candothat | Entries tagged with departures

[Chekov knows that he shouldn't be surprised when his failed attempts to contact Captain Kirk lead him to the Hall of the Missing and, ultimately, the realization that the majority of the remaining crew of the Enterprise is no longer in the City. Disappearances frequently happen in groups. Spock, Kirk, McCoy, Uhura... most of them had come and gone before this, too. Chekov really should know better than to be surprised. Kirk might be able to bend the rules at home, but it was foolish to hope, even for a moment, that he would be capable of doing the same in the City.

It's tempting to stay off of the network and immerse himself in a project, but his crewmates were well-liked and it's only right to keep the friends they have made informed.]

Captain Kirk, Doctor McCoy, and Lieutenant Uhura are no longer in the City.

[Brief, formal, to-the-point. Unfortunately, one other party needs to be contacted.]

[Starfleet Comm Frequency // Unhackable]

Lieutenant Sulu and I are now the only officers of the Enterprise in the City.

[In other words: your orders, Captain Janeway?]

[COMMENTS]

[The video opens to--well, not much of anything. It's night; the stars are visible, and Chekov's face is lit by the dim glow of his network device. He's remarkably subdued, but he typically does only pause to make network posts when he's in a low or contemplative mood.]

For anyone who has not heard already and knew them, Lena and Asami are no longer in the City. I did not know Asami as well as I wish I might have, but Lena was a good friend. At least she will be happy to be home... she did not like being in the City.

[And changing topics. No one wants to dwell on the negative.]

I have two questions. First, does anyone know how the ship on the side of the mountain came to be where it is? I went inside of it, but there was nothing informative there and most of it was, I think, inaccessible. It looks to me like a spacecraft. I have heard stories in the City of aliens and creatures coming from beyond the barriers, but nothing related to a ship like this.

My second question is this: is it common to experience memory loss in the City? If not, should I be concerned? My medical knowledge is very limited, but if there is something wrong with my brain, I would like to know. It is, after all, the most important thing that I have.

[He ends the feed with a forced smile.]

[COMMENTS]

[The scene: a roof. Which roof is unclear, but, judging from the book and notebooks visible in the dim glow of the network device's screen, Chekov was probably stargazing. Of course. What else would a sensible person be doing on a roof in the middle of the night?]

I have asked this question to individuals, but I am curious: what, generally, is the opinion on becoming attached to others here? From what I have heard and read, most seem to think that suffering the loss of someone they have become close to when they leave the City is a small price to pay for companionship. Then there are a few--or maybe there are not so few as I think--who would prefer to stay unattached to avoid being hurt. Is this assessment correct?

And those who, in theory, believe that it is wisest not to grow close to people... are they successful, or do they form attachments in spite of what they believe to be best for themselves?

[His tone is one of genuine curiosity. This is not a rhetorical question.]

I am of two minds on the subject, but I dislike the thought of being alone for however long I may stay here enough to make remaining unattached distasteful. And, when I am not theorizing and simply talking to others, it is impossible not to form friendships. Even though friends will leave and forget all experiences in the City, I keep making them, and it seems very foolish and maybe reckless when I think about it--making friends, I mean--but I feel it is better to accept loss.

It is like home, in some ways. I have always been moving and now, at home, I am in a position where having friends die is very possible and has happened. Is it different, losing a friend to death and having a friend leave the City? Logically, death should be more difficult to accept, I think, but I am not finding that so.

[A contemplative pause.]

The curse where we were turned into dogs--there was a little girl who was good enough to feed me, and I would like to thank her now that I am a person again. I think she was ten, maybe, and very pale, with light hair.

As to this last weekend's curse, no, Lucy and I are not married, although she is very kind and I mean no insult to her when I say that I am pleased to be unmarried again. Sincere apologies to anyone who was anticipating the reception.

[Filtered to the Deities // Unhackable]

Hello. When you have a moment, I would like to discuss another exchange with you, please.

[COMMENTS]

[Oddly enough, there's no video accompanying this particular entry.]

I have been thinking, and it seems--at the risk of sounding Vulcan--illogical, putting effort into anything in the City. Yes, I realize that this way of thinking can be applied to life as a whole, but in the City, memory is so-- [a long pause, during which, one imagines, Chekov gestures wildly in an attempt to find the correct word] --tenuous?

What I mean is, at home, we are constantly learning, accumulating knowledge and, unless something out of the ordinary happens, what we learn never leaves us. And even when we die, there is something of our existence left... memories, a legacy--something. Memories may not last forever, and we are forgotten as those who knew us or have heard of us die also, but in the City... how long do memories of anyone last? Six years? Five?

That is not to say that I believe we should stop doing things here, in the City. As one of my professors would have said, work, activity, and social interactions are important to the well-being of humans and humanoids, even if none of the results are lasting, but it bothers me to think that there is nothing that I will retain from the time spent here. I cannot imagine that--living here and learning, only to forget once I leave. And those I have come to know, when they leave, will have no memory of what happened here. That--everyone forgetting--seems more final than death.

It bothers me more than death, I think. Maybe that is only because death is a phenomenon that I understand and have some familiarity with; maybe it is vanity speaking and I dislike the thought of being forgotten so easily.

Mostly, I am very attached to my mind. There is nothing that I value more than what I have learned and what I remember, and I do not want that taken away.

[He almost sounds... upset? But then, just as cheerfully as ever--]

Howl, Sophie--have you seen Peter recently? I am beginning to become concerned.

[COMMENT]

[Most of Chekov's entries start with a nice shot of whatever project he's working on or a disjointed preamble. This one, however, simply starts.]

For those who knew them, Doctor Leonard McCoy and Theresa Gray have left the City.

[It was quite a shock to find them both gone once midnight had rolled around and the weekend's curse passed. Chekov is still a little too stunned to process the information himself, but it feels important to let the network know that they have left.

He pauses as if he would like to say something else. When no words come to mind, he goes with the sign-off that's standard when making ship-wide announcements at home.]

Thank you for your time.

[COMMENTS]

[The video starts with a shot of a car that, to those who know (or knew) Dean Winchester, will look very familiar. It's impeccably polished, gleaming even in the waning daylight.]

I now have a car.

[He sits down in front of the bumper (a move indicated by some very careless camera work) before rearranging the camera so that it points towards him. Chekov is, mercifully, wearing clothes. Fairly nondescript clothes, but clothes nonetheless.]

I cleaned her very well today, although she may get dusty when I drive her back home... after midnight, I think. [Because there's nothing more awkward than spending the day with your 19th century girlfriend when she's naked.]

Before you ask, yes, I am old enough to drive and yes, I can operate a vehicle like this. I have a license to pilot anything as large as a military shuttlecraft, and that is not so maneuverable. The Impala is the first ground vehicle I have piloted outside of a simulator and, although I know very little about vehicles as old as she is, I think that she handles well. Maybe she would be better off with Sulu--he has many hobbies, and twentieth century cars must be one of them--but I will be careful with her.

I am trying to decide which is better: driving or riding a horse. Driving is simpler, but when I knew how to ride a horse, that was more exciting. Horses are easier to find, also. I have been visiting the barn where they live to talk to them--the horses. The brown one stabled there is a good listener.

[His somewhat pensive and subdued mood (not a normal mood for Chekov) becomes very serious as he jumps to a new topic.]

What I also mean to say today is that no one else that I know is allowed to leave the City without telling me, not even if you leave a car for me.

[He knows just as well as anyone else that no one can control when and how they leave, but it's a nice, empty threat to end the video on.]

[COMMENTS]

Current Mood: pensive

Pavel Andreievich Chekov

Lieutenant, Serial #656-5827B

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