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Star Trek (season 1)

Primera temporada de esta original serie de ciencia ficción de las 60s y que a pesar de solo haber durado 3 temporadas formó un legado como nunca se ha visto en televisión.

Después de un fallido primer piloto una segunda oportunidad le daría a esta seria la oportunidad de probar que buena ciencia ficción no solo era tener extraños maquillajes y personajes y naves especiales y rayos láser pero sin ningún contenido. Esta serie demostró que buenos libretos podrían también hacerse en un ambiente de ciencia ficción.

Con personajes inolvidables y que marcaron parte de la cultura pop del mundo están los inolvidables Capitán Kirk y el señor Spock.

Así como la nave misma, el Enterprise, que se volvió un personaje más en la serie.

Y como Gworge Lucas admitiría muchos años después esta serie fue parte de la influencia que el recibió en su juventud y que le animó a escribir Star Wars.

5 de 5

I read this post about a ship full of Vulcans looking after their dangerous human (like a reverse star trek) and the Vulcans learning human customs to make said human feel at home (that one image of the plain “It’s your birthday” sign)

And then I read this other post about a human going on a spaceship with dyed hair and how it fades over time but if you combine them it makes the funniest thing

This group of Vulcans can’t understand why their human is fading and have tried so hard to do human things and then she just goes “Oh don’t worry guys my hair does that, its fine.”

(Could make for a good sprik au)

Enterprise 112: Dear Doctor

how many animals are in that medical bay

I love that Phlox is enjoying himself so much with all his pets and his pen pal! and Porthos!

and it’s funny how movie night is Let’s Watch Humans

also i Still don’t understand why T'Pol needs her periscope. you have all the screens in the world to tell you that. you can’t use Vulcan vision and a telescope to see it so that weird thing is completely unnecessary.

“you make a cute… washboard”

i enjoy the linguistic aspects of this show (and Hoshi is v cute)

if it’s genetic and you need new DNA and you have the Menk right there who are immune i see one obvious solution. and I’m sure the whole “we’re not compatible” is just racism… reminds me of that TNG episode with the clones that needed new DNA material

I’m glad the captain came to that conclusion. i usually don’t like the prime directive and i think it’s usually taken too at-the-letter but in this case when another civilization is at risk (and they’re parked in compounds like the US did with native americans or the Australian with the indigenous people) i like that they’re letting it play out without interfering.

and i really like Phlox and Cutler!

darkmasterofcupcakes  asked:

So, I've only really seen the recent film trilogy (Star Trek 2009, Into Darkness, and Beyond), but I really love them a lot. Am I able to say I'm a Star Trek fan, or is it one of those things where you have to also have seen/enjoyed the TV series for it to "count"? I'm never sure how franchise fandoms work.

I’m sure some die-hard TOS fan out there will disagree with me, but I think it counts! I also love the new movies and Chris Pine. The fandom usually calls those movies AOS (Alternate Original Series) or the Reboot, because the characters come from the original series (TOS). So if someone’s talking about AOS/Reboot, that’s your jam!

All of that being said… I am a big nerd and have watched many of the various series, and I can give you a pitch for why each of them is awesome. :D

TOS/ “Star Trek”: The O.G.!! If you love reboot Kirk & Co., well, this is where it all began. TOS is wholesome and super progressive for a 60s show. You also get to spend three seasons with William Shatner’s accent, ridiculous-looking aliens, completely implausible science, and the original slash ship, Kirk and Spock. Plus, Leonard Nimoy is a great actor and a gift to humanity.

TNG (The Next Generation): I grew up watching TNG reruns, so I’m biased, but I would say it is the best Star Trek show out there. If you like philosophical dramas with a good dose of humor, then this one’s for you. Captain Picard is a badass, there is an incredible ensemble cast (plus Q, the immortal trickster alien) and the whole show is dedicated to exploring what it means to be human.

DS9 (Deep Space Nine): DS9 is special bc it takes place on a space station instead of a starship, with the characters traveling to different planets. It’s darker than its predecessors bc it deals with war, racism and genocide, but has a lot of compassion and humor. Captain Sisko is the first POC captain, and he’s epic. The ensemble cast is incredibly compelling and probably Star Trek’s best.

VOY (Voyager): I’m watching this now for the first time and am only on Season 2, so I can’t say much yet. Captain Janeway, the first female captain, is awesome and reminds me of Picard. There’s a fun ensemble cast as usual. This show feels a little less “intergalactic romp” and a little more “hard sci-fi” than the other series, but I love that too, so I’m down to watch the rest.

ENT (Enterprise): Sadly cannot comment; I haven’t seen it.

DIS (Discovery): I have only watched Season 1 because I am waiting for the whole season to come out so I can use my free one-week trial of CBS All Access to binge-watch it. Anyway, it’s great. It has some of the same characters as TOS and hearkens back to the original spirit of Star Trek. Michael Burnham, the main character, is played amazingly by Sonequa Martin-Green. There are creative alien designs, great villains, and interesting culture clash scenarios.

Tl;dr: You don’t need to have watched any of the series to be a fan, but I would recommend them! Live long and prosper xD

Crimson Renegade, Part 2

Originally posted by spiderboyneedsahug-replies

Look into your eyes (I’m drownin’ in em)

Summary: The newest transfer sees her new quarters and has a long awaited meeting

Pairings: OC/Jim Kirk(Platonic), OC/Leonard McCoy(Eventual Romance)


“We can argue that point later but in the spirit of friendship, what will it take for you to put this minor miscalculation behind us?” I say, using my most innocent of voices.  

“You mean what will it take for me to forget you tried to manipulate me into getting your way?”

I mumble a nearly indiscernible ‘yes’ before snapping to attention, staring Jim squarely in the eye.  

“Wait a minute! Why do you get to take the high ground? Don’t act like you haven’t whipped out those baby blues on me to get me to do your bidding.”

“To get a phone number or a free drink, not get out of a mandated physical.”

“Says the man, sorry, Captain, that’s run from every hypo since birth.”

Jim’s piercing gaze volleys back and forth, as if the air itself would supply a worthy retort. His quick wit momentarily slows to a halt until a mischievous simper appears.  

“So Danny, why do you need exclusive use of hold 626-E again?“

All joking aside, my eyes are sharper than Jim’s jawline. “You wouldn’t?”

“Try me.” Leaning forward over my shoulder, Jim stage whispers in my ear. “You know you’re not getting out of this, right?”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I let out a sigh.

I did bring this on myself

“What do you want?”

“You know there’s only one thing I want, Gem.”

“First, you know how I feel about you calling me Gem.” Jim’s devilish grin widens but with a nod he relents. “How long am I to be at your mercy Oh captain, my captain?”

“I’m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

In the corner of my eye, Spock’s face is a vision of pure Vulcan horror, if we can call it that. The speed in which he’s quantifying our non-verbal cues to discern the level of misconduct he is witnessing is dizzying and rather funny. Spock could teach a master class on body language akin to psychotherapist. However, the shrewd Second in Command is, as always, at a loss as to the emotion behind them.  In all likelihood Jim did in fact just proposition me and I reluctantly accepted. But that has never been the type of relationship Jim and I have ever had. How could our fearless leader, not poke the Vulcan teddy bear when he’s so flagrantly missing something.

“Don’t worry Spock. It’s completely consensual.”

“I was not aware the nature of your relationship had changed in the interim of our last meeting.” Spock says, in his cool timbre. 

“Hey, cool it Casanova.” I say, directed at Kirk. Stepping off the lift, I try to clarify the situation for my ever-processing Vulcan friend.  “Spock, Jim wants to take Artemis for a ride, not me.” Jim quietly snorts as we make our way down the corridor. Spock is none the wiser. If only Vulcan humor included double entendre. “And to answer your question, that you didn’t quite get to finish asking, I can get the sample for you after my physical or Scotty can. He has security clearance to access Artemis as well.”

“Thank you. That will be most useful.” Jim keys in the generic code to my new quarters and steps through but Spock remains rooted to his spot. Placing his hands behind him, Spock patiently stands, awaiting my attention. “Commander,” he says after a pause. “I am never one to question your abilities. Your skill as an engineer and subsequently a pilot is well documented. However, was it necessary to disregard my transmission before it was completed?”

“I think I heard a compliment in there somewhere but we’ll unpack that later.” I say with a smile.  “But, if I had allowed you to continue, am I correct in assuming that you were going to express concern for my life?”

“That is an affirmative.”

Taking a moment, I think of what was going through my mind in the split second I chose to execute my plan. In truth, not much. Yes, I deliberately chose to proceed before hearing the consistently sage words of my comrade. But I had the means to keep my weakened crew safe. They could escape due to my actions. How could I not act with the utmost decisiveness?  

“In this instance I refer you to the words of a very wise man, ‘The needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few, or in this case, the one’.”  

Almost instantly, Spock’s brow quirks in what I believe is appreciation. With a smooth nod he utters a simple reply. “Understood.” No further logic needed.  

Returning his attention back to the opened door, Jim hands back the PADD to Spock’s out-stretched hand.  

“Thank you, Mr. Spock. Keep me apprised of the repairs.”

Bowing one last time, Spock turns and leaves at Jim’s polite dismissal.

Stepping away from the door, Jim gestures me inside like a smartly dressed doorman before following behind me. Dropping my bag, I’m astounded at the quarters I’ve been assigned. The pristine grey and white surfaces make the space seem all the grander, in size and amenities.  

“Um, Jim? How are these my quarters?”

“Perks of being a commander.”

Pockets of light splayed around the room set an uncharacteristically cozy atmosphere. The illuminations warmer tinge mimics that of a candle alight, sans the continuous flicker. That small, seemingly insignificant detail, betrays the common star ship adage, ‘efficiency before comfort’.  

“I’ve been a commander for 4 years and my quarters have never been this-” I trail off in awe as I begin to take in more of the details that surround me.  

A small kitchenette sits on the far-right wall, a gleaming replicator at the ready. Trills of excitement run through me at the sight of a small French press on the counter. I can already smell the heady aroma of my first cup of coffee. In the corner, along the same wall, is a doorway of what I believe is the bathroom. Situated in the middle of the room, is a modest entertaining area, fit with a round coffee table and love seat. The darker grey fabric is soft to the touch but undoubtedly durable.  

“Is Spock’s room this big?”

“Let’s just say we won’t be having game night in here.” Jim says, with the utmost diplomacy.  

“Good to know.”

Only a small space separates the back of the couch and the bed. And what a bed it is. Two people, if not three, could easily rest inside its plush borders. Why my mind decides that’s an adequate number, desirable even, I haven’t a clue. Shaking that thought away, I notice more of the small touches unique to the Enterprise.  

A thin strip of light wraps around the bed where the base and mattress meet. Efficient if emergency lighting is ever needed but will also combat the horrid stubbed toe when nature calls in the middle of the night. But suddenly, I’m drawn to the window in front of me. Beyond it is the clearest view of a nebula I’ve ever seen. Did my head get knocked around more than I thought? Because I swear, I can see individual particulates swirling. Reaching out, I place my hand against the glass. Oddly, its warm against my palm, not cold as you’d expect from something that touches the frigid harshness of space.  

“I knew you’d like that.” Jim says warmly, coming to stand beside me. “Who needs a telescope when you have one of these?” I retract my hand as my brow raises in silent question. Jim just chuckles. “Computer, on.” At once, the “window” comes to life and re-centers on a particular area of the nebula. Scrolling data on the right of the screen details all the atmospheric levels found there. “Now you can explore without ever leaving your room or if you want, your bed.” Jim enlarges a small section of the screen. The seemingly devoid area erupts into various embedded hot stars as it expands on the display, all possibly never seen by the human eye.  

“Jim, this is amazing. Truly.”  I say, meeting his eyes in a glassy side-long glance.

Jim rocks on his heels, hands tucked in his pockets. The corner of his mouth ticks up in a soft smile.  

“After everything you’ve been through,” Jim starts in a hushed tone, “who knew a simple planetary magnification display would be the thing to make you cry.”

A watery chuckle escapes me as Jim bumps my shoulder against his own.  

“We both know there’s nothing simple about this.”

Such sophisticated long-range tech is relegated to what is commanded by the Bridge or specialty items designed specifically for a project. It is most certainly not used for a personal window display of a curious commander.  

“I know, but I think it’s about time we gave a little back. Don’t you?”

“We?” I ask, not fully understanding why the lavish comforts I’ve been credited now originates from a plural body of unknown origin.  

“The Federation. Starfleet. Your crew.” Jim states simply, with a nonchalant shrug.  

I’m not exactly sure if I deserve this level of hospitality and universal concern but I nod at the underlying sentiment of displaying gratitude to those that have served honorably.  

“Why don’t you go change and I’ll meet you in Medbay. I need to check in with the bridge.”

I raise my hand in a dramatic mock salute. “Aye, aye Captain.”

Jim smiles in rueful admiration while shaking his head then turns to leave. Before he reaches the door, I call out to him. Facing him fully, I try find the words to adequately express my immense thanks. It’s not just about today but that he’s been championing me even while I was earth-side and he’s light-years away. Without the barrier of space or hologram display, my well-prepared thank-you-for-your-friendship speech dries on my tongue.  

With that bright grin of his, Jim senses the cause of my frustration and lets me off the hook.  

“Anytime, Danny.”  

After Jim leaves me to my own devices, I grab my bag and head to the bathroom to freshen up. Stripping off my jumpsuit, I step into the shower. I’m surprised to see there are two control panels.  

Sonic capabilities and real water. Now I’m just being spoiled.

I choose a sonic for its expediency and in short order I’m ready to pull on a new uniform. The uniform in my bag is perfectly suitable but it isn’t needed. Hanging by the shower is a fresh uniform, newly pressed. Lifting it to the light, a small white tag dangles in my view. It reads, ‘Welcome to the Enterprise’ in neat type. A warmth spreads throughout my chest as I shimmy into my crimson and black ensemble. Taming my bounteous curls takes longer than expected but eventually its slicked back in a neat bun. Admiring myself in the mirror display, I finally look like a proper commander.  

Leaving my quarters behind, I make my way to the Medbay. A soft burst of air brushes against my face as the doors automatically open at my approach. Blindly surveying the open space, every cataloged item is meticulously placed. The CMO must run a tight ship. You’d never know 11 patients came and went in less than an hour. Actually, make that 10 patients. A doctor, clad in science blue, leans over the only occupied bed. I’m sure, if he were to shift towards me, his medical insignia would be clearly visible. Ever so gently, he runs the dermal regenerator over the brow of his patient.  

Cocking his head to the side, he finally acknowledges my presence with a quick glance in my direction. I assume by the angle that he’s sitting, he’s only able to verify that there is in fact a person standing in his vicinity and the color of my uniform. Not bothering to break his concentration from his patient or call a nurse, the dark-haired doctor proceeds to inquire about my current physical condition.

“Cut, burn or concussion?” He says, with a weighty sigh.

“Excuse me?” I ask, coming closer.  

“Did you get cut, burned or whacked in the head?”

“None of the above, although you didn’t say anything about palpations, fever, or hives?” I add with blatant sarcasm. “Don’t mind me. I’ll be quietly dying in the corner over there.”

I hear a soft snort from the lounging figure on the Bio-bed before turning away to meander around. I wish I could see the doctor’s whole expression but the tightening of his jaw will have to do. Dark hair, probably an impressive scowl and distinct southern drawl. Why is that combination so familiar? Wait, did I just meet-

“Bones!” Jim bellows, as he walks into the Medbay.  

“Dang-it man, must you yell every time!”  

“I voluntarily came to Medbay. I thought you’d be happy.” Jim challenges, with a smirk.

Dr. McCoy straightens an imaginary crook in his neck with an audible growl, and continues his work.

I’ve heard quite a lot about the good doctor. Such as his snark and quick wit, lover of all things sweet and covered in honey, and his unlucky (his words) position as Jim’s best friend. But my favorite is his petulance for hating the color red and all the problems that shroud it in infamy, much like the ensign he just dismissed.  

“You’re all done, kid.” McCoy says, stripping off his gloves with a sharp pop. “Next time, try not runnin’ full speed into hangin’ debris would’ya?” McCoy stands and shoos his patient off the bed.

“Yes, doctor.” The young ensign says. He only pauses a moment to acknowledge Jim, quickly muttering ‘Captain’, before scurrying out the door.

It doesn’t escape my notice that unlike the newly healed ensign, Dr. McCoy is completely ignoring Jim and is in no rush to rectify it. Picking up the PADD clipped at the end of the bed, he scrolls and intermittently taps on the screen. Glancing up, his Jim sized problem has yet to disappear.

“What do you want Jim? I have a Medbay to run.” McCoy says, pinching the bridge of his nose after placing the PADD back in its place with a clatter.  

“Aw come on Bones. We live to explore another day and besides, I have a surprise for you.” Jim says jovially, clapping McCoy on the shoulder.  

“How ’bout you keep that to yourself. Your surprises tend to leave my antibiotic ointment supply low and my nurses skittish.”  

Now it’s my turn to snort into my hand. That’s all the confirmation I need that Jim is still, very much, still Jim. Somehow that’s both a comfort and deeply unsettling.  

“I just wanted to know if our latest transfer came by yet.” Jim says. Shifting his stance to the side, he meets my eyes expectantly. With McCoy’s back to me, he has no idea the new transfer is waiting patiently behind him to introduce herself.

Jim has wanted me to meet McCoy for quite some time. He often said his chosen drinking crew was in need of new blood, better bourbon and definitely new stories. He may have added something about thinking I was the best person to properly distract McCoy when he got in a mood. After threatening Jim with a hypo concoction that would leave him very excited and pitifully flaccid, he never brought that particular distraction up again.  

McCoy and I have had a few chances to meet over the years but something has always gotten in the way-class schedules, injuries, being in a completely different star system. You name it. Even in this short interaction between Jim and McCoy, I can already see I’ve been deeply deprived.  

“No, and why am I just seein’ him now. He should have been in here months ago.” McCoy says in exasperation, throwing his hands up. “No tellin’ what he’s been spreadin’ around.”  

“I assure you I haven’t been spreadin’ anything around,” I say, pulling the attention of both men. “We can confirm that whenever you’d like.

Walking towards them, McCoy’s gaze follows me from the tips of my toes until he finally meets my eyes. He keeps his composure far better than most men I’ve met but his eyes still round in surprise. My height usually has that effect. We meet men, women, and all those that fall in between. They vary in color, creed, planetary origin and corporeal state or lack thereof. The permutations are unfathomable and from youth onward, we’ve been taught not bat an eye. But a woman that can look you in the eye is still shocking. Coming closer, McCoy stands the tiniest bit straighter.  

“But no rush. I just hitched a ride on four starships, tracked you here using virtually scraps of data, and drained my ship in a battle protecting you. But please, take your time.” I relax my hip against a cabinet and twirl some sort of metal apparatus I picked up from the counter around my finger. Facing me head on, McCoy crosses his arms as he stares me down. I don’t think he likes the notion of anyone presuming to put him on their timetable.  

“Wait, that was you doin’ all that fancy flying?” He asks me incredulously.

“Is that your version of a thank you? Oh, I forgot. Unless an engineer is under your watchful eye, we pose an imminent threat to ourselves but most importantly, your sanity.”

McCoy next words halt as his mouth hangs slightly agape. A rapid flutter of confusion passes over his eyes as his lips purse in contemplation.  

“You’ll have to excuse me but, have we met?” McCoy finally says.  

“Not officially. I’m just the red that was slowly dying from an arrhythmia, pyrexia, and anaphylaxis.”  

McCoy’s eyes begin to narrow in what I can only guess is his favorite go-to glare and I nibble the inside of my cheek to keep my burgeoning smile at bay. Flicking my eyes to Jim, his smirk has grown into a knowing cheshire grin. He’s thoroughly enjoying the volley between McCoy and I. Honestly, so am I.

“You also may have heard about me from a mutual friend.” I continue.  

Jim has never squandered an opportunity to regale me with the many shenanigans he’s dragged McCoy into. More often than not, he whines about how McCoy takes sick pleasure in smothering every idea he has in common sense before he can fan it into a career defining romp. It’s astounding how easily Jim shrugs off the irony of that statement. Sadly, I think McCoy fails far more than he succeeds. So, I have no doubt Jim’s spoken of our previous escapades as well.

Laying the metal thing-a-ma-bob back down, I extend my hand toward McCoy. “Commander Gemma Danvers. Nice to meet you.”

Flashing a devastatingly handsome crooked smile, McCoy grasps my proffered hand with a soft pressure. “Pleasures all mine.” Gentle creases line his eyes from finally putting a face with the name. “Leonard McCoy.”  He says, introducing himself. “But somethin’ tells me you already knew that.”  

Hmm, where did Lieutenant Grumpy Pants go?

My own smile grows wider in response. “And you’d be correct.” McCoy’s warm gaze draws me in further. I should feel awkward that our joined hands are still slowly moving in unison but watching such a bewitching shade a green has left my senses muted to anything else. After McCoy releases my hand, I quickly clasp them behind my back and take a minuscule step back. Time to get down to business. “So, do you have time for a physical?”

“Always.” McCoy says, without hesitation.