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yahtzee63's fabulous Journey to Drabble, I bring you the ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif?v=92.2){kind=small}
where_no_woman drabble challenge. I hope this will inspire our whole community to produce more fiction about ST's many fierce and fabulous female characters. Rules are below, and prompts are under the cut.1) Prompts are not exclusive. There is no limit on the number of people who may write about a prompt, and there is no need to claim prompts.
2) Post responses in the comments and include the number & name of your prompt in the subject line. If the story is too long for comments, you may post it elsewhere and comment with the link.
3) Responses may be any length from a proper 100-word drabble to a multi-chapter epic.
4) There is no time limit for this challenge.
5) Although I did not post any pairing-specific prompts, this is not exclusively a gen fic challenge. If a romantic relationship will help illuminate the identity of your character, please feel free to write about one.
6) Please leave feedback, respond to feedback, and pimp this post around.
Edited to add: I updated the prompt list with a link to each response so that you can browse for stories about the prompts that interest you. Feel free to continue writing, especially if you want to answer unfilled prompts. Indexing is complete as of 7/04/09. You're welcome to continue responding if you like, but I will not be updating the index again.
These prompts focus on Reboot characters, with a couple TOS thrown in, like Nurse Chapel and Number 1. If someone would like to make a separate challenge post for characters from other series, I'm sure our moderator
sainfoin_fields would let you.1. Amanda, grief
2. Amanda, opportunity
3. Amanda, ride my decision into the night
by sainfoin_fields
4. Amanda, articulate
by blcwriter
5. Amanda, first fight
by possibly_thrice
6. Chapel, practical
by r_becca
7. Chapel, behind the scenes
by themadlurker
8. Chapel, good judgment comes from experience and experience comes from bad judgment
9. Chapel, respect
by seren_ccd
10. Chapel, underestimated
by forthisreason
11. ex-Mrs. McCoy, forgiveness
by possibly_thrice
12. ex-Mrs. McCoy, dead on arrival
by latropita
by blcwriter
by elorie
13. ex-Mrs. McCoy, before
by shiny_rosie
by sainfoin_fields
14. ex-Mrs. McCoy, dancing
15. ex-Mrs. McCoy, achievement
by themadlurker
16. Gaila, moment of personal victory
17. Gaila, another notch in my lipstick case
18. Gaila, Tokyo
by saturn_a_gogo
by snowlight
19. Gaila, baking
by saturn_a_gogo
20. Gaila, intellect
by yahtzee63
21. Joanna McCoy, roots and wings
by loneraven
22. Joanna McCoy, Atlanta
by mllesays
23. Joanna McCoy, rebellion
by rawles
by breathingbooks
24. Joanna McCoy, boobs
by sainfoin_fields
25. Joanna McCoy, in over her head
26. Number 1, moment of weakness
by taraljc
27. Number 1, bitch
by taraljc
28. Number 1, red lipstick
by kayim
by taraljc
by igrockspock
29. Number 1, settling
by taraljc
by florahart
30. Number 1, arduous
by taraljc
31. Uhura, fierce
by thistlerose
32. Uhura, sacrifice
33. Uhura, wanderlust
by seren_ccd
34. Uhura, breaking point
by forthisreason
35. Uhura, fool me twice
by kh_mattie
40. Winona, experimentation
by igrockspock
41. Winona, don't pin me down
by jadediva
by igrockspock
by sainfoin_fields
42. Winona, adequate
by possibly_thrice
43. Winona, awe
by dafnap
44. Winona, unsung
by jncar
yahtzee63 provided the helpful information that the former Mrs. McCoy was called Jocelyn Treadway in TOS. Although I hate reducing a woman to the name of her ex-husband, I was afraid to call her anything else in the prompts for fear that people wouldn't know who she was. But, it's good to know that she has a name!Have fun!
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June 24 2009, 02:12:48 UTC 2 years ago
BTW, the ex-Mrs. McCoy, at least in TOS, was Jocelyn Treadway.
June 24 2009, 02:16:56 UTC 2 years ago
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June 24 2009, 02:47:06 UTC 2 years ago
21. Joanna McCoy, roots and wings
Joanna was the only girl in her class who got letters from the stars.She was also the only one who forgot about Show and Tell, so she got up in front of the class and spread her arms and said, "I show you... the Earth." She was the only one they laughed at.
She was the only one of them to go into space at seventeen; they wanted workers on New Vulcan, to come for food and board and a hard, fast education, and she looked back at the wraiths of cloud on the planet she was born on and thought about flying, about new worlds. She wasn't the only one who cried her first night out, but she was the first one to stop.
The Vulcans taught her, and worked with her, and showed her an austere, warm kindness, and when she thanked them they said, "Your service honours us", but she was never quite on eye level and when it rained she was the last to know. When the time came to leave, she rose to planetary orbit in a tiny shuttle with large curved windows, and looked down to the planet's surface, and it wasn't the first time she'd left home.
She was first in her class at the Academy. She was not the first woman to be first; but she read her history so she would know who was. The week she graduated, she received only one subspace communication.
She was the only woman to speak at the memorial service for Leonard McCoy. She was the only one to swear. Afterwards, she was not the only one to linger, nor the only one to knock back three shot of bourbon and throw her head up to stare at the sky, stars hectic and brilliant in her gaze.
That night, she was not left alone; they got her home safe, and they left a glass of water by her bed. In the morning, she was the only one to be late and hungover in receiving her posting, and she was not the first to find a new life among the stars.
She was not the first chief medical officer aboard a flagship, but she still had her letters.
June 24 2009, 02:52:06 UTC 2 years ago
Re: 21. Joanna McCoy, roots and wings
Love this! It's sad, but it's very believable.Of course, I want her to have had a Vulcan boyfriend (or girlfriend!) on New Vulcan, so she could bring her S.O. home to meet Dad, and make him drink.
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June 24 2009, 03:00:01 UTC 2 years ago
5. Amanda, first fight
This is how it goes:His fingers on the curve of her head, nails catching on her hair. His mouth trembling. They are standing somewhere high up, alone.
She has just kissed him.
"I am not your associate, Ambassador," she says aloud, while her eyes brim with jittery images, superimposed on his still face. The articulation is an effort when his thoughts are unfolding like paper cranes and pressure builds behind her temples, but she does not slur. "I am not a logical choice of companion. What I have done to you is utterly inappropriate and I will not apologize."
She can see where the cords in his wrist tighten.
"And you know that," she says. "Or you would not be doing this to me."
Sarek slices across her like a hot knife through ice and she glories in the pain lacing his voice, echoing inside her cranium. I am doing this because it appears to be the only way to make you understand that what you ask of me is impossible, Ms. Grayson. It is not a full mind-meld and does not imply any of the intimacy connected therewith --
Traditions uncoiling like flowers in the rain, not half so lovely as the mind expects. She chooses to think she is graceful about shunting them aside, reeling him in.
"Then I will make it so," she says, and leans in. His fingers slip, and she sees that he was watching her wrists, an hour ago.
No.
"Yes."
The silence that ensues is soft and wet.
June 24 2009, 03:20:58 UTC 2 years ago
Re: 5. Amanda, first fight
Ooooh, intriguing. I like this very assertive Amanda.2 years ago
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June 24 2009, 03:42:20 UTC 2 years ago
18. Gaila, Tokyo
Sex is her thing. She's good at it. She loves it. Sex will always be her thing. And it's good. And once, it was enough.And then one day, it just...wasn't. One day she looked up at the sky and instead of seeing stars she saw strange new worlds. Strange new worlds to be explored. Strange new worlds where she could be more than just a girl who was really good at sex. Strange new worlds populated by really hot bodies that she could sleep with. On her own terms.
And so she left. Wasn't easy, but then again, what is?
And now she's in a bar in Tokyo, tracing a finger around the rim of her beer. She looks up from her drink. A guy sitting at a table across from her is staring at her openly. She knows he wants her. But does she want him? She almost giggles at that, the choice. The choice to have or not to have.
And since she is who she is, she chooses to have.
They stumble out of the bar together, laughing. She wraps her arm around his back and lets her hand slip down to his ass. He gives her a shy smile and she feels like she can do anything.
She glances up to search for the stars, but can't see them through the haze of the Tokyo lights. She frowns for a second, then shrugs. She doesn't need the stars anymore. She's found her strange new world.
And it's just like honey.
June 24 2009, 03:52:28 UTC 2 years ago
Re: 18. Gaila, Tokyo
I was hoping someone would choose this prompt! This is my exact favorite Gaila - a woman who has a lot of sex, but only as a genuine expression of who she is.2 years ago
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June 24 2009, 05:03:35 UTC 2 years ago
24. Joanna McCoy, boobs [300 words, NSFW]
You'd think the best things in life would be the easiest to advertise, or at least the ones with the best publicity, but as time went by Joanna discovered that wasn't the case. Starfleet press trumpeted the humanitarian effort, the noble adventure, and even her dad eventually admitted, "It's worth doing." But there's no propaganda devoted to the satisfaction of being light years away from everything that's ever hurt you or made you feel trapped, the strange kinship you develop with emptiness itself. "FUCK GRAVITY" — a new ad campaign, courtesy Joanna McCoy. Starfleet could have that one for free.They didn't advertise the joys of space booze or space babes, either, though Joanna suspected that was an omission her dad made on purpose.
And so it was with boobs, too: she knew they were supposed to be great, the pinnacle of human female anatomy, but they weren't much more than annoyances for her until she got her hands on a pair that wasn't a practice model under her knife and wasn't weighing her down when she went jogging. She traded in seventeen years of male gaze bullshit — boobs attached to women, never part of them — for personal perspective and they turned out to be awesome: her own at the light touch of a caressing hand, her first girlfriend's smaller ones beneath Joanna's uncertain tongue, Professor Imahara's sheathed in her black officer's uniform.
Freedom from an atmosphere that had only ever kept her down; keeping the galaxy safe from xenoviruses and rogue warbirds alike; shucking soft-focus fantasies for delightfully real and firm-to-the-touch boobs: Joanna fucked gravity as often as possible every way she knew how, and if it wasn't the experience she thought she was in for, at least she'd come prepared for a lifetime of surprises.
June 24 2009, 05:20:09 UTC 2 years ago
Re: 24. Joanna McCoy, boobs [300 words, NSFW]
I was curious to see what people might do with this prompt, and I really like your response. It's creative and fun to read!2 years ago
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June 24 2009, 05:28:12 UTC 2 years ago
29. Number 1, settling
It's maddening that a lousy badly-set shattered kneecap knocked her out of consideration. Maddening, and bad luck; she knows the reallocation of senior staff to fill in amongst the cadets was done hurriedly, and that under any other circumstances, Enterprise would have gone to her. It's nothing personal.And really, she knows she was lucky to get out of Vulcan's gravity well alive; Exeter herself and two hundred fifty-eight of the kids on her didn't. Wanting Enterprise back is probably selfish, and hell, Chris is right. They need cocky pretty boys sometimes.
It still hurts to watch him take command.
June 24 2009, 07:13:12 UTC 2 years ago
Re: 29. Number 1, settling
Oh, this makes me so sad. :(2 years ago
June 24 2009, 06:10:31 UTC 2 years ago
#43. Winona, awe (1/2)
They aren't even dating yet, much less getting anything farther than talking out of the sides of their mouths while hunched over work. She was at the science station and he the con, and they only had to coordinate with each other to get the readings needed, nothing else.So yes, it was a little strange how easy it is to entangle commands and confirmations with idle questions about childhood and family pets and preferences for microbrews. Along with the coordinates for an adjusted heading along the edges of the nebula being studied, she finds that George Kirk prefers cats to dogs, 21st century classic California rock to anything with a strings section, and hefeweizen to just about anything else.
She completely misses, at the time half her brain processing coordinates and mathematical planes, the implication behind the statement that follows: "Well, okay, maybe I just prefer blondes, mark three on your left, you catch that? Jesus, isn't that something."
Space sparks and flutters and comes suddenly alive with a static burst of the full spectrum of light and information. She says "roger" instead and completely misses the way he keeps looking at her, after confirmation, his mouth quirked in consideration.
She comes to recognize it a little later, even starts to look for it or get it going or abuse it mercilessly, but just then the sky in front of them is unfolding like petals on a flower, sending her board into a disarray of beeps and boops and buzzing lights that makes her dig deeper into the con and her heart beat two-time with wonder.
**
He hadn't forgotten though: the red and blue of the proximity sensors lighting her face, turning the bend of her mouth -- because she was smiling, couldn't help it; because this is why she was here, what she was meant to do -- predatory.
His words, mumbled into her hair very, very much later, while she's trying to catch her breath against the warm, sweat filmed skin of his neck.
"It was kind of hot."
She grumbles into his chest something about "that was a once-in-a-lifetime astral phenomena," like it excuses anything and she feels warmth along her scalp because he is giggling helplessly into her hair.
So yeah, she felt it safe, then, to count herself lucky, then.
**
It still takes a few months for the realization that George Kirk is kind of a handsome devil, to dig itself through layers PADDs and sensor records and grant applications and the sheer scope of the work she loved.
First she realizes: they work pretty well together. And then she realizes: he always seemed to be in the mess around the same time her stomach would care to remind that she was mortal and that food was handy in staying conscious long enough to get her reports in and filed. Mostly she settles on: his ass.
She asks him out a little later after this realization and he grins and says, "Which means what, exactly?"
"Dinner, I think. Usually. According to Ancient Earth custom."
"And just what have we been doing all this time?"
He had an excellent point and Winona doesn't mind conceding said point and tells him so. He grins like he has won an argument she wasn't are of them having ("It was just a clarifying of terms." "Uh huh." "I totally knew." "Sure.") and they agree to dinner in the mess together again the next day, the only distinct differences being:
1) It's a promise, not a happy accident, but not really, jeez you are dense, Lieutenant.
2) He holds the right to pull her chair out for her, if if the result is blinding embarrassment in front of officers and crewmen alike.
So it's a surprise that it lasts, an even bigger one that she doesn't get bored or he doesn't seem to feel like he has to compete with her PADDs or her lab or her work. She doesn't tell him "thank you" in so many words, but she doesn't try and find them either. Why to quantify what they have -- she's happy leaving it the unknown in their relationship, he the control, her the variable so it can keep working.
And it does: it works, it works, it works until five years later, and the Kelvin and the freak electrical storm on the edges of Federation space and her curiosity getting the better of all of them, all at once.
**
June 24 2009, 06:13:44 UTC 2 years ago
#43. Winona, awe (2/2)
"It's the study of a lifetime. This area only just now started showing signs of--" She stops herself. She's rambling. Goes quiet, and then: "You don't have to. I mean--""Win."
"You've got your career too, I know, I shouldn't have even asked. I completely understand if--" She doesn't look at him, can't. She's stupidly, supremely grateful in that moment for being shorter, having that ironclad excuse to keep her eyes on his chest and away from the very real risk of disappointment she has already calculated the odds of being written on his face in levels that even her own emotionally stunted brain can register.
"Win." He says it again, and tucks a finger under her chin so her gaze is straight on him. He looks like the next thing he will say he won't be able to take back, like he'll really mean it and therefore it will be true. Actual reality.
Her stomach turns to a miss of sick and she doesn't know what she hates more: that she is going to care, or that she has let herself get to the point where she is even capable of it.
"Yes."
**
So it lasts. It lasts until it can't, until five years later, and the Kelvin and the electrical storm on the edges of Federation space and her curiosity getting the better of all of them, all at once and all her fault. He wouldn't be there if he didn't care; wouldn't be there if she hadn't asked, wouldn't be there if--
If she could believe otherwise, she would. But the data is unmistakable and undeniable and Winona is a scientist first -- before a wife or widow or mother or a whole host of other things she can't quite believe herself to be just then -- so that is what she chooses to remember (her fault), what she doesn't let herself forget (her fault), what she'll never let herself lose sight of: her fault, her fault, her fault.
She remembers space: uncurling out of itself like petals on a flower, electricity arcing in vacuum and her heart beating two-time with wonder, that wide, predatory grin splitting her face until it hurt.
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June 24 2009, 06:19:03 UTC 2 years ago
35. Uhura, fool me twice
Spock/Uhura cause I fail at anything gen lately. :(He told her he didn't love her, and she believed him the first time. It was hard not to, with that blank look on his face and the unreadable line of his lips as he said the words. Swallowing, she had walked away from him; not crying, not breaking down even after she'd left his sight and walked into the safety of her own private quarters. Instead she had wrapped her arms around her elbows and thought, long and hard, as if he was a particularly troublesome translation of which she had never seen the likes of before. In a way, she supposed that was true.
The next day, she walked up to him, watching him as he watched her approach. It was easier to see now that her head was clearer, but there were signs if one knew where to look. There was a light in his eyes that betrayed him, and she fixed on that for her next words.
"I don't believe you," she said, and crossed her arms over her chest. She was so terrified she could feel her heart pounding in her wrists, but she'd never let fear stop her from anything before. She waited for his response, calculating his every facial gesture in a way so Vulcan it was almost amusing, and gave him a second chance.
This time he did not lie.
June 24 2009, 11:51:09 UTC 2 years ago
Re: 35. Uhura, fool me twice
*Love*2 years ago
June 24 2009, 06:26:01 UTC 2 years ago
44. Winona, unsung (1/4)
Fifteen minutes after the Kelvin, Winona thanks God that George Jr. was in Iowa with his Grandmother. She dries her tears, and resolves not to let them come back. She's too damn busy to waste time crying.Nineteen months after the Kelvin Winona is the guest of honor at the ribbon-cutting ceremony for the new Riverside Shipyard in Iowa. She plays her role and smiles at the crowd with a toddler on her hip and a five-year-old clutching her leg. Once the guests at the reception start to disperse she turns the boys over to Grammy Kirk and goes to talk to Captain Jones, the Shipyard's commanding officer.
"So good to have you here, Mrs. Kirk. If there's anything I or my officers can ever do for you and the boys--"
"Yeah." She puts her hands on her hips and locks his eyes with hers. "You can give me a job."
He starts to stammer and she cuts him off again. "Starfleet granted me a two year leave of absence, but I'm itching to get back to work. I'm a damn fine engineer, and I'll be an asset to your team. I'll get you my resumé first thing in the morning. I'd like to start work next week, if possible."
She fends off every excuse he musters, and he finally ends with a weak, pleading argument. "But, you were a ship's officer. Don't you want to go back to that?"
"No." She shakes her head vehemently. "I'm never going back out there. Never."
She starts work five days later.
Nine years after the Kelvin she sits staring incredulously at the face of the young officer on her communications console.
"So," she says, "let me get this straight, Ensign Pike. You want to come out here and spend a few days dredging up all my memories of the day my husband died, just so you can put a more personal touch into your dissertation."
The young officer looks taken aback. "Well…Lieutenant…that's not exactly how I see it."
She shakes her head in disgust. "Find someone else to tell you their tales of glory and tragedy, Ensign. I've got a shipyard to run and a family to raise. I just don't have the time."
She punches the button to end the communication. When he tries to call again four days later, she doesn't even bother to answer.
June 24 2009, 06:27:41 UTC 2 years ago
44. Winona, unsung (2/4)
Thirteen years after the Kelvin, Winona is just finishing her eight-month stint as a consultant on the construction of the new Utopia Planitia Fleet Yards on Mars when she gets an urgent subspace communication from Granny Kirk. George has run away from home, and Jim is in jail.Winona tells Grammy Kirk to try all of George's friends, listing their names, addresses, and communication codes from memory.
"And what about Jim?" asks Grammy. "Will you transfer me the credits to bail him out?"
Winona's lips are tight. "I think I'll talk to him, first."
The sheriff is good enough to let Jim take the subspace call from his mother.
As she expected, Jim is ready with an excuse. "He was going to sell Dad's car! I had to take it!"
"And you had to drive it off a cliff?"
He didn't have an answer for that one. Winona decides to cut through the crap. "Has Frank ever hit you? Did he ever hit George?"
Jim stares at her silently for a minute before frowning and nodding.
"How long has Frank been treating you like this?"
Jim looks away from her. "A long time."
Winona takes a long, deep breath. Frank is a great dancer and a hell of a lover, and she'd never minded his underemployment because that gave him time to help around the house and with the boys when she started working longer hours. She'd thought that the boys needed a strong masculine influence in their lives and that Frank was the right one for the job.
Apparently, she'd been wrong.
"Why didn't you ever tell me?" she asks.
Jim still won't meet her eyes. "We were scared you would take his side."
"Take his side?" She studies his face in disbelief. But he isn't lying. She can see it in his eyes. "Okay, Jim. I'm coming home. I'll take care of things."
The sheriff gets back on the line. "Should I turn him over to his Grandmother, now?"
Winona hesitates, and frowns. "No. I'll be there tomorrow. Keep him until then."
Two hours later she is on a shuttle to Earth, happy with the news that Grammy managed to track George down.
First thing in the morning she kicks Frank the hell out of her house. The second thing she does is hire a good lawyer. Only then does she finally go to get Jim.
As they walk to her car he vents his frustration. "If you were gonna get rid of him, then why the hell did you leave me there all night!" His fists are clenched, and his face is red.
She stares him down. "Because you trashed your daddy's car. That's why."
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June 24 2009, 06:49:21 UTC 2 years ago
#28, Number 1, Red Lipstick
She hated it. How on earth could wearing a specific color lipstick enhance her ability to do her job? She was the First Officer, should be above these things.She went to Captain Pike first, with her argument carefully planned and meticulously (like everything she did) structured. When he responded with a shrug and a vague comment about the rule coming from Starfleet and not him, she knew she had to go higher.
Admiral Archer was known for his progressiveness - no one had expected T'Pol to wear red lipstick aboard his ship - so she tried him first. When he couldn't (wouldn't?) help her, she took it higher still. This was no longer about the color of her lips.
It took her a long fight, in between scientific explorations and life-threatening discoveries, but eventually the day came. Not with a bang, but with a small footnote appended to a communiqué.
"Rule 86, Sub-Section 15, Part 4 is no longer active. Female officers are no longer required to wear a specific shade of lip make-up."
Barely anybody noticed the overturning of the rule, and most female officers continued to wear the traditional color. But Number One swore, from that day on, she never would.
Besides, red really wasn't her shade.
June 24 2009, 13:43:42 UTC 2 years ago
Re: #28, Number 1, Red Lipstick
Cool. I like this look at a little victory.2 years ago
June 24 2009, 10:41:24 UTC 2 years ago Edited: June 24 2009, 11:18:42 UTC
3. Amanda, ride my decision into the night
(A bit of an abstract interpretation of the prompt, but there you go. Title: Rain Shadow.)Amanda grows in the human city called Seattle, in the lee of the Olympic Mountains.
Her father broke faith with his family some time ago; her mother is of Ashkenazi descent, but she is not observant. Then none of them were. Amanda has seen her cousins at awkward events, the young girls all in skirts, the married women in wigs to keep their real hair a gift for their bonded ones alone; their husbands and God. Amanda tries to understand the life and the words, but her father says religion is useless. He says now that the world is so much bigger than during the age of the book, there are too many quantifiable things to learn about to spend time dwelling on what can never be understood. Her mother says faith is complicated, and blinding.
Amanda studies philosophy.
In graduate school she meets a guest speaker at her seminar. He speaks of the Kir'shara, vessel of wakeful tidings. He says, "Only one human has ever touched it." He says, "It is my privilege to convey the teachings of Surak to Earth, as it is my privilege to represent all aspects of Vulcan culture to your people." He says, "I can show you," and their first wedding is performed by Amanda's cousin, the rabbi, on the shore of Puget Sound.
Amanda lives in the Vulcan city called Shi'Kahr, in the lee of the L-langon Mountains. In some stretched-out seasons it feels like nothing so much as a crucible — gravity's ominous pull and the heat of the Forge pressing on her from above and below, a law of chemistry her father wouldn't believe she still knows. Long sleeves and stiff fabrics at this point seem like a test, and Amanda returns to her studies, waiting out the discomfort.
She is the second human ever to lay hands on the original Kir'shara. Sarek sees to that. She thinks he thought that if she read the teachings of Surak on her own, she would agree with all they said. She laughs at this and reminds him how they met. On her wall she mounts the ketubah that was her aunt's wedding gift, her parents' signatures bearing shaky witness to the marriage of Amanda and Sarek, illustrated with a painting of two trees whose roots intertwine. She sees her son's struggle to prove himself to the Vulcan children, and covers her ears in solidarity, finding that wearing a hood for love is no great sacrifice after all. She reads to him books from her childhood, rainy nonsense about boiling seas, and she can only hope he might one day understand.
On her terrace, under a strange sun, Amanda tends to her garden.
June 24 2009, 12:48:51 UTC 2 years ago
Re: 3. Amanda, ride my decision into the night
finding that wearing a hood for love is no great sacrifice after all.That's such a cool line. :) Lovely.
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June 24 2009, 10:49:09 UTC 2 years ago Edited: June 24 2009, 10:52:45 UTC
15. ex-Mrs. McCoy, achievement
She hears every word her husband doesn't say as he glares across the table at her. She's heard them all too many times since this started, and she's given up on repeating the words the same as he has. Her response to his glare is to straighten her spine a little more, and look fixedly at the courtroom door.If you'd asked her six months ago whether she expected to end up in divorce court, she'd have said, emphatically, "no." Yes, they'd fought sometimes. (You'd learn to yell, too, if you were married to Lenny, she'd told one of her friends in jest.) But those were quick bouts of frustration, and they passed without rancour on either side. At least, she'd always thought they'd avoided resentment until the day she got a job offer from the Federation Council. She wouldn't go so far as to say that Leonard looked happier than the day Joanna was born, but it was a pretty near thing. She tried to explain to him (what she'd told him already a hundred times, what she'd thought he understood) that she didn't want to be a "projects manager," didn't want a desk in an office building or to manage thousands of personnel she'd never met. Only somewhere along the way he got this look of fury on his face that she'd never seen before (never noticed?), as he told her that if she thought he was waiting another damn year for her to get sick of this hellhole... She felt like she was standing somewhere outside her body, watching a conversation play out that looked intimately familiar, but strange and meaningless as well (the madman howling into the wind and expecting it to listen). All his complaints - and Leonard wasn't a man to stint on complaining - about the climate, the people, the landscape: weren't those just his grumbling way of showing affection? Where had the bitterness come from? Surely he couldn't - but he did; wanted to take Joanna out of school, pack up their home and head for Earth, leave the colony and the business she'd built and the people who'd worked for her through three famines when the Federation had put them on the "low-priority" list for relief. It was the first time she'd ended a fight with him feeling that she couldn't breathe, and even now there's a sense of something tightened around her chest.
The judge comes in at last, and pronounces after a minimum of formalities. Even this, this meeting before the court is a matter of formality. She's made Beta Arturi the first mining colony in the sector where it's safe to raise a family and where people know they have the security to stay on until the demand for ore rises again. Her company owns half the damn planet, and every single member of the judge's family works for her, too. He can tell her it isn't fair - he's probably reached that point in his silent litany again - but he already knows her answer (he's heard it; she knows his response): this place is her achievement, and he can just try to wrest a handful of the rock he disdained from her cold, dead hand.
June 24 2009, 13:50:26 UTC 2 years ago
Re: 15. ex-Mrs. McCoy, achievement
Very interesting take on Mrs. McCoy. I can totally see an ambitious woman like her getting sick of all his bitching.2 years ago
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June 24 2009, 15:42:27 UTC 2 years ago Edited: June 24 2009, 15:43:45 UTC
19. Gaila, baking
It's Saturday and Gaila is not having sex.The world may be ending.
So why is Gaila not having sex on a Saturday? Because she's baking a cake. With her roommate, Uhura.
Gaila would rather be having sex. With Uhura, even. (She always says no, and Gaila has given up. A first for her.)
So baking it is.
Uhura looks completely calm, mixing the flour and the eggs and milk together with grace. A familiarity of motion. She slides the bowl over to Gaila. As Gaila pours the batter into the cake pan, she wonders if she could get away with molding a dick cake.
Then she thinks, Did I just think that? Am I that horny?
And after that, she thinks, I guess so.
And after that, she thinks, Awesome.
"What're you smiling about?" Uhura asks.
"I was thinking we could make a dick cake," she says, without looking up from pouring. Blunt and to the point. She gets more things done that way. Uhura sighs, and Gaila thinks that's it, no dick cake. Bummer.
But then: "Alright." And it's no hesitant, shy voice. Gaila looks up, surprised. Uhura gives her a sly smirk.
And Gaila thinks, Wow. Uhura's pretty awesome. Now I really wanna have sex with her.
And then she thinks, She'll probably still say no, though.
And after that she thinks, Mmm, dick cake.
June 24 2009, 16:58:07 UTC 2 years ago
Re: 19. Gaila, baking
Bahahahahahhaha.2 years ago
June 24 2009, 17:11:33 UTC 2 years ago
26. Number One, moment of weakness
Standing in Captain April's Ready Room, she realised it had been petty, and foolish, and a potentially career-ending mistake."Augment" was neither accurate (there had been no actual genetic enhancement of her genome), nor was it a slur she hadn't heard before since she had joined the Academy. It had been muttered in the halls every time she threw the curve on a test, was the first Command cadet back from a simulation, or tossed a larger, more imposing cadet to the mat in the gym. In every other instance she'd simply held her head high, refusing to let the word affect her.
Not this time.
"Now then, Cadet," Captain April, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of a very non-regulation cardigan, "would you care to explain to me why Cadet Clancy is currently down in the Medbay, having a broken jaw wired shut?"
"I had a moment of weakness, sir," was all she could offer as she looked down at her bruised knuckles, the skin split and slick with disinfectant gel.
"You realise that brawling in the canteen is not just discouraged, but in fact cause to bring a cadet up on charges?"
"Yes, sir." Her back was ramrod straight, but her eyes burned annoyingly with frustration and worry as the captain stared at her, his gaze neither accusatory nor angry, merely speculative.
"Since this is a cadet training cruise, and the Constitution is not actually in the middle of a crisis where such behaviour would not only be unbefitting a Starfleet officer but might jeopardise this ship and her crew, your Academy instructors would be the ones to administer any appropriate disciplinary action." He glanced down at this XO's report. "Were I to pass it along to them."
"Sir?"
"Witness statements from your fellow cadets indicate that your 'moment of weakness' occurred after 7 minutes of verbal abuse from the other cadet. Including what could be seen as slurs regarding Ilyria, Denobula, and several member worlds who perform vital medical research which in turn benefit the entire Federation as a whole. And that your--wait, let me see how Lt Reed described it... 'one hell of a left hook, with a lot of power behind it for a skinny cadet' came into play only after Cadet Clancy invaded your personal space and made threatening gestures."
"But he didn't lay a hand on me, sir," she blurted out.
"Cadet Clancy may not be laying hands on anything other than a mop, if I had my way."
"Sir?"
He raised a brow. "What, you'd prefer the brig?"
"No, sir--Captain."
"Good. And the next time someone makes a to-do out of your 'perfection' in relation to your performance of your duties, you take it up with the XO. Who in turn will take disciplinary action less likely to involve the need for medical attention. Understood?"
"Yes, sir." She swallowed, feeling a flush rising up her neck no matter how calm she strove to be. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"
"Yes, cadet?"
"Every other commander I've had has told me I need to 'grow a thicker skin', sir."
"Your skin seems fine to me." His smile was unexpected, paternal and warm. Not for the first time, she was struck by Captain April's demeanour, and how at odds it was with the other captains on whose vessels she had participated in training exercises. "Now, report to Doctor Poole in the Medbay. You've been re-assigned to be her dogsbody for the next week, to think about what you've done. When she's finished with you, you'll be assigned to Gamma shift aboard the bridge, as Mr Florida's relief."
Her eyes went wide. "The helm, sir?"
"Very good, cadet. You'll have a Lieutenant's braid before the year is out, with powers of observation like that."
She flushed more hotly, feeling it in the tips of her ears, thankfully hidden by her heavy fall of dark hair. "Thank you, sir."
"Don't thank me just yet. Sarah's a much harder boss than I am. She'll probably have you cleaning bedpans with a sonic toothbrush for the next week." He made a shooing motion. "Now, off you go. Don't keep her waiting."
She held back her grin until she was safe inside the turbolift.
Helm.
June 24 2009, 18:52:12 UTC 2 years ago
Re: 26. Number One, moment of weakness
eeeeee!! I love this. :)2 years ago
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June 24 2009, 18:05:35 UTC 2 years ago
23. Joanna McCoy, rebellion
2500+ words here because that just completely got away from me in every way possible.June 25 2009, 00:17:00 UTC 2 years ago
Re: 23. Joanna McCoy, rebellion
I went off and read and OMG LOVE. Seriously.June 24 2009, 18:45:13 UTC 2 years ago
28. Number One, red lipstick (1/2)
"I don't understand the purpose of this exercise," Number One said, scowling."That's bullshit," the USS Yorktown Chief Engineer Caitlin Barry said cheerful as she turned the chair towards the vanity, one hand on either arm, effective trapping her in place. "You understand just fine. You just want to get back to your terminal."
"The duty roster isn't going to sort itself out while you attack me with cosmetics."
"The duty roster can wait 'til morning. You, on the other hand, clearly need my expertise. Because you're about to go out on a date without a lick of make-up, and the same hairstyle you just wore on the bridge for the last two shifts."
Number One's scowl deepened. Her long dark hair was pulled back from her face and secured in a bun at the nape of her neck. It wouldn't get in her eyes when she was working that way. It was how she'd worn it every day for the last two years. What did Cait expect--a ribbon in her hair at the helm of one of Starfleet's most experience heavy cruisers?
"It's not a date."
"Really? Dinner in his quarters? I'm sorry, does our captain usually go over ship's operations with you over a nice candle-lit dinner for two? Because if he has, then you've been holding out on me."
Cait was about Number One's height, but curvy where Number One was slender, with hazel eyes and auburn hair, and her fair skin freckled when they actually got a dose of real sunshine. Which was rare, given the Yorktown's currently assignment of patrolling the Klingon-Federation DMZ.
She pawed through her collection of cosmetics, flipping the cylinders of lip-colour over as she searched for a shade that would work with her best friend's colouring. A best friend who was currently fighting her every step of the way.
"It's not going to be a candle-lit dinner for two. Knowing Chris, I'll be lucky if it's replicated steaks and syntheholic beer."
Cait rolled her eyes. "I've seen you take down Orion Pirates in hand-to-hand combat, and you're scared of a little lipstick?"
"It's impractical."
"Yes. That's the point." Cait grinned at her. "Sometimes, the point is to be impractical. Sometimes the point is to do something you don't normally do for fun. Also, it wouldn't hurt to be a little more comfortable in your own skin."
"Okay, now you're just being mean."
June 24 2009, 18:45:35 UTC 2 years ago Edited: June 24 2009, 19:22:11 UTC
Re: 28. Number One, red lipstick (2/2)
"No, now I'm being your friend. And as your friend, I'm telling you that being comfortable with your sexuality and your sensuality, and learning to take risks with your personal life with the way you do in the line of duty is a good thing.""Taking risks with my commanding officer is not a good thing, Cait. We work together--very closely. If the relationship between the captain and the XO is awkward or strained, that can affect everything from crew morale to the efficiency of daily routines."
"Please. You're both professionals. You've worked together for years. And it's not as if Pike doesn't have close relationships with his staff. He and Phil are practically joined at the hip, and even when they're yelling at each other across the Briefing Room table, has it ever affected crew morale? You're just losing your nerve."
"Of course I'm losing my nerve!" Number One snapped, feeling the blood rushing to her cheeks. Cait set the tube of cosmetic down on the top of the vanity, and crouched down so they were eye-to-eye.
"I'm not telling you to jump him, for Peter's sake. I'm telling you a little lipstick to remind him that, oh I dunno, you have lips. Right there in front of him, even. And that not only are you the most efficient XO in the fleet, you're a gorgeous, vital, intelligent woman who wouldn't say no to companionship outside the purview of her job."
Number One stared at her, and then glanced at the lipstick sitting innocently on the tabletop. She hadn't turned it over to see what colour it would be, but she knew it would be red. Because if it was worth doing, it was worth doing well, Cait always said.
"Just lipstick," she said as she raised a finger in warning, and Cait's face lit up.
"Yes." Cait nodded briskly. Number One could tell she was already mentally cataloguing her off-duty wardrobe, trying to figure out if any of her outfits would fit her.
"And I'm wearing my uniform, and I'm not doing anything with my hair."
"You drive a hard bargain." Which Number One chose to interpret as I will take what I can get this round, but next time, I am attacking you with shoes.
"I hate you."
"That is a huge lie. You adore me."
Cait turned the chair back to the vanity, and Number One risked a smile. Maybe a little lipstick wouldn't be so bad.
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June 24 2009, 19:06:45 UTC 2 years ago
29. Number One, settling
She'd sat in the command chair a hundred times before, of course.As Exec, she took the seat any time the captain was planetside or stationside on a Landing Party. Even took command of the ship on Gamma Shift, when it came up in rotation, with a skeleton crew of junior officers and crewmen who almost never saw Captain Pike due to being low men and women on the totem pole.
But--running her fingertips over the controls building into the armrests, feeling the cushions give as she leaned forwrad, then back as if testing its mettle--this was different.
This was sitting in the chair knowing that once they reached Earth and Chris and Spock were safely transferred to their new postings at the Academy, she would be wearing a new stripe on her sleeve and would be the Yorktown's commander in more than just name.
"Getting settled?" Pike asked from where he stood between tactical and the chair, watching her, his grin infectious.
"Yes, sir."
June 24 2009, 19:44:40 UTC 2 years ago
Re: 29. Number One, settling
<32 years ago
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June 24 2009, 19:42:39 UTC 2 years ago
33. Uhura - Wanderlust
*This was very much influenced by Zoe Saldana in Pirates of the Caribbean*When she was five on a vacation to the coast of Africa, Nyota wandered away from her family. She was found eventually on one of the stone sea walls. The smell of the ocean and the sound of the waves had been a siren's call. She licked her lips and tasted the salt, her eyes stung as the wind whipped past, but she kept them wide open. She wanted to spread her arms and fly away on the breeze and skim the surface of the sea. The look on her face must have alarmed her mother because her father quickly came by and took her small hand in his and she was once again tethered to the ground.
Once, she was studying on her favorite bench in the park and saw a mother leading her child along by a bright pink kiddie leash. She had to bite her tongue to stop herself from yelling at the cruelty masquerading as protection. The taste of blood in her mouth stirred something primal in her and she quickly turned away and focused on Romulan verb conjugations.
At Starfleet Academy she feels like she's one step closer to freedom. What that freedom entails, she doesn't yet know. But it calls to her and she has no choice but to follow.
The first time she makes love with him, she feels as though she's been caught in a riptide and is being joyously swept out to sea, Spock's hand on her hip is the only thing that anchors her back to solid ground.
Then she's standing on the hallowed Bridge and the destruction of the armada is vast and devastating and she feels like she's seen this kind of wreckage before. But the sensation passes and she fills her spine with steel and drowns the cry of anguish at so many souls lost in the cool waters of protocol and orders from her captain.
When they return to Earth, she immediately longs to be back in the sky. Her legs can't seem to function as they should and she keeps her eyes on the horizon to balance herself.
But, they get back on Her. This wonderful ship that is made up of equal parts freedom and adventure. They're flying along at warp speed and the taste of salt is ever present on her lips.
June 24 2009, 21:00:45 UTC 2 years ago
Re: 33. Uhura - Wanderlust
This is so sweet, and I love this: she's been caught in a riptide and is being joyously swept out to sea.2 years ago
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June 24 2009, 19:42:49 UTC 2 years ago
6. Chapel, practical
Christine's quarters are cold and dark when she wakes. It's always cold in space, but the darkness is only a product of the ship's computer. A timer, set to imitate the cycle of Sol. She tries not to think about it as she gets out of bed and goes about her routine, showering without water and dressing in a crisp white tunic like the others in her closet.She walks slowly through the gleaming, polished corridors to the medbay, and she is an hour early for Beta shift, but no one questions it because every bed is filled and they need all the trained hands they can get. As soon as she's scrubbed down, McCoy is shouting for her and she's off, preparing a hypospray with one hand while she reaches for the patient's chart with the other.
It's not until hours later that she gets another moment of quiet and time to think. Captain Pike is out cold, sedated and pliant as she changes his catheter and washes his skin gently to prevent bedsores. It is just the two of them there, behind the curtain, and he isn't talking. Christine can hear the machines hum and the quiet noises of talk and treatment from the rest of the medbay.
She looks down at the body on the bed beneath her hands, and thinks of the dashing officer who stood at the podium and spoke to an auditorium full of bored nursing students about Starfleet, about the colonists and planets still undiscovered, and how every one of them needed trained medical professionals. Afterward, she approached him, feeling hesitant and silly. Her life was already planned out, no room for five-year missions and strange new worlds. But somehow, when he talked, she could see herself there, in space, helping people who had never even heard of the planet Earth. Despite herself, she felt her plans for gleaming laboratories and biomedical breakthroughs giving way and being replaced by a new dream. She set aside that application for the internship with Dr. Korby, and enlisted in Starfleet instead. When she's done, she drops her gloves in a waste container, pulls the covers back up over the Captain's chest, and steps out through the curtain back into the bustle and commotion of the medbay.
Hours later Beta shift draws to a close, but the only way Christine knows the difference is that her relief arrives, looking starched and efficient, and pulls the padd from her hand. "Get some rest, Chapel," she says, and Christine smiles at her to show that she knows she means well, and heads toward the door. Just before she reaches the corridor, she turns and looks over the room. In the very back corner, McCoy is sitting with his feet propped on the attending physician's desk with a padd in his lap. Puri's office is shuttered and dark next to him, unused. She remembers him shouting for her as she walked in, nine hours ago, and turns.
"Time to eat, Doctor," she says, leaning her shoulder against the wall and crossing her arms over her chest, like she would with a difficult patient.
He looks up at her and blinks slowly, as if he's having trouble focusing on her. Half his mouth twists up in a piece of a smile: he knows what she's up to.
"You've been here since Alpha shift," she tells him. "Let the other kids have a chance."
He puts down the padd and rubs his eyes. "That obvious, huh?" When he stands, he wobbles unsteadily on his feet, but she pretends not to notice.
Later, Christine sits on the observation deck and looks out at the starfield beyond. Every glimmering point of light is another sun, surrounded by more planets. More worlds, more colonies, more civilizations to seek out and discover. She still remembers the way Captain Pike's voice rang out across that auditorium, the pictures that his words painted in her mind. She's only been in space for a few days, but she thinks maybe she was wrong back then, when she was stirred by his stories of faraway planets, exploration and colonization.
The stars beyond the viewscreen are beautiful, but the real wonder of her work is the people on board. Her patients, her superiors, her colleagues... and yes, her friends.
She's on shift again soon; the practical thing would be to return to quarters and get some rest. Instead, she makes her way toward the officer's lounge for a nightcap and some conversation.
June 24 2009, 19:58:45 UTC 2 years ago
Re: 6. Chapel, practical
Fabulous!2 years ago
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June 24 2009, 20:33:22 UTC 2 years ago
34. Uhura: Breaking Point 1/2
This is my first fan fiction in six years, guys, so be a bit gentle. :)She'd had enough.
Uhura stormed through the corridors of the Enterprise, her ponytail violently whipping back and forth. She could feel fire coming from her eyes, tension showing from her pursed lips and aggression fuming though her strained fingers. She could feel something warm and wet trickle down her palm. She had been pressing her fingernails into her hand so hard that she was sure she was bleeding.
"UHURA!"
She pretended she didn't hear the young captain as she turned quickly down another corridor. She was hoping to lose Kirk. However, with each aggressive step she took, she could hear him coming closer. He was running.
Even though her legs ached, pleading with her to let them run, she wouldn't let them. Running would show him how mad she was.
She was also forcing back tears. For now she was doing a good job with it.
Another turn.
"U-HUR-A, slow down!"
Within a matter of seconds he caught up with her, his gold shirt stuck to his back from the sweat and exhaustion dripping from his face. He breathed heavily as he threw both of his hands onto her shoulders, hoping that maybe this would prevent her from walking away so easily.
"You need to work out more and lay off the booze, Captain," she spat, trying to get around him. He immediately wheeled around and managed to pin her arms at her sides. Kirk threw one of his trademark smirks at her, hoping to get her to smile. It only seemed to make her eyes glow with a bit more anger. "Get out of my way."
"Not until I apologize," he finally said, his exhaustion still present in his voice.
"I don't know if I can accept an apology this time," Uhura whispered, getting her arms out of his grasp. Her own exhaustion and sadness was starting to get the best of her, she thought. The anger was still flooding her veins, but it was starting to loosen its grip on her brain and her heart.
June 24 2009, 20:33:59 UTC 2 years ago
34. Uhura: Breaking Point 2/2
"Look, it's what guys do, all right? I'm sorry.""That's what guys do?! I'm sorry, sir, but you are captain of the greatest ship in the Federation. Just because you're young and stupid doesn't give you the right to use that as an excuse. You know better." She fought back a knot in her throat and made her way past the dumbstruck captain. He didn't have a comeback.
She continued to walk down the hall and turned into another one when Kirk jogged to get back in front of her.
"It's just...why do you like him? That pointy eared son-of-a-bitch," Kirk said, curiously cocking his head to the side and once again, smirked. "You know he's not going to put-"
Uhura bit her lip, but tried to remain angry. "I don't care if he 'puts out,' Kirk. And I can't believe you're talking about your friend like that."
"I'm trying to liven up the situation," he admitted, a bit of the color draining from his face. "It's just...you're gonna get nothing but hurt with a guy like that. The guy doesn't even smile, let alone love."
"I'm already hurt," she snapped softly, feeling her eyes well up again. She turned her head to the side a bit so she could have a chance to swallow the knot in her throat without him noticing. Why, oh why, did she have to fall for a Vulcan, of all races? And why can't a human have better control over her own heart?
She turned a bit to have her back resting on the wall as to prop herself up. She felt weak. She was done being angry at Kirk. The anger she felt toward him was so intense when it started that it died out quickly. The sadness was filling her more and more as each second passed. She sighed and stared off into space.
Kirk said nothing. Just watched her for a second. They hadn't always gotten along so well in the past (she's always found him to be immature and brash), but he couldn't help but think that he had really hurt her this time. Kirk, McCoy and Sulu had been in one of the rec rooms, talking about how she had been wasting her time on Spock when he was going to do nothing but sit there and basically ignore her.
She could have a real man, like them. One that was gonna treat her right. One that was gonna worship her like the goddess she is. One that was gonna constantly parade around that she was the ultimate prize.
Uhura had walked in halfway through the boys' conversation, but none of them had noticed her. First of all, Spock didn't sit there and do nothing. He just didn't know what to do. Also, he was a real man; real men were intelligent. Strong. Powerful in the right ways. He would treat her right if he knew what to do!
She was also upset that the guys thought of her as something to be won in a carnival game and only to be shown off. Displayed on the trophy case of life.
But she did constantly feel like she had been wasting her time on Spock. That was what hurt most of all. She'd come to terms with being part of boys' fantasies...but she'd never been reassured that trying to win Spock's heart would be a neverending battle.
And she heard it from his best friend.
Kirk moved only when he saw the first tear slowly run down her cheek. He touched her shoulder gently and when she didn't move, took her in a hug. She didn't really hug him back, but just placed her forehead on his shoulder, trying to choke back audible sobs. When the tears came down in droves, she realized she needed to fight her feelings on her own. Slowly pushing herself out of Kirk's chest, she wiped the tears away from her eyes and turned on her heel to head to her personal quarters.
Kirk didn't try to catch up this time.
June 24 2009, 20:35:02 UTC 2 years ago
20. -- Gaila, intellect
Gaila grows up on a neutral world, with very little sense of what it means to be Orion, either on the homeworld or in the galaxy at large. Velandra is quiet and agrarian, essentially a planetary commune, with large family groups tending larger farms and raising multiple children together. Her mother tells her that her clan at home would have been a little like this, at least in terms of having tons of kids around all the time; other than that, Mama doesn't talk about where they came from often.
She is schooled mostly by computer, with the tutor occasionally clucking in approval as she sees how much Gaila has read or how far she has advanced in her self-directed courses. Soon she realizes that the other children don't seem to learn as much or as quickly, but none of them want to leave Velandra. Gaila figures her drive comes from her desire to see the bigger universe out there, and that the other kids could learn as fast if they'd just make up their minds to do it.
Then she takes the Starfleet Academy entrance exam and aces it. Gaila's first thought is that it must be easier than she's always heard.
When she arrives on Earth, Gaila is worried about acting like a hick from nowhere, which, okay, she is. She pays careful attention to the clothes women wear and the phrases people say, hoping to incorporate them into her speech quickly, so she'll fit in. And of course she intends to study constantly in order to keep up, just in case the Academy courses are harder than the exam was.
Within one day, she realizes she was worrying about all the wrong things. Gaila could walk around in a sack and a feather boa, and nobody would see anything about her but her green skin. Some people sneer, and others leer; neither reaction is pleasant. The few people who are kind and open-minded (including her roommate, luckily) are the ones she clings to.
And the courses? Not hard. Not hard at all. A couple of them are borderline easy. When Gaila sees students bent over their PADDs in the library or hears them turning down social engagements to study, she's sure this is just posturing. A human custom, maybe, to hide how much they can really do.
Not until her third month at the Academy does the truth dawn.
"Your scores on the astrophysics exams are the highest of any first-year cadet," says Commander Spock after class one day. "With your permission, I intend to suggest that you be enrolled in the third-year astrophysics seminar next semester."
Gaila blinks. "Um," she says. "Okay."
This wins her a raised eyebrow. "Is there a problem, Cadet? If you prefer to remain on the conventional course track, that is your right, although I suspect you would find it less challenging than you might prefer."
"No, I'd rather move ahead. It's just – really, nobody else is doing well on this material? Because it's pretty easy."
"Astrophysics is not easy," Spock interjects. "Your intellect merely allows you to perceive it as such."
And somehow, this is the very first time in her life when Gaila realizes she's a whole lot smarter than most of the people she meets – even here. It explains a lot.
June 24 2009, 21:04:34 UTC 2 years ago
Re: 20. -- Gaila, intellect
I like this side of Gaila!It's exciting!It's different from other things I see from Gaila.Well done, Miss!
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June 24 2009, 21:59:25 UTC 2 years ago
30. Number One, arduous
She'd applied to the Academy twice before she was finally accepted.Once when she was eleven--only to be told that the youngest age applicants were admitted was the Standard equivalent of fourteen because cadets had to be physically mature enough to handle the rigours of the physical training and even in the accelerated three year plan that would still mean she'd be too young upon graduation for a posting in the Fleet.
And then again at age thirteen, when she'd been informed that Starfleet Regs prohibited Genetic Engineered individuals from serving if their modifications were in violation of the Eugenics Act of 2155 which stated that any genetic "enhancements" based solely on augmenting neural and physical excellence beyond Accepted Human Norms barred individuals from positions in Starfleet Medical, Starfleet Command, or even Starfleet Operations as a Non-Commissioned Officer.
She'd lodged a formal complaint, included her complete medical work-up and records which indicated that Ilyrian Eugenics were solely the subject of a controlled breeding programme, with no actual artificial alterations to her genome. She'd cited published papers from medical journals from both within and without the Federation dating back a hundred years regarding advances in naturally decreasing neurotransmitter levels in genetically engineered humanoids by careful screening; safeguards that were regularly used in the medical practices of the Denobulans and colonists of the Moab sector.
When the Federation Council overturned the Eugenics Act and replaced it with the Genetic Engineering Act of 2237, she saw her chance and took it. Within days of the Act being passed, her application had been accepted. However, she still had one more hurdle to overcome: her own people.
Ilyria was a very conservative society, nearly completely isolationist. As a Ward of the State, her application to attend an off-world institution for secondary education had to be approved by the State. And given that she had been designed at birth as the most exceptional genetic example produced by the Programme for the year of her birth, it was expected that she would remain on Ilyria. Even contribute her genetic stock to the Programme, as well as her future to the Ilyrian Science Academy which regularly rivalled even its Vulcan counterpart for annual scientific achievements.
So she had done the only thing she could, under the circumstances: she'd run away.
She was tall for her age, and in the loose-fitting garments she could hide the fact that she was still a coltish adolescent. She paid the passage to Alpha Centauri out of a secondary source of funds she'd set up two years before, a tiny fraction of her monthly cost-of-living stipend being funnelled into the account automatically so it wouldn't attract notice. For an A-4 computer expert with an eidetic memory, it hadn't been hard.
She'd left all of her belongings behind, set up automated messages to play on her comms if and when she was contacted. It would (she hoped) be days before her absence was noted. And by then, she had already taken her place among the cadet class at Starfleet Academy's Alpha Centauri Campus, with plans to transfer to one of the Terran campuses as soon as her sponsor could push it through channels.
By the time the Ilyrian Ambassador to Earth had shown up at Admiral Chandra's office demanding she be released back into the custody of the Ilyrian government, she had already claimed political asylum.
Getting off Ilyria had been easy.
Getting Ilyria out of her head... well, that was a bit more difficult.
June 24 2009, 22:01:45 UTC 2 years ago
Re: 30. Number One, arduous
Love it! This is excellent.2 years ago
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June 25 2009, 00:50:58 UTC 2 years ago
10. Chapel : Underestimated
"How'd he get hurt this time," she said assertively. It wasn't really a question, but more of an exasperated statement. She walked beside two cadets that were walking slowly and awkwardly under the Captain's weight. Kirk was flirting in and out of consciousness and mumbling gibberish under his breath. Scrapes and one large cut donned his stubbled cheeks. His clothing, as usual, was torn, this time displaying scrapes and even a burn on his chest."He was trying to protect Ensign Davies, Nurse," said one of the cadets, a bit out of breath. Christine rolled her eyes. Of course, she thought, Always trying to be the hero.
"Where is Davies, then?" she said as she let the two cadets into the sickbay. Neither cadet responded until they hoisted the mainly unconscious Kirk onto a bed. They both looked at each other, then at Christine.
"Dead, ma'am," one said. He was noticeably shaking now, but she wasn't sure if that was because he was still haunted by the image of a dead comrade or was exhausted from carrying Kirk.
She walked past them and started analyzing Kirk to see if he had suffered any major damage in the battle. "That would be why there's no sign of Dr. McCoy then?" she snapped, using a bit of pent-up aggression. She couldn't believe he wasn't immediately beamed back up. It was his best friend and the captain that was currently laying battered and torn in her care.
"He's tending to the others that are injured, yes. He said he'd be up to help in a moment."
They stood there, watching her. Christine passed the tricorder over Kirk's head before she glared at them. "Don't just stand there. The man needs help." She said it calmly but with a bite at the end. She didn't mind barking orders from time to time, especially since she seemed to be rather good at it. She didn't raise the tone in her voice often, but when she did, it proved effective. It worked this time too; the cadets didn't take another thought as they jumped and scurried from the sickbay.
Kirk began to stir just as she realized that other from the usual bumps and bruises Kirk seems to get every other day, he was fine. Well, except for the hairline fracture she found near his collarbone. She figured he probably got it when he tried to protect Davies.
This isn't his first rodeo, she thought as she sighed. Not mine, either. She prepared a hypospray of pain medications as he blinked, trying to get the sickbay into focus.
"Where am I?" he spurted, almost in a laugh.
"Sickbay, Captain. Once again, you've injured yourself. Surprised?" Even she was shocked at the tone of her voice. Must have been something with the possibility of ten, maybe fifteen, people joining Kirk in the sickbay.
"Not really," he muttered. He tried to sit up. Christine held the hypospray in one hand and lightly touched his chest in a gesture to get him to lay down. "Hey, Christine, you know-"
There he goes again. This man never quits, does he? she thought as Kirk started flashing a brilliant set of teeth and shooting her suggestive glares from underneath his eyebrows. Although she often took the flirtatious gestures from Kirk (never really paying attention to them, of course; she had a greater prize she was aiming for), she wasn't going to take it this time.
Especially since she just heard the intercom bellow about seventeen more that would be joining them in the sickbay in a matter of minutes. Fantastic, she thought, as the intercom then called for all medical personnel to head to the sickbay. They're not trusting me with getting patients into beds and start surveying them for injuries while I wait for McCoy to return? Do well really need everyone?
Abandoning the idea to give Kirk something to help the pain, she figured it was probably best that he..."took a nap."
As she forcefully gave Kirk a sedative, she thought to herself, Bet he never saw that one coming.
June 25 2009, 00:59:48 UTC 2 years ago
Re: 10. Chapel : Underestimated
Love it! Really good writing and love that you did hurt!kirk!!2 years ago
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