by L. A. Graf
"Oh, my God," the tow-headed desk sergeant had gasped, his cheeks
flushing very red. "You're in Starfleet?
Chekov wondered what the ID net said about him. "That's what I told
you."
A half-dozen guards crowded around the sergeant's shoulders, and he
pointed out one or two items on the screen. "Starship security," one of
them muttered, as if he'd just found out their prisoner was going to
explode. "Holy cowre"
After that, they'd taken Chekov's jacket, his belt, and every piece of
identification he had. They probably would have taken his boots, as
well, but there was apparently some disagreement about how safely they
could come within kicking distance. They took everything they could
reach over the counter, though, then escorted him back here, where he
obviously wouldn't be a danger to anyone but himself.
It occurred to Chekov that maybe Starfleet should do something about
security's reputation among civil-Jan personnel.
A loud rumbling from the front of his cell caught Chekov's attention
from the ever-enthralling wall, and he looked up just in time to see the
door slide away to reveal a glimpse of nearby freedom. The guard in the
hall stepped deferentially aside, replaced by a more massive figure in
familiar, welcome
Starfleet burgundy and gold.
"Lieutenant Chekov?"
Chekov jumped to his feet, delighted to see anyone not dressed in Sigma
One black. "Lieutenant," he said, recognizing the other man's rank as
he came forward to shake his hand.
"Lieutenant Lindsey Purrlance, from Commodore Petersen's office."
Although nearly twenty centimeters taller than Chekov and broad enough
to fill the doorway from shoulder to shoulder, Purviance's
handshake was nervous-hot, and remarkably gentle and shy. "I've talked
with station security about what happened," he said in a voice that
matched his tentative demeanor. "They understand your captain's waiting
on you to leave port, so they're releasing you to my custody. If you
promise you'll come back to go before their local judicator as soon as
this mission's over, they'll let me take you back to the Enterprise."
Chekov leaned around Purviance's imposing bulk to nod at the young guard
behind him. "I promise."
"All right, then." Purviance handed him his jacket, the pockets already
heavy with sundry items. "I've got a shuttle waiting, and your friends
are in the lobby. Are you ready?"
Chekov nodded, digging quickly through his pockets while he followed the
other lieutenant into the hall, just to make sure everything was there.
As they passed into the outer office, he glanced by reflex at the wall
chronometer, and his heart sank into his stomach. "Oh, my God! Is that
the fight time?"
Purviance frowned, looking around until he found where Chekov was
looking. "Well--yes. Is there some problem?"
"The Enterprise was supposed to leave port twenty-eight minutes ago."
Chekov groaned and buried his face in his jacket. "I just made an
entire starship late for departure."
"The captain's going to kill us," Sulu pronounced for what Chekov
thought must be the hundredth time since their shuttle left the lock at
Sigma One.
"We're only forty minutes late," Chekov said, pacing the narrow aisle
while their taxi set down in the midst of the Enterprise's hangar bay.
"No one forced
you to wait for me. You weren't under arrest, you know."
Sulu sighed and nodded. "I know." They'd been through this a hundred
times, too.
"Besides, if it hadn't been for those Orions, we'd have been back on
board in time to leave dock on schedule." Chekov wished he could make
himself sit down, but almost two hours in that tiny Sigma security cell
made even a passenger shuttle feel big enough to be worth prowling.
"Surely, the captain knows this wasn't our fault."
Uhura made a little sound of disbelief, then turned to look behind her
when the outside door sighed open as the signal they could leave. "But,
Chekov, it is our fault." She stood, both arms wrapped around the pot of
Sulu's wilted water lily. "If you hadn't taken that policeman's
weapon--"
"I should have let him continue hitting that old man?"
"I didn't say you were wrong--"
"All fight, all fight--" Sulu, a plastic bag of water depending from
either hand, made a wide-armed gesture to hurry his friends toward the
open hatch. "I'm sure this is going to be a lovely argument, but can we
have it later? I really, really want to get my lizards into something
better than these bags so they have at least a small chance of surviving
this adventure. It would be nice to report for duty sometime, too. So
let's go, huh?"
Chekov levered the lily pond out of the seat, just as glad to have an
excuse not to continue this discussion. He'd already been over this
ground a million times while examining the confines of his cell, and he
didn't need further reminding that--as trapped into his
actions as he felt--he had no one to blame but himself. He stepped
aside, pond balanced against his
hip, to let the shuttle's fourth passenger into the aisle. "Need any
helP?" Purrlance asked.
Chekov shook his head. Despite his size, Purviance exuded all the
symptoms of an office worker terrified of exerting himself. "It's not
that heavy--I've got it."
Purviance nodded with a self-conscious, quicksilver smile, then ducked
out the door behind Sulu and Uhura, leaving Chckov to bring up the rear.
Not that entering the hangar bay last did much to improve his reception.
"Mr. Chekov, glad to see you could make it." Kirk's tone, while
pleasant enough, didn't lessen the severity of his frown.
Chekov felt embarrassment sting his cheeks like a slap. Bad enough to
have to suffer Kirk's disapproval; having to suffer it in civilian
clothes that still stank of a civilian brig only made matters unbearably
worse. "Captain, I can explain--"
"I'm sure you can." Kirk flicked an equally sharp look at Sulu and
Uhura. "If you two aren't too busy,
I'm sure your presence would be welcomed on the bridge."
"Yes, sir."
"Aye, sir."
Sulu paused only long enough to drop both plastic bags into the lily
pond Chekov held, then hurried off after Uhura and his plant without
saying another word. InSide the bags, the lizards bumbled against each
other in the newly turbulent water, chirped once
in helpless alarm, and promptly vanished.
Chekov knew just how they felt.
"Captain Kirk?" Purrlance stepped forward, one hand outstretched
uncertainly in a bid for Kirk's
attention. When the captain took his hand to shake it, Purviance beamed
with what looked like relief. "Captain, I'm Lieutenant Lindsey
Purvianee, with Commodore PeterseWs office."
Kirk nodded, although the faint line between his brows told Chekov the
introduction didn't really hold much meaning for him. "Lieutenant
Purviancem"
"Commodore Petersen sent Mr. Purviance to arrange for my release,"
Chekov explained. He made a vow not to flinch from Kirk's scrutiny when
the captain turned back to him. "It was supposed to expedite matters,
sir. We came here immediately after security let me go."
"I was late getting there," Purrlance volunteered. "We had a
communications mix-up at the office. I ended up with some Andorians
down in Customsre" He trailed off into an apologetic shrug even before
Kirk waved aside his justification.
"You're not the one who needs to explain, Mr. Purviance," Kirk said. He
shot a hard-edged glare at Chekov. "When I see your report on this
incident, there'd better be one hell of an explanation included."
Chekov nodded, tightening his grip on the lily pond. "I'll do my best,
sir."
The captain nodded shortly, but Chekov knew better than to take that as
any kind of reprieve. "Mr. Purviance--" Kirk turned briskly to the tall
visitor. "I appreciate your help in returning my officer. Please give
my thanks to Commodore Petersen, and tell him nothing like this--"
"Oh!" Purviance broke in with eyes. wide in surprise. "I'm not going
back to the station, sir." He seemed suddenly awkward again, and caught
off-guard. "Commodore Petersen has assigned me as liaison officer to the
efficiency team. To sort of aeeli
mate them to appropriate ship behavior, and to keep them out of trouble
for you. So I'll be along for the duration--" He peeked a bit timidly
at Kirk. that's all right with you, sir."
Kirk's mouth pressed into a line that might be either annoyance or
chagrin. "I wish the commodore had called me," he' admitted. Then with
a shrug, "What's one more passenger? Welcome aboard."
Purviance flushed darkly. Chekov couldn't tell if that meant he was
embarrassed or pleased. "Thank you, sir."
"In the meantime, we all have work to do." Kirk rapped his knuckles
against the outside edge of the lily pond, and Chekov nearly jumped at
the loudness of that hollow sound. "See if you can't find someplace to
stow that souvenir ashtray, then put Mr. Purviance together with the
auditors. I'll talk to you about this other matter after the ship is
under way."
Chekov was perfectly willing to let the other matter
simply drop, but knew enough to nod. "Yes, sir."
"Carry on."
Once Kirk had turned away, Chekov forced himself to relax his shoulders,
and thanked God there'd been a visitor here to discourage one of Kirk's
more searing lectures. As if able to read the Russian's thoughts,
Purviance released a pent-up sigh big enough for both of them. "Is he
always that mtmmau g
Chekov glanced up at him, smiling wryly. "That wasn't intimidating.
That was incredibly well mannered and reserved."
"Wow."
Chekov nodded the liaison officer toward the exit, more than ready to
find somewhere to dispose of the pond. "Wait until you see him with the
auditors."
Sulu heard the muffled whisper of turbolift doors opening outside his
cabin, and groaned, grabbing for his uniform jacket. When you knew Kirk
was waiting for you on the bridge, even the brief interval between
turbolifts could seem like an intolerable delay. He stamped into his
boots and dove through his cabin door, yelling, "Hold the lift!"
"Don't worry, I've got it." Unlike Sulu, Uhura had managed to get
completely dressed, but her hair spilled down her neck in spiky
disarray. She held the lift controls with an elbow until he got in,
then let the doors slide closed.
"Bridge," she said through a mouthful of hairpins, and the turbolift
from Deck Six sang upward. Sulu struggled into his uniform jacket and
did up the fastenings, then watched the communications officer bundle
her hair into a neat bun and clip it into place. It amazed him that
anyone could perform such a complicated operation without the aid of a
mirror.
He ran a hand through his own ruffled hair and smiled wryly. "Is it
just me, or does being late for duty make you feel like a cadet again,
too?"
"Now that you mention it, yes." Uhura checked her earrings to be sure
they were straight, then threw him a suspicious look. "Why do these
things always seem to happen when I go on shore leave with you and
Chekov?"
Sulu tried to smooth his face into its blandest expression of innocence.
"I was just about to ask you the same thing."
"Right." The turbolift doors whisked open on the bridge before Uhura
could say more. Sulu stepped onto the busily humming deck, feeling
Captain Kirk's glance rake across him as he took his seat at the helm.
He winced, and suddenly found himself wishing he
were assigned to a nice inconspicuous bridge station, like
communications.
"Prepare for departure from Sigma One, Mr. Sulu," Kirk said mildly,
then swung his chair around to watch the status reports scrolling across
the engineering station's screens.
"Aye, sir." Sulu let out a trickling breath of relief while he tapped
his security clearance into the helm computer and began running a
standard systems check. The captain must have decided to place the
blame for their delay squarely on the Sigma One liaison officer. Either
that, or on Chekov.
Around him, the Enterprise's other bridge officers were running similar
checks on their stations, sharing updates in quiet voices as they geared
up the massive starship for flight. Sulu finished running through the
helm checklist, then brought up Sigma One's outboard schematic. The
main docking lane glowed fiery white across the screen between the
rippling gold of station gantries and the blue dots of docked ships. One
of the blue dots was moving down the docking lane, already halfway out
to open space.
Sulu glanced over at the dark-haired woman who shared the flight console
with him. "Who's running the lane ahead of us?"
Lieutenant Bhutto glanced at the schematic. "An Orion police cruiser--I
think traffic control called it the Mecufi "She pointed up at the
viewscreen with its wide-angle overview of Sigma One's ecliptic docks.
The gantry lights at the far side of the port flickered as a slim shadow
floated across them. "There it goes now."
"Captain Kirk." Uhura pitched her voice to cut through the murmur of
preparation. "Sigma One station control has cleared us for departure."
"Very good." Kirk swung his console back toward the main viewscreen.
"Take her out, Mr. Sulu."
"Aye, sir." Sulu took a deep breath, submerging himself in the
meticulous routine of piloting a starship out into space. He brought
the impulse engines to one-quarter power to avoid blasting Sigma One's
delicate gantries. The dim starlit bulk of the space station dominated
the interstellar night, aglow with glistening spiderwebs of red and
green approach lights. The Enterprise slowly hosed away from its dock,
steady as a gliding swan under Sulu's hands. "We should be clear of the
station in approximately five and one-half minutes, sir."
"Very g ood. Mr. Bhutto, lay in a course to sector nine-eighteen mark
three along the Andorian bord
er. And look sharp to keep us inside
Federation space." The bright intensity with which Kirk scanned the
space ahead of them belied his wry tone. "After all, they tell me we're
here to stop a war, not to start one."
Chapter Four
CHEKOV STOPPED by the mirror in his quarters only long enough to verify
that the seams on his burgundy duty jacket lined up, then ducked out the
door while still finger-combing his hair into order.
It hadn't been easy finding room for Sulu's lily pond in the helmsman's
cabin. Chekov had finally given up and moved a half-dozen potted plants
to the floor beneath Sulu's worktable so he could balance the pond on
the end, retrieving the Halkan lily from the bathroom counter so it
could sit in its new home until its owner returned. It looked
remarkably dejected, drooped all over the marble-epoxy bottom for lack
of water's buoyancy, but Chekov didn't dare fill the thing until Sulu
had put it where he'd want it for good. Chekov knew perfectly well who
would be recruited to help empty and move the monstrosity when that time
came.
The plastic bags of lizards, then, he'd taken back to
his own cabin. He didn't know for sure that being left in the plastic
would hurt them, but watching them bump their little noses against the
transparent sides of their confinement reminded him too much of spending
