Title: New life and new civilizations

Summary: Six months after the destruction of Vulcan, Captain Kirk and crew are given their first real mission aboard the Enterprise. When long-range sensors pick up a faint distress call in the Neutral Zone, no expects what they find…

Rating: T for language. There will be a pre-slash relationship built here, but there will be NO overt sex, I just don't do that.

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek. All non-OC characters, sets, ships, etc. are property of Gene Rodenberry, J.J. Abrams, or someone who isn't me.

"Arriving at Navigation Point Alpha Captain; dropping out of warp in three, two, one." Jim felt the ever so subtle shift as the Enterprise cut her warp engines. Looking out the bridge window he saw nothing but stars; it was disconcerting to know that less than a light-year from where they sat was the neutral zone.

"Mr. Chekov, activate long-range sensors, I want to know what's out there. Lieutenant Uhura, start scanning all known frequencies, see if we hear anything." Jim rubbed his eyes. Less than twenty-four hours ago his biggest responsibility was successfully transporting a dozen glorified tractors; now he was among a select group of ships and captains tasked with providing the first line of defense for the Federation. "Mr. Sulu, set a standard patrol course, full impulse."

"Aye, Captain." The three of them chorused. The rendezvous with the Clinton and the Ulysses could have gone better, he supposed, but really, it couldn't be helped. It still rankled him that nearly every officer in Starfleet treated him and his crew as neophytes, but he had taken a certain vindictive pleasure in detailing Sulu and Chekov's experience to the captain of the Clinton when he had offered his own officers to make up for the Enterprise's lack of experience.

"Excellent, Mr. Spock, you have the conn." Kirk stood from his chair and nodded to his first; receiving the slightly raised eyebrow he had termed the 'if you wish, sir' glance. Stepping into the turbolift, Jim made his way back to his quarters. Making a beeline for the replicator, ordered another large black coffee (his fifth or sixth, he wasn't sure) before sitting behind his desk.

Looking past the pile of PADDs he was supposed to be reviewing and looked about his quarters. They were bigger than the two-man suite at the academy he shared with Bones, and, yet, after six months they still didn't feel like home. The walls were blank and unadorned, he had gotten rid of that god-awful Starfleet-issue painting the minute he had set his gear down, even his desk bore only the necessary equipment. Sighing heavily, he turned back to the PADDs on his desk, slowly reading through Scotty's report on some engine maintenance he had performed, unable to shake the niggling feeling that something was missing in his life.

It was several hours later that the gentle ring of the door caused Jim to look up from his work. The pile of PADDs had grown slightly smaller.

"Enter." He called, setting his stylus down on the desk. Spock stood in the doorway, chess board in one hand, black metal case in the other, a questioning eyebrow raised. Jim smiled widely and waved Spock in; their friendship, though still forming, was growing stronger over the unlikely game. Spock had been surprised to learn that Jim played the game and was even more surprised when Jim's chaotic and illogical style of play had completely decimated him during their first match.

"Thank you Captain. I trust your evening has been…productive?" Spock glanced at the piles on Jim's desk.

"It's Jim, Spock. We're not on duty, call me Jim." He walked over to the replicator, retrieving two cups of tea as Spock set up the board. The two men settled into companionable silence and began their game. The first matches they had played were marked with ruthless bravado more than anything else, each man trying to prove his skills to the other. Now their games were more about companionship and conversation than anything else. Their conversations had extended to personal beliefs as much as ship's duty.

Jim sipped his tea, watching the game before him unfold. Leaning forward, he swiftly made his move, taking one of Spock's rooks in the progress, and settled back in his chair. Spock merely raised an eyebrow before sipping his own tea, considering the board. A gentle, but incessant, ring came from the small comm. Terminal on Jim's desk.

"Bridge to Captain Kirk." Uhura's voice rang through the quiet quarters. Kirk pressed the audio response switch.

"What is it lieutenant?" he said, watching as Spock moved his queen to a very inconvenient place.

"We're picking up a distress signal, very weak and fading fast." Jim set his mug down on the desk.

"Where?" He asked. A small ball of dread was forming in his stomach; he was fairly certain of the answer.

"In the neutral zone sir." Spock's face snapped from the chess board to the comm. station. Jim stared wistfully at the unfinished game.

"On my way."

"Report." Kirk stepped off the turbolift and made a beeline to his chair; he could feel Spock behind him proceed to his station.

"Keptan, three minutes ago long range sensors picked up a distress signal from an unknown wessel located two light years within the neutral zone." Chekov said from his station. Kirk could feel everyone on the bridge looking at him.

"What's in the transmission?" He turned to Uhura.

"Nothing, sir. Just a series of updating coordinates tracing the ship's location. The signal is growing weaker with each broadcast." She said, staring intently at her station, constantly fine-tuning the signal.

"Is it drifting towards us or the Klingons?"

"Towards the Klingons captain." Uhura looked up from her station, locking eyes with Kirk. He could see slight fear hidden behind the determination. Turning to face his first, Kirk let the unspoken question drift between them.

"This region of the neutral zone is not known for Klingon incursions or probes. It is logical, however, that they regularly patrol their side of the neutral zone much as Starfleet does, captain." Spock locked eyes with his captain; both of them felt an odd sense of déjà vu. Kirk squared his shoulders and turned back to the viewer. Somewhere out there was a crippled ship begging for help, followed by dozens of Klingon warships just waiting to blast him from the stars.

"Mr. Chekov," he said finally, "are you picking up any near-by ships?"

"No, Keptan. The nearest wessel is the USS Kodiak in the next patrol zone." Chekov replied.

"Very well; Mr. Chekov, sound red alert. Mr. Sulu, lay in an intercept course, maximum warp." Red lights flashed throughout the ship. The turbolift doors flew open as crewmen rushed to fill their stations on the bridge; Kirk could imagine more people running through the bowels of the Enterprise just as they had practiced dozens of times before, only this time it was for real.

"Course laid in Captain." Sulu said, his hand hovering over the warp drive controls.

"Punch it." The familiar hum of the warp drive, always a constant background in a starship, spun up as the Enterprise readied herself for warp speed. Sulu's hand rested on the controls for a second before slamming the ship into warp.

The jump to the crippled ship took only a minute, but it seemed to drag on forever. Kirk watched his bridge crew; all of them were at the stations, focused on their work. Chekov's hands flew over his displays, constantly scanning for the enemy. He couldn't help but smile to himself, despite the worries of the Admiralty, the crew of the Enterprise was performing at peak performance. What waited for them, god only knew, but he knew the Enterprise could handle it.

"We're nearing the signal's location Captain, dropping out of warp in five seconds." Sulu smoothly slid the ship out of warp, coming to a halt in the middle of the neutral zone.

"Mr. Chekov, anything?" Kirk leaned forward, resting his elbows on his chair, muscles tensed.

"Negative, Keptan. The only ships in the area are us and the unknown, three thousand meters directly ahead." The ensign replied.

"On screen." Kirk stared at the viewer. On the screen was a ship unlike anything he had ever seen. It was small, some kind of shuttle, and the hull had been riddled with disruptor fire. It had a long, cylindrical core, a large wing cut through the rear of the shuttle with two tall fins to either side of the main hull. The starboard wing had been completely sheared off at the base while the port wing had been shot off half way down. "Life signs?" Kirk asked, not taking his eyes from the unknown ship.

"Unclear Captain," Spock responded, "sensors are picking up a variety of signals. I am reading one definite life sign, but it is extremely weak, but there may be others."

"What about the atmosphere?"

"It conforms to class M standards." Kirk considered his options, beaming over to the shuttle would be dangerous, not only was it structurally unsound, but it would require them to lower their shields. Drumming his fingers on the armrest, he finally came to a decision.

"Mr. Sulu, bring us about so the ship lies one hundred meters aft of the shuttle bay. Mr. Chekov, as soon as we reach station, extend the aft shields around the ship." He activated the comm. link in his chair, "Mr. Scott?"

"Aye Captain?" Scotty replied after a moment.

"We're going to pull an unknown, heavily damaged ship into the hangar bay. As soon as I signal, I want you to grab it with the tractor beam and bring her in."

"Aye Captain, on my way." Kirk could just imagine the enthusiastic Scotsman running through the ship.

"Captain," Spock looked up from his station, one eyebrow raised, "spreading our shields far enough to engulf the unknown vessel will weaken them to sixty percent normal strength, an ill-advised maneuver in our current situation. Furthermore, it is highly dangerous to bring an unknown vessel aboard the Enterprise and is a violation of-"

"Mr. Spock, I understand your concerns," Kirk cut him off mid sentence, "but the fact remains that in order to beam the survivors aboard would require us to lower our shields, an action I am unwilling to take, given that we're in the middle of the neutral zone with who knows how many Klingon cruisers a dozen light years away who would like nothing more than to light us up like a god-damned Christmas tree!" Kirk locked glares with his first, his usual humor was gone. Seconds ticked by as the tension on the bridge grew, this was the first serious test of their friendship.

"Given the parameters your actions are…logical." Spock nodded finally.

"Right…right." The bridge warmed slightly. "Sulu, let's go; the sooner we get this thing the sooner we can get the hell out of here."

Kirk kept his eyes glued to the viewer as Sulu brought the Enterprise up and over the wrecked shuttle. Sulu and Chekov worked in tandem, bringing the ship to station keeping and extending the shields to cover her. He glanced at Spock; he had taken over the long range sensors while Chekov worked with Sulu to bring the shuttle in. The Vulcan looked up from his station and gave a small shake of his head; they were safe for now.

"We're in position Captain." Sulu finally said.

"Mr. Scott, bring her in." Kirk said to the comm.

"Aye Captain, three minutes." Scotty's voice echoed in the massive cavern that was the shuttle bay.

"Sulu, as soon as he gets that ship in the bay, get us the hell out of here."

A/N: Thanks everyone for the reviews! Here's the next chapter, and things will pick up from here, I promise. Like before, this is unbeta-ed so far, so any and all mistakes are mine, so sorry. As always