Consequences
Chekov sat silently at his station, unable to explain what had happened. McCoy padded his shoulders, but the young man couldn't look up. Lieutenant Kyle had confirmed that the coordinates Mr. Spock had saved on his computer had been correct and that the beaming process had been completed. Spock's computed coordinates correlated directly to the object on Adelous 4 and the landing party should have materialised right next to it. However, a complete sensor scan of the planet had confirmed that there was no sign of human life on the planet. Neither of the Cassiopeia crew, nor of the landing party. Nor was there any sign of dead bodies. All they knew was that Scotty, Brown and Monet had dematerialised and if they had indeed re-materialised elsewhere, they had done so anywhere but on Adelous 4. Chekov asserted that he had transferred the exact coordinates to the transporter that had been saved on Mr. Spock's computer, but as evidence pointed against his claim, Kirk and Spock concluded that the Ensign must have made a mistake during the data transfer. After all, he had been under significant pressure during the recent peril when he communicated the coordinates to the transporter room.
Kirk took a deep breath and stepped down from his chair towards the navigation console.
"Did you double check that the coordinates Mr. Spock had computed before the attack did still correspond to the object on the planet before you send them to the transporter computer?"
"No, Sair, I didn't... I believed zere was no time, Keptin."
Chekov lowered his eyes in shame. He just couldn't believe that he had probably cost three men their lives. He didn't even think about the consequences for his career. His career was lost. He was a murderer, unintentional, but a murderer nevertheless.
"You had 8.2 seconds to double check the data, Ensign."
Spock stepped down from his station and came to an halt opposite Chekov, Kirk and McCoy. The doctor sent the Vulcan a look that would have shut up a Harry Fenton Mudd on Klingon energy pills. McCoy felt a strong urge to put sticky tape over Spock's mouth. Unfazed, the Vulcan continued in his rational assessment of the situation.
"Unfortunately, the actual coordinates you transferred to the transporter computer can't be checked at the moment due to a fault in its memory banks, inflicted by the recent attack."
"So zere is no way we can know where Mr. Scott and zhe others have been transported to" Chekov stated, looking even more beaten.
"That is correct, Ensign" Spock replied matter-of-factly "at least for the moment."
The First Officer turned to Kirk who was watching Chekov intensely.
"Captain, I would like to examine the transporter computer and see if I can retrieve any useful information."
Kirk nodded and walked back to his chair where he hit the com button. "Kirk to Lieutenant Kyle. Mr. Spock is on his way to assist in the repairing of the transporter memory banks."
"Acknowledged, Sir." came Kyle's muffled reply.
"Kirk out." He ended the communication by smashing his palm on the button. The Captain positioned himself in front of Chekov, demanding his attention.
"You've made an error under pressure, Mr. Chekov."
"I know Keptin...I'm sorry" was all Chekov managed say.
"Until the situation has been fully examined and we have determined the coordinates you transferred to the transporter computer, you remain on duty. Disciplinary action will become necessary if your fault has been confirmed beyond the reason of a doubt." Kirk continued in his strict command tone.
Chekov stared at the floor but nodded.
"You know Chekov, unfortunately we all have committed a serious mistake at some point in our career" McCoy sighed. Spock raised both of his eyebrows at this but remained silent. "It's how we deal with them, that counts."
Chekov felt that even though the Doctor was probably right, such a revelation didn't make him feel much better.
"Yes, Sair. I understand." Chekov pressed his lips and held his head up high. He had to remain strong. There was still a tiny bit of hope that the men would be located alive. And maybe, just maybe, this would mean that he hadn't made a mistake after all.
Suddenly, a warm smile appeared on Kirk's face. Chekov had expected anything, a tirade, shouting, unforgiving blame from the Captain but this genuine smile took him by surprise.
"Pavel..." Kirk put his hands on Chekov's shoulders, which startled him just as much as hearing his Christian name coming from the Captain's mouth.
"...you're a talented and promising ensign. Being under such pressure as we have just experienced is not an excuse for a mistake, but it makes them possible. We will find out what has happened. Until then, I'm expecting your full attention."
"Yes, Sair...but Mr. Scott and the landing party..." Chekov muttered quietly. He felt Sulu's compassionate glance, but he felt too ashamed to look at his friend.
Kirk strengthened his grip on Chekov's shoulders: "Don't beat yourself up, Ensign! I want you to assist Mr. Spock with repairing the memory banks of the transporter."
For a short moment, Chekov looked intimated by the prospect of assisting Mr. Spock with repairing the transporter computer. But he got up without hesitating.
"Yes, Keptin." Chekov quickly followed Spock off the Bridge.
McCoy put his hand on Kirk's arm and took him to the side.
"Do you think it's such a good idea to let Spock ruin the last ounces of Chekov's self-esteem by ordering the boy to assist him now?"
"Bones, I'm offering Chekov a way to help solve this mess. We have to find out what happened to our men! If I go soft on him now, he might lose his focus completely."
McCoy sighed a breath of exhaustion: "By God, I hope Scotty and his guys are alive."
Spock and Chekov had been working quietly in the transporter room side by side for several hours. They had checked every single circuit, connection and part of the memory banks possible, in the hope to retrieve the coordinates Chekov had transferred to the transporter computer and determine the landing party's fait. Lieutenant Kyle assisted them as much as he could, but even the transporter expert was short of any fruitful ideas as to how to solve the critical task at hand. Now and then Kirk dropped by to check the process first hand only to return to the Bridge with a disappointed face and no news for Uhura, Sulu and the others.
Spock knew very well that the ensign was desperate to find a way to somehow undo the mistake he very likely had committed and to prove his worth to his comrades and superiors. Chekov was displaying all signs of a human tormented by guilt that only those experienced who had inflicted suffering on other human beings. However, Spock was not willing to try to 'comfort' Chekov with any of the superficial phrases Dr. McCoy had used when he tried to convince the ensign that 'there's always hope until we have recovered their bodies' or 'we all have committed a serious mistake at some point in our career' when in actual fact Spock had never committed a serious mistake. A rigid Vulcan mind didn't allow lenience. Spock didn't seize to be amazed by the Good Doctor. McCoy was somehow maintaining his ignorance towards Vulcan superiority regarding discipline, even though they had worked side by side for a year now.
Spock made sure that Chekov was involved in their efforts to reinstall all transporter functions and its memory bank in the hope to retrieve the coordinates. If there was a chance that the landing party was still alive, Spock wanted to make Chekov understand that they would become aware of this fact and also act upon it accordingly. If it would turn out that Chekov had indeed committed a serious mistake, rectifying it would be the only realistic option for the young man to successfully continue his career in Starfleet.
"What about default settings, Mr. Spock?"
Chekov asked after several fruitless attempts to reinstall the main memory bank circuit. It had literally been melted away by a fire near the main computer banks, attained during the second, more volatile attack. For hours they had tried to fix a data storage device that actually didn't exist anymore, apart from a few platinum chips and cables, but all their efforts had been in vain.
"Do you mean factory settings such as automatic positional adjustment?" Kyle asked with a frown as he looked up from one of the platinum chips he and Mr. Spock were analysing.
"Exactly, zat's what I mean!" Chekov nodded eagerly "if I remember correctly zere should also be an automatic repeat function which repeats the last used coordinates."
Spock exchanged a quick look with Lieutenant Kyle who just shook his head in disappointment, believing that the young ensign was looking for straws to cling to. The Vulcan got up and approached Chekov who was trying to mend two disconnected cables of the interior memory bank.
"I'm afraid Mr. Chekov that none of Starfleet's starships is ever run on factory settings. They are always changed within the first days of a ship's maiden voyage, adjusted and calibrated by the engineers and command personnel to suit their professional requirements and personal preferences."
Chekov sighed. "I know. Transporter engineers hate ze automatic adjustments functions" -Kyle nodded at this- "as it takes ze 'job' out of zeir hands, so to speak."
Spock listened patiently as he could see from the ensign's determined eyes that he had real hope.
"But what if the factor settings' repeat function could somehow be reinstalled? Subsequently."
Chekov asked with a questioning look directed from Spock to Kyle and back to his superior. After a moment of contemplation, the SO raised an eyebrow and nodded:
"Indeed. We could attempt to retrieve the actual data you've send to the computer as those were the last coordinates used by the machine. Providing the automatic repeat function is still operative and hasn't been damaged."
For the first time since those fateful minutes on the Bridge a few hours ago, there was real hope in Chekov's eyes.
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Kirk sat in his captain's chair, eyes fixed on the screen that showed nothing but empty space in front of them and Adelous 4 in the far distance. They had maintained a wide orbit around the planet on impulse power, as Kirk wanted to make sure they scanned the planet and the nearby space for the enemy who had attacked them. Even though he was desperate to find out who was behind the attack, and why it had happened, the question that tormented Kirk the most was what had happened to Scotty and his men. While his crew was safe for the moment, the CEO and his two assistants' fait were unclear. They could be dead or alive, safe or in danger, anywhere or nowhere in the Universe. Another distressing question was if the attack and the disappearance were connected somehow. The uncertainty all those questions provoked hung like a dark cloud over the Captain's head. Hence, the nasty headache he had developed during the last few hours was becoming worse by the minute. He looked up gratefully as McCoy appeared on the Bridge with one of his 'magic' pills as Kirk liked to call them.
"Thanks, Bones" Kirk hastily swallowed the yellow pill and smiled at the doctor who scrutinised him with worried eyes.
"Any news from the transporter room, Jim?" Just when Kirk shook his head, Spock called through the com unit.
"Spock here, Captain."
"What is it, Spock?" Kirk and McCoy exchanged a serious look, clear concern in the eyes of both men.
"Captain, we have successfully reinstalled the transporter computer's factory settings including certain standard functions which can be adjusted and modified according the requirements of each starship and its mission."
While Spock was talking without taking a fresh breath Kirk's expression turned increasingly impatient. Full of anticipation, he leaned forward toward the com and grabbed the armrest of his chair.
"Cut to the chase, Spock!"
"I'm not aware of chasing anything, Captain."
The voice from the transporter room sounded slightly baffled.
"Unless of course, you are referring to my pursuit to find a solution for the problem at hand. However, I'm inclined to refer to it as..."
McCoy was about to explode with impatience and interrupted:
"Are you joking, you green-blooded Vulcan? In God's name, tell us what the hell is going on!"
"Doctor, I believe that..." Chekov, who could no longer hold himself back and dared to interrupt his superior, interrupted Spock's calm and unaffected voice. He sounded out of breath.
"We have reinstalled ze repeat function, Keptin, and can send a probe to ze exact coordinates I have given to ze transporter computer earlier on!"
Spock slowly turned around at the young ensign, his eyebrows sky-high. He didn't approve of being interrupted, however he had become quite accustomed to it in his years in space alongside humans, especially since he was serving alongside Dr. McCoy. Ensign Chekov was also a prime example of his race.
Kirk had congratulated Spock, Kyle and especially Chekov for their excellent work and the Russian had beamed like a 5 year-old on Christmas Day.
Kirk had reacted hopeful towards the ensign's idea of sending a probe to the coordinates Chekov had communicated to the transporter earlier on, to see if it materialised at a specific location or if it would be destroyed in the process. The simple but robust long-range communications probe Hoffmann 7, had been deemed the best possible candidate by Spock and Lieutenant Kyle. It would be the guinea pig which would hopefully herald a rescue mission.
The transporter was still so severely damaged that even though they would be able to beam the probe to the last coordinates used, it wouldn't be able to communicate the coordinates data back. It would take at least 4 more days until the transporter would be fully operational again and this function would become an option. Captain Kirk was not prepared to wait that long. They had to act now. Thankfully, the probe could also be used as a communication device to transmit encoded Starfleet messages. Mr. Scott and his assistants were familiar with such codes and if they would encounter the probe they would know how to communicate through it. Furthermore, if the coordinates would transport the probe into empty space it would also be able to communicate back to theEnterprisethat it had re-materialised in the would then know for certain that the landing party had met a tragic fate. But if the probe was beamed on a planet where humans could survive, Scotty and the others would encounter the Hoffmann 7 and be able to communicate back.
Kirk knew that the chances were slim for a positive outcome. He also had a hunch that the whole incident was connected to the unknown enemy that had tried to 'push' the Enterprise out of the local vicinity. If they only could attain more information on who attacked them and why. Maybe Chekov had transmitted the correct coordinates after all but the attacker had somehow intercepted and altered them? If that was the case, they would at least know that it hadn't been Chekov's fault should the results of the probe turn out negative. If the incident could be blamed on the invisible alien attacker the youngster's conscience would be freed of its guilt.
The Captain's mind was occupied with those thoughts as he watched the young navigator nervously playing with his hands, eyes fixed on the floor, while the leading officers gathered in Conference Room 2. Apart from Kirk, Spock and Chekov, McCoy, Sulu, Uhura and Kyle were present at the crisis meeting.
Uhura was just finishing her report on how long it could take the probe to reply to the Enterprise or a Starfleet outpost. Her proposed time-scale spanned from an immediate reply to thousands of years in the future, depending on the distance from the destination the probe had been transported to and the ship.
After his initial enthusiasm, Uhura's discouraging computations, made Chekov feel as disheartened as he had been before his breakthrough idea. He was well aware that the transporter was capable to beam an inanimate object of a small size that far away, if the coordinates dictated so, but the disassembled molecules of a human body would not survive such a distance. Hence, the longer it would take the probe to reply, the more unlikely it would be that Scotty and his men were still alive.
"50.34 minutes."
Spock reminded everyone of the exact time left they were allowed to hope for a reply. After that time the probe would be too far away for any human to have survived the beaming process.
Chekov looked like he'd like to disappear into thin air. McCoy directed a sharp look towards Spock which was received with a raised eyebrow that reached the SO's hairline. The doctor crossed his arms, but uncharacteristically, he refrained from replying to Spock's mimicry with a critical comment. Bones didn't want to unnerve Chekov any further.
The sombre mood in the conference room was becoming more unbearable with any minute that passed. Even Sulu's light-hearted attempts to entertain the attendees with stories of his newly attained flesh-eating plant from Rigel 6 were met with tired smiles. Kirk sensed how the pressure was staining Chekov's nerves. The ensign was white as a sheet. McCoy exchanged a worried look with the Captain. Kirk got up and put a hand on Chekov's shoulder. The navigator was startled by the touch and lifted his head.
"You may wait in your quarters if you prefer to do so, Pavel. There's no need for you to wait here. In fact" - at this the captain turned to the others - "you can all chose a way to pass the short time left that seems bearable to you."
No one got up. The thought of being alone right now didn't appeal to anyone.
"May I request to stay with you, Sair, I mean with the officers?" Chekov blushed at his own clumsiness but Kirk replied with a warm smile
"Of course."
Because scans had indicated no enemy vessels or alien presence on Adelous V or in the wider vicinity of the Enterpriseand as the Bridge was in the safe hands of the Gamma shift, there was no need for any of the attending officers to be on their posts. Indeed, all they could do at this moment was wait. And they preferred to wait together. A soft smile appeared on Kirk's lips as he thought of this and he gratefully took a glass of Brandy from McCoy's hand. The doctor had left the room a few minutes earlier to 'get some medicine' and had returned with a large bottle of his best Saurian Brandy.
"Time's up, Captain." Spock's calmly spoken words were still ringing in his ears. Chekov had exchanged a brief look with Sulu, sensing his friend's agony at his own desperation. He had immediately requested to return to his post, stubbornly maintaining a brave face even though he was screaming inside. But he couldn't fool Captain Kirk. His CO had send him directly to his quarters with the unambiguous orders to 'relax' until further notice.
Now, Pavel was lying in his bed but contrary to the Captain's order he was wide awake and far from being relaxed. Mr. Scott and his men were dead and it was his fault. A fatal mistake on his first day on the Enterprise had cost three good men their lives. Pavel turned on his side, pulling the blanket up to his chin. Tears welled up in his eyes. How he wished to talk to his parents right now. Especially to his father who was so proud on his achievements. But how could he ever explain his mistake to them, how could he tell them of his carelessness? Pavel started to sob and wasn't even ashamed to do so. There was nothing he could do.
Review! As always, comments and feedback are welcome. This was a rather 'technical' chapter but the next chapters will focus on the human (and Vulcan) conflicts again.