nexus_sages | (no subject)

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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.]

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*That gets a raised brow, and an unimpressed expression. Her disapproval isn't directed at Jim, but at the mindset he's just described.*

You're serious? Your colonies don't have basic emergency supplies? Whose teeth do I need to slap down their throat to make that happen, that's pure idiocy.

"Or just not enough, anyway." He's glad it's not his turn anymore, because he is kicking himself about even suggesting they talk about this. But Jim is a stubborn son of a bitch, so he keeps going, as steady as he can. "There's this famous case from several years back. Agricultural colony got hit with a fungus, wiped out all the crops. There was food, but not enough for everyone before relief ships could get there. Half the colonists were killed to... make the math work."

He takes a moment to make sure his voice doesn't shake, that his grip on the cue stick isn't as white-knuckled as it feels. "People still talk about it, but all of it's about debating if killing four thousand people was justified instead of the part where it never should've been an option." Of all the things that came out of Tarsus IV, that's the part that sickens him the most.

*Samus nods grimly, her expression set in a frown as she steps up to the table, circling it at a stalk.*

Cold equations. I can understand the necessity, but they should be behind dozens of tiers of fallback options. The kind of option that doesn't get considered until you're deep in a siege. In the situation you've described, killing anyone is a mark of woeful incompetence and complete failure to prepare. If whoever ordered it wasn't first to die, I'd start examining the situation to see if other motives came into play.

*She leans down, striking quick and hard to send the cue ball ricocheting around the table. She sinks a ball, circling as the cue trundles on, and takes her next shot the very instant it stops (arguably, perhaps a little before), sinking another (along with one of Jim's), and a third time--this time, nothing sinks, but she's put her last ball where the starship captain should find it least convenient.*

Could the shortage have been deliberate?

He's not really paying attention to the game, so he doesn't say anything about the potential foul in play, especially once she asks that question. The one he's wondered for years, and still has no answer for. "Maybe. There was... He made a list. Of people. Those he called less valued." It's been thirteen years and he's still never forgotten the speech Kodos gave, explaining with brutal conciseness that he'd ordered their execution.

Mm. A list of expendables.

*Her eyes narrow slightly.*

The plot thins. What did these expendables have in common? I'm assuming that the list wasn't "people who can't in any way contribute to getting an agricultural colony running again," since there's always use for more hands on a farm?

Expendables. What a cold, calculating term to apply to four thousand people. But it's no doubt what Kodos thought of them.

He shakes his head in response to her question, trying to find the words. "Eugenics. The old, the sick, the... 'inferior.'" He can't quite help giving that word a bitter twist, despising what it means. "Most of the kids. Nonhumans."

Children?

*That sharp crack? Nothing worth worrying about, just give her a moment to get a fresh cue.*

How far away was this place, in terms of time, from resupply? And does your Facet have faster-than-light communication?

It's probably a testament to how much he's managed to numb himself to this conversation that he doesn't even flinch at the sound of her breaking the cue. He might not even notice, avoiding making eye contact entirely. Pretending this all happened to someone else.

"We do. Wasn't as widespread back then though, outside the 'fleet. The colony was supposed to be self-sufficient, so ships would only stop by every four months. Didn't have another one due for three. Would've been all of four or five days' travel from Earth, if somebody had known."

Three months. On a planet. With thousands of able people and, presumably, the technology to support them. And on that entire planet, there wasn't three months' worth of food?

*She shakes her head.*

That sounds like a deliberate problem, to me. Where is this administrator now?

"Escaped. Maybe dead or just in hiding. No one knows."

Jim had sometimes wondered if Kodos deliberately engineered the situation to his advantage, to play out whatever sick power fantasies the man had over an effectively captive population, but to hear someone else say it... well, it's certainly something else.

Hmm. Price on his head?

*It's one thing to survive abuse, and another to have confirmed for you that it was abuse.*

He looks at her, maybe for the first time since he realized he wasn't going to be able to get out of talking about the topic he accidentally brought up. Right. She's a bounty hunter. "Yes. Preferably alive, so he can stand trial."

I can do live capture.

*She gives a thin, cold smile.*

If you ever want to be absolutely certain of finding him.

He's actually tempted to accept, no further questions asked. But he doesn't. There are few things he dreads as much as the day when Kodos will eventually come to trial, because as one of only nine surviving eyewitnesses, he knows he'll be called to testify. It's the entire reason why he can't admit to anyone that he was there, that he survived the massacre, in case the news reaches the wrong ears and someone comes to silence him.

But the waiting and uncertainty is worse. Way worse.

"You do cross-dimensional work?" he asks instead.

Everyone needs a hobby.

*Her smile is warmer, but she's keeping something back.*

Jim can't really hazard a guess at what she might not be telling him, but at the moment, he's not sure he cares. "If you want to track him down in your spare time, I'm the last guy to stand in your way."

Edited 2017-06-06 03:47 (UTC)

*She accepts that with a nod.*

Thank you. I'm surprised you're not questioning my motives more--or the perils inherent in having me visit your Facet and meddle in your history.

He shrugs a little. "Let's be honest, I probably couldn't stop you if I tried. Not sure how much difference it'd make if I knew why you wanted to, either." If it's just for the money, perfectly understandable. If there's some deeper personal reason, it's not like it's his business unless she wants it to be.

I'm dangerous, not indestructible. Not that I give my enemies any reason to realize that...

*She chuckles quietly to herself, then shakes her head, returning her focus to Jim.*

Why do you think I do what I do? Hunt people, kill people, break planets when I have to?

Jim frowns a little. "You told me why you're going after the people who destroyed your home. Figured most of it was related."

I told you what happened to me. Is that why I do it?

*Her gaze is as level as her voice, inviting Jim to consider the question, and all the information he's been given, fully.*

He does, much to his own surprise. And not just the words, though there have been plenty of those. Actions speak louder, or so they say, and she's done a hell of a lot in the past hour or so since they first met. She turned a simple sparring session to let off some steam into a pointed psychological assault on his oldest source of anger and frustration, refused to let him drown away the revelation, and now she's letting him have some kind of fighting chance at pool. Maybe for fun, maybe for some other reason known only to her.

"Maybe not," he concedes.

*That earns him a slight nod, as of teacher to student.*

Then what is?

He really hopes this isn't some kind of trick question. He hasn't known her nearly long enough to know for certain; all he can do is make the best educated guess he can. "Others either can't or won't do it themselves, and you have the power to change that."

That's... fairly close. If we're being completely honest, I hunt the Space Pirates and people like them because they created me, and no one should have to be me. So I stop them. It's not an entirely healthy mindset, but I make it work.

*She gives another brief smile, this one more of a self-deprecating smirk.*

That said, I won't enter or influence your Facet uninvited. I'm aware I would be a guest, and that means something to me.