selene-chekov

“They’re charging weapons!” “Take cover!” Selek ducked to the desert ground, covering his hands over his helmet, plasma bombs detonating around him. Mortar shells falling mere inches from the teen Vulcan. He glanced up fearfully, face covered in rustic dust and sweat, searching for his platoon. His unit had left Head Control several days before the frontal attack from the Northern Colonies, they weren’t expecting to in fire-line within a week. He had been enlisted into the Militia Squad less than a month ago. Orientation had been a short demonstration on shooting a rifle and he was handed his uniform. Jo

Marcus opened his eyes painfully; the area was dark, the only sound was his jagged heartbeat that pounded in his head. A squeal of rusty hinges pierced through the air, irritating his dulled senses. A shadow appeared in the light that poured on the stained floor. “Pearson.” The man stayed silent, merely stepped closer to the bleeding body. Marcus stirred when he approached, tempted to reach out and snatch his leg viciously. He knew that the angered man would too, keeping his distance, the shadow slunk to his height. “Marcus, what have I told you? You to address me, Father,” He hissed with a Southern twang in the sha

The Borg, as we know, is a race of assimilating beings that are a menace to the Federation, and  basically life as we know it. There have been many debates about how to destroy a drone, but no one seems to agree on an answer. In The Next Generation, it is established that the Borg can adapt quickly to anything that attempts to attack it. Once you shoot them with one type of phaser, you need to change the frequency band to kill another. It’s that fast. But, what they don’t realize is that later on Voyager, the Borg has adapted to even that! Think about it, the Federation has known of them, and they us. Obviously we’ve tried

"Emerson!?" I looked up quickly from the rubble that was the Federations Embassy at the sound of the familiar girl's voice. Only a mere hour ago, there had been a conference held in the place that was now nothing. The Cardassian's had called for a serious peace negotiation, discussing diplomatic matter of expanding their territory, due to depleting resources from the Klingon invasion years ago. Mavus was the closest Federation vessel to respond to the desperate people. The Captain, Langofe, a handful of others and I beamed down for what we assumed a simple consultation. T'Sela sat patiently through their requests, while Langofe fidgeted and

Lieutenant Scott stepped off his bike and kicked the stand, rolling it in the trees. The blonde twenty-one year old Army brat coughed roughly in his collar. Narrowing his eyes, he glanced about him in the early morning mist. The abandoned highway remained forebodingly eerie. "And why wouldn't it be?" The Army boy pulled up his collar and slipped into the woods. Remaining silent, he tracked the ex-Marine's footsteps along with the tracks of the terrified and confused Mason with ease. Scott shook his head; they had made it too easy. After several hours of sneaking around relentlessly, the sun began to wane on the horizon. The futuristic band

Rain pattered softly outside on the cold night. I lie awake at the computer, hands frozen over the board. Music filled the room from the speakers, just as soft as the rain. The screen lay blank, waiting for me to create. Only, I did nothing, merely stared. "What are you doing?" A young voice hissed. I gritted my teeth and shook my head, forcing the voice to disappear, only to be asked again. "Go away." "Why? We're not a bother," The whimsical voice taunted. "Get the hell out of my head!" "Never silly writer; never shall we leave." Quickly I stood and turned to the room behind that was once vacant, now seated with several people. Dresse

My eyes flew open with a twinkle of excitement. Flinging the sheet off, my feet touched the cold floor, bringing them back into the warm bed. Shaking my head determinedly, I sprang on the rug and smiled as I stuck the landing. Everyone was excited for this day; our Father had decided to give us a break from our studies. Even in the middle of a work week, it was unusual but appreciated that he would be kind enough to rest our young minds. I wasn't even disappointed to get putted out of the dull set of quantum physics week. With a girlily smile, I slipped into the special material that Star fleet had provided with leisure that we would be a p

Amazing how fast a world can change, By the crash of a tongue, Narrowing of eyes, People of hurtful things. A family is one, When we love, we forget, Those things we despise, we dismiss, For those we love. How quickly hate can rise, Screaming, yelling, cursing, Gnashing of teeth, ripping of hair, How innocent am I? What did I do? The silent one, Quietly observing, The anger passing over me. From cries of hate to bellows of demands, The innocent stay silent, And we are the punished, Words fading into a whisper. Amazing how fast a world can change, Just yesterday, we were happy, Smiling and laughing, Now, we despise. I