“Captain’s log, stardate seven-nine-eight-four-three point seven. After sharing every detail of my recent telepathic experience with Prime Curator I’Tareen, she and I have agreed that a mission to Ivalis Two is necessary to uncover the source of the neurogenic field that appears to be compelling Ivalans into accepting the Doctrine of Unseeing. The Prime Curator has been transported aboard the Atlas for further discussions, accompanied by two of her senior experts.”

The doors to the briefing room parted with a soft hiss. Corbin stood as Prime Curator I’Tareen stepped inside. Her tall, slender figure was draped in layered silver fabrics that shimmered faintly with each movement. Her eyes flicked quickly across the room before she gave a serene dip of her chin.

Behind her followed two Ivalan men.

“Captain Romen Corbin,” I’Tareen announced formally, “may I introduce High Sheriff I’Hernis and Sheriff I’Timis.”

I’Hernis possessed the broad-shouldered solidity of someone who had seen too much and endured more. His dark hair, woven with thin metallic cords, a symbol of Ivalan civil authority, contrasted sharply with the pale ridges running from his temples to his jawline. His expression held discipline but also exhaustion.

While in contrast, I’Timis was leaner, younger, and visibly tense. His face was sharper, more defined, and his uniform bore fewer ceremonial details. But his alert posture and quick, observant eyes revealed someone accustomed to moving through dangerous places with precision.

Corbin offered his warmest diplomatic smile. The rest of the senior crew, Nelson, Velesa, Carrilion, Merrendis, Ortega, Rowal, and Alkos, rose as one as Corbin greeted and introduced everyone to their guests.

“Aboard the Atlas, you are among friends,” Corbin said. “Please, all of you, take a seat.”

Once they settled, Corbin tapped the controls embedded at the centre of the conference table. A holographic map of Ivalis II shimmered into view, slowly rotating to reveal continental outlines and atmospheric markings.

“From our long-range scans and the database you gracefully shared with us,” Corbin began, “the neurogenic field is at its strongest in the southwestern continent. Here,” he zoomed in, highlighting a series of narrow valleys and rugged highland grounds, “in I’Kanse County. That’s the highest concentration we’ve detected.”

Velesa leaned forward, fingers steepled. Her Denobulan smile was bright and confident, as always. “But the signal is muddied. The density of population affected by the doctrine’s influence disrupts our readings. It’s like trying to find a whisper in a sea of echoes.”

I’Timis frowned, studying the projection. “You are certain it originates there? What about the Isle of I’Uran? Or the trade complexes in I’Stekhelm? Those areas have dealt with a lot of civil unrest as much as I’Kanse.” His tone carried both challenge and concern, as if the possibility of a mistake weighed heavily on him.

Corbin met his gaze. “During my telepathic contact, I saw structures, mining outposts, tiered cities, a ridge line with a bridge. We matched those visuals to your database. All belong to I’Kanse. I am certain of.”

I’Hernis nodded once. “Then I’Kanse is our point of origin.”

Nelson, seated at Corbin’s right, studied the two sheriffs. “You both know the region well?”

“We do,” I’Timis replied. “Our last operation there was only weeks ago. We stopped a group preparing to harm themselves under doctrinal compulsion.”

Carrilion’s voice warmed the room. “Eye removal?” she guessed sympathetically.

“Unfortunately.” I’Hernis exhaled. “Ivalis Two breeds harsher behaviours. It is not like Ivalis Prime. The planet’s cold climate and severe mountain terrain shape different lives. Many settlements are more functional than beautiful.”

“Because of the construction industries?” Corbin asked.

“Yes,” I’Hernis said. “Starship yards, mining networks, geothermal stations and research cities. Ivalis II’s mineral exports are the backbone of our union. Its energy reserves are equally vital.”

Nelson nodded thoughtfully. “And that means high pressure on its workers.”

A flicker of tension passed across I’Tareen’s face. “We support our people, Commander. Ivalis Two’s role is essential to the Ivalan Union. That does not mean it is neglected.”

“That’s not what she meant,” I’Hernis said gently, correcting his leader without confronting her directly. “But the standards of comfort on Ivalis II are not equivalent to Ivalis Prime.”

Merrendis folded her hands atop the table, her voice calm and melodic. “Such environments naturally create emotional strain. People under greater stress may become more susceptible to manipulation, be it spiritual or technological.”

Corbin raised his hands, stopping the rising tension. “Let’s stay focused. We need to determine what could generate a neurogenic field on such a scale.”

I’Timis shook his head. “Nothing in I’Kanse could do this. It is a mining settlement. The largest energy centres are geothermal plants, not neurogenic generators. The only unusual feature is a significant archaeological hub.”

“What if it’s not Ivalan in origin?” Nelson asked, lifting her PADD.

I’Hernis frowned. “Explain.”

Nelson brought up cross-referenced data. “Reports from Starfleet vessels across the expanse indicate alien structures buried beneath several worlds. It’s consistent enough to consider a pattern.”

Corbin nodded. “We’ve read similar findings.”

I’Tareen’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Our institutes do not possess such technology. If something alien lies beneath I’Kanse, it would have been uncovered by our mining operations.”

“Not necessarily,” Velesa countered gently. “If the builders were sufficiently advanced, they could have shielded or buried the structure beyond your sensors. Or your miners could have simply been working in the wrong direction.”

Rowal finally spoke, his tone firm and measured. “There is another possibility. If the doctrine’s leaders discovered such a structure first, they may be deliberately concealing its existence to exploit its power.”

That made the entire room fall silent.

I’Timis swallowed. “If the doctrine seized control of something like that…”

“It would explain the behavioural shift,” Merrendis murmured. “And the fervour. A telepathic amplification effect could masquerade as religious revelation.”

“But how did they get access to such a device?” Alkos asked, brows knitted. “Even if it exists, they’d need clearance or opportunity.”

Corbin answered, voice heavy. “The doctrine thrives in secrecy. And instability creates opportunity.”

I’Tareen pressed her palms together tightly. “If something alien is influencing our people, then we must know. And quickly.”

I’Timis straightened. “I suggest an investigative team. We can guide you through I’Kanse undetected.”

“That’s impossible,” I’Tareen snapped. “Our ships cannot approach the planet. The doctrine’s orbital blockade is too dense.”

“We don’t need a ship to get there,” Ortega said bluntly.

Everyone turned.

Her voice remained flat, matter-of-fact. “Your orbital platforms have short-range transporters in all of them.”

I’Tareen blinked. “Correct. Maintenance bots use them for repairs. They beam onto each station from a central hub along a series of relays.”

“So we hitch a ride,” Ortega continued. “Hop relay to relay until we’re close enough to make a controlled descent.”

Nelson folded her arms. “Problem is the nearest defence platform still can’t beam us down.”

Ortega smirked. “So we jump.”

The room stared at her.

Corbin rubbed the bridge of his nose. He knew what Ortega was going to suggest, so he beat her to it. “Orbital skydiving is not typically high on my list of options.”

Rowal, completely unfazed, nodded approvingly. “I’m trained for it.”

“Of course you are,” Nelson muttered. “So who do we send?”

Corbin leaned back in his chair. “There’s no way to avoid the obvious. I’m going. If this started with my telepathic experience, then my presence is essential.”

Nelson’s head snapped toward him. “Then I’m going too.”

Corbin gave her a look, the one that said I know you’re doing this because you think I’ll leap into danger.

And Nelson returned a look that said You’re damn right I am.

“Liz—” he began.

“Don’t.” Her tone softened, but only slightly. “You’re my captain. You’re my friend. And you’re Betazoid, which means if something down there affects telepaths, we’re not sending you alone.”

Carrilion lifted a cheerful hand. “I’m joining as well. Someone has to patch you both up when you inevitably do something heroic and ill-advised.”

Ortega shrugged. “If we’re moving through a series of transporters, you’re gonna need me to ensure we don’t blow something up. It’ll be cool.”

Rowal simply nodded. “I’ll handle tactical coverage. And the landing.”

Corbin exhaled slowly. “Fine. That means, Reon, you will stay in command of the Atlas.”

Alkos inclined his head. “Understood, sir. I’ll keep the ship ready for extraction.”

I’Tareen looked between her sheriffs. “Sheriff I’Hernis. Sheriff I’Timis. You will accompany them.”

Both men bowed their heads in solemn agreement.

“It will be an honour,” I’Hernis said.

I’Timis added, “And a necessary one. As we said, no outsiders can move through I’Kanse as safely as we can.”

Corbin looked around the table. “Then it’s decided. We assemble the away team, prepare the relay hops, and get ready to jump.”

Ortega cracked her knuckles. “Everyone, bring a helmet. And maybe a prayer.”

Nelson smirked. “For who?”

“For the platforms,” Ortega deadpanned. “They have no idea what’s coming.”

Corbin rose, grounding himself before he dismissed the team. Nelson, in her diplomatic tone, offered to take their visitors to guest quarters ahead of their away mission. Corbin showed his appreciation for her support with a smile and a nod, then watched as she led everyone out of the room. He walked over to the large bay windows that looked out to the Ivalis system.

In the distance, he could see Ivalis Two. Whatever lay beneath I’Kanse, alien, ancient, or something far worse, he knew that he and his crew would face it together.

And this time, Corbin would be awake for it.