WIPpet Wednesday: When the Limb Breaks…

Welcome to WIPpet Wednesday, a weekly blog hop which encourages writers to move WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date. It is hosted by the lovely K.L. Schwengel, maven of bad boys, stock dogs, and flying monkeys!

It’s been an odd week for me, so far. Things got thrown a bit out of kilter during my time-traveling, and haven’t quite settled, yet. So I’m still more or less winging it, trying to deal with things and regain my equilibrium.

Kinda like today’s WIPpet. Equilibrium seems to be in short supply for our two canoodling characters, who we left in a rather intense lip-lock…

How about you? Are you feeling balanced, or a little swept away by life or romance or even chaos?

Today’s snippet comes from The IDIC Romance, my Story A Day May Challenge: Star Trek: Enterprise fan fiction, exploration of the interspecies relationship of T’Pol and Trip. I’ll be sharing the remainder of this story, and a Twitter fiction, before we give Trip and T’Pol some much-needed privacy.

Disclaimer: T’Pol, Trip, and all the rest of Star Trek are property of CBS/Paramount; no copyright infringement intended. I just want to play with them, and I’m careful!

Story a Day is just that- a story every day in May. To make the challenge more interesting for myself, I used all of the prompts offered throughout the month. The stories are sequential, with various tones, POVs, and voices.

For those keeping track:

This is the seventh installment of Story #4, “Tigress T’Pol” . The prompt was to write a story of exactly 2000 words. An additional guest prompt from Heidi Durrow invited us to explore passion in this story.

WIPpet Math:

  • Today is August 20, 2014.
  • 20 sentences, nice and simple.

This snippet follows immediately after last week’s WIPpet, The Happiest Human on Rigel 10. Trip and T’Pol, together in a cell, have succumbed to the temptation to explore their mutual attraction…but just how far will this go?

This is an add-on scene for the pilot episode: “Broken Bow Part 1”. Ive done my best to extrapolate without violating series canon.

T’Pol let go of my uniform, wriggled her hand free; her trembling index and middle fingers uncurling and drifting in the air just above my shoulder, then tracing the path down my arm to my hand. Her pupils were so dilated, her eyes seemed almost black, pulling me in, begging me wordlessly to touch my fingertips to hers. I fumbled my fingers into a matching position, and hers found them with the force of a diamagnetic pull ,sizzling from our joined fingertips, into my arm, through my whole body, like a tiny line of plasma fire. T’Pol shuddered, moaning her urgent breath into my mouth, and I could feel her; feel the same fire moving through her, through us both, together, pulling us closer, somehow, than our bodies could get -

Desire swallowed us whole, and we were sliding down the wall, bodies straining and frantic, when T’Pol pulled her mouth a little away, and whispered something in Vulcan.

Huh?”

Kroykah,” she panted, and her eyes were wild with something I didn’t understand any more than the Vulcan word. T’Pol swallowed, hard, and stared at me, as though she had to remember how to say it in English. “S-Stop,” she stuttered, even though her body was still getting all tangled up in mine.

Aww, hell…” I gritted my teeth and wished for a second that I wasn’t a gentleman as I let go of her, trying valiantly to convince my bloodflow to shift so I could actually think. T’Pol stiffened and took a half step backwards, watching me with impossibly wide, glittering eyes. “I’m sorry, Subcommander. I was way out of line. It won’t happen again.” What the hell had I been thinking, anyway, kissing T’Pol -our damned Vulcan “chaperone”? Usually, my problem with women was that I was too shy; with T’Pol, I didn’t seem to know when to stop.

“You’ve done nothing wrong.” Her voice was soft and hesitant; her gaze darted up almost to my eyes, then jerked away, like she maybe was afraid to look at me, now. “It’s I who should apologize for my – atypical – lapse of control.”

What happened to break that limb trip was out on, and spook T’Pol? Will Trip be able to recover? Will she? And how long are they going to be locked in this cell, and do they really even care, anymore?

You guessed it – you can watch the episode, or come back next week for another WIPpet snippet!

Story A Day excerpt and commentary…

Full original version of the story…

These posts are the seeds of a project I’ll be expanding in 2015, so your input is always valuable. No need to feel shy; I’m a friendly sort, and will keep my phase pistol on stun… for the most part. ;)

SoCS: Terran Time in a Vulcan Life

This post is part of Linda G.Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday meme.

Rules and this week’s prompt.

The idea is simple – post an unedited stream of consciousness piece that ties into the weekly prompt.

This week’s prompt is to write a post that uses time as its theme.

I’m in a bit more of a hurry than I usually am. The kids and I are off on a time-traveling adventure a bit later in the day; I’ve got just a couple hours in which to catch a nap before we set out for the

Sterling Rennaisance Festival. It’s the last weekend of the season, so we are seizing the day, and I’m even going to get to see a friend I haven’t seen since my wedding day nearly 17 years ago!

Rather than deal with real life time-shocks, I’m playing with fan fiction, this week. Disclaimer: Yes, Paramount owns them, and I play with them, for love, not money. Enjoy!

We said nothing else to one another, until we reached the courtyard of Sarek’s home. My time sense was still unreliable; but a glance at the sky showed that Eridani 40 was nearly a sunlength above the horizon, and I could feel that my skin was beginning to tighten with the exposure to even this weak sunlight.

“I will prepare the morning meal, Sarek.” I stepped aside, as a guest, and allowed him to pass and open the gate. An eyebrow lifted slightly, but he did not look at me; I had not yet given him leave to do so, I realized.

“There is no need, my son. Your mother left the servitor fully programmed; you will find your preferences well represented, and I am capable of making my own selections.” There was an assumption in his words; one I knew I must address at once, before it became the nature of this interaction.

“It is traditional for an adult guest in another’s home to prepare the morning repast, Sarek. You honor me by allowing me to fulfill that tradition while I shelter in your home.”

The silence stretched out, to the persistent meter of Mother’s floor chronometer, which had also a Terran name, ‘grandmother clock’. When I was small, I had asked Mother to translate the name, and she had given an explanation that sprang to new life in my dreams, but offered little in the way of factual knowledge. However, the stories she had told me – Earth stories, stories of humans being human upon a human world – were all bound up somehow in the omnipresent ticking of the Terran clock, the gentle measured swaying of its pendulum behind etched glass. It was a human invention, and yet it soothed something within me that I knew was Vulcan, in some way that I could not define.

“This is your home, Spock.” I was surprised almost to the point of turning to look directly at him. There had been a strong shading of emotion in the words. I resisted it with the three deep breaths, with concentration on the tick-tocking (a sound-name Mother had given; far too imprecise to describe the layers and textures I heard in the mechanical workings). I did not hasten to answer – that was the human way, and Sarek was Vulcan. But I possessed human impulses that could not be erased, and so I must do something while I was not saying the words that seemed to burn within me, demanding freedom. I set my bag upon the bench beside the inner door, and propped my lyre against it.

“It is not, Sarek.” I attempted to keep each word neutral, but, once they had voice, they emerged in a challenge. I moved to the kitchen in the ensuing silence, and passed my hands under the sanitizing sonics before going out through the sunroom to see what was ready for harvest in the small but prolific kitchen garden.

I was gone as long as I could safely be, and remain protected by the cowl of my robe. I had no desire to return to the house, but, logically, I must, both for safety and to secure the needed permission to travel.

Sarek had settled himself in the sunroom, with a small stack of datapads. He said nothing as I entered; nor did I. Mother had never understood the long silences between us; were she here, she would certainly have attempted to engage us in conversation with one another, and, when that failed, as it must, she would fill the time with her own talk, much in the way that Doctor Phlox did. But I found no logic whatever in speaking when there was nothing I wished to say. Better to absorb myself in the cleaning of vegetables and herbs, the small preparations – Mother had indeed seen well to the matter of nourishment – and to the familiar, soothing lull of the grandmother clock, measuring time as though it was still on Terra, and not on Vulcan. Mother had said that it made her happy to know that she could still know what time it was at her mother’s home, just by looking at the clock.

I prepared the meal without speaking; Sarek did not look up from his reading. He set it aside when I brought the tray laden with leaf and root vegetables, kivasberries, kevlas toast with marmalade, and tea. Clearly, he expected me to sit and share the meal; but I felt the urgent passing of time, held in the sounds of Mother’s clock, calling me home, to Earth, a place I had never been. I breathed deeply, and came to the table again, bearing a pitcher of water and two clay drinking bowls that had been made on Earth, from earth. I placed them carefully to one side, and then I sat to eat, angled so that Father needed to turn to pin me with his regard. I sipped my tea as though I didn’t know he watched, and counted the measures of the clock.

Do you enjoy stream-of consciousness writing? Anyone can play, so long as they are willing to follow a few simple rules. See you next week, for another live-streaming look into the lovely chaos in my mind! =)

Join in or read more SoCS posts here!

SoCS: Betwixt Dangers

This post is part of Linda G.Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday meme.

Rules and this week’s prompt.

The idea is simple – post an unedited stream of consciousness piece that ties into the weekly prompt.

This week’s prompt is to write a post that uses the words two/twin/double/bi or any other words that mean “two”. I worked them all in, in some form.

I read this prompt as I was rewriting a scene for my time-travel fantasy novel, Chameleon’s Dish, which is set in Shakespearean London. My young heroine, Tisira, is in a bit of a pickle– not only is she trapped in the Globe Theatre as it’s burning to the ground; she’s also recovering her identity after a traumatic brain injury. She’s regaining herself, but, so far, she hasn’t fully reintegrated, so she is something of a split personality -and each side has its own priorities…

She has just been discovered by her twin sister and her traveling companion, and they’ve managed to escape the collapsing building – only to be accosted by an old enemy, Verity Cooper, who is determined to see Tisira burned at the stake for witchcraft.

This passage was freewritten, and will undergo many more changes on the journey of revision. So, it’s a bit of a peek behind the curtain of my creative process… I hope you enjoy! =D

 

The Globe Theatre. Creative Commons License – Internet Archive Book Images, on Flickr Commons

“Verity!” Henry hissed, and the other two – Huntleader James and Kirana my twin, stared at us. Kira’s eyes were frightened, though we could nay make out scent, still, other than the char of the Globe’s burning, and our own singed hair and flesh, and the Huntleader’s blood, a tangy overnote.

“Friend of yours?” he asked, with a note of humor.

“Nay. She has set herself as our foe.”

“Do you two think you could help me up, and hold me, if I need you to?” The Huntleader whispered, and I could sense that he had set himself a Hunt.

“It would not be wise.”

“I didn’t ask that – ” Verity’s screeching cry punctured his sentence; we listened. She was coming closer, and, as we peered through billowing smoke, we thought mayhap we could see her, and the crowd parting aside as the Red Sea in Henry’s Bible book, giving her as clear a path as Moses had. “Do you really want to debate it, or will you let me at least try to help you?”

“We must, Nockatee – Tisira – both of you!” Henry’s whisper was urgent, and it drew us closer, closer to the moment of convergence. Would I be lost in it? Would Nockatee? We were one body, but two lives, two souls, now. How could either survive, if one must subsume the other?

But surely now was not the time for such musings – first, must we not survive to worry at the bone of the riddle?

We began to heave him up – the running about within, after a morn spent in the heavens, and a twoday in which we had nay slept, dragged at our bones, but we managed, with James doing what he was able and biting back a short sharp oath as the bones ground together, his leg twisting further.

“And what of me?” Kirana asked, watching us all. Timid my twin had ever been, save when Andrew was with her.

“You – be ready to run, Kirana. As fast as you can, and in Huntform if you can manage it without being seen.”

“Run, Huntleader?”

“Run, Kirana. Someone needs to make it back – and if this doesn’t go well for your sister and her husband, your father is going to need you with him. So be ready to run- for your life, and for his.”

Kirana looked at us. “Kelaan – “

But we knew. Our minds flowed as they always had – the doubled energies merging into one- mayhap this was a key; a part of the Hunting. Mayhap it was the way to join us. Could not Nockatee and Tisira blend, as Kirana and Tisira ever had? We would be twins, of a different nature….

Verity was almost upon us. “All right, kids,” said the Huntleader. “You both clearly like the theatre. I hope you’re ready for the roles of a lifetime- because it’s time to put on a show. Follow my lead.” He leaned upon us, one arm around Henry’s shoulder, the other around my waist. A long rosary chain hung in front of my body, the crucifix brushing my breast. I wondered where it had come from. “Ah, Goodwife. I am Brother James of Dunkirk, a Monk of the Holy Binary Order. I regret any confusion. The girl is – one of our supplicants for the Double Sisterhood; our order of nuns. Some time gone, she suffered an accident in yon nearby woodlands, and lost all memory of herself and this other girl – as you can see, her twin. We have been searching for her; this boy befriended and sustained her, in Heaven’s own mercy. We will have him for the Brotherhood.”

“He danced with her in the forest; and both clad only in their skins -“

Judge not, lest thee be judged thyself,” countered Huntleader James, firmly, but with kindness. “Be well, Goodwife, and many benedictions upon thee.” He whispered, “Now, nod your farewells – and help me get somewhere away from here. Too many eyes – and two of you aren’t going to be able to explain more than a few things about yourselves if anyone decides to believe her, instead of me.”

Each step held danger; I counted two tensquare, and thriceten and two besides, before we were in the nearest of the bowers.

Do you find stream-of consciousness writing intriguing? Anyone can play, so long as they are willing to follow a few simple rules. See you next week, for another live-streaming look into the lovely chaos in my mind! =)

Join in or read more SoCS posts here!

Stretching into Revisions: ROW80 Update, August 6, 2014

The writing challenge that knows you have a life.

We’re nearly a week into August, now, and I’m finding the new rhythm of revisions. I hadn’t realized how much I’ve missed my characters from Chameleon’s Dish.

Have you ever had that experience, when you return to a WIP you haven’t spent time with for a while?

I’m also getting a better sense of the shape of my revision effort. It’s part excavation, and part reconstruction. It’s not something I intend to rush through; my goal is less about doing this fast as it is about creating a second draft that is ready for more refined editing.

So, it will take as long as it does. If I need to change my goals to accommodate this project, I will.

In other news, something big is on the horizon. I’ll maybe have more to say about it on the next week.

I’m also percolating. Ideas and scenes are forming; essays and blogposts are formulating.

How about you? Do you have a favorite project right now?

A Tisira’s-eye view….

August Focal Areas:

  • Homeschool Administration

  • Chameleon’s Dish Revision

  • Social Media/Blog Design

2014 Blogging:

Build positive blogging habits – post regularly, build queues, answer comments, and share diversely.

Maintain regular posting schedule; queue one post for each regular feature. Target attained for posting; nothing queued as yet.

Develop a sharing strategy that feels natural; incorporating input from Kristen. On target for sharing; no input from Kristen as yet.

Continue interacting through comments; expand and diversify my willingness to comment. Target attained!

Inspiration for Chameleon’s Dish.

2014 Writing:

Complete rough drafts of To Be or Not to Be, The Stars Are Fire (overstrike), and Perchance to Dream.

Write at least 750 words on Perchance to Dream daily through August, or until the draft is completed. Target attained!

  • August 3: 759 words.

  • August 4: 871 words.

  • August 5: 778 words.

2014 Editing:

Complete first revision pass for Chameleon’s Dish.

Revise all plot points by September 1. On target.

  • Plot points: 1/10.

  • Completed scenes/WIP: 9/60

A taste of Nockatee’s world.

2014 Hometending:

Continue physical and virtual hometending plans – resetting rooms, cleaning files, and inhabiting my study.

Continue the family room reset. On target.

  • I did a little tidying and organizing in the family room.

Clean out email files. On target.

  • Two brief deletion efforts; junk folder emptied.

Continue reclaiming my study. On target.

  • The bookcase I am repurposing from the garage is in the house; some cleanup.

Develop new habits that support organization and productivity.

Experiment with Daily Writing Frames from Round 1. On target.

  • The frames themselves look a bit different, but fit my current goals well.

Develop Daily Hometending Frames. On target. Some intermittent progress, here.

2014 Lifetending:

Stretch and find new ways to blend the facets of my life with intention and awareness.

Make plans to meet with at least 1 person on my get-together list; get in touch with at least 2 more to express my wish to reconnect. Target exceeded!

Seek out playful new ways to move and challenge my body.

Plan a monthly family excursion that involves physical activity. On target.

  • Several ideas in play.

One workout at the Y each week. On target.

  • Hooray for feeling better! I had a delightfully strenuous workout.

Continue exploring fitness goals – more on this throughout the round. Target attained; specific goals follow.

Treadmill: 22 minute walking mile using “Rolling Hills” program. On target.

  • I walked .5 miles in just under 10 minutes. I didn’t have the stamina for the entire mile, but am within the time frame.

Recumbent bike: 8 miles in 30 minutes, using an interval program. On target.

  • I biked 6.4 miles in 30 minutes, creating my own resistance intervals.

Weights: At the Y; minimum 3 machines for arms, legs, and torso weekly. Target exceeded!

  • 3 each for legs and torso; 4 for arms.

Nutrition goals for July:

Consume minimum five veggie/fruit salads and/or fruit smoothies each week. On target.

  • 2/5: One of each.

ROW80 Sponsor duties:

Visit my “2”s every session. Target attained!

  • I’m back on track.

Conflict!

ROW, ROW, ROW… find more ROWing here! =)

WIPpet Wednesday: Let’s be Friends

 

Welcome to WIPpet Wednesday, a weekly blog hop which encourages writers to move WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date. It is hosted by the lovely K.L. Schwengel, maven of bad boys, stock dogs, and flying monkeys!

How are you feeling, this week? I’ve had a rather unpredictable week, with some moments of beauty and grace and humor, and a bit of frustration. I’m past my bout with food poisoning, and mostly back to my life as it is. The kids and I took in A Midsummer Night’s Dream in a landscaped ampitheatre at a local college; I got a strenuous workout, and I’m planning a trip to NYC to meet a writer friend- more on that as plans firm up.

I’ve also shifted my main writing focus from drafting Perchance to Dream, to revising the rough draft of Chameleon’s Dish. This means that, in a few weeks, I’ll have enough to return to sharing the adventures of Tisira, Henry, and Nockatee. I’ve missed them, and I don’t think I’m alone.

Until then, I’m continuing with snippets from The IDIC Romance, my Story A Day May Challenge: Star Trek: Enterprise fan fiction, exploring the interspecies relationship of T’Pol and Trip. I’ll be sharing the remainder of this story, and a Twitter fiction, before we give Trip and T’Pol some much-needed privacy.

 

 

 

Disclaimer: T’Pol, Trip, and all the rest of Star Trek are property of CBS/Paramount; no copyright infringement intended. I just want to play with them, and I’m careful!

Story a Day is just that- a story every day in May. To make the challenge more interesting for myself, I used all of the prompts offered throughout the month. The stories are sequential, with various tones, POVs, and voices.

For those keeping track:

This is the fifth installment of Story #4, “Tigress T’Pol” . The prompt was to write a story of exactly 2000 words. An additional guest prompt from Heidi Durrow invited us to explore passion in this story.

WIPpet Math:

  • Today is August 6, 2014.
  • 21 sentences (8+6+2+0+1+4=21), plus the last two sentences from my previous post, for needed context.

This snippet follows immediately after last week’s WIPpet, Danger, Trip Tucker!. Trip and T’Pol are alone together in a cell on Rigel 10, trying to learn how to get along. Of course, that might be easier, without their mutual attraction…

This is an add-on scene for the pilot episode: “Broken Bow Part 1”. Ive done my best to extrapolate without violating series canon.

 

 

 

Mind if I ask where a Vulcan learned to fight like that? I thought your people were pacifists.”

Vulcans believe that even pacifists benefit from the ability to defend themselves; therefore training begins in childhood. I continued my study beyond the required level, as I find it useful not only for self-defense, but also for physical and mental discipline, and in the mastery of powerful emotions.” She looked straight at me out of those lovely caramel eyes, and I noticed flecks of green and gold in them – damn, they weren’t brown, up close, but something more like hazel – and this time, I could have sworn there was humor in the lift of her delicate slanted eyebrow. “Perhaps similar training might relieve you of the emotional impulses that lead you to behave like a – jackass.”

I laughed out loud, and I swear her eyes brightened a bit, almost like she was pleased by my reaction. Damned if she wasn’t even more intriguing now than she’d been in that club, where I’d fantasized about making love with her. Since she’d crashed our mission, I’d spent more time imagining what it would be like to strangle her. Now, though – now, it almost felt like maybe, just maybe, we could learn to be – friends? Did Vulcans even make friends?

Only one way to find out. I just hoped I wasn’t about to be a jackass again.

“Listen, T’Pol – can we talk?”

“We are talking, Commander.”

I sighed, and looked around the totally nondescript little cell we’d been shoved into. Maybe she didn’t know how condescending it sounded – she was the most literal woman I’d ever met. “No, not like this, with the Subcommanders and Commanders, talking about culture. Just Trip, and T’Pol, having that chat we both wanted to have a year or so ago, at Fusion.” I chewed on my lip as I dared to look at her again, knowing I’d put myself way out on a high limb.

“I don’t know what you mean,” T’Pol said huskily, as she turned half away. I watched her lovely profile as she swallowed hard, like she was fighting with herself, or those ‘powerful emotions’ she was supposed to master. And – were her cheek and the tip of her ear actually turning green?!

 

 

 

Will T’Pol admit that something happened between them, in that jazz club? Will Trip fall off the limb he’s out on, or keep his grip? Will they ever get out of this cell, or find the Klingon they came to Rigel to retrieve?

You guessed it – you can watch the episode, or come back next week for another WIPpet snippet!

Story A Day excerpt and commentary.

Full original version of the story.

These posts are the seeds of a project I’ll be expanding in 2015, so your input is always valuable. No need to feel shy; I’m a friendly sort, and will keep my phase pistol on stun… for the most part. ;)

 

 

 

Welcome to My Sunday Post for August 3, 2014 !

Learn more about The Sunday Post here!

Wow! It’s been two weeks since I posted here, and that was certainly not my intention! But last weekend brought me a case of food poisoning that made doing anything – even holding down water! – next to impossible. So, I was on medical leave from blogging for a day or two, so to speak…

I’m back now, though, to update what’s been going on in my little corner of the blogosphere since last we spoke

Plushtachioed daughter, post-Shakespeare!

Recently at shanjeniah:

My Sunday Monday Post for July 20 21, 2014: More life, more grief, lots of camping, swimming, outdoorsy fun; some writing stuff; Gretchen Wing on why Michael Sams makes her cryHelen Espinosa with a poem about taking sides; and Rose B. Fischer with a mission to redefine disability.

Coffee and Conversation:

WIPpet Wednesday:

SoCS (Stream of Consciousness Saturday):

ROW80 Updates:

  • In-Tents Stretch: In which we camp, and I scribble, and give my body and camera a workout!
  • A Sicky-Tricky Stretch: In which I recount the Bad Grape Plague of 2014, have a birthday, bid July farewell, and prepare for August’s writing projects.

A bit of horsing around? Well, not exactly… =)

What’s Next:

I’m continuing with my second WIP, Perchance to Dream, a Star Trek: TOS/ Enterprise fanfiction novel, and the second half of a duology, but my focus for the next two months will be on revisions for my fantasy novel, Chameleon’s Dish, set in the 1612-13 London area. Oh, and the ever-present homeschool administration – ’tis the season for masses of reporting requirements that need to be met.

Camp Away From Home…

In the Wilds of Internet-Land:

And, just because this is my little piece of Lovely Chaos, and I can…

Life Stuff:

  • So, there was food poisoning, the anniversary of our baby’s death, my birthday, and A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
  • There were lots of ideas, lots of conversation, lots of snuggling, and lots of laughter.
  • I got reacquainted with Chameleon’s Dish, finished CampNaNoWriMo, and revamped my ROW80 goals.

Want to join the Sunday Post fun?

WIPpet Wednesday: Danger, Trip Tucker!

 

Welcome to WIPpet Wednesday, a weekly blog hop which encourages writers to move WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date. It is hosted by the lovely K.L. Schwengel, maven of bad boys, stock dogs, and flying monkeys!

It was an eventful week for me. A difficult anniversary, my birthday – and a case of food poisoning that swallowed my weekend whole. I’m almost back to myself, although still tired, so that means it’s time for some WIPpeting!

I’m continuing with snippets from The IDIC Romance, my Story A Day May Challenge: Star Trek: Enterprise fan fiction, exploring the interspecies relationship of T’Pol and Trip.

 

Disclaimer: T’Pol, Trip, and all the rest of Star Trek are property of CBS/Paramount; no copyright infringement intended. I just want to play with them, and I’m careful!

Story a Day is just that- a story every day in May. To make the challenge more interesting for myself, I used all of the prompts offered throughout the month. The stories are sequential, with various tones, POVs, and voices.

For those keeping track:

This is the fourth installment of Story #4, “Tigress T’Pol” . The prompt was to write a story of exactly 2000 words. An additional guest prompt from Heidi Durrow invited us to explore passion in this story.

WIPpet Math:

  • Today is July 30, 2014.
  • 29 sentences, because yesterday was my birthday, and I figure I’m entitled.

This snippet follows immediately after last week’s WIPpet, Bigger Problems. Trip and T’Pol are on Rigel 10, searching for the wounded Klingon who was abducted from Enterprise, when they are attacked by several Suliban…This is an add-on scene for the pilot episode: “Broken Bow Part 1”. Ive done my best to extrapolate without violating series canon.

 

There were five of them circling her, now – but T’Pol spun, kicked, and feinted as though she had a chance of taking them all out. She ducked under a reaching Suliban, and when she came up, her hand clamped onto his shoulder; he dropped to the decking with a thud and stayed there. What the hell had she done to him? Before I could even start to figure it out, another one tried to launch a flying kick at her head; she threw him over her shoulder, rolled, came up already whirling to keep the last three in her sight.

“Looks like she fights better than you, too,” I laughed, enjoying my captor’s enraged hiss, as T’Pol got another Suliban by the shoulder, and he stopped being a factor. But then one of the last two caught hold of her, and the other one’s sidearm slammed into her head and sent her slumping.

“Hey!” I fought to get free – Damn, had they killed her? “Don’t hurt her!”

“Are you going to try to protect her, puny Human?”

T’Pol lifted her lolling head a little, somehow managing to look at me dazedly. “Don’t, Trip,” she mouthed – or at least I thought she did.

I stopped struggling – it might be too late for admitting that I was in way over my head, and had probably dragged her in with me to do any good, but I could at least not make it any worse for either of us. We were taken down several levels – I tried to keep track, but I was worried about T’Pol, who now hung limply between the two Suliban who dragged her. By the time I was shoved into a small room with a force field at the entrance, I was completely lost.

The two holding T’Pol dumped her roughly against the back wall of the cell, then turned and locked us in while I went to kneel beside her, hoping like hell she wasn’t seriously hurt. The Vulcan woman got her elbows under her with a soft grunt of effort and propped herself up while I was still trying to decide whether I should help her.

“Sorry I gave you a hard time. You all right?”

“I attempted to warn you; had you listened, you might have been able to escape, and alert the captain.”

“Guess I was too busy being a jackass.”

“Jackass?” She arched one slanting brow, studying my face with a question in her eyes – eyes that seemed to have grown softer, somehow, making her seem beautiful in a whole new way that almost took my breath away.

“I lost my temper, and it wasn’t fair to take it out on you.”

I apparently have much to learn about interacting effectively with humans.”

I smiled; this was the first time she’d seemed at all unsure of herself. “I could’ve done a better job of ‘interacting effectively’ myself, so I guess that makes us just about even. Mind if I ask where a Vulcan learned to fight like that? I thought your people were supposed to be pacifists.”

 

Why have the Suliban taken them captive? Will Trip and T’Pol ever learn how to ‘interact effectively’ with one another? Will T’Pol reveal how she acquired her considerable skill at hand-to-hand combat? What about the rest of the landing party, and the mission to rescue Klaang, the wounded Klingon?

You guessed it – you can watch the episode, or come back next week for another WIPpet snippet!

Story A Day unrevised excerpt and commentary…

Full original version of the story…

These posts are the seeds of a project I’ll be expanding in 2015, so your input is always valuable. No need to feel shy; I’m a friendly sort, and will keep my phase pistol on stun… for the most part. ;)

Come read or join in on the WIPpetty goodness!