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Destiny Undecided

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Summary: She was not supposed to be here. He was not supposed to have a sister. Fate, it seemed, didn’t really care. At least Spock Prime would find the whole thing fascinating.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Star Trek > Star Trek 2009 > Buffy-CenteredwinterdFR1538,36446410,07422 Jan 1116 Mar 11No

Prologue: The Birthday Child

Title: Destiny Undecided
Rated: PG-13
Summary: She was not supposed to be here. He was not supposed to have a sister. Fate, it seemed, didn’t really care. At least Spock Prime would find the whole thing fascinating.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Joss owns all things Buffy. Others own all things Star Trek.
AN: I’ve kind of been on a Star Trek kick for a while. I’m no sure why. I came back across a pic that BuffyCharmed did where Buffy and Jim were twins, and the plot bunny started to eat away at my brain. So, here we go again.



Prologue: The Birthday Child

On the day that Buffy Summers died, the world had nearly died with her. A selfish, mad goddess had used a power that was never meant to be used and nearly killed multiple universes in the process. She had stabbed straight through reality itself to get what she wanted, and the wound laid open and bare in the middle of open air just below an occupied platform.

Tears and blood had dripped from a young girl of only fourteen, and the world shook and trashed in death throws as universes bleed. In exchange for her life, millions would suffer and die. Ultimately it would be for nothing because she too would suffer the same fate, as her sister knew. Someone had to die for this, but it wouldn’t this girl.

Dawn was just breaking when Buffy took her sister’s shoulders into her hands. She watched as her deliberate words burned into Dawn’s mind as Buffy gave her a purpose -- a reason -- to not give up as she felt she was about to do. This was going to be her last mission, and Buffy had felt strangely relieved by that; but she hadn’t wanted Dawn to give up so soon in life. She hadn’t even begun; she needed a reason to really start.

With a kiss on the cheek, the last human contact she thought she would ever have, Buffy turned and ran.

She was ready to jump. She was ready to find out what was going to be on the other side. She was ready to be done.

She fell through the dark morning air.

She died in an angry ball of light.

And somewhere on the other side, she was born.



On the day James T. Kirk was born, there was a lightening storm in space. Nothing like it had ever been seen before. The crew on the bridge of the U.S.S. Kelvin had sat at their post and all but stared as the dark mass appeared before their ship in mass of swirling blackness and flashes of brilliant light. It was like a storm one read about in old Earth literature: beautifully wondrous, frighteningly powerful, and seemingly symbolic in a way that wasn’t quiet obvious to anyone just yet. Then a ship torn out from its center. It was almost as if the universe itself was giving birth to a horrid creature: a kraken with sharp tentacles that was now reaching forth for their ship.

Years later when a young officer named Pike would ask the survivors questions about that day, he would be reminded the old legends of sea that his grandfather had used to like to tell a boy home sick from school and stuck under his care. Of how the monsters would stay hidden in the dark murkiness for an unexpected ship to pass over and then leave nothing but a few lucky survivors a drift in life-rafts to tell the tale. Pike had always felt slightly uncomfortable over deep water after that: the crew of the U.S.S. Kelvin, he discovered, had felt much the same way about uncharted space.

The enemy ship battered the Kelvin as if it were a rowboat fighting a hurricane. The cease fire had only lasted long enough for the captain to make it to other ship and meet its leader. Then he died quickly, and his ship was going to follow soon.

George Kirk, the acting Captain, had saved as many lives as he could, including that of his wife. On the bridge of the doomed ship, he had listened with half an ear to the destruction sequence and concentrated on his wife voice as she gave birth to his second son. They named him Jim after her father: Tiberius after his. Around the corners of the enemy ship, he could see some flares of lightening and feel the jars as parts of the ship were scraped off by the tentacles. Then, in a brilliant flash of fire and sound, he died.

A moment later, an arching blaze reached out from around the massive Titan that had destroyed Winona Kirk’s life and engulfed the small shuttled in a blinding white light. The shuttle pitched and dropped and trembled as if the engines had just failed in atmosphere, and they were now plummeting towards the surface of a planet. Winona had screamed. Jim had cried. The doctor and nurses had stumbled as spots formed before their eyes.

Then, from inside her, Winona felt more pain and the urge to push. It was expected. This was not her first child, and she understood very well what afterbirth was. However, she had known this was different. This was something else. There was something else in there.

Two minutes later, a second piercing scream of an infant filled the cabin, much to the amazement of the mother and doctor. In the hands of the doctor, squirmed an unhappy baby girl. A second child. A twin for Jim. She was an unexpected gift.

Her birth baffled the doctor. She would have sworn that everything indicated that Winona Kirk had only been expecting one baby, but the child would not have been the first twin to be missed by even the most modern of medical equipment. It was rare -- exceedingly so by that time -- but still could happen.

The twin was settled into one of her mother’s arms, while her brother was placed back in the other. The child had strangely alert eyes (on some level, it slightly unnerved Winona); but then she yawned, and they closed, and she became like her brother. Another baby, newly born and fatherless.

“What shall this one be called,” the doctor gently prodded.

Winona frowned and thought of a hundred different names George had joked about naming the baby if it had turned out to be a girl. Andromeda, Agrippina, Nefertiti: each had been more dreadful than the next in Winona’s opinion. When she couldn’t think of a name that seemed right, she decided to do what they had done for her new son.

“Buffy.” For George’s mother.



TBC
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