Sulu closed up the panel in the bulkhead with a satisfied sigh. It was late. Far too late. An hour before he had had a call from a nightshift repair team asking him to come to the Bridge to help reprogram one of the aft thrusters that had gone off line. Sulu had grumbled about having been woken up, but it couldn't be helped. Scotty was working all the hours sent him to finish the repairs started two weeks previously and wasn't to be disturbed on the captain's orders. Sulu had traced the fault back to the bulkhead panel on deck 9. It was easy fix to replace a couple of transducers. He walked over to the nearest communicator and hit the button.

"Sulu to Bridge."

"Crolla here, Sir."

"Tell Cassinerio to get a couple of PTM transducers and come down to Deck 9. It's panel 902-51. It looks like an easy fix as long as he brings variable flux."

"I'll let him know sir"

"Right then. I'm going back to bed."

"Yes, sir. Have a good night – what's left of it."

"Thank you, crewman."

He thumbed off the communication and set off down the deserted corridor and back to the turbolift, stopping when he reached the door. It swished open as his footfall. He was about to step in when a noise caught his attention. Down towards the left a door opened. He could hear voices. One of them sounded like Chekov's. What was he doing in the guest quarters at 2am? Since beaming back up from Triskelion he had spent the day in sickbay being checked over by Dr McCoy. Sulu had been in to see him and he had seemed shaken but well. Not surprising, thought Sulu, after Uhura had recounted his story of how he'd been taken prisoner and escaped. Uhura had been worried about him again though. She thought he had come back in a deep conflict. As first he'd put it down to her usual over-protectiveness of the young ensign. But his behaviour had genuinely disturbed her. He was complaining about not remembering much about his time in between leaving the landing party and waking up in a cell just as Tamoon was releasing him. Nothing about it seemed to add up. Could he be lying? When Sulu had been in to see him in sickbay he kept complaining about a headache. Sulu had taken Nurse Chapel to one side and asked that they could look at him again. Dr McCoy had given him a thorough examination and apart from some unusual brain readings he could only conclude he seemed to be suffering from exhaustion, dehydration and stress – none of which was unusual in his situation. Neither he nor his instruments could see anything else wrong. Chekov had sat in bed, uncomfortable as usual about being confined and having to give samples. That much had been normal. But throughout Sulu's visit he had asked several times about Tamoon and whether she was alright. He was relieved that the captain had allowed her to stay on board while they remained in orbit around the planet. Perhaps he was grateful that she had rescued him – who wouldn't be? But this concern seemed to be not necessarily with Tamoon herself, but with her presence, as if he had some strange need to know that she was there. It was like he was addicted to her and that knowing she was nearby reassured him. Sulu hadn't met Tamoon before, like Uhura had. He saw her in sickbay talking to Nurse Chapel. She seemed haughty and aloof one moment and coarse and physical the next - a real split personality, it seemed to him. He hadn't liked her at all. Uhura had the same opinion. She remembered her as a simple girl – a typical thrall, but one who was obsessed with Chekov. She knew how much she had wanted him. But now it seemed to be the other way around. She had a hold over their friend that she didn't understand and he didn't like it. Sulu had spoken to Uhura about it that evening and they both agreed – nothing seemed right. Lita Morrel had come in to visit him just as Sulu was leaving. He could tell immediately that he was pleased to see her, and Sulu made his excuses to leave, walking out to the sound of their intimate laughter together. He hoped that that would be the end of it. But when he saw her later she had complained that he had mostly talked about Tamoon. She was upset and disheartened, although she had tried not to show it in front of Chekov. Sulu didn't like to see her that way. It was dawning on him that he cared about her more than he was willing to admit to himself.

He walked quietly down the corridor towards the sound of the voices. He thought he heard Tamoon give a low laugh. He rounded the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. It was Tamoon and Chekov. She was leaning against the wall outside her cabin door. Chekov had both of his hands on either side of her shoulders. He leant forward and whispered something in her ear. She closed her eyes and smiled again.

"You must go, Pasha. Go back to your cabin. Forget what happened here. Go now. Remember what I told you," she said coquettishly.

She pushed him away and disappeared back into her quarters, the door snapping shut behind her. Chekov breathed deeply and spun round, sinking back against the wall where she had been standing. He put his head back and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. After a few seconds he opened them, staring into space. His dark eyes were black as deep pools of water and he didn't seem to notice Sulu at all. Is he drunk? Sulu thought. He must be, he looks drunk. His flushed cheeks and wide eyes seemed to be full of a desperate ecstasy. Sulu had seen enough. He strode back down the corridor and marched into the turbolift. He knew Chekov couldn't help himself sometimes when it came to girls but this was too much. What could he possibly see in Tamoon? What had passed between them in a day that would turn his head so suddenly? She wasn't even his type and compared to Lita… what was he thinking? Sulu threw himself out of the lift at his deck and headed back to his cabin, determined to talk to him about it in the morning.