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uncommoncold · 3 years

Text

Treasure

Summary: After a lengthy chase, Park Seonghwa finds himself face to face with the dread pirate Hongjoong. Will he find a blood thirsty pirate or dashing rogue? Will he lose the one thing that he holds most dear, his heart?

Word Count: 11.2k

Content Warning: Top Park Seonghwa, Bottom Kim Hongjoong, Pirate-teez, Boys Kissing, Oral Sex, Two Sex

The flag whipped violently with the gale winds and blistering rain. “Captain, if we keep going like we are, we’re going to break apart.”

“I know but unless you’re looking for a long drop and a short stop, we have to keep going.” He peered through his cabin window and into the storm, trying to make out the shape of their pursuers. The fact that he couldn’t see them gave him hope.

At first they had kept their distance, following just far enough away to make him think perhaps he was mistaken. But they had followed for two days, getting closer the closer they got to the islands. He knew what that meant, they were being hunted.

Not that he wasn’t sure that someone thought he deserved it. He had done more than enough to put himself a few people’s sights.

“They can’t possibly see us if we can’t see them.” Hongjoong mused.

“Let’s head for the leeward side of this island.” He pointed to the map. “There’s a cove there we can shelter in. Maybe we’ll get lucky and they already took refuge from the storm, or better yet, maybe they sank.”

His first mate, Yunho smirked and nodded.

A short while later, they were pulling into a sheltered cove. It was a risk, if their pursuers were still chasing them, then they were stuck with nowhere and no way to run. However, it was sheltered enough that if you didn’t know it was there, you could sail right by and never see a ship. The island wasn’t populated by more than flora and fauna but it would do to sit out the storm.

Normally, it would have been a good time to pull out the casks and enjoy some downtime but he didn’t dare when they didn’t know who was on their tails. It seemed unlikely that whoever it was was hunting him to give him birthday wishes. He couldn’t count out revenge or the authorities.

***

“We’ve lost them sir.” Seonghwa informed the captain.

“It’s this blasted storm, keep looking. I’m not letting that son of a bitch slip away again.”

“Again sir?”

“I’ve been looking for him for nearly three years since he took my last ship. Brazen, cocky, and slippery as an eel. I’ve been so careful… I’ll have the reward and see him dance on the end of a rope yet.”

Seonghwa wasn’t entirely sure he liked the malicious light that lit up his captain’s eyes as he talked about seeing the pirate they were chasing hang. It wasn’t that he was ignorant of crime and punishment, he just preferred not to watch it and he took no joy in death. The captain was no longer a young man and he was determined to have the pirate Hongjoong in his grasp before he died.

“Since we’ve lost him, I suggest we shelter from the storm at one of the nearby islands, sir.”

For a long moment, the captain was quiet before heaving a weary sigh and nodding, “Alright, take us in. We’ll pick up the search after the storm dies down.”

“Yes, sir.” Seonghwa went out on deck and informed the helmsman of the captain’s decision and they fought their way into the bay of a nearby island. It was just in time as well as the storm was only getting worse. It was just a little spit of land, mountainous and good for nothing unless you liked coconuts and sea birds.

***

“Captain!” Yunho tore into the room.

Hongjoong had been nursing a headache but he bolted upright from his bed, “What is it.”

“A ship pulled into the bay sir. They’re making no moves toward us but if they get any closer, they’ll surely spot us. What do you want to do?”

Hongjoong headed up on deck and looked through his telescope at the ship’s colors. Shit. He knew exactly who that was, he had been chasing him for nigh on three years now, ever since he took his ship. In fact, it was his ship that he was using now. He tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the railing. He could send the men with the cargo inland but there were no promises they wouldn’t go looking for them and they would be vastly outnumbered… “I have an idea.”

Yunho turned slowly, Hongjoong was grinning broadly at him. “I don’t like that smile.”

“It’s a really stupid idea that just might get me killed but will ensure everyone else’s safety.”

“I really don’t like this idea.” Yunho crossed his arms and glared at his captain sternly.

“You haven’t heard it yet.”

“I’ve heard enough to know I don’t like it, not if it might get you killed. The last time we went with a plan that might get you killed, I ended up running naked through town.”

“You won’t end up naked this time. I promise.”

“I still don’t like it.”

“No, you won’t like it.” Yunho tended to think of himself as Hongjoong’s keeper, he chased after him when he needed to be chased. He protected him from his own most dire instincts. He was the best first mate and friend Hongjoong could ask for. This time he wasn’t joking, it really might get him killed. It was a roll of the dice, then again, life was a roll of the dice.

Yunho groaned, “Alright tell me.”

Yunho listened to Hongjoong’s plan and it was absolutely the daftest thing he had ever heard in all of his life but if he could pull it off, it would save the lives of everyone on board but it still would leave his own life in a precarious place. Honestly, he couldn’t think of a better plan. They were a small ship and they had two guns out of commission. He also knew that Hongjoong put the lives of his crew above his own, it was part of why he was so well loved. He was a great captain… and friend. “Why do I get the feeling if I say no, you’ll do it anyway.”

“Because I will.”

“Shit.” Yunho ran his hands through his hair and braced his hands against his hips. “Fine, I can’t stop you.”

They set to work, loading one of the dinghy’s with provisions and a small amount of the treasure they had accumulated. It took a little cajoling but he had Yunho punch him a few times.

Hongjoong then cut his head with his trusty knife and let the blood run down over the side of his face and ear. “How do I look?”

“Like a man who has had a rough time.”

“That’s how I want to look. Let’s go.”

“Be careful.” Yunho grabbed Hongjoong in a tight hug. “If you get yourself killed I’ll never forgive you.”

“How do you think I’d feel about it? I’m not ready to die yet.” Hongjoong grinned brightly and stepped into the dinghy. He waved as it hit the water. Happily, the wind was on his side, he sailed out to where he should be able to be seen by the larger ship and lowered his sail. He then lay down in the boat and waited. It didn’t take long before he saw two boats break away from the larger boat and come his way. “Ahoy!”

Hongjoong put on a show of struggling to lift his head before raising a hand, “Ahoy!”

They towed him back toward the bigger ship, when he was brought on board, he spun a tale of intrigue. There had been a mutiny on his ship and he had just barely managed to escape. The men who had picked him up were enraptured by the tale he told. Seonghwa stood by and listened, he certainly looked the part. He had seen better days. There was something about his story that niggled at the back of his head but their guest was still a man alone with few provisions and just looking for a lift to the closest populated island.

They were a full crew of able bodied men with arms. Seonghwa was just about to show him to a cabin when the captain came out. Immediately he began pointing and sputtering. Hongjoong paled when he saw the captain. The old man immediately lunged at Hongjoong and caught him right on the chin with a forceful left that knocked him to his knees. In all truth, it had taken Hongjoong by surprise. He wouldn’t have thought that someone of his age could have come up with such speed.

“What’s he doing here?” The captain said as he stepped back nursing his sore knuckles.

Seonghwa told him the story that had been relayed to them. The captain’s expression slowly shifted from incredulous to gleeful. “All of these years and I’ve finally got you where I want you. Toss him in the brig.”

“Yes, sir.” Seonghwa grabbed one of Hongjoong’s arms and another sailor grabbed the other.

Hongjoong shot a look of pure venom at the captain.

“What are you going to do? Swim? We’ve got your boat and this island is uninhabited. Maybe the magistrate will be lenient on you but considering you're a wanted man, I doubt it. Oh and one more thing…” The captain hauled off and punched him again and again. “That’s for my ship.”

By the time he was thrown into the brig, his head was swimming and his ears were ringing. Yunho hadn’t pulled his punches, nor had the captain. He was alive… for now. Considering that they didn’t go into battle, nor were the rest of his crew joining him, his ruse had worked. He breathed a sigh of relief and waited.

Eventually, the storm passed. He could hear sounds overhead of the crew making ready to get underway. It was another hour that he strained his ears for every little sound before deciding that they really were underway and heading back out to sea. Only then did he risk laying down and closing his eyes.

Seonghwa lay in his bunk and stared at the ceiling. It seemed almost miraculous that the very man they were looking for just happened to have a mutiny and just happened to end up in their hands. He couldn’t think of a reason why he would just hand himself over to someone who wanted him dead. Surely stranger things had happened in the history of the world. Still, he couldn’t help feeling a bit sorry for him, pirate or no. He had had a string of really rotten luck.

Since the captain hadn’t given him any orders to not feed the prisoner, he took it upon himself to bring him down some food. The fact that the captain just so happened to be busy when he did was purely coincidental… mostly.

The prisoner looked a good deal worse for wear, bruises had formed on his cheek, jaw, and left eye into his hairline. The swelling had gone down though. “I brought you some breakfast.”

Hongjoong lifted his head and offered a half smile as their eyes met.

Seonghwa’s heart skipped a beat. He immediately looked away, unable to account for the strange feeling.

“I’m going to guess this wasn’t the captain’s order?” He said as he reached out to take the bowl of porridge. There were bits of some sort of meat in it, salted fish if he were to take a guess.

“How did you know?” Seonghwa looked back surprised.

“Someone who has been chasing me as long as he’s been chasing me, is not likely to be the forgiving sort. I doubt he would be worried at all about my comfort and would probably like to see me suffer as much as possible.” He took a bite, their ship’s cook wasn’t as good as Wooyoung was but it was passable. He was lucky he was getting anything at all.

“I guess you weren’t expecting to end up here.” Seonghwa watched Hongjoong take another bite.

“No, I have to admit, it was a big surprise to me. I’m not sure what I thought would happen when I left my ship.”

Hongjoong paused for a moment before asking, “Are you supposed to be talking to the prisoner?” Despite what might be a harsh question, there was an almost mischievous light in his dark eyes.

“No, probably not.”

“A man who likes to break the rules, I like men like that.”

“Are you trying to charm me?” Seonghwa asked. It was unusual to find someone as charming as he found their prisoner. He found himself wanting to get to know him. His smile was a physical weapon he could wield as surely as a sword or a pistol.

“Only if it’s working. If not, then of course not.” Hongjoong flashed an easy smile.

That forced a surprised laugh from Seonghwa. There was that smile again, the weight of it hit him and he found himself gazing at Hongjoong’s lips. For some reason Seonghwa was suddenly wondering about the details of his mutiny. He seemed like an easy man to like, which meant that wasn’t why his crew had mutinied. Still, he was going to have to face the fact that they were probably taking him to his death. Then again, maybe he was entirely different here than he was with his men, perhaps he was a tyrant but something whispered to him, told him that wasn’t the case.

He didn’t like it.

If the prisoner was a pirate, then he had killed dozens of people. He found himself asking, “How many men have you killed?”

Hongjoong looked surprised at the sudden question, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you?”

“That means it’s either very high or very low.”

“Very low.” There was no hint of teasing when he said it. There were times when killing someone was unavoidable but every single death had repercussions, if not for himself then for someone, somewhere and he took each death as something that should be respected and honored, no matter who his foe was.

“Really?” Seonghwa asked, genuinely curious.

“There are usually many, many ways to get what you want without resorting to murder.”

“Then why are you wanted?”

“Ah, now just because I’m not a wanton murderer doesn’t mean that I haven’t broken any laws. I have broken more than a few laws and I don’t feel bad about that in the least.” The smile was back and this time he turned its full power on Seonghwa who felt more than a little shaken by it. Bruises and all, the pirate Hongjoong was a beautiful man and a fascinating one. He opened his mouth to ask another question when someone bellowed his name from above.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. I’ll bring you something later.” He turned and started to walk away.

“How far are we from shore?”

“We’re about three days out from the nearest port that I know you are wanted at.” He might be a pirate but he wasn’t a big enough name to be wanted everywhere. However, one group of people that wanted to hang you was more than enough.

“Three days… I didn’t catch your name.” Hongjoong said.

“Park Seonghwa, you?”

“Kim Hongjoong. For what it’s worth, I appreciate the food, even if it is going to waste in a dead man’s belly.”

“If it gives you comfort, then there’s no waste.” Seonghwa walked away then, heading up to find out who was calling him.

Hongjoong played with his food while he thought about his guest. He wondered if he might be inclined to help him escape. He drummed his fingers against his knee as he contemplated it. Yet his thoughts kept drifting back to the man himself, he was almost heartstopping in his physical beauty. There was a gentle aura around him that made him seem like someone he would want to protect. He sighed and pushed the thought of his sparkling eyes and sweet smile out of his head.

Despite what he said, he had no intention of dying. There were a thousand ways to get what you wanted, he had managed to save his crew now hopefully, he could find a way to save himself.

Over the next few days, Seonghwa continued to bring Hongjoong his meals and they spoke at length. Seonghwa told him all about his home, his family. His father used to have his own ship but he had decided that with the pirates, it was safer on shore so he had retired from the sea to run his own shop, which proved to be an excellent move on his part. Their family business did far better than expected and he had managed to secure an excellent retirement for himself and his family.

Hongjoong had planned on playing it close to the vest but he found himself opening up to Seonghwa, he told him of his ill-spent youth, why he had turned to piracy. He told him a good deal more about himself than he ever intended, he found himself waiting anxiously for just a glimpse of Seonghwa’s face through his day. It wasn’t just because he was bored either, it was because he genuinely enjoyed his company. He loved listening to his deep smooth voice, he loved listening to his stories. He was going to be sorry to lose him when there was still so much he didn’t know about him. Unless he could swing it so that he didn’t have to.

There was a buzz in the air on the fourth day since Hongjoong had been captured. He wasn’t sure what time it was when two burly men came down to his cell to let him out. When he was brought up on deck, the captain was standing there looking like the cat who caught the canary. Seonghwa was standing nearby but the expression on his face was conflicted. There were three men waiting, they looked like town guards and perhaps a magistrate. They handed the captain a small purse, presumably the reward for catching the dread pirate, before they clapped Hongjoong in irons and began to drag him away.

“Bye bye, I’ll see you at your hanging.” The captain called after Hongjoong.

Now that Hongjoong was taken care of, the captain turned a brilliant smile on Seonghwa, who couldn’t help feeling a little sick. “Now that I’ve seen to it that that miscreant will hang, what say you we have a talk eh?”

Seonghwa took a last look at Hongjoong’s back, he wanted to run after them but he managed to suppress the impulse before following after the captain who headed into his cabin. “You’ve proven to be an excellent first mate, have you ever thought about captaining your own ship?”

“Sir?” Seonghwa looked puzzled at the question.

“Well now that I’ve done what I wanted to do, I’d like to retire, head back home to my wife and family. That means this ship will need a captain, I’d like to hand her over to you. You keep running it in my name and we split the profits, what do you think?”

It sounded like a dream come true, “Are you sure, sir?”

“I think it sounds like a fine plan. Your first task as captain is to let the men have shore leave for the next week.”

“Yes sir!” Seonghwa did as he was bid to the delights of all of the crew

Seonghwa himself headed into town and found an inn. He was looking forward to sleeping in a bed that didn’t sway and a fresh meal. As he sat down to his lunch he couldn’t help but imagine Hongjoong in jail. In the days they had spent together, they had grown to know each other quite well and he just couldn’t stand the idea of him locked up without a friend nearby to hear his woes or maybe help to make him a little more comfortable. If he were completely honest, the man he had gotten to know didn’t deserve the hangman’s noose. He deserved his freedom. He kept telling himself that he wasn’t going to interfere but still he found himself asking the locals as to the location of the local jail.

It was in a small wooden building, the front was where the guards sat and the back was the jail. It was a small town and it didn’t look like their city guard was the largest employer in town. It was a small and run down building. He couldn’t imagine it would be particularly warm or well insulated.

“What am I doing?” Seonghwa paced back and forth. He wanted to go see him, make sure he was alright. But he already didn’t like the idea that he was going to die. He didn’t like the idea of him being hurt or suffering at all. Maybe he was too soft hearted. By the time he finally made up his mind to go, it was getting dark. He marched up to the guardhouse. There was an exceptionally tall man talking to one of the guards animatedly.

He approached the other guard who was sitting behind a desk smoking a pipe and looking bored. “Excuse me, I was wondering if I could see a prisoner.”

“Sure, I’d ask who but there’s only the one?” The man drawled as he pulled his feet from the desk and sat up.

“Kim Hongjoong.” Seonghwa said anyway.

The man who was talking to the other guard looked momentarily surprised and stopped talking but seemed to shrug it off and returned to his conversation. He couldn’t tell since it was at his back but the man was now watching him.

The guard took him back into the back of the jail, there were only two cells and only one of them was occupied. Hongjoong was stretched out on the floor staring blankly up at the ceiling, when he heard the footsteps stop in front of his cell, he said without looking over, “I was wondering if you were going to come see me.”

“I almost didn’t.” Seonghwa said as he grabbed a chair from the corner and dragged it over to sit by the cell.

“What made you change your mind?” Hongjoong sat up and turned to face his visitor.

“I had a question for you.”

“Oh?” Hongjoong perked up and gave a curious tilt of the head.

“Is it true?” Seonghwa leaned forward, lowering his tone and resting his elbows on his knees.

“Is what true?”

“How you came to be on our ship?” It was the one question that he hadn’t asked that he had wanted to.

Hongjoong was quiet for a moment as he contemplated Seonghwa, “Let me ask you a question, how close are you to the captain?”

“He’s my employer. He took me on after my father retired. It’s purely business and if I’m completely honest…” He looked around and added, “I don’t really care for him much.”

Hongjoong pursed his lips thoughtfully, “Hm… Then in that case, I don’t feel bad letting you know the truth. It was a plot.”

“A plot?”

“A plan, a ruse, a machination, you see… my ship was harbored in the bay that your ship sailed into. If I didn’t do something, then we would have been stuck with no way to run. Your ship is a good deal larger than mine, we were outgunned, outmanned and trapped. My crew means everything to me and if I could save them by sacrificing myself then I would… and I did. I was kind of hoping for an opportunity to escape but one never came.” Hongjoong sniffed and brushed the back of his finger against the tip of his nose.

“Is that why you were so friendly with me?” Seonghwa asked.

“Yes and no.” He answered honestly. “If you would have given me the chance, I would have taken it but you didn’t. I don’t hold it against you and I don’t regret having spent time with you. I-”

Hongjoong looked thoughtful, carefully thinking about what he wanted to say. He finally gave up with a sigh and shrugged, “I like you. I like talking to you, spending time with you. Even if we had met under different circumstances, I would have still liked you.”

Seonghwa opened and closed his mouth a couple of times and dropped his head thoughtfully. Conflicted emotions reflected in Seonghwa’s face, “I almost wish I had, you sacrificed yourself for your men. That’s not an act that should be punished but celebrated. I think, believe it or not, you might actually be a good man.”

Hongjoong smiled brightly, “That’s a hell of a thing to say to a man sitting in a cell waiting for escape or the hangman’s noose.”

“I believe it.”

“Then,” Hongjoong scooted closer to the bars, “if I asked, would you help me?”

“Help you how?” Seonghwa was completely cognizant of the fact that he might be being played but he didn’t think that Hongjoong was playing him.

At the skeptical expression on Seonghwa’s face, Hongjoong waved his hands. “No, it’s nothing like that. Could you take a message to one of my crew, I know they are here. There’s no way they would let me swing without trying… something.”

“Only a message?”

“Only a message.”

“What’s the message and who am I taking it to?”

“There’s an inn on the far side of town, away from the harbor, near the blacksmith. There’s a man named Choi Jongho, he’ll be staying there.” He proceeded to describe him down to the fact that he dressed far more nicely than you would expect of a pirate, a bit of a dandy and his jewelry.

“Would you tell him that if the weather’s fair then open the sails and if the skies are threatening, to fold up the sails and ride out the weather.”

Seonghwa frowned at the message, it sounded plain and harmless enough but he wasn’t a total fool. He knew there was meaning to what he was being asked to say. “Alright, I’ll deliver it.”

He took a deep breath and looked at Hongjoong squarely, “If you get the chance…”

Hongjoong turned a brilliant smile on him, “Absolutely. I’m a man who takes every opportunity he gets.”

“After I deliver your message, I’ve got some business to attend to but I’ll come back to see you again.”

“You know,” he paused and then nodded, “I think I’d like that very much. I’ll look forward to it.”

Seonghwa bid Hongjoong farewell feeling both better and worse than he had when he had arrived. He now knew the truth of how he had come to be on the ship but now that he knew the truth, he couldn’t just let him sit in a cell until they hung him.

He followed the directions he had been given to the inn near the blacksmith. When he asked for Choi Jongho the man eyed him coolly until he said he had a message from his captain. He repeated it back to him word for word. “He would say that. Idiot.”

He looked Seonghwa up and down, “Why did he send you with it?”

“I told him I wanted to help him if I could. I don’t think he deserves to be executed, maybe some prison time but not executed.”

Choi Jongho laughed outright, “Hopefully, it won’t come to that. Thank you for the message.”

If the captain trusted him, he felt like he ought to extend him the same but the captain tended to fly by the seat of his pants sometimes and he was more cautious than that. He bid Seonghwa farewell and called together the other members of the crew to tell them about the captain’s message and then they all waited for Yunho and San to return to find out whether or not the guards were bribeable.

It was quite late when Seonghwa got time to go back to the jail. He should probably just wait until the morning but he didn’t want to leave Hongjoong waiting to know that his message had been delivered, assuming it was as important as he thought it might be. Much to his surprise not only was the door unlocked but there were no guards to be seen. Did they go home at night? That would be strange wouldn’t it? It wasn’t as if they had a lot of prisoners to watch but what if something happened? What if someone escaped? Although, in this case, he wished someone would escape. If it was empty and the keys were nearby...Yes, he would let him out.

If his men were here then that meant that his ship was here and they could escape. The captain would be livid if Hongjoong escaped but he didn’t care about the fragile ego of one vindictive old man who spent three years chasing someone because of one lost ship when he owned a whole fleet.

Seonghwa turned back to look at the open guardhouse door when he heard a sound behind him. He turned to see Hongjoong and then just as suddenly, he felt the other man’s lips close on his, his hand reaching up to cup Seonghwa’s cheek. He was too startled to remember to respond or push him away or react at all. He felt the hot wet brush of his tongue against his lips before he pulled away.

All he could manage was to gape at the shorter man who had just kissed him. Finally he managed, “You’re out.”

Hongjoong smiled, “I am and I’m getting out of here. Wanna come with me?”

“With you?”

“Whether you're coming with me or not, let’s get out of here. The guards won’t be gone forever.” Hongjoong grabbed Seonghwa’s hand and tugged him out of the guardhouse and toward the docks. As they walked, Seonghwa looked down at their still joined hands in total bemusement. He didn’t know what to do or say but he did notice when a man intercepted them.

“Captain.”

“San, is the ship ready?”

“Sort of.”

“I can’t really linger around these parts, we need to go - Now.”

“We had more damage from the storm than we realized and by the time we got into port… There’s no way the shipwright can have the repairs finished by the time we needed so…” San gestured for the pair to follow him. He spared a glance at Seonghwa, wondering if that was the man who had delivered the captain’s message to Jongho.

If the captain thought he was good to join the crew then it was alright by him. The more the merrier. However, the way they were holding hands made him think it might be something else. He guided them to the docks and right to Seonghwa’s ship. Seonghwa stopped before following up the gangplank when Hongjoong pulled up to a stop, “Are you serious?”

“It really was the best option,” said San.

“And Yunho was feeling vindictive.” said another man who was a little shorter than San and bore an open smile. “It’s good to have you back captain. If you ever do anything like that again, I’ll keelhaul you myself.”

Hongjoong laughed, “It’s good to see you too Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung grabbed Hongjoong up in a warm hug and squeezed him tight. Hongjoong gave a little squeak at the force with which he was hugged.

“Where’s the crew?” Hongjoong asked as he canted his head toward the ship.

“Shore leave.” commented Seonghwa. All heads turned to look at him questioningly.

“This is Park Seonghwa, he was the first mate on this ship but he’ll be joining us now. Right?” He turned to look at Seonghwa.

Finally Seonghwa snapped out of the haze that he had been pitched into when Hongjoong kissed him. “I-”

Did he want to go with them? It surely meant being hunted, they were wanted men after all. Hongjoong was an escaped prisoner, a thief, a pirate, and who knew what else. Yet he was thinking about it, seriously.

“Go on, I’ll catch up.” Hongjoong said to the assembled men before he turned back to Seonghwa. “Are you scared?”

“Yes.”

“But you want to.”

“Yes.”

“Well then there’s only one thing to do, come with us and you can say you were asleep in your room when we took the ship, so we accidentally kidnapped you. If you change your mind later, then we can let you off at the next port of call.” Not waiting to see if Seonghwa agreed with him or not, Hongjoong grabbed his hand again and dragged him behind him up the gangplank.

“Captain.” Yunho walked out onto the deck and smiled broadly.

“How much did it cost?” Hongjoong asked.

“They really should pay their guards more because it didn’t even take a quarter of our last haul to see to it that they found something else to do for half an hour.”

Hongjoong nodded, “Good, good if everyone’s on board, let’s shove off shall we?”

“Aye, aye captain.” Yunho turned and began to bark out orders. The men all jumped to and began to make way to set sail.

“By the way Yunho…”

Yunho stopped what he was doing and turned to look at his captain.

“Thank you.”

Yunho smiled and nodded, “You’re welcome. It’s good to have you back captain.”

“It’s good to be back. This is Park Seonghwa, he’ll - hopefully, be joining us permanently. He was the first mate of this ship but I think he needs a little time to get to know us first… or maybe just me. Seonghwa, this is my first mate Jeong Yunho. After we get out of here, I’ll take you around and introduce you to everyone. We’ve got some really good people on this ship.”

“Energetic people.” Yunho added with a touch of mirth.

“Maybe we have too much energy.” Hongjoong posited.

Yunho snickered and went back to work. As they cleared the harbor, the town bells sounded, likely announcing that there had been an escape. Hongjoong turned to Seonghwa, “Want to show me around? Show me the captain’s quarters. I know the brig well enough, it’ll be nice to see the rest of the ship.”

Seonghwa still wasn’t quite sure this all felt real. One minute he had been trying to think of the best way to help Hongjoong escape, the next minute he was on a stolen ship making their escape. Then it occurred to him exactly what they had just done. They had stolen yet another ship from the man who had spent three years chasing him down for having stolen his ship.

Would he immediately outfit another ship and give chase again? He knew that his wife held the purse strings and she wanted him back home. Somehow he couldn’t imagine her sanctioning another three year long wild goose chase. He was likewise sure that Hongjoong wouldn’t allow himself to be caught again so easily, unless his men were on the line again. That didn’t seem like the kind of situation that happened more than once. The real question was, now what was he doing here? Was he perhaps infatuated with the dashing pirate? That was the only reason he could think of that he had accepted the offer of joining them as a trial run. His family was going to kill him if he became a pirate. He was supposed to take a few years out to sea and then come home and learn the family business with his brother, not take up piracy because he had a crush on a pirate.

“Sure,” he said after perhaps too long of a pause. “I’ll give you a tour, we can start at the bottom and work our way up.”

Fifteen minutes later they were standing at the door to the captain’s quarters. The door was locked but Seonghwa had the key.

“I guess he trusted you.” Hongjoong commented as he watched Seonghwa unlock the door.

That gave him a pang of guilt as he pushed the door open, “He offered me the captaincy of this ship after they took you away.”

“So I stole your ship?” Hongjoong asked as he followed Seonghwa into the room and closed the door behind them. It was poshly appointed. The furnishings were over the top in the extreme, it was as if the former captain was furnishing a mansion instead of a room on a ship. No wonder he had locked it.

“I hadn’t exactly taken control yet.” He said. It hadn’t actually sunk in yet that this ship was going to be his. Perhaps it was his ship that had been stolen but it didn’t feel that way.

“That’s not right, I don’t steal from friends.”

“Friends?”

“We are friends aren’t we?” Hongjoong took a step toward Seonghwa.

Seonghwa felt his heart pick up pace and he swallowed hard in a suddenly dry throat. “Are we?”

“Unless you want to be more…” Hongjoong reached out and brushed the backs of his fingers over Seonghwa’s cheek.

“What do you mean more?” Seonghwa’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat.

“I want to be your lover. You don’t know that already?” He asked.

Without really realizing he was doing it, Seonghwa took the final step forward, closing the distance between the two of them. There was nothing that separated them now. He leaned down, eyes intense as they met Hongjoong’s before he kissed him. The softness of their lips played together, their tongues met giving an electric thrill.

Seonghwa gave a small sound of pleasure as they sank into one another, their arms stealing around one another, bodies flush together. Their hands began to roam over each other. Seonghwa’s lips traveled down over Hongjoong’s jawline, down to his throat. He tasted his pulse thrumming against his lips, he scraped his teeth over the silken skin of his neck. “Why am I so captivated by you?”

“The same reason that I can’t get you out of my head.” Hongjoong gasped and sighed.

“I know the feeling, every time I close my eyes I see you, hear your voice, I can’t stop thinking about you. God you taste so good…” He leaned back in and reclaimed Hongjoong’s lips.

Running his hands up over Seonghwa’s stomach, he caught the material of his blouse and pulled it up, his fingers grazing against his bare skin as he did so. They traveled further, slipping under the soft linen as they moved over his bare chest, the slightly long tips of his nails raking over Seonghwa’s nipples. They tightened at the delicate scraping. A soft moan slipped between their joined lips, let out with a sigh.

Seonghwa pulled his jacket from his shoulders and let it drop at their feet, Hongjoong caught his shirt and pulled it up over his head, immediately dropping his head to rain kisses over his bare chest, to taste his skin.

Seonghwa moved to pull off Hongjoong’s clothes as Hongjoong worked at his partners’. They moved in concert back toward the bed, Seonghwa moving over the smaller man as they moved. The heat of their bodies grinding together, their cocks sliding together. Hongjoong reached between them, wrapping his fingers around their lengths, trapping them against one another as he stroked.

Seonghwa’s golden skin was beginning to glisten in the low lamp light. A drop of sweat trickled down over his smooth chest, running down to where their naked bodies pressed together. His kisses traversed their way down over Hongjoong’s chin, his throat, suckling and biting his nipples before continuing down. The muscles in his stomach trembled as Seonghwa’s lips brushed down over his ribs to his hip bones. Hongjoong squirmed, his hips rising up as Seonghwa’s beautiful lips wrapped around the head of his cock. His finger’s winding in Seonghwa’s thick dark locks, a heady sigh falling from his parted lips.

He had never wanted anyone so badly as he wanted Seonghwa and his body was on fire and Seonghwa’s touch were the flames that consumed him. He watched the way his lips glided over him, consuming him. He was so beautiful, their eyes met and Hongjoong smiled, “You’re going to make me cum if you keep that up.”

“Maybe I want you to cum… or maybe I just want to make you squirm.” Seonghwa smiled in return as he flicked his tongue against the sensitive underside of Hongjoong’s throbbing prick. Then quite suddenly, Seonghwa dropped his head down, pushing Hongjoong’s cock all the way to the back of his throat before bobbing his head up and down.

A sudden hiss and a sharp inhalation of breath as Hongjoong slammed his hands down against the bed, his hips arching upward without his bidding. His orgasm was ripped from him as he fucked back against Seonghwa’s face.

The first spurt of sticky sweet cum hit the back of Seonghwa’s throat as he sucked milking him for every last drop.

Slowly he let his lover’s cock slip from his lips as he crawled back up over his body. He caught Hongjoong’s lips in a sultry kiss before murmuring against him, “We need-...”

“I came prepared.” Hongjoong interjected before he turned and leaned over the side of the bed to capture his clothes. From a pouch tied to his belt, he produced a small corked bottle. As he wiggled back onto the bed, he held it up and shook it slightly.

“See?” He pulled the stopper and poured a liberal amount of oil into his palm and reached for Seonghwa’s swollen length. Seonghwa’s head fell back, throaty groan slipping past his full lips. He rested back on his hands, presenting himself for Hongjoong’s attentions.

The teasing smile was back on Hongjoong’s lips again as he lifted the bottle and poured some of the oil over Seonghwa’s chest and stomach, leaving him glistening as he ran his hands down, to return to stroking. He bowed his head to suckle Seonghwa’s balls and nibble the insides of his thighs. God he was so beautiful in the lamp light, his eyes filled with a universe of stars as he stared at him with unabashed lust, his golden skin aglow.

His breathing grew short, he could feel himself getting close so he reached out and caught Hongjoong’s hand and brought his fingers up to kiss them. “I want more than that now, I want you.”

Hongjoong licked his lips and nodded as he leaned into Seonghwa’s and kissed him. Seonghwa’s arm slipped around his waist as he leveraged Hongjoong back into the mass of pillows, slipping easily between his thighs. He buried his face against his throat and breathed, “I want to be inside you.”

Hongjoong gasped at the nip of teeth at his neck, he could feel Seonghwa’s cock sliding against him, not as eager as his words made him seem but slowly and methodically grinding against him. He wriggled against his touch as Seonghwa’s reached between their bodies and slid his slick, oiled fingers against him and into him.

“I’ve never done this before…” Hongjoong breathed. “But for you, I want you.”

Seonghwa raised his head and looked down at Hongjoong, instead of teasing or darkly lustful, there was supreme tenderness and affection. “I’ll go slow.”

As he promised, he slowly worked against him not going any further than his virgin’s body was ready for. Incrementally, Hongjoong began to relax beneath him. Only when almost all resistance was gone did he begin to enter him. Jesus, so hot, so tight. As he hilted himself he let out a sigh and for a lingering moment, he just held still, “Are you alright?”

Hongjoong nodded, “Yes.”

While the slow entry had spared him any discomfort, it had driven him slowly insane so that now he would have killed any man who dared to try to separate them. “Now fuck me.”

Seonghwa’s tongue flicked out to lap at Hongjoong’s lips before he languidly and fluidly began to move. “As you command.”

With little rolling lifts of his hips, Hongjoong rose to meet each and every thrust. His lover’s cock stimulated something deep inside of him, driving him nearly wild. They moved together, their pace increasing with a shared urgency.

Hongjoong’s fingers dug into Seonghwa’s back, leaving small crescent indentations. His balls tightened as molten sugar unwound in his stomach, slowly reaching its burning tendrils through him. The first spasm forced him to slam his head back into the pillow, the second brought a cry as his cum shot up between their joined bodies. Seonghwa’s arms sealed around him as he began to fuck him with ferocity. Each thrust brought a deep guttural growl, his cock swelled, balls tightened, and then he came, filling his lover with wave after wave of his seed.

For a lingering moment, they lay still, both lost in their own little world of pleasure. Seonghwa was the first to move, turning his head to pepper Hongjoong’s neck and ear with little kisses. Eventually, he sighed and rolled off to the side, grabbing a pillow and tucking it behind his head as he pulled Hongjoong into his arms. Hongjoong took a deep breath and let it out in a rush as he laid his head on the pillow beside Seonghwa.

“I think,” Hongjoong began as he adjusted himself in the bed. “I’m glad this all happened. Sure I had to spend a few days in a jail cell but I got you.”

Seonghwa chuckled and let his eyes fall shut. He hadn’t realized exactly how stressed he had been, not until he felt the last of that stress flow out of him with his orgasm. “My new captain is making me feel quite welcome indeed.”

“Are you sure you can do it?” Hongjoong lifted his head and looked at Seonghwa seriously.

“Do what?” He reached up and ran his long, slender fingers over Hongjoong’s sweaty hair and face.

“Piracy.” While he had no doubts that Seonghwa would stay with him if he asked him to, he wanted to make sure that it was actually something that he wanted. He was equally sure he had the other man’s affections but was this life really what he wanted or had he allowed himself to be swept away.

Seonghwa bit the corner of his bottom lip thoughtfully, “I don’t know, really. I never thought I would become a pirate. I also never thought I’d help a fugitive escape jail and a hanging and then steal my ship.”

“Take some time and think it over.” Hongjoong sighed and laid back down. “It’s late and being in a comfortable bed reminds me of how little sleep I’ve had the last few days. It’s late, what say you we get some sleep?”

“Alright.” Seonghwa hadn’t really been giving any thought to his predicament. He had, as Hongjoong thought, just allowed himself to be buoyed along. Now that he had time to think about it, would he be able to do it? He wasn’t a fighter, he never had been and had only fought when his life had deemed it necessary and that wasn’t more than a couple of times. What would it do to his family? He was quite close with his family and he didn’t want to hurt them.

There was another matter, he was quite sure he was falling in love with Hongjoong at breakneck speed. If he were to stay with him, he would hurt his family and perhaps shorten his life. If he were to leave then… then he would break his heart? He wanted nothing more than to give into his heart but what should he do? It was the same thoughts chasing each other around his brain until he finally fell asleep in the small hours of the morning.

He awoke early as he felt Hongjoong slipping out of his arms. He opened his tired eyes to see the other man smiling down at him before brushing a kiss across his lips and whispering, “Go back to sleep, you deserve it.”

Seonghwa didn’t argue. His eyes were already closed before Hongjoong’s feet hit the floor and he was already returning to slumber before he reached the door.

Yunho gave him a look as he sat down at the officer’s table, a knowing smile on his lips.

“What?” Hongjoong asked the younger man.

“Me? I didn’t say a word.”

It was obvious from the expressions on the faces of the assembled men that the entire crew probably knew but none of them seemed inclined to ask the questions. Silent smirks and two looks of feigned innocence, one from San and the other from Mingi, were all Hongjoong received as he looked down the table.

“So!” Jongho broke the silence, “What position is our new crewman going to have? Yunho is the first mate, that’s not to say you couldn’t have two first mates… I think I heard Park Seonghwa was supposed to be captain of this ship?”

Hongjoong’s own smile faded a little at that. He wanted Seonghwa to stay but he wasn’t sure he should. Most of the men under his command had come to him from other pirate vessels or had their own situations that made serving with him ideal. Seonghwa’s situation was quite different and as much as he wanted to keep him with him, he wasn’t sure it was best for him. The thought of letting him go twisted his heart into knots. He had never been in love before but he was getting dangerously close to loving Park Seonghwa. Maybe he already did, it was hard to say never having felt this way before. Sure he had slacked his lusts but love? Never.

“What new crewman?” Mingi asked.

All of the heads at the table turned to look at him.

“The new crewman who came aboard with the captain last night.” Wooyoung answered.

“I didn’t see him. Where is he now?” Mingi asked for more information.

Yunho dropped his head into his hand and Wooyoung’s grin grew a little wider as he decided to answer again, “I imagine he’s still in the captain’s quarters.”

Yunho peeked up at Mingi through his fingers as if to beg him with his eyes alone to cease his line of questioning before it got uncomfortable.

Mingi started to open his mouth when he yelped in pain. He was seated at the end of the table between Yeosang and Wooyoung. He shot a look at Yeosang who was an expert at looking like a beautiful serene statue. Whatever he had done, his expression hadn’t changed but Mingi seemed to get the hint. He reached under the table and rubbed at his leg.

Hongjoong shook his head, “We can decide that, if he decides to stay. I’m not sure he will yet.”

“Why wouldn’t he stay?” San asked curiously.

“I’m not sure he’s cut out for the pirate’s life. He’s got a good family, a good job if he wants it.” Hongjoong shrugged and reached for his breakfast.

San straightened his spine as he said, “We’ve got the best family.”

All of the men hurrahed at that and breakfast settled down into something more normal… and boisterous.

The next three weeks were like a dream for Seonghwa. He sailed with the men of the Treasure, spent his days working beside them, spent his nights with the man he had come to love but there was a growing unease. He knew that Hongjoong was avoiding other ships but he was a pirate and he couldn’t avoid other ships forever. The men were looking forward to their next great haul. Hongjoong was not just a pirate but a successful one and the day they rather accidentally ran into some low hanging fruit was the day he knew.

Seonghwa stood outside the door listening as he heard Yunho and Hongjoong arguing about the validity of the target, a poorly defended merchantman carrying fewer than 8 guns. He knew Hongjoong was avoiding getting into any scrapes to protect him, he couldn’t let him keep doing it. A very angry looking Yunho stormed out of the captain’s room and he went in. “You should take it.”

Hongjoong didn’t look up from the map he was looking at, “Why’s that?”

“Because the only reason you haven’t already gone for it is because of me. The men are restless as it is. You can’t keep avoiding it because you think I can’t take it. This is, as much as we might like to have it otherwise, a pirate’s ship and you are a pirate. If I’m to stay with you, I have to learn to live with this part of life. If I can’t do it then…” Seonghwa let his words trail off, a knot forming in his throat.

Hongjoong finally looked up and met Seonghwa’s eyes and sighed. He was determined. Hongjoong was silent for a long moment before he nodded and walked over to Seonghwa and kissed him. “Alright, tell the men.”

Seonghwa clung to Hongjoong for a lingering moment before he turned and briskly walked out of the cabin. The next few minutes were an absolute whirlwind of activity. All of the usual silliness, chaos and levity were gone and they became a force of nature. They were focused and deadly accurate. They carried out the strike perfectly. Seonghwa watched with a semi-detached air. Could he do this? The first thing that hit him was the thrill, the exhilaration but he wasn’t sure.

The two ships collided. The men from the Treasure poured onto the decks of other ship. Blades clashed and the men of the Treasure worked as a well oil machine. Hongjoong found their captain readily, he was old but still defiant as they crossed blades. What he lacked in youth, he made up for in sheer bloody mindedness. He concentrated as he fought the captain, there wasn’t a man alive who wouldn’t tell you his next move if you were attentive.

There! Hongjoong feinted to the left as his opponent made a move to block but he left himself open. He struck, bringing him down. Just as he struck he heard a voice yell, “No!”

The rapport of a pistol shot rang out across the deck and momentarily all fell silent. Directly behind Hongjoong, a man lay supine. He had been just inches away from burying his blade in the pirate captain’s back. Seonghwa stood with perfect form, holding his pistol, smoke wafting up from the tip.

Seonghwa had just saved Hongjoong’s life.

The men were elated with the booty they had looted, it was far more than anyone expected. The casks were opened and the alcohol poured freely as the men rejoiced.

Seonghwa sat silently in the captain’s quarters in the dark. He hadn’t even realized that the sun had set, so deeply lost in thought was he. It wasn’t the first time he had killed a man and he had done it in defense of another. He didn’t feel badly about it and that was what bothered him. The captain had been the only man who had died today but he wouldn’t be the last. Every single man of the Treasure would fight to the last to protect one another and their way of life. They loved it, they thrived on it. He too had felt the touch of exhilaration, the rush of blood in his veins. The only thing that came close was making love with Hongjoong.

He knew he could do it. He knew he would grow to love it if he stayed. That was what scared him.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

A voice yanked him from his quiet reverie. “Oh, yes.”

“We’re headed in, we should make port in about eight days.”

“Eight days? I didn’t think we were that far from shore.”

“We aren’t but I thought it might be nice for you to go home, see your family.” Hongjoong didn’t put on a lamp, but just walked over to stand behind Seonghwa’s chair, putting an arm around his shoulders.

“I see.”

The silence was thick and heavy between them but neither seemed inclined to break it.

“How did you know?” Seonghwa asked at long last.

“One of the things I love best about you is your tender heart. What kind of man would I be if I destroyed the one of the things that I loved best about you?” Hongjoong’s voice was barely above a whisper but it carried in the darkened space.

“Promise me something.” Seonghwa said as he turned to look up at the moonlight kissed visage of the man he loved.

Hongjoong cocked his head slightly to one side, reaching to run his fingers over Seonghwa’s hair, “What’s that?”

“Promise me that if you ever decide to retire from piracy that you’ll come find me.”

Hongjoong smiled and drew a slow breath, “I will come find you.”

“Bring the rest of the crew too, we always need more hands.”

“You’re part of the crew. They’ve grown as fond of you as I have.”

“Have they really?”

“Well, maybe not quite as fond as I have.” Hongjoong turned his head and pressed a kiss to Seonghwa’s cheek.

Seonghwa closed his eyes and concentrated on the warmth of that small kiss. Eight days…

***

Seonghwa stood on the cliff by his family home looking out toward the sea. It had been three years to the day since he had said farewell to the crew of the Treasure and its exceptional captain. He hadn’t really known whether he would see Hongjoong again and he regretted his choice everyday. Now with three years between him and the roguish captain’s smile, he could see clearly. Life only gives you chances at real love maybe once if you’re lucky.

He had his chance and he had surrendered it because he was afraid of change, because he was afraid of the lifestyle. He had been wrong and now there was no way to go back and change it.

Hot tears trickled down his cold cheeks and he sniffed before reaching up to wipe them away. He knew now he would never see Hongjoong again and he had to live with that, as much as it hurt him everyday.

“Can’t you find him?”

Seonghwa turned and saw his mother standing behind him. She was the only one he had ever told the truth about his ‘accidental kidnapping’. The only one he had ever told the truth about the only love he would ever have. Not entirely trusting himself to speak, he shook his head before looking back at the sea.

“You don’t have to go through with this you know. I know your father is pressuring you and Soojin is a nice girl but…” His mother sighed. The wedding was in two days and she had tried to talk Seonghwa’s father out of it but he didn’t see the problem. Seonghwa was a good looking, polite boy from a good family. Soojin was a good looking, polite girl from a good family. They made for a good match and they seemed to like each other as friends at least. It was as good of a start for a marriage as any, so her husband thought. It was better than the beginnings of most marriages these days. She understood his reasoning but he hadn’t been the one to hold Seonghwa as he cried his heart out as he explained what happened.

She knew it wasn’t as if you could just post a letter to a pirate. If she could see his broken heart mended, she would go find this pirate herself and send her son to him but she didn’t know any better how to find a man who was constantly on the move and didn’t want to be found any better than her son did.

“Come on, let’s go inside. You’ll catch a cold and you don’t want to catch a cold right before your wedding.” She caught Seonghwa’s hand and he gave one last lingering look at the horizon before turning to dutifully follow after his mother.

“Why don’t you go down to the market and buy some of those buns you and I both love?” His mother suggested to take his mind off of things.

“Why don’t you come with me, mother.”

“Your father will be home soon, I wanted to talk to him when he gets home.”

“You’re going to try to talk him out of the wedding again aren’t you?” he asked with a sad smile.

“I’ll talk to him about what I’ll talk to him about. If it was for your ears, I would ask you to be there. Now shoo.” She swatted his behind lightly and bodily shoved him off toward the market while she stood watching him go.

The market was bustling, he had to squeeze his way between bodies to make his way to the vendor he was looking for. Someone bumped into him without apologizing or even slowing down. They hit him hard too. He turned and caught a glimpse of a familiar face, Choi Jongho? No, it couldn’t possibly be. He turned and tried to follow after the man, trying to push through the throngs of people who were all trying to go in the opposite direction. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t make any leeway. He finally caught a pocket of space and managed to break through. He raced after the man he thought he had seen and caught up to someone wearing a jacket the same color as who he thought he had seen. The man turned and it wasn’t him.

Of course it wouldn’t be.

It was all he could do to keep from breaking down there in the middle of the market. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He turned around and made his way back to the vendor who was selling the buns he had been sent to buy. He wasn’t hungry anymore but his mother wanted them. The entire way home, he scanned the faces of the crowds of people around him. Surely who he had seen had just had a resemblance to his old friend.

He realized how much he missed them then, not just the love of his life but the entire crew. He had grown close to them all and it felt just as much home to him as the place where he had grown up.

What a fool he had been.

The entire next day, he moved through a haze. It didn’t feel like he was going to get married. He liked Soojin, she was a nice girl but she never could or would be the one he loved. Yet he would do what his father wanted him to. Maybe she could help him find some kind of, if not happiness then contentment.

His wedding day dawned bright and early. The families had planned the wedding for the late morning. He honestly hadn’t been too bothered by it one way or another. Actually, he hadn’t really cared about any of the wedding arrangements and only nominally cared about the choice of the bride. He checked the time and got dressed. He was just checking the mirror before heading out when a sound caught his attention. It sounded like someone saying, “Sorry about this.”

Just as he started to turn, there was a sharp and sudden pain behind his left ear and consciousness faded. The last thing he saw was the ground rushing up to greet him.

When he opened his eyes, it was dark but the room was warmly lit with lamp light and candlelight. At first, he had no idea where he was. There was something familiar though, a scent, old paper, candle wax, the tang of the sea. No. He had to be dreaming there was no way.

“How’s your head?”

Very slowly, he turned to see Hongjoong sitting beside him. His jaw slowly dropped open and he stared open mouthed at the very man he had been dreaming of for the past three years. “Hongjoong?”

“I’m glad you remember me. I would be heartbroken to think we had gone to all of this trouble and you didn’t even remember me.”

“Like I could ever forget you.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Hongjoong smiled and put down the book he had been reading.

“Wait.”

“Hm?”

“You kidnapped me!” Seonghwa accused.

“Well, technically I didn’t do it. San, Jongho, and Yeosang kidnapped you but I did ask them to and I was in on the planning. I was on the distraction team, I didn’t think I could hit you.” He reached out and gingerly brushed his fingers over Seonghwa’s hair.

“Why did you kidnap me?” Seonghwa asked, wholly bemused.

“When I found out you were getting married, I wasn’t sure that you would walk away from it. You know I can be a little impetuous sometimes and I’ll be honest, I was a little hurt.”

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. It’s been three years…”

Hongjoong winced, “I know but I wanted to be sure that I was the man I wanted you to come back to… and I love you.”

“Hongjoong…”

“I’ll be completely honest, I was so hurt I was ready to walk away and let you get married. Wooyoung was the one who decided we needed to kidnap you, for your own good. If you want to go back then we can take you back. If you want to stay-”

“I want to stay. I know I was wrong, there hasn’t been a day I haven’t regretted the choice I made. I missed you, every minute of every day. Every night I would lay in my bed wishing I could turn back the clock to make my choice again. If I could have, I would have never walked off of this boat.”

“Are you sure?” Hongjoong asked leaning forward, elbows on his knees.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything. I want to be here. I want to be with you. I want … I want the ocean, I want to sail the world beside you. I want to be part of this family.”

A slow smile curved Hongjoong’s lips and he blinked his eyes, overbright with unshed emotion. “How dare you try to make me cry.”

“I’m not trying to make you cry.” Seonghwa said innocently.

“I know, that makes it worse.” Hongjoong drew a shaky breath and reached out for Seonghwa’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being on my side, for wanting to be with me.” He leaned in, their noses almost touching.

Seonghwa squeezed Hongjoong’s small hand in his, he leaned further, closing the distance between them, sealing Hongjoong’s lips with his. God how he missed the taste of him, the smell of him, the feel of him. He tasted tears, he wasn’t sure to whom the tears belonged but he didn’t want to stop kissing him, not ever.

“This is only the beginning,” whispered Hongjoong against Seonghwa’s lips.

Seonghwa smiled, his eyes still closed. “Here’s to our beginning.”

Again their lips came together, Seonghwa reaching up, his fingers slipping into Hongjoong’s wild locks, pulling him closer. Hongjoong rose and climbed into the bed beside his lover.

“I missed you so much.” Hongjoong murmured into their kiss.

“I’ll never leave your side again.”

“You better not, I’ll just have to kidnap you back again.” he teased with a nip of Seonghwa’s lips.

“Who knows, I might start to like it.”

Their lips, their bodies, their destiny came together in joy and love.

NOTE: Other words can be found on my master list.

#ateez #ateez imagine #Ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #seongjoong #honghwa #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez smut and fluff #kpop smut #kpop imagine

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rabble-dabble · 3 years

Text

The Cancer King's Court ~ The Vengeful Storm

Sollux Captor/The Vengeful Storm

This version of Sollux lived a life nearly identical to his canon counterpart up until one specific moment. During his fight with Eridan in the session, Feferi tries to interupt. This distraction allows Eridan to get a hit in, killing Sollux. Feferi chases Eridan off in a rage, before taking Sollux to his quest bed to revive him.

Now that he’s God-Tier, Sollux is able to obliterate Eridan once he turns traitor on the meteor. This results in him and Feferi surviving the game, as they’re able to make it to Earth C without to much fuss from there.

He settles into a peaceful life with Feferi and Aradia from there, with the three of them settling into a quiet pseudo-routine. Whether it be Sollux not batting an eye as Aradia throws a corpse party in the backyard, or Feferi dragging Sollux’s boney ass to bed when she catches him playing video games at three in the morning, things wind up becoming a strange sort of normal.

The three of them never wonder what their relationship is exactly and no one else really asks. Except Karkat, who thinks he knows exactly what their relationship is and boasts about that fact whenever it comes up. Ironic, seeing as he’s completely oblivious to John’s flirting. Sollux, Aradia, and Feferi have started a betting pool to see how long it takes him to notice.

All is well… until The Condescension comes back.

The forces of The Condescension have been spreading across Paradox Space from the main timeline, slaughtering civilizations and rounding up their remaining populations to be consumed by the HIC. Entire timelines had fallen before her gluttony and this timeline was next on the chopping block.

Sollux’s only warning was when he heard Feferi’s voice in his head.

Sollux was swiftly captured by the invasion force and brought before The Condescension. HIC recognizes him as the descendant of her beloved Helmsman and has him strapped in to her ship. Has Sollux is dragged into the engine room, he passes dozens of versions of himself, his ancestor, and Mituna. Some of them are just shriveled up and mindless husks. Others are still muttering the names of loved ones under their breath.

He lost count of how many were asking for Aradia and Feferi.

Sollux would lie there for decades, surrounded by broken versions of himself as his energy was sucked out of him. As the nights trickled on, he never heard Aradia’s voice. He never knew she was dead. It kept him going. Kept him sane until the day he was rescued.

The Holy Prince had united the timeline’s survivors into an army. He lead them to victory against the Condescension, forcing her armies out of the timeline. But not before he brought down one final warship.

Sollux opened his eyes for the first time in decades to see Aradia standing over him.

She was alive.

She was safe.

He was free.

…Until he heard her voice.

One final shrill gasp echoed in his head seconds before a drone shot Aradia dead.

Sollux tore the worship apart.

Eridan looked up to see a red and blue sky swirling over him, Sollux glaring down at him as the warship fell in flames. The only reason The Holy Prince didn’t get obliterated right there was because Sollux passed out from exhaustion soon afterwards.

Eridan brings Sollux to the King, who puts him in a bed to let him rest. Sollux spends the next few weeks being taken care of in recovery mode, with the Red Death and the Holy Prince helping him come to terms with his loss. Even the King makes time to visit him. The recovery is much more mental that it is physical. After all, Feferi can heal him up just fine. But trauma isn’t processed that easily.

Aradia and Feferi try to help. His interactions with them are strange. They’re still their usual chipper selves, but there’s something holding them back. It’s a grim reminder that these aren’t the same people he fell in love with. On the other hand, he finds himself actually liking this version of Eridan. He’s willing to take responsibility and he genuinely sympathizes with Sollux. That’s enough to get him forgiven in Sollux’s book, it just took a while for him to trust Eridan enough to see that.

After a few visits, Sollux asks whether they’re going to ask him to join their little group. He’s put together by this point that these guys aren’t all from the same timeline. Karkat explains their goal and Sollux says he wants in. “ii want my mate2priite2 back. and ii want two make her pay.”

Sollux is a one man army. Telekinetically ripping apart battle fleets and tossing around continents. His god-like power obliterating the Condescension’s forces with ease. Eridan is the scalpel. Sollux is the hammer.

He has an uneasy relationship with this version of Aradia and Feferi. He gets along well enough with Feferi, but she’s just a bit… off. She’s so close to the Feferi from Sollux’s timeline, but not quite. It feels weird, but they still get along well enough. Same goes with Aradia, but with an added wrinkle.

Aradia is unnerved by how vengeful and vindictive this Sollux is. Yes, he has every reason to be pissed and HIC needs to die anyways, but Aradia is still worried about him going to far. Revenge blackens the soul. She knows that first hand. She doesn’t want to see Sollux experience that too.

Tavros, conversely, eggs Sollux on. He deserves his revenge, he deserves his happy ending. Tavros knows what it’s like to be robbed and he encourages Sollux to do whatever he can to get even. The two end up as close friends as a result. Which, by extension, makes him close friends with Gamzee. Those two have a mutual respect for each other as some of the strongest members of the team.

Ironically enough, Eridan ends up reigning Sollux in a lot of the time, almost to the point of being pale. Sollux actually has a huge amount of respect for Eridan finally dropping the attitude so he’s far more inclined to listen to his advice. That said, he’s still Eridan’s opposite. He ends up being an unintentionally corrupting influence on Karkat, showing by example that being less restrained gets more done.

The Vengeful Storm is a weapon of mass destruction, a force of nature few can match, and a thoroughly unfettered individual who will do whatever it takes to get the job done. If you anger the King, get below ground. You will not survive the coming Vengeful Storm.

now hear me out

i am willingly okay with sollux having the ability to Go Apeshit ™

also sollux friendship with tavros, ALSO going Apeshit ™?

HMMMMMMM MY FRIEND YOU JUST FED ME UNLIKE THE ANGST YOU THINK YOU’VE MIGHT’VE INSTILLED IN ME FOR THE PAST THREE CANCER KING KARKAT POSTS

anyways I went with something akin to sollux’s quirks - red and blue, white and black, and his modified messed up god tier outfit - I consider that with his powers and his drive he’d kinda end up messing up the damn thing in one or two or more fights. also not to toot my own horn but the electric lighting was a last minute idea and i fucking LOVE it.

23 notes · View notes

atinytokki · 3 years

Text

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Chapter 6: Friendly Fire

The sun was high and bright but still the winds whipping around the Indeok were numbingly cold.

It had been a few weeks since leaving Kon and finally they were meeting the Black Crow about halfway to the colonies. When Wooyoung wondered why, it fell once again to his brother to investigate for him.

“The Admiral has someone on board who knows the eastern waters better,” he explained in a hush voice while they stood on the main deck with everyone else, summoned to greet their eminent commander. “All Kim’s orders derive from the strategist’s expertise— Lucky, I think the men called him.”

“A special strategist?” Wooyoung scoffed. “Isn’t plotting courses supposed to be Navigator Kang’s job?”

“Look, I don’t question these things.” Woosung said testily. “Ask your sailing master friend, since he seems to know so much.”

Wooyoung scoffed and went to shove his brother for being jealous of Yeosang, but remembered they were in public and supposedly unacquainted, so refrained.

“I think I will do just that,” he whispered back before shuffling over to the stairs. Yeosang was always posted on the quarterdeck or in his cabin, observing the strict hierarchy that placed him above the common sailor, but he saw Wooyoung coming and moved to where he could speak quietly to him.

“Is there any merit to this?” Wooyoung asked when the captain wasn’t looking. “That someone else is calling the shots?”

“I doubt the Admiral would want it to be known if that was the case,” Yeosang argued, not turning around but keeping his eyes focused on the backs of his superiors. “But men will talk.”

The rest of the fleet was a day or so behind them, so the Indeok’s arrival was extremely fortunate. The northwestern colony of Kibo was on the horizon, and two Haemin ships were already lingering around it.

“Only two of them, true to form,” Lieutenant Yoo sighed from the quarterdeck in Yeosang’s general direction before calling for the anchor to be dropped.

The Indeok came to a halt alongside the Black Crow.

“Do any among you speak their language?” Came a familiar call from the decks of the warship.

Lieutenant Byun.

Yeosang and Wooyoung both tensed and looked away, Wooyoung shrinking back and blending in with the soldiers on the main deck again.

“I do,” Lieutenant Yoo spoke up. It explained why he was first lieutenant of the Indeok, if Yeosang thought about it. That was a skill that could come in handy.

He went to the rail and spoke for a moment with Byun before being lowered in a boat and rowing himself over to the Haemin ships.

He was attempting to reach a settlement before they began fighting.

It was only good manners after all.

Predictably, he came back a few minutes later and resumed his post, reporting to Byun and the other Black Crow officers and allowing them to proceed with readying their cannons.

Wooyoung sighed and got to work.

“Have you been in battle, Mr. Kang?”

The navigator startled and turned to bow to Yoo, who appeared to be addressing him.

“Not... Not quite like this.” He had dealt with his fair share of skirmishes and close calls all over the world in his travels, but this lieutenant didn’t need to know that.

“Fair,” the man sighed, and it pulled at Yeosang’s heart a little bit. From the looks of things, he was just another unwilling soldier. “I never thought we’d see war with Haemin in our time. The assassination was so unexpected. But we’ve got to make them pay, haven’t we?”

The final remark gave Yeosang pause.

There was no rallying cry. If not for Yoo Dojoon’s declaration, Yeosang would have no idea what they were fighting for.

For glory? For revenge? For the defence of lands they claimed as theirs?

“For peace,” he finally said. Because that was what he strived for at the end of the day.

Another gust of wind hit the quarterdeck hard and Yeosang gripped the railing even harder, pulling his coat closer around his shivering form.

“Oh, perfect,” Lieutenant Yoo groaned, pointing at the horizon.

Another ship had joined their enemy’s.

Now they were outnumbered.

...

San fought to reach Jongho, and he fought hard.

They were yelling at him to get back, it was a phrase he’d heard enough times to deduce the meaning, and he struggled against them before finally going slack. There was no point in causing a scene if he and Jongho were going to end up in the same place anyway.

“He’s hurt, let me help him!” He screamed at his translator, whose face was set in a stern frown.

“He’s our enemy,” the officer reminded San calmly, before taking him by the arms and pulling him up. “Get back to the brig.”

San sent a forlorn glance in Jongho’s direction. He lay there, blood dripping from his head completely untended, while the soldiers fiddled with his chains, trying to make them tight enough.

They would have to be secure to hold Jongho.

“Now!” The translator snapped, pushing San back in the direction of the prison hold and smacking him over the head for good measure.

It was a much gentler slap than San had come to expect from these barbarians.

“How did you escape?” The man asked, clearly frustrated, as he chained San to the floor again. His vocabulary was expanding, just like San’s, a mutual benefit. San refused to answer and rather than press the matter, the officer simply sighed and got to his feet. “Ready for battle. We sail west.”

It was disappointing, because San had grown a bit of a soft spot for this translator, the only man on the ship with even the slightest bit of patience toward him, but a soft spot was no alliance.

It was a mistake.

He had his duties, and San had his.

A few minutes later, Jongho was dragged in and chained up right next to him. A small mercy, but an important one.

All San could do was dab at the blood with a ripped off section of fabric from his shirt, but after a couple of touches, Jongho awoke.

His eyes were unfocused and he looked to be in pain, but he tried to glance around and take in his surroundings.

“Oh, Jongho,” San cooed tenderly. The younger boy startled and took in a shaky breath. “You’re alright, you’re alright. I’ll take care of you.”

Jongho’s brow was furrowed, probably confused at how San could possibly be there with him. “What happened?” He croaked out hesitantly.

“You were in an explosion,” San explained. “I think you caught the Haemin soldiers off guard.”

He could tell exactly what had happened from Jongho’s wounds alone.

The tower had been blown, and he must have been facing a ledge on the other side, from the wounds around the crown of his head and the burns on the back of his arms. He seemed out of breath, too, likely from the fall.

“We’re prisoners, but at least we’re together,” he concluded.

Jongho’s eyes blew wide in sudden realisation. “Oh no... Seonghwa, Mingi, Yunho, and Maddox... they’ll be wondering what happened to me.”

San froze and turned back to the porthole. They were too far away from the island now to see if the ATEEZ was there. “You were with them? They’re alright?”

“Yes,” Jongho told him with a gentle smile. “We managed to find each other but you... San, we had no idea what happened to you. I can’t believe you’ve been imprisoned on a Haemin ship this whole time.”

“Well, more or less. Please, Jongho,” San’s eyes brimmed with thankful tears. “Tell me everything.”

...

Yunho sprinted across the beach and gathered Mingi in his arms.

“They took him,” the redhead was crying, groaning even louder as Yunho hoisted him up onto his back and made for the ship. “No... you can’t... they took him, they took Jongho!”

“I know,” Yunho gritted out, seething as he watched a rowboat reach the enemy ship and running the other way nonetheless. “But you’ve been shot in the head, Mingi.”

No answer came from him, and so Yunho pushed harder for the ATEEZ. He was seeing red, whether from the droplets of blood hitting the sand or from the anger that clouded his senses, he didn’t know.

Maddox and Seonghwa halted their progress where they were rowing back to the ship and helped pull the listless Mingi and a worn out Yunho into the longboat.

“Pull for the ATEEZ, as fast as you can,” Yunho ordered the quiet Maddox, watching anxiously as Seonghwa’s shaking hands inspected the bloody mess that was Mingi’s face.

From the curse under his breath, Yunho assumed it was pretty bad.

“It must have been a glancing shot,” Seonghwa explained, pushing back Mingi’s hair to give the others a better view. “The bullet’s not here. I think it hit the edge of his face and ricocheted bone fragments into his eye.”

Yunho swallowed back bile. “Do you think he’ll lose his vision?”

Seonghwa shook his head helplessly and passed Mingi up to the crew members as they hauled the boat up to the deck. “I don’t know. We need someone more knowledgeable to take a look at him.”

They needed San. And this time they hadn’t the slightest clue to his whereabouts.

“Hanbyeol!” Seonghwa called breathlessly to the crew member as he carried Mingi down to the abandoned infirmary. “I need help getting the bone shards out!”

What followed was a long and frightening process Yunho could only sit through, looking on as the two of them painstakingly plucked each bone fragment out of Mingi’s face and did their best to cover the wound before he lost more blood.

Only when their patient awoke would they know if he had retained his vision.

“I’ll find him an eyepatch,” Yunho volunteered, feeling restless and wanting to do something with himself.

Maddox snuck up on him while he rifled through spare fabric in the storerooms and gently tried to pry him away.

“Excuse me, sorry to interrupt but I need to ask for a heading.”

Of course, how could he have forgotten? Without Mingi taking care of it, Yunho supposed it was his responsibility.

“Tell the helmsman to follow the Haemin ship,” he ordered succinctly and continued looking for an acceptable fabric.

Maddox cleared his throat, and before Yunho could ask why he was still there, he went on with some unsolicited advice. “Respectfully, I must advise against.”

Yunho rounded on him angrily. “I don’t care what you think, respectfully, they captured Jongho so we’re hunting them down and taking him back.”

Maddox didn’t back down even a single step.

“Now isn’t the time for rash foolishness, it’s a prisoner of war ship, they’ll likely put him to work. He’s in no immediate danger.”

A breath for Yunho to work through what he was saying before he continued, “Mingi however, is. We need to make a strategic retreat.”

“Then how do you propose we find that ship again?” Seonghwa’s voice broke into their standoff, and both turned to see him standing in the doorway with a thoughtful expression on his face.

“It’s called the Paragon,” Maddox informed them both. “I got a good look at it while we rowed out. It’s turned west, likely for the colonies. When we’ve regrouped, we can look for it there. It’s your decision.”

Seonghwa shifted his gaze to Yunho with the question in his eyes, letting him speak for himself.

“Alright,” Yunho finally sighed. “Give the word, we turn east.” Maddox was on their side, he knew that. But the crushing defeat of gaining someone only to lose someone else weighed heavily on him.

Maddox slipped past Seonghwa to inform whoever was at the helm, and Yunho gave the prince another glance, wondering why he had ventured out of the infirmary.

“It’s Mingi,” he sighed, and Yunho pocketed the fabric he had selected. “He’s awake.”

...

The third time Admiral Kim heard Navigator Kang clear his throat and shuffle his feet nervously, he finally looked up at him to see why.

“May I suggest we return Lucky to his quarters?” He muttered, motioning at their approaching escort ship with a stiff jerk of the head. “My son is on the Indeok.”

Kim glowered momentarily but gave his permission, signalling Byun to take care of it.

The first lieutenant approached Park and Hongjoong where they were still in quiet but intense conversation at the starboard rail.

Before he could direct the prisoner to somewhere less conspicuous, Hongjoong rounded on him.

“Is Prince Seonghwa still aboard this ship?”

Lieutenant Byun cast a scolding glance at Lieutenant Park but addressed the prisoner coolly. “I need to get you below.”

“Is he aboard this ship?”

“He is not,” Byun muttered harshly, taking him by the arm and leading him to the upper gun deck. When they were out of the Admiral’s sights, he pulled Park aside to ask what the prisoner was going on about.

“I couldn’t hide it from him,” the lower lieutenant whined. “He knew the prince was aboard and now we’ve received word that Haemin is after him.”

“Keep it quiet,” Byun hissed before he headed back up to facilitate the Indeok as it joined them. “The last thing we need is the entire fleet thinking we’ve gone soft.”

Never mind the fact that it was true.

Park turned to where Hongjoong was staring at him and rolled his eyes. “You’re on the gun team for now I suppose. We’ve got to keep you away from prying eyes. Don’t try anything.”

Hongjoong immediately suspected the Admiral’s reasons but didn’t remark on it while Park finally removed his chains.

“The tailwind is too strong, you should adjust the sails,” he said dryly instead.

“You can’t even feel the wind,” Park scoffed. “We’re belowdecks.”

But a gust from behind a moment later proved the pirate’s point.

“I’ll go inform the Admiral,” the lieutenant sulked and turned to go.

And so began the wait.

Hongjoong wished the Crow could enter battle the same way the ATEEZ once had; with persistent singing and shrouded in mystery.

There was no real advantage that came with charging headlong into combat when they’d already been seen, except for maybe the exploitation of any underlying fear the Haemin soldiers were harbouring towards the deadliest ship in Jaecho’s navy.

He glanced around the deck and calculated their odds. He was placed on the port side of the upper gun deck with a few dozen silent gunners and their short range cannons, trembling almost imperceptibly except to one who could see right through them.

They looked at “Lucky” with wavering eyes.

“Don’t panic, our chances are good,” he encouraged them firmly. “We’re bigger and better armed, plus we’ve got an escort ship for support. We can take whatever they give us.”

The Black Crow drifted closer to the colony and their odds lowered a bit. Battle so close to the shore was never good, and unless the helmsman knew Kibo like the back of his hand it could become a major problem.

They stopped just close enough to begin firing and Hongjoong waited for Byun’s order to come.

It was deathly quiet, with only the ghostly howl of the wind and the deep creaking of a colossal ship weathering the waves.

Then the order came.

“Fire at will!”

The boom of haphazard cannon blasts shook the deck and the gun teams stumbled back briefly before moving into formation.

They had each step of the process practiced and perfected, they only needed someone to tell them where to fire and when. So that was what Hongjoong did.

In the pause of reloading, the nearest Haemin ship finally shot off a volley. It was grapeshot, and judging from the screams that came from the upper decks, it had found its mark.

Their second round tore a hole in the enemy’s gun deck but wasn’t enough to sink the ship.

“Hit them below the water line!” Hongjoong yelled so that everyone facing the port side could hear over the screams and splashes of bodies falling into the sea. His orders went unquestioned, all the gunners immediately pointing their cannon muzzles down so that their shots did real damage.

“Hold your fire!” He called, raising his hand and keeping it midair while he waited for them to drift just a little further, so the enemy’s broadsides were in their sights. A hit to their bow would only cause them to list for awhile, so to fire at the right time could give them a decisive victory.

“Fire!”

In perfect synchronisation, fifty guns ripped a devastating hole in the side of their opponent and all the men on the deck cheered.

Its port quarter was sinking, but the Black Crow’s helmsman had made a mistake. They’d gotten too close to the enemy and now the second Haemin ship was flanking them on their starboard, leaving only the Indeok to fend off the new arrival, the Paragon.

A chilling screech of splintered wood interrupted the cheering and everyone who wasn’t hanging onto a cannon stumbled back from the collision of the Crow with the ship to their starboard.

Hongjoong picked himself up just as Lieutenant Park came running down to meet him, blood trickling down his face, and informed him he was being reassigned.

They would have to board.

Hongjoong followed the lieutenant topside and most of the gunners followed behind him. They trusted him now, whatever doubts they may have had before.

But instead of doing as he was told and crossing directly to the Haemin ship, where fighting had already broken out, he marched up to the Admiral and demanded a weapon.

“Will you give me nothing to arm myself?”

Kim laughed at him outright but motioned the surgeon to hand the prisoner something.

A single, meagre blade.

Hongjoong knew in that moment exactly what the Admiral desired.

He wanted him to go and die, and take as many Haemin soldiers with him as he could.

If he survived it was on to the next battle, and then the next and the next after that until the world was the Admiral’s and Hongjoong was no longer useful, nothing more than a threat.

Seeing as he couldn’t strike Kim then and there, Hongjoong snatched the flimsy thing and turned to join the battle.

“Nothing too flashy, understand?” Admiral Kim called after him, a hint of teasing in his voice.

They couldn’t risk a realisation that the Pirate King was among them.

Time seemed suspended while he swung across on the rigging and prepared for the plunge.

Hongjoong was not afraid of death. No, he had survived insurmountable odds before and trusted his own skill. If it was him and an enemy in a battlefield somewhere he could be sure of the outcome, but the Admiral’s plans were a different matter.

Barely armed and with bare feet and tattered clothes, he shook off his worries and got to work.

The Paragon and the Indeok were firing back and forth a little ways away and the sinking Haemin ship would be of no help, so it was just the Crow and the enemies they mowed down right and left.

Haemin’s soldiers were nowhere near as trained as Jaecho’s, that was for sure.

Blood spurted and shrapnel flew through the air, but Hongjoong was numb to it, dissociating from himself almost completely and letting his body remember how to fight. All of the lieutenants had joined, unwilling to simply leave the outcome up to the midshipmen and average sailors, and it felt nice to have someone he knew watching his back.

Hongjoong had been on his feet too long already, exhausted and with nothing left to give. The sword was difficult, instead of the nice clean cut he was used to, he had to hack his way through opponents. It was dirtier, bloodier, and even more degrading.

Anyone who came within an arm’s length of him was dispatched quickly after.

“Grenade!”

The sudden yell from Midshipman Moon’s direction came seconds before a hand grenade hit the deck. Instinctively, Hongjoong grabbed it and tossed it into the sea before it could explode, wincing at the blistering burns it left on his hands.

A flash of light signalled more shells raining down on them from the rigging, and the soldiers did their best to kick them away but now they were fighting on two fronts, and the cast iron grenades blew apart into tiny metal shards before they could stop them.

An enemy managed to slice Hongjoong across the face while he was distracted, but retribution was swift and he could only take a single step back before being stabbed.

Hongjoong shut his ears to the crunching of bone as he shoved his blade in between the man’s ribs.

He needed to get aloft to take out those grenadiers.

Struggling with his newly singed hands, Hongjoong scaled the rigging and dodged the musket shots that went whizzing past his face.

“What I wouldn’t give to have a gun right now...” he muttered.

Alerted to his presence, the grenadiers moved even higher, and Hongjoong had to pause to regain his breath before reaching them.

As he looked around, he realised the wind had blown in a snow cloud. Flurries and gunpowder alike drifted through the air and the warning groan that echoed through the ship told him it wasn’t built to handle the cold.

Shivering, he pressed on until he reached the cowards.

They had cornered themselves on the end of the mainmast while they reloaded their guns, and Hongjoong was on them before they even had a chance to fire.

He didn’t revel in ending their lives, but he finished the job and then smeared the blood across his face accidentally when he went to wipe away the powder.

It stung, but not as badly as the cold.

Below, the Haemin forces were surrendering, but Hongjoong didn’t want to go back down, as freezing as it was in the sails.

A snowflake gently floated into his raw, bloody hand and soothed him as it melted.

For a moment he wasn’t anyone, just a barefoot, white-haired mystery painted scarlet and sitting high in the ropes while ships were sinking around him.

...

San had no time to grieve. The tears were still wet on his face when the officers ordered them to the gun decks.

Thoughts of the last time he had seen Hongjoong— in the middle of the night at the inn while bullets burst through the window— cycled in his head while he rushed gunpowder back and forth.

It didn’t matter how loud the gunfire was, his heart was only silence and emptiness. If only he hadn’t left them, if only he had disobeyed Hongjoong’s orders.

Maybe they would all have survived.

A hand was placed on his to steady his load when he was pulled too far into his distracting thoughts.

“Jongho...?” San gasped, looking over at the translator and protesting, “No, he can’t fight, he’s still injured—”

“We can’t spare any hands,” the translator insisted, nudging Jongho over to the cannons. “He can stay with you.”

San had no fire left in him to argue. The news Jongho delivered had sucked it all out of him.

And just in time for a battle, from the looks of it.

If San had to be present, he wished he could go back to performing emergency surgeries, but he supposed his incident on deck earlier had banned him from that.

Jongho hadn’t spoken a word since explaining what had happened in San’s absence, and he remained quiet while he helped load the cannons and peered through the gunport.

He didn’t understand what the officers were yelling, but he could see the ships ahead of them and he recognised at least one.

“San, that’s the Black Crow.”

San’s head shot up and he crowded next to Jongho to see for himself.

Again, Jongho placed a steadying hand on his companion’s arm, just in case he dove off the ship and swam over just to make the Admiral pay.

Jongho had half a mind to do so himself.

“There’s no way we’ll survive this,” San whispered instead. And he was right, three small Haemin ships against the Black Crow, especially with an escort ship alongside her, stood no chance. Already one of the Haemin ships was sinking, and the other was being boarded from the looks of things.

The Paragon moved to cut off the smaller escort ship— the name Indeok was written on her— and abandoned their allies, dooming them to deal with the Crow.

The Indeok was ready, and before San and Jongho could get a shot off, cannon fire blasted through the deck.

It was such a powerful blow, the cannons around them reeled back in their gunports with the listing of the ship, and all the war prisoners had to avoid debris.

To protect Jongho from worsening his wounds, San pulled him into his arms and sheltered underneath the cannon until an officer dragged them back out and screamed something while holding out a bucket.

“He wants us to bail,” San explained, and he took the bucket reluctantly, shuffling forward to scoop out the water that was already bursting in.

The officer grabbed Jongho by the collar when he tried to follow and pointed at the cannons. He was to continue firing.

Angry at being separated, Jongho shoved the man off and quickly loaded the cannon completely by himself, lighting the fuse and firing it at the Indeok. The sooner he finished the job, the sooner he could reunite with San.

To his surprise, it was a palpable hit. Invigorated, he loaded again and fired just as quickly, paying more attention where he aimed it this time.

A second hit, this one better than the first by the image of the hole being ripped in the side of the navy ship.

Jongho began rallying the gunners. He may not care for Haemin’s hit and run tactics but he had no love for the navy, and he’d bring that ship down if it was in his way.

As the final, most devastating shot ripped the gun deck in half and just as a smile returned to Jongho’s face, he spotted a familiar head of lavender hair.

Wooyoung was picking himself up from the wreckage, stumbling to his feet and trying to climb to safety before the deck was submerged.

Someone was yelling on the Indeok’s quarterdeck, rushing down to help the gunners even as bullets rained down and Jongho was shattered to see that it was Yeosang.

There was only one reason they’d be on a navy ship, escorting the Black Crow of all vessels.

They were prisoners too.

Jongho covered his mouth to prevent himself from emptying his stomach. Guilt swirled around inside him, that he could have killed them if they had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But at least there was someone on this watery battlefield who didn’t hate him and San.

The Haemin sailors were cheering Jongho on, and robustly loaded and aimed their cannons again. A shot hit the mainmast and Jongho watched it fall, horrified. The next hit the quarterdeck and exploded just below the helm, decimating the entire level.

No one who stood there could have survived that.

Not the captain, not the lieutenants, not his friends.

“Stop! Stop it, please!” He screamed, trying to pull away their gunpowder bags while they celebrated and patted him on the back.

They thought he was encouraging them, and they loaded another cannon.

The Indeok sank before his very eyes.

...

There wasn’t much Yeosang could do to help except to pick off the occasional main deck gunner on the Paragon.

The Crow seemed to be doing fine against the other two Haemin ships, already one was nearly sunk and the sounds of fighting sounded from the second.

Yeosang’s cheeks flamed as he looked over and met eyes with his father.

The man had seen his son’s successful shots and was looking at him with such a genuine smile, his eyes so proud and pure it was sickening.

Yeosang turned away and focused on covering Lieutenant Yoo’s back.

He was lulled into optimism, sure they would take an unquestioned victory, just when several massive explosions rang out in succession.

The gun decks were ripped through with cannon fire, and Yeosang didn’t care if the Admiral himself punished him, he could not stay on the quarterdeck while Wooyoung was in danger.

There was a cloud of powder released by the shot, and the young navigator stumbled through it and down the steep incline where the shells had broken through the deck.

Body parts and weapons were strewn along the collapsing surface but Yeosang averted his eyes.

With their last breaths, some of the wounded screamed for his help but he was only looking for one gunner. He didn’t have time to stop to save anyone else.

He must have yelled his name because Wooyoung stood up and extended a hand through snow and powder, so Yeosang reached for it.

With their fingers inches apart, another blast shook the Indeok and suddenly a mast was falling between them. Yeosang halted just before being crushed and still the momentum knocked him to the ground.

Disoriented and with his ears ringing at the proximity of the explosion, he tried to get up and find Wooyoung, hoping against hope that he wasn’t trapped down in the sinking lower decks.

Before he could even stand, the loudest boom yet came in a brilliant firework display from behind and completely destroyed the quarterdeck.

Yeosang watched the captain himself sail over the railing, wounded almost beyond recognition and scanned the deck anxiously for Lieutenant Yoo... or the remains of him. Whichever he found first.

Someone was groaning intelligibility, a lieutenant with his leg stuck in between the wooden boards of the stairs that led to the quarterdeck. He was hurt but alive, and as Yeosang approached him, he recognised the man.

It was Woosung, Wooyoung’s brother and although he was weeping painfully, he looked like he would recover.

Yeosang helped him get his leg out of the splinters and supported his weight as they moved to see what was left of the officers.

No one had survived.

Even First Lieutenant Yoo Dojoon lay choking on his own blood with shrapnel embedded in his midsection. He raised a hand and when Yeosang took it, it was frozen with the mingled chill of winter and death.

“T-Take them down,” he grunted, not a tear on his face. He was resolute even in his last moments.

Woosung looked to see why their enemy had stopped firing. “The Paragon is retreating,” he told them, voice brittle and confused. “But the Indeok will not survive.”

Yoo closed his eyes in disappointment for a moment. When he opened them, it was like he could see past Yeosang and Woosung, past their entire plane of existence.

“We did our duty.”

The light faded from his eyes and Yeosang closed them with a shaking hand.

It was still for a moment, only the dying cries of men and the wind-blown snow swirling around them as the Indeok gave its final farewell moan and started to disappear below the waves, bow first.

“Where is my brother?” Woosung’s voice trembled and he tried to get to his feet but fell back on the uneven ground. Yeosang could see the white of bone protruding from his leg and grimaced.

“He... he was...” Then letting go of the lieutenant, he stumbled forward to peer into the abyss. “Wooyoung!”

There was no answer.

“Make for Kibo!” He turned and yelled back to Woosung, rushing to lower a longboat and helping him into it. “I’ll find Wooyoung.”

So he peered in every crevice and checked every face, knowing the water was cold and the longer he spent looking, the faster Wooyoung’s minutes ticked away.

Soon there wasn’t much of the Indeok left for him to search and his heart had nearly been crushed with the pressure, but suddenly something in the water caught his eye.

A portion of the mainmast, with a familiar head of hair propped up on it. Wooyoung was there, fighting his wounds and floating towards land.

“Wait!” Yeosang yelled, and he ran to what was left of the rail, scaling it and diving in a perfect arc into the uneasy waves.

“Wooyoung!” He gasped between strokes until his hands made contact with the wooden plank. “It’s me!”

Bleary eyes opened and latched on to him. “Yeosang, I was worried,” he shivered and scooted off to the side, leaving space for Yeosang to share. “Is Woosung—?”

“He’ll be alright, he’s on his way to land,” Yeosang explained through coughs, motioning in the direction of Kibo. It wasn’t far, they could make it if he started propelling them in the right direction.

Wooyoung allowed his head to lower and took in a wheezing inhale. He was injured somewhere and Yeosang didn’t have time to figure it out yet. “I’ll get you to safety,” he promised.

And he promised too soon, because moments later, the Black Crow blocked their path.

...

“You’re doing so well, Mingi, just hang in there,” Seonghwa soothed his protesting patient, wiping away as much blood as he could from his wounded eye.

“M-My head,” he whined in a breaking voice. “It hurts... please, it h-hurts...”

Seonghwa bit his lip and tried to ignore his cries until the eyepatch was secured and he could blow out the candle, casting the room in darkness.

“Is that better?”

“Mhm,” Mingi hummed tiredly, before taking in a hitched breath and letting his other eye drift shut. “Better.”

Seonghwa sat back to give him space, but wouldn’t let go of his hand.

Had the bullet been just centimetres to the right, Mingi would already be gone. Even with him lying there now, sloppily bandaged up and practically drunk on pain relief tonic, Seonghwa had no contingency plan.

They needed to get him to a real doctor.

Seonghwa glanced over to where Yunho sat, long legs pulled up into the chair making him look smaller and more vulnerable.

He rested his cheek on his knees to dab away tears and stared at Mingi like looking away would kill him.

Seonghwa hated how familiar this was. Waiting around uselessly in the infirmary, waiting to see if death would take someone they loved.

Hesitantly releasing Mingi’s hand and pressing the blanket into it, he crossed to Yunho and wiped away a tear with the cuff of his sleeve.

“Sorry,” Yunho sniffled, turning away, but Seonghwa caught his face before he could and cradled it until he met his eyes.

“It’s alright. We’re only human.”

Yunho’s eyes watered more and he dropped his head in surrender, letting Seonghwa hold him for awhile.

“Maddox recommends we retreat for awhile and go after Jongho later. I’m still not happy about it,” Yunho admitted when Seonghwa pulled away to let him talk. Seonghwa knew this, but if Yunho wanted to say something about it again, that was fine. Clearly it was weighing on his mind.

“Let him take care of things for awhile,” Seonghwa sighed, reaching over to grab an extra blanket and then throwing it over the pair of them. “I think we deserve a little break.”

It was indeed a break, but it didn’t turn out to be very restful.

Mingi adjusted well to the eyepatch and his headaches wore off gradually, but the officers spent the week it took them to reach Freeport worrying about his vision. They had done their best to clean the wound daily but still Mingi couldn’t see out of his left eye.

Seonghwa remembered this port from the last time they’d been. They were a group of eight then, spending their well earned salaries in the pub and restocking in the market. Of course, the contemptible mutineer Seunghyun had joined them then as well, but Seonghwa didn’t see any more of his type loitering around.

He did notice some significant changes however, in the general liveliness of the townspeople and the shiny new artillery in the garrisons. Seonghwa didn’t even remember there being garrisons last time.

“Who do the batteries belong to?” He asked Maddox as they sailed past.

“You,” Maddox shrugged before taking a sip of his tea and continuing. “Me. Anyone on this ship. Anyone who wants to keep the free islands free.”

“That sounds like... an alliance,” Seonghwa scoffed in disbelief. “An alliance between pirates?”

“I take it you haven’t been to Geobugi in awhile. It’s not unheard of, especially in wartime,” the older pirate went on to explain as the island faded from view and they reclaimed their seats at the breakfast table on the quarterdeck. “Do you know the history of these lands?”

Mingi accidentally smacked himself in the face with his spoon before adjusting his trajectory and getting it into his mouth. Half-vision had its challenges. “No, not really,” he admitted.

“Well, pirates were once unified, a long time ago. It was pirates who first discovered the East, at least to our knowledge,” Maddox began. “There are ancient ruins on some of the islands, but we’ve never found any inhabitants, assuming they either died out or moved on. Places like Freeport and Geobugi became pirate refuges, especially after the defeat of Captain Seongho of the Hammerhead, when his secret caves on Dalhae were discovered. Eden repurposed those tunnels and dug even deeper, but only as a last resort. We wanted to be free. The Navy’s quest to eliminate us only intensified from then on, and they claimed the island they later imprisoned me on, founded the colonies, and even attacked Geobugi. We drove them away but I was injured in the battle and wished to return to the mainland to be reunited with my family. That was the last time I’ve been there.”

His eyes became cloudy and distant and he poked at his food while he went on.

“That year was the same that Eden met Hongjoong. And so, of course, I’m sure you know what followed. You’ll find that since your treasure hunt, you’ve been included in the pirate legacy.”

The three officers sat in silence.

“This has all been going on since we left?” Yunho finally asked, pushing back his plate. He wasn’t sure how to feel about this supposed truce.

Maddox nodded. “And you’ll be quite surprised to discover that not only is the ATEEZ well known there, but each of you in particular.”

Mingi blushed and glanced around. “Well, I can’t say it wouldn’t be nice to be appreciated but... can we really trust them to help us? Will they honestly want to save Jongho if it means attacking Haemin?”

“If you have a chance anywhere, it’s here,” Maddox insisted. “Now, get some rest. I’ll call you when we arrive.”

So the vessel moved against the movement of the sun, until a familiar harbour was on the horizon.

Maddox took them through the Bem canal which led directly into the heart of the island, and then summoned the officers so they could see for themselves.

Large wooden platforms had been built all along the waterway, with bright lanterns tinted in amber and cyan decorating them and lines strewn back and forth to deliver messages. Flags that indicated residents’ crew affiliations hung near the door posts, and the streams that branched away eventually became roads. There was space at the mouth for ships to be anchored, and the ATEEZ became the next of many while the four of them disembarked.

Crossing a network of bridges clearly made from spare planks and netting to reach what appeared to be the central building, Seonghwa couldn’t help but laugh at all the people flinging open their windows and waving at them, some even cheering.

It was like they were heroes.

“This way,” Maddox’s voice grounded them in reality and they followed into the main building, hands on their swords just in case.

Seonghwa couldn’t help but notice that it almost seemed to be an imitation of the palace, from the material of the tiles to the shape of the trees. There was a vague resemblance that struck him as ironic, and when he entered, he half expected to see a throne.

Someone was there, sitting at a table. Someone very familiar, but whose face he couldn’t quite put his finger on...

Yunho dropped everything and ran towards him.

“Gunho!”

...

Taglist: @serendipityunho @celestial-yunho @atzjjongbby @89staytinyzen21

A/N: So yeah this one was a lot more intense than usual, and I'm sure you've got a lot to say soooo go ahead and say it, leave me a comment :,) Tbh I'm not 100% confident with this chapter but I don't hate it and it was due for an update so I tried lol. If you have any questions about the more technical aspects or are struggling to picture what's going on, let me know and I'll try to clear it up for you! ttfn, hope you enjoyed~

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lilxmcrtes · 3 years

Text

New Verses!

S.tar T.rek Verse

a.d a.stra p.er a.spera ( all )

In a time where people have done away with things such as poverty and greed, there are still such things as grief and revenge driven by believed righteousness, and it was those such things that drove Starfleet Captain Oliver Sutton to pursue activities that went against the Treaty of Algeron. His grandfather a casualty of the Tomed Incident and his father and brother a casualty of another incident with the Romulans, when Federation outposts along the Neutral Zone were destroyed, he was quick to aid others in orchestrating an attack.

However, due to an incident that caused him to lose the bulk of his memories ( later revealed to be supported by actual memory erasure to hide his conspiracy ), Oliver was unable to complete this. He was given a medical discharge as he was in a coma. His recovery took place during the Borg threat, meaning it is not until after such an event that he was made aware that it happened.

Meanwhile, Ensign Eira Teare, daughter to the Teare Team, well known researchers, is given her first assignment after graduating from Starfleet Academy, where she works in the Sciences department on the Medical team of a rather large ship. Due to the lack of medical duties, she spends a majority of her daily life doing hydroponic research in the arboretum.

Aimless, Aeron followed his sister, if only to separate himself from their parents, particularly their father since their mother was away on some deep space research since they were children, joining to work on the ship’s Ten Forward.

Also assigned to this ship already is William Coleman III, “Tripp”, the son of Admiral William Coleman II, in the Operations department on the Security and Tactical team as a Lieutenant Junior Grade Officer. Previously on the Academy Flight Team, it’s a surprise that he isn’t in the Command department as pilot / helmsman, but given his track record for being a showoff, maybe not so much. He finds it a bit difficult to operate sometimes, missing the adrenaline of his days as a pilot.

When Oliver does awaken, he finds himself without a purpose. He confides in a friend, that also happens to be a captain on shore leave. It’s suggested that perhaps his purpose was in the stars, lost somewhere, where he’d been lost. He’s offered temporary quarters on his ship to complete his recovery and have a time of healing to which he agrees to.

While the head of the Medical team was in charge of Oliver’s health, the best for the captain’s friend of course, Ensign Teare was assigned as the assistant that quickly was left to the entirety of the task. This didn’t cause any problems though as she was competent and had become rather friendly with him.

This connection would be useful in the event that Aeron and Tripp have an altercation that threatened to have Aeron kicked off the ship. Of course there still had to be some disciplinary action. Oliver convinces the captain that perhaps he be given the chance to become disciplined. From then on, Aeron became an Acting Ensign on Tripp’s team so they could both learn discipline through working together.

Note: It is undecided if Lorelei exists in this verse.

S.tarfleet A.cademy Verse / AU ( Depending on muse )

e.x a.stris s.cientia ( all )

Eira and Tripp attend around the same time as teenagers. Oliver attended as a teen himself but some years before them. Aeron, if he attends, would attend later in his life.

Being on the Academy Flight Team, Tripp was a bit of an adrenaline junkie. It was often that he reprimanded and put on probation for getting into fights. However the threat of losing his flight privileges was enough to put him back in line.

#v: ad astra per aspera #v: ex astris scientia #♡ love isn’t always on time 》 headcanon ♡#♢ don’t give a damn about my bad reputation 》 headcanon ♢#♧ part of me is still lost out there 》 headcanon ♧#💀 let’s take a trip down memory lane 》 headcanon 💀

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the-heart-pirate-shachi · 3 years

Note

🃏

Random situation starters for @clione-of-heart

13. My muse slaps yours across the face. Hard.

“The next person the bottle lands on has to slap the person the bottle lands on after that as hard as they can,” the helmsmans voice echoed through the room as he began to spin the item in the center of their circle. It was way too tight for twenty people, one of them being Jean Barts huge figure and the other Bepos mentionable size. Excluding the Capain who sat on a chair instead of the ground, it was still cramped.

Shachi shift, giggling with a couple other. “I don't know about you but I wouldn't want to be the poor victim having to slap Captain or 'kkaku,” he laughed, playfully shoving his ellbow into Penguins side next to him, earning a laugh from his friend aswell.

The bottle spun a couple times, coming off center and rolling around the circle for a bit before coming to a stop. Everyone held their breath in anticipation for the poor, future culprit. They may all be friends, but they wouldn't be pirates if they just let a full force slap to the face sit on them, now would they? It was already ovious that the offender would get certain payback, one way or another.

“REALLY, AGAIN?” Shachi groaned loudly, falling to his back. This is the 6th time the bottle landed on him for this evening and he is starting to believe the game is rigged against him. Or maybe he was just unlucky. Either way, no matter who the bottle would land on next, he knew his nakama well enough to already feel some revenge plans forming in the room, just in case.

He sat back up straight by pulling himself up by Penguins shoulder, almost making the other fall over as well. Shachi crawled forward with a sigh, grabbing the bottle and spinning it, fast.

In any case, Shachi didn't really feel like slapping anyone in the room, but there were some more pleasant options than others.

Sure, slapping Bepo wouldn't be easy since it was hard to hurt the cute mink but at least he wouldn't be getting slapped back by him, most likely. The bottle landing on Law would proably be the worst. Smacking your captain, no matter if he agreed or not would feel wrong. Even if they had been friends for a long time and his occational hints of insubordinance nothing special, Shachi would rather not. Ikkaku would be, in all honesty, not much better. Hitting a woman for no reason would feel wrong to him, even if she is a fiesty and strong one. Shachi had no issues with hitting women when they did deserve it or attacked him first but again, he would rather not.

He nervously weighted through a few more possible options as the spinning continued. Maybe if the bottle landed on the helmsman at fault for his current situation it wouldn't be too bad? It would rather funny and ironic, if anything.

Slowly the spinning stopped.

Clione.

Of all things the bottle of course just had to land on the cook. Shachi wasn't sure wether he wanted to laugh or groan in frustration. He already had to kiss Clione on the cheek at the beginning of the game and he probbably could have lived with not having to act out a dare on the younger pirate again.

As much as he enjoyed their usual banter, this really wasn't nessacery and Shachi could already tell by Cliones expression that the gears in his head were already moving at high speed, plotting his revenge.

Shachi sighed, moving over to Clione while throwing a glare at the helmsmans amused “but don't forget, you gotta hit him hard.” He would murder than man eventually, the ginger frowned.

“Stand up and let's get this over with, kid,” Shachi directed at Clione, watching him stand up in front of him. The young cook was still a good portion smaller then him and hesure hope it would stay that way.

Taking a deep breath, Shachi sighed before he slapped his hand across Cliones face, hard.

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gaunt-and-hungry · 7 months

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Character Databank: Captain Blackwater of "The Revenge".

Databank of Self Insert OC for The Terror Why? Because it's my therapy.

Erebus was never used to stability. He had been on the run his whole life but found structure in freelance work as, what most would consider, a “Privateer”. He is an explorer and damn good at it, specialising in exploring and charting the most unusual and uncomfortable reaches of the world where it is the most inhospitable. He is an excellent survivalist and grew up knowing how to sail a ship with minimal crew - for that was the consequences of living aboard a Pirate vessel. He had grown to excel in all manners of positions aboard ships and eventually took over command of his dearest flagship The Revenge earning the title of Captain Blackwater after his love of coffee. A three anchor, three mast frigate at thirty and a half metres long. A beast of a ship, she is still lightweight enough to skirt and flex amongst hazardous and narrow passages, sailed with expert hands and minds between her helmsman and her Captain.

He has survived endless torments and turmoil, learning to survive by scraping everything and whatever he has together to keep himself afloat, his skills of survival have kept himself and others alive much longer than God ever intended them to be. He has lost dear friends to the frights and challenges of the world, exposure, starvation and disease and yet it seems he is doomed to walk away from every conflict. Either that or he was forever being punished for his hubris. As Sisyphus rolls his boulder, Erebus must continue to adapt and learn if he wants to keep his head. Should he fail to provide the British Admiralty with what they wish.

He signed an agreement with the British Admiralty. His research in exchange for his freedom and not being tried for his earlier crimes against the Crown. He will never get credit for his work but in return his crew and himself have a blind eye turned to his presence.

He has grown to be empathetic though often seems cold and distant. Struggling with attachment, he chooses instead to show his love through selfless acts of valour, believing himself a man that is cursed with fortitude or a cat with nine lives. As a Captain he is a “first one in, last one out” leader, keen to ensure every mouth is fed before he even considers helping himself. He ensures every soul is tucked into bed before he lays his own head down. Sleep never comes easy.

You would not think him the Captain of this formidable ship. Formidable, yes, but quiet and subdued. Not only that but he is surprisingly short at just around 165 cm. He believes actions speak far louder than words; the respect he has earned comes from the care and support he provides his crew of eighty. He employs both women and men and whatever falls between. Should you be able to to the tasks assigned to your stations then you have earned your keep and his care as Captain. He is indiscriminate, having lived a life where such fallacies have no room to breathe and knowing full well that all living things bleed the same.

He is a man haunted by past of struggles and desperation to stay alive; of destitution and abandonment, hunger and starvation, rebellion and he clings to a hope that there is room and a future worth living for. This man breathes hope and strength no matter the crisis and no matter the pain. At times he may seem sombre, preferring to isolate and find peace alone, feeling deeply as if he must atone for the deaths and lives lost either by his own hand or through his failings to save those he has cared for.

Insert to the Terrorverse: Lady Jane and Sophia Cracroft shook him more than he should admit. James Ross believed that his dear friend Francis Crozier is, indeed, in dire straits. However, there seemed to be no way to convince the admiralty. Lady Jane, however, had old contacts from their time spent in the South Pacific. Captain Blackwater would be resupplying in London and James Ross commissioned him to venture out and find his friend and bring the crew back at any costs. He’d be willing to pay. And pay very very handsomely. But Erebus did not desire wealth nor recognition. Just freedom. To be unshackled from this deal with the admiralty so he could pursue other interests.

Erebus saw the desperation and honesty, the hope of Sir James Ross. He felt the weight of such an esteemed man coming to him of all folks almost begging. Almost ready to get on his knees. “I was told that if there was any man that can find Francis…” Sir James Ross’ voice had wavered, “It’d be you.”

(Erebus cuts his crew in half and supplies his ship heavier than he would ever need, knowing full well that these people may need aid beyond what just one ship can provide and sets out.) Inner Struggles: Survivor's Guilt. Imposter Syndrome. Self Deprecation. Doesn't have a reason to live but by helping others he gives himself a reason to. Nightmares. tons of Nightmares. Isolation. Lack of Self Preservation. Wet Cat. Walking Ball of Shame. So so much shame. Single and Terrified to Mingle. Masochist that thinks he deserves all his suffering. Deep sense of unworthiness. Carrying a lot of his past. Haunted by ghosts of his past. Strengths: Empathetic. Loves Deeply. Cares far too much for others. Finds humour in the darkest of hours. Listens. Enjoys to be present for others. Adaptive. Knows how to hunt and fish and feed people. Can cook. Mend. Knows how to do all tasks aboard almost any ship. Obsessed with charting the stars and can navigate with stars alone. Might be supernaturally difficult to kill (Cursed but not immortal). Can bake bread. Will never let a stomach go hungry. Emergency medical skills. Triage.

#Not tagging this as the terror #because i don't actually want it to have that much attention #self consciousness #He does it because there are people holding out hope for these men #who love them dearly #and he needs to bring these men home at any costs #he needs to make sure that they're alright #And he will go to the ends of the earth to make sure that the ones that others love are home safe #He always feels like he needs to bail water out of his moral debt #He falls madly in love with Francis Crozier

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paragonrobits · 6 years

Text

Terezi laid a hand on his shoulder. His small, very small shoulder.

“You’re doing the thing where you’re freaking out over me being breakable and shit, aren’t you.” Karkat’s tone made it clear that this wasn’t really a question.

Her grip tightened, dispite herself. The whole of his shoulder fit snugly against her palm. She tried not to think about how he was small, he was so easily broken, made of porcelain and glass and paper, things are precious because they tear so easily and so much time spent about her monster’s-hands tearing him apart if her attention slips just this once-

(When she was young, she thought a lot about things that are beautiful because they die so soon. It is easy to think thoughts like that amid the trees, watching the perigees go by and the leaves bloom, and then fall to the ground, and the ground stinks of their rot. They bloom only for a while, and so the more precious for it. Then, she understood what it meant to be a highblood.

More than just guilty by birth, of sharing the blood with an entire lineage of those that perpetuated injustice. Guilty, just as anyone with so much blue in their veins. But she would outlive anyone below her. People like Sollux; even if she was lucky enough not to have to see him forced into a Helmsman pod, he would be old and die before she could even notice.

And then she met Karkat, and she could smell the impossible red of his blood, and she knew what it meant, and she smelled the frailty of his body on the air, and she understood what it meant to be afraid of just watching something die.)

Her grip tightens. He winces and she relaxes it at once, trying to keep her face still but the brief flash of pain, it’s worse than pain inflicted on herself.

She tells herself things like you’re responsible for what highbloods have done. Her duty to overturn or revenge; every highblood at the point of her sword, if the need seems pressing, and the alternatives inappropriate. When she is with him, the second coming of the Signless, she feels it more strongly than ever.

She feels guilty.

Hard not to, when she is so big and so strong that she can barely hold, or kiss him, without hurting him.

(But.

She learns the same lessons that Equius did, before her.)

She leans down, engulfing him through presence alone-

She kisses his cheek, fumbling and awkward and somehow angry at herself, and she doesn’t know why, and somehow that makes it worse.

But he leans into it, his form heavy and tense, and then relaxes. He relaxes with no one at all, except the way he does around her.

(She can learn. It’s one of the few things she likes about herself.)

#homestuck #karezi #terezi pyrope #karkat vantas #terezi #karkat #my writing

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unfolded73 · 7 years

Text

My Voice in Your Head (1/1)

Millian and Captain Swan, rated Teen for description of hand amputation, ~3750 words. No longer canon. This fic was written before 7x02 aired.

For the purposes of this fic, ignore the compression of events seen in 2x04 - namely, the fact that Milah was laid to rest on the same day they made for Neverland. Because I don’t like that, and I’m ignoring it. (Not a thing I do lightly. You know me, I like to work under the sometimes stupid constraints of canon. But not this time, bitches.)

Sorry, I don’t know what possessed me to write this angsty drivel.

A full-body shiver tore through him, and Killian clenched his jaw so hard that it ached as he tried to stop his teeth from chattering. His wrist felt like it was on fire, the pain seeming to radiate into a hand and fingers that were no longer there. He kept bringing the bandaged stump up to his face, convinced that somehow his hand had reappeared. His right hand gripped tightly to the neck of his flask, and he brought it to his mouth, tipping the last of the rum past his cracked lips.

“Mister Smee!” he shouted. The door to the captain’s quarters was open so that his voice would carry, and his new crewman quickly shuffled into the room.

“Yes, sir?”

“I need more rum.” He threw the flask, but it missed its mark and bounced harmlessly off the wall. Smee bent to pick it up.

“The helmsman said we should reach the next port tomorrow and gods willing, the Dark One hasn’t followed. We’ll fetch a doctor for you as soon as we can.” The man seemed to be averting his eyes from the stained bandage at the end of Killian’s arm.

“I don’t want a doctor.”

“Sir—”

“Just get me more rum,” he gritted out between his teeth. “It dulls the pain.”

“If you won’t see a doctor, then at least let Cook see you.”

“That butcher wants to chop more of my arm off. Tell him to stop sharpening his axe.”

“But sir, if it stops the infection—”

“I don’t bloody care, now get me the bloody rum!” he roared, levering himself a few inches up from his sweat-soaked sheets. Smee ran, and Killian dropped back down to his bed, exhausted by the small exertion.

“You wanted me to live, eh, Crocodile?” he croaked to the empty room. “Well, the joke’s on you; I won’t last the week.” He’d seen under the bandage, and he knew what those red lines on his skin likely meant. The infection would spread, and he would die. “A small mercy,” he whispered. There was something poetic about it, the way the creeping lines of infection were a slow version of the black tendrils of dreamshade that killed his brother Liam.

I’ve known you to be a lot of things, Killian Jones, but I’ve never known you to be such a coward.

The voice was hers, Milah’s, and it sounded incredibly real, but he wasn’t so far gone that he didn’t know it was a product of his fevered brain.

“You’re dead,” he said out loud.

And you don’t have to join me, she responded.

“I don’t have the strength to live without you, my love.” His narrow bunk seemed vast, empty without her to share it. The idea of a long life stretching out in front of him, filled with nothing but heartache, was utterly exhausting to contemplate. Mornings spent struggling to button his shirts or buckle his belt one-handed, nights returning alone to this cold bed, where he once held his lover in his arms. Where she’d made him happier than anyone ever had. He shivered violently, his teeth clacking together.

You should sleep. This fever will pass and you will heal. He imagined he could feel her cool hand on his forehead, brushing his sweat-damp hair back off of his face.

“I want you back,” he said, his voice breaking. “I want to go back and do it again. This time I won’t go near him, and we’ll sail far, far away from this part of the realm and never return. Please, let me go back and do it again.” His voice creaked as if he was crying, but no tears flowed. He was too parched.

That’s not within my power, love. He still felt her fingers gently stroking his hair. How about I sing you a song until you fall asleep?

The voice began to croon softly, a love song that Milah used to adore and would request of any bard they happened upon on their travels. He drifted, his shivering abating, and listened to the song.

How might a princess oh so fair, with lovely lips and flaxen hair, love a brigand such as I? I love her too; I cannot lie…

~*~

Milah’s voice became a constant presence in his mind.

It gave him someone to talk to as he mended, as the healing poultice that a doctor put on his stump while he was unconscious did its work. A surgeon closed over the wound, the infection abated, and Killian slowly regained his strength.

He knew she wasn’t really there talking to him, that it was just his own thoughts filtered through a mental conjuring of her voice. But imagined or not, it made him feel a tiny bit less alone. Talking to the Milah in his mind became a habit, easily transferred from the habit of talking to her when she was alive.

“This island is a trap,” he said as he stomped into his quarters. “That infernal creature is keeping the dreamshade from me.”

You knew he was a trickster and yet you insisted on coming here to Neverland, not-Milah said impassively.

“It’s the only way to kill the Dark One, you know that.”

He heard a sort-of sigh in his head, and he could see the way her shoulders would rise and fall so clearly that it startled him. You don’t have to do this. Vengeance accomplishes nothing.

He pulled his flask from his coat pocket to take a long pull from it. “I don’t know what else to do, Milah. If I can’t make him pay for what he did to you, then what kind of man am I?”

His mind had no response to that.

Killian shrugged his long, leather coat off and hung it on a peg. He disconnected his hook — he was starting to get used to it, to what he could do with it and what he couldn’t; he’d almost mastered using it to pull on the rigging, and was starting to feel a tiny bit less of an invalid on his own ship — and pulled his shirt off, unbuckling the new, stiff leather brace that he’d been outfitted with before they left Misthaven. He rubbed his stump, grimacing at the deep, tingling ache of damaged nerves.

It still pains you?

“Aye, but not terribly.” The memory of his hand being separated from his body flashed through his mind for the millionth time, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Traumatic as it was, he’d endure it every day if he could have Milah back.

I’m so sorry, Killian. It was my fault. If you’d never met me—

“Then I’d never have known love. So don’t say that. It’s not your fault.”

You can love again someday. Please don’t think that because you lost me, you’ll be alone forever.

He retrieved his flask and drank again, his silence a rebuke to the very idea that he could ever love anyone again. Love didn’t matter to him anymore. He’d figure out a way to get what he needed from this island of horrors eventually. After all, time didn’t matter in Neverland.

“I miss you,” he said after a long while.

I know, darling.

~*~

Killian’s head dropped onto his folded arms on the rough-hewn table in the empty galley. The room spun.

Look at you. You’re disgusting.

He raised his head, squinting his eyes to try to bring the room into focus. “What?”

You’ve been drunk almost continuously for weeks, Killian. You’re a disgrace.

“Milah would never say that,” he croaked. She wouldn’t, not with the way she herself had sometimes struggled with drink.

Who are you to presume what I would say? I died because of you.

Killian didn’t respond, putting his head down again and letting the room resume its nauseating revolutions.

Her voice was rarely a comfort anymore. It had become a way for his subconscious to point out all of his failings, to berate him for what a useless waste of space he was. His self-loathing had been twisted in his mind to become her loathing, even if she would never have judged him so harshly.

“Please, do go on,” he said to the table, his head too heavy to lift.

You were a worthless layabout when under your brother’s care, and as soon as he died, you lost what tiny scrap of honor he’d managed to instill in you. Now you’re not even a good pirate, trapped in this… this no-place on a fruitless quest for revenge. Allying yourself with a maniacal boy.

“I’m doing this for you!” he shouted into the empty room, the air fetid and stifling. He should go above deck, he thought, to get some relief from the heat.

I’m dead, Killian, there’s no doing anything for me anymore. There’s only you.

“Don’t I know it.” He let his head loll back on his neck. He thought he might vomit. “I don’t think I want to talk to you anymore.”

There was no response.

~*~

He stopped hearing Milah’s voice after that.

~*~

“Oh, can you pick up mac and cheese?” Emma asked, peering into the cupboard.

Killian’s pen hovered over his list. “Not that orange boxed stuff, love.”

“Yes, that ‘orange boxed stuff.’ I won’t make you eat it, it’s for me when you aren’t here to make dinner. Like when you’re at Dad’s poker game.”

He sighed and wrote ‘macaroni and cheese’ on the grocery list. “Anything else?”

“I’ve kind of been craving watermelon for some reason,” his wife said as she picked up her coffee mug and took a sip. Emma was dressed in one of her yoga outfits, sweat from her early morning workout glistening in the hollow of her throat. “Hey, I can come with you if you want.”

“You said you wanted to get started cleaning out the basement,” Killian said as he wrote ‘watermelon’ down. “And I think you did the shopping last week.”

Emma shrugged. “I know, but I thought you might want some company.”

Grinning at her, he stood up and tucked the list in the pocket of his leather jacket. “Your unwillingness to be parted from me is appreciated, darling, but I think I can manage on my own.”

“Suit yourself.” She walked over and gave him a peck on the cheek. His hand drifted without thought to her hip, and he gave her an affectionate squeeze.

“I’ll see you later.”

He walked down the sidewalk to the street and got behind the wheel of his car, putting it in gear and pulling away from the curb.

You’re truly a man of this realm now, Killian. Driving one of these automobiles.

Milah’s voice was so clear that he whipped his head toward the passenger seat, half-expecting to see her sitting there.

I’m still in your head, love. Same as ever.

He didn’t respond, trying to focus on driving. He was still a novice at this, with about as much driving experience as Henry, and the last thing he wanted was to have to telephone his wife to admit that he’d collided with a street lamp because he was distracted by his dead lover’s voice. He looked carefully in both directions and pulled out onto Main Street. Zelena was pushing Robyn in a stroller down the sidewalk, and she raised her hand in a wave. Killian waved back.

How is my grandson?

“If you’re a product of my imagination, then you should know,” he responded out loud.

Humor me.

“He’s brilliant. Nearly a man grown.”

He could see Milah smiling in his mind’s eye. I’m so happy you’re there to be a father to him, Killian. If Bae couldn’t be there, it’s wonderful that it’s you.

He felt tears press behind his eyes, and he shook his head to clear it. It was amazing that after so long, he could still imagine Milah’s voice with such perfect accuracy. Amazing and a kind of torture.

I told you you’d fall in love again. Didn’t I tell you?

“Aye, and it only took two and a half centuries,” he said with a watery laugh.

Better late than never.

Killian pulled into a parking space in front of Storybrooke’s supermarket and killed the engine. “Why now?” he whispered. “Why are you suddenly talking to me now, after all this time?”

She didn’t respond. After a moment of silence, Killian got out of the car and carried on with his day.

~*~

He turned the knob on the washing machine and pulled it up, hearing the water starting to flow inside. Opening up the dryer, he sighed at the sight of an abandoned, wrinkled pile of Emma’s clothes — left there for days, most likely. Closing the dryer door again, he set it to run for a few minutes to get the wrinkles out.

Your wife is a bit of a slob.

“So were you,” he muttered softly, the sound of his voice subsumed by the noise of the appliances in the echoey basement.

Only in comparison to your uptight naval habits. Even as a drunk, you were annoyingly tidy.

He chuckled. “I had plenty of other faults.” Noticing a laundry basket full of clean, unfolded towels, he started to fold them and stack them on top of the dryer.

Your life now certainly is different than it was in my day.

“Aye, I’m not pillaging nearly as many royal ships. Hardly any,” he said with a smirk.

Do you miss it?

“I’m no longer a villain. That’s not me anymore.”

I see that. Deputy Jones, husband and father and folder of towels.

His shoulders raised defensively. “Aye. What of it?”

He could almost see Milah’s skeptical eyebrow rise in his mind’s eye. It’s just different.

Killian continued to fold the towels, frowning. When the dryer beeped, he gradually added his wife’s jeans and cotton tops and socks and underwear to the neat stack.

“Going on a crime spree wouldn’t make me happier, you know. Abandoning my responsibilities wouldn’t make me happier.”

I never said it would.

“So why do you keep pestering me, Milah? Why are you in my head again all of a sudden?”

Something is coming. A time when you’re going to need my voice in your head.

Killian’s frown deepened. “What does that mean?”

~*~

“I need to tell you something,” he said softly as they sat together in the backyard, enjoying what would probably be one of the last warm days of the season. Emma swirled the wine in her glass as she sat in a lawn chair beside him, her bare legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles.

“What’s that, babe?” She was relaxed and happy, and Killian froze at the idea of ruining that. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. How could he phrase this in a way that wouldn’t hurt her? Emma picked up on his hesitance, and worry stole over her face. “Killian, what?”

He cleared his throat. “After Milah died, I used to imagine I heard her voice in my mind sometimes. For a long time, actually. It was one of the ways I processed her death, I suppose.”

“That makes sense.” She was watching him carefully.

“It stopped happening after a time. I still thought of her, of course, but it was no longer like she was with me. Until recently.” He swallowed uncomfortably. “I’ve been hearing her voice again.”

“Like, hearing it? Like she’s really speaking out loud?”

He shook his head. “No, it’s only in my mind.” He scratched behind his ear, letting out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, Emma.”

“You’re confessing to me like you’ve been having an affair,” she said.

He huffed with frustration. “Well, it’s not exactly something you want to tell your wife, that you’ve been thinking so much about…”

“Your first wife?”

Killian grimaced. “We weren’t married.”

Emma shrugged. “You might as well have been.” She tilted her head back on her lawn chair, staring up at the darkening sky. “I know what you mean though, about it being like your inner voice but coming through Milah. I used to imagine my parents that way. I mean, I didn’t know what my parents sounded like, obviously. But sometimes I would imagine my inner thoughts were being spoken to me by my Mom. Or Dad. It was comforting.”

“Aye, and that is an explanation for why her voice was in my head for a long time after she died. It doesn’t explain why it’s suddenly happening again.”

“Maybe she’s haunting you.”

“Swan, I’m serious.”

She set her wine glass down on the ground and pulled one of her legs up as she turned to face him. “So am I. Stranger things have happened in this town.”

“Yes, but you and I both know she’s not just dead. Her soul was…” He swallowed, his throat thick. “She was lost in the River of Souls.”

Emma shrugged again. “Who knows what King Arthur’s been up to down there in the Underworld. He was prophesied to heal a broken kingdom. Maybe he’s... strained her out of there somehow.” She shook her hands up and down as if she was holding something, and he couldn’t help but smile in spite of his heavy mood.

“What on earth are you doing, love?”

She looked down at her hands and laughed. “I guess I’m imagining that she’s spaghetti in a colander? I don’t know.” Her face shifted and she reached over and took his hand. “Look, whatever the reason that Milah’s on your mind lately, it’s okay. Thank you for telling me, but please don’t feel guilty about it.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Unless you’re planning to run off and leave me for ghost-Milah, in which case, feel guilty and also, that’s fucked up.”

He laughed with surprise. “You are an amazing woman, Swan.”

She snorted and leaned over to pick up her wine glass again. “I think you’re giving me a little too much credit just for not being jealous of your first love who’s been dead for hundreds of years.” Taking a sip of wine, she made a pensive face. “Why do you think it’s happening now?”

“It’s not because I’m dissatisfied with this life. I love our life.”

“Whoa, okay, I didn’t suggest that you didn’t, although I can’t help but think this is one of those protesting too much situations.”

“It’s just… I mean, it can get monotonous, all of the tasks of modern life in this realm.” Emma started to look genuinely worried, and Killian groaned. “I’m not saying this clearly. Please understand that I wouldn’t trade my life with you for anything. You make me deliriously happy. You know that, right?”

Emma nodded slowly, her eyebrow raised. “Yeah.”

“But that doesn’t mean I’m not occasionally… bored? Not by you, darling, just by… I don’t know. Work. Or laundry.”

Laughing, Emma leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “We’re all bored by that stuff, sweetheart. Not everything in life is exciting adventure. The boring things are part of life.” She tilted her head to the side, thinking. “Maybe we’re overdue for a vacation, though. What do you say, pirate? Should we pack up and set out on your ship for a couple of weeks? Recapture some of the swashbuckle that we’ve been missing lately?”

Killian grinned. “I love you.”

“I know,” she said with a slightly smug grin of her own.

~*~

Officer Rogers closed his apartment door and leaned against it. Another shift over, he dragged himself into his bedroom, pulling off his police uniform and changing into sweats. With a sigh, he regarded his overflowing laundry basket. Grabbing a beer from the fridge and the book he’d been reading from the nightstand, he picked up his laundry basket and made his way down to the basement, where the apartment’s dank little laundry room was located.

Finding it empty, Rogers’ shoulders dropped with relief, and he filled two washers with his clothes. He sat down in the room’s lone plastic chair, cracked open his beer, and turned to his book.

Doing laundry again, I see.

He looked up, confused by the clarity of the woman’s voice he’d heard. No, not heard. Imagined. Shaking his head, he looked back down at the page he’d started to read.

Don’t ignore me, love. You need me.

“Is someone there?” he asked out loud. In his mind, a brief image of brown, wavy hair and sparkling jewels flashed. The scent of tallow candles and perfume filled his nose.

This isn’t your life. You don’t belong here.

“Who are you?”

It’s not important who I am. You need to find your stepson. You need to get back to your wife.

He laughed, hoping no one was going to walk in and find him talking to himself. “I don’t have a wife. I certainly don’t have a stepson.”

He sensed sadness from the mysterious voice in his head. Does that sound right to you? Truly?

“I don’t…” He stopped. Did it? There was something about his life that had always seemed wrong, but he’d never understood why. The idea of a wife, it resonated somehow. Frowning, he shook himself. “I need to get out more. I’m lonely.”

There’s a girl, and she knows the truth. When you meet her, listen to what she has to say. Please, Killian.

“That’s not my name,” he whispered, his heart starting to race.

Promise me you’ll listen to the girl.

“What girl?”

Your granddaughter.

He laughed, and it sounded a wee bit insane to his ears. “Oh, now I have a granddaughter?”

Don’t laugh, she’s my great-granddaughter.

“Who are you?”

The sensation of a hand caressing his cheek felt so real for a moment that he brought his own hand up to his face, his book tumbling from his lap to land on the floor.

Just promise me, the mysterious woman’s voice said in his mind.

Officer Rogers closed his eyes. “I promise.”

#millian #millian ff #cs ff #captain swan ff #ouat s7 #angst #ouat spoilers #but only a tiny bit #cw: amputation #cw: alcoholism #my fic

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capt-sulu · 7 years

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Aaaah so @maximumdarkwarps did this amazing biblical analysis of Krall, Kirk, and ST: Beyond which was seriously incredible and y’all should go read it (seriously, read it)!!! And then I remembered that last week I analyzed Kirk’s role a Christ figure for my Lit class. Which is opposed to how @maximumdarkwarps defines him solely as a Hero’s Journey protagonist (fight me!! jkjkjk :’)). My argument isn’t nearly as esoteric but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Under the Read More because it’s kind of long, haha. I dropped the intro because I’m pretty sure I don’t have to explain Star Trek. :)

First, to examine Kirk’s relationship with his father. As with Christ, Kirk has a significant relationship with his father. George Kirk died to save his family, his final acts protecting their escape shuttle and launching a final attack on their aggressors. This serves as both an example for what Kirk later does, but also gives him an identity.

In the Holy Trinity, Jesus is always referred to as the Son. When Pike, a Starfleet captain and his soon-to-be father figure, first intervenes with his self-destructive lifestyle, he tells Kirk he knows who he is because he is “[his] father’s son”. Kirk’s introduction as the Son is definitely a significant move on the part of the writers.

But Kirk does not rely solely on his name and parentage to make a name for himself. While he may not have the talent for miracles, his full potential is still a lot. He’s revealed to be of “genius level”, which is proven when he completes the four-year Starfleet Command track in three AND hacks Spock’s Kobayashi Maru exam simulation, even though Spock, a half Vulcan, is supposed to have intellect that far surpasses that of normal humans. Christ was noticed for his intellect as well, debating with rabbis and teaching at temples from a very young age. And, as with Christ, there is obviously something special about Jim Kirk, a greatness that Pike senses in him when they first meet. He says as much when he tells Kirk, “you feel like you were meant for something better. Something special” -- which is essentially Kirk’s very own Chosen One prophecy.

Pike hints at this greatness again when Kirk breaks Starfleet laws to save a planet from volcanic destruction. It’s almost ironic, but Pike tells him that he had seen a “greatness in [Kirk]”, but that Kirk was now simply “playing God”. In their next conversation, when the two are more calm, Pike confides in Kirk, “I believe in you”. The constant reminders of divinity are more than ample evidence for Kirk’s position as a Christ figure.

While (as Foster notes) Christ figures are never actually perfect as Christ is, it is important to address Kirk’s history of self-indulgence and self-destruction. As a young boy in Iowa, he drives an antique car off a cliff because he can. As a young man, he flirts and sleeps around, and gets into bar fights simply because he itches for conflict.

Even when he saves Spock from a volcano, risking the lives of his entire crew to do so, it is done selfishly. When Pike demands to know why Kirk would even put his crew in harm’s way in the first place with the volcano, Kirk avoids the question and boasts that he has lost “not one” crew member throughout his entire, however brief, captaincy. His actions could be seen to serve his hero complex and not because of any real compassion.

But Kirk, as any good character will, evolves. He has a moment of revelation after Admiral Marcus, the villain of Into Darkness (spoiler alert), threatens to destroy the Enterprise and her crew along with it. Kirk literally pleads with Marcus, claiming “[he’ll] do anything” if Marcus would just “let [his crew] live”. This is a stunning act of humility, completing contrasting the egotistical, blustering Kirk from the start of the film.

This character development leads to Kirk’s self-sacrifice. It is not enough to just save his crew, as he has before -- this time, he is willing to lose everything to do so. Kirk follows in his father’s footsteps, realizing that the Enterprise and its crew are his family, as Khan (a foil to Kirk) so eloquently puts it. He fulfills the Father’s legacy. But the Enterprise is also more than just family -- Kirk, as a Christ figure, is actually saving an ideal world.

In an interview from September 2016, George Takei (the actor who originally portrayed Helmsman Hikaru Sulu) spoke about the metaphor of the Enterprise. It was to be a representation of an idyllic Earth, with people of different nationalities working together to further a utopic society. Star Trek aired in the late 60s, and the fact that it included an Asian man, a Russian man, and a Black woman as significant characters was a monumental step for American television, given that WWII had recently ended and the Cold War and Civil Rights Movement were in progress.

With this legacy in mind, it becomes evident that Kirk is not just saving his family with his sacrifice -- he is saving an ideal Earth, much as Christ did.

But Christ came back to life. Kirk does, too, and how he manages it is almost laughably obvious. McCoy, the Enterprise’s Chief Medical Officer and Kirk’s best friend, resurrects him through blood. The connection here to Christ is obvious. But the fact that the blood came from a man supposed to be the epitome of mankind is more interesting.

This man is Khan.

Kirk maintains two foils throughout Into Darkness, one being Khan and the other being Spock. Both of them, like Kirk, could represent the peak state of humanity, yet the writers chose to make Kirk the Christ figure.

Khan and 72 others were a part of a 20th century eugenics experiment, designed to be physically and intellectually superior so that they might guide humanity into a Golden Age. As Khan puts it, he’s better at “everything” -- he’s the perfect human. However, the experiment was a failure because the subjects became despots. As Admiral Marcus and Spock note, “Khan and his crew were condemned to death as war criminals” for “the mass genocide of any being [they found] less than superior”.

These homicidal tendencies are evident in Khan throughout Into Darkness. He opens fire on 20 innocent men and women to take revenge on one, and he literally crushes Marcus’ skull with relish. Khan is clearly not in control of himself.

This negates the argument for Khan being emotionless and calculating. His cold eyes and visage may present glacial haughtiness, but all of his actions are driven by his need to protect his crew, his family. If anything, Khan suffers from an overabundance of emotion, unable to keep himself in check. This runs into pure selfishness.

On the other hand, Spock could be more readily perceived as emotionless and calculating. He is half-human and half-Vulcan, and controlling emotions is the Vulcan tradition. From a young age, Vulcans are given the education to accompany their more keen minds -- cultivating their extreme intellect, and mastering their emotions so their emotions will not master them.

Because Spock is half-human alongside his Vulcan heritage, he could be seen as a superhuman like Khan. Spock and Khan have superior mental and physical capabilities in common. But, in regards to emotion, Spock is at a disadvantage like Khan.

At the start of Into Darkness, Spock goes into an active volcano to activate a freezing device. While this is an act of self-sacrifice, foreshadowing what Kirk later does, Spock does not do it out of compassion. In fact, he does not seem to even understand why Kirk went back to save him from the volcano. Spock was only doing what he thought to be logical.

Spock only learns the depths of human connection when Kirk dies right in front of him, Spock powerless to do anything. He finally understands what Kirk had meant when he’d said, “I’m gonna miss you.” Through his friendship with Kirk, Spock learns compassion -- a situation that further solidifies Kirk’s role as a Christ figure, as Christ himself valued and taught compassion as a core value.

Thus, while Khan and Spock could both be considered epitomes of humanity, neither can be a true Christ figure. Khan allows his emotions and selfishness to guide him, while Spock is unable to relinquish his grip on pure rationality.

Kirk treads the fine line between the two. He allows himself to trust his “gut feeling”, but knows when he is emotionally compromised. As he tells Spock after Marcus threatens his ship and crew, “The Enterprise and her crew need someone in that chair who knows what he’s doing. And that’s not me”. This comes soon after Kirk’s genuine apology. The Enterprise and his captaincy are perhaps Kirk’s greatest pride, and his relinquishing that is a significant sacrifice already. This in itself proves that Kirk is a balance of emotion and logic -- having the compassion to care for his crew, but understanding the bounds of what he can and can’t do.

Because Kirk is established as a Christ figure in the Star Trek reboot series, he can be considered the model that the series wishes to put forth as the best humanity has to offer. In a universe where aliens are everywhere and mankind is no longer alone, it becomes increasingly important to define humanity. Kirk fulfills this. Because of his role as a Christ figure in Star Trek’s Alternate Original Series, Kirk becomes a symbol of humanity and its potential, showing the nature of humanity as one of emotion and compassion.

#jim kirk #james t. kirk #captain kirk #star trek aos #star trek meta #my posts #ahhhh it's not my best essay but i had a lot of fun writing it #sorry i know theres probably a lot of summary but for whatever reason my classmates know nothing about star trek #i know its sad #ALSO THANKS @MAXIMUMDARKWARPS FOR YOUR ENCOURAGEMENT AND AMAZING META YOU ARE INCREDIBLE

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newsnigeria · 5 years

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Check out New Post published on Ọmọ Oòduà

New Post has been published on http://ooduarere.com/news-from-nigeria/world-news/us-china-the-hardcore-is-yet-to-come/

US-China: the hardcore is yet to come

by Pepe Escobar for Ooduarere cross-posed with the Asia Times

Let’s start with the “long” 16th Century – which, as with the 21st, also saw a turbulent process of marketization. At that time, the Jesuits and the Counter-Reformation were trying to rebound across Asia – but within a context where the rivalry between the Iberian superpowers of the age, Spain and Portugal, still lingered.

The Reformation first attached itself to the Dutch trade thalassocracy – a seaborne empire, under which commerce was paramount – over strict propaganda of religious dogma. Britain’s maritime realm was still biding its time. The emergence of Protestantism proceeded in parallel to the emergence of neo-Confucianism in East Asia.

Fast forward to our turbulent times. Marketization – renamed as globalization – seems to be in crisis. But not in the Middle Kingdom, which is now investing in globalization 2.0 amid increasing rivalry with the other superpower, the US.

The American thalassocracy is being superseded by the Revenge of the Heartland, in the form of the Russia-China strategic partnership – for whom Eurasian trade integration, as expressed by the New Silk Roads, or Belt and Road Initiative (BRI), is paramount over the Make America Great Again (MAGA) dogma.

Meanwhile, the re-emergence of Right populism in the West mirrors the re-emergence of pragmatic neo-Confucianism across Asia.

BRI – the prime vehicle for Eurasia integration – would have never come to light without China’s four decades of breakneck economic development.

My sharpest and most informed geopolitical readers, such as the wonderfully enigmatic Larchmonter, are in synch with my running conversations – for years now – with top analysts in Russia, China, Iran, Turkey and Pakistan; following the Obama administration’s fuzzy “pivot to Asia”, the Trump administration’s response to China’s emergence has been to throw all sorts of spanners in the works.

Thus, the current hysteria over tariffs, the trade offensive, the demonization of BRI, Made in China 2025 and Huawei’s 5G dominance, and all manner of disruptive Hybrid War tactics such as repeatedly claiming “freedom of navigation” in the South China Sea to progressive weaponizing of Taiwan.

All that duly fueled by non-stop hatchet jobs on media outlets, as in branding Huawei as “suspect” or “permanently untrustworthy”.

From the point of view of the hyperpower, there can be only one possible endgame: an amputated, permanently crippled and preferably non-stop aching Chinese economy – with unfavorable demographics to boot.

Soybeans from Ukraine are unloaded at the port in Nantong, in eastern China. Imports of soy used to come from the US, but have slumped since the trade war began. Photo: AFP

Where are our jobs?

Pause on the sound and fury for necessary precision. Even if the Trump administration slaps 25% tariffs on all Chinese exports to the US, the IMF has projected that would trim just a meager slither – 0.55% – off China’s GDP. And America is unlikely to profit, because the extra tariffs won’t bring back manufacturing jobs to the US – something that Steve Jobs told Barack Obama eons ago.

What happens is that global supply chains will be redirected to economies that offer comparative advantages in relation to China, such as Vietnam, Indonesia, Bangladesh, Cambodia and Laos. And this redirection is already happening anyway – including by Chinese companies.

BRI represents a massive geopolitical and financial investment by China, as well as its partners; over 130 states and territories have signed on. Beijing is using its immense pool of capital to make its own transition towards a consumer-based economy while advancing the necessary pan-Eurasian infrastructure development – with all those ports, high-speed rail, fiber optics, electrical grids expanding to most Global South latitudes.

The end result, up to 2049 – BRI’s time span – will be the advent of an integrated market of no less than 4.5 billion people, by that time with access to a Chinese supply chain of high-tech exports as well as more prosaic consumer goods.

Anyone who has followed the nuts and bolts of the Chinese miracle launched by Little Helmsman Deng Xiaoping in 1978 knows that Beijing is essentially exporting the mechanism that led China’s own 800 million citizens to, in a flash, become members of a global middle class.

As much as the Trump administration may bet on “maximum pressure” to restrict or even block Chinese access to whole sectors of the US market, what really matters is BRI’s advance will be able to generate multiple, extra US markets over the next two decades.

We don’t do ‘win-win’

There are no illusions in the Zhongnanhai, as there are no illusions in Tehran or in the Kremlin. These three top actors of Eurasian integration have exhaustively studied how Washington, in the 1990s, devastated Russia’s post-USSR economy (until Putin engineered a recovery) and how Washington has been trying to utterly destroy Iran for four decades.

Beijing, as well as Moscow and Tehran, know everything there is to know about Hybrid War, which is an American intel concept. They know the ultimate strategic target of Hybrid War, whatever the tactics, is social chaos and regime change.

The case of Brazil – a BRICS member like China and Russia – was even more sophisticated: a Hybrid War initially crafted by NSA spying evolved into lawfare and regime change via the ballot box. But it ended with mission accomplished – Brazil has been reduced to the lowly status of an American neo-colony.

Let’s remember an ancient mariner, the legendary Chinese Muslim Admiral Zheng He, who for three decades, from 1405 to 1433, led seven expeditions across the seas all the way to Arabia and Eastern Africa, reaching Champa, Borneo, Java, Malacca, Sumatra, Ceylon, Calicut, Hormuz, Aden, Jeddah, Mogadiscio, Mombasa, bringing tons of goods to trade (silk, porcelain, silver, cotton, iron tools, leather utensils).

That was the original Maritime Silk Road, progressing in parallel to Emperor Yong Le establishing a Pax Sinica in Asia – with no need for colonies and religious proselytism. But then the Ming dynasty retreated – and China was back to its agricultural vocation of looking at itself.

They won’t make the same mistake again. Even knowing that the current hegemon does not do “win-win”. Get ready for the real hardcore yet to come

#China #U.S.A

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willsherjohnkhan · 7 years

Text

A Phoenix Rises

Chapter 1: Prologue

***

Captain’s Log, Stardate: 2261.87

In an attempt to rectify their error in judgment when appointing Alexander Marcus as the head of Starfleet, the Federation now placed their faith in Admiral Patrick Oswald.

Oswald was not the type to allow fear to get the better of him. Nor would he act first and suffer the consequences later. He offered Starfleet a calm, thoughtful and well measured approach to dealing with any and all situations.

As to whether he would make a better leader was still to be determined. Even as he took office, concerns were being raised.

Though all agreed that Starfleet didn’t need another Admiral Marcus, Oswald’s open armed approach to dealing with the increasing number of alien races the Federation was encountering was making many uneasy.

It was all very well offering the hand of friendship. But it was felt that it should only be done once it had been determined with absolute certainty that those being offered friendship were genuine, and did not have any hidden agenda’s or ulterior motives.

Initially Oswald’s policy seemed to work well, and everyone began to feel more at ease with his more moderate approach.

And then these policies were spread far and wide and into deep, deep space.

It was here that they caught the attention of a race of beings that were not interested in friendship, peace or even war.

They believed in only one purpose – assimilation.

Capt. James T. Kirk

***

Chapter 2: Desperate Times, Desperate Measures

***

Starfleet Headquarters – San Francisco

The first anyone knew of their existence was when the peace was violently shattered by a sonic boom as the solitary cube-shaped vessel breached the Earth’s atmosphere.

Shock, surprise and curiosity were quickly replaced with terror and panic as the new arrival made its intentions clear as the ship started firing indiscriminately.

***

The air was soon thick with smoke and debris as buildings toppled under the relentless onslaught.

There were fires in every direction. The acrid smell of burnt bodies wafted on the breeze.

And all the while, explosions and the constant scream of sirens battled for supremacy.

***

James T. Kirk fought his way through the chaos as the population stampeded en mass in a desperate attempt to get to safety.

But Kirk was headed in the other direction.

He didn’t have a plan in mind as such. He just knew that this threat, whoever they were, needed to be dealt with.

For that he was going to need the assistance of one particular individual. Unfortunately it was impossible to reach him by using his communicator.

***

“Did you find them?” Kirk asked as he made his way through the now abandoned warehouse.

Hikaru Sulu looked up from the manifest he was reading. “Yes Captain,” he replied, indicating vaguely in the area to what the Captain sought.

Kirk noted the grim expression on the lieutenant’s face. “Is there a problem Mr Sulu?”

“Yes Captain,” he paused briefly before continuing. “Where there should be 73 cryotubes, there is now only one.”

He then entered a code from the manifest into the terminal in front of him.

As soon as the code was entered, a concealed draw that was located in the wall gracefully opened.

Inside the draw was the remaining cryotube. Its inmate still blissfully unaware of what was happening on Earth at that very moment, nor the role that he would be asked to play to save the planet and its inhabitants.

“Captain, I feel it is my duty to point out…”

“I know what you’re going to say Mr Spock,” Kirk said as he turned to his Vulcan First Officer. “Unfortunately there is no time to debate the issue. Like it or not we need Khan, his intellect and his expertise with weapons.”

Kirk then turned back to Sulu. “Download all the data from the terminal about the missing cryotubes. It may give us a clue as to where they have been moved to.”

Sulu nodded and began to do as ordered.

“Captain,” Spock began.

Kirk spun around. “No Spock. I will not be accused of being another Alexander Marcus. We get all the information we can, and when this situation is over we give it to Khan. He can then decide what he wants to do with it.”

He then flipped open his communicator. “Scotty, four to beam up.”

***

Chapter 3: A Deal With the Devil

***

USS Enterprise NCC-1701

Medical Bay

“There’s no time to debate this. We have to do it now,” Kirk stated firmly.

He, Spock, Doctor’s Leonard McCoy and Carol Marcus were all standing around the as yet unopened cryotube.

“Have you forgotten what he did the last time?” McCoy demanded.

“Of course not,” Kirk responded, determined to keep his cool. He understood everyone’s concerns about what he was proposing they do. But if the reports he had begun receiving from the other Starfleet vessels that had attempted to engage the alien ship, it was becoming crystal clear that they were going to need something special if they wanted to survive the encounter.

He didn’t like no win scenarios, nor did he like losing. And he would not send his crew on a suicide mission.

So, if they were to have any chance of success, then they were going to have to rely on the skills of Khan Noonien Singh.

“He will not trust us,” Spock pointed out.

“I know,” Kirk replied.

“What do you have in mind?” Carol asked.

Before he could respond Ensign Molly Hooper came into the Medical Bay and made her way over to the captain.

“You wanted to see me Captain?”

“Yes Ensign. Your assistance is needed with a task we are about to perform.”

The young ensign looked over at the cryotube. When she saw who was within she unconsciously started to worry her lower lip with her teeth.

“Yes Captain,” she responded quietly.

Doctor McCoy pulled the Captain to one side. “Have you lost your mind?” He knew his friend well enough that he had an idea of what Kirk intended. “Goddamn it Jim, you’re playing with a girl’s life.”

“Bones, if there is one thing at this moment that I’m certain about is that Khan will not hurt so much as a hair on her head.”

“How much are you willing to bet?”

“Stop worrying,” Kirk said with confidence, trying to allay the doctor’s concerns. “Molly is the best person to keep Khan in line.”

“I beg to differ,” McCoy argued.

“She is, believe me. Don’t you remember? From the first time he came aboard this ship, whenever he got a glimpse of her he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. And whenever she was around he was more willing to behave.”

The doctor still wasn’t totally convinced. But even he had to acknowledge that the reality was they were going to need the Augments full and willing co-operation.

So, as crazy as the Captain’s logic sounded, it might actually work.

“All right,” he reluctantly agreed. “Lets get this over and done with.”

***

It felt like his eyelids were made of lead. But as soon as his internal organs started working again, he wanted to see exactly where he was.

Memories from the last time he’d been awoken overwhelmed him: Admiral Marcus, Section 31, designing weapons and ships, betrayal, revenge, the Klingon Homeworld, the Enterprise, Kirk, the death of his crew, crashing the Vengeance into Starfleet Headquarters, his trial and then oblivion once again.

“Its all right,” her soft voice assured him. “Try to take even, shallow breaths. That’s right, you’re doing fine.” And then he felt her small, delicate fingers as she gently ran them over his forehead and into his hair.

His eyes opened, then shut, the brightness of the room almost blinding. He opened his eyes again, looking right into the face of the young woman who had haunted his dreams.

The Bridge

“Nice and steady Mr Sulu,” Kirk instructed his helmsman.

“Aye Captain,” Sulu responded as the Enterprise navigated its way through the debris of other Starfleet ships.

“Onscreen.”

On the bridges view screen there appeared the enormous cube ship.

Kirk turned in his chair to check with his Communications Officer. “Any response?”

Uhura shook her head. “No Captain. They’re not responding to our hails on any frequency.”

The Captain now turned to his First Officer. “Your thoughts Mr Spock.”

“They do not respond to our hails because they do not understand. Or because they choose not to.”

Kirk nodded in agreement.

The first option was a possibility, given that as far as he was aware the Federation had not come into contact with any beings with a ship such as this.

The second option had him on edge. If they could understand their hails but choose to ignore them, indicated that they were confident that they were the one’s in control of the situation, and they saw themselves as superior.

“Slow to impulse,” he ordered. “Shields up.”

“Yes Captain.”

Having announced its presence by raining destruction down on Starfleet Headquarters, and then destroying the ships that had tried to intercept it once it had retreated back to open space. The cube ship had then come to a complete stop, and waited.

“What are they waiting for? An invitation?” asked Ensign Paval Chekov, frustration and confusion colouring his words.

“Scan the ship Mr Sulu.”

“Aye Captain. Scanning.”

The turbo lift to the bridge opened to reveal Ensign Hooper and Khan Noonien Singh, who was once again dressed in his signature black Starfleet uniform.

“Permission to come on the bridge Captain,” he requested calmly.

“Permission granted,” Kirk replied.

Kirk turned back to the view screen. “Problem Mr Sulu?”

Sulu was busy checking, then rechecking the information that had come up on his terminal. “The readings we’re getting from that ship Captain. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Explain?”

Sulu frowned as he re-read what was on his screen. “Its like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

Something in the Lieutenants tone caught Khan’s attention, and with a nod from the captain, he walked over to view the readouts for himself. And what he read astounded him. “That’s not possible.”

Sulu read the scanners findings aloud. “There is no bridge, or a command centre, no engineering section. And there appear to be no crew quarters.”

“What about life signs?” Kirk asked.

“There doesn’t appear to be any signs of life.”

“Shields? Weapons?” Spock queried.

“There are no shields and no weapons.”

“Impossible,” Kirk exclaimed. “They just devastated San Francisco. How could they do that with no weapons?”

He turned to Khan for his thoughts, but the augment looked as baffled as everyone else.

“It makes no sense whatsoever,” Khan stated, before turning back to look again at the findings. Then almost to himself he noted. “Their ability to limit the Enterprise’s scanners from being able to read anything about their ship would suggest some form of advanced technology.”

“Agreed,” Spock concurred.

Uhura cut in. “Captain, we’re being hailed.”

“Onscreen.”

The view of the cube vessel disappeared and what took its place took everyone on the bridge by surprise.

All they could see was a mass of compartments, in each there appeared to be two humanoid beings, all completely motionless. That was all the ship seemed to be made up of, rows and rows of compartments. They covered what appeared to be an unlimited number of decks. As to number, it was difficult to tell, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, possibly millions of individuals on one ship.

Kirk got up from his chair and took a step towards the view screen.

“I am Captain James T. Kirk of the Federation Starship USS Enterprise…”

There was an abrupt interruption from the other ship.

“We are the Borg. Lower your shields and surrender your ship. Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own. Resistance is futile.”

As abruptly as the transmission started, it ended.

Kirk turned to judge the reaction of his crew. Most looked as stunned as he, others were showing traces of fear. Then he turned to Khan.

The expression on the augments face was one of undisguised distaste.

Khan exchanged a look with Molly, who nodded her head encouragingly. He walked over to the Captain, his right hand outstretched.

“I refuse to give up that which makes me individual Captain. So I will help you in any way I can to defeat these…Borg.”

Kirk shook the augments hand firmly. “Welcome aboard.”

***

Chapter 4: Intruder Alert

***

Engineering

Chief Engineer, Montgomery Scott was busy checking and re-checking the systems to make sure that they were in full working order. He needed to reassure himself that the Enterprise was ship-shape and in top order. To that end he was on his way to check that the warp core was purring like a kitten.

As he made his way through engineering, the hairs on the back of his neck suddenly came to attention.

Scotty cautiously turned the corner, and stopped.

Standing at one of the terminals was a humanoid figure.

It appeared to be part human and part machine. More than half its body covered with mechanical implants.

From where he stood Scotty could see that he/she/it was scanning data from the terminal with its ocular implant.

The chief engineer got out his communicator and flipped it open.

“Scotty to Captain Kirk.”

“Yes Scotty.”

“We have an intruder in engineering.”

“On my way.”

By the time Kirk, along with Spock, Khan, Molly and a security team arrived, the Borg intruder had moved to another terminal.

“Update Scotty.”

“At the moment it just appears to be scanning our systems.”

Kirk stepped forward and addressed the Borg directly. “What do you want?”

It made no response.

In fact it was difficult to tell if it even registered their existence.

Molly pulled out a tri-corder and began scanning the Borg. But when she made to move closer, Khan placed a firm hand on her shoulder keeping her in place.

She turned, raising an enquiring eyebrow.

“I don’t think it would be advisable to get too close,” he responded. “We have no idea just what type of enhancements their technology gives them.”

“Which was why I was scanning him,” Molly replied.

“Better to be safe than sorry,”

“I agree,” Kirk stepped in. “Ensign stand back.”

Molly immediately complied.

“Captain,” Spock drew everyone’s attention back to what the Borg was doing.

Having scanned a number of systems it now used an implant, where its hand used to be, to try and download information from the terminal.

“Step away from the terminal,” Kirk ordered.

The Borg continued what it was doing, ignoring him.

“I’m ordering you, step away from that terminal.”

The Borg paused, turned and looked directly at Kirk before turning back. It then proceeded to download from the terminal.

Kirk turned to his security chief. He nodded, indicating his permission to engage the intruder. “Set your phaser to stun,” he said.

But to everyone’s surprise stunning the Borg only temporarily slowed it down.

When it returned to its task it seemed even more determined and immediately increased its efforts.

Scotty rushed over to check another terminal as lights all around began to flicker. “It’s draining the ship of power,” he reported.

“Neutralize the intruder,” Kirk ordered. “Use whatever means necessary.”

Security opened fire, their phasers still set to stun.

This time their efforts had no affect at all.

“Fascinating,” Spook commented.

Khan looked on in amazement. “Its adapted to the phaser setting.”

“Set to kill,” Kirk ordered.

This time the Borg fell down dead.

But no sooner had it died then another appeared and took its place at the terminal.

When it continued downloading security opened fire again.

To no avail, the Borg had adapted once again.

Once the download was complete, the Borg disconnected itself from the terminal. It then bent down to its fallen companion and calmly removed specific implants.

Then both were transported off the Enterprise.

Kirk turned to Scotty. “How much power did they drain?”

Scotty checked. He didn’t like what the readings told him. “Enough,” he replied. “All systems, shields etc are at 50%”

Outwardly he appeared calm, but internally Kirk was furious. The Earth had been attacked without provocation. Many that he had trained with had died when they had attempted to defend their home planet. And now his ship had been violated.

“I think we need to return the visit.”

***

Chapter 5: In the Belly of the Whale

***

USS Enterprise NCC-1701

The Bridge

Kirk was never happy being left behind. But he knew that the away team had to be small so as to not attract too much attention. Also with Spock and Khan as part of the team, they were more than adequately covered to deal with whatever situation they were likely to be faced with.

That did not mean that he would not be keeping a close eye on what was going on. Their safety was his top priority.

He turned to his helmsman. “Mr Sulu, if your fix on the away team wavers in the slightest, I want you to beam them back immediately.”

“Yes Captain,” Sulu responded.

***

The BORG Cube

The away team made up of Spock, Bones, Khan and Molly rematerialised inside the Borg ship.

Though they had all seen a glimpse of the interior when the Borg had contacted them. Seeing the reality up close took everyone’s breath away.

It was so alien.

There was simply no other way to describe it.

They cautiously moved to inspect their surroundings.

All found it disconcerting. There was nothing that they could see or hear that was anything like what they were used to.

There was no humming of engines, no voices, and no audible communications of any kind. If the Borg had not spoken when they had stated their intentions, it would have been reasonable to assume that they communicated telepathically.

As the Enterprises scanners had already indicated the Borg ship had no bridge, no medical bay, no engine room and no crew quarters, or at least none that the away team would recognise as such.

All they could see were compartments, with two Borg in each. That was all the ship appeared to be made up of, row upon row, level upon level. There were hundreds of them, thousands, possibly hundreds of thousands.

A closer inspection of them showed that they were stasis chambers. This realisation revealed a number of interesting areas for hypothesis.

Bones carefully checked one of the Borg in its allotted slot. “Incredible,” he murmured as he read his tri-corders readouts.

“Analysis Doctor,” Spock queried.

“Each chamber appears to be designed for a specific Borg.”

“To what purpose?” Khan asked as he examined a connection port on an uninhabited chamber. “To recharge their batteries,” he mused more to himself than to the others.

At that moment the away team was taken by surprise when a Borg made its way towards them.

When Khan went to reach for his weapon, Molly stopped him. He looked down at her in confusion.

“Wait,” she said.

The Borg completely ignored the away team and made its way to the chamber Khan had been examining and plugged itself in.

The doctor took some more scans before giving an explanation. “Their purpose appears to be a more…collective one.”

Intrigued, Spock walked over to the Doctor and scanned the Borg with his own tri-corder. “I concur with your analysis doctor.”

Khan looked around at his surroundings. The conclusions they were all coming to were simply awe-inspiring. But they left him feeling very uneasy and uncomfortable. “So basically the Borg are powering their ship themselves through their connection via these slots,” he clarified.

“It would appear so,” Spock responded. “Furthermore it would appear that the technology required for this type of interface is far advanced of our own,” he added.

“What are you saying?” Bones asked. “That they’re from the future!”

“We have to consider the possibility doctor. Everything we have observed so far leads to that being the only logical explanation.”

“So how did they get here?” Molly asked.

Spock looked around, his brow furrowed in thought. “It is possible that they may have developed the technology that could allow them to create a wormhole…”

Before they could continue their discussion they all became aware of a noise. One they were not expecting to hear on a ship such as this.

“Was that a…?” Khan started.

“I believe so,” Spock replied.

“But, how?” McCoy asked.

“Only one way to find out,” Khan said as he, followed by Molly made their way towards the unbelievable sound.

Khan, Molly, Spock and McCoy all stood completely stunned, none could believe what they were seeing. Inside a specifically designed humidicrib draw was a human baby.

Or at least that was how it had started out.

Spock flipped open his communicator. “Mr Scott.”

“Yes Commander,” Scotty immediately responded.

“Four to beam back.”

***

Chapter 6: A Difference of Opinion

***

Conference Room

The discussion to decide how best to deal with the Borg had quickly descended into a heated argument between Kirk and Khan.

The others in the room had sensibly decided to stand back and allow the two titans to battle it out.

“You cannot negotiate with them Captain,” Khan argued. “They’re not interested in anything you have to say.”

“They are sentient beings and therefore they must be given due consideration,” Kirk countered.

Khan knew Kirk was doing his best to temper his usual gung ho attitude and attempting to take a more measured approach, more befitting of a Starfleet Captain. But really there was a time and a place, and that most definitely was not now.

“Due consideration? Kirk have you forgotten their demands when they first communicated with us. They don’t wish to be friends, or allies. Their only intention is to conquer, and given their advanced technological capabilities that wont be difficult to achieve.”

“You sound as though you admire them,” Kirk noted sourly. “Though I suppose I shouldn’t be so surprised, given the similarities between you,” he taunted.

Khan looked momentarily stunned at the implied accusation, but he quickly recovered himself.

“You were the one who brought me into this situation Captain. You did so for the exact same reason that Admiral Marcus revived me. You need my superior intellect, my savagery to defeat an alien threat that has attacked the Earth for no known reason, other than that they can.”

Kirk blanched at the mention of Admiral Marcus’ name. It was clear from the knowing smirk on Khan’s face that that had been his intention.

“I did not bring you here to destroy them.”

“Then you’re a fool,” and with that Khan turned and left the room.

Kirk was furious. To be put down in front of his senior officers was intolerable. And it didn’t help that deep down he knew that just about everything Khan had stated was true.

He desperately needed to take his anger out on someone.

He chose Ensign Hooper.

As she moved to follow Khan, he intercepted her.

“Ensign, I thought I’d made my orders clear. You were to keep Khan under control.”

If Molly was supposed to be intimidated by his stance she showed little sign of it. “Even when everything he said was right?” she queried.

The Captain, and everyone else in the room looked at her with a mixture of surprise and admiration.

“At the very least,” she continued. “Do him the courtesy you would of anyone else in this room and at least consider what he suggests. Don’t dismiss them outright because Khan is the one who has made them.”

“That’s not…” Kirk began, but he knew he was on shaky ground.

“Really?” Molly queried as she headed out of the room intent on finding Khan. “Prove it.”

***

Chapter 7: A Moments Peace

***

Observation Deck

She found him on the observation deck looking sightlessly out the window. His spine rigidly straight, arms folded across his broad chest, legs slightly splayed. Khan’s posture spoke volumes, of his anger, frustration, hurt, and…

His loneliness.

Molly paused, uncertain what she could offer him in the face of such powerful and conflicting emotions.

He was a man out of time. Completely out of sync with everything around him. He had no one to confide in. No one who understood how he felt, or cared about what had been done to him, what he had been forced to endure for the sake of his crew since their ship had been discovered drifting in Federation space.

Was it any wonder that he was now so defensive? He had been physically altered without his permission, and his memories modified. When his augmented DNA had reinstated his memories he’d still been unable to obtain any justice. Instead he’d been further manipulated by Marcus to do his bidding, being threatened with never seeing his crew ever again if he didn’t.

She watched his stance change as he become aware of her presence. His gaze met hers in the windows reflection. Bravely she returned his gaze before slowly approaching him.

“He’s nothing like Admiral Marcus,” she began.

Khan looked down at the small woman at his side, and raised an inquiring eyebrow, his expression sceptical.

“He’s brash and hotheaded I grant you,” she continued. “But he would never use anyone the way Admiral Marcus treated you. There are few in Starfleet who would.”

Khan gave a derisive snort.

“Do you know why Kirk chose you?” he asked.

The question took her by surprise. After a moment’s thought she responded. “Because I like you,” she said, blushing prettily.

“Oh if only that were so,” Khan’s deep voice rumbled in wistful amusement.

When Molly opened her mouth to reply, Khan forestalled her by gently placing a finger against her lips and shaking his head.

“No Molly. The reason your captain chose you was because he remembered when I was first brought on board the Enterprise. As soon as I saw you I couldn’t keep my eyes off you.”

Molly’s eyes widened so delightfully at his confession, that he couldn’t contain the smile that spread across his face. But only for a moment, he needed to make her understand.

Taking her upturned face in his hands Khan continued his explanation. “I’m not a nice man Molly Hooper, I have done many terrible things.” He paused, his mind focussed on memories from his distant past through to his futuristic present. He looked deep into her big brown expressive eyes and said with a sigh. “I regret some of what I have done and been accused of, but from where I stood I could see no other alternative.”

Molly nodded her understanding. By the time Khan’s trial had come to an end, and all that Admiral Marcus had done in his attempts to turn Starfleet into a militarised organization had been revealed. There were few that did not feel some sympathy for the Augment who had been so cruelly used as a means to an end.

The timber of Khan’s voice deepened as he admitted. “I took one look at you, and I wanted you. You were something pure and innocent, and I knew I had to have you… body and soul.”

Molly trembled in response to his ardent declaration.

“Kirk saw it, and now he’s using it as a means to keep me under control. He knows I would be willing to do anything to have the opportunity to earn the right to be with you if I can.”

Molly observed Khan’s tortured expression. She read his longing for freedom, to begin a new life, one that might even include her, if she so chose.

Reaching up she brought his face down until it was level with hers. “We all have the capacity to be good or bad, depending on the choices we make. You’ve made some bad decisions, but I refuse to believe that they define you. Nor do I think the Captain believes that of you either. If he did, he could never justify placing me in harms way. So, we’ll help him, Starfleet, the Federation and the Earth’s population to rid our solar system of the Borg. And then maybe your case can be reviewed, and they may be willing to see you in a more favourable light.”

She released her hold on him and stepped back.

As they existed the observation deck, Molly added. “I will help you all I can Khan, but be warned, I am no ones fool. I wont do anything to jeopardise or betray the Enterprise’s crew. Do I make myself clear?”

Khan looked at her with admiration. The more he got to know Molly Hooper, the more he willingly fell under her spell. Without hesitation he readily agreed to her terms.

***

Chapter 8: Making Plans

***

The Bridge

When Khan and Molly exited the turbo lift onto the Enterprises Bridge, it was clear that the debate over what needed to be done had already begun.

They made their way over to the group standing around the Captain’s chair.

Not surprisingly Mister Spock and Doctor McCoy were in the middle of a heated, at least on the doctors side, discussion.

“Given that they appear to be connected together in a hive mind, we must consider the possibility that they’re communicating with others of their kind across space-time.” Spock stated.

“Now there’s a cheery thought,” Bones muttered under his breath.

Spock turned, one eyebrow raised. “Problem Doctor?”

McCoy let out an exasperated sigh. “I just think we’re dealing with enough as it is at the moment. These Borg are clearly the most dangerous species we’ve so far encountered.”

“Your point Doctor?” Spock enquired patiently.

“My point, you pointy-eared bastard is that this crew is dealing with enough as it is at the moment. If you destroy their hope completely, they’ll feel there’s little point in fighting.”

“Agreed,” Kirk interrupted, bringing their bickering to a premature end. “But the question still remains, what can we do to defeat them?”

“If I might make an observation?” Khan requested.

Kirk nodded.

“If the Borg do possess a collective consciousness, then our best chance of defeating them is to take them by surprise.”

“What did you have in mind?” the captain asked, genuinely curious.

“We need to do something they’re not expecting.”

“Like what?” McCoy demanded, waving his arm to vaguely indicate the debris that appeared through the view-screen. “From the wreckage out there I’d say that a number of options were tried. All of which failed I might add.”

Khan gave himself time to consider his words before replying.

“While we were aboard their ship they did nothing to hinder us, even though we were clearly armed.”

Spock saw where the augment was going. “They didn’t view us as a threat.”

Khan nodded. “Correct. If an away team could board their ship with a number of small devices…”

“Explosives?” Kirk queried.

Khan shook his head. “A weapon of that type, no matter how small would be easily detected.”

“What then?”

“What about a device that when activated, only incapacitates?”

Spock looked sceptical. “Surely the Borg would adapt too quickly for them to be effective.”

“Not necessarily,” Khan argued. “If it’s something they’ve never come across before, thereby not expecting, it could work as a diversion. They will adapt to it, but it may give us enough time to get our real weapon up and running.”

Khan’s plan certainly seemed feasible. “What weapon do you have in mind?” Kirk asked.

“Red Matter.”

The hope that was building up in everyone involved in the discussion immediately died.

“It’s all gone,” Kirk said.

“Something else that came from our future,” McCoy added dourly.

But Khan refused to be defeated so easily. “The one who brought the Red Matter into the past is still alive is he not?”

Everyone nodded.

“Then surely we can ask him how we can create it, or something like it.”

“For that we would require knowledge of technologies far beyond our capabilities,” Spock pointed out.

“Then allow Ambassador Spock and I to discuss the matter,” Khan responded. “I’m certain between the pair of us we can come up with a solution.”

Kirk turned to Uhura. “Make contact with Ambassador Spock on New Vulcan.”

“Yes Captain,” she responded.

“In the meantime,” Khan continued. “We need to get to work on a diversion. Mister Scott, I believe I’ll need your assistance.”

Engineering

When Khan and Scotty presented their devices to the other senior crew, their response was more sceptical than impressed.

“Are you certain they will work?” McCoy asked. “They look too simple, so primitive.”

“That’s the beauty of them,” Scotty responded with his usual enthusiasm. “They appear totally non-threatening.”

“And as such the Borg should totally ignore them,” Khan explained. “Only when they’re activated will they realise their mistake. By that time they will be temporarily out of commission. Hopefully long enough for us to get the second part of our plan into motion.”

Kirk had no idea if this crazy plan would work, but really what choice did they have.

“Well let’s hope it works,” he said. “Because we wont get a second chance at this.”

***

Chapter 9: Plan Into Action

***

Engineering

“You don’t have all the components to replicate it,” Ambassador Spock warned.

“Well I’ll just have to do the best I can with what we have,” Khan responded. But as he made to end the transmission, Ambassador Spock waylaid him.

“Khan.”

“Yes, Ambassador,” Khan replied calmly. He was impatient to start work on recreating the Red Matter. The clock was ticking and he didn’t have time for pleasantries.

Ambassador Spock held up his hand, giving the familiar Vulcan salute. “Good luck.”

“Thank you Ambassador.”

With a raised eyebrow the Ambassador added. “You will need it.”

Noting the Vulcan’s expression, Khan muttered none too softly. “A Vulcan with a sense of humour, just what I need.”

But the Ambassador’s warning kept reverberating in the back of his mind.

Red Matter was a highly volatile substance at the best of times. Attempting to replicate it knowing you don’t have all the correct ingredients and with no time to test how it would react, was simply a disaster waiting to happen.

Then again, what choice did they have?

The safety of not only the Earth but also that of all quadrants of the Federation could well be in jeopardy if they didn’t attempt it.

Khan knew that with his genetically altered DNA that he was far superior to many around him. But when he looked at the Borg and their way of adapting and improving their knowledge using assimilation and artificial components, it churned his stomach and left him determined to halt their progress in this star system before it could begin.

“Mr Scott,” Khan got the attention of the Chief Engineer as he made his way over to him. “I believe our plan may need a few adjustments.”

The Bridge

Kirk, Spock, and Bones looked rightly concerned when Khan and Scotty explained what they had done.

“Let me see if I understand you correctly,” Kirk chose his words carefully as he looked at the cylindrical container in the augment’s hands. “You have now placed Red Matter within the device that is to incapacitate the Borg.”

“Correct,” Khan replied.

“To what purpose?” Commander Spock queried.

“To use a quaint old Earth saying,” came back the response. “We are going to ‘kill two birds with one stone.’”

When all he received was perplexed expressions, Khan went on to explain. “This device contains two timers, the first will activate the Rankine nullifier, which will temporarily incapacitate the Borg. A second timer will go off five minutes later, releasing the Red Matter, if it works as it should, then the Borg ship should rapidly become crushed as it morphs into a Black Hole.”

With no other option Kirk had little choice but agree to the mad plan.

“So, now what?” he asked.

“Given the completely unpredictable nature of the Red Matter we have created, I feel it only right that I be the one to transport across to the Borg ship…” Khan began.

“No,” Kirk stated firmly.

“But, Captain…”

“You’re gonna need help,” Scotty pointed out. “We’ve made six devices, and as you say all are unstable and unpredictable. So I’ll be coming with you.”

“As will I,” Spock announced. Responding to the surprised look on the augments face, he responded with his typical logic. “With three of us, we can place the six devices in the most strategic positions more efficiently.”

“And the quicker we get them placed, the faster we can get outta there,” Scotty added.

Feeling more relieved with the plan, Kirk finally gave Khan the go ahead.

***

The Borg Ship

When the away team first transported to the Borg ship there had been little movement. The same could not be said this time.

Though the Borg continued to ignore the intruders, they themselves were far more active, with the away team having to constantly weave and dodge around the ever-increasing number of Borg as they made their way around the ship.

“I don’t like this,” Scotty said, having to once again move out of the way of some oncoming Borg.

“It would appear they too are getting ready for some plan of action,” Spock noted.

“Then gentlemen,” Khan stated. “ I suggest we get these devices placed as quickly as possible.”

“Agreed,” Spock and Scotty answered together.

***

Enterprise Bridge

“Are they back on board?” Kirk asked.

“Affirmative Captain,” Chekov responded.

With the away team safely back aboard, there was only one thing left to do.

“Okay Mr Sulu,” Kirk instructed his helmsman. “Time to get their attention.”

“Yes Captain,” Sulu responded.

“Fire!”

***

Chapter 10: David and Goliath

***

The shielding on the Borg vessel was far superior and easily deflected the Enterprise’s phaser strikes, which were likely regarded as nothing more than an irritation.

But it was enough to get the Borg’s attention.

Their response was immediate.

Enterprise Bridge

The Enterprise was suddenly rocked as if struck by a large asteroid, and the exterior hull began to shudder.

Sulu checked the readings appearing on his terminal. “Captain,” he exclaimed. “They’ve locked on to us with a tractor beam.”

“Go to warp,” Kirk instructed.

Sulu attempted to do as ordered once, twice, three times. But it was all in vain. “We can’t Captain.”

Kirk spoke into the communicator in the armrest of his chair. “Kirk to Engineering. Khan, how long until the Rankine nullifier is activated?”

Engineering

Khan glanced over at the timer he’d set up at his station. “Any second now Captain.”

The Bridge

No sooner had the words left the augment’s mouth, than the tractor beam became disengaged.

Kirk gave his next order to his helmsman. “Go to warp Mr Sulu.”

***

The Borg Ship

Everything inside the cubed vessel was frozen into motionlessness. The ice-like material clung to every inch of the ship and to the many thousands of individuals that manned it.

But within a couple of minutes movement was detected. And shortly after that, the ship was once again fully functional.

Though the expression on the Borg’s faces showed complete indifference to what had happened, their actions showed an unwillingness to be beaten by a race they had initially believed to be inferior.

The actions of the individuals aboard that one small ship however had shown that they were clearly a race with surprisingly unexpected resourcefulness.

And they would therefore be of great benefit to the Collective.

It did not take the Borg long to discover where the ship had warped to, and they set off in pursuit.

***

The Enterprise re-emerged into an area of space already proven to be uninhabited. And it was here that they waited for the Borg to follow.

They didn’t have long to wait. The Borg ship soon loomed into view.

Enterprise Bridge

The atmosphere on the Bridge was tense, a mixture of anticipation and dread, in equal measure.

The view on the Bridge’s view screen suddenly changed from an external view of the ship to an internal one, and as before all that could be seen was deck upon deck of compartments, where the Borg stood connected to the ship.

And as before they spoke as one. “Resistance is useless. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile.”

Engineering

Scotty and Khan could hear the Borg’s transmission as it was being broadcast ship-wide, but their focus remained on the countdown of the timer to the second device containing the Red Matter.

“Three… Two… One…”

***

The Borg Ship

The remaining half of the six cylinders exploded, releasing a number of what appeared to be inconsequential red droplets.

The droplets drifted aimlessly around the ship, completely harmless, until they began to bump and collide into various parts of the ship.

A number of Borg paused, something was wrong. The ships systems were failings, as was its structural integrity.

***

Enterprise Bridge

The Borg’s transmission came to abrupt end.

Kirk allowed himself the luxury of a well-satisfied grin. The plan had worked.

“All right Sulu, I think its time we headed home.”

Engineering

Khan and Scotty were also looking very pleased with themselves, but their grins were quickly wiped from their faces when the ship jolted abruptly, and to their horror it was dragged forcibly towards the Borg ship.

“That can’t be good,” Scotty noted, stating the obvious.

The Bridge

“Is it their tractor beam?” Kirk asked, hopeful that it was so.

“Negative,” came Sulu’s reply.

“Can we go to warp?” Kirk knew the answer, but felt compelled to ask.

“No Captain.”

Kirk and Spock exchanged knowing looks. Kirk shrugged his shoulders. “It was worth a shot.”

Engineering

Scotty remembered the last time the Enterprise had been caught up in a Red Matter created Black Hole, and he’d sworn then that he’d never allow the Enterprise to be put through such a situation again.

And yet here they were. He winced as he heard the creaking of the outer hull and observed the cracks that were sprouting up all over the place as the ship began to go through her death throes as she was drawn back into the all consuming void that the Black Hole was creating.

The sheer force of this Black Hole was far and away more intense than what they had faced before. And if he were honest with himself he wasn’t certain his solution of ejecting the warp core and then detonating it would be enough this time to get them out of their current fix.

What they needed now was a miracle.

Khan had not been idle. As soon at the Enterprise had become ensnared he began looking for possible options. He was aware of Mr Scott’s solution the last time the Enterprise had faced such a situation, and had been extremely impressed by it. But the situation they were facing this time was far graver, and the solution needed was also going to require an extra special kick.

And then he had it.

“Of course,” he murmured, his gaze wandering up and down the dilithium chamber.

The Bridge

In desperation Kirk contacted Engineering. “Scotty please tell me you’ve found a solution to get us out of this?”

“We’re working on it Captain,” was not the reassuring response he was hoping for.

“Then work harder,” Kirk ordered. “We’re running out of time.”

“Understood.”

Engineering

Scotty looked at the augment like he’d finally lost the plot completely. “You can’t be serious,” he said.

“Increasing the matter/antimatter reaction in the dilithium chamber will give the warp core a super charged boost when it’s ejected. Then when its detonated, the force should push us clear of the Black Hole. You know it will, you’ve done it before.”

“But to increase the reaction would require direct contact with the crystals, which raises the risk of exposure to radiation.”

“Yes, I know. That’s why I’ll be the one to do it.”

“Are you certain your body can handle the potential radiation that the crystals may release?”

“It’s a risk I’m prepared to take.”

“No,” came the distressed cry. Molly had just entered Engineering in time to hear Khan’s statement.

Not daring to look her in the eye, in case her expression weakened his resolve, Khan strode with determined steps towards the chamber. Molly made an attempt to stop him. But Scotty pulled her back.

His expression grave, as he shook his head. “No lass. Let him try, it may be our only hope.”

***

Chapter 11: From the Ashes

***

The Black Hole continued to expand, consuming all matter that was caught up in its destructive mass.

Nothing could escape its pull.

Almost nothing….

A soundless flash before an object was ejected from the Black Hole’s very core as if hurled by an enormous slingshot.

The object spun out of control, its momentum only returning to something approaching normal when it was finally free of the dark matters deadly grip.

The Enterprise was free. The ship’s outer hull had taken a real beating, and internally things weren’t much better. But for all that, they had just enough power to enable them to limp back to Earth at impulse speed.

The Enterprise - Engineering

When Khan finally emerged from the dilithium chamber, he was greeted with a jubilant “Ya bloody did it, ya mad bastard,” before Scotty enthusiastically thumped the augment on the back.

When Molly flung herself into his arms, Khan’s exhausted limbs crumbled, spilling them both to the floor. Pulling Molly securely into his embrace, Khan let a smile play upon his lips as he lost himself in the delightful sound of Molly, laughing and crying with relief.

But as his strength returned, his thoughts turned to the rest of the Enterprise crew. “How bad is the damage?” he asked, as he observed Scotty attempting to ascertain the damage with only limited data available.

“It’s bad,” Scotty finally admitted. “But it could’ve been worse…”

Khan nodded in subdued acknowledgement, accepting Molly’s comforting embrace as she wrapped her arms around him and laid her head against his shoulder, offering solace and support.

The Bridge

Damage and casualty reports were coming intermittently from all over the ship. But the one area that so far had not reported in was engineering, and that had Kirk worried.

“Scotty! Khan! Is everyone all right there?”

There was an agonising pause as the ship’s damaged systems attempted to re-establish internal communications. Until finally. “All’s fine here Captain,” The Chief Engineer assured him.

Kirk gave an audible sigh of relief, before giving Sulu one last order. “Take us home Mr Sulu.”

***

The Borg Ship

In the final death throes before succumbing to complete annihilation, one final report was sent to the far reaches of the Delta Quadrant, to the Borg’s central base at Unicomplex.

What it contained, and whether it was received is unknown.

***

Chapter 12: Epilogue

***

Starfleet Headquarters – San Francisco

In light of Khan’s contribution to the repelling of the threat that the Borg had posed, no opposition was raised when Captain Kirk made a request for a retrial.

Though the attempted destruction of Starfleet Headquarters could not be overlooked, the late Admiral Marcus’ manipulations of Khan, was now given due consideration. For it is certain that had the Admiral lived, he would have been charged with war crimes, and probably more.

Then the senior members of the Enterprise crew gave their statements. But by far the most compelling was the statement, and insights made by Admiral Spock, who laid before the Tribunal his knowledge of the Khan Noonien Singh that he knew in his timeline, before giving a comparison based on his thoughts having now had the opportunity to interact with the Khan Noonien Singh of this altered timeline. He spoke eloquently of the decisions made by the augment that led to events for which Khan was originally charged, challenging judge and jury to place themselves in Khan’s position and asking if they would have acted any differently?

In the end Khan’s original charges and sentence were downgraded, and he was released into the custody of the Enterprise’s Captain.

Celebrations were in full swing. Celebrating not only the decision of the tribunal, but also their survival, when so many others had not been so lucky when they'd attempted to take on what was clearly the most powerful beings Starfleet and the Federation had ever encountered.

Everyone looked happy and relaxed, though there was one who stood back, preferring to observe the proceedings in quiet contemplation.

Kirk watched Khan closely. But this was a Khan many had never seen before, smiling and relaxed, though Kirk was certain that the young ensign at his side had a large part to play in his transformation.

Kirk himself remained troubled, as there was still the matter of the information he’d withheld from Khan. Information the augment had every right to know.

As if he sensed the intense observation he was under, Khan turned away from the festivities and headed over to the Captain.

“You look troubled Captain, something on your mind?”

It was now or never.

“Actually yes,” Kirk began. “It concerns your crew…”

When he’d finished his explanation he observed the augment’s reaction, noting deep sadness and pain, that his crew were again lost, but sensing no animosity towards himself and his crew.

“We will do all we can to assist you in finding out who has your crew and where they are being held,” Kirk earnestly assured Khan.

“I think you will find Captain that the where is the more important question,” Khan responded after much thought. “For I believe I already know who has possession of them.”

“You do”

“Oh yes,” he replied bitterly. “There is only one organization ruthless and arrogant enough to undertake such an audacious plan of action with the means to conceal their movements. I know them all too well. These actions bare the unmistakable stain that is Section 31.”

***

#khanolly #uneasy alliance #angst

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