Chapter 11
In under a minute, I heard footsteps running in the corridor in my direction. Crewman Devereaux and a female security crewmen, rounded the curve and skidded to a halt when they spotted the late, lamented Lt. Rhys-Davies.
"Mother of God!" whispered Devereaux, as he crossed himself. He looked up at me. "Captain? You okay?" he asked in his soft, Cajun accent. The other crewman kept her phaser up, sweeping it around for some unknown threat.
"Yeah, I'm okay, but someone took a shot at me in Auxiliary Control. Probably the same one who shot the Lieutenant."
Lt. Erdon trotted up at that point, her cheeks flushed with exertion. She also carried a phaser. Her features knotted in a frown when she saw the body on the deck. "Aw, damn!" she muttered. She looked at me with a quizzical expression. "Did you see who did it?"
I shook my head and recounted the attack. "Never saw who did it. They flipped off the lights before firing." I frowned at that. "Which is probably why I'm alive. They could have easily shot me without my ever knowing it. When the lights went out, the hairs went up on my neck and I hit the deck. That's when someone shot out the panel where I was working."
Erdon knelt down and looked at the disruptor lying by the corpse.
"That would be mine," I said, eliciting a surprised look from Erdon.
Devereaux looked uncomfortable. "Uh, sir? We'll have to bag that for evidence and get a formal statement from you."
I nodded. "Do what you have to do. And while you're at it, check the locks to my cabin - see if someone's tampered with them. Somehow, someone got into my quarters to get that disruptor." I didn't mention that I thought that mine would be the only fingerprints on the disruptor. No point in giving Devereaux any thoughts of clamping me in irons.
Mutt showed up with a medi-kit and a shocked look on his face. "Whoa!" he said, sounding like someone had knocked the wind out of him. He looked at me then at Erdon. "What do you want me to do?"
I felt sorry for the kid. He was more used to dispensing bandaids and fixing hang-nails than dealing with corpses. Lt. Erdon answered first.
"Get him bagged, tagged and in the main stasis chamber 'til we can get back to the station."
Mutt knelt down by the corpse and checked for a pulse. Considering that I could see the deck through the man's chest, I thought it to be a rather futile gesture. Mutt continued a perfunctory examination of the body, then looked up.
"There's something in his right hand."
Erdon, Devereaux and I all peered down where Mutt was pointing. Sure enough, a small piece of printed flimsy was clutched in his fist. Mutt pulled a pair of tweezers from his medi-kit and pulled it out. A series of numbers and letters were printed on it.
Erdon looked up at me. "It's a prefix code! I'd bet my ass that it's the core access code."
Tempting as it was, I decided not to take the bet. "You're probably right. Check it out - see if it works."
Devereaux cleared his throat. He still looked very uneasy.
We looked up at him.
"Uh, sirs? Protocol says that the officer in charge of security should conduct all internal investigations and maintain the chain of evidence."
"Okay," I said. "Who's over security?"
As one, Erdon, Mutt and Devereaux all looked down at the still form of Rhys-Davies.
"Don't tell me," I sighed.
* * *
Mutt and the security detail got Rhys-Davies' body delivered to cold storage. Erdon and I headed for the bridge.
"So, Rhys-Davies was involved in this," stated Erdon.
"So it would seem," I mused. " 'Course, whoever shot him could have easily put the flimsy in his hand." This was starting to feel like something from a cheap mystery novel. All I needed was a trench coat, a cheap cigar and a beautiful dame. Well, Brooks Erdon certainly qualified for that last part.
"That's true," she acknowledged, "but it doesn't explain what he was doing down there. He was supposed to be on the bridge."
"I guess we'll just have to ask," I said as the lift doors opened onto the bridge.
Erdon moved to Ops as I went to the vacant center seat. Lt. M'Roal was at her station and Ensign Bateson was at the helm.
"Mr. Bateson, why are you on the bridge? It's not your duty shift," I challenged.
Bateson turned, a look of surprise on his face. "Sir? Lt. Rhys-Davies called me to relieve him. He said that you had called him to meet him in Auxiliary Control."
He seemed genuinely surprised by my question and I was inclined to believe him. But the paranoia demon was squeezing my insides like a python, so I wasn't ready to accept his word just yet.
"Lt. M'Roal, can you verify that?" It's hard to read a Caitian's facial features, but I think she was startled by my question.
"No sirr. The Lieutenant did contact Ensign Bateson - that I can confirrm, but my comm log shows no rrecord that he rreceived any communication frrom you."
I felt a degree of vindication at hearing that. So Rhys-Davies did lie to Bateson. How many other ways had he deceived us? "Where was the Lieutenant stationed before he left the bridge?"
"He was at Ops."
Erdon was way ahead of me. She called up the recent internal sensor logs. A satisfied smirk formed on her face. "He was scanning deck six," she announced.
Deck six - Auxiliary Control. Right where Erdon and I had been talking. Damn! he had probably heard everything we had said!
"That still doesn't explain who killed him. Or why someone went to the trouble of trying to implicate me!" I felt like we were going in circles while someone on board was screwing around with us. A possibility flickered into my mind. The process of elimination was culling the potential suspects. As unlikely as it seemed, I thought I knew who the culprit might be. I looked up at Erdon, a cold smile forming on my face.
"I think I know who our killer is!"
My moment of dramatic triumph was cut short when the proximity alert light on the helm console began to flash and beep, demanding our attention.
"The shields just activated!" announced Bateson. "Contact, bearing 101 mark 23 and closing fast."
"On screen!" I ordered, "Get me an I.D. on that ship!"
Erdon and Bateson both turned to their boards as did M'Roal. I settled back in the center seat, trying to get my head into tactical mode. The image on the screen told me what I needed to know before the others could get a sensor reading. The telltale, spinning shape of the Orion ship grew rapidly on the screen.
"Well, this saves us the trouble of looking for them," I said. "Red Alert, if you please, Mr. M'Roal."
* * *
In under a minute, I heard footsteps running in the corridor in my direction. Crewman Devereaux and a female security crewmen, rounded the curve and skidded to a halt when they spotted the late, lamented Lt. Rhys-Davies.
"Mother of God!" whispered Devereaux, as he crossed himself. He looked up at me. "Captain? You okay?" he asked in his soft, Cajun accent. The other crewman kept her phaser up, sweeping it around for some unknown threat.
"Yeah, I'm okay, but someone took a shot at me in Auxiliary Control. Probably the same one who shot the Lieutenant."
Lt. Erdon trotted up at that point, her cheeks flushed with exertion. She also carried a phaser. Her features knotted in a frown when she saw the body on the deck. "Aw, damn!" she muttered. She looked at me with a quizzical expression. "Did you see who did it?"
I shook my head and recounted the attack. "Never saw who did it. They flipped off the lights before firing." I frowned at that. "Which is probably why I'm alive. They could have easily shot me without my ever knowing it. When the lights went out, the hairs went up on my neck and I hit the deck. That's when someone shot out the panel where I was working."
Erdon knelt down and looked at the disruptor lying by the corpse.
"That would be mine," I said, eliciting a surprised look from Erdon.
Devereaux looked uncomfortable. "Uh, sir? We'll have to bag that for evidence and get a formal statement from you."
I nodded. "Do what you have to do. And while you're at it, check the locks to my cabin - see if someone's tampered with them. Somehow, someone got into my quarters to get that disruptor." I didn't mention that I thought that mine would be the only fingerprints on the disruptor. No point in giving Devereaux any thoughts of clamping me in irons.
Mutt showed up with a medi-kit and a shocked look on his face. "Whoa!" he said, sounding like someone had knocked the wind out of him. He looked at me then at Erdon. "What do you want me to do?"
I felt sorry for the kid. He was more used to dispensing bandaids and fixing hang-nails than dealing with corpses. Lt. Erdon answered first.
"Get him bagged, tagged and in the main stasis chamber 'til we can get back to the station."
Mutt knelt down by the corpse and checked for a pulse. Considering that I could see the deck through the man's chest, I thought it to be a rather futile gesture. Mutt continued a perfunctory examination of the body, then looked up.
"There's something in his right hand."
Erdon, Devereaux and I all peered down where Mutt was pointing. Sure enough, a small piece of printed flimsy was clutched in his fist. Mutt pulled a pair of tweezers from his medi-kit and pulled it out. A series of numbers and letters were printed on it.
Erdon looked up at me. "It's a prefix code! I'd bet my ass that it's the core access code."
Tempting as it was, I decided not to take the bet. "You're probably right. Check it out - see if it works."
Devereaux cleared his throat. He still looked very uneasy.
We looked up at him.
"Uh, sirs? Protocol says that the officer in charge of security should conduct all internal investigations and maintain the chain of evidence."
"Okay," I said. "Who's over security?"
As one, Erdon, Mutt and Devereaux all looked down at the still form of Rhys-Davies.
"Don't tell me," I sighed.
* * *
Mutt and the security detail got Rhys-Davies' body delivered to cold storage. Erdon and I headed for the bridge.
"So, Rhys-Davies was involved in this," stated Erdon.
"So it would seem," I mused. " 'Course, whoever shot him could have easily put the flimsy in his hand." This was starting to feel like something from a cheap mystery novel. All I needed was a trench coat, a cheap cigar and a beautiful dame. Well, Brooks Erdon certainly qualified for that last part.
"That's true," she acknowledged, "but it doesn't explain what he was doing down there. He was supposed to be on the bridge."
"I guess we'll just have to ask," I said as the lift doors opened onto the bridge.
Erdon moved to Ops as I went to the vacant center seat. Lt. M'Roal was at her station and Ensign Bateson was at the helm.
"Mr. Bateson, why are you on the bridge? It's not your duty shift," I challenged.
Bateson turned, a look of surprise on his face. "Sir? Lt. Rhys-Davies called me to relieve him. He said that you had called him to meet him in Auxiliary Control."
He seemed genuinely surprised by my question and I was inclined to believe him. But the paranoia demon was squeezing my insides like a python, so I wasn't ready to accept his word just yet.
"Lt. M'Roal, can you verify that?" It's hard to read a Caitian's facial features, but I think she was startled by my question.
"No sirr. The Lieutenant did contact Ensign Bateson - that I can confirrm, but my comm log shows no rrecord that he rreceived any communication frrom you."
I felt a degree of vindication at hearing that. So Rhys-Davies did lie to Bateson. How many other ways had he deceived us? "Where was the Lieutenant stationed before he left the bridge?"
"He was at Ops."
Erdon was way ahead of me. She called up the recent internal sensor logs. A satisfied smirk formed on her face. "He was scanning deck six," she announced.
Deck six - Auxiliary Control. Right where Erdon and I had been talking. Damn! he had probably heard everything we had said!
"That still doesn't explain who killed him. Or why someone went to the trouble of trying to implicate me!" I felt like we were going in circles while someone on board was screwing around with us. A possibility flickered into my mind. The process of elimination was culling the potential suspects. As unlikely as it seemed, I thought I knew who the culprit might be. I looked up at Erdon, a cold smile forming on my face.
"I think I know who our killer is!"
My moment of dramatic triumph was cut short when the proximity alert light on the helm console began to flash and beep, demanding our attention.
"The shields just activated!" announced Bateson. "Contact, bearing 101 mark 23 and closing fast."
"On screen!" I ordered, "Get me an I.D. on that ship!"
Erdon and Bateson both turned to their boards as did M'Roal. I settled back in the center seat, trying to get my head into tactical mode. The image on the screen told me what I needed to know before the others could get a sensor reading. The telltale, spinning shape of the Orion ship grew rapidly on the screen.
"Well, this saves us the trouble of looking for them," I said. "Red Alert, if you please, Mr. M'Roal."
* * *
I thought Farmingham fell under the radar screen enough where he wouldn't be an obvious suspect.
Stay tuned . . .
