Star Trek - TOS - Death Count

by L. A. Graf

  over his shoulder, then seemed to earth himself and stopped. "The worst

  part about this is, the backlash probably wiped most of the system's

  automatic records of the accident. It's going to be shameful hard to

  figure out what happened."

  "Oh, my God--" Taylor came down the hall toward them at a near run, his

  eyes fixed on the transporter room door. "It's true, isn't it? Oh, my

  God, it's true!"

  Chekov and Kirk moved to stop him at the same time, each catching an arm

  and together dragging the tall man away from the portal before his

  presence

  could signal it to open. P/ease, keep it closed. t Chekov prayed as he

  helped push Taylor back against the wall. He didn't think he could

  handle the smell even one more time.

  "What happened?" Taylor demanded. His sallow face looked honestly

  frantic, and Chekov felt the first sympathy he'd ever had for the man.

  "Where's His. Gendron?"

  "I'm sorry," Kirk said, "there's been an accident." McCoy tried to take

  over, gentle doctor role intact. "You don't want to go in there. His.

  Gendron and Mr. Purviance tried to beam somewhere through the ship's

  screens."

  "No, Bones." Kirk glanced away from Taylor long enough to shake his head

  at the doctor. "We weren't running with screens on."

  McCoy only stared at Kirk in confusion, but Scott raised his eyebrows

  and pulled a thoughtful scowl. "We've got ourselves a problem, then," he

  mused. "The transporter tech said Purviance was explaining beaming

  procedures to Gendron when he leftwhe's not even sure how Sweeney got in

  the room. I've been assuming one of them accidentally activated the

  transporter and then tried to direct the beam through the screens.

  However, the screens were off, and with-ou! screens to bounce the signal

  off, somebody had to scramble the transporter beam on purpose. There's

  no other way we'd have gotten the matter back into the transporter

  room--any other malfunction would've just scattered them out into

  space."

  Chekov felt his nerves go cold at the thought of

  what Scott was suggesting. "You mean murder."

  "Aye, lad, I think I do."

  "Where the hell was security?" Taylor shook off

  both Kirk and Chekov, glaring back and forth between the two. "Aren't

  they supposed to prevent things like this from happening?"

  "A security guard died with them," McCoy said stiffly. "What more do

  you want?"

  "I want to know what happened," Taylor shot back. "I want to know when

  it happened!" He glared down at Chekov, and the lieutenant felt a sudden

  resurgence of his old dislike. "Was this guard actually assigned to

  help His. Gendron?"

  Considering he'd systematically thrown every auditor out of security

  over the past weekend, Chekov thought this a ridiculously optimistic

  question. "No," he said, as civilly as possible. "Ensign Sweeney was

  assigned to guard a weapons locker ten meters farther down the

  corridor."-He pointed, even though the curve of the hall would keep

  Taylor from seeing anything.

  The auditor looked anyway, frowning. "Then what was Sweeney doing in

  the transporter room?"

  "Gendron and Purviance must have asked him to help them with some

  procedure."

  Chekov knew that was somehow the wrong reply when Taylor snapped his

  head around to peer at him. "But you don't actually know?"

  "There's no one left we can ask," Chekov pointed out. "Your auditor and

  liaison officer were killed along with him."

  "What's the point of this?" Kirk demanded before Chekov could go on.

  Taylor snorted as though Kirk didn't have any right to interfere. "The

  guards are supposed to call in before abandoning their positions, aren't

  they?"

  This time, Kirk deferred the answer to Chekov with a glance, and Chekov

  nodded.

  "But Sweeney didn't, did he?"

  "No."

  "He didn't even request a replacement before leaving a locker full of

  phasers unattended?"

  "No, Mr. Taylor," Chekov flared, "he didn't. And now he's dead, so I

  can't very well discipline him for it, can I?"

  Taylor tipped his head back against the wall, and the laugh he barked

  sounded both bitter and sad. "My God, Lieutenant, this is exactly what

  I was talking about! Hasn't it even occurred to you that this boy might

  not be dead if you were stricter about enforcing these sorts of

  regulations?"

  "Mr. Taylor!" Kirk snapped, but Chekov already spoke over him, the urge

  to strike Taylor nearly unbearable.

  "Since I assumed command of security, department fatalities have dropped

  more than 28 percent! What matters more to you? That we do our jobs, or

  that we do them in a certain way?"

  "It matters that you take care of the people entrusted to you!"

  The comment stuag like a phaser burn. "I would give my life for my

  people," Chekov grated. "They know that."

  Taylor snorted. "That supposed dedication didn't do much for your

  ensign this morning, did it?"

  "What was your auditor doing inspecting sensitive equipment that she

  didn't know how to operate, Mr. Taylor? Didn't she have anything better

  to do than call a security guard away from his post just to prove that

  nothing on board this ship is sacred to you?"

  "Gentlemen!" Kirk pushed between them, silencing Chekov with a

  penetrating glare. "That's enough."

  "Please don't interrupt, Captain." Taylor extricated

  himself completely but didn't walk away. "I'm interested in hearing

  Lieutenant Chekov's rationale."

  "Your interest--" Kirk began, but the intercom a few steps away slashed

  across his words with a shrill whistle.

  "Bridge to captain."

  Glowering darklymwhether at Chekov or Taylor, Chekov couldn't tell--Kirk

  backed toward the panel to punch the button with his thumb. "Kirk

  here."

  "Spoek here, Captain. We have detected a civilian distress beacon two

  parsecs off our current course. Mr. Sulu has not yet been able to

  identify the ship's registry, but Federation articles do require we

  render the needed assistance."

  Chekov saw Kirk's attention shift bridgeward, and the captain dipped a

  nod toward the intercom panel. "Bring us out of warp speed, Mr. Spock,

  and radio Commodore Petersen at Sigma One that we're altering course.

  I'm on my way up. Kirk out." He punched off the intercom and waved for

  Chekov to follow him. "Scotty, Bonesredo whatever you can here. We'll

  continue our discussion later. Mr. Taylor--" Kirk speared the auditor

  with a cold hazel stare that would have had Chekov ready to apologize

  for every wrongdoing since the Romulan War. "I don't want to find out

  that you've interfered in any aspect of this investigation. Understood?"

  Taylor's jaw clenched with anger. "Completely, Captain." He scowled

  acr oss at Chekov with a smugness that made the lieutenant's stomach

  burn. "We're not finished, either, Lieutenant. Your captain will see

  my report before I file it, and, I promise you, he won't like a damn

  thing I have to say."

  Kirk tugged on Chekov's arm, glaring coldly at t
he

  auditor. "Believe me, Mr. Taylor, I wouldn't have it any other way."

  The long wail of the universal distress signal echoed through the bridge

  of the Enterprise like a child whose crying couldn't be silenced. Sulu's

  fingers tightened uneasily on his helm controls. He knew the distress

  call had been designed to pierce subspace static and shipboard noise,

  but that didn't make the sound any easier to listen to. Its endless cry

  for help kept hurling images of possible accidents and disasters through

  Sulu's mind, images that were all too easy for him to picture after what

  he'd seen that morning in the transporter room.

  "Looks like some kind of freighter,,' Lieutenant Bhutto observed

  quietly. Sulu nodded, watching the disabled ship expand across the

  viewscreen as the Enterprise came closer. The blue-white glare of

  Cygnus Eridani made details hard to see, but the blunt sausage shape of

  multiply-linked segments clearly belonged to a hauling ship. "I wonder

  why they haven't responded to our hail."

  "I don't know." Across the bridge, Sulu could hear Uhura trylag to open

  a hailing frequency, still to no avail. "They must have subspace radio

  capability, or we wouldn't have heard their distress call."

  Bhutto's eyes narrowed. "Maybe there's no one left to talk to."

  "I was trying not to think about that." Sulu gritted his teeth,

  repressing memories of a charnel-splattered room. "What is it about

  navigators that always makes them so gloomy?"

  The turbolift doors slid open before Bhutto could reply. Sulu didn't

  have to turn around to know Kirk

  had come on deck--he could feel the decisive crackle of energy that ran

  through the bridge crew. From the corner of his eye, Sulu saw Chekov

  stride past the captain's console to take his place at the security

  station.

  "Update, Mr. Spook." The captain's chair whispered on its hydraulic

  bearings as he swung it around to face the viewscreen.

  "We are approaching the distressed ship now, Captain," Spock said

  calmly. "She either cannot or will not respond to our inquiries.

  Sensors indicate only that she is an interstellar freighter of somewhat

  antiquated design."

  "Current distance, Mr. Sulu?"

  Sulu glanced down at the white line blinking across his monitor's

  display. "Twenty thousand kilometers and closing, sir. Our estimated

  time of contact is four and a half minutes."

  "Hmm." Kirk's fingers drummed a speculative tattoo on the arm of his

  console. "Mr. Spock, can you find any physical evidence of damage to

  the ship?"

  "None, sir. Judging by the output of ionizing radiation from her engine

  banks, her field generators appear to be in working order."

  "Captain." Chekov's voice was grim. "Weapons scan shows probable phaser

  banks in both port and starboard hulls."

  "Phasers on a freighter?" Kirk vaulted out of his chair and came down a

  level to lean over Sulu's board. "Bring us to a full stop, Mr. Sulu,

  just out of phaser Fange."

  "Aye, sir." Sulu shot a glance at Chekov, and, a moment later, the

  approximate radius of fire rippled across his monitor display,

  transferred from the security officer's computer. Sulu floated the

  Enterprise to a

  stop just outside that dark red sphere. "Full stop, Captain."

  "Keep us there." Kirk swung around. "Uhura, I want you to stop trying

  to hail our friends over there."

  "Stop trying, Captain?" The communications officer sounded startled.

  "That's right. I want them to wonder about us for a change." Sulu

  risked a glance over his shoulder, and saw Kirk settle back into his

  chair, eyes glinting with intensity. "Now, we wait."

  Silence fell across the bridge, the tense but trusting silence of people

  who had seen their captain's maneuvers work time and again. Against

  that disciplined quiet, the shrill cry of the distress signal seemed

  even more grating. One moment crept past, then another.

  "Orion freighter Umyfymu calling Federation starship." The dark,

  growling voice sent a shudder down Sulu's back, reminding him of

  previous encounters with Orions. The viewscreen stayed suspiciously

  dark. "Federation starship, can you hear us?"

  Kirk nodded at Uhura, and the communications officer tapped open a

  channel for him. "This is.the USS Enterprise," the captain said

  crisply. "What seems to be the problem, Umyfymu?"

  A long pause sizzled across the open channel. "Engine difficulties," the

  Orion on the other end said at last. "Partial alestabilization of field

  control has crippled our warp drive."

  Sulu heard Spoek quietly clear his throat behind them. Uhura toggled

  her controls without being ordered to, then said, "I've closed the audio

  channel, Mr. Spock, so the Orions won't hear you."

  "Thank you, Commander." The science officer turned to face Kirk.

  "Captain, even a partial field destabilization should have left a trail

  of subspace

  radiation behind the UmyJmu when she decelerated from warp speed. Our

  sensors detect no such trace anywhere in the vicinity of Cygnus

  Eridani."

  "So the Orions are !ying But why?" Kirk tapped one fist refiectively

  against his chin. "They can' possibly hope to take out a

  Constitution-class starship, even if they are piratesre"

  "They're not pirates, Captain." The knowledge welled up inside Sulu

  before he even realized how he knew it. "No Orion pirate I've ever met

  spoke English that well."

  "No," Chekov said soberly. "But Orion military officers do." His gaze

  darted back to the viewscreen, and Sulu's followed, fueled by the sme

  sudden suspicion. "Look at the shape of that hull--"

  "--without the extra radiation shielding," Sulu added. "Then take away

  those cargo sections--"

  "mand it's an Orion T-class destroyer!" Chekov finished triumphantly.

  "A military vessel!" Kirk leaped to his feet, scowl-inp "Mr. Chekov, I

  want full shields--now!" A phosphorescent shimmer ran across the

  viewscreen as the security officer obeyed. "Mr. Sulu, take us back

  another ten thousand kilometers, out of photon torpedo range. Uhura,

  put the ship on yellow alert."

  "Aye, sir." Strobing golden light splashed across the normal soft blue

  of the bridge, accompanied by the tense whir and click of console chairs

  locking into battle positions. Sulu took a deep breath, feeling the

  sharp kick of adrenaline through his blood as he sent the Enterprise

  racing back to a safer position.

  "Federation starship, you are abandoning a ship in distress." The

  growling Orion voice on the bridge startled Sulu, until he remembered

  that Uhura had left their communication channel open to reception.

  The viewscreen showed no changes in the a freighter's position. "This

  is a first-degree violation of interstellar conduct. We demand an

  explanation."

  Kirk snorted, motioning Uhura to re-open their channel. "If you know

  interstellar codes so well, Orion destroyer Umyfymu," he snapped, "you

  may recall that misuse of a universal distress signal is also a

  first-degree violation, punishable by exclusion from all Federation />
  space ports for up to a standard year."

  Blank silence hissed after his words, then shattered with Uhura's tense

  voice. "Captain, the Umyfymu is signaling on another subspace channel.

  The message is coded, but I think they're calling for help."

  Spock bent over his sensor display, already tracking the path of the

  Orion transmission. "Long-range scan indicates another ship

  approaching, Captain, at warp three. She has just entered detector

  range." He tapped thoughtfully at one of his controls. "Scans also

  register a sensor ghost behind her--possibly a smaller companion ship,

  traveling in her shadow."

  "Is the main ship Orion?" Kirk demanded. "According to initial readings,

  yes. Howevers" Spook glanced up from his monitors with lifted eyebrows.

  "--she appears to be approaching from Federation space."

  "Captain, I am receiving a transmission from the second Orion ship."

  Uhura paused, eyes widening as she listened to her board. "They've

  identified themselves as the Orion police cruiser Mecufi, sir--and they

  say they've been sent from Sigma One to arrest

  Chapter Eight

  KIRK SCRUBBED A HAND across his face. "I feel like l just fell down a

  rabbit hole," he complained. Sulu nodded silent agreement as he turned