Commander Tenson waited calmly as the Doctor adjusted the head section of the hospital bed. Lying in the bed, the Captain's eyes were both now covered with gauze dressings, making her look the part of a mummy. Her hands were listlessly moving back and forth now, as the Doctor had warned. It was an effect of the richly dangerous combination of drugs she had used to rouse the horribly injured officer.
The orders that precipitated that effort still rankled with the Doctor...one did not have to be clairvoyant to see that at present. But Tenson just gritted his teeth. "Fuck Em" he thought to himself, knowing full well the risks he was taking with his Captain and the probable source for those orders. He knew the Captain would not have questioned those orders if the roles were reversed. They both were military raised and military trained. And this was certainly a military crisis. No times for half measures or sentimentality. Time to tough it out. Gritting his teeth harder, he steeled himself to begin what probably would seem like toture to his Captain.
Pushing the Doctor aside firmly, he began, "Captain. CAPTAIN! We need you awake, Sir. CAPTAIN?"
The urgency in his voice and the questioning were an old technique. It was intended to force through the haze in the victim's mind, tripping the command imperatives, requiring an answer, requiring a response.
In a plainitive voice, the Captain muttered, coughed, licked her wounded lips and tried to speak, "Aye Sir."
"Captain, report" was all Tenson had to say, if theory were correct.
"Aye Sir" began the still dimunitive voice, almost as if it were from a long corridor, far, far away. "Trang and I were moving into a tube corridor. We heard a hissing sound. We thought it was a leak...atmosphere going. I shoved Trang on ahead, and turned back to the other side. One of us was going to make it, didn't know which...".
Her voice trailed at the end, and Tenson thought that was about all he would get. Not much, but certainly useable. But then the wounded Captain, pulled more strength from her imperatives and began again, "...I saw a small metal square, 'bout three inches square. It was damned hot and had burned through the tube seal at the intersection. I figured all I had to do was knock it loose, and it would fall to the floor. That would keep it from making the tear in flex-seal any worse. Figured we'd just patch it. When the thing hit the floor, it started glowing red and I got scared. Jumped back onto the other side of the intersection, and was drawing the quick seal when I saw a flash and fell back. That's all I remember.
Then amazingly, the fierce officer, forced out another sentence, one that jabbed to Tenson's heart.
"Station Okay?"
"Yes Sir! Station is just fine. Rest now. At Ease Soldier" intoned Tenson, resisting the urge to touch her damaged face in hopes to quiet her fears. The release imperative began its work and the Captain breathed a long sigh, so long that Tenson leaned forward, a worried look on his face.
However, after a quick check the Doctor shued them away saying, "She needs more rest now. Go away".
Not exactly a respectful request, but Tenson understood the strain on the Doctor as well, and he moved back out of the room. Next to the glass port looking into the isolation chamber, Lt. Commander Winston finished initialing her recording of the encounter and handed it to Tenson for his signature.
"What do you think" the Commander asked the young security officer.
"Remote Thermal Detonation. It's got to be."
"So how does someone do that either intentionally to get the Captain or in fact do it at all way out here without being detected?"
Sarah didn't have to think very long to figure that one out...after all she had already tagged the thought earlier. Something out of place. The sudden power surge noticed by the probe. Had to be.
"I just happen to know that there was a huge power surge detected at just about the time of the event, Sir. It could easily be tied to a huge outlay of millimeter energy like that needed for RTD".
Well she was the explosives expert around here, so Tenson decided to go along with it. For now.
"Okay, let's assume you're right. Can you pinpoint the source?"
"Not at the moment, we'll have to do a little telemetry diddling first. There is a good chance however. We will have to get access to the Pakistani probe, though".
"You don't think..."
"No, it's a long ways from being the Pakistanis. Their probe 'saw' the event Sir, it didn't cause it. But we will have to get them to open the books on the thing so we can trace back to the exact instant of the explosion."
Tenson nodded, realizing that despite the heightened need for security on board the station, they would still have to file documents, wait for the space lawyers to yell at each other, and otherwise twiddle their thumbs before getting any closer to the needed logs. Shit, what a nightmare. He certainly couldn't figure out how it could get any worse.
Just as Tenson was absorbing this, a young Ensign came around the corner with a worried look on his face.
"Sir, you'd better come to Beta sector. We've had another incident."
Tenson sighed as he and Winston took off to follow the man across station.
***
At the same time, one of Tenson's techs was going over the docking logs. He couldn't understand how he could have six ships in dock and only five logged. Someone had screwed up by the numbers, and he was sure as hell not going to be the one to catch hell for it. Screw that idea.
He swiveled in his chair and scooted over to the video log archive, and keyed in a request for the replays of the dockings over the last few hours. He would find the sixth ship and make the correction, before anyone ever knew there was a problem. Even if his log entry would show the out of sequence time/date stamp, the difference would go unnoticed. It was no big deal. It wasn't like they were trying to keep smugglers off or some stupid space opera idea. There were no pirates, and it took a huge chunk of a major country's national gross product just to get up here. It wasn't like someone could just hop in a plane and jet up here to steal some jewelry either. Things had to be a clerical error, and he was going to correct it.
***
Tenson looked at the body with disgust. It certainly had gotten worse, and in a damn fire hurry, too. An explosion might possibly be explained away. But a body with a charred hole in it was no accident. No way, no how. This would tear it for sure. Oh yeah, they could hide it for awhile, but not for long. Tongues would wag, and soon everyone would know that it wasn't just bad luck anymore, someone on board was killing people...and in a nasty way. He glanced over to Winston, seeing the same thoughts reflected in her eyes and face. It was going to be a nasty 48 hours, that was for sure.
Winston, after exchanging glances with her superior, moved her wrist piece to her mouth, mumbled something in-audible. In a moment, the lighting in the corrider switched to amber and a very large red L.E.D. came on at each of the corridor seals. Winston had, on her own authority, put the station on Red Alert. No sirens or whooping horns like in Tri-V shows, this was the real thing. Chilling and more dangerous, Martial Law was now in effect on Station III.
"Well", he said out loud, even as he was thinking it to himself. "We won't have any trouble with the Pakistanis now."
Last Updated: July 2, 1996