"This is a bad idea," protests Scotty. Spock just gives him a bland look and moves into position. This whole operation is crazy why push their luck with adding more death defying rescues in the mix. Scotty raises his phaser and waits for Spock to open the door to briefing room five.
"If we are planning on retaking the bridge, we are going to need help," reminds Spock. It's only logical and yet, Spock fears it is not the main reason he's here. He punches his override code into the door. It slides open, taking the very large and angry looking augment by surprise. Spock drops his head and plows into the man's bulk form using his shoulder and the element of surprise to knock the augment down.
Once in the door Spock fires at one of the guards. He staggers under the hit, but does not succumb. Instead the guard takes refuge behind Sulu and the chair he's currently restrained to. The other guard moves to join the fight but Uhura turns her foot out from the leg of her chair. Tripping, the guard falls into Spock's arms where the Vulcan is able to apply a game ending nerve pinch.
Scotty's hot on Spock's heels, using his angle to fire on the guard who's using Sulu like a shield.
The augment gives an evil smile, the stun blast barely registering. He stands up to his full mountainous height and pushes Sulu's chair out of the way, stomping towards Scotty like an unstoppable avalanche.
Scotty fires again, and again, backing up each time it fails to render the target unconscious. Scotty keeps pressing the trigger but eventually his back hits the wall. He swallows audibly as the guard wraps his enormous hand around Scotty's, ripping the phaser away and tossing it over his shoulder. He raises his hefty fist and Scotty closes his eyes in anticipation of the impact that's likely to do him what the phaser failed to do to the guard.
Instead the guard lets out a pained yelp and crumples to the floor; Spock's latest victim. Scotty cautiously opens his eyes, breathing a sigh of relief. "That's a neat trick you got there. You should teach it to me some time," marvels Scotty.
Spock gives him a look that suggests neither has the patience for that lesson, before moving to Uhura's side. He quickly begins removing her restraints. Scotty sees to releasing the rest of the senior staff.
"Took you long enough," says Uhura, relieved to be seeing Spock once again. She thought for sure she was never going to be able to look into those eyes that say more than Spock could ever vocalize, again. The bindings holding her down fall to the floor and she immediately stands up. Her hands find Spock's.
Spock looks into her eyes and something just feels right. "Are you unharmed," he asks instead of offering a display of affection humans are often eager to share.
"I thought I'd never see you again," she says, resting her forehead against his chest. She could be content to just let Spock hold her for the rest of her life.
Scotty clears his throat. Both Uhura and Spock look at him taking a step away from one another, remembering they are in the presence of others. "We have a bridge to retake," reminds Scotty sheepishly. At least now they have larger numbers to try and take these guys down.
Spock hands his phaser to Uhura and leads the senior staff down the corridor and toward the bridge.
Jim pulls his communicator out initiating a ship wide call. "This is James T Kirk," echoes down every corridor and crevasse of the ship. Jim can picture the momentary shock on the bridge as the Botany crew has the epiphany that they're perfect plan is about to experience a speed bump. "I'm going to blow the hatch to the cargo bay and jettison half your crew into space unless you stop me, Khan. You took my family away from me, I'm going to damn well take yours from you, you son of a bitch," snarls Jim before terminating the comm.
Thank god Chekov's bright; the kid understands the signal and almost immediately the lights dim down to alert yellow. Doors all over the ship slide shut and lock under new restrictive codes transforming the ship into a maze with no open routes but to only a few people.
"Khan made it off the bridge before I could lock it down completely," apologizes Chekov over Jim's comm.
A sad smile paints Jim's face. Chekov is going to make one hell of an officer that's going to earn a command of his own one day, if he just has a little more faith in his abilities and stops acting like he's letting everyone down. Jim wishes he could see that day; be the admiral that places that last pip on his collar, shakes his hand and wishes him well on his maiden voyage. Yet another dream that's tragically cut short for Jim. "You did good, Chekov. That's what I was banking on."
"But…" says Chekov like he wants to point out an obvious flaw in Jim's well crafted plan, but then stops.
The silence hangs in the air and Jim knows the kid's too bright to miss what's being spelled out. He can practically hearing the wheels turning.
"Jim," pleads Chekov in a tight, quiet voice filled with that harsh restrain of sorrow.
Jim's fingers tighten around his communicator. Chekov's one of those people with a sunny disposition that's untainted by the harsh realities of the universe; a tender soul that death and despair haven't been cruel enough to touch. Jim on the other hand was born in the shadow of tragedy, cradled in death's arms as he made his first appearance in this universe. He's been misfortune's dumping ground for so long, he's forgotten that there are unicorns like Chekov out there that haven't come out of the happy fairy tale yet. Jim hates that he's probably going to be the kid's first real loss, the realization that sometimes the good guys don't make it home even when they win. Jim's always been kind of a bastard and a shitty teacher.
"Just make sure Spock and Scotty take the bridge," says Jim with the same vigour and swagger he beings to every sparring session. He clicks his communicator closed; there's no point in drawing it out and they both have jobs to do.
Jim punches in Leonard's code. The lock on the cargo bay door flashes green, granting him entrance inside. Jim steps through quickly, the door eager to relock and keep the alleged contamination contained.
The cargo bay is haunted, the emergency lighting doing it no favours. There's a chill in the air, one that can't be explained away by a malfunction in climate control. Spread out along the cargo bay floor stacked two high are the recently retrieved collection of cryo pods that look more like coffins than protectors of life. Jim supposes they are: coffins for the living that will never experience life again. What's worse, the part that makes Jim feel gutted and small, is this is the place where Leonard spent his last moments.
He can picture Leonard standing there, tall and unapologetic, a healthy dose of irritation manipulating his handsome features because only Leonard could show irritation at being a hostage. Jim's a little jealous that Leonard's last words uttered to Spock in a bid to protect the ship, but Leonard's always been remarkable brave and selfless. A divine definition of grace under pressure.
There's a certain bitter irony in that the man that spent their entire relationship making sure Jim didn't do something foolish or brave to get himself killed is the one that got himself killed being brave and selfless. It almost makes it fitting that the final stand takes place here. Jim just prays he gets to see the moment Khan realizes the end has come the same way he must have seen Leonard realize it.
"Computer, begin sequence to open the cargo bay hatch," orders Jim.
The computer chirps confirmation as the warning lights begin to flash and declares, "Ten minutes until cargo bay doors open. Please clear the cargo bay."
Jim takes position and waits for Khan to appear. He doesn't have to wait long.
Khan bursts through the door like a ravenous animal that had to chase its prey through the gauntlet. Jim's pissed off his fair share of people, but this is the darkest fury he's ever seen directed at him personally. Every line of Khan's body screams his desires to snap Jim like a twig and then use the splinters to start a fire that will burn the world down.
Jim levels his phaser and fires. The blast hits the control panel mere inches from Khan's head raining down a shower of sparks and releasing a cloud of smoke.
Khan smiles like he's unsurprised, his composure returning now that smiting the piss ant that dares threaten his family is in reach. "You missed," he declares, not that a phaser set to anything other than kill would even slow his pace. This is going to be too easy.
Jim shrugs helplessly and tosses the phaser over his shoulder. "Would have taken the fun out of this anyways."
Khan charges forward like a bull, slamming into Jim and driving him hard into the stack of cryo tubes behind him. Jim gasps, the breath knocked out of him and crumples to the floor as Khan steps back. Khan paces a few steps back and forth before slamming his foot deep and hard into Jim's side.
Jim cries out as a rib or two give under the pressure.
"You are as weak as your doctor," taunts Khan, bringing his foot back to execute another kick.
Jim grits his teeth, anger taking away the pain as he rolls out of the way, popping up to issue a right hook of his own. He makes contact with Khan's jaw, the augments head twisting to the side slightly. Pain explodes in his hand so bad that Jim wonders whether he hit Khan or Khan's jaw hit him. He grabs a tool kit left lying on one of the crates and swings it at the other side of Khan's face with everything he has.
Anyone else would be on the floor out cold, but Khan just glares back at Jim, wiping away the drop of blood that dares to run from his nose. "Is this the best you can do?" demands Khan, with an over confident rumble in his voice.
God Jim hopes not. Khan's barely sporting a scratch but that small insignificant drop of blood is still satisfying as hell. "I'm just getting started," insists Jim and he almost believes the lie himself.
They chase after each other, spinning in circles, delivering blows against one another as the world blurs around them like on a merry go round. Most of Jim's moves are defensive, Khan faster, stronger, with better balance. Every hit Jim does earn doesn't come without a hefty price. Hitting Khan is like hitting a flesh covered metal frame. Taking a hit is like having a shuttle drop on him.
Khan catches Jim on the chin, the impact vibrating along his jaw and rattling his skull. Jim's vision swims and his stomach rolls. Out of the corner of his eye in the swirling darkness he catches a glimpse of pointy ears, scurrying around like rats.
Blood's splattered on Khan's face like war paint. The intricate lines of blood running over his features like Romulan design aren't Khan's blood but Jim's as Khan rams his fist against Jim's nose.
Tears explode in Jim's eyes, a pain so hot and fierce flowing from his nose like lava. His ears ring with a buzz that slowly turns into Nero's laughter. Khan shoves Jim. He topples backwards unable to keep his feet underneath him.
Nero scrambles over to Jim. Skittering out from the shadows and getting down on his hands and knees so he's right in Jim's face. "After I'm done with you, I'm going to make that doctor of yours my new favourite play thing," whispers Nero with that self-satisfied smirk that promises he'll make good on his threat. It probably says something about how broken Jim was before Nero ever laid a finger on him that that's what fortifies Jim's will to live through every depraved and sadistic thing Nero can dish out.
"The human race is broken if you're the best it has to offer." It sounds nothing like Nero. The Romulan bastard doesn't give two shits about humans when the Vulcans are still sitting pretty. Jim blinks the blurry image of Nero away, the yellowish warning lights of the Enterprise not that great of an upgrade from the darkened green lighting of the Narada.
Now is not the time to get lost. Though if he has to fade away, his brain could at least do him the courtesy of picking a time and place where a megalomaniac isn't trying to kill him.
Khan's on top of him, his legs pinning Jim down as he twists his hand tight into the fabric of Jim's shirt using the knot he creates to hoist Jim's head and shoulders off the ground. Any thoughts of Nero are firmly knocked out of his head by the unrelenting ferocity of Khan's fist.
The world's spinning like a snowball tumbling down a hill, every new bump and bruise eliciting a new level of pain as they build off of the previous wounds. There's blood on the deck and everything else in a two foot radius from Jim and Khan's impressive wing span as he pulls his deadly fist back for maximum velocity. The flecks splatter on impact, dripping from Khan's knuckles as he pulls back to do it again. "Do you really think such bleeding hearts like you could change the trajectory of my inevitable victory?" spits Khan, looking disgusted at even having to dirty himself with dealing with Jim. None of them have the fortitude to touch his greatness which is not only his birthright but something only the lion in a flock of sheep would think to take.
"It only takes one match," coughs Jim around a mouthful of blood and what feels to be a molar, "to make and explosion." He smiles, a mess of blood stained teeth and victory.
Khan pauses for a moment to decide if Jim is stupid enough to think he's wining or delusional enough to believe something will be gained here. "Did you really think you could beat me?"
"No," replies Jim, because that wasn't in the cards, not after Leonard. "I just had to distract you for ten minutes."
Khan's head snaps towards the cargo bay hatch as the sound of the locks and gears disengaging and activating in turn sing out their movements. He quickly glances back to the door, the only thing that can save them from a room that's about to be exposed to cold hard space, and to the control panel Jim blasted the second Khan entered. Looks like Jim didn't miss his mark after all. The access panel is fried making door access from this side useless. Jim has essentially locked them in the cargo bay.
"I win," laughs Jim. It's kind of manic, bubbling up from the depths of his soul and for the first time in a long time, he feels like he gets the joke.
The hissing of the air slowly being pulled out of the room by environmental controls for decompression drowns out Jim's laughter. He tries not to think about what the last seconds of his life are going to be like; the air getting thinner until the cargo bay hatch can open and then the cold void of space. He was born among the stars, it's rather poetic in a universal symmetry sort of way that this is where he's come to die.
At least the ship is safe.
And without Khan running around, the Botany crew is under lockdown with everyone else making it easier for Spock and company to round them up and lock them somewhere permanent.
Jim closes his eyes and thinks of Leonard; the grinding of gears pulling the cargo bay hatch open playing in the background like a funeral march. It's over quickly, the seal barely broken when a force field erects itself keeping space and the precious oxygen of the ship safely in their respective corners- at least for the moment. The field crackles and ripples on the verge of failure, they system still suffering from Khan's influence. Chekov pulls miracles out of his ass the way Jim pulls lives.
"Warning, force field integrity compromised. Please evacuate immediately," warns the computer.
Khan releases Jim's shirt and wraps his large hands around Jim's throat. "You won't get to see it," he warns as he starts to squeeze.
Jim gasps, desperate for breath, his fingers ineffectively clawing at Khan's hands and arms. Really, by strangulation or space, he's going to suffocate either way, but instinct kicks in fuelled by some desire to not die by Khan's hand or before the bastard. It's a futile effort. Jim's hits turn to slaps and then to noting more than taps as his vision starts to gray and darken.
Jim's hands slowly fall to his side, and so does Khan, with a clang that rings through the room like a klaxon alarm. Jim coughs and sputters trying to sate his starving lungs with sweet delicious air. Khan's dead weight pressing down on him isn't helping the situation, nor is what's probably a broken rib or two, and what feels suspiciously like a broken nose. He manages to roll Khan off of him and looks up.
Jim's eyes widen. His brain short-circuits leaving his mouth gaping. "Bones!" he yells. Leonard's standing there, a little rumpled and a large metal wrench swung over his shoulder like a baseball bat. It's the most beautiful sight he's ever seen.
Leonard drops the wrench beside the unconscious augment. For all Khan's genetic advancements they clearly didn't come up with the perfect genetic sequence against hard metal objects to the head. "Can't leave you alone for a minute," scolds Leonard as he pulls Jim to his feet.
"I think he broke my face," exclaims Jim. It's not eloquent or a profound declaration of his undying love or anything remotely close to what Jim imagined he would say to Leonard if he ever got the chance again. It's probably shock and oxygen deprivation's fault.
Leonard scowls as he looks at the bruising already displaying its colourful wings on his lover's face. "I can see from here he did."
Jim just stands there. The split lip, beaten flesh, broken bones and tight itch from drying blood all fade away to nothing as he watches Leonard's eyes scrutinize every inch of Jim in that overly obsessive medical cataloguing way that Leonard can't help but default to. It makes Jim just want to wrap himself in those arms like a favourite blanket. "How? Why?" he manages mumble, his brain still desperate to find out if this is reality or some ghostly visage come to ferry him to the afterlife.
Leonard shrugs. "One minute I'm staring down a phaser and the next thing I know I'm waking up in a malfunctioning cryo tube and that psycho is beating on my husband," he says absently, like Jim's more important than anything that happened to him. If he only knew.
Leonard puts his hands on Jim's face, gently tipping his head to the side to get a better look at the damage. They're so warm and gentle- definitely not a ghost. Jim just wants to melt into that touch, fuse his soul with Leonard's and never let go.
A whimper escapes Jim. Not from pain but relief. "I thought you were dead," he mewls.
"What part of your plan was this?" criticizes Leonard in a soft nonjudgmental tone he usually saves for Joanna. Jim's here alone and beaten to hell, it doesn't exactly screaming winning. He's kind of afraid to ask just what Jim's end goal was here today.
Jim just rolls his eyes. Leonard's mother henning is the most beautiful sound and he'd gladly listen to it all day if they had the time.
"Warning. Force field integrity is failing," advises the computer.
The force field along the cargo bay door crackles and shimmers as it starts to lose stability. Whatever magic Chekov implemented, it's not going to hold forever. Both he and Leonard can't help but stare at the only thing keeping them from the harsh embrace of space that's threatening to collapse. "How long can you hold your breath?" asks Jim, already a little breathless from his efforts to distract Khan.
"You've got to be kidding me!" complains Leonard. He looks towards the door.
"It's fried. Can't open it from this side. Take a bit of work for someone to open it from the other side if there was anyone to help," apologises Jim.
"Transporters?"
Jim shakes his head regretfully.
"That's just typical."
If Jim had known this was a possibility, he would have worked in an escape plan. Still, as final moments go, he couldn't ask for any better. He reaches over and takes Leonard's hand. Leonard looks at him, squeezing back. They don't need words, just feeling the warmth of the other at the end is enough. "Wait," says Jim, his eyes going wide before he starts to jog towards the storage compartments along the west wall of the bay.
Leonard looks ahead to Jim's destination, a smile coming to his face as he realizes what Jim's thinking of. He follows after Jim.
Jim opens the cabinet and starts pulling out the spacesuits. "Shit." There's only two present the other two spots are vacant, left useless by some ensign that hasn't gotten around to putting away the equipment yet. There are two suits which is perfect, except technically there's three of them now. He knows the second Leonard figures out the moral problem.
"Jim, what about Khan?"
What about him, Jim wants to ask. He came here with the explicit purpose of killing the man; now seems like a foolish time to worry about saving his ass. The man convinced everyone he killed Leonard in cold blood. He killed the first officer and seems to have no compunction about killing the rest of the crew. Who knows how many people Khan killed to get to this point or how many he will kill if he's allowed to live another day. And yet, knowing all that, Jim knows Leonard won't willingly take a life. It's what makes Leonard an amazing human being, if not a little frustrating sometimes.
Jim could force the issue. All he'd have to do is put one suit on and refuse to help Leonard get Khan into the other one while reminding Leonard all the things he needs to live for: Joanna, Jim. Leonard would do it, but it would poison his soul and darken the rest of their days. It would haunt Jim too because like Nero, Khan aims to take everything away from people, including their humanity and that's one thing Jim's not prepared to lose or watch someone else lose. It wasn't an issue when he figured he'd be dead pretty quickly after but the thought of living with that poison for the rest of his life, when Khan didn't kill Leonard, is a little daunting.
Two suits and three people. No matter the combination, it's going to be a dark day.