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unknownfacelessfanfictions · 7 months

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Hi! I saw that your requests were open, so I was wondering when if you can do where the team meets Fem! Y/n who is mute and is La’an’s twin sister?

Two Parts of a Whole

Pairing: (familial) La'an Noonien-Singh x fem!mute!reader; Crew x fem!mute!reader Fandom: Star Trek Strange New World Words: 4.5K Warnings: Mentions of La'an's Gorn trauma, Spoilers towards season 1 A/N: Thank you so much for requesting!! I hope it's satisfactory because this is the first time I wrote something like that. To be honest, I'm not entirely satisfied with it, but it won't get better. And I'm sorry that it took so long

The promenade of the space station she was currently on was packed and she was grateful that she had been able to get an empty spot on one of the pillars near the airlock. Not only several freighters had arrived almost simultaneously, but also two Vulcan research ships and an Andorian battle cruiser of the Imperial Guard. She had only noticed them in passing, however, as her focus was on the huge Federation starship. The USS Enterprise, NCC - 1701, Constitution Class and the flagship of the fleet. She, however, only cared about, one person on this huge ship.

Searchingly, she bobbed up and down, heel to toe and back again, hands clasped behind her back. Apparently she seemed to be so conspicuous that people were worried, because she was approached by an Andorian woman, quite brusquely, asking if she needed help, but she had quickly waved her aside. She was doing fine, even better than that, after all, she would be able to see her sister for the first time in months.

Perhaps it was a little paranoid of her to worry after such a short time, but the meeting with the Gorn had also left its mark on her. Unlike the rest of her family, she had not been on the SS Puget Sound because she had contracted Bolian smallpox, which was highly contagious, on the space station where they had stopped. Accordingly, she and her aunt, who was also ill, had been left on the station, with the expectation of returning to collect them after two weeks. At that time, no one could have guessed that it wouldn't come like that.

Her world had collapsed that day and, believing she had lost her entire family, she had spent days crying and refusing to eat or drink. And she probably would have gone on with it, had it not been for her aunt, who had begged her that her family had not wanted it that way and that she should not leave her alone. So she had carried on with her life as best she could, but it had seemed hollow and empty to her. Her siblings, but especially her twin, had been her motivation, her joy of life. A life without them had become unimaginable for her.

But just when she had convinced herself that it might, just maybe, be possible to survive without her family, the news arrived. La'an had survived. Her sister was alive. At first she hadn't wanted to believe it, the fear of raising her hopes unnecessarily was too great. Even when they were standing at the airlock, she had vehemently refused to even consider the possibility that she might still be alive. It was only when La'an had thrown herself around her neck, crying, and she had realised that, yes, La'an was alive, that she had been unable to hold on any longer and had cried just as unrestrainedly as La'an.

For the next few months, the twins were inseparable. Neither could last more than a few minutes in a room without the other, and their aunt had caught them both lying close together in bed at night to feel each other's body heat. Over the years, the situation had improved, but she still felt an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach when they were apart for long periods of time. She had been all the happier when she had learned that their paths would cross on this space station.

She herself was only nearby because she had been assigned by Starfleet to look more closely into the culture of Jitrav IV, with which it had only recently made contact. Strictly speaking, she was not a member of Starfleet in the sense of travelling the galaxy, but more in the sense of gathering information and reporting it back. In the past, she might have enjoyed flying through the quadrant in starships and getting to know new civilisations, but after the disaster with the Gorn, she had developed a real phobia about starships.

So she had devoted herself to exploring alien cultures from the safe distance of her home on Earth, but her work had been so distinguished that Starfleet had taken notice and wanted to hire her on one of their ships. She had decided against it, but in the end had gotten a relatively good deal out of it: Although she had to travel by starship from time to time, she would spend longer periods on other planets to learn about their cultures and languages. She documented her research thoroughly and sent it to Starfleet, whereas they paid for all her expenses as long as they remained within reason.

But this fear had not stopped her from getting into the first shuttle to this space station when La'an had told her that the Enterprise would dock there. She had been standing at her spot since early morning so as not to miss her sister. A few minutes ago, the first stream of Starfleet officers had poured onto the Promenade and she had to do her best to calm down. She knew La'an. She would not disembark until she was truly one hundred percent sure that there were no further duties. Knowing that her sister would need some more time, she began to observe the crowd of officers.

Frowning, she realised that most of them were human. She had expected this, but she had also been convinced that there had to be more non-humans on board. She noticed two Tellarites, a handful of Bolians and she thought she caught a glimpse of a Vulcan in a blue uniform out of the corner of her eye.

After twenty minutes of waiting, she saw an Aenar in a red uniform who was accompanied by a young woman in an equally red uniform who was talking intensely to him. Although he seemed grumpy and annoyed and gave the impression that he was not listening, she could see from his antennae directed at the young woman and the fact that she had spent two years on Andoria among Andorians and Aenar that he was listening more than attentively to her. Smiling, she shook her head and turned her attention back to the airlock. What a strange combination.

All in all, it took almost three quarters of an hour until she finally spotted her sister's dark braids, which were tightly braided back, but by then she could no longer be stopped. The promenade had emptied out a little in the meantime, so it wasn't particularly difficult for her to make her way to La'an, who fortunately noticed her in time. The latter fortunately noticed her in time to put her bag down before she crashed into the security officers. " Oof-" La'an groaned, but chuckled softly in response and after a short time of stiffness also put her arms around her to press her twin sister against her.

For a while they held each other tightly, even if it earned them some strange looks from bystanders. When she broke away from La'an, she noticed that she had blushed a little, but she didn't care. You are late, she signed. La'an nodded and smiled a little stiffly. "I know. However, I wanted to make sure everything was ready myself before I went to disembark." The young woman raised an eyebrow. Besides, you had to keep your reputation. La'an rolled her eyes. "Maybe a little."

La'an picked up her bags and followed her. They had agreed in advance to share quarters, so she just followed her to her quarters. Since it was difficult to converse while walking if one had to sign, they walked side by side in comfortable silence without another word to the other. It didn't bother her, as she knew that she and La'an would have plenty of time to talk. At the moment, it was simply important to her that her sister was with her again. Halfway to the lift, however, a voice stopped them. "Lieutenant Singh!"

They turned and she saw two women running towards them, whom she didn't know, her sister by all appearances did. One was slightly taller, had chin-length white-blonde hair and had apparently been the one who had called out to La'an. The other was smaller, had short dark hair and a cheeky grin on her lips. La'an just raised an eyebrow. "Yes?" "We were going out for a drink. Care to join us?" The taller one added with a quick glance at her" That goes for your...girlfriend too of course?" La'an narrowed her eyes. "She is my sister. And no thanks. I'm busy."

However, the two of them seemed not to have caught the last sentence, as the anthropologist and linguist was now the focus. "I didn't know you had a sister, Lieutenant." The blonde propped a hand on her hip as La'an took a deep breath. "Now you know." The shorter one held out her hand, which she hesitantly accepted. "My name is Erica Ortegas, Erica will do. And this is Christine." The blonde waved, but before she could do anything, La'an had placed a hand on her shoulder and hastily introduced her. "She is pleased to make your acquaintance, however we would like some time alone." Christine frowned. "Why don't you let her speak for herself?"

La'an's eyes only narrowed more, whereas she merely smiled in amusement and opened her mouth. Erica and Christine looked at her expectantly, only to look even more surprised when she began to sign instead. I'm mute and La'an translates for me, so it's all okay. She nodded her thanks to Christine. But thank you for your concern. After giving La'an a prompting look, she translated what her sister had said through clenched teeth, clearly annoyed at having been stopped by her colleagues.

Christine smiled but at the same time turned red in the face. "I'm sorry. Didn't mean it." She just tilted her head and nudged La'an. "That's all right. However, I would like to spend some time with my sister now." Erica and Christine, who was obviously still embarrassed by the whole thing, nodded and said a quick goodbye and she gave her sister a reproving look. You could have been a little nicer. La'an didn't respond any further.

Once in their quarters, La'an just barely took off her shoes and threw the bags on the floor before she fell backwards onto her bed and groaned. Her sister smiled slightly and snapped her hand to get her attention, whereupon she opened her eyes languidly. That bad? La'an sighed and sat up. "Well, I wouldn't know how to describe two run-ins with the Gorn any other way." She flinched and if she hadn't needed her hands to sign, she would have reached for La'an's. How? That was all she could bring herself to say, so much were her hands shaking. She knew how much the incident with the Gorn weighed on La'an, even more than on her, and the thought that her sister had had to face those monsters again did not make her feel at all comfortable.

La'an's voice broke several times before she was able to reply. "There were four Gorn ships. On Memorial Day. We barely got away, but we lost several crew members." She swallowed, but when she was asked if she wanted to stop, she replied in the negative. "The second time, we were on a planet, Valeo Beta V, responding to a distress call from a ship that had landed there. There weren't many of us, just a handful, and Enterprise had to move on and..." La'an broke off and her sister, who was now sitting next to her, squeezed her hand. In a shaky voice, La'an continued. "We found two survivors, however one was infected and before we knew it we were dealing with three hatchlings. Cadet Chia and Lieutenant Duke died. We almost lost our chief engineer as well."

But only almost? La'an laughed shakily. "It was more luck than good sense, really. We found out that the Gorn reproduce via their poison and Hemmer, our engineer, was hit. It didn't look good and without Doctor M'Benga on site...." She broke off. Gently her sister patted her back. He's all right though, isn't he? He's alive. "He was willing to sacrifice himself." La'an's voice was no more than a whisper and she had trouble understanding her. "I was the only one in the room with him, I could have stopped him, but I didn't do anything. I was too scared. If it hadn't been for the captain..." She tried to make calming noises to reassure La'an, however this seemed to have the opposite effect as she jumped up.

"No! You don't understand! I was ready to let a colleague, a friend, die because I was too scared! Because if I had thought even for a moment that he was from bloody Andoria, it might have occurred to me that he had a lower body temperature and consequently the process of hatching would be slowed! My fear almost killed Hemmer! How can I be head of security if my fear doesn't allow me to think clearly to protect the people who are under my protection?!"

She was shocked to see tears in La'an's eyes, which she resolutely wiped away. It's not your fault. She stood up and went over to her sister. Do you hear me? It is not your fault. He's alive, that's all that matters. "But I-" She clapped her hands loudly and interrupted La'an. No. It's not your fault, she repeated. Her gaze softened and she stroked La'an's shoulder. You have experienced traumatic things. No one blames you for being afraid. Most would have hidden in your place. Not you. No feelings of guilt. Please. La'an smiled bitterly before hugging her sister. "Thank you."

It took a while for the sisters to let go, but when they did, La'an seemed a lot more relaxed than before. At least, as relaxed as she could be. You have an Andorian as chief engineer? La'an frowned. "What makes you think that?" You said Andoria. "He's Aenar. They run even colder than Andorians. Don't ask me why though, I'm not a doctor."

I know. She grinned cheekily at her and they both had to think back to the incident in their childhood where La'an had tried to treat her wound with baking paper that did not absorb liquids. La'an smiled slightly. "I was six." So was I. Knew better anyway. She frowned briefly. Think I saw your chief engineer. "Oh yeah?"

She nodded. About that tall? She raised her hand. Red uniform. Grumpy? La'an smiled. "Sounds like Hemmer. Was he in company?" She nodded. Woman, small, short hair, black, red uniform. Talked a lot. La'an chuckled softly. "And that would be Uhura. She's a cadet, but one of the best linguists around. And she's somehow managed to befriend the grump of the ship." I didn't know you guys were friends. "Haha."

But he looked okay. Not hurt. A little grumpy, but healthy. "If that's your attempt to tell me it's all okay, stop. It's not making it better." She gave a silent sigh. Fine. But you need distraction. And relaxation. Her mind wandered back to the conversation from before. Fancy a drink?

~**~

It was like pulling teeth to convince La'an to go to the bar, but in the end she won and, followed by a somewhat grim-looking La'an, went down to the promenade, which by now, due to the hour, had filled up again. Which one do you want? Take your pick. La'an sighed and finally pointed to a larger establishment that formed the centre of the promenade. "If we're going to drink, let's do it properly." Her sister grinned and together they entered the room.

It was already well filled, yet she was still able to grab a small booth for them while La'an went to the bar to return with two colourful drinks. "Well then," La'an sighed as she slid into her seat and raised her glass. "To a wonderful evening." Her facial expressions were far too exaggerated, yet she didn't care. Cheers, she signed back, before picking up her glass herself and clinking her glass against her sister's.

The glasses clinked softly, the sound drowning in the noise around them, and in sync the sisters downed the drink. But while La'an remained expressionless, she screwed up her face and hastily put the glass down. What is this!!! La'an smiled to herself, which caused her sister's expression to darken further. "A little bit of everything." She screwed up her face. I'm going to have the hangover of my life. "Probably." Thank you for your compassion.

La'an grinned, however that smile faded as she looked past her sister. "Oh God." She turned, following La'an's gaze until her own gaze lingered on a group of people in Starfleet uniform. There were four people, three men and one woman, if she was so free to take that in. One of the men seemed to be "leading" the group. He wore a yellow and gold top, had silver and grey hair and a cheeky grin on his lips as he talked incessantly to the woman, also dressed in yellow. The latter had tied her dark hair into a high plait and did not look very impressed, but had a narrow smile on her lips. The other two were dressed in different shades of blue. One was slightly shorter, had a beard and was giving her dad vibes, whereas the other was clearly a Vulcan, his arms behind his back and one eyebrow raised sceptically.

The first man seemed to notice them because his face lit up and he waved at La'an before turning to the others, whereupon the group of four came towards them. La'an narrowed her eyes. "Just what I needed." Her sister gently slapped her arm and gave her a reproving look before the group was already beside them. "Hi." The man smiled broadly at her and briefly she wondered if this man had ever considered becoming a model for dental advertising, so white did his teeth appear. "Would it be okay if we joined you, La'an." The woman interposed. "Unless of course you'd like some time alone, which would be perfectly understandable." At that she gave the man a stern look, under which he shrank but his smile did not.

La'an glanced briefly at her sister before, in the face of the hopeful smile, she sighed in surrender and slid up a little to make room for the four. As everyone looked at her more or less expectantly, she took over the introductions. "This is my sister. She is currently working on Jitrav IV as a xeno-anthropologist. This is Captain Christopher Pike, Commander Una Chin-Riley, Lieutenant Spock and Doctor Joseph M'Benga. We serve together." She grinned at La'an. Oh really, I would never have guessed. La'an just rolled her eyes, however, she seemed to have caught the interest of the others.

The Vulcan, Spock, raised his eyebrow. "You use sign language." Mockingly, she raised her eyebrow in turn. Oh do I? I hadn't noticed. La'an snorted into her drink and tried to suppress a laugh. "What did she say?" Pike looked at her as if she was the most intriguing thing he'd ever seen, which flustered and confused her in equal measure. It wasn't that special now. La'an cleared her throat. "That she is pleased to make your acquaintance." Indignantly, she slapped La'an's arm. I didn't say that! "Subtext," La'an added, which earned her a snort.

She then turned her gaze to Spock. I am mute. Sign language is therefore my only way of communicating with others. It has been done that way for centuries. La'an translated for her without twisting the words in her mouth this time. Well, hands. M'Benga cleared his throat. "I thought there were treatments by now." She shook her head. No long-term ones. Besides, the risks are too great. After that, the four of them left it at that and they returned to a more relaxed conversation. At least they tried to, since most of the conversation was really just Pike and her, La'an's translations excluded, and the occasional comment from M'Benga. Una spoke up from time to time, as did La'an, but Spock was silent almost the entire time.

After half an hour, their drinks were empty and Pike offered to get more, which everyone agreed to, but he came back with two more people in tow, though she had already seen them. "Look who I ran into. Thought it would be nice to add to the fellowship," Pike grinned as he placed the drinks on the table, pointing to the Aenar and the young woman standing behind him. While the Aenar, Hemmer if she remembered correctly, looked just as grumpy as before, the young woman, Uhura, smiled all over her face and instantly locked eyes with her.

"Hi, you're Lieutenant Singh's sister, aren't you? The Captain had mentioned it." She held out her hand. "I'm Cadet Uhura, but please call me Nyota. This is Hemmer and don't worry," she leaned down a little towards her, "He's only half as grumpy as he looks." Hemmer scoffed. "I'm blind, not deaf, Uhura. I heard you." Nyota blushed but didn't apologise and on closer inspection, she could see that Hemmer didn't really look mad. She smiled at them both and quickly introduced herself. To her surprise, La'an didn't even bother to translate, as Nyota seemed able to do so herself.

"Oh, that's a beautiful name." You know sign language? Apparently one could see the surprise on her face, because Pike laughed softly. "Uhura is quite talented with languages, you might say." For the first time in half an hour, Spock spoke up. "Cadet Uhura speaks over thirty-seven languages, so by human parameters, she is more than 'quite talented'." Her jaw dropped? Thirty-seven? You're too good for this ship. That elicited a laugh from Uhura and after they had all scooted up, the other two had also squeezed onto the bench, Hemmer a little more reluctantly than Uhura, which was why she was now squeezed between La'an and Pike. There were worse things.

In time, they were joined by Erica and Christine, who had a young man named Sam Kirk in tow, which was the moment they decided to move the whole thing to a larger table. Now seated between M'Benga and Hemmer, facing La'an and Uhura, she noted with relief that her sister seemed to be starting to warm up. She knew that La'an would have preferred to be alone with her, but they would have plenty of time for that and at the moment she simply enjoyed being among so many people, which was not really common in her job, with the constant changing of places.

However, after almost another half hour of the crew telling their stories in Starfleet, including the amusing part of the Gorn disaster where Hemmer and Uhura were shot off the ship (Uhura confessed, admittedly a little drunk, that Hemmer had looked like a meerkat. The latter had protested, but his antennae and dark cheeks had betrayed him), they turned their attention to her and her profession. Patiently she answered, with La'an's help, until Uhura asked a question that made her think of something. "How do you manage to do your job with people who don't speak SSL (standard sign language)?"

For a moment she paused and frowned. What do you mean? La'an quietly translated for the rest and Uhura shifted back and forth in her seat. "Well, you meant that you were getting to know the native inhabitants of the planets to study their culture and the intricacies of their languages more closely, but how-" -can I do that without speaking myself? Uhura nodded and she smiled at her. One moment.

She rummaged in her trouser pocket and pulled out ten rings, each of which was connected to another, smaller ring with thin steel bands. She slipped them over her fingers so that the larger ring sat on her knuckle and the smaller one just below her fingernail. She then rolled up her sleeves to reveal two bracelets, one on each wrist, which she tapped on for some time until they beeped briefly and began to glow blue.

I don't need to speak. I have these. She signed, but a tinny female voice spoke for her. The people around her stared at her with wide eyes and of course Spock was the first to catch himself to ask a question. "Why didn't you use that before." It isn't complete. She regarded him with narrowed eyebrows as the voice continued to translate for her. It's missing the sensors for the face, arms and torso that I usually wear. Sign language is not just language of the hands. Is complex.

She looked down at her hands. It's not exact and I have to sign very slowly and clearly for the right thing to come out. Besides, it's slow. Takes longer than living translator. Not a problem with speeches, awkward with conversations. With that, however, she seemed to have caught Hemmer's attention. "Sure the whole thing couldn't be calibrated more sensitively?" She shrugged. Don't have a clue about such things. Starfleet takes care of that sort of thing. However, this is just a prototype, better is to come soon. Apparently she had signed too quickly and uncleanly this time, because the voice didn't spit out "Starfleet" but "Stargazer". Annoyed, she frowned and deactivated the bracelet.

"I think it's cool," Nyota declared, smiling broadly, which earned her a slight smile as well. Quite a bit.

After that, the conversation turned back to more mundane things and no one talked about the bracelets, even though she sensed that Hemmer was tempted to get his hands on them. He did not say so, but his antennae twitched conspicuously in her direction. After two hours, however, La'an and she decided to leave. This was accompanied by a series of disappointed noises, but they did not let themselves be brought down. After promising Uhura to polish up her SSL and Hemmer that he could look at her speaking aid tomorrow, she and La'an wished everyone a good night before they left the bar.

In the lift, they leaned against the wall and La'an heaved a sigh. "This is not how I had imagined my evening to be, if I'm honest." But it was still nice, wasn't it? La'an pursed her mouth. "Tolerable." She grinned at La'an. I can live with that. She pinched her sister's cheek to keep her attention. I like them, all of them. They're nice. La'an shook her head with a smile. "Especially Uhura though, right?" It's always nicer to talk to people who understand you without you. The lift doors opened and La'an pulled her behind her. "Come on. You owe me another game of cards and this time you won't be able to wriggle out of it."

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@bigblissandlove1 @akamitrani

#star trek #star trek strange new worlds #star trek snw #snw x reader #snw crew x reader #la'an noonien singh & reader #la'an noonien singh x reader #mute reader #la'an noonien singh #spock #christopher pike #hemmer snw #nyota uhura #christine chapel #erica ortegas #joseph m'benga #sam kirk #una chin riley

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emonydeborah · 7 months

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snw au

I have a very long google doc of various fic ideas that I will probably never write, but I would still like to release them from their prison. So here’s one.

Cadet Una Chin Riley, on her last training mission before graduation, is captured by the Gorn.

Her enhanced strength and endurance, and her own unaltered resilience, help her stay alive for months. She does her best to protect her crew, but it’s a losing battle.

about 6 months after Una, La’an and her colony ship are captured. Her parents are gone and she only has her brother.

(side note- ik his name is Manu but before I knew that I named him Dan’el and I like that better.)

Dan’el just wants to protect his sister. Una wants to protect anyone she can. They come across each other, and she teaches them how to survive.

Una’s delta is her last and most cherished possession. She gives it to La’an to give her courage.

La’an gets jettisoned off the planet and when Starfleet finds her she sends them to save the others.

La’an shows them the delta and Lt. Chris Pike badgers Commander April that they have to go. They can’t leave a member of starfleet behind.

Starfleer Command says no. April gets the captain to say yes. They catch the Gorn by surprise and are able to beam off all non-Gorn on the planet, including Una and Dan’el.

La’an tries to give the delta back. Una tells her to keep it.

with the testimonials of victims and scans from the planet, starfleet is forced to take action. Una and La’an testify before the council about the conditions on that one gorn breeding planet.

Starfleet’s investigation of the planet is enough to provoke the gorn to attack, and now we’re at war.

Una gets bumped up to Ensign and becomes the tactical authority on the gorn. She’s a hot commodity. Chris is part of her guard that shuttles her around and protects her.

I have much much more (it's a big google doc) but I will leave this here for now.

#una chin riley #chris pike #la’an noonien singh #snw #strange new worlds #snw au #gorn #strange new worlds au #feel free to ask me about it if anyone would like to

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cicaklah · 9 months

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so I don't want to stop thinking about star trek tonight so here are the things I want from s3 of SNW, which is also based on a list of classic star trek tropes I made

the La'an and M'Benga backstory, which means more Klingon war stories. 100,000,000 people died in less than a year JUST on the federation side! This should also include plenty of Ortegas.

sleep terrors episode, or just any scary episode. a TNG classic!

for some reason I really want an episode ripping off among us, I really just want everyone to be sus and battling to get the ship back online while there is an imposter among them. perhaps this can be combined with the sleep terrors episode.

horny episode. it is literally a classic!!! There was a little bit of it in the light virus episode, but I want a naked time/naked now/fascination/blood fever lowered inhibitions everyone wants to fuck episode, preferably with a new twist!

Una episode NOT about being Illyrian,

Ortegas episode NOT about flying the ship,

La'an episode where she has to deal with being wrong about the Gorn

Una returning to her Discovery/Short Treks characterisation a bit, the sassier, blunter version who drives pike mad by putting hot sauce on his perfectly balanced meals.

Shore leave episode (I know technically they did this but I would like another one).

day in the life episode, ala data's day, lower decks (tng episode), that bit at the start of 2x03 where la'an sarcastically vents about her job.

Rashomon episode where we see an event from multiple perspectives but played for laughs

O'Brien Must Suffer episode - time travelling old miles obrien comes to the enterprise and is mysteriously tortured to death and dies. I kid, but you know it COULD happen.

anyway I would like there to be more star trek please.

#star trek #snw #star trek snw #snw season 3

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andorshitdaily · 5 months

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Next up on Wandor Wednesday Wars......Mario Kart!!

What is up my good Wandor Wednesday Warriors? Today we are coming at you with something truly unhinged: Andor meets Mario Kart.

I have thrown 32 Andor characters into a hat. I have thrown 32 Mario Kart 8 Deluxe characters into a different hat (I have so many hats, y'all). I have pulled one of each out to pair them up for competition. The pairs will compete as a team throughout the bracket. It's really that simple.

For the 1v1 matchups, just picture the Andor characters sitting down with their Nintendo Switch controllers side by side and competing in a Versus battle. Whoever has the best finish in the race is the one to advance (they wouldn't necessarily have to win, just finish better).

And now what we've all been waiting for.....the pairing lineup:

Mario - Mon Mothma Luigi - Brasso Peach - Taramyn Barcona Daisy - Dedra Meero Rosalina - Linus Mosk Tanooki Mario - Lio Partagaz Cat Peach - Cassian Andor Yoshi - Wilmon Paak Toad - Time Grappler Koopa Troopa - Syril Karn Shy Guy - Cinta Kaz Lakitu - Timm Karlo Toadette - Perrin Fertha King Boo - Taga Baby Mario - B2EMO Baby Luigi - Leida Mothma Baby Peach - Ruescott Melshi Baby Daisy - Kino Loy Baby Rosalina - Saw Gerrera Metal Mario - Corv Pink Gold Peach - Lonni Jung Wario - Kleya Marki Waluigi - Karis Nemik Donkey Kong - Tay Kolma Bowser - Vel Sartha Dry Bones - Luthen Rael Bowser Jr. - Arvel Skeen Dry Bowser - Blevin Lemmy - Jezzi Larry - Gorn Wendy - Bix Caleen Ludwig - Eedy Karn

That list is already making this post really long so I won't list the Round one matchups but here is the bracket where you can see them for yourself (or just like, wait a bit and they'll be posted anyway):

What do you think? Who would you main? What track do you picture them racing on? Who's going all the way?

May the best racer win.

#andor #wandor wednesday wars #i really hope this one will be wild #seriously let's shake it up

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chiefnooniensingh · 10 months

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I want to exorcise the demons from your past

Summary: The Gorn invade Enterprise, and La'an rushes to meet it. Kirk has one thing to do before she does.

A/N: I've been obsessed with this pairing ever since 2x03 so now I'm writing fic because of course I am. I always love the "one of us is about to head into danger so let's kiss"-first kiss trope, so here we are. Also, who can spot the quoted from another fandom? ;) Enjoy!

Rating: T

AO3

“Red alert. All hands, battle stations.”

The alarm blared just as La’an entered the Transporter Room to receive Enterprise’s guests. Immediately, her communicator chirped with a connection from Captain Pike. “Lieutenant Noonien-Singh, are our guests on board?”

La’an locked eyes with Chief Kyle, who immediately threw the switch to energize. “They’re coming aboard now, Captain.” Two figures materialized in in the transporter, and just as the materialization process was complete, the entire ship lurched sideways as it was hit, hard and violent. La’an grabbed hold of the nearest handle to keep steady, but their guests had no such luck and immediately fell over. “Jam- Lieutenants Kirk and Kirk, welcome back!” she shouted over the alarm, as figures in yellow and blue tried to disentangle themselves from each other.

“Reporting for duty, sir!” Sam shouted back, righting himself and pulling his younger brother to his feet. They already looked distinctly dishevelled, with Sam rubbing the shoulder that had caught his fall. James looked little worse for wear, running his hands through his hair.

La’an nodded at Sam, and try as she might, she couldn’t stop her eyes from being pulled to the younger Kirk, who was, inexplicably, smiling. “Is there something funny, Lieutenant?” La’an said, unable to help herself. This was going to be a problem; they were in the middle of a crisis (apparently) and her feelings were overwhelming her.

James shook his head, still smiling. “Just…never a dull moment with you, Lt. Noonien-Singh!” La’an rolled her eyes, feeling her face heat up, noting from the corner of her eye the bewildered look Sam was throwing them. The ship lurched again, and they all grabbed the Transporter Console to stay upright. “What’s going on?!”

La’an shook her head. “I don’t know, it came out of nowhere! Lt. Kirk, to your battle station!” she yelled at Sam, who immediately nodded and left. “We can’t send you back to the Farragut as long as our shields are raised, Lieutenant!”

James nodded, taking a step towards her, but before he could say anything, another boom echoed through the ship and the entire room seemed to lurch. He stumbled forward, nearly overbalancing, and then grabbing hold of her to steady himself. “What can I do to help?” He looked at her with an open expression, and La’an had trouble focussing for a second, because his hands were still on her shoulders.

La’an shook her head a little to clear it, feeling her survivor exterior snap into place. Emotions were of no use to her right now. “I don’t know what’s going on yet. Just…follow me!” Then she tore out of the room, not giving him time to respond. The ship was already quite a mess, with several crewmembers down – dead or unconscious, she did not know, but she saw Nurse Chapel already working swiftly to help. Kirk slowed down to help, but La’an said tersely, “We can’t help them, Lieutenant, medical personnel is already doing triage! We need to get to the Bridge!” She saw a pained expression flit over his face, and she remembered the conversation they had the last time he’d been on the Enterprise. The type who can’t walk past a stranger in need. “James, I promise they’ll get the help they need!” Hearing his name seemed to snap him out of it, and he nodded, continuing to match her pace. “Bridge!” she yelled at the computer as soon as they’d lurched into the Turbolift. James was breathing heavily, looking focussed as the Turbolift raced towards the Bridge.

The doors opened to chaos. Several conduits seemed to have sprung and had flooded half the Bridge with gasses, Una was in the pilot’s seat as Erica had moved to operate firing control, and Captain Pike was helping Uhura to her feet, who was bleeding profusely from a head wound. But what caught her attention more than anything else in the room, was the view screen. Hurtling through space, firing an endless stream of plasma torpedoes at them, was a Gorn hunter ship. For a moment, everything around her went very, very quiet, her breathing stopped, and her brother appeared beside her. He looked at her with a smile on his face, but blood was pouring down the side of his face. “La’an?” he said, his smile widening. “La’an!” Then she noticed the voice was not coming from him at all, but from James, who had grabbed hold of her shoulders and was shaking her. Her eyes focussed on him; his brows furrowed as he held her tight. “Are you alright?” All noise slammed back at once, and she sucked in a deep breath. James was looking at her with a look of distinct worry on his face, but she gave him a curt nod and then took a step away from him.

“Gorn ship is firing another volley! La’an, take firing control!” Erica shouted, who was a decent shot but a better pilot. La’an took her spot at phaser control and immediately started mapping out complex firing patterns.

“Lt. Kirk, welcome aboard!” Pike said, having helped Uhura to stop the bleeding. “Sorry we couldn’t give you a warmer welcome, we weren’t expecting our other guests here to show up! Would you mind helping out around here while we deal with these bastards that are shooting at my ship?”

James, who smiled despite himself, nodded, and immediately went to work on one of the damaged conduits. The battle was brutal, and they were, once again, outclassed. “Captain, we need to find cover!” La’an said, her jaw tense as she shot another volley of plasma torpedoes out of space. Immediately after, she threw a couple of photon torpedoes at the hunter ship, which it dodged deftly.

“Working on that, Lt. Noonien-Singh,” Spock said, infuriatingly calm as always. “Sir, I have a Class J planet on our sensors that seems to emit some kind of dampening field. If we hide in the upper atmosphere…”

“The Gorn shouldn’t be able to detect us,” Pike finished, nodding. “Erica, set a course.”

“Aye, sir.”

As they were coming about, La’an spotted a plasma torpedo heading straight for them, and try as she might, she couldn’t shoot it out of space. “Shit…brace for impact!” she yelled, and then held on tight to her station.

For a second it felt like the whole ship exploded around them. Even more alarms started blaring, sparks flew, and so did people. La’an barely managed to hang on to her console, as the ship shook and lurched with the force of the impact. When the worst of it died down, the ship was still there, sort of. “Damage report!” Pike shouted.

“Shields at 43%, Captain!” Spock said loudly, retaking his place and wiping blood out of his eye. “Phasers are not operational.”

La’an cursed, tapping wildly at her screen to find a way to reset them. “I need those phasers online if we want to get out of this alive, Captain!”

“I can fix it,” Kirk said, suddenly by her side and looking intently at her. He was barely visible through the gases still billowing through the bridge, but he looked alert and seemed generally unhurt, so she knew he wasn’t just saying that. “La’an, I can fix that, but we need to go now.”

La’an didn’t hesitate. Standing up so quickly that Kirk took a startled step back, she paced over to Captain Pike’s side, who was now hauling a dazed ensign off the floor. “Sir, permission to bring Lt. Kirk with me to the phaser banks. We can fix them.” Behind her, Erica had taken La’an’s spot again and Una, who looked distinctly ruffled, had retaken her position at the helm.

“Granted. Do it quickly!” Pike said, barely glancing at her and Kirk as he checked the ensign for signs of concussion.

“Aye, sir,” La’an and Kirk both shouted, as they ran towards the Turbolift. La’an ordered it down to the phaser banks.

Kirk shot her a worried look. “You alright?”

La’an frowned, annoyed. She had no time to focus on feelings when the situation was this extreme, because if she did, she would completely useless. “Of course. I’m fine.”

Sighing, Kirk turned and looked at her until she got the message and turned to look at him as well. “You didn’t seem fine back there. You seemed panicked.” He was standing in his best First Officer stance, his hands on his hips and a stern expression on his face.

Goddamn it, why was this man so good at reading her? The strange connection that had been buzzing between them ever since she’d first called him flared up again, like it had in the corridor all those months ago, like it does every time they swap stories about their perspective jobs. La’an sighed. “Look, everybody I loved died on a Gorn breeding planet when I was young. Seeing that Gorn ship brought back…unpleasant memories.”

Kirk’s face blanched, and his face was full of sympathy, something she distinctly did not need right now. He lowered his hands and had the good sense to look sheepish. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t – ”

“Of course, you didn’t,” La’an said flatly, but before he could do anything else ridiculous like try to put a hand on her shoulder, the Turbolift doors, mercifully, opened and La’an could escape this conversation. “Alright, lieutenant, let’s fix the phaser banks so we can all die another day.”

They set to work, first clearing out the rubble from the phaser tubes, the latter of which were thankfully still intact. Then La’an watched as Kirk crawled behind a bulkhead to find the reset switch. “La’an, can you check the status back there?” he asked, his voice muffled from behind the wall. La’an ran a system’s check, but still got a few reds.

“Not working yet!”

“Damn it, I see the problem, I’ve got a severed powerline. I need to reroute. Hang on.”

Several anxious moments later, some more lights started flashing green. “Got it! There are a few things not working, but…” She was cut off by another shock going through the ship, this one quite different. James appeared from behind the bulkhead, hair dishevelled and a few burn marks on his uniform, looking alarmed. “That wasn’t a plasma torpedo,” La’an said softly.

Kirk shook his head. “That was docking.”

La’an’s blood ran cold. “They’re trying to get in. We need to stop – ” At that exact moment, a different alarm blared. “Intruder alert. Intruder on deck 4.” La’an closed her eyes, fear running through her veins. “They’re inside…” She immediately grabbed her communicator. “Captain, they’re inside, I’m heading to deck 4 to head them off.”

“Acknowledged, sending Spock and any and all security personnel to you. Pike out.”

Kirk made his way over to her side, looking determined. “I’ll go, too.”

La’an shook her head, glad to have a great excuse for sending him as far away from deck 4 as possible. “You’re of much more help on the Bridge, we need a good shot up there and no offence to Erica, but you’re better. I’ve seen your file.”

James smirked at the compliment, causing La’an to roll her eyes. The man never passed up on opportunity to flirt. But then his face turned serious again. “La’an, please…”

“James, I’m Head of Security on Starfleet’s flagship, I think I can handle myself. I’ve done it before,” she said, curtly, proud of how steady her voice sounded when, in actuality, she was freaking out inside. Knowing that Spock was on his way with his logical mind and more-than-average strength was a relief.

James raised his hands in surrender. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

La’an opened her mouth to say something, couldn’t find any fitting words – how could she ever explain the depth of her feelings for him without breaking the temporal general directive? – and closed it again. Instead, she nodded, before heading out, towards deck 4. When she was almost at the Turbolift, she suddenly felt a hand close around her wrist. For a split second, her instincts nearly vaulted him over her shoulders, but Kirk was fast. He spun her around to face him, and she got a glimpse of his determined face before he kissed her.

Oh.

It was embarrassing how easy it was for La’an to completely forget the crisis they were in right now. James was kissing her, after months and months of wondering, longing, and trying to separate that James from this James in her head. He was kissing her, and it felt just as right as it had done with the other Kirk. His arms slipped around her waist, pulling her closer, and she sunk into it for a moment, giving as good as he did, but the alarms were insistent and loud. They broke apart, panting slightly. “What was – ” she began, as his forehead rested against hers briefly.

“For luck,” James said quietly, his eyes closed as if he was steeling himself for what was coming. Then he took a step back. “Be careful, La’an.” Please, his eyes seemed to say.

Mouth slightly agape in shock, La’an nodded, watching him turn away from her and jog in the other direction. It took a second or two for her mind to reboot, but then she said, “You, too!” to his retreating back. He turned around before turning the corner and smiled, as if to say of course, you know me. Which was worrisome, because she did know him, and he generally didn’t give a rat’s ass about his own safety.

Although she was about to run headfirst into a (pack of?) Gorn, so she didn’t really have grounds to talk. The Turbolift arrived and in the several seconds it took for the lift to go up to deck 4, La’an had time to panic, put herself back together and steel herself for what was to come. As the Turbolift opened, La’an immediately went to her knees and ripped open a panel behind which phasers were stored. Taking two, she stashed one in her uniform and held the other out in front of her, setting it to maximum. Then she opened her communicator. “La’an to all security personal and Mr. Spock, what is your status?”

“I have just arrived at deck 4, Lieutenant Noonien-Singh, and making my way to you now. No sight of the Gorn.”

“Do we know if it’s one Gorn or more?”

“Sensors detected a slight life sign as we were boarded but have not picked up any life signs since then. It is impossible to know how many there are.”

“Pray it’s only one.”

“Indeed.”

It was dead silent on the deck, as Captain Pike had obviously had enough of the alarms and had shut it all off. A sense of wrongness overcame her, as if she was being watched. La’an kept moving, knowing that she had to meet her people. Safety in numbers, even with the Gorn. It didn’t take long before she heard movement up ahead. She raised her phaser, moving slowly towards the sounds. If it was a Gorn she would shoot until the phaser was empty, that much she was sure about. Her heart was beating in her throat. “Lieutenant?” said a voice suddenly, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Spock!” she whisper-yelled, embarrassed at how easy it was to rattle her. “I thought you were a Gorn, I’d nearly emptied my phaser on you.”

Spock emerged from the shadows, a single eyebrow raised. “Then I am grateful for your level of self-control. I was on my way to the science lab. I have been thinking about the last Gorn we encountered, and how we defeated them.”

La’an nodded, immediately catching on. “Cold. Liquid nitrogen.”

Spock nodded. “Indeed. If I am not mistaken there are several cannisters of liquid nitrogen to choose from.”

La’an shook her head as they advanced, wondering where her security team was. “One of these days we’re going to have a talk about hazardous materials.”

Spock raised another perfect eyebrow. “As you wish, lieutenant. Though I feel the need to point out that warp plasma is infinitely more destructive, as it…”

La’an held up her hand. “Spare me the workings of my ship. It’s helpful that you’ve got it now.” They crept into the science lab, which was thankfully abandoned for now. They worked fast, assembling a sort of liquid nitrogen bomb to throw at the Gorn when they encountered them. As she worked, she replayed the kiss with James over in her mind. It was distracting and more than once she nearly spilled some liquid nitrogen on herself. If Spock noticed, he didn’t care to comment, which she appreciated. When they were almost done, La’an flipped open her communicator. “La’an to any and all security personnel on deck 4, where are you?”

“This is Ensign Scott, we’re trapped near the Turbolift, lieutenant, there’s one Gorn outside trying to break down the door. We’ve lost D’Jal.” La’an looked up sharply, locking eyes with Spock, who looked faintly troubled by raising a single eyebrow.

“Hang tight, Ensign, Spock and I are on our way. Try to stay as far away from the door as possible!”

“Aye, lieutenant.”

“It’s finished, lieutenant. It should at least incapacitate the Gorn enough for us to…destroy it.”

La’an remembered smashing the last one, too. She usually didn’t really enjoy violence, but that had felt good. The same fire was suddenly burning in Spock’s eyes, and she remembered how he’d lowered his inhibitions to make himself stronger against the Gorn. It seemed he was doing the same thing now. “Let’s go.”

With Spock holding the bomb, La’an took up her second phaser and used it to cover as much of their surroundings as possible, as they moved in the opposite direction to the other Turbolift. At first it was absolutely silent, and then the lights when out. “Shit,” La’an muttered, quickly turning on her flashlights. “The Gorn found a light switch.”

“I think it’s highly unlikely that…”

Was Spock being particularly Vulcan-y today, or was he always this obtuse? La’an stopped to shoot him one of her famous death stares. “Yes, obviously I meant it destroyed some conduits, Spock, it was a figure of speech.”

“Right,” Spock said, looking politely contrite. “My apologies.”

La’an turned her back on him and crept forward, slower, and more deliberate than before. Gorn could now be on literally every corner, and one false move would mean bad, possibly fatal, news. The quiet was all-encompassing, exacerbated by the darkness, and the feeling of being watched crept over La’an again.

It was an old feeling, familiar from her time on the Gorn breeding planet, and a feeling that she always tried very hard to stay away from. It usually preluded a panic attack of varying degrees of severity. She did not have time in her life for panic attacks. “Lieutenant Noonien-Singh, you have not taken a breath in at least a minute, are you alright?”

La’an took a sharp breath, the pounding in her ears suddenly proof of her lack of oxygen. “Yes. Yes, I’m – ” She shook her head, wondering how she just forgot to breathe. “No, actually, I’m not alright.”

She felt more than saw Spock nod behind her. “The Gorn are a violent species, and you’ve had more run-ins with them than most. Perhaps some comfort can be gleaned from the fact that you have survived them three separate times now.”

La’an scoffed, shaking her head to clear it. “It’s called luck. And it is going to run out.”

“Perhaps. I, myself, have never believed in luck. I must – ” But La’an cut him off with a quick hand motion and a hiss. Nearby, she could hear clicking and pounding. The Gorn, trying to get to her security team. Not today, monster. She motioned for Spock to get on the other side of the corridor with the bomb, so the Gorn would have nowhere to go, and in that formation, they approached the noise, which got more violent and louder with every step they took.

And then she saw it. A recently hatched, but already quite large Gorn was scratching and pounding at a door, which was slowly losing integrity against the onslaught of a hungry Gorn. Her breath stilled again, her heart pounding in her ears, and for a moment she froze. A soft gasp escaped her throat before she could stop herself, and the Gorn snapped its gaze towards them. “Now!” she screamed at Spock, as she locked eyes with the hungry, dead eyes she’d seen most often in her nightmares. The Gorn leapt towards them just as Spock threw the liquid nitrogen bomb at it.

The bomb exploded in mid-air, straight in the Gorn’s face, and it screeched in pain as the immediate cold washed in waves over its body and through the corridor. La’an leapt back, because though the cold should’ve frozen it solid immediately, the Gorn was still moving, and fast.

“Lieutenant, be careful – ” Spock’s shout pierced the air at the same time La’an felt something long and sharp slash across her chest. “Lieutenant!” The pain was immediate and overwhelming, and La’an fell to the floor. Someone was screaming, she registered dimly, and it took her a moment to realize it was her. The Gorn, she realized. It was still behind her. The pain was blinding her, her vision narrowing, time slowing down, but she had to get away, had to make sure the Gorn wouldn’t infect her. Letting out another scream when she moved, the pain excruciating, she turned around, only to find the Gorn right in front of her, frozen solid, its claw outstretched, parts of her uniform hanging from the talons.

“Die – you monster,” she managed to spit out, before everything went black.

The first thing La’an was aware of was that she was lying on a soft bed. The second thing she was aware of was…oh, she wasn’t dead. That was nice. Being alive was nice. She was warm and comfortable.

“Mr. Kirk, I assure you she is going to be all right. You do not need to stand vigil here.”

“I’m fine, Dr. M’Benga.”

That didn’t make sense. How was James here, on the Enterprise, when he was stationed on the Farragut? No, that wasn’t right. He’d come over to the Enterprise to drop his brother off after his shore-leave. And something had happened… Her brain was foggy, the sedative dr. M’Benga had given her obviously doing its work, but she was forgetting something, something important.

The Gorn.

Gasping wildly, La’an opened her eyes and sat up straight, her eyes wide. “Where is it?!” she shouted, barely aware of the pain that pierced through her sedative and shot through her body.

“La’an, it’s okay!” James was there, right next to her, his palms facing towards her to show his calm. “It’s okay, you’re safe. You’re all right.” He took a step closer, putting his hands on her shoulders, which were heaving.

“James?” she asked, her voice high pitched. Her brain was addled with drugs and panic, so she was slow on the uptake.

He nodded, smiling gently. “It’s me, La’an, it’s all right. Trust me.” His voice was soft, calm, and if the Gorn was still at large, why would he be so calm?

“It’s dead?” she said, her voice shaking as the panic slowly subsided. James nodded, raising a hand to her face, and stroking her hair back. “We killed it?”

James nodded again, leaning forward to put his forehead against hers. “Yeah, you did. It nearly took you with it.” La’an closed her eyes, the last of her panic subsiding in his calming presence. She remembered now. The liquid nitrogen bomb, the gashes, the pain. “It’s all right, La’an. You have to lay back down now, you’re still healing.” La’an looked down. She was dressed in her standard issue tank top and shorts, and she could see the gashes the Gorn had made across her chest. Dr M’Benga had done a good job on them, she thought, as she remembered in a flash how deep the cuts had been. “Please, La’an, or Dr M’Benga will have my head, I told him I wouldn’t let you overexert yourself.”

“La’an, you’re awake!” Christine entered Sickbay and immediately rushed over. “You let her get up?” she said, glaring at James, who let go of La’an reluctantly and stepped back.

“Let her? Have you met the lieutenant before, Nurse Chapel?” He locked eyes with La’an and winked at her, and La’an, inexplicably, laughed.

Christine rolled her eyes with a smile, and gently guided La’an back down. Then she set to work on examining her wounds, while James hovered nearby, leaning against the next biobed with one arm and his other hand firmly planted on his hip. La’an almost had to laugh, the man had a way with ridiculous stances in every timeline. “You’ll be all right, lieutenant. The cuts were very deep, and it was a bit touch and go for a while, but we managed to stem the bleeding and repair most of the damage. The rest must heal on its own. We can use a dermal regenerator for the scars when…”

“No,” La’an said curtly, causing both Christine and James to look at her in surprise. “No dermal regenerators. I need to remember this.”

Christine looked like she wanted to argue, but then thought better off it. “Alright. Well, there’s nothing more you can do but rest. I’ll give you another small sedative and leave you in the capable hands of your guard here.” She shot an amused look in James’s direction before administering another hypospray to La’an and heading off to M’Benga’s office. La’an was in too much pain to really object to the sedation, so instead she turned to look at James, who pushed off from the biobed to stand next to hers. He looked down at her with the softest expression she’d ever seen on his smug face. “My guard?” she asked, bemused.

He laughed sheepishly, scratching behind his ear with a blush on his face. She’d never seen him this shy before. “I – I may have been here nearly non-stop for two days?”

La’an’s eyes widened. He’d done what? “Why? Wait, two days?” There were too many questions swirling in her brain at once, and she suddenly felt very dizzy. “Ow,” she muttered, grabbing her head.

He was kneeling beside her in a flash, his hands stroking her arm gently, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “What can I do?”

La’an laughed despite the pain, and she turned her head to look at him. She lifted a single hand to rest on his cheek, a gesture of affection she would not usually deal out so easily, but her inhibitions were lowered, and this man had been at her bedside for two whole days. “You’re already doing it, James. Thank you.” She closed her eyes and let the feel of his soft hands running up and down her arm lull her into a superficial slumber. She was warm, and she felt safe, and it was probably the sedatives starting to work, but it felt nice. It wasn’t often that felt safe.

When she next woke up, James was asleep on a chair beside her, his head resting on her biobed, one hand resting in hers, and it was dark in Sickbay. She smiled. She wasn’t sure how long she’d slept, but somehow, she was very sure that he hadn’t moved much except to get a chair. “James,” she said, rolling on her side to face him properly, and squeezing his hand. “James, wake up.”

He woke slowly, and blinked into the semi-darkness as he looked up. “La’an,” his voice was rough with sleep. “How are you feeling?” He lifted a hand to her face, letting his thumb trace the side of her face gently.

La’an closed her eyes to enjoy the sensation. “’m fine.” They gazed at each other for a while, and as they did so, at least twenty different questions popped into her head. “James, why did you…kiss me?”

James averted his gaze with a smile, before looking back up and letting his thumb trace lower, across her bottom lip. “I admit, it was slightly dramatic in the heat of the moment, but…I’ve been wanting to for quite some time, ever since you called me James even though we had barely spoken more than 5 minutes. And then we got that drink, and I got to know you, and I just…I really like you, La’an Noonien-Singh. So when it was a crisis situation and you were about to run headfirst into danger, I thought…now or never.”

“Mmm. Quite presumptuous of you, Lt. Kirk,” she said, her voice teasing and a smile on her face. She moved a bit closer to him, and he slid his hand in her neck, their noses now almost touching.

James shot her a charming half-smile, his eyes flicking down to her lips a few times. “I don’t seem to remember you complaining much, Lt. Noonien-Singh.”

La’an raised one shoulder, suppressing a wince as her scars pulled painfully. “Well, I was caught by surprise.”

“Hmm, that’s not very chivalrous of me,” James whispered, his lips ghosting over hers.

La’an shook her head. “No, not very,” she murmured, and then she closed the distance. It was wonderful, to be able to kiss him freely, after having wanted to for months, having to sort out which of her feelings were real and which of her feelings were left over from the deleted timeline, and finally being unable to figure out how to even go about forming a connection with him. She let her hand wander into his hair, finding it soft and a little smushed together from sleeping against the biobed. His hand snuck into her hair as well, which was hanging loose, free of her usual braids, and she wondered if her hair was just as messy as his. Then she found herself not caring at all, because his mouth was soft against hers, and he was moving closer, moving to put his hand on the bed behind her, causing her to roll onto her back. He was standing now, one hand on the back of her head, protecting her from hitting anything, the other bracketing her, and she felt once again protected and safe.

They were lost in the kiss, were ignoring her injuries, and ignoring the trauma she’d just been through, but it couldn’t last long. A throat cleared behind from somewhere behind James, and they broke apart, gasping. Dr M’Benga stood there, looking equal parts disapproving and amused. “I’m afraid none of this comes under the heading of ‘resting’, Lt. Noonien-Singh.”

La’an felt her cheeks burning, as she lifted her hand to touch her lips, which were tingling. “I’m sorry, Dr M’Benga, we were…”

James was standing next to her biobed, looking both guilty and exceedingly pleased with himself. “This is my fault, Dr M’Benga, my apologies.”

M’Benga looked at him, his gaze stern. “You are free to remain here, Lt. Kirk, but I’ll thank you to let my patient rest.”

James nodded solemnly. “Yes, doctor.”

“Good night, lieutenants.”

“Good night,” they both said sheepishly, as M’Benga left Sickbay. James let out a slightly embarrassed chuckle. “I’m sorry,” he said, sitting back down on the chair, close enough to hold her hand but too far to continue their very pleasurable exploits. Now that the rush of adrenaline was fading again, La’an could feel her wounds throbbing with pain. “You okay?”

La’an shook her head as she pressed her hand to her chest, expecting to come away with blood, but finding nothing. It hurt like it was bleeding. “I was…a little overenthusiastic.” She opened her eyes to him staring down at her with a soft smile. “What?”

“Nothing,” James said, shaking his head as if to clear it. He leaned forward and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, so gentle that it ached. “Get some sleep, La’an.”

La’an grabbed his hand before he could pull it back and held it against her cheek for a moment. “Promise me you will, too?”

“I can sleep here.”

She squeezed his hand to shut him up, then looked up at him with her best Chief of Security-glare. “James, you’ve been here for over two days now. You need a bed. I’ll still be here in the morning, because I don’t think these wounds will heal as fast as I want them to.” Then she kissed his palm, noting with some satisfaction that his breath caught. “Thank you for not leaving me these past few days. But I will never forgive myself if worrying about me causes you to collapse from exhaustion.”

“La’an Noonien-Singh, who knew you had a flair for the dramatic?” he said with a light tease, then got to his feet and leaned over her. “Alright, I’ll go get some sleep. Good night, La’an.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, sending butterflies soaring through La’an stomach. It was very embarrassing, having feelings.

“Good night, James.” James smiled and then exited the Sickbay, leaving La’an alone with her embarrassing number of feelings.

The sedative worked wonders, however, because with no further distractions in the form of handsome men, her brain got foggy again. Her brain spooled past the last couple of days, in which James played a large part, and the Gorn was conveniently clouded in vague memories. She could still feel James’ lips pressed against hers, his fingers tracing her neck, her arm, his mouth…

She let out a giggle (La’an Noonien-Singh didn’t giggle, for crying out loud), and then sleep overtook her.

#star trek #star trek snw #strange new worlds #snw #ka'an #la'an noonien singh #james t kirk #ka'an ff #ka'an fanfic #star trek ff #star trek fanfic #lilysfics

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startrekfandomh8speopleofcolor · 9 months

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SNW has left me scared. It is going to take time to heal.

In the 1960s we saw all these characters Spock, Uhura, Kirk, Chapel,Pike, Scotty. Regardless of what you thought about gay couples, if you believed in tolerance Spirk gave you hope from watching Star Trek in the 1960s.

The Spirk pairing is the grand dad of slash. If you did not like slash and wanted to pair spock with a girl. Uhura>>>>>>>>>Chapel. Finally, There was a black girl in the 1960s who people were willing to pair with Spock or Kirk over any other girl. A black girl who was not a maid or a slave on TV, but a black female character that was shown to be the beauty and the brains . This was groundbreaking. Still is.

We did not need the JJ Verse films to push a spock/uhura romance, we can just compare the Spock/Chapel and Spock/Uhura scene from TOS to realise Uhura was the better female character to pair Spock with, if you did not se as gay for Kirk.

This was in the 60s when gay marriages or even interracial relationship were still illegal, frowned upon. Yet Trek chose to be progressive in the 60s by floating the idea of a gay and interracial pairing that fans can play with.

Fast forward 2023, we are now backwards to the 1950s were it is about worshiping the hot blonde woman that society has been doing for hundred of years. A woman who Spock already rejected in the 1960s. The woman Spock would never have been with even if he had the chance. the woman that was not even a big part of spock's life like the main crew he still carried photos off till his death.

I am a minority,a person of colour. I knew how important Uhura meant to women of colour and why she was the lead female in TOS and all the guys liked and respected her.

Since when is Chapel, sexy? can fight Klingon and Gorns? She is meant to even be a nurse.

SNW claims it is progressive but all what the show has done is take a lot from the black girl (Uhura) and the potential gay guy(Kirk) and merged their traits into SNW Chapel, all to push the spock/chapel thing that fans and writers already rejected in the 60s.

I feel a lot of black fans, especially black female star trek fans who watch SNW are going to be traumatised- because again, we are seeing society and hollywood still pushing the narrative that the hot blonde woman will always win, always get the guy, always be the status quo.

In the 1960s TOS Uhura challenged this narrative as not necessarily the truth. This is the reason she was far more popular as a character than Chapel. Nearly 60s years later SNW has told us ....yes, that is the truth. the hot blonde women still wins the war, you women of colour only win battles.

As a trek fan who came to respect the spirk pairing and the spuhura paring because they did not represent the status quo-as both pairing been a gay and interracial couple. I am not sure I can ever look at TOS the same again, knowing how the prequel has re-written the narrative. spock should not even be paired with Uhura in SNW either but please anyone but Chapel.

I am sorry but the spock/chapel pairing is an assault and an insult to gay and interracial couples

honestly I don't know about most of this but "I am not sure I can ever look at TOS the same again, knowing how the prequel has re-written the narrative. spock should not even be paired with Uhura in SNW either but please anyone but Chapel."

I cannot stand by that statement. Its frankly disgusting that you are praising TOS!Uhura but still shitting on SNW!Uhura.

Personally I ship T'Pring/Spock and I think that Chapel doesn't even know what she wants (but that she doesn't want to be tied down to anyone at all, like she's even reluctant to have The Talk with spock).

Frankly I think its unfair of Chapel to be playing with spocks feelings (that song about wanting her freedom? hello) but also I'm willing to wait to see if we get a new take on TOS after SNW. I think they should do it just so that we can get justice for Sulu and Uhura (who lets face it were basically sexy lampshades in TOS).

But again your comment that Spock shouldn't be with Uhura... is plain misogynoir. I'm willing to wait for a slow burn romance. And right now they're solidly in the friends phase and I would love to see it blossom into the flirty/romantic gazes we see in TOS (if they opted to redo the original show). I think that spock is figuring out his shit right now but as much as I'm angry that they turned Chapel into a manic pixie dream girl I don't think its an assault to gay and interracial ships.

Like in my mind I can see Spock getting traumatized by Chapel and being afraid to pursue Uhura towards the end of SNW even though he has great respect for her because Uhura is his subordinate.

But if I see you come back in my inbox with this divisive bullshit again I'm just gonna delete you. We don't need these goddamn shipping wars. We're not running this blog so you can spew your misogynoir unchecked.

mod laina

#star trek #strange new worlds #star trek: strange new worlds

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allstartrekgames · 11 months

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Star Trek: Starfleet Command

Original Release: 1999

Developer: Quicksilver / 14 Degrees East

Publisher: Interplay

Platform: PC

This ship combat game is based on the board game Star Fleet Battles (which licensed designs from Star Trek but is officially not Star Trek). This game has a lot to it. There are six races: Federation, Klingon, Romulans, Gorn, Lyran and Hydran, each with their own ships and campaign – every faction even has its own unique HUD and menu interface, a lot of effort clearly went into this game.

The same is true with the gameplay itself, there’s an immense amount of depth, so much you can do with how the weapons work, power distribution, using the transporter in offensive ways, having shuttles help you in combat and so much more. For someone who wants to feel like they’re fully managing a ship on their own, this is the kind of game for them. I personally did not enjoy it at all, with everything feeling extremely slow and sluggish, with battles feeling like endurance tests of not getting bored.

It’s not the game’s fault, really. It does what it sets out to do and does it well, it just really isn’t my kind of thing.

#star trek #star trek gaming #star trek tmp #retro games

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thethirdromana · 2 months

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DS9 Rarepair Week: Loss

Worf tipped back his head and roared. It was a raw, naked bellow of grief that echoed around the temple, even with all the weight of people’s bodies there to deaden the sound. It was utterly fitting to a Klingon funeral, and it wasn’t a sound that any human throat could produce – even a genetically modified one.

Martok had been old. Old enough that he had begun to despair of a glorious death in battle, and instead contemplated the shame of dying of old age, in bed. When the Gorn had begun raiding at the borders of Klingon space, he had leaped at the chance to get out there one last time, bat’leth in hand. He had lived and died with honour, to the last.

It was as proper and correct a Klingon funeral as any former Chancellor could have wished for. Martok’s children, his wife, and Worf as a member of his house had performed the ak’voh, keeping watch over his body the night before. It seemed as if everyone who had ever known Martok was there: representatives from all the major powers of the Alpha and Beta quadrants, at least twenty different species all in all. There was a place, and a ritual, for everyone.

Except for Julian Bashir.

He had always felt that Martok had fitted himself into Julian’s world, rather than Julian fitting into Martok’s, and mostly, he had been grateful for it. There was no role of Chancellor’s Occasional Shag in the court of the Klingon Empire, but there was plenty of precedent for an old friend to drop by Julian’s quarters when he happened to be passing Deep Space Nine. The fact that something that friend was Martok, Supreme Commander of the Ninth Fleet and Chancellor of the Klingon Empire didn’t occasion all that much comment, not on a station where the captain had been the Emissary of the Prophets and the bartender’s brother was the Grand Negus of Feringinar.

Now he wished that there had been a role for him. That he could be one of the mourners guiding the coffin into the flames, or singing a verse of the song of Martok’s life. Instead, he was merely one of the crowd. He might have known Martok only from a distance, or not at all.

He went to the feast that followed the ceremony still turning this over in his thoughts, compounding his grief. Perhaps there might have been room for him as someone who fought alongside Martok at Internment Camp 371, where they had first met, all those years ago. But then, half the people at the feast had fought alongside Martok at some point. And that would only serve to make his role there about Camp 371, and to deny everything that came afterwards.

The awkward poetry. The Klingon courtship rituals that Julian had failed to recognise at first. The formal invitation from Sirella, couched in so much ceremonial language that Julian hadn’t understood a word. The moment of realisation. The nights that followed…

He had always had friends he could speak to about his other lovers, but no one quite understood Martok. Julian hadn’t always been sure he had understood Martok himself.

The grief stung. But he couldn’t help but think that if he could name it, speak of the depths of his loss with others, then the hurt might ease, if only a little.

Thinking only of what he had lost, Julian was barely aware of what was going on around him. It was only when the crowd of people nearest to him hushed and parted that he looked up from his bloodwine.

Moving through the crowd was Lady Sirella, daughter of Linkasa, Mistress of the House of Martok, in all the finery of a Klingon widow.

Moving towards him.

“Dr Bashir,” she said, loudly enough for all the room to hear. “It grieves me to see my husband’s bangrut, whom my husband cared for for many years, cast among the common rabble at his funeral.” She turned to the assembled crowd. “This man gave much comfort to my husband in the last decades of his life. I recognise him now as a member of my house.”

She pulled a dazed Julian to his feet, and led him to the family table. When he was seated, she said to him, “It does my husband’s memory no honour to see you cast aside here.”

“I’m sorry,” Julian said. “I didn’t want to intrude on your loss.”

“And yet it is your loss as well,” Sirella said. “Perhaps we might both feel it the less, if we were to share it. Tell me of how you and my husband met. I haven’t heard that story in many years.”

And as Julian began to speak of the terrifying Klingon warrior he had got to know at Camp 371, he knew that she was right.

#star trek #DS9RarepairWeek #julian bashir #martok #bashir/martok

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apocalypticavolition · 4 months

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Let's (re)Read The Great Hunt! Chapter 27: The Shadow in the Night

I couldn't find any Trolloc puppets so this is what we're going with I guess. It seemed better than pictures of real life fireworks accidents where I wasn't sure if maybe someone got seriously hurt or not. I'm pretty sure that no one got hurt in this episode of Star Trek; the Gorn lived. But I can't promise that about this book series, so if you don't want that kind of spoilers for Wheel of Time, or really any kind of spoilers, it's best not to click keep reading.

This chapter has the Trolloc triptych since we will be getting Trollocs in Cairhien.

The street was empty save for one of the big puppets, a goat-horned Trolloc with a sword at its belt, coming toward them with five men working the poles, but sounds of merriment drifted still from other parts of the Foregate, where the halls of entertainment and the taverns stood. Here, doors were already barred and windows shuttered.

Presumably this is the work of the undescribed man who saw Rand awhile back. I suppose that if Fain is going to defy fate, he might as well defy narrative convention as well.

Instinct brought the sword out of its sheath in a flashing arc. The Moon Rises Over the Lakes.

Honestly the motion I picture when I think of the sword form's name is a bit more complex than a flashing arc, but it gets points for being such a great name.

“Loial, we have to get back to the inn. Hurin’s alone, and they—” He grunted as he was lifted into the air by a thick arm long enough to pin both of his to his chest.

Rand's Shadowspawn Senses still don't seem to have kicked in yet.

The Power. That could do it. How, he did not know, but he knew nothing else to try. The Trolloc had its sword half unsheathed. When the curved blade was bare, it would kill Loial.

I love it when a hero is forced to use an undesirable power because the escalation of the narrative has left them with nothing else.

Driven by a distant desperation, he tried again and again. And again and again there was only the taint.

Of course, that really only makes it all the more hilarious that Rand isn't capable of channeling consistently yet.

“I’m sorry you had to do it, Loial, but it would have killed both of us, or worse.” “I know. But I cannot like it. Even a Trolloc.” Pointing toward the setting sun, the Ogier seized Rand’s arm. “There’s another of them.”

Funny how this bit of work towards Perrin's arc is here in Rand's, considering how many dead Trollocs this boy will be making even in Zen Mode.

He pulled Loial along to the next corner and turned toward the nearest sounds of laughter and music, but long before they reached it, another group of men appeared ahead of them in the otherwise empty street with a puppet that was no puppet.

Rand has something in common with that Trolloc, I suppose. There are some parallels of course - the puppeteers are far less dangerous than the "puppet"; they control it only to the degree that it's convenient for the Trolloc, everything is being done out of sight and in the shadows - but I'm sad to say that I'm at a blank for any deeper meaning.

Sometimes, here where there were no eyes to see, a Trolloc stalked alone. More than once he was sure it was one he had seen before. They were closing in, and making sure he and Loial did not leave the deserted streets with their shuttered windows.

I really like that the Trollocs are still terrifying at this point.

“I don’t have it with me,” he snapped, “and I don’t know how it could help if I did. The dead heroes are not supposed to come back to save me from Trollocs. Selene, you have to get away. Now!”

This is (very likely unintentional) irony, since the Horn isn't blown in the Last Battle until a young boy with no other options has to be saved from Trollocs.

“Seek the Oneness, and be calm. One who would be great must always be calm.”

This is also ironic, since Lanfear has the chill of a blast furnace on the surface of the sun.

Selene cut him off. “If he wants to go in, alantin, he needs a door. Such as that one.” She pointed to a dark patch a little down the wall. Even with her telling him, Rand was not certain it was a door, but when she strode to it and pulled, it opened.

If it weren't for the fact that the far side of this wall had brackets for a bar, I'd half think that Selene had some incredible forgotten weave for turning walls into doors.

At the worst, humans had to be better to deal with than Trollocs. He might be able to talk the Illuminators into letting them go; Trollocs did not listen before they killed.

Rand of course will forget this lesson much later in his dealings with the Seanchan.

The woman’s dress, worked elaborately across the breast, seemed a pale green, and her hair was done in a multitude of short braids.

Hi Aludra! Sorry about what happens to you for the next six books or so. (Also hi Tammuz I guess? Apparently you're technically a recurring character. Good luck with that; I barely remember you from this chapter and I only reread it seven hours ago.)

In any case, fireworks were too expensive for the Village Council to have allowed anybody unskilled to open one. He could well remember the time when Mat had tried to do just that; it was nearly a week before anyone but Mat’s own mother would speak to him.

I'm pretty sure we hear about this story again. I'm also pretty sure Mat will finally open a firework next book.

Rand was just breathing a sigh of relief as they approached the low wall—and the alleys and buildings behind it—when Loial brushed against another rack, standing right beside the wall. It held ten soft-looking sticks, as long as Rand’s arm, with thin streams of smoke rising from their tips. The rack made hardly a sound when it fell, the smoldering sticks sprawling across one of the fuses.

It's like the Illuminators were asking for their chapterhouse to be burned down, frankly.

“Sometimes,” Selene said quietly, “if you are very still, no one can see you at all.” She did not sound the least bit worried.

This is both a useful observational fact about life and clearly a good weave.

“I am not to blame for this, Aludra,” the man protested. “I have been sure to put everything where it belonged, and the punks, they were—”

Sorry Tammuz, I'm absolutely blaming you.

“It is said great men make their own luck,” Selene said softly.

Lanfear: Just because I'm pretending to be a helpless noblewoman doesn't mean I'm not going to expect credit for every secret thing I do to help you.

“Your greatness will make me happy.” Despite the words, Selene sounded angry. “Perhaps I should leave you to find your own way for a time. If you’ll not take greatness when it is in your grasp, perhaps you deserve to die.”

I can see why she hooked up with LTT in the first place and why the dude dumped her the second he had a chance with a slightly more chill woman.

“You let me worry about the Trollocs.” Three of them. I might do it, with the void.

Of course, Rand is finally embracing the greatness she wants anyway. Doesn't even realize it.

It tilted, started to fall over, and he caught the square wooden base; the tube pointed straight at the Trollocs.

Hence the picture above.

Blinking, Rand staggered to his feet, coughing in thick, acrid smoke, ears ringing.

Jordan should have added tinnitus to Rand's list of agonies because it is a bitch and the boy damages his ear drums way too much not to end up with it.

“An old woman, my Lord. Not a quarter of an hour gone. A servant, though she did not say from what House.” Cuale smiled as if inviting confidences.

Definitely Lanfear in disguise. She's not too vain to try and fool Rand this way as we'll know from later, and the difference in age is more than enough for Mr. Idiot here not to suspect that the Obviously Magic Woman following him around improbably might have left the letter herself.

Think of the glory. “I wish Ingtar would come.”

Rand would have been a great hornblower, since he always slides right past the glory in favor of the salvation.

#let's read #wheel of time #wot #robert jordan #wheel of time spoilers #wot spoilers #rand al'thor #loial #lanfear #tammuz #aludra #cuale #hurin

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