Unpacking

Posted on Tue Dec 10th, 2024 @ 8:54pm by Lieutenant Katherine "Kit" Vulpes & Lieutenant William Neil

1,332 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: In Between
Location: Kit's personal quarters

Kit pulled the stepstool and tool bag over to the wall in the living area of her quarters. She gestured over to her shoulder at the next crate in the stack. "That next one should be the weapons." She grinned. "I know you asked to see the art, but I'll openly admit to liking some of the weapons I've crafted."

"Who says weapons aren't art?" William asked with a chuckle as he opened the box and examined the contents.

With a firm grip he freed the first weapon, a longsword, from the box. He looked around and adjusted his grip before taking a slow stance and giving a slice through the air. The blade was plain, but much better than he could have made. He could feel the weight of the blade pull at his hand and grinned. "A working blade, classic."

He reached back into the box and pulled out the stand that accompanied the weapon before placing both gently on the nearby shelf. "Is here ok?"

Kit smirked as she stacked books--real books--on one of the other shelves. "That would be perfect. You look as if you've held one of those before."

"Not exactly a longsword." William replied with a sigh. "But you use what you can in a fight."

He looked back just as Kit was putting up the books and grinned. "Yours or a souvenir from the other Victory?"

Reaching back into the box, the klingon blade caught his eye. "Oh... and not just Earth weaponry it seems."

Kit chuckled. "These? I wasn't kidding when I said was raised in no-tech-land. The only technology was the weather control systems, and Papa still wrote down all of his repair notes and logs by hand on paper. I know I'm an engineer, but there's something I still enjoy about the smell of old books."

She reached down into her crate, pulling out a collection of leather-bound books that were obviously part of a set. "Be careful, the mek'leth is really sharp. I finished that one last year, and our Klingon operations officer wouldn't declare it satisfactorily complete until it was sharp enough to, and I quote, 'slice through the spine of a brush devil in one stroke'."

"A part of me would love to learn the proper techniques for some of these. Mostly to focus and such of course." He raised an eyebrow then and glanced at Kit. "Klingon Operations Officer you say? Last Klingon I saw in charge of a replicator was the crankiest man I'd ever dealt with."

He placed the mek'leth on the shelf before carefully reaching back into the crate. "And this... Andorian?"

Kit smiled. "Yep. That ones an Andorian Chaka. It's a ceremonial weapon, they're too heavy for functional use, unless you're engaging in some kind of an honor duel." She finished putting the last of the book collection on her shelf. "That one is my current project. The structure of the blade is complete, but I'm not a fan of the wrap I put on the grip. It's a heavier blade, so when my hand would get sweaty I just didn't feel like I had quite the control that I wanted over the weapon." She stepped down from the ladder. "And I think I want to do some kind of an etched pattern along the metal work. I still need to complete the design for that."

She made a small adjustment to the placement of the longsword on its stand, running her fingers over an imperfection in the metal. "You know, there was a time where I thought I would make a living doing this."

"Oh?" William replied with a raised eyebrow. "From metal working to sharship engineer? That's a bit of a tangent. Is there a story behind that?"

Kit let her fingers linger on the blade of the longsword. “My father died when I was sixteen. My mother died when I was much younger, so I was left in the care of my three older brothers. They were—concerned about my prospects, and wanted to arrange for a marriage.” She took a deep breath. “I was able to talk some sense into Malcom, the youngest of brothers. He bought a shuttle passage off world to the nearest starbase and put me on the transport without telling my brothers.”

She walked to one of the other crates, pulling out another handful of books. “The shuttle took me to Starbase 4112 and no further. I’ve been on my own since then.”

William nodded, digesting everything before speaking. "I wasn't aware of the culture on your home world." He paused while looking at one of the blades on the shelf. "I see you in your work. Tough and resilient, forged in fire and hard work. Becoming what you are meant to be."

He offered her a smile, hoping that his words matched the intent behind them.

Kit looked up, seeing the smile, and returned it. "Resilience was exactly what it was. As hard as it was for all of the crew to acclimate to a world without technology, I had to do the same in reverse. I arrived at the Starbase with no knowledge on how the rest of the universe worked. Replicators, holodecks, every tool and machine and console was all foreign to me." She chuckled. "One of the engineers found me lost waking around the docking ring and took pity on me. I lived on the Starbase for four years before I got my recommendation letter for the Academy."

She was quiet for a moment. "I suppose you've had your fair share of resilience as well."

William simply shrugged. People often told him that, but he didn't see it himself. "We just survived until we saw our chance. And took it."

"Part of me regrets not keeping in closer contact with some of them." William said half to himself. "We forged strong bonds through that time. But in the end seeing each other brought back bad memories and we drifted apart quickly."

He kept his next thought to himself but his face betrayed the horrifying implications of what was running through his mind. This jaunt through time could possibly make those three years look like a cruise.

Kit quietly listened as William talked. She set down the small stack of books she'd been holding and stepped over to the kitchen counter where they'd left both the bottle and their empty glasses. She poured a small amount into each glass, and returned to the crates, handing one of the glasses to William. She didn't speak, but just offered a nod and the alcohol.

He returned her nod and swirled the alcohol without looking at it. In one fluid movement, he downed the entire contents and didn't flinch.

"To surviving to fight another day." He said with a slight grin. "Probably should have said the toast before the drink..."

Kit gave a chuckle, downing her own glass in a quick swig...which, she mused, wasn't the way you were supposed to enjoy this old of a scotch. "Better to drink it while we still have the chance. It'd be a shame to be partway through the toast and to never get to savor the alcohol, right?" She gave him a wink.

"Of all the things to savour... Alcohol is second only to good company." William recited from memory. He paused as soon as the words came out of his mouth. "It's a saying I picked up from a comrade during the good times." He looked at his empty glass and then back to Kit. "And it certainly rings true here and now."

William clinked his empty glass against hers, since they were doing things backwards, and returned her playful wink.

"Well, in that case," Kit picked up the bottle, pouring a small amount anew into both of their glasses, "here's to making it back to our time to make memories in the good times, and to making good times in this timeline if we don't."

 

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