THE COLLECTED LEGEND "EVERYDAY" DRABBLES

Introduction

Back in 1999 I came across some little 100 word stories, or drabbles on some of the Star Trek fanfiction pages and decided that it might be a fun medium to experiment in with the Legend universe.

I decided to create a series of glimpses into the everyday lives of Ernest Pratt, Janos Bartok, Ramos and all of the other characters that inhabit the fascinating world of Legend and so the �Everyday� Drabbles series was born.

Not only does the drabble form allow me to write a satisfactory self contained story in a short time, but it also provides disciplines which concentrate the idea, much as the haiku form is a specific poetry discipline. It has also given me the chance to play with emerging ideas that I may or may not want to incorporate into a full � length stories. The �Everyday� Drabbles are fully formed stories in their own right, but taken together they form a greater whole, showing the Legend characters in all kinds of situations, predicaments and reflections: some are funny, some are sad, some are just for their own sake.

All of my original drabbles are included below in chronological order, complete with any original introductions (although I have not included the standard introduction I used for much of the early part of the series as it was identical each time). More stories are still being added to the series, but each can be read as a stand alone story. I hope that you will continue to enjoy this work in progress!!

Sarah O�Donoghue

May 2001

THE NATURE OF LUCK

A drabble is a recently new kind of fanfiction that first came out of Trekfic. The idea is to write a story in 100 words (excluding title): no more and no less. This is only my second attempt at a drabble � they�re a real challenge! � but I�m going to try to create a short series of snapshots of the guys� lives in this form. I hope you like!

This drabble, and all others unless notified otherwise are suitable for all. The character's belong to Paramount/Gekko - I'm just playing with them. No profit is made from this work.

�Well, I don�t care what you say, Bartok. I�ve managed to be in the right place at the right time more times than I can count�.

�But surely Ernest, you don�t believe that unrelated phenomena can govern our actions in some pseudo-intelligent manner.�

�Well, I don�t know about that, Janos, but if there is no such thing as luck, how come I�m here posing as Legend?�

�If there *is* such a thing as luck, Ernest, why do you need to borrow ten dollars from me because you squandered the last of your money on a horse that lost it�s race?�

This story copyright 2000 Sarah O�Donoghue. As with everything else on the Steampunk Central Website no profit is derived from this work, and all contents are for entertainment and educational purposes only. See main index page for full disclaimer.

THE NATURE OF FAIRNESS

Pratt breezed into the Laboratory with a smile.

�Morning guys! Did you know a fair�s coming to town?�

Ramos, Bartok and Helen looked round from their work. �No, Ernest,� said Helen with a smile, �When is it arriving?�

�In two days, and guess who�s opening it?�

Ramos and Bartok exchanged looks.

�Chamberlain Brown?� hazarded Ramos.

�Ned Buntline?� dared Bartok.

Pratt fumed and Helen bravely stepped in. �They want you, Ernest? That�s wonderful!�

Pratt scowled. �I *am*the biggest celebrity in Sheridan,� he fumed, �and besides, I�m getting free �tea� all day!�

Bartok couldn�t resist. �Sounds like a �fair� deal to me!�

THE NATURE OF APPRECIATION

�Why are we here again?� grumbled Pratt.

Bartok turned and glared. �Because, Ernest, the people of Sheridan see something you don�t � you�ve become a hero.�

�But I�m still the ne�er-do-well I always was,� Pratt answered. Before Bartok could reply, their attention was brought back to the front of the platform in the town square.

With great solemnity eight year old Elizabeth stepped forward and turned to Ernest, who was sitting by the podium.

�Mr Legend, we want to present you with our first �friend of Sheridan award', she announced proudly. Pratt bent down to receive his ribbon, all annoyance forgotten.

THE NATURE OF SURPRISES

Ramos opened his door and crept down the hallway. He could hear Bartok�s snoring so he knew he was safe.

He went down the stairs slowly � it was dark, and opened the front door without a creak.

Crossing the moonlit courtyard, he entered the laboratory, daring now to light a small lamp.

Ramos quickly emptied the back shelves of their secret stocks and spent the next hour silently decorating the room with streamers, banners and gifts before finally falling asleep on a couch.

At precisely seven o�clock Janos entered the laboratory and stared in surprise.

�Happy birthday!� muttered Ramos sleepily.

THE NATURE OF WAKING

Ernest was dreaming of a field of golden wheat swaying in the breeze, a blue sky and a beautiful woman. He laid back on the ground, savouring the lady�s fingers tousling his hair, her soft lap cushioning his head. He sighed in contentment. Suddenly, her soft fingers started to scratch his scalp � he couldn�t feel it, but he could hear it. �Don�t do that�, he murmured, but the woman didn�t speak � she leant forward; her breath stinking, her tongue lolling�. Pratt woke up. �Legend�, the saloon�s resident mutt was sitting on his chest. �Urgh! Where�s my lady gone!�, wailed Ernest.

THE NATURE OF WAITING

Ernest had been in there for�he looked at the clock�four hours, thirty seven minutes and twenty seconds to be precise. What was taking so long?

He gave up pacing and slumped into a chair; numb with boredom and worry.

Finally, the door opened and a nurse exited.

�He�s going to be alright�.

Relieved, Bartok entered the sickroom that had been forbidden to him for so long.

He glared at his sick friend. �Don�t ever pull a stunt like that again!� he growled menacingly.

THE NATURE OF FALL

There wasn't much greenery in Sheridan, but from Ernest Pratt's room at the saloon the author could see one solitary straggly tree. Juxtaposed against the empty, wild landscape it was beautiful; the seasons that came and went were all reflected in this deceptively simple microcosm of nature.

As he looked out of his rain - streaked window, Pratt suddenly realised that the green had changed to yellow to red without him even noticing and that a pile of fiery debris lay around the base, being stirred by the howling wind in the movements of it's own peculiar dance.

Winter was coming.

This story copyright 2000 Sarah O'Donoghue. As with everything else on the Steampunk Central Website no profit is derived from this work, and all contents are for entertainment and educational purposes only. See main index page for full disclaimer.

THE NATURE OF REST

>This drabble, and all others unless notified otherwise are suitable for all. The Legend characters (except Helen Franklin) belong to Paramount/Gekko. I'm not making any money out of this.

I put this drabble together whilst on the bus after reading waaaaaay too much Star Wars fanfic. I figured if I couldn�t get to the Jedi Temple grounds I could always send Pratt ;-)

Ernest stretched out on the sweet smelling grass; inhaling the scent with a sigh of contentment. This place was so precious to him; a place of contemplation and relaxation away from the craziness of his world.

The fountain in the corner of the garden sent sprays of bright water into the blue sky � the sound of falling water making the perfect accompaniment to the tranquillity of the day.

Pratt raised his gaze to the warm earth tones of the temple; the guardian of peace in this corner of the galaxy. This tiny vacation would allow him to resume his battles.

THE NATURE OF ECONOMIC REALITIES

The laboratory was usually deserted at this time of night, but in one corner of the workspace the hunched over figure of a certain Hungarian scientist could be seen.

Bartok stared at the figures on the sheet of paper. He squinted in the dim candlelight but it didn't make the sixes look any more like eights. He hated being dependant on money; as a scientist he felt he should be above such things. His work, aimed at benefiting all mankind, shouldn't be limited by materialism.

"Oh well," he sighed, "time to ask EC Allen about that Bartok Laboratories gadget line!"

This story copyright 2001 Sarah O'Donoghue. As with everything else on the Steampunk Central Website no profit is derived from this work, and all contents are for entertainment and educational purposes only. See main index page for full disclaimer.

THE NATURE OF JUNK MAIL

�Mail for you Mr Ramos,� shouted Skeeter as he jumped off his horse.

Skeeter had recently started to deliver mail to the Compound, faithfully examining each mail sack brought by the mail train on its way through Sheridan.

The door to the main laboratory opened and Bartok came outside, closely followed by his Aztec associate Ramos.

�It must be your grant letter from Washington,� said Bartok with a smile, �congratulations my friend!�

Ramos took the letter from Skeeter and opened it. His face fell.

�It�s a letter inviting me to subscribe to Edison�s Wonderful World of Science magazine!� he grimaced.

This story copyright 2001 Sarah O�Donoghue. As with everything else on the Steampunk Central Website no profit is derived from this work, and all contents are for entertainment and educational purposes only. See main index page for full disclaimer.

THE NATURE OF BIRTHDAYS - AN ANNIVERSARY STORY

In honour of the first anniversary of Steampunk Central I have written a double - length, 200 word drabble offering a glimpse of Ernest Pratt's birthday in 1878.

This piece, and all others unless notified otherwise are suitable for all. The Legend characters (except Helen Franklin) belong to Paramount/Gekko. I'm not making any money out of this.

An enthusiastic rapping on his door woke Ernest Pratt with a jolt. After a moment of disorientation he realised that for once, he was in his own bed in Sheridan, hung over.

He sighed and checked his pocket watch. 11am.

"It's too early for visitors, go away!" he bellowed, his own voice hurting his ears after the overindulgence in the saloon the previous night.

"It's me, Mr Legend!" came the familiar voice of Skeeter.

Pratt groaned. He knew that he would never get rid of the overenthusiastic Skeeter so, reluctantly, he swung out of bed, pulled on a coat over his longjohns and cracked open the door.

"What do you want Skeeter?" he said grumpily.

As always, Skeeter was oblivious to Pratt's annoyance. He held up a large brown parcel tied up with string. "Parcel for you, Mr Legend!" He handed it over and was gone.

Pratt opened his window to let in the morning sun, eased himself back onto his bed and ripped open the paper, puzzled.

Inside was a wooden box, and inside that�

Pratt smiled to himself. "Mother Pratt�" he whispered.

..a card and a beautiful engraved inkstand and writing set.

"Happy 42nd birthday, dear�from your mother."

THE NATURE OF RELAXATION

Pratt took in the scene before him.

It was absolutely stunning.

The majesty of the Colorado Valley stretched out before him; deep green meadows contrasting with the rippling dark waters.

The writer sat down and stretched. The turf was springy under him: a natural mattress. The warm late spring breeze ruffled his hair and he decided to give into temptation.

Gleefully he took off his boots and socks and dipped his toes into the river.

The icy water took his breath away, but he soon got used to it and sat back, listening to the occasional chirrup of the birds.

More coming soon!!!

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