The locked console gave a gentle trilling chime and McCoy looked over at it.
It didn't make that sound very often but, from the slowly spreading smile on his face, it was evident that he appreciated when it did.
The smile only widened as he read
the communication sent from Earth. He readjusted himself in his pants as he scanned the words a
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It was early in the day but fuck, it was vacation.
He waited until Kirk had his drink in hand and he'd settled himself on the other end of the sofa, turned to face his guest.
"I reckon you can pass the time telling me about Tarsus IV."
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"That's--" His voice was suddenly hoarse, and he noted his mouth was entirely dry. Unthinking, he downed more than half the drink at once, coughing as it burned a trail to his suddenly bottomless gut. "That's classified."
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"And I reckon I've earned the security clearance to hear about it."
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Kirk didn't like thinking about it. Even less so now, when the memories looked too much like the mirror.
"If you know I was there, you know when," he said, finally looking up though only with his eyes. It gave him a hooded, haunted look, unconsciously mimicking those he saw in his mind's eye. "So you know I turned 14 during the famine and the massacre. I survived. You do the math."
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The thought of her giving it up for that slitdick galled him.
"Math ain't my specialty. And we've got nowhere else to go, Blue. I suspect it's time for you to tell me a goddamn story."
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"And when you came back?"
He'd read all the reports on Tarsus, had been old enough - and mature enough - when it was happening to appreciate the stupidity of it in a way the other bloodthirsty fools in his class had not.
Waste not, want not, his granny had always said. And Tarsus had been pure wasteful.
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He'd been someone on Tarsus.
"So I said fuck it, and left home. Did my own thing until Pike convinced me Starfleet was the answer." He bit that off bitterly. He hadn't had much choice, once Pike was done with him. And part of him had been able to appreciate that Starfleet did offer something to his ambition.
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He'd only hurt the one of them.
"Why'd he hide it for you?"
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"The supermax wing of the old US Pen in Atlanta."
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"Guess that's classified, too," he said slowly.
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But there was still something in his eyes, those green and amber pools, that looked like decay: long-past dead, scattered remnants of prey upon whom he had feasted.
"I apparently make some people fucking nervous. Of course, I have no goddamn idea why."
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"Who's got the skinny on you? Other than Pike?"
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"No fucking clue. Pike called in a goddamn favor or three - which he held over me like a fucking sword but he never would shitting tell me who. He ain't stupid."
McCoy's gaze flickered back over to the console that had been so active.
"Jos, of course. But that's different."
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But he didn't ask if it really was different, or how. He knew he'd have to keep an ear out for this woman. If McCoy thought he could trust her, well... McCoy was crazy.
But he was interested. And that touched Kirk deeper than he knew.
"She knows about me."
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