Story [Star Trek 2009] "every star to move", UDC VI - Week 20 up on 10/06!

Jade_eyes: A more perfect tune she could be humming, I would not begin to imagine. I am glad you enjoyed these, Deb!

Nat: Aww thanks. It was fun trying to tie them together like that, and I am glad the style worked out.


Now, to play a little more catch-up . . . (And, a thanks to Maser_Jay for creating the character of Audrey Pearce, because sometimes that girl can be a lifesaver to the muse. )

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[blockquote][b]Week XIII[/b]: [i]?if you could be my slow and steady?[/i][/blockquote]


[b]LXI. Toys[/b]

Sometimes, having a Captain who thought the [i]Enterprise[/i] to be a toy ship, and the people aboard toy soldiers worked out for the worse rather than the better. While Christine Chapel could imagine serving under no other, she knew there were times when his CMO could be downright tired of using paste and tape to make the toy soldiers marching worthy once more.

Softly, Christine poked at McCoy's shoulder ? determined that if she couldn't get him to go back to his cabin, then at the very least she could get him to sleep in one of the biobeds rather than at his desk.



[b]LXII. Bugs[/b]

Deep south born and bred, McCoy really didn't mind bugs. But still, the nasty specimens on Rahn Oog were rather . . . large . . . and squishy upon the forest floor after Jim Kirk was done with them.

Christine glared at the carcass that her boots had slipped on. [i]A curse upon your family[/i], her glare said, and McCoy almost laughed at the way the fierce scowl wrinkled her nose. Instead, he reached out to help steady her, ?Careful, there darlin',? he drawled, and her smile flickered ? like sunshine on a creek ? before she wrapped her small fingers around his.



[b]LXIII. Monsters[/b]

Sometimes, Nyota still dreamed of Serillious. She dreamed of a mind composed of millions, and herself lost in the mountains, in the mists, unable to escape; unable to flee. Unable to [i]breathe[/i].

She awakened with her breath high in her throat, smothering her; her fingers forming claws in the bedsheets. Out of reflex, she would move a few inches to the right, not even completely awake, but seeking out the heat of [i]him[/i] as his mind wrapped around hers ? soothing. Her fingers unclenched, and instead moved to over the pulse of him ? warm and steady until she could sleep once more.



[b]LXIV. Heroes[/b]

?Your husband died a hero, ma'am.?

The words were spoken with pity ? with sympathy. Winona hated that tone; hated the words even more. She wanted nothing of the title of hero ? the lives saved and the day won. She had wanted to be greedy ? she wanted to hold the child in her womb for just a little while longer, storm the bridge and hold her husband, and demand that the universe provide them a crack to slip through. Just one corner to shadow them.

But now she has a fatherless boy, and the mantra of [i]hero[/i] an awful and ripping thing upon her tongue.



[b]LXV. Rats[/b]

Her first shore leave after . . . knowing, Audrey Pearce slipped down an aisle of baby products. She was still queasy ? a thousand futures terrifying her. Her . . . Kirk . . . a [i]family[/i].

Holding a can of mashed baby food, she made a face at the formless matter within. After all - she wouldn't feed that to a [i]rat[/i], let alone her child thankyouverymuch, and the ferocity of the thought stunned her ? made her curl a hand over her stomach as her breath caught in her lungs ? battle ready.

Yes . . . she was having this baby, and the Gods help anyone who ever tried to harm what was hers.



[b]~MJ[/b] [face_rose]

 

earlybird: Why, thank-you.

Deb: Well, Monsters was all your fault in the first place with your 'Dreams' ficlet. And yes, I do channel the Mara Jade muse when I steal Audrey, that is for sure! Even down to the blue eyed farmboy . . .

Nat: Why thank-you. The rats one was my favorite one to write.

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[blockquote][b]Week XIV[/b]: [i]?I could have swam to the current of that tide?[/i][/blockquote]



[b]LXVI. Rebirth[/b]
[i](UDC I. Week Nine. Prompt 41.)[/i]

It was night on the [i]Enterprise[/i], and the twin tumblers between him and Bones were long since emptied of their bourbon once, and then twice again.

And Kirk broke the silence by saying: ?I think that I may have liked his life.?

He imagined he would have liked his mother's eyes minus their weight, and his past straight and steady instead of a winding road that had somehow dropped him here. He'd like, someday, to [i]just maybe[/i] find that man in himself, reflected.

McCoy merely snorted, and said, ?I don't see much of a difference there, myself, kid.?



[b]LXVII. Destiny[/b]
[i](UDC II. Week Twenty. Prompt 96.)[/i]

?She's really taken a liking to you.?

Spock raised a brow at her words, but did not move to correct her. In his hands, the kitten that he had been holding purred contentedly, butting her head against his fingers in order to seek more caresses. Nyota smiled at the easy way he indulged her.

?She does seem content,? Spock said. ?And I am not adverse to her company.?

?I think she's adorable,? Nyota came out with the words Spock couldn't quite say.

Spock exhaled ? feline and Vulcan, but he made no move to answer her ? whether to agree or disagree.



[b]LXVIII. Glass[/b]
[i](UDC III. Week Five. Prompt 24.)[/i]

There was a powerful explosion of Sardel VII from a toxic mixtures of heated gasses. The rockface blew apart, and the cut of it was like glass. While McCoy was able to see to those injured, Spock had a small scar on the top of his wrist that would remain the rest of his life.

Kirk looked at him oddly as he pulled the sleeve of his uniform down.

?Captain?? Spock inquired as to the look.

?It's nothing,? Kirk tried to smile, brushing his thoughts away. ?But . . . the older you ? the other you . . . he had that exact same scar.?



[b]LXIX. Resolved[/b]
[i](UDC IV. Week 15. Prompt 74)[/i]

After their first mission, Kirk finally told his mother about the spin of time they were living in.

Winona's eyes were heavy afterwords with memories Kirk could not share. He tried to imagine a family, real and complete, but found it a hard thing - even with the understanding he had worked to build with his mother in the last few years.

And then, Winona surprised him by whispering, ?I bet she was as proud of you as I am,? like she was letting go of a great secret. And inside, Kirk felt something long healing finally close over.



[b]LXX. Other[/b]
[i](UDC V. Week 2. Prompt 9)[/i]

She and Spock make their home on Vulcan II easily enough. Their home came together ? a seed on a planet of growing things, a new haven found.

Nyota was hanging up curtains when Selek came to visit.?You had curtains quite like these in my time,? he remarked, fondly. ?I did not care for them then, either.?

?Spock didn't say he didn't like them,? she returned, smiling.

?No, I do not believe he would have,? Selek agreed, his old eyes far away; but there was a lightness there ? forging over new bonds where he had only known those of old.



[b]~MJ[/b] [face_rose]

 

Jade_eyes: I think that his cat was more of a head fanon for me based on this scene here. Spock and a cat just works. I had a lot of fun playing with time in this one - in more ways than one.

Master_Jay: Oh, Audrey is a blast to write! Thank-you for creating such an amazing character to play with.


And some more catch-up from me . . .

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[blockquote] [b]Week XV[/b]: [i]"your waves and vices completed in the sky"[/i][/blockquote]


[b]LXXI. Avarice[/b]

Spock wondered if this was a form of greed, this wanting.

Once a week, he would sit down for precisely thirty minutes and share with T'Pring. While he did not dislike speaking with her, there was nothing particularly outstanding in her conversation ? he enjoyed the shape of her features, the sound of her voice ? but he did not crave them. He did not thrive upon them. Their bond whispered, when he would see it scream.

If his mind put forth another face ? another voice, then he was one to linger 7.16 seconds longer than appropriate on the thought before dismissing it.



[b]LXXII. Envy[/b]

Nyota Uhura knows that this was a form of envy.

In a moment of weakness she had searched T'Pring on the holonet. To her surprise she had found a gifted astrobontanist ? and quite a lovely woman at that, seemingly spun from marble and ebony, and just as cold to match. Almost unwillingly, she imagined cool fingers and cool skin and a cold caress, empty but for a link at their minds ? a silver cord where Nyota imagined that such a thing should be a river of flame ? like star fire, eternal.

On the monitor, T'Pring's empty eyes mocked her thoughts.



[b]LXXIII. Gluttony[/b]

Gaila Falen-raz was no stranger to the more carnal arts of life. Many ? human and ignorant ? would call her greedy, a whore. But she was not bought, and she selected the men she entertained in her bed ? the spectrum of colors that kept her psyche whole and thriving.

Kirk was different than most. He was an empty place to her senses ? so white hot and gold, like a star burning itself out, unsure of where to shed her light. And she could handle the heat of him ? the whole of him, until he found a place in the night sky.



[b]LXXIV. Lust[/b]

He was distracted, more often than not, T'Pring knows.

Spock was still attentive ? polite and sincere, but his mind was far from hers, and lost upon something else ? someone else. All she could glean from him was a warm pair of human eyes, and an emotion so bright and fervid that it burned. Admiration ? desire, such an intense passion that baffled her. For a long moment she held the feeling close ? examined it, and found she could not explain it. Could not explain the burning in her throat and the stiffness to her breath. Eventually, she no longer tried.



[b]LXXV. Pride[/b]

James T. Kirk was no stranger to pride ? to arrogance. Indeed, he embraced it, courted it until he knew the whole of the vice like his own skin.

And sometimes, such rashness left those next to him bruised as he struck out to save them all.

?One of these days, your arrogance is going to kill us all,? Nyota said softly from her vigil post at the Vulcan's biobed. Her eyes were shadowed. ?But for now . . . I am thankful for you pulling us out alive ? once more.?

Burning, Kirk felt the weight of expectation even more than his pride.



[b]~MJ[/b] [face_rose]

 

Jade_eyes: Oh yes, Kirk's arrogance grows and matures as does the rest of him. And I knew you'd have a blast with the rest of them@ Gaila is always a fun character to write, and T'Pring was an interesting route to explore without resorting to bashing (while fun. ). There's such a difference between writing her and Nyota.

brodie: It is good to see you here! And no apologies are needed - these are here for you to enjoy whenever and wherever. And that being said, thank-you for the thoughtful recaps! I really enjoyed reading every word of them.

Nat: Yep, Selek is Spock Prime. It gets a little foggy when writing to constantly have to say 'the other Spock' or 'the older Spock.' We're going to give the guy a complex. And yeah, that set was an insane amount of fun to write - playing with time always is. Some things will never change with time, I fear - and google stalking is one of them.

Master_Jay: I think that T'Pring has a role and it is played - and that role is definitely to show how rich and rewarding a bond with Nyota could be. At least, in my very biased shipper view. As always, thank-you for dropping in, and thank goodness for internet connections!


~MJ

 

Author's Notes: In the interest of catching up, I have two weeks for the price of one here.

Enjoy!

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[blockquote][b]Week XVI[/b]:[i] ?and fists were closed tight over words?[/i][/blockquote]



[b]LXXVI. Pow![/b]

The first time Nyota punched a boy, she had been six years old, striking in response to a rude word (children's games, children's taunts) about her sister.

Afua had ran home with tears in his eyes, and Nyota had stood proudly in the middle of the path, holding her bloody knuckles. Later, she had murmured a sheepish explanation to Akilah, and suffered through the lecture in return. (The power of words, spoken over struck.)

But still, after her mother had left, her father had hugged her close, and conspiratorially showed her how to throw a proper punch without damaging her own fingers.



[b]LXXVII. Bang![/b]

While her major was spoken tongues, every cadet in Starfleet learned the basic of self defense and simple combat.

Nyota practiced her routines in the steady dim of the early morning gym. And, one morning, Professor Spock stopped her, a critical eye on her posture that caused an odd heat to flush through her ? adding to the sweat which already beaded on her brow.

?Cadet, if I may ? You may find a slight adjustment here,? hands, whisper soft at the small of her back, forming her posture into something he approved of. ?And here,? a pressure at her elbow, ?will improve your effectiveness exponentially.?



[b]LXXVIII. Boom![/b]

?That doesn't sound like a good noise, Mister Scott.?

?That noise is suppos'd to sound that way, Captain!? Scotty was quick to assure, making a quick and urgent gesture to Keenser as a coolant line violently released steam into the air. The smaller officer rolled his eyes, but nonetheless scrambled to do as told.

Fire rocked the great ship around him. In the depths of the engineering deck, another crash sounded - a counterpoint to the hissing steam.

He rolled his eyes heavenwards, and cursed Sulu's evasive piloting.

?And that, Mister Scott??

?I swear I can fix that too!?



[b]LXXIX. Zap![/b]

?You cheated!?

Kirk stared with his mouth open at the screen, not believing when the code before him spelled out his defeat. Since his first day as Captain, he had made it a goal to beat his pilot in the flight simulators ? and their well meant rivalry had become well known the whole ship round.

He shook his hair out of his helmet as if it had been actually mused, his eyes narrowed crossly.

And Sulu only smirked. ?Do you really think that you are the only one who can reprogram a simulated test to turn the odds in their favor??



[b]LXXX. Pop![/b]

Onboard the [i]Enterprise[/i], exercise routines and combat instruction continued on as it did at the Academy. And really, Nyota reflected, it was a meeting of true minds ? Spock showed Kirk and Sulu the physical routines of Suus Mahna, if not the spiritual, and Sulu demonstrated swordsmanship. Often, their combat sessions drew many onlookers.

While Nyota was able to keep her own interest professionally veiled (smooth white muscles, like wind on the snow), at her side, Audrey Pearce was much more open and vocal about her approval . . . that was, right before she joined in to show the guys how it was [i]really[/i] done.




[hr]


[blockquote][b]Week XVII[/b]: [i]?and starlight gives hope a fine path to follow?[/i][/blockquote]



[b]LXXXI. Inception[/b]

In the beginning there was a ship.

She had been dreams and ideals forged into bolts, and molten iron poured into molds with starlight and space bright travels in mind. For so long she had been held down to the Earth as the men scrambled around her ? giving form to her ribs and a ripple to her skin.

And yet, it was not until she took to flying that first time when she was given her pulse ? her breath and lungs. The ether of her star.

In the end there was a man, and to him, the [i]Enterprise[/i] was everything.



[b]LXXXII. Babe[/b]

He escaped with his life, but

 

Jade_eyes: As always your enthusiasm is catching and a blast to read! It's great to have it bad when it is done so in pairs.

Nat: I didn't realize that it was that much of a 'that's what she said' moment until you pointed it out. Oi. As always, thanks for the wonderful breakdown, I enjoyed reading your thoughts.

earlybird: Why thank-you.

brodiew: Thank-you! I agree, Nyota is a beautiful character, and it really is a blast and joy to write her.

Master_Jay: Girl power for the win! Yep, after the drabbles die down I will definitely need a new outlet for the Star Trek muse. I was thinking of a viggie series for any and all of the characters . . .



~MJ

 

For Week 18, I am experimenting with the idea of telling a story backwards. Feel free to tell me whether or not the style is too off, or if it works for you - I am kind of intrigued. And then, this week was totally prompted by Master_Jay's latest set of drabbles, and I am plot stealing shamelessly. They were made of brilliance, and if you haven't read them, you should. Like now.


Only two more weeks to go after that.

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[blockquote] [b]Week XVIII[/b]: [i]we hung our dreams on the very stars[/i][/blockquote]


[b]LXXXVI. Direct[/b]

James T. Kirk held the stare of George Kirk like a reflection.

Few that Christopher Pike knew, had such a direct gaze ? cloudless and clear, like a winter sky after a storm. George had had that same simple stare ? but his was an open honesty, unused to seconds and feints and the darker seams of life. James ? Jim, he preferred ? had the sharp gaze cut of one who knew the cruel side of the universe's blade.

But in both, there was that wanderlust ? reflecting the stars - and it was that that truly drew Pike and spurred his challenge on.



[b]LXXXVII. Produce[/b]

?You're leaving??

Winona's voice came soft and clipped to her son, dropped from her mouth like rainwater from a weeping roof. It was only time, she had always known, before her star straying eyes took George's wandering feet off upon her son's body. Jim was a restless soul, and she had long since given up claim upon his path.

Jim's nod was slow, as if waiting to hear her blessing ? any word from her. But Winona had only her silence.

And then he turned, his shadow black against the starlight as he walked the path that had took everything from her.



[b]LXXXVIII. Perform[/b]

?You're leaving again??

The voice of the little boy in the door of her room was very soft, as hesitant as the wind ruffling over a sleeping field. Winona stilled upon hearing it, her hands pausing in where she was tucking her uniform into her traveling case.

?I'll be back soon, Jimmy,? she said without looking at the boy. ?Just this last tour.? One last walk amongst the stars, where she hoped to loose herself in memory and starshine. Maybe then she could purge her heart of its melancholy.

Jim looked dubious, but took her parting embrace with his small arms trembling.



[b]LXXXIX. Edit[/b]

?And you, Mrs. Kirk, how are you doing since the last time we talked??

[i]Miss[/i], she can read the correction in the psychiatrist's eyes. Winona had corrected her in that first session, and had not allowed the woman to call her by any other title since.

She had to stop herself from thinking of George in the present tense, she still knew. Just earlier with Pike at headquarters, she had said: ?My husband, he is . . .? and stopped herself, tongue twisting on her slip. ?He [i]was[/i] . . . Once was. No more.?

And so she answered: ?As well as can be expected,? and left it at that.



[b]XC. Distribute[/b]

?The prototypes for the Constitution class ships were released today. Did you happen to see them? They were a thing of beauty,? Christopher Pike, three years behind George and Winona spoke of the future of Starfleet as he would a lover ? wondrous and enthralled.

Sprawled in the grass, eyes tangling with the night sky, George shrugged at his friend's words. ?I don't much care for the boat they stick me on ? just give me the stars.? He turned to his fiancée. ?And you, of course.?

Winona answered his easy affection with a smile, pressing closer to him, and claiming his warmth as her own.



[b]~MJ[/b] [face_rose]