The next morning, Chekov found his way to the bridge early. With no one there, except a few crew members and the officer of the watch, he was able to relax a bit and get some work done comfortably. He ran a few tests through his consule, fine-tuned the control to his preferences, and read up on the next mission.

It seemed simple. There was a new mining colony on Serenoa II, which was having some problems. The actual conflict was not explained in any communications to StarFleet by their chairperson, but it had been surmised from different hints that it had to do with some sort of outside force. Intrigued, Chekov brought up the statistics for Serenoa II.

A class M planet, with a breathable atmosphere and livable surface, it revolved around two stars, it's pattern that of a figure eight. It had sparse vegetation, due to constant winds on the surface. Those plants that did survive were a kind of tough sage-like brush. There were some animals, mostly reptiles. High mineral and ore traces had promised a good outlook for the miners. Chekov did notice it was near the Neutral Zone. Perhaps that was where the problems had been coming from.

He was about to run a scan for planets and space vessels in the sector, but stopped as soon as he saw Kirk step out of the lift. Kirk walked to behind Chekov's chair and looked at his work. Chekov stiffened. He did not like people behind his back

The captain did not seem to notice, though, and commented, "Doing your homework, I see. Very good. And what's this about a party that Scotty's throwing for you tonight?"

Chekov went a deep red. "It vas his idea, not mine, sair," he mumbled.

"Well, I, for one, am looking forward to it. Lord knows we have few enough. Mr. Scott is known hold a good party, private or public. How long have you been up here? It's 1600."

Chekov whirled to the chronometer on the wall. Sure enough, the readout was 1601. "Time flies vhen you're having fun,"he said wryly.

He had two hours to prepare himself for Mr. Scott's party. Just the thought made his stomach clench in nervousness. He made a note on his computer to scan, then left the bridge.

In his room, he showered, put on a clean uniform, and went to find Sulu.

Sulu and he met in the hall, much like their first meeting, minus the head bashing.

"Hey. Where have you been today? I ended up spending today with Scotty, getting ready." Sulu gave a mock grimace. "He's so into this party, I had to almost beg him not to put up a welcome banner for you."

"Thank you," Chekov said fervently. "I am nervous as it is. I really don't vant everyone to notice me. And besides, I do not tink he vould haf spelled my name right."

"If you don't want a lot of attention, try to steer clear of Scott towards the end," Sulu advised sagely, but smiling in spite of himself. "He has a bit much from time to time and his tongue loosens."

1800 rolled about. It seemed half the ship was turned out in Rec Room 4. Engineers, security guards, yeomen, officers, doctors, and specialists all milled around, laughing, drinking, and commenting on the food, some of which were Scottish in origin and suspicious in edibility.

By the end of the party, Chekov was sweating and shaking. He had forgotten to eat all day, and he had hated the thought of squeezing into the buffet line. He had made do with a glass of vodka. His discomfort at being in tight proximity with people he did not know had been screaming for him to leave, but Mr. Scott had always managed to bring him back into the thick of it. Several people had tried to start conversations, but he had always discouraged it, remembering to be polite in doing so.

Kirk came over to the table where McCoy was sitting with a smile. "Fine party, eh Bones? Scotty really made this one big bash."

"Yeah, he did," Said McCoy, swirling his julep. "But the guest of honor seems to be having a rough time." He indicated to where the ensign was leaning on a wall, white as paper. "Looks to me like he needs a physical. Tomorrow, or if he passes out before then."

Sulu got up from talking to a crewman and went over Chekov. "Hey. How you holding up?" Chekov turned his head in Sulu's direction, and Sulu noted that his face had a thick sheen of sweat.

"Not wery vell. I tink... I'm going to go to bed." Sulu looked at the clock. 2000.

"Well, alright. Hey, are you okay?" Sulu looked concerned. Chekov had been fine before, but now he looked like hell.

"I am fine, just...Just tired." Chekov gave a weak smile and staggered to the door. After getting out of the rec room, he almost ran for his room.

Uhura noticed the hasty departure of the navigator, as did the others at her table. "Isn't he adorable?" sighed Yeoman Harris. "Those big brown eyes are just SO dreamy."

"He does have a cute face, doesn't he?" mused Yeoman Carey. Uhura rolled her eyes. All these two air heads could think about were men. She admitted that he was somewhat good-looking, but she was too levelheaded to gossip like her fellows.

"Excuse me, ladies, I'm going to talk to Sulu." Anything for intelligent conversation. At least he wouldn't sit and gibber about who was attractive and who was not. Going over to where Sulu was sitting, she noticed he looked worried. Sitting down next to him, she tapped his shoulder.

"Hey. You look a million light years away. What's the matter?" He gave a start.

"Hm, what? Oh, just Chekov didn't look to good when he left. And I'm really tired from spending the whole day helping Scotty with this." He suppressed a huge yawn. "I'll see you tomorrow. 'Night, Uhura."

"Good night, Sulu."

Chekov got into bed. He had turned the temperature down low, and gotten an extra blanket. He always hated sleeping in hot temperatures. Hunger did not help his headache, and only by willing himself to do so did he fall asleep. But even then, there was no relief.

"Pasha, we're going to play the game again, alright? Go hide now, and don't come out! Go!"

"Yes Mama." Running upstairs. Closing the door to the hall closet. Door slamming. Yelling. Boots coming up the stairs. Mama pleading. The closet door being opened. A huge hand grabbing his arm.

Thrown into the hall. Kicked down the stairs. Landing in front of the door. Door locked. Huge hand slapping him. Again. And again. So much pain. Mama screaming. Blackness...