Season 17: Episode 1: Step Into My Parlor

[James Ramort]

[USS Discovery | Deck 1 | Bridge]

The door of the lifts opened with a silent wush before him. Hydraulic systems releasing their pressure working as intended. Fully able to seal the doors in case of a loss of power or atmosphere.

Since getting the news of his promotion, he had begun to notice these small details about the ship. His mind keeping a running list of details and constantly checking for things he had missed. The new responsibility that had been placed on him, a constant thought in the back of his mind.

The Bridge was filled with Officers and specialists from various departments. A routine working flawlessly. A slight feeling of pride was blooming in his chest. After all the upheaval of the last months, he was happy to see they still were able to hold onto their mission.

Walking past the stations directly adjacent to the Turbo lift, memories of him working the science station himself came back to him. Good times burying himself into streams of sensor data and completing radiological studies and astronomical scans.

Without another thought, he crossed the last meter to this chair. A grand panorama presenting himself on the main viewer. Blueish glowing nebulas forming a landscape around the ship. Twisting in on themselves, they formed towers, forests and deep lakes, filled with young stars instead of merely reflecting the night sky-high above them. Sights like these were just what they were out here for. Finding what could not be found anywhere else.

Seeing their new Flight Chief taking his station, the same time, he wanted to get his input on these new scenes.

"Those are a lot of stars out there, any interesting close by?"

As he was still contemplating the beauty of the surrounding expanse, a ping on his PADD drew his attention. The identification clearly stating the message to be a priority communiqué from Star Fleet HQ.
Inputting his personal access codes, he decrypted the message:

From: Star Fleet Command
To: USS Discovery Command Personnel

Update of Mission Parameters - Priority One
Contact to the USS Momentary has been lost 48 Hours ago and could not be re-established. The USS Discovery is to proceed to the Momentary's last known position and investigate and render assistance if necessary.
Star Fleet Command, San Francisco.

Reading through the update to the mission, he sighed, of course his first mission as First Officer could not simply be a charting and scrying mission.

"Captain, we got new Orders. This just came over subspace."

Handing the PADD to the Captain, he went ahead informing the rest of the Crew.

"Helm, download the last flightpath we have on record for the Momentary and set a course for where they should have been aproximitly two days ago. Operations and Science, please prepare and coordinate a potential search grid. Tactical we might be looking at a potentially hostile situation, please give me an update on the status of our shields, we wouldn't run into any problems with all the nebulas around us."

[Kalem Michael]

[USS Discovery | Deck 1 | Bridge]

"Helm, download the last flightpath we have on record for the Momentary and set a course for where they should have been aproximitly two days ago. Operations and Science, please prepare and coordinate a potential search grid. Tactical we might be looking at a potentially hostile situation, please give me an update on the status of our shields, we wouldn't run into any problems with all the nebulas around us."

Kalem tapped the chief on the shoulder and settled into the Helm position.

"Aye, Sir."

He started a computer search for the location needed and then a navigational sensor sweep. He was glad he did because there was a nebula that had a similar radiation reading to the one in Erewhon.

"Ops, we might need those special shields we had installed for the Erewhon system's radiation. I'm getting a similar reading from one along our path.
I would hate to have a similar situation occur to last time we ran into it."

[Alexander Graham]

[USS Discovery|Bridge]

Kalem stepped onto the bridge. His physical with the Doctor had not gone as he had planned. While he was in good health something was off. He couldn't put his finger on it.

Kalem stepped over to the Helm station, stood next to the chief, and spoke in a low tone.

"Morning chief, I guess everything has gone well. How are you settling in?"

[USS Discovery-bridge]
Alex nodded as the lieutenant junior grade came onto the bridge. "Good morning and hello lieutennant junior grade Michael I have been settling in quite well actually I have been doing obsevations keeping my eye out for any abnomalies and doing diagnostics in your absense. I do want to say that I do look forward to working alongside you."

[Dr Taja Grippen]

[USS Discovery | Sickbay]

As Trix stepped into Sickbay, the sharp but familiar scent of antiseptics immediately filled his nostrils. A tall, broad-shouldered Bajoran lieutenant jg. seemed to be on his way out, hypospray in hand—presumably the previous patient. As he passed the him, Trix offered a curt nod and a polite, "Lieutenant," still unfamiliar with the names of all the officers on board. He adjusted the PADD attached to his belt subconsciously, the weight of the metal and polymer slab a reassuring presence.

Almost immediately, his eyes were drawn to the figure standing near one of the central biobeds. She had an air of quiet authority, her teal-trimmed uniform denoting her as a member of the Medical Division. Even without introduction, Trix knew this must be Dr. Grippen, the Chief Medical Officer. Up until now, his dealings with the medical department had only been with junior doctors and nurses.

Trix straightened his posture, smoothing out the front of his slightly oversized uniform jacket as he stepped closer. He offered an easy smile, the kind that had served him well in disarming potentially tense situations.

"Good morning, Doctor. I am Ensign Trik'Nar Ch'Rehllan, but please call me Trix," he said, his tone light and friendly. His antennae angled slightly forward—a subtle Andorian sign of attentiveness.

"I came by to refill my hypospray and thought it would be a good idea to introduce myself properly. Since I will probably be keeping you company more often than most other crewmembers," he added with a self-deprecating grin, his antennae curling slightly to lighten the weight of the comment.

He paused for a moment, then added, "But before we get into all that, how is your day going so far, Dr. Grippen?"

His fingers brushed against the PADD at in his side, the familiarity of the device's contours mentally steadying him as he waited for her response. While not deceptive in nature, Trix's practiced ease was aimed at concealing the careful consideration behind his words. Years of navigating medical assessments and follow-ups had taught him the importance of building a good rapport with medical staff; especially those who might end up playing a significant role in his long-term treatment.

[USS Discovery, Sickbay]

"Good morning, Ensign. Come in, take a seat." Taja smiled at the ensign's positive attitude. It was nice to see someone make the effort in conversation. It reminded her of being back home on Risa where everyone was your friend. The doctor led them to the consultation room. She took a seat at the desk and brought up the ensign's medical file.

"Now yours is an interesting case isn't it. These lingering Andorian flu symptoms, tell me about them. Did you receive the vaccine as a child?"

Across most humanoid worlds the influenza virus that affected the respiratory system was common place. The virus still infected people today, though modern vaccination and treatments meant serious complications and death were unlikely.

[TrikNarChRehllan]

[USS Discovery, Sickbay]

"Good morning, Ensign. Come in, take a seat." Taja smiled at the ensign's positive attitude. It was nice to see someone make the effort in conversation. It reminded her of being back home on Risa where everyone was your friend. The doctor led them to the consultation room. She took a seat at the desk and brought up the ensign's medical file.

"Now yours is an interesting case isn't it. These lingering Andorian flu symptoms, tell me about them. Did you receive the vaccine as a child?"

Across most humanoid worlds the influenza virus that affected the respiratory system was common place. The virus still infected people today, though modern vaccination and treatments meant serious complications and death were unlikely.

[USS Discovery | Sickbay]

"Thank you very much, Doctor."

Trix followed the Risian into the consultation room, his eyes briefly scanning the orderly space. He took the offered seat across from her desk, settling into it with a soft creak of the leather padding, his antennae betraying a slight flicker of nervous energy. As the doctor brought up his medical file, he caught sight of the familiar, yet seemingly unending streams of data and diagrams on the screen, a layout he could practically recite by heart.

He offered a polite smile as she asked her question, though a hint of humor lingered in his voice as he responded.

"Oh, it's more than just your average Andorian flu," he began, his tone conversational yet precise. "What I had was a particularly nasty substrain capable of crossing the blood-brain barrier. That's when it turns into what we call Andorian Fever. It's rare, but when it happens, it's... memorable."

"To answer your question, Dr. Grippen, I did receive the standard vaccination as a child, so whatever I caught must have bypassed it somehow, likely a mutated strain or a rare anomaly. Some of my more paranoid relatives, however, have a different theory. They're convinced it was part of a targeted attack against our family, orchestrated by a rival dynasty within the Andorian Guard. It's not entirely impossible, given the notoriously backstabbing nature of my homeworld—power struggles, vendettas, and subtle sabotage are even more on Andor common than the ceremonial duels. Just less popularized."

Trix paused, taking a deliberate breath to calm himself, as the familiar irritation at the thought of Andorian politics threatened to surface with full force. "Thankfully, that's all in my past now. Leaving behind this web of politics and intrigue disguised as a code of honor was one of the best decisions I ever made."

He angled his torso forward, his antennae dipping in a gesture of understatement. "The fever is a flowery way to describe what you would call a viral encephalitis, which, as you might guess, isn't something you walk away from without a few souvenirs. Most of the time, I'm fine, but there are some lingering effects. Chronic fatigue on my bad days, occasional headaches that spike to full on nausea if I overdo it or do not get my medication... And I've got this delightful hypersensitivity to temperature changes." Trix chuckled softly, trying to keep the tone light.

"The medication helps manage the worst of it, but you'll find my file is an anthology of trial and error. Different antivirals, metabolic support therapies, supplements, painkillers... you name it, I've probably tried it. Thankfully, the current regimen has been steady for a while now." He tapped  the hypospray for emphasis, his grin turning faintly sardonic.

After a brief pause, he added, more thoughtfully, "For Andorians, encephalitis is also rumored to cause subtle personality shifts. My family would probably consider me a prime example—eschewing our militaristic traditions to pursue the furtherance of peace and justice is hardly in line with their expectations. That said, I can still get rather passionate at times, so perhaps there's a bit of Andor left in me after all." His antennae twitched upward, a subtle self-deprecating motion.

"So, that's the summary. I apologize if it sounds a bit rehearsed, but I've had plenty of practice explaining it." He smiled again, this time with a touch of genuine warmth. "If you have questions or suggestions, I'm all ears—and antennae."

Trix leaned back in his chair slightly, letting his shoulders relax as he awaited her response. His antennae angled forward, signaling his attentiveness. He took a moment to assess Dr. Grippen, whose calm demeanor and welcoming presence gave him the impression that she had excellent bedside manners. At the very least, she seemed like the kind of doctor who would genuinely listen to her patients, and that was enough to put him a little more at ease in his new surroundings.

[Tekin Nevir]

[USS Discovery | Deck 1 | Bridge]

The door of the lifts opened with a silent wush before him. Hydraulic systems releasing their pressure working as intended. Fully able to seal the doors in case of a loss of power or atmosphere.

Since getting the news of his promotion, he had begun to notice these small details about the ship. His mind keeping a running list of details and constantly checking for things he had missed. The new responsibility that had been placed on him, a constant thought in the back of his mind.

The Bridge was filled with Officers and specialists from various departments. A routine working flawlessly. A slight feeling of pride was blooming in his chest. After all the upheaval of the last months, he was happy to see they still were able to hold onto their mission.

Walking past the stations directly adjacent to the Turbo lift, memories of him working the science station himself came back to him. Good times burying himself into streams of sensor data and completing radiological studies and astronomical scans.

Without another thought, he crossed the last meter to this chair. A grand panorama presenting himself on the main viewer. Blueish glowing nebulas forming a landscape around the ship. Twisting in on themselves, they formed towers, forests and deep lakes, filled with young stars instead of merely reflecting the night sky-high above them. Sights like these were just what they were out here for. Finding what could not be found anywhere else.

Seeing their new Flight Chief taking his station, the same time, he wanted to get his input on these new scenes.

"Those are a lot of stars out there, any interesting close by?"

As he was still contemplating the beauty of the surrounding expanse, a ping on his PADD drew his attention. The identification clearly stating the message to be a priority communiqué from Star Fleet HQ.
Inputting his personal access codes, he decrypted the message:

From: Star Fleet Command
To: USS Discovery Command Personnel

Update of Mission Parameters - Priority One
Contact to the USS Momentary has been lost 48 Hours ago and could not be re-established. The USS Discovery is to proceed to the Momentary's last known position and investigate and render assistance if necessary.
Star Fleet Command, San Francisco.

Reading through the update to the mission, he sighed, of course his first mission as First Officer could not simply be a charting and scrying mission.

"Captain, we got new Orders. This just came over subspace."

Handing the PADD to the Captain, he went ahead informing the rest of the Crew.

"Helm, download the last flightpath we have on record for the Momentary and set a course for where they should have been aproximitly two days ago. Operations and Science, please prepare and coordinate a potential search grid. Tactical we might be looking at a potentially hostile situation, please give me an update on the status of our shields, we wouldn't run into any problems with all the nebulas around us."

Kalem tapped the chief on the shoulder and settled into the Helm position.

"Aye, Sir."

He started a computer search for the location needed and then a navigational sensor sweep. He was glad he did because there was a nebula that had a similar radiation reading to the one in Erewhon.

"Ops, we might need those special shields we had installed for the Erewhon system's radiation. I'm getting a similar reading from one along our path.
I would hate to have a similar situation occur to last time we ran into it."

[USS Discovery - Deck 1 - Main Bridge]

A dry chuckle came from the Captain at Lorut's response.  "I'm glad I'm not the only one questioning time.  Maybe its a Bajoran thing..." he stated, turning back to the viewscreen just as the doors opened and he saw his newest First Officer take the bridge.  It was going to be big shoes to fill; Rayek was someone the Captain served a long time with. But in truth they knew command changes were nearly inevitable. Especially considering that it was the senior officers that were vastly reduced after Frontier Day.

"Welcome to the Bridge... Number One." he stated, nodding as he looked back at the screen, until his focus was interrupted by a signal coming in.  A quiet one, which was already concerning.

"The Momentary?  That's Captain Reynolds's ship." he added, shaking his head. Luckily he didn't need to give the orders; Ramort was already on top of it.

"Mr Ramort, take the Bridge, I'll be in my ready room." he stated, standing up and walking towards his office.  As part of protocol he had to try to make contact with Starfleet command.

[Dr Taja Grippen]

[USS Discovery | Sickbay]

"Thank you very much, Doctor."

Trix followed the Risian into the consultation room, his eyes briefly scanning the orderly space. He took the offered seat across from her desk, settling into it with a soft creak of the leather padding, his antennae betraying a slight flicker of nervous energy. As the doctor brought up his medical file, he caught sight of the familiar, yet seemingly unending streams of data and diagrams on the screen, a layout he could practically recite by heart.

He offered a polite smile as she asked her question, though a hint of humor lingered in his voice as he responded.

"Oh, it's more than just your average Andorian flu," he began, his tone conversational yet precise. "What I had was a particularly nasty substrain capable of crossing the blood-brain barrier. That's when it turns into what we call Andorian Fever. It's rare, but when it happens, it's... memorable."

"To answer your question, Dr. Grippen, I did receive the standard vaccination as a child, so whatever I caught must have bypassed it somehow, likely a mutated strain or a rare anomaly. Some of my more paranoid relatives, however, have a different theory. They're convinced it was part of a targeted attack against our family, orchestrated by a rival dynasty within the Andorian Guard. It's not entirely impossible, given the notoriously backstabbing nature of my homeworld—power struggles, vendettas, and subtle sabotage are even more on Andor common than the ceremonial duels. Just less popularized."

Trix paused, taking a deliberate breath to calm himself, as the familiar irritation at the thought of Andorian politics threatened to surface with full force. "Thankfully, that's all in my past now. Leaving behind this web of politics and intrigue disguised as a code of honor was one of the best decisions I ever made."

He angled his torso forward, his antennae dipping in a gesture of understatement. "The fever is a flowery way to describe what you would call a viral encephalitis, which, as you might guess, isn't something you walk away from without a few souvenirs. Most of the time, I'm fine, but there are some lingering effects. Chronic fatigue on my bad days, occasional headaches that spike to full on nausea if I overdo it or do not get my medication... And I've got this delightful hypersensitivity to temperature changes." Trix chuckled softly, trying to keep the tone light.

"The medication helps manage the worst of it, but you'll find my file is an anthology of trial and error. Different antivirals, metabolic support therapies, supplements, painkillers... you name it, I've probably tried it. Thankfully, the current regimen has been steady for a while now." He tapped  the hypospray for emphasis, his grin turning faintly sardonic.

After a brief pause, he added, more thoughtfully, "For Andorians, encephalitis is also rumored to cause subtle personality shifts. My family would probably consider me a prime example—eschewing our militaristic traditions to pursue the furtherance of peace and justice is hardly in line with their expectations. That said, I can still get rather passionate at times, so perhaps there's a bit of Andor left in me after all." His antennae twitched upward, a subtle self-deprecating motion.

"So, that's the summary. I apologize if it sounds a bit rehearsed, but I've had plenty of practice explaining it." He smiled again, this time with a touch of genuine warmth. "If you have questions or suggestions, I'm all ears—and antennae."

Trix leaned back in his chair slightly, letting his shoulders relax as he awaited her response. His antennae angled forward, signaling his attentiveness. He took a moment to assess Dr. Grippen, whose calm demeanor and welcoming presence gave him the impression that she had excellent bedside manners. At the very least, she seemed like the kind of doctor who would genuinely listen to her patients, and that was enough to put him a little more at ease in his new surroundings.

[USS Discovery, Sickbay]

Taja listened with interest as the Andorian gave the background to his condition. Often in cases like these the patient became just as knowledgable about it as the doctors. The ensign's medical file was unusually long for someone their age. With notes from a wide range of doctors and locations, each trying their hand to help. The list of attempted treatments was also long and appeared to exhaust all the common and uncommon interventions out of the medical textbooks.

"In cases like this where a virus infects the brain, it unfortunately can lead to complex life changing effects like you experience. I think it's admirable that you've managed so well and graduated the Academy. Some people may have given up and let the condition get the best of them. You have shown great resilience to not let it control your life."

The humanoid brain was still the most complex object known to science with its trillions of connections. Attempting to fix the problem was no small task.

Taja flipped open her tricorder and began to run the usual scans.

"I'll have one of the nurses prepare your next batch of hyposprays. Have you been offered an auto dispensation device? It's a minor surgical implant that will automatically supply your body with the treatments. Saves you having to do it manually."

She closed the tricorder and uploaded the results to the medical file.

"One of my colleagues back on Risa is conducting a clinical trial with refactored Borg nanoprobes on patients with complex brain injuries. It's showing some early promising results. I wonder if anyone has suggested this to you before?"

[TrikNarChRehllan]

[USS Discovery, Sickbay]

Taja listened with interest as the Andorian gave the background to his condition. Often in cases like these the patient became just as knowledgable about it as the doctors. The ensign's medical file was unusually long for someone their age. With notes from a wide range of doctors and locations, each trying their hand to help. The list of attempted treatments was also long and appeared to exhaust all the common and uncommon interventions out of the medical textbooks.

"In cases like this where a virus infects the brain, it unfortunately can lead to complex life changing effects like you experience. I think it's admirable that you've managed so well and graduated the Academy. Some people may have given up and let the condition get the best of them. You have shown great resilience to not let it control your life."

The humanoid brain was still the most complex object known to science with its trillions of connections. Attempting to fix the problem was no small task.

Taja flipped open her tricorder and began to run the usual scans.

"I'll have one of the nurses prepare your next batch of hyposprays. Have you been offered an auto dispensation device? It's a minor surgical implant that will automatically supply your body with the treatments. Saves you having to do it manually."

She closed the tricorder and uploaded the results to the medical file.

"One of my colleagues back on Risa is conducting a clinical trial with refactored Borg nanoprobes on patients with complex brain injuries. It's showing some early promising results. I wonder if anyone has suggested this to you before?"

[USS Discovery | Sickbay]

Trix listened intently to Dr. Grippen as she spoke, his antennae angling forward in subtle focus. Her calm and understanding demeanor made the conversation feel less clinical, more personal. He appreciated the effort, and when she acknowledged his resilience, a faint, self-deprecating smile reappeard on his lips.

"Thank you, Doctor," he began, his tone warm. "But honestly, I've always thought of it this way: while the long-term effects are certainly noticeable and inconvenient, they're far from the worst that could've happened. The way I see it, my illness is a bit like the rain—complaining about it won't stop it from falling, but you can use it to feed something else, something greater. For me, that's been a sense of purpose and an appreciation for the path I've chosen." He tilted his head slightly, a glimmer of humor softening his expression. "Though I won't pretend it hasn't been difficult, even frustrating, at times."

As she flipped open her tricorder and began the scans, he remained still, the steady hum of the device providing a backdrop to their conversation. Her mention of the auto-dispensation device brought a small nod of recognition from him.

"The device has been brought up before," Trix explained, his voice carrying the cadence of someone recounting a well-worn story. "But my previous doctors wanted to hold off until we could settle on a long-term treatment. Implanting something without knowing the exact medication or dosage we'd need to standardize for felt... premature. At this point, though, with my regimen stable for a while now, it's probably worth revisiting the idea."

The approval for refilling his hyposprays had been a relief, expected though it was, and he'd expressed his gratitude with an earnest smile, acknowledging how much easier the stability of his current regimen made his daily life. But when Dr. Grippen mentioned the clinical trial involving refactored Borg nanoprobes, Trix's antennae began tapping together in contemplation, and his expression shifted to a thoughtful frown, replacing his conversationalist demeanor. He leaned forward slightly, resting his hands on his knees as he considered her words.

When he finally spoke, a mix of curiosity and apprehension colored his voice: "That... is intriguing. The idea of potentially curing my symptoms is, of course, appealing. But I have to admit, I'm wary about how it might affect my personality. As you mentioned earlier, the brain is complex. For Andorians, like I said, encephalitis is rumored to lead to personality changes, and... well, my family would say I'm a walking example of that. I can't help but fear that my personality might end up being 'cured' along with the symptoms."

Trix hesitated, then continued with a quiet resolve, as he reminded himself that one should always be honest with his lawyer and his doctor: "I've fought hard to become the person I am today. Not just my family, but also myself, my past convictions and everything I had learned up to that point. Eschewing my family's martial traditions to pursue peace and justice wasn't exactly a popular decision back  home on Andor. But I'm proud of the choices I've made, even if they're at odds with the norms of my people. I'd hate to lose that identity, lose myself, even if it meant getting rid of my symptoms once and for all."

He leaned back slightly, the faintest hint of a smile returning to his face, unwilling to shut that particular door just yet. "That being said, I'm definitely interested in learning more. If it's something you think is worth exploring, I'd like to hear all the details so that I can make an informed decision—one way or the other. Are there perhaps any Andorians in the trial already?"

Trix's antennae curled slightly, almost to the shape a human might find similar to that of a question mark, signaling his openness to the discussion. For now, he focused back on Dr. Grippen, appreciating the thoughtfulness with which she approached his case. It wasn't every day that a doctor took the time to truly listen or explore beyond what others hald already tried, and for that, he was genuinely grateful.

[Lucien Dupont]

[U.S.S. Discovery | Deck 11 | Main Engineering]

Lucien sighed casually as he finished a routine level four diagnostic on the starboard plasma injectors - a boring, but important task offloaded to junior officers.

His first mission against the Erewhon had been tense, exciting - everything Lucien dreamed about when he joined Starfleet. Today was just...another boring day. "I probably should be more thankful that nothing is going wrong..." Lucien thought to himself.

"Diagnostic complete. We're operating well within defined parameters." Lucien remarked as he finished his scan. There is a long, quiet beat as the quiet hum of the warp core fills the room.

Desperate to wade off silence, Lucien turns to whatever officers are near him.
"So...the Discovery is one sleek ship, huh? Really...seems to get the job done." He chuckles nervously - beating himself up for such a stupid line.

[M'Nia]

[USS Discovery | Deck 3 | First Officer's Quarter]

Logging in with his new credentials he was able to access most of Discoviers status information on his PADD directly. Flight speeds, warp intermix rations, all sensors and even some intensified memory access to classified material.

On top of the current mission docket there were several items still needing handeling. Opening a new Interface he drew up two quick inquiries:

-
Lt. Commander Ramort to Main Engineering:
Please report on the status of the Communication Systems. While in the Typhon Expanse we will be a long way from the next Federation Outpost and I don't want us loosing contact.

"Engineering, lt. m'nia here. I have been giving her the once over and so far, so good. Everything looks to be in top shape. She'll be fine! We should be able to keep in touch. Oh and congrats on the promotion!"

[Lorut Vila]

[USS Discovery|Ops Console|Bridge]

Vila looked up as Ramort spoke.

Captain, we got new Orders. This just came over subspace..Helm, download the last flightpath we have on record for the Momentary and set a course for where they should have been aproximitly two days ago. Operations and Science, please prepare and coordinate a potential search grid. Tactical we might be looking at a potentially hostile situation, please give me an update on the status of our shields, we wouldn't run into any problems with all the nebulas around us.

She pressed some buttons and nodded.

"Aye," she said, a little icily. She didn't yet trust this child in his position, and she didn't like that they were in the dark about the staff changes made. She knew it wasn't exactly her business, but it also WAS. Last week, Ramort was some guy down in Science, and now here he was, trying to tell her what to do?! She was going to need answers, soon.

Ops, we might need those special shields we had installed for the Erewhon system's radiation. I'm getting a similar reading from one along our path.I would hate to have a similar situation occur to last time we ran into it.

Vila raised an eyebrow. "Well, Lieutenant, luckily, our shields are on standby, and I am sure you'll let me know what you see before I see it," she said. At least, Malik always did, and it was better for everyone if the person flying the ship saw it first, right?!  "All systems are currently running expertly, and I have Lt. Bosch down in the office, making sure switches are connecting," she said. "The grid is up, scanning. Will report back with my findings, Commander," she said.

[T'Rea]

From: Star Fleet Command
To: USS Discovery Command Personnel

Update of Mission Parameters - Priority One
Contact to the USS Momentary has been lost 48 Hours ago and could not be re-established. The USS Discovery is to proceed to the Momentary's last known position and investigate and render assistance if necessary.
Star Fleet Command, San Francisco.

Reading through the update to the mission, he sighed, of course his first mission as First Officer could not simply be a charting and scrying mission.

"Captain, we got new Orders. This just came over subspace."
Handing the PADD to the Captain, he went ahead informing the rest of the Crew.

"Helm, download the last flightpath we have on record for the Momentary and set a course for where they should have been aproximitly two days ago. Operations and Science, please prepare and coordinate a potential search grid. Tactical we might be looking at a potentially hostile situation, please give me an update on the status of our shields, we wouldn't run into any problems with all the nebulas around us."

"Welcome to the Bridge... Number One." he stated, nodding as he looked back at the screen, until his focus was interrupted by a signal coming in.  A quiet one, which was already concerning.

"The Momentary?  That's Captain Reynolds's ship." he added, shaking his head. Luckily he didn't need to give the orders; Ramort was already on top of it.

"Mr Ramort, take the Bridge, I'll be in my ready room." he stated, standing up and walking towards his office.  As part of protocol he had to try to make contact with Starfleet command.

[Ensign Kedan]
[USS Discovery | Deck 1 | Bridge | Science Station 1]

Kedan looked up from his work at Ramort's instructions, "Aye, sir, I'll notify the department to make sure we have resources available for any potential sensor reconfiguration or analysis work needed to help in the search," the Benzite officer promised, already keying the console to transmit an alert to all on-duty Science personnel.

He was proud to serve as a Scientist on one of the few vessels in the fleet where both Captain and XO had worked their way up the ranks of Science departments and had Scientific training and background. And it wasn't just pride either--there was a special sense of confidence to be gained from reporting to officers who shared much of his skills and knowledge, and he relished it.

"Lt. Kalem, as soon as you have the flight data from the Momentary please forward it here. I can use estimates of their last known coordinates to get an idea of what kind of environment we'll need to search." That information could be crucial for preparing correct sensor setting and filters--the composition of the Expanse varied widely between regions, and any search pattern would have to be adapted accordingly.

[Dr Taja Grippen]

[USS Discovery | Sickbay]

Trix listened intently to Dr. Grippen as she spoke, his antennae angling forward in subtle focus. Her calm and understanding demeanor made the conversation feel less clinical, more personal. He appreciated the effort, and when she acknowledged his resilience, a faint, self-deprecating smile reappeard on his lips.

"Thank you, Doctor," he began, his tone warm. "But honestly, I've always thought of it this way: while the long-term effects are certainly noticeable and inconvenient, they're far from the worst that could've happened. The way I see it, my illness is a bit like the rain—complaining about it won't stop it from falling, but you can use it to feed something else, something greater. For me, that's been a sense of purpose and an appreciation for the path I've chosen." He tilted his head slightly, a glimmer of humor softening his expression. "Though I won't pretend it hasn't been difficult, even frustrating, at times."

As she flipped open her tricorder and began the scans, he remained still, the steady hum of the device providing a backdrop to their conversation. Her mention of the auto-dispensation device brought a small nod of recognition from him.

"The device has been brought up before," Trix explained, his voice carrying the cadence of someone recounting a well-worn story. "But my previous doctors wanted to hold off until we could settle on a long-term treatment. Implanting something without knowing the exact medication or dosage we'd need to standardize for felt... premature. At this point, though, with my regimen stable for a while now, it's probably worth revisiting the idea."

The approval for refilling his hyposprays had been a relief, expected though it was, and he'd expressed his gratitude with an earnest smile, acknowledging how much easier the stability of his current regimen made his daily life. But when Dr. Grippen mentioned the clinical trial involving refactored Borg nanoprobes, Trix's antennae began tapping together in contemplation, and his expression shifted to a thoughtful frown, replacing his conversationalist demeanor. He leaned forward slightly, resting his hands on his knees as he considered her words.

When he finally spoke, a mix of curiosity and apprehension colored his voice: "That... is intriguing. The idea of potentially curing my symptoms is, of course, appealing. But I have to admit, I'm wary about how it might affect my personality. As you mentioned earlier, the brain is complex. For Andorians, like I said, encephalitis is rumored to lead to personality changes, and... well, my family would say I'm a walking example of that. I can't help but fear that my personality might end up being 'cured' along with the symptoms."

Trix hesitated, then continued with a quiet resolve, as he reminded himself that one should always be honest with his lawyer and his doctor: "I've fought hard to become the person I am today. Not just my family, but also myself, my past convictions and everything I had learned up to that point. Eschewing my family's martial traditions to pursue peace and justice wasn't exactly a popular decision back  home on Andor. But I'm proud of the choices I've made, even if they're at odds with the norms of my people. I'd hate to lose that identity, lose myself, even if it meant getting rid of my symptoms once and for all."

He leaned back slightly, the faintest hint of a smile returning to his face, unwilling to shut that particular door just yet. "That being said, I'm definitely interested in learning more. If it's something you think is worth exploring, I'd like to hear all the details so that I can make an informed decision—one way or the other. Are there perhaps any Andorians in the trial already?"

Trix's antennae curled slightly, almost to the shape a human might find similar to that of a question mark, signaling his openness to the discussion. For now, he focused back on Dr. Grippen, appreciating the thoughtfulness with which she approached his case. It wasn't every day that a doctor took the time to truly listen or explore beyond what others hald already tried, and for that, he was genuinely grateful.

[USS Discovery, Sickbay]

Taja opened one of her desk drawers labelled 'demo', and placed a sample drug auto dispensation device on the table for the Ensign to take a look.

"Here's the latest Starfleet Medical model. As you see it's quite small and the procedure to install is done under local anaesthetic, It usually takes ten minutes. It can store up to two weeks supply before it needs refilled. But the clever thing with this model is, we can now use a miniature transporter beam to place fresh supply in the tank. This means the ship's computer can be scheduled to do that and you shouldn't have to worry about running out. Patients who use this have told me they even forget it's there after a while."

She let the Ensign take a look.

"As for the nano-probe trial, I've sent the details and application form to your personal computer. As with any trial there are risks to consider. Firstly it may not work at all. There may be unexpected consequences, potentially dangerous ones. Also you are correct in that you may undergo personality changes as a result. Ultimately it's a decision between trying to improve and even cure the symptoms vs risk. Take a look and let me know what you think."

"As for the device, shall I schedule you in for installation?"

[TrikNarChRehllan]

[USS Discovery, Sickbay]

Taja opened one of her desk drawers labelled 'demo', and placed a sample drug auto dispensation device on the table for the Ensign to take a look.

"Here's the latest Starfleet Medical model. As you see it's quite small and the procedure to install is done under local anaesthetic, It usually takes ten minutes. It can store up to two weeks supply before it needs refilled. But the clever thing with this model is, we can now use a miniature transporter beam to place fresh supply in the tank. This means the ship's computer can be scheduled to do that and you shouldn't have to worry about running out. Patients who use this have told me they even forget it's there after a while."

She let the Ensign take a look.

"As for the nano-probe trial, I've sent the details and application form to your personal computer. As with any trial there are risks to consider. Firstly it may not work at all. There may be unexpected consequences, potentially dangerous ones. Also you are correct in that you may undergo personality changes as a result. Ultimately it's a decision between trying to improve and even cure the symptoms vs risk. Take a look and let me know what you think."

"As for the device, shall I schedule you in for installation?"

[USS Discovery | Sickbay]

Trix leaned forward slightly, picking up the sample auto-dispensation device from the desk. He turned it over in his hands, examining it closely with the intensity of someone hoping to glean more from the object than what was visible. The compact size and streamlined design were impressive, and he found himself appreciating the ingenuity that had gone into crafting something so unobtrusive.

There was a small, wry smile on his lips as he began to speak: "Well, I'll admit, if it works as seamlessly as you describe, it'll be a lot less work for you and the rest of the Sickbay staff. Not to mention, it'd save me from having to constantly check my supply levels." He set the device back down gently and nodded. "Let's go ahead and schedule the installation. Though, if it's not too much trouble, I'd still like to keep a backup hypospray on hand. Just in case... unforeseen events crop up." His tone carried an undercurrent of practicality, an acknowledgment of the unpredictable nature of life and duty aboard a Starfleet vessel—even for someone like himself who spent most of his time reading and contemplating.

As for the mention of the nanoprobes, Trix's expression grew more thoughtful, his antennae angling slightly backward in contemplation. The idea of potentially curing his symptoms was undeniably appealing, yet the specter of losing himself—of his personality being 'cured' along with his physical affliction—remained a heavy weight on his mind. Is who I am really the result of some physical alteration to my brain? Or is it just the natural consequence of my experiences, my choices? He knew it was a question without a clear answer, one that medical science and philosophy had wrestled with for centuries. Still, the thought unsettled him.

"Thank you for sending the information over," he said after a moment, his tone steady but laced with introspection. "I'll definitely take a closer look at the data and weigh my options. If there's a way to program these nanoprobes to leave my personality intact while addressing the symptoms, it could be worth considering. Then again, the prospect of a tool that potentially could freely edit somebody's personality is a troubling one—a true Pandora's Box, if you will. I find the idea of possibly being 'cured' of myself rather unnerving. I suppose it'll come down to balancing the risks and rewards... as these things usually do."

Leaning back in his chair, he offered a faint, but genuine smile. "It's a lot to think about, but I value your transparency. It's not often you find someone in your position willing to lay out all the potential consequences, even the uncomfortable ones."

"Thank you very much, Dr. Grippen. I truly appreciate your considerate approach to the complexities of my... case." With a touch of genuine warmth in his voice, he offered a polite nod and motioned to stand up. "If there is nothing else, doctor, I believe I have taken up enough of your valuable time today. I'll collect my refill from one of the nurses on my way out, and I look forward to seeing you at the procedure."

[Kalem Michael]

[USS Discovery|Ops Console|Bridge]

Vila raised an eyebrow. "Well, Lieutenant, luckily, our shields are on standby, and I am sure you'll let me know what you see before I see it," she said. At least, Malik always did, and it was better for everyone if the person flying the ship saw it first, right?!  "All systems are currently running expertly, and I have Lt. Bosch down in the office, making sure switches are connecting," she said. "The grid is up, scanning. Will report back with my findings, Commander," she said.

Kalem mumbled under his breath in response to the Ops officer's aggressive response.

"The sensor array that feeds both my readings and your readings is the same system. We will see it at approximately the same time"

[Ensign Kedan]
[USS Discovery | Deck 1 | Bridge | Science Station 1]

"Lt. Kalem, as soon as you have the flight data from the Momentary please forward it here. I can estimate their last known coordinates to get an idea of what kind of environment we'll need to search." That information could be crucial for preparing correct sensor settings and filters--the composition of the Expanse varied widely between regions, and any search pattern would have to be adapted accordingly.

Kalem sent the information to the Science station.

"Information is on it's way. I also included the past few check-in locations in order to give a relative heading."