The Once & Future Captain

Part 2

On the night before their ominous meeting with Admiral Pike, Spock and Nyota sat in Spock's quarters as they did every night they had off together. The pair of them discussed many topics, trying to ignore the most pressing one at hand. However, inevitably the topic eventually turned to Jim's strange behavior. Neither Spock nor Uhura had come away feeling particularly hopeful for the upcoming briefing.

"Spock, has the captain even given a hint about what this briefing is about? Having an admiral actually beam aboard for a briefing rather than use secure sub-space channels isn't exactly promising."

Spock looked down at Nyota who was resting her head on his lap; she was more worried about Jim than she'd care to admit. She respected Jim and considered him a friend, but she never encouraged any of the deeper intimacy that Spock had come to learn could be shared in friendships. "You are worried about the Captain, though you will not say so outright," he commented instead of answering her question. "You and the Captain share a friendship, so I do not understand why you hide your concern."

"He's always seemed so invincible," Nyota said, setting down the PADD she had been studying. "Even when he was an aimless townie hitting on me years ago, he showed no fear. It was like he could take on the world, even if he didn't realize it." She sat up straight and turned to him. "Think about everything we've been through; he's been remarkable. But this, whatever this is, has him scared. And if this has someone like Kirk scared, what does that mean for us?" She asked. "Everyone has a breaking point and whatever it is that can drive Kirk to his, I'm not sure I want to know anything about it."

Spock considered what she had said. Her reasoning was illogical and flawed by emotion. Yet his mother had been the same way. He recognized what she had called 'common sense' in Nyota's words. "I am sure the Captain will perform admirably, Nyota."

She said nothing further, but frowned as she went about her nightly routine. She was still frowning slightly when she curled up to him in sleep. Her worry pained him.

At precisely 0930 hours, Spock and Nyota made their way to the briefing together. The senior crew had been summoned and while each was nervous about what all the mystery was about, all were also extremely curious.

Spock studied Nyota as they walked. She was barely mouthing Andorian verb conjugations in the middle-class dialect, a habit he'd learned she practiced when she was worried.

The corridors were busy, filled second shift for shore leave was walking past them, heading for the transporter rooms. Crew morale had, as Jim predicted, been boosted slightly by the promise of shore leave. The crew was paying little attention to the senior staff and their comings and goings. Which was fortunate, since Nyota had the distinct impression that this upcoming mission was something that would not be widely publicized.

They were the last two members to enter the conference room. Scotty and Chekov were standing by one of the large windows, intensely discussing the latest theory regarding inter-space physics. Sulu, tapping out something on his PADD, was sitting near the head of the table along with Dr. McCoy and Admiral Pike. A woman she didn't know, but who bore the rank of captain was seated next to Pike. At the far end of the table, sitting together and looking for all the world like they'd rather be anywhere else were Captain Kirk and Lieutenant Riley.

Uhura and Spock took their seats, followed by Scotty and Chekov.

"Spock, you did secure the room, correct?" Pike asked.

"Indeed I did, Sir."

"Good." Pike cast his impressive gaze around at the crew. "It needs to be understood that the information you are about to receive is classified and therefore will not go beyond this room." They all nodded. "The PADDs you see before you are all Starfleet Intelligence issue and are locked to your biological signatures. The information loaded onto them is tamper-proof and cannot be copied or transferred electronically. Any attempts to do so will send an alert to Starfleet and the officer or officers in question will be disciplined accordingly." He gave a grim smile. "I trust none of you are eager to be uninvited from Starfleet, so I'm not expecting any issues. And yes, this includes making amendments to medical records, Dr. McCoy, even your hand-written, personal copies," Pike continued when Bones opened his mouth. "This information is sealed for a reason and it will continue to be sealed and this little briefing will not go on any official records or logs. Starfleet Intelligence has already signed off, so don't get your regulation-loving selves in a dither. Also, these are burn outs that will be erased by SI at the end of this mission."

"Are we going to get to the point, Admiral?" The woman spoke.

"Yes, we are, Number One," he said, pressing a button on table. A 3-dimensional projection of a planet appeared before them. "The planet you are looking at is Tarsus IV."

"Wait," Sulu interrupted. "This is what all the secrecy is about? A dead rock?" He noticed Pike's irritated expression. "With all due respect, Admiral, it's a matter of public record that Tarsus IV experienced a natural geological disaster that made it unsuitable for the Earth colony that was attempted. More than half the colony was wiped out because the planet ended up being so unstable."

"You are correct, Lieutenant," Number One said. "But that is public record. I am afraid that the situation is actually far more complicated."

"Okay then," Bones asked. "What happened? Why all the fuss?"

"Tarsus IV is a dead rock, that is true. But it wasn't a geological disaster that made the planet uninhabitable or what killed the colonists," Pike said. He cast a look down the table at Jim and Riley. "The Tarsus IV colony was meticulously planned. The applicants to cultivate the planet were screened and vetted carefully. Every factor was taken into consideration. The individuals and families chosen all had qualities and skills needed to get a planet moving, so to speak."

At Number One's motioning, they all activated their PADDs. "Back in those days, decontamination procedures for shuttles and transporters were not standardized throughout Starfleet or the rest of the Federation. More than one planet has experienced devastating consequences because no thought was given to how soil from a person's boots would affect the eco-system of a neighboring planet.

"Nine years into the colonization, an exotic fungus was inadvertently transferred into the Eco-system where it proceeded to ravage and destroy entire fields of crops within weeks. Then it turned to the forests and other plant life."

"Is that what killed the colonists, the fungus?" Chekov asked, scrolling through his PADD.

"No."

Everyone looked up and over at Jim. It was the first time he'd spoken since the briefing had started. Pike looked at Jim expectantly, buy he simply shook his head and motioned for Number One to continue.

"During this period of agricultural disaster, the man in charge of the Colony was a man named Kodos." Jim and Kevin tensed up just slightly, everyone noted. "He sent distress signals to Starfleet for aid, but the communications were scrambled and they weren't received in time. It was after this failure on Starfleet's part that he took matters into his own hands."

All looked up, PADDs forgotten.

"Kodos came to the radical conclusion that in order for the colony to survive, certain colonists would have to die. He drew up two lists, those who were going to live and continue on with the colony and those who were not," Number One said bluntly. "He drew up these lists in accordance with his own personal theories on eugenics and half of the colony was murdered. Yes, Mr. Scott?"

Scotty had his hand raised, looking nervous. "Um, I have two questions, actually. First, if the planet is dead, then how are we supposed to breathe whilst down there?"

"According to our blueprints of the colony, there were artificial oxygen generators throughout the planet. Like all colonies, the settled part and surrounded areas of the planet were under atmosphere domes. They should still be working, since there were no reports of any damage to the vital systems of the planet. Scans of the planet when you arrive should let you know if it's safe to beam down without oxygen packs," Number One answered. "What was your second question?"

"What exactly does this mission have to do with the Captain and Lieutenant Riley?"

"We survived," Riley said quietly. "Jimmy and I were both living on Tarsus IV when everything happened."

A heavy silence settled itself in the room. Jim was defiantly meeting anyone's gaze, daring anyone to try to show him pity. Riley's look was unreadable, but he was a far cry from the carefree jack-of-all trades lieutenant they were so used to seeing.

"Why is none of this public?" Chekov asked.

"Part of it was to protect Starfleet and the Federation," Pike admitted heavily. "But mostly it was to protect the survivors."

"Really?" Nyota asked skeptically. "The murder of over 4,000 colonists was redacted to protect the other 4,000 who didn't die?"

"Yes," Jim said tersely.

"When the survivors were debriefed, everyone wanted the same thing: not to be reminded of it. They wanted what happened buried. The geological disaster story came about to protect the survivors," Pike said.

"So what, that gave Starfleet the right to decide what everyone else would be told?" Nyota pressed, outraged.

"You're damn right it did!" Jim yelled, slapping his hands down on the table hard enough that everyone who wasn't Pike, Number One, or Spock jumped in their seats. This was new. They'd all seen Jim at various levels of irritation and stressed, but never such outright, terrifying anger. "What do you think would have happened if it hadn't been covered up? How do you think the survivors would have been treated? Sure, there would have been sympathy at first, outrage at the horror we had to endure. Then the dissent would start. 'Why were they good enough to live?' 'Just what did they do or promise in order to be spared?' And it wouldn't have stopped until every single person who survived that hell was put on trial for all the Federation to see." He gave a harsh laugh.

"It's not like really matters, though, since more than two-thirds of the survivors have committed suicide since then anyway. They couldn't take the guilt. I mean really, how do you deal with it?" He asked, suddenly speaking softly. "How do you wake up, day after day, and look at yourself in the mirror knowing that you survived and others didn't?" His voice got louder. "How do you even begin to reconcile the fact that the only reason you're alive is because in one man's sick and twisted mind, you were more worthy to live than everyone else around you?" Jim looked at Nyota, who was looking at him with sympathetic eyes, all outrage forgotten as she processed Jim's words. "How do you do it? If you find away, let me know, will you? Because I've been trying for over eleven years and I still can't figure it out."

Everything and nothing was spoken as silence filled the room. So many questions the crew had had about Jim were suddenly, horribly answered.

"I'm not saying I agree with it," Sulu said finally. "But I can kind of see why the geological story makes sense. Look at human nature throughout history. Humanity has had the unfortunate tendency to blame the victims, even if we're outraged at the situation."

"It is like the Kobayashi Maru," Chekov added thoughtfully, looking troubled. "If you died, then you are dead. But it does not matter that you survived either, because all you feel is the guilt. You cannot win."

Jim snorted.

"Tarsus IV deserved more than to be made a spectacle of," Pike said. "The dead deserved their peace and they got their justice when Starfleet forces gunned down Kodos. The survivors deserved their peace as well; the last thing they needed was to have their experience put on display for all to see. If this had gone public it would have been disastrous, just like Kirk said. There would have been inquiries and demand for the survivors to be put on trial. It's not an ideal situation - no one will deny that - but Starfleet, the Federation, and the colony survivors discussed this for months."

"How did he do it?" Bones asked, ignoring the fact that he could have easily found the answer on his PADD. "How did Kodos manage to do away with 4,000 people? The weapons that colonists are given before embarking on their journeys are rudimentary at best. How could he have found the firepower?"

"You'll see," Jim said quietly.

"How?"

"Because you're going there," Pike said. "On Tarsus IV there is a piece of technology that Starfleet needs. It's a translation device, possibly the most sophisticated ever attempted. It goes beyond our universal translators' capabilities."

"Why is it so critical?" Nyota asked, intrigued at the thought of a more advanced translation device. "If it's so important, why has it been left there?"

"The Federation has been courting several different races to join. A few of them have difficult languages to navigate and are rather pedantic about how their language is handled. It's imperative that we can communicate without insulting them. Among these races are the Balgoths and the Murcatians, whose planets are at critical areas near Klingon space. Frankly speaking, we can't afford to lose them as allies to the Romulan or Klingon empires." He met the eyes of every person at the table. "With the destruction of Vulcan and the decimation of more than half of our fleet, the Federation is in a precarious position, unfortunately."

No one could dispute this; Vulcan had been critical to the formation of the Federation. Some planets had only joined because the Vulcans had lent the fledgling alliance an air of security, stability, and respectability. While the establishment of the new Vulcan home world was progressing smoothly, it was difficult for the Vulcan ambassadors to focus on both their duties to the Federation and to New Vulcan.

"The translator in question, from it's preliminary designs, is the most advanced we've ever seen. It's critical because if it works like it should, it learns. The translators we use have to be re-programmed and updated constantly. This device does it itself, integrating and correlating formal and informal language, along with cross-referencing it with other known languages."

"Why has it been left so long?" Scotty asked.

"There were more pressing issues at the time. Also, the records have been sealed for years. It was only a chance happening that one of the surviving friends of the colonist developing the translator mentioned it to us when we brought him in as a xenolinguistics consultant for these upcoming negotiations."

"Who was the colonist developing it?" Nyota asked, noticeably intrigued by the notion of such a groundbreaking translation device.

"Lieutenant Commander Hoshi Sato," Number One answered. "She was killed protecting one of the children on the colony from execution."

"Where on the planet is this translator located?" Spock asked, finally speaking.

"That's just it," Pike answered. "We don't know. Hoshi Sato was a noted eccentric and a very private person. She had a lab near her residence, but it was destroyed in the chaos of the famine and subsequent executions ordered by Kodos. She wouldn't have kept something so precious in her house, either. She would have made sure it was protected beyond all reason."

"Is there any way to track it?" Chekov asked. "Anything for us to go on at all?"

"A good part of the planet was uncharted - the colonists hadn't gotten as far as colonizing the entire planet. The coordinates are on your PADDS for the areas the colonists had cultivated. Now the entire planet is dead, of course, but I doubt she would have stashed it outside of the colony area." Pike said reasonably.

"And does this damn golden apple even work?" Bones asked. "Or are we going to get there and just find a couple of goddamned wires connected to a circuit board with chewing gum?"

"We don't know," Number One said, seemingly amused by Bones's grumpy mood. "However it has been decided that the benefits of trying far outweigh the drawbacks of not trying." She looked around the conference table and frowned inwardly. The people around her had no idea what they were about to witness, to encounter. Eleven years on and she still had nightmares about those horrible days when their ship had arrived too late. The faces, the bodies, they'd never left her. She didn't think they ever would.

"And what if it's not there? What if it was somehow destroyed?" Sulu asked. "Or what if the information was just preliminary and nothing had been started?"

Pike shook his head, a mild look of exasperation on his face. "You're a damned inquisitive bunch, I can tell you that. From what we at Command understand, it's there. And it's up to you all to find it. Once you do, you're to send me a priority 1 message and we'll rendezvous at Outpost Gamma 4. I should be finishing up the new treaty between the Melthusas and the Caritasians."

"What you must remember is that outside of your group, no one else is to beam down. And absolutely no one is to breathe a word about what you've learned and seen," Number one stressed. "For all accounts this should be a job for Starfleet Intelligence, but Command felt that the personal experiences of both Captain Kirk and Lieutenant Riley better qualified the Enterprise for this mission."

"I believe we're done here," Pike said. "Dismissed." Before he could open his mouth to say another word, Jim had quickly stood and left the room, Riley looking after him with an unreadable expression. The others didn't quite know what to say. It had been painfully obvious how uncomfortable Jim had been through the entire meeting.

"Is that how it feels, Riley?" Sulu asked softly. "Is there the constant guilt for you too?"

Riley met Sulu's eyes, trying to get a read on him. "It's different from Jim's," he answered finally.

"But obviously you were on the list too, or you wouldn't be here," Sulu said, confused. Did Riley just not care as much? He'd seemed more composed than Jim had.

"I was on the list," Riley said. "Just not the list of the colonists meant to live."

His words sunk in and the attention, already focused on him from every person in the room, was intensified. Riley hadn't been one of the chosen half, he'd been marked for death. Yet here he sat in front of them, alive and well.

"How did you manage to survive?" Pike asked.

"Jimmy. The day it all started, the executions, there was a scuffle of panic. My mom and dad had picked me up from school and said we were supposed to go to the community center; they didn't know why. But there were some colonists who'd apparently heard rumors and started to riot." Riley pointedly ignored the array of looks bestowed upon him: pity, sympathy, sadness, and curiosity. "I didn't know what to do, mom and dad were separated from me forcibly by the enforcers and I looked for a place to hide; I was so scared. Nothing like that had ever happened there, you see. There were fires and screaming and so many people on the ground, injured. But in the panic and confusion, Jimmy found me. He'd been looking everywhere for me, he told me later." Riley looked down at his hands, as if lost in another time and place. "But then, he just grabbed my hand and told me to run. So we ran."

"I shouldn't be alive; I know that. I was marked to die and yet, here I am. All because Jim didn't have the good sense to stay put like the other colonists were told." He finally met the stares of the crew around him. "I'm not even going to begin to try and explain what it was like there, because you'll be seeing parts of it first hand soon enough. But coming through something like that, somehow, impossibly, surviving? I don't even have the words to describe how hard it is."

With those last words, Riley stood and left, leaving a conference room full of worried officers.

Jim wasn't surprised that Uhura found him first; he'd not been in the mood for deep inner-speculation, and as such, had avoided his favorite secluded observatory spot in a rarely visited part of the ship (and in doing so, had avoided Bones). He'd gone down to the shuttle bays instead and found a shuttle to sit in.

"Captain?"

Jim didn't say anything, just pushed the right button on the control panel to unlock the shuttle door, and another to activate the hydraulic lift of the door.

Uhura gracefully climbed in, looking very much at home in the small shuttle. Sometimes Jim thought that nothing fazed her; that she was always at home no matter the situation. He childishly didn't speak; if she was seeking him out, it was because shehad something to say. He wasn't going to ease her into it.

"I'm sorry for my behavior earlier, Captain," she said. "I'm not sorry for the way I feel, but I am sorry for the unprofessional behavior I displayed."

"You still think how the massacre on Tarsus IV was covered up was wrong?" Jim asked.

"Yes, Sir, I do. I suppose I can understand the reasoning behind it, but I still think it's wrong. Of course, I'm biased against such situations."

Jim looked at her and gave a grim smile. "I know. You've requested Africa's Unification Day off every year you've served." He smiled wider at her startled look. "I know my African history, Uhura, though I'm not a citizen and obviously don't hold the same expertise of the country as you do," he said. "But knowing what I know about you and the kind of person you are, I'd be surprised if such situations like Tarsus IV didn't elicit that sort of emotional response, to be honest."

Uhura looked at him with that special look of hers that said he'd clearly surprised her with his insight. Jim liked that look, to be honest. He'd craved Uhura's respect since he'd met her, and if that look got him one step closer to that respect, he'd gladly take it.

"If you wish to write me up-" she started.

"I'm not going to write you up," Jim said simply, cutting her off. "I suppose Spock could always spank you, but you'd probably enjoy that," he said blithely and then snorted at the look on her face. "Look, it's been a tense few weeks, Uhura, and except for Spock, our emotions were all at heightened levels in that meeting, so don't worry about it."

"Captain-"

"Jim," he said pointedly.

"J-Jim," she said, clearly having problems addressing him as such; he'd been "You!" or "Kirk" or "Captain" for so long. "Are you going to be okay?"

Jim shrugged. "I'm going to have to be, aren't I?"

He left her in the shuttle.

"Are you going to tell me what the hell that was about in there?" Pike asked, easing himself into the soft chair in his quarters.

Number One sat in the chair opposite, her fingers flying gracefully over the PADD in her hands. "I was on the rescue ship that found Kirk, Riley, and the other children," she said. "I saw the aftermath of Tarsus IV."

"So that's why Starfleet tasked you with this," Pike said, suddenly understanding. "I was wondering if they'd just sent you for your good looks."

She looked over at him sharply and then smirked when she saw that he'd been teasing her. "They've helped before," she admitted. "As you well know."

"What was it like?"

Number One sighed and set down her PADD. With S.I. temporarily lifting the redaction on the Tarsus IV information, she was at liberty to discuss it with her superior on the mission. "It was like nothing I'd ever seen. You and I saw all kinds of strange things while we served together, Christopher, but nothing was like this, thankfully."

"I was a lieutenant on the USS Cole, when we received the distress signal from the planet. Two other ships had heard it before us and we were the last ship to arrive. The Endeavor and the Ramesses were already evacuating the survivors and said they'd found everyone. But Captain Trill said that he wanted us to be positive before leaving the planet."

She steepled her fingers in front of her. "There were bodies laying in the streets. Those who were still alive were so thin they couldn't stand up against the slightest breeze. Some of the buildings were still smoking from the riots. So many people dead, and the living all had the same hopeless expressions, as if they'd been praying for death."

"I set out on the outskirts of the city, because our sensors had shown faint life signs. I must have looked for hours before coming upon a cavern deep in the mountainside. And there they were, twenty-seven survivors, all children. And there was one, he couldn't have been more than fifteen, standing up to defend them. He could barely focus or stand up straight, but he stood up in front of those terrified children and demanded to know who I was and what I wanted."

She closed her eyes, reliving the memory. "I told him I who I was, that I was from Starfleet, come to rescue them. And when I asked him who he was, he stared defiantly up me and said, 'I'm Captain James Tiberius Kirk.' And then he fainted."

She shook her head. "I've never forgotten that boy, Christopher, or those other children. They were so small, so weak, even the older ones. Their eyes were sunken and they literally looked like walking corpses. But they'd managed to survive. That boy had saved them."

Pike was silent as he digested her words. With a sad look he shook his head. "Once a captain, always a captain."

"I still have nightmares about that place and all I keep thinking about is how terribly Starfleet and the Federation failed. So many lives were lost and so many others were destroyed."

"And now Starfleet's sending Kirk and Riley back to that place. I hope they know what they're doing. It's not pleasant, seeing Kirk so unsure of himself."

Number One picked up her PADD, though it was the last thing on her mind. "He fought against hell, Christopher. He can handle anything."

"I sure as hell hope you're right."

The next day saw Admiral Pike and Captain One (the senior crew had never gotten her last name) returning to the Starbase, where the Yorktown was waiting for the pair of them. It was all the crew could do not to breathe a sigh of relief, even though they all knew that according to Captain Kirk and Lieutenant Riley's behavior, the worst was undoubtedly yet to come.

After setting course for Tarsus IV - and temporarily disabling the mapping functions on the ship for all non-essential personnel - Jim had withdrawn even further into himself, much to his friends' dismay. Yet the way he did so was not the way most people would have gone about it. He was almost ruthless in his focus to the ship and their new mission. He kept himself busy, and in doing so, left no time for anyone to try and talk to him about anything resembling personal.

It seemed the only person who was able to even remotely reach him was Riley. And aside from the brief recounting in the crew meeting, the lieutenant had not divulged any other information on the Captain... or himself. It was very clear that the two of them were undergoing this mission at great personal protest and resentment.

Bones was worried for Jim, he couldn't deny that. He was also madder than hell at the idiot. Bones couldn't believe that after everything they'd been through together, that Jim would think that something he'd had no control over as a teenager would make Bones hate him. It was outrageous. And, Bones admitted to himself (though never, ever to anyone else) that it hurt. He knew that Jim had trust issues, but still... Surely after everything he and Jim had been through together, he'd proved that he could be trusted; that he wouldn't abandon him?

Bones had the feeling (and rarely was he wrong about these sorts of things, damned intuition), that nothing was going to be resolved between Jim and himself until after this whole goddamned goose chase was over. He supposed that it was too much to hope for that they could simply beam down, find the damned device in the first building they checked, and then be on their way. No, this was going to be a real pain in the ass, he was sure of it.

At 0800 hours Jim groggily woke to the sound of the intercom chime.

"Captain, we are now approaching the designated coordinates," said the ensign on duty.

"Move us into standard orbit and maintain," Jim said.

He dragged himself out of bed, a feat of immeasurable willpower. He wasn't ready for this. He wasn't ready for this by a long shot, but what choice did he have? His only other option, really, was to steal the Enterprise and it's crew and take them off to a place where Starfleet and the Federation would never find them. Except that wasn't really an option, damn it. He was Captain James Tiberius Kirk. And he was going to face this, head-on with the most fucking amazing flair possible, and then forget that the damned mission had ever existed.

He quickly showered and dressed, looking blankly at the gold Captain's shirt he'd earned. It was the first time he'd not felt the rush of elation in the pit of his stomach when looking at it. He didn't know whether that merited sadness or not.

Coming out of his quarters, he narrowly avoided a collision with Spock and Uhura, who he could only assume had left Spock's quarters together.

"Spock," he nodded. "Lieutenant Uhura."

"Captain," they both greeted. The rest of the journey to the bridge was silent. Uhura didn't seem to know what to say; Spock was just being normal. And Jim? He really wasn't in the mood for chatter.

The bridge was already switching over to alpha shift; Chekov had replaced the ensign who had woken Jim. Sulu was entering from the opposite turbo lift. Jim sat down in his chair without a word, pushed a button on the armrest and saw that Scotty was already in engineering (assuming, of course, that he'd actually left - it was hard to tell).

"Reports?"

"Sir, we have entered standard orbit of the planet," Chekov piped up.

"Sensors are showing standard Class M readings from the planet below. Dead though the planet may be, it does appear that the oxygen generators are functioning. An away team would be in no peril should they beam down temporarily," Spock articulated. He'd not looked up from the screens in front of him whilst delivering his report.

"Talk to me, Scotty," Jim said, pressing the intercom.

"Engineering reports no major malfunctions, all diagnostics normal, Captain. And I do believe I have something that could be of help on the mission," Scotty answered.

"Great," Jim said evenly. "Okay. Uhura, Spock, and Chekov, you're with me. Scotty, meet us in transporter room 3." He was about to continue when Bones came onto the bridge. "Nice of you to finally join us, Bones."

"I wasn't aware my usual voluntary sojourn to the bridge superseded my duties to sickbay," Bones said, a superior eyebrow raised.

"Anyways," Jim continued, ignoring Bones's sarcasm. "Sulu, you'll have the ship while we're down on-planet. I'd have you down, but to be quite honest everything you'd be interested in is dead."

Sulu thought he deserved a medal for not snorting at that comment. As curious as he was about how an entire planet had died, there was little he could learn with all the time that had passed.

Jim pushed for the intercom again. "Lieutenant Riley, if you'd be so kind as to join the away team in transporter room 3," he said.

"Aye, Sir."

Jim looked around at his crew, who were all giving him even, respectful looks. "Let's go, then."

The crew wordless followed him into the turbo lift and Sulu thought they made a hilarious sight, the five of them cramming into the turbo lift in an array of gold, red and blue. Sulu snickered as soon as the doors had closed and then sent notices to the crew who would step into the alpha shift's places while the away team was... well, away.

Scotty and Riley were waiting in transporter room 3. Riley looked irritated and Scotty was fairly bouncing up and down in glee, a silver device cradled fondly in his hands.

Jim sighed as the lieutenant at the controls gave the ready. "Let's just get this done, okay?" he asked rhetorically as they all stepped onto the transporter pads. Chekov, Spock, and Uhura were all wearing phasers, just in case, and Bones had his usual med kit with him.

"Ready, Captain," Lieutenant DeBussey said.

"Energize," Jim ordered. So my return to hell begins, was his last thought.