EVERYONE: I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to write this next chapter, I've had so much going on lately. Thanks again to Maddie for editing and Carly, I hope you enjoy it ;D
'Ensign Smith, please report to the Brig. There's… someone here you might want to see.'
Ensign Maddison Smith flipped her communicator shut and carefully packed away the slide and microscope. Her actions were hasty but cautious as her mind flooded with unanswered questions: Why do I have to go to the Brig? Is there someone down there? Is it Pavel? He was meant to be on an away mission. Had something happened? Why didn't they send him to the medical bay?
Once satisfied the equipment was in its correct place, she left the biolab and made a beeline straight for the Brig. Her heart pounded against her ribs in uneasy anticipation as she was met by the crewman that had contacted her, guarding the contents of a holding cell.
'What's happened? What is it?' Smith asked as she attempted to see past the guard. But thanks to her slight height impediment at exactly five foot nothing, this action was to no avail against the adjacent crewman's six foot hulking figure. 'Something… something's happened to Pav–' she gulped and corrected her informal prose. '– to Ensign Chekhov, hasn't it? Is he hurt? Why isn't he in medical?'
Her frantic questions were met with a grim face. 'We believed that because of your close relationship…' he sighed. 'You should see for yourself.' He stepped aside to let her pass.
Deeply confused, Smith took two steps into the room and stopped, eyes trained on the large cell before her as if she'd just brushed noses with Death himself. Her breath halted as she watched a normally calm and cheerful Ensign sat disgruntled before her, attempting to restrain his fury.
'Pavel…?' Smith asked hesitantly, as if saying the name aloud would bring light to her bewilderment.
From within the holding cell, Ensign Chekhov slowly raised his eyes to meet her worried gaze. She took an involuntary step backwards, unprepared for the cold, harsh stare he shot her.
He stood and walked towards her, nose inches away from the prison's energy wall. A quizzical expression replaced the one of rage he wore only moments prior. 'Maddison…?' He queried with the same hesitancy she had shown.
Ensign Smith felt a wave of relief wash over her as he spoke her name, but it unleashed a torrent of frustrated questions she needed answered.
Her head snapped towards the security officer who had been guarding him. 'Why is he in here?' She marched towards him, and despite her short stature, her angered expression and raised voice startled the crewman. 'Tell me what happened.'
'Calm down, Smith,' he hushed her, attempting to defuse her temper.
'I am calm. I just need to know why my partner is imprisoned,' she shouted.
He ushered her out of Chekhov's range of hearing, back towards the Brig's entrance, to which she reluctantly obliged. 'There were some difficulties on the mission where Ensign Bocking and the other crewman's lives were placed in jeopardy.'
'But why is Pavel in a holding cell? Shouldn't he be in medical for testing then?' Her eyes turn back to Chekhov, who still stared at her with perplexity and astonishment.
The officer shook his head. 'Not if Chekhov was the one who put those lives in danger.'
Ensign Smith frowned and she stared at the crewman's face, searching for any sign of bluff or falsity – and found none. She laughed is disbelief, 'You can't be serious. You're talking about a man whose worst crime was forgetting to call Kirk, "Captain". Pavel could never do that.'
'You saw him when you entered. You saw his face.' He paused briefly, watching Smith's face whiten and her smile falter as she recalled his icy glare. 'That rage… That isn't like him. Imagine what that anger could do. What it did do... Chekhov is dangerous. The report is accurate, Smith. I'm sorry.
A moment passed where nobody spoke as the crewman let the information sink in.
'Maddison,' Chekhov called, almost inaudibly. The voice was almost tranquil, but failed to possess the light-heartedness that would generally accompany his accent. It sounded sincere, yet hollow.
Ensign Smith slowly turned, still stunned in shocked silence, but was able to walk towards him when he beckoned for her to come closer with a wave of his hand. Her cautious footsteps echoed in the cavernous room, the slow walk unmistakably forced towards a man she knew but could not recognise.
'Maddie,' he spoke softly as she came to a stop before him. 'I don't know vhat they've told you, but you know I vould never do anything to hurt a member of Starfleet. I need you to believe me.' He looked down in thought, searching for the right words that would convince her. 'I don't know vhat happened down there. It vas all a blur, and then the phaser vas in my hand and I…' he hesitated, 'I blacked out.' He finished quickly. His eyes shot up and gazed directly into Smith's, pleading. 'They're all in danger. I have to help them,' he stated in fear, and began pacing.
Chekhov's pleas wrenched at Smith's heart, and she felt compelled to aid him, but she still remained aware of the circumstance at hand. 'We'll send assistance if need be.'
He turned swiftly towards her, his eyes staring straight into hers. 'I vould never hurt any member of this crew… especially you. Do you believe me? Maddison…' He reached out to take her hand, as if forgetting about the transparent barrier of energy that separated them. It shimmered slightly as his hand made contact with it, and he looked down in dismay.
Gradually, Ensign Smith nodded, her chest aching. 'Yes, Pavel. I believe you.' Her mind swarmed with scenarios, considering that perhaps the information had been erroneous, flawed, and perchance Chekhov was innocent. She dropped her voice, 'What happened down there? Really.'
'Honestly, Maddison –' Chekhov began, but was cut off abruptly by the beeping of Ensign Smith's communicator.
She took the communicator from her belt and looked back at him for a moment, 'I'll be right back.' As she moved towards a far corner of the room, she could feel both sets of eyes belonging to both the security officer and Chekhov trained on her. A feeling of uneasiness had begun to stir within her that made her stomach churn. Either that or the lunch she'd eaten wasn't agreeing with her. Nevertheless, she flipped open the communicator, 'Smith here.'
'Ensign, this is medical. You are located in the Brig currently, correct?' an officer on the other end asked.
'Yes, sir,' the Ensign replied nervously, believing there to be another new catastrophic development.
'Word has just been sent through from Doctor McCoy and he wants blood samples from Ensign Chekhov. Can you please attain those samples?'
Confused, the Ensign responds, 'Oh, of course, sir. I'll do that now. Smith out.' She snapped her communicator shut and moved back towards Chekhov's cell. 'Pavel, McCoy's just issued a request for me to carry out. I'll be right back.'
He nodded with a small smile as she left the Brig.
What in Saturn's rings is going on here? Smith thought as she felt the eyes of the two men burn into her the entire way.
The unexpected jolt of Ensign Tebbutt's sternum alarmed the small group as she coughed and spluttered to breathe. She rolled to her side as the water left her lungs in a sudden and violent motion.
Spock, who had just lain back in defeat, almost doubted the scene before his eyes, and he quickly scurried towards her on all fours to aid the Ensign. He removed the hair slowly from her face – an uncharacteristic display of affection that startled both Bocking and Uhura, but comforted his companion.
Slowly, Tebbutt turned to face Spock, and her cheek brushed against his fingertips. 'S-Spock?' she managed between coughs.
His hand lingered against her cheek only a brief moment more then he retracted it, tapping her back as she coughed the last vestiges of water from her system. 'It is...good, to see the your lungs and heart have returned to their normal functioning parameters.'
Carly gave a weak laugh,'I thought we were dead,' she said as she sat up slowly Spock supporting her.
'We all thought you were dead.' Emily said from the computer console at the other end of the room. In the midst of the sudden excitement of Carly's miraculous recovery, both she and Uhura had thought it best they leave both Spock and Carly to their own reunion.
'Are there more people a part of the away team other than the two of you?' Spock asked abruptly, trying to steer the subject back to more logical grounds, none of which concerning emotion. He stood, helping Ensign Tebbutt to her feet and making their way over to Bocking and Uhura.
'Yes. Doctor McCoy, Mr Scott and Ensign's Griffiths and Johnson' Uhura answered promptly, 'We did have Mr Chekhov and Ensign Williams but...things got complicated.'
'Complicated in what manner, Lieutenant?' Spock queried.
Before Uhura could respond, the four were startled by a small bleeping noise that began to emit from the console from which Emily had been working. The Ensign quickly turned her attention back to the console and, after peering at the screen for a moment, thumped the top of the machine with a quick, solid, bang of her fist. Immediately the noise stopped and the display on the screen changed, showing the life forms present within the structure.
'Bloody broken equipment.' Bocking muttered under her breath.
'What are you doing, Em?' Carly asked, irritably. She was so damn tired, and she had a splitting headache, and noises like that weren't helping.
'When you came too we tried to contact the others...ah, you explain it Uhura, I've got to hook my tricorder up to this thing before it dies.' Bocking finished in a half mumble.
'All communications ceased as soon as we entered the structure.' Uhura said, taking over swiftly. 'The last message we sent through to the Enterprise were orders from Doctor McCoy to get blood samples from Pavel.'
Spock nodded then said, 'It also seems that my previous question about the complicated nature of Mr Chekhov and Mr Williams' whereabouts still remains unanswered.'
'He went...crazy, I've never seen him act like that before,' Uhura said. 'It was like he was a completely different person.'
'We have bigger things to worry about at the moment,' Carly interjected. She had walked over to the console during Uhura's explanation and was watching the screen. 'There's an unidentified life form heading straight for Mr Scott's and Ensign Griffiths' position.' She looked up, straight at Spock. 'And they're moving fast.'
Mr Scott was, if anything, a little spooked. As he and Ensign Griffiths journeyed further into the depths of the structure the amount of debris continued to grow. Metal rods and other machinery lay strewn across the corridors and both officers had to constantly pick their way through the junk. To make matters worse, the structure itself had an eerie feel to it which Scott struggled to ignore.
'This rubbish' he said, waving his hand at the debris on the ground and breaking the unbearable silence that enveloped them. 'It all looks like pieces from me engine room.'
Ensign Griffiths was hushed for a moment as his gaze narrowed to the grounded items. 'You know, I think you're right. They do look familiar.' He looked around, 'Actually, the corridors themselves look pretty familiar too...'
Scott gave a small laugh, 'If I didn't know better, I'd say it's the Enterprise.'
Scott was beginning to suspect he didn't. This train of thought, however, was shattered by the sound of a phaser going off and a small yell from behind. Scott spun around, phaser up, just in time to see Ensign Griffiths fall to the ground dead, his killer standing with his back turned over him.
'Drop yer phaser!' The Chief Engineer yelled, drawing his own phaser.
The stranger froze. Scott couldn't quite pick it but there was something oddly familiar about him.
'They're not your engines Mr Scott,' the stranger growled softly, with an all too familiar accent. 'They're mine!' And with that he spun around, firing as he went, narrowly missing Scotty but making contact with his phaser, knocking it from his hand.
Scott stood transfixed and frozen with shock. The stranger was, apart from the expression of pure and uncontainable rage on his face, him.
'What?' Scotty spoke, utter disbelief evident in his voice.
And quickly as the stranger had turned and shot before, the angrier version of Scott was bearing down on Scotty. Before he knew what was happening a rock solid fist connected forcefully with Scotty's jaw.
Scotty staggered backwards, taken aback, but had enough sense to duck the next fist that came flying at him. He then crouched low and threw a punch into his assailant's stomach, temporarily winding him, following up with an attempted blow to the chest which, unbelievably, was blocked.
Scotty threw up both arms to cover his head as he caught a glimpse of another hit too fast to dodge coming his way.
Another hit connected with the side of Scotty's head and he stumbled back, stunned, and tripped backwards over a stray piece of metal.
Laying prone on the ground, ears ringing, Scotty looked up to see his attacker coming at him, phaser leveled at his face at point blank range.
'This is for bringing us here' the doppelgänger snarled. His finger tightened on the trigger. Scotty looked up at his assailants face, he couldn't believe this, the last thing he'd see was the look of pure anger and hatred on this bloke's ugly mug.
But suddenly the twisted features of the mans face went slack, due to the solid thunk of a metal pipe connecting with the side of his head.
The look-alike fell forward and landed on top of Scotty who quickly pushed the limp form roughly aside.
Now standing in front of Scott was a somewhat stunned, but triumphant looking, Doctor McCoy.