A/N: Gracious me. OK. It's been years since I wrote this. I have LEARNED THINGS. MANY THINGS. If you're reading this for the first time, I'll tell you now it's not my best work and it's riddled with errors. I'm considering giving it a huge makeover, rewriting the parts I don't like, and potentially scrapping this altogether.

It's not that it's a bad story. It's just that, knowing all that I know now, I'd be happier if it was better. Ages ago, this was the best I could do. I'm proud that I finished it. It opened a lot of doors for me.

In conclusion, read ahead. Go on. It's not terrible. Let it be known that I'm aware, and I'll probably revamp it and reissue it in a shinier package at a later date. Thank you for taking this time. Now, go on, and experience this blast from the past. (like, 2013 /)

A/N: My Second fic is underway!Yeah! FYI, I don't own any of these characters. Thank you, Gene Roddenberry for creating them and JJ Abrams for adapting them. I just write simple fan-fic, thank you.

Chapter 1: Command Complications

SULU:

Hikaru Sulu had the Conn. He sat in the Captain's chair overlooking the bridge. The hums and whistles of the bridge stations he was used to hearing seemed different from this perspective. They had more meaning, possibly a vast importance to the whole of the ship, instead of an alert to a single department. Everything about the Captain's chair radiated power and duty. Each action, each command could completely alter the Enterprise's mission, or its fate.

To his far right, Mr. Spock sat at his station monitoring… monitoring whatever it was. Radiation? Shields? Sulu could never be sure. It seemed like Spock did his job, part of the Captain's job, and a whole variety of miscellaneous duties one wouldn't normally associate with those of a First Officer. But, Spock did his job and did it well. That was all that Sulu was concerned about. A little ways off behind him, Lt. Uhura monitored subspace frequencies, transmissions, and inter-deck communications. "Communications Officer" summed up the duty pretty well. He was never really confused about Uhura's position, but at the same time, she continued to surprise the bridge crew with hidden talents. Uhura could sing, re-wire a computer console to boost subspace frequencies, and (quite recently, the discovered,) take out an invasion party of Romulans with only her left boot and a hot tray of soup as weapons. No, "communications" hardly described Uhura, or her position aboard the Enterprise. Right now though, she was doing job efficiently as well. Sulu faced the viewing screen once again. He didn't have the concentration skills that his captain could whip out while in the command chair, but Sulu knew he would have to draw from all of his observations to perform this duty.

The Captain was out for the week- Doctor's orders. While headed towards Starbase 6, their next destination, The Enterprise unexpectedly discovered an asteroid belt. Scanners hadn't picked it up initially, and by the time they did it was almost too late. The Captain ordered full stop, slam-on-the-brakes-Mr.-Sulu. Unfortunately, with the fine-tuning and detailed attention Mr. Scott paid to the Enterprise's workings, a full stop meant a full stop. The ship slammed to a halt, throwing several crew members- and Captain Kirk among them- from their posts. Sulu was almost thrown from his own station, but had managed to grip the side of his console before the impact slid him all the way up onto the table. The Captain hadn't been quite so prepared, as he was in the middle of a call to Sickbay (thank goodness for that, the medical crew and Doctor McCoy had been on the scene in record time because of it) and was thrown all the way into the navigation console. He landed headfirst next to Ensign Chekov, who had flipped over the top of his console and landed on the floor mostly unharmed. The collision left Kirk unconscious and heavily concussed. On Dr. McCoy's orders, he was confined to quarters for rest until further notice.

Sulu had the Conn, Lt. Riley was handling navigation while Chekov was on lunch break, and Lt. Kyle had the helm. Everything was proceeding smoothly. Sulu shifted his weight in the Captain's chair. The responsibility of it all was never lost on him. He knew the types of calls he would have to make. He knew the risks and decisions Captain Kirk had left him in charge of. Sulu glanced around the bridge again, out of what he could almost call "nervous habit". Unfortunately for Sulu, Mr. Spock's duties as first-officer on this mission were essential, so his position had been left intact during the Captain's absence. Spock would be cataloguing and examining some of the weapons that survived the maiden (and final) voyage of the USS Vengeance. They had been moved out to Starbase 6 for research shortly after the incident. As far as Sulu knew, Mr. Spock was busying himself by researching and memorizing the inventory and specification details of the arms. In fact, at second glance, everyone on the bridge seemed to be actively working. Everyone except me, he thought. No, Sulu was doing his job just fine. The chair brought more than authority. It gave the occupant a sense of nervous tension, like something could go wrong at any moment. Right now, Sulu was the active watchdog, safeguarding the Enterprise through his alertness.

He was wide awake and alert when Mr. Spock made an unexpected report.

"Captain, the sensors are showing an intense field of radiation several hundred thousand kilometers ahead of our position. I am detecting gamma radiation at the center of the event, which is rapidly increasing in size. Along the path of our current course, we should arrive at the phenomenon in approximately 3.72 minutes."

Sulu sat forward in the chair. "Helm, bring us out of warp. I want to come up on this thing on impulse power. Full shields, screens up. I don't want to take any chances after the asteroid incident." All stations complied. A thought suddenly occurred to him: There may be something wrong with the scanners. They hadn't picked up the asteroid belt until it was almost too late, and now they registered an unknown pattern of radiation from just several hundred thousand kilometers away. Something just wasn't right here, and Sulu was not going to risk The Enterprise for anything.

"We are closing in on the event, Captain." Mr. Spock reported from his post.

"Thank you, Mr. Spock. Can we get a visual onscreen?"

"Not yet, Captain. A few thousand kilometers more and it will be within range."

"All right. Continue helm. Quarter speed."

The Enterprise moved forward at what seemed like a snail's pace compared to the speed of normal space travel. Sulu had his eyes fixed on the screen. Soon, whatever this was would come within range. In a few moments, they would be coming right up on-

"Captain! We've picked up a ship on the scanners. It does not appear to have come out of warp recently."

Sulu raised his eyebrows. "A ship? Can we get a visual on it?"

"Right away, sir."

The picture came into focus almost at once. There is was, a far-off starship framed by a swirling pink cloud that crackled with electricity. The radiation. That cloud must be its source… or at least its effect… Sulu took a closer look at the ship. Though incredibly small onscreen, it appeared to be a Federation ship, and not in very good condition either.

"What's the status of that ship? Do they have life support? Comms? Lieutenant Uhura, try hailing them, all frequencies. Alert sickbay as well. We may be dealing with casualties. Contact Mr. Scott in engineering and have him stand by. If there are any survivors, they may have to be beamed over."

Uhura went straight to her task. Hailing frequencies opened. Sickbay was alerted. Engineering stood by.

"Can we get a better look at the ship? Increase zoom factor to four-hundred percent."

"Not possible, Captain." Sulu heard the murmured "Fascinating" from the First Officer's station. "I do not know why, but the viewing screen is not responding to my input. However, my scanners are functioning correctly. Their life support appears to be operative, Captain. The warp drive appears to be offline, and the ship is running on emergency power. The cause of their distress is still unknown."

"Thank you, Mr. Spock. Uhura? Any response from the ship? Do we know who they are?"

Uhura tapped several buttons at her station and held a hand to her earpiece. "Yes, Captain, we have established contact. The ship encountered the radiation event with malfunctioning shields; apparently they've lost primary power and several other systems-…"

Sulu turned to look at Uhura. Her unexpected pause was followed by full silence on the bridge. Everyone, including the acting Captain, was focused on her. Sulu began to notice the change that had come over her features. Uhura seemed shocked, frightened, and puzzled all at the same time.

"Lieutenant…?"

Uhura shook herself out of her trance. "Sorry Captain. I... I didn't quite believe it at first but… It appears we've made contact with the USS Kelvin. They're… They're requesting to transport their Chief Medical Officer, First Officer, and some other personnel over to discuss repairs and our plans for assistance. I know it's an irregular procedure, but they're insisting." Uhura fell silent again for a moment, but began again quickly. "The Kelvin is requesting to meet you, our First Officer, and Medical Officer in the transporter room. They…." Uhura looked Sulu right in the eye when she relayed the last part of the communication. "They're beaming over their Captain."

Sulu whirled back around and leapt out of the Captain's chair. "Mr. Kyle! Take the Conn. Mr. Spock, Lieutenant, with me. Someone call Sickbay and tell Dr. McCoy to meet us down there!" The three of them dashed to the lift and began their descent to the transporter room.

CHEKOV:

Ensign Pavel Andrevich Chekov was in his quarters enjoying lunch. Today, he had soup. The steaming bowl of hot Chicken Noodle sat patiently on the table while Chekov rooted through his cabinets for a good napkin. A package of crackers lay unopened on the table, ready and waiting for a swim in the creamy soup. The silverware was all present and accounted for. "Aha!" Chekov pulled a nice white napkin from the mess of assorted fabrics in the cabinet. The shirts, civvies, and tablecloths would have to be organized later. Right now, it was time for lunch. The young Ensign enjoyed an occasional quiet lunch in his quarters, free from the ruckus and gossip of the mess hall. Not that he didn't enjoy some friendly gossip. Any good story floating around the Enterprise today would be eagerly re-hashed by his crewmembers later on. He took his seat and scooted the chair up close to the table, almost to the point where his ribs met metal. Chekov folded the napkin and placed it to one side. He reached for the package of crackers and carefully tore open one end. Chekov removed a few of the squares from the wrapping and crushed them over the top of the bowl. He stirred the saltines and soup together with his spoon.

"Ah. Now here is a delicious lunch!" He was about to dig in, when someone buzzed for him at the door. Chekov decided that whoever it was could probably conduct their business over lunch. He lifted a spoonful toward his mouth, called "Come" to his visitor, and then slurped his much anticipated soup. The door slid open, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the familiar outline of Dr. McCoy approaching the table. Chekov reached for the napkin with his free hand. "Doctor McCoy! What a pleasant surprise! What brings you by—"

A hand clamped over his face, smothering his greeting. Chekov released the spoon just as something stabbed sharply into the side of his neck. He brought up his hands to fight off his attacker, but his strength died in the motion. He drew a deep breath through his nose so he could attempt to call for help, but the effort died in his lungs. A dense fog rapidly encroached on his vision. Chekov's lungs released the panicked breath as he fell sideways to the ground. In his last moments of consciousness, he heard, impossibly, the voice of Dr. McCoy.

"Good thing you didn't shout. Shouting would've made things... difficult. Y'know, I always hated you, kid. Overly-ambitious, maniacal, Russian smart-alec."

The voice seemed wrong though. It was much harsher and colder than the McCoy he knew. Chekov felt himself being hauled up by one arm and dragged out into the corridor before he lost consciousness completely.

Gasp! Whatever will happen? Please post review and tell me what I did or didn't do right so I can fix it!