[closed]

[dow]

Characters: Spock & Jim Kirk
Date: 26/10/13
Location: Around and about, later Jim's pad.
Situation: Spock arrives!
Warning/Rating: N/A

[ This isn't Khitomer, it isn't Parthenon 559 where he last went planetside (which would make marginally more sense) and there's no point even beginning to twist facts to suit theories that the Klingons have had something to do with the kedan influence wherever-this-is, so all in all Spock is immensely frustrated by his arrival without so much as a tricorder to determine the smallest sliver of truth on his own terms. The last thing he remembers is the sight of Jim at the feet of Commander Kor, beaten and unconscious on the Klingon vessel.

To say he's more than a little concerned as he traverses the streets in a bid to uproot information would be the understatement of the 23rd century. ]

Comments

[jirk]

[Jim hates the idea that he's been here long enough to be familiar with this place. Passingly? Yeah, whatever. Big deal. But to the point where he knows, through tedium alone, that there are exactly seven hundred and ninety-three paving stones in this block of street? Yeah. No one should ever know a stretch of road that intimately.

(He spent a lot of time here after his leg was broken and he was hobbling around in Soranik's cast, okay? He used a goddamned cane. His ego didn't like that one iota.)

When it's all said and done, he doesn't do bored well. It doesn't agree with him. Makes him dangerous and reckless and angry at everything, and sometimes he half-feels like he's going to look out a window and see Iowa all over again, and everything that happened-- his ship, his crew, his family, will have just been the result of some screwed up hungover haze. Every day is one he has to remind himself exactly what the Enterprise looks like, what she was built to withstand. And though he'd never admit it, every day he's here it gets a little harder to do.

So he starts work on his dissertation again, put on hold after his captaincy. He's got over three hundred long-hand sheets scattered around his apartment now, the writing so cramped he sometimes has to add extra thoughts in the margins.

But at least it's something to do. He's sitting at one of the outdoor tables at a cafe near his suite, one leg stretched out in front of him, chewing absently on the end of his pen as he considers what else to include. He's come at this from every possible angle now, explaining why captains have just as much reason - more - to know the full and complete capabilities of any ship they command than anyone that serves under them. So that if you're ever alone, you can do the impossible.

I don't believe in no win scenarios.

He closes his eyes briefly, letting his pen tap against his notebook, and then he sighs, gathers everything up and stands. All in a day's work, right? Well, whatever, he's got other things he can be doing. Late shift at Bryn's bar or lap number seven hundred and ninety-four around turtletopia or something.

He stuffs everything into a bag and slings it over his shoulder and through the crowd, sees Spock. Jim stares.

And then there's a sudden flurry of motion as he dumps everything back on the table and sprints after him. There is no mistaking that goofy haircut or the pointy ears that go along with it, even if part of him acknowledges that the kedan are shapeshifters and could look however they wanted and it might not be him at all but it's totally him. He knows it, it's instinct. Come on. How could he not?

Jim knows better than to tackle him outright but he definitely skids to a halt rather further into his personal space than Spock is probably comfortable with and claps his hands to Spock's shoulders.]

Spock! You're here!

[He's stating the obvious and he doesn't even care. Oh my god, best day ever or best day ever?]

[dow]

[ There's every chance that unfinished dissertation will be wrangled away from Jim to be pored over later. It's one of the things Spock has always wondered if his captain will bother to complete, the instructor in him wanting to point out that even though the amount of missions they go through is reason enough to forget about it, it's still an important chapter of Jim's life that ought to be rounded-off (and he's nosy and wants to see how Jim ends it, but that's neither here nor there). He hears the thump of the bag dropping and briefly glances around, frozen to the spot when he does a double-take to see a familiar blond head sprinting over, weaving through the crowd. ]

— Jim.

[ It isn't a That much is obvious, Captain by far, stifled by astonishment and relief that infuses one word with far beyond what ought to be appropriate for a Vulcan, except Spock could strangle him all over again because he told him it was a bad idea to go planetside and he's been worried sick ever since comms went down. A hand raises as if to fend Jim off when his own shoulders are clapped in that companionable way he'd nerve-pinch anyone else for assuming the right to do, instead resting somewhere against ribs to steady the forward motion and ensure no one goes toppling over. You can never be too careful with this man, he's enough to wear down even the most stoic Vulcan into actively touching him back.

His chin tilts and he looks Jim over, eyes sweeping back up in confusion as his brows narrow and Spock hauls together some semblance of usefulness. ]

You are uninjured?

[ The question flicks up at the tail-end, as much a I had cause to worry before arriving as This doesn't make sense all wrapped up in its delivery. Usefulness, on second thought, might have to wait a moment more. ]

[jirk]

[It's not the same, anguished look he got before. The last time Spock was here, he'd been from the fight with Khan, green blood blooming into bruises just beneath his skin. Honestly, Jim didn't think he could do that conversation twice. He still carries the memories of the mindmeld, the pressure of Spock's fingers on his face, the hell and horror of all those deaths, and the grief he barely understood the depth of, at the end. Jim just looks at him a moment, searchingly. His grip tightens incrementally on Spock's shoulders, and he lets him go.

No memories. But still him. He releases a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding, because of course Spock would ask that question. It's the what sort of trouble have you been up to? query, although there are other elements to it that he recognizes. He was probably doing something dumb and perilous back home.]

No injuries.

[That's said very firmly, half assurance and half promise. Once upon a time, he might have joked about it, or told Spock to leave it alone out of sheer, henpecked annoyance, but not now.]

What about you, are you okay? What happened, how's our ship? Still good?

[Spock called him Jim. That means after Khan. Jim swallows, a visible effort.]

And my crew?

[dow]

[ The only thing he can deduce is that Jim's memories have been altered or stymied, unwilling to theorize without more facts. Spock doesn't mince his reply because in all honesty it is a serious situation from which they were both (to his knowledge) extracted. ]

I am fine. [ Fine has variable definitions. It serves for now. ] The Enterprise was surrounded and attacked by the Klingon contingent outside Khitomer, shields were at sixty-four percent when last I checked. The crew is concerned for you, Captain, given that you were taken hostage by Commander Kor while planetside.

[ 'Concerned'. More like the entire bridge came immediately to attention the second they saw that shred of golden tunic on the viewscreen. ]

Am I correct in assuming you have no recollection of these events?

[jirk]

[-- That is. Not even remotely what he was expecting to hear. Jim rears back, head cocked, expression quizzically set. They've all come from various points in the timeline - Jim's actually the odd man out in that respect, he's from the earliest one here - but that?

God, something clenches in his stomach at the thought he's lead everyone into danger again. He doesn't even try to deny it, just swallows down the anger it elicits. Definitely something stupid. Probably something reckless. He draws in a breath, holds it. Lets it out. He tries to focus on the positive, instead. For example, Spock didn't say anyone's dead. And sixty-four percent is still enough to keep his people safe. He tries to trust in his own-- future or alternate or whatever's judgement, but after watching how everything went down with Marcus, it's damned hard to put that kind of faith in himself and his choices.

Oh, he's heard it all. He didn't know about Marcus, didn't have a choice with Khan. But he still thinks he could have - and should have done better. And seriously, taken hostage by a Klingon? That just screams bad judgement call.

He shakes his head. Focus.]

It's pretty common, here. People get brought from a bunch of different points in the timeline. I'm from just after we beat the Gorn, that whole... Helios incident.

[... And it occurs to him, then, that they're still standing in the middle of the street indulging in this heart-to-heart, so he coughs, claps Spock on the shoulder one final time.]

Let's go somewhere a little less-- here. Ish. Car's around the corner.

[dow]

[ Arching a brow in agreement, he follows wherever Jim sees fit to lead. The incident with the Helios Device has him shooting Jim a look that doesn't budge in concern, lowering his voice so as not to be overheard by other pedestrians. ]

We have since crossed paths with a small coterie of the Gorn for a second time. They were surprisingly peaceable and you saved them from extinction by placing their new homeworld under Federation quarantine. [ How's that for weird news. Let it sink in, Jim, he's got a dozen more, testing the waters. ] Has every individual in this city been displaced from their personal space-time?

[jirk]

[And people say he can't be diplomatic. He's not... surprised, exactly, he knows he's not cut out for revenge, but it's still weird to hear. Peaceable Gorn? In what universe? He scoops his bag up off the table where he'd left it, tosses a couple juulan down to cover the cost of his breakfast, and carries on without breaking stride. His 'car', as it were, is the 1965 Chevy Stingray that he drove off a cliff once upon a time, and when he gets to it he slings the bag into the back and hops over the driver's door rather than open it.]

Yeah. Even the kedan, actually. They've just been trapped here for a few hundred years, but they're not native to this planet anymore than we are.

[dow]

[ Spock stands beside the Stingray in honest surprise (wheels, really?) before getting into the passenger seat, fascinated by the fact there are pedals on Jim's side that will control the car. It's an admirable antique and he files away his interest away for later to dissect just how it came into Jim's possession, more pressing matters stealing his attention in the present. If he knew there were different universes at work instead of rote system-wide kidnappings ala Orion trader-style, he'd have more to add. ]

The Klingons are not in residence?

[jirk]

[Jim taps his fingers on the steering wheel as he depresses the clutch and kicks the engine into first. He's been working on it since it got here, so the low rumble of power in its engine is unmistakable. As weird as it is to have his Dad's car here, it's been a good project. One of the things he's been using to keep his sanity (more or less) intact in the onset of terminal boredom.]

Haven't seen a one. Mostly it's been humans, I think. Couple dragons. You should talk to-- [Kyle. The ring could show Spock all kinds of things, but there's a tiny flare of jealousy there. Spock and Kyle got along so well last time and part of him'd been downright indignant. It took over a year just to get the Vulcan to call him Jim.] -- a friend of mine, he's got a magical space ring that keeps track of species' and stuff. [very scientific, Jim.] The long of the short of it is we're in some sort of... transdimensional melting pot. A lot of the people here who're human or claim to be from Earth have never even heard of the Eugenics War, for starters.

[dow]

[ Dragons. A magical ring. Spock frowns as he takes note of everything Jim says, no matter how ludicrous. He trusts Jim more than most. ]

A transdimensional "melting pot" indicates that detainees have been abducted from various universes, therefore we cannot be inside a pocket dimension. Such would indicate an adjoining link solely to ours and not those where — [ he barely pauses, tone thinning sceptically ] — magic is considered authentic and the Terran myths are proved a reality.

[ He's going to science the heck out of this place, make no mistake. ]

Captain, even the possibility of our own multiverse with my counterpart does not account for a nexus that accesses every layer of others. M-theory does not support such a wide range of variables. [ In other words, he's got nothing but a proverbial shrug. ] And yet, you own a vehicle that could not be accessed without a direct link to Earth.

[ Too many contradictions, none of which match up. Don't mind Spock as he thinks aloud, turning his head to face Jim as he reaches a conclusion. ]

If you have a communicator I believe it would be prudent to focus on sending a distress call by way of subspace relay through any spatial fractures. [ There are no no-win situations, he's learned. ] The possibility of finding one under these conditions is not impossible.

[jirk]

[Yeah, no. Science. There is a reason he leaves it to Spock. It's not that Jim's ignorant in the area, it's just that it's definitely not his forte. He gives Spock a sideways glance, and one corner of his mouth quirks up.]

Christ, I missed having you around.

[It's an honest, earnest statement, and he laughs, a little incredulous. It seems a little juvenile to yell Spock's back! from the rooftops but that's honestly what he feels like doing. Seeing members of his crew always puts him in the best mood, even if he doesn't exactly like them being trapped here with him. Hopefully it'll take some of the pressure off Chekov, too. Poor kid's been wracking his brain trying to get them home. Doing his best, but he needs a breather, and maybe Spock can provide it.]

Already handled the communicator thing, though. It's how I tend to link up with the others. Uh-- speaking of others. Bones and Chekov are here too.

[His mouth thins.]

And Khan. He's from before that whole mess with Marcus, so he's pretty ignorant. I'd like to keep him that way if we can.