Hero (So High, I Can Hear Heaven)

"Keptin, we're above Allistair. Who will beam down?" Chekov sounded really hopeful to go on this mission. We're trying to get as many Federation planets to join us if we need back up troops. I've only been down once, and the planet people seemed to like me.

"Mr. Chekov, Ms. McCoy, Mr. Spock, and I shall go. Sulu, you've got the con." I smiled. Again, I'm going. This time Chekov is coming. I didn't particularly like when Mr. Spock asked so many "personal queries". He mostly asked about my relationship with Chekov. I never wanted to answer, but with a Vulcan, you cannot lie without them catching you. He noticed I've always been different, but he can't explain it without asking me why my aura is different. When he looks at me, he says, it looks like I have wings. That is a fact, and that's why my mother adopted me. She didn't care that I was different, she cared because they'd throw me on the streets if someone didn't adopt the only sixteen-year-old at the orphanage.

"Gracie, I'm glad you're coming." Chekov wrapped a friendly arm around my waist and pulled me along.

"Thank you, Chekov." I laughed, more like a loud giggle, and walked forward so he didn't have to drag me. Chekov seemed to like my laugh and tried to make me do it again, which resulted in me holding my sides on the Transporter pad. Jim rolled his eyes with a chuckle.

"Scotty, Energize." Jim ordered. A blinding light surrounded me, and we were beamed down onto the planet's surface.

"Eindringlinge!" (German for Intruders) Someone yelled and I gasped. By instinct of fearing for my life, my wings spread from my uniform. Jim and the group gasped and Chekov jumped away from me. A phaser shot off a round, and that round went through my left wing.

"AH! MY WING!" I screamed, falling to the ground and clutching the bleeding, injured body part. "Its broken, Jim." Another shot went through my side, another in my shoulder.

"BEAM US UP, SCOTTY! NOW!" Jim yelled. Chekov ran to my side, shooting the enemy with his own phaser. The light surrounded us again, but I crashed onto the platform this time. "Bones, we have a level seven emergency in the Transporter Room. Get here quickly, it's your daughter. She got shot by the enemy Klingons that have, apparently, inhabited the planet. Sulu, get us into warp six and chart a course for the closest Starfleet base."

"Jim! What happened to my daughter?" Dad barked, scanning me with his medical scanner. "Your wing's broken, three ribs are too, and you're bleeding badly from your right shoulder."

"Dad, I think I know what happened and what's broken!" I snapped. He collected me into his arms, and from there everything was just fast. I found myself in the Sick Bay on a medical bed with an IV in my arm and a breathing mask on my face. Chekov's sad blue eyes looked down at me while he held my hand. My dad wrapped up my shoulder and wing, and surgically taped my ribs back on their usual places. "Chekov, I don't think I'll make it. I'm so high in death, I feel like I can hear Heaven calling me."

"No! You cannot go now! I need you, Gracie. Please, don't leave me! I love you, Gracie. Please." My vision began to fail, so I grasped Chekov's shoulders, despite the pain, and kissed him. He kissed back, holding me gently, but tightly enough to know I'm in his arms.

"Your my Hero, Chekov. I love you, too." And then, my eyes closed for the final time.

.....CLIFFHANGER!!! You seriously think I'd kill off Bones's daughter? The reason no one wanted Grace was because of her wings. She's kind of a mutant, and I thought it up when I was listening to Hero by Nickleback...I know it's strange but I had also been watching X-Men: The Last Stand, and Warren Worthington III alias Angel gave me the idea, too. Everything I have mentioned, including Star Trek characters, belong to their rightful creators...even though I wish I could own Bones, Spock, and Chekov...that'd be awesome!