“After receiving a distress signal from the civilian freighter Lien, I’ve been in constant touch with Lieutenant Commander Madison Andrews, the Chief Medical Officer on the USS Edison. The situation with the Lien is more serious than we’d hoped. The freighter was found adrift, its crew dead, likely from severe radiation poisoning, and showing some troubling neurological symptoms. We suspect this might be linked to Underspace exposure, though we’re still piecing together the details.
Commander AJ Tindal and his crew on the Edison have done an outstanding job stabilizing the freighter and evacuating the remains, but their work is far from over. The remains are now in quarantine aboard the Edison, and Madison’s team is working around the clock to understand what went wrong.

Madison and I are pooling our resources to tackle this crisis. The radiation has caused severe cellular breakdown, especially affecting the nervous system. This raises troubling questions about how these anomalies might impact living beings.
On a personal note, I’ve noticed the toll this is taking on Commander Tindal. Madison mentioned he’s become more withdrawn lately, likely due to the stress and shadows from his past assignment.

Seeing the weight on Tindal and his team, I’ve offered all the resources of our station’s sickbay to support the efforts in solving the mysteries surrounding the Lien and these anomalies. For now, we’ll move forward, one step at a time, hoping our combined efforts will lead us to answers.

 

End Log.”

Day 2, 1300 Hours

Emily walked into the science lab, her usual energy a stark contrast to the lab’s serious atmosphere. Lieutenant Commander Michael Turner, the station’s Chief Science Officer, was hunched over a console, deeply absorbed in analyzing data from the USS Edison. His face was expressionless, focused entirely on his work.

“Doctor Turner,” Emily said, breaking the silence, “we need to set up the quarantine zone in Cargo Bay 2. The Edison’s crew will be transferring the remains from the Lien soon, and we need to be ready.”

Michael didn’t immediately respond, seemingly lost in his thoughts. He finally looked up, his eyes meeting hers, though his expression remained neutral. “The data from the Edison is troubling,” he said in his usual clinical tone. “The cellular breakdown patterns match prolonged radiation exposure, but the neurological symptoms suggest something beyond simple radiation sickness. If this is linked to Underspace exposure, it could have affected more than just the Lien.”

Emily nodded. “That’s why we need to be prepared. The Edison’s medical team is exhausted and coming here for help. We need to make sure everything is ready for their arrival.”

Michael stood, adjusting his uniform. “I’ll coordinate with Engineering to ensure Cargo Bay 2 is properly sealed and radiation-shielded. We can’t afford any breaches. I’ll also run simulations based on the Edison’s data to predict possible patterns and necessary countermeasures.”

“Good,” Emily replied, “I’ll head to the medical bay to prepare our teams. We’ll need to run extensive scans on all remains and any personnel who might have been exposed.” Despite his lack of enthusiasm, she appreciated his attention to detail.

As she turned to leave, Michael’s voice stopped her. “Doctor Rodriguez,” he said, “whatever this is, it’s unlike anything we’ve faced before. We should prepare for the possibility that standard protocols might not be enough.”

Emily paused, considering his words. “I agree. We need to be ready for anything. Let’s hope that we can think outside the box. And let’s hope that box is full of good ideas.” She smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

With a nod, Michael returned to his terminal, diving back into the data. Emily left the lab, her mind occupied with the gravity of the situation. The events surrounding the Lien and the Edison were only getting worse, and they were only just beginning to understand the full extent of the threat.

Day 3, 1700 Hours

In the cargo bay, crew members were working under Michael’s direction, setting up the quarantine zone. Large containment fields and medical scanning stations were being installed around the perimeter. Emily could see the tension on their faces; this was no routine operation.

As she made her way to the medical staff, Emily briefed the team. “This isn’t just about analyzing radiation sickness,” she told them. “We’re dealing with something unknown and potentially dangerous. I need everyone on high alert. Follow full hazmat protocols, and no one enters the quarantine zone without clearance, no exceptions.”

The medical staff quickly began their preparations. Supplies were gathered, equipment calibrated, and emergency procedures reviewed. Emily moved through the room, making sure every detail was attended to. Despite the tension, she maintained a reassuring attitude, knowing her team relied on her confidence.

As the final preparations were completed, Emily checked in with the Edison’s Chief Medical Officer, who appeared on the screen, looking exhausted. “Madison,” Emily began, “we’re ready on our end. Send us what you’ve got, and we’ll take it from here.”

“Thanks, Emily,” Madison replied, her voice weary but grateful. “This is a mess. I’ll send the first batch over shortly. Keep me updated on anything you find.”

“Will do. And hang in there, Madison. We’ll get through this.”

As the transmission ended, Emily took a deep breath, preparing for the work ahead. The remains from the Lien would soon arrive. She was ready, and so was her team. They would tackle this problem step by step, double-checking everything to ensure accuracy. With everything in place, Emily moved over to a terminal, where Michael was finalizing things on his end.

“Everything’s ready,” he said. “We’re as prepared as we can be.”

“Good,” Emily replied with a smile. “Let’s get to work.” Just as Emily was about to leave the quarantine zone, her communicator chirped. Doctor Andrews appeared on the screen, her expression grim.

“Emily, we have a new development,” Madison said urgently. “Ensign Heskett from Security has just shown symptoms of the same illness, though it’s progressing more slowly than with the Lien crew. We don’t know why, but we need to ramp up our efforts. This thing is starting to spread.”

Emily looked at Michael. “That box is getting smaller.”

Michael nodded. “Agreed.”

As the initial remains were beamed into a secured section of the cargo bay, Emily and Michael faced a situation no Starfleet training had fully prepared them for. They would have to rely on their experience and the expertise of their colleagues. Emily was confident they could resolve the situation, though she knew it would require time and persistence.