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Immune - Chapter 9

Author - Trinneergirl
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Immune

by Trinneergirl

Disclaimers in Chapter 1


Chapter Nine

*Acting Captain's Log. Commander Charles Tucker III. 25th November 2154.

I have been fixing systems for most of the day. The niggly little things that get done daily by a staff of twenty become a mountain of tasks for one person. But so far, thankfully, I seem to be on top of it. The scrubbers are up to 100% efficiency and so far the other systems are doing okay. The traveling at high warp is producing stresses in the engine and most of my day has been spent making sure the anti-matter flow is stable.

The answer to the question of who sabotaged Enterprise is now, regrettably all too clear. Crewman Kurt Wilkinson, an exobiologist, took a sample of the soil from Dryalia which contained the strain of Dryalian meningitis and quite deliberately infected the Enterprise crew. I have found out that he then broke another soil sample container in the biolab. My only idea is that he thought that when the Captain and Sub-Commander T'Pol returned from their away mission they would find that the crew was sick and the reason was that I couldn't design a filter for the biolabs that worked. The man seems to have a frightening hatred for me and I don't know why. I guess I was to be made to look a fool, for everyone to see I was unworthy of command.

Why Captain Archer and T'Pol both fell first from the disease when they were exposed to it for the least length of time I have no idea. Maybe there was some mutation of the virus. But when the crew fell and the one person who was supposed to get sick and get blamed was immune and going to have to do his best to take command and save the ship.....

I can't work out if he destroyed the scrubbers to kill me, cover his own ass, or both. He seems to be completely crazy. What I could have done to earn such loathing I really have no idea. I can only pray he's done his worst.

End Log*

Trip entered the cold cargo bay and moved around in the darkness. He checked each stasis module and shone his torch on the faces, making sure the colour was right. Suddenly he stopped as an all too familiar visage was revealed by the beam of his flashlight. Crewman Kurt Wilkinson. Seeing the guy in the flesh, Trip tried to determine what kind of man he was. He had a sulky look, petulant like a spoilt child. He hadn't been racked with guilt when he went to sleep, that was for sure. This man had sabotaged the scrubbers so that the Commander would slowly run out of air and die. What did he think would happen then? Was he hoping Enterprise would get through the Vort Cloud without anyone to guide it? That someone would board the ship at high warp and rouse the crew? Trip shook his head in perplexity. Or did the guy just figure that killing everyone, including himself, was a price worth paying in order to bring about the death of Commander Tucker?

Trip leaned over the module and wiped away the frozen residue to see the crewman more clearly.

"Why the hell do you want me dead?" he asked the still figure. "You were that close to killing all of us, just cause you wanted me to look a jackass?" Trip studied the sleeping face. "You're obsessed with me. You've filled your whole mind with that loathing and you've gone so far over the edge, wanting to see me humiliated, that you've lost all sense of right or wrong. If I was anything like as poor a specimen as you, I'd turn off your life supports right now." Trip took a breath of the frigid air, trying to calm his temper. A fastidious duty would prevent him from ever doing anything so wrong, but he was tempted. The tall Commander moved on, checking the stasis pods.

Having dealt with his rounds, Trip made a detailed survey of everywhere Wilkinson had been prior to his falling victim to his own illness. As far as he could ascertain, the crewman hadn't made any further attempts to sabotage the ship. What Trip found, however, drove the blood from his cheeks. Kurt was a limited man, but no one got on Enterprise without having some multi-skilling. When Trip went back into the man's computer in his quarters he found a series of files in the memory. Opening these, Trip found extensive research into his life. A private detective had even been hired on Earth to dig up dirt on Commander Trip Tucker, with little success. There were files on his birthplace, his schooling, his time with the Oceanographic Institute, his work on the bio-sphere, his Starfleet career and training, and every mission on Enterprise, what he did and how he did it. Every relationship he'd ever had was here. Kurt had broken into the official records and Trip's own log to glean every detail.

The young Commander felt his skin crawl. This was too weird! This was more than hatred, this was obsession. A really sick obsession. It was like Wilkinson was trying to own his life. Breaking into anybody's personal records was a very serious offence, but to hack into someone's private log was unheard of. Trip put down all his most personal thoughts in there and this guy had paddled his dirty fingers through them all. The Commander felt violated, nauseous. What the hell was driving this guy? What could have happened to fixate such a morbid fascination and cold loathing upon someone he barely knew? The worried cerulean eyes ran down the file listings, stopping at a huge data congregation. He opened it, finding that if tapping his personal logs wasn't bad enough, Kurt had wired into the ship’s cameras. There were hours of footage of Trip on the Bridge, in Engineering, in the Mess, and at the Captain's table. When Trip came across the camera in his bedroom, he paled to whiteness. Kurt had added a camera in his bedroom. Very little searching through the file, picking up on Wilkinson's own highlights showed Tucker naked from the shower, dressing and undressing, and even the occasional masturbation Trip allowed himself had been recorded.

That something so private, so personal, had been laid bare for Kurt Wilkinson to view made Trip shake with anger. He'd never imagined such a low-down, filthy thing for anyone to do. To spy on a man in his private quarters. Why? Why would anyone do something so disgusting?

Trip felt raped. He saw Kurt was preparing some of the footage to send. When, a little digging later, Trip realised that edited footage that showed him to be an ineffectual officer, a womaniser and a self-abusing pervert was going to be sent to the Media services on Earth and to Starfleet, he couldn't take any more. Moving swiftly into the tiny adjacent shower-room he vomited into the toilet until he was retching dry leaves. Coming back, shaky and cold sweating, he sat and realised, with profound relief that the skewed character assassination hadn't yet been sent through sub-space. Probably, Kurt had been waiting for the footage of the illness to finish the report.

Trip sank into himself as he tried to consider the effect that report would have had on his life, his career. For a certainty he would have been virtually destroyed by it. Lost his rank, been dishonourably discharged, his return in utter disgrace to Earth, to run the gamut of sensationalist media stories and inquiries would have afforded Wilkinson with all the scenes of humiliation he could ever have dreamed of. Just trying to imagine standing before the council and through the TV links, the whole population of Earth and having to explain the jerking-off made the pale face of the Commander flush deeply in shame. He'd never go into space again. Probably never work again. Trip's mind was numb with incomprehension. Wilkinson was systematically trying to destroy his whole life. And rack his brains though he might, for the life of him, Trip could not think of a single reason to explain why! At the base of the data were several sub-files. Making sure to download everything onto a PADD and save it securely in case he triggered a tapeworm that would wipe the evidence, Trip opened the files and stopped breathing.

After a few seconds, he began respiration again with a gasp. Footage had been taken up to now. Trip saw the live monitor on him and looked around, eventually locating the tiny camera. Had Kurt factored in the idea that he would stumble across this cache of hatred? Placed a camera so that he could witness the humiliation he so needed to see Trip go through? The Chief Engineer rubbed his hands across his face and sighed. There was another huge sub-file in there and he might as well check it through. He keyed the system and nearly jumped out of his skin as the comm chimed.

"Archer to Commander Tucker." Voice pattern analysis charts spiked on the monitor. Trip stood, moving to the comm panel and responded.

"Tucker here."

"Trip, we have an emergency, I need you on the Bridge."

"What kind of emergency?" Trip asked. He watched the computer analyse his words and formulate a response.
"On the double, Commander," Archer ordered, severely.

Oh, this was clever, Trip acknowledged that openly. With the sabotage of the scrubbers and the slow increase of carbon dioxide making him light-headed, this had been timed to kick in and drive him over the edge. Providing everyone with the video of a weak, scared coward to go with his other selectively edited and doctored images in the files.

"Commander?" Archer spoke again.

"On my way, Captain," he replied and ended the transmission, sick inside and tired of the charade. The routines went into a cycle of detecting Trip's biosigns. Depending where he was, the next comm would be accompanied by sounds. If he was near the cargo bays he'd hear a recording of the warp engine coming off-line and the air lock engaging. Trip sat again his eyes tearing at the memory of the terror those sounds had caused him.

"You bastard," he whispered at the screen. "Damn you to hell, you twisted bastard!"

Trip, if he had found this evidence with all his colleagues, would have been deeply affected. All alone it was a dreadful thing to face. He had no idea what else Kurt might have done. As an exobiologist he would have access to any number of pathogens. Anything Trip breathed, or touched, or ate, might be infected. The young Commander wondered if the timing had simply been right, or whether his promotion had triggered the hatred into attempted homicide. He didn't know. After sitting and thinking it through, he realised all he could do was let it go. There was too much to do just keeping Enterprise going, without spending every minute trying to make sense of the insane. He saved everything to the PADD and closed down the computer after taking the subsystems off-line so they wouldn't interact with any of the other systems of the ship. Standing, feeling as if the weight of his homeworld was on his shoulders, he left the quarters to get on with his work.

For hours he worked in Engineering, steadying the systems in the huge, silent room. After a late lunch of resequenced meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and spinach, he made his way through the ship to Hydroponics. He worked through each of the systems, making sure the food production was at optimum. Once he was done he started back to the Bridge, then stopped dead. Wilkinson would also have had access to the computer in the bio-labs. Turning the corner Trip stared through the glass walls of the laboratory. Any trick Kurt had up his sleeve would probably be in here. After a long moment's thought, Trip went back to where the EVA suits were kept. Fully suited up, the Commander returned to the bio-labs. He keyed open the double sets of doors in the sterile area and entered. Everything was shut down in here; it was dark and quiet. Turning on the helmet lights, Trip crossed to the main computer and switched it on.

Disconnecting the computer from any other system, he passed through the layers of security with his codes, codes that he knew now Kurt also had, and came across the second part of the plan. There were several programmes in place that would wipe the records and replace them with CGI forgeries. Trip felt his gorge rising as he watched footage of himself drunk in the Captain's Mess, jerking off in the Captain's chair on the Bridge and generally lazing about. If anyone thought to check this thoroughly they would see the shadow inconsistencies and know it was faked, but to any casual observer, this was damning evidence. Kurt, not being in the command chain, hadn't known about the buoy, which would have sent the truth, being on a separate system, but Trip was appalled at the time and effort that had been spent here, just to degrade him further. Trip downloaded the data onto a second PADD in grim anger.

A few seconds later a plume of steam shot down from the ceiling. Trip jumped up and back, staring in shock. He scanned the steam to find it contained a nerve gas that would have incapacitated him instantly without the suit. But why? What would....? The computer began to whine, the sound increasing in pitch and intensity. Trip turned and ran for the door. He just got the outer one sealed when the computer exploded, shooting a shower of deadly fragments across the room. If he'd been knocked unconscious in front of that computer, it would have ripped him to shreds. Breathing heavily in the helmet, Trip engaged the protocols between the two sets of doors and stood while he was decontaminated. He left the suit in its place and made his way to the empty Bridge. Attaching the medical computer to his console, Trip did some research before starting a supplemental log. He outlined Kurt's plans and his discoveries. It seemed even stranger having to recount it.

*...The medical log states the nerve gas used in the bio-lab would have left me instantly paralysed, but aware. The idea was that for the last few seconds of my life I would know I was going to be cut to ribbons by the explosion, but would just have to sit there and wait for it to happen, unable to move. If I only knew what I'd done to deserve any of this! I'm really scared here. Really scared.

End Supplimental Log*

Trip made sure everything was in the buoy, checked all the bridge systems and left to check on his colleagues. He shivered in the cargo bay, much more than with the cold, as he shone his torch on Kurt Wilkinson. The man was infected by a disease he himself had released. He was being kept alive by the stasis pod Trip had designed and built, lying on a ship that Trip had helped design and build and which was going only because the Chief Engineer was keeping it going. The irony was not lost on Trip. After a moment the Commander moved on, scanning bio-readouts and faces. When he left for the second cargo bay he was glad to get out of the room Kurt was in. It felt oppressive. He did the second cargo bay, feeling the old, familiar depression as he looked at Archer's face. The friend he'd inexplicably lost. He shook his head sadly and moved on to Sickbay. He checked T'Pol and the others, discovering that they were all stable in the stasis field. He was about to leave when an idea occurred to him.

Dr. Phlox had said that if he'd had a sample of Trip's blood, he would have been able to make a vaccine. He hadn't had time, but had Kurt? He already knew that the exobiologist was one of the last to fall. He scanned the data until he found what he was looking for. Kurt had spent two days with a sample of Trip's blood after they knew he was immune. If he'd made a vaccine then he wasn't really infected. If he wasn't infected and he'd programmed the stasis pod to open early, then Trip was in terrible danger. Feeling like he was trapped in a nightmare, he grabbed his phase pistol, left sickbay and ran back to the cargo bay. When he got there he picked up the torch and entered warily. Treading through the rows of sleeping bodies, phase pistol at the ready, he made his cautious way over to the stasis pod that held the body of Kurt Wilkinson. Trip swallowed in fear and rubbed the plastiglass covering free of frost. He froze in fear, his innards clenching. The pod was empty.

Trip felt a movement, then there was a blinding explosion in his head and he fell to the ground.

"WHY WON'T YOU DIE!!" Trip heard the scream through the shattering splinters of his mind.

Only through will was the Commander able to half open his eyes to see Wilkinson standing over him, holding a rod of deuterium alloy.

"DIE YOU BASTARD! DIE!!" Kurt screamed in insane hatred and raised the rod above his head. With the last of his strength, Trip turned the phaser upward and shot the man in the chest, point-blank. Kurt flew back, landed heavily and lay unconscious. Trip, losing the battle with pain, passed out too. Now there was only the silence in the ship as it sped on through the Vort Cloud.


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