Bloodthirst (6 page)

Besides, isn't this how you got into trouble the last time?
Rosa's eyes had been the darkest shade of blue he'd ever seen. In a weak moment, he had lyrically compared them to sapphires. He looked away from the Andorian and forced himself to feel bitter distrust.
Competition, and nothing more.

“won't give you a demerit
this
time, because you're new,” Tomson was saying, towering over him icily. The first time he'd seen her, he'd mistaken her for an albino because of her milky complexion and white hair, which she pulled back in a tight bun. Then he'd noticed the pale, pale blue eyes and realized she must have been from one of the winter worlds. Certainly she had a personality to match. She was as light as Stanger was dark, and if the situation had not been so acutely painful for him, he would have perhaps found some humor in the trio's colorful contrast. He had had a good sense of humor, once. “But this is the first and only time I'll let you get away with it,” Tomson continued. “By tomorrow, you'd better be completely adjusted to the new schedule. No excuses.”

Stanger narrowed his lips and tried to repress the bitterness welling up in him. It wasn't a personal sort of hatred. To the contrary, he respected Tomson. She had a reputation as a good security chief, even if she exuded all the personal charm of an iceberg.

It was just that
he
should have been standing in her place, chewing someone else out instead of being chewed out himself. What Stanger needed, craved, more than anything was a promotion back to his former rank, and now here he was, late his first week of duty. And Tomson had no doubt heard every rumor about him. Stanger's tardiness had been all that was needed to convince her he was a screw-up. And she was letting him know it, in front of a third party, no less. Stanger felt his lips curl even more tightly.

“Yes, sir,” he answered stiffly, keeping his eyes focused straight ahead so that they would not meet Tomson's.

“Now, I suggest you and Ensign Lamia report to the transporter on the double, before you're any later.”

“Yes, sir.” Stanger paused. “About the ensign, sir” He nodded in Lamia's direction without looking at her. He wanted to make it clear to Tomson right away that he would not only make amends, he would go the extra mile. “I'm capable of handling this without any”

“I said you're
late
, Ensign.” Tomson's sudden sharpness made him close his mouth swiftly. “I can appreciate your desire to make points, but Lamia is going with you. Dismissed.”

From the corner of his eye, he caught the Andorian looking at him and glowered at her without Tomson catching it. He was not aboard the
Enterprise
to make friends; and if he was going to admire her appearance, he would do so without her knowing about it. The Andorian looked away quickly.

It was not an auspicious start to his tour of duty aboard the
Enterprise
.

In the transporter room, Kyle stood ready at the controls. Kirk leaned against the console and drummed his fingers lightly as he frowned at the door. The landing party, with the exception of the doctor, had yet to arrive. And in the captain's mind, the sooner he was finished with Tanis Base, the better.

McCoy knew him well enough to interpret his stance. “It's okay with me, Jim,” he volunteered. He wore a field-suit unit on his belt, but was waiting to turn it on. “I'm in no hurry.”

Kirk turned his face toward him. “You'd do anything to get out of going down there again, wouldn't you?” He almost smiled, then frowned at the door again. “Maybe I ought to give Tomson a call”

Stanger rushed through the door, which barely opened in time to avoid a collision. He was flanked by an Andorian whose name Jim tried to remember.

“Sorry, Captain.” Gasping, Stanger came to an abrupt halt in front of Kirk. “I know I'm a minute or two late—and I have no excuse. I can only promise it won't happen again, sir.”

Kirk eyed him narrowly. By the looks of him, Tomson had already probably already taken care of chewing him out, so there was no point in wasting any more time. “Ensign Stanger, isn't it?”

It was pure ruse for Stanger's benefit. Kirk remembered the man all too well. Who could forget, with all the rumors that had followed him on board? A month ago, ex-Lieutenant Stanger had been chief of security on board the
Columbia
, but had subsequently been demoted to ensign. Kirk himself had read the charge: possession of an illegal firearm. A burning phaser, a particularly cruel weapon that was looked upon with such horror by the Federation that Stanger was swiftly and severely disciplined. Stanger did not contest his demotion. He applied for an immediate transfer, but it was almost three weeks before Command could find another starship willing to take him.

When Stanger's file came to him, Kirk had noted that other than the one incident, the man's record was unblemished. “Outstanding” was more like the word for it. Stanger was liked by his fellow officers, respected by his subordinates, given high ratings by his superiors. His psych profile indicated command material. But it was the interview that convinced Kirk that the man deserved a second chance. Stanger politely declined to discuss the incident and convinced Kirk that the whole story had yet to come out. Something was eating away at Stanger.

Besides, there was something about the man Kirk liked—but at this particular moment, the captain wasn't about to let on. It was still up to Stanger to prove Kirk's instincts right.

“Yes, sir. Ensign Jon Stanger.” He winced visibly at the word “ensign.”

“Ensign Lamia,” the Andorian said boldly, thrusting a delicate blue hand at him. Her voice was whispery, the sound of the wind rustling through leaves, but she made an effort to project it so that humans could hear. She lowered her head and tilted her antennae toward the captain in a gesture of respect.

“I thought we were keeping exposure to a minimum.” Kirk looked around to catch McCoy's eye.

“Yes, sir.” Stanger straightened suddenly. “I'd be willing to go alone, Captain. After all, I've been down there before. There's no real need to risk the ensign, too.”

“That's very noble of you, Stanger.” There was a trace of irony in Kirk's voice. Stanger was trying much too hard to make points, though you could hardly blame the man for it. “But if only one of you were to go down, why wouldn't Ensign Lamia be the better choice?”

Judging from the ill-concealed irritation at Stanger in her eyes, the Andorian was more than pleased to agree with Kirk's line of reasoning. “I probably wouldn't be affected by anything down there, sir,” she responded without an instant's hesitation. Stanger gave her a sharp glance, but she kept her eyes innocently fastened on the captain.

“It's true,” McCoy piped up. He'd been standing silently, watching the exchange. “Her blood's based on cobalt. It'd be a rare bug that'd be dangerous to us and an Andorian.” He paused. “But Captain, both of them ought to go. Stanger's already been down there once and knows where everything is, and chances are Lamia's immune. The faster we get this done, the better. The longer we're down there, the greater the chance of contamination.”

“All right then,” Kirk relented, but he was not pleased. He addressed the ensigns. “You both have your cameras?”

“Yes, sir.” Stanger patted his belt as Lamia nodded in silent agreement.

“I want you to focus on their sickbay, where the bodies were found. Get everything, whether you think it's important or not. And the staff's quarters, too. Under no circumstances are either of you to turn off your suits”

“Understood, sir,” the guards chorused.

Kirk thought for a moment. “Aid the lab. I want detailed pictures of everything in the lab facility.”

“Yes, sir.” Stanger ascended the platform, closely shadowed by Ensign Lamia.

McCoy turned to Kirk. “I know how worried you are about bringing a potential hazard on board, Captain. All I can say is that we're prepared and the chance of a breakage in containment is virtually nil.”

Kirk sighed inaudibly as the doctor climbed the platform and the three of them turned on their suits. “It's the
virtual
part that bothers me, Bones.”

Stanger was ready for the darkness this time. His flashlight was lit before they dematerialized on the transporter pad. Once they beamed down to the lab, he immediately began setting up a small floodlight to illuminate the containment chamber.

McCoy moved toward the chamber and began testing the controls. One neutralized the energy field; the entrance went dark. But the doctor frowned. “We've got a problem here. I can't get the seal to the chamber open.”

“I could try to find the manual override” Stanger offered, knowing full well it meant a time-consuming search through the circuitry embedded in the bulkhead. But he was in no hurry to return to those dark corridors.

“That'll take too much time. I'll just cut a hole with the phaser.”

“It'll take some time, too, to burn through that.” Stanger nodded at the crystal casing. “I'll help. If we both do it at once”

“I think I can handle it, Stanger. You kids run along and do what you're supposed to. If I need any help, I'll just holler.”

Stanger shrugged. “Can't say I didn't try, Doctor.” He managed to sound nonchalant instead of angry.
I'm not a
kid,
dammit, I was an officer. Lamia, here, she's a kid.
He stopped the thought immediately.
Keep it up, and you'll have the beginnings of an ulcer outside of a week.

He turned and nearly ran into Lamia, who had been standing close enough to almost touch his right shoulder. The surprise of seeing her right there startled him.
Easy. It's a little early to start letting this place get to you, isn't it?
She moved with alarming speed to get out of his way.

“We'll start by searching the lab here,” he told her.

She seemed surprised. “Look, the whole point was to split up so we could get the job done faster. That's why Tomson sent both of us down.”

Are you going to question a direct order?
He almost said it, but stopped himself in time. Trying hard not to sound aggravated, he said, “We could be more thorough if we both comb over an area. That way we can check each other, in case we miss something.”

For no reason he could fathom, she took offense.
"I
don't intend to miss anything,” she said coldly. Her sharp chin was tilted up, and he had met enough male Andorians to recognize the gesture of disrespect.

He looked down at the ground for a moment until he felt he could speak without sounding angry. His quick temper was his worst failing, and he'd always worked to keep it under control. Lately, though, it had been flaring up at the most trivial things. And it certainly didn't help matters that the ensign appeared to have her own private chip on her shoulder. “I'tell you what,” he said finally. “How about a compromise? We both go off in our own directions, but we each go over the lab and sickbay.”

“I thought I should do sickbay by myself,” she challenged, gazing at him steadily, chin still in the air.

“Why?”

“We know it to be a contaminated area. It's very unlikely that I would be affected by the microbe. It would be less dangerous”

“Ensign” He broke off, letting the frustration show in his voice. “I've already been to sickbay once. For God's sake, I
fell over
one of the bodies and I survived.”

“So far,” Lamia said softly, in a tone that made him nervous.

“All right, so far. Quite frankly, my guess is you're straight from the Academy, and this is your first deep-space assignment. Am I right?”

“Yes.” She glowered at him defiantly. “And you're going to ask me how much violence I've seen, right? What do you think, that I'm going to faint when I see human blood on the floor of the sickbay?”

He didn't back down, but looked directly down into those green eyes. “How much violence
have
you seen, Ensign?”

“None. None at all. But I can handle it.” She was truly angry now, clenching her fists and leaning forward. “Just because I'm young and female”

“Female?” Stanger shook his head, truly puzzled. “For God's sake, what does being
female
have to do with our discussion?”

“Never mind.” She dropped her eyes for a moment and then looked back up at him. “Anyway, you think I'm too young to be efficient. That's it, isn't it?”

He groaned loudly and shook his head without answering her.

“You can't say it isn't true. You try to get rid of me, then you act so superior”

“How am I acting superior?”

“You keep calling me ensign. We're the same rank, in case you haven't noticed. People of the same rank call each other by name. Mine is Lamia.”

He didn't say anything for a minute. He had thought that everyone on board knew about him but she was new. She obviously hadn't heard. Finally, he said, “I'm sorry Lamia. I will try not to call you ensign anymore. If I do, let me know.”

“I will,” she said frostily.

He raised his arms in a “what more can I do?” shrug and dropped them again. “Lamia, I wasn't trying to suggest that you were incompetent. I was trying to keep from making a mistake myself by having us check each other's work. Remember, the captain said he wanted us to go over everything in the lab and the sickbay. Now can we stop arguing and get to work?”

“Amen,” came a voice from behind them. McCoy's back was to them, and orange-red heat streamed from his phaser and smoked gently where it impacted with the crystal. He had heard everything, Stanger realized, and was fed up with listening to it. Embarrassed, he turned back to Lamia.

“Do we have a deal?”

“If you mean will I check your work, I suppose so,” she answered stiffly.