The Furnace
Once again, I apologize for the delay. Worked extra hard to finish this as a Christmas surprise to you all. Surprise!
Disclaimer- I own no one. You should know that by now.
Review replies:
The Almighty Panamint- you're a great reviewer! Like those telepathic dog-things, huh?
60's Bat(and Trek)-Fan- I'm updating! I'm updating!
StromyRose- Gotta love the wierdness. Did I say anything about quitting? Hmmm? Besides, I would NEVER make Chekov unhappy! You, well... :)
Aly L- I had a great time! And here's your chapter, fresh from the oven!
slimirof4077 thanks for the compliment! But be careful, it might go to my head!
A/N: I said, "I'll be leaving on Thanksgiving vacation soon, and probably will not be posting til December. But be rest assured that I'll continue! Please bear with me!" So, what do you all do? Please update soon! Please update! Sheesh... Just joking! Love you all!
Kirk checked the time. Chekov and Daniels were overdue by five minutes. Usually wet-behind- the-ears officers were punctual, obsessively so. He looked around impatiently, muttering something about lack of discipline. Sulu's attention was directed wholly at a sun gem on the wall of a building, which was gradually flickering brighter and brighter. Obviously, the lieutenant was doing some in-field experiment, one that he seemed to be enjoying, judging by the delighted smile on his face. A gold-shirted figure approached, and Kirk gave the ensign a hard look.
"Reason for being late, Mr. Chekov?"
"Daniels took too long, so I came back by myself, sir."
Stupidity, Kirk thought wearily, could kill a man. "Mr Chekov, if you do something like that again, I'll have you confined to quarters. Now go over by Mr Sulu and prepare to beam up."
"Yes sir."
Flipping open his communicator, he contacted his transporter chief. "Kyle, stand by to beam up Sulu and Mr Chekov. Have Mr Spock, Scott, and McCoy beam down." He turned to Sulu and Chekov.
"Ready?"
Sulu nodded. "Ready, sir."
"Energize."
As the two figures faded and three others took their place, something tickled at the back of Kirk's mind. Was it his imagination, or had Chekov been speaking without his heavy Russian accent? The thought was pushed to the back of his mind as his senior officers approached him. After filling them in on the current situation, he issued his orders.
"Spock, Scotty, go and verify the scientists' claims about these gems. McCoy, the body from the last murder is not yet interred. Go and have a full autopsy scan done. Call me when you have findings. Report in in an hour."
He turned to the two security guards. "Tyndall, go with Dr. McCoy. Callahan, you're with me. Try calling up Daniels."
Scotty spoke up hesitantly. "Captain, do'ye think that there's some connection 'tween these gems and th' murders?"
"I don't know, but I gave a feeling this isn't going to end nicely. If these gems truly have the potential that the Serenoan scientists say they do, they'll revolutionize space travel."
"But sir, we don't' have anythin' that could withstand that speed."
"Well, I'm sure that that won't stop the Klingons or Romulans from trying to get it."
The first sensation was heat. The second was sharp, shooting pain. Chekov opened his eyes, then closed them again. There was no difference. The darkness was absolute. Without his eyes, he turned to his other senses. He was tied to a chair, at his wrists, biceps, chest, waist, knees, and ankles. His head was throbbing, either from the anaesthetic agent or the heat. God, he hated the heat. Willing himself to focus, he again studied his surroundings. The air was steamy and smelled of hot earth.
He could hear nothing. No, there was a sound. The sound of a blow, then a exclamation of pain. Three seconds of silence. Then again. And again. How long it went on, Chekov didn't know, but he guessed half an hour. The howls of pain escalated, along with his dread, til they were screams. Then there was silence, except for his own heavy breathing.
Then, so softly, he heard footsteps. Slow, deliberate, and purposeful, and they were getting closer. Slowly, Chekov tensed. He couldn't help but remember the sound of his father's boots, ominous and heavy, as they came down the hall or thumped up the stairs. The heat was oppressive, and his shirt was soaked with sweat.
Sun-bright light blinded him. Eyes clamped shut and watering, he waited for the brightness to become tolerable. Slowly, blinking, he opened his eyes. He was in a small bare room, by the looks of it naturally developed. There was one exit, a tunnel, which was not filled with the piercing light. After quickly becoming familiar with his surroundings, he turned his attention to the occupants of the room.
There, standing before him, was a somewhat familiar figure. The eyebrows and ears, yes, those he recognized. But the rest was foreign. The raw hostility, the assertive stance, were totally unlike the calm, controlled person he likened to the physical features. Another form, lingering in the mouth of the tunnel, was unrecognizable in the shadows.
"Ensign Chekov, you will save yourself pain and suffering by cooperating. The security clearance codes to the Enterprise. Give them to me." The Romulan paused. "Your death will be painless if you comply."
"How.." His voice was raspy, and his lips were bleeding, Chekov noted ruefully. He tried again. "How do you-" he was cut off by a slap that knocked the chair back on to two legs. His already throbbing head felt ready to explode.
"You are not to question. After being stuck in his mudhole for three months, I intend to get those codes."
He pulled a disk off his belt and pressed it into the skin below Chekov's eye. The touch of the metal became liquid fire, frying every nerve ending in his body. The only sound was the low buzz of the disk and the cries of its recipient.
Sulu turned to Chekov as they rematerialized.
"Does the Academy still teach basic landing safety? Why did you come back by yourself?"
The helmsman's concern made his voice sharper than intended, but Chekov just shrugged.
"I needed to come back."
"But you're not supposed to split from your group. They have a killer down there."
Chekov shrugged again, and without another word, he turned and walked off. Sulu was surprised at him. From what he'd seen of him before, Chekov was always trying to be at his best, striving for approval. He jogged up to him.
"Hey, you want to go to the gym?"
"No. I just want to go to my room. I wish to read." Chekov's voice was polite, but cold and very unfriendly.
Even further taken aback, Sulu nodded. "Bye, then."
He watched til Chekov turned a corner. Then he went his own way, troubled and a little hurt.
Uhura whistled as she strode down the hall on her way to Rec. She caught sight of Chekov. "Hey," she said by way of greeting. He looked up at her.
"Miss Uhura."
" I was thinking of doing some games. Would you care to join me?" She motioned to the stack of disks she held. "They're great. I've got some from-"
"No, I don't." And he went on his way, without a goodbye. Uhura stared at his retreating from. Well, if that wasn't the most rudeness she'd seen from him! Feeling very snubbed, she went on her way, her pleasant mood dampened.
Kirk's communicator beeped. Freeing one hand from the three padds he was trying to look over, he passed them to Callahan. Then he flipped it open.
"Kirk here."
"Jim? I just finished examining the body. It's ripped apart, almost passed recognition. No foreign substances on the body except for a small bit of unidentified tissue under three of the fingernails. The miner must have been physically attacked, and tried to defend herself. Cause of death was an strike to the neck that almost decapitated. It snapped the neck and ripped up all the main blood vessels. Most of the mutilation was done after death."
Kirk grimaced. "What was the instrument used?" There was a hesitant pause.
"Jim...I think it was done by teeth. The marks indicate a large mouth with small, sharp teeth. The blow to the neck was done with a knife or claw."
"Report this to Jorrel. Spock and Scotty will be calling in soon. Kirk out."
He looked over the paperwork. All the information on the miners were unrelated, and just a dead end. The only thing they had in common was the fact that they were dead. He was not following up on the delvers. He paused to think what the motive for the deaths were. He came up blank. Callahan coughed, bringing him back from his speculation.
"Sir, the other teams are reporting in." Kirk took his communicator and adjusted it so it was a three way line.
"Spock here. We examined the sun gems and found the local scientists findings factual. I would like to point out that ensign Daniels has not reported in in 1.53 hours, and has not answered hails."
"McCoy. I think we should find that boy."
"Mmm, yes. We are all to meet in fifteen minutes where you beamed down. From there, we'll go to the last site where a body was found, and there begin investigating the murder and the disappearanceof the ensign. Kirk out."
Caligula spat on his unconscious prisoner. His neural disrupter had died, but not before his prisoner had lost his consciousness. When the psycho-tricorder had shown the other one had no usefulness, he had him beat. That in itself had proven rather mollifying. The perpetual blubbering the human had displayed was sickening. It only showed how humans were such an inferior race. As the screams had reached a climax, he finally had him killed.
This one was different. His position, showed through the scan, was one of some importance, therefore useful. Replacing him was quickly done. And even after a prolonged taste of the neural disrupter, he had managed to keep his information. Now, without the aid of his torture device, he was left to use more imaginative means. And he was a very creative Romulan.
Considered early on as a wonderful intelligence officer, he had been one of the best in the Empire. Unfortunately, the means which he achieved his ends were brought to light by a unearthed scandal. After many official reprimands for brutality, he had been shunted from one obscure post to another. If he could somehow bring this knowledge of these rocks back, along with the most famed starship in the universe, he could retire, and be accepted once again.
Unfortunately, he could do neither without the security codes to the Enterprise. He needed to wring this everything he could out of this human. His only assets were his anonymousness, his wit and his two aces in the hole. And of course this little human.
But Caligula had learned much over the years, and the greatest lesson he had learned was this: never put all your ale in one bottle.
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