Chapter Fifteen
Stardate 54365.9 (21 May 2377)
TowuundCity, Vagabond VI
Slayd stood in stunned silence, torn between anguish and anger over the pitiful sight before him. He had anticipated perhaps a few patients with minor ailments in the ward – not this scene of abject misery. His thoughts of a friendly game of dominoes with Herr Goertz over a bottle of Janx Spirits evaporated as he looked upon the children ravaged by a deadly illness.
He noted the presence of Lt. Commander Banton who stood quietly by. Without shifting his gaze to the Second Officer, Slayd rasped, “Marcus – what happened?”
“Dr. West says it’s Nibo flu,” Banton replied quietly. “He managed to stabilize most of them, but . . .” He did not need to finish. The twenty small body bags gave testimony to the deadly nature of the virus.
“What about the vaccine we delivered? Where’s Goertz?” queried the Captain, his voice tight.
“Goertz is dead, Skipper. According to Ayel, he was killed while taking the vaccine out to the areas that needed it most. Apparently, someone decided to take it from him.”
Slayd’s face was stony, save for a slight tic along his jawline. “Who?”
Banton shook his head. “Ayel doesn’t know.”
Slayd nodded tersely. “Very well. Thank you, Marcus – carry on.” The Captain stepped past the Second Officer and moved into the ward to take in the grim scene. He noticed Dr. West sitting on the floor against one wall, his head lowered and his face drawn and haggard. Slayd approached the CMO and knelt down before him.
“Beastly business, Doctor. Are you alright?”
West nodded absently. “Yes sir. We did what we could, but for twenty of those kids, it just wasn’t enough.”
Slayd patted West’s shoulder. “Not your fault, Lad. Not your fault.”
West merely nodded, too spent to say more. Slayd stood and gestured for Senior Chief Burke to approach. He led her to the far corner of the room.
“Senior Chief, I want you to assemble your sweeper team. I want the person or persons that killed Goertz and stole the flu vaccine. You have 48 hours to search before we leave orbit.”
Burke nodded. “Aye, sir. Parameters?”
“By the book, Senior. If you find a suspect, bring them on the ship for questioning. This is not a seek and destroy mission, understood?”
“Understood,” she replied, though her expression indicated her disappointment. Burke had hoped to personally inflict a great deal of pain and suffering on the perpetrators.
Slayd did not miss the look on Burke’s face. “I want the bloody bastards responsible for this as badly as you, Paula, but let’s get it right. Bring them back alive and intact. Off with you.”
* * *
Stardate 54366.4 (22 May 2377)
USS Dragonfire
In Standard Orbit – Vagabond VI
Holodeck
Brian West and Cyndi Kwan held hands as they silently strolled along the sandy beach as breakers rolled in and washed around their bare feet. The sun was low in the western sky, casting reflections of orange and pink across the clouds.
A fiddler crab scuttled out of their way as tiny seabirds scurried to avoid the frothy waves. The steady breeze brought the tang of salt air to their nostrils. In short, it was a beautiful evening on a lonely stretch of Pacific Ocean beach. One could not wish for a more romantic setting, yet West’s thoughts remained on a fetid, crowded medical ward on the planet below.
Kwan peered at West with concern. “You’re awfully quiet, Brian.”
“Yeah. Sorry I’m not much company.”
“The children that contracted the flu. Is that what’s bothering you?”
West stopped and stared out over the ocean. A pair of seagulls flew by, screeching raucously as they whirled and circled in the sea breeze.
“I never imagined coming across anything like that, Cyndi,” he said. “I suppose I had prepared myself for injured crewmembers, casualties from battle – that sort of thing. But not children – not like what I saw.”
Cyndi came around and faced him. “Brian – don’t forget the children you and your staff saved. If you hadn’t been there, all of those children would have died, not just twenty.”
“I know. I keep telling myself that.” He sighed. “I’m just wondering if I’m really cut out for this.”
She took his face in her hands and forced him to look in her eyes. “Look – I’m new at this too. And some days, most days, I feel pretty overwhelmed. But you’re needed out here, Brian, as much or more than anyone on this ship. Sure, what happened to those poor kids was a terrible tragedy, and I know you must feel awful about it. But you helped, Brian – you were the difference for those surviving children. Without you there, they might have all died!”
He forced a smile. “You’d make a great counselor, Ensign Kwan.”
She slid her arms around him in an embrace, laying her head against his chest. “Well, you’d better get your head straight, Doctor, or I’m going to kick your butt!”
“Maybe not that great of a counselor,” he amended, earning a playful slap on his back.
* * *
Stardate 54367.2 (23 May 2377)
USS Dragonfire
In Standard Orbit – Vagabond VI
Brig
Slayd entered the Brig accompanied by Commander Nor Huren. He turned to the crewman manning the forcefield controls for the individual cells.
“Which one?” he asked.
“Cell three. I’ll lower the field for you, sir” replied the crewman.
Slayd and Nor Huren approached cell three and entered. Inside stood Senior Chief Burke and another crewman, both wearing black battle armor. Slayd noticed a sizeable gray burn mark on Burke’s chest plate, indicating she had taken a hit from an energy weapon. She looked none the worse for wear, save for dark circles under her eyes and an angry scowl on her face.
The Captain followed her gaze to the source of her ire. A lone figure sat in an upright chair, hands manacled to the seat and a dark hood covering the prisoner’s head.
“Is this our culprit?” asked Slayd. His calm tone belied the emotions he felt.
“He’s not the one who killed Goertz,” replied Burke, “but he damn sure knows who did. He just needs some ‘persuading.’” Her voice was tired but angry. Obviously, she did not take kindly to having someone shoot at her.
“You okay, Senior?” asked Nor Huren.
Burke looked momentarily puzzled, then glanced down at her scarred armor. “This? Oh, it’s nothing, Commander. Our big-eared friend's gadget got off a lucky shot, didn’t it ass-hole?”
The hooded prisoner turned slightly in the chair and strained against his restraints, mumbling incoherently.
“Take off the hood,” ordered Slayd.
The second trooper jerked off the hood none too gently, revealing a young Ferengi male who was rather tall for his race. There was a sizeable bruise on his left cheek. The Ferengi blinked painfully against the sudden exposure to light before fixing his gaze on Burke and growling against his gag.
“The gag too,” directed the Captain. The trooper complied and the Ferengi opened and closed his mouth several times, attempting to restore circulation to his face before speaking.
“Who are you?” asked Slayd.
“This is an outrage!” cried the Ferengi. “I have diplomatic immunity. You’ve no right . . .”
“Replace the gag,” said Slayd, with obvious impatience. He turned to Burke as the Ferengi was again reduced to guttural noises. “Report, Senior Chief.”
“It wasn’t too hard to chase down this sack of shit, Skipper. Mr. Goertz had a bunch of friends in that town, even among the scum-bags. It’s amazing what information you can get with a few strips of latinum and a coupla bottles of Orion fire water.”
“No doubt,” replied Slayd, dryly, suppressing a smile.
“Anyway, the info we collected helped us triangulate on this ass . . ., I mean, perp. Seems he’s been making a killing in the pharmaceutical trade, if you take my meaning. A few more strips of latinum gave us his location, so me and the boys decided to drop in unannounced.” She brushed at her damaged armor. “Apparently, our friend is the nervous type. He had some impressive security and surveillance gear – I’m pretty sure it’s Romulan – and he picked up on our approach. We get within twenty meters of his place and up pops a cluster of auto-fire phasers. My boys and I have got pretty good reflexes, so we avoid any casualties, but one blast ricocheted close to me and caught me square in the tits – beggin’ your pardon, Skipper. Well, that pissed me off, so I returned fire. That’s when ‘Ears’ here starts squealing, ‘Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!’ – Apparently his balls aren’t as big as his lobes – beggin’ your pardon. Anyway, Duffy here takes the door and puts the perp’s face into the wall. Duff doesn’t like it when I get shot. Inside we find two cases of the vaccine we delivered a few months back – I double-checked the lot numbers. Ears, here, swears he’s just the middle-man, but he wouldn’t give up the name of who killed Mr. Goertz. We decided to bring him back to the ship, like you ordered, and here we are.”
Slayd nodded, bemused by Burke’s rapid-fire report and colorful language. “Thank you, Senior Chief. Well done. Why don’t you go by sickbay and let Dr. West check you out?”
Burke’s face tinged slightly. “Sir? If it’s all the same to you, I’ll pass. I’m not hurt – really. And I’d just as soon not have Doc West feeling up my boobs. Hell, I’m old enough to be the boy’s mother.”
Slayd cleared his throat while Nor Huren smiled at his discomfiture. “Yes, well . . . never mind then. Thank you, Senior Chief. Please pass along a ‘well-done’ to your team.”
Burke nodded. “Yes sir, I will. Let me know if you need any help grilling ‘Ears.’”
“Most assuredly. Dismissed.”
Burke and Duff exited the cell as the Ferengi continued to glare at Slayd and Nor Huren. The Captain reached for the gag, then paused.
“I will remove this from your mouth, but it will go right back in if you start off with that tripe about diplomatic immunity. We both know that doesn’t carry water in these parts. Are we agreed on that point?”
The prisoner continued to glare at Slayd, but he finally gave a curt nod.
“Very good.” Slayd removed the gag, evoking a fit of couging from the Ferengi.
“That crazy hew-mon female tried to kill me!” he complained.
“By the looks of her armor, I’d say she acted in self-defense. And assaulting a member of the Border Service is a class-A felony, even out here on the Outland Expanse. Now,” Slayd drew up another chair and sat down across from the Ferengi. “Let’s begin with your name, shall we?”
For a moment it seemed that the prisoner was merely going to stare daggers at the two officers. Finally, he said, “Prog.”
Slayd nodded. “Well Mr. Prog, you are what we call a ‘person of interest’ in an investigation we are conducting. What can you tell me about the death of a human named Goertz?”
Prog’s eyes shifted from Slayd to Nor Huren then back to Slayd. “Never heard of him.”
“Really? That’s odd, considering you had in your possession two crates of flu vaccine that we had delivered to him recently. Vaccine that might have prevented the deaths of 20 children, I might add.”
The Ferengi appeared unmoved. “What a shame. That doesn’t alter the fact that I never heard of him.”
“At the moment, you are our lone suspect, Mr. Prog. And until we either find the real culprit or you begin to divulge some useful information, you will remain our guest in this cell. The choice is yours.”
Prog sneered, revealing crooked and broken teeth. “I know Federation law, Hew-mon. You can’t hold me more than 24 of your hours unless you charge me.”
“Easy enough,” interjected Nor Huren. “You are in possession of stolen property – that will hold you for a while.”
Prog rolled his eyes. “You’re kidding, right? This is Vagabond VI. Everything on the planet is either stolen, counterfeit or smuggled in from somewhere else.” He grinned toothily and shook his head. “You’re going to have to do better than that, Rigellian bitch!”
Nor Huren smiled sweetly. “You have no idea.” She looked at Slayd. “Are we done here?”
Slayd stood. “For now.”
Prog maintained his amused scowl as the two officers left the cell and the forcefield reactivated. At the far end of the brig, Slayd folded his arms and sighed.
“Any ideas, Katari?”
The Rigellian smiled. “You remember my sister, Kelesti, don’t you?”
Slayd nodded. “Yes, of course. She’s C.O. of the Pamlico, right?”
“Right. Kelesti told me about an interrogation method that the senior NCO on the Bluefin has used on occasion. It’s supposed to be very effective with Ferengis.”
Slayd lifted an eyebrow. “Oh? And what is involved with this interrogation technique?”
She gave him a wicked grin. “We have some data files of Klingon opera, don’t we?”
* * *