Kirk's body slammed into the turbolift, fingers flickering over the phaser to power it on while the doors shut.

"Engineering." He called out to the voice command recognition, standing three feet away from the door, ready to pounce as it opened.

His communicator chirped.

"Kirk here," he announced, flipping the communicator open with his free hand, his eyes focusing on the floor numbers increasing in value every second that went by.

Engineering is located on deck 8.

"Spock here, Captain. We believe the savage crew member is attacking a lieutenant in engineering. I've requested security guards to accompany you."

Deck 5…6…

"Already on my way there, Spock. Have you identified who it is yet?"

Deck 8.

"Negative, Captain. Although I believe you're about to find out."

Shoosh!

Kirk strode past the turbolift doors, his eyes flitting around the large area for signs of anyone running.

"I'll let you know if we've caught them. Tell the security guards to fan out from me, we can cover more ground that way."

"But Captain—"

"That's an order, Spock! The longer that son of a bitch is out there, the more likely my crew are at risk of being attacked. Kirk out." He snapped the communicator shut without regret, beginning to search the area for the attacker.

Along a large narrow stairwell, Kirk saw a figure in the distance trapezing across a passageway, 3 decks above him in a dead sprint.

"Hey!"

The man turned to the source of the voice, jumped in surprise and darted off in another direction, running to a series of stairs.

Swearing under his breath, Kirk set his phaser to stun and shot at the figure.

The sound of the shot hitting metal reverbed across the room, sparks spitting outwardly from the missed target.

"Shit," Kirk muttered, then continued to run after him "Lieutenant! Identity yourself!"

The man jumped off a railing to a lower deck and shot several times at a pole, causing it and numerous other beams below it to collapse like dominoes.

"Lieutenant! That's an order!" in response, all Kirk got was more shots fired and pieces of metal collapsing around him.

As a large beam collapsed right in front of him, Kirk stumbled back and darted off in another direction.

Perhaps his plan to prove his mightiness and 'go it alone' wasn't such a good idea.

Fumbling for his communicator, he ran up another flight of stairs, "Kirk to bridge, I have the adversary in engineering, section 25A, heading for 26C, I need immediate backup!"

BANG!

The entire room felt like it was breaking apart, and the smell of smoke quickly invaded Kirk's nostrils.

"Captain, security is homing in on your location. Are you alright?"

Kirk glanced over the side of the balcony, vertigo quickly swarming his vision but correcting itself. A fire had started on the third floor.

"Yeah, I'm alright," he murmured, gazing at the fire as it began crawling its way up the stairs, "There's an uncontained fire that's started on the third floor, it's spreading."

"Acknowledged, Captain. Recommend ordering an evacuation of the vicinity."

Kirk was about to refuse and say it was better not to cause a scare, but another bulkhead suddenly toppled down into the fire, sending the flames raging in a treeless forest fire.

"Approved. Sound the alarm throughout engineering."

"Acknowledged. I recommend not apprehending the man further, Captain, it is only resulting in destruction. We should wait until he is in a less volatile location."

Kirk sighed, tucking his phaser into his belt but keeping it charged, just in case. "Understood, Spock."

Not even a moment later, a loud ear-piercing klaxon began vibrating through the room, the whole area dimming a shade of red. Spock's voice soon followed.

"Alert to all crewmembers, a large uncontained fire in engineering is resulting in this notice of evacuation, please escort yourself to a safe location."

Kirk scoffed,

He could at least be a bit a quicker with the speech considering the circumstances.

Several redshirts swarmed the area—security guards, Kirk thought, before suddenly there was a loud shriek of a warrior cry from behind him.

"What the fu—"

Instantly, Kirk was rammed into the railings, hands clasped around his neck before he could even grab his phaser. His eyes bulged out of their sockets as he struggled to breathe.

"Bad move putting away your phaser, Captain." Hissed a voice from behind.

Groaning, Kirk managed to force his body backwards, sending the man flying into a bulkhead. Quickly he spun around, whipping the phaser out from his pocket and pointing it at the man currently sprawled out on the floor.

"Stay down. There are men coming for me, we'll get you to a safe place," he gingerly began running his fingers through the pounding ache forming around his neck.

Bones wasn't going to be too happy about that.

The prisoner scoffed, "Oh god, shut up, Kirk," and spat on the floor, "I don't need safety from the likes of you. Actually, it's not me that needs to be saved."

Kirk sighed. More mind games. Just what he needed.

"Uh-huh, and who does need to be saved?" he tried to ignore the ache crawling up his arm from having his phaser pointed at the man for so long.

"You. Your reputation. Your ship." The man snarled, slowly beginning to get to his feet. Kirk noticed the other phaser on the floor, quickly stepping on it to avoid the man reaching for it.

Not even this bastard can take my ship away from me.

"I don't want to shoot you, Kirk," the man laughed, "I only came to deliver a message, I just wanted to get your attention."

Kirk rolled his eyes, "Yeah, you've got it alright. Stand down, wait for backup to arrive. You'll have the opportunity to plead not guilty in a court mar—"

"Kirk!" the man shouted, suddenly jumping to his feet and running into the brunt of his phaser. Kirk's face remained still, in control, regardless of what he was feeling inside.

"Stand back, Lieutenant, or I'll shoot."

Please don't make me shoot you. I don't want to hurt you, god damn it. You're one of us.

The man laughed, "Oh, go on then, shoot me!" he threw his hands up in disbelief, "You'll get your ship and crew taken away from you because you didn't bother to listen to me. That's fine. Go ahead."

Kirk watched the man's snarl grow to touch his eyes, before he sighed and relented, "Alright. What is it? What do you want?"

"Prove to me that you can sacrifice yourself for your crew, and we'll forget all of this ever happened."

This time, it was Kirk's turn to laugh. That was a wild request coming from someone who had just tried to kill him.

"Oh, I don't think so. You've attacked a Starfleet Captain, not to mention attacking several crewmembers and causing destruction to a—"

"I don't give a fuck, Kirk!"

Jim finally shut his mouth.

"You murdered my family in cold blood. I don't give a fuck about being arrested, court-marshalled, jailed, I don't care."

Kirk frowned, what the hell was he going on about now?

"Lieutenant, you're mistaken…" he chuckled lightly, "I don't…I didn't kill your family. You're human. I don't…" he took a breath, "Starfleet doesn't kill humans in cold blood."

At this moment of weakness, the other man grabbed the phaser from Kirk's hand and plunged it against his chest.

"That's where you're wrong. They died in your hands. Under your ship. With your crew."

Jim felt his heart drop to his stomach. A family dying from his own actions? He would never in his right mind dare to do such a thing. This poor grieving man must have lost his family and decided to blame it on someone else.

Now having been thrust up against the balcony railings with a phaser pushed between his ribcage, Kirk was well and truly trapped.

"I don't understand…" Jim grunted heavily, "Help me to understand, Lieutenant. What happened?"

Kirk watched as the other man's already fury-induced eyes grew darker, as more false memories continued to cloud this clearly heartbroken man's judgement.

"They were on a vacation." The man said quietly, "They took a cargo ship to reach the adjacent planet. I was going to join them when we reached the Starbase KI3 a week ago." Kirk's breathing was beginning to match the trembling hand of the man who had his fingers tightened around the phaser.

If he accidently pulled the trigger…

"Do you remember the distress call we received last week? That woman that said her ship had been shot at by Klingons?"

Kirk silently nodded, dreading what information was about to pour out the man's mouth.

"That was my mother."

At that, Kirk remained silent, not knowing what to say. He did not kill a crewman's mother. That was unthinkable. He didn't.

Did he?

"You said you were on your way to apprehend them, but you took too long."

A long string of tense silence….

"YOU TOOK TOO FUCKING LONG!"

The phaser was jammed further into Jim's ribcage, eliciting a small screech of surprise and pain that the cornered Captain just couldn't hold in. There was bound to be a bruise there later.

"Do it." The man breathed, "Otherwise I'll join the allegiance with the Klingons. Tell them everything I know about Starfleet. I'll tell Starfleet it was you who caused this."

Kirk felt his chest struggle to contract, both laced with panic and pain from the device lodged between his ribs. He shook his head as if it was his only way to express his reply.

"Do you want that, Captain?" the man snarled.

Kirk stuttered out a shaky groan, "They…will kill…you…the Klingons…will kill you…"

"I DON'T CARE!"

"Aargh!" Jim screamed in pain as the phaser dug into his ribs again.

"I would rather be dead, either way," the man admitted quietly. His expression was so contorted with confusion, Jim was waiting to catch him in a weak moment.

"Well…what do you want from me…?" Kirk struggled out in rapid breaths.

"I told you," the man ground out, his eyes seething with rage again, "Sacrifice yourself."

Kirk blinked slowly, his heart hammering in his chest, a million thoughts running through his head. Where was security?

"I…can't…"

Kirk watched as the man in front of him seemingly sifted through seven different emotions, before finally the phaser was pulled away. He let out of breath in relief.

"Fuck you."

There was a bright blue light, pain in his chest, a sting to his neck, his mouth agape with a silent cry of pain… and then he was falling.

Endlessly falling.

He thought the wind across his face and air breezing across his shirt would never stop.

Broken and complete pieces of metal zoomed by, his mind dimly aware of the sound of the wailing siren in the background.

The cascade of blurred rushing images before him were flashing red, alerting him of a danger. Danger everywhere. It was so loud.

Then there was nothingness.

….

"Oh, oh no…"

"Are ye' alrigh'? Sir? Captain?"

"Captain!"

Jim's brain struggled to process the loud resounding world around him.

A male voice, shouting his name over the defeaning sirens of red alert.

He felt floaty, as if on a cloud, and the ground which he was laying on was just passing through him. His limbs were so heavy, he couldn't move. He couldn't speak.

"Captain? Oh no…" the man's voice becoming more and more prominent as his mind caught up with present time.

Very slowly, Jim cracked open his eyes.

It felt like struggling through deep water, as if an outside force was pushing him back, stopping him from reaching the surface of water to breathe.

The world was a startling assortment of red. A man hovering over him was wearing a red shirt, lights in the background danced the shade of blood, flashing on and off constantly.

His lagging brain noticed how the sirens became quieter as the lights dimmed out, and then became louder again as the red flooded the whole room.

"Captain? Did ye' fall from up there?"

Jim dragged his tired eyes back over to the strange accented voice, a voice that hadn't shut up the moment he broke his way into consciousness.

He couldn't understand what the man was saying. It was just words with a thick accent, a worried one at that, not to mention the near terrified expression on his face that went with it.

"Do ye understand what am' asking of ye, Jim? Do you have your communicator?"

A deep frown formed on Jim's face as his tried to decipher the words. Why couldn't he understand? His face hardened in sheer intensity as he focused on understanding the voice, but the wheels in his brain just didn't turn.

"Ach…alrigh', I need to find a wall panel to tell the good doctor what happened. Don't ye move, ye hear?"

It was a question, Jim could tell, but he didn't know what the man was asking of him. Jim's confused expression seemed to mirror onto the other man's face, as he frowned in concern, giving him a light pat on the shoulder and standing up to leave him.

Where was he going? His worried panting only grew faster when he tried to understand why he was breathing so rapidly in the first place. What was happening to him? What was going on?

The man quickly returned, a startled expression upon his features, "Don't ye look so worried, Cap'n. Am gonna be right back, ye hear me?"

Jim narrowed his eyes and shook his head, his breathing growing more rapid as he couldn't process a word of what was being said.

He bent his head back, eyes darting around the place in desperation as if trying to figure out where he was. There didn't seem to be anyone else around, there was a bright flame behind him, he wondered if his fall had something to do with that.

When he slumped his head back, he noticed the man was gone. And he was alone again.

Why was he lying here all alone?

Why couldn't he move?

Why was he breathing so fast?

Why couldn't he control his breathing?

Why was he struggling to breathe?

Was it the fire behind him?

Was the smoke going to kill him?

As all the questions in his head merged together into one, a tiredness loomed over him, a weakness in his limbs that made them more unresponsive than before.

Jim's attempts at trying to decode the situation drained away, as did his ability to remain conscious.

A black fog descended over his eyes, sinking him into a tunnel, going deeper, and deeper, and deeper…the world becoming further and further away, the sounds of the klaxons echoing and forming into one distorted noise.

Then he knew no more.

….

"Jim?"

"Jim, can you hear me?"

"Shit."

"I swear I jus' found him like this!"

"Yeah, I believe you, Scotty,"

"McCoy to medbay, I need immediate medical assistance in engineering, and begin setting up a team for surgery in the first suite."

"Acknowledged, sir, we'll be waiting for you."

"He was definitely awake when you saw him?"

"Aye, I tried speaking to him, but he just looked confused. He started panicking, breathin' real heavy and all. That's when I called you."

"Alright."

Fingers touched his face, gripping his jaw.

It caused pain. He didn't know how to express it.

"Jim? His pain indicator just shot up."

"Aye, he's conscious?"

"Apparently so."

The fingers returned, pressing around the side of his cheekbones, until the pain finally caused Jim's eyes to shot open on reflex, eliciting a gasp.

The man in red was here again, although albeit blurry, but was accompanied by a man in blue.

There was so many primary colours…

"There you are. Can't hide from me forever, kid, but I know you do try," the blue-shirted man offered a smile that looked strangely forced, and began digging into a white box that were placed between him and the red-shirted man.

He let out a low groan, not sure of how to communicate his confusion.

Was this man going to hurt him?

"Damn it, Scotty, you should've told me the extent of his injuries over the comm!" the man shouted to the poor red-shirt, "I've only got some god damn painkillers and a couple of scanners!"

Yeah, this man was definitely going to hurt him.

"Ach't did nae want to cause alarm!"

Even the red-shirted man seemed afraid of him.

He felt like he needed to boot it and run, but his whole body felt weighed down. The feeling of exhaustion that he experienced minutes before returned with a vengeance, and he was damned if he wasn't going to fight it.

"Hey. Hey, Jim? Stay with me kid, don't pass out on me now," the angry man suddenly dropped the contraption and had his hands around his face, his expression mottled with fear.

But none of that mattered anyway, because he was tired, and he didn't want to fight anymore.

"Jim. No. No—Jim! Dammit! Jim!"

…..

"…..'aser shot to chest cavity….."

"…'pproximately 34 feet drop from engineeri—…."

He was being moved around, Jim was sure of that. He felt as if someone was standing beside and constantly jostling him.

Jim rolled his head side-to-side, trying to strengthen his grip on consciousness.

"'eep still, Jim."

He moaned at that, subconsciously aware of the fact he was beginning to understand words again.

The minute he dragged open his eyes, he felt his yellow shirt over him tug, the sound of it ripping.

The world had stopped flashing red, in fact it was now a prestige gleaming kind of white, the amount of harsh lighting in the room making him want to claw his eyes out.

He struggled.

"I said stay still, dammit!"

Jim tried to lean forward to see what the man was doing… and evidently, he was cutting his shirt in half.

"Whaaa'?" he groaned in confusion, watching a pair of scissors effortlessly slice the rest of his shirt in half.

There were drops of red all over it—quite a lot of drops, actually. He wondered if the man in the red shirt was merging into his body.

He watched for a while longer, trying to keep up with what they were doing, but their hands were moving too fast.

Where was he anyway?

Before he could ask, Jim felt a tickle rocket in seconds from his gut to his throat, and without a chance to stop himself he projectile vomited across the room.

He expected the scowling man above him to chastise him about it; he really wasn't in the mood. He was tired and wanted to fall back to sleep.

But unless he was really really confused, all the man's face did was contort into an expression of concern, staring at the vomit over his chest.

"Still bleeding internally, damn it. Let's get him into surgery."

"Yes sir."

Jim blinked, trying to process what they were saying as a swarm of people suddenly swamped beside him and started messing around with nearby machines, whatever they were, and then the ceiling started moving.

His previous suspicions that this man was evil became a reality, as seconds after the world started moving, a hand descended from above and smothered his face with a mask.

The man was trying to kidnap him.

An inhuman screech at the back of his throat, then he started kicking in desperation—or at least he thought he was.

As that didn't seem to be working, he flitted his head back and forth trying to get the damn contraption off his face.

But it only increased the grip currently clawing around his jaw, strong fingers lifting his chin up and distantly telling him to 'relax'.

Relax? Who would relax when you're being kidnapped?

"Jim, it's just to help you breathe, calm down," the blue scowling man ordered above him, lifting his head to strap the mask over his face.

But he was having none of it.

Instead of exclaiming a coherent reply, Jim screamed something garbled from his numb lips and continued fighting against his kidnapper.

Fighting; as in whipping his head from side-to-side.

"Get off me!" he finally managed to scream an intelligible string of words together.

But the grasp squeezing the mask to his jaw was unrelenting.

"Dammit Jim! Calm down!" he was suddenly wheeled into a very cold room, a breeze tickling his bare chest.

"Fuck off! Stop touching me, you sadistic son-of-a-bitch!"

The man's face contorted into an expression that looked as if he was just told his dog died. Eyebrows knitted together in concern but frowning in a way like he was about to start crying.

Still, the blue man sighed and shook his head, bringing out another ridiculous looking contraption, continuing to look ahead as the bed moved, "Jim, do you know where you are?"

Nearly shouting another curse but processing the man's statement, Jim rapidly tried to take in the whereabouts of his location.

He had been moved, that was obvious by the ceiling moving and the room suddenly feeling chilly. The other people—humans by the looks of it, thank god, were stripping him of clothes from the torso down.

"No, and I don't care—I don't know why you think you can imprison me here in this shithole but let me tell you—"

"Imprison? Good god man, you've got a giant hole in your chest and I'm about to operate so that you don't die," he gave a frustrated sigh, and was glancing off into the distance somewhere, "You've been in here once before; don't'cha recognize it?"

The room stopped moving; his captors now had him in position.

"Recognise it? I don't even know who the hell you are!"

That struck a chord.

The man stared down at him dumbfounded.

"What did you just say?" the man stared in a way that Jim began to feel nervous.

Great, the strange square contraption was back out again.

Oh, it's making beeping sounds now, nice.

"Right, get him on the table and start disinfecting the incision site."

Jim heaved a breath, "I demand you tell me where the hell I am!"

Hands started latching onto his waist and legs, half-lifting half-dragging him onto what was a very cold surface. But admittedly it was more comfortable than the bed he was lying on, which felt like steel.

"Okay," the man reappeared and bent over into his line of vision again, this time equipping a small torch, "Follow the light for me."

"Fuck off." Jim swore as the yellow light pierced into his eyeballs, squeezing them shut and determined not to let his captor have the satisfaction of melting his eyes.

Then he felt a weird pressure over his stomach along with a bristly feeling, as if someone was using a brush to paint his belly. It felt chilly—and god it smelled strong.

He was thrown back into his current problem when an eyelid was pulled back, making his eyes defenceless to the supernova currently exposed to his retinas.

"Follow the pen."

Jim scowled, "No."

"Follow the god damn pen, Jim."

Grunting under his breath, he opened his other eye and glanced over to the contained supernova, lazily following the light as it moved. He was minutely aware of the art piece being drawn onto his stomach.

"Alright, you don't know where you are?"

"No." Jim shut his eyes with a sigh.

"And you don't know who I am?"

"No."

"Right. I think you've got a high-grade concussion, but I'll map out the possibilities of brain damage."

Jim shot open his eyes again, brain damage?

"What? Brain damage?"

"You fell from a pretty high place, Jim, you're lucky to be alive."

Jim wanted to shrug, but found he couldn't.

Come to think of it, he couldn't really move any of his limbs at all.

The man towering over him seemed to have noticed his worry, "You okay?" and brought that damn contraption out again, hovering it over his face.

Man, how he wanted to slap it away.

"Yea, just too tired to move my arms, it's annoying me—can you turn that damn…thing off?" he glared daggers at the bleeping contraption, glancing over to the blue man who's look of world-disaster had returned upon his features again.

Jim saw the man reached down for a second, picking up a disembodied arm and showing it to him. Creep.

"Can you feel this?"

Wait, that's mine?

He craned his neck to the side to see that yes indeed, his arm was actually being moved.

God, he must be really out of it.

"No, it just looks like you're carrying a disembodied arm."

The man mumbled something under his breath and dropped his arm, picking up something from a metal tray behind him, "I assure you, it's still yours."

"Won't be for long, by the looks of it," Jim muttered roughly, watching as the man began poking his hand lightly with a sharp object and subsequently frowning, "Is that why I'm here? You're gonna cut off my limbs? Make me numb and then sever everything?"

The other man looked rightfully horrified at the accusation.

"Good god, Jim! What kind of shit have you been reading to make you think in your right mind I'm trying to make a collection of body parts!" his eyeballs were nearly bulging out of their sockets, "If you're even still in your right mind, that is."

Jim huffed, and nearly jumped out of his skin at another voice suddenly sounding from across the table.

"We're ready, doctor."

The man glanced up.

"Alright. It looks like there's some paralysis too. Let's get a scan of his spinal cord before we start."

Then the man mysteriously disappeared from his line of sight and left him with that bombshell.

Paralysis.

Is he just trying to scare me…?

I god damn hope so.

Jim's conclusion that the man was trying to scare him was confirmed when huge unit was suddenly clamped onto the end of the bed, hiding his feet and legs up to his hips in the thing.

"What the hell is that?" he glared at it suspiciously, deciding it probably did nothing but serve as a reminder that he was trapped here with this lunatic.

"Portable scanner," the man said more jubilantly than Jim expected, "It's gonna slowly move across your stomach up to your head. Do not move. I will stand here and do this all day if I have to."

Jim grimaced at the man's threat. That enclosed cube thing made him feel claustrophobic.

As soon as the machine began humming and threateningly slowly making its way up Jim's legs, he decided to distract himself.

"So, I know you, huh?"

Beep-beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep.

"BP just tanked, doctor, I think his heart is beginning to struggle." A female voice said out of Jim's line of sight.

"Yeah. And you'll remember real soon as we can't wait much longer. Not having ya die on me, kid," the man stepped back over to Jim's side, now having a hygienic mask pulled under his chin.

Here's hoping this is all just to scare me.

He didn't know how much longer he wanted to play along when the mask strapped over his own face was quickly switched out to another one, the blue man hovering it over his mouth and nose. This one smelt funny, kind of like whatever it was they had painted onto his belly.

"I can hold it" Jim offered, not liking the feeling of someone having control over what entered his body. He felt so vulnerable, but didn't want to admit it to this lunatic.

"No, you can't. Firstly, you can't even move your arm and secondly, you'll drop the damn thing when you pass out and next thing you know everyone in the room collapses from exposure to anaesthesia."

Jim did his best to frown his disagreement out, but suddenly started feeling really light-headed and floaty. His expression quickly melted into a softened stance.

"There ya go. Breathe this in, real slow now."

Jim grunted under his breath, aware of the feeling of detaching from existence.

The man looked very worried, staring down at him in a caring way that gave Jim a warm feeling in his stomach. But it was weird, because he was sure the man had just kidnapped him.

"Can you really not remember me, Jim?" the man whispered, Jim struggling to bundle the words together with the medication flowing through his system.

Jim paused, but slowly shook his head with great effort, causing the man looming over him to sigh gently and twist his face into something even more heart-breaking.

Who was he?

Jim watched the man above him, lips and arms moving in a demanding fashion, but no sound coming out.

He felt as if he were drifting away, the beeping from monitors becoming quieter and more echoed, the room darkening as a veil drooped over his eyes.

The last thing he saw was the weird man pulling up his mask over his nose before Jim allowed his eyes to close.

Finally, in a state of absolute relaxation, Jim let out a quiet sigh and allowed himself to fall under.

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