I have ten thousand words of this story typed out. Guys, 2016 Star Trek 3.

If you like this, let me know, also I have original stories free to read on Inkitt.

The ship rattled, more so than what was usual for mere turbulence. The vast darkness of space glowed with sparks of lightning.

Red lights flashed. The system was informing its occupants that there were several leaks in the vessel. The ship was designed to be flexible. Allowing it to handle the changes within each galaxy. Which meant that the ship was being compressed beyond what it could handle. A complete anomaly.

Despite locking the chambers, there was a good chance that the ship wouldn't be habitable before long. There was only so much you could do.

"Spock!" A female voice gasped.

The condition of their spacecraft was alarming. Spock knew that the likelihood of inhabiting this ship would potentially cause death. Compared to the slightly better situation presented if they abandon their vehicle. Despite this knowledge, no one ever really wanted to abandon something that they had put years of effort into. This ship had taken twenty years to complete. Most of that were making up for the growth in technology within the years it took to build it.

The real task was to let go of the ego's desire in order to place oneself in the best possible situation for survival. Thankfully Spock's culture valued logical reasoning beyond all else.

"Sir, should we proceed to the escape pods?" Chel asked. She was an engineer aboard the ship. Although the vessel was almost fully automated. It could most likely run on its own even if it's inhabitants were long gone.

"Yes," Spock replied in his native tongue. Spock was head of their operation. He was considered to have above average intelligence on their home planet. Which was a feat considering the advanced intelligence of their species. He sometimes wondered if there was a limit the brain of a life form.

Spock had nothing to lose materialist wise if he were to perish. Although he hadn't lived long for that of his species, he could say that he was fulfilled. On his home planet, he could be satisfied. But he traded a long and satisfying life for one of fulfillment in exchange for the risk of death.

Chel typed in the evacuation sequence on her transmission device. The warning system proceeded to tell it's occupants that evacuation had been approved for commencement. There was an air of relief from crew members. They had a much better chance of making it home in a pod than they did pushing their luck on this ship.

Chel and Spock stood up from their seats to head over to the pods. They said their goodbyes before calmly putting on the equipment as per instructed. Spock found great displeasure in being frozen, but the pods were too small for the technology needed to commence wormhole travel. He sighed, hoping it wouldn't take too many years to be retrieved from his capsule.

Once he was sure that he put on all of his equipment properly. He checked his vital signs to ensure that he would go into comatose successfully.

The system told him that despite his high heart rate, he was ready for rapid nitrogen freezing. Spock could hear the capsule next to his launch, and he realized that he was stalling the imminent. While he tried to breathe normally, he pressed the button to begin freezing.

Spock took a moment to think about his mate back on his home planet. Her brown hair and big almond eyes were outstanding features he could remember crisply. He wondered if he would ever see her again. Afterall. He could be frozen for an eternity.

Lights blinked in his now dark was a ten-second countdown before he was washed in darkness. The last thing he heard was a buzz letting him know that the timer was up.