Scrambling the Troops

Posted on Tue Jun 23rd, 2020 @ 5:26am by Cailus Griffin
Edited on on Fri Jul 10th, 2020 @ 5:31pm

Mission: Death in Paradise
Location: Deck 17 - Security Division
Timeline: Current

Deck 17, where the security and tactical officers of the Pandora dwelled, was usually a quiet place. Even during CQB practice in the main room, on a mat inside the horseshoe of decks, there was rarely shouting or much noise. Chatter was constant, but rarely loud. In that, the department had come to mimic its boss, who was typically a quiet and unassuming man. Rumours occasionally speculated that the Chief, as Cailus Griffin was called, was so completely like a Vulcan that he was literally incapable of being angry or perturbed, only raising his voice when needed during battle or training. Given that the man was perfectly capable of cutting people off at the knees with just a displeased look and a few words, nobody wanted to see what he was capable of when he really got pissed off.

Today was the day they found out.

"All hands, listen up!" boomed the Chief as he exited the turbolift, striding into the main room, where a dozen yellow-shirts turned to look at him in shock. The Chief stopped in the middle of the horseshoe of decks, looking around at his people with a furious glare. "A few hours ago, there was a murder on the station and evidence suggests that it was someone on this crew. We have twenty four hours to identify this individual, which means that from this moment forth, we will be devoting everything we have to this investigation. All liberty on the station is hereby cancelled. Everyone not on working shifts will be devoted to this investigation full time. All drills and training are cancelled until this investigation is concluded. Do you all understand?"

They all answered as one, remembering the endless drills of their Academy days: "Sir, yes sir!"

It was all very military, all very strict, and not at all like the relaxed (but still professional) working environment that Starfleet usually offered, that they had enjoyed over the past year of serving on the Pandora. However, the demanding anger in the Chief's voice made it clear that for the next day, things would be different.

"T'Kemi," the Chief barked, fixing his glare on the brunette Vulcan, "I want that starboard bulkhead turned into an investigation board immediately. Get all our forensic gear out of the cargo bay and set up a temporary forensic lab in the holographic firing range. Co-ordinate with Lieutenant Brennan's department to see if she has anyone who can help. Yugrid, co-ordinate with Lieutenant Sandoval, Lieutenant Parrino and Ensign Larose to ensure that all our people are brought back aboard immediately and do a full crew count. Don't rely on the computer. Get people out on deck and check manually. Report any discrepancies immediately. Everyone else, get ready for a long day."

At that the Sec/Tac officers got to work, everyone scattering in a sudden upsurge of noise as if the ship had just gone to red alert. There were things to be done, and the angry urgency of the Chief was like a shot to the arm. As everyone hurried about, however, the brunette Vulcan, T'Kemi, approached the Chief with the wariness of one approaching a wild tiger.

"Sir?" she said carefully as she neared, before looking briefly confused at the suddenly mild look he returned her. That indignant rage in the man's blue eyes seemed to have vanished, replaced by his usual cold dispassionate reserve. T'Kemi's eyebrows shot up, confused upon realising that the Chief had been faking his anger, but she wouldn't be distracted. "Sir, what happens if the murderer is one of us? Will they be handed over to the station?"

The Chief's eyes revealed nothing, but there was a certain worry in his tone. "That is for our superiors to answer, Ensign. I don't envy them the task." He paused, frowning. "You were on duty last night, correct? Night shift on the Bridge?" At T'Kemi's answering nod, the Chief continued, "I need to report to a meeting. Right now, get a list of everyone who was on the station last night from 2100 onwards. Screen it for senior officers immediately and get that information to me in the next ten minutes. Once you're done, screen it for our people and exclude any potential suspects from the investigation, then get to work on everything else. Clear?"

T'Kemi, nodded again, her Vulcan mask showing no sign of how she felt about her orders. "Yes sir," she replied curtly.

Cailus hesitated for a moment longer, considering the young Vulcan, before promptly turning around and heading back to the turbolift. It was all a damned mess. He'd have much preferred Larose to handle setting things up but the bright young woman was now seconded to Sandoval's department, leaving the somewhat less qualified T'Kemi in her place. A small irritation, but it didn't help Cailus' mood any. His earlier anger might have been feigned, a way of pushing his people to work harder, but there was a very real undercurrent of concern beneath it. The entire situation was a powder keg on a twenty four hour countdown, with the lives of four hundred people hanging in the balance if Paradise Station wasn't satisfied with the results of the investigation.

"Damn it," Cailus cursed under his breath as the turbolift doors closed, cutting him off from the newly hectic and loud Securiy Division. "Bridge."