"It is only in our darkest hours that we may discover the true strength of the brilliant light within ourselves that can never, ever, be dimmed."

― Doe Zantamata

"Come on, Pav, you can do it. Side-step, inward-kick, wrist bend. Keep your eyes forward. One more time".

Sulu watches his younger friend wipe away the sweat from his forehead with frustration before returning to a defensive stance.

They've been at this for a good two hours now; Sulu's just recently been teaching Chekov proper self-defense techniques. Now that he'd be attending more away missions, Chekov wanted to be properly trained to handle any kind of situation; especially any physical altercations.

Sulu focuses his attention back to the boy. Chekov nods once to signal he's ready.

Quick as lightning, Sulu punches forward and Chekov immediately slides to the right. The boy grabs onto Sulu's arm, forces a well-placed inward kick at his knee, and then turns to deliver the final blow. But as Chekov goes to bend the helmsman's wrist backward, there's a moment of hesitation, and Sulu immediately repositions himself around so that he now has Chekov's arm behind his back in a compromising position. Sulu takes his free leg and sweeps the boy's legs out from under him and Chekov falls face first toward the floor.

The younger man hits the training mat with a forceful thud.

"You almost had it that time," Sulu praises as he releases the boy's arm. He straightens up and brushes the hair from his eyes.

Chekov doesn't seem content with the compliment. He mumbles angrily as he pushes himself up to his feet and brushes his clothes off.

"No, I didn't," he mutters back, frustrated as he massages the muscles on his sore arm. "I vasn't even close."

Sulu gives the kid a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Sure you were. You did perfectly fine up until the end. We just have to work on your takedown is all".

Chekov isn't convinced, irritation still settled on his face.

"Give yourself some credit, Pav," Sulu offers. "You don't learn self-defense overnight. You've been making a lot of progress."

"I guess," Chekov shrugs, still a bit doubtful. He looks up. "Should we go again?"

Sulu shakes his head. "Nah. Let's call it a day. Besides I want to get to the dinning hall. I'm starving."

"You're alvays starving," Chekov comments sarcastically.

"Very true. But now especially so."

Chekov rolls his eyes as he makes his way over to his bag and begins packing his stuff into it.

Sulu does the same, tossing belongings haphazardly into his duffel.

It's about five seconds later that a sudden siren pierces through the peaceful silence.

Both men look up in confusion at the sound.

"The emergency alarm?" Chekov mutters, puzzled.

Sulu glances around the room, observing the distressing red lights flashing on and off.

"Well this can't be good," he comments as he takes a step toward the exit.

And as if on cue, the doors to the training room burst wide open; or rather explode open considering they're off their hinges and halfway across the room in a single second.

Sulu immediately pushes Chekov back a few steps; watching with tense breath as three figures step into the room: all masked and dressed completely in black.

The helmsman sizes the intruders up: all three have a good two inches on him, plus they're rather well-built and tall.

The one in front, the leader he'd assume, takes a step forward. The man gives a quick, even order over his shoulder that Sulu doesn't catch, and then points to both him and Chekov.

"Shit," Sulu mumbles. He takes a a few steps backward to match the ones the two other men take forward. He glances from side to side quickly and his eyes land on the fencing rack.

Side-eyeing the men quickly, he makes a quick grab for one of the foils.

Sulu steps back in front of Chekov and puts a protective arm out.

"Go out the back door," he mumbles lowly to the young boy. "Get to a comm and find help".

"What about you?" Chekov snaps, not intent on leaving his friend behind.

"I can hold my own," Sulu replies back, brandishing his sword as the two men quickly approach. "Get to Kirk. Go".

He can hear Chekov give a quick, frustrated sigh. "Okay," he promptly agrees.

The boy turns to head for the other exit. Sulu positions himself in his ready stance; eyeing up his opponents as they unsheathe knives from their belts.

"Awesome," Sulu grumbles sarcastically at the sight of the glinting weapons.

He's too busy formulating his plan of attack to hear the door behind him swish open.

"Sulu…" He hears Chekov call nervously.

The older man spares a cautionary glance over his shoulder and is met with the sight of two more masked men in black. They look just as strong and muscled as the other three.

Chekov slowly steps away until he's back to back with Sulu.

The older helmsman takes in the situation. The five strangers have stopped approaching for favor of just surrounding himself and Chekov. The odds are against them: two to five is way unbalanced, especially considering all they have for defense is some spare gym equipment.

All in all, things are not looking good.

"You have a plan?" Chekov whispers, eyeing the strangers warily.

"Not exactly," Sulu replies. He racks his brain; trying to come up with anything that has the possibility of saving them.

"You remember the dodge-and-hit technique I taught you a few week ago?" He asks.

"Side-step, duck, punch?" Chekov offers.

"That's the one," Sulu replies. "Just focus on that. And the second you get the chance, make a break for the exit. Understand?"

With his close proximity to the boy, he can nearly feel Chekov nod his head in confirmation.

"Got it," the boy says.

The two command officers stand there, back to back, waiting. No one moves. They barely breathe.

There's a beat.

And then all hell breaks loose.

The four men charge while the fifth one Sulu earlier identified as the leader stays behind; as if to observe, not participate.

Sulu crashes weapons with the biggest of the attackers first. The fencing foil isn't a strong as the man's knife, but it's longer, and gives him considerable distance when striking.

He clashes once, twice. He parries, ducks, and makes a sweep around the man. He takes a swipe and catches the man across the arm. It doesn't break skin, after all it's only a practice sword, but Sulu knows it will still burn furiously where the metal grazed skin.

What he wouldn't give to have his katana right now.

He delivers a roundhouse kick to the lower half of the man's left side and sends him sprawling. Sulu has minimal time to recover as the second attacker takes a swing at him. He blocks with his foil and forces the man's arm upward, but unfortunately his strength isn't enough to keep it there.

The attacker swipes the knife down across the foil and gets a slice in on Sulu's left shoulder. The helmsman hisses in pain as he feels the warm blood trickle down his arm. The momentary distraction puts him off guard and he's roughly knocked to the ground with a forceful punch to his chest.

He lands on his back and the wind is partly knocked out of him. He recovers and rolls quickly to the right; narrowly missing a kick to the face.

Sulu's back on his feet and so are both men. If he has one advantage, it's that one of them is now limping thanks to that kick he'd given earlier. They quickly begin approaching him on both sides, indicating a simultaneous attack.

Sulu glances to his right and sees Chekov duck quickly under a punch and then deliver a side kick to his attacker's stomach. The boy seems to be faring well. The two men nearly double his size are having an apparent hard time getting hold of the quick-footed ensign.

Give 'em hell, Sulu thinks as he turns back toward his own opponents.

The two men charge him from both sides and Sulu does a side-flip over the one to his left. He spins a leg and sweeps the one man off his feet, sending him straight into the solid floor. Acting quickly, he uses the downed attacker as a springboard and leaps off the man's back and into the air, bringing his foil down on the second attacker.

The man blocks the hit with his knife, but Sulu knows he has the upper hand. He forces the knife downward, creating an opening just big enough to land a punch on.

He's nearly done it when his opponent yells out ferociously and grabs his knife with both hands. Sulu watches the man thrust both arms upward and in a moment of surprise, Sulu's grip on his foil loosens. The thin sword is launched from his hands and into the air.

Immediately, the man throws a punch and Sulu isn't quick enough to duck it. The hit catches him straight on the right cheek and knocks him to the floor. The attacker quickly grabs his shoulders and knees him straight in the chest, this effectively causing him to lose every bit of air in his lungs as he's catapulted backward.

Sulu meets the ground with a painful thud; struggling to breathe inward as he gasps painfully for air.

The man who's beaten him his there in seconds, grabbing the front of his shirt on hoisting him roughly to his feet.

Sulu is unable to reciprocate as the stranger wraps a strong arm around his neck. All he can do is try in vain the pull at the solid grip. It's of no use.

The helmsman glances at Chekov and he can't help but let a small bit of pride well up at the sight of the boy fighting so hard. But the moment doesn't last. The man with his arm around Sulu's neck tightens his grip and suddenly calls out.

"Hey!" The voice bellows across the gym. Sulu can do nothing but watch as Chekov freezes and then turns toward the direction of the shout. He sees the ensign's eyes widen ever slightly in fear before the man he'd been holding off finally lands a punch to the side of the kid's face. Chekov plummets to the floor.

"No!" Sulu yells out. He struggles fervently against the grip around him, but he's already feeling slightly lightheaded from the lack of air he's getting.

The man who sent Chekov sprawling gives a forceful kick to the fallen ensign, most likely out of frustration. The resounding thud hits Sulu's hears like a train.

"Son of a bitch!" He screams out. "Leave him alone!"

The man seemingly ignores him, yet doesn't attack Chekov again; rather, he lifts him by the scruff of his shirt until he's standing, albeit somewhat shaky. The boy's nose is bleeding and he's got a small cut on his cheek.

Sulu kicks out, once again trying to undo the steel-like grip on him. When he fails to do so, he yells in frustration.

"What do you want!" He shouts angrily.

The men do not reply. They simply stand there, waiting.

The leader, who Sulu had completely forgotten about until now, comes into the helmsman's view. He looks over the young man, top to bottom, not saying a single word.

Sulu continues to struggle.

The man turns and does the same to Chekov, looking the boy over with the utmost scrutiny.

A few moments of tense silence pass.

Finally, the leader turns back toward the man who has a grip on Sulu. He nods once before finally speaking.

"Let's go," he orders evenly.

It's the last thing that Sulu hears, bar Chekov's screaming his name, before something collides violently with the back of his head, and darkness overtakes him.

Happy early Christmas everyone! I know this probably seems like it came out of nowhere, but that's because it pretty much did. I was working on the latest update for All the Little Things when I had an idea about a new story. It kind of snowballed from there and now we've ended up here. I'm excited for this new story. I'll try and get the next chapter out soon. So until then, let me know what you think with a review. I hope you guys all have a fantastic holiday!