nexus_crossings | Family Matters

Family Matters

There's a starship captain in the Plaza, sitting at an outdoor cafe style table which bears a half-consumed cup of coffee and a glowing, transparent datapad. Jim Kirk is not in uniform, clad in well-worn civilian clothes, though given that his shirt says PROPERTY OF STARFLEET ACADEMY in faded text, he's probably not trying to be covert. He's fairly focused on the datapad, and one might assume that he's catching up on reports or requisition forms during his off-hours if not for the quietly contemplative look on his face.

And, of course, the fact that he's chosen to take a break here rather than anywhere near Starfleet property.

His thoughts don't remain a mystery for long, as this does tend to be the place to go for advice, no matter how small the matter. "How's your relationship with your family? Have you ever tried to reconnect after spending years apart?"

There's an empty chair on the other side of the table. Feel free to have a seat, if you'd like.

[OOC: Tags don't seem to work, but dupes are okay!]

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"I wish I could say we don't." It doesn't seem to matter whether humanity is more enlightened or advanced technologically, conflict is unfortunately still around. "The Federation isn't in any active wars right now, but we do have enemies."

Conflict seems to be a universal throughout the multiverse. Even in the Nexus -- especially in the Nexus. It frustrates her to no end. "What are the Federation's enemies like?"

"There's two big ones for the most part, the Romulans and the Klingons. We've got treaties with both to establish a Neutral Zone between their territory and ours, and in theory, we each stay on our own side of the border." In practice, not so much, naturally.

"They're both societies that do the whole... warrior honor code thing, though they're pretty different. The Klingons treat combat and conflict like it's some kind of religious experience - really ritualized, lots of emphasis on glory in battle, that sort of thing. The Romulans tend to be more diplomatic and politicized, and there's a lot more to do about loyalty and family honor than personal acclaim."

Edited 2017-07-16 00:04 (UTC)

She listens, fascinated. She's never met an alien in her universe, and Jim's world is full of them. "So... is that the source of the conflict? Did they once try to expand into Federation territory? What do they look like?" She blushes a little. "Sorry, I hope that's not an inappropriate question. I've never met an alien outside of the Nexus... in fact, I've had a few people call me an alien, because I'm from a planet other than Earth. I'm human, though. So far as I know."

He smiles a little, not disapproving of her curiosity. "It's all right. It's not like you're asking for 'fleet secrets or anything." And encouraging asking questions is something he's trying to cultivate in his own students at the moment, so he can hardly turn down the practice anyway.

"Klingons are humanoid but generally a little bigger than humans, with sharper teeth, and ridges on their foreheads, like this," he says, using his finger to trace a line from the bridge of his nose to the crown of his head, indicating how far the ridges go. "Romulans have pointed ears and green blood, but other than that, they're pretty much identical to humans on first glance. They're actually an ancient splinter faction from humanity's oldest allies, the Vulcans, so it can be hard to tell them apart."

She condensed her own people's war down enough for an outsider to understand, so he tries to do the same here. "We didn't encounter them at the same time, but territory's a big part of it, yeah. The Romulans were already conquering an empire, so explorers from Earth were seen as rivals vying for the same space. The Klingons were kind of doing the same thing, but they didn't care so much about the territory as they did trying to prove their, ah, might was superior to ours."

Edited 2017-07-16 01:33 (UTC)

She's surprised (and maybe a tiny bit disappointed) that Klingons and Romulans sound so similar in appearance to humans. "Green blood?" she repeats curiously. "Do you know the physiology behind that? And what are Vulcans like?"

His reader's digest version of the situation is sufficient, and she nods soberly. "How long has it been since there was a war?"

"Yeah, their blood is copper-based, instead of iron, like with humans." He figures he shouldn't have to explain that too much further, for someone with a medical background. "Vulcans value logic over emotion to the point where most people think they're stoic and arrogant, but they're one of the more accepting and understanding cultures we've met. They have this philosophy called Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations and it pretty much applies to everything." He debates whether or not to mention another quirk of Vulcan physiology, and figures it can never hurt to be prepared. "They're also touch-telepaths, so physical contact is never casual. Romulans aren't, but I don't know why. Maybe it's a discipline thing."

History's not one of Jim's stronger points, but the history of interstellar conflicts is one area where he paid close attention at the Academy. After all, it wouldn't do to be a captain and not know what's shaped your government's relationships with others. "The last official war between us and the Romulans ended in 2160, so it's been ninety-nine years. We've never declared war on the Klingons, it's more of a cold war kinda thing, even today. A lot of posturing and some skirmishes, but no coordinated military assaults."

"Fascinating," she says softly, and completely without irony. "Copper-based blood would entail a completely different protein for oxygen transport..." She nearly misses the rest of his explanation, although she finds that equally interesting. "What do they think about humans, then? We must seem all over the place compared to them..."

Ninety-nine years isn't so bad, but it sounds like it's not long enough to keep people from being nervous. "The colonies had a cold war of their own," she comments. "But after finding a common enemy, a lot of colonial rivalry has fallen by the wayside... I wouldn't recommend it as a solution, though."

"Oh yeah," he agrees, nodding. "We're young, impulsive, emotional, all that stuff. There are some pretty big cultural gaps between us, and some Vulcans think we're a little on the barbaric side. My first officer's a Vulcan, though, and we get along pretty well. He's the voice of reason on the bridge when I'm about to do something stupid." Jim doesn't think it's relevant to mention that Spock's genetically only half Vulcan. His friend and first officer is as culturally Vulcan as they come, after all, and that's what she's asking about.

He listens to her remark, agreeing with her conclusion. "I wouldn't prefer that either. The enemy of my enemy isn't always my friend, and once that common conflict is gone, any problems between you hasn't been solved, just put aside."

His initial description of a human through Vulcan eyes makes her laugh in spite of herself. "It must be so weird for them to see us cry or lose our temper." She tilts her head thoughtfully at the mention of his first officer. "I wonder... the other Jim I know says that his first officer knows about this place. You might run into him here. Do Vulcans ever look surprised? Or do they keep that emotion under wraps, too?"

It's an apt way to put it, and she nods thoughtfully. "I'm hoping that won't be the case for us. That when this war is finally over, it won't matter as much which colony you were born on."

It's good to have a lighter kind of topic to talk about, after the way this conversation initially started. "Sure, it's just a lot subtler than it is with us openly emotional humans," he answers. "Maybe it's just Spock, but I've spent enough time around him that I can usually get a pretty good read on him."

"I've already met a couple Spocks already," he muses, wondering how much different the other Jim's first officer might be. "Mine knows about this place too. This could get confusing really fast."

Jim listens to her analysis of her situation, and though he doesn't know the details, he can still hope for her to be right. "How many colonies were there?"

She thinks about people that she has known who are on the stoic side. Her sleeper agent friend comes to mind immediately but she hastily pushes him out of her thoughts. No need to go back down that conversational path. "That's usually how it goes. Do you have other aliens in the Federation? Or just Vulcans?"

"You're telling me," she says with a sheepish laugh. "But like you said, you know your first officer very well. It should help you identify him from the other ones."

"Twelve," she answers automatically. Her expression brightens. "There's a thirteenth colony called Earth that for the longest time we thought was only a myth. But we have proof now that it exists, and we're headed there."

"The Federation has hundreds of species over thousands of worlds," Jim says, and despite himself, he's a little proud of what his people have accomplished in the few short centuries they've been part of the galactic community. "Vulcans made first contact with us, and they founded the Federation with humans, the Andorians, and the Tellarites. We've met a lot more allies since then, and we're still spreading out."

He isn't quite as certain as she that he'll be able to tell his Spocks apart, but there's little point in worrying about it until it's relevant.

Twelve colonies isn't much, by his reckoning, but it's more than humans have in most of the universes he's encountered here. The name of the thirteenth, however, gets a surprised look from him. "Earth is - was - a myth where you're from?"

Hundreds! The number leaves her a little stunned, but in a good way. Jim's universe is full of so much life... "What are they like? The Andorians and the Tellarites, I mean. Are any of your alien allies, um... non-humanoid?" It would be kind of a weird coincidence otherwise.

She nods, a little pleased at his interest. "Yes. The history of humanity is that originally all twelve tribes lived on a planet called Kobol. There was some sort of cataclysmic event, and the tribes dispersed. But one tribe -- the thirteenth tribe -- left before anyone else and founded a colony called Earth. This was all in the Sacred Scrolls, which is a religious text, so naturally people didn't know if this was fact or merely an allegory." She smiles wryly. "You can imagine how shocked I was when I first came here and started meeting so many people from Earth."

Even now, the thought of Earth brings out a nearly child-like look of wonder on her face. "But now we have proof. Real proof! The thirteenth tribe is out there and we aren't alone."

Her interest doesn't surprise him, and he's more than content to help sate her curiosity. "Some of them aren't humanoid, but a lot of them are. The Horta are probably the most alien race we've met so far - they're silicon-based, basically living rock slugs the size of a small pony." He isn't sure she knows what a pony is, so he uses his hand to indicate a height of a few feet off the ground as a visual aid. "The Andorians are fairly humanlike except for blue skin, antennae, and four sexes. The Tellarites aren't entirely humanoid... more like bipedal pigs, I guess. And they love arguing. It's like their national sport or something."

In turn, he's fascinated by her own history, especially the Earth part of it. "That's great. Religious texts aren't usually completely literal, but there's usually at least some truth to them. What kind of proof did you find?"

She knows what a pony is, yes. "A silicon-based rock slug... how do you know that it's sentient? How does it communicate?" She's mentally itching for a pen and paper to write down all these fascinating alien facts. Antennae! Four sexes! Arguing pigs! The last description actually makes her giggle. "They can't argue that much or they wouldn't have helped found the Federation, I'm assuming. All the same, I think I'd rather spend time with a Horta. I hate arguing."

"The Sacred Scrolls are over two thousand years old, so obviously some things got lost in the translation. But in it is a description of the Eye of Jupiter, which we found in the Temple of Five on a planet orbiting a dying star. It turns out it's a beacon, full of navigational information that is pointing us towards Earth."

"Long story short, a Vulcan scientist managed to mind meld with one. Before that, people thought they were monsters, or some kind of really weird animal. They mostly keep to themselves, but the ones that don't use telepathic translator devices that the Vulcans invented ages ago. And they can write, sort of." He gives her a wry grin. "They can produce a really strong acid that eats through rock, so as long as you're someplace that doesn't mind corroding the floors, they can write simple messages with it."

Two thousand years is a respectably long time. No wonder Earth was nothing more than a legend to them. "That sounds rock-solid. Bet that was a surprise."

She can't help but feel bad for the Horta being misinterpreted as monsters or unintelligent animals. "A mind-meld?" She asks. "Is that the touch-telepath power you were telling me about?" What an experience that must have been, to read the thoughts of a creature so difference from yourself... "We couldn't have a Horta on the ship," she says, matching his grin. "But it'd still be neat to meet one."

It is strange how a society with space travel for over two thousand years could forget such vital information, but these things happen. "It was to many people... but not me. After all the Earthlings I met here, I had a feeling we'd find it."

Jim gives an affirmative nod to her question regarding mind melds. "Actually, it's not as impossible as you might think. Command's still hammering out all the regulations, but a lab on Starbase Eleven recently invented a new anti-corrosive polymer that isn't toxic to Horta and sticks pretty great to their undersides, so we might be able to let them serve in Starfleet soon."

The word 'Earthling' is such an archaic term to him that he has to politely stifle a laugh. "I gotta admit, I'm curious... are your Sacred Scrolls actually scrolls, or is that just a symbolic kinda name?"

Their attempt at inclusiveness is admirable. It's impossible for her to imagine a pony-sized rock slug in a Starfleet uniform, but likely they'll make an exception. "Are there are aliens on Earth, too?" she asks curiously. "Any sort of... um, exchange programs?"

She needs some term to distinguish herself from the people of Earth. Just calling herself a human doesn't cut it in the Nexus. "They were originally written on scrolls, although the oldest copies we now have are in book form," she answers. "But the name is symbolic, too. Cycles are important to Colonial religion. 'All of this has happened before and it will happen again.' It's a saying from the Scrolls, and a common theme."

"Earth's sapient population was somewhere around eighty-six percent human, last I checked," Jim responds, after a moment's thought to recall the statistics. "Anyone in the Federation's welcome to visit for any reason, and Starfleet's responsible for most of the non-native student population. There's not really a dedicated exchange student program, but people do sometimes study on other planets if they can't get some kind of specialized training on Earth."

Just plain 'human' doesn't really cut it in Jim's corner of the multiverse either. Sure, it's useful as a catch-all for the species, but the term for Earth-born humans is Terran, where he's from. Still, it's all semantics anyway.

"Cyclical time," he says thoughtfully, considering that. Not something he thinks he can believe in, given the strong role that time travel has played in his own personal history, diverting his destiny in a surprisingly tangible way. "I can think of a few cultures that see time the same way."

"Are people on Earth tolerant of aliens?" Fourteen percent is not an insignificant minority, although it sounds like they're mostly working for Starfleet. She smiles sheepishly. "Sorry if these are silly questions... I read a lot of science fiction as a kid, and I always liked the stories about aliens befriending humans."

When she meets the thirteenth tribe in her universe, they'll let her know what they liked to be called. She's looking forward to it.

"Yes. Or rather, things happening in cycles. I've heard of some similar philosophies, when I've read up on Earth religions." She pauses a moment, then admits, "I wasn't raised religiously, so the idea of fate and things that have happened coming to pass again doesn't sit well with me. I'd rather make my own future."

"Oh sure, for the most part. We've had a couple centuries to get used to being part of a galactic community, and Earth's the capital of the Federation, so there's been aliens on Earth for a while now. There are still xenophobes and bigots, but they're in the minority." He smiles back at her when she apologizes. "Hey, don't worry about it. Curiosity's the only way we learn."

He does wonder, though, why it's never come up between her and the other Jim Kirk before. Maybe it's just that there was never a good opportunity, or maybe they haven't known each other as long as he'd assumed. Or maybe their universes are more different than he thought. In any case, he doesn't mind sharing.

Religion can be a touchy topic, no matter what culture or species you belong to. But there's also insight to be gained into the way people think by learning more about that, so he considers his question carefully before he asks it. "Is that unusual for your people?"

That time frame puts a new perspective on things. That seems like enough time to learn to co-exist with aliens. "It sounds nice." She smiles. "A little like the Nexus."

It does seem strange that Adia wouldn't have already learned all this from the Jim she already knows, but maybe it was never the right time to ask. Or maybe by asking for advice on personal matters, this Jim opens himself up to more questions in general.

"No," she answers, before pausing and amending her answer. "Not for most of us, at least. Only the Gemenese take the Sacred Scrolls literally." Religion is not a touchy subject for her, but she recognizes the need to be nuanced and respectful when discussing it. "It's, uh... a little more varied now. How much people put their faith into gods and fate. But a war will do that."

"Kind of," Jim agrees. It's not precisely the same, of course, but the diversity of species and life experiences is similar, anyway.

He can't speak from personal experience about war and its effect on faith, but he knows a little about individual tragedy influencing the same. Not anything he's willing to talk about - not even here, where Federation witness protection is probably pointless - but he can give a sympathetic ear. "I can imagine. People could get pushed to either extreme."

Family Matters

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