AN: Yep…plowing on ahead. I hate to be a stickler/bitch here, but…reviews please? I mean…it keeps me inspired to know that people are actually reading, and liking what they see. Or maybe…is it a "generational" change? Because back in the day (oy…) we'd always review things, But…now..it just seems there are story alerts and such…I dunno…I'm sorry…I'm silly. * cough *. This isn't my first account, and I started writing on this site since I was eleven/twelve…so yeah…(yeah…not so great LotR fan fiction, there was one there it was a crossover with The Matrix…I'll stop there). As I have gotten very helpful and constructive feedback about Bones, I'll see what I can do about that. XD. Alright…moving on. This particular chapter's gonna be kinda disjointed…
…and thank you Cheerio Ninja. 3
Chapter Four: Greetings…
"How long have they been down there?"
Iilya grunted as he repaired a coolant leak. Sure she was a Russian ship, but the Cygnus could have used some repair before they left. Poor girl was like Swiss cheese. Though he understood that they really needed to get a move on, but…Christ, this was insanity. Captain Ignatevitch was really pushing her, when she didn't really need to be, and that's what frustrated him the most. This was the fifth leak in two weeks, and he didn't feel comfortable leaving her unattended. What was so damn important about moving so quickly that they weren't able to be sure that the old bird was airtight? But a sullen presence, and gaze close to his head made his concentration a bit fuzzy. Iilya paused as he thought of perhaps working a bit longer, realized it was fruitless, and pulled himself from under the intricate lacework of pipes. Inquisitive brown and saddened hazel met.
"Hannah…I'm sure he'll come back in one piece."
Since they were in the upper deck of the engine room, it was at least fairly cool. Hannah's sigh made Illya laugh as he pulled himself up. A tall gangly lad of twenty two, and the youngest superior engineer; his face didn't betray the fact he was Russian one bit. He observed his assistant's glum face: she was normally very exuberant (he would say excruciatingly so) and cheerful, yet had such a sarcastic humor, that he couldn't help but find her one of the most strange people he'd ever met. But it was better that way, and he liked her. But now to him, she was being ridiculous. Andrey was of Uzbek blood, and sometimes, even he was surprised by his insurmountable strength to press on even in the most daunting situations. If anyone would survive, it would be him. Iilya knew that both the engineer and the ship's first mate quickly attached themselves to one another platonically. Like…brother and sister. Iilya had personally hoped it would have flourished into something more, because…they would be really, and he meant, really adorable for each other. Maybe there was something he didn't know about; a dormant blossom in the bosom of the young engineer.
She accidentally kicked a pipe when she stood, her hair hanging limply in her face. Iilya's smile melted away into a stoic concern. So it was serious. It had to be else she wouldn't be this concerned. "They said there was a three in ten chance of survival…"
"Anya" Iilya's nickname for her fluttered between his lips. Her name was pretty close to it anyway. He pursed his lips as he witnessed the flourishing of tears at her eyes at the sordid attempt to comfort her, making the situation more known. If there was one thing that the engineer wasn't good at, it had to be consoling people. It always made him feel awkward, and it wasn't because that he didn't care about people. He just felt that there were better people better equipped with those skills. But he was the only one there, and he knew that if he didn't do something, he wouldn't get the work he needed done without her help. Sure he was first skeptical about Hannah. Everyone was. An American joining an all Russian crew? It was simply unheard of. But she had proven her worth, and wasn't at all like any American he had met. She was humble and kind, and very smart.
"He'll…he'll be okay. Andrey wouldn't do that to you." Iilya almost choked out, checking readings on his datapad. He soon looked zenith-ward as a wrench flew into a nearby wall. A few footsteps, a huff, and a turned back was all he received in reply. Thick brows raised in defensive confusion. Maybe it was eating at her deeper than he thought. Much deeper.
"Anya…"
"…I…can't."
He walked a few more paces towards her. Hannah had never gotten like this, not in the year he had gotten to know her. Bluntly he ground his teeth put it bluntly. "Hannah, would Andrey want you to give up so easily on him?"
He almost saw her froze. Iilya almost grinned, then thought it wouldn't be appropriate. His assistant slowly turned, confusion in those red, smudged eyes. It was kind of heartbreaking to see her as such. "…giving—?"
"If you're already so set on him not coming back, then you've already given up, haven't you?" He turned his head in a knowing manner, a little pressed for time. Though he hated seeing her like this, it was the best thing he could do for her right now, even better than he had ever tried for anyone before.
Her visage fell to the floor, her bangs hung in her face. After what seemed an eternity, the engineer's head raised quickly, her tear-stained face making her look rather…unattractive. "You're right…I'm being cranky…"
Iilya tilted his head and blinked in minute confusion "Come again?"
"Cranky?...no....that's not the right word…"
The head engineer almost laughed at the sudden change of things. He just needed to get her distracted, that was all "Well…I mean it works but…"
"Selfish! I mean selfish…" Hannah looked up in surprise, then bashful at her sudden outburst, and soon became aware of how quickly sound travels in these "tunnels". "Sorry…that was loud…"
Iilya couldn't stand it any longer and burst out laughing despite his assistant's confused face. He quickly started apologizing "No…it's not you…just…" He quickly sighed, "Oh…never mind."
"You mean…at my bad Russian?"
"Don't worry. Least you didn't say something like salacious. Then you'd be in trouble."
"Ebonfield…c'mon…wake up." A somewhat familiar voice rang through the vaulted chambers of her ears. She felt like she was submerged in wax, limbs creaking in dispute. Hannah forced her eyes open, shaking her head as she did so, and feeling that the motion might aid her in some way. A flickering light was really the only illumination in the room. The sporadic light would show the contours of the doctor's face briefly before being submerged in shadow once again. A faint green glow caught her eye as the faces of the captain and…Chekov appeared to be quickly looking through files. She groaned as a hand on her back aided her to lean upwards. Something was being said as her head ignited. The engineer felt the flesh of her eyelids crumple in pain, two fingers resting in the center of her forehead. Oh why did she have to be awake?
"…One of zere crew members was brought up…eh…" The ensign's light voice whispered in Russian to be quite sure of how a certain word would translate, then nodded to himself in silent accord "…dormant. Vell, in a few days time."
Hannah's eyes rolled from the top of her skull, gazing at the innards of the Cygnus hanging from the ceiling, splayed across the wall, much like what had happened to the crew. She clamped down, afraid she would enter into a panic soon enough. The stoic, ironical face of the doctor gazed upon her with concern. "You've been experiencing anterior epistaxis" A clouding of the engineers brow brought a sheepish look to McCoy's face. "…Means you've been bleeding from yer nose occasionally. Just don't want you swallowing it is all. It'll make you sick. And that's the last thing you need, huh?" He handed her the familiar water canteen, and, almost instinctively drank. She paused, alarmed at her rudeness, but it couldn't be helped. Green met deep hazel "…Thanks Doctor…McCoy." His name finally returning to her memory. A faint smile appealed at the corners of his mouth "Don't worry about that, I'm just an old, country doctor."
The engineer smiled only to finish the conversation, yet she was far from analyzing her current condition, as her confusion turned deeper. It would make sense, she had been dehydrated, and in this horrid environment for…well, long enough. Too long even. Maybe her nasal passageways became dry? It just didn't make any sense to her. And why was she feeling so wretched all the time? The engineer slowly turned to the captain and Chekov, eyes narrowed out of exhaustion.
"So it's been about a month since they've left Epsilon Five, huh?"
"Yes, sir. Ees interesting how long Anya surwived…"
Hannah quickly turned, and stood from the now uncomfortable sick bay table, eyes fraught with unknown hurt. It appeared that her body seemed to remember that it was dizzy as she leaned against the table, almost seeming to talk to it. She could feel the protective presence of the doctor flitting behind her. Though he was ensuring her well being, she just wished he would leave her alone "How did…? --did'ja forget my name?"
Chekov turned from the terminal, a confused look plastered to his spry face. "Zere is no true "nickname" for Hannah, so…Anya's the closest. Ees only logical…" Chekov grinned nervously, wondering if he had offended her. She shook her head, perhaps in an attempt to clear it. What had gotten into her? It was just a silly name…but Andrey…
"Sorry…just…just a silly coincidence…" The engineer shook her head. A hand was at her elbow, and Hannah choked down the annoyance factor as she did her best to look inquisitive. McCoy motioned for her to sit back down, almost simultaneously wiping his brow of sweat. Hannah obeyed, noting it was probably the best thing to do.
"Alright…well we should transfer all the medical files and get them back to the analytical department. Too bad we can't really get a good look around." Kirk nodded to the ship's pathetic and wounded appearance, smiling half jokingly. Chekov was about to protest, and so was Hannah, but Kirk's face made the two think otherwise. Despite the fact that he was the Captain of the famed Enterprise, he seemed like such a...douchebag. There was really no other way of putting it.
Before she could truly answer with some semblance of a witticism, a flicker of light braised jagged features. Then dark. Eyes widened, heart accelerated. The engineer suppressed an outburst as she turned away from what turned her stomach. A tangle of hair flicked past her shoulder as her gaze hit them, intent with suddenly moving expediently. McCoy looked at her, concerned "Something up?" He looked to where her gaze had quickly had withdrawn from. The doctor shook his head, offering the canteen again. Hannah shakily shook her head; she knew what she saw, this was not a hallucination. She was sure of it. The captain of the Enterprise turned back and nodded with assurance, still making the faulty assumption that their little room was completely safe.
"Sure…we've got everything. Now how about getting out of here?" The three of them grinned, despite the fact they had seen the moving cadavers of the crew. Terror still rang in her heart, and she still trusted her instincts. As she began to hop off the table, a sharp pang fell across her skull. Her legs twisted, and buckled as her body turned into naught but mush. Something warm drew itself across her front lip. And her stomach suddenly felt like it had been displaced somewhere else in her body. She bit back the instinct to retch as a familiar scream erupted behind them. The engineer quickly pulled herself upwards, almost wanting to scream back in vengeance. Yet she felt too ill to do so, as an ill-fated arm reached out blindly, knocking McCoy to the ground. She briefly remembered the captain screaming something, as Chekov promptly grabbed her hand. In her delirious state, she noted other than the crushing pressure of the young ensign's grip, that it was somewhat large, for her little hands to sink into, and strangely cool, and surprisingly soft, compared to her calloused ones. Her stomach hitched quickly at the realization that they were holding hands, and that he was rescuing her. Sure, she didn't really see herself as a damsel in distress, but she couldn't really complain at this point.
The next moment she registered she was back in the hallway once more. She swallowed her bile, suddenly realizing that she was being pulled forcibly by the energetic ensign. Worry seemed to sit upon the youth's face like it had done many times before. Her feet unwillingly stumbled after him. Apathy stirred in her heart, wanting to give up and let the heat take over her festering corpse. But not to become one of them. She nearly blinked in surprise as she saw the doctor and the captain ahead of them, almost…magically. Hannah grimaced as soon as Chekov let go of her hand, urging her forward, as they made their dizzying way back through flickering corridors, the darkness catching up with them continually.
"Wait!" escaped from her lips as they undulated forward across the scuffed carpeting. No one really seemed to listen, and a pang of fear rippled in her heart. What if they were to leave her behind? What if even Chekov did? Hannah choked back a sob. No…they couldn't. They came looking for survivors, but they did get information from the ship clearly valued by the federation. Her gait slowed a bit, as a sudden welling of fear took over her heart. She gulped past a lump in her throat. Oh god…please…please don't leave me behind, not here…not like this…
The familiar doorway to the docking bay lay before them, the floor charred with phaser fire. The captain and doctor managed to get past, and Chekov was hurtling after them. A pain in her side flared up as she reached the door. The air suddenly seemed to grow heavy with…she wasn't entirely sure. A smile almost broke across Hannah's face when Chekov turned around, almost seeming to be shaken out of a daze. The ensign's eyes became wide with concern and he started towards her.
Something caught across Hannah's bad ankle, and a scream forced its way out of her lungs. The engineer suddenly registered that she was being pulled back the way she came. Her hands went akimbo and tried to grab anything that might befall her broken trajectory across the hallway. A slippery corner came into her grasp and she held with what little strength resided in her arms. Hazel despairingly searched for blue. A lank form rushing down the hallway towards her sparked a minute flare of hope in her heart.
"Hannah! Hold on!" that same desperation rang clearly in the ensign's voice. She knew that he wanted to make a better impression on…whomever, but she now felt the heartfelt desperation that awoke in him. Something else flared in her heart, yet she was unsure as to what it was.
"Pavel!.Pomogatye…pulzhaltza!!"
Her hands lost their insecure holding. And she slipped back into the gloom. Her heart broke at the heartrending cries that could only come from Chekov.
He crumpled in the flickering hallway. Not only physically, but his heart…He looked down at his hands once again. This was the second time that he let someone slip through his fingers. And he was completely unaware that he had let go of her hand. Maybe it had been too hot, but he registered the blush that crossed her face. It made something inside of him twist pleasingly…but now was not the time to think of such things! What had transpired, he was fairly unsure of. And was still unsure why he failed to pursue her. Something was preventing him of moving forwards…like an invisible crushing wall. He found his feet again. There was still a chance of saving her unlike…He gripped his resolve down quickly as he felt two figures questioningly behind him.
"Chekov…where's Ebonfield?" Blue suddenly enclosed in veils of alabaster at the sound of the doctor's voice. "Did'ja…?"
"Da, Doctor…yes. She's…"
There was an uncomfortable pause in the silence. "How could you just…"
"Gentlemen," The relatively cool voice of the captain intervened "We should be running back about five minutes ago if we hope to catch up to her. Not arguing."
Bones McCoy shook his head and sighed, the fight going out of him almost visibly "I just don't understand. I thought I remembered her calling for help. But why didn't we stop?"
Kirk put a hand behind Bones' back, almost urging him to move forward. "Move"
"…Sure, Jim. Whatever you say…"
Chekov's gaze fell floorward, as he seemed to lag a few paces behind his crewmembers, still crushed with the memory of Spock's mother, watching her signal fall into the singularity that became Vulcan. "Eef anything else has happened to her, do ju think she will surwiwe?"
A reassuring hand patted the ensign's shoulder, blue locking with blue. Chekov was quite surprised that McCoy was comforting him now, after what strange moods he'd been in "If she's survived this long…I'm sure she can go a bit longer. We've just gotta get there as fast as we can, right?"
Something stirred in Chekov as he nodded, realizing it was too soon to give up. She needed them, and now. "Aye, Doctor…" A small smile fettered about his lips as they plunged headlong into the darkness.
WAKE UP.
She heard a groan flood the silence, which she soon found to be her own. Dark shapes. Chains clinking. Water steadily dripping. Why did her arms ache so much?
Perhaps because they were over her head?
Hannah chanced a look skyward, and grunted as her muscles disapproved of their position. Two arms, which she assumed to be hers, were hanging from…cuffs, maybe? Above her head. Yep. Above me. Great. A mad smile almost broke across her face. Things just seemed to get worse and worse that she could just laugh at the unrealistic behavior that was overtaking her body. And where the hell was she?
YOU FIND SOMETHING…AMUSING, DO YOU?
…and where the hell was that voice coming from? Normally she would have been afraid, yet her mind was overtaken with shock. She sniffed briefly; something dripped down her chin. Her visage finally cleared as the familiar black of space filled her eyes. The chairs that lay in ruin behind the helm. Captain Ignatevitch's chair…
"Christ…"
Her eyes scanned the dark as best they could, knees attempting to straighten as best they could. But it was very awkward to stand in that position for too long. A few shapes caught her attention…humanoid shapes. She braced for them to come running at her, yet she found them stationary. Lieutenant Alekseeva and Ensign Petrova, their twisted corpses twined with what appeared to be…vines? Maybe? What tears she had left were suddenly spent, as she gripped the chains above her, her rage echoing off the vaulted walls of the bridge.
"What the fucking hell do you want!?" she screamed, when she found she had enough composure to finally say something "Y…you've got all of us, okay?! We're all dead!...or…zombified! Just fucking stop…please…"
STOPPING? NO. THAT IS NOT AN OPTION.
Hannah's head lifted after momentary silence, not really expecting a response. She had just thought that the voice was…a hallucination. It was really hot in there after all. She tried to stretch her back, but to no avail.
…AND YOU WILL NOT ESCAPE.
"Well…I figured that. I'm just a mite uncomfortable. Chaining someone to the ceiling, perhaps, isn't the best way to treat guests…or should I say hosts…" She attempted to respond with all the venom she could in her voice. A laugh that seemed more like a growl either echoed through her mind or the room, and regrettably, sent chills resounding through her body. She earnestly sucked in another breath, hoping not to find Andrey's corpse on the floor. "So…this is what you do, huh?"
KEEPING THE RUSE OF YOUR COMFORT IS QUITE A JOKE, HANNAH EBONFIELD. IT IS ALSO INCREASINGLY CURIOUS HOW YOU HAVE MANAGED TIME AND TIME AGAIN TO ESCAPE OUR GRASP. THOSE INGENIOUSLY PLACED PHASERS HAVE ONLY KEPT YOU SAFE FOR SO LONG.
The engineer grunted in discomfort, attempting to find a more comfortable position, yet there really was no choice other than just…standing there. An annoyed sigh cut through her body as she looked ceilingwards, since it seemed the most appropriate place. "Alright…you've got me…now what. You gonna turn me into one of them?" She looked at the cadavers of the xenolinguist and the ships' pilot, still attempting to hide the lucid sadness that brimmed the edges of her eyes. Those wonderful times in the canteen, how they would help her horrific Russian, not of course forgetting all of the girl talk…
YOU ARE THE LAST SURVIVING CREWMEMBER ON THE CYGNUS, HANNAH EBONFIELD. YOU HAVE BEEN MARKED, AND WE ALWAYS TAKE CARE OF THOSE THAT HAVE BEEN.
"Oh, sure…" She almost spat. "Sure you take care of them. I can obviously see that…" Another laugh resounded through the hull, as she tugged futilely at her chains.
THE DEPLORABLE DISEASE, WHICH YOU CALL HUMANITY, EVEN HAS TROUBLE OF TAKING CARE OF ITSELF. WHY, THOSE THAT CAME FROM THE ENTERPIRSE HAVEN'T TAKEN YOU WITH THEM, HAVE THEY? A LITTLE MORE EVIDENCE TO PROVE OUR POINT.
The engineer clenched her teeth, and bowed her head. So…so it was true. But how could she believe the empty words from a disembodied voice? That…tried to kill her multiple times. They couldn't just leave her behind, could they? Regardless, they weren't here…either they had left…or they were trying to save her. Or they could have been apprehended by the undead crew. The unrelenting cries from Chekov echoed in the porches of her skull. Her breath hitched, as did her heart. Why did she feel so much for someone that she just freakin' met in the past two hours? It almost disgusted her.
"What do you mean by marked?"
AH…WE THOUGHT YOU MIGHT HAVE CAUGHT ON TO THAT LITTLE BIT SOONER, BUT IT IS SO TYPICAL OF THE HUMAN MIND.
"Ha ha. You're a real comedian, you…" A cough interrupted her thoughts, as ebon droplets hit the floor. Her lungs ached, maybe from being strung up to the ceiling.
WELL, WELL. IT'S HAPPENING SOONER THAN ORIGINALLY EXPECTED. THEN THERE IS A NO MORE RIPE TIME THAN TO DO IT NOW.
"Wha…?" Hannah braced herself in the darkness, seeing the cadavers of her friends and crewmates, their last moments twisted in agony. The fear returned once more, crystal cold jaws clamping down whatever she needed to get out. Something moved. Not one of them…a branch? Something brushed her arm from behind, she jumped, now quite certain that she had to get out of their now. Struggling, Hannah's affirmation was now complete. It was, indeed a branch, yet it seemed to have more fluidity to it. It brushed her arm once more and her breath hitched. What little strength she had, she tried desperately to pull herself from the imprisonment of the ceiling.
WE NOW GLADLY ACCEPT YOU INTO OUR RANKS, EBONFIELD…
As the branch went in for a third pass, something extended, a sapling, young and green. It brushed against her wrist, yet continually applied more pressure. Eventually it broke the skin of her wrist and began rapidly spreading. A ragged scream fled from her throat as she continued to struggle, trying to escape the pain as burning white blossoms pealed in her head. She watched the youthful green spread through her arm, terrified. She remembered perhaps saying a few things, but wasn't too sure of what.
Another scream joined hers and she felt the tension on the chain snap as she careened to the ground. Shock pulsated her body, the thing in her arm still growing, but slowly as its life source was now cut off. However much pain she experienced, Hannah managed to gain control again. Still sensing danger, she attempted to inch away using her elbows and hips, as her wrists were still bound. Yet hands were on her in an instant. A quick blush flickering across her face reminded her of whose hands they were. Chekov pulled the chains away, and quickly helped her up by her bad wrist. He pulled away in confusion at the unfamiliar texture, but back to her again when he saw her eyes wide with pain, which resulted in her crumpling back to the floor. The ensign caught her, by the waist as she crumpled into his form. "Let's get out of here, Hannah." She nodded as she found her legs again, unaware until now of the phaser fire erupting about them.
She didn't remember much other than running down hallways, which she was rather unsure of how she managed it, a lot of urging from Chekov (she yelled back a few times in Russian), entering the docking bay once more, finding solace in a shuttle. She partially remembered before succumbing to the familiar folds of darkness Chekov earnestly looking over McCoy's shoulder as the venerable doctor tended to her. The threadbare tendrils of a smile peaked at her lips as she fell into the welcoming embrace of unconsciousness.
Peace. Serenity. She was finally safe. The engineer was finally able to leave the horrific entity of The Cygnus. Yet something echoed in the back of her mind. The handsome, comforting face of the Uzbek flitted in her visage. And the haunting voice that now was the Cygnus chilled the engineer, and she was rather unsure that she ever heard them.
THOUGH YOU MAY LEAVE…YOU WILL NEVER ESCAPE OUR CALL.
AN: Okay…so that only took like…twelve and a half years, right? Well, I'm now on break, and will hopefully finish this thing before I leave. And did I mention I've got a sequel in the works? Or was that not obvious enough? And maybe it was also kind of obvious that I just wanted to finish this chapter. Sure it could be better…but…argh…trying to get through finals was a bitch, and I really wanted to work on it. Anyway. This is dragging on for forever.