Storytime with Rachel F Hundred

The thing is that Jim really doesn’t have a problem with the Jedi.

He doesn’t.

Well.

He might not like them very much, that much is true.

It’s just…

There’s a flicker of a memory, a flash of a lightsabre and a ginger-haired padawan stumbling away from a tall Jedi, a short braid falling into the muddy ground of Tarsus IV. The memory of old anger shivers through Jim’s body and sours his mouth before he pushes it away.

“You gonna talk about it or stew on it?”

Jim rolls his eyes and turns to look over to Bones.

They’re in Jim’s ready room. Bones had parked himself on the small sofa on the far wall, a stack of padds dumped on the coffee table in front of him. Doctor Leonard McCoy runs the best medical team in Starfleet in Jim’s opinion and he knows Bones’ commitment to staying on top of the bureaucracy is part of that.  

For all his own hatred of the monotony of reports, more reports, and even more reports, Jim is as equally dedicated to keeping on top of his own stack of padds because that’s part of his job as Captain and running the best damn ship in the ‘Fleet.

They’ve been sat working together companionably for most of the evening, their dinner trays from the mess neatly stacked on the side table by the ready room door.

“Our new orders have just come through,” Jim says bluntly, waving the padd he held. “We’re to head to Coruscant and pick up a Jedi Knight and his padawan for a diplomatic mission to the Mandalorian planet of Concord Dawn. We rendezvous with them tomorrow morning.”

The cryptic Jedi Order hadn’t offered any other details, like the names and species of their passengers. It is an annoying habit of theirs.  

Bones raises his eyebrows. “And you don’t like the Jedi.”

“I don’t dislike them,” Jim immediately retorts. He waves the padd. “I just…”

“Don’t like them,” Bones repeats.

Jim deflates and tosses the padd onto the desk. “Yeah.”

Bones hums. He gets up from the sofa with a grace that belies his rangy tall body and heads to the sideboard. He pours them both a glass of whiskey from the bottle in the cabinet and brings them over setting one down in front of Jim. He takes the visitor’s chair on the other side of the desk and raises his glass.

Jim picks up his drink and they silently toast before taking a sip.

The warmth of the amber liquid spreads through him, the malty taste with its smoky notes washing away the still sour aftertaste of his memory.

Bones doesn’t push him; he just waits. He’s good friend. Jim’s best friend in this life, in this time.

He grimaces a little. He knows the elderly Other Timeline Spock is a little disappointed that he and his counterpart haven’t established the epic friendship that OT Spock had enjoyed with his Jim Kirk.

With everything the crew has been through from Vulcan’s destruction and their missions in the year since, Jim and Spock are friends, but Jim still spends more time with Bones than he does Spock, and Spock’s off duty hours are mostly spent with Uhura. He knows that the initial events that brought him and Spock together in this timeline have played a part in their choices. As much as they’ve both worked past their initial impressions of each other, the hurts they’d inflicted upon one another are still healing wounds between them.

Jim takes another sip.

In contrast, his friendship with Bones is solid as a rock.

They’d become firm friends at the Academy as two older students. They’d bonded together as they tested out of a whole heap of classes, each in their own way a fish out of water. It’s not like they don’t disagree with each other – they disagree all the time, but Jim knows down to his own bones that Leonard McCoy will always have his back, even if he’s grumbling about what an idiot Jim is being at the same time.

“What do you know about what happened on Tarsus IV?” asks Jim bluntly.

Bones lowers his glass and his dark eyes look over to Jim with guarded concern. “I know it was one man’s madness that led to half that colony being put to death. I know you were there.”

Damn medical records, Jim assumes with a huff, although inwardly he’s relieved to know that Bones knows, has always known from the moment he’d wrangled his way into being Jim’s personal doctor.

“So were the Jedi,” Jim says succinctly. He downs the rest of the whiskey and sets the glass aside.

Bones sits forward. “What happened, Jim?”

“When I was sixteen, I got into some trouble again, and Mom sent me to Tarsus to live with one of my Dad’s old Academy friends, Jack Carter,” Jim begins at the beginning. “At first it was fine, but then the plague hit the crops. Kodos…Kodos killed the Carters in one of the first raids. He kept me like a trophy.”

Bones stills. “Jim…”

“He wanted me as a son, a successor,” Jim says quickly to forestall Bones’ assumption of something worse in its infancy.

Bones nods.

“I got away from him and a group of us kids started to fight back against his regime,” Jim says.

“Leighton’s book refers to a JT who led them,” Bones says softly. “You?”

Jim waves a hand as he slumps back in his chair. “Me, Nield, Cerasi, and Ben.”

Bones frowns. “Leighton only talks about you.”

“Tom’s book is more fiction than fact,” Jim grimaces. “He left a lot out.” He sighs and shifts position. He stares up at the ceiling. “After I joined up with Tom and the others, we managed to get a single distress message out by cannibalising some old comms units from before the Federation, when the planet used to be Melida/Daan. It had limited range, but a Jedi heard the message and came to investigate.”

Bones eyebrows climb up his forehead. “A single Jedi?”

“She was in a nearby system investigating an old temple. When she arrived, Kodos captured her and held her hostage,” Jim continues.

Bones huffs.

“She’d notified the Jedi Council though about the distress call and when she didn’t check in, they sent another team to see what was going on. Another Jedi Master and his padawan, Obi-Wan although the babies called him Ben,” Jim grimaces. “We helped them rescue Master Tahl, but she was injured and Ben’s Master determined that rather than staying and helping us, they should just leave with Tahl. Ben argued to stay and help. Jinn told him to choose and when Ben chose to help us, Jinn took his braid and his weapon and left.”

“He left?!”

Bones’ outrage is a perfect benediction for Jim’s lingering anger at the Jedi Master.

“He left,” Jim says with a sigh. He moves, straightening his position and meeting Bones’ horrified gaze. “Ben stayed and helped us,” he repeated. “At first, we thought his Master might at least notify Starfleet and send help to us that way, but nothing happened.”

Ben had been distraught and despondent at his Master abandoning them so completely.

“It took us a few months but we managed to increase the range of the comms unit. We got out another distress signal which Kodos couldn’t stop. There was a starship who picked up that signal and…” Jim raises a hand and makes a vague wave, “the rest is history. We were saved.”

Bones grimaces. “And Ben?”

“Was repatriated to the Jedi,” Jim says grimly. “His Jedi Master turned up for him at the recovery centre. I offered to have Ben come with me, but it wasn’t like I knew where I was going to end up and he said he still thought his place was with the Jedi, that he could help others like he’d helped us.”

“Sounds like he was a good kid,” Bones says quietly, undoubtedly recognising the honest admiration and fondness Jim has for Ben.

Jim waves a hand. “He was the best of us.”

“Why didn’t Leighton mention him?” asks Bones with enough irritation that Jim knows Bones is annoyed at the nagging curiosity which must have prompted it.

Jim sighs. “Cerasi died while we were getting the signal set up. Tom and she…they were close. Tom blamed Ben. He said he should have saved her with the Force.” He shakes his head, remembering the chaos of that mission. “It wasn’t Ben’s fault. He was watching my back and holding off two of Kodos’ guards. He couldn’t do anything to stop the sniper who…” His throat closes up abruptly, emotion storming through him without warning.

“Sorry, kid,” Bones says gently.

Jim nods and blinks back the unexpected sting of tears. He takes a moment to settle himself and Bones sits quietly waiting on him.

“Nield wrongly blamed Ben too because he overheard Tom’s ranting and wouldn’t let the rest of us explain,” Jim remembers. “He wanted to exile Ben and send him to fend for himself while we waited for help to arrive, but I threatened to go too if Nield forced Ben out of the group. I mean, Ben was only thirteen. He finally saw reason and let him stay until we got rescued.”

Nield had apologised at the recovery centre and Ben had forgiven him. Jim had not.

“Sounds like you were a good friend to the kid,” Bones says.

“I tried to stay in touch but his Jedi Master refused to allow me any further contact with him so…” Jim sighs. He’s often wondered what had happened to Ben.

“So, you dislike the Jedi because they stopped you from being friends,” Bones surmises in his soft Georgia drawl.

“Mostly because his Master abandoned him and us on Tarsus in the first place, but yeah, I also hated being told I couldn’t talk with Ben again by that fucker,” Jim concedes.

Bones raises an eyebrow to chide Jim for the language, but he doesn’t say anything which means Bones agrees with him.

Jim is fluent in Bones.

“You want us to run interference with this Jedi Master and their kid?” asks Bones bluntly.

Jim shakes his head. “It’s not the first time I’ve had to play nice with the Jedi since Tarsus, Bones.” He sighs. “I’ll survive it.”

“Well, if you need a break from them, you know where I am,” Bones says.  

Jim smiles because he does know. Bones will be right beside him like always. He leans back in his chair and clasps his hands on top of his stomach. “You know Spock the Elder told me that they never knew the Jedi in his timeline.”

“Really?” asks Bones, his shock playing across his face.

“Really,” Jim confirms. “The incursion of the Narada changed something in the fabric of space and time. Old Spock couldn’t remember the USS Farragut’s navigation system malfunctioning so badly that they tripped over another star system.”

“Which is how the Farragut originally found Coruscant and the Kalpana System,” Bones murmurs.

“Ben told me once that the Jedi and the Coruscant Senate used to call the Alpha Quadrant Wild Space,” Jim says.

“Well, damn,” Bones shakes his head, his bright with wonder. His personal padd suddenly beeps with a reminder. Bones looks at it and grimaces. “I’d better make tracks, Jim. Sounds like we both have early starts tomorrow.”

Jim nods and sits up. He starts to shift his stack of padds into order.

“You going to be alright?” asks Bones bluntly as he stands up.

Jim shrugs. He figures he isn’t going to sleep well, and he knows Bones will stay up with him if he says something, but he waves him off. There is no need for both of them to suffer a sleepless night. “Sleep well, Bones.”

Bones sweeps up his padds on his way out and the ready room door closes with a hiss.

Jim takes his time organising his work into putting it away. He picks up his own personal padd and heads to his quarters. Somehow he’s not surprised to find that Bones has visited and left a hypospray loaded with a sleep aide on the bedside table for him.

It takes no time at all to take a shower and change into his comfier sleepwear – loose cotton pants and a tunic style top. He orders a mug of tea from his personal replicator and sits down on the cosy sofa in the living space.

He takes a moment to reflect on the privileges of his rank as he sinks back into the cushions and enjoys the fact that he has a sofa. He picks up the book on the side table. Bones had given it to him for his birthday. A collection of an old murder-mystery series involving a Belgian detective. Jim has been enjoying the stories and trying to work out who the murderer is before the reveal.  

For once the text doesn’t captivate him. He finds his mind wandering back to the conversation he’d had with Bones in his ready room. He sighs and puts the book down. He picks up his personal padd and flicks to his personal photo library, swiping through to reach the one he wants to find.

In the picture, two teens sit outside of the Starfleet recovery centre on Andras V. The sign can be seen behind them.

Jim stares at his melancholic sixteen years old self. The blond hair is wildly curly, grown out and neglected. He’s looking solemnly at the camera. He has an arm slung protectively around the skinny shoulder of a ginger-haired boy. Ben looks younger than his thirteen years and there are shadows haunting the sky-blue gaze.

Jim sighs.

He swipes away from the photo and opens his personal log, absently noting the date before he begins.

“We’ve been ordered to Coruscant to pick up a Jedi Knight and his padawan for a mission,” Jim begins. “I find myself conflicted as I always am about the Jedi. Ben was the best of them and Jinn the worst. I wonder at where this Knight will fall on the spectrum.” He pauses. “Maybe I can use this opportunity to ask about Ben, find out what happened with him. It would be good to reconnect.”

He signs off and heads to the small adjoining bedroom with his tea. He hesitates for a long moment before he sighs heavily and picks up the hypospray, but after a long moment of indecision, he sets it down again without using it and calls for the computer to turn off the lights. He’ll get by without it.

He doesn’t get by without it.

Jim feels sluggish as he walks into the transporter room the next morning. He tugs on his uniform discreetly as he sidles up to Spock’s side. On the other side of the Vulcan, Bones shoots him an irritated glare.

“Are you feelin’ alright, Captain?” Scotty pipes up from behind the controls table.

Jim glances back at him. “I’m fine, Mister Scott, thank you.”

“Only you look like you didnae sleep a wink,” Scotty continues as though Jim has not spoken a word.

“Mister Scott’s observation is not without merit, Captain,” Spock chimes in. “You do look uncharacteristically fatigued.”

Bones mutters something about stubborn asses under his breath which Jim ignores.

“I’m fine,” Jim insists.

The controls table beeps thankfully drawing their attention away from him.

“The Jedi confirm the Knight and his padawan are ready for transport,” Scotty reports.

Jim nods. “Then let’s not keep them waiting, Mister Scott.”

He, Spock and Bones all reorientate themselves to face the transporter pads.

“Aye, Captain,” Scotty says. “Transporting now.”

The familiar chime and shimmy of the transporter technology begins.

Jim takes a deep breath.

He can do this.

The lights of the transporter start to coalesce into the forms of two individuals; an adult male wearing the shape of traditional Jedi robes, and a young child beside him.

He can do this, Jim reiterates. He can greet the Jedi Knight politely and maybe, maybe some time on the trip to Concord Dawn he can ask about Ben or he guesses he should use Ben’s actual name…

The transporter finishes and Jim blinks as his eyes take in the ginger-haired Knight left standing on the platform, a blond boy stood beside him with a padawan braid.

Jim swallows hard at the sight of him. “Ben,” the name whispers past his lips without thought.

There is a hint of sadness in Ben’s eyes as they meet Jim’s. Then, a soft smile curves Ben’s lips and it is like the years have not passed by at all.

“Hello there, JT.”

fin.

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