Complete and Edited.

The first three parts were supposed to be a sort-of-prologue and should have been posted in one go but LJ was being weird. From now on the structure will be slightly different

Warnings for language and other VERY BAD THINGS
Story Notes



Part IV - The Omerta Murders

Hikaru found, much to his horror, that he actually liked Starfleet. He liked the classes, got on with his fellow cadets and discovered an aptitude for aeronautics and astrophysics.

He’d kept his head down and kept out of trouble. The worst thing that he’d gotten up to was to put an lampshade on his head and sing, ‘I am the purple pixie fairy,’ after a night of over-indulgence – something that Bob was never going to let him live down.

All in all it had been a good year. Of course he didn’t expect it to last but even he couldn’t have possibly anticipated the events that Starfleet would later call the ‘Omerta murders’

***

Pavel found himself challenged for the first time in his life at Starfleet Academy. He went from sailing through exams without having to crack a book open to having to compete with people twice his age who were fiercely intelligent, ridiculously competitive and had been studying the subject matter for years whereas Pavel had barely heard of the core concepts.

He loved it.

But compared to the life he’d lived in Russia it was all rather boring. His mother had been terrified that he would go berserk and blow the whole academy up. At least the uneventful year would prove he could control himself.

Well, it would prove that he could almost control himself.

***

It was a week before the beginning of Summer Break that Hikaru spoke to the curly-haired kid again.

He’d seen him around, always in a hurry, running awkwardly through the corridors or over the grounds clutching books half his size to his chest or typing frantically into a PADD. He was like the white rabbit all quivering nostrils and wide eyes, perpetually late.

Of course Hikaru hadn’t ever been close enough to see if the boy’s nostrils did quiver but he wouldn’t have been surprised if they did.

It wasn’t like he’d been watching the kid either. He was just hard to miss. Apparently he was some sort of physics genius, which sort of explained why Starfleet had decided to let a twelve year old in.

He known the boy got picked on by a bunch of large thugs who for some reason were called the ‘Muffin Gang’ behind their back. They’d been part of the group who caused the disturbance that had resulted in the Last Night as a Civvie Celebrations being cut short. The other half was a loud, brash, jock-type guy called Shirk or Dirk or something. Hikaru’s orders had been simple: get through all your exams on the first go and don’t be noticed; so he was damned if he was going to get involved with some sort of college feud.

Even if it did look like fun.

Anyway, what did the kid expect? Given his size and the fact that he was a genius made him stick out, and his habit of running into things didn’t help. He was a walking target.

It was a rite of passage everyone had to go through. It was probably character building or something. The kid had done a good job of holding his own and it wasn’t as if it had gone further than some unpleasantness.

It was someone else’s problem. He was not getting involved.

***

Pavel had not expected to be bullied. He never had before. At least not for any length of time.

The trouble was that in Russia, would-be bullies had soon found out that the small ballet-dancer was vicious as hell when provoked and had an incredibly mean left hook.

There had been one nasty incident which ended when his grandfather had paid a little visit to the other boy’s parents and had explained to them how displeased he would be if his grandson returned home with another split lip.

The next day the other boy had not returned to school. Apparently his family had left town.

Then once Pavel was ten and had started ‘helping’ with the family business he’d been allowed to carry a gun around (his grandfather, who was the school’s main benefactor had a word and smoothed things through) and funny enough, no-one wanted to mess with him after that.

Not after he kneecapped the gym teacher.

Before he went to America he’d been told to behave himself. This wasn’t their little town on the outskirts of Moscow that his grandfather practically owned. So when Steven ‘Cupcake’ Hollister took it upon himself to teach Pavel some ‘respect’ when he’d crashed into the older man Pavel had been at best, bemused.

It had not been too bad, just a little intimidation and shoving about. Pavel had bitten his tongue and stared furiously at the ground whenever Hollister showed up but he was proud of himself of not rising to the occasion.

Hollister himself never went too far, Pavel was just sport. He was too small and unthreatening to be of any real interest.

Then, about a week before Summer Break, Pavel made the mistake of calling him Cupcake.

***

Hikaru didn’t know why he chose to stop that day. Perhaps it was because the kid reminded him of himself when he’d been of a similar age and just following Kenji about. His elder cousin had always had his back so maybe he felt some sort of compulsion to fill the same role of protector. Or maybe it was because the kid suddenly appeared to have spunk.

The kid had come rushing along as usual - Hikaru had no idea why he didn’t just leave his room 10 minutes early and save trouble and Hollister had reached out and grabbed his collar.

‘Urk!’

‘Well if it isn’t the little Ruski. You in a hurry, princess?’

The boy wriggled free and then glared at larger man, refusing to say anything.

Hollister laughed spitefully and turned to one of his four goons. ‘Quiet one, int he? D’you think he even understands English?’

‘Maybe he can’t talk,’ said the goon. ‘Dunno why they let a baby into Starfleet in the first place. But you know what they say about Old Man Jenkins.’

Jenkins was the Warp Physics professor. Hikaru had no idea what they said about him other than that he was a miserable old fart who seemed to think that the academy would be much better place if it had no cadets in it.

‘He’s sweet on this one,’ said another. ‘Always seeing him after class for “extra-credit”’

The kid hissed at this. It was an angry noise.

‘Oh ya understood that didya? What’s the matter? Don’t like it when I talk about your boyfriend?’

‘I have somevere to be,’ the boy said through gritted teeth.

‘You in a hurry to go suck Jenkin’s dick, that it?’

‘Eedee tryakhate tvayu mamu*’ the boy muttered.

‘Speak in English, cocksucker.’

‘You’re boring me,’ said the kid. ‘I go now.’

‘You’ll go when I say you can go!’ Hollister noticed Hikaru watching. ‘You want something?’

‘Just on my way,’ said Hikaru and turned to go. They probably wouldn’t hurt the kid. After all there was no honour for five fully grown men to beat up a skinny little thing like him. Then he heard something that made him stop in his tracks.

‘I don’t have time for zis, Cupcake. I come here on my vey back. You insult me more then, da?’

The goons who had been snickering to each other fell quiet.

‘What did you say?’ growled Hollister.

The boy’s eyes went wide as he realised his error, then he did something that Hikaru didn’t think anyone was stupid enough to do. Not even Dirk.

He shrugged, grinned like a shark showing all his teeth – it looked more like a show of aggression than humour - and then spat in Hollister’s face.

Well, you have to admit it was kinda impressive.

***

Pavel figured he was screwed either way, now so he might as well do it properly. He grinned in a way that had always made even his grandfather’s men back off and then spat in Hollister’s face.

‘Cupcake!’ he screamed. ‘Cupcake! Cupcake! Cupcake!’

He dropped to the ground, swung his leg out knocking Hollister’s out from under him and he might have managed to slip between the goon’s legs and make his escape if instinct hadn’t made him reach for his guns. His guns that weren’t there because he hadn’t worn them for almost a year.

The sense of loss was so extreme that it was paralysing. This gave Hollister time to recover from the fall and his goons from the shock.

Hollister dragged him up by his collar.

‘You’re in for it now, princess,’ he snarled in Pavel’s face.

Pavel smashed his PADD over Hollister’s head hard, breaking it and then slashed it across his face. Hollister screamed and let him go to clutch at his bleeding cheek.

His goons were quicker on the uptake this time and two of them grabbed Pavel’s arms. Pavel thrashed, kicking his legs wildly. He could see another goon advancing on him and braced himself for the first punch.

Which never came.

Someone stepped in front of him and caught the goon’s fist with his hand.

It was the boy-with-the-scar.

‘Now Geoffrey, hardly seems like a fair fight,’ he said. ‘Five of you. All grown up. Just one of him. All of seven.’

‘You gonna even the odds?’ the goon, who was apparently called Geoffrey, sneered. ‘He giving you head too as well as Jenkins?’

‘Some of us,’ said the boy with the scar. ‘Have honour. Of course I wouldn’t expect you to know what honour is. I mean, your mother proved that she had no honour when I fucked her last night.’

Geoffrey ran at him with an enraged howl. The boy-with-the-scar stepped aside neatly then brought his hand down sideways on his neck. As Geoffrey stumbled he kneed him in the stomach then grabbed the side of head. Then he hesitated for a fraction of a second as if unsure what to do.

He shook his head and clapped his hands over Geoffrey’s ears.

If Pavel didn’t know better he would have sworn that during that momentary pause his rescuer had meant to break Geoffrey’s neck. Although that could have just been the assassin in him talking.

Geoffrey screamed and rolled away clutching at his injuries.

Hollister walked up now blood dripping down his cheek. The other goons let go of Pavel and looked at Hollister for further instruction.

‘Look what you did to my face. I’m going to kill you slowly, princess,’ Hollister growled. ‘But first I’m gonna deal with your boyfriend.’

‘Get out of here,’ the boy with the scar hissed at Pavel.

‘No.’

‘Fuck off, kid. I’ve got this.’

‘I stay.’

Pavel wouldn’t leave now. Not if his life depended on it.

The fight was messy and unbalanced. The five men were stronger and used to scrapping. Pavel was inventive and fought dirty using his teeth and elbows and the-boy-with-the-scar was a skilled fighter but he was holding back for some reason. His moves were more defensive rather than offensive and he seemed reluctant to actually hurt anyone. When Pavel thought about this later, when he had time he was convinced that the boy had, for that split second, been prepared to kill Geoffrey instead of just incapacitating in. But right then he was too busy trying to avoid getting hit any more than he had to.

Salvation came from an unlikely source.

‘Cupcake!’ came a delighted cry. ‘You’re not having fun without me? And I thought you meant it the other night when you said you loved me after I fucked you like a bitch!’

It was the Kirk boy. John or Jim or something. The grumpy medic followed him, plucking at his elbow, trying to dissuade him.

‘Stay out of this farm-boy!’ said Hollister. ‘It doesn’t concern you!’

‘But it’s been so long since I kicked your ass and these guys look like they could use some help.’

‘Come on Jim. Can’t you let it pass? You’re like a dog with a bone, sometimes.’

‘I swear to God, Kirk. I’m gonna kick your ass so hard my boots gonna come out of your neck.’

‘I’d like to see you try, Cupcake!’

The boy with the scar nudged Pavel. ‘C’mon, let’s go,’ he hissed.

‘Go?’

‘Yeah, they’re not paying attention. I’ve seen these guys fight. They’ll trash talk for like an hour before they do anything. It’s like fighting foreplay for them or something.’

Pavel snickered, but still it seemed an awful lot like cowardice to sneak away so he waited until they were a respectable distance, picked up the largest rock he could find and threw it at Hollister’s head.

You could hear the thunk from over a mile. It just confirmed what Pavel had always thought - that Hollister had an incredibly thick skull.

***

They’d almost made it. Almost. If only the kid hadn’t just had to have the last word.

He had incredible aim; Hikaru had to give him that. Unfortunately Hollister had a very thick skull.

A rock that size would probably have knocked out a normal person, especially if they’d already taken a blow to the head hard enough to smash a PADD but Hollister just looked up and yelled something furiously.

Hikaru grabbed the kid’s arm. ‘Come on, you idiot. Run!’

They had a head start so it was easy to duck into the Main Academy building and into the auditorium. He dragged the kid under the bleachers and sank to the floor trying to get his breath back.

‘Vy are ve hiding?’

‘Because you run like my grandmother. Give me a minute, kid. I need to breathe.’

‘Your grandmuzzer?’

‘You don’t balance your weight properly. It slows you down’

‘Oh. But vy –‘

‘Because I don’t want to get involved in this sort of shit, okay?’

‘I did not ask for your help,’ the kid said angrily.

Maybe he’d been a little harsh. ‘Yeah, I know. I promised someone I’d keep my nose clean. Stay out of trouble. I’m a bit pissed off that I broke my promise.’

‘Vy did you?’

‘I don’t know. Didn’t like the idea of you facing all of those fuckers on your own. Maybe I’m tired of staying out of trouble. Why should you get to have all the fun? Just drop it okay?’

The boy nodded and then sat down next to Hikaru. ‘I break promise also,’ he said.

‘Yeah?’

‘Yes. To my Dedushka - Grandfather.’ He sighed. ‘And my mozzer also,’ he added as an afterthought.

Hikaru smiled. ‘So that’s both of us, then. But seriously? Calling Hollister ‘Cupcake’? Trying to take on five of them on your own? That has to be the most preposterous thing I’ve ever seen.’

‘Your face haz got to be the most preposterous thing I have ever seen,’ said the kid, but he was beginning to smile too and there was no malice in it.

‘My face?’ Hikaru scoffed. ‘How old are you? Thirteen?’

‘No. Fifteen.’

‘Fuck!’ So he must have been some sort of prodigy.

The kid smirked. ‘Maybe later. Ven ve are not being chased by angry hippo-men, da?’

Was the kid flirting with him?

‘Are you flirting with me?’ he asked incredulously.

‘Iz work?’

‘Fuck, no! You look like you’ve barely left kindergarten.’

‘Oh,’ said the kid sounding slightly disappointed. ‘Zen, no.’

Hikaru laughed. The kid had something. ‘Tell you what, Lolita,’ he said. ‘Look me up in three years time and then we’ll see.’

The kid looked a lot happier. ‘Really?’

‘I said, we’ll see.’ Shit. What was wrong with him? He didn’t usually flirt with children. He got to his feet before it went any further.

‘I’ll draw em off. You get back to your dorm and stay there. They’ll have forgotten this by tomorrow.’

The boy scrambled up hurriedly. ‘Vy should –‘

‘Cos I said so and ‘cos I’m faster.’ He held out a hand. ‘It’s Sulu, by the way. Hikaru Sulu.’

The boy shook it. ’Nice to meet you, Hikaru Sulu,’ he said. ‘I enjoy werry much fighting with you.’

‘Likewise,’ said Hikaru. Then he took his hand back as the kid seemed to have no intention of letting go.

‘Aren’t you gonna tell me your name?’ he asked before left.

The kid stuck his tongue out at him. ‘Call me Lolita.’

Yeah, the kid was definitely flirting with him.

***

Pavel had known exactly who the-boy-with-the-scar was.

He’d made it his business to know.

Pavel could be sweet and approachable if he wanted to, and people told him things. And it wasn’t as if Hikaru Sulu exactly blended into the scenery.

He sometimes looked – and Pavel had spent a lot of time during the past year watching him – like he was trying, making an effort not to blend in. When he wanted to he could disappear in the blink of an eye. If you weren’t watching for it, if the-boy-with-the-scar didn’t want you to notice him, you wouldn’t.

He would have been a lot more successful at getting people to not notice the scar if he didn’t try to hide it. He wore his hair long, emo-hair some of the others called it, combed over the side of his face where the scar was, but even then he couldn’t quite hide it.

Pavel wondered if he thought it made him look interesting. If he did it was working.

Pavel knew which classes the-boy-with-scar took. He knew which dorm room he slept in, who his roommate was, who his friends were. Pavel knew he was probably going to be fast-tracked as a pilot, knew he was the best fencer in the fencing club and that he had once, during some drunken cadet party put a lampshade on his head and sung ‘I am a purple pixie fairy’+.

Well ok, everyone knew about the lampshade story. But Pavel had been there, watching.

He’d wanted the boy-with-the-scar before, but after that night he’d fallen a little in love with him. There was something about seeing a person at ease and open and happy that was different. Something in the way he moved when he wasn’t worried someone was watching. Something in the way he smiled when he didn’t care who saw.

He’d seen the same smile tonight when they’d been hiding under the bleachers.

Pavel hated having to be saved. He hated having someone protect him. He’d kicked up such a fuss about his bodyguards that he hadn’t had one since he was twelve. (He’d had to shoot the last three before his grandfather agreed that he was capable enough but that was neither here nor there).

But he decided that he wouldn’t quite mind being looked after as long as it was the-boy- no, he’d given Pavel his name so it was alright to call him Hikaru now. It wasn’t as if Pavel had stolen it.

He went to his dorm room as he was told but couldn’t sleep. His heart was racing too fast, his mind too full of thoughts, full of nonsense.

He said I should look him up. He tried to help. He smiled at me.

That smile would be the death of him.

Eventually he gave up and snuck back into the auditorium. He put on his ballet shoes and headphones and danced until his shoes were worn out and his feet were bleeding. Danced until he was exhausted in mind as well as body, but even his dreams were full of Hikaru Sulu, the-boy-with-the-scar.

The next morning Pavel decided that there was no point in obsessing about it.

Alright, no point in obsessing about it anymore than he already did.

He’d go down and talk to Hikaru. He knew what time he had breakfast. He’d go down and say thank you for last night.

There were butterflies in his stomach when he approached Hikaru’s table.

‘Um... Hello,’ he croaked out, which was not the scintillating opener he had hoped for. But it wasn’t ‘I love you. Please take me now. On this table,’ either so that was a good thing.

Then Hikaru turned around and Pavel gasped.

The right half of his face – the one without the scar was like a battlefield. He had a black eye, an ugly purpling bruise on his cheek and his lip had been split open.

Hikaru tried to smile but couldn’t quite manage it. ‘Close your mouth Lolita. A fly might get in.’

‘Zey got you,’ whispered Pavel.

Hikaru shrugged. ‘Yeah, turns out I wasn’t as fast as I thought I was either. This place is making me soft.’

‘Zis is my fault.’ Pavel was furious with himself. He shouldn’t have agreed to let Hikaru lead them away. This was why you didn’t let people protect you. This was why you stood up for yourself.

‘Hey, don’t look like that, kid. I’ve had worse.’ And now he did grin. ‘You should have seen the other five.’

‘You vent easy on zem,’ ground out Pavel. ‘I saw you. Before. You could have hurt them but you didn’t. ‘

‘I told you. I made a promise. And you win some fights and you lose some. These things happen.’

‘Hollister vould not be such a big man if he did not have his – his – how you say? – group vith him. He ewer take on a man on his own and he fail.’

‘Yeah,’ Hikaru said thoughtfully. ‘Cest la vie, right? Although, he won’t always have the Muffin gang around to watch his back.’

Pavel smiled. ‘Zat’s right,’ he said. ‘He von’t.’

‘I don’t know what you’re thinking,’ said Hikaru turning back to his breakfast. ‘And frankly, I don’t wanna know. Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t.’

‘Who me?’ said Pavel. ‘I vouldn’t dream of it.’

***

There was something not quite right about Loli - the curly-haired kid. Hikaru was not going to call him Lolita any more. This was ridiculous. He was not attracted to short, scrawny, pale little fifteen year-olds.

But he couldn't deny the sudden shock of arousal that had coursed through him when the boy had smiled cruelly when he'd agreed that Hollister would not always have the Muffin Gang around to protect him.

The kid knew how to fight. If the men had been his own age, not to mention his own size he'd probably make mincemeat of them. And there was that thing he'd said - You could have hurt them but you didn’t.

Hikaru knew from experience that sometimes the only way to get someone off your back was to hurt them so badly that they were afraid to come after you. Even that didn't always work. Some people had no honour. Beat them one on one and they'd come back with a crowd. Beat the crowd and the next time they'd show up with crowbars.

Hikaru's own battle with gangland bullies had ended rather messily. He had tried but sometimes the only thing to do was to tie someone to a chair and put their eyes out. Hikaru smiled to himself.

Oh, come on. He'd only killed the leader. He'd let the others live.

Sorta.

He sniggered. They wouldn't be spending any more time bullying short, skinny kids. (They'd probably spend the rest of their time being fed by a tube but it wasn't Hikaru's fault they'd kept pushing him.)

He was not worried about what the kid was going to do.

At least he wasn't until he ran into Dirk. And the grumpy medic.

The grumpy medic's real name was Bones McCoy, but everyone knew him as the grumpy medic.

'He should get a grumpy partner,' Bob had said once. 'And they can be Starfleet's very own Statler and Waldorf!'

'Do we really want another one?' Hikaru had asked.

'But Statler and Waldorf!' protested Bob. Hikaru had sighed, and conceded. He was not going to get into another Muppet based argument with Bob. The last time they'd disagreed on whether Animal or Fozzy Bear was funnier; the entire floor had got involved and the battle had raged for days.

Hikaru couldn't remember who won the argument but it had ended in a water balloon fight, a Team-Fozzy vs Team-Animal tequila contest and he'd woken up the next morning next to two girls and a very pretty boy.

He had a feeling the current skirmish would not end quite so pleasantly. He told the voice that said he might still be able to wake up next to a very pretty boy to shut up.

'Hoo!' said Dirk. 'That looks painful. Cupcake get you in the end?'

'Yeah,' said Hikaru. 'Broke his nose for him though.'

'Excellent!' said Dirk.

'It was not excellent,' snapped the grumpy medic. 'We had him in last night whining and dripping nose blood over everything. How am I supposed to set a nose if the patient won’t stop squirming. Got his nose blood all down my shirt. Do you know how unhygienic nose-blood is?'

'How’s the little kid? The Einstein?' said Dirk ignoring him.

'He's okay.' said Hikaru. 'Managed to get him to go home.'

'They shouldn't allow children here,' said the grumpy medic grumpily. 'And if they are going to let children here, they should keep them away from characters like Hollister. I mean he knocks a couple of Jim's teeth loose that's probably because Jim deserved it, but picking on a kid is just wrong!'

'Bones has a little girl,' explained Dirk.

'Do you know Hollister's going around saying he's going to cut up a fifteen year old’s face? He needed stitches from a gash the kid gave him and he’s saying he's going to have the Muffins hold the boy down while he repays it with interest! And no-one does a thing. And I'm not allowed to do a thing because it isn't a crime to shoot your mouth off!'

'What?' Hikaru's blood ran cold. 'He said what?'

'He probably don't mean it,' said Dirk said dismissively. 'Fucker can't keep his mouth shut's all. Besides, he's being investigated for some drug thing. Won't have time.'

'Drug thing?'

'Yeah, went around telling people he could hook em up. Told this Vulcan instructor he could cut him a deal on some special chocolate and got himself into trouble. Like I said fucker can't keep his mouth shut. But better tell the kid to lay low.'

'Yeah,' said Hikaru absently. 'Thanks for the warning.'

Sometimes, the only way to stop a bully was to hurt him so he'd never get up again.

***

Pavel was pretty good at not being noticed when he didn't want to be as well.

He smiled from the shadows.

Fucker couldn't keep his mouth shut, was that right?

It was probably time somebody shut it for him.

***

Jim Kirk wasn't expecting to be jumped that night. It was the last week of the semester, he had gotten three girl's PADD numbers and he was headed to a 'Private Party' which he very much hoped meant orgy.

What do you mean, promiscuous? He just had a lot of love to share!

He was buzzing pleasantly when saw the Muffin Gang sans Cupcake. Jim wondered where he was before he remembered that he was under house arrest - or room arrest - whatever, he wasn't allowed out.

'Evening Ladies,' called Jim. 'Your pimp taken the night off?'

Cupcake wasn't the only one who had trouble with keeping his mouth shut.

He was just about to get stuck in when one of them - Geoffrey - stopped suddenly, gurgled and put a hand to the back of his neck. When he came back it was bloody. He turned around wildly, and then his eyes exploded.

Now the other goons were falling, screaming. Clutching at their chests, their necks, their eyes. Jim had no idea what was going on. It was like they were being shot but from where? From who.

There was blood everywhere.

Zip! Zip! Zip! It was as if invisible missiles were being thrown at them from all sides. They were going for maximum impact Bones would tell him later. Major arteries. Heart. Brain. It was all very cold, calculated and efficient.

And painful, Bones would tell him. They'd have felt everything until the moment they died. They would have died blind, terrified and in agony.

It took all of ten minutes. The bodies lay in a circle around Jim, still at last. Jim stared, unable to move feeling the scream in his throat, too petrified to let it loose.

He hadn't been touched. Not even a scratch. Whoever they were - because of course they had to be a they, no one person could have possibly been responsible, could they? - had known exactly what they were doing.

***

Steven Hollister paced his room angrily. The rest of the gang were supposed to be here with beer. Fucking stupid pixie eared Vulcan. He'd get his someday. Everyone else was out having fun and he was stuck here on his own.

He stomped out to go over to the window at the other side of the corridor overlooking the path. Nothing. If those fuckers had decided to spend his own money and go off without him he was going to fucking kill them.

The lights were off when he got back. That was odd. He could have sworn he'd left them on.

Someone shoved him into the room and then the door slammed.

'Alright, who's fuc -'

He didn't get to finish his sentence. Something sharp and tight looped around his neck cutting off his air supply. Something with spikes that cut into his neck even as it choked him.

He struggled, tried to claw it away. His fingers couldn't get a grip and kept slipping from the stickiness of his own blood. His lungs were exploding. Whoever it was, was not about to let go.

Steven felt his legs go and dropped to his knees.

'Ze thing people forget about the boy dancers,' said a voice in his ear, harsh and grating. 'Iz zat ven you are lifting girls all day, throwing zem around and catching zem, ve have wery strong arms. I've heard you lose control over your bowels ven zis happens - ugh - zey were right.'

And now the dark was closing in on him. The voice was very faint as if it was coming from far away.

'Zis is how you die - in your own blood and excrement. Do Svidaniya, Motherfucker.'

It was the last thing Steven Hollister ever heard.

***

Starfleet had never seen anything quite like it before.

The five murders rocked the Academy to its core. All leave was cancelled immediately until they had a satisfactory answer.

One thing was clear. It had been a professional hit. The person or persons who had killed Geoffrey Hopkins, Damien Saunders, Justin Di Maggio and Richard Smith-DeLaney had collected nails and shrapnel from all over the academy - some were even pebbles sharpened to a point and apparently used some sort of firing device or launcher to cause many small and large haemorrhages in a very small time.

The cause of death had been massive blood-loss from multiple injuries.

Steven Hollister had been strangled by chicken or barbed wire.

The wire had been neatly clipped from one of the fences surrounding the airfield.

It was eventually decided that it had been a mob killing. Hollister was being investigated on suspected possession and distribution charges and everyone knew that the man could not keep a secret. They would have got the truth out of him in the end.

Possibly the other men knew something as well.

The only question was how the assassins had got there. A hidden craft? A sleeper ship? No-one had seen them come or go. No-one had seen anything. James T. Kirk had been the only witness but he had been severely intoxicated at the time and quickly ruled out of any involvement other than being at the wrong place at the wrong time.

He'd had his disagreements with the victims in the past but everyone agreed he wasn't capable of such a thing.

The drug lords were known for having highly advanced technology.

Of course there was the possibility that the Academy had been infiltrated but their security checks were beyond scrutiny so this was dismissed as ludicrous.

There is a code of honour among members of certain criminal organisations known as Omerta. A vow of silence. You will not co-operate. You will not speak to them. What happens in the syndicate stays within the syndicate.

And everyone knew that Steven Hollister was a man who could not keep his mouth shut.

In later years the incident would be known as 'The Omerta Murders'.

***

Hikaru met the kid on the academy steps by the bay at sunset. There was some sort of memorial service going on inside but he wasn't sure, given the circumstances, that his attendance would be entirely appropriate.

The kid was sitting there resting his chin on his hands, elbows on his knees. Hikaru sat down next to him.

'I was hoping I'd run into you.'

The kid smiled at him. 'Vell, here I am.'

'I'm not calling you Lolita.' Hikaru wasn't sure what he meant by that.

The boy looked at him curiously for a second, as if trying to imagine what he was thinking. 'Pavel Andreievich Chekov.'

'Chekov, huh?'

'Pavel.'

'Right. So you hear about old Cupcake?'

'Yes. And his men.'

Did he know? Had he been the other?

'Tragic waste of life,' said Hikaru cautiously. Best play it safe.

'Yes,' said Pavel mournfully. 'Zey really vere, veren't zey.'

Hikaru cracked up. He couldn't help himself. He clamped his hands over his mouth to try and stop the laughter but it was of no use. He bent double and laughed until the tears streamed down his face.

Pavel was giggling uncontrollably as well.

Once they managed to control themselves they sat quietly, compatibly watching the sun sink into the lake.

'I'll be on the Accelerated Pilot's Program next year,' said Hikaru. 'I probably won't be landside for a while.'

He wasn't quite sure why he was telling the kid this.

Pavel nodded soberly. 'I thought you vould be.' He hesitated. 'So you said in three years time... uh'

'Don't fall for me, kid. I'll only break your heart.'

Pavel looked away and something tugged at Hikaru's heart. 'But,' he continued. 'Yeah, why not? Three years time, if I aint doing anything else, look me up.'

The boy beamed at this. It was as brilliant, as radiant as the sunset and for one second Hikaru thought about forgetting how young the kid was and kissing him. But if he did that he'd be in danger of falling himself. It was far too risky to let anyone in.

Instead he licked his thumb and then ran it along Pavel's lower lip. Leaned in close to his ear and whispered -

'Stay dangerous, baby.'

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Notes
*The swearsaurus informs me that Pavel told Hollister to go fuck his mother.

+I don't know what the 'I am a purple pixie fairy' song is. I might make one up later XD

I do not own the white rabbit, the Muppets or any other thing you might recognise.


Go on then, tell me how bad it was and how I am a twisted freak who should be seeking serious professional help as of yesterday.