Chapter 1: Jinx
Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own either Buffy or the Trek. If I did, I would most assuredly have a Pine-Quinto-Urban-Yelchin-Pegg-Cho-Brendon-Boreanaz harem.
Yay for a fan girl imagination!
AN1: Okay, even though I'm really tired right now, the reviews I've gotten are making me eager to write more. So here it is.
Trek Among the Stars by AlexTheGray
Chapter 1: Jinx
Summer of 2005. Africa.
The sun had set hours ago, leaving nothing to illuminate the barren road but the Jeeps headlights.
Xander's shoulders had developed a definite and persistent ache from driving so long, and his eye had gained an irritating grittiness that made it difficult to keep it open.
He'd been driving almost non-stop for the past two days, stopping only twice for a few hours rest.
The call from Giles had been urgent. A cult was attempting to create a hellmouth just outside of the capital of Morocco. What the hell was a cult doing, trying to actually make a hellmouth when one already existed in the world. Were they that good at protecting it that a new one had to be minted?
Buffy had, of course, hopped a boat over from Italy in an attempt to save the day. Her being The Slayer, and all, it was expected of her. Only now it seemed that she was in way over her head, with little backup and an ever-growing horde of enemies. So a distress call had been put out to the Head Watcher for aide, in any form.
And lucky Xander, he was the first one Giles thought of in conjunction with the word 'aide.' The only problem? Xander was somewhere in the area of Tanzania, on the other side of the continent. Sure, he could have flown, but the very idea of trying to explain to airport official just what an American twenty-something, one-eyed, former construction worker was doing traveling cross-continent with two underage African girls was daunting indeed.
So here he was, driving in the dark of night, barely halfway to his destination, and with the fate of the world hanging in the balance.
There were some days that he really hated his life.
Stardate 2258.82. On the way to Tatooine.
The officers aboard the bridge went about their duties, monitoring activities and conditions both in and out of the Enterprise. All communications were surveyed, various scan and sensor readings were looked over and their meanings calculated. All personnel went about their duties with a quiet seriousness, intent on fulfilling tasks.
All, that is, but a certain captain.
Jim sat in his captain's chair, head tilted against the back, feet tucked up to his chest until he had to bring them down, pushing against the floor to continue his lazy spin.
He was so bored! They had been in warp for the past two hours, and in the last hour and forty-five minutes he'd done nothing but fidget, spin around and around in the middle of the bridge, and loudly eat an apple he'd tucked away in the corner of his chair. But annoying his subordinates with his eating habits could only go so far (i.e. to the bitter core), and he'd had to settle for chair play.
"Dammit Jim, settle down!" Even Bones was so bored he'd come up out of the medical bay in search of some action. "You're acting like a kid who forgot to take his Ritalin." Apparently when he couldn't find any action, he decided that picking on his captain was enough of a substitute.
Jim planted his feet firmly on the ground, facing the front of the bridge, as he turned a disgruntled glare on his Chief Medical Officer. He, of course, hadn't stopped because of his friend's not so subtle rebuke, but so that he could more effectively glower. Yep, that was his story, and he was sticking to it.
God, he was bored. Why couldn't something just happen already, and make his day a little interesting?
"Captain!" Lt. Uhura had her hand to her ear piece, a look of concentration on her face.
"Starfleet is sending us additional information on the mercenary vessel. It's..." The lieutenant seemed stunned, stuck in a moment of shocked silence.
"What is it, Uhura?" Just great. Now he had to whip out his serious captain's face; he just knew it was going to give him wrinkles.
"Sir, the thieves have taken hostages." Everyone in the room tensed in anticipatory dread. "Five girls, between twelve and eighteen, and one teacher."
"Why the hell weren't we notified about this before?" And there came the Angry Captain's Voice(TM).
"The organization that reported the theft didn't release the information until just now." Uhura seemed to lean into her ear piece, eyes widening in what appeared to be shock. "Apparently the president of the association didn't want to give the Fleet full disclosure because he was hoping to keep in relatively in house."
"In house? In..." Jim could feel his face redden in anger, and out of the corner of his eye he could see the grim set of McCoy's face. "Let me get this straight; they came to Starfleet to get their 'precious artifacts' back, but didn't tell us that the enemy had taken six people?"
Uhura shifted in her seat, clearly uncomfortable in the face of Jim's obvious anger. He deflated slightly, calming himself down a bit when he realized the trepidation of one of his officers.
Jim took a breath, letting the action calm him further. He needed to remain calm for this mission, for all missions. For the sake of his crew, if not him.
He couldn't let it all go, however. "Just how stupid do they think we are?"
No one deemed it safe enough just yet to answer.
"Captain, we're coming up on our destination," Sulu said, eyes on the monitors before him. "Arrival in Tatooine air space in five, four, three..."
Why couldn't Jim have just been happy with a boring mission?
AN2: Ugh. This chapter has not been nice. I just want to get to the action-y (okay, less action, more after-action reaction), but I have to set things up a bit more. So you get semi-filler chapter. T_T.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this, and all that (hopefully) comes after.
Thanks for reading; please review.