Outbreak: Training Edition - Part 2/5

Posted on Thu Jul 10th, 2025 @ 10:11pm by Lieutenant JG Lovisa Montague & Chief Warrant Officer Alexion Wylde & Civilian Verity Thorne & Lieutenant Astrid Nyx & Lieutenant Aristede Steele PsyD. & Crewman Mateo Gardel & Crewman Raine Ni-ya

1,986 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: To Boldly Go
Location: Holodeck 1
Timeline: Day 10 - after the crew board Fenrir

ON - CONTINUED:

The holographic sickbay materialized with a soft hum. The environment was meticulously crafted to mimic the real Fenrir medical bay, down to the faint scent of antiseptic in the air. A narrow beam of light pierced through the dimness, illuminating one of the medical beds around the periphery of the room. The bed's forcefield hummed softly with blue energy, signifying an active quarantine containment.

Astrid, now wearing her crisp blue medical coat over her uniform and an expression of intense concentration, stood beside the bed. Her eyes were fixed on the patient, a crewperson who lay still under the protective barrier. Then her gaze moved to another medical bed nearby, its forcefield also humming.

"Everyone, let’s start by assessing our immediate situation," Astrid said, her tone calm but firm. "In bed seven, we have our patient alpha, one of the Hegland's crew. We brought him on board yesterday in the strictest conditions of quarantine. So far, we haven't been able to identify the specific pathogen that's causing his illness, only that it works by quickly degrading the victim's neural tissues. However, that might be the least of our worries. That's because, just a half hour ago, another case appeared. This time, aboard our own ship. That's Lieutenant J.G. Veenhold, one of our medical staffers who was here when we beamed patient alpha aboard. We need to gather as much information as we can, quickly and safely.

"Chaplain Thorne and Lieutenant Steele," Astrid continued, turning to Verity and Aristede, "can you assist us by reviewing Lieutenant Veenhold's activities over the last twenty-four hours, including personal log entries? We need to establish a timeline of their last known activities."

"Of course," the Chaplain nodded gently, his smile easy and manner warm. It would be refreshing to be utilised beyond keeping patients calm. He looked across to Steele, nodding with assurance to him. Besides, it would be a chance to meet and work with his new Chief properly...but not under the pressure of real fire and brimstone.

"Let's start with his quarters, shall we," Aristede said as he gestured for the chaplain to join him.

"Alexion, I want you to take charge of a renewed battery of tests. We didn't get Patient Alpha until well into the disease progression. If we can better chart how this thing moves, maybe we can figure out a way to slow it down. Work with whomever you need. Meanwhile, I'll continue testing the samples we're beaming over from the Hegland, maybe something there will show itself."

"Understood, Doctor," Alexion gave a brief nod, but a note of interest stirred in the often cynical and world-weary man. He was usually front line trauma and treatment; being set to chronical testing was a welcome change of pace for a training exercise.

"And I need the science team working between things. You'll have the data I'm feeding in, but I want you to work with medical on figuring out how this thing functions and, more importantly, how the hell it broke quarantine. Engineering will be looking toward a technical fault, but maybe there's something here that we've overlooked." Her gaze crossed the faces of the science folks, including some of the junior crew.

Mateo shifted his weight slightly as Doctor Nyx assigned tasks, his dark eyes flicking briefly to the illuminated medical beds. The whole thing reeked of an engineered worst-case scenario—an infectious agent that disregarded containment protocols and jumped ships like a ghost in the machine. His mind ticked through possibilities: vector transmission, latent activation, maybe even an airborne mutation. Theories were easy. It was the gaps in data that made his fingers twitch against his forearm, itching to get his hands on real samples.

When the directive landed on Science’s shoulders, Mateo exhaled through his nose, a quiet sound of acknowledgment. He wasn’t the type to scramble for assignments or make a show of leadership. He preferred to find his niche in the workflow and operate at his own pace—usually just fast enough to stay ahead of people questioning his process.

“Right,” he murmured, glancing toward Raine, Lovisa, and the other scientists. “Let’s figure out if this thing plays by any rules before we start treating it like some ghost story.” His tone was dry, unimpressed, but the weight of his focus had sharpened. Theatrics aside, this was the kind of puzzle that could hold his attention.

His gaze flicked toward the forcefield surrounding the patient. “We need to go over Sickbay’s environmental logs—see if anything spiked before Veenhold got sick. Contaminants, pressure shifts, power fluctuations. If it breached containment, it left a fingerprint somewhere.” A pause. His fingers drummed idly against his bicep. “Unless it didn’t.”

That was the part that bugged him. There was always a path, a vector—airborne, fluid, physical contact. A way in. If the infection had spread without an obvious route, then they were missing something. Something big. And he didn’t like missing things.

For now, he needed data. Something concrete.

Lovisa nodded in agreement to him, concern on her usually gentle features, despite knowing it was all just a simulation. Her gaze went to the holographic patient laid out ready for the start of the action, but she saw a person. A vulnerable person, who was hurting. She clasped her hands behind her back, pulling her shoulders back and her arms taut to keep her focus. "Whatever you need."


Holographic Corridor

A quick consult with the computer led Aristede to Lieutenant Veenhold's quarters. Unlocked which was a bit of a surprise. Most officers kept their quarters locked. They entered a set of rooms that were organized to a degree that suggested a somewhat obsessive need for cleanliness and order, evidenced by hangars equidistantly spaced in the closet with clothing organized by type and then within that, by color. If it was in a drawer, it was folded and neatly arranged. And yet, Aristede's gaze was drawn to a soiled uniform lying on the floor and one drawer left slightly open. He stood at the foot of the bed, his head tilted slightly to one side, and then nodded. "What do think," he said to the Chaplain, "night stand or under the bed? His journal?"

"Well, journals are a little more unusual these days, compared to visual computer logs," Verity stood back as he cast his gaze around, also taken by just how ordered the place was. Sterile. Simplified and minimal. Perhaps Aristede was right, perhaps the written word was more likely in this man's case. Someone who showed this much control in their personal space would likely be just as protective when it came to keeping a log. "If I had to put money on it, I'd say the nightstand."

While he waited for the chaplain's response, Aristede's gaze strayed back to the dirty clothes left on the floor. Very atypical of Veenhold to have left them there when quite literally everything else about his quarters screamed compulsively tidy. Equidistant hangars in his closet? Who does that? Unless it was basic training. Everyone does it then.

Nodding, in response to the chaplain's comment, Aristede began to search and found it at last in neither place but lying on the floor in the closet. He dropped to the floor and sat there, looking at the neatly penned entries, and then noticed the break. A few days when he didn't write and then the confused entry that followed. "I think I found something," he said as he surged to his feet. "We should get back and let the others know."

Verity nodded with mild distraction as he scrolled through the food replicator logs. He'd always thought that the way a person ate and drank could say a lot. About them, their routines, their needs, what was important to them. "The same breakfast everyday, porridge...lunch is always a sandwich of some kind, so both were always eaten here...but no dinners. And...nothing in the last day..."


Holographic Sickbay

Raine looked at Mateo before she gave a small nod. If anything, she looked...blank. Maybe a little bored. Mostly, just like she wasn't attached to it. In her mind though, she was working on the problem. There was information they'd need, movements, what biofilters had been applied. Transmission vectors were a whole different thing. And there were the genetics. You could use viruses to target specific genetics, like a genebomb. "Only two infected so far, on different ships. We need to look why these two specifically. Other people would have been exposed too, in theory." She paused, realising she wasn't explaining it well. "Why are these two the only two with symptoms so far. Are they genetically similar beyond species?"

Mateo’s fingers stopped their quiet tapping against his bicep as Raine spoke. His gaze flicked toward her, not with skepticism, but with that sharp, measuring look he got when something clicked into place.

“Genetic predisposition?” he echoed, voice low but considering. His brows pulled together slightly, thoughtful rather than doubtful. “Maybe. But two isolated cases with no widespread secondary infections? Feels a little too clean.” He glanced at the patient behind the forcefield, then back to Raine.

He shifted his weight, the faintest spark of curiosity creeping into his expression. “If it’s genetic, we need to compare medical histories, ancestry markers, immune system baselines—see if they’ve got anything rare in common. But if it’s not?” He tilted his head slightly. “Then we’re looking at selective exposure. Something they did. Something they touched. Something no one else did.”

A slow exhale through his nose. Now it was interesting.

"One at the time, or all at once?" Raine asked as she looked at him and then at Lovisa, as the ranking scientist. It was a question if they split their resources, or threw it all into one of the hypotheticals and worked from there. She had her own ideas yet kept them close to her chest. It was easier that way, since then no one was disappointed.

Mateo didn’t answer Raine immediately. Instead, he moved toward one of Sickbay’s console terminals, fingers flying across the interface as he pulled up the environmental logs he’d suggested earlier. His brows knitted together slightly, his posture shifting into something more engaged, more focused. Whatever lingering indifference he’d projected before had been replaced with the quiet intensity of someone working through a problem from the inside out.

“Let’s split it,” he said finally, not looking up from the screen as he navigated through quarantine protocols and atmospheric readouts. “I’ll start with environmental and biofilter data—see if anything slipped past decontamination that shouldn’t have. Raine, dig into medical records for both cases. Cross-check genetic markers, immune history, rare conditions—anything that could point to predisposition.”

His fingers stilled for half a second before resuming. It was a long shot, but it was worth ruling out.

“Lovisa,” he continued, finally glancing up. “Let’s run a comparative analysis on their recent activities. Who they interacted with, where they were stationed, what they handled. If this isn’t genetic, then something external linked them. We need to find it.”

Satisfied, Mateo exhaled softly and turned his attention fully to the console, his gaze sharp and unyielding as he combed through the data. One of these systems was lying. He just had to figure out which one.

TBC:


Lieutenant Astrid Nyx
Chief Medical Officer
USS Fenrir

Crewman Mateo Gardel
Medical Science Specialist
USS Fenrir

Verity Thorne
Chaplain
USS Fenrir
(PNPC - Blake)

Lieutenant Aristede Steele
Chief Counsellor
USS Fenrir

Dr. Alexion Wylde
Medical
USS Fenrir
(PNPC - Blake)

Lieutenant JG Lovisa Montague
Science Officer
USS Fenrir
(PNPC - Blake)

Crewman Raine Ni-ya
Science
USS Fenrir
(PNPC - Hanlon)

 

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