After a recent rewatch of my favorite Trek movies--the "Spock trilogy" consisting of TWOK, TSFS, and TVH and a reread of Vonda McIntyre's excellent novelizations of TWOK and TSFS (the TVH novelization isn't in the iBooks store) I got to thinking about how Sulu, Uhura, and Chekov must have felt after the Enterprise-A warped off into the end credits. After all, the events of those films essentially derailed their careers and plunked them right back where they'd been twenty years earlier!
Also, I wanted to try something with Chekov's dialogue. I really really REALLY hate writing it like "Keptin! Vhwat are ve goink to do about thet beeg wessel?" because it makes him sound like a Muppet. But if you write "normal" dialogue then it doesn't sound like Chekov. So what I've tried to do here is give his syntax a Russian accent. Anyway, the brief scene that follows is part of a little something I'm working on that takes place right after the events of The Voyage Home. Since there's no law that says fanfic has to adhere to the Official Star Trek Canon Policy, I've chosen to adopt the notion from Vonda McIntyre's novelizations that Sulu was up for command of the Excelsior before the events of TWOK, and I'm completely disregarding Star Trek V. Sic the Canon Police on me if you must.
Please let me know what you think:
“It is punishment,” Pavel Chekov declared. He was sitting, along with Uhura and Sulu, in the sunken crescent-shaped area at the aft end of the new Enterprise’s Officer’s Lounge, watching the stars streak by outside the four large viewports that arced overhead. It was virtually identical to the lounge on the old ship, except that the beige, orange, and brown color palette had given way to a more modern blue, silver, and grey one.
“Oh, come on, Pavel,” Uhura chided. “Aren’t you exaggerating just a little?”
“Am I? Six months ago, I am First Officer on Reliant. Hikaru is up for promotion and command of Excelsior, and you are adjutant to Admiral Kirk, which everyone knows is precursor to a command of your own. Now look at us. Back at the same posts we had twenty years ago.”
“We have our ranks,” Sulu pointed out.
“But nothing else,” Chekov said. “It does not matter that we save the Earth, rescue Mr. Spock, and stop the Klingons at Genesis. We disobey orders, so Starfleet must punish us.”
“No one forced you to stay,” Uhura said. The media had started hailing the “Enterprise Seven” as heroes about five minutes after the rescue craft fished them out of San Francisco Bay, and each of them had been deluged with lucrative offers from the private sector.
“Of course, but it’s no use,” Chekov replied before taking sip of his coffee. “I want to see the galaxy, not be board member for some dilithium company.”
Sulu and Uhura laughed just as the intercom whistled. “Mr. Sulu, please report to the bridge,” the voice of Lieutenant Kittay, the Beta shift communications officer, filtered through the intercom next to the couch where Sulu and Uhura sat.
Hikaru reached over and thumbed the commpanel. “Sulu here, on my way.” He got up to leave.
“I bet it’s a message from Starfleet,” Chekov said. “They are breaking you back down to Lieutenant.”
Sulu laughed at his friend’s pessimism as he trotted up the steps and headed for the door.
Chekov looked over his coffee cup at Uhura. “We’re probably next. I’m going to be the oldest Ensign in history.”
Also, I wanted to try something with Chekov's dialogue. I really really REALLY hate writing it like "Keptin! Vhwat are ve goink to do about thet beeg wessel?" because it makes him sound like a Muppet. But if you write "normal" dialogue then it doesn't sound like Chekov. So what I've tried to do here is give his syntax a Russian accent. Anyway, the brief scene that follows is part of a little something I'm working on that takes place right after the events of The Voyage Home. Since there's no law that says fanfic has to adhere to the Official Star Trek Canon Policy, I've chosen to adopt the notion from Vonda McIntyre's novelizations that Sulu was up for command of the Excelsior before the events of TWOK, and I'm completely disregarding Star Trek V. Sic the Canon Police on me if you must.
Please let me know what you think:
“It is punishment,” Pavel Chekov declared. He was sitting, along with Uhura and Sulu, in the sunken crescent-shaped area at the aft end of the new Enterprise’s Officer’s Lounge, watching the stars streak by outside the four large viewports that arced overhead. It was virtually identical to the lounge on the old ship, except that the beige, orange, and brown color palette had given way to a more modern blue, silver, and grey one.
“Oh, come on, Pavel,” Uhura chided. “Aren’t you exaggerating just a little?”
“Am I? Six months ago, I am First Officer on Reliant. Hikaru is up for promotion and command of Excelsior, and you are adjutant to Admiral Kirk, which everyone knows is precursor to a command of your own. Now look at us. Back at the same posts we had twenty years ago.”
“We have our ranks,” Sulu pointed out.
“But nothing else,” Chekov said. “It does not matter that we save the Earth, rescue Mr. Spock, and stop the Klingons at Genesis. We disobey orders, so Starfleet must punish us.”
“No one forced you to stay,” Uhura said. The media had started hailing the “Enterprise Seven” as heroes about five minutes after the rescue craft fished them out of San Francisco Bay, and each of them had been deluged with lucrative offers from the private sector.
“Of course, but it’s no use,” Chekov replied before taking sip of his coffee. “I want to see the galaxy, not be board member for some dilithium company.”
Sulu and Uhura laughed just as the intercom whistled. “Mr. Sulu, please report to the bridge,” the voice of Lieutenant Kittay, the Beta shift communications officer, filtered through the intercom next to the couch where Sulu and Uhura sat.
Hikaru reached over and thumbed the commpanel. “Sulu here, on my way.” He got up to leave.
“I bet it’s a message from Starfleet,” Chekov said. “They are breaking you back down to Lieutenant.”
Sulu laughed at his friend’s pessimism as he trotted up the steps and headed for the door.
Chekov looked over his coffee cup at Uhura. “We’re probably next. I’m going to be the oldest Ensign in history.”
