rosie_rues (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rosie_rues) wrote2010-10-03 10:47 am
rosie_rues) wrote2010-10-03 10:47 am
The are the voyages of the Starship- oh, wait...
Fandom: Star Trek AOS/Merlin
Words: 848
Rating: PG
Summary: World's most ridiculous crossover, here we come. Or, one of the many, many reasons why Jim Kirk will never be a great diplomat (at least not where Arthur Pendragon is concerned).
Disclaimer: I own neither Merlin not Star Trek XI.
Notes: This is just a snippet, really. I have about ten of these clogging up my mind, all recounting disastrous encounters between the two crews, so there may be more if I can hack out some writing time.
They came out of warp into the midst of battle, and Sulu was too busy dodging debris and the flaring lines of weapons fire to realise at first why Kirk was grinning so widely. Then the Enterprise joined the fight, the bridge shaking as their weapons discharged and their shields shook with impact as the unknown ship turned on them.
“Fire photon torpedoes when ready,” Kirk said gleefully, bouncing a little in the chair. “Looks like our friends are in need of rescue. Again.”
Sulu had an inkling then, but he had other things on his mind for a few minutes. It wasn't until the hostile ship silently flashed white and then went dark, and space calmed around them, that he took a proper look at the other Federation ship.
The USS Excalibur, its port nacelles thoroughly charred, was floating ahead of them.
Oh, crap.
“Open a channel to the Excalibur, will you, Uhura,” Kirk said, his grin spreading wider and wider and wider.
“Captain,” Uhura said warningly. Sulu could see Chekov out of the corner of his eye, scrunching down in his chair as if he hoped it might conveniently swallow him.
“Jim, I remind you that Captain Pendragon has previously filed thirty-seven complaints to Starfleet Command regarding-”
“Helloooo, Arthur,” Kirk crowed gleefully.
After a moment, Excalibur returned their hail. Captain Pendragon did not look particularly pleased to see them. “Kirk,” he said, nodding a stiff greeting. There was enough smoke behind him that Sulu could guess at how much damage Excalibur had taken.
“Now that's no way to greet your knight in shining armour, Artie.” Kirk leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out comfortably. “Glad to be of assistance, though. Anything we can do to help?”
“We're fine on our own, thank you, Kirk.”
“Always so independent, isn't he, Spock?”
“I believe we should generally trust in Captain Pendragon's experience and judgement, captain. Perhaps in this case, however, he would benefit from the loan of some engineering expertise.”
“I'll consult my own engineering department,” Pendragon said stiffly. His hands were clearly digging into the arms of his chair. “We'll let you know if we need help.”
Kirk gave a exaggerated sigh. “Now, now, Artie, we're all part of the Federation together, you know. Mutual assistance, democracy, all that. No need to stand apart.” He leaned forward, radiating earnest sincerity so excessively that Chekov almost slid right out of his chair. Uhura rolled her eyes towards the ceiling, Spock did that strangely Spockish thing where he communicated pained disapproval without any change in facial expression or body language, and Sulu tried desperately not to meet the eyes of anyone on Excalibur's bridge.
“After all,” Kirk proclaimed, “you can't expect to wield supreme executive power just because some watery tart threw a sword at you.”
“Lieutenant LeFay, I believe our conversation with Captain Kirk is over,” Pendragon said, his voice so controlled it sounded like he was gnawing every syllable.
“I'm so terribly sorry, Captain,” the voice of Excalibur's communications officer purred from somewhere off-screen, reminding Sulu that there was in fact somebody in the universe who thought this was even more hilarious than Kirk did. “We must have taken some damage to our comm's array. The channel appears to be mysteriously jammed open. You'll just have to keep talking.”
“Well, whatever shall we talk about?” Kirk asked brightly. “Hey, what is the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow?”
“Go to hell, Kirk,” Pendragon snarled.
“Arthur, Arthur, Arthur, you wound me. Is it because I've seen your sister naked, because believe me, she has nothing to be ashamed of - She's beautiful, she's rich, she's got huge... tracts of land.”
That's when Sulu spotted the message scrolling across his console. Thanks for the assist, but I thought we'd agreed that he was going to stop with the quotations.
Surreptiously, he sent back a message back to Pendragon's First Officer, Sorry. At least he's moved on from Tennyson.
I liked some of the Tennyson, Gwen replied. It was pretty. We could do with more than engineering help. We had to evacuate Sickbay and a lot of our medics are on the casualty list. We lost one of the kitchens too. While they're playing, could you ask Commander Spock to work out what you can spare.
You could ask him yourself, he suggested, forwarding her message to Spock. He'd grown up two streets away from Guinevere Carmel, been tutored by her in calculus when they were both only dreaming of Starfleet, snuck out of neigbourhood parties to gaze at the stars in her quiet company. She had the unusual quality, in Starfleet terms, of being remarkably sane.
Oh, I couldn't. He doesn't like me.
He chuckled and then made the mistake of looking up in time to hear Kirk say, “Got your damage reports yet? Go on, tell me it's but a scratch. You know you want too. Come on, you've had worse.”
Silently, Sulu rolled his eyes and hoped that Excalibur's repairs wouldn't take too long. Arthur Pendragon had been a pretty good fencer in his academy days and prone to duelling challenges, and if this carried on, Sulu was going to end up being Kirk's second.
Again.
Words: 848
Rating: PG
Summary: World's most ridiculous crossover, here we come. Or, one of the many, many reasons why Jim Kirk will never be a great diplomat (at least not where Arthur Pendragon is concerned).
Disclaimer: I own neither Merlin not Star Trek XI.
Notes: This is just a snippet, really. I have about ten of these clogging up my mind, all recounting disastrous encounters between the two crews, so there may be more if I can hack out some writing time.
They came out of warp into the midst of battle, and Sulu was too busy dodging debris and the flaring lines of weapons fire to realise at first why Kirk was grinning so widely. Then the Enterprise joined the fight, the bridge shaking as their weapons discharged and their shields shook with impact as the unknown ship turned on them.
“Fire photon torpedoes when ready,” Kirk said gleefully, bouncing a little in the chair. “Looks like our friends are in need of rescue. Again.”
Sulu had an inkling then, but he had other things on his mind for a few minutes. It wasn't until the hostile ship silently flashed white and then went dark, and space calmed around them, that he took a proper look at the other Federation ship.
The USS Excalibur, its port nacelles thoroughly charred, was floating ahead of them.
Oh, crap.
“Open a channel to the Excalibur, will you, Uhura,” Kirk said, his grin spreading wider and wider and wider.
“Captain,” Uhura said warningly. Sulu could see Chekov out of the corner of his eye, scrunching down in his chair as if he hoped it might conveniently swallow him.
“Jim, I remind you that Captain Pendragon has previously filed thirty-seven complaints to Starfleet Command regarding-”
“Helloooo, Arthur,” Kirk crowed gleefully.
After a moment, Excalibur returned their hail. Captain Pendragon did not look particularly pleased to see them. “Kirk,” he said, nodding a stiff greeting. There was enough smoke behind him that Sulu could guess at how much damage Excalibur had taken.
“Now that's no way to greet your knight in shining armour, Artie.” Kirk leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out comfortably. “Glad to be of assistance, though. Anything we can do to help?”
“We're fine on our own, thank you, Kirk.”
“Always so independent, isn't he, Spock?”
“I believe we should generally trust in Captain Pendragon's experience and judgement, captain. Perhaps in this case, however, he would benefit from the loan of some engineering expertise.”
“I'll consult my own engineering department,” Pendragon said stiffly. His hands were clearly digging into the arms of his chair. “We'll let you know if we need help.”
Kirk gave a exaggerated sigh. “Now, now, Artie, we're all part of the Federation together, you know. Mutual assistance, democracy, all that. No need to stand apart.” He leaned forward, radiating earnest sincerity so excessively that Chekov almost slid right out of his chair. Uhura rolled her eyes towards the ceiling, Spock did that strangely Spockish thing where he communicated pained disapproval without any change in facial expression or body language, and Sulu tried desperately not to meet the eyes of anyone on Excalibur's bridge.
“After all,” Kirk proclaimed, “you can't expect to wield supreme executive power just because some watery tart threw a sword at you.”
“Lieutenant LeFay, I believe our conversation with Captain Kirk is over,” Pendragon said, his voice so controlled it sounded like he was gnawing every syllable.
“I'm so terribly sorry, Captain,” the voice of Excalibur's communications officer purred from somewhere off-screen, reminding Sulu that there was in fact somebody in the universe who thought this was even more hilarious than Kirk did. “We must have taken some damage to our comm's array. The channel appears to be mysteriously jammed open. You'll just have to keep talking.”
“Well, whatever shall we talk about?” Kirk asked brightly. “Hey, what is the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow?”
“Go to hell, Kirk,” Pendragon snarled.
“Arthur, Arthur, Arthur, you wound me. Is it because I've seen your sister naked, because believe me, she has nothing to be ashamed of - She's beautiful, she's rich, she's got huge... tracts of land.”
That's when Sulu spotted the message scrolling across his console. Thanks for the assist, but I thought we'd agreed that he was going to stop with the quotations.
Surreptiously, he sent back a message back to Pendragon's First Officer, Sorry. At least he's moved on from Tennyson.
I liked some of the Tennyson, Gwen replied. It was pretty. We could do with more than engineering help. We had to evacuate Sickbay and a lot of our medics are on the casualty list. We lost one of the kitchens too. While they're playing, could you ask Commander Spock to work out what you can spare.
You could ask him yourself, he suggested, forwarding her message to Spock. He'd grown up two streets away from Guinevere Carmel, been tutored by her in calculus when they were both only dreaming of Starfleet, snuck out of neigbourhood parties to gaze at the stars in her quiet company. She had the unusual quality, in Starfleet terms, of being remarkably sane.
Oh, I couldn't. He doesn't like me.
He chuckled and then made the mistake of looking up in time to hear Kirk say, “Got your damage reports yet? Go on, tell me it's but a scratch. You know you want too. Come on, you've had worse.”
Silently, Sulu rolled his eyes and hoped that Excalibur's repairs wouldn't take too long. Arthur Pendragon had been a pretty good fencer in his academy days and prone to duelling challenges, and if this carried on, Sulu was going to end up being Kirk's second.
Again.