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Afterwards he thinks he should have known. Things are never that easy. Not out here, not in the never-ending darkness and chaos and cruel, cruel beauty of space.
But in the beginning, all Sulu is thinking about is how he needs to visit the Botany Bay and then grab something quick to eat before his shift, and how boring it will be with Chekov planet-side instead of at the helm beside him. They have plans for dinner, but they’ll have to reschedule. Kirk wants Chekov to get a bit more experience on the ground, and it’s hard to ignore the excitement in Chekov’s eyes when he talks all night about seeing the stars from a planet on the edge of the known universe. Sulu doesn’t think for a second about the risk. Despite the Enterprise’s reputation for attracting trouble, things have been quiet lately. That probably should have been a sign.
He sees Chekov off before heading up to the bridge. Pavel is waiting for him in the transporter room, smiling brightly and bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. He’s been restless for the past few weeks, an unfortunate side effect of spending two years in space. Sulu doesn’t blame him. If he could, he’d be on the away team too, but there simply isn’t a need or space for him, and even Spock is staying behind. He makes his goodbyes quick, a smile and a wave on the way out. He regrets it later.
Chekov sends him messages every five minutes during his shift. Sulu knows he shouldn’t read personal communications at the helm, but after all, it could be something important about the mission. At least, that’s what he tells Spock, and even though the first officer clearly knows it’s bullshit he lets it pass. There isn’t much piloting for Sulu to do when they’re locked in a steady orbit anyway. Mostly the messages detail some fascinating aspect of the atmosphere or some plant Chekov thinks Sulu would like. Of course, that pretty much includes all plants, but Chekov doesn’t like the ones that are possibly carnivorous and refuses to get near them. He sends Sulu a bunch of pictures of the mostly harmless ones before night falls. The days on this planet are short, and Pavel prefers the night and the view it provides him.
“Life down here is so different from what we know, Hikaru,” Pavel says at one point. “It is truly… alien. I mean, everything around here is alien, and I know you are laughing at me right now for saying so, but this… is different. Is beautiful. You will come with me next time, yes?”
“Yes.” Sulu immediately replies. “I’d love to see it.” He means it.
When Chekov doesn’t send anything for a while, Sulu doesn’t think anything of it. Chekov gets distracted sometimes, and the captain might have asked him to catalogue or calculate something. It’s usually nothing to worry about.
Except this time it’s different.
Because this time, the sound of yelling erupts from Spock’s communicator, and then the sound of some sort of weapon firing, and then Sulu is frantically accessing the location of the away team because something is terribly, terribly wrong. Spock yells for Sulu to follow him, and as they’re racing down to the transportation room, Sulu briefly has time to contemplate that Spock must know that something is going on between him and Chekov, or else he wouldn’t have let him come. He feels a rush of gratitude, and then he feels something he couldn’t possibly describe, because the away team is beaming back and even before the golden light fades Sulu can see that Chekov is bleeding.
It’s there like some ugly stain on his side, and bizarrely Sulu thinks of the time that Chekov got incredibly drunk on shore leave and spilt cranberry juice all over himself at a bar. They had gone home laughing, and Sulu let Pavel borrow his jacket to cover his mess of a shirt. But this isn’t cranberry juice, and neither of them are laughing now.
Chekov is only conscious for a moment before he collapses, but there isn’t any fear in his eyes. Sulu reaches for him, but Dr. McCoy is already there telling him to get out of the goddamn way. Sulu follows the stretcher down to sickbay. He’s never been exceptionally religious, but Chekov is, so he prays harder than he’s ever done anything in his life. He prays, and he begs, and he cries, looking out at the distant stars and asking them to spare Pavel.
A nurse finds Sulu sitting in the hallway and informs him that Chekov isn’t doing well. It’s some kind of alien technology, something invented by the life forms that shouldn’t have been there in the first place, something they haven’t seen before, and they aren’t sure how to fix the damage that it’s caused.
Sulu knows very little for certain in this life.
He knows that he is meant to be a pilot. He knows that Chekov is meant to be his navigator. They belong in space. These things have never been in question. From the moment he stepped on to the ship, still young and silly and inexperienced, he knew he was where he was meant to be. And when he saw Chekov sitting there at the helm, he knew that was right too. There may be many different realities, many different possibilities, but here, in this time, in this place, this is the only way it can be.
Sulu knows very, very little for certain, but he knows Chekov is meant to live a long, prosperous, happy life. He is meant to die old, peacefully, in his sleep someday, dreaming of the stars he loves so dearly.
It may not be what the universe gives him, but it’s what he deserves.
They have to postpone their dinner plans for a week while Chekov recovers. Sulu doesn’t mind at all.
Because life may never be fair, and perhaps their lives won’t be certain either, but while Chekov is by his side, he’ll let himself believe everything is alright. The universe is waiting, and they’ll discover all the wonders of the stars together.