Tropicus Sol was an immensely hot planet, resembling a giant rainforest edged by waves of pale sand, hovering on the edge of the Xiatian system as if it was not entirely sure it was supposed to be there. It was lit all year round by a pair of two suns, burning with golden-orange energy that sent rays of scorching heat cascading down onto the planet like waterfalls of light. The planet was especially beautiful during its monsoon season, when the relentless, bullet-hard raindrops caught the suns' glow and played patterns across the thick foliage.
There was nothing particularly remarkable about Tropicus Sol – plenty of planets had multiple suns, and huge rainforests, and an all-year-round tropical climate. It was beautiful, but so were a lot of the planets that James T Kirk had seen. It was, he decided, entirely unextraordinary.
Until today.
Until today, when immense spikes of energy – energy alien to the planet's environment – practically blasted apart the USS Enterprise's scanners, tearing a hole directly down the middle of the monotony the crew had endured for the past three weeks. A big bang in the silent vacuum of the bridge.
"Captain," said Spock, his urgent tone a drastic departure from his usually calm voice, "we're picking up vast energy readings from a planet within the Xiatian system, approximately three point four away."
With those words – the first Spock had spoken since he arrived on the bridge – a rush of emotion ran through Jim's body, and it felt like his internal organs were crashing into each other as he looked over at his science officer's station. "Can you pinpoint the source, Mr Spock?"
"It's definitely one of the outer planets, sir," replied Spock, not looking up from his scanners. "It appears to be Tropicus Sol."
"That's a rainforest planet, sir," offered Sulu from the helm. "Very similar to rainforests on Earth.." his voice trailed off.
The corner of Jim's mouth flicked up in a smile. "Any sentient life?"
"None recorded sir."
"Thank you, Mr Sulu. Mr Chekov, lay in a course for Tropicus Sol. Warp factor three," Jim directed, and Chekov practically launched himself at the controls – a combination of enthusiasm and the fact they'd barely done anything for three weeks straight. "Spock, with me," he continued, pressing his finger to the shipwide communicator at his chair arm. "Will Dr McCoy and ensigns Chang and Flores report to the transporter room," he commanded, rising from the chair as the beginnings of the landing party strode into the turbolift.
Displaying the characteristic efficiency that set the Enterprise crew apart, Bones and both the young ensigns were already in the transporter room by the time Jim, Spock and Sulu arrived, Flores looking eagerly at Spock with unmistakable puppy dog eyes that gave her the air of a lovesick teenager. Oblivious, he walked past her, unblinking.
"Some mission this is," moaned Bones from behind Jim.
"What, you're telling me you aren't into inexplicable energy surges?" grinned Jim, turning to his friend.
"What I'm telling you is that the god damn hobgoblin's getting more action than any of us!" Bones replied, and as if on cue, Uhura shot into the transporter room.
By now, everyone on the Enterprise was accustomed to the ritual that took place between Uhura and Spock whenever one was beaming anywhere the other wasn't. They were also accustomed to the ridiculously long amount of time they spent kissing and cuddling on the transporter pad, whispered promises of return and faithfulness.
Well, nearly everyone.
Jim turned away instinctively as Spock embraced Uhura, whispering words meant only for her. He wondered what it felt like, to be held close by those arms, for those lips to tickle against your ear with words only you could hear. How it felt to be wanted, needed, loved by Spock.
He imagined it was him, not Uhura, standing there, pressed close against Spock's chest, his hands running gently over cheek and neck and shoulder, fingers playing fondly with hair, combing and smoothing it, pressing his lips against the Vulcan's ––
He felt a hand against his shoulder. "You okay, kid?" Bones asked, smiling weakly at Jim, who shook his head vigorously to snap out of it.
"Yeah. Yes." They stepped onto the transporter pad together, and Jim was sure he could feel Spock's eyes on him the whole way. "Reid?" he looked to the ensign operating the transporter. "Beam us down."
The landing party was met with a powerful wall of heat upon arrival, the humidity instantly smashing into them. The air was thick, and Jim caught the edge of an intense floral smell on the dense breeze.
"A nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere, Captain," said Spock. "Remarkably similar to Earth. Breathing should not be difficult."
Jim nodded. "Any major landscapes? Animal colonies we should avoid?"
"I do not believe so, Captain, though there are several species – predominantly in jungle areas. No recorded intelligent life."
Jim turned to the other members of the party. "Bones, Flores, Chang – I want you up the coast. No more than a mile into jungle. See if you can find anything that doesn't belong here.
The effect on them was instantaneous and predictable. Flores's face fell, presumably from being split up from Spock, and Bones instantly rounded on Jim, his brow creased in frustration.
"Jim, you need a medical officer with you! I'm not letting–"
"Mr McCoy," Spock interrupted smoothly, "I believe I have sufficient medical training should anything happen to the captain."
"Oh, oh good, and if something happens to you? What if you fall off a cliff, or get attacked by some bloodthirsty jungle creature? We could find your dehydrated corpses a few hours from now, half-eaten somewhere!" snapped Bones, sending a deathly glare at Spock.
Jim had a sneaking suspicion Bones was trying to make sure he wasn't left alone with Spock. This was the dynamic of their relationship: throwing insults at each other, arguing for the sake of arguing, but with affection at its heart. The arguments themselves were usually caused by Bones's protectiveness of Jim, and Jim's desire to be left alone, unhindered by medical supervision and the constant threat of a hypo to the neck if his behaviour approached recklessness.
"Relax, Bones, we'll be fine. Spock's got me to protect him," replied Jim, grinning. "Report back to me every fifteen minutes, okay? I don't want to be planetside when it gets dark," he instructed them, and as the words came, they summoned images of oversized jungle insects and carnivorous animals with huge claws and gaping mouths filled with rows of fangs.
He imagined the fangs dipped in green blood, and resolved not to let Spock out of his sight.
"Remember, we're looking for something – anything – that could've created energy that doesn't belong here. Keep your phasers set to––"
"Stun," Spock jumped in, quirking a brow when Jim looked at him frustratedly. "It's only logical, captain. There may be creatures of scientific interest. The information on life on this planet is very limited. We may be able to contribute to scientific studies on the system."
Obviously.
~A/N~
So in case you hadn't guessed, Jim is pretty in love with Spock. Spock's with Uhura. Things aren't going great for the captain.
I'm a massive Trek fan but this is my first fic so please bear with me while I get used to writing the characters. Also, I've not got a beta so I've reread and checked this over about three times so if any spelling/grammar mistakes got through please let me know.
Rated M for later chapters + profanity - chapter two very soon!
