Fanworksathon: First Contact
Title: First Contact
Rating: NC-17, just to be safe
Prompt: The Borg makes contact with the Enterprise, either Sulu or Chekov is snatched up and half-assimilated.
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Hi guys, this is my first ever post on lj (and also first real fan fic), so if I screw up I'm really sorry. Also, this is in two parts: the second will be posted later in March, on my second posting day.
----
“Hikaruuu…”
No answer.
“Hikaaaruuu…”
A reply, this time in the form of a gray pillow being smooshed decidedly over the pilot’s head.
“Go away, Pavel,” Hikaru moaned, rolling over onto his front. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“Oh-sewen-hundred, da,” the skinny Russian flopped down onto the bed beside Sulu, moving carefully to straddle his boyfriend’s bare, muscled back. He pushed the regulation sheets further down Sulu’s torso and began pressing slow, delicate kisses along the other man’s spine, leaving a trail of goosebumped flesh as he went. These actions garnered him a sigh of pleasure, and Sulu could feel the smile on Pavel’s face as he moved from backbone to shoulderblade.
“Not that I’m complaining Pav, but, uh, what’s going on?” The American’s head appeared from out under the pillow, his short black hair ruffled in one of the worst cases of bedhead the U.S.S. Enterprise had ever seen.
“Tisk tisk, Hikaru,” Chekov raised his hips slightly, allowing his temporary captive to shift onto his back so he could face the young man. “Have you forgotten what day it is?”
Hikaru’s breath hitched as Pavel lowered himself down onto his groin- and also down onto Sulu’s rather impressive case of morning wood. It certainly wasn’t helping that all the eighteen year-old was wearing was a very tight pair of boxers and an old shirt of Hikaru’s that made him look like something out of a wet dream. His pants, Sulu noticed, were already pooled on the floor. “I-I guess so…?”
The navigator leaned down to place a tender yet promising kiss on the pinned man’s lips, a playful glint in his eyes as he murmured “Happy Birthday, Hikaru.”
Sulu’s eyes widened.
“Oh. Oh! So it is. Well, thanks,” the pilot looked up at the curly-haired wonder and reached out, inviting Pavel to come sink down into the warmth of his bed for a nice long cuddle session. But Pavel, who was in the process of slowly slipping his fingers underneath the waistband of Hikaru’s sleeping pants, seemed to have other plans.
“Um, ah, Pavel, as much as I’d love to see what you’ve got planned, our shift starts at oh-nine-hundred and I still need to finish studying the maps of the sector we’re about to enter, and-” His words turned into several large groans as Chekov took his cock into his mouth. Pavel had only been giving blowjobs for a relatively short period of time, but goddamn if he wasn’t a quick, fantastic study. As Sulu looked down at the blonde head slowly and deliciously bobbing in his lap, he couldn’t help but be reminded of how far Pavel had come since they’d started dating nearly a year ago.
When they’d first had sex, about eight months into their relationship, Pavel had been a virgin. Is not easy being boy genius, Hikaru, he’d explained in an adorable, prideful manner. You do not, as you say, ‘get the ladies.’ Or the men. Too much work all the time. But, you know, it leads to being youngest graduate of Starfleet Academy. Assignment to flagship. And having sex with you. So, I guess I am glad I never was getting of the ladies wery much. Sulu was as well, though he hadn’t admitted it to Pavel.
Their first time had been slow and, unfortunately for the young Russian, rather painful. Sulu had felt like shit afterwards, convinced he’d fucked up and hurt Pavel, who he deeply cared for and who’d trusted him. But, after a night of tight embraces and gentle kisses, the quietly-sniffing Pavel swore that he wanted to keep trying and reassured Hikaru that he’d done nothing wrong. And, much to the surprise of them both, Chekov had blossomed into one of the most privately sexual people Hikaru had ever known. And as his boyfriend took him in down to his base, Sulu was definitely glad they’d tried again.
“I know our shift starts at oh-nine-hundred,” Chekov had come back up, his hand making light, unhurried strokes along Sulu’s erection. “Is why I wake you at oh-sewen-hundred: plenty of time for lots of sex. Then work. Maybe shower in between, if you play cards properly.”
Hikaru was about to correct his figure of speech when once again the Russian’s head lowered and Sulu was all loud, unintelligible noises.
Well then… Happy Birthday to me.
“What’s got you in such a fantastic mood this morning, Mister Sulu?”
Kirk’s question was punctuated with a single raised eyebrow, clearly the influence of his beloved first officer.
“It’s my birthday, Captain,” the pilot responded from his post, growing red as he snuck a glance at his navigator. Chekov, for his part, seemed unfazed, though as he moved in his chair Hikaru could see a flicker of welcome discomfort on his young face. His eyes met Sulu’s and he blushed a little as well, though Hikaru was sure Pavel wore it better than he did. The roses in Pavel’s cheeks and the small, tender smile he sent towards the other man looked like they belonged in a Renaissance painting, not on the bridge of a 23rd Century starship.
It had occurred to him several months ago that he loved Pavel. He’d come back to his quarters one night from a very tough debriefing about a particularly disastrous mission to find Chekov there sleeping, curled up in an armchair. It was obvious that he’d tried to stay up and wait, worried. He was still in his clothes, the lights were on, and he was slouched at an angle that could in no way have been planned for comfort. But since the meeting hadn’t been done until 0300 Sulu didn’t blame him for not staying awake.
He’d watched Pavel for a minute or two, observing how his chest rose and fell with every lightly-snored breath and how his curls, desperately in need of a haircut, drooped in front of his face and caught the light just so. Eventually Hikaru had gently relocated the slumbering boy, gathering him up in his arms and laying him down into the nest of Sulu’s unmade bed. He’d carefully unbuttoned Chekov’s shirt, fingertips trailing down the contours of Pavel’s lithe body as he slid the shirt off. Shoes and socks soon followed, thrown somewhere in the middle of the floor. Changing into his sleep clothes he’d then hunkered down into bed, preparing to sleep on separate sides of the same mattress, afraid of waking the sleeping navigator. But just as he’d finished settling in, a small, warm body moved to spoon with his and an arm tentatively established a hold across Hikaru’s abdomen. But it was the curly head on his chest and the whispered “night, ‘karu” that took Sulu’s heart by storm.
The next day when he woke, curled protectively around Pavel’s body, he realized two things. One, his boyfriend drooling all over his pillow was an incredibly endearing sight, and two, he was irrevocably, undeniably, head-over-heels in love with Pavel Chekov.
So why hadn’t he told him yet? Sulu’s hands stumbled briefly over his controls as the thought floated quietly to the front of his mind. Well, obviously it should be special. Right moment and all that. He didn’t want the declaration to be matter-of-fact, because saying “I love you” was kind of a big deal. At least to Sulu. Especially because he could see things with Pavel getting really serious somewhere down the line. He snuck another glance, awaiting a set of calculations from his partner. He didn’t want to rush things between them or put pressure on Pav, especially since this was his first real committed relationship. But watching Chekov crunch numbers, his lip firmly between his teeth, Sulu felt the hopeless romantic inside of him whisper things to his heart that made it beat double-time.
Sulu was so distracted that he didn’t even notice as the small metallic sphere appeared on screen, seemingly out of nowhere.
We are the Borg, a disembodied, monotone voice immediately began. Lower your shields and surrender your ship. We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. Your culture will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile.
“Raise shields, red alert,” Kirk shouted instead, tapping his communicator. “Mister Scott, I want you to divert all available power to the front shields and weapons systems. Something tells me there isn’t a diplomatic solution to this one.”
A faint “aye sir” could be heard though the captain’s communicator as he barked orders to the rest of the bridge crew. “Records indicate that the Federation has never made contact with these ‘Borg,’ Captain,” Spock offered, his eyes betraying a subtle glint of worry that his voice and his body language were too heavily schooled to show. “Nor, for that matter, has any other species or organization near Federation space. Scans reveal fifty life forms onboard their vessel.”
“For such a small ship they sure talk a big game…”
Sulu tuned out as Kirk began to reply to Spock. He ripped his eyes away from the view screen and the enemy displayed on it, turning his attention towards Pavel. The urge to run to him and hold him was almost overwhelming, especially when he saw the look on the blonde’s face. Chekov was staring intently back at him, knuckles turning white at the force with which he gripped the edge of his console. Sometimes Sulu, not much older, forgot that Pavel, by anyone’s standards, was just barely an adult. He had a head on his shoulders that could do things others only dreamed of, sure. But, as the pilot looked into nervous blue eyes he was reminded of just how young his partner truly was. “Hikaru…” he began, his voice soft and low and scared. “I…”
Several bursts of green energy pulsed forth from the Borg sphere, dispersing across the Enterprise’s shield but violently rocking the ship. Chekov was thrown from his seat, as was Uhrua, and as soon as the ship settled Kirk was screaming for a status report.
“Shields down to fifty percent, Captain!” Scotty relayed over the open comm. link. “I’m diverting power from non-essential systems, but I don’t know if we’ll be intact after too many hits like that.”
“Well I’m not intending on staying around for much longer,” the captain turned to look at Hikaru. “Mister Sulu! Can you outrun them?”
A lump caught in the pilot’s throat as Jim’s voice cut through the ringing in his ears. Could he? He knew nothing about their ship, their warp capability, or how skilled their pilots were. But one look at Pavel’s attempted poker face as he slid back into his chair coated Sulu’s resolve with steel. He had to try.
“I’ll give it my best shot, Captain.”
“Mister Scott,” Kirk growled. “Give everything you’ve got to Sulu.”
“Aye, taking power from life support and diverting all available power to-” the engineer’s voice cut out as the ship was fired upon again. The Enterprise pitched, coolant beginning to vent along the wall by the turbolift. This time the shields were almost gone. They couldn’t risk taking another direct hit like that.
“Pavel,” Sulu cried desperately, staring down at his station in intense concentration as he punched in his half of the math necessary to take them far away from here. Knowing that the fate of the Enterprise was now in his skilled hands left them trembling. “Coordinates for the Xantos Five system!”
He didn’t notice the split-second hush that had settled over the bridge before it exploded into chaos.
The five ashen creatures that had materialized on the bridge were like nothing anyone had ever seen before. A macabre fusion of flesh and machine, these beings, though humanoid, moved more like marionettes than individuals.
“I’m Captain James T. Kirk of the Federation vessel Enterprise, and I demand to know the cause of this blatant act of hostility.”
Kirk was speaking, but based on the jerky, determined movements of the intruders they weren’t listening. Spock, ever ready, fired off a phaser blast that disabled one. The security ensign that tried next wasn’t so lucky. A forcefield surrounded the person she’d aimed at, rendering her phaser blast useless. Two tubes from the hand of one of the Borg penetrated her neck, sending her lifeless down to the floor. A second Borg advanced towards Kirk, who was now busy working on a wall panel that housed phaser rifles behind it.
“Captain!” Spock’s voice was high and tense as he aimed at the Borg, this shot having the same effect the ensign’s had. “Behind you!”
Jim turned just in time to avoid two extended tubes, but not soon enough to avoid tripping down the stairs to his left. He stared up wide-eyed at his attacker as the Borg advanced again, bending over him as he tried to scramble backwards.
With a cry Spock vaulted over his station and collided with the Borg leaning over his commanding officer. In a display of the power of momentum and Vulcan strength they both crashed to the floor, Spock’s face contorted in an expression that none would ever want to see directed at them. The Borg’s tubes extended again but Spock was too quick, snapping the Borg’s arm with determined ferocity. The tubes fell limp as the intruder calmly observed its now-useless appendage, but that didn’t mean it was no longer dangerous. In a split-second its large, metallic arm caught Spock under the jaw, throwing him forcefully against the wall as Kirk began to crawl away, searching for something, anything, that could be used against their aggressors.
What happened next Sulu could only barely process. Kirk’s screamed orders, the Borg that turned and slowly began to walk steadily over to a trembling, working Chekov, the garbled confirmation of other assailants on board… and Pavel. Brilliant, dutiful Pavel, loyal to his pilot up until the moment he was taken. The second Sulu received the coordinates and second set of necessary computations from Chekov’s console was the second an outstretched mechanical arm clamped down around the Russian’s ribcage, dragging him violently from his chair and slamming him headfirst into the floor. Hikaru could feel the sharp, pained shriek Pavel emitted cut him through to the bone. Blood pounded his ears as Sulu watched the mechanical horror begin dragging the horrified, screaming Pavel by his clearly broken arm towards the site at which it had appeared. He started up out of his seat and grabbed a small metal rectangle from beneath his chair, rage and adrenaline flooding his mind. Hikaru’s thumb brushed the button that would unfurl his katana, preparing to accept death if it meant the eighteen year-old could survive this nightmare.
“Sulu,” roared Kirk, positioning himself in front of the pilot’s chair and slamming a wall section up against the head of an advancing Borg. “Get us the fuck out of here! Now!”
The Borg flipped open a panel on its side, beginning to enter what looked like a transport code. Pavel’s eyes went wide in terror and he began struggling harder against his captor, crying out in a garbled mix of Russian and Standard. Blood from a nasty-looking head wound was beginning to clump in his curls and run down his face, a sight the likes of which Sulu never wanted to see again in his entire life. His eyes were locked on Hikaru’s. Sulu stepped forwards, katana activated, but something made him stop: the sound of a gut-wrenching scream as Uhura was impaled by Borg tubes.
He had to save the ship.
Hikaru stared back at Pavel, his eyes watering as he pushed the button of his katana again, retracting it. The look in Chekov’s eyes and the immediate cease of his struggling was enough to make him reconsider his decision, ship be damned.
A screamed “Hikaru!” was the last thing he heard from the man he loved as Pavel was beamed away in a cloud of emerald energy.
“Sulu!” Kirk shouted again, trying to make his way over to Spock, who was lying lifeless on the ground in a pool of his own blood. “Goddamn it!”
Crushing his eyes shut the pilot bent over and initiated the warp sequence, leaving Pavel lightyears behind with no hope of salvation.
----
Well that's part one! I hope you liked it. If you'd like, please feel free to leave con crit.
Rating: NC-17, just to be safe
Prompt: The Borg makes contact with the Enterprise, either Sulu or Chekov is snatched up and half-assimilated.
----
Hi guys, this is my first ever post on lj (and also first real fan fic), so if I screw up I'm really sorry. Also, this is in two parts: the second will be posted later in March, on my second posting day.
----
“Hikaruuu…”
No answer.
“Hikaaaruuu…”
A reply, this time in the form of a gray pillow being smooshed decidedly over the pilot’s head.
“Go away, Pavel,” Hikaru moaned, rolling over onto his front. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“Oh-sewen-hundred, da,” the skinny Russian flopped down onto the bed beside Sulu, moving carefully to straddle his boyfriend’s bare, muscled back. He pushed the regulation sheets further down Sulu’s torso and began pressing slow, delicate kisses along the other man’s spine, leaving a trail of goosebumped flesh as he went. These actions garnered him a sigh of pleasure, and Sulu could feel the smile on Pavel’s face as he moved from backbone to shoulderblade.
“Not that I’m complaining Pav, but, uh, what’s going on?” The American’s head appeared from out under the pillow, his short black hair ruffled in one of the worst cases of bedhead the U.S.S. Enterprise had ever seen.
“Tisk tisk, Hikaru,” Chekov raised his hips slightly, allowing his temporary captive to shift onto his back so he could face the young man. “Have you forgotten what day it is?”
Hikaru’s breath hitched as Pavel lowered himself down onto his groin- and also down onto Sulu’s rather impressive case of morning wood. It certainly wasn’t helping that all the eighteen year-old was wearing was a very tight pair of boxers and an old shirt of Hikaru’s that made him look like something out of a wet dream. His pants, Sulu noticed, were already pooled on the floor. “I-I guess so…?”
The navigator leaned down to place a tender yet promising kiss on the pinned man’s lips, a playful glint in his eyes as he murmured “Happy Birthday, Hikaru.”
Sulu’s eyes widened.
“Oh. Oh! So it is. Well, thanks,” the pilot looked up at the curly-haired wonder and reached out, inviting Pavel to come sink down into the warmth of his bed for a nice long cuddle session. But Pavel, who was in the process of slowly slipping his fingers underneath the waistband of Hikaru’s sleeping pants, seemed to have other plans.
“Um, ah, Pavel, as much as I’d love to see what you’ve got planned, our shift starts at oh-nine-hundred and I still need to finish studying the maps of the sector we’re about to enter, and-” His words turned into several large groans as Chekov took his cock into his mouth. Pavel had only been giving blowjobs for a relatively short period of time, but goddamn if he wasn’t a quick, fantastic study. As Sulu looked down at the blonde head slowly and deliciously bobbing in his lap, he couldn’t help but be reminded of how far Pavel had come since they’d started dating nearly a year ago.
When they’d first had sex, about eight months into their relationship, Pavel had been a virgin. Is not easy being boy genius, Hikaru, he’d explained in an adorable, prideful manner. You do not, as you say, ‘get the ladies.’ Or the men. Too much work all the time. But, you know, it leads to being youngest graduate of Starfleet Academy. Assignment to flagship. And having sex with you. So, I guess I am glad I never was getting of the ladies wery much. Sulu was as well, though he hadn’t admitted it to Pavel.
Their first time had been slow and, unfortunately for the young Russian, rather painful. Sulu had felt like shit afterwards, convinced he’d fucked up and hurt Pavel, who he deeply cared for and who’d trusted him. But, after a night of tight embraces and gentle kisses, the quietly-sniffing Pavel swore that he wanted to keep trying and reassured Hikaru that he’d done nothing wrong. And, much to the surprise of them both, Chekov had blossomed into one of the most privately sexual people Hikaru had ever known. And as his boyfriend took him in down to his base, Sulu was definitely glad they’d tried again.
“I know our shift starts at oh-nine-hundred,” Chekov had come back up, his hand making light, unhurried strokes along Sulu’s erection. “Is why I wake you at oh-sewen-hundred: plenty of time for lots of sex. Then work. Maybe shower in between, if you play cards properly.”
Hikaru was about to correct his figure of speech when once again the Russian’s head lowered and Sulu was all loud, unintelligible noises.
Well then… Happy Birthday to me.
“What’s got you in such a fantastic mood this morning, Mister Sulu?”
Kirk’s question was punctuated with a single raised eyebrow, clearly the influence of his beloved first officer.
“It’s my birthday, Captain,” the pilot responded from his post, growing red as he snuck a glance at his navigator. Chekov, for his part, seemed unfazed, though as he moved in his chair Hikaru could see a flicker of welcome discomfort on his young face. His eyes met Sulu’s and he blushed a little as well, though Hikaru was sure Pavel wore it better than he did. The roses in Pavel’s cheeks and the small, tender smile he sent towards the other man looked like they belonged in a Renaissance painting, not on the bridge of a 23rd Century starship.
It had occurred to him several months ago that he loved Pavel. He’d come back to his quarters one night from a very tough debriefing about a particularly disastrous mission to find Chekov there sleeping, curled up in an armchair. It was obvious that he’d tried to stay up and wait, worried. He was still in his clothes, the lights were on, and he was slouched at an angle that could in no way have been planned for comfort. But since the meeting hadn’t been done until 0300 Sulu didn’t blame him for not staying awake.
He’d watched Pavel for a minute or two, observing how his chest rose and fell with every lightly-snored breath and how his curls, desperately in need of a haircut, drooped in front of his face and caught the light just so. Eventually Hikaru had gently relocated the slumbering boy, gathering him up in his arms and laying him down into the nest of Sulu’s unmade bed. He’d carefully unbuttoned Chekov’s shirt, fingertips trailing down the contours of Pavel’s lithe body as he slid the shirt off. Shoes and socks soon followed, thrown somewhere in the middle of the floor. Changing into his sleep clothes he’d then hunkered down into bed, preparing to sleep on separate sides of the same mattress, afraid of waking the sleeping navigator. But just as he’d finished settling in, a small, warm body moved to spoon with his and an arm tentatively established a hold across Hikaru’s abdomen. But it was the curly head on his chest and the whispered “night, ‘karu” that took Sulu’s heart by storm.
The next day when he woke, curled protectively around Pavel’s body, he realized two things. One, his boyfriend drooling all over his pillow was an incredibly endearing sight, and two, he was irrevocably, undeniably, head-over-heels in love with Pavel Chekov.
So why hadn’t he told him yet? Sulu’s hands stumbled briefly over his controls as the thought floated quietly to the front of his mind. Well, obviously it should be special. Right moment and all that. He didn’t want the declaration to be matter-of-fact, because saying “I love you” was kind of a big deal. At least to Sulu. Especially because he could see things with Pavel getting really serious somewhere down the line. He snuck another glance, awaiting a set of calculations from his partner. He didn’t want to rush things between them or put pressure on Pav, especially since this was his first real committed relationship. But watching Chekov crunch numbers, his lip firmly between his teeth, Sulu felt the hopeless romantic inside of him whisper things to his heart that made it beat double-time.
Sulu was so distracted that he didn’t even notice as the small metallic sphere appeared on screen, seemingly out of nowhere.
We are the Borg, a disembodied, monotone voice immediately began. Lower your shields and surrender your ship. We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. Your culture will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile.
“Raise shields, red alert,” Kirk shouted instead, tapping his communicator. “Mister Scott, I want you to divert all available power to the front shields and weapons systems. Something tells me there isn’t a diplomatic solution to this one.”
A faint “aye sir” could be heard though the captain’s communicator as he barked orders to the rest of the bridge crew. “Records indicate that the Federation has never made contact with these ‘Borg,’ Captain,” Spock offered, his eyes betraying a subtle glint of worry that his voice and his body language were too heavily schooled to show. “Nor, for that matter, has any other species or organization near Federation space. Scans reveal fifty life forms onboard their vessel.”
“For such a small ship they sure talk a big game…”
Sulu tuned out as Kirk began to reply to Spock. He ripped his eyes away from the view screen and the enemy displayed on it, turning his attention towards Pavel. The urge to run to him and hold him was almost overwhelming, especially when he saw the look on the blonde’s face. Chekov was staring intently back at him, knuckles turning white at the force with which he gripped the edge of his console. Sometimes Sulu, not much older, forgot that Pavel, by anyone’s standards, was just barely an adult. He had a head on his shoulders that could do things others only dreamed of, sure. But, as the pilot looked into nervous blue eyes he was reminded of just how young his partner truly was. “Hikaru…” he began, his voice soft and low and scared. “I…”
Several bursts of green energy pulsed forth from the Borg sphere, dispersing across the Enterprise’s shield but violently rocking the ship. Chekov was thrown from his seat, as was Uhrua, and as soon as the ship settled Kirk was screaming for a status report.
“Shields down to fifty percent, Captain!” Scotty relayed over the open comm. link. “I’m diverting power from non-essential systems, but I don’t know if we’ll be intact after too many hits like that.”
“Well I’m not intending on staying around for much longer,” the captain turned to look at Hikaru. “Mister Sulu! Can you outrun them?”
A lump caught in the pilot’s throat as Jim’s voice cut through the ringing in his ears. Could he? He knew nothing about their ship, their warp capability, or how skilled their pilots were. But one look at Pavel’s attempted poker face as he slid back into his chair coated Sulu’s resolve with steel. He had to try.
“I’ll give it my best shot, Captain.”
“Mister Scott,” Kirk growled. “Give everything you’ve got to Sulu.”
“Aye, taking power from life support and diverting all available power to-” the engineer’s voice cut out as the ship was fired upon again. The Enterprise pitched, coolant beginning to vent along the wall by the turbolift. This time the shields were almost gone. They couldn’t risk taking another direct hit like that.
“Pavel,” Sulu cried desperately, staring down at his station in intense concentration as he punched in his half of the math necessary to take them far away from here. Knowing that the fate of the Enterprise was now in his skilled hands left them trembling. “Coordinates for the Xantos Five system!”
He didn’t notice the split-second hush that had settled over the bridge before it exploded into chaos.
The five ashen creatures that had materialized on the bridge were like nothing anyone had ever seen before. A macabre fusion of flesh and machine, these beings, though humanoid, moved more like marionettes than individuals.
“I’m Captain James T. Kirk of the Federation vessel Enterprise, and I demand to know the cause of this blatant act of hostility.”
Kirk was speaking, but based on the jerky, determined movements of the intruders they weren’t listening. Spock, ever ready, fired off a phaser blast that disabled one. The security ensign that tried next wasn’t so lucky. A forcefield surrounded the person she’d aimed at, rendering her phaser blast useless. Two tubes from the hand of one of the Borg penetrated her neck, sending her lifeless down to the floor. A second Borg advanced towards Kirk, who was now busy working on a wall panel that housed phaser rifles behind it.
“Captain!” Spock’s voice was high and tense as he aimed at the Borg, this shot having the same effect the ensign’s had. “Behind you!”
Jim turned just in time to avoid two extended tubes, but not soon enough to avoid tripping down the stairs to his left. He stared up wide-eyed at his attacker as the Borg advanced again, bending over him as he tried to scramble backwards.
With a cry Spock vaulted over his station and collided with the Borg leaning over his commanding officer. In a display of the power of momentum and Vulcan strength they both crashed to the floor, Spock’s face contorted in an expression that none would ever want to see directed at them. The Borg’s tubes extended again but Spock was too quick, snapping the Borg’s arm with determined ferocity. The tubes fell limp as the intruder calmly observed its now-useless appendage, but that didn’t mean it was no longer dangerous. In a split-second its large, metallic arm caught Spock under the jaw, throwing him forcefully against the wall as Kirk began to crawl away, searching for something, anything, that could be used against their aggressors.
What happened next Sulu could only barely process. Kirk’s screamed orders, the Borg that turned and slowly began to walk steadily over to a trembling, working Chekov, the garbled confirmation of other assailants on board… and Pavel. Brilliant, dutiful Pavel, loyal to his pilot up until the moment he was taken. The second Sulu received the coordinates and second set of necessary computations from Chekov’s console was the second an outstretched mechanical arm clamped down around the Russian’s ribcage, dragging him violently from his chair and slamming him headfirst into the floor. Hikaru could feel the sharp, pained shriek Pavel emitted cut him through to the bone. Blood pounded his ears as Sulu watched the mechanical horror begin dragging the horrified, screaming Pavel by his clearly broken arm towards the site at which it had appeared. He started up out of his seat and grabbed a small metal rectangle from beneath his chair, rage and adrenaline flooding his mind. Hikaru’s thumb brushed the button that would unfurl his katana, preparing to accept death if it meant the eighteen year-old could survive this nightmare.
“Sulu,” roared Kirk, positioning himself in front of the pilot’s chair and slamming a wall section up against the head of an advancing Borg. “Get us the fuck out of here! Now!”
The Borg flipped open a panel on its side, beginning to enter what looked like a transport code. Pavel’s eyes went wide in terror and he began struggling harder against his captor, crying out in a garbled mix of Russian and Standard. Blood from a nasty-looking head wound was beginning to clump in his curls and run down his face, a sight the likes of which Sulu never wanted to see again in his entire life. His eyes were locked on Hikaru’s. Sulu stepped forwards, katana activated, but something made him stop: the sound of a gut-wrenching scream as Uhura was impaled by Borg tubes.
He had to save the ship.
Hikaru stared back at Pavel, his eyes watering as he pushed the button of his katana again, retracting it. The look in Chekov’s eyes and the immediate cease of his struggling was enough to make him reconsider his decision, ship be damned.
A screamed “Hikaru!” was the last thing he heard from the man he loved as Pavel was beamed away in a cloud of emerald energy.
“Sulu!” Kirk shouted again, trying to make his way over to Spock, who was lying lifeless on the ground in a pool of his own blood. “Goddamn it!”
Crushing his eyes shut the pilot bent over and initiated the warp sequence, leaving Pavel lightyears behind with no hope of salvation.
----
Well that's part one! I hope you liked it. If you'd like, please feel free to leave con crit.