What constitutes “work” for the 815 in these more garrison-focused times is markedly different from the last few years, but in a good way for Rav-Samal Luis Stanhill. Preparations and drilling for yet another foray into Imperial-controlled territory has been replaced with drilling fundamentals, testing new gear, and getting caught up with the goings-on in the galaxy at large, both open and covert. Get up, work out, shower in the annex, train and read, go home. It feels incredibly familiar to the time at Mesas Negras before the Gateway was opened, despite the shift in location lightyears distant, and that’s a very welcome change of pace for a man looking to finally get to the “settle down” part of getting married and settling down.

That doesn’t mean that work stops once he’s home, though. The same drive to stay plugged in that made Luis a good member of Special Forces just has a lot more to work with these days, which means over dinner, Luis and Arketta are watching the various announcements of the renegotiated and finally codified declarations of strategic partnership between the Narsai’i, Sheen, Wherren, and Bashakra’i. The Sheen, of course, have no need for grandstanding and so have not made anything for consumption outside the dataspace - Flynn said it was just the agreement and the experience download from the Ambassador of how it all went down. The Sheen actually went through the effort of miming a yawn in its cat-sized shell when describing it. The Wherren take focused on the impending proper foundation of a Wherren military and government and recruiting for the same. It sounds like linking the villages together into something resembling an actual nation and providing the services and connections to feel like one people is their #1 focus for the time being. Brinai’s announcement was short and sweet, and she managed to mostly contain her contempt for the entire process. She congratulated the Bashakra’i on their resilience and perseverance, spoke about how they are now in position to finally go on the offensive, and mentioned that now that a few worlds with real populations have started to come under their umbrella, they must both keep Bashakra in mind while fight for the rights of the whole galaxy. How things might change as more worlds join the fight is noticeably left hanging for Luis.

Finally, the Narsai’i. Honestly, this one is the most boring and predictable, and Luis is barely paying attention when Arketta bumps her shoulder into his. “We’d better get going soon,” she says. “The ward meeting?” Getting involved in civics has taken on a new importance to both Luis and Arketta, what with Arketta taking on a proper part-time role with the Kansatai and a child on the way. Don and Martha Stanhill taught their son well about the importance of civic engagement, and that lesson still rings true.

Luis thinks the broadcast off and stands up, stretching briefly. "Yep. Let's get going."

It's a brief 10 minute ride on the transit to the local ward administration, a double-height section of units containing the offices of the ward administration on the upper level and the more public-facing help desks on the ground floor, plus a small 250 person hall for official functions such as this one. The hall is fairly functionary, with folding stadium seats mounted on a slight slope down towards the floor, where a dais stands before a five-person table. The walls are upholstered in carpeting to both deaden sound and at least slightly hide the fact that this was almost certainly built in what used to be a machine shop of some kind in this piece of the worldship's previous life.

A tap of a vox (or in Luis' case, a wave of a hand to briefly connect his internal vox with the kiosk) downloads the meeting agenda, leading off with yet another discussion of permitting and expansion of the ward's renewal project. Part of an ongoing effort to attract more business to the ward (and hopefully start getting preferential status for new residents), the matter is of some heated debate because some board members and residents feel it crosses the line between "renewal" and "total redevelopment". Of particular contention is shifting some of the older housing sections into strictly commercial, an even more contentious issue than what Luis is used to as removing residential space on a worldship where housing near the main habitation sectors is at a premium means shifting more people out further away from where literally everything is.

The hall is about half-full between the people there to speak on various issues and ask for/demand support, but there's a snag - one of the council members, an older man named Kolon, has not yet shown up. One of the younger members, Abeis (who notably supports the redevelopment while Kolon does not), is trying to get the meeting started.
"We have a quorum, I don't know what we're waiting for," Abeis says. "Chairwoman Ieph, can we get this show started, please?"
"It is very unlike Kolon to be late," Hahani, another one of the council, says. "He sent me a message not a half-hour ago saying that he had some business to attend to but should be at the meeting on time."
"Regardless, he is not here," Abeis replies. "And there is no reason for delay, not with such an important issue ready to be voted on."
"Well, I would not be comfortable voting on this issue today without Kolon present," Hahani replies. "And I think Councilor Vakini feels the same, yes?" A woman at the end of the table nods. "We would vote to table the matter for a future meeting in this case."
Abeis throws his hands in the air. "For First's sake, we have been putting this matter off for months with delay and study after study and delay, let's just get on with it!"

Hahani has spent this time flipping through his vox. "Actually, I have not had any activity from Kolon's vox for a little while now, and I messaged him ten minutes ago to ask where he was. This is...unlike him."
Chairwoman Ieph, grateful for an excuse to change the topic, waves for one of the Kansatai at the back of the room to come forward. "Kansat, can you ask for a check-in on Councilor Kolon's residence? I think it's unlikely he is still there, but it's the best place we have to start. After that, how many Kansat can be spared for a search if he's not found?"
"Not many, Chairwoman, unfortunately," the Kansat says. "We're a bit short-staffed tonight."

Arketta sits up. "We can go!" she says. All eyes turn towards her. "Luis and I can help out, if you need, Kansat."

Luis sits up too and nods. "We were just here for the meeting, we're free tonight to help."

The Kansat officer looks at Luis and Arketta. "You can help with the search, Rav-Samals, I suppose. We have Kansat on duty that can check the hab."
"This isn't necessary if we just proceed," Abeis says.

"It's important to make sure he's all right," Luis says. "How do you want us to help?"

"On second thought, Rav-Samals, why don't you go check out the councilor's hab?" the Kansat officer says. "Don't want to cause a stir and you're both in civvies."

"Can-do," Luis says. "Send us the tac channel and the address?"

Arketta is already waving her fingers through her wrist holo to change to the ward Kansatai tactical channel as the Kansat officer flicks the channel info to Luis. "Do you need my crasher, Rav-Samal?" the Kansat officer asks Arketta, a bit of echo in Luis' head as both his ears and his internal vox pick up the officer's voice for a moment.
"No, I can stop by our hab and grab it and my sash on the way there," Arketta says as both she and Luis stand up to leave.
"Let us know what you find," Chairwoman Ieph calls from the stage.
"Yes, we're all apparently waiting to hear," Abeis sarcastically adds.

----

Arketta taps the sash twice to light it up as she and Luis approach Counselor Kolon's hab, hopping off the side of the local transit skimmer as it slows down to let them off. As they head down the footpath gallery into the hab block, Luis recognizes the shift in Arketta's stance - straighter, shoulders back and tense, hands already held in a low defensive posture. She's ready for anything.

The guarded and ready posture is justified when Kolon's hab comes into view around the corner, and the door is already slid open. The panel out front is smashed and hotwired with a length of scrap wire to boot.
"Kansat control, this is Kansat Quis, reporting breaking and entering at 18-20-7 Inota Adit, Counselor Kolon's residence," Arketta whispers into her vox. "Requesting backup. Rav-Samal Stanhill and I are entering to search and clear."

"Right behind you," Luis says, drawing his stinger to a ready position. "Should be a standard one-bedroom layout."

"Kansatai!" Arketta calls out as she leads the way with Luis right behind her, and if Luis were to prepare a hab to look "trashed" he couldn't do a better job than this. Furniture is turned over and broken, cushions are cut open, all the cabinets are slid open and their contents dumped on the floor. A mix of spray painted and lasered graffiti and gang tags adorn the walls, but no Councilor Kolon. What there is, though, is a blood trail leading towards the bedroom. Arketta looks back to Luis, her jaw set, and nods towards the door. "Councilor Kolon, are you in there?" she calls out, but no answer.

Two taps on the door panel and the bedroom door slides open - and there is Councilor Kolon, a bloody mess on his bed. Luis counts what looks like three or four stab wounds in his chest, which is covered in partially coagulated blood. "Fuck," Arketta curses, but moves to clear the room. "Lahna, go check the bathroom, I'll call this in."

It only takes Luis a moment to see there's nothing to be done for Kolon, and he nods. He sets up to clear the bathroom (the door a near-mirror of their own berth), and punches the door panel.

The door slides open to reveal a standard hab bathroom - white plastic walls, curtained-off corner for the shower, toilet in the other far corner, all in a room sealed off with a drain in the middle of the floor. The sink and mirror are right by the door, and laying in the bathroom sink is a big kitchen knife, handle wet but still covered in watered-down blood. Smeared dilute blood is all over the mirror and sink - someone very bloody was here and tried to clean themselves and the evidence up.

Luis carefully steps around the blood and water on the floor near the sink and checks the shower.

Nothing behind the shower curtain - and in fact, nothing in the rest of the bathroom. The off-white plastic walls are clean, and only the grip patterns near the sink have blood in their treads. There's a few drips on the sink left behind, but it seems like the killer cleaned up fast and didn't hang around to truly clean themselves off.

Luis nods, and leaves the mess by the sink for forensic scans to see if the killer messed up cleaning fast and left anything of their own in all of Kolon's blood and the water. He takes a note of the handle of the knife to see if it matches any of Kolon's kitchen set, and steps back out to the access to the bedroom.

"Bathroom is clear, probably weapon was left here," he tells Arketta. "Somebody cleaned up and left, probably in a hurry."

Arketta already has her stinger holstered at her hip. "Backup is on the way," she says as she looks around the trashed hab unit. "We should clear out and wait for the crime scene techs to show up."

Luis nods. "Right," he says, and leads the way out to the gallery.

It's not long before more uniformed Kansatai show up, and then Luis gets a front-row seat to the boring process of crime scene investigation - setting up traffic cordons to route people away from the scene, staging equipment and shelters for evidence to be brought out and properly catalogued, then once the actual technicians are suited up in full-body isolation suits (complete with little humming cooling fans), they step into the hab and start to catalogue the scene. Luis and Arketta, meanwhile, are catalogued themselves to eliminate any possible contamination. DNA and fingerprints are already on file and in fact encoded on their Bashakra'i ident cards, but hair must be combed, boots dusted, and clothes swept for any loose fibers or other possible contaminants.

As this process goes on, Luis watches first the body come out in a black rubber bag (which looks like it could have come out of Narsai'i storage), and then further evidence is collected while holo scans of the apartment are already being chewed over by a cogitator brought on scene. The cogitator quickly recognizes the tags on the walls of the apartment as belonging to a local gang - the Diazdaha (a kind of lizard-wolf beast). Murder is not exactly a common part of their repertoire, but it isn't unheard of either. Obvious places where valuables could have been kept have been smashed, and the techs conclude fairly quickly that the hab had been ransacked for valuables.

Finally, checking the hab's holodisplay finds something very interesting - an image of Counselor Kolon standing with his arm around a young man with fairly prominent tattoos and body mods, and four others crouched down low in front. Their stance matches their mods - low and predatory, ready to pounce, which goes well with their variations on long thick fur overtop large regular scales. Some of them have large yellow irises, and the one at the front of the group crouching down completes the look with a long stout muzzle - kinda like a lizard, kinda like a wolf.

Luis draws the attention of one of the techs, and nods at the display. "Do you have anything on who those are with the mods, particularly the one with Kolon? Family, child of a friend? Seems like maybe some connection there."