Author's Note: This story was co-authored by Not Days but Knights and KettleAndString. We do not own the rights to any Star Trek related titles, names, ideas, etc. nor is this written for profit.
Enjoy!
Chapter One: A Small Trip
Captain's Log: Stardate 2267.6. Having just escaped an entanglement with Klingons and their furry tribble nemeses, the crew has been feeling a bit restless. I, too, have felt a bit more exhausted than usual, but we will carry on as we always do. Now our mission is much simpler than Klingons and tribbles: we are awaiting orders from Starfleet. And so, we wait.
Sulu was growing impatient. His fingers drummed restlessly on the Enterprise's control panel as he awaited orders from Captain Kirk. Although he was quite relieved that there weren't any more tribbles crawling about the bridge, he had to admit that he missed having a source of excitement. Now, the bridge felt static, quiet and dull.
Pavel Chekov, his friend and co-pilot, made a sudden movement on Sulu's right. Sulu turned to see what Chekov was up to only to be disappointed at the sight of Chekov scratching his nose. Shaking his head slightly, he turned back to stare at the buttons on the control panel, which were mocking him with their blinking lights.
"Well," the small ensign's voice broke the stale air, "at least there aren't any of those… tribbles on the bridge anymore." He chuckled awkwardly.
"Yes," Sulu replied good-naturedly, glad to have something to distract him, "though the Captain still seems a bit wary every time he sits down…"
They laughed quietly to themselves for a few moments and then trailed into silence again. This is madness, Sulu thought, sitting here for no good reason.
After a moment, Sulu turned to his friend and said in a low, conspiratorial tone, "Hey, what do you say we take a bit of a cruise? It's not as if we have anywhere to go…"
Chekov gave him a puzzled look. "But…surely the Captain will notice? And he hasn't given us any orders…I do not think that is a good idea."
Sulu let out an exasperated sigh. "Come on, Pavel. Spock and Dr. Mccoy are with the Captain in his quarters, and you know they won't be back for a while. I'm tired of just sitting here waiting for orders."
Chekov looked glumly at the control panel. The bright lights, the low hum of the computers – everything suddenly seemed inviting. It was so easy just to start the low-impulse thrusters… He glanced nervously at Uhura behind him; she seemed to be the only one with something to do. She was quickly pressing buttons, flipping switches; listening intently for a sound or source of action. Relieved, Chekov turned back to Sulu and smiled nervously.
"Well…maybe for just a small trip…"
Sulu grinned. The sense of motivation that had been drained from him rose in his fingertips. "Thrusters at the ready," he said, tapping the control panel. Immediately he felt the Enterprise's engines whir below him and watched the viewer as the stars pulled away from him.
He looked over at Chekov again, and was glad to see that his friend was also enjoying their brief joyride. As cautious as Pavel could be, Sulu knew that he had a healthy sense of adventure. Perhaps that's why we get along so well, Sulu thought.
Suddenly, Mr. Scott's voice crackled through one of the communicators: "Captain? Is there any particular reason why the engines have increased their power? We're moving at .4 warp."
Sulu and Chekov froze for a moment and exchanged a horrified look. Sulu felt a twinge of guilt; it would be his fault if the Captain blamed Chekov for Sulu's little act of disobedience. Scotty's call remained unanswered. Sulu heard Uhura turn around in her chair behind him, and his heart raced slightly.
Uhura looked at her friends, confused. She had felt the ship move and heard the roaring of the engines over her communicator. Her sharp hearing had given her a knack for detecting trouble. Slowly, she rose from her seat and approached the Captain's chair.
"Hello? Hello?" Scotty's voice rang anxiously from the engine room over the communicator.
"Hello, Scotty," Uhura said. She looked at Chekov and Sulu's backs, watching as their fingers moved nimbly across the control panel, their shoulders hunched suspiciously low. "Lieutenant Uhura speaking. The Captain is still with Mr. Spock and Dr. McCoy in his quarters. I'm looking into our change in velocity, stand by."
"What do you two think you're doing?" she demanded.
Slowly, both Sulu and Chekov turned in their chairs to face Uhura. Neither pilot responded. Chekov's face was turning a shade of bright red and he was hunched low in his seat, his eyes on the floor. Sulu was wearing a sheepish grin that looked as though it had been poorly plastered onto his face. Uhura raised one eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.
"We were just taking a little trip," Sulu said dismissively. "It's been a bit quiet around here, and so we thought: what would it hurt to make things a bit more interesting?"
"A bit more interesting! A bit more interesting?" They looked to see an outraged Dr. McCoy emerging from the elevator with Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock close behind. "So what you're saying is that having our entire ship infested with asexually reproducing balls of fluff wasn't interesting enough for you, Mr. Sulu? Is that what I'm to understand here?"
"Calm down, Bones, I'll handle this," Kirk said quietly, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. Spock stood serenely at the entrance to the bridge, observing impassively as always. Sulu and Chekov turned slowly towards the front of the bridge as their Captain strode over to the control panel to face them. Though Sulu's grin had faded, he still felt a strange sense of calm. When he looked over to Chekov, however, he saw that his friend was utterly terrified. Sulu prepared himself to speak first, knowing that he must take responsibility for the incident. As he opened his mouth, however, Chekov had already begun to speak.
"Sir, we were— I thought maybe—" Chekov struggled with speech, torn between telling the truth and protecting his friend.
"Yes, Mr. Chekov?" Kirk turned his head slightly with a bemused smile.
Sulu tried to speak, but once again Chekov was too quick. "Captain, we were—we wanted to…" Chekov took a deep breath: "We wanted to take a small trip and we thought you wouldn't notice and we thought perhaps it would not matter and it was my idea and we are very, very, sorry, Captain." The words had come pouring out of him like a life-changing confession. Yet it wasn't really a confession: it was mostly a lie.
Sulu stared at his friend, amazed. Pavel Chekov, obedient, upstanding, loyal Pavel Chekov was taking the blame for Sulu's stupid idea! Now his calm had completely dissipated, replaced by an overwhelming sense of guilt.
The Captain frowned and stared down at the young ensign. "A little trip, Mr. Chekov?"
"Yes, Captain," he replied quietly.
"Mr. Sulu, is this correct?"
Sulu felt his eyes widen despite himself. He found himself in a moral conundrum: telling the truth now would get Chekov in trouble for lying, but telling Chekov's lie would still get Chekov in trouble. Chekov had boxed himself in, and in doing so, had left Sulu trapped, too. So much for taking the fall!
"Yes, it's true, Captain." He felt utter shame for sealing his friend's fate, but was helpless regardless. He heard Chekov take a short, harsh breath, but refused to look his friend in the eye. Sulu had the impression that Chekov's fury was boring holes into the side of his head.
"Well, Mr. Sulu and Mr. Chekov, I hope you understand that on some Starships, disobeying direct orders could be interpreted as an act of mutiny," Kirk said, his frown deepening.
"Mu—mu—mutiny, Captain?" Chekov stammered, aghast. Sulu swallowed, leaving a dry feeling in his mouth. His palms suddenly felt sweaty against the control panel, but he couldn't muster the courage to open his mouth or even to wipe his hands.
"Yes, Mr. Chekov. However, in this case, I know that neither of you have mutinous intentions. Far from it. In fact, I believe that both of you are merely in need of some distraction, just like the rest of us. I think this would be a wonderful time for the crew to be granted shore leave, don't you agree, Mr. Spock?"
Spock raised an eyebrow. "Captain, do you really think granting shore leave is the wisest response to this situation? We are still awaiting orders from Starfleet Command, and I believe that Mr. Sulu and Mr. Chekov's infraction is not one to be taken lightly."
"Oh, come now, Spock," Dr. McCoy said dismissively. "Shore leave is just what we all need right about now. I'm sure even you would benefit from some time off."
"Although it is against my better judgment, I must admit that it is logical to take shore leave between assignments—"
"Well, then it's decided!" Kirk said brightly. "I've been looking at journals for vacation spots on Earth. I think it's time that we tried our hand at camping. I've read that Yosemite National Park is perfect for that. What do you say, Mr. Spock?"
Spock paused for a moment, apparently pensive. "The United States National Park System has existed for over 400 years. It is an exemplary sample of human culture and survivalism. Founded by President Theodore Roosevelt, it is home to a diverse array of wildlife and wildflower—"
"And is a great way to get the green-blooded hobgoblin to be quiet for once," Dr. McCoy said with a smirk. "I'm in."
"Very well then, Yosemite it is," the Captain said, delighted. "Mr. Sulu, set a course for Earth. Mr. Spock, notify the rest of the crew that they will be taking their shore leave sooner than expected."
As Kirk sat down confidently in the Captain's chair, Sulu could only keep his head low and focus on setting the course for Earth. He wanted to say something – anything – to Chekov, but when he turned to him and saw a stony expression on his face, he knew that was out of the question.