I do not own Star Trek 2009 or Supernatural.

There may or may not be a ninja third cross-over in this chapter. :D

Galileo

"You have got to be kidding me."

Sam slumped until his forehead landed against the console with an audible thump.

Sulu wasn't much better, rubbing blearily at sand-filled eyes.

And Spock sat in front of his screen like a statue, eyes alone darting around the computer screen like it was going to give up its secrets eventually if he stared hard enough. "It appears that Alice Gain is an exceptional scientist, if an immoral and cruel individual," the Vulcan admitted reluctantly.

"It's like she mixed genetic engineering with computer code to create this indestructible bug," Sam said to the console, eyes closed.

Sulu groaned and checked his chronometer. "We have to check in with the Enterprise again in an hour and Captain Kirk says we're not allowed to stay now that they've got a bead on Walker."

Sam thought about moving but couldn't muster the effort. They'd been there for two days now and still hadn't gotten any closer to a solution. "At this rate, we're going to have to turn this over to the Earth-based Starfleet scientists and if they crack it they will be gloating for months."

All three scientists glanced at each other, Sam crooking his neck around to meet their gazes. "Never mind that they'll have had all the time and resources in the world to solve the problem, they'll just see that they've beaten us and should receive the Nobel Prize and a commendation from the new Vulcan Science Academy. Petty, desk-flying bastards."

Sulu was staring out at the planet when the shuttle's sensors beeped at him. Lazily glancing over and expecting their scheduled update from the planet below, he bolted up straight in his chair and flash-typed a long string of commands into the computer, the shuttle immediately shrinking back behind the planet's moon.

"Sulu?" Sam asked, suddenly bright-eyed.

"We've got company and it's not looking friendly," Sulu replied as Spock settled into the co-pilot's seat.

Sure enough, the small ship was an older model, battered around the edges and streaked with carbon scarring from battle. "That's the most generic star ship I've ever seen, complete with some very nice falsified credentials," Sam commented idly, tweaking the sensors in an attempt to pick up more information even as he probed the ship's license. "It's almost like they don't want to be identified."

"The culprits who released the bug?" Sulu proposed.

"Perhaps," Spock interjected, "and it seems they are scanning the planet."

Sam cracked his knuckles and proceeded to hack into the unknown ship's intercom system.

The hack fell into place just in time to hear that "…the final test was a success. We can implement Plan Omega as soon as Starc returns from the station."

A second voice suddenly broke in. "Sir, we've been hacked!"

"Shit!" Sam yelped and back-pedaled. He knew it had been a risk but figured it one worth taking. "Sulu, get ready to run for it!"

"Run where?" the pilot demanded sharply. "We're in a shuttle that tops out at warp 6 max!"

Spock wordlessly dove into the guts of the shuttle, sparks sheering off onto the floor as the Vulcan rewired, flicked switches and squashed connectors with inhuman strength. "Mr. Sulu, you should find our maximum speed has increased but you will have to fly prudently. I have unfortunately compromised the coolant system and life support."

Sam yanked his headset from his ear. "We're busted and in one minute twenty three seconds, they will have made our position!"

Sulu growled and the shuttle made a break for it. "Sitting here will just get us killed then." Jumping to warp was the work of an instant but they didn't dare relax once at top speed. The boosted shuttle would leave an ion trail wider than a Southern belle at a debutante ball.

"So where are we going?" Sam asked after a silent minute.

Spock checked their heading. "The only planet we can reach before the shuttle explodes is PC-3241."

Sam groaned. "Omala? Come on, I haven't done anything to piss off the universe lately! I'm not even running with Dean at the moment!"

"What's wrong with that planet?" Sulu asked, piloting deftly even as he shot a depressed Sam a curious look.

"It makes the Wild West look tame," the Impala officer said absent-mindedly, his black mood evaporating rather quickly as he examined the problem from another angle. "Actually, it's not a bad idea. We can buy a ship and book it back to the closest Starfleet base with the research we've dug up." He glanced at his two friends. "But first we're going to have to make you two look far less respectable."

Spock raised an eyebrow, silently asking several thousand questions.

Sam just bounced his eyebrows in amusement and started digging through his bag.

Sulu stared wide-eyed for a long minute in the broiling hot sun, feet firmly rooted to the ground as people flowed around him until Sam smacked the back of his head. "Come on, quit gawking or you're going to get us all killed. Literally."

The tall Winchester had displayed several unnerving negotiating, bribery and bullshitting skills when it came time to convince Omala's star ship control to let the Enterprise shuttle land. Strangely enough, he was also the only one who had thought to pack a smuggler's outfit in his luggage. When Sulu had stared in disbelief, Sam had shrugged. "You've met Dean. Imagine tearing around the galaxy with him and tell me you wouldn't end up prepared."

Prepared was one thing, Sulu thought in amusement. And then there was Sam Winchester paranoid, which seemed to involve packing false identification, generic non-traceable credits, big boots, tough black cargo pants, and a very long plasti-leather duster that looked like something straight out of an old Western, complete with a long-barrelled, probably illegal phaser tied down to his right leg.

The planet's landing grounds were dusty, dirty and teeming with people shouting at each other, all pushing and shoving. Star ships landed and took off with alarming frequency and irregularity as vendors hawked their wares right near the exhaust ports of still-ticking ships, waifs and pickpockets running rampant. In short, it was the complete opposite of the organized efficiency Sulu was used to and he pressed his face up to the Galileo's view screen to watch everything swirl around the shuttle.

Spock hadn't said anything as Sam came back with a sack full of slightly smelly clothing and the news that he had sold the shuttle.

"You sold the Galileo?" Sulu had squawked as Sam fried the computers and sensors with phaser fire, making it look as if pirates or smugglers had taken the shuttle in a fight.

"Scrapped her, actually. She'll be in pieces by sundown. Which is good, because if anyone figures out we're really Starfleet, our lives won't be worth a tinker's song."

To Sulu's surprise, Spock had quietly changed into the black leather outfit Sam had provided and mussed up his impeccable bowl cut without complaint. "If previous experience is anything to judge by," the Vulcan grunted as he pulled on his boots, "I have learned that the crew members of the Impala are uniquely equipped for this particular situation."

So that was how Sulu found himself dressed like an outlaw and trying not to gape like a tourist spotting the Golden Gate Bridge for the first time as Sam yanked him through the crowds like an errant child. "Where are we going?" the Japanese-American pilot asked in curiosity, feeling like he'd just fallen into some kind of time machine.

Sam shrugged, making full use of his height. "Don't know. Tell me if you see a fast ship." By that point, Sulu had gotten over his shock and was glancing around with excitement. This was beyond Federation control. Starfleet had bigger fish to fry, ignoring such dust ball planets and this was where the fringes of society were found.

He spotted several vendors hawking "genuine Romulan ale," dilithium crystals, Klingon ears (Sulu did not want to know) and various other illegal, faked items. People pushed, shoved and bumped, shouting and chattering at the top of their lungs.

Someone shoved him rudely from behind and Sulu stumbled into Spock, who caught him easily. "Hey, he pushed me!" a coarse, drunken voice broke the crowd and Sulu turned to spot the big fat owner of the voice pointing a stubby finger at the pilot. Sam turned with a hard glare as Sulu scowled and Spock toyed with his knife handle.

The troublemaker paled and moved off, mumbling about Sulu minding his manners.

"We aren't in Kansas anymore," Sulu muttered and Sam grinned.

Spock was confused. "We have not been in Kansas recently, Mr. Sulu."

Sulu dropped the conversation as he spotted a ship. "That one, Sam. That's the only ship I've seen so far that has the specs we need."

Sam checked out the dilapidated star ship. "It looks like some sort of bloated insect on death's door, Hikaru. Are you sure?" Sulu nodded. Sam shrugged. "Let's just hope it's for sale."

As it turned out, the ship wasn't for sale.

It was a charter, the captain snapped brusquely, and a mostly legal one at that as they stood at an outdoor café, haggling like fishwives over price.

"Fly us to Starbase 3 and we'll make it worth your while," Sam offered in counterpoint. "We need to be there sometime today and our own ship won't make it off the planet."

The tall captain with his wild shock of dark brown hair and sharp eyes stared in no small disbelief. "You want me to pull right up to Starbase 3, under the nose of Starfleet itself and drop you off there?"

"Indeed," Spock intoned with finality and the captain blinked, making a rather astute connection.

"You're no Romulan, despite what your ears say."

Sam's friendly face hardened around the edges. "Right now we're just three independent traders looking to get to Starbase 3. Am I right in assuming you usually don't want to know anything more than that?"

The captain scowled. "You're right, I don't want to know and I seriously doubt you can pay me enough to take you."

Sam thumped the case of credits down on the dingy café table. This captain seemed like a decent sort if Sam's read on the man was right and so far Spock actually seemed to like him. The credits seemed to help.

"Who the hell are you?"

Sam Winchester's angelic grin paired up beautifully with his reply. "We're just your average intergalactic heroes."

The captain blinked and shrugged. "Good enough for me."

Enterprise

"Where the hell did the Galileo go?" Kirk muttered irritably and tried not to glare at Spock's 2IC. The man may have served on the Impala and was better than most at ignoring annoyed captains, but there was no need to vent on the scientist.

"They haven't been destroyed ser," Chekov reported optimistically. "Dere is a wery large ion trail leading away to PC-3241 consistent vith shuttle core overload."

"Something Sam and Spock would try if they were being pursued. Omala's also somewhere Sam would go to the ground if he had important information and a failing ship. Enterprise showing up in orbit would just spook everyone. All right. Sam, Spock and Sulu are more than capable of looking after themselves. I'm confident they'll turn up in one piece sooner or later. In the meantime, we have an escaped prisoner to catch. Chekov, you've still got eyes on that space station?"

"Aye keptin. Ve can be there in four hours at varp 7."

"All right. Warp seven, Mr. Crowder."

The other trails had petered out – an ore trader, a prison transport heading to another prison planet without incident, etc. So now Gabriel was sitting in the rec room, diligently digging through prison data looking for some sort of hint that Walker had been communicating with someone outside the prison.

"How did he escape?" a female voice demanded and Gabriel blinked up at Lieutenant Commander Uhura. He would have been tempted to hit on her, but he didn't go after taken ladies and he was pretty sure that her boyfriend would physically remove Gabriel's head from his shoulders if he tried. Actually, Gabriel was wondering why she was talking to him at all, since she really didn't seem to like him at all.

"You're wondering why I'm talking to you," she said coolly and Gabriel nodded dumbly, hoping for an explanation. She sank into the chair across from him and stared at his face, leaving Gabriel with the disconcerting impression that she was peeling away the layers of his soul.

"Sure you're not psychic?" he cracked weakly.

She gave him a flat smile. "Not psychic. And while I seriously dislike what you did to my friend, I am also probably the only individual currently on this ship capable of untangling my emotions long enough to see the logic behind your actions."

Gabriel was very surprised, to phrase it mildly. Uhura struck him as a highly emotional individual and he would have expected her to carry anger around with her like a weapon. She glanced up from the PADD she picked up and shrugged gracefully. "I was given a rather sharp awakening about how my emotions can cloud my vision a few years back. Now I try to ensure that I see all possibilities."

That was it. She had to have some sort of creepy psychic skill. He'd have to be careful around her. Very careful.

Dean, Jo and Talbot

"Who's this Starc dude and why the hell does he think he's so important?" Dean groused in a whisper as he crammed himself further behind a big crystal tower in the unidentified people's ship.

"I don't know, but you'll find out in a minute if you don't get your enormous foot off my hand!" Jo hissed. Obligingly, Dean shifted and hoped Starc and his buddies weren't suspicious enough to scan the ship. Jammed between the crystal tower and his attractive chief of security should have been rather pleasant but Jo was like a kid sister, not to mention part of his crew.

"Where's Talbot?" Jo asked suddenly.

Dean's head snapped around on his neck. "Thought she was with you, you two having banded against me."

Jo grinned cheekily. "I was on a deep undercover mission, fraternizing with a potential enemy for the purposes of surveillance and subterfuge."

That was when Dean froze, eyes fixed on a point past her shoulder and Jo sighed.

"She sold us out, didn't she?"

"Yep," Jo replied with a resigned sigh.

Impala

"Well that's interesting," Ash mused, stretching his fingers. "We got that last data burst from Sam and the planet they were checking out is completely dead. But Delta 5-B, the first planet attacked, is rebounding nicely. They'll have a rather slim harvest and Starfleet will have to continue to provide minimal assistance but by next year their lives will be back on track."

Castiel turned away from his pilot's console with curiosity. "Really," he asked in his not-a-question way. Ash nodded absently and flicked through the report carefully.

"I suppose we'll have to look at environmental factors next," Ash mused. "And someone better tell Bobby we may have to skip back to Delta 5-B, just in case Enterprise missed something."

The bridge crew stared at him. "I know, I know, Enterprise didn't miss something, but it's the only thing I can think of at the moment. Cas, we should skip that way at warp six, yeah? And Ensign Miura, draw up a comparison of the two plants for me. I want to know every factor those planets share in common and every way in which they differ. Cas, you have the conn. I need to think."

Everyone was familiar with this practice. Ash's brain was like a supercomputer – it ran on facts at an inhumanly high rate of speed, capable of considering any and all permutations and their probability percentage. Unlike Sam's thinking process, where the first officer leapt to the correct conclusion and proved his theory from there, Ash thought from the ground up.

He sat in the darkened ready room, flipping through all available data and came up with fifteen acceptable scenarios given the current knowledge base.

Unfortunately, only three of those scenarios directly benefited the Federation and the probability of one of those scenarios actually coming true was quite frankly, nonexistent.

Now Ash had to figure out the best plan of action to take.

He irritably kicked the captain's table and cursed an absent Dean before settling in to think carefully once more.

Dean, Jo and Talbot

"I don't know what they feed fanatic fundamentalists," Dean drawled, "but I'm more than a little curious. I'd like to be as big as the Hulk. It'd save me from getting this gorgeous face messed up by Klingons."

There were nine of them, scruffily dressed in leather and cotton in earth tones, phasers battered and scratched but in good condition. Judging from the way the captors moved, they knew how to scrap and even with Jo's freaky knife skills, they were massively outnumbered. Not to mention Bella Talbot aiming her pretty little phaser at a rather important section of Dean's anatomy.

Ignoring the phaser with a huge amount of will-power, he sized up the situation further. He came to the conclusion they needed to make it to the brig. Then the leader of this intrepid little band would go away and leave them with two or so guards, a much more manageable problem.

In the meantime – "Care to explain?" Dean requested with deceptive calm, gesturing to a rather blasé Talbot. She shrugged airily.

"They paid me right off the bat to grab the nearest Starfleet captain. You haven't shown me a single counterfeit credit. I'm a lady of fortune and go where the money leads me. Personally, I was hoping Jim Kirk would bite - the Enterprise would sell for more. But I'll take what I can get and now all I have to do is lead my employers back to the Impala."

Jo snorted indelicately and Dean gave a lopsided smirk. "And what the hell leads you to think the Impala's still where I left her?"

Bella shrugged. "Nothing. You'd just better hope she's there because if she's not, my friends here have no reason to keep you alive." She patted his cheek with no small force. "Now then, if you'd like, you can make me a better offer and I'll pretend to consider it."

Dean told her exactly what he thought.

The giant (shorter than Sammy, hah) leader – Starc? – thoughtfully smashed his fist into Dean's face.

Dean told Starc exactly what he thought.

Starc smashed his fist into Dean's face again and that was when Dean decided to shut up. Unfortunately, he was already fighting the black spots of impending unconsciousness floating around in front of his eyes. Another love tap from Starc ensured Dean was thoroughly out in la-la land.