#【 ❝ to boldly go where no one's gone before ❞ 】 ✕ star trek / au.

[misanthropologymajor]

to boldly go...

this is so based on my current tng watch and crippling addiction to cod fanfic of all things

Science Officer!f! Reader x Bridge Crew! 141

Star Trek: TNG AU (pt. 1?)

Human! Price- Captain of the Enterprise 

Human!Gaz- helmsman/operations officer (liutenant)

Klingon!Ghost- security-officer-turned-first-officer (lieutenant commander)

Betazoid!Soap- new security officer (lieutenant)

Half Vulcan!Reader- sciences officer (lieutenant junior-grade), [giving them various nicknames because (y/n) feels clunky]

wc: 4k

warnings: rearrangement of rank (Starfleet doesn't have enlisted officers & the equivalent ranks would not be bridge officers), reader is the youngest but the other ages aren't mentioned, abduction, Ghost was raised by humans in a Worf-analogue-situation, (Ghost's parents were killed in a Romulan attack), slowburn, no smut, written before i started playing mwii

Space: the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise. Its continuing mission: to explore strange new worlds; to seek out new life and new civilizations; to boldly go where no one has gone before!

As the turbo-lift doors opened, the familiar sounds of the Bridge Crew's squabbles filled the ears of the newest Chief Science Officer.

"Cap', 're you sure that MacTavish can actually read the Ferengi from this distance? I wouldn't put it past 'im to just wanna stir sumthin' up."

"Ghost, ye know damn well I wouldn' lie abou' somethin' like that."

Quietly walking to her station behind the caption's chair, the half-Vulcan began scanning the readings of the Ferengi ship. The Ferengi ship was peculiarly small and old-fashioned- at least a century old.

"Gaz, can you take us closer? One third Impulse, please." At Gaz's affirmation, Captain Price stood from his chair and walked towards the monitor at the front of the bridge. "Junior-grade, how many life signs can you read."

She startled, looking up from the inlaid monitor. "Only two, sir. It's a small ship, though there should be room for around thirty crew." Her gaze followed Price's to the front monitor, where she saw the short loop of Ferengi video broadcast. Both Ferengi men's large ears and prominent brow ridges glistened with sweat.

Gaz looked up from his controls. "Captain, the broadcast isn't coming from this ship."

"The distress beacon is, though. And the ship is definitely Ferengi." Ghost looked over Soap's shoulder to the security console.

"Price, be careful. We're getting close to the neutral zone." Gaz indicated to his monitor.

Price returned to the captain's seat, centered in the bridge. "Soap, keep scanning for other vessels. Ghost, hail the Ferengi ship."

"Price, they aren't receiving our hailing frequencies."

"Is anyone else thinking of Earthen anglerfish right about now?" the half-Vulcan mumbled. Then, louder- "They're down to just one life sign, Captain Price."

"They don' have shields up, Cap'n," Soap called from the security station. "I don't feel anything from the ship, either."

“Ghost, prepare an away team and get some protective gear. We’ll keep track and be ready to beam you back, but we need to know what’s happenin’ with that ship.”

“Gaz an’ the kid with me. Go get a compact medikit in case there’re any survivors, an' Gaz can tell us why it may 'ave stopped.”

As Gaz stood from his chair, the science officer rushed towards the turbo-lift, heading briskly down to the medbay. Swiftly getting the required supplies, she headed towards the transporter room, meeting with Gaz and Ghost.

"Three to beam to the co-ords Soap sent down." Ghost led the trio to the transporter bay, phaser in hand.

As they faded into shimmering white light, all three prepared themselves for the unknown of a seemingly empty Ferengi shuttle on the border of the Neutral Zone.

Following the briefest moment, they came back into awareness. Ghost was the first to reach full cognizance, the other two shortly following. The most immediately apparent thing was that the ship had not been abandoned by normal means. The cockpit was in disarray, and a trail of a mixture of unknown substances ended abruptly in the doorway.

At Ghost's indication of safety, the Vulcan activated the scientific tricorder to scan the trail. As the analysis loaded, she noted from the corner of their eye that both Gaz and Ghost tensed. Ghost's mask made the sudden lack of motion vividly unsettling. The tricorder loaded with a small chirp, indicating the presence of Ferengi and Romulan DNA. Abruptly, the shuttle lit up.

The ship began moving closer to the Neutral Zone. Soap's voice echoed from their communicators, "Wha' the hell are ye doin'? The Neutral Zone is right fuckin' there!"

"We're not trying to, Soap. I'm looking at the controls now." Gaz rushed to the lit-up console.

"Ghost, there's evidence Romulans here. We should get out of here, sir."

As the First Officer acknowledged the Science Officer, more words echoed from their communicator badges.

"Transport to away team, we've lost your location. There's some sort of interference." Tensions became palpable as the situation quickly devolved. Gaz frantically tried to turn the ship back towards the Enterprise. Ghost and the scientist worked on figuring out what left a Ferengi shuttle lost at the edge of the Neutral Zone.

Price's voice echoed through the ship, "Hold on, Away Team, reeling you in with our tractor beam." The ship jolted with the connection of the tractor beam, easing back towards Federation Territory.

Gaz began hitting the console, clearly frustrated by the lack of response from the equipment. "Ghost an' Cap, this shuttle isn't bein' controlled by this panel. This has gotta be a trap."

As two Humans, a Betazoid, a Klingon, and a half-Vulcan attempted to return the away team to the Enterprise, they were faced with a Romulan Warbird removing its cloaking device directly next to the Ferengi shuttle.

The Ferengi Shuttle was swiftly drawn in by the Warbird's tractor beam, half the distance from and twice the size of the Enterprise.

The science officer tapped the communicator on: "Sirs, this is not standard Romulan battle practices. Deception, yes, but blatant disregard for the Algeron Treaty? In just about two hundred years of conflict, they've never done anything like this."

"When did you become an expert on Romulan politics, Junior-grade?"

"Not the time, Garrick," Ghost aimed his phaser at the door between the away team and the interior of the Romulan ship. The other two quickly followed suit.

As the interior of the Ferengi ship dimmed, the shuttle bay door of the Romulan Warbird opened up. The ship slowed into the bay, and the environmental system hissed. Gaz was the first to feel it, and Ghost was the last.

As Ghost fought to keep his eyes open, he heard the half-Vulcan mutter about "anesthizine."

Gaz woke in a cell, his phaser and communicator on the manned desk beyond the forcefields. A few cells across the circular brig, he could see the Ferengi from the broadcast in a shared cell, and to their right was Ghost. "Ghost, can you hear me? Are you able to see any way out?"

"Damn Romulans cuffed me an' took my fuckin' mask. The door out of the cells is to your left, the kid's to your right."

"I can hear you, Ghost," she frowned. "They have our comms and phasers, and there's no way they've kept us in Federation Territory. Cap's gonna need to get approval from Admiral Laswell to follow us."

"Soap won't like that," Gaz said, standing from the cot to get a better view of the space. "Junior-grade, you said this wasn't normal for Romulans. Do you think we're working with an extremist group?"

"Definitely. I was awake when they were cuffing Ghost. They weren't in standard issue Romulan Star Empire Uniforms, and there's some wacky mods to this Warbird."

Ghost cut in, "At least they wan' us alive. We'd be long gone if they didn't think we could do sumthin' for 'em."

"'Specially with their views on Klingons and Vulcans. Nasty blokes."

"Thanks for reminding us, Gaz." She pressed her hand to the force field, searching for the weak point she knew wasn't there. As they searched, the brig doors opened with a hiss.

Three Romulans walked in, bearing phaser rifles. The centered one spoke: "I had hoped the Federation would be stupid enough to send a ship into our territory. Imagine my delight when that little ship sends me some a Klivan, a Hevam, and a Yyiyao wrapped in a nice little bow." (Romulan derogatory terms for Klingon, Human, Vulcan)

"Oh, what a shock: the Rihansu is racist. Where the hell are we?" (Vulcan [and Romulan] for Romulan)

"Hold your tongue, Yyiyao. I haven't killed you yet, but my mercy has limits. You don't even know why you're here yet!"

"Who the hell are you?" Ghost stood up abruptly, startling the non-speaking Romulans.

"Now, the Klivan is asking the right question! Who am I? And why would I capture two Feh'rengsu, a Kilvan, a Hevam, and a Yyiyao?

They call me Commander Makarov, and I will free my people from the barriers of the Neutral Zone and the Federation altogether."

"And you think that will happen by kidnapping a First Officer, Flight Control Officer, and a Science Officer?" Gaz sat on the cot in the corner.

"I'm not that foolish. You're nothing more than bait, tempting your precious Federation into breaking its own rules."

"You can't seriously think our Captain is stupid enough to follow us withou' givin' proper notice?" Ghost questioned.

"Oh, Klivan. He's already following us," Makarov grinned.

"I still don't get why you're tellin' us this." Gaz laid further into the cot.

"Either he's gloating or he's trying to get something out of us, be that intel or our charming personalities." The half-Vulcan wrung her hands, silently pleading for the Enterprise to be careful and give the correct notice.

The Ferengi began tittering with each other, briefly pulling the attention from the Starfleet officers.

"You three were victims of circumstance. But these two-" Makarov sneered. "These two will not try to swindle the sword of the Romulan Empire again."

Makarov's men turned off the barrier to the Ferengi cell. Each grabbed one Ferengi man and dragged them out of the brig. Makarov left the brig, questions hanging in the air.

"What a total dick."

"Thought you were supposed to be too logical for needless profanity."

"My Vulcan father lost the debate that determined what planet I was raised on. Before the Acadamy, I went to an Earthen public school, Gaz."

"Fuckin' hell you two, not the time," Ghost chastised. "Gotta work out what that bastard wants from us."

"Could be they want to kickstart a war against the Federation, relations have been easing in the past few-" Gaz cut himself off as the doors opened.

Makarov stepped through into the brig. "How lucky was I to have Captain Jonathan Price's crew, led by the Ghost, stumble on the ship I hadn't gotten around to destroying yet."

"What've the Captain or I got to do with you?"

"Don't tell me you don't remember us, Klivan! Not after our grand impact on your childhood."

Ghost closed his eyes and took a deep breath, setting his jaw.

"Now you remember me. I'll fill your underlings in. I was just an Uhlan, aboard the Perseus. A Klingon traitor sent us the codes to Khitomer's security system. Your Ghost was the only survivor."

Ghost's history was not frequently discussed on the ship, but his presence as a Klingon in Starfleet command made it clear that his life was full of unusual circumstances.

"And on top of that, your Captain is the one who convinced my previous Commander, that ryakna, to abandon the honor of our great Empire."

"The Cap's peace negotiations under Laswell? Not letting another Federation ship blow you all up for your secret base in the Neutral Zone? That's what this is about?" Gaz looked incredulous.

"He should have defended the great Romulan Empire! Why should we listen to rules set by your Federation." Makarov sneered. "The might of our great fleet could have destroyed all the Federation sent after us."

As Makarov continued on about the power of the Romulan Empire, the science officer tuned out. She focused instead on attempting to work out a method for contacting Captain Price from what was likely at least an astronomical unit away. She'd already ruled out the possibility of accessing their communicator unit, cobbling a communicator out of their tricorder, and breaching access on the communicator of the Warbird.

"But what sweet revenge, taking the sole Klivan survivor and two other crew from that peacenik, your Captain Price. How poetic that you will start the empirical expansion my people have been deprived of. I will return for you when your Federation breaks their own rules."

As Makarov left the brig, a quiet tension fell over the officers.

Gaz was the first to break the silence. "Do you think the Cap would be mad enough to follow after without getting Laswell up to speed?"

"Will the Romulan contacts deem this an acceptable reaction from Price in the case that he is this mad?" They buried their face in their hands.

"It doesn't matter what Price does, so long as we get the fuck off this damn ship."

"Ghost, what he said about your parents-"

"Doesn't matter."

"I know it doesn't, but I just want you to know you're allowed to be angry about this even if you don't remember it."

"Interesting take, coming from the Vulcan," Gaz interrupted.

"Half Vulcan. Born and raised on Earth."

"Neither of you are helpin'. Migh' as well just wait for Price 'f you're gonna keep gettin' distracted." Ghost pressed his hands against the force field of his cell. As each officer sought out their cells' unlikely flaws, they listened for any sounds around them.

After what could have been anywhere between ten minutes and an hour of searching, a set of footsteps approached them.

"Your Captain has demanded proof of life from us. Your scientist is coming with me." A Romulan with a jagged scar running down his face entered the brig. He approached the center cell and bound their hands, escorting them out of the brig.

The half-Vulcan yanked her arm from the Romulan's hold. "I can walk myself." She then ignored Gaz's protests, hoping that they were unnecessary.

Following a long walk, she was escorted onto a dark bridge. The Enterprise Bridge was displayed on the large monitor in front of the room. Price was in his Captain's chair, Soap above and behind him at the security panel. Both sets of eyes gently lightened at their Junior-grade, visibly unharmed and still slightly fighting their escort.

"See, Captain, unharmed. The other two are in the same condition, but I couldn't just release all of them, you see." Makarov brushed his hand across her face, earning three sets of glares.

"Lieutenant, are you, Gaz, and Ghost okay?" Price ignored Makarov's assurance.

Before she could begin her sentence, Makarov grasped her by her chin. As she wrenched herself from his hands, he spoke. "You've seen she's alive. My patience wears thin."

Even with the distance, she could see Soap's knuckles grip his console. "We're not followin' ye into the fuckin' Neutral Zone without word from her. S'bad enough ye didn' let our First Officer up."

"When I got grabbed to come up, Gaz and Ghost were okay. I wouldn't trust-" Makarov's hand clamped over her mouth, cutting her off. She had to fight the urge to bite the bastard.

"I didn't bring her up here to give away all of my surprises. Return her to the brig." Makarov looked over his shoulder to the scarred Romulan, who had brought her up.

She fought damn near the entire way back down, leading to another Romulan joining her escort. While she knew it would be fruitless, doing nothing felt more wrong. She felt like she'd wasted any opportunity to formulate a plan with the Captain, and hadn't fought against their captor enough to be respectable. Would Soap judge her, or, worse, would Price?

She shook the thought from her mind just as she returned to the brig. They moved her to the cell previously occupied by the Ferengi, where she was now unable to see Ghost and considerably farther from Gaz. They left her hands bound, and one sat at the guard station.

Unwilling to risk giving intel to the guard, all three sat in relative silence once she confirmed that Price had been in contact.

Gaz was humming an old Earthen song she couldn't quite place. Every so often, she would sigh dramatically. Ghost was the only one to remain entirely silent.

After about an hour, the guard received three trays at the door and delivered one to each occupied cell. Each tray contained an unappetizing green biscuit and a small cup of a grey drink. She and Gaz each took a half-hearted bite; Ghost refused to even look at the tray.

The half-Vulcan stood from the tray without taking a second bite. Instead, she chose to lay in the cot and nap—what was the worst that could happen?

It seemed that the worst that could happen was the ship going into a red alert, their guard leaving them trapped as he went to a battle station. The emergency lights flashed, and she could understand almost every other word of a Romulan emergency alert.

The alert seemed to indicate that they were under attack not by the Federation but by another Romulan vessel. She rubbed her bleary eyes and stood up.

"Just our luck— someone's attacking, and it's not Price." She smacked at the force field holding her in the cell. She could hear Ghost attacking his barrier as well and could see Gaz beginning to do the same.

"How do you know it's not Cap?" Gaz paused his attack.

"The emergency alert specified something about a T'liss, a bird-of-prey. They'd have said ih'calear if they'd translated the Enterprise's class."

"Since when do you know Romulan?" Ghost's voice echoed from the cell to her right.

"It's really not too far of a leap from Vuhlkansu, Commander. I took a couple classes in it at the Academy."

The alarm continued to go off, and the half-Vulcan did her best not to fret. From the size difference alone, a bird-of-prey against a warbird shouldn't have even been a blip in the radar. She strained to hear about a d'deridex, another warbird, but the alert kept repeating that the combat was against a T'liss class vessel.

What would a separate Romulan general do if one found them in this brig? Would they seek to continue the relative peace with the Federation by releasing them back to the Enterprise, or would they decide that the three weren't worth their lives and kill them, or worse, send them to a Romulan prison?

"Junior-grade, I can feel you worrying through the damn wall. Price or Laswell'll come, stop your fuckin' panickin'." She snapped out of her anxious spiral, mumbling a bit of gratitude to her commanding officer.

It took nearly an hour before the alert stopped its loop. It took a further forty minutes for anyone to check the brig. None of them expected the familiar Romulan to be the one to walk through the door, followed by their previous guard.

"Nikolai, you were the bird-of-prey?" Gaz beamed. The negotiations between Nikolai, Price, and Laswell predated the half-Vulcan's time as a bridge officer, but she had seen him on the screen, briefly, as she'd taken some data from the bridge.

"Best ship I could get with little notice from Laswell. Heard my old sublieutenant was causing issues."

"Thought you'd finally gotten out of military work, Nik. How'd you get even a lil' thing like that?"

"I have friends everywhere, Ghost."

The scarred guard reluctantly opened each cell door and unbound the wrists of the Klingon and the half-Vulcan. Ghost didn't respond, but she rubbed her wrists before introducing herself to Nikolai. Ghost grabbed all of the confiscated equipment, taking it for his crew.

"Good to meet you. Let's get you all back to the Enterprise, where you belong." He escorted the trio to the vehicle bay, where a bird-of-prey waited. Nikolai took control of the ship and navigated it towards the Federation edge of the Neutral Zone.

"Why would Makarov release us to you?" The half-Vulcan couldn't keep from questioning.

"The daeus would never have approved of Makarov's methods. The only way his plan worked was if it flew under the radar that he had blatantly disregarded the treaty in a way that was so obvious to the Federation." Ghost cut in for Nikolai.

"Basically. Definitely helped that after I retired from military, I started working for a Senator who wants peace with your Federation."

The return to the border of the Neutral Zone felt much shorter despite taking nearly twice the time. They flew with easy conversations with Nikolai, who admonished any crew who even thought about engaging in distasteful behavior towards their guests.

As they neared the Enterprise, Gaz couldn't convince Nikolai to come aboard and visit with Price. While Ghost stayed out of the enticement, the science officer leaned on and encouraged Gaz.

"We've done enough stretching of Algeron Treaty. Your Enterprise nearly got a light-year in to the Neutral Zone before getting the sense to contact me."

The trio gave Nikolai their fond farewells, and Soap came over their communicators to organize their transport onto the Enterprise. After they shimmered onto the transporter pad, Soap and Price ushered all three to the medical bay.

After being medically cleared and cleaning up, the bridge crew sat down for dinner in the Captain's quarters. Price had yet to emerge with his contribution to the otherwise replicated meal.

"How did you know to get Nikolai involved?" Gaz sat across from Soap.

"Mate, d'you ken that Vulcans are telepathically inclined? Our scientist thought so loudly abou' Makarov's plan that I could hear it from the Enterprise. Turned our ass around and Laswell got in contact with Nik." Soap leaned to his left and ruffled her hair.

Pointed ears warming, she pushed Soap's hand away. "MacTavish, maybe you've just got massive range on your crazy Betazoid telepathy."

Soap persisted, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "Hen, I'd have heard the Lt. or Gaz if it was just that. You were loud an' clear from a light year away."

Price's door opened to the Captain, holding three bottles of wine. "I thought we all deserved somethin' a little stronger than synthehol after the shit we dealt with."

Ghost nodded from his position across from the half-Vulcan as Price took his seat between them at the head of the table. Price opened the wines, handing them out to each officer to fill their cup with their selected beverage.

The bridge crew ate with light chatter, deliberately avoiding the topic of the overly-Empirical Commander. There would be plenty of time to discuss the ambitious Romulan in the coming days.

The half-Vulcan struggled to ignore the touchy nature of the Betazoid to her left and the Captain's comforting touches on her hand. She focused on her meal and the First Officer across from her, not wanting the Betazoid to sense her flushed discomfort.

Ghost had never fully removed his mask in front of her before. She tried not to think about how ruggedly attractive he was, letting loose with his friends and her. Was she a friend now? Her line of thinking left her confused and slightly flustered, though she hoped it indicated that he at least thought of her as a friend. "Junior-grade, you've picked your drink up and sat it back down without taking a sip three times now. You can relax, luvvie."

Never in a million years would she have anticipated the First Officer using a pet name for her. She could have sworn her pointed ears were so warm that they were steaming, a flush spreading across her entire head. She choked on the sip she took to hide her embarrassment.

Soap patted her back to help her cough as Gaz gently admonished Ghost. "Our girl doesn't need that shit from you, Ghost." Ghost just laughed, seemingly in on the joke.

A stern "Boys!" from Price seemed to end the joke that the half-Vulcan was trapped outside of. The other three sat up straighter for the briefest of moments, playing into a joke.

After a more collective evening of conversation, the bridge crew each returned to their quarters. The half-Vulcan donned her sleep clothes and lay in bed, questioning the day's events. Her thoughts drifted between her Romulan abduction, the unaccounted-for Ferengi, and the dinner—what had Price meant when he called her "their girl?"

As the day drifted out, she imagined what strange new worlds they may encounter the next day.

Star Trek Guide (probably a little inaccurate, there's so much star trek in the world):

Klingons: humanoid warrior species with pronounced forehead ridges that go to about the coronal suture of the human skull. they often have long dark hair and distinctive facial hair- in essentially perpetual conflict with Romulans for the majority of the 23rd and 24th centuries

Betazoids: humanoid species with no physical differences from humans except for pure black irises. they have telepathy in both concrete thoughts and emotions

Vulcans: humanoid species that pride themselves on logic above all else. Many are capable of a form of telepathy known as a mind meld, which is part of the intimate life of Vulcans. They are closely related to Romulans. Both Vulcans and Romulans have upturned eyebrows and pointed ears. prior to 370 AD, Vulcans were very warlike. A philosopher at the time led the transformation of society from violence to logic (Spock is a notable half-human-half-Vulcan)

Romulans: humanoid species that prioritizes conquest, in conflict with the Federation and Klingons. as Vulcan evolved from violence to peace, some dissented and left the planet to settle on the other two planets in that star system. Romulans were born from the dissenting Vulcans and indigenous populations of the settled planets. Some Romulans also have brow ridges in a "V" on their foreheads, although others are indistinguishable from Vulcans.

Ferengi: humanoid species that prioritizes profit above all else, and are notorious for their misogyny.. typically hairless, with large skulls, disproportionately large ears and brow ridges, orange skin, blue fingernails, and sharp teeth. (yk what no matter how accurately you describe the Ferengi, it's difficult to picture them without a picture)

[michaelmilligan]

Archangel Week: AU To boldly go where someone has gone before

(Star Trek AU, Midam, 6.5k, also on AO3)

***

Michael noticed that something was going on the moment Raphael turned their face towards the console in their chair. They studied it for several seconds, their face rippling in surprise, before reporting to Michael.

“Captain, we have located a vessel near the Veruvian border,” they said, their expression flawlessly calm again.

“On our side?” Michael asked, though he already knew the answer – Raphael would never have reported it if it was not important. Still, there were protocols.

“Yes. Our scanners indicate that it is moving further into our space, though slowly.” Raphael permitted another slight ripple to cross their face. “Further, scans indicate that the vessel is a Federation ship.”

Michael stilled his hands, lightly gripping the armrests. “Is that an assumption, or established fact?”

Raphael tilted their head to the side. “It is the most logical assumption, but not established fact.”

“Then we will delay our judgement in this case until further information is collected.” Michael arose from his chair with the fluidity that only angels possessed – for a moment, he thought of Adam's struggles to get up from normal chairs, his complaints that he didn't have enough abdominal muscles to smoothly arise from a reclining position. The thought almost made Michael's face waver, but he pulled himself together. He was on duty, after all, and as the general on board this vessel he was required to be professional in front of his soldiers.

With a hand gesture, Michael conjured his standing console, and reviewed the data himself. His three fingers were quick, but his eyes were quicker, and soon he had learned all there was to know yet: That the energy signature, as well as the transponder signal they had picked up matched what little data they had on Federation vessels.

Only one had ever crossed into their space, and they had retrieved little information from it, seeing as it had fallen apart so quickly.

“How far?” Michael demanded, and Raphael bent over their console.

Samandriel let his fingers fly over his own console, no doubt relaying the assessment regarding distance and speed to Raphael. The angel was a good pilot, but sometimes a little hasty – he should have waited for Raphael's demand of the data.

Raphael did not draw attention to it, though, and possibly no one would notice. They may think that Raphael had demanded the data with a press of buttons on their console.

“Twenty minutes,” Raphael said at last, and Michael frowned.

He drew up the same data on his console. “They are well past our border then. How did they get there without us noticing sooner?”

This time, Raphael did press buttons to demand more data, and Hester busied herself at the science station to relay it. Her fingers were always steady, all three of them sure and precise in their movement, and her face betrayed nothing but a slight whiff of disdain. A true angel.

It was almost a pity that she could never become anything more than she was now. There was no track to becoming a general for those who were not archangels.

But then, this was for the best. She was well-suited to her station, and would only get airs of grandeur if given more responsibility.

“I want updates as soon as we have them,” Michael said, and let the standing console glide back into the floor as he returned to his chair.

“Relay any data to me,” Raphael said, and soon engrossed themself in a stream of information. Their face rippled once before turning to Michael. “We have confirmation that it is a Starfleet ship. Visuals have been acquired.”

“On screen.” Michael stood up again, and noticed that he may seem nervous to his crew. With forced detachment, he studied the view on the screen before him: a ship not unlike the Cassiopeia which they had encountered all those years ago, though obviously a little different, perhaps upgraded.

The designation on its hull read NCC-80102.

“Hail them,” Michael said to Raphael, who relayed the command to Inias at the communication console. “And inform the humans.”

That last command, Raphael enacted themself. Possibly because it might have been misunderstood by others – there were more than just humans on board. But Michael had never bothered to learn the differences between their species.

“We're being hailed,” Lieutenant Nitero said.

“First Contact so soon,” Will mused.

“Be careful,” Deanna told him, and he smiled at her.

“Always. But this is what we're here for, right?” To Nitero, he said: “On screen.”

Will stood up, and then wondered if he was maybe dizzy, seeing the scene on the viewscreen distorted like that. But as he forced his eyes to focus, he realised that it wasn't him – the other species simply looked like that.

“I am Captain William Riker from the USS Titan,” he introduced himself, putting on a smile to ease both this new species and himself. They looked like something out of a Halloween movie – humanoid, but too thin, with too indistinct features for the part on top to really count as a face. Like something imitating humans, but badly.

They were also blue, and seemed to be slightly glowing.

“I am Michael of the Heavenly Sword,” the creature standing in the middle of the screen said. “Welcome, Starfleet.”

Will shared a perplexed look with Deanna. “I see you're one step ahead of us. You know us, but I'm afraid that we don't know you.”

The creature – Michael, which was a surprisingly human name – gave something like a nod. “We have encountered your kind before, when they were adrift in our space. The Cassiopeia was reportedly torn apart by an attack and the passage through a wormhole.”

Will stood straighter, his hackles rising. “Reportedly?” The name Cassiopeia meant nothing to him, but was Michael implying that they had shot down the ship?

“Our scans confirmed damage consistent with that from energy weapons. Scans also showed that particles consistent with the passage through a wormhole were present. The survivors furthermore did not recognise any known star charts, and we were not familiar with their species.”

“Survivors,” Will repeated. Now they were talking. Unless these guys had killed all Starfleet personnel – in which case they'd know what to expect from this interaction.

“Yes, we were able to extract several crew members from the failing ship. Some of them have since relocated to our home planet, Caelum, or one of our colonies, though some have remained on board this ship.”

Only Michael and another of his kind were visible on the screen, the second on a chair in a way that reminded Will of Riza, and many hours spent in the sun. There was no immediately obvious way to discern them, since they had no hair or pronounced facial features. They did seem to wear something likes clothes, including gloves, but the two visible people were wearing the same colour.

Just when Will realised that he hadn't even asked their species' name, Michael took a step to the side to make room for people stepping into the frame. There was a vulcan, Will noted, and what seemed to be two humans and an andorian. They were wearing the same drab uniforms as Michael did, a dull sort of brown.

Before Will could even open his mouth to greet them, a gasp sounded from the pilot's console.

“Adam?”

Will turned towards the Lieutenant, but he only stared at the screen with his mouth open and eyes wide. On the screen, one of the humans looked back at him with a scowl.

“Someone you know, Lieutenant?” Will asked.

Reluctantly, Lieutenant Winchester turned to him, as if afraid that 'Adam' would vanish if he looked away. “He's my brother, sir.”

“Half-brother,” the guy on screen said, pursing his lips. “Hey, Sam.”

“Are you sure that it's wise to let them on board?” Deanna asked, but helped straighten the uniform around Will's shoulders. “I can't read them at all, they could be up to anything.”

“But you were able read the humans, and they had no ill-will towards us, right?” Will asked, not for the first time. Deanna could fret a little when her empathy didn't work. Not that it wasn't understandable – Will also had to think about the safety of his crew, and his wife.

But in the end, it was Starfleet's goal to meet new species and civilisations.

“Adam had some resentment towards his brother,” Deanna said thoughtfully.

“Half-brother,” Will said, but the joke fell flat. “Imzadi, this is a First Contact mission. As the captain, I need to show good will towards them.”

“Technically, it's Second Contact,” Deanna said, but then sighed. Will knew she wasn't really trying to convince him to cancel the whole thing. She was just airing her concerns.

“This will be over before you know it, and then we'll bring these people home.”

Deanna huffed out a small laugh. “My hero,” she said, and kissed him before they left their quarters.

The delegation consisted only of Michael – who Will assumed was the Captain – and the former crew members of the Cassiopeia. Will would have thought that they would send more of their own people and only let the others come over after, and he had still feared that maybe they wouldn't let the Starfleet personnel go at all. So it was a nice surprise to see that Michael apparently trusted both the, for him, alien crew members of his own ship, as well as the crew of the Titan.

It might have just been that they were beamed in that way, but Adam stepped off the platform right next to Michael while the rest of the delegation stayed back. The other human was looking around with wide eyes, as if she couldn't believe she was back on a Starfleet ship.

“Captain William,” Michael said, and inclined his head while turning his hands palms up.

A greeting, Will supposed, and tried to imitate the gesture. Adam obviously tried and failed to hold back a grin, while Michael cocked his head to the side.

“Captain,” Will started, then faltered. “I'm sorry, I'm not even sure if you call your rank captain – or even if you have the equivalent of a captain. You know so much more about us than we do about you.”

“Indeed,” Michael said, his face rippling strangely. Will also realised that he couldn't be speaking his own language, since the universal translator wouldn't know it – which might have explained the slight accent Will thought he heard. “I am a general, though we do not use titles much.”

“I see. Well, you probably know a lot more about how we talk than the other way around, so forgive us if we're coming off as rude.”

Michael inclined his head again. “This will almost certainly happen. I have been learning your English language, though, and your – ah, how do you say – human quirks.”

Will felt his eyebrows shoot upwards. “I see.”

Adam still looked amused, as if there was a joke Will wasn't getting, but he let it slide.

“Oh, I haven't introduced you to my First Officer yet. This is Commander Deanna Troi.”

Deanna smiled at Michael and executed the earlier greeting with much more grace than Will had. Michael returned the gesture, then studied Deanna for a moment longer.

“You are not human,” he eventually said.

“Oh, no, I'm betazoid,” she said, seeming surprised.

There wasn't outwardly any difference between humans and betazoids, so for a member of an alien species to be able to tell...

“I see. And the betazoid people have telepathic abilities?” Michael asked, looking at Adam more than Will or Deanna.

“Yes,” Deanna said, looking unsettled.

Adam frowned at Michael.

Michael turned back to Deanna, his eyes unblinking, since he had no eyelids. “My people have telepathic abilities as well, though we do not use them at a distance. We are rather private about our thoughts, and I would ask you not to pry.”

Deanna's smile was a little crooked. “As a half-human, I can only detect emotions, not full thoughts. And you don't need to worry – I cannot read your emotions at all.”

Michael nodded, though it seemed a bit stiff, which was interesting on a being that looked as if it had no bones.

“Can you turn it off?” Adam asked, his gaze on Deanna strangely intense. “Because it is kind of rude to pry.”

Deanna shook her head. “I'm afraid I can't. It is an innate ability, and trying to stop my empathy is like... well, like trying to stop breathing.”

“Oh. Well, that's generally not recommended, then,” Adam said, a bit startled. “Sorry, I probably should have known, but we didn't really get that far in neuroscience before the war, and I didn't know any betazoids.”

“Neuroscience? You were studying medicine then?” Deanna asked.

Adam nodded. “Until the Borg attacked. Starfleet students could volunteer to serve on ships during the war, and I was put on the Cassiopeia.”

That would explain why Adam looked so young. He could barely be thirty, and the records Will had studied before this meeting had said that the Cassiopeia had been presumed destroyed several years earlier, during the war with the Borg.

“How old were you back then?” Will asked, frowning.

“Nineteen.”

A nineteen-year old, volunteering to go to war, and getting lost for several years as a result. He must have been overjoyed to see his own people again, to get a chance to go back home.

“Please,” Will said, indicating the way out of the transporter room, “let's go to the meeting room.”

Even though it was called a meeting room, Adam was more reminded of a house party. A small buffet was set up on the conference table, and people started mingling as soon as they stepped into the room. Adam didn't have any plans on socialising, but he knew he had no choice in the matter when Sam spotted him.

“Adam,” he said, and his face lit up like a Bussard collector before going to warp. “I can't believe we found you!”

“U-huh.” Adam thought that they had found the Titan rather than the other way around, but if Sam wanted to live in a self-delusion, who cared.

“We thought you were dead.” For someone of his size, it shouldn't have been possible to look like a kicked puppy. And yet, Sam somehow managed.

“Yeah, well, I couldn't exactly send a message or anything,” Adam grumbled.

“Oh, no, I didn't mean to blame you.”

Sure. Whatever.

Sam gulped. “You know, your mom-”

“Yeah, I know.” Adam had heard about all the planets that had been destroyed by the Borg, back before the Cassiopeia had fallen into the wormhole. The loss of lives had been astronomical – though Adam had only fallen into despair when he had seen 'New Minnesota' on the list.

He'd had no illusions about his mom having made it. She would have stayed behind to help as many people get away as possible, and to comfort those who couldn't get off the planet. That was what his mom had been like – others had always come first.

It was no wonder that she had been a nurse.

“So,” Adam said, trying to chase those gloomy thoughts away, “how's Dean?”

The expression on Sam's face didn't bode well.

Seemed like Adam was the only (kind of, sort of) brother Sam had left.

“Angels... an interesting name,” Will said, intrigued.

While Michael looked nothing like he would have imagined an angel – except for, maybe, him being so undefinable – he wondered if his species had ever had contact with humans before, or if there was any other connection between them.

“I am aware of the connotations of that name in your culture,” Michael said, almost apologetically, “and our pronunciation is a bit different, but I found that this is what humans and the other humanoids will best understand.”

“You don't consider yourself humanoid, then?” Deanna asked.

Michael cocked his head. “Do you consider yourself to be like other species? We Angels are what we are, and other species may be similar to us, but I don't see why I should use a word for myself that marks me as similar to humans, rather than the other way around.”

Deanna considered that – while she mostly spoke betazoid, she was familiar enough with the English language to know what he was referring to.

“There are different words for it,” she ultimately said. “Every species takes itself as a base line, I think. But in the end, one admits when there are similarities.”

Michael gave a small nod. “One must admit that we are vaguely similar in shape, with two lower extremities and two upper ones, flanking a head.”

“And isn't that what humanoid means?” Deanna asked.

“Perhaps. But the word... what is the phrase... it bugs me.”

Will huffed out a laugh. Somehow, hearing such a colloquial term from someone like Michael was supremely funny.

“Did I use it right?” Michael asked. “I am still working through what Adam teaches me in earnest and which sayings are a joke.”

“Adam taught you?” Deanna glanced over at Adam and Lieutenant Winchester, who seemed to be arguing. “I thought he was a med student, not a linguist.”

“He is a doctor, among our people,” Michael corrected her, and also looked towards Adam for a moment. “He graduated at one of our universities and is working as a doctor on our ship.”

“Oh.” Will looked at Deanna. “I guess, over all those years, he built a life with your people, huh?”

Something like a smile pulled at Michael's lip-less mouth. “Yes. He has a life with us.”

Deanna's own smile faltered as she felt rage and exasperation rising to critical levels in the room. It was easy to locate the source – Adam wasn't only inwardly fuming.

“For the last time,” he bellowed, making the rest of the room fall silent, “I'm not coming back to Federation space, Sam!”

“But Adam-” Lieutenant Winchester started.

“Lieutenant,” Deanna interrupted him, walking towards the two. Once she was close enough to speak without the whole room hearing her, she said: “Why don't you take a walk?”

“But-”

“Lieutenant,” Deanna said again, more sharply. The intent behind that one word seemed to have come across, or maybe the Lieutenant simply remembered that she was his superior officer – but in any case, Lieutenant Winchester left, with his head held high and at least some of his dignity intact.

“Sorry for that,” Adam said through gritted teeth once his brother was out of sight.

Deanna could tell that he only felt sorry after looking at Michael, and even then the anger outweighed everything else.

“Have you tried the food yet?” she asked to distract him. It seemed to work – at least he was a little confused now, and less angry. “We made specialities from Vulcan, Andoria, and Earth.”

Adam scanned the buffet table with mild disdain, but perked up at a particular dish. Apparently, the cookie salad was a sight for sore eyes.

When he had placed more than a fair amount of the dessert on his plate, Adam said: “I didn't mean to yell at Sam, but he can't expect me to come back with y'all.”

Deanna made a thoughtful noise, trying not to show her surprise. “He thought he would never see you again, and then he suddenly found you. I think he can be excused for getting a little ahead of himself. Don't you?”

Adam pressed his lips into a thin line.

“My apologies,” Michael said, glancing at Adam. “It appears that my crew member caused a commotion.”

Of course, it was Sam Winchester who was really at fault, pressuring and annoying Adam. But still, it was unlike Adam to loose his cool like that – Michael needed to find away to detach himself from Captain William, and pull Adam away from Commander Deanna...

“Oh, well, I'm sure my crew member is partly at fault,” Captain William said, his smile a little crooked. “I must say, I never thought about anyone staying, either. But it has been several years, so Adam... sorry, Doctor Milligan, right? Anyway, it must be difficult to imagine leaving now, especially if he's a doctor for your species, which – sorry, but I doubt that what he learned is all that applicable to other species.”

Michael nodded. “Yes. And several of the survivors from the Cassiopeia have built lives with us. Most of them have settled somewhere, though I imagine some may still wish to return to their people.”

It would be hard on Adam if all his humanoid friends left. Michael didn't actually have any idea if any of the other crew members would stay.

With a start, Michael realised that not only Adam would miss them. Raphael's weekly 3D chess matches with T'Lor would stop. Samandriel wouldn't have Tynaar following him around the ship with big eyes like a hellhound puppy anymore.

Michael wouldn't be able to ask Mariama about human culture and traditions anymore, and would be unable to surprise Adam with a celebration or gift from his home.

The loss to Michael's crew, logistically as well as emotionally, would be higher than anticipated.

In the comfort of their own quarters, Michael placed a tentative hand on Adam's clothed upper arm. At first, Michael thought that Adam would shake him off and deny him any further intimacy, but then he placed his other hand over Michael's.

Since both of them had already taken off their gloves, the touch sparked their mental connection, and Michael felt tension fall off of both of them as their essences touched and joined. As so often, Adam's smaller essence was surrounded by Michael's bigger one, as in a hug. Adam also jokingly called Michael 'the big spoon' regularly.

But a part of Adam was keeping itself back, closed off to Michael. He prodded it gently, and Adam was stubborn for a moment, but eventually released his feelings to Michael's soothing presence.

Anger. It was anger, and hurt, and confusion because he had never expected to see one of his half-brothers, or even any human, again. There was even a small part of Adam that was touched by Sam's concern, though it was almost drowned out by the anger and resentment at his so-called family.

Images of his homeworld's name flashing on a screen bubbled to the surface. And then images that were not memories but nightmares – his mother brutally killed, buried under rubble, or worse, assimilated by those vile creatures, the Borg.

Michael shuddered – he was not immune to the breadth of Adam's emotions, which sometimes threatened to overwhelm him. Angel minds were more disciplined, and more capable of keeping their emotions separate instead of having them tangled in one big, complicated mess. But human minds – or at least Adam's, since Michael had never touched the essence of another humanoid – were always swirling with unfinished thoughts and knotted up emotions.

It was chaos, as Raphael would have said, if they had known. Michael never spoke to them of his connection to Adam, since that would have been most rude, though of course when he joined his essence with Raphael, some things tended to bleed through.

The thing was, Michael liked the chaotic nature of Adam's mind – as an archangel and general of this vessel, he rarely ever got to solve puzzles himself anymore, and mundane tasks such as sorting were done by computers. But Adam's mind couldn't be touched by a computer, and so Michael started organising the thoughts and feelings, putting them in neat 'boxes' as Adam always said.

Adam's essence calmed down at his efforts, letting him disentangle what had been a stream of feelings and was now a mere trickle. It was only when Michael pulled out the little thread of gratefulness that Adam seemed to realise it was there – he peered at it with a wave of surprise, and then embarrassment.

Michael took those feelings, too, and made neat stacks of them.

Ultimately, Adam radiated amusement, and love.

Michael took the latter one and added it to his own, letting their feelings combine and heighten each other.

For a long time, Michael hadn't thought that he would ever have a mate. He was an archangel, after all, and his power and position made it difficult to get to know any other angels. The only equals he had among his people were his siblings, and while it was not forbidden to form mate bonds with those who had come from the same parent, they were all, in his mind, children, and would always be.

Yes, Raphael was a capable general in their respective position on the ship, but they were also his little sibling who had always had a question to ask about science and how the universe worked, and who had quickly exceeded the knowledge Michael had about such things.

Gabriel, of course, was still a little kid and a prankster at heart, and Lucifer – well. Michael's relationship to Lucifer was complicated, in part because he had expected for them to form a mate bond, which Michael had rejected, since their father had forbidden it.

But now Michael had Adam, and while this did not preclude them from forming further mate bonds, he thought that he would be satisfied if he spent his whole life with only him.

Adam's essence nudged him playfully, telling him that the way he was spilling emotions and images needed to be contemplated together. Of course, Michael's emotions had all slid neatly into their boxes, with none left unsorted, but Adam drew attention to one which Michael had barely noticed – a hint of regret.

Adam seemed insecure about it, and Michael sent him a wave of reassurance. The regret had nothing to do with Adam, would never have to do with Adam, but was related to how he had rejected Lucifer on his father's orders, and how he was wondering if it had been right to follow his father's words.

Shame welled up now, related to this regret. His father had been God, supreme ruler of the angels, and it would have been treason to act against his word. Though now that he was dead... No, it was no use thinking about it. Lucifer would never love Michael the way he once had, before bitterness had entered their relationship.

This time it was Adam who sent reassurance, and hope for things to come. He had never met Lucifer, and yet Michael could tell that Adam already loved him, because Michael loved him.

But it was idle to think of such things when Lucifer was light years away, commanding his own ship. Though perhaps one day...

One day, Adam seemed to tell him, his presence now the soothing one. Our family will be even more complete.

We're already complete, Michael sent back, letting images of Kate filter into Adam's mind.

Yes, we are, Adam agreed – and then pulled back, out of their connection.

“Speaking of Kate, I should get her before Anael gets sick of her,” Adam said, smiling as he put his gloves back on.

“I should go to the bridge,” Michael said, and put his own gloves on. It was always a jarring experience to do so after having been connected to someone so deeply, but he would manage. “I promised Captain William that we would speak more about connecting with the Federation.”

“Are you actually going to do it?” Adam asked, raising an eyebrow.

Michael weighed his head. “I can only pass any requests and terms on to Jack – I mean God.”

His face rippled. It was still weird to call his nephew God, but he had replaced Michael's father as supreme ruler of the angels a few years ago now. With neither Michael nor his siblings wanting to take on the role, nor being particularly suited to it, the boy had been the best choice. Despite his young age, he was doing well – his connection to all of angelkind had made him wise beyond his age.

“He's more open than your father was,” Adam said, his voice carefully neutral. “Maybe he will allow the connection.”

“Perhaps. If their ships have the technology to travel the distance to us now, communications with them may be worthwhile,” Michael said, and then realised that he had excluded Adam from the Federation, his own kind, labelling them as the other.

But Adam just smiled and nodded. “It might help both sides,” he said, and brushed his lips against Michael's face before he left their quarters.

The second meeting between angels and the crew of the Titan took place on board the Heavenly Sword. Of course, it would have been possible to do it via comms, but it was both a showing of good will and a logistical thing, as those on board who wanted to go with Starfleet would do so after the meeting.

Raphael's face had rippled in displeasure when Michael had informed him of this second meeting, but they had of course prepared everything without complaint. No doubt where they fussing over the last details now, Michael thought, re-arranging things only for T'Lor to put them back in the previously agreed position. Michael now knew that T'Lor was the only humanoid except Adam who would not leave. Apparently, it would not be 'logical' to leave behind the opportunity of first-hand studies of a little known species.

Adam had made allusions to bonds and something called 'pon farr', which meant nothing to Michael. A muscle in T'Lor's face had twitched, though, and Raphael's face had rippled in embarrassment when Michael had mentioned it.

Perhaps he would inquire the meaning at his next connection with Adam.

For now, he and Adam stood next to each other but were not touching as Captain William and his entourage beamed over.

There were pleasantries exchanged, though Captain William appeared confused by Adam's presence, and called him 'Doctor Milligan'. Michael had never understood the need for two names, or including one's rank or title in a name. While he aimed to be polite by referring to the human captain by rank, he did not react to the way Adam called him 'Captain Riker' and gave Michael a very obvious look.

When he saw that Sam was attending the meeting as well, though, Adam got more tight-lipped, his smile more strained.

At least Adam could reasonably stay by Michael's side, now that he was acting as host in the capacity of Michael's mate, and not as guest on a strange ship under the care of Michael as his general.

The humanoids appeared to be continually baffled by the closeness they kept, but were distracted upon meeting Raphael, who was more polite in addressing them, and who made compliments about the fine humanoid specimen who had served upon the Heavenly Sword, and whose presence would be missed.

Michael wasn't sure where the surprise regarding Adam and him was coming from, since Captain William and Commander Deanna stood equally close. Though Adam had told him that it was rude to speculate about whether they were mates, Michael was rather certain that they were.

However, in order to ease the humanoids' minds, Michael made sure to suggest to Adam to try the buffet. Similarly to the set-up at the other meeting, they had prepared an array of dishes – both traditional ones of the humanoids, as well as traditional Angel dishes.

Adam tended to prefer the latter, since, according to him, the humanoid dishes were 'poor replicas' of the real thing. This made sense considering that the Angels didn't even know the ingredients used in those dishes. Adam had said many times that the grains the Angels used were different than the ones he knew, as were the vegetables and fruits.

Michael couldn't spend too much time looking at Adam without being rude, but out of the corners of his eyes, he saw him put a mountain of balagda on his plate, the sweet dish being one of his favourites.

Michael also saw Sam approaching Adam – just as he had planned.

Perhaps he should have told Adam that he had purposely asked Captain William to bring Sam with him, but then Adam would have only been mad at him. This way, he got the chance to make amends with his estranged brother without Michael being in the cross-fire.

At some point, Commander Deanna excused herself to go to the buffet. Michael was rather certain that she was only lingering around the Angel dishes to make sure that Sam and Adam wouldn't kill each other.

Sam was being annoying again. Less pushy, maybe, but more pitiful, if that was even possible. He was using his puppy eyes, and this time Adam wanted to punch him a little less, though he did still want to punch him.

“Sam, I have a life here,” he told him for what felt like the thirtieth time.

“You can have a life back home,” Sam countered.

Home. What was that even supposed to mean, with regard to Federation space? The planet he had grown up on, that had been eradicated by the Borg? Wherever Sam was? Starfleet academy?

No. Adam's home was right here, on the Heavenly Sword.

“Sam, I became a doctor here,” Adam said, willing the stubborn ass to finally understand and just be happy for him. “I'm not a doctor in the Federation. Besides, I have a family.”

Sam frowned at him. “What do you mean, family?”

“I-” It was rude to speak in public about one's mating bonds, but Adam told himself that it was fine since Sam was human. “I'm mated. And I have a-”

Adam broke off and looked towards the doors, feeling a pull, or maybe someone reaching out...

The doors opened, admitting Kate, with Hannah right behind.

Adam smiled and pushed past Sam.

It was poor etiquette to admit a child to a meeting, Michael thought, but he couldn't be upset about it when it was his little girl. He would have to reprimand Hannah after this, of course, since she had failed to keep Kate in check. But for now, he was happy to see her. She shifted from her distinct Angel appearance into a more human one when she saw Adam, complete with long blonde hair in what Adam always called 'pigtails'.

She had already been wearing a dress, having taken to those since Adam had first managed to replicate one for her. So now, she looked like a human toddler as she waddled over to Adam, and let him pick her up.

Yes, it was rude to admit a child to a meeting, but it would have been cruel to dismiss her now that she was there.

“Oh,” Captain William made, once again seeming baffled. This appeared to be his default mode that day.

“My apologies for the disturbance,” Michael said. “I hope my daughter's presence is not too inconvenient.”

Captain William blinked at him. “Your daughter?”

“Yes. She is daughter to Adam and me.” Boasting a mating bond would have been quite rude, but one should never fail to emphasise one's parentage. It was a point of pride, after all.

Captain William, however, only looked more bewildered.

“Oh, who is this lovely little lady?” Commander Troi asked, at which Kate half hid her face in Adam's shoulder.

“This is Kate,” Adam said, revelling in the bond as his daughter shared all her thoughts and feelings with him, still uninhibited at her young age and not wearing gloves. “Kate, say hello.”

“Hewo,” Kate said, and nuzzled against Adam's neck.

Adam sent encouragement to her, but also told her that she didn't have to talk to the strangers if she didn't want to.

“Is she your daughter?” Commander Troi asked, smiling at them both.

Meanwhile, Sam was staring with an open mouth, and his shock only got worse when Adam confirmed that Kate was his.

“But how-” Sam started, then blushed furiously.

“Procreation works differently with the Angels,” Adam said, and stopped when he saw Michael and Raphael approaching. “It's a long story.”

Actually, it wasn't long at all. Angel babies were born through the mating bond of their parents – basically, Kate was a brain child. She had formed out of a little part of Michael, infused with some of Adam's spirit.

But it would have been embarrassing to say all that in public.

“Say hi to your uncle Sam, Kate,” Adam prompted her again, and she turned towards Sam with sudden interest. Through her bond with Adam, she gleamed what an 'uncle' was – and she immediately wanted to go into Sam's arms. “Oh, sweetie, I'm not sure Uncle Sam wants that.”

“What? No, I, uh- I can hold her,” Sam said when he saw her reaching for him.

Adam looked at him sharply. “Angel telepathy works through touch,” he cautioned.

Or at least it was only ever used through touch. Adam was pretty sure that Kate could reach him even without touching, though her reach wasn't very long. So maybe it was both a skill issue as well as a societal norm that limited it to touching.

“Oh, uh...” Sam looked less certain now about holding his niece. Adam kept her against his chest, lightly rocking her.

“She's beautiful,” Commander Troi said kindly.

When Michael approached, Kate let some of her Angel appearance bleed through, startling the assorted humanoids. Adam didn't mind – he loved her in any form she could take, and if she had never looked like him at all, that would have been fine, too.

Once Kate was in Michael's arms, she turned fully back to her Angel appearance, that mostly faceless, vaguely humanoid shape.

For a moment, Adam wondered what others saw when they looked at them – what Sam saw as he stared with mild disgust. But Adam only saw Michael and Kate, the two people in the world he loved most. Not that he minded the appearance of other Angels – perhaps he had, once upon a time, but he had lived among them for long enough to get used to it.

“Well, this is a surprise,” Captain Riker said. “The first interspecies baby before we even officially made First Contact.”

“I'm not sure she has any of my genes,” Adam said, and grinned when Michael's face rippled at their old argument. Then his eyes softened when he focused back on Kate. “But yeah, she's definitely both of our daughter.”

“Well, Lieutenant Winchester.” Captain Riker lightly slapped Sam's back. “How does it feel to have a little niece, huh?”

Sam just kept staring, but the puppy dog eyes were coming back.

Great.

The Titan soon returned to Federation space.

They would be back to take any other survivors of the Cassiopeia who wanted to leave Angel space, and to further discuss a bond with angelkind. Michael wondered what Jack would decide with regards to that – he had put his own suggestion into the briefing which was sent to Caelum, of course, but who knew what God would decide.

Not that it mattered much, though Adam might be sad if God refused the connection. Still, it wouldn't have any bearing on Adam being home, right here with Michael, with their little family.

Because he loved Michael, and Michael loved him, and they both loved Kate so much it was sometimes unbelievable.

And maybe one day Raphael would be less awkward about their bond, and Gabriel would be close again, and Lucifer would have forgiven Michael. Then, their family would be even more complete – but it was already perfect.

[pod-together]

Pod-Together Day 5 Reveals 2023

Where No Flan Has Gone Before (Star Trek) written by BookGirlFan, performed by lilolilyrae Summary: These are the reviews of the Starship Bakerprise. Its five year plan - to explore strange new pastries; to seek out new recipes and new dessert combinations. To boldly go where no flan has gone before.

Homing Beacon (Supernatural (TV 2005)) written by ReformedTsundere, performed by Ceewelsh Summary: Ambushed and captured on a recon mission, coalition fighter Dean Winchester is brought to an unknown location by an unknown party and thrown into a cell for unknown reasons. The only thing he is sure of is that he's pissed and that he's not alone.

periphery (no labels) (Tortall - Tamora Pierce) written by kitsunerei88, performed by korechthonia Summary: Lovers, Kel thought, rolling her eyes. At least there was one headache she didn’t have. She was about to tell her friend he could wait when she remembered that she’d get to see Dom while at Steadfast. It would be nice to be able to sit and chat for awhile without kidnapping, flight, and war to distract them.

Or: on falling together, in five scenes.

The Stars Are Still There (Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons)) written by Hagar, performed by klb Summary: “Please don’t be on your own,” Barbara says quietly. “Whatever you do, don’t isolate yourself. There’s very little that hurts us more than that.” “I think I learned that lesson in the Darklands,” Jim says. His voice is heavy, heavy and full of bone-deep exhaustion, of the weariness of the soul.

Death Wish [text, audio] (The Locked Tomb Series | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir) written by zombified_queer, performed by mistbornhero Summary: In another life, Harrowhark Nonagesimus was raised alone. In another life, Gideon did not grow up in the shadow of the Ninth House. In another life, they still find one another.

SWSSS (Star Wars Self-Saving System) [starting text, with pensieve podfics by Flowerparrish,GodofLaundryBaskets, sisi_rambles, bluedreaming, and Litra ] (Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, 人渣反派自救系统 - 墨香铜臭 | The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù) created by Opalsong, GodOfLaundryBaskets, Sisi_Rambles, bluedreaming, Litrapod, and Flowerparrish Summary: When anti-fan Shen Yuan dies of outrage at the latest piece of trash he watches, he transmigrates into the world of the Star Wars. Can he fix all the plot holes in his beloved most hated series? Or will he unintentionally make things worse? At least he’ll be able to meet Anakin for real and tell him how special he really is. Oh. And Star Wars creator Shang Qinghua is there too. Surprise!

Satisfaction Brought Her Back [text, audio] (Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types) written by Trudemaethien, performed by stargateinmybasement Summary: The Torrent Command bunkroom has welcomed its newest member with open arms since Commander Cody was last able to spend any quality time there with Rex: Commander Tano. She’s an unquantified variable Cody was not expecting. Quantity and quality aren’t mutually exclusive though, and neither are the clones’ relationships. Rex is glad his two favorite commanders are able to get along so well. And Ahsoka continues to explore and expand her experiences.

Constructing a Biography (The Murderbot Diaries - Martha Wells) written by bluegeekEM, performed by kalakirya Summary: Murderbot finds the process of creating a biography for the upcoming documentary release... complicated.

All Manner of Things (Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types) written by nimblermortal, performed by Drel_Murn Summary: Julian is pretty sure he's not the Count of Lettenhove's daughter, but after he's thrown away his other marriage prospects, his father sends him to forge a political marriage with the Warlord of the North. Julian's just trying to survive, but in the face of true kingship and the Kaer Morhen Fanon Hot Springs, he might just learn to thrive. Accidental Warlord AU in which Jaskier is trans. With, perhaps, a few other changes along the way.

Reconditioning (Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling) written by BinteMuhammad, performed by SerenaEW Summary: Harry had gained an unexpected interest in potions, but that does not stop him from blowing cauldrons. To counter that, Harry throws himself headfirst in studying the theory. Ironically, he just keeps getting worse, and Harry can't figure out why. Umbridge is another obstacle, as is Professor Snape. Or is he?

The Solutions We Reach For [text, audio] (The Murderbot Diaries - Martha Wells) written by estelraca, performed by Koschei_B Summary: It was just supposed to be a boring mission for all of them--do a little archaeology, a little biology. But then they actually found the people they were doing the archaeology on, and, well, things got a lot more complicated.

[quarktrinity]

quark watches star trek season 2 episode 22:

A Distress Call

we have found two hot people on this planet

oh theyre evil aliens got it. they hypnotized the crew. dang

everyone on this show is so easily tricked

yknow i feel like the enterprise has been boldly going where no man has gone before for much more than 5 years but go off i guess

once again a tos writer really wants to dom william shatner

these aliens are so op wtf

/hits the pause button on your brain/

the dude aliens deserve to be just as sexualized as the ladies. give them backless shirts too.

"we do not colonize. we conquer." explain to me the difference

shocking twist: this time kirk is being imprisoned & dominated alongside the rest of his crew!

oh ok so theres an actual reason they look like humans this time

spock stop saying "fascinating" surely there is at least one other word you know. besides "logic"

Vulcan Mind Powers

bold return of the bass guitar of narrative tension

leonard nimoy throws himself across the set

shocking twist 2: this time kirk does the shoulder-chop-knockout!

get paralyzed idiots

oh no kirk has to be punished now...

your punishment is watching your crew get fridged

not the red shirts!!! one of them was a girl this time!!!

shocking twist 3: a red shirt was brought back to life

the evil aliens are psychic octopuses in human skinsuits

strategic napping

why do the aliens care if spock dies anyway

warp 11...

our next gambit: handwaved physics

"lets blow up the enterprise to stop the aliens" lol. lmao even. kirk loves his babygirl ship more than he loves hot blondes. no way in hell he does that.

UHURA NOOOOOOOO

i am less sad about chekov getting Polyhedron'd but it is unfortunate nonetheless

lets sit the evil aliens in front of an ipad

lets get the evil aliens drunk

theres an au of this episode in which kirk has sex with one of them

oh wait that might not be an au

evil alien girl calls kirk a whore

"we are teaching the aliens about straight sex to save the universe" is the most gene roddenberry thing ive ever heard

mccoy commits medical malpractice

evil alien girl wants to dominate kirk so bad

she literally said she wants to experiment on him. this is amazing

evil alien love triangle

spock is making the boss alien jealous, but what i find funny about it is that hes implying kirk has control over the girl when its very much the other way around

The Boys Are Fighting

"im stimulating him" this is amok time all over again

evil alien girl had her femdom awakening this episode. proud of her

the evil aliens are going home

go team

[jack-kellys]

i think what’s also wild about star trek is that there is no like. introduction. there’s no true meeting of the characters or learning initial things about the world. it’s 1968 and sci fi is on your tiny screen and there are laser guns and human looking aliens and discovery and situations. and that is literally all they give you you just have to learn by watching

so i guess im also saying… that if someone.. was to write an au. “being into” star trek was never originally applicable to understanding and enjoying star trek. btw. they boldly go where no one has gone before and in 1968 fucking so did you lmao

[izzysarchivedblogs]

clint's au verses + notes

as a general rule of thumb, @/thefleetfinest regardless of verse or ship, mel's leonard mccoy is clint's sober buddy/sponsor always. assume he is in all of these verses. Or if i have written him in / if he is referenced like an npc assume it's mel's leonard. // mass effect and dragon age may go single ship as well to be determined

star trek // to boldly go // single ship: @/crisispider

Set in the Kelvin timeline

One of five helmsman on the Enterprise, he is typically Sulu's alternate and typically takes the night shift

Post Beyond, he is contemplating a career change from pilot seat to being a security officer thinking his skillset may be better used not glued to monitoring flight controls (actually its the paranoia and trauma)

He doesn't join Starfleet Academy until he is 33, after being an entertainer from the age of 14 to 32 when he got a divorce

He's an odd one, not the most authority friendly

Manages sobriety alongside Leonard Mccoy after an incident with John Walker in the final year of academy before the Nero crisis

Divorced and sad except now he is a committed relationship with engineer Peter and he makes him happy

Friends: Leonard, Uhura, Carol, Peter and Linda. Iowan Alliance with Jim

wastelands // you can run on for a long time sooner or later god'll cut you down

Can follow either the comics or the podcast for plot and canon in terms of events

Drinking again

An absolute disaster and bastard of an old man

Blind from glaucoma

wastelands inspired au // something in the orange tells me we're not done (single ship w/ crisispider)

features my "oc" ashley parker barton, blood related to barney barton, adopted daughter clint barton and peter parker (he is married to peter) as well as peter and mj's daughter mayday

Sadly, he and Leonard are no longer sober

Currently on his revenge quest to kill the T-Bolts and everyone responsible for V-Day

Can be deterred from this suicide revenge quest because well his family is alive

the more fun version of wastelands and more flexible with plot

mass effect // a spectre. smoke and dust and shadow nothing substantial until i chose to be

Canon flexible/divergent setting of the main trilogy // time blind

One of the first few human spectres to come after Commander Shepard (this can happen in the two year gap when shepard is "dead" in me2 // happens post any ending of me3)

Barney and him got off planet of earth when he was only 12 years old, where they both ended up running with a bad crew

That causes a lot of trouble for Clint, but also makes him the best marksmen you could ever pay for

After Barney dies from injuries on a job gone wrong, Clint flips his tune and starts to go after gangs like the gang he ran with (turn vigilante)

There was one specific take down of a splinter pirate crew, that had lead to Clint meeting and working with high ranking Alliance officer Steve Rogers and engineer Tony Stark (not just a phony tony stark; but the Tony Stark of wealth and fame)

The meeting of these two, would later prove beneficial, when Clint would be set up by ex partners-in-crime and would lead up to arrested on the Citadel, awaiting Council judgement

Rogers and Stark had apparently been keeping an eye on Clint, and not only bailed him out with the Council but pitched and vouched; that the Citadel instead turn Clint into one of their operatives. he's got skills that are hard to teach, scary accuracy with any weapon in his hand.

That's how Clint went from orphan to criminal to vigilante to one of the Citadel's few human spectres

Clint has a small crewed ship named the BROKEN ARROW with a varying crew (some details will be static if verse goes singleship)

BROKEN ARROW has two doctors, leonard mccoy (@/thefleetsfinest) and (my) linda carter who specializes in medicinal care for biotics and xenology

Sobriety comes with being a spectre, wanting to be and do better; actually take this seriously as a way to do good in the universe

working an andromeda verse as well

the last of us // had to fight like hell until fight like hell made me one hell of a fighter

Clint's one of the original fireflies; when the group started to rise up in the world

He's always been a resistance guerilla fighter of a guy; doesn't approve of some of the ways that fedra control affected the world

Incredibly resourceful and an invaluable survivalist, almost exclusively uses a bow and arrow

As the fireflies start to lose sight, or as clint finds out about some of their not-so ideal ways of helping people (he is a huge help people guy) he starts to turn away from being a firefly or being the first guy to call them out

dragon age // i will wear the title oathbreaker with pride for no more false demons shall be slain

a born ferelden-er

Has a mabari named lucky

ex templar archer turned mage rights activist

orphaned at age seven with his older brother and became a templar alongside him as the chantry orphanage put pressure upon them that becoming a templar was the maker's intended path

was a mage hunter (and good at it)

quits the order as he finds himself ill with what circles have become, as the chantry does cuts him off from lyrium

turns to alcohol to cope with lyrium addiction and withdrawal

centered around the inquisition timeline, with clint joining up with the inquisition at haven ; favors mage-friendly inquisitors and anti-chantry followers most

can splinter off into two additional verses with one being clint becoming a warden in for da:o / da:a or be a companion for da2

616 // all he ever needed was to trust his own wings

Currently part of Mayor Cage's Thunderbolts

Working on amends with all the Avengers (and hopefully be an Avenger again)

Managing his sobriety well which came about after he was outed as Ronin and events of freefall

He and Kate have reconnected, and he'll usually turn a blind eye for her (sorry Luke and Helen; hawkeye fam always comes first)

[groven4]

Am I the only one who can't help but picture a star trek "au" for iswm that doesn't feel like it's really an au because everything's pretty much exactly the same, except the Invincible ll functions more like the Starship Enterprise?

Like instead of the cryopods, both the colonists and crew have their own living quarters. There are areas like the recreation deck/room and the holodecks. Multiple crew members can have the same positions but different ranks based off their place in the chain of command, so you could have Head Engineer Mack without the universe tarring itself apart. (I think anyway) Maybe after getting the colonists settled in on the planet you get a new mission from home base to "seek out new life and new civilizations" and "boldly go where no man has gone before" or something, who's to say?

Idk. I grew up with Next Generation. Maybe the idea of a self-insert slice of life space adventure is just naturally appealing to me.

[ringpyre-archived]

wait shit one more tag . heh . . .

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

He Blinded Me With Science

Many thanks to the ever-lovely and always talented @spielzeugkaiser for collaborating with me once again on this goofy, exceedingly soft Star Trek AU! 4.3k

Boldly going where no fluff has gone before...

tw: simulated near-death experiences

---

Stardate 47634.44

Commander Geralt deRiv watched with a stoic sense of envy as Counselor Pankratz wrapped his arms around young Ensign Cirilla and gave her a bone-crushing hug. The pretty young Betazoid man picked her up and spun her in a quick circle, his superior height the only way to compensate for her excessively gangly teenage limbs.

The Commander watched from nearby - not too close to the group to be considered an intrusion - and tried to find a logical way to explain why he felt his own mild sense of happiness whenever he heard a note of joy in Counselor Pankratz’s steady tenor. Geralt looked on, still oddly and illogically jealous, as the Counselor pressed a quick kiss to either of Ciri’s cheeks and declared: “Congratulations, cub! I’m so excited that you’ll be staying with us for your last few years of Starfleet training!”

Once the Counselor was finished bestowing his blessings and congratulations, Captain Vesemir stepped forward and clapped his hand over the girl’s shoulder, his sharp hazel eyes sparkling with pride and perhaps even mischief. His bushy grey mustache turned up in the corners, the ultimate marker of his approval. “Congratulations, Ensign Cirilla. Let me be the first to welcome you aboard the USS Kaer Morhen as an official member of the Bridge crew. We’re happy to have you along with us, my dear.”

“Grandma would be so proud,” Ciri smiled. It wasn't her usual chipper smile, either, but something distant and sad and longing. Geralt found human culture far too touchy-feely for his tastes; except, apparently, when it came to Counselor Pankratz. “May I send a message to the Away team and let my Mom know about my appointment, Captain?”

“Of course,” Vesemir grinned. “I’m sure that she’ll be incredibly proud of you, cub.”

Counselor Pankratz hugged Ciri one last time and Geralt felt his jealousy return, crackling just beneath the surface of his too-pale skin. The Commander’s sudden bout of white-hot emotion jarred him back to reality and he took a step forward, ready to offer Ciri his own set of congratulations. When Jaskier shot him a curious sidelong glance, however, Geralt realized that he needed to keep his feelings more deeply in check than he already was - having feelings for a Betazoid was difficult enough.

He stepped forward and patted the newly officiated Ensign on the shoulder twice, as he had just seen Vesemir do, an obvious sign of trust and competency, “Excellent work, Cirilla. I look forward to having you on the Away team. You have a clever mind and sharp observational skills; they will be a great asset.”

The young woman’s eyes widened above her already enormous smile and she bounced twice on the balls of her feet, her hands clasped beneath her chin and her cheeks flushed pink with all the praise. “Thank you so much, Commander deRiv! It means the world to hear you say that!”

“You are a commendable officer and always do your job to the best of your abilities. I am pleased to hear that you will remain a part of our crew,” Geralt nodded, eyebrows furrowed with the seriousness of his statement. He folded his hands behind his back and shifted his eyes up to meet the Captain’s, unsure of how to proceed with the boisterous Ensign’s enthusiastic response to his comments. “May I be dismissed, sir?”

“Yes, thank you, Commander. I’ll read over your report from the last Away mission this evening and send you any questions or comments I may have before your bridge shift tomorrow.”

“Understood. Thank you, Captain.”

---

Stardate 47634.44

“So the two of them have actually met before?” Vesemir clarified. Lambert nodded, smirking a little too smugly for anyone’s comfort. The Captain continued, ever-wary of the officer’s tendency to play pranks, “And you think that they’re in love?”

“I wouldn’t necessarily call it love. I mean, not to interrupt Lambert’s gossiping, Captain, but your Senior Science Officer and your Ship’s Counselor definitely have feelings for each other. I’ve seen the tips of Geralt’s pointy ears go green just from passing Jaskier’s table in Ten Forward,” Eskel noted from the raised Security platform behind the Captain’s chair. “And despite being a serial hugger and hand-holder, Jask keeps himself politely disengaged and professional whenever he’s dealing with our shy Commander deRiv.”

“They’re idiots, Captain,” First Officer Vengerberg added from her seat at Vesemir’s side. Yennefer was radiating pride and happiness, resplendent from Ciri’s recent acceptance to Starfleet and continued assignment on the Kaer Morhen. Still, she found a moment to roll her eyes and contribute, “Commander deRiv refuses to let his human side show by constantly shielding and suppressing his emotions, meanwhile Counselor Pankratz is too polite to try and hit on a man from a species known for their lack of romantic tendencies. And, since Jaskier is still half-human himself, he can’t technically read thoughts. He can only detect feelings. In my personal opinion, Captain, Jaskier isn’t sure what the Commander thinks of him.”

“Aye, sir, I agree with the Witch,” Lambert nodded. He glanced over his shoulder from his place at the helm and winked at the dark-haired woman roguishly. “Unfortunately.”

Yennefer stuck her tongue out at him.

“Knock it off, you two.” The Captain tried to hide his amusement behind a stern tone but didn’t quite succeed. “I have more pressing matters to deal with than your endless bickering - like children, I swear. Anyhow, we only narrowly managed to make it away from Florelia-4 without breaking the Prime Directive and interrupting their sacrificial rites. We need to be more careful the next time we make contact with such a young, underdeveloped society.”

“I’m sure that Jaskier would be able to teach us a thing or two about diplomacy, especially now that he’s more comfortable around us and has adjusted to the ship. The Counselor probably should have been on that Away team in the first place, then perhaps our unfortunate little debacle could have been prevented entirely.”

“You’re certainly right about his place on the Away team, Yen. I think I’d like him to take the Bridge Officers’ test as well; it would be a great boon to our company to have an empath with Bridge clearance.”

“Do you think he’ll be able to pass on his first try, Captain?” the Security Chief asked.

“He’ll need help, Commander Eskel. I expect you’ll be able to tutor him?”

“I don’t have the time,” Eskel rebutted. “Nor does Lambert; we’re working on that new Ensign Training Program for the Holodeck. Starfleet asked us to have our rough draft turned in by next week.”

“Hmm,” Vesemir leaned back and closed his eyes. His eyebrows gathered at the center of his forehead as he concentrated and Lambert got a terrible idea; a truly awful, completely horrible idea that would definitely end with Commander Geralt’s infinite happiness (regardless of how long it actually took the dumbass Science Officer to get his shit together).

He piped up, chest puffed confidently: “Not to bring the conversation back around to the Commander and his nervous blushing, but why not have Pretty Boy tutor the Counselor, Captain?”

Vesemir let one eye slide carefully open, focusing on the sassy young Lieutenant at the helm. “You mean that I should ask Commander deRiv to keep an eye on Jaskier for the duration of his Bridge Officers’ training?”

“Precisely,” First Officer Vengerberg grinned, catching onto the meaning behind Lambert’s increasingly smug smile. “Oh, you’re absolutely evil, Lamb.”

“I don’t like to meddle in the lives of my officers,” Vesemir grumbled, truly conflicted. “But this promises to be both beneficial and entertaining to all involved.”

“C’mon Captain,” Lambert pleaded. “If he’s too busy to help the Counselor then he’ll tell you so; Geralt isn’t exactly known for his abilities to make excuses or beat around the bush.”

“Alright, alright. You’re all awful and so am I. So be it.” Vesemir huffed. He tapped his communicator pin twice and spoke clearly, “Commander deRiv, please report to the Bridge.”

“On my way, Captain,” the Commander’s monotone voice crackled back.

Lambert and Ciri high-fived at the helm and Yennefer shook her head, biting back a pleased grin. Even the usually calm and collected Eskel seemed excited for whatever was about to unfold.

---

Counselor Pankratz arrived a few minutes after Commander deRiv, determined to speak with the Captain about a completely unrelated matter, and found himself on the business end of Vesemir’s affectionately stern scowl. “After the incident that occurred on our recent Away mission to Florelia-4, I’d like to give you a promotion and increase your list of responsibilities to include supervising any potentially diplomatic situations the Kaer Morhen may encounter from here on out.”

Jaskier gawked openly for a moment before gathering his wits enough to reply: “I’m more than happy to accept your kind and generous offer, Captain Vesemir, and I’m incredibly honored that you would consider me for such a position!”

Geralt stepped forward to stand at Vesemir’s side and Jaskier found himself struggling to remain focused on his commanding officer’s continued speech: “I’d also like you to take the Bridge Officers’ test. Commander deRiv will be in charge of your training regimen, so I’d like you to meet him at the holodeck sometime tomorrow evening for your first round of tutoring. I’ll let you two figure out the finer details, since I’m not privy to your individual schedules.”

“Yes, sir.” Jaskier fought bravely against the growing urge to faint and hid his sudden anxiety behind a calm and grateful smile. “Thank you again for your trust in my capabilities, Captain. I’m truly excited for these new opportunities to learn and to become closer with the other members of the crew.”

Geralt gave a single, accepting nod. “I will do my best to instruct Counselor Pankratz, Captain.”

Lambert winked at the Captain from behind the two unwitting officers’ backs and Vesemir’s scowl relaxed into a near-smile. The Captain clapped Geralt on the shoulder much the same way Geralt had done with Ciri earlier and Geralt wondered if it was mischief glinting in Vesemir’s stormy hazel eyes when he replied, “I’m sure you will, Commander.”

Stardate 47634.44, Evening

Geralt dreamed of his father for the first time that night.

The two men were standing in Geralt’s quarters, familiar and comfortable, as if Korin deRiv had always been a member of the Kaer Morhen’s crew. The human man was grinning down at Geralt with a shining sense of pride.

“Look at you, my son,” Korin smiled, his green eyes crinkling at the corners to reveal his crow’s feet. “You’ve grown quite a bit since I last saw you.”

“Father,” Geralt bowed his head respectfully.

“Just like your Mother, I see,” Korin teased. “All mannerly and polite, with a resting expression more akin to a scowl than a smile. Are you logical to a fault as well, my son?”

Geralt frowned more deeply than he already had been and turned his face away, unable to let his own confusion and conflicting emotions show. Visenna had done little in the way of raising Geralt to begin with, and she’d grown even more distant after his father’s untimely death. Geralt supposed that, with only his Mother’s brilliant coldness as an example of affectionate behavior, he may have taken after her more than he’d realized.

His shoulders sagged and his head drooped.

“Yes.”

“Hmm. You even sound like her,” Korin said. He came around to Geralt’s other side and put one hand on his son’s broad shoulder. “I may not have the kind of mental prowess that you and your Mother share, but I know a yearning heart when I see one.”

“Vulcans do not yearn,” Geralt snapped. He glared up into those familiar eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, feeling (and looking) a little childish as he did so.

“Humans do,” his Father smiled. “And I think that you would feel better if you remembered more often that you’re only half-Vulcan. The other half of your very DNA demands romance, companionship, love, and creativity. Don’t be afraid to step outside of your logical enclosure once and awhile. You may be happily surprised with the results, my son.”

“Did you ever-” Geralt bit his tongue, considered his words, and then continued, “Did you ever regret your decision to stay with Mother?”

“Once,” Korin admitted. “Only once, and it was the day after you were born. She held you in her arms only long enough to feed you and then she handed you to the nursemaid without another word. Not even a parting kiss for her newborn child. Then I remembered her lineage, the way she’d been brought up - without even a scrap of affection - and I forgave her. I loved her all the more after that, to make up for the tenderness she hadn’t gotten to experience when she needed it most…”

Geralt felt an unfamiliar heat behind his eyes and reached up to wipe away a tear. He glared down at the glistening drop of moisture; it clung to the tip of his finger almost desperately, forcing him to confront the emotions he worked so hard to hide during his waking hours. His chest ached. His lungs burned. This felt more real than a dream, more solid and weighty than any subconscious urging.

“Let yourself love him, Geralt,” Korin said as he began to fade from sight, “Don’t argue yourself out of your own happiness. Don’t let yourself be held back by tradition. Not in the face of an emotion so wonderful it could change the way you see the lights outside your starship windows. Free your mind, my son, and your heart will follow.”

With Korin’s ghostly warning thus issued, Geralt sat straight up in bed. He gasped for breath, clutching at his chest - the tacky wetness of half-dried tears on his cheeks was a totally foreign sensation.

Jaskier was at the forefront of his mind, as if the Counselor had been caught on repeat in the Vulcan’s thoughts.

Geralt pictured the way the younger man’s blue eyes sparkled when he laughed. The way Jaskier’s hips swayed enchantingly as meandered his way through Ten Forward or down the starship’s plain beige halls. The way his hair fell just so over his forehead and around his ears. The way he made everyone feel comfortable and safe in their own skin when he was near, an accidental byproduct of both his empathic powers and cheerful personality.

With every little detail Geralt remembered about Jaskier, he felt his human emotions growing stronger and more easy to define. He sorted through them by name in an odd and stringently Vulcan attempt to calm himself down: Lust. Adoration. Excitement. Jealousy. Happiness. Confusion. Anticipation.

Perhaps, though he was still too nervous to fully accept or analyze it yet, Love.

Geralt remained awake all through the night as he attempted to understand and accept the feelings he’d spent his entire life desperately trying to evade.

Still, as a beam of artificial sunlight projected down from the ceiling to spread across his pillow at 06:00, Commander deRiv found himself smiling at the idea that he’d be joining the Counselor on the holodeck later that afternoon, joy blooming hot and comforting at the center of his chest.

It was a sensation he wouldn’t mind getting used to.

Stardate 47648.47

Commander deRiv spent two impossibly long weeks tutoring Counselor Pankratz for the Bridge Officers’ test. The stubborn Counselor insisted that his senior officer refer to him only as “Jaskier” and in turn only referred to the Commander by his first name, the word “Geralt” falling from Jaskier’s lips with such musical normalcy that it nearly felt affectionate.

The time he spent working as Jaskier’s devoted tutor were two of the most tortuous and wonderful weeks of Geralt’s extensive Vulcan lifetime. At the end of the final day of pre-test training courses, Jaskier asked Geralt to meet him for dinner at Ten Forward to celebrate. “I’ve never gone through the promotional system this way and it’s really quite thrilling. I owe you so many favors, dearest Geralt.”

“Hmm.”

“I can feel how proud you are of me,” Jaskier teased, his fingers brushing against Geralt’s shoulder in a casual gesture of affection. The Counselor had grown more comfortable around the Science Officer but still refused to let his touches linger for more than a few seconds at a time. The contact never included full embraces, either; a fact which seemed to grow more bothersome to Geralt with every passing day. The Counselor’s eyebrows crinkled together and his hand fell back to his side, “I suddenly sense an anger in you, a frustration that wasn’t present just before. Are you feeling alright, Commander?”

Commander.

The word struck Geralt in the center of the chest like a Romulan phaser blast, knocking the breath from his lungs. Jaskier hadn’t called him Geralt, musical and sweet and blissfully normal, but Commander. The senior officer reigned in his feelings, slipping back into the comfortable apathy of his Vulcan breeding.

“I’m alright,” Geralt replied smoothly. “I fear that I have not done your training justice; I apologize that I allowed my control to slip. I did not mean for you to experience the brunt of any such negative feelings, Cou- Jaskier.”

A slight smile returned to the Betazoid’s face and his cheeks flushed. Clearly Geralt had made the right decision by ignoring his instinct to use Jaskier’s full title. “I was just worried about you, that’s all.”

“Worried?” Geralt’s eyebrows furrowed again. “About me? Why?”

“Because I care about you.” Jaskier brushed his hand against the back of Geralt’s again, feather-light and far too quick to provide any satisfaction to Geralt’s endless yearning. “Anyway, I can’t sense them anymore, now.”

“I… handled them.”

“You can just turn your feelings on and off like a lightswitch?” Jaskier inquired, genuine curiosity strong in his tone. “They disappeared so quickly.”

“Hmm,” Geralt acknowledged, nodding solemnly. “Historically, emotional control is one of the greatest achievements of Vulcan society. We do not allow our feelings to affect our decisions. We are purely logical, even when parts of our culture appear... otherwise.”

“I am from a very different type of society myself,” Jaskier shrugged. “But I’m sure you know enough about Betazed to understand what I mean. Now, about that dinner?”

They ordered their respective meals from the tableside replicator and chatted as they ate, discussing a wide range of topics. Eventually they landed on: “Vulcan poetry! I’d love to hear some, if you’ve got anything memorized!”

Geralt gave a decent recitation of his favorite childhood poem - the nonsensical story of a young man who could speak to the stars - and watched as Jaskier’s eyes grew round. He knew this expression to be one of adoration or wonder, but he could not sense emotions, and could not parse out the Counselor’s exact reaction. Instead he asked: “Yourself?”

“Betazed has many great poets,” Jaskier mused. “But they’re always so truthful about everything. There’s no mystery in our art, no room for subjective interpretation. I like poems with nuance and insecurity and feeling. I can’t recite it because the written formatting is so integral to its message, but ‘How Do I Love You’ by the renowned human poet Mary Oliver always tangles my heart around itself like a web of yarn. To end the poem with ‘no more words now’ and no punctuation is… enlightening.”

Geralt nodded, adding that information to the bank of details he knew about Counselor Pankratz. “Her work sounds fascinating.”

“Perhaps I could show you my volume of her collected poetry? I’d love to hear your thoughts on the subject.”

“I would be honored,” Geralt nodded, standing from the table and gesturing for Jaskier to lead the way. Counselor Pankratz stood and took Geralt’s hand in his own, interlacing their fingers as casually as anything.

The Commander startled and yanked his arm back without thinking, his mind reeling from the intimacy of such an embrace. Hand touching was… it was… what Jaskier had just done on instinct was far more intimate than anything Geralt had experienced before. The half-Vulcan’s emotions were running wildly away from his firm control.

Jaskier’s face crumpled when he registered Geralt’s rejection and he took a step back. “Oh, my apologies, Commander. I’m sincerely sorry for whatever offense I have committed.”

“It’s not an offense it’s just that-” Geralt took a deep breath to steady himself “-touching hands is not something a Vulcan does casually. It is a very meaningful and personal gesture on my planet.”

“That particular detail of your heritage slipped my mind in my excitement,” the Counselor bowed shallowly, his pretty blue shawl nearly slipping off one slender shoulder. “My continued apologies, Commander. I hope you can forgive me.”

“It was an accident,” Geralt replied. “And there is nothing to forgive. It pleases me that you were comfortable enough to treat me as a friend, Jaskier.”

“You called me by my name! That means you must forgive me. Now, are you still interested in seeing those poems?”

Geralt smiled, that warm joyful feeling spreading out through his limbs once again at the sight of Jaskier’s giddy grin. “Lead the way.”

Stardate 47653.52

Jaskier squared his shoulders and leaned over one of the Engineering monitors, “Computer, load Bridge Officer's test, Engineering qualification section one.”

“Computer ready.”

“Run programme.”

Lambert spoke up from beside him, the colors on his monitor flashing and shifting: “The control system for the primary containment field is not functioning.”

Geralt’s head snapped up and he locked eyes with Jaskier. “Something's severed the ODN conduit between here and the antimatter storage deck.”

Jaskier realized what was happening and felt a rush of icy anxiety down the length of his spine. “Geralt, could you repair the ODN conduit if you used the crawlspace between decks?”

Lambert frowned. “Sir, that crawlway is in a warp-plasma shaft. He would never survive the radiation.”

“I know that,” Jaskier snapped, trying to keep a level head. Even if this was just a simulation, he hated the idea of sending Geralt to his death. It was the most horrifying thought in the universe, but Geralt was the only one whose expertise could save the ship. And the hundreds of others aboard that ship. “Still, I’m afraid that particular information doesn’t change anything. Geralt, can you repair the conduit?”

The Science Officer nodded once, his face as unmoving as ever. “Yes, Sir.”

“Then do it. That's an order.”

Geralt grabbed a toolbox off the table, turned, and ducked into one of the Jeffries tubes that led to the crawl ducts.

Lambert laughed with glee as he slapped his hand down over one of the glowing instructional panels. “End simulation! Well, Officer Pankratz, I’d like to be the first to offer my official congratulations on your new promotion. You passed!”

Jaskier breathed shakily and smiled over at Geralt, who had returned to his position at the secondary control panel. “That's what this was all about, wasn't it? To see if I could order someone to their death. Someone… Someone I care about.”

Geralt nodded. “That's right.”

“I know that sacrifice is part of being in command and I thought I was prepared for it, but when the moment came... I hesitated. Maybe I shouldn’t have applied in the first place. I don’t know that I could ever hurt y- uh, hurt a fellow crew member, even in an emergency situation.”

“You did exactly what you had to do,” Geralt intoned, taking Jaskier gently by the hand. Jaskier gasped at the gesture, knowing exactly what kind of cultural lines Geralt was crossing for a Vulcan. Lambert disappeared from the room, finally showing his gentlemanly side, and Geralt continued in his low gravelly voice: “You considered all your options, tried every alternative, and then made the hardest but most logical choice a good Captain can make. Now, let's get out of here, Commander. Let me take you to Ten Forward to celebrate.”

Geralt had turned to make for the door but Jaskier tugged him back again, keeping both of his own feet planted firmly on the carpet. “Wait a moment, please?”

Geralt slowly spun to face Jaskier, one of his slanted eyebrows raised in curiosity. “Yes, Commander?”

“Stop calling me that,” Jaskier landed a limp-wristed slap to the Science Officer’s chest with his free hand. Geralt felt the urge to smile and allowed himself the indulgence; it was well worth the sunny grin that Jaskier gave him in return. “Anyway, Officer deRiv… There’s something I need to tell you.”

“I like you, too.”

“This may sound odd but I’m a highly emotional being and I- Wait, what?”

“You are incredibly sweet, Counselor Pankratz, and very kind. You care deeply for those around you and always do your best to help them find peace for themselves. I find those to be admirable traits, logically appealing in a mate, and I also find you… rather pretty.”

Jaskier’s eyes were nebulas, two sparkling pools of endless blue that twinkled and shone as if filled with the very stars themselves. Geralt’s heart raced as he brought their linked hands up and brushed his warm lips against the back of Jaskier’s knuckles. The Betazoid bit his lip, flushed an even deeper pink, and whispered his request: “May I kiss you, Imzadi?”

“We’re already kissing,” Geralt glanced down at their joined hands.

“According to Vulcans, yes,” Jaskier’s smile widened. “But may I kiss you according to my traditions?”

“Yes,” Geralt agreed, leaning forward to meet Jaskier halfway. The newly minted Commander released Geralt’s hand in order to tangle his fingers in the taller man’s silvery hair. He kissed Geralt with everything he had, pushing his feelings across the difference in their telepathic wavelengths, desperate to make himself clear. Make himself known.

When they pulled apart for air, Geralt was grinning. “Kissing for such a long time is completely illogical…”

Jaskier felt his heart drop into his shoes.

And then Geralt’s hands were on his waist, pulling him in again, rumbling laughter carrying the Vulcan’s next words, “Do it again!”

[iguana-braces]

Top Gun Star Trek AU Headcannons

Okay here are some of my ideas for the Top Gun Star Trek AU, in my own opinion based mostly on the Kelvin Timeline and my childhood memories of TOS and TNG (Haven’t seen Discovery, Lower Decks, or Picard yet, I’m bad watching things in a timely manner)

After being a Captain for a while, then working his way up through the ranks, Ice would be one of the Admirals (i.e Pike in the Kelvin timeline) who continues to bend the rules to let Maverick and the gang do whatever they want

I think Maverick and Goose would have a very Kirk/Bones relationship (original series and Kelvin timeline tbh) in their youth, Maverick as the bold first officer/captain and Goose holding a majority share of their one brain cell as a medical or science officer

Rooster is also very Kelvin!Kirk Coded (dead dad, trying to prove himself, etc) but he’s also more cautious than overtly cocky, so I’m thinking maybe he’d be a first officer (maybe he’d be Mav’s first officer!!!!)

OMG the hijinks they’d get into 

I’m thinking they’d be on an exploratory ship, a 5-year mission and whatnot, discovering new shit, getting into trouble, etc. 

Also, with the hair and the tan, Rooster would look so good in those little blue suits from Enterprise

I’m talking about these bad boys

Okay so Hangman is definitely Kelvin!Kirk Coded for the exact opposite reasons as Rooster. He’s cocky, he has an Ego, he can’t keep his mouth shut for his own good. He’d want his own ship ASAP. 

I think he’d be more likely on a military ship, rather than doing the whole *science, exploration* thing, but “Boldly going where no man has gone before” does have a nice ring to it. But Hangman would FUCK with something like the USS Vengance from Into Darkness (2013) (it’s the biggest, it’s the baddest, it’ll kill you dead)

And Bob is definitely Chekov Coded (pour one out for Anton Yelchin my love). He’d be either science or weapons, something techie that makes you think “Wow what a nerd” and he’s so overlooked, but he actually does really cool badass stuff sometimes and then you’re like “.... Is it suddenly really hot in here or is it just me?”

I’m gonna be late for work now so I’ll add more for everyone else later but I hope you enjoy my new micro-fixation!

[prue84]

Star Trek AUs + Crews AUs |  Rule 63, AOS edition [new version]

Senior crew and additional main crew of the U.S.S Enterprise from a genderbend alternate timeline.

“To boldly go where no one has gone before”

Ship’s Name: U.S.S. Enterprise Ship’s Registry: NCC-1701 Command History: Captain Jean T. Kirk (?-PRESENT) << incomplete data >> Ship’s Class: Constitution Class Ship’s Type: Heavy Cruiser Status: Active (2261.234) Timeline Name: Parallel Lives Timeline Details: Opposite biological characteristics to original USS Enterprise crew. Annotations: Admiral Pike's counterpart is still alive. Encounter date: 2261.234 (USS Enterprise) Encounter location: Unmapped. Encounter cause: Temporal anomaly ("temporal knot"). Region of phenomenon charted and signaled. Crew complement: 1,094 (1,100) Crew (cast) manifest: _

Liaison officer: Admiral Christine Pike --- Jamie Lee Curtis

Commanding officer: Captain Jean T. Kirk --- Scarlett Johansson

First officer and Chief science officer: Commander T'Pock --- Natalie Dormer

Chief medical officer: Lieutenant Commander Leonore H. McCoy --- Holly Marie Combs

Chief engineer and Second officer: Lieutenant Commander Moira Scott --- Annie Wersching

Chief communications officer: Lieutenant Kijani Uhura --- DB Woodside

Senior helmsman and Third officer: Lieutenant Hikari Sulu --- Grace Park

Chief navigator and Tactical officer: Ensign Pavla A. Chekova --- Ellen Paige

Engineer: Lieutenant Keensera

Security chief: Lieutenant Commander G.P. Hendorff --- Gina Carano

Chief armory and tactical systems officer: Lieutenant Charles Marcus --- Ryan Gosling

Navigator: Lieutenant Matthew Darwin --- Morris Chestnut

Transporter chief: Lieutenant Kirsteen Kyle --- Orla Brady

Security area chief: Lieutenant Hata

Chief computer systems officer: Lieutenant 0178 --- Tilda Swinton

Senior medical officer: Doctor Gimbya M'Benga --- Kerry Washington

Head nurse: Nurse Chris Chapel --- Simon Baker

Helmsman and Tactical officer: Lieutenant Grace Mitchell --- Katie McGrath

Computer systems officer: Lieutenant junior grade Kai --- Chris Evans

USS Enterprise mainframe conduit: Lieutenant junior grade 1701 --- Jonathan Rhys Meyers

Captain's yeoman: Petty officer John Rand --- Charlie Hunnam

(More AOS Trek genderbent here)

Update: It has been brought to my attention that the actress who once went by the name Ellen has come out and now goes by he/they under the chosen name Elliot. This fancasting was picked in 2016, when this piece was put together and originally published, and does reflect who Elliot went by at the time (she/Ellen). For these reasons, I won't cancel or remake this manip with another fancasting, but I felt the note was necessary to acknowledge that this fancasting couldn't work anymore and I would pick another actress if I were to make it in 2021. This might be a good reason to headcanon Pavla as coming out and becoming Pavel in a time after this (fake) pic was supposed to be taken. ;)

———————————————————————————————

Editing chronicles This edit has been retouched more than the Star Wars original trilogy by George Lucas. *lol* All the changes were made to reflect editing I made on the main AOS crew edit. The edit was initially posted in August 2016. slightly lightly edited in December 2020 (when I changed the graphics) and then another time in February 2021 (logo changed and two new characters - 0718 and Moto - added). One last time in July 2021 (two missing characters - Darwin and Kyle). I held this edit until now because I wanted to post it after releasing the new, final version of the main AOS crew but, since I can’t seem to manage to finish the text that will go along with that, I decided to stop waiting with this one. So here we are. Edit: one last, and I mean LAST time (heard me, Hakka??!), in early March 2022 (published March 06), when I completely revamped the graphic to try to make these edit a bit shorter when there's a big crew cast (to then discover Tumblr has upped the max height size to 3072 -.-).

If you really, really want to see it, you find the original version here.

———————————————————————————————

About the names Keensera is the name for the female Kenseer in "Parallel lives" (Star Trek #29/#30). I decided that, in a world where the "canon" sex of everyone is swapped, then perhaps Gaila's mother would've picked the same names for her children and just switched them. Gaila's and her brother Kai appear in "Reunion" (Star Trek 53/54); in the end of this comic Gaila applied to be transferred on the USS Enterprise (where her brother serves).

Lieutanant Moto was named to an homage after the make-up effects sculptor Moto Hata, the man who designed the alien/mask and passed away in 2009. For the alien's female version, I chose to switch to the artist's surname. I explained the meaning of the other crew members' names at their manips: you can find them under the series tag or under the character's own tag.

———————————————————————————————

Crossposted Livejournal: prue84.livejournal.com/55830.html Dreamwidth: prue84.dreamwidth.org/51039.html Deviantart: prue84.deviantart.com/art/Star-Trek-AUs-Rule-63-AOS-version-628851741

[linafication]

tally hall star trek au. can you do anything with that?

OHOHOHOGOHOHOHOHO YES I FCUKIGN CAN!!!

ok so this is mostly based off of star trek original series/next generation because those are my favorites :}

so rob would be the captain of the enterprise, and as usual, just a Human Guy from earth. he’d have his shit very not together (like most captains) he’d be super obsessed with the the whole ooooo adventure! discovery! new things! boldly go where no one has gone before! kind of thing that oops! no common sense

zubin would be the chief medical officer since I’m not creative shfksdjksd. he’ll be an uhhhhhh betazoid (hehe telepathy) he’s gonna be kinda like if dr mccoy could actually have fun, so like he Knows Things but is also Dumbass and Will Insult You (affectionate). all my homies love star trek zubin sedghi

ross would be kinda like spock (first officer & half vulcan) but he’d be a lot more in touch with his human half so like. Emotional but will still go into Full On Logic Mode whenever people try & mess with him. he’s usually gonna be the one to get rob out of trouble (and probably right into more trouble)

andrew would be the navigation officer guy & a bajoran because why not! he’s really friendly but Will Not Hesitate to Fcuk You Up if you’re acting wack (derogatory) he’s best friends with zubin & they wreak havoc together (good for them)

joe’s the fcuked up security officer. he’s also a borg (messed up cyborg guys) he’s angsty & kinda mean but found family Will Happen >:] also he’s really good friends with rob because hell yeah why not

bora & casey are both from the q continuum (omnipotent entities that Woke Up & Chose Chaos) bora would be a bit younger & more irresponsible & really loves to mess with the enterprise crew (like q in tng) & casey was sent by the continuum to stop bora from fuckign around more so they sorta have this reluctant mentor & young bastard force of chaos dynamic. the storyline is basically bora messing with the enterprise crew & basically irritating the fuck out of all of them in an endearing way until they all become friends while casey is just trying & failing to keep bora out of trouble, getting himself caught up in all this & becoming friends with the enterprise crew as well :}

[punkpoemprose]

December 3rd- To Boldly Go

Universe: 1990′s AU/ Star Trek Convention AU Rating: G (General audiences, cleavage as a plot point but otherwise it’s a meetcute) Length: 3107

A/N: Thanks so much to @karis-the-fangirl for the idea to do a Trekkie convention for the 90′s AU. I actually got really into TNG around the same time I got into Frozen, so this was a fun callback for me. Also as a sidenote, this fic involves side Elsamaren, because meddling siblings and their equally as troublemaking significant others are always fun for me to write!

You don’t need to know a lot about Star Trek to get this fic, but you’ll get a kick out of it sooner if you do know at least a bit about Star Trek: The Next Generation.

Anna tugged up on her collar, trying to keep her top from plunging quite as low as it had. She was having some regrets when it came to her choice to dress up for the convention. She’d been so excited by the possibility to be like her favorite character for the day that she’d forgotten that Counselor Troi was clearly much more comfortable showing off her decolletage than she was, and was now paying the price for that as she walked around the convention center with her sister and her girlfriend.

They had made the better choices of dressing in general Star uniforms and were making a particularly cute and comfortable couple of science officers. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched them out of the corner of her eye, Honeymaren was helping re-pin Elsa’s Starfleet pin and Elsa was smiling at her like she’d hung the stars. A part of Anna was a bit jealous. While she was, of course, thrilled for her sister to have found someone who made her happy, she also wished that she’d be so lucky in love.

“Having issues with your uniform Deanna?” Elsa asked when she took note of Anna tugging her top up again.

“No more than you are,” Anna grumped, trying and failing to play it off like it was nothing.

She had been so excited when the convention had been announced. She’d never really considered herself the nerdy type, but as soon as she saw her first episode of Star Wars: The Next Generation she’d been hooked. That her sister had been willing to watch it as well had given them something to bond over after years of not having very much in common. This convention had been the ultimate way for her to enjoy the show and to meet other fans, but she just couldn’t stop thinking about how this wasn’t at all what she had planned.

When the announcement was made, she’d immediately gone to the nearest box office to her that was selling tickets and picked up three. One for her, one for Elsa, and one for her now ex-boyfriend. Honeymaren was just filling in so that the ticket purchase wouldn’t be a waste. She of course liked the show too, but hadn’t been watching it for years like they had, her fascination with it being a much more recent development.

She was glad that it had actually developed though, given that after Elsa had come out to Anna and introduced her to her girlfriend, they had needed something other than Elsa to talk about. Hans, her ex, had only feigned an interest, and like many other parts of their relationship, he’d not paid any attention to it.  

“You do look great though, just so you know.”

Honeymaren offered the compliment without any hint of placation. She wasn’t saying it because she thought Anna needed to hear it, she was saying it because she meant it. It was one of the things that Anna appreciated most about her sister’s girlfriend. She was honest, sometimes to the point of accidental injury to others not so versed in her frankness, but Anna was always glad to know exactly where she stood with her, and she thought that after the many years Elsa had spent second guessing everything, she deserved someone whose love she would never have to doubt.

“Thanks Honey,” she replied, “I’m sorry I’m being such a bummer.”

Elsa shrugged, “You’re usually Ms. Mary Sunshine Anna, you’re allowed a sad day. Just let us know what we can do. I know we both want you to enjoy the convention.”

“You can find me a Riker,” Anna teased, already feeling better knowing that she could enjoy the convention in the company of people who cared about her. And who, she was certain, would keep her from having an accidental nip slip.

***

Kristoff had been happy enough to take some of his siblings to the Star Trek convention they’d been talking about for weeks. He hadn’t really known what to expect, but when it came to his brothers and sisters he couldn’t really deny them anything. Well, at least he couldn’t deny them anything reasonable. They had asked him to dress up as Spock, and that was, ultimately where he drew the line.

They had begged and pleaded, but as much as he liked Spock, and generally enjoyed watching the Original Star Trek series with them, he didn’t really consider himself the dress-up type beyond his little sisters sticking him in a tutu here and there.

“Krissy!” his sister Crystal called, tugging on his hand, “Come on, there’s going to be a panel in a minute about how to make your own tribble!”

He huffed but smiled down at her. “How about you go grab Ben and Gemma from the merchandise table over there and head on over without me. If you promise to stay together you can go by yourselves and I’ll go figure out something for lunch.”

She grinned and then took off toward her other two older siblings. He could tell she was giddy about the trust he was placing in her and couldn’t help but feel glad that despite their high energy, his siblings were very good kids. Crystal was the youngest at nine, and then Gemma was the eldest excluding him at fourteen. Ben was smack dab in the middle at twelve, and while they still needed a chaperone to go to such a big event, he knew that he could trust them on their own for a little while. Especially because they’d be sitting.

He’d been adopted when he was five because his parents thought that they couldn’t have kids. That had seemed to be true for a little over a year until they discovered that they were expecting Gemma, and from there Kristoff never had a moment of silence to himself. It was a blessing of sorts, to go from no family to a small family, to having three younger siblings who loved him unconditionally.

It was worth all the diaper changes when they were small and now it was worth taking them on trips on his days off. His parents always appreciated the help, but really he enjoyed it more than they needed it.

As he watched them run off, Gemma holding Crystal’s hand and Ben following directly behind, he turned off the path of the convention floor and found a pillar to lean against. He just needed a minute to breathe before he went to find lunch for the kids. As much as he loved spending time with them, he wasn’t fond of the crowded convention space. It was too many people for his taste, and while he did enjoy the show, he didn’t really know much about the newest incarnation and that seemed to be most of what was highlighted at the booths and panels. He didn’t particularly have the urge or interest to investigate, but he did need a break, and he would take it where he could.

***

“Oh my gosh,” Honeymaren exclaimed, taking Elsa and Anna both my surprise.

Elsa tried to look in the direction that Honeymaren had been, but Anna watched as she quickly turned her to the side with a tug on her hand.

“Don’t look!” She chided.

“Look at what?” Anna asked, feeling just as confused as her sister looked.

She was quickly shushed and then Honeymaren grabbed her hand and dragged both her and Elsa off the show floor’s path and into a lull area by a merchandise table.

“What?” Elsa asked her girlfriend once she seemed to have settled from the whiplash of being dragged away from where they’d just been walking.

“Okay, keep your voice down, and don’t be obvious.”

“Obvious about what?” Anna asked, feeling like she’d fallen into an episode of Star Trek and some alien with an inability to explain its actions had taken over her sister’s girlfriend.

She gestured to the side, nodding her head in the direction of a pillar filled empty space off the show floor. It was near the hallway entrance that lead to the panel rooms, and Anna didn’t notice anything at first except for the fact that many people in and out of costume were resting in the space. She saw a Worf standing off to the side talking to a redshirt, an Uhura checking her lipstick in a hand mirror, three kids heading toward the panel hall together, and a handful of aliens eating snacks or sitting on the floor with their backs to pillars.

“What? Do you see Wil Wheaton or something?”

He was the only actor that was particularly close to their ages that was potentially coming to the convention and Anna knew that Elsa found him particularly charming on the show. There was probably a kinship for her in his character, a young kid who suddenly has to deal with the death of a parent and who is constantly trying to find his place.

“No, against the pillar, don’t be obvious.”

She was giggling now, and after a moment so did Elsa.

“Oh.”

“Oh what?” Anna replied still trying to scan the pillars, being quite obvious probably, to figure out what the two other women were looking at and giggling over.

“Oh.”

She spotted him after a moment. Tall, broad and handsome, leaning against a post with a short beard and a black turtleneck.

“You told us to find you a Riker,” Honeymaren said gleefully, “Well there you are.”

“I mean, he’s blonde and not in uniform, but she’s got a point Anna.”

She did, in fact, have a point. If one took a moment to slap a Starfleet uniform on him he’d make a pretty convincing Commander Will Riker. Except of course his blondness, but given that she was a red-haired Deanna Troi, she supposed that could be excused.

“You have to go talk with him,” Honeymaren said, seeming very convinced that it would be a good idea despite Anna, who normally considered herself an optimist, already forming doubts to how that would work out.

Anna looked to Elsa for assistance, but she was just smiling at her sister sheepishly, as if silently wishing her good luck. Honeymaren had a firm belief that things happened for a reason, one that had only been reinforced when she and Elsa had accidentally got trapped in an elevator together for three hours which was certainly the strangest meeting she’d ever heard of for a couple.

“I couldn’t. I mean, he looks like he wants to be left alone, and…”

“And nothing,” Honeymaren said, pushing her towards the pathway again, intending fully to make her cross it and walk over to the not-costume-wearing-Riker-like-gentleman leaning against the post.

Anna tried to turn back, but if there was one thing that her sister’s girlfriend and the Borg had in common it was that once they had a plan for you, resistance was futile.

***

“Uh… hi!”

Kristoff opened his eyes. He’d been taking a moment to decompress while his siblings were in their panel and had all but forgotten for a second, other than the loud noises of chatter and phaser sound effects, that he was in the middle of a room full of people.

He wasn’t sure who he expected to see when his eyes opened, but it was not a beautiful redhead with her cleavage on display right in his sightline. He flushed and averted his eyes, trying to burn away the mental image of freckled breasts that within a half a second were already lodged deep into his memories.

“Can I, uh…” he met her eyes and forced himself to maintain contact, “Can I help you?”

She flushed in return and he thought for a moment that she might have thought that he was someone else and had approached him by accident or something. It had never happened to him, but there was, of course, a first time for everything.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” she said, sounding sheepish, “But uh, do you see those two girls across the way? The blonde and the brunette? That’s my sister and my friend.”

Not really sure where any of this was going, Kristoff awkwardly raised a hand to wave to the two women who were watching their exchange with interest. The brunette waved back, but the blonde, realizing they’d been caught, or more accurately ratted out, flushed and covered her face with her hand.

“They well… they think they’re funny and because you look kind of like Will Riker they told me to come over and talk to you. Stupid, I know.”

She had him until Will Riker. He thought that maybe he was an actor he didn’t know about or something. His Trek knowledge really was limited to just what his siblings had him watch, so he didn’t know much about anything else.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know who that is, but you’ve got the wrong guy.”

“Oh,” the girl said looking nervous and turning redder by the minute, “I didn’t mean I thought you were him I mean obviously… wait.”

She gave him a serious look for a moment, then continued.

“You’re at a Star Trek convention and you don’t know who Commander William Riker is?”

The accusatory tone to her voice almost made him nervous, like she was going to call the convention police on him or something.

“Uh, is he from The Next Generation?”

She nodded then, looking a bit confused still, but also a bit satisfied.

“I’m sorry, I’ve never watched it. I’ve only seen parts of the Original. Mostly I’m here watching my younger siblings. They’re in a panel.”

He didn’t know why he was telling her that. It didn’t really matter after all, there were no Star Trek convention police who were coming to kick him out for not knowing enough about the show. Yet he told he anyway, maybe because she was clearly in this situation under duress, or maybe because he’d stared at her cleavage and felt that he owed her for it, even if it was unintentional.

“Oh,” she said, “Well, um… that’s nice of you. I’m so sorry I bothered you. I’m sure you can understand siblings trying to talk you into things…”

He nodded. He did get it.

“You know, they tried to get me to dress up as Spock. Not Kirk, Spock. I had to tell them no, but it was a battle anyway, so I get it. And, uh, also… you weren’t really bothering me.”

“Oh, that’s nice of you to say. But I just interrupted your sibling break. I wish I could catch one of those, but if I walk away on my own I know those two are going to follow me anyway. Also, if your younger siblings watch Next Generation they’ll want you to be Riker next time.”

“Would they follow you if we walked to the café together?”

He didn’t know why he asked. He didn’t even know this girl’s name, but she seemed nice and he was starting to get a bit of a sense that she might be a kindred spirit. Clearly, he thought, she was a much more social kindred spirit, but someone he thought he might like to talk to nevertheless.

She flushed again and he was trying to think of how to backpedal when she answered, “Probably, but they might leave after a little bit. I’m their ride so they’d need to find me eventually, but it might be nice to spend a second alone… or alone together I guess. Until your little siblings get out of their panel that is.”

He nodded, and let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He wondered if she would let him buy her lunch. Because of the cleavage staring thing of course, to fix his karma, nothing at all to do with the fact that his treacherous brain was already filing away the details of her smile and ascribing labels to them like “cute” and “beautiful” which he rarely if ever did. He was the sort of person that fell in love with a personality before he did with looks, but he had to admit he wanted the opportunity to get to know her a little better.

“Oh!” she said, “And I’m Anna by the way… or Counselor Deanna Troi if you don’t want my real name. You don’t watch the show so you probably wouldn’t have known that anyway.”

She let out an awkward little laugh, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m Kristoff,” he replied, “Just, uh Kristoff. I could’ve been Spock though, or I guess this Riker guy. Why did they think you should come talk to me anyway? I mean I get it’s because I look like the character, but is he important or something?”

He saw her blush brighten before she shook her head and took off towards the hallway that would lead them to the café. He followed behind and realized suddenly that he really needed to watch The Next Generation.

***

“What do you think?” Honeymaren asked, flapping a polaroid in her hand.

“You’re not supposed to shake them you know,” Elsa teasingly chided, “It says so on the package and everything.”

“Well I just wanted to make sure quickly that it was a good photo,” she explained, “I mean it’s their first date after all, I want to make sure we have pictures to show your future nieces and nephews.”

Elsa chuckled, “You’re always so sure of these things, aren’t you?”

She took the photo from her girlfriend’s hands and couldn’t help but grin when she saw that despite the distance, you could clearly tell that Anna-Deanna and her mystery not-Riker were smiling at each other and blushing in a way that very much indicated that Honeymaren was right to send Anna over to him.

“Of course, I mean this one was just too easy. I mean I know he wasn’t in costume, but he does look like Riker, and Anna makes a good Troi even if she’s a redhead and since those two are getting married in the show, we might as well assume our real life analogs will get there too.”

Elsa shoved the photo into her canvas bag, tucking it between a zine and a headshot of Wil Wheaton as Wesley Crusher. Anna would, no matter the outcome, probably want it later for the memory. She only had to hope, grabbing Honeymaren’s hand, that her girlfriend’s romantic sense was as good for others as it had been for them.

“Come on,” she said with a sigh, “Lets stalk them to the foodcourt.”

[archersxartxblog]

fuck it i’m quitting that freaking drawing challenge...just getting stressful now and no one asked me to do it. I made it 11 days, normally I can’t make it pass day 1.

just wanna go back to drawing stupid stuff...

like a hlvrai Star Trek TNG AU

Staring

Bubby Captain of the Federation Star Ship Black Mesa

with this trusty crew

Commander Gordon Freeman

Lt Commander Coomer

Chief Engineer Tommy Coolatta 

Chief Secerity Officer Benrey (RIP Forzen)

and of course 

Cheif Potions Master Darnold

Boldly fucking going Where No one has fucking gone before

[musingsonbooks]

Star Trek: TOS vs 2009

I want to start off by saying; I don’t hate Star Trek 2009. The plot was interesting; I liked Chris Pine and Zachary Quinto, and I recognise that this is a whole new universe the writers were playing in—a licensed AU as it were.

But something was still missing for me. I’ve watched TOS multiple times over the years, all the way through, and I’ve watched Star Trek 2009 more than once and I have to say, it just doesn’t measure up.

I think I’ve finally figured out why. Star Trek 2009 just, doesn’t feel like Star Trek to me. Take the opening of TOS (and of course, later Star Trek shows):

Space: The final frontier These are the voyages of the Starship, Enterprise Its 5 year mission To explore strange new worlds To seek out new life and new civilizations To boldly go where no man has gone before

It’s clearly set up in the opening, that Star Trek is about exploration and discovery and learning more about the ever-expanding universe. The 1960s, when TOS was first aired, was the height of the Space Race, humanity pushing the limits of where we could go. There was no planet too far, no corner of the galaxy we shouldn’t try to investigate, and this is reflected by the show. It’s about learning, exploring—any conflict is secondary.

Rodenberry pushed boundaries for the time. He included a Russian man, an Asian man, a black woman, all of them in important positions on the ship. Uhura was an icon, Chekov was a beacon of hope in the midst of the Cold War. Again and again, TOS tries to depict humanity as united.

And Kirk, especially, is diplomatic. Kirk, who worked alongside the first (half) Vulcan in Starfleet, Kirk who was described as a ‘walking stack of books’, Kirk who was overall a calm and kind man.

These messages of unity, of diplomacy get lost in Star Trek 2009. Instead, what JJ Abrams produces is another mass market sci-fi film with characters who only resemble their original counterparts on a superficial level. Kirk becomes a jokester and a playboy, Spock becomes almost cruel in his aloofness. 

Both of them are weaker characters for it. Instead of a Spock who cries from his struggles, we get one willing to abandon a crewmate on a frozen wasteland. Instead of a Kirk who works through diplomacy, we get another action movie protagonist who cares more about putting on a show than finding a peaceful resolution.

Which means the plot is weaker too. There’s no unity, no diplomacy, no hope to be found in the resolution of Star trek 2009. Instead, we get a race demonised, Starfleet weakened, and an entire planet destroyed. Sure, Kirk and Spock end up friends, but there’s little warmth to be found in how the show ends. What is the message that Abrams is trying to send, where is he trying to boldly go? 

I don’t have an answer for those questions.

And it’s a shame. Star Trek The Original Series inspires me, despite being from the 60s, it’s a show I talk about regularly, one whose characters are still iconic and have stood the test of time. I can’t say the same about Star Trek 2009, despite it being a far more recent film. It’s filled with tired 2000′s tropes, misogyny, and characters with few saving graces. As a sci-fi film, 2009 is basic, as a Star Trek film it doesn’t live up to expectations.

[ao3feed-woodenovercoats]

by arboreal_overlords

Rudyard Funn, Antigone Funn, and Georgie Crusoe used to be the highest-ranking officers aboard the U.S.S. Piffling. They aren’t anymore.

Words: 4253, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Wooden Overcoats (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Antigone Funn, Georgie Crusoe, Rudyard Funn, Eric Chapman, Mayor Desmond Desmond

Relationships: Eric Chapman/Rudyard Funn

Additional Tags: Stark Trek AU - Freeform, Enemies to Lovers, Captain Eric, Science Officer Rudyard, CMO Antigone, Chief Engineer Georgie, Going Boldly Where No Coffin Has Gone Before, One of us is a proper Star Trek fan and one of us has seen literally one movie, Madeline is some sort of space otter