Alone in the Light, Part 7
Title: Alone in the Light, Part 7
Author:
j_green_teeth
Universe/Series: reboot
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 5080 of ~41,000
Warnings: Minor/OC Character Death, discussion of Suicide (highlight to view complete warnings)
Characters/Pairings: Kirk/Spock, implied Scotty/Uhura, OC/OC, ensemble, Many OCs
Jim had just set his breakfast tray down next to Spock’s when he saw Lieutenant Finn at the door. He had deep worry lines around his eyes. Once he spotted Jim, he quickly made his way over to him, looking furtively around the mess.
“Shit,” Jim muttered.
“In all probability, correct,” Spock agreed as he noticed Lieutenant.
Finn sounded panicked. “Captain, I can’t find...”
Oh, gods. Jim interrupted him before he got any further, “Lieutenant, is this a conversation we should have in private?”
Finn’s eyes widened. “Yes, sir.”
Jim looked down at his tray. He tucked the bacon between the toast and wrapped the impromptu sandwich in a napkin. “Come on. Conference room six should be open.” Finn followed Jim and Spock out, wringing his hands.
When the door to the conference room closed behind them both Jim and Spock looked at Lieutenant Finn expectantly. Finn was staring at his hands.
Jim prompted, “Lieutenant, Why'd you need to talk to me? ”
“Well, sir, I...we can’t find Lieutenant Commander Vick. She usually gets gamma shift’s final report but today she didn’t come. Reese went along to her quarters but she wasn’t there. So, Kay got me. We’ve looked everywhere she might be and still haven’t found her. I wanted to get your permission to start a shipwide search, sir.”
Jim and Spock exchanged glances. “Since Vick is a member of the senior staff, Mr. Spock and I will coordinate the search.”
Finn bobbed his head. “Thank you, sir.”
“I want you to talk to the other security personnel and make up a map of where you’ve searched and when. Mr. Spock, ask the communications officer on duty to send out a shipwide broadcast asking Vick to check in.”
Lieutenant Finn brightened. “You think she just got busy somewhere, sir?”
Jim gave him a tight smile. “I hope so. Dismissed.”
Finn snapped a salute and left. Spock cocked his head. “You hope so.”
Jim let the smile drop. “I do. I just don’t think its very likely.”
Spock nodded. “I will contact the communications officer. Shall I ask them to start configuring communicators for a shipwide search?”
“Yes.” Jim took a bite of his bacon sandwich. It was only breakfast time and already the day was doing downhill.
~*~*~*~
Lieutenant Finn was back in the conference room fifteen minutes later with two other security officers in tow. The three pulled up a map of the Enterprise and started marking off sections. The shipwide broadcast had yielded no results. In another half hour and Jim planned to make another broadcast, asking the crew to provide any information they could on Lieutenant Commander Vick’s whereabouts. Then the cat would be well and truly out of the bag about the missing Chief of Security. Most of the crew probably suspected already.
Finn tentatively stepped up next to him. “Sir?”
“Yes, Lieutenant.”
“We’ve marked out where we searched.”
Jim scanned the map. Light yellow squares shaded a tiny fraction of the ship. It looked like they had searched the obvious places; the Security department admin area including Vick’s office. They had looked in Vick’s quarters, the mess, the gym. They had poked their heads into a couple of the rec rooms as well, the bridge, the armory, Sickbay, Jim office. It was a fair start. There was a yellow smudge in the storage bay. He tapped it with his finger.
Lieutenant Finn nervously told him, “We checked where Baloo was killed. I though maybe she would have gone there to have another look.”
Jim started tracing another smudge of yellow. “Good thought. And the transporters?”
“Standard procedure, sir. All transporter activity is monitored so we checked with the techs.”
Jim nodded. Not that there was anywhere to transport to in this part of space. “Good. That still leaves a lot of area left to cover. What was her last logged access point?”
Finn slapped his hand to his forehead. “I didn’t look, sir. I’m sorry, I didn’t think of that. I'm really, really.”
Jim cut him off, “Why don't you do it now, Lieutenant?”
“Aye, aye, sir.” Finn flushed as he issued the commands on the desktop terminal. “It looks like she went into Engineering around 2000 hours last night, sir.” He swallowed. “No record of her leaving.”
Jim grimaced. “Okay, so she either left through the Jefferies tubes or she’s still there.” He poked at the comm console. “This is Kirk, get me Engineering.”
“Engineering. This is Ensign Sun.”
“Ensign, can you check if anyone down there seen Lieutenant Commander Vick in the last twelve hours?”
“I’ll check, sir, but most of gamma shift is off duty right now.”
Jim cut the comm and turned back to Finn. “Lieutenant, I want you to take a team and check the main areas in Engineering. Warp core, life support, deflector array.” Finn turned to go. “And ask people if they’ve seen anything suspicious. There’s no point in keeping this quiet any more.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” Finn hurried out with the two other security officers on his heels.
“Spock, how are we doing for search teams?” Spock had take over the task with his usual efficiency.
“Ten four-person teams, six of those have one member of Engineering department. I assume that is where we will focus our search.”
“Yeah, we’ll start there.” Jim headed out the door. “I’d better warn Scotty.”
By 1100 they had all the search teams canvassing Engineering. Each team had been issued a communicator and a PADD with direct access to the search map. Jim had been sitting with Scotty watching it slowly turn more and more yellow. Scotty had been invaluable for pointing out the places that engineers frequently went and where they didn’t.
He commented that, “If I were ever looking for some place to hide a body, Captain, I'd dump it down one of the exhaust shafts. It would vaporize in an instant.”
“You’ve thought about it?” Jim wasn't really surprised. Scotty took people attacking his engines very seriously.
“It came up, in a strictly hypothetical manner, at one of the Engineering 'social' events.”
Ensign Himshe had taken over coordinating the search parties’ communication. “Captain, team nine is reporting they found something.”
Jim started thumbing at his PADD. “Team nine, that’s..”
“That’s Keenser’s team. They're in the pipes.” Scotty was already bounding away.
Jim peered over the railing, considering the mass of pipes. It was an impressive drop, even after he'd spaced jumped onto a Romulan mining platform. At the bottom of the well of pipes he could make out a small patch of red and black. He turned to Lieutenant Gray, Ensign Vasquez and Petty Officer Huun. “Where’s Lieutenant Keenser?”
“Down there, sir,” Gray replied smartly.
Jim looked back in time to see the red and black shape divide into two. “How did he get down there?”
“He’s always climbing all over the place,” Scotty grumbled.
Quicker than Jim expected, Keenser had scaled the wall and stood on the walkway. “It’s Vick, Captain. She's dead.”
“Damn.” He had pretty much been expecting this for the last three hours. “Okay, how are we going to get down there? Petty Officer Huun, have Ensign Himshe recall the search teams. Ask her to have Dr. McCoy and Mr. Spock meet us here. Scotty, ideas on how to get us down there or her up here?”
Scotty sucked his lip. “Grav pads. We can wire a pad between two generators and lower one down.”
“Let's do it.”
In short order the grav pad was set up and Bones, Spock and Lieutenant Finn had arrived. Jim gave Finn a minute then gently ordered him to round up a security team to document the scene. He stood with Spock and Bones on either side, looking down. “What do you figure?”
“A fall from this height would most certainly be fatal,” said Spock.
“It wouldn’t take much to help someone over,” Bones added.
Jim turned towards the grav pads. “Come on, let’s get down there.”
“Strictly speaking, Lieutenant Finn, as Lieutenant Commander Vick’s second, should handle the investigation,” Spock said from behind him.
Jim spun on his heel to face his first officer.“My chief security officer died in the course of an active investigation. Its my duty as Captain to protect my crew and that means taking over this investigation.”
“Paint a big target on your back, you mean.” Bones was scowling.
“I’m not going to have anyone take risks that I’m not willing to.” He lowered his voice. “You saw the kid. He’s barely keeping it together.”
Bones looked past around him at Spock. “Spock, are you going to let Jim run headlong after a murderer?”
“I see no evidence that he would be in significantly more danger should he investigate. Whoever they are, they are able to traverse the ship unhindered.” Spock seemed calm but the muscles in his jaw were tight.
“You’re just going to let him stick his pretty little nose in everywhere?” Bones demanded.
“I am the Captain. This is my decision,” Jim told them both, annoyed.
Spock shifted closer to him. “As the First Officer it is my duty to ensure the Captain’s safety. The most effective way to do this is to work with him to determine what has been going on and who is responsible.”
“So you're both going to be nosing around. Regular Sampson and Hayes, you two.” Bones gave in. “Which I guess makes me Rembrandt. Always hated his hair. Let’s get down there. That body isn’t getting any fresher.”
After a day slogging through Engineering they didn’t know much more. So far there was nothing inconsistent with a fall. Bones said she had probably died shortly after 2000. So she had walked out here and then what? Had she planned to meet someone? He and Spock hung around long enough to question the engineers on beta shift. Chief Petty Officer Lucca said she might have seen Vick on her way in but she couldn’t be sure. Jim had developed a stabbing headache from the bone-rattling hum in the section of Engineering he'd been searching, so he suggested to Spock that they start afresh on Vick’s notes the next day.
Jim wasn’t sure why Spock had decided involve himself in the investigation. Spock was a master of half-truths, or at least half-answers. Officer-ly concern for his captain? Sure. A more personal concern for Jim’s safety? Maybe. Curiosity? Probably. A desire to find the culprit and feel safe again? Certainly. A deep un-professed love for Jim? Probably not. Any of, or all of, those reasons. Jim couldn’t decipher Spock’s motives. It would be nice to have him around. Deductive reasoning, inductive reasoning, Jim was sure Spock could rock them all.
~*~*~*~
Jim gave Lieutenant Uhura the conn for alpha shift. He had arranged to meet Spock outside Vick’s office that morning. Spock was rather remarkably late. Jim loitered in the department common area. He had sent Finn on his way to do the routine security tasks for the ship, then struck up a conversation with Ensign Reese. Reese was shaken by his superior’s death but willing enough to talk about what she had done in the last couple of days. “She had been working on Ensign Baloo’s death, sir. And the bad meds. She had Asher running down crew locations when Ensign Baloo died. He’d have the list. The meds, well, at first she wanted Dr. Lars removed from duty but they weren’t all packed by him. Dr. McCoy is treating it as accidental contamination. The case was still open but Vick was spending her time on Ensign Baloo’s death, to be honest.”
“And Ensign Swanson’s death?” Jim had managed a few words with her about it before Baloo's funeral.
“Sir?”
“Had she mentioned it?” Reese slowly shook his head. Spock came into the common area then. He was walking so briskly he was almost jogging. “Okay. Ah, Spock, there you are.”
“Captain.”
“You’re late.” Jim chortled. He rarely had a change to say that while Spock had taken Vulcan non-delight in telling him that during their first few months.
“I apologize. I was detained in the chemistry lab.”
Jim rapped his knuckles on Reese’s desk. “Thank, Ensign Reese.” He turned toward Vick’s office. “Come on, Spock, let’s get started.”
Jim had never seen Vick’s office before. The reports were routed to him or Vick met him at his office so he hadn't come down here. The best description he could think of was 'mess'. It looked like someone had take a box of PADD and tossed them all over. He poked his head out. “Ensign Reese?”
“Sir.”
“Did her office always...?” Kirk wasn't sure how to phrase his question politely.
Reese smiled. “Yes, sir. She said it helped her think.”
“So, not attacked by a cyclone beast?” He checked.
“No, sir.”
Reese straightened. “Not tossed in an attempt for a criminal to retrieve a vital piece of evidence?”
“No, sir. Finn and I are the only ones who’ve been in there since Lieutenant Commander Vick.”
“Right.” Jim went back in and rubbed his hands together. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”
“Extreme disorder.” Spock was picking his way across the room taking care not to step on any of the PADDs. “I am unclear how such disorder can contribute to coherent thought.”
“Order is only a matter of how you look at things.”
Spock nudged a flimsy with his foot. “I am looking down.”
“You take that pile, I’ll take this one, and we'll start sorting by person.” Jim grabbed a stack from the floor. “I’ve got Ensign Bestine’s preliminary autopsy, the roster for the football teams and the shift rota for the next month.” He looked around but couldn’t find a large enough space to start a new pile. He settled for sweeping the files away from the center of the floor. He set his files down, saying, “Bestine, general and Security business. What do you have?”
“Lieutenant Quing’s psychological evaluation along with Yeoman Carmicheal’s and some holos of Ensign Bestine’s quarters when her body was found.” Spock dropped Carmicheal’s file on a clear bit of floor to start a new pile, and the others on top of the autopsy report.
Jim grabbed another stack for himself. “Inventory of items missing from storage, Baloo’s tox screen - clean, list of tampered-with medications, who got them and when.” he grimaced. “Holos from the scene of Baloo’s murder, with notes on blood spatter analysis.”
“Various crew members locations at the time of Ensign Baloo’s murder, an attempt to reconstruct Dr. Lars’ movements between four and eight weeks ago. A recipe for clams de beurre rigellian, an inventory of Ensign Bestine’s quarters.” Spock listed as he set each in its appropriate pile.
They went back and forth like this for a while. Jim declared a break when everything on the floor was in neat piles. Spock stood while Jim propped himself on the edge of Vick’s desk. That unbalanced one of the haphazard piles on the desk, which fell onto the chair then slid on to the floor with a gentle whoosh. Spock raised an eyebrow but Jim kept his back to the new mess. They had five piles: Bestine, Baloo, Security paperwork, general ship's stuff and personal. “So what do we know?”
“Earth is spherical in shape.” Spock deadpanned.
“Ha, ha. What do we know that we didn’t know an hour ago?”
“Someone has removed three lengths of standard phase cabling from the storage bay without completing the requisite paperwork.”
Jim tilted his head. “Do you think it means something?”
“Unlikely, as it appears to have been removed at least ten weeks prior to Ensign Baloo’s death.”
Jim chewed his lip. “So how do we figure out what matters?”
“I do not have an answer. We should start by assuming that all of it does, then attempt to put it all into context.”
“Let’s get the rest of this sorted out.” He grabbed the files that had fallen to the floor. “Report on Kumba 6-4 away mission.” Jim started a sixth pile. “And Swanson’s personnel file. A treatise on forensic acoustics and details of cyanide poisoning.”
They had barely finished clearing the desk when Lieutenant Finn came in. He glanced around then stared at his feet. “Captain, here’s the report on where the Lieutenant Commander’s body was found, and Dr. McCoy,” he swallowed, “should be done with the autopsy any time now.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.”
Once the door had shut Jim dropped the new files down to start a seventh pile. “So, three suspicious deaths and one outright murder.”
Vick’s office wasn't big enough for the lives of six people and there wasn’t room to pace. Jim commandeered conference room nine and they moved everything there. It was one of the bigger rooms, with a long oblong table. Jim put each person’s files in front of one of the chairs. He sat at the head of the table and stared at them for several minutes before Spock spoke. “Shall we start by outlining our assumptions?”
“Yeah, that. Okay. Should we assume that some or all of these deaths are related?”
“Your reasoning?” Asked Spock, adding an eyebrow for effect.
Jim rolled his eyes. “Do you believe we had four unrelated deaths in less than a month of smooth sailing?”
“Statistically unlikely but not impossible.” Spock countered.
Jim shot back. “One of those deaths was that of the person who was investigating the other deaths.”
“Point. If we assume they are related we must assume an intelligent force arranging them.”
Jim waged a finger at him. “The Killashandra encountered an anti-probability field where the normal laws of probability didn’t apply.” He could play Spock's game.
“That was localized to a single UA and the Enterprise has traveled several thousand times that distance in the last three weeks. There have been no reports of similar anomalies in this area, and,” Spock was clearly getting ready for the coup de grâce, “there is at the moment no evidence that the anti-probability field is not the work of an intelligent force.”
“So we will assume that more than one of the deaths are the work of an intelligent force. But why kill anyone?”
“Let us finish our assumptions.”
Jim frowned and tossed off, “The force is corporeal and therefore on board the ship.”
“That assumption is more likely if Ensign Baloo’s death is related to the others. The obvious second actor does make it inconsistent with the other deaths.”
“Okay, let’s focus on the others. Why would someone want to kill people but make it look like accidents?”
“To avoid investigation as long as possible. Ensign Baloo’s death was investigated immediately whereas Ensign Bestine’s was not treated with the same urgency. We have only recently started questioning Ensign Swanson’s death.”
“So why these people?”
“We will need to determine a commonality. With so many deaths it is likely we can find something of statistical significance.”
They set to it, each taking two of the personnel files. “Lieutenant Commander Vick and Ensign Swanson both joined the crew at the beginning of the five year mission,” Spock said gently, examining the PADD on the table.
“Bestine and Baloo were both on board for the Narada incident. Let’s focus on after the start of the five year mission. If we don’t find anything we can go back further,” Jim replied.
Spock cocked his head at Jim. “Ensigns Bestine, Baloo and Swanson overlapped years at the Academy.”
Spock did have a fair point that this whole thing might have its roots a couple of years and a million light years away. “Fine. I’ll send a transmission to Willie at the Academy, beg for some of the gossip about them.”
Spock appeared appeased and moved on to the next common fact he found. “Bestine and Baloo took shore leave on New Toulouse.”
Jim shook his head. “So did Vick and Swanson and half the crew.” Not him or Spock they had been making nice with the ruling council. Sulu and Uhura had come back with some fun stories though.
And on it went as they continued trying to find links between the four. Bones stopped by to deliver Vick’s autopsy report. He slouched in a chair not by one of the piles of personal records. “No surprise that her fatal injuries were consistent with a fall from a height. I'm going to run a tox panel on her to be sure, but all evidence was that she was conscious when she went over the railing.” Bones also mentioned in a heavy handed way that Dr. Evans thought it would be better for ship morale if the Captain would show his face some. Let the crew see their fearless leader. He didn't linger, heading off muttering about ghouls.
Two hours into beta shift they decided to call it a night. “I think I’m going cross-eyed from rereading those things.” Jim rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Let’s get some supper.”
“I had planned to forgo the meal so I could arrive on time for the concert this evening.”
“Oh, right, that’s tonight. We still have a half-hour. We could grab a bite and still be on time.”
Spock nodded. “Unless you would prefer to continue investigating.”
Jim shook his head. “I need to let it stew for a while. And, like Dr. Evans says, the crew will wonder if we disappear.”
~*~*~*~
When they arrived the mess was brimming with people, most of them talking over empty trays. 'Come for the food, stay for the gossip,' Jim though wryly. He felt eyes on him as he got his food. Whenever he was under scrutiny he always had the urge to give people something to watch. Today he resisted doing a pirouette or busting out the first verse of ‘I been gone again’. A attentive silence surrounded him and Spock as they sat down. He would bet that every ear in the place was listening for any tidbit of information.
“So, Spock, how about this weather we’re having?”
“Captain, you know as well as I that space is not subject to planetary climate variations.” The pressure of listening ears faded as it was clear the Captain and the first officer weren’t going to discuss anything interesting.
The same rec room Scotty had given his lecture in had been transformed into a concert hall for the evening. The long table had been removed from the dais and replaced with music stands and chairs for the four performers. Behind it red and gold fabric was hung from floor to ceiling. The concert hall was empty compared to the mess. Maybe a third of the sixty seats were occupied.
They arrived just in time to find seats before the lights dimmed and the performers filed onto the stage; Ensign Cho with a flute, Petty Officer Mercer with an oboe, Chief Petty Officer Robitaille with a bassoon and a crewman Jim recognized but couldn’t name with a clarinet. Ensign Cho looked like she was going to throw up as she stepped forward. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Tonight we will be playing the first, third and ninth movements of Sunset on the Sadalbari. We would like to dedicate the performance to Ensign Emmanuel Baloo. He was a good friend and we miss him.” There was a smattering of applause led by a crewman in the front row, the same one Jim had seen comforting Ensign Cho at Baloo’s funeral.
Ensign Cho sat down and after a short pause they all took up their instruments. The music ebbed and swirled through the hall. Jim lost himself in it for a while. Letting his brain pick out the patterns of the notes and anticipate the musical themes. He glanced over once or twice to see Spock, eyes closed, head tilted, completely absorbed in the music and breathtakingly beautiful in his serenity. Too soon the music came to an end. Jim was watching when Spock’s eyes fluttered open. He really wanted to kiss him. Spock didn’t lose his mellow look when he noticed Jim staring at him.
The applause started then, with a couple of whistles from the back. Jim’s attention jerked back to the performers as they took their bows. With the show done the divide between performers and audience dissolved. Ensign Stein had immediately jumped up and started congratulating Ensign Cho, who looked a lot less like she was going to be sick now that the concert was over. Spock fell into step with Jim as he made his way to the stage to complement the group himself.
Mercer accepted Jim’s praise with a near euphoric attitude, Robitaille with the calm of an experienced performer. Jim nodded to the clarinetist, who was surrounded by audience members and engaged in a lively conversation. Ensign Stein was still at Ensign Cho’s side when they made their way to her. “Ensign Cho, it was an amazing concert. Thank you so much for sharing your talent with us this evening.”
“Thank you, Captain.” She blushed. “Randy was actually the one who convinced me to. I was really nervous.”
“You performed with an impressive degree of accuracy.” Spock added.
Ensign Cho looked a little bewildered. She probably wasn’t used to complements Vulcan-style. “It is unfortunate that more crew members did not take the opportunity to observe.”
“Actually, sir, I’m kind of glad they didn’t. I’m not sure I would have been able to play if everyone had been here.” She bit her lip. “I’m sure you’ll have a full house for your concert, Commander. Ashley says that everyone’s looking forward to it.”
“Thank you, Ensign.” They continued to chat about the performance while Jim stared at Spock. Spock was performing in one of the concerts? Why hadn’t he told Jim? He ate two meals a day with this guy and shared the bridge at least three shifts a week. Surely it would have come up that Spock played an instrument; that he was going to play it for the crew. Unless Spock was deliberately keeping it from him. Spock had to know that Jim would show up if he knew. Did Spock not want him there? What the hell?
He zoned back into the conversation as Ensign Cho was saying, “Yes, that’s why we went with red, not the green we had originally planned.”
“Well, it looks very nice. If you’ll excuse me, Ensign Cho, Commander.” Stupid hard-to-read Vulcans. Jim was almost to the door before Spock caught up with him.
“Captain, are you well?”
“Peachy, Commander.” Jim stretched his lips in something that might have been a grin.
Spock kept pace with him and after a second said, “I do not believe you are telling the truth.”
“Really?” The not-grin had a lot more tooth in it now.
“While I am not an expert on human communication, Ensign Cho did not seem to think it entirely appropriate to say the decor was very nice when the color had been modified to honor a dead friend.”
Jim winced. Not an inexcusable faux pas, but it must have been clear he wasn’t paying attention. “I’ll think of something better to say about the curtains at your concert, if I show up.” Jim knew it was petty and childish but that was how he was feeling.
Spock stared at him for a second then asked. “You are upset that I am giving a concert?”
“I’m upset you didn’t tell me.” Jim hands curled into fists.
“It did not come up in conversation.”
“Bullshit, Spock.”
“Captain...”
“No Spock, you got what you wanted, a Jim-free concert. Because I won’t be showing up.” By then the conversation had taken them out of the rec area and to the turbolift. Jim darted inside and hit the close button. “Good night, Commander.”
~*~*~*~
When Jim got back to his quarters he threw himself onto the bed to sulk. He knew he was acting like a teenager but he needed to get his angst out now so he could face his first officer like a man tomorrow morning. He thought he had been reading Spock right. That their strange friendship would, could, become a more intimate relationship. After all, they seemed to have been orbiting each other for the past three weeks. When Jim wasn’t seeking Spock out, Spock seemed to find him. That’s what it had felt like, at least. Maybe Spock had just been doing his own thing and on a ship of less than four hundred people they just happened to overlap with Jim’s things. With a Vulcan’s abhorrence of murder, Spock injecting himself into the investigation might have been a cultural reaction, not a personal one.
Jim buried his face in his pillow. Where was a human-to-Vulcan translator when he needed one? Maybe he should ask Uhura. Maybe not.
He grumpily got ready for bed. He fell asleep surprisingly easily but it wasn’t a restful night. He dreamed he was chasing a funeral dirge through darkness. He woke sweating. When he dropped off again the dirge led him to the painting with all its shifting faces. This time Lieutenant Commander Vick’s face, neck at an impossible angle, joined the parade. Ensign Bestine was there as well, still and pinker than he remembered. Lieutenant Quing’s eyes were open, staring through him. He caught flashes of red too, but didn’t turn to look. He didn’t want to see Ensign Baloo’s smashed face with its half-open, cloudy green eyes.
Next: Part 8
Author:
j_green_teeth
Universe/Series: reboot
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 5080 of ~41,000
Warnings: Minor/OC Character Death, discussion of Suicide (highlight to view complete warnings)
Characters/Pairings: Kirk/Spock, implied Scotty/Uhura, OC/OC, ensemble, Many OCs
Jim had just set his breakfast tray down next to Spock’s when he saw Lieutenant Finn at the door. He had deep worry lines around his eyes. Once he spotted Jim, he quickly made his way over to him, looking furtively around the mess.
“Shit,” Jim muttered.
“In all probability, correct,” Spock agreed as he noticed Lieutenant.
Finn sounded panicked. “Captain, I can’t find...”
Oh, gods. Jim interrupted him before he got any further, “Lieutenant, is this a conversation we should have in private?”
Finn’s eyes widened. “Yes, sir.”
Jim looked down at his tray. He tucked the bacon between the toast and wrapped the impromptu sandwich in a napkin. “Come on. Conference room six should be open.” Finn followed Jim and Spock out, wringing his hands.
When the door to the conference room closed behind them both Jim and Spock looked at Lieutenant Finn expectantly. Finn was staring at his hands.
Jim prompted, “Lieutenant, Why'd you need to talk to me? ”
“Well, sir, I...we can’t find Lieutenant Commander Vick. She usually gets gamma shift’s final report but today she didn’t come. Reese went along to her quarters but she wasn’t there. So, Kay got me. We’ve looked everywhere she might be and still haven’t found her. I wanted to get your permission to start a shipwide search, sir.”
Jim and Spock exchanged glances. “Since Vick is a member of the senior staff, Mr. Spock and I will coordinate the search.”
Finn bobbed his head. “Thank you, sir.”
“I want you to talk to the other security personnel and make up a map of where you’ve searched and when. Mr. Spock, ask the communications officer on duty to send out a shipwide broadcast asking Vick to check in.”
Lieutenant Finn brightened. “You think she just got busy somewhere, sir?”
Jim gave him a tight smile. “I hope so. Dismissed.”
Finn snapped a salute and left. Spock cocked his head. “You hope so.”
Jim let the smile drop. “I do. I just don’t think its very likely.”
Spock nodded. “I will contact the communications officer. Shall I ask them to start configuring communicators for a shipwide search?”
“Yes.” Jim took a bite of his bacon sandwich. It was only breakfast time and already the day was doing downhill.
~*~*~*~
Lieutenant Finn was back in the conference room fifteen minutes later with two other security officers in tow. The three pulled up a map of the Enterprise and started marking off sections. The shipwide broadcast had yielded no results. In another half hour and Jim planned to make another broadcast, asking the crew to provide any information they could on Lieutenant Commander Vick’s whereabouts. Then the cat would be well and truly out of the bag about the missing Chief of Security. Most of the crew probably suspected already.
Finn tentatively stepped up next to him. “Sir?”
“Yes, Lieutenant.”
“We’ve marked out where we searched.”
Jim scanned the map. Light yellow squares shaded a tiny fraction of the ship. It looked like they had searched the obvious places; the Security department admin area including Vick’s office. They had looked in Vick’s quarters, the mess, the gym. They had poked their heads into a couple of the rec rooms as well, the bridge, the armory, Sickbay, Jim office. It was a fair start. There was a yellow smudge in the storage bay. He tapped it with his finger.
Lieutenant Finn nervously told him, “We checked where Baloo was killed. I though maybe she would have gone there to have another look.”
Jim started tracing another smudge of yellow. “Good thought. And the transporters?”
“Standard procedure, sir. All transporter activity is monitored so we checked with the techs.”
Jim nodded. Not that there was anywhere to transport to in this part of space. “Good. That still leaves a lot of area left to cover. What was her last logged access point?”
Finn slapped his hand to his forehead. “I didn’t look, sir. I’m sorry, I didn’t think of that. I'm really, really.”
Jim cut him off, “Why don't you do it now, Lieutenant?”
“Aye, aye, sir.” Finn flushed as he issued the commands on the desktop terminal. “It looks like she went into Engineering around 2000 hours last night, sir.” He swallowed. “No record of her leaving.”
Jim grimaced. “Okay, so she either left through the Jefferies tubes or she’s still there.” He poked at the comm console. “This is Kirk, get me Engineering.”
“Engineering. This is Ensign Sun.”
“Ensign, can you check if anyone down there seen Lieutenant Commander Vick in the last twelve hours?”
“I’ll check, sir, but most of gamma shift is off duty right now.”
Jim cut the comm and turned back to Finn. “Lieutenant, I want you to take a team and check the main areas in Engineering. Warp core, life support, deflector array.” Finn turned to go. “And ask people if they’ve seen anything suspicious. There’s no point in keeping this quiet any more.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” Finn hurried out with the two other security officers on his heels.
“Spock, how are we doing for search teams?” Spock had take over the task with his usual efficiency.
“Ten four-person teams, six of those have one member of Engineering department. I assume that is where we will focus our search.”
“Yeah, we’ll start there.” Jim headed out the door. “I’d better warn Scotty.”
By 1100 they had all the search teams canvassing Engineering. Each team had been issued a communicator and a PADD with direct access to the search map. Jim had been sitting with Scotty watching it slowly turn more and more yellow. Scotty had been invaluable for pointing out the places that engineers frequently went and where they didn’t.
He commented that, “If I were ever looking for some place to hide a body, Captain, I'd dump it down one of the exhaust shafts. It would vaporize in an instant.”
“You’ve thought about it?” Jim wasn't really surprised. Scotty took people attacking his engines very seriously.
“It came up, in a strictly hypothetical manner, at one of the Engineering 'social' events.”
Ensign Himshe had taken over coordinating the search parties’ communication. “Captain, team nine is reporting they found something.”
Jim started thumbing at his PADD. “Team nine, that’s..”
“That’s Keenser’s team. They're in the pipes.” Scotty was already bounding away.
Jim peered over the railing, considering the mass of pipes. It was an impressive drop, even after he'd spaced jumped onto a Romulan mining platform. At the bottom of the well of pipes he could make out a small patch of red and black. He turned to Lieutenant Gray, Ensign Vasquez and Petty Officer Huun. “Where’s Lieutenant Keenser?”
“Down there, sir,” Gray replied smartly.
Jim looked back in time to see the red and black shape divide into two. “How did he get down there?”
“He’s always climbing all over the place,” Scotty grumbled.
Quicker than Jim expected, Keenser had scaled the wall and stood on the walkway. “It’s Vick, Captain. She's dead.”
“Damn.” He had pretty much been expecting this for the last three hours. “Okay, how are we going to get down there? Petty Officer Huun, have Ensign Himshe recall the search teams. Ask her to have Dr. McCoy and Mr. Spock meet us here. Scotty, ideas on how to get us down there or her up here?”
Scotty sucked his lip. “Grav pads. We can wire a pad between two generators and lower one down.”
“Let's do it.”
In short order the grav pad was set up and Bones, Spock and Lieutenant Finn had arrived. Jim gave Finn a minute then gently ordered him to round up a security team to document the scene. He stood with Spock and Bones on either side, looking down. “What do you figure?”
“A fall from this height would most certainly be fatal,” said Spock.
“It wouldn’t take much to help someone over,” Bones added.
Jim turned towards the grav pads. “Come on, let’s get down there.”
“Strictly speaking, Lieutenant Finn, as Lieutenant Commander Vick’s second, should handle the investigation,” Spock said from behind him.
Jim spun on his heel to face his first officer.“My chief security officer died in the course of an active investigation. Its my duty as Captain to protect my crew and that means taking over this investigation.”
“Paint a big target on your back, you mean.” Bones was scowling.
“I’m not going to have anyone take risks that I’m not willing to.” He lowered his voice. “You saw the kid. He’s barely keeping it together.”
Bones looked past around him at Spock. “Spock, are you going to let Jim run headlong after a murderer?”
“I see no evidence that he would be in significantly more danger should he investigate. Whoever they are, they are able to traverse the ship unhindered.” Spock seemed calm but the muscles in his jaw were tight.
“You’re just going to let him stick his pretty little nose in everywhere?” Bones demanded.
“I am the Captain. This is my decision,” Jim told them both, annoyed.
Spock shifted closer to him. “As the First Officer it is my duty to ensure the Captain’s safety. The most effective way to do this is to work with him to determine what has been going on and who is responsible.”
“So you're both going to be nosing around. Regular Sampson and Hayes, you two.” Bones gave in. “Which I guess makes me Rembrandt. Always hated his hair. Let’s get down there. That body isn’t getting any fresher.”
After a day slogging through Engineering they didn’t know much more. So far there was nothing inconsistent with a fall. Bones said she had probably died shortly after 2000. So she had walked out here and then what? Had she planned to meet someone? He and Spock hung around long enough to question the engineers on beta shift. Chief Petty Officer Lucca said she might have seen Vick on her way in but she couldn’t be sure. Jim had developed a stabbing headache from the bone-rattling hum in the section of Engineering he'd been searching, so he suggested to Spock that they start afresh on Vick’s notes the next day.
Jim wasn’t sure why Spock had decided involve himself in the investigation. Spock was a master of half-truths, or at least half-answers. Officer-ly concern for his captain? Sure. A more personal concern for Jim’s safety? Maybe. Curiosity? Probably. A desire to find the culprit and feel safe again? Certainly. A deep un-professed love for Jim? Probably not. Any of, or all of, those reasons. Jim couldn’t decipher Spock’s motives. It would be nice to have him around. Deductive reasoning, inductive reasoning, Jim was sure Spock could rock them all.
~*~*~*~
Jim gave Lieutenant Uhura the conn for alpha shift. He had arranged to meet Spock outside Vick’s office that morning. Spock was rather remarkably late. Jim loitered in the department common area. He had sent Finn on his way to do the routine security tasks for the ship, then struck up a conversation with Ensign Reese. Reese was shaken by his superior’s death but willing enough to talk about what she had done in the last couple of days. “She had been working on Ensign Baloo’s death, sir. And the bad meds. She had Asher running down crew locations when Ensign Baloo died. He’d have the list. The meds, well, at first she wanted Dr. Lars removed from duty but they weren’t all packed by him. Dr. McCoy is treating it as accidental contamination. The case was still open but Vick was spending her time on Ensign Baloo’s death, to be honest.”
“And Ensign Swanson’s death?” Jim had managed a few words with her about it before Baloo's funeral.
“Sir?”
“Had she mentioned it?” Reese slowly shook his head. Spock came into the common area then. He was walking so briskly he was almost jogging. “Okay. Ah, Spock, there you are.”
“Captain.”
“You’re late.” Jim chortled. He rarely had a change to say that while Spock had taken Vulcan non-delight in telling him that during their first few months.
“I apologize. I was detained in the chemistry lab.”
Jim rapped his knuckles on Reese’s desk. “Thank, Ensign Reese.” He turned toward Vick’s office. “Come on, Spock, let’s get started.”
Jim had never seen Vick’s office before. The reports were routed to him or Vick met him at his office so he hadn't come down here. The best description he could think of was 'mess'. It looked like someone had take a box of PADD and tossed them all over. He poked his head out. “Ensign Reese?”
“Sir.”
“Did her office always...?” Kirk wasn't sure how to phrase his question politely.
Reese smiled. “Yes, sir. She said it helped her think.”
“So, not attacked by a cyclone beast?” He checked.
“No, sir.”
Reese straightened. “Not tossed in an attempt for a criminal to retrieve a vital piece of evidence?”
“No, sir. Finn and I are the only ones who’ve been in there since Lieutenant Commander Vick.”
“Right.” Jim went back in and rubbed his hands together. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”
“Extreme disorder.” Spock was picking his way across the room taking care not to step on any of the PADDs. “I am unclear how such disorder can contribute to coherent thought.”
“Order is only a matter of how you look at things.”
Spock nudged a flimsy with his foot. “I am looking down.”
“You take that pile, I’ll take this one, and we'll start sorting by person.” Jim grabbed a stack from the floor. “I’ve got Ensign Bestine’s preliminary autopsy, the roster for the football teams and the shift rota for the next month.” He looked around but couldn’t find a large enough space to start a new pile. He settled for sweeping the files away from the center of the floor. He set his files down, saying, “Bestine, general and Security business. What do you have?”
“Lieutenant Quing’s psychological evaluation along with Yeoman Carmicheal’s and some holos of Ensign Bestine’s quarters when her body was found.” Spock dropped Carmicheal’s file on a clear bit of floor to start a new pile, and the others on top of the autopsy report.
Jim grabbed another stack for himself. “Inventory of items missing from storage, Baloo’s tox screen - clean, list of tampered-with medications, who got them and when.” he grimaced. “Holos from the scene of Baloo’s murder, with notes on blood spatter analysis.”
“Various crew members locations at the time of Ensign Baloo’s murder, an attempt to reconstruct Dr. Lars’ movements between four and eight weeks ago. A recipe for clams de beurre rigellian, an inventory of Ensign Bestine’s quarters.” Spock listed as he set each in its appropriate pile.
They went back and forth like this for a while. Jim declared a break when everything on the floor was in neat piles. Spock stood while Jim propped himself on the edge of Vick’s desk. That unbalanced one of the haphazard piles on the desk, which fell onto the chair then slid on to the floor with a gentle whoosh. Spock raised an eyebrow but Jim kept his back to the new mess. They had five piles: Bestine, Baloo, Security paperwork, general ship's stuff and personal. “So what do we know?”
“Earth is spherical in shape.” Spock deadpanned.
“Ha, ha. What do we know that we didn’t know an hour ago?”
“Someone has removed three lengths of standard phase cabling from the storage bay without completing the requisite paperwork.”
Jim tilted his head. “Do you think it means something?”
“Unlikely, as it appears to have been removed at least ten weeks prior to Ensign Baloo’s death.”
Jim chewed his lip. “So how do we figure out what matters?”
“I do not have an answer. We should start by assuming that all of it does, then attempt to put it all into context.”
“Let’s get the rest of this sorted out.” He grabbed the files that had fallen to the floor. “Report on Kumba 6-4 away mission.” Jim started a sixth pile. “And Swanson’s personnel file. A treatise on forensic acoustics and details of cyanide poisoning.”
They had barely finished clearing the desk when Lieutenant Finn came in. He glanced around then stared at his feet. “Captain, here’s the report on where the Lieutenant Commander’s body was found, and Dr. McCoy,” he swallowed, “should be done with the autopsy any time now.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.”
Once the door had shut Jim dropped the new files down to start a seventh pile. “So, three suspicious deaths and one outright murder.”
Vick’s office wasn't big enough for the lives of six people and there wasn’t room to pace. Jim commandeered conference room nine and they moved everything there. It was one of the bigger rooms, with a long oblong table. Jim put each person’s files in front of one of the chairs. He sat at the head of the table and stared at them for several minutes before Spock spoke. “Shall we start by outlining our assumptions?”
“Yeah, that. Okay. Should we assume that some or all of these deaths are related?”
“Your reasoning?” Asked Spock, adding an eyebrow for effect.
Jim rolled his eyes. “Do you believe we had four unrelated deaths in less than a month of smooth sailing?”
“Statistically unlikely but not impossible.” Spock countered.
Jim shot back. “One of those deaths was that of the person who was investigating the other deaths.”
“Point. If we assume they are related we must assume an intelligent force arranging them.”
Jim waged a finger at him. “The Killashandra encountered an anti-probability field where the normal laws of probability didn’t apply.” He could play Spock's game.
“That was localized to a single UA and the Enterprise has traveled several thousand times that distance in the last three weeks. There have been no reports of similar anomalies in this area, and,” Spock was clearly getting ready for the coup de grâce, “there is at the moment no evidence that the anti-probability field is not the work of an intelligent force.”
“So we will assume that more than one of the deaths are the work of an intelligent force. But why kill anyone?”
“Let us finish our assumptions.”
Jim frowned and tossed off, “The force is corporeal and therefore on board the ship.”
“That assumption is more likely if Ensign Baloo’s death is related to the others. The obvious second actor does make it inconsistent with the other deaths.”
“Okay, let’s focus on the others. Why would someone want to kill people but make it look like accidents?”
“To avoid investigation as long as possible. Ensign Baloo’s death was investigated immediately whereas Ensign Bestine’s was not treated with the same urgency. We have only recently started questioning Ensign Swanson’s death.”
“So why these people?”
“We will need to determine a commonality. With so many deaths it is likely we can find something of statistical significance.”
They set to it, each taking two of the personnel files. “Lieutenant Commander Vick and Ensign Swanson both joined the crew at the beginning of the five year mission,” Spock said gently, examining the PADD on the table.
“Bestine and Baloo were both on board for the Narada incident. Let’s focus on after the start of the five year mission. If we don’t find anything we can go back further,” Jim replied.
Spock cocked his head at Jim. “Ensigns Bestine, Baloo and Swanson overlapped years at the Academy.”
Spock did have a fair point that this whole thing might have its roots a couple of years and a million light years away. “Fine. I’ll send a transmission to Willie at the Academy, beg for some of the gossip about them.”
Spock appeared appeased and moved on to the next common fact he found. “Bestine and Baloo took shore leave on New Toulouse.”
Jim shook his head. “So did Vick and Swanson and half the crew.” Not him or Spock they had been making nice with the ruling council. Sulu and Uhura had come back with some fun stories though.
And on it went as they continued trying to find links between the four. Bones stopped by to deliver Vick’s autopsy report. He slouched in a chair not by one of the piles of personal records. “No surprise that her fatal injuries were consistent with a fall from a height. I'm going to run a tox panel on her to be sure, but all evidence was that she was conscious when she went over the railing.” Bones also mentioned in a heavy handed way that Dr. Evans thought it would be better for ship morale if the Captain would show his face some. Let the crew see their fearless leader. He didn't linger, heading off muttering about ghouls.
Two hours into beta shift they decided to call it a night. “I think I’m going cross-eyed from rereading those things.” Jim rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Let’s get some supper.”
“I had planned to forgo the meal so I could arrive on time for the concert this evening.”
“Oh, right, that’s tonight. We still have a half-hour. We could grab a bite and still be on time.”
Spock nodded. “Unless you would prefer to continue investigating.”
Jim shook his head. “I need to let it stew for a while. And, like Dr. Evans says, the crew will wonder if we disappear.”
~*~*~*~
When they arrived the mess was brimming with people, most of them talking over empty trays. 'Come for the food, stay for the gossip,' Jim though wryly. He felt eyes on him as he got his food. Whenever he was under scrutiny he always had the urge to give people something to watch. Today he resisted doing a pirouette or busting out the first verse of ‘I been gone again’. A attentive silence surrounded him and Spock as they sat down. He would bet that every ear in the place was listening for any tidbit of information.
“So, Spock, how about this weather we’re having?”
“Captain, you know as well as I that space is not subject to planetary climate variations.” The pressure of listening ears faded as it was clear the Captain and the first officer weren’t going to discuss anything interesting.
The same rec room Scotty had given his lecture in had been transformed into a concert hall for the evening. The long table had been removed from the dais and replaced with music stands and chairs for the four performers. Behind it red and gold fabric was hung from floor to ceiling. The concert hall was empty compared to the mess. Maybe a third of the sixty seats were occupied.
They arrived just in time to find seats before the lights dimmed and the performers filed onto the stage; Ensign Cho with a flute, Petty Officer Mercer with an oboe, Chief Petty Officer Robitaille with a bassoon and a crewman Jim recognized but couldn’t name with a clarinet. Ensign Cho looked like she was going to throw up as she stepped forward. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Tonight we will be playing the first, third and ninth movements of Sunset on the Sadalbari. We would like to dedicate the performance to Ensign Emmanuel Baloo. He was a good friend and we miss him.” There was a smattering of applause led by a crewman in the front row, the same one Jim had seen comforting Ensign Cho at Baloo’s funeral.
Ensign Cho sat down and after a short pause they all took up their instruments. The music ebbed and swirled through the hall. Jim lost himself in it for a while. Letting his brain pick out the patterns of the notes and anticipate the musical themes. He glanced over once or twice to see Spock, eyes closed, head tilted, completely absorbed in the music and breathtakingly beautiful in his serenity. Too soon the music came to an end. Jim was watching when Spock’s eyes fluttered open. He really wanted to kiss him. Spock didn’t lose his mellow look when he noticed Jim staring at him.
The applause started then, with a couple of whistles from the back. Jim’s attention jerked back to the performers as they took their bows. With the show done the divide between performers and audience dissolved. Ensign Stein had immediately jumped up and started congratulating Ensign Cho, who looked a lot less like she was going to be sick now that the concert was over. Spock fell into step with Jim as he made his way to the stage to complement the group himself.
Mercer accepted Jim’s praise with a near euphoric attitude, Robitaille with the calm of an experienced performer. Jim nodded to the clarinetist, who was surrounded by audience members and engaged in a lively conversation. Ensign Stein was still at Ensign Cho’s side when they made their way to her. “Ensign Cho, it was an amazing concert. Thank you so much for sharing your talent with us this evening.”
“Thank you, Captain.” She blushed. “Randy was actually the one who convinced me to. I was really nervous.”
“You performed with an impressive degree of accuracy.” Spock added.
Ensign Cho looked a little bewildered. She probably wasn’t used to complements Vulcan-style. “It is unfortunate that more crew members did not take the opportunity to observe.”
“Actually, sir, I’m kind of glad they didn’t. I’m not sure I would have been able to play if everyone had been here.” She bit her lip. “I’m sure you’ll have a full house for your concert, Commander. Ashley says that everyone’s looking forward to it.”
“Thank you, Ensign.” They continued to chat about the performance while Jim stared at Spock. Spock was performing in one of the concerts? Why hadn’t he told Jim? He ate two meals a day with this guy and shared the bridge at least three shifts a week. Surely it would have come up that Spock played an instrument; that he was going to play it for the crew. Unless Spock was deliberately keeping it from him. Spock had to know that Jim would show up if he knew. Did Spock not want him there? What the hell?
He zoned back into the conversation as Ensign Cho was saying, “Yes, that’s why we went with red, not the green we had originally planned.”
“Well, it looks very nice. If you’ll excuse me, Ensign Cho, Commander.” Stupid hard-to-read Vulcans. Jim was almost to the door before Spock caught up with him.
“Captain, are you well?”
“Peachy, Commander.” Jim stretched his lips in something that might have been a grin.
Spock kept pace with him and after a second said, “I do not believe you are telling the truth.”
“Really?” The not-grin had a lot more tooth in it now.
“While I am not an expert on human communication, Ensign Cho did not seem to think it entirely appropriate to say the decor was very nice when the color had been modified to honor a dead friend.”
Jim winced. Not an inexcusable faux pas, but it must have been clear he wasn’t paying attention. “I’ll think of something better to say about the curtains at your concert, if I show up.” Jim knew it was petty and childish but that was how he was feeling.
Spock stared at him for a second then asked. “You are upset that I am giving a concert?”
“I’m upset you didn’t tell me.” Jim hands curled into fists.
“It did not come up in conversation.”
“Bullshit, Spock.”
“Captain...”
“No Spock, you got what you wanted, a Jim-free concert. Because I won’t be showing up.” By then the conversation had taken them out of the rec area and to the turbolift. Jim darted inside and hit the close button. “Good night, Commander.”
~*~*~*~
When Jim got back to his quarters he threw himself onto the bed to sulk. He knew he was acting like a teenager but he needed to get his angst out now so he could face his first officer like a man tomorrow morning. He thought he had been reading Spock right. That their strange friendship would, could, become a more intimate relationship. After all, they seemed to have been orbiting each other for the past three weeks. When Jim wasn’t seeking Spock out, Spock seemed to find him. That’s what it had felt like, at least. Maybe Spock had just been doing his own thing and on a ship of less than four hundred people they just happened to overlap with Jim’s things. With a Vulcan’s abhorrence of murder, Spock injecting himself into the investigation might have been a cultural reaction, not a personal one.
Jim buried his face in his pillow. Where was a human-to-Vulcan translator when he needed one? Maybe he should ask Uhura. Maybe not.
He grumpily got ready for bed. He fell asleep surprisingly easily but it wasn’t a restful night. He dreamed he was chasing a funeral dirge through darkness. He woke sweating. When he dropped off again the dirge led him to the painting with all its shifting faces. This time Lieutenant Commander Vick’s face, neck at an impossible angle, joined the parade. Ensign Bestine was there as well, still and pinker than he remembered. Lieutenant Quing’s eyes were open, staring through him. He caught flashes of red too, but didn’t turn to look. He didn’t want to see Ensign Baloo’s smashed face with its half-open, cloudy green eyes.
Next: Part 8