Hikaru really couldn't stand ensigns. The majority of them were so incompetent, it was a miracle they managed to get on the Enterprise at all. On the whole, he found the lower-ranking officers to be a terrible pain. They were mainly young kids barely out of the Academy that usually had no idea what they were doing, which was why it was very infuriating to think that one was sitting in Sulu's chair at this very moment.
"Stop sulking, man, and let me look at that arm." The gruff voice of everyone's favorite doctor made Sulu look up. There was a severe glint in his eyes, and Bones knew that anyone else would figure to back up pretty quick. However, the man was a doctor and he was going to help his patient, no matter what his mood.
"It's fine, doctor." Hikaru glared down at his right arm, swollen at the wrist and colored as red as an apple. "I shouldn't be here, I should be backon the bridge-"
"You brought it on yourself, lieutenant." Bones ran a diagnostic sensor over his arm, checking the readings with an unamused expression. "Sprained, just as I thought. Didn't anyone ever tell you to pick your fights?"
"What was I supposed to do, sit back and leave Pavel here?" Sulu wrenched his arm away, wincing pain as a throbbing sensation built up in his wrist. As a fencer, he had come across many injuries to his hands and arms. Though he tried his hardest to protect himself there, as to not be forced to give up a week or two of training, he had had his fair share of accidents anyway. It was easier to sustain harm as a teen, as he just happened to be a bit more fragile at that age. Now that he was into his young adult years, it surprised him that he had managed to get hurt so easily.
"Well you could've done it a little less physically," Bones grumbled from his station, gathering various forms of medical equipment into his arms. Hikaru squinted at his form, blinded by the glint of metal pieces gathered in the doctor's arms, the bright lights of med-bay bouncing off of whatever he was holding. "What you did was foolish." The doctor berated, rolling his eyes at Sulu's blank stare. The liuetenant was too busy trying to figure out what Bones was holding to pay attention.
Hikaru had been issued a bed, as every patient is given during their stay, but he had refused to relax. Instead, he was standing against the wall by the scanners and screens attached to the matress. Leaning back with his arm held in a protective way, he looked like the picture of a perfect bad-ass who was too cool to care about pain. Yet Bones knew better; he wasn't a psychiatrist, but he knew when people were hurt in ways that weren't entirely related to the body.
"Is it foolish to stand up for something you believe in?" Hikaru's dark eyes flashed, and the doctor sighed internally. There was just no getting through to these thick-skulled Starfleet people. Much like Jim, Sulu was all for fighting for those that you love. He just managed to do it at the wrong time and get his Captain very annoyed.
"At times - yes!" Bones snapped, growing impatient with Sulu. "Would you please sit down and let me bind your arm?" He asked, more of a threatening demand than a request. He was on the verge of bringing a nurse in to deliver a sedative hypospray to the young pilot, who was very obviously tense and agitated. Sulu slowly made his way to perch on the edge of the bed, glowering at Bones all the way. As gently as he possibly could, Bones let his experienced hands wind a bandage around the thin wrist that he held in his grasp. The material, stretchy and made of thick woven strands of cotton and gauze sat perfectly against Hikaru's arm, melding colors to match his skin tone before Bones could even secure the wrap with the Velcro strap it had attached at the end.
"What are you doing?" Hikaru's soft voice was suspicious as the doctor picked up a piece of curved metal, flattened and about four inches long. Without a reply, McCoy pressed the metal against the wrist in front of him, it's shape contorting perfectly to the heel of his palm. Pulling what seemed to be a fingerless black glove from his array of medical items, Bones began to work the unwilling hand into it. Sulu let out a yelp of surprise at how snugly it fit, making his wrist burn.
"Don't be such a baby. It's a pressure garment, it'll loosen in a minute or so." Bones snarled, his bedside manner already wasted on countless other patients that day. "You'll need to keep this on for a few days. Until it heals, you're off duty. It'll be a week at maximum." He instructed, sounding as though he were going to write a prescription - though in fact he was just wording out what he was going to write in the medical report he would need to file.
"A week?" Hikaru spluttered, flushing with anger at the thought. "You mean to tell me that I'll be out of duty for a whole seven days, while some ensign sits in my chair, royaly screwing up anything he possibly could? You know ensigns, McCoy, they're careless! They don't even know what it's like to be out in the field yet. How can you expect me to sit back and wait while someone pilots the Enterprise - in my chair - until I heal?"
Bones waited through the outburst, resisting a roll of his eyes. "You know, not all ensigns are bad." He's said quietly, looking down at a metallic pill bottle in his fingers, the size of an ancient film canister. He could feel Hikaru's sharp eyes boring holes into him, but refused to look up. "In fact, I can think of one particular Russian whiz-kid ensign we all know and love." He pointed out softly, chocolate brown eyes darting up, piercing into Sulu's.
A moment passed as it sunk in, and the pilot seemed to crumple. "Reality check, lieutenant." Bones added gruffly, clearing his throat, as though that would rid him of the sour taste that thinking of a captive Pavel left in his mouth. "There are far worse positions you could be in than taking a few days off of bridge duty."
Sulu stared at him for a moment, the truth of his words like a smack in the face. What if he was in Chekov's place, instead of sitting safely in medbay? Would Pavel have acted out of turn and shouted and argued with his own captain just to save him? Would he be sitting here instead? Hikaru wanted to think that yes, he would have, but there was always that ounce of doubt that maybe their friendship wasn't as strong as he believed.
"That's not the point," he murmured regardless of the fact that he knew McCoy was right. The doctor narrowed his eyes, and Hikaru braced himself for the storm.
"Then what is the point, Sulu? The point is that you are compromising yourself and whining over bridge duty while the rest of us are trying to get Pavel back. You want to help him so bad? Then pull yourself together, shut up, and do what Jim tells you to do." He paused, letting the words hang in the air. "I know it doesn't always seem like it, but trust me, he knows what he's doing."
It felt as though an entire lifetime had passed since Kirk had felt the motion of the Enterprise in warp. As much as was great to be moving again, the captain couldn't help but dread where they were heading. Every instinct he had was telling him to turn around, to not get involved, to keep the crew safe and stay far away from the planet that now hosted Khan's permanent slumber. Of course, after what Kirk had done, it might not be so permanent for much longer. He could kick himself-several times-for handing over the top-secret Starfleet information over to a homicidal maniac, but he knew it wasn't as though he had much of an alternative. Pavel was still with Harewood, he was still in trouble... and if Kirk had to break every Starfleet code in the book to get him back, then so be it. The rules had never held him back before, and they weren't about to now.
"Uhura, get ahold of Starfleet HQ now, make sure they know it's urgent," he ordered, striding quickly over to where Spock was seated diligently at his post. The Vulcan had been a far cry from his usually very opinionated self, and Kirk had a sneaking suspicion that he was brooding over the fact that his advice had been disregarded.
"Mister Su-" Kirk stopped himself with a wince at the name. "I mean, ensign Ovin. Take us out of here." He commanded, leaning back in his seat. Oh how he wished he could be directing the proper pilot on how to steer them out. Actually, he would have much rather made the situation light by making fun of Hikaru and pretending that everything was alright for the time being. Instead, Kirk was stuck mulling over his emotionally compromised pilot's actions.
It was a ridiculous reason for the young man to be thrown off the bridge, when you think about it. Technically, Hikaru hadn't even done anything. Then again, he had gotten very close to getting himself kicked off of the entire ship. When Kirk had observed him becoming more agitated, he had tried to back off, but it was hard for him. As Bones would say in a moment of poetic genius, they were both "as stubborn as thick mud." Going at it verbally had of course ended up with them being nose to nose, everyone on the bridge crew at red-alert mode. That proved to be a good idea, as Hikaru had brought his fist back as if to strike the captain in a moment of anger, and had his wrist grabbed by "Cupcake" in no time. The man had been a bit rough with him, forcing the smaller man to his knees, his arm twisted behind his back in a way that could only be described as intensely painful. Though Kirk was rather annoyed at the unfortunate intervention, it had been necessary. Sulu was way out of line, and lucky that there was someone to stop him from being hauled to the brig.
Unluckily for the rest of the crew, the remainder of their flight was going to be a little shaky, what with Ovin at the wheel. Sure, he was a pilot, but no one in Starfleet could manage to fly the Enterprise as smoothly as Hikaru Sulu could.
"Captain?" Kirk was wrenched from his thoughts of safe flying as Uhura called to him from the adjacent console. "I've got the acting admiral on hold."
"Bring her up on the screen. And page Bones to get down here, we might need him."
"Yes, sir," Uhura murmured obediently. That seemed to be all she could manage to say in such a stressful situation. Everyone was on the edge of their seats lately, waiting to see what would happen next. It was not as though Kirk was behaving unexpectedly, but they had all seen a pattern of order growing in him before that now seemed to vanish. He was acting unruly, more so than usual, and it was starting to show. They were all waiting for him to snap or give up in such an impossible situation.
Uncharacteristic of him-yes. But certainly not unheard of. Even the strongest of men have a breaking point, and it seemed as though Harewood had found the captain's. It would be only a matter of time before Kirk was pushed past that point, they all knew.
"Hello, gentlemen." Acting admiral Carol Marcus' lovely face lit up the screen, her pale skin glowing healthily. Though she was directly addressing the Captain, her eyes were latched onto Bones already. No one could deny that there was something going on between those two. As infrequent as shore leaves were, Bones made sure to spend time on "business" working with the acting admiral. The two hit it off like highschool lovers, practically. "Might I ask to what occasion I owe this pleasant surprise?"
"Hello, Carol," Kirk replied with the barest hint of a smile. He too had grown closer to Admiral Marcus's daughter in the months following his death, regarding her now as family. He held Carol in tremendous respect, especially after she had agreed to temporarily take her father's prestigious place as a Starfleet admiral until a permanent replacement was found. They hadn't spoken for quite an extended period of time, and Kirk hated that their next meeting had to be under such dire circumstances. "I, uh, I'm afraid the occasion isn't as pleasant as you think. Chekov's been captured in a terroristic attack against Starfleet."
"W-What?" Carol gasped, her blue eyes growing wide with apparent shock at the sudden and clearly unexpected news. Kirk knew he had been blunt, to say the least, but he saw no sense in beating around the bush when there were lives on the line and not much time to spare. "How... how could that have happened?" She sounded on the brink of tears, and Kirk didn't blame her. Pavel seemed to have that effect on people.
"You remember that guy who bombed Section 31 and apparently died in the process?" he prompted, giving the acting admiral a pointed look and allowing her to fill in the blanks.
"Yes, Thomas Harewood..." She seemed puzzled as to why Kirk mentioned it, before it began to set in. She let out an audible gasp, covering her mouth with one hand. "He didn't actually die, did he?" she guessed correctly, voice now taunt with the anger he could see rising in her as she began to piece together the situation. "What does he want with Chekov?"
"He wants the coordinates to the location of Khan and the other Augments... apparently they have some unfinished business to take care of," Kirk explained simply and crisply, allowing no extra detail to take up unwanted time.
"You didn't give the coordinates to him, right?" Carol asked, sounding sure in the fact that a Starfleet captain would not sacrifice confidential information to a clear enemy. She would have been right, of course, had Kirk not been who he was. He remained silent, eyes wandering around the bridge in an attempt to avoid verbally shaming himself-implied shame was hard enough to take.
Sighing audibly, the admiral sunk lower in her chair, shoulders caving forwards. "I see. Well, I shouldn't expect any different." She admitted, and Kirk looked up. He wasn't sure it that was a jab at his ego or not. Either way, he wasn't going to get into any arguments over it right now. His focus was on his main navigator and no one else.
"Well?" Suddenly, Carol leaned forward, blue eyes intense with frustration. "What are you doing just sitting there? He could be well on his way towards the planet by now. You must apprehend him at all costs." She said with a ferocity unexpected by her. No doubt she was thinking of Khan, and what his release would mean. It wasn't so long ago that he had shattered the bone in her leg, confining her to a wheelchair for months. The pain she had experienced had been excruciating, and it would be impossible to erase the fate of her own father from her mind. She had seen first hand the strength of that Augment, and knew that he could not be unleashed upon the public.
"We were waiting for your orders, Admiral." Bones spoke up in explanation, and Carol met his eyes for the briefest of seconds. There seemed to be a secret godspeed passed between them before she nodded. Without another word, she ended the transmission.
"Increase our warp speed, Captain?" The ensign sitting in Hikaru's chair swiveled about to face his superior with wide eyes. He hadn't been behind the wheel for much long, and already he had a death threat hanging above his head from Sulu, and the pressure of flying the entire Enterprise weighing down on his shoulders.
"Punch it." The Captain demanded, his eyes flickering with excitement. They were finally allowed on the trail. Like a hound ready to hunt the fox, he was in a rush to get this over with. As soon as they were able to get Pavel, they would be heading back home to file tedious paperwork-and then he was taking a much needed break from everything Augment related.
Author's note: In response to Maria's comment in the previous chapter: I'm glad you asked that question, as it has also occurred to us! However, from how we are interpreting the rules of beaming technology, beaming anyone through ground is impossible. Therefore, Chekov could not be beamed through the ground to the surface, nor could he be beamed straight to the ship. In the 2009 reboot universe that this story is based on, Spock beams down to the surface of Vulcan to travel into the caves to save his parents. From what we gather, Spock did this because they could not beam his people up while they were underground. This backs up our reasoning for leaving Pavel out of reach of the ship.
Also! It'd be awesome if you would look at/comment on that Star Trek/Mean Girls parody. Marcelle's hoping for reviews. (: