Hikaru Sulu tended to stay on the down low working on the bridge. However, he took great delight in exploring the Enterprise, and its crew. One evening in particular, Sulu was manning his usual post at the helm along with the navigator, Pavel Chekov. They had just departed from Starbase Eleven for maintenance, and now proceeded on a rather uneventful journey to a Federation colony. The dythium crystal engine hummed methodically, a noise which calmed and relaxed the lieutenant in a way he couldn't understand. The stars twinkled through the display monitor. This was where he felt at home.
"Keep her steady on this course. Good work you two," said Captain Kirk to both Chekov and Sulu as he turned over command for the night shift.
"Vill do, Keptin," answered the beaming Russian.
"Aye sir," said Sulu in turn.
Spock rose from his science read out without prompt and approached the captain's chair. Kirk gave his first officer a look of trust mixed with humor.
"Don't mess her up now, Spock."
The Vulcan raised an eyebrow.
"Captain, I have taken command of the Enterprise during night hours for 6 months, 3 weeks, 5 days, 17 hours, and 56 minutes. No harm has come to this vessel in that span of time, and it will not likely—"
"Spock. I'm joking."
Sulu and Chekov had to use a large amount of willpower to hold back smiles. They had seen the best exchanges of their captain and first officer, and tonight was no different.
Kirk stood up and held out a hand towards the chair.
"You have the con."
Spock nodded and sat down, his eyes focused even after a long day's work. Sulu made the minute correction in their latitude required for a straight course without much effort.
"Goodnight, gentlemen," said the captain as he left down the turbolift.
The three of them remained on the bridge, with only the chirps of the control panel filling the silence. Sulu had learned that Spock preferred a quiet atmosphere over mindless chatter, and thus kept conversation to a minimum. However, Chekov was a different story.
"Mistier Spock, do you like commanding at night more zan being za science officer?"
Spock answered without averting his eyes.
"My preference is of no importance, Ensign."
Dead silence. Sulu desperately thought about voicing a status report, but that would be meaningless. Chekov tried again.
"I wreely enjoy naawigating zis ship," he glanced at Sulu with pleading eyes, hoping for some back-up.
Sulu looked at him incredulously. Does he have a death wish? Well, something had to be done if they wanted to maintain respect with their superior. And Chekov needed help, fast.
He took a short breath and handled the controls as casually as possible.
"So I heard you discovered an anomaly in the ship's memory core the other day, sir?"
Sulu instantly regretted his comment. Really? The memory core? Was that the best he had?
"Indeed. The mechanics at Starbase Eleven failed to discover a malfunction of the Enterprise's cartography display. I routinely run diagnostics after such repairs to ensure the work was done in its entirety. Evidently, it was not," said Spock.
Chekov and Sulu looked at each other in delightful surprise.
"Well then, it's a good thing we have someone to get the job done right," remarked an astonished Sulu.
"Yis, I agree completevy," added Chekov.
The three Starfleet officers continued to converse on various topics: the best way to navigate a roundabout through a magnetic asteroid field, tips on blending certain recipes to program into the food processor, and so on. Sulu and Spock eventually reached a mutually favored subject.
"My recent experiment with several Vulcan orchids proved quite fascinating. I concluded the plant bloomed more rapidly within an intergalactic environment, yet it possessed a much shorter lifespan than of those bred on Vulcan," said Spock, with an even but light tone.
Sulu turned from his post to face Spock with an eager expression.
"What did you use to fertilize it? Oh, and how much moisture did you expose them to compared to Vulcan's dry atmosphere?"
The two of them exchanged findings on the growth of their botany subjects, while Chekov slowly but surely nodded off into sleep.
"So as you can see, the rate of growth was not affected by the-"
Sulu was cut off by a loud snore.
"Ensign," said Spock.
More snoring.
"Ensign Chekov," repeated Spock, his voice slightly raised.
A few snorts. Sulu closed his eyes in irritance.
"Pavel Andreievich Chekov!" shouted Sulu.
The enisgn's eyes flew open like lightning.
"Vhat?! Vhat is it? Am I in Russia?"
Spock rose out of the captain's chair to his full height and faced Chekov directly.
"No Ensign, you are aboard the U.S.S Enterprise. You were attending to your post as the night watch navigator until you most inconsiderately fell asleep. I warn you that such an action is extremely illogical."
Both helmsman and navigator fell silent.
"I-I'm sorry, Commandir," said Chekov weakly.
The control panel blinked an alert. 0200 hours.
Spock clasped his hands rigidly behind his back.
"Your shift has been completed. Dismissed."
Chekov shuffled out somberly behind Sulu, who handed over control of the helm to the arriving green shirt. The turbolift's pneumatic doors swept shut as Sulu told the computer their destination.
"Deck 18."
The turbolift hummed to life and shuttled downward, with light flashing through the windows periodically. The noise died down as the officers approached their destination. Chekov headed for the door.
"Computer, halt," said Sulu.
Chekov looked at him with dejected eyes.
"Vhat, do you vant to call me out like Mistier Spock?"
"Not at all, Chekov."
"Then can I go?"
Sulu looked at the turbolift's dark floor for a moment.
"Listen, it'll be ok. Spock just runs a tight ship, and we've all messed up at some point or another. Remember that time when Doctor McCoy tripped an alarm and got stuck in a Jeffery's tube?"
Chekov let out a chuckle.
"He vas furious with Scotty for no reason. It vas wreely entertaining."
"I steered clear of the doctor for a few days after that. Boy, was he in some kind of mood."
A comfortable silence passed as they remembered the face of Doctor McCoy shouting across the deck, "Alright, Spock, if this was your fault you'll be sorry! Or was it you, Scott? I'm gonna find out some way or another."
"Computer, resume," said Sulu.
The turbolift doors opened to an empty Deck 18. Chekov headed out to his quarters, with his normal grin restored.
"Goodnight, Sulu," he said with a wave.
"Get some rest, sleepy head," said Sulu, crossing his arms.
"Hey don't-"
The turbolift shut abruptly as Sulu laughed. Chekov would be fine.
"Time to hit the sack," said the tired helmsman to himself. "Deck 15."
As Sulu entered his quarters, he adjusted the samurai sword he had sitting on his dresser, and dimmed the lights. After shoving a load of unfinished reports off his bed, he flopped down on the soft sheets and exhaled. The porthole on the wall to Sulu's right revealed soft starlight that reflected off the glass containers that held many different flowers and ferns. The stars became dimmer and dimmer as he drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
~~End~~
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