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Streets are filled with --
Picking up what people have left behind.
Problem/Solution! 
2nd-Jun-2009 09:08 am
danny OCEAN
PREMISE: I wish to sign up for remixredux09! It sounds exciting + other variables of awesome!

PROBLEM: I have not written five (5) or more fics of 500+ words OR seven (7) or more fics of 100+ words in any of the qualifying fandoms!

PREMISE: I KNOW MANY OF THESE FANDOMS.

SOLUTION: Your duty, flist, should you choose to accept it, is to leave a jillion prompts (okay, not really, maybe about 5 each 8D) in any of the following fandoms to AID ME ON MY QUEST to qualify for remixredux09 before June 6th! Please? 8D

Fandoms: Smallville (I am associated up to early S3 only, but who cares? It's Lex!), Star Trek: Reboot (YES PLEASE), Star Trek: TNG (I am associated with many random episodes but none of the movies; spoilers are my best friends, so don't worry), Firefly, Lord of the Rings, Stargate Atlantis (again, only associated up to the finale of S2, but it's Rodney McKay! EVERYONE CARES!).

PIMP IT. Think of it as one huge comment fic orgy? 8D 8D?

[edit] WIPs

Star Trek IX

Star Trek Reboot, The Crew, what tradition does Star Fleet have for crew members crossing the warp speed barrier for the first time? How does this get celebrated on the Enterprise? (~1000 words)
Comments 
2nd-Jun-2009 01:19 am (UTC)
Star Trek Reboot, The Crew, what tradition does Star Fleet have for crew members crossing the warp speed barrier for the first time? How does this get celebrated on the Enterprise?
2nd-Jun-2009 02:38 am (UTC)
HO HO HO *HAZ A DEVIOUZ PLAN*
2nd-Jun-2009 07:43 am (UTC)
OKAY CAVEAT LECTOR: am at work, so I'm scribbling these comment-responses down as ideas and snippets, FEEL FREE TO SMASH A REPLY AT IT if you like it! Hopefully when I get home it'll be transformed into something more substantial, but srsly, need to get words flowing first. \o/



Getting assigned to a command is nothing like living through your years at the Academy. Back on solid ground, you essentially follow a routine as old as the Federation itself: you go to classes, do a bit of research, find an area to specialise in, make a few friends, pass a few exams, take a few trips into localised space and - if you're lucky or good enough - spend part of a semester on a deep-space mission.

The traditions down there are reliable. You do not talk about Dr. Methoussan's hair. Or about Admiral Twrong's tentacles. If you want to pass Instructor Chang's Advanced Xenolinguistics lecture series, you make damn sure that you become really good friends with the librarians. You buy people drinks on your birthday, not the other way around, but they'll buy you two rounds the day before you go in for your round of physio every year, so it all balances out.

Ensign Chekov took a few years to learn Standard before he came to the Academy, and then he spent a few more months being very confused about the system, but eventually it all smoothed out and because he is very good at maths in the few months before everything exploded he did not even need to talk to his professors, which was excellent, very excellent.

'Well then how did you get by, laddie?' Mr. Scott waves a flask of not-very-strong alcohol at him.

Chekov shrugs, sheepishly. 'The wiewscreen,' he admits. 'I wuld vrite the equations, and then the graphs, and Mr. Scott I think you understand how -' Chekov motions, snapping his fingers. 'How you do not need Standard wen talking about subspace temporal loops in warp continuum!'

'Aye, aye.' Scotty nods sagely. 'I've got your meaning.'

Chekov likes Mr. Scott very much, because even though his drinks are not very good, Mr. Scott has a lot of drink, and Mr. Scott also is as very good at maths while at the same time not being as scary as Commander Spock. Chekov thinks he could get used to the Enterprise and doing this all year in far space - just him and his console and all this space to extrapolate.

'You been on many missions, Chekov?' Scotty asks.

'The Enterprise is my first command.' Chekov points at his Ensign insignia.

'Right,' Scotty nods. He props his boots up on the table that they're sharing, and leans back in his chair. 'Well, lemme tell you one thing: it gets a wee bit boring after a while.'

Chekov looks out of the depolarised viewports that line the side of the mess lounge - the stars wink back at him, inviting. 'Boring?' he says, sceptical.

'Mmhmm.' Scotty closes his eyes. 'Just you wait.'


2nd-Jun-2009 07:43 am (UTC)


'Ensign Chekov, the scans for the area, please.'

'Nothing ahead, Mr. Spock,' Chekov reports, tapping his fingers on his console. 'Nothing anywhere for the next twenty parsecs, sir. I am thinking we are not anywhere near anything, no?'

'No,' Mr. Spock says, turning to look at him, very calm. 'It would seem like we are not, Mr. Chekov.'

'We've been going through this corridor for four days,' the Captain says from his chair, bored. Then he slaps his palms down and says, 'I'm gonna go talk to Scotty.' Chekov sees Mr. Spock open his mouth, ready to object, but then the Captain beams at him and says, 'First Officer, you have the bridge,' and Mr. Spock's eyebrows move a little bit and then the Captain is in the turbolift and gone.

The bridge is deathly silent when the turbolift hisses shut.

Mr. Spock clears his throat. 'Mr. Sulu, Mr. Chekov,' he says, and Chekov feels his spine try to straighten itself automatically. 'How long more before we clear the Farmonion Corridor and re-enter established Federation space?'

Sulu and Chekov glance, at once, to the centre console, which reads out in neat, bright lettering EIGHT DAYS TWELVE HOURS AND THIRTY SIX MINUTES. Sulu looks at Chekov. Chekov looks back at him, desperate. Sulu raises an eyebrow, which is the universal expression that says I am the senior officer here so it's YOUR responsibility to tell the Vulcan exactly what he already logically knows but does not want to hear.

'Going at current speed we have eight days twelve hours and thirty six minutes until we reach our destination sir,' Chekov says very quickly.

Mr. Spock does not sigh, but then again Mr. Spock does not do a lot of things but that does not make him any less terrifying that he is.

'Captain to the Bridge,' the Captain's voice rings cheerily out into the horrific, soundless gulf. 'Chekov, I want you down here in Engineering.'

'Yes sir!' Chekov chirps in relief, and Sulu shoots him a dirty look but he does not care. 'With your permission, sir?' he asks Mr. Spock, and the moment Mr. Spock nods Chekov is out of there and speeding down the decks.



Edited at 2009-06-02 07:45 am (UTC)
2nd-Jun-2009 01:28 pm (UTC)
Chekov sees Mr. Spock open his mouth, ready to object, but then the Captain beams at him and says, 'First Officer, you have the bridge,' and Mr. Spock's eyebrows move a little bit and then the Captain is in the turbolift and gone.

BWAHAHAHA~~~~ i suck SO BAD cuz i see KIRK/SPOCK SUBTEXT in this sentence. rofl~~~
2nd-Jun-2009 07:44 am (UTC)

'Yes captain, I am here, captain!' Chekov announces himself when he skids into main Engineering.

The captain is bent over the warp drive core with Mr. Scott, looking alive for the first time in a while. For most of the last week, the Captain either sat in the chair through most of the shifts yawning with boredom until Mr. Spock got angry, or patrolled the different decks looking for something to do. That made Mr. Spock angry as well, now that Pavel thinks about it – after a while the crew got so paranoid of the Captain conducting a random spot check that they started to work overtime, and then Dr. McCoy threatened to give the Captain a sleep aid "before the rest of this damn ship comes looking for me because of insomnia, you twit". That argument had been very loud and on the bridge and he remembers trying very hard not to laugh, because while it was funny Chekov thinks that he does not want to spend the rest of his career mopping floors on the lower decks.

'Our Russian whizz kid arrives,' the Captain looks up, a really wide smile on his face. Chekov feels a sudden moment of doubt – he has very good self-preservation instincts most of the time, and they are telling him that that is the same smile that the Captain had just before he blew up the Romulan ship and almost had them all sucked into a black hole. But there is no running away; the Captain claps him on the shoulder an practically drags his face right up next to the warp core, and for a moment Chekov is distracted because it is such a beautiful warp core.

'New and precious like a baby,' Mr. Scott comments, seeing the expression on his face. 'I tuned her up myself before he got out of dock, now she works so smooth you could break warp 6 without her even shuddering.'

Chekov reaches out a hand to touch the side of the core. Oh, it's warm, and hums with a just detectable frequency. Mr. Scott is right – and there is nothing more amazing than the latest piece of Federation technology singing beneath your palms. Chekov has not yet really been in love (he was too busy trying to work through Euler and Riemann while he was in the Academy, and they were very interesting!! And also very time-consuming), but he thinks that this feeling probably comes close. 'Ah,' he says, stupidly, grinning. 'Um.'

Mr. Scott laughs. 'Get the stars out of your eyes, Ensign. You and she will be very good friends in the future, if you treat her right.'

'I hope so, sir,' Chekov says, dreamily.

'You were saying we could break warp 6 without a sweat, Scotty?' the Captain asks, nonchalantly. Chekov doesn't really hear him, being too busy staring at the readout on the power conversion panel.

'Aye,' Mr. Scott is saying.

'How about warp 8?'

Chekov looks up. Warp 8? Regulations usually keep ships below warp 7 unless there is a severe emergency --

Mr. Scott is grinning, too. 'Shouldn't be a problem.'

The Captain cocks his head. '8.5?'

'This ship's new enough and we're in clean enough space that if you were wanting to go that fast, well, yes,' Mr. Scott says, starting to look a bit dubious.

Chekov looks up in time to see the Captain laugh. 'How about 9.5, Scotty?'

'Captain!' Chekov feels the sudden and overwhelming need to hold the core close to protect her. It. Yes.

'What?' the Captain asks, patting the reactor as though it is an old friend (some part of Chekov screams that the Captain probably didn't even major in Warp Technology! Was this right?!). 'We've got nothing to do for the next god knows how long, this corridor is so empty that a meteor field would be a welcome distraction, and you've got the biggest brains and the fastest engine anywhere in this sector, and I bet you're as bored as I am. Am I wrong?'

'W-ell,' Mr. Scott says.

'Great.' the Captain pounces. 'Make some magic with the schematics. I've got to go back up before the pointy eared one comes after me, but I'll see you guys in my ready room at dinner, okay? Bye!' And he's gone.

'Um,' Chekov says, staring at Mr. Scott with his eyes very, very wide. 'I. Warp 9.5?'

'You know, I really like this ship.' Mr. Scott rubs his hands together. 'It's really exciting.'
2nd-Jun-2009 12:43 pm (UTC)
EXCELLENT! Oh, Chekov and his love of the engines :)
2nd-Jun-2009 01:15 pm (UTC)
SD:LGKH:ALSKFJL:SGL:KSHDL:FK !!!!!!!! &hearts &hearts

*\o/* GLEE.
2nd-Jun-2009 01:32 pm (UTC)
OMG ROFL~~~~~ is this still a wip or is this done? either way it still TOTALLY ROCKS.
3rd-Jun-2009 12:22 pm (UTC)
It's still a WIP! :D :D
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