From: neale@mentor.cc.purdue.edu (Neale Davidson)
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
Subject: STMOW 10/20
Date: 31 Jul 92 01:18:58 GMT
Organization: Purdue University Computing Center


 
  - STAR TREK     ----------------------------------------------------
  - MORALS OF WAR ----------------------------------------------------
 
  Part Ten of Twenty
  (Not Including the Prelude)
 
  --------------------------------------------------------------------
 
  CHAPTER TEN
 
        Riley's trap had been set, all that was needed were the 
  prey. "Monroe and Ravis, Commander?" Saavik asked for need of 
  confirmation.
        Riley nodded in the affirmative. "Both of them made 
  subtle mistakes during their interviews," he explained. "I 
  believe I did a fair job of shaking them up a bit."
        Saavik breathed heavily out of painful expectations. "Is 
  it enough to prosecute them, Commander?" she queried, already 
  knowing the answer.
        "No," Riley replied honestly. "But it will provide 
  incentive for them to rush their mission," he continued for 
  explanation. "I gave them their bait, now all we need to do is 
  catch them in the act."
 
        Monroe entered the engineering section, phaser in hand.
  "No one try to be a hero, and you all might live," he called as
  Barett observed his entrance.
        Grissom stood back in shock, but still hoping to sound a
  security alert. It was obvious enough that Monroe was
  desperate. Riley must have given him a rough time in his
  interview, she thought to herself. "What do you want?" she
  managed.
        "This ship," Monroe stated matter-of-factly. Grissom's 
  eyes went wide as the phaser was leveled at her. Monroe 
  strutted to the main navigational control center. "If anyone 
  moves, you will die," he cooly warned.
        "Why are you doing this?" Barett muttered. "What are you 
  getting for this?" Barrett had succeeded in attracting Monroe's 
  attention. Grissom, seizing the opportunity, inched closer to 
  her command panel. The alert button was so very near.
        Monroe turned again, noting Grissom's movement from his 
  periphreal vision. "I said, don't play the hero." Monroe fired 
  his phaser above her head to illustrate his point.
        Grissom ducked and backed away a step from where the 
  blast had impacted the wall above her. But Barett was 
  undaunted, building up his courage. Monroe had his back to him 
  now, and Barett seized his chance.
        Barett charged, out of fear and desperation, hoping to 
  make the most of Monroe's distraction. But Monroe was too 
  quick, turning and firing even as Barett was about to pounce on 
  him. Barett's young form disintegrated from the phaser's 
  highest setting.
        Grissom stood perfectly upright. There hadn't been enough 
  time to reach the panel, let alone set off the alarms. "I 
  warned him," Monroe whispered angrily. "A nice attempt, 
  Lieutenant," the saboteur commented. "But a most feeble 
  execution."
        Monroe slowly paced closer to Grissom, who had begun 
  reaching panic. Gahrut started to inch ahead, wanting to help 
  her, but the leveled phaser in Monroe's hand convinced him to 
  stay behind.
        When reaching her, Monroe lifted Grissom by her neck, 
  causing the woman to pass out as the air left her body. "Sorry, 
  Lieutenant," he began coldly, "but I have work to do." He 
  dropped the woman's limp form to the floor.
        Gahrut cried in anger, rushing at Monroe for the attack.
  Somehow, almost magically, Gahrut's rock form launched itself
  into the air. Monroe swung at it instinctively, not realizing
  how stupid it was to get into a brawl with a Horta.
        Gahrut's acid poured down Monroe's attacking arm, and the
  spy let out a painful scream which every deck could hear.
  Gahrut was thrown into the wall, accidentally burning into it
  with his acids.
        Monroe turned and fired at his Horta attacker. A beam of
  red hot energy slammed itself into Gahrut's hide. It didn't
  kill him, but the young Horta was no longer in any shape to
  continue his attack.
        Monroe ingnored the Horta for now, instead opting to rip
  out the panel to the navigation system. There was no regret in
  his face, only the stern determination of duty.
 
        Ravis peered to both sides of him, looking for any signs
  that he may be caught. Riley had set him on edge, and Ravis was
  beginning to wonder if his Commander knew more than he let on.
        But the mission came first, and Riley had said that the
  computers were becoming on-line once more. That was something
  that Ravis simply could not allow.
        "Rav?" Deuce called as he noticed his companion slipping
  quietly into the main computer room. Neither of them had access
  to that particular area, and Rav shouldn't have been able to
  get past the keycode sequence.
        Deuce cautiously walked to the doorway and eyed the
  keycode entry panel. It had been tampered with. "What the
  hell?" he pondered, wondering why Ravis would do such a thing.
        Ravis simply didn't have any business going in there.
  Deuce looked confused for a moment, then slowly marched into
  the room. "Ravis, are you in here?" he called innocently.
        "What are you doing here?" Ravis called back, a bit of
  distress in his voice. "You don't have authorization to be in
  here."
        Deuce turned up the lighting a bit, but Ravis was hidden
  amougst the many computer core fragments stacked in the room.
  "You're getting me nervous, Rav," Deuce tried again, a bit more
  cautiously. There was definately something wrong here.
        "You better go, Deuce," Ravis started again, still
  remaining hidden. "I don't want you to get in trouble." Ravis's
  voice was shaking, failing to reassure Deuce.
        "Same here," Deuce replied under his breath, turning
  another corner. "Rav?" he called as soon as Ravis came into
  view. "Rav, what the hell are you doing?"
        Ravis was standing near a stack of scorched computer
  core fragments, hot phaser in his hand. "I told you not to come
  here," he angrily spoke. "I didn't want to get you involved."
        "Involved in what?" Deuce quieried, not wanting to accept
  the obvious. Ravis let the phaser sink in his hand. "Not you,"
  he finally said with shock as the reality of the situation sat
  into him.
        "I'm sorry, Deuce," Ravis muttered in shame. He had
  finally been caught, and by the one person he had hoped
  wouldn't.
        "You lied to me, Ravis," Deuce muttered, keeping the
  tears back. "You're responsible for everything. You tried to
  kill me."
        Ravis seemed to go limp at that last assertation. "No,
  Deuce, I wouldn't do that." Ravis looked around desperately,
  genuinely regretting his actions of late. "I love you," he
  pleaded, hoping Deuce would come to his senses.
        Deuce didn't seem to believe that. "How many other people
  have you slept with to get your way?" he demanded with disgust.
  "Aren't spies supposed to use everything at their disposal?
  Including people?"
        Ravis knew that things had come to a head, and his time
  was running short. "Deuce, is it so hard to believe that I
  really did have some feelings for you?"
        Deuce let his phaser drop from target. "You bastard," he
  sadly muttered, unable to continue his duty. "You've used me
  all along, haven't you?" Ravis realized that his former partner
  was no longer listening to him. "It was a game to you, part of
  the business," Deuce rambled on, now not even paying attention
  to Ravis.
        Ravis slowly drew his own phaser. Business must come
  first. Even Commander Riley had said that. "I'm sorry, Deuce,"
  Ravis sadly spoke, though Deuce ceased listening. "But the
  Empire has to come first. Riley was right, you would become my
  failing."
        Ravis raised the phaser, aiming directly for Deuce's
  chest. "Ravis, wait," Deuce tried. Ravis didn't listen, instead
  taking careful aim, hesitating only slightly to pull the
  trigger.
        But then a phaser beam came from nowhere, burning into
  Ravis's chest. Deuce screamed in terror as his former lover
  fell. "Ravis," he called, but there would be no reply.
        Deuce looked around desperately, worrying about what the
  killer's intention was. Perhaps the killer was another Romulan
  spy who couldn't afford Ravis's capture.
        But it was Riley who emerged from behind the computer
  banks, phaser rifle in hand. "Security to computer room three,"
  he called to his insignia. His eyes gave away the pain he felt
  at that moment. He had killed one person, and sent another into
  shock. It was another weight placed on his already overburdened
  shoulders "I'm sorry," he apologized, "but I had to do it."
        "Did you, sir?" Deuce dared, his mind barely clinging to
  its sanity. "Did you?"
        Riley studied over the body again, noting that the phaser
  was indeed well within the kill range. "He would have killed
  you, Deuce," he quietly commented. "He didn't want to, but he
  still would have." That was the nature of the business.
        Deuce fell to his knees besides his former lover. Riley
  left well enough alone and quietly left the room. Security
  would arrive in only another second to deal with forenzics and
  to remove the body.
        Riley didn't feel any better about his work, even though
  that one-half of the saboteur pairing had been dealt with.
        There was still Monroe.
 
        The phaser fire from within engineering did not go 
  undetected. Saavik and a security team raced to the corridoor 
  leading to the room. "Why didn't the alarms sound when the 
  phaser was fired?" Saavik demanded.
        "The systemry had been tampered with," the security 
  officer offered for explanation. "It was Commander Riley's 
  suggestion that we use the sensor array instead."
        Saavik was taken a bit by suprise at that. Her First 
  Officer continously seemed to be a single step in front of her. 
  "Very well then, try to get inside the door," she commanded, 
  realizing that the cutting torches would give Monroe all the 
  time he needed to do his damage.
        Of course, Saavik had other ways of reaching Monroe than 
  the physical. "Your mind, to my mind," she quiety commanded, 
  looking through the wall, directly at Monroe. "Your thoughts, 
  to my thoughts."
        On the otherside, Monroe could feel his mind being 
  touched. "No, Captain," he muttered, "I can't let you do that." 
  But Saavik was quite powerful, more so than his Romulan 
  teachers. She would not be easy to defeat.
        "We are thinking as one," Saavik continued in front of 
  her stunned security force. It hadn't occured to her that none 
  of them might have even seen a mind-meld. "We are feeling as 
  one." Her crew snapped themselves from gaping at her, and 
  returned to work. "Our minds are merging," she continued, 
  relatively free of distraction.
        Monroe staggered for a moment, the weight on his mind 
  increasing from Saavik's assault. "You can't do this to me," he 
  cried, desperately trying to control his own thoughts.
        "I can feel your pain," Saavik continued, pressing her 
  attack. Monroe's mental sheilds were formidable, and he pressed 
  to resist her domination.
        But Saavik was not after domination. Monroe had 
  threatened her in more ways than just her life. Monroe had 
  succeeded in shattering her dreams, and in razing her command. 
  Worse, she was feeling emotions more strongly than she had ever 
  before. Because of this traitor called 'Monroe', Saavik's life 
  was over as she knew it. She wanted more than mere domination, 
  she wanted him dead.
        It was a pity for Monroe that he did not recognize the 
  attack Saavik had opted to use. It was an illegal act for a 
  Vulcan, one that had been forbidden for years. Monroe's mind 
  ruptured as every measure of pain Saavik had ever experienced
  came into him in one brief mental bolt. Wounds, emotional 
  stress, torture, and even death experience poured and 
  overwhelmed his senses.
        Monroe completely lost his facilities, his mind incapable 
  of handling the massive influx of pain. Saavik had turned him 
  into a Romulan, as it would turn out, vegetable. If she felt 
  any guilt, she easily concealed it.
 


Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative