The Furnace
Summary: Friendships are forged, but will they stand the testing? Ensign Chekov adjusts to bridge life, and gets to know his shipmates. But when disaster strikes, how will the bonds stand the strain? Chekov, Sulu, Scotty, Uhura, and the gang.
Thanks SO much for the reviews! I love you all! wipes tears from eyes
The Almighty Panamint: Thank you, Oh most loyal of reviewers! Please, continue to read!
Kame-sama: The whole traumatic child hood explains a lot, don't it? If, no, WHEN I finish this story I think I'll write a few short stories, but that won't be for a LONG time yet! Glad you like the Sulu-Chekov friendship.
Aly L: Thank you for the review! To tell the truth, I've only seen about three episodes with Chekov, including 'Catspaw'. EGAD! The hair:P Still, he's really impudent, even then...
Stormyrose: OH PLEASE PLEASE GIVE ME THE CHEKOV PLUSHIE! PLEEEEASE!
Anyway, on with the story...
"Captain, if I may ask, is there a certain reason that this Ensign Chekov was assigned to the ship?" asked Spock, as he, Kirk and McCoy sat in the empty briefing room. Kirk made it a policy to meet with his two friends at least one evening a week to share their concerns, suggestions, and observations with each other. After Kirk had shared the story of Callahan and Chekov, McCoy had snorted, but Spock had looked thoughtful, even pensive.
Kirk leaned back in his chair and paused before he answered. "On my last cadet review, I was looking over files. As you know, each captain is allowed to hand-pick a small number of cadets, and then the rest are divvied up. Chekov stood out with his natural ability for navigations; he had almost beat the Kobayashi Maru."
"He went in, suspicious and ready, and was close to the Svesta, when the Romulans appeared. He began giving orders, but he began speaking in Russian and Standard. With no one understanding him, he took the place at the helm himself and managed to destroy two of the birds-of-prey, but the last one destroyed the ship."
"But it wasn't just his navigational ability that stood out. Reading his Academy record, there was something about him, an unorthodox, grab-the-bull-by-the-horns attitude that put him apart from his classmates. I guess that was what I was looking for."
"Like yourself," interrupted McCoy, a teasing glint in his eye. "Two stubborn, purpose-driven, radical men on the same ship. We'll never last."
"Shut up, Bones."
"I just hope, Jim, that your protégée will learn to control himself."
Kirk gave a smile. "Mr. Spock, since control of emotions is YOUR strong point, I leave that area of training to you." Spock merely raised his eyebrows. McCoy knew if it had been him, he'd have launched into a passionate tirade. He guessed that's why Chekov was going to Spock, not him.
The next day on the Alpha shift, Chekov was the last one there. Giving a small cheeky smile, he nearly ran past Kirk to his consule. He noted with grim satisfaction that his adjustments were still in place.
"So nice of you to join us this morning, Mr. Chekov. I hope you will get your chronometer fixed," Kirk commented loudly, making the young man's face go red.
"Clocks vere a Russian inwention," he muttered quietly. Nobody picked it up except Sulu, who suddenly succumbed to a violent coughing fit. Chekov thumped him on the back til it subsided. When he recovered, he was blinking tears from his eyes. Kirk gave him a concerned look.
Chekov quickly brought the focus from his helmpartner to the business at hand. "Keptin, we are approaching Senora II."
"Bring her out of warp, Mr Sulu." the screen shifted to show a grey rock. Well, that's what it looked like, anyway. Small and unimpressive, Senora II seemed almost unworthy of a visit from the renowned Enterprise.
"Uhura, hail the city's communication base. Use standard frequency." Uhura bent to her consule. "Mr Chekov, plot an orbiting course. Sulu, bring her in." The bridge crew worked seamlessly, Chekov noted as his fingers nimbly played over his chart. They seemed to anticipate their captain's orders, and Kirk knew it. He finished quickly, it had been very simple, but he felt rather disconnected from the rest of the bridge. He was not yet one of them.
"Message coming in, sir! It's from the city's head councilman."
"Put it onscreen."
The large window in front changed from it's stellar view to show the head of a man. Chekov stared in fascination at the rough figure before him. His thick clothing was dark, and his whole person was covered in a thin layer of dirt. His weather-beaten face was weathered and tough, and his eyes were sharp and old, like he had seen all the hardships life had to offer.
"Captain, can you hear me?"His voice was deep and commanding, demanding the attention of all listening.
"Yes, we can hear you. Go ahead."
"I am Jorrel, the head of the Council of Miners. I would be honored if you would come to a conference with my council, this evening at 1800. There, we will be able to explain our reason for asking your assistance, as it is of highest secrecy."
"I would be honored." Kirk's face did not show any surprise at this unusual request.
"You may find that bringing a good helmsman and sailing master would be beneficial," continued Jorrel. "We have made hybrid vehicles that are very difficult to use. Jorrel out." As the contact broke, Kirk was in action. Leaving his chair, he issued orders.
"Chekov, Sulu, Mr Spock come with me. Uhura, contact Security and tell them I want three of their best and have them meet me in the Briefing Room."
Quickly, Sulu, Spock and Chekov followed their captain to the lift. Kirk noticed that Chekov tensed when he had shifted nearer to him. Finally the turbolift opened and they entered the briefing room.
Waiting for them was the ubiquitous McCoy and three security personnel; an older woman, a lean man, and Callahan. Everyone took their seats, except Kirk, who pushed a button and a hologram sprung to life.
"Quickly going over Serenoa's properties. The air has thinner oxygen content than we are accustomed to, therefore your usual physical limits will be lowered. The thin atmosphere results in extreme heat in the day and freezing temperatures at night. Very sparse vegetation and indigenous life forms, and high winds. Unusual orbit."
"We have been invited to meet with the mining council. I trust you all will be alert and ready for anything. You have two hours to prepare. Meet at Transporter Two at 1740. Dissmissed."
As they filed out of the room, Callahan sent Chekov a look conveying that the night before was anything but forgotten. The hate that radiated from him was almost tangible. His impertinence surfacing, Chekov gave a scornful look back and went to his room before Callahan had a chance to react.
Entering his room, he turned on his computer, which announced in it's irritating voice, "One message received. Visual only." His face broke into a huge smile. That could mean only one thing. His uncles had written. "Transmit," he said, sitting down in front of the screen. An image of a letter, written in Cyrillic, appeared. It read, in Russian,
Dearest Pasha,
How is ship life? Half the town wishes to know. We hope you are doing well.
Yesterday we had a huge storm. The snowdrift was up to the roof. Kochka kept us up the whole night, barking. She does it every year at first snow. Russians were the first to breed dogs, and our Kochka is the best of them all. She misses her Pasha.
That old bat, Natasha, got the nerve to go and tell us that we were responsible for the demise of her cow. It's a wonder the beast didn't die five years ago. But she maintains that Kochka is the guilty party. How, no one has a clue. The thing died of old age.
We are planning the first wolf-hunt of the winter. Pioter, Boris, Gregori, and their boys have already said they will come, as the Russian man is the best hunter. Kochka is excited, as are the other dogs in the town. They know when the snow falls, there is a chase.
We are proud of our explorer. Someday you will be as great as Yuri Gagarin. We think of you daily and send our love.
Good luck, Pasha, and always remember: You are a Russian.
Your Uncles,
Yuri and Yoni
Chekov smiled. He remembered Kochka, his uncles' borzoi. He had named her "cat", when he was twelve, and the animal now answered to nothing else. He missed her, too. She had slept with him every night after his mother's death, when he had gone to live with his uncles. At six years old, she was the best dog in Russia, as far as he was concerned.
There was a knock at his door, and it turned out to be Sulu. Chekov waved him in, smiling.
"You ready for your first mission?" Sulu asked, sitting on the bed.
"It is not my first mission," Chekov stated, still looking over his letter. "I acted as Science Officer once, and I vent on two avay teams."
"Wow. Still, even after a year, I get a bit nervous beaming down. Not like McCoy, though. He hates beaming anywhere, and he always complains. Say, what you looking at?"
Chekov jumped, then smiled. "A letter from my uncles." He then read it to Sulu. While this would not have been a big deal coming from anyone else, they both knew this was an act of friendship. When Chekov finished, Sulu smiled.
"It's not hard to see where you got your nationalistic pride." Chekov reflexively gave him a light punch in the arm. Sulu made a show of cradling the injured limb and gave a melodramatic scowl at Chekov, who smiled innocently back.
Checking his chronometer, Sulu dropped all attempts at drama and gave a start. "Come on, we got twenty minutes to get to the transporter!"
Both young men were slightly out of breath when they got the pad. Kirk gave them one of his disproving looks.
"Now that we're all here, would you be so kind as to issue out the equipment, Callahan?"
"Yes sir." He passed out a phaser to each member of the landing party. He gave Sulu and the older woman tricorders in addition. As he gave Chekov his, he growled,
"Watch your back, Commie trash."
Chekov would have belted the man upside the head, but the eye of his captain restrained him. He managed to ignore the grevious insult, and silently vow that he would pay the man back. His thoughts were broken by the sharp command, "Mr Kyle, six to beam down."
They all took their places.
"Energize."
And the world shimmered out of focus.
Well? What do you think? (Answer by pushing the blue button... now! Okay, now! Okay...)