Commodore Jelly

Posted on Saturday February 13th, 2021 @ 6:44pm by Captain Tobias Bishop III

Mission: The Forgotten Outpost
Location: Main Promenade
Timeline: Current

ON:

If there is one thing that Dr. Smith likes, is to relax watching the women go by, and as a Forensic Pathologists, when he didn’t have a patient on his table stretched out for a Forensic examination, he was usually out and about wherever he was at.

Just arrived on the last shuttle to DS3, Dr. Smith now late in, arriving with the hundreds of other souls, came on the last flight, and checked in. With the day nearly gone, and it was a Friday evening, Dr. Smith decided on going out to see the Promenade. Having spent most of his life working in a land facility; Dr. Smith found life on board the station to be a bit hectic. Remembering that there were over 180,000 people on board an eight mile high by six mile in width station, was like living in a sardine can. However with that many souls, the chances of him ever meeting his patients other than on the autopsy table was far to none, and very slim that he’d meet them while alive.

Seeing that the dining facility for the civilians living and working there was now closing, he found a small coffeeshop off the main promenade deck and proceeded to go there to enjoy a quick meal before entering his cabin.

Seeing that there was no one inside except for the propieter who owned the coffee shop, he stopped, looked around, and ordered a large cheesecake. Receiving the cheesecake, it was a thick and rich Kiwi cheesecake, with a topping of real Kiwi fruit, whipped crème, all on a graham cracker crust. Something which the replicators could not quite replicate.

So taking his order and the coffee he had ordered, Dr. Smith quickly sat down, made sure his personal belongings were with him, and proceeded to eat the cake. For the next 10 minutes all he could think of was how rich the cheesecake was, comparing it to the original New York style cheesecake he had at his last Convention in NY City, two years ago.

Finished with his cheesecake, Dr. Smith met several older civilians, and after talking to them he was going to finish reading an article from the magazine “Forensic Pathology Today” Sitting there he was engrossed in an article about how some prisons on earth were starting to incarcerate the harder criminals, by first placing them in a transporter chamber, breaking down their atoms, and storing them inside a Transporter sub routine.
The article went into the issues with long term storage, but as he read; the authors had already performed this on a small “Targ” which had been broken down some 10 years prior to the article, and had been revived, all of which caused no ill effects on the animal. Even their age progression had stopped leaving them at the same age as when they were first broken down, and put back together again.

As he sat there enjoying his article, Dr. smith felt something on his head, it wasn’t blood but something made him look up, and up on the highest deck that he could see was a tiny blob which suddenly grew to a large size that it missed him, landing some 10-20 feet away from a bulkhead of the Station. Suddenly there was a large commotion as more than 100 people were now converging on the blob, which was the shape of a man wearing a Starfleet Uniform in the rank of Commodore. Unfortunately for what was left of him, his body bore the brunt of the fall, and judging by the damage, Dr. Smith determined that the man had fallen some 10 decks above the promenade. Deciding not to go up and do his investigations, since he wasn’t officially on duty at this time, all Dr. Smith could do was take down his own observations, and let the Security personnel worry about the little stuff.

With the entire promenade floor now being covered by Starfleet Security, he spotted the investigators who were now interviewing almost anyone outside at the time of the incident. And finally a young Lieutenant from Security interviewed him. Giving his name, and status, the Lieutenant found out that he was the new incoming Forensic Pathologists, and now they were asking him what happened. But as he told them, he was still not officially assigned to DS3, and could not begin any Crime Scene investigation.

Sitting down in his seat, Dr. Smith began to write a comprehensive report that he though was important, when he was interrupted by a young woman, with a smile and a mischievous look on her face. Identifying herself as a Field Agent for SCIS, the woman asked if he would try to reconstruct the crime scene. Seeing that she was the only person among the Security personnel who wore their department colors, this woman wore civilian clothes, and a dark blue jacket with the words SCIS Major Crime Resonding Unit on the back, and without any witnesses it was the turn of a Forensic Pathologist to fill in one part of the investigation.

With the woman collecting the information from the security Officers she turned to the Security Investigator, and brief him on the death. As she did this, Dr. Smith decided to go ahead and do his own investigation.
First he measured the angle and the position of the dead commodore, then with his own Forensic PaDD he measured the approximate weight of the deceased, then using a standard set of measurements he calculated that the person was around 185 lbs (83 kgs), and falling from a height of 365.7 m (1,199 ft) or in laymens language.. 265 decks above the promenade floor.

The speed of the body’s impact was roughly around 84.67 m/s, or 304,81 km/h. Which should be around 8.64 s and the energy at impact was around 663122.88 joules,

That amount of energy was more than enough to turn his body into one very messy, and bloody blob of humanity, for every bone in the body was broken, some of which were now barely visible, and with that much damage it would be extremely hard to even determine whether he had been struck, then fell at first glance, or he had a medical emergency that would have caused him to fall face forward over the catwalk.

After identifying himself as the new Forensic Pathologists; Dr. Smith ordered the body to be taken to the morgue inside the new SCIS Facility. As usual Dr. Smith had come up with a new name for the deceased, which he called “Commodore Jelly”, and left it at that, as he finished his coffee, and ate the last of his pastry all the while watching at the faces of the brand new Security Officers as they puked up their guts as they finished shoving the Commodores bloody body into the body bags.

End

Dr. Rex Smith, MD
SA, SCIS
Chief Medical Examiner
Forensic Pathologists
Deep Space Three