Star Trek - TOS - Death Count

by L. A. Graf

  "Oh, my God," the tow-headed desk sergeant had gasped, his cheeks

  flushing very red. "You're in Starfleet?

  Chekov wondered what the ID net said about him. "That's what I told

  you."

  A half-dozen guards crowded around the sergeant's shoulders, and he

  pointed out one or two items on the screen. "Starship security," one of

  them muttered, as if he'd just found out their prisoner was going to

  explode. "Holy cowre"

  After that, they'd taken Chekov's jacket, his belt, and every piece of

  identification he had. They probably would have taken his boots, as

  well, but there was apparently some disagreement about how safely they

  could come within kicking distance. They took everything they could

  reach over the counter, though, then escorted him back here, where he

  obviously wouldn't be a danger to anyone but himself.

  It occurred to Chekov that maybe Starfleet should do something about

  security's reputation among civil-Jan personnel.

  A loud rumbling from the front of his cell caught Chekov's attention

  from the ever-enthralling wall, and he looked up just in time to see the

  door slide away to reveal a glimpse of nearby freedom. The guard in the

  hall stepped deferentially aside, replaced by a more massive figure in

  familiar, welcome

  Starfleet burgundy and gold.

  "Lieutenant Chekov?"

  Chekov jumped to his feet, delighted to see anyone not dressed in Sigma

  One black. "Lieutenant," he said, recognizing the other man's rank as

  he came forward to shake his hand.

  "Lieutenant Lindsey Purrlance, from Commodore Petersen's office."

  Although nearly twenty centimeters taller than Chekov and broad enough

  to fill the doorway from shoulder to shoulder, Purviance's

  handshake was nervous-hot, and remarkably gentle and shy. "I've talked

  with station security about what happened," he said in a voice that

  matched his tentative demeanor. "They understand your captain's waiting

  on you to leave port, so they're releasing you to my custody. If you

  promise you'll come back to go before their local judicator as soon as

  this mission's over, they'll let me take you back to the Enterprise."

  Chekov leaned around Purviance's imposing bulk to nod at the young guard

  behind him. "I promise."

  "All right, then." Purviance handed him his jacket, the pockets already

  heavy with sundry items. "I've got a shuttle waiting, and your friends

  are in the lobby. Are you ready?"

  Chekov nodded, digging quickly through his pockets while he followed the

  other lieutenant into the hall, just to make sure everything was there.

  As they passed into the outer office, he glanced by reflex at the wall

  chronometer, and his heart sank into his stomach. "Oh, my God! Is that

  the fight time?"

  Purviance frowned, looking around until he found where Chekov was

  looking. "Well--yes. Is there some problem?"

  "The Enterprise was supposed to leave port twenty-eight minutes ago."

  Chekov groaned and buried his face in his jacket. "I just made an

  entire starship late for departure."

  "The captain's going to kill us," Sulu pronounced for what Chekov

  thought must be the hundredth time since their shuttle left the lock at

  Sigma One.

  "We're only forty minutes late," Chekov said, pacing the narrow aisle

  while their taxi set down in the midst of the Enterprise's hangar bay.

  "No one forced

  you to wait for me. You weren't under arrest, you know."

  Sulu sighed and nodded. "I know." They'd been through this a hundred

  times, too.

  "Besides, if it hadn't been for those Orions, we'd have been back on

  board in time to leave dock on schedule." Chekov wished he could make

  himself sit down, but almost two hours in that tiny Sigma security cell

  made even a passenger shuttle feel big enough to be worth prowling.

  "Surely, the captain knows this wasn't our fault."

  Uhura made a little sound of disbelief, then turned to look behind her

  when the outside door sighed open as the signal they could leave. "But,

  Chekov, it is our fault." She stood, both arms wrapped around the pot of

  Sulu's wilted water lily. "If you hadn't taken that policeman's

  weapon--"

  "I should have let him continue hitting that old man?"

  "I didn't say you were wrong--"

  "All fight, all fight--" Sulu, a plastic bag of water depending from

  either hand, made a wide-armed gesture to hurry his friends toward the

  open hatch. "I'm sure this is going to be a lovely argument, but can we

  have it later? I really, really want to get my lizards into something

  better than these bags so they have at least a small chance of surviving

  this adventure. It would be nice to report for duty sometime, too. So

  let's go, huh?"

  Chekov levered the lily pond out of the seat, just as glad to have an

  excuse not to continue this discussion. He'd already been over this

  ground a million times while examining the confines of his cell, and he

  didn't need further reminding that--as trapped into his

  actions as he felt--he had no one to blame but himself. He stepped

  aside, pond balanced against his

  hip, to let the shuttle's fourth passenger into the aisle. "Need any

  helP?" Purrlance asked.

  Chekov shook his head. Despite his size, Purviance exuded all the

  symptoms of an office worker terrified of exerting himself. "It's not

  that heavy--I've got it."

  Purviance nodded with a self-conscious, quicksilver smile, then ducked

  out the door behind Sulu and Uhura, leaving Chckov to bring up the rear.

  Not that entering the hangar bay last did much to improve his reception.

  "Mr. Chekov, glad to see you could make it." Kirk's tone, while

  pleasant enough, didn't lessen the severity of his frown.

  Chekov felt embarrassment sting his cheeks like a slap. Bad enough to

  have to suffer Kirk's disapproval; having to suffer it in civilian

  clothes that still stank of a civilian brig only made matters unbearably

  worse. "Captain, I can explain--"

  "I'm sure you can." Kirk flicked an equally sharp look at Sulu and

  Uhura. "If you two aren't too busy,

  I'm sure your presence would be welcomed on the bridge."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Aye, sir."

  Sulu paused only long enough to drop both plastic bags into the lily

  pond Chekov held, then hurried off after Uhura and his plant without

  saying another word. InSide the bags, the lizards bumbled against each

  other in the newly turbulent water, chirped once

  in helpless alarm, and promptly vanished.

  Chekov knew just how they felt.

  "Captain Kirk?" Purrlance stepped forward, one hand outstretched

  uncertainly in a bid for Kirk's

  attention. When the captain took his hand to shake it, Purviance beamed

  with what looked like relief. "Captain, I'm Lieutenant Lindsey

  Purvianee, with Commodore PeterseWs office."

  Kirk nodded, although the faint line between his brows told Chekov the

  introduction didn't really hold much meaning for him. "Lieutenant

  Purviancem"

  "Commodore Petersen sent Mr. Purviance to arrange for my release,"


  Chekov explained. He made a vow not to flinch from Kirk's scrutiny when

  the captain turned back to him. "It was supposed to expedite matters,

  sir. We came here immediately after security let me go."

  "I was late getting there," Purrlance volunteered. "We had a

  communications mix-up at the office. I ended up with some Andorians

  down in Customsre" He trailed off into an apologetic shrug even before

  Kirk waved aside his justification.

  "You're not the one who needs to explain, Mr. Purviance," Kirk said. He

  shot a hard-edged glare at Chekov. "When I see your report on this

  incident, there'd better be one hell of an explanation included."

  Chekov nodded, tightening his grip on the lily pond. "I'll do my best,

  sir."

  The captain nodded shortly, but Chekov knew better than to take that as

  any kind of reprieve. "Mr. Purviance--" Kirk turned briskly to the tall

  visitor. "I appreciate your help in returning my officer. Please give

  my thanks to Commodore Petersen, and tell him nothing like this--"

  "Oh!" Purviance broke in with eyes. wide in surprise. "I'm not going

  back to the station, sir." He seemed suddenly awkward again, and caught

  off-guard. "Commodore Petersen has assigned me as liaison officer to the

  efficiency team. To sort of aeeli

  mate them to appropriate ship behavior, and to keep them out of trouble

  for you. So I'll be along for the duration--" He peeked a bit timidly

  at Kirk. that's all right with you, sir."

  Kirk's mouth pressed into a line that might be either annoyance or

  chagrin. "I wish the commodore had called me," he' admitted. Then with

  a shrug, "What's one more passenger? Welcome aboard."

  Purviance flushed darkly. Chekov couldn't tell if that meant he was

  embarrassed or pleased. "Thank you, sir."

  "In the meantime, we all have work to do." Kirk rapped his knuckles

  against the outside edge of the lily pond, and Chekov nearly jumped at

  the loudness of that hollow sound. "See if you can't find someplace to

  stow that souvenir ashtray, then put Mr. Purviance together with the

  auditors. I'll talk to you about this other matter after the ship is

  under way."

  Chekov was perfectly willing to let the other matter

  simply drop, but knew enough to nod. "Yes, sir."

  "Carry on."

  Once Kirk had turned away, Chekov forced himself to relax his shoulders,

  and thanked God there'd been a visitor here to discourage one of Kirk's

  more searing lectures. As if able to read the Russian's thoughts,

  Purviance released a pent-up sigh big enough for both of them. "Is he

  always that mtmmau g

  Chekov glanced up at him, smiling wryly. "That wasn't intimidating.

  That was incredibly well mannered and reserved."

  "Wow."

  Chekov nodded the liaison officer toward the exit, more than ready to

  find somewhere to dispose of the pond. "Wait until you see him with the

  auditors."

  Sulu heard the muffled whisper of turbolift doors opening outside his

  cabin, and groaned, grabbing for his uniform jacket. When you knew Kirk

  was waiting for you on the bridge, even the brief interval between

  turbolifts could seem like an intolerable delay. He stamped into his

  boots and dove through his cabin door, yelling, "Hold the lift!"

  "Don't worry, I've got it." Unlike Sulu, Uhura had managed to get

  completely dressed, but her hair spilled down her neck in spiky

  disarray. She held the lift controls with an elbow until he got in,

  then let the doors slide closed.

  "Bridge," she said through a mouthful of hairpins, and the turbolift

  from Deck Six sang upward. Sulu struggled into his uniform jacket and

  did up the fastenings, then watched the communications officer bundle

  her hair into a neat bun and clip it into place. It amazed him that

  anyone could perform such a complicated operation without the aid of a

  mirror.

  He ran a hand through his own ruffled hair and smiled wryly. "Is it

  just me, or does being late for duty make you feel like a cadet again,

  too?"

  "Now that you mention it, yes." Uhura checked her earrings to be sure

  they were straight, then threw him a suspicious look. "Why do these

  things always seem to happen when I go on shore leave with you and

  Chekov?"

  Sulu tried to smooth his face into its blandest expression of innocence.

  "I was just about to ask you the same thing."

  "Right." The turbolift doors whisked open on the bridge before Uhura

  could say more. Sulu stepped onto the busily humming deck, feeling

  Captain Kirk's glance rake across him as he took his seat at the helm.

  He winced, and suddenly found himself wishing he

  were assigned to a nice inconspicuous bridge station, like

  communications.

  "Prepare for departure from Sigma One, Mr. Sulu," Kirk said mildly,

  then swung his chair around to watch the status reports scrolling across

  the engineering station's screens.

  "Aye, sir." Sulu let out a trickling breath of relief while he tapped

  his security clearance into the helm computer and began running a

  standard systems check. The captain must have decided to place the

  blame for their delay squarely on the Sigma One liaison officer. Either

  that, or on Chekov.

  Around him, the Enterprise's other bridge officers were running similar

  checks on their stations, sharing updates in quiet voices as they geared

  up the massive starship for flight. Sulu finished running through the

  helm checklist, then brought up Sigma One's outboard schematic. The

  main docking lane glowed fiery white across the screen between the

  rippling gold of station gantries and the blue dots of docked ships. One

  of the blue dots was moving down the docking lane, already halfway out

  to open space.

  Sulu glanced over at the dark-haired woman who shared the flight console

  with him. "Who's running the lane ahead of us?"

  Lieutenant Bhutto glanced at the schematic. "An Orion police cruiser--I

  think traffic control called it the Mecufi "She pointed up at the

  viewscreen with its wide-angle overview of Sigma One's ecliptic docks.

  The gantry lights at the far side of the port flickered as a slim shadow

  floated across them. "There it goes now."

  "Captain Kirk." Uhura pitched her voice to cut through the murmur of

  preparation. "Sigma One station control has cleared us for departure."

  "Very good." Kirk swung his console back toward the main viewscreen.

  "Take her out, Mr. Sulu."

  "Aye, sir." Sulu took a deep breath, submerging himself in the

  meticulous routine of piloting a starship out into space. He brought

  the impulse engines to one-quarter power to avoid blasting Sigma One's

  delicate gantries. The dim starlit bulk of the space station dominated

  the interstellar night, aglow with glistening spiderwebs of red and

  green approach lights. The Enterprise slowly hosed away from its dock,

  steady as a gliding swan under Sulu's hands. "We should be clear of the

  station in approximately five and one-half minutes, sir."

  "Very g ood. Mr. Bhutto, lay in a course to sector nine-eighteen mark

  three along the Andorian bord
er. And look sharp to keep us inside

  Federation space." The bright intensity with which Kirk scanned the

  space ahead of them belied his wry tone. "After all, they tell me we're

  here to stop a war, not to start one."

  Chapter Four

  CHEKOV STOPPED by the mirror in his quarters only long enough to verify

  that the seams on his burgundy duty jacket lined up, then ducked out the

  door while still finger-combing his hair into order.

  It hadn't been easy finding room for Sulu's lily pond in the helmsman's

  cabin. Chekov had finally given up and moved a half-dozen potted plants

  to the floor beneath Sulu's worktable so he could balance the pond on

  the end, retrieving the Halkan lily from the bathroom counter so it

  could sit in its new home until its owner returned. It looked

  remarkably dejected, drooped all over the marble-epoxy bottom for lack

  of water's buoyancy, but Chekov didn't dare fill the thing until Sulu

  had put it where he'd want it for good. Chekov knew perfectly well who

  would be recruited to help empty and move the monstrosity when that time

  came.

  The plastic bags of lizards, then, he'd taken back to

  his own cabin. He didn't know for sure that being left in the plastic

  would hurt them, but watching them bump their little noses against the

  transparent sides of their confinement reminded him too much of spending