#how do I ask you to give me 3 quarter's worth of data and you delete an entire year from our audit records??

[witchcraftingboop]

Me after trying to explain for two days, on and off, that if you delete the first quarter's data, you cannot use the year's total value for an unrelated KPI to figure out what that value might have been: Y'all are draining me on a spiritual level... Where are the cameras? Bring them out! I'm ready!

[lemonandpeachess]

Small Moments

Pairing: Wrecker x Female Reader

Rating: G

Word Count:2,220

Summary: You and the squad have a little bit of downtime before completing a job from Cid. This time allow you to think ahead for the future of the squad, and of Omega. 

AN: I hope you all enjoy! This is my first bit of writing in a long time so we’re keeping it pretty simple. xx

Gif credits to the owner <3 

The noise was no stranger to you, the deep and seemingly endless drumming above your head. An icy coolness slips into your skin underneath your clothes, your eyes slipping shut at the sensation. While for the most part you enjoy your time on the ship with your crew and it feels just as much of a home as you could ask for, it did have its drawbacks. The closest thing to a simple rainfall you got to experience while cruising through space were meteor showers, and landing in the middle of one of those was not the most relaxing experience. You feel a small, hand wrap itself into your own, giving it a small squeeze. Your eyes cast down and you smile at the sweet brown eyes peering up at you from beneath wet, blonde curls. Omega has her hood over her head, holding down the side with her opposite hand against the wind.

“I sort of missed the rain (y/n).” She says, looking up at the sky and smiling, the raindrops sprinkling down on the two of you. You lift your head back up, sticking out your tongue. Omega looks at you, her brow furrowed. “What are you doing?”

“Catching raindrops. You can do it with snowflakes too. We used to do it on my home planet when I was small.” The tiny clone follows your actions, laughing as she lets go of your hand and makes a show of running around you, catching the water droplets from above.

You were thankful that for both the sake of you and the squad, and for Omega herself, that she had taken the business of being a part of the team so seriously. The young one dove into everything that was ever handed to her, from Hunter’s hand to hand combat routines, to Tech and Echo’s near constant technological learning. She was a fighter, and a determined one at that.

Your heart was heavy at times however, thinking about how she was still a child. She should be able to enjoy the things children enjoy. The sweet, small things that with adulthood and the burdens of growing up, we all tended to forget and appreciate. You took it upon yourself to make your training for Omega to be how enjoy things she could not before, to make her feel like she wasn’t restricted, or stripped of her curiosity. You encouraged it.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, my data shows that the atmosphere on this planet coupled with the local vegetation means excessive consumption of precipitation could lead to harmful side effects.” Tech says as he walks past, guiding his scanner around you as he too gets off the ship. You purse your lips and look down at your small companion once more, chuckling.

“Bit of rain won’t hurt you.” Hunter says as he comes up behind the two of you, handing Omega her small backpack you had found for her at a market during your last job for Cid. You wanted her to have something of her own and found some amenities to put in it as well. Some new fresh clothes, and a small toolkit among other things, including her beloved clone trooper doll. “We should get inside though. Cid said we can stay at her camp here before we continue to the other side of the planet for the exchange tomorrow. We can’t proceed until late morning at least. Best to get some rest while we can.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice Sarge.” Wrecker yells from the belly of the ship. You hear his footsteps as he barrels down the gangway and feel him join you both. He grabs your own pack from your shoulder and puts it over his own, its size shrinking against his broad form. “You and the kid take your time, beautiful. I can take our stuff inside.”

“Wreck I can take that, it’s just a few things.” You laugh, grabbing for your pack. He dodges your efforts and keeps walking forward, turning to wink at you as he follows his brothers. You huff out another laugh and lead Omega towards the cleared path in the forest. “Well, I guess I’ll just escort you then my lady. I’ll get you settled in in Hunter’s room before I join them so we can go over the mission details for tomorrow.”

“Can’t I be there? I want to know what’s going on tomorrow too!” Omega asks, her shoulders slumping down a moment under her cloak. You squeeze her hand and nod.

“Alright Omega, you can come with me. We’ll drop your pack off and then find our way. Just be weary. I’m not sure what kind of mission this will be or what Hunter’s plans for you are. This may be one you need to sit out, for all I know the both of us might be sticking behind. You’re a part of the squad so I see no issue of you being there. Just be ready to play the part Hunter and the others have planned.” You tell her. Thankfully, Hunter had begun to allow her a little more freedom with her involvement in missions. There were still runs Cid sent you on however that weren’t worth the risk.

“I promise I will!” She says, saluting you. You look ahead as a clearing broke out of the path and you see a glassed-in observatory style station come into view. It looked like a two-story home, perfectly rectangular in shape. The walls were made completely of glass, save for the metal framing around the edges and planforms, holding the building above the ground. You imagined the views of the forest were breathtaking from inside. You had to give it to her, Cid had taste. 

“(y/n)? Can I ask just one question before we go in?”

“Go on Omega, I’m listening.” You answer, still looking towards your quarters for the night.

“What are snowflakes?” ***** You sigh as you enter the code to your keypad Wrecker directly behind you as you all retired to your rooms after the mission briefing. Omega left in happy spirits with Hunter as he had a part for her to play in this mission, the situation being a simple drop-off of supplies with payment, nothing too messy. Since Omega had paid off all your debt with Cid, you were able to stick to more low-profile jobs while you figured out a new plan regarding Omega’s safety and the unsettling end of the war.

“The kid seemed happy that she has a job to do with us. I like when she’s able to come out in the field with us.” Wrecker says, starting to take off his uniform. You cross your arms over your chest, still a little chilled from the rain as you look out. You were right before, as the whole building, including your room, was surrounded by windows. Thick, one-way, bulletproof windows, as Tech made sure to point out, given who owned it. It really was a beautiful sight.

The view made it easy to look out into the forest, the leaves on the branches, bright from the rain and crisp air. The foliage swayed back and forth with the wind, creating the most soothing hushing sound, mother natures lullaby. Accompanied of course by what had to be some type of owls, their deep calls coming from their nests in the surrounding trees. Open space had a soothing effect to most. It’s infinite darkness with specks of light, but to you, it was far too quiet. No outside noises penetrated the thick hull of the Havoc Marauder, only the synthetic beeps and whirs of the engines going off in the night could soothe you in the deafening moments.

“I know that ain’t true, you smacked me in the face with your pillow the other night cause you said I was snorin’ too loudly.” Wrecker points out, lifting his chest piece over his head, his upper body now free of the extra weight. You hadn’t realized that you were thinking out loud, though you often did it around Wrecker. He was your partner, for a couple years now. Hunter, Crosshair, Tech, and Echo you trusted with your life. With Wrecker, you trusted him with your life and your heart. You take his chest piece from his hand and set it in the trunk he had carried in along with your bag. “

That is different!” You laugh, coming back to take the final pieces of his suit, leaving him just in his black thermal set. You lay the final piece into the trunk and sit on a chair that faces the windows. “This place reminds me of things I love. The birds, the trees, the smell of the rain. You can’t find that in space big guy. I’m glad we’re able to take Omega with us to these different planets and worlds. It’s important she knows about the world and everything in it. Good and bad. I just try my bests to let her see the good to remember during those bad times. She’s going to have to fight for a lot in her life, an unfair amount…”

“Hey, listen-“You feel Wrecker stand behind you, putting one hand on your shoulder and gesturing for your other one. You put your hand in his and bring the warm top side of his to your lips, kissing it gently. His hands dwarfed your own, as he did most parts of you. You were always safe when you were with him, and you knew if he wasn’t near, it wouldn’t take much to have him barreling towards you at any moment when you needed him. “We’re gonna look after Omega. We made it this far, I’ll stand in front of anyone that tries to hurt her… Or take her away.”

“I know you would Wreck, we all would. She just adores and admires you all.” You say, his fingers grazing your cheek as you speak. You were honest too. If your run in with the bounty hunters wasn’t enough, you knew in your heart that child was probably the most protected thing in the galaxy.

“She likes you a lot too ya know. She tells me all the time.”

“Does she?” You smile to yourself. The word ‘love’ was seldom used around the ship, usually only regarding Mantell mix by a select few. The feeling was always present of course, the brothers all loved each other, and as the time went on, it extended to both yourself and Omega as well. Wrecker had told you after he told you he loved you for the first time in your relationship, that it was the first time he had said it to someone in such a way.

“She does. She thinks your beautiful, and smart and kind. I like her, she’s a smart kid.” Wrecker lets go of your hand and comes around to the front of your chair. You barely have a moment to look up before he picks you up into his arms like you were nothing, carrying you to the plush bed that was made up in the middle of the room. He sets you down gently and crawls into bed with you. 

“Cause I think you’re beautiful, kind, and smart too.”

You laugh and prop yourself up a little more as Wrecker settles beside you, who is also sitting up to look at you. You extend your hand and cradle his face in your hand, your thumb brushing along his cheekbone. Before you can reply you feel a yawn manifest in your throat before it escapes, your hand covering your mouth as you try and keep your gaze on your favourite trooper.

“Am I that boring?” He chuckles. You swing your legs back over the edge of the bed, starting to unhook your boots. Wrecker gets up from the bed again and walks to your pack, grabbing your sleep pants from it.

“No Wreck of course not. I’m sorry, I just feel really tired suddenly.” You reply, pulling off your boots and setting them beside the bed, keeping them close just in case. You feel his hands slip under your shirt and you let him lift the fabric from your body, leaving you in just a worn sports bra. As you wiggle out of your tactical pants, he hands you the black sweatpants and you slip them on, relishing in the feel of the soft fabric. You never seem to realize how tired your body is until you properly stop for a moment.

“It’s okay baby, it’s been a while since we had a break. Even when we do, you’re always doing something for us, or for Omega.” He says, joining you in bed again. You lay back on his chest, relaxing into him as you look out the array of windows and out into the wilderness around you. You wished you had time to explore more, and to enjoy your time there, but you could already feel sleep tugging you down, not being helped by Wrecker’s fingers grazing up and down you arm.

“I know- but I still wish we had some extra time. We haven’t had a lot of time together either, just the two of us. I’m sorry I’m wasting it.” You sigh, fingers dancing over his chest.

“Don’t worry (y/n).”  Wrecker takes his arm around you and rolls you onto his chest, almost laying you almost on top of him, kissing that spot on your neck that makes your heart thrum. “There’s always the morning. You know how much I like breakfast.”

[starlightrows]

Ready or Not

Pairing: Blanche x f!reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Explicit 18+ only! Fingering, oral (m receiving), p in v sex, no protection (wrap it before you tap it!), mentions of grief and loss, angst, non explicit description of violent injury, blood, more angst, fluff

Inspired by: 1 2 3

AN: I have been wanting to write this fic since freakin January, but I knew I wanted it to be perfect so I kept putting it off... working on it for a bit... hiding from it... working on it some more... rereading the inspiration asks and story notes I made. And then one day I was like, fuck it. I have to do this. I’m putting everything else on hold, because Blanche deserves to be unapologetically loved, god damn it! I will die on this hill! (Can you tell he’s my favorite?) This is also the first time I’ve ever attempted to write smut. That being said, this got way out of hand, and it’s so much longer than I ever intended for it to be, but I put my heart and soul into this. Also, @jangofctts Mama Keida I will never ever be able to thank you enough for creating the Sunburst Squadron and for giving us the divine privilege of writing content for them.

Extra AN: Hey ⚡️ anon (I’ve been calling you Sparky for the past couple months), this was the first fic I ever wanted to write for the Sunburst Boys and it’s based off your ask! So this one goes out to you Sparky!

From the moment you’re assigned to the 343rd, Blanche knows he’s in trouble. An experienced, well trained, highly regarded captain… who just so happens to be a beautiful woman. Trouble indeed.

General Tavik told him that your previous squadron took extremely heavy casualties, and that only you and one other survived. She told him to expect the transition to a new squad to be difficult given the loss was so recent.

On the day of your transfer, Blanche made sure his brothers are spiffed up and on their best behavior. “She is a highly sought after officer,” Blanche reminded them, “at least try to make it seem like we’re worth her effort."

Upon your arrival, Blanche found that you were nothing like he expected. As weeks passed you proved to be every bit the capable and intelligent Captain the squad was promised. But instead of the broken, withdrawn soldier he’d become following his own experience with loss, you surprised him. You were vivacious and outgoing from the very beginning. You got along well with every single one of his brothers, took to your new role quickly, and seemed to make the unit function more smoothly. You were easy going, smart as a whip, funny as hell, and kriffing gorgeous. Oh yeah, Blanche was in trouble for sure.

“Commander?” Your voice rings out in the quiet of his quarters through his com device. His heart jumps, not only at the surprise of the sudden sound but at the prospect of an interaction with you.

“Go ahead Captain,” he answers after a moment to compose himself.

“The General has left me with a pile of requisition forms and data backups, looks like more than a few of them need your signature and approval. I know it’s a bit late, but if you have the time…” you trail off.

“I’m not busy,” he blurts out, “I-I mean, you can come down to my quarters and I’ll take care of you.”

I’ll take care of you? He thought, I’m such a fucking idiot.

“Great! I’ll be there in 5 minutes,” you reply happily. Oh good, maybe you didn’t notice how fucking creepy that sounded.

Just like you’d said, 5 minutes later there is a light tap on the door. Blanche calls for you to enter, and finds that he can not stop himself from staring as you walk in.

“Um… do you mind if I sit?” You ask, indicating the chair beside him.

Idiot, he thought to himself, stop staring and get to work.

“Of course,” he says.

You sit down next to him and place three data pads down on the small desk. You quickly explain what documents are on each one, and which require his signature for each.

“It must have taken you hours to file these reports,” he comments.

You laugh lightly, and continue tapping away on a fourth data pad in your lap. “The joys of command right? All the prestige and all the paperwork that comes with it."

“It’s not all on you to do this though, as the other senior member of command on this squadron these responsibilities fall to both of us,” his gaze meets yours, and he can see the slight look of guilt in your eye.

“Yes, I suppose it does,” you say quietly, suddenly dropping his gaze “I uh- I tend to take on a lot of extra work when dealing with other things."

Blanche understands this wholeheartedly, isn’t that exactly what he’d been doing for the last year and half? “Your first squad?” He asks gently, setting aside the datapad.

You smile at your hands, still avoiding his gaze. “Yes. The 242nd. They were like a family to me. I never had brothers or sisters growing up. But they were like the older brothers I always wanted." You look up suddenly. “Not that the 343rd isn’t wonderful. You’ve all welcomed me with open arms. You just, never forget your first squad, ya know?"

“I know what you mean. We had a 9th member of the squad originally. Even though we’re all brothers… he was mine. He was my little brother,” Blanche surprises himself at his own admission. This is the first time ever since losing Max he’s spoken openly about him.

“I don’t really understand The Force and all that stuff the Jedi use and live by,” you say “But, for the sake of our loved ones, I hope they’re right. I hope your brother and mine have found peace on the other side,”

“Sometimes I think he’s watching over me,” Blanche laughs. “Feels like he’s right there, urging me to step out of my comfort zone or make the right choice."

“See that’s exactly what I don’t want,” you giggle. “I don’t need my brothers looking down at me from the beyond when I’m trying to… uh… be productive” you waggle your eyebrows at him. When Blanche realizes just how close the two of you were sitting together, heat flushes his cheeks and he leans in a bit closer.

“Productive…” he muses, “Then let’s hope they’re not looking,” he dips his head down and captures your lips.

His lips are full and plush, save for the tiny scar on the left side that quirks downward and tickles just a bit in its variant texture. His large hand comes up to cup your face, just as his tongue slides past your lips tasting you.

You moan into the kiss, enjoying it immensely but craving more. You slide forward on the chair, he takes the hint and pulls you up into his lap to straddle him. Experimentally he runs his hands up and down your sides, climbing higher and higher until they’re resting on the outer curve of your breasts. He takes your continued moaning and fervent kisses to be an indication to proceed, he squeezes your breasts through the material of your thin shirt. You roll your hips against him in response, and reach back to unclasp your bra. He tugs your shirt up, over your head and revels in the opportunity to take one of your nipples in his mouth, tweaking and pulling at the other with his fingers.

“Commander.” Your hot breath tickles the shell of his ear, as you roll your hips again.

“Tell me what you want,” he pulls his head up, releasing your breast, and drops his hands down to grip your hips, stopping you from your ceaseless teasing. “If you want something, you have to ask for it."

You whimper at the loss of sensation, how ever little of it you had given all the layers of clothing separating you. “Touch me."

“You’ll have to be a little more specific,” he nips at your neck, teasing you back. You whimper at the attention but can’t find the words to express what you want.

“Fingers,” you manage to get out. “I want you to use your fingers."

He suddenly stands up, bringing you up with him. “Hmm, good girl,” he growls in your ear. He takes the few steps necessary to get to the bed, and drops you down onto it a little more roughly than he had intended. He leans back over to continue kissing you, as he works your pants and underwear off.

Your mouth falls open as his large hand palms your bare cunt, the pad of his thumb sliding between your folds to circle your clit.

“Is this what you wanted, sweet girl?” He purrs, dipping his first finger down to tease your aching hole, pleased to find you already wet.

“So wet for me, aren’t you? But you’re still so tight.” His words send waves of near painful arousal straight to your core. “Think you can take another finger sweet girl?”

“Yes, please, Commander,” you gasp out. You can tell he likes that, being referred to by his title, evident by the stiff tent in his pants rubbing against your thigh.

He slides a second deliciously thick finger in and begins pumping them deftly as you get closer and closer to the edge. He changes the rhythm he’s using to circle your clit, and you’re done for. You come hard and fast, clenching around his fingers.

“Mmm, good girl,” he whispers darkly, you smile up at him and drag his hand up to your mouth to suck his fingers clean. You bat your eyes at him as you swirl your tongue around his fingers, teasing him further.

“You want something else?” He pulls his fingers from your mouth and readjusts them to tilt your head up at him.

“I wanna suck your cock, Commander,” you say sweetly. He grins, loving the thrill of this little game and thoroughly excited at the prospect of it continuing. He moves to lay back against the pillows while you push yourself up to get on top of him. He rids himself of the top half of his fatigues, tossing it somewhere into the rest of the room.

Before you really think about it, you’re reaching out to run your hands over the sunburst tattoo decorating his muscled shoulder. Down over the particularly large scar on his chest. He watches your curious eyes, as they hungrily explore the well defined muscles of his chest and abdomen. Your fingers dip down to the waistband of the bottom half of his fatigues, and pull down.

His cock springs free, curving up towards his stomach. You can’t help staring a little bit as you finish working his pants off of him. You figured he’d be big given his stature, but he is… impressive to say the least.

But you’re feeling brave and up to the challenge so you look up at him. Without breaking eye contact, you take him in your hand, run your tongue up the underside of his shaft and wrap your lips around the head already dribbling precum. He breaks eye contact first, tipping his head back and trying to stifle a moan. Encouraged by his sounds of pleasure you take him further into your mouth, wrapping your hands around what your mouth can’t seem to take.

“So good,” he whimpers, “just like that." You hollow your cheeks and suck a little harder, dropping your other hand down to cup his balls. He’s getting close, the sight of your mouth stretched around him is almost too much for him

“St-stop,” he gets out. Quickly you look back up, and release him from your mouth. “Need to last long enough to fuck you, sweet girl."

With that he flips you over so you’re laying back down against the mattress. He ducks down to suck a mark on your collarbone. “You’re being so good for me, sweet girl. Think you can take this cock?”

“Yes,” your voice is light and breathy, “please Commander, want your cock."

He guides his cock to your entrance, rubbing the head up and down your soaking slit. Carefully he pushes into you, feeling your walls flutter around him. Your hands slide up his back and around his shoulders, feeling yourself stretch around him. It burns just a little, but in a pleasant kind of way that makes you crave more. He pushes in further, sheathing himself inside you.

He stills when he feels that he can’t push in any further, giving you time to adjust to the feeling of complete fullness. After a moment you give his shoulders a gentle squeeze and roll your hips up into him, encouraging him to start moving. He takes your cue and starts a steady rhythm, matching the upward thrust of your hips.

You shift slightly, hitching your leg up over his hip to change the angle. You smother the cry of pleasure that escapes you by burying your face in his neck when he hits something deep and wonderful inside you. He grabs you at your hip, and continues pumping into you.

“Blanche,” you moan out, “I think- I think I’m gonna-“ He can feel you starting to contact around him and he works hard to keep up his pace, fucking you through your impending orgasm.

“Come for me, pretty girl,” he snarls out, feeling himself getting close too. Your body goes rigid for a moment, digging your nails into his back as blinding white hot pleasure tears through you. Your cunt spasms, squeezing him impossibly tighter. A few more good thrusts, and he wrenches himself backwards, out of your grasp and pulls himself out of your wet heat.

He finishes himself off by pumping himself in his fist, cumming over your tits and stomach with a final grunt. He collapses down next to you, breathing heavily. You turn your head to look at him, admiring his gorgeous face. His eyes are closed, but the smile spread across his face as his breathing returns to normal is enchanting. When he does open his eyes, he takes in every feature of your perfect face. If he thought he was in trouble before… there’s no denying it now.

Eventually he gets up and brings a warm washcloth to clean you up. It feels nice, being taken care of like this, not all men are as considerate as Blanche. He comes back to the bed after tossing the washcloth back in the fresher. He leans over you again, and gives you the gentlest kiss on the top of your head.

“Can I get you anything?” He asks. You’ve never seen such tenderness from him, but it’s a welcome surprise.

“Will you just lay with me for a bit?” You reply. He smiles warmly, and pulls you in to cuddle up to his chest. After some time, just lying comfortably in each other’s presence, you guide his hand down to your hip and trace his fingers over the little protrusion in your skin where your contraceptive implant rests.

“Next time, I want you to come inside me,” you whisper to him. He gives your hip a light squeeze, and he slides his hand back up your waist and around your back, keeping you close.

“Next time?” He asks with the barest hint of a chuckle in his voice.

“I hope there’s a next time,” you say honestly, “that was too good to only happen once."

————————————————————————

In the months that follow, it’s almost like that night never happened. At least that’s what it looks like to everyone else. In front of the men you remain friendly but stern given your placement in command. You lead well and interact normally with Blanche. The squad is none the wiser. But when night falls, and everyone else is asleep there is nothing in the galaxy that can keep the two of you apart.

In his quarters or in yours, at times in riskier places if you’re feeling brave. It’s fun keeping a secret, trying to be quiet, exploring each other’s bodies and desires. It doesn’t need a label, it doesn’t get the teasing or scrutiny of the public eye; it’s unspoken and exciting… until one night something changes.

In the pitch black of your quarters, you’re splayed out on your back working to catch your breath and running your fingers through his thick curls that rest on your tummy.

“When this wretched war is over, we’re getting a bigger bed with a stronger frame,” you laugh. He laughs too, but something tugs at him.

When the war is over.

The thought turns over and over in his mind. It’s not like he doesn’t want the war to end. But who knows when that will actually happen. And who’s to say that either one of you will actually live to see the end of it. He feels guilty, laying there in your bed, running his hands down your sides. He’s let this go on for months. Pretending there’s nothing going on between you during the day, and fucking you like his life depends on it at night. All the while knowing either of you could be sent to die without a second thought on any given day. He feels selfish, slightly ashamed, and wrong about the whole thing. This can’t possibly have a future that doesn’t end in tragedy.

This has to stop, he thinks to himself, I can’t do this again.

You notice quickly that something has changed. Just days after that night, he’s acting differently around you. He doesn’t come to your room as often, or ever really. In briefings he makes no effort to include you in strategy planning, or decision making. You’re offended and hurt, but you know it is not your place to make a scene.

Instead, you pull away too. You stop all attempts to com him after hours, you lock the door to your quarters at night when you never used to, and you don’t spend time with him or the Squadron at large if he’s present. Instead you spend time with other members of the Squadron you’re friends with, or more often you spend your free time alone. In a word, you’re miserable. He is miserable.

He tells himself it’s for your own good. He’s doing you a favor by stopping this before you can get hurt. But it’s too late for that, you’re already hurt. You wonder what you did wrong. Why relationships, even ones without titles, have to end this way.

You try to push these thoughts and feelings away, by doing what you do best, burying yourself in work. There’s a very big important mission coming up in tandem with another battalion, the 410th, who are notorious for being difficult to work with.

The night before the mission, you lay in your bed tossing and turning, overcome with anxiety. When there’s a quiet knock at your door. You wonder briefly if you’d imagined it. But it comes again. You get up and go to answer it.

There he is, standing in the doorway looking at you with those beautiful eyes you’re hard pressed to look away from. You know what he wants without him having to say it. And you know you should say no, but you find that you can’t. Because you miss him so much, and you are longing for some kind of closure.

“I’m sorry, I hmmff” he doesn’t get the words out before you jump up, capturing his lips before he can say anything. He catches your legs as they wrap around his hips. He steps inside, and shuts the door with one hand.

This time is different from the others. He’s sweet and gentle, but still reaches that something deep within you that makes you fall apart in the best way possible. It’s like he’s desperate to know every inch of you. He rasps the sweetest praises into your skin, and sucks marks that are sure to stay long enough to make you miss him again.

Instead of falling asleep afterwards, like you know both of you should, you lay awake with your head tucked under his chin. Neither of you speak for the hours and hours that stretch by. Finally, the time comes, he has to leave before the others wake up to get ready for the mission.

He hates himself for failing again. He really thought he could do it. If tomorrow went even half as badly as he was anticipating, he might as well bare his soul to you. He thought he was gonna be strong enough to tell you how he feels. He’d practiced what he wanted to say. Spelled it out while he went down on you. But when it came down to it, he just couldn’t get the words out.

————————————————————————

The mission is a complete failure. Leave it to the 410th to fuck over a mission this badly and drag every other battalion and squad in the vicinity down with them. Blanche is seething, no less than four members of his squad are critically injured. Void already had his hands full keeping Blue and Jaws stabilized on the transport back to the ship, he had to enlist the help of Bruiser to hold down Fuse as he writhes in pain from his injuries. Leaving Blanche to hold an already saturated rag to the profusely bleeding wound on your abdomen.

You grip his blood stained hands, grounding you through the throbbing pain. Your skin is growing paler and clammier by the second. He holds your gaze, begging you to stay focused on him. The intensity in your eyes is fading, and your jaw goes slack.

“Captain,” he barks, pressing harder still. Your head lulls a bit and your eyes refocus on him for a brief moment. “Don’t you let go. You hear me? Don’t let go."

You try. You really do. You cling desperately to his rough hands on your stomach, and do everything you can to keep your eyes locked with his. But it’s too much, it’s beyond your control. You can feel yourself blacking out. The last thing you’re aware of his Blanche whipping his head around and screaming for Void.

You spend hours in surgery getting your perforated organs repaired, and longer still suspended in a bacta tank to get your tissues to heal. Finally you’re cleaned up, and laid down in a private recovery room of the GAR hospital on Coruscant.

Void looks like shit, but if he looks bad, Blanche looks worse. Dark circles under his eyes, unshaven, he hasn’t slept or showered in days. He’s too worried to eat, too scared to sleep.

Void slips out of your room, to find Blanche sitting on the ground just outside the door. Head in his hands, mumbling something under his breath.

“Blanche,” Void says gently. Blanche’s head twitches up, wild eyes searching for answers. “She’s stable now. She’ll be okay."

Blanche nods, trying to make it seem like is just relieved a member of their team is recovering. It’s not like that isn’t true. Void places a hand on Blanche’s shoulder.

“You can go see her. I’ll make sure no one goes in,” he said in a low voice. Blanche narrows his mismatched eyes. Void knew? How long has he known? Does it even matter right now?

He chooses not to think about it for the moment. Instead he hauls his miserable ass off the cold linoleum floor, and pushes open the door.

You look so small and pale laying there in the uncomfortable hospital bed. He approaches slowly, forgoing the guest chair at the foot of the bed. Instead he stands right next to you, gingerly picking up your hand. You open your eyes, despite how heavy your lids feel. His other hand moves to brush back some of your hair. Neither of you can find words, you’re lost in each other’s teary gaze.

He settles one leg on the bed, coming to sit with you and continues stroking your hair. He can feel his breathing getting shorter, and the tears in his eyes beginning to well up. He couldn’t stop this if he tried. The tears spilled over, and he winced.

“I can’t stand it,” he says shakily through his tears. “I can’t fucking stand it”

His hand stills over your cheek, a firm but gentle grip that commands your attention and grounds you in this moment. Your brow furrows in a silent question.

“I can’t stand the thought of losing you.” He’s just barely able to get the words out, his chest aches as he tries to hold back the ugly sob working its way up into this throat.

Both of his hands cradle your face, thumbs wiping away the tears that steak down your cheeks. He takes another shuddery breath, and whispers your name. “I love you,” he says. “I love you so much it hurts sometimes. I need you. I need you in my life. I don’t feel whole without you. I can’t stand the thought of being without you,” he cries, tipping his head forward to rest against your forehead. “Please, please, please, tell me I’m not alone in feeling this way”

“Blanche.” Your voice is gravely and hoarse, and just saying his name causes you to cough. He helps you sit up, and holds your shoulder while you work to clear your throat.

“I love you too,” you whisper. “You mean everything to me.” You snake your arms under his and settle your hands on the backs of his shoulders, drawing him into you.

He envelopes you into his body, careful of your sore abdominal muscles. His tears still flow, but they are tears of joy. That you’re alive. That you love him back. That there’s a chance for the two of you when this is all over. Maybe one of both of you wouldn’t make it to that end, but being with you for whatever time there is left is worth it.

“You’re mine. You’re my girl. You’re my baby,” he whispers, punctuating his statements with the tiniest of kisses. The familiar warmth of his body, the easy rise and fall of his chest, makes you feel safe. You can feel yourself slipping back into sleep. But you don’t fight it, you know that you need to rest.

When you’ve fully gone back to sleep, Blanche holds you a little longer. Not ready to leave you just yet. Despite Void’s assurance that you were stable and you’d be okay, he’s scared to leave you by yourself. But he can’t stay forever. Eventually he settles you down onto the pillow, and makes sure you’re fully tucked in. Before he goes, he leaves you one last lingering kiss.

[sophialikesthings]

Death Of Me Chapter 2.4

Talk Fast- Five Seconds Of Summer

"Here we are." Pope pulled up.

"Talk about home security, are these spikes to keep people out?" JJ asked.

"Those are the slave quarters... these spikes are to keep people in."

"This place gives me the creeps." I shuddered, as Pope knocked the gold lion door knocker.

"You must be Pope." A creepy old guy opened the door.

"The instructions were explicit, your friends can stay outside." He led Pope inside.

"I have a bad feeling about this." I groaned as we walked back to the car.

"What do you think they're talking about." Kiara asked. "Look if Limbrey's legit, then Ward gets arrested, and Sarah, Rafe and Wheezie get the gold."

"Hold on, does that look voluntary?" I pointed to Pope who was getting dragged outside.

"That would be a negative." JJ said starting the truck, "Looks like they're headed to the alley, we'll follow them out back."

We drove around back looking to see in between the houses, if Pope was there.

"I don't understand where did they go?" I asked.

"What if they wend underground? 'cause in C.H.U.D., when they took people down into the sewers, it would turn the humans into humanoids 'cause of the radiation." JJ went on.

"Focus. That doesn't make any sense." I shut him up.

"right, sorry. Did you see him?"

"No."

"Wait." I quickly hopped out of the truck.

JJ and Kie followed, Pope was beaten down to the floor by the mysterious guy.

I kicked him where it hurts and JJ kicked the taser toward Kie and we all made a run for it.

"GO!" We all hopped in the truck and JJ floored it.

"Hurry." I yelled, causing JJ to almost hit a couple walking in the street.

"JJ!" I screamed.

He took a sharp turn causing the truck to erupt with smoke again.

"You said he fixed the carburetor!" JJ yelled.

"Not the time!" I jumped out of the car.

We all ran as fast as we could.

"Guys! I think he has a gun." I yelled, picking up my pace.

JJ shoved a delivery guy out of the way.

we turned the corner quickly to be greeted by Sarah and John B.

"Save the reunion." I hopped on to their cart.

We eventually lost them and headed back to the boat John B and Sarah stole

We exchanged stories as we rode back to OBX.

===

"Anybody else starving? we need to go grab breakfast." JJ groaned as his stomach grumbled.

===

"Jackpot!" Kiara held up a watermelon.

we broke it open and sat down.

"Hold on, so you guys got married." I asked. grabbing a handful of watermelon.

"It wasn't exactly legal,but...yeah." She smiled."What about you two? Any updates."

"JJ and I kissed." I blurted out.

"WHAT!" They both started freaking out.

"Finally, I mean jesus, I thought you two were gonna make out ages ago." Kiara laughed.

===

3 POV

"So uh, what's going on with you and Kie?" John B asked Pope.

"Uh, honestly I don't know right now, man. I mean, I definitely like her, and I'm sure she likes me. But there is conflicting data." Pope sighed looking down at his feet.

"All right, man, look, women, all right, like they're just not consistent." JJ hopped down from the top of the boat, and sat down across from his conflicted friend.

"All right, we're not gonna take female advice from JJ, i mean he is screwing the kook queen and is to scared to tell her he loves her." John B laughed.

"Hey, we only kissed!" JJ defended himself.

"That, is how you get a confession." John B pointed at a now flustered JJ.

"It's confusing man, I really like her, but with all this Rafe shit, she is scared that if she leaves him, he will do something stupid, or he will hurt her."

===

Demi POV

We were walking back, carrying our watermelons, when we overheard JJ talking.

"She is scared that if she leaves him, he will do something stupid, or he will hurt her."

"What y'all talking about?" I asked handing JJ the watermelon.

"Fishing." John B lied, rescuing JJ from embarrassment.

===

"Ready? GO!" We all chugged our beers as fast as we could, me winning with JJ slightly behind.

At this point in the night we were all high as a kite and as drunk as a skunk

I changed into my swimsuit and JJ's hat and Glasses, I sat on the edge of the infamous 'Cat's Ass' with Sarah laughing at all the stupid shit the boys were doing.

The night died down and we just sat around the campfire laughing as Pope and JJ wrestled.

===

"JJ!" I called him over.

"Hold on." John B stopped us.

"I heard a car door." He rushed over to the tree. after putting the fire out.

He boosted Sarah and I up and climbed up with JJ.

"Whats going on?" I got scared, "Why are they here?" I whispered at JJ, who was facing me.

"Where the hell are you." Rafe murmured.

"So your sister and girlfriend are Pogues now?" Barry chuckled looking at the tree.

"Demi is too smart to hang out with them." Rafe laughed with Barry.

"Shit!" Rafe yelled causing me to cling onto JJ.

"It's okay." He hugged me.

"We need to go, before you get our asses caught." Barry dragged Rafe back to the car.

===

"If rafe and Barry know, It's only a matter of time before everyone knows." I said.

"He's gonna have to choose between me and Rafe, I know he will choose me." Sarah sighed.

"Lets try." I hugged her.

"Sarah, Ward keeps lying to you!" John B warned her.

"It's worth a Shot." She ran over to the boat.

===

"Shit! It's my Dad!" I ran, the others followed.

We ran through the swamp until they had us surrounded.

"There is no getting out of it, we gotta make a stand." JJ cleaned off his gun.

I ran out in front of the police and held my hands up.

"Dad, please, don't do this, They aren't bad people." I cried.

"What did we talk about, again and again, no more pogues!" He yelled at me

"Don't hurt them, and I'll stay away I wont hang out with them anymore . Please." I begged.

"I promise." I looked back at them.

"Okay, go home." He demanded.

"Yes sir." I walked away

===

Journal Entry #9

I don't even know if this is nine. I don't care, Am I a piece of shit? Was that selfish? I am just doing what I think is right, I need to protect them, even if it means letting them go.

[bexterbex]

A Soul to Mend His Own | Ch. 10

Warning, if it hasn’t been obvious in the movies there is Nazi symbolism within the First Order. I will expand on this much more throughout the story. If this is something that bothers you, please just exit the story. The author does not condone any Nazi ideals, this is just for fictional uses only.

A Kylo Ren x Modern! Reader in a soulmate au with some canon divergence. —————————————SLOWBURN————————————–He is already the Supreme leader, searching the universe to find you, his Empress. Your name on his wrist has been the only constant in his life, while you have doubts about his existence and his acceptance of you. He isn’t in the database and why did the name Kylo Ren cover Ben Solo?

Originally posted on my Ao3 Crystallclover (If you can’t find it here)

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7a | 7b | 8 | 9a | 9b | 

Let me know what you think in the comments.

Chapter 10: Of Pageantry and Health

Summary: “It is an honor to meet you, ma’am,” said General Pryde who bowed slightly. This made you feel weird, being treated as something you are not, or at least not yet. 

_______________________________________________________________________

Now strapped in the general received a message on his data pad. “The Supreme Leader would like it if I talked you through how this evening will go, both at the public address and when we return to the Steadfast tonight. Once the first step of First Order occupation of Earth is complete, the Supreme Leader will leave a general in charge and you will be taken to the Supremacy,” said Allegiant General Armitage Hux. 

“May I take some notes,” you ask. The general nodded and you proceeded to take out a small notebook from your work tote. 

“Tonight you will not be on main display at the public address but you will be present. At precisely 7 PM EST the Supreme Leader will give his public address on the dais outside the White House to all media. It will be brief but effective, then I will give my own public address immediately afterward once that it is finished it will be the first time your planet will hear the First Order anthem, which will conclude the address. You will most likely be standing off to the side with the other High Command officers. Once the address has been concluded you will be taken to an Upsilon-class command shuttle, Supreme Leader Ren’s private shuttle, and you will be escorted by TIE fighters to the Steadfast,” the general said pausing as you were struggling to keep up with the information. When he had seen that you had caught up he continued.

“When you embark on the Steadfast there will be a full salute from on-duty officers and a battalion of stormtroopers in the hanger bay. You and he will probably pause, you behind him, and they will salute and you will go on your way to his quarters. He will probably give you a tour of the Steadfast tomorrow morning or that evening if there is time. Moving about the ship you will use your FOI to gain access to different places,” noted the general. 

“You will also notice that day and night on the ship are simulated when the night is simulated the lights and hallways of the ship are darker. The worker shifts are split up into 6-hour increments, Alpha from 04:00-10:00 hours, Beta from 10:00-16:00 hours, Gamma 16:00-20:00 hours, and Delta from 20:00-04:00. Currently, we are matching Earth’s cycle and matching to EST, as that is most convenient for the Supreme Leader and High Command Officers. This should be something worth noting as we have yet to have a base planet so you may be spending lots of time onboard ships,” said the general.

You caught up to the general again now realizing something, “I wasn’t given a First Order Identification number. I didn’t really finish my registration, they escorted me in the middle of it I believe.”

“Yes, I’ll pull up your file,” he said while pulling out a data pad. “That is easy for your identification

The number is AA-0002. The Supreme Leader’s is AA-0001. That should be easy for you to remember but I will have dog tags commissioned for you so you will not have to enter it every time you want to change basic access rooms.” With that, you saw him type in some messages into the data pad and he returned back to you. “Do you have any other questions so far? We are almost there.”

“I will just be standing off to the side during the public address and will not need to do anything else, correct,” you ask.

“Correct, unless the Supreme Leader asks you to, but I doubt he will make you do anything more today.” Then the pilot informed the general of your arrival back at the White House and you departed the ship. This time you were graced by the presence of the Supreme Leader himself. 

“Do you have everything you need,” asked Kylo, his voice still distorted under the mask. 

“I believe so. How much time until your address,” you ask. 

“An hour, we can return to the sitting room if you would like,” you nodded in response. Kylo had ordered a junior officer to take your bags to his ship. You took your phone and notebook out of your work tote before handing it over. You followed Kylo to the same red sitting room you were in before. He ordered a junior officer to bring you some refreshments. Once the officer left he took off the helmet. “I hope that your flights today weren’t too exhausting.”

“They were fine, more like long car rides than flights. Did your meeting last the entire time while I was gone,” you asked.

“No, I have had two more since then. Trying to bring your home planet up to speed. Today we discussing health regulations. Unfortunately, many people on your planet are behind on simple things such as vaccinations and health check-ups, some places lake basic hygiene. Along with education, this is a priority within the First Order. Unfortunately, this will make the first step much longer. I have had to call upon the Finalizer to be based here so we can speed up the process but even with light speed they will take 3 days two get here,” commented Kylo. 

There was a knock on the door which prompted him to put on his helmet. He told the junior officer to come in and leave the tray of coffee and light snack food. Once the officer had left he removed his helmet and joined you. “I hope you don’t mind we will be eating dinner on board the Steadfast tonight after the address.”

You shook your head no in response, enjoying your coffee. “The general informed me of how tonight was going to go, I assumed because we were getting back so close to the address and that we would be leaving right after that this was a possibility.”

You saw him give a ghost of a smile at this. You had so many questions you wanted to ask but now didn’t seem to be the time, nor the place. Finishing your coffee and a light snack you placed your cup back on the tray. 

There was a knock on the door, Kylo once again put on his helmet and told whoever was at the door to come in. 

General Hux walked in, “Supreme Leader, the preparations for the address are about to begin. It has been requested that we go to the dais.”

“Very well,” responded Kylo who moved to stand. You followed his lead and followed both of them down the hall and out to the front lawn. 

There you could really see what you only saw on the tv the past few days. The large red banners, the battalion of stormtroopers. The line of officers off the side of the stage. The huge number of media personnel, waiting for your arrival. While Kylo took to the stage the general took the time to bring you to the other officers and instructed you that General Pryde would help you during the address. 

“It is an honor to meet you, ma’am,” said General Pryde who bowed slightly. 

This made you feel weird, being treated as something you are not, or at least not yet. 

“If you will stand next to me, we shall be standing during the whole address. During the anthem stand at attention and place your left hand over your heart, I believe you do something similar for the U.S. anthem anyways,” said the general with an eerie air about him. 

You moved to stand next to him. He on the outside of the aisle in the front row and you the next person in line. About 20 other officers were in your row and about for rows deep were the ones present. You glanced up at the stage knowing it would be soon that the address would begin, you saw Kylo glance in your direction to you it seemed as if he was looking directly at you, but with the mask, you couldn’t be sure. But you swore he was looking at you, a small shock went through your spine and made you break your unknown eye contact. 7 PM struck. 

Kylo or Supreme Leader Ren began to speak, “The First Order takes pride in the health of its citizens. Currently, the health of your planet is substandard to the high standards that the First Order keeps. 

When intergalactic trade becomes available to Earth you will be exposed to a number of possible new diseases. The First Order takes many precautions to the health of its citizens so a new mandatory health regime will begin once you have been registered. 

Vaccines against intergalactic diseases will be administered. This is so we can preserve life and prevent any death that we can. 

First Order citizens are the healthiest and happiest in the galaxy. We are pleased that Earth will now be brought up to speed medically. That is all.” With that, he stepped back from the podium and Allegiant General Hux stepped forward. 

“Starting tomorrow alongside registration stations you will find medical facilities to be able to receive these new vaccines and health check-ups. Only once you are registered may you receive these vaccines. Once you have received this health check-up you will receive a health schedule and regime along with standard-issue medications from the top of the lIne First Order medical staff. 

It is paramount that all First Order citizens take their health seriously. A strong individual makes for a strong empire. A strong and healthy citizen is a good citizen within the First Order. Any citizen who has an issue with this health regime should direct their comments and concerns to any Stormtrooper or First Order officer at their local health station. Personal health is part of the foundation of organizational purity.” With that, the general stepped back and Kylo stepped forward. 

The anthem started, TIE fighters flew overhead in a blue angels sort of style. There were no words being spoken. The anthem had a march-like quality to it, and a dark one too. At the end

You saw all of the officers and stormtroopers raise their left hand into the air as a sort of salute. Kylo had his left hand over his heart in a fist with his index and thumb showing. You kept your position as it was what General Pryde had instructed you to do. 

Once Kylo dropped his hand the officers did too and then the stormtroopers. He moved to leave the stage as did General Hux. 

“Follow me,” said General Pryde. And you did, he brought you over to where a large closed book looking ship was, and where Kylo and General Hux where along with the silver armored stormtrooper you know to be Captain Phasma. 

Kylo gestured for you to enter the ship first, which was somewhat of a shock to the generals, but you obliged. You entered and paused not knowing where you were to sit. Kylo was right behind you. He sat in the middle right, you sat to the left of him and started to buckle. Once you were buckled in he reached over to check the straps, to make sure they were secured. This made you blush and sneak a peek at him. He glanced up at you, although still wearing his mask you felt as if you locked eyes for a second before he sat back in his seat and buckled himself. The pilot informed you of departure and you were off to the Steadfast.

[theoriginalladya]

Physical Affection Prompt

@scarletthalloran asked for a prompt for Gabriel “Ree” Shepard and Kaidan, so here we go!  The Avenging Angel of Mindoir does have a softer side after all!  ;)

Setting: Vancouver HQ, five months after Shepard’s return to Earth.  2186

Physical Affection Prompt:  #3:  smiling into a kiss   

from this prompt list  

On AO3 here

~~~

Vega leads Gabriel through the winding halls of Vancouver HQ with a purposeful stride and more than a little enthusiasm, and even Gabriel, who cannot in the remotest sense be considered ‘out of shape,’ finds it a challenge to keep up with him.  “Where are we going?” he asks for the third time since Vega pulls him from his quarters in the Detention Center.  

“Can’t say, commander,” the lieutenant replies as he jumps onto a just emptied elevator and holds the door.  Gabriel follows.  “All I know is I’m to take you to the conference rooms ASAP.”

The conference rooms.  Gabriel sighs as the elevator starts to descend.  Probably another meeting with his defense team, then.  Maybe there’s been an update on his proceedings or something.  The trip down is short, and upon arrival, Vega is quick to lead the way out. Instead of turning to their right, however, they go to the left.  That startles Shepard more than just a little.  “I thought you said the conference rooms?”

Vega chuckles and winks.  “I did say that, didn’t I?  Must’ve gotten lost.”

The hall they head down is long, narrow, and has over a dozen doors branching off both sides to smaller rooms.  This isn’t the conference center, but part of the administrative wing; various clerk offices and the like.  About halfway down, Vega makes a sharp right into a shorter corridor, this one containing a half dozen doors, all on the right side.  To the left is a wall of windows.  The come to a stop just outside of the second to last door.  “Here you go, sir,” the lieutenant says, scanning his palm over the lockpad to open the door.  “I’ll be out here when you’re done.”

Years of taking orders without question are about the only thing that moves Gabriel forward in that moment.  As soon as he is a foot clear of the doorway, it shuts behind him, leaving him in the dark.  There is a window on the far side of the room, but the shades are drawn to block the sun. The room itself is dark, surprisingly so for a meeting, but Gabriel has no idea where the switch is, and has no omni-tool available to throw a bit of light on the subject, so he is stuck.

Throw …

The thought triggers another, and his right hand flexes absently.  As always, without his amp it is more difficult to draw the dark energy to him, to control it the way he is used to.  Still, if it gives him a way to see better, it’s worth a shot, as crude and rudimentary as it is.  Focusing his thoughts as he was trained is easy enough, but not having his amp takes longer.  After a moment or two, he manages to wrap just enough around his right hand.  The help it provides is negligible in the end, but it’s worth it simply for the satisfaction of knowing he can do it in an emergency, if necessary.

To his left and about halfway across the room, the soft chirrup of an omni-tool stirring to life, followed by the orangish-amber glow, catches his attention, followed by a voice, strikingly familiar and completely unexpected.  “You’re going to give yourself a migraine if you aren’t careful, Ree.”

Gabriel’s breath catches in his chest.  “Kaidan?” he breathes, releasing his hold on the energy and plunging himself back into near complete darkness.  

Kaidan steps closer, out of the shadows, the glow of his omni-tool framing his face and a hint of a smile on his lips in its eerie light. “Hey, there.”

Gabriel sighs softly, unexpectedly content for the first time since …  Well, since Cerberus brought him back, really.  Still, this isn’t exactly protocol for a man in his position, and if anyone knows that, it’s Kaidan Alenko.  Frowning, he folds his arms casually across his chest, asking, “You now part of my defense team?”

Kaidan chuckles softly, lips curling into a full smile.  “Not exactly.”

“Then why are you here?”  

There is a moment of silent hesitation before he replies, “Anderson owed me a favor.”

Gabriel blinks.  Owed you a favor?  How the hell did you manage that?  He opens his mouth to ask, even starts to form the words, then slams it shut once more, muttering, “Forget that, I don’t want to know.”

Another laugh.  “Safer for you that way,” Kaidan agrees and moves a couple more steps closer.

Gabriel follows his every step, eyes locked onto the amber-brown that look more yellow-orange in this light.  He thinks back to the last time he saw them, the grief and sorrow that mirrored his own for those brief moments after the Omega-4 Relay run and his journey back to Earth.  But when they parted that day, the situation between them had been on better terms.  He has no idea if that is still the case.  “Is there a reason for your visit?”

The corner of Kaidan’s lips twitch.  “Thought you might like to see a friendly face for a few minutes.”

The Butcher of Torfan’s eyebrow arches.  “How few?”

“No more than fifteen.”

Gabriel breaks eye contact first, his head dropping toward his chest and arms falling to his sides.  “Better than I expected.”

“Like I said, Anderson owed me.”  Kaidan takes another step forward until there are barely a handful of inches separating them.  “How are you, Ree?  Really?”

Gabriel is half tempted to simply say fine and be done with it, but there is a sincerity in the plea that reaches deep inside and wraps around his heart, refusing to let go.  Memories of better times, of realizing there is far more between them than either cold have ever guessed, of risking it all for just one moment.    

Lifting his head again, he straightens to his full height.  When their eyes meet this time, there is a flicker of some kind of emotion behind Kaidan’s, or maybe it is simply a fluctuation of light dispensed by the omni-tool.  The hidden, romantic side of Ree Shepard wants to believe what they once had is still there, just waiting for the right moment.  

“I –.”  He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, huffing softly, and muttering, “Why the hell are you making small talk at a time like this?  You know I’m no good at it.”

Kaidan’s lips curve into a full-fledged, knowing grin. “Just testing to see how far gone you really are after six months of house arrest.”

An expectant look fills his eyes as Gabriel sorts. “And, doctor?” he quips.  “What is your diagnosis?”

Kaidan lifts his free hand to slide over Gabriel’s shoulder and cup the back of his head, gently urging him closer.  Gabriel moves without hesitation.  As they angle their heads, lips touching lightly, Kaidan’s grin does not diminish.  “Insufficient data,” he murmurs.  

Gabriel’s lips twitch and he huffs softly just as Kaidan kisses him.  Closing his eyes, he leans into the touch, relishing it, savoring it.  God knows how long it will have to sustain him …

[x-reader-theater]

Even Shields can’t Protect my Heart

Relationship: William T. Riker X Male!Engineer!Reader

Summary: Serving on the Enterprise is a dream come true, and the people only make it better. 

Warnings: Cursing, and lots of engineer jargon that’s probably woefully incorrect. 

Word Count: 10,382 words

A/N: Ho-ly shit. This is a long time coming. And it’s super long. Wow. Well, I didn’t want to do another series so here’s a ten thousand word something that I wrote because I’ve been obsessed with Star Trek for the past two months, and there’s barely any reader stuff for Next Generation, and no Male readers whatsoever, which is disappointing. But, I’ve written something purely for my own amusement. I feel a little bit like Q, but I love them so that’s not a bad thing. Anyways, please like, reblog, and tell me what you think! Asks are always appreciated! <3

"Computer! Where is Commander Riker?" You call out from your personal quarters. You're seated at your desk, papers all around you. 

"Commander Riker is in holodeck three," Computer responds. "Would you like me to hail him?" 

You shake your head. "No, Computer, that's alright thank you." You stand up from your desk and reaffix your badge to your shirt, making sure your pips are still attached to your lapel. Satisfied with how you present you leave your quarters, making a beeline to the holodeck suits. You've used them once or twice before, recreating your small ranch where you're from. It wasn't the same without the actual people there though. There was only so much you could program the computer to do. 

As you round the corner you slam into someone coming at you at full force. You stumble back, catching yourself on the wall before looking up into the face of Data, who was walking through the halls staring at his data-padd. You laugh in your head at that one. 

"I am sorry, Lieutenant. I did not see you there," Data states, looking down at you. 

You straighten out and brush yourself off out of habit. "It's alright Data. What were you so focused on there?" You lean forward to see what he's looking at. 

"Oh, it is just a simple riddle Commander LaForge has given me."

You smile. "If it's so simple, why are you so concerned with it?" Data looks confused for a moment and you pat him on the shoulder. "Sometimes Data, the most complicated questions have the simplest of answers." 

And with that you leave, turning around the corner to the holodeck suits. You hear Data say behind you, "Oh! Silence!" and you laugh as you walk. Coming upon holodeck three, you tap the open button, and watch as the doors open to reveal a bar, 1950s in decoration, and a few men standing on the stage, Commander Riker being one, playing to an empty room. Riker sets down his trombone and looks at you with an eyebrow raised. 

"Commander Riker, I had a question for you… but I seem to have… forgotten it…" you say, trailing off for a moment. "What… is this place?" 

You look around the bar, and cock your head at the sight of no people. "It's just something of my creation. The people held a bad memory, but I love the space, the atmosphere." Riker smiles and looks around. "It's like no other." 

You smile and sit down at one of the tables, saying to the room, “Computer, can I get a glass of whiskey please?” You feel pleased when it appears in your hand. You take a sip of the non-alcoholic recreation and gesture with the glass towards Riker. "Don't stop on my account. Maybe when you're playing the question will return to me," you say with a sly smile. You have no idea where this burst of confidence came from, where this spark of self worth and ability to flirt with the Commander came from. You just really wanted to hear the Commander play. 

You get your wish. Commander Riker picks up the trombone again and perfectly slots himself into the already playing band. His playing makes you close your eyes. You had no idea the commander could play an instrument. He isn't perfect or absolutely amazing to any extent, but he is good. And you are seeing a side of the commander you've never seen before. 

You get up, slowly letting the music carry you to the bar, where you let the holodeck refill your glass of non-alcoholic Whiskey. You smile languidly and watch as the amber liquid fills the cup once more. Picking up the glass you place it to your lips, taking a drink of the burning, but still pleasing, liquid. Setting the glass down you see the Commander start to set down the trombone. You raise your eyebrows and watch as he comes over. 

"Why did you stop?" You ask as he sits across from you. The music hasn't stopped, no you feel all the eyes of the players on your back. For being a simulation, they feel incredibly real. 

Riker summons a glass of a dark liquid. It fizzes and doesn't look like alcohol. It gives off a sweet smell. "It's hard to talk with a 'bone to your lips," he says casually. 

"What do you want to talk about?" You cross your legs and set your glass down on the bar, before folding your hands in your lap. 

Riker sighs and looks at his own glass, the dark liquid filling up again in the glass, as if by magic, but you knew it was the computer. "You're a new officer, correct?" He asks. 

You lean back against the bar slightly, placing an elbow on the dark wood to steady yourself, your fingers still intertwined. You shrug. "Relatively. About two years. Shorter than most on the ship. Much less than yourself," you respond carefully. You don't want to say the wrong thing and break what you have just built up. It was a delicate sort of conversation that was precious. 

The Commander clears his throat and reaches out, as if to touch you, bit he stops himself. "I-uh…" He clears his throat. "I was wondering how you were feeling about your time on the Enterprise? You have progressed remarkably fast through the ranks of Starfleet. There have only been three others faster than you Lieutenant. Ahem, Lieutenant Junior Grade [L/N]." 

You smile and unclasp your hands. "I am enjoying my time here immensely Commander Riker," you respond in kind, a genuine smile on your face. 

The Commander puts his hand up for a moment to stop you from speaking. "Please. In a setting like this, just William is fine." 

You smile. "Okay, William. As long as you call me [Y/N]." 

The Commander, William, nods. "Yes, yes, of course. It's only fair."

You smile, humorously. "And you're nothing if not fair," you joke. He laughs quietly. "But yes, William. I am having a very good time here on the Enterprise. I never thought it possible for me to have this, this position, be on this ship, know these people. After I was transferred from the U.S.S. Valentina, I thought I could never never find family again." You laugh as you lean back, thinking about your messed up family. "The captain, well, he's like an overbearing father you just can't help but love." You laugh at the idea of being a father. "Dr. Crusher is obviously the mother. Lieutenant Commander Data is like a brother, Geordi the same, but also different. Lieutenant Commander Worf is that fun uncle who always tries to get you to do things dad doesn't want you to." You start laughing when you think back to that time Worf tried to teach you how to fight like a Klingon with a Bat Leth. Or that time he trained you to use an actual Klingon D'k Tahg. "And Counselor Troi is like an aunt who always knows what's best for you." 

"What about me?" William asks, leaning forward slightly. 

"You?" You contemplate for a moment. Where did you see him? "I don't exactly know. You're not a brother, an uncle, a father. You've just sort of… been there. I don't know…" you trail off, looking away at the floor. You feel your cheeks flush slightly, and shake your head, hoping William doesn't notice. 

You get up suddenly, not looking at William. You clear your throat. "Ahem, excuse me. I need to get back to work." 

You go to leave, but William grabs your wrist. "Why, we were just getting comfortable." You know he's smirking, and you feel pain in your chest as you pull away. 

"Please Commander. I have neglected my duty long enough. I must get to engineering," you say, walking away from the Commander. 

"Computer, end simulation," Riker says, but that doesn't stop you from walking out of the doors and making your way to engineering, leaving the Commander alone in the empty holodeck. 

--

It's three weeks until you see the Commander again. You've been keeping to yourself, talking to Geordi and Data mostly out of the you've gotten a few direct orders from the Captain and even Commander Riker, but you haven't seen him in person ever since that time in the holodeck. If you even hear him talking in the hallway, without even looking you will turn away, your cheeks flaming up. 

Now, you can't ignore it. The Commander is standing right beside you, leaning over the console, his chest and inch away from your shoulder. 

"What do we see here Lieutenant?" The Commander asks. 

You point to a blip on the screen and say to Riker, "It seems there's some interference coming from the planet below Commander. It's sending out wave after wave of radiation I've never seen before. I asked the computer and they couldn't find a single thing like it!" You exclaim. You have a grin on your face as you say this. 

"Why so cheery Lieutenant?" Commander Riker asks. 

"Well, this is all so new! I've been studying different kinds of radiation since my academy days and I just can't find anything related to it. Permission to do a deep scan and some tests? It would be better to get my hands on some of the radiation up close, but we don't know how dangerous this is!" You exclaim excitedly. 

Riker chuckles and says in a low tone, "Sure. Go for it." You smile and turn to start the deep scan of the radiation. Riker doesn't move. "I didn't know this was an area of expertise for you. I would have had you come on this ship earlier." 

You roll your eyes and look up at him. “Yes because you care so much for engineering.” 

He chuckles and shakes his head. “You’d be surprised about what I’m interested in.” 

“Oh I’d like to know more about those interests that I supposedly do not know about,” you say with a smirk. 

The computer beeps and you and you turn away from the Commander to look at the results. It’s a low grade radiation, something with a lot of energy, not harmful to humanoids but harmful to smaller life forms. Children might be susceptible to it. It’s nothing like you’ve ever seen before. “Hm… Interesting,” you say, leaning into the screen. 

“What is it?” Riker asks, leaning in with you. 

“I’ve never seen anything like this. It must have something to do with the geology of this planet. Permission to run a scan of the surrounding area? I want to make sure everything is safe for the captain to report to Starfleet, so we can actually put a colony here,” you explain. 

The Commander nods. “Of course.” He gets up to leave, but stops before exiting engineering. “And Lieutenant?” You look behind you, pausing in your work for just a moment. “Meet me in Ten Forward. At 2000 hours.” He grins at you and you nod. He walks out of the room and your eyes don’t leave him until the doors from engineering close behind him. You’re smiling, happy with the conversation you just had with the commander, and excited for tonight, for you to meet with the commander tonight. You don’t know what it means, what this flirting thing you have with the commander is, what’s going on between the two of you. But you do know one thing:

You're so fucked. 

--

Ten Forward is close to empty by the time you step into the main room. The secondary shift for the night has taken their positions for the night, which means most of those who usually populate Ten Forward are on duty. 

Commander Riker must have chosen this time specifically because of the lack of distractions. He's very good at what he does. 

You spot him by one of the windows overlooking all of space. He looks very regal silhouetted against the dark expanse of the universe, still in his command uniform. You’d be surprised if he didn’t sleep in it. You yourself have changed out of your engineering gold into something more casual, something that reminds you of home. No one really dresses like this anymore, but your family has always been one for tradition. Your checkered button down is tucked into your boot-cut blue jeans, which are over a pair of old cowboy boots. They were your grandfathers, and they are still in beautiful condition. You walk over to the commander, your hands behind your back, wringing out your fingers as you approach. You can feel the bile rising from your chest but you swallow it down. The hairs on your arms stand on end the closer you walk. The clicking of your boots is the only sound you hear over the roaring of blood in your ears. 

Riker looks up at you as you approach the table. His face breaks out in a smile so genuine you're afraid his face might split in twain. 

You sit down in front of him. There's music playing in the background. Light piano. Nothing you recognize. Riker must have asked Guinan to play it. You sit down in front of the Commander. 

"Hello Mr. [L/N]. I didn’t think you would make it," he says as you take your seat. 

"Hello Mr. Riker. I was caught up in engineering. Geordi had to physically pry me from my chair," you return. 

Riker leans back and chuckles. "Please. Like I said, call me William." 

“And like I responded, call me [Y/N].” You lean back in your chair and cross your arms. “I’m not on duty, am I?” 

William chuckles and leans in as someone comes up to your table, a man who’s carrying a drink tray. “Hello, what can I get you?”

You don’t take your eyes off William as you say to the server, “Whiskey. Real.”

The server turns and begins to address the man leaning into you, but he interrupts. “I would like the same.”

You look up at the server and say to him, “And can you get us some Texas Barbeque? My father’s recipe if you will. It will be under [L/N]’s Texas Barbeque.” The server nods and you smile at him as he walks away. William is staring at you, incredulous and a little confused. “What? I’m feeling nostalgic tonight.” 

“Is that why you’ve dressed up?” William asks 

You chuckle. “I think to most this would be considered dressing down.” William laughs lightly along with you. “But yes. While the rest of the world has progressed past the need to ranch animals, my family has resisted the change. But, with that, they also make the best Barbeque you can find.”

William smiles. “I see. What does this ‘ranching’ entail exactly?” 

You shrug. “It’s mainly just raising animals. My family's been doing it for ages. They used to go into the larger town, I believe it was called Austin before San Antonio grew too large and incorporated it," you explain. "Anyways, they would kill the older chickens, pigs, and cows to sell to local butchers. Or on Sundays there was something called a "Farmers Market" when there were more farmers than there are now." You lean back in your chair and cross your arms. "Now we just raise the animals, taking care of them before they die." You grin as a large plate of Barbeque is brought over and places in front of you. It's beef, you recall as you bring up the family recipe in your mind. "Amd, if an animal gets injured or otherwise can't take care of itself, we kill it, cook up the meat into barbeque, and use the bones, hooves or feet, beaks, and anything 'inedible' and use it to make a broth. That allows us to make soups and other foods that last us a long time. At least until the next animal dies."

You pick up the barbeque with your fingers as William goes for his fork and knife. He looks at you quizzically before setting down the utensils and going in with his bare hands. You smile at that. You take a bite of the sweet but slightly charred meat, the juices running over your tongue and down your chin. You let out a small laugh and chew as you use your napkin to clean up what got on your chin and subsequently, your neck. 

William smiles at you and swallows before saying, "I never thought to eat finger food on the first date." 

Your brain goes blank for a moment. Is this a date? Are you on a date? With your Commander? That's almost as bad as the Captain. But do you want it to be a date? Do you want to go through with this? Yes. 

Your lips quirk into a smile and you taste a little bit of the char still on your lips. "My mother used to say it builds a connection utensils could never hope to achieve. It breaks down walls, and allows everyone to be honest. There's no hiding, no pretend here. You get messy, you work through it together. Just like you should." You smile fondly at the memory. You miss your mother. You haven't seen her in a few years. You talk often enough, but screen communication is never as good as the real thing. You can't hug your mother through a screen. Maybe the next time you're near earth you'll ask if you can make a stop for a few days. 

William smiles at that and picks up a piece of barbeque with his fingers and days before taking a bite, "Your mother is a very wise woman." 

You direct your smile at William now as you say, "She sure is." 

--

“Uh… Commander? I think you’ll want to see this…” You say, directing your comment to Geordi. 

He walks over and leans over your shoulder, huffing as he sees what’s on your monitor. “Well I’ll be…”

“But Commander?” You say, making it more of a question than a statement. “How is this possible? This can’t be real.” You lean in towards the simulation the computer is providing and say quietly, “There’s no way the radiation could be moving!” 

Geordi places a hand on your shoulder. “Well, figure out how. It doesn’t seem to be affecting anything yet but we can’t know for sure.” 

You nod and turn back to the computer, where you start running continuous scans on the now moving radiation. 

--

You lean back in your chair and rub your eyes, letting out a yawn before blinking at the screen in front of you. It’s nearing the end of your shift. You reach out for a glass of water, but your hand hits air. Right. No drinks in engineering. Your stretch your arms as those on the night shift take their place. You feel a hand on your shoulder and jump at the sudden touch. 

“Oh! Sorry Lieutenant, I didn’t mean to startle you,” ensign Torres says. 

You shake your head and press a hand to your temple, a pain starts to drill into your temple. You unclench your jaw but that doesn’t help. “No worries ensign. I was just thinking.” 

He places another hand on your shoulder. “Are you okay? Do you need to go to sick bay?”

You shake your head, but that only makes the pushing pain worse. “No, it’s just a headache. It’ll pass. Eventually.” You start to move from your chair, but you stumble into ensign Torres arms. He reaches out and catches you as you feel the pain deepen, like a screw being pushed into your skull without a drill or a screwdriver to help. You wrench your eyes closed. The engineering lights are too bright. You cry out in pain and can barely hear ensign Torres call out to the computer, “Esign Torres to Sickbay! Medical Emergency in Engineering!” 

You hear someone say from the otherside, “Acknowledged. I’ll be there in a moment. Crusher out.” 

The pain keeps building. Soon you can’t hear the beeping of the Engineering, something that’s come to feel comforting. There’s a buzzing in your ears and your face becomes hot as you continue screaming. You don’t know if there’s any sound coming out anymore, or if your throat has just been run raw, and nothing escapes but air. You feel your knees hit the floor, the pain from the sudden fall gives you a moment to think about something else, before the pain returns to your temples and you feel the air escaping your lungs again. You clutch at your hair and you wouldn’t be surprised if your hands were full of chunks of your own hair. You feel more hands on you, dragging you up to your feet. You’re still screaming when a hypospray is placed at your neck, and you finally fall into unconsciousness. 

The pain doesn’t stop.

--

You look around the dark. You’re not dreaming, you’re actually here. You reach down and feel your shirt, the yellow engineering uniform is coarse underneath your fingers. You look up and shout out, trying to call out to something, but it’s as if you’re in space, and there’s nothing for your voice to bounce back from. Looking around, you realize you’re not in the pitch black you thought you were in. There’s small stars dotting the blackness. 

They’re not stars, you realize, because they start to move. 

They swirl and congeal in front of you, and as you look up, this humanoid made of stars looks up as well. 

“Who are you?” you ask into the quiet room. With the coagulated humanoid in front of you, your voice has something to reflect off of. 

The creature tilts its head and repeats back in a poor imitation of your voice, “Who are you?”

“I’m [Y/N],” you say. “Who are you?”

You reach out a hand, and the stars follow, like a mirror. You reach out your left hand, it reaches out its’ right. “I’m [Y/N],” it mimics again. The voice is closer this time. “Who are you?”

You look down, your arm dropping to your side. You sigh. “This obviously isn’t working…” 

“This obviously isn’t working…” the mimic says. 

You look up and the amalgamation of stars follows. You squint your eyes. You reach out. 

You take a step forward. 

This isn’t a dream. You can move forward. The stars take a step back. 

It doesn’t take a step back exactly the way you took a step forward. It shows hesitation. Your eyes widen. It isn’t a mimic. It’s doing this because it doesn’t know anything else. 

You reach your hands out, gently, trying to be as non-threatening as possible. “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you,” you say softly. 

You take a step forward. 

“It’s okay. I won’t hurt you,” the stars reply back. 

They take a step forward. 

Your face breaks out into a grin and you take another step towards the creature. They take a step towards you. You reach out, each step closing the distance between the two of you. You feel the energy in the air, the charging of electrons the closer you get. The hair on your arms stands on end. You feel goosebumps rise on the back of your neck. There’s a prickling of static building in your fingers. You reach closer. Pins and needles burst from your heart, traveling through your veins out into your limbs, your fingers and toes going numb. 

You reach out. 

Your fingers brush the stars. 

You feel the pushing of the pain from before at the back of your skull, but you feel the stars trying to communicate to you to let go. You close your eyes and feel the stars envelop you. You open your mouth, breath out, and let the stars in. 

They rush into your mouth, into your throat, and for a moment you think you’re choking, but you don’t need to breathe. They settle, higher than your stomach, past your lungs and ribs, right in the middle where your heart sits. 

And you know everything the stars want you to know. 

--

You gasp awake, your eyes split open. The bright lights of sickbay make you want to close them again, but you force yourself not to. You look up and see Dr. Crusher and a few of her nurses standing around you. You can hear them talking, but you can’t understand what they’re saying. You’re still panting when Dr. Crusher walks over and places a soft hand on your back. You shake your head and it's as if your thoughts clear away and you can finally understand what language they're speaking. 

"[Y/N]?" Dr. Crusher asks gently. "Can you hear me?" 

You nod. "Yeah." It comes out as barely a whisper. You wince as your throat screams for water. "W-" you try and say. "Wa-" 

Dr. Crusher looks over at one of her nurses. "Can you get us some water? And something to help with the throat?" The nurse nods and moves away. Dr. Crusher smiles and says, "It's going to be alright. You're going to feel better soon." 

You nod and grab the glass that's handed to you, quickly gulping down what the nurse gives you. She also hands you a throat lozenge, which you quickly pop into your mouth. 

"Better?" Dr. Crusher asks. 

You nod. "Yes," you say, your voice only cracking slightly now. While your voice is quieter, at least you're talking now. "Much better. Thank you Dr. Crusher." 

The doctor smiles. "Please. Call me Beverly."

You smile. "Okay Beverly." You try and lean back against the wall, but you wince. Your body must have tensed up so much your muscles hurt too much to move properly. "Thanks," you say, grateful as she leans you against the wall. 

Suddenly, the doors to sickbay slide open and Commander Riker bursts in, panting. "What happened? Is everything alright?" He asks breathlessly, his eyes locking onto your form. 

Beverly smiles. "Yes. Everything is okay. I'm glad you could make it Commander."

You look at her confused. "While I'm not complaining, I have to ask why Commander Riker is here…" 

She smiles at you and stands up. "You were calling out for him. When you were asleep." 

You feel your face heat up as she leaves the room, leaving you and the Commander alone. 

He sits down where Beverly was sitting before and places a hand on your knee. "How are you feeling?" 

You shrug, but wince as it doesn't come out painlessly. "Sore," you say with a laugh. William laughs along with you. 

He reaches out and grabs your hand. "I was worried about you. When they said who it was I didn't know what happened!" William exclaims, his right hand flying out but his left still holding onto yours. His right hand rests again on your clasped hands and he says quietly, "What did happen?" 

You look him in the eye and say, determined, "I need to talk to the captain." 

You move to get up, but William pushes you back into the sickbay bed. "Whoah whoah whoah. Let's not be too hasty. Do you want to tell me, and I'll tell him?" 

You shake your head, wincing at the pain it causes in your neck, and the phantom pains of the headache fall into the forefront of your mind. "No. It's an emergency. I need to tell him." 

William sighs and squeezes your hands. "Alright. But he's coming here. You're not going to him." You nod carefully and William touches his combadge. "Commander Riker to Captain Picard. Please come to sickbay." William looks at you and says, serious, "It's an emergency." 

You smile, and squeeze William's hands. 

A few minutes later, the captain comes in. "Yes, what's the emergency?" 

William doesn't even say anything. He just gestures to you. You let out a breath. You've only talked to the captain once, when you first came onto the Enterprise. Usually you talk through Geordi. You look up at the captain and say confidently, carefully, "We have to stop scanning the planet." 

"What?" Picard asks confused. "Why?" 

"Because that radiation I detected?" you offer. "That's not radiation. At least, not really. The reason it was moving is because it's alive, captain." 

"What?" The captain looks dumbfounded. 

You sit up more in the sickbay bed. William helps you sit up. "The pain I felt? As it was entering my mind? That's the pain it feels while we're scanning it. The tachyon scans we've been doing have been killing it, captain." 

"But-but that's a class M planet. Others will want to come and claim it." 

You glare at the captain. "Then find a way to protect it." The captain hesitates, obviously thinking about what you're saying. Your eyes narrow even further and you turn to the computer that's against the wall next to your bed. "Computer? Play footage from engineering, 2200 hours." 

The screen lights up and you can clearly see yourself sitting at a computer console, falling asleep in your chair. Ensign Torres comes up behind you, and starts talking to you. It's too quiet to make out what you're saying. You stand up, fall into Ensign Torres' arms, and then all you can hear is your screaming. You look at the captain as he watches, pain and sympathy cross over his features. You just watch him. William squeezes your hands as he watches, tensing up at the sight of you in pain. You remember the pain, as clear as if you were experiencing it now. You tense up as the apology given from the new lifeform rises to the surface as well. 

"Computer," Captain Picard says suddenly, just as Beverly comes into frame. You're still screaming. "Stop video." The video stops and the screen goes dark once again. Captain Picard sighs and places a hand on his forehead. Your eyes haven't left the captain. He looks up at you and says quietly, "I'll see what I can do. Number one, I'll see you on the bride in-" He looks between the two of you, then down at your hands. "I'll see you tomorrow." 

And he walks away. 

You let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding when the doors to sickbay close behind the captain. You lean forward, exhausted after your display and pleading with the captain. William leans forward and catches you, your head resting on his shoulder. He runs his hands through your hair and says quietly, "That was amazing." You smile against his shoulder, but you don't have the energy to move. "Very convincing." You chuckle and reach your arms out to hug him, but you pull back, letting out a small groan of pain. William chuckles and pulls back, pressing his hands to your shoulders to keep you upright while he slides you down the bed. "Come on. You must be exhausted. I'll see if Dr. Crusher can get you something for the pain." He lays you down on the bed and you smile as your eyes close. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. 

He gets up to go get Beverly, but by the time they return, you're asleep in your bed. 

--

“[L/N]!” You look up from your personal project you were working on. 

It’s your lunch break and you’re tinkering with a new invention, but every time you use it on something, when you turn it off, the force crushes the object inside. It’s not doing what you want it to, and you have to find a way to stop it from collapsing when it’s turned off. 

Geordi walks over to you in the hallway outside of engineering. “Hey, how are you feeling?” He asks right as you take a bite of your sandwich. 

You hold up a hand, chewing for a few moments as you set down your tools, and you put your device down. You swallow and say, “Sorry.” Geordi holds up a hand as if to say, ‘no worries,’ and you continue. “I’m better. A lot better. Beverly is a true miracle worker.”

Geordi chuckles and says pointedly, “She’s a doctor, not a miracle worker, Lieutenant.” You chuckle along and start gathering up your equipment, popping the last of your lunch into your mouth. You start walking toward the nearest replicator, and Geordi follows along. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to see you in a while. I’ve been busy.” You nod. You understand how busy the senior officers have been these past few days. 

After leaving the planet, with the new radiation lifeform, the Enterprise was called to Starbase 83 to facilitate a discussion between the Klingons and a new race that was discovered on a mining moon. They drilled into the crust of the planetoid where they discovered a series of underground tunnels and caves, that were home to a race called the Hiyattas. They’re an insectoid race, with humanoid bodies, and they’re so new as an intelligent race they barely have 5,000 words to communicate with. In comparison, Federation Standard has over 170,000 words. William has been too busy to see you for the past few days, but occasionally, when he has the time, or the captain orders him to rest, he’ll ask you to join him in Ten Forward, just to see each other, and to catch up. He’s been updating you on the Hiyattans, and you’ve been telling him about engineering. 

You place the empty plate on the replicator and press a button that dematerializes the plate. “Anyways, I just wanted to know how you’ve been, being back in engineering after… well after what happened,” he says. 

You smile. “I’m fine. Still a little sore, but Beverly told me that’s normal after something like that.” The doors to engineering open and you place the invention and your tools on the table where Ensign Weaver who gets out of their chair and goes back to another station. “Can I ask you a question Commander?”

“Of course,” he says. 

You sit down in your chair, and turn to face him. “Why are you so concerned with me? You’re never like this with anyone else. Why me?” 

He smiles and says cryptically, “Don’t worry about it lieutenant.” He places a hand on your shoulder and squeezes gently. “Welcome back lieutenant.” 

He walks away and you say, confused, “Lieutenant Junior Grade, sir!” He doesn’t acknowledge you and just leaves engineering. You lean back in your chair, more confused than you have been in a very long time. “What just happened?” you mumble to yourself. 

--

You collapse into your chair in Ten Forward, leaning on the table that William is sitting in front of as well. 

“Everything alright?” he asks as your head hits the metal table with a soft thunk. You just groan in response. “Rough day?”

You laugh, though there’s no mirth behind it. “You could say that.” Your voice is muffled by your arms closing around your head on the table. 

William reaches out and touches your arm, grabbing it gently, as if to say, ‘hey, relax.’ You move your arms away from your face and sit up, though you’re still slightly slouched. “Hey, talk to me. What happened?” 

You sigh. “Everyone’s been so weird today. First!” You sit up more and William grabs your hand, not to calm you or anything, but just because he can. “It was Geordi, asking me how I am and talking to me more about personal things than he ever does. Then it was Lieutenant Worf, who refused to talk to me. I wanted to ask when the away team would be back, but every time I tried to contact him over coms, he would just tell me to talk to him later. I had to ask Ensign Martinez to talk to him for me.” You lean forward more. “And then! Chief O’Brien wouldn’t tell me how long the away team was gone for when I went to see him in transporter room three! I tried to run a diagnostic on the energy output from the transporters, so see if we could cut anything down for greater engine efficiency, but he just shooed me out of the room! Told me he’d do it himself and report back later! I asked Keiko what was going on with him but she wouldn’t even give me a straight answer. She would just mumble something about being busy or tired, and then take care of Molly.” You lean back in your chair with a huff, but your hands are still being held by William’s. “The only one who hasn’t been weird is Data, but he’s already weird. He was the only one to actually talk with me today. Though he kept saying ‘I’m sure you’ll be happy today…’” You shake your head. “It’s just been a weird day.” 

William smiles and leans forward, kissing your fingers lightly before encasing your hand in his own. You feel your cheeks heat up and you look away. You’ve been flirty with William, sure, and you talk a lot, but you didn’t think he actually felt anything for you. At least not the same way you feel about him. You were content to remain friends, but this… this feels really good, even if your stomach is doing flips right now. “I can’t wait to see how happy you are.”

You look back at him, your stomach dropping, as well as your shy smile. You groan and drop your head on the table again. “Ugh, not you too!”

He just starts laughing. 

--

You’re in your room the next morning when your combadge beeps at you from the dining table in your quarters. “Captain Picard to Lieutenant Junior Grade [L/N].” 

You pick up your combadge and affix it to your uniform before tapping it. “[L/N] here.”

“Will you come to my ready room? I wish to speak to you about something.” You nod, even though the captain can’t see you. 

“Aye sir.” Your badge beeps to denote the cutting of your connection to the captain, and you let out a deep breath. 

You try and steady your beating heart as you walk out of your room and to the turbolift. You only pass a few people, but you can’t help but feel as though they’re watching you. You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until you walk into the turbolift and the doors close behind you. “Bridge,” you say and the turbolift starts moving. You’ve only seen the bridge briefly once before when you first stationed on the enterprise. You were in the turbolift when one of the senior officers went up there. You saw it for as long as the doors were open. You didn’t get a good look at it. 

You feel your heartbeat rising as the lift rises higher and higher. You take deep breaths to steady yourself. You feel like you’re about to faint. The doors to the bridge finally open, and you barely catch a glance at William before your feet take you past the bridge crew and to the captain’s ready room. They’re definitely all watching you. 

You hear Counselor Troi say to someone, probably Commander Riker, before the doors to the Captain's ready room close, "He's definitely nervous." 

The doors close behind you, and suddenly, you're alone with the captain. "Ah. Lieutenant. Please, sit down." 

You do as you're told, but not before saying, "It's lieutenant junior grade, sir." 

He smiles and sits down across from you. "Yes, I've noticed you say that a lot. Is there a reason?" He folds his hands in front of himself. 

You shrug. "My father taught me not to take credit for things that aren't yours. Everyone needs a chance to prove themselves, and you shouldn't take that away from them," you explain. 

Captain Picard smiles and leans back slightly. "That is a very good insight Lieutenant… Junior Grade," he says after a moment. You smile at him. "Do you know why I've asked you here today?" 

"You sound like my principal in highschool," you mumble out. The captain raises an eyebrow at you. "No sir." 

He smiles. "I have heard nothing but good things about you from my senior officers. Geordi, Commander Riker, Deanna, even Data's said something positive about you." You don't say anything. You don't know what to say. You wait with baited breath as he continues. "I have continuously heard great things about you. And so I called you here to congratulate you Lieutenant."

"Congratulate me on what sir?" You don't correct him this time. 

He smiles at you. "On your promotion. Congratulations Lieutenant." 

You stare at him. "I-I don't know what to say Captain. Thank you!" You exclaim. 

He smiles. "It's not me. It's your own accomplishments. Now, we really should get back to work. We have a starship to run after all." 

You nod, still in shock and stand to leave. When you're about halfway to the door, the captain call to you. "Oh, and [Y/N]?" You turn to look at him. "I want to see you on the bridge now. If you could take more shifts on the bridge crew every once and awhile, that would be preferable." Your shock turns into excitement as you nod. "Dismissed."

--

You're sitting at the helm, your fingers don't know what to press first. Sure, you've run all types of simulations in star fleet, and have been reading up since your promotion, but the truth is, you don't know what to do. You've forgotten. Your mind blank. 

"Lieutenant? Are you alright? Do you need me to plot the course to Starbase 116?" Commander Data asks, his voice softer than normal, as if he's trying not to embarrass you. It's all very human. 

You let out a deep breath and shake your head. "No. No Data. I've got it," you say. You reach out, trying to remember which button to push first, when you feel something behind you. 

"Push the red one on the right first," Commander Data says low in your ear. 

You press the button, and with muscle memory start to lay in the course to Starbase 116. You look up and smile as you see Commander Data nod and go back to the Captain's chair. 

This is going to be a long night. 

--

You walk into Ten forward, swaying a little with each step you take. You almost fall into the bar but catch yourself as you walk to the table William is sitting at. You’re still in your uniform form earlier on in the day. You slump into your seat and sigh as you look up at the server that appears next to you.

“Coffee, extra sweet,” you say. William holds up a hand to say he’s good and the server nods and walks away. 

“I thought you hated coffee,” William says. 

“I do.” You lean back in your chair, your arms falling to your side, almost numb. “But I need to stay awake.” 

Riker looks at you, concerned. “Why do you need to stay awake? Do you have a night watch shift?” He asks, a little astounded. You wave him off, blowing a raspberry with your mouth as the server comes back with your coffee. You make a grab for it, but William slides it in front of himself, out of your reach. “No, you don’t get this until you answer me.” You sigh and reach for it, but he just holds your hand. "Why are you drinking coffee?" 

You sigh and place your forehead on the table. Your stomach's been swimming all day, and now it's just gotten worse. You haven't eaten anything since breakfast. You shake your head on the table. William reaches out and you feel him lace his fingers into your hair, touching the tips of your ears with his fingers. You sigh. "I've been taking extra night shifts on the bridge because those are the only times I can do them." 

William looks at you, concerned. "[Y/N], you're working yourself too hard," he says, quietly. 

You shake your head. "I want to do more for the captain, be on the bridge more like he requested, but I can't just give up engineering. It's such  a large part of me I can't just throw it out the window!" You exclaim, though that makes your head spin. You wobble slightly as you close your eyes and take a deep breath. "Whoah…" William sighs and when you open your eyes, you see the same server from before taking your coffee away. "Bu- wa-" you cut yourself off as you reach out towards the server, too tired to actually get up and go after your coffee. 

William stands up and walks around to your chair. "Come on. I'm taking you to bed." 

"But- but I have to be in the bridge in fourteen minutes! Commander Data is expecting me!" You exclaim as William takes your hands and lifts you up, placing a hand around your waist and throwing your own arm over his shoulders. William presses his combadge and says, "Commander Riker to Data."

"Commander Data here sir," comes the reply. 

William starts walking with you, more like dragging you, out of Ten Forward. "Lieutenant [L/N] is unable to come to his shift on the bridge. It's an emergency." 

You hear Data acknowledge it, but he adds on at the end, "Is the Lieutenant okay? He's not hurt is he?" 

William looks down at you. "He's not hurt." 

You can almost imagine Data nodding. "Data out." The comm cuts out. 

"I think Data thinks of you as a friend now." You look up at William as he says this, approaching your door now. You live on deck ten, so it always makes it convenient to go to the forward. 

You smile. "Good. I consider him a friend too." 

The doors to your room open as you approach and William takes you inside. He seats you over to your bed, and you practically throw yourself onto it. You sit up and go to remove your shoes, but William holds up a hand to stop you. You comply, and he removes your shoes for you. He sits down on your bed and you lean over, resting your head on his shoulder. He leans over and kisses your hair lightly. You almost don't feel it in your sleepy haze. 

Looking up, you see William's bright blue eyes. They're alight with affection and warmth, and you want that warmth. You want to feel that affection he apparently has for you. You lean up, pressing your lips to his, moving your hands from the bed to his neck. He starts kissing back, slowly but it's something. He moves his hands to your wrists, and pulls away as he moves your hands away from his skin, some of the only exposed skin on him when he's in uniform. 

He smiles in the dim light and says softly, "I really want this. Trust me, I do. But not when you're tired." 

You nod, and he leans in, pressing a kiss to your jaw before getting up. He lets go of your wrists and they fall back to the bed with a soft "thunk". He smiles and kisses your forehead. 

"Get some sleep. We'll talk tomorrow." You nod and scoot up the bed, falling asleep before you can even watch William walk out the doors.

--

You're sitting in Ten Forward, three days later, your new invention and your tools spread out over one of the tables in Ten Forward. You’re so close to a discovery, to being able to test it, but you have to find a way to not burn out the circuits after every shutdown. You’re hunched over your work and you don’t even notice as someone pulls out the chair and sits down in front of you. 

“Still hard at work, huh?” 

You jump, looking up into the blue eyes of William, who’s smiling at you. You place a hand over your heart, a decoupler pinned between your palm and your breast. “William! You scared me!” 

Even though you’re shocked, you’re laughing with him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were so entranced in your work,” he says. 

You sigh with an exasperated smile. “I’m so close.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever asked you what this is,” he says, pointing towards the invention on the table.

You look up at him, as if to ask, ‘Really?’ but he doesn’t back out of his statement, so you go ahead and explain. “Well, this…” You hold up the metal puck, blue, red, and white wires poke out of the bottom. “…is a personal shielding device. It uses a magnetic resonance created in part by me to cover the body and deflect anything from a phaser blast, to an old earth bullet, to a rock thrown at your head.” William is looking at you with wide eyes. “But-” you say, cutting him off from speaking, “I haven’t figured out how to make it work without the phaser blasts draining the energy from the shield and burning out the internal configuration. Last week I figured out the issue of it crushing the object inside of it when it’s shut off, but it still overloads the power couplings.” 

“This is so over my head, but this is a brilliant invention! How did you come up with it?” William asks. 

You shrug. “I just thought, ‘Why should ships only have shields?’.” 

You grin, and William laughs, leaning back in his chair. You just watch him laugh, his smile so wide you’re surprised his cheeks don’t split to make more room. His eyes are closed, but when you were explaining your technology, you could see adoration in his eyes. As you’re grinning at him while he laughs in his chair, you watch this man you’ve talked to every day for the last few months, and you realize something as his comforting eyes open again. 

You are in love with William T. Riker. 

--

“Alright lieutenant! Let’s fire this up!” Geordi says from the other end of Engineering two days later where he’s monitoring the shielding device. 

You nod and press the final button needed to remotely turn on the device, even though there’s a switch on the side for whoever needs it, for it to be activated. The light hum of the magnetic resonance is almost impossible to hear next to the massive warp engine. You watch as the light reflects for a moment off the shield as it wraps around the vase Data was willing to give you for the test. The magnetic resonance hasn’t vibrated the vase to pieces yet, so that’s good. 

You turn to look behind you, and say, “Commander Data? Fire when ready.” 

He nods and holds up the phaser, firing it on the shield. You watch as the shield pulses from the phaser blast, moving and warping, and you watch with baited breath as the vase wobbles slightly, but stabilizes after only a moment. 

You let out a breath as Geordi calls out, “Shield holding at 83%!” You have to force yourself to focus on your breathing, because you know you will hold your breath until the experiment is done. “Shields holding at 67%!” You watch as the shield starts flickering, but it’s still steady. “Shield falling to 42%!” The phaser still isn’t getting through, even though the resonance is flickering more and more, but you notice the shifting of the field is done around where the phaser is hitting, but it’s solid where the phaser is hitting. “Shield now at 27%!” The buzzing sound of the shield is now louder than the phaser as it pushes itself harder to protect the fragile vase. “Shield falling to 15%!” Geordi calls out to you and Data. “10%!” You watch as the shield starts falling away from the back, still holding strong against the phaser blast. “5%! 4! 3-2! 1%!” You watch as the shield flickers out for one last moment, before the phaser penetrates the magnetic resonance field, and the phaser strikes the vase, shattering it into a thousand tiny pieces. The phaser stops before it can do any more damage.

You watch as, even though the vase isn’t there anymore, the shield comes back online, taking the previous shape of the vase, before collapsing, and turning itself off. 

Data lowers his arm, the phaser resting at his side. Geordi walks over and stands at your side, placing his hands on his hips as he says to you, “Congratulations Lieutenant. You have created the first and only personal shielding device.”

You just stand in shock, a loose grin on your face. 

--

“Why don’t you join us for poker some time! I’m sure Commander Riker has asked you to join a few times?” Beverly asks as you sit in medbay, getting a cut healed from your rather rigorous exercise while fighting a few holodeck romulans. It’s not your program, lieutenant Worf let you use it for the time being. Your shield was being particularly annoying today and you needed to let off some steam. 

You shake your head. “No, no. I don’t play your kind of poker.”

“Seven card stud?” Beverly asks. 

You shrug. “I only know how to play one type of poker, so I think I’d be a little outmatched," you say with a light laugh. 

"Well, what kind of poker do you play?" Beverly asks. "Maybe we can learn!" 

You look up at her and say with a straight face, "Texas Hold 'em." 

She looks at you confused. "What?" 

"It's a poker game that was popular in the 21st century, but after the nuclear wars, only those in Texas really held onto it. Us Texans love anything with the word 'Texas' in it," you say sardonically. 

Beverly laughs as she finishes healing your cut. "Alright. You should be good to go." You smile at her and jump down from the bed, rolling your neck and sighing when you hear the pops it makes. You move to leave, but she stops you with a shout. “Oh lieutenant!” You turn to face her. “Maybe you should steer clear of the holodeck for a little while. Come play poker with us. You can teach us how to play your game, and I’m sure the commander will love to have you there.”

She smiles at you knowingly, and you just smile and nod before leaving sickbay. 

--

“Picard to engineering! Can you get us out of here!” Captain Picard yells over the comms. Because Geordi’s on the bridge, he put you in charge of engineering. 

You press your combadge and shout over the general hustle and bustle of engineering,  “We’re trying our best captain! The tractor beam from the planet’s interfering with our escape plan! I don’t think we’ll be able to leave unless we can shut down that tractor beam!” 

The combadge goes quiet for a few moments and you call out to Barclay to join you at the main engineering consoles situated in the middle of the floor. Your combadge beeps again when Barclay moves to your opposite, continuing his work. “Picard to Mr. [L/N]. I need you on the bridge.”

“Aye,” you say, nodding to Barclay who nods back, and you leave engineering for the bridge. Before you exit, you stop by your station and grab your personal shield, holding onto it as you make your way to the bridge. The ride in the turbolift is silent. No one interrupts. You’re alone. 

Until the door to the bridge opens up and all you can hear is shouting. “[Y/N]! Over here!” Geordi calls out to you, waving you over. You move over to Geordi before the doors to the turbolift can close again. “We’re having a hard time shutting down their tractor beam.”

You lean in next to Data to look at the computer monitor. “Have you tried a reverse tachyon beam?”

Data nods. “Yes. They have a force field up. We can not get through.” 

You nod and start mumbling to yourself, “And we can’t beam anyone in there-”

“Wait, no I think we can,” Geordi says, typing on the display. “Here.” He points to the monitor, where you see the subspace fluctuation in the shield, a hole not big enough for a phaser blast, but just big enough for a transport. 

“Yes, yes. I see,” Data says, before turning to the chaotic bridge. “Captain,” he says, not raising his voice at all. Picard turns, still having been able to hear Data over all the comotion. “I believe we can transport a small away team down into the surface. This is the only way to disable the tractor beam. We have…" Data pauses for a moment and you fill in the rest for him. 

"We have twenty four minutes before the warp core shuts down and we're pulled to the surface," you supply. 

Picard nods. "Commander, assemble an away team." 

Riker nods. "Data, Worf, you're with me." 

They go to leave but you stop them. "Sir?" You interrupt the Commander before he leaves. "Sir. I think I should be the one to beam you all down. I've done the calculations and I know I can get you there safely." 

Riker looks to captain Picard, who nods. Riker motions for you to follow. "[L/N]. You're with me," Commander Riker says. 

You follow them into the turbolift, and down to transporter room one. You walk in and quickly dismiss the ensign on duty. He walks out of the room as you input the exact transporter coordinates. 

You look up and everyone's already on the transporter pad. "Commander, one more thing before you go…" 

You walk up to him, and reach your hand out, grasping your life's greatest work as you place it in the commander's hand. He looks up at you in sock as you say to him, quietly, "You never know what you'll find down there…" 

He looks up at you in shock, and you walk back to the transporter, your fingers over the engagement. 

"Lieutenant? Energize," Riker says. 

You slide your fingers up the panel, and as you do, the three men start to dematerialize. Soon enough, they're gone, and you wait with baited breath, hoping you do it right. 

You feel your heart stop as your combadge beeps and Geordi's voice filters through. "Lieutenant? You did it! Come and join us back on the bridge," 

"Aye sir," you reply. 

--

You wait and watch from the bridge, barely daring to breathe. The bridge has gone silent. It's eerie. The bridge is usually full of life, buttons being pushed, talking from the commanding officer to their officers, and vice versa. Now, you're sitting at OPs, waiting for something, anything to happen. 

You don't have to wait long, because soon enough you're flung against the OPs terminal, and you have to cling to it so you don't Tumblr over it. 

"What was that?" Picard asks the room. 

You start typing on your console but Geordi's faster. "The tractor beam is gone captain. As well as the shield. It seems they were shut down." 

You get up from OPs and look back at the captain, going to say something, but you're interrupted. "Away team to Enterprise. Please beam us directly to sickbay. Commander Riker is hurt." It's Data's voice. 

Your heart stops beating, and you look to the captain. You don’t even need to say anything. He just nods, but as you get up and walk past him, he places a hand on your arm gently. “See me in my ready room after your shift ends.” 

You nod and he lets go, letting you rush down to sickbay. The doors don’t slide open fast enough and you almost slam face first into them. But they do eventually slide apart and you enter, your breathing so fast you’re afraid you may pass out. You spot him, William, lying in one of the sickbay beds against the wall. You push your way through the bustling room and over to William, who grins as he makes eye contact with you. You let out a deep breath and practically throw yourself into the chair next to his bed. He reaches out and you grab his hand. 

You feel something fist sized, warm, machinery. “You saved me. You know that?” 

You let the shield fall to the ground and lean over, kissing William T. Riker. 

--

You let out a nervous breath, clenching and unclenching your hands in the turbolift as you make your way down to William’s room. You’ve never actually been in his room. You’ve imagined it, what he would have in it. Pictures of family, flowers from Deanna, lots of blues and reds. The turbolift doors open, and you have half a mind to turn around and go right back the way you came, but you shake your head, stepping out of the turbolift onto the senior officer’s crew quarters. You walk down the brightly lit hallway and to the door you remember Beverly telling you was William’s. 

You let out a breath, and push the doorbell. 

It only takes a few seconds before the doors slide open, and a shocked William is staring back at you. “[Y/N]! What a nice surprise! What are you doing here?”

“Beverly invited me. She wants to learn how to play my poker,” you explain. “I even brought my own cards.” You hold up the pack you’ve used for years. Your lucky deck. 

“Oh well, come on in!” William steps aside and you carefully make your way inside, smiling as you see Geordi, Beverly, Worf, and Data all sitting around a circular table, chips layed out in front of each of them. William pulls up a chair for you next to Beverly and himself, as well as some chips for you to use. You sit and place your cards on the table, Data scooping up the old cards. 

“What’s the game, [Y/N]?” Beverly asks.

You start to shuffle the deck, almost as well as Data but no one can ever be as good as Data at anything. You stop, placing the cards in front of William to cut as you say, “The game is Texas Hold’em. May the best, win.”

[writingsfromstarfleet]

You Are Not Alone - Beverly Crusher X Reader

A/N: Hello! This a request for @iciclesandsnow so I do hope you enjoy it and I hope it’s what you wanted! Thank you for the request! x

TW: mentions of mental health, death and lots of crying. If any one of you reading needs someone or wants to talk, don’t hesitate to message me, I’m always here for anyone. Especially during a time like this. Be okay guys, I love you all. X

Days went on. Weeks went by. Years could have gone by for all you'd noticed. Nobody aboard the Enterprise knew what was going on in your life and your head, and if you had to be quite honest with yourself, neither did you. You couldn't remember the last time a genuine laugh had left your throat. These days it was pity laughs, laughs to keep up appearances, and those were starting to become more effort than they all were worth.

The beginning of your Starfleet career was amazing. You'd graduated the academy with top marks and found yourself assigned to your first mission within weeks of graduation. Your father was a captain, away on a 3-year mission. He was the closest family member you had, always encouraging you to follow in his footsteps, never once pushing you where you didn't want to go. To say you missed him was an understatement, the thought you were going to see him again soon kept you going.

Jean-Luc Picard was your captain on the Enterprise, and you couldn't have asked for anyone better to serve under. He was stern and serious, though deep down his close crew knew that he was a kindhearted man. The captain had become somewhat of a father figure to you, the advice he gave and the lessons you learned from him would stick with you for the rest of your life. A man who valued his crew and the relationships he had formed with them, he could tell when things weren't quite right. From what Jean-Luc gathered, he was not alone in his thinking.

Your captain wasn't the only relationship you'd formed during your time on board. People like Deanna Troi, Beverly Crusher and Will Riker became very close friends of yours, not mention the unexpected friendship that flourished with Worf and Data, the most unlikely of friends you'd thought you would make. You had the knack of getting along with anyone, and were more than friendly to all who knew you, which is why nobody wanted to see you as sad as you seemed.

"So what do you think it is?" Will asked to the group, consisting of Deanna, Worf and himself, all sat around a table in Ten Forward, the topic at hand being you. They exchanged glances before Deanna spoke up.

"I'm not sure, every time I see Y/N, there's a feeling of sadness, a real sadness, but I'm not quite sure what it is. I'd like to help, though I feel Y/N doesn't want that.." she trailed off in thought. Will sighed. "I don't do well in those situations either, I can't talk to people like that. I'm far from an emotions kind of man." Your friends wanted to help, but how, they knew not.

Going about your business in more than silence, you completed the tasks you needed to, finishing as quickly as possible so you could return to your quarters, having little to no energy or patience for your job today. Your comm badge rang, and the captain's voice rang through.

"Lieutenant Y/N, report to my ready room."

Sighing and standing, you didn't reply, but set off for the bridge nonetheless. Even in your current mindset, you were not one to ignore your higher officers orders. Stepping into the turbolift, you were met with Dr Crusher, who smiled sweetly at you. She was a very good friend, you could say you trusted her with anything. You meekly smiled back, barely even moving your lips.

"Y/N, everything alright?" Her question hit the air, silence offered as a reply.

"If you don't want to talk, that's perfectly fine. I'm worried, though. If you do need anyone for anything, please don't hesitate to come to me. I'm here to listen, and my arms are open, as always." She stepped out on her level, leaving you with a squeeze to the shoulder. You half smiled, a silent acknowledgement of her offer, she caught it and left you be. Your floor came and you made your way through the bridge, feeling some eyes on you as you walked. If you were facing them, you would have seen their worry. Giving each other glances, they returned to their work.

"Y/N, please have a seat" Picard said, a softness in his voice that wasn't usually present. Sitting, you stared at him, confused as to your summons. "We had word from Starfleet today concerning your father's ship." He took a deep breath, watching your face ever so slightly shift from confusion to concern. Continuing, he himself became nervous. "Your father's ship was attacked by Romulans two days ago, and your father died in the battle. From what Starfleet has said, he fought valiantly, he managed to save many lives, sadly not his own. I'm sorry, Y/N."

You stood, eyes planted at the floor.

"May I be excused, sir?" your voice came, barely a whisper. Looking up at him, he nodded, offering a sympathetic smile to you. Just what you wanted, sympathy. There was nothing worse, in your eyes. Storming off with a hell of a pace, you left the ready room, tears flowing fast down your face. Crew looked on, puzzled.

Reaching your quarters, in time you thought wasn't quick enough, you locked the door, and leaned your forehead against it. Slamming a hand down on the door, you pushed yourself off and smashed the vase off the table next to the door. It shattered against the wall with a deafening crash. Whatever switched in your head forced you to continue throwing things with no prejudice, whatever was closest hit the wall. The commotion from inside your quarters drew attention from two ensigns passing in the hall, who swiftly decided to alert the first senior officer they could find.

Minutes later, your quarters were a mess, shoes flung about, smashed statues and cups, possessions strewn all over the floor. The door chimed and you ignored it with full acknowledgement, and it persistently rang out, angering you more that someone had dared bother you at a time like this.

On the other side of the door stood Captain Picard, Worf and an extremely panicked Dr Crusher attempting to override your door lock. Picard placed his hand on Beverly's shaking ones as she tried her best to not her panic take over. She cared, it wasn't hard to see. She cared to the point that her nerves came to the surface. Wordlessly, he offered his support to her. The banging slowed, but still hadn't stopped, and the trio had finally gained access to your quarters.

Before you could turn to see who had entered, there were two dainty arms around your torso and a mane of ginger hair in your face. Beverly had engulfed you in a hug, and you lost it. Your tears flowed freely as she pulled back, bringing you to the edge of your bed to sit down. The captain and Worf surveyed the outcome of your rampage and the damage was awful. They turned their attention to where it should be for the moment. You.

"Y/N," the doctor's soft voice brought you from your thoughts, you looked up, your teary eyes meeting her very concerned blue ones. "What happened?" You couldn't answer and instead looked down at your lap, crying silently now. The two men shared a look before Picard bent down to your level.

"Whatever it is, you know we can all help. Any one of us is here for you at any time, you need only ask." He placed a hand on your knee and patted it gently, you smiled somewhat, though you weren't sure how genuine it was. You knew his words were true and you were grateful for the crew, your mind at the minute couldn't quite process that thought. "Mr Worf, let's leave them to it, there's no danger any more I don't think." You chuckled slightly, and because you were staring at your lap, you didn't notice the look shared between the three of them as the two men exited, leaving you and Beverly alone.

"Now, what happened?" You sniffed, as she moved to sit beside you rather than kneel in front of you. You began to explain.

"The past couple of weeks have been the hardest of my life, and I can't tell you why. I don't know why. It started with me feeling a little down, which I know from time to time is normal, so I didn't go to Deanna. It got worse as the weeks went on, I started being late, I couldn't finish reports and I couldn't even bring myself to socialise with the crew, with my friends." She took your hands as you stopped, a silent encouragement for you to continue. Beverly knew you needed to get this all out, and she was determined to make it happen.

"The captain told me earlier on that my father's ship was attacked by Romulans whilst on a science mission. He had managed to get some people out in shuttles but didn't make it himself. He was my rock, Beverly, he.." You couldn't even finish, and she took you in her arms, letting you cry it all out. After what seemed like an eternity for you, but had in reality been around 5 minutes, she let up as you calmed.

Beverly took your face in her hands and made you look at her. You could almost hear her heart break at the sight of you so red eyed and teary.

"I am so sorry, Y/N. I am so sorry this happened to you. Things like this are not easy to deal with, it doesn't need to be said. But always remember, I'm here for you. We all are. This crew is a family, and we stick together through the good times and the bad times. No matter how bad things get, help is always there." She wiped your remaining tears and smiled. Her smile was beautiful and contagious, you couldn't help but smile back. A genuine, tooth bearing smile for the first time in ages, because you knew. You knew that everything you'd been told was true. They were your family, and they had your back.

"How about we go and get something to eat, yeah?" She extended her hand and you took it, standing and thanking her silently. She grinned again, and began walking off, thankful she had her Y/N back again.

"One final thing. Remember, no matter how bad the fall, the crew of the Enterprise are always there to catch you."

[smallblueandloud]

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7 for the writing ask- I AM SO SORRY I COULDNT STOP!!! xoxo

aaaah these questions look SO GOOD thank you so much <3 <3 for this ask meme, which will be open all weekend!

1. tell us about your current project(s)  – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

i pulled open all of my WIP google docs for this and my laptop started whirring ominously, lmao. this is going to be a Little Long but i love talking about my wips so who cares!! (under the cut because EXCERPTS)

guys and dolls but gay - very, very casual rewrite of guys and dolls if sky masterson was a woman. i’m loving how chill i’m being about this one because it’s so much fun to not have to worry how i’m going to write lyrics in a not-weird way and just focus on the story. this one’s first because it’s theoretically closest to being finished.

sky, laughing: “oh? people. all the people you turn down every day. well, i imagine there’s someone out there that’ll catch your eye.”

sarah, stiffening: “...yes, there will be.”

sky: “and what might this person be like?”

sarah: “he will not be a gambler, for one.”

sky does not miss the pointed pronoun. “i’m not interested in what he won’t be, i’m interested in what he will be.” she sits down on the desk, in a pointedly masculine pose, and sets her fedora next to her - at her most Hot Queer, basically. “how will you know when he gets to you?”

my fic for the aos rarepair fic exchange - i can’t give any plot or ship details, for obvious reasons, but it’s 1.3k and i’m having fun with it!

steven roadtrip of destiny - canon divergent fic set at the end of steven universe future where steven goes on a roadtrip instead of... canon. it deals with some heavy emotions and it’s also a character study so it’s tentatively shelved until i get around to rewatching suf. but i am projecting on steven like crazy and it’s really, really cathartic. it’s taught me a lot about myself too lmao.

He’s never been anonymous before. He kind of likes it. It means he can fold his arms on the table and put his head down without Pearl worrying about his posture, or someone asking him if something’s okay.

In the last few months, he’s grown to hate people asking him how he’s doing, or if he’s okay. He always ends up lying, because he doesn’t want to worry them, and he ends up feeling worse.

Probably because it’s more of him supporting other people without supporting himself.

He should have told someone how he was feeling. He should have reached out. Sadie could’ve helped him. Lars would’ve listened. Connie would have hugged him and then found him the appropriate mental health professional.

(God, Steven wants a hug. Also the appropriate mental health professional? Whoever that would be.)

untitled aos fic - i don’t want to give a lot of details because :eye emoji: and also i don’t know much about what the plot of this is going to be anyway, lmao. but here’s an excerpt:

daisy “that actor who doesn’t shut up about data harvesting” johnson (@daisyquake) tweeted: two weeks :eyes emoji:

Elena Rodriguez | Seven Cents S2 Streaming On Netflix Now! (@yoyorodriguez) retweeted and added: the problem with being friends with daisy is that you SHOULD have some insight into what her tweets mean but you still have no idea

Fitz (@justfitz) retweeted and added: Try being married to her

untitled star wars twins fic - because i am a total and massive nerd. i’m just kind of stuffing everything i have feels about from the post-anh era into this and planning on figuring it out later? i’m really loving talking about the culture of alderaan (and the culture of the survivors) and also i just love writing luke and leia’s relationship... so much......

(no excerpt for that one because i’ve basically posted all of it in various posts lmao)

aos ds9 au - i’ve posted a LOT about this already and i want to keep the plot a surprise but fsk is in this and married and half the cast is aliens, what else do you need in life.

“Good morning,” says Jemma, coming into the room with her hair wet and her uniform crooked. “Hello, darling.”

“Hi,” says Daisy, turning her face up for a kiss. Jemma obliges absently as she walks past, looking around the room.

“Has anyone seen my hair clip?”

“No,” say Fitz and Daisy in unison.

and of course, last but never least in my heart, chapter 3 of the magnum opus - writing this is on hold until my brain decides to stop hitting me over the head at every possible moment, but there’s like... 2k written so far? it’s. it’s going.

“Yeah, yeah,” says Coulson, and makes quick work of the right gauntlet. It’s only halfway through the left one that his fingers slow and he says, quietly, “Simmons designed these, didn’t she?”

She lets out a quick breath. “Yeah.”

He stays quiet for a few more seconds, finishing up the last of the straps, making sure they’re tight enough. Finally, he says, “She should be helping you with these.”

Daisy pulls her arms back and swallows down some words, or maybe a couple of feelings, or maybe a sob. “Yeah, well.”

2. tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

the last sentence of the magnum opus!!!!!!!!!!

no, lmao, i’m gonna try to be serious. i really, really want to write some librarians fic in the near future? also MORE OF THE SENSE8 AU. i’m DYING to write some stuff about that. especially sam’s cluster, for some reason? Let’s Make Him Suffer (Comedically)! one day i’m gonna finish that list of what cluster/situation each song is about and then it’ll be over for all of us!

3. what is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

i spent about eight months imagining a scene where riza hawkeye was really injured and mustang was holding her in his arms (basically the promised day scene but with more privacy) so does that count?

hmm, just for some other possibilities: glinda telling dorothy about elphaba, laura somehow seeing or speaking to natasha during catws, a good omens au of the good place (specifically the ”i don’t even like you!” / “you doooooooo” scene), kencyrath au of star wars (ESPECIALLY THIS ONE, except setting up the first scene alone would take 7k, but i want to talk about leia and luke and their MESSED UP TRUST ISSUES in this au).

oh, also, something about star trek tng where jean-luc and beverly and jack were in love and then jack died and picard left. more specifically a scene set during the pilot episode where jean-luc very cordially offers beverly the option to transfer off the enterprise, that he wouldn’t dream of holding it against her, and beverly very cordially telling jean-luc to go fuck himself. i want to write 30k of that broken triad. i want it so bad. i dream of that fic. maybe one day when i find myself with a completely empty month or two, i’ll binge all of tng and Write Some Stuff.

4. share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

since you and i have tww in common, i’m gonna do a tww fic! otherwise i’d have to reread literally every fic i’ve ever written, lmao.

(this is long but i put this post under the cut so i have RIGHTS. also consider this a sneak peek for the j/d fic in the sense8 au?)

“It’s okay,” says Helen. She sits for a moment in silence, seeming thoughtful. “The Congressman and I are in the same cluster,” she says eventually. “I’d- I supposed that’s easier on the Secret Service?”

“Yes,” says Donna. “The-”

She stops herself from saying anything further. President Bartlet and the First Lady aren’t exactly quiet about who’s in their cluster, especially with senior staff, but that doesn’t mean she should go talking about it in an unsecured room in LA, of all places.

To cover for her blunder, she gives up something else: “The same with Josh. They got really lucky with him, actually. It’s just him and me, so they won’t have to worry about anyone threatening the Chief of Staff through the barista in the local Starbucks.”

Helen looks up from the Ohio numbers she’d drifted back to, a slow smile creeping up on her face. “Josh is in your cluster?”

“Uh-” says Donna, feeling like national security wasn’t worth whatever she’s just blundered into. Oops. “Josh- Josh is my cluster, ma’am.”

She catches her mistake the second it’s out of her mouth, but Helen doesn’t call her on it, more focused on other revelations. “No wonder you two look at each other the way you do!” she says, sounding delighted. Donna shuts her eyes, praying for this to go away. It’s not that she’s ashamed of Josh - it’s just so, so complicated, and other people never think about how difficult it was. Still is.

i’m just... i really liked the idea of donna fumbling and having to reveal this to cover up for what else she was going to say? i don’t know why i’m so charmed by this. i think it’s because it would be impossible in the show - you can’t show what someone was going to say on television, not without a lot of setup and very careful scripting. it’s just a really fun situation to write about and i’m really proud of this conversation in general.

also helen santos was a dream to write and i love her a lot. i kind of want to write one of the fics in the series about her and her cluster solely because like... look at her. she’s a delight in literally every scene. i love her.

5. what character that you’re writing do you most identify with?

daisy johnson!!! i love writing daisy johnson!!!! she is the most adhd character i’ve ever written and i literally just have to transcribe my own inner monologue and it works perfectly!!!!!

Swing shift: 1600 hours to 2400 hours. Daisy always ends up getting back to her quarters at like 0030 hours, when Jemma is asleep and Fitz is reading some kind of technical journal. Then she has to eat replicated pizza, alone, and freshly replicated pizza is actually pretty hot but it feels cold at that time of night, like, spiritually.

6. what character do you have the most fun writing?

...whoops i literally just answered that lmao. uh. i also really love writing sky masterson in the guys and dolls fic? she’s just weaponized hot queerness in a suit and i love her for it. she is intentionally trying to seduce this repressed lesbian and it’s really funny and also really hot of her and it’s so much fun to write.

also, i wrote chidi for the tgp fic and it was possibly the most fun i’ve ever had with a pov, although that was also because i was purposefully trying to mimic the tone of the show. i still think that line about michael and a grenade is, like, the funniest i have ever been in my life. but chidi’s panic was surprisingly easy to write? all of tgp’s characters have such STRONG voices, it makes writing fic ridiculously easy as long as you don’t get stuck on a plot for six months.

7. what do you think are the characteristics of your personal writing style? would others agree?

oof, this one is ALWAYS tricky. uh? uhh?? i’m going to ruin everything by saying this but i basically alternate between the same two sentence structures and i am really frustrated about it. i also alternate between the same two styles of endings and i always use the same beginning (set scene, main character pov, thoughts-as-exposition, back to scene).

BUT ON A MORE POSITIVE NOTE i like to talk about emotions and relationships and character development!! i have my “queer subtext goggles” superglued to my face, lmao. i like to think about how characters must have felt about things in canon and how it must’ve influenced them. i like making people deal with the consequences of their actions, especially how it’s influenced they themself. i also just really, really like writing people who love each other, whether it’s romantic or platonic or anything in between. i just want them to be happy! i just want them to stick together! doesn’t matter what fandom, i stand by it.

[ask-de-writer]

LEZON (part 1 of 3), a Science Fiction tale.

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to Science Fiction

Lezon

by

Glen Ten-Eyck (De Writer)

17837 words

copyright 2020 by Glen Ten-Eyck

written, 2003

All   rights reserved. This document may not be copied or distributed on or   to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the   express  written consent of the author.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users  of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may  reblog the story.  They may use the characters or original characters in  my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical  compositions, provided that such things are done without charge.  I will  allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images.  

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fictions is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

“Ma’am, Registry shows that this system has been surveyed by distant scan only. The primary is too big and too far into the blue to have habitable worlds. Long range scan charts show four stony-giant worlds in orbits from 1.5 to 20.4 C minutes from the star. There are five gas-giants in orbits from 45 to about 300 C minutes in average radius.” Lezon reported to M’rel, one of her three mistresses.

“What to you think, Lezon? Should we dive in near the star to refuel the power capsule or go on to the Clan Colony at Thress T’cull?”

“We M’cratti are opportunists, Ma’am. Part of the Warrior’s Way is to eat when you can, rest when you can and fight when you must. It never hurts to have a fully fueled capsule. That star’s corona is rich in positive particles for fuel and negative ones for direct and stored power. While we are at it, we could divert to the ecliptic and run a tighter survey for the Treaty Commission Maps. That’s always worth some cash credit.”

“What of the delay to decelerate below C, drop the Restriction field, conduct the survey and then get back to course and speed?” inquired T’cass, one of Lezon’s other mistresses.

“Four days at most, unless we find something of interest,” Lezon replied.

K’ress put her vote simply. “I trust Lezon’s instincts. Let’s do it.” Her fingers played across the keys and touch screens of the navigation console. A course that swept near to three of the gas-giants and two of the stony-giant worlds on the way in, passed through the corona of the star and found another of the stony-giant worlds on the way out, appeared on the navigation screen. “This should answer the need quite well.”

Lezon and the others looked approvingly at the course. Heads nodded, whiskers twitching agreement. Lezon laid in the course and began setting up the piloting computer to handle it.

Her three mistresses looked on in curiosity. Two of the three, T’cass and K’ress, had flown in combat during the last war of the Clans and the M'cratt Empire. M’rel had been a medical technician. After all of her years of service, they still admired the economy and efficiency of their slave. Lezon had been a Talon pilot on the M’cratt side who was taken prisoner and claimed as war booty by T’cass.

T’cass, M’rel and K’ress had met during the war and fallen in love. T’cass had brought little but her slave to the Triad having spent her earnings to save Lezon’s life and heal her severe injuries. The other two had brought rich medical rewards, bounties and carefully saved combat pay. Together, they had bought a small star ship, formed a Clan and now had three kits of their own.

Lezon located the kits in the recreation room and herded the youngsters up to the bridge. “School time,” she announced cheerfully. “T’lass, you’re the youngest, so you get the easy job. Navigation. Sit over there and keep track of our course. We may have to divert for exploration or hazards.

“K’sere, you get the long range scanners. Your job is to watch out for hazards and give orbital scan information to T’cill.

“T’cill, your job is data interpretation. You take the scans and get us planatographical information. We want composition, orbital elements in detail, and exploitation potentials.”

“I want to fly the ship,” stated T’cill rebelliously.

“Sorry,” said Lezon firmly, “that’s my job. I’ve been the D’ancer’s driver ever since your mothers bought her.” She sat at her console and began the process of cutting down on their 28 C speed and bringing them to the calculated course. T’lass’s information was flowing steadily across her screens, letting Lezon know how close she was to the optimum course. What the other two were doing was displayed on a split quarter of her main screen.

To keep the three kits occupied for the coming hours, Lezon began drilling them in basics.

“Who can tell me what the Contraction Restriction field does?” she asked.

It was K’sere who chimed in first, “It prevents the relativity contraction from happening by converting the mass increase required by relativity into tachyons.”

“One snack point for K’sere,” said Lezon. Ears pricked up, tails twitched and whiskers went dead still as kits suddenly concentrated.

“What’s the theoretical maximum for the Restriction field?”

“0.7,” said T’cill dismissively.

“Anybody else?” asked Lezon softly.

It was T’lass who answered thoughtfully, “1.0.  0.7 is an engineering limit. If a generator overloads it will blow a ship into a cloud of tachyons headed for the next galaxy.”

“That’s what I meant,” said T’cill grumpily.

“Unfortunately, not what you said,” Lezon replied. “Snack point for T’lass.”

“What limits the speed of a ship?”

“Four things,” T’cill responded promptly. “Without a Restriction field, relativity forces the ship to contract to an infinitely massive wave front at C. This makes it impossible to go to or beyond the speed of light.” She curled one finger down.

“With a Restriction field, speed is a relationship between field intensity and thrust.” A second finger counted down.

“Thrust is produced by the inertial drive as a function of tachyon energy states inside a conducting surface.” A third finger folded into her growing fist.

“The last thing that governs ship speed is the fusion ramjet. In terms of thrust, it’s bitsy. Less than one standard gravity. Using magneto-hydrodynamics, it supplies the power to run the inertial drive at high C numbers by fusing interstellar hydrogen into helium and lithium.” Her fourth point made and finger folded, she was left with her small finger and thumb triumphantly held spread.

“Snack point,” Lezon said cheerfully.

“Planetary data coming in,” said K’sere. Everybody applied themselves to their screens. This was the real lesson, and the first time that the kits had first crack at the gathering and analysis of completely new data. They meant to get it right, and not just for snacks. They wanted to please Lezon, who had raised and educated them every bit as much as their three biological parents.

Planet size, accurate orbital elements, composition and tachyon output were duly recorded. The planet itself was nothing special, a smallish gas-giant; ammonia, methane and about 2.3 standard g gravitational pull. Two of its four moons had exploitable resources. The inner moon was a stony one with several metal ores in reasonable abundance. The second moon had usable hydrocarbons and sulfur volcanoes.

The next world was likewise ordinary. It was a near duplicate of the first, without the resource laden moons. The third, closest in of the gas-giants, was a different story altogether.

It was a large world with a monster gravity well, nearly 3.9 g’s. It was big enough to hold nearly all of its hydrogen in addition to ammonia, methane and a variety of complex organic compounds. Its fourteen moons held huge amounts of free water as ices and even some liquid. The moons were rich in silicates and metal ores. This one planet and its moons was well worth a mining claim due to the available water, easily separated for oxygen to breathe and hydrogen for fusion fuel.

One of the expected stony-giant worlds about 20 C minutes out from the primary had a planet-sized moon.

///////////////////////////

Well out-system, Commander M’ase watched the main screens on the command deck of the M’cratti Talon carrier ship Hand of Claws. The long range scans were no more informative than the Treaty Commission maps which were also displayed. Blue Giant stars never had habitable planets but they often had ones that were rich in resources.

“Why has the Triad-Empress sent us out here to this place?” grumbled detection, knowing full well that if it was necessary or desirable for her to know the answer, she would have been told.

It surprised the entire bridge crew when the Commander, who had earned the full compliment of three Names, answered quite calmly, “It is within my discretion to reveal our mission and it may assist your evaluation to know what it is. We are searching for worlds worth exploitation, in spite of the hostile environment of giant star systems. We must confine our search to those stars nearest to concentrations of Clan colonies here at the border of their space.

“These worlds must be claimable through the Treaty Commission without contest. They will become legitimate centers of mining and manufacturing for the Empire. They will also become shipyards and launch bases for the next war. Keep these factors in mind as we conduct our search.”

“War with Clan?” said the pilot disbelievingly. She was young and had earned no Name yet. “They are no worthy adversary. They are not Warriors nor do they fight willingly.”

“True, their goals and desires are utterly alien to us, in spite of their being the same species,” said M’ase thoughtfully, “but don’t fall into the trap of thinking that they can’t fight. They won the last War. Never forget that.

“I know that your histories have glossed it over but the Treaty Commission Fleet is all that saved M’cratt from being turned into an asteroid field. The T.C. will not stop wars.  They just protect habitable planets and make certain that the wars are fought within the terms of the treaties.”

“Huh,” said pilot dismissivly, “the Clans only won because Lezon was killed at M’onafar. We were beating them up until then.”

“Then your study of the history of Warriors was wasted time,” said M’ase in sharp rebuke. “Our loss proved that it was Lezon Treh K’lass who was beating them. Not us. How many engagements did we win after M’onafar?”

“One,” said the pilot sullenly.

“Correct,” M’ase said more calmly. “And Lezon had planned that battle before she was lost.”

///////////////////////

The kits nearly went wild as they unbelievingly read their data. “0.98 g’s! Oxygen! Nitrogen! Carbon dioxide! Habitable temperatures! Living biosphere!” They checked and checked again.

That moon was a rare treasure. Habitable worlds were almost beyond price. The glaring primary was eclipsed for a portion of each orbit around its stony giant parent, holding the moon’s temperature to comfortable levels.

T’lass frantically began to enter new data for the navigation computer. Lezon could have done it in a tenth of the time but kits don’t learn if they don’t do.

Lezon made a major change in the flight path planned by T’lass. “Your course puts the D’ancer into an orbit around this new world. Why have I changed it?”

They all looked at her as if she had lost her fur. Lezon explained as if it were elementary, “Being prepared for conflict is one of the most important parts of the Warrior’s Way. If there are technically advanced natives on that world, just barging in could panic them into shooting at us. We will park safely out of the way and use the lighters to scout and be sure that all is safe before we risk taking our home into harm’s way. We don’t want a repeat of how the Feront was found.”

The kits looked at each other and nodded, just slightly abashed that they had not remembered their history.

M’rel and T’cass, won the toss and went out exploring the newly found world in the D’ancer’s two lighters. The D’ancer itself was parked in orbit around the big gas-giant nearly 25 C minutes further out from the primary.

“Lezon,” K’ress asked, watching the spectacular rise of the primary through the giant’s atmosphere, “why have you never tried to leave us?”

Uncomfortably, the M’cratt twitched her tail and ears and looked down at the deck of the Clan ship D’ancer. “Ma’am, I owe you all too much. When T’cass pulled me from my destroyed Talon craft after the battle at M’onafar, I was nearly as dead as my ship. She spent all of her fortune to save me, and I had been your enemy.  When I awakened in the hospital, she took my submission.  It would be unethical to try to escape until the debit is paid.” That is true, except that the debit is long paid, she thought.

“You do know that we tested you. We gave you errands that you could have used to escape back to your own people. You never did.” K’ress cocked her ear quizzically. “Most M’cratti would not have been so ethical. I know this and so do my Clan-wives. Would it bother you to know that we have considered manumission for you?”

“Where would I go? The M’cratti would not give me any position of honor, having let myself be taken,” Lezon asked in genuine dismay.

“Surely, if we returned you, we could explain that you were unconscious when we took you. You discharged your ethical debit with the honor that your race is famous for… Why, they would have to give you a place of honor!”

Bitterly, Lezon replied, “You are Clan, I am M’cratt. You fight fiercely and are good opponents, worthy of respect, but you seek peace. We are warriors. We are the same species separated by ways of thought. We are even more alien to each other than the Feront is to our species.” How do I tell her that I have come to share their love of ship and Clan — And close personal feelings are forbidden to the M’cratti. Now I love them all. T’cass who saved my life at the cost of her own fortune. She knows who I am, and has shielded me. M’rel, the friend who would not ask or allow any other to ask my Name beyond what I was willing to give. K’ress, who trusted me with their first kit. I would miss playing with and teaching their kits. They trust me, and I them. What I feel for them all outweighs a lifetime of training and discipline. How can I tell her that without losing all of my honor?

Just then they began to receive a comm call from M’rel, saving Lezon from difficult introspection. She knew that what she felt for the D’ancer Clan was wrong but it felt right, too. She was not happy about it. That meant that her inner conflict was poorly managed.

“M’rel here,” said the familiar, softly furred face in the comm screen, both pointed ears leaning forward, her vertically slit eyes wide with interest, “the analysis is complete. The DNA is only a double spiral instead of our triple, but it uses the same amino-acid bases! We can safely eat most of the native proteins! More, we can’t get any of the local diseases! The data is in the secondary transmission.

“See you all soon, K’ress.  Tell Lezon that there is no intelligent life here. She fretted about safety for noth …” The transmission ended in a hiss of static.

Seeing the data display, part of Lezon’s heart shattered but the Warrior’s Way allowed her no time now for grief. She hit the controls swiftly, diving the D’ancer in a fast, hard entry into the Giant’s atmosphere. Throughout the ship, the soft penetrating bong of the emergency gong was sounding. Emergency maneuvering fields had locked everyone tight to the floor unless they were in a crash couch, preventing them from moving or being moved until released.

The ship ended its dive, resting quietly hundreds of miles under the atmosphere’s opaque cloud deck using minimum power to fly aerodynamically, barely above stall speed. Only dim emergency lights were on. The gravity compensation system was down, exposing the occupants to the full 3.9 g’s of the planet’s unmodified pull.

The kits, T’cill, T’lass and K’sere could be heard in the education quarters calling out, “Mothers! Lezon! What’s happened? Have we crashed? Why is the grav shield off? Everything’s too heavy!”

“Yes, why is the shield off?” asked K’ress, sensibly not reaching for any control that her trusted pilot had shut down.

“Lady K’ress, we are hiding. Your sister-wife is dead.”

Shocked, K’ress said, “M’rel? Dead? Are you sure?”

“Madam, I am certain. I’m sorry.”

Lezon called up the static at the end of the call and put it on the screen as data. She adjusted the scales to show clearly to the others what she already knew. She tapped a few keys and put the information onto the kit’s education screens as well. Speaking to all of them through the computer, she highlighted the first part of the static, which now showed a very regular pattern. The last section was wildly erratic with several high peaks.

“This portion is the cycle pattern of a Talon disruptor. I was a Talon pilot. I am sure of this.” Lezon moved the highlight to the last part of the static, adding red bars to some of the peaks. “These are helium and lithium ions at very high energy states. They could only have come from the detonation of M’rel’s power capsule. There is nothing left of her for us to recover. All that we can do is hope that T’cass has not been found as well.

“Disruptor patterns are nearly as distinctive as iris scans,” Lezon said as calmly as if for a classroom lecture to the kits. “That shot was fired by a Talon launched from my old carrier ship, the Hand of Claws.”

K’ress’s golden eyes looked questioningly at Lezon. “You could have surrendered us. You would have been back with your friends and we would be the slaves. Why didn’t you?”

“You have not treated me as a slave, in spite of my status on the crew manifest. You have not even required my whole true name. You spent a fortune to heal my body of injuries and vacuum damage and never even demanded the knowledge of who I was.”

“What you were not willing to give, we did not need. We know how important names are to M’cratt. You had to earn your Name and as far as we are concerned, you earned the right to keep it,” said K’ress firmly.

“I figured that out quickly. At first, I thought that your failure to demand my name was a gesture of contempt. The rest of your treatment of me proved otherwise. Now, I will give it to you freely. Ask me my name.”

“Your name? It is Lezon, common enough among the M’cratti who have earned their names. It is your people’s goddess of death, I believe. Is it important to know more?” K’ress was clearly puzzled.

“It is to me. Please ask,” pleaded Lezon.

“Very well, then. Please tell me your name.”

“I am Lezon Treh K’lass. By the Triple Goddess of Battle, while there is breath in this body that you gave back to me, I will save you if I can. I know how M’cratti treat their slaves. You and the kits deserve better.”

K’ress was truly taken aback. “I know that name. No M’cratti tactician is more feared by the Clans. Even the Feront is afraid of entering a battle that you lead. No wonder that you have kept your name a secret.”

“Lady K’ress, with due respect, when T’cass captured me and held my Name, your Clan respected that and never asked beyond what was given.

“Now that you have asked my name, I have told you. What I swear by my whole name, I must do. I could not escape before because T’cass took my submission, not my surrender. She acknowledged that she had not beaten me and so could not take my surrender. That required me to stay as a free Warrior and learn from her and fight by her side.”

“So — Now you must save us from your own ship by the oath you just took.” K’ress looked sympathetically at Lezon. “That must have been a hard thing to do.”

Tears fell like liquid stones in the high gravity of the Giant planet. “Madam, it was the hardest thing that I have ever done. War is easy by comparison. I love you all, the kits, too. I had no choice.” There, I’ve said it. My M’cratt honor is gone for good. I wonder if she knows what those words have cost me?

Lezon was surprised by the next words that she heard. K’sere, the second of the three kits, spoke through the ship’s comm. “I thought that M’cratti didn’t have Clans and couldn’t love.”

With a catch in her throat, Lezon replied, “You are right. It is not allowed. It violates the honor of the Warrior Way. It leads to weakness.”

The voice of T’cill said quietly, “you taught us the precepts of Clan. The first of these is that love is the source of Clan strength. Did you lie to us?”

T’lass, the youngest of the kits, spoke up at once, “Lezon never lied to us. Not ever. She taught us what we needed to learn, not what she believed. None of us asked her about her ways.

“She has just told us that she had no choice, that she loved us enough to swear to save us. That must have broken her Warrior Way’s honor. She chose us over her whole life’s training and belief.”

Speaking to Lezon directly now, T’lass, wiser than her few years would indicate, asked, “What can we do to help you save us, Warrior?”

Pride filled Lezon’s heart at the calm way that they were turning to her for leadership. “T’cill, get your sisters into the liquid exercise tank. Use the gill packs so that you can all stay underwater. We will soon be doing some maneuvers that will be truly savage. Pray to your goddesses that the ship holds together. It is well built and I have worked to make it better since I knew that I would stay with you, come what may. Still, the D’ancer was not made for war.”

“Lady K’ress, call up passive detection subroutine 14-25. I have put three profiles on your screen, if you find any of them, put them onto my screen immediately.”

“I have never seen this routine before,” remarked K’ress. “How does it work? Where is the tachyon emitter source?”

“The routine is a secret that I was working on when my Talon was hit and lost. It uses any natural background source, like the planet under us, and if there are more than one source available, like the star, it triangulates even more accurately. It still needs work before it can be used for fire control. Even so, it makes things enough better that we will only need one targeting ping to fire accurately.”

The D’ancer’s decks could be felt shuddering underfoot as the eight hundred mile per hour winds outside buffeted her. That brought another concern to the forefront of K’ress’s mind. “Should we be so deep in this atmosphere?” she asked anxiously.

“No, my Lady, we should not,” answered Lezon absently, as she scanned her instrumentation. “We are fifty five percent over the safety limit of our hull. I looked into the D’ancer’s specifications long ago. The safety limit was set with a factor of two, so if all is well made, and I have made sure that it is, we still have a small reserve.”

“I see that we have long underestimated the complexity of being a Warrior — I have targets.” She transferred the screen information to the pilot.

“Good,” approved Lezon. “T’cass has landed on the second planet and powered down. The Talons know where she is though, see the courses that they’ve set? I hope that she has the sense to get clear of the ship. They won’t have to be closer than about 10 C seconds to open fire with their disruptors.”

“What is that fuzzy looking target?” asked K’ress, highlighting one of the objects on the screen.

“That is the Hand of Claws,” said Lezon. “She appears indistinct in this detection mode because her shields are at maximum. If Commander M’ase still has her bridge, she knows that the lighters have a ship in the near neighborhood. We are masked by the planet’s bulk and natural tachyon flux for now. M’ase will be worried about where we are. A Clan ship should have come to investigate when one of its lighters went off screen.”

/////////////////////////

On the command deck of the Hand of Claws, Commander of Talons, M’ase Carra L’on, was twitching her ears in annoyance and her green eyes were slitted narrow as she tried to will the Clan ship to show itself.

“This one doesn’t act like a Clanner. Where is the mother ship?” She demanded of the empty air. She spun on her heel and nearly pounced on her hapless detection officer. “Where are they? How could a minor Clan ship hide from us?”

Cringing, the officer replied, “We never did see the main ship. Perhaps they are out-system, recording the find.”

It was the wrong thing to say. M’ase had gone totally still, utterly focused. “If they record the find,” she purred in a voice that reminded everyone on the command deck of a leather strop honing a blade past razor sharpness, “we have struck to no point, wasted resources and time. It was you who said that they had to be near. We attacked on your assessment. We will proceed. If they are not found soon, this will come out of your shares.”

The Talon flight officer called in, saving the detection officer from further wrath, “Target on planet two eliminated. The capsule was powered down and failed to detonate but instruments recorded the destruction of the vehicle.”

M’ase said in satisfaction, “That should bring them running to see what happened to their other mate. Set scans wider to spot them as far out as possible.”

Relieved to have a task, the detection officer did as she was ordered. “Detection limits out to 2 C hours, Ma’am! Resolution at two and a half minutes of arc. We will focus more tightly after contact,” she reported in a matter-of-fact voice.

M’ase ordered, “Talons, return to ship. Well done. Your actions have secured this rich system for us. We only need to find the Clanner that those lighters came from and all is ours. They cannot hide for long.”

Detection looked at her screens and fretted whether to report what she had seen. Gas-giants always contributed some background tachyon flux. She debated whether to report the tiny, unfocused flux increase to the Commander. Caution won out.

“Commander, there is something happening on the nearby Gas-giant. The unfocused tachyon flux is up by a tenth of one percent.”

“Is that significant?”

“No, but it does lower our scan resolution in that area by a fraction.”

/////////////////////////

“Lezon, what are you doing?” asked K’ress as she watched Lezon get up and walk heavily aft.

“I need to re-route some power. The cables are heavy but it must be done.”

“I will unlock the engineering panel. We can do it from here,” said K’ress, reaching for the panel lock.

“I wish that it were so easy, K’ress,” sighed Lezon. “That panel will allow us to reconfigure power within the system. We need to reconfigure the system itself.”

K’ress got out of her crash couch and staggered aft with Lezon. “I will help, if you show me what to do.”

“Lady, you are our eyes. I need to know when the Talons get close to the Hand of Claws.”

“How close?” asked a voice from the education room.

“T’cill! Get into the tank with your sisters,” said K’ress sharply.

“I have a screen here,” replied T’cill, “and a couch. I can watch for you while you work.”

“Call me when they are two C seconds from the Hand of Claws,” said Lezon, tacitly accepting the help. “The Hand is the fuzzy one not far off from us. The Talons show as arrows pointing their course. T’cass shows as a circle on the second planet. Let us know all that occurs.”

Lezon and K’ress went on to the power room in the ship’s core. The power capsule sat, a squat oblong with rounded ends and edges, floating in the midst of its cradle. It only touched the cradle when it was shut down. The collector was like an assemblage of silvery rings about the capsule. Each one had a superconducting cable emerging from it. They all joined together into a single large high saturation superconductor that went into the distribution room. There the cable became a monstrous hydra of quick-connectors and smaller cables, each routed to a specific other cable or piece of equipment. There were many connectors that had no cables attached and each of the cables could reach any of the empty connections.

K’ress looked at the arraignment in surprise. “When did we get all of this slack in the cables and all of these extra connectors? What is the purpose?”

“Lady K’ress, I had it installed during the refit last planet-fall. It is one of the improvements that I have made,” said Lezon, struggling to release a connector in the heavy pull of the Gas-giant’s gravity. “Would you turn this handle one third of a turn?”

Still mystified, K’ress did as asked. It wasn’t easy. A small spray of icy vapor from liquid nitrogen coolant accompanied the release of the connector. As the two of them struggled to shift its weight over and attach it to one of the other heads of the hydra, Lezon continued, “When I was injured and trapped in my shot-up Talon after the battle at M’onafar, I was only three inches of cable from safety. Those three inches of slack that weren’t there nearly cost me my life. Only T’cass checking out a wrecked enemy ship for salvage saved me.” They both were panting when the job was done.

They were interrupted by T’cill’s despairing call, “They just destroyed mommy T’cass’s ship! It’s gone!” The kit began to cry inconsolably.

Lezon felt another part of her shattering but she had to save the others before she could mourn. A new determination settled over her. The Hand of Claws was going to pay.

She and K’ress hurried for the education room as swiftly as the gravity allowed. There they enfolded the sobbing T’cill in their arms and held her close.

“You did well,” Lezon told her. “That was hard for you to watch. I could not have changed that cable by myself. We shall mourn together later. Now we must battle for our lives. I do need you in that tank. Put on your gill. Without the water for a cushion, you will be hurt, and I don’t want that.”

Lezon left the kit in her mother’s arms and went to the control room. Settling thankfully into her crash couch, she began delicately working to get the D’ancer, hidden down in the giant’s atmosphere, lined up so that she could get the shot that she wanted. She began to slowly trickle up the tachyon flux of the targeting system, carefully unfocused.

She had never entertained much hope that the seven little five kiloton per second guns of the D’ancer’s forward battery could do much damage, so long as they stayed strictly Clan legal. So — the guns of the ship’s batteries were still technically legal. They now used a few pounds per second of targeting flux followed by a short ten megaton pulse per weapon. Each blast was brief enough that the five kiloton per second per weapon limit was observed. The T.C. had reluctantly put their seal on her fire control software.

Even with this change, it would be touch and go to strike the Hand of Claws at far closer range. The Talons were a different story altogether. They were lightly shielded, high speed, short range heavy firepower. At only four C seconds range, they would be sitting ducks during the one time that they were forced to be nearly still. While they were entering or leaving the Hand of Claws’ shield they had to match speed, position and shield intensity with the big ship.

///////////////////

M’ase was still nervously pacing the control deck of the Hand of Claws. So far everything had gone perfectly, except that the Clan ship itself had yet to be found. She was certain that the detection officer’s assessment was accurate or she would never have acted against the Clanners. Their ship was somewhere nearby. When it was found, the big homing missile launchers and long range tachyon batteries of the Hand of Claws would make short work of it.

The Talons, having done their work, were returning to their mother ship. In an hour, they would begin a serious combined search spiral through the system and conduct a detailed survey while they were at it. They already knew, thanks to the data transmission that they had picked up just prior to the destruction of the first lighter, that the moon of the stony giant was a rare and valuable habitable world. That would make the rest of the system’s resources easily exploitable and provide a safe haven where people could relax without fear. A good place to raise more Warriors.

It was just the Clan ship’s bad luck that they had found it first, by days only, apparently. Their ship log would be compared to the log of the Hand of Claws and the matter of ownership would be settled by an Interstellar Treaty Tribunal. Unless, of course, the Clan ship’s otherwise indelible log dissolved in disruptor or tachyon fire, or a missile’s nuclear fireball.

The Talons were now coming close in so that they could resupply in their launch bays. M’ase listened with half an ear to the chatter of the docking procedure. The Hand of Claws’ defensive fields were matched and phased to the Talon ships’ shields so that they could get into their berths.

The first warning that all was not right was the panicked voice of fire-control shouting “Ping!” as she desperately pulled the shields as hard and tight as possible. The blast slamming into the ship caused more damage than she had taken during the whole of the last war.

The Hand of Claws was spinning about her short axis, tumbling away from the expanding cloud of vapor that was all that was left of the nearer Talon. The other’s smashed wreckage was already showing on the screen as it spun wildly away. M’ase picked herself up from the base of life-support’s crash couch and looked about the bridge. Even here in the most solidly protected part of the ship except for the power capsules, there was damage.

M’ase listened as the damage reports flowed in. All Talon bays damaged too severely for launch. Attitude control at only sixty percent. Primary tachyon radiator destroyed. Drive at sixty five percent. Eight hull breeches. Main batteries number one four and five off line entirely. All missile launchers out of action. Shielding was still functional but the generators had damage. There were crew injuries all over the ship.

They were only barely operational. Crews were doing what was needed to contain the damage. M’ase smiled and put damage control from her mind. Her crew knew what to do. “I would like to meet you, Clan. You think like a Warrior,” she said, pleased that she had found a worthy adversary. She turned to detection and fire control. “Where did that come from and what was it?”

Next==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to Science Fiction

[realtalk-tj]

hi could you please run me through the structure of honors physics? like which chapters they cover per quarter, is the hw the problems from the textbook, how often are there tests, etc... thank you!

Response from Aurora: 

I did pretty badly in physics and I took it this past year when school shut down, so I didn’t get to see what the last 3 months looked like, but I’ll try my best! 

The homework is two WebAssigns per week. Each WebAssign is 6 problems (so 12 problems per week). That might sound easy, but usually each problem has 4 parts, give or take. They’re also incredibly difficult, but luckily, all the solutions are on various websites on the internet. The WebAssigns are not graded, so if you absolutely can’t figure out a problem on your own, it’s perfectly acceptable to google solutions. However, it is extremely important that you always attempt the problems on your own first, and use google only as a last resort. Make sure when you’re googling solutions, you understand and know all the steps very well, because next class, you’ll have a quiz on the WebAssign. The quiz will be 10 points, closed-note, timed, and based on one of the problems from the WebAssign (usually one of the medium-difficulty ones). Sometimes it’ll be the exact problem word for word but with different numbers, and other times it’ll be a bit different. So, you can memorize the solutions, but that won’t always work out and hence, you should focus on actually learning and understanding the material. 

The labs make up a good chunk of your grade and are pretty easy. Your teacher will go over everything, you then do it yourself and make all the calculations you need to, and do the lab write up. The lab write up is in a lab book that you never take out of the classroom and has bleed through paper (you write on one sheet and that bleeds out to the sheet underneath, and the one underneath is what you turn in, while the one on top is for you to keep), so make sure you write with a really good pen and press hard. Actually, I guess this year you’ll be doing them online, so you don’t have to worry about this lmao. The lab write up is really basic and includes stuff like writing the objectives of the lab, the methods (outline what steps you took), data section (if you collected any), all your calculations, and a conclusion. Your grade is based on doing all of the components of the write up and having accurate calculations. 

The tests are every 3-4 weeks and make up the majority of your grade (up until 4th quarter) and are super hard. They’ll be similar to the problems you go over in class and maybe similar to the problems from the WebAssigns. They are usually 3 free response questions (usually with 3-5 parts), each worth 20 points, and 15-20 multiple choice questions, each worth 2 points. You usually have the whole period to do the tests. The multiple choice is often harder than the free response, because there’s no chance for partial credit. To study for the multiple choice, read the corresponding textbook chapter. Usually the teacher who makes the test has their students do free response problems similar to the test questions in class. So, to study for the free response, figure out who’s making the test and study with someone in their class lmao, or ask them what types of problems their teacher went over. There’s a couple shorter units that are only 2 weeks long, so for those units, you’ll have what the physics department calls “quests.” Quests are usually 2 free response questions, both 20 points, and 5-10 multiple choice questions. Also, keep in mind that while some of the tests are curved, it is almost never by a substantial amount. 

In 4th quarter, you do something called wave labs. Idk what they are but they’re apparently these really cool labs. The grading weight is switched so that labs make up the majority of your grade. You also have less tests, less WebAssigns, and overall, the quarter is much chiller and people usually have higher grades. So if you don’t do as well as you hoped the first three quarters, don’t worry too much about it, because 4th quarter will very likely bring your overall grade up. During distance learning, we did online lab simulations, so I imagine that’s what you’ll be doing. 

The midterm and final are each 10% of your grade and are all multiple choice. I sucked at multiple choice and like I mentioned before, there’s no chance for partial credit, so I found the midterm pretty hard (we didn’t take the final bc yk but I heard it’s equally or slightly less difficult). Your teacher will give you a review packet, and you should also utilize the textbook. 

The textbook is called Physics for Scientists and Engineers: A Strategic Approach by Randall Knight (PDF link here). Here are the units and textbook chapters by quarter: 

Quarter 1:

Vectors - Chapter 3 

Kinematics - Chapters 2 and 4

Forces - Chapters 5, 6 and 7

Quarter 2:

Momentum - Chapter 9

Work and Energy - Chapters 10 and 11 

Rotation - Chapter 12 

Quarter 3:

Gravity - Chapter 13 

Electricity - Chapters 25, 26, 27, 28 (I think idk this was when school shut down)

Quarter 4:

Waves - Chapters 20 and 21 

Magnetism (?) - Chapter 32

Current - Chapter 30 

You can find a helpful study guide here. 

[v-thinks-on]

Generations - Part 7

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Jim examined the chess board, looking at it this way and that. There was no way around it; Spock’s play had improved significantly in the past eighty years, while Jim had only stagnated.

Spock raised an eyebrow at him. You had no chance to play in the Nexus?

Jim shot him a look.

While Jim was in the Nexus, Spock had played chess with ambassadors, Starfleet officers, and beings from all across the galaxy. Apparently, he had even succeeded at teaching a Horta to play, though it required a much larger board constructed of heat resistant material. And in return, he had learned a game of their own, though it proved difficult without the ability to corrode solid rock.

Finally, Jim made his move.

“Fascinating,” Spock said aloud and moved a piece of his own.

Jim glanced between Spock and the board. He was employing a much more forward style of play than the Vulcan strategy Jim was familiar with. But Jim could work with that. He leaned in towards Spock and advanced another piece with a mischievous smirk.

“You are as reckless as ever,” Spock remarked, but Jim could feel the warmth behind his words, and beneath it a deep longing, like nostalgia.

Jim pursed his lips in teasing annoyance as Spock continued to close his trap around Jim’s king. If there was a way out, Jim couldn’t see it.

Desperate times called for desperate measures. Spock had only a flash of warning before Jim reached out and settled his cool hand on top of Spock’s warm one. Their minds collided with a sudden rush of eager emotion. Jim rubbed circles in the back of Spock’s hand sending thrills down both their spines.

“I take this as your resignation,” Spock remarked, despite the distraction of all of Jim’s thoughts and feelings, sparking through his mind.

Jim merely grinned, but he didn’t deny it. Instead, he said, “You’ve become much more inventive. I would be impressed if it wasn’t so frustrating.”

“I do not see why you cannot be simultaneously impressed and frustrated,” Spock countered.

Jim gave him a look, and ran his hand down Spock’s long fingers in a kind of vengeance. Their minds pulled toward each other and their bond stretched open, letting their thoughts and feelings rush through. Even their very identities seemed no longer so distinct. Spock could only marvel at this mind, so familiar and vibrant with heartfelt affection, returned to him after so long. He yearned for the wholeness of a meld as much as he reflexively wanted to withdraw into meditation and process his contradictory emotions - Jim had only touched the surface and knew better than to press deeper.

At last, with a lingering touch, Jim withdrew his hand and declared, “Good game.”

Spock inclined his head. There was some suggestion of a smile around his eyes, but his expression remained flat, not that Jim was fooled.

“I am certain you will find the weakness in my strategy before long,” Spock said aloud.

Jim grinned. “I plan on it.”

“I look forward to the eventuality. Now, however,” Spock said, pushing away from the table, “if you will excuse me, it is past time I went to pay Lieutenant Commander Worf a visit.”

Jim nodded and stretched in his chair. “That’ll give me a chance to finish the book Jean-Luc lent me. I should give it back to him before we reach Earth.”

Jim felt Spock’s mixed feelings toward Captain Picard, mingled as they were his feelings for Sarek.

Jim put a sympathetic hand on Spock’s arm. “Say ‘hi’ to Mr. Worf for me.”

“I will convey your greetings,” Spock said and stood to leave.

Jim held up a hand and their fingers brushed together in a quick parting embrace, before Spock headed out the door.

 Spock found Worf in the holodeck. The elaborate scenery of the Sherlock Holmes program had been replaced by a small circle of light in a black void. Worf had positioned himself in the middle of the circle, surrounded by small colorful dots flitting in and out of the darkness. Spock picked up a phaser by the entrance and made his way over to the center of the room. The arch disappeared behind him.

“Ambassador,” Worf exclaimed as Spock joined him. He hastily lowered his phaser. “Freeze program,” he ordered, and the lights froze in mid air.

“I do not intend to interrupt,” Spock said. “May I join you?”

Worf appeared skeptical, but assented, “If you want.”

Spock took his place next to Worf in the center of the circle, looking out on the scattered multi-colored lights.

“Resume program,” Worf instructed, and the dots of light resumed flickering in and out of view.

Spock watched as Worf returned to his target practice. “Captain Kirk conveys his greetings,” Spock remarked.

Worf nodded in acknowledgement, preoccupied with shooting into the swirling lights.

Spock raised his own phaser with a measured hand and fired into the darkness. The blast hit a blue dot precisely on target.

Worf glanced over at Spock in surprise. Finally, he said, a little awkwardly, “I thought Vulcans were pacifists. Why did you join Starfleet?”

Spock lowered his phaser and regarded Worf for a moment. “I have found that there are things worth fighting for. However, I joined Starfleet simply because I was not needed on Vulcan. I could likewise ask you why you are in Starfleet rather than the Klingon Imperial force."

“Because no Klingon had ever done it before,” Worf replied, shooting another dot in mid air.

Spock nodded. “Being first is not an easy task, but you have done well.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Spock took aim and shot a yellow dot.

Worf hesitated again, but this time he spoke confidently - “Why did you argue for my admission to Starfleet Academy? I was not aware of any other Vulcans taking your ‘logical’ stance.”

“There were not,” Spock acknowledged. “Vulcans have been content to keep to themselves, perhaps for too long. The Federation’s policy of non-interference is based in Vulcan philosophy. However, I have found that it is not always the best way. We are members of the Federation, and it is our duty to contribute to its development.” 

“I see,” Worf replied, though he clearly did not. He fired at a few more dots, hitting two of them.

“Humans sometimes forget that the Federation represents other species as well as their own. You have played an essential role in reminding them.”

“The Klingon Empire is not part of the Federation,” Worf protested.

“It is not. However, you are a member of the Federation, and if the Klingons are to remain our allies, we ought to treat them as allies. There is still much mistrust between the Klingon Empire and the Federation.”

“But Klingons are not humans.” Worf hesitated. “It is not easy to be a Klingon and a Starfleet officer.”

“But that may change with time. Your presence alone has managed to ease some of that mistrust.”

“Captain Picard and Commander Riker have also contributed.”

“Yes, my congratulations to Captain Picard for being named the Klingon Arbiter of Succession. I must wonder why he was chosen.”

Worf straightened his posture in defense of his captain. “No Klingon could be trusted to be impartial, and, as a Klingon, there is no one I would rather I have at my side.”

“He is remarkably analytical and dispassionate,” Spock acknowledged.

“Though he is a human, Captain Picard is honorable and brave.”

“Fascinating. I have found an almost Vulcan quality in your captain, you describe him as possessing Klingon virtues, and Mr. Data sees him as a role model in his quest to be more human.” Again, Spock raised his phaser and fired at a green dot.

For a little while, they stood in silence as Worf returned to his target practice.

Spock took another shot before he asked, “Do you intend to transfer onto the Enterprise-E?”

“I do not know,” Worf said. “I have benefited from my time on the Enterprise, however perhaps its destruction is a sign that I should consider another path.”

“Would you return to the Klingon Empire?”

“Perhaps that is where I belong. Maybe I have been away for too long. Do you regret leaving Vulcan?”

“No. But I am only half Vulcan.”

“My son is three quarters Klingon, but he would not belong in the Empire.”

Spock nodded. “There are disadvantages to having such a proud heritage.”

“He would be happier on Earth with my parents.”

“The Rozhenkos?”

“Yes.”

“I met them when they were petitioning to adopt you. They appear to have done well.”

“They are very human, but they did not attempt to make me less of a Klingon.”

Spock almost smiled. “As an ambassador, it is easy to forget the individuals that make up the galaxy. I am pleased to have finally had the opportunity to meet you.”

“Thank you, sir,” Worf replied stiffly.

“Shouldn’t be more than 3 hours now,” La Forge declared.

Riker leaned back in his chair and took another gulp of coffee.

Time of day didn’t exist on a starship like it would on a planet’s surface, but in the Farragut’s quiet recreation room, it felt like they were in the middle of a long nighttime vigil. A handful of officers sat at scattered tables, looking out on the stars through a wall of windows. Over-bright lights were the only thing keeping the inky black of space at bay.

Kirk stood at the window, watching the bright blue orb of Uranus in the distance, making its long orbit around the sun. He could feel Spock observing him from the table, where he sat with La Forge, Riker, and Worf. A few feet away, he could hear Data tuning his violin.

Each time Jim had returned to port, he had thought it would be the last. At least he wouldn’t be trapped behind a console this time, but still he could feel a sense of unease roiling in the pit of his stomach. The sight of the planets was by then a familiar foreboding of what was to come. He wondered how much had changed on Earth while he was gone and how much had stayed the same.

Spock hesitated, torn between joining Jim at the window, beckoning him to return to the table with the others, and leaving him to his thoughts.

Before he had a chance to decide, Riker asked the table at large, breaking them both from their thoughts, “What are you going to do first when you get down to Earth?”

“You mean after all the paperwork?” La Forge retorted.

Riker waved it off. “The paperwork can wait. First, I’m going to do some sightseeing. Deanna and I were talking about going to Yosemite - I haven’t been in ages.”

The memory of the last time Kirk and Spock had been at Yosemite flashed across their bond, not entirely pleasant. Aloud, Spock said, “I do not recommend the rock climbing.”

Riker turned to him with a grin. “You used to rock climb?” he asked, incredulous.

“I do not need to have attempted it to know that it is inadvisable.”

“It would be an interesting experience to go to Yosemite now that I am capable of experiencing emotion,” Data remarked. He looked up at the others as he spoke, but continued tuning his violin without pause.

“I’m sure,” Riker said, “Though I didn’t exactly mean it as an invitation...”

“Don’t worry, we won’t crash your date,” La Forge said. “First we have to check in on the Enterprise-E, right Data?”

“Yes, and then I would like to go to the International Art Gallery to see how the emotion chip influences my experience.”

“And maybe we can drop by Yosemite later,” La Forge suggested. “I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time.”

“What about you, Mr. Worf?” Riker asked.

“Alexander and I are going to visit my parents,” Worf said shortly.

Riker turned to Spock - “What are you and the captain going to do?”

“The captain has little choice in the matter,” Spock replied. “The President of the Federation expects to meet him at the transporter terminal in San Francisco.”

Kirk tore himself away from the window and made his way over to the others. “I thought we were going to Georgia first and then deal with all the pomp and circumstance,” he said as he sat down beside Spock.

“You were briefed on the plan.”

“I know.” Kirk waved it off. “At least we’ll get it over with.”

Spock could feel Kirk’s intention. “I do not believe the president would be pleased with my presence, as I remained on Romulus against direct orders.”

“We just have to make it clear that they’re not getting one of us without the other.” Kirk fixed Spock with a look that challenged him to argue, but made it clear that he would make no headway.

“As you wish, Captain,” Spock replied, equal parts appreciative and exasperated.

Kirk and Spock watched each other, as though in silent conversation, but nothing more concrete than feelings passed through the bond. 

His tuning done, Data began to play, slow and quiet and first, and then steadily faster and faster, until the rec room echoed with a flurry of notes rushing to and fro like the push and pull of the ocean.

“Data, maybe something a little cheerier?” La Forge suggested as the melody rose to a dramatic peak.

The music stopped at once. “My apologies. Would this be more fitting?” Data asked and jumped straight into a bouncy pastoral tune.

“Sure,” La Forge said with a smile.

Meanwhile, Riker glanced between Kirk and Spock. “How did you two manage for all those years? You got together when you were still serving on the same ship, right?”

“Yes,” Spock replied.

Kirk shot Spock a grin before answering Riker, “Not much changed. We both knew the Enterprise came first.”

Spock raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

“Well, usually,” Kirk admitted. “Outside of extenuating circumstances.”

“Such as Ambassador Spock’s death?” Data confirmed without missing a note. “According to the record, you were court-martialed for stealing and destroying the original USS Enterprise in your attempt to retrieve him from the Genesis planet.”

Kirk sighed. “Yes, like that. But I wasn’t the only one who made some inadvisable rescues” - he glanced over at Spock with a wry smile.

Spock’s eyes widened in a suggestion of innocence.

Kirk brought the conversation back around; “What can I say? We worked well together.”

“I can see that,” Riker said with a grin.

“I’m still surprised you and Captain Picard get along so well,” Kirk remarked.

Riker shrugged. “I think we make a good team. He’s still my superior officer, but I’ve found that I don’t mind leaving the big decisions to someone else.”

Kirk and Spock exchanged a glance of shared disbelief.

“You didn’t seem to mind leaving things up to me,” Kirk pointed out.

Spock raised an eyebrow at him. “Your logic was usually sound and when it was not I could often convince you to take a more logical course of action.”

“You weren’t this stubborn before you started meeting with the Klingons,” Kirk teased.

“Klingons do not tolerate insubordination,” Worf insisted.

“I have found that a good leader, regardless of their species, will yield to logic when confronted with it,” Spock said.

“A true Klingon never yields!” Worf exclaimed.

“As much fun as this debate is” - Riker pushed himself to his feet - “I think I’ll go get my trombone. Data, mind if I join you for a duet?”

Data stopped playing at once. “Not at all, sir. There are multiple sonatas for violin and trombone, or I could adapt another piece-”

Riker cut him off with a wave. “We can just improvise.”

Data nodded. “I have studied several improvisatory techniques, though I have not attempted them since acquiring my emotion chip. In the past I have always found my playing to be lacking, but maybe that has changed.”

Kirk could tell Spock was thinking about his lyre - left at his father’s home on Vulcan, though one could be replicated. Kirk gave him a little mental nudge, actually bumping up against Spock’s shoulder for emphasis.

Spock gave Kirk a look, but it was not long before he turned to Data and asked, “Might I join you as well? I have some experience playing the Vulcan lyre.”

“Of course, sir,” Data said. “As a human would say, the more the merrier.”

Spock inclined his head in gratitude and went over to one of the replicators to acquire a lyre while Data finished up the light and energetic piece he had been playing.

Riker was the first to return, bearing a trombone as promised. He sat down next to Data, held up his trombone, and took the lead with a jazzy rhythm. It was upbeat, but unlike the pastoral melody that evoked a beautiful mid-morning with sunny skies, the jazz somehow served to remind them of the night-like darkness outside the windows, interrupted only by the pinprick lights of countless stars. If only the lights in the rec-room were down fifty percent, the atmosphere would have been perfect.

Spock soon rejoined them, a simple replicated lyre in hand, but he did not take his place next to Data and Riker. Instead, he sat back down with Kirk to listen.

With each breath Riker took, the blasts of the trombone sounded over the low whine of the violin. The melody seemed to go in leaps and bounds, jumping from note to note with a forceful energy that almost made it impossible not to move in time with the music - though Spock seemed to be immune to its effects.

With a final drawn out blast, Riker fell back to just provide a rhythm while Data took the lead on violin. He bowed furiously, drawing forth a frantic stream of notes. At times it even seemed like there were two violins playing at once, when really there was only one. The intertwined melodies seemed to dance around the room, swinging and laughing with wild abandon.

When at last Data paused with a final flourish, Riker gestured for Spock to jump in as he and Data formed a low, steady backbeat.

Spock hesitated.

Kirk gave him another nudge with an easy, open smile. He looked at Spock as he always had, his emotions bared across his face in a strikingly human way.

As he raised the artificial lyre, Spock could feel the full force of Kirk's attention, watching him expectantly. It had been a long time since Spock had played for anyone, let alone Jim. For humans music was often considered a means of emotional expression, he wondered if perhaps he now had some inkling as to why. The captain's mere presence evoked in him so many feelings he could not begin to name let alone express.

Finally, in keeping with the jazzy theme, Spock began to pluck at the lyre. He started softly, but it soon coalesced into what sounded like a fast rain. One after another, notes seemed to fall from the lyre like droplets of water. Just as the rivulets made by one drop began to spread, another followed after and overtook them, until the whole surface shimmered with lively movement.

When at last he slowed to a stop, the others, led by Kirk, of course, erupted into applause. He raised his eyebrows in skepticism, but he could not conceal his pleasure from Kirk.

While Spock had been playing, he hardly noticed the arrival of Captain Picard, who had joined Kirk, Worf, and La Forge at the table to listen. Now that they had stopped, Picard spoke up, “I haven’t heard traditional Vulcan lyre music since” - he stopped, realizing the memories he referred to were not his own. “I’ve never actually heard it played. Could I request something?”

Spock glanced at Riker and Data for permission to play a solo. Riker gestured for him to go ahead.

“I will play a meditation by Solkar,” Spock said.

“He was one of the Vulcans who made first contact with Earth,” Riker remarked.

Spock nodded, but his attention was fixed upon Picard. “He wrote many meditations for lyre. This is the one which I recall Sarek playing most frequently.”

With that, Spock raised his lyre once more. This time, he began by turning the dials on the frame to produce a low whistle. Then, he drew his hand across the strings, making ripples in the steady flow of sound, first up and then down. He played low and then echoed it high in a sort of call and response, slowly drawing closer and closer to meet in the middle, so that one voice was almost indistinguishable from the other. He turned up one of the dials so the whistle rose to a low howl and then faded back into silence. 

As a proper meditation, it was not met with applause.

After a moment’s silence, Picard remarked, sounding somewhat uncertain about the knowledge that was not his own, “It’s a meditation on the duties of an ambassador.”

“Yes,” Spock said, “It is intended to encourage reflection on contact between two disparate worlds.”

Kirk grinned in understanding - to a Vulcan, contact connotated a meeting of minds.

“Thank you,” Picard said. “I only shared a small connection with Sarek, but in a way he’s still a part of me.”

Spock inclined his head in acknowledgement, before turning to Data. “I have never seen anyone use your bowing technique.”

“I have found that it allows for optimal precision and efficiency,” Data explained.

Meanwhile, Riker asked, “What about you, Mr. Worf? Know any Klingon operas you could sing?”

“Only the bravest warriors dare perform in operas,” Worf replied, apparently serious.

“Why’s that?” La Forge asked.

“Unlike human opera, the combat is real.”

[cindylouwho-2]

RECENT NEWS, RESOURCES & STUDIES, December 2019

Welcome to my latest summary of recent news, resources & studies including search, analytics, content marketing, social media & ecommerce! This covers articles I came across since the October report, although some may be older than that.

I am also missing a lot here, but pared it down somewhat to make more readable. The lead up to the holiday shopping season was a lot crazier than I expected 🙃

Given the time of year, please do not expect another report until January. However, I will do brief posts of important news/blog posts in the interim as needed.

There are going to be big changes to this report coming in 2020. Have any suggestions or feedback?  Leave a comment below, email me through my website, or send me a message on Twitter.

TOP NEWS & ARTICLES

You are going to need to add Etsy’s tax ID to customs forms on New Zealand orders as of Dec. 1. Etsy’s ID is: 122-669-18.

FTC issues huge fines for selling fake likes & followers on social media, and for posting fake reviews online. “The [likes and followers] case could pave the way for further legal action on the same grounds, using the Devumi case as precedent. Indeed, shortly after the initial finding by the NY Attorney General, Facebook announced that it was moving ahead with legal action against several providers which it had found to be dealing in fake social media engagement.”

Everyone should read this article, if only to learn what not to do: Using “priming” to convert more buyers/users is a crucial marketing tactic.”Priming works by using associations made in our subconscious, and are almost always unnoticeable to the subject.” Example: “During a study, researchers approached customers in an electronics store, who’d entered to buy a new laptop.Half of the customers were asked what their memory needs were, and the other half were asked what their processor needs were...The group who were asked about memory, bought computers with higher memory and the group who were asked about processor speed, bought computers with much higher processor speeds.”

Etsy removed the word “Bugs” from the Bugs forum, & admits they will only will be monitoring it from 9-5 Etsy time (ET) Monday to Friday. They won’t be replying, but expect “hundreds of sellers” to do that job for them, unpaid. If you have an issue, you will now need to email through the Contact page, use the new 24 hour live chat, or phone them. [Note the parts they aren’t mentioning - Support is taking over a week to reply to emails right now, live chat will only be able to help with the simplest of questions (e.g., how do I change my email address?) & it is possible to spend over an hour on hold when you phone. You could spend quite a bit of money on long distance fees, especially if you are in a country that doesn’t have its own phone number, all for something you used to be able to get for free in the forum, sometimes on the same day. This is Etsy’s definition of “major improvements”.]

Check out this proposed US legislation, which wants large internet companies [yes, Etsy fits their definition] to reveal their algorithms & offer visitors a version with no “filter bubble.” You might not like Etsy search now, but I can guarantee it would become impossible if they removed all of the algorithm factors. [This editorial is a bit over the top, but does cover some of the key questions.]

ETSY NEWS

Items have been disappearing from a small number of Etsy searches since July, & Etsy still won’t tell us what is going on. If you discover you are affected, please let me know.

There have been a few threads on Etsy sending threatening emails about shops being below Etsy’s customer service expectations, often for just a few bad feedbacks or cases, which has shocked many long time sellers (even though they have been sending them for years; it appears they have decreased the number of “problems” you need to have to get an email.) Without announcing anything, Etsy released a page of “seller service level standards” that can help explain what they are looking for, namely cases & 1-2 star reviews, as well as the exact formula they use. I started a discussion thread here, & in case Etsy deletes comments in the thread, here is the dashboard showing your score. (Some people cannot make that link work; Etsy says only shops that received a warning can see it.) My blog post is here.

I summarized the 3rd quarter report here, and Etsy summarized it here. The stock market is not happy with management at the moment, with Morgan Stanley this past week stating that they expected Etsy’s 4th quarter to be worse than originally predicted, due to state sales tax laws and Etsy’s reduction in its Google Shopping ad buying. Note Etsy removed the “priority placement” for US free shipping about a week after the 3rd Q report, without any announcement, probably due to the blowback about it reducing first page conversions. (They didn’t announce anything; it just disappeared.)

Cyber Week traffic on Etsy was more than double what they saw on the average summer day.

They did a Q & A thread on the new stats, which wasn’t particularly useful. They admitted they intentionally removed the keyword & other data prior to November 2017 because “older data periods are less comparable to current stats”. [I believe that is code for “we’re too cheap to pay for the storage; investors need their payouts.”] They did finally add YOY comparisons back in a few weeks ago.

Etsy has again changed a few category & attribute options, including more baby stuff.

They did a holiday gift shopping promotion where people could call Etsy & get suggestions for gifts on Nov. 5. All gifts shipped free, so non-free shipping shops were not included. “It could also be a case study for personalization efforts to come from the long-running handmade marketplace.”

You’ve probably already noticed that Convos are now called Messages, but here is the announcement with the details just in case.

Etsy ran an Etsy search critique thread on November 13; the thread wasn't particularly useful, as almost all the staff who do the critiques aren’t experts in search. Basically, they say to use all of your tags, avoid repeating words in tags & titles, have 3-4 short phrases in your title, use commas in your titles (”Buyer research shows that using commas instead of dashes helps titles appear more clean and readable”), offer free shipping, and use all of your photos. The big takeaway for me was - they think we all have unlimited photography budgets, models, and time to do different modelled photos for every listing (including at the beach! LOL), photos of each of our different pieces in progress, photos of us working, & photos of each type of packaging. Needless to say, none of those things are bad if you have gobs of time or the money to pay someone to do all of that. But if you are like me and are a one-person business, live in a small condo, don’t have the strength to take photos all day, don’t have an abundance of people to model when I am taking photos (i.e., people I know have real jobs & aren’t around when I work on photos), and don’t have anyone to take photos of me making things, then this is pretty laughable. I wouldn't even consider doing all of this for my 5 best selling listings, never mind all 430+. YMMV. [The repeated mentions of process photos makes me worry they will be requiring those for everyone at some point …but I am sure I am just being paranoid.] One notable error was telling someone to use “color” (the US spelling) instead of “colour” (the proper English spelling) because the shop’s language settings were US English - Etsy currently treats these both the same, so there is no issue at the moment. Are they trying to give us a hint about something?

SEO: GOOGLE & OTHER SEARCH ENGINES

Introducing BERT: Google’s new technology to help organic search process natural language better. This isn’t likely a change you can optimize for, but it should help searchers get more relevant results for complicated queries. “Here is an example of Google showing a more relevant featured snippet for the query “Parking on a hill with no curb”. In the past, a query like this would confuse Google’s systems. Google said, “We placed too much importance on the word “curb” and ignored the word “no”, not understanding how critical that word was to appropriately responding to this query. So we’d return results for parking on a hill with a curb.” Moz’s Whiteborad Friday covered the basics. [warning - some bits are advanced. Just skip those if you need to.] A study said BERT still isn’t very good at understanding “not” and other negatives. The NY Times may be one of the sites that is affected.

If you were disappointed when keyword research tool Keywords Everywhere became a paid tool, a new alternative has been released. Note that Keyword Surfer is still in beta. I’m going to try it for a bit and write up a short report if I think it is worth using. (The traffic estimates are way off, as in almost 10 times too low, for the sites I have info on.)  If you try it, let me know what you think!

While we are on the topic, here’s 13 keyword research errors you don’t want to make. Short takeaways - not every high volume keyword phrase will work for your specific product, don't ignore long tail, and make sure you look at the search results for any keyword before you decide to use it.

Here’s another keyword and topic research tool that compiles questions people search along with a relationship tree so you can see how ideas are connected.

More common SEO problems with ecommerce sites.

If you code your own website, check out the new Google instructions on writing your organic search snippets. Note this is supposedly only about display & not about ranking.

Improve your Instagram traffic with 8 SEO tips for your profile and posts.

Which is better for SEO - Squarespace or WordPress? The results are likely skewed by the fact that “platforms like Wix and Squarespace tend to attract less SEO-savvy people than WordPress.” They agree with what I have been saying for a while: if you know what you're doing, Squarespace sites can rank just fine.

Excellent tips on how good SEO also helps you comply with US disability access laws.

The latest on Google updates - there was apparently one around November 7. This one may have hit affiliate websites more than other types.

The Wall Street Journal wrote an article claiming Google manipulated search results to favour its interests & those of its advertisers, including eBay. [The original article is behind a paywall; the link is in that news coverage.] However, many in the SEO community - most of whom are not usually reluctant to criticize Google when they are behaving poorly - feel the article is way off base, & demonstrates a fundamental lack of knowledge of how Google works. Barry Schwartz of Search Engine Land & Search Engine Roundtable even did interviews with t WSJ staff for the article, and was amazed at how much they got wrong. “Even a basic understanding of the difference between organic listings (the free search results) and the paid listings (the ads in the search results) eluded them…[Glenn] Gabe told us that not only were his conversations with the paper off-the-record but also that he was misquoted”

CONTENT MARKETING & SOCIAL MEDIA (includes blogging & emails)

Here’s something I don’t see discussed much: using templates (& other consistent branding) in your social media, blog and website posts.

Content hubs are a very useful way to increase your search engine traffic for a core topic while providing a landing page for social media, ads etc.

Good primer here for beginning social media marketing for your business. You’ll need to do more research depending on your target market and what platform/s you choose, but it is definitely a good overview of getting started.

If you think influencer marketing is right for your business, here are 10 places you can find influencers to work with.

Your email subject lines can change the open rates; here are 19 tips to make them more clickable.

Instagram started testing hiding “likes” on posts in the US as of November 11th, & then announced plans to try it out globally. A study on previous tests showed that there may be some effect on influencer engagement.

Facebook has introduced its own payment system, currently in the US only, for limited situations only at the moment.

Reddit is an often overlooked social media platform to use for business but the traffic is strong, so check out these tips on asking it work for your business. [infographic]

ONLINE ADVERTISING (SEARCH ENGINES, SOCIAL MEDIA, & OTHERS)

Pay for online ads (outside of Etsy) but don’t know what negative keywords are? Here’s how to use them with Google.

Hubspot continues their massive rush of “ultimate guides” with everything you wanted to know about Amazon ads.

Facebook now allows you to have different text in the same ads, which can be adjusted for different groups of users.

Amazon is predicted to continue cutting into Google’s online ad dominance through 2021; Google currently has 73% of money spent on online ads in the US.

If you are interested in long term brand building in your advertising, you might be interested in this article, where Adidas admits it was ignoring brand ads & pushing instant returns for too long.

Just in time for the holidays, Google Merchant Center rolled out a bunch of upgrades.

Buying TV ad time is losing popularity; it will be less than 25% of all advertising spend in just a few years, while digital spending is now over 50%.

STATS, DATA, OTHER TRACKING

Facebook changed how they count page impressions.

Everything you want to know about the Google Search Console. Oh, and also everything you want to know about the Google Search Console. Which one do you like best? [If you have your own website or freestanding blog and are not using the Console, you probably should be reading both of those. Seriously, just set the darn thing up, then learn how to use it later.]

Also, the Console now features a speed report, and has changed how they send you messages.

ECOMMERCE NEWS, IDEAS, TRENDS

Trend alert: many struggling or failed retailers sell clothing. “This sector is saturated with supply and is arguably over-stored.” … “For younger shoppers, as they choose which apparel brands do get their attention, sustainability and other cultural issues are often at the forefront.”

US sellers can now get discounted UPS rates through Shippo.

A bug is keeping suspended Amazon sellers from being reinstated.

BUSINESS & CONSUMER STUDIES, STATS & REPORTS; SOCIOLOGY & PSYCHOLOGY, CUSTOMER SERVICE

Don’t use these common customer service lines. ...“there are studies that support the use of positive language in customer service. Instead of focusing on what you can’t do for a customer, focus on what you can do. No one likes to be told no.”

Another article on the psychology of colour; beware that some of this is a bit simplistic, as there are always exceptions.

Holiday shopping will push further into December this year, with half starting around Cyber Monday (Dec. 2). 62% of “high spenders” (over $2100 spent on the holidays) will shop on their smart phones. 25% of respondents to this survey said they already started shopping in September. It turns out most people want gift cards, among other stats. Nearly half of US shoppers are more likely to shop with companies that are socially responsible. Mobile shopping is expected to beat desktop shopping for the first time this season. And yes, most Americans expect to add to their credit card debt before January, men more than women.

US retail sales fell 0.3% in September; online sales fell the same amount.  

MISCELLANEOUS (including humour)

Trend alert - apparently Generation Z is not big on makeup, and it is affecting large companies’ profits.

Google’s co-founders hand the parent company Alphabet over to the current CEO. They still work for Google and will focus most of their time there.

Google Webmaster spokesperson John Mueller tackles the controversial question - is a hot dog a sandwich? [humour]

[realtorallison-blog]

What Is My Winter Springs FL Home Value?

Are you planning to sell your Winter Springs FL home? Then you need to know how much your home is worth. Knowing the value of your home lets you evaluate what you can afford, determine whether a listing is appropriately priced, and decide how to price your own home when it’s time to sell it.

Why do you need to know the current market value of your Winter Springs FL home?

As a homeowner, you may know how much you paid for your property and how much your monthly mortgage is, but you may not know what its current market value is. You may think, if you still live in your home and intend to live there for the near future, then why would you care about its current market value?

Your home’s current market value is the amount it would likely sell for if it went on the market today. In short, it is the estimate of what buyers would be willing to pay for it at a specific point in time.

Like most homeowners, you may not know the importance of knowing your home’s current market value. If you are asking yourself, “does it matter?” The answer is yes, it does—for a whole host of reasons.

Here are some of the reasons why you need to know the current value of your Winter Springs FL home:

·        Property Tax

When assessing your property for property tax, it is the current market value of your home that you need to consider and not its value when you first bought it. If you undervalue your property, you might need to pay a fine in the future. If you overvalue it, you might need to pay an additional tax every year.

·         Insurance

Do not fall into the trap of using the original purchase price of your home when getting a quote for home insurance, as this will only lead to higher premiums. Instead, use its current market value.

·         Financial Planning

Knowing the current market value of your home will help you better assess your current net worth. If you know your home’s value, it will be easier for you to determine if you are in negative equity and if so, by how much.

Being able to assess your current net worth is extremely important as you make major life decisions like downsizing, trading up, upgrading, or selling your home.

·         Home Sale

This is one of the most obvious reasons to determine the current value of your Winter Springs FL home. When it is time to sell, you need to know the true market value of your property or you may have to deal with the consequences.

If you overprice your home, it may end up not selling quickly or worse, going stale in the market. If you underprice it, it will fail to give you the best return on your investment.

When it’s time to sell your home, talk to a professional like me so I can give you my expert opinion. I can help you know the current value of your property, so you’ll have less homework to do.

How do I find out what my Winter Springs FL home is worth?

If you want to determine your Winter Springs FL home value, there are many ways to do so. Basically, your house is worth whatever someone will pay for it. But if you want a long answer to your question then it depends on the market and whether you are asking a lender, an agent, or a county assessor.

Even if you are not yet selling your home, knowing how to calculate its value with the help of online tools and trained professionals is a huge advantage for you. Not only does it prepare you to buy, sell, refinance, and tap into your home’s equity, it also helps you negotiate lower property taxes.

Knowing the value of your home also gives you a better picture of your overall financial health. In the United States, for instance, nearly three quarters or 73% of the total population are convinced that one of the keys to determining their financial health is by knowing the value of their homes.

Here are some of the ways through which you can find the value of your home:

1.       By using online home evaluation tools

If you try to search “how much is my house worth?” you will find that there are lots of home value estimators available online. These tools, generally referred to as automated valuation models or AVMs, are usually offered by lenders or popular real estate sites like Zillow and Redfin.

AVMs use public records like property transfers, deeds of ownership, tax assessments, and some mathematical modeling in predicting home values based on recent sales and listing prices in your area. Most real estate sites have this AVM feature for marketing and lead generation purposes.

Because online evaluation tools are mostly made available for the sake of generating leads, they return a value for every property even when the data presented by the homeowner is limited. Because of this, online home evaluation tools are less accurate compared with other home evaluation means.

Meanwhile, the AVMs used by real estate professionals like us are different. Unlike the typical AVMs found on real estate websites, our tools use a confidence score to indicate how close the AVM provider thinks an estimate is to market value. If the tool yields a confidence score of 90%, then that means that the estimate given is within 10% of market value.

2.       By using a comparative market analysis

If you want to know your home value but don’t want to settle with online evaluation tools, you can ask me for a comparative market analysis. This may not be as detailed as a professional appraisal, but it offers my evaluation of your home and the market and provides an estimated value for your home. I can do this for you for little or no cost.

3.   By using the FHFA House Price Index Calculator

One of the quickest ways to get an estimate of what your home is worth if you don’t want to settle for AVMs is by using the Federal Housing Financing Agency’s (FHFA) house price index (HPI) calculator.

This more scientific approach makes use of the “repeat sales method” by tracking the change in the value of a house from one sale to the next. Through this, the tool estimates how values fluctuate in a given market.

While this calculator only looks at conforming home mortgages and is not adjusted seasonally or for inflation, it is still a reliable tool if you want an easy way to know how much your house may have appreciated over a certain period of time.

4.       By hiring a professional appraiser

Lenders usually require an appraisal before approving a mortgage. As a property owner, however, you can choose to hire an appraiser to estimate the value of your home at any time. In the U.S., about one-fourth of the population actually determine their home values through a professional appraiser.

Appraisers generally give a value based on your needs. That means that if you hire an appraiser, you may ask him to get the value of your home for a date in the past, or you may also ask for its current market value for refinancing and purchasing purposes.

Among the things that appraisers evaluate are the market, the property, and comparable properties. Not only do they look at the region, city and neighborhood in which your home is located, they also determine your home value based on the characteristics of your house, the land it sits on, as well as the sales, listings, vacancies, cost, depreciation, and other factors for similar houses in the same market.

Through the information that they gather, they are able to come up with a final opinion of value for the home and summarize it in an official report.

5.       By evaluating comparable properties

Generally, appraisals and AVMs rely on the recent sale value of comparable properties called “comps” when coming up with an estimated home value. In fact, more than half of the U.S. population determine the value of their homes by looking at properties that are similar to theirs.

The reason there is so much reliance on comps when it comes to determining home value is that this approach is the simplest. When you pull comps, you are able to determine market value without actually having to pay an appraiser. All you need to have is good judgment.

The catch, however, is that some homeowners tend to think that all properties sold next door are considered comps. That is not the case.

In choosing accurate comps, you need to use an “apples to apples” approach. This means you need to think about which properties would interest a buyer if your property were not available. You may look for comps by looking for homes with similar size, location, condition, and upgrades as yours.

Here are some tips to get started:

·         Look for a site with MLS listings

As you browse a site where you can find MLS listings, you will be able to find the recent sale prices of comparable houses in your neighborhood.

·         Look at listing prices

You may start looking at listing prices if you see that there are not enough recent sales. Remember, however, that they might not be that realistic

·         Look for at least three valid comps

If you want to know the likely range of market value for your house, look for at least three properties that are comparable to it.

Remember that things tend to get a little tricky once you have chosen comparable properties. After finding at least three comps, you need to adjust for differences between your house and the comps that you have found by either adding value to the comp price if it has more features than your house or subtracting value if its interior is not as updated as yours.

The amount you add or subtract also largely depends on your market conditions. If you want an easy way to know your home value based on comps, look at the highest and lowest comps. Most probably, your home value is somewhere in the middle of those two values.

What increases the value of my home?

If you are not satisfied with the estimated value you got for your home, there are many ways you can boost its value so you can sell it at a higher price. Here are some of the projects you can take on to increase your Winter Springs FL home value:

·         Come up with a remodeling plan

It doesn’t matter whether you just bought a house or you have lived there for a while. The fastest and easiest way to increase the value of your Winter Springs FL home is by coming up with a plan.

You are more likely to come up with better results if you do your upgrades intentionally and not on impulse. While a home improvement project may cost you a little, remember that about 75 to 80 percent of your total spending for upgrades go directly back into your home through increased value.

As you come up with your remodeling plan, start with a list of the things you want to change and the updates you want to make. Have a guess on how long you want to live in your house. If you are planning to sell it in the near future, talk to me and I will come up with a selling plan for you.

It is also important that you take the list and categorize by how much each of the items you’ve listed may cost you. Then, give it a fresh look and see which of them you need to prioritize.

·         Deal with one room at a time

One of the best ways to harness the energy that comes from your ideas and still be smart at the same time while taking on your home improvement project is by making the commitment to tackle one room at a time. This will make your project more achievable.

For instance, if you set out to paint your bedroom wall on Friday, make sure you complete the project that day so you can tackle a different room the next day. Through effective strategizing, you will be able to see your vision for each room take shape.

·         Never underestimate small improvements

The problem with most homeowners when they undertake home improvements is that they focus too much on big improvements while neglecting small improvements.  

Doing a little bit of big and small improvements really does pay off. Gone are the days when homeowners pick projects that don’t really make a difference. If you give importance to big and small improvements at the same time, it will be easier for you to see real progress when upgrading your home.

·         Go for a sparkly home

You can never underestimate the value of a clean home, especially if you want to boost its market value. If you are putting your Winter Springs FL home on the market, remember that nothing attracts buyers more than a bright and sparkly home.

As you clean your house, do several things at once by staying on top of maintenance issues and spotting potential problems. Don’t let your clutter build up so when it’s time to sell your Winter Springs FL home, you will feel confident about what you are presenting to your potential buyers.

·         Make your house look attractive and welcoming from the outside

If you want to boost the market value of your home, walk across the street, turn around and give it a fresh look. If you think it is not appealing enough, make a list of ways to enhance the positive and eliminate the negative.

Remember that when boosting the value of your home, curb appeal does count. Since it doesn’t stop at your property line, you may want to talk to your neighbors and ask them how they feel about your curb. Your home will become more valuable if you live in a place where everyone pays attention to appearance.

While determining your home’s value may be a bit complicated, I can make things easier for you. Whether you want to determine the current market value of your Winter Springs FL home or need help with boosting its value, feel free to call me at (407) 617-2881. I am Allison Day and I am your top real estate agent in Winter Springs FL.

In case you cannot view this video here, please click the link below to view What is My Winter Springs FL Home Value? on my YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XiZcfKT19jk&list=PLEfy6uLXhMd_c-qApFiS3RaVmf1bB8DFV&index=2&t=0s

[exo-trashbean]

In Honor of the Summer Ending

I heard some pretty wacky stuff while working at my summer job as an intern in an I.T. Department. Here is a some banter I recorded.

Sidenote - there are two Brians in my office (”Brian”, or “B″ is my boss, respectively, and “Other Brian″ is the jackass that stops over to roast me and the other intern), as well as two Dereks ("Derek " (”D”) is the other intern, and "Other Derek" is the one that sits a cube over -- all of the stuff he says is always heard from over the wall). [Also, when I refer to a “cube” it means a group cubicle with 4 people in it]

The chats/quotes separated by return spaces are all from different conversations, to clarify.

Enjoy!

"That is a lovely Shade of booger" "Try again" beep. beep. *beeps get more impatient* beepbeepbeep “Ok stOP-”

loud bang heard from across the department. “Are You having fun yet?” “Nope”

“I- I can’t” “What is it?” “A sandwich with no bread”

Clinking of change. “It’s crazy that there are 50 year-old quarters... just chillin”

“Think fast.” *Sound of can hitting the ground* *Deep sigh*

“I support equal robot rights”

Brian: *making whistle noises like bombs dropping whilst pelting interns w/root beer barrels*

Not exactly a quote, but I stand up to stretch in the morning and on the board in the cube next to me says “Cheese life! Go Cheese!”

[Testing workflow website for company] Wes: Just make sure when you comment something, you submit an attachment. It can be anything. Brian + me: Anything? *Wes nods* *Entire cube goes onto DevHumor for memes*

Ezra sneezes. Brian sneezes 2 seconds later, but with the Dad Sneeze™. Brian turns to me [2 hrs after learning what “boneless” means]: “See, his sneeze was boneless, mine was not.”

Brian: Do you know what the use of a GoTo() [Statement] is? *leans forward* THERE IS NONE Coworker walking by: GoTo the unemployment line Brian: If I find a GoTo() statement in your code, there is gonna be a coffee mug-shaped dent in your forehead

[Cube next to me after debugging] Other Derek: Thanks for solving the mystery Lucas. do you want to be part of the scooby doo club? Thomas: *offhandedly* The mystery gang? Lucas: What kind of snacks do you got? Other Derek: uh, combos- *Sound of footsteps fading away*

[Other Cube] “Is that jam?” “Yeah it’s Derek’s” “Do you want some? You can have some only if you eat all of it right now” “You’re nuts!” “No I have Jam”

Derek: We got state fair corn dogs and my brother eats like 2 or 3 for breakfast- Brian: He eats 3 corn dogs for breakfast?! Other Brian: My kinda guy

“I don’t eat things I can’t pronounce”

“Password is DonutsRgood”

“I’m trying to separate it into two columns [on ms word] but it keeps wrapping weird” “Then tell it you don’t want to listen to its music” “The exit door is right there Derek”

[Derek making checklist for supervisor on dry erase board] “NOT GARISH” written @ bottom Me: you know what you gotta do is *starts to point* Derek: YES DIFFERENT COLORS *grabs all the markers*

D: ah ye scallywag B: what D: nabbed me pen ye did B: Ah, ye see it looks a bit like mine D: it’s fine I already got another one B: arrr D: thief of the seas

Me: did you play clue or clue junior? Derek: uh... I have *giggles* no clue

Kathy, older woman that could kick anybody’s ass, total savage, etc. goes to open door - all I hear is a thud as she kicks it(?) and an “OW”: *Walking back to cubicle* “well I WAS having a good day”

“your positive attitude just sucks”

B: *Messes something up* Nergh [Unknown from other cube]: argh B: ugh

B: did you just call Dairy Queen unhealthy? D: Blasphemy. They have salads.

[Talking about hot pockets Brian made] me: why’d you put swiss cheese on it? B: swiss cheese has no lactose- D: does it at least have feet? because it lacks toes? Other Derek, from over the cube wall, before I can even sigh: Is that why swiss cheese has holes? B: oh so when HE makes the joke-

Other Derek: I need new friends. A guy I know is listening to a spotify playlist called “White Trash Bash”

[other cube mocking a caller that had a webpage problem] Zach: I REfrEsHEd Other Derek: you refreshed? I want a refresh *sound of repeated banging on keyboard* is it working?

D: it smells like pickles over here *gesturing to fridge* B: *goes over to fridge to inspect* That’s Wes’s Pickle (Referring to Wes’s lunch). *giggles* B: *turns to me and holds up 4 fingers* I’m this many.

Ezra: *Excitedly* I did a thing. There’s code! *waving arms at computer*

Nicole: [to Brian] “I’m supposed to ask if you could be any dog what you would be” Other Derek [from over the wall]: Hot dog. Say Hot Dog.

Ezra, who sits 5 whole feet away from me: *messages me over skype* “How are you holding up? :)”

“Do you know what day it is?” “No I wanna go to lunch, you guys stink” “do you know what day it is?” “... it’s hump day?”

[other cube after returning from lunch] Thomas: Yee, and I cannot stress this enough, HAW

B: don’t buy a house you can afford childless. *Very seriously* because childs happen. Me + Derek: childs happen??

Brian, my 46 y/o boss: *Opens 2 cheese sticks and sticks them in his mouth like a walrus*

[Cube over] “Could you sip your tea any louder man?” *sound of obnoxious tea sipping* *sound of choking on hot water*

“It’s not that you broke it, it’s that I had it not-fixed in the first place”

D:*cups hands over mouth to amplify sound* I WILL CONSUME YOUR DATA

5 minute conversation about pronunciation of “Worcestershire”

Aavery, the other intern besides Derek: “Teaspoons you use to stir tea. Table spoons you use to stir tables”

[talking about Spanish] B: I can order a cold beer, count to 10, and say “socks”. I can older a cold pair of socks!

Kathy: I can’t wait to retire so I can smoke weed.

[about testing] D: Aavery and Autumn did some testing for the help desk and broke a bunch of stuff [sidenote: breaking stuff is a good thing when it comes to testing] Me: I only broke like one thing, Aavery did the rest D: Well, one thing is... *trailing off* better than... none things...

Brian tells Derek to answer the phone if Mr. Duemann (one of the managers in the plant) calls. [Derek & I talking about how to answer the phone] D: *hewwo rp voice* Misteww Doowman, Bwian says to come heyuw :3

B: $1400 worth of cheese Me: jeez B: no, CHEESE

Derek, proudly after testing: There will no be bug. [yes, that’s typed correctly]

Other Derek, from over cube [talking to somebody else]: I knew it! you always smell like Jumbalaya B: WHAT

[backlog refinement, which is basically planning work stuff] B: we’re gonna have to give Autumn the password to the Service Account, and *turns to me* you’re gonna swear to use all your brain cells that day

“INventory stuf on servers” written as the title of a scheduled work task

[heard from across the office] “It’s NOT a dad joke, I thought it was cool!”

“The person that IS an alcoholic isn’t here today”

[free nacho day] Ezra: “if you taste each individual item you’re not using enough cheese”

[aliceslantern]

Beyond this Existence: Counterpoint, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 3

Summary:  After being recompleted, Ienzo vows to do everything in his power to atone for the atrocities he committed in the past. But this life hasn't been easy, and he's plagued with memories and nightmares. When Demyx suddenly reappears, the two discover that they have more in common than they thought, though the secrets in their past might tear them apart. Zemyx (Demyx/Ienzo), post kh3

Read it on FF.net/ on AO3

He spent another night half-awake, curled under the old covers of his bed. As much as Ienzo tried to rest, and calm himself, his mind would not stop whirring. He could not help but think about Demyx’s panic attack in relation to his own anxiety. To know he was not alone was a comfort, but a cold one, at that. Demyx did not shield his emotions or thoughts the way the others did, and while Zexion had found this grating, Ienzo did not. He was growing tired of the facades, he realized.

When dawn finally came he went through his usual routine of bathing and dressing, and sat to eat. Normally during his morning meals he tried to brush up on his studies, because the last frantic weeks of Zexion’s life in the castle had left him too busy drawing up tactics and manipulating Riku. He was actually reading a rather fascinating text on the neuroscience behind autism, and as Ienzo had long suspected he was on some part of the spectrum, it helped him understand himself better.

This morning was different. Instead, he checked the posts on the gummiphone. Originally he’d intended the photo posting program to focus as a way to share data and reconnaissance, but quickly it had been claimed by scenic photos, silly self-portraits, and inexplicably (though, he had to admit, compellingly) photos of food. There hadn’t been new posts in a long time, so he checked them.

Little Chef’s food. A picture of Xion and Naminé by the ocean in Destiny Islands. Terra and Ven sparring playfully. Aqua relaxing with a spellcasting book. (Ienzo did miss magic dearly.)

Sora, with a young woman with an incredible amount of blonde hair. Sora, posing with a lucky emblem. An unflattering photo of Donald. Goofy and Sora flexing their muscles with Hercules. Sora, with his arm around Kairi, and the caption, keybuddies! So proud of her for completing her training.

Looking at the posts was no longer so appealing. Ienzo again felt that ache in his chest, and found himself blinking a little too rapidly. This was grief, he realized, at least a shade of it. He hadn’t let himself fully process what Sora’s disappearance and Kairi’s death meant. He’d enjoyed helping Sora, and the others. And while they weren't friends, exactly, it was hard not to feel something about such a bright light being extinguished.

Aeleus entered the kitchen. “Ienzo,” he said by way of greeting.

Ienzo put his gummiphone away. “Aeleus. Good morning.”

He got himself some tea and sat across from Ienzo at the small table. “Things have settled in town,” Aeleus said.

Of all his bonds with the other apprentices, his relationship with Aeleus had perhaps changed the least. They’d remained close in the Organization, especially when Zexion was still small. Lexaeus had often accompanied him on missions, defending him before he was powerful and strong enough to go out on his own. “It has, hasn’t it?”

“We scarcely seem to need to keep a patrol. Nobody comes near. Heartless, neither.”

“Perhaps you can get on with your research.”

Aeleus shook his head. “My time with that has passed.”

“In a way, I envy you. But I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

“You’re resourceful. You’d find something.”

“...I suppose.” He traced the rim of his mug with a finger.

“Something is on your mind,” Aeleus said.

“Everyone keeps saying that,” Ienzo said. “I must be doing a poor job of controlling my expression. I couldn’t help but think of Sora. And his poor, poor friend Kairi.”

“Xehanort’s death had a price.”

“An incredibly expensive one,” Ienzo said sourly. “All this chaos for one man--and it’s not even over.”

“Such is the way, when you tie yourself so heavily to fate.”

“I don’t believe in fate,” Ienzo said. “I’m surprised you do.”

Aeleus shrugged. “After all I’ve seen? It’s hard not to believe.”

“...Things have come together a little too neatly,” Ienzo conceded. “That’s the power of the will. As Ansem would say.” He stood. “I need to go to the library before I continue my work. I’ll see you later, I’m sure.”

“Yes,” Aeleus said.

The various libraries in the castle had always been refuges for Ienzo, but the main library was especially of note, with the massive collections from other worlds, as well as ancient artifacts from Radiant Garden’s own history. Most seemed to have survived the fall, in their sturdy shadow cases. The chairs here were also the most comfortable, and this library had the most light. It seemed to be least hit by the overall decay of the castle, though everything needed a good cleaning. As he picked up titles he thought might be helpful, he wiped his dusty palms on his jacket, and it became quite dingy.

To his surprise, as he passed the history section on the way to the lab, he saw Demyx feverishly scanning the titles. “What is it you’re looking for in here?” he asked.

Demyx looked up suddenly, like he was coming out of a daydream. “I was trying to find something about the age of fairy tales. I want to know more about that time.”

Ienzo frowned. He’d figured that Demyx would have been after music theory or something cultural, not that. “That sort of thing is oral history,” he said. “There are very, very few printed volumes that survive from that time. Ansem may be a collector of rare books, but even he could never get his hands on something like that. Why is it you ask?” Ienzo himself knew very little aside from the old stories everyone had been told as a child. Of course he was aware that some of these legends had played into Xehanort’s plan, but if that were the case, why on earth was Demyx looking into it? His eyes were still very much teal, no trace of gold. Ienzo hadn’t had any reason to distrust him before now. He realized he didn’t want to be wary of Demyx.

He laughed a little. “I was just bored, is all. Wanted to know more about what I just got myself out of.”

He nodded. That much made sense. “It’s unfortunate, but a lot of history from that time is just… lost and shadowed in legend. Perhaps that’s why Xehanort was trying to recreate the Keyblade war. Perhaps he wanted to understand it for himself.”

“Maybe,” he said. He looked disappointed.

Ienzo shifted the books in his arms slightly. “Ansem might know more. He studied quite a bit of mythology when he began his experiments. I could ask him for you. I admit, I’ve never seen you become intellectually involved in anything.”

A hint of pink crept into his cheeks. “I just want to know.”

Ienzo frowned. “Are you quite alright?”

“Yeah. I mean, no. I’m just…” Demyx exhaled. “Trying to figure things out. And I have no idea where to start. I don’t even have my sitar. I don’t really have much of anything. And I’m not meant to be here.”

Ienzo blinked. He couldn’t help but feel a tad suspicious. “Not… meant…?”

“Face it. I’m just here because you are all too nice to get rid of me. None of you even like me. I don’t share a past with you, and I’m not a scientist.” An injured edge crept into Demyx’s voice, but Ienzo couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved. So that was the matter, not some… plan that got derailed. How paranoid of him to even think that.

“Do you really judge your own worth using others’ opinions?” He asked. He could recall--quite vividly--times he had overheard people telling Demyx off, the harshness of their voices. Zexion had occasionally been part of it too, though more subtly. His backhanded comments has always seemed to roll off of Demyx. There were too many to count, really. And considering Demyx’d also joined the Organization in his formative years, of course that was having an effect on his psyche.

He looked down. “Of course I do. How can you not?”

Ienzo couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. The feeling sat oddly in his breast. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you haven’t felt welcome.”

His eyes were glassy. He was more upset than Ienzo had thought. He didn’t know how to comfort him and started to feel nervous. It would not be good for one of them to be unstable. “I have nowhere else to go,” Demyx said, and then, evasively, “I didn’t mean to dump this on you.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” Ienzo said quickly.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to lie. I’m not your problem.” He tried to smile, and Ienzo could see how much energy it took. “I’ll let you get back to your work.”

Ienzo again watched him walk away, unable to find anything of value to say to fix it. He wanted so badly to be a good person, but how could he do so when he couldn’t even provide anyone else with the slightest comfort? He held his books still tighter. Maybe there was something he could do.

He did not go immediately to the lab. He went, instead, back to Ansem’s quarters and knocked.

“Come in,” Ansem said. He was at his writing desk, composing what seemed to be a letter. “Oh, hello, Ienzo. What is it you’ve got there?”

“Books irrelevant to the matter at hand,” he said. “Can you give me a general summary of what you know of the age of fairy tales?”

He set down his pen. “Of course I can, but why do you ask? Do you think this could help with Sora?”

“Perhaps, but also… well, Demyx asked me, and I became aware of the gaps in my own knowledge.” He set down the books he had and moved closer to Ansem. He was losing strength; even carrying those few volumes, his arms felt tight.

“I wonder why,” Ansem said, with an edge of suspicion.

“I was a little dubious too, but I do not think there’s anything uncouth about it. To be fair, Xehanort did rely heavily on legends.”

“Yes, that’s right. No doubt the resonances of being a vessel have left him shaken. I’m afraid I don’t have any texts, but I do have a few volumes of fairy tales themselves in the study. You’re free to take a look, but be careful with them. They’re quite old.”

“Yes, Master. I know. Thank you.”

“And let me know if you need my assistance in the lab. I’ve been catching up on my letter writing, but I could use a break.” He smiled kindly.

“Yes. Of course.”

The study was really just code for yet another library, albeit full of Ansem’s most heavily curated texts, as well as many of the ones he’d written himself. Ienzo scanned over the familiar titles until he found what he was looking for. The children’s books were bound in blue linen with a silver embossing, with clear plastic wrapping to protect them. He sat on the floor and scanned the pages. The memory came unbidden--

Sitting as a little boy in Ansem’s lap in the rocking chair by the window, listening to him read these very same stories in that low, soothing voice, feeling him gently stroke Ienzo’s hair and a sense of everything being alright in the world--

For a moment he had to shut the book and bit down hard on the emotion welling within him. There was no word for it other than bittersweet . He was grown now, and should not want childish things. He wanted Ansem’s respect again, to truly feel it. He wanted to feel as safe and, yes, as loved.

These thoughts are not productive.

He continued to scan through the volumes, but found nothing that satisfied him. They were all fictionalized parables, meant to teach lessons to children about being selfless and not trusting strangers. Nothing about the Keyblade war in these volumes. Was one missing?

Ienzo sighed and began replacing the books. A faint breeze caught a vein of dust, and he coughed, momentarily thrown off balance. It was only for this reason that he found himself looking at the now-empty bottom shelf. A sheaf of papers was lodged between the upper shelf and the bookcase’s back wall. Ienzo gently pulled the shelf forward, cursing his physical weakness. The sheaf fell with a faint crinkle. He pulled it out and hastily replaced the children’s books.

How peculiar.

The paper was clearly very, very old; the only reason it hadn’t deteriorated entirely was because it was a sort of linen hybrid. The text on the title page was not written in his language, but runes that predated the World’s current written alphabet. His breath caught on a little thrill of excitement. Possibly Ansem didn’t even know it was here; it could have been left by one of his predecessors.

This would obviously require translation. He wouldn’t be able to understand it now. Still, Ienzo could not help but crack open the first page, lifting it as delicately as possible.

There was text. A lot of it. But more than that there was music. Staff paper had been hand-penciled in, if the slight wobbles of the otherwise straight lines meant anything. Ienzo knew the gist of reading music--Ansem had taught it to him, aware of how it improved math skills--but this was beyond his comprehension. Notes cluttered the page, swooping in complicated trills.

There were more runes written under all this, functioning as a lyrical line. Ienzo had few characters fully memorized, but one pair caught his eye.

Keyblade.

Another little thrill of excitement went through him. How convenient--how coincidental--it was that the only person in this castle who wasn’t a scientist was a master musician.

He had an idea.

Demyx was in the kitchen, listlessly picking at a bowl of old soup.

Ienzo approached him. “There you are. I was hoping I’d see you around. I asked Ansem about the age of fairy tales. He doesn’t have any texts, but after some digging, I found this. He doesn’t know I took it from his library. He’s been… somewhat unobservant lately.”

Demyx looked at the papers, a puzzled expression on his face. “What is it?”

Despite himself, he was feeling real eagerness to discover what was in this project. It was rare, perhaps one of a kind. “I only saw the first page, so I’m not quite certain. Perhaps we may look at it together. Come to think of it, somebody should create some record of that time. We can’t repeat history a third time.”

“I smell a new project for you,” Demyx said. There was a guarded cautiousness to the way he spoke.

He sat down. “Yes. Perhaps. When I am done helping Ansem.”

“What is Ansem doing?”

Ienzo realized he was referring to the project as Ansem’s, even though it was his idea. He had to stop doing that. “He’s trying to help Sora.”

Demyx flinched a little. Ienzo remembered that it was Sora who took his Nobody down, and felt awkward. “What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s vanished. He overstretched his power… and disappeared from this world entirely. Ansem is hoping that something in our old research might help the guardians of light find him. I am not so sure. You can only meddle with the forces in this world so much before there are natural, irreversible consequences. The guardians are… naturally quite cut up about it. He and I had formed something of a rapport as well. As much as I wish for him to be whole… I don’t want to give myself false hope.”

Demyx seemed unsure of how to react. “Whoa.”

An understatement. “There’s never a moment wasted in researching,” Ienzo said. “For all I know, there’s some clue in these papers. And I think you can help me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Me? What happened to “I’ve never seen you intellectually interested in anything?””

Now that he was hearing it out loud, he realized that Demyx had heard that phrase as an insult, and he felt bad. Maybe this would make it up to him. “Have a look.” He pushed the score towards him and opened the first age. “While my scientific education has been excellent, admittedly it is somewhat lacking in the arts. I only have the most basic skills when it comes to music theory. This… seems more up your alley.”

Demyx’s eyes widened a little. He touched the papers gently, almost with a sort of reverence. Ienzo noticed with relief that the fear in his eyes had subsided a little. He gestured to the lyrical line.

“They’re ancient runes. I’ve studied them a little. But I recognize the characters for “Keyblade”, and they’re in there,” Ienzo explained.

Demyx kept reading. There was an intensity, a focus in his gaze that Ienzo had never seen before.

“I need an instrument,” he said. “It’s too complex to sing.”

“There’s an old piano in Ansem’s quarters. We can have Aeleus and Dilan move it to an empty study space. I’m sure it’ll need tuning.”

“I can do that.” He nodded, a small smile growing on his face. “I’m in.”

Ienzo couldn’t help but smile back.