The conference room aboard Eos Station was unusually quiet, a stark contrast to recent events. The cure discovered aboard Tavok’s ship had done its job, stabilizing the infected. Starfleet had now taken over the recovery process, sending medical teams and resources to treat those affected. But this was a different meeting, a far more personal one. Peter, Elena, AJ, and Gab sat around the central table, their faces reflecting a mix of exhaustion and concern. Though the immediate crisis had passed, the aftermath lingered, especially for those in the room.
Elena broke the silence, her voice unable to hide her frustration. “They’ve contained the virus and ensured it no longer threatens the station or the surrounding sector. But the investigation into its origins…” She paused, her fingers tapping the table lightly. “That’s where things got complicated. Too bad we can’t finish this. Starfleet’s taken everything, every piece of evidence we had.”
Peter, staring out the nearby window, nodded. “The virus was only part of a much larger scheme, and now the trail has gone cold. The data, the evidence we collected… it’s all gone. If there were any clues left, Starfleet has them now.” He sighed. “They’ll classify it, lock it away. But we won’t forget what we’ve seen.”
AJ snorted softly, a dry smile on his face. “Yeah, well, everyone’s been damn exceptional throughout this crisis, but I’ll tell you what, this situation’s shown us we can’t just go back to business as usual. We are ready to resume our patrol duties, but,” he paused, “this was more than just a random viral outbreak. Starfleet might want to bury it and pretend it never happened, but we can’t. This was a wake-up call.”
Gab leaned in. “Eos is in the process of recovery,” he said. “But it’s hard to know what we’re supposed to do next when we’re being kept in the dark. We need to stay alert, even if Starfleet thinks this is over.”
Peter turned back to the group, his voice gaining its typical edge. “Exactly. We can’t pretend nothing happened just because they swept the mess under the rug. Starfleet can take all the evidence they want, but they can’t take what we know and what we’ve learned.”
As the conversation continued, the team’s realization deepened. Starfleet’s intervention had been swift, and their removal of the evidence was final, but it left the crew with a bitter understanding: they were on their own. The Federation, it seemed, had its own agenda, but it was one that might not align with theirs.
AJ spoke again, his tone more serious now. “We need to treat this as a warning. We can’t just wait for the next crisis to hit us. This station, the USS Edison… we have to stay sharp. Even if Starfleet wants to ignore the bigger picture, we won’t. I can’t.”
Peter nodded. “Eos Station will undergo upgrades, no question. We’ll bolster our security and response systems and ensure we’re better prepared for whatever comes next. The USS Edison will keep up its patrols, with a focus on intelligence gathering. We need to know what’s out there, what’s moving behind the scenes.”
Peter folded his arms across his chest. “The only real mistake is the one where we learn nothing. We’ve learned a lot, especially who we can trust and who we can’t. And even though Starfleet took all the physical evidence, they can’t take what we know. We’ll stay cautious, but we won’t forget.”
Elena added, “The Federation might be willing to let this fade into classified files, but we’re not. This isn’t over. It can’t be. We’ve been tested, and our crew emerged stronger.”
With the meeting nearing its end, everyone exchanged a knowing node of agreement. Eos Station would be upgraded, the USS Edison would resume its patrol routes with renewed vigilance, and every officer aboard would be alert for signs of anything unusual. They were no longer just a frontier unit; they were now the first line of defense. But a defense against what remained to be seen.
The lights in the conference room dimmed slightly as the team prepared to leave, each lost in their thoughts, wondering what the next challenge would be and how ready they would need to be when it arrived.
As the others began to move and gather their belongings, Peter hesitated. He glanced toward Elena, catching her eye briefly before she turned away. The tension between them lingered like a shadow in the room. The weight of unresolved issues was hard for him to ignore. He knew this moment couldn’t be ignored.
“Elena,” he started softly, waiting for her to acknowledge him, but she kept her eyes fixed on the padd in front of her. “Can we talk? Just… privately?” He placed a hand on her shoulder.
For a moment, it seemed she might respond, her fingers pausing in their movement. But the silence that followed felt more serious than the events they’d just survived. She finally stood, tucking her padd under her arm without a glance in his direction. Pulling her arm free, she spoke.
“There’s nothing to be said that I haven’t already heard. Now is not the time for this,” Elena said. “Now, if you will, Captain, I have crew members I need to see.” The formality of Peter’s rank was a deliberate sting. Elena turned and walked out of the room, leaving Peter standing there alone.
“Elena,” he whispered, but it was too late.