Irinia
by
Donna M Moschek
"She's dead, Pavel...they all are,"
Doctor McCoy's gruff voice was very gentle. It wouldn't of mattered if he'd screamed those words...Chekov's reaction wouldn't have
changed. He opened his mouth once, twice before any sound escaped
"...Irina..."
The breathed name left his lips, filled with as much emotion as a declaration of love. Grief hit him so heavily, he actually caved beneath
it, sliding to the sickbay's sterile floor.
"...Irina..."
And suddenly, Pavel was back in the halls of the academy, a cadet, striding down the hallway with same happy confidence every senior
had.
And something more...
Once again, Pavel touched the ring in his pocket, and thought of her.
Irina...With her long brown hair and easy smile...
This would be the decision of his life. If Irina agreed to marry him, he would leave StarFleet like she'd wanted him to...leave with her and
live with her...
IF she didn't agree...
Well, Pavel hadn't thought that far ahead yet.
He paused in front her door, hesitating to punch in the door code he knew by heart.
What if she did say no?
But she wouldn't, he thought hastily, hadn't she already said that she loved him?
With that conviction in mind, he punched her door code in the number pad, the doors whoooooooooooosed open, and...
Her room was completely empty.
Not just the occupant gone, but also all her things. The bed was stripped down, it's blankets and sheets folded neatly on the side. Her
posters had vanished, the ones that Chekov had more than once called silly. Her strange outfits had flown away, leaving the closet
looking bare. Even the small hologram of himself he'd given her, that had always sat beside her bed, had disappeared. Of all the terrible
things he'd imagined in preparation for this day, he had not expected this. Everything...including Irina, was gone.
After eight hours of searching through the city for her, amongst their close friends, her favorite clubs...Pavel had not found her, but
found his answer. She had gone, with that loony Dr. Sevrin, the mad man the students avoided on campus. She had gone and would
never come back. He thought long and hard about this, about how she'd always chastised him for being too serious, too studious, too
solemn...about how she always laughed at him, and her infectious laughter made him laugh...about basing one of the biggest decisions
of his life on her acceptance of a silly gold band and precious few words.
He felt sick. Alone. Impossibly stupid. Pavel hauled himself up on a stone parapet overlooking the San Fransisco Bay, the gray waters
inducing a certain Slavic melancholy in their hypnotic dance. He took a ring from his pocket, a gold band he was still making payments
on. He reread the inscription for the thousandth time, reverently, the prayer that had kept him searching the entire day.
"Our Love-"
He pulled back his arm, the ring in his fist.
"Will Last-"
Threw the ring with all his might into the air.
"Forever"
He heard it reassuringly plop into the water. It took him an hour to decide not to dive in along with it. He satisfied himself by just making a
solemn vow that he would never love Irina again. And, just to spite her, he would be the best Star Fleet Officer there ever was.
"It was the "Synthococus novae", Chekov, the disease that Doctor Sevrin had that killed her...they all had it...it was only a matter of
time..."
Pavel didn't raise his eyes from the white tiles, it was too heavy a task to preform right now.
Dr Sevrin...it seemed ironic. The day before Irina had disappeared, she and Pavel had had lunch together. Dr. Sevrin had been near
the dining hall solicitating his cause to the cadets as the headed for their midday meal. "He's such a vind bag, " Pavel had said. And
Irina just looked at him. Not in displeasure, not in accordance...just simply an inexplicable look.
She'd never even said good-bye...just that look...
"Pavel?"
Doctor McCoy's voice cut through his sad, sick daze.
"Are you going to be alright, son?"
"I'll be fine..."The young Russian answered. No sooner then he spoke, his voice broke. "I'll be fine...I'll be..." He stopped, tears spilling
from his sable eyes. He'd broken the vow he'd made, so rejected, those many years ago...he still loved her. Pavel collapsed forward
onto McCoy's fatherly shoulder, sobbing.
The Doctor kneeled there on the floor, his arm around the shaking ensign. The physician in him called it stress and trauma, but the
human in him called it heart break. So, he sat and listened to Chekov cry out in a whisper, " I loved her!"
"I loved her!"
"I loved her!"
"I LOVED her!"