#andorian una

[curator-on-ao3]

Please everyone admire the Andorian Una that @emilie786 made for me and said I could post!!! 🥲🥲🥲

The backstory: I wrote a ficlet (from a prompt by @fiadorable) that included a disguised Una busting Chris out of an Orion slave market. With any alien disguise of the era possible, I chose for Una to be Andorian because @emilie786 loves Andorians (shout-out to her sideblog, @andorianicecave). So I made Una an Andorian for @emilie786, and @emilie786 made Una as an Andorian back for me using the excellent tool @star-trek-dumb-comics created and generously shared for everyone to use. AND THAT’S THE POWER OF FANDOM, PEOPLE! We listen and gift and lift each other up — and I love it! 💙💙💙

[nichestartrekkie0-0]

Yet another fluffy fic :))

Words: 3k 

Rating : PG TW- curse words and a mention of kidnapping at the end 

Summary: Based on Maternal Instinct on A03 by EmonyDeborah, Basically all the people on the bridge get turned into kids one by one, Hemmer freaks out. Aenar have a thing about protecting kids, so he takes it upon himself to make sure they’re alright. @unknownfaceless-ds9 for giving me the idea!

Excuse Me, That Would Be My Problem: 

Hemmer looked down at his captain, “Captain I-” 

He paused. 

Looked down?

Instinctively, he reached out and tapped Pike on the head. He was tiny, only to his waist. 

“Uh-” 

Chapel’s voice echoed through the hall.

“Hemmer! Good, you found him! Chris!” She snapped loudly, “Get back here!” 

Pike– or as Hemmer guessed– the child version of Pike started to make a run for it. He quickly turned to flee, but Hemmer simply picked him up and chuckled a bit. 

“Hey. Ou’ra. Calm down.” He smiled, “I won’t let the scary lady hurt you.” 

Pike, who seemed to be about seven years old, clutched Hemmer’s shirt and whispered, “She’s trying to give me a shot! I hate shots!” 

Shooting a glance to Chapel, Hemmer sighed heavily and pulled out his comm. Holding up a quick Aenar gesture to Chapel, he flipped it open. 

“Ensign Al-Khatib, I’m going to be a second. Take over in Engineering for me while I’m gone.” 

Al-Khatib spat something rapid-fire through the comm, obviously unhappy, as she was supposed to be working on something else. 

“Al-Khatib. Layla.” Hemmer exhaled, “Please? I have a situation up here.” 

She paused. 

“Alright.” She grumbled, “Next time though? Khlass!” 

Hemmer nodded, adjusting Pike on his hip, “Yes, next time I won’t ask.” 

Chapel pulled something out of her pocket and winced. “It’s a hypospray. He needs it. Also, I need a blood sample to try and figure out what happened.” 

Hemmer froze.

 “It didn’t have to be the transporter, did it?” 

“No.” Chapel groaned, “He was in the Captain’s chair, and then suddenly- poof! He’s seven again.” 

Pike– Chris– leaned away and looked up at Hemmer, “Please don’t! I hate shots!” 

“Pi- Chris.” Hemmer caught himself. “If you let her give you a shot…I’ll teach you how to curse in Aenaran.” 

Chris practically beamed up at him, eyes sparkling. “Really?! I can do that?!” He giggled and seemed to forget all about the scary lady with the needles. 

“Hemmer!” Chapel groaned, “Not helping!” 

“Christopher.” Hemmer adjusted Pike again. “Can she give you a shot?”

Chris groaned and held out his arm. “Ugh. Make it quick. I-”

“-Hate needles. Yes, I know.” Hemmer sighed. 

“Woah, how did you…?”

“Magic.” Hemmer smiled, “I’m Aenar.” 

Before Chris could look away from Hemmer, Chapel had already stuck him with the shot and taken his blood. Quick, precise, and professional; a Chapel specialty. 

“Ow!” Chris cried, jerking back a little. “You didn’t count down!”

Chapel winced, “It’s better to be surprised than to tense up. It’ll hurt more.”

After a bit of pouting and a quick cry, Chris started to bug Hemmer again about his promise. 

Hemmer held back another grin. He technically couldn’t teach Chris to curse– an Aenar taboo– but he could teach him schoolyard insults. 

When they got back to Medbay, M’Benga was waiting for them. He was obviously surprised when he saw Hemmer carrying Chris, but said nothing. 

“Ok, ok.” Hemmer set Chris down on the bio-bed. “Repeat after me; mave’o.” 

Chris fumbled a bit but managed to get the e’o right after a few tries.

“What’s that?” He asked, eyes wide. 

“A taunt kids use on the playground.” Hemmer scoffed, kneeling to be eye-level with him. “It means ‘weirdo’.”

“Hey! I want to learn how to curse!” Chris groaned, “You know! Like the f-word!”

“You can’t even say the ‘f-word’!” Hemmer chuckled, “Ok. I’ll give you three choices then; qass, ran’ran, and sugii. Only one of them is a curse, choose wisely.” 

Laughing, Chris chose ‘sugii’. 

“Ah!” Hemmer grinned, “You chose poorly! ‘Sugii’ means ‘sweetie’, or ‘sweet’.”

Chris kept complaining but sat down and was very brave as Doctor M’Benga took his vitals and a few more samples. He squirmed, but ultimately was a good patient. 

No small amount of thanks to Hemmer and Aenar fairy tales. 

Eventually, Chapel couldn’t hold her mouth shut any longer. 

“I thought you hated kids?”

“Who told you that?” Hemmer sighed, offering a small makeshift toy to Chris. The toy was mostly spare parts from Hemmer’s pockets and some magnets, but Chris didn’t care much. 

Chapel shifted, “Well…” She scoffed, “You don’t… seem like the type.”

Standing back up, Hemmer rolled his eyes. “Sure. I hate children and live in a shack in the woods, making potions and scaring off the peasantry.” 

“That’s not-”

Hemmer smiled, “Chapel. I am not immune to humor. I was being sarcastic.” 

“Oh!” Chris waved his hands, “My mom does that! She says that sarcasm is for grownups!”

Letting out a snort, Chapel ruffled his hair a bit. 

“Yeah, yeah kid. Whatever she says.”  

…

Hemmer was in the room when La’an changed. Chris was able to be fixed quickly, just some samples later and he was back to normal. 

The Security Chief, however, was also on the bridge when she changed. Unlike Pike, however, she wasn’t curious. 

She was frantic. 

Even worse, besides the crying and the general panicking of the small child, she wasn’t speaking English. 

Oh. This is just typical. 

Hemmer set down his phaser and pulled his knife out of his boot, tossing it to the side. Holding up his hands he winced. 

He hated broadcasting his thoughts, especially to children, but it was the only way to get his message across. Whatever La’an was speaking, he didn’t even know where to begin. 

It’s ok. You’re alright, I’m not going to hurt you.

La’an stopped crying for a second. Her thoughts were jumbled, but he managed to get a general gist. 

???!

He sighed. A general gist did not help with anything. Of course she was confused and scared. He would be too if he suddenly appeared in a scary place with a bunch of people he didn’t know looking down at him. 

You’re alright. I’m…psychic. I can talk in your head.

La’an’s face scrunched up. She had to have been no more than five. ‘Psychic’ and ‘magic’ were probably interchangeable words. 

Actually. That gave him an idea. 

Holding up his hands again, he scooched towards the small girl. 

I’m a wizard.

He smiled. “Look! I can do magic!” and promptly pulled a small magnet out of his pocket, making it ‘disappear’ behind his hand using an old college trick. He had no idea what ‘sleight of hand’ looked like– as Aenar could see objects clearly– but he knew it was easy enough to achieve. 

La’an’s eyes widened. She babled something in the language again, but this time Hemmer understood her. 

“(Magic)?” She asked. 

“Yes. Magic.” Hemmer reached out a hand. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

To his surprise and utter shock, she crawled right into his lap and started singing what sounded like a nursery rhyme. 

Although the language was foreign, the words somehow were familiar. She was singing about fairies and magic- something about a princess in a tower and a spindle of some kind. 

Hemmer sighed. He was sure La’an would be horrified upon transforming back to learn that she’d put on a performance for the bridge. He couldn’t imagine her singing at knife point, especially not for fun. 

Especially about whatever a ‘spindle’ was. 

“Alright.” He grunted, picking her up and stumbling to his feet. She wasn’t heavy at all, but Hemmer wasn’t exactly a ‘spring goose’ or whatever the hell the human phrase was. 

Point being, he wasn’t twenty anymore. 

La’an turned towards Una at the last second and looked up at Hemmer. 

“Can mom come too?” She asked. 

“Sure.” Hemmer gestured for Una to follow them, giving her a look as he said in English, “Mom can come too.” 

A little bewildered, Una followed the pair into the elevator and back to Medbay. 

…

“I think it’s contagious.” Hemmer grumbled, crawling into a jefferies tube. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Chapel snapped, “We’re figuring it out. I have no idea why it hasn’t happened to you yet.”

“Don’t jinx it.” He scoffed. 

Turning his head down the tube he called, “Una! Come back, please!”

“No!” She replied, spitting out some alien curse words as she did. 

Crawling in after her, he grumbled in his own mother tongue. An old, unbreakable, slightly embarrassing habit. 

After a second of following her, he realized that she would be coming to the end of the nearest tube. There would be a hatch that she couldn’t open without a code, and she’d be stuck. 

Something rubbed him wrong about cornering a sobbing Illyrian teenage girl in a maintenance pipe. 

“Una!” He called, “You’re going to get stuck, come back!” 

Banging and scrambling noises were his response. She had, apparently, met the end of the tube. 

“Una.” He stopped. 

“What am I?” He asked, “Do you know what I am?” 

The response came suddenly. 

“An Aenar.”

“Correct.” He nodded, “Which means?”

“You’re blind.”

Hemmer snorted. “Yes. The other thing?” 

“You’re psychic.”

“Correct. Which means that?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice cracked on the last word, echoing through the tube. 

Something in his chest tugged. Something cracked, chipped, and shattered a little. 

For a man of so many words and so much advice, he had nothing to say. How could he? He had never been hunted before. 

With a dry throat and a heavy heart, he said with a broken smile, “It means that I know. I’ve known.” 

He sighed heavily, “I know you’re Illyrian. I’ve known you were Illyrian the moment I stepped on this ship. Your kind has a certain wavelength to your brains.” 

A pause. The echo in the tube grew louder as time passed. 

He crawled forward a bit, until he could see Una a little ways in front of him. His smile turned more bitter. “I’m not going to hurt you. Do you know why?”

“No.”

“Because at the end of the day, you are not a monster. You are nothing that the Federation claims you to be. All I see is a little girl.” 

She sniffed loudly, wiping her eyes.  “But you can’t see.” 

“Let’s just say that it’s an expression… and that I crawled into the tubes after you because you’re deathly afraid of needles.” 

“I’m not-”

Hemmer scoffed, “Would you rather I tell the doctor why you really don’t want a blood sample?” 

Una shook her head. 

“Alright. You’re ok. You’re going to be ok.” Hemmer lied, wincing a little. 

He had no idea how he was going to cover up Una’s heritage from M’Benga. That man could sniff out a lie like a damn starving bloodhound. If he was to lie to anyone, he’d rather lie to Spock. 

At least with Spock he could pull the ‘alien solidarity’ card.

Una took his hand and they made their way back. As they crawled out of the tube, Hemmer pulled M’Benga aside. 

“Look.” He said darkly, “Is there any way you can do the procedure non-invasively? No blood samples or genetic material?”

M’Benga’s face fell into a disinterested mask, although Hemmer could clearly see that he was on edge. 

“Why?” The doctor snapped, a sudden sharpness in his voice. 

Something clicked. 

“You know, don’t you?” Hemmer asked. 

“...I do.”

“Chapel?”

“She does as well.” 

Hemmer sighed in relief, clutching the fabric of his uniform. “Oh, thank (Ahii’dii). I thought I was going to have to do something stupid.”

M’Benga’s brow furrowed. “What would you have done?”

“Great question.” Hemmer grinned sharply, “I have no idea.” 

…

Wangling Una was almost traumatic- an onslaught of terror and emotions. 

Spock, somehow, was worse. 

“Spock!” Hemmer skidded to a stop below a pipe. “(Get out of there)!” He cried in his very limited Vulcan. 

Spock responded evenly. 

“(I am fine. Mother says that I am able to handle such ventures.)”

“Do you have it in writing?!” Hemmer snapped, flipping open a panel and slamming a few buttons down. Without help, Spock would electrocute himself. 

Spock paused for a second. 

A second was all that Hemmer needed. 

Another lever was flipped, and the emergency hatch popped open. Spock fell about two feet before Hemmer caught him; one arm around Spock, the other around a nearby pipe. 

Hemmer turned a pouting Spock towards him. “You are not going back in there, understand?” 

Spock glanced to the side, “(I don’t speak English.)”

“Yes, you do!” Hemmer groaned, lowering them down. “(Son of Amanda Grayson, why?!)”

That shut Spock up. He didn’t talk until they returned to Medbay. 

“Mr. Chief?” Spock pulled on his uniform. 

Hemmer looked down. The first words of English Spock had spoken were directed at him. Apparently. 

“Ye-yes?” 

Spock’s eyebrow raised. 

“How do you know my mother?”

…

“Erica stop touching that.” Hemmer gently grabbed a wrench out of her hands, “I told you, you may accompany me on my rounds but you can’t-”

“Touch anything, I know!” The teen groaned, “This is so boring!” 

Hemmer smiled, “Well, seeing as I can’t give you a toy or placate you with fairy tales, would you like to hear how I met my wife?”

She groaned louder. 

“I promise it’s not boring, it actually involves her crashing a royal ceremony, grabbing an Ushaan-tor off the wall and then proposing to me.” 

Erica looked him up and down. 

“Really? She busted an imperial ceremony and didn’t get executed?”

“Oh,” Hemmer chuckled, pulling a lever, “she had to fight an Ushaan, which she won.” 

“Woah! You never told me you had a wife! She sounds kick-ass!”

Hemmer nodded, “She was, indeed, kick-ass.” His smile faded a bit as he choked back a sigh.

 “She…would have liked you.” 

Erica’s face widened in realization. 

“...Oh.” She looked down, placing her hands in her pockets. 

“So, how did you two meet again?” 

…

Back into the tubes. 

“Nyota!” Hemmer called, “Come back!” 

He winced. Uhura didn’t speak English, not as her first language. M’Benga didn’t speak her dialect either. As Uhura said- there were 22 native languages in Kenya. 

He growled in frustration. 

Nyota. Please. 

The giggling eight-year-old slowed to a stop. 

???

Hemmer sighed loudly. 

I’m magic. Can we go? 

Nyota turned around, her face scrunching in confusion. 

????!!!!

“I can understand you…somewhat.” He pulled a Mendazi out of his pocket. “ And I am most certainly bribing you, please come back.” 

Uhura’s smile turned into a small sneer. 

“I speak…some English. We learn in school.” She smiled, taking the donut out of his hands, “I’ll follow.” 

He sighed. 

Finally. Someone with a little more self-preservation.

…

“Christine.” 

Christine kept talking. 

“Christine.” He tried again. 

No response. 

“Christine.” He tapped her on the shoulder, “Put the vial back. You’re not a doctor.” 

M’Benga nodded exasperatedly from a nearby worktable. No words were necessary to see that the doctor was at the end of his rope. 

“Why are you babysitting me?” She pouted, “I thought Aenar liked being alone!”

“Yes, we do like solitary time to rest our minds.” He chuckled, “Where did you read that?” 

“A book.” She shrugged, “You didn’t answer my question. Why are you babysitting me and not the nice brunette lady?”

“You mean Una?” He snorted slightly, “Because she has more important things to do.”

He leaned down to meet the nine-year-old's gaze, “And because I am an Aenar. There is nothing more important to us than children.” He smiled gently. 

“You are much more important than any leak, broken pipe, or cracked circuit on this ship.” 

M’Benga scoffed, “Ensign Al-Khatib is going to disagree. You’ve blown her off for almost six hours.” 

Groaning, Hemmer stood back up. “Please, let us not mention my soon and swift end at the hands of my ensign, shall we?”

Chuckling, M’Benga replied.  

“Your death will only be swift if she’s feeling merciful.” 

Christine stifled a laugh. 

…

“Joseph!” Hemmer called, jogging down the hallway, “Jo-”

He stopped. M’Benga was sitting about ten feet up perched on a pipe. 

“What the-” 

Hemmer caught himself. 

Joseph smiled, holding up his PADD, “I wanted a quiet place to read. The nurse was…loud.” 

M’Benga was a delightful child, unfortunately, also blessed with the ability to climb as well as a good temper. 

“Joseph,” Hemmer rubbed his face, “please get down. You’re going to give me a coronary.” 

Joe smiled. 

“That’s what my mom says.” He sighed exaggeratedly, “Fine. I will get down. To make you feel better.”

“Thank you.”

As soon as the two entered Medbay again, Chapel was on them in a second. 

“Wow, great wrangling skills.” She said flatly, “You managed to lose our most calm patient.”

“I got him back, didn’t I?” Hemmer scoffed. He patted Joseph on the back and went to go grab his PADD. 

Suddenly, something was wrong. 

…

Hemmer looked up. 

Something was wrong. Where the hell was he? He was supposed to be at school. 

Inwardly, he groaned. 

Gemmil’s going to kill me. Slowly. If she finds out I’m skipping school I’m a dead man. 

The people near him were adults. Human adults. 

Hemmer jolted up and immediately ran for the nearest exit. 

“Qass! Id le’lara’!” 

Shit! I’ve been abducted!

He scoffed as he crawled into the nearest small space he could wedge himself into. Being abducted by aliens was the last thing he thought would happen to him. His sister Gemmil used it constantly as a threat- but he never thought she was serious. 

As he continued to crawl, he found himself at the end of a tube with the next hatch locked. 

He felt around his boots for his knife. 

Nothing. Not even a tukkood. (Martial-art weapon) Well, at least he had his boots. 

Someone came into the tube. 

“Yah!” He called, “N’rag!”

Hey, stay back!

Another voice called in Andorii, “(You’re ok)!”

The closer voice said lightly, “I’m Una, can you hear me?”

His English was limited despite his sister’s best attempts. 

“Yes…eh’eh.” 

Kind of. 

Hemmer smiled, “Oo’na?” He chuckled. 

Maybe?

“Yes, Una! I’m your friend.”

Her brain seemed..different than the others. He realized quickly what it was. 

She wasn’t human. 

“Ya’!” He smiled, “Ad’uh I’llirii!”

You’re Illyrian!

Una winced, holding a finger to her lips, “Ah. Oo’rah fa…boh’eh.”

Calm down and…quiet.

Hemmer inched closer. “Illirii ek khe’ehk?” 

Illyrian is a secret? 

Una winced again. “Ah. Ib ae’ran” 

Yes. For now. 

Hemmer held out his hand, “Ah’eh. Ekii’id…ad afgain’im?”

Ok. I promise…you’re my friend?

Smiling, Una took his hand. “Yes. Ah’uh. Ekid afgain’mad. Ahem.”

Yes. I am your friend.  

Always. 

[vordenburg]

[justreckin]

Alright all, SNW Enterprise hits an anomaly that’s got everyone stuck speaking their native language. Who’s screwed?

Personally I’m going with Nyota (we know this from TOS), M’Benga (accent), and Una (didn’t grow up in a Federation colony to the best of my understanding), Pelia (dead language or Lanthanite?), Hemmer (Andorian)

I’m rather on the fence about Spock; figure he has a 50/50 chance of being taught both Vulcan and Federation Standard as his first language and am willing to fall on whichever side creates the most shenanigans.

La’an I also figure could go either way. I can see her family sticking to Standard first because of prejudice against their ancestry, or going the complete opposite way and saying nope, this is our culture/heritage and y’all can deal with it.

Erica is also up in the air for me. We just don’t have enough information one way or the other so I figure she’s also just gonna have to fall the way of shenanigans. Honestly, I could also see Standard being her first language but her messing around with people off duty as if it weren’t.

[fiadorable]

Hear me out.

Voyager SNW AU.

Wherein: Chris Pike captains Voyager into the badlands chasing the renegade Illyrian ship Astra captained by former Starfleet officer Una Chin-Riley who escaped custody after her genetic status as Illyrian was revealed.

Wherein: Upon transport to the Delta Quadrant it is revealed that La'an Noonien-Singh, the Astra's tactical officer, has been working for SF the whole time as a spy and is actually Pike's tactical officer.

Wherein: Una's dearest childhood friend Neera has been transported to the Caretakers array along with Spock from Voyager.

Wherein: Ortegas and Chin-Riley have beef with each other but also a grudging respect for each other's piloting skills

Wherein: A grumpy Andorian brought by an earlier Caretaker wave insists they rescue his friend Uhura from the Kazon. It's 100% platonic. Una and Hemmer go way back and she convinces Pike to help them. She regrets it slightly when Hemmer pretends to be a wizard who can conjure water from thin air, but the Kazon don't spend the next several years chasing them down for replicators because they don't know they exist.

Wherein: Uhura immediately crawls into Voyagers communications array and upgrades the system and also is able to provide diplomatic protocols for the surrounding area. Hemmer is there "to fix what is broken" so they throw him into engineering with Neera to see what will happen.

Wherein: Dr M'Benga's daughter is cured accidentally while in the Caretaker's "care". Naomi Wildman will grow up with a playmate. Christine Chapel was on the Illyrian ship and is very excited to play with the latest Starfleet tech. M'Benga spends a lot of time fishing on the holodeck.

Wherein: Pike and Una now have to get everybody home but you know what they're gonna bang the whole way because there's no misogyny in this version in this essay I will...

[shannyfishwriter]

SNW: "Untraveled Roads" - Chapter 1

Title: Untraveled Roads Pairing: Spock/Chapel Summary: A large party of ambassadors on board the Enterprise leads to a very interesting realization for Spock and Christine Chapel when it comes to what a possible future together may look like. ===========

"The Enterprise will be hosting Federation ambassadors and transporting them to a summit," Pike explained.  "We'll pick up our guests at Starbase One and ferry them to Betazed for more Federation discussions.  Our job is simply transport and while they're in our care, we entertain."

"If that means you're cooking, I'll wear whatever uniform I need to impress the guests," Oretegas quipped.

"Exactly which ambassadors will we be hosting?" Chin-Riley questioned.  

"They aren't quite sure which ambassador from Earth they're sending yet," Pike said, raising his eyebrow slightly as he glanced over his PADD and leaned back in his chair.  "But along with whoever that ends up being, we'll have Tellarite Ambassador Crugriv Jurs and his attache along with Andorian Ambassador Itith Ch'riathrass and assistant and Vulcan Ambassador Sarek and his wife.  Pike looked in Spock's direction as he spoke his father's name.  

"So, the founding Federation members basically," Una stated.

"Seems that way."

"What exactly will be required during their stay?" Uhura spoke up.

Pike sighed.  "I don't think any of them are expecting anything, but Admiral April has expressed that we hold some dinners.  So, everyone will need to be on alert for invitations to those."  He tilted his head.  "I don't expect it to be too involved, but we'll have them for a few days and we need to all do our best to make them comfortable."

<Read More Here>

[terriblygrimm]

ok but when pike is promoted to fleet cpt the galactic radio pulls a love actually and plays a “golden oldie for a golden oldie” (get it? bc he’s command gold) & he dances to the pointer sisters in his cabin only to be caught by una and he’s all “yeaaah number 1, can we move that meeting with the andorian ambassador to 2 oclock tomorrow?” and she just has the tiniest barely there telling smile and dutifully replies “certainly sir”

[the-redhead-in-a-dress]

SNW Drabbles (PikeUna)

Just something that's been in my notes app for months and I've never done anything with. I think my idea behind this originally was La'an had turned little in an accident and Chris and Una looked after her before they could turn her back to her regular self. And that this experience made them realize that perhaps having another little one of their own wouldn't be too bad...

________

Christine was ever the professional when one afternoon the Captain came for his bi-yearly physical looking more hesitant than his usual confident self. She had thought nothing of it at first, thinking he was just a little embarrassed that she'd be the one doing his examination. Usually, MBenga covered the Captain's physical but sickbay had been swamped with an unusually high caseload of a rare Andorian flu and he was flat out covering all the patients. So Christine had offered to cover his scheduled check ups for the week.

It was only at the end of the exam in which the topic of his sexual health came up that the Captain's nervousness was explained. She had to have similar conversations about sex with over half the crew multiple times a year, often with many she considered personal friends as well as colleagues. So the nervousness positively radiating from Chris as he sat on the biobed didn't phase her in the slightest, right up until the point in which he mentioned that he would be declining the birth control shots he'd been receiving since he was 16 years old. That was interesting.

She buried her head in the PADD to tick the decline box next to birth control, desperately trying to keep a composed expression before looking up to meet the Captain's eyes.

“This is going to be awkward Sir.” Christine said. “But I need to ask, are you sure about this? The consequences, have you discussed this with your sexual partners.” 

“Partner” Chris clarified with a chuckle. “And yes, we are both fully aware of the consequences that come with coming off of birth control, that was, uh, kind of the point.” Chris’ face turned red as he tried to explain to Nurse Chapel without stuttering.

“I wish you luck Sir. You and Number One will make very cute babies.” She said nonchalantly as she wrote a note in his file on the PADD she was holding.

“I uh didn’t say who.” Chris' face slackened at the mention of Una. They'd been trying to keep their relationship on the down low, and their recent decision to try for a baby was definitely not something they wanted to advertise yet. They were both fully aware their ages meant that their chances of procreating weren't guaranteed, but they had agreed about giving it a go and seeing if it worked out. Their recent experiences with La'an as a toddler had been the spark behind their rather unexpected decision. The experience of caring for her together had led to both of them realizing that the presence of a small child in their lives was something that they actively enjoyed, and now missed now that La'an was back to her usual self.

It had been scary trying to broach the topic with Una, having known her stance on children since they were in their early 20s, they're cute but not something for me. However, halfway through his ramblings Una had cut him off and actually asked him whether he wanted to have a baby with her. He had not so articulately stuttered a yes in response and then they had stood in his kitchen grinning at each other like idiots for several full minutes.

Even the thought of it now, a baby, a Chin-Riley and Pike baby, brought a wide smile to his lips and they hadn't even really started the process yet. Although there had been lots of practice already, because they'd never want anybody to accuse them for being underprepared for anything, in any facet of their lives, professional or personal.

“Firstly, it’s obvious the way you look at her," Christine couldn't help but a grin escape her lips as she responded to the Captain's comment. "Secondly I think La’an will literally kill you if you have a baby with anybody that isn’t Una. And thirdly, I already had to have this conversation with Number One last week and nobody else on this ship except from her has come to let me know they’re willing to procreate anytime soon." 

“Ah, okay."

Not to embarrass him further, Christine turned away from the Captain and moved towards the matter synthesizer in the corner. She played with the settings for a moment before replicating a few vials of what she needed. As she handed them to him she noticed his hands were slippery with sweat.

“You might want to take these supplements every morning, to increase sperm production. I’ve already started Una on something similar to increase her chances of ovulation.” 

“Okay, thank you.” He said awkwardly, hopping off of the biobed in the private exam room.

“Good luck Sir,"

The Captain nodded at her and thanked her for her time and help, before quickly escaping out of sickbay.

Christine shook her head as she watched him leave. Did she just wish one of commanding officers luck in having sex with her other commanding officer? This ship was weird. 

[1trilliongrams]

Give me your Star Trek Throuples:

TOS: Duh

TNG: Worf, Troi, Riker

DS9: I mean there’s a whole polycule but I’ll go with O’Brien, Bashir, Garak

VOY: Kim, Paris, Torres

ENT: don’t come at me with this Reed, Trip, T’Pol stuff. Reed bottoms for the marine. Archer joins Shran and Jhamel in their Andorian marriage

AOS: Duh

DIS: Book, Burnham, Tilly

PIC: Q, Picard, Crusher

SNW: Ortegas, Una, La’an

LWD: everyone fuckin everyone

PRO: they’re all friends :)

[the-lady-general]

Ok, here's how I'd do the Under the Cloak of War arc if SNW got DS9 amounts of screentime:

(Spoilers. Also, horrendous formatting.)

TLDR: For once I want more time for the ethics dilemma and less time for the Andorian with a knife. I know. I don't know what's wrong with me either.

Part 1: Bob, calling Chris about where the fuck is his Klingon. Chris ends the call, drinks, Una takes his glass away because she's had it with his bullshit, he needs to stop stalling. We interrogate our suspects and get different versions of the preceding events. The episode ends on "well, he's likely dead and likely one of the crew killed him, oh no, the ethical dilemma of revenge and self-control". Chris gets to want to believe the best in people, Una gets to point out that nonetheless they're still short a Klingon, and everybody sure wishes that they had killed him. End with a close-up of the transporter buffer with the ambassador in it.

Ep 2:

The action one. The ambassador tells his version of J'gal, Joseph calls him out. We get Joseph and Christine's and Erica's versions, but also Chris' and Una's. They swooped in just when everything was already decided, yet they're the golden kids. So if we're doing history parallels they can be (imperfect) USA stand ins. Everyone's telling a single part of the bigger story of J'gal. The ensign and spec ops commander should be rolled into one and replaced with Erica, and she should be the one to hand over the knife. She gets saved, but many others don't, and she finds joy in flying, or she flew out the ship that evacuated a bunch of people, or *something* to make "I'm Erica Ortegas, I fly the ship" have some emotional punch. Can the Klingons be forgiven? The Federation? The individuals? Joseph and Chris should have their heart to heart here.

Ep 3: Joseph and the ambassador do their song and dance. The kids get to share their perspective on how the war affected them too, and their overcoming prejudices and peaceful future stuff. Pelia gets to add the immortal perspective, giving her some development, because I need her to be a highly decorated hero who keeps getting sent to wars she wants no part in, but she's just so damn GOOD, so she's going anyway because more people will die if she doesn't fight. Hemmer is there too, dammit, and he gets to have a go at both the ambassador and Nyota because ~uwu Aenar existentialism~ isn't a gimmick, it's hard work committing to pacifism and finding a solution for when violence seems inevitable. The stabbing happens, but in a Clue kind of way where somehow, everyone just happens to be a plausible suspect. Joseph puts the ambassador in the transporter buffer and after much In the Pale Moonlight style deliberation he FINALLY lets Hemmer purge the damn thing. Hemmer & Pelia know what's up and send the whole buffer to Starfleet HQ with a little bow on top. Una congratulates Chris on solving the crisis with Bob. Chris remains clueless. Or maybe he says something about trusting individuals and trusting the crew he got together, because he really needs some competence points in my book.

[empress-violetlight]

For the Star Trek ask game: gosh! I haven’t gone through the list of essential episodes you gave to me yet (but I can’t wait to do so, it’ll be on my short list of to-do’s!) so I still know close to nothing about Star Trek! But I wish I could ask you something in regards to it lol 😆 So I’m going to randomly pick #5 for the ask game. 💙

Okay, I'll try to pick a few. Thanks for the ask!

Star Trek Ask Game

4. favorite character

From each show:

TOS/TAS: Uhura

TNG: Lt. Barkley

DS9: Odo

VOY: B'elanna Torres

ENT: Shran

(I haven't watched enough of DIS to make a decision)

LD: Tendi and T'ana

PRO: Rok-Tahk

SNW: Una

5. favorite species

Overall? The Horta. I love creative, non-humanoid aliens, and the silocon-based Horta are just so interesting, and yet this acid-spewing, living rock is so relatable as well. She's just a mother defending her babies. "Devil in the Dark" is my favourite TOS episode, and I so want to see the Horta again on screen!

As for the more "usual" humanoid aliens, I love the Andorians! They might have technically come first, showing up in TOS, but they weren't really characterized until Enterprise, and they're basically Trek Chiss. Both are blue, come from icy worlds, and have a strong warrior culture, while being more calculating and intelligent than most "strong warrior races" like Klingons. Shran is awesome! (I named a very prominent Chiss OC of mine after him), and we *should* learn a lot more than we have about them and the Tellarites. They're founding members of the Federation as well, just like humans and Vulcans, and they deserve more time in the spotlight.

25. favorite captain-first officer dynamic

Janeway and Chakotay's. I've been shipping them since the 90s. What can I say?

30. favorite plot of the week episode

TNG's "Disaster". I loved how so many characters were thrown outside their comfort zones, yet still came out on top in this episode. Picard's dynamic with the kids, reassuring them as he got them to climb up the turbolift shaft was touching, and Troi managing to take command of the Enterprise was a turning point for her character. I usually don't like O'Brian that much, but I loved how he stood up for Troi against Ensign Ro (imagine an ensign thinking she can tell a Lt. Commander what to do! The nerve!) I liked the ongoing arc in the last two seasons of TNG with Troi beginning to see herself as more than just the councilor, her wearing a real uniform and taking the Commander's test, just becoming more confident with herself and her career in Starfleet, and it really started with this episode.

33. favorite pilot episode

Strange New World's pilot, simply called "Strange New Worlds". I loved how it looked at just how Starfleet would respond when it turns out a pre-warp species got ahold of technology they "shouldn't" have, and it's Starfleet's fault. I think the way Captain Pike handled the situation was pure genius, and it really got me hooked on the series, even if the premise of the show itself ("The Cage" made into an actual series), and favourites from TOS returning wasn't tempting enough! The rest of the 1st season was incredible too, and I can't wait until the next!

[curator-on-ao3]

pikeuna - "How did you get this scar?"

Thank you for this great prompt, @fiadorable! 💕 I considered a few different ideas, but decided to follow a little ENT canon to give Chris a day that starts out lousy but gets a lot better.

For those who prefer to read on AO3:

For those who prefer to read here:

Note: Content warning: Canon-consistent descriptions of an Orion slave market, as well as mention of what can be interpreted as (though not intended as) past, inadvertent branding.

Right Behind You

The red dust of Verex III swirls in Chris’ nose, grits in his eyelashes, catches in heavy patches of mud caked on his sweat-dampened shoulders and thighs. A neurolytic restraint buzzes just under his ear, its clamps in his neck a reminder that even if he somehow managed to escape the Orion Syndicate, the restraint would kill him.

Where would he go, anyway? The crew wouldn’t know where to look for him, and he doesn’t have his communicator.

Or his pants.

So Chris forces one weary leg in front of the other, his shoulders drooped with fatigue as he’s led into the slave market and up onto the slave auction circle. He squints, trying to see the traders who fill the dim room, but many of their faces are covered, and the few discernible faces … don’t look friendly.

A screen to Chris’ left lights up with his price in Federation credits, Klingon darseks, and nearly a dozen other currencies.

Whoa, even Chris couldn’t afford Chris.

Wait. Is that good?

The bidding begins, loud voices, harsh, one speaking over another, his price rising higher and higher, and Chris’ hands find the cool metal bars that ring the front of the slave auction circle — wide bars that don’t even reach waist-high, bars that he could squeeze his body over or under or even between if not for the neurolytic restraint rendering escape impossible — and he holds on tight. He needs to keep his body upright and his mind alert.

The bidding slows, his price stabilizing, and a new voice enters the contest for his ownership.

“You’ve all been had.” Heads turn as the source of the voice stands in the middle of the room, face covered, long legs moving quickly and confidently toward the slave auction circle. “That property you thought you wanted so badly is flawed.”

Is Chris hallucinating her voice, her walk, the contours of her body swathed in thick fabric?

“I’ll prove it.” She reaches the slave auction circle, the other side of the bars, close, so close, yet also an impossible distance away. “Turn so they can see your bare backside, slave.”

It’s her.

It has to be her.

Right?

Chris lets go of the bars, shuffles around … and there are gasps from within the room full of hardened traders.

Okay, that’s a bit much.

It’s not that bad.

“For those who wish to ask this slave, ‘How did you get that scar?’ I advise you to save your breath, as he would no doubt lie to you.” There’s a hand on his rear end, and that had darn well better be her. “But believe your eyes, as what I show you here is clearly a mark of madness … of trouble … of obsession gone terribly wrong.”

On the screen, Chris’ price begins to drop.

“Look at the scar. Look at it!” She’s enjoying herself, glee creeping into her voice as she delivers a stinging smack to his rear end. “Imagine knowing the scar is there and not being able to tell your friends — not being able to tell anyone — of the horror.”

It’s really not that bad.

It’s just … when he was ten years old, he accidentally sat on a just-forged, burning hot horseshoe.

She knows that.

Yet his price plummets.

Chris turns and her face is uncovered, blue with antenna to simulate the appearance of an Andorian. She has a scanner in her hand that’s twisted so he can see the display and she taps to finalize her purchase of him at a hefty discount but it’s still a lot of credits.

Someone removes his neurolytic restraint, incessant buzz silenced, muscles of his neck flexing in newfound freedom, and he walks with her into the dusty night.

“Sorry about that, Captain.” Her murmur is accompanied by a pair of pants she pulls from a pocket of the fabric that shifts around her as she hurries toward what he hopes are transport coordinates or even a shuttle. “Had to lay it on a little thick. You got more expensive than I expected.”

He hops as he pulls on one pants leg, then the other, dust and dirt and mud on his legs catching in the cloth, dislodging, falling down, down, down and out, his tired, sore muscles not as important as jogging a little to catch up with her as his thumbs hook around the waistband to smooth into place the glorious, luxurious comfort of pants. “Thanks. I think. I’m just glad to be out of there — and surprised Bob approved you to buy me out instead of taking weeks or even months to go through proper channels.”

She stops and turns, her smile soft with affection.

“Bob didn’t approve anything. That was from my personal account. You’re mine.” She winks, then pulls her communicator from another fabric pocket and there’s a familiar chirp as she flips it open. “Number One to Enterprise. Two to beam up.”

He was hers, anyway, but a chuckle lifts his chest as the transporter beam sparkles to take them home.

———

Send me an ask with character(s) and a prompt and I’ll do my best to write you a little something that will bid for your readerly heart. 💙

✨ All prompted Pikeuna and Pike & Una ficlets are also available on AO3 as Constellations of Possibility. ✨

[nichestartrekkie0-0]

Give Me That (Fic) PG/fluff :))

Hey! I can't remember who wanted Mentor/Mentee fanfic but here u go!

2k words, PG rating! Summary = Hemmer's family invites Uhura to dinner. Chaos ensues.

Words!

Se'waya= mentee/daughter (non.familial)

Se'hammun= extended family (unrelated)

(Set after Episode 4)

Give Me That. 

After a long day, it took almost everything Hemmer had not to collapse on his bed. He still had some paperwork to complete. 

The room itself was nice. It was modern, sleek, and completely void of any trace of home save for the small keepsakes he had managed to cram in his away bag. 

His apartment at home was the opposite. Despite being in the Aenar capitol, it was filled with manuals and models of starships. It also had a decently stocked pantry of food and a small altar. 

He wasn’t religious. Not really. It was more habit than devotion, but at least it kept him in line. 

Being among people who were almost inherently violent was both incredibly tiring and almost isolating. Aenar were communal, and it was infuriating to him how he had to hide or redirect his motives among the crew. 

He couldn’t leave the coffee pot on purposefully, he had to say it was an accident. Even though he liked watching everyone have hot coffee, he couldn’t own up to that fact. 

He couldn’t directly say that he ordered extra food for his ensigns, he had to say he screwed up and input the wrong number. Apparently, admitting to charitable acts was both bragging and kowtowing at the same time. 

He couldn’t say ‘I care’. He couldn’t say ‘let me help’. He couldn’t say so many things.  

So, he would simply show his intent with his actions instead. 

Despite his pile of work, after a shower and a quick prayer, he fell into bed. He knew if he tried to do anything other than sleep it’d just end in disaster on his part. The last time he did work in such a state, he had to redo his calculations twice. 

He expected to dream the same dream of nothing he’d been having for the past few days.

Alas, it’s cruel how expectations work. 

A shrill ringing woke him from his daze. As he stumbled over to his communicator, he realized the sound was coming from his computer. 

It was a call. 

He yelled at voice command to turn it off and tell him who was calling. At the mention of the name, he groaned. 

It was Gevven. His platonic life partner. 

Aenar can make bonds– as the Vulcans do— but there are usually a few people they share them with. Friends can be included and are expected to be a part of the bond. 

Hemmer had known Gevven since they were fifteen. An unfortunate fact, as Gevven still harbored the idea that they could drink like they could in their youth. 

Another unfortunate fact was that Gevven never, ever called. If his friend was calling him, something was on fire. 

Hemmer scrambled for the ‘answer’ button and waited until Gevven’s voice rang through the room. 

“Ah! Afghan’im!”

Hello, my friend!

“This had better be good.” Hemmer spat in English. 

Gevven paused. 

“It is...the next base you’re stopping at has a delegation of Andorians there-”

“So?”

“Let me finish!” Gevven sighed sharply, “The Speaker is going to be there.” 

“My…mother?”

Hemmer could almost hear Gevven’s eyes roll through the line. 

“No, the Andorian Emperor.” He spat, “Yes, your mother! Who else is the Speaker?!” 

Hemmer fell silent. His mother was…conventional. He had inherited her temper and her stubbornness, and it was a miracle that he’d been cordial on the Enterprise so far. 

Simply, the only reason he was friendly was because he had friends. The crew aboard the Enterprise was quickly becoming his Se-Hammun. Extended family. 

Gevven scoffed, “You told me that you have a se’waya. She’s going to want to meet her.”

Hemmer stood completely still. “My mother and Uhura would not get along-”

“-You don’t have much choice in the matter. She already invited us to dinner.”

A beat passed. Then two. 

“Us?” Hemmer asked, glaring at the monitor. 

“Yes, us! Do you have snow in your ears or something?”

Hemmer paused. Gevven hated space. He hated the dark and the possibility of his blood boiling if there was a simple crack in the hull. There was absolutely no way he’d ever leave the Northern Wastes let alone be halfway across known space. 

“Where-”

“Where do you think? I’ve been slowing her down the last week! You owe me. We’ve really got to get her a better escort too. The Andorians have lost her twice now.” 

Groaning, Hemmer put his head in his hands. A dinner he could handle. A normal, nice, simple family dinner would be no problem. However, throw his mother, a socially anxious human cadet, his best friend, and himself into a restaurant and things were bound to get sticky. 

He knew he could be blunt. He could be arrogant and distant. His mother was the same; he had gotten those traits from her. His father-

Wait. 

Hemmer stepped forward. “My father isn’t going to be there, is he?”

He could hear Gevven smiling through the line. “Thank God, he is.”

Both men breathed a sigh of relief. 

While Speaker Hemmer was something of a tempest, her husband was more akin to some small and fluffy prey animal. He was kind to the point of being almost saccharine. Even better, he was a good speaker and a good conversationalist. 

Hemmer loved his friend, but Gevven took the kindergarten rule of ‘being honest’ to a new level. The man had no filter and desperately needed one. 

Gevven paused, then asked, “Your se’waya…she’s anxious right?”

“Somewhat." Hemmer winced, "She just doesn’t like people.”

“Oh. Great. We’ll sit her next to your father then.” 

“Alright. Where is it?”

“Some fancy restaurant, I have no idea. I’ll send you the details tonight.”

Hemmer choked a little. 

“It’s tonight?!”

“Yes. It should be four am for you right now, right?”

Hemmer glanced at the clock and cursed. 

His friend was right. It was indeed past four. The Enterprise was on schedule to dock in two hours, and he’d have to pull Uhura aside to prepare her. 

The Aenar didn’t dine with people often, or usually at all. Taking a meal with an Aenar was a very personal affair-

Wait. 

He asked the dreaded question. “It’s not an Aenar traditional dinner, is it?”

Gevven laughed, “Oh, naturally it is. Have you not taught her dinner etiquette yet?”

Another silence filled the room. 

“Great. I take that as a ‘no’. This is going to be-”

“-A disaster.” Hemmer finished. “I can’t do this to her. Do you think I can excuse her from-”

“Absolutely not. Both your parents will pitch a fit if you try to lie your way out of this one.” 

Hemmer shook his head. “I’ll see what she says. If she agrees, I’ll take her. If not, she won’t be attending.” 

Gevven chuckled; a deep and smooth sound. 

“You sap.” 

The line cut off. 

Hemmer glanced at the clock again, desperately hoping for the numbers to magically change. Of course, they didn’t, but he was still slightly disappointed as he reached for a clean uniform. 

…

“What’s the big deal with this again?” Uhura asked, reaching for her coffee, “I get it’s a fancy dinner, but why are you so stressed out?”

Hemmer handed it to her. “It’s not just a fancy dinner, it’s an Aenar fancy dinner. Which is objectively worse.”

Pike, still engrossed in his coffee and PADD, leaned over. “I also have no idea what’s going on. What’s so bad about an Aenar dinner?” 

Una winced. She and Nurse Chapel had been the unlucky witnesses of Hemmer rambling about Aenar etiquette when he was sick with the flu. 

Hemmer shifted. “It’s…”

“-Difficult manners.” Una finished. “The Aenar eat and drink things in certain groups and orders. There’s also correct conversation topics, ways of holding utensils, and taboos that you have to be aware of.”

“Thank you, Una.” Hemmer sighed, “I...”

“Do you want me to go?” Uhura asked, stirring her coffee. 

The question hit him like a truck. 

He had tried so hard to keep his work and family separate. He had told his parents and Aenar friends about his crew with the intention that they’d never meet. 

Then he had made friends– close friends– on the Enterprise. People he valued, trusted, cared for. 

Something shifted in his chest. 

“I want you there, but if you don’t-”

“Then I’ll go.” She smiled, “Of course I will. How hard can it be? Manners are like linguistics; once you figure out the pattern you’re peachy.”  

Hemmer smiled slightly, then turned to Pike and Una. 

“You’re invited too. My mother sent you the details this morning-”

“-I saw.” Una smirked, “We’re having dinner with the Speaker. I feel special.”

Pike leaned in, “Is it impolite to say that I feel nervous? I don’t like being the sole representative of Starfleet at a complex political dinner.”

“My friend Gevven will be there too.” Hemmer scoffed, taking a bite of food, “I think we’ll be alright. If anyone makes a serious mistake he promised me this morning that he’d spill wine on himself to make a scene.” 

Una snorted. “Naturally. This is the same Gevven who lit himself on fire trying to propose to his partner?”

Hemmer chuckled a bit, pouring himself more coffee. 

“The very same. Hopefully, his destructive tendencies will work in our favor tonight.” 

…

Nothing was on fire. 

Yet. 

Despite the three-hour lecture he had cobbled together, his friends were crashing and burning spectacularly. Gevven included. 

Hass– Hemmer’s father– smiled painfully. “So you vented the bay into space with my son and his se’waya still inside?”

Pike nodded sheepishly. “Yes. We did, although-”

Clunkily coming to the rescue, Gevven wrapped an arm around Hemmer. “He’s not dead, now is he? They did what they had to do! Ohra’ash!” 

Have mercy. 

Hemmer’s eyes glanced upwards. His friend was right in asking for mercy. Maybe it was time to set aside his ego- at least for a few seconds. 

Please, God, have mercy. 

“I still can’t believe you came into contact with the Gorn!” Speaker Hemmer snapped, “The Gorn have never ventured that far before!”

Hass took a sip of his drink and tried to redirect the conversation to where people were from and what their families looked like- which made Una and Uhura obviously uncomfortable. The two women fell almost mute in seconds. 

Then, finally, disaster. 

Some waiter accidentally bumped the table, causing Uhura to spill her drink all over herself. She spluttered a bit and reached for the napkins, breaking yet another ridiculous rule. 

Spilling one’s drink was considered not only bad luck but a bad omen. Especially based on the drink. Spilling something alcoholic was like a death sign. 

Una and Pike froze, seemingly unsure of what to do. 

Hemmer and Gevven looked at each other, thinking the same thing at the same time. 

“Ladies first.” Gevven chuckled, promptly pouring his drink onto Hemmer, who chuckled in response. 

“Idiots last.” He replied, tossing his drink onto his friend. 

The Speaker was stunned into silence. Maybe she was proud at the possibility that her son had found good friends- but she was more likely horrified at the lack of propriety. 

Hemmer scoffed, gesturing to Una and Pike. 

Eh, damn the rules. 

 “You know, I liked this suit.” Pike sighed, dumping his drink onto Una’s head. She gasped at the shock of cold, and then immediately retaliated. 

“Hey,” she smirked, “that’s why they made tide pods.” 

The party left soon after, still sopping wet and laughing a little. The Aenar returned to their hotel while Hemmer and Pike led the crew back to the space dock. 

After a comfortable silence, his se’waya could seemingly take it no longer. 

“Why did you do that?” Uhura asked, looking up at him. 

He couldn’t say he cared. He couldn’t say ‘I wanted to help’. So, he would show that he cared.

Smiling, he glanced down at her and held out his hand.

“Your watch looks like it stopped working. Here.”

At her surprised expression, he rolled his eyes and smiled wider. 

 “Give me that.” 

[a03feed-launa]

Where to rest?

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/OX1fbHm by raddoc La'an is on day three of the Andorian flu and miserable. Luckily Una is immune.   La'Una discord bingo-Prompt: Never apologize for wanting to be loved Words: 3840, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Star Trek: Strange New Worlds (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/F Characters: La'an Noonien-Singh, Number One | Una Chin-Riley (Star Trek) Relationships: La'an Noonien-Singh/Number One | Una Chin-Riley Additional Tags: Fluff, Grumpy La'an, Amused but soft Una, Adorable, La'ans hair is finally down, Feels read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/OX1fbHm

[nursc]

🌿🍒

christmas is a time of joy. a season brimming with celebrations, cheesy family celebrations she swears she’ll never do again, only to fall into the same routine the next year, feeling the holiday wouldn’t be complete without it. it’s a time for building gingerbread houses, overindulging until her fingers turn sticky. without fail, it is her favorite time of the year — come november, blue eyes gain a permanent twinkle, her already bright features sparkling as she plots and plans.

gifts for her friends. warm, cozy meals that’ll remind people of home. she sets aside a day for baking, calling her mom over subspace as they sing the same old songs, and make the perfect christmas cookies.

it is also a time for breaking the rules. people gossip during shifts. they exchange gifts on the bridge, and hang mistletoe on the doors, despite number one sending several reminders that the latter is not appropriate in a work enviourment.

so far, she's been caught seven times under it.

six of those with dwight.

( out of respect, and a healthy amount of fear, christine kissed una's cheek )

but with dwight... she's been more adventurous. indulging in what she doesn't allow herself to think about during the rest of the year, crowding him against the wall, nipping at his chin playfully as she teases him about him plotting this, kissing him like she has all the time in the world.

the seventh time happened after their shift. the determined ensign who has been able to evade security section's detective skills so far put up a garland by the door, the red plant cheekily smiling from on top of it. it's been taunting her since she walked in. each time someone walks through the door, it drew her eye, which then immediately skirted towards dwight, drawn to him like a magnet as she imagined them kissing in the middle of sickbay.

kissing him in sickbay has been a... recurring dream of hers.

padd in hand, she took a final lap around the room, small smile forming upon her features when she finds him between the other doctors. handsome, distractingly handsome. the white lights which don’t flatter anyone highlight the strands of light blonde on top of his head, the dimple which forms on his cheek when he laughs; and there is that smile. she understands the description of angels when he smiles, so blazingly beautiful you have to look away.

and look away she did.

pleased that everything was in order, she set the padd down, grabbed a file she wanted to look over after dinner to distract him from unwanted thoughts, and waved goodbye to m'benga before she did something she might regret. like wait for him to leave to start as well, so she could catch him under the mistletoe ( as she did tuesday at the bar ). or grab him by the arm so they'd leave together ( thursday, gym ).

only... she might not have been the one paying attention. when she gets to the door, she feels another's presence behind her, and she doesn't need to turn to see who it is. christine recognized his presence, she'd know him blind, the way he smelled after a shift, his breath against her neck. she knew dwight as well as she knew herself, which is why she knows this is not an accident.

none of those six times were an accident.

they are playing a game with no victors or losers. they only keep things at the same tortuous level.

❛⠀ if i didn't know any better,⠀ ❜⠀ she says, when the doors close behind them, thankful the corridor is empty and they have a modicum of privacy,⠀ ❛⠀ i'd say you planned this, mr. enys.⠀ ❜⠀ murmur is playful, teasing. a breath of spring in their winter-obsessed starship. she turns and looks at him, eyes peaking between her lashes, daring a step closer to him.⠀ ❛⠀ you know, i've been blaming the andorian ensign this entire time in my head, but i'm starting to think you are the mastermind behind all of this.⠀ ❜

smile grows, cheeks full. she wants to eat him up. she wants to kiss him every day, not just when they have an excuse.⠀ ❛⠀ you can tell me.⠀ ❜

[mazamba]

"Yeah, that makes sense," figured Jen, "still, it's a weird coincidence. Aren't there a bunch of human-passing aliens here too?"

"Lathanites, Illyrians, and Vulcans if you squint," agreed Rutherford, "it's not like it's that weird. Aenar are pretty similar to Andorians, aren't they?"

"Yeah, but we're two sub-species," pointed out Jen, "so are Vulcans and Romulans. Lathanites just snuck into Earth and no one noticed because they're essentially immortal humans. And didn't Una get into the Enterprise even when Illyrians were banned from joining the Federation?"

Closed RP w/mazamba

This planet Jason was on was once thriving world. A planet full of trees, water, animals, and people. All who lived peacefully on the planet, until a war broke out in this sector. This left the planet in ruins, all of its resources plundered, and its people nearly wiped out. Centuries have passed and the planet has been nearly forgotten.

Jason was told the planet was under the control of a group called the Klingons. He didn’t think too much about it and knew he would be out of here before they found out or one of their allies.

He walks over towards his prize. A box containing a valuable item that he knew would come in for a pretty penny…or whatever currency the people of this universe use. He walks over and begins to disable any security systems around, before getting his prize. He wipes away the dirt from it, opens it, and smiles when he saw what’s inside.

“Just like the buyer said,” Jason whispered before putting the box in his bag. 

@mazamba