DEGUELLO - Chapter 20
by Trish Bennett
Admiral Fitzpatrick had been sitting at his desk for hours it seemed, staring at the report cartridge before him. Even so, he hadn't the vaguest idea what it said.
It had been an incredibly difficult week. And by all indications, it was going to get worse before it got better.
Starfleet had nearly lost one of its most valued commanders, and another high-profile officer now faced court martial proceedings. His crime? An unrelenting devotion to his commanding officer.
This situation was spiraling quickly out of control, and Fitzpatrick had only himself to blame. He had to get a grip on this before it all came crashing down around him.
"Admiral?"
The voice nearly made him jump. Fitzpatrick looked up into the concerned face of his aide, Lieutenant Angela Ferrell.
"Sorry," he said. "I didn't hear you come in."
"Obviously," she replied. "You looked like you were a million light years away." She studied him closely as she moved to seat herself in the chair in front of his desk. "What's wrong? Besides the obvious, I mean..."
The Admiral sighed. How could he possibly narrow it down to a single concern? "I don't know," he said at last. "A lot of things. Jim Kirk, for one."
"I assume he's not taking this very well."
"I have no idea," Fitzpatrick said with a shrug. "I haven't been able to talk to him since Spock's arrest."
"You mean he's avoiding you?" she said, surprised. "That doesn't sound like the Jim Kirk I know."
"McCoy says he's been extremely agitated since he heard about the court martial, and that it's affecting his recovery. He says he has Kirk under sedation."
Ferrell arched a suspicious eyebrow. "For two days?"
"You don't believe it either?"
Ferrell shrugged. "I think you're forgetting your own first rule when dealing with Captain Kirk. If it doesn't feel quite right, odds are it probably isn't."
"I know," the Admiral confessed, rubbing his tired eyes. "But what could he be doing aboard the Enterprise that he wouldn't want me to..." His voice trailed off as a thought struck him, and he looked his aide in the eye. "Unless he's not aboard the Enterprise."
"He couldn't be on the station," she said. "Let's face it...he doesn't exactly blend into a crowd."
Fitzpatrick tried to ignore the clenching in his chest as he reached to adjust his computer monitor. "Computer," he said.
"Working," came the flat, feminine monotone.
"Give me a listing of every departure from this station over the past forty-eight hours. I also want the detailed flight plans of each vessel."
The computer whirred and clicked as it complied with his request.
"You don't think he left?" Ferrell said with mild disbelief. "Where would he go?"
"Completed," the computer announced. Fitzpatrick ignored his aide's question as he studied the viewscreen.
"The Dhamad'Ri..." he muttered finally, then glanced up at the Lieutenant across the desk. "Isn't that the Andorian merchant ship?"
She nodded quickly.
"I just saw the Andorian Captain in the lounge last night," Fitzpatrick said.
"So?"
"According to the logs, his ship left here a day and a half ago." Fitzpatrick's mind was racing. What the hell did Kirk think he was doing?
"Do you want me to contact the Enterprise?" Ferrell offered.
"No," the Admiral replied thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair. "I have a better idea..."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Leonard McCoy entered the turbolift at Deck Seven and reached immediately for the hand control. "Bridge," he muttered, bracing himself as the lift began its smooth ascent to the Enterprise's command center.
The Captain had been right about his helmsman. Sulu had managed to acquire a ship in record time for their clandestine voyage to Organia. That was one of the advantages, McCoy decided, of being stuck at a Federation starbase. There was never a shortage of scouts and traders eager to turn a quick credit.
But that was more than a day ago, and Kirk was still hours away from his destination. And unfortunately, time was the one thing McCoy was quickly running out of.
The turbolift doors opened onto the bridge, and the Doctor stepped onto the deck. At first glance, it appeared to be business as usual. The crew were at their stations, keeping themselves busy with their assigned tasks.
But upon closer examination, he realized that was exactly all they were doing...keeping themselves busy. Better to run routine diagnostics and perform minor system adjustments than sit idly by and dwell on the current predicament.
McCoy moved down the step to the center of the bridge where Montgomery Scott was seated in the command chair. The Scotsman looked up from the report cartridge in his hand with an expression of weary concern.
"I don't think I can put Fitzpatrick off much longer," the Doctor said without amenity. "He's been wanting to talk to Jim all day."
"What did you tell him?"
"That I had him sedated," McCoy said ruefully. "But I know if I tell him that one more time, he'll have my medical license revoked."
Scott offered him a helpless shrug. "You just have to stall him as long as you can, Doctor. I don't know what else we can do."
"That's easy for you to say. I'm surprised he hasn't decided to come aboard yet."
"Captain Kirk will be at Organia by morning," Scott said reassuringly. "Then..."
"Then what?" McCoy snapped. "You know, Scotty, he's expecting to find some kind of miracle solution to this mess by going to Organia, but I honestly don't know what he expects to find. I mean, if he's allowed anywhere near the planet, and if the Organians will even talk to him once he's there, and if they do have some earth-shattering piece of information that might save Spock from the gallows, there's still no guarantee that Starfleet will even listen to it, much less care."
Scott had no time to respond to the Doctor's tirade. At that moment, the turbolift doors opened, and Pavel Chekov rushed through them onto the bridge. He appeared agitated and out of breath, but calmed himself enough to finally speak.
"Mr. Scott," he said, his thick Russian accent even more pronounced than usual. "We have to contact the Captain!"
Scott rose from the command chair swiftly as McCoy stepped around him in alarm.
"Chekov, what is it?" McCoy asked. "What's wrong?"
"Mr. Spock's trial..." he spouted, trying valiantly to catch his breath. "They were waiting for Captain Martinez to make up the members of the court...but he made it ahead of schedule. He's here...and the trial has been moved up. It's tomorrow morning, Sir. 0900 hours."
McCoy turned to Scott. "That must be why the Admiral's been wanting to talk to Jim. He wants to break the news himself."
Scott hesitated only a moment before moving up the step to Uhura's console. "Lieutenant Uhura," he said. "Hail the Captain."
"Yes, Mr. Scott." Her slender fingers scrambled at the controls.
"Enterprise to Captain Kirk," she said. "Enterprise to Captain Kirk. Come in, please."
Scott leaned closer to Uhura. "Are you sure Station Operations won't detect this?"
Uhura offered him an impish grin. "Not in this lifetime, Mr. Scott," she purred. "I guarantee it."
Scott exchanged an amused glance with McCoy before the Captain's voice filtered through the speaker.
"Kirk here. Go ahead, Enterprise."
"Scott here, Captain. We have a problem."
The Captain's voice was apprehensive. "What is it?"
"Sir, the trial date has been changed," Scott reported. "It's tomorrow morning. 0900 hours."
"What?" Kirk's voice was nearly a whisper.
"Jim," McCoy said, "Admiral Fitzpatrick's been chomping at the bit to talk to you all day. That's got to be what it's about."
"Damn!" McCoy could almost hear the wheels turning in the Captain's mind. "Uhura, are you there?"
"Yes, Sir," she said.
"Can you patch me through to the Admiral's office?"
"But Captain..." Scott protested. "The Admiral will be expecting visual communication, won't he?"
There was a brief pause from the speaker. "Can't be helped," Kirk said at last. "Visual communications are down. Complete system overhaul."
Scott's brow furrowed as he glanced at the Lieutenant beside him. "Are they?"
Uhura grinned. "They will be," she said smugly. "Give me a minute."
"Oh, yeah," McCoy mumbled, shaking his head. "No doubt about it. We're all going to prison...every last one of us."
"Sorry, Doctor," came Kirk's voice from the speaker. "I didn't quite read that. Could you repeat?"
"Just do me a favor," McCoy snapped grumpily. "I told Fitzpatrick I had you sedated, so...act sleepy or something, would you?"
There was a grim chuckle from the speaker. "At this point, Bones, it wouldn't be much of a stretch."
"Captain," Uhura said, "I have Admiral Fitzpatrick standing by."
"Go ahead, Lieutenant."
After a moment, the sound of Fitzpatrick's voice filtered through the speaker. "Fitzpatrick here. Go ahead, Enterprise."
"Admiral," came Kirk's acknowledgement. "This is Kirk."
"Jim..." Fitzpatrick said with mild surprise. "I have to admit, I was starting to worry about you."
"Unnecessary, Admiral. I'm fine."
There was a brief pause from the speaker. "What's the problem with communications?" the Admiral said. "I can't seem to get visual."
"Lieutenant Uhura is working on it, Sir...complete overhaul." Kirk quickly changed the subject. "Doctor McCoy tells me you've been trying to reach me."
"Yes." The Admiral's voice softened slightly. "I wanted to tell you this before you heard it from anyone else. The panel of jurists have been assembled ahead of schedule. We've decided to move up the trial date."
There was a long silence from the speaker, finally broken by Kirk's heavy sigh. "When?"
"Tomorrow morning...0900."
"Tomorrow morning?" Kirk exclaimed, as if it were news to him.
"Jim..." Fitzpatrick exhaled an audible breath. "Everyone's already here. Spock has no intention of defending himself. I don't see the need to prolong this any more than absolutely necessary. I think it would be best for everyone concerned..."
"And easier to railroad him into the stockade..." Kirk interjected coldly.
"Is that what you think I'm doing?" Fitzpatrick said.
"I don't know anymore, Admiral. You tell me."
"Jim, you're not making this any easier..."
"I have no intention of making this easy, Admiral," Kirk snapped. "Sorry to disappoint you."
It was apparent, even without seeing him, that Fitzpatrick was trying very hard to hold his tongue. "I could try to explain this again, Captain, but it's obvious I would just be wasting my breath. I just thought you would like to hear it from me."
He waited for a response, but Kirk remained stubbornly silent. When the Admiral spoke again, his voice was sullen. "Fitzpatrick out."
Uhura moved swiftly to deactivate the patch and retrieve the Captain's independent signal.
"So, what do we do now?" McCoy said. "You won't even reach Organia until morning."
"I know," Kirk replied quietly. "And worse yet, Spock has no intention of defending himself, so it won't be a very long trial."
McCoy looked quickly into the faces of his cohorts, then back toward the speaker. "Stall?"
"Big," Kirk said. "Big stall. Sulu, can you give us any more speed?"
Sulu's voice sounded distant over the speaker, but it was readable. "We're already pushing it to the limit, Captain. I don't think I could coax another ounce of power out of her."
The Captain swore lightly under his breath. "Bones...Scotty...do whatever you have to, but don't let that trial start until you hear from me. Understood?"
"Aye, Captain," Scott said ruefully.
"We'll do our best, Jim," McCoy said, but he honestly had no idea how they would manage it.
"I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Kirk out."
McCoy heard the click of the severed connection, then looked back into the Engineer's weary face.
"Break out your tap shoes, Mr. Scott," he said. "The show is about to begin."
by Trish Bennett
Admiral Fitzpatrick had been sitting at his desk for hours it seemed, staring at the report cartridge before him. Even so, he hadn't the vaguest idea what it said.
It had been an incredibly difficult week. And by all indications, it was going to get worse before it got better.
Starfleet had nearly lost one of its most valued commanders, and another high-profile officer now faced court martial proceedings. His crime? An unrelenting devotion to his commanding officer.
This situation was spiraling quickly out of control, and Fitzpatrick had only himself to blame. He had to get a grip on this before it all came crashing down around him.
"Admiral?"
The voice nearly made him jump. Fitzpatrick looked up into the concerned face of his aide, Lieutenant Angela Ferrell.
"Sorry," he said. "I didn't hear you come in."
"Obviously," she replied. "You looked like you were a million light years away." She studied him closely as she moved to seat herself in the chair in front of his desk. "What's wrong? Besides the obvious, I mean..."
The Admiral sighed. How could he possibly narrow it down to a single concern? "I don't know," he said at last. "A lot of things. Jim Kirk, for one."
"I assume he's not taking this very well."
"I have no idea," Fitzpatrick said with a shrug. "I haven't been able to talk to him since Spock's arrest."
"You mean he's avoiding you?" she said, surprised. "That doesn't sound like the Jim Kirk I know."
"McCoy says he's been extremely agitated since he heard about the court martial, and that it's affecting his recovery. He says he has Kirk under sedation."
Ferrell arched a suspicious eyebrow. "For two days?"
"You don't believe it either?"
Ferrell shrugged. "I think you're forgetting your own first rule when dealing with Captain Kirk. If it doesn't feel quite right, odds are it probably isn't."
"I know," the Admiral confessed, rubbing his tired eyes. "But what could he be doing aboard the Enterprise that he wouldn't want me to..." His voice trailed off as a thought struck him, and he looked his aide in the eye. "Unless he's not aboard the Enterprise."
"He couldn't be on the station," she said. "Let's face it...he doesn't exactly blend into a crowd."
Fitzpatrick tried to ignore the clenching in his chest as he reached to adjust his computer monitor. "Computer," he said.
"Working," came the flat, feminine monotone.
"Give me a listing of every departure from this station over the past forty-eight hours. I also want the detailed flight plans of each vessel."
The computer whirred and clicked as it complied with his request.
"You don't think he left?" Ferrell said with mild disbelief. "Where would he go?"
"Completed," the computer announced. Fitzpatrick ignored his aide's question as he studied the viewscreen.
"The Dhamad'Ri..." he muttered finally, then glanced up at the Lieutenant across the desk. "Isn't that the Andorian merchant ship?"
She nodded quickly.
"I just saw the Andorian Captain in the lounge last night," Fitzpatrick said.
"So?"
"According to the logs, his ship left here a day and a half ago." Fitzpatrick's mind was racing. What the hell did Kirk think he was doing?
"Do you want me to contact the Enterprise?" Ferrell offered.
"No," the Admiral replied thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair. "I have a better idea..."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Leonard McCoy entered the turbolift at Deck Seven and reached immediately for the hand control. "Bridge," he muttered, bracing himself as the lift began its smooth ascent to the Enterprise's command center.
The Captain had been right about his helmsman. Sulu had managed to acquire a ship in record time for their clandestine voyage to Organia. That was one of the advantages, McCoy decided, of being stuck at a Federation starbase. There was never a shortage of scouts and traders eager to turn a quick credit.
But that was more than a day ago, and Kirk was still hours away from his destination. And unfortunately, time was the one thing McCoy was quickly running out of.
The turbolift doors opened onto the bridge, and the Doctor stepped onto the deck. At first glance, it appeared to be business as usual. The crew were at their stations, keeping themselves busy with their assigned tasks.
But upon closer examination, he realized that was exactly all they were doing...keeping themselves busy. Better to run routine diagnostics and perform minor system adjustments than sit idly by and dwell on the current predicament.
McCoy moved down the step to the center of the bridge where Montgomery Scott was seated in the command chair. The Scotsman looked up from the report cartridge in his hand with an expression of weary concern.
"I don't think I can put Fitzpatrick off much longer," the Doctor said without amenity. "He's been wanting to talk to Jim all day."
"What did you tell him?"
"That I had him sedated," McCoy said ruefully. "But I know if I tell him that one more time, he'll have my medical license revoked."
Scott offered him a helpless shrug. "You just have to stall him as long as you can, Doctor. I don't know what else we can do."
"That's easy for you to say. I'm surprised he hasn't decided to come aboard yet."
"Captain Kirk will be at Organia by morning," Scott said reassuringly. "Then..."
"Then what?" McCoy snapped. "You know, Scotty, he's expecting to find some kind of miracle solution to this mess by going to Organia, but I honestly don't know what he expects to find. I mean, if he's allowed anywhere near the planet, and if the Organians will even talk to him once he's there, and if they do have some earth-shattering piece of information that might save Spock from the gallows, there's still no guarantee that Starfleet will even listen to it, much less care."
Scott had no time to respond to the Doctor's tirade. At that moment, the turbolift doors opened, and Pavel Chekov rushed through them onto the bridge. He appeared agitated and out of breath, but calmed himself enough to finally speak.
"Mr. Scott," he said, his thick Russian accent even more pronounced than usual. "We have to contact the Captain!"
Scott rose from the command chair swiftly as McCoy stepped around him in alarm.
"Chekov, what is it?" McCoy asked. "What's wrong?"
"Mr. Spock's trial..." he spouted, trying valiantly to catch his breath. "They were waiting for Captain Martinez to make up the members of the court...but he made it ahead of schedule. He's here...and the trial has been moved up. It's tomorrow morning, Sir. 0900 hours."
McCoy turned to Scott. "That must be why the Admiral's been wanting to talk to Jim. He wants to break the news himself."
Scott hesitated only a moment before moving up the step to Uhura's console. "Lieutenant Uhura," he said. "Hail the Captain."
"Yes, Mr. Scott." Her slender fingers scrambled at the controls.
"Enterprise to Captain Kirk," she said. "Enterprise to Captain Kirk. Come in, please."
Scott leaned closer to Uhura. "Are you sure Station Operations won't detect this?"
Uhura offered him an impish grin. "Not in this lifetime, Mr. Scott," she purred. "I guarantee it."
Scott exchanged an amused glance with McCoy before the Captain's voice filtered through the speaker.
"Kirk here. Go ahead, Enterprise."
"Scott here, Captain. We have a problem."
The Captain's voice was apprehensive. "What is it?"
"Sir, the trial date has been changed," Scott reported. "It's tomorrow morning. 0900 hours."
"What?" Kirk's voice was nearly a whisper.
"Jim," McCoy said, "Admiral Fitzpatrick's been chomping at the bit to talk to you all day. That's got to be what it's about."
"Damn!" McCoy could almost hear the wheels turning in the Captain's mind. "Uhura, are you there?"
"Yes, Sir," she said.
"Can you patch me through to the Admiral's office?"
"But Captain..." Scott protested. "The Admiral will be expecting visual communication, won't he?"
There was a brief pause from the speaker. "Can't be helped," Kirk said at last. "Visual communications are down. Complete system overhaul."
Scott's brow furrowed as he glanced at the Lieutenant beside him. "Are they?"
Uhura grinned. "They will be," she said smugly. "Give me a minute."
"Oh, yeah," McCoy mumbled, shaking his head. "No doubt about it. We're all going to prison...every last one of us."
"Sorry, Doctor," came Kirk's voice from the speaker. "I didn't quite read that. Could you repeat?"
"Just do me a favor," McCoy snapped grumpily. "I told Fitzpatrick I had you sedated, so...act sleepy or something, would you?"
There was a grim chuckle from the speaker. "At this point, Bones, it wouldn't be much of a stretch."
"Captain," Uhura said, "I have Admiral Fitzpatrick standing by."
"Go ahead, Lieutenant."
After a moment, the sound of Fitzpatrick's voice filtered through the speaker. "Fitzpatrick here. Go ahead, Enterprise."
"Admiral," came Kirk's acknowledgement. "This is Kirk."
"Jim..." Fitzpatrick said with mild surprise. "I have to admit, I was starting to worry about you."
"Unnecessary, Admiral. I'm fine."
There was a brief pause from the speaker. "What's the problem with communications?" the Admiral said. "I can't seem to get visual."
"Lieutenant Uhura is working on it, Sir...complete overhaul." Kirk quickly changed the subject. "Doctor McCoy tells me you've been trying to reach me."
"Yes." The Admiral's voice softened slightly. "I wanted to tell you this before you heard it from anyone else. The panel of jurists have been assembled ahead of schedule. We've decided to move up the trial date."
There was a long silence from the speaker, finally broken by Kirk's heavy sigh. "When?"
"Tomorrow morning...0900."
"Tomorrow morning?" Kirk exclaimed, as if it were news to him.
"Jim..." Fitzpatrick exhaled an audible breath. "Everyone's already here. Spock has no intention of defending himself. I don't see the need to prolong this any more than absolutely necessary. I think it would be best for everyone concerned..."
"And easier to railroad him into the stockade..." Kirk interjected coldly.
"Is that what you think I'm doing?" Fitzpatrick said.
"I don't know anymore, Admiral. You tell me."
"Jim, you're not making this any easier..."
"I have no intention of making this easy, Admiral," Kirk snapped. "Sorry to disappoint you."
It was apparent, even without seeing him, that Fitzpatrick was trying very hard to hold his tongue. "I could try to explain this again, Captain, but it's obvious I would just be wasting my breath. I just thought you would like to hear it from me."
He waited for a response, but Kirk remained stubbornly silent. When the Admiral spoke again, his voice was sullen. "Fitzpatrick out."
Uhura moved swiftly to deactivate the patch and retrieve the Captain's independent signal.
"So, what do we do now?" McCoy said. "You won't even reach Organia until morning."
"I know," Kirk replied quietly. "And worse yet, Spock has no intention of defending himself, so it won't be a very long trial."
McCoy looked quickly into the faces of his cohorts, then back toward the speaker. "Stall?"
"Big," Kirk said. "Big stall. Sulu, can you give us any more speed?"
Sulu's voice sounded distant over the speaker, but it was readable. "We're already pushing it to the limit, Captain. I don't think I could coax another ounce of power out of her."
The Captain swore lightly under his breath. "Bones...Scotty...do whatever you have to, but don't let that trial start until you hear from me. Understood?"
"Aye, Captain," Scott said ruefully.
"We'll do our best, Jim," McCoy said, but he honestly had no idea how they would manage it.
"I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Kirk out."
McCoy heard the click of the severed connection, then looked back into the Engineer's weary face.
"Break out your tap shoes, Mr. Scott," he said. "The show is about to begin."