Theseus had been staring into space for the past half hour. Literally, he was staring into space. He hadn't noticed it earlier (probably due to the fact that he wanted to get out of that cursed skin tight monstrosity), but there was a window in his cabin that looked out into space.

It was gonna take him a while to fully absorb the information that he'd been sucked into a movie, or tv show, or maybe just alternate reality. Not to mention the fact that he was also hundreds of years in the future, on a spaceship full of aliens.

Part of him, that chunk of his brain that craved constant information, had so many questions. What kind of grammar do different alien cultures use? How many languages does the average planet have? What types of mythologies did other cultures come up with? How has he not killed everyone on board or died due to some disease? How did he even end up here to begin with? But another part of him, the part soaked with fear and insecurity, didn't want to know. Questions mean more questions, which might lead to answers he wouldn't want to know.

Not to mention the fact that everything and everyone he knew is gone, or is so far away is effectively gone. Oh shit, it's all gone. His pet frogs, his wonderful platonic roommate, his kids he taught at school, the bench by that creek in the park near his house, all gone, long gone, so incredibly terrifyingly gone.

He was hyperventilating, rocking back and forth, gripping the arms of the chair he was sitting in, all the while watching the constellations shift in grand and terrifying ways as the ship marched ever-forward.

God, he really was a pessimist sometimes, wasn't he? Shock? More like total and complete meltdown.

The skin-crawling sound of crunching metal broke Theseus out of his spiral. He looked down, and saw that the chair's arms with which he had been gripping onto had crumpled under his hands.

"Holy fuck."

"So... What exactly am I looking at, here?" Scotty asked, face scrunched with confusion.

"Well I don't know, do I? That's why I called you. I'm a doctor, not an engineer, Dammit." Bones crossed his arms, grumping even harder than usual.

"Well, as far as I can tell, this is a biometric scan of a human... female?"

"Male."

"Ah. Honestly, I don't know what I'm here for, doc."

"That." Bones zoomed in on the area around the left clavicle, where some sort of device had been transfused directly onto the bone.

"Oh." Scotty opened and closed his mouth a few times, a little like a fish. "That... that looks like some sorta advanced telepathic circuit. Now, that's not my area of expertise, but those types of devices are usually only used on undeveloped planets where slavery hasn't been outlawed yet. They can gain total control over any sentient creature's mind. Who did you say this was?"

"Oh, y'know, someone." Bones swiftly left the room, distracted by what this meant.

"Thanks, Scotty. You're so smart, scotty. You oughta be given extra pay for all the incredible work you do, scotty." The Scotsman said to the empty room. 

A/N)

Sorry for the shorty, gang. It's just sort've where the chapter organically ended? Idk. If you want a slightly more edited version of this, check my AO3, where I update a week later but it gets marginally more sophisticated! 

As always, critique is encouraged, and I really wanna hear what ships y'all wanna see in this story (besides the enterprise, of course). 

But most importantly... Choose your fighter!

Kirk/Bones

Kirk/Spock

Spock/Bones

Kirk/Spock/Bones