Hey,
guess who.
This is going to be short.
I've been trying to find Star Trek fan fiction blogspots for a while now, but I have not been too successful.
I know that there has to be some.
If anyone out there knows of any, can you please leave the name of the blogspot in the comment section under this entry. I'd really like to follow them.
If possible, can you make sure that these are blogspots that are still active?
Looking forward to what you find.
Thank you,
Prov :D
Yeoman Janice Rand finds that there is indeed love after Captain Kirk. It all happens here on this website.
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Finally...
Hey, Dear Reader!
It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?
I apologize for that, but you know how it is for a writer
when writer’s block becomes a constant companion.
And what a companion it’s been. Talk about an uninvited guest that refused to leave!
However, I’ve got some pretty good news to share.
I have a working outline for the next story on this
blog!
YAAAAAAAAY!!!!!!!!!!
I’ve had it for a while, but this summer’s been a bit busy
so I have not been able to improve on it.
Mind you, it’s just a working outline, but it’s an outline nonetheless.
Hey, working outline or final outline, it feels great to be
writing again!
And it couldn’t come a moment too soon, either. All of the vegetables I had been trying
to grow have either come out too scrawny, or they haven’t grown at all. The only thing they were good for,
quite frankly, was the compost bin.
So, I guess they’ll be no summer garden vegetables for me
this year. Oh, well.
The flowers haven’t faired much better; the spiked primrose
and candyturf had grown rather enemically, so they ended up in the compost
too. The pussywillow and white
rose bush have been pulled out of the ground, potted and put aside for next
spring, because they haven’t grown at all.
There is one bright note in the mist of all this; the
hydrangeas are growing, albeit slowly.
Oh, wait!
The tulips and daffodils I had planted back in the fall did
grow back in the early spring! I
almost forgot about that.
Maybe all of this less-than- fruitful gardening helped me to
get those creative juices flowing again.
Creativity begets creativity, I suppose.
Who am I to question it?
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
YIPES!
Hey, guys!
Here I am!
Just saw something that was a little unsettling to me, so I thought I'd give myself the opportunity to get something off my chest ( yes, again) :P
I spotted a poll on a website called Slice of SciFi which asked its readers out of all of the fan productions listed, which one would they like Paramount to pick up for television or a web series?
According to the writer that put up the poll, the idea of picking up one of those fan productions for network viewing has actually been bandied about.
When I saw this, I could feel my heart leap to my throat! Absolutely no way, I thought!
If this were to come into fruition, the fate of the web series would be pretty grim.
First thing that would be dropped from the show would be the cast members, then the writers, then the producers...
...and so on, and so on, and so on.....
The end result? A mediocre professional production without the unique vision of the original web series' artists. It could even usher in an age of Hollywood highjacking of fan productions.
Now, I don't know about you, Dear Reader, but to this blogger, this prospect is, like I stated before, pretty grim.
I can't understand why Trekkers feel that only Hollywood can do justice to Star Trek? Haven't the fans more than risen to the occasion?
Judging from Enterprise and JJ Abrams' take on Star Trek, I'd say that Hollywood has lost its steam in that department.
Of course, I can't enter into the minds of the producers of these fan productions. They might just love the idea. I can only speak for myself.
Hasn't big business done enough highjacking of independent work? What Hollywood calls independent film these days is an utter joke! What about Amazon.com grabbing hold of fan fiction writing?
Seriously, people? Do we really want this?
We truly need to get over this fixation! Big Business does not do a better job in creating than independent artists! They need to get their big fat corporate hands off of these works!
No, the big guys do not do it better!
I said it before and I'll say it again!
Leave it to the fans!
Period.
Note:
Poll I am referring to was placed on 2/23/14. You can find it by googling Star Trek Continues Controversy.
Here I am!
Just saw something that was a little unsettling to me, so I thought I'd give myself the opportunity to get something off my chest ( yes, again) :P
I spotted a poll on a website called Slice of SciFi which asked its readers out of all of the fan productions listed, which one would they like Paramount to pick up for television or a web series?
According to the writer that put up the poll, the idea of picking up one of those fan productions for network viewing has actually been bandied about.
When I saw this, I could feel my heart leap to my throat! Absolutely no way, I thought!
If this were to come into fruition, the fate of the web series would be pretty grim.
First thing that would be dropped from the show would be the cast members, then the writers, then the producers...
...and so on, and so on, and so on.....
The end result? A mediocre professional production without the unique vision of the original web series' artists. It could even usher in an age of Hollywood highjacking of fan productions.
Now, I don't know about you, Dear Reader, but to this blogger, this prospect is, like I stated before, pretty grim.
I can't understand why Trekkers feel that only Hollywood can do justice to Star Trek? Haven't the fans more than risen to the occasion?
Judging from Enterprise and JJ Abrams' take on Star Trek, I'd say that Hollywood has lost its steam in that department.
Of course, I can't enter into the minds of the producers of these fan productions. They might just love the idea. I can only speak for myself.
Hasn't big business done enough highjacking of independent work? What Hollywood calls independent film these days is an utter joke! What about Amazon.com grabbing hold of fan fiction writing?
Seriously, people? Do we really want this?
No, the big guys do not do it better!
I said it before and I'll say it again!
Leave it to the fans!
Period.
Note:
Poll I am referring to was placed on 2/23/14. You can find it by googling Star Trek Continues Controversy.
Monday, May 5, 2014
It's Been Awhile, But I'm Still Here...
It’s been awhile, but I’m still here…
Remember back during your college days, when, by the end of
the semester, your brain felt like it had been dosed with a healthy shot of procaine
it was so numb and heavy from all of that studying it had been subjected
to? Remember how relieved you were
when spring break or the winter holidays came along? Each break was always a much- needed vacation for your head,
wasn’t it? A mental getaway for
your intellectual faculties; refreshment and fortification so that you can
face, head on, another round of rigorous studying when you returned next
semester.
Well, that’s exactly how I’ve been feeling, maybe even more
so, because, unlike the average six month semester a college or graduate
student has of non-stop studying, I’ve been writing non-stop since 2011—a three
year roll, you could say!
People, when I say that I need a break, I mean that
emphatically!
Frankly, I don’t feel like sitting in front of the white
glare of the computer pounding away at the keys! I don’t feel like jotting away on a legal pad or a notebook
until my fingers ache!
I just want to take it outside and commune with nature right
now. I just want to roll in the
dirt with complete abandon!
Then, afterwards, I want to shake myself off and work in the
garden.
I just got a $229.00 dollar Toter composter from Amazon and
I can’t wait to use it! As soon as
my brother comes over with his drill to make a drainage hole at the bottom (why
the makers couldn’t add the hole themselves is beyond me) I’ll be good to go! I can’t wait to throw in the greens with
the browns, the nitrogen with the carbons and neutrals and watch them
burn! I want to give witness to
seeds becoming sprouts while I plant bulbs for the following spring, and sample
my tumbling batch of cherry tomatoes once they’re fully grown!
I need fresh air, folks! I need the sun on my shoulders, the wind on my back; even
the rain pattering down on my head would be a welcome! I plan to take much of this spring and
summer in order to, as the late Rod Serling once said, “replenish the well!”
Now, this is not to say that I won’t write the occasional
commentary—as a matter of fact, I already have an idea for one dancing (albeit
sluggishly) in my little head.
However, it’s my storytelling that needs to be put in the backburner for
awhile.
So, I hope you all have a great spring and summer! Myself, Janice and the gang will see
you all real soon!
Happy Planting!
Monday, February 24, 2014
Leave it to the Fans: My thoughts on Star Trek Continues and the Star Trek Phenomenon.
Title: Leave it to the Fans: My thoughts on Star Trek Continues
and the Star Trek Phenomenon.
Author: ProvidenceMine.
So, you’re one of those fans who
think that Star Trek is dead, or broken.
With every fiber of your being, you honestly believe that
J.J. Abrams has led Star Trek into the slaughterhouse and butchered it beyond
recognition.
Personally speaking, I’ve always found J.J. Abrams’ version
of Star Trek to be deeply unsatisfying.
Sitting in that darkened theater watching the 2008 reboot (or was it
2009?), I felt as if I was watching a Michael Bay movie with all the smugness
and cartoonish sensibility that seem to characterize his works. The twisting of canon was particularly
unfortunate; between the destruction of Vulcan and the unexplained appearance
of an Orion woman in Starfleet (Orions are not a part of the Federation), I
left the movie house pretty disgusted, vowing never to see another J.J. Abrams’
Star Trek film again.
And I’ve kept that vow.
I just continued to kick back and enjoy the various forms of
Star Trek fan works out there.
A few years later, while I was still wasting time on
Twitter, I was searching for Star Trek fan artists (writers, artists, crafters,
filmmakers, etc.) that I could follow.
I spotted the Twitter icon of Star Trek Continues and was struck by both
the physical similarities of the actors to their characters and the painstaking
detail in recapturing the famous
photograph of Kirk and Spock looking up into the camera.
I read the caption, went to their website and was
intrigued. Star Trek Continues is
a webseries that takes place during the last two years of the Enterprise’s
five-year mission. I checked out
their works on Vimeo, which consisted of three vignettes and (at the time) one
full episode.
Simply put, I was blown away!
Seriously blown away!
Talk about studying your subject matter!
Watching Star Trek Continues was, literally, like watching
The Original Series! The sets,
cinematography, music, and direction are so faithful in their detail it’s
astonishing! The stories are
beautifully written and true to the human drama that Star Trek was renowned
for.
However, what impressed me most of all was the cast. These supremely talented actors not
only play their roles to utter perfection, they even fit their characters
physically, which was astounding to me, considering that none of the actors
resemble anyone from the original cast.
Star Trek Continues is the crown jewel of fan
production! It’s as if The
Original Series never ended after its third season! And unlike some other fan productions that look like they’re
fan productions, Star Trek Continues looks as professional as Star Trek did
back in the day. Even a fan
production like Of Gods and Men, as well done as it is, simply doesn’t have the
polish that Star Trek Continues does.
And, the best thing about this webseries is that they’re just getting
started, with only two full episodes under their belt. More stories to write and produce mean
more episodes to look forward to.
So, if there is any doubt in your mind that Star Trek lives, then you
really need to check out these webisodes!
Since the time J.J. Abrams first took a shot at The Original
Series, I’ve heard many fans lament the death of Star Trek, or the destruction
of it. Now, as much as I have a
real distaste for the reboot( more like giving it the boot), I can’t say that I
share the pessimistic view of many of my fellow Trek fans.
How is Star Trek broken? When did it die?
I truly don’t understand what these people are talking
about.
While it may be true that Star Trek is not at the height of
its popularity as it was in the 70s and 80s, that is not to say that Star Trek
is dead, broken, or on life support.
After all, nothing stays at the peak of its popularity forever.
That’s simply a fact of life.
All you need to do is think about a certain group of sparkly
little blood suckers and of how things have quieted down considerably in their
neck of the woods.
Star Trek, even past its prime of popularity, is still going
strong! All you have to do is go on Amazon to look at all of the new novels and
merchandise that come out each year that are based on the series.
And, let’s be honest here. Many fans might not like the J.J. Abrams reboot, but there
probably never would have been one had it not been for Star Trek’s continuing
impact. The mega box office for
both reboots is yet another testament to the series’ endurance.
Star Trek is not, nor has it ever been, dead.
The problem lies with Hollywood. In the case of Star Trek, the mainstream film industry
simply can’t deliver the goods anymore.
This is not only the case with The Original Series, but with the whole
franchise.
The last television show, Enterprise, didn’t receive bad
ratings because Star Trek went out of style, it received bad ratings because it
was a poorly executed show.
The last film before J.J. Abrams version, Nemesis, didn’t
fail at the box office because Star Trek was no longer viable, it failed at the
box office because it was a miserable movie.
Those two spills and messes were brought to you by Hollywood. Period.
From where I stand, I think that the problem has been we’re
always looking to Hollywood to ‘bring Star Trek back to life,’ if you will. Considering that Star Trek is indeed a
product of Hollywood, that’s understandable.
As it goes, Star Trek is no longer something that Hollywood,
in its less than infinite wisdom, can work with anymore. It will not find new life in that town
of tinsel the way it did back in the 70s and 80s.
The present and future life of the Star Trek phenomenon belongs
to its fans.
I had written earlier about the new books and merchandise
that continually show up on Amazon.
What about the abundance of fan fiction, fan productions,
fan clubs and fan artwork that are out there, online and offline? It was the fans that continued to
breath new life to Star Trek. They
did it after Star Trek went off the air back in 1969, and they continued to do
so after Enterprise went off the air back in 2005. Do you know how many years that is?
And, during all those years, there were some incredible fan
works that were produced, right?
The writings of Wildcat and Jean Lorrah, websites like My
Star Trek Scrapbook…
…and fan productions like Star Trek Continues.
Talk about paying homage!
Hey, as long as you believe that only the studio heads in
those stucco casted and palm tree shrouded luxury buildings are the only people
who can bring back Star Trek in all its glory, then, yes, Star Trek is truly
dead, broken, or on life support.
However, if you leave it to the fans, then Star Trek is not
dead.
It’s alive and kicking!
Thursday, February 13, 2014
Man-Hating Wing Nut Bitch
Title: Man-Hating Wing Nut Bitch
Author: ProvidenceMine
Parts: One
Rating: R for violence
Codes: Rand, Kirk, Spock
Summary: A different take on the attempted rape scene from
The Enemy Within.
Disclaimer: Paramount Pictures owns all of Star Trek and its
characters. This is a work of fan
fiction, and I will not, in any way, profit from this.
Blondes make the best victims. They’re like virgin snow that shows up the bloody
footprints.
--Alfred Hitchock
Janice Rand stepped through the doors of her quarters and
sighed emphatically. Oh, Thank God
that’s over, she thought as she hastily removed the strap of the recorder case
from her shoulder. She
walked over to the counter at the other side of her room and dropped the
recorder there. She rotated her shoulder
and then her neck, taking deep breaths throughout. She didn’t think that anything so small could make her feel
like she was lugging around bars of lead, but a double shift had a tendency to
do that.
Rand was looking forward to spending some time with Nyota
and Warren Kyle, who had just started seeing each other a few weeks ago. They would meet in the rec room to play
a few rounds of pool. She smiled,
thinking how cute a couple they made, and how happy she was for her best
friend.
Rand patted the back of her head and cringed at the thought
of how her hair must look after a long, arduous day. She walked over to the dresser unit and touched the hatch
gently, waiting for the rotating walls to reveal the dresser with all it
provided for her. Looking at her
reflection in the mirror, Rand got to work on her hair, angling her head while
she repositioned pins and tucked in straying strands of flaxen back in
place.
Straightening herself for a final appraisal, she noticed
movement in the shadows right over her bedchamber behind her.
“What the…”
Alarmed, she turned to see what it was.
It was The Captain.
“Oh Captain!
You startled me! I didn’t
know what…”
The Captain raised a carafe of alcohol to his lips and took
a swig of the amber liquid, taking it down in audible gulps. Rand looked at him, and was struck by
this gesture, and of how he wiped the dribble from the corners of his mouth and
his chin. It seemed so alien, so
ugly, like something that a pirate, or a hobo, would do. It struck with a particular unease
because The Captain was behaving this way in her quarters.
And he had been hiding in a corner of her room.
Waiting for her.
Talk about not following protocol.
The captain always called on his starship personnel either
through intercom, computer, or a messenger sent to one’s door. It was only his two chief officers
whose rooms he entered, and that was rare.
Not only was this not protocol, it was an affront.
What exactly was going on?
He stood right in front of Rand. There was something about the way he carried himself here;
smug, almost surly. The typically
hurried, distracted, clipped demeanor was gone.
“Captain? Is
there any reason at all why you’re in my room? Is this an emergency, or something?”
The Captain didn’t answer, but swept his eyes over her body
in an intrusive and calculating manner.
In the past, Rand had loved it when the captain took notice of her,
stealing some glances along the way.
Hell, there were even times when she encouraged it. A cross of the legs here, an arch of
the neck there. But not this. This attention she didn’t like. She didn’t like the cold, clammy way he
made her feel.
The Captain’s lips curled obscenely into a leering, pompous
imitation of a smile.
“Jim will do here, Janice.”
“Oh,” she replied uneasily.
Calm yourself, she thought. After all, you could be overreacting. Maybe you’re being a bit of an
alarmist. Her gut, however, was
telling her otherwise, tugging at her like an irritating, impatient brat on a mother’s
skirt hem.
God, this wasn’t right at all!
“You’re too beautiful to ignore. Too much woman,” he said, putting down the carafe on the
counter bordering the bedchamber from the rest of the room. “We’ve been …pretending too long,
Janice.”
He moved towards her, and she instinctively backed
away. The Captain took notice,
mockingly tilting his head as he continued towards her. “You’re backing away from me,
Janice. Is…this…a
…little…teeaassssse?”
What Rand needed right now were eyes in the back of her
head, big bug eyes that could pop out and through her thick blond coiffure and
guide her the fuck out of there!
As it was, she was aiming blindly for the door, trying to pick up the
pace without falling over, or ending up against a wall.
“Stop pretending, Janice!”
Rand was suddenly disoriented. She couldn’t recall exactly when The Captain had closed in
on her, but there he was, his hands like talons on her shoulders, digging into
her so hard that the pain was almost numbing. She yelped and tried to pull away.
“Let’s stop pretending.”
The Captain pulled her to him and leaned in for a kiss. Rand pushed against The Captain’s chest
and turned her face away, the smell of alcohol and stale saliva that seeped
from his lips revolting to her.
She took the heel of one of her hands and pressed it under his jaw,
trying to push his face, his mouth, away from her, but his strength overpowered
her. Her arms trembled as The
Captain pushed against her hand and drew in closer, his hot breath dank on her
cheeks. She struggled valiantly
until her arms finally gave way under his physical power. The vapors of his breath engulfed her
nostrils, making her gag while his lips laved her cheeks and jaw, leaving them
wet and cold with a repugnant, reptilian slime. His kiss was abrasive, sloppy, like a damp, caked up, oily
rag.
Rand managed to jerk and turn her head away, his residue
still sickening fresh on her mouth.
She twisted violently in his arms and tried to pull herself away, trying
to break his hold on her body. She
fought back tears that stung her eyes, tried to hold back the tremors that
coursed through her. She’d be
damned if she’d show this animal her fear, confusion and hurt! She would only show him her rage, would
fight with it, fight her way out of this nightmare!
Rand suddenly felt her legs hit and tumble against
something.
It whipped underneath her, making her legs buckle and lose
her balance.
The foot of The Captain, no doubt.
She was falling, still caught in The Captain’s grip. She flayed her arms and legs, trying to
recover her balance, the ground underneath her. She couldn’t, and in her crumbling resolve the sobs racked
their way out, choking her, the tears thick and blinding.
Not like this!
Please, not like this!
Her back hit the floor, causing her arms to throw themselves
over her head. Rand let out a
groan from the pain that coursed through her shoulder blades, her spine, the
back of her head. She felt like
she was submerged in water as her body throbbed numbly.
Hovering over her was the face of The Captain, emerging from
the cloud of her tears. Rand could
feel The Captain pin her arms over her head, piling one wrist on top of the
other and pushing them down, while his free hand slithered under her uniform
skirt, grabbed hold of the waist of her shorts, and pulled at them roughly, the
fabric digging into the flesh of her hip.
The Captain’s nails scraped Rand’s pantyhose right below the hip,
creating a tear and leaving a scratch on her skin, wet from her blood. She yelped and shut her eyes tightly,
her whole body tensing up as if doing would make it all stop.
NO! NO!No!No!Nononononon……………The word ebbed inside her,
simultaneously expanding and contracting in her head and body.
Suddenly, there was a stillness, a centering.
Rand stopped crying, stopped tensing her muscles. She was able to release herself from
her imprisoning fear. She opened
her eyes and looked directly into The Captain’s and smiled. She arched her back, giggling.
“Ooh, honey.
Why so rough?” she cooed.
The Captain stopped, cocking his head sideways like a
confused dog. He even made a
stupid little dog sound.
Rand scanned The Captain’s body and bit her lip, tugging it
softly.
“No need for you to work so hard, Jim. Why don’t you just let me take off my
uniform? I am a big girl, you
know.” To emphasize her point, she
grounded her butt into the carpeted floor. “Pleeeesssse?”
The Captain smiled at this welcome change, and grunted his
approval.
“I knew you’d come around and stop teasing me. That’s a good little girl.”
The Captain released her and positioned his arms on either
side of her.
“Let me look at you first,” she said.
She ran her hands up the sides of his upper body, sweeping
them up his shoulders, his neck, and ending on his face. Rand traced his cheekbones and temples
delicately with her fingertips.
“God, I’ve always thought you were soo handsome. The most handsome man I’ve ever laid
eyes on.”
The Captain was like a cat under her strokes, making low,
throaty sounds as he leaned into her fingers, her touch.
Rand continued to trace her fingers along the lines of his
face until they settled onto his cheeks, cradling his face. The Captain rubbed his cheeks against
her palms, and she applied more pressure at his urging. She pressed her palms into his skin,
slowly kneading her fingertips into his cheeks and temples until her nails
latched onto their target.
“AAAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Rand took her sweet time, reveling in the sensation of The
Captain’s flesh ripping and curling under her nails the way the skin of a fruit
gives way under the blade of a peeler.
Of course, she had the added bonus of his blood collecting under her
nails as well, moistening the skin behind them.
Desperately tearing himself away from her attack, The
Captain bolted upright and howled to the ceiling, raising his hands to his
shredded, bloody face. Rand
scrambled out from under him and got up.
Rand stood over him, staring at him with a kind of hatred
she didn’t know was humanly possible.
“I’ll bet that hurt,” she said in a low -pitched tremor.
In one swift movement she kicked him under the chin, sending
The Captain reeling and slamming head on into the dresser.
Rand watched him quietly, waiting for him to untangle
himself from his twisted limbs.
When he finally recovered, The Captain’s expression betrayed a mixture
of surprise and….
Something else.
His eyes were wide, his mouth slack.
Was it fear?
Rand walked over until she was directly over him again, her
body shaking in uncontrollable rage.
“Get up,” she said.
The Captain was now crouched, readying himself, his eyes no
longer the round saucers they had been earlier, his mouth no longer slack. He had the look of a predator now,
narrowed gaze and tight drawn lips on a face red with fury.
“You’ll pay for that, you little whore!” he snarled.
He leaped from his spot and charged, his arms reaching out
with hands and fingers curled inward like claws. He let out a roar, a roar meant to frighten her, but Rand
was unfazed as she leaned sideways and stuck out her foot when he was close
enough to make contact. She
whipped it underneath him, making him tumble into the counter where she had
placed her recorder earlier. His
head met the edge of the counter and he spilled onto the floor, where he rolled
around, holding his head with both hands and braying like a jackass.
“YOU’LL BE PUNISHED FOR THIS, YEOMAN!!!! YOU’LL BE COURT-MARSHALLED FOR THIS, I
PROMISE YOU!!!
“Oh, it’s Yeoman now, huh. What happened to the first name basis thing?”
Rand stood triumphant, exuding a smugness that further
grated on The Captain as he looked up at her from his hands and knees.
An appropriate position for him, she thought.
“Would you prefer being called ‘cunt,’” he taunted.
“It won’t
matter one way or the another, asshole, because you might not even survive this
mess you put yourself in!”
The Captain snickered, and Rand laughed in response.
“Are you kidding me, bitch! By the time I get finished with you, you’ll either wish you
were never born or you’ll be begging for more! You’ll be the pet of all pets!”
“Wish I was never born? Begging for more?
Pet of all pets? God,
you’re just full of clichés, aren’t you.”
Oh, how his words infuriated her, made her taste blood, his
blood! She wanted to destroy him,
rending him impotent, hollow him out!
This man--whom she thought she loved.
Hell. Who the
fuck did he think he was?!
Or she was, for that matter?
Did he think he was some CEO in some 20th Century
office with a docile, pencil-skirted secretary?
Rand watched The Captain like a bird of prey. He was crouched on the floor like the
animal that he clearly was. When
he made a move, she mirrored it, her body language making it clear that she
would make good on her threat. The
Captain smiled in a nasty teeth- baring grimace, and she responded by doing the
same.
“You must be some kind of dyke, the way you hold you head up
and ignore the men when you pass them by.
I’m gonna take you down a notch!”
“Go for it, Cupcake,” she sneered. Rand reached for a long, intricately carved sculpture that
sat on a small, round table, placed just off-center in her room.
That slight turn away from The Captain cost her.
Like a blink of an eye he was on her, his fingers tightening
around her throat. His grip may
have been like steel, but her will was much stronger. She locked her hands on his and tried to tear them off her
while she gasped for air. The
Captain leaned in and pressed his mouth on hers, forcing it open. The slimy, coated tongue of The Captain
snaked its way in. Rand bit down
into his tissue and tasted the blood of The Captain now flooding her
mouth. He let out a screeching cry
like a jackal and stumbled back.
He was livid, crazed, rabid, his face crimson, his eyes wild, blood
streaking down his chin. He lowered
his eyes on her, stretching his quivering lips to bare clenched, bloodstained
teeth.
“YOU…MAN…HATING…WING…NUT…BIIIIIIIIITTTTTCCCCHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Rand was able to grab the sculpture and, gripping it with
both hands, slam the instrument squarely into his kidneys.
The Captain’s body bent, like a stem, into the blow. His extremities contracted into their
joints, making him look like a collapsing marionette. His face was like a red mask of horror; eyes glazed and
bulging, contorted, quivering mouth.
The sound that came out of him was wordless, distorted, warped.
“MMMUUUUUUEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHH…….”
A ripping, gurgling sound, long and loud, followed, coupled
with a foul stench that wafted through the quarters, assaulting Rand’s
nostrils. She placed two fingers
to her nostrils to block the offending odor.
Don’t tell me…
The pant area, in between his crotch and his buttocks, glistened at the seams, and then expanded, but not smoothly, like a balloon
filling up with air or water. It
rose in heavy, ungainly chunks, like wet sand. The Captain’s legs twisted together and he crumpled to the
floor.
He lay there on his back, his limbs tossed about like a
discarded scarecrow.
A straw captain.
Rand stood over him, noting how pathetic he looked. She snorted in disgust as she removed
her fingers from her nostrils and gripped the blunt object with both hands.
“You bring alcohol into my room, try to rape me, and then
you take a dump on my carpet?”
She raised the
sculpture over her head and positioned herself, so that she would be able to
get in a good aim right above The Captain’s forehead, to give him a good
braining. Rand took a deep
breath. She could just about taste
her revenge as surely as she could smell the unmistakable stink emanating from
The Captain. She watched him
writhing on the floor, teeth gritted, his eyes wide with terror as they zeroed
in on the weapon of choice that she held over her head.
Hell, she thought.
This was gonna be easy.
The Captain shook his head, whimpering dismally.
“N-n-no-noooo…”
Rand stopped for a moment and blinked, as if she was waking
up for the first time. She
looked down at The Captain, and suddenly found herself a lot less eager to hold
up her weapon. She started to
hesitate, looking at The Captain’s face full of fear, helpless.
“What the hell am I doing? Am I actually trying to kill this clown?”
Feeling defeated, she lowered her weapon, but she didn’t let
it leave her hand.
“I can’t do this.
I need to called security.”
It was like Rand was on autopilot. She went over to her desk where her computer was situated
and pressed the com. She knew what
she had to do. She knew she’d have
to turn herself in.
However, Rand also knew that she had the truth on her side,
that she was defending herself against a man who had been taking advantage of
his position of power in the most repugnant way, a way that saw its way out
back in the late 21st Century.
The Captain was not living in a time where he’d be able to fall back on
that “knowing people in high places” bullshit and use the System to bully a
yeoman. The Captain was finished,
his reputation in ruins. He would
be sent to a Federation penal colony and be a target for other inmates who
loathed sex offenders as much as anyone else on the outside. He’d have to watch his back, all right.
And she didn’t give a good goddamn shit.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
“Shit!”
It still hurt to get dressed, even after all those cortisone
shots she’d been subjected to in sickbay.
Rand had no way of seeing the bruises without a strategically positioned
mirror, but she could sure as hell feel them. She pulled out the top draw to her dresser and reached for a
pair of pantyhose. From her
mirror she could see the corner where she had first spotted The Captain’s face,
staring back at her.
Rand stopped what she was doing and simply stood there,
staring at the counter and remembering the carafe of alcohol he had placed
there. She still couldn’t quite
understand the physics behind it all, of how a malfunction in the transporter
room could split an individual in two to create a ‘good’ captain and an evil’
one.
There were two things she did understand, though. It was the ‘evil’ captain that invaded
her room, and it was the ‘evil’ captain that tried to rape her.
There was something else.
A few more things, actually.
Things that nagged at her as she continued staring at that
counter behind her.
It was certainly true that the situation was highly unusual,
and that the captain needed to be fused together in order to become a whole man
again. It was certainly true that
the ‘evil’ captain was an intruder on board the ship. But it was also, most certainly true that this ‘evil’
intruder was, in fact, the captain himself. It was just another part of him.
His evil part.
There was never any intruder on board at all, just the same
damn man split in two.
So, as this whole situation was deemed unusual, the captain
was able to get away with his crime.
After all, it was the ‘intruder’ who attempted the rape, right?
Bullshit.
In the mirror’s
reflection, Rand had noticed a shiny half-moon ring on that counter. Funny, this was the first time she’d
noticed it, what with all the feces and urine that had to be shampooed to death
out of her carpet.
How fucking sloppy can you get?
She’d be sure to call cleaning and maintenance before
heading for work this morning.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Calling it an awkward moment was putting it mildly.
Captain Kirk was heading for the turbolift right at the time
that Rand was stepping off of it.
The two of them stopped and looked at each other among the
usual bustle on the bridge, though it wasn’t exactly a ‘time stood still’
moment. Rand looked at Kirk,
whose smile was tepid, even hesitant.
He gazed deeply into her eyes, as if searching for some kind of sign
from her.
Forgiveness, perhaps?
Rand returned his smile, equally as wan and hesitant. But, unlike Kirk, who seemed to be
looking for some kind of assurance that things were square between them again,
her smile came from a place of uncertainty, of not knowing whether she’d remain
on the Enterprise under the command of this man, or whether she’d put in for a
transfer to another ship.
“Yeoman, I just want to say…”
“No, no, sir.
Nothing needs to be said.”
“Is there any chance that we can talk about what happened?”
Rand sighed. “I
think I’ll need more time before that could happen, sir.”
Kirk looked sad.
“I understand. I won’t
press the issue.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said rather flatly.
Without another word, they went their separate ways.
There was something that Rand noticed as Kirk was walking
away from her.
He was limping.
How about that!
Rand couldn’t help but smile to herself.
Talk about leaving her mark.
Rand spotted Mr. Spock across the way and walked over. She handed him a report that needed his
attention, and he took the PADD, looking it over before approving it with his
signature.
“The intruder had some interesting qualities, would you not say?”
Rand, who hadn’t been paying much attention to Spock,
suddenly turned to him and blinked.
Did he really say that?
What, was that his poor attempt at flirting?
What was that, exactly?
She didn’t know what bothered her more, the comment, or the
leering quality that dripped from his voice?
Or was slimy the more appropriate word.
“Would you please specify exactly what it is that you mean
by ‘interesting qualities’, Mr. Spock?” she asked levelly, trying with every
inch of her being from taking this alien by the ears and wrapping them around
his throat like an ill-fitting bowtie.
She was surprised how calm she sounded, considering.
The smirk on Spock’s face faded. He cocked his head, looking somewhat confused.
“Specify? I
don’t understand,” he said.
Rand was the one with the smirk on her face, now. “It’s not too hard, Mr. Spock. You simply need to specify what
qualities a would-be rapist would have that I might find ‘interesting.’ Is that so difficult?”
Spock didn’t say anything, he just stood there with a blank
slate for a face, holding the PADD dumbly in his hands.
Rand nodded.
“Ah, I thought so.”
She leaned in, half whispering in the Vulcan’s ear. “May I suggest, Mr. Spock, that since
you’re living among humans, that you learn to know the difference between
statements and questions that are okay, and those that are not okay. Maybe then, you’ll manage to be less
offensive than you all ready are.”
And with that, smiling sweetly, Rand snatched the PADD from
the hands of a stunned Mr. Spock and sauntered off towards the turbolift.
THE END
Outline:
started 11/21/13
finished 12/2/13
Draft Zero: started 12/2/13 finished 12/17/13
Draft One: started 12/18/13 finished 2/10/14
Finished Draft: started 2/11/14 finished 2/13/14
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