EVENT: SPACE PIRATES ▒ THE EMERGENCY SHUTTLE BAY & THE SCYLLA

[ataraxites]

CHARACTERS: Ensemble production!
LOCATION: The emergency shuttle bay & The Scylla
WARNINGS: Potential disturbing themes.
SUMMARY: Exploration and salvage of the Scylla and the emergency shuttle bay it's docked onto.
NOTES: April 28 onwards.

An emergency shuttle bay is found tucked away above the 50th passenger floor; holding only two transport shuttles and a network console, it contains the final evidence of the pirates' work. Here, large amounts of the equipment and items they looted from the Tranquility are piled up: some waiting, some already packed up into storage crates for transport onto the Scylla— and some, though not much, already stored away on board. How they came aboard is made clear now by the two holes cut through the metal of the hull-side wall— the openings connect to docking tubes, which provide an easy route onto the Scylla herself. On the wall above is a message left in red: MAKE IT QUICK... And with the jump fast approaching, it might be best to take heed...

Comments

[goldshirt]

[he tries very hard not to feel like he's been shrugged off when Sulu pulls away from him, instead reminding himself that yes, I know what this is like. when everything is jagged and raw and someone finds that one spot, applies the softest pressure and makes you want to scream. Kirk isn't good at voicing his compassion, even if he's been told his heart runneth over.

instead of pointing out how he's withdrawn, Kirk picks up a piece of tech. there are a number of things he could say here, things that would cement their relationship back into the roles of helmsman and captain. but he's had time to think, now. he's had the time to meditate (literally, figuratively) on what happened, on Sulu's decision, on the effect this ship has on people.

he sets the piece down, but his hand stands on top of it.]

You scared the crap out of me. [he finally admits, after a silence so long it might have seemed like he wouldn't say anything at all. when his gaze comes up, his eyes are a blue like the ocean, and he doesn't add anything. it's all there, in his face.]

[leaps]

[ it's just as well he doesn't. it's too hard for sulu to hear any of it, to distinguish between compassion and pity. there's a reason no one knows about his hands, a reason he's scarcely spoken to anyone about what happened to him while he was dwelling in the depths of the ship. he can't bear the sympathies, the condolences.

he doesn't know what to say to what kirk offers up instead. it's honest, the kind of admittance that brings with it guilt. sulu had gone out for a lot of reasons, more than he'd shared, but he hadn't let himself think about what the severance had left in its wake. he hadn't let himself consider anything other than the matter at hand, because he'd needed--

he'd needed something. something else. but that's no more easily explained than what had happened to him, so sulu doesn't try. ]

I can't apologize.

[ or doesn't know how. it's hard to say. ]

[goldshirt]

I spent a month afraid for you, knowing I couldn't go after you because I had a responsibility here. I waited to the last possible second to get into that stasis chamber, and you didn't come back.

[and he'd been so fucking helpless for it. waiting wouldn't do fuck all, what if Sulu had showed up right before the jump? what if he'd seen a network post and it had been the same as Hotspur? was Hikaru missing better or worse than hearing him die over the network, like those pirates had? he pushes the line of thought away, because it was over, now. Sulu wasn't dead. he was back.]

I thought you were dead. [and it was my fault, because I couldn't save you. he taps his fingers, a restless gesture, against a long line of metal in front of him, his gaze having moved from the helmsman to the piles of Tranquility sitting there. part of him wants an apology, wants Sulu to be able to see why what he did was foolish, but he recognizes that it'd be a silly thing to ask. Jim himself would do the same damn thing and never apologize for his actions, for his decision, for trying.

but the rest of him wants an apology for scaring him. for Sulu to know that part of Kirk had fallen apart when the pilot was gone. he can't articulate it, not really. and Sulu can't apologize, so he takes that need and wraps it up in barbed wire and lets it sit until he feels like he can deal with it.

instead, he moves his hand and rests it on Hikaru's shoulder, and he squeezes, looking him in the face. I can't lose you the action says.]

You're a good man.

[leaps]

[ it's too much. it makes this personal on a level sulu had tried to ignore. sulu detaches and seperates himself, because this couldn't be about anyone else. but kirk lays it out in plain, careful terms and sulu has to close his eyes and take a deep breath.

there's a limit to what he's able to endure without shattering apart. sulu's aware of this, aware of his breaking point and how he's skirting down the line of it every single day. eventually, he's going to miss a step and fall apart. it's inevitable. all things must come to that point, unless miraculously he finds a way to dial it back. the best sulu can hope for is this, breathing past the crush of guilt and everything else and finally reach for kirk.

it's not quite what this was, before he'd left. but it's a level of familiarity that's a step up from how distant they've been recently. ]

I'm not going to leave you here.

[ it's such a bitter promise. sulu wonders if he'll ever leave at all. ]

None of us are dying here, Jim.

[ though sulu can't help but think he was a dead man walking. his life had ended already, spun out and stretched through eons of time crushed into the span of a month, given him back rickety and broken in places. what use did starfleet have for that? ]

[goldshirt]

[he feels like something unsaid is going on behind Sulu's words, something that should be a promise and that Kirk will believe in the front of his mind and fear in the back of it. their line of work didn't really allow for those kinds of promises, George Kirk's death had set that up for Jim long before he'd gone into Starfleet, defiantly disregarding the rules of not just the Federation but of the universe. but Jim remembers some of what those two said when they came out of the ship, about not being able to leave if you give too much up.

his grip tightens, just a fraction on Sulu's shoulder. Sulu might say I'm not going to leave you here, but Jim knows there wasn't a chance he'd be able to leave this universe if he didn't take his crew with him. if they got to the end, and for some reason Sulu or Spock or Bones or any of them couldn't make it back—

well, Jim knows what his decision would be.]

Damn right. [he agrees, and he pushes the smile onto his mouth, urges confidence into his tone because as a captain, that's what he does. he knows he's as much the root of his team as they are the root of him. Sulu isn't okay, Jim is aware of it even if he doesn't know how, and for that reason he needs to be stronger.]

[leaps]

[ it should be a promise but it feels like a lie. sulu doesn't have that kind of hope anymore. he has a brief, desperate need to lay out what happened at kirk's feet like that will fix it, like telling kirk everything that happened will bring with it some sort of--

but kirk has enough burdens on his shoulders. kirk doesn't deserve to be saddled with the things sulu's got weighing him down. he needs kirk to believe they can get out of here, even if sulu doesn't. so he lies just to hear kirk agree.

they're in public and it's important maybe to be professional, to show that whatever sulu did it wasn't indicative of a divide. this was the moment to comport himself as an officer, but he reaches up and grabs kirk's wrist, hangs on tightly. it hurts, sharp jagged spikes of pain with every flex of his fingers, but sulu ignores it. ]

[goldshirt]

[he feels something unwind in his core when Sulu's palm closes around his wrist. it reflects in the softening of tension from Kirk's shoulders, something he'd been holding on to without really realizing it was there. this was Sulu reaching back, even if he's locked everything else down on high alert, even if he was tight lipped about everything that happened, and he wasn't telling the whole story.

the tightness in his fingers is the most telling, because it's the same way Kirk finds himself holding on to people when they get close enough.

he's hit with the desire to shift his hold, grab Sulu's hand and hoist him up and walk out of the shuttle bay. abandon this post and all of their duties until further notice and fall back on the handful of reprieves they'd found in one another: standing in the kitchen and sharing a meal, or falling asleep over the schematics of the shuttles. simple things, that were easy and safe. things that weren't loaded with words unsaid and a darkness that chipped away from the inside.

it's right there, in his gaze, when Sulu grabs him and Jim meets his eyes. they were the only two in this particular situation; humans from the Enterprise who have been railroaded by this ship, who'd been compromised in a way that Spock wouldn't let himself be compromised. it had been clear as day, when Spock had mediated them when Sulu came back.

Jim digs his thumb into the helmsman's collar, rubbing the bone, and this would normally be when he'd clap his shoulder and nod and dismiss the conversation. instead, he speaks without breaking eye contact:]

I'll come see you later.

[leaps]

[ it's desperate, almost. sulu knows that. it's clutching for a lifeline, but the lifeline doesn't exist. it's like being down a deep, dark pit and trying to claw his way out, except he can't get any leverage, keeps sliding back down. he's been changed to his foundations. there's not a way to get back. there were already cracks. he spent a month in the dark and the cracks shattered under the pressure.

and sulu can't articulate this. he can't speak about it, can't admit it. that makes it real. everyone must be able to see that something's wrong, but sulu's childish enough to think that denial keeps it from being tangible and permanent. ]

Make sure I'm sleeping, sir?

[ he wishes his voice didn't sound so flat. sulu misses the days when forgetting to sleep was his main concern. these days it's just wreckage as far as the eye can see, and it's almost laughable, how quickly that escalated. ]

[goldshirt]

You bet.

[his agreement should be lighter, but there's a weight to it, as though to fill the places where Sulu's voice has fallen flat. while the guise had always been to make sure Sulu was sleeping, or make sure Kirk was eating, it was as much companionship as anything else. he doesn't know what it will mean, now. what changes, exactly, have happened to Sulu.

but whatever it was, Kirk didn't plan on giving up on him. if their positions were reversed, Sulu wouldn't give up on Kirk, either.]