Refamiliarisation after maintenance will take some weeks. We spend some time together after duty, in Room with a View. On one evening, we hear a thud and pressure-loss alarms; one of the docking bay access tubes has lost pressure, cause unknown, no casualties reported. With a bit more poking, this appears to have been an internal explosion.

Then we have an air quality alarm in the bar, and a hissing sound, a carbon monoxide alert – and someone sitting next to a metal briefcase falls over. There seem to be vent grilles in each end of the case… a bit of emergency sealant takes care of that.

Young examines the case: it seems quite crude, a couple of gas cylinders freshly painted black, a cylindrical manifold/mixer, and exhaust pipes.

The victim seems to have died, but not of CO. Patel takes the body to the medical section in case there’s some possibility of salvage.

Pointing sensors at the case reveals trace of CO, chlorine, and phosgene which may well be the product of the other two. There’s a hole in the mixer which implies some sort of activation system, and there’s a short piece of cord where the briefcase was lying.

Identification papers suggest that this is Thelma Smith, US citizenship, resident of New Deseret, and this is consistent with station security records. She commutes to work here as a life support technician. (Without her husband?)

Her VII has been wiped, and the body is put into nanostasis pending possible ghosting.

Captain Broome, head of the dockyard, convenes a working group with senior officers on scene and other relevant personnel. Smith travelled to the bar from the site of the explosion, so an attempt to poison one or more people in the bar seems likely. Perhaps even us?

Considering relations between Margaret and New Deseret, it seems impolitic for me to call the husband, so Broome contacts him; he seems quite surprised, but gives reluctant permission to ghost. He’s even more surprised by the circumstances.