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Space, the final frontier. Dramatic words, designed to capture the imagination and send it flying off into the unknown in a state of excited anticipation. Zefram Cochrane’s words worked their magic on Jim, too. He loved space, being surrounded by stars, by infinite possibilities. Right now, it was the only thing around him for billions upon billions of miles. What was it Bones had said? Space is disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence. Well, the silence part was definitely right. If Jim didn't get back to the Enterprise within the next hour, his dead body would float forever in the black. He drifted alone in an EV suit steadily running out of air, nothing but space around him. His shuttle was nothing more than fragments and the Enterprise was a long, long, long way away.
And it had been such a successful trip, right up until the moment it all went horribly wrong.
Jim had been at a conference on a newly minted Federation world while the Enterprise and her crew continued a planetary survey in a neighbouring solar system. He’d taken a shuttle and enjoyed the rare chance to spend some time alone. He always relished the opportunity to fly, too, even if his skills would never compare to Sulu’s. Not that he couldn’t pilot a shuttle pretty damn well, but he wasn’t ashamed to admit he lacked Sulu’s finesse.
And no, the shuttle’s explosion was in no way his fault.
Anyway, for four days, he’d sat in on various speeches, diplomatic meetings and cultural exchanges. To his surprise, Jim enjoyed every minute. Maybe he missed his ship, but he couldn’t deny how good a break felt. It was great catching up with Pike, too. He was happy to see his mentor doing so well and quite literally back on his feet.
Once the four days ended, Jim said his farewells, contacted the ship, arranged a rendezvous and left the planet behind.
Except an hour into the return trip, the shuttle malfunctioned. The environmental systems went offline, a frenzy of red warning messages flashing onscreen. Oxygen was his biggest worry; he was already down to five percent. Jim only had time to frown at what he saw. The main console exploded in a dazzling firework display, metal shards flying out. Something slashed his leg, but he soon forgot. With his air running out and gravity offline, he'd had no choice but to suit up and abandon the shuttle. He paused long enough to activate the emergency beacon.
That was when he noticed something odd. A light flashed beneath the screen where no light belonged. He ran his fingers along the groove between the screen and the shuttle's panelling and found something awful.
Someone had lodged a tiny, paper-thin explosive device into the tiny gap.
Sabotage.
Helmet in place, he'd launched himself out of the shuttle. Thrusters on full, Jim barely cleared safe distance before the small craft ended its life in an even more impressive display of pyrotechnics. Silent shockwaves sent him spinning, but he had just enough power left in the suit's thrusters to right himself. After that, he had to dedicate everything to the preservation of his own life. He had no way of knowing if the emergency beacon had been active long enough for the signal to reach the Enterprise. If it hadn’t, his only hope was to last as long as possible and hope they came looking. He activated the emergency beacon built into his suit and waited.
And waited.
And now, twelve hours later, five hours late for the rendezvous with the ship, Jim remained adrift. Hunger rumbled in his stomach and his leg ached dully for some reason he couldn't really remember, but it was easily ignored compared to the thirst. The things he would do for a sip of water. For all the advancements EV suits had made over the centuries, no one had worked out how to make them provide nourishment.
With some effort, Jim turned his thoughts away from himself and any thoughts of the Enterprise and locked them onto space once again.
It was like being in a vast pool of water, only without the water. No matter how far he stretched, he never touched a solid mass. Stars shone around him; stars he knew, stars he didn't know, stars he would one day explore and stars so distant he'd never see them. Some were new, some were dead. Clustered or alone, dim or bright, every single speck held its own beauty. Even in a state of crisis, they calmed Jim, soothed his anxieties.
Something beeped inside his helmet. Worrying words flashed across the HUD: Oxygen Levels At Critical. Uh oh. Someone needed to work out how to miniaturise the ship's O2 production systems for the suits. Maybe if he survived this, and found some spare time, he'd get right on that.
But there wasn't much point worrying about it now. There wasn't anything he could do aside from drifting and waiting. He floated in a sea unlike any other. Beyond the sound of his breathing and the occasional beep from the suit's systems, profound silence held on.
Darkness and silence. Bones' words came back to him. Some people would probably go mad in emptiness like this. To realise exactly how tiny you were, how infinitesimal, how unimportant your life was because you weren't even a speck on the universal scale. Space wasn't just vast. From a human perspective, it was infinite.
Jim found it comforting and horrifying. He was the ant under the boot, too tiny to affect any changes, too small to matter. Nothing mattered. The universe would go on without him. It didn't care, it didn't feel; it was too big, too magnificent to care about the little things. A star wouldn't fall in memory of him. A planet wouldn't die for the loss of James Tiberius Kirk. Nothing would change.
But people would miss him, and that was why space didn't frighten him or overwhelm his rationality. People gave the universe meaning. He had a home, a family of friends, he had Bones and he had a purpose. Who gave a shit about the universal scale when he had all of that?
"Oxygen levels critical. Switching to emergency backup."
Jim took a deep breath and held it in. An overwhelming urge to sleep took hold. Heavy eyes closed. The stars littered his dreams too.
"Power levels fluctuating. Return to ship for recharge."
The voice dragged him back. Return to ship. What a joke. Whoever designed the suit clearly hadn't thought of this eventuality.
Who had sabotaged the shuttle? The conference had been peaceful. No protests, no hint of discontent. So why the attack?
Power levels dimmed further. Cold bit into him. Not the cold of space, that would kill him in minutes, but the deep chill of a winter's day. Swearing lethargically, Jim focused everything into the suit's environmental controls. He couldn't die of hypothermia before he suffocated.
Tiredness swept over him again. He couldn't fight it. The stars sparked and shone around him endlessly. And yet as beautiful as they were, he really hoped the next time he woke up, he'd be aboard the Enterprise.
He couldn't disappoint the crew.
He couldn't leave Bones.
He couldn't...
***
Uhura didn't enjoy being the bearer of bad news. Unfortunately, due to her being the Head of Communications, it frequently fell to her to make unpleasant announcements.
"Still no contact with the Captain's shuttle," she told Spock. "I'm not picking up any distress signals either. I’ve alerted Starfleet, and I’ve been informed they are contacting Admiral Pike as he is still on the planet."
Spock accepted her news with the slightest of nods before turning to the helm. "Are the sensors detecting anything?"
"Nothing, sir," Sulu reported from the helm.
"Ensign Chekov, do you have the captain's course?"
"Aye, sir, I plotted it myself," Chekov replied.
"Lieutenant Sulu, follow the course back to the planet, full impulse,” Spock ordered. “We cannot risk missing the captain due to excessive speed."
"Aye, sir."
As they left rendezvous point, a transmission came through from Starfleet Command. Alerting Spock, Uhura put it onscreen. Admiral Barnett's grim face appeared. When his eyes met Spock's, his expression darkened. "Commander, we've received word from the conference that a Romulan spy was apprehended shortly after Captain Kirk left the planet. The spy had a variety of explosive devices in his possession. As Kirk has yet to return to the Enterprise, I fear he may have been the target."
Spock sensed numerous pairs of eyes lock onto him. He didn't look away from Barnet.
"Whatever has happened to the captain occurred in space."
"We haven't detected any emergency broadcasts," Uhura added. Did they have to be pessimistic?
"It may be too late. I'm transmitting the data we have of the explosives found on the spy. Perhaps it will aid in your search."
"Transmission received,'" Uhura said.
"I will analyse them now," Spock said. "Admiral, I will report back as soon as possible."
"Understood. Good luck, Commander."
The message ended. Sitting at the science station, Spock completed his analysis in record time and fed the data into the ship's sensors.
A positive response sounded within moments.
"Take us to the coordinates," Spock ordered Sulu. "Warp Factor Eight."
"Aye sir."
When they burst back into normal space just moments later, they found a debris field.
"It was the shuttle, sir," Chekov confirmed grimly.
"Lifesigns?" Spock asked, illogical though it was.
"None," Chekov said softly.
The bridge crew took a moment to digest what they'd just learned.
Spock recovered as best he could, crushing every emotion, focusing entirely on duties and regulations. "Scan for signs of human remains."
Chekov gave a despondent affirmative.
"Wait," Uhura said. She pressed her hand to her earpiece. "There's something. It's faint..." She flipped switches, fine-tuned frequencies, and listened, shutting out everything else around her. And then she had it. Faint, distorted, but unmistakeable. "It's an emergency signal! Sulu, I'm sending you the coordinates."
The bridge came alive. Sulu activated the thrusters as Spock alerted medical and the transporter chief.
"I have something," Lieutenant McCullough, Spock's relief, said from the science station. He frowned at the screen. "I think it's a life sign, but it's very weak."
A startled blast of Russian came from navigation. "I have a visual!" Chekov declared. He put it onscreen without prompting.
The image of a body floating in space appeared, just barely standing out from the space surrounding him.
"Beam him aboard," Spock ordered.
"Energising," said the Transporter Chief.
Lights gathered around the figure in space. Moments later, he was aboard.
“We got him, Spock,” McCoy’s voice came over the intercom. “Standby.”
During the delay, Spock's patience held out, keeping the bridge from becoming too frantic.
A loud groan filled the air. “Drink, Bones, need a drink.”
The relief was palpable. Even Spock felt himself relax.
"Shut up, Jim. Yeah, Spock, he's alive. I need to get him to the medbay. I'll keep you posted."
"Understood,” Spock said. “Mr Sulu, return us to our mission coordinates."
"Aye sir."
***
Jim awoke on the transporter pad surrounded by blurry people and a lot of light. Crap, were they always so bright? And did the gravity always feel so heavy? There were voices but they weren’t making sense…
Dizzy. Lightheaded. Heavy. Tired. Thirsty. He was so thirsty…
“Jim? You with us?”
Was that Bones? Filling his lungs with wonderfully fresh recycled air, Jim nodded. “Drink, Bones, need a drink.”
Bones told him to shut up… and then he drifted off. The next thing he knew, he was surrounded by warmth. He sighed contentedly. Maybe he felt too heavy, but that just meant he could sink deeper into the cotton candy warmth.
"Jim?"
“No. Nope. Not today.”
Holy shit was he ever on the good drugs.
"Open your eyes. Prove you're still in there and I'll leave you alone for another hour."
Sighing grumpily, Jim opened his eyes as his head lolled to one side, and "Hey Bones, there you are." His hoarse voice nevertheless conveyed his happiness.
Expression softening, Bones ran a hand through Jim's hair. "There you are."
Jim smiled dopily. “You found me."
"Yeah, we found you. Just in time too. Another minute and it would've been a toss up between what killed you first: suffocation, hypothermia or bloodloss."
"Bloodloss?"
That earned Jim an epic eye roll. "You didn't notice the massive gash on your thigh?" Bones asked.
"Ah, no." He couldn't feel it now either. He only felt heavy and warm, warm and heavy and maybe kinda dozy too.
"Any idea how it happened?"
"Uuuuuuum, the shuttle exploded. Say sorry to the flight deck officer for me, whatshername? I forgot. Say sorry though, okay? Didn't mean to lose a shuttle."
Bones made a sound suspiciously like a chuckle. "Okay, Jim."
"Okay. Great. So I'm okay?"
"You're fine. Little bit of oxygen and a blanket or two kept you with us long enough for M'Benga and me to put your leg back together. Spock says hi, by the way. I’m sure he’ll stop by when he’s done reporting to Starfleet that you’re not dead. Pike was pretty glad to get the good news, too. Quit scaring him, kid. He cares about you. So do I, in case you’d forgotten, so kindly avoid near death experiences for, like, eternity, okay?"
Jim fixed Bones with what he hoped passed for an unamused glare worthy of Spock. “If you’re done being sappy, I could use a drink.”
Muttering under his breath about dunking Jim in enough water to drown him, Bones nevertheless provided a glass of water and a straw. The chill helped clear some of the fuzz in Jim’s brain, although he still felt weighed down. “Gravity sucks.”
"Fourteen hours in zero-g will do that," Bones replied. "Can't imagine what re-adjusting to Earth gravity must've been like before they had generators on ships."
Jim grinned. "It was good while it lasted."
A hand touched his forehead. "Not feverish..."
"I know it's all darkness and silence and huge and I'm tiny and the universe doesn't care about anything I've done or will do, but it's really awesome, Bones. It's so... so immense!" Starlight shone in his mind's eye. "I love it. I don't care if I'm tiny and everything I do is pointless. Space is amazing."
A gentle kiss touched his forehead. "Space is lucky to have you."
Working a hand out from beneath his blankets, Jim reached up, intending to cup Bones’ cheek but missing. His depth perception was really off. "You're so nice to me."
Bones chuckled. "That's real sweet of you to say, but I think maybe you need some more sleep."
Jim managed to grab Bones’ arm. "Um…"
"Yeah?"
Embarrassed, Jim felt a blush heating his cheeks. "I really am here, aren’t I?”
There went the eyebrow.
“It’s just - ow! Did you just pinch me?”
“You think you’re gonna spend your afterlife in sickbay?” Bones asked.
“I am way too high to talk about that kinda shit right now.”
Bones laughed. "Fine, just try not to irritate any more Romulan terrorists, okay?"
“Oh, is that who it was?” Jim asked. His lips twitched. "Might be too late for that."
"Yeah, yeah. Go back to sleep."
Jim's eyes fell shut. Gentle lips brushed his own as Bones took hold of his hand and squeezed it tight. It wasn’t enough to keep Jim from sliding into sleep, but it anchored him nonetheless.
“I don’t care how big space is, Jim. If you get lost, I’m always gonna find you.”