Fic: "Crossfire" (17/19)
Title: "Crossfire, Part 17"
Author: Mijan
Series: ST: XI
Character/Pairing(s): Kirk&McCoy, Pike, Scotty
Rating: PG-13
Author’s Notes: This story is part of the Academy-era story arc, which includes “Convergence” and “And All the King’s Men.” “Crossfire” is a direct sequel. Several things in this story will not make sense unless you’ve read AAtKM first.
Summary: Jim Kirk and Leonard McCoy are on top of the world at the academy until it all comes crashing down around them. Trapped in their own mystery of politics, sabotage, and possible murder, it quickly becomes impossible to know who to trust. Worse, Jim might still be a target. With a dangerous criminal on the loose and Academy leadership not doing enough, Jim and Bones have to get their lives back together and find out what happened... before it happens again.
*********
CROSSFIRE, Part Seventeen
At least the flight team hadn’t treated him any differently.
Okoru had met him at the door of the Student Center at 1100 hours. The rest of the team was waiting for them inside. Once ensconced in a study room, away from the burning glares from other cadets, the whole story came tumbling out. Even the fact that he was going to see a counselor. Psychiatrist sounded too serious, and he wasn’t ready to share that yet. Although Jim had felt nothing but a cold and distant ache at the thought of how thoroughly he’d embarrassed himself, his team unilaterally swore to stand by him. In fact, Thaleb - Good old Thaleb - had actually praised Jim for his vigilance.
But still, just as he’d feared, the story had spread all over campus. People in his two morning classes had looked at him warily as if he was about to snap at any moment. Looks of pity, distrust, and disdain mixed in the throng of cadets as he’d made his way from his morning classes to the student center, and after he’d left the solace of his team’s company, the looks felt even more scathing as he walked alone to the mess hall.
He did his best to ignore the other cadets around him as he went through the sandwich bar line, and quickly found a seat in the far corner of the mess hall. It didn’t much matter. Food had lost its appeal long before he’d made more than a slight dent in his chicken sandwich and salad.
See, Bones? Healthy stuff. He wished Bones were there, but the guy had clinic duty. He felt like the eyes of the entire academy population were drilling holes in the back of his neck. Maybe I’m still paranoid, he thought miserably. Wonder what the shrink is gonna say. Of course, that thought only made him more miserable and less hungry. Finally, giving up on food, he chucked the tray in the reprocessor, and left the mess hall.
He had almost an hour before his next class, so he settled on going back to the student center to study until then. There were small, private study rooms on the second floor. Nobody to stare at him.
He took the walkway from the mess hall to the student center, looking outside at the cold, gray skies of November, and shivering slightly despite the warm air in the walkway. It really was a cold, uncaring universe out there. He should have known.
The student center was fairly quiet as he walked through the main entryway and across the central foyer and open social area. It was a low room full of columns, half walls, and seating that broke the area into small sections for groups to meet and socialize. Clusters of cadets were scattered around the hall, their voices muffled by the soft corners and wall segments. Vid screens in a few corners broadcast campus, Starfleet, and Federation news.
Snippets of conversation reached Jim’s ears as he hurried towards the stairs at the far end of the room. He didn’t make eye contact with anyone, but he felt like the world was staring at him. Just a couple more minutes, and he could be ensconced in the privacy of a study room, away from pitying and judgmental eyes alike.
“... and now that team is pulling out of the engine competition, and I say it’s because Kirk jumped them in the shuttle hangar.”
Jim stopped short at the sound of his name. The conversation was coming from behind one of the low walls. He knew that he that he probably shouldn’t, but he couldn’t resist - he had to know what was being said. Moving quickly, he sat behind the wall, where he could hear the conversation and not be seen. He grabbed his PADD from his bag and pretended to be studying it, so it wouldn’t look odd to any passerby.
“That makes sense,” another voice replied. “I mean, I’d hardly feel like sticking around if I was going to get tackled by paranoid cadets.”
Jim bristled. Keep it together. Stay quiet.
“Come on, Yan, you can hardly call him paranoid. He’s been through hell, and you’ve gotta admit, with increased security, it probably looked really odd to see a bunch of unknown civilians messing around with a shuttle late at night.”
Jim blinked in surprise. That was Cadet Romano’s voice. Of all people, why was Romano defending him?
“Maybe,” the female voice - Yan - replied to Romano. “But when you start attacking random civilians because you think someone sabotaged your shuttle -”
“Maybe someone did mess with his shuttle,” Romano said firmly.
“If they had, then they would have announced something from the investigation. They didn’t say a word, so I’d guess Kirk just crashed the shuttle himself and the Academy didn’t want their little son-of-a-hero’s name ruined.”
Jim clutched the edges of his PADD so tightly he was afraid he’d snap it, clenching his jaw furiously to keep himself from speaking out, but the another voice spoke up.
“Easy there, Yan,” came a firm female’s voice. “Kirk knows how to fly. You should see his test scores. He’s at the top of his damned class, and that’s got nothing to do with his father. He works his tail off. If his shuttle went down, you can bet your ass that there was something wrong with the shuttle, not Kirk.”
Jim didn’t recognize that voice, and maybe it was better that way. The sound of someone defending his abilities... it was both an extremely welcomed relief, and also a bit uncomfortable.
“Exactly,” Romano cut in again. “The guy knows what he’s doing. And nobody said it was sabotage, precisely...”
“Kirk did,” someone else said sharply. “Everyone who was in the hangar heard him.”
“There weren’t many people in the hangar, so how can we really verify that? And... yeah, it’s possible someone altered it, but we can’t be sure it was sabotage.” Romano’s voice didn’t sound quite right, and Jim clenched his teeth again. Now there was no doubt in his mind that Admiral Romano had told his son all about the investigation.
Classified material, you bastard.
“I agree with Yan. If someone did sabotage - or alter - the shuttle,” came another voice, a bass-toned male this time, “I’d think the Academy would have announced it. But they haven’t said anything. Even if Kirk didn’t cause the crash, why not announce the results of the investigation? ”
“Security, probably,” said another voice. “You know they don’t tell us everything.”
“And by the way, Romano, why the hell are you defending Kirk?” the deep male voice asked. “I thought you couldn’t stand him.”
“I respect him,” came Romano’s fervent reply. “And you ought to as well.”
Jim’s mouth fell open as he stared blankly at the screen of his PADD. That was the last thing he’d ever expected to hear. Sure, he knew that he and Romano had a mutual professional respect despite their rivalry, but hearing it so directly was... surprising.
“Then why are you always making comments about him?”
“Because what cadet wants to admit they’ve been bested by someone ranked below them? Come on. Nadeau, you were on his sim squad last year. Tell me what you think.”
“He’s annoyingly good,” Nadeau admitted as Jim blinked again in further surprise at the sound of his old squad mate’s voice. “Okay, so he’s just good. Really good. We all respected him. And he’s got good instincts. At least, he did until yesterday.”
“Maybe he still does,” Romano said, his tone still sounding odd. “Just misplaced. But think about it - if your shuttle had been altered somehow, and you’d crashed, and one of us had died next to you, wouldn’t you be looking for the person who did it?”
“I suppose.” That was Yan.
“And wouldn’t you be just a little bit on-edge about it? And more likely to jump if you thought someone was about to hurt someone else?”
There was a murmur of agreement from the group, and Jim felt a flash of vindication.
“Okay, so regardless of what Kirk did or didn’t do... now that the engine competition is open for submissions again, what do you think is going to happen?” asked one of the male voices Kirk didn’t recognize. “Do you think they’re going to start from scratch, or just open it up to the smaller pool of candidates they’d already picked from an earlier round? Or maybe just stick with the three remaining teams? I know a team of cadets had tried to submit a design at one point, but they didn’t make it past the second round of eliminations.”
“Who knows? But could you imagine what that would do for a person’s career with Starfleet? If I were in the engineering program, I’d be trying for it. Romano, your father is in the Engineering section, right? What does he think?”
“I... uh... he really doesn’t talk about work much. I mean, I barely even see him. I’m specializing in security and tactics, so I’ve got nothing to do with the engineering stuff. And when I do see him, he really doesn’t talk about work.” He laughed, and it was an uncomfortable sound. “Besides, if I spoke to him at home about work, next thing I know, he’s the Admiral and I’m the Cadet, and that just gets weird.”
There was laughing all around, and Jim frowned. Had the Admiral told Romano about the investigation or not? Now, Jim wasn’t so sure. There was no way to know, and Jim wasn’t about to ask.
“Come on, guys,” Romano said, “are we going to review for this test or not?”
“Okay, okay.”
The chatter turned to landing party security, and Jim knew he’d heard enough. Tucking his PADD back in his bag, he slid off the seat and ducked away. The last thing he wanted was to be noticed by the group here.
*********
By the time Jim made it back to his dorm, he was tired of dealing with sentient life in all its variations, and really wanted nothing more than crawl into bed and pretend the world didn’t exist for a few hours. He’d known that facing the consequences of his debacle the previous night would be rough, but he hadn’t expected it to be quite so bad.
Despite the boost of assurance he’d felt after overhearing the conversation from Romano’s study group, the confidence was quickly spent. The wary looks from his fellow cadets hadn’t stopped all day. He’d overheard more than a few harsh comments. And then, to make matters worse, he’d received a communiqué from Pike at the end of his last class, apologizing, but ordering him to meet with a counselor that afternoon. Apparently, some higher brass in security and engineering had demanded it. They couldn’t let some crazy, civilian-attacking cadet wander loose around campus without having been fully analyzed by the shrink of their choice. Pike’s message promised that once he saw the psychiatrist Bones had recommended, he’d be able to ditch the counselor, but it didn’t stop him from sitting through an hour of pseudo-sympathy, which had only succeeded in making him more frustrated.
As he’d talked, he realized that even with the most rational thoughts he could muster, he couldn’t dismiss the ongoing, burning anger that there was still someone out there, wandering free, who had caused the whole thing. That whatever the investigation had found, or hadn’t found, he didn’t know.
And given the current circumstances, chances were that he’d never know. Documents had been buried more deeply than even he could hack. The physical evidence had either been vaporized or locked away in rooms he’d never have clearance to enter. All he had left were his gnawing suspicions that he had to ignore and forget if he ever wanted to get his head back to normal.
Still, he couldn’t talk about his suspicions without the lady hmmm’ing and aaaaah’ing with infuriating calmness. So fucking obnoxious. It felt condescending. Why the hell people thought counseling was such a wonderful thing was beyond him.
So, by the end of the day, he was sick of talking, sick of listening, and sick to death of needing to explain himself. At least his roommate, if he was there, was usually pretty good about keeping to himself as long as Jim left him alone to his gadgets and study notes. This could be a quiet night in his own room, and maybe he could talk to Bones tomorrow, and they could go into the city if Bones didn’t have clinic duty.
He needed to get away for a while. Re-set his thoughts. Take a deep breath. This sucked, but he could get through it.
The turbolift dropped Jim at his floor, and he made his way down the hall. As he got to his door, he was just about to punch in his access code when he heard voices from inside the room. Jim frowned. Sven hadn’t brought anyone to the dorm room since they’d become roommates at the beginning of the year.
Feeling a bit odd spying on his own dorm room, Jim pressed his ear to the door.
“... and if you think I’m going to give up now, just when they’ve opened the field for submissions again, you’re delusional.” That was Sven.
“Listen, I’m not saying you should give up, I’m... well, maybe I am. But Hagenbuch, it’s too risky. I helped you before because I didn’t think it was risky. Or dangerous.” And that was...
That’s Romano. What the fuck is going on here?
“You helped me before because you wanted some of the credit if it worked.”
“Well, that too, but -”
“And I would have to thank you - you distracted the girl who remained behind while the rest of the squad went to breakfast. I hadn’t anticipated them leaving a guard.”
“I shouldn’t have done -”
“You did.”
“Okay, so yeah. But I’m telling you now, if you try this again, I’ll report you. Right to the top, not to my father.”
Sven laughed, and Jim hadn’t known the guy could sound that... nasty. “And if you do that, you’re going down, too.”
“You think I don’t know that? That’s why I’m saying you need to stop this now. It’s not worth it. For fuck’s sake, Sven - a cadet died. Doesn’t that mean more to you than your fucking engine design?”
Jim blinked. Felt his mouth fall open. No. This isn’t right. It’s impossible. It’s paranoia. This isn’t -
“If Kirk hadn’t altered the engine schematic during his flight, the test device would have been harmless. It would have continued tracking engine output and rerouting power, only. But the power reroute clashed with his modifications.”
NO.
“Why’d you have to use his shuttle, Sven? God, Kirk’s the one guy on campus who wouldn’t let an efficiency drop go unnoticed. Of all the people, why him?”
“Because I have his passcode. He’s very predictable, and not so careful around me. When I showed him a few engineering tricks, I saw him use it. So I had access to his shuttle.”
“Are you really that heartless?”
“I’m a scientist. I care for results.” There was a loud thud. “If you hadn’t caught me in the hangar the first time, you would have nothing to do with this, just as if Kirk had not touched the engine, he would not have crashed. This is not your design. If you want out of this, leave now. But my research is too important. And now that there’s a chance to have my design accepted for the competition, I need to try it again.”
Jim felt a deep fury slowly building in his chest as his shoulders tightened and fists clenched. This wasn’t paranoia. This was real. It was right in front of him, and there was no way to mistake what he was hearing.
“Then do it the right way! Talk to the Engineering research admins. I’ll pull strings with my father. Just don’t -” Romano was pleading now.
“My proposal was rejected twice,” Sven said flatly, “without the Engineering professors even testing the computer models. I approached one of the engineering teams in the competition with my design, and they also rejected me. It’s because I’m only a Cadet Third Class. But my design is flawless. It’s going to work. And I’m going to do it. So either get out of my way, or we both take the fall. And I doubt you’re willing to sacrifice your career either.”
And Jim had heard quite enough. He punched his passcode into the door panel, and as soon as it slid opened, be burst into the room.
Romano and Sven were almost nose-to-nose, but turned in shock as Jim stormed in. “I’ve heard enough.”
“Kirk! I... you were... you heard...” Romano stammered, eyes wide with fear.
“Shut up! You knew all along. The whole fucking time, Romano!” He stepped up to Sven, glaring. Heat and red crept up in his vision as his world zoomed in on the pale, peaky face of his roommate. “And you. You... you fucking bastard! It was you! You -”
For a second, Jim’s gaze slipped past Sven’s shoulder to the desk, covered in its usual mess of electronic bits and equipment, but this time, there was also something disturbingly familiar. It was a small box-shaped device. A few wires and conduits protruded from various ports on the box. Generally, it was quite nondescript, but familiar... so familiar. And then it all clicked together, memory coming back to him in a dizzying rush.
He’d seen that box before. Just once. In the shuttlecraft engine. Moments before he’d crashed.
Growling, he shoved Sven out of the way and grabbed the device off the desk. “This was it, wasn’t it? A goddamned fucking test device! This caused the mess in the engine!” With a howl of rage, he hurled the box across the room, narrowly missing Sven’s head. It slammed into the bookshelf, sending a row of books, holo frames, and other items crashing violently to the ground.
“Kirk, calm down. Let’s -”
“DON’T! Don’t fucking talk to me, Romano!” he snarled as he stormed at Sven, grabbing the guy by the shoulders and pushing him back against the wall, slamming him hard with a satisfying thud. “You should have reported this. You should have fucking told me, you asshole! Tell me why I shouldn’t break your fucking neck, you goddamned bastard!”
Confronted by the sudden physicality, Sven only gaped at him wordlessly, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Jim shook him, slamming him against the wall again. “Well!? Give me one goddamned reason why I shouldn’t! You wanted to practice your engineering bullshit on my shuttlecraft. Tell me why I shouldn’t practice my hand-to-hand on you! Tell me!”
Romano held up a hand. “Kirk, don’t... it’s not - ”
“Shut up!” Jim hauled his arm back, cocking his elbow and clenching his hand into a fist. Sven squeezed his eyes shut, like the pathetic coward he was, and that was all it took. With a roar of fury, Jim drove his fist right past Sven’s face, missing his nose by inches, and smashed his hand clear through the wall.
The room went dead silent. Slowly, Jim pulled his fist out of the hole he’d just made in the duraplast wallboard, noting with a sick satisfaction that the edges of the hole had blood on them. Sven’s eyes popped open when he realized that Jim wasn’t about to hit him, and he stared with terrified eyes, clearly not sure if he should stay very still or run for his life.
Jim took a step back, but lowered his head, glaring darkly. “Get out,” he growled. “Both of you. Get out.”
Romano took a hesitant step towards him. “Kirk, maybe -”
“I said get the fuck out of here!”
Sven blinked once, and then moved faster than Jim had ever seen him move before. He grabbed his boots without putting them on and rushed out the door. Romano stopped in the doorway. For a moment, looked like he was going to say something, but Jim took a step towards him, and he went slightly pale and hurried out the door.
The door slid shut, and Jim was alone in the room. He felt like something had been ripped from him.
There had been no malicious sabotage.
It hadn’t been Terra Prime.
It wasn’t attempted murder.
It had been his fucking roommate, doing a goddamned experiment.
And if he’d left it alone... hadn’t tried to fix the unexplained drop in efficiency... like Tambe had told him... Tambe would still be alive.
It was all so... pointless.
He felt so numb that it almost came as a surprise that his hand started to ache. Jim lifted up his right hand and stared at it in detached amusement at the blood oozing down from his smashed knuckles. A couple of bones were obviously broken.
Bones. A twisted laugh worked its way through his throat. Bones. What would Bones say?
With another laugh like a sob, Jim pulled his communicator off his belt with his left hand and flipped it open.
“Kirk to McCoy.”
A few seconds passed. “McCoy here. Jim, what’s going on?”
“Bones... I need you to come to my dorm room.”
“Jim? Are you okay? You don’t sound right, kid.”
Another laugh slipped past the choke in his throat. This one sounded even more like a sob. “No, Bones. It’s not right. It’s really, really not alright.”
“Jim... I... just stay there. I’m coming, okay? Just stay there.” He sounded worried.
“I’m not going anywhere, Bones.” He flipped the comm unit shut and numbly placed it back on his belt as he took a few steps through the room. He wanted to smash something, but at the same time, it was so numb and distant, he just couldn’t dredge up the energy to do it. He was tired, so tired.
Another laugh - no, this time, it was really nothing but a sob - broke the silence in the room. And then another. He walked to the far wall and pressed his back against it as he slid to the floor, laughing and sobbing all at once at the cruelty of a universe that never gave a shit and never would.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
*********
Time turned into a stuffy fog around Jim; thick and unmoving, holding him in place. Even if he hadn’t promised Bones he wouldn’t move, he couldn’t have done so anyway. His limbs felt heavy and dead, and even his skin didn’t feel like his own. The air in the room was cold and stinging, but it was too much effort to tell the computer to raise the temperature.
The chime of the door broke through the thickness, and time almost moved again. Bones was outside in the hallway, pounding at the door now. The thought that he should answer the door briefly crossed Jim’s mind, but his mouth just didn’t want to form words. And somehow, he didn’t think his legs would hold him if he tried to get up. It didn’t matter- Bones had his access code. It didn’t matter. Everything was numb, and it didn’t fucking matter.
So pointless. So wrong. Didn’t fucking matter.
And then Bones was there in front of him, saying something. There was a familiar whirring sound, and a warm hand was slapping his cheek. He blinked a few times, feeling slow and sluggish.
“Jim, goddammit, answer me!”
“I’m... here, Bones.” His voice sounded so rusting and dry, hardly like his own voice.
A heavy sigh of relief from Bones. “Thank God... Jim, what the hell did you do to your hand? You...” The familiar sound was a tricorder near his head, Jim finally realized. “Kid, you’re in shock. Talk to me. What happened?”
“I punched the wall. Better than... than punching... punching Sven. It was... it was Sven.” Something tight spasmed in his chest, like a bitter laugh or a sob, he wasn’t sure which. “And Romano knew... he knew... but it was Sven...”
A hypospray hissed against his neck, and Bones was checking his pulse manually and shaking his head with a frown. It was all so distant. “Your roommate? What about him?”
“He did it, Bones. Engineering experiment. The shuttle crash. Sven did it.”
Bones' head shot up, eyes wide. He stared for a few seconds, and the intensity and shock in that gaze was the only thing that pierced the haze around Jim’s brain. Then Bones blinked a couple of times and quickly stowed his tricorder. “We need to get you to the infirmary. Fix that hand of yours.”
“And report Sven,” Jim said, still feeling detached from his own voice.
“Yes, Jim... and report Sven.”
The world spun dizzily around him as Bones helped him to his feet, supporting him as he stumbled. The parka Bones wrapped around him felt heavy and suffocating. He didn’t understand why he was so shaky. It was cold inside, but even colder outside, and he couldn’t stop shivering. He only distantly recognized the fact that Bones was dressing him, helping him walk, leading him. Didn’t matter... it was all too far away. None of it fucking mattered.
There was a transport vehicle arriving in front of his dorm as they reached the walkway - Bones must have called it - and someone was pulling a stretcher out of the back.
“Come on, Jim. Lie down.”
He was too dazed to protest.
The trip to the infirmary was a blur. Bones kept asking him questions... about Sven, about Romano, about what happened. He might have answered. He was pretty sure he did, but it all crumpled together.
The lights of the infirmary waiting room were glaring and bright after the dull gray of late evening and the dim interior of the vehicle. He kept talking as Bones brought him to a room. He was deposited on a biobed, and there was motion around him. Voices. Someone doing something to his hand. Another hypospray, and darkness finally crept up around him.
*********
The sensation of a slow wake-up reached Jim through layers of fog and darkness. There was a hand on his shoulder and a familiar voice nearby.
“Bones...?” He blinked a few times, and the familiar face to match the voice swam into focus.
“Yeah, kid. I’m here.”
Jim groaned and reached up a hand to scrub at his face, only to be met by the fact that his hand was encased in a duraplast splint. Grumbling as he began to remember flashes of the events that had brought him here, he reached up with his other hand and rubbed his eyes. “How long have I been out?”
“Seven hours, Jim.”
That caught Jim’s attention. “Seven hours?” He scrambled awkwardly to sit up, and Bones helped him. “You kept me sedated for seven hours?”
“I didn’t sedate you, Jim,” Bones said tiredly, and Jim finally noticed the deep circles under his eyes. “You passed out. As soon as I gave you pain meds for your hand, you were out cold.”
Jim frowned. “My hand... it... it didn’t hurt.”
Bones merely snorted. “I’m not surprised. You were in a pretty nasty state of shock, and I’m going to guess that it had absolutely nothing to do with your hand. I’m surprised you were speaking as coherently as you did.” His expression became serious. “You said a lot.”
“I said...” Jim felt his eyes go wide. “Sven... and Romano. Shit... Bones, did I tell you? It was Sven. I... I got back to the room, and I heard -”
“Whoa, Jim. Slow down.” He rested a warm hand on Jim’s shoulder. “Yes, you told me. And yes, you were out of it, but I know you, Jim. And I knew this was real, not paranoia. So I contacted Captain Pike.”
Jim blinked a few times. “You contacted Pike?” he echoed vaguely.
Bones nodded. “I did. And a lot has happened in seven hours.”
“But it’s...” Jim glanced up at the chrono on the wall. “It’s 0200 hours. On a Friday night... Saturday morning.. Nothing happens on a Friday night.”
“It did this time, kid. A whole lot happened. But you’ll find out more later, once the dust settles.” The hand resting on Jim’s shoulder squeezed a bit tighter. “Pike's on top of things, though. They’re still working on it, but I think he's got a good handle on stuff. He said he wants to speak to you in the morning.”
A cold knot settled in Jim’s gut. “He wants... oh fuck. Am I in trouble again?"
Bones shook his head gently. “No, Jim. You’re not in trouble. Not at all.” He withdrew his hand. “But you are exhausted and recovering from a pretty rough evening.”
“Then I… guess I should go back to my dorm room.”
“Actually, you’re coming back to my dorm.”
Jim frowned. “I only broke my hand. I’m fine.”
Bones pressed his lips into a grim line. “Even if you were, your room is being treated as a crime scene right now. No access. At least Pike was good enough to ask the security team guarding it to get your PADD and some clean clothes for you.”
All Jim could say was, “Oh.”
Bones chuckled lightly as he reached over to the hook on the wall and grabbed a parka. He stood in front of Jim as he wrapped it around his shoulders. “Come on, kid. Let’s get you home.”
*********
(To Part Eighteen...)
Author: Mijan
Series: ST: XI
Character/Pairing(s): Kirk&McCoy, Pike, Scotty
Rating: PG-13
Author’s Notes: This story is part of the Academy-era story arc, which includes “Convergence” and “And All the King’s Men.” “Crossfire” is a direct sequel. Several things in this story will not make sense unless you’ve read AAtKM first.
Summary: Jim Kirk and Leonard McCoy are on top of the world at the academy until it all comes crashing down around them. Trapped in their own mystery of politics, sabotage, and possible murder, it quickly becomes impossible to know who to trust. Worse, Jim might still be a target. With a dangerous criminal on the loose and Academy leadership not doing enough, Jim and Bones have to get their lives back together and find out what happened... before it happens again.
*********
CROSSFIRE, Part Seventeen
At least the flight team hadn’t treated him any differently.
Okoru had met him at the door of the Student Center at 1100 hours. The rest of the team was waiting for them inside. Once ensconced in a study room, away from the burning glares from other cadets, the whole story came tumbling out. Even the fact that he was going to see a counselor. Psychiatrist sounded too serious, and he wasn’t ready to share that yet. Although Jim had felt nothing but a cold and distant ache at the thought of how thoroughly he’d embarrassed himself, his team unilaterally swore to stand by him. In fact, Thaleb - Good old Thaleb - had actually praised Jim for his vigilance.
But still, just as he’d feared, the story had spread all over campus. People in his two morning classes had looked at him warily as if he was about to snap at any moment. Looks of pity, distrust, and disdain mixed in the throng of cadets as he’d made his way from his morning classes to the student center, and after he’d left the solace of his team’s company, the looks felt even more scathing as he walked alone to the mess hall.
He did his best to ignore the other cadets around him as he went through the sandwich bar line, and quickly found a seat in the far corner of the mess hall. It didn’t much matter. Food had lost its appeal long before he’d made more than a slight dent in his chicken sandwich and salad.
See, Bones? Healthy stuff. He wished Bones were there, but the guy had clinic duty. He felt like the eyes of the entire academy population were drilling holes in the back of his neck. Maybe I’m still paranoid, he thought miserably. Wonder what the shrink is gonna say. Of course, that thought only made him more miserable and less hungry. Finally, giving up on food, he chucked the tray in the reprocessor, and left the mess hall.
He had almost an hour before his next class, so he settled on going back to the student center to study until then. There were small, private study rooms on the second floor. Nobody to stare at him.
He took the walkway from the mess hall to the student center, looking outside at the cold, gray skies of November, and shivering slightly despite the warm air in the walkway. It really was a cold, uncaring universe out there. He should have known.
The student center was fairly quiet as he walked through the main entryway and across the central foyer and open social area. It was a low room full of columns, half walls, and seating that broke the area into small sections for groups to meet and socialize. Clusters of cadets were scattered around the hall, their voices muffled by the soft corners and wall segments. Vid screens in a few corners broadcast campus, Starfleet, and Federation news.
Snippets of conversation reached Jim’s ears as he hurried towards the stairs at the far end of the room. He didn’t make eye contact with anyone, but he felt like the world was staring at him. Just a couple more minutes, and he could be ensconced in the privacy of a study room, away from pitying and judgmental eyes alike.
“... and now that team is pulling out of the engine competition, and I say it’s because Kirk jumped them in the shuttle hangar.”
Jim stopped short at the sound of his name. The conversation was coming from behind one of the low walls. He knew that he that he probably shouldn’t, but he couldn’t resist - he had to know what was being said. Moving quickly, he sat behind the wall, where he could hear the conversation and not be seen. He grabbed his PADD from his bag and pretended to be studying it, so it wouldn’t look odd to any passerby.
“That makes sense,” another voice replied. “I mean, I’d hardly feel like sticking around if I was going to get tackled by paranoid cadets.”
Jim bristled. Keep it together. Stay quiet.
“Come on, Yan, you can hardly call him paranoid. He’s been through hell, and you’ve gotta admit, with increased security, it probably looked really odd to see a bunch of unknown civilians messing around with a shuttle late at night.”
Jim blinked in surprise. That was Cadet Romano’s voice. Of all people, why was Romano defending him?
“Maybe,” the female voice - Yan - replied to Romano. “But when you start attacking random civilians because you think someone sabotaged your shuttle -”
“Maybe someone did mess with his shuttle,” Romano said firmly.
“If they had, then they would have announced something from the investigation. They didn’t say a word, so I’d guess Kirk just crashed the shuttle himself and the Academy didn’t want their little son-of-a-hero’s name ruined.”
Jim clutched the edges of his PADD so tightly he was afraid he’d snap it, clenching his jaw furiously to keep himself from speaking out, but the another voice spoke up.
“Easy there, Yan,” came a firm female’s voice. “Kirk knows how to fly. You should see his test scores. He’s at the top of his damned class, and that’s got nothing to do with his father. He works his tail off. If his shuttle went down, you can bet your ass that there was something wrong with the shuttle, not Kirk.”
Jim didn’t recognize that voice, and maybe it was better that way. The sound of someone defending his abilities... it was both an extremely welcomed relief, and also a bit uncomfortable.
“Exactly,” Romano cut in again. “The guy knows what he’s doing. And nobody said it was sabotage, precisely...”
“Kirk did,” someone else said sharply. “Everyone who was in the hangar heard him.”
“There weren’t many people in the hangar, so how can we really verify that? And... yeah, it’s possible someone altered it, but we can’t be sure it was sabotage.” Romano’s voice didn’t sound quite right, and Jim clenched his teeth again. Now there was no doubt in his mind that Admiral Romano had told his son all about the investigation.
Classified material, you bastard.
“I agree with Yan. If someone did sabotage - or alter - the shuttle,” came another voice, a bass-toned male this time, “I’d think the Academy would have announced it. But they haven’t said anything. Even if Kirk didn’t cause the crash, why not announce the results of the investigation? ”
“Security, probably,” said another voice. “You know they don’t tell us everything.”
“And by the way, Romano, why the hell are you defending Kirk?” the deep male voice asked. “I thought you couldn’t stand him.”
“I respect him,” came Romano’s fervent reply. “And you ought to as well.”
Jim’s mouth fell open as he stared blankly at the screen of his PADD. That was the last thing he’d ever expected to hear. Sure, he knew that he and Romano had a mutual professional respect despite their rivalry, but hearing it so directly was... surprising.
“Then why are you always making comments about him?”
“Because what cadet wants to admit they’ve been bested by someone ranked below them? Come on. Nadeau, you were on his sim squad last year. Tell me what you think.”
“He’s annoyingly good,” Nadeau admitted as Jim blinked again in further surprise at the sound of his old squad mate’s voice. “Okay, so he’s just good. Really good. We all respected him. And he’s got good instincts. At least, he did until yesterday.”
“Maybe he still does,” Romano said, his tone still sounding odd. “Just misplaced. But think about it - if your shuttle had been altered somehow, and you’d crashed, and one of us had died next to you, wouldn’t you be looking for the person who did it?”
“I suppose.” That was Yan.
“And wouldn’t you be just a little bit on-edge about it? And more likely to jump if you thought someone was about to hurt someone else?”
There was a murmur of agreement from the group, and Jim felt a flash of vindication.
“Okay, so regardless of what Kirk did or didn’t do... now that the engine competition is open for submissions again, what do you think is going to happen?” asked one of the male voices Kirk didn’t recognize. “Do you think they’re going to start from scratch, or just open it up to the smaller pool of candidates they’d already picked from an earlier round? Or maybe just stick with the three remaining teams? I know a team of cadets had tried to submit a design at one point, but they didn’t make it past the second round of eliminations.”
“Who knows? But could you imagine what that would do for a person’s career with Starfleet? If I were in the engineering program, I’d be trying for it. Romano, your father is in the Engineering section, right? What does he think?”
“I... uh... he really doesn’t talk about work much. I mean, I barely even see him. I’m specializing in security and tactics, so I’ve got nothing to do with the engineering stuff. And when I do see him, he really doesn’t talk about work.” He laughed, and it was an uncomfortable sound. “Besides, if I spoke to him at home about work, next thing I know, he’s the Admiral and I’m the Cadet, and that just gets weird.”
There was laughing all around, and Jim frowned. Had the Admiral told Romano about the investigation or not? Now, Jim wasn’t so sure. There was no way to know, and Jim wasn’t about to ask.
“Come on, guys,” Romano said, “are we going to review for this test or not?”
“Okay, okay.”
The chatter turned to landing party security, and Jim knew he’d heard enough. Tucking his PADD back in his bag, he slid off the seat and ducked away. The last thing he wanted was to be noticed by the group here.
*********
By the time Jim made it back to his dorm, he was tired of dealing with sentient life in all its variations, and really wanted nothing more than crawl into bed and pretend the world didn’t exist for a few hours. He’d known that facing the consequences of his debacle the previous night would be rough, but he hadn’t expected it to be quite so bad.
Despite the boost of assurance he’d felt after overhearing the conversation from Romano’s study group, the confidence was quickly spent. The wary looks from his fellow cadets hadn’t stopped all day. He’d overheard more than a few harsh comments. And then, to make matters worse, he’d received a communiqué from Pike at the end of his last class, apologizing, but ordering him to meet with a counselor that afternoon. Apparently, some higher brass in security and engineering had demanded it. They couldn’t let some crazy, civilian-attacking cadet wander loose around campus without having been fully analyzed by the shrink of their choice. Pike’s message promised that once he saw the psychiatrist Bones had recommended, he’d be able to ditch the counselor, but it didn’t stop him from sitting through an hour of pseudo-sympathy, which had only succeeded in making him more frustrated.
As he’d talked, he realized that even with the most rational thoughts he could muster, he couldn’t dismiss the ongoing, burning anger that there was still someone out there, wandering free, who had caused the whole thing. That whatever the investigation had found, or hadn’t found, he didn’t know.
And given the current circumstances, chances were that he’d never know. Documents had been buried more deeply than even he could hack. The physical evidence had either been vaporized or locked away in rooms he’d never have clearance to enter. All he had left were his gnawing suspicions that he had to ignore and forget if he ever wanted to get his head back to normal.
Still, he couldn’t talk about his suspicions without the lady hmmm’ing and aaaaah’ing with infuriating calmness. So fucking obnoxious. It felt condescending. Why the hell people thought counseling was such a wonderful thing was beyond him.
So, by the end of the day, he was sick of talking, sick of listening, and sick to death of needing to explain himself. At least his roommate, if he was there, was usually pretty good about keeping to himself as long as Jim left him alone to his gadgets and study notes. This could be a quiet night in his own room, and maybe he could talk to Bones tomorrow, and they could go into the city if Bones didn’t have clinic duty.
He needed to get away for a while. Re-set his thoughts. Take a deep breath. This sucked, but he could get through it.
The turbolift dropped Jim at his floor, and he made his way down the hall. As he got to his door, he was just about to punch in his access code when he heard voices from inside the room. Jim frowned. Sven hadn’t brought anyone to the dorm room since they’d become roommates at the beginning of the year.
Feeling a bit odd spying on his own dorm room, Jim pressed his ear to the door.
“... and if you think I’m going to give up now, just when they’ve opened the field for submissions again, you’re delusional.” That was Sven.
“Listen, I’m not saying you should give up, I’m... well, maybe I am. But Hagenbuch, it’s too risky. I helped you before because I didn’t think it was risky. Or dangerous.” And that was...
That’s Romano. What the fuck is going on here?
“You helped me before because you wanted some of the credit if it worked.”
“Well, that too, but -”
“And I would have to thank you - you distracted the girl who remained behind while the rest of the squad went to breakfast. I hadn’t anticipated them leaving a guard.”
“I shouldn’t have done -”
“You did.”
“Okay, so yeah. But I’m telling you now, if you try this again, I’ll report you. Right to the top, not to my father.”
Sven laughed, and Jim hadn’t known the guy could sound that... nasty. “And if you do that, you’re going down, too.”
“You think I don’t know that? That’s why I’m saying you need to stop this now. It’s not worth it. For fuck’s sake, Sven - a cadet died. Doesn’t that mean more to you than your fucking engine design?”
Jim blinked. Felt his mouth fall open. No. This isn’t right. It’s impossible. It’s paranoia. This isn’t -
“If Kirk hadn’t altered the engine schematic during his flight, the test device would have been harmless. It would have continued tracking engine output and rerouting power, only. But the power reroute clashed with his modifications.”
NO.
“Why’d you have to use his shuttle, Sven? God, Kirk’s the one guy on campus who wouldn’t let an efficiency drop go unnoticed. Of all the people, why him?”
“Because I have his passcode. He’s very predictable, and not so careful around me. When I showed him a few engineering tricks, I saw him use it. So I had access to his shuttle.”
“Are you really that heartless?”
“I’m a scientist. I care for results.” There was a loud thud. “If you hadn’t caught me in the hangar the first time, you would have nothing to do with this, just as if Kirk had not touched the engine, he would not have crashed. This is not your design. If you want out of this, leave now. But my research is too important. And now that there’s a chance to have my design accepted for the competition, I need to try it again.”
Jim felt a deep fury slowly building in his chest as his shoulders tightened and fists clenched. This wasn’t paranoia. This was real. It was right in front of him, and there was no way to mistake what he was hearing.
“Then do it the right way! Talk to the Engineering research admins. I’ll pull strings with my father. Just don’t -” Romano was pleading now.
“My proposal was rejected twice,” Sven said flatly, “without the Engineering professors even testing the computer models. I approached one of the engineering teams in the competition with my design, and they also rejected me. It’s because I’m only a Cadet Third Class. But my design is flawless. It’s going to work. And I’m going to do it. So either get out of my way, or we both take the fall. And I doubt you’re willing to sacrifice your career either.”
And Jim had heard quite enough. He punched his passcode into the door panel, and as soon as it slid opened, be burst into the room.
Romano and Sven were almost nose-to-nose, but turned in shock as Jim stormed in. “I’ve heard enough.”
“Kirk! I... you were... you heard...” Romano stammered, eyes wide with fear.
“Shut up! You knew all along. The whole fucking time, Romano!” He stepped up to Sven, glaring. Heat and red crept up in his vision as his world zoomed in on the pale, peaky face of his roommate. “And you. You... you fucking bastard! It was you! You -”
For a second, Jim’s gaze slipped past Sven’s shoulder to the desk, covered in its usual mess of electronic bits and equipment, but this time, there was also something disturbingly familiar. It was a small box-shaped device. A few wires and conduits protruded from various ports on the box. Generally, it was quite nondescript, but familiar... so familiar. And then it all clicked together, memory coming back to him in a dizzying rush.
He’d seen that box before. Just once. In the shuttlecraft engine. Moments before he’d crashed.
Growling, he shoved Sven out of the way and grabbed the device off the desk. “This was it, wasn’t it? A goddamned fucking test device! This caused the mess in the engine!” With a howl of rage, he hurled the box across the room, narrowly missing Sven’s head. It slammed into the bookshelf, sending a row of books, holo frames, and other items crashing violently to the ground.
“Kirk, calm down. Let’s -”
“DON’T! Don’t fucking talk to me, Romano!” he snarled as he stormed at Sven, grabbing the guy by the shoulders and pushing him back against the wall, slamming him hard with a satisfying thud. “You should have reported this. You should have fucking told me, you asshole! Tell me why I shouldn’t break your fucking neck, you goddamned bastard!”
Confronted by the sudden physicality, Sven only gaped at him wordlessly, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Jim shook him, slamming him against the wall again. “Well!? Give me one goddamned reason why I shouldn’t! You wanted to practice your engineering bullshit on my shuttlecraft. Tell me why I shouldn’t practice my hand-to-hand on you! Tell me!”
Romano held up a hand. “Kirk, don’t... it’s not - ”
“Shut up!” Jim hauled his arm back, cocking his elbow and clenching his hand into a fist. Sven squeezed his eyes shut, like the pathetic coward he was, and that was all it took. With a roar of fury, Jim drove his fist right past Sven’s face, missing his nose by inches, and smashed his hand clear through the wall.
The room went dead silent. Slowly, Jim pulled his fist out of the hole he’d just made in the duraplast wallboard, noting with a sick satisfaction that the edges of the hole had blood on them. Sven’s eyes popped open when he realized that Jim wasn’t about to hit him, and he stared with terrified eyes, clearly not sure if he should stay very still or run for his life.
Jim took a step back, but lowered his head, glaring darkly. “Get out,” he growled. “Both of you. Get out.”
Romano took a hesitant step towards him. “Kirk, maybe -”
“I said get the fuck out of here!”
Sven blinked once, and then moved faster than Jim had ever seen him move before. He grabbed his boots without putting them on and rushed out the door. Romano stopped in the doorway. For a moment, looked like he was going to say something, but Jim took a step towards him, and he went slightly pale and hurried out the door.
The door slid shut, and Jim was alone in the room. He felt like something had been ripped from him.
There had been no malicious sabotage.
It hadn’t been Terra Prime.
It wasn’t attempted murder.
It had been his fucking roommate, doing a goddamned experiment.
And if he’d left it alone... hadn’t tried to fix the unexplained drop in efficiency... like Tambe had told him... Tambe would still be alive.
It was all so... pointless.
He felt so numb that it almost came as a surprise that his hand started to ache. Jim lifted up his right hand and stared at it in detached amusement at the blood oozing down from his smashed knuckles. A couple of bones were obviously broken.
Bones. A twisted laugh worked its way through his throat. Bones. What would Bones say?
With another laugh like a sob, Jim pulled his communicator off his belt with his left hand and flipped it open.
“Kirk to McCoy.”
A few seconds passed. “McCoy here. Jim, what’s going on?”
“Bones... I need you to come to my dorm room.”
“Jim? Are you okay? You don’t sound right, kid.”
Another laugh slipped past the choke in his throat. This one sounded even more like a sob. “No, Bones. It’s not right. It’s really, really not alright.”
“Jim... I... just stay there. I’m coming, okay? Just stay there.” He sounded worried.
“I’m not going anywhere, Bones.” He flipped the comm unit shut and numbly placed it back on his belt as he took a few steps through the room. He wanted to smash something, but at the same time, it was so numb and distant, he just couldn’t dredge up the energy to do it. He was tired, so tired.
Another laugh - no, this time, it was really nothing but a sob - broke the silence in the room. And then another. He walked to the far wall and pressed his back against it as he slid to the floor, laughing and sobbing all at once at the cruelty of a universe that never gave a shit and never would.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
*********
Time turned into a stuffy fog around Jim; thick and unmoving, holding him in place. Even if he hadn’t promised Bones he wouldn’t move, he couldn’t have done so anyway. His limbs felt heavy and dead, and even his skin didn’t feel like his own. The air in the room was cold and stinging, but it was too much effort to tell the computer to raise the temperature.
The chime of the door broke through the thickness, and time almost moved again. Bones was outside in the hallway, pounding at the door now. The thought that he should answer the door briefly crossed Jim’s mind, but his mouth just didn’t want to form words. And somehow, he didn’t think his legs would hold him if he tried to get up. It didn’t matter- Bones had his access code. It didn’t matter. Everything was numb, and it didn’t fucking matter.
So pointless. So wrong. Didn’t fucking matter.
And then Bones was there in front of him, saying something. There was a familiar whirring sound, and a warm hand was slapping his cheek. He blinked a few times, feeling slow and sluggish.
“Jim, goddammit, answer me!”
“I’m... here, Bones.” His voice sounded so rusting and dry, hardly like his own voice.
A heavy sigh of relief from Bones. “Thank God... Jim, what the hell did you do to your hand? You...” The familiar sound was a tricorder near his head, Jim finally realized. “Kid, you’re in shock. Talk to me. What happened?”
“I punched the wall. Better than... than punching... punching Sven. It was... it was Sven.” Something tight spasmed in his chest, like a bitter laugh or a sob, he wasn’t sure which. “And Romano knew... he knew... but it was Sven...”
A hypospray hissed against his neck, and Bones was checking his pulse manually and shaking his head with a frown. It was all so distant. “Your roommate? What about him?”
“He did it, Bones. Engineering experiment. The shuttle crash. Sven did it.”
Bones' head shot up, eyes wide. He stared for a few seconds, and the intensity and shock in that gaze was the only thing that pierced the haze around Jim’s brain. Then Bones blinked a couple of times and quickly stowed his tricorder. “We need to get you to the infirmary. Fix that hand of yours.”
“And report Sven,” Jim said, still feeling detached from his own voice.
“Yes, Jim... and report Sven.”
The world spun dizzily around him as Bones helped him to his feet, supporting him as he stumbled. The parka Bones wrapped around him felt heavy and suffocating. He didn’t understand why he was so shaky. It was cold inside, but even colder outside, and he couldn’t stop shivering. He only distantly recognized the fact that Bones was dressing him, helping him walk, leading him. Didn’t matter... it was all too far away. None of it fucking mattered.
There was a transport vehicle arriving in front of his dorm as they reached the walkway - Bones must have called it - and someone was pulling a stretcher out of the back.
“Come on, Jim. Lie down.”
He was too dazed to protest.
The trip to the infirmary was a blur. Bones kept asking him questions... about Sven, about Romano, about what happened. He might have answered. He was pretty sure he did, but it all crumpled together.
The lights of the infirmary waiting room were glaring and bright after the dull gray of late evening and the dim interior of the vehicle. He kept talking as Bones brought him to a room. He was deposited on a biobed, and there was motion around him. Voices. Someone doing something to his hand. Another hypospray, and darkness finally crept up around him.
*********
The sensation of a slow wake-up reached Jim through layers of fog and darkness. There was a hand on his shoulder and a familiar voice nearby.
“Bones...?” He blinked a few times, and the familiar face to match the voice swam into focus.
“Yeah, kid. I’m here.”
Jim groaned and reached up a hand to scrub at his face, only to be met by the fact that his hand was encased in a duraplast splint. Grumbling as he began to remember flashes of the events that had brought him here, he reached up with his other hand and rubbed his eyes. “How long have I been out?”
“Seven hours, Jim.”
That caught Jim’s attention. “Seven hours?” He scrambled awkwardly to sit up, and Bones helped him. “You kept me sedated for seven hours?”
“I didn’t sedate you, Jim,” Bones said tiredly, and Jim finally noticed the deep circles under his eyes. “You passed out. As soon as I gave you pain meds for your hand, you were out cold.”
Jim frowned. “My hand... it... it didn’t hurt.”
Bones merely snorted. “I’m not surprised. You were in a pretty nasty state of shock, and I’m going to guess that it had absolutely nothing to do with your hand. I’m surprised you were speaking as coherently as you did.” His expression became serious. “You said a lot.”
“I said...” Jim felt his eyes go wide. “Sven... and Romano. Shit... Bones, did I tell you? It was Sven. I... I got back to the room, and I heard -”
“Whoa, Jim. Slow down.” He rested a warm hand on Jim’s shoulder. “Yes, you told me. And yes, you were out of it, but I know you, Jim. And I knew this was real, not paranoia. So I contacted Captain Pike.”
Jim blinked a few times. “You contacted Pike?” he echoed vaguely.
Bones nodded. “I did. And a lot has happened in seven hours.”
“But it’s...” Jim glanced up at the chrono on the wall. “It’s 0200 hours. On a Friday night... Saturday morning.. Nothing happens on a Friday night.”
“It did this time, kid. A whole lot happened. But you’ll find out more later, once the dust settles.” The hand resting on Jim’s shoulder squeezed a bit tighter. “Pike's on top of things, though. They’re still working on it, but I think he's got a good handle on stuff. He said he wants to speak to you in the morning.”
A cold knot settled in Jim’s gut. “He wants... oh fuck. Am I in trouble again?"
Bones shook his head gently. “No, Jim. You’re not in trouble. Not at all.” He withdrew his hand. “But you are exhausted and recovering from a pretty rough evening.”
“Then I… guess I should go back to my dorm room.”
“Actually, you’re coming back to my dorm.”
Jim frowned. “I only broke my hand. I’m fine.”
Bones pressed his lips into a grim line. “Even if you were, your room is being treated as a crime scene right now. No access. At least Pike was good enough to ask the security team guarding it to get your PADD and some clean clothes for you.”
All Jim could say was, “Oh.”
Bones chuckled lightly as he reached over to the hook on the wall and grabbed a parka. He stood in front of Jim as he wrapped it around his shoulders. “Come on, kid. Let’s get you home.”
*********
(To Part Eighteen...)