Paydirt
Paydirt
Summary: Shem comes back from investigating, with some new information.
Date: 63 ACH
Related Logs: Another Man's Poison
Players:
Shem..Zaharis..

Chief Medical Officers Office Genesis - Deck 13
63 ACH 23817 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.


Zaharis is over at his filing cabinet, hunting through the drawers for something. At the knock he calls out the permission and shuts the heavy metal drawer with a clang.

Shem shuts the door behind him and approaches Zaharis. He has a manilla folder. He salutes, glancing from the drawer to him. "Sir."

Zaharis returns the salute, moving back behind his desk once the drawer's secure. "What can I do for you, Lieutenant?"

Shem follows Zaharis and stands to in front of the major's desk. "I got a hold of Mr. Jeffries, sir. Turns out he caught one of those Cylons in the act of replacing a water filter with one of those industrial ones that had that mercury in it."

Zaharis exhales slowly through his nose. He nods and sits down, motioning for Shem to do the same. "Did he catch her before the contaminated filter was installed?"

Shem takes a seat after Zaharis does. He shakes his head. "No, sir. She threw the filter at Mr. Jeffries, and some of that chemical got on him. He shot her with a civilian weapon." He passes the folder across the desk, the patient record for the man on the Destiny. Kidney failure due to mercury chromide poisoning was one of the outcomes. "His story checks out. He was decontaminated by Nebula staff and taken to the Destiny for treatment."

Zaharis opens the folder, taking a look at the papers. "Thank you." A few seconds pass as he reads, then he looks back at the S2. "How aware are the crews of the Nebula and Destiny of what happened?"

"That, I'm not sure, sir," Shem replies. He leans back in the chair and sets his arms on the armrests. "He didn't kill the woman, and she escaped from the crew. Mr. Jeffries told me that what passes for security over there found her and her twin together, and they shot both of them."

Zaharis nods, closing the folder. "And the contaminated filter? Was it recovered?"

Shem nods. "Yes, sir, by the Destiny crew. I didn't ask for it since there wasn't anything unusual about a mercury filter."

Zaharis makes no further comment, investigation not being his area. "Alright. So we're still right where we started, just with some details filled in on what we already suspected." His fingers tap the folder and he shakes his head. "What names and details did the ship rosters give on the two women?"

"The woman that Mr. Jeffries worked with came from another ship the Destiny hooked up with, sir," Shem replies. "I don't believe any details were kept, but I will check with the other ships. The twin, I have no information on."

"So she was actually working as a technician? The poisoner?" Zaharis asks. "He knew her before he caught her changing the filters?"

Shem confirms, "Yes, sir. Says that he made herself known shortly after the Pegasus left. I know what you're thinking, sir. More traps on that ship are a definite possibility. I've lodged a request to get at what kind of work areas she was in, but with the way those ships are, there's no guarantee she didn't do anything outside of that." He pauses. "I think it's general knowledge on these ships that Cylons can make human-looking robots, sir. Mr. Jeffries indicated that the Pegasus confirmed it before leaving."

"Damn." Zaharis rubs the bridge of his nose. "I think it is too, and I think our hand's already well and tipped on that front. If there are more of these things, they're going to be a lot more careful now."

"Yes, sir," Shem agrees. "We got no intelligence network in the fleet, and honestly, with the facts on the ground, we're stuck with a reactive instead of a proactive pattern. I'll trace these leads as far as I can, sir."

"Alright." Zaharis nods. "I'll get the clothes of the other one and see if we can get anything at all to indicate someplace she might've been on those ships. Not a big chance, but we'll try."

Shem nods. He pulls out a modest nine millimeter pistol, definitely not military regulation, from one of his cargo pockets. "I borrowed Mr. Jeffries's gun. This was what he used to shoot her. Just to be sure his story is fully checked out. You have the ability to match 'em to holes, right?"

"Not to the exact model of gun, but to the bullet type and calibre, yes." Zaharis nods. He takes a large envelope from the desk drawer, holding it open so Shem can put the firearm inside.

Shem glances at the safety again before slipping the gun in. "One last thing, sir."

Zaharis seals the envelope, nodding to Shem. "What is it?"

"Mr. Jeffries said that when he caught her in the act, she ripped some metal piping straight out of its bolts and used it as a weapon," Shem says. He crosses his legs.

Zaharis' hands pause, and one brow slowly arches. "So not only are these 'clones' toxin-resistant, but they reportedly have superhuman strength." That's less a question than a statement to convince himself that he didn't just imagine what Shem said.

Shem nods. "Par for the course, sir." He sniffs and runs a finger under his nose. "At least for that one twin. Might be something worth looking over."

Zaharis exhales a breath of a totally humourless chuckle. "Yeah. I'll have the team look over A again. Lieutenant, would you mind forwarding me the entire Jeffries report? Including any transcript if it was recorded?"

Shem shakes his head. "It wasn't, sir." He pauses, considering the first question. "This was my report. I prefer to keep things off paper in situations like these. I could type one, if you would like?" He doesn't sound enthusiastic about that prospect.

Zaharis shakes his head. "No, do it like you do. If that's everything then that's everything."

"Yes, sir," Shem replies. "Would you like me to make a report to Major Zimmerman or the colonel, sir?"

"Yes, both," Zaharis rests his arms on the desk. "As the Colonel had requested."

Shem nods. "By your leave, sir?"

Zaharis nods once. His mind's already in the lab somewhere. "Dismissed."

Shem stands and salutes. "Good luck, sir. Let me know if you find another avenue that you think should be investigated."

Zaharis returns salute without standing. "Of course, Lieutenant."

Shem nods and leaves quickly.

Shem leaves for Sickbay [o].

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