The hall was filled to capacity with both participants and interested onlookers. There were whole families here to witness this historic occasion; the signing of a peace treaty between the Federation, the Klingons, and the Romulans. Sulu was as infected as any of the civilians. He grinned at the person sitting beside him. She gave him a polite look that said she thought he was nuts (but since she was one of his crew she tried not to be too obvious about it). He thought she should be more forgiving of the present speaker who was, Hikaru had to admit, overdoing it a little. He wanted to tell her to relax, to bask in the --
The sudden cacaphonic burst of a dozen staccato explosions shattered his elation.
"Terrorists!" Someone screamed.
There were none in the room yet but half the people were already trampling each other as they stampeded toward the two exits. The other half mostly dove for the cover of their chairs and tried to flatten themselves into the floor. Sulu scanned the room looking for --
Screams rushed from one of the sets of doors and the people near there leaped away to one side to the other. Someone pulled him down so he didn't see who or what had caused that deflection. But he heard clattering footsteps run into the auditorium and down the main aisle. "Nobody move!" a tense voice barked.
Frightened silence answered the order. Only a few small children dared cry. Then another voice, one very familiar to Sulu, calmly and firmly replied, "Put down your veapons. Now!"
No, Pavel! Sulu thought. He couldn't help but stick his head up and peek out. In the middle of the central aisle two traditionally armored Orion Mers fighters faced down a lone Starfleet officer. Though Chekov was standing on the raised platform in the front of the room he seemed very small compared to the two warriors he confronted.
"Put down your weapon, Fed. Or we'll shoot everyone in here!"
Chekov hesitated and grimaced. "Yes, I suppose you vould. All right." His hand moved slowly to his hip. It came away at warp speed. He fired the phaser just a heartbeat before two explosive projectiles slammed into him. But his aim had been true. The two terrorists dropped to the floor, stunned.
"Pavel!" Sulu's bellow echoed through the cavernous hall. He jumped over seats, pushing his way through people slowly recovering their wits and bearings. "Move! Move!" he barked whenever anyone was careless enough to get in his way. Amorphous figures drifting on the stage hid his friend from view. "Move!" he yelled again shoving his way through the crowd gathering there. He heard someone retching, someone who couldn't take --
"Damn you!" he raged when he burst through to where his friend was sprawled on his back. Not one of these bureaucrats was doing anything more than stare. On the other hand there wasn't much anyone could do. Where Chekov's left knee and thigh should have been there was only a mangled mess of gore. His tunic, dark red with blood, hid what Sulu knew were mortal injuries. But he was conscious! Chekov's eyes were open and alert and they settled on Sulu's face. "Pavel, you idiot!" Sulu cried as he fell to his knees at his friend's side. "Do you know what you've done?"
"Dey vould hev killed a lot of people," Chekov explained valiantly. He took a deep breath that dissolved into a weak fit of coughing. "It hurts," he admitted breathlessly.
"I know." Sulu looked up at the stunned faces still milling around. "Dammit! Get a medic!" he raged. A woman ran off.
"Von't help," Chekov commented. And then, losing his bravado, gasped, "Hikaru, stay vit' me."
"You know I will. Take it easy, you're going to be fine." They both knew he was lying. He took Chekov's hand in his. The Russian's fingers twitched slightly and Sulu squeezed the almost limp hand tightly. "Oh Pavel --"
"Please, you write to my parents..." the plea faded weakly.
"Pavel!"
"Please."
"Yes. Yes, I will."
"Good." Chekov blinked slowly. His eyes started to close. Sulu's heart raced. But then Chekov's eyes opened again. "Hikaru, I'm cold. It-it is so cold."
"I know, Pavel." Gently, he lifted his friend's head onto his lap. "Take it easy kid. I've got you." Someone spread a jacket over Chekov's torn body. A kind but useless gesture. Sulu didn't bother to acknowledge it.
The medic appeared then. "Stretcher's on its way," he reported as he began taking his readings. He looked at Sulu and shook his head. The Excelsior's captain kept his face from betraying his despair, hoping Chekov didn't see through it.
"Sulu? Sulu, remember vhen I first came aboard Enterprise?"
"Sure I do," he almost smiled at the memory.
"I vas scared to deat'."
"You were pretty green all right. Just out of the Academy --"
"I'm scared, Sulu, I'm --" again Chekov's fading whisper broke up into ragged, bloody coughs. He was pale as Death herself.
"Don't talk Pavel. I won't leave."
Typically, Chekov ignored the advice. "Everyone all right?"
"Yes, we're all fine."
"I didn't do so badly."
"You did fine." Sulu tried to swallow the hard lump in his throat. He couldn't. He thought he would choke.
"I em scared," the barely audible whisper reiterated.
"I know. But I'm here. I won't -- I won't let anything happen..."
Knowing better, Chekov sighed. His eyes stayed wide open as he stared up at his friend. Neither spoke for a while. Chekov murmured that he was cold and asked Sulu to say good-bye to everyone. He smiled once, to himself it seemed, but it faded quickly...
"I can't see." Chekov announced shortly after that. "Sulu, are you dere?" A hint of panic tainted his weak voice.
"Yes, I --"
"Are you dere? I can't feel anyt'ing any more. Bozhe! Sulu! Sulu! I don't vant to die!" Terror filled his plea.
"Pavel!"
"Mama..." softly, like a prayer, that one last word left Pavel Chekov's lips.
"Pavel!" The Russian lay very still in his arms. Hikaru Sulu wept.
Hikaru Sulu woke in darkness and heard himself crying! He had to take several deep breaths to make himself stop. Damn! What had that dream been about?! He could barely remember any of it but he knew it concerned Pavel Chekov's death. He sat up. Chekov! The kid had taken a really stupid risk! Kirk had included him on a landing party. They'd beamed down to some planet supposedly to rescue a downed trader. But it had been a trap, an ambush. There'd been a grenade -- everyone ran. Except Ensign Chekov. He'd pounced on the thing, scooped it up and hurled it out of their midst. It exploded just as it left his hand. McCoy had said he was lucky he hadn't lost the hand. And his brains as well. There'd been some surgery and the kid did have a concussion. But he was supposed to be all right. Wasn't he? "Ok. I know this is ridiculous --" Sulu swung his legs to the floor and called out, "Lights." He pulled on some clothes and hurried out to sickbay.
Ensign N*Ruth, a medic recently transferred to the Enterprise, was on duty. Sulu grinned sheepishly as her. Her people were distantly related to Vulcans but were far less stingy with their emotions. she smiled back. "So, what's the matter Sulu?"
"I've come to see Chekov."
"He;s asleep."
"It's important."
"Ok," she nodded at a door. "Through there."
Sulu went into the ward. Chekov was the only patient, and he was asleep. Until Sulu's shaking his shoulder woke him up. His sleepy voice murmured thickly in Russian.
"Wake up Pavel. Come on." The helmsman insisted.
"Sulu?" Chekov would have sat up but Sulu's hand on his chest kept him down. "Vhat is it?" His words were slurred.
"Pavel, listen to me. If you ever -- I mean ever -- do anything that stupid again, I'm gonna kill you!"
"Oh. Okay." The reply was still a little fuzzy and more than a little confused.
"I mean it."
"Sure. Fine."
Sulu marched out. Chekov finally woke up completely. He pushed himself up on his good arm. He was alone. He must have been dreaming. He could have sworn Sulu had been here scolding him about something. He fell back down, curled up on his side, and pulled the covers up over his head. Ah, it was nice to have friends, he thought as he fell asleep again.