Lt. Taelon - Red Line District
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Alison Hardwick
Sep 8, 2025, 9:06:38 PM (4 days ago) Sep 8
to USS Gorkon – StarBase 118 Star Trek PBEM RPG
((Upper vIq'mItlh City, veHrom’nagh))
It was Sevo who picked up the broken workstation, bits of its shattered screen falling to the floor with a faint tinkle.
Sevo: ::She looked toward Reynolds as she spoke.:: Klingon computer systems use a crystal-based memory storage similar to isolinear chips because they’re robust, right? The data itself might be salvageable from the computer’s crystal memory.
V'Lar: If the data is recoverable, it is the most logical path of inquiry.
Reynolds: Yes, but... If the storage medium is notoriously robust, wouldn’t the assailants know that as well? If they did all this— ::she gestured at the assorted chaos and carnage:: —to get to the data, it’s strangely slapdash to damage a workstation and just hope you’ve destroyed what you came for.
Taelon followed Quinn’s gestures, considering the scene. Perhaps his standards weren’t realistic, but it had the feel of a frenzied fight rather than a carefully planned assassination.
Taelon: It depends how organized they were, I suppose…?
He turned his attention back to the workstation as Sevo got to work on it.
Sevo: Give us a few minutes, and we should be able to recover it. Let’s link with our devices and we can share processing.
The station was broken in most ways, but its internal components were mostly intact - cracked and shoved out of place, but hardly unworkable. Unknowingly, Taelon echoed Reynold’s thoughts - if they were after the data, they'd not done the best job of getting it, much less hiding their tracks. Not only was the system somewhat recoverable, it couldn’t be argued the story - whatever it was about - hadn’t existed.
Sevo: It looks encrypted, or perhaps it’s just Klingon computer coding. I don’t have the necessary coding packages to read it. Anyone else?
V'Lar: I do possess programming experience but not with Klingon systems.
Reynolds: It’s the code for a Klingon operating system, not encryption. ::She shook her head.:: Looks like someone transferred a series of files onto portable storage, then deleted them from this workstation and the Glob Fly’s servers about fifteen minutes before Pak’argh’s estimated time of death. We might be able to recover some or all of it, but it’ll take time.
Taelon silently cursed he’d switched ARIA’s modules to a more forensic setup, exchanging out one out of its processing units that might have handled the crystal. But there wasn’t much to be done about it now.
Taelon: ARIA’s configuration doesn’t, um, have that capability at the moment….otherwise I might have, um, been able to process it here.
Klingon systems were simple, by Taelon’s standards. A general dislike of intelligentsia among their society held them back, at least in that regard.
V'Lar: Perhaps the crystals should be transported to the Gorkon for proper analysis?
Reynolds: We’ll have to. ::She nodded.:: We won’t be able to recover the deleted data with the tools we have here. Sevo, if you could take care of that.
Sevo: Yes, sir.
The little crystal vanished in that oh-so-familiar whine. Taelon watched it go and kicked himself, then went back to inspecting the room. There were clues about, but like having mostly sky pieces to a puzzle, they didn’t form a bigger picture just yet.
V'Lar: Admiral, whilst we wait for the analysis, I have completed the timeline.
Reynolds: All right, let’s hear it.
V'Lar: The data provides a clear sequence. The initial point of conflict was the central desk in the bullpen. From there, the assailant proceeded to the editor's office, where a second altercation occurred. The final engagement was between the assailant and the deceased female in this room, concluding with the assailant's exit via the far door. Given how far into the bullpen the assailant reached, I would surmise that they employed some means of deceit to gain access, but those means did not hold up to scrutiny.
Reynolds: I think, ::she glanced at Taelon,:: Lieutenant Taelon was right, and they’ve been watching Pak’argh. They chose a time when only their intended victims were present, which is why we only have the three DNA profiles.
Taelon inclined his head in agreement. The timeline made sense to him, and the data backed it up. But, still, there was a feeling in his stomach he didn’t like.
Sevo: They somehow knew they were working late. They wanted little to no witnesses.
V'Lar: Without access to an official database, I am unable to determine their identity; however, sufficient data is available to generate a detailed forensic profile of the assailant. In addition, I have isolated a trace non-biological particulate from the unknown subject's blood trail.
Reynolds: We have access to the official databases, but the Klingons of this colony don’t register every person’s DNA. Only those charged with a crime. So possibly a victim, a first-time criminal, or one who’s never been caught before.
Sevo: What is it?
V'Lar: It is boridium.
Sevo: Oh… ::She let her thoughts trail.::
Taelon: Boridium? That’s not - it’s not very common for Klingons to use it.
Reynolds: Klingons don’t use it much, but Romulans have been known to implant boridium pellets under the skin of their prisoners to keep track of them. Our assailants might not have a history of crime here, but it’s possible they have elsewhere.
Or they were exposed in some other way, Taelon thought. Traces of an element in the blood was, for now, evidence of some kind of contact or exposure, but little else.
Another blue puzzle piece amid a slew of them.
V’Lar: Response
Reynolds: Right. If we put the pieces together, we have this— ::she gestured to the larger room with both hands, unwittingly looking like a steward giving flight safety advice,:: —the assailants first came into conflict with Pak’argh in the bullpen, who then made a break for the editor’s office, and then out into the corridors, into the back alley, through the side street, and into the plaza where he died. My guess is he went for the data he or Krelah had downloaded onto portable storage, and was trying to get it out of the office. We know at least one person followed him out at this point, because we found evidence of a continuing fight in the alley.
Reynolds: While he was trying to get the data out, Krelah fought another assailant with boridium in their system. Possibly trying to stop them from following Pak’argh, possibly because she was a target herself, maybe both. She fell, they thought she was dead, they left, and told their accomplice Pak’argh had the data — which explains the security footage showing one of them taking something from his body. But at all times, they were careful to stay off cameras, choosing locations where there were none, or keeping their faces hidden when there was.
Sevo: That suggests a level of municipal intelligence, along with prior spycraft experience. The average citizen wouldn’t know where every single camera was.
They wouldn’t, Taelon considered, but most of the cameras he’d accessed were old, basic security units, and dodging those wasn’t the most difficult feat. Especially if one stuck to the alleys and avoided the streets the cameras overlooked.
It smelled to him less of incredible spycraft and more of something well planned…until they got to the office, anyway. Whatever had unfolded here had been frenzied, wild, and hardly the cold sort of act he would associate with true professionals.
Taelon: I’m not sure we can say they carefully dodged cameras just yet, sirs. :: He spoke up from where he’d been looking out over the ‘bullpen’, as they were calling it.:: Pak’argh ran into a square overlooked by them, but, um, the alleys and this building aren’t monitored. They might have just been unlucky that he happened to flee towards a monitored area…
That uneasy feeling in his stomach remained.
V’Lar: Response
Reynolds: Following V’Lar’s logic; if they’re aiming to suppress a story, and they’re targeting the people who knew about it, that leaves the investigating journalist. Possibly a fact-checker, too, if the Glob Fly employed one. That’s who we need to find.
Sevo: The editor must have a record of the investigator here somewhere. It could be an employee or a third party.
V’Lar: Response
Sevo: It could be on the memory chips we found. We’d have to wait for the ship to analyse them which could take a while. But it looks like the editor-in-chief was big on physical media. Maybe they kept physical records. :: She gestured around the office to the myriad cabinets and articles on the wall. ::
Taelon: Don’t forget those, either.
He gestured to the lines of desks outside the office. If each belonged to an employee, the workstations and documents in each might yield names and clues, too.
Reynolds / V’Lar: Response
The group broke up to inspect the office and its contents further. Taelon went for the cabinets, carefully opening them to avoid touching the blood splattered up their front. The documents inside were, frankly, shockingly well-organized. He’d long learned to associate ‘Klingon’ and ‘paperwork’ as two very separate concepts. They’d slaughtered their lawyers for a reason.
Sevo: I think I found something. ::She looked closer, scanning the device with her tricorder.:: There’s something attached to the back of this board. I think it's a holoemitter.
Reynolds / V’Lar: Response
Taelon: A holoemitter-?
He’d turned to look when she switched it on, the red lines lighting up the noteboard.
Sevo: Whoa. Jackpot.
He quickly shuffled over to see closer, his height letting him simply lean in over the shorter crew. The web was intricate, full of notes and names and so much more.
Reynolds / V’Lar: Response
The feeling in Taelon’s stomach made itself clearer as he looked at the interconnected lines, the faces outlined in flickering red. The text was in Klingon, and took him a moment to read, but as the lines wrapped around each other…
Taelon: Sirs…this might be, um, incorrect, but the attack here feels more personal than professional. If our suspects are among this web, then they might have simply asked to meet Pak’argh and the editor…
Reynolds / V’Lar / Sevo: Response
Taelon was squinting, reading the board. The lines of Klingon text were small, but each said so much. He pointed to one image, this one of a young Klingon, head ridges only just finalizing their growth. Next to them was a simple label.
Taelon: ‘Ep'ehko, informant.’ ::His finger traced the red line to one of the faces they’d yet to identify, an older Klingon man with visible scarring across his head and neck.:: ‘K'uklud. Dealer. Boss?
Reynolds / V’Lar / Sevo: Response
Taelon: No, I meant - the symbol means she was unsure…Dealer seems more certain.
Reynolds / V’Lar / Sevo: Response
((Had to sim-surgery this with Sevo's post so hopefully it's readable u-u))
Lieutenant Taelon
Science Officer
USS Gorkon
O239303T10
It was Sevo who picked up the broken workstation, bits of its shattered screen falling to the floor with a faint tinkle.
Sevo: ::She looked toward Reynolds as she spoke.:: Klingon computer systems use a crystal-based memory storage similar to isolinear chips because they’re robust, right? The data itself might be salvageable from the computer’s crystal memory.
V'Lar: If the data is recoverable, it is the most logical path of inquiry.
Reynolds: Yes, but... If the storage medium is notoriously robust, wouldn’t the assailants know that as well? If they did all this— ::she gestured at the assorted chaos and carnage:: —to get to the data, it’s strangely slapdash to damage a workstation and just hope you’ve destroyed what you came for.
Taelon followed Quinn’s gestures, considering the scene. Perhaps his standards weren’t realistic, but it had the feel of a frenzied fight rather than a carefully planned assassination.
Taelon: It depends how organized they were, I suppose…?
He turned his attention back to the workstation as Sevo got to work on it.
Sevo: Give us a few minutes, and we should be able to recover it. Let’s link with our devices and we can share processing.
The station was broken in most ways, but its internal components were mostly intact - cracked and shoved out of place, but hardly unworkable. Unknowingly, Taelon echoed Reynold’s thoughts - if they were after the data, they'd not done the best job of getting it, much less hiding their tracks. Not only was the system somewhat recoverable, it couldn’t be argued the story - whatever it was about - hadn’t existed.
Sevo: It looks encrypted, or perhaps it’s just Klingon computer coding. I don’t have the necessary coding packages to read it. Anyone else?
V'Lar: I do possess programming experience but not with Klingon systems.
Reynolds: It’s the code for a Klingon operating system, not encryption. ::She shook her head.:: Looks like someone transferred a series of files onto portable storage, then deleted them from this workstation and the Glob Fly’s servers about fifteen minutes before Pak’argh’s estimated time of death. We might be able to recover some or all of it, but it’ll take time.
Taelon silently cursed he’d switched ARIA’s modules to a more forensic setup, exchanging out one out of its processing units that might have handled the crystal. But there wasn’t much to be done about it now.
Taelon: ARIA’s configuration doesn’t, um, have that capability at the moment….otherwise I might have, um, been able to process it here.
Klingon systems were simple, by Taelon’s standards. A general dislike of intelligentsia among their society held them back, at least in that regard.
V'Lar: Perhaps the crystals should be transported to the Gorkon for proper analysis?
Reynolds: We’ll have to. ::She nodded.:: We won’t be able to recover the deleted data with the tools we have here. Sevo, if you could take care of that.
Sevo: Yes, sir.
The little crystal vanished in that oh-so-familiar whine. Taelon watched it go and kicked himself, then went back to inspecting the room. There were clues about, but like having mostly sky pieces to a puzzle, they didn’t form a bigger picture just yet.
V'Lar: Admiral, whilst we wait for the analysis, I have completed the timeline.
Reynolds: All right, let’s hear it.
V'Lar: The data provides a clear sequence. The initial point of conflict was the central desk in the bullpen. From there, the assailant proceeded to the editor's office, where a second altercation occurred. The final engagement was between the assailant and the deceased female in this room, concluding with the assailant's exit via the far door. Given how far into the bullpen the assailant reached, I would surmise that they employed some means of deceit to gain access, but those means did not hold up to scrutiny.
Reynolds: I think, ::she glanced at Taelon,:: Lieutenant Taelon was right, and they’ve been watching Pak’argh. They chose a time when only their intended victims were present, which is why we only have the three DNA profiles.
Taelon inclined his head in agreement. The timeline made sense to him, and the data backed it up. But, still, there was a feeling in his stomach he didn’t like.
Sevo: They somehow knew they were working late. They wanted little to no witnesses.
V'Lar: Without access to an official database, I am unable to determine their identity; however, sufficient data is available to generate a detailed forensic profile of the assailant. In addition, I have isolated a trace non-biological particulate from the unknown subject's blood trail.
Reynolds: We have access to the official databases, but the Klingons of this colony don’t register every person’s DNA. Only those charged with a crime. So possibly a victim, a first-time criminal, or one who’s never been caught before.
Sevo: What is it?
V'Lar: It is boridium.
Sevo: Oh… ::She let her thoughts trail.::
Taelon: Boridium? That’s not - it’s not very common for Klingons to use it.
Reynolds: Klingons don’t use it much, but Romulans have been known to implant boridium pellets under the skin of their prisoners to keep track of them. Our assailants might not have a history of crime here, but it’s possible they have elsewhere.
Or they were exposed in some other way, Taelon thought. Traces of an element in the blood was, for now, evidence of some kind of contact or exposure, but little else.
Another blue puzzle piece amid a slew of them.
V’Lar: Response
Reynolds: Right. If we put the pieces together, we have this— ::she gestured to the larger room with both hands, unwittingly looking like a steward giving flight safety advice,:: —the assailants first came into conflict with Pak’argh in the bullpen, who then made a break for the editor’s office, and then out into the corridors, into the back alley, through the side street, and into the plaza where he died. My guess is he went for the data he or Krelah had downloaded onto portable storage, and was trying to get it out of the office. We know at least one person followed him out at this point, because we found evidence of a continuing fight in the alley.
Reynolds: While he was trying to get the data out, Krelah fought another assailant with boridium in their system. Possibly trying to stop them from following Pak’argh, possibly because she was a target herself, maybe both. She fell, they thought she was dead, they left, and told their accomplice Pak’argh had the data — which explains the security footage showing one of them taking something from his body. But at all times, they were careful to stay off cameras, choosing locations where there were none, or keeping their faces hidden when there was.
Sevo: That suggests a level of municipal intelligence, along with prior spycraft experience. The average citizen wouldn’t know where every single camera was.
They wouldn’t, Taelon considered, but most of the cameras he’d accessed were old, basic security units, and dodging those wasn’t the most difficult feat. Especially if one stuck to the alleys and avoided the streets the cameras overlooked.
It smelled to him less of incredible spycraft and more of something well planned…until they got to the office, anyway. Whatever had unfolded here had been frenzied, wild, and hardly the cold sort of act he would associate with true professionals.
Taelon: I’m not sure we can say they carefully dodged cameras just yet, sirs. :: He spoke up from where he’d been looking out over the ‘bullpen’, as they were calling it.:: Pak’argh ran into a square overlooked by them, but, um, the alleys and this building aren’t monitored. They might have just been unlucky that he happened to flee towards a monitored area…
That uneasy feeling in his stomach remained.
V’Lar: Response
Reynolds: Following V’Lar’s logic; if they’re aiming to suppress a story, and they’re targeting the people who knew about it, that leaves the investigating journalist. Possibly a fact-checker, too, if the Glob Fly employed one. That’s who we need to find.
Sevo: The editor must have a record of the investigator here somewhere. It could be an employee or a third party.
V’Lar: Response
Sevo: It could be on the memory chips we found. We’d have to wait for the ship to analyse them which could take a while. But it looks like the editor-in-chief was big on physical media. Maybe they kept physical records. :: She gestured around the office to the myriad cabinets and articles on the wall. ::
Taelon: Don’t forget those, either.
He gestured to the lines of desks outside the office. If each belonged to an employee, the workstations and documents in each might yield names and clues, too.
Reynolds / V’Lar: Response
The group broke up to inspect the office and its contents further. Taelon went for the cabinets, carefully opening them to avoid touching the blood splattered up their front. The documents inside were, frankly, shockingly well-organized. He’d long learned to associate ‘Klingon’ and ‘paperwork’ as two very separate concepts. They’d slaughtered their lawyers for a reason.
Sevo: I think I found something. ::She looked closer, scanning the device with her tricorder.:: There’s something attached to the back of this board. I think it's a holoemitter.
Reynolds / V’Lar: Response
Taelon: A holoemitter-?
He’d turned to look when she switched it on, the red lines lighting up the noteboard.
Sevo: Whoa. Jackpot.
He quickly shuffled over to see closer, his height letting him simply lean in over the shorter crew. The web was intricate, full of notes and names and so much more.
Reynolds / V’Lar: Response
The feeling in Taelon’s stomach made itself clearer as he looked at the interconnected lines, the faces outlined in flickering red. The text was in Klingon, and took him a moment to read, but as the lines wrapped around each other…
Taelon: Sirs…this might be, um, incorrect, but the attack here feels more personal than professional. If our suspects are among this web, then they might have simply asked to meet Pak’argh and the editor…
Reynolds / V’Lar / Sevo: Response
Taelon was squinting, reading the board. The lines of Klingon text were small, but each said so much. He pointed to one image, this one of a young Klingon, head ridges only just finalizing their growth. Next to them was a simple label.
Taelon: ‘Ep'ehko, informant.’ ::His finger traced the red line to one of the faces they’d yet to identify, an older Klingon man with visible scarring across his head and neck.:: ‘K'uklud. Dealer. Boss?
Reynolds / V’Lar / Sevo: Response
Taelon: No, I meant - the symbol means she was unsure…Dealer seems more certain.
Reynolds / V’Lar / Sevo: Response
((Had to sim-surgery this with Sevo's post so hopefully it's readable u-u))
Lieutenant Taelon
Science Officer
USS Gorkon
O239303T10
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