What Really Happened to My Superiors

Summary: A security ensign goes crazy on the Enterprise because he was chosen for a landing party.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Trek: It's not my fault!

What Really Happened to My Superiors

or

Red-Shirt's Revenge

       It all started shortly after we encountered V'Ger. You know, that big alien probe thing that Admiral Kirk supposedly saved the world from. What an egomaniac. Anyway, "Jerk" was still an admiral, Spock was still with us, and that Russian Kirk-Spock wannabe, Chekov, was still head of security, my division. All in all, I can't think of a worse few months.

       Like I said, I'm a security ensign. You know, a red-shirt. Just keep that in mind; it explains everything.

       Well, we'd finally gone where no man had gone before, which made Jerk happy, and there was a woman there waiting for us, which bumped him to ecstatic. He was on her before he'd even seen her face. It was really sickening to watch. He put together a landing party to go meet her, on a potentially dangerous planet. That was fine by me. His mistake was choosing me to go with them; he had to go. It was simply a matter of a single shot to the head with a phaser set on stun. Bye-bye, jerk.      

       Then that green-blooded devil, or the first officer Spock, if you prefer, started snooping around, looking for me. He was dangerous. I almost got caught on that one. I flooded his quarters with carbon monoxide, which I know Vulcans are especially susceptible to, and I thought he was gone. But I made a mistake; I forgot to lock his door. He almost got away. A hint for anyone trying to remove a Vulcan: don't forget that they're as superhuman as they need to be to win almost every time.

       I lived in peace and paranoia for almost a week after that. The stupid Rusky never thought to examine his own department, or maybe he just couldn't bear the shame of even considering one of his own people. Anyway, he never bothered me. Not then, anyway. All that came later.

       The CMO McCoy started his own investigation. He could never have found me out, but I like to be prepared. The truth is, I was starting to like this new game. It's not like I was addicted; no, I could have stopped, but like I said, I like to be prepared. I killed him with his own hypospray, overdosed him on something or other. A lot of people might have called it suicide under other circumstances, but most of them saw right through it. All that counted,anyway.

       The chief engineer, appropriately named

Scotty, was left in charge. He ordered Sulu to take us to a Starbase. Now, I couldn't let that happen, could I? I mean, they would have found me! A blunt instrument to the back of the head for Scotty, behaeding Sulu with his own fencing sword (I honestly don't know what it's called), for he would have noticed my tampering at the helm. I suffocated Uhura, the woman who always manned the communications station. I didn't want her blabbing, if you know what I mean.

       That seemed to take care of everybody, except for my own department head. He was left in charge after my most recent escapade. He's the one who noticed my tampering. It seems that he used to be the navigator. Someone called him the best in the fleet; not much of a distinction, if you ask me. For some reason, I was reluctant to kill him. I think I actually believed I was safe. I was wrong.

20/20 hindsight isn't usually profitable, and it isn't now. He should have been the first person I got, but it's no use crying over spilled milk. He actually found me out, and sent his findings straight to the Starbase. I was caught, but I didn't know any of this until he came to arrest me. I let him get me- well, actually, I didn't have much choice. I wanted to live through the ordeal, but I

could see that he wanted to kill me. It        turns out that his best friend was Sulu, the Asian pilot. In fact, he liked everyone I killed. Poor, poor Chekov. I wish I had killed the Jap first.

       He was actually the hardest to get. I could see that none of my other methods would work on him. I considered a bomb, but I had nothing to build one with. I honestly don't know what kept him from killing me. It sure wasn't the threat of consequences. He wouldn't have cared. There was no one to order him not to, either; even as a lowly lieutenant, he was the ranking officer on the ship. He could have said I attacked him. That's what I would've done.

       I ended up poisoning him with some cyclidic acid I'd bought from an Orion trader some years before. It took him hours to die, and that's what he deserved. No one should be allowed to be smarter than me. He coughed up blood, and I could see that he was in incredible agony. Ohh, it was refreshing to see that!

       But it was all for nothing. I was caught anyway. In a way, I got bested by a dead man. If he weren't dead already, I'd kill him.

       I'm sure I'll get off, though. I mean, the Admiral wanted me on a landing party to a strange planet. It was self-defense.

Ensign Richard Tanzier, USS Enterprise 

Presently of Starbase Sixteen, Detention Cell

~~~

          "That's a bloody shame," said one mortician. "The best damned crew in the galaxy, killed by a nutter."

          The other nodded, looking down at the seven bodies. Phaser shot to the head. Carbon monoxide poisoning. Overdose of a common tranquilizer. Head trauma. Decapitation. Asphyxiation. Cyclidic acid poisoning, all of his organs dissolved from the inside out. They'd both read the signed confession, and agreed that that was exactly what had happened to the officers.

          "D'ya think 'e'll get off?"

          "Are you a nutter? 'E's a psycho. 'Ow'd he ever get into the Fleet, that's what I wonder. Killed all of 'is commanding officers, 'e did. Real nutter. Really ingenious, though, 'ow 'e did it. Different way fer all of 'em. 'E'll get stuck in some correctional facility somewhere, an' get released when they think 'e won't kill no one else. No punishment. That's what it is, really; a bloody shame."

          The other one nodded.

          It really was a bloody shame.

by L. Desirae Tucker

For TOS haters everywhere, but specially for Stephen, "Haystck", who gave me the inspiration. Oh, BTW, I actually like TOS.