Thanks again for all the support and encouragement you guys have given me. A VERY special thanks to Maddie in particular who helped me A LOT (and I mean A LOT) with this chapter :D

Chapter 3

The landing party took a step back as horror engulfed their entireties.

'Get off me, Pavel!' Ensign Bocking growled as she struggled in Chekhov's surprisingly strong grip.

'Emily stop, or I vill blow your brains clean out of your head.' Chekhov replied with a barely suppressed snigger. 'Oh zis is fun,' he grinned menacingly.

'Ensign!' Scott barked. 'This is an offense punishable by Court Marshal, what the bloody hell do you think you're doing?'

Chekhov shook his head, 'I'm performing my duty to the best of my ability, sir.'

'And what is this "duty" of yours, Chekhov?' McCoy interjected. 'To kill innocent people? You're a bright, young Ensign. Dammit man, you should know better!'

'NONE OF YOU ARE INNOCENT!' screamed Chekhov in sudden rage.

'And what have we done that is so damn horrible that drove you to this?' McCoy retorted, his face unchanging. His eyes remain locked on the enraged Ensign as he warily inched his hand towards the phaser in his belt.

'You're very existence,' Chekhov spat, then cried out in pain as Ensign Bocking's elbow connected with his ribs. She then thrust her heal downwards with as much force as she could muster right into her assailants foot. Another more agonizing yell of pain issued from Chekhov's throat, giving Bocking enough time to pull herself free. Chekhov, however, had come to his senses more quickly than the Ensign had anticipated and he lunged forward desperately and caught her wrist.

Pulling the girl back in, Chekhov jammed his phaser roughly underneath her jaw.

Security Officers Griffiths and Johnson leveled their phasers at the rouge Starfleet officer.

'One more move and she dies. Lower your veapons.' Chekhov announced. 'One more little stunt like that and you'll catch your death.' He whispered menacingly in Bocking's ear.

'My god man.' McCoy muttered.

'What is it exactly that you would like us to do now that you have Ensign Bocking here as hostage?' Scott said, with more than a hint of panic in his voice. It was quite clear that Scott's mask of calm was rupturing.

Chekhov's mood abruptly changed,'You know, I've alvays found it very amusing that people like you vould do nearly anything to get the people you are close to back...what fools you are. I vas always going to kill her.' He pushed the phaser even harder under Bocking's jaw and tightened his finger on the trigger.

McCoy was too slow to bring his phaser to target Chekhov properly and it sickened him to hear the sound of the phaser being fired to snuff out the poor Ensign's life. But the bolt of energy had not come from Chekhov's phaser. It had come from Scott's.

Chekhov hit the ground hard, his phaser jerking upwards and firing as he fell. Ensign Bocking tumbled forward and Scott rushed towards her.

He folded her into his embrace and they hugged for a fraction longer than what was socially deemed acceptable.

'Are you alright, lass?' he spoke finally, pulling her from him and placing both hands on her face to inspect her. She was visibly shaken. He lowered his hands to her back.

'I'm fine, Scotty,' Emily replied, a weak smile on her lips. 'Good shot,' she looked to Chekhov, lying motionless. She turned back to Scotty and became very aware of his eyes on her, filled with worry and fear of the worst outcome. His hands on the small of her back locked her in place, and her palms lay upon his chest feeling the drum of his erratic heart.

McCoy cleared his throat loudly, and the pair suddenly divided, conscious about their display.

'Well,' McCoy's eyes searched the sky with the same stern gaze. 'This is sufficiently awkward.'

Uhura suppressed a grin, 'Come on guys, we have to keep moving.'

'Right,' McCoy responded, all too enthusiastically. He turns, 'Let's have a look at Mr Insane Russian over here.' He made his way over to the immobile form of Chekhov and knelt down beside him, checking his pulse. 'Well, he's not dead.' He announces – a more optimistic clarification compared to his usual blunt and stating-the-obvious informative response of: 'He's dead, Jim'.

'Obviously. You think I'd 'ave it set to kill?' Scott replied, bewildered. 'He's too bloody good a tactical officer to let go.' He added quietly.

'Well Chekhov's phaser certainly was. He'll be out for at least half an hour, I suggest we transport him back up to the ship.'

Scott nodded and pulled out his communicator, 'Scott to Enterprise.'

'Enterprise here, sir.'

'Lock onto Mr Chekhov's co-ordinates and beam him straight to the Brig.'

'Aye, sir.'

McCoy stepped back and watched Chekhov dematerialise, leaving an empty patch of ground where he had once lay. He then turned and made his way over to Emily and upon reaching her, took out his tricorder and began scanning.

'Leonard, I'm fine,' she rolled her eyes, reaching out in an attempt to cease the Doctor's scans.

'Well we need to be absolutely sure of that, don't we?' he responded sternly.

'Hey,' Uhura called from over near the hatch. 'Chekhov actually ended up opening the entrance way.'

'Are you quite done there, Doctor McCoy?' Scott queried, 'We still have the Captain, Commander Spock and Ensign Tebbutt to find.'

'Yes I'm done.' McCoy replied, pursing his lips in frustration as he slung his tricorder back over his shoulder. 'Let's go get the bastards.'

Each member of the search party glanced over at him, sharing the same quizzical look.

'The people that took them,' he clarified, defending himself.

They turned and marched through the entrance in single file, Uhura in the lead and McCoy taking up the rear.

'Morons for being taken,' McCoy added to himself, rolling his eyes as he stepped into the dark abyss behind the others. 'Dammit, Jim.'

Once inside, the landing party split off into teams of two: Uhura and Bocking, Scott and Griffiths, McCoy and Johnson. Each pair roamed the premises in search of their comrades.

It had seemed a little too easy to infiltrate their way so deep into the base which looked oddly familiar, and both Uhura and Bocking were on edge. The corridor they were now traversed was almost in total darkness, the only change being a single crack of light that streamed through a half open doorway, and illuminated a portion of the cabin.

They cautiously made their way through the doorway. The sight they entered was not what they had expected, and it took them a moment to absorb what they saw. In front of them was a cell, very much alike to the Brig aboard the Enterprise, but what lay inside it surprised them further. The cell was full of water that engulfed the figures of both Commander Spock and Ensign Carly Tebbutt.

Both stood, mouths agape.

'Oh my god...' Bocking murmured.

Uhura was the first to act, as she quickly ran forward and activated the control to drain the water from the cell. When it was half empty she twisted another switch and let the remainder flood forward as the clear wall vanished. Spock, remarkably, was still breathing, coughing and spluttering sporadically, his chest rising and falling but his eyes remained shut. The same could not, however, be said for Ensign Tebbutt.

Emily rushed over and tipped Tebbutt's head to the side, draining all the water from her lungs. She began CPR on the Ensign while Uhura attempted to wake Spock.

'Spock,' she cried desperately as she shook him to his senses. 'Spock, wake up!' A small moan issued from the Vulcan's lips and his eyes fluttered open. 'Spock, thank god, you're ok!'

Without warning Spock sat up, his face a light shade of green. 'Carly,' he croaked, 'Where's Carly?'

'She's... here,' Bocking puffed between compressions. 'What are you-'

Spock pushed her hand urgently out of the way and commenced CPR himself. '1...2...3...' He breathed, then bent over Tebbutt's head, pinched her nose and pushed his mouth against hers, forcing air into her lungs.

1...2...3...

He forced more air into Carly's immobile lungs.

1...2...3...

Spock continued desperately to resuscitate the Ensign for a solid ten minutes.

'Commander.'

It is Uhura. 'Commander, you have to stop.'

Spock shook his head and continued.

'Spock...'

'I can't let her die!' Spock exclaimed angrily as he continued his efforts.

He felt a hand take hold of his wrist. 'Let her go, Spock... she's gone,' Bocking spoke softly.

Slowly, Spock looked up and found himself staring directly into the Ensign's eyes, which brimmed with tears but remained firm. He then turned to Uhura and found she had the same unyielding gaze.

He slumped back, defeated, fighting to control the emotions that he always held at bay. An overwhelming sense of grief and anger welled inside of him and building into a tsunami that threatened to engulf his entire being. He clenched his fists.

A single tear slid down Spock's face as the Ensign's words echoed inside his head: 'Let her go, Spock... she's gone.'