading on it. "Captain,"

           "Jim, Spock," Kirk reminded.

           "Jim, I am getting a strange reading stating that there is something sailing at a great speed and will impact on this planet."

           "What is it, Spock?"

           "A-" his tricorder shut down. Spock tried to get it back on but couldn't. "It was something from another Starship. That was all I could make of it before the tricorder malfunctioned."

           "We gotta get Bones." Jim said and they started running. Spock pulled out his communicator.

           "Spock to Dr. McCoy. Come in Dr. McCoy."

           "Spock?! Where are you, you pointed eared hobgoblin?! Where's Jim?!"

           "There seems to be an object traveling towards the planet at great speed and will be making impact in a matter of minutes."

           "I know! Scotty called and told me. What is it?!"

           "I do not know, except for the fact that it is from another ship. My tricorder has malfunctioned. It would seem that technology cannot withstand this planet for long amounts of-"

           "What?! " Bones shouted into his communicator. He had lost reception with Spock.

           "Doctor?" Spock asked. Jim swept the communicator from his hands and shouted into it.

           "Kirk to McCoy! Bones?! Bones! Come in Bones!" No answer. They started to run back the way which they came. They ran faster with each passing minute, fighting the plant life while trying to avoid more poisonous plants. The sound of the waterfall began to get louder.

           "Spock?! Jim?!" McCoy yelled into the communicator as he ran. "Lost 'em!" He put the tiny radio away and kept running. The sound of the waterfall got softer.

           Kirk, Spock and McCoy kept running; until finally Kirk saw McCoy out of the corner of his eye.  "Bones!" McCoy turned and ran to Kirk and Spock.

           "Jim! Spock."

           "Doctor."

           "Are you two OK?" Bones asked.

           "We're fine. Are you?"

           "Yeah."

           "It is illogical to discuss current conditions when the object is in plain sight," Spock said as he looked up. There it was, an object flying down to the planet's surface. With the shape of a half-oval, it exhilarated as it got closer. It was faster than a shooting star, but smaller than a shuttlecraft. It was on fire.

           "Run!" McCoy screamed. They all took off running for dear life, except for Spock who still ran, but kept his cool.

           "It is illogical to -."

           "Shut up, you green blooded - AH!" McCoy screamed as he looked back at Spock, only to see the object getting bigger.

           "Fascinating." That's when Jim tripped and fell, his leg caught in a root and it twisted his ankle. Bones and Spock turned back to him.

           "Go! Keep running! That's an order!" Kirk yelled to them, but Bones and even Spock disobeyed his direct order. Spock ripped the root in half (Vulcans were three times stronger than humans) and Jim was freed. Spock and Bones grabbed one arm each and helped Jim waddle away as fast as they could. Jim turned his head and looked back.

           "GET DOWN!!!" He cried. Spock and Bones gently, but quickly placed him on the ground and laid down on either side of him. They buried their faces in their arms and their backs were facing up. Jim lifted his head up for a split second. "BRACE FOR IMPACT!!!" And covered his face again. It hit.