"Post Mortem"

[Avery Tynte 0]

"Post Mortem"

Tynte & Naara

SD 20604.18

 

Avery walked along the path next of the main street, the dim glow from the street lights overhead casting an eerie glow on everything in sight. He walked in silence, studying a PADD in his left hand. The green-skinned one walked behind him, reading over his shoulder.

 

"Where exactly are we going again, Avery?" Naara smiled, resisting the urge to pounce upon him as soon as they were out of the away team's field of view.

 

Avery nodded down the way towards a large, unassuming, building. "The Prolita Sector Morgue," he stated matter-of-factly.

 

She stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes widening. "M...m...morgue? You mean where they put dead people?" Grabbing onto his arm, she started to sniffle. "I... can't ... do it!"

 

"Naara, you're an adult..." He looked down at her. " ... as difficult as I find it to admit that sometimes. Pull yourself together." He rolled his eyes. "The dead do no harm."

 

Staring straight ahead, she shuddered. "Aye... Sir. But in my religion, the dead potentially walk among us. The Moderates of Life-Evil still possess their souls in their bodies. They will never rest. And when an evil one comes their way, they'll catch him or her and suck the life-force right out of him!" She quoted from the ancient texts of Taraallan (Orion).

 

"Lovely." He resumed his pace towards the building. "But for sake of the current situation, I think it is safe to assume the bodies in this morgue will remain inert mass."

 

The Orion quietly tiptoed towards the door, jumping back slightly as it opened. Leaning forward, she peered inside. "I see no corpses in the main entry. But still, Avery, you go first."

 

He sighed. Orions... He walked through the main archway of the forward door and proceeded down a dank passageway with the skittish Orion in tow.

 

The passageway opened into a small room as the two reached the end. Avery looked around the room and laid eyes on what appeared to be the receptionist.

 

The half asleep receptionist.

 

"Excuse me," the doctor said.

 

The receptionist remained motionless; his breathing heavy. "Excuse me," Avery repeated, this time at a tone that echoed along the metal walls.

 

Naara shuddered. "His life has been taken by a spirit!" she gasped.

 

Avery looked at the Orion as the receptionist jumped up, startled, from his seat. "Do not jump to conclusions, Naara."

 

"Yes ... um how may I help you?" The receptionist stuttered, obviously still half asleep.

 

"Early this morning, a body was brought here. A murder victim from the Slim's Tavern and Club," Avery stated.

 

"Ah, yes. Poor nakii." the man said, the Universal translator not able to translate the obvious curse. "You sure you want to see that?"

 

Naara smiled, taking Avery by the arm and waving daintily at the receptionist. "No, actually, you're right. We don't. Good-bye. Come along, Doctor."

 

Avery cut his eyes at the woman dragging him back towards the door. Breaking free of her grip he looked back to the yawning receptionist. "Yes, I am sure."

 

Naara rolled her eyes, looking around the sides of the room curiously. "These burn marks ... they could be from ectoplasm. We should leave."

 

"We are staying, Naara. I need to examine the corpse." He looked back to the man ... who was dangerously close to falling back asleep while still standing upright. "Excuse me." The man again gave a start and snort as he awoke once more.

 

"Fine, fine, but if you become possessed, do not come crying to me, Avery." She squinted at the receptionist. "Late night?"

 

The receptionist looked to the green one squinting as if the dim light were a blinding glare. "You could say that..."

 

Avery was getting impatient. "Not that this isn't a wonderfully interesting conversation, but I do have work to do."

 

The man looked back to the doctor, a bit miffed at being interrupted while talking to the cute one. "Very well," he nearly hissed. "Put these on." He replied, shoving a small clip at Avery, and gently handing one to Naara.

 

She accepted the clip with a small smile. "Why, thank you! I appreciate it. What is it?"

 

The receptionist looked at Naara. We are entering a room full of dead and decomposing bodies...you figure out the rest sweetie."

 

The Orion was back outside before Tynte could even stop her, headed back to the bar for a drink. "No, this is not what I signed up for with Starfleet. Out, out, out I go. Death is for evil ones."

 

Avery tapped his commbadge, not intending for a moment to physically chase her. "Tynte to Naara. Where exactly are you going?"

 

"Either to get wasted or back to my starbase home. Do you really want to see me with corpses? Can you see me with corpses?"

 

"Naara, Commander Light said no one goes alone. I need you on this one. It will not take long."

 

Without responding, she glanced back at the building, storming back inside, past Sleeping Sam the receptionist. "Doctor, you owe me for this one."

 

"Of course," Avery appeased her, motioning for Sleepy to lead the way.

 

He walked, through a thick door, into a cold, metallic room, sandwiched between the receptionist and Naara. It was rectangular, almost like a hallway.

 

With one distinct difference.

 

There were doors all along the walls. Each had alien writing on the front.

 

Naara shuddered. "Doctor, you'll protect me from demons, right?"

 

"Always," Avery replied drily as the trio came to rest in front of one of the doors, raised off of the floor to waist level.

 

Sleepy tapped at a nearby panel, pausing before opening it. "Here," he said, thrusting a clipboard at the two visitors. "Sign this. It is a release stating why you're here, the time of your visit, and the time of your departure once you leave."

 

Avery took up the pen, glanced over the paper, signed, then handed it to Naara.

 

Naara blinked, neatly printing her name in written Orion. Smiling proudly, she laced her fingers together and leaned on her doctor's shoulder. "My second owner taught me how to write."

 

Avery hoped she was kidding, but doubted it. He handed the clipboard back to Sleepy as the man tapped in the last sequence of buttons. "I will be waiting back in the main room ... can't say I didn't warn ya..."

 

And with that he turned and left. Almost on cue with his exit from the cool room, the door in front of the duo opened. On the shelf behind it, which was now suspended out into the room, lay what was once a living, breathing lifeform.

 

Leaning forward, she peered at the dead man intently. "Isn't it time for me to go off duty?"

 

Avery turned away; he had seen this far to many times. "Soon," he said to the Orion. "Soon."

 

"Death is hatable. How do you stand it, Ty?"

 

Sighing, he turned back to the body. The personnel at this facility had not taken much care in cleaning up the body Avery found as he pulled the sheet down. Seeing the jagged cut along the man's throat, he physically winced.

 

Naara didn't wince, she shrieked. "The poor thing. His soul will forever search for his killer unless a ritual is performed!"

 

Blood still coated the man's throat, and pooled down his chest. "Disgraceful," Avery merely stated, paying the Orion no attention. "The dead never get any respect," he said as he pulled a small recorder from his pocket.

 

It pained him to see a body in such a state. The man at least deserved a dignified appearance after death. But obviously the staff here had better things to do... He glared back up at the door, sure the receptionist was comfortably asleep once again. "Let's get this over with."

 

"Yes. Dinner at eight?" she asked, moving to the door again.

 

"Naara." Avery motioned to the far side of the room where her view would be obstructed, at least partially. She moved in the direction indicated, balling her green hands into little fists in case demons should arise from the corpse.

 

He clicked on the recorder, leaning over the body. "Stardate 20604.18, Examination of victim..." Avery searched for a name anywhere, but found none. Another indignity ..."Victim John Doe."

 

"The subject's cause of death appears to be severe trauma and laceration of the wind pipe." He clicked the recorder off. "He never had a chance...." Pulling the sheet completely off the body, he examined the post mortem incision running down the man's abdomen.

 

Clicking the recorder back on as he picked up the coroner's report, he continued. "Initial reports list time of death as 0341. I believe that to be fairly accurate, give a minute or two either way." He ran his eyes down the body, looking for anything out of place. "There appears to be no contusions or bruising of any kind along the body. The only true injuries suffered are the deep cut through the trachea, and the damage to the back of his skull from hitting the bar floor."

 

He looked through the report again, examining everything for any inconstancies. "There is nothing of note in the report that we are not already aware of." Laying the report of a nearby surface, Avery donned a pair of gloves and began the physical examine.

 

He found nothing, which he found a bit odd, no forensic residue, no marks...nothing.

 

"We are almost done, Naara."

 

"Done. Good. And you still owe me."

 

He looked at her. "I know; I know...owe you, right." He looked back down, making one last once over of the neck area...and then he saw something glint. Gently picking up the tiny object he held it up to the light. "How sloppy of them to miss this..." he said sarcastically.

 

"Miss what?"

 

"This," he said, holding the tiny, glinting object towards her.

 

Naara backed away. "What is it?" Tooth of a demon?!

 

"I have a theory..." He trailed off, suddenly realizing they could be being watching. "I will have to perform a few tests to be sure..." he finished, giving Naara a 'trust me' look.

 

"What is it?" Her voice dropped to a frightened whisper. "Is it a Borg implant?"

 

He slid the object into a small vial, which he in turn placed into his pocket. "No, nothing quite so straightforward."

 

He covered the body back up, and moved around towards where she stood. "We are done here. I will finish my report elsewhere."

 

Hightailing it outside, she removed the clip, tossing it to the sleepy one. "Ty! Get out here before they kill you!"

 

Avery walked towards the doorway, out of the cooler. "Naara..." he said. Appearing to be wrestling with himself, he stopped walking.

 

She paused. "What, dear?"

 

He seemed to come to a decision. He turned and walked back around the body, staring over it at her. "We have one last thing to do. Please, stand opposite of me."

 

Naara did as she was told. After all, wasn't it what she was best at?

 

Avery knew it was hard for her, and he respected her for doing this. He deliberately touched four points on the body with his middle and ring finger, then brought his hands up palms facing Naara. He closed his eyes and waited.

 

Resisting the urge to shiver, she delicately mirrored his movements.

 

As her palms touched against his, Avery lifted his head upwards, keeping his eyes closed. Quietly, almost inaudibly, he began speaking in his native tongue.

 

Speaking in hers, the Orion repeated a prayer for the dead taught to her by her mother. What surprised her was that the Bajoran didn't seem offended.

 

The two stood, surrounded by the dead, most of them probably brought here by the same thing that the man under their connected arms suffered. The dead do no harm... Avery repeated in his mind. The living ... he solemnly thought. The living are a different story.