Sitting down... is probably a good move. Jim makes himself do the same, or else he might end up pacing around the kitchen like a caged animal. He interlaces his fingers, the pressure of his own hands on each other helping to keep him grounded, a constant reminder that he has the power here. He can decide whether he wants to answer or not. He can tell as much or as little as he wants. And Starfleet doesn't get to tell him to be silent, to not so much as hint that he wasn't there, to deny everything.

"His name is Thomas Leighton," Jim answers, a little more calmly than he'd thought he would be. Maybe it helps that they're starting with what came after. "He didn't get out in one piece, but he made it. He's a research scientist now."