Lieutenant Dhae’s official log, officially mandated entry, stardate [REDACTED]: my activities are within the norm and the parameters thereof are within reason.

Dhae had sat in the hammock on the non-Vulcan side of the counsellor office, and had closed his eyes. This side of the room, altered to look like a congenial environment to whomever Sakar’s patient was currently supposed to be, came together with a slight noise of alien chirping and a vague smell of vegetation.

His eyes closed, the Romulan was repeating his meditative exercises to keep his mind clear. He had done so far an excellent job of keeping this extraneous paranoia in check, but he needed to strengthen his defences regularly: was he being too paranoid? Too little paranoid? He separated from his mind, looked at his paranoia, and dissected it like a biologist with an insect.

At the other end of the room, Counselor Sakar had been having no success contacting the Captain, and was now trying to reach the First Officer.

“This is Counselor Sakar. Please respond, Commander. It is very urgent.”

Dhae breathed deeply. His fears would serve him. His fears would destroy his enemies.

“Commander, come in.”

Finally, the communicator spoke back: the First Officer’s voice, in hushed tones. “Be quiet, Lieutenant! THEY are surely listening. THEY cannot know where we are.”

Sakar raised an eyebrow. “Commander, there is no ‘they’ to speak of. It is –”

The commbadge chirped again, communicating that the call had been abandoned.

Dhae opened his eyes. “Our senior staff isn’t in the position of doing something, are they?”

Sakar looked at him coldly. “They seem to be affected adversely by the circumstances.”

“This is bad. What works against Astrolisomyces is methane, right? Flushing the ship should kill it. But it is ineffective against the spores that have already been released.”

“Federation medicine does know a drug that can inhibit the effects on the mind” said Sakar. “It can be administered airborne. I am surprised this method is unknown to Romulans.”

“We do not need a drug” remarked Dhae dryly. “Can you administer it from here? You are a medical crew.”

“We’d need to replicate a canister of the drug and bring it to atmospheric control.”

Suddenly, the yellow alarm rang. Lights dimmed just slightly.

The ship-wide intercom sounded. “This is the First Officer. All of you, just — please stay in your quarters or something. Nobody does something unwise. THEY can’t know. THEY are watching.”

Sakar looked somewhat displeased at the intercom announcement. “It is countereffective to reinforce everyone’s paranoia in this fashion.”

“If the drug isn’t administered, what happens to the crew usually?”

“For the first hour, plus or minus twenty minutes, the paranoia and fear tend to have a paralyzing effect on almost everyone” said the Vulcan. “After that, the response becomes a hysteric rage.”

“So we have less than an hour before someone decides to take their hysteria out on a vital ship component, right?”

“We are to assume so.”

Dhae stood. “Should we also assume that it should be the two of us to administer the cure?”

Sakar didn’t need to think long. “We might be ill-equipped for that, but logics dictates we should.”

The Romulan didn’t want to admit to himself that they were ill-equipped, but it was probably true. They had to travel to a biological-grade replicator, synthesise a drug he didn’t know, bring a canister to atmospheric control he had never operated, and disperse it within a useful time. He himself was an astrophysicist: he brought basically zero qualifications in any of these very specialized fields. He hoped that the Vulcan would bring some more relevant experience.

“Sakar to Lieutenant T’Vylin” said Sakar tapping on his commbadge.

No response.

“Lieutenant T’Vylin, please come in.”

Dhae looked at the Vulcan quizzically.

Sakar looked at him. “There are other Vulcans on board. They should be as unaffected as I am. Their help should be invaluable.”

“They are not responding, though.”

“My communicator isn’t transmitting.” Sakar went to his wall monitor and typed. The output, seen from Dhae’s position, was a lot of red and alarm symbols. “It is no surprise. Someone has locked most functions of the ship. Communications, transporters, turbolifts. I assume they wrongly assume that the ship is being invaded. This is disagreeable.”

Dhae looked at the door. They had wasted enough time, although it had been necessary. “Then we go by foot. How bad can it be? Two of us against a ship of psychologically impaired people!”

“Please do not describe my job in such an unkind way” said Sakar dryly, and opened the door.