After Away Team Debrief
Posted on Sat Jun 13th, 2026 @ 10:02pm by Captain M'Raz & Lieutenant Commander Jason Reeves & Lieutenant Tavin Suárez & Lieutenant H'iri & Lieutenant Aubrie Fox & Lieutenant Sera Tovan & Lieutenant Richard Pierce MD & Lieutenant JG Von Ressa & Ensign Kaelun Merak & Kenneth Hunt
2,897 words; about a 14 minute read
Mission:
Collating Data
Location: Conference Room | Bridge | USS Crazy Horse
Debrief, a policy that Raz preferred to reports sent along hours after the fact (and in one unfortunate case, a full twenty-four hours later), generally occurred after giving the away team time for after mission actions such as the doctor's autopsy and security returning their weapons to the armory. So, he summoned the team and the department heads to the Conference Room and waited, mug of coffee at hand, at the head of the table for their arrival.
Jason entered the conference room, quickly realizing that he was the first of the senior staff to arrive. A PADD in one hand, and cup of coffee in the other. He immediately took his usual seat next to the Captain. It was a bit obvious that the Commander didn't get much sleep the night prior. What he saw on that station brought back several bad memories from the war with the Cardassians. "Captain."
"Commander," Raz replied with a slight nod. He waited a moment, wondering if there would be followup and then, hearing nothing, returned his attention to the PADD he'd been reading.
Cadet Hunt was the next to enter the room, he left his quarters early with the intent on not bring the last one to show up. But before arriving to the room, he realized that he didn't actually want to be the first in the conference room. So, he hung back until he saw the First Officer show and walk into the conference. Kenneth, then proceeded the conference room. "Good morning, Captain, Commander." The young man looked at the table, that seemed so long and honestly had no clue where to sit. Not wanting to make the mistake of sitting in someone seat, he simply moved to the corner and stood.
H'iri entered the room, giving a casual glance over at Raz. She simply said, "Captain" and took a seat next to Jason.
Lieutenant Von Ressa entered the conference room with her usual measured stride, a PADD tucked under one arm. Her expression was controlled, professional, but there was a tightness around her eyes that spoke to the weight of what they'd found on the outpost. She nodded to the Captain and Commander before taking a seat.
"Captain," she said simply, setting her PADD on the table. Her mind was still turning over the evidence—the atmospheric data, the access logs, the systematic way the attackers had gone after Borg intelligence. The brutality of the executions bothered her less than it should have, perhaps. She'd seen worse growing up. But the purpose behind it—that's what gnawed at her. Who needed Borg intelligence badly enough to kill an entire outpost crew for it? And what were they planning to do with that information?
She glanced at Cadet Hunt standing awkwardly in the corner and gestured to an empty chair. "Sit, Cadet. You were part of the away team."
"Thank you," Kenneth replied as he sat down in the seat that was offered to him.
Ensign Kaelun Merak entered the conference room last, moving more slowly than usual. He looked exhausted—dark circles under his eyes suggested he hadn't slept well, if at all. The scene in the cargo hold had brought back too many memories from the evacuation on board the USS Portland**. Different kind of death, different circumstances, but the same underlying reality: people dying violently while he watched, helpless to stop it.
He nodded to the Captain and took a seat, setting his PADD down with hands that weren't entirely steady. "Captain," Ensign Merak said quietly.
Kaelun's mind kept replaying the moment the cargo hold doors had opened. The bodies. The restraints. The evidence of torture and execution. On the Portland, people had transformed into something inhuman. Here, someone had shown how inhuman they could be while remaining entirely themselves.
He took a breath, trying to center himself, and waited for the debriefing to begin.
"I want to know what happened on the outpost," Raz said, "but rather than conjecture, let's start with the facts as we know them."
Ensign Merak forced himself to focus, pushing down the images that kept trying to surface. He was a science officer. He had data. He could present data.
"From a scientific standpoint, Captain," he began, his voice steadier than he felt, "The atmospheric recyclers captured particulate data showing at least four non-crew biological signatures present during the estimated time of death. The particulate composition includes trace elements not consistent with standard humanoid respiration—though I'll need more time to cross-reference against known species profiles to identify what we're dealing with."
Lieutenant Von leaned forward. "From a forensic perspective, Captain, Commander Reeves' initial scans showed all victims were killed by bladed weapons rather than energy weapons. Time of death is approximately two to three days ago, with all deaths occurring within a fifteen to twenty-minute window based on cellular degradation patterns."
She tapped her PADD. "The two victims restrained to chairs show signs of prolonged contact—rope burns, pressure marks—suggesting they were held for some time, possibly interrogated. The others show no defensive wounds, which indicates they were either overwhelmed quickly or killed while already incapacitated."
Reeves looked over the information. "Four individuals taking the outpost and doing all of this indicates highly skilled individuals. Not to mention that technique they used. Not to mention they knew exactly where to hit us for the intel intelligence information."
Raz slanted a glance at his First Officer, "Facts first. We'll get to the conjecture in a moment." He turned toward his department heads. "What else do we know?"
Popeye entered the briefing roomjust as Raz asked What else do we know, a fresh cup of coffee in hand and a PADD tucked under his arm.
“Medical findings, Captain,” he said as he walked in, voice even and clinical.
“All victims were alive for the majority of the injuries inflicted. There is clear evidence of controlled trauma—cuts made to avoid major vessels, fractures set and then re-broken, stress injuries consistent with restraint and prolonged positioning.” He tapped his PADD, bringing up scans. “Pain was the objective. Death was secondary.”
He glanced briefly toward Ensign Merak, then back to Raz.
“Cause of death varies—exsanguination in two cases, organ failure in another, and acute neurogenic shock in the last—but the timing aligns with Lieutenant Von Ressa’s assessment. All deaths occurred within a very narrow window after a longer period of captivity.”
Popeye folded his hands on the table.
“There are no signs of assimilation, implants, nanoprobes, or post-mortem harvesting. Medically speaking, this was not Borg. Whoever did this wanted information—or compliance—and once they had what they wanted, they ended it quickly.” His gaze hardened slightly. “This was methodical, practiced, and intentional. These weren’t killings of opportunity. They were executions following interrogation.”
He inclined his head toward the Captain. “That’s everything medical can confirm without stepping into speculation.”
"How many were killed by these bladed weapons as opposed to other means of ... torture," Raz asked.
H'iri listened carefully to everything that was being said. Why would anyone want to torture people here? What information did they think they had and why was it desired?
Popeye lifted his eyes from the PADD, answering without hesitation. “All of them, Captain,” he said evenly. “The blades were the final cause of death in every case.” He shifted the display slightly, clarifying.
“The torture inflicted beforehand—fractures, nerve damage, controlled blood loss—was non-lethal by design. It weakened them, broke resistance, but it wasn’t meant to kill. Each victim was ultimately finished with a precise bladed strike once they were no longer of use.”
His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
“That tells us two things medically: first, whoever did this was disciplined enough to stop short during interrogation. Second, they chose to end it personally.”
He looked back to Raz.
“This wasn’t chaos. It was control—right up to the last cut.”
"So you've said, Doctor," Raz said, "thank you." He paused a moment, gathering his thoughts. "The question on my mind is why come after an Intel outpost. And what did they need from those that worked there that couldn't be gleaned just be downloading the database."
Ensign Merak sat very still, his hands folded on the table in front of him, knuckles white. He stared at the PADD without really seeing it as Doctor Popeye described the methodical torture, the controlled trauma, the precision of it all.
His mind flashed unwillingly to the Portland. To the three people transforming in sickbay, their humanity stripped away by nanoprobes and machinery. That had been horror, but it had been... impersonal. A process. A disease.
This was different. This was someone choosing to inflict suffering. Someone breaking bones, reopening wounds, keeping victims alive through agony just to extract information they wanted. And then, when they had what they needed, ending it with a blade.
Kaelun's throat felt tight. He'd thought he understood cruelty after Earth. After watching people become Borg. But this was a different kind of darkness—one that came from beings who remained entirely, terribly sentient while they did it.
Lieutenant Von listened to the medical report with a face carved from stone, but inside, old wounds were reopening.
She'd heard those words before. Not in a Starfleet briefing room, but whispered in the refugee camps. Stories from Bajor. Stories about what happened when the Cardassians wanted information and didn't care how they got it.
Fractures set and then re-broken. That was a signature technique—breaking the same bone multiple times to maximize pain while keeping the victim conscious. The Cardassian Obsidian Order had perfected it. So had others. Whoever had done this knew exactly what they were doing. This wasn't amateur brutality. This was professional interrogation taken to its darkest extreme.
And the Captain was right—why torture outpost personnel when you could just download the database? Unless the information they wanted wasn't in the database. Unless they needed access codes, encryption keys, verbal intelligence that existed only in the minds of the crew.
Simply observing the senior staff trying to make sense of this mystery. The Cadet sat silently wondering what the Captain's next steps would be. The image of the crew on that station would be something that would likely remain on his mind for the rest of his life. He wanted the ask a question but felt it best to stay quiet. Being in the room alone was an experience for him.
The briefing room door hissed open and Lieutenant Sera Tovan entered quickly, her auburn hair slightly disheveled from where strands had escaped her braid. Her engineering uniform showed fresh scorch marks on one sleeve, and there was a smudge of what looked like plasma coolant on her collar.
The moment she crossed the threshold, she felt it—a thick, oppressive weight of emotion that hit her like a physical force. Anger. Disgust. Fear. Trauma. Her damaged telepathic abilities couldn't give her thoughts or clear impressions, but the emotional atmosphere in the room was overwhelming even through her fragmented empathic sense.
"Apologies for the delay, Captain," she said, her hazel eyes sweeping across the faces at the table as she moved to take a seat. "We had a minor plasma leak in the port nacelle coupling—secondary EPS conduit developed a micro-fracture. I stayed to make sure the repair held under load before I felt comfortable leaving Engineering."
She remained silent, waiting to be brought up to speed, though part of her already dreaded what she was about to hear.
"Aah, Lieutenant Tovan," Erik said as he took note of the new arrival. "The Chief wasn't available, I take it?"
Lieutenant Sera Tovan hesitated for just a fraction of a second, choosing her words carefully. "I... wasn't been able to reach the Chief," she said honestly. "I left messages, but given the plasma leak situation, I made the call to secure Engineering first and respond to the briefing summons myself rather than delay further trying to track him down." She said, choosing not to go into too much detail.
"I see, well, please, have a seat," Raz said. "I was wondering if there was there any evidence that the station databases were accessed? Downloaded?"
Lieutenant Von Ressa looked up from her PADD. "Yes, Commander. The station's security logs show multiple classified files were accessed approximately two and a half days ago—all of them related to the Borg. Threat assessments, engagement reports, tactical analysis from Earth and Arcturus."
Raz turned toward the Lieutenant, his gray eyes turning stormy, at the slight. He made a mental note to decide later whether to address it privately or not.
She tapped her screen. "The higher-level intelligence files required Intel credentials to view the actual content, but the access logs are clear. Four individuals beamed in unauthorized, went straight for the intelligence database, and systematically pulled everything related to the Borg before..." She paused briefly. "Before the crew was killed."
"Now that is odd," Raz growled. "They knew how to get into the database, got what they wanted, and then ... went after the crew? What could they have provided. Everything that comes into an outpost is logged into the database. Or am I mistaken?" He looked around the briefing room. "Connect us up with Suarez. I want to know what he found."
H'iri immediately took action. She tapped her commbadge and said, =^= Lieutenant Suarez, please respond. The Captain wishes to speak with you immediately. =^=
"On my way," replied Suárez. He quickly made his way across the bridge and into the Conference Room. "I do not wish to speculate, Captain," Suárez said cautiously. "To me what we found says this was not entirely about the database, with the aspect of torture, we could either be looking at information that is not in the database, or we stumbled across a deliberate message to someone."
Lieutenant Suárez looked at the Captain. "I am still working through all the information from the database, Sir. There are files within it that are heavily encrypted, and I've already come across some bobby traps within the coding. Fortunately, we haven't triggered any, but we are operating with surgical precision."
"We are making progress though," he reassured the Captain. "I will burn the midnight oil and get everything I can, but I was running through personnel files and came across a potential point of interest. May be nothing, could be something. One of crew of the outpost has familial ties to someone, a genius type with potential ties to some projects. The kind we don't know anything about."
"Will you need help with the encryption?" Erik asked. "I'm sure we have someone here," he gestured toward his senior staff, "who could be of service."
H'iri spoke up, "I probably could assist." She looked at Erik as she gave him the look of "I'm Chief of Ops."
Raz turned his attention toward H'iri and nodded, his voice softening as he spoke. "That's a good idea. Work with Suarez, see what you can do with that database. In the meantime," he turned toward his Acting Chief of Security, "I want you to work on finding out something about the outpost's staff and just who's connected to whom. I know that will be somewhat difficult since we can't access the entirety of the Federation database but see what you can do."
The Caitian Operations Officer stretched her claws and interlocked them behind her head. "I'll give it everything I got."
"I certainly echo that sentiment," replied Suarez.
Lieutenant Von nodded sharply. "Understood, Captain. I'll start with personnel files and communication logs—see who they were in contact with, any personal connections that might explain why this specific outpost was targeted."
She glanced at her PADD, already mentally organizing the investigation. "If they were tortured for information that wasn't in the database, someone knew these specific individuals had access to something valuable. I'll find the connection."
"And Lieutenant Tovan, could you and the Chief join me in my office? I'd like an update on what's going on."
Lieutenant Tovan felt a few choice words flash through her mind—words she'd learned in her years working merchant freighters and Starfleet engine rooms—but kept her expression neutral and professional.
"Yes, sir," she said simply, gathering her PADD and rising from her seat.
She still hadn't been able to reach the Chief, and now the Captain wanted both of them in his office. The emotional undercurrent in the room told her this briefing had covered something deeply disturbing, and the last thing she wanted to do was make the Chief's unexplained absence look worse by offering excuses or speculation.
Reeves looked over to the Captain, leaned in closer and whispered. "Perhaps we should conclude and find out what's happening with the Chief?"
"Thus, the reason, I've asked them both to join me in my Ready Room," Raz said quietly. And then to the assembled officers, he said, "Thank you all. Dismissed."
Captain M'Raz
Commanding Officer
USS Crazy Horse
Lt. Cmdr. Jason Reeves
First Officer
USS Crazy Horse
Lieutenant JG Von Ressa
Security/Tactical Chief
USS Crazy Horse
Lieutenant H'iri
Chief of Operations
USS Crazy Horse
Ensign Kaelum Merak
Chief Science Officer
USS Crazy Horse
Lieutenant JG Diana Morrison
Counselor
USS Crazy Horse
Lieutenant Tavin Suarez
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Crazy Horse
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