The Hopper
The following story line is mine. Don't try to copy it cause I'll get mad
In a like vain, Star Trek and all characters are the sole property of someone other than me.
AN: This story takes place immediately after season three. Think of it this way, if there'd been ONE more episode, this would've been it. (Remembering that the Enterprise's mission was a five year mission)
My name is Deneb. I was named after a star. I always wanted to visit that star. I've never had the chance. I've never been to Deneb, no, but I've been to plenty of other stars.
It started when I was sixteen. Actually, the day I turned sixteen. I had been dreaming of adventuring as a traveling writer. If I had only known that when I awoke I would be launched on an adventure through time and outer space, I may have stayed asleep.
Deneb took a deep breath, as if she'd been under water nearly too long and had finally broken the surface. She gulped the oxygen in and felt it pushed through her blood stream, carried to the cells that were so desperately craving it. She was panting slightly now and shivering. It was always cold. Her vision started to clear but she barely needed it anymore. She used her senses to feel what was around her. She'd trained herself to. It was a dangerous universe. The floor was hard, not stone, not plascrete, but not as cold as metal.
/A building or a ship then/ she thought to herself. Her vision cleared a little more with the helpful doses of oxygen. She was still lying on the floor, her muscles still frozen. She wouldn't be able to move for another few seconds, seconds she was going to make use of. There were walls and she didn't "feel" an opening, which meant she was probably in a room with the door closed. There were things in the room, but no people, always a boon in Deneb's case. Her vision cleared up with the last gulp of oxygen and she could see properly now. She quickly scanned all of the knowledge she had, trying to figure out where she might be. She tasted the air. It wasn't pure, but it wasn't quite the metallic, stale taste of ship air either. Still, she didn't feel she was in a building on a planet somewhere. The room was simple. There was a platform behind her with glowing circles on it. There was some sort of work station facing it. Deneb went around to the other side and scanned the control panel.
"A transporter, I'd bet" she said aloud to herself. She shook her head to herself. She wondered how far she'd gone this time, how long she'd be there. She felt her throat tightening up with the need for water. The dehydration was setting in then. She wouldn't have long before her legs would start to wobble, before her arms would go limp, before she lost the ability to control the movements of her head and finally would faint dead away, where ever she was.
This had many times landed her in trouble, until she'd finally trained her body to rush adrenaline through itself for just a few seconds after it'd happened so she could find somewhere to hide until she'd regained strength.
"Damn it!" she whispered under her breath as her mouth went entirely dry. She didn't have long. There was only one door out of the room. Deneb took a deep breath and walked up to it, not surprised when it opened for her. She took a hesitant step out. There was no one in the long hallway that led both ways and curved so that she couldn't see if there was anyone coming. The hallway was a nice comforting nothing color. Deneb rolled her eyes. After a certain point they had reverted to the "comforting" tones.
The girl took another deep breath and went to her left. There were doors on both sides of the corridor and they were all marked. They were an orangey color. She read the tags quickly. It was almost all crew quarters apparently. Deneb moved along more and more quickly, trying to get out of the residential area that would do her no good. She could feel her legs giving out on her and knew she'd really have to push it before her body collapsed beneath her.
She picked up the pace, regretting the headache she'd have and the gallon of water she'd need when she did regain consciousness. Still, she couldn't be caught out in the open, vulnerable to whoever, whatever was on this ship. (For she was now aware that it was definitely a ship)
"Storeroom" she stopped and reread the plate. What kind of storeroom would be on a residential block? Well, not the kind that would house anything hazardous. Probably the kind that not many people visited, unneeded furniture or extra blankets perhaps. Superfluous things. Perfect for her to hide among. She approached the door quickly and hurried through it when it opened obediently for her. Her legs were going numb and she didn't want to try to move her arms. She still had control of her neck muscles, a good sign. The room was full of barrels of who knew what type and some spacey boxes. She glanced around for somewhere to effectively hide herself. Well, at least almost effectively. The ship sensors shouldn't pick up her presence for a while, long enough to let her heal herself. She hoped anyway. Humans had a way of improving their technology.
There were some boxes, behind some barrels, that were fairly close to a bulkhead. They were stacked high enough to hide her sleeping form, and her feet wouldn't stick out if she made herself curl. It would be difficult, in the two seconds it had taken her to decide on the hiding spot, her legs had seized up. She would have to use her arms to move them mechanically, and she wasn't sure how she was going to get her arms to move, but she would do it. She took a breath, desperately wishing for some water, and used her brain to tell the nerves in her legs to tell the muscles in her legs to move. It took a second, an amazingly long amount of time for the human body to react to a mental message. But she got one foot in front of the other, and then the second foot in front of that one and she moved herself that way until she was squeezed between the boxes and bulkhead. It had taken a tremendous effort. She now laboriously controlled her collapse to the floor. When she was done she moved one arm at a time to pull her knees in toward her chest. By that time she'd lost neck control.
She passed out with her hands still about her knees.
In a like vain, Star Trek and all characters are the sole property of someone other than me.
AN: This story takes place immediately after season three. Think of it this way, if there'd been ONE more episode, this would've been it. (Remembering that the Enterprise's mission was a five year mission)
My name is Deneb. I was named after a star. I always wanted to visit that star. I've never had the chance. I've never been to Deneb, no, but I've been to plenty of other stars.
It started when I was sixteen. Actually, the day I turned sixteen. I had been dreaming of adventuring as a traveling writer. If I had only known that when I awoke I would be launched on an adventure through time and outer space, I may have stayed asleep.
Deneb took a deep breath, as if she'd been under water nearly too long and had finally broken the surface. She gulped the oxygen in and felt it pushed through her blood stream, carried to the cells that were so desperately craving it. She was panting slightly now and shivering. It was always cold. Her vision started to clear but she barely needed it anymore. She used her senses to feel what was around her. She'd trained herself to. It was a dangerous universe. The floor was hard, not stone, not plascrete, but not as cold as metal.
/A building or a ship then/ she thought to herself. Her vision cleared a little more with the helpful doses of oxygen. She was still lying on the floor, her muscles still frozen. She wouldn't be able to move for another few seconds, seconds she was going to make use of. There were walls and she didn't "feel" an opening, which meant she was probably in a room with the door closed. There were things in the room, but no people, always a boon in Deneb's case. Her vision cleared up with the last gulp of oxygen and she could see properly now. She quickly scanned all of the knowledge she had, trying to figure out where she might be. She tasted the air. It wasn't pure, but it wasn't quite the metallic, stale taste of ship air either. Still, she didn't feel she was in a building on a planet somewhere. The room was simple. There was a platform behind her with glowing circles on it. There was some sort of work station facing it. Deneb went around to the other side and scanned the control panel.
"A transporter, I'd bet" she said aloud to herself. She shook her head to herself. She wondered how far she'd gone this time, how long she'd be there. She felt her throat tightening up with the need for water. The dehydration was setting in then. She wouldn't have long before her legs would start to wobble, before her arms would go limp, before she lost the ability to control the movements of her head and finally would faint dead away, where ever she was.
This had many times landed her in trouble, until she'd finally trained her body to rush adrenaline through itself for just a few seconds after it'd happened so she could find somewhere to hide until she'd regained strength.
"Damn it!" she whispered under her breath as her mouth went entirely dry. She didn't have long. There was only one door out of the room. Deneb took a deep breath and walked up to it, not surprised when it opened for her. She took a hesitant step out. There was no one in the long hallway that led both ways and curved so that she couldn't see if there was anyone coming. The hallway was a nice comforting nothing color. Deneb rolled her eyes. After a certain point they had reverted to the "comforting" tones.
The girl took another deep breath and went to her left. There were doors on both sides of the corridor and they were all marked. They were an orangey color. She read the tags quickly. It was almost all crew quarters apparently. Deneb moved along more and more quickly, trying to get out of the residential area that would do her no good. She could feel her legs giving out on her and knew she'd really have to push it before her body collapsed beneath her.
She picked up the pace, regretting the headache she'd have and the gallon of water she'd need when she did regain consciousness. Still, she couldn't be caught out in the open, vulnerable to whoever, whatever was on this ship. (For she was now aware that it was definitely a ship)
"Storeroom" she stopped and reread the plate. What kind of storeroom would be on a residential block? Well, not the kind that would house anything hazardous. Probably the kind that not many people visited, unneeded furniture or extra blankets perhaps. Superfluous things. Perfect for her to hide among. She approached the door quickly and hurried through it when it opened obediently for her. Her legs were going numb and she didn't want to try to move her arms. She still had control of her neck muscles, a good sign. The room was full of barrels of who knew what type and some spacey boxes. She glanced around for somewhere to effectively hide herself. Well, at least almost effectively. The ship sensors shouldn't pick up her presence for a while, long enough to let her heal herself. She hoped anyway. Humans had a way of improving their technology.
There were some boxes, behind some barrels, that were fairly close to a bulkhead. They were stacked high enough to hide her sleeping form, and her feet wouldn't stick out if she made herself curl. It would be difficult, in the two seconds it had taken her to decide on the hiding spot, her legs had seized up. She would have to use her arms to move them mechanically, and she wasn't sure how she was going to get her arms to move, but she would do it. She took a breath, desperately wishing for some water, and used her brain to tell the nerves in her legs to tell the muscles in her legs to move. It took a second, an amazingly long amount of time for the human body to react to a mental message. But she got one foot in front of the other, and then the second foot in front of that one and she moved herself that way until she was squeezed between the boxes and bulkhead. It had taken a tremendous effort. She now laboriously controlled her collapse to the floor. When she was done she moved one arm at a time to pull her knees in toward her chest. By that time she'd lost neck control.
She passed out with her hands still about her knees.
