By Whose Hand?
By Whose Hand?
Summary: Shem comes to Zaharis for information, and leaves with a mountain of suspicions.
Date: 95 ACH
Related Logs: Loyalties
Players:
Shem..Zaharis..

Chief Medical Officers Office Genesis - Deck 13
95 ACH 23797 Souls


The office of the Chief Medical Officer is a small room, used mostly for consultations and review of sensitive patient materials than the paperwork of the Medical department, which goes through the Naval Administrative offices. Still somehow it has file cabinets along one wall stuffed full of papers, two chairs in front of a desk behind which a large leather chair is set. On the desk sits a computer terminal.
Sitting on the file cabinet is a Rod of Asclepius carved from two different types of wood. The rod is made from lighter wood, while the snake is darker. The eye of the snake is inlayed with tiny crystals so that it sparkles in the light. It stands on a smallish pedestal with a legend: Do no harm to thyself nor to others.


Shem has arrived.

Zaharis is dressed in his dark blue scrubs and at his filing cabinet, a drawer open. One file is in the crook of his arm as he goes through the papers inside.

There's a double rap on the door.

Zaharis shuts the folder and pushes the cabinet drawer shut. He turns back towards his desk, staying on his feet. "Come in."

Shem steps inside. "Sir," he says, voice sounding urgent. But when is it not, when the S2 and the CMO meet?

They do seem to have one of those working relationships based on the more hair-raising news around the fleet. Zaharis puts the folder down on his desk and stacks something else on top of it, the letters '-ik Regas' briefly visible before they're covered. "Lieutenant."

"You have a back entrance into the sickbay?" Shem questions dubiously.

"Yes," Zaharis replies, setting his fingertips on the desk. "Fire door. Why?"

Shem nods. "I've been ordered by Colonel Salin to open an investigation into Commander Regas's death, to make sure that the XO didn't off the skipper."

"He wants an investigation to make sure he himself didn't commit a crime?" Zaharis asks in a way that doesn't expect a logical answer. "Alright, whatever. How does this connect to our fire door?"

Shem explains, "I'm about to order the Sheriff to go through Salin's quarters and take all of his clothing. Can you check them out for blood or gunpowder residue?"

"Be happy to," Zaharis replies, tonelessly.

Shem adds, "And the skipper's autopsy, also."

"I'll forward you a copy," Zaharis says, flicking his thumbnail against the edge of his desk. "Every indicator supports a CoD of suicide. Angle of the shot, the directional spatter, body positioning, everything."

Shem nods. He runs a palm over his cheek and remarks, sarcastically, "That's good to hear, sir."

Zaharis smiles thinly. He glances down at the covered file on his desk, then back at Shem. "Are his quarters still sealed off?"

"Yes," Shem confirms. "The MPs are still up there. None of them know what happened, save for the two that were outside, and they've been sworn to secrecy."

"Alright." Zaharis seems to have had an abrupt thought, and it's pulling a faint frown onto his lips. "Do something for me. He was smoking a cheroot or something like that a short time before he died. Have someone retrieve it and send it down here. Anything like that, cheroot or cigar butts or anything you find."

Shem raises his eyebrows. "Sir?"

"Sir, what?" Zaharis raises an eyebrow. "Just do it."

Shem clears his throat. "Yes, of course, sir. I'll have the clothes to you in a couple of hours."

"Thank you." Zaharis sits down in his chair. "Have the cheroots and anything like that bagged and sent directly to me." He looks a bit more frowny now, thinking. "Make sure whoever touches them uses gloves."

"Mind if I ask what you're worried about, sir?" Shem questions.

Zaharis exhales through his nose. "That the Commander shot himself is certain to me. The thing that's bothering me is the circumstances. The suddenness. I don't think anyone shot him, but I'm not so sure that nobody /caused/ him to shoot himself."

Shem furrows his eyebrows. "Yes, sir." He pops off a quick salute and is on his way.

Shem leaves for Sickbay [o].
Shem has left.

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