16
All I need is You
Author's note: I haven't written Star Trek before. I'm not sure how it happened, but here I am. My understanding of technology or space sucks. I have written many stories most recently for Sherlock Holmes, Ironman, In Plain Sight, and CSI. Pavel Chekov was probably my first crush ever. I know this story is about love, but I do not yet know if it is about romance. Please let me know what you think.
Chapter 1
The concussion left him largely deaf on his right. Through his right ear, a medley of alarms went blaring. He choked on smoke as he pulled himself upright. The bridge was largely shrouded in the smoke, but he could smell the devastation around him.
"Report!" He shouted into the smoke. "Status!"
"Sir!" Chekov turned to find a ghastly apparition before him. James Uhuru, his number one, was sagging against a railing, his face largely gone. What remained above his mouth were bloody sockets where his eyes once were and parts of his skull still stood.
"I can't seem to see through the smoke," said the man, his voice gurgling.
Chekov rushed forward. "Jimmy, you sit down, friend. I have everything under control."
He helped the tall man slide down the railing onto the floor.
"Captain, I can report."
He turned sharply to find his Vulcan helmsperson trying to regain control of her board. "I believe that we have received a cripple blow to our core."
Chekov frowned. There was no one in this quadrant capable of sneaking up on the Tolstoy, and crippling it with one blow. It didn't matter that he was Starfleet, he was Chekov, the one who exasperated most of the Federation admiralty with his unwillingness to travel with shields down outside of Federation space. It was hell finding a chief engineer willing to put up with the power drains he constantly inflicted upon the ship.
"Engine room, Report!"
He was greeted with nothing but static.
"Engine room!"
Lt. Vare', his helmsperson, looked up. "I am showing no life signs below deck four, Sir."
His hand dug deeply into the back of her chair. "Report on all systems, Lieutenant!"
He climbed over bodies until he found the communications console. He flipped off all the alarms and began to isolate them. He found core breaches on levels five, six, and seven. There was no time to look for casualties. She'd reported no life signs, but he didn't trust those sensors. He immediately sealed the hull at level four. He almost choked on emotion, but there could be no room for it. "Be advised, Lieutenant, that the hull has been sealed at deck four."
There was another explosion from the lower decks, and the ship began to freefall through space. He gripped a railing with one hand, and managed to snag Vare' with another. Other members of his bridge crew floated lifelessly about him. The Vulcan looked at him wide-eyed.
He pushed her down toward her console. "Hold on. You need to bring up auxiliary power."
Vare' grabbed the console with both hands while her legs floated above her head. "I can't activate auxiliary power."
"Do it." He snapped.
"It's not responding, Sir."
Chekov closed his eyes for a moment. He saw Scotty pulling the lower left part of the console off the helm. "Vare', pull the lower left panel off."
"But, Sir…"
"Do it." In his head, he remembered Scotty turning to him with a twinkle, 'Laddie, there's nothing like a good short circuit to wake up things up.'"
"Pull out the blue wires on the left side of the panel and the green and red wires out of the right side."
He maneuvered himself behind her. "I'm going to climb down to so I can help. Hold on." Without another word, he grabbed her waist and pulled himself down to the console beside her.
They needed tools, but there was no time. Grabbing the red wires, he yanked hard, sending a shower of sparks up at them. Then he grabbed the blue and did the same. With these violent actions, he was able to strip a few wires of each color. He looked into her face. "You wrap the blue and the green, I'll wrap the blue and the red. Hopefully, we'll both survive the jolts of electricity."
To her credit, she merely nodded and reached for the blue and the green. Without hesitation, she wrapped them, and then screamed as the electricity ran through her. Chekov let her float away, the smell of singed flesh in the air. Then he swallowed a dry throat, licked his lips, and did the same thing with the red and green.
The electricity threw him back too, but he stubbornly grabbed a railing with his burned hand as a loud screeching sounded through the vessel. He pushed himself down to the console once more and engaged auxiliary reverse thrusters. The screeching turned into a whine, and the ship stopped falling. Gravity returned, and there was the sickening thump of bodies falling around him.
Vare' pulled herself up, her hands slick from the blood of the lost skin on her hands. Still, she headed toward the helm position, and began to draw all remaining systems in through her console.
"I want a report from security first. Who did this and where are they?" he barked.
She bent her head over her work. The smoke had largely cleared and he surveyed the room. Bodies lay everywhere. He couldn't allow himself even a ragged sigh of grief. Then he remembered Jimmy Uhuru, and he rounded the console to find him. Jimmy was sprawled face forward over the science console. Relief flooded Chekov that Jimmy was face down. He couldn't handle what had happened to the young man's face. He reached a hand into his bloody neck, searching for the carotid. It took mere seconds for him to realize that Jimmy had bled out. He lingered for a moment. Big, handsome Jimmy Uhuru was Nyota's second cousin. He'd watched Jimmy's ascent through ranks for years, and he grabbed him without hesitation when his first officer position opened. Jimmy had been Chekov's only confidante on the ship, and Pavel felt a distinct pang of loss. Jimmy, with this enthusiasm, loyalty and work ethic, reminded him much of himself in the early years.
"Sir, from what I can tell, we were hit by three cloaked ships at close range."
Chekov rose from Jimmy's side. "Impossible. What kind of ships?"
"They are largely freighter class vessels."
"And they put holes in my ship with what?"
She shook her head and he strode over and pulled up security data. It was as she'd said. None of these freighters were warrior class. Their weapons should have bounced off his hull, shields or no shields. The cloaking technology was the lesser surprise. Despite an ongoing treaty process with the Romulans, it was long suspected that they had selling their cloaking technology to private sector to whoever had the credits to pay.
Chekov looked over to the security console and saw young ensign Mandler slumped to the floor, his neck clearly snapped. Chekov couldn't stand to check another pulse. Instead, he routed security through the navigation console. Most of the sensors were out of service, but there was enough intelligence for him to know that the three ships were still there and waiting.
He slid back on the seat and closed his eyes. He had no doubt there was still dozens alive aboard his ship, and he, as yet, had failed to address them. "Open comm, Vare'."
The link was snowy, but he didn't wait for her to fix it. "Attention, all Starfleet personnel aboard the Tolstoy, this is your captain speaking." He paused for a moment as he imagined the relief flooding through frightened crewmembers stuck in cabins. "We have been attacked by unknown assailants. We are running on auxiliary power only right now. I need crew to gather up basic survival gear and head for docking bays 11 and 13."
Vare' looked up. "Those bays are below the hull breach."
Chekov grimaced and hit the comm again. "Correction. All Starfleet personnel will be evacuating to docking bays 4 and 5."
"Vare', send out distress signal code blue."
It was the code most feared by a starship crew, and he could see her start to tremble even through her Vulcan façade.
Chekov checked weapons status, and found one intact torpedo bay. He forced the crippled vessel to turn toward his assailants, and without hesitation, he unloaded torpedoes off at them. He hit them all. One exploded outright, and the other listed as fires erupted at their breach sites. He loaded up the torpedoes again, lights flickering around him, and aimed.
Vare' interrupted. "The torpedoes sapped 39% of all available auxiliary power. If you fire again, it will go up to 87%. We'll only have oxygen for three hours after that."
Chekov dropped his hand back into his lap. "We'll watch them burn."
For a moment, it felt real; a victory over his attackers. But Vare's words reminded him that there was no real victory if he allowed his crew to perish for vengeance alone. He turned to her. "Prepare to abandon bridge."
"The shuttles in those docking bays will not accommodate more than 37 people. Even if there is only enough of us left to fill two shuttles, we'll be months away from the nearest Federation outpost."
"Lieutenant, you're letting your fear take over. It's unacceptable. We will take each moment as it comes, and we'll never anticipate the worst."
She nodded slowly. "Sir, I volunteer to stay on the bridge and fire salvos if our shuttles are threatened."
"Thank you, Lieutenant, but I need you to organize crew into each docking bay. Right now, I'll stay on the bridge."
"But Sir!"
He shook his head. "I will join you as soon as possible."
After she left, he breathed a sigh of relief. He allowed his face a brief quiver, but bit his lower lip, and set his face again.
At that moment, a security sensor went off, and he detected another ship coming into the sector. It was larger than the freighters. He pored over the data for a moment and then suck in breathe deeply. The news couldn't get any worse. He aimed the remaining three torpedoes at the ship and fired everything he had.
….
Nyota remained composed on the screen. The only reaction he could see was her hand tightening on her knee. Finally, she said, "He sent a code blue."
Captain Hikaru Sulu nodded. "No one has been able to establish radio contact in the last 48 hours."
"Okay, Hikaru, what are the simple explanations? Let's get those out of the way first."
Her question was anxiety, and Sulu made no attempt to try and answer it.
"Pavel was investigating missing vessels in that sector."
"Yeah, it was a great assignment. The Tolstoy couldn't be any newer. Only holds a complement of 98, but the speed and maneuverability…It's an amazing ship."
"Don't distract me, please."
Sulu nodded. "Three ships have disappeared in that quadrant over the last six months. Counting Tolstoy, it'll be four."
"Jesus, Hikaru, could you at least try to focus."
He ran a hand over his face. "I am desperate hoping that there is way this will not be a tragedy of epic proportions. I have not allowed a single facial muscle to move in two days. I don't sleep. I don't eat. I'm sorry, Nyota. I am anything but focused right now."
She leaned forward as if in the same room. "I know, baby, I know."
"Your cousin, Jimmy, our friend, Pavel, my…" Sulu's words stuck in his throat.
"We've been through some rough ones. And Pavel always makes it out of the most unlikely situations. I can't count the number of times he's dropped himself in the middle of some kind of nonsense. Boy has proclivities for trouble. If we've learned anything, we've learned that we don't know until we know."
"Okay."
"Hikaru, look at me."
The distinguished starship captain raised his head like a repentant schoolboy.
"It's not time to grieve yet."
He nodded slowly.
"I understand your heart as well as you allow anyone. I can imagine the regrets…the desperation…the things left unsaid…I know that much about you."
He couldn't look at her.
"Put the fear away, Hikaru. Put it away now. It's doesn't help you find the Tolstoy."
"Yes," he simply.
"In order to find the Tolstoy, you have to eat and sleep, and be the ever-efficient, uber-cool, fierce Captain Sulu of the U.S.S. Excelsior. I know that you have a place to put those nasty feelings until this is over. I've seen you do it."
Hikaru sighed and met her eyes.
"I'm being hard on you, but everyone needs you right now. I need you to find Jimmy and Pavel, and all of those lovely, talented, good young people they had with them. Admiral Kirk almost hi-jacked a cruiser today. Can you picture it? Scotty and Bones were with him. They were going to set off all of their own. Luckily, Spock talked them down. Baby, you're doing this for everybody. Nobody's at peace right now. Your situation might be special, but that's all it is."
"You're right."
"I'm with you every moment, my brother. You are my priority right now."
His face reddened and he closed his eyes.
"We're going to talk every night that you're able. I will be there."
"I wish you were here," he blurted suddenly.
"You know I gotta' babysit these peace talks. Spock made it very clear to me today that he will be too busy to run herd over the three stooges in case they start itching to search for the Tolstoy again."
He shook his head. "You just referred to Admiral Kirk as a 20th century—"
"I know what I said. And now you know how I'm feeling right now. If I was doing what I wanted right now, I would be standing by your side. You know that."
"We all have our trials."
"And you're going take that Excelsior and get to the bottom of this ugliness before the original command crew of the Enterprise takes after them in a second rate passenger shuttle. They still think they can turn water into wine. And by God, they'll do it too."
….
Lieutenant Walma Riggs looked up as Sulu entered the bridge. His face, as usual, was a blank slate for everyone except Lt. Riggs. She was half Betazoid, a fact that didn't endear her to Starfleet. Few on board knew of her ethnicity. Her orders were to focus on navigation duties, and stay out of everyone's head.
She couldn't help it with Sulu though. He was always so inscrutable. It was maddening, and this thing with the Tolstoy was craziness. Captain Sulu's friendship with Captain Chekov was known throughout the ship.
The year earlier, Chekov had spent three months on the Excelsior in order to help ready it for inspection. Chekov was unforgettable. No one had ever been drilled so hard or held crew so accountable before and since that period. Chekov was tough, merciless even, and he would have been considered heartless too even if he hadn't spent so much time every night in the officer's club.
People came in dejected after a day of his tyranny, and he'd sit down and listen to them. He was open to telling stories about his own struggles with failure. He urged them to never accept defeat. Soon every officer on board was heading to the club in the evenings. And at some point every evening, he'd sit back and start telling stories about the early days before the Federation had treaties with the Klingons and the Romulans. Stories of the Enterprise A and Admiral Kirk were legends and Chekov seemed to have endless tales of Kirk's bravery and the exploits of their voyages.
Even Captain Sulu would stroll in- a rare event at the O club. He'd buy drinks for the table, and then he'd sit next Chekov, completely relaxed, and listen to him tell the old stories. He didn't even stop him when Chekov would pull out old Sulu tales. The Excelsior crew began to feel like they really knew those old heroes: Kirk, Spock, Scotty, Uhuru, Bones, and even helmsman, Sulu.
The inspection finally happened and the ship got an unheard of perfect score. One night, Chekov announced in the officer's club that he was leaving for a new assignment. Walma Riggs was there, and the angst she felt rising up in Captain Sulu had stunned her. Her captain, the bravest man she knew, sat next to his friend with feelings so deep they took her breath away. To everyone's shock, Chekov even reached over at one point and put his hand over Sulu's, and the captain never flinched. Acted like it was normal thing.
As Sulu coolly surveyed the bridge, Lt. Riggs knew more than anyone else on the ship, the war of emotions raging within him. She'd long known she'd follow him into the gates of Hell, and to feel how deeply his heart was at stake only strengthened her resolve.
….
Sulu surveyed the Tolstoy silently, his officers standing around him. They had been at the crash site on a class M for two days now, and Sulu had avoided coming down until this moment.
The frigid wind of the barren planet took hold of his cape and whipped it roughly about his shoulders. "Let's start with the timeline."
Commander Aguilera stiffened. "It's still under some debate, Sir."
He turned dark eyes on her. "I want a report, Commander."
"Yes, Sir, what we know is that the Tolstoy was attacked in the fourteenth sector of the 42nd quadrant. We found traces of fuel from as many three freighters…"
He narrowed his eyes. "Freighters, not warships."
"Yes, Sir, but we also found signature vapors from a Gorn ship."
Sulu nodded curtly. "Timeline please."
"Yes…we believe that the Tolstoy was caught in a sneak attack. We've reviewed the damage to the ship. They received a crippling blow near the engine room. The hull was closed off at deck four." She waited for comment, but upon hearing none, she continued, "A distress signal was sent out. We believe the ships core failed and it went into freefall. We have evidence on the bridge that auxiliary power was accessed and stopped the fall. The bridge also sent salvos, hitting the freighters. Other torpedoes were shot at the Gorn ship."
"Status of these ships."
"We found wreckage from two freighters. We believe a third one might've limped away. There is evidence of damage to the Gorn ship, but it was not fatal. We believe that the Gorn ship sent troops to battle on board the Tolstoy. The doctor has better information on this, but we think that combat happened over the course of 3-4 hours. Then the ship drifted until it was captured in this planet's gravity"
Sulu nodded and walked away.
….
The bridge was burnt and twisted, but Sulu climbed in through a breach after some of his techs. Bodies had been removed, but there were streaks of blood everywhere. One of his techs knelt in front of the helm, peering at a number of burnt wires. Sulu knelt beside him. "Do you understand what happened here, Ensign?"
The young man looked up, startled. "Not really, Sir."
Sulu took the wires. "When the core failed and the ship went into freefall, the helm attempted to engage auxiliary. Imagine it. They were at zero gravity at this moment." Sulu sighed. "When auxiliary power didn't engage…someone pulled out the console and rewired the circuits. A brilliant little piece of work, really. It allowed them to fight, and attempt to escape."
Sulu held onto the wires for a long moment. He knew exactly who'd rewired the helm console. For a moment, he imagined Chekov as he feverishly worked to keep his ship afloat. The intensity…the passion…Sulu let go of the wires as if they were alive again.
…..
His chief medical officer was in docking bay four. She was jittery, her arms wrapped tightly around her body.
"What is your report, Dr. Flis?"
She pushed stubborn red curls off her face. "There are 110 bodies on this ship. 53 of them were Gorn warriors. Of the 57 stafleet personnel, 32 likely died in the first attack, and 25 perished in combat with the Gorn."
Sulu nodded but kept his distance. Her nervousness threatened to envelope him.
"Some of my staff…we've never encountered anything like this. There will be need for de-briefing…I'm worried that some will need counseling."
"Dr. Flis, this is terrible for all of us, but we cannot start to unravel, particularly members of the command staff. Do you understand me?"
She looked away. "Yes, Sir."
He patted her lightly on the hand. "Your people are doing excellent work. Focus on how you're honoring them right now with your care. You are a witness to their struggle."
She frowned at him. "I don't know…"
He looked her directly in the eyes. "This could have been us. If it had been, and others were here at the scene at our last stand, what would you want from them? How would want them to honor us?"
Hers eyes filled and she nodded. "I understand you, Sir."
….
He wished it would be Nyota only, but his nightly communications had become quite popular, and so now he faced a screen with many familiar faces, including Admiral Kirk, Ambassador Spock, Captain Scott, Dr. McCoy, and Nyota.
He forced himself to clinically repeat the findings his staff had made. When he finished, his mouth felt completely dry.
"We're still missing 41 Starfleet personnel, Captain."
He nodded. "I know, Admiral. There is evidence that one shuttle might have escaped. We're scouring the area, but even that shuttle couldn't have housed more than 19 people."
"How did the remaining 22 people disappear?" McCoy had been too agitated to sit, pacing behind where the others were seated.
Sulu sighed. "It's only a theory, but I think I know what happened. I believe Chekov fired two sets of torpedoes at the freighters and then at the Gorn ship. He drained most of the auxiliary power with those actions. I believe that he refused to surrender to the Gorn. I think they transported several Gorn troops unto the Tolstoy. There was hand-to-hand combat. I believe that Chekov and his crew would have fought them for days, but the oxygen levels were so depleted. Gorn aren't as oxygen dependent as Humans and Vulcans. I think 25 members of his crew fought them to their death. I think the rest passed out from lack of oxygen. I believe that the Gorn took as many as 22 members of unconscious Starfleet personnel onto their ship."
"Sons of bitches," Scotty muttered under his breath.
"Do we know enough about the Gorn to know what happened next?" Bones asked.
James Kirk stood up. "We don't know the Gorn well. We've had skirmishes with them over the years. You all remember one in particular. I don't believe that the Gorn have a system of honor that would allow them to recognize our people as prisoners of war."
Spock nodded. "There have been unconfirmed reports that Gorn have used prisoners for sport or to sell them as slaves."
McCoy wheeled toward Sulu. "The next step is for you to find them."
There was a long silence on both ends.
"What's wrong with that idea?" McCoy yelled.
Kirk took him by the arm. "Bones, calm down. You have to understand that part of the quadrant. There is little law and order there. Sending a Federation starship through on a search mission isn't a good idea. The Excelsior would stick out like a sore thumb. The Gorn are hard to find and Starfleet isn't any more respected in that quadrant of space than they are. I don't think Sulu would get anywhere and he certainly wouldn't get any local cooperation."
"I think this is a perfect chance to work with the Mingi tribes."
Scotty frowned at Spock. "What are you talking about? Who are these Mingi?"
"They are a tribal people who engage in trading between planets. They will trade anything including people, weapons, and stolen goods. They are quite prevalent in that quadrant."
Scotty cursed. "I hate slavers."
"However, they are not under our jurisdiction, and they have no particular qualms with Starfleet at present. We've recently offered to double any bounty the Mingi find on Starfleet personnel. They are very motivated to find our people and return them. They will buy them at auction, if necessary. They are known as procurers for private buyers."
"This is wild!" McCoy shouted.
"I have to agree with the doctor!" Sulu said. "Do you really think a slaver tribe would have more success than the Excelsior?"
"If we want to retrieve Starfleet personnel, yes. Once, they are safe, we can send in big guns to find Gorn ships." Admiral Kirk sat down again.
"Admiral's right," Nyota said softly.
"Sulu, your people need to bring the Tolstoy bodies home now. You have to bring in your findings. We're not cowboys anymore. Those days are gone."
"From the horse's mouth himself," muttered Bones.
Nyota Uhuru leaned forward. "Have you made identifications on the recovered bodies? Have you done notifications?"
"Yes. I don't know if it's ultimately good or bad news, but Pavel Andreivich Chekov was not among the bodies."
Sighs of relief sounded around the room. It was only in this space with these people that they could share their preference for a particular person.
Sulu took a breath. "Gentlemen, I ask if you could leave the room while I talk to Nyota in private."
She stiffened. "Oh my God! You have Jimmy's body!"
…..
Next week sometime