Vought didn’t normally run around the ship; not under normal circumstances at least, and whilst this was more of a jog than a run, the Captain of the USS Grus, was certainly not hanging about.  With both Devron and Tholakath in toe, he headed straight for the Bridge from the Transporter Pad; only pausing long enough to inform Doctor de Havilland there’d be a Staff Meeting in an hour’s time.

As the Lieutenant-Commander came onto the Bridge, Lieutenant Stuart swiftly eased herself out of the Captain’s chair and to the right. “Is there anything to report Lieutenant?”

“There’s a small Patrol Craft that been gradually creeping in our direct since you went planet side, Captain.” The Orion answered him.

“Does it pose any sort of threat?” The question was aimed in Ensign Tholakath’s direction, who was currently conferring with the female Bolian that was covering Tactical in his absence.

“We would more likely die of old age before that ships weaponry penetrated out shields, Sir.” The Cardassian replied.  “However I don’t believe engaging in combat is their aim.”

“Care to explain your thinking, Ensign?” Vought asked, interested in hearing what the officer had on his mind.

“It’s just that the location of that ship would put them in a position to pick up any transmission we sent back to base.” Tholakath informed him.

“He’s correct, Sir.” Ensign Cho, added in from Communications.  “They wouldn’t be able to listen to any secure channels, but they’d still know a message was sent.”

“They’re spooked about something.” Devron commented.

“Agreed, Number One.” Vought tapped the arm of his chair, lightly. “For now we act dumb, at least until I know what information the good doctor has.”

**********

Lieutenant-Commander Vought took his seat at the head of the conference table once everyone else he’d requested attend the meeting had arrived.  Taking a sip of his Raktajino, he placed the blur mug carrying the ships name and registration on one side and the silhouette of a Saber-Class starship on the other.

“So then doctor.” He began. “If we can start off with whatever it was you couldn’t tell me on the surface, and we’ll work from there?”

Doctor de Havilland nodded in response. “Well as you know I was allowed to witness the autopsy they performed on our unknown victim.”

“So they still don’t know who this person is?” Lieutenant Devron asked. “Or they just don’t want to tell us?”

“I would seriously consider it more likely the second option.” The Doctor continued on by describing what he was able to see; which in his opinion wasn’t much.  He kept the technical jargon to a minimum and left out the more gory details, but there was one small detail that had caught everyone’s attention.

“Can you run through that again?” Vought just wanted to make sure he’d heard right.

“The bullet, which was still lodged inside the man’s skull, had fins at the back.”

“You’re absolutely positive about that?”

“They didn’t think I’d notice, but I am 100% sure of what I witnessed.”

“That’s possible a guidable bullet.” Ensign Tholakath mused.

Vought looked at the Cardassian in disbelief. “Are you trying to say that the trajectory of that bullet could be altered after it was fired?”

“Yes, Sir.” Tholakath confirmed.  “You humans have developed some rather interesting weaponry and ways of killing each other, during your history.”

“Makes you wonder how we ever got this far.” Their Captain shook his head. “This sounds like a professional hit, and that just gives us even more questions.”

“So someone wanted to make very sure they didn’t miss their intended target.” Devron felt impressed and worried by that idea, and he could tell he wasn’t the only one sat around the table, who felt the same way.

“The other thing I don’t like; is the complete lack of response from anyone in the Planetary Government.”  Vought disclosed.  “I’ve had Ensign Cho trying to get hold of the Governor or any of her aids, but without much luck.”

“And they are expecting us to just fly away and let them handle everything/” Devron remarked.

“Without any clear proof of something going on; we may need to do just that.” The Lieutenant-Commanders comment brought a series of murmurs from around the table.

Vought wound up the meeting with a few more instructions to his senior staff; before setting the time of their departure, which would be in a little under two hours.  During that time the Patrol Craft would discreetly shadow the USS Grus’s every move.

**********

Lieutenant-Commander Vought didn’t like the idea of ordering the ship brake orbit, and more that the rest of his crew did.  Like them he’d rather be down on the surface, banging heads and taking names; in a purely diplomatic sense that it.

So far they had an unknown victim, shot and killed for whatever reason.  A far from cooperative Chief Constable, with a rather large police force under his command and the only person in any office capacity they’d been able talk with.

Then there was the cable that had started everything off.  Who was it that had sent them the message, regarding it being connected up to one of the cities generators?  Lemeer hadn’t liked the idea that they’d beamed down; without asking him first.  That rather gave the impression that the Chief Constable was running things, or at any rate liked to think he was.

They never got the opportunity to see where the cable went, or what it was helping to power.  It went through a small metal grate in the floor and into the Second City’s sewage system.

**********

Chief Constable Lemeer turned away from the monitoring station; happy that the Starfleet vessel above was now leaving orbit.  He turned towards a large broad shouldered man with close cropped hair and beard.  The man was dressed in full riot gear, with the helmet in his left hand.

“Sargent Magnusson, I want you and your team back down there immediately.” Lemeer barked.  “And absolutely no more slip ups, is that clear?”

“Yes Chief.” The Sargent gave a crisp salute and turned on his heels; marching double time out of the room.

Lemeer looked briefly back at the screen; watching the small amber coloured delta which marked the position of the Starfleet ship departing for deep space.  The Chief Constable hated delays, and this had been in his view an unnecessary one.

The smile on his face, was only there for the briefest of moments; before his demeanour returned to its more cold calculated look, and he headed back to his Office.