Sunday, May 20, 2012

Your Enemy is Dead Part II

Your Enemy is Dead
Chapter II                                                                                                                           

When Janice Rand woke up in sickbay, she groaned.  This was, bar none, the last place in the universe she wanted to be.  Rand flinched from the oppressive ebb of pain in her head.  She placed her forearm across her eyes to shield them from the sharp, intrusive white light emanating from the ceiling.  Rand took a deep breath in an attempt to breath out the pain.  She did this a number of times, coupling these breaths with thoughts of colorful meadows and tweeting birds under a blue sky.  Nothing.

“Well, so much for positive goddamn thinking,” she thought.  Her stomach wasn’t twisting anymore, though, and the creeping bile in her throat was gone. 

“At least I won’t upchuck when I try to get out of here,” she thought.

Frankly, Rand didn’t give a rat’s ass if her head was still pounding, she was determined to  leave sickbay.  Traditional, high tech medicine wasn’t an option for a woman who was raised on alternative therapies, thank you very much.  Rand threw off the covers to her assigned bed and propped herself up by her elbows when she felt something on her shoulder, holding her firm and still.

“Not planning on leaving us, are you?”  asked Nurse Chapel in a voice feigning mock insult.

“Oh, Shit,” thought Rand.  “It’s resident pain in the ass in light blue!”  She looked up at Chapel, a faint smile of little warmth on her lips. 

“Get that hand off of me, or I’ll break it, starting at your wrist!”

Chapel looked down at Rand without making any attempt to release her grip. 

“In your condition, dear,” began Chapel rather blithely, “you couldn’t block a head-on pocketbook from a little old lady.” 

Chapel pushed Rand back down onto the mattress and threw the covers back over her, tucking them in tightly underneath the bed like a straitjacket.

“Jesus,” yelled Rand struggling under the covers.  “Are you trying to pin me down, or something?”

Chapel stopped in the middle of tucking the covers and leaned into Rand, so that her face was only inches away from her uncooperative patient. 

“If you prefer, I can use the bed straps that we normally reserve for our more unstable clients,” said Chapel with a curt smile.  She finished fixing the covers by giving them one more hard yank, making Rand yelp.

“Client?” asked Rand incredulously.  “That’s a hot one!  Do you give discount prices on lobotomies?”

Just then, Dr.McCoy walked in, his cantankerous manner evident as he pulled a chair and stationed himself next to Rand’s bed.

“Maybe we should strap her down if she insists on being her usual difficult self,” said Dr.McCoy gruffly.

Rand turned to McCoy and eyed him narrowly.  “You know, McCoy, I really don’t need this crap from either one of you.  Can’t you ease up on your ever so charming bedside manner, just this once?” asked Rand, her emphasis on the word ‘charming’ sarcastic and biting.

“I don’t have a problem,” said McCoy while he prepared a hypo for Rand. “But, you apparently do.  I heard you argued with that new engineer about him bringing you here.  From what I’ve heard about Orion men, I’m surprised he didn’t flatten you.”

Rand took a look at the hypo in McCoy’s hands and leaned away while the doctor tried to administer it in her arm.  Nurse Chapel, on seeing this, gripped Rand’s ribcage and pushed her back into the good doctor’s hypo.

“Ouch, that hurt,” Rand said, whining like a child.

“No, it didn’t!” Chapel said in an exasperated tone.

McCoy shook his head and blew out a breath, clearly annoyed.  “You know you threw up on that poor young lieutenant when he brought you into sickbay,” he said, disassembling the offending hypo needle.  “He had to go back to his quarters to change into a fresh uniform.”

Rand shrugged her shoulders and snorted.  “That’s probably why my stomach feels a hellava lot better,” she thought to herself dismissively.

Dr.McCoy picked up a microlight, and tucked his hand under Rand’s chin.  “Look at me,” he ordered.

McCoy purposefully aimed the light into Rand’s eyes, rotating it up, down, sideways and point blank into the irises and pupils.  By the time the doctor was finished with her eyes, Rand felt like she’d been slapped around by a searchlight.  She blinked her eyes rapidly while patterns of white balls danced around her.

“Look, I see fairies,” quipped Rand, waving her hands in circles. 

McCoy ignored Rand’s joke while he packed his instruments away.  “You were a mess, lady.  That Jersey girl basket-weave hairdo of yours was so skewed to the side that it looked like the Leaning Tower of Pisa,” he quipped back.

Chapel covered her hand with her mouth and laughed.  Rand felt her cheeks flash hotly,  as she turned in Chapel’s direction and shot her a hostile look.

“Covering you mouth so your fangs don’t show?” shot Rand.

“At least I didn’t vomit all over that beautiful man,” said Chapel while she struggled to put a stop to her laughter, not that she tried very hard.  “He seemed to be genuinely concerned for you, God knows why.  You gave him a very hard time.  Talk about poor first impressions, dear.”  Chapel was leaning into Rand during this time, her tone teasing.
Then, she straightened herself up from Rand’s bedside and crossed her arms, a taunting little smirk on her glossed lips.

Suddenly, Chapel’s demeanor seemed to change.  Her arms uncrossed as she looked in the direction of the ward’s entrance, the smirk that was on her face melting into a beaming smile. 

“Why, Hello, son,” greeted Dr.McCoy.  Rand wondered what in the hell it was that put these two in a sincerely pleasant disposition.  She turned her head towards the entrance and saw a large figure standing there.  It was the young Orion officer, in a fresh new uniform, no doubt.

“Hi, everyone!” He said cheerfully in his distinctively deep voice.  “How’s our patient?” 
While his question was aimed at the Doctor, his eyes were planted squarely on Rand.

Chapel walked over to the Orion and stood next to him.  “I’m afraid our patient’s been a little difficult up to this point,” she said coyly, giving Rand a look of disapproval, all in fun for the sake of the young visitor.

Rand rolled her eyes and snorted at Chapel’s sorry attempt at feminine charm.  “You’re not getting into those jock straps, Toots,” she thought to herself.

The Orion placed his hands on his narrow hips, raising a brow.  “Oh, that’s not too good.  Maybe I can bring her up to good spirits,” he mused.

McCoy got up from his spot, packing up his medical tools and placing them in a silver tray.

“We’re finished here, Lieutenant.  Why don’t you sit down,” said McCoy, pulling out the bedside chair for the young man.

Before McCoy left, he turned to Rand, who was sitting glumly in her bed, her arms crossed and her jaw set.  “Maybe this time, you won’t give this nice young man a hard time,” he said.

McCoy smiled at the Orion while he motioned to Nurse Chapel to come with him, effectively leaving Rand alone with the young lieutenant.  Rand’s eyes were set on the Orion as he sat himself down on the bedside chair.  She was keenly aware of how uncomfortable he was by the way he swayed nervously in the seat.

The Orion gave Rand a tight-lipped smile and nodded his head. His violet eyes traveled to the ceiling, and then to the corners of the ward.  Rand wondered to herself just how much longer she’d have to endure this awkward silence.  What was it about hospital visits that inspired such discomfort.

Finally, the Orion leaned forward from his chair and said,”You’re pissed at me for bringing you here, aren’t you?”

Rand cocked her head to the side and snorted.  “No Shit, Sherlock!  Between being stuck in this place and dealing with McCoy and Chapel, you’ve condemned me!”

The Orion at first said nothing, observing Rand silently from where he was.  Then, he laughed softly.  It was a deep, robust laugh that Rand found she rather liked.  She started to laugh along with the Orion, in spite of herself.

In her newly relaxed state, Rand was able, for the first time, to really take in the physical attributes of this young man.

While she and Chapel have never seen eye to eye on much of anything, Rand was able to see, clear and away, what Chapel meant when she used the word beautiful to describe this alien man.  He had strong, prominent features that were chiseled into his emerald skin.  His large violet eyes were framed by long lashes, which were the same blue- black color as his thick upswept brows.  He had a strong, straight nose and high cheekbones that connected to a strong jaw line.  His lips were wide, full, and evenly proportioned.  He had a long, muscular neck that was both graceful and powerful that stretched from broad sinuous shoulders reminiscent of past figures like Atlas, or Achilles.  As the young man laughed, Rand saw that his grin was generous and boyish, quite uncharacteristic for his otherwise fierce appearance.  The teeth in his mouth were strong, white, and perfectly aligned.

“Yep, Christine’s use of the word beautiful is dead on,” Rand thought to herself.

Their laughter subsided, and the young Orion gave Rand a mischievous grin.  His earlier shyness and hesitation were gone when he addressed her again.

“Well, Janice Rand, Yeoman to the Captain of the Enterprise.  I was not going to let you go back to work in your condition.  What kind of person would I be if I did that?  Besides, the captain could get his own damn coffee and cinnamon buns.”

“Now, wait a minute, I am his yeoman, whatever your name is.  That’s one of the things that people like me do,” said Rand defensively.

“Yeah, maybe back on your planet in the 1950’s, but you’re a Starfleet yeoman.  You’re in charge of recording every mission and every discovery conducted by a Starfleet crew.  You’re the keeper of Federation history, Janice, not a glorified office secretary.  Get real.  Oh, and my name is Khobran,” said the young Orion, placing his hand on his powerful chest.

“Khobran.  Like the snake cobra?” 

Khobran smiled.  “That’s right.  Lt.Khobran, Engineer of the USS Enterprise, and one of Scotty’s right-hand men,” he said proudly.  “And, Scotty doesn’t send any of his right-hand women out to get him a cup of coffee,” he mocked playfully while he reached over and squeezed Rand’s hand.

Rand smiled, feeling blood rush to her face.  Up to this point, Rand had never thought of any alien man as being physically desirable, as witness to her utter befuddlement of Chapel’s attraction to Spock.  That was something she simply couldn’t wrap her Jersey girl sensibilities around.  Khobran, however, was something that she could wrap her sensibilities around.  Looking at him was a pleasure.  Talking to him was a pleasure too.

“Look, Khobran.  I know what you mean.  I really don’t mind getting food for the captain, even if it’s not in the job description, so to speak,” she said forming quotes with the fingers of her free hand.  “Besides, I could do a lot worse.  I could be Dr.McCoy’s yeoman,
scampering around like Frankenstein’s Eigor.  Oh, I’m sorry.  That’s Chapel’s job.”

They both broke into laughter, oblivious to some of the heads that turned their way. 

When the laughter finally subsided, Rand and Khobran simply looked at each other.  The silence was awkward, but with a sweetness to it that was not lost to Rand.  Khobran never let go of Rand’s hand since taking it in his. 

“I wonder if he notices,” thought Rand.

Khobran straightened himself up and took a deep breath.  “Well,” he said smiling at Rand.  “I better leave you here to rest.  I’ve got to get back to engineering.  Scotty awaits.”

There was something that passed between the two of them that was similar to past moments she had shared with Captain Kirk, but this moment was much more true and vivid.  One could even say fearless, because unlike Kirk, Khobran never turned away from Rand’s gaze.  He never once lowered his head in order to cough into his fist, nor did he cut his eyes away, dismissing her.

“Take care, Janice.  I’ll see you soon?”  Khobran asked hopefully.

Rand smiled, and nodded her head. “Of course, Khobran,” she said softly.

Khobran gave Rand a final squeeze of her hand, got up, turned to the door, and walked out of sickbay.  Rand, a female doctor, and a nurse followed him with longing eyes as his figure disappeared among the passing crowd in the ship’s corridors.  Rand looked at the hand that Khobran had held during much of the visit.  She could still feel his warmth, the bigness of his palms and fingers seemingly leaving an imprint on her skin.  She truly did hope that the next time Khobran came to visit, it would be very soon indeed.

Though she’d never admit it out loud.

Janice Rand twisted and turned in her bed in sickbay.  Granted, she was feeling a lot better; both her headache and stomachache were gone, but man, did she want to be discharged.  She wasn’t even tired.  Rand sat up and grabbed her pillow from behind her, hitting it and punching it in a fruitless attempt to fall asleep.  The evening was dragging   with heavy footsteps, and Rand felt like she’d been in this place for an eternity.  She plopped back down on the bed, stretched out her arms, and stared up at the ceiling.

“Janice.”  She shot up in her bed, startled by the bodiless voice that was coming from the corner of the ward.  A large figure blocked the doorway to the ward, the outside light from behind outlining it softly.  Rand was pleasantly surprised when she saw who it was.

“Khobran, What are you doing back here?  You were just here this afternoon.”

She watched Khobran  come over and kick the bedside chair away.  He sat down on Rand’s bed and leaned into her, propping his muscular arms to either side of her body.

“You know,” started Khobran tilting his head to the side.  “Since I left you this afternoon, there was one thing that I couldn’t get out of my mind.”  He had a faint smile on his lips that had a roguish nature to it.

“What’s that?” asked Rand, keenly aware of his arching arms around her.  Khobran’s faint smile grew larger while his violet eyes swept over Rand’s body.

“I wanted to see if you were blond all over,” he said, peeling away the bed covers and tossing them to the side.

At first, Rand was a tad insulted.  After all, no one has artificially altered themselves on Earth for generations.  However, she got over the insult quickly when Khobran reached over to Rand’s side and started untying the knots of her shapeless hospital gown.  He did this slowly, almost like a striptease.  Rand felt her breath quicken, her cheeks flushing hot under the anticipation while Khobran undid the last knot of the gown.  Rand trembled as she lied down and spread her body with abandon, her legs open and her breast jutted forward. 

Khobran peeled open Rand’s hospital gown.  Rand arched her back while her naked body eagerly received the large hands, which explored her shamelessly.

“Are you all right, honey?”

Rand opened her eyes.  Khobran was gone, and her light blue hospital gown was on her body, its tie-on strings fully knotted on the side.  Nurse Chapel stood at the foot of Rand’s bed and folded her arms over her chest, a mocking smirk on her face.   As Rand lay thrashed on her bed, her eyes blinked back to the reality in front of her.

“What?”  asked Rand incredulously.

“I asked if you were all right?” said Chapel, pursing her lips.

Rand reached over quickly and pulled the covers over her body and up to her neck.  She could feel herself shrink under the covers.

“I’m fine,” Rand said warily.

Chapel shrugged her shoulders.  “Oh, I was just wondering,” she said blithely with a wave of her hand.  “It kind of looked like you were doing a little shimmy in the bed,” said Chapel, breaking into a hip-wiggle.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Rand, her gaze narrowed and her voice sharpened on this irritating woman. 

Chapel raised her hands up in the air, as if in surrender.  “Let me know if you need anything, dear,” said Chapel, turning to walk away.

“How about a discharge?” shot back Rand.

Chapel threw back her head and laughed as she sauntered into the next ward.

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Your Enemy is Dead Part I

Title: Your Enemy is Dead
Author: ProvidenceMine
Fandom: Star Trek
Series: TOS
Parts: 1/9
Rating: [NC-17] for sexual content
Codes: R/m, K, U, Mc, Ch, Sc
Archiving: Yes, please
Summary: Janice Rand meets someone new and learns to move on from her affections towards Captain Kirk.
Disclaimer: Paramount Pictures owns all of Star Trek and its characters.  This is simply fan fiction, and I don’t expect to profit from this or any story that I write from hereafter.
Notes: The Orion Syndicate, and the seducing powers of Orion women, appeared on the television show Enterprise. 

Your Enemy is Dead    Chapter I

In the small corner room of Captain Kirk’s quarters, Yeoman Janice Rand sat at her desk sorting through the captain’s logs.  She checked every recording disk meticulously, as she labeled, filed, and stacked them to Starfleet’s specifications.  While Rand was finishing up with the tedious work, the door to the captain’s quarters opened. 

Rand looked up, both relieved and excited.  She was relieved because she had literally just finished with her work, and was secretly satisfied with herself of that fact.  She was excited because the captain had arrived.  Very excited indeed. Rand patted her hairdo and brushed her finger to her glossed lips in a last-minute attempt to catch Kirk’s eye.

 “Here he comes,” said Rand under her breath.  Her heart pounding wildly under her uniform, she dutifully sprang up from her chair and stood to attention, like a girl scout.

Captain Kirk entered, clearly preoccupied as he glanced around his quarters unfocused and disinterested.  Rand looked at Kirk with affectionate eyes as she attempted to greet him.

 “Yeoman,” Kirk spoke brusquely, cutting her off.  “Are the ship’s Manifests from last month finally in order?”  His emphasis on the word ‘finally’ stung Rand, knocking her out of the reverie she enjoyed just a few moments ago.

 “Uh, yes sir,” she stammered.  She reached for the recording wafers and held them in her hands.  “I have them right here.  All in alphabetical order, sir.  You’ll see that I checked…”

 “What about the logs on the mission to Banal II?”   The captain was clearly on a roll, prattling off orders like they were running off an assembly line.  Rand felt like she was standing on the end of that line, barely able to keep up with the demand.
“Well, I haven’t started on those yet, sir.  You told me to focus on the logs that I’ve just finished…” 

“The logs to the Banal II Mission must be done Yeoman, that’s an order.”

The whole time that Captain Kirk was talking to her, he never once looked her way.  Clearly, he found the corners of his quarters much more appealing in his present mindset.  The captain continued to drone out orders while he walked over to his desk and sat down.  Without turning to face her, he raised his finger as if to remind himself of something.

“Oh, I’ve noticed that you’re running out of recording wafers.  You might want to go down to pick up a new supply,” he said as he switched on his computer.

 Rand stood in her spot, feeling dejected.  “ I’ll get on that right away, sir,” Rand said sheepishly.

 “Get on that now--the sooner, the better.  In the meantime, the Manifests.”

Kirk held out his hand, his palm outstretched.  Rand looked down at the Manifests she held in her hands, and for a brief moment, had a fantasy about telling the captain where he could stick his Manifests.  Instead, she dutifully walked over to the captain and placed the wafers in his hand.  During this exchange, their fingers brushed together ever so delicately.  This was the first time this morning, since Kirk entered his quarters, that he looked up at Rand.  Their eyes met for a fleeting, awkward, tender moment.  But then, Kirk suddenly turned his eyes away and buried his mouth in his fist, clearing his throat as he turned back to his computer.  That little glow that was trying to make a comeback in Rand’s chest had died out like a petering candle flame.  Rand felt like she’d been slapped in the face, as she turned and headed for the door.

“Oh, Yeoman, one more thing,” said Kirk, focused on his computer screen again.  “I could really use a pot of coffee, and two of those incredible cinnamon rolls they have in the galley.  I’d really appreciate it.” 

Kirk’s voice trailed off while he busied himself with his work.  Rand shook her head as she walked through the sliding doors, her brain reeling from the list of orders rattled off to her by the captain.  When the doors closed behind her, she turned to them and performed a half-hearted, deriding salute. 

“And a good fucking morning to you too, sir,” she sneered before turning on her heels and starting down the hall.

Rand carried her tray with a fresh pot of coffee, a mug, and two cinnamon buns over to the supply room--which was mercifully just a few doors down from the small eatery she’d just left.  “Thank God for small favors,” she thought.  When she reached the storage room she almost ran into Yeoman Toms, who served in the Medical Records Department of the Enterprise.

“Whoa, Janice!” He exclaimed with both arms in the air.  Rand was able to pull back in time, her tray balanced expertly between her nimble hands.  

 “Oh, shit! The last thing I need! I’d have to run back to get another damn pot of coffee,” she complained.

“You don’t seem too happy,” Toms chuckled as he maneuvered out of Rand’s way.

  “It’s not that, so much,” sighed Rand, shrugging her shoulders.

  “Oh, it’s not what?” 

 “You know, it’s just the same old ‘do this, get that, oh, and don’t forget to clip my toenails,” Rand said, exasperated.

  She shook her head.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

  “I didn’t think you were,” assured Toms with a wave of his hand.

  “If you want something to complain about, try dealing with Dr.McCoy’s bitching all day.”

  Rand nodded her head, pursing her lips.  “You got a point there, Kiddo.  I’d rather be dismissed and ignored then be pursued and chomped on.”

 They both laughed, a tinge of sarcasm laced in their mirth.  “Hang in there, Jan,” mused Yeoman Toms.

He waved Goodbye, tucking a supply of padd batteries under his arm before making his exit.  Rand chuckled as she entered the supply room.

Rand snorted when she saw the sign in front of her that screamed with large white letters imbedded in a black background; NO FOOD OR BEVERAGES ALLOWED!  Walking past the batteries, the padds, the various glues and cleaning fluids, she spotted the recording wafers, which were set up neatly in rows.  Rand reached for a box, placed it on the tray, turned to leave, thought better of it, turned back to get three more boxes, and then headed towards the door. 

“Just in case,” she thought.  “We’ll have enough of these so that Sir Kirk will have a while before suggesting that I might want to stock up on some more.”

  Placing the last box on her tray, she promptly headed for the door, but it wouldn’t slide open for her. 

“That’s peculiar.” Rand thought.  She proceeded to push the side button to the door. 


 “What the fuck? Am I stuck here?”

 A mix of annoyance and panic plagued her patience as Rand put the tray down and pushed the button again.  And again.  And again--almost slamming the button with the side of her fist.

It opened, though rather sluggishly.  Throwing her hands up in the air and imitating a chorus of angels singing, Rand picked up her tray and briskly headed towards the door again.

The door shut in her face, yet again.

 “Oh, come on,” yelled Rand, stomping her foot in frustration.  Then suddenly, without any warning, the supply room tilted sharply.

Rand reeled along, knocking against the supply shelves and careening backwards while the pot of coffee tipped and flew open.  The scolding liquid escaped from the container as it reached Rand’s face and chest, searing her pores like a legion of needles.  Blinded, Rand tumbled over and fell against a shelf, banging the back of her head.  The turbulence literally pinned her down against the corner of the storage room.  Rand opened her mouth to scream, unable to hear it against the commotion of supplies that flew, darted, and bounced around her.  She shook with the force of the turbulence, while the bile from below her stomach started to rise. 

“Please, Janice!  Whatever you do, don’t throw up,” she thought to herself while she felt the burning of her throat rise up precipitously.  Then, just as sudden as it began, the commotion stopped.  A dead quiet took over the room as Rand sat in the corner, burned, shaken, and nauseous, her face and chest tender from the hot coffee that had assaulted her.  The ship was still.  The chaos was over.  Or, so she hoped.  Rand tried to get up, but between the vertigo in her head and the twisting bile in her stomach, her efforts were futile.

From behind the malfunctioning door, voices cut though the deafening silence.  At first, Rand couldn’t hear them clearly, but they sounded like two men.  She craned her neck, trying to hear what they were saying, but a splitting pain sliced through her head, causing her to recoil.  Both of Rand’s hands were pressed against her temples as she curled herself back in the corner.

 “I thought I heard someone scream,” one of the voices had said.

“I heard it too! It came from the supply room!”

 Rand looked up, her knees drawn underneath her, her palms closed around her temples.

“Please, get me outta here!” she bellowed with what little strength she could out of herself.

The door jiggled sideways, making a clicking sound with each sluggish movement.

“It’s not opening.  Give me the screwdriver.”

There was more clicking while the door jiggled and thumped fruitlessly.  Rand looked on, wondering if she’d ever get out of this god-forsaken room. 

“Damn!  The door’s jammed,” said one of the voices from behind the door.

 “No Shit, Sherlock,” Rand thought to herself.

“I’ll have to push it open.”

“Think you can do it?”

 “Of course I can,” said the first voice, matter-of-factly.

 Rand couldn’t believe what she’d heard. 

“What is he, Superman?” she snickered.  “I really don’t care what he is, as long as he can get me the fuck out of here!”

 The door creaked as it opened slightly.  Then, a single hand gripped itself onto the edge of the door, and pushed it back into its slit with one solid heave. 

“Oh, my God!  Not even Spock could do that with one hand!  Who is this guy?”  Rand thought to herself with wonder.

The young man released his grip from the door and looked around, shaking his head when he observed the mess on the supply room floor.  He sighed a deep breath before looking up and spotting Rand cowering in the corner.  Rand responded to the stranger by pressing herself against the wall.  The young officer stepped over the mess, heading towards her with an outstretched hand. 

“Ma’am, are you all right?”  His voice, deep and resonate, expressed concern. 

While this man inched closer, Rand could feel herself pressing even harder against the wall behind her, frightened a bit by the imposing figure coming closer to her.  His steps were strident, but also hesitant, as if sensing her fear. 

“ I can see you’re startled.  Please, don’t be afraid of me.  As you can plainly see, I’m one of you.”

 Rand could clearly see that he was one of them, this man who was strong enough to open a door with one hand; a door that would normally take around four men to dislodge.

The young man wore the red uniform shirt of an engineering officer of the Enterprise, the bottoms of his sleeves each embroidered with a single gold ring, indicating lieutenant rank.  He was easily one of the tallest men in the crew, his powerful physique molding the fabric without appearing too tight.  His blue-black hair even sported the neat trim cut worn by many male members of the crew.  But for Rand, it wasn’t the height, or the physique that made her wary of this young officer.

It was the color of his skin.

The young engineering officer’s skin color was green, the mark of an individual whose origins were rooted in the distant planet of Orion.

 “An Orion in Starfleet?  Since when?” thought Rand.

 Orion was not a member planet of the Federation, and it had a notorious reputation for playing both sides of the fence in political matters--like a double agent.

Rand looked up from her vantage point at this striking figure, now standing right over her.  Her head was foggy and light, like it would float up and carry her away from where she sat.  The young man lowered his imposing body into a crouching position, so that he was just a little over eye level to Rand.  He leaned towards her, placing a large hand on the side of her upper arm. 

“Ma’am, are you all right?  Do you have any injuries?”  the Orion asked her gently as he
 peered directly into Rand’s eyes.

  His violet eyes were alert and quick, darting around and probing into her, as if searching for some sign of life.  Rand sat there, waiting and watching while this stranger looked deeply into her eyes.  His eyes were alien in their ungodly shade, and disconcerting in their intensity.  Strangely, though, there was a gentleness to them that Rand couldn’t quite understand.  She felt as if she should have been fearful, but she wasn’t.

 “Ma’am did you suffer any injuries?”  The young Orion moved his head sideways, observing Rand.  “I see your face appears red, particularly around the eye area.”

When Rand finally spoke it was with difficulty, as she fought to swallow down the bile that continued to work its way up her throat.  “Coffee splashed on my face, and I fell on the back of my head real hard,” said Rand in a feeble voice.

 “Lean your head forward, please,” the Orion said softly.

 Gently, he placed his hands behind Rand’s shoulders and rested her head on his broad chest.  “Now, hold still,” he said.

 Gingerly, his large fingers tunneled their way through blond hair to the injured area, the upper back portion of the head.

 “Oh, yeah.  I can feel it right here.  It’s a pretty nasty bump that you have.  It must be tender.”  Rand nodded in the affirmative, saying yes.

“For someone who isn’t a doctor, this guy sure has a good bedside manner,” she thought.  “Maybe Dr.McCoy could pick up some pointers.” 

The Orion’s voice, while strong and resonant, had a soothing affect upon Rand that made her feel at ease.  His body heat radiated and enveloped Rand as he eased his fingers out of her hair, tucked them under her chin, and tilted her head. 

  “The swelling on your face looks like it’s gotten worse.  Exactly what were you doing,
 bringing beverages into the supply room?  That’s a total no no,” he said, wagging a finger at her mockingly.

 Rand laughed, albeit tightly, her face still very tender from the hot coffee. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made you laugh,” the Orion said.

 His hands were large, but he worked delicately on Rand while he checked for further injuries.  Rand found the Orion’s touch soothing like his voice, maybe a little too soothing as she reached over and placed her hand on his right upper arm.  The bicep underneath the Orion’s sleeve was well-defined, hard and round under Rand’s slender fingers.  “Oh, my God,” she thought startled, but not displeased.  Rand looked up at the Orion’s young face when a crashing sound was heard. 


 The Orion turned away from Rand without removing himself from her.

 “What happened?  Are you all right, Pennebaker?”

 Lt.Pennebaker’s voice conveyed more annoyance than injury.  “Yeah, man.  I think I slipped on something,” he said, helping himself up.

  Pennebaker rubbed his elbow as he looked around at the floor.  “It’s a goddamn pastry.  Who was the idiot who brought a pastry here?  The sign forbidding food is as plain as day!  God,” snorted Pennebaker, throwing his arms in the direction of the sign.

  “I was the idiot, you jerk!”  exclaimed Rand, insulted and a bit embarrassed.

  Indeed, she had chosen to ignore the sign, which was, indeed, as plain as day.  Pennebaker smirked and shook his head while he continued to survey the mess.

 His eyebrows cocked up as his finger pointed along a wet brownish trail. “There’s coffee on the floor too!”  Pennebaker looked up at Rand again.

 “What?  Were you having a Continental breakfast here or something?”  he asked with a note of snide humor.  The Orion got up from his spot and stood, facing the other lieutenant. 

“Hey, Pennebaker.  Cut it out, will you?  You’ve seemed to have recovered.  Do me a favor and contact sickbay.  Tell them I have a woman here with facial burns and a possible concussion, Okay?”

 “Yeah, man,” said Pennebaker, slapping the arm of the Orion amicably before heading out of the room.

“Sickbay,” Rand thought as she continued to fight through the fogginess in her head.  Images of pills, shots and bed straps came at her, and she didn’t much like it.  “Absolutely not!” Rand bellowed.

 The Orion man turned to Rand, his brows raised.  “Excuse me?” he asked.

 “I’m not going to sickbay.  I’m fine,” said Rand, crossing her arms.

  She wanted to look more steady than she really felt, anything to avoid going to sickbay.  Besides, as far as she was concerned, she wasn’t that bad off.

 As the Orion looked steadily at Rand, he crouched back down in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders.  “Ma’am,” he spoke slowly, trying to reason with her.  “You really need to be under the care of medical…” 

“Stop calling me ma’am, will ya?” Rand snapped, interrupting the Orion in mid sentence.  “Do I look like a little old lady to you?”

A sudden smile curled up on the Orion’s lips as he released Rand’s shoulders, and shifted himself on to his buttocks.  He cocked his head to the side, his violet eyes sweeping over Rand in a way that made her feel self-conscious. 

“Even in this sorry state I find you in, I don’t believe that anyone on this starship would ever mistake you for a little old lady,” the Orion said, his voice low and flirtatious.

 He lowered his head, biting his lip ever so slightly.  “What’s your name?” he asked softly.


 “Your name,” he asked with more emphasis.  “What is it, since you don’t approve of the use of ma’am.”

  “I’m Janice Rand, Yeoman to the Captain of the Enterprise,” she bragged, her head still spinning.

 The Orion humored Rand, clearly enjoying himself.  “Well, Janice Rand, Yeoman to the Captain of the Enterprise, I believe that you should stay right here and wait for the medics to take you to sickbay.”

 Rand grew angrier at this man.  “This guy’s a big green pain in the ass,” she thought to herself.  “Look, buddy,” she leveled at the Orion.  “I’m fine!  All I need to do is freshen up in my quarters and return to work!  The captain is waiting for me!”

 The Orion arched his brow.  “Waiting?” he asked.

  Rand squirmed under his suggestive gaze, his tone slightly mocking her.

  “Look,” Rand began.  “All I need to do is to go to my quarters, splash some water on my face, and I’m good to go!”

  The Orion sighed and shook his head, then leaned into Rand, placing a large hand on her upper arm.

  “Janice, listen to me. The whole time I’ve been here with you, your eyes have been glazed, your head’s been swaying on its neck, and you’ve been fighting the urge to throw up…”

 “Don’t touch me, I’m leaving!”  said Rand curtly, shoving the Orion’s hand away from her.

 The Orion’s voice was firm now, a little ice lacing in it as he took Rand by the arm and held her in her place.  “You’re not going anywhere but sickbay.  If I have to sit on you, I’ll do just that!  You’re clearly in no condition to go anywhere.”

Rand tried to pull away from the Orion, but his grip was iron.  Panic rose in her while she proceeded to punch him in the chest, like a petulant child.

 “Get off of me!”  shrieked Rand.

  The Orion held Rand easily by her arm, unmoved by her futile blows.  “Is that the best you can do?” he taunted as he leaned in, as if daring her to hit harder.

  Rand answered by digging her nails into his bracing hand, and while he didn’t seem to be in pain, he looked nevertheless annoyed.

 “Where the hell are the goddamn medics,” he snarled, looking toward the supply room door.

 This struggle went on for a while until the Orion took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and released Rand. 

“No,” he said simply.  “I’m not going to do this.  I’m not going to engage in a struggle with an ailing woman.  This is ridiculous.”

The young man got up, leaving a stunned Rand on the floor.  She looked up at the Orion, her eyes blinking, as if she couldn’t quite comprehend what was going on.  Was he letting her go?

The young Orion continued.  “I’m not going to be accused of abusing a female
 officer.  So, if you insist on going back on the job, I won’t get in the way.” 

The Orion stepped aside amid the mess and crossed his muscular arms over his chest.  He looked at Rand incredulously. 

“What are you waiting for?  You’re free to go.”  The Orion stood, a smirk etched across his lips.
The smirk on the Orion’s face made Rand angry, so she placed both hands on the ground in front of her and slowly positioned herself up, to prove to this guy that she didn’t need him or sickbay.  As Rand straightened herself up, she saw stars, but she wasn’t going to let this jerk know about it!  Rand looked at the young officer and smiled smugly, swaying perilously like a pendulum.  

 “Really?”  The Orion snorted, clearly disgusted with this sad attempt at independence.

 “Shut up,” Rand bit back as the Orion rolled his eyes.  Rand waited until she felt steady enough to walk, and walk she did.  Silence passed between the two of them, while she proceeded to exit the supply room, being careful to step over the surrounding debris on the floor. 

It was blue skies from here on end as Rand walked smartly, and with confidence, towards the door.  She reached the hallway when she noticed how the passers-by moved in slow motion, the hall teetering sideways.  Her legs felt tingly, and started to buckle underneath her.  Her head was light and dizzy, and her body swayed and wobbled until it fell forward.  The last thing she remembered was something strong encircling itself around her waist before she completely blacked out.


 Dear Reader,

Greetings, and Welcome!

This is a site that focuses on the adventures of Yeoman Janice Rand and a certain special young man in her life.

Sorry, I've already told you that in my sidebar introduction, didn't I?

However, there is one thing that I didn't tell you just yet...

This particular object of Rand's desire is NOT Captain James T. Kirk!  Oops, maybe I told you that too!

I can hear you fans of the Kirk/Rand pairing right about now yelling "Say it isn't so!"

Well, I'm here to say that it is so--and I'm loving every minute of it!

I know that I'll probably have to explain myself, as to how I came to put Janice Rand in this pairing.

Originally, I was writing a story called A Place of Truth which was to feature a Spock/Uhura pairing.  Janice Rand played a secondary character in this adventure, as Uhura's best friend and confidant.  As important a character as Rand was in the story, the lovers Spock and Uhura were to be the main characters of this romantic adventure tale.  However, a funny thing happened while I was writing this saga.

The more I developed Janice Rand in my story, the more she began to upstage Uhura.

Janice Rand's character would always come across as the more interesting character; funnier, more colorful, tougher, more resourceful.  Frankly, it got to the point where Uhura started to recede into the background.  What on Earth was going on?  It's not like I planned this.

What did I do about this, you ask?  Honestly, I didn't do anything about it.  I figured that Rand could get her own story, but only after I had finished with Uhura's.   But then, I got bored with the work and abandoned it.  I didn't bother to pick up A Place of Truth for two years.

It wasn't until 2011 when I decided to try once again with Uhura's narrative.

So, like a dutiful little writer, I continued where I left off and wrote again.  But, as I worked on the story, a romantic tale for Janice Rand started coming to me in bits and chunks, until it finally came to me as one complete whole.  Janice's story eventually pushed against me so much that I decided to postpone A Place of Truth, so that I could begin Janice's story, Your Enemy is Dead.

As for the first story, I ended up abandoning it altogether.  I have absolutely no desire to ever pick it up again.

You see, it's one thing to write a story about an established slash pairing.  However, it's a far more gratifying experience when you come up with a pairing of your very own.

Well, almost my very own.  Janice Rand belongs to Gene Roddenberry, after all.

Your Enemy is Dead is in nine parts, and will be presented twice a month on this blog.  The twice monthly entries are done for two reasons.

The first reason has to do with final corrections, as I need to make them before I can post them on my blog.  I like to edit my work, put it aside for about a week or two, and then return to it for possible re-editing.  This might sound like a bit much, but this is how I work.

Sorry about that.

The second reason for the twice monthly entries is because a long story could be a bit daunting on a website.  Well, at least I think so.  I get overwhelmed when I see that little blue ball at the far right end of the screen getting smaller and smaller, while the amount of words become more abundant.

Like I said--daunting.

So, I thought that giving you this story(and future stories, hopefully) in smaller dosages would make it easier for you to take in.

Well, I'm done here for now.  The first installment to my story will be on my blog by the end of the week.

Oh, and one more thing if you will.

Please excuse the appearance of this blog, as it is a work in progress.  I will have images up as soon as I find pictures that are both to my liking and free of copyright infringement.

Take care.


I spotted a story on another site
with a scene that was a little too
similar with aspects of my story.
It freaked me out, quite frankly.
As a fan fiction writer, I really have
no recourse in such a situation.
So, the next best thing is to
put down information as to when
this story was  originally worked on.  So, here
it goes-

Outline completed: June 1, 2011
Draft Zero completed: Sept 6, 2011
First Draft completed: Dec 20, 2011
Second and Third Draft completed:
Jan 28, 2012 (you'd be amazed by
all the corrections you can do
quickly on your computer. Try
doing two drafts on the same day
on a typewriter-ha, ha).
Fourth Draft completed: Jan 29, 2012.
Originally published Jan 29, 2012
on another site.  Pulled off site
for more editing.  Never republished
on the other site.

All my stories will have the dates of
each stage of completion at the end
of their final chapters.

Thank you.