Chapter four

Abduction

"The ambassador is beaming down to the planet with his son now, captain." Spock told Jim. They were both on the bridge. Jim looked across at his first officer and nodded.

"Right. Shall we go and see him off?" he asked to anyone who was listening. Him and Spock stood up and walked off the bridge together. They didn't have a choice in the matter. If they had, they would have acknowledged the fact that he was leaving as a signal to start a party! Kirk took the lead as they entered the transporter room. They both went and stood behind the console where two redshirts were beaming down the ambassador's possessions. "I hope you found your stay on the Enterprise enjoyable and that you have no serious complaints about any member of the crew or their conduct." It was a standard leaving speech that every captain had to know. Jim was shocked when ambassador Drogaff came forward and spoke to him.

"Well, I would like to list ways in which my stay could have been made, more endurable, but erm, let's get to business. That young man that hit my son, what is happening to him?" he said it in a genuine enough tone but Jim still didn't trust him.

"He is being punished; you don't have to worry about that." Jim replied with an edge to his voice. He was obviously still outraged that Chekov hadn't let him help. Jim glanced at Spock momentarily who just returned his stare.

"Ah, well. That's everything. It was nice to have met you captain Kirk." He said as he walked onto the beaming pad where his son was stood waiting. They politely waited until the yellow columns of molecules had disappeared before leaving for the bridge.

At the end of the shift, Spock went up to the captain and asked if he was going to let Chekov out of the brig. "Do you want to let the whole ship know where Chekov is?" kirk asked angrily. "As far as anyone else is concerned, he is confined to his quarters. Got it Spock?"

"Yes captain. I was unaware that he was only confined to quarters." Spock improvised quickly. Sulu was approaching them with an exasperated expression on his face.

"How long is Chekov going to be confined for captain?" he asked. He sounded as if he'd just had a huge argument with someone.

"Does it concern you Mr Sulu?" the captain asked him. His tone told the crew that his patience was running thin.

"Not directly, but I cannot work with his replacement at all." He said as he gestured behind him toward the navigator who had replaced the Russian.

"Why does that matter with your duties?"

"Well, it doesn't, but, erm, you once told me that the helm and navigation need to be able to co-operate in any situation, or the ship won't run. Well, to be frank, I can't work with him, and you've noted yourself that the ship isn't running like it usually does."

Kirk took this in for a minute. He remembered only too well the day he had told Sulu that. He had just appointed him as permanent helmsman and he had been looking for a new navigator seeing as Riley had been transferred to the Farragut. He'd told Sulu that he needed to choose a navigator from a list of names he should know, and he needed to get along with him. Sulu had looked at the names for about a minute before he'd chosen Chekov. Jim told himself that memory lane was closed. He needed to think about the problem. He knew the solution, but wasn't prepared to let Chekov out of the brig. He looked at Sulu and sighed.

"I'll see what I can do. Alright?" Kirk gave a small smile to Sulu as he walked off. He looked back at Spock who spoke freely now they were alone.

"Captain, with your permission, I will go and check on him. He was in quite a state when he went in." kirk had a silent chuckle to himself. He shook his head in disbelief.

"Spock," he started, laughter written all over his face, "You know you don't have to ask! Just go!" kirk smiled at the Vulcan. Sometimes Spock underestimated his rights as a first officer. Spock briefly nodded before heading toward the brig.

Well, at least the captain is back to himself. He must've finally seen sense. Spock thought as he came up to the brig. He still couldn't see the logic in leaving Chekov in the brig. It had been five days now. Nobody had even thought to check on him. Spock almost felt sorry for him. Snap out of it, he told himself. That would be showing emotion, and that is illogical. Spock walked silently around the corner and unlocked the door. He peered into the dark cell to see…

"Spock to captain, you are immediately needed here." He spoke into the ship wide intercom and then waited for Jim to appear…

"What do you mean he's gone Spock?" Jim asked as he rounded the bend and stopped in front of his science officer. Jim could hardly believe that Chekov had found a way to break out. The brig had been tested by Spock. If he couldn't break out, no-one could.

"I mean, he is not in there anymore." Spock said in a matter-of-fact tone. Jim rolled his eyes and looked around the cell. Much to his surprise, Spock was right. There was nobody here. But there were no clues as to how he got out either. Everything was intact, not a thing out of place. It didn't even look as if he had been in here at all. He looked round at Spock, the confusion plain on his face.

"Could Bones have taken him out? On medical grounds?" Jim asked his first officer.

"Negative captain. I have already spoken to the doctor and he claims he hasn't left sickbay or ordered anyone to release him." Spock was surprised the doctor hadn't objected to Chekov being shut in there. He usually demanded that anyone, crew or not, was not left in the brig for more than six hours because it was full of diseases just waiting to be caught. He looked at the captain as he inspected the brig for the second time. "He has definitely not broken out. Unless… captain somebody on the outside could have aided him." A look of outrage crossed Jim's face.

"Spock, nobody knows he was here! Who would have helped him anyway?" Jim spoke with anger in his voice. I trusted Chekov with my life! I can't believe he'd repay my trust like this! One part of his mind thought. Another part thought differently. Well he obviously has! I should find him and just lock him up in shackles! That way he couldn't do anything else! Or I could let him go. He'd eventually die! That's what he deserves after what he's done!

Jim tried to push the last thought away. Chekov had his reasons and, knowing the Russian, they were probably very good reasons that would make anyone else do the same. If only Chekov had told someone but no, he had kept it locked up inside him. Jim refocused his mind. He had to find him now! Even if Jim felt betrayed, Chekov was a part of his crew and he needed to be located. "Spock, I need you to set up search teams through-out every section of the ship. They need to be in groups, never one on their own, and they need to be on constant guard. If Chekov is on the ship, he is going to be hiding so send out scouts as-well." Jim said. It felt strange, giving out orders to hunt down one of his most trusted crew members.

"Yes Captain, when do they start?" Spock asked. At least Jim could always count on Spock.

"Immediately, Spock, we need to find him fast."

Chekov knew he stood no chance of getting away until he was off the ship. After that, his main problem would be getting back to the ship. After what felt like hours, the end of the bag was opened slightly. The gap was only small enough for him to breathe through. His half-brother leaned over the hole and looked down on him, a horrible smile stuck on his face.

"We're leaving now!" he said sweetly. "And if you dare give away that you're in here, you will know about it!" he continued, his tone getting less civilised with every word he uttered. "I don't suppose you remember how tragically your father died do you? Only being four and that." His voice was light but Pavel understood the meaning. They would kill him if he dared to try and attract any attention. His bother laughed hollowly before shutting out daylight once again.

Pavel could still hear them talking loudly about a bomb. He wasn't frightened; they were only trying to scare him into doing what they wanted. He felt them shoving the bag into another case. After that he couldn't hear anything. The bag he was in was picked up suddenly and Pavel had to really focus to avoid chucking up. The bag was placed gently onto the beaming pad and left. He heard the captain saying goodbye to the ambassador. Doubts if he was doing the right thing came into his head. He was so close to being discovered. If only Kirk would hear him if he tried to speak. He decided not to. The bomb could be real and if it was, it would wipe out the entire room. He couldn't risk that. If anything happened to the captain because of him he would never forgive himself. He stayed absolutely still until he felt the familiar sensation of beaming.

As soon as they appeared on earth, Pavel started to kick out. He was determined to get out of this bag. Sure enough, they let him out straight away. He fell onto soft green grass. He was surrounded by trees. A few metres in front of him, there was a busy main road. Just off to one side was a large bush and in front of it, an ageing woman, on one knee. She was praying. She took a small box out of a small green bag that was sat next to her on the grass before gesturing for them to go closer. The Klingons grabbed the back of Pavel's shirt in their fists and dragged him to his feet. They pushed him forward and he took an awkward step with his dislocated knee. After about three minutes, they reached the woman who came toward them with her arms outstretched.

"Oh my boy! My dear child! You remembered to come back! My little boy has flown home! It's wonderful to see you child!" she spoke fluent Russian at a really quick pace. After seven years away from his homeland, Pavel found it hard to understand. It was then that he started to recognise the sad smile, the soft baby blue eyes and the long auburn locks that fell loosely around her face.

"Mother!" Pavel gasped, all the features tugging at his memories. "What are you doing here?" he still couldn't quite believe the woman standing in front of him was the same person who'd raised him. When he had been four, before the "accident", her face had been soft and beautiful; the only lines had been lines of joy and laughter, gathered around her eyes. Every time he'd looked into her eyes, they had been laughing, full of happiness and just enjoying life as it came. Her dazzlingly white skin had been like touching silk and it had always smelled fresh and clean, like a woman's flesh should. He tried to take in all the changes. Her once dazzling eyes were now faded and the spirit in them, the flame of her life, had been crushed, there was nothing there anymore. They were just empty windows. The colour of her hair had started to fade to grey and her smile, her smile had been sad and lonely since the day of the accident. She'd never quite got over it fully.

"It has been twenty years, my love." She spoke softly as she reached up and gently touched her surviving son's face, just grazing his cheek. Then she turned round to a mass congregation of people. Pavel recollected some faces from his child-hood and others, he was quite certain he had never met before. Many of the people held bouquets of flowers, with messages tagged on the side of them. "Twenty years ago to this day," she told the group of people, "we shared a tragic loss, a loss, so deep, we will never forget. On this day, the 23rd of November, Andrei Chekov, a dear friend, father and husband, lost his life in a terrible car accident on this road. So today, we gather here, together, to remember his life and all that it meant, to him, and to the people that were his very soul, us. Here we stand today, to spread one more handful of his ashes on the wind, and to remember. We remember the good times only, none of the bad. We shall always remember his duties to his country and what he did for this village and the people in it!" after she had finished speaking, there was a two minute silence which Pavel hated. Whenever the silence came on this day, he was overwhelmed by the terror etched deep in his memory. This same piece of earth, where he was standing now, twenty years ago. Pitch black surrounding him, he had trusted the klingon. He was guiding Pavel home. They had reached the road. They stopped. His car had come down the road at a sensible speed. He turned his head to look at the other side of the barrier. "Stop!" he cried out…

The whole group of people repeated the last line. Pavel couldn't get the words out. They jammed in his throat. This was too disturbing. He had to get away. When all the people had laid flowers and cards or whatever memoirs they were leaving had returned into one group, his mother, Larisa, gently took the lid off the small, hand-crafted wooden box and left it on the ground. Her hand was visibly shaking as she removed one handful of ash and replaced the lid. She gently scattered it over the bush, the cards, and flowers that were laid right up to the roads edge. Larisa bent her head low as she paid her respects. On any other day of year, he would have been able to mourn his father. But not today. On the ship, he would just be withdrawn and silent for four days, as a mark of respect, only breaking it if he had to. Most of the crew wouldn't question it. If any of the senior officers had ever questioned it, Sulu had quickly caught on to the situation and had explained it as Russian grieving. If there was one person on board that hadn't got over how he remained silent, it was the captain. He tried not to think about the enterprise. Knowing he would never work on her again made him even more depressed. His eyes scanned over the flowers and cards quickly, he was only looking for those with one name, his brother's. Piotr Chekov, one of Pavel's only two secrets. He saw a couple of cards being laid down with his name on them. He knew Piotr would disapprove of this, he always hated anything for him but that's why Pavel never let him escape his thoughts.

Pavel imagined what he would say to him here now. Probably something like, "hello my brother, I'm not gonna stay long, this makes me too depressed. Just think before you do anything and see me before you go again." then he'd turn to go then add "and don't trust the Klingon. Never trust the Klingon." he smiled at the thought.

He looked up at his friends and long lost family. Pavel started to move away he couldn't bear this at all. He turned sharply, the Klingons were nowhere in sight. Where were they? He heard screams of shock and anger mingle with each other from behind him. What the hell is going on? He thought as he whirled around. The sight before him was one he never wanted to see again. Children and parents running, screaming manically. The grass was stained blood red. The Klingons were hacking away with blunt knives.

"You klingon bastards!" Pavel shouted in anger before running toward them…