Tumgik
#on vulcan we call it persistent :: about.
mylittleredgirl · 1 year
Text
dang it tumblr crashed before i could reblog it, but someone had a gifset of janeway and b’elanna having that sweet conversation at the end of ‘persistence of vision’ and honestly i love it so much when episodes end with janeway having a bonding moment with one of the junior officers, especially early on where there isn’t as much trauma on everybody’s shoulders.
like all captains have their own style and focus when it comes to command, and i think what janeway loves most about being a captain is mentoring and developing crew members, both as officers and as people. if she had a little backup (and if the existential horror of being the only starfleet captain in this half of the galaxy didn’t take up so much of her mental energy), having a ship full of first-chance and last-chance misfits would be her DREAM job, full stop. like with all the love in the world to tal celes, she was probably in the lowest percentile of academy graduates and janeway chose her on purpose! she loves this stuff!
in an alpha quadrant situation i think her ship would have a young crew with a lot of turnover on purpose, because she’d pick up the weirdest cadets and most adrift officers from the side of the road, and she’d help them find themselves. and without the constraints of being stuck on the same ship indefinitely, they’d grow into new roles on other starships (and probably some of them would grow out of the service and find excellence elsewhere, which would be a moment of growth for HER — starfleet isn’t for everybody!).
it would become a thing in starfleet. “oh, you’re one of janeway’s!” when their future captains recognize a creative and bold way of thinking (and a patchy service record before voyager for some of them).
and you’d also get a few officers who decide they want to stay on board and help support that culture of growth. tuvok, obviously, stays with his bestie (and he enjoyed teaching at the academy, and his struggles as a young vulcan in starfleet gives him an interest in helping non-human officers find their way). i’m also thinking about b’elanna. i love the little moments of her mentoring kajal the hologram engineer in “flesh and blood,” and it’s sad that we never get to see her mentoring her own staff on the ship. i think in another circumstance she could really enjoy teaching new engineers, especially the “troubled” students, passing on her experience and giving them some room to discover their own way of doing things.
(picturing the three of them having coffee and janeway like “the academy commandant called and said they have some live ones this year…” and b’elanna like “yessss my favorite kind” and tuvok gives a long suffering vulcan sigh and draws up an orientation plan so clear that MAYBE this year there will be no incidents.)
and yeah i should probably watch prodigy.
121 notes · View notes
usafphantom2 · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
10 things that sucked about the F-8 Crusader
Hush KitMay 9, 2012
July 12, 2024
Fast and agile, with a decent range, the Crusader carrier fighter enjoys a positive reputation as ‘The Last Gunfighter’. It has been described as.“..by far one of the greatest fighters of its era”; we even rated it the second-best fighter of 1969. This sleek Cold War aircraft even boasts the best kill-to-loss ratio of any US fighter aircraft in Vietnam. But, as we shall see, a great deal was wrong with the F-8. And there wasn’t a long wait to find this out, the first production F8U-1 was also the first to be lost, killing pilot Harry Brackett; a truly shocking number of incidents, many fatal, would follow. By the time the Crusader retired, there had been call to use the ejection seat over 500 times, the first in 1956 (a year before the type entered service) and the last in 1997 (in French service). Here are 10 things that sucked about the F-8 Crusader.
10. Missiles
Tumblr media
The F-8 could carry a maximum of four air-to-air missiles, half that of the F-4 Phantom II. Even carrying four AIM-9 Sidewinder air-to-air missiles, proved draggy and made it harder for the Crusader to reach minimum landing weight if the weapons were not used. Because of this, the F-8 most often went to war with only two missiles. This lack of missile persistence was a big deal, as the gun installation was terrible and the probability of kill of 1960s missiles was terrible.
Another reason for an often smaller weapon load was a shortage of AIM-9s, particularly in 1966 (and of AIM-9Ds in 1968). Each variant of the Sidewinder used by the Crusader in Vietnam had its own limitations: the B was relatively slow, bad at turning with a small warhead; the radar-guided C was withdrawn before being used combat due to maintenance problems; and the generally superior D had less reliable fuzing than the B.
Tumblr media
9. Bang bang bad
Though famed as the ‘Last Gunfighter’, all but one of the F-8’s kills were with missiles. This was because of the many problems with the F-8’s gun installation. A major issue was the Colt Mk 12 cannon hated being fired above a rather conservative 3.5G (the M61 Vulcan use by other US fighters was rated up to 7.33G).
Tumblr media
The guns’ rate of fire was unpredictable, sometimes even zero, and they suffered from pneumatic charging issues and ‘barrel whip’, which caused inaccurate fire. Up to 1966, the guns jammed in three out of eight engagements.
8. Engine
Tumblr media
There are plenty of reasons you want a quick-responding engine in a carrier aircraft, as a delay can cost you your life. The two-second afterburner delay in early versions caused a lot of heartbreak; when pilot Tom Irwin tried to land his F-8C in 1965 it caught the fourth wire, but his arrestor hook point sheared from the shank, causing his aircraft to keep rolling rather than stopping on the deck. His only chance was to take off again, but his burner was too slow in response to get him to a safe minimum speed of 80 knots. Too slow to even eject, he flew into the sea, whereupon his afterburner ignited, causing the engine to explode. Miraculously he escaped his aircraft, manually, in record time and survived. In similar circumstances, four out of five pilots were killed.
7. Rockets
Tumblr media
Early Crusaders carried internal rocket packs, that were opened before firing. To minimise frontal cross-section the magazines of sixteen rockets were mounted one behind the other. If one rocket failed to leave the launcher, it could be hit by a round from behind with potentially catastrophic consequences. If a round failed to clear the launcher it could mean the launcher could not retract, the extended launcher blocked the nose gear door making it impossible to extend the nose gear. If when the rockets did fire, they were comically inaccurate, “One study indicated that 128 rockets, four Crusaders’ worth, would have to be expended on one bomber for a 97% probability that it would be hit at least once.1”.
Tumblr media
5. Inferiority to the F-4
Tumblr media
In the first training dogfight sortie, an F-8 pilot would employ the type’s superior instantaneous turning performance to better the F-4, but a mere five engagements later, the F-4 pilots would learn how to use their superior power to better the F-8; a well-trained F-4 pilot could best the F-8. This is extremely significant as one of the few trump cards the F-8 has against the F-4 is its superior agility. The F-4 enjoys two to four times the missile load, over twice the bombload, superior situational awareness, superior radar, climb rate and critically, was far safer to operate from a carrier.
(Those accusing this of being an apples-to-oranges comparison should look at the role and real-world taskings, not the weight class).
4. Bad situational awareness
Tumblr media
Pilot George Wright noted in his description of a one-way mission in the Crusader, “The F-8’s cockpit visibility wasn’t the greatest, so you always raised your seat as much as you could. But you didn’t want it so high that you would have trouble grabbing the two yellow-and-black-striped handles above your helmet, the handles that fired your ejection seat.” He also singled out the absence of a HUD in the F-8H as a dangerous omission that contributed to his failure to pull out soon enough from a strafing run. So the view out was poor, there was no HUD, and as the type had been created as day-only fighter, its radar was barely useful. The first radar was little more than a gun ranger, but even improved later radars were poor, the AN/APQ-83 was better but one of the first cadre of Top Gun Instructors Jim Alderink considered this ‘a piece of garbage’. The F-8 relied on guidance from an air and ground controller; the radar’s detection range for the MiG-17 was dangerously small. Conceived as a day-only fighter…
Tumblr media
Credit US Navy via https://www.cybermodeler.com/
3. Juliet blues, the F-8J
The initial J variant attempted to solve many of the shortcomings of the Crusader but in doing so added 2,000Ibs of weight and a 1,000Ib of power lost to boundary layer control. There were also wing cracks and a lack of spares. The result was a dangerously underpowered machine with inferior manoeuvrability and greater maintenance requirements, requiring expensive remedies – and happening in a major war just when fighters were most needed.
2. Out-turned by the MiG-17
As it could with every other US fighter, the veteran MiG-17 could outturn the Crusader at 300-350 Knots Indicated Airspeed (KIAS). It was superior training and missiles that enabled the Crusader to better the MiG-17. In fighting the MiG-21 in Vietnam, the Crusader did not have a distinct performance advantage. The MiG-21 had superior acceleration above Mach 1.1, and superior instantaneous G below 400 KIAS
Vietnam
That it took part in the horror of the Vietnam War itself sucks. But we shall not dwell on the many horrors inflicted by air power in the war, but instead, look at the Crusader’s survivability. A total of 118 total were lost, 57 in combat.
(*some sources put this as 170 in total)
1. Dangerous as hell!
The primary requirement of an aircraft is to keep the crew safe, and on this most important quality, the Crusader cannot be judged in a rosy light. This was perhaps not surprising as was just one in a line of ‘hot’ aircraft created by Vought. Their best, the famous Corsair of World War II, had nastier handling than the Hellcat, and the jet-powered Cutlass was a disaster. The Crusader’s safety record, even for the notoriously dangerous class of late 1950s carrier aircraft was abysmal. Professor Michael Weaver notes, “In 1966.. F-8s suffered an accident rate of 3.26 per 10,000 flying hours. Only the A-4E Skyhawk approached that rate, and the rate for the F-4 was only 2.72.”
The Crusader was a handful, and this was painfully apparent when it came to landing, a terrible quality in a carrier aircraft. There is an entire page devoted to Crusader crashes here.
“By the time the Crusader retired, pilots had made 493 ejections from all models of the F-8. Overall, 517 of the 1261 Crusaders had been built had been lost, a loss rate of 41 per cent” Peter Mersky notes. Considering the number of aircraft built, 737 entries in the Aviation Safety Network database is clearly atrocious.
According to Peter E. Davies, “Four carrier-bourne evaluation cruises showed that Crusader was hard to keep on “speed’ for carrier landings. Without the angled deck and mirror landing and mirrored landing system added to World War II-vintage SCB-27C Essex- and Midway-class carriers, the aircraft might never have reached the required safety standards.”
The high approach speed of 147 knots was a big issue on smaller carriers such as the Essex-class. Consistent speed was also important. To help, an autothrottle (Approach Power Compensator) was added in 1964, but even this caused problems as over-reliance on the APC was equally dangerous. Another peculiarity of the F-8 was its odd relationship between nose attitude and sink rate caused by its oddest design feature, on landing the wing stayed at the same angle of attack as the fuselage tilted (the wing was mounted on mechanism). Things were particularly counter-intuitive for the pilot in the final approach stages, which again required attention.
The Crusader, fine in many ways, sucked unforgivably badly in some of the most significant categories.
Sources
This site takes a lot of time and effort, if you think I deserve something back for this work then please hit the buttons on this page. Every donation is gratefully received.
F-8 Crusader, Vietnam 1963-1973, Peter E Davies
An Examination of the F-8 Crusader through Archival Sources – Professor Michael Weaver
USN F-8 training manual
https://thanlont.blogspot.com/2013/03/a-brief-history-of-f8u-crusader-armament.html
1 https://thanlont.blogspot.com/2008/12/missed-it-by-that-much-ii.html
Vought F-8 Crusader Peter Mersky
18 notes · View notes
android-and-ale · 6 months
Text
Historian's Perspective on Vulcan Time Zones
This was supposed to be a quick response to something on a Discord. As you can see it turned into 750 words on the history of Earth time measurement, time zones, and my opinion of how and why Vulcans would use time zones. If you're into Vulcan vs Human cultural minutia, enjoy diving down this rabbit hole with me!
Tumblr media
Vulcans, with their canon innate sense of time, would in fact still have time zones - but they wouldn’t use them the way we do today.
Here on Earth, time zones were a secondary effect of trains. Before trains, people had a lot of different means of telling time, but they mostly revolved around dawn and dusk. You can still see that today in Jewish and Muslim timekeeping. We’re in the month of Ramadan right now. Fasting is from LOCAL dawn to local dusk, not the time of those events in Mecca. Shabbat starts at local dusk on Friday night. The whole idea of tying human time to precise minutes would be nonsensical for pretty much everyone living before the industrial revolution.
Hours also used to be variable in length, based around good old dawn and dusk. So for the Romans the “first hour” was literally the first hour after dawn. They divided the daylight into 12 hours (because Sumerian math is persistent AF). During summer, one “hour” was about 75 modern minutes long, while during winter, one hour was 45 minutes long. An hour was a division of daylight, not a collection of minutes.
Up until the industrial revolution this was fine. If you needed precise timing for a chemical reaction there were surprisingly accurate measuring devices, but those weren’t applied to everyday life. 
Christian church bells and Muslim Adhan calls to prayer followed the dawn to dusk modified hour system to let people know what time it was. In Christian literature, you find a ton of references to different churches hourly bells tolling for a solid 3-5 minutes back to back. 
It was part of the rhythm of the day. Many church clocks didn’t even have minute hands, because yo didn’t need them. In daily life, you honestly didn’t need to know anything more precise than “half” or maybe “quarter” past a specific hour.
Time zones as we know them were literally invented by train companies. It was the only way to ensure the trains ran on time. You can find tons of contemporary writing about how “two of the clock” could mean damn near anything. If you’re trying to get meat butchered this morning in Chicago to New York city on quickly melting slabs of ice so it’ll arrive in time to be taken to shops and sold before it spoils, you really need your trains to run on a dependable schedule. 
So I say:
1) Vulcans would have time zones because they are the most logical means of scheduling long distance transportation and distribution. 
2) Local time has little to do with time zones. Vulcans in canon have an innate sense of time in a way we humans do not, so really, the point of time zones is just ensuring transportation and distribution networks are efficient.
3) Nimoy infused a lot of Judaism into the lore of Vulcans. As such I think their innate time sense would also be tied to a dawn-to-dusk schedule. (The modern idea of starting a new “day” in the middle of a late night sleep cycle is very weird and totally ahistorical.)  Therefore Local time is still linked to dawn and dusk. It’s also useful to know what time dawn and dusk are for people halfway around the world. That way you can efficiently schedule meetings with them at mutually convenient times. Once more, we come back to time zones. 
If you want a real world example of how No Time Zones fucks you up, look at China. There is officially One Time Zone in all of China, even though geographically it would be cut into 9 if you followed the same lines everyone else uses. That means a normal meeting at 10 am for someone in Bejing is at what we would consider 1 am at the furthest point west. But 1 am is legally “10 am” for them. If you don’t have to deal with Bejing on the regular, then the clock numbers have zero correlation with the way people in those places actually live their lives. 
I suspect what a lot of people really object to is daylight savings time. 
Vulcans who use local dawn and dusk to define their days would find this equally nonsensical. 
Now if you want to get weird with it, you could make all VSA starships use ShiKhar Central Time, regardless of where the crew is from. 
17 notes · View notes
ncc-101017 · 2 months
Text
Personal Log
Star Date: 75010.2
I return to duty after three months of intensive integration and recovery on Trill at the Symbyosis Commitee Campus.
Well, one month tense negotiation and interrogation followed by two months of intensive recovery.
Sonan's death was--still is unthinkable. However it was no question that in that moment I would accept Baz, the symbiont. To turn him away would be to turn away Sonan and seven other souls. To not accept would be against everything I worked for as a qualified Host. To protect them in times of crisis is an honor, even if temporarily. Re-association would not be tolerated long term. I knew this.
I did not know that Baz was not onboard with 'temporary'. The first feeling I remember was relief. Not quite mine, not quite not-mine. Then an overwhelming rush of resolution. I knew then that Penn Te'are was gone. That my name was Penn Baz. My husband and former host Sonan Baz was dead.
And this was not going to go over well.
To their credit, The Symbiosis Commission was only doing their job. They were persistent that I should relinquish Baz. It was not too late by medical standards. And, truth be told, I might have agreed, if it wasn't for the insistence of Baz bubbling within me that this was what was wanted. After a month of tense negotiations, the committee was forced to agree. A representative of Starfleet was called to perform a mind meld with the symbiont. It expressed that this experience was highly prized for this individual symbiont, irrelevant of the hosts. While I'm not sure yet if I myself completely agree, I accept this honor and adventure. Even if it complicates my grief...
After some integrations and orientation, I was deemed fit to return to duty. I was not to return to The Valentine and reassigned to The Hardaway with orders pending. 820 personnell, heavy weaponry and regenerative hull, I'm pretty sure we aren't about do be doing milk runs. Suits me fine. You don't become Starfleet for the mundane.
The crew is definitely an interesting mix.
The only one I've been able to meet personally thus far is my 'Number One'. Commander Orlal Oronat had been kind enough to provide me with a detailed report regarding my senior staff. She seems most adept at maintaining morale onboard. She has also populated my calendar with crew events and organizations. Goodness. For a ship with no family support, it seems that we do not lose the ability to care for our crew.
Captain Kovek. Helmsman. I'll say I'm shocked. The Vulcan who performed our mind meld doesn't captain his own vessel; He is flying mine? Not a coincidence clearly, but I'll leave it. His service record is nigh legendary. Replimat talk is that he outstripped a Vesta in a Galaxy class. Let them "observe" me, I look forward to seeing his performance.
Let's see, Chief Engineer. LT. Commander D'yan Jrooi. He's just completed a fellowship the Daystrom institute hosted by Temporal Affairs. I'll admit to being curiously disturbed. Something about Daystrom and time evokes the sound of the Prime Directive shattering. I'll keep an open mind, I imagine that a Sikaran is more interested in automation than auto distruct.
Lt. Commander Niri. Oh..a Tamarian. A freshly minted Chief Science Officer. Exolinguistics specialty. It seems she's working on a Standard Tamarian for Terrans as a part of her continuing studies. Per her status update the project is "Mother-in-Law, her visit extended". I guess that means "a nightmare".
Dr. Fuya has recently taken over the position of Chief Medical officer. He's by all accounts an exceptionally well loved man. Glowing recommendations from the Kais overseeing the orphanages on Bajor and commendations from Starfleet medical for courage under fire. There's some mention here of ruffled feathers due to the current organization overhaul in Sickbay. It seems the doctors impeccable bedside manner may be reserved for the patients.
Let's see, and to round it all out my Tactical Officer, Commander Sivalaa Maata has recently returned to ship duty after completing an intensive security training detail with former KDF and Ex-Borg Personnel. Her file also shows various leaves and assignments to all corners of known space. Though I'm seeing a conspicuous absence of Orion or her larger colonies in that list.
All told, it appears we are well suited to handle whatever Starfleet wants to throw us into. We've got one more night in space dock before receiving our orders and it seems that everything is running smoothly. I'll spend some time unpacking before I make my rounds and get familiarized with the faces.
Sonan, I'm not so sure that we should be doing this. I really hope this isn't a giant mistake. Of course, if it is a giant mistake, at least it's a historic one. Who doesn't like making history?
Right....big smiles everyone in there. Here we go.
2 notes · View notes
Text
Against All Odds
Part 115
McCoy
He walked up the hall to Scotty and Robbie’s room and knocked. McCoy waited before knocking again.
“Scotty?” he called softly.
No answer from inside made him frown. He stepped back and walked down to his own room to retrieve his PADD.
*Hey, where are you?*
McCoy tried to shake off the feeling he was having, but it persisted. Something felt wrong and he didn’t know why. He left the room, carrying the PADD with him.
Where would Scotty have gone? McCoy looked up and down the hall. He wasn’t quite sure which room belonged to Jim. Maybe Scotty was just hanging out with Jim in his room. McCoy sighed. Somehow he knew that wasn’t where Scotty was.
He made his way back downstairs. Scotty had been working with Keenser and Jaylah, maybe he had decided to look something up before heading back to them. He turned towards the library.
There he was! McCoy let out a breath of relief.
“Scotty!”
The other boy turned to look at McCoy and he saw the fear in Scotty’s eyes.
“What’s wrong?” McCoy asked, hurrying to his side.
Scotty shook his head.
“What’s wrong?” McCoy asked again. “What happened?” He closed the distance between them and put his arm around Scotty.
“Khan,” Scotty managed to whisper.
Khan? What had the boy done now? McCoy frowned again.
“What happened?”
Scotty shook his head again.
“Ok,” McCoy said. “Come on. We’ll go somewhere private.”
McCoy took Scotty’s arm and pulled him along back towards the stairs. They didn’t speak and when they got close to McCoy’s room, Scotty seemed to realize where he was being led. McCoy opened the door and pushed Scotty gently in before himself. He locked the door behind them.
“Spock…?” Scotty said.
“He’ll leave us alone. And he’ll knock first if he comes back. Now what happened? Why do you look so scared?”
Scotty let out a shuddering sigh and McCoy saw his eyes begin to glisten with tears.
“Khan knows I talked. And he found out it was ye with me. I said we just hadn’t wanted to be seen because of Archer, but then he threatened Robbie.”
McCoy watched as the first tears fell from Scotty’s eyes and pulled him close to sit down on the bed with him.
“He said if I told anyone…” Scotty choked on the rest of the words.
McCoy held Scotty tight, though his own heart was beginning to pound in his chest.
“We won’t let anything happen to Robbie,” McCoy whispered in Scotty’s ear. He ran his hand up the side of Scotty’s face and around to the back of his head. “I’ll ask Spock to keep an eye on Robbie.”
“Khan is an Augment,” Scotty whispered miserably.
“Spock is a Vulcan,” McCoy said back. “It’s something at least.”
Scotty gave a slight nod. McCoy shifted himself on the bed and pulled Scotty back to lie down.
“It’ll be alright,” he soothed, running his hand through Scotty’s hair. “Everything will be fine.” He kissed Scotty on the forehead. “We’ll make it all work.”
He pressed another kiss on Scotty’s cheek, then used his thumb to wipe his tears away.
“Love you,” he whispered, and kissed him again.
Part 116
Scotty
Leonard took him to his room and started to soothe him gently, but he didn’t know what to feel. On the one hand he felt so safe at the boy’s side, but on the other he was still scared.
Khan had threatened to kill his brother. And Scotty believed him. He doubted that the Augment was bluffing.
He thought about Leonard’s offer to talk to Spock. What if Khan would notice? What if it would make everything worse?
When Leonard whispered that he loved him, Scotty was still choking on his tears. He wanted to answer but no words came out. So instead he just nodded before burying his face in the prince’s chest.
Leonard pulled him even closer and ran a hand through his hair.
“Shh, it’s gonna be okay. We won’t give him any chance or reason to hurt Robbie.”
He had to stay away from Khan. Scotty had to let the boy do what he wanted to do. He couldn’t risk to provoke him any more.
The Scotsman nodded once again.
“I… love ye,” he finally got out.
And suddenly there was a knock on the door. Scotty was startled by it.
“Sir, are you all right?”
It was Spock’s voice. Scotty looked up at Leonard who sat up straight in his bed.
“Can I…” the boy asked carefully and Scotty nodded. He wiped away his tears while Leonard walked over to the door and unlocked it.
“Why would you lock-“ Spock stopped himself when he saw Scotty sitting on the bed.
There was a blush on the Vulcan’s face. Scott didn’t even know a Vulcan was able to blush.
“I am sorry. Am I interrupting you?”
Scotty thought about the question for a moment before it hit him.
The prince and him had shared a bed. The door had been locked. It must look like they had been about to… do something.
Leonard quickly shook his head, a pinkish color rising to his cheeks.
“Wha- no! No, it’s… it’s not like that. Come in.”
He quickly pulled Spock fully into the room before he locked the door again.
“Scotty… am I correct assuming you were crying?”
The Scotsman swallowed before he nodded.
“May I ask what has happened?”
Scotty glanced at Leonard who came back and sat down next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.
Apparently Spock seemed to know something was going on between them.
“Spock… can you keep a secret?”
3 notes · View notes
thethem · 3 years
Text
Did someone order a sick first officer? 😇
33%
A persistent virus was floating around the Enterprise and 33% of the crew were knocked out with something comparable to the common cold but with stronger symptoms. Every department of the ship was understaffed, even the bridge. The captain himself was confined to his bed so the first officer took command.
Although the Vulcan was sure he couldn’t catch this pathogen, he begun to feel a bit uncomfortable during alpha shift. Normally his duty was over three hours ago but Mr. Sulu left the bridge with a high fever. Luckily it was a calm day. Nevertheless Spock had to stay another twelve hours.
During beta shift only he, Ensign Chekov and two technicians were at the bridge. The other crewmembers had on-call duty. It was almost one in the morning when Spock felt worse. He was definitely suffering from a fever – the temperature on board seemed to be lower than before but of course that could not be.
Around two a.m. his sore throat made it difficult to swallow and his muscles started to ache. He had tried to ignore his scratchy lungs and itchy nose but it got harder any minute.
At four a.m. it was impossible for him to suppress the symptoms any more. The whole bridge was quiet expect of some devices beeping regularly.
The first officer pinched his nose between index and thump when the urge to sneeze overwhelmed him. The fit was perfectly stifled and yet seemed to be loud in the silence.
“Hngxt! K’ngxt! Ngxt! Hkngx!”
While Spock was still sneezing, Chekov turned around and watched him. The fit ended with a brief cough.
“Are you alright, Sir?”
“I’m fit enough to… He’kishh!” A sudden sneeze surprised Spock and he barely managed to cover it with his sleeve.
“Bless you, Sir. You do not sound very vell.”
A wave of dizziness hit Spock. He closed his eyes and took some deep breaths to get over it but the changed breathing triggered another violent sneezing fit. He cupped his hands over mouth and nose, head turned aside.
“Heh..Eh’kechoo! Hih…K’Isshh! Hishh’ISHH! Hek’KISHOO! Hee… Ehh… HEH’KISHHSHOO!”
Meanwhile Chekov was on his feet and standing in front of Spock.
“Sir, I think it vould be better for you to go to your room.” The boy said a little insecure.
“I understand your concern, Mr. Chekov, but I fear I can not go. We need someone to command the bridge and until Captain Kirk and Mr. Sulu…” Spocks hoarse voice broke and he was interrupted by hacking coughs.
“I… I can do zat! Really! Nothing happened the vhole day!” Chekov announced confident.
Spock felt like he was about to loose the control over his body. He was sweating and shivering at the same time and it was getting harder to concentrate. It would be most logical to return to his quarters and take some rest to be recovered (even a bit) in case of an emergency. It took all the power he had left to exit the bridge without another sign of weakness.
“Mr. Chekov, you have the conn.”
26 notes · View notes
haileyyanneupton · 4 years
Text
under the stars (just you and i)   🌌
pairings:
hailey upton x jay halstead 
prompted by tumblr post by @snowwhite013​ and post by @upstellaride (on twitter)
| masterlist |
Tumblr media
Chicago was chaotic by nature. The Intelligence unit had been completely and utterly slammed for months now. With increased gang activity not only in the 21st District but all over the city, everybody was being stretched to their absolute limits in every way possible. Jay and Hailey — whose romance had been placed on the backburner when the surge began — were no exception to this; they were both equally as overworked and exhausted as one other. Their apparent inability to pass up a case was costing them not just their precious beauty sleep, but quality time to spend together as a couple, leaving them both frustrated every time the phone rang. 
“You and me, Bartoli’s.” Hailey glanced up from the paperwork in her hand at the sound of her boyfriend’s voice. He was sitting across from her on his side of the desk that had slowly but surely become their communal desk over the years, his feet up on the edge of the surface as he stared at the blonde haired woman, awaiting a response. “When?”  The question was simple, but it was one that hung in the air for longer than either of them would have liked. It was a simple question that in theory required a simple answer, but with the unpredictability of work as of late, both Jay and Hailey were unwilling to offer up a time or day without proper thought being put into it. “What about after shift tonight?” Jay offered, hesitation evident in his voice as Hailey’s eyes flickered to the rest of the unit — it was relatively empty. At least, the emptiest it had been in a while. “It’s been kind of mellow today, right? I mean, the fact that we have time to be here doing paperwork is usually a good sign.” “Tonight. After shift. . .” Hailey considered it for a moment, humming lightly to herself in thought. “Sure. Tonight after shift sounds good.” Jay couldn’t help but grin as he hid his face in his coffee — caffeine was the only thing keeping him going at this point — he had been dying for a night out with his girl. It had been far too long since the two of them had been able to just talk, and his Hailey withdrawal symptoms were coming in fast and hard with no place to go. Sure, they worked together every day — but with how spread out the Intelligence unit had been, they were lucky if they even got to say hello to each other. All of these reasons put together were contributing factors to his particularly pissy mood when Voight made his way back upstairs and informed everybody that they wouldn’t be going home until they could pull up a lead on the drug-bust-turned-triple-homicide they were working out in Jefferson Park. “Guess this means we’re cancelling. Again.” Hailey sighed deeply as she stood beside Jay, the pair of them watching as Kim placed the victims photos up on the board. “This is what — the fourth time now?”
“It’s not my fault, Hailey,” Jay mumbled under his breath. “Don’t blame me. Blame the guy who shot three people for his fix.” Hailey’s eyes snapped over to him, the blue of her irises darkening as she made it very obvious she wasn’t about to put up with his bullshit for another long night shift when they were both exhausted. “I know it’s not your fault Jay. Did you hear me say it was? Because I sure don’t remember those words coming out of my mouth.” Jay mumbled again, although this time it was a practically silent sorry that Hailey’s Vulcan hearing only just managed to pick up on. She could feel his frustration and despite knowing it wasn’t intentionally being directed at her, she also wasn’t about to let her get pushed around to make him feel better, even if he was her boyfriend.  That’s how the next week or so went. Both Jay and Hailey were snapping at each other left and right, and although they both were mature enough not to hold a grudge against the other for longer than a few minutes, neither of them were exactly enjoying themselves. Their triple-homicide came and went, and before they knew it they had been thrown into an arson case — they couldn’t catch a break, no matter how hard they tried.  Jay had walked into the locker room one evening after Hailey had disappeared for a while, his search for the woman coming to an end quickly as he spied her sitting on the bench with her head in her hands. Just when he thought he’d give her some time alone, (he figured she was probably trying to gather her thoughts or something) the sound of almost silent cries coming from the blonde caused his heart to ache painfully. At first, he wasn’t sure — but when the sight of her back rising and falling sharply with each cry, Jay practically bolted over to her in panic. “Hails." Jay sat down on the bench beside his girlfriend, his voice soft as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Hails, what’s the matter? Why are you crying?" Hailey shrugged his hand off of her shoulder — not in a cold way, just in a 'I don't want you to see me like this' kind of way. Nonetheless, Jay persisted as he wrapped his arm around the woman's torso, pulling her closer to him until her head was resting in the crook of his neck. Hailey tried to wipe away her tears roughly, the woman clearly worked up as Jay ran his fingers through her hair in a feeble attempt to offer up some comfort. "Hailey?" "I'm fine, Jay." Hailey's response was much too quick for Jay's liking. Even if she hadn't been crying, her response alone would have provoked concern from the man. He only frowned down at his girlfriend sadly, his heart aching; Hailey wasn't one to show her emotions to anybody. Any time Jay saw Hailey this way, he felt his entire body tearing apart in some inexplicable way — he had the overwhelming urge to find a way to fix it. Because seeing Hailey upset was the absolute worst thing he could ever see. It was so heartbreaking and tore him apart so severely that it could (and would) keep him at night. "You're not fine," Jay's voice was gentle and unthreatening, but he still balanced on the line of pushing as she took a deep breath against him. "You don't have to be fine. But I think it'd help if you talked to me — you're the one who taught me that, remember?" Hailey stayed silent, not daring to utter a sound. Instead, she fixed her gaze upon one of the lockers standing in front of her, studying it as if it were the most interesting thing in the world before she found her breath getting caught up in her throat all over again. Before she knew it, tears were pouring down her cheeks all over again, half of them sad and half of them angry, partly because she had no idea what the hell she was crying for. "Please tell me what's going on," Jay practically begged his girlfriend this time as he rubbed circles on her back, his brows shaped in a concerned V. "Please tell me so that I can — I don't know." "I'm just so tired," Hailey breathed, her sentence being interrupted by a hiccup as she ran her palms down her cheeks. "I haven't slept a full night in days, Jay — neither have you. I'm tired of fighting you and arguing every time we're in the same room together for no other reason other than the fact that we're both exhausted, I'm tired of the lumpy couch and sleeping without you. I miss you, Jay. I miss you so goddamn much it's physically painful right now and I genuinely just don't know how to deal." Jay was sure he could feel his heart breaking into two right there and then, his grip tightening upon Hailey as he held her close. Hailey only sunk into his hold in response to the gesture before sniffling softly, barely moving as the pair froze in time for a short while. It was Jay who broke the silence a few minutes later, his hand still circling her back as his words were muffled slightly by her head. "I'll tell Voight we're both coming down with something." "Jay —" "I'll get Platt to cover for us." "But —" "No buts. We're working something out right here, right now so that you don't have to spend another minute here in pain because if you're in pain. . . I'm ready to kill, maim or otherwise seriously injure whoever's responsible." Hailey let out a small snort of amusement despite her mood. After all — how could she not? It was Jay. Cracking-jokes-at-the-most-inappropriate-of-times Jay. Her Jay.  And despite the fact that she was still weeping silently in frustration and all of the other emotions that had decided to make themselves at home without her go ahead, her Jay was always able to put a smile on her face. "Let's just finish this shift." Hailey exhaled deeply, using a few fingers to wipe away her tears once more. "I'll be okay, Jay." Jay didn't seem all too convinced. "Are you sure?" "I'm sure," Hailey nodded as she wrapped an arm around her boyfriend and rested her head on his chest. She could hear his heart beating beneath his skin; the sound was oddly calming. "I just had to have a little cry." Although Jay was still hesitant to let Hailey go (mostly because he loved having her close and she was so, so warm) he knew that his girlfriend was one of the most headstrong women to ever walk the earth; once she said they were finishing the shift, they were finishing the shift. As soon as six o'clock came around, Jay and Hailey were out of the 21st district and packing into Jay's truck, switching their phones off so that they could have plausible deniability if they were called back in for a case. Yes, the detectives were dedicated to their job and by extension, the city of Chicago, but tonight was a night for them. A night where they could breathe a little bit. God knows they needed it. Hailey had no idea where they were going once Jay passed the turnoff for not just his house but her's too, but quite frankly, she didn't care. She didn't even question it when she saw the "Thank you for visiting Chicago" sign, she and Jay sitting in silence until they arrived in an empty field. It was dark by then, the sky being lit up by nothing than the moon and stars above them. "Come with me." Jay wore a lopsided smile on his features as he spoke, heading around to Hailey's side of the truck as he opened the door up for her and helped the woman out with an extended hand that she gratefully took. Hailey couldn't help the suspicious (and slightly concerned) expression she wore on her features, just as Jay couldn't help laughing at the very same expression.  His lopsided smile turned into a grin as he pulled Hailey along, almost giddy as he pulled down the back part of his truck so that it laid flat. She wasn't sure how she hadn't noticed it before, but now that her attention had been bought to the back tray, she could see the pile of blankets of pillows that had been packed in there along with a 6 pack of beers calling her name from the back corner. Hailey's look of concern brightened into one of love and affection almost immediately, her eyes softening as she snapped her head up to meet Jay's. "You did this?" "I did." Jay was clearly very happy with himself. "You like it?" "It's absolutely sickening." Hailey's sarcasm didn't go unnoticed by Jay who grinned smugly as he watched his girlfriend clamber up into the back of his truck. Its height momentarily posed a challenge for the woman, but it was just another challenge that she overcame as she vaulted herself inside and practically pulled him in after her.  With the mountain of blankets pulled over each of them, Hailey and Jay sat side by side as Jay held two beers in his hand, handing one off to the blonde who took a sip as soon as it was made available. Neither of them had the words to verbalise it, but they both knew this was what they needed. They both knew this was perfect. As the night grew older, Hailey found herself laying with her head on Jay's chest and a hand comfortably resting on his thigh; his hands were running through her blonde locks absentmindedly — he had always found Hailey's hair remarkably soft. The pair of them were still sipping on their beers, but the conversation had shifted to a much calmer and heartfelt topic. "I love you," Hailey had declared suddenly, though, it wasn't the first time she had uttered the three words to her boyfriend and partner. "I love you and your grand gestures, and your smile, and your laugh." "I love you. I love you and your eyes, and the way you scrunch up your nose when you find something funny, the way you're impossibly stubborn but yet incredibly reasonable." "I love you and how you make me feel okay, and how you can understand what I'm trying to say without me ever having to say it, and how you hold me at night and when I'm upset. I love you and how you showed me a million shades of colour that I had never experienced before." Jay's lips curled up into a warm smile, though his eyes showed it more. It was hard to distinguish whether or not it was the way the corners of his eyes creased or if it was the sparkle among the green that did it, but she didn't mind the not knowing. When she was with Jay, she didn't need to know anything except that she loved him and that he loved her — that was enough. It had always been enough. An exhale escaped Hailey's lips as she gazed up at the sky above them, the twinkling orbs that were even brighter away from city lights filling her vision as she studied them closely. They twinkled and shimmered beautifully — almost entrancing — Hailey could barely peel her eyes or focus away from them for more than half a second. "They're amazing, aren't they?" Hailey wasn't expecting a response, but she wasn't shocked either when she received one. "The stars?" "Yeah," she nodded her head against Jay's chest lightly. "They remind me of you, in a way." Jay chuckled with a puzzled look on his face. "They remind you of me? How?" "They're pretty. They're perfect. . They're also everywhere, just like your freckles are. Not to mention that half of them are on the brink of exploding, just like you." He poked her in the side playfully as Hailey laughed heartily in response. "It was so sweet, and then you decided to make fun of me." "Making fun of you is my only hobby, Halstead. How else am I meant to fill my time?" "I don't know! There's a whole world out there — you could take up boxing, or knitting!" "You see me sitting still for long enough to knit?" "No, that was a stupid suggestion. I should have known." Jay's chest rose and fell beneath Hailey's head as he laughed. "Since you're you, I guess I'll let you get away with it. You're both far too dangerous and far too attractive to stay mad at." Hailey only smirked as she turned her head, finally tearing her eyes away from the night sky and gazing into Jay's impossibly green eyes. "Oh yeah? Far too attractive?" "Well—" Jay shifted slightly as his hand brushed up against Hailey's bare arm beneath the blankets. "— maybe — maybe you'll have to remind me just how attractive." "Oh, I can do that." 
🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌
aaaa okay i hope this was good! i don’t know if i did it justice lmao
124 notes · View notes
Text
Feelings - Vorik X Reader
A/N: For a lovely Anon, this was really fun to write; a character I definitely didn’t expect, but I’m very happy I did! I hope you enjoy, as do I all of you, too! Thanks for reading! Hugs :) x
it’s not very short as I do not know how to shut up, I very much apologise omg
Tumblr media
Life on Voyager, despite being stuck in the Delta quadrant, never was boring. Every day seemed to have some mishap or hostile alien species ready to attack. Truly, never a dull day. Engineering was always full of life, and it was by far the best division to be in. You worked under B'Elanna for most of it, and made some very good friends. Amongst them, you took to a quiet Vulcan, Vorik.
At first, he seemed very standoffish, but you hadn't taken it personally, as you knew that was how Vulcans were. Through steely determination, however, the ensign had begun to talk to you more and more, and eventually, he became someone you could call a friend. Over time, the feelings of friendship began to dwindle, and you felt them being replaced by stronger feelings.
Your attempts to get him to hang out with you were futile in the beginning, and he always denied it. Your determination was the only thing that stopped you getting frustrated; you were adamant you could get him to spend an evening with you, and eventually, you found success.
"Hey, are you busy tonight?" you spoke, voice happy and bright as always. Vorik nodded his head in greeting towards you.
"I am not, no. Why do you ask, Y/N? Do you wish to partake in a meeting tonight?" His voice was flat, though had a tone of curiosity at your question broke through.
"If you would. We could grab some food, or visit the holodeck, anything you would like, really. I just thought it might be nice to relax after this week."
He stared at you for a few moments. Rare it was for him to be invited anywhere, let alone have someone be so persistent with him. It peaked his interest, and so he accepted.
"That would be nice, Y/N. I will see you tonight."
As he walked off, your heart fluttered. Vorik had said yes? Yes? You were now excited for the evening to roll around. When it did, you were ready, and as prompt as you would expect, Vorik had arrived at your quarters. The door opened, and Vorik stood, as handsome as ever, and offered a greeting to you.
"Good evening, Y/N, I trust your day was well."
"It was, thank you. Please, come in."
The evening was filled with conversation, Vorik opening up more and more as the night went on. To your surprise, he was a conversationalist and had a lot of stories to tell, from his time on Vulcan exploring the Osana Caverns to the tales of his time at the academy. You, in turn, shared your own experiences with him. Over the course of the night, you found yourself coming to one stark realisation; you loved Vorik. Your mind wandered.
The first time you saw him, you were drawn to him; he was very handsome. Though, upon speaking to him, it became clear he was a quiet man. Rude he may have seemed to anyone who was unfamiliar with Vulcans and their culture, but not to you. You knew of the Vulcans confined nature, and that was when your goal of having him open up came into play. You remembered the first time you made him smile, a genuine smile, and the first time you heard his laugh. He would deny it, but he had the sweetest laugh. The times you shared in the mess hall, conversing and debating over drinks, and the times you shared on shift, arguing over test results. Each of those moments ran through your head as you confirmed what you had known for a while. Love.
You knew Vorik wouldn't return the feeling, but you decided to tell him anyway, needing to get it off your chest. Even if he rejected you, you could live with it, you just needed to tell him.
"Vorik, I have something I'd like to say." He nodded, a silent gesture to allow you to continue. "I may possibly have developed feelings for you, and uh- well, I.." you trailed off, unsure of how to continue. "Oh, well, it- it's nonsense isn't it, it-"
"It is perfectly logical, Y/N." Vorik cut you off, his expression suggesting you were rambling once again. He'd never admit it, but he found it amusing when you went off on a tangent, often giving himself leeway for a chuckle. Bringing his mind back to the present situation, he continued. "I have been aware of these feelings, as I too have been experiencing them in regards to you. I have for a while, though I was not sure of how to approach you about them. It is an unusual experience, but I am glad I can share this with you."
You sat there and just looked at him. Vorik felt the same connection you did. As a rule, Vulcans didn't tend to stray into emotions, and yet, here he was, expressing his own admiration of you. Your heart did leaps, and you placed a hand on his forearm, which was resting on the table, careful not to overstep the boundary of touching his hand. Vorik moved his own arm, and took your hand in his lightly. You looked at him with love in your eyes, and found the same staring back. The silence that surrounded you both was comfortable, and a wave of happiness and contentment overcame you. Smiling, you mind wandered to the future.
This was the last place you would expect to be, but the only place you ever wanted to be.
135 notes · View notes
kinetic-elaboration · 4 years
Text
December 29: The Wrath of Khan
Today’s movie watching was Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan.
My overall impression versus TMP is that this is clearly a smoother and more consistently entertaining film. It has a definite story with very little filler, good pacing, a lot of great little dialogue and character moments, and a strong conflict at its center.
But its sci fi bona fides are much weaker. Like by a lot.
Mom and I are talking a bit about Genesis and the more we talk, the weaker it appears to me. First, it’s not really as believable, imo, as a lot of Star Trek. Maybe it’s because it’s not alien based, but I just have a harder time suspending disbelief to think this is possible. Second, it’s not clear why anyone thought this was a good idea. I mean, as McCoy immediately pointed out, it just seems so CLEARLY dangerous: an object meant to foster creation that could so easily be the worst weapon the universe has ever known--nothing could go awry there! Third, the reason for creating such a device isn’t obvious at all. Carol mentions the “growing population” and “food scarcity” but nothing we’ve ever seen of the Federation implies they’re running out of space. Or, frankly (Tarsus IV aside), food. And fourth, there really isn’t any point to Genesis in all its particulars in this film. Like, obviously, its actual purpose is a plot device to resurrect Spock. Within just this film, it doesn’t do anything. Khan wants it, for some reason I’ve already forgotten even though I just saw the film, and he gets it, but I didn’t even notice that happening, because it was so unimportant. His REAL mission is his single minded revenge fantasy on Kirk. Genesis is just a McGuffin/space filler/plot device for the next film.
And honestly that’s not such a big deal, except that when you compare it to TMP, ,and its central idea of a human made probe that gained so much knowledge, doing what we taught it to do, that it became sentient and then started searching for the meaning of life, and how this relates to the search for meaning experienced by the main alien lead, and how his search, in that film and throughout the series, is a mirror for humans and OUR need for purpose... well it just seems really weak. “We made this really dangerous and unrealistic thing for no reason whoops!”
Mom is now criticizing Kirk for being too slow on the uptake when he first encounters the Reliant, which is fair. That’s pretty OOC of him. The idea that he’s too old for space is both one that I must personally disregard, and one that the film would have you discard, since we’ve already heard from TWO characters, the people who know him best, that his best destiny is as a starship captain, and command is his proper role. And that he might be a little rusty is also not a great explanation imo, because the rust was supposed to have come off in TMP. So, plot hole probably.
We were trying to do some math--TMP is at least 2 years post 5YM and TWOK is at least 10 years post TMP, so at least 8 years post TMP. I can understand more rust growing but like... he was already an Admiral in TMP and the idea that he was out of practice with actual command was a big part of his arc there. So it doesn’t seem warranted to do that again.
Also, the way he was commanding poorly in TMP was very IC: he was pushing too hard, trying too much, caring too much about the mission and not enough about...the laws of physics. That’s very Kirk. Being slow on the uptake, caught with his britches down--that’s not Kirk. Plus, with no one to call him out on it, like Decker did in TMP, his poor command doesn’t seem like a big character obstacle to overcome but just like...sloppiness all around.
I thought Khan was over all... just not that interesting. I guess I’m just not into the obsession/revenge plot. Also...idk man he didn’t seem that super to me. He outsmarted Kirk, like, once, and Kirk outsmarted him like 4 times. He tortured some people--but regular humans can do that. He used those sandworm thingies, which is also something humans could do. Overall, he didn’t seem to have any particularly special skills. The only time he really seemed like a worthy adversary for Kirk was when Kirk wasn’t really being IC himself.
I’m also not into the fridging of his wife. Think how much cooler it would have been if she’d still been alive! The only non-super human in the bunch and she’s still there! Ex-Starfleet and bitter!
The K/S in this film is very soothing. Imo they are clearly together here, and the whole film is better if you assume they’re boyfriends and everyone knows. That Vulcan convo that Spock and Saavik have? Waaaaay funnier if you think she’s talking about his boyfriend (”not what I expected....very human” “Well no one’s perfect”). Every time they call each other ‘friend’ like ““friend”“? All the Looks? The birthday gift?
Also the “I have been and always shall be your [friend]” scene is a wedding I will not be taking criticism on this opinion. Could it have been written more like a vow? I think not. It’s not quite This Simple Feeling but it’s the best this film has in that regard.
I liked Saavik and I do think she’s one of the better later-movie additions (though I only like her, as far as I can remember, when played by Kirstie Alley). She didn’t necessarily strike me as super alien, though, at least not at first... But I appreciated how persistent she was about the stupid test, and her regulation quoting. I enjoyed her. I also liked how she was obviously Spock’s protege, which makes her Kirk’s step-protege, and they had just a little bit of that awkward dynamic going on. (”Did you change your hair?”)
The Bones and Kirk relationship was great in this film. You can really feel their friendship and their history with each other. Bones knows him so well and can be honest with him, just when Kirk needs it most.
I also love how Kirk has the SAME conversation with both Bones and Spock (re: being a captain again) but with Spock it’s sooooo much flirtier. In case you weren’t sure what the difference in these two relationships is.
Bonus: this bit of dialogue: Spock: “Be careful, Jim.” / Bones: “WE will.” Lol Spock people who aren’t your boyfriend do exist.
Obviously, I cried during THAT scene. Honestly AOS should have taken note about how to do emotional scenes like that: they come after the main action is over and the villain is defeated. Then they hit at the right time and to the right degree. Kirk just slumping down after Spock dies....like he’s boneless...like he doesn’t know what to do... I CANNOT.
I feel so bad for him that I’ll even forgive him that awful eulogy. Spock died for Genesis? Uh, no, he died for the Enterprise, and for YOU. Spock is the “most human”? You shut your whoreson mouth
I remember hating both Carol and David but I actually hated them less this time, Carol especially. My mom is being really harsh about her, though, which makes me feel less confident in my assessment. I mean first off, she’s the inventor of Genesis, which is a pretty big strike against her. Second...pretty lame to keep Kirk from David. Although I did some vague math and Kirk would only have been about 21, still in the Academy, when David was born, so you can see how that would work out. Also, she distinctly says “Were we together?” which means they were not--this was a fuck buddy arrangement for sure. More complicated. But it still feels weird to retcon that, like, he’s known THIS WHOLE TIME that he’s a dad and we’re only learning about it now, as an audience.
Anyway I’m getting off track. Carol. What to make of her? Is she unstable? Is she still mad at Kirk? My mom points out that she just decided on her own that David would want to join Starfleet if he knew Kirk was his father--whereas what seems to have happened instead is he didn’t just become a civilian scientist like his mom but became her specific protege--working on a project where everyone was probably handpicked by her? I would assume? Also..he hates Starfleet. Not to put everything on the mom, but how did that happen?
Also...going down the rabbit hole of this and feeling awkward about it... but David KNEW Kirk. As “that guy you hung around with.” That means Kirk was in his life for quite a while, long enough for him to have memories, and long enough for those memories to still be with him even into his 20s. But he was never allowed to know who Kirk was. That means Carol’s rule must have been “You can see your son but you can’t tell him who you are” which in some way seems meaner to me than just “please don’t contact us again.” If he was already on his way into space, that could even make sense--”I know you’re not going to be able to be a family with us, so let’s not pretend, let’s make a clean break now.” But that wasn’t what happened!
Anyway whatever not to be HAICG!Kirk about this or anything lol
David is mostly annoying because he’s so anti-Kirk lol. I found him least annoying when he came around to Kirk at the end. Another big strike against him: he wore his sweater tied over his shoulders in such a Preppy manner. I honestly don’t see what about him is supposed to be reminiscent of Kirk.
David/Saavik was definitely happening lol. I wish I could have heard that conversation. It sounds like she told him a lot!!! Not sure why she attached herself to this particular annoying human so fast but I guess she did.
....I think that might be all. The uniforms and general styling were much better than TMP (though less funny/entertaining), and it was certainly an enjoyable overall yarn. A lot to pick apart and critique but in a fun way. Will probably watch The Search for Spock soon.
4 notes · View notes
unscrxpted · 4 years
Text
Solo Para: Persistence is Key
Muses: Mackenzie N'Livek-Kirk-McCoy-Chekov-Chapel-Verrin, S’Chn T’Gai Tayen, Eretria Guest Starring: Aoife Natal, Deema Capricole Word Count: 1396 Verse: Post-war
The team beamed down to the surface of the planet. Mackenzie looked around, taking a deep breath. “How far is this from that city James pulled Aida from?”
“Not very,” Deema said. She pulled out her tricorder, trying to scan the environment for any signs of life. She smacked the side of it. “Damn. My tricorder isn’t working. Looks like we have to do this the old-fashioned way.”
“Split up,” Tayen said, pointing different directions. “We’ll meet back up here if we find something.”
Deema and Mackenzie nodded, and the three went their separate ways.
“Hello?” Mackenzie called. “Is anyone alive? I’m with Starfleet. We’re here to help.” Nothing. She kept walking, peeking into the remains of buildings as she passed. “This is terrible… God, I hope we can get someone out of here.” She grabbed her communicator. “N’Livek-Kirk-McCoy-Ve- no. Nope. Mackenzie to Capricole. Anything for you?”
“Nothing yet,” Deema responded. “Tayen said she hasn’t found anything either.”
“Okay,” Mackenzie sighed. “I’ll keep you updated. Mackenzie out.”
The hybrid bent down to scoot into a partially collapsed building. “Hello? I’m here to help. I’m with Starfleet. Is there anyone here?” She walked further into the open space. “Well hello, that’s something.” She knelt down. Blankets, food dishes, and a makeshift fire pit were strewn around the room. It looked like someone had been living there, before or after the cave-in she couldn’t tell.
The sound of shuffling feet alerted Mackenzie to someone else’s presence. She stood, spinning on her heel to face the point of a sword.
“Who are you?” the girl wielding it asked.
Mackenzie slowly held up her hands. “My name is Mackenzie. I’m with Starfleet. Myself and two of my colleagues were sent down here to look for survivors.”
“Well you found her,” the girl said, narrowing her eyes when Mackenzie said who she was with.
“It’s just you?” Mackenzie said.
“Yeah. You got a problem with that?”
“Well, sort of, yeah.” Mackenzie sighed softly. “You’re alone. You’re barely sixteen.”
“It’s nothing new,” the girl grumbled.
Mackenzie pursed her lips. She slowly reached up and pushed the blade away. “Please, let us help you. My friend is a doctor.”
“I don’t need a doctor,” the girl snapped. “What I need is you out of my home and off of my planet.”
“I’m sorry but I can’t do that.” Mackenzie’s hand flew forward, reaching out to wrench the handle of the sword from the teenager. The girl jumped back, then kicked Mackenzie in the chest, knocking her to the ground. She brought up her sword and swung it down. Mackenzie squeaked, barely rolling out of the way in time.
Jumping to her feet, Mackenzie struck the girl in the face. Just once was enough, as the force of the punch knocked her out cold. Mackenzie shook her head. She grabbed her communicator. “N’Livek-Kirk-McKirk- absolutely not. Mackenzie to Orville. We’re gonna need a bed in sickbay.”
“Understood, standby. Just one?”
“Affirmative.” Mackenzie hoisted the girl over her shoulder. “Kir- Come on, on the first one? Mackenzie to Capricole. We’ve got a live one. She’s a fighter. Let’s meet back up.”
Tayen finished up her notes, glancing over at Mackenzie. She sighed and walked over to her. “Hey, she’s gonna be okay. We’ll find a place for her.”
“That’s not enough,” Mackenzie whispered. She stared at the biobed the handcuffed teenager slept on. “Tayen… You should’ve seen how she reacted when I told her I was Starfleet. She clearly doesn’t have a good relationship with officers.”
“Then we’ll find her a civilian family,” Tayen offered.
“No,” Mackenzie said. She shook her head. “No. She’ll just feel like we’re pawning her off on someone. She’ll run away. End up on the streets again. Alone.”
Tayen paused. She sat next to Mackenzie. “Then I think I know what you need to do.”
Mackenzie blinked, looking at her. “Me?”
“Yes, you.” Tayen nudged her. “Offer to take her in.”
Mackenzie blinked again. She looked back over at the girl. Take her in? Was Mackenzie prepared for that? She wasn’t sure… but this girl needed a home. She knew that. She was like that once. Alone, afraid, and in need of a place to be safe. And her favorite six people gave her that. She nodded.
“Okay.”
Tayen smiled and patted Mackenzie’s back. “I’ll be right back. I need to talk to Doctor Finn.” She got up, walking away.
Mackenzie took a deep breath. This girl would undoubtedly reject her. But she needed to be persistent. That’s what James taught her when Aida came aboard. Persistence was key.
The girl stirred awake. Mackenzie sat up, smiling softly. “Hey. Sorry about… you know… punching you.”
“You’re wicked strong,” the girl groaned, rubbing her face. She looked around. “Where am I?”
“You’re in the sickbay of the USS Orville,” Mackenzie said. “You had some minor injuries that needed to be treated, not to mention… you know…”
“You punching me?”
Mackenzie chuckled. “Yeah.”
“When can I go?”
“Not any time soon, I’m afraid,” Tayen said, walking back over. She smiled. “I’m Doctor Tayen. What’s your name?”
“None of your business.”
Tayen raised an eyebrow. She crossed her arms. “Young lady, I need your name. I can’t even think about releasing you until you answer my questions.”
The girl clenched her jaw. “Eretria.”
Tayen nodded, uncrossing her arms and recording it. “Thank you, Eretria. How old are you?”
“Sixteen. Ish,” Eretria said.
Tayen raised an eyebrow. She recorded the answer, taking a small breath. “How long have you been on your own?”
Eretria paused. “Most of my life. I was born on the streets. My mom died before I was old enough to really remember her.”
“I’m so sorry,” Mackenzie said.
“Everyone always is,” Eretria hissed.
Mackenzie stood, stepping over to the biobed. “Eretria, it’s not okay for you to be alone like that. You’re fending for yourself, stealing food, and living in abandoned buildings that could cave in on you at any given moment. You need somewhere safe to stay.”
“Yeah? And who’s gonna give me that? Starfleet?” Eretria scoffed. She tugged on the handcuffs. “Do I get to keep my new jewelry when I go to this magical safe place?”
Mackenzie winced. She cleared her throat. “I didn’t want to do that. Other security officers thought it would be for the best until you were treated. You’re a flight risk.”
“Not sure how you expect me to miraculously escape the ship, but sure.” Eretria leaned back, looking away from the lieutenant.
“Eretria,” Tayen said, “you’re very underweight, and malnourished. Is there anyone you know of that can take care of you?”
“Never has been,” Eretria said.
Tayen paused. “Until you’re healthier, I can’t release you-”
“What?!” Eretria yelled. She sat up, pulling on her cuffs. “No way! You and your stupid soldiers can’t keep me here!”
“Actually, we can, and right now we have to,” Tayen said firmly. “When your readings concern me less, then you can go. But until then, you’re staying right here. Get comfortable. I’ll be sending a nurse with food for you shortly.” The half Vulcan nodded once, tucked her PADD under her arm, and walked out of the room.
“You have to let me go eventually!” Eretria shouted after her. She fell back against the biobed and glared at Mackenzie.
The hybrid sighed. She wanted to help this girl. This lonely, scared, angry girl. She shook her head. “We’re going to help you.”
“I don’t need or want your help.”
Aoife stepped into sickbay, taking a sharp breath when she caught sight of the girl. She looked at Mackenzie and nodded toward Eretria. Mackenzie nodded.
“Isn’t it rude to telepathy about other people?” Eretria asked sarcastically.
Aoife smiled. “We’re not. We just know each other very well. Lieutenant, you should take a few minutes to yourself. Eat. Take a nap. You’re not a machine. You can’t run on fumes forever.”
“I really hate it when you’re right,” Mackenzie chuckled. She patted Aoife’s shoulder. “Thank you.” She looked to Eretria. “I’ll be back soon.”
“That’s what they all say,” Eretria mumbled, just barely loud enough for Mackenzie to hear.
Mackenzie stood there a long moment, then turned, heading out of sickbay. If anyone knew how to deal with stubborn teenagers who needed a home, it would be James. After all, he had Aida.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
1 note · View note
nikkzwrites · 5 years
Text
First Christmas Together | Star Trek One-Shot | Spock x Female OC |
Laarth sets up Spock's first Christmas...and invites their family...and the crew.
Please Enjoy this self-indulgent Christmas One-Shot I wrote. I really missed my partner so I apparently got possessed and wrote nearly 4.5k words. :) But it is done now so Nikkz is FREEEEEEE.
The man’s face scrunched as he heard scrambling around him. He took in a deep breath before sitting up to look at his partner who had already scrambled off somewhere else in one of the other parts of their home. He felt lucky to have time off from the Enterprise to spend it with his excitable love. He carefully removed himself from their shared bed to try and find where his little other half ran off. His eyebrows raised as he finally noticed glittering decorations and tinsel hanging from their walls.
“Laarth,” He called out in his deep smooth voice. He heard the movement stop. His shoulders adjusted for himself to stand straighter. He understood that she was very aroused by the idea of celebrating this holiday with him. It was apparently one of her father’s favorite human traditions. He, himself, didn’t dislike it. In fact, he would have loved if his own mother had shown him the same holiday. When he continued to hear no movement, his voice bellowed through the halls worried, “Laarth?” His panic starting to make him alter himself into a stance where he could rush to her side.
Just as quickly as his worry started to hit him, the small half-Vulcan rounded the corner with a wide smile. The taller man recalibrated himself straighter. His head tilted. Laarth smiled and tossed some clear, white, and blue flecks up between them to have it land into their dark hair. “Good morning,” She smirked. Her face wrinkled in her enjoyment. Laarth was so proud of herself for her hard work. When she looked up at her half-human companion, she could see him looking down at her. His words harsh, but his eyes gentle.
“I said I would enjoy spending the tradition with you. Not that you could allow a hostile takeover of our home,” Spock scolded. He carefully started to pick the plastic out of his Laarth’s hair. 
Laarth laughed at him, “But, it is not!” Her sparkling smile melted his heart every time. She laced his long slender fingers with her tiny fingers. She pleaded with him, “Can I show you into the kitchen?”
Spock had to fight his inner laughter at his darling. He nodded and said, “Only if you promise it is not as over the top as the rest of our living spaces that I have seen.”
Laarth led her tall partner into their living room. She had decorated it in his uniform colors. Luckily blue, gold, and silver still matched the general Christmas spirit she was aiming to achieve. When she turned to look at his expression, Laarth giggled. Spock had closed his eyes. Laarth used his hand to stabilize herself as she stood on her toes to try and give him a chaste kiss. His face was so soft and delicate when he was just resting. She could feel his arm stiffen when she leaned more onto it for help. Spock’s eyes opened. He looked down at her and raised his brow.
He helped her down compassionately. He decided to pat her head instead of giving in to her kiss right then. Spock looked around. He was astonished at how much work she must have put in to have everything. He looked down at his small wife. His memories played the trick of seeing her as when they were both much younger. She hadn’t changed much since then, had she? Her look of wonder and admiration towards him still persisted despite all that was thrown at her. He allowed her to interlace their fingers once more. Her soft musical voice snapped him back from his thoughts.
“Do you like it,” She asked. Laarth started to worry. She could tell he was deep in thought, yet she did not want to violate his privacy by invoking their shared mental connection. She removed one of her hands to softheartedly touch his face. His head slowly moved to rest more against her palm. He was like a cat who wanted nothing more than to feel the closeness of another touch.
He stated simply, “I can tell how much effort you must have put into this. Your own emotional state has left an impression upon my own.” He held onto her wrist to keep her hand where it was resting. The feeling of her thumb petting his face he could only define as, what their human ancestry would call, heavenly. He warily let her hand down and asked, “Is this all there is to this...holiday?” He looked around their dwelling once more. He could see a number of wrapped presents beneath a decorated tree. All the dressed parcels seemed to be labeled and wrapped in the colors that matched the rest of the decorum. Blue parcels with golden ribbons, Silver ones with blue ribbons, Golden boxes wrapped with a silver ribbon. They all sat organized into piles.
Laarth shook her head, “There is plenty more.” She followed his gaze and gasped, “Oh yes! The present exchange. That’s later tonight. Around dinner actually. But first, I have more holiday tradition stuff to show you so that you don’t stumble over yourself tonight.”
Spock raised his brow and nodded. He took in a deep breath before letting out another sigh to follow Laarth. He stated, “I would not ‘stumble over myself.’ I have never done such a thing. Also, are you implying that there will be more than just the two of us at dinner tonight?” He followed close behind her. Her short legs were very ineffective at gaining large distances from him. 
Laarth stopped in her tracks. She quickly turned on the balls of her feet to look at him. “Yes,” she squeaked out. She looked up at him with a look that was to try and mimic a guilty dog caught doing what it was not supposed to be doing. “Do you mind,” she asked.
“It would be far too late for me to protest,” Spock settled, “May I have an idea of who you invited?” He watched as she rocked from side to side, uncomfortable.
She swallowed her pride and nervously explained, “Well, Vus and my father of course.”
He nodded, “Of course.”
“I also invited your mother and father,” She went on to list.
Spock rubbed his chin, “Understandable. Wouldn’t want them to feel excluded.”
Laarth swallowed hard again and rushed through the last few names, “And I also invited: James Kirk, Leonard McCoy, Montgomery Scott, Nyota Uhura, Hikaru Sulu, Pavel Chekov, and Christine Chapel.” 
He sighed and concluded, “Naming them quickly does not impede my ability to recognize my fellow crewmen’s names. Even if you include their first names.” He patted his wife’s head once more. “So let’s hear more about what is customary for your household so that I do not have to hear any unnecessary snark from Doctor McCoy.”
Laarth smiled and sat on their countertop, “Well first, you should be aware of the mistletoe around the house. Mistletoe looks like…”
“I am well aware of what mistletoe looks like,” Spock interrupted. 
She nodded, “Well I guess you are also ‘well aware’ of the tradition behind it.” She sneered at him. Her husband rolled his eyes and motioned for her to continue. “Well, it is so that people have an excuse to give their loved ones a kiss.” She started to point out the locations of them in the house. “I scattered them around so if you want to avoid them, you know where they are.”
He nodded, “Thank you. This is very...useful information.” He started to look around the room and locate for himself where the Earth plant branch hung. “I will start making a necessary plan to avoid them. I do find it fascinating that humans went to such lengths to conduct in an activity that they often engage in any way.”
Laarth shrugged and said, “Well, they do not have the blessings that we have. Unlike us, they cannot simply understand each other’s thoughts due to a bond.”
“They certainly are lucky,” He teased.
The lessons went by quickly and Laarth was even able to convince Spock to put on a ‘traditional ugly sweater’ for their dinner party. It didn’t take much from her to convince him. He often gave into Laarth’s requests no matter the logical fallacy at the present time because it often came back around to be quite logically sound when it came to humans. This time, he was just worried about how hot they may feel throughout the night. Vulcan wasn’t the most hospitable place for those who had not grown up within its environment. She seemed perfectly happy though. She was nearly bouncing near the door waiting for people to arrive. Spock pat her head to keep her calm.
First to arrive was her once dark-haired father accompanied by her brother, Vus. Vus exchanged the Vulcan Salute with his brother-in-law and received a massive hug from his sister. Nathan laughed at his daughter and her brother. His full Vulcan adoptive son towered over the half-sister. Nathan hugged both his son in law and his daughter. He could tell Spock was still not quite used to his way of showing affection, but he appreciated the effort from Spock to put up with it. The human man turned to see Vus fussing at Laarth about her glasses. He took them off of her, cleaned them, and readjusted them to her face. Nathan guessed Vus still hadn’t gotten over the time period in which Laarth had become so overcome by grief, she refused to take care of herself.
Next, Amanda and Sarek arrived. Spock assumed that they simply waited in watch to make sure they were not the first to arrive. His mother certainly was the one to come up with that plan. Amanda greeted the two of them much like Laarth’s father. Sarek, however, offered both of them a head bow and Vulcan salute. Spock’s parents walked to talk with Laarth’s family. Amanda was excited to catch up with Nathan and Vus. Sarek and Amanda, Spock concluded, probably had enough talking to his wife due to her closeness of location and career path. They were some of the only people other than federation stationed humans that enjoyed her emotive presence at their home.
Spock let out a sigh as he knew exactly what was to happen next. He wasn’t exactly pleased with the idea that Laarth invited his captain and fellow members of the Enterprise. He knew this could only lead to trouble and pestering about his past.
Captain Kirk paused the rest of the crew before entering. He looked at them and said, “Now, please understand everyone, Laarth most likely went behind our Mr. Spock’s back to invite us here.”
“Well yes, Jim,” Bones laughed, “Do you really think that Mr. Spock would celebrate this holiday, much less invite us to join him?”
Scotty also laughed. “Aye, Cap’n, we realized just that.”
Already sweating, Chekov panted. He started to fan himself, “Can we please go inside? It’s hot out here.”
Uhura nodded in agreement, “Yes Captain. I agree.”
Jim nodded, “I can agree. Let’s go in.” He knocked at the door to be greeted by his first officer. He smiled seeing Spock. He could tell that the Vulcan was amused to see them all gathered here. 
Laarth tried to squeeze past her husband. Her head appeared from beneath his arm. She first looked up at Spock then turned her head to the snickering group. She smiled widely, “Oh hello~!” She pushed her wide framed glasses up to be able to see them all better.
Kirk laughed a bit at the sudden emergence of a small feminine head from behind the doorway. He could tell that she was much shorter than his first officer. She also had a much different disposition. “And you must be Mrs. Spock that we have all heard so much about,” He smiled down at her.
When Chekov opened his mouth to speak, Scott elbowed him. This didn’t seem to phase Laarth though. She just brushed it off with the wind. “I can say with 100 percent certainty that my husband did not, in fact, speak of me to anyone on the ship,” She explained, “Also, please call me Laarth. Spock is obviously my husband’s name. It is also easier for both of us.”
Spock looked down at Laarth, “Laarth, my dear, could you remove yourself from the area so I may allow our human friends in? Vulcan’s atmosphere…”
Laarth’s eyes widened as she interrupted him, “Right right! Please welcome them in.” She disappeared into the home.
Sulu laughed to Uhura, “She’s a little different than expected.”
“Yes,” Uhura agreed, “But it is absolutely adorable to see.”
Spock opened the door wider and motioned them inside, “Come inside quickly. Laarth has the house set so all of you should acclimate well. She still hasn’t grown to like our home planet.”
The group rushed in. Kirk stayed behind to ask his science officer some questions to clarify. He looked at Spock and quietly asked, “Our home planet? She doesn’t seem...”
He raised his brow for a second before nodding in understanding, “Oh. Yes. Her ancestry is very similar to mine. In the brief moments you saw her, I do not expect you saw her telltale signs, but her mother is from Vulcan.” He motioned to Vus introducing himself to Scotty and Bones, “That is actually her brother. You will come to know him as Vus.” He guided Kirk into the room.
Vus nodded to Scotty and Bones, “I’m afraid to report that I am actually the small woman’s brother. Despite what you humans may think, Spock and I look near nothing alike in terms of our race.”
Bones made a face at him, “In personality, you two are exactly alike.”
Vus raised his brow, “I apologize if I offended you, Dr. McCoy.” 
Scotty simply started at Spock’s wife then explained, “She doesn’t look Vulcan though.”
Vus nodded slowly in understanding. “Laarth,”  He called to his sister. When she walked up, he moved her overgrown hair away from her ears and removed her glasses revealing the pointedness of the tip of her ears. “You haven’t cut your hair in a while Laarth. Do I need to stop by more often to do it for you,” He scolded his sister.
Laarth whined, “Vus stop.” She blushed. A green hue spreading across the bridge of her nose into her cheeks. She struggled against her brother’s grip.
Scotty blinked, “Wow, she really is Vulcan.” He swatted a bit to try to get a better look at her, “And wow.”
“Fascinating,” Spock’s voice echoed behind them, “I’m not surprised that the two of you would convince Vus to embarrass her in such a way.”
Vus looked at Spock and tilted his head, “Did you notice she is not maintaining her hair length?” He looked down at his sister, “Does the Academy allow you to wear your hair like this?”
Laarth huffed and said, “I grew it out. The Academy doesn’t care what I do. Most of my students study here anyway. I’m a remedial teacher. Not true faculty.” Her brother let go of her arms. She made a face at him.
Bones looked at her and asked, “Have you and your brother always been like this?”
“Since we first met,” Laarth laughed, “He was so small and sweet back then. Now he treats me like I’m an invalid.” She turned to Vus to scold him herself, “Which is no way to treat your older sister.”
Vus raised his brow, “You have forgotten that I was once your caretaker while you were invalid.”
Spock sighed. He shook his head and looked at Bones and Scotty, “Why don’t you two go join the captain? It seems like I will have to talk down these two.”
“And miss this,” Scotty laughed, “I think not.”
Bones nodded with a beaming smile, “I rather enjoy watching these two.”
Spock sighed, “If you two insist.” He turned to the bickering siblings. He pat Laarth’s head, “It’s quite enough of this, don’t you believe so?” He let his hand run down her hair, “We can discuss this at a more appropriate time.”
Laarth immediately stopped bickering with her brother to look up at Spock, “But you like my hair like this.”
Bones nudged Spock, “But you like it.” He chuckled. 
Spock stared harshly at Bones before turning to Laarth, “Later.”
Laarth nodded and followed after her husband. She called back to the group, “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Scott and Dr. McCoy.” 
Bones, then, turned to Vus and asked, “Is she actually your older sister?”
When trying to follow her husband to speak to Nurse Chapel, Lieutenant Uhura, and Lieutenant Sulu, Laarth got pulled into a conversation with her father, Spock’s parents, and Captain Kirk. 
Upon Nathan pulling his daughter into the conversation, Sarek touched his right index and middle fingers to Amanda’s left, “There is no reason for me to be present in this conversation. You three are acting completely emotional about the situation at hand.” He nodded to go speak to his son.
Amanda nodded and turned to her daughter in law, “We were talking about how much longer the mission for the Enterprise will take.” She wrapped her arm around Laarth’s.
Laarth looked amongst the group, “I do not understand why Sarek would leave if this is all the conversation is about nor do I really understand why I must be here for this discussion.”
Nathan smiled, “Well, sweetheart, we were wondering if you and Spock have discussed what your plans were after this mission.”
Laarth blinked and looked even more confused at the group, “I would assume whatever the Federation would need of him, he would do such. I am planning on being here for my own career.” She shook her head, “This still is no explanation for why Sarek would walk away.”
Kirk smiled, “Well, I believe these two were ready for grandchildren.” He chuckled.
“What,” Laarth exclaimed. Her face flushed with green again. The tips of her ears even becoming similar hues.
Spock approached the group and spoke to Laarth directly, “You seem to be having trouble today.” He looked back to the group, “What caused this reaction from her?”
Kirk smiled at Spock. He chuckled, “Well, those two are ready for grandchildren and they were beating around the bush. So I directly told Laarth.”
Spock blinked and nodded. When he opened his mouth to speak, Amanda interrupted, “You know the both of us do not have the life span of you two.”
“I know, Mother,” Spock agreed. He was about to speak again when Nathan interrupted him.
“We were only wanting to understand if that is even in the cards for us,” the man explained.
Spock nodded, “That is understandable, but-”
Kirk couldn’t help speaking up to his entertainment, “But what Spock?”
The Vulcan looked at his captain slightly annoyed before addressing that section of the party, “It is simply too illogical for us to have children right now. Both of us have our careers we need to focus on. A child would only hinder that ability.”
Nathan shook his head, “But Spock, Laarth’s career has plenty of room to allow a child in it right now.”
“Yes,” Spock agreed, “But mine may keep me away from home, which is not preferable when caring for a child. We also would have liked to postpone having the conversation until we can have confirmation that I will be stationed at home or on a base where we can both provide for and raise our children.” He felt a cool touch wrap around his smallest finger.
Wrapping her smallest finger around Spock’s, Laarth hoped would help calm her beloved down from his anger and irritation. She smiled at him and added in, “I think our views have been made very clear now on this issue. If you please, excuse us.” Laarth gave the group a small bow of her head before leading Spock back to the group he originally wanted her to bring her. Sarek dismissed himself to go back to the group with his wife as Spock and Laarth joined the group.
Nurse Chapel welcomed Spock back with a smile and greeted Laarth, “I think we are all just excited to be meeting you and to see more inside Spock’s life.”
“Thank you so much for saying so,” Laarth’s smile grew, “I was also eager to meet all of you. Each of you is held very close in his thoughts.”
Sulu smiled and said, “That is very surprising.”
Laarth tilted her head and looked up at Spock, “You really have tricked them well.” She turned to them and said, “I think both of our inclinations have imprinted on each other. My husband is very compassionate and empathic. I, however, tend to be more emotionally detached out of the two of us.”
“I simply do not believe you,” Uhura shook her head. She looked between the petite wife compared to her tall husband. She wouldn’t call Spock apathetic, but Laarth definitely was not what she pictured as being emotionally detached.
Spock nodded his head once and helped justify the group’s reactions, “I believe they are not used to having someone so emotive and not actually fully feel those emotions for themselves.” He looked at the group, “When we were children, we both agreed to make a permanent bond. Both of us knew we were going to be separated by several planets and solar systems so we thought it was the easiest form of contact. Laarth has always been very capable in the matter of her telepathic abilities. So when she and I were going to engage in a mind-meld with some transference of katra, I recommended what I had learned a mere five years prior. She and I managed to accomplish what most children needed a high priestess. This resulted in Laarth and I often conflating our thoughts especially seeing that we have been mentally bonded and frequent communication for twenty-seven years.”
The rest of the group looked at the two of them surprised. Chekov blinked a little bit before furrowing his brow, “Just how old are you?”
Laarth smiled, “Don’t you know it’s very rude to ask someone their age?”
The party slowly started to wind down. Laarth helped everyone to their seats and smiled. She pressed her fingertips together. The half Vulcan explained, “I wanted to get all of you gifts for helping take care of my Spock or myself.” She moved quickly to each present and gave them to the corresponding person. “I had to get a little bit of information from my husband to get things that you may possibly like. I hope you all enjoy them.”
The crew of the Enterprise looked shocked. None of them were ready for such a surprise. They turned to see everyone else took it in stride and opening their gifts. Chekov opened his first to find Vodka. He smiled and looked at Scotty who had pulled his gift of Scotch out of the box. Christine slowly opened hers which held some Vulcan jewelry. Uhura and Sulu both excitedly open theirs. Uhura let out a squeak when she saw the Vulcan exfoliants. Sulu carefully took the potted Vulcan seedling out of the box and couldn’t wait to get it onto the ship. Leonard and Jim both looked at each other before opening their gifts as well. Jim sat amazed. He stared in disbelief. He could tell that the replica of his ship was handcrafted. He looked up to see Spock looking at his wife with a raised brow. Laarth just shrugged and smiled. The captain, then, turned to watch his friend Bones open his gift. Leonard’s wrapping paper fell to the floor. He stared at a handwritten account and translation of a medical report that the Vulcan’s had in their records. As he flipped through, he could see some of the drawings were also there. It seemed to be in a different penmanship though.
Doctor McCoy looked up and asked Laarth, “Did you do this yourself?”
“Oh, yes. Yours required me to borrow my husband’s skill a bit more than knowledge,” Laarth stated, “I hope you find his diagrams useful.”
McCoy turned to Spock who simply nodded, “Yes Doctor. I hope that you find them useful as well. My wife will be sending me with a copy as well if you were to have any questions. I haven’t had the time to fully study it, but I will keep it with me so that I can try to read it in my downtime.”
McCoy nodded, shocked. He uttered, “Th-thank you so much.” He shook his head, “Wow. Do you think you can get me one of these for all the Vulcan reports?” He laughed at the last part.
Laarth, to his surprise, seemed to be thinking it over. She opened her mouth to speak, but he interrupted her.
“I was joking, please don’t go through all that trouble for me,” he hurried in explaining.
Laarth nodded, “Of course Doctor. I can still translate them and send them to you, electronically.”
McCoy nodded, “I would really like that. Thank you.” He turned to Spock and said, “You picked a really nice one Spock.”
Spock tilted his head a bit, “On the contrary, she continuously picked me. It was illogical for me to believe that someone of her impressive talents would choose to be by my side unless she specified it to be so.”
After the presentation of the gifts, Sarek and Amanda took their leave. Vus and Nathan soon followed. The crew gave a small goodbye to the couple before returning to the ship. Spock sighed and sat on their couch. His long arm stopped Laarth in her tracks. He pulled her onto the sofa with him and said, “I am sure you are as exhausted as I am after all of that. We can finish cleaning in the morning.”
Laarth nodded. She reached around to a small pocket between the wall and the couch. She tucked her hair behind her pointed ear and handed him the present she had hidden from him. “Merry Christmas,” She smiled.
Spock slowly opened the gift. He blinked as he saw some ear warmers and an eye mask. He restrained a laugh. He removed them and softly placed them on the table, “You didn’t have to make these for me.”
Laarth nodded and placed her forehead on his, “But I wanted to.”
Spock ran his fingers through her hair and said, “Well I didn’t want you to feel left out.”
Laarth raised her brow and asked, “What are you talking about?”
He pointed to his other hand right above her head holding one of the mistletoe that she had hung up.
Laarth smiled and slowly kissed him.
Spock reciprocated for a minute before pulling away, “Merry Christmas, Love.”
14 notes · View notes
werewolves-are-real · 5 years
Note
Would you be okay with sharing a snippet? I an so curious as to what you are working on!
Sorry I took so long to answer! I’ve mostly been working on Star Trek fics right now - a lot of Star Trek fics - and unless otherwise stated I assume most people are asking about Temeraire, lol.
So, I included both types!
Temeraire:
This is from a fic where Laurence gains wings + a tail + scales, due to the all-powerful Celestial Dragon Magic. It’s a thing, which I entirely made up. (The whole covert just kinda conspires to hide him from the rest of Britain)
________________
“What the hell are you doing?” Someone laughs. “What, are you stuck?”
“I am trying not to wake Captain Laurence,” Dulcia complains. “Do not laugh at me.”
“What? Oh – that is Laurence. Why, he is more like a dragon every day,” Chenery says, amused.
“Well, he is a dragon,” says Dulcia.
“I suppose so. Come on, now – I told you we need measurements for your new harness. You are getting far too fat.”
“That means I am healthy,” Dulcia sniffs. “And Messoria tells me it is rude to call females fat.”
“No has ever accused me of being polite.”
They leave.
Maximus is still snoring. Laurence blinks up and realizes it's grown late; he often sleeps outside at night, but for the life of him he can't remember why he chose to take a nap in the Regal Copper's clearing, rather than his own rooms. Messoria still seems to be asleep, but Laurence pushes away her wing and decides to return to Temeraire.
He feels vaguely guilty, and it's not hard to determine why.
'More like a dragon every day,' Chenery said. Is it true? Laurence still feels like himself. But then, a few months ago he probably wouldn't have joined a pile of dragons for a midday rest, so perhaps there's some merit to the observation.
Temeraire, when he explains his concerns, is unfazed.
“Well, I suppose you act a little different,” he says. “But I do not think that is a bad thing or a good thing. You are still the same in every way that matters.”
This is not reassuring. “Different in what ways?”
“Well, for one you sleep out with me more often,” Temeraire notes. “Which can only be good. And also your scent is a little different, so the cows are afraid of you now.”
“That is not quite what I meant, my dear.”
Temeraire stretches his wings. “You worry far too much, Laurence. You are different than when we met, but so am I. Even Granby has gotten much nicer, and cadet Roland has learned to clean my scales better than she used to. Everyone changes. As long as you do not change in a bad way, I do not see the problem. And I cannot imagine you doing anything evil, after all.”
The simple logic makes Laurence smile a little. And, oddly, he does feel better. “I suppose that is all true,” he agrees. “But...”
He is not just worried to find himself changing. He wonders if he is still transforming – becoming other, something less than human not just in body, but in mind.
Yet, looking at Temeraire's expectant eyes, he can't voice the thought. Dragons do not think like humans, perhaps – but even a few months has taught Laurence that they are no less unique, and their opinions no less worthy.  
It is a thought he must consider more. Laurence shakes his head. “My dear,” he says. “I am sorry. You are entirely right; perhaps I have worried for nothing.”
“You always do,” Temeraire sniffs. “You ought to discuss your problems with me sooner, Laurence; you can be very silly about these things.”
__________________
Star Trek:
section of a continuation for “Identity,” where Spock has been given a physically feminine body after a transporter accident, and prefers to stay that way.
__________________
Over the years, Spock has found that it can be helpful to seek out certain crewmates for advice regarding the emotional undercurrents of confusing situations. In her early years at the academy she often sought this advice from Cadet Elisa Ryland, who she met through a number of astrophysics courses. Ryland had a quiet, rational demeanor that struck her as almost Vulcan, and she was often able and willing to explain issues of human sociology without any accompanying embarrassment. Spock still corresponds with her, although the current Lieutenant-Commander Ryland is not a sentimental woman.
Later Captain Pike became something of a mentor to Spock, who found the older officer full of useful command wisdom. In recent years Jim has been her closest confidante in all matters.
But she cannot approach Jim regarding an issue that does, after all, include him. Which is how Spock finds herself standing before Doctor McCoy's quarters, carefully weighing her options.
At last she buzzes at the door. McCoy is openly surprised to see her. “You need something?” he asks. Spock has only visited his quarters six times in the past several years.
Seven times, now. “I am here regarding a personal matter,” Spock says.
McCoy raises his eyebrows but immediately stands aside. “Well, take a seat.”
Spock politely accepts a glass of water; she is unsure if this is a rare deference to Vulcan tradition, or merely one of McCoy's own ingrained social niceties.
“Now,” McCoy drawls when he's resumed his own seat. “You're welcome any time, Spock, but you don't exactly make a habit of dropping in. What's this about?”
Spock considers how to phrase the matter.
“The captain is trying to seduce me,” she declares, and subsequently watches as McCoy chokes on his drink.
“I take it back,” McCoy tells her a minute later, wiping liquid from his chin. “You are never welcome here again. Goddammit.”
Ignoring this hyberbole, Spock continues. “I would seek your advice in this matter. In different circumstances I would not necessarily object to the captain's intentions, but I consider his motivations suspect.”
“Not opposed - oh, god,” McCoy says. “Spock, if you're going to tell me you're in love with Jim, I really need a drink first. A good shot of bourbon or five.”
“I am not 'in love' with the captain,” Spock snaps. “On Vulcan it is typical for partners to be chosen on the basis of mental compatibility. After Jim, Uhura or Sulu would also be excellent mates.” McCoy chokes again. “But I recognize that humans require a different type of connection. I fully intend to find a Vulcan husband.”
McCoy still looks a bit dazed. “Husband?” he echoes. Spock isn't sure why everyone is so preoccupied with the sex of her hypothetical mate. The doctor shakes his head, as though drawing himself from a daze. “Right, okay. First of all, Sulu would be thrilled to date you – male or female versions – and I ain't saying anything else on that.” Spock raises an eyebrow. “Second – I can't say I'm really surprised. Just to, uh, clarify – Jim never flirted with you before?”
“No, Doctor. Surely you have realized he has no interest in men.”
“Yeah, that's obvious,” McCoy agrees. “Despite the rumors. But you're... well, you're not a man. And you're so damn pretty it's a waste, if you won't slap me for saying it.”
Spock ignores the latter comment. “The point remains,” she says, “That Jim never possessed such interest before. I can only presume that he is acting on lust, which I find distinctly uncomfortable.”
“I'm distinctly uncomfortable,” McCoy mutters.
Spock stiffens. “If you do not wish to discuss this subject, Doctor...”
McCoy waves his hand through the air before she can finish. “Hell, Spock, I ain't sending you away. And you're right – Jim's being a dog, and you deserve to be mad about it. But there ain't any easy solution, except to give him an earful and tell him to shape up.”
“I see,” Spock says. “That seems insufficient. I have rarely known the captain to make personal errors.”
“Oh, we all make mistakes when we stop thinking with our brains.”
Spock tilts her head. She is genuinely unfamiliar with this idiom. “With what else would he think, Doctor?”
Oddly, McCoy reddens. “Nevermind that,” he coughs. “Listen. Just talk to him. That's all you can do.”
“I do not see how that will discourage his... interest.”
“Well, no. I don't think anyone's invented a way to stop men looking at women. But you Vulcans think action is more important than feelings – and even us humans can control ourselves that much.”
A fair assessment. Still: “I would not expect you to advocate emotional suppression, Doctor.”
“There's a difference between making yourself a computer and refusing to be an animal. The first is masochism – the second is just good manners.”
“Very well,” Spock concedes. Though she would never say so, it's somehow reassuring that McCoy doesn't seek to blame her for the captain's attentions. Spock knows that many people over the years – men and women – have found her attractive, though usually it was only the challenge – the exotic nature of Vulcan romance – that appealed to them. Somehow those pursuits never bothered her like this. “I will speak to him tomorrow. Though based on Jim's persistence in past encounters I am unsure if his behavior will change.”
“Jim ain't like that, Spock – you tell him 'no' and he'll back off. And if he doesn't,” McCoy adds darkly, “I'll have a talk with him.”
22 notes · View notes
lhpharm · 5 years
Photo
Tumblr media
Today, I went back to my home at Barangay Bangkal in Makati City to celebrate Christmas.
Tumblr media
I interviewed my uncle Richard Saquilayan, the Barangay Secretary. Our family visited his family in his house right before the party so I took the chance to conduct a short but very insightful discussion. (He and I are very close because of where I grew up)
Tumblr media
Having lived there for majority of my life, I had a good guess of what disaster happens frequently there: flood—and with the discourse between him and I, my hunch was proven right.
In the Philippines, 20 typhoons on average enter the country; with the exclusion of minor rainfalls. Despite Makati City being found on a high place, this barangay suffers from flood due to a variety of reasons.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The residential streets of the community are filled with a variety of houses along with small establishments such as sari-sari stores and vulcanizing shops.
These streets of Barangay Bangkal are the ones that are easily flooded. This is due to its narrowness and the failure of its sewage systems within the area.
Furthermore, as seen in the photo, power lines are prominent and very near the premises of people. This is also seen as a hazard due to the strong winds that typhoons bring. One instance has happened wherein our neighbor’s house were bombarded with the flailing power lines during a storm.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Despite having multiple sewages, the discipline of the people of the community do not abide with the cleanliness laws implemented hence, the susceptibility to floods.
Moreover, the streets have an irregular pattern to it—every street having an inclination below the central street of the barangay. This is also a cause due to the flow of rainfall from the central street to the residential streets.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
In our area, there is a steep bridge-like hill that goes from one street to the other and as mentioned, the flow of rainfall causes the flood. Everyone living within the barangay is affected heavily due to the inevitability of flood to enter the house. This leads to sicknesses, loss of possession, and so much more.
The only safe places to go to are the establishments on the central streets of the barangay due to them being placed on higher streets. In addition, it was recommended to just stay indoors as much as possible during the typhoons that occur very often in our country.
Tumblr media
Under the hill was a river that swiftly rises during typhoon days. This is the most dangerous place, Mr. Saquilayan, said. As seen in the photo, many people live right beside this river which extends up to farther than this photo can capture.
Tumblr media
Just last night, after minutes of a light to moderate downfall of rain, it started to flood.
However, if this happened a few years ago, the flood would’ve reached the inside of houses already but with the barangay’s persistent activities, a solution was made.
One thing that they did was to fix the water drainage system in the streets, along with the separation of stray littered garbage from it. They cleaned out the pipelines and made them more spacious in order for clogging to be prevented. Also, back in 2015, they made a program wherein garbage cans were made more accessible and more fun by stylizing them into basketball ring-like structures.
After the typhoons and such, the barangay officials make sure to visit every street to see the end result of the disaster. Usually, only clean-ups were done due to the littered trash.
REFLECTION, SYNTHESIS, AND ANALYSIS
To describe my community, one word is in mind: thriving. In comparison to my previous years of living within that barangay, everything is much better now. From its resilience after disasters to the safety of the people due to the refined DRRM planning. Moreover, the barangay has a public hospital that provides free check-ups and emergency calls. However, there are still points of improvement—places that are still hazardous—such as places near the river, places wherein drainage systems haven’t been refined yet, and places that have lamp posts which have numerous tangled power lines. Also, the public hospital for the barangay is booked and busy most of the times due to the population within the barangay. For the past few years, the DRRM team of the barangay considered an increasing success rate due to the lessening of casualties after every disaster.
An issue that the barangay is facing as of now is the lack of preparedness during other natural disaster, to name one: earthquake. During the community walk, I saw that almost all of the structures in the barangay have weak foundations, inefficient materials, and cracking walls. The barangay hasn’t been paying much focus to that aspect due to the lack of massive and destructive earthquakes in the area. In solution to this, as I suggested to the interviewee, there should be multiple evacuation, safety, and preparedness plans for every disaster; not just for floods. Effective research and excellent execution are the things that can and will save an entire community.
To quote what Sir Richard said “Ang problema kasi sa Pilipinas ay naka-focus lang sa relief goods pagtapos ng bagyo, hindi tinitignan yung kung pano maging safe yung mga tao before, during, at after nito.” I think he made a really great point in this due to the fact that Filipinos do not learn properly from the disasters that we face. We learn only a portion of the lesson that needs to be embedded in our minds for longevity and resilience.
A realization that came into mind is the dire importance of DRRM planning in every barangay. Having lived in three different barangays in my life, I saw how one with good planning and execution affects not only the physical appearance of the place but also the people of the community. I chose this barangay specifically due to the improvement I noticed. Moreover, I also saw how important it is to have a plan that is inclusive—one that caters to everyone especially the marginalized due to the extra help that they require.
Issues like these require attention because of the people they affect. Disasters hit everyone and living in a society where detrimental diversity is prominent, the poor and the marginalized experience the consequences the most and have almost little to no means of resilience. One way to address this is to conduct talks that piques people’s interest despite its inclination towards the topic of DRRM. People need to realize that survival does not happen during the disaster, it is also observed before and after one. Furthermore, we need to use our privilege and participate in different activities that spread awareness about this issue to those who are less privileged.
2 notes · View notes
Text
I Dream In Colour chapter 1: In Any Universe
https://archiveofourown.org/works/20335819/chapters/48217375
Jim sat up suddenly in bed, panting, his eyes wide open. 
Even in the darkness of his quarters, the colours in front of his eyes were almost blinding. He screwed them shut, opened them again and blinked slowly, waiting for the bright sea of colour to lessen. 
Shore leave would begin tomorrow, and he knew now more than ever where he needed to go. It was a gut feeling. But he wasn’t sure how well he’d be received and what would happen next. 
Lights out,” he said as he laid down again, hoping that the darkness would stay dark long enough to get some sleep. 
******
“You’re not coming?” McCoy asked him at the Starbase the next day. The Enterprise had docked primarily for shore leave but a couple of minor repairs were going to be done also and Scotty had insisted on staying aboard for now  to oversee things. Jim was pretty sure he’d marry the ship if he could. 
“I’ll join you later, tomorrow probably. There’s somewhere I need to be.”
McCoy’s brow furrowed. “You sure you’re ok?”
“I’m fine, Bones.” Jim smiled broadly and patted him on the arm. “There’s just something I have to do.”
McCoy looked doubtful but to Jim’s surprise and relief, he left it at that. 
“Just let me know when you’re back and we can hit that bar I was telling you about.”
“I will.” Jim was still smiling as he turned around and headed off to catch a shuttle. “And make sure Chekov brings ID,” he called out over his shoulder. “Last time we all went out the bouncers thought he was twelve!” 
“Dammit, Jim, I’m a doctor not a babysitter!” 
*****
It was nearly evening when he arrived at his destination, straightening his uniform and checking his reflection in the glass front door before knocking on it.
“Jim?”
“No James T. Kirk this time?”
“Jim seems more appropriate now. To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure of your visit?”  The elder of the two Spock’s in Jim’s life glanced down to the duffel bag bearing the Starfleet insignia that Jim was holding. 
The younger man followed his gaze and laughed lightly. “Don’t worry, I’m not homeless. We’re on shore leave so I just thought I’d drop by and…” he hesitated and Spock tilted his head just slightly to one side, watching him search for the right words.   “...visit.” Jim finished simply with a smile, going with Spock’s choice of word. 
Spock nodded and moved aside for Jim to come in. The door led almost directly into the small but ample kitchen which opened out into a spacious living room. 
“Would you like some coffee?”
"That'd be great, thank you." Jim went through, taking in the singular armchair, long sofa and shelves lined with books about Vulcan history and a couple in languages that Jim vaguely recognised from classes at the academy when he hadn’t been paying enough attention.  
“I’m sorry I didn’t call ahead and tell you I was coming. It was a spur of the moment sort of thing,” he said when Spock emerged with a tray carrying a mug of tea for himself and coffee for Jim. 
“Apologies are not necessary, it is good to see you again. I am, however, intrigued.” Spock set the tray down on the low coffee table and sat in the sleek armchair opposite Jim on the sofa. 
“Can’t a guy drop by his new old friend’s house for a surprise visit?” Jim put on his best dazzling smile, the one that usually got him out of most kinds of trouble.
“Jim, I have known some version of you long enough to know when you’re not telling me everything.”
Jim‘s dazzling smile evolved into a rueful one, as if he'd been caught out by someone who knew him better than he knew himself. “I've been...having dreams.”
Spock arched an eyebrow. “And what is the nature of these dreams?”
“It’s hard to explain. They started before everything with Nero. From my end anyway.  I mean….I think the timing works out that I started having them when you came through the black hole."
There was no mistaking the surprise on Spock's face, but his voice was as calm and even as Jim had ever heard it. “What takes place in them?” 
“I’m not sure how to describe it. Nothing actually happens. No people, no talking. Just colour.  Intense colour, so intense it burns my eyes. Blue and yellow. No, more like gold. And they merge together but…they don’t change. I mean that should turn everything kinda green right? But they just stay like that. The two colours fit, perfectly together and if anything they each get brighter.”
Spock nodded slowly, taking a moment before he spoke. “You are far too insightful and intelligent not to have figured out what these dreams seem to symbolise.”
“I don’t know for sure.”
“But that’s why you’re here, for confirmation.” 
”I guess I am, yeah.” Jim nodded as he spoke. 
“The science officer and captain’s uniforms were the same colour in my Starfleet as here in yours,” Spock said, anticipating Jim’s question before he could even ask it. He sighed heavily. “It is possible that something slipped through in the mind meld I performed in the cave. Something more than the initial emotional transference. It had been some time since I had last engaged in a meld and my mental shields may not be as fortified as they once were. I am sorry, Jim, if I have caused any of your distress.” 
Jim shook his head. “This wasn’t your fault. It was already happening. For whatever reason." He met Spock's eyes, looking into them as if they were the only place left in the galaxy to look. "It’s like...I knew you were coming." He held Spock's gaze for a few moments more before closing his eyes and shaking his head as he looked away, chuckling lightly. "This sounds ridiculous. I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't have come here." 
"On the contrary, I think this is the only place you could have come." Spock's small smile was kind, comforting. The kind of smile people didn't usually aim at Jim Kirk, and any thought he had of just upping and leaving right now instantly disappeared. 
"There was actually a flash of something in the meld. Not an image, just a...feeling. A good one but…not familiar. And...and it…" Jim hesitated, but Spock inclined his head, brow arched just slightly, as if the end of this sentence was the final line of a book that couldn't be left unwritten. 
"...It felt like you took my hand.”
There was something in Spock’s expression that Jim couldn’t read. Expressions would be more accurate: sadness, confusion, a wistful smile. Jim wondered if he even saw a glimmer of hope on his face. But they were all just glimpses, micro-expressions even on the face of this older Vulcan who was more emotive and readable than his younger self. 
Jim decided to ask the question that had been on his mind during so many of his sleepless nights, the one he knew he’d really come here to ask. “Were you and the other Jim Kirk...together?” 
“We were. Though I would have used a different term. T’hyla .”
“What does that mean?” Jim asked, feeling like he already knew the answer.
“There is no direct translation into English but the closest description would be -“
“Soulmate?”
“Indeed.”
Jim exhaled and nodded. “Wow. I mean, I guessed but...wow. “ He leaned back on the sofa, rubbing his eyes with one hand and holding his coffee cup in the other, the warmth radiating from it comforting and grounding him as he tried to make sense of everything. 
“You are tired, Jim.”
“Yeah, well I haven’t been getting much sleep.”
“It would be advisable for you to try and rest while you are on leave.” 
Jim nodded in agreement, not even trying to stifle a yawn. “I’m gonna stay at the Starfleet embassy in town tonight, catch a shuttle back later tomorrow. Hopefully, we can talk more before I go?”
“I have a guest room that has never been used and is unlikely to be. You are welcome to stay here.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am. And it would give us more time to speak about the dreams.”
“Thank you.” Jim smiled and yet again he was met with the same small, comforting smile in response. 
“Let me show you upstairs and I’ll make a start on dinner while you rest." Spock rose gracefully from his chair and Jim followed him, picking up his duffel bag. 
“Making sure I eat properly too, you’re starting to sound like Bones. But less…"
“Persistent?”
“I was gonna say shouty but we’ll go with your diplomatic version.” 
“A wise decision.”
Jim grinned and Spock opened the guest room door, showing him in. 
“I’ll just get settled and come help you with dinner.”
“You are a guest, it would be customary for me to make you dinner and for you to simply consume it if is acceptable.” There was a playful smile on his lips, which was not what Jim was used to seeing on the face of a Vulcan. Although he only knew one other Vulcan.
“Was the other me prone to being customary ?”
“He was not.” 
“Well, there’s an old earth saying, ‘you can’t teach an old dog new tricks’. I guess that was written for me, all versions of me.” Jim’s smile was playful too and, he had to admit, almost flirtatious.  “Besides, I’d like to help.” He hadn’t ‘helped’ in the kitchen since he was little and would watch his mother making meals from scratch then insist on stirring or mixing something for her. She would smile and scoop him up, letting him sit on the counter and help, even taste the food before it was ready. But those times had been few and soon stopped altogether. 
“Very well.”
Spock turned to head back downstairs as Jim walked through the door, leaving it half-open behind him. But the temptation was, to his surprise, too much and he soundlessly turned back, watching Jim for a few seconds as he dropped his duffel bag on the bed and went to to the large window, smiling at the view. The younger man stretched, rolling his shoulders and yawning again before taking a plain grey t-shirt from his bag and starting to pull off the Starfleet one he was wearing.
Only then did Spock turn around, making his way back downstairs to the kitchen.
4 notes · View notes
alteredphoenix · 5 years
Text
Red Fruit (WIP)(Sailor Moon/Madoka novelette)
A/N: This is an old WIP from July 10, 2015, as part of a crossover series between Sailor Moon and Madoka Magica, in an AU in which (and I put this in the simplest terms possible, because 2015!AlteredPhoenix was and still is super big on metaphysics and ontology) the cast of Madoka existed in a more high fantasy/military fantasy, Warcraft-inspired version of the Silver Millennium and were also reincarnated in the present day but in a separate timeline outside the Sailor Moon continuum. In this AU, all the planets of the universe were Earth-like and existed within their own Dyson Sphere, but the fall of the Millennium and Queen Serenity’s sacrifice (here described as an event called the Diaspora that is remembered now only by the remnants of the Mau race that exist in the shadows) saw the natural balance of life and death torn asunder and persist in atmospheres that they are known for today.
When constructing the series (which went under the name “Until We Meet Again”, although that version is old and discontinued, but is planned to be salvaged in some capacity and can be read on Fanfiction.net), my goal was to make the girls of Madoka deviatory from their canon personalities. Here Kyoko is a nondenominational girl that is very much anti-police and anti-establishment. She does not have faith in the pantheon of Mars and cares little for the interplanetary affairs that prelude the war that would destroy the Golden Age of the Silver Millennium. This fic would have her be put in the crosshairs of Mars’ law force and see her sentenced to serve as a pack mule to Endymion and his Four Guardians as they go on a mission (that I can’t remember the life of me what it was).
This mission would change Kyoko’s worldview and mold her as the person she is depicted in canon, and would carry over into the main AU story in the present, post-Rebellion world that would see her and Sayaka jump through timelines trying to reclaim Goddess!Madoka from hiding from Devil Homura’s hunt to recapture her.
(Mami would be elsewhere in the present day Sailor Moon timeline (which, at the time of that story, “A Passing Glance”, set it around 2017), infected with a parasitic version of Walpurgisnacht that is only held at bay by Nagisa’s watchful eye and the hope that Rei will purge and cauterize the blight before it overcomes Mami.)
-
“I thought you said you weren’t interested in seeing them?” said the voice, and Kyoko nearly dropped the apple she was holding.
Tightening her grip on it, she glanced behind her to see Mami and her damn pleated fan, unfolded to display a watercolor scene of flying fish with their oval mouths open to swallow the stars; a sleepy, rural village basked beneath a sky full of alien moons. It was a surreal image, one she did not understand, and staring at it for too long made her nerves itch in the way sliding a rusted nail down a used chalkboard would. “With all the noise they’re making, it’s hard not to ignore them,” she said, and peered over the balcony. “Look how garish they dress! Are they supposed to be soldiers or stoplights?”
Mami joined her and studied the cavalcade of men marching down the cobblestone road. She studied their uniforms for a moment—sharp, finely-pressed plated suits ranging from black to royal blue to ashy grey. “They look like they could blend right in at night.”
“Not those guys! The ones grouped around tall, dark, and pale.” Kyoko nodded their way, just as they were crossing beneath them.
Mami finally saw the quintet and nodded. “Ah, Prince Endymion and his Four Heavenly Kings. I don’t see King Aethlius among them. He must be in the Basilica with the other dignitaries and magistrates.”
“I don’t care about the King or any of that drivel!”
“Then what troubles you?”
“Just look! They’re not wearing any helmets! They’re not blending with the rest of the crowd! A sniper could put a round in every one of their heads and they wouldn’t even know what hit them!”
Mami watched the rest of the procession arrive. “I highly doubt an enemy of the state would risk his life attempting an assassination with this many people.” She waved the fan airily at her face. “We can’t see them from this angle, more or less be able to even if we tried, but the Talonites are all around us. They know all the secret places of the Forum as well as the Eternal Flame knows all about them.”
“So say I throw this apple at blondie there,” Kyoko said, pointing at one of the Kings with short, wavy hair the color of wheat. “Or that guy with the bleached roots.” She indicated a taller male towering over his brothers and Prince. “Would the gods see fit to cast a compulsion on their warrior-priests and make me spontaneously combust with a snap of their fingers? Or perhaps someone will jump out of these very shadows and turn me into a pile of ash with a single swipe of his uchiwa?”
“Any and all threats will be dealt with, depending on how severe the order the High Priests gives them,” said Mami. “If I were you, I wouldn’t waste precious food.” She leveled a pointed stare at the bag of apples pressed against the other girl’s chest.
Kyoko scoffed. “It’s not wasting food. It’s sustenance and makes for good ammunition.” She sank her teeth into the fruit and chewed.
Mami sighed. “Not only would you face possible death to the warrior-priests, the local merchants would have your head if they hear about it.”
“Why should they? There’s plenty of arable land, and no one’s howling for blood this year. Human sacrifices are so last millennium.”
“The Republic of Mars hasn’t been ‘howling for blood’ in over seventy-five years, since before the King’s father Aeolus passed away,” Mami groaned. “Must you always sleep through history, Kyoko?”
“None of that matters to me,” she said, and dropped the apple core into the bag; she was not about to incur Mami’s ire over leaving her spoils in a place that wasn’t a container or trash receptacle. “It shouldn’t matter to you, either. You’re not from here so that’d be understandable. But why should I go through all the trouble learning about the history of the Alliance when it’s written by gods-fearing victors?”
“You shouldn’t say that!” Mami shouted, and started, surprised at her outburst. Her cheeks coloring, she looked over the balcony and saw that the retinue had come and gone. She breathed a sigh of relief. “Need I remind you the consequences for spouting heresy?”
Kyoko rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes, I’ve heard it all: the forty lashes, exile by vote of majority, the public stoning, the burning at the stake. ‘S nothing new.”
“You can’t just say stuff like that in a place like the Republic, especially in a region that boasts the highest population of Talonites and religious adherents on the entire planet.”
“I’m entitled to my rights just as much as the next person.” She pulled another apple out of the bag, polished it off against her shirt, and took a hefty bite from it. “’Tough titty,’ said the kitty.”
“Kyoko,” said Mami, and the tone of her voice was like tempered steel, “you’ve been warned twice by the political police. If it happens one more time,” her eyebrows knotted worryingly. “If it happens one more time,” she pushed on, more softly, “we’ll never see each other again.”
Kyoko stopped, no longer feeling hungry. She sighed, dropped the apple into the bag and wiped her hand of its juices against the brown paper. “Mami—“
“Have you ever stopped and wondered what your family thinks about you?” Mami asked suddenly. “What your neighbors must think? When they see you with the heretics, the non-believers, taking to the streets, wreaking havoc and disrupting the peace with your beliefs, what do you think goes through their minds?”
Kyoko’s mouth went dry, her tongue arid as the red deserts that lend credence to Mars’ name. For one brief, absurd moment, she kicked herself for not having brought something to relieve her thirst. “Hey now…I’ve never actually hurt anyone. The ones that incite all the riots and clashes with the police…I’m not part o’ that crowd.”
“But surely you were a part of them?”
“Well, when I’m tryin’ to get away from everything, then yeah, I have to push and shove my way through. I’ve gotten into a few scraps, but it’s not like I cause them. There’s a reason for getting off scot-free and claiming self-defense by having the aggressor throw the first punch.”
“And for everything else? Do you put a halt to evening traffic and topple vehicles to delay the opposition in their pursuit? Do you fight back with restricted magic as per the laws of the Basilica Carta? Do you vandalize holy sites like the Face of Vulcan? Have you been injured by a Talonite and asked yourself ‘I will give unto him what he has given unto me tenfold’?”
“I don’t regret what I do,” Kyoko said testily. “I’ve been beaten and kicked like a sack of rice while being pinned down and bound by spellweavers. I’ve been sent to jail and harassed by officers and prisoners alike that my efforts weren’t worth the trouble. I nearly had my hair burnt to a crisp by one of those priestly chaps. Hell, at one point I got trampled by my like-minded brothers and sisters making a hasty retreat and almost died.”
“But have you?” Mami snapped the fan closed and jabbed it under the girl’s nose.
Kyoko growled and swiped at it, but Mami was faster and pulled away before the fan could be ripped from her grasp. “So what if I have? I’m human! I don’t claim to be perfect or a saint! Not like you,” she grumbled the last part.
“I am as imperfect and sinful as you are,” Mami said, frowning tiredly. “As are the free peoples of the Alliance and the far-flung races of the known universe. But you must be careful, Kyoko! The sons and daughters of Kagutsuchi will not tolerate any more of your antics.”
“They’re not antics! And I’m not afraid of those flame-worshipping lapdogs. They’re going to have to do more than dress like festival dancers to scare me.”
“You’ll be scared when they come into your house one night and drag you out—by force—to the execution grounds,” Mami snapped, and then, more softly, “No amount of pleading on the behalf of your family will sway them to ignore the Word bestowed by their elders…or that of the Eternal Flame. Peace, Kyoko, must be maintained…and you’re not helping.”
Kyoko sighed, ran a hand through her hair. “Nothing’s gonna happen to me, Mami.”
“I want to believe that,” she said, turning away. She looked out beyond the conical spires of the high-rises, past the cupolas and lighted braziers of the Church of the King of the Hunt, to the horizon. It looked like rain, and where there was rain there would be lightning and thunder, and there would be fire. Vicious, hungry fire, dancing and out of control. “I want to, but I can’t bring myself to. Something’s got to give.”
“You mean something I’ve got to give.” And she wasn’t going to. Not her beliefs. Not her cause. Not her life. Nothing.
“How else are you going to stop them? It’s either that or you’ll die.” Mami looked at Kyoko, and her face was long and haggard and sorrowful. “And I don’t want you to die. I will heal any injuries you might sustain or ease any anger or worries you might have, but I can’t cure death.”
“Ah, yes. Death. The Talonites can stamp out religious persecution and all manner of crime, but they can’t stop what’s inevitable.” Kyoko gathered the bag in both arms and, putting all her weight into her haunches, pushed herself onto the balls of her feet and rose. She joined Mami at the balcony and breathed in a lungful of air through her nose. The air was charged, thick and heavy with the coming downpour. It was pure and refreshing, but it was nothing like the smoky, sulfurous odor flames were wont to exude. “Kinda ironic, isn’t it?”
Mami nodded. “Aye. But for the phoenix that builds its nest atop the tallest mountain and sets itself ablaze, it rises anew from the ashes.”
“It’s just a bird,” Kyoko scoffed.
Mami sighed and pressed the tip of the fan to her forehead, brow furrowed in resignation. “Once again, you fail to see my point. Kyoko, I won’t ask you to promise me not to get into any more trouble than you already are…but at the very least try to stay out of it. I’m not always going to be there for you when you need a place to hide or words to whitewash any misgivings. I’m only here until summer’s end and—”
“’I won’t be here forever.’ I get it. Thanks for the warning, Mom.” Kyoko quashed the guilt skewering her breast at the hurt that flashed across Mami’s face. She couldn’t let that bother her. Not here, and especially not in front of Mami. She could feel like shit later, away from everything in the privacy of her home.
“Very well,” Mami said calmly, stiffly. “I entrust you to be on your…ahem, best behavior. As you were.” She stuck the fan into her waistband and glided past Kyoko, as a skimmer does on the surface of a still lake.
1 note · View note
discotreque · 6 years
Text
2x03 Point of Light
Stardate 1029.46:
So Tilly’s mom was the reason they moved around a lot. Was Awful Mom Tilly a Starfleet captain??
Michael’s face is so soft when she looks at Tilly, I could die 
“Congratulations, you’re amazing” yeah they’re girlfriends
I guess everyone’s just calling Joann “Owo” now??? Owosekun is a really beautiful name so I’m kind of 👎on it, but also Pike is calling the crew by nicknames and that’s adorable
When I was a kid, I built a model of the Klingon D7 battle cruiser, and it always makes me so happy to see it on screen
I am 1031% on board for Badass Spy Amanda Grayson
“Was she this bossy as a kid?” “On Vulcan, we call it persistent, and yes. She was. She learned that from me.” AMANDAAA
Pike explicitly orders Burnham to decrypt Spock’s medical macguffin zip disk. Nobody sticks their neck out around Christopher Pike without him sticking his neck out twice as far to cover you.
I like that they’re addressing how fucked up it would be for human Amanda and half-human Spock to have to have suppressed their emotions on Vulcan, but jeeeeez, did it need to be this fucked up?
That holo-call scene between Michael and Ash ripped my whole entire heart out of my chest
That cut to two EXTREMELY non-human Starfleet officers reacting to Tilly’s meltdown on the bridge, oh my gosh
This baby is going to come back next season as a fully articulate 12-year-old
I MISSED ASH TYLER A LOT AND I’M REALLY GLAD HE’S BACK
Okay Michael what the fuck did you do to Spock
“I’ll find him.” “No. I will.” AMANDAAAAAAAAA
It says a lot about how unpredictable this show is that I was fully prepared for Ash and L’Rell wacky parenting hijinks? Like in retrospect that was never going to happen, but for a moment I actually believed
“What’s wrong? Have you been crying?” “I asked first.” THEY. ARE. GIRLFRIENDS.
My least favourite thing is television characters keeping secrets from each other, so Tilly actually telling Michael about May the first chance she got was like a cool balm to my soul
The Klingon blood in that (epic) fight scene was kind of purple? But it really didn’t look enough like Pepto-Bismol to be consistent with Star Trek VI, so I’m going to have to call bullshit on that one, sorry
This fucklord is the least honourable Klingon in 50-odd years of canon, but did we really need to see his intestines?
Captain Saru in Season 3 or we fucking riot
What a devastating indictment of masculinity, that the only way the male Klingons can accept a female leader is as their literal Mom
I wish we could have kept Prime Georgiou, but Michelle Yeoh is loving every single second playing the evil ex-emperor, and I am here for her enthusiasm
TIG IS BACK NEXT WEEK
13 notes · View notes