Chapter 4: Choices
The top deck of the Proto-Tethys is an open expanse topped with a translucent protection shield that shimmers from the round lights burning around the deck. Beyond the shield, space is a midnight blue blanket full of tiny white pinpricks of light. The deck is flat and metallic gray with a high three-railed safety wall around its perimeter. Ambassador Watson snaps a quick salute to the members of the Admiral's crew that have gathered here in an attempt to be chosen to accompany on their next expedition.
John gives all of the uniformed crew members-male and female, alien and human-a quick once-over. He quickly repeats some of the points that the captain is looking for in a crew in his mind. Several of the crew assembled here seem to fit that bill, though only some sparring time in the public access room will show John whether he is correct; there he can more accurately gauge strengths and weaknesses.
He feels the heft of the responsibility on his shoulders, knowing full well that any mistake in trusting a comrade is the difference between life and death when exploring a completely unknown world. He allows his mind to wander back to a picture frozen in his mind of his tall, pale lover spinning a pair of swords in his hands. He considers briefly that learning to depend on someone other than the captain again is going to be difficult.
John slowly walks through the ranks that are divided into two lines of uniformed crew standing at attention. Their uniforms are neatly turned-out, insignia and boots spit-shined as if coming out for the Admiral himself. John clasps his hands behind his back and his body moves purposely, his eyes flicking over the eyes of whatever being he stops in front of. He purposely waits until the being either gives him complete eye contact or looks away. That is his first test and it helps him make his first cut. He casually strides over towards the exit doors and extracts his e-book from his pocket. A single flick of his finger brings up the roster, though he had it memorized earlier this morning. As the beings are standing in alphabetical order, it is not a difficult task to remember who is who. He calls out the names of the beings he desires to test further.
"When I call your name, please step forward. Awaks, Keller, Lestrade, Smith, and Storya." Four humans: three male, one female and two Alien beings: a female Telom and a male Odal that reminds John more than a little of Tony. John clears his throat and punches the keypad on the lift. The doors open. He hits another button and they remain that way. "If you have been called out, please meet me in Public Access Room" he pauses, double-checks the e-book, "…three. I will see you in ten minutes. The rest of you may return to your duties." He notes the sea of heads nodding in his direction. "Snap to it." He growls at them, letting his inner drill instructor out to play. He watches as the crew members that he has picked move past him in double-time, a few of them even offering a small salute in his direction. If nothing else, his day just got more interesting.
Once the deck is empty again, John casts a glance out towards the stars. They are moving back in the direction of his home galaxy, somewhere they have not been in well over a single Earth year. He is surprised that he does not miss it as much as he at first believed he would: perhaps home is more than just a planet or a place, perhaps it's a person. He shakes his head from the deep thoughts and moves back into teacher/instruction mode. John taps out a quick message to the captain and steps into the lift.
When the doors slide open again to admit John to the Level Three corridor, he finds himself standing in front of a group of people unable to enter. He gives them a nod as he works his way through them to lay his hand, palm down, flat against the door. As always, the doors swish open but this time a light layer of fog rolls out into the corridor. John was prepared for this moment, though he finds that words simply do not do it justice.
Instead of the dark gray walls and black floors that he remembers from the first time he was ever in a PA room, this one is filled with huge vermillion and scarlet plants. The floor is soft, grass and a trail of what appears to be woodchips underneath. A trail opens up in front of him with branches that lead straight on, to the left, and to the right. The ceiling is a dark blue sky complete with heavy clouds as if a thunderstorm is threatening just off the horizon. Lightning actually flashes out in the distance and thunder rumbles overhead, but no rain falls. John takes a deep breath and notes the slightly woody perfume of the air around him. He turns to the crew members crowded behind him, smiles and opens his arms wide.
"We could not quite recreate Pandora, though the captain feels this is close enough to give you an idea of the terrain we will be working on." He gives them a few moments to glance around themselves. He notes that three of them already look quite comfortable; of those three, two of them, a human male and a Telom female are looking his way as if awaiting further instruction. Good, he thinks to himself. This may not be so difficult, after all. "On my mark, spread out and try to stay alive!" John shouts, barely masking a short burst of laughter. Of all the things that he has done since accepting the Admiral's job, this is one of his very favorites; well, next to the Admiral's little brother, that is.
The crew members break and disappear into the massive foliage; in singles and in pairs. He notes that the tall, willowy Telom goes her own way. He is most wary of her but he quickly admonishes himself for feeling that way. Just because one tried to kill him does not mean they all will. He toes off his boots and removes today's red shirt. He lays his things in a neat bundle nearest where the door would be if he could still see it and then makes his way down the trail, moving silently on bare feet.
It only takes John ten minutes to track down the first two hopefuls: two humans by the name of Paul Tunis and Betty Smith. They are hidden well enough, but as soon as John had Paul wrestled to the ground, Betty made the mistake of thinking that John was incapacitated at that point. John pins the taller, more muscular Paul down with one hand and taps his broad chest with his index finger before lurching upward and flipping over, effectively trapping the petite Betty underneath him. Neither of them heard John padding softly on the soles of his feet and neither of them know that this was the same move Sherlock used all that time ago the first time he ambushed him. It is all good, and they all have a laugh, then Paul and Betty leave the room side-by-side. There are no hurt feelings, because they all know that no matter how good they are, Captain Holmes is a tough taskmaster and he only chooses the best.
Captain Holmes turns away from the com-screen in their quarters as it goes dark and drops his feet to the floor. He carefully scrutinized each choice that the Ambassador made and finds himself respecting his lover more with each crew member that entered the PA room. John knew that he was going to be watching, though Sherlock could tell that knowledge did not affect any of his decisions. He is mystified over John's choice in the Telom. He knows that John's mind is on Sherlock's safety first, then their mission, and then his own life; though in his mind, the order would be quite the opposite.
"Excellent. " He says quietly. He will give them a good head start and then he will join in, hopefully after the weaker ones are out of the game. He begins unbuttoning his shirt and toeing his boots off in preparation. He adjusts his trousers, slowly pulling the leather belt from its loops. He leaves their quarters, ready to bring these newbies to task.
John is closing in on Jason Keller. Jason has made mistakes all along: leaving footprints in the dust at the base of some huge trees, and simply not paying close enough attention to the little details that mark his passing. John crouches on the opposite side of the tree underneath where the short, thin, dark-haired Jason is standing on a branch making no effort to hide. Apparently, Jason sees nothing so he drops down from the branch, his boots slamming hard against the ground. That is John's cue, and he takes it swiftly, rushing Jason and knocking him to the ground.
This really ticks Jason off and he begins kicking and punching at John. John is not offended, though he takes it as a challenge to keep the younger man down. John pushes against Jason's shoulders and pulls his head to one side to avoid a right cross to the side of his face. John isn't quite fast enough, though, as Jason's left hand smashes against the side of his jaw. John instantly lets go and rolls to his side away from the angry youth.
Jason is furious and he makes it to his feet to stand, shaking as he shouts at John. "You tricked me! You fucking tricked me! I am a com-engineer, not a fucking trail master! What kind of game is this? Fuck you and fuck Captain Holmes!" John sets his mouth in a hard, thin line and waits for Jason to leave. Thankfully, as the young man approaches the entrance, the doors swish open and a pair of the largest Gribs that John has ever seen each lay one huge, seven-fingered hand on Jason's shoulders. Yeah, not an escort he would desire in a rage, either. Hopefully, they will escort him all the way off of the Proto-Tethys and John won't have to deal with him again.
John rubs at his jaw just as a sudden movement beyond a stand of wide, flat amethyst leaves catches his eye. He turns his head in the direction of the movement only to be practically flattened by a hyper-actively tentacle-waving, very excited Odal. The pale green being is making snorting noises through his nasal tentacle and waving two of the long, fleshy arms from the sides of his body in the air in triumph as the remainder of them hold John to the ground.
Of course, John cannot help but laugh. Ambushed by an Odal! Odals are the one race notoriously well-known for being unable to silence themselves, even at the best of times. He raises one of his hands in the air and the Odal gives him a rather sticky high-five of sorts and then pushes himself backward to allow John to sit up.
"Hey, George!" George trumpets loudly, his huge blue eyes giving John the joyful impression of a huge, smushy puppy; well, one that's also pale green in color, though John considers that George probably would not mind the analogy.
"Want to go along with me and see if we can track down that Telom and the other guy?" George gives a long whistle whilst waving his tentacles about himself. John takes that as the affirmative and they move off deeper into the brush. The Odal is noisy as he crashes through the foliage: occasionally one of his suckers gets stuck to a leaf or a branch, ripping it to shreds with a noise that seems to echo around the virtual world of the PA room. John knows better than to attempt to mask the sound and actually uses it to his benefit. As they move over a small rise, they look out over a field of greenish-blue vines. The last remaining human crew member that John chose this morning is seated just below one of the vines, only his hands and face barely visible among the dark plants. The Telom is nowhere in sight.
The sky above them has darkened and the sound of the thunder is increasing by tens of decibels. For a moment, John can actually believe they are on another planet when the terra firma beneath his feet vibrates from the rolling thunder. He gives George a look and points out towards his right side, cocking his head towards the left. George makes a soft hooting noise and slides in the direction John pointed. John moves back into the foliage at his back and proceeds around the edge of the field, taking caution with each step not to bend a blade of grass or snap a twig.
Greg Lestrade is probably five centimeters taller than Captain Holmes and of a similar build. His chest is wider and his arms are more fully muscled. His hair is dark brown, cut into military neatness and showing just a hint of grey at the temples. His dark brown eyes scan the area methodically as if he has experience in this arena.
John can see all of these details as he carefully creeps up the vine beside where Greg is seated. The vine is a deep green and the way the leaves grow out of it makes excellent steps, though not easy to navigate when one is hunched over the way John is at this point. John strains his ears, listening for any sound of George crashing through the field too soon. So far there's no sign of the Odal. John slowly makes his way around the vine until he is standing just behind Greg's right shoulder where he can make out his tattooed insignia against the tan bare skin. John slows down his inhalations and carefully reaches out to lay a hand on Greg's shoulder.
Greg jumps but does not cry out. Instead, he lets out a quick roundhouse that John ducks under. John grabs Greg's leg out of midair, yanking the other man to the ground. Greg falls hard with a thump, though he will only bruise his pride.
"Gotcha!" John grins down at him as he offers his hand. Greg takes it and stands beside John, knocking the dust off of the seat of his trousers. "Excellent hiding place, mate."
"Apparently not, if you found me so quickly!" Greg snorts and gives John a rather forcefully shake of the shoulder.
John holds out his hand and the two men shake. "John Watson."
"Greg Lestrade, though I already know who you are: one half of the Captain Holmes' legend." Greg offers, showing a full set of pearly whites; little wrinkles fan about his eyes when he smiles.
"Ha! You haven't been around much, then!" John gives a little chuckle.
"Yeah, got to tell you, mate, the stories spinning down on Earth about your little adventure with the Time Gate talked me into signing up for space duty."
John actually blushes. He had no idea. Apparently while they have been out researching new plants and animals all over the known and not so well known galaxies that their little adventure has made itself known on their home planet.
Greg pats him on the shoulder again. His palms and the underside of his fingers are rather rough. John correctly pins him as a working man. "Don't be embarrassed, Ambassador, it's a great thing you two did; and if it gets more of us out here, it can't be all that bad, right?"
John wonders for a second who Greg is trying to convince, John or himself, but before he can answer George comes hooting and snorting up to them. John introduces them and watches Greg's eyebrows attempt to creep up to his hairline. It is pretty obvious that he's never met an Odal before. John gives them a moment to get as acquainted as possible before asking if they are ready to go find the last crew member. Greg nods yes and George hoots and smacks his tentacles appreciatively. The three of them wind between the enormous vines back to the trail, John considering that perhaps the majority of the team has already been made.
Captain Holmes moves as efficiently on bare feet as he does in his boots. He crouches down like a cougar scanning for prey, his shining verdigris eyes not missing a single detail left on the trail ahead of him. He picks up a small handful of the woodchips and holds them up to his nose, taking in the slightly moldy, woodsy smell alongside that of his lover that he would recognize anywhere. Like dogs and cats, he knows humans leave their own traces from the pads of bare feet. He silently follows the trail, looks around the area where John caught up with the first hopeful; Sherlock reads the signs of the skirmish as if they spelled out what happened. He notes with some amusement that it seems John was surprised by an Odal, though he doesn't think less of his lover for that reason—he has always been friendly with the race as they have always managed to surprise even him with their abilities on and off of a ship.
Sherlock moves through the field of vines, his long legs making short work of the distance. Again he notices with satisfaction that John seems to have won the skirmish, though he concedes that the vines were an excellent hiding place and one that he would have used if necessary. He runs one hand across the smooth skin of the vine, noting its approximation of the real thing. As much as he would never admit it, he is actually starting to look forward to Mycroft's expedition.
The captain forges on ahead, the ground beneath his feet trembling with the rumble of thunder. His program is working flawlessly. He is quietly enjoying the success of this endeavor when something heavy lands on his back and he finds himself flat on the ground.