Turtles: the final frontier

[starcharter]

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 How outdated), Chekov decides to set off.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.

Comments

[starcharter]

"Perhaps we could start with the store you mentioned."

Because right now he could use a hot shower, clean clothes, and hot food. Sleep is impossible right now, though.

[imaginate]

'Follow me!'

Cheerfully, he waves and starts walking, briskly.

[starcharter]

Chekov follows along, keeping pace easily. He's quiet for a bit, just looking around and taking in his surroundings, but then he remembers his question.

"What is the 'Green Lantern Corps'?"

[imaginate]

Kyle answers immediately, 'Starfleet with better colour schemes.' A pause. 'Well, we're peacekeepers first, and explorers second. Most of our universe is already known, it's just a matter of getting all the languages right.'

[starcharter]

"Green, I presume?"

He likes his command golds, tyvm.

"Your Corps does not have a linguistics division?"

Starfleet has a rather large one-- necessary for diplomacy, after all.

[imaginate]

'Green.'

Best colour ever, if anyone asks.

'No. We have a universal translator.' He holds up his ring, and flexes his fingers, to emphasise. 'Anything more sophisticated, we usually have a Lantern from that culture to act as a mediator.'

[starcharter]

"How did your Corps explore the entire universe? Theoretically, the universe does not stay at the same size."

PHYSICS.

[imaginate]

He frowns. 'Maybe I should have been more specific. There's not much left to explore, just the frontier and we've got enough means and time to explore it once the other stuff's sorted out.'

He shrugs. 'Order is the main priority.'

There were too many wars.

[starcharter]

"The balance of power and use of diplomacy?"

Despite the relative peace, even his universe had issues with the balance of power.

[imaginate]

'Yeah. We've got extreme disparities in levels of technology; cultures that haven't invented the wheel alongside those who grow people in test tubes. I tend to level the playing field.' A beat. 'Sometimes literally.'

[starcharter]

"Not dissimilar from my own universe. Starfleet is more hands-off, even if some would prefer otherwise."

His tone says he disagrees with their opinion.

[imaginate]

Kyle casts him a curious glance. 'Interference of the diplomatic kind is necessary, sometimes. And force too, can be useful in the right circumstances.'

He's not deliberately contradicting Chekov's opinion, but the fact remains that Jim's crew are peaceful explorers, and Kyle's always been a soldier first.

[starcharter]

"I know. We double as a defense organization."

He imagines Kyle already knows that. But this shoptalk has gotten kind of depressing.

[imaginate]

Which he senses. Poor kid, dragged into this. The cynical part of Kyle knows they're not there to protect the universe, their job is to die trying.

He claps an arm over Chekov and guides him into a shop. 'Here we are, civilian clothes aisle. Pick whatever you like, and don't worry about money.'

[starcharter]

It's lucky he's used to Kirk-- he doesn't even flinch at the contact. He looks over at Kyle.

"There is no need-- they gave me money."

But there's something telling him that, like Kirk, Kyle is going to insist.

[imaginate]

Meet Jim's dark-haired kind of clone, Chekov. Kyle does exactly that. 'Please. First day here? Let it be my treat. C'mon, pick something or I might have to do it for you.'

[starcharter]

Chekov doesn't even try to protest. He knows that expression-- it's the same as Kirk's had been when they'd gone shopping for shoes.

"Aye, sir," he replies jokingly.

Chekov picks through the racks of clothes. His fashion sense is 'if it fits and doesn't look awful, it goes together.' To be fair, he usually wears uniforms; he even wore uniforms before the Academy, courtesy the universities he went to.

Still, he holds up a green shirt (ha) and black trousers similar to the kind he's wearing.

"Will this work?"

[imaginate]

The sir turns Kyle's expression briefly serious. He likes Jim's crew. They're sweet people and there's not a lot he wouldn't do for them, even if he didn't know Jim personally.

But seeing this - he's reminded of what he and Jim have in common, and sometimes that isn't really a good thing.

However, he cheers up when he sees Chekov searching. He knows the look of someone who prefers formal wear (he's friends with Spock) and he immediately picks out something that looks uniformish while having enough colour variety to look pretty stylish.

(Hey, he's an artist.)

'What do you think?'

[starcharter]

Chekov had turned away before he could see the change in Kyle's expression.

The look on Kyle's face answers his question. Chekov nods cheerfully.

"I think it looks pretty good."

[imaginate]

He grins, utterly pleased. 'Pick a few of these, or - whatever else you'd like, and I'll see you at the counter.'

[starcharter]

Chekov nods again before turning to pick through the racks again. After a few minutes, he's picked up another pair of pants, another shirt (this time in blue), and sleep pants. He picks out enough to make Kyle feel as though is generosity isn't being slighted, but not so many that he is taking advantage of him.

He places the clothes on the counter and smiles.

"This is all I need for now. Thank you."

[imaginate]

He pays for them and smiles brightly at the cashier, not hesitating to pay her a few choice compliments. It's clear he frequents the shop, and knows her reasonably well. Then, he hands the bags to Chekov and carries the heavier one.

'So what's next? Food?'

[starcharter]

He's starting to see a pattern. Chekov is used to people doing this to him, though, and knows not to protest too much.

"What food would you suggest? It is all unfamiliar to me."

Some of it looks close but not quite.

[imaginate]

'What do you feel like eating? Or do you want to drop your shopping off at your apartment first?'

After all, that determined where Kyle had to take him next.

[starcharter]

"Perhaps dropping off these bags would make it easier."

Showing a stranger to his house just because he claims to know Kirk is probably reckless, but he just has a good sense about Kyle. Chekov could tell that he's genuine.

"ME-1D. It is about half a kilometer to the northwest."