Fanfic: Sands of Time [ 5 / ? ] Reaper!McCoy / Reese!Chekov

[dr_harbinger]

Title: The Sands of Time
Rating: M
Fandom(s): Star Trek XI, DOOM, Terminator Salvation
Disclaimer: Okay, if I owned ANY of these (other than on DVD) would I be writing this? I think not.
Warnings: MASSIVE CROSSOVERNESS, AU, OOCness, m/m relations, language, violence
Summary: Kyle Reese, as a Resistance fighter, was practically made sterile due to nuclear radiation so had to become the test subject for a drug that would regenerate radiation damaged tissue… and as such became essentially immortalized. In the year 2046, he met a former Marine codenamed Reaper, recently fired from the RRTS after the massacre of the UAC base on Mars and they formed an unbreakable bond. Centuries pass and face a new future, a new set of lives, in Space as Starfleet officers. Will their bond survive the test of space travel and exploration with Starfleet?

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PART V -- LET THE GAMES BEGIN
PART ONE - APOLOGY

According to Pavel Chekov’s calculations, it would take another month for the Enterprise to return to Earth from their current location assuming there was no side mission they had to participate in. Kyle Reese called bullshit on the hope that there wouldn’t be. Starfleet may have lost a good portion of their fleet but the Enterprise was still their flagship -their baby- and they wanted to show her off, no doubt, as soon as possible, regardless of the fact she was now technically crippled. At least they were far enough away from both Romulan and Klingon space that they didn’t have to worry about some random ass attacks. Right now, Pavel’s job was pretty much exclusively the navigation part. Not that there was all that much to navigate around.

But because that job was so easy, Kyle’s mind wandered away from the mind numbing numbers that kept running around his navigation panel onto more personal matters. Like what the fuck was going on with this Jim Kirk guy. It was bad enough the bastard decided to come to him for a stress relieving fuck thinking he’d accept the guy without question but then the way he basically waltzed into John’s room without too much more than an obviously polite knock. Oh sure he knew John wouldn’t fuck around on him without asking first, if he hadn’t during the fifty years they had been together then there was no real reason to assume he would start now, but it was something that he felt could be a decently founded concern now given the circumstances.

The question was whether on not he was going to encourage the acting captain or not. After that little incident in John’s room, he didn’t dare go back but he did message the man, only to find out that there was a little bet going on between the two dickheads over who was going to seduce him. At first he had thought that it was some kind of joke but when Grimm assured him that it wasn’t, he was more than a little pissed. He wasn’t some pretty lady to be fought over by two Neanderthals. Just because he was smaller than they were, that didn’t mean he was any less of a man. Fuck he could properly take them both out and fuck ‘em harder than they’ve ever been fucked before.

Now that he had taken the time to calm down though, he could see the advantage to playing into this little game. He could flirt with both Jim and this “McCoy” persona as Pavel, feel out each man using his cute little boy attitude. Oh he knew what John was going for. He wasn’t an idiot. But maybe, just maybe, over the course of this little game he could find a way to get all three of them together and on the same page. As much as he loved John Grimm, he had been with the man for half a century. Maybe a new spice added to their lives and to their bedroom would give a bit more life to things. At least until they had to leave.

“Chekov,” someone said beside him and it took him a second or two to remember that the voice belonged to the Sulu kid, “You alright?” Kyle forced himself to pull out of his thoughts and glanced over at the concerned Asian features. They could be considered handsome he supposed if he was into such features. Not that this lieutenant was ugly. It just wasn’t really his thing. He supposed World War III certainly didn’t help with this. After all, the Asian nations had been the enemy.

“Da, I am fine,” he said, leaning over his console and looking over the numbers and trajectory again but finding, as before he started day dream, they were fine. “I vas just thinking about some zings.” He hoped the kid would just leave it at that.

Of course it wasn’t that easy.  It just couldn’t be. “You sure you okay? I mean, maybe you should go to sickbay if you’re feeling out of it and distracted.”

“I am fine, sir,” Kyle snapped in response, really not needing to deal with this shit now, “I vas simply zinking about somezing personal. Eef eet becomes eessue I vill find Docktor McCoy but as ve are not een immediate need of my skills, I zought zat I could just seet back and relax for a minute vithout a problem but clearly I vas ‘rong.” He went back to his console and made a few course corrections for objects that they wouldn’t be coming to for some hours yet just because he needed something to do. He didn’t need to look behind him to see Kirk staring at him or Spock, who quirked an eyebrow at his outburst.
“Ensign Chekov, if you have a moment, I’d like to talk with you about something.” It took everything the Resistance fighter had to keep from beating his head against the console. First Sulu then Kirk? He had just spaced out for a minute! What was wrong with that? A lot apparently. “Come with me to my Ready Room. Spock, you have the con.”

“Yes sir.”

“Come on now Ensign.”

Kyle knew better than to try and protest such a command so he quickly saved his information and logged out of the network, leaving the log in page open for the navigator moving to take his place. It was only temporary but he had quite a bit of information under his personnel file that he didn’t want these kids to look at just yet, even by accident. With that done, he moved quickly to follow the captain to the room in question, noting quietly to himself the other man’s posture and the way the others stared at them as they left. He immediately tensed up himself. Being alone with Kirk anywhere, on or off duty couldn’t be a good thing.

As soon as the doors to the captain’s ready room slid shut, Reese could sense a hand reaching for him and without really thinking about the instinct, he grabbed the offending wrist and forced the captain’s body against the conference table, the arm pulled far enough up his back for the threat of it dislocating to not be so much a thought as a promise. Despite being smaller and lighter, Kyle knew he had the advantage. The body he was holding down was unbalanced and the way he had it pinned meant balance wouldn’t be easy to achieve without some cost. “I do not care for your touch, Keptin Kirk,” he hissed in the blond man’s ear between his teeth, leaving the accent on his words for now, “just say vhat eet vas you needed to say and be done vit eet. I have vork to do to keep your ship from running eento anyzing important.”

Jim Kirk growled beneath him, trying in vain to push the supposed seventeen year old off of him only to find that his arm was in a grip to strong to belong to a mere desk jockey. “You know, ensign, I could have you court marshaled for assaulting an officer if you do not let go of me this minute.” Kyle snorted at the words. It was an idle threat at best but it would make getting the fuck off this ship and disappearing that much easier to do. Letting go he took a step back but kept himself ready for any further assault from the man. They were on duty but that didn’t mean anything.

As soon as the captain was able to stand again, he rolled his shoulder to ease the ache there, his blue eyes nearly icy in the man’s pretty boy features. It took a lot for Kyle not to smirk at the look. After spending fifty years with his own Grimm Reaper, he didn’t fear the angry looks from any man, least of all this farm boy who clearly had yet to see any real war. “What the fuck is wrong with you today ensign?” That tone was vaguely familiar and it took Kyle a minute to register that John Connor’s voice had a similar bark in it when he was pissy about something. “First snapping at the lieutenant and now this? Have you gone completely off the deep end?”

“I zink ze question ees one you should answer about yourself keptin,” Kyle had Pavel say, not worrying so much about keeping to the original character he had created. “Eet ees vone zing to lust for a junior officer but anozer entirely to valtz eento hees room and force yourself on heem.”

Kirk sighed at this, running a hand over his face as he tried to think of something to say. If he was going to try and make excuses for his behavior… “Look, Pavel-”

“Eet ees Ensign Chekov to you, sir.”

“-okay Ensign Chekov, look, back at the academy I thought you were more interested than you clearly are now. It was a mistake on my part and I should have taken a change of feelings into account. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” The captain tried to look as contrite as he could be but Pavel could read right through it, let alone Kyle Reese. The guy really needed to work on his poker face.

Folding his arms over his chest, Pavel held his head high with pride. “Eef eet zis ees true, I suppose I can forgive you zis vonce.” He tried not to sound as haughty as the words would make it seem but he was pretty sure it showed through despite his attempts. “But do eet again and you vill find out vhy eet ees few people piss off a Chekov and get avay unscathed.”

Kirk seemed to accept this threat and nodded his acquiescence. “I get it. I totally do. If you’d let me, I’d like to try and make it up to you somehow. I know that you’re with Bones but I’d really like to buy you dinner when we get back to Earth, just for the sake of apology.”

Bullshit. Even if he didn’t know of this minor competition going on Kyle would have been able to see through this one. It came with the territory of having survived an apocalypse,  world war, and several hundred years enduring rounds of mankind’s pathetic excuses for world domination. A man didn’t survive so long without literally losing his head (as Kyle figured that would be the only thing that could kill him) if he couldn’t learn a trick or two from the long pages of history.  For now, however, if he wanted to keep this little game going he was going to have to play along. Who knew? Maybe this Jim guy could actually impress him.

“I accept,” he said though he didn’t let the stern expression fall. He was still Pavel Chekov right now and Pavel didn’t know about the game these fools were playing or the true intention behind this littler apology dinner. “Are ve done here zough? I hawe vork on ze bridge I need to finish and I am sure zat commander Spock vould much razer you return to your station as vell.”

If the captain suspected anything from his words he didn’t show it. “You’re right, Ensign. We are done here. I just hope you can keep better control of that temper of yours the next time Lieutenant Sulu talks to you at the helm. Personal problems should not mix with one’s work, especially on a starship.”

“I vill keep zat in mind.”

The pair of them returned to the bridge and Kyle was quick to change the account on the helm from his temporary relief’s to his usual one, his attention not leaving the console even when the lieutenant next to him stared at him as if to start a conversation. While he had promised the captain he wouldn’t snap at the man anymore, that didn’t mean he had to be any more accepting of the Asian’s own advances than he was now. He had some work to do to correct that temp’s minor mistakes and he really didn’t want to have the distraction of someone trying to hit on him sweetly in the process.

“Captain,” Lieutenant Uhura’s voice said in her usual professional tone, “Message from Starfleet command for you, Captain Pike and Commander Spock.” In his many years on Earth, Kyle had met few women who could match the woman in her professionalism, even when given the parameters of her work. Nearly everyone knew she wasn’t fond of Jim Kirk and yet she sounded no more pissed with him than she would any other officer in charge. If Kirk decided to hit on her then that would probably change but at the moment, the Resistance fighter had to say he was rather proud of her for resisting the urge to kill the currently acting captain.

Kyle didn’t need to turn to see the blond eyebrow quirk or Spock finally pull himself out of whatever science induced trance he had fallen into. While he had dealt with Vulcans before, he had to admit their culture of trying to be completely emotionless threw him for a loop more than a few times. They reminded him a bit too much of living versions of the old terminators and that was not something he wanted to make a comparison out of.  Fucking technology and alien species who knew nothing of Earth’s real history.

“Lieutenant Sulu, you have the conn,” Kirk said and got up from his seat, “Uhura, patch the message to my PADD. If Pike needs to hear this we had better discuss this in medical bay.” There was the sound of two sets of heavy men’s footsteps walking to the turbo lift while both lieutenants acknowledged their orders with a sharp “aye aye”. Whatever the Starfleet commanders wanted, it couldn’t lead to anything good. Someone was going to be punished for breaking some regulations though who, exactly, he couldn’t be too sure about. Either way he was fairly John would fill in the details later.

PART TWO - MISSION ACCEPTED

John Grimm checked on his most recent and most challenging patient to make sure that everything was working the way it was supposed for the third time that day. Captain Pike’s surgery had definitely been one of the most challenging surgeries he had done on a human in a very long time, including the years before he was Leonard McCoy. A neurotoxin that forced a man to talk was hell to try and flush out of the system, let alone the insect itself. At the very least, Grimm had managed to surgically remove the thing without causing any further damage.

But because it had been the brain stem the damn bug had been attached do, he had to keep a near constant vigilance to ensure that the captain didn’t slip into critical condition or code out without warning.  As it was the man was sleeping, actually sleeping, after spending the day talking to sooth McCoy’s concern  as to exactly how much damage had been done to his memory or motor functions. For now it looked as if the captain would simply lose the use of his legs and he was damned lucky that that looked like all he had lost given how deeply buried that bug had been.

John frowned as he looked over the readings he was getting from the bio bed and the tricorder he waved over the older man’s body. Everything looked fine other than the spinal damage. He took a mental note to look into possible physical therapy or neuroregenators to correct that but he had a feeling that even with his enhanced mind, he was fairly sure the cure he was looking for was at least fifty years off. He sighed as he send the results from the tricorder to the patient PADD that rested at the end of the bed. Pike just would have to deal with being a cripple for the rest of his life and that was that.

Turning off his diagnostic instrument, the surgeon moved away from Pike to replace it where he had found it, his mind wandering elsewhere. Now that he had this bet going on with Jim Kirk he had to think of a way to seduce “Pavel Chekov” with his “Leonard McCoy” persona. In theory it should be easy. He was a relatively handsome older man, a doctor at that.  Add to that this new drawl he’s added to his voice and that bitter misanthrope attitude that would make him a rougher lover and it certainly sounded like something a cute seventeen year old navigator who was surrounded by older military men. He wouldn’t know. He hadn’t really been into men until he had met Kyle and slept with him for the first time. He didn’t quite know what he’d do if Kyle chose his best friend over him.

The doors to Sickbay opened just as he replaced the tricorder in it’s charger and he turned to see who it was. Of course it was Jim thought Spock following him was a surprise. A dark eyebrow quirked at the sight of them. He couldn’t see anything obviously wrong but that didn’t mean a thing. Not on this ship where the crazy and fucked up happened everyday. At least the Vulcans were out of his hair by now. Their odd physiologies were a pain in the ass to try and calibrate his instruments to.

“To what do I owe the pleasure Jim? Spock?” he asked in the Leonard McCoy drawl, crossing his arms over his chest and letting some of the exhaustion he would have felt had he been a normal human being seem into his tone, “Don’t tell me you managed to piss off Spock again. Dammit Jim, if you’re into getting your ass suffocated by Vulcans keep that kind of information to yourself.”

Jim looked at Spock for a split second before bursting out laughing. McCoy rolled his eyes and moved to walk passed the two back to his office. “Whatever it is you are here for, we can discuss it in my office. Pike needs his sleep. He’s had a long day.”

“Doctor, the reason we are here concerns Captain Pike.”

McCoy paused and turned. “And what might this concern of yours be? The man is still recovering from brain surgery. Unless this is a life or death situation, I’d recommend you let the man sleep peacefully now that he can.”

Jim sighed. “Bones, we got a message from Starfleet. Something that sounds dangerously close to orders. Because Pike’s back on board, he’s the commanding officer, meaning that he needs to hear this.”

John Grimm quirked an eyebrow at them.  He expected this kind of ignorance from Jim but the fact Spock went along with it was unexpected. “He’s returning to his commanding duties when I damn well clear him for it,” he said irritably, “and, as of yet, he hasn’t been cleared so, guess what? Whatever it was, Jim, you and Spock can handle it. If you really need to consult him, you can tell him later when he’s awake of his own volition.”

“Either way, we need to hear Starfleet’s orders.  Can we use your office since we’re here already?”

There really was no way to turn down those big blue eyes without feeling like he was kicking a puppy of some kind. With a heavy sigh Leonard nodded and lead the way.  “Consider this the one and only time you are allowed to pull this crap on me Jim. My office is for medical files, not your personal meetings. Got it?”

A mock salute. John was really tempted to snap this kid’s arm for insubordination but wisely refrained.  He had a feeling Jim Kirk would be getting more than enough broken bones on his own shortly after arriving on earth. He sighed. Well at least he would be able to eavesdrop on what the orders from Starfleet were. If there was one thing he learned from Olduvai, it was that being left out of the loop could lead to some deadly consequences.

He waited until Jim and Spock were in the office and had activated the “soundproofing” panels in the office before taking up a post next to the door. In truth, those panels only muffled the sound to John’s enhanced hearing, not blot it out completely but to the human ear (although he wasn’t too sure about Vulcan hearing) all sound was blocked off. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, forcing his focus to go to his hearing. It took a bit of effort to tune out the louder sounds of the bio bed and the nurses mulling about once that was accomplished he could hear the conversation inside his office as clear as day.

The Admiral that started talking wasn’t one that former Marine recognized right away. It was someone who was older but had recently been “promoted” to desk jockey from the commander of something. He could tell by the tone of the man’s voice. Someone who had never done any real field work had a completely different way of saying things than someone who had dodged bullets and come out with a few nightmares and scars to tell stories about. He had to say, it was a relief. He had been worried they were about to be ordered to pull some bullshit mission by someone who had no idea what they were walking about.

But the next words out of the admiral’s mouth had both Leonard McCoy and John Grimm tensing where they stood. They were being ordered to investigate a distress call from a Starfleet post on a planet not too far from their current location. The records that had been gotten had stated that all the men on the post were Russian scientists, studying the soil of the planet’s composition in an effort to determine if the planet was suitable for humanoid life forms to develop naturally. Apparently, when they had sent out the signal, they had only mentioned that they were under attack. By whom or by what, they hadn’t specified, in English or in Russian. Fuck shit hell damn bitch. The surgeon already knew who the away party would consist of and there was no way he was going to let Kyle go planet side with just a pathetic phaser.

He stepped away from the doors just as Jim and Spock accepted the orders, trying to school his expression into one of calm. He wasn’t the soldier he used to be any more. He was a medical man. A surgeon. Leonard McCoy wasn’t the type to enjoy violence. He didn’t like firing phasers and could barely handle hand to hand combat. He had to remember his persona, his character, before he blew his cover. He could not volunteer to go, not unless Jim told him what he now already knew and asked him to come along. As much as he wanted to protect his best friend and his lover from harm, he had to play dumb for now.

He had just barely managed to regain what composure he was fairly sure McCoy would have while trying to fill out the inane paperwork he had in front of him on his PADD when the door opened and a solemn looking Jim Kirk and unusually stoic Spock walked out. He quirked a dark eyebrow at them, asking of there was another future Romulan ship that they needed to stop but his response was a solid “No Bones. Meet us at 2000 hours in my ready room. We’ve got something important we need to talk about.” The fact that Jim was serious in the first place meant that his was very bad indeed.

There was no question in either persona’s mind as to what that meant. “Aye aye captain.” He didn’t say a word beyond that as the two of them left, presumably to go back to the bridge. He had some preparations to make if what he assumed was going on was indeed the way it was going to turn out. He needed to notify Kyle about what was just ordered before the Captain and his pet Vulcan got back to the bridge. At least his office was free now.

Without a word to his nurse about where he was going, the Chief Medical Office walked into his office and plugged his PADD into the main computer, his fingers immediately changing the language settings into Russian before quickly typing up a basic summary of what he had heard, making sure to include the names of a few of the scientists that had been mentioned. He huffed at a few of them. The fact that they were called scientists when their research was three-quarters bullshit amused him. However, they were considered important to somebody so it was worth noting. He could only hope that Uhura didn’t pick up on the fact that there was apparently more than one Russian speaker on the ship, though whether it would be her or just one of her communications subordinates, he wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter. Getting caught by anyone would be a bad idea at this point.

Within a few minutes of him sending the original briefing message, Kyle answered with a short one of his own, asking if John had been “invited” to attend the conference about the orders after the shift was over. His response was that he was but he smiled as he added a playful little bit about them sitting next to each other and acting as school children just to annoy Jim during the meeting. Their personas were nothing more than a head doctor and his youngest patient so it wasn’t as if they could do anything overtly obvious but that just made the game more fun. Pretending to learn someone (or at least learn this persona) from scratch was what kept the game interesting for them for the last fifty years or so.

They agreed, after the conference meeting, to have dinner in McCoy’s quarters to discuss whatever they might be assigned to do for this new mission. John and Kyle knew that this was going to be another major test and it was going to be a difficult one indeed. They were true fighters and had been for centuries. The weapons they had used over time were the latest and greatest, though they still had their respective favorites waiting for them on Earth in their respective apartments. They were supposed to be beginners when it came to handling a weapon in this life. Forgetting everything they had been trained to use as a second nature was going to be near impossible should the outing prove eventful indeed.

With the meeting decided on and a mini-game decided for the conference, John said goodbye to Kyle before logging off and unplugging his PADD. Other than Pike there were a few more patients he had to take care to check over, including a few Vulcan elders that were still rattled from their near death encounter on their home world. While they were physically healthy, he was concerned about their mental health more than anything and given what he knew of the culture, he felt he had good reason to be. The whole “mediate any problems away” approach was definitely not going to work this time for many of them, if any. If they needed to be sedated, he needed to know as soon as possible so he could get the sedative specifically for Vulcans synthesized a lot faster.

“Doctor,” Chapel said, pulling out of his reading as he approached an occupied bio bed with, what he assumed, was a patient he needed to look at, “Are you sure you’re alright to be handling this?”

He quirked an eyebrow at her for asking him this. Yes she was his best nurse and throughout the fiasco with the Narada he had trusted her as if she was a full blown doctor in more than one occasion but he wondered if she knew she was somewhat out of line for asking him this. “Yes, I’m fine. What makes you think otherwise?”

“If you don’t mind my saying so sir-” and he did mind but he was going to let her speak anyway “-you looked about ready to kill something when you saw the Captain and Commander leave earlier. I had thought you were overly stressed about the new paperwork and patient load. If you’d like I can call in Doctor M’Benga and you can go ahead and get some rest.”

He nearly scoffed at her. “I’m fine,” he said and he meant it. He had seen far worse than this. He’d make it.

PART THREE - THE PREPARATION

Kyle wanted to beat Kirk’s head against the wall and Commander Spock’s right afterward. Actually, it was probably safer to do it the other way. If the Vulcan was knocked out first the human would be easier to deal with. Either way both of those commanders needed to get their heads out of their asses and use the information they were being given properly. If they couldn’t tell that this was a set up of some kind they were fucking idiots that needed to be fired before they got too many innocent bystanders killed through their stupidity. He could tell that John was thinking the same thing. It may have been a few centuries since either of them were involved in a real war but the basics of tactics never left the mind a well trained soldier.

The meeting itself said nothing that wasn’t entirely unexpected. There were three Russian scientists that had gone missing though there was a hint that they had been attacked. Who it was that attacked them and what the objective of the attackers were no one was certain but it apparently had something to do with their research. out of the corner of his eye, Kyle saw his lover shift uncomfortably. This must had sounded remarkably like the briefing he had gotten before going to Olduvai. Subtly he reached over and squeezed the younger man’s knee in assurance, only to have his hand gently squeezed in return as acknowledgement before allowing them to separate. The mission was simple. Find out what happened to the missing scientists, turn off the signal, and report back to Starfleet on what they found. Nothing was ever that simple.

Kirk decided on the away team, of course with his pet Vulcan’s approval. It would be the captain, five security officers, Pavel (because he spoke the native language of the scientists), and McCoy (in case the scientists were found and needed to be operated on in the field). Kyle was tempted to point out to both of his commanders how stupid it was to allow the captain to go into a potential hot zone with only five pussy security folk, a translator and a doctor but he held his tongue, knowing better than to speak out. It would have revealed him for what he was and as it was, he really didn’t need the help. Kirk was already doing a fine job in forcing him to show his true self more often then not.

As no body had any reason to protest -so nobody did- they were dismissed with the announcement that they were going to arrive at the planet within twenty four hours so everyone on the team should get some sleep and be ready to move out at what would be ass-o-clock if they had been on Earth. If there was one advantage to space, it was that time could be whatever you wanted it to be. There was no “morning”, “afternoon” or “evening”. Everything was counted in Earth hours and even then that was just to make sure that no one was overworked unnecessarily. Kyle knew he was grateful for this but he didn’t know about John. The guy developed a hatred for space after Olduvai (obviously) and hadn’t exactly gotten rid of it, after all these years.

But as they left the conference room, Kyle thought about the distress signal recording that had been played while he followed John to his quarters. He didn’t worry about being run into while he stayed deep in thought. His body automatically moved to step out of the way of oncoming pedestrian traffic and he knew the way well enough to be able to find Leonard McCoy’s quarters without really paying attention. All he needed was to visit a particular room on this ship once. Afterward he would have the path memorized and would never have trouble finding it again, at least while sober.

Something about the distress call was bothering him and once he figured out he began wishing he could beat some sense into his commanders. The words in English had been words calling for help in utter panic. The words in Russian were simply codes spoken in the same tone of voice as the English panic. Those codes were probably passwords to some kind of important information these guys had tried to hide in their computers. That meant they were trying to give the information away but not to the Federation necessarily. After all, Pavel Chekov may have been a Russian born prodigy who had got admitted into the American school and therefore was stationed on an American ship but that didn’t mean that there were any other Russians on any other ships that could have been of any use. No. Kyle was willing to bet almost anything that the codes were designed for information found on their stupid research computers that connect to the black market somehow. If there was one thing Russian minds were good it was maintaining the illegal trade routes around the galaxy and this appeared to be a pick up point of some kind.

However, if they were really dealing with the black market down on what-the-fuck planet, the little party of eight they were bringing? It wasn’t going to be enough. Those five security guys were going to go down so quickly they wouldn’t even realize what it was that hit them. Knowing their luck, the traders would have whatever natives that were actually sentient on the planet working with them, making things that much harder for them. Still, there was no point in reporting this to Kirk know. He’d ask how they knew the information they did and that would quite simply take too long to explain.

For now, Kyle would simply have to tell John what he knew so they could pick out a decent strategy for keeping at least Kirk alive. The stupid security saps were probably going to get ended too fast to bother trying to save their sorry asses. It would require a bit more research into the natives of the planet, if there was any information about them. Chances were that they’d have to bring some civilian wear if they wanted to remain inconspicuous though stealing weapons should be easy enough. So long as the weapons weren’t pathetic as fuck phasers, they should be able to survive long enough to make contact.

As the resistance fighter predicted, when he got to McCoy’s quarters, the man already had a glass of straight vodka poured for him and waiting on the table while the ship’s surgeon drank his bourbon like it was water. He supposed that for the larger man’s body, it was metabolized so fast it could be considered carbonated water or something equally harmless to the system. He waited until the door behind him closed before taking the seat with the vodka, immediately downing half of it in one big gulp. “So,” he said getting himself comfortable in the chair, “What do you think? Is this really a recon or a trap?”

John continued to sip on his drink as he thought about it, his gaze unfocused. The way he was sitting was more typical of Grimm rather than McCoy, the older man being so laid back on the couch and his entire posture relatively stress free. There was no real tension in his muscles from what Kyle could tell though that may have been a conscious effort on the man’s part. It was hard to tell with the former Marine.

“If it was anyone but the Russians I would say it’s just a  basic recon,” he ended up saying as he let the glass simply dangle from his finger tips after he had emptied it, “but the fuckers are not exactly the passive type.” John sighed and turned his attention to Kyle, who kept sipping his vodka with a serious expression on his face. “I don’t know if I’d call it a trap, this doesn’t sound like one, but I know this has got more than just some missing scientists involved with it.”

Reese cursed his luck in English and Russian before finishing his drink in one more swallow and getting up to put the glass away. He had hoped that his initial assumptions had been wrong. It had been a while since he played a hit-man for the black marketers but apparently he just couldn’t get away from them, even in space. John, who had spent even more time away from them than he had, picked up on their little scheme fairly quick. It was a shame that the rest of their shipmates were going in blind. They were going to lose a few good men over this.

“What do you suggest we do?” he asked his lover and put the glass down on the cabinet, not looking at the technically younger man with the older face, “We can’t exactly out ourselves just yet, not to an entire ship full of people.” If they really wanted to go in one hundred percent prepared, it would require that they have their own separate equipment and that they go down as civilians instead of the Starfleet uniforms. The bright colors worked fine on a bland ship but out in the wild on some random m-class planet that was fucking cold and covered in ice and snow? Bright blues, reds and golds would only make them targets that were that much easier to hit. “You wanna bring out own sets? Maybe grab an extra one for Kirk?”

John smirked at the mention of his friend and set his glass aside. “Why him? I thought you didn’t like our dear captain, Kyle.”

“I don’t.”

“Then why are we going to get shit together for him when it would just be easier to let him die on the planet, if it comes to that?”

Kyle’s dirty blond eyebrow twitched at the question. Surely John knew him much better than that. “I may not like the fucker but for now he is the commander of this ship. Our job is to keep the idiot alive and in as many pieces as he left the ship with as much as possible. It’s called loyalty. Semper Fidelis I think is what you Marines called it back in the day.”

Somehow the centuries old resistance fighter was able to turn around before he was pinned by his inhumanly fast partner and while normally being trapped would have gotten his instincts screaming at him to beat the person or creature away, everything was different with John. His instincts were still screaming at him but they were screaming something very different. He had to bite his lip hard enough to hurt to keep his focus. “That was a low blow,” John growled at him and for a minute or two he didn’t remember why that was. When he did he tried to look contrite, he really did, but it was difficult. He wasn’t sorry at all.

“Look, John,” Kyle said with a sigh, glancing over the man’s shoulder for just a second before looking him in the eyes again, “you’ve got to quit with this ‘alien world’ paranoia of yours. So terrible shit went down on Mars. I get it. You were made into something you never wanted to be made into and you were forced to watch your entire squad get wiped out. It’s not easy. But guess what? That shit is old news. Centuries old. And you need to get over it.”

“I am over it.”

There was a snort of disbelief. “And Klingons make good pets. You’re about as over that situation as Leonard McCoy is over his ex-wife.”

John’s growl became angry and he shoved Kyle a little harder than necessary against the cabinet (which was thankfully bolted into the wall so there was no chance of knocking it over) before turning around and walking back toward the couch. While he knew, theoretically, that the former RRTS member would never really forget that day it should have become something that he was less touchy about than he clearly was. Maybe it was the possible scenario that they had just come up with that made it a touchy subject again but either way it was something that needed to be dealt with now. They going into the field in less than twenty four hours. They needed to sleep, get their research done and pack their bags for the mission.

Still he waited a few minutes, just watching his younger lover try to calm his no doubt resurfacing feelings, before opening his mouth to say anything more. While Kyle Reese may be the physically younger of the two, he was the older soul. He knew a thing or two about that kind of PTSD and the best way to treat it in John. “Look, this isn’t going to be a repeat and you know it.” Carefully Kyle wrapped his arms around John’s waist from behind, resting his cheek against the strong back between the man’s powerful shoulder blades. “I’ll be there, you’ll be there, and, once we get Jim’s head in the game, he’ll be okay too. The only people we’ll lose will be the red shirts.”

Warm arms folded over his and he squeezed the stronger body gently. “If we could warn them without giving ourselves up we would but that’s not exactly possible this time around. Do you think you can handle five deaths?” It wasn’t a question of sanity. He knew the marine could handle death. Hell they both could. They wouldn’t have made it as long as they had without being able to handle death. The question really was whether John could stand by and simply watch as five men were taken out while he played his part as the ignorant surgeon.

John Grimm took a deep breath as he thought about this question, enjoying the warmth of his smaller lover wrapped around him from behind. Kyle was right. It wasn’t Jim he’d have to watch die or “Pavel Chekov”. It was just five random men, five security folk that knew, when they signed up for the damned job their life expectancies were dramatically shorter than anyone else onboard the starship. He should be able to tolerate the loss of them, even if it was right before his eyes, so long as the cause of death wasn’t particularly triggering. He was not going to have a fucking repeat of Olduvai happen if he had a say in the matter. “I think I can handle it,” he told Kyle after a long minute, carefully leaning back into the embrace, “so long as nobody looks like one of my old RRTS comrades.” After one more squeeze to Kyle’s arms he stepped out of the hug. “Now, what do you say we get started with that research we need to do.”

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PART IV: THE JOURNEY HOME

PART VI: LET THE GAMES BEGIN