Icarus

Indie, private, Jim Kirk from the AOS reboot.  21+ Verses primarily set around 09 and STID.

Verses Memes Multiblog Martin Walker

***Low activity notice

                DESPITE AN OFTEN uneven association, Spock is far from reticent of his duties as Kirk’s First Officer. Inside the turbolift, he considers how to best summarize this mission for their burgeoning Captain, not-theirs and theirs, even if by extension, the neighboring difficulty of remaining neutral given the tension on the surface. They sit on the brink of war. A battle for materialistic supremacy, ruling reign over the very same minerals the Federation is, conveniently, interested as well. At the beginning and the end of all things, there is this: dilithium. He’d intended to offer his thoughts upon exit, but in following after Kirk, there’s only the air in his mouth, stopped short by human colloquialism, or merely Kirk’s, again, as ever—a notion somehow pear-shaped, and far from the fruit, quite literally—before the latter of Kirk’s comments fit Spock’s brief confusion into comprehension. ⸻never straightforward, lends itself to Spock’s own discernment of secrecy. They are agreed. Still, he works backwards, thinking jaggedly, without neatness, un-smooth.   Ah,   “ If I am extrapolating your phrasing correctly, then you, too, acknowledge its potential? Rigel Five has been on the cusp of civil warfare for the past decade. Any move to violence will only hinder Starfleet’s efforts to obtain the planet’s natural resources. ”

Walking and talking is, as Jim has quickly come to realise, part and parcel of Command. It’s always been a strength, running his mouth while simultaneously closing ground on wherever he needs to be, but it is this, this quickfire conversation parried with his First Officer that really brings to the fore just how dexterous a Captain needs to be. 

He doesn’t need Spock to spell it out, even if his answers come seemingly at the end of his own questioning, a glimmer perhaps, behind the veil of Spock’s thinking.

But his mind is already moving, taking the ‘cusp of civil warfare’ and ‘resources’ as the clues they are and filling in the blanks. Dilithium, it would have to be. The only resource that the Federation would dare risk being the catalyst for another species’ internal conflict, and it’s at this point that Jim expels a resigned sigh.

He’s well aware of just how precious such a resource is. Without it he wouldn’t be here, striding down the halls of a starship towards the transporter room, sharing a tenseness with his First Officer that is rare in it’s unity. But he can’t help dwelling on the tendency of the Federation’s peaceful proclamation to push the limits of negotiation towards it’s own end.

“You’d extrapolate correctly,” Jim replies, turning at the entrance to their destination, head still turned in conversation with Spock, “somehow I feel like we’re going to regret- Ah Ambassador-- Sarek, good to have you aboard.” 

                   REINFORCING THAT SUMMATION is beneath him. Though, it is—with no small measure of irony—accurate, “ Curious, Captain. As I know you will simply ignore it. ”

“I’m supposed to care?” One of these days she was going to tell Jim to stay the fuck out of her records, even if she knew it was a waste of time. “There’s a reason they call you James Too-Much-Information Kirk.”

Jim knows a thing or too about the ambivalence of birthdays, or even distaste for them. He has a habit of dropping off the map whenever his rolls around so it seemed only fair to give a friend a heads-up. “Thought I’d let you know it won’t go unnoticed, it’ll be in the daily announcement. You wanna go underground, let me know.

Sokol has done this long enough to know there are different kinds of hostages in every situation: the screamers, the runners, the ones that go limp in his arms like cooked spaghetti, and the fighters who want to play hero and sometimes die trying. 

Which would’ve been completely acceptable, Sokol thinks. It’s a fucking robbery after all, one orchestrated by a band of reckless clowns armed to the teeth.

And today, he learns, that there’s the ones that just won’t fucking shut up.

The blonde may have a pretty mouth on he sure as hell runs it. He’s starting to wish Bain put tape into their budget. Sokol tries to put things into perspective. He’ll be grasping at straws in that situation. He’ll say anything. But this–  Is something new. Sokol isn’t sure if he is trying to fuck with or him. Maybe this hostage’s trying to wind him up in the most uncomfortable way possible just to disarm him.

A different approach, sure, but it works. He’s all Sokol has on his mind as he beats back wave after wave of cops, and is so distracted he very nearly empties his gun into Sangres. But perhaps it’s the aggression that drives the authorities to make a hasty tactical retreat, which gives them a window to make their escape.

But first, insurance.

Breezing past the fidgeting hostages, Sokol already has someone in mind. He squats to meet the blond hostage’s eye, unflinchingly shreds the zip-ties bounding his legs, and cuffs their wrists together so he can’t run. Not that he’s going to try, Sokol can’t help but to think. 

Ushering his chosen hostage out of the door, Sokol pokes his head back into the room and instructs the others to stay down and wait for police extraction. Nothing like showing a bit of corporate responsibility in times like these.

“And you,” Sokol hisses to his hostage, unholstering his pistol with his free hand and pressing it to his side. “Walk with me to exit. Come!”

Confidence can be a slippery thing to hold onto, especially once the man with the gun has disappeared from view, leaving him with a ring in his hand and the echo of his own words hanging in the cramped space between him and the other hostages. It’s only once they’re alone again that blue eyes flicker over the others to assess the frightened gazes that meet his own. Shit, they aren’t getting out of here anytime soon.

“It’s going to be okay,” he murmurs with a certainty he’s pulled out of his own ass.

Arrogance is a trait he’s been accused of more than once in his life, and maybe he is arrogant, or maybe no one has called his bluff. Still, he’s intelligent enough to deduce that the guys doing all the shooting seem to be more interested in looting than they are in injuring anyone. 

Fucking zipties, Jim struggles against the harsh plastic that’s digging into skin and really, his Russian loverboy must have some kind of sadistic streak because who the fuck uses zipties over a pair of nice cuffs. 

He’s still twitching against the burn of his restraints when there’s a lull in the fighting and his senses kick into high gear, listening for the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. He really shouldn’t, but seeing that familiar mask enter his vision has the stupid little smirk lighting his lips again, caught between the dangerous dance of flirting with his captor and putting himself in harm’s way to keep the other hostages safe. 

“Miss me already?” Jim taunts and there’s an edge of panic that simmers against the excitement as their proximity closes and he finds himself free of his restraints only to be cuffed to the man in question. Well then, maybe Jim does have psychic powers after all. A little tug of his wrist gauges the security of their connection, feeling a little thrill as mystery man’s hand is tugged towards his. Good, he can work with this.

He’s on his feet, following obediently even as his gaze takes note of his captor’s accomplices, the number of weapons, the exits.. 

- @lykaiia: them!

- @fasciinating: rocks!

- @facetedspades: moths!

- @jundlcndwastes: mind your own business!

𝐏𝐔𝐓 ’ 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ’ 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝟏 - 𝟑 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐒 / 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏.

@lykaiia Jim Kirk/Lyla ❤

Fly for Your Life - Gunship

The Lava - Equateur

𝐏𝐔𝐓 ’ 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ’ 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝟏 - 𝟑 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐒 / 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏.

@paramounticebound Jim Kirk/Khan Noonien Singh  ❤

God Be You - Nostalghia

Chasing Dark - Henric de la Cour

                    THE DEFINITION SCORCHES across his mind with little abandon; it’s as nonsensical as Spock assumed. With a carefully slow breath, the speared look he offers the Captain would be withering if he weren’t also disappointed in the knowledge of the crew’s grossly frivolous conversations. A part of him desires reprimand as a whole—it is unprofessional, arguably harmful in many ways—simply for the intent to remind them, including Captain Kirk, how detrimental these baseless claims can be to the strength of command. “That is illogical.” The concept. That it occurred at all should go without mention. Humans are too often preoccupied with the thought of fraternization—an unnecessary fear of loneliness—of which, he finds incomprehensible. The words may have lance themselves into his skull. Spock narrows his eyes. “You did not consider correcting Ensign 0’Neill?”

Jim makes a circling waving motion of his hand, his version of ‘no of course not.’ He’d been a little preoccupied at the time, and he says as much. “I was busy, Spock. I didn’t even recall the conversation until an hour later when I caught a few sideways glances in the mess.” At the beginning of his Captaincy he’d been more singular minded in his crackdown of ship’s gossip, but he’d learned over time that the crew were going to talk whether he disciplined them or not.

As long as the topics remained relatively harmless he left them to their own devices. Didn’t mean it didn’t irk him from time to time. “We’re practically joined at the hip, Spock, they would’ve guessed you whether I said it or someone else did.” Ordinarily he wouldn’t have dragged Spock into this whole affair in the first place, sensitive to his First Officers own sensitivity ( as well as his own ) but it was done now and there wasn’t much to be done about it for risk of digging the hole deeper.