POST MORTEM

Posted on Jun 05, 2014 @ 7:34am by Captain Michael Turlogh Kane
Edited on on Jun 05, 2014 @ 7:34am

Mission: All Our Yesterdays

"POST MORTEM"

(Continued from "Warning. Last Chance To Be A Hero..."

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"What a magnificent body. How I should like to see it on the dissecting table!"
- Ivan Turgenev, "Fathers And Sons"

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Captain's Log, Supplemental - Our away teams on the CENTURY have already begun reporting in. Major Thytos' marines have secured the ship, and operations are underway to restore power to the engines and activate the main computer. However, several corpses have been found aboard, including one of a Starfleet Admiral...

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Location: USS DISCOVERY, orbiting K-60-Alpha-Twelve
Stardate: [2.14]0601.0645
Scene: Bridge


Despite the turbulence affecting the ship, Michael Turlogh Kane had not left the DISCOVERY's bridge since the away teams had beamed over to the CENTURY some hours ago. He had spent much of his time on his feet, stalking around the command deck, reading the streams of information that were coming in from ship's sensors and away team tricorder data.

Grudgingly, he admitted to himself that the marines had done a fine job in seizing the ship. With the bridge, Engineering, and computer core access all secured, the away teams were free to work without interruption. And now, the fruits of their labours were to be seen in every gig of data transfer from their tricorders. The CENTURY's systems were badly degraded, but they were salvageable. It would take time, but eventually her memory banks would be accessed, and ten years of intelligence on the Neo-Essentialists would be theirs.

The sooner the better, though. Caught in the gravity wells from the gas giant and the moon, constant light turbulence was starting to affect the DISCOVERY's crew. Kane didn't envy anyone trying to sleep through it - they probably had to turn off the gravity in their quarters and sleep in zero-g if they had any hope of catching some shut-eye.

[[Transporter room to bridge. Transport complete.]]

[[Confirmed, Captain,]] came Bonnie Reardon's voice. [[We have him. Give us about ten minutes and we'll begin the autopsy.]]

"Will it be possible to observe, Doctor?" asked Kane hopefully. Speculation was rife that the body of the admiral found on the CENTURY's bridge was none other than Edmund Dupree. If that was so, a red line could be drawn through the name of one of the biggest villains in the Federation since Khan Noonien Singh.

[[Of course, Captain.]]

"I'll be right down." Kane stood up and turned for the turbolift. "Mister Byte, you're with me. Lieutenant Calvari, you have the bridge."

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Scene: Turbolift


"Sickbay."

Kane put his hands behind his back and looked straight ahead as the turbolift hummed into life. Beside him, Byte stood silently. The android put its hands behind its back and stood looking straight ahead.

Normally, the movement of the turbolifts between decks was almost imperceptible to anyone riding in them. A slight dip in one's stomach was about the worst of it. Now, wracked by turbulence, travelling between decks required a certain amount of concentration and co-ordination in case one was caught off-balance. Although certainly not dangerous, the turbulence was starting to grate.

He swallowed hard and looked at the deck plate, wondering what it meant if Edmund Dupree was dead. Did that mean that the Neo-Essentialists were defeated and gone? Kane had never heard of them beyond their one successful hijack of the then-Federation flagship. Dupree was the mastermind behind the Harbinger genetic project but he had dropped out of sight years ago. And there were a million questions as to how and why the CENTURY, a ship he knew as well as his own heart, had ended up out here.

Beside him, Byte looked down at the deckplate as the turbolift made its way down between the decks. Sickbay was only five decks below the bridge, so this ride should take less than thirty seconds. Kane sighed as another jolt of turbulence rocked the ship.

Beside him, Byte sighed.

Kane turned his head to look at the android. As he did so, Byte turned its own head to look back at him. It was creepy as hell. "Mister Byte," said Kane dangerously, "what are you doing?"

{{Doing, Captain?}}

"Yes, doing, Mister Byte. You're standing in the same position I am. You were looking at your own feet a moment ago, and just now, you drew a breath when I did."

{{I do not breathe, Captain.}}

"I know you don't!" said Kane with exasperation. His eyes narrowed. "Were you copying what I was doing?"

{{No, sir.}}

"Good." Kane turned back to face the turbolift door. Sickbay had never seemed farther away.

{{I was mimicking you.}}

"Hold turbolift!" Kane turned around to face the android again as the turbolift halted. "Alright. Explain yourself, Lieutenant. Why are you mimicking me?"

Byte's face assumed a confused air. It seemed to be looking inside itself. {{I did not mean to cause offence, Captain. I was merely attempting to replicate how Humans behave when they are lost in their own thoughts.}}

Kane felt like he was going mad. "Byte, why on earth would you want to replicate that?"

{{It is a human characteristic that I do not share,}} said Byte. It looked almost mournful. {{I was made in the image of Humans, but the more I interact with them, the more I realise that there is much about the Human personality that I do not share. When I was off duty yesterday I found myself examining my own features in a mirror. I noted a lack of character in my facial features. By observing my shipmates, I am hoping to replicate some common Human expressions, that I might have more... character.}}

Despite himself, Kane smiled. He put his hands behind his back again. "Why don't you just be yourself?"

Byte considered the question for a moment. Finally, it spoke. It was frowning. {{Because I have no self. Everything I am capable of is limited by my programming.}}

"Resume turbolift." Another light jolt of turbulence. "You know, Byte, you're closer to a Human than you think."

{{Captain?}}

Kane nodded. "Oh yes. Humans are limited by their programming too. I will never be taller, or stronger, or faster than my genetically-determined maximum. Physically, you are the superior life-form. While it might be true that the limits of Human consciousness and ability to learn have not yet been reached, your positronic matrix is capable of more data storage and calculations per second than the ship's main computer. There too, you may well be the superior life-form."

{{I did not consider it from that point of view.}}

"Tell me something, Mister Byte. Do you think?"

The android shook its head. {{Sir?}}

"It's a simple question. Can you, metaphorically speaking, sense your own thoughts?"

{{I observe the events that are currently in progress and construct numerous possibilities as to how they might resolve themselves. Then I determine the best way to react to each of those resolutions.}}

"Do you do that for all the events that affect your own daily life?"

{{Of course, Captain. I am constantly doing it.}}

Kane smiled as the turbolift finally slowed. "Sounds to me like your sense of self is doing just fine, Mister Byte."

The android looked a child that had just been praised. {{Thank you, Captain.}}

Together, they stepped out into sickbay.

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Scene: Sickbay


When Kane and Byte entered sickbay proper, Dr. Reardon, her male Vulcan assistant Ensign S'Tanu, and Solomon Arn were already there. They had closed off the sickbay laboratory, standing around a biobed upon which lay the corpse. A shimmering forcefield separated them from the rest of sickbay, and the ceiling sensor unit had been lowered down over the naked cadaver.

Kane nodded at Bonnie and Solomon. "Why the forcefield?'

"This is a long-dead corpse, Captain," smiled Solomon. "Believe me, it doesn't smell all that good in here."

"Ah." Kane and Byte approached the other side of the forcefield. The body was not pleasant to look upon. The skin was shrivelled and pulled taut across the bones, and had a strange blue tinge to it. Its fingers were curled up like the legs of a dead spider, and the mouth was open as if gasping for breath. "Begin when ready, Doctor."

Bonnie closed the sensor cluster over the trunk of the corpse. "Activate sterile field."

S'Tanu keyed the instructions into the control panel on the sensor unit. A forcefield flashed into existence for a split second before disappearing.

As Solomon activated his tricorder, Bonnie did a final systems check. Satisfied, the autopsy began. "Begin external examination, please."

The sensor unit lights sparkled and a series of scans ran up and down the cadaver. Bonnie began narrating the results. "Post mortem examination of subject began at fifteen-thirty hours, this stardate. Subject is a Human male, six feet one inch tall, weighing one hundred and three pounds. Hair grey, eyes blue. No visible distinguishing marks. Subjects epidermal layer shows signs of gas buildup, possible ebullism."

"I concur," said Solomon, reading his tricorder.

"What's an ebullism?" whispered Kane to Byte.

{{An ebullism is the formation of gas bubbles in bodily fluids due to reduced environmental pressure,}} said the android. {{Notice how Doctor Reardon is examining the cadaver's eyes. Minute bubbles will be visible if an ebullism is present.}}

Bonnie stood up. "Visual inspection of subject's eyes and mouth membranes confirms diagnosis. Proceeding with internal examination."

The sensor unit activated again. On the screen, a layered picture of the cadaver's internal organs appeared, superimposed with nervous, lymphatic, and blood systems. In the past, the pathologist or medical examiner conducting the autopsy would have had to physically view the internal organs of the corpse, by making a long incision down the trunk, then using a shear to snap the sternum and spread open the ribs. Thanks to advances in medical sensor technology, there was no longer any need for an invasive procedure.

"Multiple pulmonary and cerebral edemas present," continued Bonnie. "Hypoxia to vital organs likely cause of death. Lung alveoli show one hundred per cent ruptures. Eardrums perforated. Subject shows all signs of death by barotrauma." She looked at Solomon. "Do you concur?"

The Trill nodded. "Yes, Doctor."

Bonnie nodded. "Computer, cross-reference medical scans with Starfleet personnel database."

[[Working. Match found.]]

"Identify."

[[Medical scans match patient records for Starfleet Admiral Edmund Dupree.]]

There it was then. Kane nodded at Bonnie. "Thank you, Doctor. You may terminate the autopsy." He turned to Byte. "The leader of the Neo-Essentialists is dead."

{{Yes, sir.}}

The forcefield came down. While S'Tanu worked on the cadaver in the background, Bonnie and Solomon came forward. "Well done, Doctor," said Kane. "Now that you have a medical cause of death, what could have happened to him?"

It's clear cut, Captain," said Solomon. "Admiral Dupree's injuries are the classic signs of rapid atmospheric decompression aboard a starship."

"It's called barotrauma," explained Bonnie.

"Have we any idea when this happened?" asked Kane.

"Several years at least," said Bonnie. "Accessing the CENTURY's computer will give us a more definite idea, but there's too much cellular degradation right now to be specific. Hazarding a guess, I'd say around ten years ago."

Kane frowned. "So the CENTURY's internal atmosphere failed?"

{{Not just failed,}} said Byte. {{Future autopsies will confirm this, but I strongly doubt that there was a simple systems failure aboard the CENTURY. She shows no exterior signs of being in combat - no phaser burns or torpedo hits on her hull. Her superstructure is intact, yet everyone aboard died suddenly of rapd atmospheric decompression.}}

"Hypothesis?"

{{The CENTURY's atmosphere was vented, Captain.}}

Kane shook his head. "You must be wrong, Lieutenant. If the CENTURY's crew died from this kind of rapid decompression, then you're suggesting that the internal atmosphere was vented within seconds. Surely there are computer safeguards to stop that happening - forcefields, bulkheads, that sort of thing."

{{There are, Captain.}}

"I'm afraid that Lieutenant Byte is correct," said Solomon.

Kane looked at the three of them. They had all obviously come to the same conclusion. He shivered involuntarily. Everyone aboard the CENTURY had died an awful death. When the atmosphere was vented and the vacuum rushed in, their natural response would have been to hold their breath. But that was the worst thing you could do in that situation - the CO2 levels in your blood would rise so rapidly that you'd faint after a few seconds. You'd stay conscious a lot longer by attempting to breathe, but it was incredibly difficult to overcome your body's blaring five-alarm response to an external threat. Dupree must have been on the bridge when it happened. He must have been clawing at his own throat, grasping for air so hard that his fingers curled up. When he passed out, death from oxygen starvation was already on its way to take him.

What had caused something like that from happening? If the computer had safeguards built in to stop it, then they hadn't worked. But that meant -

He looked at them. "Are you three telling me - "

{{Yes, Captain,}} said Byte. {{The CENTURY was sabotaged.}}

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NRPG: Moving things along a wee bit. Nine years ago, did someone overrode the CENTURY's main computer safeguards and vent the atmosphere, killing everyone aboard?

Jake and Stonn are working on the CENTURY's bridge. Jake is attempting to re-activate an Exopod he found.

Kass and Cindy are in CENTURY's Engineering.


Jerome mcKee
the Soul of Captain Michael Turlogh Kane
Commanding Officer
USS DISCOVERY


"He speaks an infinite deal of nothing!"
- Shakespeare's "The Merchant of Venice", Act 1, Sceen 1.117

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