Day 12 @kaciam - Star Trek

This Star Trek story is based on the 2009 movie (I think they call it the Kelvin timeline) so yeah. And introducing my OC, Ashlynn Rae, a first-year Starfleet student given a position on the Enterprise. If you want more of her, I may be publishing more of her story in a new Star Trek fic on my profile, so let me know!

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"What is going on here?"

A scowl of disgust seemed permanently etched into the man's face. He swiped at a glittery swathe of fabric crossing the doorway, picking red strands out of his hair. "What is this stuff? Who's responsible for this— this, ah..."

Everyone on the bridge looked up. The room was busier than usual, but the energetic chatter died almost immediately.

The tall officer nearest the door of the turbolift sighed, reaching for the garland that had landed on the floor. "Really? I just put that up."

"...This, uh, mess." The man's frown deepened. He brushed glitter off his blue uniform. "Well? Where's the Captain?"

"Dr. McCoy." The Vulcan's level voice came from the front of the room. Spock turned in his seat at the helm. "I have the conn. Is something wrong?"

McCoy raised an eyebrow, taking in the room with a slow sweep of his gaze.

Nobody was at their stations. The room was bathed in red and green lights, sparkling tinsel strewn over scientific instruments. A box perched precariously on the armrest of the captain's chair tipped, dozens of coloured balls clattering loudly onto the floor. Two redshirts in the back giggled nervously.

"The red lights do not actually indicate an emergency," Spock assured the doctor. "They are meant to... enhance the festive atmosphere."

"It was Rae's idea," blurted a yellow-clad lieutenant.

The room's attention shifted to a petite figure sitting next to the captain's chair. She glanced up, sweeping reddish curls away from her horn-rimmed glasses.

"Dr. McCoy?" Her voice was soft.

"Uh huh." The doctor pushed a hand through his hair. "Rae, do you have authorization for..." Again he seemed to be searching for a description.

"It's Christmas, man," the tall officer next to him supplied.

"Yeah," put in someone else. "Partying and food and peace to all men and that. It's brilliant."

McCoy sighed through his nose. "Crewman Rae?"

"I asked the Captain," she said quickly. "He said we could... decorate. We're in deep space for the next week or so anyway, I thought it would liven the place up?"

"Yeah, and where'd you get all this stuff?"

She ducked her head, smiling. "Some of the boys picked it up at the port we left this morning. Well, the garlands and things anyway. The rest is a bit more complicated. Um, Sulu?"

Her gaze shifted to the helmsman, hunched over a side station and shooting furtive looks at the doctor.

Lieutenant Sulu rubbed the back of his neck as he straightened. "Holographic projections. That's me. We've even got mulberries over the Captain's chair."

"Mistletoe," corrected Rae.

"Officer," corrected Sulu.

A few bursts of muffled laughter were heard around the room. Rae went pink.

McCoy frowned. "Sorry?"

"You called her crewman. It's officer now," the helmsman said sheepishly. "Rae got promoted again."

"Did she ever." A dark-haired guy was sitting on the floor, collecting coloured ornaments. He smirked at a science officer beside Spock. "What was it this time, resilience in the face of danger?"

"That's what Kirk said." The blueshirt grinned back.

The first guy leaned back toward McCoy. "She sassed a Kaimog to his face on that diplomatic errand yesterday. It was awesome."

"And he's like eight feet tall, right, with the ceremonial armour must've weighed 300 kg—"

"—Maybe 400, man, it was gold or something—"

"Yeah, fine." McCoy pinched the bridge of his nose. "Officer Rae, you have clearance, I don't care. I was looking for—"

"Captain on ze bridge!" an accented voice interjected. The doctor's head snapped up.

"Relax, Chekov," Captain Kirk said, stepping through the doors at the other end of the bridge. The yellow-clad Russian sat back down, nodding to the captain as he crossed the room.

"Oh, there you are, Bones. I have a good reason for making you come up here. Promise." Kirk gestured to the ceiling. "Like the decorations?"

McCoy snorted.

"Don't be such a stick in the mud, you're not that old. Here's the file you were looking for last week. And Spock, I've got the conn, but don't go anywhere." The captain tossed McCoy a square micro-drive, which the doctor caught easily.

With one last look of disgust at the decorations, the blue-shirted medical officer stepped back into the turbolift, the doors closing behind him.

The rest of the room slowly resumed their activities. Kirk wandered over to his chair, perching casually on the armrest.

"Rae, you're a genius," he told the girl beside him. "I'd promote you for this, but then you might get too comfortable. That's the First Officer's chair you're in, by the way."

"You just told Lieutenant Chekov to relax," she pointed out mischievously, not moving from the seat.

"Chekov isn't comfortable enough, and he's been here longer. Even Sulu is—" He paused. "Where's Sulu? Why's my first officer at the helm?"

"Here. Sorry." Sulu waved.

"Right." Kirk turned back to Rae. "See, Sulu's got two years of experience on you. He knows when to play with the lights—" he waved a hand at the ceiling "—and when to shut up. There's a balance, you know."

"Captain?"

"Relax, Chekov," Kirk said without looking over. "See, Rae, it's easy."

The curly-haired navigator sighed. "Captain, zere is a message from engineering. I cannot decipher it, sir."

Rae leaned toward his screen. "Those are... emoticons? Hey, I learned about that in school. It was a popular form of communication, like, a thousand years ago."

"What, those tiny pictures?" Kirk squinted, trying to see between Rae and Chekov's heads. "That one looks like a mug of—"

"Captain Kirk, sir!"

The turbolift doors were open, and a man in a red shirt leaned out, lifting a glass of foamy amber liquid in a toast. "You may wanna come down for this, sir," he informed them in a casual Scottish brogue.

"Mr. Scott, are you the author of this indecipherable code?" grinned Kirk, spinning in his chair to face the chief engineer.

"Aye, sir, and I thought it was clear enough. Cat's outta the bag, the whole engineering crew knows it's Christmas, now." Scotty leaned forward conspiratorially. "Drinks downstairs, if you can spare a minute from your big important officer duties."

"You know..." Kirk glanced around the bridge. Most people were watching the exchange by now, waiting for a verdict. The captain grinned again. "I think we can do that."

Raising his voice slightly, he announced, "Since none of you are working anyway, we may as well do it somewhere else. Dismissed. And Spock, you're coming too."

The Vulcan looked up in surprise. "Captain, since we are at warp speed, someone is required to monitor the subspace field geometry—"

"In parallel with the engineering department, blah blah blah. Does it look like engineering is on the job?" Kirk stood, clapping his first officer on the shoulder. "You need a break."

"It is all the more necessary, sir, if no one else—"

"Relax, Spock." James Kirk threw Rae a wink. She shook her head at him. "You're coming, and that's an order. Chekov's got the conn, he's underage anyway. Right?"

The lieutenant's shoulders sagged visibly. "Yes, Captain."

"There we go. Have fun!"

The room quickly emptied, leaving tinsel piled in corners and garlands hanging haphazardly from the ceiling. A string of tiny lights was slowly detaching itself from the wall above a science station. Chekov sighed and turned back to his inactive screen.

The turbolift doors slid shut, and in the sudden silence a faint shhhck came from behind him. Startled, he glanced back.

Rae lifted an eyebrow. "What?"

"Oh - nothing, nothing." Chekov tucked his feet awkwardly under his chair. "You are... still here?"

She dropped her gaze to the paper in her lap. "Mm... yeah. You know, there have to be at least two people on the bridge at all times."

"Right." He looked away.

"And I don't drink."

Chekov nodded in agreement, opening his mouth and finding nothing else to say. He glanced back at the screen, but nothing of interest showed, so he focused instead on the paper Rae was cutting. She had it folded in a sort of triangle, and was taking corners off with a short knife.

"It's a snowflake," she said without looking up.

"Oh - is it?"

Rae let out a short laugh. "You'll see when I'm done."

Chekov nodded again. "Okay."

Her eyes flickered up, a smile lighting her face. And suddenly the ice was broken, and they were both laughing. Rae grinned, pointing her knife at Chekov. "Did you see Bones' face when he walked in?"

"I was looking ze other way," he confessed. "But when ze Commander asked what was wrong—" Chekov's eyes bugged out in an imitation of the doctor's expression. "Zat was good."

She giggled. "Not really a Christmas person, I guess?"

"Hah." Chekov shook his head. "He's crazy. Zis - it is amazing."

He pushed up the sleeves of his yellow shirt, gesturing vaguely to the entire room. "How did you get everyone to do all zis?"

Rae's eyes were far away. "They loved the idea. Everyone kind of knows about Christmas, the ones from Earth anyway. Back home, my family celebrated it every year. It's one of my favourite memories."

"What is it about?"

"Well..." She glanced down, remembering the half-finished snowflake, and resumed cutting. "You know my family wasn't well off. They say without currency everyone is equal, but that's not how it always is in practice. Christmas was more than just a holiday for us - it was like a miracle every year that we were still alive and kicking. It was about thankfulness for another year of good health and family, something we shared even in dark times. For us, it was about hope."

"I do not remember much about ze traditions," Chekov said reflectively. "Do you know stories?"

"Scotty does." Rae put down the knife and started unfolding the paper. "You should ask him. He's got so many stories, I could listen to him all day long. What do you think?"

She was holding up a six-pointed star, delicate curves and jagged edges sliced out of the white paper. Chekov raised his eyebrows in appreciation.

"It looks like a snowflake now," he observed.

"I missed a corner," Rae sighed. "See - here's a spot that's only half cut."

As she reached for the knife again, she knocked it off the armrest. It hit the white floor, skittering toward Chekov. They both dove for it at the same time, their heads colliding with a solid crack.

Rae let out a yelp, and Chekov surfaced with the knife. When he saw that she was laughing, he relaxed, touching his own forehead with a rueful grin.

"Sorry, sorry," he said. "You okay?"

She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "I'm good." A leftover giggle escaped her mouth.

Chekov was holding the knife limply, watching her face as it slowly settled into a smile. She reached out to take it from him, and as their fingers brushed, he blurted "I would like to kiss you."

Rae dropped the knife again, but this time neither of them went to pick it up.

"Oh," she started, then went bright red.

Chekov ducked his head, suddenly embarrassed. "Sorry," he said again. "I - I shouldn't have..."

"No, it's..." Rae stumbled over her words, pressing a hand to her mouth. "It's okay."

He lifted his gaze to her face, hesitating. "Ashlynn?"

Rae froze at the sound of her first name. Her eyes slowly wandered up to meet his.

The turbolift doors were almost noiseless, but they both looked up, startled. Bones stomped out, rubbing a frustrated hand across his chin.

"I'd like to get my hands on Jim Kirk," he started, then looked around at the near-empty bridge. Letting out a sigh, he put both hands on his hips and frowned at the two young people. "Where is everybody?"

Rae pulled her legs up into the chair, resting her chin on her knees and not meeting his eyes.

Chekov sat up, wearing a scowl to rival McCoy's. "Engineering," he said tersely. "Zere are drinks."

"Drinks!" The doctor's eyebrows shot up. "And no one told me. Typical."

"So you like Christmas, after all?" The Russian navigator tilted his head, questioning.

"Some parts," McCoy said grudgingly. He jerked a thumb at the air above his head, suddenly scowling again. "Not this part. You see this?"

"Yes, sir."

"Antlers! They gave me holographic antlers. Oh, when I get my hands on Kirk..."

"He is downstairs, also," offered Chekov.

"Fantastic," growled the doctor, turning on his heel and hitting a button inside the turbolift. In seconds, the doors hissed closed and the bridge was silent again.

"Sorry," Chekov said after a pause.

Rae didn't look up.

He let out an annoyed huff and stood, running a hand through his hair. "Never mind."

"Wait." Rae was suddenly on her feet, grabbing his hand. She pressed her lips together, then looked up at Chekov, eyes wide. "I - I want you to kiss me."

He hesitated, and her gaze flickered. Then a grin broke across his face.

"Officer." Chekov moved his free hand to her face. "You sure?"

Rae bit her lip to contain her smile. "Absolutely, Lieutenant."

The turbolift slid open again.

Chekov dropped his hand, turning to send a glare in the direction of the lift. Rae looked at the floor, holding in a burst of laughter.

Sulu ducked into the room, eyes wild. "Hide me," he begged. "I put antlers on Dr. McCoy!"

The short Russian marched over to him, jabbing a finger into his chest. "I will get you for zis," he promised. Then he turned back to the helm. "Come on. You were behind ze Christmas tree zis whole time, okay?"

Sulu glanced between them. "Right. Thanks."

Rae shared a quick smile with Chekov as he passed. Later, she mouthed, and bent to pick up her snowflake.

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