Fully secured inside their suits and with helmets at the ready, the medico and helmsman now take their respective places: Sulu at the shuttle's helm controls, McCoy at Uhura's side. A mask, full of oxygen from an on-board supply, is placed upon her face, as still she requires that vital air. Still she seems faint, unsteady. And of course, the good doctor will care for her.
"Just stay here, alright? You've done enough for now." He gives her a light tap on the arm, with all the caring tenderness that comes from a deep respect and kinship; nay, friendship.
Her response is a mere nod of the head, mildly distracted yet showing that same sentiment that he had.
Now, with metallic speckles and shards all around, their search begins, the trail the Lieutenant left is followed. Each signal from her beacon is tracked by the computer, their blips appearing on the screen. Unseen, intangible, yet so very important.
"Let's see how far your breadcrumbs can take us." The helmsman's fingers move deftly over the screen, the shuttle heeding his commands and gliding through the field with ease.
Although the search's duration has been shortened thanks to the Lieutenant's "breadcrumbs", it still remains quite gradual...and risky. The hazards brought about by the field means that there are hasty twists and turns, course corrections in order to avoid debris. And yet, the helmsman once again proves himself worthy of this venture, handling the controls with all the deftness of highly skilled hands. Despite the cautions and time taken, diligence, it seems, has finally paid off. At last, a figure is sighted amongst the scatterings of glossy metal shards.
"There he is!" Sulu's voice breaks through the silent air, and through it hope may be restored.
In turn the Lieutenant's gaze snaps to the window at the front of the vessel. Her mask removed, her form rises from her placement, hastily taking the few steps toward her crewmate.
While the path to their adrift comrade isn't entirely clear, the shuttle makes the final dash toward him all the same. Some degree of caution is still exercised, of course, as even seemingly minor damage to the vessel may disrupt their mission.
Although visually, the Vulcan's physical state may be difficult to ascertain, it will soon become apparent as the shuttle draws near and he is brought closer into view. The vessel's scanners, on the other hand, can offer the trio more in that regard. And, while it may be expected given the rather lengthy amount of time that has already passed, the information displayed on the screen does not elevate their hope.
"I'm barely reading any vitals, damn." No longer monitoring Uhura, McCoy has now positioned himself at the front with his crewmates, tapping the screen to discern something, anything that might tell the Vulcan is still alive.
The trio, even while coming closer to their comrade, are unaware of the frost marking the helmet of Spock's suit.
"I'll try to move around him", Sulu's trained fingers move over the screen as he speaks. "Get ready for when I open the door."
"You're gonna have to hold your breath, alright?" The medico makes a glance at the Lieutenant, with a palm placed on her shoulder.
A swift nod is what she gives McCoy in response, to show that she understands, that she knows what she'll have to do. Her two companions don their respective helmets, readying themselves to receive their fallen crew member. As for her own helmet, which is placed nearby, that will be worn the very moment before the hatch is opened; this is to reduce the time that her breathing is halted.
Once the shuttle is directly behind the Vulcan, it is carefully manoeuvred, almost gracefully as it goes. And with that same grace, it is swivelled, positioning itself so that the vessel's hatch is perfectly lined with him. Now comes the time to finally catch him, to pluck him out of this peril.
"In position. Uhura..." The helmsman's voice cuts the silence, signalling the Lieutenant of what she needs to do.
With a long drawn breath, her helmet is quickly placed upon her head, and secured with a click. Instantly, and with the appropriate commands entered into the console, the hatch opens, ready to receive its target.
With the tension marking her face, she merely watches as Spock's listless form drifts towards the hatch. She remains still, calm, focussing on her body; yet trying to not think too much on her held breath. This discomfort is well worth the endeavour, and will soon pass.
And, in moments, the drifting figure is grabbed by the hands of the medico and helmsman, who had waited attentively.
Right now, there is little that Uhura can do, with her body straining to hold on, her lungs screaming for oxygen. As the two companions work in synergy to bring the form further inside, carefully lowering him to a space of flooring near her, she awaits the moment that she can finally be free of her airless helmet. A few moments pass, and the hatch is closed and its locking mechanism secured. Immediately, her helmet is unfastened and tossed to the floor. At last, she can breathe again; at last, she can try to help him. His helmet as well is removed, the same moment that her companions remove theirs, and the medico gets to work post-haste. To revive him.