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The Post Thread

User is offline   Inspector Lagomorf 

  • Glory To Motherland!

#17491

Personally I don't give a fuck either. It seems like Max is giving the biggest fuck here since he seems intent on maxing out his quota for all those ne'er-do-wells that have wronged him.
0

User is offline   Max Payne 

  • Skinny little Russian liberal faggot

#17492

Shut up you floppin fairy i dont care really but want to let you know will downvote you anytime you are the ones downvoting me maybe he should take away your rights you fuckers did it first

seems im running out of signature space hope no one else wants to be on it

This post has been edited by Max Payne: 19 June 2015 - 08:59 AM

-4

User is offline   Radar 

  • King of SOVL

#17493

I'm telling you this forum seems to exist for only two reasons now:

1) For those that like to troll

2) For those that like to attack trolls


And the worst part is that these two camps feed off each other.
-1

User is offline   Max Payne 

  • Skinny little Russian liberal faggot

#17494

But i am not trolling didnt do that they started that to posting weird obama things i was not trolling before that :/

it is lunick fox comrade mr tibbs they did it first if im not welcome here anymore so be it if u think i am the cause i am willing to bet there is others who had this same experience.

I dont know who is admins here and stuff dont pay attention but these guys i name are real jerks and nobody care just downvote me to hell tweam up on me i have 7 downvote on one post. you dont know lunick is a freaking troll he pissed me off on steam (not asking him for games fuck that i asked simple question bout megaton) took place in megaton group before i realized that group is full of idiots askin for protozoids to be removed and controller support bunch of jack asses and lunick fits right in. so i wanted to say here screw that guy thats not trolling untill i got ganged up on then you all say i suck so i say fuck you to

This post has been edited by Max Payne: 19 June 2015 - 11:10 AM

0

User is offline   Fox 

  • Fraka kaka kaka kaka-kow!

#17495

Stardate: Monday

Posted Image

"We are not going to get a table."

"Not necessarily, Spock! It's still early, and it's an off-week." Kirk hurried down the wooden boardwalk. "Although, if you don't hurry up..."

Spock followed a few paces behind in a more relaxed, dignified stride. "One would think that after several decades of marriage to a human I would have reconciled the inherent contradiction in those who attempt to 'rest' from their professional activities by expending more energy than those activities usually require."

"One would... think," Kirk echoed smugly. "Come on. We only have a few hours of shore leave and I've really got to show you this place. I know you'll love it. They do something with their native seaweed that makes it taste so good that even I like it."

Spock raised his eyebrow. "Miraculous."

The salty scent of alien seaspray danced before their noses as another wave crashed against the pilings holding up the boardwalk. Aliens of all shapes and colors--mostly orange-tinted humanoid natives--paraded about holding cocktails, fans, and other accouterments of a balmy evening out on the Bay. Their evening dress was as varied as their species--everything from an Andorian beauty dressed entirely in feathers to a Bolian dressed in vintage Earth leather biker gear.

As he observed this entertaining spectacle, Kirk mused that, in his Starfleet turtleneck, vest, and uniform pants and Spock in his black Vulcan robe might very well look as exotic to those present as they did to he and his companion.

A native woman in his line of sight took out a compact mirror and began to apply makeup. He noted with amusement that her chosen lipstick shade was vibrantly bluish-purple. Ah, how colorful the galaxy was...

To his dismay, however, the woman proceeded to take out a large can and gave her hair a generous dose of spray. The can expelled far more than she needed, and a thick blast of sticky air assaulted Kirk's face. "Hey, watch where you're spraying that!" he called sharply.

"I apologize," said the woman in accented Standard before scuttling away.

Kirk took his handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the sweet-smelling substance off his face. "Why do women... all... across... the galaxy... bother with that stuff?"

"The phenomenon of the 'beauty ritual'," Spock began, but Kirk cut him short. He'd just spotted the line at the restaurant at which they'd intended to dine.

"Damn."

"Indeed." Spock was attempting not to be smug, but it was a task at which he had always been dismally inept.

"Well, never say die. I bet they've got a table someplace they save for... visiting dignitaries, local celebrities..." Kirk waved his hand around in the air, waiting for Spock to finish his sentence.

"...Starship heroes?" Spock indulgingly completed his sentence.

Kirk snapped his fingers. "You read my mind!"

Spock lifted his eyebrow. //Unnecessary.//

//Am I that predictable?//

//To some degree. I find it comforting.//

They edged through the crowd at the door as politely as possible. When they reached the hostess's station, Kirk flashed her his quadrant-winning smile, and asked, "Any chance you can find room for... Captain James T. Kirk and Captain Spock of Starfleet?"

Of course they could. Spock would have rolled his eyes, but he wasn't arguing with the prospect of fresh delicious local seaweed.

The trouble in Kirk's mind started the next morning. He and Spock had returned to the ship before midnight and shared an enthusiastic cuddle before falling asleep. But when he woke up for his bridge shift, Spock had already left for his projects in the science lab. This had happened dozens of times during their life together and he found it unexplainable that it should suddenly bother him. Still, the first thing he did when he woke up was to put an arm around the pillow where Spock's head had lain and hug it tightly, so that he could smell the slight scent the Vulcan had left there.

Wondering if he was having some form of indigestion from the previous night's seaweed, he reluctantly got out of bed and dressed. By the time he reached the bridge, his mind was clouded with a veil of irrational loneliness. He poked at the bond with Spock, and Spock poked back--but in the kind of distracted way that indicated he had other things to attend to. Well, that was natural--they were both on duty. Kirk physically shook his head, trying to clear the fog.

The bridge crew was at a loss to explain Kirk's strange mood. He snapped at two ensigns barely five minutes into the shift. Ordinarily, this sort of behavior was indicative of the days just preceding a shore leave. Kirk was very susceptible to becoming cranky when he was tired. However, he'd just returned from shore leave, so everyone was expecting him to be in good spirits.

The thought flashed into Uhura's mind that maybe Kirk had forgotten to get laid, but she dismissed it before taking another breath. Not Kirk. No way.

When Spock came to the bridge a few hours later and took his place at the science console, Kirk greeted him by griping about their new mission. "Two Federation colonies in dispute over the mining rights to an asteroid that orbits between their planets," he grumbled. "Federation against Federation! This is ridiculous. Why are we arguing against ourselves?"

"There is much diversity within the Federation--even within your Earth," Spock reminded him, while wondering why that was necessary. "Both colonies were organized with the implicit assumption that profits from the asteroid would fuel their formative years. Apparently allowances were not made for two separate colonies to benefit from these profits."

"I just can't believe we're being asked to arbitrate," said Kirk, clenching and unclenching his fist.

"Starfleet values your skill in diplomacy," Spock pointed out. "In addition, the military power of a starship will discourage those extremists on each side from engaging in acts of violent sabotage against the other."

"These colonies should be helping each other, not getting into skirmishes so bad they've got to send a starship to stop it!" Kirk barked in a tone so sharp the entire bridge took notice. His voice fell to a whimper. "I have a headache."

Spock eyed him suspiciously. "Perhaps you should lie down. You do not seem well."

Kirk made a face. "I guess I'm not needed here at the moment. Spock, you have the conn."

He stomped off into the turbolift to the shocked stares of his bridge crew.

Uhura swiveled slightly in her seat to face Spock, who had taken his place on the throne of command. She commented in Vulcan--in the interest of discretion--that in her opinion, the captain sounded like a woman suffering from PMS, and that he had her sympathy.

"I am at a loss to explain it," he answered, also in Vulcan. "He was completely normal last evening."

Uhura, satisfied that Spock had not caused the misery of the entire bridge crew by withholding sex, turned back to her communications station and began polishing her keycaps with a lint cloth.

Back in his cabin, Kirk took some headache medication and attempted to lie down, but found himself uncomfortably fidgety. He realized he hadn't showered the night before after his exertions with Spock, nor in the morning, so he peeled off his uniform and headed to the head. He couldn't explain why his head had started hurting, or why, despite the refreshing 'date' the night before, he felt robbed of Spock's attention, or why he was so enraged to the point of public whining about the colonies involved in their new mission.

A shower would make him feel better. Water, hot water, running down his back... a luxury reserved for the privilege of rank.

Posted Image

He stood under the cascade, eyes closed, limbs relaxing under the liquid's caress. Tiny rivers from each hole in the showerhead ran down his body, flooding his mind with memories. Him and Spock, in the shower... the shower of the first Enterprise. The one he'd destroyed during that darkest trough in his life, when Spock was dead and David was murdered and all he had left was the clothes on his back and the friends whose lives he'd nearly ruined during his desperate crusade...

...and earlier memories, of the first time he'd taken Spock into the shower as a lover, that strange and wonderful night of exploration following Spock's aborted Koon-ut-Kali-fee. It had been a shower of symbolic as well as literal cleansing, as Spock washed both the dust of Vulcan and the sweat of lovemaking from the grateful, aching body of his dearest friend. It had been beautiful. It was still beautiful. Every moment with Spock, alone together, was like waking up from a nightmare that had been reality for so many months when he'd been gone on Gol. Or dead. God, he wanted to be with him right now....

His face was burning, and it wasn't from the hot water--and before long, it was wet, too, but not from the shower.

On the bridge, Spock could not mistake the warning flags that Kirk was unintentionally broadcasting through their bond. He frowned. Kirk was feeling emotions Spock did not even have names for, and that was quite unsettling. The undefinable required further examination, and besides, he was concerned for his bondmate.

He looked down at Chekov, who was running a check on the weapons readiness of the bridge equipment. The Russian's fingers flew over the keypad at an alarming rate--but one that pleased Spock. He liked efficiency. He waited until Chekov had completed his diagnostic and then casually informed him that he would be leaving the bridge, and that he was assigning him the conn for the time being. He did not mention the captain's name, hoping that at least a few of the bridge crew would assume he had vital science experiments to attend to.

Uhura was not one of them, and she and Chekov were too thick-as-thieves for him to be deceived. The minute Spock was off the bridge, the two of them exchanged looks. "I hope he can fix it," Uhura muttered.

"I don't know--I like sitting up here!" Chekov teased.

Spock arrived at Kirk's cabin and let himself in. "I sensed you were in some form of distress. Since we are in no need of special leadership, I assigned the conn to Mr. Chekov and came as quickly--"

He stopped when his eyes landed on Kirk, whose body was folded over on the bed, naked except for a towel, his hair leaving a wet spot on the pillow. His shoulders were shaking convulsively and his face was hidden in the bedsheets.

Spock rushed toward him in alarm. "Jim! Are you hurt?"

Kirk lifted his head. His eyes were red from crying, and he mumbled in a strangled voice, "What if David and Saavik never made love before he died? What if he never knew how beautiful this is?" He broke once more into an honest-to-god sob.

Spock stared at him, utterly mystified.

He approached Kirk cautiously, shielding himself from the little emotional tsunami in front of him. He quickly ruled out the possibility that Kirk had been replaced with an impostor for two reasons: the bond made that a completely unreasonable hypothesis, and the man before him smelled like Kirk. It was a familiar, comforting scent, too subtle for a human nose to sense, and Spock was grateful for it because it was just about the only thing making his bondmate recognizable to him at this juncture.

As soon as Spock was close enough, Kirk pounced on him. The towel fell down on the bed in a damp heap as he flung his arms around Spock's waist. Pressing his cheek against Spock's thigh, he closed his eyes and murmured, "I love you. Don't go away again."

"Jim," Spock said quietly, more to himself than to the man before him, "what has happened to you?"

Kirk looked up at him from waist-level, his eyes magnified and made glowing by a fresh set of brimming tears. "I don't know." Inside, his mind was screaming HELP! over and over. "Please don't go."

Spock took Kirk's hand and began rubbing his fingertips soothingly. "May we go together?" he inquired.

"Where?"

"Sickbay."

"I don't want the crew to see me like this."

"You can control yourself for brief period of transit."

Kirk sighed. "I don't know if I can."

"I shall attempt to distract you." Spock seized Kirk's upper arms and pulled him to his feet. His body was appealingly shining and flushed rosy from the shower, even if his face was marred by sadness. Spock hugged him gingerly, still shielding like mad, then withdrew to find him a fresh uniform. He babbled about the history of astronomy on various Federation planets while Kirk dressed, trying as hard as he could to keep Kirk's mind off of anything that might incite emotions. He took pride in how useful his Vulcan training could prove in this strange disaster.

Finally, Kirk had calmed enough to make the journey to Sickbay. Spock led him there, never straying more than a foot away the whole time.

McCoy looked up from his workbench with a frown and a furrowed brow when he saw them coming. "Jim? What happened?"

Kirk looked up at him and sighed, unable to explain.

"He seems to have been stricken with a sudden and unexplainable bout of depression," Spock explained. "He was ill-tempered on the bridge--"

"After a shore leave?" McCoy, too, was used to the usual Kirk Cycle.

"--and retired to his quarters," Spock continued, "and when I came to investigate the unfamiliar negative impulses that I sensed through our connection, I found him..." He shot Kirk a protective look. "...weeping on the bed."

McCoy's jaw dropped. "What?"

Kirk sighed. "Fix me, Bones. I have no idea what's the matter. I feel awful."

"This is awfully sudden for the usual kinds of depression," McCoy mused. "Have you ever felt like this before?"

Kirk shook his head in an erratic rhythm. "I'm terrified, Bones, about--all--kinds of irrational things."

McCoy ushered them into a private room and pulled up a chair, which Kirk fell into gladly. He scanned Kirk with his medical tricorder. "There are some strange readings coming up, but I don't know what they mean. Lemme take some samples."

Kirk endured the taking of breath, blood, and other samples with a kind of deflated submission. He rarely took his eyes off Spock, who was hovering nearby protectively.

McCoy collected his pile of samples into a tray. "Uhh, I'll go get these run. Be right back." He left the room, shutting the door behind him to give Kirk privacy.

Posted Image

Kirk looked around at the stark walls glumly. "I'm so glad you're here. But I'm sorry you had to come off the bridge for this."

"The ship needs its captain," Spock replied.

"But it's not just that, right?" Kirk looked up at him with big, lost eyes. "You do love me...?"

"Yes," said Spock, puzzled. "Why do you doubt me, after so many years?"

Kirk sighed angrily, his irritation directed at himself. "I feel like I'm stuck on some kind of damn insecurity cascade. I can't pull myself out of this... this slump, and then I wonder why you could bear to put up with me acting like this, so that makes me feel worse, and it goes on and on."

"This is not your customary behavior," Spock reminded him. "You have a slight reputation, in fact, for arrogance, which some have expressed wonderment at my ability to tolerate."

Kirk made a noise that sounded like "Meh."

"However, I am still here. Logically, that implies devotion without capriciousness."

"Am I a burden on you?"

"At the moment, you are a burden on yourself," said Spock, "but you are not a burden on me."

Kirk snuggled into his helpful embrace. Spock petted his back as if he were a kitten, trying to soothe him physically. He stayed out of his mind, though--until they figured out what was causing Kirk's mysterious condition, he thought it prudent to avoid such contact in case the malady was transmissible. To have both ranking captains on board put out of commission in this way was unthinkable.

McCoy came back with the results of the lab scan in his hand and a tired frown on his face. "Jim, there's some sort of foreign substance interfering with your brain's ability to deal with serotonin and dopamine."

A pang of anger suffused Jim's face. "Foreign substance?" he barked.

"Fascinating," Spock observed. "Although externally induced, it mimics the biochemistry of natural human clinical depression."

"What's causing it?" Jim demanded.

"You're going to love this," McCoy groused sarcastically. "It's a synthetic."

"Synthetic?" Jim hissed, narrowing his eyes. "You mean--you mean somebody did this to me?"

"You were hit, Jim, probably while you were on shore leave." McCoy handed Spock the test results to peruse. "My guess is, this is some sort of new bioweapon developed for use against humans, to render them ineffective--well, ineffective without treatment and medication, anyway."

"And someone thought it'd be a good idea to test it out on me. Wonderful."

"Is there a chance Jim was an accidental target?" Spock asked.

"Well, of course there's a chance," said McCoy, "but being as he's probably the most famous captain in Starfleet, I'd say that's statistically unlikely."

"True, Doctor," said Spock. "Does the substance's structure yield any clues to the nature of the perpetrator?"

"We're still working on that." McCoy sighed.

"So... how do I get rid of it?" Kirk asked.

"Well," said McCoy, "we can probably put you in a decontamination tank, and have the substance chemically removed from your body. You'll be in there for several hours."

"Fun."

"I will wait for you outside," Spock reassured him. "It can be done over gamma shift."

"I wanna know who's responsible!" Kirk insisted.

"I'll have to check your body for puncture wounds," said McCoy. "Sometimes a poison dart can be so small you won't even feel it get you."

Jim began removing his clothes. "We did eat some... strange food last night. Seaweed, and some native dessert that reminded me of fried peanut butter..."

"Unless they had someone working inside the restaurant, they'd have to know which plate was yours if they'd snuck into the kitchen," McCoy pointed out. "Or--maybe someone outside heard you talking about what you were gonna order."

"There was a native woman putting on makeup near us," Kirk remembered. "She might have heard me mentioning the seaweed."

"She had not yet arrived at the time you told me your preference for the seaweed on the planet," Spock corrected.

"Makeup?" McCoy's brow wrinkled. "A woman was putting on makeup?"

"Hairspray, too. Got me right in the--" Kirk stopped, his eyes wide and blinking. "Right in the face."

"Well, that's that, then," said McCoy. "Pretty clever, if you ask me."

"Does this mean I don't have to keep stripping?" Kirk asked, down to his undershirt.

"Only if it'll make you feel better," McCoy joked.

Kirk glanced at Spock, and made no move to put his white turtleneck back on. "Why did it puzzle you that one of the native women was wearing makeup? Do they not usually do that?"

"No, they don't," McCoy answered. "The men do."

"Great," Kirk exclaimed. "I'm being sabotaged by a transsexual alien."

"I think it much more likely," Spock pointed out, "that she was not truly a native woman."

"You mean--someone else, disguised to look like one of the natives?" Kirk nodded thoughtfully. "Reminds me of the Andorian--or should I say, the Orion we caught back in the sixties trying to disrupt the Babel conference."

"Or Arne Darvin," said McCoy. "The Klingon trying to act human."

"The Orions have been totally neutralized as a military threat since the sixties," said Spock, "but the Klingons..."

"The Klingons hate me," Kirk said simply, "and I think I have good reason to return the favor."

Posted Image

Spock sensed another emotional slump approaching, so he quickly continued talking. "The Klingons could very well have disguised one of their own as a native woman with the sole mission of attacking Captain Kirk. Once incapacitated by their weapon, he would not only be unable to mediate between the two colonies concerned in our present mission, but he would also be embarrassed and humiliated before Starfleet."

"They hate me personally," Kirk growled. "Makes perfect sense for those animals."

"It could, of course, be an entirely new race of enemies," Spock added, "but the Klingons would benefit greatly if both colonies were destroyed from civil war--leaving the rich asteroid belt between them once again open for non-Federation mining interests. We will have further clues once the chemical is analyzed further."

"Klingon bastards," Kirk muttered. Spock began to pet him again.

McCoy looked unsettled by the sight of Kirk's uncharacteristic moodiness, or possibly by the unprecedented semi-public display of tenderness between his two friends. "I'm, uh, I'm going to make sure everyone's on top of this out there." He quickly left the room.

Spock held out one arm and Kirk fell into the crook of his body. "I can't handle this..." he whimpered into Spock's armpit.

"You are already handling it," Spock reminded him. "Nothing has changed. You are still the captain, and I still love you."

"How can you put up with someone who's such a mess? If my fat rump isn't in the command seat I feel completely useless. Like they'll never need me again. Like they never needed me to begin with."

The thought occurred to Spock that if irrationality were a commodity one could sell on the free market, he could put a tap somewhere around Kirk's middle and collect enough to support both their retirements.

Spock shushed him with one finger to his captain's lips. "You will overcome this anomaly, with the help of the medical staff."

"Good. I can't wait to feel normal again." Kirk sighed. He played with the hair at the base of Spock's neck. "Your hair's so soft..."

Spock hugged him harder. "I like you. I shall keep you." He was exhausted from the level of shielding he was enduring at the moment, but he loved Kirk too fiercely to say that it was not worth it.

Kirk closed his eyes and rested his head on Spock's shoulder.

Sickbay bustled. Nearly everyone on duty was involved in the preparation of Kirk's decontamination chamber. It wasn't that so many people were needed, but everyone was concerned about their beloved captain and wanted to share a piece of helping him.

News of his condition had reached the bridge. "Here, Uhura wanted you to have this," McCoy said, pressing a rectangular object into Kirk's sweaty palm.

Kirk scrutinized it. "A chocolate bar?"

"She says she really feels for ya. And that these have been known to help in, uh, similar situations for women."

Kirk sniffed at it, then inhaled it in two bites.

"We're almost ready for you, Captain," called one of the nurses, peeling off her gloves and tossing them into a recycler.

"You should probably take your clothes off now," McCoy pointed out.

Kirk was still in his undershirt from earlier. Now, he lifted it above his head and handed it to Spock. "Can he come in with me?"

"No," said both Spock and McCoy at once, sharing a glance. "But I will be waiting for you outside," Spock added.

"Give me something to think about, something that'll make me keep breathing even when this thing is strangling me," Kirk asked Spock, with pleading eyes.

"That you have saved more lives than any individual I have ever met," said Spock quietly. "That you have often survived on sheer hope alone. That you have caused more happiness than pain in the world. That you belong to me and I treasure you greatly."

"Thank you." Kirk smiled, his eyes welling up with big pudgy tears.

Spock squeezed his hand. One of the tears popped out and splashed down Kirk's cheek.

McCoy prodded at Kirk gently. "It's time. C'mon."

He led Kirk into the decontamination chamber, where Kirk finished stripping down and then sat on the barely-cushioned bench to await treatment.

McCoy emerged from the chamber holding Kirk's clothes, and shut the door behind him. When he turned to face his nursing staff, he encountered a commotion. "What? What's going on?"

"Doctor, Mr. Spock collapsed," one of the nurses explained breathlessly.

"What?"

The Vulcan was folded over in a lanky heap. "He's coming around," said another nurse, clutching at him to keep him off the floor.

McCoy rushed to Spock's side. "Spock! What happened?"

Spock's eyes opened slowly, his thick eyelashes fluttering. "Forgive me, Doctor. I was temporarily unable to withstand my own weariness. I have been shielding Jim's emotions all day. It seems the effort I expended while holding him in my arms exhausted me enough to cause me to lose consciousness. I believe I will return to normal within a few minutes."

"Well, that's a relief," McCoy barked. "I don't suppose you'd stay in here long enough for me to run a few tests just to make sure."

"Not likely, Doctor. I am needed on New Miami to arbitrate in Jim's absence. We are already late by two point three hours."

McCoy sighed and rubbed his hands on his legs. "Can I convince you to at least drink a glass of electrolytes before you leave?"

"That would be acceptable."

The words were barely out of his mouth before a nurse appeared at his side with a tall glass of raspberry-flavored sports drink.

Spock gulped down the clear beverage as he hurried off to the transporter room. Commander Uhura met him there, coifed to her finest. "How's the captain?" she asked in a murmur as they took their places on the pad.

"He is currently receiving decontamination treatment," Spock told her. "He should soon return to his usual confident self."

"None too soon," remarked Uhura as they fizzled into energy.

"Unacceptable!" Colony Director Bloom roared for a sixth time. He stood up with such force that his chair teetered precariously before resting, almost with relief, back in its customary position. "I can't even imagine that Starfleet doesn't know the kind of conflict we've been having lately. I've been sending them full reports for months, and I'm sure that rat bastard Whitcup has, too. I can only conclude that they just don't think we're important enough out here to--"

"Sir, Captain Kirk will arrive momentarily," Spock insisted firmly without raising his voice. "I assure you that this delay was unexpected, personal, and temporary, and no insult was intended to either your colony or the colony managed by Director Whitcup."

"Maybe," Bloom hissed bitterly. "Or maybe this is just a delaying tactic so you and the rest of your bureaucrat friends can bait-and-switch us into accepting some Vulcan doublespeak truce that only benefits you third parties on the outside."
Posted Image

"Excuse me?" Spock inquired.

"Sir, there's no need to raise your voice," Uhura interjected, not for the first time.

"I'm not waiting here one more minute. When your mysteriously absent Captain Kirk finally decides to show his pretty face, have your girl call me. Maybe I'll have my communicator on." With that, he stormed out of the room.

Uhura glared holes into his back.

"Interesting person, Commander," Spock commented.

"If 'interesting' is Vulcan for 'irritating brute'," Uhura replied, calmly arranging her jewelry.

They both sighed.

Spock occupied his mind by looking around the reception hall where they had been unfortunate enough to have met with the obstreperous Director Bloom. It was his primary meeting room and adjoined a kitchen of considerable size. Spock was eyeing the kitchen door and wondering if the windows had been cleaned in the last few months when a small movement on the floor attracted his attention.

He stared at it.

Then he looked at Commander Uhura. She was staring at it as well.

Their eyes met. "Spock...? What... is that?" She pointed with one manicured fingernail.

"It looks like a worm," answered Spock. "Perhaps a native species, attracted by the food in the kitchen."

They were both silent for a moment, each meditating on a quite different idea.

It was Uhura who voiced it. "That's a gagh, isn't it."

"I believe you are correct."

Uhura exhaled sharply. "Well."

Spock stood without making a sound and slipped into the kitchen. Unseen, he managed to snatch the first vessel he could find--a drinking glass--and quickly slipped back into the reception hall. He gathered the gagh up into the glass and sealed the top with the palm of his hand.

"Disgusting," said Uhura through a twisted face. "The Klingons eat those things live, don't they?"

"You are correct," said Spock. "Although, the practice is not as barbaric as it might seem, as the saliva of Klingons contains an analgesic. The animal is completely numbed and possibly unconscious when it perishes."

Uhura looked away and thought of this year's Mr. Botswana.

Spock flipped open his communicator. "Spock to Enterprise."

"Enterprise here." It was Sulu.

"Mr. Sulu," Spock requested, "Is there a record of any legitimate trade with the Klingon Empire out of this colony within the past six months?"

A few seconds later, Sulu provided an answer. "No, sir. No record of any Klingons there at all, even for refueling."

"Fascinating," said Spock. He looked at Uhura.

"I knew all that bluster had to be an act," she commented. "He was overdoing it. And nobody's used 'girl' in that context for hundreds of years!"

"Mr. Bloom has apparently been dealing with Klingons right under the Federation's nose," Spock said into the communicator. "Please have Mr. Chekov beam down, and tell him to be ready for some histrionics."

Sulu's chuckle sounded tinny and distorted through the communicator. "Oh, boy. I mean, yes, sir. Sulu out."

"I take it you have a plan?" Uhura asked, fidgeting with her jewelry again.

Chekov's shimmering silhouette appeared between them, and they both quickly dodged out of the way. "Here I am, Mr. Spock, ready for action!" Chekov flashed an enormous white smile.

"Mr. Chekov, are you familiar with the technique of 'Good Cop, Bad Cop'?" Spock inquired.

"Of course!" Chekov said proudly. "It vas--"

Spock held up his hand. "I am not interested in its origins. I require your talent at theatrics for a trap."

"I vill do my best, sir. Vhat are ve trapping?"

"The director of this colony," Spock explained. "He has been secretly meeting with Klingons. The presence of this gagh near his kitchen indicates that not only were there Klingons here, but that they were treated as honored guests and special dishes were prepared to accommodate them."

"Disgusting!" Chekov sneered. The gagh seemed to sneer back at him, somehow.

"It is possible that the Klingons' covert stay on this planet and Captain Kirk's affliction are related," Spock continued, "because Director Bloom is trying to disrupt the negotiations by throwing a fit over the captain's absence."

"The Klingons vant the asteroid," Chekov realized.

"Indeed," said Spock. "We have very little proof." Spock held up the glass again. "However, he does not know what we know. We may be able to reason with him, because this will be much easier to deal with if he admits his guilt freely."

"And you think ve can do this vith good and bad cops? Vhich one am I?"

"You, Mr. Chekov, will be the bad cop."

Chekov's eyes sparkled like dilithium.

Ten minutes and one more beamdown later, Chekov stood admiring himself in the mirror on the wall. He was now wearing the insignia of an admiral--"I always vondered if I'd ever get there," he'd said dreamily when Uhura had pinned it on--brought down by someone called Ensign Ford. She'd beamed down with a PADD and a stylus to provide Chekov with an extra bit of superficial clout. She seemed to be enjoying her role, hovering at his shoulder like a bird on a rhino. Chekov always did enjoy the company of young ladies...

"Are you ready, Admiral Chekov?" Spock asked, his Vulcan face betraying no hint of duplicity in his address.

Chekov beamed instinctively, but then squashed it down quickly. "Yes, Captain Spock. I am ready," he replied in a deadly calm voice without a trace of amusement. His accent grew a bit stronger somehow as well. "Are you ready, Commander Uhura? Miss Ford?"

The two women nodded.

"Page Director Bloom," Spock instructed Ensign Ford.

She popped open her communicator and dialed his frequency. "Enterprise delegation to Director Bloom."

"Bloom here. Is that fag you call a captain down here yet?"

Uhura's hand went to her temple. Ensign Ford's jaw dropped. Chekov started to chuckle like a broken washing machine.

Spock was unaffected. He prodded Ford into a reply with his eyebrow. "Admiral Chekov demands your presence, sir."

"Demands? Who is this... Admiral Chekov fellow? What's he doing here?"

Posted Image

"I'm not at liberty to say, sir. I recommend you come quickly. He's not a patient man." She did her best to sound flustered, instead of amused.

Bloom appeared a few minutes later, striding arrogantly through the double doors at the far end of the room. "What's going on? Where's Kirk?"

Chekov stepped forward. "You are Colony Director Ahmed Arcangelo Bloom?" He spoke in crisply cropped syllables, his face a mask of Siberian wintry chill.

"That's me," Bloom replied, his bluster starting to melt away into uneasiness. His eyes passed over the Starfleet foursome, and they could see him trying to calculate how the two new people fit into the scene.

"I am Admiral Pavel Chekov, Starfleet," Chekov stated proudly. "Ven vas the last time Klingons were present on this colony?"

A cloud passed over Bloom's face. "We've never had any Klingons here," he said right away.

"We have reason to believe you provided a Klingon party with honor and hospitality," Spock said dispassionately. He was deliberately vague as to whether 'party' was plural or not. "This was not a registered trading visit."

Bloom turned to him. "What are you talking about?"

"Traitorous cossack!" Chekov hissed. "They cannot be trusted! Apparently, neither can you."

"Captain Kirk was attacked while on shore leave approximately twenty-one hours ago. The Klingons were most likely implicated in the attack, but they did not work alone. Someone in the Federation informed them where he would be during that time," said Spock, still calm.

"Ve cannot have our valuable officers incapacitated by treacherous fools like you!" Chekov advanced towards Bloom, who stepped back by instinct even though Chekov was the shorter man.

"Look, I don't know what you're talking about! There were no Klingons here. I had nothing to do with whatever happened to Kirk! Why would I want him hurt? Why would I talk to Klingons, anyway?" Bloom's breath had grown rapid.

"You vanted that asteroid," Chekov snarled. "You vanted it so badly that you'd sell out your own colony just to get it all for yourself! You and the Klingons, vorking together to create unrest."

"You knew that Captain Kirk was very likely to negotiate a permanent reconciliation between the two colonies, so you wanted him out of the way," said Spock.

"No asteroid is vorth a single sentient life!" Chekov screamed, nearly frothing at the mouth. "You betrayed him! You animal!" He lunged at Bloom, his hands formed into talons ready to sink into Bloom's neck.

Spock dashed forward briskly and held Chekov back just in time. "Admiral, please."

Ford and Uhura shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, as if they'd been present for many an Admiral Chekov tirade.

Chekov flailed within Spock's grasp. "Take your hands off me, mister--that's an order!"

"I advise you to confess," Spock told Bloom. "I will not disobey the chain of command for your sake, Mr. Bloom."

Chekov hurled a torrent of Russian insults at Bloom. "Let me GO, CAPTAIN SPOCK!"

"I didn't poison anybody!" Bloom shouted, before realizing what he'd said. "Oh, shit."

His shoulders slumped. Uhura gave him her best look of contempt.

Spock let go of Chekov just as a large glowing shape appeared nearby. "Captain!" Spock exclaimed.

A robustly smiling Jim Kirk stepped out of the transporter beam. He was holding a half-eaten chocolate bar in one hand, and his eyes were shining. "Spock! Uhura, Chekov, Ford," he greeted each of them in turn. Then he noticed Bloom. "I don't believe I've made your acquaintance."

"This is Colony Director Bloom," Spock said, drawing his phaser and aiming it carefully at the director, "the man responsible for your affliction this morning."

Kirk strode up to Bloom, close enough to invade the man's personal space. Bloom didn't say anything, but after a quick glance at Spock's phaser, he didn't move away, either.

Kirk looked deep into Bloom's eyes. "Bite me," he said quietly, before retreating.

He turned to face Spock. "What happened?"

"He joined forces with the Klingons to obtain the asteroid for himself," Spock explained. "I believe he will produce a full confession once we bring him aboard the ship. There is also the matter of certain evidence," he added, holding up the glass with the gagh inside."

Kirk wrinkled his nose. "Diet food," he quipped, turning towards the rest of his crew to avoid the sight. "Chekov!" he smirked. "When did you get promoted?"

Chekov smiled bashfully.

It didn't take long to convince Bloom, who'd realized that he had already been bested intellectually once by the Enterprise crew, that his best option was to come clean with them about the new Klingon bioweapon. "After all, your actions... have.... caused injury --and inconvenience!--to an officer in Starfleet," Kirk admonished, his confidence and officious manner making it almost hard to believe he was speaking about his own fleeting disability. "We have total authority to hold you under arrest in the brig on board the Enterprise until you can be deposited on board a space station under military law. Or, you can sit down with us and tell us everything we want to know about this... misery gas."

Bloom, still not looking anyone directly in the eye, began with a shuffle and a sigh. "They call it 'Mind-Poison.'"

By the end of the day, Kirk and Spock had returned to the ship with a vast catalogue of information about the new Klingon drug, including the very useful formula for an instant antidote that could be injected via hypospray. They turned all the information over to Dr. McCoy ("Instead of compressed air, that hairspray canister contained depressed air," he'd quipped) and returned to Kirk's quarters for the night.

"I was very pleased to see that your detoxification progressed so rapidly," Spock commented as they hung up their uniform jackets.

"So was I!" Kirk exclaimed. "My goodness, Spock, that was bewildering." He wiped his face with his hand. "I felt like I'd lost command--of my mind! Losing command of anything else terrifies me enough, as you well know, but to lose control over myself, over my own thoughts... to be unable to keep myself from worrying myself sick over the silliest, most trivial things...!" He shook his head.

"Many people suffer as you did every day of their lives," Spock observed.

"I know," Kirk said, his voice heavy with compassion. "I don't know how they do it." He lifted his white turtleneck shirt up over his head and rubbed his torso idly. "And I've known a fair share of people like that personally, people with.... mental... issues. After a day like this I wonder if this isn't some of what drove Janice Lester as mad as she got."

"John Lester, since 2271," Spock corrected. "And not every person thus afflicted bows to their fate. Many people are able to overcome their disability with a combination of chemical treatment, therapy, and sheer will. I have no doubt that if the doctor had been unable to cure you, you would have done the same."

Kirk grinned, a smile that had not lost its freshness and carbonated sparkle in the thirty years since he'd made captain. "You believe in me that much?"

"Do you doubt it?" Spock replied. "Or shall I have McCoy prepare a dose of the antidote for you as a nightcap?"

"No, I don't think so," Kirk said fluidly, closing the distance between them. "I've got a different nightcap in mind." He wrapped his arms around Spock's waist. "Come on, beautiful Vulcan. I'll show you what I was thinking about to keep myself sane in that detox chamber." He helped Spock out of the remainder of his uniform and led him over to the bed.

As Spock lay down, letting the soft sheets caress him from beneath while Kirk's comfortingly large body embraced him from above, he realized that he could finally relax. His Jim was safe once again.

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0

User is offline   Max Payne 

  • Skinny little Russian liberal faggot

#17496

trolling ^

But i am not trolling didnt do that they started that to posting weird obama things i was not trolling before that :/

it is lunick fox comrade mr tibbs they did it first if im not welcome here anymore so be it if u think i am the cause i am willing to bet there is others who had this same experience.

I dont know who is admins here and stuff dont pay attention but these guys i name are real jerks and nobody care just downvote me to hell tweam up on me i have 7 downvote on one post. you dont know lunick is a freaking troll he pissed me off on steam (not asking him for games fuck that i asked simple question bout megaton) took place in megaton group before i realized that group is full of idiots askin for protozoids to be removed and controller support bunch of jack asses and lunick fits right in. so i wanted to say here screw that guy thats not trolling untill i got ganged up on then you all say i suck so i say fuck you to

This post has been edited by Max Payne: 19 June 2015 - 11:16 AM

-1

User is offline   Zaxtor 

#17497

This man literally gave his ex half of everything they owned
http://www.cnbc.com/id/102771651

http://video.cnbc.co...ideo=3000390174

Posted Image

Posted Image

And more

This post has been edited by Zaxtor: 19 June 2015 - 11:32 AM

3

User is offline   Forge 

  • Speaker of the Outhouse

#17498

View PostMax Payne, on 19 June 2015 - 11:15 AM, said:

But i am not trolling

I told you before that regardless of whatever issues you have with certain members at other sites, and whoever started it, has no bearing on what goes on at this site. You brought your fight here and exposed the rest of us to it when we had no part in it to begin with.
You've basically involved us in it whether we wanted to be or not. Even if we take no part we still have to look at it. So now you're getting people involved because they're defending their territory and fellow forum members.

This post has been edited by Forge: 19 June 2015 - 11:40 AM

0

User is offline   Max Payne 

  • Skinny little Russian liberal faggot

#17499

no he is jerk and ppl who defend a sack of sh*t like him whatever . knowing i not accepted here just gonna stop coming here cuz i am just a duke fan of older stuff mostly comic i dont have be here.

not tryna sound like some ppl saying "fine i wont be here" but i just dont fit in and cause trouble only gained enemies here is obvious dont belong to duke34. well least those guys i mention be happy seeya i can stop now sorry fur troubles casing by me
-1

User is offline   Engel220 

#17500

Did...did duke4 just get trolled by The Iron Sheik?
-1

User is offline   Max Payne 

  • Skinny little Russian liberal faggot

#17501

since you doing writing this while i still see it i reply another time just for you engel220 FUCK YOU TO me i am having problem dont knw how explain this ubt it is that why i cant typing fucking write sometimings you fucking asshole. you want know thing... you ask someone who friend or family of me... you can fuck off to.
-4

#17502

WTH is Max Payne's problem? Is he like the incarnation of XBryan2000X, Blackhearted, Blackhatred, Mr. Deviance, or any banned user else I can think of?
-1

User is offline   Engel220 

#17503

View PostDustFalcon85, on 19 June 2015 - 12:56 PM, said:

WTH is Max Payne's problem? Is he like the incarnation of XBryan2000X, Blackhearted, Blackhatred, Mr. Deviance, or any banned user else I can think of?


Deviance was banned? In a way I'm not surprised, but he did sometimes make good points when he wasn't angrily explaining them.
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User is offline   Fox 

  • Fraka kaka kaka kaka-kow!

#17504

View PostZaxtor, on 19 June 2015 - 11:32 AM, said:

This man literally gave his ex half of everything they owned
http://www.cnbc.com/id/102771651

http://video.cnbc.co...ideo=3000390174

And more

Probably a viral. The quality of the photos is too good and it's hard to believe someone can cut through so many different materials perfectly like that. Besides he would not just have damaged all of his belongings, but a court would force him to pay for the other half.

This post has been edited by Fox: 19 June 2015 - 01:26 PM

0

User is offline   Forge 

  • Speaker of the Outhouse

#17505

View PostFox, on 19 June 2015 - 01:23 PM, said:

Probably a viral.

the car is an obvious fake.
cut in that way it wouldn't be sitting like that
it wouldn't leak anything onto the ground
the shadows under it are way too dark
0

User is offline   Radar 

  • King of SOVL

#17506

View PostDustFalcon85, on 19 June 2015 - 12:56 PM, said:

WTH is Max Payne's problem?


Well if my family was murdered causing me to go undercover into a life of crime, I'd probably have a few problems too.

This post has been edited by Nopony: 19 June 2015 - 03:57 PM

3

User is offline   ReaperMan 

#17507

View PostForge, on 19 June 2015 - 02:20 PM, said:

it wouldn't leak anything onto the ground

They would of cut through fuel and brake lines. So yes it would leak some stuff.
0

User is offline   Robman 

  • Asswhipe [sic]

#17508

I don't think Duke Nukem would be pleased seeing all this homo-erotic content on a forum dedicated to his gun-toting, (female)stripper loving escapades.

On a side note, it's nice to see this thread can descend into a shit-show without my participation.
1

User is offline   Forge 

  • Speaker of the Outhouse

#17509

View PostReaperMan, on 19 June 2015 - 02:59 PM, said:

They would of cut through fuel and brake lines. So yes it would leak some stuff.

maybe a little gas - which would evaporate, and a tiny bit of brake fluid but nothing like what's pictured

so technically, yes we'll split hairs and say maybe a quarter to half a cup of fluid would end up on on the ground and remain in a liquid state

you're right, i'm wrong; let's do the safety dance

This post has been edited by Forge: 19 June 2015 - 03:26 PM

0

User is offline   ReaperMan 

#17510

Posted Image
0

User is offline   Lunick 

#17511

Why does all the good stuff happen when I'm not awake :)
1

User is offline   Gambini 

#17512

View PostX-Vector, on 18 June 2015 - 11:09 AM, said:



Waka waka waka - oh, the nostalgia.


Some cousins had that thing when i was a little kid. We´d love to visit them to play it! heh something like 30 years ago :)
0

User is offline   X-Vector 

#17513

View PostGambini, on 20 June 2015 - 02:43 AM, said:

heh something like 30 years ago :)


Yeah, something like that.
I liked it well enough, but what made me look forward to visiting my folks' friends and relatives were the ColecoVision and Commodore 64 systems some of their kids had (mostly for Zaxxon and Impossible Mission, respectively).

View PostRobman, on 19 June 2015 - 03:14 PM, said:

I don't think Duke Nukem would be pleased seeing all this homo-erotic content


Posted Image


"Come out of the closet, Duke."
"But I'm not *in* the closet."
2

User is offline   Robman 

  • Asswhipe [sic]

#17514

That's Duke NukUM ... Nukem's flamboyant 3rd cousin.
1

User is offline   Lunick 

#17515

Posted Image
2

#17516

Posted Image
4

User is offline   brownfarted 

  • The Original Shitposter

#17517


0

User is offline   Malgon 

#17518



This guy is a lunatic! Awesome! :)
0

User is offline   Fox 

  • Fraka kaka kaka kaka-kow!

#17519

Posted Image
0

User is offline   Radar 

  • King of SOVL

#17520

Why did the 2p orbital electrons make fun of the 1s orbital electrons?

Spoiler

0

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