Disclaimer: My pet penguin does not own Star Trek. And, tragically, neither
do I.
(A/N- Please note- While I appreciate constructive criticism to the fullest extent, reviews that are not helpful in bettering my stories are not appreciated. It would be much more helpful if, instead of saying 'your plot was unoriginal and dull,' you wrote, 'I didn't like ___________ about your plot because it was _______________. The story would be better if you changed ___________ to ___________.' Suggestions like that would be very helpful to me. Also, this story, The Holodeck, is my first Star Trek fic and therefore you cannot expect too much of it. The Holodeck was basically me testing the FanFiction waters, figuring out how to set up an account and update, see what people like and don't like, etc., etc. Oh, and please- don't judge my story until you've read the whole thing. It's just not fair to say that it stinks after only reading chapter one. One last thing- I'm writing Star Trek fics for two reasons- one, they're fun to write, and two- I'm practicing my writing. I don't except to make any money off of them or be nationally acclaimed or anything (I do my own fiction writing for that), these stories are just me having fun and trying things out. THANK YOU!)
(A/N 2- On a lighter note, I'd also like to request that reviewers don't say things like, 'ok, I'll shut up now,' or 'ok, I'll stop bugging you now.' That annoys the heck out of me! I LOVE reviews, and none of you have to apologize for reviewing!!! Don't shut up, don't stop bugging me, review!)
Chapter 9- Fionnlagh
Chief Engineer Scott was breathing heavily. Actually, it was a downright pant. He was standing pressed up against a wall, breathing heavily, with his eyes closed. The reason for this, we find as the camera (the camera man has finished his donut by now) turns to show an ostrich holding a dagger to the Engineer's chest.
The ostrich was of average size, neither especially large nor especially small. It was not bright blue or hot pink, but instead a dull brown. The dagger in its beak was becoming rather slimy, as it was covered in ostrich-spit. The ostrich rolled it around in his beak, adjusting the position. He was ready to strike, he arched his head back, and then-
Scotty's bagpipes came zooming down the corridor, savoring the freedom of their new-found pair of wings. Whack! A little too fast, and they collided with the side of the ostrich's head, sending the dagger flying through the air, out of control. Upon landing, the dagger shuddered horribly and ran away, hopping on its single-leg of a handle. The ostrich lay unconscious on the floor.
Scotty took up his bagpipes, who were beaming up at him, and said, "wha, thank ye, wee laddie-buck."
Ensign Roley was stuck in the 'holodeck'. It was no longer blue. There were no more flashing lights, and no more cheesy sixties music. In fact, there was no light at all, as well as no sound- aside from the sounds of four or five crew members screeching as they were chased down the corridor by an elephant. Pink and purple elephant, but Roley didn't know that.
He got up from his chair and walked slowly toward the 'holodeck' door. "Open". Nothing happened. "Grr," he growled. "Open- sesame!" He exclaimed sarcastically. The door swung open. He grinned and ran out into the corridor, eager to join the action. "Arrgh!" he screeched, as a pink and purple elephant came charging towards him.
Dr. McCoy stood in sickbay, pausing between patients. He had crewmembers suffering from things varying from bee-stings to elephant injuries. There was even one young ensign who had found herself stuck in a lightbulb.
McCoy sighed, rubbing his eyes with his hands. The world is insane, he thought glumly. The whole world, no- the whole UNIVERSE is absolutely nuts. Jim's lost it, Scotty's lost it, Chekov's lost it, I've lost it, Spock's- he laughed to himself. Ok, Spock is still Spock. But other than that, everyone's lost it. If they ever had it to begin with, which I doubt.
Scotty came running into sickbay, his bagpipes in his arms. "Oh no," Bones groaned. "You too?"
"No, ah-"
The distressed doctor interrupted the distressed engineer. "Ok, ok, then what are you doing here?"
Scotty, unable to speak, thrust his bagpipes forward. There was a large rip in one of the bags.
Yup, Bones thought, Scotty's lost it, alright. "Scotty," he said as gently as he could, "I don't treat bagpipes. I treat PEOPLE."
"Ye treat anythan' livin', right?"
"Yes, but bagpipes aren't-"
"Look!" Scott turned them over, and Bones was actually not at all surprised to see a face in the folds of cloth, breathing laboriously. He then noticed the pair of white wings that was flapping weakly.
McCoy sighed. Oh dear, he thought, oh dear.
Spock watched impassively as the captain got chased off the bridge by a stepladder. Perhaps he should assist. No, it would be far more logical to assist in an activity that was the benefit of more than one person. He decided to take a trip to sick bay.
Once there, he frowned at the sight of Mr. Scott's bagpipes lying on a biobed, its readings beeping unsteadily. Its condition seemed to be worsening. He made this observation to a frantic Dr. McCoy who snapped, "I know, you pointy-eared, green-blooded hob-goblin! If you have had training in treating bagpipes for serious injuries, just let me know!"
Spock raised his eyebrows, but did not comment further.
Scotty returned moments later, after having a 'wee bairn break' from sick bay. He strode over to his bagpipes and asked of Dr. McCoy, "so, how is wee Fionnlagh?"
"Phone-lag?" Bones asked incredulously. "You named it Phone-lag?"
"Nay!" Scotty exclaimed, scowling. "Fionnlagh, Fionnlagh! Tis pronounced FYOON lugh. T' means 'white hero' in the fine old language of the Scots, a far more respectable race than your Louisiana-an."
"It's GEORGIA, I'm from Georgia!" McCoy growled. (A/N- is he? I'm not exactly 100% positive...)
"And he is just that- a hero," Scotty beamed. "He saved mah life, don'cha know."
McCoy nodded slowly. "Anyhow, Phone-Lag's doin' fine." Scotty scowled but said nothing.
Kirk lay on the floor, face down. This was not the most comfortable position to be in, but he didn't really care at the moment. He had become a starship captain for the fame and glory and adventure... but, he thought, depressed, now his ship had been overrun by ostriches, stepladders, and elephants. No, there was only one elephant, but still...
He sighed, opening his mouth to do so. Which resulted in a fuzzy in his mouth. A fuzzy that just refused to come out. Oh, the woes of a captain!
(A/N- I'm rather fond of that chapter, myself... Fionnlagh is my friend! And, I actually did like fifteen minutes of research to find that name, so congratulate me when you review which you will, of course, right? Right?)
(A/N- Please note- While I appreciate constructive criticism to the fullest extent, reviews that are not helpful in bettering my stories are not appreciated. It would be much more helpful if, instead of saying 'your plot was unoriginal and dull,' you wrote, 'I didn't like ___________ about your plot because it was _______________. The story would be better if you changed ___________ to ___________.' Suggestions like that would be very helpful to me. Also, this story, The Holodeck, is my first Star Trek fic and therefore you cannot expect too much of it. The Holodeck was basically me testing the FanFiction waters, figuring out how to set up an account and update, see what people like and don't like, etc., etc. Oh, and please- don't judge my story until you've read the whole thing. It's just not fair to say that it stinks after only reading chapter one. One last thing- I'm writing Star Trek fics for two reasons- one, they're fun to write, and two- I'm practicing my writing. I don't except to make any money off of them or be nationally acclaimed or anything (I do my own fiction writing for that), these stories are just me having fun and trying things out. THANK YOU!)
(A/N 2- On a lighter note, I'd also like to request that reviewers don't say things like, 'ok, I'll shut up now,' or 'ok, I'll stop bugging you now.' That annoys the heck out of me! I LOVE reviews, and none of you have to apologize for reviewing!!! Don't shut up, don't stop bugging me, review!)
Chapter 9- Fionnlagh
Chief Engineer Scott was breathing heavily. Actually, it was a downright pant. He was standing pressed up against a wall, breathing heavily, with his eyes closed. The reason for this, we find as the camera (the camera man has finished his donut by now) turns to show an ostrich holding a dagger to the Engineer's chest.
The ostrich was of average size, neither especially large nor especially small. It was not bright blue or hot pink, but instead a dull brown. The dagger in its beak was becoming rather slimy, as it was covered in ostrich-spit. The ostrich rolled it around in his beak, adjusting the position. He was ready to strike, he arched his head back, and then-
Scotty's bagpipes came zooming down the corridor, savoring the freedom of their new-found pair of wings. Whack! A little too fast, and they collided with the side of the ostrich's head, sending the dagger flying through the air, out of control. Upon landing, the dagger shuddered horribly and ran away, hopping on its single-leg of a handle. The ostrich lay unconscious on the floor.
Scotty took up his bagpipes, who were beaming up at him, and said, "wha, thank ye, wee laddie-buck."
Ensign Roley was stuck in the 'holodeck'. It was no longer blue. There were no more flashing lights, and no more cheesy sixties music. In fact, there was no light at all, as well as no sound- aside from the sounds of four or five crew members screeching as they were chased down the corridor by an elephant. Pink and purple elephant, but Roley didn't know that.
He got up from his chair and walked slowly toward the 'holodeck' door. "Open". Nothing happened. "Grr," he growled. "Open- sesame!" He exclaimed sarcastically. The door swung open. He grinned and ran out into the corridor, eager to join the action. "Arrgh!" he screeched, as a pink and purple elephant came charging towards him.
Dr. McCoy stood in sickbay, pausing between patients. He had crewmembers suffering from things varying from bee-stings to elephant injuries. There was even one young ensign who had found herself stuck in a lightbulb.
McCoy sighed, rubbing his eyes with his hands. The world is insane, he thought glumly. The whole world, no- the whole UNIVERSE is absolutely nuts. Jim's lost it, Scotty's lost it, Chekov's lost it, I've lost it, Spock's- he laughed to himself. Ok, Spock is still Spock. But other than that, everyone's lost it. If they ever had it to begin with, which I doubt.
Scotty came running into sickbay, his bagpipes in his arms. "Oh no," Bones groaned. "You too?"
"No, ah-"
The distressed doctor interrupted the distressed engineer. "Ok, ok, then what are you doing here?"
Scotty, unable to speak, thrust his bagpipes forward. There was a large rip in one of the bags.
Yup, Bones thought, Scotty's lost it, alright. "Scotty," he said as gently as he could, "I don't treat bagpipes. I treat PEOPLE."
"Ye treat anythan' livin', right?"
"Yes, but bagpipes aren't-"
"Look!" Scott turned them over, and Bones was actually not at all surprised to see a face in the folds of cloth, breathing laboriously. He then noticed the pair of white wings that was flapping weakly.
McCoy sighed. Oh dear, he thought, oh dear.
Spock watched impassively as the captain got chased off the bridge by a stepladder. Perhaps he should assist. No, it would be far more logical to assist in an activity that was the benefit of more than one person. He decided to take a trip to sick bay.
Once there, he frowned at the sight of Mr. Scott's bagpipes lying on a biobed, its readings beeping unsteadily. Its condition seemed to be worsening. He made this observation to a frantic Dr. McCoy who snapped, "I know, you pointy-eared, green-blooded hob-goblin! If you have had training in treating bagpipes for serious injuries, just let me know!"
Spock raised his eyebrows, but did not comment further.
Scotty returned moments later, after having a 'wee bairn break' from sick bay. He strode over to his bagpipes and asked of Dr. McCoy, "so, how is wee Fionnlagh?"
"Phone-lag?" Bones asked incredulously. "You named it Phone-lag?"
"Nay!" Scotty exclaimed, scowling. "Fionnlagh, Fionnlagh! Tis pronounced FYOON lugh. T' means 'white hero' in the fine old language of the Scots, a far more respectable race than your Louisiana-an."
"It's GEORGIA, I'm from Georgia!" McCoy growled. (A/N- is he? I'm not exactly 100% positive...)
"And he is just that- a hero," Scotty beamed. "He saved mah life, don'cha know."
McCoy nodded slowly. "Anyhow, Phone-Lag's doin' fine." Scotty scowled but said nothing.
Kirk lay on the floor, face down. This was not the most comfortable position to be in, but he didn't really care at the moment. He had become a starship captain for the fame and glory and adventure... but, he thought, depressed, now his ship had been overrun by ostriches, stepladders, and elephants. No, there was only one elephant, but still...
He sighed, opening his mouth to do so. Which resulted in a fuzzy in his mouth. A fuzzy that just refused to come out. Oh, the woes of a captain!
(A/N- I'm rather fond of that chapter, myself... Fionnlagh is my friend! And, I actually did like fifteen minutes of research to find that name, so congratulate me when you review which you will, of course, right? Right?)