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Pendleton thanks Rangin, uploads the DNA information and prepares to crosscheck it with the Anubis criminal database. He bids farewell to Collins.
Things are otherwise quiet on the Bridge for Lt. Onn.
In Sickbay, Kylah does not stir. Her biosigns are strong, she is resting comfortably and she seems, so far at least, to be making a good recovery. Dr. T'Var knows (although Graham and St. Croix do not) that there were no indications of a sexual assault against her.
Graham isn't thrilled by Collin's order, but he concludes it's better to suck it up than debate it, especially since it seems as if she might be in a bad mood. Shouldn't push my luck..."if-you-don't-want-to-be-in-charge-here,-it'll-be-Rangin, follow his orders...
At least the investigative team would be guaranteed to be punctual, in that case, he thinks.
"OK," he says, in part to St.Croix and in part to himself or anyone in the vicinity. "We have some DNA. We also have what appears to be involuntary transport...how rare is that here? Is there any law enforcement monitoring or a logging of transporter activity by private parties we could access?"
He realizes there are two loose ends: one, the...nature...of the assault, which he should probably just ask Collins to determine when she gets back onboard, and the whole "getting off planet" thing. Why? Or was that bartender just completely full of shit?
Graham pulls his thoughts together and then actually speaks directly to St. Croix. "Actually, seriously now, multiple perps, high-risk target, access to a transporter, clear plan for a place to drop and...dump...the victim...why don't you take the lead on seeing if there are any similar cases the locals are aware of that fit this profile?"
Pendleton comes over to talk to Graham and St. Croix. "I'm not aware of any cases like that around here. This is a pretty quiet town. Things might be different in Thoth, though."
As soon as Rangin is ready, Collins will call the ship for transport.
Rangin stares back into the darkness inside the cool building wondering just what happened in the few minutes since he left or if she had planned it before and he had just been too blind to notice. It was more appropriate than he cares to think about, the broken communicator, the broken zither, the struggle between people.
He shakes his head wondering why he is bothering, it wasn't his actions that led to this, Kylah did this to herself. The only thing he is wondering is whether to even consider trying any further or is it going to be one disaster after another. In the short time he had known her, she had racked up quite the set of issues.
However, there is one thing he is going to do, because he would do it for anyone. He raises the tricorder one last time and makes sure he has captured the location of everything, most importantly the few pieces of zither still lying around before heading back outside. Adding several notes to it and especially about the zither, Rangin requests the pieces be returned once Hathor LEO have finished with any evidence there as they are of great personal value to the person they belonged to. Please.
Finally he walks outside to the group and up to Officer Pendleton. "Just a few extra notes for the case," he says calmly and passes the extra details across.
Turning to Collins, he looks at her squarely "Ready to leave!" he confirms with a nod.
Pendleton says, "Thank you. Got it."
The Security officer flips open her communicator. "Collins to Yorktown. Two to beam up." In moments, she and Rangin have disappeared into the transporter beam. After the usual momentary disorientation, their vision clears to show them standing in Transporter Room 1.
Making an assumption as to Rangin's destination, Collins says "Tell Kylah I'll be in to see how she's doing after I check in with the BCDO." She then heads to the Bridge.
Shaking his head as Collins leaves, Rangin thumbs the communicator on the wall deciding to see what state Kylah is in before making any decisions.
"Ens. Rangin to Sickbay. Please could you let me know what Ens. Kylah's current condition is? Thank you."
The Sickbay duty nurse answers, "She's recovering nicely, Mr. Rangin. You're welcome to visit, if you wish."
Collins is just one short turbolift ride away from the Bridge. She steps through the two red doors to see Lt. Onn, the Sidonian helmswoman, in the big chair. The beautiful, sunlit arc of Anubis fills the main viewscreen.
"Lieutenant Collins reporting, Sir," Jeremi says after she moves down the few steps to stand next to and facing the big chair. She then recounts to Lt. Onn all that transpired, closing with "Officer Pendleton of the Hathor Constabulary will work with Graham on the investigation."
Nia nearly does a double-take when she sees Collins on the Bridge, not five minutes after speaking with her down on the planet. She listens while the younger woman gives her account and finishes her report.
"I see," she says slowly. "Thank you, Mr. Collins. I would have appreciated your telling me that you were going to leave the planet before you did so, but I understand that you're probably particularly anxious to do the interview yourself, since the victim is your roommate."
She lowers her voice so that only Collins can hear. "Nevertheless, keep in mind that a team leader should generally stay with her crew and be the last to return to safety, rather than the first. Okay? When possible, stay on the ground and delegate shipboard tasks to your subordinates." She smiles briefly. "I know it seems antithetical, given that rank is supposed to have privileges, but trust me, this is the way to encourage crew loyalty."
Nia dismisses the officer, deciding to save the rest of the lecture that pops into her mind. Collins certainly couldn't help the health issue that cut her last mission short. But Nia remembers the reports from the Sakathian mission, and Collins's decision to board the shuttle and abandon her crew to the violent zombies still rankles. The woman seems to think team leaders are supposed to get the cushiest assignments, rather than the hardest ones. As a pilot, Nia knows that's not how you build loyalty among your crew.
Well, she's still young. She'll either mend her ways when her evaluations prove that people don't want to serve under her, or she'll end up behind a desk wondering what went wrong.
"Ens. Kylah is already awake and seeing visitors? That is good news indeed." Rangin cannot help but feel relief that Kylah's injuries have already been healed. Especially with Collins on her way.
"If that is the case, would you mind asking her if she is okay with me coming to see her?" Rangin politely enquiries given the argument they had had.
"Yes, sir," Collins replies a little sheepishly. "Permission to talk with Ensign Kylah in order to continue the investigation?"
"Of course, if she's awake and up to it," Nia says. "If not, Doctors Villa or T'Var might have some useful evidence. Maybe more DNA--any hair she pulled out or skin beneath her fingernails, if she fought them--or... or anything else," she finishes delicately.
"Thank you, Sir." Collins enters the turbo lift and tells it to head for Sick Bay.
The duty nurse says, "No, I think she's still unconscious, but she already has one visitor, and I'm sure another wouldn't go amiss."
Collins arrives in Sickbay to learn the same.
"Thanks, I can wait until she has woken up and she feels more refreshed. However, I believe Lt. JG Collins is on her way to talk to her about the events that just occurred. Rangin out."
He leans against the wall, wondering what to do next. Kylah is still recovering and he is fairly certain that he is the last person she would want to see on waking up. He isn't planetside any more, Graham was in charge so it is the last place he wants to be and besides there is little further he could do to assist down there. Just let Security get on and handle it, his part is over unless Graham decides he wants to have another bullying rant at him. everything now was just a waiting game: for Kylah to recover, for her attackers to be caught, for whatever reason they have come to Anubis for to unfold, for Rangin to talk to Kylah when she had recovered.
Until then, nothing left to do but go back on watch. He presses the intercom again and calls Lt. Cmdr. Roble to confirm he is back on the Yorktown and where to report to next. Bridge duty, the continuation of the journal exercise Rangin is running through or something else?
Graham rubs his head. "Fair enough," he says in reply to the local constable. "Thoth is our starting point anyway."
He assumes he still has, in addition to St. Croix, Jones, Rawlings, and Kjaerstad planet side. But he broadcasts on a Starfleet channel to personnel on the ground to sound off with status and location.
Forward momentum, he thinks. He's worried they are flying blind to some extent until someone can interview Ens. Kylah. But that's not under his control, so he decides, assuming personnel are available:
St. Croix and Kjaerstad will assess and canvas the warehouse area, taking full readings and interviewing who they can, with Pendleton's assistance. Whatever Rangin's issues are, he's probably a competent tricorder jockey, but why take the chance?
Jones is to interact with the Thoth constabulary directly on finding any patterns of prior incidents that fit this case-from two angles, one, strong-arm robbery, the other sexual assault.
Rawlings is to meet Graham back at the bar in Thoth. I don't have solid evidence that the bar tender was yanking my chain, he thinks. But I don't have many other levers to push, either. So, bar keep, you're the lucky winner...
"Welcome back, Mr. Rangin," Roble says. "Report to the Captain in Cargo Bay 4, if you please."
Graham is in command of St. Croix and three other Security personnel, Spec/1 Fox and Crewmen Harbaoui and Wallach, in Hathor. Jones, Rawlings and Kjaerstad are on the Yorktown, but soon beam back down in response to Graham's call. He may call for further reinforcements if necessary.
St. Croix and Kjaerstad find the entire warehouse area - ten buildings in all, of various sizes - to be empty and run-down. Further tricorder scans come up empty. There is a nearby residential area which is clearly not the finest on the planet. Nobody there seems to have seen or heard anything of use. Ofcr. Pendleton appears to have a good rapport with the locals, St. Croix tells Graham in making her report.
Jones is passed up the Thoth Constabulary chain of command from Sgt. Marcucci to Det. Velgee Lunnd of the Major Crimes Unit. Lunnd says that visiting spacers are occasionally preyed upon by the less savory elements of Thoth society. There have been several cases in recent months in which an unlicensed transporter was used to move someone to an isolated location to be robbed, Jones tells Graham. There are no reports of this technique being used for sexual assault. Police have a few leads but nothing firm.
Graham and Rawlings beam back to Ysobel's. The Bolian bartender is still there. Two other bartenders are helping him, along with several waiters and waitresses. The place has filled up even more. There are now several dozen people there; it is noisy and crowded. It is early evening, local time.
Collins sits next to Kylah's bed and tries to compose her thoughts. In the back of her mind, she knows Fujishiro is also here in Sick Bay, still in a coma and with an unknown, but currently unpleasant, future. She looks around the room to see where Fujishiro's bed is. Was it my fault? If I had stayed on the station and sent the others away, that could be me in a coma. But Onn was right. I shouldn't have run when I did. But I didn't run. I volunteered to try a potentially dangerous transport. A leader can't ask her team to do something she's not willing to do. Kirk always went first. And he's a great captain! Her mood shifts from pensive to defensive to guilt-ridden to defiant very quickly.
Dr. T'Var, who had stepped away briefly from Kylah's bedside, returns. She notices Collins's expression at once and asks, "How are you, Mr. Collins?"
"What?" Collins was a bit startled hearing someone else's voice. "Oh, yes, fine. Just thinking. When do you think Kylah will wake up?" Then as an afterthought, "and how is Fujishiro doing?"
"I am certain Ensign Kylah will regain consciousness when her body and mind are ready," T'Var answers. The doctor pauses a moment. "Mr. Fujishiro's condition has not changed. To be honest, I am doubtful that it ever will."
Rangin's demeanour brightens when he hears what Lt. Cmdr. Roble asks. "Thank you sir, understood. I'm on my way."
At least finding out why they had come to Anubis would be able to keep his mind occupied for a while and him out of trouble. Collins and Graham might find it a little difficult to get hold of him, which is a bonus as far as Rangin is concerned.
Heading out of the transporter room Rangin strides quickly for the turbolift to take him to the cargo bay to see what awaits.
In Cargo Bay 4, Rangin finds the Captain and Chief Engineer talking to three Gnalish civilians and two Humans in Starfleet uniform. They are gathered around what he recognizes as a starship primary sensor module, steel-gray, roughly cubical and three meters on a side. "Ah, Mr. Rangin," the Captain says. "Good. Come meet Dr. Brold and the others. Dr. Brold, may I introduce Ens. Velir Rangin, my xenobiologist?"
The greenish-gray reptilian - Rangin guesses male, although he can't be sure - holds out a clawed hand and Rangin gingerly shakes it. In a raspy voice, Dr. Brold says, "Welcome, Ensign. I have heard good things about you, and hope you will be able to help us. These are my assistants," he gestures to the other two Gnalish, "Veled and Yold." They nod politely.
"And our Starfleet friends," Dr. Brold continues, seeming to place a slightly odd emphasis on that last word, "Lt. Kalpana Patel and Ens. Darren Zweller." They also step forward to shake hands. She is a thin, serious-faced Indian woman; he is younger, reddish-haired and handsome in a slightly vulpine way. Both are in Engineering red, and Zweller holds a tricorder.
The only Gnalish we've seen before: http://en.memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Sord
"I'm sorry about Fujishiro, Doctor." Collins says quietly. "I hope you can find something, somewhere, to help her." She stands up and starts to leave. "Will you please let me know when Ensign Kylah wakes up?"
With Graham now apparently in charge of the planetside team, Nia sends him a quick message by text--not wanting to interrupt him if he's in the middle of an interview:
GRAHAM, ENS. BOOKER: I'm still at the Conn, so as I told Collins, if you need any more backup--feet on the ground or brainiacs up here doing research--just ask. FYI, Kylah stable but still not awake. Stay in touch & stay safe. -- ONN, LT. NIA
After sending the note, Nia frowns and shifts in the chair, edgy. There's little more frustrating to her than being nominally in charge of a stationary ship. She swivels to look at the rest of the people on the Bridge. "I have a question for you all," she says with a crooked smile. "It'd be a treat to know what's going on in this ship I'm temporarily commanding. So who among you can tell me what--or who--is being delivered to the cargo bay?"
"Yes, of course," T'Var replies. "A word of caution, though. Ensign Kylah may not remember what has happened to her. Also, I would advise keeping your questioning brief. She still needs time to recover fully from her injuries."
"Of course." Collins turns for the door, then remembers something. "I had made an appointment to see Dr. Villa. Is she still on duty?"
"I believe so. If not, would I be able to assist you?" T'Var asks.
Lt. Joseph Bancroft, the ship's astrophysicist, turns to Onn from the Science I console. "Do you mean Cargo Bay 4, ma'am? It's a prototype sensor module. Dr. Brold, a very distinguished sensor engineer, designed it. It's had extensive tests at the Starfleet research facility on Gagarin VII, but I understand there've been some problems. We're supposed to do a field test."
While she mulls that over, Onn is presented by a yeoman with the previous day's Communications log to approve, as well as a rather long list of Engineering components bought "off the shelf" at a major chandlery in Thoth by Chief Engineer Cheverez. Everything appears to be in order.
The yeoman then hands her a tablet with this:
PROPOSED SHIP'S STANDING ORDER
Proposed by Ens. Josiah F. RUSSELL, Security.
Submitted to Capt. S.P. SINGH, USS Yorktown, NCC-1717, commanding.
INTRODUCTION
It is official Starfleet policy that starship crews are, to the greatest extent possible, encouraged to lead well-rounded and fulfilling social lives, both to enhance morale and to maintain good order and discipline. However, a longstanding barrier to this goal has been that crewmembers not quartered together, but seeking intimate relations with each other, must occasionally make complicated and/or embarrassing arrangements with cabinmates and others to obtain privacy. Fortunately, I respectfully suggest, this problem is easily solved.
DRAFT ORDER
The Ship's Quartermaster shall designate ten guest quarters as Temporary Quarters (TQs), available by reservation or on a first-come, first-served basis to any personnel upon request.
TQs may be reserved or used for any period from one to ten hours, and shall be promptly vacated at the end of such time.
TQs shall be left clean and shipshape by personnel making use of them. A cleaning charge of up to 100 credits per user may be imposed at the Quartermaster's discretion, if TQs are afterwards found otherwise.
Repeated misuse of TQs may result in the cancellation of usage privileges for the offending personnel, as well as disciplinary proceedings.
The Quartermaster may cancel any reservation at any time, or order TQs immediately vacated, as necessary for official purposes or by order of a superior officer.
AUTHORITY
Pursuant to Starfleet Regs. 13-04020(A) and 13-05503(D)(2).
IMPLEMENTATION
This Standing Order shall take effect upon approval of the Captain, be reported timely to Starfleet Command, and remain in effect unless and until reversed thereby.
"Yes, that's exactly what I did mean. Thanks, Mr. Bancroft." Nia smiles appreciatively at him, then glances back at the viewcreen. "A new sensor module, hmm? Timing is everything. Pity it wasn't around when we were looking for Ensign Kylah. Well, maybe the test can make itself useful by searching for the charmers who bashed her head in--assuming the planetside team gets us something to scan for. Though I'm sure they will, if it exists."
Nia is basically talking to keep herself occupied, although a little banter among the Bridge crew would be a nice change. Vargas runs his Bridge like a Vulcan meditation group: silence is golden, unless one is ordered to speak. Singh is much less strict, but even so, the weight of her Captain's stripes tends to stifle freewheeling discussion.
But Nia finds interaction among crewmates a useful and highly desired aspect of Bridge duty, especially on a starship that makes as lengthy trips as the Yorktown does. Chemistry is as important among a crew as it is among bedmates. Maybe more so, Nia thinks with a slight smile. Never found myself in a life-or-death situation in an orgy. Well... almost never.
If she were ten years younger she might blush at her thoughts. But Nia isn't ten years younger. She just enjoys the memories and gives herself another ten minutes before she checks in with Graham again to make sure the team down below is safe.
"Actually," Collins replies to Dr. T'Var, "I suppose it doesn't matter which doctor I see, just that Dr. Villa has been my primary since,..." she finds she cannot bring herself to finish that sentence, so she hurriedly adds "I just wanted to know how I was healing, and to get my contraceptive booster shot."
Rangin nods back at the Gnalish scientists as he starts to recollect the species from his studies.
There is a murmured, but polite, Ma'am to Lt. Patel and a Mr Zweller to the red haired gentleman. It takes a few moments before he recognises him from a long time ago at the Academy, they had graduated at the same time, although Rangin is sure Zweller had been on the command track and not engineering. Then again, Rangin only knows him from the first year or so, before other events overtook his life, so he may just be thinking of the wrong person. The Academy is a large place after all.
Once the greetings are done, Rangin smiles to all of them, before addressing the lead Gnalish, "Dr Brold, how can I assist?"
Graham quickly replies to Onn's text message - Thanks. Unless I plan to stage a coup I probably have enough firepower down here. But you never know. Will apprise.
He then quietly hails Jones and asks him to inquire with the local police about the bar and its staff.
Graham gestures for Rawlings to join him at the bar, picking a spot where he can talk to the Bolian they spoke with earlier. "How about a Terran beer?" Graham asks, gesturing to Rawlings to order one as well if he wishes.
"Our colleague is going to recover, by the way," he says to the Bolian.
"Unfortunately, she's not awake yet, so we haven't been able to as her any questions so far." He shrugs. "While we're stymied and waiting to find any new leads, I was thinking we might set up shop here. I need place where a half-dozen Starlet Security officers can make themselves at home. Naturally, for safety's sake we'd have to post some people outside the front door, but we'd try to keep animated conversations over our tricorders to a minimum when prospective customers are walking by."
He sighs and looks around, then back to the bartender. "That is, unless we had some other leads to pursue."
Nia is still mulling over her memories when she receives the tablet from the Yeoman with the new request from Ensign Russell, whoever he is. The longer she reads, her eyes widen further. Nia doesn't bother hiding her surprise at the subject of the proposal.
Her own quarters are solo and spacious--well, spacious enough--so that privacy has never been an issue for her, at least not since her promotion to Lieutenant. Besides, sneaking around used to be half the fun.
Still, the idea of designated, um, 'trysting' quarters makes a good deal of sense. What astonishes her is that it's an Ensign who had the nerve to make such a proposal.
She gets to the part about the cleanliness requirements... and a possible fine of 100 credits... and when she tries to imagine what could possibly cost 100 credits to clean up, Nia has to choke back a laugh. It only worsens when she realizes the discussion that will inevitably take place between the ship's highest-ranking officers when considering the proposal.
Oh, please, in the name of Sid'Os, she prays, covering her tightened lips with her fingers, Please let me be here when Singh and Vargas discuss this!
Nia wants to swivel in her chair and show Thalen, because of everyone on the Bridge, he would appreciate this the most. She controls the impulse considering the mixed company and, of course, the inappropriateness of sharing what is likely intended to be confidential. Still, I have got to find out who this Russell person is. Double-T must know his story, she realizes, since Rawlings is security. Graham too. Now that'd be an ice-breaker for sure.
Thinking of Graham seems to have invoked him, because her communicator signals an incoming message. "Good," she murmurs as she reads, having been a bit concerned at not having heard from them. The 'coup' joke keeps the smile on her face, and it stays there when she sets the tablet down and returns her communicator to her belt.
Grinning, she thanks the yeoman and looks forward to passing the tablet over to Singh. Little things like this, Nia thinks, are why sitting in the big chair is worth it, even when we're doing jack-all.
Black sweeps away, lightening to gray. She is running through the miasma that surrounds her. Escaping. She spots a transporter pad and almost leaps onto it, screaming at someone, anyone, to beam her out of here. Delaney, he is here somewhere. She knows he suggested a different test, the transporter was broken and unpredictable, but she demands that he obey her and let her go first.
Even as she does, she feels guilty, defensive, too many moods to track. She knows she desperately wants to flee, but she is leaving others behind, and in danger. People surround her. No, not people: monsters. Clawing at her. Hitting her--her shoulders, her throat, her neck. She attempts to reach for her phaser but suddenly she finds her arms unable to move.
A nondescript man appears in front of her. "Don't waste your time. You aren't going anywhere. You keep trying to run. That's all you do, escape, abandon people. Do you know what a coward you are?"
* * *
"I must go," Kylah whispers in Sickbay, her breathing quickening. "It is better for everyone. Please!"
* * *
"You go nowhere without my permission." The man is older, attractive, dark-haired. Is it Hardin? Palver? Graham? Velir? Her uncle? "Even if I did, there's no corner of this universe you can run to escape from me. I'm in your mind, you realize that?"
Her body is being constricted, as if it is clenched within an invisible but massive, immobile fist. She is paralyzed. Somehow she knows others are nearby, her shipmates, but she is too afraid to care about them. She wants to escape so badly she will do anything, she will let this monster have them, if he will just set her free.
* * *
She opens her eyes and everything is silver, metallic silver. And the light is blinding. "I cannot breathe," she gasps in a soft sob. "I am--you are crushing me!"
* * *
The fist just tightens further. Her ribs crack and pierce her lungs, which fill with blood that drowns and chokes her. "You're still trying to run," the voice says, and it is softer now, almost gentle. It is Velir, she is certain of it. "I should never have believed you. Everything you say is a lie."
* * *
"No, Velir, please..." Kylah tries to turn her head but she cannot. There is a tall, dark-haired blur in the distance. "Look at me, I promise, I will do--I will do whatever you want--" Her lungs hurt so much and nothing she says makes a difference. "Stop! Please," she sobs, clutching the blanket that seems to constrict her. "Velir!"
* * *
The gray clouds threaten to engulf her again. It would be so easy to retreat into the mist...
Dr. Brold says, "I have designed a new, cutting-edge, radio astronomy sensor module for use in Starfleet vessels. They have run their tests in the lab and in simulations for more than three months now; your ship has been selected for field testing of the system." The Gnalish scientist looks at Patel. "Starfleet says there are problems, but I am confident that it will pass every test with ease."
Patel coughs into her hand. "Doctor, perhaps I should speak priv--"
"No," says Brold brusquely. "Say what you wish to say, right now, right here, in front of us all."
"Very well." She speaks directly to Singh, Cheverez and Rangin. "Let me say at the outset that I have great respect for Dr. Brold, and like what I've seen of his system so far. It's certainly innovative and would increase RA sensor acuity by more than a third. However, the prototype is delicate, prone to breakdowns, and is about ten percent less energy-efficient than the Sotok Cybersystems TG83-L4A, the standard such sensor module now in use on Constitution-class starships like the Yorktown. The prototype also, when activated, affects biosensors in other shipboard sensor arrays, significantly degrading their effectiveness. That's where you come in, Mr. Rangin. I'm told you know your way around a biosensor...?"
The bartender looks suspiciously at Graham. "What kinds of leads do you mean? I've told you all I know."
Dr. T'Var and Collins notice that Kylah seems in some distress. The vital-functions indicators on the Sickbay bed's overhead display show increased brain activity, heart rate and perspiration.
"Should we wake her?" Collins asks. "Even if she's disoriented, that's got to be better than the nightmare she seems to be having."
Graham has to resist frowning. I have to admit I'm kind of puzzled. If what happened fits the MO of a robbery, but all that was taken was a zither...? Did somebody know she was royalty, presuming she'd have more credits than the average Starfleet officer? He reminds himself to ask Jones to find out the cash value of what was stolen in similar incidents previously.
He leans forward a little bit, not in a threatening way, rather trying to enable both of them to speak with lowered voices. "The local constabulary say there have been some similar...incidents...with visitors before. Unauthorized transporter whisks them off, and bam..." He taps a finger on the counter. "Is there anything that might have called attention to her as a target..." He shrugs. "Did she pay with large bills? Can you remember her talking to anybody else--or did anybody else ask about her."
Graham pauses, glances briefly at Rawlings as if weighing something of great importance to Starfleet, and leans even closer to the bartender. "Look, the thing is, she's real important on her home planet. Really important. You see and hear a lot... I'm just saying that the stakes are pretty high in terms of finding who actually laid hands on her. And why. Whether that's collateral damage for anybody who's in the way, or the prospect of a helluva reward for whoever helps us find the ones that banged her up."
He clenches his jaw slightly at his last phrase.
The bartender shrugs and says, over the noise of the crowd, "She was a uniformed, pretty Starfleet woman in a bar that doesn't see many of them. I'd say she got some attention. She paid from her shipboard account. She talked to a couple of people, as I told you before." A man in stained coveralls steps up to the bar to order. "Now, if you'll excuse me, we're kinda busy...?"
Should we wake her...
Kylah's eyes open again, and everything is still silvery-gray. The tall, dark-haired blur is near another figure with what seems to be red hair. One wears blue, the other red. She cannot discern any faces. Exhaustion and panic fight for dominance. "Wake me... was I dreaming?" she whispers, not recognizing her own voice. "No. It was real. Where... where is this?"
Frightened, she starts to sit up but the slight movement of her head makes her groan and abandon the attempt. "What have you done to me?" she begs, shutting her eyes against the dizziness. "Please, I did not mean to anger you. It hurts..."
Graham shrugs. "Go do what you gotta do," he says, drawing back away from the bartender.
When he has a chance to speak under his breath to Rawlings he sighs. "Until Kylah wakes up...or a DNA test from the struggle comes through, I feel like we're sitting on a big sack of nothing down here." He shakes his head ever so slightly. "Who'd go through the trouble to steal a weird musical instrument..?"
Graham frowns for a moment and then holds his communicator close to his mouth so as not to be overheard. "Graham to Ni...aaaa...lieeuutenant Onn. Request that an image of Kylah be passed to the Scamp...and the Blissful...uh, Wistful Penelope if she's still in orbit, with a request that to aid in an investigation we'd like to talk briefly anyone who spoke with her today." He pauses a second. Getting off world. "If there are any takers, to be patched through direct to me." He'd slipped back into a command mode he had practiced a long time ago, and realizes he probably sounded like a Lieutenant Commander giving an order to a Cadet. "Ah, ma'am. Please." he adds quickly.
Fuck. We should search Kylah's room. I don't think she'd like that. Graham texts Collins. Are you somewhere we could talk privately?
After Graham's awkward hail, Nia listens with amusement despite the seriousness of the situation. "Very good, Booker Ensign Graham," she says wryly. "Your request is my command. Literally. I assume you'll clue me in when you can. Good luck. Onn out."
She spins to face Thalen. "Lieutenant, looks like we're getting... somewhere... with the Kylah situation, although it seems that place is in orbit, bizarrely. Please open a channel and hail the good ships Scamp and Wistful Penelope--" Nia grimaces. What a depressing name, who comes up with these things? "--And at the same time, call up a good image of Kylah, ready for transmittal? Thanks."
Assuming Thalen gets through to the Scamp and Wistful Penelope...
"Onscreen, if possible?" Nia asks Thalen, then swivels to face the viewscreen. "Greetings to you both. I'm Lt. Nia Onn of the Yorktown. Sorry to get in touch solely for a favor, but we need assistance tracking the movements of one of our officers who was down on Anubis this afternoon. With permission, I'd like to transmit her image to you..." She glances at Thalen with a nod and a roll of her hand for him to begin the process. "Her name's Ensign Kylah. Could you please circulate this to your crew and any passengers on board? We need to know if someone on the planet today--in particular, in Thoth or Hathor--might have seen or spoken to her at some point."
Nia purposely doesn't mention any crime involved; she knows that might make someone reluctant to get involved. This way, maybe they'll just assume she's AWOL. Y'know, like you did, earlier, she thinks guiltily.
She concludes: "As you'll see from her picture, she's a young woman and fairly memorable. I'm hoping someone will recognize her and tell us anything they can. Will you please help us and let us know what you find out? Time's of the essence, I'm afraid."
Collins goes back over to Kylah's bedside. "You're on the Yorktown, in Sick Bay. You're safe now. No one is trying to hurt you," Jeremi tells her. She tentatively puts her hand, very lightly, on Kylah's shoulder. She ignores her communicator for the moment.
At first, the touch on her shoulder is warm and calming, but after a few seconds Kylah feels something like a shockwave of heat radiating outward and ending with a sharp, burning sensation behind her eyes. Even with the pain, concern for the person nearby almost overwhelms her. "Who are you? What has happened? You say this is the Yorktown... I do not understand..."
Trying to process what she is sensing, Kylah gradually realizes it is her own empathic powers, reflecting the emotions of the person touching her and somehow magnifying them tenfold. The physical contact makes it worse.
"Please do not touch me," she says immediately, shrinking. She blinks a few times, frightened of what she just experienced and confused beyond comprehension. "You said I--I am in sickbay. Why? My head... Why is everything so..." Her right hand weakly lifts to rub her eyes. "So blurry?" Belated recognition at last reaches her foggy mind, and she asks wonderingly, "Lieutenant Collins? Is that you?"
"Yes," Collins says reassuringly. "And Doctor T'Var is here, too. Try to relax, you're going to be alright."
T'Var checks Kylah's vital signs and other readings. The doctor administers a mild pain killer and a mood stabilizer.
"You are safe, Ensign," T'Var assures her. "And you should recover fully from your injuries."
"Yes Ma'am, I do." acknowledges Rangin, "several years experience over a variety of systems." He looks over the module well aware that the others are all waiting for him to continue.
He resists the urge to ask what would happen if the delicate sensor is hit by a hammer during testing, but a small smile, the first one for several hours begins to form and he slowly nods as his puts his thoughts together, something new to keep him occupied, out of trouble and helping out.
"For starters, if permissible, I'd like to see the associated biosensor test results? Are any test modules that can be used in isolation against sensors?"
Rangin looks across at Lt Patel and inclines his head slightly. "and perhaps some direction in cutting through the reports to the important parts."
"Dr. T'Var," Kylah says, her voice dull, wishing she could see more clearly--but her empathic sense is so acute and exaggerated that she does not need sight nor sound to recognize the doctor. The calm logic of the Vulcan is more immediately comforting, almost numbing, than the medications she administers. Kylah does not resist although she does not want anyone near her right now. "Then I am truly on the ship. How did I... I was..."
She struggles to remember anything that could have brought her here. "I was on the planet," Kylah mutters, squinting. The back of her eyes still ache--the pain medication seems to have helped the throbbing in her ribs and the dizziness of her head wound, but whatever is happening in her brain has not been affected. "But now I am not. What happened to me? Please, can you tell me?" She tries to find her roommate again. "Lt. Collins?"