nexus_sages | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

James T. Kirk absolutely loves marketplaces.

It's not necessarily because he's looking for anything, per se, although he does often keep an eye out for interesting books to add to his collection, or maybe a bottle of some kind of exotic alcohol, or some kind of pointless alien gizmo with which to annoy Spock with its purposeless existence. No, he just loves the sheer diversity each bazaar brings to the table.

No two markets have ever been alike, in his experience. Sure, it's not quite as exciting and mysterious as exploring deep space, but it's something of a microcosm of the same, all sorts of goods and cultures thrown into close quarters, and one never knows what one might find just down the street.

His shipboard gold uniform may stand out a bit in the crowd as he meanders along, a faint smile on his face as he leans in to examine someone's wares on display, just enjoying being out and about in the fresh air.

[OOC: Retconning Jim eating bacon in this thread. Hadn't fully considered some of the elements in his backstory at the time.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Shade-Seeker nods his agreement, but remains silent on the subject of the tragedy--he spoke truly when he said he lacks the words. Anything he could think to say in the face of such a monumental horror would seem small and hollow. The tale continues, though, so he readily gives his attention to that. "That is a sensible rule, though I imagine its invocation is rarely welcomed by those who need it."

"That seems... poetic," he muses, when the tale is done. "So many beginnings, reflected in the end."

"Yeah," Jim agrees. "Spock took some... convincing, but he eventually saw that it was the right call." It's a far less damning way of saying that Jim goaded him into trying to strangle a subordinate officer to prove he was emotionally unstable.

He nods a little at Shade-Seeker's assessment of the story. "It was a great victory with a horrible cost. A cost we never should've had to pay. But even looking back, I'm not sure I could have done anything differently."

Necessity may be the mother of invention, but diplomacy is a fond uncle.

"There is a small mercy in that, at least. You are not burdened with a sea of might-have-beens," he muses, when the tale is done.

Oh, what a horribly ironic thing to say. Thanks to the mind-meld with the future version of Spock, Jim knows exactly what might-have-been if Nero hadn't been around to ruin billions of lives. But that's a whole different can of worms to open, so he just smiles a little and says, "Yeah, small mercy."

"Captain Pike was hurt too badly to retake command, so my field promotion stayed. Most of my crew kept their field ranks too, but because ninety percent of the crew is fresh out of the Academy, Starfleet hasn't made a habit of giving us tough missions yet. It's like one really long shakedown cruise."

Shade-Seeker doesn't know how he's just put his foot in it, but he can sense he's misspoken and his demeanor is contrite.

"It may not be relative inexperience alone that leads your commanders to withhold you from the fray," he suggests. "You are the remnant of a lost generation, precious and few. Is it not so?"

Jim certainly doesn't hold it against him. Everyone has their emotional landmines, and with the exception of telepaths, no one can know when they might be prodding an old wound. And he gives Shade-Seeker a somewhat grateful look for not prying deeper, his tact appreciated.

"That might be part of it," he agrees, nodding slightly. "Something like eighty-five percent of the Academy was wiped out. Not just the cadets, either, but a good chunk of the instructors, too. Those of who survived had to grow the hell up in a hurry, and I'm proud of everyone who rose to the challenge, but some of them are still just kids. Hell, my primary navigator only just turned eighteen last month."

If there's one thing the lizard-wizard knows, it's tact. No, alchemy. But if he knows two things, the second is empathy-born tact. (Like, intellectual empathy, not Betazed-born powers. The multiverse gets complicated, sometimes.)

"Indeed? My congratulations to him." A birthday is a much-needed bright spot, after all that talk of death. "Even the wisest child is still young," he admits, on that other subject. "Even those who by nature are serious will feel the occasional healthy urge for youthful mischief, eh?"

Jim doesn't tend to associate his own birthdays with happiness, but it's not the same when it comes to other people, so it is indeed an appreciated bit of better news. "No argument there," he concurs, a slight smile on his lips. "A lot of it comes out as friendly insults, you know? I don't think an older, more seasoned crew would get away with half the shit my crew says to each other without getting disciplined. But it works for us, and I haven't had to tell anybody to rein it in yet."

"Mm. I am reminded of an axiom that I read not so long ago: that which is absurd, but works, is not absurd."

Jim shrugs, his smile growing slightly wider. "Add 'as long as the admirals aren't watching' and I'll agree a hundred percent."

Edited 2017-05-23 04:44 (UTC)

Shade-Seeker chuckles at that. "Duly noted. We all must be mindful of our audience."

"Who do you have to watch out for?" he asks curiously. It makes sense to him that the head of a guild would be concerned about their reputation among those beneath him, but being a leader rarely means you only have to worry about your own followers.

"Others in the guild, of course, but also I have been helping Martin--the lost heir--where I could, and after this crisis is resolved I hope to speak with him about certain matters in the Empire which need to be resolved. My aspirations will anger some with conflicting agendas, and others who maintain their power by being the door-keepers to greater power, and it would be simple strategy to seize upon any faults of mine to limit my influence."

Jim nods a little. "Sounds familiar. Does Tamriel have any kind of widespread news service?" Given their level of technology, he feels fairly confident they won't have a subspace digital network, but the news was in wide circulation long before the invention of that technology back on Earth. Paper publications and so forth.

"The Black Courier," he answers, "a newsletter published with some regularity." Yeah, Jim, there's no digital network, no Internet, not even a magic telegraph. These people are oooooold tech.

That's about what he expected. "So it'd be entirely possible for someone to run a smear campaign against you without having to rely on word-of-mouth."

"Entirely," he confirms.

Jim makes a sympathetic face. "Hope you have better luck with your news service than I have. It's not even all bad, but there's no shortage of people who want to whine about my age and inexperience, never mind when they found out I skipped some formalized schooling."

"What is your critics' goal?" Shade-Seeker asks. "What do they champion that you oppose, or vice versa?"

"There are some people who feel I didn't earn my post. I'm Starfleet's youngest captain ever, fresh out of the Academy, and I've already got a reputation for not exactly doing things by the book. They'd rather see a more experienced officer in the center seat just because they'd be older and supposedly wiser."

Shade-Seeker nods thoughtfully, mulling the situation over for a long moment. "Then your needs are twofold," he concludes. "First, to demonstrate that the gaps in your education and experience do not parallel an inability to apply correct procedures, and second to demonstrate that your youth and, hm, bold manner are assets rather than obstacles. Yes?"

"Exactly," he agrees pretty much immediately. "I didn't completely skip out on education after I left school; I taught myself and traveled a lot. Starfleet Academy wouldn't have taken me if I couldn't pass the entrance exams, and I wouldn't have passed three years of classes either, but some people just see the years of nothing on my transcript and assume it means I'm a washout."

"I've only had a year to start proving my promotion was not a fluke or a mistake, and I really don't know how long it's gonna take." He certainly doesn't sound defeated, though. Giving up is not in his vocabulary. And if the news want to badmouth him behind his back, fuck 'em.

"Then I wish you good fortune. I suspect the opportunities you need will come with time."

"Thanks. Here's hoping you don't have to deal with anything like it either."

"Thank you, the hope is most kind."