London, Wednesday 19th January 1994
Early hours of the morning
Unable to sleep, Chrissie had settled herself on the sofa with a blanket over her legs and a book on her lap. Far too big for the room it was in, the overstuffed sofa with its heavy, chenille fabric was old and worn, but extremely comfortable and on nights like this, when sleep eluded her, which just lately seemed to be every night, she would curl up with a mug of hot chocolate and read for a while.
Tonight though, the adventures of Commander Vimes and Corporal Carrot were not holding her attention. The Night Watch series of books by Terry Pratchett was one of her favourites, second only to Tolkien's Lord of the Rings trilogy, but no matter how hard she tried to concentrate, she could not focus on the story.
After eighteen months living in an overcrowded flat that had never been meant for three adults and two children, Chrissie had become used to having people constantly around and now that she was alone, the building seemed unnaturally quiet and empty. It was way past curfew and even the street was quiet. The raid would have started by now. She hadn't wanted to know the details just in case, but she knew that somewhere out there, Sarah and the Enterprise team were risking their lives to rescue her brother and the other prisoners. Scared, and feeling very isolated and helpless, Chrissie could only pray for their success and their safe return.
She must have dozed off at some point, because a sudden sound brought her awake, heart racing in momentary panic. She heard it again and relaxed - just an owl. Picking up the mug, she took a mouthful of its contents and grimaced. Hot chocolate did not taste good when it was cold. The clue was in the name, she thought wryly, getting up and padding barefoot into the kitchen to put the kettle on to boil; it had to be hot to be drinkable. The tiles of the kitchen floor felt cold underfoot after the warmth of the carpet and she grimaced, wishing she'd remembered to put her slippers on.
Just about to open the cupboard door to retrieve the tin of cocoa powder, she heard a noise again and this time it wasn't an owl. A scrabbling sound… something out in the public hallway. She froze as she heard it again, louder this time. The handle rattled. Thankful the door was locked, she put down the tin and picked up a kitchen knife, hoping she would not need to use it but feeling better with something in her hand that she could use to defend herself. The handle rattled again, more forcibly this time and cautiously, Chrissie made her way to the door. Trying to prevent her voice from trembling and giving away her fear, she called out, "Who's there?"
"It's Sarah, open up… I've got David with me."
"Oh God! Hang on a minute…" Hands shaking, Chrissie put down the knife and fumbled with the key, almost dropping it as she attempted to unlock the door. It seemed to take far too long but in reality only a few seconds passed before the key turned, releasing the lock with an audible click and the door swung open, revealing a sight that was both welcome and horrifying at the same time.
Sarah stood in the doorway, one arm around David's waist, the other holding on to the arm that was lying across her shoulders. He was leaning heavily against her, only her support keeping him upright. David's face was so badly damaged it was almost unrecognisable, badly swollen covered in cuts and bruises. The medical scrubs he'd been wearing at the time of his arrest were torn and filthy, stained with blood, some of it his, some of it that of the Klingon patient he'd been treating.
Chrissie almost stepped back in horrified shock, but pulling herself together, she moved to his side to help support him and together the two women manoeuvred him into the flat. "Put him on the sofa and I'll grab the first aid kit," Chrissie said, forcing herself to stay calm and remember her first aid training. She was the sister of a doctor; she would not panic at the sight of blood - that would be embarrassing and he'd never let her hear the end of it - assuming he recovered… She stopped that thought right there. Of course, he would recover, any other option was unacceptable
Getting David settled on the sofa, Sarah removed her woolly hat and jacket, carelessly throwing them on the nearby chair. After the freezing cold of the night air, the flat seemed unbearably hot.
"How did you get here?" Chrissie asked as she came back from the kitchen with the first aid kit in one hand, a jug of hot water in the other and some clean cloths draped over her arm. "The prison is miles away and the underground is shut. Surely you didn't walk all that way?"
If David hadn't been in such a state, Sarah would have smiled smugly. "I stole a car. I've left it at the end of the street."
Chrissie stared at her. "You did what? Are you telling me you drove halfway across London in the middle the night? Don't you know how dangerous that is? There's a curfew in operation! If you'd been stopped…" "Why didn't you just call the Enterprise and have him beamed direct to their sickbay?"
Sarah frowned as she took the first aid kit from her friend. She had no answer for that. She just hadn't thought of it.
And they thought she was the useless one? Chrissie shook her head in disbelief. There was no point in starting a fight now though, David's welfare was more important. Turning her attention back to the task at hand, she dipped a cloth in the hot water and began to wipe the blood from her brother's face.
Together the two women worked, cleaning up David's wounds, but it quickly became apparent that he needed more help than they could give him. Barely conscious now, his heart rate was erratic and he was struggling to breathe. Chrissie placed her fingers on his wrist to check his pulse and looked up after a moment, her eyes frightened. "We should call an ambulance".
"It'll take too long," Sarah said worriedly. "We need Dr McCoy."
Chrissie was not going to argue with that. He had been tortured by the Klingons and she didn't think twentieth century medicine was going to be much help. Not only that, she realised, the only doctor in the area with experience of this type of injury was lying there in desperate need of medical treatment. Grabbing the communicator Kirk had given her from the table, she hesitated for a moment, then handed it to Sarah. "Here… you've used these before… you call him."
The American girl flipped it open and pressed the button that activated it. "Sarah to Enterprise. This is an emergency. We need urgent medical assistance."
The voice that came back over the communicator was that of Lieutenant Uhura, Enterprise's communications officer. Her duty shift had finished hours ago, but with the captain off the ship on a vital mission, she had chosen to remain on the bridge. "Enterprise here. What is the situation?"
"We've got David." Sarah told Uhura quickly, "But he's injured and I think he's going into cardiac arrest."
"Understood." Uhura was already opening a channel to the relevant departments as she spoke. "Transporter room, emergency beam up. Doctor McCoy, stand by to receive patients."
The Court of Justice, Qo'noS, 2375
Stopping again, Chrissie took another drink of the now warm water. Its taste was unpleasant but her throat was parched from talking in such intense heat.
"Now that I was home again, having beamed back down from the Enterprise," Chrissie said, continuing her story again, "… and I was beginning to get used to the convenience of this whole teleportation thing… the next thing I remember was that my feet were absolutely freezing…"
In the hurry to get David to Enterprise, Chrissie hadn't even thought about finding her errant slippers - or better, a pair of shoes before beaming up. She'd have a hot shower, she thought; get changed out of her pyjamas and… pyjamas! Chrissie stopped. Oh God, how embarrassing! She'd been parading around a starship barefoot and in her pyjamas! Pink and fluffy ones with Winnie the Pooh on the front and a ridiculous 'Bee my Honey' slogan emblazoned across the chest. Despite all the tension she was under… or maybe because of it… a slight giggle escaped her. No wonder the medical staff had been giving her such strange looks. Well, they were warm and comfortable… and… there was blood on them. David's blood. Her brother's blood. Just like that, her amusement vanished and the tears came.
She was on the verge of hysteria, she realised vaguely, and that helped nobody. She could not afford to break down. With monumental effort, gasping for breath to prevent the threatening panic attack, she somehow managed to regain her control.
An hour later, feeling much better after a long, hot shower, she opened the wardrobe and pulled out one of her favourite dresses. Calf length, with long sleeves, its dark green colour suited her colouring and the soft, wool fabric draped beautifully, flattering her curves. Not that the Klingons… or anyone else for that matter… were going to care what she looked like, but she felt good in it and right now she needed every bit of confidence she could get.
It was going to be cold outside and looking out the window, she noted that it had started to snow – not heavily and it probably wouldn't settle, but still… she would need to wrap up warmly before going out. Pulling on a cardigan and some black leather knee-length boots, she reached for her winter coat. Gloves and a brightly coloured scarf were added to the ensemble and she was ready to go.
Doing a quick check around the living room to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything, her eyes fell on Sarah's discarded leather jacket. That reminded her… she'd given Sarah her communicator, which meant Sarah's was probably still in her jacket pocket. Biting her lip, she considered what to do with it. The flat had already been searched by the Klingons and with the arrest of – what was his name? Jamal? – they could very well return at any time. She could not risk leaving evidence of twenty-third century technology where it could be found.
Decision made, Chrissie picked up the jacket, checking the pockets and quickly removing the communicator. As she did so, her questing hand found something else as well and pulling the unknown object out, she was horrified to find a Starfleet issue weapon… one of their high tech ray gun/energy weapon thingies… phaser… that was it, that was the word they had used. Whatever it was called, it was dangerous and she stared at it in consternation. If the communicator could not be safely left, even less so could this thing. What the hell was she supposed to do with it?
Curiously, Chrissie studied the device. In its shape and appearance, it was not that different to a twentieth century handgun and although she knew it operated on very different principles, firing a beam of energy rather than physical bullets, its basic use could not be that different. Point it at a target and press the trigger.
After seeing the state of her brother, Chrissie had no doubt about what would happen to her if she was caught with the phaser. But so far the Klingons had been reasonable in their treatment of her and she decided to take a gamble on that continuing and keep it with her. It was a massive risk, but she didn't know what else to do. Praying that she'd made the right choice, she took a deep breath and shoved it into the bottom of her bag, along with the communicator.
At least David was safe now. When they had materialised in Enterprise's sickbay, Dr McCoy had been waiting them with a team of nurses and after asking a few questions, they'd whisked him straight into surgery.
Chrissie studied her friend as they waited. "You're in love with him, aren't you?"
Sarah blushed. "Is it that obvious?"
"I've known you a long time." Chrissie found herself grinning at the pink tinge in her friend's cheeks. "Does he know?"
The American woman shook her head. "I don't think he's ever noticed me like that."
"So, make him notice," Chrissie advised. "Because if you don't, you'll be waiting a long time."
Sarah considered that. "And you don't mind?"
"Why should I?" Chrissie asked. "As long as you feel ready, I think it's fantastic. You two deserve to be happy and I've thought of you as a sister for a long time now.
Sarah's eyes filled up. "After Joe died, I never thought I would fall in love again, but David is… special. And I think of you as a sister too."
Impulsively, Chrissie reached over and hugged her friend.
It must have been about three hours that they sat there, waiting. Eventually an exhausted looking Dr McCoy came out to speak to them. It was good news, he told them. Given time to rest, David should make a full recovery from his injuries.
Satisfied that her brother was in good hands, Chrissie had reluctantly decided to return home, leaving Sarah to stay with David. She had to go back to Klingon headquarters and speak to the security captain. Her brother was safe. Sarah was safe. Now she had to find her children.