Chekov sat gripping the rock for several minutes, feeling weaker and number by the second. He wondered if Kirk and Bones would find him soon and wished he had grabbed his communicator instead of his tricorder. What could he scan in the middle of a river, anyway?
        He could tell he was slowly slipping away from consciousness. The edges of his vision had gone dark, and he was having a hard time thinking clearly. He felt his head nodding down, and struggled to lift it back up. I ken't give in to zhe cold, he thought. He looked around himself weakly. I should never hef volunteered for zhis. Eet ees a suicide mission. He resisted the temptation to fall asleep, knowing it was hypothermia and he would die if he lost consciousness.
        Suddenly, he heard a strange sound. It was a constant rattling, like a broken air conditioner. Chekov tried to look around himself, but he was too cold and weak to turn his head more than an inch. He wondered if it was just a hallucination brought on by his hypothermia.
        The sound began to get louder. Whatever was making it was moving closer. "H-hello?" he whispered. "Wh-who ees zh-zhere?" The words felt awkward in his mouth. His lips were too numb to talk properly.
       The sound became deafening, and he saw a large shadow fall across the river. He looked up, and saw a huge boat blocking the sky. He gazed up at it in wonder. It had sleekly polished wooden sides, and was unlike any boat he'd ever seen before. It looked like it was upside-down, with a smooth, round top. It had fins sticking out of its sides, and small windows through which light could be seen. The whole thing was about thirty yards long, and maybe five yards high.
        As he watched, a long drawbridge of sorts emerged from the side of the vessel. Two figures became visible and were slowly walking towards him. Chekov felt no fear, only a resignation. He didn't have the strength to fight as they lifted him off of the rock and into the boat.
        The figures were wearing a strange kind of jumpsuit with mirrored helmets, making their features invisible. Though humanoid, they seemed about a foot taller than the average human male.
        They dragged him into their vessel, his clothes dripping icy water onto the floor.
        As they began closing the gap in the side of their boat, he saw Kirk and McCoy running towards him in the distance. They were yelling something, probably his name. He tried to yell back, but his voice had gone numb.
        The door closed, his friends no longer visible. He struggled weakly against his kidnappers, but he had no strength left from his exhausting swim in the river. He tried to dig his boots into the polished tile floor, to no avail. He stopped struggling and let the figures drag him into a small room.
        They placed him on a table, putting restraints on his wrists and ankles. Shivering, he turned his head to look at them. Somehow managing to find the strength to speak, he whispered, "Vhat do you vant?"
        The figures looked at each other in apparent surprise. Slowly, they took off their helmets, revealing a relatively human-looking face. They had pale skin that bordered on yellow, and strange noses that stretched out wide on their cheeks. Neither had hair.
        "How do you know our language?" one said.
        Chekov was confused for a moment, then remembered his translator. "Oh. I hef a device called a uniwersal trensletor. Eet makes eet seem zhat ve are speaking zhe same language." Though not happy at being captured, he was grateful for the warmth in the room. He no longer felt in danger of freezing to death.
        "Where is this device?"
        Chekov bit his lip. He didn't want to break the prime directive by giving this society new technology, but he didn't know how advanced they were. Frankly, he was surprised that it hadn't come unclipped from the inside of his sleeve or become frozen.
        "Well?" inquired the second alien.
        Chekov gave in. From what he had seen of their boat, they seemed to be relatively advanced. They would find it eventually, anyway. "Eet's eenside of my sleeve."
        The alien reached over and unclipped it. After some examination, it was placed on another table.
        "Do you have any weapons?" the alien asked.
        "No. My phaser got swept avay by zhe current."
        "Any other technology?"
        "My tricorder. I stuck eet in my boot."
        The alien fished it out and placed it on the table with the translator.
        "Anything else?"
        Chekov shook his head. "No."
        "Thank you for your cooperation."
        Chekov nodded awkwardly. "Do you need me for anyzhing else?"
        "Well, we would like to study you, of course. We've never met anyone of your species before." The alien grinned, revealing pointy teeth. "By the way, what do you call your species?"
        "Um, ve usually call ourselves humans, but our scientific name ees homo sapien."
        "Human is easier to say. We shall call you that."
        "O-okay."
        The alien poked him, causing him to flinch. "What is your blood base?"
        "Um, carbon."
        "What kind of pigment is in your skin?"
        "Melatonin."
        The alien kept asking him questions about human physiology, while the other alien took notes on a scroll. This went on for a half hour before the first alien nodded in satisfaction and left the room with the second alien, conferring quietly.
        Chekov wondered how long it would take for the Enterprise to rescue him. He hoped it would be soon. He didn't know how this species generally studied other species, and he didn't want to.
       He wished that he had a set of dry clothes. Despite the heating in the room, he was still cold and wet.
        Looking around the room, he realized that he had not had the chance to examine it properly. There were three tables, all identical. The walls were a sterile white, and the floor was the same material. There were electrical lights in each corner of the room, all aiming towards the table on which he laid, which was the middle table. On the table to his left, his translator and tricorder rested. He turned to look at the table on his right and went cold. This table held what looked like surgery tools. All of them were shiny and sharp. He gulped audibly and severely hoped that he would be rescued before they started cutting him open.
        As he thought this, the two aliens returned. He jerked his head in their direction, eyes wide with fear. He hoped that he looked calmer than he felt.
        "Why do you suddenly look so afraid?" the first alien asked. "You seemed quite calm earlier."
        Chekov felt a spark of anger towards these aliens. "Vell, eet's not ewery day zhat you get captured by strange people, tied to a table, and zhen deescower zhat said starve strange people might cut you open." He jerked his head towards the sharp tools. "In my society, zhese ections could be an act of var." He knew he was exaggerating, but he wanted to make a point.
        "Oh, you saw the tools? Don't worry; we're not studying your organs yet. We're going to study your bones today."
        "And how are you going to do-"
        Suddenly, the alien grabbed his leg and snapped it with one clean movement. Chekov cried out, tears already pouring out of his eyes. The pain was excruciating. It hurt even worse than when he had broken his arm in the turbolift.
        The alien frowned. "Hmm, that was much more fragile than I expected. My apologies." Looking at Chekov's face, the frown deepened. "What are you doing?" A hand reached over and touched his tears. "Why is there water coming out of your eyes?"
        Chekov was too busy sobbing to answer. His vision was blurred with tears, and he barely noticed the sound of footsteps running down the hall outside.
        The door burst open, revealing two familiar faces.
        "Chekov!" Kirk yelled, hitting the two aliens with phaser blasts. They fell to the floor, stunned. "Are you okay?"
        "Obviously not!" Bones ran over towards Chekov. "Good God, man, what happened? We've gotta get you back to the ship!"
        Kirk flipped open his communicator. "Scotty, get us out of here!"
        "Aye, Cap'n."
        Kirk walked over to where Bones stood. Both placed their hands on Chekov's arm.
        "Since the transporter's got bugs, we've all gotta be touching for it to work. Scotty thinks he may only be able to transport once before he gets some more permanent fixes in place," Kirk explained. Chekov wasn't listening. He was distracted by the pain in his broken leg.
        The transporter beam caught them, and they soon appeared in the transporter room. Scotty ran over, eyes wide.
        "Get a medteam!" Bones told him. "He's got a broken leg."
        Scotty nodded and ran to the wall unit. He commed Sickbay and a medteam was soon there. Chekov was lifted onto a stretcher and carried down to Sickbay.
~~~~~~~~~~Author's Note~~~~~~~~~~
I'm really sorry it took so long for me to publish! I'd like to apologize to violamodus in particular. I know I told you it would be done by Saturday. Sorry it took so long 😢
I'd also like to shoutout to LogicalTrekkiness for being so great! You're one of my best friends that I've ever had. I hope to meet you in person someday (though that seems unlikely, as I live on the opposite side of the country)!