Title: Troika [1/?]
Summary: A soldier, a killer and an alien walk into the bar and save the world. Or alternatively, how Reaper, Sylar and Neytiri end up in the Star Trek universe.
Pairing: None applicable as of this moment. Maybe Spock/McCoy/Uhura or Sylar/Reaper/Neytiri later?
Notes: multifandom crossover with Avatar (2009), Doom (2005) and the TV series Heroes. And yes, I keep starting these WIPs but I need to get rid of them somehow. But I swear this is a short one. And thus requires less strategizing and allocation of brain power. Which I will need for other things like brushing my hair or hey, let's not use the pen that keeps exploding in your hands. I'm also debating whether or not to move the contents of my lj here. I'll probably decide against though since I'm notoriously lazy.
Disclaimer: I own none of these fandoms
Warnings: possible polyamory, requires healthy suspension of belief, un-betaed
Word count: 1800+ (for this chapter)
Silk-tasseled corn swayed to the obvious sound of displacement as three figures, one alien and two humans appeared in the field. Startled badly, John Grimm slammed his ka-bar into the nearest person's throat and thrust down as easy as stirring a bowl of replicated gruel. He felt the warm sunburst of blood on his hand as he cleaved through flesh and cartilage, a sharp glance at the other man's dark eyes confirming what he already knew.
Gabriel Gray, once known as Sylar, gurgled as John fell into a practiced crouch, turning on the tall blue alien who lashed her tail and hissed at him in warning. He snorted, fist still dripping. "You've got to be shitting me—a Na'vi?"
Neytiri pressed her ears back, bioluminescent markings drawing broad stripes across her cheeks. "How did you..."
John choked when Gabriel returned the favor. His spine snapped audibly, the C7 and the Th1 vertebrae grinding together before they ruptured, shards of calcium-rich ossicles shredding the delicate nerves and membrane. He dropped face down like a puppet cut from its strings, the boots of the man whom he'd killed just moments before kicking him in the side before coming to a rest under his nose. "Now" The pair of boots chided mildly, "Why don't you tell me how you really feel?"
The Na'vi shouted something incomprehensible at them both and Gabriel arched an eyebrow in interest, wiping the blood from his mouth as though one might dust, courtesy of an ability he stole long ago. He had never seen a Na'vi before, only read about them on the anemic reports of the galactic clusterfuck that had been the mission to Pandora.
Up close, the Na'vi was magnificent like something drawn out of post-symbolism art. She bore his scrutiny with a guarded expression, beautiful in all ways dangerous things were. Gabriel licked his lips unconsciously, curiosity rearing its perverse head like a hungered beast. Fortunately for Neytiri, John chose that moment to let out a wet cough, revealing that he was about as dead as Gabriel himself was, hair mussed and sticky but otherwise unharmed. "I've heard of this joke before" He croaked, wiping his knife clean on one knee. "—a soldier, a killer, and an alien walk into a bar..."
"From where I'm standing, pot kettle."
"Yeah well I'm not the scourge of the twenty-first century."
This surprised him. He thought his story lost to the annals of time. Between the Great War and the hundreds of individuals proud to call themselves Augments, rising up to claim what they believed to be their birthright.
Gabriel had made himself scarce during that time. Him and Peter and whoever they managed to find, usually Claire though she couldn't stand him and always took off after a week or two causing her uncle no small amount of worry. He hadn't seen her since Peter died.
"You know me."
John closed his eyes, still on the ground. Perhaps his abilities weren't as instantaneous.
"I'm really hoping that this is a bad acid trip but since I haven't had those since 2039."
Another Augment. Here.
Gabriel stared speculatively. Having his spine broken didn't seem to have done the other man much harm other than the initial theatrics and the general reluctance to move. He didn't recognize him though that wasn't terribly surprising. But the casual remark about his youthful delinquency placed him well after the Eugenics War and Sylar. He was a puzzle. It had been a long time since he'd come across one he couldn't solve.
Satisfied that the two sky-people wouldn't kill each other, Neytiri sniffed the air. "What is this place?"
They looked around, seeing nothing but blue sky and green stalks in all directions. The Na'vi had the distinct advantage of being taller than the towering corn but even she couldn't see anything as she made a slow circle, feeling oddly vulnerable amidst the strange smelling grass which failed to glow right.
Gabriel lifted himself several feet off the ground to the grumbles of—"oh that's just not fair."
"Better question is" He interjected "how did we get here?"
"Very simple. I brought you here."
There was someone else with them in the field, space, room, or whatever now, stamping its feet in impatience. It was a child of an indeterminate gender, if its race had genders, humanoid with raised scales freckling its face and throat like a large caramel apple dipped in peanuts. The being only came up to Gabriel's knees and was comically dwarfed by the Na'vi who squinted at it in disbelief. But somehow it exuded its presence through the air in a noxious ooze, making it seem bigger than it actually was.
"What the hell are you?" John asked with all diplomacy, sparking their first contact.
It raised a finger. "That is none of your business."
Despite being flat on his back, John took out a handgun.
With a wave of its hand, the gun disintegrated in his hands. John was left staring as black sand poured through his fingers in a gentle stream. He sat up, hands reaching towards the top of his spine when the bones popped back into place.
"Times is of the essence." It said genially. "And I require your most excellent services."
Wispy fingers spread like smoke trails, changing the backdrop of into the image of space, complete with newborn stars and spiral-armed galaxies. It was breathtaking. Even John who had run with Corvallen pirates across Romulan space was impressed.
"What is that?" Neytiri turned her head, blinking her luminous yellow eyes as she pointed to the distance, a dissonance in the black fabric of space, a singularity, a shadow with no stars. The being zoomed them close until they were almost on top of it, at the edge of the universe where the space curved and towered up like a great mushroom dome.
"This is the problem you must solve."
John glared. "How? We don't even know what's wrong with it."
The being rocked on the balls of its feet, tickled. "But you knew right away that something was wrong. Your universe is on the verge of collapse. You must stop it."
"Why us?" The Na'vi asked, giving voice to what they had all been thinking. "There must be others more appropriate for this task."
"I don't know." Gabriel shrugs, grinding down on the crack in the universe as though he could somehow rub it out of existence. Gears turned in his head as though jolted by a spare battery. The familiar ticking was back as he gathered information, looking at the problem from all angles. "I've gotten fond of the world these past few centuries."
"Mankind is the key."
"That is awfully presumptuous of you considering all the fuckups we've managed in our short history."
The being continued undeterred, "Jim Kirk must live."
"Jim Kirk" Gabriel ignored the other man's bristling and weighed the name carefully in his mind. "George Kirk's son?"
"The man's a hero." John said flatly. "If anything, he'd need protection from us—no offence ma'am."
The Na'vi's ears flickered at the word. "I am Neytiri."
It earned her a wan smile. "Neytiri then."
"Why do you care if he lives or dies?" Gabriel asked curiously.
"Oh we don't. If we could leave it alone we would. But the Continuum knows what's going to happen and we like the current status quo."
"And what is that?"
"In every universe, Jim Kirk had people he could rely on, friends closer than soul mates." Its leer seemed entirely inappropriate on its childlike face. "But this world is—oh what's that term? Few nails short of a hardware store?"
"Screws" John growled and it nodded gleefully. Neytiri looked lost.
"It is delightful how many ways you've invented to disparage your fellow man. But I digress. This world is an anomaly." Gee thanks John muttered, which was once again ignored. "It is different and we cannot change it." The being frowned, unhappy at admitting its shortcomings. "The Naradachanged everything."
"The Narada—that's Romulan. The fucking Romulans caused the Kelvin Incident?"
"Yes and no." Before John could interrupt, it held up another finger. The man fell silent; his throat bobbing as he realized that he couldn't speak. "A hundred and fifty-four years in the future, Romulans will rediscover their hatred of your world. And they will not be the worst to come."
The being threw up a dying world and a ship full of survivors falling into space.
"In 2387, the Narada will be sent back in time, causing what is known to you as the Kelvin Incident. It caused a ripple effect throughout the known universes. Some negligible, others required aggressive treatment. In yours however, several individual failed to exist before they were born."
Gabriel cleared his throat. "So your solution is to put the fate of this universe in the hands of two killers and an alien?"
"Oh no" It replied, its voice sly. "I am putting the fate of the universe in the hands of the only one who can hear it and the two men who cannot die."
At this, Neytiri looked sharply at her two companions, one who maintained feigned ignorance and the other who gave her a resigned nod.
"You will be rewarded of course." The being said loftily. "Incentives was it? I'm told you respond well to incentives."
The three bristled at the slight. It addressed Neytiri with an imperious smile. "For you my dear, protection for your planet perhaps? I can make sure that Pandora stays out of sight, out of mind." In an instant, it appeared in front of Gabriel, a cheeky grin tugging at its lips as it touched his hand. "And for you Gabriel..."
"Are you? When Peter Petrelli died, you burned people for less."
"Don't bother." John drawled, his voice graveled as though words were being scraped out by the skin of his teeth. "You can't do it. You can't meddle can you? Or else you wouldn't have needed us in the first place." He rubbed his throat, grimacing when he tasted blood on the back of his tongue. The being looked almost disappointed at his swift recovery.
"No, but I can tell you where your sister's body is, I can tell you what you are and what you aren't."
"Surely you've noticed." It tilted its head in a picture of innocence, cheeks dimpled and long-fingered hands tucked carefully behind its back. But its eyes were swirling a worldly black, eliciting a gasp from Neytiri when they flashed like lightning in the vacuum of space. John reached for his pockets only to find them empty. A frustrated snarl next to him told him that whatever powers Gabriel might have had were gone. "Many were infected with the agent known as C24. Only you lived."
John was cold.
"I was lucky." He said harshly, backing away, the two others at his back.
The being grinned artlessly. "There is no such thing."
Air was being sucked out of their lungs as color bleached from their surroundings, inverse to the eddy of black in its stolen eyes. At last, when the last vestiges of consciousness faded from them Neytiri gasped,
"Who are you?"
The thing bowed, terrible and obscene.
"I am Q."