Star Trek RPG - Mission #4: "Codex Aelyrr"

Concentrating hard on the tricorder and the readings, Rangin doesn't hear Graham's approach until he hears the voice close to his left ear. Instinct takes over and the next thing he knows, he turns the tricorder on edge and swings it hard back at the source of the voice right behind him, stopping only at the last moment as he recognises the ugly tone as being from Ens. Graham behind him. Wondering if he should have swung harder and kept going, Rangin slowly lowers the tricorder mere inches away from Graham's face before realising that Graham is not in any danger from him. He had already started to move back and out of the way with one hand coming up.

"I hope you have a good explanation for sneaking up on me like that yourself, given I'm trying to follow this trail and make sure I don't miss anything, like anything Kylah's assailants may have left behind, or do you only care more about annoying your shipmates in stupid ways."

Rangin steps back and drops the tricorder to one side and crosses his arms looking furiously back at him. "Why was I on board?" before freeing one arm and gesticulating at him. "Don't be an idiot Graham, shore leave had ended, why wouldn't I be on board?" The tone in his voice saying making clear what Rangin thinks of Graham's question.

"If you'll excuse me, I have a job to do and you're getting on my nerves." Rangin continues, his voice dripping with ire, "You want to help, stand there, shut up and stay out of my way. I'd rather you didn't trample all over the trail." before turning his back on Graham and getting his tricorder ready. "You know, you could try thinking, once in a while." Rangin dramatically taps the side of his head before going back to scanning muttering something indistinct and vulgar under his breath about the last thing Rangin wanting is Graham getting in the way while he tries to find out what happened

Dr. T'Var briefs Dr. Villa on what she's already learned about Kylah's condition. The unconscious young woman is gently transferred to a bed by the medics, and the two doctors conduct a more intensive scan with Sickbay's more sophisticated instruments. The scan confirms in greater detail what they already knew - most importantly, and fortunately, there is no sign of brain damage. The doctors scrub and prepare for surgery.

On the Bridge, Bennett says to Onn, "Yes, I can't imagine the Elasians would be pleased if one of their royal family were injured or killed - but they had to know that was a risk in Starfleet."

Rangin doesn't have to go very far to the nearest building, and finds a large, corroded metal door that is just ajar. There are several bloodstains on the floor in the gap between the door and the wall, and a bloody handprint around the edge of the door at about waist level. He pulls it further open, with effort, and sees two bloody handprints smeared on the inside of the door, slightly higher.

St. Croix tells Collins what little they've learned since arriving.

T'Var fills Villa in on Kylah's condition. "Do you recommend a standard course of treatment or something else?" the doctor asks.

"Standard treatment, I believe," says Dr. Villa. Using the technological marvels of Starfleet medicine, she and Dr. T'Var soon mend Kylah's broken bones and heal her bruises. A nurse then cleans her and changes her into a recovery gown. A followup scan shows that all is well. "Let's let her wake on her own," Villa finally says with a smile. "Could be within the hour."

The CMO gives an update to the Captain over the intercom, which Onn overhears. Ens. Three Crows passes the good news along to Collins on the surface.

"Thank you, Three Crows" Collins says and tells the rest of the landing party that Kylah will be just fine. Collins taps up Graham on her communicator and tells him as well, and asks him to pass the news along to Rangin.

"Now then," Collins turns back to St. Croix and the others, "Let's gather as much data as we possibly can from around here, down to the smallest speck, then we'll join Rangin and Graham and help them with the investigation."

"Agreed," T'Var replies. "I am sure Security will wish to speak with Ens. Kylah as soon as possible. However, I believe she should rest a while first."

St. Croix nods. She and the others search the plaza, by eye and by tricorder, but find little of interest. It is apparent that Kylah emerged from the building into which Rangin is heading, making her way out onto the plaza before collapsing and then being found. The surrounding industrial area appears to have been abandoned for at least a decade.

Dr. Villa asks, "Would you like to sit with her? I have another patient to attend to."

Graham's not sure whether he's more taken aback by Rangin's aborted swing with the tricorder, Rangin giving him lip, given the circumstances--or the amount of blood.

The amount of blood, he thinks, glancing quickly around, his mouth dry. Only the fact that he knows Kylah is already onboard, given his estimation of her injuries from what he's seen here, keeps him calm.

But calm is a relative thing...

Graham shuts the door. "Let me rephrase my question," he says tightly, avoiding trampling on any blood spots but otherwise positioning himself squarely in front of Rangin and close enough to be eyeball-to-eyeball if his colleague were taller. "Why did you go to some sleazy dive bar on an unfamiliar planet with Kylah and wind up onboard like you'd just enjoyed a walk in the park while she...wound...up...here?" Each of his last four words are punctuated by a sharp stab of his finger pointing downward to the filthy floor of the room.

He starts to put his hands on his hips but then stops, not quite done. He points sharply at Rangin's chest, stopping a millimeter away from poking the man. "I don't know how the hell you do things on Coridan, but in Starfleet we damn sure don't bug out on our own people when they could be in danger."

"Oh, so this is my fault now or are you just looking to blame this on someone else because you weren't around to protect her." Rangin is now thoroughly exasperated with Graham and just wishes he would go away. "So what happens next or do you just start hitting until you get the answer you want?"

"How about I make it crystal clear for you. I was back on the ship because shore leave was up. I have no idea what sleazy joint you are about and the last time I saw Kylah on leave before now she was physically fine. Got it. Great."

Graham blinks, stunned by Rangin's response.

He sees Rangin's previous harangues in a whole new light. He's still not sure what happened earlier, but the preponderance of evidence is pointing in one direction. So it's all about 'the rules' with you, is it?

Part of him feels like it would be easier if Rangin was in fact a closet violent psychopath--but the fact is he doesn't feel like hitting anyone. He feels sick to his stomach.

Graham takes a step back. "'The last time I saw Kyah she was physically fine.'" He shakes his head. "And that answer makes you feel better, does it? But, hey, you were johnny-on-the-spot getting back on the ship. Congratulations, maybe the captain will give you a commendation for punctuality." His last sentence drips with contempt.

"Take your readings," he says dismissively, moving out of Rangin's way toward the door. "Your priorities are 'crystal clear' to me." He pauses. "But you know what--just for the record, I will make it a point to be around to protect her, try to stay out of the goddamned way."

Back when Bennett commented about what the Elasian government should have expected once it sent a sole representative into Starfleet, Nia just nodded. She didn't bother to say the obvious: that in life, something you expect, and what you actually feel when that something occurs, often have nothing to do with each other. But maybe such cognitive dissonance doesn't fit into Cecilia Bennett's pleasant, orderly world. Or maybe it does and she's too busy being cognitively dissonant herself to realize it.

Shortly thereafter, word came back that the lost little ensign was found battered into unconsciousness, and Nia immediately felt remorse. She offered up a quick prayer to a deity she doesn't really believe in that Ensign Kylah would be all right, and that whoever did this to her would be found damn fast.

Now, with the CMO's good news audible through Singh's communicator, Nia breathes a sigh of relief and sits back in her chair, only just becoming aware that she's been leaning forward, muscles tense as steel wires, since learning of the assault. She stares out at the planet on the viewscreen and, for some reason, finds herself wondering about Kylah's age.

Graduated only a few months ago, isn't that right? Can't be more than 25, not with that face, unless royal life really does keep you young. She swallows and realizes that ever since the girl's injuries were revealed, her mind has been calculating in the background, like a computer running some program while its owner stepped away for a cup of coffee.

"How old is she, anyway?" Nia asks casually, still to Bennett. "There's no need to inform any parents or anything, is there? I don't know what's considered 'adult' on Elas." Even as she speaks, she has a sudden burning need to visit the patient, even though there's no possible reason--much less an explanation--why she'd do so.

"Yes, I would," T'Var replies. The doctor settles herself at Kylah's bedside and will keep a close watch on her condition. "If anything changes, I will notify you immediately," T'Var tells Villa.

T'Var places her hand on Kylah's arm. "I am here," she whispers. "All is well."

Bennett says, "I'm not sure. Early twenties, maybe?" She begins plotting a possible course from Anubis to Starbase 27, just for practice. "She wouldn't have been allowed to join Starfleet if she weren't an adult under her world's laws. I believe it's the Captain's practice to leave it to individual crewmembers to tell their families about any injury in the course of duty, short of death."

Dr. Villa smiles and goes off to see her other patient.

Collins sees Graham and Rangin posturing at each other, which to her means they are not looking for evidence, so she takes her flashlight and slowly sweeps the floor, hoping to find something, anything, useful.

Rangin doesn't bother answering Graham, he's just not worth the effort when there are more important things to concern himself with. He knows nothing about what happened and is blowing smoke, trying to bolster some hardman image and bully those smaller than himself. Yeah, nothing unusual there at all, not to mention the fact that Graham is sounding more and more like a creepy stalker with a Kylah fascination.

He shudders at the thought and goes back to scanning, shaking his head. He probably should let Kylah know once she has recovered, she will recover, about Graham's intention.

He wonders whether he can find more evidence, something Booker Big-britches seems incapable of dealing with, and he called himself a policeman. Thug, dim-witted bully, but not someone interested in upholding the law. Someone who would break the rules at a moment's notice to satisfy his own personal needs. Rangin was no saint, but at least he is trying to be a better person. Graham is probably too old and too twisted to even consider changing.

Trying to put it further out of his mind, he concentrates on the bloodstains, signs of a struggle, anything dropped, footprints in and out, something to show what may have happened.

Graham and Rangin are in what appears to be a large abandoned warehouse or storage area. It is dark and cold inside; the floor is uneven, dirty and gritty. The dirt on the floor is particularly disturbed by scuffed footprints against one wall. Rangin sees and scans even more blood there, the DNA of most of which matches Kylah's. There are also several droplets, much less than Kylah's, of blood from one other person. The Coridanite xenobiologist also finds several small roughly-torn or -broken scraps of wood, cloth and other materials, apparently from Kylah's zither and bag. There are more scuffed footprints going from the wall to the metal door - it looks like at least three people, perhaps more, were here.

St. Croix's tricorder scan of the desolate, weedy plaza outside reveals a faint transporter energy residue no more than an hour old, a couple of dozen meters from the door. Collins and the others find nothing else of interest out on the plaza.

Graham steps outside to ask St. Croix what she's found, then looks back into the storage room.

Back on the clock, Booker...

He frowns, looking around the room, passing over Rangin as if he were just another piece of dirt-crusted detritus.

So either Kylah came here, intentionally, to make some kind of deal and got double-crossed. Doesn't make any sense--what, trading a zither to get off planet?

Or she was abducted. Once again, why? She's some kind of political figure...but she was...injured...and left behind. Not hostage taking, not assassination.

"I get myself into situations." What the hell kind of situation was this?

Graham's not sure he really wants to know...

"Can you fine tune your tricorder, St. Croix?" Collins asks, "Maybe you can get something about who or what was transported, and if it or they were coming or going."

When Graham comes out to talk to St. Croix, Collins brings him up to date, leaving the former to concentrate on the tricorder readings. She then asks "What's going on with you and Rangin, Booker?"

Graham grunts and starts to pace in a tight circle in front of Collins, clasping his hands behind his back. He exhales slowly and stops, his hands on his hips.

"So we know two things: Rangin went into that dive bar with Kylah, and Kylah wound up here alone." He starts to pace again, controlling his anger by moving around. "Near as I can tell, she needed help with...something...that was going to take extra time..." Getting off planet? Still doesn't make any sense. "Rangin won't tell me jack except how proud he is he was back on station the minute shore leave was up." He stands still and frowns, glancing back toward the warehouse. "Oh, also what an asshole I am. Maybe you can get something else out of him, L-T."

He shakes his head, almost done, then notices once again the blood trail on the ground. He leans in toward Collins, his voice dropping almost to a growl. "You know, I don't have a lot of sympathy for Kjaerstad--his reaction to the fuck-ups on OCIII was way too casual for my taste." He jabs with his thumb back toward the warehouse. "But Rangin sounds like he's ready to put himself in for a fucking commendation on the day."

He takes a deep breath. Quit while you're ahead Booker. Or maybe behind. "I can't deny he got on my nerves a few times on OCIII, but there's something wrong withe someone who looks at...this..." he points to a particularly large patch. Was that where they found her? He reminds himself that there's still a lot he doesn't know about the incident. His voice softens and he's more disturbed about what happened and worried about Kylah's condition than angry. "And doesn't even give a shit."

"Okay, I get you're angry," Collins tells Graham, "but having it out with him here is counter-productive. Once we have this whole investigation under control, you and he can go to the Gym and beat the crap out of each other for all the difference it will make." She tries to keep her voice even-toned, but she has little patience for macho measuring contests. They're so 21st century.
"Right now we have a tiny piece of a crumb of a sliver of a lead with the transporter trace St. Croix found. You help her, I'll see what I can do to help Rangin." With that, she goes into the building and goes over to Rangin, careful not to step on anything that might be important.

Graham opens his mouth, about to offer some suggestions for how to "help" Rangin, but thinks better of it.

"Yes ma'am," he says softly, then heads over to St. Croix's position.

St. Croix refines her tricorder scan and finds three energy readings close together. It appears that three people beamed up simultaneously, or nearly so.

Rangin, too, finds transporter trace energy in the warehouse. He finds four readings, however, within a similar timespan.

"Ensign Rangin," Collins says as she approaches him, "You heard that Kylah will recover completely, right? Is there anything I can do to help you here?"

Rangin is crouched down in one corner of the room, tricorder on the floor pointing inwards, as he tries to work out what happened. As Collins approaches he turns slightly on his heels to swivel and face her. At the news that Kylah will recover, he slumps with his knees on the floor thankful for the news letting out an explosive sigh of relief.

"Thank you ma'am, no I didn't know and thank you again for telling me." Rangin gestures to the area in front of him and calmly begins. "Right. This is what we have. Transport beams of four people. DNA and blood traces of two people. One of them is most likely to be Kylah, the other would be from one of her assailants. Signs of a scuffle over there and sets of footprints heading for the door."

Pointing with one hand to specific items and gesturing Collins to use her flashlight. "We also have a few other items around. Some remains of Kylah's zither, which she will undoubtedly want back. Her communicator is over there, smashed and unusable, and there are a few fragments of cloth around of the dress, which match the colour of the dress she was wearing."

Rangin looks back up at Collins having finished his report. "I'll leave it to the experts as to what happened here, but I would suggest sending the samples off to the authorities to see if they can track the culprits down."

"Agreed," Collins nods and opens her communicator. "Collins to Yorktown. Please contact the Thoth Constabulary, in particular Sergeant Marcucci. Please tell him we found our missing crew member and could use his help with the investigation of the scene." She pauses briefly, "Tell him the request is from me. Collins out."

Collins looks at the shattered instrument, and feels her heart tighten a little. "What a shame. I never heard her play, but it was beautiful to look at." Then she looks at Rangin. He appears twenty years older than he did on the bridge less than an hour ago. "You two are close, huh? Did you start Shore Leave together? What happened?"

Thalen responds to Collins, "Acknowledged. Will do." Collins remembers that Marcucci had already said he would contact the Hathor police, and sure enough, another, similar marked aircar soon touches down on the plaza. A single uniformed officer gets out, a black Human male. He speaks to St. Croix and then enters the warehouse.

Thalen next tells Singh, "Dr. Brold has signaled that he and his team are now ready for the transfer, ma'am."

The Captain rises from her chair. "Right. I'd almost forgotten. Mr. Vargas, would you come with me, please? Mr. Onn, you have the conn." She catches herself, noticing the rhyme, and smiles at the Sidonian officer. "I don't think I've said that before. Carry on." She and the First Officer enter the turbolift and the doors whisk shut.

Nia returns Captain Singh's smile. She's had the conn before, of course, but it's true that this particular phrasing is new. Plenty of puns have been made using the shortened version of Nia's patronymic name, at least from English-speaking humans. She looks forward to hearing an original one, if such a thing exists.

Sitting in the big chair, Nia enjoys the thrill--it just doesn't get old. Of course she prefers it when the ship is actually en route somewhere. Right now they're just biding time. Meanwhile she's curious about this transfer, and what its purpose is, and just who this Dr. Brold person is. A doctor--or a scientist of some sort? Hopefully she'll find out soon enough.

Her thoughts return to the planet and what the security team is doing. Are they safe? Just how many charming planet stopovers will turn out to be dangerous after all? Nia shakes her head and runs her mind over the current crewmembers down on Anubis. Is Rawlings still there? She doesn't believe he is, but she's lost track of the comings-and-goings of the redshirts. Envisioning "Two-Tons" Rawlings as she's seen him, up close and very personal, she dismisses her concerns. Even if he is still planetside, Double-T is a tank. He can take care of himself.

Then there's Collins, young but capable if somewhat... impetuous. Most of all, she's just had a health scare. Hope she's being careful. Well, she's surrounded by good people. St. Croix, Graham, even T'Var, doctor or not. She'll be fine.

Basically Nia does everything but let her thoughts linger on Bennett's words about the wounded ensign in Sickbay: Early twenties. If she's on the younger side of that spectrum, she'd be just about the same age...

Ugh. Don't get maudlin. With an irritable shrug, Nia settles back in the chair and waits for more news--mostly about this mysterious transfer as well as the security team's hopefully safe investigation. And, no matter what orders she gives her recalcitrant brain, the truth is, part of her is anxious to hear more about Ensign Kylah's recovery.

If she cares to indulge her curiosity, Onn knows that, as Bridge Command Duty Officer, she may properly ask for updates on anything concerning ship's operations or the investigation of the landing party in Hathor.

Graham rubs his chin. St. Croix found three transporter signatures out here. Confrontation occurs in the warehouse. Three perps walk out and beam up here, leaving Kylah behind.

He frowns. Robbery, but of what? And she fought--she told me she wasn't confident defending herself, with those odds and nothing but what she was carrying on leave to defend, why would she fight...

What did Collins say? "But she's probably just hooked up with some local guy and having some fun. No excuse, but typical Kylah.

Oh hell. Oh no, no, no...

"St. Croix," Graham asks, his voice almost a whisper. "What was Kylah's...condition...when you found her?"

Graham, St. Croix and the others are outside on the weedy, barren plaza. Collins and Rangin are inside the warehouse.

St. Croix tells Graham, "She was unconscious, bloodied and lying a few dozen meters out here from the warehouse."

The Hathor cop enters the warehouse and approaches Collins. He says, "I'm Officer Pendleton, Hathor Constabulary. Found anything? Need any help?"

Rangin nods at Collins words, "I never even knew she played until a few hours ago, but I still got the idea it was very precious to her."

Thinking over how little he knew of Kylah before answering and unable to look Collins in the face, Rangin stares back into the gloom of the area. "Close. We're friendly, though we've only known each other a few weeks really. Not sure how well you can really know someone in that time." Rangin smiles and looks back at Collins realising the short time he has spent on the Yorktown. "After all, I've only known you for a few weeks as well."

Standing up and brushing the dust from himself, before bending down and picking up the tricorder, he turns back towards the darkness. "Yes, we started shore leave together, but not a lot happened. We split up and I headed back to the Yorktown."

Crossing his arms and turning back to Collins, his stare almost accusatory about what she might be thinking, "and before you ask, yes I probably was the last one to see her in Thoth, and no I don't know what happened."

Rangin's gaze switches to the door and outside to the group "Though certain others seem to hold me responsible just for being in the vicinity."

As he finishes, the Hathor Cop enters, to a nod from Rangin while he stands to one side to allow Collins to be in charge.

Collins turns to greet the newcomer. She extends her right hand in greeting,"Lieutenant JG Collins," she tells him. "We seem to have found evidence of a beating and definitely vandalism, if not the intent to rob. The victim is recovering aboard our ship, she should be able to fill in some of the gaps in the information. We've also found transporter traces in here, and out in the plaza. It's on your turf, so we should definitely work together to get to the bottom of all this."

"Sure," says Officer Pendleton. "We're a small department, but we're here to help in any way we can. Where were people beamed to or from? Can you tell?"

"We believe three people beamed out from the plaza, Ensign Rangin found four transporter signatures in here, probably their arrival point." Collins tells the cop. "Is crime a problem in Thoth? Particularly in the area we first investigated, where we met Sergeant Marcucci?"

Graham fidgets a little after St. Croix answers. That wasn't exactly what I meant... But he has little desire to broach the true subject.

Maybe T'Var would be a better bet.

Certainly better than asking Kylah herself...

Pendleton says, "I've never served in Thoth, but it's generally considered safe. What area did you first investigate? I don't know Sgt. Marcucci either, I have to admit. All I know is, I got a call to come out here and help you if I could."

St. Croix notices Graham's expression. "Anything wrong, Mr. Graham?" the Frenchwoman asks. "Was there something else you needed to know?"

Collins describes the bar and environs to Pendleton. "I could get you the exact coordinates if you wish. Sergeant Marcucci and Officer Talbot were there, they offered assistance. In fact, Marcucci said he was going to call you. Are you sure you didn't speak to him?"

Great, Graham thinks wryly, she's a good officer, cute--and observant too.

You've asked this question a hundred times, Booker--what's the problem?

He clears his throat. "Some of how this looks to have gone down doesn't make a lot of sense," he replies. He shakes his head. "Why would she fight against overwhelming odds?"

He pauses, looks around and then back at St. Croix. "Was there any indication of sexual assault?"

Pendleton says, "He spoke to my chief, not to me personally. Thoth is a big city and I don't know either of those officers." He consults his pocket datapad. "Crime stats show Ysobel's is in a rough section of town - one of the roughest, actually, but still not exactly dangerous or crime-ridden, as such. It's all relative."

St. Croix thinks for a moment. "She's pretty spunky, from what I've seen. She might've - probably would've - fought back even if she thought she was going to lose. I thought of sexual assault, too, but saw no sign of it. The clothing around her waist was intact and in place, for whatever it's worth."

Nia knows the captain and first officer will let the crew know about this unknown doctor and whatever they're up to when, and if, it's necessary. The security team on the planet has only just checked in, so she's reluctant to interrupt their work, but Nia's not happy without knowing the exact headcount.

"Lt. Onn to Collins and St. Croix," she says, knowing that the two were leading separate teams when last checked. When they respond to her hail, she adds: "Just want to let you know I'm at the conn while Captain Singh and Cmdr. Vargas are otherwise engaged. Also, I'm pretty sure this was passed on to you folks, but to confirm, last I heard, Mr. Kylah's out of surgery and resting. Shouldn't be long before one of you can talk to her.

"When you get a chance, I'd like a status report so I'm caught up. First, can you give me a n update on who's still down there, and where you all are? And most important, if there's anything you need from us that'll help--personnel, equipment, information, you name it--let me know."

In other circumstances Rangin would scoff at anyone calling that area rough or sleazy, but his experiences are not those of his colleagues. From them he also knows that they will find little there unless they have some solid proof.

"We also have some DNA evidence from one of the assailants. I'm hoping you will be able to identify at least one of the culprits from it."

Collins opens her communicator and replies to Lt. Onn. "Collins here. Yes, we've heard the good news about Mr. Kylah. Kjaerstad, Rawlings, and Jones from my party are back on board; Ensign St. Croix's team are still all here, outside with Mr Graham, except for Dr. T'Var who beamed back with Kylah. There's a local LEO here with us, inside a warehouse; Rangin and I have been bringing him up to speed. We've got transporter traces and DNA, hopefully enough to ID the assailants." She looks to Rangin to check if she's covered everything, and will give him a chance to fill in the gaps if need be, but first says "This will have to be a joint investigation between the locals and us."

Pendleton holds up his datapad and says to Rangin, "Sure. If you'd share those DNA scan results with me, I'll run them through the planetary criminal database."

Graham nods and grunts in reply. He shrugs and looks around the area again: this still doesn't make any sense. Multiple perps. Transporter. Pre-planned location, I'd guess. It's not a petty street crime...but why? The zither couldn't have been that valuable. Trying to get off-planet:smugglers?

Should I have done something different that might have prevented this, he wonders. The other night we seemed to communicate well, she seemed fine... what could have happened since. He recalls Rangin and the other guy--Johnson, the comedian. Graham frowns. But there's no way in even my most paranoid imagination they'd be involved with some local Anubis assholes.

Graham stews: I took a few minutes to find T'Var while on leave down here, I should have at least checked in on Kylah once.

Nia nods to herself. "Very good, Mr. Collins. If there's--" She pauses suddenly. DNA evidence? What the hell... An alarm bell rings in her head, but she curbs her instinct to ask the question aloud. Satisfying her curiosity isn't as important as vouchsafing the ensign's privacy by not announcing to everyone on the Bridge that these bastards did something that left DNA at the scene of the crime. Hopefully it's hair or blood.

She redirects her thoughts. "Might be a long shot and you've probably covered this, but is there any reason to think this was a botched kidnapping? Maybe someone down there knew she was--is--wealthy and connected, especially if she made any big purchases or was recognized? She has been, um... in the news lately. It'll help a lot to trace her exact movements from the time she beamed onto the planet, assuming you haven't yet. If one or two of you can be spared, you might want to beam up to be on hand when Ensign Kylah wakes up."

Nia starts to wonder what Graham's thoughts are. And now she feels foolish asking questions considering they're the security experts, not her. "Anyway, I'll let you get on with it. You don't need my input, I'm sure you all have it in hand. Thanks for the report, Lt. Collins. Let me know if you need anything."

Graham punches a fist into his other hand. I'm useless down here until we have a lead. And I can't ask St. Croix...well, only a doctor would have really...


Out of all his cremates, T'Var seems like the only one he can ask a more detailed question about his fears.

Graham hails Collins. "L-T, permission to beam up...I'd like to ask...ah, to gather some information from the Doc --uh, T'Var, and, ah, maybe Kylah, if she's awake."

"Thank you, Lieutenant, we're way ahead of you down here." Collins is a little annoyed. What the hell, does she think we don't know how to run an investigation. "Collins out."

Before she can put her communicator away, it beeps again. This time it's Graham. Whats his problem? He can't walk a few yards to talk to me? "No, I want you to work with the local LEO. We may have a lead on the perp or perps. I'll go talk to T'Var and Kylah."

Before she goes outside, she asks Rangin, "Can you and Graham work together, or should I bring you back to the ship with new?"

Rangin hands across the details to the Officer Pendleton before turning back to Collins.

"I don't think there is anything left for me to do here. I'm guessing Hathor police will have it in hand along with our Security. Mr Graham appears to have a few issues he is working through, so it may be best if I return to the ship."

"Okay. I'll be outside," Collins comments, "Join me when you're ready to go." She turns to Officer Pendleton "Thank you for all your help. Ensign Graham, the big guy outside, will be in charge of our landing party when Mr. Rangin and I beam up." She offers her hand again for Pendleton to shake.

After shaking hands with Pendleton, Collins will go outside to wait for Rangin. She'll speak to Graham briefly, too, letting him know he's in charge of the landing party.

T'Var continues to sit with Kylah. She closely monitors the ensign's condition. The doctor is aware of the fact that unconscious individuals may still be able to hear what is spoken to them, so....

"I have researched some new meditation techniques we can try when you are ready," T'Var tells Kylah. "A few of them might seem a bit strange, but they might turn out to be quite good."