Fic: ISS Misandry
Title: ISS Misandry (AO3)
Author: katiemariie
Fandom(s): Star Trek: TOS
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Mirror!Elaan/Mirror!T'Pring
Rating: R, for hand porn and mild nipple play
Word Count: 760
Warnings: major character death (not Elaan or T'Pring)
Summary: Wherein Elaan (from "Elaan of Troyius") and T'Pring (from "Amok Time") are femme fatales out to seize control of the ISS Enterprise.
“A most ingenious plan,” the woman says, walking not around or over but on top of the rapidly cooling corpses in the doorway.
T'Pring puts down her padd, raising her phaser at the intruding stranger. “I thought as much.”
“Having them kill each other-” T'Pring can hear several bones in her late betrothed's hand crack under the woman's heel. “That was quite... logical.”
“I believe the human expression is 'killing two birds with one stone.'”
“I'm not human.”
“Then what are you?”
Closer now, she slaps her hands on T'Pring's desk. “The captain's woman.”
“This is a precarious time for you then.” Wither her free hand, T'Pring runs the tips of her fingers up the backs of the stranger's hand, stopping at the wrist, gripping it tightly. The stranger denies T'Pring the pained whimper that this action typically elicits. “I am willing to allow you to maintain your position-after a brief demonstration of your credentials, of course.”
The erstwhile captain's woman smiles, leaning over the desk. “You really knew nothing of this ship before you seized control.”
“I knew that Spock was first officer and nearing his Time.” T'Pring inclines her head towards the two bodies. “That appears to have been enough.”
“To take command, but not to keep it.”
“You appear to be implying that you are invaluable in ensuring crew loyalty. Is that a correct assumption?”
The woman snorts. “Loyalty? Any common jhiy with her legs uncrossed can earn loyalty from men. What I offer is more rare, more powerful.”
“What would that be?”
“Complete submission. From every man serving on this ship and every man that we meet in our journeys.”
T'Pring arches an eyebrow. “That is an impressive offering. How do you plan to fulfill it?”
“You're a clever woman; you've no doubt heard the power of Elasian tears.”
“Of course. One tear drop from an Elasian woman has the power to bring a man to his knees. Yet, was the entire population of Elas not destroyed following their refusal to grant the Terran Empire dilithium mining rights?”
“Elaan, Dohlman of Elas was spared. Captain Kirk,” she utters the name disdainfully, “took a souvenir before issuing the demolition order.” She laughs bitterly. “That was the last command decision he made of his own free will.”
T'Pring releases the Dohlman's wrist as she leans back in her chair, keeping her phaser locked on target. “The woman behind the throne.”
“Kirk did whatever I said, and if any crewmen disagreed with his orders, I would handle them.”
“Complete submission.”
“Absolute authority,” Elaan counters.
“If such a feat was so easily achievable for you,” T'Pring starts, standing from her chair, “then why the pretense? Why be the captain's woman when you could be captain?”
“Because no one tries to assassinate the captain's woman.”
Ah. It seems an Elasian has beaten a Vulcan at her own game. The ancestral urge for power above all us (even self-preservation) may still burn through T'Pring's blood, waiting to be chilled. She takes a small breath. “It seems that the continuation of your duties would be of mutual benefit.”
Elaan looks down at the phaser in T'Pring's hand. “Then it's a deal.”
T'Pring sets her sidearm on the desk. “It is.”
Elaan places a cool palm on T'Pring's right hand, still feverishly hot from holding the phaser. A welcome sensation, like dipping into an oasis' pool during a long journey. T'Pring lets her hand be guided upward along Elaan's chest, feeling the slow heart beat under a warm breast, over her throat, knowing it to be a show of trust (T'Pring could snap her windpipe with a curl of her fingers), and finally onto soft lips. Elaan flicks her tongue over T'Pring's fingertips before drawing her middle and forefinger into her mouth.
T'Pring stifles a moan. “You are well-taught.” Elaan hums around her fingers. “I think you will find I am just as studied.” T'Pring's free hand cups Elaan's best, circling the nipple with a lazy finger. Elaan's breath hitches in her throat. “I am conversant in a variety of methods of pleasure-” She pinches Elaan's nippled, twisting the flesh slightly. “-and pain.”
Elaan whimpers softly, letting the fingers fall from her mouth. Regaining her composure, she smiles at T'Pring defiantly. “Are you familiar with the ancient Earth custom called spanking?”
T'Pring allows her lips to quirk minutely-a Vulcan half-smile. She doubts that together they will have any trouble generating enough tears (of pleasure, of pain, of frustration, of relief) to rule this starship and perhaps even the empire itself.
Clever mate.
Author: katiemariie
Fandom(s): Star Trek: TOS
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Mirror!Elaan/Mirror!T'Pring
Rating: R, for hand porn and mild nipple play
Word Count: 760
Warnings: major character death (not Elaan or T'Pring)
Summary: Wherein Elaan (from "Elaan of Troyius") and T'Pring (from "Amok Time") are femme fatales out to seize control of the ISS Enterprise.
“A most ingenious plan,” the woman says, walking not around or over but on top of the rapidly cooling corpses in the doorway.
T'Pring puts down her padd, raising her phaser at the intruding stranger. “I thought as much.”
“Having them kill each other-” T'Pring can hear several bones in her late betrothed's hand crack under the woman's heel. “That was quite... logical.”
“I believe the human expression is 'killing two birds with one stone.'”
“I'm not human.”
“Then what are you?”
Closer now, she slaps her hands on T'Pring's desk. “The captain's woman.”
“This is a precarious time for you then.” Wither her free hand, T'Pring runs the tips of her fingers up the backs of the stranger's hand, stopping at the wrist, gripping it tightly. The stranger denies T'Pring the pained whimper that this action typically elicits. “I am willing to allow you to maintain your position-after a brief demonstration of your credentials, of course.”
The erstwhile captain's woman smiles, leaning over the desk. “You really knew nothing of this ship before you seized control.”
“I knew that Spock was first officer and nearing his Time.” T'Pring inclines her head towards the two bodies. “That appears to have been enough.”
“To take command, but not to keep it.”
“You appear to be implying that you are invaluable in ensuring crew loyalty. Is that a correct assumption?”
The woman snorts. “Loyalty? Any common jhiy with her legs uncrossed can earn loyalty from men. What I offer is more rare, more powerful.”
“What would that be?”
“Complete submission. From every man serving on this ship and every man that we meet in our journeys.”
T'Pring arches an eyebrow. “That is an impressive offering. How do you plan to fulfill it?”
“You're a clever woman; you've no doubt heard the power of Elasian tears.”
“Of course. One tear drop from an Elasian woman has the power to bring a man to his knees. Yet, was the entire population of Elas not destroyed following their refusal to grant the Terran Empire dilithium mining rights?”
“Elaan, Dohlman of Elas was spared. Captain Kirk,” she utters the name disdainfully, “took a souvenir before issuing the demolition order.” She laughs bitterly. “That was the last command decision he made of his own free will.”
T'Pring releases the Dohlman's wrist as she leans back in her chair, keeping her phaser locked on target. “The woman behind the throne.”
“Kirk did whatever I said, and if any crewmen disagreed with his orders, I would handle them.”
“Complete submission.”
“Absolute authority,” Elaan counters.
“If such a feat was so easily achievable for you,” T'Pring starts, standing from her chair, “then why the pretense? Why be the captain's woman when you could be captain?”
“Because no one tries to assassinate the captain's woman.”
Ah. It seems an Elasian has beaten a Vulcan at her own game. The ancestral urge for power above all us (even self-preservation) may still burn through T'Pring's blood, waiting to be chilled. She takes a small breath. “It seems that the continuation of your duties would be of mutual benefit.”
Elaan looks down at the phaser in T'Pring's hand. “Then it's a deal.”
T'Pring sets her sidearm on the desk. “It is.”
Elaan places a cool palm on T'Pring's right hand, still feverishly hot from holding the phaser. A welcome sensation, like dipping into an oasis' pool during a long journey. T'Pring lets her hand be guided upward along Elaan's chest, feeling the slow heart beat under a warm breast, over her throat, knowing it to be a show of trust (T'Pring could snap her windpipe with a curl of her fingers), and finally onto soft lips. Elaan flicks her tongue over T'Pring's fingertips before drawing her middle and forefinger into her mouth.
T'Pring stifles a moan. “You are well-taught.” Elaan hums around her fingers. “I think you will find I am just as studied.” T'Pring's free hand cups Elaan's best, circling the nipple with a lazy finger. Elaan's breath hitches in her throat. “I am conversant in a variety of methods of pleasure-” She pinches Elaan's nippled, twisting the flesh slightly. “-and pain.”
Elaan whimpers softly, letting the fingers fall from her mouth. Regaining her composure, she smiles at T'Pring defiantly. “Are you familiar with the ancient Earth custom called spanking?”
T'Pring allows her lips to quirk minutely-a Vulcan half-smile. She doubts that together they will have any trouble generating enough tears (of pleasure, of pain, of frustration, of relief) to rule this starship and perhaps even the empire itself.
Clever mate.