Gear
Set Moon to Ramming Speed!
But why is the symbol for it a space duck?
To Boldly Go... (a Starfleet quest)
- Thread starter OneirosTheWriter
- Start date
- Sci-Fi
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- Tags
- star trek exploration fully automated luxury gay space communism top level canon (canon) #hashtagcontent all-encompassing space amoeba cardassian boy bands cardassian magical girls darkest bureaucracy debate makes the qm cackle like palpatine hoh is an empire quest it has to be foreign infiltrators more ships ship happens singers delenda est starfleet this is not an empire quest ur waifu is collective?
- Location
- Australia
Fuck if I know.
Omake - Haunting the Miracht-A - Briefvoice
The Haunting of the Miracht-A
Ambassador Nikael Dalera could not decide if he liked Michel Thuir, captain of the Miracht. Could not decide. That was rare for Dalera. Normally it didn't take him very long at all to decide if he enjoyed being around someone, if their thoughts formed pleasant patterns, if their psych had that... that... even his native language didn't have quite the right word. This was, it should be stressed, a different matter from making any sort of character judgment. Some of the finest people Dalera had ever known he could barely stand to share a room with!
Thuir was gloomy man, naturally inclined to take a pessimistic view of the world. Being in his company made Dalera feel like a fog rested over everything, thick and cold and dampening the Ambassador's usual enthusiastic attitude to the world. It was quite unpleasant, and yet it was unpleasant in that way that sometimes felt... pleasant? Sometimes one enjoys enjoys the coolness and silence of the fog. Then there were those moments when Thuir solved some problem and it was like the clouds parted and a ray of sunshine beamed down and illuminated the mental landscape quite brilliantly.
Dalera had already intuited that a key part of Thuir's leadership style, something he was likely unaware of himself, was that his subordinates would go to to extra lengths because they wanted to cheer their captain up. They would, if Dalera could put it so crudely, do anything to make Michel Thuir smile.
"Ambassador? Ambassador?"
How embarrassing, he'd been so distracted trying to decide if he liked Thuir that he'd missed Thuir actually talking to him.
"Ah yes Captain, apologies for being a bit distracted." The turbolift they were in came to a halt. Dalera recollected himself and stroked the flower on his lapel. "You were saying you picked up this particle theorist team at the same time you transported me up from Ferasa?
"Slightly before, from a civilian ship in-system," corrected Thuir as they walked the corridor. "They need to try their experiment while traveling at a higher warp factor than most ships can manage, and since we're taking you back to Betazed at all possible speed we were happy to help."
The usual gloomy look appeared on his face. "Of course the Miracht's science team will actually run the experiment. We've had trouble with uncontrolled activations of equipment before." A vision of the ship's corridors covered in jungles flashed through his mind.
"I see. Well, the science won't mean much to me I'm sure, but the thrill of discovery from those particle theorists will be just the thing to invigorate me before the summit."
===
Dalera awoke with a splitting headache, sprawled on the ground. It was like he was a student again!
His eyes fluttered open, then shut again at the glare of the lights above. Hearing some murmuring in the background, he instinctively reached out telepathically. It was more difficult than it should have been, like light refracted in a fluid. Finally he was able to make out a coherent thought. -If only I had known what a tetryon eddy might do, the Ambassador would still be alive.-
What? Ignoring a few pops from his spine, the Ambassador rolled to his feet. He brushed aside his long, braided hair and looked around. It was the same room the experiment had been conducted in, but some time had evidently passed. The complicated machinery had been cleared away from its mount and technicians swarmed all about, scanning everything in sight. The Caitian particle team was nowhere in sight.
Dalera tried to recall what happened. The experiment had been proceeding well, and then suddenly it hadn't and everyone had grown very alarmed indeed. There was a flash of light and then... nothing.
He focused on where the stray thought had come from. It was an Andorian woman, Lieutenant-Commander ch'Ufrashron. Of course, she was the chief engineer of the Miracht and the one who had been running the experiment. Wondering why he had been left laying on the floor, Dalera stepped towards her. "Excuse me, but I'm quite alive. Excuse me! Lieutenant-Commander..."
It wasn't that she was ignoring him. Her thoughts were still muffled, but he could get enough emotional feedback to tell she wasn't even registering his presence. He hesitantly reached out to touch her shoulder, his hand trembling slightly. A part of him wasn't surprised at all when his hand passed through her body as if moving through air.
"How utterly not delightful," said Nikael Dalera. He then cursed for good measure.
===
Lieutenant Tirusec Spaurh brushed his fingers nervously across his sidearm. Not standard Starfleet practice to even be carrying a sidearm while onboard the Miracht, but a number of "cultural exceptions" had been made for officers like himself who had transferred directly into Starfleet from the Amarki navy.
He heard it again, a not-quite-voice in his mind. -Help. Help. Trapped. Help. Can't touch.- Unable to pinpoint the source, Spaurh looked around for anything that might hold someone. He opened a cabinet that looked big enough for a person, but of course there was nothing inside but the equipment that was supposed to be there.
We there something wrong with him? Surely if there were some problem with his brain chemistry it would have shown up in the rather thorough medical scan he'd been given when he'd come onboard. But then what other explanation was there for this soundless voice? Unless.... there were those stories being passed around below decks, the ones about the Miracht-A being a haunted ship, They said that the ghosts of the crew of the first Miracht, the one consumed by the biophage, haunted the new ship. No one really believed that, of course. It was just... an amusing tall tale.
There was a small sound. Tirusec whirled around, but there was nothing there but the datapad he had put down on a console when he had first started hearing the voice. That had been a real sound, he was sure of it! Had it activated somehow?
Then, before his eyes, the datapad moved. It edged ever so slightly forward a few centimeters, then one end raised up slightly before dropping back down.
Backing up, Tirusec ran quickly from the room.
Behind him, invisible to his eyes, Ambassador Dalera looked down at the datapad in frustration. This wasn't working. It wasn't working at all. His telepathy was being hampered by whatever it was that had happened to him. Not that it ever would have been easy to get a coherent message across to a non-telepath, but normally he could have managed something. Here he had found ideal conditions, with a subject who was isolated and trying to be alert, and it still wasn't getting through properly.
The datapad was a different sort of strategy. It wasn't a fact that was widely known, but a tiny fraction of a percent of Betazoids had a slight telekinetic ability in addition to their telepathy. Nikael Dalera was in that tiny fraction of a percent. It wasn't normally good for much other than party tricks, not even strong to lift a datapad off the ground, but he had hoped maybe he could type something out something. No good, though, his control wasn't nearly fine enough.
Perhaps this was just the wrong person. Perhaps he should try again with Lieutenant-Commander ch'Ufrashron. She was the one running the experiment. She might be able to put the pieces together. If he had the Miracht's schedule down correctly, it was an off-duty shift for her. If she was isolated from the presence of other minds in her quarters, it might be easier to make contact.
Making his way through the ship was easy in some ways, hard in others. Dalera could walk through doors, but getting from level to level required some rather tricky maneuvers with the turbolift, either waiting for someone going to the right level or trying to use telekinesis to punch the back-up control buttons himself. He hadn't been sure at first how he was standing on the floor if he passed through objects, but a little experimentation had shown that he couldn't pass through anything that was being maintained by the ship's structural integrity field, which included walls and floors but not doors or tables or consoles.
Dalera arrived at the officer quarters area, honing in on the correct room by searching for ch'Ufrashron's mind. The good news was that she was there. The bad news was that she was asleep. That would be no good at all. He looked around for something small enough he could move but that would make a loud enough noise to wake her up. Perhaps that freestanding picture frame?
Lieutenant-Commander ch'Ufrashron jolted from her sleep. She tensed, feeling the vibration of the ship, but no, it wasn't anything wrong with the Miracht that had woken her up. It was the picture of Viera Kendle, killed during the disaster with the Sydraxians. She'd been close to the junior officer, had wanted to keep her in memory for the rest of the mission at least. Why had the picture fallen if the Miracht was holding steady?
Before her eyes, it raised itself up and then dropped again to the stand. A flood of emotions rocked her mind. A need for help. A need for help. Trapped, wrong, trapped on the other side. She hugged herself, squeezing her eyes shut. "No... Viera... I'm sorry."
Dalera stumbled through the door and out of the room. That had been a disaster. He had thought going on empathic bands rather than telepathic would be easier, but apparently the picture had triggered just the wrong set of associations. He squatted on the floor, rubbing his eyes. These contact attempts were causing distress, and that was contrary to everything in his telepathic ethics. Could he keep this up?
But what was the alternative, haunt the Miracht forever? His own survival was at stake. He would die before seriously harming someone else to save himself, but what is 'serious harm'? Where should he draw the line? Dalera got back to his feet. He would just be more circumspect. Vulcans were no good; the trouble was that their their innate telepathy gave them defenses so that it was actually harder to get through when they weren't 'accepting calls'. Humans were highly similar to Betazeds in mind structure. Perhaps if he made a wide sweep, trying to touch the mind of each human in the crew, he'd find one on a similar enough mental wavelength to his own to get through, without putting too much pressure on any one of them.
===
Miracht Sick Bay some time later
"What is this Doctor Yang, some sort of plague? Because I refuse to believe in ghosts," demanded Captain Thuir.
"No type of plague I've ever heard of," replied CMO Robert Yang. "No, I think we're talking about something quite different."
Yang gestured at beds where Lieutenant-Commander ch'Ufrashron and Lieutenant Spaurh were being scanned. "We've had lots of reports of strange voices, almost all from humans, but these two seem to have had the most intense experiences. I've been doing some tests, and they both have two things in common. First, their brains show definite signs of recent intense telepathic contact. The echoes in their brainwaves are unmistakeable. Second, both of them are suffused with chroniton particles. I asked engineering to run some scans, and there are chroniton fields being formed all over the ship."
Thuir frowned even more deeply. "So we're looking at something traveling invisibly all over the ship, poking at the brains of my crew telepathically, knocking over small objects, and leaving chroniton fields all over the ship? Some sort of alien lifeform we picked up in space?"
Yang chuckled. "Actually, I believe we picked him up on Ferasa. I checked the literature, and chroniton particles are most often generated by objects dimensionally out of phase. I ask you Captain, what's telepathic and recently up and disappeared without leaving a trace? Unless I miss my guess, this is Ambassador Dalera."
"Brilliant as usual, Dr. Yang," said Thuir appreciatively. "You like solving mysteries so much I don't know why you became a doctor."
"Ah Captain, you'll never find anything more mysterious than biological systems."
"Yes, your mystery-solving ability is very charming. Now how are you going to get me back!?" demanded Dalera from a few meters away, though of course no one could hear him.
"But how are we going to get the Ambassador back?" asked Captain Thuir.
This time it was Lieutenant-Commander ch'Ufrashron who spoke. "A bi-polaron flux field could resolve his the space-time references. I could set one up in a cargo bay. Only problem is, that'll only last for seconds. How can we make sure he's in the bay to be affected?"
A wave of intense joy passed over them.
"Somehow I don't think that'll be a problem," said Captain Thuir. His smile was like a beam of sunshine.
===
There was a shimmering green light in the air, and Ambassador Dalera seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Dr. Yang and Captain Thuir rushed into the room. "Ambassador, are you all ri-"
Thuir was interrupted as Ambassador Dalera caught him in a massive hug. "Thank you Captain, thank you so much! I was sure I was doomed to be a poltergeist wandering the Miracht for the rest of my days. And you know, I've decided I quite like you after all."
"Uh... thanks?"
Ambassador Nikael Dalera could not decide if he liked Michel Thuir, captain of the Miracht. Could not decide. That was rare for Dalera. Normally it didn't take him very long at all to decide if he enjoyed being around someone, if their thoughts formed pleasant patterns, if their psych had that... that... even his native language didn't have quite the right word. This was, it should be stressed, a different matter from making any sort of character judgment. Some of the finest people Dalera had ever known he could barely stand to share a room with!
Thuir was gloomy man, naturally inclined to take a pessimistic view of the world. Being in his company made Dalera feel like a fog rested over everything, thick and cold and dampening the Ambassador's usual enthusiastic attitude to the world. It was quite unpleasant, and yet it was unpleasant in that way that sometimes felt... pleasant? Sometimes one enjoys enjoys the coolness and silence of the fog. Then there were those moments when Thuir solved some problem and it was like the clouds parted and a ray of sunshine beamed down and illuminated the mental landscape quite brilliantly.
Dalera had already intuited that a key part of Thuir's leadership style, something he was likely unaware of himself, was that his subordinates would go to to extra lengths because they wanted to cheer their captain up. They would, if Dalera could put it so crudely, do anything to make Michel Thuir smile.
"Ambassador? Ambassador?"
How embarrassing, he'd been so distracted trying to decide if he liked Thuir that he'd missed Thuir actually talking to him.
"Ah yes Captain, apologies for being a bit distracted." The turbolift they were in came to a halt. Dalera recollected himself and stroked the flower on his lapel. "You were saying you picked up this particle theorist team at the same time you transported me up from Ferasa?
"Slightly before, from a civilian ship in-system," corrected Thuir as they walked the corridor. "They need to try their experiment while traveling at a higher warp factor than most ships can manage, and since we're taking you back to Betazed at all possible speed we were happy to help."
The usual gloomy look appeared on his face. "Of course the Miracht's science team will actually run the experiment. We've had trouble with uncontrolled activations of equipment before." A vision of the ship's corridors covered in jungles flashed through his mind.
"I see. Well, the science won't mean much to me I'm sure, but the thrill of discovery from those particle theorists will be just the thing to invigorate me before the summit."
===
Dalera awoke with a splitting headache, sprawled on the ground. It was like he was a student again!
His eyes fluttered open, then shut again at the glare of the lights above. Hearing some murmuring in the background, he instinctively reached out telepathically. It was more difficult than it should have been, like light refracted in a fluid. Finally he was able to make out a coherent thought. -If only I had known what a tetryon eddy might do, the Ambassador would still be alive.-
What? Ignoring a few pops from his spine, the Ambassador rolled to his feet. He brushed aside his long, braided hair and looked around. It was the same room the experiment had been conducted in, but some time had evidently passed. The complicated machinery had been cleared away from its mount and technicians swarmed all about, scanning everything in sight. The Caitian particle team was nowhere in sight.
Dalera tried to recall what happened. The experiment had been proceeding well, and then suddenly it hadn't and everyone had grown very alarmed indeed. There was a flash of light and then... nothing.
He focused on where the stray thought had come from. It was an Andorian woman, Lieutenant-Commander ch'Ufrashron. Of course, she was the chief engineer of the Miracht and the one who had been running the experiment. Wondering why he had been left laying on the floor, Dalera stepped towards her. "Excuse me, but I'm quite alive. Excuse me! Lieutenant-Commander..."
It wasn't that she was ignoring him. Her thoughts were still muffled, but he could get enough emotional feedback to tell she wasn't even registering his presence. He hesitantly reached out to touch her shoulder, his hand trembling slightly. A part of him wasn't surprised at all when his hand passed through her body as if moving through air.
"How utterly not delightful," said Nikael Dalera. He then cursed for good measure.
===
Lieutenant Tirusec Spaurh brushed his fingers nervously across his sidearm. Not standard Starfleet practice to even be carrying a sidearm while onboard the Miracht, but a number of "cultural exceptions" had been made for officers like himself who had transferred directly into Starfleet from the Amarki navy.
He heard it again, a not-quite-voice in his mind. -Help. Help. Trapped. Help. Can't touch.- Unable to pinpoint the source, Spaurh looked around for anything that might hold someone. He opened a cabinet that looked big enough for a person, but of course there was nothing inside but the equipment that was supposed to be there.
We there something wrong with him? Surely if there were some problem with his brain chemistry it would have shown up in the rather thorough medical scan he'd been given when he'd come onboard. But then what other explanation was there for this soundless voice? Unless.... there were those stories being passed around below decks, the ones about the Miracht-A being a haunted ship, They said that the ghosts of the crew of the first Miracht, the one consumed by the biophage, haunted the new ship. No one really believed that, of course. It was just... an amusing tall tale.
There was a small sound. Tirusec whirled around, but there was nothing there but the datapad he had put down on a console when he had first started hearing the voice. That had been a real sound, he was sure of it! Had it activated somehow?
Then, before his eyes, the datapad moved. It edged ever so slightly forward a few centimeters, then one end raised up slightly before dropping back down.
Backing up, Tirusec ran quickly from the room.
Behind him, invisible to his eyes, Ambassador Dalera looked down at the datapad in frustration. This wasn't working. It wasn't working at all. His telepathy was being hampered by whatever it was that had happened to him. Not that it ever would have been easy to get a coherent message across to a non-telepath, but normally he could have managed something. Here he had found ideal conditions, with a subject who was isolated and trying to be alert, and it still wasn't getting through properly.
The datapad was a different sort of strategy. It wasn't a fact that was widely known, but a tiny fraction of a percent of Betazoids had a slight telekinetic ability in addition to their telepathy. Nikael Dalera was in that tiny fraction of a percent. It wasn't normally good for much other than party tricks, not even strong to lift a datapad off the ground, but he had hoped maybe he could type something out something. No good, though, his control wasn't nearly fine enough.
Perhaps this was just the wrong person. Perhaps he should try again with Lieutenant-Commander ch'Ufrashron. She was the one running the experiment. She might be able to put the pieces together. If he had the Miracht's schedule down correctly, it was an off-duty shift for her. If she was isolated from the presence of other minds in her quarters, it might be easier to make contact.
Making his way through the ship was easy in some ways, hard in others. Dalera could walk through doors, but getting from level to level required some rather tricky maneuvers with the turbolift, either waiting for someone going to the right level or trying to use telekinesis to punch the back-up control buttons himself. He hadn't been sure at first how he was standing on the floor if he passed through objects, but a little experimentation had shown that he couldn't pass through anything that was being maintained by the ship's structural integrity field, which included walls and floors but not doors or tables or consoles.
Dalera arrived at the officer quarters area, honing in on the correct room by searching for ch'Ufrashron's mind. The good news was that she was there. The bad news was that she was asleep. That would be no good at all. He looked around for something small enough he could move but that would make a loud enough noise to wake her up. Perhaps that freestanding picture frame?
Lieutenant-Commander ch'Ufrashron jolted from her sleep. She tensed, feeling the vibration of the ship, but no, it wasn't anything wrong with the Miracht that had woken her up. It was the picture of Viera Kendle, killed during the disaster with the Sydraxians. She'd been close to the junior officer, had wanted to keep her in memory for the rest of the mission at least. Why had the picture fallen if the Miracht was holding steady?
Before her eyes, it raised itself up and then dropped again to the stand. A flood of emotions rocked her mind. A need for help. A need for help. Trapped, wrong, trapped on the other side. She hugged herself, squeezing her eyes shut. "No... Viera... I'm sorry."
Dalera stumbled through the door and out of the room. That had been a disaster. He had thought going on empathic bands rather than telepathic would be easier, but apparently the picture had triggered just the wrong set of associations. He squatted on the floor, rubbing his eyes. These contact attempts were causing distress, and that was contrary to everything in his telepathic ethics. Could he keep this up?
But what was the alternative, haunt the Miracht forever? His own survival was at stake. He would die before seriously harming someone else to save himself, but what is 'serious harm'? Where should he draw the line? Dalera got back to his feet. He would just be more circumspect. Vulcans were no good; the trouble was that their their innate telepathy gave them defenses so that it was actually harder to get through when they weren't 'accepting calls'. Humans were highly similar to Betazeds in mind structure. Perhaps if he made a wide sweep, trying to touch the mind of each human in the crew, he'd find one on a similar enough mental wavelength to his own to get through, without putting too much pressure on any one of them.
===
Miracht Sick Bay some time later
"What is this Doctor Yang, some sort of plague? Because I refuse to believe in ghosts," demanded Captain Thuir.
"No type of plague I've ever heard of," replied CMO Robert Yang. "No, I think we're talking about something quite different."
Yang gestured at beds where Lieutenant-Commander ch'Ufrashron and Lieutenant Spaurh were being scanned. "We've had lots of reports of strange voices, almost all from humans, but these two seem to have had the most intense experiences. I've been doing some tests, and they both have two things in common. First, their brains show definite signs of recent intense telepathic contact. The echoes in their brainwaves are unmistakeable. Second, both of them are suffused with chroniton particles. I asked engineering to run some scans, and there are chroniton fields being formed all over the ship."
Thuir frowned even more deeply. "So we're looking at something traveling invisibly all over the ship, poking at the brains of my crew telepathically, knocking over small objects, and leaving chroniton fields all over the ship? Some sort of alien lifeform we picked up in space?"
Yang chuckled. "Actually, I believe we picked him up on Ferasa. I checked the literature, and chroniton particles are most often generated by objects dimensionally out of phase. I ask you Captain, what's telepathic and recently up and disappeared without leaving a trace? Unless I miss my guess, this is Ambassador Dalera."
"Brilliant as usual, Dr. Yang," said Thuir appreciatively. "You like solving mysteries so much I don't know why you became a doctor."
"Ah Captain, you'll never find anything more mysterious than biological systems."
"Yes, your mystery-solving ability is very charming. Now how are you going to get me back!?" demanded Dalera from a few meters away, though of course no one could hear him.
"But how are we going to get the Ambassador back?" asked Captain Thuir.
This time it was Lieutenant-Commander ch'Ufrashron who spoke. "A bi-polaron flux field could resolve his the space-time references. I could set one up in a cargo bay. Only problem is, that'll only last for seconds. How can we make sure he's in the bay to be affected?"
A wave of intense joy passed over them.
"Somehow I don't think that'll be a problem," said Captain Thuir. His smile was like a beam of sunshine.
===
There was a shimmering green light in the air, and Ambassador Dalera seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Dr. Yang and Captain Thuir rushed into the room. "Ambassador, are you all ri-"
Thuir was interrupted as Ambassador Dalera caught him in a massive hug. "Thank you Captain, thank you so much! I was sure I was doomed to be a poltergeist wandering the Miracht for the rest of my days. And you know, I've decided I quite like you after all."
"Uh... thanks?"
- Location
- Anchorage, Alaska
Possibly a reference to the old saying "odd duck", referring to that one weirdo that just HAS to be different! This species just happens to have a lot of them.
- Location
- somewhere
Nice way to close that plot hole.
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My fan theory for the Trek episode was that it was the gravity plating that prevented them from going through the floor. Technically, they should have had the bottom of their feet slightly 'no clipping' through the floor.
Nervos Belli
Don't think this means you've won!
- Location
- Murica
How'd you end up quoting me?
Fuckin' Halloween spookiness going on here
- Location
- somewhere
I don't know? Normally I'd say clicking reply to your post, deciding not to reply but the quote staying in the reply box, replying to Briefvoice and then when deleting everthing above the part I wanted to quote deleting his quote tag and leaving yours. But the thing is I'm 100% sure I never intended to reply to the post that ended up being linked in the quote, and I'm pretty sure I saw the blue title right at the top of the reply box when trimming the quote.
Fixed now, sorry.
- Pronouns
- They/Them
I ship it oh no
AKuz
Been Better
- Location
- A Rising Tide of Horrors
- Pronouns
- She/Her
I do too actually.
I was reading it, and I was like "Yes. This is a ship that amuses me"
- Location
- madison
so i have an idea for an apita omake, do we have a list of names for them?
Could definitely see it, once Thuir ends his FYM and takes a posting at HQ.
ClawClawBite
Mad Engineering!
- Location
- Seattle, WA
Risa strongly objects to the removal of this form of fun from daily activities.
"Your kink is not my kink yet, but adding it to the set is a nice way to spend a weekend." -Risa Tourist Bureau.
- Location
- Mid-Atlantic
The problems are twofold.
1) 50% of all possible character pairings are homosexual. Once you bring in authors who do not see an obstacle in "but the characters are probably straight!" this is in itself enough reason for homosexual pairings to become as common as heterosexual ones.
2) We're accustomed to seeing romantic pairings in fiction between male and female characters, we know what they look like. If the author doesn't intentionally include some "shipping bait" in their writing, people don't even notice the potential for relationships between male and female characters a lot of the time. Because they're used to only shipping the relationships for which bait is provided- and since most authors are straight, the ship bait will be there if the author had any intention of creating a shippable pairing.
However, most straight authors don't even bother thinking about whether they're including "ship bait" between two male or between two female characters. So if you have two female characters interacting, it's very easy for you to inadvertently create a situation where, for example, AKuz's yuri goggles go "PING PING PING" and shipping occurs. Likewise two male characters.
AKuz
Been Better
- Location
- A Rising Tide of Horrors
- Pronouns
- She/Her
I have very efficient Yuri goggles.
They were permanently attached to my face in a shipping accident.
> : 3
- Pronouns
- He/Him
No? You mean oh yes.
...I'm on board with this.
"Accident."
AKuz
Been Better
- Location
- A Rising Tide of Horrors
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Also at least two of the Omake writers are /literally/ lesbians, so It's going to come up even by accident. I've actually gone out of my way to write hetero relationships, it's just that Nash gets the most screen time, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
"Accident."
I shipped Asami/Korra from the very beginning even when it had no basis, because Mako was an unusually bland block of wood, and then when it became /an actual thing/ the sheer energy of the moment permanently affixed them to my face.
Ohmagersh! Stealth lesbians!
*Runs away!*
OK, so maybe I noticed already. :-D
One of the things I have been wondering about with Nash is how lesbian-ness works in a species with 4 genders. How does homosexual desires shaped by 4-gendered biology map onto the 2 gendered species Nash is mainly encountering? And is Nash zhen or shen?
fasquardon
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Well, Nash has never been explicitly said to be a lesbian but I imagine it's like being attracted to your own gender and/or multiple other genders, as opposed to the other three. This is probably fairly common in Andorian society especially if we assume that the quad-marriages and four genders do not necessarily map to their evolved sexes but are instead a social adaptation. Then xenophilia is another axis entirely.
- Location
- California
It's simple. Nash is a filthy deviant.
