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 . . .
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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?”
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?”
