Star Trek: ALL - Seven Deadly Sins

by Dayton Ward

  Qao chortled. “First a warrior, now an investigator? You do have many talents today, Malvak. Get to the landing bay. This area will be sealed for one hour while security deals with it.”

  Malvak considered arguing, then realized that there was no point. Qao was hardly going to accept his word.

  An hour later, Sorkav—the head of security, and also the brother of the mining operation’s supervisor, Kobyk—had gone through the scene and declared the death an accident.

  Malvak was aghast. All the workers were filing back out of the landing bay and to their places of work to begin meeting the day’s quota—which would be complicated by the late start and by being one person short, though the latter affected only Qao’s section. Qao was thus likely to be even surlier than usual.

  “How does someone ’accidentally’ get his throat cut?” Malvak asked.

  The question was rhetorical, but a worker behind him—Nargov, who worked in Malvak’s section—answered. “I heard he was buried under a rockslide.”

  “No,” said another, “he tripped and cracked his skull on the wall.”

  Another—a HemQuch like Gahlar—said, “I would expect no less of a weak-head.”

  Whirling around, Malvak said, “I found the body! Krov’s throat was cut! That cannot be an accident!”

  “Quiet!” yelled Qao from in front of the queue. “Report to your duties in silence!”

  Malvak did not speak after that, but he was livid. His friend was dead, probably killed by Gahlar, and nothing would be done! Once a death in the mines was declared an accident, that was it. There would be no further investigation.

  Unlike Malvak, Krov had no family. He’d been born an orphan, and working in the Beta Thoridar mines was a step up from the other jobs he’d had over the years.

  So Malvak was truly the only one to mourn his death—and take action.

  Perhaps he would not be able to commend Krov’s spirit to Sto-Vo-Kor, but his friend’s death in this life would be avenged.

  That night, Malvak took the evening meal in the mess hall as usual. The room, which serviced all three asteroidal mines, was massive, with food pickup all along one wall, and three rows of twenty long tables with benches on either side. Generally, people sat based on which mine they worked: Site wa’ at the easternmost set of tables, Site cha’ in the center group, and Malvak and the rest of Site wej on the western end. The rear tables, farthest from the food pickup, were generally where the section chiefs, supervisors, and security personnel sat. The higher-ups, of course, had their own dining area.

  While Malvak sat alone at the end of one of the tables on the western side, several others in that area, and a few others besides, came by to offer their condolences about Krov.

  Nargov, in particular, was angry about how the situation was handled. “Sorkav is a filthy petaQ. All he cares about is the ridge-heads and the quotas. None of the rest of us matter.”

  “Indeed,” Malvak said. “Thank you.”

  Nargov offered his hand, and Malvak clasped it. Several HemQuch across the mess hall pointed and laughed at their engaging in a warrior’s handshake, but Malvak appreciated the gesture.

  After Nargov went back to his own meal, Malvak finished off his plate of half-dead gagh and washed it down with watery bloodwine. His meal concluded, he got up and walked toward the back wall, seeking out the one person who might be able to offer more than verbal support.

  While most of the higher-ups were HemQuch, there were a few exceptions. One of them, a QuchHa’ named Torad, also worked at Site wej, though he ran a different section. In fact, he was the only QuchHa’ who worked as a section chief.

  “I would speak with you,” Malvak said to Torad. Section chiefs didn’t eat with mere laborers, and HemQuch didn’t eat with QuchHa’, so Torad always ate alone at the far end of a table that was as far from the wall as possible while still being considered part of the place where the section chiefs sat. Malvak didn’t pity him, as Torad was well-compensated for his solitude. Section chiefs made more than twice as much as miners.

  Torad seemed confused by the declaration at first. “Qao is your section chief, Malvak. If you wish to speak—”

  “I have spoken to Qao, but he does not hear my words.”

  “And you believe I will?”

  “There is only one way to know.”

  Fumbling with the faded gray slab of bok-rat liver in one hand, Torad gestured to the bench opposite him with the other. “Sit.”

  Malvak took the seat offered. “Krov was murdered.”

  Chewing his liver, Torad said, “Sorkav ruled it an accident.”

  “Sorkav is a fool!”

  Torad hissed. “Keep your voice down, you stupid toDSaH! Sorkav has ears everywhere.”

  The ambient noise in the mess hall at the heart of dinner hour was so loud that Malvak found it unlikely that anyone eavesdropped. Still, he modulated his tone. “Sorkav was mistaken. I was the one who found the body, and his throat was cut. How is that an accident?”

  “You misunderstand me, Malvak. I’m not saying it was an accident. I am saying that Sorkav ruled it an accident. Sorkav’s word is law in such matters, and none may challenge him.”

  Malvak leaned forward to add urgency to his tone. “He did not perform a proper investigation. I found the body, yet he did not once ask me what I found. To Sorkav, it was just another dead QuchHa’, and who would miss that?”

  Torad rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a fool, Malvak. Sorkav has nothing against QuchHa’. He was the one who approved my promotion to section chief. All he cares about is maintaining order in the mines.”

  “You expect me to believe that?” Malvak laughed derisively. “Look around you, Torad. How many others besides yourself sit in this area of the mess hall?”

  “Plenty,” Torad said, pointing at a group of QuchHa’ sitting together toward the back of the middle set of tables, all wearing the dark jumpsuits of Sorkav’s security detail. “They all were hired by Sorkav.” He chewed on some more liver before continuing. “Look, I agree that there are some here who dislike our kind, but Sorkav is not one of them. He’s never treated me any differently than the other section chiefs. If it was anybody else, I’d believe you, but Sorkav? He doesn’t have any agenda beyond keeping things orderly.”

  “So you’ve said. But all you have done is convince me that he cares more about meeting the quotas than the safety of the miners. Either way, Krov’s murder will not be avenged.”

  “What does it matter? We are not warriors, Malvak. Krov was not kin to you. Let it go.”

  Malvak rose to his feet. “I thought you would understand. But you’re just another section chief, aren’t you, Torad?”

  “You’re the one being a fool, Malvak. This idiocy will just get you killed!”

  Turning his back on Torad, Malvak left the mess hall.

  He would have to find his revenge another way.

  Qao found Gahlar’s body when he arrived at the mine in the morning.

  He muttered, “ghuy’cha.” Gahlar’s body was wedged by the same pillar that Krov’s body had been placed against a week earlier, his throat cut in a similar manner. Gahlar hadn’t been in his bunk during Qao’s bed check the previous night, and Qao had duly reported it. Now, it seemed, he had a good reason. Qao had come over on the early shuttle, so Gahlar had to have been there since the previous night.

  With reluctance, Qao pulled out his communicator. His section had already been behind on meeting its quota before Krov’s death, and the situation had gotten worse over the past week, since Kobyk had yet to provide a replacement for Krov. Now Qao was down another worker, and would lose another hour’s labor while Sorkav investigated.

  Sorkav arrived within twenty minutes, during which time Qao herded what few workers from his section were present into the landing bay for the second time in a week.

  Qao happened to know that Sorkav wore special boots that made him appear taller than he actually was, and Qao took considerable satisfaction from the fact that de
spite Sorkav’s boots, Qao was half a head taller than the security chief.

  Sorkav arrived at the scene with three guards, like him dressed in all black, and all with painstiks and hand-scanners on their belts.

  “Another death in your section, Qao?” Sorkav asked with a derisive snort as his lackeys started scanning the scene. “Perhaps the supervision of this section requires revisiting.”

  Qao looked down at Sorkav. “My concern is with getting my workers to provide dilithium. Incidents like this fall into your purview, Sorkav.”

  “You’re hardly achieving great things on that front, are you, Section Chief?”

  To that, Qao had no response, so he simply said, “How long will this investigation take?”

  “While I appreciate your desire to try to bring your returns up, Qao, I’m afraid it will not be that simple. A death in your section is one thing, but a second exactly like it? Obviously there is more going on here than I previously believed.”

  Qao snarled. “Don’t be ridiculous, Sorkav.”

  Sorkav snapped, his mock-pleasant tone replaced with fury. “Do not take that tone with me, Section Chief!”

  However, Qao was unfazed. “I merely am pointing out, sir, that this death is likely to be retaliation for the previous one.”

  “Explain.”

  “One of my miners believed Gahlar to be responsible for Krov’s death—despite the fact that you ruled it an accident.”

  Ignoring that barb, Sorkav said, “Who is this miner?”

  “His name is Malvak.”

  “If this Malvak believed that my judgment was in error, why did he not lodge a complaint, as per procedure?”

  Qao had to restrain himself from laughing in Sorkav’s face. In the ten turns that Qao had worked at this mine, Sorkav had yet to acknowledge a single complaint lodged by anyone of lesser authority. And since his brother ran the mine and was the only person with greater authority, that meant that he did not acknowledge any complaints that didn’t come from Kobyk.

  “Perhaps,” Qao said slowly, “he believed that the complaint would not be heard.”

  “So instead he took matters into his own hands?” Sorkav shook his head. “Let me guess—this Malvak is QuchHa’?”

  Qao nodded.

  “That explains it, then.”

  In fact, it explained nothing, but Qao wasn’t suicidal enough to say so. He’d already pushed his luck with Sorkav.

  “Sir,” one of the guards said, “there is blood on the victim’s hands that is not his own. Scans indicate that the blood belongs to Malvak, son of Jorq.”

  “That’s hardly conclusive,” Qao said, indicating the jagged edges all around the cave, of rock and crystal both. “Miners get each other’s blood on them all the time.”

  “True,” Sorkav said, “but it does at least support your theory. We will investigate further.”

  Qao couldn’t help but notice that a DNA scan of blood on Gahlar’s person took considerably more effort than Sorkav’s people had put into their inquiry into Krov’s death.

  Malvak stood at the front of the wardroom on the main asteroid, his hands and feet shackled, a guard on either side of him.

  Also standing was Sorkav. Seated around the table were all the section chiefs from Site wej, with Kobyk at the head, facing Malvak. The white-haired Kobyk had a mug of warnog in his hand. Malvak had only seen Kobyk a few times, but every time, he had that damned warnog with him.

  Sorkav was laying out the evidence against Malvak to Kobyk.

  “Scans indicated Malvak’s blood on Gahlar’s body. The testimony of Section Chief Qao indicated several arguments between Malvak and Gahlar, due to Malvak’s belief that Gahlar was responsible for the death of a fellow miner.”

  “His name was Krov!” Malvak cried. “And he was murdered by—Aaaarrrrrrghhhhh!” That last came at the application of a painstik by one of the two guards to Malvak’s midsection. He collapsed to his knees, then was yanked to his feet by the other guard.

  “As I was saying,” Sorkav said with a sidelong glance at Malvak, before looking again at his brother, “this was corroborated by Section Chief Torad.”

  Sweat dripping into his eyes, Malvak bared his teeth at Torad, who at least had the good grace to look away. Malvak belatedly realized that Torad was ’urwI’, and not to be trusted. A pity he learned that lesson too late . . .

  “It is therefore my recommendation,” Sorkav concluded, “that Malvak, son of Jorq, be put to death for the murder of Gahlar, son of Murak.”

  Kobyk gulped some warnog, most of which went into his thick white mustache rather than his mouth. Then he nodded. “It shall be done.”

  Sorkav turned to face Malvak, unsheathing his d’k tahg as he did so. Malvak noticed as the side blades unfurled with a click that they were rusty and poorly maintained. He also noticed that the hilt carried the emblem of a House to which Sorkav did not belong.

  “And you say we have no honor,” Malvak said, blinking away more sweat.

  Sorkav nodded at the guards, and this time they both applied their painstiks. Pain coursed through every cell of Malvak’s body. He screamed in agony as he again fell to his knees.

  “Look at you,” Sorkav said with contempt. “You wail and perspire like an Earther instead of facing death like a warrior. I condemn you to die like the coward you are.”

  Compared to the nerve-wrenching agony of the painstik, the sudden insertion of a d’k tahg between his ribs was hardly noticeable. But within moments, he felt the life drain from him.

  He hoped he would be joining Krov in Sto-Vo-Kor.

  The last thing he heard was Kobyk belching up his warnog and saying, “That should put an end to all of this.”

  2

  Kobyk

  The warnog tasted wrong.

  Kobyk, son of Goryq, sighed. This latest shipment had been dreadful. His supply chief had switched to a trader whose prices were much lower, and Kobyk now understood why.

  Warnog was the only thing that made Kobyk’s job bearable, and bad warnog just made everything worse.

  He looked around his office. The space was functional, the decorations minimal. He had a rotating holographic image of his mate and children on one wall; an ancient mek’leth that had been forged for his House by Do’Ming in the time of Kahless, and which was still a fine weapon, on another wall; and a window that looked out onto the deep blackness of space. The next closest asteroid was many qelI’qams away, too far to be seen with the naked eye.

  But Kobyk preferred it that way. Asteroids were hideous things, just ugly masses of rock broken up by craters. He missed the lush grasslands of his home on Ty’Gokor.

  He gulped more of the wretched drink. For all its poor taste, it still was alcohol, and Kobyk needed its bracing effects right now.

  Sorkav was on his way in with a report. That meant bad news.

  For many turns, Kobyk had run his mine quite efficiently. If there were problems, his chief of security dealt with it. Kobyk trusted his subordinates, and everyone who’d been in that position had done the job well. Generally, Kobyk didn’t hear from the head of security unless there was a serious problem, and they were all good enough at their job that there were no serious problems.

  At least, that used to be the case. Then he’d been forced to hire his younger brother.

  Sorkav’s imminent arrival was the latest in a lengthy series of occasions on which he had had to report to the head of the mine, and Kobyk wasn’t at all happy about it. Leaving aside the fact that it meant yet another security problem that Sorkav had failed to fix, it also meant that Kobyk had to be in his brother’s presence.

  Kobyk had never liked his younger sibling. Not when they were youths, and Sorkav would make pathetic attempts to steal Kobyk’s food. Not when they were adolescents, and Sorkav would make even more pathetic attempts to steal Kobyk’s women. And certainly not when they were adults and Sorkav was kicked out of the Imperial Guard in a corruption scandal.

  Facing pressure from both their parents, K
obyk hired Sorkav to run security for the Beta Thoridar mine. Running the mine was a plum assignment for Kobyk, one he’d worked many years to earn. Being put in charge of its security was a good way for Sorkav to try to regain the honor he’d lost.

  Which was fine by Kobyk as long as he didn’t have to talk to Sorkav.

  The door to his office rumbled open, and in walked Sorkav. He had taken to carrying two painstiks on his belt of late, which made him look ridiculous.

  “What do you want?” Kobyk said by way of greeting.

  “There has been another shuttle malfunction.”

  Kobyk snarled. “That is the third one this week!”

  “The maintenance crew believes it is sabotage.”

  “The maintenance crew’s grasp of the blindingly obvious is impressive,” Kobyk said dryly. “What are they doing to prevent further acts?”

  “I’ve posted guards on all the shuttles, both when they’re in transit and in the bay. I’m also running constant scans on all engineering sections and interrogating everyone who has ridden the shuttles.”

  “I’m fully aware of the proper procedure for ferreting out saboteurs, brother—what I wish to know is what results have come from your work.”

  Sorkav hesitated, which made Kobyk grab his warnog.

  “It would seem, brother,” Sorkav finally said, “that Malvak’s death has stirred the workers.”

  Kobyk frowned. “Who is Malvak?”

  “The worker who killed—”

  “What, the QuchHa’ you condemned last week?”

  Sorkav nodded.

  “What does he have to do with this?”

  “Several of those I interrogated would speak only one phrase: malvaq bortaS. I have also seen that phrase scrawled on the walls of the habitats and the mines.”

  Kobyk gave his brother an incredulous look. “Malvak’s death was perfectly legitimate. Why are these petaQpu’ claiming revenge for him?”

  Sorkav shrugged. “They are QuchHa’. Who could possibly understand how they think?”

  “We’ve had enough problems meeting our quotas.” Kobyk slugged down the last of his warnog, then tossed the mug aside in disgust. “If this idiocy continues—”