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Topic: Day 11 [1345 hrs.] Murder, He Wrote (Read 251 times) previous topic - next topic

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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]
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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]

Re: Day 11 [1345 hrs.] Murder, He Wrote
Reply #9
[ Avi ]Attn: @Numen

Knew Spork would be all grapes over Avi darin' t'touch his stuff even without lookin up from his PADD. Hey, weren't his fault Spaghetti ain't got no fuckin' chairs in here, an' he weren't gonna start sittin' on the floor with a perfectly good bed right there. Sourpuss was just gonna have t'get over hisself. Still, was honestly half-surprised when the fella didn't kick him out then and there.

True t'form, Spinach just got his revenge by launchin' into another bloody lecture. Avi half considered not botherin' t'look up, 'cept it seemed this time the guy was actually sayin' stuff what was half useful. Damn, gotta pay attention then. Was depressin' as all shite, truth be -- fuckin' two hundred suspects? Gonna be at it all fuckin' week. Cardigan had t'be unpopular, just t'make Avi's job harder. Christmas.

Still, could have a looksee, cross-reference with the log of badges on the deck at the time of Cardy's death. Weren't holdin' out much hope -- prob'ly a false lead, t'be honest, might get a million pings back, an' more likely the shooter took theirs off afore they went a-murderin'. Computer didn't hardly do bio scans t'find folks unless it was asked for, murderer woulda been invisible. Worth a shot, though. Never knew when somethin' was gonna be useful later.

'You able t'send me that list? Like to take a gander.'

Kid's theory that the mutineers weren't involved was interestin'. Weren't gonna go disregardin' 'em on Spot's word alone, but still. Would make sense, yeah, them mutineers got what they wanted. No need t'kick a man when he's down. Was awkward, sure, havin' the fella still around, but jumpin' from 'awkward' to 'murderous' was a pretty big fuckin' stretch. Nah. Murder like this? Gotta be personal. Gotta be someone what felt justice weren't served, needed t'do it 'emselves, or what felt the guy hisself was threatenin' directly. Weren't much else'd drive a Fed to killin'. 'Course, 'pparently was a bunch'a non-Feds on this tub, but Avi'd got enough fuckin' suspects for one day, weren't gonna start widenin' the net just yet.

Honestly? Woulda just pegged it for one of them lot of the Belly, 'cept for one thing: they'd all been fuckin' brain-checked just the other week, no flags, no nothin'. Shooter just fake their way through or what? Knew it could be done, obviously, but still. He'd had teachin'.

Considerin' he had a counsellor on tap, could always look into that angle in a tick. 'Cause don't look now, but Spork was actually bein' useful, sayin' shit about needin' t'be someone what looked non-threatenin'. Junior ranks seemed like a good shout, Management folks never noticed 'em. Spinach speakin' sense for once.

Unless it was a mate of Cardigan's, a-course. Someone what he'd not see a blow comin' from. Christmas, his fuckin' head hurt. Ev'ry time he thought he'd narrowed somethin' down it ballooned open again.

Back t'the beginnin', then. Crime scene. Holodeck. Let's go. Up we get.

Took him a bit t'stand, hadn't realised how bloody comfy the bed was, how fuckin' knackered he was. Mate. Was gonna need t'sleep for a week after this bullshit. 'Run halfway across the quadrant!' Andy said, 'Break out a captain from jail!' Andy said, 'You can rest when you get to Aldea!' Andy said. Fuck off.

Least those pirates'd been good enough t'let him get some shuteye.

An' yeah, maybe Spork could be useful. Ain't been the worst so far. Pretty close, but not all the way there. An' Vulcans was smart folks, two heads better'n one, all that jazz. Sooner this was done, sooner he could sleep.

Also gettin' justice or whatever.

Invited the kid along, an' Spinach seemed mighty eager t'help out, bless his cottons. Bleedin' Heart Steve over here. Hey, for once he weren't even complainin'. Waited for Spork t'get his shoes on or whatever, an' then set out t'leave. Had t'pause for a second in the doorway all amused-like as Spaghetti did his best impression of some kinda treeworm, all wriggly. The fuck? Oh wait, yeah. First time the bloke had touched him, Avi'd nearly dislocated his wrist for his trouble. Fair enough he'd be leery of goin' for Round Two.

Followed the kid down the hallway, into a turbolift. Leant up on the wall b'side him, half-watchin' the bloke. Kinda curious, truth be. Vulcan counsellors weren't hardly dime a dozen, an' this one'd been on Mrs Theurgy from afore it went bonkers or whatever. Gotta be some stories there. Leastways, 'f the crew was full'a murderin' bastards, would be decent t'get a heads up over it.

'You, uh, holdin' up arright? After that little adventure an' all.' Caught himself fiddlin' with his hair all absent-like, crossed his arms t'stop. Gettin' t'the 'twitchy' stage'a tiredness are we, Avi? Good t'know. ''Course, bet that ain't nothin' t'what y'all are used to out here.'
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 #10
[Ensign Seren | Seren Personal Quarters | Deck 15 | Vector 1 | Uss Theurgy  >> Holodeck 2 | Deck 8 | Vector 2  | Uss Theurgy ]
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att: @fienfall


Seren stretched out his hand to his left as they moved down the corridor. The shorter man soon took the hint and handed him the padd he was carrying. It didn't take long before the Vulcan accessed the crew roster and, after a brief research, discarded a few unlikely suspects and added a dozen probable ones that didn't appear on the initial pool, then, he started to put together a document with the suspects. By the time his steps had left him in front of the turbolift, he had succeeded in drafting the complete document with the initial one hundred and seventy-six names and ranks.


When the lift opened its doors in front of them, Seren stepped quietly into the transport, mumbling about the deck they were heading for. After an attentive proofread, he finally peeled his nose off the small screen and handed the device back to Avi, taking special care not to touch the skin of the security officer under any circumstances.


The counselor stared in front of him and folded his hands behind his back, ready to spend the rest of the ride in a comfortable silence when Avi spoke. Remarkably to ask him about how he felt. The young Vulcan blinked a couple of times before turning around to observe the Risian... whom he found fiddling absently with his long hair. Curiously, Seren noticed how some blush had started to green his cheeks and he averted his eyes as he struggled to regain his composure... and discover the motif of such slipt in his self-control.


"My physical condition is satisfactory for the performance of my duties," he replied in a monochord tone as he pierced the turbolift door with his glare. 2.13 seconds later he bowed his head slightly over his right shoulder before he proceeded to add. "However, I think it would be optimum if I could afford a full cycle of meditation and rest." Emotional beings valued empathy, and certainly Seren was tired as well, although his genetics allowed him to cope with it more gracefully; as much as his upbringing prevented him from admitting his fatigue in a more obvious way.


Avi added a remark about how someone from the Theurgy's crew would be used to misfortunes, and the Vulcan rotated to face the security officer anew, collected this time, to refute his statement. "In fact, I was injured during one of the first skirmishes following the ship's departure from the Sun System, stardate 57390.76." He admitted just before the doors opened before them, letting them walk down the short corridor that led to the transporter room. "Given the extent of my injuries the medical team deemed necessary that I remained in cryostasis until stardate 57558.73." Seren frowned briefly before he resumed his speech. "My knowledge of most of the events that unfolded during the Theurgy's flight has been derived from reports. I must point out that I find some of the crew's behavior during that period quite concerning," he stated just before they entered into the room and stood on the transporter pad.

A few brief instructions to the officer behind the console resulted in both ensigns being transported to another vector, just a short walk from the holodeck.
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 #11
[ Avi ] Attn: @Numen

Peered over Staple's shoulder best he could, watchin' whatever the kid was doin' on Avi's PADD. Didn't gotta wait too long, had it back on him soon enough, lookin' through the list what the bloke'd made. Didn't recognise none, but ain't never been known for bein' good with names, always had a memory on 'im more shite than use. Still. Somewhere to start. Couldn't go relyin' on it none, barely knew Spinach from Adam, weren't about t'go all doughy an' start believin' everythin' what the kid said, but still. Better'n two hundred fartin' suspects, that's for fuckin' sure.

Problems for later. Leant against the wall of the turbolift, watchin' the kid opposite. Weird fuckin' bloke. Had known other Vulcans, a'course, plenty of 'em in Starfleet, in Intel even -- though mostly analysts over there -- so kinda knew what to expect. But this fella was like 'f you took a fuckin' stereotype of a Vulcan an' made it so ridiculous it'd never really exist, an' then made it real after all. Spoke like a bloody android, standin' like a statue an' all. An' no judgement neither, pricks were pricks whatever species they was, weren't hardly limited t'just one group or nothin'. Was just interestin' t'see.

Kid clearly weren't no fan of Avi, that was plain as fuckin' pie. Stood starin' at the door like he was desperate t'leave, alternatin' prissy lectures an' mechanical answers. An' still standin' far away as possible. Weren't no skin off his back, hardly expected t'be best buds or nothin'. Still, made it curious the lad'd agreed t'tag along, an' so sharpish too. Kid fancy hisself a detective or what?

Bloke's next words managed to surprise him. Seren'd been fucked up so bad he'd been put in cryo? Checked the date in his head, fuckin'-- kid only got out ten bloody days ago, Christmas. Looked the kid over with new eyes, 'cause mate. Takes a lot to fuck someone up bad enough they gotta get put in stasis. Had kinda pegged the bloke for someone what'd come straight outta the Academy, still green as all shite, barely seen nothin', done nothin', certainly ain't never had somethin' done to 'em.

Well. Know what they say about not judgin' books an' shit. Misread that one.

Let out a low whistle. 'That bad huh? Y'all must'a had a party up in here.' Followed the kid down the corridor, lookin' over at him kinda askance. Concernin' behaviour from the crew? Now why didn't that fuckin' surprise him. What about this whole shitshow ain't concerning? 'Can't say I know much about none of it meself. Sent over pretty much blind, ain't been told much'a nothin', truth be.' Just jammy, this whole garbage sitch.

Reached the transporter room, nipped over to wherever the fuck it was they was off to -- Vector 2 or somethin'? Deck who-the-fuck-knows -- an' followed Spinach the two feet down the corridor to a holodeck. Brilliant, finally, thank fuck.

Ain't never been too hot on computers, didn't trust hisself not to start blowin' shit up 'f he tried to program it hisself. So fuck that. Time t'try out the only thing he actually did know about the ship: its lady-computer, whats-her-face, name based on the boat, fuckin'-- Thea, that was it. The chick what was smarter'n the sun an' could do anythin' ever. Her.

No idea how to fuckin' speak to her, figured she was listenin' already or? Something? Tried hailin', tapped his badge. 'Uh, Thea? You, uh, fancy givin' us a hand over here? Tryna get that crime scene up an' runnin' in the holodeck or whatever. Give us a walkthrough?' Sure, that was prob'ly how you was supposed t'do it right? Close enough.
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 #12
[ USS Theurgy "Thea" NX-79854 | Holodeck 02 | Deck 08 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @fiendfall @Numen  
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When summoned, Thea's projection shimmered and appeared before the two male crewmen, one Vulcan and one Risian. Ensigns Seren and Inej Avirim, of Counselling and Security respectively. Thea greeted them with a passing smile and an inclination of her head hands folded behind her back. Given the task at hand, she was wearing the golden colour of Security on her chameleon body suit, and given what had happened, it was hardly the time for any overt pleasantries and commentary. An officer had been murdered aboard, and since it had been timed with her maintenance cycle, she was very concerned, not able to tell who the guilty person was. Social convention for this kind of event had her follow the Investigation Officer's request immediately.

"Yes, Ensign," she said, and turned from them. While she did, the holodeck assumed the appearance of the corridor in which it happened based on all the available data she had. Since her maintenance cycle had prevented identification through internal sensors and combadge recognition, the people in the corridor were mere shadow outlines of people, representing the lifesigns she'd placed and determined to be moving through the corridor at the time. The only bodily frame in the corrior with colour and features was the victim, Lieutenant Carrigan Trent.

"Prior to 1047 hrs, the victim was on the way to preform his duties," she stated flatly, and she made the figures and Trent move in an assumed direction. "The first thing that is evident, is how Trent was found lying in the opposite direction from which he was heading. Furthermore, the phaser bolt he sustained entered through his back. This suggests that the victim changed his heading prior to being murdered. While not completely certain, it could be assumed that the victim saw the murderer, spoke with him, or merely saw his weapon, and decided to try and run away back whence he came."

Thea turned the hands of time forward a bit, and she showed Trent lying as he had been found, with the gaping hole in the middle of his back - smoke rising from the crater made in both uniform and flesh. The murderer, as it were, stood there too, with a pulse phase pistol in hand, assumed shooting from his hip to not draw the kind of attention that would let witnesses be sure he'd been the one to shoot. The murderer in the present reenactment was a mere shadow outline as well - as dark and featureless as the other digital representations in the corridor.

"Medical scans indicate that death was near instantaneous, for the directed energy bolt didn't just sever the spine, it also compromised the heart and lungs inside the chest," said Thea, and in her background tasks, she found herself reviewing something in her memory banks that she didn't enjoy devoting processing power for. It was an event after Carrigan Trent came aboard, and advocated destroying Cala - her daughter - rather than trying to restore her ethical subroutines. At the time, it had been unknown whether or not that was all the Infested had done to Cala in order to make her comply with the mission to destroy the Harbinger and the Theurgy. Trent had argued that Cala might as well have been built for her task from the ground up, making the task of converting from the loyalty to the Infested impossible.

The truth of the matter was still unknown, and as biased as Thea knew herself to be... she couldn't help but think that Trent had made Ives listen to caution and the needs of the mission... rather than recognising the other option.

Lin Kae had tried to help her argue her case as well, to no avail, Trent's argument winning out. Instead she and Lin Kae had taken matters into their own hands, trying to reach Cala with the Reaver - Cinsaj - before the end of the battle with the Calamity. Thea hadn't been able to get aboard Cala, so that she might try and reset her to fabrication protocols, before her daughter had been destroyed. She'd been forced to return to her own hull with the Reaver, never knowing if there was any hope for Cala.

Looking at the holo-image of Trent lying there in the corridor... it made Thea conflicted about her feelings.

Re: Day 11 [1345 hrs.] Murder, He Wrote
Reply #13
[Ensign Seren | Seren Personal Quarters | Deck 15 | Vector 1 | Uss Theurgy  >> Holodeck 2 | Deck 8 | Vector 2  | Uss Theurgy ]
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att: @fienfall

'That bad huh? And 'all must'a had a party up in here.' Although Seren did not share Avirim's predilection for describing the circumstances in which the ship had been involved in such an impractical manner, the Vulcan couldn't help but nod in agreement with his general description of the events. As if the phrase of his companion had invoked him, the usual discomfort produced by his synthetic skin reared up again, and Seren tilted his head back and forth to relieve it. As he did so, the hexagonal tessellation on his neck cracked artificially, and the top of his robe slipped slightly, exposing part of the surface of the wound.

' Can't say I know much about none of it meself. Sent over pretty much blind, ain't been told much'a nothin', truth be.' Seren blinked a couple of times at such a statement. Despite...the overall negiable virtues of the Risian, that he would have embarked on such a mission as helping the Theurgy said much about his loyalty, his devotion to the Fleet and his capacity for sacrifice. Virtues that I did not expect to find in the tiny security officer. "Paraphrasing one of my acquaintances," replied Seren, recalling the colorful prose of the human who shared department with Inej and her fondness for an unacademic use of language. "Welcome to the shitshow."

The two men arrived at the holodeck shortly thereafter and, without further ado, Avi summoned the ship's AI and requested a replay of the crime scene. Thea diligently materialized in the room, gold necklace adorning her digital catsuit, matching the nature of the reconstruction that had brought them together there. The sentient hologram began to explain the known details of the crime, information that Avi may have known but that Seren was completely unaware of. The crime unfolded slowly before his eyes, mere shadows and conjecture still. A puzzle waiting to be solved. Just a complex riddle.

One thing struck the Vulcan powerfully: the position in which Trent had died. Seren stood in his tracks, trying to study his last movements according to what he knew of the man.

"Trent turned his back on his attacker." He mused about the holographic representation of the corpse. "Lieutenant Trent would not have fled from an enemy who faced him face to face, he had too high an opinion of himself to do so." Seren took a few steps forward, positioned himself about three feet from the shadow of the assassin. He remained there for a few moments, varying his stance for a time before turning around with great strides. In doing so, he remained a short distance from where Trent's holographic body lay.

"I think he was talking to his killer. Perhaps an insubstantial conversation. Or maybe a conversation he wanted to get out of rather quickly, and he turned away from something that was said in it, something that motivated him enough to change his routine or he simply turned away from his attacker in the middle of the conversation, with no intention of leaving." Seren was not sure what the real choice was, due to the slight variation between the position he had ended up in when making the gesture and that of the former intelligence officer's corpse.

However, there was one important variable to consider: Seren was substantially shorter than the late Trent had been. The Vulcan pursed his lips minutely before requesting. "Thea, reproduce the movement I just performed with one of Lieutenant Trent's physical parameters to obtain the initial position he was in prior to the weapon's strike." Seren intended to reconstruct Trent's last moments in reverse, trying to figure out how the crime had occurred.
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 #14
[ Avi ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Numen

Had t'huff a laugh at Spork swearin' -- another one for the list'a things he hadn't expected of the bloke. Kid seemed t'swing from a tightarse Vulcan, with his fuckin' lectures an' shit, to bein' almost half decent sometimes. Couple'a surprises up his floppy sleeves, that was for sure. Weren't gonna catch Avi complainin' though. Would definitely take 'surprising' over 'boring', any day'a the fuckin' week.

Reached the holodeck, summoned the ship's AI. Was right glad he didn't hardly make an arse outta hisself tryna do it neither, worked a charm first try. Had worked with AI holos some already, though them basic server holos in Tirei prob'ly didn't half compare to whatever future Fed tech this boat was decked out with.

Thea appeared on command, phasin' into existence an' lookin' every bit alive, like a proper person an' all. Was almost creepy. Uncanny. Real, but not. Weird. Got slightly easier when she spoke up, all flat-like. Still sounded more real'n he was rightly used to -- more Vulcan than computer -- but it'd do.

She was obligin', at least, settin' up the holodeck all nice-like for 'em, re-creatin' two snapshots: one just before the murder, an' one with the scene as it was when folks found it, nothin' but a hazy shadow t'represent the killer. Hip shot? Thea workin' off evidence on that one or makin' an assumption? Weren't a bad one t'make, an' didn't hardly matter either way, but would rather be in the loop if folks were gonna start gettin' creative.

Her description of the COD was definitely factual, though, knew as much from the reports he'd been sent. Quick way to go, at least. Painless, as things went. That deliberate?

Walked around the scene some, gettin' angles on it. Crouched by the body. Singe marks on the lower back larger'n he'd expected. Killer must'a been at pretty close range t'make that much of a mess.

Weird. Clean kill, quick, single shot where it counted. Killed at a personal range, close up, friendly. But no fuckin' cleanup after, just left on the deck. What, killer spook at somethin'? Corridor'd hardly been a main thoroughfare but weren't no back alley neither, maybe killer get antsy someone was comin' their way? Weren't no witnesses -- none what were talkin' anyways, though didn't hardly have the greatest faith in the Sec lads here bein' able t'sniff a lie -- so what? Somethin' Trent said?

Nodded along t'what Spaghetti was sayin'. Yeah, looked like Cardigan got real pally with his killer afore the deed was done. Watched as the kid re-enacted a movement, instructin' Thea to map it onto Trent. Little bit of roleplay, huh? Cute.

Thea dutifully reversed Spork's action, endin' up with an image of Cardigan standin' facin' the hazy image of the killer. Sure, seemed possible. Walked around the scene again, scrutinisin'.

''S too far away,' he said, thinkin'. 'Get the killer in closer.' Thea, obligin' as ever, movin' the killer in so Trent weren't hardly an arm's length from 'em. 'Yeah, that's better. Try gettin' a read on the killer's height from this, T, see what you can do.' Might be able t'narrow it down some at least. Fingers crossed they was either giant or tiny, give 'em at least a clue what kinda species they was lookin' for. Though with his luck they'd prob'ly be Human, smack dab in the middle an' common as they come.

Lookin' over at Spinach now. 'Said Cardy wouldn't'a turned his back on an enemy, right? So our killer don't look like one. Don't pull a weapon 'till Trent's turned away. Gets up in his back, phaser t'the spine, quick shot. An' what, leaves him?'

Unprofessional. Weren't hardly a hit. Someone with enough trainin' t'know roughly what they was doin' -- so, mostly anyone in the Fleet -- but not enough t'have the sense t'clean up afterwards. Or maybe just the time. But again, no fuckin' witnesses, body hadn't been found for a good few minutes after the kill, so maybe was just the sense their killer was lackin'. Or the nerve. Same difference.

Hadn't pulled a weapon 'till Trent turned away, but must'a drawn an' shot pretty fuckin' close together. Had the kill been impulsive? Trent says somethin' the killer don't like, turns away, conversation ended, an' the killer snaps? Was clearly premeditated -- ain't no one goin' around with a phaser calibrated t'kill unless they was plannin' somethin', an' didn't seem the killer'd had time t'go fiddlin' with settings in the heat'a the moment -- but the details was too fuckin' sloppy t'be part of the killer's plan, surely. Killer'd wanted more time with Trent, or wanted more from the guy, or somethin'. Had maybe even wanted t'give the guy a way out -- 'magically know the right thing t'say an' I won't splat you' or whatever. But Trent ain't magic, so don't say the right thing, pisses off the killer, an' they draw an' shoot swift-like afore realisin', shit, time t'go. Pullin' a weapon so late was a weird move otherwise.

Killer'd known there was a likelihood they might be splattin' the guy, though. Had been planned enough t'coincide with the fuckin' maintenance cycle.

Actually, speakin' of... 'This maintenance cycle,' said, turnin' t'Thea, 'who woulda known? We lookin' for someone in Ops or Engineering or the whole boat clued in?' Shoulda asked this fuckin' question bloody hours ago, 'cept he was runnin' on nothin' but fumes an' spite at this point so fuck him 'f his brain weren't in tip top shape. Needed a stiff drink an' twelve hours sleep but neither thing was happenin' till they caught this fucker so onwards an' upwards or whatever, get this shite over with.
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]