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Dr Solok -- R-E-S-P-E-C-T


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((Morgue, Deck 576, Starbase 118))

::Solok approached the Tellarite deliberately but with caution, as one ought always to approach Tellarites.::

Solok: Doctor.

::Fargit was standing atop a short stool, immersed -- quite literally -- in his work. He was poring over the innards of what seemed to be roughly 43% of a person, charred beyond visual recognition. His short snout occasionally pressed into what seemed like it must once have been a pelvis of some sort, but the coroner did not seem to mind. Death was his work, and he took his work seriously. Solok was not offended by that.::

Solok: Doctor Fargit.

::Fargit did not look up.::

Fargit: Hairline fracture, tertiary node, pelvis. Likely caused by traumatic impact with a large object. ::He stood slightly, his face now visible, his fatigue clear.:: Like a starship deck, or corridor wall, or bulkhead, or some such. Hnh. Cause of death ... ::He looked up, his eyes glinting somewhat, his gaze steadily meeting Solok's.:: .. what should it be, eh?

Solok: I --

Fargit: I'd say blunt force trauma, but as you can see, ha, uh, this poor fellow is without a head. Immolation? Smoke inhalation? Tripped getting out of the sonic shower? It's anybody's guess, really.

::Solok looked grim. Solok always looked grim, but in the morgue, it was somehow both more fitting and more difficult to bear. That is, unless you were Fargit.::

Solok: I see.

Fargit: Harrumph.

::It was a long moment before either man spoke again.::

Solok: Doctor --

Fargit: Computer, register cause of death for Case Number 453-F as "undetermined." ::The computer chirped acknowledgement.:: So many of 'em are undetermined. Takes the fun out of it, really.

Solok: Doctor Fargit, I have come to assist with the autopsies.

Fargit; Assist? Don't you mean "oversee"?

::Solok looked around the room. The bodies had been arranged neatly, and were clearly organized according to some principle Solok had yet to discern. The medical examiner's assistants, as well as other medical staff reassigned temporarily to the morgue, were making rapid and efficient progress. It was ... impressive.::

Solok: Oversight appears to be unnecessary.

Fargit; Ha. A compliment. ::He paused, his nostrils flaring slightly.:: I think I'll be filing for a transfer.

Solok: A transfer?

Fargit: If you're going to be this rude, I'll definitely have to find somewhere else to work.

::He shuffled off toward another gurney, one of his Terran assistants following him with the stool.::

Solok: It was not my intention to give offense.

Fargit: Exactly! ::Turning to his assistant, who made the stool ready, Fargit stepped up onto it. He was still a full foot shorter than Solok.:: Computer, open file Case Number 454-B.

::Laying on the gurney between them was the badly burned body of what appeared to have been a Terran female. Solok could not tell for certain by visual inspection alone.::

Solok: Doctor, I require some information. Do you yet know if any Flaxians were among the deceased?

Fargit: Ha. Harrumph. Hnh. ::He fiddled with his tricorder.:: The body has been destroyed by fire. Or heat. It's the heat that kills you, anyway. Plasma burns? I don't know. Fifth and sixth degree burns over the whole body. Had to be near enough the explosion to get the full heat of the blast, but far enough away not to have been disassembled by the concussive force. Hm. Yep. The fire killed this one. Or the heat, anyway. Computer, register cause of death for Case Number 454-B as "immolation." I'd rather say "smoke inhalation," for the families. Sounds better. Probably hurts just the same, though.

::Solok didn't know if Fargit was talking about the deceased, or her family.::

Solok: Doctor --

::His commbadge chirped.::

Udas: =/\= Udas to Doctor Solok and Lieutenant Matthews. Please report to the Security Office on Deck 1067. No time for updates now, but I need your expertise once we arrive. =/\=

Solok: =/\= Understood. =/\=

::Solok closed the comm link, then made as if to depart the morgue.::

Fargit; No.

::Solok stopped.::

Solok: I do not understand, Doctor.

Fargit: We did a DNA sweep when the bodies were first deposited in the morgue. Saves us a lot of time with identifications later, especially since anyone with a Starfleet history -- friend or foe -- is already in the system. We've got Andorians, and Klingons, and Tellarites, and humans -- a right mess of humans. Even a few Vulcans, I'm happy to report. ::He almost smiled.:: But nary a single Flaxian.

::The coroner turned back to his work. Solok paused, then spoke very carefully.::

Solok: You are almost certainly aware, Doctor, that you are essentially an aggregate of organic compounds wasted in their present form, masquerading as an incompetent excuse for a medical examiner, and Starfleet would be much improved by your absence.

::The Vulcan then turned and departed, headed the same way the Bynars had gone, minutes earlier.::

::Fargit, for his part, smiled, then spoke under his breath.::

Fargit: Sweet-talker.

Lieutenant Commander Solok
Acting Chief Medical Officer
Starbase 118 Ops

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