Chapter Text
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Captain Christopher Pike took a step back and eyed his resting ratatouille critically. The alternating layers of eggplant, zucchini, and tomatoes were as much a feast for the eyes as the smell was for his nose, and his stomach rumbled appreciatively.
And as if on cue, his door chimed. “Come in, Marie.” Right on time for their dinner date. He smiled to himself as he turned away from the stove and took off his apron.
Marie Batel smiled at Pike as she waggled the bottle of Chateau Picard she’d brought before putting it on the counter. “It smells amazing in here. I had to haggle a few favours, but I think this vintage will complement our meal well. 2245.”
“Ooh, excellent choice.” He leaned over and kissed her for a moment before breaking the kiss to check one last time on the meal. “I think it’s ready to go, if you are?”
“I hope you don’t mean that literally, Captain,” Marie said with a teasing glint in her eye. She took a seat at the small dining table as Pike ladled out two bowlfuls of the steaming dish.
“Oh, I would never ask you to leave,” Pike replied with a grin — his dimple flashed.
Marie laughed as she accepted her bowl from him. “I’m so glad that whole Gorn incident is behind us.”
The mood sobered for a moment. The literal hell of Parnassus Beta and the fallout had left scars – and not all of them were physical.
Pike sat down beside her and squeezed her hand. “Me too.” He picked up his fork. “Bon appetite.”
But before he could take a bite, the ship rocked hard. Pike jumped up from his seat and bee-lined for the comm panel, nearly losing his feet when the ship shuddered again, feeling like they’d hit something and rebounded.
Before he could get to the comm Number One’s voice rang out from it, the tension in her voice apparent. “Captain to the bridge! We’ve got –” the rest of the alert dissolved into static, and Pike could practically feel the adrenaline dumping into his bloodstream.
He knew he needed to get going, but half-turning, he started, “Marie –”
She cut him off, expression tense. “Go. I’ll clean up here.”
Pike spared her a terse nod as he bolted from his quarters, mind already churning through possible scenarios. They had just dealt with the horror show that had been Parnassus Beta, and now this?
G etting back on the horse is all well and good, Robert, but a break now and then would be nice!
Pike hit the bridge in full stride, “Talk to me, people!”
“Systems are crashing all over the ship,” Una told him bluntly, fingers flying over the panel in front of her. “Engines are down, we’ve got no communications, no shields, no weapons, and –”
The view-screen suddenly went blank, and Pike could feel the tension on the bridge ratchet up.
“– no sensors,” she finished dryly.
“Life support?” Pike demanded, fingers flying over the panel on his command chair.
The bridge lights flickered and went out, the darkness lasting barely a moment before the backup system kicked in.
“For now,” was Una’s sardonic answer.
“Were we hit? Is there any physical damage to the ship?”
“Unknown,” Spock replied calmly from his position at Science Ops. “External sensors are not responding, though internal sensors are currently rebooting.”
“External sensors now coming back online,” Una reported, sounding confused, “…I think.”
“Controls still non-responsive. We’re basically dead in the water,” Ortegas was scowling at her panel as if it had personally insulted her. “Captain, we’ve come to a complete stop; we aren’t moving at all.”
Una looked grim, not that Pike could blame her. The earlier weird sensation of rebounding off a trampoline was bad enough, but ships didn’t do complete stops; there was always drift that needed correcting.
“Internal communications are possible, but spotty. External communications are–” Uhura sounded frustrated, wincing and pulling out her earpiece, “– full of some sort of feedback.”
Pike jabbed the comm on his chair. “Bridge to sickbay.”
His stomach curdled when there was no initial response but given Uhura’s assessment of internal communications tried to stay calm.
“Bridge to sickbay.”
“We’re a little busy, Captain.”
Nurse Chapel’s normally friendly disposition had disappeared, replaced by her brisk, no-nonsense work persona, and Pike couldn’t help but smile despite the circumstances.
“Sit-rep, Nurse Chapel?”
“Systems are either down or on backup; fortunately, no fatalities have been reported so far, but lots of bumps, bruises, and breaks.”
“Keep me updated,” Pike ordered.
“Yes sir.”
Leaning back in his chair with a sigh, Pike stared unseeing at the blank view screen, mind churning furiously. Despite Una’s claim that they weren’t moving, with their external sensors down they could be falling into a sun, or the atmospheric well of a planet, or being drawn into a black hole or anything, and they wouldn’t have a clue until it was too late.
“Do we have any idea what just happened?” he said finally, knowing it was likely still too early to tell.
“Scans from just before the impact read clear, Captain,” Spock reported, fingers flying over his console. “There is insufficient data at this time to postulate the cause; however, the pre-impact scans do indicate that there is an asteroid belt about five billion kilometers behind us. Otherwise, we appear to be in a relatively clear region of space.”
A thread of relief wove its way across the bridge. At least that was one issue laid to rest.
Pike rubbed his forehead. “Well then, let’s see if we can get back on our way, shall we?”
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