Path: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!elnk-nf2-pas!newsfeed.earthlink.net!newshub.sdsu.edu!postnews.google.com!news1.google.com!newsread.com!newsstand.newsread.com!POSTED.monger.newsread.com!not-for-mail Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated Approved: ascem@earthlink.net Organization: Better Living Thru TrekSmut Sender: ascem@earthlink.net Message-ID: <41D34972.2050404@saers.com> From: Katrine Myra MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCEML@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCEML-owner@yahoogroups.com Subject: NEW TNG: "What Didn't Happen" 1/1 (D/Y(m)) [NC-17] Content-Type: text/plain; charset=windows-1252 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit Lines: 147 Date: Thu, 30 Dec 2004 01:55:02 GMT NNTP-Posting-Host: 209.198.142.218 X-Complaints-To: Abuse Role , We Care X-Trace: monger.newsread.com 1104371702 209.198.142.218 (Wed, 29 Dec 2004 20:55:02 EST) NNTP-Posting-Date: Wed, 29 Dec 2004 20:55:02 EST Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated:86469 X-Received-Date: Wed, 29 Dec 2004 17:55:07 PST (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Title: What Didn't Happen Author: Katrine Myra (kat at saers dot com) Series: TNG Codes: D/Y(m), AU, challenge Rating: NC-17 Parts: 1/1 Warnings: non-con sexual violence (suggested). Betas: Datalaur and Babs - thanks for taking the time during the rush guys! Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek. Is Data alive? No. I rest my case. I make no money from this. Wish I did and so on and so forth. Archiving: ASCEM, others please ask. Feedback: Absolutely, yes please! Notes: "Tasha" is short for the Russian name Natasha. "Vanja" is "short" for the Russian name Ivan. I've always liked the name, and I couldn't very well have a male protagonist called Natasha. Well, I could, but then it would be an altogether different story. Written for Stephen's "The Other Sex" challenge. Summary: If Yar had been male (and attracted to other males), would he Vanja Yar drew back his arm, took careful aim, and landed a punch square in Data’s face. Of course it hurt. You can’t hit solid - albight protected by pseudo-skin - metal and expect it not to hurt. Vanja, not being stupid, knew this, but didn’t care. “You fucking queer! That’ll teach you not to try anything with me again!” he raged, getting ready for another strike. The android, mimicking human reaction, had recoiled slightly. Ignoring the pain, Vanja aimed straight for his jaw. The punch never hit home. ”I do not understand why you are attacking me, Lieutenant Yar,” Data said calmly. Vanja looked into the android’s eerie yellow eyes, and shuddered. Both his hands were being held in a perfect, mechanical grip, making him feel helpless and weak. There was nothing he feared and hated more than just that. ”Let me go faggot-bot!” “I do not understand,” Data repeated. Stupid robot. It was just a stupid robot, what did it know? “Let me GO!” “I am afraid I can not let you go Lieutenant Yar. Attacking a fellow officer is a breach of Starfleet regulations. Unless you have a valid, logical reason for doing so, I have no choice but to have you sent directly to the brig.” “You can’t do that! I’m chief of security!” “Please tell me why you were attacking me, Lieutenant Yar.” Vanja felt an icy chill seeping into his body. He couldn’t move his hands. Data had maneuvered him towards the wall, there was no escape. Instinctively he felt that kicking would accomplish nothing, and he fought the impulse to do so. “Please let me go!” There was fear in his voice now, long forgotten fear. “I cannot do that.” “I’m sorry, OK? Just let me go! Please, you have to let me GO!” “I accept your apology, but I am afraid I cannot let you go until you explain your behavior.” The android’s voice was cold steel, his grip relentless. There was no movement in his body, it even seemed like he had even stopped pretending to breathe. Fear gripped Vanja, completely and utterly. “You don’t understand, you have to let me GO! LET ME GO!” Forgetting himself, or just forgetting to care anymore, he kicked. He kicked, he screamed, and he bit – at least as much as Data would allow him to. The android was constantly dodging, as though he were trying to protect Vanja from his own actions. But Vanja was beyond caring. He remembered now. You didn’t have to be gay to earn the label “faggot” on Turkana IV. You didn’t even have to act like a hero or resist the rape-gangs, or protect girls from them. You didn’t even have to refuse to participate in the so-called “orgies”. No, all it took was a certain look in your eye, or a slight hesitation as you were about to beat and molest a girl barely old enough to look female, and the taunts would come. And if they even suspected, even for one second, that you actually DID prefer the company of men… Well, faggots LIKED getting raped up the ass, didn’t they? Those fucking perverts needed to be taught a lesson, and Turkana IV was swarming with thugs willing to teach them that lesson. Vanja knew what happened to guys who liked cock. He’d seen a bunch of ‘gangers corner a couple of them one night, when he was out scrounging for food for his sister and himself. There had been about a dozen ‘gangers, wearing colors and markings he didn’t recognize, all armed with sticks, or pipes, or bats. The fags hadn’t been doing anything nasty; Vanja hadn’t even noticed that they were holding hands. But the ‘gangers had. Neither of the pervies were armed, and they both looked kinda skinny anyway, not that muscles would have mattered when confronted with this crowd. The ‘gangers emerged from alleys that had seemed empty, doors in sheds that didn’t look like they could house people, from side streets, from plain sight. Soon the faggots were surrounded, and Vanja, hiding in the shadows behind a refuse container, mesmerized despite himself, watched on. Once they had the fags all good and shaky, the tallest ‘ganger, obviously that week’s leader, stepped forward. Then he just stood there, grinning, never moving a muscle. Vanja knew this trick; they were waiting for the pervies to strike first. That way, it would be their fault when they… When what would happen later happened. These particular pervs didn’t take the bait though; they just cowered, clinging to one another like that would help matters. Of course what it did was make things worse. Suddenly there was a yell, the crazed kind of yell you learned to avoid if you valued your health, and everyone seemed to move all at once, including Vanja. He didn’t move fast enough to avoid seeing though, in the corner of his eye, a bloodied bat poised at an awkward angle. As he ran on he heard the other screams. The ones that still haunted his dreams. And that’s how Vanja learned he could never tell anyone. Not ever. Back in the present, it was dark and pleasant now, almost peaceful. He enjoyed it while he could. He knew they would come, eventually, with their questions and consideration and care and endless, tedious, tormenting understanding. “We understand you.” “We know how you feel.” “Let’s talk about it.” Fuck that. For now at least, there was quiet. He allowed himself to cautiously savor it. Data carefully observed Vanja sliding down the wall. He was still puzzled as to what had happened. As soon as he had recovered from the effects of the virus, Vanja had stormed off in rage, prompting the Captain to send Data after him. When Data had found him, it had turned out that it was the android Vanja was searching for. Why had Vanja wanted to hurt him? Data had thought they were friends. Right now there was nothing left for him to do but wait. He had already called for security. It seemed the correct thing to do. However, he found himself hunkering down, and slowly, gently picking the chief of security off the floor. He stood there, motionless, with the blond, athletic man unconscious in his arms until the door chimed. Somehow, that too seemed the correct thing to do. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ASCEM messages are copied to a mailing list. Most recent messages can be found at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCEML. NewMessage: