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Old November 28 2009, 05:03 PM   #1
thew40
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Trek Short Stories and Ficlets

So I'm now firmly engrossed in Trek fanfiction. Among some of the longer stories I have cooking right now, I've got a few short stories and smaller "ficlets" that I'd like to start posting. Those will go here, in this thread.

A lot of these are inspired by prompts from the Fanfiction 100 challenge. I don't plan on doing all 100, but these are great starting points. I've completed three of them and have two more on the way.

So, away we go . . .

--------

Title: "A Good Start"
Series: Miscellaneous
Rating: PG
Prompt: Beginnings

Out of the dark despair of the world . . . out of the horrors of war and woe . . . the Phoenix flew into the sky with a tail of flames. The rocket pushed out from the Earth and warped away and back. With a few switches and a scientific theory come to life, Zephram Cochrane changed the world.


The Phoenix came down a mile where it launched from – on a privately owned airstrip that no one before today had heard of. Cochrane rode back to his camp, all the while his phone ringing with calls from the nearly defunct NASA, who were in turn fielding calls from the New United Nations and the various decaying space programs of the world. Cochrane unlocked something that day – something that would allow humanity to venture further and the universe. If there was any value in it, of course.


And then things changed even more.


NASA reported something in-coming to Cochrane’s base camp. An object that no one could recognize. It was a ship. An alien ship.


From this ship emerged a human-looking man with pointed ears. Zephram Cochrane was there to meet him.


Everything changed now. The world that took itself to the brink of destruction would very quickly rise above all its past downfalls. The potential that this moment was extravagant and it would be achieved someday. But it wasn’t something that Zephram had in mind as the man and his companions followed him into the bar.


Zephram, while finding himself changed after such events, needed something to take the edge off. He pulled a bottle off the shelf and placed it in front of the man who called himself a Vulcan.


“Jack Daniels,” Cochrane said with a smile. He poured himself a shot, the looked up at the Vulcan. The man made a judging expression which made Cochrane feel very uncomfortable. He glanced around the packed bar, all eyes on him, like the world itself was watching. “To take the edge off. I – I’ve had a pretty crazy day.”


The Vulcan looked towards his companions, then nodded in a slow manner. “I understand. First warp flight and first contact with an alien species can come across as a very . . . crazy event.”


Cochrane chuckled a little and fired back the shot. He extended his bottle to the Vulcan. “You want a shot? It’s kinda tradition . . .”


The Vulcan took the bottle in his hands, examined it, and turned to his female companion. She took out a small device (an act that elicited a spooked response from some of the crowd) and waved it over the bottle. She nodded and handed it back.


“Alcohol,” she said to him with a knowing look.


“You guys have booze in space?” asked one of the on-lookers. “They look like they know what it is.”


Cochrane glanced that person’s way to shut them up. The Vulcan across from him laid his palms flat on the table. “We do not normally partake in these beverages. However, being as this is first contact between our two peoples, I believe I will on this occasion. It is, as you said, tradition.”


A shot was poured and the Vulcan fired it back. Zephram had never seen someone take a shot so well. He might as well have just fired back a shot of water!


“So what’s your name?”


“L’Meo,” he responded. “My associates are Limon and Tuss.”


“You don’t look very alien,” said one of the crowd. “Just they got those Elf ears on!”


L’Meo looked his way. “I assure you, we are who we say we are.”


“Then why is it you’re speaking English so well?”


Zephram leaned forward in his chair. “Man’s got a point. I was wondering that myself.” To be honest, Zephram wasn’t doubting it as much as he was just plain curious about it. Aliens arriving and talking like humans was something out of a sci-fi movie. Their ship alone made them alien, but otherwise, they did look perfectly human (save for the ears) and well, with the English-speaking part . . .


“We have a device called a universal translator. It is programmed to understand and translate other species dialects. Before we landed, we scanned your broadcasts and the universal translator was able to make sense of your language rather quickly.”


Zephram nodded a little. “So . . . what about being able to speak our language back to us?”


L’Meo took in a deep breath and was about to respond, when, instead, Tuss interrupted. “It is a very complex device. It would be best to wait until another day,” she responded.


Good enough for me, Zephram thought to himself.


“You said other species,” Lily stated. “You mean . . . we aren’t alone out here? I mean, we’re obviously not now, but . . .”


“Our section of the galaxy is abundant in both humanoid and non-humanoid life-forms,” Limon answered.


“You are not alone in this galaxy,” L’Meo summed up.


Lily turned to Zephram, then back at the Vulcan. “Some men from our government are on their way. They want to meet you. Talk to you.”


“Of course. We hope this is but the beginning,” L’Meo said.


“How far away are they?” Zephram asked Lily.


“The governor will be here in about an hour. Everyone else . . . I guess not long after that.”


Zephram rose out of his chair. “You guys want to hear some classics?”


The Vulcan all looked at each other with uncertainty. Zephram turned on the juke box, the bar filling with music. The Vulcans leapt to their feet. Lily grabbed Zephram by the shoulder.


“Ears!” she shouted at him. “It’s too loud!”


Zephram wildly entertained expression faded into understanding. He turned off the music.


“Sorry.”


“It is . . . fine.”


At that moment, a trio of helicopters flew overhead. The same device that Tuss had used to scan the alcohol was out again. “Life-signs moving in.”


“Military,” spat Lily.


“Is an armed conflict coming? Are we unwanted here?”


“Not at all,” Zephram answered just as a jeep pulled up.


An older man exited, built and big, with a balding gray scalp and in cammies. He sauntered into the bar with two soldiers by his side.


“Captain Harry Loebwitz, Montana National Guard. Please do not be alarmed, my men are simply securing the area.” His eyes were dashing between the Vulcans, their craft, and the Phoenix. “We mean you no harm.”


“Likewise, Captain,” L’Meo answered. “Greetings.” He raised his hand in the traditional Vulcan salute. “Live long and prosper.”


The captain looked confounded by this and turned his head to Cochrane. “It’s their way of saying ‘hi,’” he said, raising his hand and trying once more to get his fingers to work that way. When he had trouble, Lily stepped in and raised her hand in such a way.


“I see,” Loebwitz responded. “Governor’s on his way and Washington is flying in Lawrence Strong. Y’know, the ambassador who helped negotiate the peace treaty and all that . . .”


“Yeah, I know who he is,” Cochrane replied thickly.


Loebwitz looked at both the Vulcans and Cochrane and smirked a little. “Well, this is really the beginning of something, ain’t it?”
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Old November 30 2009, 09:29 PM   #2
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Re: Trek Short Stories and Ficlets

Catchy piece. I like the rhythm.
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Old December 7 2009, 07:08 PM   #3
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Re: Trek Short Stories and Ficlets

Title: "Lost"
Series: The Next Generation
Rating: PG
Prompt: Middles

I'm not completely satisfied with this, but it's mainly my attempt to show the crew of the Enterprise-D as lost. It takes place right in the middle of their time together -- after the destruction of the E-D and before the launch of the Enterprise-E. Like I said, I'm not completely satisfied, but you guys might like it. Or not.


France, Earth


Jean-Luc arrived at the edge of the estate, still in uniform and very much alone. He stared out at the grapevines, the wind swaying them back and forth. He looked immediately for the house that he grew up in . . . and instead found the charred remains standing out into the sky above the field. He didn’t want to see this, didn’t want to go there and feel even worse than he already did.


But he did anyways.


Standing about mid-way between the road and old house was Marie, who looked up at Jean-Luc and made an effort to smile. She didn’t say anything as she embraced her brother-in-law and kissed him on the cheeks.


“How are you holding up?” she asked.


“Fine,” Jean-Luc answered with nothing else to say.


Marie tried again to smile. “Oh Jean-Luc, you’re almost as bad a liar as your brother used to be.”


Jean-Luc sighed a little and looked to the house. “So. There it is.”


“Yes. I . . . wanted your permission to rebuild it. Maybe finally install a replicator.”


Jean-Luc grinned at this and was over-whelmed with Marie’s ambition. “Of course,” he said to her, putting his hand on her shoulder. “It would be perfect. Even with the replicator.”


Marie really did smile the time, but it devolved into tears and she began sobbing. Jean-Luc swept her into his arms and held her as she cried. He withheld his own emotions for a time, but couldn’t stop the small tears from rolling down his cheeks.


Deep Space Nine, Bajoran Space


Commander Riker strode across the promenade, hands folded behind his back, Deanna by his side. They walked in silence, Will’s thoughts distant from Deanna. But she didn’t need to read them to know what he was thinking. He was thinking about Thomas, his transporter-duplicate, who was now in some Cardassian prisoner camp. Possibly dead.


Will found himself disturbed by this concept – but was only slightly more concerned about what Starfleet Intelligence was asking him to do. Starfleet wanted an officer planted into the Maquis in an effort to spy on them. Not everyone in the Maquis knew about Thomas’ capture; Will had to contact the Maquis cell leader and basically speak for this new recruit.


After the events involving the Pegasus, Riker felt like he had enough of Starfleet Intelligence for one lifetime. And he didn’t needed another holodeck recreation of the old NX-01 to help push him in a direction. He had no choice now.


“Will,” said Deanna then, “I’m going to Betazed after this. Would you care to join me?”


Will perked an eyebrow at her. “I . . . I’m not sure. Why not take Worf with you?”


“Oh, uh, well things have cooled off with Worf. Plus he’s busy visiting Alexander.” She paused briefly. “It’s like we’re all going home. The Captain, Beverly, and Worf are all back on Earth. I’m going to Betazed. What about you?”


Will took in a deep breath. “I don’t know, really. Alaska doesn’t hold much for me, but I’m not sure if I’m for spending the rest of my leave with your mother.”


Deanna smiled amusedly. “I don’t like that much either, but she misses me. And you.”


Will rolled his eyes, but allowed Deanna’s smile to infect him. “I see. Well . . . we’ll see.”


Deanna nodded. “Have you heard from Geordi or Data?”


“They arrived at the Daystorm Institute a few days ago. As far as I know, they’ve made some progress with adapting Data’s emotion chip with his neural net. Doctor Maddox is supposed to be joining them.”


“I recommended Data also see a counselor in regards to controlling his emotions,” Deanna said. “I think it’s important to have him come to grips with them so he can continue his journey.”


Will sighed a little. “Speaking of coming to grips . . . where are we going?”


“To the Ferengi bar, don’t you remember?”


“No, I mean . . .” He stopped in place and turned to her. “Where are we going? All of us? The Enterprise has been destroyed, everyone is on leave and I’m here on this station posing as - ” He stopped himself, knowing that blurting out his top-secret mission would be a disaster. “I just want to know what we’re going to do now.”


“I’m certain they’ll be another Enterprise.”


“Right, but am I going to be on it? Are you? Is Worf or Data or Geordi going to be on it?”


She put her hands on his chest reassuringly. “Will, whatever happens . . . happens. If there’s another Enterprise, then there’s another Enterprise. If I’m on it or you, it doesn’t matter. If we’re going to be on the bridge, then that’s where we’ll be. If not, then . . .”


“Then what?”


“Then it’s where we’re supposed to be.”


Will took in another deep breath. “I guess.” He looked to the bar. “Let’s get a drink.”


“Okay.” She followed him through the busy bar to a table. “Who is it you’re supposed to be contacting again?”


“His name is Chakotay.”


Russia, Earth


There was only one other time that Worf came home and Helena marked a change in the boy she had raised. That was years ago, when Worf returned from the Empire after going through the Rite of Ascension. He was changed during that journey. Worf had gained a firsthand look at the Klingon culture and understood what it meant to truly be Klingon . . . while at the same time, was rejected by his cousins for his obvious human taint. But Worf also had a determination that Helena knew he lacked before – he was going to enter Starfleet.


Now Worf had returned from deep space and was again, a changed man. Maybe it was because she had only rarely had a chance to see him on the Enterprise, but now that the ship was gone and his tenure there was over, she was able to regard the marked transformation in him. He was more quiet than ever and certainly distant. He was heartbroken, distracted, and lost.


The door swung open as Helena was making dinner. Worf walked in first, followed by Sergey and Alexander.


“Ah, you’re home!” she laughed. “How was the trip?”


The three of them had spent the weekend in the Ural Mountains. It was Sergey’s idea, hoping that it would help get Worf to open up. Helena agreed, but had her doubts. Worf wasn’t known for opening up – not even to his parents.


The dinner ate their dinner, Sergey and Alexander telling stories from their camping trip, with Worf adding minor details here and there.



Shortly after dinner, there was a knock at the door. Sergey hoisted himself up from the table and answered.


The voice of the person at the door was recognizable to Worf. He stood up from his chair and walked into the living room, face-to-face with Jeremy Astor.


While the pair had kept up a correspondence over the years, these letters and communiqués became less and less over time as Jeremy grew older. Worf felt a surge of pride as Jeremy told him about his desire to enter Starfleet. Worf said he would help him as much as he could.


They spoke at length for a while, Jeremy asking about the Enterprise and what Worf was going to do now. Worf paused when Jeremy asked this and took a heavy gust of air. He looked to Alexander, who had been quietly listening to the entire discussion. Alexander was now looking at his father anxiously.


Worf grunted a little bit. “I do not know.”


Department of Engineering and Science, Daystorm Institute


Doctor Leah Brahms called Geordi into her office, surprisingly happy to him. She had to admit, even after their first encounter had gone, she had grown an affection for him. Aware of his crush, however, she wasn’t about to tell that – nor that her divorce had just been finalized.


“Good to see you again, Geordi,” she greeted warmly.


“You too, Leah.”


“How’s Data?”


“Doing well. They’ve just finished replacing the connections to his emotion chip and will be reinstalling it in a few hours.”


“Good to hear.” She smirked at him. “I have some news for you.”


“Oh? What’s that?”


“I suppose I should wait for Starfleet Command to let you know, but . . . I can’t help myself.” She pulled out a large PADD from behind her desk and sat it before her. She turned it on, displaying schematics. “We were just approved this morning to begin construction on the second Sovereign-Class starship.”


Geordi leaned forward and took a good look at it. He looked up at her curiously. “Leah . . . is this . . . ?”


Her smirk turned into a full-force smile. “The Enterprise-E.”
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Old December 8 2009, 09:44 PM   #4
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Re: Trek Short Stories and Ficlets

How do you find these little visited spaces in the lore? I like it.
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Old December 17 2009, 06:33 AM   #5
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Re: Trek Short Stories and Ficlets

Wow...both great stories...I especially like "Lost". Look forward to reading more.
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Old December 19 2009, 12:14 AM   #6
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Re: Trek Short Stories and Ficlets

Mistral wrote: View Post
How do you find these little visited spaces in the lore?
I see them in nearly every episode or movie, and even in some of the novels where you'd think you wouldn't, but I've never been able to put together a story that holds up for even these short spans of time and word count.

Kudos to theJollyW for actually doing it.
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Old January 11 2010, 05:12 AM   #7
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Re: Trek Short Stories and Ficlets

Title: "Moyo"
Series: Star Trek – The Original Series
Rating: PG
Notes: This story takes place immediately after the events of “The Changeling.”

Spock had a dream.
He stood on the bridge of the Enterprise, staring forward into the viewscreen, the vastness of space sprawling before him. There was a cackle of static in the air, like subspace radio. Shadows moved in front of navigation. They shifted left and right, left and right, just shadows on the walls.
Spock walked around the chair and saw them clearly. Nomad hovered before Uhura; her face was that of pure horror. The static rose to a crescendo, blaring into his ears. Spock blinked in pain . . . and then it went silent. Uhura’s face was blank, mouth opened, eyes inattentive, arms dangling.
And then she looked to him and screamed.

***

Captain’s Log – Stardate 3542.2
Enterprise currently in orbit of Malurian homeworld, alongside the USS Mayflower and USS Excalibur and three cargo vessels in hopes of finding survivors of the attack by Nomad. Currently, all Malurian ships are returning to their homeworld at maximum to help in rebuilding the civilization. Unfortunately, there’s not much to rebuild . . .

“Considering the way our people made first contact, I feel your role in the death of what did this makes up for that.”
Kirk forced a smile at the Malurian before him. Garth’nar sighed and looked out across the decimated remains of the city. “I was a student in history, Captain. Going to be a man of the law. And now . . . ? They’re talking about making me a governor. Just because I was spared this . . . this . . .”
He waved his hand outward. “Four billion dead and I . . . I . . .”
Kirk put his hand on the Malurian’s shoulder. “You are needed. You’re a man who survived this to gather your fellow survivors. You need to stand tall, Garth’nar.”
Garth’nar smirked just a little. “Thank you, Captain.”
Kirk stepped away from the man and pulled out his communicator. “Kirk to Enterprise, one to beam up.”

The captain rematerialized on the Enterprise and found Bones waiting for him next to the transporter console. The look of severe worry the doctor wore told him the situation at hand. On top of losing four security officers and almost losing Scotty, there was Uhura’s current condition. Nomad had wiped out all the information in her mind, reducing her to something like a child. While her re-education had been going well, accessing her memories had proven . . . difficult.
“What is it, Bones?”
“It’s Uhura.”
“I assumed as much. What about her?”
Bones groaned a little and led the captain out of the transporter room. “I don’t know what happened exactly, but . . . she’s completely regressed. We had her reading and writing again, but all of a sudden, she just shut down. Completely catatonic.”
Kirk shook his head. “Just how is that possible, Bones? You told me she would be back at her station in a week.”
“I was wrong, Jim. The more she started to pick up, the more we believed that her memories and her knowledge were still there, just below the surface. But now . . . it’s like Nomad attacked her all over again.”
The doors to sickbay slid open and Jim followed the doctor to Uhura’s room. Nurse Chapel was standing inside, along with Mr. Spock.
“Captain.”
“Spock? What’s wrong?”
“The Doctor has advised me of Lieutenant Uhura’s condition. I thought perhaps I could help.”
Kirk looked between McCoy and Spock. “How? A mind meld?”
“Exactly.”
McCoy crossed his arms and gave Spock a skeptical look. “And just how is that Vulcan mumbo-jumbo going to help Uhura?”
Spock walked up to Uhura’s body and looked down at her. “When I made contact with Nomad, I could sense Uhura’s memories within the vast knowledge Nomad had gathered. It was vague and unfocused, but it was there. I believe I can use what I came in contact with to coax her out of this state.”
McCoy tossed his arms out. “Well . . . I suppose it’s better than nothing.”
Kirk sat down. Chapel glanced at Doctor McCoy, who walked across from Spock over Uhura.
Spock pressed his hands together and closed his eyes, focusing his thoughts and energy. Then, slowly, he reached out and put his fingers in position on Uhura’s face.
“Your thoughts . . . to my thoughts . . . your mind . . . to my mind . . .”

***

Spock was falling into the darkness. And then there was no falling. There was no up. No down. No where to move, to where to turn. This was Uhura’s mind . . . empty and blank . . . a starless void . . .
He probed deeper. Spock found himself facing a tangled web. By merely contacting this, it vibrated with memories and knowledge gained in just the past few days and hours. Her re-education with Nurse Chapel, along with her examinations by Doctor McCoy. But with all these, he felt a certain . . . apprehension.
Spock found a string. A singular thread that dove deep back into the darkness of her mind. He gripped this string and felt nothing but fear. It overrode his own barriers – the fear was infectious and Spock was tempted to withdraw . . . save for the dream of Uhura’s screams.
He slid down this string, following it deeper and deeper and deeper still into her mind.
Tethered to the end of this string was the bridge of the Enterprise.
His mind registered the deck plating beneath him and he understood that this was key to everything that was wrong with her. As in his dream, there was the roar of subspace radio static. He turned to the communications station – it was the only station active. Spock walked over and touched it. Immediately, he knew that the information that Nomad had absorbed was still here, in Uhura’s mind. All it required was a spark to light it back up.
“NO!”
Spock turned on his heel and saw Uhura standing where the captain’s chair should have been.
“Lieutenant . . .”
“Nyota. My name is Nyota.”
Spock nodded. “Yes, it is. Nyota, I can help you.”
“I don’t want your help, Mr. Spock.”
“And just why is that?”
She blinked slowly. “Do I really have to tell you?”
The viewscreen clicked on. All monitors clicked on. On the viewscreen was the sharp image of Nomad. Spock looked around the bridge and saw the other monitors displaying the many threats the Enterprise had encountered. The Romulans, the Klingons, spores, the Denevan parasites, the Doomsday Machine, Charlie Evans . . .
Spock turned to her.
“Fear.”
She glared at him. “I can’t go back.”
Spock stepped up to her. “Nyota . . . the Enterprise needs you.”
“I will not go back!”
Red alert sirens screeched alongside the static. Spock felt as they were sinking deeper into her mind. He reached out to her.
“Lieutenant!”
“LEAVE ME ALONE! I will not go back to the Enterprise!”
“I understand your fear.”
“How could you? You’re not human!”
“Half of me is, Nyota. You know this. You recognize this. Unlike the doctor, however, you have frequently embraced my duality. I appreciate that – and our friendship.”
“Spock, leave me be . . .”
He touched her shoulder.
They stood now on Vulcan, near the grounds of his father. Shi’kahr was in the horizon and moon hung in the air. He looked up at, then looked back down at Uhura.
“Vulcan has no moon, Nyota. You know this.”
She closed her eyes. They were back on the bridge.
“I can not go back . . .”
“Why?”
“I am afraid.”
“Nomad harmed you. Greater than any other.”
“Yes, Spock, yes.”
Spock nodded. “You joined Starfleet to understand the cosmos, did you not? To see the relationship between the peoples of different worlds, to come to terms with the cultures in the galaxy. That was why you agreed to this.”
Uhura looked away. “How . . . how did you know that?”
Spock walked right up next to her. “A part of you is with me. A part I would like to give back you.”
Uhura closed her eyes. “I . . .”
“You are brave, Nyota. Among the most brave officers I have served with. I will not let you succumb to this simple defeat.”
“Spock . . .”
He put his hands on her shoulders. “No, Lieutenant. You are strong. You are brave. Rise up, Nyota.”
Slowly, she opened her eyes and took his hand. She led him over to the communications station and opened hailing frequencies. Spock felt his mind touch hers intensely, the part of him that had touched Nomad – and Uhura within Nomad – was poured into the Uhura’s mental communications station.
The red alert klaxons halted.
The static cleared.
The stations on the illusionary bridge snapped on, the images of foes replaced with the visual wonders of space. He looked to her and saw knowledge and bravery dawning in her eyes.
“Very brave of you, Lieutenant.”
“Brave,” she repeated. “Moyo.”
“Moyo, yes,” Spock replied, being the Swahili word for ‘brave.’
She smiled at him. “Hailing frequencies open, Mr. Spock. Lieutenant Nyota Uhura reporting for duty.”

***

Spock’s fingers released from her face and he stood up.
“Aren’t you going to do something, Spock? You melded for about three seconds,” McCoy grumbled.
“Oh, but he has, Doctor.” Uhura was sitting up-right. “I’m me again. Thank you, Spock.” She kissed him sweetly on the cheek.
Kirk walked over, glowing at his restored officer. “Feeling better, Lieutenant?”
“Absolutely, Captain,” she replied. “Thanks to Mr. Spock.”
“Just doing my duty, Lieutenant.”
“I’d like to get a complete neural and synaptic work-up,” McCoy said to both Uhura and Chapel, “but already, I think I can release you today.”
Kirk patted her on the shoulder. “Take it easy for a few days, Lieutenant.”
“Yes sir.”
As Chapel prepped the equipment for a deep neural scan, Spock, Bones, and Kirk made for the door.
“Oh, Mr. Spock . . .” Uhura said, raising her hand for him.
“Yes?”
“Thank you again.”
Spock nodded a little. “You are welcome, Lieutenant.”
Kirk grinned at his science officer. “Are you blushing, Commander?”
“Why, I do think I see a little green in his cheeks,” Bones followed up.
Spock shook his head evenly. “You are both incorrect. Vulcans don’t blush.”
Kirk slapped him on the back and followed Spock out into the corridor.
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Old January 11 2010, 09:46 PM   #8
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Re: Trek Short Stories and Ficlets

Wow, I usually hate the mental-swirly-psychedelic type scenes but that was great.
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