Star Trek: Theurgy

When he opened his eyes, nothing was where it should be. The floor stretched vertically, a viscous brown substance climbing upward, creating whimsical creeks around blue alien flowers.  Bila didn't recognise those flowers, but he knew that they didn't grow in Trill. He doubted they would grow up in Bajor, but his knowledge of his home planet was rather limited. The flowers were scattered around the floor-wall, as if they grew in the slits of the floorplate, but in a way totally improper of any plant that he knew, joined by a string. It was then that he realized that the ground was where it should be: it was he who was not in the position he should be and was lying face down on the floor, one of the cheeks flattened against the brown stain that stretched slowly around of his head.


Beyond the flowers, a jumble of twisted duranium prevented him from seeing much further. Idly, he found it curious that except for the brown spot, everything was dyed a bright green hue. The chemist tried to move his head, but a burst of pain prevented him from moving to much. Carefully, he brought one of his hands to his cheek that was not squashed against the bulkplates. He found it mysteriously hairless, the wild stubble that usually covered it, absent. He traced his profile with his long fingers and found that, except for the absence of one of the scales on his browridge, there was nothing that could cause the pain he had felt. He stood still, numbed in the same position in which he had awakened, trying to know what had happened.


The next thing his senses detected was the strong smell that clung to everything around him. A sweet smell, like grilled meat, interspersed with an unknown metallic aftertaste, and something he did not know how to define, something bitter and ... "electric" that irritated the back of his throat. Bila coughed, choked and, as he did so, he lifted his cheek from the floor. He immediately felt intense pain from the cheekbone to the jaw, and a cold sensation in the tongue. With growing horror, he put his hand to that part of his face that he had just recovered and found that half of his cheek had disappeared. He could feel the air through the burned hole under his cheekbone every time he breathed. He continued to feel his face, his temples, his skull. Half of his face had disappeared, or it had become a twisted and painful mess.


He panicked and tried to sit up, but his legs didn't support him. He was trapped. Injured. And surrounded by ... by ... by what looked like a plasma fire. "HELP!" He tried to scream, but his lips only let out a plaintive yelp. This time, the Prophets had turned their backs on him. He was doomed.

"Help!" The scientist tried to scream, but only a tiny voice left his throat. The next thing that came out of his mouth was a choke cough, the smoke from the plasma fire was filling his little shelter, threatening to suffocate him. That would happen if the greenish fire didn't kill him before. He crawled across the floor until he reached the wall of debris that blocked his path and tried to push away the bits of twisted duranium, the cables, the blackened, shapeless pieces he couldn't identify. But he didn't have enough strength, his whole body was a knot of pain. His hands were bleeding. His head was spinning. He surely was going to die there.

He leaned against the rubble, gasping like a fish out of the water, his wounded cheek producing a hissing sound every time he inhaled. He hugged himself, his hands aching over his chest. Under his right hand, he felt something soft between the burned and torn remnants of what had been his uniform. And possibly also his skin. Bila tilted his head until his chin touched his chest. He raised his hand and, under the blackened palm, he discovered a blue flower. Intact. A soft chuckle shaked his chest. He had brought flowers to his own funeral. Certainly, the Prophets appreciated the irony.

Cradling the small replicated plant against his ribs with one hand, the hybrid took another his hand to the earring of his right ear. The ornament tinkled musically, an incongruous sound between the roar of the flames and his elaborate breathing. With his breath becoming scarcer, he raised a prayer to the Prophets. One last orison. He begged them to give him one more chance, just one more, to survive. To allow him find his place in that crazed galaxy. To contribute to the greater good. His mind, half numb with pain and smoke inhalation, drifted among his memories, among the people he would miss, his mother, his few friends, he reveled in all the mistakes he had made, with everything that he never do. He regretted for the last time that he couldn't never find his father.

Resigned to inevitability, he prayed again, to be able to meet with the Prophets in the afterlife. A fatalistic peace seized his mind. What had to happen, would happen. He removed his hand from his earring and crossed it over the other, protecting the blue flower. "Help ..." he whispered with his last strength. A last chance. The eyelids weighed on him. His breathing was getting harder and harder. But he was not afraid anymore. He accepted his destiny ....



.....




"Hello? Is there anyone there? " A feminine voice, muffled by the wall of debris, came to him. Impossible. A fantasy of his dying brain. Their neurons screaming one last time as they died from lack of oxygen. A few last fireworks before fading in the dark. "HELLO?" The voice shouted again, closer. A real voice, a voice adorned with anguish, doubt, hope. Of humanoid emotions. A real voice. A rubble fell at his side, a small hole opened a few inches from his head, letting in a breath of air. The scientist's lungs were suddenly filled, like a drifter who finds water in the desert. "Here! I'm here!" He shouted with all the voice he had left, turning until his face was level with the hole. On the other side, a dark eye, without an iris, looked at him. "I'm Lieutenant Izar," the hybrid coughed. "I'm wounded, I'm cornered by a plasma fire. Please, please, help me" All the desperation he had managed to control overflowed in those moments. Without thinking, he ran a hand through the newly opened hole until he reached the other side, trying to reach the woman, that ray of hope that had suddenly appeared.

The blaring claxons of Red Alert as people rushed through the corridors. Kythalie had to get to her designated position. A pulse rifle at the ready as the group in front of her was making haste to get to the area they needed to guard. An engineer bumped into her, more or less crashed into her as the ship shook. It brought Kythalie down to the floor as the engineer muttered an apology before running off. She had lost the rest of her group and she cursed as she got back on her feet and was about to grab momentum to make a sprint for it.

Yet she saw it out of the corner of her eye. The collapsed corridor where undoubtedly people were running through. Like ants running through their fortress, scrambling for their tasks. With the corridor shut off, it wouldn't be a surprise if nobody checked it for survivors as they were consumed with searching for another way, to get as fast as they could to their trivial tasks.

Kythalie cursed as she walked into the corridor. She could smell the scent of fire, plasma fire to be exact. Great... "Hello? is anyone there?" she called out before she tapped her combadge "Kythalie to Sec Ops. I have a collapsed corridor on deck 2. I'm no-" she stopped as she heard a reply.

'No way, someone is underneath that mess?!'

"Hello?" she shouted again as she began to move some panels and rubble before as the person introduced hismelf.

"Here! I'm here!"I'm Lieutenant Izar," the hybrid coughed "I'm wounded, I'm cornered by a plasma fire. Please, please, help me"

She could see his eyes, just as the plasma fire seemed to rage behind him "Hold on." she replied as she tapped her badge again. Calling for help, medical and Ops to help her out. Yet her request was placed on hold and she cursed lightly. She could risk getting him out, yet there was no telling how unstable the debris field was. Not to mention how fast the plasma fire was burning closer to the man called Izar.

She was trying to think what they taught her about plasma fires, was there a conduit she could open up and use to stop it? Fire suppression systems?

Suddenly though a hand stuck through the debris. Half charred, smelling crisped yet covered in blood. She could notice the ash and bones through the skin and she swallowed as it was a sort of sign that the man didn't have time for her to think. She swallowed as she began to move more of the debris panels aside "Hang tight... Keep talking to me lieutenant. My name is Petty Officer Kythalie Benmual."

Bila panicked when he felt the woman on the other side of the debris disappear, his heart beating fast in his chest and his breathing even more agitated than before. However, soon the sound of metal crawling on metal and the voice of the petty officer came to him. "Hang tight ... Keep talking to me lieutenant. My name is Petty Officer Kythalie Benmual." she said over the roar of the flames. "Bila" replied him. "Lieutenant Junior Grade Izar Bila. I'm chemist, graduated in the Trill Science Ministry." It was absurd to recite all his resume to the woman who was trying to get him out of there, but the words had come to his mouth without hardly thinking about them. He knew that Benmual wanted him to continue talking to keep him conscious, to know the situation in his small and dwindling refuge. With extreme care, the hybrid returned his hand to his side of the wall and balled himself against the insurmountable barrier. Despite the closeness of the fire, he felt cold, he was almost freeze. He closed his eyes and tried to control the tremors that shook him for a moment.

"I was on my way to the Bridge when one of the aft panels exploded. An EPS conduit overloaded, I guess. The hallway has collapsed as far as my eye can see but I'm laying in a more or less stable area, a section of about 5 meters of corridor." The chemist swallowed painfully, the explanation streeched the tender skin of his wounded cheek. He tried to control his breathing for a minute before he could continue speaking. "Across the aisle there is an exploded bulkplate, the flames extend from there to where I am. I guess it's the point of origin of the collapse. The blood trail in the floorplates indicates that I somehow drag myself from there to where I am before i lost consciousness. I don't know how long I've been unconscious. Maybe it was only a few seconds. Maybe I've been here for hours, I'm not sure, it's all very confusing. I tried to stand up but my legs don't work as they must... I'm so cold ... "

His head bobbled several seconds, his neck unable to keep it firm. He rested his head against the rubble, his nose next to the small hole that allowed air to enter the collapsed area. He shifted slightly and close his eyes again. Just a little rest, that was all that he needed. A small avalanche caused him to open his eyelids again, when his body leaned outwards, while the rubble settled again. The hole that communicated with Benmual had practically disappeared, the entrance of oxygen and the company that supposed the woman practically disappeared. Fear returned to seize Bila, brightened him up. "Kythalie, Kythalie are you still there? Please, please, don't leave me alone!!!" He shouted as loud as he could, hitting the wall with his bloodied fists.

He stuck his ear to the tiny hole that connected him to the other side of the starship. The woman's voice sounded muttered by the rubble, but still she was still there. He couldn't understand the words, but she was still there. She was still there. The chemist got up slightly and tried to enlarge the hole again. His burned hands were clumsy, and he had to try several times each movement before he managed to do it but little by little he removed some of the twisted pieces of duranium in front of him, throwing the charred remains against the other side of the aisle. "I'm so glad you're still around.  Thanks, thank you very much Kythalie.... What was I saying before? I don't remember it, Prophets know that the lack of oxygen doesn't help to sharpen my wit. I swear I'm a witty guy in other circumstances, I'm not a party monster but I promise that at least I'm an entertaining guy. Hell, before the attack began, I was helping to organize a party. What the hell was it about? A bolian celebration of some kind, all full of weird meat and blue things. In fact I still have some ornament around here, I don't even know why. Maybe just to fuel those flames... Oh Prophets, they are so close... We need to hurry... <shit> I'm gonna die..."

As the science officer simply repeated his name and rank, it seemed like he even added his graduation places "Trill huh? What's it like there?" she asked as she did her best to remove the debris piece by piece without having it collapse on her as well. She had learned in basic training that talking helped to keep people conscious. So she did exactly that.

She listened further to him as he told her where he was heading to and what had happened to him on his way over there. He managed to give her some detailed information about the situation he was in as well as the type of materials that she'd possibly find on her way to him. He mentioned he was cold and that he couldn't walk properly. She wasn't sure what she was going to find on the other side...

"The attack has been ongoing for like... I don't know forty minutes tops?" she informed him "So I don't think it've been hours yet." she tried to encourage him. As she removed the last bit of plating the rubble began to shift as the ship took another hit. Her eyes shifted over the debris as it began to move "No... Nonono..." she hissed as the entire structure began to move and basically forced her to start over.She coughed lightly at the vile stench being released as the rubble had moved, charred meat and hydraulic fluids.

She could hear his faint shouts from underneath the rubble and she wiped some sweat from her brow as she was starting to get fed up with the careful digging. She looked at her rifle and grabbed it as she fiddled with the settings. She could hear him scream to not leave him alone and she moved closer again to the debris "Don't worry, I'll get you out!" she shouted into the debris.

She trained her rifle as the rubble began to move once more "Stand back! Or stay clear. I'm going to punch a hole in it!" she warned him yet just before she pulled the trigger she saw the wounded hands of the man push some debris out. She lowered her rifle as she moved closer to the hole and tried to peek in to check on him. In the meantime he showered her with gratitude. The gratitude quickly changed to panic as he blabbered and became more grim about his situation.

"Hey, Bila... I need you to stand out of the way. Away from the hole. I'm going to blast a hole through it and drag you out before the entire thing collapses or you get turned into a meal for cannibals or something." she spoke up, trying to override his sensation of sheer panic. She needed to work quickly as she knew she was probably needed elsewhere too. "Tell you what. When you're out of this mess, you get to throw me a party or something or show me just what kind of a guy you are in different circumstances."

She raised her rifle once more "Let me know when you're ready for it."

The chemist nodded in front of the hole for the last time, not wanting to turn away at all that window to salvation that represented the crack in the rubble wall. But time ran against them, and every second of hesitation meant getting himself a little closer to death. So he pulled himself away from the wall and crawled on his hands and... well, he couldn't say knees, because while the right one responded to his commands (throwing a burst of pain throughout his body as revenge every time he supported his weight on it), he hardly felt anything from the left hip to the foot of that side of his body. Pretending that it collaborated with any movement was a real nonsense. After a time that seemed like an eternity, he sat on a corner of the wall, his right side against the bulkheads, while he tried to protect his right side as best as he could with one of the remains he had previously moved. "On position!" He shouted with all the voice he was able to muster, to give the signal of attack to Kyth.

However, there was something of all that plan that bugged him. He was not sure what it was,  but the pain, dizziness and lack of oxygen didn't allow him to think clearly. The lack of oxygen. THE OXYGEN SHORTAGE. "WA ... WAIT A MINUTE, DO NOT ... !!!!" Too late. The sound of a phaser at full power resonated in his corridor section, followed by the sound of part of the rubble wall disintegrating. The hiss of the air filling the space occupied by the debriss and the almost-consumed atmosphere of his refuge. And the thunderous roar of the plasma flames, fueled by that puff of fuel when they threatened to be extinguished by the lack of oxygen. The fire took on gargantuan proportions, lit all around with its eerie green tint, eclipsing even the crimson of the red alert.

"<Fuck!>" The hybrid growled using the language of his unknown father. Bila rarely used the Cardassian language, but it had few rivals when it came to swearing. "<FuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuck>" he continued grumbling as he pushed the rubble away from him and crawled through the huge gap that the PO had just created. When half of his body had emerged through the hole, the security woman's slender but strong hands pulled his wrists away from the rubble and the pertinacious flames. The chemist was dragged in such a way a few meters, his teeth screeching because of the pain that the sudden movement caused him.

Finally, Kythalie released him in what the hybrid assumed was a safe place, and Bila rolled on his back, gasping like a fish out of the water, breathing fully at last. He closed his eyes, unable to look at himself. He'd seen glimpses of his injuries while she was dragging him. The left half of his body was totally charred, skin and uniform burned indistinguishable from each other. White bones peeked through the burned muscles at several points, just as his teeth could be seen through the hole in his cheek. Every time he moved, some of the blackened cracks in his body opened, oozing brown blood. Here and there some pieces of duranium shrapnel stood out from his battered flesh. However, the right half of his body was surprisingly intact, the uniform slightly torn and smudged, the dark disheveled curls, the bajoran earring shining silver in his lobe. Despite this, his right knee was swollen and twisted at an unnatural angle, clearly dislocated. Being an hybrid, Bila had always felt that he was missing a half to be completely or bajoran or cardassian. In those moments he was barely half of a person.

"I promise you that I look better off-duty. I'm smoldering in trill formal attire " he joked with a tiny voice, while the shock spasms of seeing himself in such a way began to seize his full body. His right hand clung to the uniform of the petty officer, preventing her from leaving his side. "I'm also a <fucking> amaizing chef ... it's like chemistry, but even a child can do it. I'll invite you to dinner, I'm sure I'll rock your socks off. No barbecue, that's for sure, but I'll make something finger-licking good. I'll make you laugh your head off, best night in your life, I swear. Just put my sorry ass body in the sickbay before I die, please. I …" The hybrid had more flattery comments ready, but a coughing fit interrupted him. When he could get rid off it, he was exhausted, his head was spinning and his neck seemed not to be able to hold it. It was freezing cold, so much that he could hardly feel anything else, not even pain. He clutched with all the strength he had left the handful of golden uniform he held, the only thing that separated him from a certain death.

He was exhausted. The eyelids weighed him like anvils. But he knew that if he slipped into the darkness of unconsciousness he would most likely never wake up. But it was so difficult. His body loosened, his battered muscles unable to hold him any longer. Even so his eyes stayed open looking at Kythalie, the white of his eyes contrasting terribly against the blackened skin, crazed like those of a trapped animal.

It was then that a mechanical voice echoed across the hall, above the roar of the flames. "We are the Borg. Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own. Resistance is futile. "

The warning he had shouted had come to late as the petty officer had squeezed the trigger of her rifle just as the muffled shouts came through The powerful blast of the rifle caused the heaviest and toughest rubble to give way, yet the true power of it seemed to be coming from within as it cascaded into an explosion on the inside as piece of debris flung around Kythalie as she had to shield her eyes and crouched a little to prevent getting hit full on

When she looked back up she could see the green light emitting from the debris field she had shot into and she could only conclude that the plasma fires were rather intense and burning wildly Her task at hand though was the scientist as she dropped the rifle on the floor and lunged forwards. She could feel a sting in her lower abdomen and legs as she had sprinted forward, yet gave little thought about it as she coughed a little as the fire took the air away rapidly.

The scientist however had seemed to force his own way out as well as she caught him cursing. He looked in a bad shape, though that could've been putting it lightly as she dragged him back to where she had been when taking the shot. She looked him over and noticed the various states of burn wounds over his body. He was gasping for air and Kythalie rubbed through her hair as she tried to recollect what first aid training would have her do. Yet to be fair, no first aid training prepared her for these kind of injuries. She had seen her share of war wounds on Betazed, from charring to dismemberment, yet there it was easy. Call for a medic and fight on. Here she had to take care of this person as there were people rushing about as the alert claxon kept resounding.

As he started to move a little, she could see his charred flesh crack and blood began to leak out of him as duranium pieces were sticking out of him. She was tempted to snatch them out yet withheld from doing so "Right, more bleeding otherwise..." she scolded to herself "PO Benmual to sickbay, I have a seriously injured crewman at my position. Severe burn wounds and foreign objects stuck in him. I need him to be beamed to Sickbay." A chirp simply provided the acknowledgment of her request as she looked at Izar "Don't worry lieutenant, they'll beam you out in no time."

Instead the man began to joke and boast about his culinary skills. The petty officer smiled as she shook her head, he was begging her to get to sickbay and she would carry him all the way there, yet it would only cause him to bleed more and undoubtedly bring a whole lot more pain to him. Of course, that's when the ominous voice began to screech through the speakers.

"We are the Borg. Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own. Resistance is futile. "

Kythalie looked up as she cursed and grabbed her rifle "Calm down lieutenant Bila. Every-" the ship shook as the Borg offensive was pushed up a notch. The plasma fire burning vibrantly now as the oxygen line was caught up by the hungry fire. She could see Izar's body beginning to shine bright as the transport beam began to crystallize around him. She smiled at him as time began to move slowly, it seemed to take forever to get the man beamed out. She heard the slow blast of the oxygen explosion as her eyes slowly darted up to the debris field. A large piece of plating flung towards her and Izar, she quickly braced Izar by laying herself over him. By doing so, the Bajoran Cardie got a bit of the swell of her breast into the unscathed part of his face.

The transport sequence canceled out for some reason and the plating missed them by a hair as it stuck itself on the other side of the corridor. The plasma fire burning ever so brightly now as it took the air of both of them. Kythalie groaned and coughed as she sat up again and knew she had no other option "Come on, we need to get out of here!"

She stood up and pulled him off the ground on his good side, undoubtedly causing for a searing jolt of pain through him. Yet they had no choice, the Borg were here. She had to bring him to Sickbay or to a more suitable safe spot for a site to site transport.

The ship shook violently when the outsidel battle intensified, shaking the deck around them, the plasma fire glowed rabid, consuming everything in its path, getting closer, choking their battered lungs and leaving an electric aftertaste at the bottom of their throats. However, the feeling of lightness that came associated with a transport seized his body, and soon he was surrounded by the golden light that confirmed that his salvation was assured. Izar sighed in relief, at least part of that nightmare was over.

The sound of a distant explosion made him open his eyelids again, only to find the bust of the betazoid brushing his intact cheek. The hybrid hemmed and hawed, several different and opposing ideas fighting for leave his mouth at the same time, until in the end he only managed to utter a meaningless babbling. "Eh, humm, this ... um". The most intelligent discourse of his life. Anyway, the transport sequence canceled out at that moment, and only the reaction of the PO freed them from being impaled in a sharp, flying piece of plating. Kythalie pulled away from him, groaning something that Bila couldn't hear as he continued blinking confusedly on the floor.

The pain brought him back to reality when the sec woman put him on his feet, pulling on his arm. He ran out of air for a second, black and brown spots occupying his whole field of vision for a while. He let out a strangled moan when his weight fell on his right leg, wheezing painfully, but when he tried to shift it to the left, it didn't support his weight. He stumbled and he left himself fell over the woman. Bila was tall and skinny, reflecting his ancestry and a background of poor eating while growing up, but still he was heavier than she was. He could only hope that his legs wouldn't fail him completely and drag both of them to the floor in his fall.

She didn't do things by halves, so in spite of all his groaning, whining and stumbles, she kept dragging them forward, her resolution imperturbable to Bila's eyes. He, on the other hand, was immersed in such a flood of pain that he was barely conscious. His head wobbled unsteady on his neck, until in the end it fell to his left shoulder, unable to hold it any longer. He was only able to take one step out of three, and the rest of the time he merely pushed himself with his right heel, trying to relieve some of Kythalie's effort with little success. The walk was barely better than endless agony.

At a certain moment, his knees failed him and he fell like a dead weight on the shoulder of the betazoid. When he managed to focus his eyes again, not knowing very well why he was looking towards the path they had traveled. The corridor had the unmistakable mark of their passage marked with stains of blood, most of them brown in color and, strangely, some were red. He turned himself around as best he could and faced the PO furrowing his right browridge with concern. "You're bleeding too" He huffed between surprised and scared. However, he couldn't elaborate his assertion as phaser shots resounded further down the corridor.

They both stopped, turning their heads in unison only to see how a retreating security team appeared in the t-junction, shooting something out of their visual range. It didn't need to be a genius to know what they were facing. Bila gathered forces from where there was not, and went back forward, faster this time, his heart beating out in his throat, knowing they were running of time. "There has to be a turbolift closer to the prow, you keep calling the sickbay, I've lost my combadge" He gurgled. He really wanted to believe that he had lost it in the explosion, because the other option was that it was part of the black jumble that represented half of his person. For a moment, faced with the threat of the Borg approaching he'd worked on a adrenaline burst which had allowed him to advance with long strides, ignoring the pain in his body. But that didn't last long, and in one of his steps, the pain suddenly returned. He felt himself faint, struggled with all his strength to block the pain and keep going, for stiffening his muscles and keeping his body erect. Just get to the turbolift and try to reach safety. "Left," he whispered with the last thread of will as his body fell on the bulkplates, unable to stand on its own any longer.

Having raised both of them to their feet, Kythalie had used the phaser rifle as added support. Using it more like a crutch than a weapon. Despite the skinny look of the hybrid Cardassian/Bajoran, the man weighed as Kythalie struggled to keep him up. Nomally though, she wouldn't have had a problem with this. Basic training ensured that you could carry a wounded crewman for quite a distance. She looked down at the minor lacerations she had sustained by the flying debris. A gash at her thigh and a gash around her abdomen were probably the main reasons why she was losing strength. She cursed softly as she saw the blood trickle out.

She had no time to think as she tasted the electric taste of the plasma fires that ventured closer to them. She pushed forward hearing Izar's groan and mild protests as his body wasn't advancing as it was supposed to. "Come on!" she urged him. He was trying, she could tell, yet it wasn't cutting it and he grew heavier by the moment as his cooperation wasn't as desired. He pointed out that she was bleeding as well and she smiled faintly "Yeah, I figured, I couldn't let you be the only one to stain the floor." she joked a little as the pain began to sear through her wounds. The adrenaline starting to wear off quicker than anticipated as she was bleeding rather seriously.

On top of that the fire no longer seemed to be their only problem. Phaser fire making both Kythalie and Izar look at the T-junction. They both knew what it meant and Izar seemed especially motivated by it as he found his second breath. They moved a good few meters ahead as Izar told her to keep trying to get a hold of Sickbay. Which was easier said than done considering she was holding him up and using the phaser rifle as support. He had seemingly lost his combadge and his talking began to sound more slower "Stay with me Izar." she warned him, yet it was inevitably too late when he simply lost consciousness and his full body became dead weight.

It caused them to collapse on the floor all together as Kythalie let out a painful yelp. She looked at the lieutenant that was out cold and she looked at her injuries as she looked around her. 'Turbolifts... Who the fuck made them so distant?' She thought to herself as she dragged herself to the corner of the corridor, grabbing Izar by the collar of his uniform to drag him along. He had managed to get out a direction as she turned left and there it was, a working lift!

She bit on her teeth, jaws clenching as she hoisted him closer and closer to the lift. They had another two meters to go when the first drone came into sight. Kythalie looked in horror at it as she made her hold on Izar turn into a clenched fist. The adrenaline soared through her body once more as she crawled backwards faster, the drone closing in on them rapidly. The doors opened and she got Izar in first, shoving him further in with her back against his. She raised her rifle and fire away at the drone wildly to keep it at bay. "Sickbay! Now!" she shouted at the lift before it chirped. The doors closed just in front of the drone and the last shot was fired into the turbolift door. Afraid that she had damaged the lift, she waited an agonizing couple of seconds before the lift began to move to the desired destination.

Safety at last...

Bila opened his eyes suddenly feeling the air didn't quite reach his lungs and waved his hands uselessly in front of himself, trying to catch his breath. The pressure in his throat suddenly eased, while voices sounded beyond his field of vision. He didn't understand them. In which language did they speak? Where he was? He felt totally helpless. "<Where I ...?>" He muttered in cardassian before a woman's face appeared in front of him. Her uniform was stained and blackened in some places, the long hair tangled. Her full black eyes looked at him with concern as she said something that his brain was determined not to process. Reassuring words? An order? Bila bowed his head, without looking away from the woman and smiled faintly. His face hurted. But he could trust that woman. I didn't know why. But he did.

More people arrived, hurrily, dressed in medical suits. Was he hurt? He was hurt. She was too. He tried to raise a hand to the woman, but was unable to do so. He tried with the other and it obeyed his commands, clutching the woman's sleeve with a force that seemed impossible in his battered body. The doctors tried to move him, causing him to let out a painful moan and gripped the woman even more tightly. Kythalie. His battered brain flashed an instant with her name. "Kyth ..." he whispered through cracked lips. "<Do not leave me>, stay with me". He whispered. He felt faint again. But his hand remained wrapped around his savior's wrist.