Aug 222009

Title: Fallout
Fandom: ST TOS
Characters: Starek, Merendith, Stavret, D’nila
Rating: T
Warnings: Angst, drunkenness, drunken stupidity, gossip rags, expletives
Notes: Chronicles of the first week of fallout, following Zahvan T’Masu

Fuck My Life

Starek’s Personal Log:

  • I got hired to do a job. I did it. I regretted it. I fell in love with the goddamn target. FML.
  • Rephrasing the earlier sentiment: Today, I fell in love with the man I was supposed to out as a fag in front of the entire Quadrant. Then he broke my heart. Then I offered him one of my Orion engineers, to counteract my earlier indiscretions. I need all of my engineers and all of my body parts. FML.
  • He didn’t take the Orion. He also didn’t take me. FML.
  • Down three mochas. Double-chocolate wasn’t cutting it. Replicated a jar of Nutella, and have been mixing it in, by the tablespoon. Pretty sure there’s broken glass in front of the vanity. Think it’s because I’ve been throwing cups.
  • Reflecting on mind melds. Wonder what I don’t know I gave up. Hope it wasn’t anything important. If it had anything to do with the Delta VII incident, I can kiss my ass goodbye. FML.
  • On the floor, in front of the replicator. Not sure how many mochas, but there’s glass everywhere. FML.
  • (thick and slurred, very drunk, possibly crying) I’m a space pirate and I just lost my mental virginity to a Starfleet officer. FML.
  • Can’t bring myself to look at the news. It’s early evening. Know I slept, don’t know how long. Think I’m still drunk.
  • Definitely still drunk. Just fell in the glass. It really is all over the floor. FML.
  • Merendith has me strapped to a table in her office, until I sober up. She made fun of me, while picking the glass out of my hands. GLASS. out of my HANDS. Love you, too, Doc. FML.
  • Just heard Stavret’s trying to recycle the glass all over my floor. Am sure this is a ploy to guilt me into something, later.
  • D’nila just came in and reminded me that I miss Spock. She wants details from last night. Cannot strangle Chief Engineer while strapped to table. FML.
  • Relatively sober. Have been informed I did not vomit all over my floor. Suspect this is why I was so drunk for so long. Not sure which of these options is worse.
  • Stavret came by to tell me what a fuckup I am. Also, he’s proud of me for doing something meaningful for myself, for a change. FOR A CHANGE. Must re-examine life. In the mean time, FML.
  • No longer strapped down. Returned to my quarters. Pretending to have nerves of steel, so I can look at the news and judge the damage done. Not cool enough, yet. Should sleep. Can’t sleep. Too much coffee. FML.

Subspace Doesn’t Have That Newsprint Smell

From Superficial and Terran:

Ambassador Sarek‘s son Commander Spock — one of the few Vulcans in Starfleet — was spending last night in the arms of his lover — a Romulan swashbuckler, with no name on record! What bars does he go to, and can we know where they are? Check out the stills we’ve got, but be careful, they’re NSFW.

From The Daily Spanner:

Looks like the Federation’s making peace overtures to the Romulans! Last night, Ambassador Sarek’s son was filmed in some rather compromising positions with an unknown Romulan. View the article in full, for video!

From Celebrity Fragfest:

The Federation’s prized half-Vulcan was filmed, last night, in the home of Vulcan expatriate and patron of the arts, T’Nis. All ears on deck predicted he’d wind up in her bed by the end of the night, but we were in for a shocker! Turns out Spock swings the other way, and rather happily, according to the clips and stills we received from the security tapes!

From alt.starfleet.ships.enterprise:
> Congratulations, Spock! Way to score one for all of us! (If you’re done with him, can I have his routing codes? ‘Cause hot DAMN, boy.)

> What the fuck, man. Do Vulcans even have sex? I thought that required emotion.

> 8.5 out of any 10 Terran males can prove the previous poster incorrect.

> Guys, can we stop talking about Vulcans and sex? This is not what I want to be reading over my goddamned morning coffee.

> Shut your face, Doc. We all know it’s you. …You know, as far as I can tell, they really are retractable. I mean, check out the fifth still from Fragfest.

> Okay, so, we’ve all seen him naked. Is anyone going to be able to take another order without laughing?

> No, but I’ll take it while I’m laughing. I ain’t getting my ass written up for this.

> Hey, Spock, what night are you coming back from leave? You, ah… wanna come out and have a good time? *winks*

Reflections of a Starship Pirate

Starek’s Personal Log:
It’s like being stuck in a box — a goddamn glass box. I can see out, and the world can see in, but no matter what I say, no one can hear me. I’m there, but I’m not part of anything. This is not new. It’s always been like this.

Sometimes, I think the box is the ship, but it’s not. It’s smaller than that. At least here, the things that don’t matter get heard. It keeps us intact. But, living is not the same as survival.

The golden passion that’s kept us up, these past years? It’s gone. Maybe I’m the only one who knows, but I doubt it. Merendith’s been looking at me strangely since we left orbit. All the colour has run out of me, but I can still see it in everything else. It’s funny, you know, I always heard that the colour would run out of the world. But, it’s still there, taunting me. The burning in my soul is envy. And the burning in my blood is jealousy. The green is there. A rich, deep colour — darker than blood. It’s the only colour I have left, to myself.

My wits are gutted, that’s for certain, and I’m not sure if I’m as pleased as I should be that I haven’t been thrown to the dogs. I can’t feel my fingers. They’ve been numb for days. Merendith tells me it’s not from the glass. She tells me it’s shock, and then she gives me the eye, like she wants to know what could’ve made such an impact without tearing the ship apart. I haven’t told her. Probably won’t. D’nila probably will. It’s impossible to keep a romance away from an Orion — or vice versa.

I’m empty on the inside, and the glass box just keeps getting smaller. How long until I implode, I wonder?

Must’ve said it out loud. Merendith’s telling me it’s not possible, and I wish I believed her. Stavret’s giving me the look that tells me we’re going to talk about this, later. I don’t really want to talk about it, but something tells me I’ve stopped having a choice in the matter. You don’t tell your best friend to go introduce himself to an airlock, when the world’s falling in around your ears.

I have no business being on the bridge, I think. Stavret knows how to fly the ship, and Merendith’s here to keep him company. I suspect there’s something going on, there, and if Stavret’s going to make me talk, I’m going to ask. Right now, though, I’m going to go back to bed. Just going to stare at the canopy and write haiku chains until I pass out, again.

Nothing that can’t be slept off, right?

With a Vulcan… On the news…

Ever since their son had disappeared with that Stavret boy, Voorlek and Kavera had been leaving the Federation subspace receiver switched on, in their living room, hoping for some news from beyond the Neutral Zone — hoping for some sign that Starek was alive, at all. If he were still in the Empire, of course, they would be made aware, as soon as he was found.

Kavera had settled in, to watch the latest Federation sex scandal unfold — she wanted something silly and meaningless with her dessert, that night, when she heard that one of the participants was a Romulan expatiriate. This would be a good one, for certain, and no doubt the Empire would demand their citizen returned, immediately to the border. She nearly dropped her bowl into her lap, when the images began to appear.

"Voorlek! Voorlek! H’tah-fvienn! Choch!"

Voorlek rushed into the room, confused and alarmed to see his wife pale-faced and pointing at the screen. "Fvah?"

"Starek…" she groaned, in horror, "ih’thaessu… hrrau’mne…"

Voorlek blinked in stunned disgust as he parsed the images going by on the screen. It wasn’t so much that his son was with a man — he’d really expected that, watching the boy with Stavret, all those years, it was that his son was naked on a public subspace broadcast. Naked, with a Vulcan performing distinctly obscene acts upon him.

"Dii thiich," he offered with a shrug, trying to find a bright side.

"Hrhae lloann nnea’anna ih’thaessu, dhat’i elet!" Kavera protested.

"Partrai hwio kheid? Hhaetn ihir sentaire rhae…" Voorlek sat on the arm of the sofa, giving Kaevera a kiss on the top of her head. "Hhaetn dii viduus."

"Daie hhaetn dii viduus." She gestured at the screen, pausing to cock her head. "Rrhaar thaessu hhaetn partrai demhos."

Ghosts in the Ether

Merendith’s Personal Log:
As anticipated, the Empire demanded the return of ‘the traitor’ — only one, which says they haven’t noticed Stavret’s missing — so he could be put to death. The only charges they could find sufficient evidence to press were leaving the Empire without a military escort and consorting with an enemy of the state. As neither of these charges carry much weight with the Federation, Federation officials promptly offered Starek asylum, as a defector, provided he would grant them access to any Romulan secrets he possessed.

Neither Starek nor Stavret have any love for politics or politicians, and they never made themselves known to claim the offer. Don’t think they will, either. They would not be Federation citizens. They aren’t citizens of any Empire, and as Starek’s become fond of saying, it would take more than a good dicking, to change that.

The Romulans still haven’t noticed the missing ship, and fucked if we’re going to point it out.

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