Kate Ford lay on the cold, metallic floor of the Juggernaut, gasping as waves of pain radiated from her shattered sternum.
Each breath was a jagged knife, tearing through her chest with brutal efficiency. The Engineer's massive handprint still burned on her skin, a cruel reminder of the force that had brought her to this point.
With haemorrhage guaranteeing her imminent death, her vision blurred and darkness threatened to engulf her. Kate's thoughts were distracted somehow.
What would the crew of the Prometheus do now, in the aftermath of the harrowing events in this desolate place?
And what of Meredith Vickers Weyland?
Horrible as it looked, Kate can't help but respect Weyland's decisiveness, even though she was sorry about Holloway's tragic demise.
Yet, shamefully, a swift relief always followed, knowing she was the one being protected under Weyland's wings (despite her lack of benevolence).
After all, self-preservation and empathy were often compatible in human nature.
Then there was Elizabeth Shaw.
Barely holding herself together after a caesarean, Shaw had been torn away to confront the Engineer. A mere bolt at the onset of the Engineer's massacre.
Perhaps Shaw's tenacity would prevail once more, leading her to safety against insurmountable odds.
And David. Was he truly dead, or did he, like her, grapple with the unyielding ennui of these final moments?
The actual message exchanged between David and the alien remains the real question she sincerely seeks an answer to.
It was irreparable that the ageing autocrat had lost his control over his subjects. She doubted whether the master's message had been accurately conveyed in the alien language.
Acting innocent, yet impudent, like a child oblivious to social cues, David ruthlessly exploited human weaknesses to provoke emotional reactions from the crew members, all to satisfy his perverse appetite.
"I'm not here to make friends, just to get paid." Fifield's quote rang at the back of her foggy head.
Strange how, in the face of death, her mind grasped onto these questions, seeking answers even as her body screamed for mercy.
Perhaps it was a futile attempt to find some semblance of dignity in her last moments, a feeble grasp at control in the face of overwhelming despair.
With a final, rasping breath, Kate's consciousness ebbed, surrendering to the consuming darkness.
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"Dr. Ford."
Echoes in the air, repeated with increasing urgency. The hazy fog of unconsciousness lifted gradually, and Kate's senses awakened to dim surroundings.
She was lying on the floor. Back on Prometheus.
Instinctively, she raised a hand to her throbbing temple, feeling the cool metal floor beneath her fingertips.
"Here, Dr. Ford. Let me help you up." A dark presence materialised beside her, his form a steady anchor in the swirling uncertainty.
David? A wave of disbelief washed over her. There he stood, unharmed, his head still firmly attached to his body—the very same head she had witnessed being ripped off by the Engineer.
"Perhaps the sequelae of concussion is causing disorientation. It's not uncommon." David's voice was soothing, yet his expression remained unreadable, his head tilted slightly as he observed her.
Take you back to cryo-deck, go to bed-e-byes.
A careless mistake that led to an unforeseeable charge orchestrated by Elizabeth Shaw.
The gentle hum of the thermostat mixed with the rhythmic beeping of the monitors, creating a strangely calming background noise. The room felt warm, almost inviting, but a shiver ran down her spine, her skin prickling with unease.
"Where is Dr. Shaw?" she finally managed to say, her mind still murky with confusion.
"Dr. Shaw is resting in her quarters," David replied, his concern evident in his tone. "She is unharmed."
Kate nodded slowly, taking off her glove before rubbing her numb cheek.
"By the way, Mr Weyland needs your presence on our expedition." David stood back after reading her need for more space.
She had been here before.Déjà vu hit her like a tidal wave, almost making her nauseous. She forced herself to swallow the bile rising in her throat.
"Dr Ford?"
Her breath hitched at his piercing curiosity.
A droop formed at the corner of her mouth mirroring her passive facade as she met his gaze. "Yes?"
Their eyes locked in a silent exchange, each grappling with their own uncertainties. Eventually, David looked away, conceding the point.
"Pardon me, the crew will disembark in twenty," he reminded before leaving
Alone once more, Kate allowed herself a moment of respite before the impending mission. She stood before the mirrored cabinet, studying her reflection with a mixture of chaos and madness.
Android. Clone. Predestination—Her mind raced through possibilities that could explain this inexplicable situation. Each is more improbable than the last.
The sight of her own bloodied nose served as a stark reminder of her humanity, a reassurance that she was not merely an android in Weyland's grand design.
A splash of cool water revived her senses, grounding her in the present moment. As she stared into her own eyes, she pondered if she should back out at the last minute.
No solid excuse to back up her following absence though.
The enigma surrounding her existence loomed large, casting a shadow over her every decision.
Think about the paycheck. She sighed.
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Fuck paycheck.Struggling against the weight of her helmet, she examined the dent across her chest. It felt hollow under her fingertips, a reminder of her vulnerability during the alien's attack.
She got herself killed. Again.
Even in her attempts to escape, death caught up with her. The Engineer was too fast, and she was too slow.
Darkness closed in around her, muffling the sounds of the world.
But then, like a bolt of lightning, consciousness shattered the darkness. With a gasp, Kate jolted back to awareness, her senses sharpening with sudden clarity.
The sliding door hissed open, revealing David standing in the doorway, surprise and concern written on his face.
"Dr. Ford, you're awake," David said, his voice tinged with disbelief.
"David," Turning to face him, Kate replied, her voice trembling, "you're here for Mr. Weyland."
A flicker of uncertainty crossed David's features. "Yes..." he trailed off, confusion evident.
It was at this moment she knew she fucked up.
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Kate knew she had to avoid the alien vessel at all costs.
Hours passed, and the virus began to take hold. Her body ached, and fever wracked her frame, rendering her bedridden.
It was not lethal, but it would incapacitate her sufficiently to be excluded from the upcoming expedition.
Her plan had worked; she was deemed too ill to join the team exploring the alien vessel.
Relief washed over her, mingled with the feverish sweat soaking her sheets. She believed she had outsmarted fate.
"Janek, if you don't stop it, there won't be any home to go back to."Her peace was shattered by the voice of Elizabeth Shaw crackling over the comm system, filled with urgency and dread.
A commotion ensued as soon as expected on the bridge, followed by a heated argument, their voices rising above the steady hum of the ship.
Meredith Vickers' footsteps echoed in the corridors, a frantic race for survival.
In her fevered state, Kate could only lie there, the irony bitter on her tongue. Her expertise now turned against herself.
Time stretched, every second an eternity. The ship's alarms blared, and the thrumming engines shifted pitch as the Prometheus altered its course.
Kate's thoughts drifted to her colleagues, brave souls making the ultimate sacrifice. Janek and the crew members who stayed behind, their determination a stark contrast to her own desperate cowardice.
She felt the ship shudder, the final manoeuvre commencing. The collision was imminent.
Kate wondered, in a detached way, what would claim her first—the fever ravaging her body or the impending impact.
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In the end, it was neither.
The ship's violent collision with the alien vessel sent a shockwave through the ship. She was thrown from her bed, her body slamming against the ceiling with bone-crushing force.
Pain exploded in her chest, a brutal echo of her nightmare. Darkness enveloped her, and in her final moments, she understood the true nature of her premonition.
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She stared at the syringe filled with the virus she had engineered, with exceeding precision on its dosage to reduce its potency.
With a deep breath, she injected herself again, feeling the familiar prick of the needle. This time, she would ensure she was incapacitated just enough to avoid the expedition but still mobile enough to escape if necessary.
The fever was there, but she retained enough strength to move. She had managed to strike a delicate balance.
Determined not to be a passive observer this time, Kate mustered her strength and forced herself to stand. Her muscles protested, but she managed to change into an escape suit, the snug fabric a reassuring embrace. She staggered towards the escape pods, her mind focused on survival.
As she reached the pod bay, the ship's alarms began their ominous wail. The chaos on the bridge spilled over the comm system—Vickers and Janek arguing furiously, just as before. Kate ignored the cacophony, her only goal to secure her escape.
She clambered into an escape pod, her movements clumsy but determined. As the door sealed shut, she caught a glimpse of Vickers' astonished face through the viewport.
The surprise in his eyes was almost comical, and for a fleeting moment, Kate allowed herself a smile. She had done it. She had outmanoeuvred fate.
The pod ejected from Prometheus with a jolt, hurtling away from the impending collision. She let out a shuddering breath, tears of relief streaming down her face.
She had survived. She had escaped.The landing impact was rough, jarring her already weakened body. She waited for the door to open, but something was wrong. The pod had landed on its side, the door wedged shut against the ground.
Panic surged through her. She kicked and cursed, desperate to escape. Her efforts were in vain; the door remained stubbornly stuck.
Her breaths came in ragged gasps as she pounded against the metal, her voice hoarse from screaming. She was trapped, a prisoner in her own escape pod.
Outside, the alien vessel loomed closer, a looming spectre of doom. Kate's heart pounded in her chest as she watched helplessly, her cries drowned out by the roar of her own pulse as the shadow of the alien ship descended upon her.
In her final moments, Kate felt a profound sadness wash over her—a bitter irony that even in her escape, she could not outrun destiny. She was too consumed by despair to diagnose the cause of her demise, the truth lost in a haze of regret and longing.
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But fate, it seemed, had other plans.
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In our tale of time-traveling Kate, I'll refer to the original Kate as Kate#1 and subsequent versions as Kate#2, Kate#3, and so on. This will help you track her journey through the twists of time.
Chapter 1: Update Log (Latest to Oldest):
29 May 2024: 1st Publish
25 Jun 2024: 1st Edit (Minor)