10-41:

When Alpha beamed aboard the USS Ulysses, Jim nearly gagged at how sterile everything smelled. Lights blared overhead and bounced off of the chrome lining that surrounded the room. It all looked polished and cleaned and high-tech and foreign.

His team was crowded around him, all standing out like sore thumbs — their dark, worn-out combat gear popping out against the posh white atmosphere of the ship. They peered out from behind Jim's shoulders and out into the ship's room, eyes betrayed the awe they all were trying to suppress. It was really like stepping into a dream, all white and shining, but Jim would never admit that he was impressed.

Jim waited till all of his captain had energized next to him, the yellow sparks slowly fading away from around Pike's head as they finished piecing him back together. He watched as Pike blinked and turned his gaze towards him. He nodded and stepped off the platform.

They had made a mental agreement not to talk about Jim's break down the previous day. It was too unprofessional and too fucking degrading to bring up, so they left it alone. Jim turned to his team and flipped his pointer and middle finger forward before stepping off the platform as well. His team followed without a sound.

Pike lead them forward to a pair of large, silver doors. He stopped and Jim shot his hand up for the rest to halt. He watched as the doors opened in front of Pike, revealing the large main deck that sat behind it.

Jim shook his head as a sea of blue and red and gold assaulted his eyes. Officers bustled about, in and out of swishing doors. Clicks and beeps and voices all mingled in with the antiseptic air causing Jim's migraine to flare. No one seemed to notice them till Pike called out above the crowd, "Permission to come aboard?"

At this, the room stilled. The killer noise of the place had dropped so low that now a pin could drop on Level 5 and Jim could've heard it. Jim shifted his shoulders uncomfortably and glanced to his side. A group of crewmen were there staring at him. He managed his best scowl and looked away.

In the middle of the mob was a pale looking woman sitting with her legs crossed in the commander's chair. She turned slightly and looked over at them, her completely black eyes zoning in on them like a hawk. She stood and walked over to Pike with her hand out. "Permission granted, Captain Pike," she said through a row of sharp teeth.

Pike took the woman's hand and nodded. "Thank you, Captain. We're honored to be on your ship."

The Captain smiled tightly and dropped Pike's hand. She let her gaze flick over to Jim's for a moment. "I'm glad to see you and your team made it here without any trouble. I got report that some ships this close to Vulcan have been getting interference from the Romulans."

"All good, Captain," Pike smirked.

The Captain dipped her head, her black eyes barely registering the small smile on her lips. "Good, good. I have informed my crew of your presence on the ship, so you should have no trouble with prying eyes." The Captain shot a quick glance over her shoulder causing a cluster of crewmen to scatter like rats. "The rotorcraft that has been assigned for your mission is being held in Dock-16. If your team would please follow my first officer, he will show them to the changing bay while you and I finish out some paperwork."

Almost instantly, a large body moved in next to the woman. He stared down at Jim with blank eyes. "If you and your team would follow me, Lieutenant," the First Officer said voice brisk and official.

Jim bristled. He looked a Pike.

Pike flicked his chin towards the direction the First Officer was standing before walking off with the Captain, leaving Jim in charge.

Sighing, Jim nodded and watched as the First Officer spun of his heel and marched towards the exit door of the deck. He and the rest of Alpha tagged along and slipped out the automatic doors and into a narrow passageway.

"We have acquired pressurized mobility suits for your mission, Lieutenant. Standardized Federation masks have also been secured," the First Officer said as they walked through the passageway and into a room connected to a metal stairway. The First Officer climbed the steps in a few bounds. He stopped when he reached the top, waiting for Jim and the others to catch up.

He pointed out to his side. "These doors here will lead you into the changing bay."

Jim jumped up onto the stairs top step and craned his neck past the wall that hid the doorway from sight. He nodded. "Thank you." He turned to his team and gestured his head. Sulu was the first to brush past him then Martine and the rest.

He thanked the First Officer and watched him descend the stairs, his hulking body stalking down the steps and back into the tight walkway. "Pompous asshole," Jim muttered.

Walking into the changing bay, Jim stopped to take everything in. his team was lined up along the far wall, undressing and slipping their limbs into body fitting red suits. Martine was off to the side behind a screen, maintaining her decency as she took off her bra.

"Here, Jim."

Jim blinked and looked over at Sulu, already dressed, with a suit draped over his outstretched arm. "This one's yours."

Jim nodded and took the suit. He unfolded it and held it out in front of him. "Not much of a fashion statement," he heard Martine say as she walked out from behind the screen.

Finney whistled from his spot by the wall. "Looks good on you though. And I don't know, my ass looks pretty good in this."

"Yeah right," Lamli laughed as he tripped while sliding his bare leg through the suits hole.

Jim smirked and rolled his shirt up over his head. The clean air brushed across his exposed stomach, making him shiver. He dropped his pants and briefs around his ankles and stepped out of them, throwing all of his clothes into a vacuum-bag hanging on the wall. He slid his legs through the opening of the suit; the insulated rubber sliding over his skin and tightening around his thighs. Jim yanked the suit over his shoulders and stretched out the collar.

"Tight, huh?" Jim muttered, adjusting his balls.

"Only gets worse," Brent said coming up to Jim with a long hose. He moved Jim's arm so he could get at the small clamp along his side. He attached the hose and clicked a switch on the nozzle.

Jim jumped as his suit squeezed around his skin with a hiss. "Jesus."

"A precaution," Farrell remarked from across the room. "That Cloud 9 gas may or may not cause burns on the skin. Pressurized, these suits should keep that from happening. Also, the temperature of Vulcan is much higher than we'll be accustomed to. The suits breathe well."

Jim gave Farrell a look. "Well, glad for these then."

Sitting down on one of the white benches in the room, Jim propped one foot up on his knee and began to pull his boots on. Four metal clamps secured themselves around his calf when the boot was fully on. He spared a glance at his watch— it read 0540. They were still on time. By 0630, they would be on Vulcan.

Jim finished putting on his boots and went to slide on his gloves.

"We really have to wear these," Finney asked, holding up a chest guard with the UFP insignia and motto stamped into the foam. "We ain't no fuckin' fed-dogs."

"Tough shit," Sulu snorted, snapping on his own chest guard.

Martine let her small frame sit down next to Jim's. Her shoulder brushed against his as she slid on her boots. "I'm nervous, sir," she said after a moment, voice barely above a whisper.

A knot grew in Jim's chest. He flashed the woman a look then fiddled with his gloves. He wasn't good at comforting others, not even back then, when his mother needed someone there for her—

"Don't," Jim heard himself say. He turned till his knees bumped Martine's. She looked over at him. Jim forced a smile. "Don't worry."

Martine searched Jim's face before smiling herself. "Thank you, sir."

Jim nodded then stood up, subconsciously wanting to flee the room, but settled for putting a few feet between him and the woman. He picked a chest plate out from a holder on the wall. He slipped it on and snapped its belts across his chest and middle.

He looked around. "Where…" Jim stopped when he saw the row of large, boxy gas masks hanging across the wall on the far side of the room.

Jim walked over to the masks and slipped one off its hook. It was heavy, but not by much. The square oxygen tank the mask was connected to slid closer to his feet, its bottom screeching across the white floor. Hoisting the tank up, Jim pulled the straps that hung limply at its side over his shoulders. The weight of the tank made his back pop.

He placed his hands on either side of the mask and lowered the glass dome down around his head. His breath fogged the glass immediately. Jim locked the clamps that stuck up around the collar of the mask and a ring of metal tightened around the base of his throat.

Twisting, Jim reached around and turned on the tank. There was a click then a blast of air covered Jim's face. His hair ruffled for a moment then sat lifelessly under the helmet. Jim took in a deep breath then let it out, the visor fogging again. He blinked at the faint reflection of himself the visor caught. His face looked distorted and broken.

Turning stiffly, Jim looked across the room at his team, his breath fogging up his view of their faces.

0-0-0

Jim led Alpha out into Dock-16 when they were all dressed and ready. Pike and the rotorcraft were waiting for them.

"Kirk," Pike nodded, his movement obstructed by the gas mask on his head. His outfit was a mirror of his own. In his hand, pike held seven comm. devices. He held his hand out. "These are lined comms. They'll only work between us eight and the Ulysses. Handy things."

Jim walked forward and took the comms. He passed them out amongst the rest of the team. "So they're monitoring us, now?" he grumbled as he latched the comm. onto his left shoulder guard.

Pike gave his 1st an exasperated look. "It's not important. All they'd do with the information is write it up in a report. That's all they're good for."

"Did they hear you just now?" Jim asked, watching Pike as he glanced down at his comm. and shrugged, a smirk lining his lips.

Pike turned and walked towards the rotorcraft. The carrier was small (by Federation standards) and looked misplaced amongst the glitter and the ship's pristine technology. Its outer panels were dark and chipping and its landing gear looked a little worse for wear. The propellers that flanked the side of the craft looked newly installed, which eased Jim's suppressed worries about faulty flying. Pike tapped on the craft's side and two panels parted from each other.

Taking a leather strap in his hand, pike pulled himself onto the rotorcraft with a grunt. He turned and looked down at his team with his hands on his hips. "Let's get going, Alpha." He looked down at the touch-watch on his suit. "Are window's coming up."

Jim nodded for Sulu and the others to pass him. They did and climbed aboard the craft one by one. Out of the corner of his eye, Jim spotted a cluster of people hanging by the viewing windows on the dock, all looking in on their tip toes. Jim frowned in annoyance as he read one crewman's lips through the glass:

Kirk's kid—

Turning away, Jim brushed the image out of his head. he wasn't going through that again. Two days in a row of bitchin' about dear ol' dad was far too many for his taste.

"Doc-16's doors to open in 5 minutes," a metallic voice similar to the one at the compound called from overhead.

Jim sniffed and made his way over to the craft. He yanked the leather strap into his hand and pulled his weight up until his foot caught with the grooved flooring of the craft. Jim leaned in and felt the panels behind him shut.

Inside, the craft was tinier than expected. Martine and Sulu sat nearly shoulder to shoulder in their piloting chair, both flicking switches and testing dials. Finney, Lamli, Farrell, and Brent crowded around each other, observing the long-range rifle cannons that they would be standing behind during the mission. Pike stood in the middle of the carrier typing away on a holoscreen.

"That side," pike instructed Jim as he approached him. Jim took up the other side of the holoscreen. He watched pike through the green pixels slide and adjust numbers and graphics. "Nervous, kirk?" he asked, twisting a set of numbers with his fingers and sending them to the screen that sat in from of Sulu.

Jim's brow furrowed. "Never," he said, taking a finger and dragging a file over to his side of the screen. He opened it and the 3-D image of the pick-up area filled his screen.

"Dock-16's door to open in 2.2 minutes," Jim heard the muffled announcement from outside the craft.

"All right, buckle up," Pike shouted. He pulled a large strap down from the craft's ceiling and hooked it to his belt. He tugged it.

Jim did the same. He looked over his shoulder and watched the spotters clamp their feet into the divots in front of their guns. The craft whirred and shook when Sulu started up the engines. "Engines up, Captain."

Pike nodded, "Good."

Jim looked over at Finney, who had pulled out his cross to kiss and then at Farrell who had his eyes shut. He never understood praying, maybe it had to do with believing in science too much; there was no room for a god.

From out the front windows Jim could see the room start to slowly spin. They were soon pointed at the dock's doors, ready to zip out into the darkness.

"Dock-16 closed. All personnel stand away from the red line. Doors to open in 10…9…8…7…"

Jim swallowed as he watched the large, white door's in front of the craft creak open. It was there, space, inviting him out with open arms. Jim could see the darkness, specked with white and gold.

"…nothing out here but stars…"

The rotorcraft's engines roared as both Sulu and Martine pushed down on their thrusters. The craft inched forward one jittery step before shooting out, breaking through the gap into space before the doors finished fully opening. Jim's knuckles turned white as he gripped his line, locking his knees in hopes of not falling flat on his ass.

The pressure the jolt created lasted throughout the ship for a moment before there was a slight pop and the speed of the carrier seemed to stop. They were weightless then.

Jim eased his grip. He leaned forward and locked his eyes with the sights outside the front windows. A scattering of white and grey splotches dotted the otherwise pitch black view. As Sulu hit the second thrusters, Jim could see the splotches were ships, hundreds of ships, Federation and Vulcan alike, all crowded close to the curve a massive red planet.

"Thrusters stable. Approaching Vulcan from 44⁰," Martine said, flipping her brown hair away from her face. "We'll break the atmosphere in twelve minutes."

"Looking good, Alpha," Pike said. He tapped on the holoscreen.

Jim nearly jumped as the picture of Spock popped up on his side of the screen. He gave pike a look. His captain arched a brow. "You'll take the kid," he said, gliding his finger across another file. "I'll take Lady Amanda. We'll drop down together but you and the kid's going up first. Got me?"

Jim let pike's words sink in. he glanced at the picture and let a weak smile crawl onto his lips. Pike knew how mush this kid had come to mean to him, even if he had only seen a picture. Spock was his responsibility and mentally thanked his captain for seeing that his safety was at the top of Jim's agenda.

"Approaching atmosphere."

Sulu's voice cut through Jim's thoughts. He glanced away from the picture and out into space. Their craft passed by numerous allied ships without a second though, the red Vulcan planet increasing in size as they got closer and closer.

Jim looked back at Spock's pixelated face and felt his chest lurch.

Not that long of a chapter but here it is, chapter 3! Really getting excited about this story!

P.S: Spock will definitely be in the next chapter (not just his photo ^)