Author's Note
I am an evil, evil person who is going to hell for the cliff-hanger at the end of the last chapter. The muse would like to apologise by proffering this quick (albeit short) update.
Huge thanks to Cyclon One for performing unofficial Beta duty. I don't give him enough credit.
Anyway, enough from me. On with... The Uncharted Adventures of Willow Rosenburg!
Chapter 10
Barely able to breathe, Willow clung on to the small outcropping of metal for grim life. The rushing wind was starting to die down, which probably wasn't a good sign. Although it still tore at her body, making her arms feel as though they were being ripped out of their sockets, she felt lighter and more buoyant as she rode its current. The metal she held onto groaned and bent further back. Desperately, she reached for her magic as the pouch of powdered zirconium she had tried to use to teleport Glory was tugged from her pocket.
Instead of being sucked out of the ship, the glittery dust defied the laws of physics and hung in midair for a moment before reversing against the tumultuous force of the wind and surrounding Willow. Swirling in abstract patterns around her the dust grew brighter and brighter until with one final burst of brilliant light it, and the red-haired witch it enveloped, disappeared from sight.
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A very confused rat was sniffing disconsolately at the fibrous flooring of his prison when the human female, designate: Willow Rosenberg, suddenly appeared in a flash of bright light. Her eyes crossed, and then rolled backwards in her head as she toppled forward, falling onto the table that held the tank.
As the table fell, the rat leapt; landing a safe distance away as the transparent tank it had been imprisoned in bounced off the floor; uncontrollably skidding further away as the tank bounced again; finally sliding to a halt as the tank landed on the floor with a clatter.
Freedom!
The rat dashed towards the door, passing the motionless human female, designate: Willow Rosenberg. Slowly, it halted before it had reached its target destination. Twisting around, the rat squeaked once, its pointed nose twitching rapidly as it stared at the human female, designate: Willow Rosenberg, lying sprawled on the floor. Her eyes were closed. Scampering up to her, the rat planted its two front paws on her face and squeaked shrilly. She didn't respond.
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"What the hell?" Crichton said, shaking ila strands out of his hair as he reached for his comm badge.
"Pilot, what happened?" Aeryn was quicker and he shot her a rueful glance as he picked himself up off the floor, dusting the seat of his pants off and offering her a hand up.
"Pilot!" Chiana's panicked scream echoed around the galley as Aeryn accepted his hand and he pulled her up quickly as they exchanged significant looks.
"An explosion!" Pilot's image appeared in the clamshell. He looked extremely agitated as he elaborated, "Moya's venting atmosphere! I've isolated the affected area."
"Evasive manoeuvres," Aeryn told him, pulling her pulse pistol free of its holster.
"We weren't hit, Officer Sun," said Pilot.
"Pilot!" Chiana yelled again.
"The explosion was internal," Pilot explained urgently.
"Pip! You okay?" asked Crichton.
"What?" Zhaan joined the conversation. "Where?"
"Yeah," Chiana told Crichton, sounding more breathless than usual.
"Tier eight, treblin side," Pilot told Zhaan. "I'm sending DRD's to investigate."
"I'm fine," Chiana continued breathily. "But Willow's not."
"What?" demanded John, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach.
"Chiana!" D'Argo's panicked voice was distant and faint.
"I just sent her that way," Chiana said to Crichton. "Hey, D'Argo. I'm fine. See!"
Catching sight of Crichton's face, Aeryn hit her comms again, "Willow, respond. Willow!"
"She doesn't have any comms," John said faintly. He felt sick.
"Zhaan, I'm bringing Chiana to your lab," said D'Argo.
"Very well," Zhaan agreed as Chiana protested that she was fine. "What caused the explosion, Pilot?"
"I'm not sure," Pilot told them. "But..."
"What?" Aeryn asked as he hesitated.
"The DRD's are picking up traces of chakan oil inside the airlock," Pilot informed them.
"Chakan oil?" said Aeryn, looking at Crichton with a frown.
"Someone did this deliberately?" Zhaan asked.
"Rygel!" John yelled.
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"Zhaan!"
Turning around at the sound of D'Argo's voice, Zhaan stifled a smile at the sight of the large Luxan carrying an indignant Chiana in his arms as he rushed into the room. Moving calmly forward, Zhaan met them halfway at the bed as D'Argo gently lowered Chiana onto it.
"I feel fine," Chiana told her stubbornly. "Will you tell him?"
"I'm sure you do," Zhaan said soothingly.
"See!" Chiana said to D'Argo. "Can I go now?"
"Sniff this," Zhaan told her, holding a small vial beneath her nose. "It will restore your respiratory system."
Chiana quickly sniffed, "Now can I go?"
"Lie back for a moment," said Zhaan, gently pushing her back into a more relaxed position. "You may feel a bit light-headed and dizzy."
"I feel f... oh!" Chiana's eyes widened and she grinned.
"Will she be alright?" D'Argo asked anxiously.
Zhaan smiled warmly at him, "Oh yes," she reassured him, replacing the cap on the vial. "She'll be fine."
Moving away to put the vial away in its correct place, Zhaan was surprised when, rather than stay by Chiana's side, D'Argo followed her across the room. Placing the vial on a shelf, she turned to him with an enquiring look and waited.
"Chiana," he said quietly. "She, uh, she says that the lights went out after Pilot shut the access points."
"You did not experience this?" Zhaan enquired, frowning.
"No. Uh..." D'Argo glanced over his shoulder at the Nebari girl as she lay giggling on the bed. "She thinks that Willow might still be alive."
"It is possible," Zhaan told him. "I know next to nothing of how she does her... magic. But it would probably require a great deal of power. More than a localised power cut."
"But there is a chance that she is alive?" asked D'Argo.
Zhaan nodded, looking concerned, "Perhaps someone should tell Crichton before he finds Rygel."
D'Argo snorted derisively, "Personally I'm more inclined to help him tear the little frellnik limb from limb when he does find him," he growled, moving away from her, back towards Chiana. Taking her small grey hand in his own large one, he smiled down at her, "Hey," he said gently.
Chiana giggled.
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Ducking under the nose of her prowler, Aeryn touched her comm button, "Crichton?"
"You found him?" Crichton's reply was almost instantaneous.
"No," Aeryn told him, climbing up into the cockpit of her prowler, "Pilot's asked me to survey the damage to Moya from the outside. I'm prepping my prowler now."
"Okay," said Crichton, sounding disappointed and distracted.
"I did stop by my quarters," Aeryn said to him, easing herself into the pilot's chair and strapping herself in. "Four cartridges of chakan oil are missing."
"Four?" John asked incredulously. Just one would have been enough to destroy the airlock. If Rygel had used all four, he would have crippled Moya.
"Yep," Aeryn sounded pissed off and he could hear the roar of the prowler's engine starting over his comms. "I suggest you find the little dren as quickly as possible. I'll be back to help you look as soon as I can."
"Hopefully I'll have found the toad by then," Crichton told her, turning around for a three-sixty look at the passageway he was in.
Aeryn didn't reply. Easing the 'hockey' stick he had found and kept in his quarters across his shoulders, Crichton picked a direction.
"Oh, Rygel!" he called. "Come out, come out, wherever you are...! I'm not gonna hurt you," he promised. "I'm gonna kill you," he added in a vicious undertone, swinging his stick. "Sparky! Sparky! Sp...
"Huh?" John stared at the large red rat sitting on its hind legs in the middle of the hallway. "Marvin?" What was the rat doing out of its tank?
Marvin squeaked rapidly.
"What's that, Lassie?" John asked.
Marvin ran a short way down the passageway. Stopping to look back over his shoulder, he squeaked again.
"Timmy's stuck down the well?" said John, the stick hanging loose and forgotten by his side as he followed the rat.
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Marvin led him to the main quarters. Most of them lived on this side of tier eight and he'd given Willow an empty room a couple of doors down from him. Jogging behind the scurrying rat, John found his heart racing at a speed that couldn't entirely be accounted for by his rapid pace. Was Willow alive? Marvin dodged into her room.
Following the rat into the room, John's heart seemed to stop entirely for a second when he saw Willow lying next to the overturned table. Kneeling beside her, he felt her throat for a pulse. Sighing in relief as he found one, he peeled back one of her eyelids.
"Willow?" she stirred slightly and he let her eyelid go. "Willow?"
"Xander?" she mumbled.
John chuckled slightly in relief, grinning at her even though she hadn't opened her eyes, "No."
"John," Willow pouted as he scooped her into his arms, her eyes opening a tiny crack. "I wanna go home."
"Me too," said John, carrying her out of her room.
"My head hurts."
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'Scape-ism's
Frellnik: Expletive, roughly equivalent to 'fucker'.