[fic] Return of a Champion (Prologue)
May. 22nd, 2010 07:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
akainagiReturn of a Champion (Prologue)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
akainagi (conceptual credit to chrismata1976)
Rating: PG
Genre: Star Trek: The Next Generation/Alice in Wonderland crossover
Pairings: Tarrant/T’Lara, Data/Tasha
Summary: Centuries later, the direct descendent of Alice Kingsley, now serving on the USS Enterprise, is called on to aid Underland. Unfortunately, a few other people get sucked along for the ride.
As nightmares went, this one was illogical in the extreme.
She found herself battling an enormous winged beast. Dressed in shining armor and wielding a gleaming sword it was like a caricature of those things humans love so much … what were they called? Ah, yes, fairy tales. Typical stereotypes of good versus evil designed to teach human children morals without bothering with the inconveniences of logic.
And her opponent certainly looked evil. The huge lizard like creature chased her up a spiraling set of crumbling stone steps. Steps leading to nowhere. While below her a battle raged between fantastical creatures. Rabbits and mice and humans and dogs and playing cards wielding spears and swords and hatpins went furiously at each other.
She drew her attention back to her own foe. The vile creature snapped and slashed at her with its claws, hell-bent on a taste of her blood. She parried and thrust with her sword, driving the creature back momentarily. She had never wielded a sword in her life, but the gleaming silver blade in her hand seemed to be moving almost of its own accord, guiding her hand and body in its movements. She began racing up the steps again, the creature hot on her heels. She battled against the icy grip of terror that threatened to take hold of her senses
Why was she doing this? This was her dream. She could simply throw down her sword and run away. But she couldn’t. Some part of her, some voice that didn’t even seem to be part of herself insisted that she must fight. And not just fight, but she must win. So many were counting on her. He, was counting on her. Who they and he were she didn’t know. But every fiber of her being screamed that this was her fight, her destiny.
She had little time to ruminate on it. For she was at the top. She had run out of stairs and now she was faced with the beast with nowhere to run. In a desperate move she attacked, leaping at the great creature and suddenly she found herself airborne, tossed in the air by the beast as effortlessly as a child tosses a rubber ball.
From somewhere inside her a voice that sounded nothing like her own cried out in triumph. And then there was the gruesome sound and feel of the sword slicing through the neck of the beast, beheading it in a single stroke. The body, now headless, fell with a thud. The head rolled and bounced its way down the stone steps, coming to rest at the bottom, where all fighting had ceased. All eyes were on her.
It was then that she felt it. Out of all the assembled throng, one pair of eyes bored into her with the intensity of a phaser blast. She found them easily. They practically drew her like a magnet. The eyes were green and luminous and filled with emotion. The owner of those eyes was oddly dressed, wearing a blue coat and what looked like a plaid skirt. He had a wild shock of red hair topped off by a tall hat.
But even with such strange attire what was most memorable about him were those green eyes. She felt the emotion coming off the man in waves as his gaze remained on her. There was pride. So much pride one could become drunk on it. And affection so boundless and deep it made her heart ache. The man was smiling. And from her vantage point, towering above him, she could see his lips parting and forming a single word. One she had heard before, in many dreams, in many different contexts. Now, as ever, it filled her with a sense of exhilaration and dread.
“Alice.”
Lieutenant T’Lara Kingsley awoke with a start, her heart pounding in her chest. That name. Alice. It kept coming up over and over in her dreams. As did the mad looking man with the burning green eyes, wild red hair and the tall, tattered hat. Every time he looked at her, even in dreams, it was like he was looking straight into her, seeing the whole of her existence in a single glimpse. Everything she wanted to keep hidden. It was a feeling that was unsettling in the extreme.
The computer began its shrill tone, signaling her it was time to stop thinking about her nocturnal misadventures and hurry up and shower before she was late for her shift.
~*~*~*~
Lieutenant Commander Tasha Yar sat in her bedroom armchair, having given up on sleeping long ago. She absentmindedly petted the cat which snoozed contentedly on her lap. Bizarre dreams surfaced every time she closed her eyes. The most frustrating part was, she was unable to remember them after she woke. Sure, she caught glimpses here and there, but they were disjointed snippets: a tall man in a hat, a beautiful woman in white with a crown atop her head, a huge white palace surrounded by green. It was like something out of a holo-novel.
Her eyes were drawn to their bed, where her lover, the lucky so-and-so was still sleeping. He mumbled something in his sleep, but didn’t waken. Apparently his dream program included talking in his sleep. He had been doing that a lot lately, much to Tasha’s annoyance. At least he did it quietly. Sometimes she caught the words, but more often than not, when she did it was nonsense.
She had mentioned her nocturnal problems to Data. He had listened attentively as usual, but in the end his only suggestion had been that she visit Dr. Crusher if she was having trouble sleeping. Dr. Crusher couldn’t cure her weird dreams, she had told him. Then he suggested she visit Counselor Troi, an idea that Tasha wasn’t quite keen on. Data urged her to see someone, concerned that a sleep deprived Chief of Security was a liability to herself. He was always concerned for her. But unlike lovers before him he knew the fine like to tread between concern for her and accepting the responsibilities and hazards of her chosen profession. A profession she did well and was proud of. That was one of the many ways he was unlike the lovers that came before him
It had started out as a casual, secretive (at her insistence), purely physical relationship. An experiment in human-android relations she had jokingly called it once. Two years later, the much less casual, no longer secretive relationship was still going strong. So much so that they were fairly cohabitating.
She scratched Spot behind the ears and the cat purred contentedly. She sighed. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep that put her in such a reflective mood. When exactly had the armchair in his bedroom, her favorite one to sit on, become “hers?” When had his bed become “theirs?” When had she, such a private person allowed herself to become so emotionally enmeshed with the man sleeping in the bed a few feet away? She had never had a lover before him she couldn’t live without.
But could she live without him now?
Her reverie was interrupted by the tinny sound of the computer’s alarm, telling them both that it was nearly time to go on shift. The light’s came on automatically.
Data’s eyes opened and he sat bolt upright in bed. Tasha would never get used to the way he woke up, no matter how long they were together. It was so unlike the lazy way that most people awoke.
He looked over at her, still sitting in her chair, spot still curled up in her lap, not disturbed in the least by the alarm. “You are still not sleeping?”
She shook her head. “I slept most of the night. I just woke up too early.”
“You are still having the dreams?”
“Mmm.” She made a noise of assent.
“You should see Counselor Troi,” he repeated.
Tasha got up before she started getting a lecture. The cat leapt to the floor and sauntered off, none too pleased that its comfy seat had been taken away. “I will, I will. I just haven’t gotten around to it.” She made her way to the bathroom. “I get first shower.” She called back over her shoulder, “That is unless you’d like to join me?”
Tasha was pleased to find he went for option number two.
Author:
akainagi (conceptual credit to chrismata1976)Rating: PG
Genre: Star Trek: The Next Generation/Alice in Wonderland crossover
Pairings: Tarrant/T’Lara, Data/Tasha
Summary: Centuries later, the direct descendent of Alice Kingsley, now serving on the USS Enterprise, is called on to aid Underland. Unfortunately, a few other people get sucked along for the ride.
As nightmares went, this one was illogical in the extreme.
She found herself battling an enormous winged beast. Dressed in shining armor and wielding a gleaming sword it was like a caricature of those things humans love so much … what were they called? Ah, yes, fairy tales. Typical stereotypes of good versus evil designed to teach human children morals without bothering with the inconveniences of logic.
And her opponent certainly looked evil. The huge lizard like creature chased her up a spiraling set of crumbling stone steps. Steps leading to nowhere. While below her a battle raged between fantastical creatures. Rabbits and mice and humans and dogs and playing cards wielding spears and swords and hatpins went furiously at each other.
She drew her attention back to her own foe. The vile creature snapped and slashed at her with its claws, hell-bent on a taste of her blood. She parried and thrust with her sword, driving the creature back momentarily. She had never wielded a sword in her life, but the gleaming silver blade in her hand seemed to be moving almost of its own accord, guiding her hand and body in its movements. She began racing up the steps again, the creature hot on her heels. She battled against the icy grip of terror that threatened to take hold of her senses
Why was she doing this? This was her dream. She could simply throw down her sword and run away. But she couldn’t. Some part of her, some voice that didn’t even seem to be part of herself insisted that she must fight. And not just fight, but she must win. So many were counting on her. He, was counting on her. Who they and he were she didn’t know. But every fiber of her being screamed that this was her fight, her destiny.
She had little time to ruminate on it. For she was at the top. She had run out of stairs and now she was faced with the beast with nowhere to run. In a desperate move she attacked, leaping at the great creature and suddenly she found herself airborne, tossed in the air by the beast as effortlessly as a child tosses a rubber ball.
From somewhere inside her a voice that sounded nothing like her own cried out in triumph. And then there was the gruesome sound and feel of the sword slicing through the neck of the beast, beheading it in a single stroke. The body, now headless, fell with a thud. The head rolled and bounced its way down the stone steps, coming to rest at the bottom, where all fighting had ceased. All eyes were on her.
It was then that she felt it. Out of all the assembled throng, one pair of eyes bored into her with the intensity of a phaser blast. She found them easily. They practically drew her like a magnet. The eyes were green and luminous and filled with emotion. The owner of those eyes was oddly dressed, wearing a blue coat and what looked like a plaid skirt. He had a wild shock of red hair topped off by a tall hat.
But even with such strange attire what was most memorable about him were those green eyes. She felt the emotion coming off the man in waves as his gaze remained on her. There was pride. So much pride one could become drunk on it. And affection so boundless and deep it made her heart ache. The man was smiling. And from her vantage point, towering above him, she could see his lips parting and forming a single word. One she had heard before, in many dreams, in many different contexts. Now, as ever, it filled her with a sense of exhilaration and dread.
“Alice.”
Lieutenant T’Lara Kingsley awoke with a start, her heart pounding in her chest. That name. Alice. It kept coming up over and over in her dreams. As did the mad looking man with the burning green eyes, wild red hair and the tall, tattered hat. Every time he looked at her, even in dreams, it was like he was looking straight into her, seeing the whole of her existence in a single glimpse. Everything she wanted to keep hidden. It was a feeling that was unsettling in the extreme.
The computer began its shrill tone, signaling her it was time to stop thinking about her nocturnal misadventures and hurry up and shower before she was late for her shift.
~*~*~*~
Lieutenant Commander Tasha Yar sat in her bedroom armchair, having given up on sleeping long ago. She absentmindedly petted the cat which snoozed contentedly on her lap. Bizarre dreams surfaced every time she closed her eyes. The most frustrating part was, she was unable to remember them after she woke. Sure, she caught glimpses here and there, but they were disjointed snippets: a tall man in a hat, a beautiful woman in white with a crown atop her head, a huge white palace surrounded by green. It was like something out of a holo-novel.
Her eyes were drawn to their bed, where her lover, the lucky so-and-so was still sleeping. He mumbled something in his sleep, but didn’t waken. Apparently his dream program included talking in his sleep. He had been doing that a lot lately, much to Tasha’s annoyance. At least he did it quietly. Sometimes she caught the words, but more often than not, when she did it was nonsense.
She had mentioned her nocturnal problems to Data. He had listened attentively as usual, but in the end his only suggestion had been that she visit Dr. Crusher if she was having trouble sleeping. Dr. Crusher couldn’t cure her weird dreams, she had told him. Then he suggested she visit Counselor Troi, an idea that Tasha wasn’t quite keen on. Data urged her to see someone, concerned that a sleep deprived Chief of Security was a liability to herself. He was always concerned for her. But unlike lovers before him he knew the fine like to tread between concern for her and accepting the responsibilities and hazards of her chosen profession. A profession she did well and was proud of. That was one of the many ways he was unlike the lovers that came before him
It had started out as a casual, secretive (at her insistence), purely physical relationship. An experiment in human-android relations she had jokingly called it once. Two years later, the much less casual, no longer secretive relationship was still going strong. So much so that they were fairly cohabitating.
She scratched Spot behind the ears and the cat purred contentedly. She sighed. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep that put her in such a reflective mood. When exactly had the armchair in his bedroom, her favorite one to sit on, become “hers?” When had his bed become “theirs?” When had she, such a private person allowed herself to become so emotionally enmeshed with the man sleeping in the bed a few feet away? She had never had a lover before him she couldn’t live without.
But could she live without him now?
Her reverie was interrupted by the tinny sound of the computer’s alarm, telling them both that it was nearly time to go on shift. The light’s came on automatically.
Data’s eyes opened and he sat bolt upright in bed. Tasha would never get used to the way he woke up, no matter how long they were together. It was so unlike the lazy way that most people awoke.
He looked over at her, still sitting in her chair, spot still curled up in her lap, not disturbed in the least by the alarm. “You are still not sleeping?”
She shook her head. “I slept most of the night. I just woke up too early.”
“You are still having the dreams?”
“Mmm.” She made a noise of assent.
“You should see Counselor Troi,” he repeated.
Tasha got up before she started getting a lecture. The cat leapt to the floor and sauntered off, none too pleased that its comfy seat had been taken away. “I will, I will. I just haven’t gotten around to it.” She made her way to the bathroom. “I get first shower.” She called back over her shoulder, “That is unless you’d like to join me?”
Tasha was pleased to find he went for option number two.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2010-05-22 11:36 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-05-22 11:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-05-22 11:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-05-23 03:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-05-23 03:57 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-05-23 04:10 am (UTC):)
(no subject)
Date: 2010-05-23 06:13 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-05-23 06:54 am (UTC)But I do love your pics. That have a surrealistic quality and otherworldliness that is sooooo appropriate. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2010-05-23 07:26 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-05-27 04:22 am (UTC)Really, really liked this single line detailing the connection between Alice/T'lara and the Vorpal sword.
I haven't watched TNG in ages (and ages) but this opening was easy enough to follow anyways. I'm liking it so far, despite my admitted predisposition to dislike Data. (I'm not sure why; even when I watched TNG as a child, something about his character set my teeth on edge.)
Looking forward to the next installment.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-05-27 03:07 pm (UTC)Just the fan girl in me I guess.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-05-27 06:12 pm (UTC)And I really understand fangirling. See my icon? The whole reason I got into fandom to begin with. Spike from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I had never even heard of fanfic before my Buffy obsession!! And now...oy!
(no subject)
Date: 2010-05-28 01:00 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-05-31 01:25 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-01 07:57 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-02 12:28 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-02 05:48 am (UTC)