Second chapter, yay! :D I torture Jim quite a bit in this chapter...but next chapter we get to see wee!Spock, I promise ;3

The small, wake-like mingling after the ceremony couldn't be called pleasant. Quiet was more like it, with everyone feeling the pain of what happened together, even those trying to hide it. The quiet however was promptly broken by the alarm going off, the computer signaling the opening of the sub hanger doors where their miniature ship was held. The non-Enterprise crew guests were startled, but those who were a part of the crew immediately took their stations. Noting Kirk's absence, Spock strode briskly to the command chair and dialed in the Galileo's frequency.

"This is First Officer Spock of the USS Enterprise of which you are commandeering the reconnaissance and exploration vehicle Galileo I. State your name and purpose before security comes in to arrest you."

There was a moment of pause before a voice no one had expected came out over the system in the chair right back at him. "Really doubt you're going to let them do that with the doors open, Spock," Captain Kirk said with almost good humor.

Another pause before a dark expression came over the Vulcan's expressionless face, making the rest of the crew silently pray for the fool on the other end. "Captain, what precisely do you think you're doing?"

"Not entirely sure myself, but I figured it's worth a shot."

"Captain, whatever it is you are planning, I make the request you cease it now and return to the bridge." The look on his face and the tone of his voice made everyone aware it was not a request. Pike got the Command Officer's attention and he frowned. Spock just returned his gaze to the console. Both knew this would not be good on the rookie Captain's record and could very well mean his whole career if not properly explained.

"Nah, I think I'd prefer the possibility of dying to you and the others chewing me out right now." Spock glared, deciding not to comment on any attempt to eat his Captain, and instead began to type as rapidly as he could into the available keyboard. "Also, don't bother with the override, I just took care of that." The Science Officer glared as a message the direct router to Galileo's controls was circumvented to a route that would take him at least an hour to navigate. The man had thoughtinadvance for this apparently.

Spock almost recoiled on instinct when Dr. McCoy suddenly pressed in close to him so he could yell into the receiver. "Jim, I don't find that funny!"

"Heh, sorry Bones. Just being realistic, I got slim chances…"

"What the hell are you talking about?!" the man barked, eyes on the console as if that would give him the answers.

"Let's just say I'm going to find out if you can slingshot through time."

The man gaped and Spock quirked an eyebrow at the statement. "Have you gone out of your fucking gourd!?" For once the Vulcan was inclined to agree.

"Possibly…"

"Captain, whatever you are planning, please reconsider. The Enterprise needs a Captain and if I am to surmise, you are planning something that is likely to kill you." Dr. McCoy gave him an odd look at that bet just turned his attention back to the console when Jim's voice returned.

"You all worry too much…But hopefully this will all change for the better." They all heard the sound of engines taking off and looked up as Galileo streamed from the open doors out into space in a rabbit dash.

"What the hell is he doing?!" McCoy yelled as they all watched from the bridge as small ship carried Kirk away. "Get his ass back here so I can kick it! Use that tractor beam thing!"

"He's already out of range!" Sulu said, staring in shock. "He must've gunned it right out of the gate, so to speak."

"Vhat could the Keptin be planning…?" Chekov muttered.

"The hell if I know but I swear to god when I get my hands on him, I'm gonna screw my Hippocratic Oath and kill that son o f a-"

"Doctor, please calm yourself," Spock said, though he was staring intently out at the ship as well. If he followed its course right with his eyes, it looked almost like it was heading for the largest star in the system. He glanced around at everyone present, the surprised faces of the crew mingled with the stoic masks of the Vulcans. All but one which caught his eye after a moment.

His elder self was at the very front of the bridge, staring at the ship as it jetted off. His elderly face held no trace of expression, but vaguely he thought he could sense like exasperation, worry and remorse hanging in the air around him like orbiting satellites.

"Jim, what have you done…?" he heard him say quietly, and Spock knew right away who to question for his Captain's sudden departure.

Jim felt the gravity pulling at him more and more as the small ship rocketed towards the star. He hit the light screen button to protect his eyes as best he could, though it was still hard to see with a star filling his vision. I only have one chance at this…more than likely my fuel is going to be gone, and Galileo can just barely get to the amount of warp I need with it…good possibility I'll be floating with no power and very little time on life support for a while afterwards...why am I doing this again?

His mind called up the image of Vulcan's destruction again and he gritted his teeth.

Jim closed his eyes and tried to turn his head away as the light became brighter, the ship passing just around the edge of the star's gravitational pull in curved U-Turn maneuver. A timer he set for the exact time to break free went off and he brought his fist down on the control switch. He was thrown back and to the side, having neglected his harness in his haste to get out of the hanger, and then hurled to the back of the ship as it jumped forward. It felt like every year he was trying to take back was being pulled out the back of his body, pinned down from the force to the hull.

The ship rocked again as he came out of the warp and he rolled around again. Groaning, he turned and lay on his back to stare at the ceiling. "Computer…estimated time difference from point of origin…" There was no answer. "Computer?" The lights above flickered and he cursed, covering his eyes with his hand. "Great…fanfreaking tastic, Jim…you're going to die in space who knows where cause you blew your fuel and batteries on an attempted jaunt through time…gotta admit, not the way I pictured, but at least it'll be painless…"

An alarm started going off and he cursed himself and the ship before quickly skittering to the controls. He gaped however when he looked out the window.

A red planet streaked in oranges and golds like the sunrise on Earth was in front of his ship. Jim recognized it immediately and almost wept for joy when he realized he had in fact done it. He had traveled back through time. He had gone back to when Vulcan was whole. He'd even been catapulted almost right to it thanks to his trajectory equations. He saw no sign of the Narada, and he wasn't sure when exactly he had arrived, but knew it was a matter of time and he had to get down there to warn them.

The ship rocked again and Jim blanched when he realized Vulcan's gravitational pull had a hold on the little ship and was reeling it in like a small silver minnow. His hands flew over the controls, but his fuel tanks were practically non existent and his power was failing from the stress of the slingshot maneuver. Jim swallowed his panic, quickly going through every idea he had as his ship began to enter the atmosphere. He managed to get a little power to the shield generator, enough that he wasn't baked like a ham inside the ship, but his speed and fall was not good. He strapped himself in finally, intent on not being tossed around like a die anymore.

Die…I'm gonna die…I'm gonna die…I just…I just wanted to stop it…to stop it from happening…

Not sure what else to do he pulled the lever for the emergency shoots and shifted all remaining fuel and power to the landing gear to slow his descent as much as possible before he began to black out from the life support fizzling away and the feeling of meeting death head on.

His life didn't flash before his eyes like he always heard, and for that he was somewhat grateful. Even if a recount of the beautiful ladies in his life would've been nice at the end. Oddly enough, the last image his mind chose to leave him with were a pair of dark eyes staring at him, both exasperated and warm, and then almost begging him to live.

Pain. Pain was the first thing he felt as he woke. The worst was his head, though the rest of his body was a close second.

Why?

He couldn't remember. Trying to hurt his head more.

The second thing he felt was heat. He was inside an oven. He was being baked. Something was going to eat him. He didn't want to be eaten.

He tried to move but found he couldn't. He was pinned to whatever he was sitting on. Looking down, he saw straps holding him in a tight embrace. At the front was a big red thing he somehow knew he had to push to be let go. His hand missed the first time, and the second, but it brushed it hard enough the fourth to snap open and release him so he could fall gracelessly to the ground without its support. He groaned, pain more evident now as his body tried to move. He had to move. He had to get out of there, before…before something.

Slowly he rolled over, pushing himself up. His vision pitched and rolled, his eyes trying to find their place in his head again. His stomach joined the barrel rolls and he heaved, whatever that had been inside him now outside of him. His organs might've been among that, but he didn't want to look and find out. He was too busy trying to remember how the rest of his body worked.

He set his hand down and hissed as more pain entered his body. Looking down, shiny bits of broken…glass? Yes, glass was in his hand. It was all over the floor in front of him, remnants of what he thought might've been some kind of window. He managed to push himself up though, trying to ignore the pain and blood trickling over his hands. There was another sharp pain in his leg, but it wasn't so bad he couldn't limp two steps forward before leaning heavily against the wall. The metal shell around him was dented, filled with holes of jagged metal like it had rolled several dozen times over something hard and pointy before coming to a stop finally.

A voice in his head said he was lucky to be alive. It was a familiar voice, but he couldn't place it right then. Right then all he could think was I'm in pain and it's hot. He started to shuffle around, wanting to get out of the shell. He didn't want to be here, it was hot, it was small, he didn't know why he was here, he didn't understand how he got there, he didn't want to be here!

Leaning against one side of the shell, he thought for a moment he fell out of his body. But really his body fell out of the shell. The fall was broken by a soft mound of sand that burned like a funeral bonfire in the shade of the structure. Every grain was a burst of fire in his cuts. He cried out and floundered a moment, sending sand skittering about, till he managed to get up and look around. Before him was a world of sand and stone, the sand a reddish gold sea and the stones were bloody pillars that rose from it, keeping the sky above from crashing down on him. It was beautiful, terrifying, and somehow familiar. He began walking out, away from his ship without really thinking, just focusing on the new world surrounding him. Part of him said this was a bad idea, but another said that there was nothing here for him and to just keep moving, to stay awake.

His mind whirred, trying to remember where he was and why. He had something important to do. Something vital, something only he could do now. When he tried he saw snippets of things he didn't understand, though he knew were just as important. People's faces, many people. Men, women, a young boy, an old man. Flashes of others were strange, skin tones that covered the spectrum and features that were both odd, yet somehow calmingly familiar. Sometimes he could just make out a different sort of person. He looked human, what he could remember of human, yet…not. But when he tried to focus on that person, he saw dark eyes alight with emotions. When the eyes turned angry, he flinched and slowed down, breathing heavier. But then the eyes were sad. A deep sadness, the kind that is cut into someone deeper than skin and bone and can't be healed easily. And he moved forward again.

At some point it was just too hot. He couldn't take it so with out really thinking he pulls the shirt from his body and drops it into the sand without a look back. He winces, feeling cuts opening and oozing again as well as the start of a bad sunburn on his neck. The burning heat travels down his back and that voice is there again, calling him an idiot and ranting about something called UV radiation, skin cancer, and the pain he'll be in later. He's in pain now, the fact it won't let up soon isn't too much of a shock to him. Right then all he really knew was pain, heat and walking.

Pain.

Heat.

Walking.

Thirst soon joined his limited sliver of reality. Walking was becoming hard, but his body was moving on autopilot. He glanced at his skin once and wished he hadn't. The tops of his arms were turning the same hot red as the stone pillars in the distance. Being made of flesh and not stone though, some areas were also beginning to bubble with blisters. He wondered if he could survive if his skin began to burn off.

Luckily just few hours, though it felt like days, after he started out the fiery ball in the sky dipped below the horizon. The horrible heat went with it, but as the temperature began to drop until he found extreme cold just as worse. His skin however had eaten the heat as it burned and he could still feel it swimming under his skin. But it offered little comfort at all with the pain. A slight breeze coasted over him, and though it soothed the burning of his back, the rest of his body was shivering. Or shaking, perhaps from his injuries and thirst, but his mind was still fragmented to far to think.

In the distance he heard what sounded like steel scraping across steel. It echoed again moments later and dimly he thought it might actually be some kind of animal. His mind was telling him to run but as weak as he was he didn't think he could. He just kept walking. Step after step after step until suddenly his leg buckled and he landed in the now cold sand.

Am I going to die now? I…I thought that before…a lot before…several times, right? I never did...the faces flashed before him again, ending with those dark sad eyes. Not yet…if I didn't die before, not now…I still have something to do, I know it…I…I want those eyes to stop looking so damn sad…whoever's they are…wherever they are…I came here to do that…

He managed to get his arms to reach out, trying grip the sand as if he could pull himself forward with it. It dug into his cuts again, making him suck in a breath, but soon managed to push himself up and start forward again.

The screeching, grating howls were getting closer and in the distance he saw a giant shape moving towards him. The smell of his blood and sweat was being carried by the slight wind over the dunes. It was no wonder it could find such easy prey. This was familiar as well, the cold, the pain and some kind of animal he couldn't identify rushing towards him. The situation made him think he should run, but he was lucky he was keeping upright.

Both he and the creature jumped when there was the sound of a weapon being fired in the air. The arch of light was visible in the distance, close. He dimly recognized the sound, knew it from his past. He used to have the thing that made that sound but he didn't bring it with him. He wondered why. The creature howled again, making his flesh crawl, before it turned and ran the other way from him. Jim stared for a moment, wondering where the sound had come from, before a moving metal shell of some kind crest a nearby dune and move towards him. It wasn't large, smaller than the metal shell he'd escaped from, but this one was shiny, smooth, and could move. It stopped just before him, hovering, and he wondered if he should run again. Part of him said no, and it was a part of him he trusted.

The side of the shell opened up and a man dressed in a long coat and hood stepped out. The man stared at him, though his face was perfectly emotionless as he looked him over. Turning back, he called into the shell with a slightly raised but perfectly flat voice he couldn't understand. Another head poked out, this one a woman he thought. It was hard to tell with the coat and expressionless faces. She spoke back to the man, one slanted eyebrow arched inquisitively. They continued to chat, practically ignoring him though he had a feeling that he was what they were talking about. This didn't sit well with any part of him. He took one shaky step forward, opening his mouth to say…something. And promptly collapsed again.

He felt hands on him after a moment, trying to lift him. They touched his burned skin and he screamed, convulsing as his nerves were lit once more. Above him he heard another scream, the man he thought was trying to turn him over. There was a pause as he tried to recover, almost blacking out. Then he felt the hands again. He tried to move but they were strong hands and the held him in place as he was quickly lifted and set on his back something wonderfully cool and soft and not made of sand. He tried to look up and he saw both of them take the ends of what he was placed on and lift him effortlessly, carrying him inside the shell.

Their shell was warm inside, but without the blistering light and heat bearing down on him it was bearable. They set him down and the man headed to the front of the ship. The woman pulled a box over and rifled through it before bringing out a cylinder of some kind. She opened the top and poured an orange colored liquid into it before setting the cylinder down and placing the top to his dry lips.

"Mon-tor. M…Drink. You are severely dehydrated." Her voice was still calm and emotionless, but she was very insistent.

His tongue poked out to try and moisten his lips to no avail before he let her tip it gently. The liquid was bitter but it was liquid and he did his best to swallow. He coughed slightly as it moved down his throat, feeling some trickle down his cheek after missing. She said nothing, merely wiped his mouth and did it again.

A part of him said "Make a nurse joke, she'll think you're charming", but he could barely comprehend what a joke was, talking was out of the question.

"You are human, aren't you? How did you get here?"

He stared and she seemed to know he wouldn't be answering questions from that look. She was smart, if perhaps unsure what to do in this situation. They're really smart people after all, these…these… his mind gave up. He could feel the pieces trying to come together again, but it was slow and laborious and he just didn't have the ability to focus. Like doing a puzzle blindfolded with only an hours worth of sleep in a couple of days.

He heard more than felt the shell lift up again and turn gently, floating away from where they'd found him. The woman continued coaxing him to drink for a while longer before he felt himself swimming in and out of consciousness. There was a pounding in his head, a beat that was starting to drown out any other sound. He heard her speak to the man dimly, from far away through a pane of glass, in that odd language he didn't know before everything went black and he fell into a blissful state of complete nothingness.