Honor Bound

“I was hoping we’d have a bit of time to discuss what we’re going to recommend to the President when we get back, sir.”

“Of course,” Patel assented with a shrug. “Commander Pirelli, you have the bridge. “Notify the First Officer that I will be in my cabin.”

“Aye, sir,” Pirelli acknowledged as McKay followed Patel to the lifts.

“Okay, sir,” Lt. James said, “this weapon,” he waved, indicating the Fleet-issue sidearm in the clear-plastic locker built into one wall of the Security station, “is definitely one of ours. Came out of the Sheridan‘s armory. But,” he shook his head, “it was never officially signed out. According to the computer records, the pistol’s transponder never left the armory vault.”

“Well how the hell is that possible, Lieutenant?” Vinnie wanted to know. The two of them were alone in the Security station: Vinnie hadn’t wanted an audience for this investigation.

“The transponder was physically removed from the weapon.” James motioned towards the back of the pistol’s handle, where Vinnie could, upon closer inspection, see a small cavity. “I had the armory crew check… it’s still sitting in the vault. It was hidden behind another handgun.”

“There have to be security cameras in the vault,” Vinnie assumed. “That would let us see who removed it.”

“Of course, sir,” James agreed. “If we knew when they did it. No unauthorized personnel have been in the armory and the last full visual inventory was before we left the Solar System. Even if I just restrict it to the time since Mironov came on board, that’s days of footage that we’d have to watch in close to real-time to be sure of what was being done.”

“Tell you what, Lt. James,” Vinnie said, “instead, pull up a list of all the personnel to enter the armory on this trip. Highlight the ones that entered since Mironov came on board.”

“No problem, sir,” James spoke the command into the computer’s audio pickup and the list appeared in the display over the main Security station console.

“All right,” Vinnie went on, “now, I want you to bring up a list of everyone who’s been in Mironov’s cabin since he came on board, and cross-reference it with the ones who’ve been in the armory.”

“But Captain Mahoney,” James said with a frown, “whoever took the gun could have hidden it somewhere and let Mironov come and get it later. Wouldn’t that have been safer?”

“Yes, it would,” Vinnie admitted, “but we’ve gotta’ start somewhere, so let’s just add that to the list. Cause if this doesn’t work, James, you personally are going to be sifting through every second of footage we have of Mironov until we find out where he got that gun.”

“Yes, sir,” James assented glumly. “All right, here’s the list. There aren’t many: just me, Colonel McKay, the Admiral, the First Officer Commander Nunez, and… I think Security Tech Morales. That’s it.”

“Now find me which of those visited the armory since Mironov has been on the ship but prior to visiting his room.”

James relayed the question to the computer and then examined the results. “That would be just me, Colonel McKay and the Admiral.”

“Bring up the video of all three of you when you were in his room after visiting the armory. Can’t be that much of it.”

“I’ll pull up mine first,” James decided. “I was only there for a minute when we gave him the cabin and then again when we put him there before the battle.”

The video played on the holographic display, showing James doing his duty, checking the cabin before Mironov entered and then dropping the man off prior to the battle and sealing the door.

“Guess you’re off the hook, Lieutenant,” Vinnie spared him a small grin. ‘Course, as head of Security, you could have doctored the recordings. But like I told James, ya’ gotta’ start somewhere.

“Now for your Colonel McKay,” James went on. Vinnie thought about telling him not to bother-he would believe that he himself had given Mironov the gun before he’d think the Colonel had done it-but decided that wouldn’t be fair, seeing as how the man had gone ahead and shown footage of himself already.

McKay had spent quite a bit more time with Mironov, obviously, and they had to fast-forward through the footage, making McKay look a bit absurd in the process, Vinnie thought with vague amusement. But as he’d known as certainly as his name, there was no sign of the Colonel passing the Russian a weapon.

James sighed. “Just the Admiral left, which is a huge waste of time. Then I’m going to wind up sitting here for hours watching that loony Russian play with himself.”

Even as James was calling up the video of the Admiral, Vinnie was nodding in agreement with the man. There had to be some way of paring down the footage. The problem was, James was right: Mironov could have picked up the weapon almost anywhere on the ship. All it would have required was whoever had stolen it leaving him some sort of message. They were back to square one.

“I don’t see too much need for discussion, McKay,” Patel admitted as he sat behind his desk, motioning McKay into a chair. “We have to take out the Protectorate fleet and destroy their ability to make war.”

“That’s a maneuver, Admiral,” McKay argued, “not the main goal.”

“And what is the main goal, then?” Patel asked, raising an eyebrow.

McKay spread his hands as if the answer were obvious. “Sir, our goal should be to either capture or destroy the alien technology they found on Novoye Rodina. Without it, their ability to make war on us, as you say, is incredibly limited: not much more potent than the Belt Pirates.”

“Good point,” the Admiral admitted, nodding in acknowledgement. “But how does that affect our strategy, or what we’re going to recommend to the President?”

“A frontal attack will be costly, sir. More costly than we can likely support, given the current economic realities. What we need to do is draw them away and launch a targeted strike on Novoye Rodina. If possible, we secure it, but I doubt it will be that easy. I think the most straightforward plan with the best chance of success is to plant nukes and take out their production facility.”

“That sounds pretty risky,” Patel said, brow furling. “Why not just take it out with missiles?”

“Antonov’s had a long time to set up space defenses,” McKay explained. “I’m thinking he wouldn’t expect a small-scale insertion, particularly if it’s masked by a large space attack.”

Patel smiled knowingly. “And I suppose you’ll be leading that operation personally, eh?”

“Unfinished business, sir,” McKay replied with a shrug.

“Colonel,” Vinnie’s voice sounded in his ear over his ‘link’s earpiece. “I know you’re in Admiral Patel’s office; don’t respond to this call. Act as if you’re still talking to him, sir.”

McKay had never been much of a poker player, but he tried to put on his best poker face nonetheless and act as if he hadn’t heard the transmission. Patel was chuckling lightly, shaking his head.

“McKay, someone needs to have a little professional development talk with you,” he was saying. “You’re a Colonel now… O-6’s don’t generally lead commando raids. Shouldn’t you delegate something like that to Captain Mahoney?”

“There will be plenty for all of us to do, sir, I’m sure,” he replied, trying not to sound distracted.

“Sir,” Vinnie said quickly, “we ran some of the Security video from Mironov’s cabin. Admiral Patel was in there the day before Mironov took over engineering-he was in there alone, no one else. We can’t be one hundred percent certain because the angle’s bad, but we’re pretty sure we just saw the Admiral put the pistol in the cabin, in the clothes locker.”

It took every ounce of will and self-control that Jason McKay had within him to keep his composure at that moment and he knew his face had given something away, so he wasn’t surprised when Patel frowned at him.

“Is something wrong, McKay?” the Admiral asked.

McKay’s mind worked furiously and still he knew it couldn’t work fast enough to reason through this, so he went with his gut, as he had so many times before. “Sorry, sir, I just got a call from Vinnie down in Security. He says there’s something that you and I should see, if you wouldn’t mind. He says it’s important and he’d rather we saw it in person.”