RT: A Rogue Zeppo
Disclaimer: As I've wrote before, any concept or character I use doesn't belong to me but to there respective owners.
AN: Hello everyone, I realise that it's been a while and I apologise but real life etc, and I've been having difficulty with my muse throwing dozens of ideas at me but no idea as how to implement any of those ideas into story format. Thank you, all of those who were kind enough to read this story and review, please keep them coming. But special thanks to Drakan for recommending this story.
AN 2: Also, Dawn's age has been moved up by a few years.
==Thought for the day==
"Ambition knows no bounds"
"Xander?" Dawn Whimpered.
"Yes, Dawn?" Xander's murmured question sounded faint and hollow, even to him.
"How much trouble do you think were gonna be in when mom finds out what's happened?"
Xander cringed as the full ramifications of what he would be facing became clear. All this time he was afraid of how Buffy would react to Dawn's new... Outlook on life, and how long he would be spending in the hospital with a broken... everything, if Buffy was really pissed off. But now he would have to deal with something worse than an enraged Vampire Slayer, something infinitely worse.
A pissed off mother protecting her child.
A shudder ran down his spine as a memory of a ill spent youth, of a planetary Governess attempts to castrate him with a red hot poker after a rather enjoyable night with her daughter sprung to the forefront...
By the Golden Throne, just toss me into Commorragh...
Xander's head snapped up. "What?" He asked bemusedly.
Dawn looked at him in consternation. The teenager may of gained a great deal in knowledge and wisdom but she was still in heart and body a fifteen year old girl with a crush on her cap- sisters friend. The fact that there was now a lifetime's worth of residual emotions from a requited, if not outright-forbidden-but-definitely-frowned-upon-and-maybe-burned-at-the-stake-by-the-more-zealous-imperial-agents-romance, between her and Xander's Halloween guests only stoked the fires of her crush as it were...
Except the fires were more like introducing an Exterminatus class plasma warhead to a gas giant.
Sarvus and Derosa at first, had a rather tense working relationship for the first four months they knew each other. Derosa, believing that Tanak only wore a veneer of civility and was actually a vainglorious miser. Sarvus view on the-technically-one time member of the Imperial Navy was that she was a hotheaded, tomboy shrew who lacked the usual etiquette of subservience her kind possessed.
Well, being stranded on a Space Hulk and enduring a trek through fourteen miles of feral Ork infested hallways and service tunnels of a dozen different vessels smashed together to form a maze that Derosa was certain was crafted by a Greater Daemon of Tzeentch. A baptism of fire certainly helped to see each other in a different light. And as the years slowly passed and they became staunch friends and comrades in arms, somewhere down the line it had slowly became more...
"You okay? You kinda spaced out for a while..." She bit her lip, and gently readjusted the new eyepatch that was strapped under her hood, not that she didn't understand his shell shock with the new reality that they were faced with. Here they were, standing upon the bridge of Sarvus Trask's Ambition-Class Cruiser, (The Herald of Fortune) hiding behind the dark side of the moon. Hell, she'd be joining him if it wasn't for Derosa's hard learned meditation techniques and a quite a few things she learned about staying cool under fire when they embarked on "Great adventures ending in wealth and glory." as Sarvus liked to call them, Derosa more accurately labeled them as "Bowl voiding trips of terror into the depths of a different flavour of hell each week to look for trinkets and earning bragging right for ten minutes around his backstabbing friends, if they get back to port." When she was feeling less than generous, of course...
"M'fine, Dawn it's just... Warren!"
Dawn blinked before her eyes went wide and she turned towards the unusually quiet mound of red robes, standing silent and back hunched. He could of easily of been missed if it wasn't for the crimson robes of his office that enshrouded his frame.
They quickly made there way towards there seemly comatose acquaintance/life long friend to see what was wrong with him.
Dawn made it to him first and grabbed the collar of his robes and started shaking him. "Warren!? Warren!? Come on, wake up, or power on, or boot up. Just do whatever it is you Cog-boys do and start moving!" Dawn pleaded as memories of Warren's costume drifted through her mind, memories of annoying the living hell out of Manuel Van Bessel, Magos Errant of the Omnissiah and the most mind numbing, yet strangely loveable bore in all of Segmentum Obscurus.
By now Xander had reached them and grabbed Dawn's arms and pulled her back. "Dawn! Stop! You need to calm down and as much as I understand wanting to hit a malfunctioning machine till it starts to work this isn't helping!" He held tight till she stopped resisting and he was certain she wasn't going to back to giving her own unique version of the "Rite of Ignition" and on an actual Tech-Priest!
After being let go Dawn took a deep breath and then turned around to face Xander when she saw it.
"What's that?" The abrupt question from Dawn made Xander baulk, and a shiver of dread ran down his spine as he instantly recognised the tone as of one of hollowed calm, a flat question that was usually followed by all hell (figuratively, most of the time) breaking loose. Of someone who already knew what it was but it was either number one, grim acceptance of something that was going to go very wrong. Number two, unimaginably horrible to wrap you're head around. He craned his neck around to see what made Dawn use that oh-so-loathed tone.
Oh goody, option number two.
Blinking innocuously was a green little light bulb built on top of the bridges communications console.
The pair exchanged uneasy looks. There was only one possible place that short range message could of come from, and there options were limited to the extreme. They couldn't fly away for two immediate reasons, one was that there was no way two, three people if Warren was still alive and woke up soon, could fly this ship. The second would be there parents would &kill them&.
Looking over to Dawn, Xander quickly made a decision. "Dawn, why don't you see who's phoning us and I'll try to figure out if Warren has gone and joined the great Omnissiah."
"Okay Xander." She agreed to his plan, in absence of any other real options or better plans and made it to the console and sat down at the built in chair and answered the message.
"Unknown vessel in Earth Orbit. This is United States Air Force Cheyenne command. Please identify you're self and your intentions or we will be forced to assume you are hostile and respond thusly. I repeat..."
Dawn stared at the communications console in mute horror.
Warren was still dead to the world... Whether that was figuratively or literarily was still up in the air.
Xander was staring off into space as gears slowly turned in his head. Now while Xander's physical form may of remained unaltered unlike his comrades, his mindset has became much more... Enterprising and mercenary. Xander wasn't what you would call popular, being the son of the town drunks and having to buy all you're clothes from the Salvation Army didn't help him fit in. It's a sad truth that the poor kids were easy targets for a cheap laugh from the rich and popular kids. But he always ignored it because from where he stood, who needed riches and fame when you had good friends at you're side.
But now, thanks to Trask's memories he can now see that he can have all three.
So the USAF knew they were here, and by extension the U.S. This wasn't necessarily a bad thing, if he plays his cards right then he can secure himself and Dawn (and Warren if he wakes up this millennia) a life of untold fortune and fame. Perhaps even a chance to explore the galaxy for them with a letter of marque if they find a hostile species out there...
If was awfully ambitious, but...
...Ambitious knows no bounds.