Shining Star: A Pavel Chekov Fanfiction

Fifteen

Ensign Pavel Andreievich Chekov is seventeen years old when when he is assigned to the Enterprise.

He's watching the academic trial of James T. Kirk, whom he's only seen a few times on the Academy grounds. From what he's seen, Kirk practically struts across campus, like the whole universe is his. By now, the whole school has heard of Kirk beating the Kobayashi Maru. Well, not exactly beating. Chekov got a first-person account of it from Uhura. Apparently Kirk reprogrammed the computers so that the test, which was usually meant to be a no-win scenario, would be overridden and he could win after all. Chekov isn't sure how to feel about that—he knows it's morally wrong to cheat, but he also finds Kirk's actions pretty ingenious. In fact, he almost wishes he had the guts to do something similar.

But the Academy officials don't seem to share those feelings. To them, it's cheating, and that's all there is to it. And so Kirk has been placed on trial, and anyone in the school who's available to watch it is watching it.

At one point during the trial, Kirk demands to face off against his accuser, Mr. Spock, directly. Chekov knows of Mr. Spock: an Academy graduate, half-Vulcan and half-human, who takes no nonsense. It's said that he turned down a position in the Vulcan Science Academy to join Starfleet, but the logical side of his personality is evident in the way he calmly enlightens Kirk (as Kirk himself puts it).

Chekov is watching the interrogation with fascination, as if it's a tennis match, when it's interrupted by a message. There's a distress call from Vulcan, and one of the admirals instructs all cadets to report to Hangar One.

Chekov's heart leaps. Does this mean he's going to—no, it can't. He's too young, he's barely completed two years at the Academy...

He rushes off to Hangar One anyway with the rest of the cadets, all clad in their crimson uniforms. He scans the crowd, trying to find Sulu or Uhura or Gaila, but can't see anyone.

There's a commander reading off the cadets' names and the ships ro which they have been assigned. Chekov's heart hammers in his chest. As he listens, he manages to find Uhura in the crowd, talking to Spock about something. She has a dour expression on her face, until Spock presses some buttons on his Padd and she looks satisfied. Chekov wonders what that was about. He hopes he'll see her again.

He's jolted back to where he is when the commander reads off his name from the list: "Chekov, USS Enterprise."

The Enterprise!

He can hardly believe it at first. He's been assigned to the Enterprise! Everyone knows that's the top ship in the fleet, their flagship. He's done it. He's made it. He's been assigned to the Enterprise. This is what he's been waiting for, since he was three, even when he didn't realize it.

He just stands there for a second, grinning stupidly, until another cadet nudges him—"Well, don't just stand there," she says, "get to your ship!"—and he takes off.

The ship is every bit as beautiful as he has imagined it: sleek white surfaces, lights shining from every corner, computers programmed with the latest advances in technology. It's also massive—he wonders if he's going to get lost. That would be embarrassing. But he's been assigned as the navigator, and luckily, it's easy to find the bridge and his station on it. He can't help but smile, running his hand across the smooth surface of the navigational console. This is his ship now. His ship. He's going to see the stars up close. If only he could bring Toddler Pasha forward in time and show him this!

As if that wasn't good enough, he sees someone sit across from him at the navigational console: Sulu! God, he's so happy to see him here. He'd been worried, in the back of his mind, that the Enterprise would just be a blur of new, unfamiliar faces. That he'd know nobody. Not that he'd have as much trouble getting to know people anymore. But it's still nice to have Hikaru on board.

After a few attempts at getting them to warp—at first, Sulu had forgotten to disengage the external inertial dampener (Chekov recalls Uhura sitting on that bench next to him, reassuring him that everyone makes mistakes), but they finally manage to blast off—the captain, a man named Christopher Pike if Chekov remembers correctly, gestures to him. "Russian whizkid," he says, "what's your name?"

Russian whizkid. That's him! That's how he's been defined since he first entered school: the little studious Russian whizkid. He's tried to escape that title before. It led to people taking advantage of him, using him, taking him for someone young and naive. But now he knows that he is that Russian whizkid, and he is much more.

So he doesn't hesitate when he answers.

"Ensign Chekov, Pavel Andreievich, sir."