A/N: So I realized some more backstory might be nice. Possible prequel maybe?

Jim woke with a start. Around him, the Enterprise was silent. Blearily realizing that he was on the floor, he struggled to drag his uncooperative body up to see the damage and the state of his crew. A pair of hands suddenly clamped around his waist and hoisted him onto his captain's chair. He could feel their heat through the material of his uniform and his head cleared for a second.

He swallowed hard. "Hey, Spock," he coughed, and the world spun. When it righted itself again, he found himself looking directly into two eyes like melted pools of chocolate.

"You should be careful Jim," Spock murmured, "You hit your head when the ship rocked." At Jim's questioning glance around his slumped over bridge crew, he said, "Then the...anomoly...emitted a condensed energy wave. It knocked out most of the crew, including myself. I have only just regained consciousness 3.592 minutes before you did."

Jim gingerly touched the bruise on his forehead as he waited for his now-groaning command crew to reorient themselves.

"What happened?" Sulu asked woozily.

Before Jim had a chance to explain, Spock, back at his station, snapped out urgently, "Captain! The anomoly seems to be directing another wave at us. The readings match those prior to the last one. Based upon the last wave, I predict that we have about 15 minutes and 29.428 seconds before it hits us. However, it also seems that this one will be much stronger than before."

Pressing his comm button, Jim yelled, "Scotty! You need to get those engines moving right now!" There was no reply. Controlling his worry and rising fear, he exchanged a look with Spock. "Scotty! Are you al—"

"Yeah Jim, he's fine," Bones's voice crackled through the intercom. "But he'll be unconscious for awhile."

"How long is 'awhile' Bones?" Jim forced himself to stay calm.

"Hard to say for certain, an hour at the least."

"We don't have an hour!" In a quieter tone, he asked, "Is it possible to get him up earlier?"

"I don't know Jim," Bones sounded worried. "Head injuries are tricky. Best thing for him now would be to rest."

In the background, Jim heard someone — Sulu — say, "11 minutes and 42 seconds left," in a strained whisper. He could practically feel the morale on the bridge drop a few feet.

"Mr. Spock!" he called. Spock looked up from where he was hurriedly tweaking his instruments, taking readings, and making frantic calcualations, looking the most unruffled Jim had ever seen him.

"Captain, I am—" but then he stopped at Jim's look and delegated the task to another science officer. "Yes Captain?"

"We're going to the engine room," Jim said, "Sulu you have the comm." The helmsman nodded.

As they headed toward the turbolift, Sulu said, "10 minutes and 58 seconds left!"

Jim saw Chekov smack him and hiss, "Stop saying that! It is not helping and is wery aggrawating!" as the lift doors closed.

"Captain — Jim —" Spock said. "The odds of our survival...are exactly 1:2." The bridge was dead silent. The strange golden glow bathed them in an otherworldly light and suddenly, it seemed as if the universe had shrunk down to just them.

"There's still a chance, Spock. There's always hope," Jim said softly. He laughed softly, "And it's not even as bad as any of the odds we've faced on our more ridiculous missions. I mean, this is the second time we've saved the Federation. In a year. What are the odds of that, anyway? 50% odds are nothing to us."

There was a long silence as nonexistent clocks ticked in the air.

"But just in case," Jim murmured. He pulled Spock's face down toward his and closed his eyes. Only to have the comforting presence pull away right before their lips touched. He opened his eyes in disappointment. To his shock, he could see a small smile on his first officer's face.

Seemingly oblibious to Jim's surprise, he announced, "I have often observed, Jim, that when you put your mind to something, there is very little that can stop you. Despite your unorthodox methods and usages of plans such as 'winging it,' I have calculated your success rate to be about 98.79%." Forestalling his captain's attempts at speaking with a raised hand, Spock continued, "However, at this moment, I sense that you are more willing to place your faith on hope."

For some reason, Jim felt angry. "What else do you want me to place my faith on?" he snapped. "You said it yourself. We have exactly 50/50 odds, and I know how accurate your calculations are. Nothing is going to save us."

Spock stepped closer to him so that their bodies were almost touching. "Place your belief in us, Captain. On the Enterprise. Hope and luck and idle wishes will get us nowhere," he said, almost bitterly, "They are illogical."

He leaned in and kissed him gently. "Place your belief in yourself, Jim."

Before Jim could realize what was happening, he had pulled away again. Spock ignored the stares of the bridge crew — who didn't look all that shocked, in fact, and, straightening his shirt, said in his coolest, most I-am-a-logical-Vulcan tone, "Captain, I expect that we will finish our match tomorrow night?"

Right. Chess.

Jim forced his mind to start up again, and said with a grin, "Correct, . Tomorrow is the day I finally beat you."

With the utmost composure, he walked over to his captain's chair, sat down, and leaned back, crossing his legs. The usually star-studded viewing screen was almost completely golden by now. In front of him, Sulu whispered, "10 seconds."

10, Jim looked around at his beloved Enterprise, wanting to remember her at his moment forever, no matter what happened in the end and knew that Scotty was doing the same down in engineering, and he counted silently in his head.


8, Jim looked at Nyota Uhura, who was sitting at her station almost radiating beauty and tranquility, and she looked at him and smiled.


6, Jim looked at Sulu and Chekov, who were both calm, though he can tell that they were both straining to see one last star in the gold-infused viewing screen, and he watched Sulu put an arm around Chekov's shoulders.


4, Jim looked at Bones, his best friend, the first one in years not to abandon him, and Bones saw his slightly wistful glance and scowled at him and Jim laughed quietly to himself.


2, And finally, almost desperately, Jim looked at Spock, who was acting the perfect science officer and first officer Jim knew he was, but he also knew that he was so much more than that and despite what Spock had said about no wishing, Jim made a wish anyway, because he loved Spock desperately and if the stubborn Vulcan refused to make a wish to save himself, then Jim would have to make one for him.


And the golden light wraps around the U.S.S. Enterprise and her crew, and her captain sitting in his usual "captainly slouch" on the command chair, and the glow becomes brighter and brighter, until all that remains is black space, and the coldly sparkling stars that the Enterprise had so strained to see.