Taking up the entire forward end of the lab was an impressive astrometric station. Apollo recognized it as something similar to the room Seven of Nine had worked in on Voyager. Apparently, Starfleet had been putting her notes to good use since the first time they contacted them.
The wall on the port side was devoted to the organic sciences, such as horticulture. The starboard side of the lab, closer to the door, covered the more technical aspects. Sam was on the left side, studying the piece of hull plating, which was suspended in a stasis field. Dr. Kellara was looking over her shoulder. It made sense, considering this was where Kellara spent time when there was no emergency in Sickbay to attend to. Organic sciences also covered medical science, so this was where she did most of her research.
On the right side of the room, Scotty and Circe were busy poring through the logs of the shuttle. Scotty looked up when he saw Apollo walk into the room. "We have our work cut out for us, Admiral. Whatever explosion this buoy was caught in, it damaged some of the logs. We have to carefully extract them."
Apollo nodded. "Do what you can, Scotty." He silently wished he had Seven here now... she probably would have made short work of the logs. He moved over to where the doctor and his first officer sat... that is, where the first officer sat and the doctor stood. Being a centaur, there weren't too many places she could sit down. "Any luck here?" he asked.
"This is truly amazing," Kellara said. "I've never seen a substance this acidic before." She showed Apollo the container in which the hull plate was brought to the lab. There were signs of slight scoring and pitting in the bottom of the container... a container which was supposedly impervious to corrosion.
"What the hell could have caused it," he said quietly. He looked at his finger, which had by now fully healed.
Kellara shook her head. "We have no idea."
Sam spoke up. "We do know it's organic, though."
Kellara pointed something out on the screen. "Look at this!"
Apollo viewed the screen. On it was an image of the acid, magnified several hundred times. "They almost look like cells. But of what?"
"See how this one cell is attacking others? Indeed, attacking molecules of the hull metal. I was baffled until I realized that it's the same properties witnessed by white corpuscles attacking and destroying foreign particles."
He looked at Kellara, a little shocked. "Are you saying that's blood?!"
"I'm saying that's what it could very likely be. Without knowing where it came from... or who it came from... I can't make any conclusions."
Apollo stared at the screen, watching the green substance devour the hull metal. He was distracted when Scotty said, "Admiral. I think we've managed to get some of the logs straightened out."
He quickly strode over to Scotty. "Let's see it."
Scotty looked a bit sheepish. "Actually, sir, we only managed to get audio. I'm sorry we couldn'a get more."
Circe snorted. "Mr. Scott is being modest. I doubt I could have gotten the same results without his help."
"Yes, he always did like to downplay his importance," the admiral said under his breath. "Can we hear the logs."
"Right away." Scotty fiddled with some controls. "It would seem as though the shuttle only made one log entry."
At first static could only be heard. Then, as Circe cleaned it up a bit, they got a clear entry. ""This is... this Commander Jason Prentice of the starship Gilgamesh. By the time you get this log, it'll be... it'll be too late for me." A groan and heavy breathing could be heard. "But... but it won't be too late... for you. If it is at all possible... do NOT... I repeat, do NOT enter sector 5174. Something horrible has happened there." A grunt. "I don't have... much time left. If by chance you cannot avoid entering that sector... if you come upon my ship... nggg... don't hesitate..." his breathing became labored. "Don't hesitate to destroy it. Please heed my warning. If you board that ship, you'll only doom yourselves......... oh God, it hurts!!!!"
The sound went dead. A shake of Scotty's head told Apollo that was the end of the log. He found was was leaning over Scotty's and Circe's shoulders to listen intently to the message. Now he straightened, realizing that Sam and Kellara had gathered around him so they could also hear the message. The room remained silent until the intercom chime startled them all. "Bridge to Admiral Racer."
"Go ahead," he replied.
"Sir, we found the shuttle. We should reach it in about fifteen minutes."
"We'll be right there. Racer out." As one, they all headed for the bridge. When they reached it, each took their corresponding stations, relieving the officers there. Scotty headed for the engineering station behind Tactical, while Kellara stayed close to the door.
"Status," Apollo ordered.
Xanax swiveled in his seat. "We found the remains of a shuttlecraft on the trajectory taken by the log buoy."
Circe looked at Sam. "Looks like you were right about the shuttle not going very far."
Apollo nodded. "Prepare to take us out of warp," he said. "Come alongside the shuttle as soon as we reach it."
The Highlander glided out of warp speed a few hundred thousand kilometers away from the shuttle. As it sidled up and matched the derelict's drift speed, Xanax brought it up on the screen. Apollo's jaw dropped open. "What the hell...?"
They were looking at half of a shuttle. The front half looked beat up; the rear was gone. Floating close to it were bits of debris. Apollo looked to Circe for analysis. She studied the sensors. "The shuttle appears to have initiated a self-destruct command. However, due to prior damage, the destruction was incomplete."
He didn't dare ask for life signs, but he did ask, "Any sign of organic remains?"
She raised an eyebrow. "As a matter of fact, there is one body on board, human."
"Have it beamed to Sickbay," he said.
"I'll be down there in a moment," Kellara said, getting into the turbolift.
Sam slowly shook her head. "I wonder why he felt so threatened that he had to destroy his shuttle?"
"More importantly," Circe replied, "is there a bigger threat since his shuttle wasn't destroyed as he planned? Shall I have the wreckage beamed into the cargo bay with the log buoy?"
Apollo was about to say yes, but something stopped him. Through the bond, Sam felt his warning senses flare. "Admiral?" she asked.
"No," he answered.
"No?" Scotty asked. "But sir, it may give us a clue as to why he wanted to destroy himself."
They silently waited for him to either confirm or change his order. "I have a very bad feeling about this. If Commander Prentice had a reason for destroying his vessel, then we'd better honor his wishes. Xanax, back us off about forty thousand kilometers." He used the commlink on his chair. "Bridge to Sickbay. Doctor, do you have the commander's remains?"
"I do, Admiral."
"Good. Racer out. Commander Pa'arvalis, lock phasers on the shuttle."
"Admiral, are you sure of this?" Sam asked. The look on his face gave her a reply. It also made her shiver.
"Fire."
An orange shaft of energy leapt from the Highlander. It struck what was left of the shuttle and vaporized it. The crew stood by for further instructions. Apollo looked to each one, studying their faces, taking in their individual reactions. Finally, he said to Scotty, "You wanted to find out more, we'll find out more." He sat down. "Mr. Xanax, set a course for sector 5174, warp five and engage. Commander Pa'arvalis, contact Starfleet and advise them of our current status." He sat back and took deep breaths. Something told him that one way or another, he wasn't going to like what they found there.
When the doors to Sickbay opened, Apollo expected to find it empty. He was surprised to find it wasn't. A crewman was sitting on a biobed, while a nurse was treating him. Apollo recognized him. "Good evening, Lieutenant Bruebaker. What happened to you?"
Bruebaker held a hand to his mustard-clad abdomen. "Lieutenant Colwyn, sir," he said, a little sheepish.
"Is she still making that four-alarm chili?"
Bruebaker grinned broadly. "Yes, sir."
Apollo laughed. "I thought I told her to go easy on that stuff."
"Well, sir, she said it just doesn't taste the same then. I tend to agree with her."
The admiral chuckled. "You'll get no argument from me."
It was another influence from the Delta Quadrant. As soon as the reports from Voyager's EMH, relating their experiences, became known, captains from several different starships encouraged their more culinarily-gifted officers to convert a portion of their lounge into a mess hall. It was inevitable that starships would arrange cook-offs. The Highlander participated in the last one, about five months ago, at Starbase 327. Lieutenant Colwyn beat the other starships hands down with her surprisingly good, and remarkably hot, chili. It wasn't a coincidence that, for the next few days, several crew members from several starships and the starbase reported to their Sickbays with a moderate case of heartburn. In each case, they said it was worth it, though. Apollo smiled at that memory. He himself had partaken of that glorious concoction. If he remembered correctly, he told her it was so good, and so hot, it would "make a Klingon's eyes water."
He found Dr. Kellara back in her office, no doubt poring over her autopsy report. To accommodate her, the normal CMO's desk was replaced by a table about stomach-high, to allow her more comfort. Apollo leaned against this table. "Well, Doctor, what have you found?"
"See for yourself." She motioned him around, and displayed an image of the corpse.
He immediately wished he hadn't been thinking of chili. "Ewwww..."
"Wait, it gets better," she said. "This man didn't die from the explosion."
"No, wait. Let me guess. The man died from apoxia." It was a cop-out answer, since anyone even basically familiar with medicine knows that death is ultimately caused by a lack of oxygen to the internal organs.
She scowled and telegraphed a ploy to step on his foot, which he, of course, deftly avoided. "Very funny. I meant that he was dead before his shuttle blew."
"No doubt from the very large hole in his chest."
"Very good, Sherlock," she replied sarcastically. "We might make a medical examiner out of you yet. But here's something you don't know... the hole was made from the inside."
"What?!?" he exclaimed. "Did decompression do that?"
"I'm not sure. I wouldn't think so... he would have been alive then when the explosion occurred."
"Maybe the shuttle was already exposed to space before it blew. He could've gotten the hole from debris shooting through him."
She shook her head. "It could've been possible, but unlikely. There would have been an entry wound through his back. Also, if he were exposed to space, there would be more damage to his rib cage as his lungs exploded. But they were relatively unharmed... he had no air in his lungs to expand them. We could've examined the shuttle, but someone hastily blew it up."
"Oops. Hehe." He put a hand behind his head in embarrassment.
"Oops," she said, scowling. "Fortunately, we don't need the shuttle. Upon further examination, I noticed a peculiar residue inside Prentice's chest cavity and around the wound."
He was puzzled, and raised an eyebrow to indicate it. "What kind of residue?"
"I don't exactly know. But I can tell you one thing... it didn't come from him. The DNA signature is totally wrong."
Apollo shuddered. "I don't like the sound of that. We have to find out what happened."
Kellara shook her head. "I don't see how, without the shuttle..."
"We don't need the shuttle." Seeing her puzzled expression, he added, "I'm asking the ship to sector 5174."
Now it was her turn to looked shocked. "Are you sure that's wise, given that log entry?"
"We're going there because of that log entry. We have to find out what happened to the Gilgamesh."
"But what about Mr. Nash?"
Apollo began pacing. "I haven't forgotten our passenger. But Starfleet told me they were treating that log entry as a type of distress signal. And answering distress signals are a high priority for Starfleet vessels."
"I know. I just hope it doesn't turn out to be a mistake."
He looked at her worried expression for a moment. "Well, we'll have three days to think about that. That's how long it'll take us to get there." He turned to leave. "Do whatever else you can here, Doctor. And pray that more won't have to be done." He walked out into Sickbay. Before leaving, he noted that Bruebaker had been released; now Sickbay truly was empty of patients. He only hoped that it would stay that way.
~ * ~
By the time he returned to his quarters, Sam was already there, in bed, seemingly asleep. Since Apollo had no use for the lights - he produced his own comfortable glow - he undressed in the relative dark and slid into bed beside her. She turned and placed her arms around him. "Hi," she whispered.
"Hi," he whispered back. "I thought you were asleep." He once asked her why they whispered when they were the only two people in the quarters. She had responded that it just felt right. He didn't dispute it.
"Almost." She snuggled into him. He kissed her forehead and stroked her hair, a motion he could never get tired of doing. "So, do you still think we should be going there?"
"Starfleet feels it should be handled as a ship in distress."
They laid there, her face against his chest. Finally, she said, "Maybe some distress signals shouldn't be answered."
He looked at her serious face, bathed in the soft glow of his eyes. Suddenly she looked very vulnerable. He wanted to just wrap her up in his arms, protect her from the dangers of the galaxy, tell her that everything would be just fine.
She said all that and more by moving up and gently kissing him. As their kisses grew intense and she moved on top of him, he realized that she wasn't all that vulnerable... but that didn't stop him from loving her any less. After their love had been consummated, they snuggled into each other, and peacefully fell asleep.