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

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.

He's hardly in any kind of position to judge anyone for their coping mechanisms, so Jim just nods slowly, considering what she's said.

Some cultures in his universe's Federation value guests in all kinds of ways, so he doesn't make any assumptions on what that means. "Are there, uh, hospitality rules where you're from?"

Hey, if nothing else, it's a welcome break from talking about Tarsus IV directly.

The Chozo have some opinions on the subject, yes. Someone who enters your home uninvited, destroying and rearranging the contents at their whim and according to their sensibilities, is more rightly considered an intruder. I imagine your people would share that opinion, at the least.

"Yeah, that one's almost universal." Somehow he manages a smile.

Multiversal.

*She smirks.*

So. I probably could physically batter past you, force my way into your Facet, and start righting whatever I saw as wrongs, but I won't. I'll offer no more help than you ask for and I think you're worth. It might be as little as a few words of advice here in the Nexus, it might be pulling together a multiversal setup for performing open-heart surgery on a star.

*She catches herself, then continues in the tone of an admission.*

GalFed doesn't know about that one, and I'd rather keep it that way. Probably better not to mention it to your commanders, either, hmm?

Open-heart surgery on a star? Jim shakes his head a little. "I'm not telling them a lot of what's happened here. I'd sound crazy anyway and they wouldn't believe me."

Thank you.

*That was a fun mission, splicing PINpoint tech into an ancient, enormous stargate in order to open a portal inside the aging, dimming sun of Athas, bleeding out some of the helium and injecting fresh hydrogen, carefully balancing the whole affair so the star's core wouldn't lose its gravitational grip on the surface and pop like a plasma balloon.*

So. Boundaries. How much help do you want catching this guy?

Jim assumes she means in terms of what she's allowed to do, rather than how much money somebody will pony up to get Kodos in Federation custody. "Honestly? I don't know if anyone else is even trying to find him anymore. And I have to answer to Starfleet, so I can't do more than keep an ear to the ground, without a solid lead anyway. But I want to see him answer for what he did." He's sure he hasn't been as subtle as he'd wanted, that she's probably figured out he's been affected by the whole thing, even if he hasn't given any details. But there's not much he can do about that either.

*She nods thoughtfully. If she's noticed how deeply Jim is affected, she at least has the good grace not to drag it out into the light. Perhaps she thinks he's had enough of that kind of therapy for the time being.*

So do you want a solid lead, or do you want me to drag him back by the collar?

Whatever her reason for not mentioning it, he's grateful anyway. "Dragging is okay with me. I'd hate for a trail to go cold before the Enterprise could get there."

*She nods.*

Dragging it is. I'll need to know when and where the famine happened, I can pick up the trail there.

Even through the awful feelings this has dragged up for Jim, it strikes him as weirdly surreal. He's never had anyone want to go after that madman, especially not one that has the kind of reputation she apparently does. "Tarsus IV. 2246. The man responsible is Kodos the Executioner."

*She plucks a small, rectangular patch from her hip--it looks like a padd or a smartphone, but flexible and made to be concealed on that blue garment of hers. She prods and taps it a few times, making notes.*

Tarsus IV, 2246. Kodos the Executioner. I'll also need your Facet's PINpoint coordinates--which, if you don't have, I can get for myself if you bring me to visit.

"I don't have them yet. But I can probably arrange a visit once Enterprise is in port." He doesn't even know how he would begin to explain her sudden appearance onboard out in the middle of deep space.

*That would be a difficult conversation, to be sure. And one that would almost doubtless end up in a flagged report headed for high command.*

Give me a call when you can set it up, then, and I'll get started.

"Will do." Of course, he doesn't have her frequency as of yet, but he did pick up a PINpoint after another Nexus citizen suggested it, so he's able to hand it over to her for her to put in her contact info.

And in doing so, he remembers that oh yeah, they had been playing pool. "...whose turn is it, anyway?"

Yours.

*The answer comes automatically, easily, as she takes his PINpoint and sets up contact information for them both. She may also be taking a moment to check on which safeties are enabled in Kirk's model.*

His design of choice is fairly basic, more of an attachment made to be plugged in to a Starfleet-issue communicator, providing mostly just the necessities to start with. He hasn't done much yet to customize it either, as he hasn't had the time.

Jim finishes off the rest of his drink and steps up to try to get his bearings at the pool table again, taking note of which balls remain, as well as how many. Good thing they aren't playing for money, or he'd probably already be toast.

*It's a reasonable design, and she approves. She's just making certain he can't accidentally attach a portal to the wrong frame of reference and have it not be stationary relative to the ship or planet he's on, gouging out a portal-shaped hole as the object in question moves at thousands of miles per second relative to some cosmic stillpoint. That's exceedingly embarrassing when it isn't done intentionally (and Samus would prefer more people didn't get the idea for a cosmic-stillpoint-PINpoint-supercannon). When she's satisfied that his settings are as safe as a transdimensional aperture lens can ever be, she sets it down on the edge of the table, where Jim can collect it when he's done with his shot.*

Less balls on the table means less obstacles, but it also means less options to choose from, and the cue ball isn't in a great spot for him to take advantage. But there is one move he can make to gum up the works. Carefully lining up his shot, he puts just enough of an angle on the strike that his target solid clips the eight ball and knocks it in front of one of her remaining stripes, so she might risk knocking it into the pocket along with her own. His solid doesn't go in, but it's positioned well enough that he's sure he can fix that on his next turn.

Straightening up, he takes possession of his newest little gadget. "How long have you been doing this, anyway?" He means the Nexus, but she's welcome to interpret that as meaning bounty hunting if she'd like. Or pool.

I've been training as a Warrior since I was eight, I started Hunting when I was seventeen, and I've been in and out of the Nexus for eleven or twelve years--the time travel makes it a little hard to be exact.

*She circles the table, raising a brow at Jim's efforts. She'll admit, she's impressed. He's bought himself at least a round while she gets herself out of this mess. It will be delicate, but she finds an angle and shoots, ricocheting the cue ball around the table to come at her ball from an angle where it shouldn't strike the eight ball. She won't sink anything, but at least she's not stuck behind the eight ball anymore.*

You?

Buying time is one thing that Kirks do best, not that Jim would ever put it in those words, for obvious reasons. He lines up a shot on the solid he didn't sink earlier, and it sails smoothly into the pocket, damn near followed by the cue ball from the amount of force he put into it.

"I had a kind of... gap in real school after I was twelve," he admits, looking over the table to decide on his next move. "I basically roamed around doing odd jobs from fourteen to twenty-two. Did some time as a deckhand on a cargo cruiser, waited tables, did exotic dancing, spent a season helping out on a ranch in Australia. Ended up in jail a couple times, mostly for stupid reasons. Got recruited into Starfleet four years ago, graduated last year." She already knows he's on day one here in the Nexus, so he doesn't bother to tell her again.

You ran away from home?

*She's hazarding a guess, but it fits what he told her.*

It sounds like a varied life.

"Kind of." He hadn't really thought of it as running away so much as seeking opportunity, but it's all semantics. And he was underage at the time. "It was either leave, or stay stuck in bumfuck nowhere for the rest of my life. It's not like my mom cared enough to ask me to come back."

He hits another one of his solids into a pocket, and this time the cue ball does follow it in.

*She can't comment on parental affections, and doesn't. Whether her wince is for the familial strife or his misstep in the game is anyone's guess.*

I believe that's a scratch?