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Enterprise

"Fire! Sulu, evasive maneuvers, don't let them get away!"

Enterprise sailed into battle with deadly efficiency as the Impala danced about space like an irritated vengeful faerie of myth. The two ships worked beautifully in tandem.

Still, they were outnumbered three to one and these were not the clumsy Romulans left behind to defend an empty house. These were bloodthirsty, Federation-hungry warriors, experienced in battle and it showed. They blinked in and out of cloak, dishing back as good as they got.

"Shields dropping, keptin! Ve can't take much more of this!"

"Open a channel directly to Pike's communicator! Sir, you have got to get us reinforcements or we are going to lose the Impala and probably the Enterprise as well!"

"Captain, we're being hailed by the Romulans!"

The frenzied insanity of battle paused for a brief second. "On screen."

"Captain James Tiberius Kirk of the Federation starship Enterprise," Commander Vern drawled and Kirk had to suppress a strong urge to flip him the bird, "surrender now and I will spare your ship. The Impala, regrettably, has refused my generous offer and will serve as an example to you and the entire Federation."

In one of those rare moments where everyone on the bridge could practically read each other's minds, Sulu whirled to look at his captain, who nodded briefly. "And what happens if we do surrender?" Kirk asked, nervously playing with his sleeves and doing his best to appear the milk-blooded Federation dog the Romulan rebels believed him to be.

Meanwhile, the Enterprise sidled carefully between the Impala and their foes, Sulu gently nudging the great ship over until her stronger shields could take the brunt of a future strike.

"You and your command crew submit to me as my slaves. There will be no other alternative." And then in nauseating detail, the commander began the inevitable villain's monologue. Kirk could barely keep from rolling his eyes in exasperation. But hey, if the commander wanted to give them time to get ready to kick his ass, Kirk could stand a little evil propaganda.

Chekov flashed his captain a subtle thumbs up, keeping an admirable poker face. Shields back at maximum, phasers online, engines as ready as they'd ever be, Impala covered.

Fantastic.

Kirk's whole posture changed as he stood, sharp-eyed and ready to strike. Interrupting Vern mid-diatribe, Captain Kirk strode around to stand directly in front of the screen. "Commander Vern. We appreciate your most gracious offer of enslavement, degradation and death. However, it is our duty, right and privilege to disintegrate you into space dust should you decide against immediately turning yourself into the appropriate Romulan authorities."

Commander Vern scoffed. "You are outnumbered and out-gunned."

Kirk raised a scornful eyebrow. "That's what they said when we faced off against the Narada. Everybody knows how that ended. Your decision?"

"Go to hell, Kirk."

Impala

His poor girl. Abused, battered and beaten, she was still holding up.

"Dean, if we take another hit like that we're going to lose hull integrity!" Bobby shouted from Engineering.

Shit.

Then the Romulans stopped firing. "They're communicating with Enterprise," Sam reported, "but using a channel I don't have time to hack." If Dean understood half of what Sam was yelling at Bobby over the comm, his brother was remotely re-wiring half of the ship to try and reroute power.

And suddenly a big white nacelle slipped slowly into their line of view. "Kirk what the…no way. That's just insulting." The Enterprise was going to take the hits for them. Still, they couldn't really argue against the action, not when Bobby was worried about the hull, their shields were sputtering at 3% and phasers inoperable.

"Get Pike up here," Dean ordered. "Ready the shuttle-that-could. Cas, you are going to take the ambassadors and Pike back to earth."

Castiel acknowledged but looked decidedly unhappy about it.

Pike rolled onto the bridge a minute later. "You're going back to Earth," Dean told him. "I can't spare anyone other than Cas, so you're going to have to navigate. Sir, you can't fight me on this. Those ambassadors need to survive. You're an admiral and a popular one at that. You end up dead, the Federation will demand reparation and this whole conflict won't end."

Admiral Christopher Pike hated himself at that moment in time. He had never once run from a battle without first engaging to the best of his abilities. Suddenly being admiral seemed like a ridiculous proposition.

Yet arguing with the stony-eyed captain in front of him would be an insult to Dean Winchester's expertise and courage. "Very well," he acquiesced. "Lieutenant Castiel, shall we?"

Castiel stiffly marched towards the elevator. "Cas!" Dean called over his shoulder. "I'm entrusting you with these five lives. Get them home and we'll catch up with you, I promise."

"Promise, Captain?"

"I swear. I will bring the Impala and her crew home to Earth alive."

Castiel swallowed hard and pushed the elevator button as Dean moved from captain's chair to piloting console. "Ash, get your genius ass down to Engineering and help Bobby. Sam, I need you."

The bridge crew shuffled into the effective but unusual configuration. The brothers could work together with more precision than most computers. Ash's off-the-wall thinking had saved the warp cores on more than one occasion.

All they had to do was wait.

When the battle rejoined, Castiel took the opportunity to blast his little shuttle out of the bay and broke to warp so fast the Impala's shields rocked in the wake of the disruption.

The one thing Dean did better than Castiel was pilot like an old-fashioned WWII dogfighter. Castiel could fly the ship more efficiently, complete long journeys faster, dock more safely (Dean was never going to live down the parallel parking incident). But when it came to flying in combat, Dean Winchester flew like he fought – born to it.

And Sam's weapons officer skills were unparalleled. Again, Ash was the premiere navigator, possibly better at utilizing the shields efficiently. But Sam could singe the fly off a ship's hull with the main phaser and not break a sweat.

The Impala roared into battle under the strong hand of her captain, her phasers roaring with renewed fury, skipping out from under the Enterprise's protective shields.

She was kicking ass and taking names today.

Enterprise

"Kirk," Dean greeted over the comm.

"Winchester," he replied with a small grin as sparks flew around him and the ship quivered underneath his feet.

"In shit yet?"

"Dunno. Aren't you supposed to be captain? Why the hell are you flying the damn ship?"

"Cas took Pike and the stiffs back to Earth."

"They're safe?"

"As far as Sam can tell."

Said individual swore colourfully and banged on something off screen, electricity crackling across the connection. "Sam, you kill this connection with your weirdo experiments and I will deep-space your coffee chip!" Sam's reply was nonverbal and very rude, which made Dean laugh. "So. When's Vern going to drop the hammer?"

"Don't know, but Spock estimates it'll take the bastard another hour to get his weapons up. Got an ETA on your impulse engines?"

"Fried. No going back. Yours?"

"Scotty says he'll beat Vern. Spock says another four hours."

"Well shit."

"Hey, dude, we beat five Romulan warbirds between the two of us. We are badass. Whoever was shooting during that last go around – I want them on the Enterprise. You were warned."

"You can't have Sam. Ever. Your transporter operational?"

"Spock's working on it. It's one of those make or break things. If he gets it fixed, it'll be up in fifteen. If he doesn't get it fixed, there won't be another try. He's on his last conduit. When he does get it working, wanna go Romulan-hunting with us?"

"Dude, yes."

There was a pause. Being captain sucked. You had to sit on the bridge and make sure the enemy didn't do anything screwy while the rest of your crew worked themselves to the bone trying to fix the mess. Kirk had already offered his help to Engineering, gotten kicked out of sickbay and tried to help the engineering ensigns fix the bridge. They had gotten Spock to order him back into the captain's chair. He imagined Dean was in the same boat.

"Hey, wanna play I-Spy again?"

Twenty minutes later…

Dean and his away team materialized on the Enterprise's transporter pad. "Clearly Mr. Spock is a genius," he said by way of greeting.

"Naturally," Kirk responded. "All right people, listen up! The captains are going to head straight for the rotting toad known as Vern. Make sure we get there alive. That's the plan. Any questions? Good. Shove over, we're doing this in one shot." Had the Admiralty heard such a sparse plan, they would have had Kirk committed. Kirk knew though, that their men were good enough to fill in the details and time was of the essence.

With that in mind, the Enterprise's away team crowded up onto the platform. Twenty two men between the two ships. Any more would slow down the strike and make it inefficient.

"Scotty, ready?"

"Aye capt'n. We'll hold the fort here, sair. Engines will be online if it kills me."

"Good luck. Energize."

Rebel Romulan Warbird

"Well, he didn't drop us in the arms yard again," Dean muttered as they ducked down behind a wall of pipes in a deserted engineering section. A weird, warbling alarm kept whooping through the air accompanied by harsh Romulan commands.

"Spock?" Kirk asked for a translation, gesturing to the speaker.

"The weapons and shields are still inoperable. They are looking for intruders."

"All right people, you heard the man. Let's move but keep an eye out for the enemy."

Splitting into their respective crews, the two teams slipped through the dark, hot bowels of the Romulan ship.

Commander Jo Harvelle was practically humming with anticipation. She and her security crews had been helping out all day but security officers often felt incredibly useless during a space battle. They would fill mundane, non-specialized clean up positions or simply sit decked out in battle gear on standby in case of invaders.

Now she was on the prowl, on point actually, since Sam refused to put Dean at the head and threatened to sit on his brother unless Dean let Jo do her job.

Moving smoothly and silently, the Impala crew didn't really run into trouble until they emerged on the upper levels. Lurking in a doorway, they watched several Romulans dashing back and forth.

"Captain, we'll break through. You and Sam keep going, don't look back, don't get bogged down. Someone has to take the commander," Jo whispered. She and her men came out firing as Sam and Dean slipped through.

Kirk and crew

For someone who hated phasers, McCoy certainly was a very good shot. Of course if Kirk ever told him that, Bones would never touch one again. Then he couldn't come on away missions and life would get difficult for Kirk, who relied on the older man's steady advice and blunt honesty.

Which was neither here nor there, Kirk mused as he ducked a disruptor shot. McCoy waved him through and Kirk darted across the corridor. "I bet Winchester got the easy side," Kirk panted and McCoy grunted, calmly dropping a Romulan bearing down on a rather flustered young ensign.

"Take the hobgoblin and get up to the bridge. If Vern decided he wants to do anything stupid like a self-destruct, you'd better be up there ASAP." Kirk tried to protest but Cupcake (what's-his-name, Gotto, Giotto…eh, who cared, Cupcake fit far better) agreed.

"Sir, you've gotta go. Now."

Kirk glanced over at the Romulans. "Fine. But neither of you is allowed to die, got it?"

Cupcake nodded seriously while McCoy rolled his eyes. "Spock, get him out of here."

Romulan warbird bridge

Kirk and Dean literally bumped into each other in the mad scramble for the bridge door. "Left," Kirk muttered and Dean nodded, motioning Sam right.

They stormed the bridge, accurate phaser fire laying out the majority of their opponents. Dean staggered Commander Vern with a vicious right cross, snapping the Romulan's head sideways and throwing him off enough to allow a brutal kidney punch in. When the Romulan staggered, Dean finished the job with a thunderous uppercut.

Romulan physique or no, Vern dropped like a rock.

Shaking out a fist that was probably suffering a few cracked bones, Dean Winchester stood triumphantly over his vanquished foe.

"That was for the Impala, bitch."