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

"I'm sorry for causing so much trouble."

"He's normally so gentle."

"I'm not worth it."

Graham waits quietly for the resolution of Kylah's request to speak with him, meanwhile ticking off each text book sign of why a piece of shit like Rangin would have targeted her and seized upon her fears like some kind of blood-fattened bug that needed to be smashed into body oblivion between two fists.

But it's not about him now, it's about being supportive for her, he reminds himself, we can have him performing his song and dance for the JAG in due time.

Despite trying to get in the right headspace, he's peeved that it's taking Collins so long to get with the program. Is it just lack of experience? Falling for Rangin's bullshit? Did she skip the the Academy class on abusers?

T'Var mulls over Kylah's request for a moment before answering.

"Mr. Graham may speak with you alone briefly," the doctor says. "However, Mr. Collins and I will be right outside. If at any time I feel you are becoming more distraught, no one will be allowed in this room until such time as I see fit."

T'Var gives Graham a stern look. "Do I make myself clear?"

Graham is glad to hear T'Var taking responsibility for safeguarding Kylah's room--few better on the ship to do it, he thinks.

But then he's confused why she gives him the hairy eyeball. Protective of her patient versus...anyone? She saw what happened plain as I did...Or is the kind of control scum like Rangin have over their targets too illogical for Vulcans to easily appreciate?

"Uh...sure..." Graham replies, puzzled, then quickly adds, moved by T'Var's pretty compelling projection of authority. "Ma'am."

T'Var and Collins step into the Sickbay central ward outside, and the door whooshes shut behind them. Graham and Kylah are alone.

Rangin strides down the corridor, not far from Sickbay, oblivious to all who pass by. Something in his expression keeps them from saying anything to him. He does not, for the moment, know where he is going.

Kylah shows her gratitude toward T'Var and Collins with her gaze more than her murmured thank you. When the door closes behind the two women, leaving her with Graham, she continues to hug her bag to her like a security blanket, as dirty and torn as it is.

At last she takes a preparatory breath. "Mr. Graham," she says, her voice sounding tiny in this newly empty room. "I thank you for wishing to protect me. But I do not understand what happened just now. With you and... him. I wish you would tell me. It was too much to take in, but I heard what you said--you think he did this. I swear he did not. I do not remember everything, but even if I never recall it in a million years, I know Velir Rangin did not attack me. He could not have done such a thing, he would not. Except--" Except break her heart. But Kylah cannot say such things to Graham, so she just shakes her head and finishes softly: "Except with his words. So why do you blame him?"

Kylah casts a furtive glance at the older man. "You must think it makes no sense, my wanting to talk to you alone, after so many times when I told you I was afraid of you. But that was before last night. I need someone I can trust. And I have no one else. Not anymore. The person whom I used to trust most on this ship..." Tears betray her again, and she looks down, trying not to envision Velir's face. "He hates me," she whispers.

"But it is not that you are a--a default." She wipes her eyes and turns back to Graham, her stare earnest. "I do not mean that. I just know that after we spoke yesterday, and you told me of your daughter... I thought you would understand. I do not wish to take advantage of the confidences you shared. Please do not think that. But I have no father. I have no mother. I have only my uncle, my Guardian, and he--"

The thought of Aldaan sends an unconscious shiver through her, and she turns back to the bag in her arms. It falls down onto the bed as she remembers her dream. How angry he was at the broken zither. It was their method of communication, it was his mother's heirloom... As horrible as the dream was, and of course it was surreal and contained actions that her uncle would never perform, the truth is, Kylah is terrified of what he will do when he finds out.

She pushes the bag from her, as if by not touching it she will somehow avoid responsibility for the destroyed zither. "He is not a typical Guardian," is all she says. "I need someone else for such advice. I thought if I--if I tell you things, you might think of me, not just of rules, of Starfleet." Kylah does her best to stand again. "Mr. Graham, do you mind... is it too selfish, too presumptuous, for me to ask that of you?"

Graham sits down, trying to ensure he respects he space and maintains a little distance between them, while at the same time giving her his full attention.

I was never good at the victim interaction stuff, he thinks, trying to recall his training, and observing those who were really good at it--usually while he was standing by making sure the real pros weren't interrupted.

Nothing she says at first is a surprise: "he would not." After they talk awhile, when she's ready, he expects she'll add a word: "again."

Don't push, he reminds himself. Make sure she is in control.

And then: "He is not a typical Guardian."

Abuse perpetuates abuse. Oh no, oh dear...

For a moment Graham wonders what it must be like to be truly empathic--something he's always struggled with--because he can't imagine how much she must hurt.

For a moment, Graham teeters on the edge of being overwhelmed: Collins and T'Var don't trust me, or believe Rangin's no doubt cleverly woven tale, probably crafted well in advance for just a situation like this, the command staff don't know me, if Kylah is royalty then her uncle must be some kind of ranking official...

And then he's once again a scrawny young boy, looking up at the Starfleet Security officer who found Fiona. Who saved Fiona's life. Who showed no hesitation, no doubt, no fear.

I will never be afraid. I will never turn away.

The Grand Poobah of Elas or any other world can show up with his whole goddamned fleet and will shove his stupid alien hat up his frigging alien ass.

Graham centers himself and focuses on Kylah. It hasn't come to that yet, and it may never.

He suddenly misses Rachael Weinstein: What would she do now? She was kind of a pyscho and a discipline case herself, but she could really reach people in this...situation...well...she had been there.

"I'm here to talk about whatever you want to talk about," Graham replies quietly. "For whatever you need."

Kylah examines Graham, wondering what he knows, what he thinks he knows. She is well aware that he did not answer her question about why he blames Velir. It may just be his prejudice--he has never liked Velir. But I thought he believed Velir was a weakling, a... a pacifist of some kind. How could Graham now believe that such a man would do this?

She leans toward him unconsciously. If she could bear it, she would take his hand and measure his thoughts. But she cannot. "You say you are here for whatever I need," Kylah murmurs. Her voice is as low as it can go, without requiring her to whisper in his ear. She cannot risk this being heard. "Many men have told me that before, and it was... it was more for what they needed. But again, you are the only person I think I can trust.

"Still, I must ask you, before I say anything. As I said, I do not remember much about the--the attack. Yet I do know... at least, I thought I knew... who did it. As for why... I thought I knew that too, but that has changed." She cannot help looking back at her bag before returning to Graham. Again she wishes she dared to reach out to him, even purely mentally. Her headache makes her too vulnerable and she cannot risk the pain.

Just say it. Kylah blinks, her eyes solemn and scared. "I brought this on myself," she murmurs. "Velir would say it, and I cannot deny he would be right. I earned this. For you to understand, you have to know. But here lies my problem, Mr. Graham. I can tell you the truth. And I can tell you what I will tell Starfleet." She swallows, her throat dry. "My question to you is: if they are not the same things... will you keep my secret? Will you protect me?"

"No one earns this," Graham starts to reply. He acknowledges that he's going on training in this case, rather than what he personally believes--he can think of a number of people who have, including one on this very ship right now...

His focus on her and the here and now is tested by the look of fear in her eyes: my god, what if Lizzy was ever this scared. Has she ever been this scared?

He resists wincing when she says "Many men have told me that before...it was more for what they needed."

At least she is right that she can trust him. "Your safety is my number one concern," he concludes--with full honesty, this time.

Tired again, Kylah sinks onto the bed. She bunches the blankets in her fists, a habit from childhood, and kneads them as she contemplates what to tell Graham. My safety is his concern. Safety from what? From violence, yes. But from punishment? From my uncle's contempt? From the fate he will force upon me if I must leave Starfleet?

She stares down at her fingers, lost in the white softness she is tying into knots. "When Mr. Rangin and I went down to the planet, I... I brought my zither with me." Kylah hesitates and finally looks up at the security officer. "This is what I told him, and Lt. Thalen, and Cmdr. Vargas. I needed to have the instrument fixed. The music shop in Thoth was closed, and so we went to this bar. I do not know what the name was, but it was a... a common sort of place."

She blushes again. "That sounds elitist, I do not mean it that way. I asked the bartender if he knew where I could get my zither repaired. He knew someone, but this person would only take cash. No Federation credits. And so I had to wait for someone to exchange my money. I went to see this person in the basement of the bar. By the time I got back, Velir--Mr. Rangin--was gone. I do not know why. I suppose I was rude, I should not have left him so long.

Kylah continues the tale, just as she told Thalen, and explains about buying Velir the gift and eventually catching up with him. She says simply that Velir went back up to the ship without her. "So that is why you are wrong, Mr. Graham. He left the planet. I was alone. He could not have been involved."

She tries to gather her wits before concluding. "So I went back to the bar, down into the office, to exchange the money. It went smoothly. As I will tell Starfleet," she repeats with some emphasis, "I planned to meet the music artisan later. But... this is where I am hazy. I know I was on a street, it was getting late." Kylah closes her eyes, trying to dig into her foggy memory. "But somehow--suddenly I was not there. I was in a... a dark room. I must have been transported but I do not remember. And there were men there. I dreamt about them... I did not remember them until I dreamed them. But they were there. Their faces were blank. In masks. Then..."

Her eyes open, not seeing Graham, just seeing the black room. "They wanted the cash. That is why I told you I know who at least one of them was. It must have been the man who exchanged my money. How else would he know I was holding so much money? The bartender knew about the exchange, but it did not sound like him. The voice was familiar but, at the same time, I did not recognize it." She shrugs helplessly, unable to define what she means. "He said he would not hurt me but--but--they did. I do not remember why. I do not remember anything after they took the money. Except flashes. I woke up alone and in pain. Then I was outside, somewhere. And finally I was here. I have no idea how I got back to the ship."

After a long pause, Kylah bows her head. "That... that is what I will tell Starfleet, Mr. Graham," she says softly.

Graham resist pursing his lips, listening carefully to Kylah's story. It makes complete sense to Graham that she might concoct something to cover for him--at the same time, what she's saying now is consistent with an alternative course of events.

With his original hypothesis: they had some falling out, he left her alone... And she was the victim of a crime of a sort the local cops had seen before.

It doesn't account for "wanting to get off planet." Of course I heard that from the bartender who set her up--a goose chase, assuming we wouldn't find her...body...?

Now Graham is a lot less sure of what happened that he was five minutes ago, but he keeps his expression neutral and patient.

He nods gently. "And...what you wanted to tell me...?"

Kylah gnaws at her inner lip. She can end the tale here. He will believe her... or he will claim to. But the bartender will be questioned, and they might find the perpetrator after all. And if they reveal too much... At least if Graham knows, he might be able to cover for her.

The bald thought makes her ill. I am asking him to be complicit. I am selfish. Velir is right, he is right.

She faces the floor. "I said I trusted you," she mutters. "But what I am doing is imposing on you. You may do whatever you wish with this information. I am so tired," she adds, the words barely a breath of a sigh.

And then she begins anew. "As I said, I went down to the planet with Mr. Rangin. I did not really want to go with him. Things were... awkward. We are--we were friends, but during the last mission on OCIII, there started to be... more. The hope for more, at any rate. Except I ruined things. That first night--you know. You know what happened. Most of it." She flushes and still will not look at Graham.

"Once we returned, he would not believe that I had only been with Mr. Svejla that one time. But it was the truth, I swore it, I still swear it. To be with that man a second time would have been impossible. I did not even want it the first--" No, no, she cannot be this candid with Graham.

"Anyway. Between that, and the other rumors, and even seeing you in my room last night... Mr. Rangin would not believe me. But I am not what people think, Mr. Graham." She uses the blanket to wipe her tears away. "I promise I am not. But it did not matter. We were uncomfortable, pretending to be normal but I could tell he was giving me one last chance.

"What he did not know... what no one knows, except soon, you, is that I was giving Starfleet one last chance. I went to the planet with my zither, and two dresses, and... and my jewelry. I was going to exchange half my available Federation credits--I can spend up to 15,000 without my Uncle's being informed--into cash. And then, depending on--depending on so many things," Kylah says, shaking her head hopelessly, "I would either keep the cash just in case, or I would use it. To escape."

And then her tears spill over again. "I could not bear to be on the ship with him. Or Ferguson, or anyone else who believed what has been said of me. I know it is cowardice, I know you can have me up on charges now. But there is so much pressure on me. I cannot even tell you everything I am expected to do. My duties for my planet, they are... a burden. And I, because I am not a true daughter of Elas, wanted to escape like a little child running from home. Except I have no true home.

"After I spoke to Lt. Thalen and received permission to extend my shore leave--supposedly to fix my zither--I felt... different. Hopeful. His kindness made me feel better, and I thought perhaps I did not have to escape. So I went to buy Velir--Mr. Rangin--the present. I wanted to please him, it is all I want to do. But when I caught up with him, he had changed. He was cold--not as bad as you saw him, earlier, but very close.

"He was furious with me for making him wait at the bar. I told him the story about the zither, but he did not believe me. Instead... instead he accused me of being with another man." Kylah's tone is filled with shame. "That is what he thinks of me. The person I thought knew me best in the entire Federation believed that I would leave him in a shabby bar, go down some rickety stairwell with a stranger I had picked up, and sleep with this person in a grubby, filthy office. All while the man I truly care about was waiting for me one flight above--" The disgusting thought chokes the words in her throat, and she turns her head, aghast at the realization of what Velir believes her capable of.

"Of course I denied it but he would not listen. He said he did not want to see me. He did not want to know me. I think if he could have expunged me from his mind, he would have. And then he contacted the ship. One to beam up. He would not even ask if I would join him. I was so upset I ran, I did not want to watch him leave. But he must have beamed up then."

Kylah sniffs and, after again wiping her eyes, turns her reddened face to Graham. "So... that decided me. I was finished. I fled. I went back to the bar, I changed my clothes because I did not want any hint of Starfleet to show. And then, when the time came, I went down to meet this money exchanger. The transaction went through and he gave me a briefcase with thousands in Andorian crowns. At the time I thought it was strange that he gave me the briefcase, but..." She sighs. She quickly explains what she remembers of the rest: talking to the people from one of the ships--she does not remember the name--and trying to get to the starport.

"The rest is the same. I thought it was the money exchanger and some friends. They took my money, they took my jewelry... my mother's jewelry, the only thing she ever gave me..." Kylah is barely audible. "I suppose they must have taken my knife as well. My uniform... I do not understand that. Why did they steal that too? And what I truly do not understand: why... why did they destroy my zither? It is worth thousands. It is priceless to me for many reasons, but it is certainly valuable enough to steal, anyone who sees it can tell. Why crush it to bits the way they did? Now that I have seen it..."

She turns to the bag and delicately picks up a razor-sharp piece of stone from the zither's back. "This was not an accident. It was hurtful. It was spite. Why?" Kylah starts to cry in earnest. "Even strangers hate me. It is not fair. I gave him the money he wanted, I would have given him a bigger percentage. But he had to take it all, and my mother's things, and beat me, and do this. It is not right." Kylah throws the broken piece back in the bag and shakes her head.

"So that is the truth, Mr. Graham. If T'Var finds out, she will tell Starfleet I am unstable. Collins... I do not know, but I think she values ambition more than the fractious peace we have made. And you know what some of the other security officers think of me. Kjaerstad or Russell... if either interviews the barman or discovers the people I spoke with asking to leave the planet... I will be put in prison. Or demoted. Or quietly removed from Starfleet and sent back to Elas, where I will have to--" Kylah stops abruptly. "I will have to fulfill my duties in other ways."

Kylah puts the heel of her right hand against her exhausted eyes. "I... I have nowhere to turn. And now you see why I tell you I earned this. Aside from my cowardice, I was ignorant and naïve to think I could get away with escaping. Someone might have recognized me. Maybe someone even hired them, an enemy of Elas. Maybe they were one of the masked men. Maybe that is why they punished me. I do not know. I do not know." She finally drops her hand and stares hollowly at the man opposite her. "I am sorry, Mr. Graham. I am sorry to put this on you."

Graham can see that Kylah is exhausted. Good thing too, the thought nibbles at the back of his mind: 'cause jeez, so am I...

Kylah's story is so incredible he feels it either has to be true, or she's a terrible liar, but it would be positively sadistic to push on her story to find out now.

Just what Rangin would expect from me, he thinks--what irony. I've seen a whole lot of mean and ugly from him today, and the fact that he just might not have committed physical assault after all doesn't much change my opinion.

What if Lizzy were ever this tired, or this scared? For a moment he's looking at a young woman his daughter's age. It doesn't matter which version of her story is true: she's tired, desperate, feeling alone. And the worst thing she did wrong was be young and scared and maybe stupid. If that's a crime we're all guilty.

He shakes his head. "Don't worry about me. A lot of things have been put on me. Ah, often heavy, sharp, and wielded with malicious intent." He frowns. "I'm sorry, I guess you've just experienced that yourself."

"Hey...maybe we're part of a little club, you and I...people who went--or, ah, at least tried to go--AWOL from Starfleet," he says reassuringly. He shrugs and smiles just slightly, not sure humor is welcome but not sure where else to go. "Maybe we should have a little secret sign..." He draws his right hand out to the right and then across his buddy with a little "whoosh" like an accelerating starship.

He sees her hand lying in front of him. He extends both his hands, and folds them like a roof over hers--but stopping just short of touching hers. Let her be in control.

"Look," he begins, glancing down at their hands and then back to her face. "I don't think any of these terrible things are going to happen. I'm 100% certain there's no way they possibly could before you've had the chance to get a little rest."

He pauses and clears his throat. "I guess your impression of...ah, maybe everybody, Starfleet, men...may not be so great. But the worst you did was make a mistake. We don't abandon our people for making a mistake," he says no doubt of that in his mind. "Just..promise me not to do anything...ah, rash until you've had a chance to recover a bit, OK? Until I, uh, have had a chance to think through some of what you told me, too. I'll, um... Well, you'll be all right," he says, hoping she'll believe she can relax a little--not that he has a fully-fleshed out brilliant plan, but at least convinced that throwing her to one of take-your-pick pack of wolves is to be avoided.

Kylah's nerves feel on edge, just having Graham's hands in close proximity to hers. But she listens as best she can. "You... you went AWOL?" she whispers, staring up at him. "Will you tell me about it, some time? If it is not too personal?"

It is strange, he is not as tall as Aldaan, but he seems so much larger. Not long ago--indeed, less than twenty-four hours--rather than tolerate his nearness, she would have skittishly edged to the other side of the room. Now she is both too tired and too reliant on his goodwill to keep her distance. For better or worse, imposition or not, Kylah has put Booker Graham in the position to be her shield. She must hide behind him, and continue to trust him.

For so long, she believed Graham more judgmental than Velir. Now she thinks the older man is much more accepting of her flaws. Her innate, relentless flaws.

"I will not do anything rash," she murmurs. "I lost the opportunity to do so. If those men had not attacked me, I would not have returned to the Yorktown. I would have found my way onto some cargo ship. Changed my name, changed my life. Now... Now I am still here. On this ship that is so large, but not large enough for me to avoid him."

She looks down at his hands again. "Mr. Graham... I... I would hold your hand. I wish I could. But after what happened, I find I cannot bear to be touched. Even gently or kindly. But I want you to know that... I would do it, if I could." Kylah lifts her chin so their eyes meet. "Whatever you decide, thank you for hearing me out. For listening." After a moment of tortured thought, Kylah slips her hand from beneath his and tentatively brushes her fingertips along his sleeve, light as a feather. Then she pulls her hand back and is about to lie back down when she finds her canvas bag is in the way. Slowly she lifts it by the one working handle and places it on the floor--where she finds the small paper gift bag. She inhales deeply and sighs.

"I so wanted him to have this," she says forlornly, almost to herself. "I was so happy when I found it..."

Tired at regretful, she lies back on the bed and pulls the covers over her. "Thank you again, Mr. Graham. I will pray you are right that things will work out, but... that has not been my experience. Still, you are kind. You are kind," she repeats softly, her dark eyes pinning his in hopes that he understands just how much she means the words. As much as she tries, though, she cannot keep her eyes open for long. Before she can say a final good night she is asleep.

Graham stands for a few moments, silently, watching Kylah sleep.

Many feelings pass over Graham, but the only ones he allows to take hold are those worthy of being called "kind."

That's for out there, not in here, he thinks.

Well, almost all out there. Before he leaves quietly he turns back and carefully takes the gift bag.

He turns to watch the door close behind him as if he's watching a secure vault door close when he steps out into Sickbay.

T'Var and Collins are seated and talking quietly nearby. The doctor rises and asks Graham, "Is she all right?"

Lt. Onn is still in the big chair on the Bridge when Lt. Thalen, at the Communications station, says, "Incoming message from Thoth police, ma'am."

Nia, who has been contemplating getting in touch with Graham to find out exactly what's happening on the planet, turns to Thalen with a grateful nod. "Thanks, Lieutenant," she says, and hits her chair's comm switch to announce: "This is Lieutenant Onn of the Yorktown. Any news for us down there?"

The cold fury that had sustained Rangin in the Sick Bay is slowly dissipating and his steps become heavier as he begins to slow down and try to piece together what just happened. The only thing he is sure of that no matter what happened, Graham would not be disciplined for assaulting him. Security always stuck together. What could he do now, Kylah no longer cared about him, that is also certain. She had seen him grabbed by Graham and all she wanted to do is talk to Graham, with himself an afterthought. Again.

Feeling sick as both his mind and stomach churn, the only thing he can decide on, is that he is not going to run. Years ago, he would have been straight for a transfer elsewhere, no point staying in such a poisonous atmosphere and it was still an option, if needed. But he was going to force the issue.

Besides he had a job to do, something which would keep the others away from him, something he can use to ignore the rest of the world and the science labs were always open no matter what the time.

Stopping and slowly turning, he heads for his quarters to freshen up. A fresh purpose of the scientific in his steps, but devoid of any hint of caring anymore.

Collins also stands, but says nothing, at the moment.

Graham clears his throat. "She's...as all right as she can be, I guess given the circumstances." He adds softly with a glance back at the door. "She's asleep, now."

He turns to T'Var awkwardly. "Uh, Doc, I disobeyed your order. Under the circumstances, I thought it was necessary. But..." he pauses a moment. "I regret that it was you. If you, ah, feel the need to, uh, do something about it, I respect your decision."

Collins just watches Graham as he apologizes to T'Var. When he's done, she says "You, me, gym, now!" and once he starts walking that way follows him closely.

In the gym, she first checks to make sure no one else is there, then turns to him and yells "What is your problem, Ensign?"

The first thing that pops into Graham's mind is to yell back "I DON'T KNOW WHY YOU ARE SHOUTING AT ME!" but he decides Collins is no mood for humor.

"Well," he clears his throat and rubs his chin. He exhales deeply. "Well I don't mean to tell you our business, L-T, but we should have..." He avoids saying "you should have let me." No need to up the ante by making this personal - now they are talking business. "We should have gotten Rangin out of there immediately, before he had time for his little performance." He shakes his head slowly. "That last dose of manipulation can't have been good for Kylah."

"Agreed, but why are you so convinced that he was involved in what happened to Kylah? He was on the bridge when it happened. That aside, I now see why you lost your last promotion. You have got to listen to people when they tell you to do something. And you need to do something about your temper." Collins feels like a school teacher giving a student a time out. "I don't get it, Booker. You've been in Starfleet longer than me or Kylah or Rangin. You should be more professional. Why are you behaving like a first year cadet on his first break?"

Ironically, Graham was not angry with Collins at all, but being lectured by someone who hasn't even asked what went down before she entered the room is starting to get to him. He takes another deep breath. "Look," he says, trying not to sound heated but instinctively pointing at Collins. "I know you don't owe me the benefit of the doubt, given my big moments of stupid down on OCIII." He pauses and collects himself, speaking now as if giving a report.

"But when a suspect--" he says it matter-of-factly, reflecting his view at the time. "Lays hands on a helpless patient who says 'stop' and 'you promised you wouldn't hurt me' using a textbook compliance hold to separate him from her immediately if not a temper tantrum...it's our job." He emphasizes the last two words and folds his arms across his chest, widening his stance. There, now maybe I've piqued your curiosity and we can talk about the real problem. Problems.

"Okay. Tell me what you know, without making any assumptions as to what really happened on Anubis." Collins is calmer now. He's right, of course, but he should have released Rangin when T'Var told him to. "Did you learn anything useful in the bar?"

Graham unfolds his arms and adopts a less aggressive posture. He rubs his head. "I know I can be a giant pain-in-the-ass, L-T. But I'm not totally crazy." He shakes his head--sadly if nothing else for everything that happened that day. "We both saw some mean and ugly from Rangin earlier, and from what I gather that may just have been the tip of the iceberg in relation to what happened between the two of them earlier." He pauses and exhales again. "But, ah, yeah, at this point I think he came back--or the odds are he came back to the ship--before the...before it happened, that he's not our assailaint." This time, still lurks as a suspicion in his mind, but he decides discretion is the better part of valor with Collins at the moment.

He sighs and starts to pace. "I don't want to get ahead of Kylah making her statement. She needs to rest, first..." he pauses. "Sheesh. For sure."

"Ahhh...anyway, ah, she was the victim of a robbery. I'm pretty sure the bartender knew she had some money, and some...valuables." He looks at Collins and shrugs. "Apparently that zither thing was worth a lot." He spreads his hands. "I know what you're going to ask--so why did they smash it?" He shakes his head. "Not sure--bunch of local assholes dissatisfied with their tip-off, expecting something more obvious--or more cash." He frowns. "That might explain the viciousness of the assault, too."

He stops pacing. "As near as I can tell she wants to forget about the whole thing. Not uncommon."

He grimaces. "Like I said, I don't want to get ahead of her statement. If I were the locals, I'd add a close eye on the bartender to their net investigating similar crimes where a visitor was transported and robbed."

Graham wonders how Collins will react--at the moment, he's crossed no Rubicons and told no explicit lies, and if he's lucky she'll be content with dressing me down...Or am I content to stop here, without bringing up the hotel on OCIII and Collins' order to stand down...?

"Yes, she definitely needs to rest and heal." Collins is relieved to hear that Graham no longer suspects Rangin. "So, okay, what do you suggest we do, other than filling the local LEOs in on what we've found out, while we wait for Kylah to gather her thoughts and give us her statement? We could let them handle it from here, since it involves their citizens, and not delay whatever it is we were headed to do in the first place before shore leave."

Graham can't help but laugh. "Ah hell, well shit, you're right, L-T...there was something we were actually supposed to be doing..." He's grateful for an "out." We're all wired, tired...

"Ah, look, I promise I'll avoid Rangin tonight. My guts says leave this to the locals." He deadpans: "unless you want me to beam down there and hold that bartender upside-down by his ankles from the roof of the bar until he talks." He raises an eyebrow. "Just kidding--really." He shrugs. "Maybe we--or Kylah--will feel differently in the morning, but..." He shakes his head again. "I feel kind of...dirty...from all this. Maybe we should all just clear our heads and have done with it."

"Yeah, a good night's sleep will help," Collins half-laughs with Graham. "But save that roof/ankle move. We still might need it, you never know." More seriously, she adds "We're going to have to report to Vargas, including the incident between you and Rangin. Surely he's already told his CO."

Graham sighs and nods. "Understood L-T. The fact is I did use force on the..." he pauses, then substitutes as different word rather than "asshole". "...guy. So I'll file a full report. I'll verbally reach out to Vargas first too."

Graham is sanguine about the possibility of a transfer to the wrong end of nowhere--except for his concerns about Kylah. Collins seems like she may really have it together, now, he thinks. If it does come to that, we can have a talk... But for god's sake not now.

"Good. I'm sure he'll ask me about it, too. But okay," Collins holds out her right hand, "We're good," and smiles at Graham.




Collins by anyrose, Graham by g_u. Duplicative text then removed at anyrose's request by Elendil's Heir; light editing.

Rangin's quarters are empty for the moment; his bunkmate is not there.

A male voice comes from the speaker grille in the big chair. Onn hears, "This is Det. Velgee Lunnd of the Major Crimes Unit, Thoth Constabulary. We have a probable but not definite DNA identification of whoever was in that Hathor warehouse with your Ens. Kylah. Hathor's a small copshop and they're letting us run with this. Is Lt. JG Collins still leading the investigation? If not, I'd like to speak to whoever is."

Nia nods to herself. "That's encouraging, Detective, thank you very much. As far as I know, Lt. Collins is still leading, although her second, Ensign Graham, is the one who was working down in Thoth... last I heard, anyway. I'll send you through." She glances back at Thalen to address him. "Please open additional channels to Collins and Graham?"

Assuming she is connected, Nia will tell the security officers: "Lt. Onn to Collins and Graham. I've just received word from a Detective Lunnd down on the planet, from the Thoth Constabulary. Says they have a likely match on the DNA from the warehouse. He wants to talk to Collins, or whoever's leading the investigation. Graham, are you still on the planet? Either way, you can both take part in the discussion as far as I'm concerned--it'll save some back-and-forth--but it's your call, Lt. Collins."

Collins strides over to the wall communications panel. "Collins here, that's great news, Lieutenant. Graham is here with me. Please put Detective Luund through to here."

When the connection is active "Detective, this is Lieutenant JG Collins. I'm glad to hear you've made some progress. Ensign Kylah is going to make a full recovery, although for the present, her memory is a little foggy."

When the contact is established and the others take over, Nia sits back in her chair and taps her tented fingers together, wearing an amused expression despite her mild annoyance. She swivels to Thalen. "You know, Lieutenant," she says playfully, "I wonder if the crew might benefit from a mandatory refresher course on intra-staff communications--in particular, a reminder in keeping our superiors and teammates in the loop so that we, and I'm using the royal 'we' here, might not look foolish when we're unaware of the comings and goings of a landing party. Thoughts?"

Before he responds, she holds up a finger and decides to take her own advice. "Onn to T'Var. Doctor, how's Ensign Kylah doing? My shift'll be ending soon and I'd like to make sure I can hand over an accurate, updated status report."

Graham's barely finished shaking Collins' hand when they hear the hail.

Despite the fact that Kylah seems to wants to forget the whole thing, it would be good to take the perps off the street. Recovering a boatload of cash and jewelry would be awkward: he hopes he can remind her that carrying around a lot of bling is neither against the law nor Starfleet regulations. And what matters is not what she was thinking about doing what what actually happened...

Or I could just try to calm her down by comparing this situation to my own: hell, when I went AWOL I stole a shuttle intending to hunt down and kill some people...

Grumbling as he heads at speed down the corridor, well aware of what duties Chef is planning for him tonight, Ship's Cook Johnson hastily makes his way to Sickbay. He knows who will be there from the scuttlebutt going round, Ens. Kylah severely injured on shore leave to the point of being fixed up by T'Var. Two birds, one stone so to speak. It was just a shame he would not be able to stay for too long.

Arriving he looks around for T'Var and his heart flutters slightly as he spies her. Damnable emotions getting in the way, but it is always good to see her and he approaches respectfully while keeping out of sight of the other doctors.

"Hello Dr. T'Var, how are you? I dropped you a message last night about another chess game. Oh and I thought you might like some more of these..." Johnson comments as he pulls out a small tray of Vulcan pastries.

"I was also going to drop these off for Ens. Kylah if she's ok to have them. I was going to give it to her last night, but something or other happened. It's Bellaque, she might appreciate it, taste of home cooking and all that after what just happened."

Johnson hands a second plate across to T'Var. "Please can you pass them across. I'd stay but I have to prep the Captain's table tonight for guests. Chef'll marmalade me if I miss it."

T'Var gives Onn a status report on Kylah.

She accepts the pastries. "I am sure Ensign Kylah will appreciate your efforts, Mr. Johnson," T'Var says. "And yes, I would enjoy another chess game."

Det. Lunnd tells Collins, "Well, I hope she'll be better soon. We might need her to ID the suspect. The partial DNA results we got suggest that the blood came from Lez Trovon, a Thoth resident who's got an extensive criminal record. We think we know where he is. Did you want to send anyone along when we pick him up?"

Lt. Thalen thinks for a moment. "Perhaps, Lt. Onn, Transporter Room personnel should report to the Bridge whenever anyone comes or goes? It could be a standing order. That way the BCDO would know who's where without making further inquiries."

It is now 1501 hours ship's time.

"Dr T'Var, you are a star. After the Captain's table, I'm free all night just for once. When you're ready, let me know and yeah, let us know how the little Ensign's doing, though she's probably gonna bend my ear over that Bellaque. Seeya round Ma'am."

Johnson heads off ready to take on the world, he just hopes his gift for Kylah is up to scratch.

Kylah turns slightly in her sleep, a slight frown revealing some residual pain from her ribs, but it quickly dissipates.

* * *

The baby is crying. Something hurts. It is not her own pain, but she feels it anyway, somewhere deep inside her heart. A sense that nothing will be right again because something, someone, has gone away forever.

She cannot express words, she is too little, but her tears produce a desired result. He is suddenly near, and soon she is in his arms. His heartbeat beneath her head soothes her somewhat, except in truth, the pain is stronger now. Is it his pain? She lifts a scrawny, tiny hand up to his chin. Stubble hurts her fingers but he kisses them and, using his free hand, takes them gently away. His own hand is massive compared to hers. Mostly all she sees is light brown hair, a white shirt, and his large blue eyes. They are also crying.

He says something she cannot understand, it is all just a deep, husky sound of words of which she only identifies 'mama.' Then he cradles her against him and sings the song, one that appears to be an ancient lullaby.

"Nothing's gonna harm you,
Not while I'm around,
Nothing's gonna harm you, dear one,
Not while I'm around..."

She closes her eyes and listens to his soft voice, which is broken and tight but the song is one she has heard forever, and it relieves her even though his pain is getting more pronounced.

Luckily he puts her back in the crib rather than keeping her in his arms. That helps. As does his gently running a hand along the back of her head, so gently he seems afraid to touch her.

"...No one's gonna hurt you,
No one's gonna dare,
Other's can desert you,
Not to worry; whistle I'll be there,
Demons'll charm you with a smile, for a while,
But in time...
Nothing's gonna harm you,
Not while..."

The voice fades away.

* * *

Her right hand curled beneath her pillow, Kylah sighs and briefly opens her eyes. Her face is wet with tears, just as in the dream--one she has had several times before in her life.

She has never understood the dream or known where it comes from. It cannot be a memory; her father certainly never sang to her, and the songs Aldaan taught her were playful, not lullabies. Besides, the lyrics and tune are not typical of any Elasian songs.

The dream always ends unfinished, as it did just now. But it never lasted so long. Instead of the song fading on the sinister 'demons' or the 'others can desert you' lines, the man's words went further. They reassured her, they did not merely threaten.

Someone, even this mythical stranger who has always seemed in pain himself, promised to be there for her. To protect her against... something. Some kind of nameless harm and abandonment.

In the quiet sickbay room, Kylah is far too hazy to think about it. But she pulls herself more deeply into her pillow. Whenever she has awoken from this dream before, it has always been with an unspoken ache, a sense of longing. While those feelings are still present, now there is more; there is comfort: Comfort from the idea that someone wanted her safe. Someone promised to keep her safe.

Before sleep overtakes her again, she sees a flash of Graham's face. Of course, she knows that he is not the man from her dream, if such a person ever truly existed outside of fantasy. Still, she cannot help remember Graham's own promise. Will he keep it? Perhaps he will. She believes he will. At least... she believes he will try. It is more than she has any right to expect.

Kylah sighs and slowly drifts back to sleep. As always, her last conscious thought is the hope that this time, she will get to finish the bittersweet yet lovely dream.

But, also as always, she does not.

Rangin enters the cabin as quiet and as empty as he feels given the last few hours. The lights flicker on and illuminate the room, and he stands for a moment, almost gathering his bearings, deciding on what course of action to take. Freshen up, that was it, a brief shower, get changed and then just head to the science labs to start working on the sensor. Simple tasks, not requiring much thought. Things he can't get wrong, things others can't hurt him with, things he can't hurt others with. It didn't matter, what was done was done and there is no point in trying to hide from it, just accept the responsibility for his words and actions and move on.

It's then that he looks across at the small table and sees the pile of trinkets he had bought on Anubis for his sister. The gifts he had bought. The little special somethings for those he cared about.

"Here you go Mr Graham, I am of the opinion that I do not deserve this gift from Mr. Kylah any more, perhaps you should have it instead."

Rangin slumps into a chair, shaking as the scene starts to play out over in his mind once again, all the while his gaze is fixed firmly on a little bracelet in a gift box. Kylah had bought him a gift and he had thrown it back in her face, not just that but rejected her almost outright. No he had rejected her outright.

Rangin felt alone. He would have asked Kylah for help but his own actions had driven a wedge, no a chasm, between them.

The others would all be round comforting Kylah, she would not be alone, the poor wounded princess in her bed, the accusatory glances in his direction. Accusations of what he didn't know, apparently not being there when he should be. Oh there were other on the ship he could talk to, others he probably knew better than Kylah, Pourtash for one, some of the science crew for more.

But...for the last few days he had become close to Kylah, was getting to know...well no he hadn't. He still didn't know about her and because of it he had pushed her away, scared in case history repeated itself. Well, history had just repeated itself only this time he was going to be around to see the pieces fall down.

He misses her.

Like her before, Rangin misses Kylah. A little piece of his heart cut out and trampled on the floor, only this time he had done it to himself. Despite it all, Kylah is, well was, someone Rangin could talk to, someone who seemed to know what he was thinking, only instead of running away, this time he was just walking away.

Rangin continues to sit and look at the gifts, lost in his own nightmares, as he wonders what he can do to change it this time around.

The brief, almost terse report from T'Var tells Nia almost nothing new. Except she has the strangest sense that T'Var could have told her more, but chose not to. Maybe some brief medical screw-up that got fixed so she doesn't think it's important enough to mention? Who knows with doctors? Nia thinks. Inscrutable bunch. And that goes triple for Vulcans.

She decides she'll get more out of a report from Collins or Graham, assuming either of them decides to go against apparent Security protocol and actually talks to someone outside the thin red wall.

Thin red wall? More like a big fat red fortress.

Thalen's suggestion puts a smile back on her face. "That's the sorta thing exactly. Excellent idea. You mind if I steal it--giving you full credit, of course--and pass it along in a note to the Captain?" Nia's gaze falls back on the tablet from Russell. "It'll be part of a theme, as it were. Of proposals on how to facilitate intercourse among the crew."

If the others hear her low chuckle or see the wicked gleam in her eyes, Nia does not care.

Collins replies to Det. Lunnd, "Yes, if we are still in orbit, we will definitely send someone. I know the ship is expected elsewhere, but I am not sure of the timeline. As for Ensign Kylah being able to ID anyone, she said they all wore masks; maybe a voice line up instead? Also, I still have to bring my CO up to speed. Ultimately, it will be his call what we here do next."

While Collins speaks to the detective, Graham gestures for just a second to speak with her offline. "I'm going to take a second to give Vargas a heads up about the...incident...before I do anything else."

He moves away and hails Vargas.

assuming Vargas answers

"Cmdr. Vargas, this is Ens. Graham. A short time ago in the course of the investigation into the assault on Ens. Kylah I used force against a member of the crew--specifically, a control-and-compliance hold on Mr. Rangin, in Sickbay. I will of course file a report, but as this was a member of the crew I wanted to inform you personally and immediately."

"Lt. Collins is aware and partially witness to the incident. Dr. T'Var witnessed its entirety. There was no complaint of injury by Mr. Rangin."

"Based on the totality of events at the time I came to the conclusion Mr. Rangin was a suspect and separating him from Mr. Kylah was urgent and necessary for her safety. To be clear, new information has come to light that indicates he is not a suspect...in this case."

He pauses and almost stops, then adds "If you or the Captain initiate any formal inquiry, I will waive my right to counsel and appeal. I'll speak for myself, sir, and accept your findings."

Collins, still talking with the detective, gives Graham a thumbs up.

The duty nurse looks in on Kylah, then quietly withdraws.

Thalen smiles. "Take full credit, if you like, Mr. Onn. It's not original to me."

Bennett turns around and rolls her eyes at the Sidonian officer's pun, then cannot help but chuckle.

Vargas seems taken aback but says, "All right, thank you, Mr. Graham. I will take that under advisement, and will contact Mr. Rangin in the meantime."

The Thoth detective says, "We'll be moving in the next ten minutes. We don't want him slipping away. Let me know ASAP if you want to go. Lunnd out."

Rangin's desk computer terminal beeps, and the First Officer appears on the small viewscreen. "Vargas to Rangin."

The beep catches Rangin unawares as Cmdr. Vargas' voice echoes through the room and Rangin's mind whirls with what it could be about.

Was Vargas giving him an update on the hunt for Kylah's attackers, maybe the findings he had handed across had come in useful after all. Or is he being reported for the scene in Sickbay, where despite everything he had tried to do to help, he is the one on the outside. After all Security sticks together. A small part of him wishes that none of it is happening and Vargas is just asking if he wants a game of 4-D chess, instead of the traditional version, but that would be a very remote possibility.

Sitting up straight and calming himself, Rangin steels himself to talk to the stern Commander and flicks the switch to acknowledge receipt. "Yes sir, Ensign Rangin here."

"Yes, I ..." will be right down, without permission, without checking in with Vargas, "... will get back to you shortly. If you don't hear back from me in five," Collins tells the detective, "Go ahead without us. Collins out." She terminates that call and quickly calls Cmdr. Vargas "Collins here, sir. Detective Lunnd of the Thoth police are closing in on their prime suspect and want to know if we'll be sending anyone to assist?"

Vargas is talking to Collins and Rangin a few minutes apart, naturally.

He says to the Security officer, "An assault on a member of this crew requires our continued involvement, even if local law enforcement is taking the lead. Assemble a landing party and beam down to assist. The Captain has postponed our departure until we have a better understanding of what happened down there, or until Thoth police say we're no longer needed."

"Yes, sir." Collins says to Vargas with a happy glint in her voice. This is the kind of security work she loves. Catching the bad guys. "Collins out." She taps the comm again "This is Lieutenant Collins. Please put me through to Detective Lunnd on Anubis." While she waits for the call to go through, she says into the comm "This is Collins. Lieutenant Jones and Ensign Rawlings, meet us in Transporter Room One, armed and ready."

When Det, Lunnd is put through, she'll tell him that four security officers will beam down immediately, then says "Let's hit it" to Graham and heads to Transporter Room 1 at a fast clip.

"I'll be 30 seconds behind you," Graham says, realizing he needs to drop off the bag he took from Sickbay in his quarters. He moves as quickly as he can without running into anyone or walls to do so and then join Collins in Transporter Room One.

Lunnd replies, "Acknowledged, Lt. Collins. We'll meet you shortly at these coordinates." He provides them and breaks the connection.

Jones and Rawlings meet Collins in Transporter Room 1. Graham arrives soon after. "What's up, Lieutenant?" Jones asks as they each draw a phaser-2 from the arms locker. Rawlings gets a Security tricorder, as well.

Collins gives the coordinates Lunnd gave her to the transporter chief. As she steps onto the pad, she tells the other security personnel "The local LEOs have IDed one of the suspects and are about to go in for the grab. Vargas said we should be there since it was one of ours that was attacked."

As soon as all four are on the pad, she tells the chief to energize.

T'Var continues to monitor Kylah's stats while watching her fitful sleep. Kylah's physical injuries should heal completely with time. Her emotional wounds are another matter. Hopefully, those wounds can be addressed as well.

The doctor looks forward to her next chess match with Johnson. Her encounters with him over the chessboard help to relax and recharge her.

Even in her sleep, Kylah feels a calm descending upon her, as well as what feels like a tightening band around her head. This change in her emotions gradually rouses her. She opens her eyes, squinting against the dull pain, and stares at the room, at first a little disoriented but gradually remembering where she is, and why she is here. Also, she becomes aware that she is not alone. At last her gaze catches sight of T'Var, who is currently looking at a monitor.

Kylah moistens her dry lips. "Doctor," she whispers, then clears her throat before continuing. "May I have some water?"

Collins and the other Yorktown Security officers beam down. They find themselves in a large, somewhat dusty room. Three airbuses with THOTH SCHOOLS on the sides are parked nearby. There are four large doors, now closed, apparently leading outside. Det. Lunnd and four other police officers, all in body armor, are there. Lunnd shakes Collins's hand and says, "We're using this School Board garage as a staging area. Lez Trovon was spotted by our citywide facial-recognition system half an hour ago, going into an apartment building nearby. He hasn't come out since. He has some violent crime on his record, so we're not going to take any chances when we go in and grab him. Questions?"

Collins sees the body armor, assesses the risk, and say. "Nope, we'll take up positions outside covering the exits." She turns to her crewmates, "Graham and Jones, you take the rear exit, Rawlings and I will cover the front. Phasers on heavy stun, guys." She turns back to Lunnd. "Good?"

Graham nods appreciatively at the body armor.

Good times, he thinks (without only a little irony) of past experiences being fully geared-up calls to mind.

"Of course," T'Var says. The doctor gets Kylah a cool glass of water. "How are you feeling? Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?"

Pushing herself up slightly, Kylah thanks the doctor for the water. Physically, she does feel better; the bruising and healed bones are more like the memories of pain, except when she exerts herself. However... something is definitely wrong with her empathic abilities. Kylah's head did not bother her when she was alone, but now with T'Var by her bed, she again feels vaguely dizzy.

As controlled as the Vulcan's emotions are, Kylah can still sense something--they are radiating out to her in pulse-like waves. Kylah's empathic powers are not usually this acute--certainly not without physical contact--and they usually do not fade in and out like this. It is giving her vertigo.

"My physical wounds are better. But--" Kylah looks around to make sure there is no one nearby, and then continues quietly. "There is something wrong. I cannot explain it very well. My--my empathic abilities seem to have been affected. I cannot focus. They are giving me random impressions from everyone, even when I am not trying at all. Even you. You are looking forward to something...to being with someone."

Kylah bites her lips. "I do not mean to be invasive. I cannot help it. I should not be able to know this, especially not with you. And what is worse... I think I have told you that my impressions are stronger with physical contact? Since I woke up here, every time someone touches me, it burns. The flood of emotions feels like acid through my veins, from wherever they touch me to here." She lifts her good hand to her eyes and right temple. "Behind my eyes. I am in dread of anyone touching me. I already dreaded it after OCIII, I did not think it would get worse." Regretting having said as much, she closes her eyes. "I just... I know Vulcans are experienced with such abilities, at least with telepathy. Have you ever heard of a physical injury--a head injury--causing problems with such things?"

She looks at T'Var again, trying to find some hope. "Could it just be temporary? I was hit in the back of my head, perhaps it somehow caused my brain to--to bruise, in some way?" Kylah sighs and stares down at the glass of water. "You are the only one I can ask, doctor. Dr. Villa mentioned my brain scan was 'interesting' and I only hope it is because she has not seen someone who is half-Elasian before. Is there anything you can do to find out, without... without telling anyone else?"

"Head injuries are complicated in nature, Kylah," T'Var begins. "These injuries can have a lasting impact on someone -- mentally and physically."

The doctor pauses a moment. She checks the monitors once again. "Whether what you are experiencing is temporary or perhaps permanent may not be known for some time."

T'Var gives Kylah a reassuring smile. "When you are released from Sickbay, we could try certain meditations. These may help us better understand what is happening with your telepathy."

Kylah nods, although there is little to be reassured by the possibility of this discomfort lasting forever. "Thank you, I would appreciate the meditation. I know we were going to do that before, but the last mission... interrupted us." She goes on hurriedly. "How soon may I leave Sickbay? I feel stronger, except for the dizziness I mentioned." Her stomach twists with an impatient reminder of its emptiness. "Might I also please have something to eat? I have had nothing since breakfast," she says apologetically.

"I will check with Dr. Villa as to when you may leave Sickbay," T'Var replies. "I have something here for you from Mr. Johnson. You are welcome to partake of it."

A few seconds of startled silence is Kylah's immediate response. "From Mr. Johnson," she repeats, looking blankly at T'Var. She feels a little swell of affection and warmth for the ship's cook, and it is so sudden that she cannot be certain whether it is her own or T'Var's. But she dismisses the latter as unlikely; why would the Vulcan have such a reaction?

When T'Var hands over the dish, Kylah balances it carefully on her lap before taking a closer examination. Tissue-thin layers of pastry cover small squares of solid white confection, all of which is glazed by a caramel-colored, sticky coating. Kylah inhales and the sweetness is instantly familiar. She is immediately taken back to her childhood, when her nurse would only be able to coax her out from her hiding places with this special treat.

"Bellaque," Kylah whispers in wonder. "It is... It is an Elasian dessert. How did he..." Her eyes widen and now there is no doubt that the flush painting her cheeks in warmth is definitely her own. Of course. During their first meeting, she told Johnson it was her favorite dish. Before he became even more objectionable--admittedly, a response to her own stiff, unfriendly demeanor.

"Oh... this was very kind of him," she says, touched. "To create something from my home... It could not have been easy, there would be no way for him to know what it is supposed to taste like." Daintily she pulls a brick of the confection apart, although there is no way to avoid getting one's fingers coated with the syrup--relishing the remaining sweetness by licking it from your hands is part of enjoying the dish.

From the first bite of the familiar crunchy, chewy, melting-on-her-tongue candy, Kylah closes her eyes, transformed to a child again. The dish is the very definition of comfort food. "It is ambrosia," she says after swallowing, and making no apologies for sucking the glaze that sticks to her fingers. "Dr. T'Var, please have some, if you wish. I could eat it all by myself, but I must not. Besides, I would like to save some for Vel--"

The smile disappears from her face. No. Of course not. He would not join her in this taste of Elasian fare, although she would dearly love to share it with him. Even if Velir were somehow inclined to partake, he would likely refuse once he knew Mr. Johnson provided it, considering his reaction to seeing the cook outside her room last night.

Saddened, Kylah takes another piece of the candy and looks down at it. "I would like to thank Mr. Johnson," she murmurs absently. "If it is not too much trouble, could you send him a message for me? I do not have a communicator anymore. It was broken." "I do fear that just like her zither, she's broken." Velir's metal-hard voice echoes in her ears and she tries not to cry. "Please--please tell him it is perfect. He is thoughtful and has made me very happy. Will you tell him that, please?"

Vargas says, "I was just informed by Ens. Graham that there was an incident between you two in Sickbay. Please come to my office immediately to discuss it."

"Immediately, yes, sir. On my way," Rangin replies as calmly as he can. Flicking the terminal off, he stands up and closes his eyes for a moment to gain some inner strength. Opening them, he feels more in control and purposefully heads through the door of his quarters. The sooner the business about Graham is cleared up, the sooner he can work on the prototype sensor module. He heads directly to Cmdr. Vargas's office, not wasting any time. Once outside, he presses the door button to let Vargas know he is there.

"Come in," the First Officer says. Rangin does, and Vargas says, "Please sit down." He plays back Graham's report for Rangin and then says carefully, as if following a script, "This meeting is being recorded. Ens. Graham has reported his use of force against you, as he required to do under Starfleet regs. I must advise you that it may form the basis for disciplinary action. Do you have any response you would now like to make? You don't have to, and it would not be held against you in any subsequent proceedings."

Rangin listens to Graham's brief report in shock and horror. Graham had assaulted him because he believed Rangin was a threat to Kylah? His jaw drops slightly while his mouth tries to form words, but nothing escapes. His eyes widen as he hears Graham's justifications and he slowly turns his head from the speaker to look directly at Cmdr. Vargas.

"I don't know what to say," Rangin quietly responds. "Mr. Graham had made it clear that he considered me... negligent, even responsible, for not being with Kylah when she was attacked. I did not know I was considered an actual suspect in the attack. I was also not aware that I was under investigation for more than one crime." Rangin's face darkens at the comment about "...in this case." "Perhaps I should be speaking to Lt. Cmdr. Roble instead? Sir."

"Of course, if you wish. He is your department chief, after all, and that would not be inappropriate." The First Officer pauses. "I must say, Mr. Graham's suspicions are his own, and not mine. A diligent Security officer will gather information through any lawful means, but that's not to say that you are 'under investigation,' as such. Indeed, until Mr. Graham's call to me, I had no reason to suspect you of any wrongdoing, Ensign, and I'm still not convinced, as yet, that there's any reason why I should."

Rangin pauses, wondering what he should say next. If Cmdr. Vargas digs deeply then he will ultimately find out about Kylah, her lies and whatever reason she decided to tell them. On the other hand, Graham had been nothing but trouble the entire day and had been actively stopping him trying to gather evidence.

No, no, he can't. Rangin refuses to sink to that level; he's not going to be as bad as Graham just because he could be. He holds so little left dear to him, after the last few minutes, that it would be easy to just give in to his base impulses and try to make Graham look as bad as possible. He chooses his words carefully: "All I know, as I told Mr. Graham, is that when I returned from shore leave, leaving Ens. Kylah behind, she was unharmed. I don't know what happened after that, but I know that I found her, found the site where she was assaulted and successfully obtained a DNA scan of one of her attackers. My only concern at this time is the hope that information can help find and bring them all to justice. I cannot say what Mr. Graham is thinking or why, as my interactions with him today have been all too brief. I don't know where he got the idea, but I'm sure he had good reason for why he acted the way he did."

Rangin almost bites his tongue, thinking, Graham's reason is likely to just be his hatred of me, but he will not stoop to Graham's level. He will stick to just what he knows.

Vargas nods. "Understood, and thank you. If there's nothing else...?"

"No sir, nothing else."

"Very well. Thank you for your time. Dismissed."

Rangin rises from the chair, accepts the dismissal and leaves for the Science labs. No longer to just work on the sensor, but to inform Lt. Cmdr. Roble of just what has occurred.

Det. Lunnd nods. "That would be fine, thanks. No other questions? All right, keep an open channel, everyone. Phasers on stun. Let's go."

He leads his officers and the Starfleet contingent through a side door of the garage and out into the street. There is little traffic and few people; those you see get out of the way hurriedly at the sight of the armed and armored officers out in front. A cold drizzle is falling. The apartment building is just a block away. It is about 30 stories tall, blocky, unattractive, and could do with a good cleaning. Lunnd points out the two doors for the Yorktown officers to cover, and leads his officers inside.

Collins nods to the other Yorktown Security officers, and runs to a spot with good cover and a good view of the front of the apartment building. Her adrenaline is pumping full force as she draws her weapon, sets it to heavy stun, and readies herself to fire at a nanosecond's notice.

Graham takes position and checks the charge and setting on his phaser.

After the events earlier in the day, backup duty for a tactical team is almost an odd let-down, a time for reflection...

An image of Bennett reading in the Arboretum comes to mind. One into which Graham lumbers, in full body armor... He shakes his head slightly. That's pretty much an accurate picture of me intruding into her world, he thinks. It's almost as absurd as...

He sees a heavily gloved, mechanically-assisted armored hand holding a tiny snow globe and giving it a dainty shake. Ah, the freaking snow globe... He sighs. Well, Nia seemed like she has a good sense of humor, at least.

He forces his attention back to the mission at hand. Eyes sharp, Booker, a real bad actor inside. he thinks. Wouldn't that be priceless: "Merry Christmas, Mr. Rangin, Graham got wasted by some local goon."

Rangin heads slowly across the Science labs, his mind still ticking over from his meeting with Cmdr. Vargas, wondering what charges will be laid against him. It wasn't as if Security didn't look after their own. No, they would make sure that another scapegoat is around. Lt. now Ens. Delaney was a good example of their practice.

He had been the last to see Kylah, that would be enough for some of them. Disciplinary action for following orders, where as Graham spent his life ignoring them if he felt like it, with no comeback. A real travesty of justice.

As he makes it, Rangin looks around for Lt. Cmdr. Roble hoping he is around somewhere.

T'Var does take a small taste of the pastry. "Yes, this is quite delicious," she says. The Vulcan licks her fingers as Kylah did. "Quite delicious."

The doctor considers having another piece, but decides against it. "Why don't you thank Mr. Johnson yourself, Kylah. I am certain he would appreciate speaking with you directly."

Collins, Graham and the others take up their positions as a drizzling rain falls from the dark sky. Collins realizes that she doesn't know what their suspect looks like.

Rangin finds Roble in the Yorktown's Botany lab, talking to Lt. JG Faith Ngaka, a diminutive botanist - from Botswana, as he recalls. The Science Officer smiles. "Ah, Mr. Rangin. You've been briefed on the sensor module prototype, I understand. Have you reviewed the documentation yet?"

To Kylah's dismay, when T'Var makes her suggestion of contacting Mr. Johnson, the first thing she thinks is: Velir would not like it. After the way he reacted to seeing Johnson yesterday...

But she catches herself. Velir's reactions have become more and more unpredictable. Even unreasonable. Most important, considering how emphatically clear he has made it that Kylah is not worthy of him--not worthy of anyone--Velir Rangin's approval is no longer something Kylah can attain.

Besides, she thinks, her jaw tightening with attempted bravado. I am an Elasian woman. No one other than my Guardian or the Council may tell me whom I may see.

"You are right, that is only proper. I suppose he will be busy until after dinner..." The thought of food inspires Kylah to take another piece of the bellaque. "Thank you, Dr. T'Var. I... I fear I have great need of your help, Dr. T'Var. Since joining the ship I have experienced a great deal. I am afraid to have it weighing on me for much longer."

"I am more than willing to help you in any way that I can, Kylah," T'Var says. "As a physician and as a friend."

Collins takes out her communicator "Collins to Lunnd. What does the suspect look like?" She feels foolish asking something she should have asked at the start of the op, but better to seem like a ditz than to stun the wrong person.

Dr. T'Var leaves Kylah, and some time passes.

The young officer awakens as the door to her Sickbay recovery room whisks open. Capt. Singh enters and sits down next to her. She says, "Hello, Mr. Kylah. I'm sorry it's taken me this long to come by, but there were some other matters to which I had to attend. How are you feeling?"

Startled by the Captain's presence, Kylah puts all her effort into sitting up, not quite making it the first time. "Captain, excuse me," she says, finally succeeding to sit in a more dignified position by pulling at her pillow behind her. "I was not expecting you, I know you are very busy. In truth I do not even know how long it has been, I have been sleeping so much." She hesitates before she answers Singh's question, but decides on the simplest answer. "I am feeling better, thank you very much. It is thoughtful of you to visit me."

"Not at all. I'm sorry that a brief shore leave went so badly awry for you. I know that Cmdr. Vargas and others will want to talk to you in more detail about what happened, when you're feeling up to it."

"Of course, I understand." Kylah feels a squeeze of dread in her heart. "I... do not remember much that will be useful. They wore masks, I cannot answer anything about who they were. Besides, it was nothing more than a standard street crime. I did not lose much...." The words are strangled in her throat as she thinks of her mother's jewelry, and of course the zither. "And I will recover. It was my fault for being in a bad neighborhood, really." She clasps her hands tightly together beneath the blanket. "Please, Captain, if there is somewhere else the ship must go... do not delay it on my account."

Singh frowns. "Don't blame yourself, please - there's no call for that. We do have a new mission, but it's not especially time-sensitive. It's more important for now that we help local police and bring those responsible to justice, if possible. Are you comfortable here? May I do anything for you?"

'Bring those responsible to justice.' Kylah's guilt gnaws at her. She herself is responsible. "No, there is nothing, I am comfortable enough, thank you," she says weakly. "But... I hope I will be allowed back on duty soon, since I am so much better. Or at least to return to my quarters. And our Security officers... they must not be put in danger because of me. I am sure the local police will find them. I do not want to cause such trouble or waste resources when it is partially my fault."

"You've caused no trouble, and we're wasting no resources. Criminals should know they cannot prey on Starfleet personnel with impunity. Until I'm satisfied there's nothing more we can do to help the Thoth authorities, here we stay."

"Yes, of course," Kylah says meekly. "Thank you." She does not dare bring up the subject again, afraid that the older woman will begin to question why Kylah is so adamantly against solving the crime. "If... if there is anything I can do to help, I will," she offers, hoping she sounds sincere. Her eyes dart to the plate by her bedside and, on impulse, she lifts it toward Singh. "Captain, would you--would you like to try this? It is an Elasian confection called bellaque. Mr. Johnson knew I liked it and was extraordinarily generous enough to research the recipe. It is very rich and sweet. From my time back at the Academy, I noticed some similarity to Terran desserts such as Turkish Delight or Halva." But bellaque is far better, she thinks but does not add.

"Mmm, thank you," the Captain says. "I haven't had it before." She takes a piece and pops it into her mouth, chews a bit and smiles. "Very good. Thank you."

They talk for a few minutes about Elasian sweets and other inconsequential things, until finally, after her third piece of bellaque, the Captain says, "Well, I didn't come here to eat all your candy. Do you need anything else, Ensign?"

"You have done so much, ma'am. I do not..." Kylah hesitates, then glances down at her bag on the floor. "If it is not too much trouble, ma'am, there is one thing. I am afraid the--the thieves destroyed my communicator. I suppose so I could not call for help, or be beamed out... I do not understand why, I believe I was already unconscious when they did it. Unless they planned to return..." The thought makes her shudder and she pulls the blanket closer. "At any rate, might it be possible to have another one sent to me, please? If I am to stay here overnight, I would feel less... isolated... if I had a way to contact someone." She blinks away the glassiness from her eyes. She would have said a friend, but she has none left on the ship. Just colleagues.

"Of course, I'll have one brought to you. You can also use the comm function on the Library Computer reader here." Kylah had not noticed the small display unit on its boom before. The Captain rises and pulls it within arm's reach.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Certainly," the older woman says, and pats her hand. "Take care, Ensign, and get well. We need you back on duty as soon as the doctors say you can, and as soon as you feel up to it."

After murmuring her gratitude, Kylah watches the door whoosh shut behind the Captain, and then turns her focus back down to the blanket. The very brief burning sensation after Singh touched her as well as the tightness behind her eyes have decreased now that Kylah is alone again, no longer affected by the Captain's mild but still present emotions. She begins twisting and untwisting the thin cover's material in her hands, unable to stop ruminating on her lies and the danger in which she has placed others, all because of her own cowardice. Her eyes close and she prays this will all be over soon.

A typical Sickbay bedside reader: http://img2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb2...space_seed.jpg

Det. Lunnd says, "Sorry. Should've offered you that before." He transfers to each of the four Starfleet Security officers' communicators a criminal record file for Lez Trovon, including identifiers and vital stats. In appearance he is a white Human male, brown-eyed, short and well-built, clean-shaven with greasy black hair. He has an old scar on his left forearm. "Stand by. We're about to make entry into his apartment."

"Hardly started sir, there's plenty of it to go through and it should keep me occupied for quite a while." Rangin's voice remains calm and even despite his thoughts churning and wondering what Cmdr. Vargas is going to charge him with.

"Sir, when you have a moment, would it be possible to have a word in private?" Rangin knows he is going to have to tell Lt. Cmdr. Roble about the incident in SickBay, especially as Ens. Graham has already started mobilising Security on his behalf.

"Got it. Thank you. Collins out." Jeremi puts away her communicator and resumes her alert stance.

Roble raises an eyebrow. "Of course." He says to Ngaka, "Let me see your preliminary report on this by 1000 tomorrow, please."

"Yes, sir," she says, turning back to her worktable.

The Science Officer leads Rangin to an empty conference room and sits down. "What's on your mind, Ensign?"

Collins and Rawlings see three women come out of the apartment building's front entrance. The civilians are a little startled to see the two Starfleet officers there in the rain, phasers in hand, and quickly walk off into the night.

After several long moments of thought and gathering her courage, Kylah uses the hospital's library reader, pulling its swing arm even closer to her than the captain did. She stares at the screen before tapping it to bring it to life.

"Ensign Kylah sending a message to Ship's Cook Johnson," she says haltingly. She does not wish to hail him to speak to him live; given the time of day, she assumes he must be on duty. "Mr. Johnson, I... I just wanted to thank you, so very much, for the bellaque you sent me. It was delicious and a complete surprise. I wish I could thank you in person, face to face, but I know you must be busy and I am currently in sickbay due to--oh. Of course, you know that," she murmurs, flushing at expressing such a needless reminder. She quickly finishes the message with more awkward gratitude, then signs off.

She stares at the blank screen some more, wishing she had the courage to send another message to a very different recipient. But for the life of her she cannot fathom what she can say. At last Kylah angrily pushes the monitor's swing arm away from her and, grabbing the plate on the table beside her, uses the sweet food to provide the ephemeral comfort she cannot find elsewhere.

Looking down at the floor, and shuffling his feet slightly, Rangin takes a deep breath before raising his head to look at the Chief Scientist.

"In brief sir, there was an altercation between myself and Ens. Graham in Sickbay. I was visiting Ens. Kylah to find out how she was, when he grabbed me from behind in a chokehold. He was promptly ordered by both Dr. T'Var and Lt. JG. Collins to release me. Apparently he considered me a threat to Ens. Kylah, and a possible cause of her injuries at that time, though I don't know the reasons why. Ens. Graham informed Cmdr. Vargas of what occurred and I have spoken to him separately over this matter."

Rangin worries begin to show on his face, "Sir, I thought it best to talk to you as it appears there may be cause for charges over this."

Roble is plainly surprised. "Charges against him, or you? Thank you for telling me, Ensign. I'll talk to Mr. Vargas about this."

Graham and Jones see two men run out the door. The doorway is poorly lit and they can't tell, in the dark and the rain, if either is the suspect.

"I don't know sir," Rangin confides, "but from Mr Graham's report, he seems to think that he has some other kind of case against me at the same time. I know that coming from Coridan means that some people automatically distrust anything I say or do, but I am at a loss as to what he could be referring to. Thank you for listening sir, I'll get back to work on the new sensor prototype."

Rangin waits to be dismissed and then heads back to his area to look over all the details on the sensor and how it effects other bio-sensors.

"Starfleet Security!" Graham yells as loudly and commandingly at the two men as he was trained to do. "Stop and show us your hands!"

Roble nods. "All right, thank you. Keep your chin up. We'll get through this. Carry on, Mr. Rangin."

Rangin accesses the Starfleet research reports on the sensor prototype. They are voluminous; he has a lot of reading ahead of him.

The captain of the Scamp and the communications officer of the Wistful Penelope report back to Lt. Onn within minutes of each other. No one on the Scamp acknowledges having seen Kylah below; two engineers from the Wistful Penelope think they may have seen her in civvies in a rec center in the city of Osiris, more than 200 km east of Thoth, during the time in question.

The two men hesitate only for a moment at Graham's order before making a run for it in different directions.

Graham points toward the one nearest Jones and then begins moving to follow the other one, at the same time pulling out his communicator with his free hand. "Det. Lunnd, status?" he asks quickly on a channel open to the group.

Lunnd doesn't answer immediately.

Graham finds it difficult to run fast and also use his communicator. Both men are running very fast, although Jones begins to catch up to his.

Rangin gets himself a large coffee and settles in for several hours skim reading to get up to speed before he spends tomorrow with Ens. Zweller going over the finer points of the sensor array.

Where's St. Croix when I need her? Graham thinks, remembering how quickly she moved on OCIII. Also, freckles...

At least we're not swimming...

Graham says quickly into his communicator "Graham and Jones in pursuit" and then focuses on speed rather than the communicator.

Rangin gets started. It looks like the Starfleet researchers on Gagarin VII were very thorough.

Graham begins gaining on the man he's chasing. Jones's runs off into the night, with Jones close behind. Graham soon loses sight of them.

Collins and Rawlings see a man emerge from the rainy night, approaching the apartment building's front door.

If he matches the perpetrator's description:

"Halt! Federation Security!" Collins shouts aiming her phaser at the stranger.



If the stranger does not match the description:

"Just a minute," Collins calls to the stranger, running towards him, "You shouldn't go in just now. Come back over here." She will try to grab his arm and pull him out of the line of fire.

T'Var checks in with Dr. Villa.

"When do you think Kylah will be able to leave Sickbay?" she asks.

Through the dark and the rain Collins sees the man is bearded, unlike the picture she has of Lez Trovon, but is roughly his height, build and hair color. He stops when she calls to him.

Dr. Villa says, "She's making a good recovery. There's no reason we couldn't discharge her tomorrow, if you agree."

"I am certain this will be welcome news to Ensign Kylah," T'Var says. "However, I believe we should order limited duty for a brief period of time. I do not want her to have a relapse."

"I agree," Dr. Villa replies. "And I'm going to keep a biomonitor on her for at least a few days."

Collins starts moving towards the bearded man. "Come away from there, please." As she moves, she still keeps one eye on the front door of the building, and she is ready to shoot her phaser if need be.

"What's going on?" the man asks. He sounds suspicious. "What do you want?"

"There's an ongoing investigation," Collins decides it's probably a good idea not to divulge too much information, "It's best we stay clear." She studies the man's body language and is fully prepared to stun him if he tries to run.

Coffee. Check.
Mounds of paperwork. Check
Long night ahead. Double check.

Rangin makes sure he has everything before turning some music on, picking the first of the journals and shutting out the world. The last thing he does is set an alarm for midnight, just in case he does overread.

"I need to go in there," the man says, unimpressed. "I won't get in the way of any investigation." He resumes walking towards the door. Collins still can't be sure, by appearance, if it's Trovon.

As he plows through the voluminous reports, Rangin sees that the testing of Dr. Brold's prototype on Gagarin VII revealed a recurring and inexplicable spillover effect from its radio astronomy scanning functions on the biosensors of nearby sensor modules. There are pages upon pages of numbers as well as text. The lab simulations were not only for typical Constitution-class starships like the Yorktown, but other, smaller Starfleet vessels as well, including science and research ships. He learns that the interference generated by the prototype ranged from mild static and fuzzing to near-complete blanking of biosensor functions, at ranges from 100 km to six AUs. There was always at least some impact, but when the prototype was turned off, the interference ceased. Rangin knows his way around a starship biosensor quite well, and finds it puzzling.

Collins runs to intercept the stranger. "May I have your name please?"

Nia, tapping her chair's arms, thinks impatiently that it's been ages since she's had any kind of situation report from the planet, much less any info on whether the security team has reacted to whatever that Lunnd guy had to say. Of course as far as she's concerned, all the officers are still on the ship. She swivels to Thalen and asks him to open a channel to Lunnd to ask him if the Yorktown can assist him in any way. Then she flips the switch on her own chair-based communicator.

"Lt. Onn to Collins and Graham. Situation please? Did Lunnd tell you anything, does he need any bodies down on the planet?"

The stranger says "Bob Bobbins" and tries to step past Collins.

Det. Lunnd does not respond to Thalen's hail.

Collins's and Graham's communicators both beep.

Nia feels a tightening of the knot in her stomach. She's not a huge believer of instinct--she doesn't believe much you can't see, hear, smell, feel or taste--but she's not stupid. Either Lunnd's busy or... Yeah. Not gonna work on the assumption that everything's copacetic.

"Thalen," she says, turning back to the Communications officer. "Get in touch with the Thoth Major Crimes Unit and let them know their man's gone silent on us. Lunnd may be down and in need of backup."

Still waiting for her own fellow officers to return her hail, she flips the switch again. "Onn to Vargas. Commander, can I get in the loop on what role we're currently playing in the Kylah investigation? The lead officer down on Thoth--who was about to advance on a suspect--has gone dark on us after I asked for an update, and I'm getting bad vibes. I've sent word to the Thoth Constabulary to let them know their guy might need backup, but for all I know you've got twenty officers with him. Do we have any boots on the ground?"

"Rawlings! Get over here!" Collins calls to her crewmate. She still stands in "Bob"'s way. When Rawlings is close enough, she tells him to call the ship with a sit-rep. "Tell them I am occupied at the moment."

"Mr. Bobbins," he could've picked a better fake name. "You are not to enter at this time. Tell me sir, where were you this afternoon, up until a half an hour ago?"

Graham's either slightly alarmed or slightly annoyed Lunnd has not responded--on the one hand, somebody could have forgotten to switch his communicator on. On the other, they could all be dead...

But he's definitely annoyed at having to chase after some dude who for all he knows is some random shit head afraid he's just gotten busted for shoplifting last week and not their target.

Fuck this. This jerkoff may have running shoes but I've got a goddamned starship...


Graham realizes jockeying with his communicator may slow him down, but accepts the trade off--and tries to mitigate with the resources they have rather than pulling a hamstring. He's not really sure who was hailing him but simply responds forcefully.

"Graham. In pursuit. Three Teams of two beam down 100 yards ahead of my position given direction of movement, vector 30 degrees each, ditto for Jones."

Thalen says, "Thoth police say Det. Lunnd's doing a forced entry of a suspect's apartment. Other officers confirm he's all right but currently too busy to respond."

Vargas passes Onn along to Ens. Mary Three Crows, the duty Security officer, who fully briefs Onn as to Collins's landing party's mission on the surface. Three Crows says, "Last we heard, they were staking out an apartment building outside and local police were going in after the suspect."

"Get out of my way," the man tells Collins angrily. "I don't have to answer your questions. This isn't your damn city." He tries to walk around her and the hulking Rawlings, who takes out his communicator.

The Yorktown's Transporter Room responds to Graham, "Uh... acknowledged, sir. Stand by." He keeps running after the man for what seems forever. He is getting just a little winded when he hears the telltale hum of transporter beams ahead of him, through the rain and gloom. "Halt!" someone calls ahead. The man slows and Graham makes up lost ground.

Nia thanks Thalen and Three Crows, respectively, and sits back to grind her teeth. She is relieved about Lunnd, of course, but dismayed to learn that there are four Yorktown officers in pursuit of criminals--or staking them out--and she's been blithely unaware of it. A little tug of concern gnaws at her when she hears the strain in Graham's voice, but she's glad he's asked for backup and isn't out there alone.

Not for the first time, she wishes there were some way to display and track the positions of all the ship's crew, like a map with toy soldiers. It's damn frustrating to know her crewmates are running around on the planet in possible danger, while she sits up here utterly ignorant, doing nothing but keeping the Captain's chair warm.

Well, at least she can act on her--or rather, Thalen's--idea. Might not be official yet, but she can ask for compliance. She flips the switch for what feels like the umpteenth time.

"Lt. Onn to all transporter personnel. As you probably know, we've got an investigation into an assault of one of our officers down on the planet. And that means several crew members have been beamed on and off the ship over the past couple of hours."

She swivels and gives Thalen a sideways smile of appreciation as she continues. "While I'm BCDO, I like to know where our people are, especially in a hazardous situation." Call me crazy, I like at least the illusion of control. "So, until otherwise notified, please update me whenever you transport anyone on or off the planet? To clarify," she adds hastily, "I'm not saying my permission is needed beforehand. Not at all. I'd just like to be informed after-the-fact. Agreed, officers?"

"It may not be my city," Collins matches Bobbins' vocal tone, "But as Starfleet Security on a Federation member world, I can detain you until the local authorities arrive. So consider yourself detained." She points her phaser at him, making sure to have a firm grip on it so it cannot be knocked from her hand.

Officers in the four primary Transporter Rooms acknowledge Onn's order, and will comply. Three Crows earlier made clear that only four Yorktown personnel are currently offship.

Bobbins stops, and his eyes widen. He raises his hands and stands there.

"Now," Collins again questions Bob. "where were you this afternoon up until about half an hour ago. Details please."

Bob still seems very frightened to have a phaser pointed at him, and says nothing.

nm

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Graham continues onward toward his best understanding of where his quarry has gone. Any scenario is plausible, from a couple random fools who were in the wrong place at the wrong time to the butt end of a gang that wasted Lunnd and his team. First things first: if Yorktown has come through, we contain these two and then figure out what the hell is going on.

Nia keeps the fingers of her left hand tapping out a haphazard rhythm, and those of her right massaging her temple. Her impatience in waiting for news is mounting. She's also confused about the timeline. To occupy herself, she decides to talk it through, according to what she already knew and what Three Crows has just told her.

"Excuse me," Nia says, turning to face her fellow officers. "Can everyone on the Bridge--those who're not immediately occupied with a task--give a listen here? I'm trying to picture what's happening down below and I'm not sure it makes sense to me.

"Starting from the beginning of this latest development: This Thoth detective, Lunnd, and his crew called up here, said they've followed this suspect to an apartment building. Lunnd told Lt. Collins that they'd be going after him in ten minutes and invited us to join the party. Now I'm assuming the Thoth crowd made sure to keep an eye on the building during this time, so the suspect couldn't leave without being seen. Admittedly that might be a big assumption, but let's hope Lunnd's competent.

"So, Collins, Graham, Jones and Doub--uh, Rawlings--beamed down. Then Lunnd and crew went in, leaving our four outside as backup. We know at least ten minutes have passed since Lunnd contacted us, so the possible assailant's been in there for a while, plenty long enough to enter one of the apartments. With me so far?"

She turns to glance at the viewscreen again, as if trying to locate the scene on the planet below.

"After a few minutes, two people left the building. Graham asked them to stop, that only spurred them into a dash. Graham and Jones started a chase. Collins and Rawlings remained behind.

"I contacted Lunnd at some point--not sure of the timing here--and he didn't answer, which is when I was afraid he'd confronted the suspect and had been taken down. But according to Lt. Thalen's contact with Lunnd's headquarters, Lunnd was still busy trying to enter the suspect's apartment." Nia shakes her head and mutters, "Only the Mother Sid'Os only knows why it's taking this guy so long...has the door got protective shields worthy of a Klingon warship?"

Sighing, she stands up, puts her hands on her hips, and turns around. "Okay, here's the thing. Those two men who left the building... they couldn't have been in this suspect's apartment earlier, since Lunnd's been up there for a while. It's also obvious Lunnd didn't pass them in the hall on their way in, since Lunnd would've seen them go, and--if he recognized one of them as the suspect--stopped them."

She flips a hand over, palm outwards. "So is it me, or does it seem pretty likely that Graham and Jones are chasing two utterly random, paranoid baddies? And since we know this Lez guy was seen going into the building, and no one else has come out...I assume... isn't it almost certain that he's barricaded in his apartment?"

She scowls down at her chair. Wait, Collins never got back to me, did she? Or Rawlings? Damn it, what does it take for these people to communicate? Nia twists her mouth in thought. Unless they're dealing with the suspect themselves. But how did he get past Lunnd? Sure as hell isn't a personal cloaking device. Although...

Oh crap.

Nia snaps her head up to sweep a glance at her crewmates. "Ensign Kylah was transported to the warehouse; that's also how the assailants left the scene. What's keeping this suspect from contacting his buddies to get transported out once he heard Lunnd at his door? I mean, I suppose he could've tried and they're just letting him swing on his own. But I'd sure like to know if there are any transporter signals in that building before we keep wasting time.

"Okay," she says, lifting her hand to gesture to the group. "Now it's your turn. Tell me why my thinking's wrong. Because I can't imagine St. Croix, Collins, Graham and the others wouldn't have been wondering about a transporter themselves."

Graham has his quarry within sight. He can try to tackle him, or use his phaser. Through the dark drizzle he can just see the redshirted forms of two Yorktown Security personnel ahead.

Collins's communicator beeps again. Bob is still standing there, hands raised.

Transporter Chief Nguyen reports to Onn that, at Graham's request, Security officers Dodson, de la Paz, Fox, Bartlett, Coringu and Smith have been beamed down to Thoth, apparently to assist him in a chase.

Also on the Bridge, Thalen ventures, "Transporters certainly complicate law enforcement, ma'am. I've read that many big-city police forces routinely use t-scramblers to keep the bad guys from getting away. I don't know if the Thoth Constabulary uses them, but it wouldn't be a surprise if they did. Of course, they're common in protected areas to prevent unauthorized entry, too."

Bennett adds, "Just because a suspect wasn't seen coming out of a building doesn't mean he's still there, whether or not a transporter was used. The police or an informant might have missed his movements even on foot."

Thalen nods, then touches his earpiece. "Another call coming in from the surface, ma'am. It's Det. Lunnd."

Collins lowers her phaser a bit. "Look, I'm sorry," her voice is softer now. "but really, you can't go in the building right now. The local authorities are closing in on a suspect and there may be crossfire. Please come on over here where it's safer. Maybe you know the suspect and can tell us something about him? Maybe you've seen him this afternoon?" Collins guides Bob over to where she'd taken cover earlier, out of the line of fire.

Nia nods at both Thalen and Bennett. Cece sure has a love for repeating the obvious. "Thanks. I hope you're right about the transporter block, Thalen; hopefully the cops will have told our gang down below whether they've made sure transporting's out of the question for this guy." She glances at Bennett. "And you're right, of course. It's absolutely possible the Thoth police missed the suspect skipping out of a building they were supposed to be watching. But as I said, I was assuming at least some base level of competency. Just a cockeyed optimist, that's me..."

Then Thalen informs her of the contact from Lunnd. "Speak of the devil," she murmurs, and gestures with her head to her chair--a silent command to send the detective to her--before parking herself back down. "Lt. Onn here, Detective. What can you tell me?"

Graham feels certain the fleeing suspect hasn't displayed enough of a threat to justify using a phaser on him--as certain as he felt at the time that using force to release Rangin's slimy little grip on Kylah had been entirely warranted. Instead he does his best to grad--or if necessary tackle--the fleeing man.

Det. Lunnd says, "The suspect - or some of his associates, since he's not here - had a very strong door and three big, angry Melnean dogs in his apartment. It took a little while to get in there safely. I've called Lt. Collins but she didn't answer. Has she had any luck out on the street?"

Thalen says quietly, "Mr. Rawlings is now also calling, ma'am."

"What suspect?" Bob asks Collins warily. "Is there a reward offered?"

Graham puts on a burst of speed and tackles the fleeing man just as the two Security officers ahead, Fox and Coringu, are about to do the same. The man struggles furiously, swearing very loudly, but Graham is bigger and stronger, and able to hold him down. In moments, four other Security officers - Dodson, de la Paz, Bartlett and Smith - approach through the rainy dark, drawn by the sounds of the struggle.

Nia nods to Thalen and rolls her finger to tell him to put the call through. "Detective, I'm about to find out--in fact, Lieutenant Thalen, let's open a group channel so Lunnd can hear Rawlings and me." Despite the seriousness of the situation, Nia can't helping the thought: Won't be my first three-way with Double-T.

She shakes her head and remains businesslike. "Rawlings, I'm here. Detective Lunnd's also listening. He and his team had no luck. What's up with you and Collins?"

"I don't know," Collins answers Bob, "You'll have to talk to the Thoth Police about that." Something about this man has Collins' senses buzzing "If you know anything, you could help us get him off the street. A young woman was robbed and beaten. What if she'd been your sister or your daughter? Please tell us what you know." Her right arm and hand, where she holds her phaser, twitches slightly.

Right behind the group of Security officers, out of the gloom, comes Jones, phaser in hand, and a tall, thin civilian who Graham can tell at a glance is almost as unhappy as the man struggling beneath him on the wet pavement. "Looks like we both got our man, Graham," Jones says.

Rawlings gives Onn a complete update. Lunnd, having listened in, says, "All right, thanks."

Bob crossly says to Collins, "I don't know anything about that. And I don't know who you're looking for."

In Sickbay, Kylah wakes at the whooshing of her recovery room's door. A Command tech, a young Asian man whom she doesn't recognize, enters and puts a communicator on her bedside table. "The Captain asked me to drop this off. It's been preprogrammed for you. Will there be anything else, ma'am?"

"If you don't know, you don't know, but you're not going anywhere just yet." Without changing her stance or taking her eyes off Bob, Collins calls to Rawlings "Call Lunnd. Ask him to join us, please."

Still holding their quarry, Graham gestures with his head toward the nearest Security officers. "Restrain and search this guy."

Assuming the others get control over their detainee, Graham gives Jones a thumbs-up and hails Collins. "Graham to Collins. Jones and I have each detained a runner out the back--we'll head to your location unless you have other orders, L-T."

Being in charge can really be a headache sometimes, Collins muses to herself when her communicator beeps yet again. "Rawlings, cover this guy," she indicates Bobbins, "I gotta take this call," she tells her crewmate, using an ancient phrase.

Once Rawlings is properly poised, Collins opens her communicator. "Collins here, Graham. Come on 'round front with your prizes. Collins out." She presses a couple of button "Collins to Yorktown. We have two, possibly three, suspects in custody. We will turn them over to Lunnd and company when they join us. Will keep you apprised. Collins out."

She replaces the communicator in its holder and faces Bobbins once again, with her right arm slightly raised.

All three prisoners are now under control. A search turns up nothing of interest. Do you arrest them?

Lunnd says to Rawlings, loud enough for Collins to hear, "Are you still outside in the rain? Bring them into the building lobby, please. We'll meet you there."

"Let's go," Collins takes hold of Bob's arm and nods her head towards the apartment building in front of them. She smiles at Rawlings as they escort their possible suspect inside.

Inside the lobby, as she turns Bob over to Lunnd et al, she tells Lunnd "At this point, your legal system is in charge. Let us know what you need from us." She turns to the other Security officers "I hope this makes Kylah feel better." She takes out her communicator and calls the ship. "Collins to Yorktown, the situation is under control now. Detective Lunnd has the reins. Awaiting orders."

Nia's eyebrows raise and she again stands up to look at the viewscreen, still trying to delude herself that she can see Collins and the crew down there if she just squints hard enough. "That's excellent news, lieutenant. Then Graham and Jones also have their targets? And you've confident that they're Ensign Kylah's assailants?"

"I'm confident they did something;" Collins tells Onn, "They certainly act like suspects. My gut tells me these are the guys, but I'll let the forensics folks make the final call. What does Captain Singh and Commander Vargas want us to do now, continue helping the local LEOs, or return to the ship?"

They... act like suspects. Okaaaay. Nia swallows back the words and, not wanting to show her feelings to the others on the Bridge, keeps facing forward. "I'll get back to you on that, Lieutenant. Excellent work. Stand by for orders."

Sitting back on her chair, she cuts the communication, then opens a new channel. "Lt. Onn to Captain Singh and Commander Vargas. I've just heard from Collins; she tells me they have a few men in custody. I know one was held by Collins because he acted suspicious; two others were caught by Graham and Jones for running when asked to halt after they left the building in question. No positive IDs as far as that one named suspect whose DNA was found at the crime scene, as far as anyone's told me. Collins wants to know if you wish them to continue helping the local officers, or if their job is done?"

Nia hesitates. "If I may comment, sirs, I'm not hearing anything that indicates they've actually got one or all of the assailants. And there's been no mention of needing Ensign Kylah for a voice ID. How far do you wish to pursue this? Do you wish me to relay your orders or will you contact Collins yourselves?"

Graham looks at his and Jones' captive to see if he matches the description of Lez. "You refused to obey a lawful order and fled the scene of a law enforcement operation." He looks from one to the other and points in the direction of the building. "We can keep this simple and easy and all take a nice calm walk back to the local police team at the building, or we can make this complicated and unpleasant. I recommend you cooperate with the former."

Ah so no, Graham does not arrest them at least not yet.

You take the three captives into the run-down lobby of the apartment complex. Graham's man looks a lot like the picture he's seen of Lez Trovon, although angrier and scruffier. He has settled down, though. Det. Lunnd pulls out a scanner, uses it and says flatly, "It's him." He scans the other two. Jones's captive is Velig Honul, who is a known associate of Trovon and on parole, as is Trovon. The real name of "Bob Bobbins" is Laran Sloon; he has no recent criminal record and isn't wanted for anything. The Thoth detective checks an Anubis court database and says, "Trovon, Honul, you're both under arrest for associating with a known felon in violation of the terms of your parole, and for failure to comply with police orders. Trovon, you're also under arrest on suspicion of felonious assault, kidnapping, unlawful use of a transporter and felony theft." He reads them their rights as the other Thoth cops scan, frisk and cuff them.

Lunnd then takes Collins aside. She tells him what happened outside, and he asks, "Do you want Sloon held for questioning? We don't know of any connection of his to the other two. I can charge him with failure to comply with a police order, but it might not hold up in court."

Capt. Singh tells Onn, "Our people, or at least Mr. Collins and her original landing party, should remain there as long as needed to cooperate with the Thoth authorities. As soon as Mr. Kylah is up to it, she should submit to a police interview or lineup of whatever kind they think best. Please pass this along to Mr. Collins."

After blinking a few times to clear her vision, Kylah accepts the communicator and looks down at it briefly before returning to look at her benefactor. "No, thank you, I do not need anything further. I greatly appreciate your bringing this to me."

She waits for the unknown man to leave, belatedly realizing that she should have asked his name. Sighing, she again stares at the device in her hand. She had the original communicator for less than a month--her entire time on the ship--and they all look alike. Yet she knows this is not hers, and it feels somehow unfamiliar and strange.

The various medical technology surrounding her keeps the room from being silent, and the longer she is alone, the more she notices the noises. They disturb her and she wants to leave. Will she be allowed to? She does not know the time. She does not know anything that is going on. Have the police down on the planet--or any security from the ship--found anything? No one has questioned her yet, aside from Graham. They are waiting for me. I cannot hide forever. She closes her eyes with the swell of anxiety at the thought. Of course, she would hate for those animals to walk freely, victimizing others. But... what will they tell the police, if questioned? Hopefully nothing. Smart criminals do not speak, do they?

Responsibility wins out over fear. "Ensign Kylah to Lt. Thalen. I am very sorry to bother you, sir; I did not know whom else to contact. I am feeling stronger now, and I thought... if someone wishes to question me, I am ready."

Nia nods. "Aye aye, Captain. I'll pass your orders along." Once the captain is no longer on the line, Nia inhales and flips the switch again, suddenly feeling more like a Communications officer than anything else. "Onn to Collins. The captain would like you and your original landing party--that's you, Rawlings, Graham and Jones, right? --to stay and assist the locals as long as you're needed to assist."

There's a pause as Nia tries to construct a tactful way to put this. "I think Captain Singh wants to make sure we've done our best to help the local LEOs identify at least one of the assailants, so they have a start on the rest. We all want to nab whoever attacked one of our own so viciously--your team probably more than most, I'm sure," she adds warmly. Then: "In the meantime, the rest of the security crew should return, assuming you don't require the backup anymore. But safety's key, so if you still need them, of course, keep 'em. Any questions or anything else I need to know?"

"Collins here, okay," she tells Onn. "The four of us will stay and work with Lunnd and the locals. How is Ensign Kylah? Is she up to a voice line up? That would clinch it. Standing by."
Collins replies to Lunnd. "Ensign Kylah had said there were three assailants. You say he has no recent arrests, is there anything at all in his jacket?"

Graham makes it a point to circulate quietly thank the Security team who apprehended the two for the good work with a quick word, a tap on the shoulder, or a thumbs up.

This is how its supposed to work, we always beat scumbags like this because all they care about is their own ass. We work together as a team and look out for each other... He has to resist frowning. Some of us.

He reminds himself to thank whoever was running the show on Yorktown too... Who was up there during the chase? he tries to remember.

Note that Nia still has no idea that one of the three in custody has actually been identified as the assailant.

Nia thanks Collins and agrees to check on whether Kylah is ready for any ID or questioning. Then she remembers Three Crows and wonders if she's been kept abreast of what's going on planetside. Probably not; they're too busy down there. "While I'm at it, Collins," she adds, "I'll update the duty Security officer for you. I'll get back to you shortly."

She contacts Three Crows with what little she knows thus far: three in custody, four original landing party members are staying on Anubis for now. Once that's done, she moves on. "Lt. Onn to Transporter Chief Nguyen: Heads up, you're about to have a crowd in there. The extra security folks you just beamed down are about to return--probably need two rooms, unless they just--" She suddenly halts. Damn. Is my memory going? "Hold on. I heard Graham ask for three teams of two for him, and then the same for Jones. But you told me we only beamed down six, didn't you? Not twelve?"

Sighing, Nia puts a hand to her forehead, massaging. "We're lucky they didn't need the extras. Look into it for me, will you, Chief? I know things were moving fast and Graham was in motion on foot, hard to hear. But if we left either him or Jones uncovered, that's..." That's exactly what happened on OCIII with Kylah and Kjaerstad, if A.J.'s info is solid...as it usually is. "That's not good. Very not good. We'll have to report this--and thank the stars everyone down there is okay."

Unless Nguyen has something to add (or anyone else interrupts her), she will disconnect and then get in touch with T'Var to find out Kylah's status.

All but Collins and her three original landing party members beam back up without incident. They are all business but seem to appreciate Graham's recognition.

Lunnd says to Collins, "He's got some petty thefts and disorderly conducts on his record, none more recent than seven years ago. Two counterfeiting charges farther back - convicted of one, acquitted of the other." He purses his lips and thinks. "OK, I'll have him held, just to be on the safe side." He tells Sloon, "You're under arrest, too, sir, for failure to comply with a police order and for providing a false name to police."

"She's not police," Sloon snaps.

"She was acting in that capacity when you lied to her," Lunnd shoots back. "For now, you'll be held in custody." Sloon is read his rights, too, as he is scanned, frisked and cuffed.

Thalen passes Kylah's offer along to Onn and Lunnd. The Thoth detective says, "All right, my team will get these three booked. I'll talk to her myself." He asks Collins, "When did you want to go back to your ship?"

Rawlings tells Onn everything she needs to know from the surface.

"We're yours as long as you need us," Collins happily tells Lunnd. "Besides, we should be here for Ensign Kylah, for moral support if she needs it. Just," Collins pauses, "please be very patient with her. If you push her too hard, she'll just close down."

With a satisfied nod, Nia grins as Rawlings finishes his update. "May the rain bless your land, Double-T. Great to hear at least one of the assailants is almost certainly in custody. Please extend my congratulations to Collins, Graham and Jones for their excellent work."

She leans back comfortably in her chair and swivels--almost whirls--around to the rest on the Bridge, sharing her smile with the team. "Good news. They've got a confirmed match on one of the assailants--his DNA was found at the crime scene, so it looks like they've got him dead to rights. Plus, his fellow runner is a known cohort, so that might mean we've got two out of three. They nabbed a third guy there too, but from Rawlings's description of how he acted and his rap sheet, it sounds much less certain. It'll probably be up to Ensign Kylah to drop the hammer on all three if she can ID them, and I guess the Thoth squad will take it from there."

Turning to her normal position, Nia gets back in contact with Lunnd. "Detective, I just wanted to give you my thanks and congratulations. I'm sure our Chief of Security and possibly our Captain herself will want to express their gratitude too. Quick question: I know you said you need to talk to Ensign Kylah. You coming up here for a statement, or will she need to go down there for a line-up or ID? I don't know how much she remembers or saw--or heard--so I guess maybe you just need to talk to her first before you make that decision?"

The detective nods in response to Collins's advice. "She's a witness, not a suspect. Don't worry about it."

She and Onn can both hear as Lunnd says in response to the BCDO, "I'd prefer to come up there. My men can handle the arrestees for now. And... I've never been on a starship before."

Collins smiles. "Collins to Yorktown. Five to beam up." She points to a spot on the ground on which Lunnd should stand, while the others take their places, so that they're all lined up with the transporter pad.

"Of course, thank you, Detective. Onn out." Nia proceeds to contact Vargas, Singh and Three Crows to make sure they are aware of the latest on the situation, including that the detective will be coming on board.

Finally, she hesitates in thought for a moment. "Lt. Onn to Ensign Kylah. Ensign, I am the BCDO and I've been in touch with the Thoth policeman in charge of your case. Since you're able to make a statement, Detective Lunnd will be beaming up here shortly to speak to you. They have three suspects in custody--I'll let him explain the details. But I wanted to ask, before they all converge on you: is there anyone you wish to have present with you?" Her voice softens. "You've been through a great deal and talking to officials can be intimidating, so I thought you might like a friend, someone familiar, nearby during the process. Perhaps the doctor, or your roommate...?"

Kylah sits up carefully, her muscles stiff, and listens to the unknown woman's words. The knowledge that she will soon be facing a stranger fills her with dread, and she bites her lip in consternation when Lt. Onn mentions the possibility of having someone with her.

I want Velir, she thinks, saddened, and brushes her eyes with one hand to get rid of the tears that immediately appear at the knowledge she can not voice the request.

Both T'Var and Collins would be fine. But if she is to deal with the police, only one other name makes sense to her, and she almost blurts it. "Mr. Graham," she says hurriedly, then adds in a more restrained voice. "Please, Lieutenant, if Ensign Graham is free and willing? I would feel most comfortable if he were here."

The ensign sounds so nervous, small and weak, that Nia can't help remembering Kylah's youth again. How would her parents feel if they knew what she's going through, so far from home? But they don't, not yet. They may not ever hear about this, if she doesn't tell them. It's the not knowing...the never knowing She bends her head slightly, closes her eyes, and wipes her mind clear of the painful regrets that serve no purpose.

Then she digests the name Kylah has spoken, and her eyebrows rise up with interest. Graham? Really? What the heck is that about? "Why... sure, of course, Ensign. I'll get in touch with him. He's still on the planet, but probably not for much longer. Even if the team is still needed, there are three other officers down there. I suspect he can be spared for something this important, if... if he's the person you'd feel most comfortable with. I'll do my best to make that happen, okay? Take care and don't be nervous. Everyone is making sure you're safe and those who attacked you are being brought to justice. Onn out."

She sits back and lets her fingers toy with the communication switch before activating it. Are these two... really? Damn, and I thought Bennett was a bit young for him. Nia can't tell whether the thought bothers her more because of her unbidden protective feelings for Kylah, or her only recently formed attraction to Graham. Either way it's ridiculous, none of her bloody business. She barely knows either of them, especially Kylah. Graham's scarred but muscular form in the pool had been belied by his slightly shy, self-deprecating manner. No, he's not a ladykiller type.

Besides, everything she's heard about the little Elasian indicates she's made conquests of all ages, from that Rhaandarite murderer to the nutjob rockstar on down to whatshisname Ferguson. Sounds like Kylah's the one in control in every relationship she has, and Nia's worried about her being taken advantage of by Graham?

With a crooked smile and a mental shrug, Nia again cuts off her emotions and flips the communications switch on her chair. "Lt. Onn to Graham," she says chirpily. "First, congratulations and I'm extremely glad you're safe. Second: if you can be spared, Ensign Kylah is requesting that you be present during her interview with the detective. She sounded... very hopeful that you'd be there. I'd like to accommodate her wishes, if possible. I'm sure Cmdr. Vargas will approve."

Well, she's not sure of anything of the kind, but even Vargas is probably willing to unclench his gluteus maximus muscles long enough to ensure the victim is comfortable while giving what might be a traumatic statement to a strange policeman. "So, join Lunnd if you can, all right, Booker?"

Singh, Vargas and Three Crows acknowledge Onn's update and thank her for it.

Chief Nguyen beams up the Yorktown landing party and Det. Lunnd, and reports to the BCDO what he's done.

Graham gets Onn's call there in the Transporter Room.

The four Security personnel are still quite damp from being out in the rain. Collins thinks a change of uniform might be nice.

"Good job, guys." Collins shakes each crewmates' hands. She pulls at her damp tunic. "I guess we could all do with a change of clothes." She turns to Lunnd and offers her hand, "Detective? Welcome aboard. I'll be happy to show you around, once I've changed. Let's find you somewhere comfortable to wait."

T'Var checks in on Fujishiro before telling Kylah the good news about her release from Sickbay. The doctor expects no change, but she feels a need to spend time with the young officer, anyway. T'Var plans to continue her research in the hope of finding something to help Fujishiro recover. The thought of giving up on her is quite distasteful.

Kylah is glad to hear that she will not be stuck in Sickbay for too long. But her mind is heavily preoccupied with thoughts of what she will tell the Detective. And will Vargas be there? She should have asked the BCDO, that was a stupid omission.

After she hurriedly thanks T'Var for the news, Kylah starts to reach out to T'Var before yanking her hand back--remembering just in time the discomfort she has been feeling on physical contact.

"Doctor, they are coming to take my statement soon." Her words tumble out, whispered and urgent. "A detective from the planet, and I suppose others from security. I have asked if Ensign Graham could be here, but I wonder--would you stay here as well?" Kylah leans forward in agitation. "With everyone else, I feel their emotions and mine, and it makes me so--so on edge. But your presence might obviate that. You calm me."

She glances down, embarrassed at asking for even more of the doctor's time. "I... I would greatly appreciate it, but I fully understand if you have other duties that are likely more important."

Collins finds an empty conference room where Lunnd can wait. She and the others may quickly go and change into dry uniforms.

T'Var finds no change in Fujishiro's condition. She is still in a persistent vegetative state, with little to no prospect of ever emerging from it. Sickbay staff keep her clean and nourished day by day.

Graham receives Onn's hail. At first he's gratified to hear her cheerful congratulations. "Ah, thanks," he starts to answer, relieved to be back on the ship, but then she continues and he doesn't get it out. His jaw clenches and his voice tightens. Kylah's been victimized left and right--on the ship and off, he thinks. "I'll be there," Graham says with a weight he realizes contrast sharply with Onn's cheerful tone. He almost signs off and then after a pause takes a deep breath. "And, ah...thanks, Nia," he adds quietly.

Graham aims to change as quickly as he can and then get to Sickbay.

The intensity in Graham's response when Nia relays Kylah's request is slightly unnerving, but not entirely in a bad way. He sounds grim, yes--a guy Nia wouldn't want to cross if he were defending someone. But the forcefulness, the impassioned commitment, so apparent in those three small words I'm be there, is... well... hot. Or it would be if it were Nia whom he was so determined to protect.

But Nia doesn't need protecting. Maybe that's the issue. Fragile flowers like Bennett; tiny, wide-eyed damsels-in-distress like Kylah... they seem to be what Graham prefers. Of course, Bennett's not nearly as delicate as she seems, and Kylah--other than this awful attack, which Nia has no intention of downplaying--seems to have more than her share of her race's natural control over men, not to mention an obviously strong survival instinct. Still, image is everything. Nia glances down at her own well-toned arms and legs, her utilitarian ponytail holding back her unruly hair, and her confident position even when seated. Nope, not the princess-in-a-tower type.

Oh well. Wouldn't want a guy who requires a weakling anyway. Her disappointment tossed away, Nia flips the communicator switch, playing Communications Officer for what she hopes is the last time.

"Onn to Captain Singh and Commander Vargas. The last members of the landing party have beamed up, along with Detective Lunnd of the Thoth Major Crimes Unit, who's here to interview Ensign Kylah. I took the liberty of letting Kylah know that she can have someone with her during the questioning, and she's picked Ensign Graham. Commander, I thought you in particular might want to talk to Lunnd, since before our guys caught the assailants, his team were responsible for tracking them down in the first place."

Nia pauses and rethinks what she's learned over the course of this investigation. "Although... actually, I should mention that none of that would've been possible without the data gathering efforts of Ensign Rangin. He's the one who picked up the assailant's DNA at the scene of the crime. Just want to make sure you knew that." So you're both aware it wasn't just your redshirts who've earned the kudos here. "I'll make a full report when everything is concluded--and it looks like we're close to it, at least as far as the ship's role is concerned. That's the state of things, Captain; Commander."

"Of course," T'Var assures Kylah. "I will stay."

The doctor sits at Kylah's bedside. "You are still recovering from your injuries. If at any time you wish this detective to leave, I will make certain that he does."

Collins makes a mad dash to her quarters, quickly changes, and double-times it back to the conference room without breaking a sweat or appearing out of breath.
"Okay, then, Detective" she says cheerily, "What would you like to see first?"

The Captain and First Officer thank Onn for her report. Vargas says he will meet with the Thoth detective.

Lunnd does not mind the brief wait and replies to Collins, "The witness, if she's up to it." Soon the Security officer and cop are walking down a Deck 7 corridor towards Sickbay when Vargas rounds a corner, coming from the other direction.

Graham dries himself, changes and is just leaving his quarters.

Collins stops abruptly and stands at attention. "Sir." she declares at Vargas. She then relaxes and introduces him to the detective. "I'm bringing Detective Lunnd to Sick Bay to talk with Ensign Kylah, sir."

Kylah thanks T'Var, somewhat distractedly, but appreciates the reminder. Yes, I can use my injuries. If things get too... difficult... She is ashamed that she is already planning on evading questions by pretending to be weaker than she is.

Of course, she is feeling fairly weak, but a proper Elasian woman does not pretend to be frail--unless it has a tactical advantage. This, while it is an advantage, is not a worthy use of such acting skills.

She looks down at herself and pulls the blankets to cover as much of her body as possible. The hospital gown is not immodest--not by Elasian standards--but she feels cold and vulnerable. Her face must look terrible. Even though most of the bruises would have been healed by T'Var and Villa, some are probably still evident. Then there are her eyes, which might well have been rubbed by coarse sandpaper, with all the crying she has done. They must be red and swollen--and her makeup must be gone or turned into black smudges.

Will Graham be here? The other officer--Lt. Onn?--said she would do her best. But is that good enough? Kylah very much needs Graham's presence, as the only person who knows the truth. He might be able to stop her from saying too much, or he could reword a question so it avoids anything too incriminating on her part.

This detective is here to help me, she thinks, trying to remind herself that she is not a suspect, but a victim. She ponders what Onn told her: three suspects already in custody. How could they have been found so soon? It is astonishing. The detective and his team must be very good--or the criminals very foolish and sloppy.

But she remembers the ringleader. If he truly was the man she spoke with in the basement... That man, so calm, businesslike, polite, even as he likely planned to kidnap and rob her. She cannot imagine him being so foolish or sloppy. No. I was the foolish and sloppy one. Not him. Is he in custody? Will I... Kylah gasps when she remembers Onn's words. "...Before they all converge on you..." Does that mean... will the suspects be brought here for her to identify? Will she have to see them again? Of course she will not recognize the men in masks, but if the money exchange man is there, she will have to see him again. And their voices... She heard at least one of them, possibly two.

She turns to T'Var, almost dizzy from the blood draining from her face. "Do you know if they will be there?" she whispers. "The men they caught? Will I have to see them? I do not want to. I... I know I must, at some point, but I--" Kylah swallows and tries to regain her composure. "I will do what is necessary, doctor, but I am afraid. I hate to admit how afraid I am. Even here, on the ship, surrounded by colleagues. My family would be so ashamed."

Once she's finished reporting, Nia rubs a finger across her lips in thought for a moment. Telling Singh and Vargas about the DNA match that was the key to capturing at least one of the assailants... all that's well and good. But what are the odds that anyone's informed the actual crew member who found the DNA of the cops' success?

I'm guessing from zero to none. Security will be patting backs and bumping fists or chests or whatever it is they do. Their adrenaline'll be running too high to remember how they got these guys in the first place.

"Lt. Onn to Ensign Rangin," Nia says after switching sides to be closer to her chair's communications mic. "Sorry to interrupt whatever you're doing. I don't know if you've heard, but if not, I just wanted to let you know that the DNA you found back at the crime scene? The Thoth police matched it to an ex-con and tracked him down. He fled but our security team nabbed him, plus a known colleague who also ran and might've also been involved. There's one more in custody--not sure how he plays into this." She pauses, then adds quietly, "My point is, sometimes the big finale gets all the applause. But that doesn't occur in a vacuum, and as BCDO during all this I was able to see the whole picture. So I made sure the captain and first officer know the part you played. You should be proud, Ensign."

Disturbed from reading the documentation by the call, Rangin puts the notes down and accepts it listening to what Lt. Onn is saying.

A slow feeling of relief that his work had accomplished something washes over him. "Thank you, ma'am. It means a lot. I'm just relieved what little I could do has helped out." he says softly, with a tinge of regret knowing he cannot share this little moment of triumph with Kylah.

She may not care for him any more and it was obvious Security didn't give a damn, but it still mattered to him.

Vargas and Lunnd shake hands, and the First Officer welcomes him aboard. Lunnd briefly tells him what has been learned in the investigation so far. Vargas says, "Thank you, Detective. We appreciate the attention being paid to this matter by the Thoth Constabulary. Mr. Collins, please keep me updated." He goes on his way.

Collins and Lunnd proceed to Sickbay. Graham arrives soon after. An orderly shows the three into Kylah's recovery room.

"Kylah," Collins approaches her roommate "this is Detective Lunnd. He's heading up the investigation on Anubis. If you'd like me to stay while you two talk...?"

Kylah's breath turns shallow when the door slides open to reveal the threesome. Seeing Graham among them relaxes her muscles slightly, and she sends a relieved and grateful glance to him. Then Collins offers to stay as well. Kylah's gaze now shifts to the detective. Will he find it strange that she needs so much support? She tries to gauge this stranger's mood. Is he sympathetic? Businesslike? Indifferent?

"Yes, please, Lt. Collins," she says, the words coming out more as an exhale than speech. She moistens her lips and tries to examine all three at the same time. "First, I must thank all of you. I hear you might have caught them. That is... astonishing. I would not have thought it possible to work so quickly."

The more she talks the colder and smaller she feels. Kylah reaches out mentally to T'Var, hoping some of the Vulcan's resolve and emotional strength will radiate to cover her like an extra blanket. "Please tell me no one was injured during any of this. I could not bear to think I was the cause of anyone..." She darts a desperate look at Graham and Collins. "Is everyone all right?"

"Everyone is fine." Collins tells Kylah. "The worst that happened is we got rained on." She smiles and puts her hand on Kylah's shoulder in a comforting manner.

Before entering Kylah's room in Sickbay, Graham clears his head. This isn't the time to be thinking of Rangin, or this Lez scumbag: his reason for being here is to make Kylah--a victim, and witness--feel safe and comfortable.

He centers both his mind and body and performs a few moments of breathing exercises--almost as if he were about to do martial arts sparring with a skilled partner. Focused, alert, but relaxed, knowing there was absolutely zero danger.

Though she returns Collins's kind smile, Kylah's muscles tense in automatic reaction to her touch. She manages to utter some sincere words of relief that no one was harmed, but her mind is screaming Get off me, get off me even as the inevitable burning sensation races from Collins's consoling fingertips on her shoulder to her eyes. There is Collins's intention to comfort, she can still sense that, but on top of the other woman's emotions is a searing dizziness roiling in Kylah's mind.

Why is this happening? It is like nothing she has felt before. She shrinks inward and, searching for some pretext, any pretext, to extricate herself from Collins's hand, she bends down to reach for her bag. Why will she not get the message? Kylah pleads inwardly, grabbing at the ripped strap and jerking it upwards from the floor. Must I shout that I do not wish to be touched?

She sidles away from Collins, as well-meaning as the other woman is, and hugs the bag to her again. It strikes her for the first time that it is strange that the bag has not already been taken as evidence. But she is glad that, for whatever reason, it has not. The remnants of her zither and the sole remaining dress are still inside, and she wants them all: the dust that was once spider-web-thin crystal, the powder that was once gleaming slate, and the pretty light blue dress now covered in both. Kylah does not want anyone else to have them, even for a moment.

Det. Lunnd is a middle-aged man of average appearance in a nice suit. He has a calm, businesslike demeanor. He seems to notice Kylah's body language and does not offer to shake hands. He takes a seat near her and says, "You can have anyone in the room that you like while we talk to one another, but I will ask them to say nothing to prompt you during my questioning. This is just between you and me, Ensign. Is everyone agreed?"

Kylah is not sure if Lunnd is asking her the question, but regardless of what the others do, she nods silently. Her face feels numb and affectless.

Collins nods and moves to stand by T'Var.

It's not totally lost on Graham that Lund's admonition gets hims off the hook from speaking up if anything Kylah says now conflicts with what she confided in him earlier, at least in the moment.

He moves to take a position next to the head of Kylah's bed, hands clasped behind him, facing out toward the door as if on diplomatic security duty for a dignitary.

On his way he nods to Lunnd. "Understood, Detective." He gives a little nod to Kylah and says quietly, "The detective's job is arresting the people who did this to you. I know you'll do your best to help make that possible." Just before he pivots into position he leans forward and says as softly as he can, intended for her ears only, "Just because nobody else will be blabbing away doesn't mean you're alone."

He takes his intended position and starts running through by-the-book threat assessments: meters and tick tock from door-to-Kylah, me-to-bed, species reaction times (Vulcan will be faster on average than human, and so on).

He'd had assignments supporting DiploSec, but never a primary role: one in which it was expected that you shield your charge with your own body if necessary, without hesitation. He's not sure he could do that "on assignment" at the flip of a switch for whatever muckety-muck he happened to be assigned to guard on any given day. But he's sure he could do that now for Ens. Kylah if it were necessary.

Try as he might, Rangin feels uncomfortable and cannot concentrate on the figures and diagrams in front of him. Thoughts of Kylah keep running through his mind following the good news from Lt. Onn and Rangin cannot deny that it is good news. It just seems so hollow with no-one to share it.

However, if the perpetrators have been caught, there is one last thing to sort out and then, perhaps, he can put it out of his head and start working again. He accesses the computer and sends a note to Lt. JG. Collins as perhaps the best person to resolve Rangin's headache.

Though it sickens him to have to deal with Security again, and certainly someone who has little respect for him, she is in charge of the investigation and if it helps to resolve some tension between the two roommates, well they were welcome to each other. With luck, it would keep them away and Rangin can forget all about the pair.

To Lt. JG Collins,

Would you be able to assist with a request made of Hathor LEO. Among the items found in the crime scene were some remains of Ens. Kylah's zither and I requested that they be returned once they had been catalogued and they had no further use of them. I believe that Ens. Kylah would prefer to have them returned to her than they remain in an evidence locker. As I have been informed that some of the perpetrators have been discovered, would it be possible for you to request their return?

Rangin felt crushed. He knew that the zither was important to her, almost as much as his own N'horel. A little piece of him wants to ignore it, leave it mouldering on Anubis tagged and unseen, a open wound in Kylah's heart, but he cannot and will not. Ens. Graham would have no problems in forgetting something like this and he wasn't going to sink to that level. Besides, he thought wryly, everytime someone accuses him, he can think back to this and know that the accusation was a lie.

Looking over the brief message, it wasn't enough. Collins inward-looking nature needs a little prodding, a little something for her to gain from this. Thinking back to how he found Kylah initially, Rangin smiles an evil little smile. He can give Collins something that would appeal to her detective senses and also help to convict those caught. Would Collins have already though of it: forcing a confession from someone perhaps, using the evidence obliquely, no it was unlikely. Rangin continues typing...

Further to this, the material the zither was made from is a fairly unique stone of a type not found on Anubis. As the zither was smashed, it is highly likely that anyone smashing it would have dust particulates of that material embedded in their clothing. Given its rarity, if fragments of that type were found on the clothing of the assailants it would be a physical indicator they had been responsible for the assault and further proof of culpability.

I hope this information is of use to the investigation.

Ens. Rangin

Most people looking at the zither would have thought it was just stone, without considering where it could have come from. As they smashed it, they marked themselves as the culprits. Rangin nods in appreciation of the irony as he attaches the physical signature of the zither to the note and sends it off.

Once it is gone, he sits back in the chair and relaxes. The last thing he can do with Anubis is done, the rest is out of his hands. Feeling the weight lifting from his shoulders, he no longer has to worry about Kylah or Collins or anyone else, he can just get on with life.

"I do not know," T'Var answers. "I would assume the detective would wish to speak with you first. And I am certain you would not need to confront the suspects in such a direct way."

I assume WES posted that before Det. Lunnd entered the room.

The Thoth cop takes a small datapad from his coat pocket, touches a control and sets it on Kylah's bedside table. "Ens. Kylah, as you know, I'm investigating the attack on you and the theft of your property. This will be your official police statement, and everything you say is being recorded. Anything you remember about what happened, anything at all, might turn out to be useful. If there's something you later remember after our talk here today, please let me know as soon as possible. What matters is that you're completely honest and forthright. If, at any time, you'd like any of these folks to step out of the room for some particularly... difficult part of your story, just say so. All right? Now, just take it from the top, and tell me what happened from the time you first went down to the surface."

Collins hears her communicator beep. "Excuse me," she says, and steps out of the room so as not to disturb Kylah and Lunnd. She reads Rangin's message and replies

Thank you for the suggestions. I will take care of it. And thank you for all your help with the investigation. I imagine we would still be searching the planet for Kylah if you hadn't come up with a way to pinpoint her location.

She then calls the Bridge. "Collins here. Please put me through to Office Pendleton of the Hathor police department. Standing by."

T'Var closely observes everything and everyone in the room. She will check the monitors carefully as Kylah is questioned to make sure her readings remain steady.

Staring at the datapad as if it is a timed explosive, Kylah begins quietly and in a monotone. "I went down to the planet this morning--ship's time--with a friend. Colleague. Ensign Velir Rangin. I had brought my bag with me, this bag, because I wished to repair my musical instrument. It was an heirloom and I had found a music shop while researching up on the ship. I... I had forgotten that the bag contained some other objects from a trip I had taken before I arrived on the Yorktown. Some clothes. And a bag of jewelry."

She avoids Graham, and most especially T'Var, as she recites the lies that will help explain her behavior on the planet. The thought of the jewelry pains her, and she bows her head to look at the bag before lifting her gaze to the space between Lunnd and Graham. She describes finding the music shop closed and then her and Velir's coming across the bar, and carefully--not wanting to get the bartender involved or lie too much depending on what he has already said--explains:

"The man seemed knowledgeable and I asked him if he could help me. He knew someone. I would need cash, not credits, and I did not know how to exchange them. He thought he could guide me, and later, when Vel... Mr. Rangin left for the restroom, a man came in and the bartender indicated that this person would be a good contact. So I followed him down to the basement. There was an office there," she adds quickly, realizing how squalid it all sounds.

"He was... businesslike. It all seemed very simple and straightforward. I would give him credits and pay a small surcharge, and he would give me cash--Andorian crowns. But I needed to wait, since he did not have the cash on him. It all made sense. I did not think there was anything wrong, and I... I am good at sensing others' motives. Or I thought I was." Kylah flushes and glances at the detective. "I have been wrong a lot lately," she murmurs.

She continues, explaining how she was told to come back in an hour, her request for more time being granted by Lt. Thalen, and her discovery that Velir had disappeared. It is harder for her to maintain her composure, and her words begin to falter. "I did not know where he was. It was my fault, I should not have taken so long. But I contacted him and we agreed to meet up. I went to buy a gift, a small token, just to make up for being rude, and then..."

Kylah frowns now and looks down at her bag again, puzzled. Where did the gift bag go? She is distracted for a few seconds, shakes her head, then tries to continue.

"And then I met up with him. He was--he was angry, because I had kept him waiting, and I understand that. It was my fault," she repeats, and the memories of Velir's ugly barrage of words comes rushing forward to assault her again. Kylah stops speaking. There is no reason to bring up something this personal and shameful. She clutches her bag more tightly. "A-anyway, he decided to go back up to the ship without me. It was understandable, I had permission to stay, but he did not, so... so I left as he was about to beam back." Her eyes burn with unshed tears but she does not let them conquer her.

She goes on without too much alteration. She does mention that she noticed there were many in the bar who looked distrustfully at her uniform, and so she changed out of it into one of the dresses she had brought along, just to avoid the stares. The entire money exchange is easy to describe, it was so quick and terse.

"I went back up and out of the bar, and now had to go find the place I had been told of. I do not even remember the name. My memory is foggy..." She touches her fingertips to her still sore temple and shakes her head weakly, her apologetic and embarrassed gaze meeting Lunnd's before she drops it again.

"I suppose I was not paying enough attention except to the street names. It was foolish, I now had this heavy, expensive briefcase with me, plus my heavy bag, and I must have seemed ignorant of my surroundings. Anyone could have followed me. People had seen me in the bar, they could have seen me in the streets, and I... I do not know. It was getting late and I just wanted to do what I needed to, and leave. I stopped to look at a map, and then...something started to happen to me. I felt... something was pulling at me. Tingling. I--I do not remember exactly. I might be misremembering, because I believe I was transported, and so I imagine I must have felt something. I think I did, but I... I just do not know..."

Kylah, getting more distressed, notices a buzz of nervousness throughout her body. Her muscles are as tense as if, now that she is closer to discussing the actual attack, her body must prepare to defend herself again, to feel the pain again. She clutches her trembling hands--they seem ice-cold--and turns to T'Var and Graham in turn. "I am sorry," she croaks. "May I... may I have some water, please?" She turns to the policeman, again bashful. "Excuse me," she says, her voice hollow. "It is difficult. If you need to ask me anything in the meantime..."

Pendleton comes on the line with Collins. "What's up, Lieutenant?"

Det. Lunnd pours Kylah a cup of cold water from a nearby carafe and hands it to her. He is careful to maintain a neutral expression, but Kylah thinks he already seems skeptical. He scratches an ear and says, "Go on when you're ready, please, Ensign."

"I wanted to give you an update," Collins tells Pendleton, "although by now I'm sure you've heard. Thoth has three suspects in custody, one of them linked to the DNA sample. Detective Lunnd is on the ship now, interviewing our Ensign Kylah, the victim. I would like to request two things: One, that you try to match the dust from the smashed zither crystals to the clothes and shoes of the suspects. The material from which it was constructed is very rare, and should be easily identifiable; and two, as our Ensign Rangin had requested, once your people are done with analyzing and cataloging them, to please return the remaining pieces of the zither. It was very precious to Ensign Kylah. We're sure she'd like to have whatever is left of it back."

Kylah does not understand the man's skepticism--none of her own motives should matter--but she is still unnerved even further. She drinks the water, her chattering teeth clinking against the cup, and sets it down before hugging her bag again.

"Thank you," she murmurs, then takes a steadying breath. "The next thing I remember is... one moment I was on the street, the next in this--this blackness. It was so dark. But soon I saw others around me. They were... I think they were three men. At least those are all I noticed. I--I did not know who they were, what they wanted, but I saw--" They seem, horrifyingly, decapitated. Until at last they coalesce out of the shadows and her eyes can trace the shapes of their ink-black heads. "I saw they were wearing masks. Black. Silk, perhaps, some kind of material, I do not... It was covering their faces, everything, even their mouths. They were only voids."

She shuts her eyes against the rising terror. "Two of them were carrying something. Sticks or clubs. The other--he seemed to be the leader--he was armed too." Her eyes open again, but the sickbay might as well have disappeared. All she can see is the weapon facing her. "A phaser or... a disruptor? I do not know. I do not know."

Swallowing, she shakes her head. "I am sorry. I... this is harder to remember. It is flashes. I think he demanded the briefcase. I must have refused, I do not know what I was thinking. Stupid. Stupid. I was surrounded, what did I think--" She breaks off and has to wipe her angry tears from her face. "The other two men came toward me and I dropped the briefcase. Then he said..."

Kylah stops to think. Her head hurts again, more than before, and she feels dizzy. Her own emotions are doing this. Or are they Graham's? She cannot tell. Anger and fear and disgust all whirl within her, nauseating her. "No, it was not he. One of the men with the clubs then wanted to know what was in my own bag. I--I could not let him have this.

"I know it was just as foolish but I could not. It was my zither, my jewelry. It was mine. But the leader ordered the man to take it from me. He--" Her eyes open wider. "He used a name. It was short. Del? Lez? Les?" She squeezes her fingers against her throbbing head. "I think it was Les. Something like that.

"After that I still fought. I think I took out my knife, I--" Flushing, Kylah stares through her blurry vision to the detective. "Elasian women carry knives. Here." She rests her hand against her thigh beneath the blankets. Only now does she realize that it feels bare and naked--of course, the medical team must have removed the leather hilt. Or she hopes it was the team. "I do not remember much now. Except they began to hit me. One of them struck my hand." She looks at her left wrist. "They crowded around me. Then--then--"

She shuts her eyes again, shaking her head. "I do not know," she whispers. "The next thing I remember is waking up into that same darkness. But alone. And everything hurt. Everything. I thought I was sweating, dripping all over me, but I... I think it was actually blood. When I could see I knew they were gone and... I saw my communicator, smashed to pieces. I had forgotten all about it. I should have called for help before, I did not even remember... I think because I had changed from my uniform, and so I put it--"

Her hand reaches to her chest, and she stares down. "How did they find it? If they found it, they must have... put their hands on me. While I was unconscious." She feels sick, and she cannot seem to get enough air. Breathing shallow and fast, she tries to continue, but almost nothing else is returning to her. "I--I do not know much else. I must have found my way out because I was suddenly in this--this big space. Outdoors. All gray and... hard. With buildings in the distance." Kylah looks at her bag. "This was with me. They had not taken it. But my knife was gone. My jewelry--my mother's jewelry--gone. My uniform..." She is at a loss, it seems unfathomable. "Why would they take that? And why would they do what they did to my zither?

"They destroyed it. It was worth thousands, more than the gold crowns they stole, but instead of stealing it they--they pulverized it. Why? I would rather that they have taken it, sold it, at least it would be whole and would not be--be desecrated. But no. They broke it and left both of us there like--like garbage. Trash."

Her tears spill out and she does not bother to stem them. "That is all I remember. Being in that empty space, wanting to get to the buildings, realizing everything that mattered was gone. And then I was here." She turns slightly in T'Var's direction. "With Dr. T'Var. And... I think... Lt. Collins. So I knew I was on the ship. I do not know how I got here." At last she makes a half-hearted attempt to wipe her eyes. "It is probably nothing that helps you, detective. I am sorry. I wish I could have been useful. Just once," she whispers, and the tears fall again.

Pendleton says, "That shouldn't be a problem. I'll get in touch with the Thoth detective bureau and see about that testing."

"No, that is helpful, thank you," Lunnd says kindly to Kylah. He gives her a handkerchief for her tears. "That's a good start. Would you like to take a break? Are you up to some questions?" He looks at T'Var as if to say, Is she going to be able to get through this?

Accepting the handkerchief with a soft thank you, Kylah blots her tears carefully. "Yes," she says, folding and unfolding the material with methodical abstraction as she looks at the detective. "I mean--no, I do not need a break. I want to get this over with. I do not know if you have caught everyone yet, but if not, I would not want to waste time."

She catches his look toward T'Var and shakes her head worriedly--regretting the quick movement but hiding the resulting ache and dizziness. "I am fine. I promise. Please, sir, ask whatever you need to."

Graham had taken his position facing the door, rather than Kylah, as a matter of sensible Security protocol...but he's all the more grateful he's not looking directly at her as he listens to her recollection of events.

At several points his jaw clenches: to be sure, she's not disclosing the full breadth of what she told him, but she's not on trial.

His anger that Rangin left her alone is only mitigated by the fact that he's sure at this point any influence he might have over Kylah is something akin to a snake that needs to be crushed or an infection that needs to be eradicated.

Lunnd at least seems to be no bullshit and Graham is grateful--and profesionally respectful--of that.

But the hardest part is when Kylah describes trying to fight, Alone, surrounded.


Oh Jane, did you try to fight...alone, surrounded...

Graham fixes his eyes in a hundred-yard stare, hands clasped behind his back in parade rest, feeling as if an arc of electricity connects that time ten years ago with what Kylah went through a short time ago.

And where were you, Booker? You have to be there. You have to be there.

"Terrific," Collins tells Pendleton, "Thank you so much. Collins out." She puts her communicator away and goes back into Kylah's room. She sees Graham standing sentry, but his face tells her his mind is lightyears away. "You okay, Book?" she asks, keeping her voice quiet so as not to disturb the interview.

Det. Lunnd clears his throat and says, "I do have some questions, then. You may have to repeat yourself at times." He asks the following, listening carefully and waiting for each answer before asking the next question:

"What sort of repair did your zither need?"
"Why didn't you repair it yourself?"
"Why not wait for repair by an Elasian specialist?"
"What was the value of the zither?"
"Why could you not pay for repairs with Federation credits?"
"How much money did you want to get exchanged?"
"Why not go to a bank or travelers aid office in Thoth to exchange currency?"
"Why did you pick that particular bar?"
"Who else did you speak to at the bar?"
"Pardon me for asking, but are you and Ens. Rangin romantically involved?"
"Do you think he is responsible in any way for what happened to you?"
"Think carefully, please. What else can you recall about the people who attacked you?"
"Did you injure any of them when you resisted?"
"How many of them spoke, and what did they say?"
"Were their accents revealing in any way?"
"Would you recognize their voice or voices if you heard them again?"

Graham's startled by Collins' question, and as he snaps back to the moment for an instant his haunted expression looks as if to say no, I'm not, I'll never be.

But then he pushes that aside blinks and takes a gulp of air. "Yeah, fine," he whispers back, nodding slightly. "Thanks," he adds with a slight smile that probably looks obviously fake but is at least intended to be sincere.

"What sort of repair did your zither need?"

Kylah is, to put it mildly, shocked that the detectives first question puts her in the spotlight. She swallows and replies, "Its strings... there were four that were broken."

"Why didn't you repair it yourself?"

"My zither's strings are finely spun crystal, they are... were..." She chokes and looks at the bag, then hurriedly refocuses on the detective. "They are unique and I do not have the skill to fix such things. It takes a proper artisan to fix such an instrument. Clearly you have never seen an Elasian zither," she concludes, a trace of hauteur entering her tone despite herself.

"Why not wait for repair by an Elasian specialist?"

The tenor of his questions is unnerving her. Why is he focusing on this? "My people are not spread throughout the quadrant as humans have, Detective, and I have no idea when I will return to Elas. I use my zither for practice, it is my Guardian's wish that I keep up my studies. I did not want to wait months and months. This is the first planet on which we have had shore leave, so..." She shrugs helplessly. "I--I do not understand why it matters..."

"What was the value of the zither?"

This, at least, makes sense. Although the was still stings. "In federation credits? I cannot imagine it selling for less than 40,000. Most likely 50,000 for anyone who knows antiques, and higher for musicians or collectors."

"Why could you not pay for repairs with Federation credits?"

"I do not know. It is what I was told."

"How much money did you want to get exchanged?"

"6,000 credits." Kylah hesitates. "But the man's exchange fee would have been 1,500 on top of that, so... a total of 7,500 credits."

"Why not go to a bank or travelers aid office in Thoth to exchange currency?"

Her face is beginning to turn red, both in alarm and growing anger. "I do not... I did not think of that. I am not usually involved in financial matters, my Guardian has a royal advisor take care of such things." This much is the truth. Her mind searches for further explanation.

Of course: the bartender. He is likely involved, and his story will not be believed. She hurries on. "When I asked the bartender to assist me with finding someone who could perform repairs, he mentioned the need for cash and said he could help me with the exchange. It only seemed convenient to..." She falters. She knows she is making herself sound even more naïve and out of touch than she already is. But it cannot be helped.

"Why did you pick that particular bar?"

"I do not remember. We were walking and I wanted to find a local establishment, nothing for tourists. At the time I did not have the thought of seeking additional help for my zither, but the man seemed knowledgeable and..."

"Who else did you speak to at the bar?"

"There was... there was a group of locals. They were staring at us, Velir and me. Ensign Rangin," she corrects in growing frustration. "They did not seem to appreciate having members of Starfleet near them. But later I was in the restroom and saw one woman being violently ill. Afterward I stopped to ask if she was one of their party, because she sounded--" Kylah's face contorts slightly in disgust. "She sounded very bad. I thought it would be best to call for medical help but one of the women just told me she would take care of it."

"Pardon me for asking, but are you and Ens. Rangin romantically involved?"

The question stops her short. She stares at Graham, feeling betrayed. Why would this man ask such a thing? Her cheeks must be as red as Graham's uniform. "No. No, we are not. We were--it is true our friendship was moving in that direction, and I hoped--" Her throat is tight and she struggles to get the words out. "I hoped for more. I thought he did. But we have never really... And we argued, badly, and nothing will happen now," she finishes miserably. Then her indignation flares again, much more dully. "I--I do not understand why you would ask about my personal life. What possible relevance could it have?"

"Do you think he is responsible in any way for what happened to you?"

Again Kylah's instinct is to turn to Graham, but she quickly forces herself to keep staring at the detective. "No. He is not a violent man, not at all--even if he were, there would be no reason, it is impossible. He was not even on the planet. He would have had to... to plan all this. When could he have done so? No, he cannot be responsible." She hesitates and her gaze wanders downward. If he had not said those things, if he had stayed, I would not have kept the appointment. But that is not his responsibility. It was my fault. Without speaking further, she just shakes her head.

"Think carefully, please. What else can you recall about the people who attacked you?"

Her heart is pounding so hard from the other questions that Kylah is now surprised to hear the detective returning to the actual crime. She closes her eyes and thinks, trying simultaneously to calm down and to conjure up their images. Then her shoulders slump and she shakes her head again. "There is nothing. They were all just... men. With masks. I could not even tell you their clothes--"

Kylah cuts off and turns to the right, a spark of memory igniting within her damaged memories. "No. Wait. The leader... he wore an overcoat. And I think... it was unlike the others... it seemed to be over a suit."

"Did you injure any of them when you resisted?"

Kylah tries and tries but cannot remember. "I do not know. I might have. I tried to, as I said, with my knife. But I do not recall if I struck true before they clubbed me." She unconsciously lifts her left hand, which still feels weak. "If it had been my right hand, I would say almost certainly. But my left has been less agile since a slime devil attack earlier this month. During a mission," she adds, probably unnecessarily.

"How many of them spoke, and what did they say?"

"It was mostly the leader. Only one of the others said anything--at least, that I can recall. I am sorry, so much of what happened in that room is just a blur." She concentrates again. "The leader... I call him that but only because he seemed to do little himself... he just told the others what to do. He told me to give him the briefcase. No--no, he said to drop the briefcase. When I did not, he said... something about he would not ask twice, and then ordered the others to take it from me."

The more she thinks, the more some words turn solid, less fragmented, in her brain. "I remember... I thought at the time it was likely that he was the man who had exchanged my money. He would be the person who knew best what I was carrying in the briefcase. I think I accused him of this. I think..." She rubs her weary eyes, wishing she could push the memories back into her mind. "One of the others, the one who did not take the briefcase--he was the one to ask me what was in my bag. I think I told him to leave me be. And because I now believed the leader to be the money exchange person, I told him that he had my credits and my cash, that should be enough."

The words strike her as ridiculous. As if thieves have some honor system. "I cannot believe what a fool I was. Did I think they would stop? I was all alone, they were armed, there was nothing I could do if they wanted to take everything, to kill me, to--to do anything they wanted." Kylah's stomach twists and how much worse, even worse than a concussion, this could have ended. "Naturally the man knew exactly that. He even said--" Her mouth stays open for an instant longer as a little memory nudges its way forward. "He admitted it," she whispers in wonder. "I think he admitted it. He said that no, the cash and credits were not enough. Or something like that. Why would he say that if it were not the same man? Or connected to him," she admits, but is not convinced. "Of all of them, his voice was the only one that seemed a bit familiar. Except it was muffled. I cannot be sure. Anyway, that is when he told one of them--this Les or Lez person--to take the bag. And after that... I do not remember. I truly do not. I am sorry."

"Were their accents revealing in any way?"

She shakes her head. "The other man who spoke said so little... I am good with accents, it is part of my job, but there was nothing noticeable. And the leader--well, it was not his accent, but his words--if he was the man I had met earlier--he spoke in a fairly refined way when we were doing the exchange. It was the same in the--the room, the dark room where they brought me. He sounded like every businessman I have met. Not that I have met many..." Kylah flushes, thinking of Jan, and she moistens her dry lips. "I just mean, he did not sound rough. Except for what he was saying and ordering the others to do."

"Would you recognize their voice or voices if you heard them again?"

Kylah looks blankly at the detective. "I do not know. Possibly the ringleader. The other one, who said for me to give him the bag... I am not sure. It was so brief, and I was so scared... I do not know," she repeats, defeated.

Kylah realizes that Det. Lunnd's questions were roughly chronological, even if some of them were upsetting. Now he nods, apparently satisfied. "Thank you, Ensign. Is there anything else you'd like to tell me? Anything else that might be useful for my investigation, or that any of my questions brought to mind?"

What his questions brought to mind? Frankly, after she briefly considers the chronological excuse for Lunnd's intrusive questions, Kylah is now even more upset that she finds herself apologizing for the detective's absurd questions. After all, she is not on trial. Chronological indeed! There is no reason the man needs to know anything about my zither other than its value. Is he a detective or a defense attorney?

She restrains herself and refocuses on his emotions. He seems to be convinced--or at least, he accepts her responses.

"I cannot think of anything. Then again... I do not know if this is important, but earlier I thought it possible that I was recognized, and targeted because of that. Recently I have been... in some news reports, and gossip... due to a murder investigation on our last mission. There were some things said about me, lies, but the reports might have mentioned my relationship to Elasian royalty."

Kylah purses her lips in thought, then shakes her head. "It is probably unconnected. I suppose the man who exchanged my money could have recognized my name when I was transferring the credits, or if I am wrong and these were just thieves who saw me with the briefcase, they could possibly have recognized me from my picture--I do not know if any ran with the reports. I hope not."

She sighs. "This was all just speculation. Searching for a reason for what seems... so unnecessarily violent. And for the kidnapping. Could they not have just grabbed the briefcase while I was walking alone in the twilight? I could have offered no resistance. They did not have to transport me, to isolate me like that."

She falls into a few haunted moments of silence. Part of her wants to express how very personal it seems. Spiteful. "What I truly do not understand is why they took my knife and uniform... they were not of value, except to me. And what they did to my zither. That felt especially cruel."

Her eyes brim again, and she uses the handkerchief before she embarrasses herself again. "But I suppose everyone feels that way after a crime. All they cared about was the cash and jewels. Hurting me was just what people do." Hearing her words, she hurriedly adds: "I mean--what the criminals did. I wish I could help more, Detective. Do you think... will I have to do a voice identification? Are any of the ones in custody... could they possibly be the criminals?"

Collins hears the last several questions, and Kylah's increasingly uneasy answers. "Detective? I think that may be enough for today." she tells the detective. "Ensign Kylah needs her rest. I promise to call you if she remembers anything else." As she speaks, Jeremi moves to stand between Kylah and Lunnd.

Det. Lunnd doesn't answer Kylah's last two questions, but looks at Collins in surprise. He frowns and says to the Security officer, a little sardonically, "Oh, are we done now? I had understood I would have your, and the witness's, full cooperation. She has not asked to end the interview."

"Of course you have it" Collins states, "But she seems to be overly stressed, and that's counter-productive to her recovery and your interview." She moves closer to whisper to the detective "What if she were your sister, or daughter? Would you have her go through this?" Jeremi is hoping to appeal to Lunnd's compassionate side. She steps back again. "Couldn't we continue this later?"

Graham's not sure why Kylah looks toward him when Rangin's name comes up. He tries to keep his expression neutral and his feelings calm--not necessarily easy when, subsequently, Ky;ah emphasizes that Rangin is not a violent person. After having seen Rangin in action in this same room earlier, he wonders how much of his putative aversion to physical violence is a smokescreen to cover his predilection for psychological abuse and manipulation.

Why he chose Kylah to be the focus of his attention seems all the more clear as she goes on: she's confused, vulnerable...although Graham's not sure how much of that is chicken versus egg. He's convinced their "fight" must have been something Rangin carefully orchestrated to make her that much more vulnerable... What a piece of sh...

He forces himself to stop thinking about that for the time being. Lunnd's questions are clearly upsetting Kylah...as he expects they would, given how concerned she is about her intention to go AWOL being discovered. He can't blame the guy--if it was someone I didn't know I'd ask questions about what seems to be pretty weird behavior...

But there's no crime in being confused and making poor choices - he reminds himself to tell that to her, and perhaps to talk to Lunnd afterward as well. We're talking about a very young officer coming off a difficult mission...

Collins' intervention comes at an opportune time.

Kylah looks appreciatively toward Collins after the security officer comes to her defense, but is worried about increasing Lunnd's suspicions. "No, please," she says, lifting her weak hand toward Collins. "I am grateful, and yes, I am upset, but I do not wish to put this off. I will control myself better. It is a weakness of mine, I know, being irrational and overemotional. I will do better, I promise."

She feels as if she is begging a parent for forgiveness, but she is desperate to regain the detective's favor. "Please, sir, I will do my best to answer anything, if we can get this over with. What can I do? I will look at photos or--or even go to hear them speak--if it will help."

T'Var steps closer to Kylah. "Would you like a mood stabilizer, Ensign?" she asks. "You are obviously upset and this would help if you truly wish to continue with the interview."

Turning slowly to T'Var, Kylah tries to measure the older woman's words. 'If you truly wish to continue with the interview.' Does she mean she will not let Kylah continue without the stabilizer?

Ever since their discussion prior to the OCIII mission--even before that, during the Sakathian battle--Kylah has been all too aware and afraid of the vulnerability she has revealed to T'Var. By confessing the truth about her empathic abilities to the doctor, not to mention how at risk she is of being affected by it, Kylah effectively ceded to T'Var the same sort of control over her that Aldaan has.

Not that the doctor would wield it in the same way: Kylah is sure that T'Var could not be so manipulative or opportunistic. But control is control, and Kylah despairs of having to fear the repercussions of yet another person knowing her secrets.

"Yes," Kylah says slowly, meeting T'Var's eyes as best she can. "If you think that is best, doctor. I wish to continue. Please help me do so."

T'Var administers the medication. "I am certain you will be of more assistance to the detective when you remain calm," she says. "The more information you can provide, the sooner your assailants will be brought to justice."

"Thank you," Kylah murmurs, and touches T'Var's arm as if simply expressing her gratitude. But she directs her thoughts to the Vulcan telepathically.

I will control this, T'Var, I promise. I have tried, I truly have. I will try harder.

Graham's not sure what to do when Kylah doesn't take the "out" offered by Collins--but he's saved from wondering whether he should intervene by T'Var.

And now I feel all the more shitty for disobeying her order earlier. Not that I didn't think I needed to--but why did it have to be her...

Not that T'Var probably pines away at night waiting for either my compliments or apologies, but he reminds himself to revisit both. Although maybe I should also ask for some "mood stabilizers" myself, he wonders...

Lunnd looks evenly at Collins and says, "Then I'll proceed." He asks Kylah:

"Had you been to Anubis before? If so, did anything like this happen to you then?"
"What else did you intend to do on shore leave other than get your zither repaired?"
"Did you speak to anyone from any particular ship in the bar?"
"Do remember the names of anyone you spoke to in the bar or elsewhere?"
"Were you under Starfleet orders to do anything in particular while on the surface?"
"Are you willing to undergo hypnosis or mind meld if the Thoth Constabulary determines it to be necessary in this case?"
"Are you willing to return, in due course, to testify in any subsequent trial in this case?"
"Is there anything else I haven't asked you, Ensign, but which you think it important for me to know?"

Kylah feels the mood stabilizer start to work, but it does not get past her sense that Collins has, somehow, made Lunnd more... hostile. Or impatient. Something has changed. A frisson of anxiety runs through her despite T'Var's medication.

"Had you been to Anubis before? If so, did anything like this happen to you then?"

Her eyes widen. "No. I have been to very few planets in my life, Detective. My own--Elas--and then Troyius, Earth and Anubis." She frowns, knowing she has missed one. Then she flushes. "And--and Omicron Ceti III. But no, I have never been on Anubis before."

"What else did you intend to do on shore leave other than get your zither repaired?"

Ice seems to run through her veins. He knows. He must know. Why... why does it matter? None of it matters. Why is he treating me like this? It takes all of Kylah's will not to turn to Graham for help, or to react in any physical way. She just swallows and says carefully, "I was with Velir to get something to eat, although we... I admit we just had some drinks in the pub. And I went shopping. Shore leave was very brief, there was not time for much else."

There. Strictly the truth. If she had escaped it would have been after her leave was through. "I am not sure what my intentions matter. Is it not what I actually did that matters? And I have already told you my movements. I wish I could be certain where I was transported from, but--but perhaps a transporter trace could be found?" She looks from Collins to Graham, at last able to face Graham with a hopeful expression. But Lunnd's questions continue.

"Did you speak to anyone from any particular ship in the bar?"

Kylah pauses and frowns. Did I? Yes, I did... "I believe I did. I am sorry, it is difficult... There was a woman and a... I do not know what race her companion was--insectoid? I have never seen this particular race before. And I do not remember the name of the ship. I do know I asked for directions to..." A burst of inspiration strikes her, and it allows her again to tell the truth. "To the Starport."

Her elaboration as she continues is, of course, false. "That was where the man--the one who exchanged my credits--told me to go. The musical instrument artisan would meet me there. Oh...I suppose..." She lets her shoulders fall again. Now flush at least fits her needs, and she can return to the truth. "I am so foolish. There was never an artisan at all, was there? It was all a ruse. A horrible ruse. I suppose it did not matter where they told me to go, I would still have been transported away."

"Do remember the names of anyone you spoke to in the bar or elsewhere?"

She shakes her head. "No. No, I am sorry. The--the woman who was ill, I do think her companion used her name, perhaps? But I do not know. The bartender might remember."

"Were you under Starfleet orders to do anything in particular while on the surface?"

Kylah scowls, genuinely confused. "Starfleet orders? I do not understand. Do you mean... did I have some kind of duty or task to perform? If so, then no. We were given shore leave. That was all."

"Are you willing to undergo hypnosis or mind meld if the Thoth Constabulary determines it to be necessary in this case?"

She cannot contain herself. "No," she blurts, and actually pulls herself backward away from Lunnd as if he is about to grab her forehead and perform the meld himself. "No. I will not, I do not wish to. Please--" Kylah turns to T'Var, unable to hide her desperation. "It would not be good for me, would it? The injury... I was concussed, surely...surely it would not be good for me?"

Uncertain if T'Var's logical mind will be of any help, Kylah takes a deep breath. The mood stabilizers seem to steady her somewhat, though it is hardly enough to calm her pounding heart. She looks next to Graham, then Collins. "I am afraid," she whispers. "I do not wish to. Such things are not done in my culture."

"Are you willing to return, in due course, to testify in any subsequent trial in this case?"

Kylah slowly returns to Lunnd. She nods. "I would rather not face them again but... yes. If I were not on a mission, of course, and too far away to make such a trial."

"Is there anything else I haven't asked you, Ensign, but which you think it important for me to know?"

Kylah bows her head in thought, staring at her hands as they clutch her bag. They are blurry again through her glazed eyes; exhaustion and fear and guilt are mingling to create a misery that the medication cannot defeat.

"If you truly want the answer to that," she says softly, "then I wish you to know that you have made me feel like a criminal. As if you think I somehow made up this crime. You have asked me more about my own actions before the attack than anything that happened during. Do you think I faked this? Or that I caused this? I suppose I did--cause it, that is. By being naïve and idiotic and trusting and ignorant and reckless.

"I should not have been alone. I should not have trusted strangers. I should not have upset Velir and made him leave me. Perhaps I should not even be a Starfleet officer, with such flaws." She raises her head, blinking and crushing his handkerchief in her fist. "I thought my punishment was severe enough. I did not realize that on Anubis, it is tradition to both create a wound and salt it."

Kylah turns away from Lunnd and, looking for tissues, finds some and wraps the handkerchief in them. "I am sorry, but I have tainted this, and will have to throw it out. Elasian tears are not to be handled by men. That is the only way I have any power, apparently. I wish I had cried on those men, especially the leader, perhaps then..."

With a little gasp, she suddenly lifts her face to the detective. "There it is. That is the question you have not asked. It is so obvious. The ringleader as much as admitted that he was the man who exchanged my money. And so I did see him, the only one of the attackers I saw without a mask--before the attack, when I was in the basement of the bar. Why did you not ask about him?

"I admit he was not terribly striking in any way," she says quietly. "But I do remember a little. He was a human, with dark hair. It was turning gray, but he was not old. Honestly, I could not guess his age. Perhaps similar to Mr. Graham's?"

Kylah hopes she is not insulting Graham. "Except the stranger was not particularly attractive. He was average, for a human. Taller than I..." She shrugs, knowing that is not helpful. "As I said before, he was businesslike. He carried datapads and a payment device, I do not know the details. This is clearly what he does, quite a lot. Perhaps he has performed such acts before, then, on other tourists."

She leans back. Her body seems to have lost all its strength at once, and she shakes her head wearily. "More than that, I cannot tell you. I hope I did not waste your time. And I hope... I hope you believe me. I did not do this to myself. I did not." Hugging her bag, she rests against the pillow and just stares at the dirty canvas.

Collins can feel her own emotions having their own roller coaster ride. Keep it together, girl. Why is this affecting you? Concentrate. This will be over soon.

Back in the science lab, Rangin relaxes away with a fresh coffee. He wonders if Collins was being frank and honest with her thanks for finding Ensign Kylah, but it really didn't matter any more. She was right on one thing though, if he hadn't been there, Kylah would still probably be stuck in the middle of nowhere.

On a whim, he reconstructs the sensor sweep he had done to find the zither and watches as the computer simulates the resonance of the crystals and he wonders just what it would sound like. Rangin will probably never find out.

Det. Lunnd says, not unkindly, "Thank you for your time, Ensign, and please forgive me for upsetting you. There's no need to be so hard on yourself. Sometimes bad things happen to good people. In any event, these are typical questions, under the circumstances. We rarely have Starfleet visitors get into trouble and I want to be thorough. You're, uh, welcome to keep the handkerchief." He stands and pockets his datapad. "I hope you feel better every day. Thanks again." He turns to Collins. "May I have a word with you outside, please, Lieutenant?"

Rangin can simulate the resonance of the crystals but not how they'd sound in a zither, given the number of variables involved. He knows that there are probably recordings of Elasian zithers in the Library Computer's musical-performance banks.

"Of course," Collins replies to Lunnd. She turns to the others, "Excuse me a moment." She follow Lunnd out the door.

A muttered "thank you" is all Kylah can give to the detective as he and Collins leave. He had better not take her to task. He has no right. She was thinking of me... The fact that Collins spoke up for her and Graham did not is disconcerting, to say the least.

Of course, Graham is the only one who knows she was evading some of the questions. Is he judging her? For lying to one of "his kind"? The realization that the two people who each know tiny portions of the truth are both in the room--and neither seems particularly inclined to sympathy--fills her with despair. It seems the more anyone knows her, the less they like her. Just as with Velir.

She turns her head against the pillow, burying herself as deeply as possible, and squeezes her eyes shut. Her right hand crushing the handkerchief to her cheek. "I appreciate the medication, Dr. T'Var," she says hoarsely. "But I do not know how much it helped. All those strange questions, and the talk of a mind meld... they were too much."

Kylah hesitates, then lifts her face slightly toward Graham. She desperately wants to know what Graham told this man. If he revealed her plans to flee, if he shared his outrageous theory about Velir, would Graham admit it now? How can she ask him, without insulting him? Or without revealing too much in front of T'Var? Of course, she thinks in growing discomfort, her own responses to Lunnd revealed much about her personal feelings for Velir. Far more than she wanted Collins or T'Var to know. Or Graham, for that matter, but that ship has sailed.

"Mr. Graham, I thought suspects had been found. Have they already been released? Is that why Detective Lunnd seemed to treat me like a possible criminal? I felt he was goading me, as if he knew--" She swallows, remembering T'Var's presence. "As if he knew this was all some sham," she finishes quietly.

Graham has to hold back an audible sigh when Lunnd and Collins exit.

He's not sure why the interview was so traumatic--no, I know there are a lot of reasons why Kylah is or could be upset, he concedes.

But Lunnd was being a typical detective--a bit paranoid and prone to probing anything that seemed weird, but not at all being an asshole.

Still thank god this is over...although Kylah has a question for him before he can think of what to say..

He clears his throat and relaxes his parade rest position. "Look, ah..." he keeps his tone reassuring. "Don't worry, no one is blaming you," he replies to Kylah, looking briefly to T'Var for support. He shrugs slightly. "Detectives like Lunnd--they get paid to be paranoid. About everything."

He smiles slightly. "I've known many, in my...long, practically eternal years of experience."

He pauses, awkwardly, then shakes his head and adds with certainty. "Believe me, nobody thinks this was a sham. This was a crime, period. Remember, these guys probably did this before on his home turf, this kind of thing can be personal to us, uh, him. Police and Security."

He doesn't add: he might be worried you won't hold up on the stand, but figures Kyah does not need to hear that at the moment.

Kylah closes her eyes again. "I know you feel a kinship with him," she says quietly. "You are on the side of the law, and I--I am just someone who continually causes you trouble. But I wish you would answer me, even if he could not." She stares at him again. "Are these suspects the likely criminals or not? Please, Mr. Graham. I know I could not remember everything, and there were... gaps... but I told him everything I could." The emphasis must get through to him. "Everything that mattered. Do you think it will help?"

In the Sickbay antechamber, Lunnd exhales heavily and says to Collins, "I'd like to talk to Mr. Rangin, now, if I may?"

Collins nods. "Of course, I'll ask him to meet us in that same conference room." She pulls out her communicator. "Collins to Rangin, Detective Lunnd would like to speak with you. Can you meet us in Conference Room 5 in five minutes? Thank you. Collins out." She taps the communicator pad a few times. "Bridge, this is Lieutenant JG Collins. Detective Lunnd has spoken with Ensign Kylah and we're now heading to Conference Room Five to meet with Ensign Rangin. Collins out."