“What is it now?” Sam moaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. They’d had a scare the previous day and he had found his shift on the bridge extended to almost a full twenty four hours
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"Sir?" It was the lieutenant calling to him from the communications console. Kirk looked up from what he was doing, fingers still hovering over the rooming assignments that were getting progressively harder to deal with as they lost more and more rooms to new comers. They were almost near capacity.
"Yes?" Kirk shifted.
"Sir, I think you need to come listen to this message I'm picking up."
Kirk's brows rose and he stood up, coming over to the communications console. He leaned over as the lieutenant punched something up. The message played, and Kirk honestly thought he felt his heart stop. No... no fucking way. It can't be...
He recognized that voice. He sure as hell recognized the name Kirk. "How long ago was this transmission made?"
The lieutenant frowned, typing rapidly, "...just over four hours ago, sir. It's coming from near another planet, and came in with a large group of other communications."
"Navigation." Kirk looked quickly over his shoulder. "Locate the U.S.S. Osprey. Classification and time to interception if we
( ... )
Sam paced the bridge. The boarding party had left twenty minutes before and all sense said they should have been back by now. Communications systems between the Kalòn Kakòn and the boarding party had gone down as usual (the one system it seemed they could never fix). He could tell that it was setting his staff on edge, but he suspected that sitting would do nothing but increase his nervous energy.
The crew of the Osprey hadn't put up much of a fight. They'd been fairly cooperative and had filed into an empty cargo bay with a minimum of complaints. With them locked away, for their own good of course, it was hard to imagine what could be keeping the boarding party. Something must have gone wrong once the comms cut out, Sam thought to himself
( ... )
"I may be twenty-nine, but I've committed more than my share of crimes in life." Sam looked off into the distance. He had always expected to pay for his crimes. Maybe not at such an early age, but definitely some day. That time had come and he was not going to stand in the way of justice.
"How long were you captain of that ship?" Kirk asked, sitting back down with a huff. He was already trying to think of something, anything... something that would save his brother from the colony.
"Sorry." Kirk said, shaking his head slightly. "I didn't mean it that way." He leaned back in his chair, staring across the room as he thought. "Sam, you've gotta know I don't want you wasting your life in some fucking penal colony."
Pike arrived at the door to the quarters where this pirate Captain was being held just as Kirk stepped out into the hall. He raised an eyebrow. Jim seemed...troubled.
Kirk looked to Pike, letting out a breath. "Nothing about this leaves this room." He said firmly, his eyes dark for a moment before he gestured for the guards to step aside.
He walked inside and waited. He wanted to see if Pike recognized Sam before he said a word.
Pike entered the room slowly, and paused just inside the door. He looked appraisingly at the man, who just stared back at him - tall, with dark blond hair and bright blue eyes; not really his mental picture of a pirate.
His eyes narrowed as he studied the man's face, and realized something. He wasn't unfamiliar. In fact, he looked very much like --
Looking over at Jim, then back at the pirate captain, the pieces seemed to fall into place all at once, and Pike's mouth dropped open. Holy shit, said his brain, but what made its way out of his mouth was "Little George?"
He had the same great bearing as in all of the pictures that had accompanied news stories telling of his exploits. Sam couldn't remember a younger Pike. He could remember warm hands and a calm voice which was not his father's, but the actual figure of Christopher Pike never connected with that distant memory from childhood. Now he stood before Sam and everything connected.
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"Yes?" Kirk shifted.
"Sir, I think you need to come listen to this message I'm picking up."
Kirk's brows rose and he stood up, coming over to the communications console. He leaned over as the lieutenant punched something up. The message played, and Kirk honestly thought he felt his heart stop. No... no fucking way. It can't be...
He recognized that voice. He sure as hell recognized the name Kirk. "How long ago was this transmission made?"
The lieutenant frowned, typing rapidly, "...just over four hours ago, sir. It's coming from near another planet, and came in with a large group of other communications."
"Navigation." Kirk looked quickly over his shoulder. "Locate the U.S.S. Osprey. Classification and time to interception if we ( ... )
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The crew of the Osprey hadn't put up much of a fight. They'd been fairly cooperative and had filed into an empty cargo bay with a minimum of complaints. With them locked away, for their own good of course, it was hard to imagine what could be keeping the boarding party. Something must have gone wrong once the comms cut out, Sam thought to himself ( ... )
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"Fuck." Kirk snapped, and his fingers flew, "Go to red alert! Engineering, prepare for a fight down there! Helms, prepare for evasive maneuvers."
"Give me a report on the ship."
"Small ship, sir. They're heavily damaged with minimal shielding."
Kirk licked his lips and nodded, "Hail them."
"Yessir." The lieutenant said quickly.
"This is James T. Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise hailing the Kalòn Kakòn. Respond or we will be forced to take action."
Please don't let me be right.
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"Boarding party is almost on board,sir!"
"Starfleet." One crewman shouted.
The crew fell silent. Several looked to Sam.
He couldn't stand to meet their eyes.
"The Enterprise," another crewman added quietly.
"Get ready to undock and drop immediately into warp three." Sam snapped.
"Where to, sir?" The navigator asked.
"Straight at them," Sam said.
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"What's going on, Captain?"
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He walked inside and waited. He wanted to see if Pike recognized Sam before he said a word.
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His eyes narrowed as he studied the man's face, and realized something. He wasn't unfamiliar. In fact, he looked very much like --
Looking over at Jim, then back at the pirate captain, the pieces seemed to fall into place all at once, and Pike's mouth dropped open. Holy shit, said his brain, but what made its way out of his mouth was "Little George?"
Reply
He had the same great bearing as in all of the pictures that had accompanied news stories telling of his exploits. Sam couldn't remember a younger Pike. He could remember warm hands and a calm voice which was not his father's, but the actual figure of Christopher Pike never connected with that distant memory from childhood. Now he stood before Sam and everything connected.
Reply
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