DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc and Viacom. The story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2002 by Djinn. This story is Rated PG-13.
It's Always Something
by Djinn
Christine Chapel walked out
of her office onto the bridge and found the Carter's helmsman and navigator in
the middle of a rather impassioned argument.
"I come from a long line
of singers, Mark, and I'm telling you that the breath control required for opera
is far greater than for some jog."
"Jog? I was on the Academy marathon team."
"Yeah, and how'd you do
at the Federation finals?"
The helmsman looked
down. "I was recovering from the
Vitriclian flu."
Sabuti smirked. "Breath control."
Christine looked at Kavall,
who shrugged, obviously trying not to laugh.
Kimble looked outraged. "I ran like the damn wind in the
qualifying races." At Sabuti's
shrug, he asked her, "Why don't you grace us with a song, Ms. Opera Singer?"
The navigator shook her
head. "I'm not warmed up. I could seriously damage my vocal
chords."
Kimble laughed. "Yeah, right."
Christine couldn't decide if
she wanted to sit down in the middle of the argument. But there was little to do as they orbited
Vulcan, waiting for some engine refits to be done and for Spock to finalize his
affairs after the death of his mother.
It was frankly getting a little dull just sitting around waiting. Shore leave had been authorized for whoever
wanted it, but very few lingered on Vulcan.
It wasn't really a place that screamed 'good time' to a crew on
liberty. Well, unless you were
Penhallon. She had to hide a grin. He had managed to finagle an invitation from
T'Clev to visit her temple and spend some time with her.
The doors to her office
opened and Christine turned in surprise to see Renata Farrell standing
there. "I came up the back
way," Farrell explained.
"Figured you'd be out here."
She grinned impishly at Christine.
"Redmoon needs help with some calibrations in the bio lab. I said I'd rustle up some skilled labor. You in?"
Grateful for something real
to do, Christine nodded. She caught
Kavall's eye. "You have the con,
Lieutenant."
"Yes, sir," Kavall
said with a wry grin. Christine noticed that
she didn't exchange her seat at the science center for one of the command
chairs.
"Everything ok?"
Farrell asked as the office door closed and they walked through to the rear
lift.
"Crew's a little on
edge. Boredom, I think."
"It's a morale killer." Farrell grinned. "Remember the stupid things we'd do at
Emergency ops when it got slow."
She laughed. "I seem to
recall a bet on who could drink more mai tai's after shift?"
Christine nodded,
laughing. "I still can't drink
rum."
"Me either." The lift opened on deck six. "Fortunately it didn't get boring very
often there."
"No. It was damn intense
most of the time."
"Yeah," Farrell
said with a wistful smile. "I have
so many good memories from those days."
"Me too. It was the most stressful job I've ever had,
but I had so much fun doing it."
She grinned at her friend.
"I think it was the company."
"Damn right."
"I never asked you how
your leave was?"
Farrell's expression
darkened.
"Ren?"
"It wasn't so good. Umachi's not talking to me right now."
"Why?"
Farrell shrugged. "She's upset but she won't tell me what
I did."
"I'm sorry, Ren. Hopefully she'll talk to you soon."
"Hopefully. The silent treatment gets old."
"I know. Randall never does that."
"Just one more reason to
love him," Farrell smiled at the expression on Christine's face. "He's the perfect guy for you, you
know."
"I'm aware,"
Christine said, trying not to think of what had happened with Spock when
Farrell was off the ship. In their own
way, both men were perfect for her. It
was a shame they weren't Deltans with their extended love families.
"Chris, my god, what are
you thinking about? You have the most
evil look."
Christine laughed at her own
silliness. "Nothing."
They walked through the admin
portion of the lab and stopped at the door to the containment room. Redmoon had the walls set to
transparent--normally they were darkened so that whoever was in the lab could
work free of distractions. He saw them
and waved them in. They waited in the
small anteroom as the pressure adjusted and the sensors made sure they weren't
bringing anything hazardous with them into the lab.
Redmoon smiled at them as
they stepped through the second door.
"I appreciate your help with this."
"Is there a problem with
containment?" Christine asked in concern.
"No. The efficiencies are well within normal
parameters. I just think they could be
better." He grinned.
"You're bored too,"
Christine realized.
"I can't tell you how
much," he said with a smile.
"But this is good for the ship, and good for us. So why not do it?"
"Why not indeed,"
she agreed.
He handed them instruments
and they moved around the room mapping the containment efficiencies. Christine looked at her numbers and began to make
some minor adjustments. "I don't
think there's much to do here," she said.
Redmoon nodded. "Maybe not. But I'd like to find that out now and not in
the middle of a crisis."
"Agreed," Farrell
said as she handed her scanner over to Christine. "This is one place I don't want to have
to worry if it's safe."
Christine was about to answer
when the computer's voice stopped her.
"Commander Chapel, Program 'Never Again' has been
initiated." The lab windows
darkened abruptly.
The other two turned to stare
at her. She frowned and said,
"Repeat."
"Program 'Never Again'
has been initiated."
She felt real panic. This was impossible. "Status?"
"Per your orders,
command functions have been locked down, all armories secured, and all off-duty
crew confined to their quarters or areas of recreation."
"What's going on,
Chris?" Farrell asked as she moved closer.
"Psi 2000 is what,"
Christine said as she moved to a side panel.
"Graphical schematic of ship," she told the computer. The panel lit up with a view of the
Carter. "Map virus
saturation."
The diagram began to light
up. The bridge was bright red; the areas
around it were lit with orange and yellow but were becoming red even as they
watched. "That's impossible,"
Christine breathed.
Redmoon moved up. "This can't be Psi 2000. It doesn't spread this fast."
She nodded. "You're right. Normally it's waterborne." She remembered how the virus had jumped from
crewman to crewman, passed in sweat and tears.
"Computer, obtain samples of virus and send them to the lab for
analysis."
"Affirmative,
Commander."
As Redmoon walked over to the
scope, she pointed to the map. Every
area was red, except for two small green spots.
"This is us, but what is this?"
Farrell leaned in. "The engine room. The refit team is in there."
"Of course. And they're on respirators." It was standard procedure to flush the
chamber and adjust the gravity to make it easier to lift the heavy engine
pieces. The refit crew would have no
idea that anything was happening. She
hit the comm switch. "First Officer
to Engineering."
A familiar voice came over
the line. "Kettering here,
Commander. What can I do for you?"
Farrell leaned forward a
concerned look on her face. "I
thought you were taking some time off?"
"I was. But there was an emergency on the Caledonia
and the techs were sent there instead.
And since they'd beamed up the equipment, I thought I'd go ahead and get
started. Beats sitting around obsessing
that I failed that damn recertification test. "
"So there's no refit
crew onboard?" Farrell asked.
"Just us, Commander
Farrell."
Christine was a little
surprised at Farrell's sudden interest in the crew manifest.
"I think he can handle a
simple refit, Ren," she said to Farrell.
"You keep working, Commander.
We've got a virus loose on the ship but you should be fine where you
are." She looked at Farrell,
"How long will their respirators last?"
Farrell thought for a second,
"About eight hours. And they have
enough in their stores to keep a standard 12-person emergency crew going for
two days."
"How many people are
with you, Commander?"
"Three."
"You should be fine then
for respirators. I've locked Engineering
down so you won't be able to get out but nobody will be able to get in
either. Whatever you do, don't let
anyone in. And I do mean anyone. Just keep working on those refits. I'll let you know when we've got things
cleared up."
"Aye, sir. Kettering out."
Redmoon waved them over. "It's Psi 2000 all right."
Christine looked at the familiar
pattern and felt her teeth clench. She
had never hated anything as much as she hated this virus. "Computer, bring up file Chapel 'Take
That'."
Both Redmoon and Farrell
looked at her.
"It's the
antiviral," she explained as it loaded.
"Surprisingly simple. But
then so was Psi 2000."
"Was?" Farrell
asked.
"It's been
modified," Redmoon explained.
"Same basic structure as the original but engineered for more rapid
dispersion."
Farrell frowned. "How rapid?"
Christine pointed at the ship
diagram. "That fast,
Ren." She looked at Redmoon,
"That compound was intended for the original. You'll probably need to tweak it for the new
matrix."
"Got it." He went to work.
"And us?"
Christine walked to the map
again. "Computer, locate origin of
infection."
"Origin is Captain's
ready room."
"But he's on
Vulcan." She hit the comm
switch. "Chapel to Spock."
"Spock here," his
voice sounded different, wrong.
"I thought you were on
Vulcan with Nako?"
"Nako stayed with my
father. I was finished with my business
affairs and decided to come back."
There was a pause, then in a heavy voice he said, "I had to
leave."
"Are you okay?"
"I am sad,
Christine."
She closed her eyes for a
moment. She had wanted to think that he
might be safe from all this. "We
have a virus outbreak. It started in
your office."
"Ah, that would explain
the box."
"The box? What box."
"A gift from
someone. Quite beautiful. The craftsmanship is exquisite--Vulcan
third century from the look of it." He paused for a moment.
"Spock?"
"I am here,
Commander. Just admiring the box. When I opened it, some sort of
trigger mechanism went off and there was a very small explosion."
"You didn't call
security?"
"It was going to comm
them when you hailed."
"Spock, it's the Psi
2000 virus." She hoped there was
enough rational thought left in him to respond to what she was saying.
"Unfortunate," was
his response. "Are you
affected?"
"No. We were in the lab when it hit." She took a deep breath. "I've initiated procedures to lock down
crucial functions on the ship. There'll
be no one flying us into a star on my watch."
"I am relieved to hear
that." He sighed. "I must retire to my quarters. Meditation may help."
"We'll have an antiviral
soon," she promised.
"Christine. How did you know what it was so fast?"
"You of all people know
what this virus was like. I came to
resent it. A lot. So I made it my business to get to know it,
to make sure that if it ever hit again, I'd be ready for it."
"I see." There was another heavy sigh, then he
whispered, "I do remember that time.
I was sad because of my mother then too."
"Go to your quarters,
Spock," she said firmly, cutting the channel and turning to Farrell. "We know Nako's still down on the
planet. Find out who else we don't have
to account for up here."
"You got it,"
Farrell said as she turned to a spare terminal and began calling up the
personnel lists.
Christine walked over to
Redmoon, "What do you think?"
He pointed to the left side
of the screen where he'd split off the virus image from his calculations. "There was an initial effect when I
applied the antiviral. But then the
virus rallied. I think I need to adjust
the level of the peptides."
"Keep me
posted."
"You're going out
there? But the ship's out of danger,
right?"
She nodded. "The ship is. Her crew isn't."
--------------------------
Farrell turned to
Christine. "The senior staff is on
board except for Nako, Sovar, Penhallon, Troi, and Moorehouse. Of the rest of the crew, only a few Vulcans
elected to visit their families."
"I've loaded these with
tranquilizers." Christine handed
her several hypos. "Put gloves
on. This thing may be airborne, but I
bet it still passes on contact too."
Farrell saw that Christine
already had her gloves on. She pulled on
a pair and felt the material mold to her hand.
Christine pulled on a
full-face respirator, then gave Farrell one.
Like the gloves, the material molded itself to her head, making it impossible
to accidentally knock the mask off.
Farrell went to a panel in
the wall and entered an emergency code.
When the panel wouldn't open, she looked over at Christine. "When
you locked out the armories did that include the emergency phasers too?"
"Yep. Trust me, in the long run you'll be glad
there aren't any weapons loose on the ship.
Okay, let's go," Christine said, leading the way out of the lab. They waited for the decon procedures to
finish and the pressure to readjust before opening the outer door, then headed
for the lift.
The corridor was empty and
they hurried on. They were almost to the
lift when the door to sickbay opened and Carpenter walked out. She was rubbing her hands together compulsively. "What's happening?"
"Go around her,
Ren," Christine said as she stopped.
"Go back inside, Delynn.
Everything's fine."
"I've washed and
washed," Carpenter went on, as if she hadn't heard Christine. "What if I don't get them clean?"
"Go back inside,"
Christine said.
Carpenter stared at her, then
turned and went back inside sickbay.
Christine waited until the
doors had closed then said, "Computer lock sickbay"
"Is this what it's going
to be like?" Farrell asked.
"This is nothing
compared to what it's going to be like.
It just gets weirder from here."
"Great."
Christine called for the
lift. "We need to find a place to
put the people we find roaming. Most
work areas are too sensitive to just leave them."
"Like the bridge?"
"Exactly like the
bridge. I don't want anyone up
there."
Farrell considered the
options. "What about the conference
room near sickbay? If that gets full we
can start stuffing them in the party room."
"Good idea. They'll be close by when the antiviral is
ready."
The lift doors opened to the
same argument that Farrell and Christine had left. Only now Kimble and Sabuti were on their feet
and yelling. Kavall and Saldusta were
laughing hysterically. Myrax looked
extremely troubled and was trying to make her console do something it was
clearly refusing to do. Farrell glanced
over and saw that the Manean had targeted the Vulcan defense grid and was
trying to fire.
"What are you doing,
Lieutenant?" she asked.
Myrax leapt to
attention. "Proving that I am a
good tactical officer, sir!"
"No one has any doubt of
that, Lieutenant. But I don't think
firing at our friends is the way to reinforce that impression."
"But sir, there is never
anything to fire at."
Farrell tried not to
laugh. "Well, this is a
'diplomatic' ship. We tend to avoid
firing at people."
"Yes, sir." The tactical officer sat down
dejectedly. "What was I thinking
when I accepted this post?"
Farrell was about to pat her
on the shoulder but then decided not to risk the contact. "Buck up, Lieutenant. There may be a threat someday, and you're
just the tactical officer to kick their butts to kingdom come."
Myrax brightened. "Thank you, sir. Do you think that day will come soon?"
Farrell was spared from
answering when Christine emerged from Spock's ready room carrying a red lacquer
box. "Looks Vulcan," Christine
said. "Spock must have brought it
up with him from the planet."
"Must have,"
Farrell agreed distractedly as she tried to herd the bridge crew onto the
lift. "Come on kids, let's
go," she said.
They had unloaded on deck six
and were heading to sickbay when Christine suddenly stopped and looked down a
side corridor. "Oh, crap," she
said as she took off at a run. Saldusta
followed her.
"Hell, let's all
go," Farrell said as she urged the rest into a run.
Kimble glanced at Sabuti and
said, "Now you'll see. I am the
wind." And in a few long strides he
caught up to and passed Christine and Saldusta.
When they stopped suddenly, he kept going, moving effortlessly until he
disappeared around the corner.
"Great," Farrell
said, then she saw what had attracted Christine's attention.
Sparks. Coming from the access panel. Christine pried open the cover and reached
in, dragging a marine halfway out of the space before he realized what was
happening and began to struggle. Saldusta
grabbed him from the other side and grinned at Christine. "I will help you. I only want to help you."
The marine struggled harder,
but Saldusta seemed to ignore him even as she held on like a terrier. "I want you to be proud of me."
"I am proud of you,
Saldusta," Christine gritted, as she pulled the marine the rest of the way
out.
"My mother never
was. No matter how hard I tried. But I
can make you proud of me," Saldusta said as she let go of the marine. "I just want another chance."
Farrell scanned inside the
space. There were some scorch stresses
but the marine must not have had time to do any significant damage. "What exactly were you trying to
accomplish, Private?" she asked the man.
"I'm getting off this
damn ship. I can't stand it anymore."
Farrell picked up the cutting
torch. "So you were going to just
make yourself a little door?"
Christine looked at his
nametag. "Lawrence, is it? Just relax. We'll get you off the ship as
soon as we can if it bothers you that much." She helped him up, then stepped to replace
the panel. "It's just going to be a
little while before we can--"
"No more little whiles,
no more it's going to get better. I'm
getting off now."
Farrell realized too late that
he had pulled out a phaser and had a direct line on Christine's chest. "Chris!" she yelled even as he
brought the weapon up to fire.
"No!" Saldusta
screamed and launched herself between him and Chapel. The weapon fire scored a narrow line down her
side and she screamed.
Lawrence was aiming again
when a long leg came out and kicked the weapon out of his hand. Myrax followed up her kick with two quick
punches to his head and one to the stomach.
Farrell had the bizarre impression of watching an angel pummel the crap
out of someone--Myrax never lost her normal serene expression as she knocked
Lawrence unconscious. As he fell, the
phaser dropped. Farrell retrieved it and
saw that he'd set it to a cutting beam.
Setting it back to stun, she stuck it in her uniform.
"Is he dead?"
Kavall asked brokenly.
Myrax looked up. "Would you like him to be?"
"No," Christine
ordered as she moved to help Saldusta.
"Just bring him to sickbay, if you would, Lieutenant."
Kavall backed up as Myrax
dragged Lawrence by her. "They all
die."
"No, Nevara,"
Christine said as she led the group back to sickbay. "They don't all die."
Sabuti seemed unusually
quiet. Farrell shot her a glance and
frowned. The woman was breathing heavily
as if she couldn't get enough air.
"Lieutenant Sabuti?"
"It is all breath
control."
Christine turned around. "Sabuti, now is not the time for
opera."
But Sabuti had already begun
to run scales that bore no resemblance to anything that could be called
music. Off key didn't even begin to
cover the way she was murdering the notes, Farrell thought, as she turned away
from the cacophony. Even Kavall stopped
crying long enough to look at the navigator with a horrified look on her face.
Saldusta looked up at
Christine. "That hurts worse than
my side, Commander."
Christine nodded. "Be glad you'll be in sickbay and she'll
be in the conference room."
Lawrence started to come
around and Myrax looked at Christine eagerly.
"May I hit him again, sir?"
"No. Not unless he tries something."
Farrell wondered just how
broadly Myrax would define 'something.'
Christine had already turned back to Saldusta. Farrell smiled as she watched her friend talk
to the young woman. She was an excellent
role model, which was a good thing, since Saldusta seemed to be looking for a
surrogate mother. But if she was going
to make a habit of saving Christine, Farrell didn't see a problem with that.
"What's that
noise?" Myrax asked, then realized they could only hear Sabuti. "The other noise," she clarified as
she pointed down the corridor.
Then they all heard it. A rhythmic thump thump thump. A few seconds later, Kimble rounded the
corner. "I am the wind," he
screamed at Sabuti as he passed her.
"You are not," she
screeched to his rapidly disappearing back.
Saldusta groaned.
"Boy sure can run,"
Farrell said to no one in particular, and made a note to remember Kimble if she
ever had to put together an intramural track team.
---------------------------------------
Christine sighed as they got
the bridge crew and Lawrence safely locked into the conference room.
"You know how cruel it
is to lock them in with Sabuti, right?" Farrell asked.
"Well maybe Myrax will
knock her out too," Christine said as she helped Saldusta to sickbay. "Computer, open sickbay doors."
"Provide passcode."
"Platonius."
The doors opened.
She saw Farrell's look and
shrugged. "One humiliation for
another."
"You don't forget,
that's for sure. How many years have you
been waiting for this virus to hit again?"
"Too many,"
Christine said as she eased Saldusta onto a biobed. "Can you find me a regenerator,"
she asked, as she rounded up the sickbay staff.
Carpenter's hands looked like she had tried to wash them. Repeatedly.
With acid. Christine took the
regenerator from Farrell and ran it over the abraded flesh. Then she led the team out to the conference
room. Sabuti was still singing. "I'm really sorry about this. I'll make it up to you," Christine said
to Carpenter and the rest of the medical staff as she locked the door.
When she got back, Farrell
asked, "Won't she need a nurse or something?" She pointed at Saldusta, who was lying with
her eyes closed and her teeth tightly clenched.
"No. And I don't want them bothering
her." Christine filled a hypo with
painkiller and held it against Saldusta's neck.
"You're so good to me,
Commander," the woman murmured as she slipped into sleep.
"And you thought you
didn't have any kids," Farrell teased.
Christine just smiled wryly
as she ran the regenerator over the phaser burn. "Good thing he had the phaser set to
narrow beam. If he'd had this on
kill..."
"I know." Farrell went to the comm switch. "Farrell to Redmoon."
"Redmoon here."
"Any luck with the antiviral,
Doctor?" Christine asked.
"I've made some
modifications and the virus is beginning to respond. But I'm a long way from done."
"Understood. We're going to make sure everyone that is
loose is locked down. Call us if you
need anything."
"Yes, sir. Oh and Kettering called in earlier. He said that he's gotten some very strange
requests from crewmen wanting access to the engine room. He finally stopped answering the chime."
"Smart man. If he runs into trouble, let us know. Good luck, Doctor."
"You too. Redmoon out."
Christine turned off the
regenerator. "She'll be fine
now. A little rest won't hurt
her." Without thinking about it,
she touched the scales on Saldusta's hair, gently smoothing down a few that had
been disturbed in the fight. She looked
up and saw Farrell grinning at her.
"Okay, so I'm a sucker for a kid in distress."
Farrell was filling more
hypos with tranquilizer. "Hey, the
kid probably saved your life. He had a
bead on your heart. You could have been
killed."
A new voice sounded. "Someone tried to kill Christine?"
"Damn. Forgot to lock the door." Christine turned to Kerr, who was standing in
the doorway, a look of anxious concern on his face. "I'm fine."
"But she said you were
in danger."
Christine took a last look at
Saldusta. "She's okay now. Let's lock sickbay up."
As she walked to the door,
Kerr caught her up in a bear hug.
"I just want to keep you safe," he murmured into her
hair. His hands fiddled with her
respirator. "Want to touch
you."
She jerked away. "Let's leave the mask alone,
Randall."
"But I want to keep you
safe."
"And the mask is doing
that," Farrell interjected.
He turned to her. "You know all I want is to make her
happy?"
"And you're doing that,
Colonel. But not when you try to take
off her respirator. So no more,
okay?"
"You know best," he
said, turning back to Christine.
"Let me keep you safe."
He reached for her hand.
She wouldn't give it to
him. "Don't you have work to do,
Randall? Let's get you back to your
office, okay?"
He brightened. "I do.
I have a memo to write. I'm going
to tell them I just want to do my job. I'm going to keep people safe." His face fell. "They never seem to get that
though. It's always do this and do that. Never what I want to do, either. They're always getting in my way." He glared at Farrell.
Christine frowned at her, and
Farrell held up her hands, laughing.
"Hey, I don't know what he's yammering about any more than you
do."
After another brief argument
over whether he should carry Christine down the corridor to keep her safe, they
finally got him to his office. Christine
locked the door and looked at Farrell. "Well,
you ready for this?"
"Sure."
Many hours later, when they
finally cleared decks eight through twelve, Christine thought she was going to
collapse. And they still had the upper
decks to check. Stifling a moan at the
thought, she tried not to think about how much she needed to scratch her face
under the respirator. She felt hot and
the air was starting to seem stale. They
were headed back to the lab for new respirators when Redmoon hailed them.
"I've got it. It's synthesizing now. Should be ready in about half an hour."
"Fantastic."
"It's going to take a
few hours for anyone who has been infected to come out of it. But for us, and the engineering crew, it
should provide immediate protection."
"Wonderful. Can you beam some hypos to engineering?"
"Already did,"
Redmoon replied. "And I'm taken
care of. Just waiting for you two."
"We're on our way back
now. Chapel out."
Farrell groaned. "So we have to go give all those people
the antiviral now?"
Christine smiled. "We just have to get the command crew
and sickbay on its feet. Then the
sickbay team can take care of the rest of the crew."
"Oh, thank god."
As they headed down the last
corridor to the lab, Ritsuko stepped out from a side hall. "Renata, we have to talk."
Farrell stopped. "I want to talk to you too, Machi. But now isn't really a good time."
Ritsuko stepped forward. "No one else calls me that. I missed hearing it."
"Well, you're the one
staying away."
"You're the one cheating
on me."
Christine felt very
uncomfortable listening in but didn't want to leave Farrell in case she needed
assistance.
"I'm not cheating on
you. Where did you get that idea?"
"Don't lie to me,"
Ritsuko shrieked at her.
Farrell held out her
hand. "Baby, I don't know why you
think that I cheated on you but it just isn't true. We need to talk about this but not right now
because I'm really busy. I need you to
wait for us in the party room, okay?"
"I saw you!" Ritsuko started to walk toward Farrell, her
hands clenched tightly, tears pooling in her eyes. "I saw you and her. In the bar.
And her little gift. You think I
wouldn't notice that she gave you a--"
There was a whine of a phaser
and then Ritsuko crumpled to the ground.
Christine turned to Farrell in shock.
"You shot her. What the hell
are you doing?"
"I was out of
tranks."
"Well, I wasn't."
"It's on stun," she
said defensively.
Christine rushed to Ritsuko
and checked her vitals. "You don't
need to shoot anyone."
"I wasn't sure what she
was going to do, okay." Farrell's
voice sounded more on edge than Christine had heard it. "She's all right, isn't she?"
"She'll be fine. But don't shoot anyone else, you got
that?"
Farrell stared down at
Ritsuko.
"Ren?"
She nodded numbly. "Don't shoot anyone. I've got it."
------------**------------------
Redmoon heard the outer lab door
open and went to the window in the door, watching as the two women struggled
with their respirators. "Wait until
you're inside the lab," he reminded them over the intercom.
They stopped trying to get
the masks off and just stood as the deconn did its work. When the inner door slid open, they walked
heavily through. He greeted them with a
dosage of the antiviral. Christine moved
to undo her mask, but Farrell seemed to be having trouble with hers. "Let me," he said gently as he hit
the small control that released the respirator.
"Thanks," she said
as she ripped the mask off. Her face was
red and sweaty. He knew how it felt, had
spent enough long hours working in a mask to sympathize.
Christine looked little
better. Her normally pale skin was blotchy
and her hair had worked loose where the mask had met her skin. She pushed it back impatiently. "How long do we have to wait?"
"About half an
hour. Why don't you sit down and rest
while I finish loading the hypos."
"Good idea." Farrell said as she headed for one of the
stools. Pulling herself up, she leaned
forward, crossing her arms to make a pillow for her head. Her eyes closed.
Redmoon was afraid she'd fall
off the stool and was about to say something when Christine put a hand on his
arm and shook her head. "She's
fine. I've never seen her fall. Now, can
I help you?"
"Sit down, Commander,
before you fall down."
She grinned and did as he
said. "It'll be great not to have
to wear the respirator."
He nodded, absorbed in loading
the hypo. "Vulcans will need a
higher dosage."
"Right." She sighed.
He turned to look at
her. "Why were you prepared for
this virus, Commander?" He'd been
trying to work that out in his mind ever since they left and hadn't had much success. Her explanation to Spock had been so cryptic.
She sighed even louder. "When I was on the Enterprise, the ship
was infected with it. It made people say
things they wouldn't otherwise.
Embarrassing things."
"It made people or
you?"
She grinned. "Well, both. But yeah, me.
I didn't ever think I'd live down what happened."
"It was that bad?"
She nodded.
"So you wanted to be
ready in case this virus decided to strike again."
"That's about the size
of it."
He grinned. "Your own personal bogeyman."
"We've all got one,
right?"
He nodded. "Mine is Nalibrian Typhus." He closed his eyes as he remembered what the
victims had looked like--he tried not to remember what they had smelled like.
"I've never had to deal
with that."
"Be glad."
She nodded and watched him
work for a while. When he finished, he
handed her several hypos before scanning her.
"You're clear. Let's check
sleeping beauty." He walked over to
Farrell's stool and began to scan her.
The low hum of the machine startled her awake.
"It wasn't like that,
Machi," she said, trailing off as she realized where she was. She looked over at Christine. "Time to go?"
"Yep," Christine
answered as she gave Farrell some hypos.
"There's a certain special forces colonel I'd like to get back on
our team. At least before I go into the
Vulcan's den."
"That's probably
wise," Redmoon said as he grabbed some hypos for himself. "I'll
handle the sickbay team, where are they?"
"Conference room,"
Christine shared a look with Farrell.
"Look out for the bridge crew.
They're a little out there right now."
"Nevara?" he felt
the rush of fear for her that he'd been keeping under wraps as he worked come
rushing to the surface.
"She's fine. Just a little emotional."
He frowned as he followed them
out. As they headed for the lift, he
opened the conference room door. The
sickbay team must have been pressed to the door because when he opened it, they
all fell through, landing hard on the ground and crawling quickly away. While they were down, he distributed the
antiviral, wondering what was making the god awful noise that was coming from
inside the conference room.
"Make it stop," one
of the nurses begged him.
"Make what stop?"
he asked. "What the hell is
it?" he muttered as he walked slowly into the conference room, holding his
hands over his ears. He never saw the
kick that knocked him across the room.
He heard Nevara cry out in
terror, "You've killed him."
She means me, he thought, as
he blacked out.
-----------------------------
Christine watched Kerr as he
worked feverishly on the computer console in his office. He hadn't seen Farrell or her come in. "No firing," she ordered Farrell
who seemed to have recovered her composure.
Farrell grinned
unremorsefully and said, "Sir, yes, sir."
Christine glared at her then
turned to Kerr. "Randall," she
called gently.
He spun and smiled when he
saw her. "You're safe! I shouldn't have left you. I've been very worried. I wasn't sure
anything was really safe." He saw
Farrell behind her and his look changed as he asked her, "How can we keep
it safe?"
"We do our jobs,
Colonel," Farrell answered carefully.
"Our jobs," he
repeated with a bleak look in his eyes.
"Our jobs are supposed to be to protect people. But they don't even allow that there are
people we care about, that we'd do anything to keep safe. How do we change that?" He turned back to the computer he was working
on. "I have to figure it out."
Farrell gave him a sour look,
then turned back to Christine. "As
virus sufferers go, he's really boring, Chris."
"He's just
earnest," Christine said defensively as she walked up to him. "Randall, I want you to hold still, all
right?"
"Only want to do what's
right," he muttered.
She took that as a yes. Holding the hypo spray against his neck, she
gave it the long blast that the antiviral required. He didn't react.
Farrell chuckled behind
her. "Let's hope they're all this
easy to dose."
Christine smiled. "He trusts me." She ruffled his hair. "Randall, can you come with me? I need you to keep me safe, okay?"
He looked up at her. "I need to finish this. Need to send it. They have to know I can't do this if they
won't let me keep people safe."
Farrell walked up and studied
the document. Smiling at Kerr, she said,
"I'll send it for you, Colonel. Let
me sit."
He rose reluctantly. "You won't be able to send it. The computer's locked out."
She nodded as she slid into
his seat. "I know but I have
special accesses. You need to look away
while I enter my password."
He seemed about to question
her, so Christine took his hand.
"We aren't cleared for that, Randall." He finally nodded and as he averted his eyes,
Christine saw Farrell rapidly delete the message. Her friend looked up and winked at her. "All gone."
Kerr looked at the
screen. "There is no record."
"Of course not, it's
very secret that way." Farrell was
trying not to laugh.
"Come on, Randall. You've sent your message. Now, I need your help." Christine turned to Farrell. "I'm going to find Spock."
"And I suppose you'd
like me to round up your bridge crew?"
"That'd be nice,"
Christine agreed as she led Kerr out of his office. "Just don't shoot anyone."
"You're absolutely no
fun," her friend teased.
"Before I go, I'm going to make sure that Colonel Safety here
didn't create any other love notes for Starfleet command."
"Good idea,"
Christine said. She remembered the rash
of bizarre memos and private messages that had been delivered all over the
Enterprise in the days after Psi 2000 had hit the ship. Randall was quick and efficient; Goddess only
knew how many security upgrades and complaints he'd readied. "Keep me posted on your status."
"Roger that,
Chris," Farrell said, as she turned back to the computer.
Christine had to fend Kerr
off as they walked down the corridor. He
tried to sweep her into his arms, then when she resisted attempted to lift her
into a firefighter's carry.
"Randall, put me down now, dammit.
I'm fine."
He set her down gently. "Just want to keep you safe," he
said somewhat sulkily as he followed her into the lift.
"I am safe." She smiled at him.
"Never safe,
Christine," he said solemnly.
"Never ever safe." He
seemed very glum as she led him out of the lift and down the corridor to
Spock's door. There was no answer to
their chime.
"Computer, are Captain
Spock's quarters currently occupied."
"Negative."
"Locate Commander
Spock."
"Location unknown."
Damn, Christine thought. Wherever he went he wasn't in uniform and
didn't have his communicator. Fine, we do
this the hard way. "Come on,"
she said to Kerr.
They found Spock in the
greenhouse. He was standing
motionlessly, staring at the roses when she and Kerr walked in. His voice was low and raw. "Go away."
"It's me, Spock."
He turned to her. "My mother grew this variety. They never prospered on Vulcan."
Christine turned to
Kerr. "Stay here."
He shook his head. "Must keep you safe."
"Fine. Keep me safe from here." She could see he was going to argue. "That's an order, Colonel." Turning away from him, she walked to
Spock. "What's this one
called?"
"I do not
know." He walked to the
viewscreen. "Something
inappropriate undoubtedly. Humans award
flora such whimsical names."
She smiled. "I guess we do." She moved to his side. "Do you trust me, Spock?"
He didn't answer.
"Well, let's hope you
do. Because if there was ever a time I
need you to trust me, it's now," she said as she held the hypo to his
neck. It ran out just as he realized
what she was doing.
With a roar, he knocked her away
from him. She landed on the grass and
felt the wind go out of her. Desperately
trying to breathe, she rolled to her side and panted.
"What have you
done?" Spock said as he moved toward her.
Kerr was already moving. "Don't touch her!" He launched himself at Spock. The momentum knocked the Vulcan to the ground
and Kerr landed on top of him and threw a hard punch. "You leave her the hell alone!"
Spock tried to knock him off
but Kerr couldn't be moved. The Vulcan
reached up and his hands tightened around Kerr's neck. He began to squeeze even as Kerr's punches
became more vicious.
Christine pulled herself
up. "Stop it!" She hurried over and tried to pull Spock's
hands from Kerr's neck. They wouldn't
budge and Kerr didn't stop his pummeling.
She scanned the room for
something, anything to use to separate them.
Finally she saw the hose and ran to it.
As she set it for hard spray, she could see that Kerr was beginning to
gasp for air. She turned the water on,
and as she sprayed them the frustration and the long hours she'd put in finally
made her snap. "Stop it this
instant! There will be no fighting. No punching, no kicking, no strangling, no
more of this." Her last word ended
in a shriek. She didn't stop the water
until the two men quit fighting and stared over at her, twin looks of tender
concern on their dripping faces.
She was just getting warmed
up as she threw the hose down and started to pace. "That's not all either. There will be no cutting holes in the ship,
no operatic solos, no cross country marathons, no lover's spats in the
corridors, and most especially no making me hose you down like two damn alley
cats!"
She turned to see that Kerr
had crawled off Spock and was helping him up.
"I don't need this! Do you hear me? I don't need you fighting each other or
me. I need you with me. Both of you." She turned away. "Do you understand?"
"Yes,
Christine." Kerr's voice was low
and intimate. Then she heard Spock's
voice echo the words...and the tone.
She looked over at them. They were both staring at her intently. "What?"
Kerr moved first. He stepped to her side and put his arm around
her back, pulling her closer. As he
nuzzled her neck, he said, "We will be with you."
Then Spock was on the other
side of her, murmuring, "Yes, both of us."
"Uh, guys, not quite
what I meant," she whispered as they gently but relentlessly forced her
down. She tried to pull away, but they
held her firmly until she was lying on the grass between them. "You don't understand--"
Spock laid his finger to her
lips. "We understand." He began to stroke her cheek.
"I've got you,
Christine. Just let go," Kerr
whispered to her, his hand caressing her breasts through her uniform.
Just for a moment, she
thought, as she let herself surrender to the sensation of both of them touching
her. Spock's lips were on hers as Kerr
undid her uniform and pulled it from her shoulders, kissing the skin hidden
underneath.
She moaned, half-heartedly
trying to stop them.
Spock drew away, his expression
so tender as he smoothed the hair from her face that she lost whatever little
will to fight she had left. She looked
over at Kerr who moved up and stared down at her while Spock began to draw her
uniform the rest of the way off. As Kerr
leaned in to kiss her, a drop of water slid from his hair and hit her in the
forehead, breaking the spell she was falling under.
"Sometimes--" she
said as she wiped her eyes then fumbled for one of the tranquilizer hyposprays
"--I really hate my life." She
pressed it to Kerr's neck and he collapsed against her.
Spock looked at the fallen
Kerr, then at her, his expression changing from surprise to one of
pleasure. "It is only the two of
us, my Christine? You have chosen
me."
"Not quite, Spock,"
she said as she adjusted the hypo and laid it against his skin. "You just need a higher
dosage." He looked at her in a
moment of surprise, then fell away from her.
She gently pushed Kerr off
her and got up, refastening her now cold and damp uniform as she tried to brush
grass from her backside. At least they
had chosen one of the few dry spots of ground.
It would be hard enough to explain why the front of her was soaked.
She stared down at Kerr and
Spock. They were lying quite close, both
curled toward the spot where she had been lying between them. She started to smile. "Oh, to be a fly on the wall when you
two wake up," she said as she gave Spock a dose of the antiviral then
turned away and squished across the wet grass.
It was time to go help Farrell.
------------------------------
"This won't hurt a bit,
Lieutenant," Farrell said as she held the hypo against Kavall's neck. She had found the science officer in her
cabin weeping uncontrollably. Her tears
hadn't stopped, but at least the awful keening had.
"He's going to die. Just like Tom did." She held up a holo of a smiling young
man. "He was so handsome. Don't you think?"
"Not really my
type. But yeah, he's easy on the
eyes."
"He was a good man. Just like Leon." Her voice rose as she started to sob
again. "She killed him."
Don't stun her, don't stun
her, don't stun her, Farrell repeated Christine's admonition as if it was a
mantra. Kavall's weeping
intensified. Remembering the scene in
the conference room, Farrell guessed she couldn't blame her. It had looked worse than it was. She had found most of the bridge crew milling
around outside the conference room and Redmoon lying unconscious inside. But after a few bad minutes when he didn't
seem to be responding, she had gotten him up and walking around. "He's going to be fine. He was just knocked out."
"Have I ever told you
about him?"
"Doctor Redmoon?"
"No. You know him.
He's such a good man." Her
sobs increased. "My husband Tom. Have I told you about him?"
Farrell sighed. "Nope.
Why don't you get up and tell me all about him." She saw Kavall eye the picture longingly. "Bring the holo with you if you
want."
"It's not very
professional to be carrying it in the halls," Kavall said. "But just this once." Still sniffing, she got up and followed
Farrell into the hall.
Farrell took a quick head
count. "Oh damn, now where'd Myrax
go?"
"She is over
there," sang Sabuti, her voice cracking as she reached for the high note.
Myrax had cornered a young
ensign. "They never told me how
boring it would be. Day after day,
sitting at that middle console watching the others work. Why did I think being tactical officer on a
diplomatic ship was a good idea?"
She towered over the young
man, who gulped and said, "Sir, I don't know, sir."
"Neither do I. Do you know how many tactical configurations
I have consigned to memory?"
He shook his head, obviously
worried that she might recite them.
"Or how many fight
styles I am familiar with." She
struck an intimidating pose.
The ensign gulped.
Farrell took pity on
him. "Lieutenant. Over here." When the Manean didn't move, Farrell yelled,
"Now!"
Myrax double-timed it
back. "Sir, I serve no purpose on
this ship."
"You will if we're ever
attacked. Or if we ever need an enforcer
squad." Farrell noticed that the
rest of the group was starting to disperse and motioned for Myrax to follow
her.
"You found her."
Sabuti drew the three words out forever.
She was horribly off key.
"Shut. Up."
Farrell said, giving the navigator her best death glare.
Sabuti was unimpressed and in
a low voice that was no more melodic than her high one had been, she answered,
"I am not afraid of you."
"Hasn't she stopped
yet?" Christine asked as she walked out of the lift down the corridor.
Farrell grinned, relieved to
see reinforcements. "Not for a
second."
"You have my
condolences, Ren."
Farrell realized that the
front of Christine's uniform was wet.
And was that grass in her hair?
"Something you want to tell me, Chris?"
"Not in a million
years," Christine answered as she looked at the group. "Kimble's missing."
"Well, missing would
imply that I actually caught him at some point."
"And you didn't?"
Farrell shook her head. "To catch him, I would have had to stop
him. The man wasn't kidding when he said
he could run." She heard familiar footsteps approaching and said,
"This is lap seven or so just since we've been here. You might want to back up."
Christine didn't understand until
the sound of feet hitting the deck hard and fast became unmistakable. She followed the others' example, and
flattened herself against the wall.
Sabuti launched into a barely
recognizable version of 'Ride of the Valkyries,' singing, "Oh, here he comes
now. Look at him run now. Look at him run now. Look at him run."
Farrell was pretty sure those
weren't the real lyrics.
As Sabuti attempted to hit
the most stirring part, Kimble came into view.
"I am the wind," he yelled as he flew past them.
"Okay then,"
Christine said as she watched him disappear around the corner. "What do you say we just let the wind
run himself out?"
"Sounds good to
me," Farrell agreed. "Besides,
we're in orbit. We don't really need a
helmsman right now, do we?"
Christine laughed. "Damn good point, Ren."
"We don't really need a
navigator either," Farrell asked hopefully.
"No shooting,"
Christine said sternly. She turned to
the others. "Okay, to the
bridge."
Farrell followed the group to
make sure that nobody veered off. As
they walked to the lift she wondered why there were grass stains on the back of
Chris's uniform.
-------------------------------
Coming slowly to
consciousness, Kerr groaned as he realized he was cold and wet. He opened his eyes and saw Spock curled up
next to him. "What the hell?"
he said as realized they were lying on the grass in the greenhouse.
Spock's eyes opened and he
looked at Kerr in query.
"Colonel?"
"Oh, shit," Kerr
said as he remembered what happened.
Spock seemed to have a
similar epiphany. Pushing himself off
the grass, he replied, "That would appear to sum up this situation
admirably."
Kerr sat up. "I can't believe she just left us
here. Anyone could have walked in."
"Knowing Christine, she put
a command lock on the door."
Kerr felt slightly
mollified. "Well, there's one way
to find out."
Spock followed him to the
main door. Christine had indeed locked
everyone out. Kerr shook his head. "Guess she didn't want to explain this
either."
"I would think
not." Spock entered his code to
cancel the lockout.
"Although..." Kerr couldn't finish his thought.
Spock turned to him. "Although what, Colonel?"
"She did seem to be
enjoying it. I mean until she knocked us
out."
There was a long silence,
then Spock turned away. "A subject
I plan to let drop. If you wish to
pursue it in private, Randall, that is your business."
"Right, sir. I wasn't suggesting that we..." He trailed off as Spock's eyebrow rose. "Sir, with all due respect, this
situation and our conversations just keep getting weirder."
"The mission is yet
young, Colonel," Spock said with a glint of amusement in his eyes. "The laws of probability suggest that
there will be times when things will be even more complicated."
"That's not very
comforting, Captain." Kerr followed
him into the corridor. "And not
really the issue. What the hell happened
here?"
"That is what we need to
ascertain." Spock took in the state
of Kerr's uniform, looked down at his own.
"We are far from regulation.
I suggest remedying that."
"Yes, sir."
"Meet me in my ready
room when you are changed."
Kerr rode the lift to deck
four and headed for his quarters. He saw
Kimble slowly jogging toward him, his head hanging in apparent exhaustion. "Lieutenant, what are you doing?"
"I...am...the...wind..."
Kimble panted as he struggled by.
Kerr watched him go. "Weirder and weirder," he muttered
as he resumed the walk to his quarters.
--------------**-------------------
It took a few hours for the
essential members of the crew to recover.
Christine called down to engineering and Kettering reported that his
crew was starting to report back to work.
"Glad to hear it,
Commander. I'll instruct the computer to
return engineering command to your section."
"Thank you, sir. Kettering out."
She looked around at the
bridge crew. Except for Kimble's empty
chair, the seats were filled by willing if rather embarrassed officers working
their now functioning terminals.
Saldusta looked tired but she
had insisted on taking her post.
"Sir, I'm fine."
Christine wasn't sure of
that, but decided not to argue.
"Very well, Lieutenant.
Welcome back. And thank you for
what you did for me."
"You're
welcome." Saldusta smiled then
fiddled with her earpiece as if embarrassed by the attention.
Chapel hit the comm. "Chapel to Farrell."
"Farrell here."
"Any sign that Kimble's
slowing down?"
"He hit the wall--not
literally--about ten minutes ago. I
imagine he'll be on his way in a couple of hours."
"Where is he now?"
"I sent him to the
showers. The wind stunk." Farrell laughed. "Doctor Carpenter is back on her feet. She has a team making the rounds now to
ensure nobody misses out on their shots."
"Good work."
"You too. It was like old times."
"It was. Chapel out."
"Sir," Saldusta
caught her attention. "Captain
Spock would like to see you in his ready room."
"Okay." She turned to Myrax as she walked toward
Spock's office. "Lieutenant, you
have the conn."
Christine smiled when she
walked into Spock's ready room and saw both Kerr and him waiting for her. "It's good to see you two back on your
feet."
Kerr grinned sheepishly. "Especially considering it was you that
knocked us out.'
"You didn't give me much
choice." She turned to Spock. "Either of you."
"We were under the
influence of the virus, Commander."
He didn't look as uncomfortable as she had expected. But then who knew what embarrassment he was
covering up with his Vulcan composure?
"Right," she said
with a small smile. She walked to his
desk and picked up the lacquer box she had brought back for him to inspect
after Redmoon had checked it for evidence and deconned it. "That damned virus. I bet you're sorry you brought this
back."
Spock looked at her
quizzically.
"From Vulcan." She saw his look. "You didn't bring it?"
"The box was waiting for
me when I returned to the ship."
"Then maybe it was left
for you, by one of the refit crew?"
She continued as she realized the error in that assumption, "But
there wasn't any refit crew. Not with
the emergency on the Caledonia taking all the available engineers and
techs. That's why Kettering was
working." She looked at Spock. "So there were no strangers on
board."
Kerr took the box from her
and studied it. "And those
crewmembers that went down to Vulcan were still there. Only the Captain returned."
"So if you didn't bring
it up from Vulcan, then somebody on board left it here." She sat down heavily.
"But the transporter's
sensors would have picked up the virus," Kerr said, putting the box back
on Spock's desk. "I thought they
were enhanced that way?"
"They are. If the virus is running live. But properly contained as it was, this
wouldn't trigger any alarms. We are a
medical ship; transporting a virus is well within mission norms."
"So it could have been
here for quite some time?"
She shook her head
slowly. "This container isn't
designed for long-term storage. I'd say
about twelve hours maximum."
"So it was created no
more than a day before I found it?" Spock asked.
Kerr looked at him. "Three members of our crew returned from
Starbase Six during that time."
"And two of them were
conveniently engaged in activities that protected them from the virus,"
Christine finished for him.
"Kettering and Farrell
weren't the only ones," Spock reminded her.
Kerr gave her a strange look
as he asked, "Redmoon could have made it in the lab without anyone really
guessing what he was up to, couldn't he, Christine?"
"He could have. But I can't see him doing that. I can't see any of them doing
that." She suddenly realized why
Kerr was in the room. "You two have
already discussed this, haven't you? I
can't believe any of them would do it.
They can't be your only suspects?"
"You're right,"
Spock said slowly. "They aren't our
only suspects." He stood up, took
several steps away from his desk.
"You were in the lab too when the virus was released. You are skilled enough to have modified the
virus. And you are the only one of the
four to have been in contact with it before."
She stared at him. "You can't be serious."
"We have to look at all
options." Kerr rose and walked
toward her. "Why were you in the
lab at that particular time, Christine?"
She saw that Spock was
approaching from the other side.
"Do you think I'm going to run?" she said incredulously. "This is asinine. Renata and I were in the lab because Leon
needed someone experienced in quarantine to help him with the containment
calibration. Kettering was doing refits
because of the Caledonia and to keep his mind off a test he's certain he
failed. We've all been working our asses
off for hours, with no sleep, fending off whacked out crewmembers--a group that
would include the two of you, you might want to remember. And now you think that one of us did it? You think that _I_ did it?"
Kerr's voice was contrite,
"I don't think it was you. But I
can't know that for sure."
"No, I suppose you
can't." She turned on Spock. "But you can." She stared hard at him. "Do you think I did it, Spock?"
"I do not. I would stake my life on it."
She started to relax, but he
continued. "Once I staked Jim's
life on my faith in someone in a similar situation. I was so sure that I knew Valeris, sure that
I could trust her. I found out that I
could be fooled. He was very nearly
killed. He and Doctor McCoy. But you know all this." He looked down, his voice clearly
pained. "I cannot be sure any other
way, Christine. I am sorry."
All the fight went out of
her. "Do it then."
"A light meld will not
accomplish what we need. I must see
all."
Christine remembered Uhura
telling her about Spock forcing the meld on Valeris and how the woman had cried
out, obviously in extreme pain. But
Valeris had been trying to hide the truth; Christine just wanted Spock to be
sure of her. "I won't fight
you," she said softly. "You
need to be certain. You both do."
Spock looked at Kerr. "Hold her, Colonel."
"She's cooperating. There's no need to--"
Spock cut him off. "Not to restrain her, to support
her...to make it easier for her."
Christine turned to Kerr and
held out her hand. "It's
okay."
He moved to stand behind her,
pressing himself against her back. His
warmth was comforting, made her feel safe as she leaned against him. His hands tightened on her arms, and she
heard him whisper, "I've got you."
Spock moved toward her. She looked up at him, trying to let him know
that she trusted him completely. She
felt Kerr press more tightly against her and she knew he was offering his
support even as Spock's fingers reached for her. Closing her eyes, she felt his mind questing
for entry. He won't hurt me, he won't
hurt me, he won't hurt me, she chanted to herself.
*I will not hurt you,* he
affirmed. His mind touch was gentle and loving. *I am sorry, my Christine.*
*Don't be. If there is a traitor on this ship, I want
you to be sure it's not me.*
*Yes.* He moved deeper into her mind. *Do not resist me.*
*I won't.*
Christine tried to give him
access to her thoughts and memories. His
mind touched her gently but relentlessly, and everywhere it stopped it left
nothing unknown. Her body ached, shaking
as she tried to stay on her feet. She
felt Kerr's arms snake around her waist as he shifted to better support
her. His voice was gentle, "It's
all right. I won't let you fall. Let go,
sweetheart."
She heard Spock's mind from a
great distance echoing, *Let go, my Christine,* as he pushed deeper.
With a moan of relief, she
let Kerr support her body as she quit trying to stand on her own. She moaned again, and felt his lips on the
back of her neck. "I've got
you," he whispered again, his breath warm against her neck.
She tried to relax every part
of her mind. *Nothing hidden,* she sent
to Spock.
*Nothing at all,* he soothed
as he returned to her. *It is not you.*
He must have spoken aloud as
well, because she heard Kerr echo, "It isn't you."
*I am sorry. I should have trusted you.* Spock's thoughts caressed her. *As you trusted me, just now.*
She suddenly felt a rush of
guilt coming from him, nearly overpowering her.
*Valeris,* she said.
*I hurt her.*
* She is in the past. I am now and you did not hurt me. You were so careful not to. Let go of the guilt, Spock.* She felt Kerr shift against her. *It is time for words, not thoughts.*
*Yes, my t'hy'la,* Spock said
as he gently pulled from her mind.
She allowed her head to fall
back against Kerr's chest, not even trying to stand on her own. He was strong enough to hold her.
"Are you all right?"
he asked with concern, his arm tightening under her breasts.
"I'm fine." Her eyes met Spock's and held for a few
moments.
He touched her cheek then
looked away, walking back to his desk to pick up the box. "It is one of the other
three."
"But which one?"
Christine asked as she finally forced herself to try to stand unsupported.
"I do not know."
"Chair," she said
to Kerr, and he stayed with her until she was safely seated. "I can't believe it's any of them."
Kerr sat down next to
her. "I think you have to believe
it. You're clear, so that leaves the
three of them."
"We just have to find
out how," Spock agreed.
"And why,"
Christine said softly.
---------------------------------
Christine hurried down the
corridor to the medical lab. Behind her
Spock and Kerr followed. "I've got
work to do, leave me alone," she said firmly.
They didn't stop following
her but they also didn't try to get in her way.
She saw Farrell standing in front of the lab. She was holding the phaser.
"Don't stun them unless
you have to," Christine called.
"Got it the first time,
Chris," Farrell laughed.
Suddenly Ritsuko stepped
around the corner. "Renata, stop
lying to me."
"Not now, Machi."
Ritsuko's voice rose a
level. "Stop lying to me. I saw the two of you. She gave you something, didn't she?"
Farrell calmly raised the
phaser and fired. "Shut up,
Umachi."
Ritsuko dropped heavily to
the floor.
Christine stopped. "Ren?" she asked uncertainly.
"It's just like old
times, isn't it," Farrell asked as she shot Ritsuko again and again.
"No!" Christine
yelled as she woke up with a start.
"Hey." Kerr eased her back to the bed. "That was some dream."
"Woke me up," she
mumbled.
He kissed her and pulled her
closer to him. "Woke me up
too. What was it about?"
"I have to go. I have to go talk to her." She pulled out of his arms and got out of
bed. She grabbed her uniform, trying to
get it on as she hopped with one leg in and one out.
He grinned and said, "Sweetheart, it's good that you're raring
to go, but have you looked at the time?"
She checked the chrono. She had only been asleep a few hours. "Crap."
He held out a hand. "Come back to bed."
She hung up her uniform, then
let him pull her back onto the bed.
"And do what?"
"Sleep." He ran his hands down her back. "That is what the bed is for."
"Well that and other
things."
He grinned. "And other things. But you're exhausted. Sleep is what you need."
She cuddled against him, and
realized he was right. She was beyond
exhausted. Sleep came quickly. When she awoke, Kerr had already gotten
up. "Morning," he said as he
came in with a cup of coffee for her.
"I have to meet Spock. And
you've got someone to meet if last night's behavior was any indication. You said her...her who?"
Christine suddenly remembered
the dream. She had to go talk to
Ritsuko. She looked at Kerr and
smiled. "Will you laugh if I tell
you that I think I might have dreamed something that I was supposed to
remember?"
He leaned down and kissed
her. "Nope. Dreams are powerful things. I listen to mine." He laughed.
"Well except for the one that says to dress up like an Orion slave
girl and dance the Charleston. I think
that's one that can be safely ignored."
She ruffled his hair. "You're a nut."
He kissed her again. "So you've told me. Have a good day."
"You too." She finished her coffee, before getting ready
and hurrying to find Ritsuko. The chef's
office was dark, but the catering kitchen looked busy. Several replicators were going, and Ritsuko
was taking a tray of something that smelled sinfully good out of an oven. The lieutenant smiled when she saw Christine
and held out a plate. "Try one,
Commander."
Christine popped it in her mouth
and the small morsel melted in an explosion of subtly delicious flavors. "Oh my god, that is good."
Ritsuko laughed as she held
the plate closer. "Have
another."
"Okay." Christine closed her eyes, trying to identify
the spices Ritsuko had used. "What
are these?"
"Andorian spice
worms," Ritsuko said.
Christine swallowed
hard. "You're kidding right?"
"No, really. They're a delicacy. I've wanted to try preparing them but they're
pretty involved. I didn't really have
the time before." She turned away,
but Christine didn't miss the shadow that crossed her face.
"Is everything all
right, Lieutenant?"
"No, Commander. But I don't think it would be appropriate to
talk about it." Ritsuko took
another tray out of the oven.
"I was in the corridor. I heard what you said to Commander
Farrell."
Ritsuko shrugged. "I wasn't making much sense. It was the virus."
"You're sure? Because if you're not, I'm here."
Ritsuko gave her a strange
look. "Begging your pardon, sir,
but you haven't been before. Why this
sudden interest in me?"
"That's not true. I'm interested."
"I didn't mean it was a
bad thing, Commander. We're in different
sections; normally we wouldn't interact much.
So if I was just your friend's girlfriend, that's okay."
"Was?"
Ritsuko sighed. "I really have to get back to work,
Commander Chapel. You'll excuse
me?"
Christine wanted to argue,
but the woman was right--Christine hadn't taken much interest in her other than
as the woman that her friend loved.
She left Ritsuko in peace,
and headed for the turbolift. Speeding
to the bridge and lost in thought, she nearly walked into someone waiting on
the other side when the doors opened.
"Sorry," she exclaimed, then saw who it was. "Oh, it's you."
Penhallon grinned and said
softly, "I missed you too."
She gestured toward her
office. "Could I see you for a
moment, Commander."
He was at his professional
best. "Of course, Commander
Chapel." But as soon as the doors
closed he said, "I guess I missed some excitement around here?"
She nodded. "That's an understatement. Could I ask you a favor?"
"If it's to be more
serious, I'm afraid I just can't do that.
Life is too short."
"No. A real favor." She leaned forward. "It's important."
His expression changed,
became more solemn. "Is something
wrong?"
"Yes. But I really can't go into the
details." As he started to argue,
she cut him off. "Not because it's
personal, Commander. I can't talk about
it because it has to do with finding who is responsible for what happened here
while you were gone."
"You have a
suspect?"
She nodded. "But I could be wrong. I want to be wrong, in fact."
"How can I help?"
She hesitated.
He leaned forward. "Christine, if I can help, I will. Just tell me what to do."
She didn't think she had ever
heard him so serious, and it was enough to make her ask, "You're friendly
with Lieutenant Ritsuko, right?'
He laughed. "One should always be friendly with a
chef of her talent."
"Something happened on
Starbase Six when she and Commander Farrell were on leave. I need to know what it was."
"Why don't you just ask
her?"
"I did. She clammed up."
He frowned. "Then how do you know something
happened?"
"When she was affected
by the virus, she said something that didn't really hit me until this
morning. But when I asked her about it,
she wouldn't discuss it, acted like it was nothing. Yet she and Renata don't seem to be talking,
so I know something happened."
"So am I trying to find
something out about Commander Farrell?"
"Yes," Christine
said, refusing to be more specific when she realized he was waiting for more
details.
"Very well, I'll find
out what I can. This isn't a dangerous
situation, is it? Because you'll really
owe me if it is."
She shook her head. "I wouldn't ask you if it were."
He gave her a strange
look. "For you, I might brave the
fierce dragon."
"Oh sure, provided the
damsel in distress didn't distract you.
Or her maid. Or her maid's
grandmother." She rolled her eyes. "Some champion."
"You know me too
well," he agreed.
"There's no danger,
Penhallon, just some information that I need."
He laughed. "Then I'll bring it back for
you." He rose. "And you didn't ask, but yes, the temple
of T'Lyar is still standing."
She grinned. "But will the priestesses ever
recover?"
"A gentleman never
tells."
She waved him away. Once he was gone, she sat back and considered
the absurdity of what she was doing.
Renata Farrell was her friend.
Christine wasn't sure she could have fought the virus without her and
she didn't want to believe that Farrell could be in any way responsible for the
outbreak. But some inner bell was
pealing inside her, telling her that her friend was involved in this.
She tried to work, but found
herself increasingly distracted. Giving
up on her padds, she went out to the bridge and sat the conn. It took her a few minutes to realize that
Kimble and Sabuti were both studiously avoiding interacting with her or anyone
else.
"We've had a couple of
strange days, haven't we?" she asked no one in particular.
She heard Saldusta and Myrax
agree with her.
"I remember the first
time we ran into this virus. In fact,
I'll never forget it." She noticed
Kimble and Sabuti perking up a bit.
"What happened, sir?''
Myrax asked in her normal soft tones.
"I humiliated
myself. I mean completely. Felt like I couldn't show my face for
days. I thought I was the only one that
had made an idiot of myself. But I
wasn't, of course."
"So it got better?"
Sabuti asked.
"Oh, yes. In time." Years, she thought ruefully. But you don't need to know that part. Before she could say more, the lift doors
opened and Penhallon came out. He nodded
at her office door and she rose.
"Lieutenant Sabuti, you have the conn."
As soon as the doors of her office
closed behind them, she asked, "Well?"
"Ritsuko is convinced
Commander Farrell is cheating on her."
"I know that. Why?"
She couldn't sleep one night
and noticed that Farrell wasn't in the room.
She was worried so she went to find her.
And did. In the lounge with
another woman."
Christine frowned. "Maybe she just couldn't sleep and was
talking to a friendly stranger?"
"That's what Ritsuko
thought at first. So she stayed hidden
to see if she was overreacting. That was
when she saw the other woman give something to Commander Farrell."
"What was it?"
"She said it was a red
box that both women seemed to find very amusing. She didn't get close enough to really see
what was inside it, or even if they opened it."
I know what was inside it,
Christine thought, feeling her stomach lurch, and I can guarantee they didn't
open it. She hadn't wanted to be
right. Had wanted this to be a wild
goose chase. But it wasn't. Her friend had brought the virus on board and
had left it for Spock to open.
"Commander?"
She looked at Penhallon. "Thank you. That's what I needed to know."
"You were fine until I
mentioned the box. I take it that it's
significant?"
She nodded.
"Then I'm sorry. I know Commander Farrell is your
friend."
She felt his hand on her
shoulder. A light touch, surprisingly
comforting. "Thanks. I don't have to ask you to keep this
quiet?"
"I will be the very soul
of discretion." His expression was
more solemn than his words.
"Thank you for your
help."
"You only ever need ask." He gave her an encouraging smile and then
left.
Christine sat for several
minutes before reaching over to hit her comm button. "Chapel to Kerr."
"Kerr here."
"Can you meet me in the
captain's ready room?"
"Sure. I'll be right up."
She got up slowly, creeping
reluctance crawling over her as she walked to the rear door. She didn't want to do this. There was still time to let the investigation
unfold naturally. She didn't need to
point them in Ren's direction.
She kept moving. As she left her office, Kerr arrived on the
lift. He took one look at her face and
said, "What's wrong?"
She just shook her head and
walked to Spock's office. She rang the
chime and heard him give permission to enter.
She didn't wait for him to
ask her what they wanted, just blurted out, "I know who it is."
Both men seemed to understand
at once what she was referring to. They
watched her, waiting for her to continue.
She took a deep breath and
said, "It's Commander Farrell."
"How do you know
this?" Spock gestured for her and
Kerr to sit down.
"It was something
Lieutenant Ritsuko said when she was under the influence of the virus. About something that happened on Starbase
Six. I had forgotten all about it, but then
I had this dream..." she trailed off sheepishly. "Anyway, I found out that Renata brought
a lacquer box back with her, one that a stranger had given her."
"Then I think we know
where to start our investigation."
Spock looked at her sympathetically.
"I am sorry. I know she is
your friend."
Christine nodded. "One of my best."
Kerr sat silently, seemingly
lost in thought. She turned to him,
"What is it?"
He shook his head. "Just trying to figure out
why." His eyes were hooded when he
looked up at her, then turned to Spock.
"How do you want to play this?"
"I think that is up to
Christine." Spock turned to
her. "You know her best."
"Call her in now,"
she said finally. "Ask her about
the box."
"And if she comes up
with a perfectly reasonable explanation?" Kerr asked.
"The meld should make a
handy threat," Christine said firmly.
Spock looked
uncomfortable. "I could do it with
you because you were willing. To force
it on her..."
"I know that you don't
want to do it, Spock. But she
doesn't. Just try to look ominous or
something."
Kerr grinned.
Spock nodded. "Very well." He hit the comm button. "Lieutenant Saldusta, please ask
Commander Farrell to come to my ready room."
They only had to wait a few
minutes. Farrell entered the room and
looked at the three of them with composure and a perfectly controlled
"Sirs?" Christine had to
admire her nerve.
Spock did not invite her to
sit. "You were quite instrumental
in battling the Psi 2000 virus, Commander, were you not?"
"I did my part,
sir."
"More than your part,
I'd say." Spock leaned back and
gave Farrell a look full of Vulcan disapproval.
She looked confused. "I don't understand, sir."
"Why did you do it,
Ren?" Christine shook her
head. "That's what I can't figure
out."
Farrell frowned deeply. "I'm sorry, sirs. But I don't know what you are talking
about."
Kerr chimed in. "A red lacquer box. About this big." He held up his hands. "With enough virus loaded in it to knock
out the entire ship."
Farrell looked at Christine,
betrayal in her eyes. "You think
I..."
"It's why you stunned
Ritsuko. When she was going on about
what she thought she saw on Starbase Six.
We know all about it."
Farrell shook her head. "You have no evidence."
Spock stood slowly. "The evidence is in your mind,
Commander. And I am capable of finding
it."
Farrell looked panicked.
Christine stood up and walked
to her friend's side. "Ren, we just
need to know what happened. And
why?"
Farrell stared at them. Christine forced her expression to be hard,
unyielding. She knew Kerr and Spock were
giving Farrell the same look.
Finally, defiance seeming to
fall off her, Farrell said softly, "I told them you'd figure it out."
"Told whom?" Spock asked,
indicating she should sit in the seat Christine had vacated.
Farrell slumped, her posture
defeated. "The people who made me
do this."
"What people?" Kerr
asked sharply.
Farrell didn't look at
him. "Some people I've worked for
in the past. I mean in the course of my
duties."
Christine was horrified. "You mean Starfleet people?"
Farrell nodded. "A section you haven't run into, very
few ever do."
Kerr looked at her sharply as
Spock said, "We need more than
that."
"I can't give you any more
than that. They said they wanted to test
the Carter's ability to handle an emergency."
"And you believed
that?" Kerr pushed.
Farrell shrugged and said
brokenly. "It's not like I had a
choice. They're very hard people to say
no to. I tried once in the
past." Her eyes were haunted. "I learned my lesson." She turned to Christine. "I didn't know it would be as bad as it
was. They said it wouldn't hurt
anyone. That it was just a test."
Christine walked over. "Well it wasn't just a test, and it did
hurt people. Fortunately not fatally,
but it could have." She put her
hand on Farrell's shoulder to soften her words.
"They're going to pay for this.
When we get done with our report they'll wish they'd never heard of the
Carter."
"No!" Farrell said
fiercely, clutching Christine's hand.
"Don't do that."
"Why not?" Kerr
asked suspiciously.
Farrell looked down. "It's too dangerous."
"For you," Kerr
sounded as if that thought didn't really bother him.
She shook her head. "For Chris." She looked pleadingly at Christine. "They knew you worked on the virus, had
developed the quick antiviral. And you
did have the emergency program ready for it."
Christine looked down at her
in outrage. "You mean they'd try to
make it look like I did it?"
Farrell nodded. "Only not try. If they want you to look guilty, you
will. There's no try with these
people."
Christine looked over at
Spock and Kerr. They had suspected her
enough to need the meld, and they knew her...loved her. How would it look to a more objective
observer if evidence really were produced?
"So what are we supposed
to do?" Kerr was very angry.
"Nothing. Just let it die. If anyone asks, it was the act of someone who
didn't like the Federation. The people
behind this will take care of any questions back at Headquarters."
"Just do
nothing?" Spock repeated.
Farrell nodded.
Spock shook his head. "I'm afraid, Commander Farrell, that you
are not in the position to tell us what to do.
In fact, I would say your position on this ship at all is
tenuous." He turned to Kerr. "We will need a discreet inquiry into
this. I have no doubt you are up to that
challenge."
"Yes, sir."
"But Chris..."
"I have no intention of
putting Commander Chapel at risk," Spock said sternly. "But I also do not intend to accept your
story at face value."
She looked down. "I understand, Captain. I guess in your position..." She took a deep breath. "I'm so sorry, sir. I should have told you...or Commander
Chapel." She looked up at
Christine, tears in her eyes. "I
didn't want to hurt you, you know that?"
"I believe you. But you very nearly did." Christine took the hand that was
offered. "Ren, who are these
people?"
"No one you'd want to
know."
"We'll be the judge of
that," Kerr said harshly.
"Yes, sir," Farrell
said, not meeting his eyes.
--------------------------------------------
Ringing Farrell's chime a
second time, Kerr attempted to control the anger he felt, trying to channel it
into something useful. Finally, he heard
her voice say dully, "Come," and the door opened.
She sat at her desk looking
up at him, her face a study in contrition.
But, when she saw that he had come alone, her expression turned
mocking. "Randy, come in."
"You know I hate that
name."
She stood, and walked toward
him, her swagger making her seem much taller.
"I know you do. It's what
makes it fun." She laughed mockingly. Her eyes were hard. "Frankly, I would have figured you for
getting here a lot sooner. But maybe you
stopped for a quick roll in the hay--or was it grass--with Chris, huh?"
Grabbing her by the collar of
her uniform, he shoved her up hard against the wall. "How could you do it?"
"Oh come on, Kerr. It's my job." She leaned into his hand to take the pressure
off her windpipe, and said, "Don't you really mean, how come they didn't
tell you about it?"
He let go of her
quickly. "I don't work for them
anymore."
"You'll always work for
them, Randy. But hey, if you want to
think that you've gone all soldier boy again, that's fine. At least one of us remembers the real reason
we're here." Rubbing her neck with
a grimace, she walked back to her desk and sat down. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I have a report to file."
"I'm sure they'll be
thrilled to hear the test was such a success.
What are they going to do with the virus?"
"How the hell should I
know?" She stood up. "You're going soft here, you know
that. Have you forgotten that we have a
job to do?"
"I know what my job here
is. It's to be chief of security and special
forces."
She snorted, the sound
conveying both amusement and disgust.
"You just keep telling yourself that."
She went back to her padd as
if he wasn't there. Kerr felt his anger
dying, replaced by an unfamiliar feeling of panic. The missions, the work he'd helped Farrell
and others like her do in the past, had always been a game. But now he had something else, something he
cared about and wanted to keep safe. His
voice was barely audible as he said, "How the hell am I supposed to
investigate this?"
She didn't look up as she
said, "I have no idea. But you
better come up with a compelling reason to keep me on this ship. Because our superiors are not going to be
happy to find out I was put off at the nearest Starbase. In fact, my future may well be non-existent
if you don't find a way to keep me here."
"You say that like it's
a bad thing." He didn't laugh,
neither did she. "I don't want you
here, Ren."
She laughed spitefully,
looking up at him with a cruel smile.
"Oh, but you better want me here."
"I'm having trouble
seeing why?"
"Because if I get thrown
off this ship, your little romance with Christine is history." Her smile faded and a deadly seriousness
replaced it. "I'll tell her how I
helped you get her, how I coached you on what exactly would win her heart. How forgiving do you think she'll be when she
finds out that you're not the man she thinks you are? How willing do you think she'll be to
overlook betrayal?"
Somehow her threat didn't
surprise him. "She's supposed to be
your friend. Did you ever really love
her?"
"She _is_ my friend,
Randy. Why do you think she was in that
lab with me and not out where the virus could get her?"
"So that you'd have
someone to take the fall if Spock decided to push this."
She shook her head. "Redmoon would have worked just as
well. The captain wouldn't ruin an
innocent man's career. Just as I
wouldn't make Chris experience that humiliation again if I could prevent
it."
Farrell stood and walked over
to him, her hands coming up to rest on his chest as she looked up at him
earnestly. "She's one of my oldest
friends. I want to protect her. I thought giving her to you would be one way
of doing that. But if you get in the way
of our mission, I'll take her away from you so fast it will make that handsome
if somewhat naive head of yours spin."
Her expression turned hard.
"You got that, Colonel?"
"This won't work,
Ren. The Carter isn't the platform we
thought it would be. It's so much more
than that. Its mission...to help people,
it's a good one. One I want to be a part
of. One you should too. I've watched Spock, he's--"
Her mocking laughter cut him
off. "God, he's gotten to you
too. What is it about that Vulcan that
draws you people in?" She shook her
head. "You go play the do-gooder if
that's what you want. Just stay out of
my way. And find a way to keep me
here." She turned away. "Or you'll lose her forever."
He grabbed her arm and yanked
her back to face him. "If I think you're
planning something like this again, 'Lieutenant' Commander--"
"Let me guess. You'll kill me?" She looked up at him, assessing him. Finally
she grinned. "Do you think I didn't
know that you'd be a problem eventually?
And if I hadn't, reading your little 'I quit' memo to the section would
have been enough to clue me in. I've
already taken steps to make sure that if anything happens to me, Chris will be
getting some very interesting information about you?"
"I'll take that
risk."
"Then isn't this going
to be fun?" She deliberately licked
her lips in anticipation as her smile grew.
He thrust her away from
him. "I mean it, Ren. Lie low.
Or I'll make sure you do."
She chuckled meanly as she
strolled back to her desk. "You can
try. And while you're at it, try to use
that brain of yours to come up with a reason that will convince the captain I
didn't have a choice. I need to be on
this ship."
"He's never going to let
you stay."
"For your sake, I hope
you're wrong." Her voice was as
mocking as he'd ever heard it. "You
have no idea what you're up against, Kerr."
He walked to the door. "Neither do you, Farrell. I guess we're both going to find out."
------------**--------------------
Farrell finished her report
and tried to access the channel that she used to send information to her
superiors. The panel said, 'Access
Denied.'
She smiled. "Interesting. And so, it begins," she whispered as she
tried the backup channel. Kerr had
closed that down too. She encrypted her
report and saved it in an inconspicuous location. "We'll see who wins this little
game."
She hit the comm switch. "Farrell to Ritsuko."
There was no answer. She sighed.
Umachi was dragging this fight out far too long.
Deciding she'd worry about
that later, Farrell considered calling Christine. Knowing Kerr, he had her safely sequestered
in his cabin. Tomorrow would be soon
enough, Farrell decided. Yes, it was
definitely time to break up this little romance. Planning how to do it occupied her until she
drifted into sleep.
The next morning she was
surprised to see the ship crawling with strangers. She ran into
She laughed. "I take it the emergency on the
He nodded. "And I'm happy to give the job back to
them. Working in a respirator gets
old."
"Tell me about it. But I thought you were trying to kill time
until you got your test results."
He couldn't hide his grin.
"You passed! See, I told you that you'd have nothing to
worry about."
"You did,
Commander. I wish I had as much faith in
me as you do."
She grinned. "That's terrific. Congratulations."
"Thanks." He was beaming as he took his tray back to
engineering. Farrell decided to follow
suit. On her way back to her office, she
saw Ritsuko coming down the corridor toward her. The other woman seemed to hesitate, as if she
was going to turn and walk back the way she'd come. Farrell called out gently, "Machi,
don't."
At the sound of her nickname,
Ritsuko turned back. "Why not,
Renata?"
"Because you don't need
to run away from me."
Ritsuko walked slowly to
her. "I'm not the one
running."
Farrell realized with a start
that Umachi had no idea of her role in the virus outbreak. She'd have to tell her. Eventually.
"It's not what you thought."
"Isn't it? You didn't sneak out to meet someone
else?"
"It was business."
Ritsuko rolled her eyes.
"I mean it. And you have a right to be mad, but not for
the reason you think. I'll tell you
about it, I promise. But not here."
Ritsuko's eyes were sadder
than Farrell had ever seen them.
"Renata, don't make this harder than it already is, okay?"
"Just give me another
chance?"
Ritsuko looked away.
"Machi, please?"
"Maybe. But not now, okay. I just need a little time."
Maybe was better than
nothing, Farrell thought. "As much
as you need. You know where to find
me." She started to walk away.
Ritsuko's voice stopped
her. "I miss you, Renata."
She turned. "I miss you too."
They stared at each other for
a long moment, then Ritsuko turned away.
Farrell returned to her office with a much lighter heart. Official reports on the virus outbreak took
her the rest of the day. She decided to
grab dinner in the mess hall before turning in.
The addition of the refit
crews made the mess more crowded than it normally was for dinner at this
hour. Farrell saw Kerr sitting by
himself at a table in the back. Walking
over to join him, she said sarcastically, "Is this seat taken?"
"Yes."
"Thought so," she
said, as she sat down.
"What part of don't sit
here, don't you get?"
"You didn't say that,
Colonel," she said with a malicious grin.
"It would look odd if I suddenly got up, wouldn't it?"
"I'm expecting
Christine."
"Well, perfect then,
because I have so much to tell her."
"Don't threaten
me."
"Who's threatening? Unlock my damn accesses or I'll tell her
everything the next time I see her."
He glared at her, which just made her laugh. "You're not cut out for this game
anymore, Randy. You don't have the
balls."
Kerr leaned forward angrily,
then his expression went carefully neutral and he smiled at someone behind
Farrell. "Nako." He nodded.
Nako walked up and stood by
the side of their table.
"Randall." She turned
to Farrell. "Granddaughter, you've
been up to a great deal of mischief."
Farrell was smiling for
anyone watching, but her tone was deadly.
"That is none of your business, Ambassador."
"Isn't it,
granddaughter?"
"It's really not. And I'm not your damn granddaughter."
Kerr started to say something
but Nako stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "No, Commander Farrell, you are not my
granddaughter." She squeezed Kerr's
shoulder. "An interesting choice of
dinner companions, Randall," she said as she walked to another table.
"What a charmer,"
Farrell said with a shudder.
"I actually think
so. Most people do. Maybe there's something wrong with you,
Ren?"
She ignored him. "I have reports to file. Reinstate those accesses."
"Give me back the files
you erased."
She laughed. "And I did it right in front of you and
Christine. That was the best part."
"If I hadn't been
suffering from your dammed virus..."
"You just keep telling
yourself that. Easier than thinking that
maybe you just aren't that bright."
"Ren, why are you doing
this?"
"Because I want to. Because I like to. Because I can," she finished with a
smirk.
You're playing a dangerous
game," he said softly.
"At least I'm
playing." She leaned forward. "You're going to lose her."
He didn't answer.
"You don't have the guts
for this game, Randy. Reinstate those
channels or I'll tell Christine everything."
"That's a chance I'll
have to take." With a hard stare,
he rose and said, "I've lost my appetite." He hurried out of the mess.
Farrell saw Nako get up and
walk toward her. As she passed Farrell
she said sadly, "Things are only going to get worse."
That, Farrell thought, is one
creepy old woman. For the life of her,
she couldn't see what everyone saw in her.
She finished her dinner quickly, then rose and, ignoring admiring
glances from some of the refit crew, dumped her tray into the recycler. It was time, she decided as she hurried down
the corridor, to make Randall Kerr pay.
To hell with her accesses. He was
actually going to stay the course and not reinstate them. And he wasn't going to help her retain her
position on the Carter either from the look of it. So be it.
If she was going to fall, she wasn't going alone. And she was going to enjoy watching his world
collapse. She went straight to
Christine's quarters, but her friend wasn't there. She would call Christine from her own
quarters then.
As she palmed open the door and
stepped into her room, the lights went off.
She sensed movement behind her, and heard a harsh voice saying,
"It's not a game anymore."
Then something sharp tore into her flesh.
She screamed and flailed but
the blade came down again relentlessly. It
was too dark to see who was attacking her, but she kicked out desperately. She hit nothing, and the knife again stabbed
into her chest. She fell to the floor,
hearing the footsteps of her attacker receding.
Trying not to panic, she said, "Computer." Her voice was barely a whisper and the
computer did not respond. Spitting blood
out of her mouth she tried again.
"Computer."
"Yes, Commander
Farrell?"
"Medical
emergency," she said as she fell back with a groan.
She could barely hear the
doctors as they ran through her doors a few minutes later.
"Fix those damn
lights," someone said, and she thought she recognized Carpenter as the
lights came back on. She wasn't sure;
everything was becoming blurry and dim.
"Chris," she tried
to say. She made no sound.
But it was enough. "Carpenter to Chapel. Emergency in Commander Farrell's
quarters. Get here stat."
Chris, Farrell thought. Come quick.
So much to tell you. She didn't
have long to wait.
"Oh my god,"
Christine's voice was close to her ear.
"Ren?"
Farrell could just make out
her friend's face for a second, then she couldn't see anything at all. "I'm sorry, Chris."
"Shhh. Just let us work."
"Who did this to
you," said a new voice.
She recognized it as Kerr and
started to panic.
"Shhh, hold still,"
Christine soothed.
As it all went black, Farrell
managed to whisper, "It's not a game anymore."
--------------------
"Ren, stay with
us," Christine said as she turned desperately to Carpenter.
"She's gone,
Christine." She gently took the
instrument from Christine's hand.
"Whoever did this knew exactly where to strike."
Christine could barely see
through her tears. Between sobs, she
gasped, "They did this...those bastards...I don't care what they
fabricate--"
Her words were cut off as
Kerr jerked her to him. She felt his
arms envelope her and he said loudly, "Christine, shhh." In a softer voice he said, "It's
dangerous to talk about this."
"I don't care," she
whispered.
He pulled her away from
Farrell's body. "I do." He led her out of the room and to Spock's
quarters.
Spock answered the chime
immediately; he took one look at them and let them in. She tried to tell him what had happened, but
she wasn't making any sense.
Kerr pushed her into Spock's
arms. "Farrell's been
murdered. I have to go back and seal the
area before it's completely compromised."
He saw Spock's tricorder on his desk.
"Sir, if I may?" Spock nodded and Kerr scanned Christine's
hands. She hadn't realized they were
covered in Renata's blood. Kerr finished
the scan and looped the tricorder strap over his shoulder. "Take care of her?" It was barely a question.
Spock nodded and led her to
the bathroom as Kerr hurried back out.
"I'm sorry," he said as he supported her while she washed her
hands.
"She didn't deserve
this." Christine said, watching the
bloody water drain from the sink.
"There was so much blood, Spock.
Whoever did it wanted to make sure she didn't survive."
"We will get to the
bottom of this," he promised her as he dried her hands.
His gentleness undid
her. She began to cry again. "Ren," she said brokenly as he
pulled her into his arms and held her tightly while she wept.
"I am sorry,
Christine," he repeated as he rocked her back and forth. "I am sorry."
Kerr came back in and stood
at the door. She turned her head so she
could see him. "They did this,
Randall. You know they did."
"It's possible. The refit crews have been rotating all
day. One of them could have had more on
the agenda than just maintenance."
Spock nudged her gently and
she let him pull her out of the bathroom.
As they passed Kerr, Spock gently pushed her back into the other man's
arms and said, "What I don't understand is why they would kill their own
asset?"
"She was compromised, sir,"
Kerr said firmly.
"But that is exactly
what I have been trying to reconcile. I
would think Commander Farrell was more useful than not. But this task they gave her could only lead
to her being revealed as the perpetrator.
It is not logical."
Christine sat up. "She was surprised...when
Kerr nodded. "The refit crew would have provided the
cover she needed. If there had been
strangers on board, we would never have been able to prove it was her."
"And she would still be
here. Waiting for their next task,"
Christine said bitterly. "Oh, Ren,
why didn't you just tell me?" She
looked up at Kerr. "Did you find
anything?"
He shook his head.
"Damn."
"I'll keep
looking," he promised. "But we
may never solve this. If they're as good
as she said they were."
Spock said gently, "She
needs rest. Why don't you take her back to her quarters?"
"Good idea," Kerr
answered as he rose and helped her up.
She let him lead her out of
the room and down the corridor to her own quarters. "It was just like old times,
Randall. Working with her on this. It was fun." She sobbed louder. "I loved her."
He kissed the tears from her
cheeks. "I know you did,
sweetheart. And she loved you."
"It's not fair. She didn't ask for this." His arms tightened around her but he didn't
say anything. "She was my best
friend."
"I know." He pulled her to the bedroom. "Come on, let's lie down for a little
while."
"I'll have to call her
father." She looked up at him with
a stricken look, "I don't remember his name, Randall. How can I call him and tell him his daughter
is dead when I don't even remember his name?"
"Shhh, sweetheart,
shhh. It'll be in the database. We'll find it together later."
"Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you,
Randall. I love you so much." She lay down and felt him join her, his chest
pressing to her back as he wrapped her in his arms and let her cry.
His voice sounded strangely
sad as he replied, "You never have to do without me, Christine. Never."
-----------------------------------------------
Kerr listened to Christine
breathe, waiting for the lingering sob to go away. When it finally did, he closed his eyes,
hoping that sleep would come for him too.
It didn't.
Hours later he was still
awake. He considered getting out of bed,
but this might be his last time in Christine's bed, he reasoned, as his arms
tightened reflexively around her at the thought. He didn't doubt that Farrell had prepared the
information she'd said and that it was already on its way to Christine. It was only a matter of time before she read
it, before he lost her forever. He knew
from experience that Farrell was good with a story. Whatever she told Christine would seem
completely credible to her. And would be
completely damning for him.
I'll fight for her, he
thought. But what good was fighting if
Christine didn't trust him anymore?
She moaned and moved away
from him. He let her go and turned over,
staring into the dark and imagining what it would be like to see her every day
and not be able to touch her.
His communicator buzzed
quietly. He eased out of bed and took it
into the other room. "Kerr."
"It's Nako. I need to talk to you."
"Is something
wrong?"
There was a long
silence. Then she repeated, "I need
to talk to you."
"Can't it wait till
morning?"
In an eerie echo of Farrell's
last words, she said, "It's not a game anymore."
He was suddenly alert. "What?"
"Just come to my
quarters." The communicator went
dead.
He dressed and hurried down
the corridor and around the corner to her quarters. She was waiting for him in the doorway,
stepping away to allow him access.
The light in the room was dim
and there was a smell of some potent incense.
He sneezed at the overpowering odor.
She smiled at his
reaction. "Sit. I have a story to tell you, grandson."
"How about just telling
me what you know," he countered.
"Sit."
He cautiously sat down at her
table, while she took the seat opposite him.
Slowly, she reached over and took his hand in both of hers. Turning it first one way and then another,
she murmured, "It should show, shouldn't it?"
He tried to pull his hand
away but she held fast, seemingly without effort.
"The killing should
show. There should be a sign, don't you
think? A warning that here is a man who
will kill to protect what he loves."
He frowned. "Is this what you wanted to tell
me?"
She let go of his hand. "Have you ever seen a wildfire,
Randall?"
He shook his head.
"I saw one once, watched
the firefighters try to battle it. You
can see it coming all orange flame and dark, gritty smoke. And you can hear a soft crackling noise that
gets louder and louder as the fire comes roaring at you. It destroys everything in its path. And once it's on you, you can't even see
what's happening...can only run." She paused and looked up at him. "Unless you know how to fight the
fire. Then there are things you can
do."
"What kind of
things?" he said, when she paused.
"You can't beat the
fire. But you can divert it by making a
firebreak. Scorch the earth yourself;
denying the fire a route to travel by taking away its fuel. It's called a controlled burn."
"To protect the things
you love?"
She nodded. "Or the way of life that you have grown
accustomed to. Or even to protect the
future." Her wise brown eyes were
as serene as he had ever seen them.
"It's not a game
anymore," he said.
She nodded. "Not when the wildfire comes. Some things must be destroyed so others may
live."
"_You _killed her? We thought they did. When they knew she was compromised."
"And that is what Spock
and Christine must continue to think."
She laid her hand next to his on the table, then turned it palm up. "It never shows, does it,
Randall?"
"No. It doesn't." He knew from experience.
"She would have
destroyed you. She would have made it
impossible for you to continue to serve here."
He looked down. "But it was for nothing, Nako. She's already done that. She sent information to Christine. Damning information. "
"Yes, the information
was very damaging." At his look of
surprise, she smiled. "Unfortunately
or fortunately, depending on your perspective, it somehow ended up coming to
me, not to Christine. And I'm afraid
that I erased it accidentally before I could forward it to her. It is gone."
"Why?"
"Because you are needed,
grandson. Needed here...with my other
children." She leaned back in the
chair.
He fell silent. "But if you can do all this, why not
just stop it in the first place? Why
even let her release the virus?"
"When it is the Time, I
think and I see what is to come but I cannot stop what will be. I can only think of ways to make the impact
less disastrous." She sighed. "And my sight is imperfect. I do not see all. Part of the board is always
obscured." She fell silent, seemed
to drift as he waited for her to continue.
"Nako," he finally
prompted.
She focused on him
again. "Commander Farrell thought
it was all a game but she failed to understand her true role. A friend of mine once said that God does not
play dice with the universe and this may be true but She most assuredly does
play chess."
Kerr saw where she was
going. "And Farrell was a
pawn?"
"Yes."
"Is that what I am
too? Just another pawn?"
"Is that what you think
you are?"
Wanting to believe his role
was more enduring, he shook his head.
She smiled gently. "You know what you are. You're a knight."
"Here to protect my
queen?" he asked thinking of Christine.
Nako chuckled. "The queen is not defenseless. And she has protectors of her own." She ignored his frown. "You are here to protect the king,
Randall Kerr. To keep him alive so that
he can meet his destiny."
"What is his
destiny?"
"I'm not sure
yet." She smiled. "But I believe in it, nonetheless."
"Enough to kill for
it?"
"It's not the first
time." She sighed and her eyes seemed
suddenly ancient. "It will probably
not be the last."
Kerr considered what she had
said and done. "I can convince the
people here that Farrell was murdered by those she worked for, but her
handlers--" he broke off when he saw Nako gently shake her head, with a
sheepish look he corrected himself "--our handlers will know they are not
the killers. They will send someone to
find out what happened."
"Perhaps not," she
said as she laid her hand tightly on his.
He could feel something forming between their palms. When she pulled her hand away, a matte black
disk on a silken cord lay in his hand.
The disk was inscribed with a design of wings over a Romulan dagger. Recognizing it, Kerr let it dangle from his
fingers. "This is the symbol of the
Tal shiar."
"Send it to your
superiors and say in your report that you found it clasped in her hand. Make it clear that what you share with them,
you have hidden from the Carter crew.
The ones you worked for must trust you again, because only if they do
will you be able to keep them far enough away to allow you to play the role you
are meant to."
"To protect the
king," he repeated.
"And love the
queen," she said as she reached out to touch the thin disk. "It is of a material mined only on
"Why do all this?"
was the only thing he could think to ask.
"Because there is
another wildfire coming. Much bigger and
much more lethal than the first. And we
need to get those who would otherwise be your enemies focused off of you and
onto it."
She stood up, seeming to loom
over him and he pulled back in alarm.
"Don't be afraid, Randall," she said, her voice more resonant
than he'd ever heard it. "Nothing
is lost." She leaned up and kissed
his forehead. "Now go back to
her. Love her."
He knew he should worry about
what she'd told him, even be afraid of her.
But all he could feel was the tingling place that she had kissed and how
the sensation was taking over his whole body.
She was a killer, his mind said.
And his soul answered back that it didn't care.
-------------------------------
The noise of the wake was
overpowering. Farrell had detested
funerals--she'd left instructions in the Starfleet survivors form that she
wanted a party not a service, and that's what the crew of the Carter had thrown
her. Christine wandered away from the
main part of the reception room, tired of talking and listening. She found a viewscreen that was clear and
planted herself there, looking out at the stars. She took a sip of her drink and realized it
was empty. Damn, she thought, not
relishing the walk back to the bar.
"Here," another
glass appeared. "You look like you
need a refill."
"Why are you always
around when I need something?" she asked as she turned to take the drink.
Penhallon shrugged and
grinned. "Just lucky I
guess." He took a sip of his own
drink and nodded at several crewmembers that walked past, then he said quietly,
"What are we supposed to think of all this? A virus let loose then a vicious murder on
our quiet little ship? The crew is more
than a little confused...and scared."
Christine sighed and turned
back to the viewscreen.
He didn't press, just
continued to stare into the crowd.
Finally she asked, "Do
they know she set loose the virus?"
"No. There was some speculation but it's died
down." He chuckled. "I'm getting rather good at defusing
incendiary rumors."
"You are, aren't
you?" She glanced at him and smiled
a bit sheepishly. "I've studiously
avoided getting to know you, Commander."
"Stephen," he
corrected gently. "And yes, I
know."
"Stephen...I'm sorry I
was harsh when this mission started."
He shrugged. She watched his expression and wondered what
he was thinking about that caused the shadow to cross his face.
He realized she was studying
him and raised his eyebrows.
"What?"
"What were you thinking
of just then?"
"Nothing."
"Please?" she asked
softly.
His eyes held hers, as he
seemed to assess her request. Finally he
took a long sip of his drink and said, "I was thinking of my
childhood."
She waited for him to go on.
He chuckled. "You don't mean you want to hear about
it?"
She nodded. "Was it bad?"
"Bad? No.
Hard? Yes. My parents were diplomats. We moved every two years if not sooner. And even though I was a good-looking
kid--" he shot her a grin "--I was really shy. It was hard to pick up and move, knowing that
I'd be friendless again." He
frowned slightly, obviously reliving less than happy memories. "After a while, I decided that I
couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't sit
there in some new lunchroom all alone wondering if someone would sit with
me."
"So you quit going with
them when they moved?"
"Now, why didn't I think
of that?" He laughed and shook his
head. "No, I came up with a
strategy for being accepted. I'd observe
the social hierarchy at the school, and decide where I wanted to be. Then I'd find a girl in that group that was
lacking a certain all important adolescent female accessory."
"A boyfriend," she
guessed. "So it is
calculated."
"Well, it was then. I didn't even like half the girls I ended up
with. But they got me accepted and gave
me a place to belong." He
smiled. "But after a while, I found
that I began to choose the girls a little differently. I started going after the ones I really found
attractive, not the ones that were in the best place to help me. Over time I became a connoisseur of
sorts."
"Well, that's one word
for it," she said teasingly.
"Now, now. Not when we're doing so well." He grinned.
"I think this is our first non-crisis conversation." He sobered. "Not that a funeral is
exactly a non-crisis."
"I know what you
mean," she said as she turned and followed his gaze. He was watching Ritsuko. "I'm worried about her. But there isn't much I can do for her. As she pointed out, I haven't made much of an
effort to get to know her."
"Why would you
have? She's in a different section. Your paths don't cross much. I'm sure, for example, that you've gotten to
know the bridge crew much better."
"I'm not so sure,"
she said, as she picked out Kimble and Sabuti in the crowd. "I've been a little distracted."
He smirked.
"Now, now, not when
we're doing so well," she echoed his words. "I think I could do better with
them."
"For what it's worth,
they like you a lot."
"And of course you'd
know that. Do you know everyone on this
ship?"
He nodded. "Another survival mechanism, I
suppose." He looked at Ritsuko
again. "Don't worry about her, I'll
look after her." At Christine's
look, he chuckled. "Not like
that. I doubt I'm her type. I just mean I'll make sure she's doing okay."
"You're surprisingly
good at that." She gave him a soft
smile, before turning to scan the crowd again.
She saw Kerr and Spock on the other side of the room. They were off by themselves and deep in
conversation.
"I'm guessing it's a
security matter or Starfleet has come up with our next mission," Penhallon
suggested.
"Or both," she
agreed.
"Do you want me to go
find out? Discreetly I mean?"
"Eavesdrop, you
mean?" At his look of feigned
horror, she laughed. "It's
okay. They'll tell me eventually."
"I'm sure they
will."
"You're an interesting
man, Stephen. You eavesdrop. You give advice for the lovelorn. You know everyone on the crew..."
"And I make a mean
martini." He gave her one of the
old leers.
She laughed.
He grinned back at her. "I could be a very valuable
resource."
She studied him for a moment,
then shook her head.
His face fell.
"I think you'd make an
even more valuable friend," she said gently.
He stared at her.
"You mean being nice to
you was the way to get you to shut up all this time?" she laughed.
His slow grin made her feel
unaccountably good. "I guess
so."
"I'll have to remember
that." She saw Kerr making his way
across the crowd.
"Looks like someone is
coming to claim his woman," Penhallon said teasingly. "I think I'll go see how Umachi is
doing."
As he turned away, she
reached out and touched his arm.
"Stephen, thank you. For
everything."
"For you, my
dear..." He raised his glass to her
and his expression was the one that used to grate on her so badly. Now she just found it endearing.
"Hope I wasn't breaking
anything up?" Kerr whispered in her ear, just the slightest hint of
jealousy in his voice. It was reassuring
that some things never changed.
"You weren't," she
said, looking up at him and wanting to feel his arms around her.
He seemed to read her
mind. "You want to get out of
here?"
She nodded and they slipped
around the crowd and left by the rear entrance.
"Come on," she said, pulling him toward the lift. They rode the lift in silence, getting out on
deck two. He started to head to her
quarters but she stopped him. "I
want to go somewhere else," she said leading him the other way.
The VIP observation deck was locked,
but her command codes opened the doors easily.
She walked to one of the large viewscreens. "For some reason, I want to watch the
stars."
"You could have done
that at the wake," he said gently as he came up behind her and wrapped his
arms around her.
"But we couldn't do
this," she said as she pushed back, relishing the warmth of his body
against hers. "I needed you close
to me. It makes me feel safe." She wrapped her arms over his. "Everything is so crazy right now. It's good to know that there is one thing
that I can count on." She trailed
off as she thought of Farrell. "One
person that I don't have to wonder who he is." She thought she felt him tense. "What?"
There was a long
silence. Then he pulled her closer. "Nothing." His voice was nearly a whisper, when he
asked, "Do you have any idea how much I love you?"
She turned in his arms. "What's wrong?"
He gently brushed her hair
from her face. "Just feeling mushy,
I guess."
"Me too." She kissed him gently. "I love you. Never doubt that." She kissed him again, then turned to face the
stars again. "Just hold me for a
while?"
"Forever," he
promised. And she knew that he meant it.
FIN