AN: I do not own Star Trek.
Ch. 6 - Honor
They'd hung Chekov from his wrists at one point. Right after they were done with the almost drowning thing. They'd held him under until his lungs had almost burst and then when they lifted him up they'd hit him. Demanding the shield codes. Now the cold metal of the shackles was biting into his thin wrists - he didn't have the strength to stand so he was simply hanging...blood was trickling down his wrist.
"At least I'm not thirsty anymore," Chekov thought, "The water took care of that." He'd found a morbid sense of humor now that he was so exhausted. So exhausted...because they hadn't let him sleep either...but he wouldn't betray his friends, his family.
Oddly enough, now that he was so tired, all he could think about was April. How she had once said that the only thing about space travel that scared her was torture. She'd smiled sheepishly as she told him how her grandfather had scared her half-to-death with stories of alien espionage and prisoners of war when she was little. They'd been the two youngest people at the Academy; but she had been almost seventeen when they'd started and had managed to weed herself into the group. She'd been the Admiral's grand-daughter, untouchable but desirable…and she'd befriended him long before anyone else had. She joked that Chekov had passed her – he was on the bridge and she was in engineering now! But he only felt like he'd caught up to something almost as elusive as wind…yeah, Chekov knew he was delirious now…
The Klingons entered the room again. Silver Sash stepped forward.
"We're done with games," he growled. "You die now."
Chekov managed to lift his head and looked the Klingon in the eye. He wasn't scared anymore.
"Отвяжись," Chekov said quietly, his eyes shining with a defiance that secretly impressed the Klingon before him.
He has honor, the Klingon thought. However, most humans did not so he was still going to kill the boy before him.
The Klingon raised his sword...
(Author's Note: Please review )