[[BACKSIM]] JP: Lt. JG T’Fearne & Lt. JG Evinrude - A Private Investigation [Part 2]
Teayl Thorn
((Ground Transport, En route to Proxima Sigma IV City Center ))
A long silver serpent of transparent aluminium and composite alloy raced forward, floating just above its track, humming with the slightly uneven resonance of a vehicle whose maintenance crew had been stretched thin since the orbital disaster. Its passenger compartment glowed with soft amber lighting from strips along the ceiling, flickering every time streaks of violet lightning from the razor-rainstorm flashed outside. The mag-tram’s aesthetic was disconcertingly familiar to the Soliton Express.
Through the panoramic side panels, Proxima Sigma IV’s alien landscape blurred past in vivid streaks of blue, green and violet foliage, thrashing in the growing wind. Tess found the white noise of the wind, the hum of their transportation, and the low murmur of passengers to be a comforting respite from the half-hour of deafening metal-on-metal cacophony they had endured in the makeshift orbital debris fallout shelter. T’Fearne’s ears were still ringing.
A soft chime announced the next station, and as the mag-tram slowed. The doors parted, and a Saurian woman with copper-red scales, wearing pale blue coveralls, stepped through, wrestling a cumbersome hover-pram down the aisle. She looked to be searching for a seat. The riding capsule of the pram emitted the occasional soft squeak and discordant burble.
Without hesitation, the two incognito Starfleet officers rose simultaneously.
T’Fearne: ::gesturing:: Please, take these.
Evinrude: ::With a self-effacing smile:: I…was going to offer the same thing.
The mother’s grateful smile was all teeth as she maneuvered herself and the pram into the freed seats in the full carriage. She threw back the pram’s canopy, revealing three glossy-eyed hatchlings—two different shades of iridescent green and the third a radiant crimson—all chirping soft, disharmonious peeps.
Riding the transport, standing in the aisle, T’Fearne and Tess looked down at the hatchlings.
T’Fearne: ::tilting her head, warmth in her voice:: Your young are…quite adorable.
The woman murmured something soft and sibilant, which might have been an expression of pride. One hatchling promptly vomited on its sibling, who, unfazed, proceeded to lick its own eyeball with a long, sticky tongue.
Evinrude: ::After one delayed blink.:: And…self-cleaning!
The hatchling stretched its neck up and squeaked, apparently pleased.
T’Fearne’s lips twitched in suppressed amusement as she steadied herself in the aisle. The inertial dampeners seemed inadequate to the task as the mag-tram swayed jerkily as it accelerated again. The scenery outside became a fast-moving dreamscape of colour and rain.
The Human and the Vulcazoid did their best to balance in the aisle, lightly grasping the purpose-built handrails.
T’Fearne let go of the convenient handholds, steadying herself instead, balancing lightly with the sway of the tram. She twisted her pack to the front and unfastened a side compartment, withdrawing a generic PADD. Faint blue light washed over her hands as she brought up a list of data and a schematic, then lit up Tess’s face as she passed the device over to him. He blinked against the light as the tram was thrown into the shadow of dense foliage.
T’Fearne: ::quiet voice:: I’ve consolidated what my landfall team recovered from the terminal building—comms traffic, cargo manifests, and partial personnel logs. Most of it seems legitimate. If there are any connections to Consortium corporations or Emzai’s network, the Grus Betan colonists, I can’t find it.
Responding in kind, Tess ensured the noise of the tram would drown out their conversation.
Evinrude: I won’t lie, Emzai got under my skin. Hinting at connections everywhere… ::He frowned, with clearly more to say.:: From what I read, the soliton transport created quite the chain of logistics. If someone were to co-opt a link in that chain, and go unnoticed…
Flicking her fingers across the PADD, T’Fearne enlarged a list of names. She couldn’t help feeling a spark of worry for Tess, knowing the effect Emzai had on others she had managed to affect.
T’Fearne: Precisely. So what sort of link would be vulnerable? Who could be coerced or bought? These companies received or shipped cargo out of the Terminal and up to the Orbital station and then out on the soliton “road” to Alpha Sigma. I accessed their files last week to verify their authenticity. As far as I can tell, they are all legitimate. Your thoughts?
Tess took a moment to skim the entries. Halfway through reading, he grasped the half of the PADD opposite T’Fearne’s handhold, and the two of them swayed in near-synchronous movements with the train.
Evinrude: They look authentic…metadata’s there, proper weights and measures, destination flags… ::He met her eyes.:: Of course, that can all be faked by someone in-the-know. This name… ::He pointed at an entry.:: A clerk of some sort. He signed off on cargo manifest cycles regularly, but after this one…here…someone else takes over his shift. That seems suspicious.
T’Fearne: I see…Belric is their name? And who replaced him?.
Evinrude: ::Scrolling down slightly, his brow furrowed a little.:: Odd, doesn’t list a name, just an ID number. ::He exhaled thoughtfully, and continued.:: You think it ties back to this Tarek, the missing investigator?
The tram tilted as it banked through a slight turn, the green-purple patch of jungle giving way to a cluster of adobe domes at the edge of the habitat zone. T’Fearne let her center of gravity sway to counter the shift rather than grip the overhead rail again, there had been something sticky up there. She casually rubbed her hand on the back of her slacks, but her dark eyes fixed obsessively on the data glowing between them.
T’Fearne: Yes, I do. Investigator Tarek’s last logged communications mentioned meetings with engineering techs, Saurian individuals who survived the orbital station bombing. ::glancing at the young Saurian mother reflexively:: Then he disappeared. He’s the only person who might’ve had the full picture—and he walked out of his office and vanished in the middle of his investigation into the explosion of the orbital station.
Tess couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.
Evinrude: I can guess the type. Dedicated, workaholic…the kind of person who would try to keep working even in death.
T’Fearne: I don’t believe in ghosts. Nor do I believe in leaving an investigation unfinished. This Chief Investigator didn’t seem like one to abandon his work either.
A faint smile glinted in T’Fearne’s dark eyes. A hunter sighting prey, joy sparking at the chase. Tess noticed. His gaze lingered for a moment, something unspoken showing in his expression. Before any sense, empathic or otherwise, could give away how he was feeling, the gentle turbulence of the tram drew his attention back towards the viewstrip.
Lightning carved a jagged white vein across the darkening indigo sky, illuminating the landscape’s transition from farmlands and habitat domes to the towering silver spires of the city centre. Storm mist wreathed the skyscrapers in cloudy vapour.
Evinrude: So we pick up where he left off.
The tram slowed, and the lights brightened as they neared the city centre. Ahead, a monolithic structure that housed the Federation Investigation & Security Headquarters rose like a blade, its tower beacon pulsing like a heartbeat amid the other tall buildings.
T’Fearne: ::nodding, shouldering her pack:: Next stop is ours.
Several passengers moved towards the doors, crowding the two officers closer together.
Evinrude: Right behind you.
[JP / TBC in Part 3]
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Lieutenant J.G. T'Fearne
Security Officer
USS Ronin - NCC-34523
R240107T14
and
Lieutenant J.G. Tess Evinrude
Operations Officer
USS Ronin
R240111TE1