Chapter 2: Cave
Voices. Shouting in a language he didn't know. The same voices whispering. Not Bones.
Burning. Pain. He was on fire. He was certain he was on fire.
He could see. Hands around him. Hands inside him.
Screaming. Screaming. Screaming.
Darkness.
Cold in his chest. Metal in his ribs. The distinct feeling of wrong.
Darkness. Silence.
Jim awoke with a jolt, gasping. He immediately regretted his decision to be alive.
His eyes screwed shut on their own, the fluorescent light shining on him shooting bolts of pain through his skull. Concussion, he thought to himself. Just great.
Agony erupted from his left thigh, and it took everything Jim had to hold in the cry that bubbled in his throat. Broken leg. Even better.
Jim could feel a dull pain in his shoulder, and he knew it had to be dislocated. It had happened so often that he didn't even have to consider-
"Good morning, Captain Kirk."
Jim turned with a start, and felt every injury groan with the movement. He felt like his chest had been taken apart and put back together completely wrong. To be completely honest, Jim wasn't sure there was any part of him that wasn't experiencing some level of pain.
He was laying in some kind of cot, or maybe just a tremendously uncomfortable bed.
He was definitely not in sickbay.
A small human man sat in a plastic chair to his left. The contrast between his large round glasses and relatively small head made him look like a mouse. He didn't seem to be a threat.
"Who are you?" Jim tried to sound commanding, but instead his voice was quiet and cracked. His throat felt as dry as Vulcan. For some reason, freezing air was pumping through his nose and into his esophagus in a way that was completely uncomfortable. He lifted a hand to his nose (which took way more effort than he would ever admit) and felt a cannula stuck in his nostrils. How very 21st century.
The man stood and adjusted his lab coat, leaning over to look Jim over. He grabbed Jim's wrist and pulled his hand away from his nose, laying it back on the bed. The action was not gentle by any means.
"You have a severe concussion, dislocated right shoulder, a broken fever, and several broken ribs. Not to mention…" He trailed off, checking a bandage surrounding Jim's broken leg.
"Who are you?" This time, he was louder, more forceful.
With a sigh, the man replied, "I am Doctor Olin. It is my job to make sure you remain alive, regardless of how dead you should be."
"What happened? Where am I?" As he became more awake, Jim began to notice a peculiar feeling in his chest. It felt cold, and it felt foreign. He couldn't tell if he was imagining it, if it was just a manifestation of his skyrocketing anxiety.
"Relax, Captain. We have nothing, if not time."
Olin removed the bandage from around Jim's thigh, and he groaned. He noted that the bandage was filthy, covered in dirt and soaked with blood. It took him a moment to realize that it was his blood.
His leg stung something fierce as the doctor scrubbed the area around the break. The leg was rewrapped, and Olin moved on. If Jim closed his eyes, he could almost pretend he was in sickbay. But, when he opened his eyes, he stared up into harsh lights and a low cave ceiling. Huh. I'm in a cave. That's… unexpected.
A sudden throbbing in his chest made Jim aware once more of Olin moving around him. The cold became more intense, and Jim gasped. He had to know what was causing these abnormal feelings.
He lifted his head off of the table he was laying on. And nearly threw up.
Underneath the dirty bandages surrounding his torso was a lump in the center of his chest.
A lump that was definitely not there before.
Jim ripped the bandages away, causing Olin to scold him loudly. But Jim didn't hear him. He was staring at the thick metal disk protruding from his sternum. It was covered in screws and wires and looked like something he would've built when he was eleven, back on his farm in Iowa.
His panic built as he followed the trail of wires to on object on the table next to him that looked eerily like an ancient car battery. He realized that that was exactly what it was.
Jim turned to Olin, who was once more sitting in his chair, and whispered, "What have you done to me?" It sounded more like a threat than a question.
The small doctor sighed and entwined his fingers.
"They blew up your shuttle. When they recovered you, you were more shrapnel than man. You were brought to me, and I did my best to remove it all. However, several pieces were too close to your heart to remove. Any attempt to do so would have sent them straight into your heart, effectively ending your life. This battery stops them from reaching their destination. Without it, you would surely be dead."
Jim shook his head in disbelief.
"Where am I? And who are 'they'?"
Voices grew louder outside the metal door on the other side of the cave. Olin stood quickly, as if he had been electrocuted. His back was straight, and he looked visibly frightened.
Jim had moments to take this all in before the door slammed open and hooded men (Jim could only guess they were men based on their physique) carrying phasers marched through.
One of the figures stepped head of the rest and removed his hood. He had eyebrows that rivalled Nero's and a ridge on the bridge of his nose that indicted that he was a Bajoran. He grinned like a shark at Jim.
"Stand when I am addressing you," he demanded, speaking perfect English.
Jim couldn't help himself. "Does it look like I'm going to be doing that anytime soon?" he scoffed.
The Bajoran nodded to two others on his left, who stepped out of the group and made their way over to Jim. They split at the foot of his bed, one going to his left and the other to his right. Grabbing his arms roughly, they pulled him off of the bed, causing the table the car battery was resting on to roll with him.
The pain was unbelievable, and Jim's vision went white. He was pretty sure he passed out for a few seconds, because when the pain receded slightly and his sight returned, his head was resting against his chest and he was staring at the smooth floor. He was hanging limply in between the Bajorans holding him. Jim looked up at the leader.
His grin appeared to have grown in the time it took to get Jim to his feet.
"What do you want?" Jim asked, tasting blood in his mouth.
"Greetings, Captain James T. Kirk of Starfleet. Thank you for joining us. Your services will be required indefinitely."
"My services?" Jim felt unease creeping into him.
The Bajoran laughed, a full body laugh that sent chills down Jim's back.
"The doctor hasn't told you? Captain, you're going to build us a warp core!"