Stardate 2258.145

Space... the Final Frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise. Her ongoing mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life forms and new civilizations, to boldly go where no one has gone before.

The glare of a strange sun illuminated an equally unknown planetary system, small rocky worlds and giant gaseous orbs alike swinging in orbits as ancient as they were uncharted. The Enterprise sailed past that sun, silhouetted against its white-gold splendor. It was the very first Federation vessel to reach this particular part of space, and for all its crew knew, they were the first sentient beings to lay eyes on this solar system. The very blackness of space itself seemed to seethe with expectation, like the curtain before a play…

"Check," said James Tiberius Kirk casually, suppressing a yawn as he looked up at Spock across the three-dimensional chessboard. It was the first word that anyone on the bridge had spoken for several minutes.

"And about time, too," grumbled Leonard McCoy, glancing blearily over at the combatants. "I was just about to set you two on a timer. I could swear if we left you alone, you'd just stare at the board all day."

"Fine, you play chess with the half-Vulcan next time and see how long it takes you!" Kirk shot back irritably, not taking his eyes off of the game.

"I am grateful for your action as well, Captain," agreed Spock, "albeit for a somewhat different reason." Picking up one of his bishops, he moved it up a level, capturing Kirk's queen instantly.

Kirk glanced frantically around the board for a way out of this new dilemma and bit his tongue in frustration. "Not again! What's going on here, anyway? I used to be able to beat you every now and then."

Spock adopted the facial expression that was as close as he usually got to a smile. "Indeed, Captain, and since then, I have been able to more closely study your rather unorthodox playing style and find ways to counter it."

Kirk scowled. This had been his third loss in a row to Spock, but he had little else to do with his time at the moment. As the Enterprise slowly made its way through the solar system, a small army of blue-shirted science officers were busy taking readings, comparing measurements, and generally having the time of their nerdy lives, but "upstairs" on the bridge, all that was required was to stay the course.

Uhura and a bored-looking Sulu remained at the controls of their respective instruments, but most of their fellow officers had long since ceased to try to appear productive. McCoy had buried himself in a Cardassian medical journal, Chekov had disappeared from the bridge an hour ago, and Scotty was, no doubt, getting closely acquainted with a bottle of scotch somewhere within the depths of the ship.

I suppose I should really be grateful for a quiet day, Kirk told himself, recalling the many times over the past three months that he'd had to extricate the Enterprise from mortal danger. But even to his own ears, he sounded unconvincing. The edge of danger was where James T. Kirk thrived, and watching his chess pieces disappear one by one was no substitute at all.

This was why, when Uhura rose and walked quickly over to him with a concerned expression, Kirk had to fight hard against displaying a broad grin. He attempted to compose his features into a "serious and concerned leader" look, but failed miserably, resembling a self-satisfied KIingon more than anything else.

"Captain, we've just received a message from an unknown sender," Uhura informed him crisply, a subtle note of "I can't believe I'm really working for this guy" audible in her voice (Kirk hastily attempted to rearrange his facial expression into something more sincere, but swiftly realized that he was doing more harm than good), "I have been unable to trace the communication so far, but they claim to be emissaries of an empire based on the second planet of this system."

"What do they want?" Kirk asked. Spock leaned forward in his chair, evidently interested as well.

Uhura's frown deepened. "They say they've recognized the Enterprise as the ship that—how did they put it?—'played a role in the incident involving the Romulan Nero' three months ago, and they want the Captain, Spock, Dr. McCoy, Mr. Sulu, and myself to beam down to the planet to be personally commended for our actions."

"So you couldn't tell who sent it, and they're asking most of our highest-ranking officers to beam down?" Kirk summarized. "I'm not sure I like the sound of that."

Spock inclined an eyebrow, looking pensive. "Considering especially that we have little or no data on the inhabitants of this star system, it would be wise to proceed with caution," he mused. "It is entirely possible that we would not like this mysterious sender's idea of…'commendation.'"

A heavy silence fell as the others pondered his words. As usual, Spock's logic could not be faulted.

"Well, I suppose that settles that," said Kirk with forced heartiness. "I couldn't agree more, Mr. Spock. Uhura, thank you for a trap well detected. The science team's research will have to wait, I'm afraid. Mr. Sulu, take us out of…"

"If you will allow me a moment, Captain, I had not yet articulated my complete opinion," Spock cut in evenly.

Kirk gritted his teeth, more than used to his first officer's contrarian tendencies by this point. "Go on…"

"It is entirely possible that this empire's designs are somewhat less benevolent than they claim," Spock said, "But all the same, our stated mission is 'to explore new worlds.' There are no prior Starfleet records of intelligent life in this system. Regardless of that life's intentions where we are concerned, it may well be our duty to investigate personally."

"Yeah, well, what good will that do us if they blow us all up the minute we set foot on their planet?" Kirk countered hotly. "We'll make a note of it, sure, and maybe Starfleet can send someone else in to explore, But this just sounds too much like a trap to me. It would be foolhardy to ignore our suspicions and just rush in."

"Who says we have to?" interjected Dr. McCoy, glancing up from his medical journal. "Certainly, we can beam down, but we don't have to play by their rules. Take some security officers with phasers ready, and be ready to beam out in a hurry if things go sour. The best of both worlds."

"There's probably such a thing as being too suspicious, anyway," Sulu added unexpectedly. "After all, there's a very good chance that they really do want to commend us…and it would be rude of us to pass up such an honor. And if not…well, as Dr. McCoy said, we should be able to escape in a hurry."

Kirk wavered, his mind's eye already painting him a picture of the five of them facing a cheering crowd, receiving medals, hearing words like "valorous" and "exceptional." And, of course, there was the thought of making first contact with an unknown world…

A moment later, he punched a button on the arm of the captain's chair. "Scotty?"

He heard the quickly stifled strains of what sounded like a Scottish drinking song, followed by hurried footsteps and a breathless "Yes Captain?"

"I'm going to be part of a landing party beaming down to the second planet of that system in about ten minutes. Stand by to beam us back aboard in a hurry if anything goes wrong…and take Ensign Chekov with you."

"Aye, sir."

"Sorry you didn't get invited, by the way," Kirk said, breaking the transmission before Scotty could ask what he meant. "All right everyone…let's get ready to go make some new friends."

Scotty walked through the door to Ensign Chekov's quarters with trepidation and took a long look around the small room, shaking his head. "Lad, I've seen tavern fights that turned out looking neater than this place," he commented drily.

Chekov didn't even look up from his Hercule Poirot novel. "All very well for an engineer! Not everyone is obsessed with precision, you should know."

Scotty surveyed the remains of a roast beef sandwich on top of Chekov's chest of drawers, the civilian clothes strewn across the floor, and the countless pages of scrawled equations that filled the room like a calculus blizzard had hit. "Whatever you say, Ensign. At any rate, didn't you hear the Captain calling us to the transporter room?"

Chekov waved his book irritably. "I was reading! I was concentrating on my book! It is a classic of Russian literature!"

"I'm afraid your whodunit will have to wait, lad," replied Scotty blandly. "A landing party is beaming down into a rather tricky situation shortly, and Captain Kirk wants both of us to stand by in case something goes wrong. Come on, now!"

"Right away, sir!" said Chekov, eagerly springing up from his bed. Scotty grinned—he'd known from the beginning that the ensign would jump at the chance to show off his technical wizardry.

The two strode off for the transporter room, Chekov grabbing his half-eaten sandwich as he left.

The landing party was due to beam down in less than a minute, and the tense feelings in the transporter room had become almost physically tangible. Kirk glanced around the cluster of red-shirted security officers surrounding him, phasers at the ready—at least a dozen grim, resolved faces looked back at him. If they were as nervous as he was, they certainly weren't showing it.

"A little unsettling, eh?" muttered McCoy, his tone darkly amused. "Having no idea if we're going to end up being hailed as heroes or shot at, I mean."

"Don't forget, you're the one who signed up for all this, enlisting in Starfleet," Kirk reminded him. "Mr. Spock, are we ready?"

"The landing party is prepared to beam down, Captain," Spock replied impassively. Sulu crossed his fingers, Uhura closed her eyes and tried to look calm, and the security crew shuffled around, forming a circle around their superior officers.

"Scotty?"

"Standing by, sir." Chekov gave the landing party a thumbs-up from the transporter console, grinning.

"Energize!"

"Energizing…"

Kirk felt the familiar tingling sensation of the transporter room preparing to beam them down. He took a final look around the landing party, who almost looked like statues in the golden light….

Where was all of the golden light coming from, anyway? The transporter room, usually lit with a silvery glow, suddenly looked like the inside of a sun. Kirk felt an unusual lurching sensation in his stomach—nothing like the usual experience of dematerialization.

Spock glanced over at him, his eyebrows raised in alarm. "Captain—"

And in a sudden, searing flash of light and heat, they were gone. The golden light faded, leaving an empty transporter room behind.

At the console, the enormous screen that Chekov and Scotty had been intently watching suddenly warped, collapsing into a garbled display of pixels.

"NO!" Chekov lunged for the controls and began frantically entering instructions. In seconds, the screen's normal display returned, glowing a bright cerulean blue. But there was one difference from its previous state, a difference that made Scotty's jaw drop: the cluster of seventeen diamond shapes that had represented the landing party had vanished.

For several long, long moments, the two simply stared at the screen, as if trying to will the diamonds back into existence. Standing by, the screen read blandly.

"Something has gone wrong, hasn't it?" Chekov asked weakly.

Scotty took a deep breath. "Aye."

Far, far away, James Tiberius Kirk's eyes snapped open. He felt tremendously dizzy, and he was sprawled full-length on some unfamiliar surface. He could blearily discern the shapes of his fellow officers beginning to stir around him.

Most unnerving by far, though, was the sound still echoing through his head.

The sound of screaming.

Welcome one and all to my latest writing endeavor, and may you all live long and prosper!

I wasn't always a Star Trek fan, but I consider myself to be one now. If I made any mistakes, bear with me, as I'm a newcomer!

You've probably noticed that this story is listed as a crossover. That's also a new experience for me, but the idea of bringing two fictional universes together—particularly these two—is an absolute geeky thrill. I have a lot of plans for this story, and I invite you all along to see how it unfolds. By the way, I'd like to mention now that this story is going to owe a good deal to my beta-reader/co-writer Aberolingarn, who knows far more about a certain franchise than I do.

Now for a few Nerd Notes (which will almost certainly be a regular feature):

-I'm using the 2009 movie's stardate system. 2258.145 is May 25, the day A New Hope hit theaters. One of many little homages to come (though that is indeed three months after the events of the Star Trek movie, as well, which took place in mid-February if my math is right).

-Cardassians officially debuted in The Next Generation, but by the 2009 movie they were apparently well-known enough to have a drink named after them on Earth. Good enough for me!

-Chekov was originally supposed to be solving a murder mystery on the holodeck—and would've appeared with a virtual knife in his hand when Scotty found him—but, you know, holodecks were really a Next Generation thing. I know there was a prototypical one in The Animated Series, but that just didn't seem to be close enough. Hopefully the Ensign's introduction was still fun.

-Speaking of Chekov, his mistaken belief that everything was "inwented in Russia" was a running gag in the original series. I make a nod to that here with his misconception about Hercule Poirot (Poirotovitch?)

-It should be noted that Scotty is awesome. My story will reflect this fact.

All right, stay tuned for more thrilling developments, and I hope you enjoy! Please let me know how I'm doing with reviews/feedback.

Maecenas out.