Diversions & Digressions | fanfiction by mara

Enterprise Drabbles

Enterprise Drabbles

by Mara

Summary: A series of unconnected drabbles. Mood, setting, and pairing will vary.

1. Strike Up the Band

Hoshi almost laughed as Enterprise headed toward the Expanse. The whole
departure felt oddly anticlimactic, as if someone should march beside them
playing drum and fife, trumpeting the songs of war.

Because Enterprise–Earth’s first warp five ship, built for peaceful
exploration–was off to war.

She was there because of loyalty, others had stayed for revenge. Earth had never
known such a devastating attack and floundered in its wake, but Starfleet knew
what to do.

In her mind, the band played as Enterprise went to warp.

She couldn’t tell if it was a victory march or a funeral dirge.

2. Help Unasked for

“I don’t want any damn lessons on suppressing my emotions,” Trip snarled, trying
to close the door.

T’Pol stopped it with a hand. “I was not suggesting that. Although it might make
the atmosphere more…pleasant for me, it would not be appropriate for you.”

“Then why’d you drag your Vulcan ass here?”

“To help you find constructive ways to express those emotions. But I can see I
was mistaken–you do not wish my assistance.”

T’Pol allowed her expression to look ever so slightly crestfallen.

Trip grimaced, but his upbringing kicked in. “It’s not…it’s just…”

T’Pol waited.

“Fine. Come in.”

* * * * *

Yes indeedy, folks, it’s Mara’s take on what TIIC *should* mean by their
references to a Tu/T “relationship.” Look, Ma, no sex! It’s all about teamwork
and friendship 😉

This was expanded to a full story after the first episode of Season 3, using the same name.

3. All Signs Point to

Sunburnt and disheveled, the crew huddled around Hoshi as she punched buttons on
the UT, her eyes a bit wild.

“No more leave on planets that don’t allow shuttles,” Malcolm muttered, eyeing
the jostling crowd of aliens.

“We’ll talk about it when we get back,” Jon said, trying to see what Hoshi was
doing.

T’Pol tilted her head. “Ensign, perhaps if you–”

“Be QUIET!” Hoshi’s face turned red as her crewmates and a nearby party of
three-legged aliens stared at her.

“What do the signs say?” Jon asked gently.

“I don’t know. Something about…lemmings? Egrets? That can’t be right.”
“Traveling Blues”

T’Pol was startled by the sight of crewmembers staggering aboard after a
diplomatic mission to a friendly planet. Taken aback, she couldn’t frame a
question.

Jon held up his hand. “Don’t ask.”

“Captain–”

Trip stopped trying to scrape gunk off his boots long enough to scowl at her.
“They lost our luggage. The building had no air conditioning. We all got food
poisoning. Our vehicle got stuck in a swamp and we had to walk out. Can I go
take a shower now?”

Jon waved.

Trip stomped away, his voice drifting back. “I’m never leaving the damn ship
again.”

4. Freedom’s Just Another Word

Travis sits at his station, staring out at the stars. There’s not much for a
navigator/pilot to do, no ships, no nearby planets to investigate, not even any
interesting stellar phenomena. Just space dust.

Which leaves him too much time to think.

He thinks about his family, the Horizon, how badly he wanted to leave and join
Starfleet. Family stifled him, especially in their close confines.

In Starfleet, Travis figured, he’d be free to go his own way, never haul freight
again.

He never realized that freedom would mean losing so many of the things that were
important to him.

5. Editorial Discretion

Damn it, Hoshi, can’t T’Pol leave my reports alone?” Trip paced the length of
his quarters, forcing her to duck his flailing arms and perch in the chair.

“Relax, Trip, it’s part of her job,” she said. “Besides, nobody expects you to
be a good writer.”

“Thanks for the support,” he growled.

“I just meant–”

“I know what you meant.” Trip leaned against the wall and crossed his arms,
pouting.

She sighed. “What did she change that’s annoying you?”

Trip flushed a brilliant red. “The first paragraph now says that the problem was
‘excessive coupling in the warp coils.'”

6. I Can’t Be Bothered Now

The lush music swelled, sounding as if he’d tucked an orchestra into the
bulkhead. Despite the close quarters, Jon contrived to swing Hoshi in a circle,
dip, and dance on. Her cheeks felt warm–she laughed, misgivings swept away in
sheer joy.

“I didn’t even know you could dance.” She’d forgotten how happy it made her to
move with another person like this.

Jon grinned and executed an intricate little step around her feet. “For you, I
can do anything.”

She looked away as his smile had the usual volcano effect on her insides. “What
brought this on?”

Jon sang:

“I’m up among the stars
On earthly things I frown
I’m throwing off the bars that held me down.

I’ll pay the piper
When times are riper
Just now, I shan’t.
Because you see I’m dancing and I can’t be bothered now.”

* * * * *

Okay, to be technical, it’s 100 words if you don’t count the song lyrics. Hey,
I’m trying to cheer somebody up here, okay? ::grin::

7. Cheek to Cheek (sequel to I Can’t Be Bothered Now)

Although busy dancing–their second favorite activity–Hoshi tried to read Jon’s
expression. The message they’d received from Starfleet was unequivocal:
Enterprise was recalled to Earth, to be replaced by newer, faster ships.

As Jon swung her around his quarters, they automatically avoided stepping on
Porthos. Her stomach was knotted with conflicting emotions–bubbling joy at the
touch of her partner, and concern for his happiness.

“Jon,” she said breathlessly, “are you okay?”

“Never better.” He managed to sneak in a kiss without dropping a step, his
dancing only improved over the years.

“No regrets? Truly?”

Without pausing, he sang:

“Oh I love to climb a mountain
And reach the highest peak.
But it doesn’t thrill me half as much
As dancing cheek to cheek.”

8. Friends Don’t Let Friends Sneeze Alone

Hoshi lay in her bunk, surrounded by the necessary accoutrements: tissues, a
glass of water, and medications. She was laid low by the common cold and there
wasn’t a damn thing modern medicine could do except ease the symptoms. Slightly.

Phlox found it amusing, probably because Denobulans don’t get colds. Her door
chimed and she sneezed, tearing at her already painfully sore throat.

“Hi, Hoshi,” Trip said, stepping in, “I brought you some things.”

She tried to glare, but it took too much energy. “I thought I said everybody
should leave me to die.”

“Well, until that happens, here’s some stuff that might help.”

Curiosity got the better of her. “What?”

Balancing the box, Trip pulled up a chair and sat down next to her. “Let’s see.”
He rummaged a bit. “Chef sent you chicken soup, his mom’s recipe.” Out came a
pot, heavenly-smelling even through her stuffed nose. Next he hauled out two
padds. “And to keep you busy, Liz sent trashy novels and Malcolm sent crossword
puzzles.”

Dazed, she took the padds. “Oh.”

“I brought company, so you’ll know you’re not forgotten.”

Hoshi dabbed her eyes. “Thank you, Trip, and thank everyone else.”

“Hey, what are friends for?”

* * * * *

Yup, you guessed it, I’ve got a cold. Write what you know and all that.

9. Travis’s Decision

Travis stood in front of Jon, expression sad but stubborn. “I’d like to request
a transfer, sir,” he said.

“But why?”

“I don’t feel you’re using me to my full potential.”

A wave of sadness came over Jon. “I wish you’d said something sooner, Travis.
You’re a valuable member of this crew. But if you’re sure…”

“I am.” Travis was having trouble staying calm, his jaw working furiously.

“In that case, I’ll approve your transfer. Dismissed, Ensign.”

“Thank you, sir.” Travis turned and reached for the button to open the door.
“Oh, one more thing, Captain.”

“What’s that?”

“April Fool!”

10. Stiff Upper Lip

Starfleet armory officers undergo fairly rigorous training, and Malcolm had
applied himself to that training with great energy. Some of it he never talked
about, such as learning how to survive torture and interrogation.

Malcolm suspected his teachers had no clue how that training would be applied
once he was in the field.

As he eyed his adversary, he wondered just how much he would be forced to reveal
in order to escape. Perhaps he might be able to make a run through that door…

“So, Malcolm,” Captain Archer said as he sipped his orange juice, “how are
things going?”

11. Morning Surprises

Lying in the warm bed, the thought crossed Hoshi’s mind that she did *not* drink
alcohol and now she remembered why: a splitting headache combined with no memory
of the previous evening.

Eventually it penetrated her brain that an arm lay across her chest, hand
nestled in an indelicate location. Head tilted down, she considered the hand. A
man’s hand, it looked like…oh my…it looked like…

“Hoshi?” Jon–sounding confused and half-awake–murmured into her ear.

Frozen in something between horror and lust, she couldn’t respond. The hand, it
belonged to…

“Jon?” Trip asked. “Since when do you have breasts?”

* * * * *

This drabble is stexgirl2000’s reward for being one of three winners of my Anti-
Marriage Protection Week Contest. She’d asked for either A/Tu/S, A/Tu/T, or
R/Tu/S.

12. Weather or Not

The captain, Hoshi thought, was unbearably cheerful about the situation and she
didn’t know why. She fanned herself, moving muggy air across her face.

Jon peered through the window “Well, we won’t be leaving until the rain stops. I
can’t see a meter.”

She frowned. “If we’d left when I–”

“I know, we’d be back on Enterprise already.”

“Well, yes.” She swallowed, uncertain of the look in his eyes.

“But if we were on Enterprise, I couldn’t do this.” Leaning forward, he reached
out.

Hoshi’s eyes widened.

Jon tickled her stomach, and her laughter echoed through the rainy day.

* * * * *

This drabble was written for Stexgirl2000 🙂

13. Gossip Makes the World Go Round

Hoshi stomped into the room. “Do you know, I think we’re going to have to reveal
our secret, because the gossip is driving me absolutely INSANE!”

“Which gossip?”

“Oh, people claim that I exchange ‘significant glances’ with Malcolm on the
bridge.”

“Do you?”

“No! Of course not. And I distinctly heard Alison say that the captain and I had
chemistry together.”

“Ah.”

“And Liz insists that I’m watching Trip’s ass. And Travis’ shoulders.”

“Really.”

“Yes, really.” Hoshi leaned over and kissed T’Pol’s nose, her expression
impudent. “I know, Vulcans don’t get jealous. But you can’t blame a girl for
trying.”

* * * * *

This drabble is seema’s reward for being one of three winners of my Anti-
Marriage Protection Week Contest. She asked for something with Hoshi.

14. Picnic Problems

“Trip…an insect is stealing our picnic,” Hoshi said.

Basking in the alien sunshine that warmed his bones, Trip waved a hand at her
and didn’t open his eyes. “Well, I don’t begrudge an ant some of Chef’s
excellent brisket, do you?”

“Normally, I wouldn’t. But we might want to do something.”

Trip yawned, breathing in the floral-scented air as he opened his eyes. “Hoshi,
what are you talking ab–”

The “ant” was royal blue, with too many hairy legs for Trip to count. It was
also five feet tall and carrying the entire picnic basket in its mouth.

“Aaaaahhhh!”

15. Nice Work If You Can Get It

Hoshi waved at Malcolm as he picked up his dinner, and came over. “I’m sorry to
hear you won’t be joining us for shore leave,” he said, sitting down.

“Yeah, that’s too bad.” Trip poked at his fish. “I’ll almost feel bad having
fun.”

“Don’t do that,” Hoshi said. “I’m sure I’ll keep busy.”

Trip frowned. “Don’t work too hard.”

Twenty-four hours later, she sank back in bed with a sigh, picking up the first
linguistics journal in her pile. She sorted through her box of emergency
chocolate, choosing a coconut cream.

“Ah, nice work if you can get it.”

16. Peaks and Troughs

Jon held a padd, but instead of reading engineering specs he stared out at the
stars. When his door chimed, he jumped, unsure how long he’d been staring.

“Come in.”

It only took a second for Malcolm to accurately assess the situation. “Moping
again?”

Jon glared. “That’s ‘Moping again, *Captain*.'”

But Malcolm just chuckled softly–undeterred–and leaned against the side of the
desk.

Sighing, Jon turned away to look at the stars again. “I don’t know. Everything
just seems so…flat. I’m another year older and what have I really
accomplished? I’m captain of a ship in the Bermuda Triangle of outer space,
hoping we won’t all get killed.”

“It’s not unusual, you know, to feel like this right now.” Malcolm paused,
taking a deep breath. “We all know what we signed up for.”

“That doesn’t help much, right now.”

Hands descended on his shoulders, warm and solid and comforting. “I know. And
I’m here for you.”

“Thanks.”

“Maybe if you’d ventured out of your ready room today, your mood would be
improved.”

Puzzled, Jon craned his head to look at Malcolm. “If I…oh no.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Hoshi may never forgive you for ruining her surprise birthday party.”

“Good grief.”

* * * * *

This story has a double purpose: to cheer up Mareel and to meet Stexgirl2000’s
challenge to write ships I don’t usually write. It’s dedicated, however, to Avi.
For reasons he’d understand.

17. Monsters in Starfleet Uniforms

“Monsters! They’re monsters, I tell you!” Hoshi stamped into Jon’s ready room,
waving a padd like a sword.

Only force of will kept him from jumping out of her way as she stuck it under
his nose. “What?”

“I refuse to participate in a travesty like this. If they insist, I’ll resign, I
swear.” Her face was red and eyes narrowed in anger.

“Who? What’s wrong?”

“The admirals, that’s who. Not only are they monsters, they’re all perverts.”

Taken aback, Jon could only stare.

“Have you seen these proposed uniforms? Have you seen how short the skirts are?
They’re monsters!”

* * * * *

Okay, I’ll admit it. I stole the idea of referring to the TOS uniforms from
somebody at in the LiveJournal roleplaying group NX01messhall. I can’t remember
who it was, but someone (Taryn? Stexgirl?) used it for a couple of throwaway
jokes. It worked so perfectly for a drabble that I’m hoping whoever it was will
forgive me. ::puppy dog eyes::

18. Letters From Far Away

Dear Cousin:

Stop worrying. I mean it! I don’t know why you think your Mom and Dad will
disapprove, but forget it. Sure they’ll miss you, but they’ll also be proud that
you, Ivan, and little Anika plan to emigrate to one of the new colonies.

Hey, just because the Mayweathers have been pilots since the days of ol’ Travis
doesn’t mean we can’t do other things. Expanding humanity’s reach is the kind of
thing our ancestor would’ve loved. After all, even *he* settled down eventually.
Adventures aren’t for everyone, and neither is Starfleet.

Love from the USS Piscataway,
Andrew

19. It’s All In Your Perspective

She wondered why the trees were moving. Hoshi was pretty certain that wasn’t
supposed to happen, even if she couldn’t remember why she was lying down.

“Why are the trees moving?” she mumbled.

“What?” one of the trees asked.

“Where are you going?”

“What’s she talking about, Phlox?” another tree said.

A branch waved over her face. “Perhaps she was hit harder than we thought,
Captain.”

“Talking trees,” she giggled. “Neat!” She watched with fuzzy amusement as
several trees shuffled around her quickly, each with a slightly different color
of bark.

“We’re not trees, Hoshi.”

“That’s what they always say.”

20. They Can’t Take That Away From Me

Malcolm didn’t think he was a romantic and he wasn’t good at expressing his
emotions. This might, in some quarters, be a virtue–if not a necessity–in his
present circumstances. But Malcolm found he couldn’t agree.

T’Pol touched her fingers to his head, and her words echoed in both mind and
ears. “Live long and prosper,” she said, stepping back.

“I’ll find a way…”

“It is possible.”

So that’s what ‘heart in your throat’ meant, he realized. “Don’t forget me.”

“I could not.”

The door slid closed. Malcolm closed his eyes and breathed in the last of her
scent.

* * * * *

Somebody asked me nicely to write this couple for them and now I’ve forgotten
who. Anyway, as part of my continuing quest to write *something* for as many
different ships as possible, here’s another ship checked off the list 🙂

21. The Stories We Tell

She felt tears in her eyes as she beheld the small crying child, curled in a
ball, shutting out the cruel adult world. His grandmother saw her own sadness
reflected.

“I’m here, Johnny.” She sat on the couch and pulled him into her lap.

“Grandma,” he said, raising his red face to hers. “Grandpa’s not coming back.”

“Yes, dear, I know.” She swallowed her own sadness. “But if we remember him,
he’s not completely gone.”

The child sniffled and Hoshi hugged him. “Did your Grandpa Malcolm ever tell you
about the time he faced down an entire room of Klingons?”


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