My Star Trek One-Shots

Commander Rayner - Other Side of the Stars PT 2

The Discovery's team had barely touched down on the decaying space station when the entire structure shuddered—decades of corrosion and gravity distortion finally giving way.

Rayner and Nera had split off to check a collapsing lower deck. The data core needed manual extraction, and no one else could handle the unstable controls like Rayner. But the second he touched the terminal, the floor gave out beneath him.

Nera screamed his name as he fell through the collapsing grate into the dark.

He landed hard. Pain exploded through his leg—he was pinned under a metal beam. Cracked ribs again, probably. Maybe worse.

"Nera—!" he rasped, coughing through dust and smoke.

Moments later, her boots hit the floor nearby. She was already moving toward him, brushing sparks and debris out of her way, eyes blazing with determination and fear she didn't bother to hide.

"I told you not to go alone," she snapped, kneeling beside him. "You never listen."

"You were five feet away," he grunted. "That's not alone."

"You know what I meant."

She wedged her shoulder under the beam and strained, face twisted in effort.

"Nera—stop—if it shifts—"

"Shut up, Rayner!"

With a final, guttural shout, she lifted just enough for him to drag himself free with a cry of pain. The moment he was clear, she dropped the beam and caught him before he fell again.

Blood on his temple. Breathing labored. She cradled his face with both hands. "You with me?"

He blinked up at her. "Always."

They found temporary shelter in a small engineering alcove while the ship's rescue team cleared a path to extract them. Nera wrapped Rayner's ribs, using the medkit she always carried now—ever worried one of them would get hurt after their last mission.

"You're lucky I came after you," she muttered, trying to stay focused. Her hands trembled slightly.

He caught one of them mid-motion, his fingers wrapping around hers. "Nera."

She stopped.

Rayner's eyes locked on hers—serious, unguarded. "You didn't just save my life. You could have hurt yourself doing it."

"I didn't—" she started, but he cut her off.

"I've spent years closing doors in myself. Locking things down. Being what everyone needs me to be. But you . . ." His voice dropped, low and raw. "You tear right through it. And I don't even know how."

She stared at him. "Because I see you," she said quietly. "Even when you're trying not to be seen."

He exhaled shakily. "And that terrifies me."

Her hand was still in his. Their faces were close—too close. For once, Nera didn't crack a joke.

"You don't have to be anyone else with me."

There was a beat. A heartbeat. Then Rayner leaned forward and kissed her—soft at first, hesitant, as if still unsure he was allowed. But Nera kissed him back like she'd been waiting forever. Fierce. Certain. Real.

When they pulled back, she rested her forehead to his.

"About damn time," she whispered.

When the rescue team finally found them, Rayner and Nera were seated against the bulkhead, his head on her shoulder, her hand in his hair. No one asked questions. No one needed to.