"So, I'm supposed to figure out who murdered the professor and find the killer...in high heels?"
Kym stood in a large penthouse suite, furnished with lush brown leather sofas and a beautiful bar. Large picture windows filled the south wall of the room, shrouded by cream flowing curtains. She was dressed in a silk white pant suit with a red silk scarf around her neck. On her feet were red patent leather stiletto heels.
"Well, no, you don't have to wear heels." Julian said, straightening his bow tie. His black tuxedo fit him perfectly, but he was at least in flat wing tipped shoes. "You can wear something else."
"Computer," Kym said. "Replace Agent Stone's shoes with 2 inch heel patent leather ankle high boots. Red." The computer complied, replacing the shoes with much more comfortable boots.
"Boots?" Julian asked, walking to the bar and retrieving two glasses from the cabinet, placing them softly on he bar top. Kym walked to the side table beside one of the leather sofas, picked up a compact nine millimeter revolver and bent down to her boot, tucking the pocket sized gun inside the boot perfectly.
"Backup." she said, grinning.
"I think you're already starting to understand the game." Julian casually said, bending to retrieve a bottle of brandy from beneath the bar. "Drink?"
"Drink? You mean a holographic drink? Why even bother? Let's just get right to the mystery." Kym said, moving closer to the rosewood bar and perching herself on a stool. Her nearly elbow-length brown hair drifted around her in loose curls as she sat.
"Patience... you must have patience." Julian said. As he was pouring drinks into the glasses, they heard the door chime.
"That must be our first clue." Julian said as he headed for the door. Clue? Kym thought. Why would a clue ring the door chime?
Julian returned with a piece of paper in his hand. He read the message on the paper out loud.
"This telegram is asking us to investigate the death of the brilliant Professor Frannie Smithe. She was a leading sociologist in the Norwegian Government. The police have ruled her death a suicide, but her daughter thinks otherwise." Julian said.
"How did she die?" Kym asked.
"Gunshot wound to the head. Weapon retrieved on the scene." Julian said. "Looks like this should be interesting."
"Perhaps we should start with the daughter?" Kym suggested. Julian nodded, then straightened his bow tie again.
"Let's go." he said.
Before she knew it, they were standing on the porch of a very large estate home. Dark green ivy climbed a wide concrete pillar to Kym's left. Shards of mulch scattered through the sidewalk as if the gardener hadn't been there in weeks. Julian knocked on the door and a very large woman dressed in a pink apron and yellow dress answered the door. The sun was setting over the horizon, casting a yellow glow on everything the light touched.
"May I help you?" the blonde haired woman said.
"My name is Julian Bashir. This is my associate, Alice Stone. We are here to speak with Miss Smithe. She is expecting us." Julian said. Kym didn't understand why she had to assume the role of a fictitious character when Julian got to be himself. Seemed a little... unfair. The lady in the apron showed Julian and Kym into the parlor, where the rose wallpaper seemed to go on for miles and the pink upholstered wing backed chairs seemed inviting.
"Please have a seat. I will let Miss Smithe know you are here." the lady said before turning and waddling up the stairs. Julian looked at Kym and raised his eyebrows. He slipped his hands in his pockets and remained quiet. Kym could feel her shoulder harness rubbing uncomfortably under her arm where the grip of her gun dug into her rib. She tried to adjust herself without looking too obvious, but was unsuccessful.
Within a few moments, a young lady dressed in a very beautiful blue long sleeved dress floated down the stairs. She gracefully held onto the shiny wooden railing as she took each step quietly and slowly.
"Master Bashir!" the young lady breathed as she reached the bottom of the stairs, holding out her hand. Her face was long and her black hair was swept back into a loose romantic bun. Julian took her hand, leaned down to kiss it, and let it go.
"Miss Smithe?" He inquired.
"Yes, thank you for coming. I appreciate your attention." Miss Smithe said. "Who is your companion?"
"This is Agent Alice Stone. She will be assisting me with the investigation." Julian said. Before Kym had a chance to introduce herself, Miss Smithe burst into obviously fake tears.
"Oh, I am so glad you're helping me! My poor mother! I just know she couldn't have done this! I just know someone else is responsible! I just... I'm so distraught!" Miss Smithe's theatrics included placing the back of her hand across her forehead as Julian retrieved a handkerchief from his interior jacket pocket and handed it to her. He motioned to the other end of the parlor, where three more chairs and a table sat empty.
"Please, let's sit down and talk. Agent Stone and I have a few questions for you." Julian said, placing his hand on the small of her back. Smithe led the way, gracefully floating across the floor and finally turning and landing softly in a chair. She gripped Julian's handkerchief in her hand as she looked up at Julian and Kym.
"I don't really know where to start." Smithe said as Julian and Kym took the seats on either side of Smithe.
"Can you start with why you think your mother was murdered?" Kym said. She was accustomed to taking notes, but she would just have to rely on her own memory and the photographic memory of the doctor.
"Yes. I believe my father did it. He hates my mother, as long as I can remember. He was always jealous of her success. With her dead, he stands to inherit her estate above me." Smithe said. "My father's gun was the murder weapon."
"Can you fill us in on your family's history? Particularly your family's wealth and success?" Kym pressed.
"My mother is - was - an esteemed sociologist. Her parents were independently wealthy stock brokers. My great-grandfather was an architect. We come from a long line of brilliant minds. My father... he was... a bit of an outcast. He married my mother when they were young and when I was born, he left us." She said, her lip quivering. "My mother never wrote him out of her will. He stands to inherit half of her estate."
"Why didn't your mother write him out of the will when he left?" Kym asked.
"Mother always hoped that he would come back. She never gave up hope. She loved him, but only God knows why." Smithe said. She dabbed her eye with Juilan's handkerchief and sighed. "I just know that he had something to do with this."
Before Kym had a chance to ask any more questions, she got a sudden twisting feeling in her stomach and a strong feeling of premonition. She stood out of her chair and looked at Julian, who looked at her quixotically.
"Computer, freeze program." Kym said.
"What's wro-" Julian said, but interrupted by the comm system.
"Opps to Commander Rzepka." Kym heard over the speaker in the holosuite.
"Rzepka here. What is it, Ensign?" she said, getting very nervous.
"You have a message incoming from Starfleet command, sir." Ensign ch'Thane said over the comm.
"What priority?" she said.
"No priority, sir. It's Admiral Addison."
"Thank you, Ensign, I'll take it in Holosuite 1."
"Computer, doors." Kym said. As the doors appeared, Kym walked to the comm panel beside them. She flipped on the screen, Admiral Addison's face was twisted in a scowl.
"Commander, did I catch you at a poor time?" Addison said, a strong look of concern on her face.
"No, sir. Not at all." she said. Julian stood and ambled closer to Kym, curious as to what was going on.
"I won't keep you long. Commander, I'm calling to inform you of new developments. Another murder. I have already sent the report to your secure line." she said. Kym's breath caught in her throat and she felt the twisting getting tighter in her stomach. Another murder. They were coming more frequently than Kym could keep up with.
"Thank you, sir. I will look at it and forward my analysis to you." Kym said. Her knees felt weak and she felt her stomach doing flips.
"Let me know if you need anything. Let's conference at 0800 tomorrow morning." Addison said. Kym nodded.
"We will speak then. Thank you." Kym turned off the monitor and leaned her hand on the doorframe. Julian approached, a strong feeling of concern washed over him.
"Are you okay?" Julian said softly. Kym turned to him, feeling her temper starting to flare up for an unknown reason.
"No," she said. "No, I'm not. My friends, my counterparts, are dying and I have no idea why." Kym sat absently in the pink wing backed chair near the door. Julian sat in the other one, his gaze fixed on her black eyes. "My temper was short with Vaughn today. I was insubordinate. I was so angry because - " Kym stopped herself. She didn't want to sound crazy again to Julian. She didn't want him to know that she was having hallucinations in addition to the dreams.
"Why were you angry?" Julian pressed, intent on what Kym had to say. He was being nothing more than a good listener and Kym trusted him not to react irrationally. She lifted her gaze to meet his, surveying his face for a sign of doubt. Nothing.
"Julian, I had a premonition about the call I just received. I had another premonition about the next murder this afternoon. It was more like a hallucination. During my meeting with Commander Vaughn. It felt so real." Kym started. "I tried to explain to Vaughn the significance of the dreams, and the premonitions, but he only doubted me. He wants hard evidence and it's not going to happen. I get a sense of discontent with the case from him. It's like he doesn't share my vested interest in solving it. He doesn't... care... as much as I do."
"This must be unnerving for you. It would be for me." Julian said. "Are you sure you're having premonitions about the murders, or are you so wrapped up with little sleep that your mind is playing tricks on you?"
"I don't know," Kym admitted. "I have been sleeping fine, but you're right. I've been consumed by this investigation. Addison suggested pulling me off the case this morning - I think I'm seeing her point. But I can't. I just can't walk away now."
"Why did she suggest pulling you off the case?" Julian asked, confused. Kym felt her palms getting sweaty and her heart beating faster in her chest.
"My partner was killed yesterday." Kym said. Julian noticed Kym's nervousness and decided they should call it a night. He stood out of his chair.
"Let's continue our program another time." he suggested. Kym nodded and stood, still deep in thought about the investigation that existed outside of the current fantasy.
"Computer, save and end program," Julian called as the entire scenery disappeared, returning the two officers to their Starfleet uniforms. Kym turned to the door and walked out, Julian following closely behind. They walked together a few meters out into Quark's bar, where only a handful of customers remained. It was late - close to 0200. The bar was about to close.
"I need to get to bed. I have a meeting in six hours." Kym said, turning to Julian. "Thank you for listening. We'll solve the mystery later." Julian smiled and nodded.
"Let me know if you need anything." he said. Kym nodded and headed out the doors of the bar as Juilan sat to talk to Quark.
She walked slowly, her security team directly behind her, back to her quarters. She sensed a flash of nervousness out of one of the guards, soon realizing that he thought he saw something out of the corner of his eyes. Almost instinctively, she started looking around, to see if she noticed anything out of the ordinary. The corridor was quiet, only a few passing officers here and there. Nothing notable .Perhaps my mind is playing tricks on me, she thought.
Back in her quarters, Kym sat in silence, still studying the compound. Tryscopotherol, she discovered, was also once used as a capital punishment drug - given a high enough dosage, it could be vaporized through a gas chamber, killing several people at once. Many different species used it as their drug of choice several years ago - many even a hundred years ago. The farther she dug into the classified Starfleet data base, the more she found.
She didn't stop reading until she found something that burned an image in her mind. The compound was used to murder any outsider who ever stepped foot on the planet Tholia. Back at least a hundred years ago, the compound was mined in the depths of a remote mountain range on the planet, which was surrounded by burning hot lava. The compound was then taken and sold on the black market, including to Starfleet, before it became illegal there.
The compound had been used to murder outsiders since - as a symbolic death of anyone trying to meddle in Tholian business or disrupt Tholian affairs. The drug was injected to unsuspecting people in their sleep, finding themselves dead within a few hours.
This particular piece of information caught Kym's eye. She knew that Starfleet Intelligence had information on the slipstream technology that the Typhon Pact as putting together - in fact, reports had recently come out about another illegal ship building yard being built by the Breen. Could the Tholians really be behind these murders?
But that doesn't explain the other murders. Why wouldn't they use the same method for each murder?
She looked back at the previous murders again, hoping to find something that she missed before.
The first murder was aboard the Gryphon. An operative was working on the sensor logs on one of the runabouts when the bay depressurized, suddenly, sending him flying out into space. Upon investigation, no evidence of foul play was found, but later a correlation was found between the runabout's aft sensor log. When it was activated, it triggered the bay doors to open.
Curious, Kym retrieved the logs from the runabout with the problematic sensor log. It was on an away mission three weeks prior to the accident to the Alpha quadrant near the Klingon border. They encountered an unidentified ship that fired an energy weapon, but it sustained no damage. The runabout retreated and returned to Gryphon. No investigation was ever conducted.
Kym felt her heart rate pick up. Tholia was near the Klingon border. What if that unidentified ship was a Tholian vessel, which fired a sabotage energy signature to the runabout? Is this possible?
She knew there was only one place to find out. Quickly, at that.
"Computer," she said to the blank screen at her desk. "What time is it in San Francisco?"
"1535 hours." the computer responded.
"Put a priority one secure channel message to Master Chief Miles O'Brien, Starfleet Academy, San Francisco." The computer complied and Kym straightened her black collar and her pips while she waited. Within a few moments, Miles O'Brien appeared on the screen, smiling.
"Rzepka! This is a surprise! How are you?!"
"I'm doing great, Chief. I'm looking for some help, is this a good time to talk?" Kym said, smiling back. It was good to see her old boss again.
"It is a good time. I just dismissed my class. I have to say, it's strange seeing you in a new color. Especially that one." O'Brien said. Kym laughed.
"Sometimes, I scare myself in the mirror, sir. I understand." She said, letting her smile fade. "I have to ask you something strange, but I can't tell you why I need to know. Are you comfortable sharing information under these conditions?"
"I suppose. I trust you, so why not. Ask away." O'Brien responded. Kym double checked the security of the call, then proceeded.
"I need to know if it is possible to embed a launch sequence modulator or a command modulator into an external energy weapon." Kym said. "I also need to know if that modulator can be remotely activated by a command control panel."
O'Brien raised his eyebrows. He thought for a moment.
"I believe it is possible. I remember reading about a Maquis ship that modified it's tractor beam to include the coordinates of their outpost and transferred it to another ship when the beam was fired. It is possible to embed anything within an energy weapon. It would take quite a bit of expertise of the ship systems, but it is possible." O'Brien thought more about the subject. "If the engineer was looking to sabotage, he or she would imbed the weapon with a computer directional sequence to plant the command inside the computer's systems. It's not terribly hard for an experienced hacker."
"What kind of knowledge would I need to conduct a test of this theory? Would I need to know the target ship's systems, or could I program the weapon to scan for certain panel locations, just picking a random position for activation?" Kym asked. She could see O'Brien becoming very uncomfortable.
"You're not planning to try this, are you?" He asked.
"Chief, I can't tell you anything more than what I'm asking. But please, trust that I'm not doing anything stupid." Kym smiled at him with her sweet, melt him in your hand smile.
"Of course you're not. Of course. No. You don't need to know the ship's systems to target a remote command. You could enter a modulating frequency in a command sequence, and it will embed itself into the computer's system where it fits. It would be impossible for you to determine exactly where, but if that doesn't matter, then it will work." The chief explained. The attacker must have known that the operative would investigate the runabout after it returned to the ship.
"What civilizations are capable of this type of technology? Do you know?" Kym asked.
"Sure. Federation, Romulans, maybe Breen. Possibly Cardiassans." O'Brien said.
"Klingons?" Kym said hesitantly She remembered that the attack took place near the Klingon border.
"No, probably not. Not unless they had help." O'Brien said. He was struggling to keep his questions quiet as Kym asked hers.
"Tholian?" Kym asked slowly.
"Certianly not. Tholian technology is far less advanced than our own." O'Brien said.
"Chief, this is all very helpful. I appreciate your help. Tell me, how are Keiko and the kids?" Kym said, letting the smile overtake her face again.
"They are great! Molly is in fifth grade now, Yoshi is in first. They are doing really great." O'Brien said. "And you're welcome. I hope it did help. Give me a call back if you need anything else."
"I will," said Kym. "And Chief? This conversation never happened."
He nodded and signed off.
It's possible. Is it probable? Kym didn't know. Since O'Brien listed two members of the Typhon Pact in his estimation of players who could pull off this type of maneuver, she placed more concentration on the Romulans than before. The Romulan Star Empire was very angry with the Federation and had been for several years, but the Imperial Order was an ally. Why would the Romulans be near the Klingon border, in the Alpha quadrant? And Federation sensors would have been able to detect the Romulan ship. The one that fired was unable to be identified, even the crew aboard was unidentifiable.
Kym hadn't thought about the Breen before now. It's possible that they were involved, but it wasn't like their nature to target one person at a time. If they were to attack Starfleet Intelligence, they would target a conference, the headquarters, or a ship. They would go for a large-scale murder, opposed to picking and choosing specific targets.
All of this left her nearly back to square one. She may have figured out how the ship's bay doors opened, but she couldn't prove it. Not without a simulation. She would have to collaborate with Gryphon's engineer, and she didn't have time for such nonsense.
"Computer, time." she said, realizing that she'd probably been studying for a few hours.
"The time is 0600 hours."
Kym lay her forehead on the edge of her desk. Two hours left until the conference with Addison. She decided that she should probably get Vaughn involved with the meeting and was sure that he was awake by now. She lifted her head and touched her comm badge.
"Rzepka to Commander Vaughn." she said.
"Vaughn here." she heard.
"Commander, can you meet me in the Vault at 0800 hours? We have a conference call." She said dryly. She was still feeling slightly annoyed with the commander.
"Will do. See you then." he said, signing off the comm link. It seemed that he was still annoyed too.
Exhausted, Kym dragged herself out of her chair and to the replicator. She ordered a cup of coffee and a blueberry scone.
No time for sleeping now, she thought to herself as she sat at her secure comm. She activated the secure file on the last murder, temporarily ignoring Jonathan Meadows' file.
The latest murder happened on Vulcan. The operative was seated at his desk when a phase energy weapon of unknown origin was fired through the north window and struck him in the back of the head, killing him instantly. His partner found him when he didn't show up for a meeting.
The operative's latest project notes were blank. Figures, thought Kym. No one knows how to keep accurate records anymore.
She became curious about what Meadows was working on at the time he was killed. She thumbed through the information provided on Meadows' murder, but the portion on current assignments was left blank. She flipped through the other operatives' files. Only one other operative had any kind of job description - herself. Where were the job descriptions?
She continued to look for any kind of indication of work assignments and realized that each operative had been on administrative assignment. Current assignment was always blank. She was very concerned by the lack of information.
Well, she thought to herself. At least they have something in common now.