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star trek xi - pavel chekov

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[Chekov is in the cottage's living room, red engineering uniform on, surrounded by all of the things he can't take home with him. (The important things are in a dufflebag and a backpack, and Everett is coming along, too. A genius can probably think of a way to explain the suitcase, the dog, and the decidedly non-regulation haircut, right?) He's smiling at the network device. No need to end on a teary note.]

I have been here for seven-hundred and twenty-four days. It would have been two years, as of the sixth of March. Not so long as many people, but I have outstayed most of my crew--some of them twice--and the majority of friends I made when I first arrived. Overall, I have been happy--happier, sometimes, than I am at home. But I will be glad to return. I last left home during a difficult time, and there will be many funerals and speeches to endure before our long leave, and after leave, the five-year mission. Everett will go to Petersburg to live with my father; he is lonely and will enjoy the company. I will have the chance to see the stars from Earth. I've missed them, more since I traded my memory of them to the witches in October. Maybe the memory will return.

Mostly, I'm glad that I will keep my memories. Forgetting has been my greatest fear about leaving. Too many memories, bad and good but all important, have been made in the City to be forgotten. It will be strange since almost no one will have any of these memories, and I may find it difficult to explain some things, such as aging slightly. But memories! Those are more valuable to me than anything else I am taking with me. As long as I remember those I have met, leaving will not be so hard as it would be otherwise.

I will not go into a long discussion of memories and friends because it is too soon for nostalgia, but I want to share an old Russian saying: If all the options are bad, choose the one that hurts the least. None of us, I think, are happy to be leaving, even if we miss our homes. Personally, I'm unsure if I have made the decision that hurts the least, but it is the right one. I hope that for you, my friends and even those who are not my friends, the option that hurts the least is also the right one. Try not to be too sad. As long as we all go home with our memories, we will continue to exist in the lives of one another. Saying goodbye does not erase someone from your life.

There is one more Russian saying I want to share, and it is a happier one, I promise. Nothing is permitted and everything is possible. This is my favorite saying. The City has proven it true, and it will always prove true in our futures. Maybe we will meet again. The laws of physics may not allow it, but it is not impossible.

Also, is there anyone remaining in the City who would like a motorcycle? I have a very nice one, but it is too cumbersome to take it with me.

And finally, I would like to say goodbye to most of you in person. This is no way to say goodbye.

[Private to the Voyager Crew]

I wanted to have something clever or insightful to say to you, but all I can think of is thank you. I had forgotten what it was like to be a part of a crew until mine arrived, and when they left, you allowed me to be a part of yours. I will always be grateful for this. Thank you also for sharing some of your science with me. Captain Janeway, I promise that I will not use any advancements from beyond my time, except, perhaps, for personal use.

If I am still alive in your time and you return home--and you will return home--please say hello. That me will be very different from me, but he will like meeting new people and discussing whatever scientific advancements will be current. If I am not still alive, I hope that I died very heroically. Should that be the case, don't be sad.

Maybe interuniversal travel will be mastered in your lifetimes. If that is so, I hope to see you.

[Private to Lucy]

I know that you will not want to say goodbye in person. Please reconsider? You are my first girlfriend and my first everything else and I think I will keep being too in love with you to fall in love again, so please, I would like to see you a final time.

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I'll look you up, when we get there.

Look for "Admiral Chekov." I intend to live at least long enough to earn that title.

Those are good words to live by. Very Russian.

Which ones? The first saying is, I think, flawed, but the second is good.

The first saying is a little - how to put it. Choose the lesser evil, but don't try to make it less evil? I guess I agree, it's flawed.

What you must understand about Russian sayings is that they never encourage the banishment of misery, only the minimization of it. As a people, we would not know what to do with ourselves if we were not suffering in some way.

This is why a people needs smaller lands, less unforgiving winters, and access to a warm sea.

There is a saying for this--something that Dr. McCoy says. Suffering builds character? We Russians are very proud of our character.

I'm sorry we didn't have more time.

You mean a lot to me.

As am I. You are brilliant, and, perhaps with more time...

[He trails off since he doesn't really know what to say.]

You also mean a lot to me. In another time, maybe, I would have loved you very much.

It's not that I don't want to.

[ She hesitates a moment. ]

I won't want to let you go.

Lucy. I have something for you.

Maybe it will make it easier to let go.

[ There's a long pause. This is tearing her up inside, but it will tear her up inside regardless of whether she sees him again or not. She's already packed her bags with everything she's taking back. There's a good deal of stuff that reminds her of Pavel. She's reached a point where she's decided that she wants to remember and she wants to just live through the pain.]

Okay. Did you want to come here or...

What do you prefer? I think that I will leave the cottage soon. I can meet you where you are, or we can meet by the doors...

[He's kept it together this long, but now it's real. The doors are real. Today may be the last time he sees Lucy.]

[ She takes a deep breath, fighting against the urge to cry.] I don't know if I can keep it together at the doors. Maybe somewhere close to them, but not there?

[ She's not coping very well with the whole idea of leaving. ]

[ A flash of light, and Q appears, dressed flamboyantly, and wearing quite the look of delight. He should be rather more cut up about this, but as of this morning he's felt like a new man, his powers all but unrestrained, freedom in his grasp.

And he can't leave without saying goodbye to Chekov. ]

I'm hurt. No special goodbye for me?

[Pavel is not surprised. He used to live with a wizard; there have been stranger entrances.]

Sorry. I was trying to avoid special goodbyes, mostly, so that no one would be left out.

And time and dimensions must mean little to you. Of everyone here, I think I am most likely to see you again.

[ Another flash, and now Q has an arm across Chekov's shoulder, and the dog is whining at his heel until he kicks a juicy steak out of the ether with the slightest flick of his elegant toe. He gives Chekov a manly squeeze. ]

Well, I'm not just anyone. I can hold a grudge for longer than anyone here, and then some. But who could ever be mad at a face like that?

[ He might just pinch Chekov's cheek. ]

You might see me again, I couldn't possibly comment. [ A pause. ] Would you like to?

[Both Everett and Chekov accept this change. Everett is exceptionally pleased, as he now has a steak. Q is going to be the dog's favorite person at this rate.]

My apologies. Should I have another occasion to give a parting speech, I will include you specifically.

[He's probably being a smartass. The puppy eyes make it hard to tell.]

Of course I would like to! Preferably on shore leave because I think Commander Spock would dislike you, but if you can find the time, yes, I would like a visit.

Of course I've finally gotten the vodka right.

[She's not going to say goodbye. That is just wrong and not a happy thing.]

You have? It is not too late for me to taste it!

Of course it's not! It's never too late.

[It'll be too late soon, but he isn't going to say it.]

Good! May I meet you in the square?

[She's not going to say it either. She doesn't want to think about it.]

Sure. I'm dodging my brother... well... more like ignoring him. I'll be by the fountain?

He is eager to have you home again? He can wait.

I'll see you there.

Exactly!

[She'll be lounging by the fountain, playing with the water idly. It splashes over her hand and swirls around dancing like a ballerina. Her brother is no where to be seen.]

[He arrives at the fountain with his dog, his dufflebag, and his backpack. Everything that's going home with him, aside, perhaps, from Isaak. Chekov smiles in greeting. There's some sadness there, of course; this is goodbye.]

You have managed to avoid your brother?

[It is good bye, but she keeps on the smile anyway. Smile for the good memories.]

I have managed to avoid him, yes, by locking him in a closet with a stray cat.

[She pulls out several bottles and then offers one to him.]

Here you go.

[Korra and Naga, along with Hamlet, head over to Chekov's house. She hopes he hasn't left yet; she'll be so pissed if he's left without saying goodbye. So much to do, not enough time. Never ever enough time.]

[Chekov isn't going to go until he absolutely has to (also, he's waiting for Isaak). He's sitting outside of the cottage with his bags and Everett, looking considerably more despondent than he's been letting on. He doesn't quite manage a convincing smile once he notices Korra and Naga.]

Hello, Korra. Naga. Hamlet.

You look miserable. [Naga nudges Chekov's shoulder affectionately as Korra settles on the ground next to him and Hamlet throws himself on his lap like a much smaller dog.]

I'm not. [He tries to hug Naga, Korra, and Hamlet all at once, which, of course, does not work.] My face is tired of pretending to be happy, that is all.

[For once, Pai isn't sleeping. It seems inefficient to sleep when there's so little time left. Lolling about in her bed, she pulls out her device and sends a message to Chekov.]

Where are you going?

[Chekov isn't sleeping, either. He's been doing as little sleeping as humanly possible since the doors appeared and time in the City became limited.]

Home to my job. That will be San Fransisko, 2259. And you?

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