Star Trek fic: Planet Eden (crew)
Jun. 1st, 2009 12:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seriousficTitle: Planet Eden
Fandom: Star Trek
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,553
Characters/Pairings: Kirk, Number One, Uhura/Spock, Scotty, Chekov, Gaila, Harry Mudd
Author’s notes: Sequel to Strange New World.
Summary: On the one hand, Harry Mudd’s claims of a paradise planet are ludicrous. On the other hand, Kirk could totally have a planet named after him.
Mudd’s ship was a Chevrolet Lechwe, bigger than a shuttle but able to fit comfortably into the Enterprise’s landing bay. It was also the most beat-up, filthy, neglected, rusted, gnawed on ship Montgomery Scott had ever seen. “Ah, ya poor darlin’, what has the mean man been doin’ ta yea?”
Mudd overheard. “Just a few nicks and dings in the course of honest labor, dear boy.” He clapped Scotty on the shoulder.
“Honest—that hull’s been hit with phasers, disruptors, even plasma cannons! Your engine’s venting more photons than a quasar and your rear stabilizer is shot ta blazes!”
“Well, as it turns out, you really don’t need one. Ah-heh.”
“Mister Mudd, do you know what it does ta your ship to run the warp core in such a condition? A fine, fine piece of engineering like that, and you’ve turned it into the galaxy’s biggest cheese grater!”
“Come now, Monty, it wasn’t that good a ship.”
“Hold me back, Keenser!” The tiny alien dutifully wrapped himself around Scotty’s legs as the engineer swung wildly just short of Mudd. “Ye lillipudded bastard, ya shouldn’t be allowed to captain so much as a bicycle!”
“Captain Kirk! Captain Kirk!” Mudd ran to the turbolift, where Kirk and Number One had just arrived. “Is this any way for the vaunted Federation to treat a guest? Your chief engineer has just accosted me! I trust he will be discharged in due course!”
“You never know, Mudd. I might hand him a commendation. It all depends on this Eden of yours.”
Number One managed to roll her eyes with her whole body, yet without moving.
“Cap’n, his warp core is running completely without filtration! It’s unsafe at any warp factor!”
Kirk glanced at Number One. “See? If this doesn’t pan out, at least we’ll have ticketed a safety risk. And people wonder why we’re the flagship.”
Number One’s laser-beam eyes stayed on Scotty. “Mr. Scott, patch up Mr. Mudd’s engines and cite him for all relevant offenses.”
“My pleasure, ma’am.”
“And now that my second-in-command is done, Harry, let’s get down to business.” Kirk gestured for Mudd to follow him as he walked past a line of shuttlecraft.
“Yes, Captain, I’m prepared to accept several dozen bars of gold-pressed latinum, although how many dozen is at your discretion.”
“That depends on whether the planet is a scientific curiosity or suitable for colonization. You wouldn’t be the first surveyor who tried to sell Starfleet a fake bill of goods.”
“Captain, I’m shocked and offended! When have I ever given you reason to mistrust me?”
“When I read your record. Smuggling, gambling, prostitution, distribution of Venus pills…”
“Youthful high spirits!”
“You were forty.”
“I was getting in touch with my inner child. Captain, please, all you have to do is take a look at my little paradise. Of course, if Starfleet has given you a more pressing mission, I’ll find some other starship captain to report this to. I’m sure he’ll be happy to have a planet named after him.”
Outwardly, Jim was stoic. Inside… Helm, set a course for planet Kirk!
***
“Oh, the lonely life of a spacer!” Mudd dabbed at his forehead with a monogrammed handkerchief. “I’ve actually grown unused to a hull not saturated with cosmic rays! And the good! Treasure your replicator, dear fellows! I must soldier on with naught but a protein resequencer! Earth delicacies such as these can simply not be enjoyed in liquid form.” Mudd took another bite of pizza. “Heavenly.”
Mudd was holding court in the mess hall over a three-course meal his guest status had netted him. The more impressionable crewmembers were drawn to the novelty of the rogue. Chekov, front and center, listened to his tales of the gritty life of a modern-day space boomer.
“What about vymen? Surely, it must get lonely.”
“That, fortuitously, is not a problem.” Mudd opened his coat to reveal an apparatus dangling from his pocket. “With this Deltan love simulator, there’s no desire I can ferment that goes unfulfilled. Perhaps I could be convinced to part with my spare, for a minor compensation…?”
Near the back of the mess hall, Spock was taking his breakfast with the crew. Though the replicator in his quarters was functional, he thought it prudent to be a fixture of the crew’s lives, and he wished to observe their cohesion while off-duty. His conclusions were mixed. Underneath their cockiness and professionalism was self-doubt at being in space so soon, the same space that had so recently claimed their friends and classmates at the Battle of Vulcan. A CO with a strong hand could ease their fear, but Kirk was either oblivious to it or unable to face it because he was denying the same doubts. His older self had spoken of Kirk as a man of great skill and leadership. So far, Spock had seen little that could not be attributed to charisma… or luck.
He ignored the surprise the ship’s cook showed at serving him and sat down across from Ensign Gaila, alongside Uhura.
“And I just… remembered where I left my underwear!” Gaila got up.
“Please sit, Ensign. This concerns you.”
Gaila sat back down. “It’s a bit early for a promotion. If there’s such a thing as too early anymore. Not that Jim doesn’t deserve the captain’s chair… did I just call the Captain ‘Jim’?”
“Ensign,” Spock stressed. “I am assigning Mr. Mudd to new quarters. I would be grateful if you would escort him there. Coincidentally, this would seem an excellent opportunity to ascertain the facts of Mudd’s proposition.”
Gaila let down her hair. “Always happy to make a guest feel welcome. Uh… can I finish my omelet first?”
“Yes.”
Gaila ate, watching Spock and Uhura sitting side by side.
“So how’s the sex?”
“Gaila!” Uhura whispered fiercely.
“It is satisfactory,”
“Spock!”
***
“So, what is a beautiful darling like you doing on a boring starship like this?”
Behind every word Mudd spoke, Gaila could hear a snicker about Orion animal women. She’d gotten good at enduring it. “I enlisted to meet men,” she heightened her voice into a heliumish titter. “All these strapping lads in uniforms… I’ll have no problem finding a husband!”
“Oh?” Mudd stroked his moustache, then caught up to Gaila as she turned a corner. It was easy when most of her locomotion was spent on wagging her hips. “And how could a Starfleet officer’s salary support a woman of your, ah, tastes?”
“Money isn’t everything. I want a real man to be my mate. Someone… courageous.” She unlocked Mudd’s new cabin. “I think you’ll like this one much better. It has a window!”
Mudd strolled inside, taking the room in. “It is quite lovely, but nothing compared to the hostess.” He lazed back on a divan. “You know, the life of a spaceman is not for the faint of heart. There are radiation storms and Klingons and meteorites. I wouldn’t mind settling down on a nice agrarian world, if I could find someone to share my newfound affluence with.”
Gaila sighed and swooned against the wall. “I’m sorry, I’m sure you’re very brave, but I’m looking for someone… courageous. What’s so dangerous about discovering a paradise planet?”
“Dangerous!” Mudd sat bolt upright. “I risk my life evading pirates to bring your captain… your captain… oh dear.”
“Don’t get too comfortable,” Gaila advised him as she left.
***
“Pirates,” Kirk said, sounding a bit impressed despite himself. He’d never fought pirates. “And this just… slipped your mind?”
Mudd wheeled his way around the bridge. “I… didn’t think you’d believe me. They’re not your usual pirates.”
“Coming up on Mudd’s coordinates,” Sulu reported.
“Yellow alert, shields up,” Kirk called. “Security, take this man to the brig.”
“Captain, I am your guest!”
“You still are, we’re just giving you a new room. And worse food.”
“Captain!” Protesting, Mudd was dragged toward the turbolift.
“Phasers charged, torpedoes hot,” Number One said from the weapons station.
Chekov eased down the warp engines. “Coming out of warp in three… two… one…”
The unnatural smoothness of warp travel gave way to the subconscious rumble of impulse. The elongated stars shortened into points of light and a planet grew from a speck to take up most of the viewscreen. It was M-class, with verdant green landmasses, sparkling blue oceans, and three majestic rings encircling it.
“You see, Captain, you see?” Mudd cried from the turbolift. “Eden!”
“Let him go,” Kirk told the redshirt.
“Something’s coming up on sensors,” Spock said. “It does not match any known ship. I’m detecting… wood.”
“Coming into visual range now, keptin.”
“On screen.”
The viewscreen magnified onto black sails and wooden hulls.
“Is it just me or is that a sailboat?” Sulu asked.
“In space?” Chekov added.
“An East Indiaman, to be precise.” Spock looked into his viewer. “Captain, we’re being hailed.”
Kirk unfroze and made an impending-headache gesture. “On screen.”
A window opened on the viewscreen. It appeared less as a camera’s broadcast than a close-up on the tallship. Behind the ship’s wheel, a gaudily-dressed pirate drew a cutlass from his waist.
“Avast, ye mateys, prepare to be boarded by Captain Jack Sparrow of the good ship Black Pearl!”
The crew watched him fire a flintlock into the air, or rather space, in utter silence.
Kirk spoke first. “…what the fuck?”
Author’s notes: Yes, I know, I know, but TOS had Abraham Lincoln, Wyatt Earp, Jack the Ripper, and Genghis Khan as guest stars. Jack Sparrow isn’t that much more outrageous, and hey, at least Spock’s brain isn’t missing :). Don’t worry, this fic isn’t taking a turn for the cracky. There’s a perfectly, ah, logical explanation for this.
This installment was more jokey than I thought it would be when I sat down to write it, but hey, it’s a Mudd fic, so I suppose I should’ve expected that. Please, picture Jim Broadbent as Mudd if it’s not too much trouble.
And apparently Chevrolet is still around in the future. Hey, Star Trek always was optimistic…
Next up is Supplemental.
Fandom: Star Trek
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,553
Characters/Pairings: Kirk, Number One, Uhura/Spock, Scotty, Chekov, Gaila, Harry Mudd
Author’s notes: Sequel to Strange New World.
Summary: On the one hand, Harry Mudd’s claims of a paradise planet are ludicrous. On the other hand, Kirk could totally have a planet named after him.
Mudd’s ship was a Chevrolet Lechwe, bigger than a shuttle but able to fit comfortably into the Enterprise’s landing bay. It was also the most beat-up, filthy, neglected, rusted, gnawed on ship Montgomery Scott had ever seen. “Ah, ya poor darlin’, what has the mean man been doin’ ta yea?”
Mudd overheard. “Just a few nicks and dings in the course of honest labor, dear boy.” He clapped Scotty on the shoulder.
“Honest—that hull’s been hit with phasers, disruptors, even plasma cannons! Your engine’s venting more photons than a quasar and your rear stabilizer is shot ta blazes!”
“Well, as it turns out, you really don’t need one. Ah-heh.”
“Mister Mudd, do you know what it does ta your ship to run the warp core in such a condition? A fine, fine piece of engineering like that, and you’ve turned it into the galaxy’s biggest cheese grater!”
“Come now, Monty, it wasn’t that good a ship.”
“Hold me back, Keenser!” The tiny alien dutifully wrapped himself around Scotty’s legs as the engineer swung wildly just short of Mudd. “Ye lillipudded bastard, ya shouldn’t be allowed to captain so much as a bicycle!”
“Captain Kirk! Captain Kirk!” Mudd ran to the turbolift, where Kirk and Number One had just arrived. “Is this any way for the vaunted Federation to treat a guest? Your chief engineer has just accosted me! I trust he will be discharged in due course!”
“You never know, Mudd. I might hand him a commendation. It all depends on this Eden of yours.”
Number One managed to roll her eyes with her whole body, yet without moving.
“Cap’n, his warp core is running completely without filtration! It’s unsafe at any warp factor!”
Kirk glanced at Number One. “See? If this doesn’t pan out, at least we’ll have ticketed a safety risk. And people wonder why we’re the flagship.”
Number One’s laser-beam eyes stayed on Scotty. “Mr. Scott, patch up Mr. Mudd’s engines and cite him for all relevant offenses.”
“My pleasure, ma’am.”
“And now that my second-in-command is done, Harry, let’s get down to business.” Kirk gestured for Mudd to follow him as he walked past a line of shuttlecraft.
“Yes, Captain, I’m prepared to accept several dozen bars of gold-pressed latinum, although how many dozen is at your discretion.”
“That depends on whether the planet is a scientific curiosity or suitable for colonization. You wouldn’t be the first surveyor who tried to sell Starfleet a fake bill of goods.”
“Captain, I’m shocked and offended! When have I ever given you reason to mistrust me?”
“When I read your record. Smuggling, gambling, prostitution, distribution of Venus pills…”
“Youthful high spirits!”
“You were forty.”
“I was getting in touch with my inner child. Captain, please, all you have to do is take a look at my little paradise. Of course, if Starfleet has given you a more pressing mission, I’ll find some other starship captain to report this to. I’m sure he’ll be happy to have a planet named after him.”
Outwardly, Jim was stoic. Inside… Helm, set a course for planet Kirk!
***
“Oh, the lonely life of a spacer!” Mudd dabbed at his forehead with a monogrammed handkerchief. “I’ve actually grown unused to a hull not saturated with cosmic rays! And the good! Treasure your replicator, dear fellows! I must soldier on with naught but a protein resequencer! Earth delicacies such as these can simply not be enjoyed in liquid form.” Mudd took another bite of pizza. “Heavenly.”
Mudd was holding court in the mess hall over a three-course meal his guest status had netted him. The more impressionable crewmembers were drawn to the novelty of the rogue. Chekov, front and center, listened to his tales of the gritty life of a modern-day space boomer.
“What about vymen? Surely, it must get lonely.”
“That, fortuitously, is not a problem.” Mudd opened his coat to reveal an apparatus dangling from his pocket. “With this Deltan love simulator, there’s no desire I can ferment that goes unfulfilled. Perhaps I could be convinced to part with my spare, for a minor compensation…?”
Near the back of the mess hall, Spock was taking his breakfast with the crew. Though the replicator in his quarters was functional, he thought it prudent to be a fixture of the crew’s lives, and he wished to observe their cohesion while off-duty. His conclusions were mixed. Underneath their cockiness and professionalism was self-doubt at being in space so soon, the same space that had so recently claimed their friends and classmates at the Battle of Vulcan. A CO with a strong hand could ease their fear, but Kirk was either oblivious to it or unable to face it because he was denying the same doubts. His older self had spoken of Kirk as a man of great skill and leadership. So far, Spock had seen little that could not be attributed to charisma… or luck.
He ignored the surprise the ship’s cook showed at serving him and sat down across from Ensign Gaila, alongside Uhura.
“And I just… remembered where I left my underwear!” Gaila got up.
“Please sit, Ensign. This concerns you.”
Gaila sat back down. “It’s a bit early for a promotion. If there’s such a thing as too early anymore. Not that Jim doesn’t deserve the captain’s chair… did I just call the Captain ‘Jim’?”
“Ensign,” Spock stressed. “I am assigning Mr. Mudd to new quarters. I would be grateful if you would escort him there. Coincidentally, this would seem an excellent opportunity to ascertain the facts of Mudd’s proposition.”
Gaila let down her hair. “Always happy to make a guest feel welcome. Uh… can I finish my omelet first?”
“Yes.”
Gaila ate, watching Spock and Uhura sitting side by side.
“So how’s the sex?”
“Gaila!” Uhura whispered fiercely.
“It is satisfactory,”
“Spock!”
***
“So, what is a beautiful darling like you doing on a boring starship like this?”
Behind every word Mudd spoke, Gaila could hear a snicker about Orion animal women. She’d gotten good at enduring it. “I enlisted to meet men,” she heightened her voice into a heliumish titter. “All these strapping lads in uniforms… I’ll have no problem finding a husband!”
“Oh?” Mudd stroked his moustache, then caught up to Gaila as she turned a corner. It was easy when most of her locomotion was spent on wagging her hips. “And how could a Starfleet officer’s salary support a woman of your, ah, tastes?”
“Money isn’t everything. I want a real man to be my mate. Someone… courageous.” She unlocked Mudd’s new cabin. “I think you’ll like this one much better. It has a window!”
Mudd strolled inside, taking the room in. “It is quite lovely, but nothing compared to the hostess.” He lazed back on a divan. “You know, the life of a spaceman is not for the faint of heart. There are radiation storms and Klingons and meteorites. I wouldn’t mind settling down on a nice agrarian world, if I could find someone to share my newfound affluence with.”
Gaila sighed and swooned against the wall. “I’m sorry, I’m sure you’re very brave, but I’m looking for someone… courageous. What’s so dangerous about discovering a paradise planet?”
“Dangerous!” Mudd sat bolt upright. “I risk my life evading pirates to bring your captain… your captain… oh dear.”
“Don’t get too comfortable,” Gaila advised him as she left.
***
“Pirates,” Kirk said, sounding a bit impressed despite himself. He’d never fought pirates. “And this just… slipped your mind?”
Mudd wheeled his way around the bridge. “I… didn’t think you’d believe me. They’re not your usual pirates.”
“Coming up on Mudd’s coordinates,” Sulu reported.
“Yellow alert, shields up,” Kirk called. “Security, take this man to the brig.”
“Captain, I am your guest!”
“You still are, we’re just giving you a new room. And worse food.”
“Captain!” Protesting, Mudd was dragged toward the turbolift.
“Phasers charged, torpedoes hot,” Number One said from the weapons station.
Chekov eased down the warp engines. “Coming out of warp in three… two… one…”
The unnatural smoothness of warp travel gave way to the subconscious rumble of impulse. The elongated stars shortened into points of light and a planet grew from a speck to take up most of the viewscreen. It was M-class, with verdant green landmasses, sparkling blue oceans, and three majestic rings encircling it.
“You see, Captain, you see?” Mudd cried from the turbolift. “Eden!”
“Let him go,” Kirk told the redshirt.
“Something’s coming up on sensors,” Spock said. “It does not match any known ship. I’m detecting… wood.”
“Coming into visual range now, keptin.”
“On screen.”
The viewscreen magnified onto black sails and wooden hulls.
“Is it just me or is that a sailboat?” Sulu asked.
“In space?” Chekov added.
“An East Indiaman, to be precise.” Spock looked into his viewer. “Captain, we’re being hailed.”
Kirk unfroze and made an impending-headache gesture. “On screen.”
A window opened on the viewscreen. It appeared less as a camera’s broadcast than a close-up on the tallship. Behind the ship’s wheel, a gaudily-dressed pirate drew a cutlass from his waist.
“Avast, ye mateys, prepare to be boarded by Captain Jack Sparrow of the good ship Black Pearl!”
The crew watched him fire a flintlock into the air, or rather space, in utter silence.
Kirk spoke first. “…what the fuck?”
Author’s notes: Yes, I know, I know, but TOS had Abraham Lincoln, Wyatt Earp, Jack the Ripper, and Genghis Khan as guest stars. Jack Sparrow isn’t that much more outrageous, and hey, at least Spock’s brain isn’t missing :). Don’t worry, this fic isn’t taking a turn for the cracky. There’s a perfectly, ah, logical explanation for this.
This installment was more jokey than I thought it would be when I sat down to write it, but hey, it’s a Mudd fic, so I suppose I should’ve expected that. Please, picture Jim Broadbent as Mudd if it’s not too much trouble.
And apparently Chevrolet is still around in the future. Hey, Star Trek always was optimistic…
Next up is Supplemental.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-06-01 06:53 pm (UTC)of course, my favorite part had to be:
“So how’s the sex?”
“Gaila!” Uhura whispered fiercely.
“It is satisfactory,”
“Spock!”
So much fun!!
Thanks for sharing :D
no subject
Date: 2009-06-01 08:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-01 08:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-01 09:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-02 12:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-02 04:17 am (UTC)Good writing, I'm just confused.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-02 05:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-02 02:41 pm (UTC)Jack would never say "Avast".
[/joke]
no subject
Date: 2010-03-16 10:50 pm (UTC)Quite :D