Ensign Pavel Chekov was having a really bad day. It all started when he woke up late that morning, and was in such a rush to get ready that he forgot to eat breakfast. Unfortunately, he wouldn't have break for another six hours, so he would have to go hungry. Almost as soon as he reached the bridge Commander Spock had asked for a report that Chekov hadn't completed yet, due to the enormous amount of reports he'd been assigned in the past week. The young Russian explained this to Spock, and promised he'd have it the next day. Spock told him not to rush. "Do not worry about the report Ensign. Make sure you complete the tasks assigned to you by the Captain before you see to your other work. I believe he is becoming anxious to have all the Ensign reports in by this week." Chekov nodded in acknowledgement. "Yes zir."
But it only went downhill from there. Scotty called on the Com and asked him to come down and help recalibrate the transporter beam, but while he recalibrated, he accidently beamed Scotty's favorite chair into outer space. Struggling to not lose his temper, Scotty had sent him back up to the bridge, intent on finishing the recalibration alone. Only fifteen minutes after that, Dr. McCoy had come to tell him he was three weeks late with his physical and he should report to Sickbay after his shift was over. At this Chekov sighed and reluctantly agreed; he hated physicals, but they were necessary to make sure he was fit for duty.
And that wasn't the end of it. Just to top it all off, he was alerted and the panel to a private message from his father, a man whose strict rules and emotionless persona made him unbearable to converse with.
This message was different though. In all his seventeen years, never had a message from his father been so awful, not because of who it was written by, but what it had said.
His grandmother was dead.
His grandmother, the woman who cared for him after his mother died when he was a child.
His grandmother, who took him to school and helped him with homework because his father was never home.
His grandmother, who had fed him, clothed him, sheltered him, bathed him, and comforted him.
The one and only person to tell him that she was proud of him getting into Starfleet and becoming navigator of a starship.
She was gone forever.
Chekov could only stare at the screen, unaware of what was going on around him. He didn't hear McCoy arguing about the importance of physicals with the Captain. He didn't hear Uhura interjecting to tell them to be quiet, she was trying not to miss any hailing messages that might be coming in. He didn't notice Sulu becoming concerned and reading the message from his father over the ensign's shoulder. All that mattered was his grandmother.
"…Ensign Chekov!" Chekov nearly jumped ten feet in the air. Captain Kirk was standing in front of him looking down angrily, and the rest of the bridge was staring at them.
"Ensign Chekov, what the heck is wrong with you! You show up late for work this morning, you have three reports that you've yet to turn in, and you beamed Mr. Scott's chair into space. Now I find you've zoned out on my bridge. I can't have officers not paying attention to their work, ensign! It puts everybody on board's lives in danger. Now start paying attention if you want to stay in the navigator chair!"
Chekov's eyes filled with water. He couldn't cry now. Not in front of the Captain and all his co-workers. He had to get out of there.
"Yes zir. It vill not happen again. Um, Mr. Scott needs me to uh, to help him vith engineering…" Chekov, who could no longer contain his tears, ran off the bridge without even waiting to hear Kirk's reply.
The crew was shocked. They had never so much as seen the little ensign upset, let alone cry.
"Congratulations Jim. You can now cross "Making Little Boys Cry" off your bucket list." McCoy spoke.
"But I don't understand. I didn't think I went that hard on him." Kirk said.
"Captain," Sulu interjected. "Chekov had, only a few moments before you reprimanded him, received a message from his father. The message conveyed that his grandmother had passed away."
Uhura gasped. "Oh no. No wonder he was so upset. His grandmother practically raised him after his mother died when he was five. Oh that poor boy."
Kirk felt immensely guilty. He'd just yelled at a young man who had only seconds before found out a person he cared for greatly had died. But the Captain didn't have much time to dwell on that, because only seconds later, Scotty came barreling through the door.
"Captain! Captain! Somethin' jus' awful has happened."
"Calm down Scotty. Your going give yourself a heart attack." McCoy said.
"What's happened Scotty?" Kirk inquired.
Scotty paused just a moment to talk a big gulp of air, the dispare in his eyes only growing stronger.
"It's Chekov sir! Somethin's taken him!"