Chapter Text
It was supposed to be routine survey of a newly discovered Class M planet. It was supposed to be easy, in and out. It was supposed to go off without a hitch.
So when communications with the ship go dead seconds after beam down, Pike groans. It figures. Nothing ever goes according to plan these days.
“Number One, is your communicator operating?”
“Negative, Captain.” She tucks the device away. It is useless to her now.
The science officer that beamed down with them looks up from his tricorder. “It appears the source of the interference is the result of an ionic cloud. Good news, it’ll dissipate in three hours.”
Pike rubs at his eyes, “So what’s the bad news?”
“We cannot contact the ship until that time.”
“All right. We might as well get to work, then. Don’t wander far while communications are down.”
Lieutenant Connor scurries off like a kid in a candy shop. Number One turns away from Chris, but before she can start off he grabs her by the arm.
“Wait, you never told me who you gave the conn.”
“Kirk.”
Pike shakes his head, releasing his first officer. “Here’s to hoping Winona doesn’t refuse to give it back.”
“I did not give control of the Farragut to Winona, Christopher,” she says impassively.
He blinks. “Then who…”
“I gave it to James.”
“Why the fuck did you think that was a good idea? He’s fifteen. He’s not even in Starfleet!”
She shrugs, unfazed by her Captain’s obvious upset. “He is less destructive when occupied.”
Chris forces himself to relax. They were in Federation space, the ship is in synchronous orbit above an uninhabited planet, and in perfect repair.
It’s not like anything could really go wrong.
Right?
*.*
When Number One put him in command of the Farragut , Jim had never been more excited in his life. It was going to be awesome. He’d get to sit in Pike’s chair. He’d get to give orders (even if they were mostly “maintain orbit” and “try to get through to the away team again”). He might even get to boss his mom around, though he is willing to admit that that might not be the best idea.
Either way, he was sure that it was going to be fun.
*.*
What he said earlier? That was a lie.
Sitting in the Captain’s chair is not fun. It’s not exciting. It’s boring as fuck because nothing is happening.
The most interesting occurrence thus far was losing contact with the away team, but that was a mystery quickly solved, and now it is nothing more than a waiting game.
Jim would kill for something interesting to happen.
Roughly an hour into the most intense boredom he’s ever experienced in his life, a Bird of Prey appears on their sensors.
Well. Be careful what you wish for.
*.*
Jim’s Klingon is rusty, but it’s good. And he figures that it won’t hurt their chances to treat the Klingon Captain with respect. Speaking in his tongue (even just a little bit) might be the push they need.
“Jim, they’re hailing us.”
“Okay. No matter what happens, play along. And call me Captain Kirk.”
He heard the helmsman heave a pained sigh.
“Onscreen.”
“Yes…
Captain.
”