WELCOME TO THE DARK WEB.

[ashaya]

Who: Spock and anyone interested in the aforementioned technology plot.
Where: Mostly around the port, because you have to really lean into the Gothic Romance of it.
What: Local nerds build a computer and a system of their own to exercise privacy online for everyone with mixed results.
Warnings: TBD. None so far, unless you want to count Spock veering into poeticisms inevitably in metatext.




[ chances are, if you're curious, you've been seeing a handful of ciphers cropping up around aldrip.

they start in places most chosen would frequent, spiral out to areas more remote in the coming days. but, no matter which ones you encounter, they all seem to written in the same hand. the words, if you can call them that, are jumbled in such a way that it looks impossible to unknot at first. but, there's a odd weight across some of these... messages? the letters look strange and, comparing them over time, you'll find a key.

curious, indeed. someone likes vigenère ciphers.

what it shakes out to is a set of coordinates that will lead you squarely to an abandoned warehouse by the pier, a date, and a time. if you're compelled to go on your own, you might find some of your fellows waiting around with you. if you're not? well, maybe you can take a friend just in case.

either way, you'll get your answers one way or another. ]

( ooc: HELLO FRIENDS. first and foremost, please see the comments and the sub-comments below for week blocking and organizational efforts. if you would like to summon me into your comment, just put spock in the subject line or ping me directly on plurk at askefise or on discord! i'm usually around in some capacity or another.

other than that: have fun! if you need me to help you brainstorm why your blorbo would show up or how, i'm here for you. time for totally fun and normal times that will not end in any abnormal way whatsoever on the 19th. )

Comments

[feintofhart]

Then you can teach me one day. Ciphers, I can do. It's been said I have quite a talent for them.

[ That's what happens when you have your own collection of spies at your command, all the while knowing that the likes of Hubert von Vestra is on the other side; there is no act of ingenious that that man can't match, so they've wound up changing their codes up time and time again. It's been a long time since those days, but Claude's old skills remain the same.

It's nice, seeing Jim's optimism. He hasn't been here long enough to be made weary of dead ends and cataclysmic events, of the city changing around them, of human sacrifices and acts of terrorism, and he's all the better for it. Sharper than those who have been here for longer, Claude thinks, though he likes to believe his own optism hasn't been tarnished -- just made quieter. ]

I think we are, [ he says bluntly. ] But bad odds have never stopped me from trying in the past. Even under surveillance, we might be able to surprise them, or at least become a big enough nuisance that we wind up finding out some different truths about this place, even if we set out to do something else entirely.

So. You and Spock. I don't know the guy, for what it's worth -- we've never become acquainted. But I'm curious! You two know each other, back home? Were you on the same ship?

[finalfrontiersman]

Perhaps you can teach me, too, we'll do a little learning exchange.

[ Jim was decent at it - certainly no match for Spock - but learning some new tricks never hurt. Claude definitely strikes him as more of an old-style soldier from what he knows of him, and Jim knows better than anyone that when things go to shit, technology wise, having to fall back and rely on manual skills was invaluable. Sometimes, there was nothing to be done, hacking and coding and and and. Sometimes, you just had to blow shit up, and land a punch with your bare fist.

The stories he's heard have not been encouraging - from Claude, Spock, and others he's had run-ins with during his tenure in Aldrip. But so far, he hasn't yet been a firsthand witness to the madness. Surely nothing can go wrong with this Dark Web project...haha...right... ]

I don't believe in no-win scenarios. [ Despite everything, that still remains true. The only way to lose is to stop trying. Jim's always known he'll die trying, so be it. He nods, taking another sip of the coffee, waiting for the caffeine to kick in and give him a second wind. ] We're definitely getting somewhere. We don't have enough firepower to do a hostile takeover of their system...but this is definitely going somewhere.

[ The so far remains unsaid. ]

He's ah, not exactly the...extroverted type. [ Jim's smile quirks at the edges of his mouth, gaze automatically cutting across the room - ah, looks like Spock's given up hovering in here for now, likely admonishing someone in the back for poor power tool safety. ] We do, and we are. He's my Chief Science officer and second in command.

[ There's no point in explaining the actually-I-know-a-different-version-of-him-from-an-alternate-timeline part of it, so Jim neatly self-editorializes. ]

His people subscribe to the principles of logic over emotion. Some people find it disconcerting, at first. [ Jim shrugs, clearly unruffled by it; his fondness for Spock is no secret to anyone who looks at them in the same room or hell, even if they're not in the same room. ] But he's one of the kindest men I've ever had the privilege to serve with. And he's a riot, even when he pretends that he's not kidding around - don't let him fool you.

[feintofhart]

I knew I liked you for a reason. I don't believe in no-win scenarios either. It's never over until you're dead and I'm a difficult man to kill, [ Claude declares with the sort of breezy confidence of a man who had never subscribed to the knightly ideals of the land he now fights for. He knows damn well how many people are appalled by his attitude, when he lets it slip, but he finds himself caring less and less about that these days. He brings his cup to his lips with a small smile, glancing around the room at the others hard at work. He'd feel worse about distracting Jim if not for the fact that he thinks the fellow could probably use a break. There's nothing like thinking about something else to make a breakthrough on whatever it is you're supposed to be working on. ]

I'm happy for you that you could come together. It makes things a lot easier when you can do it beside someone you trust. His people, you say -- what people would those be? It's rare you see such close partnerships between people of different backgrounds.

[finalfrontiersman]

Exactly. [ Finally, someone gets it! It's been years since that damned Command test, but Jim stands by it just as much as he always has. Yes, there is a place for the sacrifice play - but it's a last resort, not a first option. Starfleet hadn't seemed to get that - well, parts of it had, but certainly not Spock. Definitely not at first. But Jim just - doesn't find calm dignity in the face of death. You should meet your maker with blood on your fists, or at least, that's how he always planned to go.

The break is certainly warranted; Jim's not sure how long he's been on this work binge, truth be told. The warehouse doesn't exactly have optimal lighting from outward facing windows, so it's not like Jim's even aware of the time. ]

Yeah, it's been a comfort. [ As much of one as they can find in this place, and despite the strange circumstances, Jim's pretty confident Spock would describe it the same way - in his own logical words, of course. ] Though he was here a fair bit before me. I'm the one getting the easy side of this deal.

Vulcans. They're a proud, intelligent race - humanoid, though with differing physiology. [ The visibility of the pointed ears is a dead giveaway, though there's more that's not visible, beneath the surface. ] We learned to see our differences as an asset, rather than continuing to allow them to clash. A quality that took some beating into both of us, to be sure, but we got there in the end.

We make a good team, and I trust him with my life. [ The way Jim says it, it's clear he's speaking from experience. ]

[feintofhart]

Humanoid. [ Claude's eyes light up. ] So not human. I've known of a few here, but I don't think I've ever met any personally. Your world is ahead of mine in more ways than one. [ He cracks a crooked smile. ] Mine can barely tolerate someone from a neighbouring country, let alone a neighbouring species.

[ The way that Jim speaks of Spock feels familiar to Claude. It's the way that the other lords spoke of their retainers, he realizes, and vice versa, those long years of hardship suffered together creating a bond far stronger than Claude had ever felt in his life, the sort of implicit trust between people who live and eat and bathe and cry together. He's always been a little envious of those who have achieved that sort of thing, while being ultimately unwilling to make any moves towards it himself. ]

That's the way to do it, though. I've always found that we have more to learn from each other than we do to dislike about each other, if we approach things with an open mind. [ He bites his tongue to keep from saying more; this is a subject near and dear to his heart, but betraying just how much is betraying more fundamental truths about himself. ]

So. What was the culture clash, exactly?

[finalfrontiersman]

[ Jim almost tells Claude that Spock is half-human, though he manages to suppress the instinct. He's either tired enough he's slipping, or perhaps Claude is just too personable (probably a bit of both) - but while that's more common knowledge where Jim is from, it's not common knowledge here, and it's something Jim knows Spock can get...tetchy about. Probably best to let it come from him, and not let Claude unwittingly walk into a Defensive Vulcan Argument. ] It took time for all of us to learn to get along. It still takes work, but that's part of our mission. Glories of peacekeeping.

[ And there were always threats to that peace, constantly, and sometimes, they won. Jim takes another sip of his coffee, pulling himself out of the inevitable thoughts - it's no surprise it's all on the forefront of his mind lately, after the meld he'd shared with Spock upon arrival, comparing and contrasting the differences in their universes. Something like that's bound to make anyone pensive.

Still, the way he talks about Spock remains the same transparent, blaring, no matter which one he's talking about - they are all his friend, his trusted companion. That's one thing Jim has never doubted, on all the paths they've walked together. ]

I agree, though it's usually easier said than done. [ Understatement, but Jim offers a smile, crossing his ankles over each other as he stretches out his back. ] It's a long story, and not one that's fun when you're sober, if I'm totally honest.

[ From what Jim knows of Claude's own war back home, he's sure he'll understand what he means by that. ]

But, the short of it is, [ He blows out a breath, running his free hand over the top of his head, mussing his hair. It's started to get longer, not quite out of regulation yet but on its way, since arriving here in Aldrip. ] The Vulcans hold onto this idea of logic as the ultimate rule. Humans are...the antithesis of that. We have the capacity for logic, sure, but we're ruled by our emotions. We're loud and illogical, and sometimes that's...better. Sometimes that's necessary.

We had this test, at the Academy. [ Jim gestures to the station he's working on vaguely. ] A simulation designed to test cadets on their Command fitness. Spock was the proctor and architect of the test. It was designed to be unbeatable, and I took...offense.

[ It's true, looking back on it; Jim knows his lack of proportional response was definitely tied up in some pesky human emotions. ] So I hacked it to prove a point, and he brought me up on academic integrity charges. Things kind of...spiraled, from there.

[ Due to a very high pressure situation, but they came out of it the other side alright. ]

[feintofhart]

Hah. Our worlds aren't so different after all, then. Disparity in technology aside, I met most of my comrades through an international Academy too -- and boy, did you see people butt heads. Nothing like getting people from a bunch of different backgrounds together and throwing them at each other to breed cooperation. Or resentment, depending on how pig-headed you happen to be.

[ Mostly resentment, as it turns out. But Claude likes to think that if it weren't for Edelgard's early declaration of war, they would have all learned how to cooperate with one another by the end of it. He'll never know now, more's the pity, but at least the analogue works well enough, as different as their backgrounds may be. ]

Sometimes it's conflict that breeds the best of friends. [ Or more, he thinks, reflecting upon his own parents, falling in love from opposite sides of a battlefield. ] So. He pissed you off, you pissed him off, and then both of you saw the light about how you need both kinds of thinking to get through difficult situations.

[ And presumably Spock started off as his superior, before their positions swapped. Now that's interesting. ]

Were you two placed on the same ship, or did you choose to join up together?

[finalfrontiersman]

That'll do it. It's always easier in theory than it is in execution. [ Jim snorts, memories of cultural sensitivities gone by running through his mind. The only words in Andorian he knew were specifically to start a barfight, which probably wasn't helping his case. ] Xenophobia has a tendency to jump out, but those cadets don't last very long.

[ It seems Jim's initial estimation of Claude was holding up; a military man with a breadth of experience and knowledge, despite whatever differences in details their worlds might hold. Some truths, about character and morality, remained the same - and it was always good to find those people, and work together. ]

Oh, it definitely bred something. [ Said with a laugh, Jim's oblivious to any other undertones. "It" also got Jim nearly choked half to death, but that was more his own fault than anything else. He was, admittedly, very much asking for it. ] We did. It wasn't easy, but the best things rarely are, right? He still frustrates me sometimes and I'm sure I do the same but - I understand it now.

[ This much is also true, and part of a much larger, mind-boggling tale. One that the Spock here doesn't share in full, but Jim continues to omit that portion of the story; he can only speak to his own history, anyhow. ]

I was promoted in the field, and the promotion was upheld after the battle. The Admirals gave me the ship's commission, and I...persuaded Mr. Spock to join my command team. [ Jim smiles to himself with a shake of his head, blue eyes full of amusement. ] He played hard to get, but get him I did.

[feintofhart]

Being chased is all part of the game. So I've heard, anyway. Always the chaser, never the chasee, [ Claude says with a dramatic sigh, clicking his tongue and cocking his hip to the side as though reflecting on the dire tragedy it is to be the thorn in everyone's side instead of the other way around.

Still, the way Jim is talking about his experience with the world is... encouraging. Claude has been away from home for far, far too long, but even acknowledging that biases against foreigners exist is too much for most people around him. He's heard the way they speak of his kin; huge, fearsome, covered in fur, fangs for teeth, violent beyond compare, horror, horror, horror!

And around every corner, Claude looks for proof. Proof that mankind can learn to shed the chains of prejudice, that they could look at another quite unlike them for who they are instead of the nature of their birth. If a human and an alien can do it, then certainly neighbouring countries can do it, right?

He says none of this. He has not, historically, said any of this out loud before. Just that much would be political suicide. Still, there is something invested in his returning smile. ]

That's the thing about -- xenophobia, you called it? We have no such word where we're from, but I can glean its definition. You can't rid the world of that sort of thing altogether. But you can make it so that others will regret voicing it, right? I doubt you hire many of those sorts on your ship. They probably wouldn't get on with your second in that case. Are most people on your ship your... species, I suppose I'd say? Or is it a more multicultural affair?

[finalfrontiersman]

Oh, now that is a shame! [ Jim laughs, muffling the sound into his coffee cup so it doesn't travel too far across the room and disturb the other occupants. Claude's energy always seems to match his and it's a welcome upheaval to the drum and droll. ] Who knows, you may yet have your turn.

[ Jim's been pretty good so far about keeping the future knowledge under wraps - it's bad enough, introducing space travel where it might not have existed previously, but as far as Jim can tell, he and Spock are from at least 200 years in the future of Aldrip's current state. It's a small surprise, sometimes, to remember just how bad the history in those preceding 200 years was - the atomic fallout, the wars, the reconstruction period.

All told, Jim and Spock certainly are the proof Claude is looking for, but they are the product of a significantly long period of strife, and many brave souls before them. ]

Yes, it's a fear and intolerance of those you consider other; from other countries, or in this case, planets. [ Jim nods, dropping his legs from the relaxed position and leaning forward towards the discussion. ] No, you can't, but the first part of combating it is getting rid of bystander syndrome; getting those who would stay silent to speak up. And - you're right, I definitely wouldn't have any part of that on my ship. Though it's almost tempting, since I pity the ignorant bastard who has to contend with Spock when he's in rare form.

[ Watching his First Officer verbally eviscerate those who deserved it was almost a combat sport, at least, the way Spock did it. Or maybe that was just Vulcans. ]

Most are human, which is something we're trying to change. [ It's a constant work in progress and something that Jim's thought about quite often, all the different slices of life that makes up their ship. Male, female, Xers, and other genders - the balance of species, cultural backgrounds, everything. ] We're the flagship of the fleet, the newest, with all the shiniest toys. They send us out on a lot of diplomatic missions, and one thing I do my best to push for as a representative of the Federation is recruitment.

[ Some would argue this is less glamorous part of Jim's job, maybe, and yet, Jim knew it was also the most important. When Pike had picked him up off the floor of a townie bar, Jim had known it to be true. You understand what the Federation is, don't you? It's important. It's a peacekeeping and humanitarian armada. How could they be expected to keep peace if they didn't listen to other voices and form covenants, bonds across the divides? ] But we do have others. Within Starfleet, we have about 150 species represented. Amongst my own crew, the second highest species are Orions, and the third, Betazoids.

[feintofhart]

A fear and intolerance of those you consider other... I see.

[ To hear it put so baldly like that is a surprise. It stirs something deep in his chest, a thing he's had to keep stifled for years in favour of dealing with the problems in front of him instead of the ones the dog at his heels, an ever-present weight upon his shoulders, leaden in his stomach, this horrible, nameless thing he's battled against his entire life. And Jim says it like it's nothing, like this is a commonplace concept. To have a word for it doesn't solve the problem. But it's something more than what Claude's world has. Names have power, and once you give something a name, you're one step closer to doing something about it, one step convincing other people that they should give a shit about it too.

Still, he doesn't show how much having a word for the concept has stalled him in his tracks, still nodding along to Jim's words. ]

Change doesn't happen overnight. Mostly human is still very different from all human. But... for a job as valuable as yours, it would certainly send a message to change it up a bit. That as a diplomatic fleet, you represent all lives, not just the ones that look and act a specific way.

[ That Jim is a part of diplomatic missions, too, explains a lot about his demeanor. Like recognizes like. ]

Sounds like you're well on your way on your path. You're not long in the tooth yet -- you've got time to make sure whoever inherits your role has a better starting off point than you did. How many species are there out in that big old universe of yours, anyway?

[finalfrontiersman]

[ Jim sips the coffee, watching Claude process the information for a beat. While his countenance is smooth, it is perhaps in the space between that Jim finds the most meaning. He is, after all, accustomed to reading Spock - what would amount to an ironclad poker face in many other's estimations. It's not that Jim could guess at what lies beneath - he doesn't know Claude as well as the Commander - but by virtue of just how smooth it is, he could hazard a guess and say that there's something there.

Then again, perhaps he needn't bother extrapolating. It's as he said - this was the boring part of his job, to most. The fact that Claude was bothering to ask about it at all when space and aliens were on the table said something, all on its own.

Still, Jim doesn't question him, for the moment. For all that Jim has drawn similarities between the two of them, this too is an area where they are aligned: some bonds were forged in fire, but earning deeper trust took time. However open Jim was with certain details - there was more still that remained in obfuscation. He's sure this is true of Claude as well, who speaks as vaguely as he can get away with about the war he left behind. Some wounds are fresh, after all - or perhaps, they never heal at all. ]

It's a start. We've had some non-human command teams on ships before. The Intrepid has an all-Vulcan crew. [ A simple answer - couched expertly in interesting trivia - to a complex question. Jim offers no further explanation for his apparent youth. The fact that Spock is just shy of a decade his senior is evident - but the fact remains that Jim is the one wearing the Captain's rank. Surely, there is a reason - let ne'er-do-wells discover why at their peril.

Friends, well, he'd need something a helluva lot stronger than coffee. ]

Oh, too many to count. Twenty-three-hundred-something, last I checked. [ Jim grins, easy and affable, eyebrows rising towards his hair. ] But the world as we know it gets bigger every day.