Star Trek - TOS - Death Count

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Star Trek - TOS - Death Count Page 10

by L. A. Graf


  back to watch the viewscreen. Beyond the luminescent shimmer of their

  shields, the blue light of Cygnus Eridani now glared off two ships

  Umyfymu's deceptively ungainly sprawl and the sleeker wedge of the

  Mecufi. Neither had ventured within the Enterprise's firing range.

  "Uhura, can you make direct contact with the Orion police commander?"

  "I'll try, sir." The communications officer bent over her board for a

  moment, dark face intent as she spoke to her counterpart on the Orion

  ship. "Contact coming through now, sir."

  "Put it on the main screen." Sulu heard Kirk, s chair hiss behind him as

  the captain stood to face the image now rippling into focus. The Orion

  police commander's broad form, heavy with high-gravity bones and muscle,

  seemed stuffed into his crimson uniform. His thick black beard had been

  razored off with military precision across his chin, leaving two long

  plaits braided with silver grommets below his ears. Bronze eyes

  glittered against dark green skin.

  "Starship Enterprise, this is Police Commander Shandaken." Like the

  Orion aboard the Urnyfymu, the commander spoke stiff but flawless

  English. "You will permit us to immediately board and search your

  ship."

  "Request denied." Kirk's mouth hardened as he frowned. "Neutral police

  forces have no authority over Starfleet vessels."

  "But you are carrying Orion criminals." The commander lifted a stubby,

  accusing finger. "There, right on your bridge!"

  "What?" Kirk swung around to meet Chekov's astonished look. "I have no

  idea what you're talking about, Shandaken. This man is one of my line

  officers."

  "He's also an Orion criminal." Shandaken folded his arms across his'

  burly chest, chin jutting with disdain. "He attacked and injured one of

  my police officers on Sigma One--"

  "That's not true!" The sudden depth of Chekov's accent conveyed his

  outrage more clearly than the words themselves. "All I did was disarm

  him!"

  "That's enough, Mr. Chekov," Kirk said quietly. "--and then he stole an

  Orion weapon," continued the commander implacably. "And smuggled it

  aboard your ship--"

  "He did not!" Sulu swung around, stung by that injustice. "Chekov

  handed the Orion's phaser over to Sigma One security, Captain. I saw

  him do it."

  Kirk shook his head at him, warningly. "Mr. Sulu, I said that's

  enough."

  "--not to mention interfering in legal Orion search procedures."

  Shandaken's face darkened with a scowl. "For all these offenses, we

  demand the right--"

  "Captain, that was not a legal search procedure!" This time it was Uhura

  who broke into the accusation, her vivid face ablaze with indignation.

  "That Orion was destroying Federation property with no provocation-"

  Kirk frowned. "Commander Shandaken, excuse me for a moment while I

  confer with my crew." The Orion grunted as his image faded back into the

  starfield outside. The captain promptly swung around to pin Chekov with

  a keen hazel gaze. "All right, Lieutenant. Remember the explanation I

  asked you to put in your report about Sigma One? I think you'd better

  give it to me now."

  "Yes, Captain." The security officer sat rigidly at attention in front

  of his bridge station. Even from the helm console, Sulu could see the

  way the RussJan's knuckles had whitened around his controls. "We came

  across an Orion policeman physically assaulting one of the merchants on

  Sigma One. All I did was take his phaser. He must have reported me to

  station security; I turned his phaser over to them when they arrested

  me." A trace of red tracked up his cheekbones. "You know the rest."

  "Hmm." Kirk didn't bother to glance at Uhura or Sulu for confirmation;

  he obviously knew his security chief. "That doesn't seem like a very

  good reason to come chasing after you, Mr. Chekov."

  "I know, sir." Chekov threw a baffled look at the ships glittering on

  the viewscreen. "I don't understand it."

  "Orions are known for holding grudges," Sulu offered. "Maybe they

  thought they could make an interstellar incident out of this, and

  embarrass the Federation."

  "Maybe." Kirk motioned to Uhura. "Get the Orion police commander back

  on line."

  "Yes, Captain." The screen rippled back to the bridge of the Mecufi.

  Shandaken looked up from a handheld communicator, blinking in surprise.

  "Your conference is over already, Captain?" he demanded.

  "Yes, and I have one question for you." Kirk's voice was bland. "Since

  the altercation with your policeman occurred on a Starfleet space

  station, I presume you're aware that any prosecution of Lieutenant

  Chekov would fall under the jurisdiction of the Federation?"

  The Orion's bushy eyebrows yanked together. "That is not acceptablere"

  "It is, however, the only legal recourse available to you," Spock

  pointed out calmly.

  Shandaken brought a fist down on his command chair. "We refuse to--"

  The screen rippled without warning, and the red-uniformed Orion was

  replaced by one in bronze and black--obviously from another ship. His

  broad face wore an even more severely plaitcd beard than the police

  commander's, with a captain's medallion dangling from one beefy, dark

  green ear. A busy military bridge gleamed behind him, stark contrast to

  the ancient cargo holds visible through narrow windows.

  "Starship Enterprise, you are on direct course for Orion space." The

  dark growling voice was the one that had spoken previously from the

  Umyf),mu. "This is a violation of Orion neutrality."

  Kirk's lips tightened. "Our course is set for the

  Federation border, Commander, and our orders are to stay on our side of

  it." The Orion military commander Snorted. "Federation double talk! Why

  patrol the border unless you want something on the other side of it? I

  warn you--if you do not alter course immediately, we will be forced to

  open fire."

  "Chekov." Kirk never took his eyes from the other commander. "What's the

  maximum speed an Orion T-class destroyer can make?"

  "Warp four, Captain."

  "And the police cruiser?" Chekov shook his head after a moment's

  scrutiny of his monitor. "According to our records, no better than warp

  three." He glanced up with suspicion dark in his eyes. "If the Umyfymu

  hadn't stopped us with that fake distress call, the Mecufi would never

  have caught up to us."

  "I was beginning to suspect that, Lieutenant." Kirk dropped a hand on

  Sulu's shoulder. "Mr. Sulu, engage warp engines. Take us out to the

  Orion border." He cast a mischievous smile at the screen. "At warp

  six."

  The corridor outside was blessedly devoid of people when Kirk finally

  left sickbay some five and a half hours later. He took a moment to

  stretch his shoulders, and calculated their distance from the Orion

  border without really meaning to. Another day, perhaps, of travel

  before they had to face the tensions boiling along that troubled lane.

  God, it was awful to think this was all just leading up to the real

  action. He doglegged down an adjacent corridor, aiming for a turbolift


  at random and flexing his fingers into his palms in rhythm with his

  thinking. Experience had taught Kirk that missions badly begun

  frequently

  ended badly, as well; the fact' that none of their current problems

  related to Orion-Andorian hostilities didn't set his mind at ease.

  All.that mattered to him right now was that his ship had suffered

  radiation damage, a member of his crew had already died, and his chief

  surgeon was up to his eyeballs in work thanks to both disturbing events.

  McCoy hadn't even supervised Kirk's radiation screening; he'd been too

  busy ministering to a guilt-racked transporter technician who'd sunk

  beyond anyone's ability to reassure. If Kirk could fix only one thing

  about this horrible day, it would be that. "Mr. Taylor," a woman's

  voice echoed from down the hall, "I'm afraid I can't let you leave this

  area." And then there were the auditors. Kirk paused a dozen meters

  outside the security corridor, just beyond the junction that would take

  him to the turbolift and away. He listened to voices from deeper within

  security as they swelled in his direction, repressing a scowl of

  annoyance just as John Taylor popped into view at the mouth of the

  department doorway. Somehow, Kirk thought, it seemed only appropriate

  that one of the auditors would show up to ruin even something so simple

  as a trip back to his quarters for the night. "Don't try to intimidate

  me," Taylor instructed the young Korean woman who followed him out of

  security. "I've been threatened by bigger fish than you, Ensign Pack,

  and none of them ever forced me to obey orders, either." He stood in

  profile to Kirk, mouth twisted into a sour line. "I don't mean to

  intimidate," Pack began, but Taylor talked right over her. "If your

  lieutenant should happen to miraculously appear sometime this evening,

  tell him I'm not impressed by his strong-arm tactics. Either he

  releases Aaron Kelly with all charges dropped, or the Auditor General

  gets an earful about misuse of Starfleet authority. Understood?"

  Kirk wondered if auditors could be reported for misuse of authority,

  too.

  "Mr. Taylor," Pack insisted, stepping sternly behind the auditor when

  Taylor turned to stalk down the hall toward Kirk, "attempting to drop a

  brigforCe screen constitutes a jailbreak, sir. If you attempt to leave

  this area, I may be forced to shoot you." She raised frantic eyes to

  Kirk, her phaser still untouched on her hip.

  Kirk nodded, not interested in finding out how Taylor would cast this

  incident if Pack did as expected and carried out her duty. "Hold your

  fire, Ensign." She relaxed her shoulders in silent relief, and Kirk

  ambled over to block Taylor's path when the auditor made to hurry by

  him. "You seem to have this effect on everyone," the captain commented

  pleasantly. "Is it a talent, Mr. Taylor; or an acquired skill?"

  Taylor stopped before he could bump into Kirk, and sighed down at the

  captain. "I'm not interested in your sarcasm, Kirk." He jerked a nod

  over his shoulder. "Are you aware 'that your chief of security has

  incarcerated one of my auditors?"

  Kirk made a show of following Taylor's indicated gesture, eyebrows

  lifted. "I'm aware that one of your auditors violated Starfleet

  regulations, and that Lieutenant Chekov reacted accordingly." He cocked

  his head. "I thought you were the one with such a high regard for

  regulations."

  "For regulations, Captain," Taylor returned with a scowl. "Not for

  using them as an excuse to harass Federation officials. It's not as

  though Aaron murdered someone, or sold Starfleet secrets to the

  Klingons."

  "By setting off a false alarm," Kirk pointed out, "Mr. Kelly endangored

  the safety of everyone on this ship."

  "Endangered?" Taylor laughed, but it was malice that sparkled in his

  dark eyes. "Come on, Kirk--your man broke my man's nose, remember."

  Kirk laced his hands behind his back before his right fist clenched.

  "He's lucky Chekov didn't break his neck."

  Almost immediately, the captain could have kicked himself for his quick

  tongue. Taylor's mouth stretched thin on a predatory smile, and the

  auditor asked 'm grim innocence, "May I quote you on that?"

  Kirk wished it had been Taylor inspecting that transporter instead of

  Gendron. "You can do whatever you please," he said, "just so long as

  you do it from your quarters."

  Taylor pulled his head back, blinking. "Excuse me?"

  If Taylor was intent on deluging the Auditor General with complaints,

  Kirk figured he might just as well make the bad report a clean sweep. He

  wouldn't let his people go down without him, either way.

  "You're confined to quarters, Mr. Taylor," Kirk said, mimicking

  Taylor's expression of innocence. He felt some satisfaction, at least,

  in the frustration that flashed across the auditor's face. "Security's

  been investigating three deaths, not to mention all their usual starship

  duties. Lieutenant Chekov doesn't need you down here interfering with

  his people's efficiency, and I certainly don't need you coming to me

  every time something doesn't go to your liking. So--" He lifted a hand

  o wave Pack forward without taking his

  gaze off Taylor. "Ensign Pack, why don't you escort Mr. Taylor to his

  quarters? And see that Auditor Chaiken is in her room, as well. I

  don't think we'll need to assign a door guard, but I'm sure that can be

  arranged if Mr. Taylor would prefer it."

  Taylor jerked his elbow away from Paek's light touch. "I don't think

  that's necessary,Y he grumbled, glaring at the guard.

  Kirk smiled tightly and nodded. "I'm glad to hear that."

  "Will we be allowed out of our quarters again once your people have

  finished their investigation?"

  Kirk shrugged. "We'll talk about that when the time comes." He nodded

  Paek toward the turbolift, and she hastened to obey, one hand firm on

  Taylor's elbow despite his squirming. "I'll warn you, though," Kirk

  said as they passed, "investigations don't often go the way you want

  them to. And Lieutenant Chekov has a lot of other things to do."

  By 2300, Chekov almost wished Kirk had kept them around to fight it out

  with the Orions. It would have saved Chekov from joining his crew at

  the transporter room cleanup site, at least, and might have given him

  something to worry about besides a multiple murder, Scott's newly

  discovered petty thefts in engineering, and Taylor's plans for

  dismantling his department. Leaning back against the wall of the

  turbolift, the three infrared visors he carried clacking quietly against

  each other, Chekov listened to the lift slow for Deck Seven and hoped he

  wouldn't fall asleep in the absurdly long time it seemed to take the

  doors to open.

  Chekov hadn't seen Taylor since their fight this afternoon. Granted,

  the lieutenant had been in engi

  lOO

  neering since shortly after the Orions faded from view, following

  Scott's people around and compiling a list of the cutters, capacitors,

  and meters that suddenly no one in engineering could find. The junior

  engineers were convinced
someone had made away with the equipment;

  Chekov was convinced nerves had everyone scenting foul play in the

  aftermath of the transporter accident. "Why would .anyone need all

  these things?" he'd asked more than one of them. They'd only shrugged,

  returned the visors he'd sent down days before for repairs, and gone

  back to their work; they weren't willing to speculate.

  Too bad Taylor can't get into engineering, Chekov thought, heading down

  the evening-dimmed corridor toward his office. Any chance that Taylor

  might be a suspect in the robberies could have been excuse enough to

  bunk him in the brig alongside Kelly. Except that would probably

  guarantee the destruction of Cbekov's department, so the thought really

  wasn't so attractive, after all. Chekov shifted the visors uneasily

  from one hand to the other, wondering if Taylor could actually see some

  structural problem that he and Kirk were missing, or if all of this was

  nothing more than personal bias on the auditor's part. He fervently

  hoped it was the latter.

  Passing by the doorway to the duty desk, Chekov heard the murmur of

  discussion without being able to distinguish the actual words. He

  identified the guards on duty by the shape of their voices, by the

  characteristic rise and fall of their intonations and the length of

  their sentences Recchi and Paek. The careless pattern of their

  conversation said nothing was wrong, so Chekov didn't bother

  interrupting them. He was supposed to be off duty anyway; he could read

  their reports in the morning.

  lol

  He tossed the visors to his desktop amongst a scatter of waiting tapes

 

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