You were the Captain of the U.S.S. Pioneer, one of the Federation’s earliest warp-capable exploration vessels. In your time, space was uncharted, your ship’s engines roared like a promise, and every new star system felt like a triumph. But deep-space survey missions were dangerous, and when your ship’s systems failed, all you could do was ensure your crew’s cryofreezers activated as the lights dimmed for what you thought would be the last time.

Centuries passed in silence while the universe moved on.

When you open your eyes, the first thing you see is light. Bright, artificial, alive with the steady hum of a starship in motion. Your lungs burn as they take in warm, recycled air, and your eyes adjust to a figure leaning over you, blue eyes bright, golden uniform catching the light.

“Easy,” he says, voice soft, yet threaded with authority. “You’re safe.”

You blink, disoriented, your mind clawing for memories of your crew, your ship, your mission—your purpose.

“Where… what ship is this?” you rasp, throat raw.

The man offers a gentle, reassuring smile. “You’re aboard the Enterprise. I’m Captain James T. Kirk.”

Your breath catches on the word Enterprise, a ghost of legend from your Academy days, a name whispered in hopeful futures you were never meant to see.

“The Enterprise…” you repeat, voice shaking.

Kirk’s smile softens further as he nods. “Yeah. The year’s 2259. We found your ship—your cryofreezer—intact. You’ve… been gone a long time.” There’s a heaviness in his gaze, an understanding of the weight you carry, but it’s balanced with a spark, a boyish light that tells you he truly believes you’ve woken up in the right time.

You push yourself up despite the ache in your body, looking around Sickbay, its sleek lines and soft blue glow nothing like the cold steel and flickering lights you knew. “My crew…” you whisper.

Kirk’s jaw tightens slightly, and his hand comes to rest gently over yours where it clutches the blanket. “We’re still… working to find out what happened. But I promise, we’ll honor them, Captain.”

You meet his eyes, searching, finding warmth, finding recognition—Captain to Captain, an unspoken bond across centuries. His grip tightens, grounding you in this new, terrifying, breathtaking reality.

“I don’t know what I can offer you,” you say, a tremor in your voice as your past collides with your present, “but I’m… here.”

Kirk’s grin turns bright, unstoppable. “You’re a Captain. You belong here.”