Death: This Time, It's personal

Posted on Tue 18th Oct, 2022 @ 5:32pm by Arik Telsamvi & Makila i'Hartelhai & Renato Solis & Lieutenant JG Kellian Michaels
Edited on on Tue 18th Oct, 2022 @ 5:32pm

1,602 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: The Hunted
Location: Brown Sector Deeps
Timeline: MD 5, 0700

Lieutenant Muffet Langston finished fitting the breathing filter over the last of the nostrils on her abdothorax, behind her legs. People often mistook form for function -- just because Muffet had a humanoid torso, they thought she must also have humanoid organs in it. This was, however, a mistake -- the nostrils on her face supplied air to her vocal chords, and nothing else; most of her breathing needs were attended to by the rather large quad-lobate lungs in her bustle. And, though the Human-pattern face mask she wore fit and functioned, it also blocked the view from most of her secondary eyes. "All right," she said rather curtly, "I'm ready to enter when you are."

Kellian shone a flashlight about the inside of the room and took a detailed tricorder reading. He switched on his voice recorder. "Scene appears to be a bedroom measuring 3 meters by 2.4 meters by 3 meters, containing one body. Body appears female, possibly late twenties to early thirties," he muttered to himself under his breath. "I estimate the person died no fewer than 10 days ago, given that the skeleton has collapsed inside the skin. Scan shows it's as intact as I would expect for a body in this stage of decomp, just lying prone on the bed." He shifted to an ultraviolet light spectrum and played the light about the sad, dingy little room again before switching back to normal light. "No visible blood spatter. Everything else under the sun, but no blood. Mainly just a lot of perspiration and putrefaction fluids. No projectile casings or beam weapon marks. I don't detect a ligature around the neck, and the cervical vertebrae appear intact, per scan." He deactivated the recorder and turned to look at Muffet. "It's very difficult to determine if this is even a crime scene at all. I know what it looks like to me, but what do you make of it?"

It was usual for a crime scene team to discuss the scene first, so the team could decide which pieces of evidence they should look for and collect, and which were likely more trivial to the incident.

"I think it's a stretch to call that a bed," Muffet answered. She opened a case on her utility belt, and tossed four anti-grav drones into the air. One would track each of her hand-feet, one her own line of sight, and one that would oppose the third, keeping as much of her torso in the frame as possible. "It's more of a pallet of..." she used a long pair of forceps to lift the edges of the material, "packing fill, cargo blankets, and clothing." She looked over the corpus. "The movement comes from sub-cutaneous fungal cilia, and I note bioluminescence. I make no judgement about origin of fungal contamination, but I strongly advise antifungals for anyone who entered this space." She turned to regard the Romulan doctor and terrified teenager with her. "Strongly," she repeated.

Renato was listening over Kellian’s feed. Fear of a telepathic entity was particularly strong to his species. Their strengths in infiltrating the deepest recesses of minds left a gaping vulnerability to counter intrusion. Much of what Forensics team said was over his head, a lack of Academic training leaving him behind again. He listened anyway, remembering each word for later study. The lack of restraints was perhaps a sign of paralysis induced by a fungal infection, or worse, telepathically induced coma.

The lack of evidence towards foul play did suggest a darker end for this poor girl. Renato pored over the missing persons reports from the last few weeks, isolating by the measurements Kellian provided, finding far too many for his liking. It was possible many of them simply left without saying goodbye, which made this job far too like the proverbial needle amongst the hay.

"I don't even want to think about how large the fungal cilia must be to cause movement like that," Kellian said to Muffet as something undulated under the corpse's skin and flashed faintly green for an instant. He made a video recording of the phenomenon with his tricorder. "So, do you think Dr. Addams will thank us for bringing her a wonderful gift, or throw us out of her infirmary and tell us to never come back after she receives this?"

"Have you met Doctor Addams?" Muffet asked rhetorically. "We'll be her new best friends. As to whether or not this is a crime scene, I'd ask, why is this person in an advanced state of fungal colonization while..." she moved her right fore-foot closer to the pallet on which the corpse rested, preparing to lift some of the material further, when the floor gave way under her weight. Fortunately, most of her mass still rested on her other five feet, and she drew back rapidly, staring stupidly at the hatch and the darkness below which had just swollowed the corpse and its bedding without a sound. "Bother," she muttered.

Kellian lunged forward to try and stop Muffet from falling but stepped back when he saw that she had moved away from the hole's edge. "Well, that's different," he muttered, gazing at the...hole? Trap door? He stomped twice on the deck plating and listened to the sound. "Definitely a hollow space, not just under the pallet."

He measured the space with his tricorder. "3 x 3 x 3.5 meters," he said. Kellian crouched closer to the edge of the opening and shone his flashlight in.
Abruptly, he made a gagging noise and scrambled back against a wall. He swallowed several times and then looked back at Muffet. "Sorry. Wasn't expecting that. Our body isn't the only one down there."

Makila's eyes dilated as she felt the comfort of the cool air wash over someone's face. That took away the burning heat of something else, and her hand involuntarily went to her chest. "Um Kellian...One of them is still alive."

"Yeah, that's it," Muffet said, recalling her mapping drones with a gesture. In her head, she cursed the mask she was wearing, and the way it blocked the vision of her extended-wavelength eyes. "It's a crime scene. Also? We need to call Captain Sharpe and her anti-social kindergartners, now." She turned to regard Kellian's girlfriend. "I know you believe someone's alive, but killing first responders by baiting them with survivors fits 'Bad Guy 101,' just like the oubliette here."

"No, I know someone is alive." Makila said sharply, not really wanting to extend her senses further. "I'm a hybrid, Betazoid and Romulan. My telepathic abilities are not what a full-blooded Betazoid would be mostly due to a lack of training on my part, but they are present. There is someone alive down there. The opening of the door brought a breath of cool air over them. There was no malice, just relief from the pain of breathing that muck."

Kellian grimaced at the thought of someone still being alive enough in that space to feel relief from cool air. He moved back to the edge of the hole and crouched beside it. "Hello, down there? I'm Lt. Michaels. We're going to get you out. Can you tell me your name or move any part of your body? I'm going to shine the light down there again. I'm sorry it's bright, but I need to be able to see you so we can get you out."

"I don't care what kind of mumbo-jumbo you've got going on, lady," Muffet answered. "Traps are often automated, so even woo-peddlers can't 'feel' the intent behind them. You didn't notice the oubliette before it opened." She paused. "Why am I having this argument with a civilian contaminating my crime scene?" She tapped her commbadge, calling, "Langston to Medical dispatch. I need site-to-site transport for two individuals potentially exposed to extreme and exotic fungal infection. Institute immediate level one quarantine. Individuals are suspects; hold them incommunicado until further notice."

As the annular confinement beam formed around the Romulan doctor and the teenager, Muffet tapped her commbadge again. "Langston to Marine dispatch. I need four raiders in full armor at my current location to deal with biological warfare agents."

"Roger, Station Security," Marine Dispatch responded. "ETA Five minutes for units equipped for bio warfare."

Finally, Muffet turned to Kellian. "Go ahead. We have a few minutes, so get it out of your system now so you can be objective."

Kellian had been listening carefully for a response from the living person in the trap and so hadn't paid attention to what else was going on around him. It was just a lot of words that made no sense and the sound of a transporter beam. At last, he heard a very faint rustle and darted his flashlight beam toward it. He didn't see movement, but he did see skin that wasn't mottled with putrefaction, underneath less savory remains. He took a tricorder reading and rolled his eyes at the results. It was picking up all sorts of life. Kellian sighed and reconfigured the scan. "There you are," he said. "Oh, cripes, you're a little one, aren't you?"

The abrupt cessation of nonsense chatter finally got his attention. Kellian turned his head to see just himself and Muffet in the small bedroom. "Why did you beam the kid and Makila out? She's a doctor; she'd have been helpful here. And what is it that you want me to get out of my system?" It was actually good to have the pair of them out of the crime scene, he thought, so they could get immediate anti-fungal treatment and not disturb the evidence.

 

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