The odd ache from his body has just enough time to remind Jim of the radiation's effect on his muscles before he's suddenly plunged into the nightmare of the warp core.

The crackling blue energy flares bright white as the housings align, the shockwave sending Jim flying back and off the structure of the core. He slams into the curved bottom of the warp core chamber, a sickening crack in his back as he hits the metal, and all the breath whooshes out of his lungs, a massive weight seeming to sink onto his chest.

His head throbs, his thoughts reeling sickeningly from one extreme to the next, and his skin itches and burns like a thousand bees are crawling all over him. The metallic taste of blood coats his tongue, and he coughs weakly, a single driving thought settling into his mind: I have to make sure the ship is okay.

He knows it'll be the last thing he ever does. But it's all he can do.

With great effort, he rolls onto his belly, ignoring the searing pain in his back, the way his legs don't quite seem to want to work right, and claws his way towards the access hatch. He has to make it before his arms won't work anymore either.