Disclaimer: don't own Star Trek

When McCoy re-formed wherever the transporter brought him, he could tell it had taken longer than it should have. "Fuck," he muttered, stumbling a little as he fought the urge to throw up.

Before he could think anymore, however, a feminine force had slammed into him, kissing him desperately.

He pulled back, stunned. "April?" his voice clearly showed his shock. As he looked around, he could see Jim and Scotty standing at the computer console, both grinning happily. Carol and Chekov were there as well, and a strange woman hovered in the background. Spock was standing off to one side, leaning against the wall in what was probably an attempt to hide his injury. It might have worked if he wasn't a Vulcan and therefore not prone to casually leaning against walls.

April grasped him in a tight hug and dragged him off the transporter. As they reached Scotty, the Engineer apologized, "Sorry for the bumpy ride," he grimaced. "It's an old transporter. We thought it best to bring you in one at a time, just in case."

McCoy shook his head. "Considering the circumstances, I think I'll forgive you."

Scotty grinned, and Jim moved forward, giving the doctor a brief hug.

McCoy would never admit that his returning hug was just as needy as the younger man's.

Spock's knees buckled at that moment though, and McCoy was on him in a flash. "Is there a med kit around here somewhere?" he asked brusquely.

Scotty looked over at the stranger. "Jayla?"

The woman nodded and disappeared. The rest of them left the Engineering deck and headed back up to what McCoy recognized as a very old fashioned Bridge. He'd get answers later, right now he had to make sure Spock wasn't actually in danger of dying.

They set Spock down on a long bench, and McCoy quickly caught April up on what had happened so that she could help him. Jayla returned at that moment, thrusting a bag in the doctors' direction.

McCoy gratefully pulled out a few useful tools, though they were amazingly outdated.

But beggars couldn't be choosers, so he got to work quickly, April providing a much needed extra pair of hands.

The rest of the crew stood back respectfully, waiting and ready if there was anything either doctor needed them to do.

Well, most of them were waiting. Carol barely made it two minutes before she was once more rushing to the trash can in the corner and throwing up everything she had eaten for breakfast.

Jim followed her and kneeled behind his fiancée, rubbing her back even as he kept half an eye focused on his First Officer and CMO.

Finally, McCoy sat back with a satisfied sigh. "Well, these tools are definitely decades out of date, but I'm satisfied you won't bleed out."

Spock nodded gratefully, but made no move to stand up. He would take whatever time they could allow to gather his strength for what would come next.

McCoy immediately turned around and focused his attention on Carol, who had stopped throwing up but was still kneeling by the trash receptacle. "Your turn."

Carol frowned, confused. "I'm not injured."

McCoy raised an eyebrow disbelievingly. "Healthy people don't just throw up. Could be a head injury."

Carol glanced at Jim and then April helplessly.

April took pity on the woman, and reached over, resting a hand gently on her husband's shoulder. "She had a concussion but it's cleared up, Len. This isn't an injury, promise."

McCoy frowned, confused, and turned back to the Brit. His sharp eyes studied her from this distance, taking in the paleness and sheen of sweat, as well as the way one hand was pressing against her abdomen, almost protectively. A slow smile crept its way across his face. "How far along?" he asked curiously.

Carol blushed, but she smiled, and Jim rubbed her shoulders comfortingly. "About six weeks I think. Maybe seven. I took a test a few days ago, and was going to see you once we finished at Yorktown."

McCoy's smile widened, and he quickly moved across the room to give them both hugs. "Congratulations you two, I'm so happy for you."

From his position on the bench, Spock also offered his congratulations.

Jim grinned his thanks, while Carol tried to smile but then immediately turned around and started throwing up again. Jim winced sympathetically, and McCoy frowned.

"I'd still like to give you a check over," he insisted. "It's been a stressful couple of days, no harm in making sure everything's really all right. Morning sickness kicks in right around now if your timeline is right, but you still shouldn't be throwing up that much."

Carol's shoulders wilted slightly but she nodded in acceptance, especially after Jim agreed as well.

McCoy waited until Carol stopped heaving, and then led her over to a free chair.

Jim kept one eye on his fiancée and best friend, but the rest of his attention was back on the rest of the group. "So, next issue we need to fix: get the rest of our crew back. Ideas?"

XXX

It had been a long day and night for Sulu, Uhura, and the other officers who had been captured by Krall and Kodos. By Uhura's estimation, it had been at least twenty hours before night had come, and approximately eight or nine more before it was light again. Both command crew Lieutenants had led the rest of the group in searching every inch of their cage, but there were no weak points. Once they had exhausted themselves looking for an escape route, there was nothing to do but wait and hope that somewhere out there, Jim and the others were working on getting them out.

It had relieved both Lieutenants to no end to see that Jim, Spock, Chekov, McCoy, and Scotty were missing. They were glad April and Carol hadn't been captured as well, but the unknowns continued to loom unpleasantly. Not captured didn't mean unharmed and it certainly didn't mean safe.

Kodos hadn't been nearly as pleased to find certain key individuals missing. He had come back a few hours after that first visit, observed all of them in their captivity, and then let out a loud shout and berated Krall for being unable to hold up his end of the bargain.

Uhura wasn't a betting woman, but she would place money on the madman's anger stemming from Jim's absence.

After that fitful night, all of them were even more on edge, not helped by Krall's return visit shortly after dawn.

Sulu was on his feet immediately, placing himself strategically in front of a pair of Ensigns he had been comforting moments earlier. No matter how many strange and terrifying things they had seen in their travels, being held captive was never fun, and those Ensigns weren't high enough on the ladder of their respective departments to even make it onto an away team yet. Needless to say, they were terrified.

The pilot glared. "You have committed an act of war against the Federation, and I promise you, the Federation will retaliate in kind."

Krall smirked. "I'm counting on it," he leered. "You brutes are so eager to jump at the beck and call of your master and their constant drive for peace and inclusion with other species." He sneered. "It makes me sick."

Uhura was next to Sulu now, and her gaze narrowed. "We don't have to answer to xenophobes like you."

Krall glowered at her. "I am simply righting a wrong. Starfleet should have never pushed the boundaries. Humans should never have mixed with aliens."

Uhura spared a small glance to a few officers who were clearly not human, and vowed to do whatever it took to protect them from this asshole. Turning back to Krall, her chin lifted in defiance. "This comes with all the weight of my position as Chief Communications Officer for the Starfleet flagship Enterprise: fuck off." Any amusement Krall had died in that moment, and Uhura's mouth twisted into a smirk. "I can say it again in sixty eight other languages, if you like."

Sulu snickered next to her, while also taking a step forward in case Krall decided to show his displeasure physically. A few other officers were similarly amused, but made a valiant effort not to laugh out loud, wary of catching their captor's attention.

Krall glared menacingly. "It doesn't matter if you Starfleet mouthpieces believe me, I am only doing what's best for humankind."

Krall glanced behind him, and Uhura and Sulu shifted back slightly as Kodos entered the cage. "We're only doing what's best," he reiterated.

"You don't care about humans," Uhura glowered. "You're a monster who would slaughter humans right alongside any other species."

There was movement behind the two men, and then a young woman entered. "How dare you!" Lenore shouted, she would have lunged at Uhura, but her father's cautioning hand stayed her movement.

Uhura and Sulu gaped, recognizing her easily.

Kodos seemed to enjoy their shock. "You played your part well, daughter," he congratulated her. "And as for you," he looked back at the officers in front of him, "I am simply reclaiming what belongs to me."

Sulu shifted his attention to Krall. "You claim to care about humans, but you don't care that this man killed thousands of them?"

"He saved thousands," Krall corrected. "The only ones to die were those not worthy of life."

Uhura remembered her studies well – of those on Kodos' kill list, the majority were either not Terran, or of African or Asian descent. The rest had come from the poorer farming families that lived outside the city walls. Almost ninety percent of those on his 'worthy' list had been of European descent. Of the ten percent left, if they weren't fair skinned then they were of the upper class, though there were a few that fell outside that mold but had a family member who served as a member of Kodos' security forces on the planet, and so had been spared.

"If Starfleet weren't such a bunch of bleeding hearts, they would have understood what Mr. Karidian here was trying to do," Krall's voice took on a superior tone. "Our aim now is to correct their oversight. Shaking hands with Klingons and inviting them into our home. Disgusting!" Krall scowled. "Rolling over and letting them walk all over us when we should be treating them like the rabid creatures they are. I will show Starfleet their mistake, and Mr. Karidian will ensure the man who is leading this gross miscarriage is punished accordingly."

Looking at Kodos, Uhura and Sulu couldn't fail to think that it was more a personal revenge than any grander plan that had Kodos wanting to get his hands on Jim. They were even more relieved now, that Jim hadn't been captured like they had.

Krall had a final leer as watched the expressions of his captives widen in horror. "You are all so eager to push the frontier, Starfleet scum. This is where the frontier pushes back."

He gestured to Kodos and his daughter, and the three of them left, locking the gate behind them.

"Yorktown," Sulu breathed. "That's their target. Shit!"

Uhura nodded, and sank to the ground. Sulu sat next to her. "The peace talks," she agreed. "That's what brought this on. But how is Kodos involved?"

"He escaped over a year ago," Sulu reasoned. "Maybe he stumbled across that psychopath and talked his way into helping? But where the hell does a daughter fit into this?"

Uhura shrugged. They may never know what had happened, but none of them had any doubts about the madman's thoughts on Krall's plan – he would have been eager to help kill thousands of innocents, surely. "She can't be more than twenty or so, maybe younger. Definitely not old enough to have been around for Tarsus, he probably had her sometime after he fled."

There wasn't much they could do about that revelation right now, so Sulu focused back on the more urgent problem. "So what do we do?" the pilot asked. How were they going to get out of this mess?

Uhura bit her lip, trying to remain calm. "Jim is still out there somewhere," she reminded him, as well as the other officers all crowded around trying desperately to listen in to their commanding officers' conversation. Strangely – or not – that reminder did help to settle them down. Jim was their Captain, and he had proved many times over the years that he would do whatever it took to protect his crew. Uhura sighed. "He's probably out there right now trying to get us out and get back to Yorktown."

The rest of the crew were definitely buying that, and Sulu wanted to as well, but he couldn't help himself. "How do you even know he's still alive?" the pilot asked quietly, his voice carrying no further than her own ears.

Uhura smiled slightly. "Jim Kirk doesn't know how to lose." Her smile dropped and she looked serious. "Hikaru, I have to believe that he's out there because the alternative means that we're all dead. Us, and everyone on Yorktown."

XXX

"Before we crashed, I saw ships snatching escape pods out of the air," McCoy told the group. Now that Spock was out of danger and he was confident that Carol was suffering from no more than stress and too little sleep, McCoy could focus his attention on the larger problem at hand. "Whoever is behind this probably has most of the crew, and probably all in one place, if we can find it."

"Probably those other signals we saw on the monitor," Chekov observed. He looked at the doctor. "There was a smaller, very faint one coming from your location, and a few more much further away." He turned to Jim. "Can we beam them out like we did Doctor McCoy and Commander Spock?"

Jim bit his lip and shook his head. "There's some sort of energy field disrupting the transmitter," he informed them. "I tried to get a lock after we got Bones and Spock on board. We can't beam them out where they are."

"How do we even know it's really them?" April asked reasonably. "You said that this ship also emitted a signal, how do we know what the computer picked up is actually the crew and not something else?"

"We have to check it out," Jim argued. "We can't risk not to."

"Perhaps I can provide an alternative solution?" Spock asked, sitting up slowly. McCoy glared at him, but didn't comment. Spock let out a deep breath once he was vertical, and was pleased that beyond a few painful twinges, he no longer felt like he was being repeatedly stabbed. "Doctor Vanderbilt is correct, we cannot be certain that this location will hold the crew. To act on uncertainties wastes valuable time and resources."

"You're not saying anything we don't already know, Spock, get to the point," McCoy scowled.

April glared at her husband. "Be nice," she admonished, and then turned back to the Vulcan. "Len's tone and words leave something to be desired, but the sentiment is noted. Where are you going with this, Spock?"

Spock slowly stood and made his way to Chekov. He entered an equation into the computer and then looked at the navigator. "Lieutenant Chekov, can you scan for this compound? It is a mineral native to Vulcan-that-was, and emits a low level radiation that should make it easily visible."

Chekov frowned but turned back to the computer. "I'll look, but why would a Vulcan mineral be on this planet?"

Spock pursed his lips. "I gifted Nyota with a necklace at her last birthday. The pendant was formed from this mineral."

McCoy raised an eyebrow. "You gave your girlfriend radioactive jewelry?"

Spock observed him carefully. "The levels of radiation are harmless, Doctor. However, the unique composition should make it easy to trace."

McCoy's expression just got more skeptical. "You gave your girlfriend a tracking device."

Spock seemed to be startled by the implication. On the other side of the room, Jim was struggling to hold in his laughter. "That was not my intention," Spock finally replied.

Jim lost it at that last remark. He laughed long and hard, while Chekov, April, Carol, and Scotty all seemed to be struggling not to do the same. Scotty let out a few chortles, while Chekov just focused on the computer to hide his grin.

Carol turned back to her trash can as another wave of nausea hit. McCoy was immediately there asking Jayla if she had some water or crackers, which might help ease the nausea. The newcomer left the Bridge, heading for the kitchen area.

A few minutes later, Chekov let out a triumphant shout. "I found it!" he said excitedly. "The Vulcan signal is coming from the same location as the Starfleet signals. It's them!"

Well, it was Uhura at least, but if McCoy was right and the enemy had captured most of their crew, then it would be logical to assume that others would be with her.

"We need to find a way in to wherever it is they're being held," Jim said determinedly.

"It is not possible." Jayla had returned. She looked grim as she handed a bottle of water to Carol and turned back to Jim. "People who go in there, they don't come out."

McCoy frowned. "How do you know that?"

Jayla seemed to be fighting back tears as she looked at the doctor, her gaze overly bright. "It happened to my family. My father sacrificed himself so that I could escape. You cannot go there!"

She turned and fled the room. Scotty watched her leave, biting his lip in concern. "We need her help, Jim," he said softly. "Even if she doesn't want to, she knows more than we do. If there's a way in, she probably knows it."

Jim nodded in agreement. He gave Carol's shoulder a gentle squeeze, and then followed Jayla's path.

He found her in the cargo hold, sorting through boxes of junk with an air that told the Captain quite clearly she wasn't actually thinking about what she was doing. He glanced around with interest – this had to be personal effects from the crew of the Franklin – and his gaze caught on a vintage motorcycle in a corner of the room. His eyes widened in surprise. He recognized it as a Hilts PX70, because they used to have one cluttering up a corner of their garage when he was a kid in Riverside. It had belonged to George Kirk once upon a time. Frank had sold it off when Jim was eight, claiming that it was no use to anyone there, and he needed the money. Jim had hated him for that, for so casually getting rid of one of the few things Jim had of his father's, just so he could buy more beer. That memory had been one of the reasons why he had driven his dad's car off that cliff – he had refused to allow Frank to sell another one of George Kirk's possessions to fuel his alcoholism.

He put the nostalgia – and anger – aside for the moment, and sat next to Jayla. He took a few silent minutes to observe her actions. She was focused completely on a weapon in her hands – another outdated projectile weapon – and she was cleaning it rigorously. It was a move Jim knew all too well: focus intently on one task so that the rest of the world couldn't get in and force you to feel things you weren't ready for.

"Can you tell me about your dad?" he finally asked, voice quiet and understanding.

Jayla's hands faltered, but she didn't look up. Eventually, she replied, "He was protector to all of us. When our ship crashed here, he tried to keep us all safe. Krall's men found us, and brought us to their cage." She grit her teeth at the memory of that day, and the looming building in front of them, the terror of knowing only certain death awaited. "He sacrificed himself for me, so that I could escape. And I just left him. I ran like a coward." She grimaced.

Jim shifted slightly in his seat. "You may be a lot of things, Jayla, but I highly doubt coward is one of them. I might not know you that well, but you've managed to survive on this hostile planet for however long it's been –"

"Six months," Jayla interrupted.

Jim smiled and nodded in acknowledgement. His gaze focused on the far wall as his mind drifted to memories he had for so long tried to hide. "You know, I have this dream sometimes, where I grow up with loving parents, a mother and father who only wanted the best for me, who celebrated eagerly when I graduated from high school at the age of seven, and who were cheering in the audience for every degree I earned. They would have thrown the biggest party in the galaxy when I got my master's degree at twenty-one. Parents who stood in the audience and screamed themselves hoarse when I was awarded captaincy and command of my first vessel at twenty-five, youngest Captain in Starfleet's history. Adults I could go to for relationship or life advice."

Jim sighed and absentmindedly picked at the box sitting next to him. His gaze shifted to focus on Jayla now, who was watching him, confused. She didn't understand all of the specifics, but could understand that these must be grand achievements in the man's culture.

In the entrance to the hold, Carol, April, and McCoy had all gathered as well. They had left Scotty and Chekov to work on getting the ship flight-capable, and Spock was resting in the hopes of participating in whatever insane plan Jim would no doubt come up with to save the rest of the crew.

The Captain bit his lip, voice pained as his eyes glazed over in remembrance. "But I don't have that. All I have is this audio transmission I memorized when I was four." His eyes glazed over as he recalled the final words of Lieutenant Commander – Acting Captain – George Kirk. "'It's a boy.' 'Tell me about him.' 'George, you should be here.' 'Let's call him Jim. I love you, so much!'"

Carol felt a few tears escape as she listened to her fiancé's words. No child should have to have that as their final memory of a parent. McCoy looked grim, and April also looked like she was trying not to cry.

Jim sighed and focused back on Jayla, who was watching him with her eyes wide. "I like to imagine that his final 'I love you' was for me, but I'm really not sure. I grew up with people telling me my father would be proud, disappointed, 'insert descriptor here'… I've heard about how much I look like him, act like him, don't act like him…" He shook his head, annoyed. "I've had to live with those pressures and expectations since I was born, and for all that people have told me how much I'm like or not like my father, I never knew the man. No one ever really told me about the person who was George Kirk, it's always been about the Acting Captain who was in command of his vessel for twelve minutes and saved eight hundred people."

Jayla swallowed and offered, "He sounds like a hero."

Jim smiled sadly. "He was, but the point is that I never got to learn about him as a regular father whose goal in life was to embarrass his kids. The stuff so many people take for granted until it's suddenly no longer there. I never got to have that. The one thing I do have, that I hold on to as some kind of sick proof that my dad loved me, is something one of his closest friends told me years ago, when I was at the Academy. Admiral Barnett took me out for drinks on my birthday my first year, and told me about how much he hated that people remembered the sacrifice my dad made on that day, and forgot that it wasn't just a day of memorial, it was also my birthday." Jim's smile deepened, though his eyes were pained as he went on, "Barnett told me that my dad may have saved eight hundred lives that day, but the only two he cared about were mine and my mom's."

Jim grimaced. "I felt guilty for so long after that," he admitted. "Here I was holding onto this idea that he loved me enough to die for me, when if I hadn't been there at all, he probably would have gotten on a shuttle and escaped with the rest of the crew." He looked at Jayla, eyes sharp and determined. "I know what it's like to feel guilty because you're alive. My father's sacrifice, my own experiences, I know that guilt. I've felt it for years."

"How do you make it go away?" Jayla asked softly, trying not to look too eager.

Jim let out a long breath. "I don't know that it ever really does," he confessed. "But I remember the lives I've saved, all because my father made a choice to distract the Romulans from targeting the Kelvin's escape pods that day. By remembering that he was the ship's Acting Captain, and even if I hadn't been there he probably would have still stayed behind to save everyone else." He shrugged. "I never had great parental role models growing up, but I found a couple pretty good ones when I got older, and I think I get it now." He glanced up and saw the group clustered in the doorway. His eyes sought out Carol, and he smiled softly. "I've only known I'm going to be a dad for a couple days, but I don't just think anymore – I know now why my dad made the choices he did. Because if it was my kid's life on the line? I would move mountains."

He turned back to Jayla and saw that she understood. "Jayla, your father would have done anything to see you safe. I know how much it hurts to lose loved ones, and I know you don't want to go back to that place, but right now my family is in danger. There's nothing I wouldn't do for them, no obstacle I wouldn't cross or bridge I wouldn't burn, and this man has them captive. I need to get them back, and to do that, I need your help. I promise you we won't leave you behind. You are a part of this family now, and if you're willing to help, I think we can honor your father's sacrifice and get justice for him and everyone else who has died because of this psycho's actions."

Jayla didn't look completely convinced, but she nodded readily. "I know a way in," she admitted. "I can get you there. But we won't stay hidden for long."

Jim nodded in thought. "So we'll just need a distraction then." His gaze swept around the room and once more landed on the vintage motorcycle in the corner. His eyes lit up as his mind began working out the possibilities.

"I've got an idea."

I had to throw in the conversation about the necklace – McCoy is my favorite part of any reboot Star Trek movie, and I loved that scene. Please review!