I'm pretty sure I know how season 3 is going to start.
At the last second, Michael frantically programs the red suit's time circuits to Vulcan November 5, 2505. It's 150 years into the future - far enough that she should be safe from Control, but not so far that there's a strong chance Spock will still be alive. However, a last-second volley from one of the control ships knocks her trajectory and she slams hard into the ground. She does recognize the planet as Vulcan, but it's not a region or continent she's ever been before. The wind is heavy and sand is blowing everywhere. Her leg is broken and she can feel herself falling in and out of consciousness. She probably has a concussion. She's near a home. It reminds her of Sarek's - it probably belongs to a dignitary. A figure emerges and runs to her. His face is covered save for his eyes and brow. She senses he's not Vulcan, even though she can't see his ears. Probably human. He's old but not frail. With a slight groan, he picks her up and starts off towards the house, taking great mind of her leg. Inside, he lays her down on a bed and pulls off his cowl, and she can now see his whole face. Definitely human.
Things start to go dark, her eyelids are heavy. He gives her a gentle tap on her cheek and says, "Now, now, you need to stay awake." His voice was kind and soft but very assured.
He walks to the other side of the room and pulls down what is obviously a medkit. He removes three items: one she immediately recognizes as a tricorder, but it's much more advanced than anything she'd ever seen before. The second item was definitely a hypo of some sort, probably a stimulant. She didn't recognize the other item, but it looks similar to the regeneration laser she'd seen Hugh use many times. He walks to her and injects the hypo into her arm and the brain fog immediately starts to clear. As he starts waving the regenerator over her leg, she tries to speak, but the words still don't come. "Shh," he says. "Give yourself a minute for the stims to work. That little bump you had definitely gave you a concussion, but I'm not reading any serious neural damage. You should be right as rain in a few hours. Then you can explain why a young Starfleet officer would fling herself to the mercy of my doorstep. It's certainly not the sort of thing I was prone to do in my youth." He smiles slyly.
She was able to breathe a thank you, but it was very welcome. "Well, of course,' he replies, "Seems you've found your sea legs. But you'll need something to fight off the last few cobwebs and perhaps clear the sand from your throat. I know just the thing. " He walks to the nearby wall to what she assumes is some kind of food dispenser. Tits his head and firmly says, "Computer, tea: Earl Grey. Hot."
