Alright let's do this.

[oldfashionedfutureboy]

 ...Clones?


Clones. You want me to go to a goddamn island in the goddamn future full of self aware clones.

And you want me to be a clone along with the rest of the madhouse.

No, no, and no. Not gonna happen. I don't care if there's a clone of Jim, I don't care if the whole damn command crew is there in clone form, I'm not going.  Between space or the clones, I'll take space in a heartbeat; flares and Klingons and hobgoblins and all.

Comments

[oldfashionedfutureboy]

Dammit, Jim.

[Cursing in the key of exasperation. Exhausted exasperation. Jail is, would be, rough as hell but there's yet to be anything that can hold Jim Kirk when he doesn't want to be held.]

How long have you been stuck with the Hobgoblin?

[kwirkin]

[So far, Blackwire seems to be keeping him in place nicely!]

'Bout a week? Spock could probably tell you right down to the minute, but it's been about a week.

It's really weird being somewhere without replicators, by the way.

[oldfashionedfutureboy]

I can't talk to you while you're bleeding like some idiot hoodlum. Get over here, kid.

[He's got a dermal regenerator somewhere on his belt. And several hypos because you just do when working on the Enterprise. Someone's always hurt. Usually it's Jim. Mostly it's Jim. Hell, always.]

[kwirkin]

[NO HYPOS, YOU SADIST.]]

What? No, I'm fine. Look! Fine. I'm good.

...Actually, they did stick a chip in my neck.

[oldfashionedfutureboy]

A chip?! What do they think you are, a prize bull? Come here and let me see.

[He is in no mood for hypo dodging tricks, Jim. He will wrangle you if he has to, and if he has to he'll get angry.]

[kwirkin]

You're the one that thinks I'm a prize bull, with all the poking and prodding! Here.

[Bones you are a jerk do not hypo him okay]

You should see some of the ones the long-time residents have. They are all kinds of proud of their neck chips.

[oldfashionedfutureboy]

No, I think you're a tragic example of negligent health. Now hold still.

[No hypo, not yet, but there is a firm hand on the back of one of Jim's shoulders to hold him in place. Not unlike holding a cat by the scruff. Both are weaselly little bastards.]

Why the hell'd they stick you with one? Tagging?

[Out comes the ever familiar tricorder.]

[kwirkin]

[WOULD YOU STOP THAT]

Well, it's a prison so...yeah. Tagging.

[oldfashionedfutureboy]

[Are you still James T Kirk? Yes? Then never.

He doesn't like the look of what it tells him and yeah, ninja hypo snapping out to jab at him in the side of the neck.]

Just tagging? I've heard stories about implanted bombs in some prisons.

[kwirkin]

Gah! Stop that!

[Come on, he hasn't even had any allergic reactions to things in there yet, was that really necessary?]

I've been informed it's not a bomb, so at least I don't have to worry about my head exploding.

[Yet.]

[oldfashionedfutureboy]

Stop whining!

[It's just a precautionary antibiotic, christ. Stop being a child.]

Do you know where this place is? Are you vaccinated for everything? The last thing you want in the middle of an escape is a case of the Kamaraazite flu.

[kwirkin]

All I know is they pretty clearly don't have warp technology so wherever it is, Starfleet doesn't have any contact with it. Which makes me wonder how I even got there.

[You stay away from him he sees that other hypo]

[oldfashionedfutureboy]

You have a habit of falling into impossible situations all the time, Jim. Prison on a pre-warp planet isn't the worst thing to happen to you.

[And an immune booster while he's got him. It's always harder to get the second shot is but the hand on Jim's shoulder slides to his nape so he can make the jab quick and clean.]

[kwirkin]

[At this point, Kirk is resigned to his fate as Bones' glorified medical test subject. Kirk's life is hard. :(]

Prison on a pre-warp planet with none of my crew and where I'm surrounded by actual felons? It's got the potential to be pretty bad, I won't lie.

[oldfashionedfutureboy]

[He wouldn't hypo him if he didn't care. A little. A lot. Quit being a baby, Jim.]

How many fights have you ended up in?

[Because he's Jim and brawls come as naturally as breathing.]

[kwirkin]

[bones is a sadist, don't lie]

I wouldn't call them fights.

[oldfashionedfutureboy]

[It's payback for all the migraines.]

What in the hell would you call them, Jim? Polite disagreements?

[kwirkin]

Mild altercations.

[oldfashionedfutureboy]

[Yeah, he's getting a more thorough once over now, the tricorder picks up most but McCoy's always needed to look at bruises and lacerations himself, put his hands on them and feel the abuse in his patients. It's an antiquated thing, but it's how he works.

Neck to shoulders to biceps and he's grumbling all the while.]

Can't ever learn to keep your damn mouth shut, can you?

[kwirkin]

[More like McCoy needs to put his hands on his patients and abuse them.]

In my defense, I did apologize for stepping on his tail. And...how was I supposed to know that not everyone keeps their genitals in the same place?

[oldfashionedfutureboy]

You took the same Xenobiology and anatomy courses as every other student in the command track. Did you forget it already?

[kwirkin]

[This face.

mutter mutter that only works for classified races mutter mutter]

[oldfashionedfutureboy]

What's the first rule? Assume extra appendages are extra sensitive.

[Really, Jim. He can't even with you. At all.]

[kwirkin]

See, this is what happens when you're not around, Bones. I forget these things.

[...]

Pretend I didn't just say that, I'm being used as a not-very-subtle mouthpiece by a mun who would like a cast.

[This face. Again.]

[oldfashionedfutureboy]

She wants a cast?

[He snorts, clapping Jim on the shoulder.]

I'll give 'em one alright. A full plaster one like they used in the dark ages. Sticking you in a prison with chips and only Spock for company's just cruel.