Trigger Warning: This chapter contains very mild gore and descriptions of a corpse.
Day 5
Autopsy Log: Audio Transcript
Attending Physician: Emergency Medical Hologram
Stardate: 54729.8
I will be performing a cursory autopsy on the body discovered in the morgue just moments ago. I'm beginning with a preliminary external exam, aided by a tricorder.
Deceased appears to be a dark-skinned Vulcan male, approximately ninety to one-hundred ten years old. He is dressed in a standard issue, yellow Starfleet uniform with rank signifying that he was a lieutenant commander. At first glance, his physical attributes render him nearly identical to our Mr. Tuvok. It is… disturbing, to say the least.
Liver temperature is ambient. Rigor mortis has faded, and bloating and putrefaction have begun, indicating time of death to be 36 to 42 hours before the body was put in stasis.
While I continue to wait for the captain to join me, I'm going to move on to an inspection of the injuries. Victim presents with a perimortem burn to his left shoulder consistent with a phaser or other energy weapon set to a very high level, perhaps to kill.
Victim's face has been marred. There is significant trauma to the nose and right eye socket. Tricorder is registering broken nasal, lacrimal, maxillary, and zygomatic bones, as well as a hairline fracture in the left mandible. There is a deep laceration to the left cheek. Minimal bruising indicates that he was killed very shortly after these were received.
I do not intend to move the body until the captain joins me; however, the tricorder is registering a massive wound consistent with a blow to the back of the head. Hm… There's a puncture wound of some kind in the occipital region. Hard to say more without moving the corpse.
My initial findings point to the cause of death as blunt force trauma to the head. There is a significant amount of blood soaked into the upper portion of the deceased's uniform, however there is not –
Ah, Captain. Glad you could finally join me.
You said you had something urgent – Oh… oh my.
It's Lieutenant Tuvok, at least at first glance.
I can see that. But I happen to know that Tuvok is on the bridge, so would you care to tell me how he is also here?
I'm afraid I can't just yet. I found him not twenty minutes ago.
You just found him here? Like this?
Yes. I walked back for a reagent and there he was.
Computer. When did the body of Lieutenant Tuvok appear in the morgue?
~Lieutenant Tuvok is on the bridge. Please restate the question. ~
Computer. Run a bioscan, include living and deceased individuals. Who is in the morgue?
~Captain Janeway and Lieutenant Tuvok are in the morgue. ~
Okay. Computer, when did Lieutenant Tuvok enter the morgue?
~Insufficient information to respond. Lieutenant Tuvok is on the bridge. ~
It's too early for this. Alright, run every test you can think of to confirm his… the body's identity. I'll postpone the staff meeting by an hour. Get Tuvok – or whoever is on my bridge that looks like Tuvok – down here and check him out, too.
Yes, Captain.
Oh, I left the log running. Computer, pause recording.
Sir attends the senior staff meeting every day at the same time. Today, however, the meeting is held an hour later than usual. He is disturbed by the fact that he doesn't know the reason for the delay.
Upon entering the briefing room, his attention is immediately drawn to the captain. She is standing, hands planted on the surface of the elongated table, and from the shape of her lips he knows that something is very wrong.
Once everyone is settled, she begins. "First and foremost, we have a bit of a mystery to solve." She takes a seat and he watches the way her fingers lace together, then she looks to the hollow-Doctor.
"I discovered the body of Mr. Tuvok in the morgue early this morning," he says.
"Ok, I'll bite." Paris leans in. "Tuvok's right here. Unless…" he side-eyes the stoic one who appears unfazed.
"This is our Tuvok," the Doctor finishes, mildly annoyed. "I found a different one in the morgue this morning."
"Could the body be a clone? Or an imposter of some kind? 8472, maybe?" says Mr. Kim, alert and eager.
"He's not 8472," the Doctor replies. "But until I'm able to run a more in-depth set of scans, I won't know exactly what he is."
"How did he get here?" Kim is full of questions.
"Internal sensors didn't detect anything out of the ordinary," informs the captain. "But I'm hoping that B'Elanna and Seven will come up with some way to determine why he's here now."
The one with child scratches her head absently, but remains silent. Sir notices, though he doesn't say anything. Instead, he glances to the captain and she speaks for him.
"B'Elanna?"
"Yes?"
"You look like you have something on your mind," she encourages.
"I'm not exactly sure…" says B'Elanna. "The other day I removed a damaged power module in engineering. When I dropped it in my office, I noticed that there was another one in the corner. I was a little worried that we had a systemic issue, but otherwise I didn't pay it much mind."
"And now?" Sir asks. He is intrigued more than concerned.
"This morning, when the meeting was delayed, I decided to check them both out, see how they failed. That's when I noticed that they were the same module. Same serial number, same exact failure, and none of my people know where it came from."
Paris leans in toward B'Elanna, care and affection in his eyes. "And now you're thinking that those two modules and the two Tuvoks could be related?"
"It's possible," she shrugs. "I just figured that someone at the shipyards made a mistake and reused the serial number. But, maybe not."
The captain nods, her brow tightly knit. Her every movement attracts Sir's attention. "Ask again," she says. "Be one-hundred percent sure that none of your staff removed it. Have them check every other module and all the spares. Then take them both apart with a fine-toothed comb and see what you can learn." She turns her attention to the rest of her staff. "Until we can unravel a bit more of this mystery, I want all of you and your officers to keep your eyes and ears open for other strange happenings onboard. I don't care how insignificant something seems; if it sounds odd, I want to know."
The room responds with a chorus of "Yes, Ma'am's."
"Dismissed."
Sir remains behind. He has something else to report but wants to do so in private.
"Another day, another adventure, eh Chakotay?" the captain asks him, her tone more casual than it has been. Just the sound of her voice speaking his name evokes a physical response within him, one that he quickly tamps down.
"Actually, I was just thinking about something I overheard in the mess hall this morning."
"Oh?"
He taps his combadge. "Chakotay to Ayala."
'Ayala here.'
"Mike, please come to the senior briefing room. And bring the object you found yesterday"
'You want me to bring the picture?'
"Yes. And grab Chell on your way."
'Alright, Boss.'
Sir looks to his captain. A smile forms across his lips.
"You're going to get a kick out of this one."
Only the face of the deceased is visible, the rest is covered in a grey sheet. For this, Sir is grateful.
"This is indeed Tuvok," the Doctor says. "But he's experienced a little bit more excitement than the Tuvok on the bridge."
"Care to elaborate?" the captain asks.
Sir's stomach churns at the sight of the body, ruined and lifeless. He has seen death like this, brutal and senseless, too many times before. He believes the morgue feels colder than other places, something to do with ghosts and spirits. It takes a moment before he can push the macabre things aside, locking them away again to focus on the mystery at hand.
"This Tuvok is genetically the same as ours," the Doctor says. "Aside from the external injuries sustained just before death, Tuvok displays all of the same physical attributes I would expect to find in our chief. He has a fully-healed break in his left fibula, another in the third metacarpal of his left hand, and several areas of residual scar tissue from where I removed Borg implants last year, to name a few."
"All of those things could have happened to a Tuvok from an alternate universe," the captain says. Have you checked –"
"His quantum signature? Yes. It's identical. This Tuvok is our Tuvok. With a few extra battle scars and a healthy dose of chroniton radiation, that is."
"Chroniton radiation?" Sir's eyes dart back to the captain. She's rubbing her forehead; he knows that she –
"I hate temporal anomalies…" she mutters, confirming his thought.
"He has another identifying feature," the Doctor informs. "One which, up until now, I was keeping in confidence. In light of the situation, Mr. Tuvok – the living – has granted me permission to share this with both of you."
A computer screen blinks to life. Sir struggles to make sense of the set of brain scans before him.
"Our Tuvok is suffering from a rare, degenerative neurological condition. We've known about it for a few months now. I am treating him, and his ability to perform his duties is not yet in question, however, in time..."
The captain's expression grows even more pained as they are left to draw their own conclusions. This news has come as an unwelcome surprise and Sir shares her concern for their friend, but the lingering questions remain.
"I'm divulging this information because our guest suffered from the same affliction," the Doctor continues. He enhances a section of the second brain on the viewscreen. "However, the damage done by the disease has advanced ever-so-slightly. If I had to calculate based on the rate of progression we've seen so far, I'd say that the deceased is approximately one to three months older than the one upstairs."
"Older?" Sir questions.
"So, this Tuvok is from our future…" the captain realizes aloud.
"It looks that way, though I'm a Doctor, not a temporal physicist. But I'll add two other pieces to the mystery. This Tuvok suffered a broken bone which was left untreated. A broken toe, to be exact. It has been left to heal on its own, so I can conclude that the injury was sustained approximately two weeks before his death."
"Why wouldn't he have been treated?" the captain asks.
"He may not have even known it happened. Vulcans have an unusually high tolerance for pain; it could have been nothing more than a nuisance."
"Mystery on top of mystery," she sighs.
Sir fights the urge to put a hand on her shoulder as her gaze rests upon the body of her fallen friend. "You said there was something else?" he asks.
"Ah, yes. It might not bear mentioning, but in the interest of vetting all details…" The Doctor moves a hand to each side of the deceased's head. "Excuse me, Mr. Tuvok," he says softly before turning the cranium to the side.
"I discovered two very small puncture wounds just below the occipital bone, right here at the base of the skull. To the untrained eye they appear superficial. But in actuality they're akin to incisions. They extend through the foramen magnum and into the cerebellum."
"Someone… pierced his brain?" the captain asks. "Why?"
"It would appear so, and I have no idea."
Sir's stomach knots.
"Keep investigating," the captain says, rubbing her forehead. "Let me know what you find."
Sir follows her down-turned gaze as she observes a fleeting moment of silence. Then, as he escorts her from Sickbay, he kneads at the back of his neck and curses the headache brewing there.
