Chapter Twelve: Unorthodox Measures
Warning! Contains Time Travel! I have a bit of very good advice from Voyager's Captain Janeway about dealing with time travel: "Don't even try." Second Warning: Some new (to Sleight of Hand) characters are taking the stage. YYH-literate readers have probably guessed who… What else is there to say? Oh yes:
ON WITH THE SHOW!
"Shuttlepod Onizuka, you are cleared for launch," Data's voice crackled across the commlink.
"Acknowledged, bridge," Kurama replied, triggering the commsystem with one hand. "Ready to launch."
"Run us through again; just what are you planning?" Picard joined the conversation from the bridge.
"It's very simple, Captain," he explained patiently. "We're going into Hel's Gate, traveling along one of the fluctuations, and picking up some old friends. Then we're coming back and going after Fenell and whoever he's got with him."
"Do you know what you're doing?" Picard demanded suspiciously.
He's really catching on to us, the redhead thought mirthfully. Out loud, he replied, "No, but it will work out anyway. Don't worry, Captain, we're not going to steal your shuttlecraft."
Hmm…you sure?
Let's finish this problem up first, and then we'll consider stealing it. Finishing the preflight routines, he cut off whatever the captain would have retorted with by lifting the small Onizuka off the bay floor. A soft roar of engines, which would soon vanish into the void, accompanied the craft's movements.
"Opening bay doors," Data continued, monitoring the activity in the bay from twelve decks away.
"Departing shuttlebay," he ended the routine. Cutting off the commlink before Data could initiate any further procedural banalities, Kurama leaned back in the pilot's chair and sent the shuttlepod spinning towards Hel's Gate.
We spent three hundred years getting away from those idiots, Hiei continued to grumble in the back of his mind. And at the first sign of trouble, here we are running to go get them again.
Hardly the first sign. We've never gotten the chance to try something like this before.
We can handle this on our own.
How were you planning to get within range to kill him if Fenell's armed with infernium?
He wasn't expecting an answer, and didn't get one, merely a change of tactics with When have we ever needed those idiots?
No one has ever accused you of sentimentality, have they? he teased his companion.
Not even you would dare.
Must you have the last word?
Makes a nice change, the koorime snapped back without rancor as the amber-red of the Gate enveloped their craft.
Immediately pummeled by the least intense fluctuations, propelled only a few kilometers, as opposed to the light-years the more dangerous eddies would transport a ship, the lights, although redundant due to the glow of the Gate and the demons' far superior senses, quickly failed, and power ceased to flow to any systems but the thrusters.
Rough, Kurama commented.
Perhaps, but we've felt worse though. The Enterprise would be much slower—too big to maneuver properly. A pause. One of the nice things about being small.
"Tell Kuwabara. I'm sure he'll be happy to hear about it."
That wasn't worthy of a reply, although the idea that he probably wouldn't understand anyway lurked in both minds without either suggesting it. "We're almost there. Hang on."
A sudden burst of power created recoil that tossed the little Onizuka into the roiling current that would, if all went well, throw them dozens of light-years away and three hundred years back.
If all did not go well…
Well, they'd deal with it.
"Onizuka has vanished from sensors," Data reported.
"How will we know if they are successful?" Deanna asked.
"If they come back," Picard muttered, "and not before." He tapped his commbadge. "Engineering, this is the bridge. Report."
"Repairs are-are in progress, Captain," Barclay's nervous voice crackled over the link.
"Lieutenant?" Captain Picard asked, slightly startled by the unexpected if not wholly unfamiliar voice. "Where is Mr. La Forge?"
"Jeffries Tube 73, Capt-captain, at last communication. I-I can patch you th-through to him—"
"No, there's no need for that, Lieutenant. Do you have a time estimate?"
A pause. "Five hours, twenty-three minutes, sir."
The captain raised one eyebrow. "That is commendably precise, Mr. Barclay."
"Data would have added milliseconds," Commander Riker muttered conspiratorially for everyone to hear.
Picard shot his Number One a look as Barclay explained, "The d-dilithium crystals had a hairline fracture, Captain, a-a-and we had to deactivate the plasma injectors to re-replace the crystals. The plasma needs tha-that much time to recharge."
"Understood," Picard sighed, pacing the bridge restlessly. "I suppose not even the redoubtable Mr. La Forge can speed up plasma. Are other repairs proceeding?"
"Aye, Captain. Maybe it was because everything was shut down, but less than you might think got fried." As he continued to talk about something he knew, his habitual stutter decreased. "The shields are back up to eighty-five percent, but we'll soon have them up to full power for you, sir!"
"Excellent, carry on, Lieutenant," Picard praised him. "Bridge out."
"You've done a great job with him, Deanna," Riker told the half-Betazoid.
Troi smiled. She had been working very hard with the chronically shy and perpetually nervous Barclay, and was pleased that their sessions had borne fruit.
Picard continued to pace, uncomfortable with his ship being unable to maneuver. "Mr. Worf, any sign of the Lhyarri fleet on sensors?"
"No sir. However, I have located Fenell's shuttlecraft."
"Put it on main viewer."
"They are out of visual range."
"Put tactical on main viewer anyway, Mr. Worf."
"Aye, sir," the big Klingon muttered, manipulating his controls. A second later, a vividly colored tactical display materialized on the big forward viewscreen.
In the center was the Enterprise, represented by a pulsing white dot. Almost right on top of it, an amorphous cloud-shape with tentacles, presumably Hel's Gate, was a flat red. The bottom starboard corner was graced with an oscillating green dot slowly moving out of the chart—Fenell's shuttlecraft.
"Sensors are unreliable upon attempting to obtain readings within the Gate from without," Worf rumbled, explaining the lack of detail almost apologetically.
"Understood. Where is the Lhyarri fleet predicted to enter scanning range?"
Worf tapped at his console. "At current status, we will pick them up on sensors approximately three hours before rendezvous. Extrapolating from their last known position and departure trajectory, they will most likely approach from this direction." In the top left corner of the screen, a scatter of blue dots appeared, flashed briefly, and then vanished.
Riker studied the diagram. "Mr. Worf, could we use Hel's Gate as a shield of sorts?"
"Sir?"
"Your predictions show them approaching from the opposite side of the Gate. Could we maneuver at impulse around the Gate, keeping it between them and us?"
"At best, they would be diverted for only a short while. They do, after all, outnumber us. In a battle of one against one, your strategy, commander, would be more effective."
"But it could buy us time if we need it," the captain added. "And, if they're forced to split up, the number coming against us at any one time is greatly diminished. They can't come through the Gate's area without risking severe damage, so they would have to change course to box us in. Good thinking, Commander. Mr. Worf, run simulations. I need you to analyze the probable result of a diminished-odds battle such as Number One outlines."
"Sir, with respect, the results will be highly suspect. As of yet, we have no data on their weaponry nor tactics in battle."
"Do your best, Mr. Worf. Mr. Data, I believe Mr. Worf has located Fenell's shuttlecraft. While he is running the projections, can you extrapolate their course? The least we can do is have a destination to give our allies by the time they get back."
"Captain, they appear to be headed for a small M-class planetoid in the Anaran system, approximately two point five light-years away. Although the class of shuttlecraft they appear, at this range, to be using is ideally capable of only Warp Three, their current velocity indicates that they are overloading their engines to achieve Warp Five. It will be another hour and a half before they reach it, and their warp engines may shut down before they succeed. However, any engineering knowledge that can boost the engine output so drastically is unpredictable, and their ultimate status is yet unknown. The planetoid that is their destination is uninhabited; there are no known settlements, either native or foreign, known. It is approximately the size of Earth's Moon, and orbits in a 257 day year, with 28.9 hour days—"
"Yes, that's quite enough, Mr. Data."
"Sorry, sir."
"Digging in," Riker said softly.
"What was that, Number One?"
"They're getting ready for a last stand, I would assume. In a shuttlecraft that's only capable of Warp Three—Warp Five if you're willing to sacrifice the ship—they can't get anywhere anytime soon out here, so they're taking the last option left to them. When your back's against the wall, you have to stand and fight."
It was a full-fledged fight at Genkai's temple. Not unusual. Inside, said small woman rose, and not even bothering to try to break it up, slid the door closed forcibly. Any hope of the resulting slam making an impression on the brawling teens outside was lost as a new volley of shouting broke out.
It really wasn't worth interfering; nothing the elder lady or anyone else said or did had any effect. The two had probably fought the first day they met, and would probably be fighting the last day they ever saw each other.
And they're supposed to fight TOGETHER? Unlikely, to say the least.
Yet, despite their antipathy toward each other, they were a formidable team.
She winced through a sip of tea as something crashed to the ground; she didn't dare see what. In the week since Yusuke and Kuwabara had been invited at all but gunpoint to the Dark Tournament, a demon take-no-prisoners contest, something, usually skin, but sometimes scenery and/or furniture, had been broken each day.
Briefly considering at least seeing what they'd done now, she abandoned the notion in favor of her tea when two demon auras flickered on the edge of her senses. Normally, she'd be up in a moment to run them off if two demons turned up, but at the moment, and from the feel of the auras, maybe she would get some peace and quiet.
She set her tea aside and opened the door a crack, looking around through the small gap. "Ohaiyou," she growled over the tumult. (Good morning.)
"Konnichi'wa, Genkai-san," Kurama's voice hailed her from the rooftop. "Bad morning?"
"Loud," she grumbled.
"What date is it?" he asked.
Taken a little aback by the odd, seemingly random, question, she gave him today's date.
"Hmm. Arigato. We'll take them off your hands for a little while then." (Thank you.)
"That would be kind of you. Don't bother hurrying to bring them back," she added as she retreated back into the room, closing the door again to the accompaniment of a renewed round of crashes and obscenity from a distance.
Anything?
No, and I don't like it.
Well, I don't remember meeting myself at this time, do you?
No…
What?
Just paranoia.
It's strange, knowing that somewhere out in that city, there are others of us…
As long as we/they don't see them/us… Confusing in syntax, the mental image that flashed into their minds, that of the Kurama and Hiei from this time confronting the time travelers, made perfect sense.
"No, that is to be avoided," Kurama agreed, turning from the view of the city to the forest behind and around Genkai's temple. He easily located Yusuke and Kuwabara by the colossal din they were making—and the flares of power they were tossing about so recklessly.
Training, or fight?
Who knows?
Probably not even them.
Those idiots can't tell the difference.
"Well, the longer we stay here, the more time we use up, and we're in a hurry. Besides, I've got this sinking feeling that if we stay too long, Botan or Koenma will figure out that there's someone extra on the loose—and they don't really trust us right now, remember?"
"Right. I hate to say it, but between human idiots and Spirit World idiots—"
Leaping from the temple roof, they made their way into the once-familiar forest, memories slowly returning. In their time with the Reikai Tantei, Genkai's temple had become a neutral, all-purpose meeting place, whether to coordinate a new mission, or just to hang out. During the months before the tournament, they had trained harder than ever—and a secluded temple was ideal. The typical nature of spirit energy battles—which both Kuwabara and Yusuke had been trained to use—was bright, loud, distinctive combat.
"Oi! What are you two doing here?" an overly loud yell broke through the trees as they got closer, although they were still out of sight.
"Looking for you two," Kurama called back, unsurprised. Kazuma Kuwabara, the sixth sense of the team; loud, obnoxious, more than a little thick, but didn't give up—often foolishly, usually surprisingly successfully.
"Clear something up for us—is this a fight, or training?" the fox-demon asked as they joined the human, teenage members of their old team.
I'll bet that they don't know.
You know I don't take stupid bets.
"Uh, you know, that's a good question," Yusuke said, considering it. His hands were still glowing from his trademark Spirit Gun, and his black hair, which was usually slicked down with a substantial amount of hair gel, was tousled. "I was supposed to be training, until this oaf showed up."
"Hey, Urameshi, you liar!" Kuwabara shouted, a blade of bright golden-orange energy reappearing in his hands, dying his scruffy orange hair an even brighter shade. "I was here, and you showed up just to get on my nerves!"
"Enough," Hiei ordered them.
"I don't take orders from you, shrimp!"
"Shut up, Kuwabara," everyone told him.
Leave the big oaf alone, Kurama told the smaller demon privately as Kuwabara tried to decide whom to hit with his Spirit Sword first.
I'd almost forgotten how sick I was of that.
"Anyway, what brings you two around?" Yusuke asked, swinging an absent punch with a no-longer-glowing hand at Kuwabara's orange-haired head, and missing.
"Actually, wondering if you'd like something to do."
"Does it involve a fight?" Kuwabara asked. "I like that way of training better."
"Definitely yes."
Yusuke looked suspiciously at them. "Koenma didn't put you up to this, did he? Because then the answer's no."
"Fool. What makes you think we'd run errands for him?"
Yusuke grinned, wiping a sweaty face on his shirt. "Good point. Why didn't I think of that?"
"Because you're stupid."
"Hey!"
"Sorry, Yusuke, but you walked right into that one," Kurama told him, trying to hide a grin.
"I'll get you for that," Yusuke told the shorter demon, who didn't pay the slightest attention to the teenager's threat. "What's up?"
"There's only so much we can tell you until we're sure you're coming." You know, Picard's going to throw a fit about the Prime Directive.
Yes…
"I don't like the sound of that," Yusuke muttered.
"Don't you trust us, Yusuke?" Kurama asked. His smile held just a hint of a laugh.
"Hell no," Yusuke said straight off hand. He ran his fingers through his black hair, trying to slick it back down, and grinned impishly. "When do we leave?"
"Right now," Kurama told them. No one near?
Genkai.
Close enough. "Right, first rule where we're going—Don't touch anything. And I mean it."
"Why not?" It would be Kuwabara who'd ask.
"You'll see." He pulled a communicator from his pocket, hiding it in his hand so they wouldn't have to answer questions along the lines of 'what the hell' just yet. In Federation Standard, he hailed the Onizuka's computer and ordered instant beam-out of the four life-signs in the area.
"What the hell?" Yusuke and Kuwabara chorused in shock as they disappeared into blue and silver sparks.
"Where are we?" were the first words out of Yusuke's mouth as he rematerialized in Shuttlepod Onizuka's cockpit.
"Moon," Hiei replied dispassionately.
"We've been abducted by aliens!" Kuwabara shouted. He stopped short and thought about it for a moment. "Cool."
"No, you've been abducted by us—sort of," Kurama assured him, which probably wasn't particularly helpful.
"You're aliens?"
"No…" That's going to get us nowhere.
But you're doing very well.
Very funny—wait a second. Kurama spun on his heel to stare at his partner, holding up one hand to stop Kuwabara's shouting. This is a strange time to get a sense of humor, Hiei.
It wasn't a joke. It's true.
"Right…" he sighed aloud. Despite the mental link and three hundred years, he still wasn't able to deal with the jaganshi's obscure sense of non-humor. "Whatever. No, Kuwabara, we're not aliens. We're just not from now."
"Say what?" both humans said.
"Oh boy," Kurama sighed, sinking into the nearest chair. "This is going to be difficult. Don't touch that, Yusuke."
"Sorry," Yusuke apologized, snatching his hand from the console. "Now, what are you talking about, and what are we doing on the moon?"
"We are on the moon because it's highly unlikely Earth would be able to see the shuttlecraft from here. It's Earth's blind spot. As to what we're up to, the objective hasn't changed. There is a problem—a rogue spirit being—causing trouble in the time we just came from. Our allies are otherwise occupied and we've encountered difficulties, so we came to get you."
"How?" Kuwabara said suspiciously.
Kurama rolled his eyes. Hiei, would you turn off the Universal Translator?
Sure…
Proceeding to give Kuwabara a short, clipped lecture in Federation Standard of the bits of the physics of Hel's Gate that they'd picked up in the time they'd been in the area, Kurama was slightly amused by watching Kuwabara's eyes glaze over at the unfamiliar language.
"Hey, wait a second," Kuwabara admitted defeat, waving his hands. "I don't understand a word you're saying."
"Well, that's hardly my fault, is it?" he switched back to their mutual native Japanese without a pause. "The point is, here we are, there Fenell is, are you going to help us or not?"
"What if we say no?" Yusuke asked, rubbing one temple.
"Then we knock you out until we figure out what we're going to do about that," Hiei spoke up. That's a really good question—for him. What are we going to do?
Think of something on the spur of the moment. If we can keep them away from the Enterprise, we should be able, together, to wipe their memories of however long it takes.
A block wipe of hours/days?
They'd wake up just thinking they'd knocked each other out…I hope.
"I don't think so," Yusuke glared.
"Oh, really?"
"Of course we're coming! Better than waiting for some referee from the Dark Tournament to turn up and throw some monkey wrench at us!"
"And what about you, Kuwabara?"
"Duh! I'm not letting Urameshi have all the fun," the tall teenager bellowed.
"Good. Once we've crossed the Gate and gotten onto Fenell's trail, we'll fill you in on what we're up against."
"Cool," Yusuke said. "I wanna see the future. Just two more questions."
"What are those, Yusuke?"
"First, where'd you get the ship?"
"We stole it," Hiei snapped—a perfectly plausible scenario, if also completely untrue.
Kurama glared at him. We haven't stolen it yet. "And?"
The Spirit Detective grinned. "You got anything to eat on this spaceship?"
Author's Note: As you can probably tell, YYH fans, the timeframe I pulled Yusuke and Kuwabara from is mid-Book Six, a few months before the Dark Tournament. Two reasons for this: one plot-wise, one personal. Plot-wise, this is after the four Reikai Tantei have been established as a group. However, it's before they get really good, as I'm not going to make things too easy, and there's a long stretch of 'occupied' time (as far as I know) during the Dark Tournament arc. The second reason is, very simplyand rather pathetically, I'm only familiar with up to Book Eight. Past that, I know only fanon gossip, if that makes sense to anyone. I haven't found a translation site, and can't watch the episodes. AN Update: Short passages have been thrashed into shape. Nothing noticeable except the ideas about memory-deletion and the time-frame.
Chat:
grayangle: A most interesting tangent—I don't know, exactly. Let's see what I can make up… Quite possibly, the shot's kinetic energy could set off the reaction and 'charge' the weapon. That would make it quite dangerous, I suppose. Unfortunately the Enterprise does not keep spears on board in copious supply. Hypothetically, an unarmed torpedo would be able to be launched, but torpedoes are noticeably blunt, so the impact probably wouldn't do much damage, and the launching energy might set it off at the source, yes…hmm, I'm rambling. Will have to think about that one. Pilots tend to panic when their ships get that close (although Tom Paris is pretty good) so there aren't too many examples of kinetic battles in Star Trek.
KHnews hound: I'm writing as fast as I can…ok, maybe not, but I have to take time off to do my homework and make sure I'm in 'Star Trek' voice. And my brain will explode if I don't get a few hours/days off—and then I can't update at all. Now that I've gotten that out of my system, I'm not done with space battles…at least one more on the way, as you've probably noticed, so I'm glad you liked this one. Now I have to write something really impressive to trump it.
In Memoriam:
Michael Piller— 1948—2005