Chapter One
Homecoming
I'm not the one who's so far away
When I feel the snake bite enter my veins
Never did I wanna be here again
And I don't remember why I came
"Voodoo" Composed by Sully Erna
Performed by Godsmack
In the depths of space there is neither air nor friction. The only source of light, that of the pinpricks of distant stars, more notable for their radiation than their light this far out. This far from a star system or source of gravity there is little to impede the movement of a single tumbling man-made object on a course bringing it toward a small unimpressive star named Sol.
Power had long since been prioritized to the single hyper-sleep pod within the lifeboat from the long disappeared USCSS Nostromo and the three dreamers cocooned inside, the doomed transport ship's only survivors. The Narcissus AI's last act before powering down had been one last full burn to set their course.
Though the small ship had long since ceased level flight and begun to tumble, it was still drawn inexorably along on the course the AI had set. Only recently finding it's way into more occupied space, it's transmitter began broadcasting their distress signal on emergency channels.
"We should reach the outer frontier in another five months or so. Once we're in range, the network should pick up our SOS and put out the word. Castle and I have a statement prepared for the media, which will include a full report to the proper authorities concerning actions taken by officers of the Weyland Yutani Corporation in violation of interstellar law."
"Acting Captain Kate Beckett, ident number 759/L2-01N and Communications Specialist Richard Castle ident number 121/C2/01C, last survivors of the commercial starship USCSS Nostromo, signing off."
Once within range of the primary space-lanes, it did not take long for the broadcast from the Narcissus to reach equipment capable of detecting and interpreting the distress signal for what it was. Another ship in the same region of space, the Bison II class USCSS Serenity altered course from her supply run at her captain's command to investigate.
Captain Malcolm Reynolds was not one to ignore a distress signal. Interstellar law or not, he knew the only help that transport ships out in the black could truly hope for was each other. He'd answered more than one distress signal, only to arrive too late. Finding either dead bodies in the pods, or crews huddled dead in the mess from the suicide pills after their ship's distress signal had either gone unheard or ignored and their air ran out.
He had stood in the witness box to testify against more than one captain who had ignored a distress call, leaving a crew to die out there alone in the black.
Malcolm Reynolds wasn't a man often given to sentiment, but he could no more leave a crew stranded out in the black than he could cut off his own head. He was fully aware that one day it might be his ship and crew in need and he hoped the captain who got his distress signal held to the same ideals he did.
It took three tries to get a magnetic grapple latched on in the right place on the tumbling shuttle to pull it level and winch it close enough to lock on. Once the shuttle pod was close enough, two more sets of mooring cables were latched on, the sounds of the locking procedure echoed through both vessels.
"Hard seal established," Serenity's pilot and warrant officer Hoban "Wash" Washburne stated, "our little leaf on the wind is secured. All indicators show green."
Captain Reynolds selected three of his crew to board the derelict shuttle.
Wearing full pressure suits, First Officer Zoe Washbourne, Science Officer Simon Tam and Engineering Technician Jayne Cobb entered the airlock, bearing a cutting torch, portable lights and other equipment. They waited patiently while the airlock cycled. When the outer-lock door slid aside, their first sight of the lifeboat was disappointing: no internal lights visible through the port in the door, no sign of life within.
The door refused to respond when the external controls were pressed.
"Shuttle's exterior door is jammed shut, Captain," Zoe reported into her helmet pickup, "structural damage, perhaps a pressure leak. The sealant bottles seem to have fired."
After making certain there was no air in the lifeboat's cabin, Jayne went to work on the door with his welding torch, slicing into the door first on one side, then the other until his cuts met at the bottom of the barrier. After shutting down his torch, Jayne kicked the metal aside.
The lifeboat's interior was as dark and still as a tomb. Clothes were strewn across the floor of the cabin, below where they must have been floating before Serenity's artificial gravity asserted itself. The only interior light visible not produced by their suits was a dim indicator up near the front of the cabin. Fanning out behind Zoe, hands drifting to the pistols at their sides for no reason other than the dim, suddenly claustrophobic confines of the shuttle creeped them out.
As they approached the front of the shuttle, the familiar dome of a hyper-sleep capsule glowed from within. The boarding party exchanged a glance before approaching. Zoe and Jayne leaned over the thick glass cover of the transparent sarcophagus. Behind them, Jayne studied his instrumentation and muttered aloud.
"Internal pressure positive, hull and systems integrity looks nominal. Nothing appears damaged; just shut down to conserve energy."
"Haven't seen a hyper-sleep capsule like this one since flight school," Simon reported. "Capsule pressure reads steady and still receiving power, though the batteries have just about had it. Look how dim the internal readouts are."
"Good-lookin' couple in there." Zoe commented
"Good-lookin', my eye." Jayne spat, sounding disappointed. "Life function diodes are all green. That means she's alive. There goes our salvage profit, guys."
Both Zoe and Simon leveled disgusted looks at Jayne.
"Stow that shit, Jayne," Zoe snapped at the man for his lack of humanity, "someday that could be us."
Jayne didn't even look up from his inspection of the inside of the pod. After running an appraising eye at the woman inside, something else caught his eye and he gestured in surprise.
"Hey!" He exclaimed, "there's something in there with her. Nonhuman. Looks alive too. Can't see too clearly. Part of it's trapped between them. It's orange-ish."
"Orange?" Zoe pushed past both Simon and Jayne to press the face-plate of her helmet against the transparent barrier. "Got claws, whatever it is."
"Maybe it's an alien life-form, huh?" Jayne offered, "That'd be worth some bucks."
The woman inside, whom Jayne thought he wouldn't mind getting to know better under different circumstances, shifted ever so slightly in the pod, sending a few strands of hair on the ergonomic cushion under her head to one side, more fully revealing the creature that slept tight against her.
When Jayne got a closer look, he snorted disgustedly, "No such luck. It's just a cat."
One Week Later
Sol System Gateway Station
Kate Beckett slowly emerged from the fog of sleep. She felt like crap, more so than she ever had recalled coming out of hyper-sleep. Listening was a struggle, opening her eyes seemed out of the question. Her throat felt dry, and parched with a faintly resinous flavor she didn't recognize.
Her lips parted on a groan as her body slowly checked in. Air came rushing up from her lungs, which ached with the exertion. It took her a few tries, but she finally got her vocal chords to successfully form words.
"Thirsty," She husked out so quietly she feared nobody would hear her.
Almost immediately, something smooth and cool slid between her lips. The shock of dampness almost overwhelmed her. Memory nearly caused her to reject the water tube. In another time and place that kind of insertion was a prelude to a particularly unique and loathsome demise. Only water flowed from this tube, however. It was accompanied by a calm voice intoning advice.
'Don't swallow. Sip slowly.'
She obeyed, though a part of her mind screamed at her to suck the restoring liquid as fast as possible. Oddly enough, she did not feel dehydrated, only terribly thirsty.
'Good,' she whispered huskily.
'Got anything more substantial?'
'It's too soon,' said the voice.
'The heck it is. How about some fruit juice?'
'Citric acid will tear you up.' The voice hesitated, considering, then said, 'Try this.'
Once again the gleaming metal tube slipped smoothly into her mouth. She sucked at it pleasurably. Sugared iced tea cascaded down her throat, soothing both thirst and her first cravings for food.
When she'd had enough, she said so, and the tube was withdrawn.
A woman stepped inside and the door swished closed behind her, Kate could see the complex medical equipment to her immediate left including the automated medical unit - a much smaller unit than the auto-doc on the Nostromo - which had responded so swiftly to not only her rise to consciousness, but also her plea for first water and then sweetened iced tea.
The machine hung motionless and ready from its track on the ceiling, sensors within it's streamlined frame quietly monitoring everything happening inside her body, ready to adjust medication, provide food and drink, or summon human help should the need arise. Which it obviously had once she was fully awake and apparently lucid.
The newcomer smiled at the patient and used a remote retrieved from her breast pocket to gently raise the backrest of Kate's bed. The patch on her shirt, which identified her as a senior RN, was bright with color against the background of her crisp white uniform. Kate eyed her warily, unable to get a read on the woman, the first human she had seen since slipping into hyper-sleep. Her voice was pleasant, however, maternal without being cloying.
"Sedation's wearing off. I don't think you need any more." The charge nurse stated, "Can you understand me?"
Kate nodded slowly. The nurse considered her patient's appearance and seemed to reach a decision.
"Let's try something new, shall we?" She said, "Why don't I open the window?"
Kate's heartbeat ticked up a fraction, then returned to normal when logic reminded her that there were no openable windows on a space station. The Nurse's smile weakened just a fraction and promptly returned when the monitors noted Kate's vitals returned to normal. That single lapse told Kate's detective instincts all she needed to know about the woman. Her demeanor was professional and practiced, not heartfelt.
The woman pointed her remote towards the wall across from the foot of the bed.
"Shield your eyes for a moment," she warned.
Kate squinted as requested as a motor hummed softly, and the wall plate outside slid into the ceiling. Harsh light filled the room for the half second it took for the outside light to be filtered and softened, thought it was still a shock to Kate's system.
Outside lay a vast sweeping vista, framed by Gateway Station's modular habitats, the plastic cells strung together like children's blocks, but dominating the scene was the bright blue brown and green curve of the Earth. Before her, Africa swam in an ocean of dark blue, the Mediterranean a sapphire separating the Sahara from the European continent. It was nothing that Kate had never seen before, first in school then in primary flight training, but after years in deep space, it still felt like home and she was glad to see the planet of her birth still spinning.
It was comforting, familiar, reassuring, like a worn-down teddy bear. The only thing missing was the man whom she most wanted to share it with. But bereft of his presence, she could not seem to get the question she most wanted answered past her lips. Where's Castle? Where's my husband?
"How are we today, Ms Beckett?" The nurse asked, but it took a moment for Kate to register that the woman was speaking to her.
"Terrible," Kate replied sullenly, her mind tilting with scenarios she did not wish to contemplate.
"Just terrible?" The nurse asked. Kate suddenly wondered why she didn't have a name badge.
"That's better than yesterday, at least," the nurse continued, "I'd call "terrible" a major improvement from atrocious."
Kate squeezed her eyelids shut and opened them slowly. The Earth was still there and so was the nurse and her most important - heretofore unasked - questions mocking her as they echoed inside her head.
"How long have I been on Gateway Station?" she asked by rote.
"A couple of days." the nurse replied, the smile plastered to her face suddenly not so comforting.
"Feels longer." Kate stated by way of reply
"Do you feel up to a visitor?" the nurse asked and Kate's heart leaped in her chest.
'There are two of them, actually." The nurse replied, at the swish of the door.
A man entered, one most notable by the fact that she did not recognize him, but she knew his fat, orange, bored-looking burden
"Charlie!" Kate exclaimed, sitting up straight, the first genuine smile since she woke springing to her lips. The man gratefully relinquished possession of the big tomcat, which Kate drew to her chest and cuddled to her like he was her firstborn
"Charlie-boy, oh my God look at you, you sweet ball of fluff, you!" Kate whispered to the cat in her arms as if he was the only thing keeping her afloat in a sea of uncertainty.
Charlie patiently endured what was for him certainly, an embarrassing display, so typical of humans, with all the dignity his kind was heir to, displaying the usual tolerance felines have for human beings.
The still unknown man pulled a chair close to the bed and patiently waited for Ripley to take notice of him. He was in his thirties, good-looking without being flashy, and dressed in a nondescript business suit.
Kate acknowledged his presence with a nod but continued to reserve her full attention to the cat. Eventually however it became clear that he was not going to settle for being ignored.
"Nice room," he said, though it was clear he didn't mean a word of it.
He looked like a country boy, but didn't talk like one, Kate thought as he edged the chair a little closer to her. Which she found more than a little invasive.
"My name's Vaughn, Eric Vaughn," He said, "I work for the Company, but other than that, I think I'm an okay guy. Glad to see you're feeling better."
Though Kate was wary of this stranger, he at least sounded to her as though he meant it.
"I'm told the weakness and disorientation should pass soon, though you don't look particularly disoriented to me. Side effects of such a long period in hyper-sleep, they told me. Biology wasn't my favorite subject. I was better at figures. For example, yours seems to have come through in pretty good shape."
Kate glared at him, and not just because of the obvious come-on. She was not impressed with that at all, but the words unusually long hyper-sleep sang out to her interrogator's mind and all of her cop instincts kicked in.
"What do you mean by "unusually long hyper-sleep". How long was it?" She gestured towards the watching nurse. "They certainly aren't offering me anything."
Vaughn's lack of response did not fill Kate with confidence.
"Where's Castle?" she finally asked, "Where's my husband?"
"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, Ms. Beckett, but your husband didn't make it. His life signs flat-lined seven days before you were picked up."
Kate paled, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe, a lump in her chest right below her heart became a palpable thing.
"You drifted right through the core systems," Vaughn told her. "your emergency beacon failed. It was blind luck that that a transport en-route out of the system was able to triangulate your position from your recorded message when they…"
He hesitated when Kate suddenly turned pale, her eyes widening.
"Are you all right?" He muttered
Kate coughed again and again, as if choking on something, feeling pressure where there shouldn't be, her expression one of dawning horror.
Vaughn tried to hand her a glass of water from the nightstand, only to have her slap it away. It struck the floor and shattered.
Charlie leaped from the bed to the furthest point in the room he could get from her, his fur standing on end, yowling and spitting. His claws made rapid scratching sounds on the smooth plastic as he scrambled away from the bed.
Kate grabbed at her chest, her back arching as the convulsions began. She looked as if she were strangling, or struggling to give birth.
"Code Blue to Four Fifteen!" The Nurse shouted, springing into action "Code Blue, Four One Five!"
She and Vaughn clutched Kate's shoulders on both sides as she began convulsing on the mattress as a doctor and two more techs came pounding into the room.
It couldn't be happening. Kate's mind flashed in panic It couldn't!
"No—noooooo!" She screamed aloud.
Covers went flying as the orderlies attempted to restrain her. One foot sent a man sprawling while the other kicked over the crash cart they brought with them From beneath a cabinet Charlie glared out at his mistress and hissed, claws out and fur standing on end as he prepared to flee at the first opportunity
"Hold her!" the doctor shouted. "Get me an airway, stat! Nurse Adelaide, Fifteen cc's of—!"
An explosion of blood stained Kate's hospital gown crimson, which began to pyramid as something unseen rose beneath it. Stunned, the medical personnel backed off.
Kate looked on helplessly in absolute panic as the garment tore away.
The nurse collapsed. The doctor made gagging sounds as the eyeless, toothed worm emerged from Kate's shattered rib cage and turned slowly until its fanged mouth was only a foot from her face, and screeched, drowning out everything else, echoing, reverberating through her entire being as she…
… sat up screaming, her body snapping into an upright position in the bed. She was alone in the darkened hospital room. Clutching pathetically at her chest Kate fought to regain the breath the nightmare had stolen. Her body was intact and for the most part functional. It was only a dream... a really bad one at that. Only a dream she thought to herself over and over again. Only a dream
Her eyes moved jerkily as she scanned the room, her mind still working through the last dregs of her terror. To her relief, she found nothing lying in ambush on the floor, or behind the cabinets waiting for her to let down her guard. Only silent machines quietly doing their work and the comfortable bed under her. She held one fist protectively against her sternum, as if to reassure herself constantly of its continued inviolability. The long healed bullet wound a reminder that eventually all nightmares end, but now she wasn't so sure.
As her eyes became more attuned to the dim light of the hospital room, her eyes finally focused on the one thing that had been missing in her room from the dream. The large, solid presence of her husband, lying in the bed immediately next to hers, his eyes closed in a sedative induced sleep, his very presence in the room made her feel more secure. To her nightmare fueled mind, Richard Castle was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
Kate jumped slightly, shaken from her contemplation of her sleeping husband as the video monitor suspended over her bed hummed to life. An older woman, obviously the night charge nurse gazed anxiously down at her. Her face was full of genuine and not simply professional concern.
"Bad dreams again, Ms Beckett?" The nurse asked, "Do you want something to help you sleep?"
A light switched on at the panel next to her bed, offering the appropriate dose of sedative.
"No, thank you," Kate replied, "I think I've slept enough."
"If you change your mind," The nurse on the screen reminded her before logging off, "just use your bed buzzer."
With that, the screen darkened.
Kate slowly leaned back against the raised mattress and touched one of the numerous buttons set in the side of her nightstand. The window screen that covered the far wall slid into the ceiling, bathing her husband's sleeping form in soft light, the window filters keeping the room dim in favor of the patient sleeping in the next bed. Castle was here, safely beside her, the portion of Gateway brilliantly lit by nighttime lights and, beyond that, the night-shrouded globe of the Earth. Neither of which capturing her attention quite like her husband did though. That last dream had been bad.
Something landed on the bed next to her, but she didn't jump. It was a familiar, welcome shape and she hugged his long-legged body tightly to her, ignoring Charlie's casual meow of protest.
"It's okay, Charlie," she soothed as she petted the cat and stared at her sleeping husband in a way she might have called creepy once upon a time. "We made it, Charlie-boy, we're all home safe. I'm sorry I scared you. It'll be all right. It's going to be all right."
She wished she could convince herself of that. Perhaps she could eventually believe it, if only she could get the dreams to stop.
**Author's Note** When I was beginning to write this, adding the crew of the Serenity to this universe just kind flowed naturally from me. The guy complaining that, with the crew's survival, their salvage money went out the window sounded so much like Jayne, I simply could not help myself.
No, there will me no rehash of "The Squab and the Quail" in this story. Nope, absofuckinglutely not. As it turns out, the company suit in the original Aliens universe (played marvelously by Paul Reiser in the movie) is named Carter Burke and I didn't want there to be confusion with Dr. Worf. So I gave him the familiar name of another conniving suit from the Castle-verse.
Enjoy.
