I do not own Supernatural or Star Trek 2009. I'm just playing with the characters and I promise to put them back. Eventually.
This is an idea that has been bugging me for a while and had the nerve to grow a plot. For fans of Supernatural – there be no ghoulies, ghosties or long-legged beasties here. There are, however, lots of favourite main characters, action, humour and yes, some swearing.
On another note – I've tried to be at least a little accurate and did some research. However, I am a Literature major. I may have some…creative scientific elements.
Newly minted Captain James T. Kirk of the Federation starship Enterprise stared at his mentor Admiral Pike in utter dismay.
"They want the Enterprise to do what?" he demanded incredulously.
Pike shrugged helplessly. "I don't like it either Jim, but I can't do much more than voice my disapproval. The rest of the Admiralty demands that the flagship take on the full responsibilities of such."
Kirk snorted. "You mean they want the youngest, greenest flagship crew the Federation has ever seen to fail epically so that they can replace us all with someone older and more malleable."
Pike leaned forward, face serious. "Can't deny that. Think about it this way Jim. You need to establish credibility. Accomplish this mission and next time you decide to do something radical, they'll have a harder time saying no."
The young captain leaned back in his chair, digesting the idea. Pike was right, of course, but that didn't change the fact that this challenge was going to be extremely dangerous at best. "Fine. But do we get anything in terms of reinforcement?"
Pike cracked his first smile. "Oh, you get reinforcement all right. Chandra said two other ships – the Constellation and the Impala."
Kirk still didn't see the reason for Pike's smile. "One more Constitution class ship and a Miranda class? The Constellation's almost ready for scrap and the Impala's a little small for this mission. Sir, with respect…" Pike continued to grin, a slightly mischievous light creeping into his eyes.
"You haven't heard who's commanding the Impala?" he asked and Kirk felt like he was groping in the dark.
"I've been learning how to be a captain on the fly while trying to keep a group of ambassadors from killing each other for the past week. I haven't had the time to keep up with all the personnel changes. Sir."
Pike's grin grew. "Let's just say that you and Captain Winchester will get along swimmingly."
Two hours later, the Enterprise had unloaded her quarrelling diplomats and was on her merry way towards impeding doom as a curious captain, stoic first officer and grumbling CMO met for a brainstorm.
"All right," Kirk began in his ready room. "Our orders are quite simple. The Klingons have crossed into the Neutral Zone and are blockading a major science outpost located on the planet BD-2395. At present, automated planetary defences are holding but projections indicated that they will fail within the next week under current bombardment. Our orders are to extract the scientists and their sensitive research. The Constellation and the Impala are to assist us."
McCoy scowled and eyed his captain carefully. "If it's simple, why the meeting?" Kirk pulled up the mission report and pointed wordlessly at the reported enemy vessels.
"This is a joke, right Jim?" McCoy demanded after a moment. "Eight Klingon birds of prey against two Constitution ships and one Miranda? We'll be lucky to show our noses and get away clean!"
Spock was still silent and Kirk waited patiently. "I do not understand," the first officer finally concluded. "The Admiralty cannot expect us to succeed."
"That's the point," Kirk replied and held up a hand before his CMO could explode into a verbal tirade. "We could refuse our orders. But then that'd be admitting to the higher-ups that we can't do our jobs. We'd be broken up and removed from command within a few months and there'd be nothing we could do about it. Pike says that the Impala and her crew will be a huge help."
Spock tipped his head to one side. "I do not understand how Captain Winchester will be of great assistance as inferred by Admiral Pike."
McCoy was less diplomatic. "Hell Jim, his record reads almost exactly like yours!"
Kirk grinned expansively and shrugged. "I think I could like a guy who would run his half-staffed Miranda-class ship through a meteor field, shaking three birds of prey to make sure a planet of colonists got an essential vaccine in time."
"It was not his ship at the time," Spock noted. "He should have told Starfleet Command that both the captain and first officer had succumbed to the disease. And he declared his brother first officer. That decision would sound circumspect at best."
Kirk wasn't concerned. "Starfleet clearly doesn't care that much. They haven't contested his choice. At any rate, I don't want to judge the guy until I've met him. We'll rendezvous in half an hour. Until then Spock and I will meet with Chekov, Scotty and a couple others to hammer out a few ideas."
"Captain," Uhura interrupted a short time later, "we're receiving hails from the Constellation and the Impala." Kirk shoved away from the table and stood.
"All right everyone. Let's go play nice with others." He was feeling slightly better about this mission after tossing plans around with the bright minds of his crew, although the statistics of success still weren't all that great.
When Kirk reached the bridge, the view-screen snapped on, split between the silver-haired, florid and unfriendly Captain Matthew Plank and a rugged, strongly featured man about Kirk's age – Captain Dean Winchester. "Captains," Kirk greeted amiably.
The Constellation's bridge matched the Enterprise's almost perfectly but the crew were considerably older and to Kirk's chagrin, almost all of them appeared Starfleet regulation inflexible.
The Impala's bridge was far more interesting. An older vessel but in impeccable condition, the crew seemed a rather motley mix of characters. Captain Dean Winchester was relaxed yet concentrated in his chair. His science officer and first officer Commander Sam Winchester was watching Kirk's own bridge with keen attention.
"Captain, Captain," Winchester replied. "So. It seems we've been handed a challenge. Ideas?"
Kirk leaned forward in his chair and was going to voice an opinion when Captain Plank broke in, glancing at all the bridge crews listening in. "I think we should carry this conversation out in private?" It wasn't really a suggestion and Kirk had to fight to keep a neutral expression on his face. He liked having his crew listening in. They were smart. They had ideas too.
"Certainly, Captain. Would you and Captain Winchester care to hold the meeting on the Enterprise? Additional personnel would be welcome, naturally." Kirk tried his best to be diplomatic. Winchester nodded easily enough, though he didn't look exactly happy and the captain only replied "Plank out," so Kirk assumed the prickly Plank would be joining them.
He met the arrivals in the transporter room. To his amusement, the captain had brought his first, second and third officers with him, all flanking Plank with military precision. The short and portly captain did not seem the adventuresome type at all, clinging to his subordinates like they were part of his uniform.
Winchester on the other hand, had only brought his brother and contrived to make a better entrance. Captain Dean Winchester seemed like a beer drinking, bar fighting, honest man with an electric charisma that nettled and made a good impression at the same time. It didn't hurt that his supposedly-little brother was a hulking six-foot four inches of solid muscle, fully three inches taller than Captain Winchester or Kirk and five inches taller than Captain Plank.
Kirk swung out an expansive arm towards the door and Plank stalked out, followed by his toadies. Frowning, Kirk fell into step with Winchester. "Who pissed in his Wheaties this morning?" Winchester grumbled under his breath and Kirk cut a glance towards the other captain, pretty sure he wasn't supposed to have heard that.
"Don't know, but if he won't pull his weight, we're all going to end up toasted," Kirk ventured anyway, hoping for an ally.
"Damn straight. This whole mission sucks," Winchester agreed. "I assume your Vulcan there has a few ideas? Sam's been hoping they could brainstorm together."
Kirk shrugged. "Don't see a problem with that."
Winchester nodded abruptly, cutting the conversation as the ready room doors swished open.
The meeting in Kirk's ready room was tense. With Plank convinced he had been assigned this mission with two rookie maverick captains as divine punishment, Kirk and Winchester had their work cut out for them.
"There's six hundred and fifteen people on that planet in need of rescuing," Kirk finally stated baldly in exasperation. "Whether or not we like it, we have to get them out of there and these are the cards we've been dealt. If you don't want to face off with the Klingons, would you at least run the gauntlet, get in behind the planetary defences and rescue the scientists? Enterprise can cover your entry and the Impala can stand off to swoop in behind the Klingons after we've engaged."
Plank frowned and opened his mouth but Winchester cut him off. "That seems to be the simplest, most effective plan. I'd suggest the Impala for the rescue, but we can't carry that many people and still maintain over warp 9."
Plank heaved a put-upon sigh and agreed reluctantly, his third officer scribbling notes furiously, probably for the inquiry the captain no doubt planned to lodge as soon as they returned to space-dock.
"This of course, all hinges upon the planetary defences still being up," Commander Winchester contributed for the first time. "If they're down, the Constellation won't have the time necessary to beam all the personnel up."
Spock nodded. "The commander's point is relevant. If the planetary defences are inoperable, we will have to either stall the Klingons or engage them to the point where they cannot afford to attack the Constellation."
Captain Winchester shrugged. "If the defences are up or down is moot at this point. We'll deal with that when we come to it." Kirk agreed, Plank couldn't disagree and the meeting adjourned.
"Why was I even there? Why was this held on the ship?" McCoy demanded as Kirk saw his fellow captains off.
"Because the captain is being an ass," Kirk replied. "He's worked too hard for his position and refuses to do anything to endanger that rank, including threatening his ship. He won't engage the Klingons unless it's ridiculously obvious that he's going to win. Winchester on the other hand is prepared to rescue those people and do whatever it takes. Two out of three determined to win – those aren't bad odds."
"Captain Kirk seems all right," Sam commented on the blond, blue-eyed Enterprise captain as Dean stormed towards the bridge.
"Oh yeah, he's a swell guy," Dean shot over his shoulder, half sarcastic, "but I wasn't worried about him. Any dude willing to take on impossible odds to save the Earth will gamble on poor odds to save six hundred scientists. It's Plank I'm worried about."
He stomped onto the bridge and into his chair. "Cas, set in a course for BD-2395." The quiet, dark-haired pilot complied with an acknowledgement. Punching his communicator, Dean snapped out "Bridge to engineering. Bobby, we're going into battle and we'll need everything we can get from the engines. Sam, cast a ship-wide broadcast outlining the situation."
The bridge immediately sprang to life as the ship went to yellow-alert. Confirming coordinates with the Enterprise and the Constellation, all three ships sprang to warp at the same time.
"Here we go," Dean muttered. "Times like this, I wish I had Kirk's nice big phasers and shields."
Sam chuckled. "But then you'd have 431 people under you instead of 219 and the admiralty breathing down your neck instead of just tossing you on impossible courier routes. And you'd have to be far more regimented. Imagine calling Bobby Lieutenant Commander Singer."
Dean was thoughtful for a minute. "True, true. We'd have Pike calling every other day instead of once a month. And of course, this girl's the fastest ship in the fleet. Wouldn't change that for the world."
The six hour trip to BD-2395 was uneventful. "Captain," Lieutenant Castiel reported, "our estimated time of arrival is ten minutes."
"Incoming transmission from the Enterprise," Sam added.
"On-screen. Captain Kirk, what can we do for you?" Dean took a moment to admire the Enterprise's bridge. He could admit it was shiner, prettier and busier than the Impala's. Honestly it didn't hurt that Kirk's crazy young crew was full of geniuses. Stupidly young and intelligent navigator Chekov, whiz-pilot Sulu, ridiculously attractive and talented Uhura, the grumpy experienced McCoy, possibly insane Scott and the only known half-Vulcan Spock – that was a load of talent Dean appreciated on this mission.
And of course their maverick Earth-saving captain himself.
"Just wondering where you were going to pop up behind the Klingons so we didn't hit you," Kirk said jovially, battle-gleam already in his eyes.
"Don't know yet," Dean rejoined, "but I wouldn't worry about that if I were you. We're good at avoiding fire. Just nail the sons of bitches as hard and fast as you can." He could tell Kirk liked the idea.
"Let's add Plank to this conversation," Kirk reluctantly began just as the Enterprise shook violently under fire. He swore and the transmission cut out as Dean brought the Impala to red alert.
"Ash, what the hell?" Dean demanded of his navigator.
"Sorry Captain, three Klingon birds of prey just dropped their cloaks and opened fire on the Enterprise. Constellation hasn't arrived yet! One bird of prey locking on the Impala!"
"Evasive manoeuvres and Sam get me an update on those planetary defences!"
The Impala ducked gracefully out of the way, firing back at her attacker with angry accuracy. When Dean had the chance, he glanced over at the Enterprise. He was mildly impressed to note that the bigger ship was handling her attackers with punishing aplomb.
It was over in minutes, the two Federation ships loosely circling around each other in a defensive formation. "Sam, anything else on the sensors?"
"Nothing, Captain, but that doesn't mean much with cloaked ships."
"Get me Kirk and someone find the Constellation."
The Enterprise's bridge was unruffled save for the irritated look on Kirk's face. It probably matched the glare on Dean's. "So the Klingons are feeling smarter than usual today," Kirk growled. "Spock says planetary defences on BD-2395 are failing. Ideas?"
Dean swung his head around to Sam. "Constellation is in a warp one defensive circulation around us," the science officer reported.
"Get him in on this conversation," Dean barked and Sam hailed the bigger ship.
"Captain," Kirk drawled. "So kind of you to join us. Anything to contribute?"
Plank flushed slightly and huffed. "You handled that little confrontation," he began and Kirk's blue eyes widened innocently.
"I wasn't referring to the little squabble we just had. Although your reluctance to engage is somewhat telling. Actually, we had just discovered that the planetary defences on BD-2395 are going to fail within the hour and wondered if you had ideas."
"We came and tried, didn't we?" Plank asked. "There's no point in risking the flagship of the Fleet."
Dean locked onto Kirk's reaction. To his satisfaction, it was an indignant one. "I'm glad you're so worried about my shiny new ship, but I was more interested in the lives of the terrified civilians on the ship below."
"Captain, the Enterprise is being hailed by the Amar," Uhura reported and all three Federation captains tensed.
"What the hell is a K't'inga class warship doing this side of the Neutral Zone?" Dean demanded.
"We are massively outgunned if there are five birds of prey and the Amar waiting," the Captain stated unnecessarily.
No shit, Dean choked out mentally.
"Let's see what the Amar has to say," Kirk suggested and waved the transmission through.
"Captain Kirk of the Federation starship Enterprise," the Klingon commander grated out and Dean sat back to listen carefully.
Well, the morning had not been boring, Kirk had to admit. The Impala had eagerly jumped right into battle and pulled her weight. The Enterprise had easily beaten the other two birds of prey.
But the Amar threw quite the kink into his plans.
"I am Gork, commander of the Amar. Retreat now and we will not engage," the Klingon demanded arrogantly.
Kirk pursed his lips, thinking. "Spock," he began softly, "can you up with a successful new plan if I buy you some time?"
Spock considered, nodded and Kirk came to a decision. "Give me ten minutes to confer with my fellow commanders and we'll give you an answer."
"You have five!" the commander snapped out and the transmission ended.
"Captain, I must admit, the statistics are not promising," Spock stated calmly.
Plank was fidgeting in his seat but Captain Winchester seemed intensely focused. Kirk realized he had a niggling question to ask. "Spock, what are they researching on BD-2395? It wasn't in the report."
Winchester broke in. "Already asked that question, Captain. It's classified beyond classified."
"Damn," Kirk swore. "Clearly the Klingons either know or really want to know."
Winchester smirked for a minute. "We could find out," he suggested but Plank's little squawk of indignation had Kirk frowning and Winchester shrugging airily.
"Captain, that's not relevant at the moment," his brother chided gently and Winchester refocused.
"The Impala could make a run for the planet and attempt to reengage the defences. We're fast and skilled enough to make that warp jump. Enterprise and Constellation could engage the Amar until Commander Winchester here has the defences up again, at which point the defences could be focused on the Amar long enough to allow the Constellation in for the transport of civilians."
Kirk liked the sounds of the plan. Simple, direct. Hard to mess up in theory, possibly insane in practice. Clearly he and Winchester subscribed to the same school of thought. "I'll piss off the Klingons. Winchester, get out of the area ASAP."
"Aw shucks, I wanted to be the loudmouth," Captain Winchester complained cheekily. "Understood, Winchester out."
"I would like to state at this juncture that I disagree with this plan of action," Plank interjected. Kirk restrained the urge to roll his eyes.
"Captain, the Amar is not going to take 'oops, wrong sector' for an answer. We're going to have to engage them whether we like it or not. And our time is up. Prepare to fire!" he barked to his crew, noting that the Impala was already at warp. "Spock, keep an eye on the Impala and let me know if she gets in over her head. Fire all phasers!"
The Enterprise lashed out with punitive fury. The Amar was definitely a match for both the Enterprise and the Constellation though, and there were several hair-raising minutes as the Enterprise shook under the barrage and alarms began to whoop.
"Shields at 34%, keptin!" Chekov reported. "Starboard phasers inoperative!" Kirk gritted his teeth and prayed for his ship to hold together.
"Keep firing and reroute power to the shields!"
At least the Constellation was still in the quadrant and still firing. "Sulu, see if you can't circle behind the Amar and hit her from there. Distract her!"
Sulu's fingers danced across the station in front of him and the Enterprise responded in an enormous, elegant dive, arcing down and up in record time. Chekov hissed vindictively as he punched the fire sequence several times and the Amar cloaked in response.
The cloak didn't hold though, flickering several times and the Amar suddenly went to warp. "Sir, do we pursue?" Sulu asked.
"No Sulu. We need to back up the Impala. Spock, status of the Amar?"
"Captain, I believe her systems to be badly damaged, more so than our own. She will not return within twenty four hours. If she did, she would be ineffective in battle."
"Good. Scotty, damage report!"
The blistering Scottish harangue had Kirk wincing. Someone had been taking creative rant lessons from McCoy.
"Captain, coming out of warp that close to the planet could be disastrous," Lieutenant Castiel cautioned.
"Understood," Dean replied. "Take her as close as we can. I don't want to face multiple birds of prey unless we have to and we have to lower shields so we can get down to the planet. We'll need every second."
He was pretty sure if he looked behind him, he'd be getting a pretty epic bitch-face from Sam at the moment. "You didn't tell Captain Kirk you'd be coming down to the planet with me," Sam said in an eerily calm voice.
Dean shrugged carelessly. "Won't make a difference, will it? Cas and Ash know the Impala well enough to beat the shit out of those Klingon bastards. And you're good with the theory, not so much with the practical. Remember the synthesizer?" Sam's bitch-face intensified and Dean grinned. "Of course you remember. How could you forget?"
"Captain, coming out of warp in twenty seconds," Castiel interrupted and the bridge crew refocused.
"Winchesters standing by for transport. Stand-by on the shields. Cas, you have the conn. Keep her in one piece until we get back." Dean rechecked his toolkit and the phaser hanging from his belt.
The Impala snapped out of warp, flying past a waiting Klingon ship and almost into the atmosphere. "Shields down, transporting now!" Bobby's rough drawl accompanied the swirling lights of a transporter as Castiel hammered the closest Klingon with every offensive weapon the Impala had.
The captain and first officer disappeared and Ash immediately reengaged the shields. "Enterprise had better show up soon or this is gonna be a real short show," he grumbled. Castiel didn't have time to disagree.
Six Klingon birds of prey.
The captain would have said it was just about even.
The room was hazy with smoke and bombardment cracks ran along the hallway. "Hello? Captain Winchester of the USS Impala here! Anybody home?" Dean called out as Sam scanned the area.
"Life forms reading on the deepest, most heavily shielded room. Planetary defences are one level up. Dean, we have got to get moving. The Impala won't hold out for long."
That implication didn't deserve a response so Dean simply barrelled out of the room at a dead run. He had studied the base's blueprints and led his little brother unerringly through the sparsely marked corridors.
"We're going to have Klingon company soon if we don't get the randomized phaser array back up," Sam commented breathlessly and Dean scowled in irritation.
"Impala will keep them busy if Kirk doesn't and something tells me Kirk will." They rounded the corner and stared at the huge, singed room housing the damaged phaser array in dismay.
Sam winced and Dean sighed.
"Son of a bitch."
The Impala was a tough little ship with a damned good crew, Kirk gave them that. Still, the Enterprise's help arrived just in the nick of time. The Constellation dropped out of warp as well. Plank hadn't run yet. "Blast them, Sulu. I want only space junk left," Kirk barked out.
They managed to fight the Klingons to a stand off as another bird of prey arrived on the scene. "Where are all the Klingons coming from and what the hell is Starfleet researching on this planet?" Kirk wondered aloud.
"Captain, we are being hailed by a Klingon vessel," Uhura reported and Kirk nodded.
The Klingon commander glared at Kirk. "Desist or die," he wheezed. Corpulent, large and cruel-looking, the Klingon was definitely one of the uglier specimens Kirk had come across.
"Can't do that. You're in Federation space attacking Federation scientists. Turn around and we'll all forget this ever happened."
The Klingon's glare continued. "If you remain in this space, we will resume the attack." Kirk kept a blank face while thinking at the speed of light. Klingons never negotiated when they could beat the shit out of a Federation ship. Today, he had been hailed by not one but two Klingon commanders.
Something was fishy. Whatever was down on that planet had to be potentially physically sensitive and easily destroyed. Something that could only be transported by Federation medical equipment, most likely, given that that was the only area in which Starfleet had a real edge over the Klingons.
And judging from their reluctance to engage, the Klingons probably needed the delicately tuned medical systems of a Starfleet ship to transport the research. Which probably meant that the Impala had the greatest chance of surviving as the smallest threat.
"Not going to happen. I have six hundred and fifteen people on that planet. Stand off, allow me to bring them aboard our ships and I'll consider sharing the information on the planet below with you. Until then, we'll have the unparalleled pleasure of engaging you once more."
Bluffing was a long shot, but it might work. And the longer the Klingon talked, the longer Scotty had to patch the shields back together and the longer Commander Winchester had to put that phaser array back into working order.
The Klingon turned a lovely shade of brownish-purple. "I have no concern for the lives of miserable Federation maggots! Prepare to fire!"
Okay, long shot missed. No biggie.
"Scotty, please tell me the shields are back online," Kirk demanded conversationally.
"I just need a wee bit more, captain," the Scotsman shot back.
"You don't have that bit more; we're going in again now!"
Several searing curses in Gaelic later, Chekov happily reported that shields were operational.
Kirk internally vowed to keep his temperamental engineer in fresh sandwiches and moonshine for the rest of his life. Again.
Unfortunately, the Impala didn't last terribly long despite insanely good piloting and highly accurate shooting. The Enterprise managed to defend her smaller sister until a particularly savage salvo that left the Impala massively venting atmosphere. "Scotty, emergency-beam all crew of the Impala onto the Enterprise, now!" Kirk ordered desperately as aft-shields on his beloved ship failed.
"Done sir!" the harried engineer confirmed just as lights flickered, shields collapsed and both ships were hanging wounded in space.
And the Constellation made a run for it, leaving her comrades in the lurch.
Dean swore viciously as the melted components of the phaser array refused to respond to his somewhat indelicate revival attempts. Sam's brain was whirring away warp nine, trying to come up with a new way of re-circuiting the motherboard within the next twenty minutes.
"Dean, it's just not going to happen," Sam finally concluded. "We have to think of something else."
"All right. New plan. First we find out what they're researching here. It might be helpful. Secondly, we need to take a Klingon ship." Had it been anyone else, Sam would have declared his brother crazy and possibly stunned him with a phaser. As it was, he simply picked up his tricorder, PADD and tools.
"Which way, oh captain my captain?"
"Well, that could have ended worse. Someone get Captain Winchester up here," Kirk said as calmly as he could, waving at the smoke hanging in the air.
The elevator doors swished open to reveal a short, dark-haired man in a gold command shirt. "You are not Captain Winchester, Lieutenant. Where is the captain?" Kirk demanded.
The lieutenant seemed accustomed to explaining for his captain. "Captain Winchester felt his skills were best utilized on the planet below. He left me in charge of the conn. I apologize for allowing the Impala to devolve into such a regrettable condition."
"Hey look Spock, it's your long-lost cousin!" Kirk whispered to his first officer, whose eyebrow ticked up in a slightly irritated manner.
"Sorry." Kirk refocused. "Lieutenant, you have nothing to apologize for. The Impala's conduct has been impeccable." Kirk turned his mind to more constructive pursuits. "Can we get in contact with either Winchester?"
Uhura tried for a minute. "Sir, I can connect with Commander Winchester."
"Captain Kirk?" the Impala's science officer asked.
"Yep. Update, if you'd be so kind, Commander."
"Sir, the phaser array is irreparable. We are attempting to locate the research on the planet in hopes that it will be of assistance. If it is not – I assume this is a secure connection?"
"Captain Winchester intends to take one of the Klingon birds of prey, sir, and use it in a counter attack."
Kirk could feel a madcap grin coming on. A man after his own heart. "Excellent. We're in the same sort of situation up here. I'll surrender the Enterprise and meet you on the leader's ship. That would be the Tamir. Understood?"
There was a long, obviously irritated pause on the other end of the connection.
"I told you I'd like Kirk!" Captain Winchester's voice came faintly over the line and Kirk had to swallow a chuckle.
"I'll let you get to it, Commander. I have a surrendering statement to draft."
"You two are nuts, cuckoo, cracked, off your rockers, batty, insane" Sam complained under his breath as he flipped through medical research. "And there are some extremely unethical people in Starfleet. I get why the Klingons want into this facility so badly."
Dean twirled a screwdriver idly. "Yeah?"
"They're creating a virus that targets only Klingons," Sam explained, feeling growing rage. "In short, it's ethnic cleansing. I think we'd best make a record of this and make sure it gets back to Pike. Then we blow the facility. Possibly see if Dr. Harvelle has anything that could selectively alter the memories of the scientists involved."
"Sammy!" Dean clapped a hand over his chest. "My little brother, planning something so illegal? And you think Ellen will help you?" Sam glared at his brother.
"Dean, we can't even use this virus against the Klingons today. It's practically indestructible. The only way to make sure it doesn't get out is to shoot it into the sun. In short, I don't think even Captain Kirk should know about it until after it's incinerated. At any rate," and Sam pushed himself to his feet, "we have a Klingon ship to take. Do we sneak aboard or just surrender?"
Dean continued twirling his screwdriver. "Surrender. More Klingons to beat up that way. I think we should hide the virus vials in our boot soles and then on our way out, drop them into the Klingon warp cores."
"That would be a poetic touch, if a bit difficult to accomplish. I just hope they put us on the same ship as Kirk."
"You worry too much, Sammy."
"Look, you bastards, you beat the shit out of my ship and the Impala, I'm offering myself and my first officer as hostages, would you at least promise to leave my crew in one piece?" Kirk was trying very hard to be diplomatic. He was failing. Turning the Enterprise over to Klingons even temporarily stung.
But the longer he was trying to kow-tow to Klingon rule, the more time the crew of the Enterprise had to mess with ship systems, hide away in nooks and crannies and generally wreak havoc. So he swallowed his pride and ignored the wide-eyed, trusting look Chekov kept shooting him, shaking off the guilt rapidly creeping up his spine.
This idea was insane. And if his crew (family) ended up paying for it, he would never forgive himself.
As he kept talking himself blue in the face, a transporter beam grabbed Kirk and Spock.
They rematerialized on a dingy, red-lit pad facing a whole row of disruptor rifles. "I feel loved," Kirk aired just before the butt of a rifle slammed into his stomach. He would have sunk to the floor had Spock not caught him by one arm. Content to dangle from his first officer's grip, the mouthy captain stumbled along as directed.
They weren't even taken to meet the Klingon commander, which was probably a good thing. Kirk would have called him several inappropriate names in Klingon and that probably would have gotten him killed.
That didn't seem to stop a black-eyed, battered Captain Winchester, who was liberally abusing the prison guard in fluent Klingon in very creative methods that had Spock raising his eyebrows.
The brig bars slammed shut behind Kirk and Spock, who finally let his captain drop to the ground. "You too, huh?" Kirk wheezed, feeling a lovely bruise blossoming.
Winchester shrugged and his brother huffed an exasperated sigh.
"So, how do we blow this popsicle stand?" Winchester asked after Kirk had gotten his breath back.
"Don't know. Spock?"
There was a double-barrelled irritated stare from both first officers.
"I don't know why I have to get you out of these situations. One of these days, you're going to have to get yourself out," Sam snipped, sliding his belt free of its loops and prising away at the buckle.
"I find Commander Winchester's query to be valid. Captain, please expound?" Spock's voice was calm as ever but the ever-emotive eyebrows told the true story.
"Everyone needs aspirations in life?" Winchester offered and his little brother wrinkled his forehead into a prim, vaguely feminine expression of disapproval. "That's the bitch-face," Winchester whispered confidentially to his fellow captain.
Kirk nodded sagely. "My CMO has something similar. Although he usually swears more and stabs me with a hypo." Winchester flinched in sympathy and stuck out a battered hand.
"Dean Winchester. Pleased to meetcha."
"Jim Kirk. Likewise."
They shook hands companionably and Sam rolled his eyes, putting together a tiny device from the pieces of his belt. "Commander Spock, could you possibly prise up the wall panel behind the security pad?"
Spock stood up and examined the wall. "I believe I can, Commander Winchester."
"Oh god, they're going to be all Commander-ish now," Jim groaned and Dean shrugged.
"What can you do? At least they like each other. Life in this cell would be unbearable if they didn't," Dean mused philosophically until a thought hit him. "So what condition is my Impala in?"
Jim flinched. "Um, she's a tough little ship?"
Dean groaned and let his head thump back against the wall. "I just got her refitted!"
"Maybe we can get the Enterprise and the Impala side-by-side berths in space-dock?" Jim offered feebly.
Dr. Leonard "Bones" McCoy was going to kill his captain and first officer very, very dead. It was his prerogative as CMO, especially since he could bring them back to life and kill them again. Multiple times.
He was hiding in the Jefferies tubes with Scotty, Chekov and the Impala's odd navigator Commander Ash and engineer Lieutenant Commander Singer (call me Bobby). Singer and Scotty had hit it off immediately and the navigator seemed, well, stoned. Chekov was mumbling under his breath in Russian, doing his level best to create unholy, untraceable terror in his beloved ship's computer systems via a tricked out PADD.
And they just let Klingons wander all over the Enterprise. McCoy hadn't realized how attached he was to the actual physical ship until he spotted a Klingon spitting dismissively on the wall near the NCC-1701 designation.
Scotty had had to put the mitt on him, or else McCoy probably would have done something Kirk-ish.
"I ken how ye feel, laddie," the engineer had burred, "but she's made of tougher stuff than that. Takes more than Klingons tae disgrace such a lady."
This left McCoy swearing volubly under his breath as Scotty and Singer planned to retake the ship, communicating with Sulu, the strange pilot named Castiel and Uhura over the transmitters via Morse code clicks.
When he heard the plan to retake the ship, he simply slammed his forehead into the smooth curve of the tube and prayed for mercy.
There was a bright side: if they pulled this off, Kirk would be so proud of them, he'd likely behave for a few days.
"Commander Winchester, this is an admirable device."
"Thanks! You know, you can hide all sorts of components in these uniforms as long as you're creative. Perhaps we can get together to compare notes. Oh and Commander Spock, I was wondering about your opinion regarding the Tevrak IV Nebula anomaly?"
Spock's eyes brightened in interest and Jim groaned.
"I'm sorry my brother's such a geek. I don't know where I went wrong," Dean apologized, watching with dismay as the two commanders chatted amiably over the sparking exposed panel in the wall, as relaxed as if they were having tea together over a fascinating science PADD.
Jim waved him off feebly. "Spock's an enabler, I have to take at least half the blame. Klingon," he hissed and Spock immediately slid the wall panel back into place while the little device disappeared up Sam's sleeve.
Jim and Dean promptly began tag-team insulting the Klingon's mother, grandmother, honour, ship, face, clothes and sexual orientation. The guard stared down his nose at the captains and moved off down the hall out of earshot.
"Okay, go!" Dean whispered and the first officers went back to work. "Hey, how are we going to incapacitate the Klingons on this bird?"
Jim's face hardened. "Well, we could always set and lock out the self-destruct before beaming over to the other ships, leapfrogging about until the jig's up. I figure we can nail three or four of seven. Both our crews are on the Enterprise. They'll take her back. That should account for at least another two. We'll deal with the last couple stragglers as they come."
"I like it," Dean responded. "Hey Sammy, you almost done yet? I'm getting old here!" Sam shot him a quick bitch-face before the panel spit several more sparks, the door slid open and Spock raced down the corridor to quickly pinch and subdue the Klingon guard.
Dean and Jim were hot on his heels, snatching up weapons and clearing the area. "Okay, bridge or engineering, on the double," Dean hissed.
"Engineering will have fewer guards," Spock volunteered and Sam's smirk was positively diabolical.
"I vote for engineering. I have an idea."
Dean paled, making Jim morbidly curious.
No matter what the kid said, Chekov was too young to be a fighter on this ship, McCoy argued in his head. Yet here he was, letting the Russian teenager wander out in the halls without so much as a weapon. The Impala's engineer seemed to be a reliable sort and both he and Scotty were watching out for the teenager but that was small comfort and beside the point.
Sure enough, as soon as Chekov was spotted, the kid ran like a hare, zooming through the halls. Keeping track of him via biochip (yes, McCoy had tagged the entire bridge crew. Did they know about it? Maybe) was simple enough as Chekov led his pursuers on a merry chase right into a very neat, nasty little trap.
Sixteen Klingons, caught in one corridor between electrified bars quickly jury-rigged out of welded table legs and various other bits of Enterprise. Four to go.
Piece of cake, said Chekov. Such plans vere clearly inwented in Russia.
McCoy decided then and there he had to come up with an antidote for Kirk-itis.
Klingon Ship #5
The idea was terrifyingly simple, so very Sam-esque. A simple feedback loop tacked onto the warp cores in an unobtrusive spot, easily activated by communicator. The quieter version of Dean and Jim's original plan meant that they had skipped about from one ship to the next with minimal fuss, appropriating minor transporter pads and silencing as few guards as possible.
They ran into serious trouble on the fifth ship. "Sam, that loop needed to be in place yesterday and if you can't get it in place, blow the other four ships!" Dean hissed as they exchanged fire over an old table.
Sam cursed breathlessly and snapped the wire into place. "Done," he whispered back, "but I don't know how we're going to get off the ship."
"I have taken the liberty of presetting the transporter controls on this ship after remotely splicing them into the transporter of the next ship. It is keyed to our biological signature," Spock replied and Jim grinned. Dean wasn't the only one with a wunderkind first officer. "Shall I activate it now, captain?"
"Yes!" Dean and Jim whispered in tandem.
They materialized on the next transporter pad. Twenty disruptor rifles were waiting for them.
"Sam, now would be a good time to push that button."
Taking the ship back had gone smoothly. Too smoothly. The Enterprise's bridge crew knew that nothing involving their captain ever went that easily. So either the lack of a trouble-magnet captain was good luck or the other shoe was going to drop.
Knowing the Enterprise, the other shoe was going to drop.
Therefore, Scotty and Singer were working overtime in engineering to bring the Enterprise back to something resembling functionality. McCoy was pleased to find the Impala's CMO a terrifyingly efficient officer after his own heart. The rest of the bridge crew waited anxiously, repairing as best they could.
Chekov had optimistically reported that the Klingons were now safely in the brig when five Klingon birds of prey, including the one Captain Kirk and Spock had been on, went into ridiculously fast warp-core overload and exploded.
All activity on the bridge paused.
"Captain," Lieutenant Ash breathed slowly, face turning sheet-white and expressing the sentiment of every other person on the bridge.
Sulu straightened his back and got everyone's attention. "The captains have something planned. They wouldn't go on a suicide run. They'll contact us. Back to work," he ordered, deliberately not looking in Uhura's direction, afraid to look the strong woman in the eye.
The captain (and Spock) would come back.
Klingon ship #6
"You know, I think we might have pissed them off," Dean coughed, wincing at a split lip.
Jim dragged himself up to lean against the brig wall. "Do you always have such a stunning talent for understatement? Commander Winchester – "
"Sam," the younger brother interjected.
Jim nodded. "Sam. Do you have another little break-out doohickey?"
The first officer shook his head and winced, rubbing his neck gingerly. "I have your standard issue set of lock picks, but no. No doohickey. They did a good job of disrupting it."
Spock was the most alert, but also the toughest. Jim and Dean had borne the brunt of Klingon wrath and were nursing very sore ribs, beautifully bruised faces and probably concussions. Sam was less injured by virtue of the fact that he could keep his mouth shut and look surprisingly harmless.
"Now what?" Jim voiced aloud.
Sam poked idly at the wall panel but the Klingon guard threateningly raised his rifle and Sam backed off with his best wide-eyed innocent look. "That's not going to fly again," he muttered. "Spock?"
The half-Vulcan was silent for a moment. "Perhaps if the captains were to irritate the guard, he would lose control and open the door to inflict more bodily harm."
"Oh great," Dean remarked sarcastically but Sam nodded.
"That would work."
"Well, we only want the door open, right? We just have to get back to the Enterprise at this point." He stared at his brother, who groaned and sat up straighter.
"If we die from this idea, I'm so killing you. Kirk, let's piss off some Klingons."
The plan worked admirably after Jim came up with a beautiful insult likening the Klingon's mother to a snot-nosed, lily-livered hydra with the faces of a particularly ugly Klingon swine.
Dean resolved to remember that particular turn of phrase. He then matched Jim by stating that the Klingon's father must have ingested a gallon or so of performance medicine to enable conception, which resulted in a supreme lack of brain cells and really, it wasn't the guard's fault that he was a dishonourable idiot with no way to attract or please women. It was the guard's father's fault.
In the end, Jim was just glad they'd brought Spock and Sam Winchester, who turned out to be more than a match for one enraged Klingon, even when both officers were slightly battered.
"Come on, let's go!" Sam hissed, yanking his brother to his feet.
"Ow," was all Dean had time to say before he was trailing after his brother like a puppy on a leash. "Okay, okay I can run, let go!"
The transporter room seemed miles away but neither Spock nor Sam stopped, bowling over foes in a stampede forward. They reached the transporter room in time but there was yet another problem. "They've seen through us," Dean cursed. The transporter was disabled.
"Shuttle bay," Jim ordered. "Spock, you've studied the bird of prey's schematics. Can you get us to the shuttles via the ventilation shafts?"
Spock nodded and Sam squared himself under the vent, setting his hands out. Dean clambered up, followed by the two Enterprise officers. Spock then helped yank Sam up into the shaft.
"Seriously?" Sam whispered, his shoulders brushing either side of the vent, head smacking off the top.
"That's what you get for being a Sasquatch," Dean grinned and crawled after Spock at record speed.
Again, it was a race for time. If the Klingons figured out they were in the vents, life would become highly unpleasant. Thankfully Spock's impeccable memory led them straight to where they wanted to go.
"Right, so who's the pilot in this group?" Jim asked as they moved, Sam smacking knees and shoulders and elbows off walls and ceiling and floor.
"Dean," Sam panted.
"Aw Sammy, I'm touched."
"Spock, you're going to have to get communications up. Dean, you're probably going to have to put the shuttle down in the Enterprise's bay on manual in order for us to get the shields up in time." Dean snorted in disbelief and Jim didn't have room to shrug. "Better you than me," the Enterprise's captain remarked.
"Right. Let's get out of here."
Spock punched a vent cover open and the Starfleet officers dropped into the bay. Dean and Jim immediately dashed for the guards, laying down accurate cover fire as Spock warmed up a shuttle and Sam wired the inner doors shut and the bay doors open.
"In, in, in!" Jim shouted as the little Klingon fighter whined like a mosquito.
Sam and Dean dashed up the ramp as Jim laid down a final burst of fire and the shuttle made a break for the force field doors.
"Sulu, there is a small wessel breaking free from the Klingons!" Chekov reported excitedly.
"Communication from the captain!" Uhura said calmly but with an ecstatic thread in her voice. "He says they're – WHAT? – sorry, Captain, what? Seriously? He…he says they're going to come into the Enterprise's shuttle bay on manual so throw the shields up as soon as they're in. And open fire on the Klingons immediately."
The whole bridge froze. "Are Captain and Commander Winchester on that shuttle? Is Captain Winchester piloting?" Lieutenant Ash demanded.
Uhura relayed the question and nodded affirmatively.
"Aw hell. I'm real sorry in advance for the mess he's going to make of your hangar, but they'll definitely survive."
That was all the crew of the Enterprise needed to hear.
The bridge sprang to life, orders cracked out, repaired phasers charged and Chekov's fingers flicked the shields to life as soon as the crazy Winchester captain zigzagged his way through disruptor fire into the shuttle bay.
"Open fire," Sulu snarled from the pilot's chair, not wanting to take captaincy and give up guiding the true captain's ship through a tight spot. The Enterprise began dishing out the return damage, complaining impulse engines moving her about with an effort.
The doors to the elevator swished open and relief flooded through the bridge.
The captains were back.
Kirk stood over Sulu's shoulder, leaning a hand on the chair back. "Sulu, continue firing. Spock, get me a read on the scientists on the planet. Winchester, you said something about a photon torpedo, get to it. Uhura, warn the Klingons that if they do not surrender, we will take extreme action."
The Klingons did not surrender.
So the Enterprise hammered them until the ships disintegrated.
The limping Enterprise sat satisfied in space as the hive of humans within tried to make her presentable again. The crew of the Impala had taken a shuttle and suits over to seal up their battered ship and soon life support was re-engaged.
And for some reason, Captain Dean Winchester had insisted on firing a slightly modified photon torpedo into the nearest sun. A very curious Captain James Kirk had complied and then agreed fully with the actions taken once Dean told him the whole story.
They beamed the scientists straight into the brig and sent all research materials directly to Admiral Pike over a secure transmission. An inquiry was immediately launched.
Captains Kirk and Winchester wrote up a scathing report of the Constellation's comportment but scrapped it for something a little kinder when they found out that the Constellation had run into her own Klingon troubles on the way home. The runaway ship had ended up losing her entire command personnel and half her crew, inadvertently saving the Enterprise and Impala from a rather nasty ambush surprise.
And then the Enterprise and the Impala hobbled home to the nearest space station, the Impala tagging along in the bigger ship's warp bubble like a little kite with holes in her wings.
That was when Captains Kirk and Winchester found themselves attempting to placate their very irritated CMOs, plying them with fine alcohol, charming smiles and profuse apologies.
Commanders Spock and Winchester were of no assistance whatsoever, lost to the world with Ensign Chekov and Lieutenant Ash in the joys of some strange higher science realm.
The two crews enjoyed themselves immensely.
The Admiralty had no idea what sort of strangely effective team they'd created.
Pike sat back to point, laugh and be grateful – two ships with morally uncompromising (if a little crazy) crews connecting. They'd watch out for each other when they could.
More lives would be saved because of it, both on ship and off.
Additionally, the captains Kirk and Winchester would totally screw with the Admiralty's sense of propriety and protocol.
Life would be good.