It was cold. Perishing. The air held a metallic sting, the surface beneath her felt hard and raw, her chilled body locked in place for sheer preservation. Nyota's eyes began to open, her vision was blurred, her head throbbed and muscles clenched at the cold. Her own hand came into focus before her as her field of vision was clouded mostly by darkness, sudden sparks of light burst around her, and wisps of smoke were illuminated by broken lights. She was on the floor, in pain, cold, and barely able to remember a thing. As she blinked her surroundings back into life, her senses swam back to her, foggy but inexcusable.
The consoles in the room around her flared, broken and irreparable. It was dark, bar the odd spark and the effort of one of the rooms lights flickering hopelessly. In the distance, the faded wail of an alarm rang out. As Nyota sat up, she wrapped her arms around herself tightly, eyes scouring the devastation of the ship she was on.
They were on a roaming class ship, on an targeted exploration just outside the Laurentian system. Minimal crew, all officers, some Enterprise personnel, some Apollo and some Sterling. The crew made up Twenty-four people in total, but all of whom Nyota cared about.
She sat, looking at the wreckage, and couldn't remember what happened. Flashes erupted through her mind; explosions, weapon fire, raised voices and barked orders. Consoles blared and alarms activated. Everything had gone wrong. This room was small and she was alone. Looking over her shoulder, the automatic doors had ceased to function, stuck half open, the frame bent out of shape with exposed wires spilling sparks to the metal floor. Down the corridor, more devastation loomed beneath the darkness, outlines of bodies lay in the cold.
Carefully, Nyota took a breath and got herself to her feet, steadying herself on the debris of a chair. She was cold, ached with numerous cuts and bruises, but seemed largely unscathed. Her breath fell in clouds before her as she focused on the low, guttural hum of the ship. Whatever power was left, auxiliary or otherwise was still functioning, but slowly failing, life support wouldn't hold out much longer if it was already this cold. Cautiously moving forward, she assessed the comm. screens were cracked and yet even though fractured energy was still powering parts of the console, nothing was responsive or useable. There was no way any of this equipment would be able to establish contact to anyone.
She shivered. Cold seeping through her skin. Dressed in her starfleet reds and boots, her exposed legs prickled with the cold. She needed to find something warmer or she would freeze to death. Nyota made her way toward the doors, carefully avoiding the broken cables and slipping through the gap. She steeled herself as she moved forward down the corridor, she could feel her heart beginning to thump in her chest with the anxiety of what she might face in this devastation. She gently clasped a hand to her face as she approached a body on the ground. Lieutenant Green. She crouched by the man who lay face down, motionless. She touched his arm, nudging him before feeling his neck. His skin was cold, and no sign of life fluttered beneath it.
Nyota sniffed and rose quickly to her feet, exhaling a shaky breath at what else was to come. She peered through the shadows down the corridor.
"You're coming right? I'd be lost without my best linguistics officer."
Kirks voice echoed in her head, a flash of his smile, his eyes, his charm and excitement. She walked forward, past another body, too covered by debris to be identifiable. Tears began to pool in her eyes, she sniffled again.
"There is plenty of information to suggest that this will be a worthwhile avenue of exploration." Nyota remembered Spock's words. "On a personal note, it is an avenue I would like to explore with you by my side."
The sound of the alarm was getting louder. Another broken door stood between the corridor and the bridge of the little ship, but these doors were almost closed. There was not enough space for Nyota to squeeze in, even with her slender frame. She peered through the gap onto the bridge, panic rising further in her.
"Captain?!" She shouted. "Spock?!"
Wiping her nose on her sleeve, she exhaled a cloud of air, slotting her palms in the gap between the doors and using all her might to try to heave the doors open.
She groaned, the doors budged an inch. Switching her angle slightly and pushing again, they moved a little further. Nyota exhaled, letting her arms drop, aching, feeling a pain shoot through her left shoulder, she grimaced. She would need a leverage of some kind. Scanning the area, further down the corridor a large part of the wall had taken a beating, and on the floor amongst the debris lie a crooked length of metal railing. Picking up the cold tube, she returned to the door, wedging it like a crow-bar and leaning her weight into it.
The doors gave way, metal railing falling from her grasp and clattering on the cold floor. Hopping through the gap, Nyota stepped onto the bridge, tears wet her eyes as she rubbed her left shoulder.
Bodies lay strewn around the room. Draped over consoles, on the floor, some under debris. Through the darkness, and flickering light, Nyota noticed the body of a person all to familiar collapsed on the floor.
"Spock!"
She rushed to him, putting aside her own pains.
"Spock, Spock." She knelt beside him, touching his shoulders, tears falling helplessly down her cheeks. "Spock wake up, Spock! Can you hear me? Please."
Desperately, she checked him for signs of life, but he was motionless. In the minimal light she noticed his right leg trapped under large pieces of the ceiling that had caved in. Green blood caught the flickering light, she noticed how it pooled out from under him.
A sob wracked her as she tilted him to see his face, skin wax-like and drained. She nuzzled his hair.
"Please Spock, no." She sobbed, managing a whisper. "I love you."
A sudden noise caught her attention, a cough like splutter. Raising her head slightly from Spock's, she looked across the floor under the dented view-screen for the source, making out another figure laying, trapped under more debris. A difficult groan escaped them.
Nyota found her feet wobbly, and moved quickly to the person on the ground. It was Kirk.
"Jim?"
Another groan was her response. Frantically she looked about the debris, it blocked half the screen, covering him. A console and the wall sandwiching him in. Carefully, she climbed over the pieces of broken console, finding a spot where she could get to him. He was in a bad way, crushed worse than Spock, the heavy debris staunching his blood flow causing him to bleed out far slower than normal. Nyota looked about the blood, his stained clothes. His lips and teeth stained from internal bleeding, trickling down his cheek. A torturous death. He tried to gasp for air, Nyota found his hand.
"I'm here Jim, it's okay." She hushed him. It wasn't okay. Everything was far from okay, but what the hell do you say to a person with seconds left to live? She could feel him trying to squeeze her hand, but he had no strength.
"I-… I'm sorry…" He managed, barely a whisper.
Nyota stifled a sob and gently shook her head as she held his gaze, watching his focus drift and the light fade from his eyes. He was gone.
Nyota didn't know how long she sat there, holding his hand, numb as tears poured down her face at the devastation around her. Kirks hand was cold in hers now, she gently let him go, laying his palm across his chest and closing his eyes.
The ship still hummed, but it was getting colder. She needed to get to the supplies room, she needed a space suit, and somehow, she needed to contact home.
Moving across the small bridge, she found her communications post amongst the wreckage. Nyota flicked the switches, tapped the screens, pressed all buttons and entered all sequences she could think of and finally, a garbled alert sound greeted her, she activated the microphone.
"This is a distress signal from the roaming explorer, the USS Enlightenment." She reported. "We are damaged, beyond repair, with multiple fatalities. Auxiliary power is failing. Life support is failing. Last know coordinates; 498.876.539. Urgent help needed."
The comm crackled, she entered the emergency distress signal and sent it, hoping, praying that it sent, that it worked, that it had enough warped energy left in it to put out the flare.
Nyota felt rigid with cold. She flexed her fingers and knees, making a move toward the bridge doors, looking back on the room, the bodies, the people she loved, dead. Wiping her eyes as she left, she made her way toward finding the supplies room.