Chekov woke to the insistent beep of his alarm. He rolled over on the bed to look at the time displayed in the clear red light on the wall next to him: 05.30am. He groaned and slumped back onto his pillow. He felt terrible. His arms and legs felt like lead weights. Dr McCoy had pronounced him fit for duty but it still felt like an effort to get himself back into the mindset of routine after the events on the surface. The alarm beeped again, this time more urgently. He hit the small button next to the display to turn it off and sat up with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. He had to get up. He was on duty at six. He swung his legs off the bed and rubbed his swollen eyes. He looked down and suddenly realised he was wearing his trousers and telnyashka. That was odd. He could have sworn he had got undressed before bed. He remembered spending the evening with Lita and that she had left him at about midnight. He remembered her warm kiss as she went out of the door. He even remembered getting into bed, thinking that he was starting to fall in love with her a little. There was no way he could have sleepwalked into getting dressed in the night – he wasn't a child. He stood up and took off the clothes. He threw down the trousers but something about the telnyashka made him pause. He buried his face in the cloth. It smelt of a heavy incense that made him feel nauseous. He shook his head to chase away the feeling and grabbed a towel from a hanger on the back of the door before going into the bathroom. He turned on the sonic shower and stepped in, letting the pulses and vibrations open his pores and massage his skin clean. He gave an involuntary shudder. He felt as if the smell of the incense was on his skin. It made him feel unclean. He suddenly felt a sharp stab in his right arm. He looked down and turned his forearm upwards. There was a small but dark bruise just below the crook of his arm. He rubbed it gingerly. He couldn't remember getting that either. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to let himself enjoy the tingling ultrasonics on his scalp to chase away the tension he felt in his head. After a few minutes he felt a little better and stepped back out into the bathroom. He went to the sink and splashed his face with cold water, avoiding his reflection the mirror. He couldn't bring himself to look, as if afraid of what he'd see. The cuts on his lips and cheekbone had only partially healed. The icy water stung, reminding him of the planet they were still orbiting. He dried his face with the towel and got dressed into a clean uniform. He set off for the bridge, catching the turbolift which propelled him smoothly to the top of the ship.

The Bridge was quiet. Chekov looked briefly around. The captain was talking to Mr Spock at the science station, Sulu was at the helm and Uhura was listening intently to something on her earpiece. She sat up with a worried expression as he walked in and turned away hurriedly to her console, crossing her slim legs as she always did and pressed her finger to her ear. Lieutenant Schenker from the nightshift shut down the navigation console as he approached and exchanged a good morning with Chekov. He reported an uneventful night before heading out the door. Chekov slipped into his chair and keyed in his code. The board lit up and launched into its familiar start-up sequence. He turned to Sulu who was looking serious.

"Good morning, Hikaru," he said, casting him a glance before checking the azimuth sensor data. Sulu didn't reply. He normally greeted him cheerfully every morning, but something seemed to be wrong. Perhaps he hadn't heard him.

"Good morning", he tried again.

"Morning," muttered Sulu, not even bothering to look at him.

Chekov immediately noted the tension in his voice. "Everything ok?" he asked in concern.

Sulu turned his head away from his console and looked at him in disgust, his black eyes glittering. "OK?" he said angrily. "You've got a nerve."

Chekov frowned and sat up. "What do you mean?" he asked concernedly.

Sulu made a noise of exasperation and turned back to his work. He brought up the targeting scanner and buried his face in its hood.

"Anything the matter, gentlemen?" The captain's voice cut over the humming of the Bridge's equipment. Both he and Spock had witnessed the exchange. Kirk stood with his arms folded and an expectant look on his face. Nothing escaped him that might affect the smooth running of the Bridge and Spock's hearing was notorious.

Sulu swung round in his chair and turned to them, ignoring Chekov and looking past him. "No, sir. Everything's fine," he replied neutrally. He immediately returned his face to the scanner, leaving Chekov feeling worried.

"Sulu, what's the matter? What's wrong?" he hissed under his breath, turning his head so the captain didn't hear again.

Sulu flashed him an angry look. "Just shut up and get on with your work, Ensign."

Chekov's mouth clamped shut. Sulu had pulled rank on him. That was warning enough. That never happened.

The rest of the morning didn't go any better. It was a slow day maintaining standard orbit while the captain began to put out feelers to the more progressive Providers. They sat and listened to him start his diplomatic moves as more and more Providers joined in. Their voices boomed over the intercom, often clamouring with each other to be heard. They were worried. Their greatest enemy, Senrug, was missing and no one knew where she was. Some said she had been killed. Others expected the disappearance to be part of a sinister game plan. The crew kept the ship's systems running smoothly. Uhura was busy and did not have time to relax. But if Sulu had to converse with Chekov he did it briefly, as if talking too long to him would sully him. Chekov sat in silence, feeling increasingly angry and agitated. He had no idea what he had done to upset Sulu so much and he couldn't even ask him to find out. It was with relief that he saw Yeoman Rand enter the Bridge with coffee for the captain. Lunch had come. He shut down his board and walked quickly up the steps to the lift. Sulu and Uhura exchanged glances and followed him in. There was an awkward silence. Chekov didn't want to initiate the conversation. – he hadn't done anything wrong. He felt like a schoolboy who had misbehaved but didn't know why. He stared at the wall, avoiding his friends' eyes. The lift came gently to a halt. Chekov followed the two lieutenants out onto the rec deck and into the canteen. He grabbed some soup in a bowl on a tray from a replicator by the door and was about to go and find a table to sit at when Uhura put her hand on his arm.

"Come and sit with us," she said seriously. "We'd like to talk to you."

Chekov looked up into her dark round eyes, suddenly feeling a childish urge to rebel, wondering if he could flash a smile, make some excuse to skip lunch and go back to his cabin.

Uhura, as usual, could read him like a book. She could see him contemplating an escape. "I could make it an order, Ensign."

Chekov paused but then followed her obediently to an empty table in the corner. He sat down, not wanting to raise his eyes, picking up his spoon and stirring it in his soup in a petulant manner.

"Pasha, what's up with you?" Her question was gentle enough, but it was laden with direction and meaning.

"What do you mean?" replied Chekov, trying to sound relaxed, but cursing himself for the sharpness of his tone. He took a mouthful of soup. It tasted strange. It reminded him of something familiar. "Have you tried this soup?"

Sulu looked annoyed, something he rarely did. "Yes. What's wrong with it?" he snapped. He felt Chekov was trying to stall the conversation.

"It tastes strange."

"It tastes ok to me. It's just vegetable. Look, never mind the soup."

Chekov put the spoon into the bowl and pushed it away from him. He suddenly wasn't hungry. The vegetables tasted flowery, almost like… incense. That smell again, bleeding through like a forgotten memory. "Maybe I'm not hungry," he muttered distractedly. He could feel the pain in his head start to work its way back through his skull.

Sulu sat back and gave him a long look, chewing over his food slowly, trying to decide where to start.

"You still don't look well, Ensign. You look exhausted." He said eventually like a doctor's diagnosis. "Not getting enough sleep?"

"You know why I am not well, Sulu. I didn't go to Triskelion for holiday," muttered Chekov, his rising exasperation making him lose his standard.

"So what did you do on Triskelion? You haven't been very forthcoming on the details," probed Sulu further. He immediately picked up on the stress starting to affect his voice.

"I don't know. I've already told you," Chekov replied peevishly.

"And the rest?"

A sharp pain stabbed through Chekov's head. He put his hand up to his brow and leant on the table. "The rest I…I don't remember. Please leave me alone."

"Don't remember… like last night?" asked Sulu quickly. "I suppose you don't remember that?"

Chekov looked up. Sulu was glaring at him. A strand of his dark hair had fallen across his forehead, he had shaken his head so vigorously. "I… no… I don't. What do you mean about last night?"

Sulu pursed his lips, pointing his spoon at Chekov and looking in exasperation at Uhura. "I don't believe this."

Uhura pushed her bowl to one side. She hadn't believed it either when Sulu had told her what he had seen on Deck 9 during the night and usually she wouldn't have cared. Chekov was a young man and he could see who he wanted and sleep with who he wanted. It was none of her business. But there was something about this whole business with Tamoon that disturbed her and she shared Sulu's concerns.

"Pasha, you're not using your memory lapses as an excuse, are you? Because if you are, it's not a good way to deal with this. We're not stupid," she said, trying to sound helpful. Sulu was starting to get wound up and she felt she needed to diffuse the tension or they were going to get anything out of Chekov.

Chekov looked genuinely hurt. "I don't know what you mean. I don't even know what you are talking about. Please believe me."

Sulu shook his head. "Chekov, just admit it. You slept with Tamoon last night."

"Ty chto?" exclaimed Chekov. "Ty s uma soshyol?" He felt as if the deck were falling away from him. "I think there's been some kind of a misunderstanding."

Sulu rounded on him. "Misunderstanding? No, I don't think so, Chekov. Maybe on Lita's part – for falling for a snake like you."

"Sulu, I think that's enough," said Uhura firmly, surprised at the unexpected vociferousness of the helmsman's normally tranquil temper, although she was starting to have an inkling of where it was coming from. She knew Chekov would not respond well.

Chekov's eyes narrowed. "Sulu, you're upset," he growled. "I really don't know what this is about but I can assure you I haven't done or said anything to hurt Lita."

"Oh, really?" Sulu spat back. "Well, I know you've treated her despicably." He turned to Uhura, his deep voice sounding increasingly angry. "He tries to make out that he's so well educated and so well bred, but underneath it all he's just a ship's whore."

In an instant, Chekov had sprung to his feet with the fluidity that only pure rage could give him. Chairs were upturned and the food and trays on the table went flying. Uhura leapt up in shock a moment behind him, only just catching Chekov's arm as it went back, fist at the ready to punch Sulu in the face. It took all her strength just to hold him. Shouts of alarm went up around the canteen as a trio of security guards who had been having their lunch on the other side of the room pushed their way past anxious and curious crewmen to get to the argument.

"Sulu, I don't know what you're talking about!" shouted Chekov, struggling against a security guard who had grabbed him off Uhura. He reeled off a round of curses in Russian.

"You little aristocrat!" yelled Sulu over the arm of another security guard. "You think you can treat people any way you want? You knew I liked Lita. I trusted you to treat her well, and yet you had the gall to sleep with that alien at the same time! Or were you just drunk? Is that your excuse?"

"What? You think I would do that?" Chekov was shocked. He hadn't realised that Sulu liked her in that way.

"You make me sick. Why are you trying to deny it? To save face in front of us? I saw you, Chekov."

"What? I don't understand…How?"

Sulu gave a noise of exasperation. "Where were you last night?"

"I… I don't know. In bed."

"So, you're a bare faced liar too. I saw you coming out of Tamoon's quarters at 2am this morning."

"Why were you there?" asked Chekov, trying to take it all in. He was starting to feel dizzy and confused.

"On a repair call. I saw you coming out of Tamoon's quarters. And you weren't just leaving politely, were you? You were all over her. You had her pinned up against the wall outside her door and she was having to push you off to get you to leave. I thought you were a decent person, Chekov. I thought you had morals. Turns out all this time I've been wrong."

"Sulu, I swear, I can't have been there. I don't remember." He felt like he was falling into a pit. He couldn't remember any of what Sulu was saying, but he knew he had woken up fully dressed, as if he had been somewhere else. Could Sulu be telling the truth? He wanted to be sick.

"Oh, try a different tune, Chekov," Sulu spat back sarcastically.

"I think it's time you calmed down, sirs," said one of the security guards gruffly, tiring of what seemed to him like nonsensical bickering. "Or we'll have to report this to the captain." Chekov relaxed slightly, shaking him off with hurt pride as his grip relaxed.

Uhura stepped back in, holding her hands up. "Take it easy, Hikaru," she said. She had never seen him so upset. He saw the insistence in her face and started to gather himself. He took a deep breath, releasing some of the tension as he exhaled. She turned to the guards. "Look, I'm sorry. Let me handle this. They've had a disagreement. I'll calm them down and sort this out. We'll clean up the mess." The guards squared their shoulders but backed off, muttering about a ruined lunch. They walked off back through the room, settling other crewmembers down who had risen to their feet in concern. Uhura lowered her voice. "Chekov, I know it's none of my business who you chose to see, but this Tamoon. Who is she? I know she was your drill thrall when we were last on Triskelion, but last I heard you couldn't bear to be anywhere near her. Now she's got a hold on you. We have no idea who she is or what she wants and she's on our ship. I'd say she's influencing you somehow and you're not even realising. We feel like we're losing you. You haven't smiled in weeks and that's not like you."

"Don't be ridiculous." Chekov shook his head stubbornly.

"I'm going to recommend she be put off this ship as soon as possible and ask Dr McCoy to check you over again."

"No," said Chekov, uncertain as to why he suddenly felt panicked by this. He ran his fingers through his hair. "Don't do that."

"Why?"

He couldn't reply to Uhura's cold blunt question. He sank down onto a chair and put his head in his hands. Why was he arguing with his friends? Why were they doubting his very nature? Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tamoon standing in the doorway. He looked up at her. A curious smile played about her orange lips, as if she had a plan that was playing itself out. She turned round and disappeared out of sight. He felt as if a door had opened in his mind and he had to walk through. The pain in his head vanished and the argument suddenly seemed unimportant.

"I have to go," he murmured distractedly, getting up from the table.

Uhura and Sulu had seen Tamoon too. Uhura wondered how long she had been standing there watching. Sulu saw a remnant of the ecstatic look in the navigator's eyes. He grabbed Chekov's arm as he walked past as if in a dream.

"What are you doing?" he asked, suddenly feeling concerned, all thoughts of the argument evaporating. It was the same look he had seen the previous night and this time he definitely wasn't drunk.

Chekov looked at him without seeing. "I'm sorry," he said softly. He removed Sulu's arm. "I have to go."

He walked out of the canteen as if drifting on air. Sulu watched him go.

"We need to tell the captain about this," said Uhura decisively.

Sulu nodded in agreement. "Now."