DISCLAIMER: The Devil Wears Prada and its characters belong to Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I blame scaryrobot for this. Bad robot, no lube job... (And thanks for reading, my darlinks, my readers. You Rock!). Beta/Proofing: pdt & bed.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

The Good Ship Starfukc
By The Raven


Stardate: 850587.5087708.7038703.847304.867 (Yes, I just randomly hit some keys, shuddup.)

"Report!" Captain Miranda Priestly said as she stepped into the bridge. Of course she looked fabulous, or well, as fabulous as one could look in a one piece jumpsuit with no pockets.

But her skin glowed, her hands were manicured, and her hair was perfect, goddamn it.

"Your coffee will arrive in three minutes. Repairs to the Warped Drive will take another three hours." The voice of her second in command chimed in.

"Is it so much to ask that anyone is able to do anything with an even passable degree of competence?" Captain Miranda said, her voice making every anal sphincter on the bridge recalibrate for maximum retention. Just so there would be no accidents, you see.

"Captain?" Again her tiresome second in command's voice intruding upon her important thoughts.

"My coffee was to be here when I arrived." Miranda sniffed as she sat down and surveyed her domain.

Her pilot, who no doubt would succumb to an exploding console at any moment, was fiddling with his lap in a way that made Miranda wonder if he was fiddling with himself.

Other unnamed and unknown individuals were scurrying around looking busy, which was as it was supposed to be. Her security officer, her only real friend amidst this madness, was diligently doing diligent things. So, all was at it should have been.

Except for her coffee...

"You're fired. See to it that someone competent brings me my coffee next time." Miranda said to the crewman who finally deigned to bring her coffee to the bridge.

Ignoring the shocked look on the man's face, Miranda returned her gaze to the view screen. Damn it, there was never a Kazon around when you were itching for a good fight.

"Captain!" The urgent voice of her security officer, Nigel, caused Miranda to look up.

The Vulcan man was normally very controlled and calm, so the exclamation point at the end of his word almost alarmed her.

"What is it, Nigel?" Miranda asked, hoping against hope that it was the Kazon, even though they had been left many light sabres, or light beers, or light years (Miranda could never keep these things straight in her mind.) behind.

"We have a Borg Cube on long range sensors." Nigel reported.

The Borg!

Miranda smiled evilly. Now there was something to alleviate the boredom! And as for their quest for perfection. Puhleeze! Ugly, misshapen monstrosities that just defied all logic and reason. Miranda could show them perfection if she wanted to, she just did not want to.

"Bridge to Engineering. Emily, we need the Warped Drive right away." Miranda said coolly as she hailed her Chief Engineer.

"Captain, we need time." Emily replied, sounding harried.

"We are out of time, Emily." Miranda replied.

"But Captain..." Emily continued.

"The details of your incompetence do not interest me, Emily. I want my Warped Drive and I want it now. That's all." Miranda enunciated carefully before breaking the connection.

"Red alert. I will be in my Ready Room until the situation changes." Miranda said, rising to her feet and stalking off to her office.

"We're going to engage them?" Commander Whatshisface asked, incredulous.

Miranda did not dignify her second in command's words with a response as she disappeared from view behind the shiny metal doors of her Ready Room.

Minutes crawled by like salted slugs as Miranda filed her nails at her desk and pondered the colour scheme of her Ready Room. All this drab grey, it was all so Stardate: 89776.5848.76876.54704784 and a smidgen.

What colour would work better? Where was her coffee? Were the Borg here yet? All these questions. Miranda threw down her file and stalked dramatically over to the replicator and stared at it with a vehemently gaze.

"Super venti extra pretentious ridiculously expensive nonsense latte. That's all." She superciliously pronounced at the hapless machine. It seemed to give a satisfying electronic wince and then spat out her drink at a temperature that would melt a hole in the floor.


Her door chime dinged and Captain Priestly wondered who was insane enough to interrupt her coffee time. Moving over to her desk once more she sat down and pressed the admit button that was right next to the trapdoor button conveniently located on the desk before her.

Nigel, her security officer walked in and Miranda decided to hear him out before ripping him a new one.

"The Borg are within hailing range and are insisting that we surrender and do not resist and so on." Nigel said rather flippantly.

Miranda narrowed her eyes. So it was the Borg that had interrupted her coffee break. There would be hell to pay. Miranda rose to her feet and moved back to the bridge, sitting down once more in her chair and putting her cup into the cup holder conveniently placed next to the many buttons on the hand rest.

These new Starships really did come with all the modern conveniences.

"Hail them." Miranda said and crossed her legs.

The view screen flickered and an abomination to humanity, to good taste and to everything that ever was and would be, appeared on the screen.

"Yes?" Miranda said, rather impatiently as the blank face on the view screen stared at her. Really, was a little rouge too much to ask for? Also, a peel would not hurt and it looked like some dentistry was also in order. Perfection, indeed. Targ shit!

"Resistance is futile. You will be assimilate.." The disembodied voice tried to say but Miranda merely huffed and interrupted. "Yes, yes, we know. But really, to what do we owe the intrusion? You realise we are busy trying to get home and can only fit so much plot into each episode, right?" Miranda said impatiently.

"So, can you please get to the point?" Miranda added as she took a sip of coffee and felt the warmth and caffeine burn through her body. Was it hot in here or was it just her? Of course she was hot!

"We would like to propose a pact. You help us with Species 7976876866 (Yes, another random pounce on my keyboard. So?) and we will lend you some expertise and allow you to kidnap one of our own so that you can develop an infatuation that will spawn fanfiction and fantasy for years to come." The voice said, this time in a much more reasonable tone.

"Ok." Miranda said. Anything to get rid of the Borg quicker. "Beam her over and we will set up a complicated plan with her that is bound to be full of kinks, and lead to friction, and not the good kind either." Miranda said and dismissed the Borg.

The hum of a transporter ensued and the bridge was suddenly plus one Borg. How ghastly. I mean in person they looked even more deathly. (Yes, I know I am not writing canon. It hardly applies here...) Clearly a makeover was needed. Desperately. Maybe this could be a spin-off show? Pimp My Borg? Five Un-Assimilated Guys For The Electronic Gal? Hard to say...

"We are Two of One." The Borg intoned in a serious monotone.

It seemed that the Borg were not very good at fractions.

"Ok, Number Two, let me escort you Engineering so you can argue with my Chief Engineer. And remember, no assimilating anything, a deal is a deal." Normally Captain Priestly would not deign to escort anyone anyplace, but Engineering had the hottest coffee in the ship. It was also slightly radioactive, which just lent a glow to one's complexion that Miranda could appreciate.

The Borg was clashing with her ship! This would not do. The ghastly green was in stark and painful and eye gouging contrast to the dull grey of the gleaming corridors that they were walking through.

However, there would be no makeover until Two Of One was hers. Damn it. Until then she would just have to soothe herself with coffee and with terrorising her crew. Sigh. The work of a Starfleet Captain was never really done.

Thankfully, despite the fact that the ship was home to almost two hundred people, the corridors were empty, so no one actually saw Miranda with the Borg. That would have required some awkward dialogue and Miranda really wanted to spend her time imagining what the Borg's ass looked like under all that armour stuff.

"Are you examining my posterior, Captain?" Number Two suddenly asked, turning her gruesome gaze towards Miranda.

"I was, uh, just admiring your armour plating." Miranda said defensively, resisting the urge to fidget with herself.

"You are either lying, or aroused, Captain. I am guessing both, based on your physiological responses. Is this where we copulate?" The Borg asked bluntly, causing Miranda to almost swallow her tongue.

Copulate? Did the replicator have the recipe for an old fashioned can opener? Did cans even exist anymore? Why was she thinking about cans? Miranda suddenly has the urge to use the can, but then realised that this was a show where people ate and drank things, and took showers, but they never attended to bodily functions.

She would have to wait for a commercial break.

Damn coffee and damn her treacherous bladder to boot.

Seeing that the Borg was still requiring an answer, Miranda brought her best glare to bear and stated. "Please bore someone else with your questions." Before she continued determinedly towards Engineering.

She experienced no small measure of satisfaction when she heard Number Two pick up her pace to keep up.

That's it, my pet. Run for me! Play for me! Undress for me!

Wait, what?

When they arrived to Engineering, Miranda was already craving a cup of coffee again. This did not bode well for her bladder, but what to do? The doors to the inner sanctum of the ship whooshed open in that dramatic way that doors did and Miranda and her Borg stepped into the space.

Instantly they were enveloped in a world more reminiscent of some sort of primordial dungeon versus the engine room of a modern starship. Pipes, tubes, machinery, metal, steam. Ok, well, not a primordial dungeon, but a dungeon nonetheless.

Perhaps they could have some sort of after party here, you know, once the episode had come to its inevitable conclusion that somehow magically would favour the USS Starfukc.

Out of the blue, or well, the steam, stepped Chief Engineer, Emily the Daughter of a Klingon Woman who had deigned to reproduce with a human man. Miranda had sometimes wondered if perhaps Emily's father had been killed during the mating, versus the only slightly more dignified story that Emily had, where her father left them.

Anyway, back to Emily. Enough narrative POV for Federation's sake!

Miranda watched her Chief Engineer take in their visitor. Emily was dressed in a grey tank top, obviously having been conducting some sort of repairs. As the sultry lighting flickered, Miranda watched with rapt fascination as oil sweat and strategically smudged dirt accentuated every line of Emily's arms and shoulders.

It was a moment that would spawn a whole group of shippers that would write Captain Priestly and Engineer Emily into all sorts of situations and thus fulfilling the ultimate goal of every science fiction genre. Crazy ass fans who would single-handedly support a dying franchise, no matter what.

"You brought The Borg to Engineering?" Emily did not sound pleased. It could, of course, have something to do with all that grease and sweat, and also the huge chip on her shoulder.

The kind that came from being a rebel without a cause and from a broken home where your mother killed your father while fucking him to death. Or he simply walked away. Miranda dismissed her errant thoughts as Two Of One regarded Emily in her cool Borg way.

"You are inadequate." The Borg pronounced, somehow making it seem as if it was actually true.

"Yes yes, and her mother was a hamster and her father smelt of elderberries. Now, can we get on with it?" Miranda said, looking around Engineering for the replicator, desperate now for her radioactive cup of coffee.

"Fine." Emily hissed under her breath and Number Two merely raised an eyebrow in disdain. It was an eyebrow befitting Miranda herself.

Leaving the two to duke it out, Miranda moved deeper into Engineering to find coffee. Passing the Warped Drive she took a moment to glance at it. In the swirl of steam and liquid and dramatic light, there was a horde of scantily clad women all dressed in grey tank tops wrestling with cables, and each other as they performed repairs.

All the male crew and assistants were conveniently situated in front of panels and consoles, thus ensuring that they were aptly located when something exploded, as it always did.

Everything was as it should be.

Upon leaving Engineering, Captain Miranda made her way to Sick Bay, the part of the ship where the sick or injured went to. Just in case that was not obviously. She needed to make some inquiries as to how they were going to strip Two Of One of her Borg Bling Bling.

Another set of doors opened and Miranda found herself surrounded by more equipment and by cots that looked like they would make you sick or injured if you attempted to lay down in them.

"Computer, Activate Emergency Medical Homosexual." Miranda said primly as she walked over to a particularly impressive looking machine and peered at it. It did have a very glossy surface and Miranda wanted to make sure that she did not have any lipstick on her teeth.

The sound effect of a hologram activating behind her alerted her to the presence of the EMH. "Please state the nature of the medical emergency." A campy voice said behind her.

Miranda turned around and took in the resident Doctor of her ship. Her lips pursed in displeasure. You would think the man, or whatever, thing, would adjust his program to have some hair, or something.

"Doctor. I have decided to kidnap a Borg Drone and I want you to come up with a plan to dismantle her of her Borg Systems." Miranda said, ignoring the shocked look on the holograms face.

"Of course, your plan to do this has to basically extend over the rest of this series, as her systems are no doubt complicated and well, we need a storyline, after all." Miranda continued and examined her cuticles.

"Captain, have you been drinking radioactive coffee again?" The Doctor asked after a pause that was as pregnant as a woman expecting quadruplets.

"Look, you Photonic Fag, just do as I say!" Miranda snarled.

"No you look, you Domineering Dyke, this is not going to be simple and it will probably end up prolonging our trip home and causing all sorts of issues with the crew! The storyline might become quite dull and we will lose some of our fan base as a consequence." The Doctor hissed in response.

"Good. That will mean that there will be time for the Emily/Two fandom to take root. People will inevitably become tired of the idea of me and Two together, so it is only a natural next step." Miranda said quietly.

"You do realise that we need to live on long after the series come to its conclusion, don't you?" Miranda added. It was true.

"That's all." Miranda said with finality and did not let the Doctor respond before she swept out of Sick Bay. Soon her plan would come to fruition.


"Captain, please report to the Bridge." Miranda hissed in annoyance when she heard the summons. She had almost hacked into the industrial replicator in Cargo Bay 2, but the damn OS was written in Unix.

So much for her hopes for an industrial strength cup of coffee.

"I'm on my way." Miranda said as she hurried towards the nearest Turbo Lift.

Was there no one at work? Again the entire space around her was empty, which was alright with her. No one to steal her shot from her, the camera did love her, but still. A starship did not run itself.

As the lift sped her through time and space and somehow managed to ensure that gravity only pulled downwards as she wondered idly if this lift had ever seen any action.

She hoped that this would not become one of those Turbo Lift Stories. Though if you threw Emily and Number Two, added some mechanical fault and made it too hot for either of them to wear their tops, thus forcing them to strip down to their bras/tank tops. It could be some kind of eye candy.

Did these things have any surveillance cameras?

The lift spat her out onto the Bridge and Miranda descended to her seat with the grace and aplomb that befitted someone who had been nominated for so many Oscars but who had won so few.

"Report!" Miranda said as she glanced around, pleased to note that a flaming cup of coffee was safely ensconced in her cup holder. Whoever had thought of the idea of Café Flambé needed a medal.

"The Borg have read the script and know that you intend to kidnap Two Of One, and are now preparing to attack, assimilate, and all that jazz." Commander Whatshisface said. Miranda was damned if she could remember the name of her right hand man unless she was reading it off a cue card.

"Damn it." Captain Miranda said as she took a sip of her coffee, carefully avoiding burning off her eyebrows in the process.

It was the perfect temperature and the Borg were yet again interrupting her coffee time. There would be hell to pay.

"Shields up." Miranda said softly. "And don't start, I know they will fail and we will lose hull integrity and other mumbo jumbo. Just do it." Miranda added as she made herself comfortable and brace for impact.

You would think they would have seat belts or something in a starship. Never mind...

Miranda watched in disgusted fascinated glee as yet another console exploded and another nameless member of the crew was thrown farther than the laws of physics allowed.

The Borg were being nasty. And they had spilled her Café Flambé. This meant war! Miranda looked over her shoulder at her security officer, trying to read his unreadable face, and deciding that he looked like he had a bad case of gas.

"Mr. Nigel, fire Cappuccinos!" Miranda ordered.

There was a large and ominous and mood music filled pause as the whole Bridge, or those still alive on the Bridge, turned towards her in shock.

"You heard me." Miranda sniffed imperiously and examined her fingernails, noting with a frown that she had chipped one. Damn it.

"Aye, Captain." Nigel said in his deadpan way.

Satisfied at his response, Miranda turned her focus back to the view screen and watched as deadly caffeine packed streaks made their way to the Borg Cube. Somehow, they managed to penetrate the all-powerful Borg Shielding and wreaked havoc with the Cube itself.

The instant stimulation of thousands of combined minds with the heady effect of espresso caused the Cube to short circuit and the hive mind to start plotting a course towards Seattle, no doubt to assimilate all the coffee shops there. To start with anyway.

In the blink of an eye, they vanished from view.


"Coffee: the finest organic suspension ever devised. And I just beat the Borg with it!" Miranda quipped and smiled wickedly.

"I don't think the script writers meant it quite so literal, Captain." Nigel said from somewhere behind her.

Who cared? She was Captain Miranda Priestly of the Federation Starship USS Starfukc, and she was just so damn fierce, goddamn it.

The End

Return to The Devil Wears Prada Fiction

Return to Main Page