Controbution for reel_startrek, Part 1
Title: Highway to the Danger Zone
Author: remorsful_rain
Betas: Lady Kiren, samtheburrito. Thank you guys this one was a doozy!
Movie Adapted: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0092099/
Fandom: Rebbot
Genre: Slash, Het, Gen
Characters/Pairings: Kirk/Bones, Sulu/Chekov, Uhura/Spock, Scotty, Pike, Chapel
Rating: PG-13 for language
Word Count: ~16, 900
Warnings: The romance may or may not spontaneously appear.
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended; fair use only. Not created for profit.
Note 1: This story takes place in a time frame between current day and the Star Trek era. I’m thinking around 2076 or something close. Interstellar travel hasn’t been invented, there are shuttle like craft and T.V’s and such have advanced (because honestly we all know entertainment technology usually evolves the fastest.) The planes referred to in this fic are similar to the planes in the movie Stealth. (If you haven’t seen it I have a link to some pictures here.)
Note 2: Starting in part two, and I will mention it again there, once everyone is introduced they refer to each other by their call signs. Jim is the exception because I don’t think he’d refer to himself as Maverick in his head. Sorry if the call sign stuff is confusing. Now onto the fic!
Character List:
Lt. Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell= Lt. Jim ‘Maverick’ Kirk
Charlotte 'Charlie' Blackwood (A.K.A Love interest)/ Lt. (j.g.) Nick 'Goose' Bradshaw = Lt. Leonard ‘Bones’ McCoy
Lt. Tom 'Ice Man' Kazansky = Spock ‘Iceman’
Lt. (j.g.) Ron 'Slider' Kerner = Lt. Noyta ‘Amazon’ Uhura
Cmdr. Mike 'Viper' Metcalf = Cmdr. Christopher ‘Viper’ Pike (Not referred to by his call sign)
Lt. Bill 'Cougar' Cortell = Cougar
Lt.(j.g.) Leonard 'Wolfman' Wolfe = Lt. Hikaru ‘Wolfman’ Sulu
Lt. Rick 'Hollywood' Neven= Pavel ‘Moscow’ Chekov
Lt. (j.g.) Sam 'Merlin' Wells = Montgomery ‘Scotty’ Scott
Cmdr. Tom 'Stinger' Jordan= Archer
On May 23, 2079 the United States Navy in joint with the United Nations established an elite school for the top one percent of the world’s pilots. The purpose was to teach these pilots how to fly some of the most advanced weaponry ever built, and ensure that the handful of men and women who graduated were the best in the world.
They succeeded.
Today, the Navy calls it Fighter Weapon School. The flyers call it:
Top Gun
Jim Kirk stood outside the captain’s office. It had been less than fifteen minutes since Cougar, looking shaken and pale, had walked past and entered Archer’s office. Jim had been standing here for more than thirty minutes, with nothing to look at but gray painted steel and the occasional crewman. He knew he was being punished for the stunt he’d pulled today, but couldn’t stop the smirk as he leaned against the hard, unforgiving wall. Those Rots had really shaken Cougar up and Jim had abandoned his own landing to turn back and guide him down. Archer probably wasn’t too pleased, but it was worth it though; both he and his wingman had made it back in one piece.
Jim eyed the door next to him as it swung open and Cougar came out. He looked like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
“Cougar? “ Jim asked.
“Thanks, Mav,” was all the man said before he turned the corner and disappeared.
Cougar had a wife who had recently given birth to their first child. He couldn’t forget the way the man had passed the picture around with his face permanently stuck in a grin. Jim knew why Cougar had been in Archer’s office and, though the man would get to see his family, it still stung a little to lose a good pilot.
“Kirk! Get in here!” Archer’s growl had him snapping to attention and following orders.
“Yessir?”
He could feel Archer’s eyes rake up and down him as he lounged in his chair.
“You did a brave thing today,” Archer began, but Jim could tell he was just gearing up, “What you should’ve done was land your plane! You don’t own that plane, the tax payers do. Your ego is writing checks your body can’t cash! You’ve lost your qualification for squad leader four times! And you have a history of high speed passes over control towers and one pass over an admiral’s daughter!”
Jim smirked a little at the last part. Penny had been worth it too.
“It’s not funny. You’re just lucky to be here and let’s not bullshit around, Kirk. Your name isn’t exactly the best in the navy. You’ve got to be better and cleaner than the other guy. Now what is it with you?”
“I just want to serve my country and be the best fighter pilot I can be, sir,” Jim replied looking straight ahead.
“Don’t screw around with me, Kirk. You’re one helluva instinctive pilot, maybe too good, but, as much I would love to bust your butt, I have another problem. I’ve got to send someone from this squadron to Miramar. I still… I still can’t believe it. I’m going to give you your dream shot. I’m sending you to train at the place that has the best, the fastest and the most technologically advanced war planes in the world. You’re going to Top Gun.”
Jim couldn’t completely stop his grin. The little twitch at the corner of his mouth hid his want to jump up and down and shout ‘hell yeah!’
Archer moved around his desk so he was standing directly in front of Jim.
“For the next three months, you’re going to be flying and training with some of the best pilots in the world. You’ll be learning to fly a plane that is roughly worth four times what you almost destroyed today. I almost feel sorry for the instructors I’m sending you to. Cougar was number one, you were number two. Cougar turned in his wings so now you’re number one, but remember. You screw up and you’re going to be flying a cargo trawler full of herbs to Gohn Ongk out in the middle of the beta quadrant.”
“Yessir!” Jim barked. Archer eyed him a few more moments, making sure his point got across.
“Dismissed.” Jim nodded and turned to leave, but Archer stopped him before he was out the door.
“Good luck, Kirk.”
“Thank you, sir,” Jim replied and was gone.
Deck of the U.S.S. Hood, Somewhere in the Pacific.
Naturally, Jim was one of the last people on the shuttle. Most of the seats had been filled, only three were left. Shrugging, he randomly picked one and sat down. Once strapped in, he was forced to wait for the remaining two passengers. The navy never wasted a shuttle trip so they were either full of cargo or full of people.
Two minutes later, a pasty, ill-looking man in a medic uniform stumbled aboard. Thankfully, he took the seat furthest away. It wasn’t that Jim had a weak stomach, rather he’d learned the hard way that being trapped in an enclosed space with vomit was never fun. The smell took forever to get out of a flight suit too.
Five minutes after that and he was starting to get aggravated. The rolling of the Hood beneath the shuttle was doing nothing to settle his aggravation. Their pilot had already had the pre-flight done and the engines were warmed up, they were just waiting for the last passenger. The person was keeping him from getting to Miramar, the only thing he’d been working toward the last three years. The one thing he’d ever decided to put actual effort into and look what happened, go figure life couldn’t hand him everything on a silver platter could it?
The sounds of a scuffle told him, the last passenger had finally arrived.
“McCoy, get in the shuttle.”
“I am getting in the shuttle, I’m just saying the possibility of-“
“Sir, get in the shuttle.” It sounded as if the speaker was exasperated and on their last nerve.
“Fine! I’m going, I’m going.”
A tall, somewhat scruffy looking man wearing an airman’s uniform stumbled up the steps. His face was twisted into a scowl as he settled himself into the only remaining seat, one that just so happened to be right next to Jim.
“I might throw up on you,” the man warned as he belted himself in.
“Um, I’m pretty sure these things are safe,” Jim replied. What was with all the barfing people today?
“Don’t pander to me kid,” the man spoke.
“You’re a pilot and you get air sick?” Jim had to ask, because the guy was wearing a pilot uniform and all.
“In anything that goes less than mach one. I’m afraid of flying.”
Jim just blinked; this guy was a weird one alright.
“Okay,” Jim conceded slowly, “You’re a pilot and you’re afraid of flying and you get airsick? So, why’d you join The Fleet?” The man shrugged.
“Didn’t have anything else. There’re only so many jobs you can get once you’ve been divorced and black listed by the medical community.”
Jim made his decision right then and there, extending his hand he yelled over the sound of the engines firing.
“Jim Kirk.” The man eyed his hand before grasping it firmly.
“Leonard McCoy.”
Jim nodded, smiling. Their conversation was over for now since inertia was slamming them back in their seats as the shuttle took off, but Jim couldn’t help but think he kinda liked McCoy, with his southern drawl and acerbic statements.
The ride was long and boring. It took almost two and a half hours to reach San Francisco and from there he still had to wait forty-five minutes before the next shuttle took him to Miramar. Jim quickly undid his belt, grabbed his duffle and stepped off the shuttle. His new friend had shot off the moment the shuttle had landed and Jim hadn’t seen him since. He was kinda disappointed, but it really wasn’t anything too major.
Jim heaved a sigh, and tried to figure out what terminal he was supposed to go to. The locator key didn’t help him much, it just set him off in a vague direction. He hated the new advancements in technology sometimes. Scientists could build an A.I. but heaven forbid they build a computer that actually gave correct directions. So, that’s how he ended up in D5 when he was pretty sure he was supposed to be in H3, it had probably been a right at A1, not a left. Jim growled in frustration, running a hand through his already tousled hair. This just wasn’t fair; at this rate, he was going to miss his shuttle all together!
“Are you lost?” The casual drawl caused him to look around.
“Oh, hey,” Jim greeted his friend from the shuttle.
“So?” Leonard replied, leaning back in his seat and eyeing him. Jim shrugged.
“Basically, and the locator won’t give me a straight answer. Where are you going?”
“Miramar.”
Jim nearly choked on his own spit.
“What? Really?” then his face broke into a grin, “Me too.”
Leonard stared at him a moment before he rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “Just great” right before Jim plopped down next to him.
“So you’re in the Top Gun program too?”
Leonard nodded, closing his eyes and tilting his head back.
“So you’re scared of flying, get air sick if you fly slower than mach one, and you’re one of the top pilots out there?”
Leonard just grunted.
“Hmm, you’re divorced and blacklisted by the medical community. Hey, were you a doctor or what?” Jim asked, his curiosity burning and his sugar intake too high. The three slushies probably hadn’t been a good idea.
Leonard opened and eye, “Yeah, Dr. Leonard McCoy.”
When Jim didn’t make a move of recognition, he open both eyes.
“You haven’t heard about me?” Jim shook his head.
“How often did you go to medical on the Hood?” Jim shrugged.
“A lot.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Leonard rolled his eyes before continuing. “And yet you haven’t heard any of the staff muttering about me?” Jim just shook his head.
“No, but I bet you’ve heard about me.”
He settled back into his chair, with arms crossed and an eyebrow raised in question.
“Are you referring to you’re flying style or your conquests in bed?” Leonard asked point blank.
Jim felt his face color slightly; the whole Penny thing had gotten around pretty fast and stuck around.
“Well, I see my reputation precedes me.”
Leonard just grunted and closed his eyes again.
“Do you have a nickname or anything? Leonard sounds too long, Lenny just sounds annoying, and Leo doesn’t suit you,” Jim asked after a moment of silence.
“Most people just call me McCoy.”
“As much as that fits your tight-ass personality I don’t like it…”
Jim was lost in thought and totally missed Leonard’s glare.
“Hmm I know! You’re a doctor, ‘sawbones’, ‘Bones!’” Jim grinned, proud of himself.
“What? No! And I’m not a doctor anymore, so it doesn’t apply,” Bones snapped, still glaring at him. Jim just took it in stride. He had a feeling Bones glared and snapped a lot, but really didn’t mean any of it.
“Why not? Just because you’re not a professional doctor doesn’t mean you don’t still know stuff. Technically you’re still a doctor,” Jim pointed out as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Just call me McCoy, I don’t need a nick name. I didn’t have one before and I don’t need one now.”
“But yes you do. We’ve been selected to fly some of the coolest planes ever. You have to have an awesome nickname,” Jim wheedled. Bones’ glare intensified.
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes. You do.”
Bones scowled at him, lines forming in his forehead.
“I’m still gonna call you Bones no matter what, and stop scowling like that, you’re gonna make you’re frown lines worse, old man.” Jim chirped cheekily.
Bones, recognizing a losing battle when he saw one, just groaned and closed his eyes, hoping to get at least some peace before the shuttle got here.
“Rest up, Bones,” Jim added teasingly, making Bones snort.
They had another fifteen minutes or so before the shuttle came to take them away to the beginning of a major part of their lives. Jim allowed himself a bright grin. This particular terminal was empty, and the lights dimmed and he just sat there and waited, his heart racing with excitement.
Part 2