Chapter Text
“Open your mouth.”
“Bones–”
“Don't sass me, boy. Open up.”
Jim made a show of rolling his eyes then obliged, sticking out his tongue and giving an exaggerated “Aahh”.
Bones pressed the depressor onto his tongue and shone his small flashlight into Jim's mouth. With a mildly satisfied grunt he leaned away, tapping Jim's chin so he could close back up.
“Do you really think that much has changed since this morning?” Jim asked, smacking his dry tongue against the roof of his mouth. He leaned back on his hands, crinkling the paper of the examination chair under his palms.
“God forbid a man be thorough,” Bones sniped. “Give me your arm.”
Jim huffed out a sigh and sat back up, doing as he was told. The band was barely velcroed to his bicep before Bones started pumping it up with the small bulb in his hand.
Bones stared at the gauge, comparing it to his watch. Then with a grumble, he ripped off the cuff and started scribbling on his clipboard. “Your blood pressure’s high.”
Jim leaned over to glance at the paper. “Oh, hardly. Besides, I'm excited! Aren't you going to take that into account?”
“No,” he responded, without looking up. His dark hair was a mess, hanging loosely over his forehead.
“Come on, Bones,” Jim said, leaning back on his hands again, “In only a few short hours I’m going to be in space. Give me some credit!”
“This isn't some run of the mill jaunt to the upper atmosphere,” he snapped, still scribbling. “The last thing you need is to keel over a million-million miles away from civilization because of your cholesterol.”
“That’s not quite scientifically accurate,” Jim said, laughing. Though the sentiment was the basically the same.
This mission was going to send him out further than any astronaut had ever gone before. He was being shipped off to test the state-of-the-art propulsion system of a brand new shuttle: a small, one man ship designed for deep space exploration. His job was to journey to a predetermined set of coordinates and remain there for one full month, observing phenomena and cataloging his findings.
Because of the nature of the craft, he would have to make the journey alone, which was the only stipulation of the mission Jim wasn’t particularly happy about. He usually thrived in the company of others, but the promise of the unknown and the potential for further exploration in the future left him excited all the same. At only thirty, it was almost unheard of for him to be heading a mission like this. But Jim had been working his ass off to get this job. He wanted it, so badly he could almost taste it.
He already endured dozens of check ups – blood work, agility tests, stamina tests, additional anti-grav training – all to make sure that he was in peak physical condition for this mission. He was an exemplary candidate – the only logical choice when the decision finally came all those months ago. But Bones wasn’t making it easy for him, constantly raising the bar for what that “peak” actually was.
“You’re all done,” Bones finally said, clicking his pen and shoving it into the clip on his clipboard. “Despite my best efforts to find something wrong with you, you have a clean bill of health.”
“I thank you for your confidence in me,” Jim said, sitting back up straight.
“You I believe in. It’s those damned shuttles I’m a little less sure of.” Bones dropped his clipboard on the counter and sighed, rubbing at his forehead like he was trying to stave of a headache.
“We’ve got the best people in the country working on this project. I’m not worried at all.”
“That’s what worries me!” He exclaimed, looking back up at Jim. “You’ve got too much faith in those damn rockets. What happens if you go up and you don’t come back down again? And don’t—” Bones said, pointing a finger at him as Jim opened his mouth to respond, “make some sort of joke, now. I’m being serious.”
Jim swallowed the joke he was indeed about to make – something about the laws of gravity? He’s sure it would’ve come to him in the moment – and gave Bones his most reassuring smile. “So am I. You know I know the dangers of this.” More than probably anyone else on the planet.
“I do,” Bones said as he crossed his arms. “So forgive me for hesitating to ship you off in one of those death traps.”
Jim hopped down from the examination chair, then reached around his friend to steal one of the lollipops from the counter. He placed his other hand on Bones’s shoulder.
“I promise, it’s going to be fine. There’s a great big, beautiful galaxy out there, Bones, and your best friend is gonna be first in line to see it all.” He popped the lollipop in his mouth. “It’s going to be great.” With a quick squeeze to Bones’s shoulder, he exited the room – ignoring the doctor’s continued grumbling – and headed out of the infirmary and towards the locker room.
Perhaps “locker room” was a bit misleading, however. The room itself was a high-tech open chamber, a handful of illuminated work tables bathing the room in a light blue glow. The walls were lined with floor-length cabinets that housed each employee’s personal effects, with digital nameplates to designate each one. In the corner of the room sat a small facilities area, including a sink, a body decontamination/sanitation station, and a full-length mirror.
Jim crunched on the last of his lollipop, tossing the stick in the trash can as he stared down at the components of his space suit. It was all laid out on one of the tables, each piece spread flat and labeled like a scientific specimen. This was going to be the extent of his wardrobe for the next month, heavy layers to protect him from the harsh, unforgiving elements of outer space. There were a lonely few basic civilian pieces for him, the NASA logo emblazoned across each one. As though he needed to advertise his workplace to the stars. He already felt a pang for his well-worn sweatpants, currently wadded up on the edge of his bed at home. They’d be waiting for him when he got back, at least.
In preparation for this mission, Jim had to practice getting in and out of his suit over and over again to ensure safety and efficiency. But no amount of practice could prepare him for actually donning it for real. He ran his fingers over the smooth spandex of his cooling garment, the first piece of many. He tugged gently on his cotton t-shirt, silently saying goodbye to its comfort, then shucked it over his head and began pulling on the suit.
He was lost in his head, walking himself through the steps of liftoff, when a knock on the door jolted him from his thoughts. Montgomery Scott poked his head into the room, a hand clasped over his eyes.
“Are ye decent, Commander?” he yelled, as though being unable to see Jim would make it harder to hear him, too. “I’m here for safety checks.”
“Yes I’m decent,” Jim said with a grin. “But I’m also a grown boy, Scotty. I can dress myself.”
Scotty dropped his hand from his eyes and stepped fully into the room. His bright red shirt was stained with grease – no doubt a casualty of his many projects – but his hands and face were clean, like he scrubbed up just for the occasion. Jim felt honored.
“I’m sure you can, sir. But you’ll soon be representin’ all of humanity to the rest of the universe. Best to be sure that you’re fit for it.” He walked over to Jim’s side and began tugging on the fabric clinging to Jim’s arms. “Plus, I’ve made some adjustments I’d like you to be aware of.”
Jim rolled his eyes, fond. It was just like Scotty to be adding gadgets and gizmos to his suit up until the last possible moment. He tapped on Jim’s shoulder.
“You’ll see here that I’ve added an extra cooling element to the suit, which should help to keep you comfortable as you exit and re-enter our atmosphere. It should also help to regulate your body temperature for far longer than the initial design. There are no showers in space, sir, we wouldn’t want ye to sweat through your getup on day one.” Jim chuckled and Scotty grabbed his wrist, holding it up between them. “I’ve placed a display here to show your vitals – heart rate, oxygen, and blood pressure. The lights will show through even the outer layer of your suit. Best to always know what you’re working with.”
Jim nodded politely as Scotty helped him into the rest of his suit, describing each of his changes in detail, all of which were ways to make him more comfortable and give him a bit more freedom of movement in such a tight little space. A little less than an hour later, Jim stood fully dressed save for his helmet, which was cradled in Scotty’s hands.
“Finally, I’ve added a microphone into the base of your helmet,” he said, tapping his index finger against the side, “You should be able to route all communications through here so you don’t have to be at the controls in order to send or receive messages. You can record your logs here, too. There’s a bit of a delay, you being quite a few legs out and all, but as long as you send out a transmission, our sensors should be able to pick it up.”
“I’ll resist the urge to send any prank calls,” Jim said.
Scotty laughed. “I’ll tell ye now-- my refrigerator is running, I don’t have any princes in cans, and you best not be needing to call any city morgues, or we’ll have a whole different batch of problems on our hands.”
Jim smiled, bringing his hand up to his chest. He ran his fingers over the name “Kirk” embroidered into his chest, right above the American flag. It had been a long time since that name made it out into the upper atmosphere. Too long. He ducked his head, allowing Scotty to attach his helmet.
“Looking sharp, Jim,” Scotty said with a satisfied nod. He crossed his arms. “Are ye ready?”
Jim took a deep breath, taking one last look at himself in the full-length mirror. He saw his father staring back at him, younger and leaner but still very much there. Jim swallowed down the lump in his throat and turned back towards his friend. “As ever, Mr. Scott. Let’s go.”
Scotty led the two of them out of the locker room and towards the large set of elevators at the end of the hall. Jim’s nerves were skyrocketing now. He could barely focus as Scotty activated his security clearance and walked him up to the launch bay. Before he knew it, he was staring at a set of metal sliding doors, a few mere feet away from the bridge that would lead him to his new temporary home.
He grit his teeth and stood a little straighter, determined to show more of his excitement than the lingering tendrils of anxiety. He opened the door and took a strong, confident step – then slammed right into a hard, broad chest. Jim to stumbled back, steadying the person he just ran into as he took in the crowd in front of him. Reporters and photographers flanked his sides, along with a small but obvious security detail standing imposingly behind a man Jim certainly hadn’t expected to see. One whose arms he was still clutching tightly. Jim let him go quickly and took a step back.
“Commander Kirk!” the man boomed, his teeth gleaming as he extended a hand towards Jim.
“President Kovak,” Jim said, giving it a firm shake – or at least as firm as he could with his hands buried under layers and layers of space suit. Cameras flashed in his periphery. He squinted against the light. “It’s a real pleasure to meet you. And a surprise.”
“The pleasure is all mine, my boy! What a momentous occasion!” He looked over Jim’s shoulder to smile and wave at one of the cameras. After a few flashes, he turned his attention back towards Jim. “I wanted to be the first to wish you good luck, and let you know and how delighted we are to have you represent us on this mission.”
“I feel the same,” Jim said, holding up a hand to the glass of his helmet to block some of the bright lights. “It’s an honor to be chosen.”
Kovak nodded. “When I heard about this mission… well it’s safe to say I was shocked!” he said, cheating again towards the cameras. “But the American people need something to believe in, damn it. And you’re it!”
“No pressure,” Jim said with a chuckle.
“You’re going to make us proud, Jim.” Kovak dipped his head closer, dropping his voice to seem as though he was sharing something private, even though the others could still hear. “I know your parents would be, too.”
Jim’s stomach flipped. He hoped his face was blank. “Thank you, sir.”
Kovak clapped a hand on Jim’s shoulder then dropped it. “I’m going to follow your engineer here back into the command center, where I’ve been promised a front row seat of your launch. We’ll all be watching you, Kirk!”
“I’ll be sure to show my good side,” Jim said.
Kovak threw back his head and laughed, then he and his crowd disappeared with Scotty back into the main building.
It was no secret that the whole world would be watching this launch – hell, Jim couldn’t walk down the street without being recognized, or passing one or five posters announcing the launch and all the outlets on which to watch it. But meeting the president! Seeing firsthand just how… big it all was, made Jim’s heart rate spike. No pressure, indeed.
He continued walking out onto the bridge connecting the main building to the shuttle. Technicians and engineering assistants were scuttling around, talking through headsets with the control room to check and double check that everything was running optimally.
Jim heard a familiar gait amid behind him and spun around, smirk already on his lips.
“You’re gonna have to put on your own suit if you want to come with me, Bones.”
“I’d sooner kiss a Saint Bernard.” Bones said with a frown. He dropped his voice low, his deep blue eyes filled with concern as they met Jim’s. “You sure you're ready for this?”
“I was born ready.”
“You might be the only person who could claim that.” Bones was well aware of Jim’s famous parents. It was a joke between them, that this work was in his blood. He also knew that meant Bones was extra committed to making sure Jim didn’t end up like them.
Jim smiled and hooked a hand behind Bones’ neck, gently bringing his friend’s forehead to rest against the glass of his helmet. He looked into his eyes, tracing the worry lines that creased in the corners.
“You know I'm gonna miss you,” he said, voice soft enough for the others on the platform not to hear.
Bones grunted and looked away, pink rising to his cheeks. “Just come back home, Jim,” he said quietly.
Jim smirked. “Wouldn't dream of leaving you behind, Bones. Besides, next time, you're coming with me.”
“Like hell I am. I prefer to keep my feet planted firmly on the ground, thanks very much.”
“Whatever you say,” Jim said with a chuckle. “Now back up. You’re smudging the glass.”
Bones scowled, drawing back and giving the side of Jim's helmet a playful, yet no less forceful smack.
“Hey! Is that any way to treat a soon-to-be national hero? Isn't that kind of abuse against your Hippocratic oath?”
“Smartass,” Bones hissed.
Jim grabbed him by the shoulder and gave him a squeeze. Bones placed his hand over Jim’s and squeezed right back before dropping both their arms and turning away to walk back down the platform. Bones had never been one for goodbyes. In this instance, Jim was grateful for it. He didn’t want to say goodbye either.
Besides, he’d be back. This was nothing more than a quick trip. Basically an errand. And when he returned, he’d invite Bones over for a beer and have so much to share with him. Jim stood up straighter, his excitement skyrocketing, then turned and continued down the ramp and into the shuttle – his home for the next month.
It was a cramped space, mostly just a place for him to sit at the controls, with a small cot affixed to the wall, and a tiny, closed off bathroom beside it. A sealed box stored his food rations, next to another that held just a handful of creature comforts: some books, a journal, and a photo wallet. It was going to get boring out here alone, and all at once he wished he would have the space to bring a few more things. He picked up the wallet and flipped it open, one side filled with a photo from when he was a boy, his parents and Sam, and the other with Bones and his little girl, Johanna. Jim could understand why Bones was hesitant to leave the planet. His entire world was on the surface.
Jim put the wallet back in its place, then buckled himself into the command seat. He began flipping all the switches, his body running on muscle memory. He had run hundreds of simulations before today, even practiced a few times in the shuttle itself, but doing it for real felt just as surreal as putting on his suit had.
“Hey Jim,” a pleasant voice crackled in his helmet as he flipped another switch. “Think you could pick up some milk while you’re out?” Jim laughed quietly, then pressed the comm button.
“I don’t know, Uhura,” he responded easily. “Shops are probably closed where I’m going.”
“Damn. Now what am I supposed to put in my coffee tomorrow morning?”
“I promise you I’ll buy you a coffee as soon as I’m back. A good one, too. With the foam art and everything.”
“I’ll hold you to that, sir,” she said lightly. Her voice shifted then, back into her usual no-nonsense tone. “Everything is looking good on our end. Mission control says that weather conditions are ideal and there should be no environmental interference on your way out of the atmosphere.”
“Good to know, I hate driving with the wipers on.”
“What is the ship’s status?”
“Everything’s looking good here – operating and functional. It’s even got that new car smell. Tell engineering they are modern miracle workers.”
“I will do that,” she said, the grin nearly audible. “It’s been at least twenty minutes since they last heard it. They’re probably worried they’re losing their touch.”
“Impossible.”
“See you on the other side, Captain,” Uhura said, then she cut the transmission.
Jim stilled. He was hardly that, but it had a nice ring to it, especially since this was the maiden voyage of the ship. It felt like it belonged to him, even if it really belonged to the United States of America.
He jolted as President Kovak’s voice boomed through his headset next.
“I’ve been given permission to tell you that all systems are go, Commander Kirk!” he boomed. “Godspeed. Go show the galaxy what we’re made of!”
“You got it, sir,” Jim responded. He continued flipping switches, gasping softly when the engine started rumbling. His heart was threatening to rumble out of his chest with it. This was it.
Jim pushed the comm button once more. “This is James Kirk to ground control, ready to explore the final frontier. Lift-off in 10...9...8...”
Jim finished the countdown as the rumbling erupted into a great explosion, propelling him skyward. Gravity pushed him into his seat as he watched the sky morph and darken as he exited the atmosphere and flew off towards his destination. Stars glittered past him, stretching and dancing as though they were waving him on. Jim whooped and gripped the controls tighter. He was ready for whatever excitement the galaxy was ready to give him.
*********
Jim was bored.
He kicked at the hull underneath the console with the toe of his boot and let out a grunt. He was exploring where no man had ever gone before! This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, one that most people would never experience for themselves! Who was he to complain?!
But there was only so much one could do on a tiny shuttlecraft by himself. It was day six, and nothing of note had happened yet. Space was silent and vast and existentially terrifying. But it was exhilarating, too, and Jim couldn’t deny its beauty. He spent hours at a time just staring out of his viewscreen, memorizing the new constellations sprinkled across the never-ending space. He imagined what existed beyond them, what secrets could be discovered if he could just push this shuttle a little further out. But eventually, even that tired him out, and he longed for the company of one of his peers to break up the monotony. Each day, he made a personal log of his observations, sent directly to the folks back home. He was still in range to transmit, even if he couldn’t receive anything back directly, and it made him feel significantly closer than the actual miles that spanned between him and Earth.
He massaged the back of his neck, grateful that the artificial atmosphere of the cabin allowed him time outside of the full suit at least, then clicked on the recording.
“Scientific log of Jim Kirk, day six of thirty,” he began, “Another day in paradise, the water is warm and the breeze from the ocean is even better than the brochures promised.” He chuckled to himself. “No substantial observations yet. The shuttle is operating at peak efficiency – be sure to let Mr. Scott know his work is appreciated. I have begun charting the starts located at my current coordinates. Tell Bones that Johanna is going to need to come up with some interesting stories to go with these brand new constellations I’m marking down. Not homesick yet,” he hesitated, “but boy I wish you all could see what I’m seeing. Kirk out.”
He submitted the transmission, then rose from his chair and headed over to his cot. The hardest part of being out in space was the simulated day cycle. It was so easy for time to blend and bleed into itself. He’d been pacing himself with both rations and reading, so he wouldn’t accidentally blow through it all at once. Because then what would he do? He’d probably have to start coming up with some of his own stories for the constellations to share with Johanna himself.
Jim was laying out on his cot, nibbling at the corner of one of the ration bars when suddenly the alarm sound echoed through the cabin. He shot up to his feet, jamming the rest of his bar into his mouth, shoving his body into his suit, and snapping his helmet on as quickly as he could.
The sensors were going crazy, strobing lights and overlapping alarms overwhelming his senses. He leaned over the control panel, frantically scanning the displays, but he couldn’t get a solid read on anything. The readouts were changing constantly, as though the data being recorded was coming in at an alarming rate.
Bright, painful light flooded the cabin, causing Jim to stumble backwards, tripping over his feet and falling to the ground. The shuttle shook beneath him, provisions and supplies rattling in their cases as the ship began to hurtle through space. Jim hauled himself to his elbows, trying to peer out of the viewscreen, but everything outside the window blurred, warped into a kaleidoscope of vibrant colors. He couldn’t tell exactly what was happening, but he could tell whatever the ship was doing, it was doing it fast.
Another shake rattled Jim to his bones, and there was a mechanical pop! as artificial gravity went offline and his body slowly lifted off the ground. In a panic, he rocked his weight forward, scrabbling back towards his chair. He clutched the leather of the seat, ignoring the way his muscles screamed as he hauled himself into it and strapped himself down, fingers fumbling as the ship continued to rock.
For one brief moment, Jim felt entirely weightless, the shuttle hovering in the ether as if completely on its own. Then his whole world shifted, and he fell.
The shuttle plummeted downwards, the pressure in the cabin increasing and the heat rising. Jim barely had the chance to open his mouth to scream before everything went black.