Chapter Text
Arada sat forward and clenched her fists. “No, no, check his medical records! Engineer Luskofin couldn’t have sabotaged the warp controls because he was in medical due to thriftberry poisoning!”
Bharadwaj grinned at her enthusiasm. “Doctor Cogsgriffith thinks he was already recovered though. Remember how Cogsgriffith discharged him but then got called away and never found out how he collapsed in the hallway?”
“I haven’t forgotten! Cogsgriffith really should have done a genetic panel before discharge! So sloppy.”
“It’s understandable though. Cogsgriffith was handling the influx of burn injuries from the explosion which also damaged some of the portable scanners, not to mention that recent blow to her head… no, don’t arrest him!”
“The Captain will check all the details later and find the discrepancy.”
“Yes but I don’t want Flight Officer Kogi to lose a friend! They only just met and Luskofin might not even want to stay on the ship after being accused of sabotage.”
“Poor Kogi! He feels so betrayed.”
The credits rolled.
“Do you want to watch another?” Bharadwaj asked.
Arada shook her head. “Don’t wait on me if you want to keep going though. It’s funnier when you summarize the episodes I miss.”
“I don’t know how you keep track of it all without even watching! I’ve been taking notes and you still call the plot twists before me.”
Arada grinned. “I have a sister who loves CR media. You start to see patterns after a while.”
“Someday I’m going to make you sit down with me and analyze an episode in detail.”
They hugged and Arada went back to her data analysis. Unlike Bharadwaj, most of Arada’s data had survived. Bharadwaj had stored her own data in the Hab, while Arada had kept most of hers in a collection of portable data pads, most of which she left in the hopper. Bharadwaj used to tease her about how disorganized she was, but that habit had saved a great deal of her data, while GrayCris had wiped nearly everything Bharadwaj had collected.
(Her mind flashed back to Gurathin promising her they would get more data. At the time, she’d been near tears. How could she have hesitated over data at a time like that! And yet even now the lost data felt like a missing tooth she kept wanting to wiggle.)
She kept trying to see Sanctuary Moon through SecUnit’s eyes. Why this show and not some other? She didn’t know it well enough to guess. She also began reading media analysis books. At some point she expanded her selections, continuing to focus on the dramatic, the larger than life, the deliberately unreal.
Bharadwaj watched documentaries as well. She began to pick up a sense of the structure, the way the camera or voice over would tease information and manage tension as a tool to make the viewer understand. It could be manipulative, but a documentary with no pacing was a documentary that no one could absorb or remember.
Maybe she’d try her hand at it once she got back.
That night she heard Arada crying. Bharadwaj went to check on her.
“I just miss them so much and I keep thinking I should have stayed.”
“I know, honey.” Bharadwaj pulled her close and shed a few tears of her own. She struggled with the same feelings, and Arada had left a marital partner as well as dear friends behind.
Arada cried so hard it left Bharadwaj worried. She pushed a bottle of water at Arada and made her drink it and wash her face. They shared a bed that night, just for company. After that, Arada came to join her some nights.
The trip seemed to last forever, and then suddenly it was over. Suddenly instead of one friend, she had many friends, acquaintances, and near-strangers surrounding her. She had data to deliver. She had the task of making the Council understand. Bharadwaj resolved to find her focus again. She had work to do.
#
The Preservation Council briefings tried both their patience. The Council members listened attentively to Bharadwaj and Arada’s reports, but somehow some members couldn’t absorb key points. Bharadwaj found herself making the same observations repeatedly as her patience and temper frayed. Finally Arada told her privately, “We need to show them DeltFall.”
Of course. As soon as she said it, Bharadwaj understood. The murder of an entire survey team for profit was so far outside the Council’s experience that they were struggling to absorb the gravity of the situation.
“I’ll put something together. I was there with Mensah when the company collected the remains, so I know what I want to show them.” It hadn’t been pleasant, but they’d been worried the company would tamper with the scene. It was possible that whoever took the original bribe to allow GrayCris on the planet might also pay off the rescue ship staff to obscure the truth.
“I’ll help,” Arada said, but it was obvious how much the mere thought of it distressed her.
Bharadwaj lay a hand on her arm. “It’s all right. Leave this bit to me.”
“You were so brave,” she said miserably. “I should have come to observe with you but I was too scared. I’ll help you now though. You shouldn’t have to do this alone.”
Bharadwaj shook her head. “This won’t be pleasant, but I can get through it. You know, in a way, observing the collection felt good. It felt like the one thing I could do for DeltFall, since we couldn’t save them. At least I could make sure the truth of their deaths was known.”
“I just feel so worthless. I couldn’t help you then and now I can’t even do this.”
“Honey, no. You looked after me all the way home, even though you were struggling yourself. Don’t think I didn’t notice!”
“All I did was watch media with you.”
“You made me laugh, and that’s what I needed most.”
“You’ll tell me though, if it’s too much?”
“I promise.”
Bharadwaj hadn’t ever edited video before. She gave herself a crash course in the absolute basics. This didn’t have to be fancy.
#
“There’s something I need you to see,” Bharadwaj told the Council. “I know it will be distressing. I’m asking you not to look away.”
She explained the concerns about tampering with the scene which had led to Mensah’s insistence on herself and Bharadwaj being present as witnesses. Then she began to play her video.
It started with a simple circuit of the bodies to record where they had died and what state they were in. The company had done the same thing. Bharadwaj heard stifled exclamations and shocked noises. She checked their faces. They were watching as she’d asked, though some of them had their faces screwed up and clearly found it hard.
She kept the playback speed at a decent clip. What she wanted to show them most wasn’t how the bodies lay sprawled and dead, or even the poignancy of the two who had been sitting down together for a meal when they were shot. She wanted to show them the company in action. Their allies, who the Council seemed to think they could trust and rely on.
Next the company personnel collected hair and skin samples. Then they moved the bodies to photograph them from other angles. Bharadwaj moved quickly through these tasks.
And then the signal went out to remove the remains. The company employees grabbed them with all the reverence one would assign to grabbing a stray bit of trash. As if these people were nothing and no one. Then they were shoved two and three at a time into oversized bags.
“We have an agreement that if anyone passes away during a survey, the remains will be returned to the family,” a Council member said, clearly disturbed.
Bharadwaj didn’t even try to hide the bitterness in her response. “All DeltFall survey members were cremated as a group and then the mixed ashes split up, each family receiving a portion. It turns out the offer to return the remains doesn’t include a commitment to keep them separate.”
The company had mingled the remains to save the price of a body bag. The meeting broke down a bit at that point, as the Council members dealt with the shock and horror of that.
Arada came over and watched Sanctuary Moon with her after her report. It didn’t stop her from having nightmares that night but it did help. And at least various Council members stopped insisting that everything would work out and the company would handle it all.
And then Bharadwaj just had to wait.