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marlinspirkhall · 3 years

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Tomorrow Never Comes, Chapter 01: “Play Me”

For Non-AO3 Readers. Originally published on AO3. Written for the 2020 Star Trek Halloween Bang.

Artist: @idealisticcatastasis

Content warnings: Graphic Descriptions Of Violence, Other Archive Warnings May Apply.

Chapter 1 Word Count: 5,719 words

[Front Cover] [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2]

There’s a groan. Jim shifts, ever so slightly, and the overhead lights flicker on. The room is flooded instantly by a bright, neon green, as if every surface has been covered in ectoplasm from an old horror movie. He’s leaning against something hard, and he pulls away from it with a groan.

It’s a metal bathtub, set into the floor. Above him is a shower head, rusted with age, and the wall is in a similar state of disrepair.

He catches a glimpse of something on the floor. A streak of maroon runs round the outer edge of the tub, trails to the ground, covers the floor in a patch around his feet- and yet, there’s not a drop of it on him. He shifts, tentatively, and it flecks off the metal floor. Whatever it is, it’s been further discoloured by the lights overhead, and it takes him a moment to process it. Not brown, he realises. Red.

Something stirs his stomach. Most of it is darker, dried, but the puddle around him is only half-congealed.

He leans forwards, and grimaces. In the center of the bath, a message is scrawled in blood:

“Play me”.

A long, jagged arrow points to the center of the bath. Tangled in a mess of frayed wires is a single screen, slightly larger than a PADD. Dried fingerprints. For a split second, Jim considers showing his discovery to the others, but the moment passes.

He reaches over, and turns it on. It crackles to life. A video is already queued, and it plays automatically. He fumbles with the screen, almost drops it, because- the person on the recording- is him. He looks different on the recording, though. The saturation of green, washing him out; the strange way he watches the camera. An almost alien confidence.

“Now, I know what you’re thinking,” the recording says, with a smile. “You don’t remember making this video. But, I assure you; you did.” He glances away for a moment, somewhere offscreen, and his voice softens. “It should be safe- he never comes in here.” He straightens up, and turns back to the camera. “But, I’m getting ahead of myself.”

Jim frowns as the figure on-screen reaches for something unseen.

“Now, don’t panic,” says the recording. “I want you to remain completely calm.” There’s a glint of metal.

His eyes widen.

“Everything is going to be alright,” the recording says. He holds a hand out, flat, and raises the other. In one, quick motion, he brings the axe down. Thud. A wet, tumbling sound. A muffled moan, and a hiss. The sound distorts further as the camera is knocked to the floor, pointing up at the ceiling, and the screen is flooded by the bright, overpowering green.

Scuffling. A grunt of pain, then relief. The video shakes, and continues to tremble as the angle shifts, spins, and suddenly steadies. Jim notes the space where the trail of bloodstains ends. When he was recording, he must have placed it on the end of the bath.

His recorded-self blinks, and exhales shakily. His right hand is now wrapped in a towel; soaked through quickly by blood.

Jim stares down at his own hands. There’s not a scratch on them, and he still has all ten digits.

Past-Jim exhales, his face drawn with pain, and gives him a shaky smile. “Now that I have your attention,” he says, “Let’s start at the beginning.”

[INSERT: IMAGE: “Divider green knife”]

On the outskirts of Mars Colony Alpha is a large, concrete complex no-one discusses. A majority of the structure is buried beneath the surface, untold levels stretching beneath the dirt. Somewhere on the ground floor, James Kirk is onto his third book of the day. For the most part, he measures the days in books, and not the even, unbroken schedule of the guards.

The gymnasium is about the size of an indoor tennis court, claustrophobic walls painted shades of beige and grey which don’t quite agree with each other. The tops of the walls are set with small glass observation windows, the glass tinted just enough that you can’t be sure when someone’s watching you.

Some of the other inmates have formed small cliques, and Jim is reminded uncannily of high school. For his part, he keeps to himself, and takes up a space by one of the rowing machines. He’s so accustomed to ignoring the watchful gaze of the guards that it’s easy to pretend he doesn’t see the eyes across the room, studying him.

At lunch, it’s the same. He eats quickly, and keeps one eye on his stalker. He’s certain he hasn’t seen him before. Judging from the eyebrows, he could be Romulan, though it’s impossible to tell for certain, as his ears are hidden by long, dark hair. Still, Jim thinks, it’d be unusual to keep a prisoner of war on this level; most of the people here are ex-starfleet.

On the way out of the dining hall, he doubles back on himself, and slams into the man. He grunts, and Jim keeps walking, until he has him backed into a wall.

“Why are you following me?” He hisses.

The man tilts his head and stares down at him serenely, his dark eyes glittering. His hair goes just past his shoulders, and has a slightly silky quality. Up close, he can see that the man lacks the forehead ridges typical of Romulans- it’s far more likely that he’s a Vulcan. Jim slumps a little, his grip growing slack, but the man doesn’t move a muscle.

“Hey!” A guard yells.

Jim releases him with a blink, and turns on his heel.

Footsteps follow him down the corridor.

“That was not an invitation to continue,” Jim says over his shoulder.

“I assumed you wanted an answer.”

“Well, you know…” He walks faster. “A little mystery brightens my day.”

“In that case, I apologise in advance for depriving you of your entertainment.” The man keeps astride of him easily, and Jim grits his teeth.

“Don’t worry, you get used to it around here.”

“Mm. A man of your talents must get bored easily.”

The corridor splits in two, and Jim takes the left path. “And which talents would those be?”

The man raises an eyebrow. “Your skill for decoding.”

“I’m flattered,” he laughs, “Though, that’s not what the academy called it.”

“Indeed. The academy had remarkably low tolerance for practical jokes.”

Jim slows. “Well, that all depends on the effectiveness of the joke.”

“Yes. Or, how well you cover your tracks.”

Jim snorts. “Well… Hypothetically speaking, of course-” he lowers his voice. “Why would you come to me? I wouldn’t be here if I was any good at that.”

“To respond in terms which are equally hypothetical- it is not a mistake you are likely to make again.”

“Ah; I get it-” a guard passes them in the corridor, and Jim gives them a cheery smile. “You want me to join the prison’s cipher team.”

The man nods. “That is correct. Though, the latest series of-” another guard passes- “Recreational puzzles would be presented to us in Klingon.”

Jim shrugs. “It’s possible, but I’d suggest a xenolinguist, instead.”

“Our search is limited to the confines of the prison-”

“Of course,” Jim gives him a searching smile. “You are an inmate, after all.”

“I always endeavour to remain discreet.”

“Oh; that’s a useful skill,” he comments, as they climb the steps to the dorm areas. “You’ll have to teach me some time.”

“If you’d like.” They climb the rest of the stairway in silence. At the top, the man lowers his voice. “It is unfortunate, when the government which incarcerates you falls.”

“And why’s that?” Jim breathes.

He quirks an eyebrow. “There’s no one left to overturn the ruling.”

“That’s true,” Jim murmurs, and heads for his door. “But I’ve only got three months left, and then I’m out of here-”

The man blocks his path. “Or, you could get out of here tonight.” He tilts his head a little, studying Jim intensely.

“What?” The corner of his mouth twitches. “With you and the cipher team?”

The man gives the slightest nod, and Jim considers it for a moment. It’s almost tempting. But, ultimately, whether he gets out today or tomorrow, there’s not much waiting for him outside.

He steps around him with an awkward smile. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you-” he pushes the door open, and steps inside. “But it seems that rumours of my intelligence have been greatly exaggerated.”

The man remains silent, yet there’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

“… Though, I’m still smart enough to do this.” Jim says in a breathy whisper, as he swings the door shut.

At evening’s meal, Jim once again feels a pair of eyes on him, and pays firm attention to his plate. The main structure of the meal greatly resembles beets, and- if he concentrates enough- almost tastes like it. Still, his attention is split, and, when he next glances up, the man is no longer there.

He frowns, and spears one of the roots.

And sees something from the corner of his eye.

He sits bolt upright, sliding backwards along the bench with a prologued glare at his unexpected visitor. The man is back; watching him with unsettling intensity.

“You move fast,” Jim grumbles, and quickly stuffs his mouth to excuse himself from conversation.

“Yes.” Not completely without manners, he remains standing; his hands behind his back in a posture which looks strangely familiar. It hits him suddenly, and he tilts his head at the man. At ease, he thinks, with a reluctant nod to the seat opposite.

He sits.

Jim swallows, and lowers his fork. “Let me guess,” he says, dully. “Your cipher team’s still one person short.”

The man nods, his face carefully neutral. “Our team leader will be disappointed.”

Something stirs in Jim’s stomach, and it’s not just dubious beets. “And… What happens then?”

The man almost smiles. “You need not concern yourself with it.”

“Uh huh.” Jim tries to remind himself to stay out of it. “But you didn’t come here to make small talk.”

“No.”

“You’re here to try and persuade me again.”

He blinks at him. A silent question.

“You’re going to tell me to

The man inclines his head. “I sound convincing so far.”

“I-” Jim laughs. “Son of a bitch.” He sits back in his seat. “That’s been your tactic all along,” he realises. “You were going to get me to talk myself into it.”

"It is not a tactic. You simply anticipated my arguments before I could state them.”

“And, if I hadn’t done that?”

He considers for a moment. “I would have attempted to make you see the logic in joining me.”

“Right,” Jim straightens up in his chair a bit. “You are a Vulcan, after all.”

The man holds his gaze for a moment, then raises an eyebrow. “Is that enough to persuade you?”

Jim smirks. “Maybe. But you know more about me than I do about you- I don’t even know your name.”

“Spock.”

“Jim. But; you knew that.” He smiles, and sets his hands on the table with a slap. “How many people are on your... Cipher team?” The cafeteria is busy enough that they could talk openly, but Jim enjoys the slow-blinks Spock gives him when faced with unexpected information.

“Two,” he says, finally.

Jim stares at him. He studies his expression for a trace of the humour he saw before, but, apparently, the man is deadly serious.

Jim leans forward. “Granted, I don’t know the nature of the puzzles you’re dealing with, but-” he lowers his voice “- That doesn’t sound like nearly enough.”

“You will only be present for part of the operation.”

“Alright. So how many people are involved in the entire operation?”

“That is a discreet matter.”

“As, I suppose, is the question of who you’re working for.”

Spock nods.

“Discreet.” Jim repeats, as he gives him an unsubtle once-over. “And they sent... You?”

“I am capable of remaining inconspicuous,” Spock says, with the slightest smile.

“Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean people won’t notice you.”

Spock frowns. “To what are you referring?”

Jim smiles, coyly. “I’m afraid that’s a discreet matter.”

Spock stares at the table for a moment, expression unreadable.

“You want to know if you can trust me,” he says, finally.

“Yes.”

“You can’t.”

Jim gives an amused huff. “That’s not a very convincing argument.”

“Nevertheless, it is the truth.”

“I get it. You prove your honesty, I trust you, I leave with you.”

“I am not attempting to manipulate you; I am simply running out of time.”

Jim frowns.

Spock’s hands shift slightly under the table. “My partner, Leland, is breaking me out tonight- me, and the best hacker I can find.”

Jim sits back “And, to think: I thought you chose me specially.”

A breathy, almost-laugh. “He did.”

“I’m flattered.”

He watches Jim. “I…” He jerks his head. “Was not supposed to offer you a choice in the matter.”

“… Less flattered,” Jim murmurs, as his eyes dart to Spock’s hands.

Spock’s mouth twitches, and he lays them flat on the table. “I have no weapons.,” he assures him.

Jim lets out a breath. “Do you need any?”

“Well-”

The cafeteria is plunged into pitch darkness. A murmur reverberates around them, and someone yells. Jim grabs at the table with one hand, and reaches into his pocket with the other. He searches for the familiar, smooth blade handle.

It’s not there. His heart pounds faster. It’s in my quarters, he realises, trying to stave off a blind panic.

After a moment, the emergency lights flicker on: a bright, unrelenting red.

Spock tenses, his face bathed in the light, and he stares at Jim helplessly.

“It’s okay,” Jim places a hand on his arm. “It’s just a power cut.”

“No; it’s not.” Spock stands, suddenly, and surveys the hall. His grip is tight on the back of the chair. “It’s Leland. Stay here.”

He takes a step forwards. Chair legs scrape as Jim scrambles to his feet. “Where are you going?” He hisses.

Spock fixes him with a look. “To stop him from killing anyone.”

“What-?”

“Return to your rooms!” Bellows a guard.

Jim turns, but Spock has already disappeared. Cursing, he hurries in the direction he left, being buffeted between the crowd. He weaves his way down the corridor, and the lights begin to flicker overhead. He curses, and moves faster.

The lights fail as he’s half-way up the stairs, and he grips the handrail for support. The only source of light which remains are strips of bioluminescent paint which line the floor, tingeing everything in a faint blue-green. He stumbles to the top of the stairs. The few people who had returned to their cells wander out again, muttering amongst themselves, and the guards are nowhere to be seen. Jim reaches his room, out of breath, and leans against the wall, gasping.

He should just stay here. He should just lie on his bed, and wait for the situation to be resolved. Instead, he reaches into his mattress, and retrieves the small, fold-out knife. He runs his fingers over the handle for a moment, and then slips it into the pocket of his jumpsuit.

Downstairs, Jim skims his hand along the wall, to help navigate the pockets of darkness. The material is unusually coarse, like concrete with too many air bubbles trapped inside it, and there’s a scream up ahead. Heart pounding, he begins to move a little faster, passing the usually-secure area around the turbolift. Three inmates are clustered around it: two humans and an Andorian, bickering amongst themselves as they attempt to rewire the lock.

There’s shouting up ahead.

A guard stumbles into view, shouldering a phaser rifle. Jim freezes- but their attention is elsewhere, staring at something unseen. A yell echoes down the corridor, and it’s lit up by a flash of red, then blue, as the guard falls to the floor.

Jim grits his teeth, and he pokes his head round the corner.

The corridor is covered in debris, flakes of plaster and brick which used to be the exterior wall. At the other end of the corridor, guards and escapees are firing at each other indiscriminately, and Jim doesn’t stick around long enough to find out if the weapons are set for stun. He simply retrieves a flashlight from the fallen guard, and slips through the gap in the wall, out into the self-contained atmosphere of the prison dome.

Outside, an alarm blares. His nose wrinkles. The air is thinner here, and slightly metallic. Recycled. He begins to walk uphill, figuring that the slight incline will help him find Spock- if that’s still his goal. Still, he doesn’t see how he’s going to make it much further without him.

Still moving, he cranes his neck upwards. In the darkness, it’s hard to tell- the flashlight beam won’t reach that far- but he can just make out a large hole in the glass above him.

As if someone has smashed their way in.

The gap has been sealed by the self-repair protocol: a thick layer of fast-drying plastiform. He picks up the pace, pointing his flashlight at the ground as he comes over the crest of the hill-

A runs bang-slap into the side of a dark grey shuttle.

“Drop the weapon!” A voice growls behind him.

Jim blinks, and steps back from the metal surface. “No… It’s just a flashlight,” he stammers.

Something is pressed to the back of his head. The barrel of a phaser.

“Then drop the flashlight,” the voice growls. “A phaser blast at this range… That’s not something you come back from.”

The flashlight slips from his hands, and his heart pounds. He turns his head slowly.

“Don’t move.”

In the glare of the shuttle lights, Jim can’t see much, but he can just make out a pair of eyes, staring him down.

“Leland-?” Jim realises, as something hard crashes into the back of his head, and he crumples to the ground.

Jim wakes up at the back of the shuttle, lying on one of the stiff benches Starfleet was fond of calling ‘beds’. His head throbs, and he pushes himself up on his elbows with a slight groan. “What…?”

As he sits up, a thin blanket tumbles from his shoulders, and he feels immediately colder. Spock sits in one of the seats facing him, his gaze fixed on the wall, and Leland sits in the pilot’s seat. Jim stares at the back of his head, eyes bleary. He has short, dark brown hair, and a dark grey uniform.

Leland turns to him, and Jim spots a dark Starfleet badge on the front of his shirt. He throws Spock a questioning look, but he keeps his eyes fixed straight ahead, his lips pursed.

Leland smiles. “Hey, Jimbo-”

“It’s Jim.”

“- James,” Leland waves a hand. “I’m sorry about pointing a phaser at you back there.”

Jim gives him an awkward nod. “It’s… fine. But-” He rubs the back of his head. “You do know those things have a stun setting, right?”

Leland smiles. “Well; I had no idea who you were.” He glances at Spock. “Tell him.”

Spock looks up. “He had no idea who you were,” he says, robotically.

“… It’s okay.” Jim glances between them, trying to work out the shift in the atmosphere while still nursing a headache.

“It’s not okay!” Leland insists. “We’re a team now, so we’ve got to trust each other.”

Jim closes his eyes. “Yeah, sounds good,” He murmurs. He leans his head back against the wall.

“Really?” Leland asks. “Because you don’t sound that enthusiastic.”

“I’m just-”

Leland snaps his fingers twice. “Spock?”

“You don’t sound that enthusiastic,” Spock says, dutifully.

“Alright,” Jim exhales, and glowers at him. “It’s just: if we’re a team, then I’d prefer to know who I’m working with. I mean; you can’t be Starfleet.”

Leland turns back to the viewscreen, and fixes his gaze on space.

“Or, maybe you could tell me what we’re doing-?”

“Relax. I’ll tell you the specifics when you get there.”

“But-”

Leland begins to hum to himself, and Jim’s gaze flicks to Spock. He, too, remains silent.

He surveys the shuttle. There are about six seats in total- seven if you count the bench- and everything is a dark grey. Whoever designed the interior was a utilitarian, not an artist.

There’s a pile of clothes at the back of the shuttle, and Jim notes that Spock, too, has changed into what appears to be a modified Starfleet uniform. He doesn’t recognise the badge, and wonders if they can really have gone through such an extensive redesign in six months. It’s sleek, all-black, identical to the one Leland is wearing. The last he’d heard, Starfleet didn’t even exist anymore.

He rifles through the pile of clothes at the back of the shuttle, and changes into a pair of jeans and a red plaid jacket, feeling immediately warmer. As he swaps out the grey jumpsuit, he removes the knife from it, and slips it into his jeans pocket instead. Spock watches this without comment, but quickly looks away when Jim meets his eyes

Jim studies the tense way that Spock holds himself. His hands are tucked away, arms folded just a little too tight across his chest. The shuttle’s internal temperature is probably only programmed to account for human standards, and he knows Vulcans are accustomed to warmer temperatures. Wordlessly, he reaches for the fallen blanket, and holds it out to him. Spock stiffens, and fixes his eyes on it. He doesn’t seem to want to make the first move. Jim leans forwards, and drapes the blanket over his shoulders in one smooth motion.

Jim drifts off. When he next wakes up, the ship is orbiting a purple-blue planet covered in rivers and forests. The readout says it’s M-Class, but it appears to be deserted- no civilisation of any kind, with the exception of one, very faint, signal.

“What is this planet?” Jim asks.

Leland barely looks up. “Heirin.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“You wouldn’t have. This is Klingon space.” He nods to something out of the port window. “There’s an outpost on that moon which monitors most of the traffic in this system.”

Jim looks up sharply. “And they just let us wander in?”

“The magnetic disturbance from the asteroid belt on the other side of the system should have masked our signatures. Besides; they’re not on the look out for a little ship like this.”

Jim searches the skies in the direction indicated. “Let me guess; this is going to be our little hacking project?”

Leland gives him a look. “We want you to shut down the outpost via remote link. Heirin is just going to be our base of operations.” He grins, and sets the shuttle on a landing path on the night-side of the planet. Jim watches the tops of the purple-leaved trees get closer, and

“And, when the Klingons find out about it?” Jim asks.

“Relax. It’ll be a long time before they can find someone brave enough to investigate.”

Jim folds his arms. “Klingons aren’t famous for their cowardice.”

“No, they’re not,” Leland hums. “But, for this planet, they’d make an exception.”

The shuttle continues to descend, flying over the purple-leaved trees and passing over vast swathes of pink fields. They cross over a wide river, flying low over a forest which looks distinctly greener than the others they’ve passed so far. Up ahead, a tall structure rises from the trees.

It’s three three stories tall, and made mostly of dark metal. A gap in the center suggests that part of the building has since fallen away. They land in a clearing, to the right of it. Jim steps out of the shuttle, and surveys it from this new angle, as Leland and Spock unload a case of supplies from the back.

“Where’s the server room?” Jim asks.

Leland arches an eyebrow. “You don’t need to see it yet. Relax a little.”

“Right… but you do have one, right? This place looks pretty broken down, and I can’t hack a Klingon outpost from this distance with your shuttle alone, no matter how high-tech it is.”

Leland stares at him for a moment, his expression suddenly sombre. “If I told you where it was, what’s to stop you from shooting me?”

Jim gives a little huff of laughter. “I can think of many reasons, Leland, but number one would be: I don’t even have a phaser.”

Leland laughs in return. “Yeah?” He hands him one. “Well, you do now.”

Jim stares down at his hands in surprise as Leland begins to move towards the stronghold, whistling.

‘What the fuck is wrong with him?’ Jim mouths, but Spock only stares at him.

“Cosy,” Jim comments, as he hauls the first crate into the central hall. Everything about the stronghold speaks to Klingon architecture, but the interior has clearly been redecorated by humans. Large rugs and carpets cover sections of the floor. A wide sofa and two arm chairs sit on one side of the room, with a dining table on the other side.

He prises the top off one of the crates, and peers inside. It contains numerous phaser power-packs. “I don’t think we’ll be needing all of these,” he says, with a nod to the far wall.

An innumerable collection of weapons adorn them, of Terran and Klingon origin. They’re assembled with seemingly little order, hung at irregular intervals by nails hammered into the wall. Five bat’leth’s, a crossbow with a laser, and a gin'tak spear. There are others, too- Romulan, Andorian- things he can’t quite place.

“Whoever was here left in a hurry,” Jim says.

“Or, they never left at all.” Spock says quietly.

On the opposite wall is a large fireplace, comprised of neat, pink stone. The Mantelpiece almost looks like granite, although it’s much smoother. The material is probably local. A single staircase stands to the left of the fireplace, ascending through to the next level. The dining table sits to the left of this, just in front of the windows.

Jim wanders through a set of glass doors, and out onto the balcony.

A Veranda wraps around the second level of the stronghold, seemingly an afterthought: unlike the rest of the building, it is fashioned from a pale, beige wood. It doesn’t resemble any of the trees he’s seen on the planet so far, and he wonders if it’s been imported. He could almost believe it was built by humans, but the pillars follow the trappings of Klingon architecture: angular, wooden supports, slotted into reinforced bases. Still, it could all have been done in an attempt to mimic the existing styles. The one anomaly is a single, spiral staircase just off the center of the platform.

He keeps walking until he gets to the end of the allotted area. There’s a second, smaller communal area attached to the Veranda, fashioned from the same imported wood. Tattered banners adorn the walls, a dusky red: The emblem of the Klingon empire. Three triangular spikes jut out of a ring of white, and Jim stares at the symbol, rooted to the spot, realising for the first time that he’s deep in enemy territory.

In front of the flags is an alcove, which someone has evidently attempted to make comfortable by adding flimsy red cushions. Still, if this was intended as a place to sleep, he can’t imagine it would suffice, because, despite all its comforts- and the ceiling overhead- it is still, technically, exposed to the elements.

There are more pillars laid out in front of the alcoves. As he goes further into the area, his eyes widen, and he stops walking.

“Leland?” He calls over his shoulder.

There are footsteps as Leland approaches, and surveys the carnage in silence.

Blood stains the base of the pillar, some red, some magenta, and the cushions have been scratched up. There are places where the furnishings have been ripped away entirely, and one of the cushions is a deeper red than the others; a carpet placed over a strategic place on the floor. A single blade lies on one of the scuffed-up cushions. It’s Klingon: the blade is shaped like an arrow, with a decorative line cut out of the center. A d’k tahg.

Leland approaches it with interest, and Jim spies a bloody handprint on the wall.

“I thought you said The Klingons never came here,” Jim breathes.

“Worried?” Leland grins, and reaches for the discarded d'k tahg. He twirls it between his fingers before adding it to his belt, a glint in his eye. “Don’t worry; by the time we catch their attention, you’ll be gone.” He claps him on the shoulder, and moves back along the balcony. Jim breathes shallowly, the feeling of foreboding intensifying.

They return to the shuttle via the spiral staircase, and finish unloading the supplies. Everything comes in unmarked boxes, but Jim assumes that the rest of this must be food- although, if anyone is the type to pack more ammunition than food, it’s Leland.

Jim leans on a crate. “You still haven’t told us what this place is, exactly.”

Leland shrugs. “I thought it was self-evident: An abandoned Klingon stronghold.”

“But why is it abandoned? They can’t have forgotten about it,” he says, with a nod to the pylon on the roof.

Leland grins. “The Klingon’s know about it, but they avoid this planet like the plague. There are a lot of… Superstitions attached to this place,” he says, cryptically.

“What; are you going to tell us a scary story?” Jim folds his arms.

Leland smiles. “I might. But you’d need to gather some firewood... Scary stories are best told around a campfire.”

Jim hesitates, and thinks of the nice, warm-looking fireplace in the cabin. Still, he wouldn’t mind the chance to explore- and to get away from Leland for a while.

“Fine.”

Spock stands stiffly, perhaps from the cold, and Leland turns to him. “Go with him, Spock. Make sure he doesn’t get… Lost.”

Jim spreads his arms wide. “It’s a big planet. Where am I gonna go?” He bellows over his shoulder. His voice echoes off the trees.

The bark of the trees here are tall and green, and he’s reminded, suddenly, of the moss back on Earth. The thought is accompanied by a familiar gut-punch, so he instead focuses on the plant life which surrounds them. The trees are surprisingly thin, despite their great height. He’s so busy craning his neck that he stumbles on something hard. He braces himself on a nearby tree, and Spock comes to a sudden stop behind him. The rock he tripped on is covered in a thin layer of bioluminescent fungus. The mushroom itself is a bright, sickly shade of green, though the light that it emits is more pleasant, soft lime.

Behind him, Spock shuffles restlessly, so Jim steps to the side. They make fleeting eye-contact as Spock takes the lead, treading a path through the untouched undergrowth. Though he’d never admit it, Jim feels a small thrill of adventure. He remembers the days when he wanted to join Starfleet; the promise of exploring the unknown too tempting to resist- before The Unknown came to kick their ass.

Jim watches the back of Spock’s head, and wonders what’s going on in there. The man he’d met on Mars Colony and the man in the shuttle were two very different people, which he’d initially blamed on Leland’s influence. Still, there’s something unsettling about Spock’s continued silence.

“So, tell me,” Jim says. “Why were you in that prison? Leland couldn’t do his own dirty work?”

Spock barely glances at him. “He would have been recognised.”

“I’m sure.” Jim trots alongside him. “But, you being in there- that wasn’t just a cover, was it?” He studies Spock’s profile as they walk, trying to work out how close he is to the truth.

A cyan light shines off Spock’s face, and still, he says nothing.

“C’mon,” Jim swipes a branch out of the way. “A guy like you should have made Captain in what, five years, maybe six?”

Twigs snap underfoot.

“That was your goal, was it not?” Spock says, finally. “To become the youngest Captain in Starfleet history, on a bet?”

Jim straightens up a little. “How did you know-?”

“-And the reason you thought it necessary to cheat on The Kobayashi Maru.” He raises a brow pointedly, and sets off towards the woods at a fast march.

Jim slides on loose stones as he hurries after him. “You knew Captain Pike,” he realises.

“Yes.”

“So, it wasn’t your aspirations which landed you here. A mistake, then?” A branch catches in Spock’s hair, and ricochets back into Jim’s face. “Ow!” He hisses.

Spock glances back. “A mistake.”

Jim glowers at the back of his head, and rubs his jaw. “I’ll say,” he mutters.

“Perhaps-” Spock halts without warning “-We are both here for reasons outside our control.”

Jim rubs his nose.

“- As you said earlier; it is a big planet.” Spock turns to him. “Big enough that it is not entirely inconceivable that you could make it back to the shuttle without Leland’s notice.”

Jim blinks at him. “I’d need the keys for that,” he says, finally.

“You would,” Spock says, neutrally. “And you would find them, in my pocket.”

“I wouldn’t get very far.”

“Perhaps. But, the treatment Klingons give their prisoners is likely to be kinder than Leland’s.” He turns to keep walking, but Jim grabs his elbow.

“And, what; you want me to strand you here with him?”

“Preferably not. But, whoever leaves will have a greater chance of escape as long as the other keeps him distracted.”

“Then- why not you?”

“I am responsible for bringing you here.”

He chuckles softly. “Perhaps. But I chose to come. And I’m not leaving without you.”

His eyes dart to him. “Then you are a fool.”

Jim grins. “And I thought it was obvious.”

[Front Cover] [chapter 1] [Chapter 2]

#star trek fic #tomorrow never comes #spirk fic #spirk #star trek aos

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 4 years

Text

The Captain’s Woman Part Five

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist Pairing: MirrorVerse!Pike x Reader Notes: Long-ish chapter? Ish? Not beta-read Klingon translations for later down the chapter: *take the little one to the brig **get the girl Warnings: Canon-typical violence Rating: T (might go up) Summary: My mind was going in circles at a mile a minute, and I was making myself dizzy.

I had still been packing when the Captain had given the scouting party their briefing but if the wary looks they were giving me was anything to go by, it had come with a hearty warning about me. I hadn't seen Pike before I'd been loaded onto the vessel; I had seen Number One. She had given me a Phaser; her expression had a warning, a wordless 'don't you dare'. As much as the Captain's first-in-command scared me, I knew that I would take any necessary actions to to protect my own life - if the need arose. I had settled myself behind the pilot's seat, my bag between my feet and the Phaser tucked into the inside pocket of my oversized coat. I'd watched the Enterprise out the window until I couldn't see it anymore. I couldn't stop my leg from bouncing, and I found my fingers itching for the Phaser, if not to take action, but to prove that I even had it.

Not that that would do any good. I wasn't going to take any action against the crew - there were five of them, and one of me. Even If I did manage to overpower them and commandeer the vessel, what would I do? Go back to my mother, explain the blood-thirsty action was taken in her honor, and that I realized I needed to do better by her? I'd be able to shield myself from the Enterprise's wrath behind Michael for a time, perhaps. But I couldn't bring myself to do that to Pike. He'd put me on the shuttle to protect me. ... Unless of course this was all a ruse, he did plan on killing me, and he'd sent me along with a scouting party to have me killed and make it look like an accident. But then, why would he have ordered Number One to give me a phaser? Unless Number One had acted of her own volition? My mind was going in circles at a mile a minute, and I was making myself dizzy. "Up ahead." The voice of the pilot broke through my thoughts, and I leaned forward to see what they were talking about. It was a warbird; it looked dark, blown to hell. "Romulan?" Another asked. "Klingon," I corrected, ignoring the sharp looks cut in my direction. "No life signs on board," Nhan reported; I'd seen her on the bridge the few times I'd visited. "Might be munitions on board," Connolly offered (the one betting illegally on the baseball team, I'd found out). "What do we do with her?" Five sets of eyes settled on me, and i fought the urge to shrink back. "You're coming with us," Nhan said flatly, nodding me toward the back of the ship. I reluctantly stood, following her and Connolly. "Stay close to us," She said, nodding to the man. He and I eyed one another warily. I only looked away to take the EV mask that Nhan held out to me. "Why do you need me to board with you?" I asked. "Because," was Connolly's flat, dead-end response. Nhan stepped into my field of vision, holding the grip of a Phaser out to me. "You know how to use this?" Another Phaser? They must not know I had one on me in the first place. I nodded, and she passed it to me. "The last thing we need is for you to try and jettison yourself into the Nebula," Nhan answered the question Connolly wouldn't. "You turn that on either one of us and you'll never make it back to the Enterprise," Connolly warned. I didn't answer, instead activating my EV mask as we boarded the warbird. The vessel was eerily silent. I hated abandoned ships - the dreaded quiet where there should've been the hum of machinery, activity, life. Our boots thudded along the hall as we crept about, Phasers in our hands and at the ready. "Which way to the bridge, do you think?" Connolly asked, looking around. I recognized the narrow corridor, could practically hear the bark of, 'IoQ wa'neh brig puHich'*. I shivered at the memory before directing them to the right. "It's that way." Connolly and Nhan frowned at one another, not even bothering to hide their skepticism. "What have I got to gain by lying to you?" I asked. They hesitated before Nhan took the lead. I followed behind, with Connolly bringing up the rear. We found the bridge in a matter of minutes. Nhan hurried ahead to the damaged control panel, tucking her phaser into its holster. "How did you know?" Connolly asked, looking around. I shrugged, lowering my own phased. "I was taken captive by Klingons as a child, passed between a few different ships. Some features vary from model to model, but the layout is basically the same." Connolly grunted. "Stay here," he ordered before disappearing down the hall. I turned to look at Nhan, who was deeply immersed in her work. "Can you read Klingon?" Nhan asked. "No," I shook my head before wandering over to the window. "...We should go soon," I warned, "If those clouds are anything to go by, a storm it on the way. It'll make it difficult to beam back to the ship." "Pike's or not, you aren't in any place to give us orders," Connolly sneered as he came back onto the bridge. I turned to face him, glaring. "No ammo?" Nhan asked. "Nothing," Connolly confirmed. "It wasn't an order, it was a suggestion," I corrected. "Then put a cap on that suggestion until you're back on the Enterprise with someone that actually wants to hear it." I didn't bother to mention that I was moderately certain the Captain couldn't give a tribble's ass what I thought, but I didn't have time. "We have incoming," Nhan warned. I hardly had time to draw my Phaser before a half dozen Klingons materialized on the bridge, nearly distinguishable in their armor, save for their forehead ridges under their helmets. I dove behind a control panel, Phaser clutched to my chest as enemy fire whizzed past my head. Connolly was by my side in seconds, crouching down, raising his head and Phaser every few seconds to return fire. "Cover me!" I looked to my left to see Nhan crouched behind a console. I nodded, steeling myself before I stood, raising my Phaser and firing at one advancing Klingon. I managed to strike one, catching them between their helmet and chest plate. I dropped back down between Nhan and Connolly. "There's a weakness in their armor, around the neck," I reported, resting my head back against the console, "What's the plan?" "Depends, how many are left?" "Four," Connolly reported, "And they've blocked the exits." "I think we found the rebel party," I grimaced. "See if you can get a lock on the Enterprise," Nhan said, shoving a Communicator into my hands and taking my phaser. Before I could argue, she stood with Connolly. I fumbled with the Communicator, bringing it to my lips. "Enterprise, come in, Enterprise!" I could hardly hear myself over the commotion of the fight; I didn't dare look. I heard crackling from the other end of the Comm and I hurried, rattling off our coordinates. I'd been so caught up on being accurate that I hadn't seen a Klingon round to my cover. I cursed, scrambling to the side, dropping my Communicator in my haste. I reached for it and missed, losing the equipment under the blade of the bat'leh. "Three," I heard Nhan yell. I sprang up, ducking under the blade's swipe at me before I went for the Klingon's legs, taking them down. Connolly was on us in seconds, striking the Klingon at the armor's weak spot. "Two," He smiled, pleased with himself before he turned, Phaser raised. Before another shot could be fired, golden light engulfed both Nhan and Connolly disappeared. I stood, stock-still for a moment, waiting for the same to happen to me. Only, it didn't. "be'Hom Suq,"**. I reached into my coat, pulling my phaser from my inside pocket. I took a couple of steps back, Phaser raised. "Lower your weapon," One growled in a thick voice, taking a step toward me. I took a step back, glancing around. I'd never make it to the door; if I tried to bust through a window, I'd be sucked into space, but maybe that wouldn't be so bad? I blinked, hands shaking on my phaser. When I opened my eyes - there was Pike, drawing the blade of a knife out of a Klingon's neck, splattered with their pink blood. The remaining Klingon let out an outraged scream, turning on Pike. I couldn't get a lock on either of them as they struggled with one another. After a moment, Pike's blade fell to the floor. He raised his hands as the Klingon pressed a bat'leh to his neck. "Lower your weapon," The Klingon growled again. My eyes darted to Pike; he was watching me closely; I swore I could see the wheels turning in his head. I had a choice. I could easily take out both Pike and the Klingon, take my chances with what was on board, and disappear into the Nebula. I need never board the Enterprise again. I hesitated, crouching as I began to lower my phaser to the ground. I tipped the weapon to the ceiling, firing once. As the Klingon looked up, distracted, I fired at the gap in his armor. He dropped to the floor, his clattering weapon falling with him. Pike looked down at his body, then turned to me. I let go of my phaser, holding my hands up in surrender as he walked toward me. His hands came up, and the fear in me expected a slap. I closed my eyes, waiting for a blow. Instead, he cupped my cheeks. "Are you alright?" he asked softly. I opened my eyes, looking up at him and nodding quickly. "Why wasn't I beamed out?" I asked. His jaw clenched. "Ryan paid off someone in my transporter room. He's been put in an agonizer, he'll be punished accordingly." I nodded. Pike pulled his Communicator out of his pocket. "This is Captain Pike. Two to beam out." -- "So, what are you going to ask for from his ship?" I asked. Christopher glanced back at me, amused by the question. I had cleaned up before I settled on our bed, legs folded. Christopher had insisted I take care of myself first, despite the fact that he was the one that had been sprayed in Klingon blood. I knew he'd gone to the transporter room and airlocked the traitor. "I haven't thought about it," He said. I eyed the scars that littered his back and shoulders as he sat on the edge of the bed, a PADD in his hands. "He's a collector a things. I'm sure he'll have something worth taking on board," I reminded him. Christopher grunted. "I already notified him and the Emperor," He told me, "We should be clear of the Pergamum in a couple of days." I hesitated before I scooched forward, plastering myself against Christopher's back, resting my forehead against his shoulder. I waited to be pushed back or nudged away. Instead, he reached back, resting one hand on my leg. "You saved my life today," He said softly. I lifted my head, resting my chin on his shoulder. "We saved each other's," I corrected, "You didn't have to come after me yourself, but you did." Christopher craned his neck to look me in the eye. "I didn't want you to think I'd abandoned you," He said quietly. I wrapped my arms around his middle, turning my head and pressing my face into his neck. I felt him set the PADD aside, resting his hand on my arm. "Why did you give me a phaser?" I asked, voice muffled against his neck. He huffed a laugh. "I wasn't going to send you out there without protection." "You trusted me not to use it." "...Maybe I'm putting a nail in my coffin by saying this, but I trust you," He said firmly, "You could've killed me today." "You could've too. Or had your crew do it." "Then we're at a pleasant impasse." I hummed in agreement. "Are you tired?" he asked. I nodded. "Alright. Bed, then," He said, wriggling a little. I let go of him, sliding back and slipping under the covers. Christopher stood, putting the PADD away before he climbed into bed beside me. The lights dimmed, and I closed my eyes. Christopher's hand found mine under the covers.

#Christopher Pike #Chris Pike #christopher pike x reader #star trek: discovery #mirror! christopher pike #mirror michael burnham #mirrorverse #mirror!number one #mirror!Pike #Mirror!Nhan #Mirror!Connolly

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nonbinarysaavik · 5 years

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(1) Idk if this has been observed before but I have this theory that the Klingons, Romulans, and Vulcans are just a personified timeline. Think about the history and progression of Vulcan. They started out as a warrior people. They were so emotional that the only way they could cope with such strong feelings was through violence. Their society functioned on pride and ones ability to drop a hoe You would be knocked out for alleged side-eye. Sounds more than a bit Klingon, in my opinion.

(2) Then, things began to change. They see how dysfunctional their ways are. Their behavior is downright counter productive. To reach optimum performance they have to find a way to evolve past their urges. They find a way through unity and logic. They cut their hair the same way, focus more on education, begin to form centralized, fair government. Note: I’m not sure how long Vulcans transtionary period was. That could put a little bit of a damper on this theory, I know.

(3) Vulcan. Stoic, unified, sassy, and more misunderstood than ever. A race that has found the balance between emotion and logic. They are no longer overwhelmed with desire like Klingons and are more welcome to compromise than Romulans. The Vulcans are not perfect. They still have illogical prejudice towards other species and are not completly comfortable with the fact that they do have emotions whether they like it or not. However, they are better than they once were.

(4) Conclusion: The history of Vulcan is told through Klingons and Romulans. Given they all share similar physiology and philosophy, I do believe it’s a possible thought. If not, then it’s still fun. I’d like to know what you think about this whole thing. Only person I’ve talked about it with is my boyfriend and he knows next to nothing about star trek lol.

this would interesting for sure, if it were the case. it would seem necessary here that the klingon homeworld is also the original romulan and vulcan homeworld if romulans and vulcans share (very distant) klingon ancestors. so, if there were a group of klingons who would eventually become the vulcans who parted from the klingon homeworld and settled what is now known as the planet vulcan and adapted to it over many, many generations to produce the traits we see in vulcans now and then another split occurs when the surakian vulcans cast out the ones who rejected surak (romulans), who would then leave to romulus (which is notably closer to the klingon homeworld than vulcan is, and maybe suggesting sympathies for their roots?) while vulcan continues to develop and change into the home of the vulcans we see in the majority of star trek, it seems to check out?

the forehead ridges in romulans could either be explained by vulcans originally having them as well and their being kept in romulans while vulcans lost them due to some element of their lifestyle that was different, or that both vulcans and romulans were beginning to lose them, but interbreeding between klingons and romulans strengthened the trait? it all seems plausible. the only caveat is that the departure of the original vulcans (klingons at this point) from the klingon homeworld would have had to have happened a very long time ago to the point where it may be absent from klingon or vulcan/romulan history in any sort of detail. maybe vague and obscured by legends/myths/and other not-so-credible accounts. the separation between surakian vulcans and romulans happened thousand(s) of years ago and even then vulcans had existed on the planet vulcan with advanced technology for thousands of years before that (they had nuclear technology around the same time of the bronze age on earth) which calls into question whether the original vulcans would have had the technology to travel so far away from the klingon homeworld at that point

thanks for sharing; this was a cool observation!

#thepigeondrivesthebus

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jedwashere · 5 years

Text

A Billion Years Away - Chapter One

Empty In The Valley Of Your Heart.

***

It’s empty in the valley of your heart,

The sun, it rises slowly as you walk,

Away from all the fears and all the faults you’ve left behind.

***

Stardate 2507.03.22

U.S.S. Enterprise NCC 1701-I.

Whether deliberate or not on the part of several generations of Starfleet engineers, the Starships Enterprise almost all looked like ‘the’ Enterprise. There were design features that were common across the board: maybe not common to all ships, but there was always one of the key features present in every design. A saucer section, an elegant neck leading down into a sleek stardrive section, long nacelles swept back and extending out from the body of the ship. Oh, sure, a ship might miss out the long nacelles, or the swan neck might be shorter and more integrated, but there was never any mistaking the Enterprise when you saw her.

The U.S.S. Enterprise-I was the latest in that illustrious lineup of ships, and in many ways harked back to an older age. Starfleet, after a century of crises that had ranged from temporal manipulation to renewed hostility with Klingons to an invasion from outside the known universe (hadn’t that been a fun way to spend the 25th century?), had made a conscious effort (and not for the first time) to return to an age of exploration, hope, optimism. This was reflected in the classic lines of the I: her elegant swan neck leading from a round saucer to a cylindrical stardrive section, a glowing orange deflector array and thin, elegant pylons leading backwards to a pair of nacelles that were short, but stretched just far enough back to give the impression of length, movement, and speed.

This ship, Captain Alyn Jallistra had thought, when she first saw the Enterprise in drydock, was built for boldly going.

She had held onto that thought for the ten years she had commanded her, never letting it go. An unjoined Trill, Jallistra had always preferred the notion that life was short, to be lived, and then to be ended. Where all her colleagues and friends on Trill had been so eager to go and join with symbionts (or at least try to), she had been content to go to Earth, go through Starfleet Academy, and get her commission the old-fashioned way. Not that people still didn’t occasionally think she was a joined Trill.

It was an old irritant. Any time one of us is competent, or calm, or thoughtful, it’s never on our own merits, it’s because a symbiont’s doing it.

Still, she thought as she sat at her ready room desk, reading an old book. She had served as the Captain of this ship for a decade. Any old issues she might have had, she had long since gotten over.

The book was an older one, a prose adaptation of a holonovel: Captain Proton and the Dark Mirror. Written as an homage to science fiction books of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries by the late Tom Paris in the mid 25th century, it told of Captain Proton’s Encounter with an ‘evil universe’, and a gripping battle against dark forces.

It was all make-believe nonsense, of course. Real parallel universes, even the most extreme examples that Jallistra had read up on, were never so simplistic. Still, it was entertaining in its - what did they call it? ‘Campiness’?

Her computer beeped just as she reached a climactic moment where Proton had cornered his mirror self, the evil Captain Neutron (these names are ridiculous). Sighing, she marked her spot and put her PADD down, before tapping her computer's control panel.

“Authorisation Jallistra, Three Six Beta Upsilon,” she said with practiced ease.

A moment later, the image of a striking woman with brown eyes, greying hair, pale skin and the barest hint of a set of forehead ridges popped onto her screen, a soft smile upon her face.

“Captain Jallistra,” Admiral Kathryn Paris said evenly. “Good to see you,”

“Admiral Paris,” Jallistra replied evenly. “What can we do for you?”

“We’ve picked up something strange near your neck of the woods,” Paris replied. “It’s some kind of anomaly, originating in the Harlak system.”

“An anomaly?” Jallistra repeated. “What kind of anomaly?”

“We don’t know,” Paris replied quietly, “but it’s off the charts. You’re the nearest ship to the anomaly, so we’d like you to go take a look.”

Jallistra smiled. “Of course, Admiral. I’ll have us divert course immediately.”

“Good,” Paris said. She paused. “Be careful, Captain. If it turns out to be more than just a standard anomaly, I want you to pull out.”

Jallistra nodded. “I will take all the precautions I have to, ma’am.”

Paris smiled. “Good. Good luck, Captain. Paris out.”

Her image disappeared, to be replaced by the Federation’s symbol. After a moment, Jallistra let out a sigh, and tapped the intercom.

“Bridge, this is the Captain,” she said. “Please redirect our course to the Harlak system, warp six.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am,” the voice of Liam West, her alpha-shift Conn officer, said.

Well, there we go, Jallistra thought. Now we just have to see what happens next.

***

Erlös.

Lorca wasn’t used to comfortable beds, and so perhaps could be forgiven for making full use of it. He was lying down, the cover sprawled over his pyjama-clad body, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. The diffused light was brighter now, and he was forced to wince, but the light change was slower, so he accepted the pain.

He was lost in a flow of thoughts. One minute he was thinking of how he was going to pass off who he was - again - and the next he was remembering Michael Burnham, her eyes staring at him with…

… with what? Horror? Pity? Revulsion? All of the above?

I should never have gone back, the thought came, too quickly to be strangled in the crib. I should have stayed. Had medals pinned on me. Kept doing… what did they call it? Kept ‘boldly going’. Taken the hard jobs and won them for the Federation. I’d have been a damn legend.

And Burnham… Burnham with her gratitude, Burnham with her intellect, Burnham with that human heart that even a lifetime among Vulcans didn’t quell… she would have stayed with him. Been his officer. His protege. He’d have been able to leverage her commission, been able to win anything for her. In many ways, she was much easier than the Michael Burnham he had loved: his Michael had demanded an Empire, but all the Federation’s Burnham wanted was freedom, exploration, space.

All the things I love, Lorca thought. Or rather, all the things he had come to love. Perhaps it was the same thing.

There was a knock at his door, and before he could answer, a woman in more elaborate robes than Laurien’s entered the room. She was just as pale as Laurien, with white hair: despite this, however, she didn’t look a day over thirty. Lorca sat up.

“Captain Gabriel Lorca,” she said evenly. She looked around the room, before meeting his gaze. “I trust that the accommodation here has been sufficient for your needs. We have had few of your ilk here.”

Lorca gave another of his winning smiles. “Well, that bed’s certainly comfier than any starship billet I’ve ever been in. Any Starfleet Officer who doesn’t think that’s up to scratch probably needs a bit of a reality check.”

“I am glad,” the woman said. She smiled. “I am Eloise. I am the leader of the settlement here on Erlös.”

“Pleasure,” Lorca said. “I’m grateful you found me.”

“Perhaps you are,” Eloise said coyly. Before Lorca could ask what that meant, she continued. “Laurien reported that you say you command the starship Buran.”

“That’s right,” Lorca said, keeping his face neutral. Don’t give them an inch.

“Our people eschew technology,” Eloise said. “Dannik - did Laurien mention him?” At Lorca’s nod, Eloise continued. “Dannik is the one among us chosen to work with technology. I wanted to be sure of the details of who you are. And where you came from.”

Lorca found it was an effort not to frown, but he persisted. “Is there some confusion?”

“A little,” Eloise said. “When we found you, you had a stab wound that was quite severe, to the point where we had to have Dannik use our medical technologies on you.”

The way she said ‘technologies’ sounded like she was talking about magic. And yet she knew what Starfleet and the Federation was.

“You were also clad in clothing quite distinct from that which we are accustomed to Starfleet people wearing,” Eloise continued. “Much of it was burnt or otherwise damaged, but it was definitely not a Starfleet uniform.”

Not one you’d recognise, anyway, Lorca thought. Time to try out a story.

“That’s because it wasn’t one,” Lorca said grimly. “It was… it was the sort of attire my captors wore.”

“Your ‘captors’?” Eloise repeated.

“It’s… difficult to explain,” Lorca said. Gotta sell it, Gabe. “They were… it was…”

He shook his head, trying to give an impression of trauma. He’d certainly played that role before, thanks to his time playing Lorca of the Buran to Cornwell (damn her), Terral and just about anyone else.

“I understand,” Eloise said, apparently buying it. She smiled. “If you like, we can show you around while you’re waiting here for your people.”

Lorca nodded. “I’d be much obliged for a tour. Though, uh…” He motioned to his clothes. “Maybe if you’ve got a spare uniform lying around, I could swap into that? Walking around half naked doesn’t seem right to me.”

Eloise nodded. “Dannik will replicate a uniform appropriate to your rank, after he has sent the transmission. I will send Laurien with it shortly.”

“Thanks,” Lorca said, inclining his head. “I’m grateful.”

And despite himself, he was. These people had apparently patched him up: they didn’t have to, and if it had been his world, they wouldn’t have.

“And when we speak again,” Eloise continued, “we will speak of the means of your arrival.”

With that, she turned and exited the room, leaving Lorca to his thoughts.

‘Speak of the means of my arrival’, he mused. Be nice if I knew that myself.

***

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

#star trek discovery #fanfic #fan fiction #captain lorca #alternate universe #plot bunnies made me #not my fault lorca was awesome

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grimminsanity · 7 years

Text

Let’s talk about this.

Okay, but like. Can someone explain to me why there’s so much hate for the design change for the Klingons? I personally find them extremely interesting to look at, designed a lot more alien than before, and their armour is utterly stunning? Like, just, wow??? I mean, I get it, they’re not humans painted up to look different like in TOS, nor are they Klingons like Worf in TNG, or the pierced design in the AOS movies, but in my mind, I VERY much picture them to be Klingon like any other Klingons shown in the series., and BOI AM I GONNA TELL YOU WHY I THINK THAT.

(look at these handsome bois, all of them are the best.)

There was often times that people attempted to connect Klingon from TOS to the ones that were shown later with brow ridges because we as humans like continuity and want everything to flow together. However, it was hard to get a concrete answer to why exactly Klingon ended up looking as different as they did compared to their first version.

Some content in the form of the canon novels, however, may have given us an answer!

Keep in mind, this is what I know of the novels and, from my understanding, is considered canon since it was brought up in or hinted at in other media.

In them, it was stated that there was a type of Klingon augment virus that spread through a large portion of the population due to Klingon researchers attempting to create a strong, better Klingon by bio-engineering them. Through the use of human augment embryos left over from Earth’s eugenics wars that were found in a hi-jacked Klingon bird of prey that had been destroyed in orbit of the Qu’Vat Colony, they began to, essentially, splice it in with great caution. They did this in part because they feared human augments being staffed on ships would overwhelm the empire.

It worked, - how amazing right?!, - creating stronger and more intelligent Klingons, but a lot of the subjects that were used in these experiments began to show more physically human characteristics, from the simple to the blatantly obvious, including personality and loss of, - YOU GUESSED IT, - the well known forehead ridges!

(pictured: Klingon ridges dissolving due to augment DNA being used. also, a good Klingon ‘O’ face.)

One of the test subjects they used, however, had the Levodian flu, and the mixing of the flu with the augment DNA pretty much messed up all the controlled experimentation by the researchers and created an epidemic that nearly killed all the klingons.

Still with me?

Millions within months were infected. The researchers scrambled to attempt to find a cure. First, attempting to capture Doctor Arik Soong led nowhere as, lo and behold, the doctor was in a high security detention facility. Their next attempt was with Doctor Phlox with Phlox being forced to work with Antaak, the main Klingon researcher, to find that cure.

Problem is that the Klingon High Council got really tired of waiting for them to get it finished, and went on to destroy infected colony planets to clear the virus.

Basically, the research team was put under a heavy clock with nothing else to do but to not cure the virus, but stabilize it, because it would apparently take them weeks to try and make the cure. They were successful in stabilizing it early on in the infection, - after the cranial ridges had dissolved and some minor neural re-ordering had occurred (which caused the personality changes), - and with the help of Admiral Krell, they called off the destruction of the planets! The cure was made with the new amount of time and was passed around, helping solve the problem of the whole dying and mass extinction thing.

Problem is, the cure also caused many Klingons to lose their brow ridges.

(Antaak with his ridges, prior to the cure being administered.)

(Oh! And there they go, - poof! - post cure!)

Thing is, any descendants of these Klingons would pass on the genetic human-like appearance.

This all happened back in 2154!

The Klingons we see in TOS are placed around 2267 are the descendants of those same Klingons!

No one in the Federation really thought much else about it because they simply didn’t know any other Klingons aside from them!

Among the Klingon researchers and some of the population, there was a great worry that these same Klingons would be considered outcasts due to their appearance and mental and personality changes, - cowardice, in example, was one such problem - but, were later on able to hold positions of power, even receiving the title of Dahar Master and getting their statues in the Hall of Heros on Qo’noS - like, ie. General Kor in TOS which many people are familiar with!

Later on, it was available to some to get the brow ridges cosmetically added back on; however, there may have been more done, medically, that helped reinsert the Klingon head ridges as we see them from TNG and later on.

HOWEVER.

ALL OF THAT SAID.

HERE COMES MY HEADCANON OR UNDERSTANDING OF THE SITUATION FOR WHAT WE SEE IN STAR TREK: DISCOVERY.

Some times, Klingons considered these ‘augmented’ Klingons to be lesser then and were not ‘True Klingons’, - and as far as I remember, this is a thing that was talked about in canon as well, - and lo and behold, the idea of purity comes into play!

Forget that it’s a fucking dick move to do, let’s try and keep Klingons pure, guys!

How do we keep Klingons pure?

Marry between the royal houses of the High Council.

OBVIOUSLY.

To us, that may seem weird and a little squicky, but consider that this is something that royal families in our past have done on multiple occasions! It wouldn’t be that far off from thinking that the Klingon royal houses would due the same! Due to this, there have been lots of medical and genetic problems due to families attempting to keep the line pure.

Anywhere from reduced intelligence or personality changes to physical deformities, - larger, oddly shaped heads, cleft lips, blood disorders, - to what else you can think of!

While it seems that the Klingons in ST:D are still, obviously, intelligent, it comes to our understanding that their physical differences are much different to what we have come to understand to be the norm in a standard Klingon.

The ridges are more aggressive, pushing out the profile as well as following the line of the neck into their armour, the brows heavier, the noses wider with two nostrils and no dip slope of the nose, no hair, oddly shaped heads due to the size of the ridges, most likely, smaller ears pressed closer to the skull, more slurring due to possible throat differences, and harsher, grating noises in the throat that we don’t normally hear even in normal Klingons.

Then again, that last one may be more due to a possible dialect change for spoken Klingon in the High Council or a possible House dialect, which, could also be possible. This is, after all, an alien language that we only know one side of.

I don’t know, my xenolinguistics is a little rusty!

Moving on to their armour, check out this utterly stunning costume design!

The Klingons in ST:D wear more ornamental armour then we’re accustomed to seeing, sharp and almost decorative in design, and possibly breakable, though I wouldn’t advise testing it!

However, these are Klingons, and while they don’t seem practical, you can be damn sure that they’re supposed to be used in combat even if they look like the way do in ST:D.

T’Khumva, - pictured above, - is wearing something a lot more decorative then what the rest of his people are wearing. A higher collar, sharpened points, aggressive, bold lines in a gold alloy trim, black leathers being the main base point with the gold being the accent, decorated the collar and points of the spikes with what looks to be stones. It seems he’s even wearing a house crest on his abdomen, though that may still be a design choice to go with the chest and collar piece pattern.

Let’s take a look at the others in his ‘court’.

Their style is simpler, with lower collars, with drabber and less prominent colour and designs with no aggressive lines or defining markers of a Klingon house. Less decorative and more practical. I wouldn’t think these Klingons to be servants, but maybe they are, or maybe they’re lesser nobles from lesser houses, who knows! But there is a harsh difference between their armour styles and the way T’Khumva wears his.

They’re from royal houses with those serving under them considered of their house, so obviously they’re going to wear what, to us, would be overly fancy, formal clothes, but with much more practical use to keep you from, you know, dying?

The design and style of them, from their armour to their physical appearance, even to their spoken words, phrases, and language, they are different, but not quite different enough, to not be Klingon.

All of this points to the factor that the houses have been inbreeding within their own genetic lines over a possibly lengthy time, - ST:D happens a decade prior to TOS and the virus happened 113 years in the past, a decent time for gestation and passing of genetic material dependent on Klingon breeding and reproduction standards, - and have slowly pushed further and further out from what is commonly known as the standard Klingon.

Who knows, maybe they’ve been doing this for centuries?

I understand that people are upset about the design change due to something they have always known being shifted so drastically, I get it, but consider what I said!

What we are seeing, the Klingon High Council and their houses, could quite literally be extremely inbred specimens born from attempts of keeping the blood line pure.

I’m totally open for comments, critique, and further speculation if anyone wants to add more to this or to argue this!

IwlIj jachjaj! Qapla’!

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aceofwands · 6 years

Text

Ria hateblogs Discovery Episode 8 “Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum”

short recap straight into the intro again, so clearly got a lot going on this ep :P

we finally see a bit of the actual war! random Federation ship being attacked by 6 Klingon vessels (which look nothing like Klingon ships it's so frustrating)

Discovery come in to save them

Lorca is yelling at this weapons officer so much and he's just suuuuuuch a jerk

the bridge crew looks so cool that it annoys me we know 0 about them!

the battle sounds ... like a video game ... and it annoys me so much

they had a chance to show a random captain who was a) an alien, b) a woman, c) not white - but no, the captain of the other ship is another white guy

lol they failed to stop the other ship from blowing up ... and now are getting out of there ... Lorca is gonna be pissed - oh yeah, he's giving a little speech about how it's not time to grieve

it just seems SO silly that the Discovery is the solitary saviour of Federation ships, like it just contributes to feeling like there isn't really a war going on??? it feels so isolated to just the Discovery ...

oh lol Stamets just stumbled out of the chamber after using the spore drive and Tilly asked if he was alright, and he said 'what are you doing down here Captain?'

like ... these characters are so one-dimensional??????

her defining characteristic is that she's gonna be a captain

and it's just soooo boring?

Stamets is now yelling at Tilly because she was confused at him calling her captain LOL

Lorca is talking to a vulcan admiral and asking why they were the only ship in the sector and the only ones able to render aid

YES TELL US

apparently the 2 other ships were also simultaneously ambushed ...

the klingons are sharing stealth technology

THEY DO NOT HAVE CLOAKING TECHNOLOGY YET

I don't CARE if you're gonna call it 'stealth technology' that is a fucking COPOUT

Michael, Tyler and Saru are on a mission to some planet to find something to help with this stealth tech

... the natural formations of this planet (trees, rocks, etc) vibrate with a specific tone ... okay Michael's explaining this stupid biological technology ... and how they're going to use it like a sonar to detect the Klingons

why is this science so dumb?

they're now talking about how fast Saru can run. as a prey species. and how acute his senses are compared to theirs

glowly clouds just floated down in front of them. some sort of lifeform that Saru is now talking to. they're now surrounded by like 5 of them

aaand we're cutting back to the Klingons

great

I love seeing people not able to act

they just have no emotion, it's real sad

it's also hilarious how they have to add things like Kol's red striped face paint to distinguish them ... if only there was some way to make their forehead ridges individual LOL

already back to Saru and co

this story has jumped around a LOT in 10 mins

Saru getting to make first contact with the glowy alien. lol it zapped him. Michael's explaining that they now have to follow first contact protocol and can't use their transmitter without them agreeing

so like, actual Star Trek morals for a change, yay!

oh lol, L'Rell has come to torture the admiral who was kidnapped!

ahahahahahaha, L'Rell tried to intimidate her by yelling but the Admiral just screamed back. I wish we'd gotten a chance to know her better, but I suspect she'll be dead by the end of the ep

uuuugh already back to Saru WHY DO THEY SWITCH SO OFTEN IT'S DISORIENTING?

like ... it's not like they're leaving at dramatic moments???? gotta say something for commercial breaks when they give you a proper scene! this just jumps around at random moments after like a few mins have gone by

the glowy clouds have some sort of hut made of natural fibres ... which seems odd for a gaseous species ....Tyler is talking about how he wants to go fishing and camping when the war is over. but Michael's like lol, I'm going back to prison after this. and Tyler is like fine let's keep the war going then. their flirting is kinda cute and awww they're kissing

I am still 100% convinced he's going to be Voq. because this show doesn't DO subtle or nuanced!

cut back to Tilly who's come to ask Stamets wtf is up with this mood changes. he is not pleased at her asking. but he's explaining how jumbled he is

aaaaaaaaaaand he's now explaining that he HASN'T TOLD THE DOC ABOUT THESE SIDE EFFECTS

because he doesn't wanna be sent to some Federation lab. right because potentially compromising the safety of your crew by ignoring this is a GREAT solution!

Tilly is now saying they'll monitor the episodes and hopefully they'll pass. riiiiight cause this stuff usually gets better instead of worse!

how dumb are these people

back to L'Rell again. who's chatting with the Admiral about what the Federation does to prisoners. when she found out they don't have a death penalty, L'Rell claims she wants to defect .... because she's all alone ... and they have a ship waiting to escape

LOL she thinks the Discovery is the Admiral's ship and she'll take her back there! if the Admiral falls for this she's even dumber than she seems

aaaand back to Saru. lol he hasn't got far in first contact. the aliens ARE the planet apparently ... pretty cool actually

they're all having a snooze with no blankets apparently, but Saru is being effected by these aliens or something ... whoooo are now like surrounding him / going into him ... they're making him relive flashbacks from the first two eps lol. and now they flew away ...

idk this episode is less terrible than the others so far, but it's still somehow really boring ????

Saru is now acting suss. he just crushed their communicators lol! he says they're going to stay here on the planet .... cause the people on this planet are at peace .... .... he's now awkwardly stroking both their faces???

and Michael and Tyler are like well shit wtf do we do? Tyler says that as senior officer, they have to complete their mission.

back to L'Rell, who is leading the Admiral out of the ship ... they're about to get caught, so they're fighting each other to make it look like they don't get along. L'Rell just knocked out the Admiral ... unclear if she's dead or not

back to Saru again!!

Tyler's getting him to explain what changed for Saru (who was bothered by the frequency before) to distract from where Michael's gone

idk I can't even be bothered explaining some of the story stuff, cause it's so meh?

Tyler says he doesn't want the war to end cause he wants the Klingons to suffer - now Saru is trying to make him feel the peace and harmony of the planet with a rock .... but it just like zapped Tyler cause his intentions are false, he realised Tyler is distracting him lol

Michael has been running for the transmitter ... too bad they established how fast Saru can run earlier lol

the dramatic music is playing and Saru is running and she's setting up whatever they're doing .... and it's like ... .... who CARES

all the episodes where dumb stuff isn't happening, are still just amazingly dull?

this one has SO MUCH stuff going on that it just feels like stuff is ... happening

gotta say I much prefer the ol 5 act structure where shit actually happens - like this is not the kind of seriality I like? where episodes just contain like 3 different threads of stuff happening and it's like, who. cares.

back to L'Rell dragging the Admiral back - discovering a bunch of people she knows whose bodies have been eaten ... now swearing revenge on Kol blah blah blah

so it's unclear if the Admiral is dead - I'm now actually thinking she's alive??? but we'll see if that lasts next episode lol

back to Saru attacking Michael, destroying the equipment ... he's apparently super strong? ... Michael is shooting him .... she's giving him a little pep talk about how staying here won't fix anything, they can end the conflict of the war, blah blah

the cloud alien just teleported Tyler there so he can conveniently join this scene

Saru is now apologising, he was trying to protect the aliens ... but of course, Michael has to say the dramatic speech about how they need their help ... the transmitter is now activating ....

it's just ... so predictable ....

the dramatic music and looks of awe on their faces do not match what is happening on screen lol

they were beamed back to Discovery and Saru is upset ... just leave him there, he'll be much happier!

they're having ANOTHER conversation about their emotions (Saru and Michael)

back to the Klingon ship yet again!

L'Rell tried to leave Kol, but he isn't letting her lol. he's making her swear allegiance to his house and work as his interrogator. lol but doesn't believe her!

apparently the alien planet sent an invitation to the Klingons and Federation to meet up .... and Michael is explaining that the aliens wanted to make peace for them .... of course, setting it all up for the final ep next week

wooooooooooow that was boring

like wow

the teaser is all about the dramatic battle - Kol fighting Michael, the ship blipping around, Stamets being effected by the drive

massive yawn

#hateblogging #STD #seriously why are all episodes of this show either boring #or frustrating

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lookatypingbear · 7 years

Text

writetober: day 8

using this prompt list

8 October: Periapsis

“the point of closest approach between two orbits”

The harsh sounds of Klingon were audible even before the door to Admiral K’Ralta’s office opened. Tyler hesitated before ringing the door chime, but his only answer was an abrupt halt of the argument within and the admiral’s gruff, “Come in.”

Tyler touched the control, and the doors slid open to reveal the admiral sitting behind his desk and a woman who looked like she had just hastily backed up from leaning her hands against it to get in the admiral’s face.

Tyler had never known a Bajoran to go toe-to-toe with a Klingon like that, especially not if she were a commander and the Klingon an admiral.

“We’ll talk later, Krya,” K’Ralta said in a clear dismissal.

She shot him a quick glare and a word in Klingon that made Tyler’s eyebrows shoot up and walked out of the office, sparing Tyler a contemptuous glance.

“Please forgive the Commander,” K’Ralta said. “I don’t think she’s aware that you understand Klingon, but she will be soon, and I think the embarrassment will be sufficient reprimand.”

“Sir?” Tyler asked. “What do you mean?”

K’Ralta smiled. “I pulled some strings, Sloan. You have a new assignment.”

Tyler stepped out of K’Ralta’s office, his head spinning. An assignment to the flagship. As a bridge officer. As a twenty-four-year-old lieutenant junior grade. Pulled some strings, indeed. And he had a sneaking suspicion about the Bajoran woman, too…

Voices abruptly halted just a few yards from him, and Tyler looked over to see three people huddled together—and looking at him. The Bajoran commander’s gaze had lost none of its angry skepticism, and Tyler hoped it was just the ridges on the Klingon’s forehead making him look angry. The most human-looking of the trio looked almost…amused?

You must be Lieutenant Sloan. Welcome to the crew.

Tyler nearly jumped at the sound of a voice in his head. Sorry for the intrusion. Baki wouldn’t take kindly to me making nice with someone she’s mad at, the voice continued.

Tyler’s eyes flicked around the trio, landing on the human—no. Not human. His irises were pure black, no distinction between them and the pupil. Betazoid?

Correct, the Betazoid said in Tyler’s mind, amused. He turned back to the other two, nodding once, probably communicating telepathically with them too, and they started down the hall away from Tyler. I look forward to seeing you on the ship, Lieutenant.

Tyler watched them go, even more confused than he had been before the Betazoid spoke. Welcome to the crew? Were these three assigned to the flagship as well? The Klingon and the Betazoid had been in civilian clothes, though… And a full Commander, evidenced by the two silver bars on her jacket…oh fuck.

Dear Kiki, he started, composing his next message to his girlfriend in his head as he started the opposite way of the trio, I got my new posting two minutes ago, and I think the first officer already hates me.

“You shouldn’t be so angry at the lieutenant, Baki,” Lexie chided. “None of this is his fault.”

“He’s K’Ralta’s pet project,” Baki answered sullenly, leaning back against T’Nazzn’s chest on the couch. “And I don’t want to serve with Jimmy Sloan’s son. The father was bad enough.”

“At least the positions are reversed,” T’Nazzn observed. “First officer and helmsman. You’re his boss now.”

“He seemed all right,” Lexie assured Baki.

“Already poking around in his mind?” Baki asked, the first hint of amusement crossing her face. “Shouldn’t you introduce yourself first? Take him to dinner?”

“There’s our Baki,” T’Nazzn chuckled, hugging his wife closer.

“I don’t think you’ll have anything to worry about from Tyler,” Lexie assured. “Just don’t take out your anger at Jimmy on him.”

“We’re not on the ship yet, Lex; you don’t have to play counselor.”

“I’m your spouse, Bak. It’s my job even when I’m not on duty.” He leaned forward to lie against Baki’s chest, squishing his wife between him and their husband, to protests from them both. “We’ll be fine, Baki,” he assured her. “We’re going back to the stars, after all.”

#krya baki #t'nazzn griffin #lexanis sentta #tyler sloan #k'ralta #star trek project #writetober #shorts

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t-rina · 3 years

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Ash’s Star Trek Enterprise Rewatch:

4x16 Divergence

First aired: 25 February 2005

Synopsis: While Trip comes on board the Enterprise to reverse the malicious Klingon modifications, Phlox and Antaak find a cure for the virus that will not please the Klingon General.

Ash’s rating: 4/7

Enterprise is being attacked I think?

oh no the reactor is about to explode

Malcolm is supposed to bring Trip aboard while at warp speed

I’VE GOT I’VE GOT I’VE GOT

nyyyooommmm

Columbia and Enterprise matching speed

OMG ONE SHIP IS FLYING UPSIDE DOWN

Trip is changing ships…. on a rope?????? seriously??

that is insane

WARP FIELD IS FLUCTUATING

TRIP MADE IT

JUST BARELY

omg they gonna merge with Columbia’s warpfield even more so Trip can work on the engines or whatever

Trip, are you sure you know what you are doing?

they got warp power!

Antaak wants to end the way the Klingons are coping with this virus

uh oh, Phlox looks really bad

WHAT DID THEY DO TO PHLOX

Antaak is going to go against his orders

why are they so rude to Malcolm?

“the house of Phlox” xD

oh noo, Antaak has been disowned by his dad :/

honor this honor that fuck this shit

oh boy, things between T’Pol and Trip are kinda tense

uh oh, the Augment Klingons are sick

they are afraid that they won’t look Klingon

Harris (the section 31 guy) is talking to Archer!

Phlox has been kidnapped on purpose? I mean it was somehow initiated by Starfleet?

ethics? what the fuck are ethics?

Malcolm thought he was done with this section :(

Malcolm has to choose where his loyalties lie…

they are going to a Klingon research facility now in the hope of finding Phlox there

Phlox has four possible cures, only one will work, the other three who are injected will die

oh no, Antaak is not well

ARCHER IS THERE TO RESCUE PHLOX

PHLOX LIED

HE DEVELOPED A CURE AND DIDN’T PERFECT THE AUGMENT GENOME

(this probably has been said before but I didn’t pay too much attention)

noooo, the Klingons wanna destroy the colony with the infected Klingons

Klingons are firing!

sfksdhfkshdfkshdkhsdkjfhsdk Archer is going to be infected with the virus so Phlox can harvest enough antibodies for the cure 0.o

uh oh, Archer does not look good

Enterprise trying to protect the colony ;-;

nooo Columbia lost weapons!!!!

daaammmnnn Archer almost broke free

he’s getting forehead ridges xD

THEY INFECTED THE KLINGON SHIP???

oooohhhh so they stop firing and get the cure :)

smort but maybe slightly unethical measures?

THIS IS HOW THEY EXPLAIN THE DISFIGUREMENT OF THE KLINGONS IN TOS

but what about the Klingons in Discovery??

I LOVE HERNANDEZ

Trip is staying on the ship for a while :)

T’POL YOUR FEELINGS ARE SO OBVIOUS

Malcolm off duty :)

ayyyyy he hung up on Harris!!! yasssss!!!

#ash's complete star trek rewatch #star trek enterprise rewatch #star trek rewatch #star trek enterprise #star trek #enterprise #st enterprise #st ent #ent #4x16 #divergence #4x16 divergence

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zamboni-whisperer · 7 years

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so Friday morning I had a very long and involved dream, which I thought after waking up I should put on tumblr. and then I was too cozy to get out of bed for another 15 minutes, with the entirely predictable result that I forgot everything about the plot.

I do remember the viewpoint character though- she was from one of those Star Trek alien species that have weird biology but somehow JUST HAPPEN to look exactly like humans with maybe some facepaint or weird ears. (And I don’t remember any particular “prosthetics” either, so we’re talking TOS pointy-eyebrowed Klingons, not TNG forehead-ridges Klingons.) Anyway, this was a species of social insects, but as they were evolving intelligence they also picked up a prolonged juvenile phase. This caused problems if, say, resources got abundant enough that you could split the colony, so you produce a new infant queen and start doing the human-shaped alien bee equivalent of feeding her royal jelly, and then 15 or 20 years later, just as she’s not quite ready to split the colony and go off on her own, resources get tight again.

(Awake brain points out that this scenario as written is actually a good thing, since presumably one established colony can survive on scarce resources better than two immature/weakened colonies. And that my dreaming brain seems to have entirely missed the much more likely problem of the old queen dying unexpectedly, and no new workers being born until the new one matures.)

Anyway, the solution the alien bees evolved and/or came up with was to have a kind of anti-royal jelly equivalent, which could pause development at the last stage before maturity with no ill effects, so every colony could have half a dozen people hanging around who were socially and functionally workers, but could at any point get their last dose of royal jelly and become a queen should a queen position open up.

Human translators, predictably, called this the princess instar. It actually kind of sucked.

Also, last night I had a dream which I also don’t remember most of, except that it involved a truly massive carnival on a series of barges, and Sherlock Holmes being very grumpy that he had to take a train to Wales in order to follow a soldier with very distinctive boots.

#dreams #dream diary #the sherlock holmes dream was almost certainly influenced by watching leverage last night

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speedygal · 6 years

Text

Not a logical intervention - part 67

Kirk waited resting in a chair with trembling hands.

Doctor Hall informed him that they had the best Vulcan professional in surgery with Spock. The Vulcan professional had come along just in case of a bad case scenario like it happened. On his once bright white and black formal admiral wear was the shape of Spock’s head in faint green blood. Kirk’s fingers were set together. He was angry. He was upset. He was a number of things. This was never supposed to happen in Catalia’s joining of the federation. The surviving representatives were taken to their quarters, being treated for their injuries, or talking to a counselor regarding what happened. The look on Durches face when she looked over toward the man had fallen. They could not have missed anything for that matter.

They had gotten all the devices. He didn’t know how happened. How it happened. Kirk was in his black service boots with his head lowered. Kirk was having the cat cloned, quickly, in a science lab on the USS Hood with technology shared by the Catalians. A black kitten with the forehead ridge. It wouldn’t be the same without Italian in the Kirk house. Oddly quiet. Kirk would admit seeing Italian in Spock’s lap while listening to a novel was a comforting, yet soothing sight. The loud purring coming from the cat. It was a domestic sight that Kirk, himself, had decided was far too precious to let go. It was mainly for Spock’s comfort and his own. The cat, in every way, would be Italian. Nothing different about it. A officer in security yellow approached the man with a black insignia on the chest.

“I am Officer Reeds,” Reeds said.

Kirk stood up now in full height towering the much shorter man giving a death glare.

“Get. Out.” Kirk said. “Now.”

“We would like---” Reeds said.

“Don’t!” Kirk raised his voice, then added with a deliberate pause between each word. “Don’t. . . you . say . . . that.” He lowered his trembling index finger. Clear, concise anger was on his brightly red face with emotional hazel eyes. Kirk shook his head, half ashamed, half angered, at who he was seeing. “Out.”

“My superior--” Reeds started to say.

“I am your superior officer,” Kirk said.

“Thinks--” Reeds tried to finish.

“They should retire and go off to a penal colony,” Kirk said.

“You don’t want to go after the person who did this?” Reeds asked.

“I want no part in what you do. I am . . emotionally compromised,” his eyes acted as daggers toward Reeds. “I can’t be part of any mission related to Starfleet at this moment.” He made his way from the door. Then shifted toward the officer. “Is that clear, Officer Reeds.”

“Crystal clear,” Reeds said.

“Good,” Kirk said, walking away. “share that with your crewmates.”

"Uhhhh, I think one of us made a mistake here,” Ensign Washington said.

The small science group looked over to see a bright white flailing small wet creature waving its arms in the air covered in a thin film. Lieutenant Brooke, with Andorian qualities yet a Tellarite like nose, brought over a female cat that began to do the cleaning. The kitten mewed, high pitch, loudly.

“The cat is supposed to be black,” Cadet Mart said.

“Someone went wrong,” Washington said, as the small group looked in the direction of Telleriate Lieutenant Hancho.

“I don’t know what your dumb faces are looking at but I put in the gene for black,” Honcho said.

“Someone removed it,” Mart said.

“I didn’t!” Hancho said.

“I am pretty sure the admiral will like it,” came the voice of the head science officer. Mart, Hancho, Mart, and Brooke. The head science officer came to the group to see mewing kitten. They looked over in the direction of the head officer sheepishly. The head science officer looked over toward the mother cat then toward the kitten. “I am not sure what you are trying to do but making a kitten for your indulgence is not a reason why we have this equipment out.”

“We tried,” Hancho said. “It just. . .”

“Morphed on its own,” Brooke said.

“As we told you,” Washington said. “We have to read up on cat geneology and essays regarding cat DNA. If we’re cloning a genetically engineered cat then we have to do it right.”

The head science officer looked over toward the kitten now sucking on a nipple

“Klingons do mature quickly,” the head science officer said.

“Yes,” Mart said. “We don’t know how quickly this will make the kitten mature. Never been studied or observed.”

“Give it another go,” the head science officer said. “use the color orange.”

“Orange has nothing in common with the color black,” Honcho said.

“Try,” the head science officer said.

“And if you make another cat that is not the color that we want, one of you must keep it,” the head science officer said. “then hand over the white kitten to the Miller’s.”

Washington nodded.

“We will,” Washingon said.

“By the time we return to Earth, there must be a kitten,” the head science officer said. “no excuses.”

The head science officer turned away then strode on out of the science lab. The doors wooshed behind the officer. The small group of on duty officers glared at Washington as though she had promised the moon that could not be given. They faced in the direction of the cat the move on to their stations. On a blue scanner surrounded by a transparent barrier laid Italian on his side with a flattened torso with light brown dust bunnies covering the one fine poofy main coon cat fur. Mart came over to the body with a long hypospray placing it near the neck.

Orego entered the admiral’s quarters.

“I don’t need people right now,” Kirk said, standing in front of the large window in his black matching PJ’s.

The room was dark and gloomy. Kirk’s arms were folded. His matching admiral outfit was clean, yet laid on the table not taken care of as it should be. Orego noticed a vase, a pastel, on the floor. A roomba was taking care of that. The roomba’s humming was distinctive and pleasing in the unsettling silent room. There was no meows in the room. It was unsettling. Orego sensed a cat yet there was none. From the corner of his eye, he saw a rather heavy feline like figure dart by a chair.

“I know how it is when you lose a cat,”Orego said.

Kirk slowly turned from the window.

“It is like you have lost a good friend,” Orego said. “Less worse than you have lost your best friend,” he slowly walked in. “I lost a pet of mine in the field shortly after my defection. It was a vole.”

“A vole,” Kirk repeated, raising a eyebrow, placing a hand onto the couch.

“Yes, a vole,” Orego said. Kirk lowered his eyebrow yet still baffled. “My trusted friend to make life miserable as possible for those I wanted out.”

“I can see why it is gone,” Kirk said.

“It only died because of engineering,” Orego said. “they were . . experimenting. . at the time.”

“Did you lose the best friend you ever had during you defection?” Kirk asked. Orego was starting to speak but Kirk cut him off. “A Cardassian friend.”

“I did,” Orego said. “For a time, it seemed my life was dim. It was a long process.”

“I am not going to lose mine,” Kirk said.

“Yet you’re upset he is in surgery,” Orego said. “You know he will come out of this alive.”

"I am used to him saving me,” Kirk said.

“Oh,” Orego said. “I see.”

“Yes, that’s it,” Kirk said.

“Look at it this way,” Orego said. “he wouldn’t be on the operation table had you not gone after him. . . I am a terrible form of comfort. And I must say, I have another pest with me.”

“A rabbit,” Kirk said.

“Noooo,” Orego said. “Capybara. She is at home acting as a mother for rescued sehlat cubs.”

“Capybara’s are not pests,” Kirk said.

“On parts of Earth and severely colonies they are labeled as such,” Orego said. “then again, I have a bad taste in everything.” Orego had a short laugh to himself. Kirk didn’t laugh nor smile at the Cardassian’s attempt of humor with him. “There’s a good feel good movie recently added to the computer. AI, Artificial Intelligence.”

“I will give it a try,” Kirk said. “never seen that one.”

“Counselor Vores is willing to talk,” Orego said. “Or listen for that matter to you.”

“I will consider that,” Kirk said. “Happy to know you’re not interested in Section 31.”

“Section 31,” Orego said, annoyed. “Is the worst organization to exist,” he started to make his way out. “did they approach you? Which one? They promised me they wouldn’t be aboard the hood.”

“Reeds,” Kirk said. “Officer Reeds.”

Orego stopped at the doors then turned toward Kirk.

“You’re one of the good officers in the ‘fleet,” Orego said. “No wonder you are a Admiral.”

Orego walked out of the admiral’s room with a death glare on his face.

“Aren’t all officers good in Starfleet?” Kirk said, as he sat down onto a seat. He can feel new tears ready to sting his eyes.

#space fic #my fic

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spynotebook · 7 years

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All images: CBS

Hey, did you hear there’s a new Star Trek show starting September 24? Anticipation is mighty high here at io9—but for everyone who hasn’t been cataloguing every bit of info that CBS has revealed about Star Trek: Discovery on the long road to its debut, we’ve assembled this handy guide to get you up to speed.

Timeline and setting

Discovery, the sixth live-action Star Trek series, was initially announced as taking place in the prime timeline, the same universe as the other TV shows and their related films—but not the recent J.J. Abrams directed and/or produced movies. Since it takes place 10 years prior to the events of The Original Series, it’s more relevant to that show than Enterprise, which took place a century prior. That also means we’ll be seeing some retro-future takes on the classic show’s signature tech flourishes, including a variant on the phaser (though the badges and the flip communicators look fairly familiar). The Starfleet uniforms, however, are closer in look to Enterprise’s blue jumpsuits, rather than the classic colorful costumes of original Trek. (For once, though, away teams will get body armor, an idea that clearly fell out of fashion by the time Captain Kirk and company were boldly going beyond.) As the title implies, most of the action will center on the USS Discovery, though it won’t start there; instead, it seems we’ll first meet the main character when she’s serving aboard the USS Shenzou.

Main characters

Lt. Commander Michael Burnham (Sonequa Martin-Green)

Discovery’s protagonist is unique in the Star Trek pantheon for a variety of reasons. One is that—unlike Kirk, Picard, Sisko, Janeway, and Archer—Burnham is not (yet) a captain. Another is that she was raised on Vulcan after her birth parents (both human) were killed by Klingons. Her adoptive parents just happen to be Spock’s parents, Sarek and Amanda Grayson, and her unusual upbringing means she’s the first human to have attended both the Vulcan Learning Center and the Vulcan Science Academy. (This is the first we’ve ever heard that Spock had a sister, though one of Discovery’s producers insists there will eventually be an explanation for that.) Based on ominous hints we’ve seen in the trailers, an early episode will explain the incident that causes then-First Officer Burnham to leave the Shenzou, where she’s serving under Captain Philippa Georgiou (Michelle Yeoh), and end up on the Discovery, to be Number One under Captain Lorca (Jason Isaacs).

Sarek (James Frain)

We learned way back in January that Spock’s father was joining the show—as a younger version, quite obviously, of the character we first met on The Original Series. But it wasn’t until July’s San Diego Comic-Con that his specific connection to Burnham became known. In the first Discovery trailer, Sarek appears in a Vulcan flashback, as well as in hologram form to Burnham to counsel her about leadership. Sarek has a long history in Trek, first appearing with a strained relationship with his half-human, Starfleet son and eventually dying on The Next Generation, after sharing a number of intense scenes with Picard.

Captain Philippa Georgiou (Michelle Yeoh)

As mentioned above, she’s the top commander on the USS Shenzou. In the trailer, we learn that Burnham and Georgiou have been working together for awhile, and Georgiou has become confident that it’s time for her protégé to get her own command. That is, until something (maybe an alien object?) makes something (maybe very bad?) happen to Georgiou. We aren’t certain of her fate yet, but you might not want to get terribly attached to this particular character.

Captain Lorca (Jason Isaacs)

He’s the captain of the Discovery—but he’s not the star of the show, and that’s not the only thing that makes Lorca different from previous Star Trek captains. According to Isaacs, the character is “probably more fucked up” than most Starfleet officers, which means he’s been through some exceptionally crazy shit during his time in space. That’s a quality that could create an interesting dynamic between Lorca and Burnham; in the second trailer, he seems stern when speaking with her: “You helped start a war. Don’t you want to help me end it?”

Lt. Commander Saru (Doug Jones)

The alien science officer aboard the Discovery, Saru’s the guy who delivers the trailer’s most chilling line: “My people were biologically determined for one purpose alone: to sense the coming of death. I sense it coming now.” He’s a Kelpien, a race that’s new to both Starfleet and the Star Trek series overall; their ability to sense death evolved on a home planet where they were hunted as prey. He stands almost seven feet tall on his hooved feet. At SDCC, it was mentioned that Saru and Burnham have a “brother/sister relationship;” Jones has also said that Saru is a character equivalent to the Spock or Data of this series. That’s a telling description, since Trek loves to have a character with an alien point of view and, specifically, one who can comment on human characteristics.

Lt. Stamets (Anthony Rapp)

He’s another science officer aboard Discovery, an astromycologist (translation: this dude knows a lot about space fungus). A far more exciting fact about Lt. Stamets is that he’s Star Trek’s first openly gay character (on TV at least; in the movies, Sulu has a male partner). As it happens, Discovery also has Star Trek’s second openly gay TV character as well, in the form of Lt. Stamets’ partner: ship’s doctor Dr. Hugh Culber (played by Wilson Cruz).

Cadet Sylvia Tilly (Mary Wiseman)

She is an eager young Starfleet cadet assigned to Discovery, specializing in engineering and reporting to Lt. Stamets. After she becomes Burnham’s roommate, they form what Wiseman describes as “an unlikely friendship.”

Harry Mudd (Rainn Wilson)

This character—full name: Harcourt Fenton Mudd—is a con man, smuggler, and delightful sleaze who first appeared on The Original Series and has since become a cult favorite, largely thanks to Roger C. Carmel’s over-the-top performance. You can get a quick glimpse of Wilson’s take on Mudd as a younger man (“Are you mad?” “I’m MUDD!”) in the second Discovery trailer.

T’Kuvma (Chris Obi)

He’s a Klingon leader seeking to unite the 24 great Klingon houses—no easy task, especially since (as the second trailer reminds us) “the Klingon Empire has been in disarray for generations.” Klingons are the primary antagonists on Discovery, but the show will portray them as honorable warriors with—as you can see on T’Kuvma here—some really fantastic battle ensembles, not to mention new ships, at least one highly elaborate coffin, subtitles (when they’re speaking Klingon), and a biological reason for those distinctive forehead ridges.

Story and conflict

As mentioned above, Discovery will find the Federation at war with the Klingons. The show will run 15 episodes and we know a teeny bit about the first four installments. Episode one is titled “The Vulcan Hello,” and the description is nearly exactly what the two trailers have already revealed:

While patrolling Federation space, the USS Shenzhou encounters an object of unknown origin, putting First Officer Michael Burnham to her greatest test yet.

Subsequent known episode titles include “Battle at the Binary Stars,” “Context Is for Kings,” and “The Butcher’s Knife Cares Not for the Lamb’s Cry,” though we don’t have plot descriptions for those yet. Based on hints from showrunners Aaron Harberts and Gretchen Berg, however, the season will also focus on how the characters work through their differences together. Based on what the showrunners have said, he war with the Klingons will be in some way a comment on current political events, much like The Original Series reflected then-contemporary Cold War tensions. And Burnham will have to cope with whatever happened on the Shenzou, growing into the kind of leader that Sarek encourages her to be. She may also find herself caught between Vulcan and human cultures, much like her adoptive brother Spock was.

And the rest

The Discovery is a science vessel, which sets it apart from the Enterprise, which, as the flagship, was tasked with all sorts of things; with Voyager, which was designed specifically for long-term exploration; and Deep Space Nine, which was a space station. (And also very different from the Defiant, Deep Space Nine’s ship, which was designed to fight.) According to Memory Alpha, science vessels aren’t meant to be out in space for long periods of time, so maybe Discovery will be docked more often than in the other shows.

The design of the Discovery itself can be described, in the words of io9's Katharine Trendacosta, as being “sort of like Ralph McQuarrie’s original concept art for a new Enterprise and the original show’s ship had a baby. A baby about to go where no one has gone before.”

Composer Jeff Russo’s Discovery theme song calls back to Alexander Courage’s iconic original, while also doing its own melodious thing.

There will be a Mirror Universe episode.

After some initial misinterpretation, it’s actually totally fine to say “God” (as in “For God’s sakes!”) on the show.

There will be Tribbles.

Star Trek: Discovery premieres September 24 on CBS and CBS All Access. The rest of the series runs through November on CBS All Access, before taking a hiatus until January 2018. Each episode will be followed by Talking Trek, a live aftershow available on CBS All Access.

#IFTTT #Feedly

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