#rebelliousstarter

By now Kirk was used to being on strange planets, brave new worlds, universes, galaxies—Mr. Scott had said it right when he called those in the federation explorers at their core—because ultimately they were. At least when there weren’t rescue missions to complete, lives to save, villains to catch, beautiful women to flirt with. It took something genuinely exceptional to shock the rebellious male and he tried on principal to turn into his voyages, not run away from them.

The planet he and his crew were foraging in might have been unfamiliar in quite a lot of ways but it was admittedly beautiful; warm and humid with vibrant greens peppering the atmosphere under an open sky of baby blue and translucent white—Kirk hadn’t been looking for anything in particular when he came across something like he had never seen before; it was wholeheartedly a majestic looking creature and he was instantaneously torn between stepping forward to investigate further and stepping back to take precaution.

It was dark, and completely unique, it was a.. dragon. Whoa.

Jim Kirk had always been something of an enthusiast when it came to medical bay; perhaps not so much when he had to be there because of injury or illness and certainly not when Bones was breathing down his neck about not touching this or not playing with that. Grumpy, albeit handsome, doctors aside though the charismatic captain could remember liking hospitals and facilities alike since his tumultuous youth. Doctors and nurses were almost always nice to you, even if it was only because they had to be, and they never asked too many questions—they only fixed you. Something Jim admittedly needed plenty of if he was expected to reach thirty before enduring some kind of untimely demise.

It wasn’t that much of a surprise then that a bored and currently obligation free Kirk found himself strolling into medical bay, simply for something to do, both relieved and disappointed that Bones was no wear in sight. “Hey ladies.” Jim flirtatiously prompted, cerulean blue eyes sparkling mischievously as he continued walking past to the particular ensign he was looking for—there would be hell later on if the characteristically displeased CMO found out he had been in medical bay flirting with his nurses and ensign but what was life without a little risk? Right?

“Shaw,” Kirk began rather unprofessionally, though in his defense he was off duty, leaning over an empty bed languidly and huffing rather boyishly. “What’s a captain got to do to get a lollipop around here?”

Chess..

The fact of the matter was it simply wasn’t Kirk’s game; that was to say it was becoming all too apparent that beating his first officer in chess was something of a “mathematical impossibility.” It wasn’t that he didn’t possess the intelligence per se or the mental capacity, or even the patience—though it was particularly taxing when the resident Vulcan took forever to make his next move— no, Jim simply realized that beating a sentient being in a game based around logic and rationality was a taller task than the rebellious captain cared to admit. Like trying to drink Bones under the table, beating Uhura at Scrabble, or Chekov at.. whatever it was Russians did in their spare time. No, if he wanted to beat Spock in this millennium he was going to have to do it on his own terms.

It wasn’t that Jim had to win per se; it was only that, well—yeah.. he had to win.

For quite some time now Spock had made a bi-weekly trip to his accommodations where they proceeded to play a game of chess, with minimal discussion, and he went on to get his ass handed to him—neither knew how it had started but it had become something of a tradition Jim was particularly fond of. He hadn’t gotten to play many games in his youth and at its core chess was a game, a game that required far too much thinking but still a game nevertheless. A stress reliever, fun, and he had already decided that tonight he would claim his most satisfying victory over the stoic chess enthusiast.