Star Trek - TOS - Death Count Read online

  dark, Scottish frown at the doorway. "We might be speaking just a wee

  bit too soon, I'm afraid..; ."

  "Kirk?" Heavy footsteps thundered up behind him, followed by a sharp rap

  on the shoulder. "I need to talk with you, Captain. As usual, your

  people are causing me problems."

  Dropping his head, Kirk rubbed his eyes with one hand instead of turning

  to growl at John Taylor. "Mr.

  Taylor, I am on shore leave. Mr. Spock is on the ship if you have

  questions--"

  "Damn right I have questions!" Taylor stepped into Kirk's peripheral

  vision, Obviously waiting for the captain to look up at him. He'd be

  waiting a long time, Kirk decided. "Your Commander Spock says we've

  been barred from reboarding the Enterprise. Is that true?"

  "Vulcans don't lie, Mr. Taylor." Kirk finally swung his chair to face

  the man, and couldn't help lifting eyebrows in surprise to find all four

  auditors fidgeting impatiently behind him. He focused on the taller of

  the two men, knowing from three days' hard experience that Taylor was

  both mouthpiece and motor for this unit. A more offensive and prickly

  mouthpiece, Kirk couldn't have easily imagined.

  "You've been barred from the Enterprise," Kirk said, "because your

  business there is finished. I was told to assist in your inspection

  while we were in port. You said last night you were done with that

  inspection, so, as of this morning, you have no further authority or

  need to inspect either my ship or my crew. I'll thank you to leave us

  our remaining shore-leave time in peace." He nodded to the other three

  auditors, and moved to turn his back on them in the hopes they'd all

  take the hint and drag their boss away.

  "Not so fast, Captain." Taylor stopped him with a hand on his chair and

  a hard copy film of Federation letterhead under his nose.

  Kirk took the film in both hands, refusing to recognize the boarding

  permit or the official-as-hell signature beneath it. "What's this?"

  "My orders." Taylor crossed his arms, lips curled in a sneer of

  satisfaction. "I found a number of discrepancies while compiling my

  people's reports on your

  crew. The Federation Auditor General thought it a good idea to observe

  your ship in the course of a normal mission. That way, we can decide

  who's at fault before my final report is filed."

  Kirk clenched his fist until the permit crumpled to near-unreadability.

  "At fault?" McCoy's blue eyes snapped with a disapproval Kirk had

  learned to recognize well over the years. "You turn people's jobs and

  experience into sets of little numbers, then you think somebody has to

  be at fault when those numbers don't match up to some desk jockey's idea

  of efficiency? Good God! How are we supposed to be efficient with you

  people sticking your noses into everything all the time?"

  "Lingering hostility," Kirk reminded the doctor. McCoy only made a face

  and fell silent.

  "You can't come with us." Kirk turned his chair to face Taylor again,

  suppressing a guilty swell of satisfaction when the auditor danced back

  a few steps to avoid colliding with the captain. "No matter what the

  Auditor Genefal thinks, you're still civilian personnel. The Enterprise

  is scheduled to conduct three separate planetary explorations in the

  Canopis sector on our next assignment. As captain, I have the right to

  declare any of those explorations too dangerous for civilians." He

  spread his hands and smiled his most painfully charming smile. "I am

  hereby declaring them so."

  Scott leaned across the table to shrug apologetically. "You can't very

  well study a crew's efficiency when you aren't even able to be with the

  crew, now, can you?" He sounded as reasonable and contrite as any man

  ever could. "Maybe next time."

  Taylor narrowed dark eyes to peer back and forth from one to another of

  the three officers. Kirk honest lO

  ly couldn't remember if Taylor's every expression and gesture had

  irritated him from the beginning, or if the rare degree of enmity they

  shared had developed along the way. It probably didn't matter anymore.

  "What if you weren't going to Canopis?"

  "But we are," Kirk said. "Even you can't change that."

  Taylor snapped a finger against the flimsy in Kirk's hand. "I don't

  have to. Commodore Petersen already did."

  That clock-spring of tension came back with annoying facility. Kirk

  flipped the printout in his hand, frowning down the long chains of

  legalese until words like "Orion" and "surveillance" popped out of the

  morass. "They can't do this." He shot a glare up at Taylor, and wanted

  suddenly to slap the hauteur from the auditor's face. "Why wasn't I

  told?"

  Taylor shrugged, snatching back the flimsy. "I'm sure there's a message

  waiting back on board for you. Maybe you don't check your mail prompts

  often enougll." And maybe this was all some stupid misunderstanding, and

  the Au ditor General wasn't really trying to push some starship captain

  into murdering a team of his investigators. Standing, Kirk pulled the

  flimsy from Taylor's hand much more politely than the auditor had taken

  it from him.

  "Where are you going?" Taylor asked when Kirk stepped past him.

  "To talk to Commodore Petersen. There has to be some mistake." Kirk

  stopped in the doorway to glance behind him. "Bones, Scotty--I'm afraid

  I'll have to take a rain check on that lunch."

  They were already out of their chairs and headed after him. "Are you

  kidding?" McCoy grumbled while

  auditors parted before him like a flock of flustered pigeons. Taylor

  turned an irate circle, mouth agape even though he didn't try to stop

  the doctor. "If I have to eat anything called bubble-and-squeak," McCoy

  declared, "the last thing I need is somebody criticizing the efficiency

  of my digestion." He bumped Scott with one elbow, favoring the auditors

  with a withering glare. "Come on, Scotty--let's go find someplace

  that's a little more discriminating about who it lets inside."

  Chapter Two

  "THOSE WER the rudest policemen I've ever met."

  Uhura's voice still smoldered with indignation. "Look at them--they're

  shoving everyone around!"

  Sulu nodded, frowning as he watched the dark red figures weave through

  the crowd. Their spacing seemed too carefully measured to be the random

  result of shore leave. "I think they're looking for someone. Or

  something."

  "Well, I hope they don't find it." Uhura took a bite of the pastry she

  held, then looked at it in surprise. "Pavel, did you give me your

  cloud-apple pie?"

  The security chief looked over his shoulder at her,

  ' his frown fading down to one worried line between his eyes. "No, my

  pie was the one that dropped," he assured her. "That one's yours."

  Uhura gave him a dubious look. "Are you sure?"

  "Positive."

  Sulu grinned. Knowing how much Chekov disliked trying any new food made

  it even more fun to watch him wriggle out of it. "Coward," Sulu said,

  licking the last pastry flakes Off his fingers. He glanced around,

  looking for a directional marker. "Come
on. We've only got an hour of

  shore leave left, and the store I want to visit is at the other end of

  the Galleria."

  "It would be." Despite his sigh, Chekov followed Sulu readily enough

  down the gallery's curving tunnel, merely pausing to let Uhura fall into

  step in front of him. Sulu noticed that the Russian kept a wary gaze on

  the red-suited figures moving through the crowd. "So, what hobby is it

  this week?"

  Sulu blinked, startled by the accuracy of the question. "How did you

  know--I mean, what makes you think I've got a new hobby?" He glanced

  back over his shoulder, hearing Uhura's soft ripple of amusement join

  Chekov's deeper laugh. "What's so funny?"

  "Sulu, there are some things we always do when we're on shore leave

  together," said Uhura with a smile. "Chekov always cajoles you into

  playing simulator games--"

  "Uhura always finds some strange food for us to eat," added Chekov

  wryly.

  "--and you always find a new hobby to bring back to the Enterprise."

  Uhura glanced back at the security chief as they passed the wide gate

  leading to the station's docks. "What was it last time? Arcturian

  yoga?"

  Chekov shook his head. "That was the time before last. Last time it

  was carving replicas of famous starships in Iotian crystal."

  Mild embarrassment prickled across Sulu's cheekbones, and he lifted a

  hand to scrub the feeling away.

  "I'm still working on those starships," he pointed out. "And how was I

  supposed to know you need two sets of arms to do Arcturian yoga?"

  "Sulu, anyone who ever watched an Arcturian doing yoga would have known

  that!"

  "Details, details." Sulu spotted the store he'd visited earlier, its

  painted sign almost hidden by the a'lot of ivy and flowers cascading

  through the open lattice front. "This is the place I want. Come on

  in."

  Inside the plant-filled shop, the pleasant chime of falling water

  mingled with the chirp of something like crickets. Sulu paused on the

  threshold and took a deep breath. The mingled smells of soil, leaves,

  and budding flowers moistened the air to almost planetary freshness.

  "Isn't this great?"

  "It's just like your cabin." Chekov came to stand beside him, frowning

  as the chirping sound grew louder. "I thought insects weren't allowed

  on class-four space stations."

  "Those aren't insects." Sulu lifted a curtain of Denebian lianas for

  Uhura to duck under, ignoring the spray of fragrant pollen they showered

  down on

  him. Beyond the screen of vines, water bubbled in a curved black

  marble pool, gently rocking the moss' green pads of water lilies.

  Translucent sapphire riow-en rose out of the water on fragile, bending

  stems while small gold-speckled lizards curled catlike on the leaf pads.

  Their throat sacs fluttered with their chirping.

  "Oh!" Uhura's musical voice softened with delight as she sank down

  beside the pool. "Sulu, they're beautiful! What are they?"

  "Hallcan water chameleons. Watch." Sulu bent and flicked the water with

  his finger. The chirping soared

  into a chorus of alarm, then fell to total silence. On each leaf, only

  a moss-green shimmer marked the places where the small lizards had been.

  "Pretty neat, huh?"

  '."You're going to raise lizards now?" Chekov ducked through the lianas

  and stood looking dubiously down at the lily pond. "What's the point of

  owning animals you can't even see, much less play with?"

  "I like the noise they make. And, besides, you need them to pollinate

  the flowers." Sulu dipped a hand into the pool to cup one of the

  translucent lilies in his palm. As soon as his fingers touched th

  petals, a pale firefly radiance sprang to life inside. After a moment,'

  a shower of phosphorescent pollen puffed out from the heart of the

  flower. The tiny sparks settled across Sulu's hand and glowed there

  briefly before winking out. "I've only seen these in books--they're

  Halkan fire-lilies. I thought I'd add them to my plant collection."

  "I'd like to know where--" A fierce crash from the front of the store

  interrupted Chkov's question. The security officer spun around, then

  dove through the curtain of vines with Sulu and Uhura at his heels. They

  emerged from the screen of plants in time to see a figure in familiar

  dark red armor sweep a potted cycad off its stand. Ceramic shattered

  violently against the tile floor.

  "Hey!" A burly gray-haired man burst from a door in the side of the

  shop, holding a broom like a quarterstaff in his hands. He looked in

  disbelief at the heaps of dirt and trampled leaves on his floor, then up

  at the armored policeman. "What the hell do you think'you're doing?"

  The Orion turned his dark-visored face toward the

  shopkeeper, one gloved hand already curled around another plant.

  "Standard search procedure," he said in a curt monotone, and sent the

  plant crashing to the ground.

  "The hell it is! This is the Federation!" The shopkeeper tried to

  shoulder between the Orion and his merchandise. Sulu drew a tense

  breath, seeing Chekov move to intervene. He dropped a restraining hand

  on the security officer's shoulder just as the Orion flung the burly

  shopkeeper across the shop with the ease of someone used to a much

  higher gravity. The chirping from the back of the shop went silent with

  the crash.

  Chekov paused warily, an arm's length from the Orion while Uhura darted

  forward to crouch beside the groaning shopkeeper. Sulu drew in a tense

  breath, watching the armored policeman turn to stare down at the

  slighter figure of the Enterprise's security chief. "Chekov," Sulu said

  softly, "just let me say three words before you decide to start

  something hereto two Earth gravities."

  "I remember." The RussJan's left hand twitched behind his back, fingers

  clenching and unclenching twice. Sulu blinked and took a slow step

  backward. "Uhura, is the shopkeeper all right?"

  "It looks like he hit his head," she said, sounding concerned.

  "Don't worry about me." The burly man levered himself up on one elbow as

  Sulu retreated another step. "Just go get station security. I want

  them to arrest this ape."

  "That won't be necessary." Chekov's hand jerked again, and Sulu promptly

  yanked down a handful of lianas. He doubled the vines into a loop, then

  flung them up to catch around the Orion's neck. The

  armored man grunted and tore away with a jerk, but in the brief moment

  that his hands were occupied, Chekov ducked forward to grab his phaser

  pistol from his belt. The security officer had to dive sideways to

  escape the Orion's swift clutch, but he rolled and came up with the

  phaser pointed directly at the policeman's chest. The Orion stiflened

  as if the joints of his suit had suddenly locked.

  "Get out of here," Chekov ordered. "Now." The-Orion's gloved hands

  twitched as if he wanted to grab for the phaser rifle slung across his

  back, but Chekov'S fierce staremand steady grip on the phaser

  pistolsmust have convinced him not to try it. With a ' wordless growl,

  he swung around and
headed for the door.

  "Uhura, call station security." Chekov rolled to his feet without taking

  his eyes off the retreating red-suited figure. "Tell them their Orion

  visitors are breaking station regulations down on Deck Five."

  The communications officer nodded. "Of all times not to have a

  communicator with me. Where's your station intercom?" she asked the

  shopkeeper.

  "Inside my office." The burly man jerked his chin at the door he'd come

  out of, then grunted and gingerly lifted a hand to his forehead. While

  Uhura scrambled up to look for the communicator panel, Sulu found a dean

  cloth near a plant-watering faucet, then came over to press it against

  the shopkeeper's forehead.

  The man gave him a quick, tight smile. "Thanks. You folks handled that

  Orion real good--better than station security would have. I take it

  you're from the starship that came into port the other day?"

  "That's right." Chekov still watched the door, the phaser pistol ready

  in his hand. "What's wrong with

  your station security? They shouldn't be letting Orions get away with

  this kind of behavior."

  The shopkeeper sighed. "They weren't this bad when they first hit

  port." He heard the dubious noise Chekov made and grunted. "Well, they

  were rude, but they didn't do anything this destructive. Just looked

  around the shop two or three times and left."