tushanshu_logs | Turtles: the final frontier

Entry tags:

Turtles: the final frontier

Characters: Chekov and YOU
Date: Today-ish
Location: Absolutely everywhere
Situation: Chekov has been snatched from the Enterprise and dropped shoeless and confused into a city on the back of a turtle. Clearly the solution is to look around and go shopping.
Warnings/Rating: None

At first, he'd thought it was a very, very strange dream. Of course, that theory was debunked about two minutes in when he pinched himself. Then he was carted from a grand palace to a reasonably large city. He couldn't identify this particular race of aliens, but it's clear that their technology lags far behind the Federation's. So he stays quiet. So do they, actually. The few questions he asked-- generic questions-- he'd gotten little scraps of information and a lot of 'that's the Emperor's business.' A monarchy. That explains the palace, he supposes.

Once they show him his suite (it was pretty nice) and dropped some money into his hands (money? How outdated), Chekov decides to set off. He needs to change out of his uniform, just to be safe. The Prime Directive is that one rule you don't want to break in Starfleet. Even hinting at the fact that he was from a world more advanced than this one is a bad idea. He needs to blend in as much as he can.

A little hard to do when you're standing shoeless in the middle of Metal Sector.

Alright. He focuses: clothes, food, crew, answers. Without any kind of Starfleet communication device, he's going to have to hoof it around the city. Just as well: not having a mental map of this place bothers him; he might as well start making one now.

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At first, Chekov wonders if he gave the wrong answer (but it was the only answer he could give). Then Kirk starts explaining and things click a little.

"Then they are hiding their advanced technology?"

Because he was brought in on a cart.

The question doesn't seem to bother him-- Kirk did act as if he'd been here longer. Somehow.

"I had just finished my shift on the bridge and was preparing for bed." He looks down at his bare feet, wiggling his toes. "That is why I have no shoes, Captain."

"I'm not sure 'hiding' it is the right--" Jim drags his free hand through his hair. "-- Term. It's complicated. You know that line about sufficiently advanced technology being indistinguishable from magic? Yeah that. Doesn't seem to hold true across other universes."

And then he groans. "Seriously? Okay. Shoes first. Come on." He begins the Arduous Process of dragging Chekov off to some nearby store. "And I meant event-wise. Last major one. Nero, the Gorn? Khan?"

That's maybe cheating a little bit. He knows Chekov's older than the last time Jim saw him. Which may or may not be his grand strategy for implying that he's also from a later point in the timeline.

Chekov frowns in thought.

"You are suggesting that we were brought here by magic, Captain?" Sorry, he can't keep the incredulous tone out of his voice.

His frown deepens. "Khan was returned to cryostasis a year ago. We're on our five-year mission. Are you alright, sir?"

Though... infinite possibilities. Infinite points on a timeline? Infinite universes? As if this weren't complicated enough.

And Jim stares at him.

The five year mission. It's what he'd wanted and hoped for so bad he could damned well taste it. It meant going to completely uncharted space! Literally where no one's ever been before! Holy shit. Holy shit.

The enthusiasm wells up and chokes, dies somewhere in the vicinity of his throat. A year later. The dead buried and gone (they'd never recover the bodies of the crewmembers lost while in hyperspace). Jim lets Chekov go, and holds open the door to a shop to gesture him inside. Shoes first.

"Fine. I'm fine, Chekov. We've just got a lot to talk about."

Yes, something's definitely off. Kirk doesn't seen quite as exuberant as he's been lately (memorial service notwithstanding). Just mentioning the five-year mission still makes most of the crew smile. It was new and exciting.

Chekov is trying to put the pieces together, but it's like he only has half of them and he doesn't even know what the final product is supposed to look like anyway.

The store is a bit quaint compared to what he's used to on Earth. Then again, everything here is. He remembers the juulan in his pocket. Hopefully they don't have a needlessly complicated monetary system.

Kirk has seemed to dismissed their current line of conversation. Well, more accurately, put it on hold until later. So he changes the subject.

"Is the monetary system simple? They only gave me one type of coin."

"Yep. That'll be your juulan, it's pretty easy. Translates to about... I guess about five credits back home? And what are you doing, I'm obviously buying. Pick something out."

Jim folds his arms (he's wearing his black jacket over his standard issue undershirt, no captain's golds in sight) and raises both eyebrows in a 'well, go on' gesture. The best navigator in the entire fleet didn't come all this way to pay for his own shoes when his captain's standing right there! Excuse you.

The 'there's no need to do that, Captain' dies on his tongue when he sees Kirk's expression. That wouldn't be an argument he could win. And, given how easily Kirk found the shoe store, he's been here at least a little while and probably has more juulan than Chekov does. Time displacement is likely.

It takes a few minutes to figure out the sizing system, but he finds a pair of well-fitting, comfortable black shoes. Maybe now at least people will stop staring.

"Thank you, I was getting a lot of funny looks."

And his feet were getting sore, though he wouldn't complain about it.

"Just point 'em out, and I'll take care of them for you." Jim gives the kid a bit of a smile, and then heads over to pay (pay!!) for the shoes. Still weird. The rest of the conversation could wait until they were... somewhere else. If they'd dumped Chekov in the Metal sector, that meant his quarters were probably assigned here. They could talk privately there - or as privately as anyone ever could.

He forked over the money to the kedan salesperson and gave them a lazy smile as he turned to steer Chekov out of the store. "All good?"

"Yes, thank you, Captain."

He lets Kirk steer him, though it's really weird not to know his way around.

"You have been here for some time." Not exactly a question, just asking for confirmation.

"Four months." Jim glances up and down the street before he wheels Chekov around to the passenger's side of his dad's car and pulls the door open so he can shove him down into the seat. Then he crosses back to the driver's side and vaults in.

"It's been kind of-- you know. Nice. Like a vacation."

It's not the biggest lie he's ever told, but it's definitely up there. Jim hates being away from his ship, and his pocket navigator can probably tell.

Color him surprised. "Four months?"

And then he's shoved into the seat, kind of half-dazed. He didn't realize the distortion would be this bad. What a tangled mess. (He tries not to think about it all too much. He needs much more information before he could even hope to start theorizing.)

The Captain might be able to bluff, but he's an awful liar when it comes to the Enterprise.

"I would be homesick for the Enterprise after four months."

A sideways way of saying that he caught the lie without accusing him of lying.

Jim gives him a sideways glance. This feels a lot like that moment when a younger sibling figures out that Santa Clause isn't real, and you kind of feel like a jerk for your inability to confirm or deny it for them one way or another. On one hand, it's like trying to keep the magic alive for them, and on the other-- well, you're sick of lying to them in the first place.

So Jim just starts up his car.

"Bones is here. Spock too. Spock's three months, Bones about two. Looks like you're our newest acquisition."

Chekov is willing to let it go, though he's not convinced. The Enterprise is as much Kirk's home as it is Chekov's.

"Ay, coming up with a solution is going to be a nightmare."

He runs a hand through his hair. Already taking responsibility.

"Has the Emperor made any demands?"

"Hey, what've I told you about no-win scenarios?" Jim doesn't even try to pull the car away from the curb just yet, he sits and listens to the purr of that old engine. "Whatever this is, we'll beat it. Because we're awesome, and that's the end of it."

Chekov's seen more than he has. More than Spock and Bones. Just how heavily did everything that had happened weigh on him? His expression tightens briefly, and he has to look away. Everybody's gotta grow up sometime, he's just sorry Chekov had to do it so fast, and under his command. That makes him responsible for it in a way he's not entirely happy about.

"Demands? Oh, you mean besides the whole 'here fight this bullshit war I can't manage on my own because I said so also here's some free digs for you to enjoy in the meantime'? Not much, no."

He smiles. "I said 'nightmare,' Captain, not 'impossible.'"

Chekov had to grow up someday. He'd been a little young and naive when he'd enrolled in Starfleet. Given the history of the known universe, expecting nothing but peaceful exploration and discovery was childish. Then again, he had been a child. But not anymore. Not since the moment the Enterprise flew into the field of debris. Dead friends, dead comrades. Yes, he grew up quickly, but now he's more prepared for what's really out there.

"The city does not look like it is at war. What exactly does he expect us to fight?"

Chekov is incredibly unimpressed. Take him away from the Enterprise to fight a war? He was tired of war.

"We've faced down plenty of those, too." Jim rolls his shoulders and slouches in his seat. "We'll do fine. Come on, which building did the kedan say you were in? I'll take you."

And answer the rest of your questions there. He's not sure how much he wants to talk about the Emperor and her war out here on the streets. Not that it's likely any safer or farther away from prying eyes and listening ears in one of the suites (maybe he could steal Kyle's ring to have a discussion) but at least he's got more control of the situation that way.

"ME-1D. It's about a kilometer and a half east of here."

Damn right the navigator knows his way back to his suite. Chekov leans back in the car, content to have his questions answered in private.

"You might want to buckle up, kid." Jim offers him a smile - he's as good a driver as he is a pilot, and given the causeways here it's not like he can really get up to speed, but better safe than sorry. If he breaks their navigator, Bones and Spock will collude to feed him to the turtle.

And then he floors it. Okay, so he grabs a little rubber on the way, because he's Jim Kirk and this car's built for all the speeds he'd rather coax out of a starship to the power of about seventeen thousand, nineteen hundred and three.

Or so. Sue him, he's a captain, not a mathematician.

He knows the building, and makes it in record time. Parks the car, vaults out and tosses the keys in the air as he heads towards the building, glancing once over his shoulder to make sure Chekov's following.

"Aye, Captain."

Chekov puts on his seatbelt (not too different from shuttle harnesses, though it seems a bit flimsy). When Kirk hits the gas and peels out, Chekov smiles. Some people would grip the dashboard and admonish the Captain about save driving (not naming names or anything). But Chekov, on the other hand, finds it exhilarating. Then again, he trusts Kirk with his life so he has absolutely no doubt that Kirk wouldn't put it at risk needlessly.

When the car stops, he unbuckles and actually uses the door like someone who's not Jim Kirk. He opens the door for Kirk, though it was unlocked anyway. Locking doors is so 21st century.

His suite only has the standard furniture in it, and nothing is out of place. Then again, he'd poked around and promptly left to find the crew.

Jim steps into the suite like he owns it, sets about doing a brief inspection with his tricorder, which he then tosses in an underhand to Chekov. "Here. You'll get more use out of it than I would." And it's obvious the kid doesn't have one, or he'd be all over examining everything by now. "We'll work on getting you a communicator and a phaser. I'm sure between you and Spock, you can figure something out."

Chekov catches it easily. Understanding dawns on his face. They're being monitored. He'll have to do a more thorough sweep of his room later.

"Thank you, sir. I will look for supplies as soon as I can."

To a lot of people, it would look like Chekov took it as an order. He didn't-- the people who know him know that he's simply already in problem-solving mode mixed with his natural politeness to the Captain.

He sits on one of the chairs, indicating that he's ready to listen if Kirk is ready to talk.

Atta boy. The pride and affection is plainly written in both his expression and his posture. Chekov's always been good at picking up on his nuances. His entire crew is, honestly, but Chekov's the youngest and he gets the most mother-henning from the rest of them. For obvious reasons. But he's smart and competent and Jim is glad - honestly glad - to have him here.

Oh, don't get him wrong. He'd rather the kid be back home, but that doesn't mean he's not happy to see him.

"Okay. Long story short, the Emperor - who's a woman, by the way - is bringing us here to fight against a creature. French word for 'bad' and 'I can't'. We're not supposed to say the name aloud, it's been heavily implied that doing so will summon the damn thing. A lot of the locals are either corrupt and supporting it, or refusing to help. There've been other 'heroes' like us here before, but it looks like they all got wiped out trying to stuff Mally into a box." He pauses, to see if Chekov's keeping up with the information.

Chekov listens quietly, absorbing the information. To say he's unhappy being dragged into a war is an understatement. It shows all over his face.

"This Emperor brought us here to fight a war with little information against something that can hear everything we say? Very inconsiderate of her."

Despite his light tone, he's very unhappy.

"Yeah, well, I don't think 'considerate' is even in her vocabulary." Jim frowns a little, and then gives Chekov a Look. Capital letters, because Captain reasons. "Listen. Watch what you say about her and to who, okay? If there's anything official that comes up - she does audiences, apparently - Spock or I'll handle it. I don't want you getting involved in all--" he waves a hand dismissively. "That."

"Understood."

It makes far more sense for Spock and Kirk to deal with the diplomacy side of things, even if the Emperor seemed, well. He doubted she was very diplomatic.

"Should I be cautious about anything else?"

Turtles: the final frontier

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