In his three years of being the youngest (and most awesome) starship captain ever on Starfleet, Captain James T. Kirk had seen many things ranging freaky telepathic children to teaming up with Abraham Lincoln in space to in an alien contest of good versus evil. But really, none of those times could truly compare to the day when Scotty fucked up the transporter (ion storm his ass) and Jim ended up landing in a sandpit not unlike the one older Spock showed him on New Vulcan.
Unlike that nice leisurely tour of a fight ring on New Vulcan, though, the young captain found himself staring up at large, muscular men in armor and—
Jim's thoughts instantly derailed when he found himself staring up the skirt of a very fierce, but very attractive brunette lady warrior.
So what if he ended up in some weird planet where the aliens clearly thought they were some ancient (Viking, those horns made them Viking, right?) warriors? At least this planet had hot babes that weren't green.
Before he could crane his neck to look any further, a familiar cough caught his attention. A cough that Jim Kirk wouldn't ever dare to ignore even after over ten years.
His blue eyes looked away quickly as a very familiar hand grabbed at the front of his tunic and hauled him upright. Jim grinned like a kid that had just been caught by his awesome uncle stealing from a box of nanochips, which wasn't far off the mark. Jim had just upgraded from nanochips to looking up skirts.
"Uncle Laurence!" Jim was never one to ask the logical questions first (like why his awesome prankster uncle was on an alien planet wearing those really kickass clothes? Or why hadn't his uncle aged a bit since Jim last saw him when he was seven?). Besides, it always seemed better to pretend he knew exactly where he was when surrounded by suspicious, armed, and very burly bearded men. (Uncle Laurence excepted. He kind of looked odd next to everyone since he was kind of on the skinny side.)
" 'Laurence', Loki?" Someone asked from the crowd of beards. Chuckles rumbled through the crowd, but his uncle ignored the commentary and was still holding him up like he didn't weigh more than a small sack of flour. There was no smile on his face, which definitely meant Jim was in trouble.
"You are not supposed to be here, James." No shit, Jim thought, but he wasn't about say it out loud. The last thing he wanted to happen was for Uncle Laurence to leave him alone with the alien Vikings, even if they had a hot chick.
