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A Thousand Words; Writing Challenge #01
Topic Started: Thu Oct 25, 2012 7:19 am (900 Views)
jespah
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Published Sentient Marsupial Canid

Well, all righty then! Give it up for the writers! W00t! W00t! :confetti: :dewleaf:

This is a writing challenge. There are no winners, there are no losers. We are here to support one another, and help make each other better.

This one (hopefully we'll do others; it'll depend on the interest/response level plus how busy I am) is going to revolve around images.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. Therefore, I will post an image from each of the series, and one from the JJ Abrams film. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to write about one of the images. The character could be in your story. It could be a prequel or a sequel. Maybe the image is artwork in a museum or a communications message or a family portrait or whatever. Your choice, long as it's Trek!

Word limit - well, look at the title! A thousand words. Less is fine; a little more is fine, too. I'm not going to be running around with a yardstick or anything. But no 8,000 word behemoths, please.

Add a story as many times as you like, for as many of the images you like. If everyone writes about the same image, that's fine, too.

Remember - don't edit to death. Just write.

ENT - this is Loomis from the Carpenter Street episode.
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TOS - this is Ruth Bonaventure (without makeup or the Venus drug) from the Mudd's Women episode.
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TNG - this is Leah Brahms from the Galaxy's Child episode.
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DS9 - this is Elim Garak in an episode called The Wire.
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VOY - this is Harry Kim with a genetically altered Lindsay Ballard, in the Ashes to Ashes episode.
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JJA - this is George Kirk in the JJ Abrams film.
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TAS - M'Ress and Scotty from the Mudd's Passion episode.
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Have fun!!
Once Ixalla was ready, Tathrelle cornered her. “Before we leave for work, I just want to tell you, I’m sorry. I guess I sort of shut down last night. I know you were in pain and I wasn’t too terribly supportive.” There was a wall covering in the main part of their chamber, something that Tathrelle hadn’t noticed before. She stared at it for a second and then shook her head.

Outside, a disembodied voice announced from a hidden speaker, “It is time to travel to all daytime places of employment. Transportation sleighs are available and ready. Citizens are encouraged to thank the sleigh drivers at the end of a successful transport. The government recommends haste, and requests that all pregnant persons be given preference for seating in their designated areas.”

A little distracted, Ixalla just asked, “Pain?”

Untrustworthy - by me, actually. It's for sale on Amazon
- Yeah, I'm a published author
jespah
My author page on Facebook
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ReedEnterprise
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OH I like this one. Very different from the others I have done :)
"Reed Alert, that's not bad".....Malcolm Reed
tIqjaj yInlIj 'ej bIchepjaj LL&P in Klingon
"I am Mork from Ork. NaNu NaNu"


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wissaboo
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JK1701
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KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!!!!

I already have an idea!
Ah, Kirk, my old friend. Do you know the Klingon proverb which tells us revenge is a dish that is best served cold? It's very cold.......in spaaaace.


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I think I do too
"Reed Alert, that's not bad".....Malcolm Reed
tIqjaj yInlIj 'ej bIchepjaj LL&P in Klingon
"I am Mork from Ork. NaNu NaNu"


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jespah
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Oh, awesome.

The fluffy heart sings (well, it howls, but bear with me)!
Once Ixalla was ready, Tathrelle cornered her. “Before we leave for work, I just want to tell you, I’m sorry. I guess I sort of shut down last night. I know you were in pain and I wasn’t too terribly supportive.” There was a wall covering in the main part of their chamber, something that Tathrelle hadn’t noticed before. She stared at it for a second and then shook her head.

Outside, a disembodied voice announced from a hidden speaker, “It is time to travel to all daytime places of employment. Transportation sleighs are available and ready. Citizens are encouraged to thank the sleigh drivers at the end of a successful transport. The government recommends haste, and requests that all pregnant persons be given preference for seating in their designated areas.”

A little distracted, Ixalla just asked, “Pain?”

Untrustworthy - by me, actually. It's for sale on Amazon
- Yeah, I'm a published author
jespah
My author page on Facebook
Author of Untrustworthy



Posted Image Posted Image I blog about Startrek fanfiction..

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jespah
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Detroit Rock City

Get up
Everybody's gonna move their feet
Get down
Everybody's gonna leave their seat
You gotta lose your mind in Detroit Rock City


=/\=

For Leland Loomis, every day was getting to be the same old, same old.

He'd get up. They'd hustle him into the medication line. He'd wait, and chat with the others.

There was Allison. She had been cutting herself when they'd brought her in. Dave swore up and down that the world was going to end in '08, and why the hell didn't anybody believe him?! Time was a-wastin'! Lakeisha was a real dish, a honey. But she heard voices, and those voices had convinced her to strangle her newborn baby. He stayed away from Lakeisha, although he figured he wouldn't mind if, you know, she wanted to do the nasty in the broom closet.

But he wasn't near any of them in the line. Instead, he was near Ogden - nobody really knew Ogden's name, except he had had a bus ticket on him when he'd been brought in, and the ticket was to go from Ogden, Utah to Detroit. In 1976.

His other line-mate was Phyllis, who claimed to be from Titan and was the only one who seemed to believe him. Of course Phyllis was nuts - everybody there was, Leland figured - but at least she was nice. It was a pity about her being nearly seventy. Then again, the broom closet was kinda dark.

He shuffled along and sighed. Would this be the day that someone with more mental capacity than Phyllis would actually give some credence to what he had witnessed back in '04? He retied the sash on his ratty old maroon-colored bathrobe.

A new doctor was touring the facility. "What have we here?" he asked. He was an older fellow, British and thin, with a face that was mostly nose. A name tag on his white coat said Morgan.

"I'm sane, Doc," Leland said to him.

"And you are?"

"Leland Loomis. I live and work on Carpenter Street."

"Ah, hmm, yes, I read your chart," said Morgan, "It was a year ago - you were brought in by the police, talking about, let's see, what was it again?"

"There were lizard people. And there was a quiet veggie chick and a guy with a ray gun. Really!"

"How very curious. Mister Loomis, you do realize that your ravings made it so that you could be sent here, and not to the State Penitentiary? Are you, perhaps, pretending to persist in your delusions in order to continue residing here?" He waved a hand, almost magnanimously. "We have such fine amenities here." His sweeping gesture encompassed the medication table where there were male nurses distributing the goodies, and even Lakeisha, who was in Dave's face a little too much and talking about something to do with Hollywood calling. "If I didn't know any better, I would swear that you were faking it. After all, I don't imagine there are such delights to be had in the State Pen."

"I'm not faking it. And Christ on a cracker, man, I am not nutso! It's real!"

"Then if you are not insane, Mister Loomis, you should be on trial for kidnapping and murder, right? Remember all those people from the Blood Bank? Instead, you were found incompetent to stand trial. Now, there are only two ways things can be. One is the status quo ante. You stay here, secure in your delusions. The other is that you are found competent and you stand trial. There's plenty of evidence against you, I understand. They'd have you dead to rights. So then you'd head to the State Pen where the lovely Phyllis does not reside, and you can trade thorazine for a shiv. There is no middle ground - no way whereby your, uh, observations can be found to be true. You will not be set free and have a medal pinned to your chest. Which do you prefer, here or the penitentiary, sir?"

Leland had gotten to the front of the line. "Loomis, Leland," he said to a male nurse, showing the plastic hospital bracelet that was around his wrist. The bar code on the bracelet was scanned. He was given a shallow paper cup with a solitary orange tablet in it. Imprinted on the tablet was SKF T79, just like it always had.

He shuffled over to the second line, which was for water. That line was considerably shorter. Another male nurse handed him a second paper cup - this one was a tiny bit less shallow. The nurse watched closely as Leland showed him the orange pill being put on his tongue and then the water being swallowed. Then Leland opened his mouth as the nurse looked in with a small penlight. "Okay, you're good to go," said the nurse.

The medication hadn't quite kicked in - that didn't happen immediately. Leland went over to Morgan. "This is the only choice that makes any sense, Doc." He was near Phyllis and put an arm around her. "Will ya excuse me and my girl now?"

"Yes, yes, of course," said Morgan. Before he left for the day, he went over the patients' charts again, and lingered on that of one Leland Loomis. "Lizard people, eh? It must have been rather frightening. No wonder you'd prefer retreating into a medicated haze."

=/\=

You gotta lose your mind in Detroit Rock City

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Once Ixalla was ready, Tathrelle cornered her. “Before we leave for work, I just want to tell you, I’m sorry. I guess I sort of shut down last night. I know you were in pain and I wasn’t too terribly supportive.” There was a wall covering in the main part of their chamber, something that Tathrelle hadn’t noticed before. She stared at it for a second and then shook her head.

Outside, a disembodied voice announced from a hidden speaker, “It is time to travel to all daytime places of employment. Transportation sleighs are available and ready. Citizens are encouraged to thank the sleigh drivers at the end of a successful transport. The government recommends haste, and requests that all pregnant persons be given preference for seating in their designated areas.”

A little distracted, Ixalla just asked, “Pain?”

Untrustworthy - by me, actually. It's for sale on Amazon
- Yeah, I'm a published author
jespah
My author page on Facebook
Author of Untrustworthy



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JK1701
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KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!!!!

Nice one, Jespah. Here's mine:

Loomis

He sat at the bar, absently stirring the ice around in his drink. He stared blankly at the wall, seemingly ignoring those around him, his eyes blank. He appeared to be like every other person who had entered the establishment with a heavy burden, seeking relief in a bottle. That was, of course, his plan.
His target sat at a corner table with a lady, most likely the mistress, since his file showed he was married and his wife was almost 40. This girl couldn’t have been more than 20. The target signaled the waiter for another round and pulled the girl (hardly old enough to be referred to as a woman) a little closer and whispered in her ear. She giggled, clearly flattered or aroused by whatever the target had just whispered to her.
He slipped his hand into his pocket and fingered the syringe for the thousandth time. Yes, it was still there. Yes, it was loaded with sedative to knock the target unconscious. No, he hadn’t miscalculated the dosage. He brought his hand back to the bar, lifting his glass to his mouth and taking a long pull of the whiskey.
His name was Alexander Loomis. He worked at the Helping Hearts Blood Bank, making minimum wage, receiving minimum attention, and living a minimum lifestyle. He lived in a ramshackle apartment in one of the worst parts of Detroit, an apartment that always seemed one step away from being condemned by the health department. His clothes were ratty, except for the ones he wore to work, and that was only because he was required to look nice at the office. His prospects were low, his goals lower still. He was stuck in the rut that life had placed him in with no idea how to get out.
Until the phone call.
It was two in the morning when the phone rang. He stumbled from his bed and made his way into the kitchen, where he had left his phone the night before. He didn’t recognize the number and was about to hit ignore when his curiosity got the better of him. He hit answer.
“Hello?”
“Are you Loomis?” a voice asked.
“Yes, who is this?” he replied groggily.
“My name is not important, but the group I represent is. We know you work at a blood bank, and we know your bank account is….lacking. We need your assistance with a project we’re working on. And we are more than willing to compensate you for your trouble.”
Loomis’ ears perked up at the word ‘compensate’. He had never considered himself to be a greedy man, but he had also never been able to pass up an opportunity to line his pocket with some extra money.
“My first question is how much?” he asked.
“$80,000” the voice replied.
“My next question it what’s the job?”
“We require samples from all 8 of your sp-….of the existing blood types.” The voice said. “Fresh samples.”
Loomis couldn’t believe his ears. Eighty thousand dollars just to smuggle some blood samples out of the blood bank? Child’s play!
“I can have them for you by tomorrow.” Loomis assured the voice. “Shouldn’t have any trouble getting them out of the cooler at the office.”
The voice let out a small chuckle. “You misunderstand me. We don’t want stored specimens. Our work requires them to be….fresh, if you take my meaning.”
Fresh? As in freshly drawn? But that would mean….
Understanding flooded through Loomis’ mind. They wanted him to kidnap people for them! He’d never kidnapped anyone in his life, had never considered it. He wanted money, but this was a little bit much.
“I don’t know….” he began.
“Make it one hundred thousand.” The voice said. “Money means little to us. Results do. And, if you are timely in your delivery, there just may be some bonuses thrown in.”
Loomis was practically salivating now. One hundred thousand plus?! His mind raced with the possibilities. New apartment, better car, women.
“I’ll do it!” he blurted out almost without thinking. “How quickly do you need them?”
“As soon as possible. But I warn you. If you fail us, you will not live to regret it. Is that clear?”
Loomis said that is was and he ended the call. He hadn’t been able to go back to sleep that night for thinking about the money. It wasn’t until the next day that his mind finally hit upon the ultimate problem. How do I pull this off?
Now, one week, a few file pulls, and some stolen sedative later, he sat trying not to stare at his first victim. The target (that’s how he thought of the man. He had decided it wouldn’t do to get too acquainted with the person as a person) was 47 years old and a fairly small man. Loomis wasn’t strong by any means, but he was sure that if it came down to it, he could take the man down the hard way without much of a problem. All he needed was the opportunity.
Taking the girl’s hand, the target stood and helped her up from her chair. After placing money on the table for the bill, they made their way toward the door. Loomis waited until they exited before he got up and followed them.
As he exited the building, he saw them pull away in the target’s car. He ran to his station wagon, fired it up, and followed a safe distance behind. They eventually ended up across town at a small motel. Loomis parked across the street and watched as they went up the stairs and entered one of the rooms. He checked his watch. 9:30. Unless the target’s wife was out of town, he wouldn’t be able to stay but a short while and he would have to get home before she got suspicious. That didn’t leave him much time.
Once the target and his woman were safely inside the room, Loomis pulled into the parking lot and parked in the space next to the target’s car. Making sure no one was watching, he got out of his car and, kneeling down as if he were tying his shoe, he removed a knife from his pocket and sliced the front tire on the target’s car. Then he stood, again making sure no one was looking, and eased around the corner of the motel, finding a place to wait where he would be out of sight but still able to see the target’s room.
An hour later, he watched the target exit the room, kiss his mistress one last time, then head down the stairs. She closed the door behind the target, and Loomis eased from his hiding place. He reached the front of his car just in time to hear the target curse.
“Can I help you?” he said, coming around to stand beside the target.
“Only if you got a tire to spare!” the target spat. “Somebody slashed my tire and my spare has been bad for weeks.”
This was a stroke of luck Loomis hadn’t counted on. He had been trying to work out how to get the target in his car, but this made things a whole lot easier.
“This is my car right here. I was just about to run to a store for some beer. I can give you a lift somewhere if you need it.”
“I’d appreciate,” the target said gratefully.
Loomis unlocked his car and the two men got in. As he started the car and backed from the parking space, Loomis grinned to himself. This was going to be the easiest money he’d ever made!
Ah, Kirk, my old friend. Do you know the Klingon proverb which tells us revenge is a dish that is best served cold? It's very cold.......in spaaaace.


:JK1701:

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wissaboo
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wow, you guys are fast
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jespah
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Eek, Evil S! I think we caught the two bookends of the ugly life of Loomis.
Once Ixalla was ready, Tathrelle cornered her. “Before we leave for work, I just want to tell you, I’m sorry. I guess I sort of shut down last night. I know you were in pain and I wasn’t too terribly supportive.” There was a wall covering in the main part of their chamber, something that Tathrelle hadn’t noticed before. She stared at it for a second and then shook her head.

Outside, a disembodied voice announced from a hidden speaker, “It is time to travel to all daytime places of employment. Transportation sleighs are available and ready. Citizens are encouraged to thank the sleigh drivers at the end of a successful transport. The government recommends haste, and requests that all pregnant persons be given preference for seating in their designated areas.”

A little distracted, Ixalla just asked, “Pain?”

Untrustworthy - by me, actually. It's for sale on Amazon
- Yeah, I'm a published author
jespah
My author page on Facebook
Author of Untrustworthy



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JK1701
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KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!!!!

Hahaha When I started reading yours, I thought we had done the same story, but then when I got into it, I was like wow, that's pretty cool! Did they ever say his name in the episode or did you make up his first name, too? I couldn't find reference to it anywhere. Everything just said Loomis.
Ah, Kirk, my old friend. Do you know the Klingon proverb which tells us revenge is a dish that is best served cold? It's very cold.......in spaaaace.


:JK1701:

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jespah
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He doesn't have a canon first name that I can tell - I just used the actor's real first name.

I meant to tell you I really enjoyed yours, too. Slimy characters are often seriously inspiring, eh?
Once Ixalla was ready, Tathrelle cornered her. “Before we leave for work, I just want to tell you, I’m sorry. I guess I sort of shut down last night. I know you were in pain and I wasn’t too terribly supportive.” There was a wall covering in the main part of their chamber, something that Tathrelle hadn’t noticed before. She stared at it for a second and then shook her head.

Outside, a disembodied voice announced from a hidden speaker, “It is time to travel to all daytime places of employment. Transportation sleighs are available and ready. Citizens are encouraged to thank the sleigh drivers at the end of a successful transport. The government recommends haste, and requests that all pregnant persons be given preference for seating in their designated areas.”

A little distracted, Ixalla just asked, “Pain?”

Untrustworthy - by me, actually. It's for sale on Amazon
- Yeah, I'm a published author
jespah
My author page on Facebook
Author of Untrustworthy



Posted Image Posted Image I blog about Startrek fanfiction..

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spocklet
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Live long and prosper.....!!

*Dunks brain in a vat of rejuvenation fluid, until it shows signs of conscious thought !!*

Eh, what ?? (*reads title page*) Yeah, I'll get right on it.........*brain returns to semi-conscious condition !!*
R.I.P. Gummy, we'll miss you bro
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AWOLangel
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skin deep (inspired by the ruth bonaventure picture)

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All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.--Abraham Lincoln
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jespah
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Oooh - Ruth's origins story! It makes sense, too, that they'd all be leaving some sort of dull drudgery behind in order to go to the new (which isn't necessarily any better than what they're leaving). Well done.
Once Ixalla was ready, Tathrelle cornered her. “Before we leave for work, I just want to tell you, I’m sorry. I guess I sort of shut down last night. I know you were in pain and I wasn’t too terribly supportive.” There was a wall covering in the main part of their chamber, something that Tathrelle hadn’t noticed before. She stared at it for a second and then shook her head.

Outside, a disembodied voice announced from a hidden speaker, “It is time to travel to all daytime places of employment. Transportation sleighs are available and ready. Citizens are encouraged to thank the sleigh drivers at the end of a successful transport. The government recommends haste, and requests that all pregnant persons be given preference for seating in their designated areas.”

A little distracted, Ixalla just asked, “Pain?”

Untrustworthy - by me, actually. It's for sale on Amazon
- Yeah, I'm a published author
jespah
My author page on Facebook
Author of Untrustworthy



Posted Image Posted Image I blog about Startrek fanfiction..

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JK1701
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KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!!!!

jespah
Thu Oct 25, 2012 3:26 pm
He doesn't have a canon first name that I can tell - I just used the actor's real first name.

I meant to tell you I really enjoyed yours, too. Slimy characters are often seriously inspiring, eh?
Ok, I knew I couldn't find his first name anywhere. And thanks. It does seem easier to write about someone sleazy like that. Especially when it's a character that doesn't have much back story established. You can go anywhere with it.

Good one, Angel Of Death. :)
Ah, Kirk, my old friend. Do you know the Klingon proverb which tells us revenge is a dish that is best served cold? It's very cold.......in spaaaace.


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KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!!!!

Altar Of History

Winona rarely cried anymore when she looked at his picture. However, today the tears flowed like a spring rain in Iowa. She clutched the picture to her chest and cried, not bothering to fight back the pain and anguish she still carried.
Today would have been her and George Kirk's sixth wedding anniversary. Would have been, had it not been for a chance encounter with an unsually large Romulan ship. After the ship attacked and the autopilot failed, George had piloted the Kelvin on a collision course into it, saving the lives of the crew that had evacuated in the shuttles, but only at the cost of his own.
She hated him for it.
No, that's not true, she thought, shaking her head to clear her mind. I don't hate you, George. I miss you. More than you could possibly imagine.
As the tears continued to flow, her mind went back to the early days. To the day they met. George had been a lieutenant serving aboard the Kelvin. The ship had docked at Earth for some much needed repairs after a small border skirmish with the Klingons, who were trying to move in and take over some planets lining the Neutral Zone between the Federation and the Klingon Empire. George had decided to return to his hometown for shore leave.
She had been working at a local diner as a waitress. George and some friends came in one afternoon for lunch, laughing and having a good time with each other. As they took a seat at a booth, she grabbed some menus and went over. As she handed George his menu, there hands brushed. She looked into his face and their eyes locked.
From then on, it was the craziest week of her life. They went out that very night, and every night after. They went dancing, swimming, picnics, dinners. They made love in her apartment. Then he went back into space.
They kept in touch while he was gone. Subspace communications weren't always reliable, but she received a communique from him at least three times a week. The next time the ship was near Earth, George borrowed a shuttlecraft and surprised her by landing in the parking lot outside the diner, walking in, dropping to one knee, and proposing. They were married the following day.
For two years, she only saw him on occasion. Shore leaves (which only happened every six months) and messages. She finally had enough. When he was able to come home for their three year anniversary, she put her foot down. She would be returning to the ship with him. He had tried to argue, but he knew it was pointless. Starfleet had been slowly loosening the regulations about families aboard starships. It was rare, but not unheard of, and since he had just received his promotion to lieutenant commander and made first officer, he was ina position to make the request. So, he gave in. They spent the night in each other's arms and he had shipped out the next day. By the time the approvals came through and she went aboard ship, she was six months pregnant.
She hadn't got to see him as much as she expected to while on board. The position of first officer came with a lot of extra off-duty responsibilities, and it seemed like he was always busy with something. But she didn't dare complain. She was there, and that was enough.
Right up until the end.....
Winona lowered the picture back to where she could stare into George's eyes. Oh, how she missed him! So many memories had been lost when the Kelvin was destroyed. Pictures, log entries, videos. Sometimes it seemed like the only thing she had left of George was her broken heart.
Suddenly, a wail interrupted her thoughts. No, she thought to herself.There is one other thing.
She got to her feet. Drying her eyes, she replaced the picture on the bedside table, and moved to the crib on the other side of the room.
"Good morning, James," she said lovingly.
Ah, Kirk, my old friend. Do you know the Klingon proverb which tells us revenge is a dish that is best served cold? It's very cold.......in spaaaace.


:JK1701:

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JK1701
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KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!!!!

Not as good or well thought out as my first one, but I had to do this one a little faster.
Ah, Kirk, my old friend. Do you know the Klingon proverb which tells us revenge is a dish that is best served cold? It's very cold.......in spaaaace.


:JK1701:

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jespah
Fri Oct 26, 2012 5:49 am
Oooh - Ruth's origins story! It makes sense, too, that they'd all be leaving some sort of dull drudgery behind in order to go to the new (which isn't necessarily any better than what they're leaving). Well done.
:thankyou:
All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.--Abraham Lincoln
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EvilSpock
Fri Oct 26, 2012 6:55 am
Good one, Angel Of Death. :)
thank you.
i like yours and jespah's too.
All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.--Abraham Lincoln
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