Skip to main content
News
  • 2019-12-06: Please check your inboxes and reply to the Star Trek Theurgy Census before the 8th of December!
  • 2019-12-06: Please cast your votes for the Researcher's Medal and the Depth of Character Award Categories on the Main OOC board!
  • 2019-11-01: Please welcome CTaylor, CorruptedCookie & LostInTheForest to the sim in the Main OOC thread!
  • 2019-10-19: New Story Objectives! Check the new Story Objectives page, which has been separated from the Aldea Prime Calendar. The Story Objectives page can now be found under Community in the top menu.
  • 2019-10-04: A new Story Workshop has begun on the Main OOC thread, please make sure to post your ideas for Season 2!
  • 2019-10-04: Until we have better ways for In-Character recruitment to our hidden ship, recruitment is now closed aside for Applicants who are willing to inherit Available Characters.
  • 2019-10-04: Did you know that you can write your characters in the past, on the Director's Cut board, and even in a parallel universe, on the What if board?.
  • 2019-04-30: Season 1 has come to an end, and we have begun to write in the Aldea Prime Anthology between Seasons. Read more on the Aldea Prime Anthology board!
  • 2018-12-17: Did you know that you can change the ship displayed on the site in your Look and Layout settings? Pick your favourite ship or warp fighter! You can also add writing requests to your Forum Profile.
  • 2018-12-17: If you check your character page, and click on the Academy Class link at the bottom of the page, you can see who your character went to the Academy with. Perfect for Director's Cut board shenanigans!
  • 2018-01-24: Unless you've already made a request, would you like character artwork? Then make your request here!

Topic: Day 11 [1345 hrs.] Murder, He Wrote (Read 131 times) previous topic - next topic

0 Members and 1 Guest are viewing this topic.
Day 11 [1345 hrs.] Murder, He Wrote
Murder, He Wrote
Stardate: 57584.27
March 21, 2381
1345hrs

[Ensign Seren |  Seren Personal Quarters | Deck 15 | Vector 1 | USS Theurgy]
[Show/Hide]
att: @fienfall

Seren inhaled deeply and folded his hands across his lap. In the privacy of his quarters, he indulged in a slight deviation from the standard meditative posture and bowed his head to the left. Thus, the bright amber light from the planet that the station orbited was bathing the right side of his face. The radiance permeated both pairs of eyelids that protected his right eye, stimulating gently the photosensitive cells of his retina. This created some kind of ghosts in his optic nerve. Meanwhile, is other eye remained in darkness, protected by the shade of his cranium, deprived of any stimuli.

The Vulcan focused on that contrast of impulses, as he had done so many times in T'Kara, with the light of the desert washing one of his eyes while the other remained under the twilight of the peristyle columns. The purpose of the practice was to balance the responsiveness of his body, so that all external triggers were nullified and that his body's automatic reaction to something as elementary as light and darkness would bend to the desires of his intellect. Only then would he be able to enter into a deep meditative state, into a motionless non-reactive nothingness that would allow him to divest himself of any vestige of emotion. Only then could he classify the events of the last days and last hours in a logical and orderly manner. Only then would his mind attain the necessary repose and equilibrium.

That Seren had relied on this advanced technique spoke volumes of the imbalance that fatigue had inflicted on him. Not only the physical and mental extenuation of his incident on Aldea's surface, but also of his last session with his most fractious patient, Carrigan Trent. If there was something that was characteristic of Vulcans, it was their patience, and their inability to forgo to discouragement. And, yet, there was something in his dealings with the former XO that irked him deeply. One of the muscles in the corner of his lips twitched a bit and his eyebrows lowered four millimeters over his closed eyes.

Perhaps what disturbed him about the human was that imaginative ability to fold reality so that blame always falls on another, so that he became a kind of tragic, unblemished hero who fought against everything and everyone in an epic battle condemned to defeat, but which would only constitute a pitfall in his hero's path from which he would rise, stronger than ever. Seren cherished epic narrative and could be regarded as an apt minstrel. He was well acquainted with the 348 verses of Falor's Journey and could recite them unerringly alongside his lute. Nevertheless, no matter how enlightenment that song might be, Seren was well aware of the difference between narration and reality, and how the latter tended to be more complex than the former. And Carrigan Trent's reluctance to accept his own flaws and the fallibility of his own persona to depict himself as a hero at all costs was as far-fetched as Falor's journey.

Seren inhaled and exhaled deeply anew to set aside such digressions. He had to concentrate on that moment. In the steady pounding of his heart, now under control. In the shallow, regular rhythm of his breathing. In the light heat of the local star on his right cheek. After 17.34 minutes, the young ensign succeeded in clearing his mind. Approximately six minutes later, he was able to discard any distractions, both external and internal ones.  Shortly after, his head leaned forward, until his chin reached his chest. A hoarse sound abandoned his lips them, alien to his command.

Seren was oblivious to this development.

What he did notice is how the door to his chambers opened abruptly, letting in a gust of cold air from the adjacent corridor. What he did hear was how a pair of boots thundered on the bare floorplates of his abode. As he opened his eyes, in an attempt to get rid of the deep meditative lethargy in which he had plunged, he heard a disrespectful voice with which he had become too familiar in recent days. One that vexed him in a different manner than Carrigan Trent. Partly because it triggered that craving that he tried to conceal. But mainly because he was irked by his ill-mannered speech. And, apparently, Inej Avirim had invaded his sanctum with a new battery of exceptionally creative foul epithets. Seren blinked a couple of times in an attempt to make sense of the Risian's gibberish.

There was only one thing he managed to unravel: there had been a murder. And he was one of the suspects. "I am not a murderer," he asserted to his former cellmate. Notwithstanding all his endeavours to conceal it, there was a point of outrage in the Vulcan's voice. And another of disbelief.
Lt. JG Khorin Douglas [Show/Hide]
Lt. JG. Izar Bila [Show/Hide]
Ensign Seren [Show/Hide]

Re: Day 11 [1345 hrs.] Murder, He Wrote
Reply #1
[ Avi ] Attn: @Numen

A'right, this was startin' t'get fuckin' ridiculous now.

Left Qo'noS what, a week ago? Just over. Middle'a the night job. Run halfway across the damn quadrant on a mission t'make any Feds what didn't already hate him decide y'know what, this dude fuckin' sucks, first guy t'shoot him gets a space pony. Then gotta hitchhike the rest'a the way out t'Bumfuck Nowhere just in time t'be fuckin' kidnapped or whatever the shit, an' when he finally makes it out -- an' alive, he might add, which took some fuckin' doin' -- an' gets t'the ship, what's there t'greet him?

Some bloke'd only gone an' died all over Avi's damn afternoon, that's what.

Least he got his shower. Mouth no longer tasted like the planet's arse, all dusty an' full'a grit. Hot meal an' all, even a damn nap, so nah, weren't the worst, but coulda done with a day t'get his fuckin' bearings afore folks started offing each other. Too much t'ask, really? Christmas. Inconsid'rate, is what it was.

Anyways. Murder bein' his job these days -- not sure on how that one happened, but figured there weren't much cause for investigatin' on a ship, folks here prob'ly don't got much experience or somethin'? Which was a bad fuckin' sign, never want Avi as your most qualified for nothin' -- got pinged outta his nap t'come take a look or whatever. Alright, alright, on his way, yeah yeah let 'im put on some fuckin' pants.

Got ready pretty sharpish, not a problem, but then took him a full fuckin' fifteen minutes just to find his damn way around this shitting ship. Oh no, sorry, did he forgot to mention -- it's three fuckin' ships right now, an' you gotta beam from one t'the other, don't go tryna take a turbolift to a deck what ain't attached, tosser.

Add that t'the fact this boat was the size of a fuckin' city, an' yeah, we got a problem. Got a head for direction normally, yeah, but you wanna try that with a fuckin' 3D puzzle what's been pulled apart? Half asleep an' knowin' there's a body waitin' for you at the other end?

Mate.

So. Fifteen minutes, give or take. Or, well. Give. Whatever. Made it in the end, alright? Reported all nice-like for a briefin' on the whole thing, get his orders. Failed t'suppress a laugh, findin' out the vic was Mr Intelligence 'round here. Yeah, that tracked. Got some funny looks, but when don't he? Whatever.

Time of death 1047, durin' some kinda maintenance cycle -- would ask on that later. Phaser shot in the back, dialled up. Thirty folks in that area at the time, interviews already-- Wait what the fuck? Thirty? An' none of 'em noticed nothin'?

Got told t'look at some group of folks, off another boat or somethin'? 'Pparently Mrs Theurgy playin' rescue, 'cept they was the one what fucked the other boat in the first place, so great fuckin' rescue lads good job 10/10.

That weren't even the half of it. Vic also been-- no fuckin' way, guy'd been mutiny'd like, a week ago? Fukin' hell, no one liked this bloke did they? An' then, what, got mutiny'd, got slapped on the wrist, busted down (ha), an' then just left out where anyone could take a pop at him? Knowin' half the damn ship was prob'ly gonna try? Weren't there no one what'd take this bugger of Theurgy's hands? Knew a couple'a pirates what were down a man or two, coulda introduced 'em.

An' yeah, 'confined to quarters' counted as 'bein' left out there' in Avi's book.

Why couldn't it've just been some spurned lover or some shit. Why'd it gotta have to go an' be somethin' complicated. Fuck's sake, he'd been asleep.

Seemed them lot off the Belly-whatever was numero uno, but instructions was t'keep this shit on the down-low, couldn't go havin' no panic or nothin'. Couldn't go pointin' fingers afore they was sure. Standard. 'Cept, fuck this one up an' there weren't nowhere left t'run to. Nowhere left t'ship anyone out to. Shit out here would fuckin' stain, never get it out.

No pressure or nothin', Known Fuck-Up Inej.

Just jammy.

Anyway. Figured had found hisself an in. Flippin' through the file, spotted a face he fuckin' knew. Of all the souls on this damn ship, had gotta be fartin' Spaghetti Boy. A'course this bloke was caught up in this shit.

So. House call!

Found the kid doin' some meditation garbage in his room. Rapped his knuckles against the wall -- already inside, didn't knock, door was open, whatever. Better t'ask for forgiveness, y'know. Also couldn't be fucked.

'Eggs an' bakey, up an' at 'em!' Was basically a greetin'. Leant up somewhere could watch the kid. 'Some bloke's got hisself murdered. Know anythin' about that, Twinketoes?'

Yeah, yeah, need-to-know. Hadn't spaffed out all the info, though he'd get t'that no doubt. Didn't figure the kid for a murderer, not for a damn second. More like, some fella what might be kinda useful, least he knew the vic better'n Avi.

Still, due diligence an' all that. Gotta go through the motions afore he could bring the guy in. An' my my, was worth it -- bloke was downright emotional over it. Almost an expression an' all! Wouldja look at that.

'Careful, Spork, carry on like that an' you'll pull a muscle.' Jokey-joke. Still, watchin' the guy, careful-like. 'Just a question, mate. Boat like this, figure news travels fast. Just tryna tell how much news, is all.' Didn't know if the bloke would go for it. Was a counsellor, so could prob'ly see right through him. Whatever. Keep it close t'the chest for now, yeah?
CPO Morgan Song - Engineering - Chief of Maintenance (V2) [Show/Hide]
Lt Cmdr Hathev - Counselling - Chief Counsellor [Show/Hide]
Ensign Inej 'Avi' Avirim - Security - Investigations Officer [Show/Hide]
Xelia - Civillian - Software Engineer [Show/Hide]

Re: Day 11 [1345 hrs.] Murder, He Wrote
Reply #2
[Ensign Seren |  Seren Personal Quarters | Deck 15 | Vector 1 | USS Theurgy]
[Show/Hide]
att: @fienfall

Seren blinked a couple of times before he rose to his feet and met face-to-face with his incomprehensible guest. During that brief exercise, he exerted all his restraint in tempering his features. If Avirim would not have desecrated his quarters in the middle of the most profound of his meditation this exercise would have been futile, for his control over the reactions of his visage should have been perfect. However, the Risian had the aptitude to present himself when he was most troublesome, so he had to invest that brief pause in recovering his flawless façade. Of course, someone so distracted by the hectic emotions that subdued him as the recently appointed security officer would not notice that brief delay. One would have to be observant to perceive it, and Seren was quite confident that this was not one of his recent cellmate's talents.

" Certainly the reports that a murder has been committed are a novelty for me,"
he replied soberly. " I have remained in my quarters since..." Seren halted for 1.23 seconds to check his internal clock. There was a small lapse in which he had lost track of time, a misstep that he could impute to the depth of the meditation in which he had immersed himself. " One hour, eight minutes and forty-three seconds in meditation," he specified concisely. Seren didn't find any need to remind him that he was Vulcan and that this implied that it was illogical that he should lie in a situation like the one he found himself in. "If you need a detailed account of all my activities since we returned to the starship, I can make a more accurate description of them, but it would be more efficient if you outlined the period of time in which the crime has been committed in order to not waste valuable time on superfluous digressions." he added.

Seren tilted his head to the left slightly and then folded his hands behind his back, deviating a bit from the pristine, straight posture he had held thus far. The young man had always been an adept follower of holonovel about detectives and misterious conundrums and he could not help but see the parallels between the present situation and some of the mysteries that had pleased him deeply. As execrable as the situation was, the counsellor was intrigued. And due curiosity was a valid emotion given the present circumstances, even more so considering Seren's natural willingness to be useful. "If you could also specify who was the victim and the circumstances in which he has been found I may provide some information based on their psychological profile". An absolutely rational proposal, after all Seren was familiar with all the original crew profiles and he was instructing himself in the incorporations that had been performed since he was put on ice.

"I am here to serve", he declared mechanically.
  • Last Edit: December 09, 2019, 12:49:51 PM by Numen
Lt. JG Khorin Douglas [Show/Hide]
Lt. JG. Izar Bila [Show/Hide]
Ensign Seren [Show/Hide]

Re: Day 11 [1345 hrs.] Murder, He Wrote
Reply #3
[ Avi ] Attn: @Numen

Took Sandwich a bit t'get hisself lookin' all Vulcan an' prissy again, bless his little grumpy socks. Prob'ly hadn't helped, Avi breakin' in on him an' all -- weren't that mindfull shit what them lot did instead of sleepin' or somethin'? No wonder Spring Onion was off his game.

Really was off his game, took a full blink t'remember how long he'd been in his damn room for. An' listen, Avi weren't too familiar with Vulcans, truth be -- not much call t'be spyin' on them lot now is there? -- but knew enough t'spot when they slip up. Knew enough t'know that shit ain't happenin' often.

An', well well well. Spaghetti just tired, or Spaghetti tryna hide somethin'? Then again, 'f a Vulcan wanted t'hide somethin' from Avi, legit-like, couldn't help figurin' he wouldn't be able t'spot it. Was good at spottin' a liar, sure, but that good? Nah mate.

Keep an eye on him, all the same. 'Pparently Skateboard had flagged the vic as bein' shit awful at his job an' also depressed as fuck or somethin' -- Avi'd skimmed it, whatever -- an' there was the possibility he'd utilitarianism'd hisself into a murderer or some shit. Would be just like a Vulcan, honestly. Couldn't just own the fact they was arseholes, no, gotta brain-fuck 'emselves into it. 'S alright! Everyone plans a murder now an' then! Don't gotta go makin' it logical or nothin'.

One hour, eight minutes, an'-- arright, call it one hour ten. One hour ten ago, put Snail meditatin' since 1230, near as. Lockdown'd been in effect on Vector 2 since 1053, an' had only fully come up a half hour ago, give or take. Folks with official business had been allowed on an' off afore that, but as early as 1230?

Checked the transport logs.

'Sure mate, why don'tcha elevator pitch me what a mornin' in the life looks like? You get up t'anythin' fun since comin' aboard?' They'd made it back at, what? Hadn't checked the damn time, hadn't thought it'd come up in a fuckin' murder investigation, fuckin' court martial him. Had made it t'his room for, what, 0830? Ish? So before then.

Plenty'a fuckin' mornin' t'be gettin' on with. Murder only needed three seconds, after all.

'Have a looksee...' Feigned business with his PADD. Remembered well enough without havin' t'pull up anythin', but didn't 'xactly want Spanner knowin' that. ''Pparently didn't waste much time gettin' back t'work, look at you! Counsellin' again at 0900 hrs, no rest for the wicked eh? Meetin' at 1000 to 1020. Do anythin' fun after, or just pick your nose for two hours?'

Waited for his response afore sayin' nothin' else. Spatula seemed kinda int'rested in the whole thing, t'be honest. Head cocked like some puppy or somethin'. Bless him, fuckin' adorable. Would suck if he turned out t'be the fella what'd offed the vic. Bloke was annoyin' sure, but seemed like a stand up guy. As much as anyone, leastways.

Watched him a second afore tellin' him who'd died. If Spork was the murderer, or had somethin' t'do with it, he'd know already, obviously. An' he'd also know Avi knew, so no point in pretendin'. If he weren't the murderer, then could obviously offer insight, bein' the vic's counsellor an' all.

Still. I may provide some information based on their psychological proflie, yeah, sure. Awful convenient. An' murderin' folks did sometimes like t'be helpful after, make 'emselves feel good or somethin'. Whatever happened to just whackin' someone over the head an' leggin' it? Gotta go an' be perverts about it, fuck's sake.

Had t'check the vic's name real quick. For the best, turned out: was this close t'callin' him fuckin' Cardigan.

'Lieutenant Trent.' Watched the fella's reaction real close. 'Friend'a yours? Condolences. Got hisself shot up on Vector 2, 1050 this mornin'.'
  • Last Edit: December 29, 2019, 04:09:37 AM by fiendfall
CPO Morgan Song - Engineering - Chief of Maintenance (V2) [Show/Hide]
Lt Cmdr Hathev - Counselling - Chief Counsellor [Show/Hide]
Ensign Inej 'Avi' Avirim - Security - Investigations Officer [Show/Hide]
Xelia - Civillian - Software Engineer [Show/Hide]

Re: Day 11 [1345 hrs.] Murder, He Wrote
Reply #4
[Ensign Seren |  Seren Personal Quarters | Deck 15 | Vector 1 | USS Theurgy]
[Show/Hide]
att: @fienfall

That his former cellmate had taken him out of his meditation was bad enough. That he suspected he had committed a murder was even worse. But that he dared to ask for a list of his activities since they had returned to the vessel was simply outrageous. Seren stared up at him for two seconds, his brow slightly furrowed. Ah, well. What Avirim probably ignored (or didn't remember as clearly as he should have) is that Vulcans thrived on technicalities. And Seren was especially adept at them.

"After meeting with Chief Counsel Hathev, I transferred to transporter room 3 reaching there at 1024. I called for a transfer to transporter room 2, where I arrived at 1026. I walked to my personal quarters and arrived here at 1032. I checked my incoming messages until 1047, and muted any new inbound ones. I made a detailed report regarding the patient I had treated until 1103. I reviewed the logs and sent them to the Chief Counsellor at 1112. I walked to the library and research room, adjacent to my quarters, where I arrived at 1114 where I  conducted a research about material on post-traumatic stress and paranoia in Starfleet officers, collecting 47 records of veteran officers on the Cardassian front during the Dominion War, and finished sorting out the relevant documents at 1133. I skimmed the texts for relevant information about my patient, picking out the following texts:..." Seren proceeded to cite each of the twenty-three files he had chosen in the author name's alphabetical order and quoted the pages that were relevant to his interest. " ... I dematerialized the remaining documents at 1148. I proceeded into my rooms, arriving here at 1150. I irrigated the Hephaestusflosferam Sanguinemcordis beside my bed with 125 millilitres of purified water enriched with 12.4 millilitres of the fertilizer C-12 and observed the general state of the plant until 1206. I took a sonic shower, shaved and cut my hair. I replicated a new outfit and got dressed. This whole process was over by 1221. I replicated three gespar and a cup of oolong tea, both of which I consumed by 1225. I made the preparations for the meditation and sat on the mat at exactly 1229, at which time I began my meditation until you audaciously interrupted it." His voice didn't indicate any reprimand, but it was obvious in his words. He also knew that most emotional beings found the extent and detail with which he could engage to be very punitive. In fact, he could have detailed his activities even further, but he was far more curious about the riddle that Avirim had in hand. And tangentially in the man himself and the emotional tangle of his brain. In an absolutely professional way, of course. The risian man was the only non-Vulcan individual that Seren had met with such an overwhelming emotional vortex within him. The fact that he was moderately functional already made him worthy of study.

However, any interest in the emotional catastrophe that lurked in the security officer's brain was put aside the moment he revealed who the victim had been. Trent. Liutenant Trent. Mr. Carrigan Trent. Seren blinked a couple of times, without ever averting his eyes from Inej's face. He had seen the human just a few hours earlier, disregarding his persecutory obsession as illogical and with an important pathological component. His meeting with his savensu to remove the intelligence officer from active duty was due to his level of paranoia that approached a dangerous threshold both for himself and others. That some of that delusion had a real basis was not only surprising, but worrisome. That he had failed in his diagnosis to such an extent was even more disturbing. That he was shot just minutes after their session together was frankly alarming.

"Not a friend, a patient," Seren explained. "I had a meeting with him this very morning. My appointment with the Chief Counsellor was intended to discharge him from duty."
  • Last Edit: December 22, 2019, 03:50:13 PM by Numen
Lt. JG Khorin Douglas [Show/Hide]
Lt. JG. Izar Bila [Show/Hide]
Ensign Seren [Show/Hide]

Re: Day 11 [1345 hrs.] Murder, He Wrote
Reply #5
[ Avi ] Attn: @Numen

'F he weren't on duty, an' if he weren't on murder duty, Avi woulda turned his ears off after the third fuckin' sentence outta Spinach's mouth. Fuckin' Christmas this guy could talk. Was contemplatin' murder hisself as Snot started listin' all the books he'd read; by the time Shithead reached the last book an' still didn't stop talkin', the plan had graduated to murder-suicide.

The kid had gotta know he was bein' a pissy little shit, right? Ain't no one that oblivious, not even a Vulcan with twisty knickers. A Vulcan with twisty knickers an' a pair'a lungs on him like no tomorrow. Was bein' spiteful or somethin', tryna get back at Avi for havin' broken in, right? But then, Slugface was the model of everythin' Vulcan, an' weren't exactly their MO t'start goin' around bein' vindictive. Just stuffy, an' Spoon had demonstrated that partic'lar side of hisself already.

Most impressive thing? All that talkin', an' still not managed t'say a single thing of fuckin' use to no one after the first farting sentence.

Resisted the urge t'punch hisself in his own damn face t'wake up after that rousing pile'a bullshit.

'You know what a fuckin' elevator pitch is or what?' he said. ''Cause that ain't it, son.' Shitting piss, what a waste of time.

Right. Anyways. Had been somethin' relevant in all that damn mess, at least. Sausage Dog had claimed t'leave Vector 2 at 1024 this mornin', well before it'd all kicked off with Cardigan; had checked the fella's story as he was till dronin' on about who the fuck knows what. Seemed legit. Leastways, transporter logs backed it up.

Didn't mean there couldn't be a second fella involved, a'course. Whole thing, meetin' with his boss, conspicuously leavin' the vector, all coulda been planned out t'give him an alibi while his mate snuck round an' did the dirty. Would make sense. Vulcans loved that 4D chess shit.

Watched the bloke's face real careful-like when he gave the vic's name. Needn't have bothered, Squid gave nothin' away more'n a slight twitch. Coulda been a murder twitch, a sad twitch, just an itchy nose twitch, who fuckin' knew.

Didn't peg him for the shooty type, nor even the murder mastermind-y type. But still.

'Yeah, saw the reports, fella went off his rocker after bein' shunted out or some shit.' Prob'ly not standard counselling terminology there. Whatever. 'Sounded like a right wanker, danger t'the ship an' all. Maybe the shooter did us all a favour, yeah? Maybe it weren't such a tragedy after all.' Watched Spaghetti. 'You knew the sod. What d'you think?'

If Spandex had been involved, now was the time t'figure it out. 'Cause otherwise was gonna have t'try an' get the kid t'work with him, an' didn't hardly fancy slippin' up an' gettin' pally with some bloke with an itchy trigger finger an' a moral code straight outta the arse of that other Vulcan fella, the one they all loved so much, fuckin-- Spleen or somethin'. Snorlax. Sriracha. That guy.

Last push. ''F the bloke really was such a problem, can see it bein' logical. Would make sense. Wouldn't even hold it against you -- greater good, yeah?'
  • Last Edit: December 29, 2019, 05:05:17 AM by fiendfall
CPO Morgan Song - Engineering - Chief of Maintenance (V2) [Show/Hide]
Lt Cmdr Hathev - Counselling - Chief Counsellor [Show/Hide]
Ensign Inej 'Avi' Avirim - Security - Investigations Officer [Show/Hide]
Xelia - Civillian - Software Engineer [Show/Hide]

Re: Day 11 [1345 hrs.] Murder, He Wrote
Reply #6
[Ensign Seren |  Seren Personal Quarters | Deck 15 | Vector 1 | USS Theurgy]
[Show/Hide]
att: @fienfall

"Elevator pitch is a brief exposition about an idea, product, company or enterprise that summarizes the basic concepts in a manner that can be easily comprehended in a short period of time," Seren defined mechanically, while he tilted his head toward the opposite shoulder. "However, given the circumstances that surrounded your question and your personal profile, I deemed a lengthy description would be more appropriate." If Seren had been someone who was prone to irrationalities, he would have permitted that one of the corners of his mouth would curl up slightly, the result of a self-sufficiency that, of course, he could not feel. If Avirim had been one of his closest acquaintances, such as Marija, Seren would have allowed a that a little mischievous glint to reach his eyes. But of course the security officer was not in that category, so Seren merely stared him down with a carefully crafted blank expression.

Nevertheless, any contentment Seren might have obtained from the brief exchange was tempered by the disclosure that it had been his patient who had been the casualty of the assault. As expected, the investigator had his own conclusions about such an untoward occurrence, which he rushed to share with Seren. Avirim was in love with his own voice in the vulcan opinion. Yet there was some logic in his words, and he let the security officer was aware of that fact. "Mister Carrigan Trent was, if nothing else, an unstable element among the crew that constituted a menace both to himself and to those who worked in his vicinity. If this vessel were not in an exceptional situation I would certainly have sent him into temporary seclusion in a psychiatric institution, but given our disengagement from Starfleet and the necessity of an Intelligence officer on board I had to take alternative measures and keep him on staff." Seren clarified, indulging in some phrases that could be misinterpreted as a justification for the loss of his patient because of the lack of understanding with which the short-sighted Avirim acted. "His demise undoubtedly remedies the inconvenience associated with his involvement with the crew, but it is not the course of action I would have opted to pursue," he further added. It was a certainty that the disruptive and unpredictable element that Trent embodied had been addressed by his decease. Seren's ever-practical mind couldn't deny that it was a swift solution to the problem he had represented. However, deeply rooted in his core there was the concept that all life was sacred and that his duty was to protect it and serve his fellow crewmembers, both as a therapist and as a Vulcan.

"Although his death has solved the quandary he constituted, I am not gratified with his expiration. Counselor Hathev and I were devising a plan of action to straighten out his behavior that had a 91.547% chance of success if our calculations are accurate. A much more gradual development than murder, but obviously with a less criminal outcome," he said.
Lt. JG Khorin Douglas [Show/Hide]
Lt. JG. Izar Bila [Show/Hide]
Ensign Seren [Show/Hide]

Re: Day 11 [1345 hrs.] Murder, He Wrote
Reply #7
[ Avi ] attn: @Numen

Trust Spork t'go on a damn rant on the meanin' of 'elevator pitch'. Considered clawin' his own face off in frustration.

'Mate, listen, 'f I need a long answer I'll fuckin' ask for one, got it?' The fuck had that 'personal profile' comment been s'pposed t'mean? Spinach diggin' into Avi's file? 'Meantime, save the lecturin' for the Academy, yeah?' Christmas. Payin' attention first time round had been bad enough, didn't hardly need it from this kid too. Spork didn't even fuckin' outrank him, the pissy little git.

Didn't seem t'have a sense of self-preservation, neither. Guy was fuckin' agreein' that Cardigan'd been a right shit, real headache mess, an' that killin' him had fixed a bunch'a problems. Didn't emote or nothin', but Avi fancied he saw a gloatin' little glint in the shit's eye. Motherfucker was enjoyin' this.

Counterargument was flimsy on the surface. 'Killin' the sod weren't ideal' yeah no shit. But then, the flimsiness was kinda persuasive, in its own way. 'F Seren really had been playin' 4D chess, thinkin' seventy steps ahead an' plannin' it out so he got a good little alibi, surely he'd'a foreseen that he'd get questioned over it? An' his only answer was t'make hisself sound suspicious as fuck an' then tack on a 'yeah but murder's bad though' on the end?

Nah.

Had been givin' the sod too much credit. Weren't as smart as all that. Was just some kid what'd gone t'see his boss an' picked a really shitty day t'do it. An' now he was gettin' his jellies off messin' with Avi -- like a wanker, sure, but not like a murder mastermind. Kid weren't that fuckin' smart after all.

'Arright,' he said, pushin' hisself off the wall an' crossin' t'fling onto the bed all comfy-like, lookin' over at Spork. 'So you ain't a murderin' piece of shit. Wanna gimme a hand figurin' out who is?'

Weren't 'xactly protocol, but ain't never let that stop him before. Figured Spork counselled the fella, prob'ly knew 'im as good as anyone. Plus he'd, y'know, been on the boat longer'n, what? Checked the time. Five hours? Fuckin'-- No wonder he was bloody knackered.

Sat cross-legged on the bloke's bed, balancin' his PADD on his knees, scrollin' back through the vic's file. 'So, Cardigan. Never mentioned any threats or nothin'? Enemies? Beyond like, regular post-mutiny shit.' Really threw a wrench in there, that mutiny. Seemed there were three categories'a suspects: mutiny folks, Bell-Air-whatever folks, an' total randomers. Of them lot, the first two were easiest t'identify at least.

Start with the Belly. 'What about this lot off another ship, the one what got blown up? Cardigan was still in charge when that went down, right? Folks pretty pissed? What'd you got on that shitshow?'

Wished he'd seen the damn crime scene. Taken Sec a hot minute t'call him over, scene'd been cleared up by then, deck returned t'normal. Show must go on, or whatever. Notes in the file, sure, all them details, but weren't no substitute for seein' the thing with his own eyes.

Then again... Boat this size gotta have a holosuite, right? Better make that his next stop.

'Well, thanks mate, been a great help,' he said, standin' an' givin' a little stretch. 'Gotta bounce, but 'f I need anythin' else I'll give you a buzz yeah?'

Headed for the door, afore pausing, considerin'. Kid was a right arse, but knew his onions, an' weren't a soul on this tub what'd poked around in the vic's head like Spaghetti had. Spent too long on Earth, forgot how this shit worked -- weren't like the kid was a civvie or nothin', just us Fleeters here.

Might be useful. Certainly quicker t'bring him along an' have 'im if needed than keep shuttlin' back an' forth t'his room every time Avi needed a question answerin'. An' no, he weren't just gonna chat over coms, not over somethin' like this, risk mishearin' -- an' you know it'd be the key piece of info he heard wrong. Nah, nah, ain't about that.

So. In the int'rests of gettin' this wrapped up sharpish so he could go back t'bed: 'Tag along if you want. Might even be useful one day.' And then, also: 'You know where the nearest holosuite is?'
CPO Morgan Song - Engineering - Chief of Maintenance (V2) [Show/Hide]
Lt Cmdr Hathev - Counselling - Chief Counsellor [Show/Hide]
Ensign Inej 'Avi' Avirim - Security - Investigations Officer [Show/Hide]
Xelia - Civillian - Software Engineer [Show/Hide]

Re: Day 11 [1345 hrs.] Murder, He Wrote
Reply #8
[Ensign Seren |  Seren Personal Quarters | Deck 15 | Vector 1 | USS Theurgy]
[Show/Hide]
att: @fienfall

Seren watched as the security officer settled into his bed listlessly. The mild irritation that seemed to accompany each of his interactions with the long-haired man seethed within the young Vulcan, who pressed his lips together loosely. How could he have the nerve to pollute his bed sitting on it and not even ask him about the matter? A perfectly slated Vulcan's eyebrow twitched briefly. That someone so obviously mercurial was able to disturb his perfect facade, albeit imperceptibly, was unacceptable. Not only that, it was inexcusable and absolutely ludicrous. As ludicrous as that, that... that... that frump.

The young counsellor inhaled quietly, as he tried to recover his core balance and concentrate again on Ensign Avirim's rigmarole. The risian seemed focused on his PADD, scrolling indolently through the screen, while at the same timehe sought his viewpoint concerning his former patient and who may have been most interested in his demise. The tiny man seemingly aimed his research at the people involved in the transfer of the command of the starship and at the survivors of the vessel that Trent had destroyed. It certainly was a good start for the investigation, and it showed that the Risian was able to be quite efficient, in spite of its obvious deficiencies in other crucial areas. Seren embraced that fact. He squinted for a second, pondering that question.

Eventually, he raised his gaze to Avi once again, as he tilted his head over his left shoulder. "Liutenant Trent was poorly regarded among the crew. Throughout his time in command he exercised an authoritarian stranglehold over the crew, disregarded the advice of other officers and assessors more experienced than himself, and his decisions resulted in countless casualties and wounded. If we include the fact that his decisions during the time the Captain was abducted on the Versant have been compromised by his romantic involvement with another abductee, we can safely conclude that the vast majority of the crew members who served on Vector 1 have some degree of animosity against him. Adding to this the Bellerophon castaways, potentially unidentified Devoted of Morali and individuals who hold personal grievances against the demised, the number of suspects reaches one hundred and seventy-six, with a range of error of plus minus thirteen, given the scarce data I possess". Elucidate Seren.

"However," he further added, folding his hands in his lap with his head tipped to the other side. "Both Trent's training and his own paranoia kept him on a constant state of alert regarding those he considered his enemies... And he deemed as foes anyone who did not agree unquestionably with his commands and judgments. I suggest that we exclude most of those who were directly involved in his degradation," he continued, eschewing the term 'munity'. According to the incident records he had read, and despite the strenuous effort that Trent had made during their sessions to label the change of ship's master as such, Seren had to agree that his discharge had been necessary after a record of incompetent and reckless leadership. "Whoever was his aggressor must have gone under his oversurveillance radar. It must have been someone he either had no direct acquaintance with, or that he deemed unthreatening. I think you should focus on crew members of junior officer rank or below, someone in a position that makes them easy to overlook but who could have access to his movement patterns, either by direct survey or through the vessel's computer, and not trigger any suspicion." He offered.

Avirim, surprisingly, was grateful for his aperçu about the suspects as he stood up sluggishly, stretching his muscles. Only then did Seren realize that the security officer was as fatigued as he was. Much more so, in fact, due to his deficient non-vulcanoid morphology, which required deeper and more prolonged periods of rest.  Certainly, the Risian would not only appreciate his help, but obviously needed it. So, when he invited him to volunteer as a research assistant, the young Vulcan did not hesitate a second, and rose to his feet in a hurry that verged on being marginally inappropriate. It certainly wasn't that he was looking forward to joining an investigation that was worthy of his favorite novels, but that the risian actually PRECISED his assistance. Moreover, it was his duty as a therapist to find out whether his decisions regarding his patient had been conducive to his demise. That was his duty.

Thus, after covering his feet with his vulcan soft boots, Seren stepped up to Avirim and explained. "Holodecks one and two are on deck eight in vector two, we can reach them easily from the transporter room you has used to come here." Seren wriggled through the door frame, making an obvious effort to avoid any contact with Avi, and as soon as he reached the corridor, he steered his footsteps to the nearest turbolift. As he recalled the overwhelming experience of brushing Avirim's skin, the Vulcan's fingers twitched. Seren endeavored to conceal that embarrassing tremor in the depths of his wide sleeves.
  • Last Edit: January 13, 2020, 09:21:57 PM by Numen
Lt. JG Khorin Douglas [Show/Hide]
Lt. JG. Izar Bila [Show/Hide]
Ensign Seren [Show/Hide]