Star Trek RPG - Mission #3: "Some Other Side of Paradise"

Starfleet personnel don't salute.

Dr. T'Var chooses her words carefully. "She is better now, and is under observation. If all goes well, she should be released from Sickbay within 24 hours; perhaps sooner. I cannot discuss the details of her case, of course."

Kylah looks down at the table, not wanting to look at T'Var--she fears the doctor will suspect her of trying to get some more sense of her emotions. But there is no need. T'Var would not look this way unless something devastating has happened.

"Your mother will be fine, little one. The worst is over."

Kylah looks up, her eyes narrow in doubt. If Mother is well, why does Father seem so sad? Why was Mother crying so loudly? And why is Uncle Aldaan's mind churning with distress, an emotion he is clearly trying to hide from her? "May I see her?"

"No," Uncle Aldaan says--the word very quick, very certain. "She would not wish it."

Frowning, Kylah glances at the bedroom door and notices one of the nurses removing a small basin. A red-stained towel covers something lumpy within. Her heart beats faster when she looks at the nurse's face, senses the grief emanating from her. "Not again," Kylah whispers, terrified. "Did it happen again?"

She feels her uncle's hand clasping her shoulder. "Come away," he says, trying to pull her gently from where she stands in frozen shock. "It is nearly your bedtime, you should not--"

"There will be no baby, will there?" Kylah blurts the question so it is nearly an accusation. "That is what you are not telling me."

Her uncle looks about to say something to distract her, the way adults always do. But he is not any adult, and he knows there is little point in trying to get Kylah to remove her mind from a subject--and less point in lying to her. "You are right," he says in an exhale. "I am sorry, there will be no brother or sister for you, not now. Your parents are mourning the loss." Aldaan kneels down and cups her chin in his large hand. "They will recover eventually, it will just take time. But you know this makes you even more precious."

Kylah is not so sure. When Mother's last pregnancy ended abruptly, her parents seemed angry with her for some reason. She was warned not to visit, and when she slipped inside Mother's room anyway, Mother took one look at her and tearfully ordered the girl out.

Kylah never realized how much she wanted a brother or sister until just now. She is lonely and wanted someone to play with. And Mother will be sad and empty and perhaps will not talk to her for weeks. "I do not want to be alone anymore," she says, starting to cry. Her uncle embraces her, whispers how important she is, and promises her that she will never be alone as long as he is with her.

But it is not the same thing. And suddenly Kylah realizes that this must be how Mother feels. Kylah cannot make up for the baby she lost. Nothing will.

Kylah keeps her gaze lowered, though it is now blurry. No matter how she feels about Collins... This seems so terribly unfair. Even having known--or at least sensed--Collins's ambivalence about the pregnancy, Kylah can only guess how the other woman must feel now, with the choice taken away from her.

Unable to think of an adequate response to T'Var's discreet announcement, Kylah bites down hard on her lower lip and tries not to cry.

"Ah. all right, well, thanks for taking good care of her Doc," Graham says. "And it's good to have you back."

He clears his throat and addresses the group. "So next on the list, so to speak, is a public statement...since many of us have conducted some additional interviews just now, and folks will be getting out and about by this time of the day, word's surely going to get out." He starts to pace. "Before that, though--have we learned anything new? Anything that would change our theory of the case?"

He stops and looks around, his expression inviting comment.

Lifting her head, Kylah blinks and glances over to Velir before speaking. "I... I am not sure I know what our theory of the case is yet, and so I do not know whether what we have learned will change it. So far, three out of the five guests who were treated with the spores yesterday say that they are no longer affected. The only one we have not yet heard from is Lord Fastolfe, and I believe it is urgent to speak with him as soon as possible. If he is no longer affected by the spores, I cannot imagine that someone with his temperament would not have already been in contact with the administration or the medical staff demanding an explanation."

She hesitates and nervously licks her lips to moisten them. "Our conversation with Prolun Jaxo was not particularly fruitful," she says in as measured a voice as she can. "During the presumed time of Wilson's death, the Jaxo has a mutual alibi shared with his aides, albeit one that does not preclude his being involved with or hearing anything of the murder. More importantly, I do not believe he answered some of our questions truthfully. His claim to have been unaware that the resort's contract is up for renewal; his claim that the spores have not worn off early; and his assertion that he has neither met Admiral Hardin, nor even knew that the Admiral was here: I am quite certain that all of these were lies. Or not the entire truth, at any rate. There was also a strange discomfort when I asked him whether he was interested in pursuing a business connection with the Federation. I cannot... I cannot describe it."

She looks at T'Var somewhat helplessly, unable to articulate how or why she knows what she does. Truthfully, she cannot even understand it herself. The emotions she felt when the Jaxo spoke were so dim to her, it was like trying to decipher a mere echo of a whisper.

Kylah shakes her head, knowing she can give no more details. "I find it coincidental, to the point of stretching credulity, that each and every person we have spoken to thus far in the residences--with the exception of the elusive Mrs. Webb--apparently has some financial relationship to WR&R's competition, or in some other way is connected to Admiral Hardin and this contract renewal. I believe we must learn more about these people and precisely how their financial affairs are related to this planet."

She scowls, not having thought of something until just now. "It suddenly strikes me... why is this one contract of such importance? Perhaps this was explained and I have merely forgotten, but.. does WR&R have the sole rights to the entire planet and the spores? A whole planet, used by only two entities, the laboratory and one resort. Is there not enough space for others to utilize the land, either for business or colonizing purposes? It seems--"

Now Kylah abruptly stops speaking for a moment. Something she just said has triggered a faint memory; she can practically feel it skittering around her mind, but cannot pin it down. She purses her lips in frustration and again shakes her head, so distracted that when she turns to the man next to her, she forgets the pretense of formality: "I am sorry to ramble on for so long, Velir. Please go ahead."

Dobson notices this lapse in formality, but says nothing.

"We did get something interesting points from both interviews with Mrs Calvin and Prolun Jaxo though", Rangin continues on as if nothing was wrong. He stops for just a moment, mouth half open, when he realises that the usual formality has not been met before hastily continuing.

"Mrs Calvin was working until gone midnight and heard nothing from outside. Prolun Jaxo as his aides returned from the restaurant around midnight and saw nothing. The aide left to guard the house heard nothing. I'm seriously beginning to wonder if anything took place out there. It's not as if the body was hidden away, and yet everyone seems to have missed it."

"The other thing that surprised me is Prolun Jaxo's statement that the only two Starfleet personnel he had ever met, was Ensign Kylah and I. Especially given his supposed position in the government. As for whether he was lying, this is why Ensign Kylah is in comms and I'm in science, I have no idea but it would not surprise me if he had been economical with the truth."

"I don't have any specific theory about the murder, could be anything from personal, to the resort, to it being an accident as someone reacted badly to the spores." Rangin shrugs, "all we have are a lot of facts which fit them all at the moment."

He looks back up at Graham. "As well as the announcement, we could really do with checking the spores and transporter here in the resort."

Graham smiles slightly and taps his tricorder. "Well those are all on the list, right?" He nods. "But I do agree - I'd propose, after the announcement, Mrs. Hsu and Fastolfe, spores and transporter as top next steps."

Now he frowns. "For my part, I figured briefing the Admiral and Ebling would be pro forma. But Hardin knew Wilson to a degree and seemed to take the news surprisingly hard. Ebling...didn't seem entirely forthcoming." He rubs his chin and then gestures toward Kylah. "Ebling was dodgy about what business they might be doing with Wilson. Maybe there's something to the idea that there's something besides simple renewal going on. That's..." he stops himself. Baby steps, Booker, he thinks. We're having a constructive team discussion. Let' keep it short and sweet and try to get through it with no hiccups, and dive into details after we have a success under our belt.. "That's good thinking, Ensign," he says with a nod to Kylah.

He clears his throat, clasps his hands behind his back, and starts to pace. "But back to the theory of the case--we're still grasping for information, but let's not sell what we know short." He stand still and raises one finger. "One, this doesn't fit a fact pattern for terrorism...this wasn't executed in a way to shock and frighten the local population." He raises another finger. "Two, this wasn't some violent simpleton...the cameras being off, your transporter angle, Rangin....all point to some level of sophistication." He raises a third finger and then lowers his hand. "Finally, less of a slam dunk but still pretty compelling is that this was somehow about Wilson, rather than random. The rumors about him, his special safe..." he nods toward T'Var. "His limp...."

Graham thinks "I really wish I'd pushed harder on the guy for information while he was alive," but is sure that would provoke Rangin's indignation, so he keeps it to himself.

"Anyway, the point being that as far as the announcement goes, I think it's fair to say that there's no reason for anyone to panic and we don't want people to feel like they need to run for the exits." He shrugs. "I realize it may not be what Collins wanted, but what's good for the goose is good for the gander...I didn't recommend to the Admiral that he leave, either." He looks around the room, hating to open up the discussion given how well things have been going. "Does anyone disagree?"

"Makes sense" nods Rangin to Graham's comment. Given how well the meeting was going and, well, how agreeable Graham was being, Rangin was certainly not going to put him off his stride.

"It's a tragedy and we are doing our best to find out what happened. The resort will still be running as normal and we hope to impact you as little as possible. Please enjoy your stay."

"One quick question" , Rangin continued, "do you need all of us to finalise the announcement with Mrs Hsu or would you mind if I went and look at the spore plants now?"

It was admittedly a bit of a test, firstly to see how much control Graham wanted to keep and secondly given that Kylah would have to go as well, he was curious to see her reaction. Then again, there was little Rangin could do there, not to mention Kylah had her own part to play with Mrs Hsy about the messages. It was better that he be elsewhere being able to contribute.

Kylah listens as best she can. She's still not sure what half-memory is trying to make itself known in her overtired brain, but she realizes the harder she tries to pinpoint it, the more elusive it gets. She looks up when Graham finishes. About to speak, she halts herself since Velir is adding his point of view, wishing to look into the spore issue.

"I agree, looking into the spores is vital," she says slowly, still thinking. She forces herself to focus on the matter at hand. "And... should we explore the induction room itself to see if something is amiss or malfunctioning? Perhaps Lt. Delaney might assist in determining whether there is anything wrong with the technical end of things. But then there is also the transporter aspect to deal with, and the security cameras, and..." She frowns and turns to Delaney. "I wonder, sir, would you be helped if there were more Engineering officers at your disposal?"

She belatedly glances back at Graham. "I am sorry, I did not mean to ignore your question. I believe the general idea of the announcement is correct, although if I may suggest, I think letting everyone know that we have increased the security might alleviate some fears as well. Actually... Would it be indiscreet or unwise to add something asking for anyone who might have information to come forward? We would have to phrase it very carefully and make sure that people know how to reach us privately and safely--they must not be afraid to speak up."

Graham finds a chair and sits down--a little heavily, he realizes in retrospect. "No need to apologize, Mr. Kylah," he says, shaking his head.

"I agree with the suggestions on the announcement." He laughs. "And sometimes I forget you're a scientist, Ranging--eager to look at the plants," he says, chuckling.

"Look, we're all tired... let's knock out the highest priority items and then re-group. Mr. Kylah, were'e going to need Mrs. Hsu here before we do the announcement. If you want to try your gambit with her, you have my support, and I or Dobson will provide back-up. Mr. Rangin, it makes sense to let the experts do what they do best. Likewise--Lt. Delaney, if you need more rocket scientists down here, we'll make it happen."

He shrugs. "Now that I've commandeered Mr. Dobson, let's get back to working in pairs. My proposal is that End. Kylah and I deal with the statement and Mrs. Hsu. Rangin and T'Var look at spores and any other biomed phenomena. Delaney - with Dobson if you like - check out the transporter angle."

He exhales. "And then we have a chat with Fastolfe. That's me because we're such good buddies, Kylah because she's a good Communications officer--but also anyone else who wants in."

"That's my take, and I can command it from on high if we need that, but I appreciate the fact that everyone is problem-solving cooperatively, so if someone wants to suggest something different, OK, as long as we get rolling in, say, no more than ten more minutes..."

Kylah waits a moment, wishing she could think of a way to ask this without doing so in front of the others. But her mind is a blank. At last she says in as casual a voice as possible, "Understood, Mr. Graham. But first, may I..." She starts over. "Permission to go to the infirmary, please? For my leg. I am sure it will not take long... I can meet you back here so we can speak to Mrs. Hsu. I do not mean to waste time, but..."

She trails off with a meaningless little shrug. Please, please do not offer to go with me, Kylah thinks, aiming her prayer at--well, anyone who would be likely to offer.

Delaney says to the landing party's new commanding officer, "That sounds like a good plan to me, Mr. Graham."

T'Var nods and says, "I concur. As to your question about WR&R's contract, Ens. Kylah, my understanding is that the company just has the right to build and then run the resort on a year-by-year basis. If they lose their franchise, they are entitled to partial payment for already-incurred construction costs from whichever business entity succeeds them, but the next franchise holder will then have the same exclusive rights to run the resort and profit from guests' paid access to the spores. Those rights have been, as we know, quite lucrative. Starfleet's right to research the spores is assured, however, in any event, and the planet itself remains under Federation ownership. Others might come here for other business or colonization purposes, if permitted by Starfleet, but I presume there is little demand for either due, of course, to the Berthold rays." She meets Kylah's gaze. "May I provide any additional medical treatment for you, Ensign...?"

http://en.memory-alpha.org/wiki/Berthold_ray

After thanking the doctor for the information about the resort, Kylah stares more intently across the table at T'Var. The woman is indeed a Vulcan: she knows what happened last night--at least she certainly implied it before they went to sleep--and she must be aware of Kylah's concerns; yet she is dispassionately pursuing this topic in front of everyone.

Of course, if they were sitting next to each other, Kylah could just touch T'Var's leg beneath the table and tell her telepathically and spare herself the awkwardness. Since that is not the case, she shakes her head. "I appreciate your offer, Doctor," she says carefully. "I may have reinjured the knee from having knelt and stood up injudiciously. I do not wish to waste your time when I can get a thorough examination at the infirmary." She emphasizes the word thorough just slightly, hoping she sounds far less desperate than she is.

Even as she speaks, she thinks with as much force as possible: Do not make me say anything further, Doctor, please do not ask me! In a few very rare instances she has been able to communicate telepathically to others--her mother and her uncle--but only in times of great stress. Kylah hopes T'Var's natural inclination to being receptive to touch telepathy will somehow make it possible for the older woman to understand her now.

Graham curses his--lack of--luck. Almost a conflict-free meeting and now there's some kind of weird dynamic....he thinks. It doesn't help that his concern Kylah is hiding something about her well-being apparently not just from him but from T'Var, and presumably, everyone.

You've only got one immediate option, Booker, which is to order her to tell you what's going on, he thinks. Or you can let it ride--for the moment.

He starts to speak then stops. "We've, ah, all been up for awhile. Anyone who needs a few moments to themselves for whatever reason before getting back to work should feel at liberty to do so." He shifts a little uncomfortably, as he's frustrated by the situation, but keeps his voice neutral. "That includes you, Mr. Kylah--assuming you don't need someone to lean on."

Kylah flings a grateful look toward Graham, although she is somewhat confused by his less-than-enthusiastic agreement. Was he not demanding that I take care of my injury less than ten minutes ago? But she just says, "Thank you, Mr. Graham. I should be able to walk unaided--it is only a slight limp. I will be back as quickly as I can. And it need not even be an entire waste of time; while I am there, I might as well ask whether anyone else has reported that the spore treatment has worn off. It will be useful to know if there have been other complaints."

She pushes her chair back and starts to rise, but then hesitates, flushing a bit. "Oh... I am sorry. Is the meeting adjourned?"

"Nothing else from me," adds Rangin, "Dr T'Var, if you have nothing else shall we just get started looking at the plants?" he says conversationally.

If T'Var does not interject, Graham swings his arms and claps his hands together once. "Right, let's get to it," he says. After a brief pause he adds "thanks everyone."

T'Var shakes her head and rises from her seat.

Delaney says to Dobson, "Come with me, if you please, Mr. Dobson." They walk towards the resort's transporter room.

Kylah makes her way to the Infirmary without too much difficulty. Dr. Halsey is there alone, and welcomes her. "May I help you, Ensign?"

"On your six, sir." Dobson says as she follows Delaney out the door.

Rangin smiles at Dr T'var, and gives her a professional nod. They worked well last time and should hopefully do so again this time round.

As they head out of the door, Rangin starts chatting to Dr T'Var. "Sir, I'd suggest we start the the Introduction Room and possibly take readings from the plants there. I've got the original scans from yesterday morning, so it will be interesting to compare them and see what changes they have. Might also be worth checking with the research station and see what the rate of renewal for plants is as well. Although, we will probably need someone from either security or the medical centre to give us access to them, although with a tricorder, we only really need to get in to the room next door to it."

Slightly taken aback by the fact that no associates--particularly female ones--are present, Kylah hesitates for a moment before speaking. "Yes, doctor. I have... I have two personal medical issues for which I need assistance. Earlier today I injured my knee, and while Dr. T'Var healed it as best she could, I subsequently twisted it again, and it is now hurting me somewhat. I hoped you could take a look to make sure everything is all right."

She pauses again and glances around, just to make sure there is no one else around. "Then there is a more... delicate matter. Last night, I--" Discomfort tightens her throat and she swallows painfully, now focusing her embarrassed gaze on the countertop. Her voice is very soft. "I was--I was with someone. A man. Physically. And I had never--that is to say, I am not on any contraceptives, or have any innoculations against diseases, and I know that means that... I know I need to be checked, but I did not want this on my official Starfleet medical record..."

This must be a dream, it is all a bad dream, she thinks miserably. Her intense need for privacy and her own shameful behavior are a terrible combination, making this necessary conversation almost unbearable. She hurries on. "So I hoped you could help me. Please?"

"So...," Delaney says as they walk. "Tell me about yourself, Mr. Dobson. Where are you from? How long have you been in Starfleet?"

Dr. T'Var says to Rangin, "By all means." The two of you walk the short distance to the Introduction Room, which looks just as it did yesterday. A single WR&R science staffer is there, a young Singaporean woman who introduces herself as Jeanne Nguan.

Dr. Halsey clears his throat and keeps his expression carefully neutral. "Certainly, Ens. Kylah. Starfleet personnel are entitled to free medical checkups here as part of the company's franchise contract, as it happens, and I'm supposed to note such visits, but let's just keep yours... off the books, all right?" He leads her back to an examination room, asks her a dozen questions about her medical history, and attends to her knee, which immediately feels better. He also gives her a full scan, and says at last, "You're not ovulating, and I see no sign of fertilization. There's also no indication that you've been exposed to any sexually transmitted diseases. Some of them have long incubation periods, though, so you should have a followup scan at least two weeks from now. I can give you a broad-spectrum innoculation and contraceptive today, if you like."

"Sir, I grew up in a suburb of Gatineau, north of Ottawa," Dobson tells Delaney. "As a child, I learned to sail on La Rivière des Outaouais. It seemed natural to me to join Starfleet as soon as I was able. I was sworn in 18 months ago. This is my first assignment."

Kylah exhales shakily after Halsey makes his pronouncement. "Yes, I would like anything that will make certain there is no--no reprecussion from what happened. Thank you very much, Dr. Halsey. Although please, I do not wish you to break any rules for me, it would not be right to ask for such a favor. If Starfleet requires a report for free treatment, then treat me as a guest and I will pay for it. Credits are not an issue."

She wraps her arms around her abdomen and looks down at her arms, still awkward but greatly relieved after the doctor's assurance. To take up the time while Halsey prepares whatever he needs--and, really, to get her mind off this whole embarrassing situation--Kylah speaks up.

"By the way, Doctor, I should probably tell you: another of the guests introduced to the spores yesterday has reported that they have worn off. That makes three out of five--Mr. Palver, Admiral Hardin, and Mrs. Calvin. Has such a thing ever happened before? Can you speculate what might have caused this? And have any other guests mentioned that their treatments have worn off?"

Rangin accepts the greetings and responds, "Good morning, I'm Ensign Rangin, this is Dr T'Var," he gestures at his colleague, "and we are here to take a look at the Introduction Room and the plants and spores contained within. It appears that some of the guests who were introduced yesterday have already lost the effect of the spores through no discernible means and as such we want to check the plants over to see if there are any anomalies that can be detected."

Rangin pauses to make sure the young lady has understood him.

"If you need to confirm anything with Mrs Hsu, to allow us access please go ahead and if you have any questions for us, feel free to ask. Also, given that some people are no longer affected by the spores, do you have a list of the people who were due to be introduced today and at what time? Also, would you be able to answer any further questions about the introduction process, if necessary?"

Once the room clears out Graham reaches over his own shoulder and pats himself on the back.

“Way to go, Booker,” he mumbles. “One meeting, no drama, you’re a regular hero.”

He drops heavily into a chair and covers his eyes with his hands.

“I’ve gotten a call like this too.”

Funny thing is, he thinks, it’s not the most painful moment to remember by a long shot. It’s The Talk.

They’d been arguing—when Jane took over xenoarchaeology for the university, juggling his assignments and her trips and trying to arrange one of them to be Earth-side for Lizzy as much as could be managed had ratcheted up the stress level. They’d been together so much less; they could feel themselves drifting apart…

Then on a rare day when they were both in the same place, at the same time, Jane was beaming. “I’ve got a surprise for you…now that the university is fully committed to deep space expeditions, they knows they need a world-class off world security organization. I spoke with the provost – she can’t imagine anyone better than you to lead it.”

Was that the very last time you ever saw her smile? He wonders…as he always does, although-- as always-- he knows the answer.

It hadn’t gone well. Every word replays as if in slow motion high fidelity in his mind as they had a thousand times before. Especially these.

“You want me to solve a problem you caused by doubling down on your career by giving up on mine to become a glorified rent-a-cop? I’m up for lieutenant commander…”

Two weeks later she left on the expedition…THE Expedition…

We parted angry.

You got your promotion.

And then you got the call.

Graham wonders if there’s time to get falling-down drunk before any of the others return.

He’s not sure he would have been able to resist the temptation – fortunately for the sake of the mission’s very short winning streak, for some time he simply can’t muster the will or the strength to move.

In a Sickbay recovery room aboard the Yorktown, Collins awakens to the sensation that someone has been watching her. She turns her head to see Ens. Ben Cooper asleep in a chair by her bed. Jeremi turns her head back and closes her eyes. I don't know what to say to him. He wanted the baby so much. I just hope he's not angry at me.

Cooper shifts slightly in his sleep and exhales. His uniform is wrinkled and she notices that he's kicked his boots off.

Unable to fall back asleep, Collins coughs quietly, hoping that will wake Cooper, and then they can get this inevitable conversation over with.

Cooper stirs, his eyelids flutter, and he awakes. He stretches, looks at her and smiles a little. "Hey... how are you?" he whispers.

"Okay," Collins answers, "I guess. Still a little sore, but better than earlier." She pauses. "I... I'm sorry," is all she can say without getting completely choked up.

He musters a small smile. "Shhh. It's okay. Did the doc tell you what happened? Why it happened, I mean?"

"I didn't ask," she replies. "I was under a lot of stress on this mission. That probably didn't help."

"Of course. I'm so sorry, Jer... for you, for us, for this child. It's just... um. I can't help but think of what might have been. You know?"

"I know," she lies. I know I wasn't ready to be a mother. I know we would have fought about that. I know you should be with someone who wants the same things as you. Jeremi holds her hand out to Ben.

He takes her hand, leans down and kisses it.

"Ben," she begins, "you know I care about you very much. You mean a lot to me." She pauses briefly, trying to read his face, "I just need some time to process this... incident. Could we take a short break?"

He squeezes her hand and releases it, and wryly smiles. "I thought we were already on a break. But if that's what you want, of course, we can... formalize it."

That wasn't a break, you idiot. I was on a mission. Besides, you were pushing way too hard for me to keep the baby. "I just need a couple of days. I'm not giving up on us, I just need to sort out my head." She grabs Ben's hand again and holds tightly.

He squeezes again and says, a little coolly, "OK, if that's what you want." He looks down, then up again. "So... do you need anything? Can I do anything for you while you're here?"

"Thank you, but no. They're taking good care of me. Anyway, I don't expect to be here that long." She finally lets go of Ben's hand. "I'm glad you came by." She gives him a warm smile, then settles herself comfortably and closes her eyes to try and return to sleep.

Cooper stands there for a moment, as if about to say something more, then picks up his boots and slips out of the room.

Delaney asks Dobson, "Why did you sign up for Security? Crazy about the red dress? Or was that not your first choice?"

Dr. Halsey smiles reassuringly at Kylah. "Don't worry, I won't get in any trouble if I don't report your visit." He gives her two hypospray injections, and says, "Spontaneous rejection of the spores by humanoids is very rare. The few cases I've heard of, the data was so fragmentary or conflicting I don't think we can even be sure that's what happened. And for three to happen in a row like that?" He shakes his head. "Hmm. Very strange."

Miss Nguan, in the Introduction Room, says to Rangin and T'Var, "Mrs. Hsu sent out a resort-wide memo this morning, asking everyone to cooperate fully with your investigation. You're welcome to look over or scan any of the Kalomi spore plants we have on hand. They're kept in a secure gastight storage area, through that door. No one was scheduled to be exposed to the spores today. Any other questions you have, I'd be glad to answer."

Kylah absently rubs her arm where the doctor gave her the hypospray. It's a reflexive gesture--there is no pain--but she uses it to take up time while she mulls over Halsey's demeanor. He is so bizarrely... blithe, perhaps? Blasé? ...about a situation involving a procedure he himself oversaw that has gone wrong. This is the main purpose of his job, presiding over the spore introductions, and yet this self-acknowledged 'strange' development seems to have the same effect as telling him the Otherworldly restaurant served hot dogs.

She remembers his similarly anomalous mood after learning of his boss's death. So happy and excited; no trace of regret about another man's death. A man with whom he may have clashed, Kylah thinks, suddenly recalling T'Var's statement about Mrs. Hsu giving Halsey a quick look after claiming no one had argued with Mr. Wilson.

"You are the expert in these matters," she says slowly, focusing on him to try and identify what he might be feeling. "So your opinion means a great deal. You did not notice anything unusual about yesterday's procedure? What about the spores and the... the technology that delivers them to the guests--could something be wrong there?" After a slight pause she decides to go for broke. "I cannot help but notice you do not seem particularly concerned that the whole reason for this resort's popularity may have serious problems. If such prominent guests are upset about losing the benefit of the spores, could it not harm WR&R's reputation?"

"Well, I wasn't there when yesterday's guests were introduced to the spores," Dr. Halsey says. "But no one told me there were any problems afterwards, and I don't know of any. I'll definitely be looking into this further - it is very strange, as I said. If the spores lose their effect with a few people, though, they can just be reintroduced. And miss, you didn't say that anyone was 'upset.'" Kylah senses a surge of irritation and impatience, which the physician tries to mask.

"Sir," Dobson again responds to Delaney, her voice maintaining respect, "since there is no longer a dedicated fighting unit, I chose Security as the next best alternative."

"You are right, Doctor, I did not say the guests were upset. I was positing a hypothetical--one that seems likely, since after all, the spores are the main reason they came to the planet." Kylah realizes it is true: neither Mr. Palver nor Mrs. Calvin seemed especially disconcerted by their having lost the effect of their treatment; she does not know how Hardin took it. And that is strange itself. Why weren't they more upset? She does not mind the doctor's irritation, since she seems to be getting quite good at annoying people lately. Besides, someone upset often says things they may not otherwise.

"Since you are so experienced in this, sir, I wonder... do you think the introduction mechanism or the plants themselves could have been sabotaged in some way? If any guests have connections to WR&R's competitors--or even a staff member who has been approached by such a competitor--would it be possible to sabotage the units?" She pays very close attention to his emotions at this question.

"Many thanks", replies Rangin, "perhaps while I scan them you could answer some questions. Please make sure I don't get a blast of them, I don't think its allowed while on duty," he grins back at her.

Rangin will look to enter the room and scan the area, both for the plants and spores to compare against the readings Rangin made yesterday. He will also be examining the room to make sure it is airtight, secure and that nothing else seems to interfere in this room with the spores interaction."

When he gets a chance he will also ask the following questions politely:
A few questions about the spores -
Do you help out with the introductions here?
What happens to someone after they have been introduced here?
Do you help out with the procedure to remove the spores from a host?
If so, can she show us after we have finished here?

A few questions about WR&R -
What did you think of Mr Wilson?
What is it like working here?
What kind of person was he like to work for?
Do you know of any rumours or anyone who might bear him ill-will?

Delaney asks Dobson, "Fighting, eh? Are you from a military family? Did you consider joining the United Earth armed forces?"

Dr. Halsey seems baffled at Kylah's question. "No, I can't imagine any sabotage of that sort. And your landing party scanned the admiral and the others after their introduction, didn't you? Mr. Wilson told me afterwards that all of them had the usual response to spore exposure."

Rangin can easily scan the spore holding area without exposing himself. Everything seems to be in order. Miss Nguan responds to his questions:

Do you help out with the introductions here? - "Yes, that's my job."
What happens to someone after they have been introduced here? - "After exposure, they're escorted to their quarters to settle in and relax. Our staff observes them on the way and talks to them to make sure they feel all right, and that the spores have taken effect."
Do you help out with the procedure to remove the spores from a host? - "Yes, I do that, too."
If so, can she show us after we have finished here? - "Sure. What would you like to see?"

A few questions about WR&R -
What did you think of Mr. Wilson? - "Well, I didn't have many dealings with him directly, but he seemed like a nice guy and did his best to run the resort according to WR&R's very high standards.."
What is it like working here? - "I like it! It's a good job and I like seeing how happy people become after their introduction to the spores."
What kind of person was he like to work for? - "Mr. Wilson? Just fine, in my limited experience."
Do you know of any rumours or anyone who might bear him ill-will? - She seems shocked at the question. "Not that I've heard of - nothing specific, anyway. Of course you can't be boss of a place like this and not occasionally have to annoy someone."

"I did, Sir," Dobson replies, "But I also wanted the opportunity to experience space travel. The skies were very clear where I grew up. The stars fascinated me. But I didn't have the grades for a degree in astrometrics, so Starfleet won out." Dobson stops walking for a moment, lost in thought, then quickens her pace to catch up with Delaney. "No, not a military family. I think my great great great great aunt was a General during the Third Gulf War, but no one since, until me."

Interesting, Kylah thinks, watching this man whom she cannot fathom. "Of course they had the proper reactions after the introduction, Doctor. But I thought it might be possible for the plants to have been weakened somehow--if they were--let us say, in poor health, withered, sent through a transporter, heated... really, I cannot guess what might alter the concentration of the spores. I do not have much knowledge of science or botany. I was hoping you might offer some ideas. It may very well help us solve Mr. Wilson's murder, since I do not believe this strange situation is a coincidence, just happening to involve three out of five guests who arrived the same day he died. If you do think of something, please let us know?"

Kylah slides off the examination table. "Finally, I truly cannot accept your generous offer. You may not get in trouble, but my conscience will not permit me to benefit from WR&R's arrangement with Starfleet while not adhering to its rules. I will ask Mrs. Hsu to get in touch with you regarding how much I must pay the resort. Thank you again, Dr. Halsey. You have been extremely efficient and above all, sensitive."

While she speaks, her thoughts have been churning with the decision if, or how, to broach one touchy question. By the time she finishes, the answer strikes her.

She holds out her hand for him to shake. "Goodbye, Doctor." Assuming he does indeed shake her hand, she will keep a hold of it while she continues slowly: "I only wish I could think of a way to repay your kindness." Kylah then looks troubled and bites her lip. "Actually, perhaps I can. It might be injudicious but I think you should know..." Her words are very quiet and she focuses as tightly as she can on Halsey's emotions throughout every line she speaks. "There is someone who has... well... strongly implied, in the context of our investigation, that you and Mr. Wilson recently argued. It was not a direct accusation, but the spectre of the disagreement accompanied a description of you as somewhat... happy... despite Mr. Wilson's death." Kylah purses her lips and shakes her head, as if in disbelief. "You can imagine what that led some to believe.

"I fear this talk has raised suspicion, especially since you have not told us of any disagreement. Personally, I do not think it is fair, either to you or to us--a conflict between two colleagues likely means nothing; I have argued with every member of our team at one time or another! But this lingering doubt could distract us from any real leads." She gazes up at him intently, hopefully. "Please, if it is true that you recently argued with Mr. Wilson, even a minor difference of opinion--or indeed, if the person was wrong and in fact you witnessed someone who argued with him--will you tell us? Either me, or perhaps Dr. T'Var?"

Delaney nods. "Thanks. Good to know. I'm from an Earth family too, but grew up on the Heinlein L5 colony. I've always been interested in gadgets and engineering. The Yorktown is my second assignment, after the Ganymede, which was a much smaller ship with a lot of challenges of its own." The two arrive outside of the resort's transporter room, which is off a somewhat out-of-the-way corridor along with a HVAC space, three storage rooms, a laundry and a conference room. The transporter room is locked and no one answers the door chime. Delaney opens his communicator and contacts Mr. Hsu, who says he'll be right there to let you in. After he closes his communicator, Delaney says to Dobson, "You're the Security officer. I'll let you ask the questions."

Dr. Halsey shakes Kylah's hand and lets it go before she can get much of an impression other than thinly-veiled but strong annoyance. "If you want to tell Mrs. Hsu, go ahead. As for Wilson - we didn't always see eye to eye; he didn't think the Infirmary was an especially important part of resort operations. We had argued about it, oh, I don't know, maybe four or five days ago. And our personalities weren't, you know, complimentary. But I never wished him dead, and don't know anyone who would. I certainly wasn't happy to learn of his murder - that's... revolting. I think you'd better leave, Ensign." He turns his back.

Kylah remains doggedly in place. "I did not wish to make you angry, Doctor. I am glad you told me. It is surprising that Mr. Wilson could possibly consider this an inessential part of the resort--the resort would not exist if the spore therapy did not exist; and. as the treatment is a biochemical reaction at its heart, the therapy demands medical supervision. How could he not comprehend that? Well, it is a shame, but I suppose every company can be short-sightedness in one area or another." She softens her voice. "Please let me ask one more question, Dr. Halsey. I want to understand why this person said what he or she did. I agree it is a revolting suggestion, but for some reason, someone did state that this was their impression of you. But no motive was suggested, or even a reason. Can you remember anything that might have given the strong impression that you were excited, or happy, the night Mr. Wilson did?"

"I have nothing more to say to you," the doctor says, his back still turned. "Please go."

Kylah wonders if this is an act. Turning away from her seems a bizarrely childish reaction. She makes a final push toward his mind as she says, "You disappoint me, Dr. Halsey. I thought you a smart man. Instead you are stubborn and unhelpful. If you do not wish to assist the investigation, that is your choice. You are of course not required to respond to these questions, but at some point you might be compelled, and by a more powerful and dangerous questioner than I, in a venue not of your choosing. You have a sympathetic ear here. Were I you, I would have taken advantage of it. If you do change your mind, I hope you will contact me."

She turns to leave, still gauging his emotions, and does not hurry on her way to the door.

Dobson's eyes widen a little and she almost smiles. "Thank you, Sir. I will do my best."

Once Hsu lets them inside, Dobson asks the following questions:

"This room is off the beaten path, so it's not used for guest transport. What does the resort use the transporter for?"
"May we see the logs listing all activity from 2000 last night to 0400 this morning?"
"Who was on duty during those hours?"
"When may we speak to him or her?"
"Who has access to this room besides you and your security staff?"

Rangin nods at the scans, and shares them with Dr T'Var for second confirmation that everything is as it should be. "Ok, everything here looks fine,let's move on to the next area, where the influence is removed", he smiles at Miss NGuan.

As they are walking along, Rangin engages her in conversation, "I'm sorry to have to ask about Mr Wilson, but we have heard some rumours about him and the resort, so we need to see if there is any truth to them. Other than that he seemed to run this place well. Has there been any problems with the guests or staff since you have been here?"

Dr. Halsey says, "I've answered your questions, but I can't be required to tolerate your insults. If I have to ask you again to leave, I will call Security."

Hsu arrives at the transporter room and opens the door. The room is similar to those aboard the Yorktown, although slightly bigger. The transporter platform can accommodate up to eight people; a freestanding control panel faces it. He answers Dobson's questions:

"This room is off the beaten path, so it's not used for guest transport. What does the resort use the transporter for?" - "Actually, it is used for guest transport now and then. Usually guests are beamed down using the transporters of whatever ship brought them here, but sometimes we beam them down with ours. We also use it for cargo transport from ships in orbit, and to beam guests elsewhere on the continent for off-site outdoor activities - caving, climbing, swimming, orbit skydiving and so on."
"May we see the logs listing all activity from 2000 last night to 0400 this morning?" - "Yes, let me bring those up for you." He starts tapping at the control panel.
"Who was on duty during those hours?" - "No one. The room is usually locked and unattended."
"When may we speak to him or her?" - "Several of the security staff, some techs and a couple of the buildings and grounds staff are trained transporter operators. You can speak to anyone you like, of course."
"Who has access to this room besides you and your security staff?" - He thinks. "The director and the deputy director, of course. Oh, and the chief technician. Housekeeping doesn't come in here unless they're accompanied by one of my staff."

In the introduction room Dr. T'Var looks up from her tricorder and says, "All of these readings are consistent with what we learned yesterday. These spores are just as potent as those to which the Vice Admiral and others were exposed."

Miss Nguan nods and leads you to another comfortable reception area just down the hall. Several medium-sized display screens are on the walls. She gestures with her hand and says, "At the end of our visitors' stay, they come here. They watch a movie or play that they've already selected as likely to produce a strong emotional response and thus release them from the effect of the Kalomi spores. If that doesn't work, they'll already have consented in writing either to a dose of epinephrine, or the application of minor physical force such as a slap or light punch." She smiles. "That is rarely necessary."

To Rangin's question about Wilson she frowns and says, "No, not really. Not that I've seen, anyway. I heard of some problem with that musician fellow, but only rumors."

Dobson thanks Hsu and turns her attention to the overnight logs. She lets Delaney takeover the interview as she visually scans the data for any anomalies.

Rangin is surprised that getting rid of the effect of the Kalomi spores is so simple given what the crew of the Enterprise went through to lift the effects.

"Would it be possible to find out what yesterday's introduction group would use to get rid of the Kalomi Spore effect. If not the exact piece at least an idea of what would provoke the correct emotional response. Also how often do people. in the cases where they experience something whether it be an emotional high or even an accident causing a massive adrenaline rush, come for re-introduction?"

"And just out of curiousity, what are the rumours about the musician fellow?"

Mr. Hsu frowns. "What the... dammit! The logs have been wiped. Someone's accessed the database and tampered with it. There's no indication of any transporter use for the past two days."

Miss Nguan says to Rangin, "Those are confidential matters; I'm not allowed to tell you what they had requested as a means of losing the effect of the spores. It's rare that people have to come back for reintroduction during the same stay, though. As to the musician... well, I heard he had an argument with Mr. Wilson as to what guest house he could stay in, and that he pulled a phaser before he was disarmed by resort security."

Kylah has sensed an ongoing wave of irritation and resentment from Dr. Halsey, with an undercurrent of fear.

"Sir," Dobson addresses Delaney, "Can you do anything to retrieve them? or trace the hack?"

A flood of anger rushes through Kylah, who shakes her head. She is getting extremely tired of people assuming she will be cowed by some outside intervention. "Yes, Doctor, I am going. Although I admit a perverse curiosity to see the result of your calling security. One look at the small young woman by your side will make them wonder what need you could possibly have for their services. And what will you tell them? That I insulted you?"

She sighs and looks back at him. "No. You cannot tell me the truth, and you cannot tell it to them, either. You perceive a threat in questions regarding this murder, Dr. Halsey. Whether that threat is the uncovering of your secrets, or those of someone else--someone else whom you fear--I am not certain. But I know you are afraid of something that all the resort's security guards cannot protect you against. And we will learn it eventually. I hope, if you are indeed not the murderer, you will come to me with the truth. Because unlike the guards, I can help."

Turning, she continues her path out of the infirmary and, thanks to her newly healed leg, walks quickly back to where Mr. Graham awaits her. He will be angry with me, Kylah thinks, her pulse continuing to pound in her ears. I do not care. I did nothing wrong. She pauses outside the door, takes a deep breath, and enters.

The door to the CP opens, and Graham, who's been sitting with his eyes shut opens them as Ens. Kylah enters.

For a moment, he still sees his memories rather than her. His face twitches. What the hell must I look like? he thinks at the back of his mind.

It's always as hard to let go of these memories as it is to relive them, he thinks, leaning forward slightly and shaking his head just a little. he wrestles conflicting thoughts back into line. Oh god Jane. Time to get back on the clock...goddammit, Booker, get a grip.

"How's," he clears his throat, and again shakes his head slightly as if to clear cobwebs. He forces his "game face" back on. "How's your leg, Ensign?" he asks, sitting up straight and then using both his legs and his arms to force himself to stand.

Kylah's concerns about the Dr. Halsey conversation dissipate the moment she sees Graham. Something has happened, she thinks. His eyes are so troubled and distant, and his emotions--they are black, almost smothering.

"Healed. I am fine," she says distractedly, walking to him and hugging herself as she searches his gaze to comprehend what could be wrong. She cannot see anything coherent--she cannot actually read minds, only emotions, but when they are powerful enough, she can get... visions. Wisps of ideas. Right now she senses regret and guilt, and it seems to be about... a mission gone wrong. A woman. A mother...? Collins, she guesses, mortified. He has heard she lost the baby. And he blames himself?

Kylah blanches and steps even closer. "Mr. Graham--you must know it was not your fault, you cannot believe yourself responsible. It was..." She thinks of her own mother's miscarriages. "Horrible things happen."

"That's fine, I understand. Oh and for the record, it was a knife and two Starfleet officers who happened to be present while Admiral Hardin was in the room." Rangin replies with a grin.

"Dr T'Var, do you have anything to ask?"

Graham's attempt at regaining his equilibrium is shattered. He rocks back, feeling as if he's been punched in the gut by a Gorn.

"Wha--how did you kn...?" he starts to stammer, then lurches forward, grabbing his colleague by both shoulders. He has no intention of hurting her, but he holds the smaller officer with enough force to lift her slightly off her feet and carry her several steps across the room.

He's never told Elizabeth all the details, for exactly this reason--fear of what she would say. Anger at him, he could deal with: accept, embrace, agree with. But not absolution...and not... He's always wondered: what if Lizzy had said "But I'm glad you're alive." All he could say in reply is: "I'M NOT."

His jaw clenches as tightly as his chest and his hands on her arms. "I...should...have...been there..." he rasps, and then he thinks not about himself but about what it must have been like, to be without help in those last moments:

What's happening...oh, no...

Someone, help...

Please, don't....


He's not sure who he's speaking to: Jane? Elizabeth? Kylah, as he was running toward the hotel the previous night, convinced--rightly or wrongly--that something was wrong. All of his is bound up in the promise that he would have done anything to save... Jane. Mom. You. And he doesn't know what to do now that he's here and didn't have the chance to live (or die) trying.

His shoulders slump slightly and his grip relaxes enough to let Kylah's feet sit fully on the floor. "I should have been there," he whispers, bowing his head.

And I'm sorry, he thinks, but does not say.

The instant Graham lurches toward her, Kylah starts to back away, but his hands clasp her to him, holding her, and now he forces her backward. She is utterly shocked and unable to stop him. The horror and disgust and fear are like a net wrapped around them--she cannot distinguish whose emotions they are, hers or his--or both. She cries his name, asks him to let go, but he doesn't seem to hear her. Or doesn't care.

Terror cluches at her heart as once again, just like on Jan's bed, she is overwhelmed by something too powerful to fight.

But it is not last night. Kylah can defend herself. Shaken from her paralysis, she starts to kick out at him--but then Graham loosens his vise-like grip. At first she thinks he will release her, but no--her back is against the wall and he still looms over her, so much larger than she. His strong fingers still prevent her from moving, pinning her arms to her sides. She cannot reach for her knife, phaser or communicator. What did she do to invoke this? Is the man drunk again, as he was the night of the dinner party?

Gradually Kylah registers some of his whispered words. He should have been there? What does that... what does he mean? Her breath is ragged with alarm. He must somehow be drunk. Or has gone mad.

"Mr. Graham!" she says through her teeth, not recognizing her own voice. Kylah repeats with more force, almost near hysteria herself: "Mr. Graham! You were there. You opened a channel to the ship. Lt. Collins was beamed up thanks to you, at least her life was spared!" She cannot tell if he hears her. Choking with claustrophobia, Kylah pushes desperately forward, hoping to wrest herself free. "Let me go! You must let me go!"

Delaney steps over next to Mr. Hsu and looks at the display screen built into the transporter console. "Try checking the console deep memory files... there. Yes."

Hsu shakes his head in frustration. "No, that's been wiped, too. This is terrible!"

Dr. T'Var says to Rangin and Miss Nguan, "I have no questions of my own, thank you."

"Sir," Dobson says, "With your permission?" She steps to the console, and begins to manipulate the controls and touchpads. "One of my hobbies is computer tech. I've gotten pretty good at some back door hacks."

"Thank you very much for your help Miss Nguan, I don't believe there is anything further."

Rangin wanders a little distance away before pulling out his communicator,

"Rangin to Graham. Just checked the spores and introduction area. Everything is normal here. I'll be going to get the details of last nights rosters for the nightclub next unless you have anything further."

Rangin waits to see if Graham responds with some other menial task that might need accomplishing. Waiter service for the new security members, that kind of thing.

Graham blinks, coming back into the moment very confused. "Collins? Wha--? Oh!" his eyes widen and he quickly drops his hands to his sides and takes a step back.

Of course she's talking about Collins, you idiot, he thinks, his mind spinning. She's not a damn mind-reader.

"I thought...I thought you were talking about something else," he says in a rush. He's mortified he may have hurt her and for a moment starts to reach gingerly for he shoulders--then realizes that probably the last thing in the world she wants is this nutcase standing in front of her to touch her again. He pulls his arms back and collapses in on himself a bit. His right hand shakes a little as he gestures in apology. "I'm--I'm sorry, Ensign."

He clenches his shaky hand into a fist and presses it against his forehead for a moment, standing back up straight. Get it together, Booker.

"Are you--are you all right?" Please, please, please don't let me have hurt her, he repeats mentally as if wishing it would make it so.

Then his communicator beeps, and it occurs to him perhaps it's the supreme being calling to congratulate him on a job well done in command of the mission...

When Graham finally releases her, Kylah stumbles away from him on legs that might as well not have been healed--her bones and muscles are so weak they might as well be made of water. She is wide-eyed with fear and fury. He is in her path toward the door, so she cannot leave, but instinctively she keeps the table between them.

He makes some pretext of explaining himself and apologizing. Kylah vaguely senses his sincerity but she doesn't care. Her left hand grips the edge of one of the chairs for balance while the other reaches instinctively for her knife.

Are you all right? he asks, and Kylah is about to blast out her anger when his communicator goes off. She tries to hold back tears. In less than twenty-four hours, four men have tried with varying degrees of success to control her physically or verbally. Why does this keep happening? Why do men think she is some mere object they can force or break?

Kylah stands--barely--trembling and mute. And ready to pull her knife if he attempts to come near her again.

Noticing Kylah's lack of a reply, Graham opens his mouth again as if to speak, then shuts it, realizing he has no idea what to say.

He shuffles backwards another half-step away from her. Graham opens his communicator and manages to process Rangin's message. He clears his throat. "Ah, good. No, nothing...nothing from me. Ens, Kylah is...." he pauses. Freaked out she's alone with an armed lunatic? "...Ah, back. Her leg is better."

Miss Nguan nods and turns back to her work after saying, "If there's anything else you need, please let me know."

Dobson confirms what Hsu and Delaney already found - both the transporter-use active records and deep memory have been completely cleared. It's almost as if the transporter didn't exist for the past two days, through 0500 this morning; the records before that time appear to be intact. She checks the authorization log to see who erased the data, and is not especially surprised to see that the log, too, has been wiped. She knows it would take a relatively skilled computer expert to do that.

Rangin listens to Graham over the communicator not really sounding like himself. Surely command can't be getting to him that fast could it?

"That's good to hear", comes the slow and unsure reply from Rangin, "In which case, I'll see both of you in the admin offices in a couple of minutes or so with Dr T'Var then. Rangin out." he says with slightly more purpose, curious as to what is going on. Rangin would have to find out from Kylah shortly.

Rangin looks across at Dr T'Var knowing she can hear the conversation looking to see if she shows any sign of concern, unlikely though it may be.

"Let's go find a roster." Rangin says to the Vulcan, heading towards the offices.

Who is he talking to? Is it Velir? Kylah is suddenly flooded with the need to see Velir Rangin's kind face, to feel his calming presence. When the conversation is clearly over, she does not wait for Graham to return his communicator to his belt before blurting: "How dare you treat me like that?! I will not be manhandled, I will not be used as some--some sort of vicarious target of whatever violent madness lies inside you. Do not ever grab at me again!"

"I--" Graham starts to reply, then stops. He bows his head and instead of putting his communicator away lays it on the table. Then he pulls out his phaser and does the same. "Of course," he says softly. "If you don't want to serve under my command, I'll relieve myself of duty."

He stands up straighter. "I won't...dispute any charges either," he says more steadily, feeling a curious sort of certitude: it's obvious to him that Kylah has the right to whatever next steps enable her to feel comfortable on the mission and on the ship. Given his record it's probably a one-way ticket back to crap assignments, but the right thing to do is so obvious he can't help but be resigned to it. Except for one thing that's tearing at him.

"But...just...before that," he says earnestly. "Please - did I hurt you? Are you...injured, at all?"

"I'm sorry, Sir." Dobson says, "I was unable to retrieve any data. Shall I call in to Ensign Graham?"

Graham's mood change and words leave Kylah unable to gather her thoughts for a few seconds. She blinks away tears and stares at him. "What? I--no, I--am bruised, maybe, but not anything..." Seeing his communicator on the table, Kylah shakes her head in a combination of weariness and irritation. In truth, she feels manipulated. "Pick that up, Mr. Graham," she says hoarsely. "Please. I will not be the cause of... you do not have to resign. I would look worse than you. I would be blamed. I know how I am seen by others."

She takes a deep breath and presses the heel of her hand into her eyes. "We are all tired. I do not pretend to know what you thought I meant, what you may have misheard from me. You were inappropriate and--I was scared. But if you think I would charge you with anything... all you did was frighten me, it is not close to a crime." Her voice cracks and lowers to a whisper. "I wish I could charge someone, but I cannot, because it is my fault."

A fresh outpouring of hot tears makes her blink and sweep them angrily away with her hand, which then falls to her side. "This has been a horrible day. I just want to do my job and get off this revolting planet. Please, let us find Mrs. Hsu and get that announcement over with."

Graham clears his throat and after a moment grabs his gear. "Well...you're right it's been a horrible day," he says. "You're not right about anybody blaming you--not if I had anything to say about it," he says with more of his normal force.

But then he shrugs and scratches his head - he smiles wanly. "But yeah, how the hell would that work in a situation like this, right?"

He takes and exhales a deep breath. "OK let's get back to it - I...talk is cheap, probably even cheaper coming from me at the moment, so I won't belabor the point." He shakes his head. "But--you didn't deserve that, Ensign. I...well," he taps his chest with a finger. "My problem, my fault."

He gives Kylah a lot of space between him and her as he gestures toward the door and flips open his communicator. "Graham to Mrs. Hsu--are you able to meet us in the administrative offices?"

Delaney leans on his knuckles on the transporter console. He doesn't answer Dobson directly but says, a little tensely, "There must be some other way to come at this. Let me think."

Rangin and T'Var arrive in the resort's administrative offices, just off the main lobby and behind the wide front desk. An aide shows them to Mrs. Hsu's office. The door opens, and she looks up from her desk, smiles and taps a comm key. "I'm here now, Mr. Graham. Two of your party have just arrived, as well."

It is now 1255 hours.

"Wouldn't there be," Dobson says tentatively "some sort of bio residue on the pads?"

While Graham contacts Mrs. Hsu, Kylah takes a wide berth around him to escape the room and reach the corridor. Once there, she gives a shuddering sigh, trying to get herself together. After a few seconds of thought, she lifts her communicator. "Kylah to Rangin," she says quietly, sidling farther from the CP with a nervous glance backward. "I--I am going with Mr. Graham to see Mrs. Hsu now. I wanted you to know, in case--" In case what? What do you think Graham will do? What can Velir do?

She moistens her lips and realizes how futile this attempt to contact Velir is, how weak she is acting. The truth is, she just wants to hear him. That is not a good enough reason to interrupt him during a mission. Kylah shakes and lowers her head, embarrassed. "No, never mind, I should not have bothered you."

"Hello Mrs Hsu, how are you bearing up?" Rangin asks the lady behind the desk shortly before his communicator beeps. He sighs, it had been a day of interruptions. "Please excuse me," he apologises as he steps to one side.

Rangin listens to Kylah's worried and hushed voice before responding. "In case of what? Kylah, what's happened and yes, I would rather be bothered and it be a mistake than not be bothered and it be a problem. Now, I am currently with Mrs Hsu and Dr T'var, so I will be here for a while. We were expecting both of you shortly. Don't be too long and if there is a problem, tell us..."

Rangin takes a deep breath, "...and if there is a problem with Graham better to deal with it now than later. See you in a couple of minutes."

Rangin looks across worriedly at T'var knowing she would have been able to hear his side of the conversation before turning back to Mrs Hsu with a smile again.

"Where were we, oh yes, would it be possible to get a copy of last night's roster for the nightclub? We think it might help provide some alibis for some people from the staff on duty."

"Could be," Delaney says. "I'll scan for that." He unlimbers out his tricorder and scans the platform but finds no biosigns. "Not surprising, really," he says as he clicks the scanner hood shut. "If they wore shoes and didn't touch bare skin on the platform, they probably wouldn't leave any biosigns behind. Also, each subsequent cycle of the transporter would remove any DNA, skin flakes, tissue, etc."

Mrs. Hsu says, "Sure." She turns to her computer and taps a few keys, then transfers the data to Rangin's tricorder. There are 27 people on the list - cooks, kitchen staff, bartenders, servers and entertainers. Rangin does not recognize any individual names.

Graham acknowledges Hsu's response, half-mumbling "we're on our way."

He rubs his head. "All you did was frighten me." He winces--you've been worried about her all day and you're making things worse, not better, dammit.

He makes sure to leave a decent amount of distance between himself and Kylah as he heads toward the admin offices.

Kylah hears both Velir's voice and Graham's footsteps simultaneously, and she says a hurried goodbye to Velir before snapping her communicator shut. She keeps it close to her stomach, holding it with both hands clasped around it as if in prayer. Not waiting for Graham--she knows his longer stride will catch up with her eventually--she walks quickly to their destination.

Graham does not catch up with her. She is aware of every footstep behind her, however, and he seems to have slowed his pace to avoid her. Slightly relieved, Kylah reaches the office area, sees the aide, and in a still-shaky voice, says, "Good afternoon. Ensign Grahams and Kylah of the Yorktown to see Mrs. Hsu, please. We are expected."

"If they'd cut the power," Dobson is still tentative "Couldn't we track that somehow? They probably wore gloves, but maybe we should scan for fingerprints on and around the power couplings"

Rangin looks down the list with a slight sinking feeling. "Ok, interviewing them all in a short space of time is not really going to be possible and to be honest most of these people are only just getting up if they have done a night shift."

He thinks for a moment before smiling with an idea, "I may need to confirm this with Ensign Graham, and to beg both you and your staff's indulgence, but it might be better to take statements from each of them just outlining their activities yesterday evening, who they interacted with, who they saw and then interviewing any which look to be of interest. It would mean asking them for an hour or two of their time to put it together but it would be a far easier starting point to read through 27 statements mthan to have to spend at least 30 minutes with each of them."

Rangin looks back across at Mrs Hsu and nods to her, "Would that be acceptable?"

"He, she, they or it didn't cut the power," Delaney explains, "but just wiped the records. Hmm. The power... the power... let me see...." He inputs a new series of commands into the transporter console. Mr. Hsu looks on with interest.

Mrs. Hsu says to Rangin, "I don't see why not. Would you want to have your people take those statements, or mine? Or some combination?"

Graham and Kylah then arrive, shown in by Mrs. Hsu's aide.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Hsu," Kylah says, politely nodding to the temporary administrator. But her gaze switches almost immediately to Velir, and before she even knows what she is doing, she's taken three steps toward him. Then she halts, awkward; she cannot just make a beeline for Velir in front of others.

With difficulty she breaks her intense stare at Velir to flick a glance of silent greeting at Dr. T'Var. A conundrum lies before her: how does she act as if she is not afraid of Graham while managing to avoid him completely? Kylah decides to stand beside Mrs. Hsu. "Please continue," she murmurs, then lifts a shoulder in Graham's direction--the closest she's willing to get to looking at him right now. "We did not mean to interrupt."

Dobson also watches Delaney, and a thought occurs to her "Power fluctuations! You're looking for usage!"

Graham can't help but frown noticing Kylah's body language: she's clearly not comfortable around him now, it's all his fault, and he has no idea how to fix it...

He winces: remind you of another young woman you tried to take care of, Booker? At least Ens. Kylah just thinks I'm a failed officer, not a failed father...

He clears his throat. "Right. You were discussing something, Mrs. Hsu, Mr. Rangin?"

Delaney snaps his fingers and points at Dobson. "Exactly! Even if we don't know by whom or why the transporter was used, we can still see when it drew power from the resort's fusion plant." He taps additional keys and accesses the power-consumption log. "Unless it was wiped... no! Whoever it was didn't think to do that. OK. Let's see...." Dobson and Mr. Hsu lean in. "Wow. Looks like it was used seven times this morning, between 0137 and 0151."

"Yes," Mrs. Hsu says to Graham, "Mr. Rangin was just talking about taking statements from the nightclub staff. The roster shows we had 27 working at Starfire last night."

"Seven times?" Dobson repeats, then tries to reason it out. "One - into Wilson's office; Two - beam dead body to park; Three - beam out to safe destination.' She pauses. "But what about the other four?"

"Indeed", says Rangin with a warm smile and a nod to Kylah before he takes a look across at Graham to see what kind of state he is in and it's not looking too pleasant. If Kylah was looking nervous and anxious to be as far from Graham as possible, Graham was looking slightly downcast, a far cry from his mood earlier. Something had happened between them and it was likely that if he could see it, then Dr T'Var certainly should be able to as well.

Rangin continues on. "The general idea would not be to try and interview all 27 of them, but to try and get them to submit statements about their duties last night. If anything catches our eye we can follow it up. It would probably be worth having one of our team and one of Mrs Hsu's staff to co-ordinate taking the statements but that can take a couple of hours for all of them", he looks back across at Mrs Hsu, "perhaps if there is an empty conference room that could be used? It would make life easier."

Rangin looks across at Graham, "Perhaps Crewman Markovitch would be the best option? It's not the greatest job, but certainly would be valuable, not to mention he's probably more trained in that area that some of us, not to mention, I've just thought of another task I should be doing. Regardless, what do you think? "

Rangin waits to see his reaction whether that be positive, negative or just distracted. he glances at Kylah to see how she is doing and finds he has slowly walked around to be between the two ladies and Graham while speaking.

Graham sighs, feeling like a heavy cruiser decided to dry dock on top of his head.

Nonetheless he is encouraged by Rangin's suggestion: this is how a team's supposed to work, he thinks, people taking initiative, coming up with ideas on how to solve problems rather than arguing about them... Although he's conversely deeply discouraged by the fact that he seems to have become a weak link, however--at least as far as Kylah is concerned.

"That's a..." he forces himself to perk up a little. "That's good thinking, Mr. Rangin." He nods and smiles grimly. "If Markovitch has good sense he'll appreciate a job that sounds boring is better than one that sounds heroic but might get you killed." He shrugs. "Doing up the forms nicely to say 'By signing here you attest under penalty of perjury and criminal sanction' can be effective. Of course, none of us here have the authority to make that legally binding - but most people won't know that." He pauses for a moment, considering who he's speaking to.

"But if you're...not comfortable with that, I leave it to your discretion to have Markovitch include that or not. It's your good idea, Ensign, make it so as you see fit."

Graham's concerned that rather than sounding crisp and in command instead he sounds like a depression case trying to sound crisp and in command, but at the moment that was the best effort he could muster.

Kylah tries to rein in her distracted thoughts so she can pay careful attention to what the others are saying about the nightclub. While she listens to Velir's idea, she notices that he is walking casually toward her, ending up between her and Graham. Having him next to her allows Kylah to relax her vigilance--which she knows is excessive, since Graham is hardly likely to repeat his performance in here. If at all.

After Graham approves the proposal, Kylah feels a little swell of pride for Velir. She contains her smile but gives an infinitesimal nod, and then says softly, "Mrs. Hsu, forgive me if this has been asked before and I have forgotten. But are there any other venues that are open past midnight? Any other staff members who might have been on duty--or coming off duty--that late? Staff involved in room service, for example? If so, perhaps they should be included as well."

The Security crewman's name is "Markovich."

"That's a good question," Delaney says to Dobson. "I'm not sure how we could figure that out. The transporter uses pretty much the same energy regardless of how far or near something is being beamed."

T'Var says to Graham, "We could probably be assisted by the Starfleet Judge Advocate back on Starbase 27 if any interrogation or witness statement forms need to be prepared."

Mrs. Hsu answers Kylah, "All of our restaurants close at midnight, as does room service, but of course they have to clean up before their shift ends. Otherwise, other than those at the nightclub, security staff and the front desk clerk, no one else works after midnight."

Mea Culpa

"I'll contact Starbase 27 and ask for advice.", Rangin says with a nod to Dr T'Var. "They may even be able to send a pro forma we can use." he turns back to Mrs Hsu. "If you make those staff aware this will be coming I would be grateful and if you could let me know which staff you would like to help out, I can brief them at the same time as Crewman Markovich. Hopefully that won't be too long."

He looks around the room at all, "Ah well, guess I had better get on with it." He nods to Kylah and Mrs Hsu, "if you will excuse me." Rangin turns round. "Dr T'Var, I wouldn't want to bother you with the paperwork, but if you need me for anything, I should be available."

He looks across at Graham and steps forward, and drops his voice to a quiet tone for him too hear. "One, when I've got the request out, I'm going to swing by Wilson's suite and check the back exit. It's one of the few places we haven't scanned. Two..." Rangin glances back at Kylah, before looking back at Graham, who at this close range looks drawn, and with a more worried tone, "...I'd suggest taking a break and clearing your head. Until later."

Rangin heads for the door.

Kylah watches Rangin leave with a sinking feeling, but her thoughts seem able to rally enough to focus on the job at hand. "Mr. Rangin, wait, please?" She turns back to Mrs. Hsu. "Have the staff been informed of Mr. Wilson's death yet? I just thought--if they do not know, Ensign Rangin will inadvertently be spreading the news by asking them to sign statements. Perhaps you should make the announcement first, letting them process it for a few moments, before we ask them to explain their whereabouts and what they might have seen."

Kylah sends an apologetic gaze to Rangin. "Not that I think you would be anything less than tactful about revealing their boss's death, but... you understand me, I am sure? I just wanted to give Mrs. Hsu the opportunity to be the one to share the unfortunate news with her employees--and also encourage them to be full and frank with us in order to solve the crime."

Graham nods in response to T'Var's comment. "Fair point, Doc, no need to...ah, improvise...when we have access to the right resources."

He's a little taken aback by Rangin's tone because it seems authentically concerned rather than sarcastic or sardonic. His eyes widen slightly, and he manages a reasonably appreciative nod in response.

Nonetheless he's still not entirely on his game and he physically lurches forward a step when Kylah's comments register. "Uh, yes, that's why we're here. It won't be long before the cat's out of the bag on last night's events, Mrs. Hsu. We'd like to make some public statements - you to staff." He spreads his hands. "You or me to the resort in general. Basic point is that this tragic event occurred, but we don't believe it was a random event and there is no cause for panic--Starfleet is conducting an investigation and Starfleet personnel are on the ground, folks should share any information, however trivial it might seem." He shrugs and spreads his hands. "Generally I'd say the lead investigator ought to do it, but I recognize this is a private resort and you're in a position of responsibility - as long as you're willing to align with the message that we believe will further the investigation I don't see a need to force the issue either way."

Mrs. Hsu says soberly, "I've told some top staff about Mr. Wilson's... passing, but have asked them to keep it to themselves. I'm no wordsmith. If any of you would like to draft a statement - I suppose it can be for both staff and guests - I'd be glad to have a look. Do any of you have a communications background?"

With a slight flush, Kylah nods. "Yes, that is my background. I will do my best. I expect you will wish to make the announcements slightly different for the staff and the guests. If you wish to, please do not hesitate to make this more appropriate to your own way of speaking. News such as this will be difficult enough to impart, much less hear, if it does not feel natural."

She asks Mrs. Hsu if she may sit at the computer; assuming the older woman allows her to, Kylah will be seated so that she can type the words into a new file.

Before she begins, she turns to Velir, although her words are really aimed at Graham. "Please let me know if anything needs to be reworded more tactfully, or if I forget anything." Looking back at the monitor, she murmurs thoughtfully, "Start by greeting them however you naturally would. Then, I would say something such as... 'It is my sad duty to let you know that Anthony Wilson, our administrator, has passed away under tragic circumstances. He was found early this morning, the victim of a suspected homicide. His is a loss that will be deeply felt by all of us who knew him. If you wish to express your sympathy to his friends and family, I will give you the information at a later date.'

"'I wish to assure you that our security staff team is on high alert, and members of Starfleet, who were already here on a routine inspection, are also on hand--you may have already noticed their increased presence throughout the resort. There is no evidence that anyone else is in danger--'" Kylah hesitates, then says quickly to Mrs. Hsu, "Here I would say, to your staff: '--and we ask that you do your best to maintain a calm and reassuring demeanor in front of our guests.' To the guests, I would change this to: '--and we hope you will remain calm and continue to enjoy the resort's amenities as usual.'"

Kylah rereads what she has just written, and then continues. "'Both Starfleet Security and our own security team will be in charge of ensuring the safety of guests and staff alike. Currently there is no need to restrict your movements or curtail regular activities. However, it would be irresponsible to ignore that there has been a violent death in our midst. Everyone is advised to act with all reasonable caution.'

"'Several Starfleet officers are in charge of investigating the crime, and they will be assisted by Mr. Hsu, our own Security Chief. These personnel will need your assistance. Please be advised that while all Federation legal regulations will be upheld, and you have the right to refuse to answer any questions, your help will be vital, and as the temporary administrator of WR&R, I personally request that you cooperate fully and frankly with them in their investigation.'"

Kylah looks up at Mrs. Hsu. "Of course, that sentence would be for staff only. For guests, I would change everything from 'I personally request' to 'Starfleet and WR&R hope all guests will cooperate with the investigation as fully and frankly as possible.'"

She returns to typing. "Finally, if anyone has any information, possibly something you have seen or heard, that might be connected to this crime, the Starfleet officers encourage you to come forward. Following this announcement I will send you their names and contact data so that you may reach them confidentially and without fear of anyone else learning that you have done so." Again Kylah looks up. "For the guests, I would finish with something like... 'WR&R deeply regrets that a tragedy like this has occurred during what should have been a sublimely peaceful rest and retreat. We will do everything possible to make sure your stay is uninterrupted and that the investigation is as unintrusive as possible.'"

After a moment Kylah sits back, scanning the words she has written with a critical eye. She then turns in Graham's general direction, her glance barely grazing his chest. "Have I left anything out, Mr. Graham? Does anything need to be reworded?"

Graham takes a deep breath, as even he can sense Kylah's discomfort. Well if there's no way out and now way back, all you can do is go forward, he thinks. He shuts his eyes for a moment and tries to forget the previous events and focus on her work at the moment--which is excellent. You're the mission commander, Booker, she's part of your team--this is something, at least, you've done before, successfully...

"It's excellent work, Mr. Kylah," he says, with more assurance but still softly. "If you would change this one line from 'However, it would be irresponsible to ignore that there has been a violent death in our midst' to 'However, it would be irresponsible to ignore that a crime has been committed in our midst' it has my full approval."

He pauses for a moment, then adds "If I ever teach at the Academy again, I just may use it as an example of why Security ought to turn to Comms experts for things like this, rather than presuming to do it all ourselves--with your permission, of course."

As Graham suggests the new wording, Kylah nods and quickly edits the section to suit his recommendation. She finishes and digests his compliments for a moment. "Thank you, sir, that is kind of you," she says with formal politeness, aiming the words at the monitor. She knows the 'sir' may not be strictly required but since he is the mission commander, it seems appropriate. Without a pause, she turns to the older woman nearby. "Mrs. Hsu, are you comfortable with this? Does anyone else have suggestions? If not, I wonder how you will be making this announcement, particularly to the staff. Will you ask them to assemble in a conference room, or send a broadcast to their communicators...?"

Mrs. Hsu says, "That text looks good, with the change that Mr. Graham suggested." She looks around the room, and then takes out her datapad. "If there are no other suggested changes, I'll see that the different versions are posted to the comm accounts of staff and guests, as appropriate. Thank you, Ens. Kylah, Ens. Graham."

Rangin listens to Kylah and is impressed by what he hears. "Nothing to change from me", he says quietly, "the only thing that might require thought is if we wanted to have a single point of contact for anyone who has information and wants to pass it on."

He gives her a proud smile, trying to let her know what he thinks.

"I had best be on my way. Nice work Ens. Kylah." Rangin heads once again for the door.

"Thank you," Kylah says again, more softly, as Velir leaves. She looks down at the monitor, wishing she could just face Graham rather than feel like a skittish fawn around him. "What do you think about Mr. Rangin's suggestion, Mr. Graham? Should we just include one contact? The only reason I thought of including additional names was the possibility that while many would feel perfectly comfortable speaking to someone in Security, others might not. Especially if they themselves were somehow involved. But of course, Mrs. Hsu should include whatever you think best."

Kylah switches focus to the office in general, taking a somewhat disinterested inventory of the items on the desk and surroundings. It occurs to her that she really needs to tell Dr. T'Var and Graham about her conversation with Halsey, and sooner or later she'll have to make her move regarding asking Mrs. Hsu to speak in private.

At least I have a legitimate personal reason to speak to her, she thinks, remembering her desire to pay for her medical examination rather than accept the free exam as a Starfleet officer without the attendant paperwork. She didn't think much of it at the time, but it does seem strange that Halsey was so willing to break a rule for her. Pure helpfulness, or an attempt to curry favor? She is getting suspicious of everyone here.

Graham rubs his chin. "We should identify me by name as leading the investigation for Starfleet. Doesn't preclude folks talking to anybody else, but for those who want a face and a name..." He clenches his teeth. "I'll have that many more chances to win friends and influence people," he says quietly, mentally grimacing.

He's reminded of the joke he made to Kylah onboard: "I don't bite." No, he thinks, I just flip out and push you around and scare the hell out of you...

"I--am bruised, maybe, but not anything... all you did was frighten me, it is not close to a crime."

Graham's eyes widen involuntarily. Son of a bitch.... He's been convincing himself that whatever happened last night was harmless--but given her reaction to his behavior he's not so sure...

Rangin leaves the office and heads back to the Command Post. He hopes that Kylah is alright, but in the office with the others around, she should be safe, but he still cannot shake the little gnawing sense of concern from her last communication. He hopes that Dr T'Var is also paying close attention to Graham, but there was nothing Rangin could do about that.

Once at the Command Post, he contacts the USS Yorktown about the request for legal advice from Starbase 27 to try and get the correct legal wording for these statements, if the Yorktown doesn't already have it.

Next he contacts Crewman Markovitch. "Ensign Rangin to Crewman Markovich, please join me at Mr Wilson's suite on the 4th floor. I have a details of some new tasks you have been assigned to and also require backup for some exploratory work. Rangin out."

Then he heads off to the suite.

Mrs. Hsu says, "We can list both Mr. Graham and me as possible contacts at the end of the message. Those with questions about the resort and how it will deal with the... with Mr. Wilson's death can contact me; those with questions or information about the investigation can contact Mr. Graham. Would that be all right?"

Cmdr. Vargas speaks with Rangin from the ship, and says, "I'll ask the Starbase's Judge Advocate for suggested forms. It won't be long, by subspace."

Crewman Markovich replies to Rangin, "Understood, sir. On my way."

Rangin arrives in Wilson's suite. It looks unchanged, except for Delaney's tricorder set up near the hidden wall safe, still trying to crack the code and open it. Markovich arrives just a minute or so later.

Rangin looks up from where he has been looking around the suite making sure it was still undisturbed. "Afternoon Crewman Markovich, good to see you again, at ease, relax and so on. You are probably wondering why you are here, well I have two tasks for you. The first is as backup while we check out the back entrance to this suite. The second task is to assist in taking evidence statements from several of the staff here. I'm sorry to say though its not interrogation, but assisting them to write down their personal POV from last night. It may not be, actually it wont be, the most stimulating task to do, but the information they could provide may prove vital in any case here."

Rangin looks across at the crewman to make sure he has understood, before continuing, "but first, we need to examine the passage way that leads to the back. We need to find out when it was last used and by whom...and hope that it isn't in the general roster for cleaning being a service passage. If you have any questions, feel free to ask while we are scanning. Ready?"

Rangin heads to the back door to open it into the corridor beyond and start scanning.

Kylah gnaws on her lower lip for a few seconds in thought. She cannot imagine Graham as a suitable contact for potential witnesses. Considering his own description at the dinner party of his violent on-duty behavior during an interrogation, his aggressively producing that knife to scare poor Mr. Wilson yesterday, and his sudden display of physical force in their own encounter moments ago... Who knows how he might act to some nervous informant? Kylah knows she herself is no model of stability, but Mr. Graham is unpredictable in an entirely different, very frightenng way.

She swallows and looks up at T'Var. "Perhaps... perhaps, Mr. Graham, we could add Dr. T'Var's name as well, with her permission, of course? I just think it might be valuable to offer an alternate Starfleet contact point--just in case you are busy, or if someone feels more comfortable with..." Kylah finally turns to face Graham, and her eyes try to convey her true concern, even as she finishes, "...With a doctor, rather than a security officer."

Returning her attention to the Vulcan, Kylah adds, "I do not know where you are next headed, Doctor, but I need to brief you--and Mr. Graham--regarding one of my interviews. When we are finished with the announcement, may we speak alone for a moment?"

Markovich nods. "Of course, sir," he says. Rangin's sees that the service hallway along and on the other side of the rear wall of the suite is dusty and poorly-lit. There are, however, footprints on the dusty floor. What does he scan for?

Dr. T'Var raises an eyebrow and says, "I would be willing to be listed as a contact, if Mr. Graham wishes. And I will meet with you whenever it is convenient, Mr. Kylah."

Rangin looks at the dusty passageway with a smile. "Looks like we have something here to examine. Markovich, you get scans of those footprints, work out how many we have and which belong to Mr Wilson. Also, if possible, when they were made and in which direction they go."

Rangin studies the scene in front of him further. "I will see if there are any biological signs present. Handprints on the wall, any scattered hairs, that sort of thing."

"Once that is done, we can take a look at the corridor beyond."

Rangin starts to scan with his tricorder.

"I don't think that..." Will be necessary, Graham starts to say, but stops. In most of the previous investigations you've led, your Comms officer didn't have quite as much reason to think you were a head case, he thinks.

He clears his throat, once again irritated with himself but trying not to show it. "Ah, that will be fine," he says. "With all the weirdness with the spores, it wouldn't hurt to have an M.D. identified as someone to speak to." His shoulders slump a little and he exhales a deep breath. "And a male Security officer might not be the...most approachable figure...for some."

"All right," says Mrs. Hsu, making a note. "I'll see that it's done."

Markovich counts 33 or 34 footprints - it's a little hard to tell, some are so scuffed - going both ways. It is impossible to determine when they were made, but it might have been over quite awhile, judging by the relative thickness of the dust. All appear to be from the same-size shoe, although not identical shoes. Rangin accesses the crime-scene records and sees that it's the same size, 11, Federation standard humanoid, that Wilson wore. Rangin finds no handprints, DNA, hair or other trace evidence in the narrow service hallway.

"Thank you," Kylah says in a low voice, aiming her gratitude to both Mrs. Hsu and especially Graham. Focusing now on Mrs. Hsu, she adds gently, "I know this is difficult and I am sure your staff and guests will appreciate all you are doing to both inform and reassure them. Now if you will please excuse us, we will be back shortly."

She moves to the door and casts a quick look at T'Var, and an even briefer one at Graham. "My report will just take a moment."

When she walks out of the office, she searches for someplace private--she does not want the aide to hear the conversation. If there is anyplace where they will not be heard, she will lead the others--assuming they follow her outside--and wait until she has their attention.

"Ok, let's see where these footprints lead us, if indeed they are all going in the same direction."

While they follow the footprints, Rangin begins to wonder how Mr Wilson managed to get anyone into and out of his room without either leaving footprints here or being noticed by cameras in the main hall. Well, unless he transported them in, but that would be tricky. You would have to know the precise co-ordinates unless...you had something that could act as a beacon, perhaps remote controlled like the one in the safe...and if the main transporter was the same.

Rangin pulls out his communicator to Lt. Delaney. "Ens. Rangin to Lt. Delaney. Sir, if you are at the transporter, can you determine if there is any remote control accessing the transporter,either software or hardware?"

The service corridor goes 15 meters, turns left and goes another 20 meters. Pipes run at eye level along its entire length. The corridor ends at a door on the right side.

After a few moments Delaney says, "I don't see any remote control function, either software or hardware. But it has a subspace communications link and the resort intercom built into the control console, and I suppose a skilled enough technician could establish remote control, if he or she had enough time."

Dr. T'Var follows Kylah out of Mrs. Hsu's office. To who else did she wish to speak?

Kylah nods at Dr. T'Var and waits for Graham before saying anything of consequence, although she does ask, "I hope you are holding up well, Doctor. Although you do seem physically unaffected by the circumstances. Even with so little sleep and..." She lowers her voice out of courtesy to Mrs. Hsu: "...and a long autopsy... I envy your constitution."




EH: See the last paragraph in post #2300. Kylah said she wanted to brief Graham and T'Var.

Graham gives Kylah and T'Var a head start--they seemed close...in some way...and he hopes the younger officer might be more ope with the doctor.

After a moment he excuses himself from Mrs. Hsu and follows them out.

When Graham arrives, Kylah glances at the office door to make sure it has shut. When satisfied, she says: "I am sorry to have pulled you away, but I thought it best to report sooner rather than later. And Dr. T'Var needed to be here because it involves Dr. Halsey; I thought you might wish to follow up on what i am about to report, since you worked with him longest and perhaps might have better luck than I did.

"When I went to the infirmary earlier, I took the opportunity to ask Dr. Halsey some questions once he had... attended to me." She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, awkward at the omission. Briefly she explains her questions about the spores having lost effectiveness, adding the doctor's curious lack of concern about the whole matter.

She continues: "Then I proceeded to the more difficult issues. I should say that I prefaced the questions by thanking him for helping me, and claiming that due to my gratitude, I wished to let him know..." She says the next words very quickly: "...That someone had implied that he had recently argued with Mr. Wilson. And that he seemed in a happy, excited mood after we learned of Mr. Wilson's death."

Swallowing, she hastens to add that she did not mention Dr. T'Var or Mrs. Hsu's names. "...Anyway, I asked him as delicately as possible whether this was true. I even stated that I understood colleagues have arguments all the time, and I thought he might wish to acknowledge whatever might have happened, if only so that the investigators might not get distracted by a standard petty squabble.

"He grew a bit defensive and irritated, and said only that Mr. Wilson did not appreciate the importance of the infirmary at the resort. I tried to get him to clarify, but he would not answer further. I then moved to the other issue..." She looks at T'Var again. "The impression that you and I had both received, that he was strangely happy and excited after Mr. Wilson's death. Again I couched the question by saying it was only an implication, and did not use any names. He immediately said he was not happy over Mr. Wilson's death, but did not explain further. He would not even answer why someone might have gotten this impression. Throughout he was irritated and annoyed with me. When I told him I was disappointed that he was not opening up to me when I was trying to help, he then said I was insulting him and threatened to call security."

Kylah exhales and meets Graham's gaze. "I told him to do so, if he wished, but I did not think investigating a murder would be enough reason to call security on me. To conclude, I will say that his reactions were... odd. He never even asked who had made the implications about his argument with Wilson, which I would have expected as a natural question for anyone in such a circumstance. He also displayed a bizarre lack of concern regarding the fact that the spore introductions yesterday seem to have worn off for at least two thirds of the guests. And most important..." She returns to look at T'Var, this time very meaningfully. "He was afraid of something. I am certain of that."

Finally Kylah hesitates. She knows she should report Halsey's willingness to break Starfleet's rules regarding treating officers--his insistance on this had made her very uncomfortalbe--but the thought of sharing the circumstances is too embarrassing. And so she just exhales. "That is all."

Dr. T'Var says, "Thank you, Mr. Kylah. I am a little tired, I confess, but still able to carry out my duties. Are you feeling all right yourself? I almost wonder if, given the landing party's schedule so far today, it would be worthwhile for us to take a, say, two-hour nap after lunch. Fatigue is likely to lead to errors of judgment." After Kylah has reported on her meeting with Dr. Halsey, she asks, "What do you propose we do next with regard to Dr. Halsey? When all is said and done, do you consider him a suspect in Mr. Wilson's murder?"

Rangin stops at the door and considers the passageway behind him and wonders where it fits onto the schematic map of the resort. He scans around the door and any associated locking mechanism for any fingerprints.

Once done, he tries the door to see where it leads.

In answer to T'Var's question prior to Graham's arrival, Kylah says a quick, "I am very tired but doing my best, doctor, thank you. I agree that a rest period might be ideal; perhaps we might take one in two separate shifts, so three of us are still working at all times? The investigation should not be delayed."

To the doctor's response after her report: "The next step... perhaps you might speak with him, Doctor. You have worked with him the closest. As a peer, you might have the best rapport and understanding to elicit better responses than I. As far as whether I suspect him, I do not know. His manner is so peculiar to me. But almost everything can be explained innocently. His good mood may have been professional excitement at an unusual case. His fear could have been normal for anyone in a murder investigation. His blithe, careless attitude toward the failure of the spores might simply mean he is a poor scientist. Many doctors are not worthy of their profession. No offense intended," she adds with an apologetic glance at T'Var.

Kylah purses her lips in thought. "I believe if he is not a direct suspect, he may very well know something. It occurred to me that of all the senior staff, Dr. Halsey has the least to fear--and possibly the most to gain--if WR&R loses its license. His apparent expertise and knowledge of the spores make him a valuable resource to potential new owners. He may even have been approached by one of the many people who has connections to WR&R's competitors. Perhaps someone who he felt would hold the infirmary in high regard, unlike Mr. Wilson.

"That is what I find the most curious in this," she goes on. "The fact that so many guests--and thus far, all of those who were introduced to the spores yesterday--each has some involvement in the WR&R contract renewal. The fact that all of them happened to be here during Vice Admiral Hardin's visit, and when Mr. Wilson was killed, and when their spore treatments suddenly lost effectiveness... Which is another thing. Dr. Halsey said that none of the guests had complained about the spores' wearing off. Why? How is that possible? Mrs. Calvin has been here multiple times; she would know that such a failure is unusual, and yet she displayed no distress or curiosity. Mr. Palver did not seem very concerned either. I cannot speak for the Vice Admiral or Lt. Ebling, as I did not see them."

Kylah shakes her head. "Too many coincidences, the largest of which is the number of people with interest in WR&R's competitors. I do not even understand it. The entire planet is wide open. By using the same technology as this existing resort, any of the other companies could open a competitor. I know the infrastructure is already in place and thus desireable to save money, but still. There is a great deal of money to be made in exploiting such a new territory, investment bankers should be falling over themselves recommending ways to colonize--"

She stops as if something has choked her. During the staff meeting earlier, she had felt a memory nagging at the back of her mind that was too vague for her to identify. Now her own voice has triggered something, and at last she makes the connection she could not recall earlier.

Words spoken across a romantic table for two: As for what I do now, I'm an investment banker - mostly colonial bonds...

Kylah's mouth goes dry and it takes a couple of seconds for her to continue, though her mind remains distracted. "To--to--to colonize a valuable planet," she manages to stammer out. "I think it is... Somehow the investors are involved. The Vice Admiral. Lt. Ebling. We must identify and talk to everyone who has some interest in this." Everyone.

She is beginning to feel nauseous and needs to find something else to focus on. Not now. I will deal with this later. "I should speak to Mrs. Hsu," she blurts. "I now doubt the personal angle, but with all the security breaches, her husband must be considered. I will speak to her." She finally turns to Graham, hoping the sweat on her brow is not too obvious. "Oh... no, I forgot, Mr. Graham. Did we have something else to discuss with her? I cannot... I cannot recall. And I realize I have not asked for your advice and opinion on my discussion with Halsey. I am sorry," she finishes weakly.

Graham scowls, rubbing his chin. "No need to apologize," he replies. "Ebling was...cagey...about whether they were doing some business here not related to WR&R's renewal," he adds, ruminating on it. "Is there something on about WR&R still being here, but somebody else opening up shop as well? It's a good theory, Ensign..."

He smiles slightly. "You might be able to give Halsey what for as a doctor, T'Var...Clearly he should feel a little accountable--or at least more curious--about the spore anomaly." He shrugs. "And then if he calls Security, we can make sure I show up and it'll be his lucky day..." He stops but then adds quickly, wondering what Kylah would assume he meant about the resort's doctor. "I was thinking I could very diligently ask him to detail his concerns with his treatment by Starfleet personnel, starting at the very beginning and working forward in detail...."

He sighs and then shakes his head. "I don't lean toward Mrs. Hsu as the killer, but I do suspect she's not telling us everything." He pauses. "Do you feel up to trying your gambit with her now?" he asks Kylah. He glances at T'Var for her opinion--or support.

Kylah does her best to focus on Graham, although the vision of the man she's tried to avoid thinking about all day seeps insidiously into her thoughts. She nods agreement where necessary, stares intently at Graham when he speaks, but all the while Jan Švehla is there in her mind, as if attempting to possess her mentally just as the spores did last night--and as he did, physically. He might be an investor. He might be involved. I must speak with him. Somehow I must dare to face him...

Finally she realizes she has been asked a question. "Yes," she says, more loudly than intended, and clenches her fists to keep herself focused on the present. "Yes, I will go through with that plan. I doubt her involvement as well--at least as it relates to her relationship with Wilson--but I do believe her husband is worthy of our interest, as he could easily have tampered with so many security measures. And one motive for him would be his wife's relationship with Wilson. Unless that was a cover as well."

Kylah glances at the office door, then looks back at Graham. She did not even realize he was as close to her as he is--that is how distracted she's been. Unconsciously she takes a tiny step backwards. "So--so should I go in alone? I will ask if she wishes to speak alone now, on a personal matter. Or did you have other questions to bring up first?"

Graham involuntarily winces as he notices Kylah stepping back--apparently reflexively.

Lizzy did that, once, he thinks. Because as a young girl she didn't know what stinking drunk smelled like, until she got too close to her own father at the wrong time...

He clears his throat. "Ah, yeah," he gestures toward T'Var. "We'll...ostensibly...head off, while you stay to talk to her. In a minute I'll--you're welcome to stay, your discretion, Doc, depending on your priorities...I'm, ah, hopeful we won't need medical assistance on this one--circle right back and be right around here." He frowns. "Probably a yell would be audible out here...but I'd suggest you have your communicator somewhere handy, out of sight...just trip it behind your back or under the table if...if you need to."

"I shall be prepared," Kylah murmurs, then--thinking of how the Hwuen and Halsey interviews ended--adds dryly: "But at this point I am more likely to be targeted by security officers than Mrs. Hsu. Apparently people find me a bigger threat than the murderer."

She walks back to the office, nods at the aide, and braces herself. There is almost no chance this conversation will be anything but uncomfortable. But nothing has been comfortable for her, not since... really, not since the meeting with Mark Ferguson in the Yorktown rec room. A wave of exhaustion hits her and, closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath to clear her head and focus on her current task.

Finally she asks Mrs. Hsu's aide to announce her presence again.

After Kylah is out of earshot Graham shifts uncomfortably. "Ah, Doc, you and Kylah are...uh, close, I guess...is she, um, is there anything we should be worried about?" He pauses. "I'm concerned about her--well, not her health exactly, but her...well-being..."

He scratches his head. "Also--I realize you were onboard taking care of Collins when Vargas put me in charge here." He spreads his hands and shrugs. "I asked everyone to share any advice--or express any concerns, then...so, ah, permission to speak freely, if you'd like to."

Rangin sees a simple OPEN/CLOSE button for the door. He pushes it, and the door opens. Beyond is what appears to be a windowless storage room, five meters by five meters. It is half-full with chairs, cleaning supplies and storage boxes. A single dim light glows on the ceiling. The floor is clean and there are only faint dusty footprints leading to another door on the far side of the room.

Mrs. Hsu's aide shows Kylah back into the acting resort director's office. Mrs. Hsu looks tired and drawn.

Dr. T'Var says, "I have no particular advice to offer, or concerns to express, Mr. Graham, except that I think we ought to meet with Lord Fastolfe sooner rather than later. He is an obvious suspect."

Graham nods and sighs. "Roger that, Doc." He shifts even more uncomfortably than before. "Well, I guess I'd better get on station to have Kylah's back...but..."

He grimaces. It's not like it's going to get easier to ask this later, he thinks.

"Uh, you room with Lt. Bennett, right, Doctor?" He clears his throat. "Do you know-- is there anything...ah, she might like from the spa gift shop?"

He blushes slightly, thinking of some of the more intimate apparel. "I mean like a particular scent of soap, or something like that?"

He stops but then adds quickly, "To, um, celebrate her promotion and all."

Rangin is slightly disappointed by the sight in front of him. A simple store cupboard with a few tracks in it. He is surprised that no one has been down the other passage though.

"Markovich, check the prints on the floor, see if we have any new ones. I'll check for fingerprints and if this is just a storage area, we should find more here."

As he steps through, Rangin stays in the doorway, preventing it from closing and checking the door mechanism from the area in front.

Once Rangin is satisfied with the scans and the door, he will look to move through the opposite door.

Graham has the impression that Dr. T'Var is putting on her best Vulcan poker face. She coughs slightly and says, "I do indeed share quarters with Lt. Bennett. I'm sure that she would appreciate any gift you get her; it is, as the old Earth phrase goes, 'the thought that counts.' I believe she is partial to jasmine and roses, but confess that I... have not made a careful study of her perfumes."

Markovich scans the floor with his tricorder. "Impossible to determine when these were made, sir, more specifically than in the past three months or so."

Rangin picks up more than two dozen different fingerprints in the storage room, on virtually every exposed surface. Wilson's prints appear only on the door control pad. When the Yorktown xenobiologist steps entirely into the room and opens the door on the far side, he looks out to see a typical WR&R residential corridor, shorter than but otherwise identical to that outside Wilson's suite's entryway. In fact, it is the hallway perpendicular to that one.

"It's a rat run. A way to get out without being spotted by any of the security cameras. I wonder whose quarters are near here? But then, what's the point, he would get noticed sooner or later."

Rangin folds his arms and starts looking back around the storage area. He is not happy with what he has, or perhaps what he hasn't, found.

"Ok, one last check around the storage area. Electronic devices, anything you would not expect in there and so on. Then the same back through that corridor to the suite...". Rangin pauses for a moment, "...actually, I have another idea. I wonder if Mr Delaney's adjustments do work. If Mr Wilson was the only person to use that corridor, we can get a scent trace on the tricorder and try and follow it. Perhaps prove he did leave through here at some point last night."

Markovich nods. The two of you find no electronic devices in the storage room. A closer look at the door reveals a small fisheye lens, set at eye level, that would allow someone inside the room to see both directions in the hallway.

A scent trace, although inexact, indicates that Wilson was in the service passageway sometime in the past 24 hours.

Graham realizes he clenching his teeth so tightly his head hurts. "Ah, thanks Doc," he says quickly. "I guess I'd better..."

Beam myself into a supernova is what first comes to mind.

"...be ready in case Mr. Kylah needs anything," he says as he nods and turns back toward the admin office,

"He used this passage last night as we can pretty much account for his movements yesterday, until late in the evening. Well Mr Delaney will be glad to know his changes worked."

Rangin looks at Markovich, "Right let's lock that door and see where this scent trail leads. If anywhere, of course. After that, we go back and check the schematics of this floor and find out who is close to that entrance."

The scent trail goes out into the corridor, turns left, goes down the hallway several dozen meters to the elevator lobby, and stops right at the elevator door.

Markovich says, "We can access the schematics on our tricorders, sir." He brings up the floor plans. Ten different WR&R employees have suites or rooms on the floor; you recognize none of their names. It's no one you've spoken to yet.

"Hmm," nods Rangin, "thanks for that. Next set of questions, which floor do the Hsu's reside on and which floor has the transporter? I'm going to hazard a guess he went to one of those floors. Then we can see if trail restarts."

Rangin looks around before turning back to Markovich. "Are there any cameras between the storage and this lift? "

Markovich checks. "The Hsus's suite is two floors up, sir. The transporter is on the first floor or ground level, in a different part of the resort." He tabs to a different display on his Security tricorder's small display screen. "There are no cameras between the storage room and this elev-- uh, lift."

The scent trail does not resume two floors up, but there is a very, very faint remnant of it on the first floor.

As the door slides closed behind her, Kylah tilts her head in sympathy for the other woman. She looks like I feel. Clearing her throat, she begins: "Excuse me, Mrs. Hsu. I need to speak with you about an extremely personal matter. More than one, actually." She hesitates, awkward. "I fear this may take awhile. May we speak now? If you prefer, we might schedule another time, or find a more private place...?"

Hsu leans back in her chair and says, "Here and now, I suppose. What can I do for you, Ensign?"

Kylah looks for a chair and, after asking with a silent gesture, takes a seat, her nervous hands clasped together. "The first matter will seem insignificant, and I apologize for bringing it up in such circumstances but... Today I visited the infirmary about a--a private health matter, which I wish to keep off my official Starfleet record."

She quickly explains her conversation with Dr. Halsey regarding Starfleet's arrangement with WR&R and Halsey's offer to waive the reporting rules. "But I am not willing to take advantage of this policy in such a way. Could you please make certain I am billed for the infirmary services? The gift shop, Mazime's, should have my ID and financial information on record."

Mrs. Hsu looks at her oddly for a moment, then nods and makes a note on her datapad. "If you wish. Consider it done."

"I appreciate that," Kylah says, wishing she'd had some water to help her bone-dry throat. Her nerves are making her hoarse. "I am afraid this may be painful, Mrs. Hsu, and I apologize in advance. You probably do not remember, as you were understandably distracted, but early this morning, when I searched Mr. Wilson's pockets, I was the one who found his communicator." Her voice almost cracks on the word. She is incredibly uncomfortable. "It was my task to attempt to decrypt the device's password, to see if I could access his information. After several attempts, I succeeded. There was a lot of data there, including the last few days of saved messages. I told my fellow crewmembers about most of them, but -- but not all. There were two I did not share, but locked them in a hidden file with my own password." The lie comes easily to her lips. "I did this because while I may be a Starfleet officer, I am also an Elasian woman. Elasians respect privacy, and these messages were very personal. And... they were clearly from you."

She takes a deep breath and makes her voice as gentle, as delicate, as possible. "You must know what I am about to ask. Please tell me the true nature of your relationship with Anthony Wilson. I must know how long it has been going on, how you two arranged your -- your private meetings, and... whether anyone, anyone at all, might have known about it."

Hsu stares at Kylah, stunned, and finally says, "I... don't wish to discuss it. I'm sorry, but I have nothing to say about that."

Kylah shakes her head slowly. "No, Mrs. Hsu. That is a natural, instinctive reaction. But complete silence is not an option. You will have to speak about this one way or another. We are talking about a man, a man with whom you were on intimate terms, who was murdered. Every aspect of his life will be inspected--already is being inspected. If I make this information known to my colleagues, you will be grilled and treated as a suspect. Your husband will be as well--perhaps especially your husband. Mr. Wilson's wife and children may learn of this, and your employers, your employees..." She searches Mrs. Hsu's gaze for any sign of relenting. "I am coming to you privately because I do not think such intimate and possibly destructive information should be revealed, when it could harm so many lives and reputations."

"I said I don't want to talk about it."

Kylah leans forward and lowers her voice further. "Physical evidence of an affair has been found in his suite, ma'am. DNA. Hair. It has not been traced to you, but it might be. As yet, no one has considered you, and of course, even such physical evidence that you were in his suite, in his bed, might be explained innocently. But that voice on the communicator, your voice, your words... cannot."

She waits for this to sink in. "As I said, an affair is a private matter that need never be made public--as long as it has nothing to do with Mr. Wilson's murder. And you are the only person who can explain this to me. Please, Mrs. Hsu, do not leave me with no choice." She sits back to give the older woman some space, some distance, as if the extra freedom will make her see reason. "If you need time to decide, I will give it to you, and we can meet privately later once you have chosen. But I cannot wait long."

Hsu puts her face in her hands and sighs. Kylah feels the despair and anguish radiating from her. The woman at last looks up and says quietly, "All right. Tony and I were having an affair. It had gone on for several months. He was unhappy in his marriage and... far away from his wife, both emotionally and physically. Isolated here on this planet, coping with the demands of his job. We worked very closely together, and... one thing led to another. My husband and I have been having problems, too." She sighs. "I'm not proud of it, but it's the truth."

The admission takes a lot out of the other woman, and Kylah exhales herself, feeling a release of her own tension. "Thank you," she murmurs. "I know that was hard. I do not want to make this more difficult than necessary. This sudden shock, coupled with the need to hide the extent of your grief... That seems extraordinarily painful. If you want to talk about that, finally having someone to speak to, please do. Unfortunately I do need some more information... I am sure you can imagine that this adds some additional questions about Mr. Wilson's life, and possibly--hopefully not--his death."

Hsu nods.

"Can you tell me how long you two were involved, romantically? You mention that he was distant from his wife... has she ever visited here, does she know anyone at the resort? I suppose I am asking if it is at all possible that she knows--or that anyone else here knew." Kylah hesitates. "And I must ask the question: what of your husband? He is in security, he has access to so much information about people's comings and goings... Do you think he suspects or knows? How--even logistically--how did you and Mr. Wilson manage to keep your secret? With your husband's staff also watching the security cameras and so many cleaners and staff coming and going..." She bites her lip, trying to think of other questions. "Your last message to him was yesterday, and you spoke of seeing him later. Did you?"

Hsu says, clearly uncomfortable, "We were involved for six, seven months, I think. His wife had visited here briefly. I don't think she got to know anybody very well; I stayed away from her as much as I could and still be polite. I don't think my husband knows about Tony and me. I don't even think he suspects. Tony and I tried to be very careful. We didn't meet yesterday after your ship arrived; I never heard back from him after my message to him."

dupl. post

Rangin chuckles at Markovich. "Don't worry about it, I know what an elevator is. Feel free to keep calling it that."

"Right, let's see if this trail goes anywhere and if it crosses any cameras."

Rangin heads off on the first floor following the trace.

The scent trail goes less than 30 meters, to the right out of the ground level elevator lobby, and then dies out. Markovich's architectural plans show that two cameras cover part of that route. Several guests and vacationers look curiously at you as they go by, on their way to a meal, the pool or some other diversion.

Graham positions himself a few steps from the door to the admin offices and checks both his communicator and phaser settings.

He doesn't look to see if T'Var has followed him or gone off in a different direction: the fact that she was succinct and didn't ask any questions is a relief.

Roses, he thinks, listening for any sign of trouble but also. An English rose....

He finds that to be an apt description of Bennett.

As it was of Jane, a long time ago...

But do you actually buy her anything, he thinks...and if so, why?

What do you think you're doing, Booker? He shakes his head. Get real for god's sake. If you have the guts, get a fine young officer a nice gift--to congratulate her. Don't kid yourself about anything more than that. And don't even imagine that you'll get in the way of her career, and her life with...with, to be sure, some comparably accomplished, young officer who will probably be kicking back here on OC3 with her, twenty years from now when they are both celebrated admirals and you're a washed up old man.

Rangin nods at a few of those paying interest and muses to Markovich. "Ever get the feeling you hit a false trail. Scent strength is a bit too low and its going past cameras." An evil grin crosses his face. "You know there is one thing I have always wanted to do in a place like this. Let's check each floor outside the elevator to see if we can find the correct scent trail. It will mean stopping the lift at every floor on the way up, but its the only scientific way to do it."

He sighs a little with the grin still on his face. "Coming?", he says as he heads back to the elevator.

Rangin will select one that is empty for the purpose of this test. No need to inconvenience every one else at the same time.

Markovich smiles a little. "Where you go, I go, sir, unless ordered otherwise."

You ride the elevator for a few minutes together, but there is no discernible scent trail of Wilson on any other floor.

"Well, that was an...umm...interesting scientific experiment with a conclusion that Mr Wilson left at the ground, or first as you might say, floor. If that is the case, we can say that he left his quarters after midnight last night as he was not seen on tape. Unless someone just happened to accurately transport him out of the elevator, which I would consider unlikely." Rangin stores the data neatly away on his tricorder.

"Right, next task. Evidence taking. Mr Markovich, if you would care to join me in the Command Post, we shall see if I have had a response to certain legal queries."

Rangin heads off with Markovich in tow.

Rangin and Markovich arrive at the CP. The locked door opens with Rangin's thumbprint. No one else is in there.

"Huh, wonder what's taking everyone so long?" wonders Rangin out loud to Markovich. "Would have though Lt. Delaney would have finished by now with the transporter and I thought the public notice was almost done when I left. Oh well, let's grab a coffee and see if we have had a response from Starbase 27."

Rangin checks his comm account and finds a message from Cmdr. Vargas, sent ten minutes earlier. "I've attached a draft form prepared by the Starbase 27 Judge Advocate for you to use in taking witness statements. The form includes warnings about perjury and self-incrimination. You should administer oaths to anyone filling out the forms, as you have the authority to do as a commissioned officer of Starfleet. The content of the questions themselves is up to Ens. Graham. Let me know if you need any further assistance. Good luck. Vargas out."

The form is just as described.

It is now 1357 hours.

Rangin sighs disappointedly. He was hoping to set this up and then look at some more investigation details. Instead it appears that it would require a commissioned officer and he doubted any of the others would be quite so interested in admitting 27 sets of oaths to a variety of people, one after the other. Well, at least, it beat having to interview them all personally.

He pulls out his communicator and takes a deep swig of coffee for before starting. "Rangin to Graham. Just to inform you I have the response from Starbase 27. we have a set of forms and guidance and details of administering any oaths. All that are required are a set of questions to be asked. Cmdr Vargas said that content of which should be up to your good self. I'm in the Command Post when you are ready. Rangin out."

Kylah considers her words carefully. "I am sure you tried to be as circumspect as possible, Mrs. Hsu. But I must tell you that when questioned, the staff have mentioned rumors that Mr. Wilson was having an affair. Can you think of any reason why such a suspicion began? Where exactly did you two meet, and how often? Is it at all possible that Mr. Wilson was seeing someone else? I know you seem relatively sure your husband does not suspect, but... if he did suspect... would he have confronted you about this? Would he have confronted Mr. Wilson?"

Hsu says, "This is like a small town in some ways. People gossip; rumors get around. I don't know who might have figured out what was going on - certainly no one spoke to me about it." She sighs. "Tony and I would meet every week or so, depending on our schedules. It tended to be... furtive. We had to be careful. And I have no reason to think Tony saw anyone else while we were... involved. If Lionel suspected something, I don't know... I guess I think he would ask me about it. Other than very recently, we've always been very open with each other. He might confront Tony, but I doubt it."

Kylah pauses to reflect. "I appreciate your honesty; now I fear I must take advantage of your knowledge of Mr. Wilson's life, things that only someone close to him would know. For example, did you know he had a private safe installed in his suite? One with a great deal of security on it, requiring items to be transported in or out, rather than a regular lock mechanism. Have you any idea what might be inside, or what need Mr. Wilson had for such an extraordinary level of secrecy? How technically adept was he?"

She seems surprised. "He had a safe? I had no idea. He never mentioned it, and I never saw it. He was pretty tech-savvy, though."

Filing that away, Kylah presses on. "There were also rumors that his job was in peril--had you heard about that? Why would someone think such a thing--had it anything to do with the contract renewal? Was he happy at WR&R?" Kylah takes a deep breath. "And I would like to ask you about Mr. Wilson and Dr. Halsey. Early this morning, while you denied that Mr. Wilson had any arguments recently, you were seen to have cast a brief look at Dr. Halsey. Without mentioning your name, I spoke with him earlier about any rancor that lay between them. He claimed Mr. Wilson did not value the Infirmary. Is this true? Had you heard them arguing about such a thing?"

The Chinese woman shakes her head. "His job was never in jeopardy. He'd done good work here for WR&R, and Corporate was very pleased with him. Other than his issues with his wife, he seemed happy here, all in all. He had his good days and his bad, of course, as we all do." She pauses. "Tony - Mr. Wilson - and Dr. Halsey had argued a bit about funding for the Infirmary. Nothing too serious; nothing worth murder, if that's what you're driving at. Halsey just always wanted a bigger budget, a bigger staff, and Tony had to look at the big picture and sometimes tell him no. This is a very lucrative venture for the company, but they don't want to spend endless credits on the medical side of things."

Absorbing Mrs. Hsu's responses, Kylah tilts her head. "I am not particularly driving at anything," she says. "But the truth is that someone killed Tony Wilson. Someone benefited from this act. What purpose did it serve? In the case of your husband, the immediate thought is revenge for an affair--but that could only be true if he knew. You have not mentioned where you met, how well you could have hidden from the security cameras and staff."

"We met in his apartment," Hsu says. "Sometimes, only once or twice, in empty rooms in one of the hotel wings."

Kylah nods, although she is not very satisfied with the answer. Wilson's apartment is hardly beyond the reach of security cameras or nosy staff. But she moves on. "Next, the staff. For those such as Dr. Halsey, motives are less certain. Was Mr. Wilson hindering someone ambitious? Could one of them--yes, including Dr. Halsey--believe his or her station would improve with new employers, should WR&R lose the contract? Might one or more of the competitors, many of whom are represented by investors among the guests, have made some... some devil's bargain?" Kylah squints, concentrating. "Are you aware that many guests do have investments in WR&R's competitors? And they are all here, now, when someone from Starfleet who might have input in making the contract decision--Vice Admiral Hardin--is also staying at the resort?"

"I don't know how many investors are here. I would imagine it's quite a few; our guests tend to be rather well-heeled," Hsu says dryly. "As I understand it, though, Vice Adm. Hardin won't be deciding; it's going to be a Starfleet board of which he's not a member."

Kylah does not respond to this. The Comptroller General might well be able to veto almost anything, and influence even a supposedly neutral board. Unless the Federation truly is the paragon of virtue that its lofty ambassadors would have the Alpha Quadrant believe, there might be corruption here too. She continues, "I would also like your opinion on Lord Fastolfe. Despite their argument, it seems very hard to believe Fastolfe would murder a man due to not getting the house he wanted. One anomaly we have noticed was that before we were brought to the introduction room yesterday, Mr. Wilson was limping, and most emphatically refused any help from Dr. T'Var--both for the limp, and after Fastolfe's attack. Do you know anything about what caused the limp? Or why Mr. Wilson was so wary of being scanned afterward?"

"I noticed him limping a little, too," Hsu says, "never had a chance to ask him about it. I don't know what happened. Tony sometimes had back and foot trouble, and it might've just been that. As to being scanned... well, he could be a private person in many ways. If someone, even a doctor, scanned him without asking for permission, I could see that it might get his dander up."

Kylah nods and says softly, "These are just some of the angles the investigation has uncovered. Well, not the affair angle--I am afraid I will have to delve into that more, privately, and I do promise to be as discreet as I know how to be. Which I assure you... is my strong suit." She pushes forward again. "Having said all this, Mrs. Hsu, I will ask you: as the person likely closest to him at this resort--why was Mr. Wilson killed? Whom do you believe capable of such an act--and motivated enough to perpetrate it?"

Hsu begins to tear up, but then, with a noticeable effort, gets a grip on her emotions. She wipes at her eyes with a tissue and says, her voice choked, "I wish I knew. This has all been so unexpected, so terrible. Tony was a wonderful man who only wanted what was best for this place, for the company. For... for us. I can't imagine anyone on the staff doing this; I just can't. And if I had to guess - and it would only be a guess - I think it was probably a guest."

Of course you do, what else can you say? Kylah waits respectfully for the woman to dry her tears. "That is almost everything for now, Mrs. Hsu. As I said, I will do my best to keep this information from becoming public. No one else has it but me," she adds, somewhat more slowly. If Mrs. Hsu is guilty she is painting a target on her back, but it seems extremely unlikely. Besides, that was the prime purpose in this scheme anyway. "I must speak with your husband, and will be as discreet as possible. Your name will not be mentioned if I can at all help it."

She starts to get up, then hesitates with a frown. "No, wait--I do have one more question. You said that Mr. Wilson was unhappy with his marriage, partly due to the distance. But you said nothing about your own reasons for falling into the affair. You did say things were difficult between you and your husband. I understand this is very personal but I must still ask: what led you into this affair? Has your husband changed toward you, acted differently recently?"

Mrs. Hsu sighs and shakes her head. "I'd rather not say. I can't see that it has anything to do with your investigation. I've told you a lot already... more than I probably should have."

"I understand, and I am extremely grateful." Kylah calculates how to phrase the question in an inoffensive way. "I will explain why I am asking; it is not to be prurient. Your relationship with Mr. Wilson is likely not the reason for his murder. But something else was. Someone with a great deal of technical expertise--particularly in the security area." She waits. I have lied multiple times. Another will not get me in any deeper. "We have been wondering about the security staff--whether someone working for your husband might have been disgruntled, unhappy, or ambitious enough to ally him or herself with one of WR&R's competitors. So you see, your husband's state of mind is relevant. If he has been distracted over the past few months, or more focused on work, or in any other way behaving unusually... Mr. Hsu may have been concerned about someone on his staff. Perhaps he was the one originally approached by some competitor, but he turned them down and grew concerned. Do you understand? This crime was premeditated and very well organized. And so we are looking for any unusual behavior patterns, anything that might indicate something suspicious." Kylah takes a deep breath, and now she concentrates closely on Mrs. Hsu's emotions. "Might this have been the case? Have you noticed your husband behaving differently? Or anyone, for that matter?"

Mrs. Hsu crosses her arms and purses her lips. Kylah senses embarrassment, annoyance and anxiety in roughly equal measures. "No, I haven't. Him or anyone. Are we done yet?"

It's clear that Kylah has used up Mrs. Hsu's store of patience, and she decides she had better retreat--for now. "Yes, Mrs. Hsu. I know how difficult this was for you, and hope you understand that this was a necessary if unpleasant part of the investigation. I thank you for both your time and your candor."

Kylah stands and--realizing a handshake is highly unlikely to be returned--just nods her head in gratitude before leaving the office. When the door whispers shut behind her, she takes a long, deep breath. After a moment she looks around to find Mr. Graham.

Graham stands with the back of his left shoulder just slightly touching the left-hand wall as one stands facing the office door. He's turned sideways, balancing on the balls of both feet (as when starting a sprint, one gains an extra step by pushing forward from both feet rather than rocking back and pushing off the back leg as most people do by default). His right hand loosely holds the phaser at the small of his back. He's focused on listening and watching and spares only a little attention for Rangin's message.

"Understood," he says very quietly. "I'll get back to you shortly."

He's never enjoyed violence--although calling it a "necessary evil" goes too far, he thinks....something I'm sure Rangin would have a word or two of commentary on.

It was neither pleasant nor desirable--but then there were people who deserved whatever they got. Just...necessary, sometimes, he thinks.

But as he modulates his breathing as he would waiting for the go or no-go sign on a forced entry, he concedes the point that now--and for the last ten years--risk and danger has been a way to keep his mind occupied.

He ever so slightly shakes his head. Better or worse than booze? he wonders.

He remains still and only blinks--briefly calculating the angle for a shot if Hsu were to appear at her shoulder in a threatening way--as Kylah emerges from the room.

Kylah feels a strange combination of relief and alarm when she sees Graham standing in a position that makes him seem as if he's about to launch at her. The cause for the alarm is obvious; the relief makes her realize just how tense she has been since starting the uncomfortable meeting with Mrs. Hsu.

She lifts her palm in a sort of 'stand down' gesture, not wanting to speak until they're far enough away from the aide, whom she thanks briefly before reaching her mission leader. "We should go," she murmurs to Graham while she continues to move toward a corner they can hide behind.

Assuming she finds one, she slips around to the side. She stops to wait for Graham. "I am interested to see if she leaves or if she calls anyone to join her," she says, still keeping her voice very low. "I doubt she will. I am not entirely certain I accomplished much other than embarrassing and scaring a grieving woman. Do you mind if we wait just a few moments to see?"

As she speaks she peeks around to view the office door, feeling like a mouse awaiting a cat. Or vice versa. "To be honest I would rather not go directly to Mr. Hsu right now, even if he were available. Before approaching him, I would appreciate suggestions once you hear my report."

Graham nods acknowledgment of Kylah's initial words. He raises an eyebrow when she says she'd rather not see Mr. Hsu at the moment.

"That's..." he answers quietly, pausing and thinking for a moment. "...good judgment. We all need to know our state of mind and our limits and, ah, work as a team accordingly..."

He's trying to be enouraging given his concerns about Kylah trying to prove herself - although he's aware he probably sounds like a fool giving this particular advice her previous encounter with him.

"Mr Graham will be in contact shortly", Rangin comments across to Markovich. "I wonder when Mrs Hsu will know who will be assisting us? Probably in a bit."

Rangin looks round the room idly, "May as well take 5 while you can, we'll be doing something shortly anyway..." Rangin picks up the rubbish bin from Mr Wilson's office and empties the torn papers out. "...or you can give me a hand and see if you can find anything of interest in these scraps." He begins to sort through them, wondering what Mr Wilson would have been scribbling given the number of devices he had in his room.

As Graham talks, Kylah nods absently, suddenly realizing that she is risking too much by poking her head around like this. She straightens and looks up at Graham. "Perhaps I should stay out of sight while you can keep one eye on the door," she says, shifting backwards a bit. "Assuming my bluff was successful, Mrs. Hsu thinks I am acting on my own. I would feel safer if I were not with you. Not seen with you," she amends hurriedly, although the slip was hardly a lie. "But--but I think she believed me, and thinks I am keeping the affair--which she confirmed--private."

Exhaling, she turns in the other direction, toward the CP. "I might as well give you the basic facts, if I may. The affair began about six or seven months ago; she does not think her husband or anyone knows--although I am not so certain. From the sound of it they were not particularly secretive. They met in his suite almost every week, or empty hotel rooms, and while she described their--their trysts--as 'furtive,' she mentioned no precaution as far as avoiding security cameras or staff. And she had no explanation for how the rumors of Wilson's affairs started. I should mention that Mrs. Wilson visited here some months back, after the relationship started. But Mrs. Hsu does not think she knew anything.

"That was most of what she said regarding their relationship. Although I pressed her about her own marriage, and she said that things between her and Mr. Hsu have been... strained. Oh... this was odd. Mrs. Hsu claimed that it was 'only recently' that she and her husband were secretive with each other--even though the affair went on for at least half a year. I tried to get her to elaborate on this but she would not. Indeed, she became very reticent when I pressed her on her husband's behavior." Kylah frowns slightly. "I do not know what this means, but it is why I do still want to try this gambit with Mr. Hsu."

Kylah sighs. "The rest of the conversation involved other matters on which I hoped she might shed some light. But almost everything was a negative. Dr. Halsey was indeed frustrated with the lack of funds devoted to the infirmary, but she does not believe he or anyone on the staff could possibly be guilty. She knew nothing of the safe or what it might contain. She had no explanation for either Mr. Wilson's refusal to be scanned by our doctor or his limp, though as to the latter, she claimed he had back and foot problems--perhaps we can ask Dr. T'Var to confirm this. And she insisted that to the contrary of rumors, Mr. Wilson was in no danger of being fired. I believe the only slightly useful information I gained was merely a suspicion--and again, it involved her husband. I noticed that she became extremely terse, more so than earlier, when I asked if Mr. Hsu, or anyone else on staff, had been behaving unusually lately. She would not speak further, even though I reiterated my promise that I would do my best to keep things private..."

A twinge of guilt makes her gnaw at her bottom lip. She is aware of the hypocrisy of talking about a promise while in the process of breaking it. "She never once asked me to keep silent," Kylah says, almost wonderingly. "But I made those promises anyway. Knowing they were false."

Her gaze shifts downward to inspect the floor as she murmurs: "I have lied many times to many people. Why does it get easier to do, yet feel worse?"

Graham feels both a sense of sympathy and self-recrimination as Kylah trails off at the end of her report.

Who knows what kind of physical or emotional pain Collins was in yesterday while I was being no help at all? And now I've probably been making things affirmatively worse for this young officer...

"We...as Starfleet officers, we all have to do things may be unpleasant...but also necessary." he replies softly. "It's, uh, it may not feel like it but it's a good thing if those sorts of of things never start to get pleasant." He shakes his head, remembering any number of incidents. "Some people lose themselves in the bad parts of the job...they get too wound up in exercising what power that they have, or even in the rush that comes from putting your own people at risk." He shrugs. "I don't know how people like that feel inside, but I can tell you for certain--when it gets easier and doesn't feel worse, that's when you need to worry."

He instinctively starts to lift his hand to put it on the dejected-looking young woman's shoulder but stops re-directs it to scratch his head.

She's not just your daughter's age, you've managed to build the same kinds of barriers you've created with Lizzy, too...in less than a week. Nice job, genius, he thinks.

Graham clears his throat. "Anyway, well...it would be a hell of a thing, wouldn't it, if Hsu were involved in some other angle and whacked Wilson without knowing about the affair, wouldn't it?" he says, shaking his head. "But let's take a break before another hard round of emotional stuff you need to play through. When we're through here let's check back at the CP and find out what Rangin's been up to." He shrugs. "I don't know if talking to our buddy Fastolfe would count as a break but it would certainly be a change of pace--you know, more insults and imprecations, not so many tears."

Graham and Kylah make their way to the CP, and find Rangin and Markovich already there. The xenobiologist and Security man are looking through the desk papers and rubbish from Wilson's office. There are several hard copies of interoffice memos, discarded notes with cryptic, handwritten notations (Ask J. about pool budget, Dinner w/ ML next Tues., Check on R's Form 817, Tell HY about Simmons filing, etc.), and the like. Nothing appears to have any significance to the murder case.

In the resort's transporter room, Delaney rubs his chin and says thoughtfully, "So the transporter was used seven times in just an hour or so. Hmm. No way to track to where anything was beamed, though. Well... let's scan the room and the immediate vicinity, not just the platform, and see what we might find."

Edited to add: Oops, simulpost (sorta). Assume this takes place before the above.

Kylah listens, biting her tongue when Graham mentions the notion of getting lost in the 'bad parts of the job.' Does he believe he has lost himself, or is he unaware how... how inappropriate some of his decisions have been? At least, they seem inappropriate to her--going purely by the Federation's various codes of honor, both stated and implied.

She notices his hand reaching up and her breath catches, but fortunately it is not aimed at her. He is trying to be kind, Kylah thinks warily, her eyes measuring his every movement. The man's churning emotions both repel and fascinate her. She is reminded of a journey she took not long ago during a break from the Academy, accompanying her brother, sister and Guardian on a ceremonial visit one of the new mining settlements that appeared as if by magic once the Federation turned to Elas for its Dilithium.

While the others were speaking with the mine owners, Kylah drifted by herself to discover a roiling pool of water, bubbling and swirling, rising up several inches then lowering again as if someone were swelling and deflating it from below. It was meserizing and she could not look away. Suddenly a hand clamped down on her shoulder and dragged her backwards, just seconds before the water exploded in a white-hot column of fury. Had she remained, she would have been scalded, possibly killed, by the spray.

"Does your precious Academy not teach you basic science or geology?" Aldaan yelled at her. "Do humans not know what geysers are?" Shaking, Kylah could only stammer that she had never seen one before. Her obvious fear appeared to calm her uncle and he kept his arm around her while pulling her back to the group. In such a public place she could not shake herself free of him. Instead she focused her attention back at the foaming, deadly fountain that still reached for the sky. Why had she stood so close?

Now--today especially--Booker Graham inspires the same strange, hypnotic fear that she felt while watching the bubbling pool. Within is heat, pressure and always a threat of a violent explosion. A human geyser trying, not always successfully, to contain himself.

"Yes," she says when he recommends a break and speaking to Fastolfe. "It does not appear Mrs. Hsu has contacted anyone, at least not to see in person. Lord Fastolfe will require some planning. I am especially curious to see if he has lost the spore influence as well. Of all the guests, he seems the most likely to have caused a commotion if his vacation had been ruined." Kylah takes one last look at the office before moving cautiously away from Graham in the direction of the CP. And then she remembers that Graham implied that they would see Rangin there, which lightens her mood by the time they reach the office.

"Aye, sir" Dobson sets her tricorder for detailed scanning and moves slowly around the room, watching her screen for any indication of an inkling of a clue.

"Nope...nope...nope...afternoon Mr Graham, afternoon Mr Kylah...nope...nope", as Rangin as he spares them the briefest of glances while continuing to go through the pieces of paper.

Rangin's check of Wilson's discarded papers and such reveals nothing of interest.

Dobson's tricorder scan of the transporter room also comes up dry. When she broadens the scan to include the immediate area, however, she detects trace biosigns in the conference room next door. It seems to be on the floor.

Rangin leans back in his chair having neatly piled the remaining pieces of paper. "Ok, Markovich, good work. Take five and we will wait for Mrs Hsu to get in contact. Speaking of which..."

He looks across at the other two who recently returned and appear to have said little and both looking tired. Rangin gets up and heads for the replicator coming back with a set of three coffees and a hot chocolate for Kylah. Having distributed them, Rangin sits next to Kylah and Graham. "Mr Graham, when you are ready, your input into the questions for the staff would welcome." The tone is conversational as Graham looks out of sorts, and could do with a break.

Rangin then turns to Kylah, "So, how did it go with Mrs Hsu?" He smiles with concern for her, hoping she has come through her ploy unscathed.

At first disappointed by Velir's terse greeting, Kylah then realizes he's in the middle of inspecting some old documents and just nods to him, not wanting to interrupt. She does the same to Markovich and takes a seat, folding her hands on her lap in silence, which is probably a mistake because she finds her eyelids harder and harder to keep open--it's as if they have weights attached to them. She struggles against the temptation to nap by pinching her thigh, but even the slight pain is less powerful than her exhaustion.

The cup set before her jolts her back from the half-asleep state. Staring at it, she sees it's hot chocolate, and, turning toward the retreating figure who placed it there, she discovers it's Velir. Of course. He would remember her favorite drink. The resulting glow of affection is as warm as the drink now cradled in her hands.

When he asks her about Mrs. Hsu, she lifts the cup slightly with a quick thanks before responding. "She would not speak until I finally pressed home that her voice and words on the message could not be denied. She is... a stubborn woman, and I believe she is still hiding something." Kylah gives a quick run-down similar to the report she gave Graham. At the end, she adds: "Sad, of course, and nervous, too. I could not tell if she was nervous about having the affair exposed, or... something else. I do find it strange that she never asked me to keep her secret. I did warn her that I would have to speak with Mr. Hsu, and even that did not elicit a request for discretion. She may have trusted me, or she may have thought it useless to ask."

Kylah isn't sure which prospect is preferable--that she successfully fooled a grieving woman, or that she didn't. Taking a quick sip of the delicious drink, she shrugs. "I did stress that I am supposedly the only one who knows about the affair and have locked away the messages under my own password. It could give her a slight temptation to silence me, but I do not think she has that violence in her. We will see how Mr. Hsu reacts to the same inducement. Honestly, if I were taking bets on the situation, I would not place money on the likelihood that the murder is connected to the affair. What do you think? Either way, I shall have to talk to Mr. Hsu." She nods at Rangin's papers. "And how have you been faring? From your question to Mr. Graham I take it you received the legal approval for the depositions. Have you discovered anything else in Mr. Wilson's suite, other than trash?"

"Sir," Dobson says to Delaney, "There appears to be cellular residue on the conference room floor. Shall I investigate further?"

"Yes, let's all take a look," Delaney says. "I think we've learned about as much as we can here."

There is a doorway connecting the two rooms, which Mr. Hsu unlocks. The conference room is about the size of those on the Yorktown, but more plushly furnished. A large, dark wooden table dominates the room, with eight leather chairs gathered around it. A thick carpet is underfoot. Dobson's scan finds very faint traces of biological residue in the carpet fibers not far from the main door, which opens to the corridor outside, in a spot about half a meter across.

Rangin sighs wistfully, "Indeed, we do have the response back from Starbase 27, along with the forms and advice on what to do next. Cmdr Vargas has asked that Mr Graham provides any questions we require before some lucky commissioned officer gets to administer oaths to 27 staff about perjury and self-incrimination before letting them loose. As for the the papers from Mr Wilson's office, well there are a lot of scribbles, but nothing amongst them that might be considered of interest."

Rangin smiles, remembering the elevator ride, "On the other hand, Crewman Markovich and I did check out the passsageway behind Mr Wilson's suite. Lt. Delaney will be pleased, the modifications he made to track a scent worked. Looks like Mr Wilson was the only one who used it and it comes out near an elevator. Only other trace we could find was on the ground floor." Rangin looks piously towards the ceiling, "Unfortunately, we did have to check every floor and so had to stop at every level going up. Such is the requirement for scientific accuracy." He grins back at Kylah, "More interesting was that trace passed by a couple of security cameras, so it looks as though he didn't leave his apartment until after midnight, otherwise he would have been spotted."

Rangin pauses, "Actually, has anyone heard from Lt. Delaney about the transporter?"
"

Kylah gives a sympathetic tilt of her head toward Rangin when he mentions the oaths. It probably should fall to her to do the drudgery administrative tasks, but rather fortunately she knows she needs to be involved with the Fastolfe interview. Soon he finishes relating his findings about Wilson's apparent movements.

She contemplates the facts. They know Wilson arrived at his suite at 23:12. And there was a final message left to him at 23:03*. Who was that from, again? I must be losing my memory, I cannot remember who contacted him so late... While Velir finishes his report, Kylah listens but also decides to double-check her transcript of the messages from Wilson's communicator.

Velir's question about Delaney makes Kylah look up again. "For that matter, where is Dr. T'Var? Mr. Graham, did you give her an assignment while I was with Mrs. Hsu?"

* See posts #1619 and #1620. Although Kylah checked the two messages from Mrs. Hsu and the last message at 23:03, I don't think we ever got the info about that last message.

Dobson adjusts her scan for greater detail, and moves it slowly across the spot. She hopes to find out whose residue it actually is, although she suspects it may be Wilson's.

Graham accepts the coffee with a nod and closes his eyes as he takes a sip. He collects his thoughts for a moment and listens to the others.

"Ah - I left the Doc to her own discretion...Not sure what she chose to do." He shakes his head. "Sloppy, I should check in with her."

He blows a deep breath out. "Anyway, we should start the questions with a veiled threat that any relatives living in Federation space will be the subject of undesired legal attention if the respondent doesn't cooperate..." He shrugs. "Obviously as a Coridanite you'd be highly credibly administering such an oath, Mr. Rangin--any objections?" He rubs his head. "Joking--uh, of course," he adds, not entirely sure if Rangin (or others) would find it obvious that he was.

"Standard demographics - DOB, planet of origin, species, gender. Job title, typical duties and work schedule. Specific time on and off the clock night of the murder." He rubs his chin. "Location between 2300 and 0100, and anyone who could corroborate. Computer should be able to cross-tabulate all that data to look for any funky patterns."

He takes another sip of coffee, which reduces the pain in his head. "Did they know Wilson, see anything unusual that day and night, know of any reason someone would wish him harm."

He purses his lips. "Have the ever been arrested for a crime under Federation law, do they have any weapons of any type on the station, would they voluntarily consent to have their quarters searched. Don't really expect this to generate much but may put people a little off balance. Then, again--and your specific time on and time off the clock the night of the murder was... Wrap it up with is there anything you believe Starfleet security should know about at this time."

"Uh--" he glances around at the others. "Ideas, input? Given how little of this coffee I've had yet I may have missed something." He pauses. "Oh, and really was kidding about the heavy hand--the officers administering the oaths should do everything to encourage cooperation, and watch for anyone who in spite of this adopts an bad attitude."

Crewman Dobson's scan reveals that the carpet spot, which is invisible to the naked eye, contains minute traces of dried human blood. She cross-checks with the murder investigation evidence database accumulated so far, and can plainly see that the blood's DNA is a match for Mr. Wilson.

Dr. T'Var walks into the CP and says, "Ah, you're back. I went to have another word with Dr. Halsey, but he was not in."

Kylah's lungs freeze in mid-inhale when Graham makes a sarcastic reference to the corruption on Coridan--and the notion that such venality comes naturally to all of its people.

She looks across at Velir, her mouth parted and eyes wide in stricken sympathy. Of course Graham claims it was a joke, but... how could he not understand this might be a painful subject? Either he despises Velir or he is utterly tone-deaf, Kylah thinks with a flash of contempt, wishing she were sitting beside Velir right now. It is not her place to defend Velir--he can stand up for himself quite well--but she would dearly love to show him, somehow, that she is outraged on his behalf.

Although she hardly wants to listen to the rest of Graham's words, Kylah pays enough attention to hear some of his suggestions. Her lips tighten. We asked neither Dr. Halsey nor the Hsus about their criminal backgrounds or private weaponry, and certainly never asked to search their quarters. I suppose it is only the 'nobodies' who are fair game. Yet these noble Federation humans cast aspersions on others as being corrupt?

This is not the act of a haphazard geyser. It is callous cruelty. Kylah has lost all confidence in Starfleet security officers.

T'Var enters before anyone can speak--and before Graham can answer Velir's question about Delaney. Kylah does not spare a look for the Vulcan, focusing her compassionate attention on Velir.

"This is likely the murder scene," Dobson blurts out, then adds "Sir." She hands the tricorder to Delaney so that he, too, can see the evidence.

Rangin carefully places his coffee on the table, and slowly clasps his hands together in front of him, looks down at the floor for a moment and then straight at Ens. Graham.

"Mr...Graham. It has been a long day already. Now is not the time for attempts at jocularity, especially when it comes to your implied suggestions towards the staff of this resort. You appear to be missing your sense of judgement and my idea would be for you to take a five minute break to compose yourself, before you commit to text the questions you would like to be asked. That way, there is no uncertainty about precisely what you mean."

Rangin reaches down and takes a sip of the coffee before carefully replacing it on the table. "As for administering the oath, well Cmdr. Vargas did imply that I was best placed to carry that important role. That is all."

He blanks Ens. Graham and turns to Dr T'Var, "Unless there has been an emergency, I wonder why Dr Halsey is not in the infirmary unless...well of course, it's lunchtime. I wonder if we should eat here or perhaps one of the restaurants.", Rangin turns to Kylah, "Would you care to go for a bit to eat?"

Delaney looks at the tricorder and says, "Could be. I remember what was found in the autopsy and the blood left in the park were less than his body's total blood volume. Obviously Wilson left some of it here." A further scan detects nothing else of interest. "Let's go to the CP and check in with the others," Delaney continues. "Mr. Hsu, would you like to come with us?"

The WR&R security chief says, "Sure. Lead the way."

"On your six, Sir" Dobson also follows Delaney.

Impressed--but not surprised--by Velir's restraint, Kylah shifts her gaze from him to Graham. As dearly as she wants to accept Velir's invitation, she worries about accepting before Graham agrees to allow the break. It does seem important to get the forms to the staff as quickly as possible, and meanwhile an interview with Lord Fastolfe is long overdue.

"Perhaps..." she says tentatively, "...perhaps we can work out the wording of the forms first, so that if we do take a lunch break, at least they may be created by one of the crewmen--someone who has not been on duty for so many hours? If we all work together..." Kylah looks up at T'Var for help in smoothing this awkward situation, then returns to Graham, "it should not be so difficult. For example, I would recommend a less thorough form to begin with. Identification and an account of their schedule, together with asking the last time they saw Mr. Wilson, might be sufficient. With respect, I think the criminal background might be excessive. Regardless of what they tell us, we will have to run background checks on them anyway, to confirm what they say. As for the permission to search--I do not think we should ask for that until we are immediately ready to follow through. Why give someone time to dispose of something incriminating, if it exists?"

Kylah moistens her lips and adds, "Besides, we have not even asked the people who seem to have worked most closely with Mr. Wilson such questions, nor searched their rooms. We should not treat their underlings with greater scrutiny than we show toward the Hsus or Halsey. Do you not agree, Mr. Graham?" After a slight hesitation, she turns back to Velir. "Mr. Rangin?

"You're dismissed," Graham says heavily, closing his eyes. "I mean... you're free to go, get something to eat..."

He opens his eyes and looks toward Kylah, pointing briefly at her. "Of course you're right, Mr. Kylah. There's no good that can come out of tripping up some poor bastard who's shy about a record of jaywalking on Mars with perjury charges..." he shrugs and shakes his head. "Nor do we have the time for it. Once we have names we run priors and we can focus on anyone with a violent past as needed."

He stands and shuffles toward the door. "I don't see that your skills are needed to administer the oath, Mr. Rangin, especially since you've been up as long as the rest of us." He pauses before opening the door. "Everyone take 30 and meet back here--Fastolfe is next on the agenda. Just--before this break, Mr. Rangin, convey the questions, minus criminal record, weapons and search permission--to Mr. Mahmoud and tell him I'd like a couple Security officers to get the process rolling with the staff."

Graham feels slightly ill and is too distracted to register Rangin's rejection of his attempt at humor. Instead he's thinking of desperate people who were backed into a corner--he has no qualms whatsoever about getting leverage over a real suspect through tricky or no-win questions. But the kind of callous behavior that would treat some small-time loser trying to start again and hold a job by hiding some past petty crime from that would probably prevent an employer like WR&R from hiring them as collateral damage just for the sake of sped is something he objects to strongly.

Except you almost just might have done it, he thinks. Tired? Sloppy? Becoming the kind of officer you despise? He wonders, wincing: As you've become the kind of father you'd despise?

He opens the door. "I ah... I'm taking a walk."

Startled, Kylah hesitates for a second or two before rising from her chair to waylay the mission leader. She's about to reach a hand out to stop him but jerks it backward before contact is made. She is too fractious to touch someone else right now.

"Mr. Graham," she says, her voice hurried and more than a little nervous: "You--I mean--I think you've forgotten that we have not heard from Lt. Delaney. I know you are tired and we can all use some time, but... perhaps the whole team should be accounted for prior to the break?"

Graham's shoulders slump a little. Another oversight...at the same time, he feels a glimmer of...pride? He's been trying to help the younger officer overcome whatever's been plaguing her, and her initiative now is gratifying to see.

Of course, it's probably in spite of you rather than because of your efforts, Booker, bear that in mind, he thinks.

Without turning around he woodenly pulls out and opens his communicator. "Graham to Delaney. Status, lieutenant? We're contemplating a short break now."

Rangin stands quietly by Kylah and whispers to her carefully, while Graham is opening his communicator. "Thanks, and you are quite right about the forms. I'll tidy them up and pass them onto Ens. Mahmoud." He steps away wishing he could spend time closer to her, but knowing that won't be possible. Well, he hopes, at least not until later.

He sits down and taps out Graham's suggested questions amending certain details and keeping it specific to the night in question remembering that the people giving statements are witnesses and not suspects. It appeared that Ens. Graham had lost the ability to tell the difference.

"Standard demographics:
Job title?
Typical duties and work schedule?
The specific time on and off the clock night of the murder?
Their location between 2200 and 0200?
Any notable events that occured?
Which people did the see or encounter during that time?
Anything that occurred they might consider out of the ordinary or guests acting unusually?"

Rangin looks over it, it seems simple enough, but its always worth a second check.

"Dr T'Var, Sir, please could you come and check these questions to see if they are suitable." Hopefully the good doctor would be more useful than their current team leader.

Delaney answers at once, "I'm returning with Crewman Dobson and Mr. Hsu." They arrive at the CP shortly, and Delaney asks Dobson to make a full report, which she does. Delaney yawns widely and says, "A break sounds good. I feel like I'm running on fumes."

Dr. T'Var says to Rangin with a kind smile, "Please call me 'Doctor' or 'ma'am,' Ensign, and not 'sir.'" She looks over the questionnaire and suggests adding the questions, "When and where did you last see Resort Director Anthony Wilson alive, and what was he doing?" and "Do you know of any person with a motive to murder Mr. Wilson?" She also thinks you might get better responses if the form says in bold, "All answers will be held in confidence, and those you may designate as suspect(s) will not be told that you were the person who did so."

Kylah tries to listen to both Dobson's report as well as T'Var's suggestions. Her eyes widen at the evidence of blood traces in the conference room. Could that be the real murder scene? But why so little blood? Was he transported the instant the knife entered his body? She says nothing but nods encouragingly at Dobson--for what little her approval is worth.

She catches the very end of T'Var's recommendations to Velir, and moves a little closer to them. She is still feeding off the pleasure of hearing Velir's soft voice in her ear moments earlier. As mild as his statement was, his warm appreciation might as well have been a gentle hug.

"I wonder if asking explicitly about a 'motive to murder' might be narrowing things down too much, Doctor. This might lead people to omit some seemingly minor argument just because he or she did not think it could have led to murder. After all, for most of us, any disagreement would not lead us to kill. But one person's petty argument could be another's rationale to kill. What do you think of changing this to: 'Do you know of any recent personal or professional differences between Mr. Wilson and anyone else?' Perhaps framing it that way that would make a witness less likely to brush aside something that might be important."

Rangin listens to both Dr T'Var and Kylah and nods along to both suggestions.

"Firstly, my apologies Ma'am, I'll be sure to remember that for the future. Second for the questions, I think yes we should add in the one about when did they last see Mr Wilson alive and what he was doing, but I agree with Ens. Kylah that we should amend it to being about personal and professional differences instead of reasons for murder. And yes, adding a large guarantee that the statements and all data held within will be held in strict confidence is a necessity."

Rangin adds the final few pieces to the list and leans back so the others can see. "Thank you very much, here's hoping we get something useful from it."

Rangin packages it up with the forms and staff list and sends the lot to Ens Mahmoud as he was requested, copying in Ens Graham, with all the details about the forms and the questions. He also adds that Mrs Hsu will be providing a room and some extra staff to assist in taking the statements. If there are any problems Ens. Rangin will be happy to help out.

Rangin lets out a sigh of relief, "Ok done. Time for a break, and then frankly I want to take a look at the crime scene Crewman Dobson found. I wonder if there is any security footage of people entering that room before midnight when the cameras got shut off?"

He looks up at Doctor T'var and Kylah, "So, whats next?"

Dr. T'Var nods. "Yes, you're right, that would be an even better question. Thank you, Ens. Kylah."

Kylah nods, glad to have offered something useful. She eyes Graham while answering Velir's question. "I suppose our next move will depend if Mr. Graham wishes to act in light of Lt. Delaney and Crewman Dobson's discovery. I do not know what it could mean--except that if Mr. Wilson was murdered in that conference room, it seems more likely that a staff member was involved. As if the use of the transporter and the manipulation of the security cameras weren't enough proof of that."

Turning back to Velir, she gives him a quick smile. "If we do take a break, then perhaps lunch would be a good idea." Suddenly she realizes it would be awkward to leave Dr. T'Var out--as much as she wishes to be alone with Velir--and so she hastily adds: "What do you think, Doctor? Unless you prefer to keep looking for Dr. Halsey..."

"Either would be fine with me," the Vulcan healer says. "I defer to Ens. Graham's wishes."

On hearing Delaney and Dobson's report, Graham perks up a little. "That's...great. Excellent work, Lieutenant, Mr. Dobson."

Rather than leave as he'd intended Graham paces the CP, speaking to no one and everyone at the same time. "A meeting room...why?" He shrugs. "How about a meeting. Wilson called in someone, or someone--maybe several someones--wanted to meet with Wilson. So it goes bad, or it was a setup--" he shakes his head. "Why the hell beam the knife to the park? Whoever pulled this off had enough tech savvy to beam the murder weapon untraced to the far side of the planet..."

He pauses and puts his hands on his hips, then picks up on T'Var's comment about deferring to his wishes. "Uh, look, this is important, exciting information. But I, ah, it's still important, I think, that everybody take a short break - to do whatever we each need to do to come back at this fresh. Or as fresh as we can be, under the circumstances." He feels as if he almost pulls a muscle in his neck trying to resist the inclination to glance at Kylah, given his disastrous encounter with her earlier. "If you want to eat, do it. If you want to get together and discuss the case, do that -- if it will help you - but if you need to take a shower or watch your favorite comedy vid for 20 minutes do that instead." He rubs his neck. "All I ask is that we meet back here in 30 ready to quickly update our theory of the case based on all that we've learned, and our interview list - I propose Fastolfe as number one on deck, but after that - fair game for new or re-interviewing based on what we've learned."

"Mr Graham, I've sent those details to Ens. Mahmoud as you requested."Rangin addresses him politely across the room before turning to Dr T'var and Kylah. "Thirty minutes, shower and a bite to eat at the research station out of the resort, something more leisurely here, or perhaps any other ideas?"

"It will take most of the thirty minutes to walk to the station, shower, and walk back," Kylah says, uneasy at the thought of spending that time alone with T'Var. Or perhaps she has forgotten last night, she thinks with dim hope. "I would be content to just... sit somewhere quiet." Her glance toward Velir turns meaningful with the unspoken: With you.

T'Var says, "I will meditate out in the gardens."

Delaney says, "I'm going to get a quick bite from the replicator, and then take a little nap, I think."

"I will be outside in the Sun" Dobson tells the others.

Graham contemplates saying something else and then thinks better of it: Delaney and Dobson's discovery is progress, and it's best to start the break on a high note.

If he takes his own advice seriously, the smartest thing to do would be to go to the gym and clear his head with some exercise.

But why start doing the smart thing now, he thinks, as instead he heads toward the gift shop to find something for Bennett.

Although the others have departed the room one by one, Crewman Markovich is still here, and Kylah is too self-conscious to smile at Velir the way she wants to. Having dodged a phaser blast by T'Var deciding to be alone, Kylah now wonders if it would be just as rude to exclude Markovich. She would have supposed he and Dobson would have teamed up for lunch, but perhaps they are not friends despite working together. Or will he be guarding the CP? she wonders.

She decides to let Rangin choose whether to be polite or not. Keeping her demeanor casual, she gestures airily toward the door. "Would you care to get something to eat, Mr. Rangin? I do not remember seeing an outdoor eating area, or an atrium with a nice view, but perhaps we could find a peaceful place to enjoy some lunch?"

As he watches the others leave, Rangin hears Kylah ask him about lunch with the others already heading out of the door. "Yes, Mr Kylah, that would be a good idea and I think we could both do with some time to unwind given how today started and has continued."

He stands up and looks across at Crewman Markovich, "Thank you for your work, you did well. If you want to take thirty minutes before returning, I would suggest you may prefer enjoying a look around the resort or getting a bite to eat in one of the restaurants, to letting Ensign Mahmoud know you are available given he is now in charge of taking witness statements. Oh and the food is first class, on expenses but don't go overboard, and you may not get another chance for a while. Choice is yours." Rangin smiles at the Crewman before turning back to Kylah.

With his face hidden from Markovich, Rangin's face breaks into a broad smile of happiness as he looks into her eyes, though his voice stays the same "So shall we go, perhaps if we find some snacks from somewhere, we can find somewhere quiet on the grounds to unwind."

The way Velir looks at her... Kylah is warm and pleasantly nervous and embarrassed all at once. How can I feel this way? I do not deserve to be this happy. After her behavior to Collins and now Collins's situation, and the grim sight of Wilson's body, and her lies to Mrs. Hsu, and the frightening confrontation with Graham, and above all last night with Jan... She cannot explain how she can now take such delight in the expression on Velir Rangin's face. Except for the fact that it is so new for her. It is not avarice or lust or manipulation or ambition. He just likes her. This man, this good man, likes her. Wants to be with her.

"If you do leave," she adds to Markovich, shaking her head to clear it somewhat. "Please ensure everything is locked. And perhaps one of the security team members should be asked to stand down here as a guard? Thank you."

She leaves the room with Velir and walks down the corridor with him. Their arms are only inches from each other and while they do not touch, she is very aware of his nearness. Only when they are some yards away from the CP and safely alone does she turn her head up to beam a smile back at him. "I am so grateful that we can spend time together," she says softly. "Only two hours ago I thought I had ruined our friendship, much less... anything else."

Kylah shakes her head, not wanting to talk about anything too serious. The time for that will arrive, will have to arrive, soon enough. "Yet here we are. What do you want to do now, Velir?"

"I don't mind staying here," Markovich says, settling into a chair at the large table. He pulls a monitor towards him. "I think I'll just read a little."

Graham finds the gift shop empty but for the sales clerk, an attractive young Bolian woman. "May I help you, sir?"

Graham clears his throat. Twice. "Ah, I'm looking for a gift for a...a colleague. Human, female."

Shit, Booker, why don't you read a goddamned rap sheet on Bennett to the clerk? he thinks.

He clears his throat again. "I mean, she's a young woman, like you..." He glances and notices various forms of lingerie on racks in the store and feels heat rising in his cheeks and a drop of sweat on his forehead. He adds quickly, "Uh, who just got promoted. I was thinking soap, or something like that. She likes jasmine and roses."

"Certainly, sir," the clerk says. "We have a number of Eustace & Nash soaps available, they're very good... let's see... yes, here's a jasmine soap. Nothing rose-scented among our soaps, but we do have rose perfume from Gordon's of Proxima Centauri. Quite popular." She shows both to Graham; either, he thinks, would be a nice gift.

Graham silently curses the the fact that there is no rose-scented soap and that there is a rose scented perfume.

Ah to hell with it, he thinks. Maybe it's too...forward. Romantic. Out of line. But get her the damned perfume.


"Uh, I, ah...I think the perfume would be, ah...nice. Great. Could you put that in a nice box or something....uh, thank you."

As he and Kylah walk side by side, Rangin feels the tension of the day beginning to release. For whatever reason, she makes him feel good. Yes, she is actually quite beautiful, but that isn't it. It's that personality, the way she stands forward that Rangin most appreciates. That and the fact that they just seem to click.

"A few hours ago, I thought I had lost you as a friend. I don't want to happen again. Now, I wasn't joking about the snacks and a quiet place to unwind and it will be even better in your company. We should be able to find somewhere around that is peaceful and undisturbed. What do you say?" Rangin looks across, waiting for an answer. It doesn't matter what they do, just spending some time with her is enough.

* * *

Kylah agrees readily. "Perhaps we can get something at OtherWorldly we may take elsewhere? I must eat something that will bolster my energy. I nearly fell asleep during the last meeting. I envy Lt. Delaney's ability to sleep for a mere half-hour. I cannot nap. I would wake up feeling worse than ever."

She slants a measuring glance at him, taking her usual pleasure from his attractive, good-natured face. "I do not know how you do it, Velir. With so little rest, how can you still manage to be so... so you?"

She cannot articulate what she means, but really, it's all she needs to say. Velir is Velir. He is no emotionless Vulcan, but even when pushed, he remains calm yet forceful, controlled yet never passive. It is one of the traits she most admires in him--probably because she so lacks it herself.

***

Rangin looks back at her with a grin. "Well, who else would I be if not me?" He remains silent as they walk into Otherworldly and looks around until he finds a waiter. While Kylah stays behind, he talks to the restaurant staffer and asks if they can prepare a few small dishes and some water to go. Remembering Kylah's preference for eating without utensils, he specifies a Coridan dish that consists of rolled pockets of lightly fried pastry containing a variety of fillings, both savoury and sweet.

Before the waiter leaves, Rangin also asks him if he knows of a place outside that would be suitable for two people who wish to have a peaceful, private lunch. He might be imagining it, but it seems as if when hearing the word 'private,' the waiter gives a knowing glance back at Kylah and Rangin before responding with directions to a picnic area, then heading to the kitchen.

"I wonder what he is thinking?" Rangin murmurs on his way back to find Kylah. Then, to her, he adds: "I've ordered a variety of stuff, I hope you like it. And I hope he's not too long bringing it out."

***

While waiting for Velir to place the order, Kylah spent some time glancing out of the entrance, a bit uncomfortable. She does not remember how close they are to Giuseppe's, but she has no interest in seeing that restaurant again if she can help it Her attention gladly flicks back to her companion once he returns to her and mentions his impatience for the food to arrive quickly.

Kylah quickly erases her anxious expression and changes to a smile. "I am very hungry, too. And I will not even ask what you ordered. I remember how perfect that hamburger was back on Starbase 27. Your taste in food can clearly be trusted."

After their orders arrive, they leave the restaurant carrying the wrapped dishes in their arms. Kylah follows Rangin's lead, since he seems to have received some advice on where they can eat. The restaurant's back exit takes them to a wide, green area dotted with trees, scattered tables, a bubbling fountain, and best of all, almost complete solitude.

They walk several yards until Rangin gestures toward a tree with a thick trunk and sheltering branches above that dapples the sunlight beneath them. Together they sit and unpack the food. The grass has a freshly mown scent, and the dew from this morning seems to have evaporated. It is the perfect place, Kylah thinks happily.

While her fingers are busy unwrapping the dishes, a slight scowl lowers Kylah's brow. Her expression turns sober. "Velir... you joked when I said that, before--about you being you. I know you are a humble person by nature, but I do want you to know..." She lifts a hand so that her fingers just barely brush the sleeve of his uniform to catch his attention. "You have made this mission as bearable as it can be. Aside from the tragedy of Mr. Wilson, and my own--everything that--" She cuts herself off. Why would she mention that now?

Embarrassed, she looks down at the wrapping and sees the array of savory and sweet pastries, together with some unidentifiable fruits and two carafes of cold water. She picks up a pastry and passes the plate to him, then tears at the food in her hands absently. "But I am so grateful for how you keep us all sane. As sane as this particular team can be, at any rate. And your moral compass is so true. The way you stand up for yourself, for the rest of us on the crew. And even for the suspects and witnesses."

She nibbles at the pastry, which turns out to have spicy meat of some kind mixed with diced root vegetables. "And the way you have been with Mr. Graham. I know it has not been easy, those comments he made about Coridan... If he were not the mission leader, you would have had every right to defend yourself. He is not your superior. And yet I suspect you would still have treated him with dignity. More dignity than he affords you--or even himself. He treats you in public the way Collins treated me in private. It is not right."

His hazel eyes are warm but she cannot read them, and she will not use her abilities to invade his privacy. Still, she presses on. "When I am insulted like that, I take it too much to heart and believe every word--or I get outraged and lash out. But you are so self-possessed. How did you become that way, Velir? How can you take those insults and not react with either anger or self-reproach?"

* * *

Rangin accepts the dish and leans back on one elbow while listening to Kylah. He looks over her as she speaks, seeing how she seems to fret over the question, the way she holds her hands together, her hair, slightly loose, framing her features. Its the first time that Rangin has really looked at Kylah while in a calm and relaxed area and he gazes contentedly as the sun outlines her.

"I'll answer briefly if only because we are here for a break. The answer is a mixture of practice and the realisation that in general, it is not worth it. Graham may make his comments about Coridan, but I know he is wrong and I know that in time he will be shown to be wrong. When it comes to defending others, if I don't, could I be sure that others would in my place? Better it be me stepping forward and perhaps be wrong, get criticised and so on, than for no one step up at all." Rangin reaches over for one of the other dishes and passes some back to Kylah.

"But enough about me, what about you? How did someone from such a notable family wind up in Starfleet? I know so little about you and would love to learn more."

Without realising, Rangin finds himself unconsciously resting his hand on the ground close to Kylah, holding it out in a gesture--as if asking for her to reciprocate.



Kylah's dialogue by choie, Rangin's by CatInASuit.

The sales clerk says to Graham, "Certainly, sir. I have a gift box that will fit it nicely." She quotes a price for the perfume that is the equivalent of two weeks' pay.

Kylah's fingers nearly drop the small, vegetable-filled pastry when Velir asks about her path to Starfleet. She does not wish to prevaricate, but she cannot tell the full story. Not only will Velir despise her, but should the truth come out, it could land her in prison, harm her family, put her planet's alliance with the Federation in jeopardy--it could even, conceivably, begin a war. Really, there is no alternative but to lie. Or at least, omit a great deal of the truth.

And he is holding his hand out to her, he wants to connect. Last night she shrank from touching him. Will she lie now even while taking this offer of affection? Is she that greedy? That hungry for companionship?

Yes.

After a quick glance around, she then stares at his outstretched fingers lying in the warm grass. Slowly she inches her hand forward, letting the pads of her fingertips rest on his, then curls them so their hands are gently clasping one another. It is not like last night. There are no spores to electrify each nerve. As always the physical connection enhances her empathic abilities. She feels a swift rush of gentle pleasure, both her own and his. She also feels his surprise. But unlike last night, there is no burning need, no heady lust. Only warmth.

"I joined Starfleet because there was no better option," she says softly. "When I turned sixteen, my un--the head of the Regency Council gave me three choices for my future. The first two were both marriages. I would either marry a political ally from another planet, or I would have to accept..." She flushes and shakes her head. "It does not matter. They were not palatable. The final option was to join Starfleet."

Kylah casts her gaze across the lush grass. Not even the tiniest insect stirs the blades. "Thus, here I am. I wish I could say my decision sprang from a nobler desire--to educate myself, to explore and discover new worlds, learn new languages. But in the end, it was the only path that did not sicken me." She tosses her head, refusing to let the past ruin this otherwise lovely outing. "Happily my low expectations were greatly surpassed. I have learned so much, and met so many people." She tilts her face forward, letting her hair cascade forward to block her from seeing anyone but Velir. "What about you? Why Starfleet, and why xenobiology?"

* * *

There is a sudden rush of warmth and surprise Kylah takes his hand unexpectedly. He can feel them shiver slightly in his grasp as she mentions why she was in Starfleet, no wonder given the choices she had. The touch is gentle and he lets he hand rest on his, glad to be near her and letting the rest of the world become an abstraction.

"Well, I'm glad you did, otherwise I might never have met you." Rangin sees Kylah shake her hair and watches as the sunlight ripples through the strands casting waves and shadows across her face. A face that still looks so young for someone who has probably been through so much.

When she asks about Coridan, Rangin stops and thinks back to why he left. There are some events that he could not tell Kylah about, not yet, some reasons as to why being off planet is a boon to be suffered through instead of being back on Coridan. But he is not going to let it show, there are enough good reasons as to why he is in Starfleet, enough to mask the others.

"Xenobiology first. I always liked animals and if I wasn't here I'd probably be a vet somewhere on Coridan. I used to go out camping into the woods nearby to go and look at the animals and study them, regardless of how safe it was." Predators, poachers, illegal mining operations... thinks Rangin. "When I grew up I did well enough academically to get into Cordas University studying what I always wanted. Lots of different types of animals and then offworld species. I also met a lot of new races, species, call it what you will, in Cordas and I got interested in trying to go further.

"Given Starfleet involvement, there was a quiet campaign to see if any Coridanites would be interested in joining as a an example. I jumped at the chance. It meant seeing more species than ever before and so here I am. And all the more welcome for it."

It hadn't been quite that simple, given interest from the Orion Syndicate, a couple of incidents with some illegal mines and a small diplomatic incident, it had been decided the Velir Rangin might be better off world in Starfleet.

Rangin looks across into Kylah's eyes meeting her gaze, "I'd just like to say thanks for being here, relaxing in the sunshine. If we get the chance would you like to do the same this evening?"

* * *

It is difficult, with such a tactile connection to Velir, for Kylah to hide her reactions to what she feels occurring inside him. Guilty, she almost wishes she could pull away; he clearly would not want her to know what she can so easily sense: that he's hiding something--for her, the difference between his words and the fluctuating emotions is quite literally palpable.

But she does her best to block out everything else but the sound of his voice, the intent and information in his speech. She appreciates his fondness for animals. She has always loved them as well. They can be chaotic but also calming. So much simpler than most humanoid races.

When he asks about tonight, she smiles. "We may find it difficult to relax in any sunshine during the evening," she says with a teasing lilt in her voice. "But yes. If we are off-duty and still on the planet, I would like it very much. Not that I would wish to delay solving the crime, but spending more time with you..."

She does not bother continuing. He must see her affectionate stare--it would not take an empath to know how she feels.

* * *

Rangin can see the look in her eyes. It's one he has seen before and his heart races slightly as he returns it. It lasts for a few seconds until there is a quiet grumble from his midsection. Rangin blushes and smiles in embarrassment, "I think my stomach is trying to ruin the moment." He looks down trying to stifle a laugh. "We have all this food and we've hardly touched it. Let's eat before its wasted."

He reaches down and picks up another savoury. "Here, try one of these, it's fairly tasty." Rangin parcels the food out to both of them. "We only have a few minutes before we have to return, but I feel so much better for this." He squeezes Kylah's hand that he has still been holding before releasing it. "Thanks once again."

* * *

The physical connection breaks and Kylah feels the familiar tug and release in her brain, as if a thin rope has been slipped from her grasp. Losing an empathic link is usually a relief; right now she feels emptier without Velir's spirit enmeshed with hers. "Thank you," she murmurs, and like Velir returns to finish their eclectic meal.

A comfortable silence--interrupted only by the soft crunch of the pastries--settles around them. Kylah pops the final bite of her fourth vegetable roll into her mouth and leans forward to grasp her water glass. She sips it, smiling, as she looks at Velir enjoying his food so voraciously, and then turns to look back toward the resort grounds. This is probably the most relaxed she's been in three days. With the warm sun and light breeze, Kylah wishes she could lie down and nap. Her head resting against Velir's chest, perhaps, his arm around her...

The thought makes her smile wider and she lifts her glass to drain it. It is almost unseemly to feel this good during a murder investigation. But she cannot help it.

Dobson decides she will go back in early, so she sets her chronometer for 5 minutes before the end of the break. She sits on a bench and tilts her head towards the sky, letting the warmth of the system's star bathe her.

Dobson basks in the warm glow of Omicron Ceti. She knows she has quite awhile to go yet before the Berthold rays kill her.

Kylah sees Jan Švehla at a distance, reading something on a data pad as he slowly walks through the gardens. The Czech businessman does not seem to have noticed her yet.

As the meal comes to an end, Rangin gathers up the litter to make sure the place remains tidy before standing up and stretching. "That was wonderful." he says quietly as he closes his eyes reaching upwards and feeling the suns rays on him.

After he finishes he offers a hand to Kylah to help her up as he squints down at her, the sunlight still affecting his eyes. "Come on, its to go back and start again."

Kylah almost chokes on the water when she recognizes the blonde-haired man in the distance--not nearly distant enough--and automatically takes a sharp inward breath. The delicious meal now churns in her stomach. She sets the glass down, practically dropping it.

Despite the warm air and open, wide grounds surrounding her, she feels ice cold and hemmed in. Trapped. Do not let him see me, please do not let him see me!

Velir Rangin's voice and extended hand startle her. He might as well be using an unknown language, because it takes her mind several seconds before it translates what he says into recognizable words.

For an instant she thinks he heard her silent prayer, as if she had spoken it aloud. It is all she can do just to tear her gaze from Jan, stare up at Velir for a second, and then lower her head again, practically shrinking from him. Slowly she understands that he wants them to leave. To leave now, at the worst possible moment. She is terrified of attracting attention to herself by moving from this spot. Say something, you fool, she commands herself wildly. Say anything--anything to remain here!

She forces words through her clenched jaw. "Not yet. I do not want to go right now. Please, can we just--can we stay a few moments longer?" The attempt at a quiet, casual response fails; even she can hear how intense and strangled she sounds. She realizes her hands have curled around the grass, holding onto it for dear life.

Dobson's chronometer beeps. She stands up, checks herself to make sure her uniform is in order, and heads back in to the CP.

Graham had no idea how much perfume of any sort would cost, but is not surprised by the price, as he assumes most everything at the resort will come at a premium (justified or not). However, he hopes Bennett won't know how expensive it actually is. Explaining I don't really have anything else to spend money on, and that just giving a good person a pleasant surprise is worth a lot given my track record in the last, oh, decade, could be awkward... he thinks.

He pays, thanks the clerk, and once outside contacts the ship to have the package beamed up and stowed in his quarters. Then he takes a deep breath and head back toward the CP.