Star Trek Cowboy

Rescue mission attempt

Spike's spindly legs carried him as fast as they could from the smoldering wreckage, two cruisers bearing down on him from behind and above like buzzards too hungry to play the role of carrion—but his legs didn't carry him nearly fast enough. He could've run a hell of a lot faster if he didn't have a kid tucked under one arm and a dog tucked under the other. That was two bad luck charms in tow, he lamented. No idea where the third bad luck charm—the Bebop's resident woman with attitude—had gotten off to, nor had he seen where Jet had gone, but he was just a bit too busy to care about either of them. Jet and Faye could take care of themselves, and as for Spike?

A barrage of disruptor blasts the desert at his heels, kicking up sand with metallic zips and pops.

Spike put on another burst of speed with a muttered curse. Nope, no time to worry about the rest of the crew just then. No way, no how.

Even though the blasts had set a ringing in his ears and a spin in his head, Spike had enough savvy left in him to run in a zigzag pattern across the desert floor, flowing along the curve of the dunes like water along the base of a carved bowl, fluid and unpredictable. Klingons piloting the cruisers on his tail circled overhead, trying to shoot him down, but he dodged and glided and spun and the bullets struck nothing but empty sand and as the cruisers zoomed past with roars of angry engines. To the buzzards circling above it must look like Spike had no destination proper, but in truth he'd spotted a low ridge of rock to the south; he made his indirect way towards it without giving away his intended destination. Spike knew better than to do so, spin in his head regardless. He had a plan. He knew what to do.

The kid under his arm, however?

Useless.

Said kid thrust her arms forward, legs stuck out straight behind them like a flying hero from an old comic book. "Whee!" she squealed, Spike's ears ringing all the louder. "Faster, mister, faster!"

Ein, snug beneath Spike's other arm, barked once.

"Edward is a birdie, cheep cheep cheep!"

Ein barked twice.

"Aw, pipe down, the both of you!" Spike bellowed. Ed flailed, giggling and gleeful, and Spike's steps faltered under her shifting weight. "And stop moving or you'll get us both kille—"

Shots came close, then, sand spattering the back of Spike's jacket hard enough to sting his covered skin. He stumbled, Ed's shrieks turning manic, but Spike regained his feet and pelted all the harder toward the rocky ridge. Somehow, despite the jagged blur and jounce of running, Spike saw Ein's ears prick up. The mutt's head swung off to their left, and then his stubby legs kicked and his long back bucked against Spike's ribs. Spike wasn't about to argue with his emergency rations. Hell if he cared about the damn dog. If Ein wanted to run off, so be it. He let the dog go and kept running—although he did a double-take when Ein hit the ground at a dead sprint and veered left, sure as shit heading straight to the southeast.

"What the—? And just where the hell do you think you're going?" Spike called after him.

"After him, Spikey, after our Einy-boy!" came Ed's very helpful suggestion, accompanied by a feat of acrobatics that resulted in a foot pressing to the back of Spike's head.

Ein barked once over his shoulder.

"You gotta be kidding me!" Spike said.

A toe lodged itself in Spike's ear. "Edward might be a kid, but Edward never kids!"

"Errrrggh—fine, but you owe me big time!" Spike adjusted course. "You get back here right now you mangy little—!"

He swung to his left and followed the dog's prints across the sand, still heading for the rock ridge only now at an angle that would take much longer to reach, meaning they would be exposed for longer, meaning why had Spike listened to the damn dog and the damn kid instead of his own damn self?! With a bellow of rage and exertion he maintained his flowing zigzag, narrowly avoiding yet another spray of disruptor blasts just as Ein reached the ridge ahead of them. The dog took a flying leap over the rocks, squat legs extended comically ahead of his long body as he fell from sight—

Just as he disappeared, Spike saw movement beyond the ridgeline. Five shapes, five shapes that turned to silhouettes rose from behind the rocks and stood, and off of something in their hands sunlight glinted oily and dark.

Spike recognized the high caliber disruptor rifles in a moment of white-hot recognition. Each of the five men gripped guns, enormous guns built for long-range combat held at ready, and on instinct alone Spike dug in his heels and skidded to a stop, gut asking the question his conscious brain could not.

Was he about to get shot in the fucking face?

Spike waggled the cigarette dangling from his lip and asked, "Anybody got a light?"

The Klingons looked at each other, knocked off balance as Spike had hoped, though.

"You Starfleet?" the Klingon asked—only he had a light voice. Too light. A woman, then, but that hardly mattered.

"Am I what?" Spike said.

Ed released a bright laugh, flopping into a backbend. She upside-down-crab-walked to the woman with the gun on her hands and wagged one finger at her, grinning. "Do we look like Starfleet to you!"

The woman stepped back, unnerved as Ed flopped onto the ground and began rolling in a circle, now muttering a rhyme about swans. "Er. No. They're definitely Federation," she said.

"Stealth agents?" said one of the Klingons. The suggestion made the woman snort. "This lot?"

Spike thought about being offended. Decided against it. Not worth the effort. He yawned and stretched as Ed performed a handstand, watching with a suppressed smile as Ein popped back up over the nearby ridge and ran over to his best buddy.

Suddenly another Klingon threw something at Spike, she slumped back. Bound hands lay limp across her bare knees in the very portrait of defeat.

"Hello to you too, Faye," Spike said. "Fancy meeting you here."

Faye sighed. Dramatically.

"Well, now. Why the long face?"

"Oh, it's nothing." She sighed " you always seem to get me Cuffed or tied up"

Spike scowled. Faye attempted to get up but suddenly the four of them was beamed away. Leaving the Klingons very pissed they had lost their prey.