Spock's first conscious thought is that it hurts.

The flutter of his eyelashes and the twitching of his fingers spark up the synapses in his brain as he takes stock of his bodily functions. His vision blurs the more he tries to focus on his surroundings and it is with great effort that he blinks himself steadily back into awareness.

''Damn fool hobgoblin! Organs in the all the wrong places! What a southern fucking miracle that I managed to stitch him back up Chris.''

Spock knows this voice. The rough edges and low grumbles carry around the room. A comforting noise despite the insults and veiled concerned.

''Jesus. What a mess.'' Pike laments as he heads for the door rubbing at his three day stubble. The rasping of his beard against his palm noisy in the quiet of the hospital room.

''Tell me you you've got an update or a location… or some sort of plan for getting her back.''

''Knowing her, I'll bet she's elbow deep in whatever cockamamie scheme of her own. She'll get out of this. She always does. We just need to be there to pick her up.'' A sad but tired smile forms on the man's lips as he nods his farewell. The CMO shakes his head at the admiral.

''Goddammit Jim.''

Upon hearing Jim's name, Spock's entire body stiffens and a growl escapes his throat. His eidetic memory plays the moment of her abduction over and over again in startling clarity. His heart speeds up alongside the rhythm of his all-consuming rage.

Jim! T'hy'la!

''Spock! Calm down! You'll undo everything I've done to keep you alive!'' McCoy cries as he places both hands on the Vulcans shoulders and pushes with all his might to get him to lie back down.

Spock reaches up to the doctor, his fingers aiming to tighten over the spot that would incapacitate him but having watched him do this far too often - Bones simply ducks out of the way and Spock slumps back down clutching at his chest with a groan.

''If you try that shit with me again Spock, I'm gonna give you a hypo so big even your ancestors will feel the sting. Now stop moving and take a damn breath man.''

It takes him what feels like eons to gather and merge all his emotions back behind the confines of his shields. The overwhelming panic gradually subsiding and a stuttering of logic bubbles on the surface of his thoughts. ''Where is Jim, Doctor McCoy?'' he focuses on his breathing, willing his heart to slow, his mind to calm and to maintain rationality.

''We're on her trail Spock…as much as we can be that is. '' McCoy wipes a hand down his face and hums before taking a seat opposite the hospital bed.

''We have done our best to follow the trails - the breadcrumbs per say - that the ship started oozing out once it left space dock. The stations defence turrets managed to damage one of its nacelles before it warped outta there and Chekov has been digging around in that genius brain of his and calculated their trajectory.''

''We have one … one of the most advanced ships in the entirety of Star Fleet. How have we not caught them?'' A quizzical eyebrow asks, Spock's breathing laboured and Bones harrumphs at the display before administering another hypo to open the Vulcans lungs.

''I'm a doctor, not a physicist… I don't know the ins and outs of warp core mechanics and accounting for anomalies but I do know that every time we get close - their ship warps outta there in anyway which direction and all our calculations have to start again. Chekov may only be seventeen but he's about a day away from looking fifty.''

''How long has Jim been missing?'' A frightful flutter of his heart indicates that he is afraid to hear the answer but he presses the issue by asking again. ''How long?''

''Three days now, coming up on four.'' The doctor's face is grim; the stooped curve of his shoulders round with worry.

Spock attempts once again to vacate the hospital bed but a stern look from McCoy whose hand is twitching ominously in his left pocket- makes him reconsider his actions.

'Of course I know she's alive. It's Jim. I'd eat my boots before ever thinking some cultist lunatic could kill her.'' The words are said jovially but fall flat when the doctor can produce no smile alongside it.

''I would speak to Ensign Chekov at his earliest convenience so that may we may extrapolate the Captains' whereabouts sooner rather than later.'' His voice is stern despite its frailty and McCoy sighs, giving in.

''Ok, but you keep that green blooded backside of yours in that biobed. I mean it. Whatever reports or tests that you need to do – you either do it from this bed or you get someone else to do it. When we get Jim back you better be alive to meet her in the transporter room.''

He is left alone with his thoughts, the doctor having tiredly trudged out of the room after performing a final scan and handing him a small glass of water to quench his thirst. He has contacted Pavel and the rest of his team asking them to bring him all the information they have on the vessel that absconded with Jim and what plans they had in place for getting her back. The numerous datapads he was handed now litter the bed by his feet but he finds that he cannot concentrate on the data before him. He would need to enter a healing trance first to repair the damage that the doctor could not.

His fingers around the glass tighten as he attempts to enter a healing trance but his concern for his mate infects every attempt. The glass creaks from the pressure and he hastily puts it down on the table beside him before clasping his hands together upon his chest.

The pain is biting at him, a burning sensation that lingers after each breath and swirls around his upper body before repeating itself with his next one. It does not take much effort to close his weary eyes and upon doing so he steps through and onto the plain of his mindscape searching for any sign of his T'hy'la.

The oasis that represents her is further away than he would have liked. His bare feet move swiftly across the sands, bypassing the bridges of his mind without giving any thought to attending the cracks showing in his shields – visible proof that he was not at his best. The heat from the sands of Vulcan calm his racing heart and he pauses but one moment to wish for his mother's guidance.

His sole concern was to reach the glowing orb in the middle of the pool to ascertain if Jim was still alive and well but upon reaching the borders of the lush green grass he is deeply disturbed at the change in scenery.

Brown patches of dying foliage litter the pools surface and where once there was nothing but crystal clear blue water, the contents are now dark and muddy. The waterfall has ceased to flow and the lack of the familiar rhythm of insects and bird noises leave the oasis eerily quiet. The temperature has dropped dramatically in the short step it has taken him to cross from his mindscape into hers and the world around him darkens to night.

There is still life within but it was dulled, quieted in to an unnatural state. He wades into the pool cautiously, the white of his robe suck up the water and turn brown from the sludge that his feet kick up. It is difficult to walk without losing balance, the surface beneath his feet uneven and slippery, his robe weighing him down the deeper he travels within.

Spock curses softly and removes the heavy garment, pulling it wetly from his shoulders, exposing his upper body to the cold and leaving it to float uselessly behind him. Jim's essence is still glowing faintly beneath the murky waters, a fleck of gold here and there shining through the cracks in the mud and reflecting around the rocks from the moons light.

He is overcome by relief that she is still alive and peers over it to study the orb more intently for signs of damage.

He sees the same cracks in the golden glow that have appeared on his own shields. She is alive but not at optimal health. She is alive but in great distress.

He had to help her. In any way he could.

However…

In doing so he would do something which could potentially terminate their relationship before it had even begun.

He could put them through so much pain they both would want to die.

Or…

Surak, perhaps it would be the best thing to ever happen to either of them and fill them with so much joy that the mere sight and thought of each other would be enough to carrying on fighting, to carry on living no matter the situation.

It could bring love and happiness that no language in any known or unknown universe could ever accurately describe.

He could bond with her. Without her permission. To save her life.

He knows what could happen should he reach down and touch it. He knows that their minds, being as compatible as they are, could instantaneously merge and become one. He hesitates. A deep breath is pulled down into his chest before he reaches down slowly with his right hand, two fingers outstretched.

He hesitates again.

She would be very, very angry.

But she would be alive.

She would live.

Four hours earlier

Jim was at this moment stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Did she sneak up on the two men with their backs turned to her who were so rudely blocking the corridor down to the shuttle bay?

Or did she find another way back down the service ladders and potentially come across more than two people and end up being caught?

Biting her lower lip she rolls her eyes at her own indecision. Being pregnant complicated matters so damn much! If she weren't pregnant - she would have had her boot so far up one of the guy's ass that her toes would have tickled his tonsils.

Never one for sticking to a plan she suddenly felt stifled by her pregnancy.

Great…! Now she felt guilty!

She sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose hoping for this latest mood swing to pass and piss off quickly.

Goon one is leaning against the wall while goon two appears to be doing a sort of shuffle-sway on the spot, no doubt restless from the constant but stationary patrol. She sneaks up as quietly as she can; her over large boots clunky and feeling unfamiliar forcing her to take extra care as she approaches Goon One.

Before he realises what's happening she has elbowed the side of his head straight into the wall with an almighty bang. He falls to the floor with a whine and passes out. The second goon spins to face her in confusion and she uses this to her advantage. She plants a full fist square into his jaw before grabbing with both hands onto his collar. Bringing him down to her level Jim knees him in the stomach. A final blow to the back of the neck with her elbow when he doubles over from shock and pain and he is out cold.

Does nobody carry guns on this ship?!

A furious search through their pockets produces nothing but some lint, a ration card and what must be their versions of a credit chip. Utterly useless. She knows she should hide the bodies but having just exerted an extraordinary amount of effort in incapacitating them she didn't want to push it in case she found herself completely unable to move when it really mattered.

Jim's limbs were still shaking, the cold still biting at her feet despite the thick rubber encasing them and she rubbed her chest quickly hoping the friction would get her body up a few degrees and also calm her adrenaline. She spared a thought for her baby but quickly snapped back into Captain Mode as she assessed her next move.

Lady luck must be on my side today!

Jim spots a few obscure marking on the wall to her left and with glee realises it's a map of the ship. Crew quarters, Bridge, Engine room. It was a simplistic map and looks to have been scrawled on the wall with some sort of chalk. Perhaps the goons she had knocked out weren't familiar with the ship and were trying to memorise their surroundings.

She follows the small markings with her index finger, careful not to smudge the mediocre blue plans and plots a quick route through to her destination. She would have to take the next corridor to her left and head past the bridge in order to access a ladder and skirt around medbay to the shuttle bay.

It was a dangerous route, but the quickest one off the ship. She would give anything to run into that slimy bastard Prince- but she knew realistically that it would be best to avoid detection. She would simply get back on board her lovely lady, arm her photon torpedoes and blow this piece of shit to kingdom come.

Gods, she missed Spock.

Lifting her head to check around her one last time before moving on, she had just enough time to duck and roll before a phaser shot heated the top of her head and she winced as she smelled the cloying stink of burning hair.

''Captain, My Captain. You do have a penchant for getting yourself into trouble don't you. Had you just stayed where you were I would have been lenient and tolerant of your attitude but you've taken aggressive measures against my men…what is that earth saying? Ah… Tit for tat, I believe.''

He fires in her direction again and the ships lights go haywire as yellow alert sounds due to detecting a phaser being discharged inside. Jim tucks herself behind the corner of the wall and huffs a quick laugh at the knife in her hand.

What the fuck was she going to do about this then?

''Piss off you creepy old man! Tit for tat my ass. You're damn lucky I don't have a phaser. Unlike you I never miss!''

Jim slams her back against the wall moving further inside the hall when the next shot melts the metal next to her ear and she curses knowing she would have to make a run for it. She sees her exit ahead of her to the right but for the five seconds it would take for her to get there she would be in his line of fire.

She leaps from the corner of the wall, her hands outstretched as she folds herself into a ball. Ass going over her head and back again as she miraculously rolls and dives into her intended corridor and escapes being hit from his next shot. She makes a dash for it as fast as she can, no longer caring about the thunderous thuds of her shoes or the funky smell of her shirt or the clawing pangs of hunger.

All she needed to do was focus on getting out.

''James, my pet… come back so we can discuss this like civilised beings. There is nowhere to run. I assume your plan was to head to shuttle bay and pilot a shuttle away from my ship? I hate to disappoint you but we keep no shuttles or escape pods down there. If this ship is in danger I'm afraid the only one who will leave here is me.''

SHIT SHIT SHIT!

She hears him approaching fast behind her, his own thudding boot sounds echoing around the tinny walls and she dashes to her left before hitting the access panel to the nearest room.

FUCKING JACKPOT!

Armoury. Thankyouthankyouthankyou!

The door closes behind her with a swish and she jumps when she hears his footsteps come closer to the entrance. The only weapon within reach was the Absolutely Beautiful MaRK II Phaser rifle and it was the most glorious sight she has seen since she last saw Spock.

What they were doing with such advanced Starfleet weaponry was a question she would have to deal with later. In record time she has activated the rifle – Thank you Starfleet Training! – and aims towards the door. She sees a shadow through the translucent window pane in the middle and open fires. A fist size hole appears in the centre, a smoky ring and a loud curse from her abductor.

''You come in here and I'm gonna blow your head off. Starfleet law be damned! I am getting back to my mate. I am getting back to my ship!'' she screams in fury and fires again to the left of the door when she hears movement.

''There is no way out now. Like a little angry bird you are trapped in a cage of your own making, my pet.''

Jim looks around the room and sees no other doors and naturally being that they were in space the window was definitely not an option.

''Yeah, well I'm in your armoury you jackass. Come get me.''

Her stomach rumbles loudly and she snickers at the sound. Although she hoped they would make their move sooner rather than later because at some point she would definitely need to drink or eat and oh god how she needed to pee!

Ugh….

Pregnancy…

She keeps herself away from the wall and spying some crates laden with empty cartridges from their more inferior weapons - she makes a dash to push them and stack them as high as they could go in front of the door. Jim can hear a commotion outside, the prince having gathered his bodyguard entourage and was deep in an almost indiscernible discussion on how to get her out of there. With gas? Would they tamper with the air cylinders or simply go old school and smoke her out?

Wait… was there an emergency duct in here? There had to be. All armories had to have an emergency duct for escape just in case a phaser accidentally overloaded. The beeping of the weapons final stage of life a good indicator that now was the time to run like hell.

Hunting around, cursing and banging her knee on the high shelves filled with phasers and standard issued uniforms she silently hooraaahs! to the room around her when she spots a square in the floor that looked nothing like the rest of grimy coated surface. It wasn't clean per say just a whole lot less covered in shit.

Her fingers were too large to grasp onto the ends of the floor panel so using her knife she angles the blade underneath one corner and grabs it quickly with her left hand, pulling with all her might until the lid of the duct stood ramrod straight. The hinges creaked ominously and even here in space, dust lingered and swirled around her making her cough and cover her nose with her hand.

It was going to suck going down here.

A plan formed in her mind… a dangerously ridiculous one. Cocking a brow at the blocked door she blew out a huge breath, her hair blowing up and smacking lightly back into her face. Heading over to the shelves, she switches on five of the phasers currently neatly lined up.

An explosion would be a sure fire way to cause a distraction and escape.

Hopefully those idiots outside would think that she had somehow blown herself up.

Hopefully the explosion wouldn't be that big that she DID actually blow herself up.

If there was no way off the ship she would have to make contact with the Enterprise and get them to beam her tired, grumpy, pregnant ass off this ship and pronto!

Granted she would probably cause a hell of a lot of damage to the ship… a teeny tiny hole perhaps in the hull which if she wasn't careful could suck her out of the duct into space or even cut off her oxygen supply while she was down there.

Grabbing the five phasers Jim places them strategically against the door and begins to tamper with each one – a warning red light begins to blink and she wipes a bead of stress-sweat out of her eyes. She can no longer hear the goon squad outside and she knows she is slowly running out of time.

Grabbing two extra phasers and attaching them to her belt, she carefully lowers herself down into the duct as the first beep of an impending exploding weapon circles the metal walls of the armoury. The second phaser begins to beep and she twists her body around to grab the hatch and lower it back down, closing it on top of her and immediately shrouding herself in darkness.

It is cramped and oh so cold and her already battered and bruised knees protest furiously as she shuffles along down the winding path that leads god knows where. She calculates that she has about five minutes to get out of the blast zone and hopefully five phasers would be enough to just blow apart an interior section of the ship and not the exterior.

Setting one of the weapons on her hip to stun, the blue light of the setting illuminated the four walls surrounding her and she quickly suppressed the urge to panic due to claustrophobia.

Captain Mode. Captain Mode. Remember your training Jim!

She can hear muffled yelling from behind her. Obviously these idiots were smart enough to recognise the tell-tale sound of death rapidly approaching and she pushes herself to go faster.

The ship shakes as the first phaser explodes. The dust in the vent skittering so rapidly around her it almost looked like silver diamond dust as it fell and coated her from head to toe. The thickness of it clawing up her nose making her choke. She scarpers onward - pausing every two minutes to ride out the next blast, the fire alarm deafening even so far below the actual floor.

She can see a square light up ahead. A hatch to another room further down the tunnel and she prays that she has done enough damage to keep them occupied elsewhere. The sudden fear in her gut for her child's safety and for what Spock would be put through if she didn't succeed in escaping - drowned her and she automatically rubbed at her rounded belly and closed her eyes.

She could do this. God knows what she would be walking into up there but she could do this.

She was James T Kirk. Youngest female Captain in the fleet and decorated saviour of the motherfucking galaxy!

Pulling the lever for the hatch, a slight hiss emanates from the corners and she realises no one has used this entrance to the ducts in a very long time. She pushes slightly and it opens a crack. Alarms blaring, lights flickering and only the sound of one person speaking deliriously fast through a communicator could be heard and when she bravely pushes it open all the way she knows she has come directly to the one place she was dying to get to.

The Bridge.

Only the helmsman was here. The motley crew of this rust bucket must have all left their stations to attend to the explosion. There couldn't be more than thirty people on this vessel and she thanked the stars that she was almost out of here.

She clambers up slowly, a grotesque sight to behold. Torn, dirty clothing, grey streaks of dirt and dust across her face and a fierce scowl hanging from her mouth as she sneaks quietly up behind him. She removes the phaser from her belt and presses it to the back of his head. He stills with fright and sticks his hands up.

Universal surrender sign. But she was in no mood today.

''Open a communication channel to Starship USS Enterprise Code Alpha – Alpha- Charlie – One – One- One. Now.'' Her voice is soft but the threat embedded it in was unmistakable.

The helmsman cuts off his current conversation, his nervous gulp audible despite the alarms and he nods his head. He opens a communication channel and she holds her breath.

''This is Commander Scott of the USS Enterprise. You do not have authority to use this channel. Identify yourself.''

''Scotty, do you think I could ask for a lift? My ride isn't as sweet as yours.'' She smirks and the eye roll of the helmsman makes her smack him lightly over the head with her weapon.

''Captain! I cannae believe it! Sulu! Get Mr Spock down here! I know he's still recovering Chekov but just in case…. '' The entire bridge begins to yell and calculate and the relief in everyone's voices as they try to get a word in edge ways over the comm is endearing.

''No Scotty, if he's recovering leave him be. Just come to these co-ordinates and come pick me up. I've had enough of this place and I'm bloody starving.''

Jim rattles off the coordinates and ends the transmission with a promise to see them all soon.

''What do you intend to do with me? Kill me? Fight me fairly. There is no honour in this. I am unarmed.'' The helmsman begins to turn his head but doesn't get far before she pistol whips him and stuns him for good measure.

''Yeah, no thanks.'' The man slumps over in his chair and lands ungracefully on his face, ass up in the air and she uses her boot to roll him away. She can't decipher much from the language they use to navigate the ship but her intuition and dumb luck was strong enough to point her in the direction to what she needed to do.

She didn't have the codes to issue a self –destruct sequence and morally it wouldn't be right to blow them all up as much as she wanted to do. Instead she lowered all oxygen levels in each section of the ship one by one. This would make them all pass out for a good period of time and allow her more time for the Enterprise to get here.

''SELF-DESTRUCT SEQUENCE INITIATED''

''What the fuck?!'' she screams at the controls as numbers begin to count down from 50

OH THAT IDIOT! That stupid princely idiot had somehow managed to escape her little asphyxiation plot and accessed a console to start the destruct sequence from somewhere else.

''There you are, my pet!'' she spins around and ducks behind the chair as the console in front of her explodes from phaser fire.

''Why won't you die, asshole?'' she hollers back - dashing behind another console as he steps through the door onto the bridge.

''Why are you so intent on dying yourself? You have done nothing but go out of your way to cause your own demise. I would have given you the world. Loved you like no other could. You could have reigned supreme over a nation as strong as your own. But this continued defiance makes you more trouble than you are with. No matter your beauty, no matter your spirit. It saddens me but we are done.''

He fires at her again and she returns his shot with one of her own, forcing him to crouch behind the captains seat.

''We are done? Oh no, however shall I live without you?! Asshole.'' She scoffs and lunges back behind her chair for cover.

She hears him roar his frustration and peeking over the top of the heated, melting seat her eyes blow wide as she sees him barrelling towards her at full speed. She is unprepared for a full tackle to the ground and her phaser gets knocked out of her hands. She immediately blocks her arms in front of her face in an ex position and the first punch just skims the top of her forehead.

She struggles beneath him, her legs twisting and turning before she slams the heel of her palm into his throat. A pause long enough for her strike him in the stomach after, hopefully winding him. His hands shoot out and wrap around her neck and the pressure begins to build around her airway.

She bucks beneath him and in that split second that he lurches forward -slowly choking the life out of her - she grabs the extra phaser on her hip and presses it directly to his heart.

Her finger is on the trigger when her whole world turns golden.

The lights behind her eyes sparkle and all noise leaves her ears.

She is not alone in her head.

Something… someone…

Spock….

Spock….