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]

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.