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 How outdated), Chekov decides to set off.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

[imaginate]

'There's that - and. You're in Kirk's crew, not my own.' He didn't know if that would really translate, across universes, even if their organisations were similar enough.

Kyle sticks his head out of the window and gives a low whistle. It's far more upscale than his own quarters in Water, even if he does, technically, live with Jim now.

[starcharter]

"Ah, I see."

Kyle is uncomfortable possibly encroaching on Kirk's role. Because Chekov could easily point out that 'sir' isn't reserved for just one's superiors or just to Starfleet in general. In any case, he'll file it away in his memory.

"Here we are."

He parks in front of the building. He gets out and walks ahead to the door. It's not locked. Locking doors is very retro.

He opens the door to a very sleek but spartan suite-- clearly he hasn't spent much time in it. Nor did he arrive with any personal effects aside from his clothes.

[imaginate]

Kyle will never get used to being called sir. It's fine when he wants the respect, but he doesn't need that from Chekov. Besides, Jim deserves the lion's share of it.

He hops out of the hovercar, and it vanishes. Stretching, he follows Chekov, frowning when the door isn't locked (did everyone in the future do that?) and oohs and ahhs at the interior, offering brief commentary on possible colour schemes for the walls.

'Nice,' he finishes.

[starcharter]

Well, he comes from a world where crime is uncommon and nobody really needs to steal. Keeliai is a bit of a culture shock.

And in space nobody can get away with stealing. Particularly from an officer.

He smiles.

"It is definitely bigger than my quarters on the Enterprise. I would offer something but, ah, I am afraid I only have water."

[imaginate]

He flashes Chekov a bright, real smile. He himself doesn't have quarters on a ship - he's lucky if he even gets much sleep, with his job, and the nightmares.

'I live in a shoebox. Don't worry about it.'

[starcharter]

A shoe...? Ah, it's an expression for a small space.

"Are your qua-- is your suite so small?"

Trying to work his way out of Starfleet's pseudo-military jargon. At least around people not in Starfleet.

[imaginate]

'I don't need that much,' he comments, mildly. 'Besides, what good's your captain and first officer if I can't crash whenever I want to?'

[starcharter]

"You stay with the Commander?"

He's not surprised about Kirk, but Spock?

"You do not have your own suite?"

[imaginate]

Everyone's surprised that Kyle likes Spock. He's not quite sure why, he's extremely fond of the Vulcan but everyone else seems either terrified or wary.

'... No? It was a joke. I stay at Corps headquarters.'

Like any good ranking officer would.

[starcharter]

He hates it when he misses jokes. (It drove him insane when he was learning English.)

"Ah, you almost had me."

Chekov wonders, for a moment, if Kyle doesn't like living alone if he's staying at an HQ. It'll be weird for Chekov, actually-- he's used to the hustle and bustle of the Enterprise, where there's always someone awake and all he has to do is leave his room and seek them out. Or the Starfleet HQ, which was much the same. In Russia, he had his parents.

But he won't ask. It's too personal.

[imaginate]

'You'll get used to it.'

The truth is: he'll never get used to a civilian life. A house of his own, away from Oa, when he can't just look outside and see green streaks in the sky. Even if it's what he desires most in the world.

'So. How hungry are you? We can have an early dinner.'

[starcharter]

"Dinner would be very nice. Back home, I would be eating breakfast right now."

They snatched him in his sleep. Rude.

[imaginate]

'Dinner it is!'

He claps Chekov on the shoulder. 'What're you in the mood for? Something spicy? Vegetarian?'

[starcharter]

"I will trust your judgement, Kyle."

He's not a particularly picky eater.

[imaginate]

He rubs his chin thoughtfully, and pulls Chekov towards the door while they're walking. He knows it's just dinner but many people haven't trusted his judgement or taken to him quite this easily.

'There's a noodle place nearby, pretty cheap, and filling. Why don't we try that?'

[starcharter]

Chekov has an easygoing nature and Kyle has Kirk's stamp of approval. Which is why he has no issue being pulled or steered or dragged around by Kyle.

"That sounds good. Very safe for someone who is not yet used to the food."

[imaginate]

He pulls Chekov out onto the street and locks the door behind him. The walk there is pretty quick, and Kyle waves to the servers, he clearly knows them. There's very little left in Keeliai that's closed to him, having been here for the better part of the year. He hadn't thought of it as putting down roots, but it felt like Radu's and he missed the Irregulars. Missed going to their gigs, listening to the gossip, and generally having some semblance of a normal life.

He puts the thought out of his head, and picks a seat for strategic purposes, which he hopes Chekov won't notice but knows that he will. It's near the back, facing the door, and in the corner, protected in case anything comes through the door or the roof.

He pushes the menu over. 'Take your pick. I usually have,' he points, 'this.'

[starcharter]

Chekov takes in the sights, committing them to memory. Places, faces, he'll need all of this information later.

He notices the seating arrangements (he does know tactics) but doesn't comment. Kirk did say they were being monitored. Kyle had locked his door too-- he wonders if he should do that. It never really occurred to him.

Chekov looks it over-- all of it is in an unfamiliar language, but the pictures are helpful enough. He decides to go with Kyle's choice.

"I will take that, then. You would know best."

[imaginate]

He orders for both of them, and then relaxes. Kyle doesn't have the same force of personality Jim does, and he's always tried to make himself look smaller and less threatening than he actually is. As such, the space opposite Chekov doesn't seem like it's occupied at all, and if it is, not by someone who's looking to be noticed. (Another tactical advantage, one Kyle uses so often it's completely instinctive.)

He drums his fingers on the table. 'So. Tell me about yourself.'

[starcharter]

Chekov is used to all kinds of people-- the strong presence of Kirk, the quiet steady persistence of Spock, the cheerful but sometimes mercurial Mr. Scott. And he worked fine with all of them. He didn't expect anything from Kyle. He simply lets his nature speak for itself.

"Hmm. As you have probably guessed, I am from Russia. My parents still live there, but I spend most of my time in San Francisco at Starfleet headquarters. I have been with Starfleet since I joined the Academy when I was fourteen."

[imaginate]

He mouths fourteen and looks extremely impressed. Jim's mentioned him in passing - but they happened to be in a torture chamber trying to keep each other alive, he didn't exactly pay attention to the details.

'You call, write to them? How do you do that from space?'

[starcharter]

He nods, as if confirming.

"On Earth, it is very easy. We can talk to each other using video. I sometimes take leave to visit them. But in space it is trickier. We can usually communicate with Starfleet, so we can pass messages through them. Of course, it is not a good idea to use it for personal communications."

[imaginate]

'Must be hard,' he comments, quietly. He's never had much time to talk to his mother, as he was rarely in to take calls, and beyond that, he'd never had friends before Connor.

[starcharter]

Chekov nods again.

"It is. But they are proud of me: traveling among the stars was always my dream."

[imaginate]

He brightens, eyes mischievous, ready for adventure. He was a soldier and he'd been alone, but even he remembered the first time he was out there, with nothing between him and stars.

'Yeah? One of those five year missions your captain keeps going on about?'