(no subject)
i'm writing a story. i asked my husband's opinion, and he said that while i write well, there is definitely a gap between what i do and the sellable stuff. argh. yikes. stab to the heart. so!
i actually feel the same. and while he's often my harshest critic- the stuff i've written and gave an easy eight while others thought the same, he rated a six. okay. his is my standard to break through and shoot above.
yeah. easier said than done.
right. let's try it anyway. i read a prompt somewhere and one thing led to another and... well.
Title: Starships and Starstuff
Author: theturnipshead
Pairing: eventual Uhura/Kirk
Rated: R?
Summary: Detailing the Enterprise’s first five-year mission, dramatic events faced and shifting relationships within the crew. Follows reboot canon.
"The molecules of your body are the same molecules that make up this station, and the nebula outside- that burn inside the stars themselves. We are starstuff, we are the universe, made manifest, trying to figure itself out. "
- Ambassador Delenn, Babylon 5
Year 1
In Three-Quarter Time, Part 1
A little over half a year into their mission and the greater part of the Enterprise's crew was experiencing varying degrees of homesickness. "It's not really home I'm missing," one Ensign could be heard lamenting, "It's the air, the dirt beneath my feet. Butterflies and dogs and green. Anything but ship and ship and look! More ship."
Captain James T. Kirk paused his long stride down the ship's corridor to look in the direction the comment had come from. Dr. Leonard McCoy tugged on his arm to get him moving again. "It's to be expected Jim, typical of voyages such as this. The crew naturally experiences multiple stages while settling in the first year on board. It'll all pan out eventually."
The captain didn't turn to look at his friend. Instead he frowned as he watched the naysayer disappear around a corner. "You're one to talk," Jim replied. He was less than satisfied but resumed walking, "You hate space travel."
It was to be expected, really. The crew's first assignment following the Nero Incident had been simple enough. They had been part of a convoy of ships detailed with the escort of Vulcan refugees and supplies to the New Vulcan colony. The Enterprise was not a carrier vessel by any means, but it was understood that the flagship's involvement during this time would be well appreciated.
Jim had been more than happy to obey this directive. On several occasions he had heard Lt. Uhura and Commander Spock discussing the numerous artifacts and knowledge lost and the collective effort it would take to amass even a percentage of it again. He had watched her offer silent comfort to the half-Vulcan and had been keen to give his own in any way he could.
The following months had been nowhere near as satisfying.
The Enterprise had been tasked with the painful ordeal of shoring up support throughout friendly and allied planetary governments. With the annihilation of seven of its starships and their respective crews at the Battle of Vulcan, the Federation had suffered massive losses. While scrambling to maintain its high standard of operation despite heavy casualties, they had also needed to show a strong front to allies and enemies alike.
Star Fleet was undergoing major damage control. Which meant a great deal of ceremony and no real action for the Federation's flagship.
It had set Jim's teeth on edge and he had systematically charmed, coerced, cajoled, and conned his and his crew's way out of as many social events as possible. They had somehow still found themselves up to their eyeballs in tedious bureaucratic pageantry; the Enterprise had not once in the first six months of its voyage been able to follow its primary objective of exploration. No wonder the crew was getting antsy; their Captain was as well. Fortunately, this next assignment would mark the last before they began their true mission.
McCoy led the way, his friend following at a much slower pace. Leonard glanced behind him, "Pick up the pace, Captain," he spouted in mocking tones.
Jim glared. "Bones," he began through gritted teeth, "I understand that this is important, but is it really necessary for you to walk me there?" McCoy smirked. "You know and I know that if left to yourself you'll put this off 'til kingdom come. Unfortunately, we only have two weeks. Yes, I had to escort you." The doctor seemed to take not-so-secretive delight in the ordeal awaiting his captain and friend. "Besides, the Commander ordered me to." Jim snorted. "Since when do you jump to when Spock orders?" Bones didn't take the bait. "Oh, there have been a few occasions." "Yeah. Whenever you think it'll get a rise out of me."
McCoy smiled benignly. "Let's just call it payback for all the crappy bars you dragged me to over the years and for every time you lied, feeding me that old worn out line- hell, I can finally say it back to ya, 'It'll be fun!'"
Once they reached their destination, Bones slapped him on the back with a cheerful, "I'll leave you to it!" Jim glared at his retreating form, uttering spiteful invectives his now ex-best friend merrily ignored. The captain took a deep breath and entered his first officer's quarters.
"I hate this," he stated by way of greeting.
Spock stood in the center of the room, the most open space, hands lightly clasped behind his back. "I am aware of your feelings on the matter Captain, as I have listened to your objections on the subject for some time now." Jim frowned at him as he strode further into the room. "A waltz, Spock. Can you believe it? Who waltzes these days?" "The Celadorans have long held the practice of-" "Aw, blow it up your ole' whazoo." Spock's eyebrow lifted. "I am unfamiliar with that particular phrase, Captain." Jim growled.
"Spock, I don't want to." "Yes, Captain." "It's archaic." Yes, Captain." "And a waste of time." "I disagree. As the waltz is the primary symbol of peaceful relations on this planet, we cannot ignore its importance or the negative effects your lack of cooperation would have on our efforts for a successful end to discussions." Kirk let out a frustrated sigh. "Why couldn't Chapel help me again?"
"I believe Doctor McCoy's exact wording was 'If that boy thinks I'm letting him near one of my brightest and best in an intimate setting such as that, he can-'" "Yes, thank you, Mr. Spock. I think I get the general idea." Spock carefully considered his commanding officer before stepping forward. "There are exactly two point one four Earth weeks before we reach our destination. You must be proficient before the start of official proceedings."
Jim's eyes narrowed. He got the feeling he was being laughed at. Spock's stoic expression did not change.
The half-Vulcan cocked his head inquiringly. "Shall we begin?"
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thirty minutes before his shift, Jim made his way through the dining hall towards the far back tables. The Enterprise would reach the planet's orbit in the next hour and the senior crew members would need to be present on bridge.
While passing where his Commander and Communications Officer sat, he noticed Uhura held a PADD in front of her. He paused by their table. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a bit of a workaholic, Lieutenant?" "Yes," she stated, never looking away from her PADD, "underachievers have often told me that." "Well, since I outrank you, maybe you could listen to my opinion," he said cheerfully. She continued her reading.
He hadn't noticed at first but the hand not occupied by her PADD was hidden from view beneath the table. So was the hand nearest her belonging to the half-Vulcan at her side. Neither party seemed to as much as acknowledge the other in any way; if he hadn't been paying attention he would have missed it. The captain's bright eyes hooded over for a brief moment. When he looked up his mouth held a wide grin. He inclined his head slightly before continuing into the hall without further comment. Uhura finally raised her head, brow knitted in mild confusion as she watched him walk away. Spock murmured something, shifting his body weight minutely towards her. Immediately she turned her attention to him, easily putting aside all previous thoughts of her captain.
Jim made his way across the hall where Helmsman Hikaru Sulu and Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott sat eating and laughing. "So I told the lad, 'dinna touch anotha' thing until ah geht back.' He looked as if he might cry. Well, I felt behd! But wha' else couldha do? He was liable t'blow th' whole ship ta smithereens!" Sulu's shoulders shook in silent laughter as Jim took the seat beside him and drawled, "What happened, Scotty? You terrorizing the reds?" Scotty looked deeply affronted. "Ahm the one bein' terrorized, more like! Demmed babes in th' woods, the lot of 'em. Don't ken th' difference b'tween a Bussard ramscoop and a blow torch. Ensign Ricky tries so hard his face turns red as a cherry and he still canna doo it. Wha' ahmah supposed t'do? Ahm no' ah babysitter!" On catching his breath, Sulu tried to soothe the Scotsman's ire. "Well, think on this, Scotty. I made a newbie mistake that just happened to keep us out of the attack by Nero long enough for the Captain here to warn us. If we had gone in straight away, we'd have been goners. The moral of the story? Newbie mistakes can be windfalls in disguise."
"Eez thet how yoo choos to wecall ewents, Sulu? I do not wemember you being quite so optimeestic at ze time." Grinning, Pavel Chekov, Ship's Navigator, set his plate down next to the still aggravated-looking engineer.
The friendly banter continued until the subject changed to eating habits and formality. "A great man once said 'status cannot exist without clothes,'" Jim began, "I tend to stretch that thought to when one eats as well, since nobody really looks dignified while they're masticating. Well, with the exception of the Commander. And possibly Lieutenant Uhura."
They shared smirks and chuckles. "Wha' aboot formal functions, then?" Scotty probed.
"I eat large meals before going to formal diplomatic functions." The Scotsman looked mildly horrified at the idea of not eating food when it was readily available. Jim went on to explain himself, "No time to let my guard down at a place like that. Besides, Bones has a hissy fit if I turn out to be allergic." A loud snort came from the other end of the table. They all turned to see McCoy standing with an empty tray. Having gotten to his seat much earlier than the rest, he'd finished before any of them. By the captain's satisfied expression he must have known the older man had been there.
Bones gave his best friend a one-fingered salute, discarded his leavings and exited the hall.
The rest of the table members watched him go. "Is he always like that?" Sulu asked, equal parts admiration and dismay evident in his tone. Jim laughed. "Yep. Bones is The Man."
"Bridge to Captain Kirk." Jim unconsciously straightened. "Kirk here." "We are approaching the planet's orbit. The Celadorans have opened communications."
"I'm on my way," Jim stood. "Well, gentlemen, duty calls." On his way out he noticed Spock and Uhura had already gone ahead.
Scotty scrambled to shove the remainder of his third sandwich into his mouth before following the captain and the rest of the bridge crew out.
A/N: The start may be considered slightly AU for the Enterprise's involvement with the Vulcan Colony.
i actually feel the same. and while he's often my harshest critic- the stuff i've written and gave an easy eight while others thought the same, he rated a six. okay. his is my standard to break through and shoot above.
yeah. easier said than done.
right. let's try it anyway. i read a prompt somewhere and one thing led to another and... well.
Title: Starships and Starstuff
Author: theturnipshead
Pairing: eventual Uhura/Kirk
Rated: R?
Summary: Detailing the Enterprise’s first five-year mission, dramatic events faced and shifting relationships within the crew. Follows reboot canon.
"The molecules of your body are the same molecules that make up this station, and the nebula outside- that burn inside the stars themselves. We are starstuff, we are the universe, made manifest, trying to figure itself out. "
- Ambassador Delenn, Babylon 5
Year 1
In Three-Quarter Time, Part 1
A little over half a year into their mission and the greater part of the Enterprise's crew was experiencing varying degrees of homesickness. "It's not really home I'm missing," one Ensign could be heard lamenting, "It's the air, the dirt beneath my feet. Butterflies and dogs and green. Anything but ship and ship and look! More ship."
Captain James T. Kirk paused his long stride down the ship's corridor to look in the direction the comment had come from. Dr. Leonard McCoy tugged on his arm to get him moving again. "It's to be expected Jim, typical of voyages such as this. The crew naturally experiences multiple stages while settling in the first year on board. It'll all pan out eventually."
The captain didn't turn to look at his friend. Instead he frowned as he watched the naysayer disappear around a corner. "You're one to talk," Jim replied. He was less than satisfied but resumed walking, "You hate space travel."
It was to be expected, really. The crew's first assignment following the Nero Incident had been simple enough. They had been part of a convoy of ships detailed with the escort of Vulcan refugees and supplies to the New Vulcan colony. The Enterprise was not a carrier vessel by any means, but it was understood that the flagship's involvement during this time would be well appreciated.
Jim had been more than happy to obey this directive. On several occasions he had heard Lt. Uhura and Commander Spock discussing the numerous artifacts and knowledge lost and the collective effort it would take to amass even a percentage of it again. He had watched her offer silent comfort to the half-Vulcan and had been keen to give his own in any way he could.
The following months had been nowhere near as satisfying.
The Enterprise had been tasked with the painful ordeal of shoring up support throughout friendly and allied planetary governments. With the annihilation of seven of its starships and their respective crews at the Battle of Vulcan, the Federation had suffered massive losses. While scrambling to maintain its high standard of operation despite heavy casualties, they had also needed to show a strong front to allies and enemies alike.
Star Fleet was undergoing major damage control. Which meant a great deal of ceremony and no real action for the Federation's flagship.
It had set Jim's teeth on edge and he had systematically charmed, coerced, cajoled, and conned his and his crew's way out of as many social events as possible. They had somehow still found themselves up to their eyeballs in tedious bureaucratic pageantry; the Enterprise had not once in the first six months of its voyage been able to follow its primary objective of exploration. No wonder the crew was getting antsy; their Captain was as well. Fortunately, this next assignment would mark the last before they began their true mission.
McCoy led the way, his friend following at a much slower pace. Leonard glanced behind him, "Pick up the pace, Captain," he spouted in mocking tones.
Jim glared. "Bones," he began through gritted teeth, "I understand that this is important, but is it really necessary for you to walk me there?" McCoy smirked. "You know and I know that if left to yourself you'll put this off 'til kingdom come. Unfortunately, we only have two weeks. Yes, I had to escort you." The doctor seemed to take not-so-secretive delight in the ordeal awaiting his captain and friend. "Besides, the Commander ordered me to." Jim snorted. "Since when do you jump to when Spock orders?" Bones didn't take the bait. "Oh, there have been a few occasions." "Yeah. Whenever you think it'll get a rise out of me."
McCoy smiled benignly. "Let's just call it payback for all the crappy bars you dragged me to over the years and for every time you lied, feeding me that old worn out line- hell, I can finally say it back to ya, 'It'll be fun!'"
Once they reached their destination, Bones slapped him on the back with a cheerful, "I'll leave you to it!" Jim glared at his retreating form, uttering spiteful invectives his now ex-best friend merrily ignored. The captain took a deep breath and entered his first officer's quarters.
"I hate this," he stated by way of greeting.
Spock stood in the center of the room, the most open space, hands lightly clasped behind his back. "I am aware of your feelings on the matter Captain, as I have listened to your objections on the subject for some time now." Jim frowned at him as he strode further into the room. "A waltz, Spock. Can you believe it? Who waltzes these days?" "The Celadorans have long held the practice of-" "Aw, blow it up your ole' whazoo." Spock's eyebrow lifted. "I am unfamiliar with that particular phrase, Captain." Jim growled.
"Spock, I don't want to." "Yes, Captain." "It's archaic." Yes, Captain." "And a waste of time." "I disagree. As the waltz is the primary symbol of peaceful relations on this planet, we cannot ignore its importance or the negative effects your lack of cooperation would have on our efforts for a successful end to discussions." Kirk let out a frustrated sigh. "Why couldn't Chapel help me again?"
"I believe Doctor McCoy's exact wording was 'If that boy thinks I'm letting him near one of my brightest and best in an intimate setting such as that, he can-'" "Yes, thank you, Mr. Spock. I think I get the general idea." Spock carefully considered his commanding officer before stepping forward. "There are exactly two point one four Earth weeks before we reach our destination. You must be proficient before the start of official proceedings."
Jim's eyes narrowed. He got the feeling he was being laughed at. Spock's stoic expression did not change.
The half-Vulcan cocked his head inquiringly. "Shall we begin?"
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thirty minutes before his shift, Jim made his way through the dining hall towards the far back tables. The Enterprise would reach the planet's orbit in the next hour and the senior crew members would need to be present on bridge.
While passing where his Commander and Communications Officer sat, he noticed Uhura held a PADD in front of her. He paused by their table. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a bit of a workaholic, Lieutenant?" "Yes," she stated, never looking away from her PADD, "underachievers have often told me that." "Well, since I outrank you, maybe you could listen to my opinion," he said cheerfully. She continued her reading.
He hadn't noticed at first but the hand not occupied by her PADD was hidden from view beneath the table. So was the hand nearest her belonging to the half-Vulcan at her side. Neither party seemed to as much as acknowledge the other in any way; if he hadn't been paying attention he would have missed it. The captain's bright eyes hooded over for a brief moment. When he looked up his mouth held a wide grin. He inclined his head slightly before continuing into the hall without further comment. Uhura finally raised her head, brow knitted in mild confusion as she watched him walk away. Spock murmured something, shifting his body weight minutely towards her. Immediately she turned her attention to him, easily putting aside all previous thoughts of her captain.
Jim made his way across the hall where Helmsman Hikaru Sulu and Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott sat eating and laughing. "So I told the lad, 'dinna touch anotha' thing until ah geht back.' He looked as if he might cry. Well, I felt behd! But wha' else couldha do? He was liable t'blow th' whole ship ta smithereens!" Sulu's shoulders shook in silent laughter as Jim took the seat beside him and drawled, "What happened, Scotty? You terrorizing the reds?" Scotty looked deeply affronted. "Ahm the one bein' terrorized, more like! Demmed babes in th' woods, the lot of 'em. Don't ken th' difference b'tween a Bussard ramscoop and a blow torch. Ensign Ricky tries so hard his face turns red as a cherry and he still canna doo it. Wha' ahmah supposed t'do? Ahm no' ah babysitter!" On catching his breath, Sulu tried to soothe the Scotsman's ire. "Well, think on this, Scotty. I made a newbie mistake that just happened to keep us out of the attack by Nero long enough for the Captain here to warn us. If we had gone in straight away, we'd have been goners. The moral of the story? Newbie mistakes can be windfalls in disguise."
"Eez thet how yoo choos to wecall ewents, Sulu? I do not wemember you being quite so optimeestic at ze time." Grinning, Pavel Chekov, Ship's Navigator, set his plate down next to the still aggravated-looking engineer.
The friendly banter continued until the subject changed to eating habits and formality. "A great man once said 'status cannot exist without clothes,'" Jim began, "I tend to stretch that thought to when one eats as well, since nobody really looks dignified while they're masticating. Well, with the exception of the Commander. And possibly Lieutenant Uhura."
They shared smirks and chuckles. "Wha' aboot formal functions, then?" Scotty probed.
"I eat large meals before going to formal diplomatic functions." The Scotsman looked mildly horrified at the idea of not eating food when it was readily available. Jim went on to explain himself, "No time to let my guard down at a place like that. Besides, Bones has a hissy fit if I turn out to be allergic." A loud snort came from the other end of the table. They all turned to see McCoy standing with an empty tray. Having gotten to his seat much earlier than the rest, he'd finished before any of them. By the captain's satisfied expression he must have known the older man had been there.
Bones gave his best friend a one-fingered salute, discarded his leavings and exited the hall.
The rest of the table members watched him go. "Is he always like that?" Sulu asked, equal parts admiration and dismay evident in his tone. Jim laughed. "Yep. Bones is The Man."
"Bridge to Captain Kirk." Jim unconsciously straightened. "Kirk here." "We are approaching the planet's orbit. The Celadorans have opened communications."
"I'm on my way," Jim stood. "Well, gentlemen, duty calls." On his way out he noticed Spock and Uhura had already gone ahead.
Scotty scrambled to shove the remainder of his third sandwich into his mouth before following the captain and the rest of the bridge crew out.
A/N: The start may be considered slightly AU for the Enterprise's involvement with the Vulcan Colony.