Alright, cowboys (and girls)! I have a confession to make. I did not see a single Star Trek until the recent 2009 movie (which, coincidentally, is the category where this story is placed...funny how that works out). In which case, I am not well versed in all things Star Trek. Wherefore and henceforth, if I make a truly appalling mistake in the proceeds of this story, I would greatly appreciate it if someone were to let me know. Thanks y'all!
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The funny thing about the whole thing was, it was his 18th birthday.
Well, it was funny in the way that it was really kind of sad, that instead of being on board the Enterprise, sipping his first legal shot of vodka whilst being congratulated on surviving another year by his crew members, he was sitting in a dingy cell on an unknown enemy vessel with a headache that made him wonder if perhaps he had developed an aneurism.
It had been a quiet hour on board the Enterprise when it happened. Chekov had alerted Captain Kirk to the presence of a foreign vessel, small in design, approaching the Enterprise. The vessel was so small that Chekov estimated that only two people would be able to be seated in it. Kirk attempted to make contact with the ship, but as soon as the connection was made, the other ship terminated it, jetting away from the ship. The crew, confused as to the actions of the other ship, attempted to follow it via trackers, but it managed to elude their efforts, disappearing into the dark confines of outer space.
"Something feels off..." Kirk muttered to himself, tapping his temple in thought. Chekov couldn't help but agree wholeheartedly. The whole situation was odd, and he felt as if things were just a little bit too quiet.
Exactly thirty seconds later, alarms began screaming throughout the corridors of the Enterprise.
"Ensign Chekov! What on earth is going on?" Kirk yelled as Chekov's fingertips flew across his data screen.
"Sir, it seems there has been a breach in security in the lower engine rooms. An intruder has entered." he explained, getting frustrated at how he seemed unable to lock on the intruder's exact location.
"Can you tell me how we managed to get an intruder?" Kirk asked, his tone clearly showing his upset.
"I am sorry, sir. There is some kind of block on the computer - it won't tell me anything." Chekov said exasperatedly, fingers flying with renewed fervor in attempt to unlock the data.
"Well you need to get it unblocked now-"
"Captain Kirk! Enemy ship spotted!" Sulu interrupted.
"Attempt contact." Kirk said quickly. "Chekov, see if you can fix the computers!"
"Aye aye, Captain!" Chekov said, gathering some more information last minute on the problem holding back the computer. He would have to go to the main computer room and physically unlock the obstruction to the computer's location and targeting softwares. The hallways were bustling with activity as he sprinted to the computer main, everyone simultaneously manning their stations and attempting to find out what exactly was going on. There was apparently an intruder on board, but no one had seen them or encountered them, at least that Captain Kirk knew of. He had contacted Scotty down in the bowels of the ship where apparently the intrusion had taken place, but he had no knowledge of any such happening until the alarms had gone off.
Something was definitely fishy about this.
Chekov, meanwhile, skidded to a halt in front of the computer main, hurriedly entering his access code. The doors seemed to swish open too slowly, causing Chekov to (painfully) catch his hip and shoulder on the glass as he squeezed into the barely there space. He slid to a stop in front of the appropriate section of the computer, tapping in another access code in order to open the innards to him. His eyes scanned the rows and rows of circuit boards and chips, but he couldn't find any bug anywhere.
"Ensign Chekov!" Captain Kirk's voice barked over the communicator.
"Yes sir?" Chekov asked, still looking for the bug.
"Why are the computers still malfunctioning?" Kirk asked, and Chekov heard the distinct sound of a blast in the background. So, they were firing on each other now. That was always a good sign.
"I am unable to find the problem." Chekov explained quickly. "I am going to have to reset the systems instead."
"Whatever! Just fix it! This 'intruder' is causing more problems than just random alarms. I'm sending Sulu down there to help you." Kirk said, terminating the connection.
Chekov immediately pulled out the first circuit board. If his calculations were correct, he could reset just the location and targeting boards, enabling him to solve the most immediate problems with no intrusion to the other, also immediately necessary, parts of the computer. The doorway down the hall swished open, making Chekov believe that Sulu had made it down to assist him in the resetting of the programs.
"Sulu! I need you to reset the software for the inner targeting system. If I reset the inner locator software as well, we should be returned to full functionality without interfering with the rest of the operating system." Chekov explained quickly, not looking up from the circuit board. Sulu made no response, and no move towards his assignment. "Sulu? Did you hear me? We need to reset-"
He finally looked up, not to be met with the sight of Hikaru Sulu, but of a figure covered completely head to toe in black, whose booted foot was headed strait for the side of Chekov's face at that moment.
Chekov was sent sprawling across the floor, blood from a newly split lip spraying across the previously pristine white floor. He quickly rolled to his feet, turning to face his opponent, who was already launching another attack on him. He dodged the right hook flying towards his face, using his opponent's momentum and his limited Sambo (1) training to force the other person into submission, using his full body weight to hold the intruder down. However, his training was evidently too limited, as his enemy was able to throw a sharp elbow very roughly into Chekov's ribs, making him loosen his grip slightly. His opponent, with previously unknown strength, was able to flip Chekov over, straddling him and grabbing a vial out of a pouch on his utility belt all in one movement. Before Chekov could make a move to prevent it, the vial was emptied into his jugular vein in the very same way that Chekov often saw Bones do to Captain Kirk. From there, the world had gone black.
Which led him to his present condition, laying in a dirty cell, staring at a dirty ceiling, with a headache that was not a hangover from birthday celebrations. Needless to say, Chekov was just a bit disappointed.
"Are you ever going to sit up?" came an exasperated voice from nearby, startling the Russian. He lifted his head, taking in the image of a dark haired girl in a separate cell across from him before decided he regretted the movement and laying his head back down.
"I am trying to collect myself at the moment." Chekov said slowly.
"They stabbed you with that vaccine thing, didn't they?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Sucks." she retorted.
Chekov squeezed his eyes shut, willing his headache to go away. He slowly eased into a sitting position, biting back a groan as the world spun for a moment. "Actually," he said, sliding so that his back was propped against a dirty (surprise, surprise) wall. "it did not 'suck' anything out of me. I believe I was injected with some sort of debilitating serum which removed me of consciousness and allowed for my capture." He was finally able to get a visual on his companion. She was human, roughly the same age as him or a little older, and was also sitting against the back wall with one leg stretched in front of her and the other pulled close, her forearm resting on her knee. Her hair was dark and stick-strait, ending just below her chest. Dark eyes peered at him from under heavy bangs.
She smiled slightly, just one side of her mouth being upturned. "No, not literally. It's a phrase that developed in...Victorian England? Not sure about that, but anyway, it came about because weasels would suck the yolks out of the fresh chicken eggs, rendering them useless. That's what I'm told at least."
Chekov furrowed his brow, mind whirring. "I am afraid I do not understand. Eggs were not involved in my attack."
The half smile returned. "No, it's just an American slang way of saying that something is 'bad' or 'not optimal' or what have you." she explained further.
"Oh." Chekov said, nodding his head slightly in comprehension. "Well, in that case, yes, it did 'suck'."
His companion chuckled. "I'm Amelia." she said. "Amelia Doss."
"I am Pavel Andreievich Chekov, ensign and navigator on the U.S.S. Enterprise." Chekov stated proudly and with a weak smile.
"Well, Pavel Andreievich Chekov, I recommend you go back to sleep. They'll probably be coming for you in a little bit, and you'll want to be as rested as you can be at that point." Amelia said sadly.
"Do you know why we are in here?" Chekov asked. Amelia looked to her lap instead of his questioning eyes.
She paused for a moment. "We're collector's items." she said cynically, much hidden in her tone that wasn't spoken with her words. "They want us because we're special."
"Ah, so you are what they call a 'prodigy' as well?" Chekov said, getting excited.
"Not exactly." she said after a moment.
"Hm. What exactly do you mean then?" he questioned, feeling rather curious.
"I'll tell you later. You really should sleep now." she said softly.
"Alright. Goodnight then, Amelia." Chekov said, retaining his characteristic sunny disposition. The same sad smile returned to her face.
"Goodnight, Pavel." she said, keeping her gaze on him as he laid back down and attempted to rest away his still throbbing headache.
--
Meanwhile, back on the U.S.S. Enterprise, utter chaos was raging.
"What do you mean, you lost Chekov?" Captain Kirk asked Sulu. "How do you lose a Russian?"
"I don't know, sir," Sulu responded, flustered. "I went down to the computer main as you ordered, but when I got there, it was completely empty. The appropriate programs had already been reset and closed off and everything. The only thing there was some blood."
"And no sign of Ensign Chekov?"
"None."
Kirk swore loudly. Somehow, his crew had managed to lose both the enemy ship that had randomly opened fire on them and their favorite Russian prodigy, all in the same night. Needless to say, Captain Kirk was a bit upset at the turn of events.
"Where to start, where to start..." Kirk muttered to himself, beginning to pace around the bridge.
"Captain, if I may..." Spock said calmly, gathering Kirk's attention.
"Go ahead, Spock." Kirk said, turning to his friend.
"We may be able to lock on Ensign Chekov's signal from his communicator, given that the computers are now fully functional, and that he is not out of range. That would be the logical first step to take." Spock said in his normal calm manner.
"Brilliant idea, Mr. Spock!" Kirk said just a little too excitedly, collapsing in his chair and wondering why he didn't think of that himself. "Mr. Sulu, please attempt to locate Chekov via the signal from his communicator."
"Yes, Captain." Sulu said, turning to his station and opening the outer locating software. He typed in the specifics involved with Chekov's communicator, setting the computer at the largest radius it could manage in order to locate the navigator. A map appeared on the screen in front of them, a small dot appearing in the far corner.
"Is that Chekov?" Kirk asked hopefully.
"Yes, sir," Sulu said, though his tone was not as hopeful. The signal was continuously moving further away from the Enterprise. "But it seems they are attempting to move out of range."
"Well follow them!" Captain Kirk said as loud as he could without it technically being called yelling.
"Locking coordinates..." Sulu said, typing in necessary equations and codes as the little red blip that was Chekov moved dangerously close to the edge of the range. But the computer refused to lock the target on him, no matter what Sulu did.
"Mr. Sulu?" Kirk asked, a warning in his tone.
"Yes, sir?" Sulu replied, still tapping away mercilessly at his screen, trying to bypass whatever was keeping him from locking on Chekov.
"Why are the coordinates not locked?" Kirk continued. He was under the impression that something like locking in coordinates was a relatively immediate process. It always had been before.
"There is some kind of barrier around the ship. It does not enable me to lock onto it or anything inside it, such as Chekov's communicator." Sulu responded, now moving frantically as Chekov moved even closer to the edge.
"You need to fix that." Kirk stated.
"I'm working on it!" Sulu barked exasperatedly. Never in his life had he seen such a strange cloaking device, one where the ship could be seen, but not locked on. Chekov was dangerously close to disappearing when Sulu finally found a hole in the system. With renewed fervor he began to hack through the system, but just as he was almost through, Chekov's dot disappeared off the screen. Silence permeated the bridge.
"I...I lost him." Sulu said quietly as his screen went blank. Kirk nodded, biting his fingernail.
"Captain, perhaps we should meet with the nearest Star Fleet member and see if they have seen this strange ship. They might be able to assist us in a search and rescue mission in order to retrieve Ensign Chekov." Spock said. Jim shook his head.
"No, that would take too much time. They would be long gone by then." Jim said, standing up and resuming his pacing. He paused, looking back towards the screen with a look of deep thought on his face. He repositioned himself with a jerky, awkward motion, pointing at the screen without saying anything.
"Sir? What course of action should we take?" Sulu asked. A smirk appeared on Jim's face, a look that was often accompanied by something rather risky.
"I need you to scour the ship and find that pesky relief navigator - the flaky one that always seems so hyperfocused?" he began, speaking to Sulu. He turned to Spock. "Mr. Spock, I need you to examine the given path we have for that ship and then calculate the trajectory of it. Maybe if we can predict where it is going, we can follow it, then lock on it when Chekov is back in range."
"Captain, this idea exhibits dangerous tendencies." Spock advised. "We will be unable to surprise the other ship, and we will be unable to open fire on it, considering we are uninformed as to the location of Ensign Chekov within the ship. Not to mention that if they were to alter their trajectory by even the slightest, my calculations would be rendered useless, as we would no longer be on the same line as they are."
"Ah, Mr. Spock, when are you going to learn that an idea that is not dangerous is unworthy of being called an idea at all (2)?" Jim said with a smirk, sinking into his chair with a much more confident air now. "Besides, we don't need to be on the exact same line as they are, we just need to be able to get near enough that we can find Chekov's signal again."
Spock looked at Kirk for a moment with a look that made Kirk feel as if his Vulcan companion was debating whether or not it would be worth the emotional taxation to kill him in some secretive and intricate way. But, after a year of working together, Jim knew the look would pass and that Spock would agree with his side.
"I am unsure as to the solidity of this plan of action." was Spock's response. Jim smiled - he had him exactly where he wanted him.
"Mr. Spock, a member of my crew has been wrongfully removed from my ship. I am against people who decide to take my crew members away from me. In fact, I down right loathe those kinds of people. Ensign Chekov is a valuable and irreplaceable member of this crew. I consider his retrieval to be of top priority. Do you know what that means?"
Spock looked as if he would rather not know what that meant. "What does it mean, Captain?"
"It means that we need to go and get our Russian back. Now, would you please calculate the trajectory and estimated path of the people that took him?" Jim asked nicely. If Spock were not Vulcan, he would have sighed in resignation.
"I shall have those calculations for you shortly, Captain." he said, showing no signs of his vexation.
"Excellent." Jim said, swivelling back to the front. "Mr. Sulu, where is our backup navigator?"
"He should be arriving shortly." Sulu said with impatience. "I alerted him only three minutes ago."
"It's already been three minutes? We've got to work on that. Way too slow in my ship." Jim said, leaning back and crossing his legs. Uhura, who had been attempting to ignore the entire conversation and try to pick up any sign of the enemy ship instead, finally turned to Jim.
"Captain, permission to speak freely?" she said in a sarcastic tone.
"Of course, Uhura. Speak away." Jim said, turning to her.
"I feel as though you are being rather cavalier in attitude about this. Chekov is somewhere in outer space on an enemy ship - we don't even know if he is still alive! And you're cracking jokes about how the reliefe navigator isn't coming to his post fast enough!" she said vehemently.
"Well, Uhura, I don't believe I am being cavalier about this, but more...confident." Jim said with a smile. Uhura just continued to glare at him, causing his expression to sober immediately. "We will find him, Uhura. I will not leave Chekov to whatever fate his captors have planned for him."
The seriousness of his face and tone seemed to appease Uhura for the moment, as she nodded and turned back to her screen, trying to listen for any signs of the enemy ship. The relief navigator then arrived at his post, quickly settling into Chekov's chair and typing in the necessary access codes. Spock also returned, walking up to Jim.
"Captain, I have calculated the estimated path of the enemy ship." Spock said, presenting his PADD for Jim to see his results.
"Very good." Jim said, perusing the calculations before handing them back to Spock. "Let's enter warp and catch up to those nasty little buggers."
--
Chekov was roughly kicked awake. He felt as if he had only been asleep for mere moments, and though his head felt marginally better, he would much have preferred to sleep longer.
"C'mon pipsqueak, uppity time." a rough voice commanded him, adding another kick for good measure. Chekov groaned, pushing himself into a sitting position. His awakener grabbed him by the upper arm, violently pulling him to his feet.
"I am coming." Chekov protested weakly, trying to get his captor to be a little more gentle. Somewhere inside he knew that his protests were useless.
"Big Boss Man wants to see you now." the man, who was a very large, muscular specimen, said with a menacing chuckle, pulling Chekov out of his cell. Chekov caught Amelia's eye as he was being pulled away; she gave him a sad look with as comforting a smile as she could muster, as if she knew the turmoil that lied in front of him. He gave her a confident smile - after all, he was Russian, and Russians could handle anything.
He hoped.
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(1) - Sambo is a common form of Martial Arts from Russia.
(2) - quote by Oscar Wilde: "An idea that is not dangerous is unworthy of being called an idea at all."
well, tell me what y'all think! it's a little bit shorter than i usually write, but the chapters will probably get longer as i am able to come up with some more ideas to flesh them out with. please leave love and tell me what you think!
~XM