Wrongly Accused Part 2

Jim Kirk was enjoying himself on his shore leave, he had a nice dinner, chilled in his hotel room, and even managed to get a hot girls number.

So when he was awoken at six in the morning by his communicator blaring in his ear, he was kind of annoyed. It was his emergency contact frequency, the one that was only to be used in case someone was dying or something.

"I swear Scotty, if this is about the replicators..." He began, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Instead of the deep, accented voice of his chief engineer (who liked to abuse his emergency frequency), he was shocked to hear the slightly panicky voice of his pilot. "Captain, we have a problem." He said, he sounded out of breath.

"Sulu? What is it?"

"It's Chekov. They think he's killed someone."

"WHAT?" He yelled, his voice louder than he intended. "Wait, who? Explain."

"I can't over the phone. Get to the central police station. We can talk there."

Jim had never dressed faster than he did at that moment. His shirt was wrinkled, and his pants had a mustard stain on them, but he didn't care, he needed to get there for his crew.

He arrived fifteen minutes later, his hair still unbrushed, and his shirt untucked from his pants. He had a sneaking suspicion one of his shoes didn't match the other, but he was in to big a hurry to check.

The lady at the front desk sat reading a magazine, her hair in a ponytail, and chewing gum in her mouth. She was obviously new, seeing as how she had the early morning shift. Jim walked up to her. "I'm here to see someone." He said, surprised by the nervousness of his voice.

"And who is it you're here for?" She asked, not even looking up.

"Pavel A. Chekov."

She rolled her eyes, as if she had been through this before. "I'm sorry, but as a main suspect in a case, he is unable to receive visitors."

Jim slammed his fist against the desk, causing her to jump. "I'm not leaving until I see him!"

Wide eyed, the girl pushed her chair back slightly, she waved at some guards around the area, and they began to lead him away.

"Pavel! Sulu!" He yelled, resisting their grip on his arms. Suddenly a door swung open, and Sulu ran out. He was wearing his service uniform, the metals and ribbons glinting in the harsh light.

"Captain! Stop, he's with us!" Sulu said, and the guards released him. Jim pulled the sleeve of his shirt down, glaring daggers at the police men. Sulu motioned for Jim to follow him, and he entered the room.

It was furnished well, with a couch, a couple of chairs, a coffee table, and some shelves against one wall. The carpet was a huge contrast from the polished stone floor of the lobby.

"Sulu, what the hell is going on?" He asked. His eyes suddenly found Pavel, and he began to feel his anger rise once again. The kid looked exhausted, his hair, which usually was a mess, was even more of a mess than usual, and he was still wearing his pajamas. He didn't even have shoes.

"Someone was killed. They think Pavel did it. I've already told them I'm his lawyer, I called you here because we just need some one else. It's been a rough couple of hours..." Sulu ran his hand through his hair as he spoke, his neat hair becoming as disheveled as Kirks.

"Well, what evidence do they have against him?" He asked, his brain automatically going into 'captain-mode'. He paused. "Wait, you're a lawyer?"

"Well no... But I took some classes as a teenager, before I figured out I wanted to be a pilot. I know enough."

Kirk nodded. He placed his hand on his chin, and he began to pace. His brain working faster than he thought.

"The chief says the evidence they have is Pavel's information at the scene. Written in blood on the victems chest."

From his seat on the couch, Pavel shifted his legs until they were up to his chest. He rested his head on his knees. "I just want to leave." He whispered, interrupting the conversation between his two friends.

"I know, kid. But they have to make sure they catch the real bad guy." Kirk told him, he sat down next to him. "You look exhausted, why don't you get some sleep?"

Pavel nodded, and once Kirk stood back up, he stretched out on the couch, snoring faster than they expected, he really was tired.

"So what do we do now?" The two conversed for another hour, both coming up with ideas on how to handle the situation. Suddenly, the door swung open, and the police chief entered the room.

"Another person was killed." He said, his eyes catching on the the sleeping teenager. "It was recently, but the crime was execute the same way. Does Pavel have any enemies? Anyone who may want to set him up?"

Sulu and Kirk shared a glance, both of their minds racing to find a possible clue. After a few moments, neither could think of who it could be. "None that we know of." Sulu answered.

The chief nodded. "I'm afraid this has turned from Mr. Chekov being a suspect to him being a possible target..."

Turning back, Kirk and Sulu looked at their friend, still sleeping peacefully, a deep sense of dread befalling them. This was a bigger problem than they thought.