Authors' Note: If you did not receive notice of this already, Chapter 13 was replaced. What was once a Mean Girls parody is now an actual chapter. Please go and read that update before you read this chapter! We apologize for any inconvenience! Enjoy this update - Marcelle and I have been working hard and apologize for the wait. Balancing school, social lives, and obsession with writing fanfiction is hard work. (:
"A deal, Captain? Who are you to lecture me on deals when you have broken so many of your own?" Harewood laughed, his snide and cool manner digging in Kirk in a way he could barely fathom. He should have known better than to trust Harewood. What about this man should have led him to believe that he would honor a deal? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And yet, Jim had given him the coordinates out of the foolish assumption that Thomas would respect the agreement. And now they were practically on borrowed time, time that was slipping away with every second. It seemed that Kirk had failed today-the day where it mattered most that he succeed.
"You-" Kirk spluttered, trying to find the words to say. He was tempted to throw an arsenal of swears and curses in his direction, but kept his anger in check for the moment. Though he had assumed that Harewood would have something under his sleeve, he also made the juvenile mistake of guessing that the man would at least be somewhat rational and respect their agreement until it came time for hunting down Khan. He wanted to scream, rip his hair out, take a shuttle down to Harewood and beat him into a pulp himself. Yet he could only manage to stutter over the words he wanted so badly to say.
"We lived up to our side of the bargain. The least you could do is be honorable in return." He hissed through clenched teeth, furious gaze boring holes through the screen. He wished that looks could kill - he would have sent Harewood packing his bags and heading for hell days ago had he been in control of that sort of power.
"And where was your sense of honor when it came to our previous conflict? I seem to remember us reaching a mutual understanding. No one was to leave the bridge or contact command without my consent, and I caught you in that act as well." He shook his head with a taunting smirk, tilting to the side as if he could be more intimidating that way. "Think of it as collateral. I take your little Russian pet with me on the last part of my journey to ensure that you gave me the right coordinates. If I find anything to be displeasing, I kill him." He stated this as a fact, no amount of hesitation in his voice. Kirk knew that he was treading on thin ice; one wrong move and Pavel would be dead by morning.
"And if you find it all to your liking?" Kirks' fingers were clenched around his armrest so tightly that they turned white. He was restraining himself, replaying every and all possible plans. There were unexpected outcomes to this sudden return of hostilities, and the captain was afraid of what the brought. But in the academy they taught the need to feel fear, and he was definitely coming to that point now.
"Then I return your ensign as promised, with only a few scratches." With that, Harewood grinned maliciously, patting Pavel's arm hard enough to make him stagger forward a few steps. Only, the boy didn't make it very far before Harewood latched onto the collar of his shirt.
"You have seconds to get your hands off of him, Harewood, I'm warning you-" Voice shaking, the captain sat bolt upright, his back as straight as a board. His patience was running thin, itching to get to the controls. If he fired at that planet, he could do significant damage - to both Harewood and his own crew member. Shit - this was a losing battle and he was fighting for the side that was slowly sliding down a steep hill of problems.
"Or what, captain?" The man turned to sneer, fisting the boy's tattered gold shirt in his palm. "I hold all of the cards here. What could you possibly do to me that would bring me harm?" His eyes gleamed with sadistic joy as he raised an arm, his hand balling up in preparation. Pavel was obviously trying not to wince, staring the man's hand down as if it were the enemy itself.
"Captain-" the voice was distressed, and obviously female. Kirk turned to his right to see Lieutenant Uhura jump from her seat as quickly as though it had suddenly caught fire and burned her. She looked frightened, her brown eyes large and round. Her gaze was constantly flickering back and forth between Kirk, Spock, and Pavel, whose equally scared face was centered in perfect view on the screen. She sucked in a breath, watching as a few curls fell in front of Chekov's eyes, and her heart went out to her best friend.
"We only have minutes left, sir." She said suddenly, the anxiety in her voice obvious, she glanced down at a counter that had been set up."From what we've recorded, we've been talking for almost an hour. We need to-" she caught herself from ordering her captain around, but it seemed as though Kirk understood it anyway.
"Spock, get in touch with Scotty, see of we can beam him up from under the ground."
"Captain, I must admit that this course of action is illogical. We have never tested that theory, and to attempt it on the ensign could potentially kill him."
Yet Kirk knew that Pavel was already on the brink of death. "Figure it out - go, now, do it, do it, do it!" He commanding, voice rising in intensity, the cackling of Harewood heard from the screen in front of him.
"Time is running out commander. Perhaps you should get going." Harewood set his steely gaze on Spock, who met him with an even stare. Two half-Vulcans, attempting to intimidate each other. It was a sight for the history books. Spock did not waver under the daunting glare, but instead turned on his heel to walk briskly to the lift. Before the doors even closed, he was opening his communicator to place a call down to a undoubtedly panicked Scotty.
It was a moment of pure silence aboard the bridge, something uncommon for Kirk's crew. All eyes were locked on either the countdown or the screen, studying the shaking figure of Pavel Chekov. Harewood was toying with them now, just waiting for the opportune moment of torture. Kirk could only watch, helpless as the time began to slip away from him, slowly ticking towards the zero second mark. A page from the transportation pad made it clear that they would not be figuring out how to get Pavel back aboard the ship anytime soon. It would rearrange his molecules too much to beam him out of the planet's underground and then through the atmosphere until he got to the ship. Kirk was finding himself floundering for an option, knowing he had nothing. He could only sit and watch and everything spiraled down around him, nothing in his control anymore. If they couldn't beam him from underground, then they were left with virtually no options. This time there wasn't ship he could invade, or a warp core he could realign. James Tiberius Kirk had finally found his no-win scenario.
The first punch was a brutal blow, straight to the face. Chekov, feeling the brunt force of the attack, was sporting watering eyes and an indignant grimace almost immediately. The clock was ticking down to five seconds, enough time for the entire bridge crew to watch as Harewood began to hit him again, fury taking control. Pavel merely squirmed against him, unable to get away from the death grip he had on his shirt. The pound of Harewood's knuckles slamming into Pavel's sensitive flesh was a noise that would haunt the bridge crew for as long as they would remember it. His small gasp of air after every hit, the way his soul seemed to be slowly crushing into pieces was a sight that they found almost impossible to escape from, because it was as he was calling for their help, and they could not deliver it. Though the boy would occasionally throw his fists up to block a hit, he was not faring well whatsoever.
Hikaru barely felt himself rising from his chair, only realizing that he was standing when the screen went black and he looked around, dark eyes wide with concern. Everyone on the bridge sat with their mouths agape, mimicking the same look of confusion. Sulu had no doubt that the damage that Chekov was receiving was due to his clever trickery when it came to sending a missile towards the garbage deck. Perhaps the punishment was also a message to Jim, that Harewood was still pissed off at the way their negotiations had taken place. Jim had been foolish enough to attempt to find a way past their agreements once, and Harewood was determined to make him feel humiliated by the transgression as he kept his navigator and tortured him. The man was making a mockery out of the U.S.S. Enterprise, and obviously having as much fun as he could with it.
A frustrated growl rose at the back of his throat as he tried to keep from crying. He could already feel the tears of fury and frustration coming on. Just moments before, he had been excited to welcome his friend back aboard the ship. Now, he could only sit back and try to withhold the urge to imagine just what form of torture was being doled out against Pavel. Broken bones, bruises, burns? A broken spirit was certain. There were plenty of things that could be happening down on that planet, and no one could offer any help until Harewood and Chekov were well on their way into warping off towards the planet where Khan's cold, icy body was stored.
Turning to glance at the captain, Hikaru forced himself to stuff down all feelings of contempt. The captain had made some stupid choices when it came to dealing with Harewood, that was true, but the pilot at The captain who was supposed to be on top of things, always on the winning team, was suddenly fishing for words and lost beyond all control. He didn't have as much of a clue what to do as Hikaru did himself. It was horrible to think that it was their fault that Pavel was probably still being mercilessly beaten, that it was because of them that he was going to have scars now that would last the rest of his life, however much longer that may be.
No. No, don't think that, don't you dare think that... Sulu pried himself away from the thought of a dead Pavel Chekov, his life taken from him at a mere eighteen years old. The kid had so much to live for, so much he could accomplish from that Starfleet-exceptional brain of his. He couldn't leave them yet, not when they had left him believing that they underestimated the genius he really was. Not when Hikaru had just realized how great of a friend Pavel was. Who else would stay up late to help him improve on piloting techniques? Who else would help him tend to the botanical samples he had found a few months back and was trying to cultivate? Who else would come with him on their rare shore leaves to visit his ill mother? No one but Pavel would do those things, and no would be able to take Pavel's place as Hikaru Sulu's best friend. It didn't matter that Sulu was about 7 years older, because with Chekov's intellect, it was almost as though there was no age gap at all. Hikaru always looked out for his young friend, of course, but it was rare that Pavel would need his help with anything. Reminding him to get to sleep when he got too caught up in his work or helping him study for an advanced online physics program he was taking was usually the extent of Sulu's duties, but he took pride in them. It was as though he was helping the little brother that he never had during the years of his childhood spent in a San Francisco foster home. And now even Pavel was being taken from him, from all of them. It just wasn't fair.
Hikaru could almost feel tears forming in the corners of his eyes, the salty liquid tickling his lashes. But if he had learned anything about Starfleet, it was that control over emotions can be a valuable asset, and it was only for that reason that he was able to restrain himself from sobbing. Pavel was an exceptionally strong soul, both physically and emotionally, but it seemed that he had been pushed close to his breaking point at the beginning of the latest transmission. Now, having had to fire a missile at his ship and consequently being beaten for it, Sulu wasn't sure how much more the boy could take, and it scared him to his very core. He honestly had no idea what he would do without Pavel, how he would be able to stand coming to the bridge every day only to see another golden shirt in Chekov's place, hearing another voice report, "Captain on the bridge!" Whoever it would be, they wouldn't be able to say the simple phrase the way Pavel did. There was no way they could possibly replicate the happiness and faith present in the young ensign, and he knew they had to get him back before anyone had to try.
"Captain-" he started, but was immediately cut off as Kirk turned away from him, instead facing Uhura.
"Lieutenant, contact Starfleet Headquarters as soon as we take off. Alert them of what's going on and tell them that I'm going to need to speak with the Admiral the first chance I can get," he ordered, the professionalism now present in his voice something no one could help but admire. How Kirk was able to keep his head straight in a time like this was beyond Sulu, although a part of him realized that it was probably entirely the opposite. His captain was most likely about ready to burst at the seams, the all-business manner he was showing now merely a facade to hide the truth from the rest of the crew. It was not the most healthy approach to the problem, he knew, but it seemed to be Kirk's only option at the moment. Hikaru was certain that the commanding officer was probably not giving even the slightest thought to his own health, but that of his navigator.
"Yes, sir," Uhura murmured obediently, serving in her chair to punch commands onto the screen in front of her.
"Take off?" Hikaru stood, a confused expression across his face. "We're going to leave Pavel here?" His voice was on the verge of reaching higher decibels. He'd never raised his voice at the captain, but this was getting serious. How could he even consider take off without their navigator returned safely to his ship?
"We need to get a head start." The Captain shrugged, a concentrated look upon his face as he shifted in his seat, facing the screen ahead of him. He was focused, and something told Hikaru that the man wasn't going to budge from this decision. As much as it killed him, they were going to leave without Pavel. They couldn't do anything now, with communications down for another twenty four hours or so. If Pavel was still alive and in the custody of Harewood, chances were that they wouldn't see him again until reaching the cryo-prison planet. Now that they knew that this was where Harewood was going, it was imperative that they got there first. "If we can beat him there, we might be able to stop him."
"But who knows what he's going to do to Pavel in the meantime-"
"Mr. Sulu," Kirk interrupted harshly, and the pilot snapped his mouth shut so quickly that you could hear his teeth chatter. Out of respect, Hikaru knew that he was in no place to question the captain, and stood at attention. No one would have guessed his anger had they not looked at his hands, shaking in fists at his side. It wasn't that he wanted to hit anyone in particular, per se. It was more the fact that was so frustrated that everything inside him called out for him to lash out on anything that was getting in his way.
"Either you sit down and steer us out of here now, or relieve yourself from the bridge, lieutenant." Captain Kirk said with a finality that no one in their right mind would argue with. The Captain was far past caring why any man dared question him. Right now, he was trying to coast along as best he could. He understood that Sulu was hurting, but he didn't have time for a chat about their feelings. He had to get a head start on Harewood and stop this situation from spiraling too far out of control. Already the man was two steps ahead of him, and James T. Kirk couldn't stand being behind.