Chapter 3

[Haunted - Admittance]

"Dad, Buttercup's not back. I think she got lost in the nebula or something," Blossom informed as she made her way to one of the consoles. "I'll scan around for her."

Professor paused before asking, "Are you sure everything's all right?"

Blossom shrugged. "She plowed through that ship pretty easily. They were too busy trying to stabilize their trajectory to fire any shots at her, so I'm sure that's all it is."

"Daddy," Bubbles said in a shaky voice. Blossom, back turned to both of them, rolled her eyes. "Something doesn't feel right. It's like my tummy's tight and it won't relax. Every time I think about Buttercup it gets tighter."

At her mention of it, Blossom sympathetically felt the same sensation briefly. As she willed it away, she wondered how Bubbles, even at eleven years of age, could so easily descend to such childish antics.

"Why is that, honey?" Professor asked in his most gentle voice.

"I dunno. It just does." She paused. "How long can she stay out there?"

"We can go without air way longer than this," Blossom reminded her. "I wouldn't--"

"But what if she got the wind knocked out of her?" Bubbles interrupted. "Or the space dust tickled her nose and made her sneeze?"

Blossom was silent. She wanted to reassure them, but her scans still weren't picking up anything yet. Could Buttercup have left the nebula to get a better view of the area? How far could she have gone in the last...how many minutes had it been?

Forcing confidence into her voice, Blossom said, "Let me check something...."

She brought up the visual recordings from their recent battle and quickly found the part with the destructive green streak. At first glance, it did look like the streak truly had continued in a straight line. It didn't shrink or curve. It just...faded away.

She watched it again, strengthening her suspicions.

"Did she stop?" Bubbles asked.

Blossom grimaced momentarily, not thinking that Bubbles and Professor would be standing behind, watching along with her.

"What are those coordinates?" Professor asked, his level tone sounding a bit forced.

Without another word, Blossom started checking the data, thinking to herself that she was just about to do that anyway. Trying to get one step ahead again, she started to pan their viewport to the spot even as she read the numbers.

Professor walked back to navigation and steered them closer. Blossom tried some short range scans again, though she was not surprised to find them coming up empty again. The feeling Bubbles had mentioned was starting to return.

"Can you replay the recording and get a better look at her?" Professor asked when he returned.

Blossom nodded, in a bit of a daze, now. Her brow had again furrowed slightly and seemed content to stay that way. She only half paid attention as she magnified the still frame, trying to imagine what Buttercup would do in various situations. Where would she go? How fast? Would she still be moving now or would she have stopped to wait for them?

Finally honed in on the emerging streak, Blossom absentmindedly stepped forward frame by frame, adjusting along the way to keep the front of the streak in the center of the screen.

"Oh my God," Bubbles whimpered.

Hearing her sister's reaction, Blossom snapped back to attention, watching the screen intently. She tilted her head in curiosity at first, but as she stepped through a few more frames her jaw slowly dropped.

Buttercup seemed to be spinning end over end. Wisps of the green light trail, fragmenting in the turmoil, obscured parts of the image but gently illuminated others. Buttercup's face was darkened by what looked like blood, and a stream of it seemed to be following behind her head.

Blossom tensed as a chill climbed up her spine.

"Move, sweetie," Professor said, pushing Blossom aside with only token gentleness. She watched idly as he seemed to try calculating her trajectory from what little data they had. He plotted a cone-shaped course and aimed their scanners in that direction.

He remained silent throughout, and said nothing even as he walked to the other console to plot their course. Their heading set, he returned to the console between Blossom and Bubbles in equal silence, not even sparing them a glance. Blossom felt compelled to step back a bit and give him space to work in.

As she did so, she turned her attention to Bubbles. Her face was scrunched up in a horrible expression of despair. Tears flowed silently down her cheeks in a steady stream, complemented by a small trickle of snot beginning to meander from her nostrils. She breathed out slowly with an almost inaudible whine, but every inhalation was a sharp, short, hiccup-like intake.

Blossom wanted to do something, but Professor was doing all they could for Buttercup right now and Bubbles seemed beyond consolation. She feared the slightest stimulus would set her sister to out-of-control bawling.

Then Blossom's eyes widened as she settled on something she could do. Departing at a run, she checked the medical bay. Some supplies had toppled onto the floors or spilled onto the counters, and as she took in the scene she saw sparks fly from a seam along one of the walls.

In a flash she put the room back in order, then turned her attention to the sparking wall. A power conduit ran through there, and although damaged, it seemed stable enough to leave alone for a few minutes.

Next she shot back down to the airlock and ran a diagnostic, not wanting to risk that that the last shot they took had damaged anything.

Certain now that everything would operate smoothly once they found Buttercup, she went to scrounge through their supplies so she could start repairing some of the damage to the ship.

Arriving at the store room, she was dismayed to find the door stuck tight. Taking a moment to look through it to the room beyond, she stared in slack-jawed disbelief at the sight. It seemed as though the contents were made of wax and had been left in a car on a hot summer day. One of the volleys fired by the enemy ship must have partially penetrated their shields and created a brief but intense region of heat. They'd probably come just shy of breaching the outer hull. Within reach of total defeat.

Gritting her teeth, she shoved her fingers though the sturdy metal door, pushing and tearing with superhuman strength to force it open. Once inside, she wondered briefly why she had bothered, but pushed those doubts away to thoroughly check the tools and supplies stored within.

Some things she tossed into a corner with various degrees of anger. Others had fused to the shelves or containers where they had been stored. Her frustration grew with every item she checked, as not one thing seemed in usable condition.

She cursed, startling herself as she did so. Disdainful of profanity, she tended to avoid it, but now seemed as appropriate a moment for it as any.

Realizing that she was losing control, she forced herself to settle down and think clearly. The ship was still on emergency power, and the fluctuations and sparks of the power conduit in the medical lounge might put the equipment at risk of failure, or worse.

Before she could begin to consider ways to deal with these problems, she felt and heard the opening of the airlock on the other end of the ship. In a heartbeat she flew off, arriving at the scene. The inner door was safely closed, but the outer door was open. Blossom didn't see anyone in there at first, but Bubbles soon arrived. Blossom immediately pressed the button to close the outer door and fill the room with air.

She watched as Buttercup, now in the artificial gravity of the ship, drooped limply in Bubbles's arms. Her head lolling about drew Blossom's attention, and she noticed several inches of glossy black metal sticking out of her head.

Blossom's eyes widened and she stepped back, unconsciously getting out of the way of her father, who's sprint had only now brought him to the airlock.

As he ushered Bubbles out, Blossom could only stare dumbstruck at Buttercup's limp form passing by. For a moment, she was blind to everything else, and the sound of her father's commands were so much meaningless static in her ears.

Only after they disappeared around a corner did Blossom acquire the presence of mind to follow. Though she could have caught up easily, her approach was slow and shaky. Some strides were eager, others so reluctant she almost stopped. That unpleasant sensation had returned, and she found herself wishing she could tell her daddy her tummy felt funny, too.