RP Log: Legwork, Parts 2 and 3

Roleplay Log
Participants: T'Shaav	Crewman Johnson (NPC) Crewman Davidson (NPC)
Location(s): Engineering Lounge Deck 29 Chief of Security's Office Warp Nacelle Starboard Catwalk
Stardate: 127253.36
2023-08-07 18:24

Engineering Lounge - Deck 29 <USS Phoenix NCC-170100-A>

A bright, jovial area for rest and relaxation, this is a department-specific lounge. A number of chiffon coloured sofas amid the titanium and sky-blue colour scheme of the room promotes a relaxed cloud-like environment. An LCARS panel next to the entrance allows access to climate and lighting controls, as well as to a wide selection of music from many different cultures. Next to the panel is a small replicator, and all the bulkheads are adorned with a variety of art pieces.

Engineering must be between shifts at the moment, as the lounge is quite packed with those coming on shift, and those coming off. Most notably, a crewman is planking the back of one of the sofas trying to make it look like he is floating in the clouds. He is getting several laughs.

The Vulcan commander is a stranger to the lower decks engineering lounge. She looks around. Zeroing in on her intended person, she speaks. "Crewman Davidson," she says. "I need to speak with you."

Davidson, the crewman who was planking, falls behind the sofa. Slowly just his head appears, "Me sir?" he asks tentatively.

"You," the Vulcan confirms. "Come with me, Crewman. This will take only a few minutes." She turns towards the door. "Carry on," she tells the rest.

Davidson straightens up and adjusts his uniform. "Aye sir, yes sir." he is on your heels.

Chief of Security's Office - Saucer <USS Phoenix NCC-170100-A>

This dedicated office is large and designed to meet the needs of the officer and billet assigned to it. The carpet is steel-blue with navy-blue trim, with the bulkheads, walls, and furniture in a subdued pewter colour. The room is bathed in a soft glow from the overhead lighting panels, and a glossy black panel set into the bulkhead opposite the door provides access to an LCARS interface. A sizeable desk is positioned in the center of the room, with a tall backed swivel chair behind it. A display curves out of the desk with a touchpad set into the desk at its base, and on the opposite end is a tall, built-in lamp. In front of the desk are two mid-sized chairs, and two workstations are built into the bulkheads on either side of the room in small cubicles.

Davidson follows you in.

T'Shaav sits behind the desk and poins to the replicator. "Would you like something, Crewman? Feel free. THen, have a seat." She gestures to a chair.

Davidson immediately starts talking, "Sir, I was just having a little fun. No harm in planking in the break room." He smiles. "Surely not enough for you to come down and", he looks around, gulps, "bring me to your office. This is kinda nice too. Never been in the chief's office, I imagine it might be similar." He glances at the replicator, "Don't mind if I do sir." and orders up a mead. "I am on break after all." He takes the dark frothy drink and sits across from you.

T'Shaav nods. "You are right, Crewman. I am not concerned with your activities in the break room. I would like you to tell me how well you knew Crewman Rosanna Jenkins. You are not a suspect, but your name has come to my attention."

"She's hot, her was hot, I mean." Davidson stumbles, "Sorry sir, don't mean to speak ill of the dead." he sips his drink gaining a frothy mustache in the process. He does not lick it off. "I wanted to know her better sir. But she wasn't interested in me. Her loss really." He cross one leg over the other and leans back in the chair. Thinking better of it, he sits up straight again.

"I see. Please describe your last interactions with her. I have heard you wanted to take her on a date?"

Some of the froth on Davidson's upper lip drips down onto his pants. He then wipes his face with the back of his sleeved arm. "Like I said sir, she didn't want to date me. Damn shame really, she was", he coughs and sips his drink.

"First, tell me how you knew her. Did you share shifts together?" THe Vulcan asks. "When did you ask her for the date?"

"When I asked her, sir?" Davidson shakes his head, "I don't get what you mean sir. I couldn't ask her when she was already dead, sir." He thinks on it, "I was a day or two before maybe? But like I said, she said no, so we never went on a date."

T'Shaav says,"How did you learn she was dead, Crewman?"

"Everyone was talking about that night and the next days sir." Davidson replies, "News travels fast, especially bad news, sir."

"I see," the Vulcan says. "You said you noticed her. Did you notice with whom she seemed to spend the most time? Even on shift. Did she have regular shiftmates?"

Davidson thinks on that, "I'm not sure sir. There may have been a couple, but I couldn't place em, or tell you their names. Surely her shift-mates are on file some where?"

"Perhaps," the Vulcan says. "Very well, Crewman. You may go. I will let you know if I need you again. Let me know if you think of anything else you think would help my investigation."

Davidson nods, "Of course sir, glad to help." He stands, finishes his mead and puts the empty glass in the replicator.

"Computer," T'Shaav says after Davidson goes, "Locate Crewman Taylor Johnson."

A soft alto feminine voice says, "Crewman Taylor Johnson located in Nacelle Catwalk - Starboard"

Nacelle Catwalk - Starboard <USS Phoenix NCC-170100-A>

Only accessible when the plasma stream is deactivated and the nacelle secure, this long catwalk runs nearly the full length of the nacelle, roughly 400 meters. A simple bucket and conveyor system can be utilized by vessel personnel who want to make the full trip quicker. The massive warp coils that line the nacelle can be directly accessed here, however any significant repair would likely require the outer plating of the nacelle be removed so the entire coil assembly can be replaced.

There is a small work crew in the nacelle at the moment, a couple of Terrans, a Bajoran, and a Tellerite. Thankfully the nacelle isn't currently in use, else, toast.

T'Shaav enters the catwalk and starts walking down the 400-meter length of the walkway. "Crewman Johnson?" She calls, spotting the crewmen.

Johnson stops what she is doing and wipes her forehead, leaving a grease smeer there. "What, can't you see I'm busy?" She notes its an officer, "Oh, sorry sir." and stands at attention.

"Walk with me, Crewman," the Vulcan says. She starts walking away in the direction that would take her farther from the others, stopping only when there are dozens of meters between where she is and the rest of the work crew.

Taylor looks at her crewmates, shrugs, then follows you down the gangway. She doesn't say another word.

T'Shaav turns to face Johnson. "Crewman," she says in a quieter tone, "I am investigating the death of your roommate, Crewman Jenkins. I have taken over the effort personally. Perhaps you could tell me about her as your roommate."

"Rosie was nice sir, kept to herself mostly." Taylor shrugs, "She worked hard, I never had a problem with her when we worked shifts together. We didn't socialize much outside of work though."

"I am told she kept largely to herself," the Vulcan says.

Taylor nods.

"You are the first person to say something positive about her, Crewman. Usually when people say that someone is nice and they work hard, they like something about them. What was it that made her nice, and how was her work as you saw it? I am trying to get to know her in hopes of figuring out who would want her dead, you understand."

Taylor shrugs again, "I don't know sir. You seem nice, but I don't know you all that well." She adds, "But Rosie never spoke ill of anyone, got along well with people. Well, with those she interacted with anyways. Like I said, she was a loner." She hmms to herself, "You know, I got the feeling she wasn't always like that, that maybe before, and I can't say when for sure, but before she was assigned to the Phoenix maybe, she might not have been as quiet. Ya know what I mean?"

"And what gave you that idea?" The Vulcan says, nodding.

"Well, it was like she was over-compensating, you know?" Taylor replies. "Making up for maybe a past that wasn't as nice, she wasn't as nice." She shrugs. "It could be all in my head though, but, I'm usually not wrong about these kind of things. Nana always said I was part Betazoid."

T'Shaav nods. "I see. That is more observation about her than others have come forward with. It may prove helpful. So tell me whatever you think, even if you are not sure. You may say something helpful without knowing it."

Taylor smiles at her self, "Thank you sir, I try to be helpful whenever I can. Like, it was a few weeks back, Rosie wanted to pick out an outfit for a date." She shrugs, "She'd never asked for my help with that before, and I never even seen her go on one to be honest with you sir. But, there we were, picking out an outfit. She said she wanted something with blue in it, to match their eyes."

"I did hear something about a potential date," T'Shaav says, "but it was a date she declined. Who was the other person?"

Taylor shrugs, "I never found out who, sir. She declined one too? That is odd, given she rarely went on one. Was this recently too? That just doesn't seem like her at all."

"She never talked about a crewman named Davidson?" The Vulcan asks. "I understand he asked, and she declined."

Taylor chuckles, "Davidson asks everyone out, sir. He asked me four times I think before we had coffee once. But, he's all talk no bite. Thinks he's all that." She shakes her head. "He had no chance with Rosie though, she seemed to shy away from Terran males." She shakes her head, "Shy away isn't the right term." She scratches her head, adding more grease to her face from her dirty hand. "Avoided?" she shrugs.

"Did she indeed," the Vulcan says. "Whom did she seem to spend time with so far as you could tell?" Taylor shakes her head, "Didn't say she had a type, sir. She's a loner, but, it was pretty obvious, to me at least, she avoided the Terran boys."

T'Shaav nods. "Let me advance you a theory, Miss Johnson," she says. "You say that you thought she was keeping to herself more than she would have been naturally inclined, yes? And you say she seemed to avoid Terran men. I submit to you, she was afraid of someone, or someones. And she had reason to be."

"Like she knew someone was out to get her, sir?" Taylor asks. "Wow, that's so heart breaking. Imagine fearing like that on a daily basis. I never."

"No, likely you have not," T'Shaav agrees. "Did she seem any different to you the day of her death? Was she, perhaps, more nervous about anything as you can recall?"

Taylor thinks on that, "Not that I recall sir. But I guess I didn't know her all that well, if she feared for her own life and I didn't even know it. Maybe Nana was wrong." She pouts.

"Perhaps. Though even a full Betazoid might not have picked up on the exact matter," T'Shaav says. "Telepathy is not all-seeing, myths to the contrary notwithstanding. Crewman, this has been very enlightening. You say she seemed to avoid Terrans or Terran men. What gave you that idea? Were there comments to that effect?"

Taylor shakes her head slowly, "I don't think there were specific incidents. She wasn't overt about it sir. It was more a feeling I guess, based on little things here and there."

T'Shaav nods. "Miss Johnson, a difficult question. Looking back, given her death and what you and I have said, is there anything, any incident or habbit or puzzling behavior that you can think of which may now make sense in this context?"

"Maybe if I knew her longer sir, but we only served aboard the Phoenix a few months." Taylor replies. "Nothing else comes to mind. Sorry I'm not more helpful, sir."

"More than you may realize, Crewman," T'Shaav says. "I will seek you if I need to speak with you again."

Taylor nods, and waits to be dismissed. Oh the gossip she will have for her crewmates.

T'Shaav says, "Dismissed."