Smash and Grab

[LeftEar JoNs 0]

The following patrol log takes place immediately after the 02.10.12 Sim…

 

After the brawl on the Midway had been contained, Commander LeftEar JoNs and Alpha Team had deployed to sweep the secondary corridors and access points for stragglers and injured. On JoNs’s orders, the officers had split up in order to cover more territory.

 

JoNs was working through Grid Four, a secondary storage for the Midway stores and kiosks that was slated to be converted into temporary living space if the refugee situation did not improve. She moved cautiously among the extra kiosk parts and supplies, checking that no one was hiding.

 

The felinoid’s communications badge blipped, and she swiped a paw at the device. “JoNs. Go ahead.”

 

The voice of the female Andorian, I’Shinn, immediately came back to her. “I’Shinn. Commander, I’ve located a smash and grab - section B, access corridor A. He’s stable for now. Medical has been informed but it will be some time before a team can get here.”

 

Security had been dealing not only with the influx of displaced Romulans, but thugs had taken to roaming among the population; they would track a target, assault them, and take any valuables. The Romulan refugees were prime targets as most had grabbed what valuables they could carry when fleeing ahead of the shockwave.

 

She growled low in her throat. “I’m on my way. Inform the others as well…”

****

The victim was a Romulan male in his early to mid hundreds, judging by the streaks of silver just starting to appear in his hair. He wore a metallic brown business suit of upper class civilian cut, rumpled from the days of waiting for a billet to be assigned to him, if at all. A hard plastic briefcase lay nearby, open; flimsies, data chits and data PADDs lay strewn about the corridor. Credit chits lost in what had obviously been a sloppy scuffle also littered the deck plating.

 

Dark green blood had pooled under his head, and the elderly man was still unconscious. His lower left arm lay at a skewed angle, his left hand mottled with green bruises. His right eye and nose showed also showed signs of blunt force trauma. I’Shinn had placed a portable breather unit over his mouth.

 

Crouching, JoNs reached out to gently press a paw to his neck; the pulse was very weak, but steady. With a growled sigh, she stood and addressed her team.

 

“Collins, take his image and run it through our facial recognition programs; if you find anything, let me know. I’Shinn, stay with him until the medics arrive and escort them to the Medical bay. Kwang, secure the crime scene, collect the evidence,” she began to move away, “I’ll continue sweeping the area…”

 

A chorus of sharp ‘Aye Sirs’ rang out in response to the orders.

 

In an attempt to lighten the dark situation, the brown furred Caitian called over her shoulder as she departed, “Don’t call me ‘Sir’, I work for a living.”