captivity

[full_of_wrath]

Kirk gets called in. Mostly because Khan has made two duty officers guarding his cell ask to be relieved, one of them in tears.

He creates a lot of wear and tear, in general.

Comments

[full_of_wrath]

"Then I'll come."

There are other questions he should ask about confinement to brig or quarters, other useful things.

[kobayashiwhatnow]

"They want you to have a trial period. You'll have guards until I dismiss them; you'll have either quarters or a brig but the door will lock between your assigned shifts."

Which Kirk would have felt better about, if Khan hadn't saved his life. But the decision to end the trial period is on his shoulders, so it could be worse.

[full_of_wrath]

"Do I have to let the guards into my quarters?"

He wants to know, though he isn't sure why that strikes him about it first.

[kobayashiwhatnow]

Kirk looks at him, eyebrow raised.

"Are you going to do anything in your quarters to endanger the ship or crew?"

[full_of_wrath]

He shakes his head. Then adds, on the prompting of a voice that isn't entirely his own;

"Even in restrictive situations, I do better when I am able negotiate some boundaries which are consistently respected. It serves as a touchstone to differentiate between this and the past. Physical space is the most effective, even if there is surveillance, the sense of bodily privacy is important to me."

[kobayashiwhatnow]

"...Fair enough."

Kirk is very much the same way. This feels like leaning out over a cliff, holding nothing but a thread, but it was his idea to bring Khan on board. He needs to show some conviction in this hunch.

"Your quarters will be your own, unless you show some reason I shouldn't trust you with it."

[full_of_wrath]

"I'll keep them sparse."

He promises, quietly.

"When do we leave?"

[kobayashiwhatnow]

"Tomorrow morning. Early."

He claps Khan's shoulder as he turns away.

"Welcome aboard."

It might be another one of his jokes, but it might not be.

[full_of_wrath]

He shivers, and goes to use the time to compose himself.

He'll be waiting for transport bright and early the next morning.

[kobayashiwhatnow]

Kirk is already on board the Enterprise, but he's sent an escort--just two guards--to bring Khan on board. It's a show of trust, because the chances of those two guards dropping Khan are slim to nil.

He's there waiting in the transporter room, though. He makes a practice of escorting prisoners, because of how rarely they have any.

[full_of_wrath]

"Captain."

Says Khan, solemnly, though he'd just seen him yesterday. He moves to follow him, without needing to be told.

[kobayashiwhatnow]

Kirk takes him to his quarters, first.

"Your shifts are nine hours. You'll be with Spock three days, with Uhura for two, and the other two you'll be doing basic service."

[full_of_wrath]

"Yes, sir."

He agrees, striding after him, keeping a comfortable foot behind. The guards follow crisply.

[kobayashiwhatnow]

He shows him how to work the replicators, the communicators. The lifts are pretty much the same as they've been for 400 years, so he leaves those to Khan.

Service, today, will be shining the Officers' boots.

[full_of_wrath]

It feels faintly like crashing into a wall of glass he didn't know was there. He'd seen a future for himself, coming here, working on something fascinating that didn't involve death or strategy, letting himself be useful and being stimulated and potentially, eventually, content.

Swallowing disappointment without betraying so much as a blink, he goes to pick up the brush, and settles onto the ground. Boot blacking it is, but the sudden vision of the rest of his life stretching into meaningless drudgery makes him fumble and drop the brush on the first try.

[kobayashiwhatnow]

There were a few reasons Kirk came up with that 'general' service for him. One is that all cadets start that way, and it provides time to think and focus on small details.

The other is that, when his own shift is over, he can come down and sit by Khan.

"Tomorrow will have more life to it."

[full_of_wrath]

"This is fine, sir."

He promises, settling down to the task, working the old fashioned way with the brush, the polish, the black rag. He resolutely ignores Kirk and focuses on the leather.

[kobayashiwhatnow]

Kirk stretches out his legs, eyeing his own boots.

"Well, at least you know what you're doing. I got assigned this shit and I bribed people to do it for me."

[full_of_wrath]

"It's a very old ritual, for some."

Is all he'll say about that, working a little harder on a badly scuffed pair.

[kobayashiwhatnow]

"Yeah, we kept a lot of those. We still send off new ships by breaking a champagne bottle on the hull."

He leans forward, elbows on his knees.

"This isn't supposed to just be mind numbing menial labor."

[full_of_wrath]

He glances up in surprise. He hadn't complained, but the expectation is a little obvious based on his surprise at the contradicting information he's getting.

"What is it?"

[kobayashiwhatnow]

And now Kirk seems somehow self-conscious. He smiles, amused at himself.

"Everyone on this ship knew Pike. Most of them knew him personally. And this is what he had me do a couple of times when I really pissed him off. It seemed fitting."

He coughs, clears his throat.

"My thinking is this: you hurt me. Your service helps heal that. If you come up with a better way, I'm open to it. Truth is I never cared how shiny my own boots were."

[full_of_wrath]

"This is fine, Captain. I'm sure the news of my kneeling at your feet will circulate promptly. It'll set their minds at ease."

He explains, going on to the next pair, setting the ones before into the row of gleaming black.

"If they do understand that my throat is under your boot, they'll be less afraid, and this will be easier on all of us. I can shine leather, for that."

[kobayashiwhatnow]

"Yeah."

That had been part of his thinking; Kirk is a strategist, and part of that means knowing how to manipulate other people's emotions.

"They know you're the bootblack for the next month or so. I wanted them to think about that when they put on their boots. ...I'm glad you're taking this so well."

[full_of_wrath]

He suddenly isn't. The brush drops again, with a clatter, and then he has it back in his hand but can't manage quite to work and breathe simultaneously, having to pause his hands whenever he wants a breath in.

Despair is a singularly unpleasant sensation. He puts his back to Kirk and carries on working.