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laundrybiscuits · 10 months

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Eddie's mama always used to say that the night sky over Orion was the most beautiful sight in the Alpha Quadrant. She'd tuck him into her side at bedtime and tell him about the way the dim red lamps clustered in the markets never stopped you being able to see the bright stars and the swirling lights of the nearby nebula, so it was just a shimmering sea of red below and a shimmering sea of blue-purple-gold above, light and dark all mixed up together so you couldn’t tell the difference.

Eddie's never laid eyes on it himself, but he always liked hearing her talk about it. He asked Wayne about it once or twice, when he was younger, but Wayne grew up like Eddie's old man: roaming around systems farther and farther from the Orion sector, following whatever work he could get. Eddie's old man was a sight less choosy about which jobs he'd take than Wayne was, which is why Eddie’s been living with Wayne for about as long as he can remember.

Starfleet offered to help Eddie relocate, after everything went down. They even offered to make sure he got to Orion okay, if he'd wanted it, to reconnect with his heritage or whatever.

He hadn't wanted it. But he also hadn't really wanted to stay where he’d been planetside, where his official job was helping Wayne out with the Starfleet Academy’s satellite campus canteen, and his unofficial job was procuring various not-Starfleet-approved odds and ends for cadets looking for something to help them weather the pressures of the Academy.

Commander Hopper, newly returned from the dead, had made it pretty damn clear that Eddie's sideline was no longer going to be an option, anyway.

So he'd talked to Wayne, and he'd talked to Commander Hopper, and he'd even talked a little to Nancy Wheeler because she's smart as hell—everyone knows she's one of the top candidates for joining, and a symbiont is going to snatch her up any day now.

After all that talking, he still doesn’t really know what to do, so Hopper sighs and tells him he doesn’t have to decide right away.

“I just,” he says later, to Robin. “I don’t know what I’m doing here, but it’s not like I got any big plans somewhere else, either. Plus, everyone on the damn station still looks at me like I’m a murderer. Or at least Orion filth.”

Robin sort of gets it, a little bit, but she’s Starfleet. It’s different in uniform, even for half-Andorians who once crashed a runabout into the side of the base.

“You could always apply to the Academy,” she says, but she’s got a grimace like she already knows that’s never gonna happen. Even if they’d take him, he’d have no chance of making it through the course, not when he’d squeaked through the standard Federation educational system by the skin of his teeth. He can’t really picture himself in the uniform anyway. Not his style at all.

“Think those feral bat creatures gobbled up whatever mutant gland makes people want to join Starfleet,” he just says, pulling up his shirt and prodding at his wounds to make her laugh.

Of course that’s when Steve Harrington walks in, when Eddie’s got his shirt hiked up around his armpits and all his shiny new scars are on full display.

The scars are still a lurid emerald going brownish-purple around the edges. When he’d first woken up in the medbay, he’d been told that they’d probably fade with time, but might never go away despite all the intensive dermal regeneration treatments he’s still going in for every week. He doesn’t mind so much, honestly; he’s never been too hung up on his looks. People who want to fuck an exotic, dangerous Orion aren’t exactly going to be put off by scars, so who knows? This might actually help him out a little in the dive bars he tends to haunt when he gets skin-hungry enough.

But it’s definitely not doing him any favors now, as Steve pauses in the doorway, looking kind of confused. Eddie quickly yanks his shirt back down, hiding a wince. Steve’s already seen him at his worst, Steve’s not a fucking option for a million reasons, so it’s not like it matters, but—anyway.

“Junior Lieutenant Harrington,” he says. “Heard about the promotion. Congrats.”

“Thanks,” says Steve. “I think it’s like, you get three or four concussions saving the station, and the system just puts the promotion through automatically.”

“I can’t wait to see what it takes for you to make Lieutenant, non-junior edition,” says Robin. “Do you think you’ll need to be in an actual coma?”

“Probably, at this rate,” Steve says, wandering over and leaning into her side companionably. “Don’t think anything’s really going to change aside from the pay, though.”

“Nah, just wait.” Eddie rocks back on his heels, grinning at Steve. “You’ll be battling evil wormhole monsters on perilous away missions and teaching alien babes how to love before you know it. The daring adventures of Spaceman Steve! Eat your heart out, James T. Kirk.”

“Henderson still thinks you’re gonna join up too,” says Steve.

“What, Starfleet? Where the hell’d he get that idea?”

“Ugh, we were just talking about that,” groans Robin. “Eddie’s still being stubborn about it.”

Eddie crosses his arms. “Wheeler’s on my side.”

“No shit, Eddie. You’re his…game lord, or whatever.”

“What—no, dumbass, like I’d ever ask Cadet Wheeler for advice. Nancy goddamn Wheeler agrees I’d make a shit Starfleet officer, so there. Besides,” Eddie says, shifting a little uncomfortably. “I dunno if I could handle not living planetside. I know you guys have missions and stuff, but it’s not the same, is it? You live on a floating hunk of metal, like, ninety-nine percent of your life. Don’t know if that’s for me.”

“Didn’t figure you for the kind of guy who wanted to put down roots,” says Steve.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “It’s not about roots. Don’t you ever feel weird about not living somewhere…you know, real? Everything around you is made exactly for you.”

“And that’s…bad?” says Steve. His brow’s furrowed like he’s actually asking.

“Not if you don’t think it is.” Eddie shrugs. “I just don’t think it works for me.”

“Okay, yeah, we get it,” says Robin. “You’re off to the next adventure, whatever that ends up being. Better cash in your chips soon, though; Hopper’s not gonna have that recently-reanimated pull forever.”

Steve frowns thoughtfully. “What about running, like, a transport ship or whatever? Is that weird with the, uh, pirate thing?”

“Little bit,” says Eddie. “But that’s…not the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

Actually, the more he thinks about it, the better it sounds. Some shiny little skiff, just big enough for him and some cargo, zipping around from planet to satellite to base, hanging out in random ports. It’ll be a little rough to go solo, and jobs might be a little scarcer than they’d be for a human or something, but then again, he’s used to that.

No, it’s not the worst idea he’s ever heard.

#STxST AU #steddie #okay I've tried a few different angles on this one but I think this might be the one that sticks. hopefully. who knows.#I just really want to write Eddie as basically Orion-diaspora!Kasidy Yates #(I've mostly just watched DS9 + DIS + LD + TOS with a smattering of TNG/VOY)#(and I saw the TOS movies many years ago but only the first reboot movie)#(so...sorry if I screw any universe details up! memory-alpha can only go so far!)#fic: hazy cosmic jive

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divinemissem13 · 9 months

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30 Days of Prodigy, day 17: Admiral Janeway

Admiral Janeway sighs with relief as she steps into her quarters at the end of another long day. She kicks off her boots and shrugs off her admiral’s jacket, leaving a pile of Starfleet armor on the floor to be dealt with later, and pads over to the replicator where she orders a glass of red wine.

All day long, she is Admiral Janeway: fearless, hopeful, and unshakeable.

But alone in her quarters at night, she can just be Kathryn.

This has become her nightly ritual, on this long journey to rescue Chakotay. She sheds her armor and then Kathryn curls up on the couch with a glass of wine, wrapped in the tribal blanket he gave to her years ago, back on the first USS Voyager.

She imagines it still smells like him. It probably doesn’t.

She looks out at the stars as she sips her wine and she talks to him. She doesn’t say anything of consequence. She tells him about her day. She tells him about the antics that the Hellions (which is how she refers to the former crew of the USS Protostar and their shadow, Miral Paris) have gotten up to. She tells him about the class 4 nebula that they flew past and that maybe they’ll stop to study it further on the way back, but there’s just no time now for such frivolities. Besides, she thinks he would enjoy studying the nebula too.

Truthfully, she is fairly certain that the only reason he cares at all about studying nebulas is because he likes to watch her watching it.

When she has run out of new stories to tell, she begins recounting old ones.

She ends, as she always does, with the story of the Angry Warrior who found peace. Only then does she allow a tear to slide down her cheek.

She stands, still clutching the empty wine glass and wrapped in the blanket, and she presses her palm to the glass. He’s out there somewhere, waiting for her. The stars twinkle encouragingly as she silently pleads for them to guide her to him.

Then, just like every night, she folds the blanket carefully over the back of the couch. She recycles her wine glass and she picks up the pieces of her uniform from the floor and puts them in the refresher for tomorrow.

Tonight, she puts on a long, quilted nightgown. She wears it because it is chilly in her quarters.

But also because, for some unfathomable reason, it is his favorite.

She slides between the cool, desolate sheets and orders the lights off. Before she darkens the viewport, she turns onto her side to look out once more at the vast field of twinkling lights and she completes the ritual.

“Good night, Chakotay. I’ll see you soon,” she whispers to the stars.

#admiral janeway #kathryn janeway #janeway x chakotay #j/c #all the feels #star trek prodigy #save star trek prodigy #savestartrekprodigy #i wrote this #30daysofprodigy #fanfic

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whirligig-girl · 11 months

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Isabel Guz! In the 22nd-And-A-Half Century!

Image ID: Digital drawing of a Eaurp Guz and Hoshi Sato in the NX-01 starship Enterprise mess hall. Guz is a green slimegirl, Hoshi Sato is a japanese human woman. They are both wearing navy-blue united earth starfleet jumpsuits. Hoshi's uniform has blue lining and Guz's uniform has red lining. They both have ensign's pips. Guz looks a little flustered and melty, while Hoshi just looks happy. Guz is eating soup. Hoshi has a sandwich and some beans. There is a purple and blue nebula visible out the window. End ID.

pre-ent-season-1 Introduction to Isabel Guz under the cut:

Ensign Guz was in the 602 club, enjoying a fruity beverage and talking to Ensign Reed about Titan V missiles. Guz was in uniform--her navy-blue jumpsuit with red stripes, but Reed was wearing a polo shirt and shorts. Reed spotted his crewmates from across the room and waived them over to the booth.

"Uh, Isabel, this is, ahem, Lieutenant Tucker and Commander Archer, from Project Enterprise."

"Please, call me Trip."

Guz's eyes went wide. "Wow! Howdy, I'm, uh, Ensign Isabel Guz, nice to meetchy'all."

Trip cocked his head to the side. "Ensign, where you from?"

"No clue sir, but I was raised in Greensboro."

"Ah, one of them reclaimation project towns?" Trip said.

Guz nodded. "There weren't much uh the city left after the 2nd civil war, but that meant it wasn't one of the targets during world war three."

Commander Archer chuckled to himself, then cleared his throat. "I think you and Trip have a lot in common. He was raised in Panama City."

"A real life Florida man...," Guz marvelled.

"In the flesh," Trip said.

"Have you ever made it out to Cape Canaveral? I know it's mostly a crater reclaimed by swamp at this point but I've heard the historical society opened the ruins of the VAB to visitors! I've always wanted to go, but I never found the time, and--"

"Calm down Ensign. I've done better than that. I've seen the preserved Saturn Five booster in Huntsville, Alabama."

"No... way..." Guz said.

"Forgive me for prying but, what's with the, uhh..." Archer said, gesturing vaguely at Guz's whole deal.

“The slime? The Vulcan scientists said I came to them as a cylinder of biomimetic compound salvaged from a Zaldan Empire ship. They didn't get any records, so I dunno what planet I'm from. Ain't like it matters; as far as I'm concerned, I'm from North Carolina."

"Zaldans?" Archer said

"They're at a similar level of development to Earth, but with much wider infrastructure. That's all the Vulcans told me about them.”

“So are you like, some kinda shapeshifter?” Trip said.

“If you want to learn all about me, feel free to read the Vulcan paper, Development and Maturation of a Biomimetic Mold Organism. If you can read Vulcan, that is. You’ll learn all about my shapeshifting abilities, or lackthereof; my fluidity, material structure, sentience profile… pain response.”

The table went silent. Guz looked down awkwardly, more upset that she’d made things awkward than about what the Vulcans did to her all those years ago.

“Hey, ma’am, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--”

Guz feigned cheering up. “It’s ok. We all know how Vulcans can be!”

The waitress came up to the table. “The usuals, gentlemen?”

“Thanks, Ruby,” Archer said.

“How ‘bout Isabel?” Trip said.

“You’ve already guessed that one,” Ruby said.

“Damn,” Trip said, snapping his fingers.

“Wh-what was that about?” Guz said.

“Ruby said she’ll marry the first guy who guesses what she wants to name her kids.”

Guz muttered under her breath, “or maybe the first slimegirl…”

Archer furrowed his brow and pursed his lips, a little surprised.

Ruby came back with some drinks, and Archer continued in his small talk. “So, Ensign, where are you assigned?”

“I’m on Captain Jeffries’ engineering team.”

“Oh, damn, is he overworking you?” Trip said.

“I can handle the workload,” Guz said. “But I’m hoping to actually get… you know, out there some day. I’m hoping to get on one of those Freedoms, or maybe an Intrepid--”

#Eaurp Guz #Slimegirl #Star Trek #ENT #Enterprise #Star Trek Enterprise #Star Trek Fanart #Original Character #Hoshi #Hoshi Sato

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credinaa · 1 year

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hangar 6, spaceport, october 18th, 7pm, @rozwhitlock

on wings and take a fisher to work days

if there was one thing sasha loved more than flying, then it was showing off how good she was at doing so. you don’t get to fly around a councilwoman for nothing (as she did just three days ago) and teaching young students with no idea how to maneuver a jet was an honor as well (or that’s what she tried to convince herself of). entering the hangar, helmet in her hands and dressed in flight uniform already, her heart skipped a bit as soon as she saw the starfighters. there were nine of them at the moment, all singles except for hers, which could fit two, usually used to take starfleet students for their first flight, as the second pilot could take over any time.

“a-ten-tion!” a nearby specialist called as soon as she came in sight of her students, which lead to them hushing to find the right position in front of one of the fighters. “at ease.”, was her reply, having them stand in a more comfortable, but still quite formal positon. “fleetmen.”, she continued, “it will not be long until you will hopefully finish basic training. most of you have been working very hard to achieve good, if not the best skills, but today, i want to test you a little more than usual. a leoran fisher will be joining us today, flying with me - and our plan for today are low flights. we’ll fly a meteor shower in a nebula simulation, as i have announced at the beginning of this course. with a special feature, though - we’ll fly not in space, but above leoran waters. anyone who touches the water, will be eliminated. the winner - or winners - will be granted an extensive course with me on starfleet v-wings and will fly one. but i’m going to warn you - the simulation gets harder the better you are and the longer you keep up. it will last a total of two hours and includes ten levels. as soon as you reach level ten, i will be notified and will act as a galactic fiend starfighter and will try my best to take you down as well. fleetmen, step away!”

finishing up her explanation, she allowed them to prepare their starfighters, while taking care of her own, waiting for roz to join her. sasha wasn’t nervous, but very much excited as she zipped up her uniform properly.

#* FIRST CONTACT / roz whitlock #* MISSION / wings and work days

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ltkarma · 2 years

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star trek verse : watch the stars and see yourself running with them

avigail yael baker , daughter of a starfleet captain and his diplomat wife - brought up on bases and ships , very much used to artificial gravity - growing up amongst stars and nebulae that scatter the milky way. space is her second home , years pass without her setting foot back on solid ground , upon the earth she was born to. her dreams are filled with forests and lakes, mountains - the endless cloud filled skies of her home planet. but when she returns it’s to the academy. to a world she’s imagined for so long and so happily - but returning home is one thing, feeling satisfied about it is another - because she understands what she was born to do - and staying on earth, working in vaults and libraries isn’t something she can face. not when she has a universe to explore.

her natural skill is for languages and translation - a passion for xenolinguistics forming the core of her commission. a thousand planets worth of knowledge flows through her as easily as the melody of a song. passion and obsession proves to be her catalyst, finding her feet first as an ensign on board the uss atlantis, followed by the magellan.

but happiness doesn’t last long , her father killed - murdered during conflict. her mother sent screaming , destroyed and traumatised by the events she witnessed - running back to the safety of earth, back to the sanctuary of firm ground. dragging avi back to terra firma with her and refusing to let go.

reaching for the stars begins to feel like something she’ll never be able to achieve again. a five year mission stretching out and away from her as she reaches and fails at the last hurdle. finding herself back at the academy, back to a teaching position made comfortable and safe just for her. a trap made to keep her close - to chain her feet and hang around her neck like an albatross. but with skill comes interest , students passing through her classroom , superiors looking over her work and wondering why she isn’t on active duty. all the while she waits , all the while her mother looks over her shoulder and watches from the senate floor like a hawk.

until the day the decision is made for her. the day her expertise and study pay off. a mission that needs her. an offering of a bridge position - communications officer - a challenge she needs and wants onboard a ship she’s only dreamt of. a chance to escape. she has her orders and her heart tells her not to look back but face forward and reach towards the future she’s always wanted.

NOTES:

✶ avi still focuses on languages and communications, obviously this has shifted to her working comms rather than intel in trek verse - but she still has that experience and could move within departments easily.

✶ she’s slightly aged up in this verse to be more mid rather than early thirties. i place her around thirty six.

✶ she’s still a lieutenant , should have become a lieutenant commander by now but has turned down advancement twice due to the fact she feels that she doesn’t deserve it.

✶ still hella jewish. still wears her magen david underneath her uniform. still tattooed and quiet about it.

#* [ VERSE : STAR TREK . ]#( trying to keep this as open as possible for as many different muses as possible. )#( took me long enough to actually formulate this whole thing ! )#* [ ADDITIONAL VERSES. ]

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evcryopeneye · 2 years

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@facetedspades asked: ❰❰ MEDIC ❱❱ sender bandages receiver’s wounds (Julian for Tilly?)

Everything hurt. Her body ached. Like she had fallen down the stairs and broken all of her bones. While she had seen some weird shit in her time at Starfleet, this took the bucket. Weird shit wasn’t normally happening to her. In her head, she could still hear the ringing of red alert alarms. Dazed, she couldn’t shake herself out of that little circuit, replaying over and over the moment where consoles had sparked, where the shuttle had jolted forward, to the moment where it seemed everything went…wrong?

She could only begin to hypothesis what had happened. Something to do with the nebula maybe? The anomaly inside that they had been mapping? At least under Pike their mission as a science vessel had become science…and not war. It was finally the moment that Tilly was starting to feel like she fit in, like Starfleet was in fact where she belonged. Then they had been flung into another space and time.

She assumed time. The uniforms she didn’t recognise, the delta she very much did. Yet, asking questions of her own future never occurred to her, instead as the sound around her came back into sharp focus she asked a simple question, “did you say something?”

#facetedspades #&&char: Sylvia Tilly

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elen-aranel · 2 years

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Chanced Chapter 1: Starbase 52

Pairing: Christopher Pike x F!Reader (no Y/N) Warnings: Starbases. Is that a reasonable warning? WC: 3k Notes: this started as a 5+1 things type situation, but the +1 ran long. It’s a prequel to another fic but I’ll leave it to you to find that one if you want! Rating: Mature for moments in later chapters Summary: You look up as someone comes through the door; a tall, handsome someone, dark haired, wearing a plain grey shirt and black trousers but with an upright, Starfleet bearing.

Masterlist • Next Chapter >

Starbase 52, 2241

Starbase 52 is large. The largest base you’ve docked at personally, you think, as you hail station control and wait to get an approach vector assigned. It’s tall, grey, and circular, bulbous in parts, in orbit of a gas giant. There are rings of windows round the station, and nebulous plumes of green-blue gas gently flare against it every minute or two, making the shields sparkle orange.

Normally you would enjoy a view like this, watching the other ships flying round the station too, but today you just want to get docked. You’re on your first leave since you got your commission, and you’re due to meet your best friend Penny for a catch up. And you’re going to see Space Sister together, the coolest band in the quadrant. Your fellow junior officers on the De Milo had been so jealous. There were attempted bribes. People volunteering to take your duty shifts if you would take them with you. But this is yours and Penny’s special thing. You watched bootleg holos of them when you were teens, before you joined the academy, and she got her own little cargo ship. You know all their songs by heart.

“Starbase 52 to Shuttle Lizzie Bennet. You are cleared to dock at port 35 on the third ring. Please follow the vector assigned.”

“Acknowledged,” you reply, pressing buttons to route the course transmission to your navigation computer, flipping switches to activate it. Soon you’ll be with Penny, at the concert, having the time of your life.

You love your little ship, the Lizzie Bennet. You had to get special dispensation to keep her with you in Starfleet, but she was your inheritance, in a way. A gift from your parents who still hoped you’d join them in the family freight business. She’s small – shuttle sized – but sturdy, engines well able to keep up with the average shuttle, even in the fleet, but she’s older. You need to update her synthesisers, and there is absolutely no chance of cooking fresh food in that tiny space. So your first priorities on docking are finding food, and finding Penny.

You’re in civvies, something stylish but comfortable. Wearing them helps you drop your Starfleet posture and disappear into the crowd. That, and doing your hair. You’ll put it back at the end of your leave but for now it’s pale pink, the same colour as the band’s bassist, Rosa Nebula, and out of the utilitarian style you have it in for work. Penny hasn’t seen it like this yet – you’re hoping it’ll make her laugh.

You have your PADD in a cleverly disguised pocket where you can feel it, make sure it’s not going to be lifted by any of the pickpockets you’re sure must work the promenade. Your eye for this kind of thing has been honed as a security officer, but you’ve been around places like this all your life. You can see the people, all different species, pretending to be busy, but actually eyeing up the passing foot traffic.

And there is a lot of foot traffic.

A few Starfleet officers in navy uniforms, walking around purposefully, clearly at work. Groups of Starfleet officers wearing civvies, on downtime – you can tell by their bearing, the way they always act so confident, as though they own the place, that that’s what they are. Civilians: a mix of traders, diplomats, and just regular people here in transit or here for the concert. At least four other people with the same colour hair as you in this section alone.

And the shops. Even you have to take a moment to admire the store displays on either side of you. Holo-mannequins showing off the latest clothes, in all styles, traditional for various different cultures and the latest fashions. A colourful store with bright lights selling toys. Understated displays of luxury goods – jewellery and perfume from across the Federation and further afield. And of course, food places.

Your directory told you that fine dining is on the upper promenade (and for those well enough off, there’s another more exclusive tier after that), but even on this level… your stomach grumbles as you go past an Andorian fast food place. Your mouth waters as you smell Kohlanese stew wafting out from a different cafe as you pass.

But your goal, the first place you eat on any Starbase that has one, and the place you will meet up with Penny, is Miller’s Sandwiches. You heard your grandfather might have known the Mr Miller that started it, but it’s one of those places, with an unassuming front, that if you know, you know.

Even inside it doesn’t look all that different from any other sandwich shop, with its counter taking up one wall, and tables and chairs and booths in the rest of the room. But their food is all fresh. Their supply chain boggles your mind (and is one of the reasons you went into Starfleet rather than the family business), but wherever you go to a Miller’s you get perfect fresh baked bread, never more than a few hours old. Crisp salad leaves which taste as though they came straight from the market garden this morning. Sharp cheeses. Perfectly cooked meats. Charcuterie transported across the quadrant from Earth. It isn’t fancy, and it’s odd to call it a taste of home because Earth isn’t your home, not really. But nothing is synthesised and everything is real, and it’s the kind of food that you would make for lunch, if you had a kitchen on Lizzie Bennett, or on the De Milo.

You scan the tables. It’s late for lunch, station time, and there are plenty of spaces. Penny isn’t here yet, but you had expected to be the first one to arrive. You smile at the server as she prepares your sandwich. You’ve had plenty of time to work out what you want; you thought about going for something more elaborate than usual, and you even tried to prepare yourself mentally for them not having your favourites – fresh food is never guaranteed. But as you take your sandwich and mug of Earl Grey to a table with a good view of the entrance you feel satisfied. This is exactly what you’ve been looking forward to. You inhale, smelling the bread, and it tastes just as good as it smells as you take a bite. You and Penny will probably have fancier food while you’re here, but this is a perfect start.

You get your PADD and communicator out when you’ve finished the first half of your sandwich. You rigged them up together so you could take video calls; station comms in general and in public areas in particular are a bit dodgy. You look up as someone comes through the door; a tall, handsome someone, dark haired, wearing a plain grey shirt and black trousers but with an upright, Starfleet bearing. Not Penny, for sure. She’s short, slight and blonde. You wonder where she is. You return your attention to your PADD, and check your messages. There’s one from Penny, five minutes ago.

“I’m so sorry. I tried, I really tried, but an ion storm hit us in the Carrera sector. Factor 5. Came out of nowhere and took out all our primary systems. I’ve only just got enough on comms back to send this message; I feel awful that I can’t even call you live.” Penny shakes her head, blonde hair messy and tangled, face streaked with grease and dirt, jumpsuit ripped. “When I have propulsion up I’m going to have to go to straight to Gamma Gemini IV or I’ll lose this shipment, and… I know you understand. I’ll call you when I can. I’m sorry to miss the concert but I’m even more sorry to miss you, I—well. I’ll call you. Love you babe.” She waves with a half-hearted smile before the screen goes dark.

You sigh, tears welling up in your eyes despite yourself. You hadn’t realised how much you were counting on seeing a friendly face after all this time. You chose Starfleet, and you’re doing what you want to do, but it is hard, being the most junior, learning the ropes, and the thought of seeing your friend had got you through the last month or two.

You stare down at the other half of your sandwich. Suddenly it doesn’t seem appetising anymore. You pick a little bit off the bread and put it in your mouth, but before where it was savoury and delicious, now it tastes of nothing. You should really recycle it. You think about the tickets to the show later… is there even any point in going if you can’t be with your friend?

“Excuse me?” Your pity party is interrupted by a deep voice, and you look up into the handsome face of the man you noticed earlier.

“Yes?” Your voice comes out unfriendly, but you’re past caring.

“Can I—?” He motions to put his tray down, and you stare, obviously, at all the other empty tables he could have picked, before returning your gaze to him.

“I’m not going to stop you,” you say, and thumb off your PADD, going to return it to your pocket. He sits, and… yeah. You might as well leave. “I’m going now anyway, so sure. Have the table.” You move to take your tray.

“Wait, are you just going to recycle your sandwich? Come on. This is Miller’s. You know that’s a waste.” He smiles a little – only a wisp of a thing – but it’s charming somehow. You know he’s right, and you put the tray back down. “I knew you’d make the right choice.” He picks up his black coffee and takes a sip. “I’m sure a girl like you gets unwanted attention all the time, and I wouldn’t usually add to that. But… when I came in, you were happily eating, yet by the time my food was ready you were almost in tears. I know it’s none of my business, and you can tell me to go to hell if you want to, but I have to ask: are you okay?”

You look into his wide blue eyes. You like to think you’re pretty good at reading people, and you know you can handle anyone if they cross the line. You study him and you just see sincerity there. You frown a little. Maybe you would feel better if you talked.

“My best friend… we were supposed to go to the concert later.”

“Space Sister? Figured you were here for them—your hair. But that’s a hot ticket. What happened?”

“She had to bail. An ion storm hit her ship. Factor 5.”

He winces. “Is she okay?”

“Her ship’s in one piece, but she can’t make it here now. Cargo.” He nods, expression sympathetic, and suddenly you just want to talk. “I miss her, you know? We grew up together and I never see her, and I was looking forward to it so much, and now who knows how long it’ll be? I can’t reroute to meet her; my next stop is in the opposite direction. And I’m thinking I’m just going to go back to my ship and leave.”

He nods. “You could do that. But would your friend really want you to give up your treat here because she has to? I don’t know her – I don’t know you – but… even if it’s not what you hoped, I’m sure you can find a way to have a little enjoyment while you’re here. You could start with that sandwich – if you leave, when are you going to get another one that’s as good?” He raises his brow at you, and you shrug, pick up the sandwich and take a bite. And while it may not taste as good as it did when you were full of happiness and excitement, it’s still pretty good. Despite yourself you sigh, satisfied.

“I guess you’re right,” you say when you’ve finished your mouthful.

“Not the enthusiasm I was looking for, but I’ll take it,” he says, starting in on his own sandwich. “I’m Christopher, by the way. Chris. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

You introduce yourself, and get to chatting over your food. And it isn’t the same as being with Penny, but as you talk about the band, and your favourite songs by them (you’ve yet to meet anyone who didn’t like at least some of their music), and your sandwiches and the difficulty of cooking in space, you find yourself feeling better.

“Hey so… are you doing anything later?” You ask as he finishes his coffee. “It’s just I seem to have this spare ticket and it’d be a shame for it to go to waste…”

He smiles, but it goes a little rueful. “I really wasn’t trying to pick you up, you know. I’m free; I’m only here until tomorrow, when I have to—not important. I’m not saying I’d never pick up a cute girl in a sandwich shop but… It’s not normally my style and I don’t think that’s what you need.”

“You’re right. I don’t need a date. But… I could use a friend. How about it?”

“Yes. I could be your friend. I’d love to come.”

“Cool. Do you want to meet back here before it starts? Half an hour before?”

“Well, if I’m going to be a substitute for your friend, what would you have done with her this afternoon?”

You skip the clothes shopping; you’re not ready to get opinions on dresses from a virtual stranger. But although you would really like to update your synthesiser, you know you need to replace your aft starboard plasma manifold, because manoeuvring into your dock was an… interesting experience. And that’s how you end up buying starship parts with Chris.

“You should try microfusion thrusters. They’re much more reliable,” he says, a sleek-looking assembly in his hand.

“Do I look like I’m made of credits?” You laugh. “Yes, I’m always replacing thruster manifolds, but I don’t even know how the microfusion ones work. The only thing I know about them is that they can explode. And they’re like… ten times as expensive?”

“They’re worth it, though. I worked with them in a shuttle design I tested and they handle like a dream. No explosions in thousands of hours logged through the project.”

“So you’re a test pilot?”

“Not anymore. But it was a fun assignment.” He hands you a component you don’t recognise. “A nano-manifold resonator. Not as expensive as a microfusion thruster, but it pre-filters the plasma so the manifolds should last longer, even if you don’t get the handling benefits. Easy to install, too, the engineers tell me.”

You turn it round in your hands. It seems straightforward; you can see how you’d fit it into the thruster assembly.

“All right, I’ll try it. But I’ll send the bill to you if it burns out.”

“Deal.”

The afternoon passes quickly; Chris is good company. After starship parts you move on to alcohol. Real drinks – not synthehol – are always popular on the De Milo, you’ve found, and you figure if you have some you should increase your popularity on the ship. Chris is knowledgeable on them too, steering you toward Antarean brandy and whiskeys distilled on Earth.

“This your ship?” Chris looks at Lizzie Bennet with a practiced eye as you return to her to stow your acquisitions. “What is she, a cargo corvette? Class 2? Class 1? Bet she was fast in her day.”

“Class 1b. She can keep up now. And she can give you at least second degree burns with her phasers, so y’know. Be careful.”

He laughs. “Noted.”

“I’ll just dump my stuff then we can get going… I’d ask you in but it’s pretty cramped inside.”

He gives you a small smile, understanding, and you step in. You stow your acquisitions in a storage bin, and fire off a quick message to Penny.

“So sad you can’t make it. Totally understand, I hope your cargo is okay and you get paid. Still going to go to the concert but it won’t be the same. Even found someone else to go with — will tell you all about it when we can have a proper comm. Take care babe.”

The concert is magical. The hall is huge, and they’ve installed screens on the walls, ceilings, and floors – every flat surface, it seems like. And from the first chord you’re transported to another world. You sing at the top of your voice, and on the most popular songs Chris does too, the energy of everyone enjoying themselves, singing and dancing, buoying you up.

“Thank you so much for today.” you tell Chris over a late dinner of perfectly cooked steak and béarnaise sauce. You savour it; as much as you love to cook when you get the chance you’ve never made this; you know how hard it is to do right. “Cheering me up, the concert, this dinner, which—you’re right. This is the best steak in the sector. In multiple sectors.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad I took pity on you, too. I would never have gotten tickets otherwise.” He winks, smiling that wide, warm smile. “But seriously. It’s good to make a new friend.”

You nod. “It is.”

“Who is he?” Penny’s hair is back in its usual neat braid, her ship looking… shipshape.

“Excuse me?”

“The guy you took to the concert. Who is he? And did you… you know?”

“I didn’t—”

“We’ve known each other all our lives. I can read between the lines of your cryptic messages. Did you?”

“It wasn’t like that, Penny. He was genuinely just a friend for the day. We didn’t do anything; you know that’s not my style, and I don’t think it was his either. I’ll never see him again, anyway.”

She raises a sceptical brow. “If you say so… But anyway. I have some news. I wanted to tell you in person, but…”

#Christopher Pike x Reader #Christopher Pike x You #Captain Pike x Reader #fanfiction #star trek fanfiction #writings of the girl from outer space #Chanced

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elephant-in-the-pride-parade · 2 years

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ST: Voyager/Sailor Moon crossover: headcanons and things

Most of this whimsy is just @deannalaurend and I going down this crossover rabbit hole... (related posts here, here, and here)

Do Federation and DQ species know about Senshi?

All to some extent. Vulcans and Klingons both have pretty robust Sailor myths and so do a bunch of other species that are warp capable by the 2300s. It’s actually always been a surprise that Earth doesnt have a similar myth in their history. Turns out they do - it’s just only preserved in the form of 20th century Japanese Manga. Naturally Tom Paris, the 20th century geek, has read all the available senshi literature. Some DQ species have similar knowledge. Talaxia has lots of senshi myths. The Ocampans on Susperia’s array retain some knowledge. The Borg have other species knowledge and they are obsessed with finding a way to assimilate a sailor star seed (they’ve thus far failed in all attempts). Things that would happen if KJ got magical girl powers Sailor gadgets: KJ gets her own special transformation combadge (and a magical tricorder and phaser etc). They can do a lot more things than your standard starfleet gadgets. To her extreme frustration, these gadgets only come in glittery, bedazzled, pink. Her replicator now refuses to generate normal, standard issue gadgets. Chakotay thinks this is hilarious. Everyone else does two but he’s the only one who isnt scared of her death glare.

Mr. Tuxedo Mask (or Tuxedo Maquis... we’re not sure what Chak is going to call himself yet) gets his own special transformation combadge. Much to KJs annoyance his is not bright pink. How do the Voyager characters react to KJ?

Seven is very frustrated that KJ cannot explain how she successfully assimilated senshi powers and is most annoyed that KJ does not seem to appreciate them.

Tom is inspired and even designs a holoprogram based on the classic “Sailor V” video games. They are very popular. KJ secretly enjoys it.

The Doctor is very annoyed - he does not have a baseline for how magical girls work and KJ never shows up for her physicals. She makes his job very difficult.

Chakotay just goes all heart eyes for KJ in her senshi form (and just about faints the first time he sees her princess form). He’s gotten some powers of his own out of this strange destiny and he takes it all in stride much better than her. Then again, he’s not the one who needs to be in a pink short skirt to use his powers.

Naomi Wildman thinks having a magical girl destiny is just about the coolest thing ever. She’s determined to also be a captain with a magical girl destiny. Her enthusiasm makes KJ appreciate the whole thing more.

Q is delighted that Kathy has magical girl powers. He has even more fun annoying her about it and telling her all about his run-ins with other Magical girls. (he’s been annoying S. Pluto for thousands of years!)

KJ’s Magical Girl Powers?

Nebula based! Her senshi uniform has a lot of shimmery pink - like stardust. Her attacks involve lots of star dust and gravity effects. She can even destroy her enemies with tiny blackholes, although that power rather terrifies her so she doesnt try that very often. She can manipulate wormholes, but she doesn’t have the ability to create them herself until the ship is almost home. She can teleport but just her own person, though not for lack of trying. As Sailor Delta, she’s the magical protector of the Delta Quadrant, although she’d rather be the protector of pretty much anything else.

#bishoujo senshi sailor moon #star trek voyager #sailor moon x star trek voyager crossover

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thresholdbb · 9 months

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#first cosplay #wip #star trek voyager #not screen accurate #there’s a nebula in that starfleet uniform #there’s coffee in that nebula #captain janeway #cosplay #make bad art or whatever

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fictionandtheatre · 3 years

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Coming soon to Ao3 via the Uhura Bang (@theuhurabang)

[Image description: A promo banner for the Uhura Bang 2021 challenge. The background is purple and blue space nebulas, with red and yellow shading. There is a small drawing of Nyota Uhura in her red uniform in front of a purple Starfleet insignia on the upper right side. The white text reads: The Uhura Bang 2021 Presents: Speaking From the Heart. Author: williamspockspeare, Artist: Im_not_creative_with_names. On July 3”. End of ID]

Speaking From the Heart

Author: @fictionandtheatre

Artist: @ spacecat_scribbles on instagram

Posting Date: July 3rd, 2021

Rating: T

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply.

Genre/Tags: TOS. Chahura (Christine Chapel/Nyota Uhura). Hurt/comfort. Angst with a happy ending. Aliens. Lesbians fluff. Found family dynamics.

Summary: When a group of aliens put Nyota Uhura’s communication ability to the test, she quickly realizes she must reveal things about herself she’s never told anyone before. Will Nyota be able to share her heart with her crew – or are there some things too difficult to speak aloud?

Preview:

Suddenly, everyone on the Bridge slammed their hands over their ears. A horrible sound blared from all corners, and yet from nowhere at all.

Nyota shut her eyes. Oh, the sound was so loud, so overwhelming! It felt like it was coming from inside her head, blasting a hole through her skull. She couldn’t even figure out what it was saying, it was so thick, like a fog.

Wait. It was…saying something?

She felt light-headed, and the sound still pounded against her ears. But it was no longer just a wall of indefinable nothing.

No. It was…

Words.

Slowly, Nyota opened her eyes.

She was no longer on the Enterprise. The room, if it was a room at all, was white, featureless. It was like sitting in an empty void; although she realized with a start that her chair had transported with her.

Words.

All around her, there were just… words. She could see them. Large, colourful words, painting over white space. Some yellow, some purple, pink, blue, red, moving in large swooping cursive, others in tiny detailed font, and more in between.

But they weren’t physical words. That is, they weren’t written on the walls, or hanging from the ceiling. No, they didn’t look two-dimensional, and yet… not exactly three-dimensional either.

Two point five dimensional?

Whatever they were, they were certainly there. And, she realized with a start, they were the same words being said aloud.

What are these mysterious words - and what do they want with Nyota? Find out on July 3rd!

Many thanks to my wonderful artist spacecat_scribbles who drew the banner above, and 5 more incredible pieces, one for every chapter! Seriously could not be happier with our collaboration. And thanks to the Uhura Bang mods for making all of this possible!

#the uhura bang #uhura bang 2021 #fanfiction #star trek #star trek tos #nyota uhura #ao3 #fic preview #my writing #my stuff

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dw-writes · 4 years

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Trektober 2020 - Day 7: Soulmate AU + Interspecies Relationship - Leonard McCoy x Alien!Reader

Ooof thats a long title. This is a little longer than the other fics ive written for trektober, and it’s actually for Day 7 because I missed it yesterday. Based on a uuuuuuh fic that I may or may not eventually write for McCoy later, because I love Asterlites and I’ve done them before for Marvel and never really got to explore what I wanted to do with them on that fic so /shrug

ENJOY

Trektober Day 3 - In Uniform (Bones x Reader) || Trektober Day 4 - Aliens Made Them Do It (Bones x Reader) || Trekober Day 5 - Pining (Bones x Reader) || Trektober Day 6 - Captain’s Chair (Jim Kirk x Reader) || Trektober Day 7 - Soulmate AU + Interspecies Relationship (Bones x Reader) || Trektober Day 9 - Sex Pollen (Jim Kirk x Reader) || Trektober Day 10 - Historical AU (James Kirk and Leonard McCoy) || Trektober Day 11 - Stars (Leonard McCoy x Reader) || Trektober Day 15 - Shuttle Crash (Leonard McCoy x Reader) || Trektober Day 18 - Waiting by Bio Bed (Leonard McCoy x Reader) || Trektober Day 31 - Holiday Celebration (Leonard McCoy x Reader)

You’d always wondered about your starmate mark, always questioned what it meant. Everyone else’s marks were beautiful, lovely things on your planet – intricate swirls of gaseous nebulae and streaks of bright colors reminiscent of the stars that sat in the chests of every Asterlite you knew. They adorned cheeks and crested eyebrows and sprawled over wrists and chests and ribs and the mates of every Asterlite would recognize them in a heartbeat.

Yours, though, yours was different. Your starmate mark outlined the delicate bones of your dominate hand, as though someone had x-rayed it. You often stared at it as you worked, the thin black lines that traced your bones sometimes distracting enough to catch your attention for minutes at a time. No one else recognized it – not during your years in Asterla’s prestigious academies, or during your time interning at the nearby Federation Starbase. By the time you left your home planet to join Starfleet, you had taken to wearing gloves: it hid your odd starmate mark from prying and pitying eyes, at least.

You flew through Starfleet Academy – your knowledge of star systems and interspecies relations helped launch you through courses in both Command and Science tracks. During your second year, the third-year cadets were assigned to starships in an emergency dispatch to Vulcan. The following week, you watched an energy drill pierce the bay outside of Starfleet Academy, and finally learned about the starship Enterprise and it’s new, daring captain.

You vowed that by your fourth year, you would be on that ship.

During your third year, Starfleet archives in London were attacked, and the Enterprise was roped into another adventure that had your heart racing with every detail you heard. The Enterprise was all put destroyed during the interaction with Khan, leaving the crew grounded for months – months during which the funeral for Admiral Pike took place.

You were there, of course, along with every cadet and every member of Starfleet that was in San Francisco at the time. A girl you knew, an officer you had made friends with while the Enterprise was grounded – Uhura – helped you with your dress cap. You fussed at her as she produced a series of Bobbin pins.

“You are not sticking those in my hair!” you hissed at her, scrunching your nose as she forced the cap into place with her hand.

“Hold it there,” she commanded. You pursed your lips but did so. She eyed the gloves you wore – grey, to match the dress uniforms – as she delicately pulled the long points of your ears out from under the cap. “Those aren’t standard issue,” she pointed out. She glanced over her shoulder as someone called her name, another officer from the Enterprise that you recognized – Commander Spock. Your heart raced a little in excitement: he was the First Officer, after all, and if you could get in his good graces, you could get a recommendation onto the ship.

“No,” you finally answered, focusing your eyes on her. Once the hat was secured to your head, and your ears bent unnaturally away from your head, you pulled the cuff of one glove down to show the delicate outline of your wrist. Uhura started to walk as she took your hand, pulling the glove up more and revealing more of your starmate mark. “It’s something everyone on our planet has,” you explained, pulling your hand away. “A mark that my mate would know.”

“It’s beautiful,” she said.

You fixed your glove as you approached Commander Spock, inclining your head towards him out of respect. He returned the nod. Uhura introduced you as the three of you continued your brisk pace towards the crowd.

“I remember you,” he said at the sound of your name, “You’re an excellent student. I imagine there will be captains vying for you to join their crews at the end of your term.”

“I actually want to join the Enterprise,” you blurted. Heat crawled up your face when Spock arched an eyebrow. “It’s been a dream of mine since the Enterprise faced the Romulans during her maiden voyage. A stellar crew deserves a stellar crew mate.” You flapped your hands and gently swatted Uhura’s arm. “I can’t stop talking, Nyota, please—”

She caught your hand and smiled, slowing down as a group of finely dressed men started to approach. “Top of the class in both Command tracks and Science tracks. An excellent negotiator for interspecies relations and a top-notch stellar cartographer,” she said, rattling off your credentials like she had already memorized them. Her smile crew at the approach of a man you instantly recognized. “I’ve already told Jim that if he doesn’t accept the application when it appears in his inbox that someone will jettison him into space in the middle of the night,” she added.

“I hate you,” you whispered.

“You’re welcome,” replied Uhura.

Captain James T. Kirk smiled when he approached, flanked by a man that you had seen a few times in recent weeks. “The academy is willing to wave your fourth year, since you seem to already be taking those classes,” he said when he approached. He held out a hand. “Jim Kirk. Once Uhura told me about you and we got handed the five-year mission, it only made sense to make sure you were on the crew.”

You took his hand with a dry mouth and a nervous smile. “I’ll be sure not to disappoint, sir,” you said.

The man next to him cleared his throat and with a voice that made the warmth in your chest double, said, “It’s starting.”

You were separated from the crew after the ceremony – you needing to finish the required tests for your remaining courses and them being asked to attend the burial of Admiral Pike.

You didn’t seem them again for weeks.

When you did, you were standing in the middle of the bridge leading towards the entrance of the Enterprise, holding your bag over your shoulder, wearing Science blues. Two unbroken gold rings encircled your wrists. Your gloves were black.

Uhura met you as soon as you boarded with a wide smile. “Commander,” she teased, holding out the emblem you’d wear on your chest for the foreseeable future. You took it, fumbling it around as you followed her, trying to pin it into place. “You’ll have to go to the Med Bay for a physical before we leave,” she said as she took your bag. “You’re the last one to arrive, you know.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you said as you jogged to keep up with her excited pace. “I got lost and then when I found it I was just,” you took a deep breath, “Floored. This ship, it’s gorgeous, and I’ve been trying for years to get here, and—”

She stopped you with a hand on your shoulder. “I know,” she said. She squeezed it. “You’re here.” Her smile grew soft and small and she repeated the words so gently that you thought you would cry. “Hurry with your physical. You’ll wanna be on the bridge when we take off.” She lifted your bag. “Then, I’ll show you to your room.”

You nodded and swallowed the lump in your throat. She turned to your right, while you headed left, following the signs down to the Med Bay at the end of the hall. It was bustling with staff that were preparing to leave and other officers and crew members who, like yourself, had been running late.

The man you had seen before, at the funeral, turned when you entered, eyebrow arched as he called your name. You straightened. “You’re late,” he pointed out. He waved to a bio bed, silently ordering you to take a seat.

You complied. “The ship is still docked,” you said with a small, teasing smile, “So, I’m not that late.” You glanced up in time to see him roll his eyes. “It’s Dr. McCoy, right?” you asked.

“That it is,” he said. He frowned at the readings on the bio bed, then said in a softer voice, “Your heart rate is awfully high, darlin’. Nerves?” He stepped in front of you and held out his hands. You set your gloved ones in his palms. “Mind if I take these off? Wanna check your fingers.” He glanced up at your face, “They speak to circulation.”

“Oh.” You tugged on the fingers of your gloves and said, “I have a mark.”

“A mark?” he asked. You tugged your last glove off and held out your hands. He took your dominant hand with an interested, “Huh.”

“They’re—”

“Bones!” called Jim from the entrance of the Med Bay. Dr. McCoy rolled his eyes and turned, his fingers still clasped around your hand. You stared at him, heart thundering in your chest, eyes roaming over the gentle curls of bright colors that peeked over the zipper of his uniform. “We’re ready to go,” said Jim as he approached. He grinned when he spotted you, and added, “You should come up, too. See your first warp.”

“I’m in the middle of something,” pointed out McCoy – Bones.

Bones.

The name echoed in your head and you stared at the bones on your skin.

“You can do finish it when we’re on the way,” Jim said, slapping his hand against McCoy’s shoulder before turning and leaving. “I’ll hold the Lift for you!”

Bones turned to you with an annoyed sound, glancing down at your hand still held in his. “We’ll need to continue this later, darlin’.” He smoothed his thumb over the detailed lines of your knuckles.

“That’s fine,” you whispered, “I don’t mind.” As he looked up and met your gaze, you got the feeling that he didn’t mind too much, either.

#trektober 2020 #star trek #leonard mccoy #leonard mccoy x reader #leonard bones mccoy #leonard bones mccoy x reader #star trek aos

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spockvarietyhour · 4 years

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Select Starfleet Ships, Vol. 3: DS9 Edition

Top to bottom: Miranda-class U.S.S. Saratoga “Emissary” Excelsior-class U.S.S. Melbourne “Emissary” Nebula-class U.S.S. Bellerophon & Ambassador-class U.S.S. Yamaguchi “Emissary” Oberth-class U.S.S. Cochrane “Emissary” Nebula-class U.S.S. Prometheus “Second Sight″ Galaxy-class U.S.S. Odyssey “The Jem’Hadar” Excelsior-class U.S.S. Lakota “Paradise Lost” Excelsior-class U.S.S. Malinche “For the Uniform” Miranda-class U.S.S. Sitak “Sacrifice of Angels” Miranda-class U.S.S. Majestic “Sacrifice of Angels”

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not-freyja · 4 years

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2019 T’hy’la Fics of the Year

According to Kudos on Ao3. In the Interest of fairness, winners of previous years were excluded.

1. And Then I Let It Go by kianspo

Post-Star Trek Beyond. The crew of the Enterprise gets a breather while they are waiting for their new ship. Jim uses the time to do something he had sworn he would never do.

2. Vulcans are Fangirls Too by jouissant

Kirk is a secret astrophysics genius who publishes under a pseudonym; Spock sends him fanmail. Shenanigans ensue.

Less fluffy than the title might imply, but a feel-good story nonetheless.

3. This Is How You Remind Me by kianspo

Jim invites Spock to his high school reunion for moral support.

4. Take This Sinking Boat (And Point It Home) by sinestrated

In which Spock pines, Jim isn’t stupid (except he kind of is), and Christopher Pike has had enough of this bullshit.

5. Something Smart to Do by kianspo

In which Jim finds himself fake-married to his first officer every other month. It's not his fault. Mostly. Dowries and Klingons are involved. Starfleet is decidedly not amused.

6. cast out fear by s0mmerspr0ssen

Kirk saves Vulcan from Nero at high cost to himself. It falls to Spock to pick up the pieces.

7. The Lotus Eaters by aldora89

Stranded on the planet Sigma Nox while searching for a missing away team, Spock and Kirk find themselves pitted against a disturbing native life form. With the captain out of commission on a regular basis and Spock struggling to preserve his stoicism, staying alive is difficult enough – but when a slim chance for escape surfaces, their resolve is truly put to the test. Together they must fight for survival in the heart of an alien jungle, and in the process, uncover the mystery of the planet’s past.

8. The Handmaid of Genius by ladyblahblah

When the replicators go offline, Jim reacts unexpectedly.

9. Asymptote by tahariel

Anticipation was not an emotion Spock had intended to allow himself to feel; yet, it made itself known despite him, and that it was never satisfied made it harder to suppress, each time the Captain walked past or stood near and conscientiously avoided even the brush of their sleeves.

10. AT THE SAME STARS by spicyshimmy

First Officer Spock of the USS Enterprise is part of the away team that discovers the survivors of Tarsus IV. Captain Pike assigns him to the curious case of James Tiberius Kirk, who steals one of Spock's sweaters. There were no sufficient Vulcan poetics to describe the emptiness of the colony as it was found on the morning of stardate 2249.43. The fully-completed residential sector was neither ugly nor beautiful but simply remote; a hollow landscape of metal alloys and sensible architecture, with determined vegetation growing alongside the support beams. They did not flower.

11. Measure of Happiness by writeonclara

When Spock chose Starfleet over the Vulcan Science Academy, he had not anticipated cohabiting with the most illogical, irrational, emotional human he ever met.

On the flip side, Jim never asked for a Vulcan chaperone, especially one as snotty as Spock, son of Sarek.

A Starfleet Academy AU in which Spock adapts to human life, Jim learns very, very quickly never to play a prank on a Vulcan, and there are far too many people after Jim Kirk's life.

12. Hurricane by sinestrated

Five times Winona Kirk was a badass mom, and one time she realized she’d raised an equally badass son.

13. The Third Wheel by littlebirdtold

Academy AU. In which Cadet Kirk constantly crashes Cadet Uhura's dates with Commander Spock and monopolizes his attention.

14. A Logical Match by walkandtalk

The elders of New Vulcan decide to resurrect an ancient custom, and suddenly Jim must help find his First Officer an honorable Vulcan husband.

15. You Lied by ksalterego

Spock bought into that whole stupid Vulcan practice of being secretive about shit (sexual practices) that had the potential to fucking kill him. So Kirk may have lied - well, implied, actually - to get into Spock's pants save Spock's life.

16. So Much for Gravity by Regann

The last thing Jim wants is telepathic proof that Spock hates him, even though that's exactly what he gets. It's just one more thing Jim needs to figure out on his bumpy road to a destiny he doesn't even know if he believes in.

17. not once but always by estelares

The Day Jim Kirk Died And Was Revived is also, perhaps more famously, remembered as The Day Spock Lost His Proverbial Marbles and nearly killed a superhuman who had fucking regenerative blood, for crying out loud.

18. My Golden Sun / Kin-Kur Las’hark T’nash-Veh by giddytf2

When Jim feels the first gush of slick soaking down the inner seam of his pants, he shuts his eyes and turns his face away from Spock towards the mottled-stone wall of their solitary cell. Spock is staring at him. Spock has no idea what's just happened, what's just begun. Spock has no idea that their situation is about to get so much worse.

Fuck, Jim thinks, curling up into a ball of bruises and ragged gold, his arms quivering and clutching his bent legs. Fuck my life for being a goddamn Omega.

(Or, a Star Trek: AOS story post-Into Darkness in a universe where both Alpha/Beta/Omega gender dynamics and pon'farr exist, with Jim being an Omega going into heat and Spock experiencing his first pon'farr while trapped in a cell with Jim. Oh my.

19. THE SUM OF BOTH OF US by spicyshimmy

Jim Kirk is nine when a massacre on Tarsus IV leaves him without a family and without a home. Spock is twelve when a strange boy in the desert saves his sehlat. Families aren't born; they're made. The look in mother’s eyes at his correction remained a mystery long after the colors of the night sky and the complex patterns of distant nebulae had become translatable by means of distinct and relatively straightforward equations.

20. Leave No Soul Behind by whochick

If you're Starfleet, you spend your whole life wishing you never see an EPAS uniform right up until the moment they become your only hope. Whether you're dying a slow, cold death in space, or a long painful one on some godforsaken planet, they're going to come for you. So count your last breaths, son, and hold on tight. They leave no soul behind.

#fic rec #top 20 #t'hy'la #spirk #spirk fic #space husbands

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shadowtoherlight · 3 years

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Hi hi hi Trek fam. ‘Specially my J/C peeps. Lemme just briefly describe my dream last night. 😊

You know how you’re just suddenly somewhere. So I’m suddenly at a space station. Walking with someone else in a green/blue shirt. Hustlin and bustlin starts happening. Me and Starfleet Colleague hustle over to the operations center, where everyone is hella frantic, most especially one Captain Chakotay, who’s giving orders like they’re the only thing stopping him from falling into an abyss. Suddenly an intrepid-class vessel comes legitimately barrel-rolling out of the nebula we’re perched on and then floats, dead in the water… er, space. The frantic-ness halts, Ops is silent as a grave. I’m panicking without a sound because that tumble did NOT look good. Captain Chakotay asks about crew status in a voice that sounds like he’s forgotten how to breathe. The man damn near collapses against a console when someone says all 187 biosignatures are accounted for. Me, Starfleet Colleague, and Another Starfleet Colleague are ordered to follow the Captain to Transporter Room B. We been over to the ship, and of course Janeway is behind the transport console. Wearing yellow, which was very odd, but evidently she was not Captain of this ship. But Y’all when I say she and Chakotay SPRINTED to each other, I’m talking idk how they didn’t split atoms. The most beautiful beautiful, adoring, emotional display ensues. Many tears. I’m crying, the two commanders in front of me are crying as they kiss, my Starfleet Colleagues are awkwardly shuffling their feet lmao. AND THEN. AND. THEN. Janeway gasps, turns around, and yells “Taya!! Taya, come here!”

FOLKS. I glimpse this tiny child in a red and black little Starfleet-uniform-esque dress, and I’m telling you, my soul left this realm and passed BEYOND the next one, into a space where all things are nothing and nothing is all things. So. Little girl peeks out from behind the transport controls, then runs to mommy’s legs and giggles as she looks up at daddy (because it is beyond obvious that this is Chakotay’s child, Like, idk how, but my subconscious did a damn good job with casting) for the first time. Chakotay looks like he’s just died and gone to paradise. Janeway is crying again while she’s smiling and watching him kneel down and say his daughter’s name in the softest, gentlest tone you’ve ever heard. And this child just BARRELS into her father, so enthusiastically that she almost knocks him over. Chakotay is just so obviously over the moon, sun, and every Star as he hugs little Taya. Happiest man in the universe. At this point Janeway looks up and had clearly forgotten the three of us other Young Starfleet’s that had arrived with Captain Chakotay, if the look of surprise on her face is anything to go by. She straightens up a little and swipes at her face, then asks what exactly had happened. Chakotay stands up holding Taya, who’s resting her head on daddy’s shoulder, and he nods at me, so I tell Janeway that they had been trapped in a Dark Cloud Nebula for 2 years, which was evidently the nebula the station was perched on. The station could see the ship, but couldn’t communicate, couldn’t get biosigns or transport capabilities, nothing. Basically they were swimming around in a very large fish bowl. Apparently every time we tried to send a ship in after the No Name Intrepid Class, it bounced off the edge of the nebula. So for two years we just watched No Name Intrepid Class swing around and around this nebula with no way out. Janeway said that every time they reached the edge of the nebula they would bounce off of it no matter what they tried. The Void 2.0, basically. Except nobody knows what got them out. Janeway said they just suddenly lost helm control and were tearing towards the edge of the nebula and somehow broke through it. Chakotay looks at Janeway and says “you skipped your pre-boarding physical, didn’t you?” which, of course she looks sheepish because of course she did and IF SHE HADN’T MAYBE SHE WOULD HAVE KNOWN SHE WAS PREGO SAUCE AND AT LEAST TOLD HER HUSBAND. And maybe she wouldn’t have ended up in the Dark Cloud Nebula because maybe she would have wanted to do some prenatal scans or whatnot before going on an exploratory mission that we apparently knew was going to be a bit risky. But let’s be real, being pregnant would never stop Janeway.

So that’s mostly what I remember. The important stuff, obviously. When I woke up, I was thinking “why does the name Taya sound so familiar?“ And then I was like oh. That’s the feminine form of Chakotay, from the episode where everyone is giving B’elanna baby name suggestions. And I just want to give my subconscious a round of applause for recalling that minuscule detail that I never would have remembered otherwise.

#Is this a “voy watch with shadow?#eh yall apparently like my rants so I’m gonna tag it anyways #voy watch with shadow #Star Trek Voyager #st: voy #Janeway x Chakotay #j/c #dream watch with shadow #Captain Janeway #Chakotay #also why is the gappage between text blocks so wide. y’all I have no idea how to work this site forgive me

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