The following morning, Kirk stepped onto the bridge and surveyed the order and peace. Nodding appreciatively, he approached Spock. "Spock," he greeted the Vulcan with a grin. "Glad to see last night's dinner didn't disagree with you too badly."
Spock was too much involved with studying the charts before him to respond too deeply. "I am always intrigued by earth's many tastes and cultures."
"Hm," Kirk scoffed at him with a grin and stepped down to his command console. "Mister Chekov," he sat down. "Your absence was felt last night. I was sure that you'd tell us all about the Russian practice of eating raw fish."
Chekov smiled rather nervously and shifted in his seat.
"It was a real party," Sulu snarked, low enough that Kirk understood the comment wasn't for his ears.
"Perhaps another time," Chekov turned briefly and smiled as best he could.
He had spent the evening in his quarters reading and rereading the latest message from Ahlyia, the alien woman with whom he's struck up a rapport. He had told her of the intelligence officers onboard with him, on their way to her system, and she had pressed him rather uncomfortably for information. She had also told him not to tell the agents of their communications, and to keep their relationship a secret for as long as possible.
"I wait for you with eager arms," she had written, and had attached a rather enticing visual image of herself for his viewing. She had claimed to be an ex-prostitute, and from the photo Chekov could only imagine that she was a highly successful one. Her sleek black hair flowed to her waist, as she contorted herself into a pose of seduction for the camera.
But her endless litany of questions had given Chekov pause. How many agents? Who are they? What are their names? What is the rank? What is in the cargo bay? Can you make a secret copy of the manifest? How much will you be able to give us? Does your captain know about us?
He had become so frightened by the message, that he had not answered it. He had spent the evening in a sweat, debating whether or not to tell Kirk. Perhaps if he simply refused to answer her, she would go away. For now, that was his plan.
He looked at his console, hoping that the mere sight of it would shock him back into working and make him forget about the very attractive Ahlyia.
He glanced up again at Kirk, and the Captain was signing off on a requisition order, smiling to himself as he did so.
Kirk had reason to smile. The intelligence officers, for the most part, were keeping to themselves, and it appeared that the Enterprise crew had largely forgotten about their presence. With the one exception of the incident on the Rec Deck, they were keeping their private mayhem from interfering with the regular operations of the ship, and Kirk couldn't have been happier about it. He had received an evening and a morning report of their activities, expertly penned by the magnanimous Karen Battaglia, which he had glanced over. As far as he could tell, Carter was keeping her word that the intelligence activities would be kept out of his hair.
He gave a contented sigh.
From the engineering station, crewman Ross cocked his head. "Sir? I'm getting a proximity alarm, but I don't know where it's coming from."
"Spock? Are you reading it?" Kirk turned and felt reassured to see Spock pulling up Ross' screens. It wasn't that he didn't trust crewman Ross. It was that he had placed his life in Spock's hands more times than he could count.
"Affirmative. Reading a sizable chunk of space debris, 300 kilometers off the starboard bow."
"Mister Chekov, perhaps you would care for a little target practice?" Kirk gestured with a chivalrous grace.
Chekov grinned, his immediate problem with espionage forgotten. "Aye, sir. Locking phasers."
Without warning, what had been thought to be space debris lit up and scurried across the main viewer like a cockroach. Chekov quickly released the phaser control in order to avoid a friendly fire accident. Spock fell into his scanner, swearing that the vessel had registered as a piece of dead space debris on his scanner not but a moment ago.
"Spock, what the hell is happening?" Kirk demanded.
"Unknown, scanning now."
"Is it possible that they were playing possum, Spock?" Kirk asked quickly.
"I am unfamiliar with that terminology captain," Spock turned. "But if I read you correctly, I do believe that they had shut off all their power to lay in wait for us."
"Sulu, full stop. Uhura, open a channel. I'd like to know who these guys think they are."
The Enterprise pulled to a slow halt, and the little vessel with a registry of "Argo" pulled into view. It fishtailed with broken thrusters as it faced down the ship that was easily ten times its size.
"This is the USS Enterprise, please identify yourself," Uhura said as cordially as she could. "Please respond. This is the USS Enterprise, please identify yourself."
Silence.
A signal flashed on Uhura's comm panel, and an overhead screen began scrolling with lines, dozens of lines, hundreds of lines, text and numbers in various languages. Uhura blinked and began pressing buttons, calling up all codebreaking programs that her computer knew. "Captain, I think this is our answer," she called out.
"What the," Kirk said in a low tone as the text continued, scrolling and filling one line and rapidly creating another and another in succession. "This doesn't look like any code that we've ever seen, or used."
"It doesn't match anything in our databanks," Spock nodded. "Captain," he turned. "Might I suggest that we use the recent tools placed at our disposal?"
Kirk nodded. "Get Carter up here," he orderd Uhura, who was calling on a shipwide intercom before the words left him.
Carter opened one eye at the sound of the shrill voice calling her name. For a moment she thought that she was dreaming that her mother was calling her, they were late for church. Then she remembered that she hadn't been to church on Sunday in well over twenty years. She started to sit up, but found herself dangerously close to the edge of the bed and fell off, striking her forehead on the cold metal wall beside the bed.
Holding the sore spot, she struck the comm with her fist. "Carter here. What's going on?"
"Captain Kirk requests your presence on the bridge immediately. Please respond." Uhura sounded concerned.
"I'm on my way," she stood and grabbed a black satin wrap and hurredly draped it over her pajamas as she strode out towards the lift.
There were a few glances as the door opened and she appeared, half dressed and rather disheveled. She didn't notice, and immediately stepped to Kirk's station. She studied the main viewer, and she recognized the ship. "That's the Argo," she said quietly. "But she's way out. Wonder what she's doing up here?"
"Trying to talk to us," Kirk stood and pointed to Uhura's station, where the visible code poured over the screens
Carter looked at it and puzzled for a moment. "I take it that you've got the standard programs working on this?"
"Affirmative." Spock nodded.
"That's good, because I haven't seen this before." Carter startled as an alarm began to sound.
The bridge crew went into a flurry of activity as the klaxons sounded a red alert. Kirk jumped to his station, as Sulu glanced at the warning lights on his console. "Sir, they're locking weapons."
"Do they have anything that can hurt us?"
"Negative," Spock said, his face buried in the blue glow of his scanners. "Light phaser array only."
"Shields up anyway. Uhura, are they responding to any of our hails?"
"No, sir," she shook her head.
Carter hit the open intercom button. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
There was a pause, and then a voice came over the speakers. "Identify yourself, human!"
"This is Lieutenant Commander Carter, of the Office of Starfleet Intelligence." She waited as there a silence over the bridge and the red lights flashed in mute.
Suddenly the viewscreen flickered and a Rigillian face came into view, a smoky and chaotic bridge in the background. "Carter? Have not seen you for long time? How is things?"
"Things is fine. What the hell do you think you're doing, threatening a Starfleet vessel?"
The Rigillian cleared his throat politely and gave a small laugh. "Carter, things is things in this quadrant. You understand."
"Things or people? Did someone put you up to this? What the hell is this chickenscratch?" she gestured to the screens, lined and scrolling with code.
He shrugged. "Maybe we talk. You make worthwhile? Or you go bedtime?" he grinned, mocking her attire.
She crossed her arms and stepped down. "No, Reghio. You got me out of bed. I can talk. There or here?"
He thought a moment. "Here is best."
"Of course it is," she nodded. "Do you need a few moments? Or can I beam over now?"
"Moments, yes. Many moments to prepare," he nodded and grinned.
"There's sixty moments in my minute. You have three hundred moments. Carter out," she touched the panel again to close the channel.
"What's happening?" Kirk demanded.
"I don't know, sir," Carter shook her head and touched a different button. "Hey, Jon, you down there? We just ran into the Argo."
"Argo? You're kidding." Fisher's voice came up, and he sounded shocked.
"Yeah, and he's up to something. I'm sending some code to Batty. Make sure she gets it. I'm going to need a wire and a tracer, five minutes." Carter released the channel and turned to Kirk. "I don't know what's going on, but I'll find out for you."
"You're going over there?" Kirk motioned to the Argo, still drifting on the screen.
"That's the idea." She nodded and turned to the turbolift. "I'll be wearing a tracking device. Fisher can give Mister Spock the details and you can keep an eye on me, too, if you want." The doors slid shut without another word.
Kirk blinked and Spock lifted a brow. Uhura glanced up at the new code, and the computer floundered in its attempt to break it.
"Sickbay to bridge, what in God's name is going on up there?" McCoy's raspy irritated tone came over the loudspeaker.
"Bones, everything's fine," Kirk stepped down to his command chair, but stood anxiously. "You can stand down that red alert."
Carter flew barefoot down the deck to their office, where Batty and Price were waiting with her suede jacket and hat. She quickly and immodestly changed from her pajamas and wrap into a pair of jeans, button down shirt, and a tan jacket. "Batty, did you get that new code from the bridge?"
"Aye, sir, and it matches recent samples picked up by the intelligence drones from here to Romulus," Karen said starkly.
"Romulus?" Fisher said, pinning a tiny mike into the collar of Carter's shirt. "I think I read a report about the Romulans getting interested in Orion pirates, but the Argo doesn't have any proven ties to piracy."
"They may have just blown that cover, then. This may be what we need to arrest someone," Carter said quickly, tipping her hat. "And if we arrest someone, we can hold them for questioning."
Price handed her a short knife, which she slipped into a hidden sheath on her back under her shirt. "The Argo was last seen near Arcturus about three months ago, and she was impounded six months ago for failure to adhere to safety standards and for non-registry of hazardous cargo."
"What the hell were they carrying that they needed to be impounded for it?" Fisher raised his brows.
"Live vaccine," Price's reply was like a brick. The Constellation had been carrying quite a large quantity of vaccine at the same time.
"Vaccine? Where did they get vaccine?" Fisher asked quickly.
"I don't have anymore time," Carter glanced at the chronometer. "Batty, call up Transporter Room 3 and let them know I'm on my way. I'll see what I can find out there. Jon, head on up to the bridge and give all my transponder and comm info to Spock and Uhura. I don't want to make Kirk edgier than he already is."
"Aye, sir," Fisher turned and Carter moved with him to leave.
"Be careful, Addy," Karen called after them.
Kirk met Carter in the Transporter Room. "Captain," Carter said brusquely. "Fisher is giving the transponder information to your bridge crew."
"I'm aware of that. How long do you think this will take?"
"Hour. Maybe less," she stepped up onto the pad. "Tell me, you don't happen to have any live vaccine in that cargo bay, do you?"
"A cubic meter of it. Why?" Kirk cocked his head.
"Just curious." She nodded to the transporter operator. "Please go ahead."
In a shimmer, she was gone.
Kirk pressed a comm button, "Spock, do you have her?"
There was a pause. "Affirmative, Captain. She is aboard the Argo."
"I'm on my way back up, Kirk out." He closed the channel and turned for the bridge.
Smoke greeted Carter as she materialized aboard the rogue freighter, and she did her best not to cough. Her bruised forehead gave a little throb and she realized that she'd taken off without even having a cup of coffee. The Jack Daniel's she'd been drinking the previous night was still on her breath.
"Carter? You are early, yes?" Captain Reghio greeted her with a bow, but kept an eye on her movements all the same.
"I'm on time," she said, stepping down carefully. She glanced around at the stray boxes, empty crates and shattered cargo units. "What a mess, when was the last time you cleaned this place?"
"I no guests for long time," Reghio stepped back and allowed her to pass. "Can I serve you a drink?"
"You may," Carter nodded with a friendly smile.
Reghio snapped his fingers and from the corners of the room two shadows scurried off.
Carter looked around for more shadows lurking in the corners, but seeing none she turned back to Reghio. "You're a long way from home," she smiled.
"I could say same of you."
"Are we going to talk in the bay, here? Or did you have somewhere else in mind?" Carter asked quickly.
Spock scanned the immediate area as Carter's and Reghio's voices spoke over the loudspeaker. "No vessels in the immediate vicinity. No activity," he looked up from his scanning station.
"Patching in to loudspeaker," Uhura pressed a button and there were sounds of footsteps and clinking glasses overhead.
"Reggie," Carter spoke low. "I heard about your little impoundment a few months back. Do you want to tell me about it?"
McCoy, who could never stay away from the bridge at these moments, looked at the speaker as though she were there, and listened hard for the answer. Fisher stood beside him, glancing every now and again at the Communications channel.
"Bad deal," Reghio answered. "No deal. My supplier no say about live vaccine."
"That's odd, because most live vaccines have hazmat all over the manifest in big print and in about three dozen languages. Are you telling me that you missed this? Or that the cargo came to you without a manifest?"
"Manifest, gone."
"Captain, I am reading an unknown energy source on the Argo. Powered down, but residual waves are readable," Spock commented.
Kirk registered this. "Keep an eye on it Spock. Notify me if anything changes."
"Reggie, taking cargo without a manifest is more illegal than carrying live vaccine. You know that. Why did you do it?" One could almost hear Carter leaning back in her chair and speaking as though they were discussing crops and weather.
There was a pause, and Uhura turned up the gain on the channel.
"Where did the cargo come from Reggie?" Carter asked directly. There was a sound of a glass hitting the table.
"Come on, come on," Fisher tapped the communications console impatiently. "Just spit it out."
There was a sound like a whine from the speaker and a shuffle. "He was just a man, that all I tell you."
A pause ensued, and a creak from a chair. "Reggie, would you mind too terribly if I looked around?"
"No reason too," Reghio sounded nervous. He knew Carter could not search his vessel unless she had reasonable cause, and right now all she had was a lingering suspicion that he was up to no good.
"Then can I see your manifests?"
"Yes, yes, manifests, all manifests here," there was a shuffling of papers and the dull thud of the ship's logbook onto the table.
"You were in the Arcturan Sector not but three days ago. As far as I knew you weren't licensed to transport from that sector."
"New license."
"Can I see it?"
There was another shifting, rattling and shuffling, and a pause.
"Reggie, I don't know who you bought this from, but they are a poor forger."
Fisher grinned widely. "Got 'em."
McCoy glanced at him strangely.
"Nooo, Carter," he seemed to blow her off. "I get from Federation. Federation Issue."
"See this? This is the stamp color of two years ago. The logo is accurate for this year. The color isn't."
There was a pause, and then a sharp scuffle, the sounds of a brief altercation and breaking glass.
"Reggie, I'm on your side, remember?" Carter sounded breathless when she finally spoke again. "Just let me look at your cargo, tell me who sold you the license, and we can play like it was all an innocent mistake. Okay?"
"No, he kill me!" Reghio squealed.
"Would you like for me to take you into custody? I can protect you there. Then you can tell me."
Fisher laughed and shook his head.
McCoy cocked his head. "Who is doing who the favor?"
"He is," Fisher spoke up. "He's doing all the favors. But he doesn't know it. Captain, I'd get the brig ready for guests if I were you."
Kirk paused, and grimaced. "Spock, anything in the area?"
Spock had his face back in the scanner. "Some energy fluctations, 5000 kilometers off the port side. Unknown origin."
"Let me take a look," Fisher stepped to the scanner.
Kirk looked to Sulu. "Keep an eye on him, tell me if he comes any closer to us."
"Aye, sir," Sulu hit a button and listened to the altercation happening on the other ship.
A voice piped up from Uhura's console. "Peters to Fisher, I've got some energy fluctuations on my scanner. Are you getting them up there?"
Fisher acknowledged the channel. "Mister Spock beat you to it." He then opened up a small communicator and spoke in a low voice. "Belle Boyd, Belle Boyd, this is General Lee. You may have some Yankees nearby, so wrap it up."
"Okay, then I'm taking you in anyway, Reggie. If you're fearing for your life, then it's the only way I can protect you. I can arrange for a Starfleet Vessel to pick up your craft and the crew here, and take it to the nearest space station," Carter spoke quickly. "I'll even waive the docking and storage fees, okay? Does that sound all right?"
Reghio whimpered as a response, and there was a sound of footsteps. "Okay, Enterprise, you can bring us back." Carter ordered quickly. "I'll be on my way to Sickbay as soon as I hit that pad," she added.
Kirk nodded to McCoy. "You should meet her there."
McCoy turned on his heel without a word and left the bridge.
The two trainees waited in Transporter Room 3 as ordered by Ensign Price. Carter and the subdued Rigillian captain shimmered into view, the Rigillian bound with a low security restraining device around his wrists.
Carter stepped down from the pad, her arm held tightly to her side and a damp stain darkening her jacket. She passed the Rigillian's arm to a trainee and stepped quickly to the door. "Take him to the brig, make him comfortable."
"Are you okay?"
"No, not really," she stepped heavily towards the door. As she stepped out, she ran headlong into Scotty. The surprise and the pain in her arm nearly did her in, but she somehow managed to keep her footing. "Mister Scott," she breathed in shock.
"Och, lass, looks like you took quite a bruising," he glanced at the jacket and the growing stain.
"Which way to Sickbay?" she asked with a tired look. She hated starships with a passion, and despised her inability to keep her bearings in one.
Scott took her good arm and gently turned her to the right, "It's this way, I'll take you there."
Together they walked as quickly as Carter could manage. She knew that she'd taken a bigger hit than she originally thought, and she forced herself to keep pace.
Scott turned her to the right again, and the door slid open. McCoy waited inside, and had been pacing nervously. "It's about time," he started in on her.
She ignored him and sat down in the nearest chair, still holding her arm protectively. "Can you just please," she said quickly, begging him to stop bothering her about her own carelessness.
McCoy kneeled in front of her, setting out a few instruments on the desk next to her. With a gentle and firm hand he pushed her back into the chair, and pulled out the injured forearm.
Shards of broken glass sparkled in the bright light, and Carter did her best to relax as McCoy began cutting away the shredded leather jacket. "Looks like your jacket took the most of it," McCoy commented. "But there's still some bleeding coming from somewhere."
Carter jumped a little as he ripped off the fabric, and turned to Scotty. "The Argo is still out there, she's got three crewmen onboard. We're arranging for a transport, can you disable their warp and impulse drives so they don't go anywhere?"
"And can you get lost, so I can fix this mess?" McCoy added hotly.
Scott gave a wry smile and a nod in deference. "We'll take care of the Argo, no need to worry 'bout that." He stepped out lightly, leaving McCoy and Carter alone.
McCoy worked quickly, picking out bits of glass and dropping them into a metal bowl. Carter sighed and watched him work, thinking that this had been a terrible morning.
"Listen," he said quietly. "I'm sorry about last night." A shard of glass clinked in the bowl.
She didn't say anything, worsening McCoy's fears that he had permanently altered his friendship with her. "If it's all right, though," he started again cautiously. "I'd still like to see you from time to time."
She heard him, but between Reggie, the intense pain in her arm and the subtle effects of whatever painkiller he was using, she only vaguely understood his meaning.
He ran a scanner over her forearm, looking for any missed glass. He knew that there was something in there that was causing all the bleeding, and it hadn't been any of the little bits that he had pulled out so far. The scanner beeped impatiently, and he found his cause; a long shard of glass had nicked the artery and was still lodged between the two bones. He took his hypospray and numbed the area a little deeper to dig it out. "This may sting a little," he acknowledged, and looked up at her.
Carter watched as he proceeded to literally dig into her forearm and felt a familiar warmth envelop her belly and a rushing sound in her ears. "I'm going to pass out," she warned with a forced calm.
"Just relax," he touched her shoulder and gently leaned her back in the chair again. "This won't take but a minute."
She closed her eyes and waited for more prodding. There was none. She glanced up and saw McCoy quickly and subtly drop the largest shard soundlessly into the bowl with the rest. "That's it," he said, reading the scanner again. "That wasn't so bad was it?" he grinned up at her. "You still going to pass out on me?"
"I hope not," she tried to laugh at herself for her own sensitivities. "You're good, though."
"That's what they tell me," he began to suture the series of nicks and cuts, and looked up while the little machine hummed and worked. "You still haven't answered my question, though."
"What question?" her head swam with the lingering drugs and the feeling of losing consciousness.
"I know I took a liberty I shouldn't have," he admitted gracefully. "But will you come down to say hello? I get lonely down here, and I thought I had a new drinking partner."
She smiled, enjoying the warmth of his hand and his company. "Len, do you want to truth?"
He straightened a little and smiled a little more mischeviously. "Of course I'd like the truth."
She glanced at the floor and felt herself blush stupidly. "The truth," she looked straight into his waiting eyes and steeled herself for the admission. "The truth is that I find you strangely attractive and very charming, but I didn't think that my quarters last night was an appropriate time or place for either of us."
McCoy took her good hand and held it. "Now, what would say if I told you that I felt the same way about you?"
"The first thing I'd say is that this really isn't an appropriate setting for this, either" she said quickly, feeling her head fall back into some sense. "And I'd say that it really wouldn't work."
"Why on earth not?" he pressed her further. His truth was that he found her incredibly attractive and had been looking for any excuse to spend time with her while she was on the Enterprise.
"Because I'm leaving this ship as soon as my mission is over, and you're obviously not transferring off the Enterprise anytime soon. It just doesn't make sense." She looked at her forearm as the little suturing device chirruped the completion of its task. McCoy took it off and she rubbed the now smooth skin. "Besides," she took off what was left of her jacket and bundled it. "All my relationships drive me crazy after awhile."
She tried to stand, but immediately felt woozy again and fell back down. "Goddammit," she cursed. She really wanted nothing more than to leave after admitting her curious affection for the doctor.
"You're not going anywhere for awhile," McCoy said, and began stroking his chin thoughtfully. He had her prisoner for at least an hour, longer if he could call it medically necessary, and he intended to use that priviledge. "Now, let's think about this."
She glared at him, knowing full well what he was doing.
"You say that you're leaving soon and I'm staying here, so there's no point in getting involved, right?"
"Yes."
"But you also say that all your relationships drove you crazy, 'after awhile'?"
"Right,"
"So, it sounds perfect to me," he shrugged.
"Len," she rolled her eyes and groaned. "You're not a short term person. I can tell."
"I've never tried it. Maybe that's my problem," he grinned mischievously. "Seriously, though," he took both of her hands and held them. "I'm willing to try if you are. We can talk about it in the arboretum tonight, if you want to."
She thought for a moment, really enjoying having some hands to hold. "All right, but no promises."
The door opened suddenly, scaring the both of them apart and Fisher strolled in. "How's it looking, doc?"
"Fine, just some minor cuts. Taken care of," McCoy stood up quickly and began collecting his tools.
"Listen, Ad," Fisher turned to Carter and set down the ship's manifests on the desk beside her. "This guy's been real close to the Romulan Neutral zone, too many times for my taste. What do you think about that?" he pointed to a few log entries.
"I think it's disturbing," she read over the haphazard entries. "What the hell was he delivering if all his cargo is accounted for, which it apparently is?" she flipped through a few pages of manifests.
"There's a few kinds of cargo that don't fit into a box, Ad," Fisher intoned gravely.
She shook her head. "Reggie knows better than that. Is he in the brig?"
Fisher nodded. "In the brig and having some lunch, which is better than the brandy bottle special that he served you up with."
"Hm," she continued flipping through the log book. "Are we searching the ship?"
Fisher nodded. "I sent the trainees over right after you got back. I figure I'd beam them back in another ten minutes."
She paused, and closed the log book. "I'd like you over there, Jon."
Fisher knew what she was suspecting, and nodded knowingly. "Aye, sir." He turned quickly and left, leaving Carter with some unpleasant developments. She set the log book down on the floor with a dull thud and rubbed her eyes.
McCoy, leaning on the open doorway frame, had watched everything. "So, from the looks of it, this is turning out to be a little more complicated than you had planned?"
"When can I leave?" she looked up quickly. "I really need to talk to this guy."
He looked at the chronometer. "Give it another half hour, at least. He's in the brig, he's not going anywhere."
Fisher beamed aboard the Argo, and immediately began coughing at the dank and smoke filling the air. "Good lord, when was the last time these people had their ventilation checked?"
Mara Stevens, the female trainee swung her flashlight over with surprise. "Sir? We weren't expecting you here."
"Addy thought you might like the help," he said, smiling. "Found anything good?"
"Well, sir," she stepped over a stack of broken boxes. "We found a room that's a hell of a lot cleaner than this, and it looks like it's an improvised guest quarters."
"Show me," Fisher gestured away, and followed Mara, picking their way across the debris.
Mara showed him a half removed bulkhead plate. "I thought the plate looked a little slapped on, so I pulled on it. It came off, and you can see inside," she gestured.
Fisher glanced in, and saw two beds, along with scattered bedding on the floor. He sighed roughly. "There's no life signs besides the existing crewmembers. Do a sweep and tell me what you come up with."
"There's something else, sir," Mara opened a crate, revealing a sleek gray apparatus. Unmistakably, it was a cloaking device.
Fisher whistled. "Looks like this guy was running more than we bargained for. Dave?" he called out suddenly. "Could you get anything else out his computers?"
"Yes, sir," Dave acknowledged. "We got reams of that code, we'll have to take it back to the Enterprise to decipher it."
Jon stood in the center of the mess, slowly thinking about what they had found. Kirk would need to know about this, and his mind was already wording the request for backup he was sure they would need.
Captain Reghio sat huddled on the small outcrop of a seat provided in the brig and waited. He had known that the license they gave him was hot, he just didn't know how hot it was. He sighed and looked around, and realized that this really was the safest place in the galaxy for him at this point. And better it was Carter that arrested him and not some other agent of the OSFI. Other agents were unpredictable.
Carter appeared at the forcefield and knocked on the bulkhead. Her arm was in a sling. "Good afternoon, Reggie. How are they treating you?"
"Well, very well," he smiled as best he could and nodded. He didn't mention the damage he'd done to her arm. He was hoping that she would forget.
"That's great," she turned and gave a slight nod to the crewman operating the force field, and he disabled it. He stood ready with a phaser in hand, should the Rigillian try anything else. "Listen, we need to talk about that license you tried to pass off on me," she sat down casually and tapped the floor quietly with her foot.
Kirk had stepped into the brig quietly, studying the parched and frightened Rigillian Captain. He wondered what had given the little man with no weapons to speak of the audacity to attempt even a minor assault on the Federation Flagship, and if the report from Fisher was true.
Reghio shrugged it off again as best he could, but his veneer of control was growing thinner the further he descended into Starfleet hands. "I tell you, I not know,"
Carter shook her head and smiled. "No, what you said was 'He kill me.'"
"No, no," he breathed, tapping the table with long nails nervously.
"I have it on audio record. Do I need to play it back?" Carter paused, waiting for the blood to come back to his pale features. "Who gave you that license, Reg?"
He sat stubbornly silent, but Carter refused to be ruffled by his stubborn refusal to cooperate.
"Reg," her foot stopped tapping and she leaned on the little outcrop of a table. She whispered harshly as though she had a terrible secret. "I know about the cloaking device."
His face fell, and he knew that all was lost. His ship, his crew, and the meager reputation he had regained after his recent impoundment at the hands of Carter's associates. "Commander Selan," he let it out in a breath, as though he were releasing himself into a void.
"Selan?" Carter, who ordinarily appeared calm despite the worst storm, sat back in a degree of measureable shock.
Kirk dropped his arms and touched the control console for some support. Was this man smuggling Romulans? Across the neutral zone? For what purpose? And how many?
Carter stood up, her eyes withdrawn and saddened. "Reggie, were you transporting Romulan Spies across the neutral zone?"
"No! No!" he stood up and insisted so violently that it couldn't help but be the truth. "I pick up only! I pick up!"
"Pick up from where?" Kirk demanded and stepped to the invisible border, temporarily disabled in a remarkable display of trust on Carter's part.
"Federation side," Reghio glanced from Kirk to Carter and back again.
"And who delivered them to the Federation Side?" Carter asked her questions quietly, as though she were a mother who was deeply disappointed in her son.
"Romulan ship, warbird."
"What color was it Reggie?" Carter caught his eyes and held them with hers, drawing him into her trust and security.
He shook his head. "I don't know," he trailed off incomprehensibly.
"Color, Reg," she pressed him again, her eyes and her voice turning to cold steel as she realized how much she had trusted this little bastard and how far he had gone to betray her.
"Green," he whimpered, finally, sitting on the floor and holding his head in his hands.
Kirk looked at Carter strangely. The only Romulan vessels he had seen were gray, and painted with red markings like an honest to god bird of prey. She was kneeling at Reghio's side, holding his hand, and speaking quietly.
"Reggie, what you've done is a serious crime," she wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "It's punishable by a prison sentence at best, and a permanent revocation of all shipper's licenses at worst. Since you've come clean with me, I will do what I can to make sure you don't get the worst of it, all right?"
He nodded, and she stood up stiffly. She stepped out of the compartment and immediately went out the door into the hallway. Kirk motioned to the technician at the console to reactiviate the forcefield, and followed her.
"Carter," he called out after her. She turned to him, the anger evident in her stance. He looked at her, knowing what was going on but unsure of how to put it into words.
"Captain," she said harshly. "He's your prisoner now. my recommendation is that you nail that little son of a bitch for everything on his record and then some." Her words were a stark contrast to her behavior with him in the brig, and it shocked Kirk. So, she did have some sense of justice after all!
"What happens now?" he asked as she turned and began to walk away.
"I call for backup," she called back simply.
Kirk paced in the Officer's Lounge, nervous and yet somehow energized by these recent developments. He had sent a message to Starfleet, but he had taken a liberty and used the Intelligence frequencies recently made open for his use. He felt assured that using these frequencies would get his message read quicker.
McCoy and Spock appeared in the doorway; McCoy looking concerned and Spock his usual cool self.
"We have a problem," Kirk stated simply.
"Romulan spies in this quadrant has serious implications to Federation security," Spock stated to obvious, his hands behind his back.
"What does Addy say about it?" McCoy sat down.
"I don't know," Kirk sat down next to him and folded his hands. "She mentioned something about backup. I can expect a detailed report at the end of the day, if not sooner." Kirk stroked his chin, slightly marred by an early shadow. Was it stress that did this to him? Did the stubble appear as soon as the Rigillian had mentioned the word "Selan", an unmistakably Romulan name?
"God, Jim. How many Romulans are out there?" McCoy's voice went quiet.
"Who knows. But you can bet this is going to be a topic at the staff meeting tomorrow. I just wanted you two to be aware of it. Do me a favor and quell any rumors that you hear until then. Stuff like this has a tendency to fly like wildfire through the ship."
"Agreed," Spock nodded.
"Right. What some of these crewmen come up with is usually a lot worse than the truth, anyway." McCoy did his best at humor, but it wasn't easy considering the circumstances.
"I've sent a message to Starfleet, we should get a response before morning." Kirk finished up his summation and glanced at the two men. He could have done this from his quarters over the compics, but he needed to have them around him. He could tell that there was little they could offer in the way of advice, considering that there was even less to offer in the way of information. Their presence alone was enough to reassure him.. He could tell that there was little they could offer in the way of advice, considering that there was even less to offer in the way of information. Their presence alone was enough to reassure him.
"Spock, you can go," Kirk amicably waved away the Vulcan, who turned on his heel and stepped out. "Bones, you stay."
McCoy suddenly looked uncomfortable. "What's the matter, Jim?"
"How do you really know Addy Carter?" Kirk posed the question so fast that McCoy barely had time to remember the answer.
"Jim," he cleared his throat. "You ever hear of a professional secret?"
"I've never had the liberty of actually having one," Kirk mulled.
"Well, I do. And I intend to keep it." He turned to leave, a wry smile still on his face.
"Bones," Kirk stopped him. McCoy faced him, and Kirk smiled at him like a brother who knew he'd been out too late. "Don't get too friendly with the spies."
"It's not a petting zoo, Jim," McCoy retorted, and Kirk laughed at the hidden implications of the statement.
Carter waited in her quarters, her hands cold and shaking from nervousness. Despite their chill, they warped the jacket of her book with damp, and she moved them frequently to avoid damaging it. She could do little more than scan the pages, thinking of the terrible events of the day and anxiously awaiting some form of communication from her commanding officers. She couldn't get Len off her mind, either.
She didn't know what exactly had come over her the night before. Passing moment, she thought quickly. But he is so very charming.
The door chime rang and she closed her book. "Come in," she answered the chime and rose quietly.
Len McCoy appeared in the doorway, strangely empty-handed, but bearing a smile and cheerful demeanor. "Heard you had a rough day."
She set the book on her desk, and nodded. "You could say that. Come on in, Len. You're making me nervous."
He sat in a chair near the door and scoffed. "You? Nervous? I can't imagine."
"I have every reason to be and you know it. There's a pirate in the brig who was transporting Romulan spies in exchange for a cloaking device and god know what else," she adjusted her uniform in the mirror and ran a brush through her hair.
"Why would Rigillians and Romulans strike up any kind of bargain?" McCoy asked, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.
"Well, the only reason I can think of," she stopped at the sound of the door chime again. "Come in," she said, and shrugged at McCoy's questioning glance.
Mara came in, looking a little nervous. "Good Evening, Lieutenant," she said stiffly.
"Good evening, Mara," Addy looked at her curiously.
"I hope you're feeling better," the trainee was still stiffly formal.
"Thanks to Doctor McCoy, I am. Thank you," Carter become concerned at her attitude. "Is there something that you needed?"
Mara glanced at McCoy, but when it became obvious that Carter had no intentions to excuse him, she stiffened and came right out with her complaint. "Sir," she began with the angry tone edging into her voice. "I want to ask you if you question my ability to serve as an intelligence officer."
McCoy suddenly became glad he wasn't really involved with this and lifted his brows in surprise.
"No. No, I don't question anything about your ability, Mara," Carter shook her head and sat behind her desk. "What makes you think that?"
"We were assigned to search the Argo, correct?"
"Yes," Carter nodded, folding her hands on the desk. "Why don't you sit down?"
Mara sat, but retained her air of injustice. "Then why did you assign Lieutenant Fisher to assist us in the search not five minutes after we started? Why not let us finish it ourselves?"
Carter blinked, and suddenly realized what that must have looked like to Mara. "Mara," she started gently. "Believe me, I had every intention of letting you two take that search. I wanted you to have it. Fisher brought me the log and manifests of the Argo while I was still in sickbay. When I looked through them I realized that there was a very good possibility that Reggie was smuggling operatives across the Neutral Zone. That's pretty heavy stuff, Mara, and quite frankly you and Dave don't have the experience to deal with this kind of thing yet."
"But he was smuggling operatives," Mara started to protest.
Carter held up her hand and smiled. "Yes, he was. And you found what we needed to prove it. I'm proud of you for that, and you should be proud of yourself. I never once doubted that you two wouldn't conduct a thorough search. My point is that I wanted you to have some more experienced backup. Do you understand?"
Mara sat and considered this for a moment. "Yes. I do, sir."
"Listen," Carter continued. "From the looks of it, you're going to be doing some serious work soon. Take the help while you can."
Mara stood and turned for the door, but paused for a moment. "Do you think we're going to run into Romulan spies?"
"I think that's a given at this point," Carter did her best to appear casual. "We just don't know the extent of their involvement. Good night, Mara."
"Good night, sir." Mara left quietly and Carter tapped her stylus on the desk.
"You know what's funny about that?"
"Hm?" McCoy lifted his chin.
"She's the quiet one," Carter pointed after her with a smile. "That's the last person on earth I'd have expected in here, demanding to know why I sent unrequested backup." She stood up. "You ready to go?"
McCoy stood. "What about the Romulans?"
"I'm not thinking about that today. I'll think about that tomorrow," she waved any Romulan thoughts away and stepped to the door.
"All right, Scarlett," McCoy smiled and offered his arm.
