Disclaimer: I own nothing or profit from anything.
Summary: Sulu faces what has happened after Nero. Dedicated to one who died long before his time.
A friend of the family died earlier this week and this is my quick release. He was a friend to not only me, but my son.
It just wasn't fair. That thought summed up everything that had happened. All those innocent lives lost, all those young men and women killed before their lives had a chance to even begin. They had been blown to bits as if they were nothing but old satellites left over from the 20th century. It was cruel and heartless. The travesty on Vulcan was almost incomprehensible. An entire race and home world of a great people had been destroyed in barely a blink of an eye. Not an area of the universe was unaffected. Lives were touched far behind the wake of destruction, feelings were distorted, time seemed to slow and no one was sure how they would continue on.
Hikaru Sulu stood with his arms crossed as he looked out into the vast darkness of space. He had been standing in that one spot for over an hour, but it had felt like a handful of minutes. His dark eyes rapidly moved as he sorted through his thoughts. His breath was rapid just like his heartbeat. Three days after the attack, he had just begun to come to terms with what had happened.
They were on their way home, but the Enterprise was crippled and that left the crew with nothing but time on their hands. Time that not only allowed them a chance to make what repairs they were equipped to handle, but a chance to truly realize the depth of the anguish left in the wake of the Narada. Sulu had attempted to keep his cool exterior in place at all times, feeling as though if he could keep calm it would help the others. Kirk and Spock had once more regained their control. The Senior Crew needed to face the crew with a brave front.
All had been well until as his shift ended he turned to take the lift and out of habit he reached over to smack Chekov on the shoulder and called him by a nickname given by a now dead man. "Come on, Dumplings!" As soon as the words left his mouth, both men stilled and grew pale. It was as if the very word had conjured up the ghosts of the dead.
Dumplings had been the name Chekov earned after he had ate two dozen Asian dumplings prepared by Sulu's former bunkmate, Cho. He had been the one to introduce Sulu to Chekov. Cho had a way with people. He could be a rough and tumble man, like Jim, or he could be sensitive and caring, like an older brother. Whatever someone needed the most, Cho was happy to step in and fill the void. Reading with Chekov or sparring with Sulu, he was that versatile. While he was a man of many faces, his genuine concern and open heart was consistently shared with those around him. They had become like family.
Cho had been stationed on the Farragut for two years now. He had been so proud he had been chosen to take Chief Pilot. Telling Dumpling that he would now have to keep Sulu company and to keep in touch over the years and distance. Of course the two had been more than happy to oblige the older man with correspondence. Little was said from Sulu and Chekov's end, but Cho always had a good story to share with the cadets.
Now, Cho was gone as were so many of the others who had crossed Sulu's path at the Academy. Only one in five faces of his graduating class were alive. Sulu was a young man, these morbid thoughts should not weigh so heavy on his heart. And yet, here he was watching stars go by alone with nothing but thoughts of the dead to rumbling in his mind.
"He vould not hawe vanted you to be sad, Hikaru." Chekov had finally found his friend.
Snarling in disdain, Sulu whirled to face the younger man. "I am sad, Chekov! They are dead! All of those people died and are gone forever!" He stepped closer, his dark eyes flashing. "No one deserved to be slaughtered like that. Cho did not deserve that." He growled through gritted teeth.
Chekov nodded. "I know, but Cho and ze rest vent down as heroes." Innocence and unfailing love shined in those hazel eyes staring back at Sulu.
The mists in Chekov's eyes extinguished Sulu's anger just as quickly as it had come. "You're right, Pav." Pulling the younger man into a tight hug, Sulu held Chekov as he cried. This release was much overdue. They had tried to keep their emotions tightly wrapped, but it was time to let them come undone.
Clutching Sulu's dirty golden tunic, Chekov tried to swallow down his tears. "Zey are gone, but ve are not. Ve hawe to keep on going, for zem." Sulu nodded in agreement. "Ve liwe now as testament to zem, let us not forget." He sniffled pulling away from the taller man's embrace.
Taking a deep breath, Sulu put both hands on Chekov's shoulders. "Gone but not forgotten. Ever." He could only whisper, his throat tight with emotion.
Turning, both men faced the window, Sulu's arm resting on Chekov's slender shoulders as they watched the stars streak across the horizon. Space was the final frontier, and the Enterprise forged on to keep the dream of those who were called before their time safe. Duty, honor, friendship did not stop when one solider departed, his fellow crew remained loyal for all time. Sulu and Chekov would keep not only Cho but all the others close to their hearts as long as they drew breath.
A/N: Thanks for reading.
It helped to get it all out. I hope you could enjoy it. Not quite my normal, but thought I'd share any way.