A/N: So I am in the process of moving. Updates won't be regular until things get settled. I will try to update as often as possible, but I make no promises. Cheers!
Chapter 54- Planetside
"This is humiliating." Sylar scoffed as he assembled with the others in the shuttle bay.
"That may be," Jim declared placing his hands on his hips with a stern look just to let everyone know that he was indeed still the boss, "but it is for your own safety. You met the Klingons, Sylar, you know what they are like. Now imagine an entire planet full of them."
"I think I handled myself pretty well." He challenged with just a hint of a self satisfied smirk.
"Aye, if ya consider murder a bloody good solution to your problems." Scotty mumbled. Sylar heard him and glared in his general direction.
"It's only until we can get back to the ship." Noah tried to console. "And I think it's a pretty good idea since most of us have no idea what we are getting into and we need to stay incognito." He drug out the last word just to emphasize his point and it was clear he expected full cooperation.
"I'm cool with it." Peter shrugged. Ever the boy scout, Sylar thought to himself. He didn't give a damn if he read his mind or not.
"So, here we go." Jim sighed looking at the PADD he had stolen from Chekov when he had his brilliant idea. "Here are your assignments. Stick with your handler at all times like your life depends on it because it just might. Sulu-Ando, Chekov-Hiro, Uhura-Claire, McCoy-Suresh, Scotty-Matt, Noah you're with me and Spock you get Sylar."
"Of course." Sylar nodded slowly. "I get picked last for the kickball team."
"We don't have enough officers to go around." Jim continued undeterred. "Peter, why don't you hang out with McCoy and Dr. Suresh, and Nathan, you can go with…" he frowned at his PADD trying to find a suitable pairing for his personality, "Scotty and Matt." The awful truth was, there really wasn't anyone who complemented his personality in his estimation. It was like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. But if anyone could defy the laws of mechanics it was Scotty.
"Suits me." Peter smiled.
Jim didn't have to worry about where Peter went- he could have got along with anybody. Nathan looked a little less pleased with his situation, but really it was Spock he was worried about. He certainly would have his hands full with Sylar, but he and Noah agreed beforehand that if anyone could keep a leash on him it would be Spock. He had managed the impossible before and although they didn't fully understand why Sylar seemed to have a mutual respect for the Vulcan when no one else's opinion mattered, it was plain he did and they would use it to their advantage. He, perhaps most of all, would have to be kept in check. Not because Jim thought he was a loose cannon- if anything he was the cautiously calculating machine Noah said he was- but he also saw firsthand on the Klingon ship that he thought nothing of using his powers to his advantage with devastating effect if he was threatened and this was an all too likely possibility. Hopefully Spock could talk some sense into him and keep him out of harm's way. That was a tall order considering he would probably be a target of fame himself for being a Vulcan- a rare thing to see these days- a human/Vulcan hybrid to be exact which was something of a white buffalo in and of itself, and then there was the whole Narada thing. Jim chuckled as he took in his stoic first officer. What would he do if one of them asked for his autograph? He could just see him surrounded by a throng of teenage Klingon girls shoving bits of paper at him to sign while they screamed…or growled…whatever the appropriate fangirl sound was for them. Spock the reluctant rock star…
"There is one more thing." Noah announced. "We are apparently going to have a short meet & greet with a Klingon delegation. It is vitally important that none of you open your mouths and give us away as being anything other than visitors from this time. Just play your cards close to the vest and keep cool. I understand their culture can be a little…different…from anything we have seen before. Just do what your handler does- follow their lead."
"Damn!" Matt declared. "And I was planning on planting a big wet one on that washboard forehead of theirs."
Sulu scoffed. "It would be the last thing you ever did."
Once the shuttle arrived, everyone piled in for the last trip to the surface. Sylar purposely took a seat next to Claire just to unnerve her, but pretended the circumstance was pure coincidence as he always did because in fact she couldn't prove he meant to intimidate her. And as he could attest to, in his line of work it was all in what you could prove- which was mainly how he managed to evade the consequences of his actions thus far. Sure everyone knew he killed people, but no one could produce any evidence that would stand up in court and that was the way he liked it. Peter sat across from him to keep him in check. The unsettled expression on his face made it clear he knew what the killer was up to and he wouldn't hesitate to throw down right there on the shuttle if he had to. Admittedly it did put a bit of a damper on Sylar's fun, but he almost took more pleasure in clandestine tactics to harass than the boorish straightforward approach anyway.
Mohinder struggled to correctly strap himself into the seat until McCoy sighed and straightened the tangled harness for him and buckled him up before the ship took off and the geneticist found himself plastered on the floor of the craft from the incredible g-force of the thrusters. That was one mess he didn't want to deal with, so he felt being proactive was the best course seeing as how he was going to be joined at the hip with him and Peter for the foreseeable future. It would look bad if his charge died before the shuttle even left the ship. Jim would never let him hear the end of it and no amount of genuine old world whiskey would shut him up either.
"Thank you." Mohinder smiled gratefully. "I suppose it shouldn't be that hard. I can figure out the bits that make a human unique, but I can't seem to tie my own shoes as it were."
"Don't be so hard on yourself." McCoy grumbled as he fastened his own restraints. "It's your first time on one of these deathtraps."
"Deathtraps?" Matt asked over his shoulder to the seats behind him. "You mean these things aren't safe?"
"They are very safe." Jim answered in an exasperated tone. "He just hates flying. Just ignore him until you get to the surface."
McCoy grumbled something approximating a curse with an extreme southern drawl and squinted hard at the Captain. "Don't fool yourself, kid. Sooner or later one of these things will have a catastrophic failure and your brain'll cook in your skull like a Thanksgiving turkey in its own gravy. Then come tell me all about how safe these things are."
Jim's eyes twinkled with laughter as he shook his head. "You'll be right there with me, Bones."
McCoy's expression grew somber until he finally mumbled, "Damn right."
Peter listened to the whole exchange and thought back to when he first met the doctor and Jim's instructions: 'Ignore any profanities or loud noises you may hear, we are friends I swear.' He didn't need Sylar's lie detecting abilities to note the sincerity in the doctor's voice. It was clear to him that despite their apparent differences, there was nothing they wouldn't do for each other and he faintly smiled. It was nice to know that someone had your back like that. Even for all of his flaws, Nathan was that person for him and he hoped he could return the favor. In truth, he desired to be that person to as many people as possible. Everyone deserved the comfort that came from knowing there was at least one person in the world who gave a damn about them. He instinctively glanced up at Sylar who was sitting placidly with his hands in his lap looking at a nondescript spot in the near distance. His expression was intense as though he were concentrating and although Peter was tempted to read his thoughts, he decided it was a violation of his privacy- and he was afraid of what he might find. Whatever was going on in his head, he was fairly sure it was something dark.
The feeling of flying in space was something that Hiro was both exhilarated and slightly anxious about. He had never been in space before- at least in such a small shuttle. Being on the ship felt like being on Earth. He pressed his face against the small porthole window by his seat and looked out at the vast field of pinpoint lights that were scattered throughout. He caught sight of the wording on the side of the ship in big, black script "USS Enterprise" as he passed over it slowly and he smiled as he softly sang "Ground control to Major Tom" in Japanese. Ando looked over at him and grinned as he bobbed his head to get a good look. Hiro hadn't been that excited since he met his childhood hero Takezo Kensei. That turned out to be a bit of a letdown, but this was something special. Sure he could bend time and space, but he never imagined he would be actually flying in it like an astronaut!
Nathan, having the terrible luck of getting a middle seat and thus no view, sat quietly and surveyed the interior of the shuttle while he chewed his lip in boredom. He told himself that he should be in awe like everyone else, but he just couldn't bring himself to be excited to meet honest to god aliens. He already had the pleasure of meeting Romulans, if you could call such a thing a pleasure, so he sure as hell wasn't eager to meet another race that was rumored to be twice as bad. He swore he could feel his hair turning grey from the stress of keeping an eye on Peter. Even though there was no reason to think he would get into trouble, somehow he always did. It was like coating yourself in honey and rolling in a fire ant hill with the expectation of not getting stung. He loved Peter, but damn it if his little brother wasn't going to be the death of him. As he sat staring at Chekov's boots across from him, he began to wonder if it just wouldn't have been better for all involved if he would have been killed at the cantina in Mexico. He was getting too old be drug across the universe mixing with hostile aliens. What would his constituents think? This was one story that would be tougher to explain than his ability to fly. At any rate, he was certain it wouldn't play well in the polls. At least he took comfort in knowing that he could spin it in his favor if some tabloid reporter was asinine enough to break the story. How many people would believe it? For once he could deny the truth without having to be convincing- the public would never buy it. Plausible deniability, baby.
Noah shifted uneasily in his seat. His mind raced with contingency plans for the possibility of having their cover blown. If it were just himself, he wouldn't have been worried because he was certain he could pull it off without a hitch. But the others weren't trained in cloak and dagger stuff the way he was and it was very possible that one of them would slip up because it was only natural for them to just be themselves. His money was on Mohinder to blow it for them, but he tried to keep an open mind as to who the culprit would be. He shifted again and noted the way he felt incomplete: the weight of his gun was not at his hip as it always was and it felt unnatural. Jim convinced him to leave it onboard because nothing shouted old school than an actual gun- it was likely to draw more attention than a parade of tribbles. Noah had no idea what the hell a tribble was, but he did get the distinct impression that Klingons were not fond of them, so he reluctantly left it behind.
The shuttle landed with a gentle rocking motion and the occupants were greeted by a delegation of mean looking warriors. As instructed, the evolved humans stood slightly behind their partners and admirably kept their collective mouths shut while Kirk handled the formalities of refuge seeking without seeming like too much of a chicken in the process. Weakness in the eyes of the Klingons was to be avoided at all costs. Although Noah was nervous about Sylar being front and center as he was attached at the hip to Spock, he played it cool and managed to blend in fairly well. In fact, the Klingons seemed to be intrigued by him and he hoped it was in a good way. Peter knew for a fact it was: they were taken by the hardened dark eyes the same way Koth was and he tried not to sigh or shake his head. Matt glanced back at him and smirked because he too was listening to their thoughts. Peter felt a slight tingle as a thought pushed its way gently into his mind. "If they love him that much, they can keep him!" Peter lowered his head and bit his lip to stifle a smile.
Claire tried to look brave as she stood close to Uhura, but in truth she didn't understand half of what was said. The Klingons were speaking in a mash of English and some other language that was harsh like sandpaper on her ears. They looked so angry, but she didn't know why. Uhura didn't look at all disturbed so she assumed she was in no immediate danger- not that she really was anyway. They could hack her to bits and she would be fine. But that was the kind of thing she was trying to avoid, so she looked straight ahead with a neutral expression just as Uhura was and hoped for the best.
After Jim successfully navigated the elaborate customs of the greeting process, the delegation left and he turned to his charges. "We are being permitted to stay only as long as it takes for them to defeat the Romulans and our ship is repaired. If the ship is destroyed, we have to hang out here until the Federation can pick us up, but we will be on our own."
"What does that mean, exactly?" Nathan asked suspiciously.
"It means we're bloody SOL's what it means!" Scotty huffed.
Spock looked coolly at the flustered engineer. "More precisely it means that the Klingons are not bound by the rules of the Federation to render aid to fellow members and their hospitality is not equitable with our standards. We would be expected to secure our own shelter and food without assistance."
"So, we should keep an eye out for stray animals and a nice, cozy cave to live in." Matt summed up. "Got it."
"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." Jim smiled. "In the meantime, against my better judgment, I accepted an invitation from the High Council for an evening of drinks and entertainment. This can get dicey, folks, so keep on your toes and DO NOT do anything to draw attention to yourselves. With any luck this will all be over in a few hours and we can get back to the ship."
As the group followed Jim through the twisting streets Ando quietly asked, "What kind of drinks and entertainment can we expect from people like this?"
"I don't know." Mohinder chuckled. "But I bet we are in for a wild ride."