The Arrival
You finally arrive on the Intergalactic Prison scene in the afternoon and feel the cold latch itself onto you. Trembling, you try to maintain a thorough and composed attitude as the wind penetrates your overcoat. They say you’ll get used to the cold, as it’s seemingly like this every day, but you certainly have your doubts. You clutch your case files under your arm; you had read them all in the car, personnel files on almost everyone in the prison. You were given the case files and the location assignment and that was it; no one told you officially what the case was on. You assumed something bad happened if they needed you as soon as they did.
As you approach the large forcefield gates, you notice the insulated walkway that leads you to a structure that is surrounded by nothing but barren emptiness. Zero life could be seen for miles on end. The prison was placed on an island surrounded by a watery abyss. The thought of how isolated you are here sends yet another chill down your spine.
You have no idea what you are in for. You are nothing more than a rookie. Agent Miles West, the new guy no one wants to work with. Only been on one case before. No agent would like to work with you, let alone your new partner, a decorated senior field agent whose last case made him notorious within the Intergalactic Federal Agency. Maybe they think you'll get him back on track.
You did your research on your new partner, though. Jonathan “Jack” Bartelle, aged 57 years, with 25 of them being within the IFA. A top-of-his-class recruit, including one of the best performances on the IFA skills exam coming out of the academy. To put it frankly, Bartelle knew his shit, and he was not one to let things slip through the cracks.
But he did just that, in a literal sense, no more than a few months back. You recall the sensation you felt as you clicked on the case file that had multiple “CONFIDENTIAL” warnings on it. Mr. Nice Guy, that was the nickname of the infamous serial killer on Planet X whom agents had guided into a construction zone at the IFA facility, where he was able to literally slip through the cracks of the flooring after the veteran field agent made a turn he's made thousands of times in his 25 years of service, but it was the first time he wasn't supposed to make it. Mr. Nice Guy made it into the underground tunnels that are meant for the safe escape of VIPs in an emergency. But in this case, the tunnels turned into the perfect escape route for the planet’s most wanted.
There he stands. Agent Bartelle's tall and scrawny figure shows its age as his skin is beginning to sag and droop. His hair is bright silver, and as he walks towards you, he appears to have a limp as he favors his left foot. He pushes his sunglasses up over his forehead and stares you dead in the eyes. You can feel the sweat beginning to form on your brow despite the ridiculously cold temperatures.
"Neat, isn't it?" Agent Bartelle asks.
"Huh?" confused, you utter.
"This." He motions with his hands. "A prison surrounded by water; a substance that can easily kill a large percentage of us Xers. The best place to house those nasty little buggers." He begins speaking into the intercom system to a guard on the inside.
Chuckling again at his previous comment, Bartelle turns to face you; however, before he can continue, the gates open and the two of you step inside. You are grateful for the break from the cold.
“Miles West, I'm Jack Bartelle,” he states.
“Hello, Sir,” you respond.
“You ready?”
That is it. There is no hello, no handshake, just a snappy greeting, and a question. You remember that you aren't sure what the matter of the case is, and you wonder if Agent Bartelle knows either.
You clear your throat as you look at your surroundings in the tunnel. Glass covers the walls and ceiling, and the ground is cement. Heat pumps in from the vents that are placed along the length of the walkway. A sign directs you forward to the prison front yard and then to the front desk for check-in.
"Agent Bartelle?" you ask in a small voice.
"Call me Jack, Rook."
You nod and continue, "What exactly happened here?"
He turns to you again before he starts walking and talking. "Warden was whacked this morning. Killed by his own allergic reaction to water."
You take a moment to appreciate the fact that you're one of the small percentage of Xers who don't have a water allergy. You've heard it's a nasty way to go. "How are we sure it's murder?"
"The warden never kept water near him like most Xers, clearly nervous that someone would use his weakness against him." He picks up his pace — you follow. "Also, he has fresh bruises around his neck, like someone put him in a headlock before dousing him with water."
You notice that his speed is quick despite that limp that seems to bother him. He clearly is a man on a mission, and while you question whether or not you would simply be in his way, you know that you have to participate in this case. It's time for you to prove yourself as a valuable asset to the agency. It's time to prove that you belong.
You hastily follow with the large stack of personnel files tucked under your arm. Quickly trailing after Jack, you finally see the front of the prison through the glass walkway, a massively strengthened gate with a dozen sentinels stationed around it. You reach the end of your walk and stand at the front of this large entrance. A guard immediately lets you and Jack in and takes you to the crime scene in the prison front yard; as soon as the guard lifts the cover from the body, you take a deep breath in. It is worse than you had anticipated.
The prison's warden lays lifeless on the cold cement, grasping their neck as if they were strangling themself. Their eyes, like black holes in their swollen lifeless face, and what little skin is showing on the rest of their body is covered in giant, purple hives. The residue of the murder weapon lays waste in a small puddle next to the victim—water.
“I see the murder weapon was left on scene,” Bartelle states as he rests his hands on his hips and shifts his weight to his right foot.
“Yessir,” a guard who introduced himself as Daldein Steil responds. He has a large scorpion-like tail and other insect-like features. “Was a pretty sneaky attack given the difficult weapon of choice.”
“Either the killer is an immune species or Xer, or they were very careful,” you state. Bartelle gives you a glare, but something in his eyes seems reassuring. You feel good about yourself after making your first observation.
“There really wasn’t a whole lot of time for the killer to be careful,” the guard advises as you continue to take in the scene with a keen eye. “The murder occurred during a power outage. We were in the middle of a prisoner release when the power went out. By the time the power generators were back he was laying here.”
“Did you execute proper hazardous materials protocol?” you ask quickly to ensure all rules were followed appropriately. This time, Bartelle’s glare is not so reassuring.
“Yes,” Daldein states with a sigh. "As soon as we were aware of the water, we followed the protocols exactly: set up the perimeter, neutralized the substance, and ensured the safety of those surrounding the scene.”
You nod your head and rest assured that the proper protocols were followed, lest other incidents may happen.
“No security footage to go off of either I take it?” Bartelle inquires as he looks at the cameras positioned in the corners of the room.
“No sir,” Daldein says. “However, with the transfer near the lunch hour, I’d say you have your fair share of witnesses.”
“Well then,” Bartelle says as he looks over to you and nods. “Let’s get to work.”