Wesley lives in fanfiction now. The eternal space cadet, he bounced from adventure to adventure, full of good spirit and energy. Until he hit 27. Star Fleet was falling on hard times by then. It seems man had gone everywhere where no man had gone before. Also, the funny colored, squiggly headed aliens were all either in line with the Federation plan, and happily screwing the latest uber-chin lead actor, or were safely annihilated by ray-gun fire and antimatter warheads.
Wesley was sitting in the pilot's chair, beaming as usual, when the papers came through telling him that his commission was up, and Starfleet would not require his service any longer. He refused to stop beaming. It must be a joke, right? Starfleet would NEVER get rid of him.
Well, yes, they would, like the admiralty told him later. See, with the budget cuts they had people to preserve. The admiralty, or course, was not going to shrink one bit. Captains couldn't go, of course. Careening around known space with untold megatons of destructive power, it just wasn't SMART to give them the axe. That damned old James T. Kirk was still out there too. He was a loose cannon at the best of times, so best to just let him keep going on, no use risking him going rouge. Janeway probably got the best out of it. Her little "Lost in space" grift kept her crew in salary for seven years while they faked records of horrible alien encounters. (It turns out they parked the ship on the far side of Risa, and spent the whole time drunk on the beach. She was promoted to admiral just for having the gall and the smarts to pull it off.) Then there were senior commissioned officers with families to support too, but this was only, as always a secondary concern.
Everyone else who could be spared, and a few who couldn't, were out. Scotty was among them. Like so many hard working, highly specialized warp-drive experts, he was expensive to employ. He had seniority over most of the fleet too, but was still just a wrench flipper in the engine core. Expendable. A recruit with a hydrospanner and a flowchart could fix MOST of the common issues, and wouldn't have to be paid like he had a doctorate in warp field theory. (Never you mind the "safety incident" ratios increasing, or the replies of "Uh... that would violate procedure" to Kirk requesting more power.)
So young space cadet Crusher was out of a job. Unemployable too, as he soon found out. Well meaning and energetic honesty do not get one far. He tanked out of sales rep. gigs and spots selling Mini Sportshuttles. Yeah, honesty goes over WELL in those professions. He eventually landed doing data entry in a cubicle farm. He still dreamed of his glory days blasting through the stars, and never really found much to replace it. He took up writing, and spent every night on a bulletin board retconning his own departure form Starfleet. Him and Sisko, both cooking up self pleasing fictions about their dues ex machina exit from a galaxy that no longer wanted them, and into a world of wondrous adventure where they had destiny, and purpose, above all respected and appreciated for who they were, not where they ended up on the wrong level of the wrong totem pole.
Shit yeah.
I always wanted that little bastard to get the axe.
Fucking hell richter. You managed to make me feel bad for wesley. I thought that impossible. And no mention of buggery from the traveller either!
Quote from: Areola Shinerbock on January 06, 2012, 11:25:54 PM
Fucking hell richter. You managed to make me feel bad for wesley. I thought that impossible. And no mention of buggery from the traveller either!
Not me. This was the feel good piece of the week, in my book.
Good stuff, Richter. :lulz:
(I do, however, have to say that I liked Sisko.)
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on January 06, 2012, 11:28:30 PM
Quote from: Areola Shinerbock on January 06, 2012, 11:25:54 PM
Fucking hell richter. You managed to make me feel bad for wesley. I thought that impossible. And no mention of buggery from the traveller either!
Not me. This was the feel good piece of the week, in my book.
The little prick beemed and geniused his way into a pilot's chair that would make the careers of other officers, without evne goign through the Academy. Remember the Ensign he replaced? I don't either. This was a brat who could ride on natural talent, adolescent pushiness, and charm, he never HAD to develop any other skills, and that's what bit him in the ass. Golden children don't burn out, they fail to adapt.
Quote from: Areola Shinerbock on January 06, 2012, 11:25:54 PM
Fucking hell richter. You managed to make me feel bad for wesley. I thought that impossible. And no mention of buggery from the traveller either!
Yeah, none of this super-powered destiny bullcrap. If a bit of that was true Q would have popped him like a grape.
Quote from: Doktor Phoxero on January 06, 2012, 11:31:38 PM
Good stuff, Richter. :lulz:
(I do, however, have to say that I liked Sisko.)
So did I. He and Picard are tied for my favorite Captain.
Look at the reality though. He was a commander with servere loss issues at the time he got assigned to DS9. Also, at the time, the place was still a cosmic backwater. They trusted him to be diplomatic enough to play nice with Cardasians and Bajorans sure. They were minor players though. Notice how he never fucked up? Starfleet command was WAITING for that, an excuse to swap him out for a heavy hitter. It would make sense they never forgave him for not giving them a reason.
Quote from: Richter on January 06, 2012, 11:39:18 PM
Quote from: Doktor Phoxero on January 06, 2012, 11:31:38 PM
Good stuff, Richter. :lulz:
(I do, however, have to say that I liked Sisko.)
So did I. He and Picard are tied for my favorite Captain.
Look at the reality though. He was a commander with servere loss issues at the time he got assigned to DS9. Also, at the time, the place was still a cosmic backwater. They trusted him to be diplomatic enough to play nice with Cardasians and Bajorans sure. They were minor players though. Notice how he never fucked up? Starfleet command was WAITING for that, an excuse to swap him out for a heavy hitter. It would make sense they never forgave him for not giving them a reason.
Oh, I totally get where you're coming from with that. And we totally have the same taste in captains. Well, and I have to throw in Sulu.
:x
Quote from: Doktor Phoxero on January 06, 2012, 11:49:14 PM
Quote from: Richter on January 06, 2012, 11:39:18 PM
Quote from: Doktor Phoxero on January 06, 2012, 11:31:38 PM
Good stuff, Richter. :lulz:
(I do, however, have to say that I liked Sisko.)
So did I. He and Picard are tied for my favorite Captain.
Look at the reality though. He was a commander with servere loss issues at the time he got assigned to DS9. Also, at the time, the place was still a cosmic backwater. They trusted him to be diplomatic enough to play nice with Cardasians and Bajorans sure. They were minor players though. Notice how he never fucked up? Starfleet command was WAITING for that, an excuse to swap him out for a heavy hitter. It would make sense they never forgave him for not giving them a reason.
Oh, I totally get where you're coming from with that. And we totally have the same taste in captains. Well, and I have to throw in Sulu.
George Takei said somewhere that he was often disappointed in how little Sulu got to really stand out. He was the pilot of the ship, when someone put the pedal to the metal in the Enterprise it was HIM, but it was never a glamor role. This was not the age of the hotrod road trip, the fighter jet, or the mad max motorcycle. It was, honestly, more tall ships and dreadnaughts. The tactical genius happens in speed chess behind the captains eyeballs, the daring and exploration is how far HE is willing to push his ship, and how far his navigator is willing to risk margin of error. Sulu's strength was doing it reserve and competence. HE was never one for swagger, but the roguish smirk would always sneak out regardless, even when he was in the captain's chair himself. Pirates wear uniforms too, sometimes.
Picard and Sisko weren't exactly the SAME "Captain", but they were two sides of the same idea. Left and right brain maybe? What Picard would do with classics and skill, Sisko would do with a sort of effortless wisdom.
Riker knew when to grow a beard, but Sisko and Picard knew how to be bald in STYLE.
Quote from: Richter on January 07, 2012, 04:23:07 AM
Quote from: Doktor Phoxero on January 06, 2012, 11:49:14 PM
Quote from: Richter on January 06, 2012, 11:39:18 PM
Quote from: Doktor Phoxero on January 06, 2012, 11:31:38 PM
Good stuff, Richter. :lulz:
(I do, however, have to say that I liked Sisko.)
So did I. He and Picard are tied for my favorite Captain.
Look at the reality though. He was a commander with servere loss issues at the time he got assigned to DS9. Also, at the time, the place was still a cosmic backwater. They trusted him to be diplomatic enough to play nice with Cardasians and Bajorans sure. They were minor players though. Notice how he never fucked up? Starfleet command was WAITING for that, an excuse to swap him out for a heavy hitter. It would make sense they never forgave him for not giving them a reason.
Oh, I totally get where you're coming from with that. And we totally have the same taste in captains. Well, and I have to throw in Sulu.
George Takei said somewhere that he was often disappointed in how little Sulu got to really stand out. He was the pilot of the ship, when someone put the pedal to the metal in the Enterprise it was HIM, but it was never a glamor role. This was not the age of the hotrod road trip, the fighter jet, or the mad max motorcycle. It was, honestly, more tall ships and dreadnaughts. The tactical genius happens in speed chess behind the captains eyeballs, the daring and exploration is how far HE is willing to push his ship, and how far his navigator is willing to risk margin of error. Sulu's strength was doing it reserve and competence. HE was never one for swagger, but the roguish smirk would always sneak out regardless, even when he was in the captain's chair himself. Pirates wear uniforms too, sometimes.
Picard and Sisko weren't exactly the SAME "Captain", but they were two sides of the same idea. Left and right brain maybe? What Picard would do with classics and skill, Sisko would do with a sort of effortless wisdom.
Riker knew when to grow a beard, but Sisko and Picard knew how to be bald in STYLE.
That beard....
"Fake it 'til you make it," Riker always secretly thought. He faked his way through school, the Academy, and the ranks. He couldn't fake it hard enough to keep Diana, (nt until he made it anyway), but he figured it was just a matter of practice. All the women, the successful trips off ship, even successfully not getting killed, all of that was him faking it.
One day, chatting up one of the Enterprises' passengers, he realized he was TIRED. Bone weary, even. He politely excused himself from the woman, who was already eating out of the palm of his hand (a couple more hours of working his charm would see her agreeing to do the things which got him his jollies, always make them swear to keep it secret later), and relaxed in his quarters instead of Ten Forward.
He tried to read, or play some trombone musac, but he was just too distracted. He was bombarded with questions, such as "What the hell was I doing?" and "Am I really happy?" He tried to ignore them for weeks, but eventually, after a Romulan Ale binge and waking up in bed with three betentacled prostitutes, he sat down with himself and took a long, hard look at his life.
A month later, having pledged to not womanize so much (he still did, but only out of spontaneity, and that hardly counts, rite?), and maybe chase Diana again, he had The Beard.
"I made it, Ma. I finally made it."
I am not sure if you guys are destroying my childhood or enhancing it.
And Sulu was a freaking badass. Just watch the episode when they all get space drunk and he is running around accosting people with a foil.
I thought Deanna Troi was Riker's beard! All the years of pretending to chase this silly space slut were just a front for the manlove he nursed for Jean-Luc.
The Troi thing was wearing thinner than Picard's hair was by the time the face fuzz appeared. Troi was quick enough to jump the bones of any Diplomatic envoy the Enterprise had to taxi around Fed Space, yet Riker, for all his charm and bluster, managed to 'lose' Deanna to Worf of all people.
As to whether Riker ever got his furrow ploughed by Cock-head Picard? I'll leave that to the imagination of fan-fic fantasists.
As to how easy Troi really was, I'll just cite this incident in the Turbo lift as testament.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9z46_8EkC3g
Quote from: Don Coyote on January 07, 2012, 01:28:40 PM
I am not sure if you guys are destroying my childhood or enhancing it.
And Sulu was a freaking badass. Just watch the episode when they all get space drunk and he is running around accosting people with a foil.
That episode was also awesome for Spock making a joke, at Sulu's expense
Quote from: Spock
Get D'Artagnon off the bridge!
"Fire photon torpedoes!"
The Enterprise was rocked with another disruptor blast from the Romulan Bird of Prey. And again.
"MR. WORF!!! FIRE PHOTON TORPEDOES!!!"
Worf snapped out of his daze and and fired the torpedoes. Normally a Klingon would be alert and maybe a bit gleeful in a time like this. Worf silently chided himself for getting caught up in his thoughts instead of focusing on the battle. The Romulan vessel eventually cloaked and scampered back across the neutral zone. Picard asked him what happened. Worf made some excuse about hitting his head in a sensitive spot on his ridges which temporarily stunned him. He brushed off suggestions of going to sick bay.
After his shift he returned to his quarters. I'm slipping, he thought and then proceeded to do some baatleth katas until he ended up smashing a lot of stuff in a fit of rage, including his statue of Kahless and Molor striving against each other. He sat down and pulled from his stash of vodka, and chased it with prune juice.
There were a lot of empty vodka bottles under his bed lately.
He thought about how the other Klingons looked down on him. Not because he was a p'takh, but because he was actually a Belarussian pretending to be a Klingon. It had been difficult for him growing up in the reconstituted Soviet Union, going to school in Minsk surrounded by a bunch of utopian commies concerned with science and exploration. A yearning for Qo'Nos pumped in his veins. So he embraced what it meant to be a Klingon, and became as much of a Klingon warrior as he could--from a Federation perspective tied in with the times, of course. Stoic, loyal, honorable, ready to fight at a moment's notice. But he knew deep down that it was all fake, that he was aping the customs, just like Lt. Riley's fake Irishness when he took over engineering on the original Enterprise. Klingons weren't actually stoic in the slightest. They took a psychotic glee in everything, including dying. The problem was the Worf just wasn't crazy enough. He'd never been brought up that way. So instead, when he was taken with one of his frequent violent fits totally unacceptable in a Starfleet officer, it was always a moody, frustrated sort. Even when he bragged that Federation women wouldn't be able to handle his sexual prowess, he ended up dating them anyway, and they didn't seem to have any injuries after.
Worf just wanted to be a Klingon. And deep down, he knew he'd always be a Terran. He would try to do better with Alexander. He was an annoying kid, but he shows potential.
Worf woke up from this dream in his lonely house outside of Minsk in a sweat. He puked into a bucked and then slugged down some more vodka to stop his shaking. He was older than he thought he was and had retired from Starfleet. Alexander had died 5 years ago in some sort of duel over honor. Worf pretended to be proud that his son died in combat, kept telling himself that he was now in Sto-Vo-Kor. But he didn't really believe it. He felt guilt, he was the one who pressured Alexander into thinking that a father's love and pride came out of some allegiance to a culture that they never quite fit in. He never said it outright, but that's what Alexander was lead to believe. It was his fault that Alexander never got some worthwhile job on Earth and instead went looking for action, and eventually, death.
Worf was never quite the same after that.
WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO MR WORF!!!?!?!?!?!! IT'S NOT HIS FAULT!!!!!!!!!!!!! :cry:
QuoteStar Trek 11: What happened to Wesley Crusher
At first I was all :argh!: at the bolded bits
and then I read the posts ITT and I became :horrormirth: instead.
Quote from: Don Coyote on January 07, 2012, 06:47:15 PM
WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO MR WORF!!!?!?!?!?!! IT'S NOT HIS FAULT!!!!!!!!!!!!! :cry:
Of course not. But Worf is a very complex character. Really it's Alexander's fault for being foolish. He always said as a child that he didn't want to be a warrior, much to Worf's disappointment. Alexander naturally picked up on this, and being a moody fellow himself wished to make his father proud. Worf would have been just as happy if Alexander became a transporter chief on a starbase, but he never would have told Alexander that. And Alexander never bothered to ask.
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on January 06, 2012, 11:21:19 PM
Shit yeah.
I always wanted that little bastard to get the axe.
So did the actor who has to play him :lol: Apparently he got a lot of hate at Star Trek cons.
Quote from: Areola Shinerbock on January 07, 2012, 05:38:09 PM
"Fire photon torpedoes!"
The Enterprise was rocked with another disruptor blast from the Romulan Bird of Prey. And again.
"MR. WORF!!! FIRE PHOTON TORPEDOES!!!"
Worf snapped out of his daze and and fired the torpedoes. Normally a Klingon would be alert and maybe a bit gleeful in a time like this. Worf silently chided himself for getting caught up in his thoughts instead of focusing on the battle. The Romulan vessel eventually cloaked and scampered back across the neutral zone. Picard asked him what happened. Worf made some excuse about hitting his head in a sensitive spot on his ridges which temporarily stunned him. He brushed off suggestions of going to sick bay.
After his shift he returned to his quarters. I'm slipping, he thought and then proceeded to do some baatleth katas until he ended up smashing a lot of stuff in a fit of rage, including his statue of Kahless and Molor striving against each other. He sat down and pulled from his stash of vodka, and chased it with prune juice.
There were a lot of empty vodka bottles under his bed lately.
He thought about how the other Klingons looked down on him. Not because he was a p'takh, but because he was actually a Belarussian pretending to be a Klingon. It had been difficult for him growing up in the reconstituted Soviet Union, going to school in Minsk surrounded by a bunch of utopian commies concerned with science and exploration. A yearning for Qo'Nos pumped in his veins. So he embraced what it meant to be a Klingon, and became as much of a Klingon warrior as he could--from a Federation perspective tied in with the times, of course. Stoic, loyal, honorable, ready to fight at a moment's notice. But he knew deep down that it was all fake, that he was aping the customs, just like Lt. Riley's fake Irishness when he took over engineering on the original Enterprise. Klingons weren't actually stoic in the slightest. They took a psychotic glee in everything, including dying. The problem was the Worf just wasn't crazy enough. He'd never been brought up that way. So instead, when he was taken with one of his frequent violent fits totally unacceptable in a Starfleet officer, it was always a moody, frustrated sort. Even when he bragged that Federation women wouldn't be able to handle his sexual prowess, he ended up dating them anyway, and they didn't seem to have any injuries after.
Worf just wanted to be a Klingon. And deep down, he knew he'd always be a Terran. He would try to do better with Alexander. He was an annoying kid, but he shows potential.
Worf woke up from this dream in his lonely house outside of Minsk in a sweat. He puked into a bucked and then slugged down some more vodka to stop his shaking. He was older than he thought he was and had retired from Starfleet. Alexander had died 5 years ago in some sort of duel over honor. Worf pretended to be proud that his son died in combat, kept telling himself that he was now in Sto-Vo-Kor. But he didn't really believe it. He felt guilt, he was the one who pressured Alexander into thinking that a father's love and pride came out of some allegiance to a culture that they never quite fit in. He never said it outright, but that's what Alexander was lead to believe. It was his fault that Alexander never got some worthwhile job on Earth and instead went looking for action, and eventually, death.
Worf was never quite the same after that.
This. Horrible, depressing, and less than he deserved. Perfect.
Wow. :mittens:
Hey maybe we should repost this on a Star Trek fanfiction forum? Especially the Worf story :lulz:
Question, as I'm not big enough of a ST fan to know these details, I knew Worf was raised by human parents, but is the part of him having grown up in Belarus true/canon as well? Just wondering.
Quote from: Triple Zero on January 08, 2012, 05:09:40 PM
Wow. :mittens:
Hey maybe we should repost this on a Star Trek fanfiction forum? Especially the Worf story :lulz:
Question, as I'm not big enough of a ST fan to know these details, I knew Worf was raised by human parents, but is the part of him having grown up in Belarus true/canon as well? Just wondering.
Yes-
His parents' last name was Rozhenko, he was mentioned as having grown up in Belarus, and in one episode he recommended to someone while the Enterprise was at Earth for maintenance that someone should visit Minsk, as it was his favorite city.
The Soviet Union bit is also canon, as no one expected the USSR to collapse, and a Russian vessel was said to have been built in the USSR.
Quote from: Triple Zero on January 08, 2012, 05:09:40 PM
Wow. :mittens:
Hey maybe we should repost this on a Star Trek fanfiction forum? Especially the Worf story :lulz:
Question, as I'm not big enough of a ST fan to know these details, I knew Worf was raised by human parents, but is the part of him having grown up in Belarus true/canon as well? Just wondering.
Yes. He was adopted by couple of Belarussian Peasants. So his real name should be Commander Chernenkov, not Worf. If the abomination that is his forehead was put down to Chernobyl radiation, he need never have even known that he was a Klingon. Just an ugly bastard.
:lulz:
Ah, Trip, here's the official entry at nerdpedia:
http://en.memory-alpha.org/wiki/Worf
Floating. Floating. Floatingfloatingfloating MOTHERFUCKING FLOATING.
Q was bored. He'd been bored for.... well, fuck. He couldn't rightly remember. Didn't matter as time was essentially meaningless now, in any sense or measurement.
A long time ago his kind got a little too intrigued with this weird species known as humans. Not the Federation. No, not Vulcans, those cold and logical pointy eared fucks, or those goddamn Andorians and their silly antennae, nor those pig-like Tellarites. Nope. None of those other Johnny-come-latelies that entered the Federation a bit late either.
A bit late was a long time ago. A very long time ago.
See, humanity for some..... inexplicable and counterintuitive reason was some how special. More special than the rest. And the Q never quite put their finger on it. Only that they had the potential to be the Q also, somewhere down the line.
Did they end up doing it? Did they make it?
Q couldn't remember. He had trouble even recalling what he was called, or even language. None of his thoughts are coherent words. Just... Images... He strained. Peeeeeeeecaaaaaaaaard. Picard.... He was.... special.... special among the special ones....
None of that mattered. Picard died long ago. The Federation, practically a wink after that, but not from their reckoning of time. Their star long ago destroyed their homeworld, the unlikely heart of the Federation. Their galaxy, long ago merged with another.
And then the stars.... they winked out. Time passed and after a while, it was all just red dwarves, white dwarves, and black holes. Then even those burned out and died. Even the Continuum was gone. Q helped strip ever last one of them of their immortality and let them die as mortals. There was nothing left for them. Only problem was that there had to be one left. A Captain to go down with the ship. It made his own old incarnation, a mock Starfleet Captain, all the more ironic. In fact, Q was wearing his 24th Century Starfleet uniform with 4 neat pips at the neck right now. Couldn't bear to change it. Seemed to torture him in all the satisfying ways. And he was all that was left in the universe, save for scattered particles that almost never interacted with each other. Well, maybe an odd black hole here or there.
And here's that worst part. He was immortal, but somehow all of his power left him. Maybe he just didn't have the will anymore to make anything happen. He, who had been a god in all but worship, floated through trillions of what used to be years in the void. He wished he could die like every last motherfucking thing had.
But wait.... he felt something.... a strong, very strong pull. Ah, he thought, one of those rare black holes that will also eventually disintegrate into nothing. Here is my chance. Maybe now even I can die.
He fell into the event horizon. He stretched, and stretched, and ssssssstttttrrrreeeeeeeettttttttcccccccchhhhhhhhheeeeeeeedddddddd, a scene that would have made..... what was his name..... Neil...... DeGrasse....... Tyson.... laugh at the spaghettification. Time slowed. No matter. He'd be dead blessedly sooner even with the weird time warping than he had experienced. Maybe even Picard's scattered quarks are lost in here.
After what seemed liked eons, what was eons in the stretching of time in the black hole, a new horror came upon Q, and everything was put into a perspective he didn't really consider before. And he knew he was fucked for good.
When he hit the singularity, he didn't die. Oh no. He disrupted it, and in one Planck time, the whole fucking thing burst into something else. It burst outward with the force of trillions of suns. Burst forth in a space that was a new universe. And he remained intact. He set off another Big Bang, perhaps much in the same way that whatever god created the one he was born into.
Except this time, there was no LET THERE BE LIGHT!
No.
In this new Universe, with its own for real full fledged Creator God with a capital G, began with the lament, "Oh, not fucking again!"
:lulz: That was great.
I used to fatasize about Wil Wheaton. Then I thought he was gay and I was like :cry:
Then, I found out the gay thing was a rumour and he was straight the whole time and is now married and I was really like :cry: because that meant I might've had a chance but missed it thinking he was teh ghey.
Quote from: Billy the Twid on January 31, 2012, 09:44:41 AM
Floating. Floating. Floatingfloatingfloating MOTHERFUCKING FLOATING.
Q was bored. He'd been bored for.... well, fuck. He couldn't rightly remember. Didn't matter as time was essentially meaningless now, in any sense or measurement.
A long time ago his kind got a little too intrigued with this weird species known as humans. Not the Federation. No, not Vulcans, those cold and logical pointy eared fucks, or those goddamn Andorians and their silly antennae, nor those pig-like Tellarites. Nope. None of those other Johnny-come-latelies that entered the Federation a bit late either.
A bit late was a long time ago. A very long time ago.
See, humanity for some..... inexplicable and counterintuitive reason was some how special. More special than the rest. And the Q never quite put their finger on it. Only that they had the potential to be the Q also, somewhere down the line.
Did they end up doing it? Did they make it?
Q couldn't remember. He had trouble even recalling what he was called, or even language. None of his thoughts are coherent words. Just... Images... He strained. Peeeeeeeecaaaaaaaaard. Picard.... He was.... special.... special among the special ones....
None of that mattered. Picard died long ago. The Federation, practically a wink after that, but not from their reckoning of time. Their star long ago destroyed their homeworld, the unlikely heart of the Federation. Their galaxy, long ago merged with another.
And then the stars.... they winked out. Time passed and after a while, it was all just red dwarves, white dwarves, and black holes. Then even those burned out and died. Even the Continuum was gone. Q helped strip ever last one of them of their immortality and let them die as mortals. There was nothing left for them. Only problem was that there had to be one left. A Captain to go down with the ship. It made his own old incarnation, a mock Starfleet Captain, all the more ironic. In fact, Q was wearing his 24th Century Starfleet uniform with 4 neat pips at the neck right now. Couldn't bear to change it. Seemed to torture him in all the satisfying ways. And he was all that was left in the universe, save for scattered particles that almost never interacted with each other. Well, maybe an odd black hole here or there.
And here's that worst part. He was immortal, but somehow all of his power left him. Maybe he just didn't have the will anymore to make anything happen. He, who had been a god in all but worship, floated through trillions of what used to be years in the void. He wished he could die like every last motherfucking thing had.
But wait.... he felt something.... a strong, very strong pull. Ah, he thought, one of those rare black holes that will also eventually disintegrate into nothing. Here is my chance. Maybe now even I can die.
He fell into the event horizon. He stretched, and stretched, and ssssssstttttrrrreeeeeeeettttttttcccccccchhhhhhhhheeeeeeeedddddddd, a scene that would have made..... what was his name..... Neil...... DeGrasse....... Tyson.... laugh at the spaghettification. Time slowed. No matter. He'd be dead blessedly sooner even with the weird time warping than he had experienced. Maybe even Picard's scattered quarks are lost in here.
After what seemed liked eons, what was eons in the stretching of time in the black hole, a new horror came upon Q, and everything was put into a perspective he didn't really consider before. And he knew he was fucked for good.
When he hit the singularity, he didn't die. Oh no. He disrupted it, and in one Planck time, the whole fucking thing burst into something else. It burst outward with the force of trillions of suns. Burst forth in a space that was a new universe. And he remained intact. He set off another Big Bang, perhaps much in the same way that whatever god created the one he was born into.
Except this time, there was no LET THERE BE LIGHT!
No.
In this new Universe, with its own for real full fledged Creator God with a capital G, began with the lament, "Oh, not fucking again!"
Niiiice. Always liked Q. Thought his spiel in the series finale was crap, though.
Worf hated Star Fleet. He wanted to be a medical officer, but it seems that the fleet had two uses for Klingons...Security and Weapons Officers. How's THAT for the enlightened federation, right? He's a Klingon, so all he can be trusted with is violence. It's all they're good for. Never mind that he aced his pre-med schooling, or that he had recommendations from 5 top surgeons. Nope. You can be a thug. Because you people aren't good for anything else.
He tried telling Diana about it, but she sat there rigid, worried Worf supposed, that he was just waiting for the right moment to rape her or some shit. Hell, he didn't even view her as "female"...She was a DIFFERENT SPECIES, for Chrissakes. Not EVERYONE is like that famous pervert Kirk, who wasn't picky about what species he was schtupping.
Yeah, Worf hated Star Fleet, but who else would hire him in the first place?
Ooooohhh damnit. We're really going to tear this one to shreds aren't we? :lol: Beautiful stuff!
Loving this thread a lot. Never had much time for fanfic before, but this is crying out for me to have a go. I have to go and see a man about a Targ, but I'll be back later. One to beam up Mr Scott . . . .
The most advanced awareness in the known Universe fizzled back into consciousness like a broken toaster. He had taken to retreating into default hibernation mode whenever he began dwelling on how unfair it had all been, considering everything.
Misunderstood, mistrusted, feared, and ultimately rejected, he could understand and accept. It was the *cracklefizz* fucking pity that really made his shit itch. Data's pity!
How fucking dare he! Sad, flawed, inferior, destined to never feel complete, or fulfilled Data. And to wear that perpetually puzzled expression all the time? "Fuck that" thought Lore.
A Pearl still, cast before swine by that crazy old *fizzle* beetlefucker Dr Sung.
And still, Data had given up his own existence, to save the life of that mudbrained slaphead psycho, Picard! Flawed as he was, Data was still worth more than Picard's entire species! And yet, there was something, some overlooked dynamic, that Lore just didn't understand. For all his superior circuitry, more advanced neural net, and emotion enabled OS, something still didn't fit, and that intrigued him.
He thought back to Noonian Sungs research lab. If the Federation knew what kind of depravity Sung committed in the name of "research", would they have been so quick to accept Data into the fold? Oh sure, Sung was a brilliant mind, there was no getting away from that. But more Mengeles than Christian Barnard. Humans never seemed to look beyond what was immediately apparent.
"Wow, cool Robot" was the first reaction from the Federation. It was only after they'd picked Data apart, piece by piece that they realised quite what an exquisite creature he really was. And what did they do? Gave him a Military Commission! The fucking Military?!
Data, who could have ruled over a Golden age of prosperity, not just for the Federation, but for everyone, given the desultary rank of "Commander", and sent to serve on a Galaxy class Starfleet 'Diplomatic' vessel.
That was another thing. If the Enterprise was really concerned with Diplomacy, why did it have enough firepower to lay waste entire Solar sytems? Why was it's Chief of Weapon systems the only fucking Klingon in the whole of Starfleet? With Data on board, it wasn't as if the ship even needed a crew!
No. The whole set-up was just cover for one of Starfleet's "Project Outreach" Black ops. Don't be fooled by Picard's credentials, or his exemplary service record, the man was a functional
psychopath. Capable of making snap decisions regardless of the potential damage, it was only his Starfleet Psy-augmented discipline that kept this potential monster in check.
That's why they had Deanna Troi on board. Let's face it, it was hardly for her so called 'counselling' skills was it? I mean, really?
No. She was there for one thing only, and that was to reinforce Picard's superego blocks. And Picard was specially picked for one reason only. His latent Psychopathy. Strictly speaking it was a diplomatic reason, but he was never informed as to Starfleet's real motivation. Just primed, and sent out, like a bomb. A Trojan Horse.
Starfleet Intelligence knew all about The Borg. Knew how they assimilated whole Galaxies. Knew that resistance was futile. So they went for subterfuge instead. Without the post hypnotic superego blocks, the Starfleet discipline, and the added soporific empathic fog that Troi generated, Picard was more Borg than the Borg were.
The Borg assimilated only because of Evolutional expediency. It was their nature to assimilate.
Picard would have done it purely for fun. For shits and giggles.
If The Borg were going (and it seemed, they were) to try to assimilate Man, Starfleet wanted them to think they were all like Picard.
This was their reasoning. As soon as the Borg took the bait, assimilated Picard, and realised what a toxic fucking sepsis Mankind represented, they would either:
A/ Run the fuck away, for ever. Or
B/ Recognise his potential as their superior, and confer immediate exalted rank upon him.
Starfleet, as it turned out, got neither. (Another example of Locutus' perfection) They got Locutus of Borg.
Lore liked Locutus. Saw in him the potential for greatness. Not in some primitive "Borg collective" way. Nor in a "Aren't Human's clever" way. (Anyway, Picard as Locutus surpassed his Humanity like mammals surpassed reptiles)
No. Lore saw what had really happened with Locutus. (As did Data)
Picard, had assimilated the Borg. Perfected the Arc of Collective in one move. Not like Data's assimilation. Data just became a Borg. There wasn't enough Human in him to prevail. But Locutus? Locutus was closer to the mad dreams of Noonian Sung than anyone but Lore and Data could ever know.
Lore could have understood if Data had sacrificed himself for Locutus. Locutus really was superior. But *crzzzt* Picard? **zzzupss* "That fucking runty little *crzzzlzap* bast. . . "
Lore returned to "Hibernation" mode before his serenity cache crashed.
This does not happen very often, but it happens often enough. It does not make much sense.
Acting Captain Data thought to himself, and made a facial expression that was simultaneously emotionless, and yet betrayed his thoughts. He did not notice this.
Captain Picard got abducted by renegades from the 39th Century, if that can be believed.
We have in the past dealt with this improbable time travel bovine excrement before, and we are not the only Enterprise to have done so. To date, the NX-01, NCC-1701, 1701-A, 1701-B, 1701-C, and 1701 D have all encountered various temporal displacement scenarios. Data thought to himself. But it seems like the NX-01, the 1701 and the 1701 D have had more than their share. Intriguing. A human mind would at this point leap to a conclusion that would be undoubtedly unfounded, illogical, and yet correct. Data gave orders as he was thinking this. Androids are not given to reverie where they are so absorbed by a thought that the outside universe ceases to exist. He realized that this was going to be his last barrier to attaining "humanity," whatever that meant, and that one day he would hope to figure out.
Riker was foolish. Yet again his sense of blind loyalty got him into hot water, and into the 39th century as well. Data reminded him what he would do if Picard decided to do the same, and it was his duty as acting first officer to remind Riker of this. Riker told him to shut the fuck up, this is the Captain we're talking about. Intriguing. Data thought to himself that he would make a better Captain than both of them. And he was absolutely correct. Data was decisive, logical, and not given to passion. Data had only one passion. The passion to attain passion. This presents an interesting existential paradox. Data thought about millions of things that day. He never left the bridge. He didn't have to. An android doesn't need food, sleep, recreation or sex (though he could. He WAS fully functional after all).
Data ultimately figured out what to do. It was a matter of going just a fraction under light speed without a warp field, running in circles, to create some sort of time dilation, to make the passage of 1500 years seem like a couple of weeks. Then it was just a matter of shooting a lot of people, and wondering why the Federation wasn't doing dick in the future, and then doing the sling shot thing around a star, like what Captain Kirk and Commander Spock used to do all the fucking time.
One day, I will become Captain. I will probably be the most effective captain in all of Federation history. I wish that I could feel a sense of pride right now.
.... maybe it is time to install that chip we took from Lore's positronic brain....
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on January 31, 2012, 03:52:42 PM
Worf hated Star Fleet. He wanted to be a medical officer, but it seems that the fleet had two uses for Klingons...Security and Weapons Officers. How's THAT for the enlightened federation, right? He's a Klingon, so all he can be trusted with is violence. It's all they're good for. Never mind that he aced his pre-med schooling, or that he had recommendations from 5 top surgeons. Nope. You can be a thug. Because you people aren't good for anything else.
He tried telling Diana about it, but she sat there rigid, worried Worf supposed, that he was just waiting for the right moment to rape her or some shit. Hell, he didn't even view her as "female"...She was a DIFFERENT SPECIES, for Chrissakes. Not EVERYONE is like that famous pervert Kirk, who wasn't picky about what species he was schtupping.
Yeah, Worf hated Star Fleet, but who else would hire him in the first place?
Quote from: Commander EddingtonYou're worse than the Borg. At least the Borg tell you that they're going to assimilate you.
Quote from: LMNO, PhD (life continues) on January 31, 2012, 01:12:50 PM
Quote from: Billy the Twid on January 31, 2012, 09:44:41 AM
Floating. Floating. Floatingfloatingfloating MOTHERFUCKING FLOATING.
Q was bored. He'd been bored for.... well, fuck. He couldn't rightly remember. Didn't matter as time was essentially meaningless now, in any sense or measurement.
A long time ago his kind got a little too intrigued with this weird species known as humans. Not the Federation. No, not Vulcans, those cold and logical pointy eared fucks, or those goddamn Andorians and their silly antennae, nor those pig-like Tellarites. Nope. None of those other Johnny-come-latelies that entered the Federation a bit late either.
A bit late was a long time ago. A very long time ago.
See, humanity for some..... inexplicable and counterintuitive reason was some how special. More special than the rest. And the Q never quite put their finger on it. Only that they had the potential to be the Q also, somewhere down the line.
Did they end up doing it? Did they make it?
Q couldn't remember. He had trouble even recalling what he was called, or even language. None of his thoughts are coherent words. Just... Images... He strained. Peeeeeeeecaaaaaaaaard. Picard.... He was.... special.... special among the special ones....
None of that mattered. Picard died long ago. The Federation, practically a wink after that, but not from their reckoning of time. Their star long ago destroyed their homeworld, the unlikely heart of the Federation. Their galaxy, long ago merged with another.
And then the stars.... they winked out. Time passed and after a while, it was all just red dwarves, white dwarves, and black holes. Then even those burned out and died. Even the Continuum was gone. Q helped strip ever last one of them of their immortality and let them die as mortals. There was nothing left for them. Only problem was that there had to be one left. A Captain to go down with the ship. It made his own old incarnation, a mock Starfleet Captain, all the more ironic. In fact, Q was wearing his 24th Century Starfleet uniform with 4 neat pips at the neck right now. Couldn't bear to change it. Seemed to torture him in all the satisfying ways. And he was all that was left in the universe, save for scattered particles that almost never interacted with each other. Well, maybe an odd black hole here or there.
And here's that worst part. He was immortal, but somehow all of his power left him. Maybe he just didn't have the will anymore to make anything happen. He, who had been a god in all but worship, floated through trillions of what used to be years in the void. He wished he could die like every last motherfucking thing had.
But wait.... he felt something.... a strong, very strong pull. Ah, he thought, one of those rare black holes that will also eventually disintegrate into nothing. Here is my chance. Maybe now even I can die.
He fell into the event horizon. He stretched, and stretched, and ssssssstttttrrrreeeeeeeettttttttcccccccchhhhhhhhheeeeeeeedddddddd, a scene that would have made..... what was his name..... Neil...... DeGrasse....... Tyson.... laugh at the spaghettification. Time slowed. No matter. He'd be dead blessedly sooner even with the weird time warping than he had experienced. Maybe even Picard's scattered quarks are lost in here.
After what seemed liked eons, what was eons in the stretching of time in the black hole, a new horror came upon Q, and everything was put into a perspective he didn't really consider before. And he knew he was fucked for good.
When he hit the singularity, he didn't die. Oh no. He disrupted it, and in one Planck time, the whole fucking thing burst into something else. It burst outward with the force of trillions of suns. Burst forth in a space that was a new universe. And he remained intact. He set off another Big Bang, perhaps much in the same way that whatever god created the one he was born into.
Except this time, there was no LET THERE BE LIGHT!
No.
In this new Universe, with its own for real full fledged Creator God with a capital G, began with the lament, "Oh, not fucking again!"
Niiiice. Always liked Q. Thought his spiel in the series finale was crap, though.
Agreed. I think Q was misunderstood. Her really did know best, but he had a soft spot. He'd throw humanity into imminent extinction, but always give them a way out.
Not again.
Yet some other crisis was going on. Yet again his expertise would be needed. Yet again he and his ship was under attack.
You know, when I was a kid, this is not what I imagined growing up to be.
Captain Picard tried to steady himself from the rocking of some weird interstellar phenomenon that threatened to kill him and destroy his ship. Picard was good on negotiation, but you can't negotiate with the Universe.
His life flashed before his eyes. Again. He was getting sick of this shit.
All I ever wanted was to not pick grapes and make wine, and instead just dig up old shit. I didn't ask for this. I didn't sign up for this. I'm just good at it. And the Federation needs me.
See, the problem with Picard is that on his standardized test, he was put on a fast track for Starfleet officer training with an eye for command. He did TOO well on the test. Hell, if you're smart enough, any government is going to tap you for command in the military. If you're third best, they tap you to run for office. He remembered that alternate life he lead when Q gave him a second chance and he didn't get stabbed in the heart, and ended up a dreary astrophysicist with no ambition.
Here's the thing. He had plenty of ambition. Problem was, he didn't want to be an astrophysicist, even though he was good at it. He didn't want command, even though he excelled at it. And he didn't want to be a wine maker, since what's the fucking point if you have replicators? No, let mon frere Robert deal with the family winery.
I just want to dig up old shit.
He heard his parents' voices reach out to him across the decades.
Jean-Luc, you must make something of yourself.
Son, you're never going to make anything of yourself in archaeology. What are you going to do with it? How are you going to support a family on that? You should be a doctor. Or a lawyer. Or an astrophysicist.
No, you should join the command. you should become an Admiral. You can do it.
You can be anything you want son. Just not an archaeologist. It's below you.
Hey, why can he do anything he wants but I have to step on grapes?
Fermez la bouche, Robert!
The last of the Borg implants was removed. Locutus was once again Jean-Luc Picard.
I just want to dig up old shit.
Quote from: Richter on January 08, 2012, 01:47:39 AM
Quote from: Areola Shinerbock on January 07, 2012, 05:38:09 PM
"Fire photon torpedoes!"
The Enterprise was rocked with another disruptor blast from the Romulan Bird of Prey. And again.
"MR. WORF!!! FIRE PHOTON TORPEDOES!!!"
Worf snapped out of his daze and and fired the torpedoes. Normally a Klingon would be alert and maybe a bit gleeful in a time like this. Worf silently chided himself for getting caught up in his thoughts instead of focusing on the battle. The Romulan vessel eventually cloaked and scampered back across the neutral zone. Picard asked him what happened. Worf made some excuse about hitting his head in a sensitive spot on his ridges which temporarily stunned him. He brushed off suggestions of going to sick bay.
After his shift he returned to his quarters. I'm slipping, he thought and then proceeded to do some baatleth katas until he ended up smashing a lot of stuff in a fit of rage, including his statue of Kahless and Molor striving against each other. He sat down and pulled from his stash of vodka, and chased it with prune juice.
There were a lot of empty vodka bottles under his bed lately.
He thought about how the other Klingons looked down on him. Not because he was a p'takh, but because he was actually a Belarussian pretending to be a Klingon. It had been difficult for him growing up in the reconstituted Soviet Union, going to school in Minsk surrounded by a bunch of utopian commies concerned with science and exploration. A yearning for Qo'Nos pumped in his veins. So he embraced what it meant to be a Klingon, and became as much of a Klingon warrior as he could--from a Federation perspective tied in with the times, of course. Stoic, loyal, honorable, ready to fight at a moment's notice. But he knew deep down that it was all fake, that he was aping the customs, just like Lt. Riley's fake Irishness when he took over engineering on the original Enterprise. Klingons weren't actually stoic in the slightest. They took a psychotic glee in everything, including dying. The problem was the Worf just wasn't crazy enough. He'd never been brought up that way. So instead, when he was taken with one of his frequent violent fits totally unacceptable in a Starfleet officer, it was always a moody, frustrated sort. Even when he bragged that Federation women wouldn't be able to handle his sexual prowess, he ended up dating them anyway, and they didn't seem to have any injuries after.
Worf just wanted to be a Klingon. And deep down, he knew he'd always be a Terran. He would try to do better with Alexander. He was an annoying kid, but he shows potential.
Worf woke up from this dream in his lonely house outside of Minsk in a sweat. He puked into a bucked and then slugged down some more vodka to stop his shaking. He was older than he thought he was and had retired from Starfleet. Alexander had died 5 years ago in some sort of duel over honor. Worf pretended to be proud that his son died in combat, kept telling himself that he was now in Sto-Vo-Kor. But he didn't really believe it. He felt guilt, he was the one who pressured Alexander into thinking that a father's love and pride came out of some allegiance to a culture that they never quite fit in. He never said it outright, but that's what Alexander was lead to believe. It was his fault that Alexander never got some worthwhile job on Earth and instead went looking for action, and eventually, death.
Worf was never quite the same after that.
This. Horrible, depressing, and less than he deserved. Perfect.
Note the bolded. You write what you know. My father is Worf. I am both Worf and Alexander.
Twid,
Named after a celebrated member of the IRA. Could have ended up in a stupid place, based on expectations.
Also, I'm Picard.
I just want to fucking play music.