Vice Admiral Quinn Reynolds - Pieces of the Puzzle (Part I)
Quinn Reynolds
((Upper vIq'mItlh City, veHrom’nagh))
Quinn swept her torch across the dark room. The air was thick and metallic, cloying like syrup in her lungs. The more she looked, the more she could see the order in the chaos — how that desk had tipped over after the spray of blood over there, someone stumbled backward after a grievous wound. But the combatants were still faceless, the parts they played unknown.
Walls cut off one corner, its large windows looking out into the rest of the space. The kind of place a leader might surveil their troops from. Glass glittered on the ground around, and it seemed like the office might have been a focal point in the fight.
Reynolds: This looks like the editor-in-chief’s office. Maybe there’s something in there?
V'Lar: ::Her gaze shifted to the corner office.:: A private office would be a probable focal point for any targeted altercation.
Sevo: I’m detecting decaying trace particles consistent with Klingon disruptors as we near. It’s possible the editor-in-chief had a personal disruptor in his office for defense.
V'Lar: I would suggest ARIA prioritises scanning that location to allow us to conduct a more manual sweep without risking the integrity of the scan data. ::Nodding in the direction of the office:: Given the size of the space, a scan should take a matter of seconds.
Taelon: Um, aye, sir.
This time, ARIA didn’t vocalise its assent and simply floated in through the office’s broken windows. Its blue beam swept across the catastrophe inside, yet more blood glistening as the scan passed over.
Sevo: I’d say this was definitely the end-point of the attack.
Quinn frowned in thought, swinging her torch toward the office and then toward the opposite end of the room, where the corridors to the back street began. Both Pak'argh and the woman had made their way through the bloodbath in the room, out into the corridors, and then to the door. It was a long way to go when injured and apparently the subject of murderous intent. But if Pak’argh had got out first, that implied there had been some kind of distraction or circumstance which allowed him to do so.
They approached the office, while V’Lar’s attention remained on her tricorder, scanning and analysing the blood data. It was a hinged set-up, rather than the sliding doors of so many Federation architectural designs, and the upper hinge had bent and ripped out of the wall.
V'Lar: It will take a moment to analyse the data, however, my preliminary findings suggest three distinct Klingon genetic profiles within the office within the timeframe of the altercation. One of which matches the deceased female.
Taelon: ::He looked toward V’Lar.:: Pak'argh’s DNA, too. I’ll, um, send you his sequence…
Sevo: Perhaps the woman was the editor-in-chief. We have scans of her blood already, I’ll see which spots match her blood. We may be able to determine a rough course of battle.
Reynolds: Let’s find out.
She dug out her PADD, pulling up the local information for the Glob Fly. Most publications didn’t hide who their authors were, and she imagined the same was true, even for a satirical one. A quick search later, and she had a list of the senior staff and journalists, complete with pictures. A familiar face stared back at her, eyes full of challenge. And life. Quinn’s lips thinned for just a moment, and then she spoke.
Reynolds: Krelah. ::She raised her eyebrows.:: She’s the editor-in-chief, all right.
V'Lar: If we were able to obtain the genetic profiles of the staff employed at this location then it would aid our efforts to build a comprehensive picture of the interactions in this area.
Reynolds: So we have three profiles: Pak’argh, and Krelah, and either another victim of the attack we haven’t found, or an assailant.
Sevo: It’s a shame there are no cameras here.
While V’Lar continued her razor-sharp focus on her tricorder, Quinn made a small sound of agreement. It would certainly make their lives easier, but there were none and there was no use dwelling on it. ARIA completed its scans and returned to Taelon, using its headlamp to illuminate the corner office. Inside, the indentations on the carpet showed the desk was back from its usual position, PADDS and knickknacks tossed to the floor. Underneath was the desk’s chair, knocked over. Cabinets lined the walls, and she wondered what they stored—it had to be something physical they couldn’t store digitally.
Curiously, there was another chair by the shattered windows, this one with blood smeared on the legs. Her first thought was that it had been used to smash the windows, but most of the glass was on the outside, crunching under their feet as they approached. Perhaps the damage to the windows was incidental, rather than purposeful, as the fight played out inside.
Taelon: …If I had to guess, which, um, I do, the stabbing started in the next room…?
Sevo: It makes sense the attacker or attackers entered through the main entrance and…um…worked their way through the bullpen to the editor’s office. It looks like they used a chair to break through the window, since the door was locked. Perhaps the employees in the bullpen were trying to delay the attackers and defend the editor.
V'Lar: Speculation on the sequence is unnecessary. The data will provide the answer. ::She paused, and then—:: Your hypotheses do appear to be supported by the currently available data... incomplete as it is.
Reynolds: I’m not sure there were other employees here; we only have three DNA profiles — two of which were our victims — and no reports of anything untoward happening here. I think this happened when the office was mostly empty.
Taelon: ::He looked toward Sevo.:: Perhaps you might have been right, Commander, that the Glob Fly published something incriminating. Or knew something they shouldn’t have…
Sevo: If anyone would have known such information, it would have been the editor. Maybe they didn’t even get around to publishing yet. Maybe someone got wind of the compiling story and tried to stop the publishing.
V’Lar: Motive is not within my purview, however, if the motive was to suppress information, the individual with primary access to that information would be the primary target.
Reynolds: Maybe that’s what Krelah meant when she was talking about the circle closing. They’re trying to eliminate everyone with knowledge of what they wanted to publish. Which means the investigating journalist would be another target.
Taelon: Aye, that — oh…!
Words dissolved in a sound of curiosity, and Taelon squatted down beside the desk while everyone else turned to see what had caught his attention. Half-hidden by the overturned desk chair was a computer terminal, well-used, but its screen cracked and broken. A coincidental casualty, or a deliberate action?
Sevo: This looks deliberate. I wonder if her computer was the only one with the story’s data. So that begs the question, did the attacker destroy the computer, or the editor?
V'Lar: Whilst we can only speculate at this junction, the primary purpose of a publication is to circulate rather than suppress information. There are likely to be few reasons why the editor would choose to destroy information in their possession. In this, increasingly hypothetical scenario, it would be statistically more likely that the data was targeted by the assailant.
TBC
Commanding Officer
USS Gorkon
T238401QR0