Title: PPC Mission: The CMO's Daughter
Authors: Sedri and Trojie
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A Bratty Sue in the form of McCoy's daughter provides good training for would-be-assassin Marsha, under the watchful eye of Agent Sedri.

DISCLAIMER: We do not own Star Trek in any form. The PPC belongs to Jay and Acacia. The original badfic, "The CMOs Daughter", belongs to pdljmpr6, and can be found here.

Beta-read by Pads.

The excessively helpful Memory Alpha database (a wiki for Star Trek canon) can be found here.

Mission: The CMO's Daughter

Deep in the depths of PPC HQ is a department that few have ever seen, or cared to. It echoes with the sound of dread giggling, screams, shouting, and occasional weapons-fire. Most Agents, sane or insane, steer clear of it, lest they get roped into eldritch activities beyond their ken.

Activities such as nappy-changing, play-dough battles, and singing 'The Happy Assassin Song' in rounds, in point of fact, because this is the PPC Nursery.

The Nursery is where Agents who are too busy, distracted, or generally unfit to actually raise children to be balanced and productive members of society (well, PPC society at least) drop off their offspring or the offspring of their victims to be brought up and educated. The length of time this process takes varies, but sooner or later all the children therein are either sent off to be trained as Agents or sent back to the continua of their origin. Most of them take Option A, probably because once you've lived most of your life in a place like PPC HQ, it would be quite difficult to acclimatise to somewhere that has actual linear time, for example, or where your food choices don't involve hefty amounts of glitter.

One such child taking Option A in 2009 was Marsha Heales-Shadowfax, a Triceratops from the Land Before Time continuum, ex-Sue, and adopted daughter of an eccentric human Bad Slash agent whose idea of parenting was to turn up every few weeks and talk confusedly around such issues as the birds and the bees, peer pressure, and not swearing too much. Marsha's greatest ambition was to be a PPC Assassin, one of that elite group of sporkers whose daily routine consists of killing – generally violently – any and every Mary Sue they are assigned to observe. Being nearly ten tons in weight in her natural form, Marsha felt well-qualified for this job.

However, the fact that she would have to wear a human disguise in order to go into missions with some degree of stealth and subtlety was giving Marsha some trouble, particularly around the knee regions.

"Whoops-a-daisy!" said the agent currently frogmarching Marsha out of the Nursery. "Come on, stand up straight."

"I am!" Marsha wailed. "But everything's bending wrong!"

"You'll get used to it," her attendant said briskly. "Come on, Agent Sedri of the DMS is waiting for you. Your first training mission awaits!"

Marsha made a concerted effort to pull herself together and really try hard at this bipedal locomotion thing, and succeeded in taking ten whole steps without falling. By the time they got to Response Centre #1830, corners were hardly troubling her at all.

"Well, knock then," said the Nursery agent, giving Marsha an encouraging little push that almost knocked her over again. "And do at least try to stay upright." With that, she marched off again.

Marsha took a deep breath, and knocked.


Marsha blinked, glanced down the corridor towards the attendant (who had already vanished amongst HQ's twisting corridors), then looked back at the door. She could hear a muffled voice on the other side, and thuds indicating that various heavy things were falling over. A few moments later, the door was heaved open, but something large kept it from opening very far. The face that peeked through was half a head lower than Marsha's, human, pale, and sleep-deprived. "You're Marsha?"


"Hang on." The face – Agent Sedri's, presumably – vanished and the door shut. There was a grunt, a squeak, a wooden screech and a clunk before the door swung open fully, revealing the most overstuffed, jam-packed, and otherwise ridiculously full response centre Marsha had ever seen. "What training do you have?" Sedri asked briskly.

"I went on a Bad Slash mission with my mum and Pads a while ago," Marsha said. "And standard Agent Training, uh, training?"

The woman sighed. "Well, it'll have to do. Trojie's a good teacher." She paused for a moment, looking Marsha up and down, frowning.

"So, now we get killing?" Marsha said when they'd stood and eyed each other a little more. "Or what?"

Sedri jerked her head at the console dimly visible in the depths of the RC. "No, you're right. Let's get on with it. Come in. And don't step on anything!" she added.

Marsha did her best not to, but it was close to impossible, especially with her knees. Sedri stepped from one patch of carpet to another, avoiding a huge mess that looked like it had – once – been completely organised. A stack of books balanced precariously on the back of an armchair randomly decided they'd been there long enough just as Marsha stumbled past, and promptly toppled over.


"Sorry!" she said, trying to catch the last few. "It's messy!"

"That's what happens when your partner vanishes into a time distortion for months and then gets randomly reassigned," Sedri grumbled. "Just don't break anything. If this mission goes well I might actually have time to clean up later."

"Oh, what's the mission?" cried Marsha excitedly, tripping over two wooden trunks and an axe before reaching the console. "I get to kill a Sue, right?"

"That's generally the case," replied Sedri, looking up – and up, rather more so than she was used to – at the blonde teenager. "You can handle that, right? Blood, I mean."

"Yes," said Marsha, as if this was obvious. "Lots."

"Good," said Sedri. That appeared to exhaust the small talk for now, and the older agent beckoned the younger closer. "Okay, our mission for the day is a Star Trek Sue – daughter of Doctor Leonard 'Bones' McCoy. You know who he is, don't you?"

"Of course," said Marsha, giving the impression that if she'd worked out how to roll her human eyes yet, she would have. "Standard Basic Training requires competency in Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, and all major versions of the Star Trek universe. Just in case."

"Well then, Little Miss Know-It-All, shall we test your amazing knowledge?" asked Sedri, opening a portal and trying to raise an eyebrow. "I'll even let you go through first."

Marsha eagerly stumbled straight through.

Sedri had apparently decided to bring her through every step of the process, as they emerged in a standard Big Black Void, through which the author's notes, in huge white letters accompanied by a booming voice, started to shoot moments later.

So, this fic screws with the time line a bit, I know McCoy having a daughter 'Joanna' is cannon, but I grew her up about ten years for this fic. Hope no one is horrified by that.

"You hope in vain," Sedri informed her. "Now, Marsha, tell me; what's wrong here?"

Marsha frowned, feeling – quite accurately – as though she were being treated like a child. "The author's just changing character's ages and just asking people to ignore that. There are some punctuation issues, too."

"Good. And...?"

"And... I'm not sure. What?"

"And having Joanna be ten years older than she's supposed to be means that either McCoy is also ten years older, which screws with the new movie's timeline and history of how he and Kirk met, or she's made him a teenage father."


The older agent pulled a padd from her bag and tossed it at Marsha, who tried her best to catch it, but failed, and then had to hurriedly scoop it up before the canon characters dotting the bridge noticed. Suddenly realising that she was in the standard women's uniform for Starfleet in this era, she spent a few moments staring at her thighs and the ridiculously short skirt before Sedri whacked the back of her head. "That's the entire Memory Alpha database on there. Use it to find specific charges."

"... Um... What?"

Sedri sighed. "Look up the real Joanna's birthdate and compare it to McCoy's. Tell me how old he'd have been if she were born ten years earlier."

Marsha fumbled for a moment, still not entirely good with fingers, while Sedri watched Kirk read from padds of his own and the rest of the crew went about their business. The Words informed them that Kirk was waiting for a new yeoman.

"Got it!" exclaimed Marsha proudly. "McCoy was born in 2227, and the movie was set in 2258, so he was thirty-one!"

"And the Sue's supposed to be how old?"

"Seventeen, I think."

"And this fic is set...?"

The human-ified Triceratops frowned and hit some more buttons to access the mission specs. "A year after the movie."

"So if McCoy's supposed to be thirty-two and the Sue is seventeen, then he'd have been about fifteen when she was born, and probably fourteen when she was conceived. Bones McCoy always struck me as the responsible type. What kind of charge is this?"

Sighing, Marsha said, "I don't know. Something to do with characterisation."

"Come on, you must know this."

"Mischaracterisation, then. Jeez."

"Because?" asked Sedri, soldiering on despite Marsha's attitude.

"He's..." The girl floundered. "She's insinuating he did something that wouldn't be right for how he acts in the movie?"

"That's about right, yes."

At this point, the Sue walked in. It had to be the Sue, because no canon character in Star Trek history has ever wandered onto the bridge of the Enterprise wearing a denim miniskirt, a white tank top, enormous black leather boots, and a scowl.

Marsha perked up immediately, and began to scowl just as ferociously as the Sue.

"Steady," Sedri murmured. "Can you pick up any charges off our quarry there?"

"Fashion plate," Marsha growled. "Gratuitously rebellious."

"Is that all?"

Hesitating, and trying not to lose her temper, Marsha looked back over all the Words so far. "The description of her clothes goes on for too long, and there's some punctuation issues – 'yeoman' shouldn't be capitalised unless it's being used as a title, which it isn't. That's it, right?"

"More or less, yes. The rest are minor things: 'turbolift' is one word, the entire bridge crew were waiting for her to arrive instead of focusing on their jobs, and Kirk is being a stickler for the rules – which," she added thoughtfully, "might indicate character development within the year that he's been captain. So that's not a charge yet."

"Yeah, but don't you need set-up for that kind of character development? Like, we can't just plunge in and say he's all grown-up now, 'cos she hasn't set it up or anything. She's just making him be a grouch so that the Sue can be extra rebellious, right?" Marsha said.

Sedri shook her head. "All true, but it's still not a charge. Not yet. For all we know, by some miracle, she might put in some development later. Be patient."

Marsha sighed heavily but complied. By this point, Kirk was pointedly asking the Sue – Joanna – if her uniform hadn't arrived yet.

"Oh, no. It arrived," the girl, no more than seventeen, replied haughtily. She flipped her asymmetrical blonde hair off one shoulder and shrugged the other, "I just didn't feel like wearing it."

The Sue then proceeded to ask 'Jim' if the proverbial cat had his tongue, causing a melodramatic gasp to "echo around the bridge" full of her nameless, faceless, and easily-impressed audience.

"She's made Spock raise his eyebrow and made Sulu and Chekov looked shocked!" growled Marsha, instinctively leaning forward as if to gore the Sue with horns she no longer had, and was only barely stopped by Sedri, who had grabbed the hem of her obscenely short skirt and a handful of hair. "Ow!"

"Hush! We'll get to kill her later."

Marsha theatrically rubbed her skull, frowning as an authoritative Kirk ordered the Sue into his ready room. As they slipped quietly through the doors behind their quarry, Sedri's brow furrowed.

"Check Memory Alpha and see if the Enterprise actually had a ready room, will you?"

"Sure thing," Marsha said, ripping off a fumbling and extremely sarcastic salute and managing to drop the padd in the process. She picked it up, pointedly ignoring Sedri's irritated expression and attempting to hide her own blush, then keyed the query into Memory Alpha. "Well, the Original Series Enterprise didn't, but it says nothing about this Enterprise. Kirk and Pike don't use one in the movie, anyway."

"True, but when would they have cause to?" Sedri mused. "Again, I don't think it's enough for a charge."

"Why don't we just charge her with everything we can lay our hands on?" Marsha asked, a frustrated look on her face. "She's going to die anyway, right, or we wouldn't be here?"

"We have to be honest," Sedri said. "If word gets around that we make up charges, then we might risk stirring up more anti-PPC sentiment than there is already. Also... Does your mother let you use language like that?"

"Mum uses worse," Marsha said with some relish.

Sedri frowned but let it pass, looking back at the Sue.

"So what's this? Starfleet's version of a principals' office?" she asked in a bored tone.

"Ooh, sarcasm," said Marsha.

"And what does this tell us about the Sue?"

"That she's... I dunno. That the Author think's she's really smart and really rebellious? And really cool?"

"Yes. Basically, it shows how the Sue is warping the canon, because in canon, no yeoman would be able to get away with this sort of behaviour, even with such an unconventional captain as Kirk. And on top of that, she's making things harder for herself – look how formal and conventional Kirk is acting." She gestured to the canon captain.

"I think I am the Captain of the Starship Enterprise. I think I earned the right to wear this uniform and be a part of this crew,"

Sedri took out a notebook of her own and scribbled down notes, saying, "See? Kirk was never the type to spout words like 'earned' and 'privilege', and that wouldn't change in a year of being captain – it's a big enough change to be a charge. 'Privilege' is misspelled, too," she added, gesturing to the passing Words.

Nodding, Marsha spent the next minute or so watching the scene play out. Kirk informed the Sue (and the audience) that 'Jo' had been given a choice between three years in "the Juvenile Detention System" or a year on a Starfleet vessel. The leap of imagination required to equate the "priveledge" of serving on a starship – the flagship, no less – with a year of imprisonment was enough to give Sedri a headache.

"No logic, no logic," she muttered, rubbing her temples. "Just dump her on a habitable planet already – she's asking for it!"

This Kirk, however, seemed to have more patience. He gave an apparently well-targeted speech that ended with the choice of spending the year on his ship working or in the brig. They then had a staring contest, in which Kirk's stare was praised so highly that no agent with the tiniest bit of experience could doubt that the author was a Kirk-luster; it even made the Sue "break", a miraculous feat in itself.

"Does that mean she's not a total Sue?" asked Marsha, puzzled.

Sedri shook her head. "Wait for it..."

Then the Sue suddenly, with no narrative explanation, changed from loser to proud winner; looked "through him with her father's eyes", began a sentence without a capital, and all but challenged Kirk to take her to the brig.

Almost in unison, the agents sighed, and the scene changed.

Unsurprisingly, the new setting was the brig, and Doctor McCoy was attempting to get in to visit his wayward daughter.

Curiously, the door lock appeared to have other ideas.

"I don't remember this kind of security," Sedri said, glaring at the door that was demanding name, rank, and, of all things, a "reason for entry request". "She's just using the door as an exposition device."

"And wouldn't the Chief Medical Officer have an override for basically every door on the ship, in case someone, I dunno, passed out on the other side?" Marsha asked. "I mean, it would seem logical."

"Well, I've never seen a CMO locked out of a room on Star Trek," Sedri agreed. "I think we can probably safely charge for that."

Marsha grinned and did a little jig that miraculously did not topple her backwards. Sedri rolled her eyes, but with some measure of fondness, as they listened to McCoy snap at Kirk through the comm system and then followed him in once the captain's override had opened the door.

It was an... odd brig. Not exactly wrong, as was determined by a hushed and hurried discussion involving more checks of the Memory Alpha database, but still somehow off. The author's descriptions didn't contradict anything known about Starfleet brigs from any of the existing series, but they were... vague. Sedri read aloud:

"'...a large room lined with darkened 10x10 cells' – Ack, numerals! Don't make me speak in numerals!" she snapped. "And besides, ten-by-ten what? Feet? Metres? Centimetres? Apples?"

"I like apples!" said Marsha.

"Good for you."

Unfortunately for Marsha, the walls were not made of apples. This was probably for the best, however, as a cell built of apples and a forcefield probably would not hold up very well. The cell in question contained the still-exuding-rebellion Joanna!Sue, attempting to be "nonchalant". This apparently enraged McCoy, who proceeded to be sarcastic at her.

Of course, this ran off her like water off a duck's back, seeing as she had just bags of control and awesomeness.

"I dunno about you," Marsha said conversationally, watching as Joanna "didn't even turn to look at him", "but if Bones was shouting at me, I'd pay attention. And prob'ly cower, too."

Sedri didn't answer, being rendered almost speechless by the next revelation of the Words:

"I'm fine, by the way, thanks for asking."

Immediately he regretted his choice of words, "Joey I just meant…"

"That is not McCoy-ish," snapped Sedri, but then the Sue leapt to her feet and started ranting at her father, declaring that:

"You haven't even begun to earn the right to call me that. Okay?"

"Little brat!"

It wasn't about to get any better. Whatever canon traits Bones McCoy had managed to keep hold of, they were more or less steamrolled away by the Sue's alternating dramatics and nonchalance. She yelled at him for several more minutes, leaving him "tongue-tied", and then when he was finally able to rant in return – with a painful lack of proper capitalisation and commas – the author undercut him completely by interrupting him with a call from sickbay.

"'Leutinent' Marks needs attention... that's going to be a mini-Tribble, right?"

"Please don't pronounce misspellings, Marsha. It's painful to listen to once, let alone twice." Sedri paused, looking around. "Ah! There it is! Grab it, will you?"

Marsha turned to see a little ball of fluff pop into existence as the words "Leutinent Marks" were heard through the comm. Actually, it seemed to have fallen right out of the comm panel, and Marsha had to slide very carefully along the wall and behind the security station to grab it before McCoy stepped on it or it was spotted by the Sue.

"So, now what do I do with it? This uniform doesn't have pockets," the Triceratops pointed out.

"Just... hold onto it," said Sedri, not seeing any alternatives. Marsha frowned, not wanting to be encumbered, and tucked the mini-Tribble neatly into her cleavage. Sedri almost laughed.

McCoy was trying to leave, but Joanna kept see-sawing between grinning manically at him and becoming flat and emotionless.

"No wonder the poor man's not behaving right," Sedri said.

"I want to smack her," said Marsha threateningly. "Can I can I can I can I please?"

"No, you may not. And don't hurt that mini."

Marsha pouted. "That's no fun."

"Just sit tight and hold on for this scene break," said Sedri. "And be patient. A good hunter doesn't rush in. A good hunter waits for the opportune moment. Do you want security to come bursting in while you're mid-kill?"


"Then you wait, and collect more charges, and eventually she'll be somewhere we can kill her uninterrupted."

Marsha fidgeted, but nodded. Joanna angsted from her cell, saying, "good to know some things will never change no matter how far you are from home", and then...

"TBC", came a disembodied voice from the Words. Joanna went as limp as a sock-puppet until the scene picked up again in the next chapter, in which she was annoying the security guard by trying to guess his name while narrating about how she "really had expected 'Uncle' Jim to drop her off at the nearest star base. Then she could hitch a ride on the next available cargo ship and after that…the stars were the limit."

"I hope you're not actually that stupid," sighed Sedri. "Right. See any charges?"

Marsha opened her mouth to speak, but then the Sue started narrating a description of her "Kshanti" necklace and both agents stopped to stare.

It was wild and loud, which was why she wore it, but the little spikes and sharp edges made it uncomfortable, and possibly dangerous, to wear.

"Who wears a necklace like that?" exclaimed Marsha. "I want to charge her for it!"

"Forget charging it," said Sedri, whose eyes had widened with bloodthirsty greed. "I want to do something creative with it. Like put it back on her – four sizes smaller."

The trainee agent caught on quite suddenly, and grinned, throwing her head back and making a small trumpeting noise, flailing her hands as though they were still legs-

Then the Sue said, "You know if you would just tell me your name I wouldn't have to guess."

Marsha's entire demeanour changed. "THIEF! That's Kirk's line, you little-"

Sedri's bag suddenly filled her mouth, and the shorter agent held it firm, covering half of Marsha's head with the lumpy fabric until she quietened down.

"If you don't keep quiet," Sedri hissed into Marsha's ear, "we are going to be on the wrong end of phaser fire."



Marsha found herself disentangled from the bag just as "a tall, lanky figure strode through" the brig door.

"Is that-?" she began, moving forward a little before being yanked back once more by her senior partner.

"Don't let me catch you fangirling," Sedri warned. "Yes, that's Commander Spock. Don't even think about it."

Probably fortunately for Marsha, Joanna was also musing on the subject of the half-Vulcan fangirl-magnet.

She knew who he was, of course, there weren't very many Vulcans around anymore, and only one that served aboard the enterprise. That and the fact that she'd met him once. At a crew picnic a year ago when the Enterprise crew was planet-side and her father had miraculously invited her to intend.

"'Enterprise' should be capitalised! And italicised! Have a little respect," Sedri snarled in the general direction of the Sue. "And... since when does Starfleet run crew picnics?"

"And didn't she just say she hadn't seen her dad in years, plural?" Marsha asked.

"Charging for all of that," muttered Sedri. "You're getting the hang of this," she added. Marsha grinned happily.

For a change, Joanna was actually pleasant to Spock, much more so than she was to her actual father.

"Mr. Spock. Nice to see you again," she said brightly. She actually could use a little company right now, Security Officer NoName wasn't very entertaining.

"And you as well, Yeoman McCoy."

Jo wrinkled her nose, "it's Jo. I'm not overly fond of titles."

Spock tilted his head to one side, "it is an honor to be bestowed a title in Starfleet."

"Precisely," said Sedri, still frantically scribbling charges. "You'd better remember that, girly."

"You don't s'pose she's going to set herself up with Spock, do you?" Marsha asked, head cocked to one side, considering both characters.

Sedri eyed the girl for a moment, then sighed. "I sincerely hope not. And that's the kind of thing your mother would have pointed out. Good on you."

Marsha beamed.

Meanwhile, the security guard – an Ensign Daniels, apparently – had been dismissed, and Spock had spoken in numerals, causing a large granite "1" and "5" to fall out of the sky and land with a thump, which the Sue, thankfully, was too distracted to notice. She asked whether Kirk was "sending his underlings to do his dirty work now?"

"On the contrary," Spock began, taking a small step forward, his hands clasped calmly behind his back, "I am here of my own volition. Also, the brig meets all sanitary standards expected of a Starfleet vessel."

Sedri snickered, and Marsha shot her a dirty look. "What?"

"You're laughing at the same time as the Sue! You can't do that!"

"It is funny; we can't deny the story's good points just because we hate its guts. And it's also something Spock might say, though I think he's more likely to be perfectly aware of the actual meaning of the phrase."

"...You think he's being sarcastic?"

"Since this is a Suefic, no, but in other circumstances..." She shrugged.

The Sue had flopped back on her cell bed and closed her eyes while Spock stated that he was 'curious' about her behaviour in the last scene.

"Silly reason to come all the way down here."

"Indeed." Hesitating, and watching as Marsha jittered in anticipation, Sedri added, "I suppose that could be a minor charge..."

It was immediately scribbled down. "We're going to need to compare our charge lists at some point," said the veteran, looking at her own notebook and then at the new, shiny-looking one that Marsha was using.

"This is the only one I've written down so far," Marsha pointed out. "But I guess you're right. Should I keep writing them down, or stop?"

"It's good practice for you to write them down," said Sedri. Marsha nodded, doing her best to look alert and professional.

Whilst this important logistical decision was made, Spock enquired of the young Sue why, exactly, she'd kicked up such a fuss, and if she'd rather be in a "Juvenile Rehabilitation Center".

"I just don't like being told what to do. I was told I had to come here. I was made Yeoman because it's supposed to teach me responsibility and teamwork and a whole shipload of crap that I don't care about or want any part of."

"All of which suggests that you should have been put in rehab!" Marsha pointed out.

Spock then deduced, in a rather impressively in-character manner, that her "rebellious behavior on the bridge was really just an attempt to take charge of a situation that was out of your control. And by allowing yourself to be put in the brig, you gained said control because it was not the original option put before you."

"Damn it, that sounds just like him," muttered Sedri. "It's such a shame; if this person had just stuck to writing about canon characters – and found a good beta-reader – we wouldn't be here sporking her work."

Marsha blinked. "But... she's a Suethor. They never write good stuff."

"If only that were the case," sighed Sedri, "but there are plenty of badfic writers out there with real talent, good style, and so on. In their case it's what they choose to write that's the problem. If this person were writing a Spock-centric fic with no OCs, it could well qualify as goodfic. I remind you, dear, that you're an ex-Sue yourself. Does that mean you're always going to be intolerable to sane persons?"

"I was a flat character. I grew. Authors are real-world people."

"Which means they can grow up, too. We all do. Do you know how many PPC agents are ex-badfic writers?"

"...from the way you say it, I'm guessing a lot?"

"A lot more than you'd think, certainly."

"But I thought we were supposed to punish badficcers?"

"No, we're supposed to fix their mistakes. Our concern is keeping the Word Worlds on track – we never deal with the authors themselves. They're Real World people and we have to respect that."


"Oh I don't know, it's kind of cozy down here," she smiled bitterly, "temperature control, all the glowing white light I want and Danny and I have finished a couple of challenging Sudoku puzzles together."

"That is human sarcasm, is it not? I have become quite familiar with it through my dealings with Dr. McCoy."

Spock noticed a slight change in the girl's expression with the mention of the CMO, but it seemed she was determined not to express herself any further. He studied her for a few moments more. She stared back at him unblinkingly.

"Notice how independent and yet fragile she is?"


"And how the Author manages to bring in her angst yet again? Fairly typical Sue traits, and quite often used to attract canon males, although hopefully not in this situation." Sedri regarded the scene a while longer, and then sighed. "And she's completely changed tack again – all this chopping and changing... stupid child. They don't mix."

"I win," she said after a moment.

"I beg your pardon?"

She smiled a cockeyed grin, "you blinked first."

Spock raised an eyebrow and silently came to the conclusion that this particular human was even more illogical than most of whom he had encountered. He found that was both unexpected and troubling.

"Yes, she's definitely trying to get Spock's attention," Sedri said, frowning.

"But... this is listed as a Kirk/OC fic." Marsha checked her PADD.

"She's probably trying to be more impressive by getting attention from them both," replied Sedri, waving it off. "Look at how she's using him as a mouthpiece to set up her relationship with Kirk."

Spock had stopped halfway to the door and turned back. "Yeoman McCoy."

She sighed and bit back a curse, "yeah Spock?" she asked, one arm flung haphazardly across her eyes.

"Commander," he corrected evenly, (Sedri gave a little cheer) "might I make a suggestion?"

"You might, Commander."

"The Captain's history is public record available to you should you request it. I think you might find its contents…stimulating."

Marsha frowned. "That's a romance setup?"

"I thought you came from a Suefic."

"I was nymphomaniacal. Mum says my fic had no attempt at romance at all."

"Ah, I see. Yes, it's a setup- Oh, look out; scene change."

As she had been taught, Marsha braced herself, but these scene changes were done properly, with no jarring beyond three little hyphens that Sedri was collecting in her Bag, so neither agent ended up with a headache.

"It's a setup," Sedri continued. "There isn't really a logical reason for Spock to suggest she look up Kirk's history, though you can draw connections if you want. It's borderline, but the way it's presented, especially with Kirk being such a major character?" She gestured to the captain, who was cautiously walking into sickbay – their new locale, courtesy of the scene shift. "I'm just glad it's not as blatant as the usual Suefics – Ironic Over-Power willing!" she added quickly.

The sickbay scene was short, and the agents spent their first few minutes picking up little charges, scowling at a nurse's "MediPad" ("There is no such thing," Sedri scowled, directing Marsha to write the charge as fast as possible; "a padd is just a reading device, like a piece of paper") and wondering why McCoy kept his office door locked during work hours.

Simply put, McCoy was "pissed" and Kirk was acting wise.

"I'm way past pissed Jim. The whole point of bringing Joey here was so that she wouldn't end up in a Juvenile Correctional Facility. So the first thing you do when she comes aboard is send her to the brig? My god man does that actually make sense to you?"

"Yes," said Marsha and Sedri in perfect unison.

"Hey, it wasn't exactly my first choice, okay? You think I like seeing her behind a forcefeild-

"Typo!" exclaimed Marsha.

- like some ferengi-

"CAPITAL!" roared Sedri.

-smuggler?" Jim demanded. Of course he didn't. Jo was Bones' daughter, he'd known her since…well, since before the attitude got out of hand and she realized her father was as imperfect as the rest of the universe.

"So that's the explanation, then?" Marsha said tentatively. "That's why she's acting like such a bitch?"

"An explanation, but not an excuse," confirmed Sedri, nodding. "And she- Wait, I'm supposed to be teaching you. What other charge can you spot in that line?"

"... Er... can you give me a hint?"

"Has to do with time."

"Oh. Oh! She's making it out like she and Kirk have known each other for ages, but they couldn't, because he only met McCoy four years ago, and she says she hasn't seen her father in years!"

"Bingo. Now, there is a bit of room for argument – it's possible that she and McCoy and Kirk were all in the same place at the same time during one of his first two years as a cadet, but that weird bit about a crew picnic locks it, since she specifies that it took place a year ago while the crew was 'planet-side'." Sedri smiled at her. "Very good!"

Marsha beamed.

Meanwhile, Kirk's voice had been described as dropping "a few octaves", which, aside from being more or less physiologically impossible unless he'd been speaking in falsetto, meant that dialogue was echoing around the room in a very heavy bass tone. It wasn't painful, just... weird.

"Look, you and I both know that she doesn't want this out of her life. But she needed a reality check and I prefer she get it from me than some Earth judge who doesn't know her and doesn't care what happens to her. Wouldn't you?"

Bones looked up and saw the sincerity in his young friend's eyes.

"Blech," was Marsha's reaction to that. Sedri looked at her quizzically. "They told us in training that it's tacky to see things in people's eyes," the Triceratops elaborated. "Apparently it's not a charge, though, because it can be used well, right?"

"Yes. But I can spot another definite charge coming up – can you?"

Marsha peered at the scene. After a few seconds of watching the Sue read about "James T Kirk, Captain, NCC-1701 Enterprise", James T. Kirk himself did indeed walk through the door.

"Yeoman," Kirk greeted, nodding his head and clasping his hands behind his back in a way that reminded her of Spock, "you requested to meet with me."

"A captain wouldn't just come running if a yeoman asked to see him, would he?" Marsha asked. "That's the charge, right?"

"Yep. James T. Kirk does not come running like a puppy for anyone, especially not someone who's being as high-and-mighty as little Joanna!Sue."

It didn't get better. The Sue took her time, giving him 'a long hard look' before firing off a question:

"Did you bring me here so you could 'save me' the way Admiral Pike once saved you?"

Kirk denied it; the Sue looked suspicious, and then went into a mini-rant about why there was no reason for him to allow "a juvenile delinquent from a wealthy Earth family" onto his ship.

"Yeah!" exclaimed Marsha, sufficiently quietly. Then, realising this could technically be construed as supporting the Sue, she closed her mouth and went back to putting the charge lists in order.

Kirk licked his lips and set his jaw with determination, "because Bones asked me to."

Immediately the scowl fell off her face and her blue eyes widened, her arms dropping with shock. She hadn't expected that.

"Bit of a melodramatic reaction, though, missy," said Sedri, tiredly. "How much more is left in this fic?"

Marsha checked. "This is the last scene of the second chapter, and that's all she's written so far."

"Good. I'm getting bored."

Indeed, it did seem a bit repetitive. Marsha poked a bit at the mini-Tribble squashed in the front of her dress and Kirk, while telling "Jo" that her father had always cared about her, languidly stepped through the brig doorway where an invisible forcefield should have been.

"Eh... what? Marsha, what's happening?"

Marsha frowned and fiddled with the padd, her fingers becoming more nimble with practice. "There was never a forcefield up. In a few minutes he's going to explain that it was all a test and a challenge for her; some babbly metaphorical stuff about having choices even though she thought she didn't." The Triceratops frowned. "I don't get it."

"Neither do I. She's not the brightest little sparkle, but forcefields are visible for a moment when they go on and off, and she'd have noticed if her food was handed in without it being deactivated, and they do, you know, make noise when they're on." Sedri scowled. "Not much, but it is there."

"So we can charge her?"

"Please. And add another point against Kirk for mischaracterisation. He's not the type to set up a thing like that. He gets straight to the point."

Marsha went to write the charge down, but in her enthusiasm, the flourishing script she was attempting to affect ended with her catapulting the pen across the brig. She crept forward to get it while Kirk "dared" the Sue to make her life better, as if this was a psychological tactic that actually worked on anyone other than pre-schoolers and genius-level repeat offenders. Unfortunately, Kirk had noticed the pen too. Finishing his little pep-talk, he bent down to pick it up – and came face to face with Marsha, who was too close for the canon to cloak her.

They stared at each other for a split-second before reacting. Marsha's reflexes were a hair faster, and she headbutted the good captain in the gut before he managed to grab her collar, but after that she was stuck. Kirk got her into a business-like armlock, while the Sue gaped at them both.

None of them noticed Sedri swearing quietly to herself and sneaking up behind Kirk with a steel-cased DVD of Star Trek: 2009.

"How the hell did you get in here?" Kirk was asking the struggling Marsha just as Sedri reached her target.


Kirk fell to the ground, unconscious, and Marsha detangled herself.

"Um, oops?" was her only response to the potentially award-winning Disappointed Authority Face Sedri was giving her.



"That's all you have to say?"


"You really- Quick, grab her!"

The Sue had decided to make a break for it. Marsha threw herself across the brig and collided with her. A big, heavy girl even in human disguise, fourteen-year-old Marsha made short work of the skinny seventeen-year-old Sue. Then she decided to add insult to injury, and sat on her.

"Charge time now?" she asked brightly, ignoring the slightly anoxic flailing from beneath.

"You have no finesse, do you?" Sedri said, shaking her head, but with a hint of a smile. "Yes, time for charges. Here's my notebook. Where's yours?"

Marsha picked it up from where it had fallen on the floor, and flipped both open, though she read mostly from Sedri's, which had much more in it. "Joanna McCoy, also known as Mary Sue," she began proudly, "you are charged with being gratuitously rebellious, committing fashion crimes, taking a whole paragraph to describe your clothes, flouting all rules of behaviour aboard a starship, especially since you're a yeoman and Kirk's the captain, though you were already thrown in the brig for that, so I guess we don't have to punish you for it."

Pinned to the floor, Joanna was starting to gasp for breath. There was a slight cracking sound that Sedri hoped was a rib.

"Not paying attention when Bones McCoy is shouting at you," continued Marsha. "Being so stupid as to think your 'Uncle' Jim would just let you wander off at a starbase. Wearing a stupid spiky necklace. Ignoring the great honour of being offered a Starfleet title. Having Starfleet crews run picnics. Trying to be independent yet fragile and constantly angsting."

For good measure, Marsha whacked the Sue with a notebook. Sedri looked proud.

"Mischaracterising pretty much the entire bridge crew by making them act like the paid audience of a bad soap opera, insinuating that McCoy was a teenage father and making him 'tongue-tied'. Making Jim Kirk be formal, conventional, and also really tacky and act like some kind of motivational speaker when even the Shatner!Kirk wasn't that bad, going on and on about 'privilege', which you misspelt, by the way, and how you have to 'earn' it, making him be all metaphorical and wise and talk around issues rather than being direct and no-bullshit, which is what he's famous for. You also made Kirk come running like a puppy when you called, which is also very out of character and you mischaracterised Spock by making him come all the way to the brig simply to find out why you were being so childish when that's not a logical use of his time as first officer."

The Sue's face was going a fetching shade of purple by this point. Marsha wriggled lower, freeing the lungs, if the gasp from her victim was anything to go by, but now causing some interesting gristly noises from the spinal region. "I can just squash her now it if would be easier," she said earnestly to Sedri.

"Have you finished your charge list?" Sedri asked, much in the manner of someone asking a small child if they'd eaten all their vegetables.

"No," said Marsha, pouting. "Do I have to?"

"Yes," said Sedri implacably.

"Fine. Mary Sue, you are also charged with mucking up language by creating the mini-Tribble 'Leutinent Marks', misspelling 'forcefield' and 'privilege', capitalising 'yeoman' when not using it as someone's title, making 'turbolift' into two words, creating '10x10 cells', whatever they are, repeatedly speaking in numerals, and disrespecting the Enterprise by leaving it uncapitalised and unitalicised. And you made stupid changes to the legal system just so that you could get onto the Enterprise and still be a whiny rebellious twit by making out that some judge would have given you a choice between imprisonment and service in Starfleet, and on the flagship no less."

Marsha took a deep and theatrical breath at this point, wriggled some more – apparently just to relish the sound of various portions of the Sue breaking under the strain – and continued.

"You're also charged with making the doors do stupid and illogical things like not let the CMO in, when he ought to have a priority override for every door on the ship in case of medical emergency, and making the doors into exposition devices, using Spock as a plot device, making McCoy lock his office door during work hours for no good reason, messing around with the physics of forcefields and of Kirk's voice – dropping 'a few octaves' from his normal voice would be really, REALLY deep – creating 'MediPads', which sound like a sanitary item to me, asking your readers to just ignore canon ages and the continuity of the canon, aaaaaaand... screwing with the timeline – not just the canon timeline but even the AU timeline you've established. First you say that this is one year after the events of the latest movie, which means that it's four years since Kirk and McCoy met, so you'd've been thirteen, but then you say it's been years – plural –since you've seen McCoy and that Kirk has known you since 'before the attitude', and then to top it off, you say that the Enterprise crew had a picnic planetside a year ago, which would have been before they started their current mission, maybe even before the events of the movie, at which point, of course, the crew didn't even know each other!"

"Breathe, girl," laughed Sedri.

Marsha smacked the Sue again. "And so now we're going to execute you for your own good and for the good of the entire multiverse!" She looked up. "Can I squash her now, pleeeease?"

"I think not," said Sedri gently. "Your mother won't be pleased if you come back without having learned something about the fine art of assassination. Besides, crushing her isn't very imaginative, and that's the best part of the job." She paused, tapping her lip with a finger, and stepped over the whimpering Sue (who was angsting again) into the brig cell, where the spiky 'Kshanti' necklace was still sitting where she had left it, on a corner of the bed.

Returning, she knelt beside the Sue and said, "I would also like to charge you for the paragraph in which Kirk is 'struck by' your arrogant and childish qualities, as it's such a blatant set-up for romance in later chapters, but since they haven't been written yet, I can only warn you. Also, let me point out that, playboy or no, Kirk is now twenty-six and the captain of a starship. He's not very likely to be interested in a self-important little brat who's almost ten years younger. That said... Marsha, will you hold her arms, please?"

The skinny wrists were promptly and eagerly grabbed and pinned against the floor. Marsha seemed to have decided that, if she couldn't do the actual deed, she would impress her instructor by being as bloodthirsty as possible. It was working.

Sedri looped the spike-studded necklace back around the Sue's neck, took a firm grip on the buckle and clasp (the only parts she could handle safely) and... pulled.

As the entire mission so far had been kept safely within the PG-13 rating, precise details will not be mentioned. Suffice it to say that lots of glitter-blood soon stained the brig floor and the Joanna!Sue flailed and gurgled for almost a minute while Marsha and Sedri watched, the younger agent grinning broadly.

Then, however...

"It's kinda messy, isn't it?" said Marsha, climbing off the corpse and examining the blood smeared on her hands, knees, and boots. Sedri nodded, pulling a small, dark red towel from her bag.

"Here, wipe yourself off," she said. "It's my Capillary Towel; you can use it to mop up the whole puddle. Built-in plothole," she added when the human-looking dinosaur looked puzzled.

Eagerly snatching it, Marsha swept away all the glitter from her body, then grinned. "Cool! Are there more? Can I have one?"

"Maybe. Your mother's after one. Finish cleaning the floor first."

The blonde nodded and began to scrub – unnecessarily, since the towel instantly soaked up every bit of blood it touched – and asked, "What about the body?"

"There must be an incinerator around here somewhere. Hang on, I'll just get us a portal..."

Fishing out her Remote Activator, Sedri opened a glowing blue rectangle in mid-air. Nearby, Kirk was stirring, a large bruise forming on his head.

"Hmm, should probably do something about that. Marsha, go dump the body – through there is the ship's rubbish disposal. I'll take care of Kirk."

Marsha pouted. "Why don't I get to touch him?"

"Because you're on a permanent prescription for Anti-Lustin and I'm the senior agent. That has Privileges. Get ye gone."

With a scowl, the trainee did so.

Speedily, Sedri took out her sunglasses and neuralyser. Kirk was so frequently on away missions and so forth that she felt the bruise would probably go without comment – removing his memories was far more important right now.

"Captain James T. Kirk, if you would just look this way?" she said, waving the neuralyser to get his attention.

"Huh? Who're-"


"James Tiberius Kirk, you have been making a routine inspection of this deck. There are no prisoners at this time, and there is no Yeoman Joanna McCoy on board. In fact, Joanna McCoy is currently in the custody of her mother, and is much younger than seventeen. And probably does not wear denim miniskirts and big black leather boots."

Job done, the veteran Assassin then opened a portal as she heard the tromp of her junior colleague's footsteps coming back from the incinerator.

"Finished?" she asked, as Kirk started to walk away, acting as if he couldn't see them and never had.

"Yep. She burnt very prettily," Marsha added. "And I saved this." She dangled the Kshanti necklace in front of Sedri's face proudly. "Might need to wash it at some point, though. D'you want it?"

Sedri hesitated, but shook her head. "I have enough to sort out when I get home. You keep it – souvenir of your first assassination. Just don't leave anywhere that your mother or Pads might step on it; they'll blame me."

Grinning, Marsha shook her head and promised that no, of course, she'd never do that, and Sedri rolled her eyes sceptically, but said nothing.

Another gleaming blue portal ride deposited both agents in RC #45, home of Trojanhorse and Paddlebrains... and straight into an argument that became somewhat muffled as soon as Marsha landed. Ten tons of Triceratops tends to fill even quite large rooms. There was a great deal of squawking and barking from various portions of the RC, but fortunately no-one, human, animal or mini, appeared to have been squashed.

"Ah," said Marsha. "So... when you get back to HQ it takes off your disguises, then?"

"Hello Marsha," said Pads, muffledly, from somewhere by the bunkbeds. "Yes, usually."

"I think I can reach the disguise generator on the console," said Sedri, equally muffled.

"Sedri, is that you?" asked Trojie, sounding winded.

"Well, who else would it be? Hang on-" There was a sudden loss of mass in the RC, and the three slightly squashed-looking adult Agents looked to the centre, where Marsha, once again human-shaped and wearing a Star Trek uniform of new-movie style, was looking a bit shamefaced. "Yes," Sedri answered. "Just took your daughter out on her first assassination."

"How'd it go?" Pads asked. "Did she behave herself?"

"Paaads," Marsha protested. "I was really good!"

"She wasn't bad," replied Sedri. "Definitely has potential."

"What continuum?" Trojie asked.

"New Star Trek," Marsha said. "And, Mum, Kirk was there, and McCoy, and Spock! She was a McCoy's-daughter-Sue, and she was all rebellious and stuff and she completely mucked up the timeline, and-"

"Kirk, McCoy, and Spock? Did you take your Anti-Lustin first?" Trojie asked, concerned. To Sedri she added, "She was okay, wasn't she? There weren't any... untoward incidents?"

"No more than usual with a new recruit. She needs patience, and some practice with being human, but nothing major. Iza was the same – though I could hold her back a bit easier," she addded. Brushing off her hands, Sedri picked up the Bag that had been dropped during The Squashing and shouldered it. "I'm off home. You lot..." She looked around the room, which was just as overstuffed as her own, save that these inhabitants were alive. "You lot have fun."

"Bye!" said Marsha enthusiastically. "It was fun!"

"Thanks," added Trojie. Pads tipped Sedri a salute.

Sedri waved and trudged out, the door banging behind her. Home again, hopefully to get some cleaning done... Ironic Over-Power willing...

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