exastris_scientia | retired open post // will still tag in if threads are ongoing!

[the communication had been unexpected. unexpected, but not unwelcome--they'd had frequencies, ways of contacting one another that had been silent for hundreds of years but still familiar.

joaquin had contacted them. joaquin had chris. khan had barely been able to keep julian from leaping up to go get them immediately, not that he hadn't wanted to as well. they wanted the two of them safe.

as safe as any of them could be.

there were still days where julian caught himself thinking of the false family he'd been given, thinking of himself as 'alexander'. there were days where he didn't respond when khan called him by name. they were fewer and farther between now. he imagined chris would be...much the same. it hurt to think about.

they'd needed to move without the risk of being found, so caution was a necessity--not to mention they'd needed to cross the ocean along the way. it had made things slower than he liked. he had no way of knowing if chris had been subjected to the same drugs and chemicals that he had, and that had been terrible to go through--he wanted to be around when it happened. joaquin...was probably not the best to be dealing with that.

they'd found the rendezvous point under darkness, and khan went first into the murk--an old safehouse, under the ruin of an abandoned cabin in the sierra nevada mountains. lucky it was still there. julian followed shortly thereafter, and while khan and joaquin spoke contingency plans in the main room, julian retreated to find chris in the sleeping rooms to the back that joaquin had said he wasn't leaving.

remembering his own mental state when he was under conditioning, he knocks on the door frame to announce his presence--letting himself hope, when he sees that he's taking apart a piece of junk radio that's about as old as they are.]

[ jim stayed in the room because he felt too out of place everywhere else. he came out for meals, and sometimes even had some (a lot) of input there. joaquin couldn't cook to save his life, apparently. but somehow when jim cooked it soothed his agitation at his inability somewhat.

maybe it was because this guy he thought he was used to do something like it? who knows. if it kept him from that look that sent a bolt of fear straight through him, he didn't care. out in the middle of nowhere and hiding from the authorities, jim didn't want to test his seemingly unique ability to survive virtually any situation.

this place was maddening. maddening in the fact that it didn't have any new tech to speak of (save what they brought with them), and the fact that it was familiar. he couldn't place why though.

when the door opened, and jim heard muffled conversation from the other room, he'd crept over as quietly as he could to try and listen in. joaquin seemed to have a hell of a set of ears on him and knew any time he so much as twitched. it was weird. but then he heard the sound of the conversation dying down, and went back over to the bunk he'd taken over. he was fiddling with the ancient radio again when he heard the knock.

that was new. he looks up, it was only one guy, the other must have decided to hang back. ]

Guess he's happy to see you guys.

He had good reason to think we were dead.

[when he put it that way, it's probably not a surprise. julian knew that his memories were as bad as his own had been--possibly worse, he's not sure what he was dosed with, or what was done to his mind. but hearing chris's voice without any tone of familiarity...hurts.

he made a mental note to apologize to khan later for putting him through the same.]

May I?

[ jim watches him, trying to decide if he should trust him. it'd been weird enough with the other guy helping him after first getting him out, but they weren't exactly at starfleet medical here. then again, he figures if he up and refuses things have the potential to get unpleasant.

he stops what he's doing, setting the parts down and reaching up to scrub his hands over his face. ]

Yeah, sure. Do whatever. Joaquin's already been hovering like it's going out of style, so I don't see what this is gonna help.

He is rather protective.

[julian does have a few things--khan had some supplies, and they'd nicked more on the way over, including a dermal regenerator. which he does rather appreciate. medical advances are one of the very few things he's finding himself feeling charitable about in this future. well. some of them anyway.

he pulls it and a tricorder out of the satchel he's carrying.]

He, unfortunately, is also not the most patient person.

[none of them truly are, though some can pretend more than others. he's somewhat worried that chris's healing ability hasn't knit those wounds together yet, but julian figures he had been given something similar to what he had--his system is probably simply overloaded. he runs the tool over the cuts and bruises on chris's face, unable to stop himself from staring for a few moments until he redirects his attentions on the tricorder in his hand.]

Yeah, I got that much. [ a beat and he does actually offer a small chuckle. ] Being a giant guard dog might be one thing, but he's a lousy cook. I'm pretty sure I saved us from either dying in a fire or starving to death by keeping him out of that kitchen in there.

[ he stays still enough while julian scans him, and starts to heal the cuts on his face. the bruises too. he doesn't miss him staring, but he tries not to pay that much attention, picking a spot out on the wall in the other direction. ]

Don't suppose you've got some modifiable standard issue contacts in there? My heads killing me. [ he doubts it, but if he's going to be stuck here the least one of them could do was get him a pair or something---somehow. he's not going to be much use if he can't see his own hand in front of his face. ]

[julian laughs softly. yeah, that sounds like joaquin all right.]

Khan isn't much better. We all have our talents, they did not get culinary skills.

[he continues working until all the wounds he can see are healed up, and finishes a baseline scan. it's remarkably similar to what his was. not quite as many drugs in his system though.

which is in and of itself concerning. not because it'll make the withdrawal worse--he's hoping it will in fact be easier--but that means that chris has been through more psychological conditioning than he was. that...is significantly more complicated.]

I don't, sorry. They aren't something we have much need for. You shouldn't either, actually. I'll see what I can do about that.

[julian moves to the other desk, takes the other chair, and sets it near chris, backwards, and sits on it, arms resting on the back.]

My name's Julian, by the way. I'm not quite sure what they're broadcasting it is.

[ jim gives a soft, frustrated sigh at that, and shrugs. it was a long shot. but then he groans, shaking his head. ]

Can we not do that? That thing where you're about to tell me that I'm Chris or something and get frustrated when I look at you like you're crazy.

[ he shifts, drawing his legs up to cross underneath him, and leans back against the wall. ]

Alexander is what they say yours is, and that guy out there---Khan, you're calling him? John Harrison. Says you two blew up the Kelvin Memorial Archive, which---[ ok, this is sarcastic and stupid and they could have just left him. he raises his voice purposely. ]---I should thank him for by the way. So thanks.

Asshole. But---anyways, I'm Jim. Not Chris. Hi.

[julian sighs, speaks dryly.]

Really. They're saying I helped blow it up. I was in the building working at the time.

There was a Section 31 laboratory below it. I was stationed there, mostly so they could keep an eye on me in case the drugs and psychological conditioning they were using to suppress my memories and abilities stopped working.

[he is not going to pull that particular punch. he tilts his head slightly, looking completely serious and there's not an inch of hesitation anywhere in his demeanor.]

'Alexander' is nothing but false memories that were planted in my head through 31's machinations. Please, if I'm going to call you Jim, be sure to call me Julian. I still get confused enough sometimes without the help.

[he can at least accept you're not ready yet.]

Yeah, they're saying that. It was the popular topic of conversation while I was screaming until I was hoarse, which was also great.

[ then julian starts to explain things and his confusion level skyrockets. drugs, conditioning, and something about abilities being suppressed? what circus show did he wander into?

---but he's being serious. he's being serious and ---this is ridiculous. ]

A secret Starfleet organization? Right, fine, I don't mind calling you Julian. But the next thing you're gonna tell me is that guy Khan out there is the same Khan from the Eugenics Wars, and I don't know if you're keeping up with the stardate or anything but that was over 300 years ago.

[ he would know, he has enough books about history in the first place. he loves it, especially the 19th through 21st centuries. ]

No actually, just stop there, cause I really think you might. I really, really can't deal with that headache now. Especially if Joaquin plans on me actually hacking whatever database he was trying to get into earlier.

I don't need to tell you, you just said it yourself. Cryostasis technology is much improved these days, but we managed.

[julian sighs. lord. joaquin was trying to get into computer systems now? he hadn't been any good at it in the 20th century, he'd be absolutely dismal now.]

He was trying to hack into a database? Lord, he should know better than to even try. He's hopeless at it.

[ his eyes widen a bit when julian says that and---yeah, that headache is getting worse. he squeezes his eyes shut a moment, and then moves to get up. ]

Didn't I just say I couldn't deal with that headache? Cause I meant actual, literal headache. God, let's get this over with before I end up throwing up on one of you three or trying to run away in abject terror.

[ at least there's a hint of sarcasm in his voice. ]

[if this wasn't such a distressing situation he'd be very amused at getting a one-up on you.]

I do have painkillers.

[he doesn't want you to be hurting, okay. he really, honestly doesn't.]

I'm fine for now. Thanks for the---[ he motions at his face and the healed cuts and bruises. ]---that, by the way.

[ he heads towards the other room, not waiting to see if julian or whatever his name is following him. khan makes him wary, though he sees the same look on his face as the other two fail to hide. the look that says he knows him, and jim doesn't understand it. ]

Is this what you wanted me to take a look at?

[ the nod is quick, and he moves over to sit, starting in on the easy stuff first so he can get a feel for what's coming. it's a little hard to work through the pounding in his head, but he's managing. ]

Okay. So---I'm covering my tracks as I go, in case you guys were wondering, but I'm seeing some weird stuff. There's talk of some new class of ship, a Dreadnought, but no mention of it at any shipyard on Earth or at Utopia Planitia. Uh---the more heavily encrypted stuff---something about weapons. Torpedoes?

[ khan moves closer then, brows knitting together, and speaks: ] What torpedoes? Does it say how many?

[ jim casts a glance back at him, and starts in on that file in earnest. before long, it cracks open at his request. ] Advanced ones. Moreso than anything the Enterprise has at least. And they're just prototypes. There's 72.

Does that mean anything to you?

[ he looks back at them just as the connection grows staticky, and a holo-recording pops up of admiral marcus and begins to play. jim's heart leaps into his throat, and he starts typing furiously. shitshitshit. he gets the firewalls in place and reroutes any possible trackers set into motion by accessing that, and steps back.

after his face to face with the admiral and a lot of pain---jim doesn't exactly want to be staring him in the face listening to whatever the hell this is. ]

[watching him work is still art, they didn't take that from him. julian is monitoring, on the tricorder, after the admission that he really did have a splitting headache.

judging by the way khan pales at the number, it's very significant. that must be how many survived, aside from them. how many cryotubes are left. how many he'd tried to smuggle out.

julian almost jumps up at the recording--he recognizes that face, he's seen that face, heard that voice. he didn't remember until now. it was in that grey time between julian and alexander, where he still couldn't remember much at all. he was gloating. saying that khan had provided him the perfect opportunity to destroy the evidence of what he'd done, and start a war beside. he'd gotten everything he needed from all of them--a ship and weapons from khan, biological agents from 'alexander', a crew willing to avenge a martyred captain from james--julian suppressed a violent shudder at the use of the false names for the two of them--and genetic information from joaquin that would enable them to begin reverse-engineering their augmentations.

this was a worst-case scenario. julian had no idea what they could do to stop it.

then he says something completely innocuous. thanks 'jim' for his service. calls him 'son'.

he wouldn't have thought anything but disgust at it, if nothing happened next.]

[ jim had already shrunk back where khan and joaquin had moved closer to the screen. why did some of what marcus was saying sound familiar? and martyred, ok, this was really starting to freak him out.

the pounding in his head has gotten worse. it's so bad that he's starting to feel dizzy, and then he hears admiral marcus thank him. call him son. pike was the only one that ever did that. he tries to pull in a breath to push down the sick feeling in his stomach, but he can't. he can't breathe.

he's used to allergic reactions to stuff, but he hasn't--- there isn't anything here that could have done this. he's not an idiot, he's been careful. jim makes a horrible wheezing sound, and tugs futilely at his collar, looking to julian in growing panic. ]

---can't.

[julian's eyes snap to chris's face, widening in shock and fear. there was no reason for him to be going into anaphylaxis--shit, he'd done something, some sort of code, he had no idea what--]

Turn that bastard off!

[julian barks, voice tight with fury and with fear. they don't have anything that can seriously treat anaphylaxis--what sort of augment has allergies?

he goes to chris in moments.]

Lie down. I need you to lie down.

[god he's going to have to insert a breathing tube in his throat if this goes much further.]

[ khan doesn't wait or even hesitate. the equipment will be difficult to replace, but hardly impossible. chris was not something which could be replaced. he doesn't bother with trying to find a way to close out the program, destroying the interface itself is quicker, which he does.

he looks to julian, uncertain of what he can do help, but he knows a medical emergency when he sees it. ] What do you need?

[ chris is panicking. that might also be a mild way of putting it. he can't breathe, and his focus is narrowing quickly from the whole of the room to what is near him. that's julian. he reaches out and grabs his sleeve.

lie down? he wants him to lie down? why? god, he really wishes bones was here right now. bones was always so careful about his allergies. he knows he's panicking, but he can't squash it down. he moves to do as he's told, even if it's half falling back at this point. ]

[because it's easier to try to keep you calm and you won't hit your head if you fall and don't question him he's the doctor here not you.]

Ch--Jim, I need you to try to calm down. This isn't an allergic reaction. This is something he did to your head.

[the tricorder is still scanning him, julian can see it where he dropped it on the floor. this is purely psychological--there's no histamines in his system whatsoever.

that's not helping keep his throat from swelling shut.

julian tilts chris's head back, and his long fingers carefully find the adam's apple, the slight bulge below it. the indentation between.][there's a scalpel in his satchel, he pulls it out. he doesn't want to do this, but he might have to. first, he tries rescue breathing--but his breath isn't going anywhere, he can feel the constriction of his throat, he can't even wheeze anymore.

julian doesn't hesitate once he realizes that. khan has given him the tube, that's the thing he needed, so he acts.

he's incredibly fast with a scalpel. and there's surprisingly little blood for the fact that he just slashed a small slit in chris's throat and shoved a tube in it.

he breathes directly into the tube. one, two--then pausing and breathing every five seconds until he can manage it on his own.]

[ khan has moved close to help where he can, ready to give him whatever he needs. when he worried that there was worse that marcus might do, even he hadn't considered this. conditioning so ingrained that they might simply watch one of their family die and be able to do nothing to stop it. he pushes back the anger, it will help no one right now.

he hears him say something about it being in his head but---how?

dimly, he's aware through the growing buzz in his head from lack of oxygen, what julian is doing. they are all taught basic field medicine in the academy, but it isn't working. the tightening in his chest isn't lessening, and his vision is starting to grey. it's nearly completely black, and then he's breathing again, rasping it in.

he's still dizzy feeling, sick, and he could sob at the relief he's feeling, tears itching his skin as they roll out of the corners of his eyes. ]

That's it. That's it, you're okay. Just breath, it might be a little hard, but I'll fix it once the swelling goes down. We've got you.

[julian takes his hand, grips it in his own that are suddenly shaking again, like they haven't for weeks. he is terrified. julian's other hand combs through his hair. he is going to kill marcus, and find a way to do it slowly.

joaquin's thoughts are not quite so charitable. he wants to find marcus and rip his head off, which would be a much faster way to go.]

[ jim can start to make out what he's saying, and he manages a small, abortive nod. he can see julian clearly now, and the others hovering near to him. he was confused before, but now he's just afraid, but not of them. everything he's ever known has suddenly turned against him, tried to kill him.

he feels julian's hand in his own, and his fingers twitch to try and curl around it. he can't really manage it. he feels a hand squeeze his shoulder, and someone gets up, it must be khan, but he's too tired to do anything but watch julian. then there are fingers in his hair, and he can't help the watering in his eyes.

khan needs to think, but he's dizzy with rage. chris nearly died. he nearly died from what they did to him, and they wish to subject the rest of their people to a similar fate of servitude and abuse. ]

[joaquin looks at khan, then crouches next to julian.]

Let's get you two off the floor, yeah? Come on.

[between the two of them, they get chris up off the floor--carefully, very carefully--and back to the sleeping rooms. julian nixes the pillow, they need to keep him flat for the moment, but covers him up with a blanket pulled up to the chest. joaquin grabs the chair, then goes back to the main room for julian's abandoned tricorder, brings it back too. he'll need it to keep an eye on chris's throat. or, at least, it'll make it easier.

then he intends to go talk to khan, to see how the hell they're going to kill marcus and everyone else who'd even think to do this to them.]

[ he aches, an aftereffect from being so tense from the ordeal, his body seizing up. he gives a small nod, failing to help that much when he's helped up off the floor, and back to the bunk he'd taken over.

he's grateful for the blanket, but more grateful that he isn't going to be left on his own, whether due to the fact that he's got a hole in his throat or they think he's this chris guy, he doesn't really care. but considering what marcus was saying---has all of this, his whole life---has it all been a lie? some elaborate scheme? god, he's too tired to think.

whatever it is, the last thing jim wants is to be alone, and he manages to slide his hand out from under the blanket, palm up in question to julian.

he sees joaquin come back with the tricorder, and then leave again. maybe he's talking to khan? he doesn't know. ]

[julian doesn't hesitate to put his hand in chris's. the anger is burning out of him, the brilliant flare reducing to a dimly glowing ember, to be fanned back into life when it was called for.

but it's not for chris. or jim. whatever he's calling himself, whoever he is. it's solely for marcus.]

I'll stay. I'm not going to leave you.

retired open post // will still tag in if threads are ongoing!

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