James Tiberius Kirk (
boldygoing) wrote in
nexus_crossings2017-07-13 10:43 am
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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!]
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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If it is, he figures there's no harm done. They can just go their separate ways and she can continue avoiding him... them... whichever. But he kind of hopes it's not an issue, because so far, everyone he's met has had an interesting take on the whole Nexus thing, and he's learned a lot from the people here - not just as tactically useful information, but just knowledge for the sake of knowledge itself.
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"Not at all. Sometimes it's better for everyone if things are left unsaid." Which is exactly why she didn't give all of the details of why she and the other Jim Kirk have so many issues with each other. Those details don't get them anywhere, so why should she share those things with this man? It gets them nowhere, and only leaves her in a more vulnerable place. "And if I ask too much, you can always look me in the eye and tell me you can't. I'll understand that easily enough." Because lying or deceiving someone is different than simply not being able to tell them something.
She offers him a hand to shake, meeting his gaze with a pleasant, if vaguely determined, one. "Shall we call a truce and deal, then? To be honest with each other in what ways we can?"
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"I'm Amelia Ronsam, merchant and rogue by trade, and it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Jim." Her smile widens a bit as she motions to the open seat in front of him. "You ask an interesting question - might I join you while I answer?"
It doesn't matter that she's already technically answered his questions; They're starting over, and that demands she do things right from the start.
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"Sure, have a seat," he answers, moving his coffee cup to one side in case she needs the elbow room.
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"My family has been everything to me. They were the people closest to me when I still lived on my world. We shared in triumphs together and celebrated every occasion we could with a gathering of as many of us as we could manage." The corner of her lip tugs up into a smirk. "It made for a rather big spectacle when I brought home a noble title for them - we took over an entire city block for it."
Sure, a city block isn't as impressive in Masarra as it is in New York, but it's still impressive to her. The sheer number of people in the streets, crowding around each other laughing, smiling, and dancing is still one of her favorite memories, even if much of the rest of that day was unpleasant.
She lets that small thought hang in the air for a moment before she continues. "I haven't had to reconnect with my family after such a long period of time, though. We've been apart for a month or so at a time, but it was never long enough that I felt like I'd missed something when I came home." Her smile slowly softens into some sadder and a little more sympathetic. "I'm sorry you're having trouble with your family."
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He listens as she speaks, taking a sip of his now lukewarm coffee, and manages a polite smile, accepting her sympathy. "Your family sounds a lot bigger than mine ever was. Do you have brothers or sisters?"
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"A handful," she says with a small laugh. "Two brothers and a sister, all younger than me. And for most of my life, my paternal grandparents lived with all of us and my parents. We had a very crowded house, but I didn't have to share my room after my sister was out of her crib." A small blessing for being the eldest.
"What was your home like?" she asks. And then, realizing that question could be taken several ways, she adds, "I mean the physical one. Did you live in a city or somewhere far away from it all?"
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"Small town called Riverside," he answers honestly. "Out in rural Iowa, about fifteen miles from the closest big city. It's technically a farm, but we never did any farming ourselves. I'm actually living there again for now - my apartment got destroyed, and since I had another place to go, Starfleet bumped me down the priority list for finding alternate housing." He doesn't fault them for that decision; it makes perfect sense to prioritize those who have nowhere else to stay.
"It's not so bad, though. There's a Starfleet shipyard about ten miles away, and I used to go and watch the ships being built sometimes when I was a kid."
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She nods along as he explains where he grew up, trying to picture something like that. Not only for spaceship captain Jim Kirk, but for... well, anyone. She's seen a few rural towns and farmhouses in the middle of nowhere in her lifetime, but she can't imagine anyone growing up there if they weren't living off the land. Her mouth's halfway open to ask a little more about the house when he brings up the shipyard, and her face lights up at that little gem.
"That sounds amazing. I've seen a shipyard for ships that sail on the water before, but I imagine a yard that builds vessels made for space would be that much more grand." It can't beat the bustle of a port town for her, but the idea is still intriguing. "What was it like, the shipyard? How many ships could they build at the same time? Two? Three?" Her curiosity is getting the better of her now, but she really can't help it when it comes to things like this. Who would've thought she and Jim Kirk had something in common?
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"It's kinda like a dry dock for sailing ships, but a hell of a lot bigger," he says, as he's seen historical shipyards once or twice before himself. "How many ships they can build at a time depends on the size of the ship. The Enterprise is the biggest ship in the fleet, seven hundred twenty-five meters long, so she's got the shipyard all to herself. The old NX-class ships were small enough they could've done four at a time, but they never did, so they could leave room to repair commissioned ships."
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To be fair to the excitable rogue, is also more details about the Enterprise than she's heard so far, so she's eager to learn more. "None of the ships on my world come even close to that size. How do you manage to keep track of everything happening on a vessel so large? Even with a first mate, there's simply so much ground and crew to look after..."
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At least, that's the way he sees it.
"Most of it's done by computer these days, but for the stuff that isn't, every deck has a way to call up to the bridge or the head of their department. And there's a lot of paperwork," he adds with a wry sort of grin. "Daily reports and that kinda thing."
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"The computer keeps track of everything that happens on the ship?" If she sounds impressed, it's because she is. Her phone can't do anything nearly that advanced, even if it can be used as a PINpoint. "Does it summarize findings for you? Alert you of emergencies? Or does that require a human touch?" Yes, she understands a lot more than one might expect from her state of dress, though that sort of thing should always be expected of a rogue.
She laughs a little at the comment about paperwork, though. "Paperwork is a multiversal constant," she agrees. "I had it on my world and I hear talk of it often from others. It seems no matter where you go or what you do, there's always paperwork, even if it's become electronic for those cultures with more advanced technology." She answers his wry smile with one of her own. "You have my sympathy for that. I thought paperwork was bad enough for managing a few dozen people and inventory across two shops. I can only imagine how much more you have with such a large ship to command."
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Jim nods along with her complaints about paperwork, and she'll already have some idea the form that his must take, given the nature of the datapad lying on the table in front of him. "Yeah, it's a lot. I might spend a few hours a day just signing off requisitions."
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"A downfall of being in charge - you need to know and be involved with pretty much everything." She ran two shops and managed a few dozen people, plus all the contracted ship captains - she completely understands Jim's pain. Being in charge is great, until everyone is demanding your time or signature for something. "I take it that's why you carry your pad with you everywhere?" She nods to the datapad on the table, already knowing what that is from conversations with the other Jim Kirk. "So you can sign off on orders from anywhere?"
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Jim looks down at the table in mild surprise, having partly forgotten the datapad was there. "Oh. Onboard, yeah, I do. Not right now though. Enterprise is going to be in for repairs for a while so Command asked me to teach at the Academy in the meantime. Tactics. I was grading papers. And getting messages. No chance at going off radar when you're in Starfleet," he adds wryly, aware that the centuries-old idiom is probably ahead of her time. But she seems like a smart cookie, and context helps, so he's not too worried she'll miss his meaning.
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"Radar?" she repeats, tilting her head slightly in question. "What's that?" She's still used to the idea of finding everything by the sun, stars, and a compass. There's been so many other things she's wanted (and needed) to learn since coming here that new nautical technology hasn't made it onto the list.
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All right, so it's not as straightforward as he thought. That's fair, though, and he doesn't display any scorn for her not knowing what the hell he's talking about. He just hopes that he remembers enough about the outdated tech to describe it enough to be understood. "It's an old kind of sensor sweep. You'd send a signal out in all directions and if it hit something, the signal would bounce back and that'd tell you there was something there. Sonar's the same thing, just underwater."
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Sonar, radar... both concepts she's still struggling to grasp after the thorough and simpler explanation. She doesn't really want to dig out her phone and research what he's talking about, as it's rude to do so when he's doing his best for her now, so she tries rephrasing his example in terms she understands a little better. "So it's like... listening for a sound to come back to you when it bounces off a wall? If something obstructs it, you have an idea of where it is?"
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Jim nods when she rephrases his admittedly confusing explanation. "Echoes, right. It wouldn't tell you anything about what it was, but you'd know where, and sometimes how big it was, depending on how much echo you'd get back."
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Amelia's face noticeably brightens when he clarifies a little more. "Yes! Just like that." She's proud of having understood that one. Now to bring it full circle. "So in saying that you're unable to get off the radar, you mean that you can't hide from your work in any way? At least when you have your computer with you?" He'll have to forgive her terminology for his pad, but she's really doing the best she can. Computers are things she understands, but she doesn't even want to figure out how one could exist in some kind of crystal or piece of glass-like material.
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"You got it." He's not bothered by her calling it a computer, because it is, and he's just glad he doesn't have to explain that part too, just for the ease of communication if nothing else. "Starfleet officers aren't allowed to just walk off without being contactable, even if we're on leave."
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