Autopsy
Posted on Thu Jan 29th, 2026 @ 10:33pm by Captain M'Raz & Lieutenant Commander Jason Reeves & Lieutenant Richard Pierce MD
1,207 words; about a 6 minute read
Mission:
Collating Data
Location: Sickbay (Morgue)
It had been about an hour since returning from the station. All the bodies had been brought aboard the Crazy Horse for an autopsy to have a better idea on what actually took place on the surface. From a visual standpoint there had been torture involve. But Jason Reeves wanted answers on who was responsible. Hopefully the doctor would be able to shed some light on the situation. Entering in the morgue area of sickbay, he spotted Doctor Pierce. "Hey doc. The Captain is on his way down. How are things looking so far?"
Popeye looked up from the table, gloves already smeared with evidence of a long hour’s work. He pulled them off slowly, his expression grim but focused.
“Not good,” he said quietly. “Whatever happened down there wasn’t quick—and it wasn’t mercy. I’m still sorting cause of death on a few, but the trauma patterns are consistent. This wasn’t random violence. It was deliberate.”
He met Reeves’ eyes.
“I’ll compile what I have and get it to you right away—but so far, every answer points to someone sending a message.”
Raz entered Sickbay, heading back toward where the autopsy was being performed, his Caitian features doing a good job of masking what he was feeling though the snap of his tail, his long, ground-eating strides, and the wintry chill in the depths of his pale gray eyes told their own tales. "Report," he said as he entered the autopsy room, his gaze tracking down to the Starfleet officer on the table.
Turning his attention to the Captain, Reeves clearly was upset. "These people were tortured."
Popeye straightened as Raz entered, his posture professional but his jaw set hard. He didn’t sugarcoat it.
“They were,” he confirmed, voice steady but edged. “Prolonged trauma, inflicted while they were alive and conscious. This wasn’t interrogation that went too far—this was punishment. Or intimidation.”
He gestured subtly toward the body on the table.
“Multiple injury types, applied in stages. Pain compliance methods, stress positions, controlled infliction. Whoever did this knew exactly how far they could go before organ failure—and chose not to stop.” His eyes lifted to meet the Captain’s. “Cause of death varies, but the pattern doesn’t. This was systematic. Intentional. And meant to be seen.”
Raz nodded, his gaze lifting from the body on the table to Pierce. "Once you've completed the autopsies, I'll send notification to their families. Starfleet Command has a registry now so that those who are looking for loved ones have a place to start their search. That will be standard procedure, at least for the foreseeable, notifying the registry whenever we run across someone whose died or ... been taken by the Borg."
Popeye inclined his head at the Captain’s words, expression sobering further if that was even possible.
“I’ll make sure my reports are airtight before anything goes to the registry,” he said quietly. “They deserve accuracy—especially if their families are already searching for answers. I’ll flag anything identifiable and coordinate with Command Medical so nothing falls through the cracks.”
"We don't much about the Borg," the Commander brought up. "But based on their behavior, I don't think this was their handy work. "I'm thinking Cardassians or even Romulans. Anyway, that we can confirm this doctor?"
Pierce shifted slightly, turning toward the Commander as the question of responsibility came up.
“No, sir,” Popeye said firmly. “This doesn’t fit what little we know of the Borg. There’s no evidence of assimilation prep, no surgical efficiency, no interest in preservation. This wasn’t about taking them—it was about making them suffer.”
He glanced back at the bodies.
“Torture like this is personal. Methodical. Designed to break, not convert. Cardassian techniques would align disturbingly well. Romulan involvement is possible too, but this feels… instructional. Deliberate brutality meant to intimidate.”
He met the Commander’s gaze.
“I can’t give you a name yet—but I can tell you with medical certainty: this was done by someone who wanted these deaths to mean something.”
The Commander simply sighed in frustration. It wasn't towards the doctors response, but rather another mystery they found themselves having to deal with. First these Borg and now these poor tortured souls. It was as if the Federation couldn't seem to catch a break. Turning to the Captain, he regained his composure. "I left Suarez and Hunt on the station to go through the system to see what they can come up with."
"Let's leave the doctor to his work, Commander," Raz said. "We have other things to do." He nodded toward the physician and left Sickbay, his route leading him back toward the Bridge. As he walked, he thought about everything he had heard and what it meant for the ship, Starfleet, and the Federation going forward.
Popeye gave a brief nod as the Captain turned to leave, understanding the weight sitting on both of them.
“I’ll forward my preliminary findings within the hour,” he said, voice calm and professional despite the storm underneath it. “If Suarez and Hunt turn up anything that needs medical correlation—chemicals, radiation exposure, neural damage—I’ll re-examine the data immediately.”
As Raz and the Commander exited, Popeye looked back to the table, exhaling slowly.
“For what it’s worth,” he added, not looking up, “this kind of cruelty doesn’t come from chaos. It comes from intent. And intent leaves fingerprints.”
Then he pulled on a fresh pair of gloves and returned to his work, the room falling back into the quiet hum of Sickbay.
[En Route Back to the Bridge]
Reeves walked alongside the Captain. The look that was currently on Raz's was all too familiar. "The look on your face says it all. So, what's going on in that head of yours?"
Raz slanted a look sideways at his first officer, a slight lift of his mouth, and nodded. "We have a new player in the mix. Someone as desperate for information as we are. Could be, the Federation wasn't the only place the Borg hit." He shrugged lightly. "Just conjecture though. Not enough facts yet to be sure. Suarez know what to look for?"
"He works in intelligence. The man should have a superior skillset when it comes to digging up secrets."
"Never assume," Raz muttered. "Especially now." He entered the turbolift and waited for his First Officer to join him before saying, "Bridge." Once the turbolift started moving, he continued. "Starfleet Intelligence has been known to try and slip their operatives into starship crews before. Though now that I think about it, they are pretty good at ferreting out secrets, just not so willing to hand over what they find."
Raising a curious eyebrow, he thought about the concerns that Raz was discussing. "Sounds as if you have some concerns about Suarez. Any particular reason why?"
"No," Raz said as the doors opened onto the Bridge. "Don't know him. Let's say I'm naturally suspicious, especially of Starfleet Intelligence."
Captain M'Raz
Commanding Officer
USS Crazy Horse
Lt. Commander Jason Reeves
Executive Officer
USS Crazy Horse
Lieutenant Richard Pierce, M.D.
Chief Medical Officer
USS Crazy Horse
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