fateandfortune | Transporter Beam Accidents Do Happen

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Transporter Beam Accidents Do Happen

An anomaly.

Space was full of them, but all of the points of instability no matter how small in the Sol system had been exhaustively catalogued. Grade school children took field trips to collect redundant data on them to analyse over apple juice and animal crackers. Or kelp wafers, or whatever they fed people now. Khan had encountered a few undocumented anomalies in his longer-range scans and tended to avoid them whenever possible in his transporter experiments, but he hadn't even bothered scanning first this time. Why would he? The coordinates he was using were in the path of Earth's orbit, no region of space had been better studied than that one.

There were several distant anomalies in the known galaxy which could warp local space-time into crumpled aluminum foil, but this one didn't have the right energy signature. It wasn't a false reading, even though by all rational standards it should have been. These subspace energy patterns never occurred naturally, not in the vacuum of space. It looked almost like a life-form signature that had been abandoned mid-transport, no stabilizing beam either from point of origin or destination, and somehow hadn't disintegrated in the process.

Well, no sense in ignoring the interesting finding. Ultimately, Khan intended to use transwarp teleportation with living subjects anyway. While he wasn't prepared to start sacrificing lives at this stage, this wasn't his doing. Whatever this creature was, or had been, it essentially didn't exist right now. Its matter was no longer part of any known or theorized parallel universe. It wasn't alive, so rematerializing it in his test chamber wasn't going to kill it no matter what went wrong. He might as well bring the thing in and have a look at it before blasting it back out into the vacuum of space.

After recalibrating his instruments to lock onto life signs, Khan locked onto the signal with far more precision than the instruments currently in wide use could have done. Khan was alone in his workshop with no weapons and he really should have considered calling in a xenobiologist first, but he had no interest whatsoever in expanding the frontiers of shared knowledge for the rabid warhounds of Starfleet. A few more buttons punched and the golden swirls began forming on the platform inside the spherical force field. Khan would have to shut the field off in order for sound waves to cross the distance between them, but right now he should be able to see what was inside well enough to determine if it should be jettisoned immediately. That would definitely be necessary if it turned out to be too large for the containment field, no sense in triggering an explosion of guts all over the sensitive instruments.

Of course, if the life form reassembled correctly and actually possessed senses corresponding the the human visible light range, it would also be able to see him. It would appear at roughly his chest-height on a warm white disc three metres in diameter, the force field bubble completely transparent but hard as glass to the touch. The room was a small deserted hangar built of dark metal, well-lit but almost empty, with nothing else in it but a large desk sized console, a chair, and a dark-haired man with a quiet curiosity. Khan stood up from his console and took a step closer, watching the form take shape out of the whirling photon-emitting spirals.

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That hadn't been at all what she'd meant, but they could get to that later. When he showed her how things worked in a few hours, she could bring it up again. When she understood things a little better, perhaps.

In the meantime. "How sound-proofed are your quarters?" she asked him, wishing she didn't have to bring it up but not at all willing to take chances. "I don't sleep well. Sometimes I- Sometimes I wake up screaming. If there's a chance someone might hear, I'll gag myself before I try to rest."

It wasn't an experience she relished, but it wouldn't be the first time she'd had to do it. The war had pushed them all to their limits, demanded rather extreme measures be taken to ensure their safety. When it had still been the soldiers they'd been hiding from, she'd done it willingly, but she didn't know how things might have changed later when Sentinels were the main force - she'd been captured around that time.

"Very soundproof." He enunciated the words clearly and deliberately, the conviction in his voice related to the fact that she could light off several sticks of dynamite inside and no one on the other side of the door would suspect a thing. And that was all. In Khan's mind, leaving it at that was the most respect he could offer. There was no greater demonstration of understanding, of acceptance of her vulnerabilities and the heroic measures she was clearly accustomed to taking in order to compensate for them. "A left turn next. We're nearly there."

Rogue understood his meaning and was incredibly grateful for it. He didn't protest her suggest or scoff at the idea that she could actually do it. He didn't offer sympathies for her mental state or dull platitudes about how she'd overcome all of this. What he gave her was respect and acceptance, and her opinion of him grew by leaps and bounds with that simple gesture.

She followed as he turned, the movement almost effortless now as she grew accustomed to his pace and way of walking. If they were almost there, then there wasn't much time left, and she still had something she needed to say. Her voice was soft as she told him, "I really do thank you for helping me. I need you to know that, whatever happens, I'm grateful."

This displaced mutant would have to deal with Khan's own... challenging personal eccentricities, soon enough. The least he could do right now was withold that sort troublesome information until it was actually relevant, she had enough work ahead of her just trying to orient to the new environment.

Khan's pace did falter, however, after she spoke. He had turned his head to look at someone he could not see, trying to make sense of a sentiment he could not understand, in a context where he could not think of a practical use for the information. Oh he understood perfectly well the social conventions of politeness, acknowledging the value of someone else's contribution to one's own welfare, all that sort of thing. What didn't make sense was how sincere she seemed to be when speaking words so often unrelated to sincerity.

No, the interruption in smooth walking progression threatened her balance and put her at needless risk of stumbling. He quickly compensated for the erratic movement and resumed his previous pace, making the left turn as he did so. "When we get to my door I'm going to remove a wall panel to activate the manual controls. It won't be a gentle process, but you'll be shielded from any shrapnel."

For Rogue, it wasn't a matter of simply being polite, or of trying to get something out of making a show of gratitude. Circumstances could change in the blink of an eye, going completely south despite everything he had said and calculated - that was why she felt such a pressing need to make sure he understood how she felt while she had the chance. She couldn't count the number of times people had helped her during the war and she hadn't taken the time to properly thank them; so many lives had been lost because of that help that she couldn't bear to risk leaving things unsaid anymore.

He hadn't been expecting it, though, that was clear as day. She felt his pace change slightly, movement to his body that wasn't consistent with his previous stance, but his quick correction and change of subject sent a strong message.

But shrapnel? "Will you be alright?" There was alarm and concern in her tone, neither of which she bothered trying to hide. If he could see her face, they both would have been written all over her expression anyway. She didn't want him getting hurt in the process of helping her.

"I won't be hurt." Quite strange, meeting someone who didn't already know about his physical capabilities. Everyone around him knew what Khan was, from as far back as he could remember. Even the twenty third century scientists had been able to identify him, and knew much of his physical capabilities, before making any attempt to revive him. In an odd way, that damage resistance had proven to be the saving grace for his kind. The scientists who created them had found it exceedingly difficult to obtain blood samples. It was only when the Augments conducted experiments on themselves that the biochemical healing properties of their blood had been discovered. They all understood that they must guard this secret with their lives, lest humanity find some way to capture and enslave them to tap their bodies for mass production of magical healing potions.

"Nothing short of a bullet can pierce my skin, and if I actually do suffer physical damage it will heal almost instantly."

There was no need to mention that he was also strong enough to rip the metal plate clean off. It was only because the fastening bolts might shatter in the process that there was any need to take precautions in the first place. "Wall to your right. It's uneven, we'll go past seven recessed doors on that side. Mine will be the eighth."

Ah. Well, that explained a few things, answered questions she'd intended to ask much further down the line. She'd wondered about his abilities, what made him different from normal humans, because that's certainly how he looked to her. Perhaps their mutations were more uniform than the random chaos of mutation in Rogue's universe.

Reaching out a hand to balance herself, she let her fingers brush against the wall, feeling how solid matter dropped away for a span before returning - one of the doors. "I've known a lot of people with healing factors like that. One of my best friends was over a century old but still appeared to only be middle-aged because of how advanced his healing was. Any time I was injured, he always insisted I borrow his power to heal myself." And Logan had always beaten himself up whenever she'd gotten hurt and he hadn't been there to stop it or help her afterward.

That was intriguing on many levels, all of which Khan would eventually address. If he had kept his mind on the present instead of turning over the wide ranging implications in his head, he would have decided to keep his mouth shut. The question of Augment longevity had never been answered, and knowing more details about how this man's ability worked could provide relevant clues. There was also the problem that she was referring to him in the past tense. Not only was this an incorrect perspective as time could not progress in her continuity unless she was there to experience it, but it also indicated false despair. Instead of realizing that it might have even deeper implications, he replied, "It's a sound approach. I would do the same thing."

Three more doors. The slowing in pace should be gradual, Khan decided. She would be able to adapt on an unconscious level, avoiding the natural startle reflex that an abrupt stop would set off.

Until that very day, Rogue hadn't known whether Logan was still alive or not. Very little could kill her friend, it was true, but with the way the Sentinels had adapted, no one had been safe. But more than that now, she felt that she couldn't refer to the living, breathing Logan as her friend in the present tense because there was no guarantee that he still would be when she returned to her world. The new timeline might have made it so they never met, or that their meeting hadn't been as powerful a factor in their relationship. Perhaps they were only teacher and student, or little more than teammates. Or maybe they were still close, but... what if there already a Rogue in his life, someone who hadn't been broken by a war that no one else would remember? Depending on when she entered the new timeline, Logan might not even remember the war yet.

There were too many variables at play for her to safely assume that she knew what she was getting into. Until she did, it was easier to keep using the phrasing she'd adopted back in that lab. "He's the one who was sent back to change the timeline, because he'd be able to heal from any physical damage sustained. And because of the way he was sent back... he was the only viable option."

She felt them beginning to slow, which made sense as she counted up the doors they had already passed. The change was gradual and only really noticeable since she was depending upon him entirely as her guide.

"I hope it's not a difficult story for you to tell. It's very possible that the success of my attempt to resolve the paradox will depend quite heavily on the details of that event." Good, she hadn't reacted to Khan's inappropriate little confession that he was inclined, even now, to consider risking his life in an attempt to save hers.

He finally slowed to a stop, tracing his own fingers over the surface in front of him to locate the edge of the panel. Khan had paid significant attention to it in the past as a possible help for an escape plan, and had already altered one of the edges so he could jam his fingertips under it. It shouldn't be too difficult to accomplish the task one-handed. After placing his hand in position, Khan extended both arms and tugged at Rogue's wrist to position her directly opposite the wall. "Brace yourself."

The difficult part would be piecing together the scientific side of things, since she'd only absorbed more recent memories from Bobby and Kitty and nothing from Erik or Charles. The fact that talking about any of it period might be horrendously painful for her wasn't even a consideration - if he needed to know details, then she would have to give them to him, and that was that. She'd just have to pull herself together and deal with it.

She went where he moved her and tensed, raising her free arm to shield herself just in case, even though she couldn't see what might be coming.

Edited 2016-04-08 00:07 (UTC)

Planting a foot on the wall next to the panel provided Khan some extra leverage. He snapped clean through the fastening screws with a sharp yank. The deep thudding sound was brief with no splintering crackle. No shrapnel, and now he had both feet on the ground. "Done."

With only one hand free to operate the manual controls, he simply dropped the metal plate. It clattered against the floor and the soft creak of a seldom activated lever followed, along with an obedient opening whoosh of the door in front of them. Carefully, Khan tugged her forward so she could reach it. "The door frame is at your ten o'clock. Find it and you can follow it to the inside wall. There's a desk two feet from the edge of the door at hip height. You should have plenty of room to stand in that space while I close the door." The next challenge would be retrieving the portable light source but they would face that obstacle after getting inside.

Well, that seemed relatively easy. At least there hadn't been any shrapnel like he'd been concerned about. Even if he would be just fine, she still would have worried about him.

She moved forward to feel for the doorframe, taking carefully measured steps as she made her way inside the room. Falling now would just be silly after having come this far, so it was a relief when she felt the desk where he said it would be and stepped into the space he'd mentioned. "I'm in," she confirmed quietly as she leaned a little against the piece of furniture.

"Good." Finally, he let go and took a few steps to the side table by the bed. After the sound of an opening drawer and shifting of its junk-drawer-like contents, a soft glow began to emanate from Khan's hand.

It was a globe-shaped object, about the size of a billiard ball, producing enough light to reach all four walls but not much more than that. He turned to face his visitor, took a step forward, and placed it gently on the corner of his desk that was furthest away from her. The ball of light changed shape, slightly, the bottom flattening out to conform to the surface it had been rested upon.

The room was large for a bedroom, though it was furnished with little more than a queen size bed and a desk with a chair. An open door revealed a private bathroom with a large tub which could be used as a shower. Several panels on the wall seemed to be display screens of various sorts, though a few were recessed and provided empty counter space.

Khan took a step back, allowing the mutant an ample amount of room to move without risking accidental physical contact with him. "Touch anything you wish, nothing here will cause you harm. Some of the fixtures are voice activated, others require direct physical manipulation. The power should be restored in about thirty minutes, and I should return in about four hours."

He offered her a wry, tight smile. "If at any time you wish to turn off all the fixtures, all you have to do is use late-twentieth-century profanity as part of a verbal command to shut down. Either British or American Earth slang will work, so long as the coarse language was in general use in our own time."

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Transporter Beam Accidents Do Happen

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Sorry I vanished! I love this thread and I'm glad you're still interested. :3

I love it too! <3 I will continue this thing forever.

Khan-muse randomly wakes up!