I do not own Star Trek 2009 or Supernatural

Bear with me…this chapter may be slow. It's necessary, but I'll admit there's little action - I gotta lay the groundwork. As consolation, Gabe's back! And he gets to meet Jim Kirk for the first time. Kirk who has heard the story about Cas. 0_0

Impala

Dean eyed Talbot suspiciously. "Sam, you said everything on the planet was dead?"

"Yeah."

Talbot rolled her eyes and adopted a flatly bored expression. "I have proof, it's just large and immoveable; I can't pick it up and tote it along behind me. And as you're quite aware, vids are all too easily faked." She shrugged at the sceptical Starfleet officers. "Look, you don't have to believe me."

Dean snorted. "Who the hell said anything about believing or paying you? We'll get back to you in five minutes or so. Screen off."

The crew glanced back at their captain as he furrowed his forehead, thinking intensely. Sam and Castiel waited patiently, Ash tapped hyperactive fingers on the edge of his console and Jo tried not to fidget with her knives (last time, the Impala had shifted suddenly, a knife had accidentally planted itself point down in Sam's beloved scanner console and there had been hell to pay).

"All right," Dean said slowly, "this is how it's going to go. Sam, I want you to contact Enterprise, see if Kirk will lend you Spock and go investigate that planet. Ash, I need you to helm the Impala and figure out who might have the means, opportunity and motive to pull this off. Jo and I are going with Talbot."

Sam looked like he wanted to object but held his tongue, seeing the practicality in the plan. Jo looked interested but Ash was definitely not a happy camper. Dean knew the man was a capable leader but Ash disliked the responsibility. "Just for a bit, Ash. And I think it'd be best if you got tangled up in a meteor belt or something, you know? Enough to keep the Impala incommunicado. Then you and your information minions can do the remote hacking thing without interruptions."

Sam was already plugging a request over to the Enterprise. "Spock will be expecting me. Apparently he and Sulu are stumped." Dean nodded briskly and snapped his fingers at the screen pompously.

With an exasperated eye roll, Sam flicked the screen on. "All right Talbot. What's the information you've got?" Dean demanded sharply. The confident woman smirked.

"That's the spirit. I know where the relay point is. I've never actually met my employer, but they're always waiting for me on a little space station just this side of the Neutral Zone. Of course, the Impala can't be anywhere near that area of space, so we're going to have to take my ride."

Dean finished what she hadn't said aloud. "You want to sneak onto the station, wait for them to arrive and then either hack their computer or stow away on their ship."

Talbot shrugged expressively. "It's a simple enough scheme, but generally effective. Of course, you're going to bring your big, brawny security goons to keep you safe so you should have nothing to worry about."

Jo snorted softly from the side and Dean had to squelch a quick chuckle. "We'll transport over in five. Winchester out."

"You sure you don't want to take a team of big brawny security goons?" Jo snipped, not really talking to Dean, who was still amused at the idea.

"All I need is you, darling," he replied sarcastically as Jo grinned.

"Well in that case, captain, after you."

Lugosi

The Lugosi was a clean, efficient, snappy little ship. Dean was hard put not to whistle in admiration as Jo easily cased the joint.

"Only the two of you?" Talbot's voice asked over the intercom. "Well, makes no difference to me. We're jumping to warp 7.5. Fastest private ship in the quadrant," she finished with a boast.

Jo and Dean would have been suitably impressed had Talbot not been so irritating about the whole thing. The Federation kept close tabs on the high-powered, unstable dilithium crystals that powered Starfleet ships after one too many explosions by idiots who didn't know how to use them. Still, warp 7.5? "Even Enterprise could blow by that speed without breaking a sweat and she should know that," Jo muttered.

"Don't let Kirk hear you say that. Enterprise is still the second-fastest ship in the fleet. And play nice until we're on the bridge. Talbot could vent this part of the ship if you piss her off," Dean scolded gently, heading for the lift. "Still, you have a point. It's going to be a damn long ride to the Neutral Zone."

Enterprise

"So Dean thinks the planet could provide answers," Kirk mused.

Sam shrugged. "At the very least, more data is always desirable, even if we don't understand how it fits into the picture at this point in time. If Spock, Sulu and I could investigate the planet, we might find something."

"The planet's been untainted by other investigators and skeletal vegetation should be able to tell us much more than carnivorous bugs, not to mention we still need to come up with something that will kill the little suckers," Sulu nudged.

"A shuttle would be sufficient, Captain," Spock added in his two cents.

Kirk studied the trio of intrepid scientists in front of him, trying to avoid the mental image of three excited scent-hounds, tails wagging hopefully. "All right. I suppose the three of you can look after yourselves and you make a good case. Take the Galileo. I'll expect you back in three days. Check in every twenty four hours."

The Galileo had just blipped away at warp 5 when an urgent communication came in. "Sir, Admiral Pike is sending a subspace data stream regarding a break out," Uhura reported calmly. "It seems that Gordon Walker has successfully escaped the penal colony on Pluto. It may or may not be linked to Vern's escape three months ago."

Kirk scowled. "I don't like this," he muttered. "Monster bugs, break outs from Pluto, dead planets and no one has any idea about what's actually going on. Tell Pike we're on it. Crowder, take us to warp 8. I want to track all ion trails around Pluto ASAP."

"Understood, captain." Kirk eyed Lieutenant Crowder speculatively. The kid was the second bridge crew's pilot and decent at his job, but judging from the slightly nervous quaver in his voice, Crowder wasn't exactly comfortable filling Sulu's very skilled, intimidating shoes.

Maybe letting his ace pilot scamper off to study bugs hadn't been the greatest plan.

Galileo – three hours later

"Damn," Sam swore as he surveyed the planet below. When Dean's away team had gotten off on the wrong foot with the natives, the atmosphere had been moisture-rich and warm, jungle sprawling all over the place, alive with wildlife, greenery and flowers. Yes, the place had been hazardous to anyone not paying attention (and Dean hadn't been paying attention until he was almost eaten by a giant carnivorous plant), but it hadn't been maliciously dangerous. The planet had been vibrant and healthy, the people managing their environment well. And once Sam realized that the Impala's scientists had accidentally been rooting around in the native equivalent of a graveyard and apologized profusely, the natives had been rather cordial.

Now? It was a grey-black ball of rock hanging in space. Sam peered at his screen a little closer, zooming in. He realized with a clenching twist in his gut that the black masses were moving, and moving quickly.

"Well, that planet's never going to support indigenous life again," Sulu reported bitterly. "There are definitely no sentient survivors. Atmosphere's toxic due to windstorms generated by the sudden imbalance resulting from no vegetation. Soil's being lost on a massive scale. And somehow the bugs are still alive."

"And yet we are missing something," Spock mused. "The ratio of insects to vegetation prior to the insects being introduced is off."

Sam scowled at the numbers. "You're right. The bugs could have definitely stripped the vast majority of deciduous vegetation but the tree trunks and other stronger organic material would still be present. Unless there were more insects to begin with and something has been killing the bugs."

"Negative," Spock replied absently. "Whatever would be lethal to the bugs would have evidenced itself in abnormal readings."

The transporter pad on the shuttle whirred to life and Sulu was soon poking away at a living specimen. "Commander Spock," he called and the Vulcan raised an eyebrow. "I think I've got something."

The DNA of the offending species was laid across the computer screen. By now, it was a very familiar sight but this particular specimen had a few extra additions.

"Someone filled its 'payload,'" Sulu pronounced gravely.

Lugosi

"Well, you weren't kidding about the teeny tiny space station," Dean muttered. "Looks about the size of the Impala."

Talbot stretched luxuriously in her chair, cramped after the five hour drag to their destination and very conscious of the effect she was having on a red-blooded, womanizing captain. Dean Winchester blinked, swallowed hard and tried to discreetly study his boots, wise enough in the ways of the world to recognize a woman who would eat him alive and then strip-search his poor rattling skeleton for loose change.

Jo was not nearly as impressed and it showed in her cool professionalism. "You're not setting your autopilot. Planning to skip town?"

The quasi-legal pirate smiled languidly. "Who says I'm coming? You pay me, I get out of here, you can be the heroes and head off into the unknown danger. That's what Starfleet keeps you muscle-heads around for after all, isn't it?"

Dean glanced at his security chief and shrugged.

Said security chief pulled out a very long, very wicked knife and stalked over to Talbot's chair, the sharp metal flickering through her fingers like a harmless pencil. "Sure, Starfleet keeps us muscle-heads around for that sort of stuff. But we muscle-heads, we just don't think as quickly as you. We do know enough to make you come along. We could use a clever thief like you. Of course, if you cooperated we'd be far more willing to pay you than if we had to clap you in binders."

There was an awkward pause in which Dean crossed his arms and looked very sexist, enjoying the standoff between powerful women.

His amused chuckle broke the tension as the women turned their disdaining eyes on the captain. "I'm raising my price," Talbot stated calmly.

"Understood," Jo replied just as easily. "Hazard pay. I'm aware that working with him lowers your IQ level, you should be compensated. Park this thing somewhere it won't be found. We're on a tight schedule."

"Hey, captain here!" Dean protested.

They ignored him.

Getting aboard the space station and hiding themselves had been the easy part. Waiting for someone to show up was the hard part. Surprisingly, Jo found herself to be the fidgety one. Dean could sit in one position for hours with all the calm patience of a hunter and clearly Talbot was used to being on the run, blending into grey shadowy corners, still as a predatory spider.

Jo squatted where the captain had placed her, hands firmly jammed in her pockets to keep shiny knives out of sight while Dean and Talbot messed with the scanners of the station so that none of their bio-signs would register.

The whirr of the transporter had Jo ducking down as Dean calmly stuck his head around the corner. "Your contact?" he asked Talbot unnecessarily.

"Definitely. And he tried to skimp on my price after we struck a deal, cheap bastard," she sniffed. "That was the first warning that the job wasn't all that it seemed."

"Honour among thieves?" Dean asked in amusement as he took a closer look. Talbot breathed a short laugh but didn't reply.

The newcomers were not quite at Federation-standard when it came to technology and clearly new to illegal interstellar dealings, judging from their unguarded talk. They were definitely Talbot's employers and they hadn't used a go-between to ensure their anonymity like any half-decent crime lord running illegal Romulan ale. At the same time, these goons were thinking clearly, carried their rather nice phaser rifles with proficiency and if Dean was right, they were Federation-independent.

Great. Fundamentalists.

Enterprise

SIO Gabriel was seriously regretting that decision he had made as a rash teenager, the one where he left Cas crying at the orphanage. Sure, he thought he'd been doing the right thing at the time (actually, he hadn't reconsidered the choice in years until he met his little brother again), but it had seriously come back to bite him in the ass.

You see, two of the Federation's most effective, efficient ships despised his guts just on principle. Unfortunately a lot of spies were paranoid about their identities getting out and refused to work in a fishbowl of a space ship. Gabriel had been tapped once more and when he complained, they threatened to bust him back down to training officer.

He thought working with the Enterprise couldn't have possibly been worse than that. Clearly he was still naive, because while Gabriel found Jim Kirk impressive, strong-willed, charismatic and definitely competent, the captain was also efficiently freezing out the intelligence officer and possibly considering several highly illegal acts of torture.

It was making Gabriel's job very awkward.

"Look, I know you all think I'm the scum of the earth," Gabriel finally blurted in exasperation, suffocating in the sub-zero atmosphere and clinging to a fast dwindling hope that the pretty communications officer would let him escape with his masculinity intact, "but can we stop mentally dissecting the intelligence officer and focus on the escaped prisoner?"

Captain Kirk smiled sweetly. "Sure."

Gabriel made a mental note not to walk past any airlocks on the Enterprise. Or any photon tubes.

"We don't know why they broke Walker out. The man's a low-level spy with a few decent connections. Clearly they don't need him for Starfleet infiltration, they can't possibly dream of using him at all. His face has been entered in every known database within the Federation. So why Walker?" Gabriel breathed in relief as the intense Enterprise officers turned their considerable talents to the problem at hand.

"Walker's loyal," Kirk noted. "Tested and true. Wouldn't spill his guts even in prison. So maybe they just need another patsy. Finding a clear-thinking radical willing to do anything is hard. Usually they're overly-emotional idiots all too willing to die for the cause. Chekov, how close are we to tracking his shuttle?"

The Russian shook his head. "Keptin, I need more information. Ve have no vay of knowing vhich wessel he took and the traffic near Pluto is surprisingly dense. At this point in time, ve have five trails to follow and tree of dem vill dissipate vithin six hours."

Kirk pursed his lips. "Any way of getting a few other ships to track down the other trails?"

"I am afraid not, keptin. Only science wessels and deConstitution class ships hev de sensor capacity to follow de trail. Science wessels are not interested in Pluto and de other Constitutions are out in deep space." Chekov shrugged apologetically.

"SIO. Can you get us any more info?" Kirk demanded brusquely. Gabriel tapped away at his PADD, cursed and then punched in a few threats to his contacts.

"Not good," he finally reported and the Enterprise crew glowered at him. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger! There's someone at the top blocking me. Like, way at the top. Far enough that you will probably never get a warrant to even tap their most outlying resources."

Dr. McCoy jumped in before Kirk could open his mouth. "Not yet, Jim. We're not sure what's going on and if you sic Chekov on these individuals, it could end badly."

Gabriel blinked. "Whoa, no hacking! This security is way out of your league, kid!"

Several soft snorts around the table accompanied Chekov's smug smirk. "I hev not yet met a code I cannot hack. Perhaps you hev heard of de Circular Wirus? It vas inwented in Russia." He settled back in his seat. "However keptin, I do agree vith Dr. McCoy. I vill gladly hack dat code if you ask it of me, but I cannot guarantee dat they vill not track it back to Enterprise and I vill most likely need her supercomputers to accomplish anythink. If dey get an attack into dose, ve vill be wery, wery dead in space."

Gabriel was impressed. This kid had written the virus that tied Starfleet in knots for a week? Damn. He was pulled back to the discussion when Kirk scowled, drumming a hand on the table, clearly thinking from one of his insane, freaky perspectives. "Scotty," the captain finally began slowly, "do you think you and Chekov could program probes to track the trails?"

Heads swivelled towards the fiery engineer, who looked thoughtful. "Aye, I do believe we could, hey laddie?"

Chekov scribbled away madly at his PADD. "Preliminary indications are decent. I believe ve could have it up and running in tree hours." He looked up at the captain with a sparkly smile. "Keptin?"

Kirk shoved back from the ready room table. "Do it. In the meantime, SIO Gabriel, you get to come with me. We get to track down a little escaped lamb and ask him why he ran away from us and what his owners want with him."

And in the face of Captain James T. Kirk's madcap grin, the spy known among his rivals for his cold, clinical approach felt more than a little shiver of excitement skip down his spine.

This was going to be fun.