Autopsy Findings

Posted on 08/08/2020 @ 9:02pm by Captain Cian D'Anvers
Edited on on 08/08/2020 @ 9:43pm

Mission: S2E1: The Skunil Incident
Location: O'Hamlin's Office, Sick Bay
Timeline: Day 39 at 1145

It had taken less time than expected to autopsy the bodies, mostly because the causes of death were obvious. Some had injuries to the arms and hands, some did not. Some showed evidence of injuries all over the body and some displayed only a death wound. And yet, Chet was flumoxed.

After all, there was no sign of who had killed them.

And now, he sat in his office, putting the finishing touches on his report before taking it to the captain.

Lieutenant Jodon Joral was sitting by himself in the Mess Hall thinking deeply as he laid his arms across the table and sat there with his chin resting upon his arms staring at the bowl. Its contents looked as simplistic as could be, a bunch of offwhite and creamy colored grains that had been soaked and heated and placed into milk. Of course, none of that had actually been done by him nor anyone else. The replicator did all the work. J.J. found himself starring at it more than actually eating it, though he did take a few spoonfuls of the porridge.

He was thinking about Skunil about what could have happened down there and what had happened to all those people, especially the bodies that had been recovered. They did not end up in a mass grave by their own doing. Someone had placed them there, perhaps the same someone that killed them...if they were murdered. That was still an unknown to him. There were a lot of unknowns and J.J. was waiting for the Chief Medical Officer's report to be finalized. What will the cause of death be he wondered. Did it have to do with the mining disasters noted in the journal? Did it have to do with the contaminated drinking water or the faulty water treatment system? He sighed and continued to watch the porridge. It looked bland and it did not taste much better than it looked. Whoever programmed that recipe into the database clearly had the palate of a corpse.

No sooner had this thought occurred to him than his com-babe chirped. =/\=Doctor O’Hamlin to Commander D’Anvers and Lieutenant Joral,=/\= came the voice of the ship’s CMO. =/\=I am ready with my report. Can I see you in Sick Bay, please?=/\= He did not state the subject of the report, trusting that the Captain and the XO would know which report he meant. It wouldn’t do for others to overhear that he had been performing several autopsies; it would cause a mass panic. Oh, sure, a person is smart, but people are dumb, dangerous, panicky animals and Chet didn’t want to start them on their way.

"On my way," Cian said. He gestured for the watch officer to take his place and as he rose added, "I"ll be down in Sickbay." Reports would start filtering in soon. Not soon enough for him but soon enough. There was some chatter he had gleaned from recent intel reports that was of interest though nothing specific; he was saved from another round of speculation by his arrival in Sickbay. He entered and looked around for the doctor.

“Morning, boss,” said Chet as he approached the Captain. “How are things on the bridge?”

"Busy," Cian said. "But the admiral hasn't been calling for updates so, that's something at least." He drew breath to continue and paused as he caught the blur of movement that was his first officer.

Lieutenant Joral had rounded a corner when he caught sight of the Captain entering through the Sickbay doors. J.J. hurried himself in a short burst of a jog and entered on the Captain's trail. "Captain. Doctor," the First Officer said with a pleasant nod. "I was just sitting in the mess hall staring at a bowl of porridge pondering what happened down on Skunil. So, please tell me we have some answers."

"Several, but I'm afraid I still don't have an answer for the major question of who," replied Chet. "Step into my office and I'll show you what we've found."

"Please do," Cian said and, together with the first officer, he followed the doctor into his office.

Once all three were in his office, Chet pulled up the first holo image, which was a collage of arms. "Macabre, I know, but it's easier if I can show you," Chet explained. "What we have here are several injuries along the forearms- cuts, bruises, some of the arms are broken. This is indicative of a fight. In hand to hand combat, when you've been struck down, the first instinct is to protect the head." He demonstrated by lifting his arms above his head as if to protect himself from an attack. "Which causes injury to the arms. The second instinct is to push the attacker away, causing injury to the hands, especially the palms. These men died fighting. This tells us that there was some sort of battle."

Cian nodded as he looked. "Can you determine the type of weapon that was used?"

"That's the part that's really strange," answered Chet. "It appears to have been done with blades. You know, swords, knives, daggers, etcetera. Which leads us to believe that they were either primitive or hiding their identities. As if using their real weapons would give away who did this. That doesn't make a lot of sense though, because by hiding it, they're narrowing down who would have done it. Still, a primitive society would be obvious to us. In short, we can't rule anything out."

"And with sufficient skill to take on the adult population of the settlement," Cian said. "It is this true of all the remains, doctor? Or just some?"

“Just these ones,” replied Chet, switching to the second holoimage- another collage, this one not only of arms, but of legs, torsos, and heads as well. He zoomed in on one head. “If you can get past the decomposition, you can see here several blunt force indentations,” he said, and switched to another image, a leg. “They’re covered in cute, bruises, scrapes, broken bones. In short,” he said grimly, switching back to the collage,” they were beaten to death.”

J.J. as a scientist was quick to come in and present some countering. "It is peculiar that whatever happened down there seemed to happen in a manner conducive of hand-to-hand combat or melee weaponry," the First Officer began; "Though I think we need to be careful as you said, Doctor, not to rule anything out prematurely" he added. The First Officer then began to present some information of his own. "I am not a cultural expert by any means nor am I that adroit when it comes to weapons; however, just because a civilization uses means of melee to engage an enemy, does not necessarily mean primitive. Look at the Klingons for example. If you get them into close quarter combat, a bat'leth, mek'leth, or even d'k tahg will be brandished. Similarly, some Orions have been known to use very ceremonial bladed weapons. The Ligonians are a bit more primitive and their culture is built upon hand-to-hand combat. Xenexians are also known to wield bladed weapons" he added looking at the Captain.

"There is a certain degree of savagery, isn't there? Agreed that many civilizations, my own included, use what might be considered primitive weapons in close combat. On my world, it was considered honorable to fight within reach of your own death," Cian said. "Were there any bodies found that couldn't be accounted for in the settlement records?"

"We couldn't match up all the people with names just yet, but we're working on it," answered Chet. "Dental records, you know. But, we didn't notice anything unusual about any of them. That is, they were all from species that belonged to the colony." He clicked to the next holoimage. "There's more, though, and this is why we think they are either primitive or hiding their real weapons. I hate to make you look closely, but it's much easier to see here." and He zoomed in on the neck of the man in the image- which was cut completely through. "You see here, how the wound is jagged?" he asked, indicating the severed head. "This odd jagged pattern indicates an inexpertly sharpened blade. Almost as if they don't really know how to make one. Or are hiding the fact that they do. Whichever. Anyway, the last group is all like this- executed. No other wounds, just the execution mark. But, now that you've noticed the jagged marks," he said, switching back to the first image, "you can see it on the smaller wounds as well. Granted, the actual forensic pathologist noticed it right away, but I couldn't see it until I spotted it in the larger scale."

Contained and controlled, Cian kept a neutral expression as he viewed the horrific manner in which these individuals had died. To do his job, they had to be pieces to a puzzle, grisly pieces certainly, but pieces. To do his job, he had to stow away the sadness and the horror he felt looking at these people, imagining the way they had died, the fear they had felt. Whoever did this, they don't want to be associated with the elimination of an entire colony. Unless we find a clue, they might just succeed. That can't happen. "How many in all," he asked quietly.

"That's barbarism," replied J.J. He had seen a lot, his symbiont's previous host more do, but there was a line and it was crossed. "Those people deserve justice, Captain" said the First Officer looking at Cian.

Questions popped into his mind and were easily dismissed. His first officer was stating the obvious; to Cian, who gathered facts and made his decisions based on clear information, there was something even more obvious. "First," he said, "as his gaze met J.J.'s own, "we have to identify who killed these people. Then, we see to justice." He returned his attention to the ship's chief medical officer. "How many in all," he asked again.

Chet’s face darkened. “Two hundred and thirty-one,” he replied darkly.

The number of dead settlers felt like a physical blow as he nodded. "I'll need ... a copy of your findings and ... once you're finished with the autopsies, speak with Lieutenant Nachtgeist about coordinating a burial detail. They should be interred on the world they tried to build."

Having anticipated the request, Chet held out a PADD holding the findings to each of them. "I agree, sir," he said grimly.

Cian took the PADD in hand and with it the weight of 231 lives cut short for as yet unknown reasons. "Thank you, Doctor," he said quietly, his accent just a shade more pronounced as it was when his feelings ran closer to the surface, "I'll be in my Ready Room."

J.J. nodded "Likewise, thank you, Doctor," the First Officer said. The situation was unsettling. "Lieutenant Lae'Or or any other Bajorans aboard may be helpful in determining what the prudent course of burial proper is for the Bajoran victims. Different sects of Bajora faith have the smallest of differences, but caring this out with finesse would go along way with the prophets, at least I believe that is how a Bajoran would look at it" J.J. added.

"I'm certain they would be pleased we made an effort," agreed Chet. "Leave it to me, I'll get it sorted." And he would, too. It didn't matter how gruesome the task was, it was important to make sure the dead were properly respected. With a sigh, he returned to his office to do some research.

A Post by:

Commander Cian D'Anvers
Commanding Officer
USS Crazy Horse

Lieutenant Jodon Joral
Executive Officer
USS Crazy Horse

and

Dr. Chester "Chet" O'Hamlin
Chief Medical Officer
USS Crazy Horse