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OPEN: Canon-Compliant
Scenario #1: Your Universe...
There is an old Russian saying: nothing in life is certain but death and taxes.
This is an outdated saying, of course, because the United Federation of Planets does not tax its citizens, so Lieutenant Pavel Andreievich Chekov much prefers his own version: Nothing is certain in life but death and Enterprise missions going horribly awry.
Today's proof: what began as a relatively simple negotiation on the Antaran homeworld has deteriorated rather rapidly. Because the universe is never satisfied with a single mishap, negotiations devolved into running away from angry Antarans mere moments before the Enterprise reported an oncoming ion storm. Captain Kirk and Lieutenant Uhura had beamed safely aboard before electromagnetic interference from the storm had a chance to destabilize the transporter's lock-on.
Chekov, however, is not so fortunate.
The tingle and glow of the transporter's initial phase dissipates around him, torn apart by the rising wind. Chekov is fast, but the hostile Antarans are gaining rapidly.
"Scotty," he hisses into his crackling comm, "now would be good!"
He can almost make out Chief Engineer Scott's voice in the answering static. "...stay ... try--"
"Try harder, please!"
Perhaps Scotty hears him because, just as the Antarans come into view, the telltale glow of the transporter envelopes the Russian. It seems that death, inevitable though it is, won't be coming for him today.
He rethinks this once his surroundings solidify around him. Instead of the Enterprise's transporter room, he's in a wholly unfamiliar place. "Derr'mo..."
Scenario #2: ...Or Mine?
Starbase 17, operating under Starfleet but staffed largely by civilian scientists, is the Enterprise's first return to charted space since leaving on its five-year mission. It also happens to be located near a hotbed of anomalous subspace activity, the discovery of which had prompted the starbase's creation nearly a hundred years ago. Ruptures, distortions, fractures -- the space surrounding the outpost has it all and, more recently, the anomalies have been appearing in the base itself.
This was the primary reason for Captain Kirk's detour into Federation space: provide support for Starbase 17's scientists as they investigate the increased activity. Most of the Enterprise's crew is treating the stopover as a vacation, making the most of the starbase's (somewhat limited, as its design is old and less spacious than more modern bases) recreational facilities. For the science officers aboard, however, it is another mission.
Pavel Andreievich Chekov is not technically a science officer, but Commander Spock has recruited him regardless. "Being a well-rounded genius can be such a burden," he opines to the computer before him as he scans through the local scientists' most recent reports.
The computer does not respond. No one else does either; the local scientists have retired for the evening, and Commander Spock had seen no sense in sending more than one (extremely capable, thank you) officer to search the base's archives.
Chekov sighs and pushes away from the computer console. He loves his work and no one appreciates a good subspace anomaly like he does, but a drink and a conversation with someone who doesn't live on the Enterprise would be very welcome right now.
"I would at least like to see an anomaly for myself," the Russian tells the empty room.
As if in answer, the air on the other side of the room begins to crackle with an unusual energy. White-blue sparks spring into being and dance in mid-air, forming a thin horizontal line.
Chekov immediately reaches for his tricorder, only to remember that he didn't bring it with him. He grabs his holstered phaser instead. With the utmost caution -- anomalies can be very dangerous, and what can potentially come out of them can be more hazardous still -- the Russian approaches the growing anomaly.
There is an old Russian saying: nothing in life is certain but death and taxes.
This is an outdated saying, of course, because the United Federation of Planets does not tax its citizens, so Lieutenant Pavel Andreievich Chekov much prefers his own version: Nothing is certain in life but death and Enterprise missions going horribly awry.
Today's proof: what began as a relatively simple negotiation on the Antaran homeworld has deteriorated rather rapidly. Because the universe is never satisfied with a single mishap, negotiations devolved into running away from angry Antarans mere moments before the Enterprise reported an oncoming ion storm. Captain Kirk and Lieutenant Uhura had beamed safely aboard before electromagnetic interference from the storm had a chance to destabilize the transporter's lock-on.
Chekov, however, is not so fortunate.
The tingle and glow of the transporter's initial phase dissipates around him, torn apart by the rising wind. Chekov is fast, but the hostile Antarans are gaining rapidly.
"Scotty," he hisses into his crackling comm, "now would be good!"
He can almost make out Chief Engineer Scott's voice in the answering static. "...stay ... try--"
"Try harder, please!"
Perhaps Scotty hears him because, just as the Antarans come into view, the telltale glow of the transporter envelopes the Russian. It seems that death, inevitable though it is, won't be coming for him today.
He rethinks this once his surroundings solidify around him. Instead of the Enterprise's transporter room, he's in a wholly unfamiliar place. "Derr'mo..."
Scenario #2: ...Or Mine?
Starbase 17, operating under Starfleet but staffed largely by civilian scientists, is the Enterprise's first return to charted space since leaving on its five-year mission. It also happens to be located near a hotbed of anomalous subspace activity, the discovery of which had prompted the starbase's creation nearly a hundred years ago. Ruptures, distortions, fractures -- the space surrounding the outpost has it all and, more recently, the anomalies have been appearing in the base itself.
This was the primary reason for Captain Kirk's detour into Federation space: provide support for Starbase 17's scientists as they investigate the increased activity. Most of the Enterprise's crew is treating the stopover as a vacation, making the most of the starbase's (somewhat limited, as its design is old and less spacious than more modern bases) recreational facilities. For the science officers aboard, however, it is another mission.
Pavel Andreievich Chekov is not technically a science officer, but Commander Spock has recruited him regardless. "Being a well-rounded genius can be such a burden," he opines to the computer before him as he scans through the local scientists' most recent reports.
The computer does not respond. No one else does either; the local scientists have retired for the evening, and Commander Spock had seen no sense in sending more than one (extremely capable, thank you) officer to search the base's archives.
Chekov sighs and pushes away from the computer console. He loves his work and no one appreciates a good subspace anomaly like he does, but a drink and a conversation with someone who doesn't live on the Enterprise would be very welcome right now.
"I would at least like to see an anomaly for myself," the Russian tells the empty room.
As if in answer, the air on the other side of the room begins to crackle with an unusual energy. White-blue sparks spring into being and dance in mid-air, forming a thin horizontal line.
Chekov immediately reaches for his tricorder, only to remember that he didn't bring it with him. He grabs his holstered phaser instead. With the utmost caution -- anomalies can be very dangerous, and what can potentially come out of them can be more hazardous still -- the Russian approaches the growing anomaly.
no subject
"I'd like to know your name, for instance. And your mouse's name, too." Chapel picks her datapad back up and takes a seat in a low stool by the girl's biobed. "Would you be more comfortable if I had Mr. Chekov leave?"
Mr. Chekov is a little put out by this offer, but Chapel knows best.
no subject
"El," she answers awkwardly. "And this is Precious."
It's...really weird, having to introduce herself to people. Since entering the Scholomance, everyone's already known her name -- and wanted nothing to do with her. The fact that neither Mr. Chekov nor Dr. Chapel seem to register the negative energy that's driven most people away her entire life is also surprisingly uncomfortable, like walking into a different branch of a chain grocery store.
She needs time to think. Not just to process everything that's happened, but to figure out her next course of action so she can act and not just react. But she can't just ask to be left alone or for access to a library or a computer or something, not while the doctor is clearly trying to determine whether she represents a threat to their starbase.
Since El's never been an actor, she settles for just answering Dr. Chapel's questions with as little information as possible and hoping the woman leaves soon.
no subject
Chapel nods and notes the girl's name (and the mouse's, for completion's sake). She's pleased that El is remaining calm and willing to communicate, but she's going to try to keep this as brief as possible. The girl seems reluctant to speak to her. Some peace and quiet might do her some good.
And, to be honest, Chapel wants to cut the interview short for her own sake. Something about El unnerves her.
"Thank you, El," Chapel says pleasantly. "I just have one more question: where and when are you from?"
this is all canonicaly accurate but i promise she's not an angst muffin in the books lmao
"Er...2021, Wales...Earth?"
An irrational panic began building in her chest. Technically speaking, the Scholomance didn't exist on Earth -- it occupied a void only loosely connected to the U.K., so that it would be more difficult for mals to break into the school and attack the vulnerable children. But it's not like she was born in the void. And it's not like she's bothered by the concept of the void; she'd slept next to an opening into the abyss for four years. There's absolutely no reason for this question to trigger a panic attack, except she can hear her mother saying Our bodies aren't rational, love and Sometimes people fall apart because it's finally safe enough to let go.
I love you, have courage, and stay far away from Orion Lake.
She chokes, almost bruising her throat as she stifled a sob. She wants to scream so loudly the universe puts itself to rights just to shut her up. She wants to tear a hole through the fabric of reality until she feels her mother's arms around her. She wants to kick Orion in the nuts so hard it rewinds time and he never pushes her through that damn gate.
And of course, because she's Galadriel, "all shall love me and despair," prophesized to a fate so heinous her devoutly non-violent extended family thought about killing her ... she doesn't come across as sad or vulnerable or in any way sympathetic. She looks like she's ready to blow up a planet.
it's been a rough day!
"Thank you," Chapel responds, already taking a few steps back. "You've had a long night. You can rest here until the captain is prepared to meet you. There's a shower room behind the door to your right, along with a clothing dispenser." And with that, Chapel excuses herself to a desk on the other side of the medbay. She has a good view of the entire room, as well as both exits, from that vantage point; El won't be able to go anywhere undetected.
Chapel hasn't forgotten about medbay's other occupant in her haste to put some distance between herself and El. "Mr Chekov, you may finish your report here or in your quarters. If you choose your quarters, I'd advise you to stay there until you're called."
"Yes sir," Chekov answers, getting to his feet. He looks from El to Chapel, somewhat perplexed by Chapel's behavior. The girl seems angry, yes, but it's not like the doctor to walk away from a patient, especially one who is experiencing some kind of emotional turmoil. He cautiously approaches El.
"The technology here is likely not what you are used to," he says. She'll likely be able to figure out the shower and the dispenser -- medbay has a traditional water shower, and the clothing dispenser is a simple touchscreen menu -- but it's bound to be a little strange for her. "Would you like me to show you how the facilities are operated? Or, ah... if you want to know more about where you are, there is a very good library that you can access from any pad."
Chekov sets the datapad down on the chair that Chapel had previously occupied (he already opened a guest account for El while he was pretending to work on his report, in the off chance that she'd want to use the device herself) and then steps back awkwardly. Chekov feels responsible for the girl -- he is, after all, the reason she's here and not secured in Starbase 17's brig -- and he'd like to make sure she's comfortable before heading to his quarters, but he also doesn't want to make her angrier.
no subject
“Thanks,” she says, reaching for the pad. She’s never used a tablet before, but she’ll figure it out. She has to.
no subject
Chekov waves to both Chapel and El and retreats to his quarters, wondering the whole way if he has made a very dire mistake.
[ooc: Part II!]