Hmm, I do believe there was a call for longer chapters? Just kidding - I agree they've been getting too short, it was nice to finally get to a good fleshy character development one. Dunno how many readers are here from my Hobbit story, but I really enjoyed writing how Evelette handles death differently than Sylven. But yes - I think it's about time I send out a thank you to all you fantastic readers, it's always such an honor to have people read your work, and your reviews are always a massively appreciated source of encouragement. You're all my heroes. Humbled as always to be noticed, I'll get out of your way and let you all find out how the surgery goes. Thank you for your continued support!
Eve wouldn't be required to free hand. The drill – if that's what one would call the medieval looking tool – had a stand which could be adjusted to the correct point. When secured, she would simply have to pop a small trigger, and it would shoot forward the space allotted. John had already adjusted the mechanism to enter the correct depth. Hardly any of the point would actually be going in, but it didn't make it less terrifying.
Once she attached the drill, she moved around to the side to insure she was exactly on. It would be a tad awkward missing, and the room for error was virtually non-existent. She could not be doing this twice.
Shifting back to the front of the machine, she lifted her head to see John on the table beyond. This was the second time she'd ever seen him peaceful, and she's been the one to drug him the time before as well.
What a curse, to always live in interesting times.
"Good luck." She murmured, though she wasn't sure who to.
Her finger slid over the trigger, and she waited a moment as she listened to the steady beat of his heart, conveyed by his cardiovascular monitoring screen.
"Good luck."
She popped the trigger, and the spike leapt forward. At once, there was an explosion of noise fro the screens alerting her that she'd punctured the brain. She released the rigger, and slowly the spike retracted it's red tip. She wheeled the machine back, snatching up gauze from a nearby tray and pressing it to the wound oozing blood into his hair.
By the time she'd gone through three pads, she was hopping on her heels. The brain map was showing none of the usual pulsing of nerves towards the puncture area, though she could see the scattered remains of the chip.
"John?" She called. "John can you hear me?"
She cursed, dropping the latest bloody square and bolting to his side, ripping out the needle from his arm and yanking off the mechanism keeping his head lifted. She pulled off the restraints, grabbing a genuine needle with the serum derived from his blood and ramming it down into his chest. It was of specific design, piercing through the sternum to reach the heart. She released the red liquid into his chest, then yanking the needle out sprinted to the medical case, ripping open the cabinet and looking wildly at the bottled with their small labels.
"Come on John, come on!" She snarled, grabbing bottles and tossing them aside. "You've got to -"
She whipped round as there was heaving noise, and John's eyes sprang open. "Shit!"
Snatching up a green bottle she'd thrown aside she grabbed and injector and rammed the vial in, leaping onto the table as he tried to get up and pushing on his chest. "Lie down – JOHN LIE DOWN!"
He slammed against the metal and she shoved the injector into his neck, continuing to keep a arm across his chest as he shook like he was in the grips of a minor seizure. She set aside the injector, watching the screen above her head. The nerve activity was beginning, but the hole was still there.
John let out a strangled scream as she shut her eyes, leaning all her weight on him as he began thrashing. "Shh.." she said, though she knew he couldn't hear her over the pain or his own voice. "It's going to stop soon. Just count back from ten."
"Ten." His shoulder jerked to once side nearly throwing her off. "Nine. Eight."
"Grah!" He yelped, slamming a fist so hard into the table it bent inward.
"Seven, six, five," she continued. Then he lashed out, catching her in the rips and sending her spinning off. She landed splayed on the floor, flesh slapping against the concrete. She lay still as he continued shouting, and then he scrambled off the table and landed in a heap by one of the legs, twitching. She put her hands under her shoulders, palms and knees burning as she hoisted herself up and began to crawl over to him. The machines had gone quiet with him off the table, scanning to try and locate him unsuccessfully.
John jolted up straight as she placed a hand on his arm, breathing in loud gasps. His eyes were wide, hair and face damp with sweat. It took him a minute to recognize her, and only after she removed the cap and slid out of the coat did the understanding return to him. "Did it work?"
Eve moved her hand off quickly, sitting back. She could feel where her body and face had hit first – she'd have an ugly bruise on her right side come tomorrow. "Yes."
He let his head fall back against the metal leg, eyelids drooping for a moment. "Good."
She let him sit for a while before she spoke up. "I should do a scan, make sure you're alright. You almost died, in case you were wondering. Whatever that sedative was, it was lowering your cellular development."
A noise of assent was the best she could hope to get from him, so getting to her feet with minimal fuss over her severely battered body, she wobbled over to grab the portable scanner, returning as sitting down beside him, lifting it up to head level and allowing it to begin the scan. The skull was fully healed, the connective tissue all but repaired along with the skin. The brain was healed, and the chip was on the whole relatively unmoved, fracturing minimal enough that it hadn't scattered.
"Well," She lowered the scanner. "For a very, very, old man, you're looking relatively healthy. Did anyone ever tell you you have a fractured chip in your brain? It gives character, I suppose, but it isn't exactly recommended to keep bits of debris in your skull."
He actually managed a chuckle, though he kept his eyes shut. "I'll consult my doctor about it. She is slightly above the average caliber."
"Slightly above average." She repeated, shaking her head in wonder. "Don't hurt yourself there John, that was nearly a compliment."
"You preformed… admirably."
"You're going to make me blush. Next you're going to tell me you don't think I'm blubberous and warty, so let's just stop now. Come on, we should get you somewhere to rest." She got back up, offering him a hand as he opened his eyes.
"No time." He shook his head, getting up with annoying ease. "I need to leave here in the next hour if I'm to make it to San Francisco."
"San Francisco." She said gravely. "You don't think I'm about to let you take on Starfleet today, do you? John, you just had brain surgery – you shouldn't even be awake yet!"
"If I were only human," he said dismissively heading to the door, "that would be true."
She had to struggle to keep up. "I don't care that you've got a super brain, you need to rest, eat. Your more than human, but you still need to follow the basic functions."
"And how do you propose to stop me?" He glanced over his shoulder then came up short. "Are you limping?"
"Yes, thank you for noticing, now slow your freakishly long strides and listen to me." She demanded. "As your doctor, I'm ordering you to sit and eat something."
"If you're so concerned, why not come with me?" He questioned distractedly, examining her leg. "Did you trip?"
"You threw me off when I was trying to hold you down." She huffed. "And I'll come with you if you take a minute to breathe."
"An hour, then I'm gone, and you should not be coming. It will be dangerous."
"Like brain surgery with a gigantic spear?" She was a little insulted. "If you're going after Marcus, then fine. I've given you the ability to do it and he has to be stopped before he moves the Deep Space Virus to mass testing stages. But we both have a reason to want him dead. You need revenge, I need to see that virus destroyed."
"Are you proposing we work together?" His amusement was more insulting still.
"I think we're a little passed the proposal don't you?" She countered. "When Marcus' people figure out your brain chip is out for good, how many seconds do you think it's going to take him to guess who you went to? I can't just go home, not without putting my family in danger. He killed yours, and mine is a lot more vulnerable. The only way they're safe is if Marcus is gone. And I can't leave that virus out there."
He moved towards her so quickly she couldn't help moving back, wincing as she hit the wall causing her side to ache.
"Doctor… you weren't willing to follow Marcus into the murder of millions, why would you willingly follow me?"
"Thousands."
"What?"
"You'll kill thousands to get what you want. It's how you were designed." She didn't avert her eyes from his. She couldn't be weak now. "Some to get what you want, then more on the station for us to get to the virus. I imagine I'll have to help you, at some point. But good people don't work on that station anyway."
"You worked there."
"Point proven."
He tilted his head. She breathed in sharply as he lifted a hand, placing it over her throat. He applied no pressure. He didn't need to – the point was made in the action. "You truly think you're capable of killing?"
"I think I already have, with that virus, I just haven't realized it till now." She felt a pearl of liquid slip down her cheek, but the shame she felt wasn't for crying. "If I don't help you kill thousands… I'll be responsible for the deaths of millions whether I agreed to it or not."
His fingers slid off her neck, and he moved back. "Very well."
Eve straightened, clearing her throat and wiping her cheek quickly. "So we leave in an hour?"
John nodded. "I'll take you to your things."
She followed him back down the hall, passing the door of the room she'd woken up in and into another large room, though this one was round, and dominated by a jumpship which had the same kind of dusty layer as the one on John's jacket. He gestured to a table off to the side with a computer, and she hurried to it as she saw her trench coat sitting next to the monitor. She pulled it around her gratefully, fighting the straps around the buckles. The warm crimson wool was welcome in the freezing air of the facility. It even smelled of home.
"What are you doing?" She asked, walking over to the ship which he'd climbed inside. She kept near the edge, slightly leery of the craft. "You stole this?"
"The idea disturbs you?" He didn't look up from programming.
"I'm adjusting my scope of the disturbing actually." She pushed some of her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. She moved around to the other side and climbed in, though she had to push her feet to one side to make room for a large black bag on the floor. She watched him working for a while – it was fairly interesting, as she had no knowledge of aircrafts.
"So you're programming out destination, creating a flight path?" She guessed.
He nodded. "I'm aware of your fondness for expensive attire, but you'll need to change for where we're going."
"Starfleet?"
"After that."
"Oh." She looked down at herself sadly. "Too 'I'm a medical professional?'"
"Too I don't know how to hold a phaser the correct direction."
She shot him a dirty look. "I do know how to use a phaser, by the way."
"Consider me warned. In the locker by the desk you'll find a bag of clothes, take what you like. We won't be returning here."
"It would be helpful if I knew where we were going."
"It will be dusty, the air will be unpleasant to breathe. And they dislike humans."
"Sounds like a good time."
Climbing out of the ship was a little more awkward, but she considered not landing on her face a success. She went back over to the desk, feeling along the wall until one of the panels slid up to reveal a locker with another black bag. She pulled it onto her shoulder, and not waiting for permission went back into the hall, retracing to her first room and returning to the bench. She threw the bag onto the black padding, taking a deep breath and dragging her fingers through her hair.
"Dusty and human hostile." She grumbled to herself. "Perfect for a newly created eco-terrorist."
She unzipped the pack, pushing the side back to reveal a tangle of clothing. She began pulling bits out, noticing at once that while some were for a masculine body, there were plenty for a woman as well.
"Arrogant bastard." She muttered, but it made her smile. All of the clothes looked well worn, but she managed to assemble the least damaged of the set. After a while she picked out a pair of tight fitting pants made of some sort of flexible material with little silver framed black hexagons for a pattern, a silver shirt with black mesh running up the sides to provide ventilation, and a coat that was a silver that might have once been purple, with three straps hugging under the bust and a decent hood to hide under. After a moment of consideration, she plucked up a hair of gloves and a red tattered scarf. As she slid on the gloves she became immediately aware that they had no middle or index finger, but figured beggars couldn't be choosers.
Changing in the room felt strange, and she found herself hurrying to be done with it. That was when she realized the flats would also be a problem.
She shifted about, trying to get comfortable in her new clothes as she pulled the scarf over her neck, trying tugging it up to cover her mouth then pushing it back down. She felt like an adventurer, minus the adventurous confidence.
Since the slip on shoes weren't going to do, she left them off and placed them aside with her shirt and pants on the bench. She was folding up her jacket when she felt the hard cylindrical form in the pocket.
The air in her throat caught, and she landed quickly on the bench to avoid hitting the floor. She tugged out the disk, throwing the coat on the floor. She turned it flat, then touched a hand to the silver circle printed onto the surface.
A small translucent Lacy appeared in front of her, grinning and waving wildly.
"Hi Aunty! Happy Birthday! Mommy says you forgot, so I'm not allowed to tell you till dinner time when I get to give you this, so you know we didn't forget! I wrote you a story, Aunty!" She waved a datapad, and Evelette laughed, putting a hand over her mouth as her eyes began to sting. "It's called, My Hero Aunty, by Lacy Donals!"
She heard the door open and tapped the button quickly, the hologram closing. John halted in the doorway, giving her a chance to clean away the tears forming without him seeing. He moved forward, stopping as he reached in front of her. He saw everything, she knew it instantly. He scanned her eyes, the disk in her hand, and had no need to ask.
"Are you prepared to go?" He inquired.
Sniffing she nodded, bobbing her head too quickly. She tucked the disk into her pocket. "You took my communicator."
"A necessary precaution." He was still assessing her state.
"I haven't got proper shoes." She gestured to her feet. "And that wasn't an hour, by the by."
"I have some to choose from." John relented, heading for the door.
She put her hands into her pockets, feeling the disk as he led the way back into the hanger. She didn't really look over the shoes in the locker, just grabbed the first set that looked her smaller – black boots without heels, though from the fact they came just above her knee they were clearly feminine. She meant to make comment on his presumptuousness, but wasn't in the mood as she climbed into the jumpship.
Eve watched the seat strap snake down over her chest, forming an X across her body and securing her in as John started the vehicle to life. It rumbled underneath her like a living thing, and she tried not to grip tight to anything as there came the shudder of takeoff. She distracted herself by looking upward, watching as the roof split apart into two halves, opening to a sea of stars. It would have been beautiful, if it weren't so lonely.
I don't have any family any more either. She thought, touching the disk again. She had forgotten her birthday.
"John… what's your name?"
He was silent for a moment, the jumpship continuing to hover over a massive stretch of forest. She glanced over at him to find him frowning ahead. Slowly he looked to her. "Khan."
Offering a hand, she smiled. "I'm Evelette."
He gripped the hand, rather than shaking it. Then they both sat back, he gripped the controls, and they took off - hurtling toward destruction.