Chapter 4 Jump Emergence: Marinagua

The universe snaps back.

No flare. No flash. Only the abrupt, bone-deep reassertion of normal space. The hull gives a low metallic groan as stressed grav plates settle into equilibrium, and for half a heartbeat the sensor boards spike white before normalizing. Ahead, the A0 V primary burns like a blue-white spear—hard light, hard shadows, nothing forgiving in its glare.

Close to the star, a molten world glows like a forge ember. Beyond it, a second planet churns beneath violent storm systems. The third planet hangs at 1.06 AU, larger than the inner pair, faint atmospheric distortion visible even at range. At first glance, glare from the primary could easily confuse spectral readings. Farther out, at 1.3 AU, a blue-green disk turns slowly against the black.

Marinagua.

Cloud bands drift across its surface. Ocean light flashes in reflected brilliance. A thin terminator line divides day from night, and a barren moon trails in patient orbit. The jump plot resolves cleanly: emergence at the 100-diameter limit relative to the fourth planet. At one gee, orbital approach will take approximately forty-one hours.

For a moment, there is silence.

The bridge, on Deck One, does not come alive.

There is no automated greeting from planetary control, no traffic beacon handshake, no commercial squawk, no background chatter. The displays glow softly in the dim light. Passive sensors continue collecting data. The hum of systems fills the void where voices should be.

Captain Halsson stands at the forward console. Edrin monitors pilot and astrogation stations. Ruiha occupies the secondary helm position. None of them speak immediately.

On Deck Two, the rest of the crew are scattered between the common lounge and their staterooms, recovering from jump transit or resuming routine conversation. They feel the subtle shift of emergence through the deck plating, but nothing suggests urgency—yet.

In Engineering on Deck Two, Amara feels the transition before the status lights confirm it. Her boards scroll green across subsystem diagnostics. She keys ship-wide comm.

"Engineering to bridge."

Halsson’s reply is steady. "Report."

"Jump grid collapse clean. No harmonic residue. Hull stress within tolerances. No microfracture alerts. Powerplant variance point-zero-three percent. Maneuver drive nominal. Life support stable. No misjump anomalies detected." A brief pause. "Engineering green."

On the bridge, Edrin overlays emergence coordinates against predicted plot. "Coordinates verified. We are precisely at projected 100-diameter limit." He scrolls outward, cross-checking archived survey data. "Captain… the 1065 IISS survey listed a tenth outer planet." He expands the scan range. "Negative confirmation. No tenth body detected. Likely survey error or misidentification."

Halsson says nothing.

The wide passive sensor sweep continues. Edrin reads off results in a calm, measured tone. No active transponders. No military signatures. No patrol corvettes. No commercial traffic. No mining platforms. No debris fields. Thermal analysis negative for powered vessels operating dark. The system lanes are empty.

Not alarmingly so. Just empty.

Spectrometers refine atmospheric readings. "The third planet at 1.06 AU shows corrosive atmospheric composition—chlorine and nitrogen dominant," Edrin reports. He shifts focus. "The fourth planet reads oxygen-nitrogen base."

He pauses.

"Tainted."

From Engineering, Amara listens in. "Dangerous?"

"Unknown. One additional hour of passive analysis required to resolve contaminant profile." Edrin brings up the old survey record. "The 1065 IISS report logged the fourth planet as corrosive. That appears incorrect. Likely spectral confusion with the third planet due to primary glare."

Halsson studies the slowly rotating world ahead. "Continue passive."

Edrin overlays approach vectors. "At one gee, forty-one hours to orbit. At two gee, twenty-nine hours, thirty minutes—approximately eleven and a half hours saved."

Still no response from the planet. No starport control. No corporate frequency. No hostile presence. Just silence.

Halsson finally speaks. "Operational Tree."

Edrin recites from memory. "One: No Traffic—assume infrastructure degradation. Two: Confirm via passive analysis. Three: Delay active emissions. Four: Escalate only upon contradictory evidence."

"No evidence of concealment," Halsson says evenly. "No thermal ghosts. No jamming signatures. Proceed under degradation assumption."

Time passes. Atmospheric analysis continues refining. The bridge remains quiet. On Deck Two, the crew remain unaware of the tension building above them.

At last Halsson inhales slowly. "Prepare long-range IISS frequency ping."

Edrin’s hand moves toward the console. Ruiha straightens at helm.

And then Halsson stiffens.

It is subtle at first—a tightening of her posture, a hand gripping the edge of the command console. Ruiha notices the change before anyone else.

"Captain?"

Halsson tries to speak. The color drains from her face. Her vision unfocuses—and she collapses.

Edrin is already moving. "Ruiha—helm. Maintain passive posture. One gee hold."

Ruiha slides fully into primary control without hesitation. Edrin triggers internal comm. "Medical to bridge. Immediate."

On Deck Two, in the common lounge and staterooms, the calm hum of shipboard life is shattered by the sharp tone of the shipwide medical alert.

Above them, the system remains utterly, unnervingly silent.

Victor was reading some manual as the Voyager exited the jump space. The familiar groaning of the hull systems always gives him a slight worry, but he has grown accustomed to it. However, he was not expecting the next comm channel declaration. Medical to Bridge? Wait, did something happen? He closed his manual and rushed out.

He didn't know how long it took him to reach the bridge, but as he entered, his eyes shifted to the body of Captain. He immediately started his preliminary examination. Pulse and pupil checking, as he turned his medscanner and started to get to work. His voice was serious but calm and he asked to no one specifically, "When did she collapse?"

DING, DING MEDICAL ALERT BRIDGE
The medical alert tone slices through Deck Two, sharp and unmistakable.

GM Question - besides the Doctor, who else is responding?

Boots pound across deck plating as crew funnel toward the narrow interdeck lift, the 1.5 by 1.5 meter space forcing them to move in tense, silent pairs. By the time they reach Deck One, the bridge feels wrong—not chaotic, not damaged, just unnaturally still.

Captain Halsson lies near the forward command console, half-turned where she fell. One arm is pinned awkwardly beneath her torso, the other extended toward the console edge as though she had tried to steady herself and failed. Her tablet has skidded several meters across the deck and now rests against the base of the holo-display pedestal. Edrin is kneeling before his Captain and it is apparent that he does not know what to do. Dr. Shone's question do not elicit a response from him.

There are no sparks, no damage indicators, no warning lights. Through the forward display, the blue-white primary burns with cold intensity while the distant blue-green world turns in silent orbit. The system remains utterly empty. No traffic. No signals. No change.

Ruiha occupies the primary helm, posture rigid, hands steady on the controls. She does not look away from her instruments reconfigured as flight controls.
Edrin stands a step back from the Captain as Dr. Shone moves forward, visibly restraining himself from intervening as the doctor arrives. His voice is controlled but tight. "No warning. No complaint. She stiffened and collapsed."Edrin steps closer but keeps his hands clear. He offers to the Doctor (and others?) "Her cabin is on this deck—port side, just aft of the bridge." The words linger in the air. The small lift behind the them is barely large enough for three standing adults, and a full stretcher will not fit. Movement will require careful coordination no matter the destination.
The bridge hums softly around them, systems steady, approach unchanged. Outside, the silent system offers no distraction, no interference, no urgency beyond their own.

Doctor Shone glances once toward the lift well, then down the corridor leading aft. The decision of where to move her rests with him. The ship continues its quiet approach toward an unresponsive world as he prepares to act.

Ruiha - what are her actions on maintaining one Gee and course? Or quicker speed? Course changes?

Actions?

Victor started to murmur to himself, "Arrhythmia? Neuronal disjunction? No no, that can't be it....must be hypoxia? Can it be?....May be...excess stress from prolonged working hours...." He then stopped and looked around. "I need to get her to the Medbay. So, I need strong and steady hands, please." He then started murmuring again, "What if arrythmia gets out of hand?....Hmm, still can induce with a adrenaline shot...probably?"

Edrin immediately volunteers. "I can help with that!"
He appears ready but a bit unsure of what to do.

"Full acceleration towards the planet. We don't see anything in the way and there should be human medical facilities there. The faster we get her to treatment the better. Maintain full passive scans. We'll go active in a few hours when we're closer. Radio to the planet will follow immediately after depending on the circumstances. Until then, everyone maintain normal operations and, if you're not on an active console, you're either resting or on call for any assistance Doc needs."

Virel had been seated at the auxiliary console studying the computer when the Captain collapsed. He did not move immediately. His eyes tracked the sequence instead.

Medical was already in motion. That was not his forte. Instead his gaze shifted to the Captain's tablet.

He crossed the bridge without haste, crouching beside it. For a moment he simply looked checking for visible damage. Whether there were sparks or warning indicators. He did not touch the display.

Instead, he tilted it slightly by the edge of the casing just enough to see what remained on screen - to see if it gave a clue to the Captain's reaction.

Bohdie has been in the crew common lounge making sure anyone coming through has hot kaffe and a bite of simple carbs to help ease the shock of Jump Emergence when the medical alert goes off. He moves quickly to the lift and makes sure the path is clear from medical allowing the Dr. To be the first on the lift. He goes up with the Doctor and surveys the situation.

The memories from the war flood back in. He forces himself to remain neutral and calms his mind. He moves forward, taking great care to not get in Dr. Shone’s way as he works on the Captain. Quietly, he moves up and says to Dr. Shone, "Doctor, you might want to check for signs of Psionic intrusion, especially if you don’t find any other causes. Keep it all quiet and let me know what you find."

He looks around the bridge, searching for indications that anyone else might be affected. The look on Edrin’s face gives him pause. He asks, "Hey Edrin, are you ok?" He waits for the reply, clearly concerned. Once he determines whether Edrin is ok, he shifts his focus to Ruiha.

Bohdie observes Ruiha for a long moment. Then he says, "Steady as she goes for now, Ru. I’m going to call Chaala up here to take over for the moment." Then he follows through.

"Bohdie to Chaala, please come to the bridge right away."

Victor nodded at Bohdie when he heard the suggestion, giving him a concerned look. He then looked at all the activity and calmly added, "There is no need to get planetside yet. I was checking our life-support system onboard the Voyager, and it can handle sophisticated and delicate operations. The only problem will be if we run out of effective drugs. For now, I want 2-3 strong volunteers who can carry her to the medbay steadily. Time is of the essence now and here. Come on, let us make haste."

"I can see no reason not to go full burn. Even if the facilities on the planet aren't as good as ours, they give us options if we need something the ship can't provide. Anything else is a lot farther away. Home is too far away to mean anything. I don't know what facilities Harrier might have, if she's still here, but any additional resources will be valid. Let's go with one IFF ping before we commit to the full burn and full active scans at the start of the deceleration if we don't hear anything."


Chaala will initiate IFF ping.

"One more thought. Doc, run a full toxicology screen. I don't know of any drug or poison that could be timed out for a full jump, but if Niparoo turns out to be actively hostile, we were vulnerable. If anything shows up, I want everyone treated as best we can ASAP."

With no medic skills of significance, JEEM continues his work. Not that he would be careless, but without being able to help, he stays there where he doesn't hinder people who have work to do, waiting until something happens where he can be of help.

Victor stood in the medbay reading and following all the reports. It almost feels like an intricate puzzle, but it absolutely feels that this kind of sustained body function is intricate and cannot be a normal occurrence. Something is forcing the body of the captain to remain like this. A medical instrument will follow standard procedure, its internal AI following the established protocol. But he, being the medical professional here, can extrapolate and identify straying patterns or not straying and incidentally maintained patterns. Both were anomalous, as a biological system does not follow a precise said path; it is always variable and stochastic at every instance. So why did it suddenly showed a erratic neural phase variance from the established deviations of normal neural network. He brought up the slight variation again and started analyzing the pattern with the previous neural network of the captain and that of the established standard neural pathways. Alongside that he remembered what Chalaa said, so he focused on a blood profile and heightened biomarkers activity in the captain liver. Was any xenobiotic being currently processed? How are the neurotransmitters working for the captain?

Wilbur rushes in at the alarm, immediately assisting Dr Shone.

— Be careful on approach. One of the surveyed worlds doesn’t even exist, and the atmospheric data on another is completely off. That level of discrepancy isn’t a simple mistake — not unless the entire survey crew was genuinely waisted.

Chaala sighs, "It seems I am. We should make it official in the system. Ranking active officer needs to officially activate me and transfer temporary command. As soon as Halson is able, she can verify or rescind activation and resume command." Chaala puts confidence in her voice, stating the Captain's eventual recovery as fact even if she's not so sure herself. "We'll want to move quickly but cautiously. Marinagua should be a wash of radio signals and it's far too quiet."


When Harrier's ping comes back, she will change standing orders. "Make for the moon, but let's come in quietly. Unless Doc overrides, our next step is to connect with Harrier and any of her crew that might be present, warm or cold. If they're in some kind of risk they could have gone into cold berth given they wouldn't know how long help would take to arrive. We're well ahead of the schedule the official orders would have had us on and if they were expecting that, any automated wake routine based on time wouldn't have triggered. They should have one for our ping, though. When we get there, we take quarantine protocols. Harrier will have information we need in her databanks and may have medical supplies we need, even if no one is aboard. Hopefully someone, or some record, will give us insight"

After the medical report. "Make sure everyone's screened even if it doesn't look like it came from Seital."

GM Comment - A couple of things are out of sequence (the Doctor's care and prognoses of Captain Halsson and the actions on the bridge) but I am going to stick this together. If a character helps the Doctor with a study roll of Admin and Computers, more data on the Captain's condition maybe forth coming.

Also Wilber mentioned the irregularities from the Published Survey of 1065 (Named the Second Survey) and the current system readings. only nine planets, etc. If someone looks into this (Again requires stated actions and a roll of Admin and Computer - more than one character can collaberate)

Towards the Moon of Marinagua

Twelve hours into the two-gee burn, the ship settles into disciplined rhythm. On the bridge, the formal command transfer is logged. With Captain Halsson incapacitated and under medical isolation, emergency authority provisions are invoked. Edrin confirms registry status and rank precedence. Chaala, retired Scout Administrator (Traveller Rank 2), holds superior service rank to both Edrin and Amara, though subordinate to Captain Halsson. Under IISS emergency continuity doctrine, temporary command authority is transferred and recorded. The sequence is witnessed and authenticated by Edrin and Amara simultaneously. Biometric logs seal the transfer under provisional status pending the Captain’s recovery or override. There is no ceremony—only quiet professionalism. The ship now answers to Chaala.


Marinagua's moon now fills a third of the forward display as they arc inward toward the lunar intercept window. Medical telemetry from Deck Two updates steadily: the Captain remains stable. Doctor Shone has transitioned the Autodoc from stabilization mode into extended diagnostic configuration. Deep neural mapping and bio-agent analysis cycles are running at full TL-15 resolution. No embolism. No hemorrhage. No seizure cascade. A pathogen signature has been isolated at trace levels within neural tissue—but comparative database cross-reference indicates it does not match any known Seital contaminants or biohazards previously encountered. The organism—or construct—remains unidentified. It is not spreading aggressively. It is simply… present. The Autodoc maintains cardiac regulation while Shone refines scan parameters for further analysis.

During the Two Gee burn to the moon of Marinagua the following data from the passive scans reveal the following, the system remains outwardly calm. No vessels rise from orbital shadow. No outbound merchant flares register. The expected orbital traffic lanes remain empty. Standard starport approach frequencies show no automated handshake protocols and no centralized routing signals. There is no evidence of orbital jamming—no carrier suppression, no signal masking. Space itself is quiet.

However, the system is not entirely empty.

Long-range passive returns begin identifying multiple cold objects in stable orbital bands—small metallic signatures with low thermal output and irregular reflective surfaces. Some are in orbit around the outer planets and some in the system. Their trajectories are precise but aged. Rotational drift and micrometeoroid scarring suggest long-term exposure. Spectral analysis indicates alloy compositions consistent with early industrial-era fabrication. Several appear to be in decaying medium orbit; others hold high elliptical paths. None are active. None transmit. Their power cores are cold.

The profile matches early in-system satellites—survey platforms, primitive comm relays, perhaps navigation beacons—likely a century old or more. Remnants of pre-stellar or early stellar exploration infrastructure left to drift. No recent maintenance signatures are detected.

As range decreases further, the long-range communications monitor begins registering structured surface-level transmissions. They are narrowband, layered, and disciplined—short bursts of analog-digital hybrid traffic moving across multiple regional bands. None conform to Imperial trade formatting. Audio buffers capture fragments of rapid, tonal speech marked by clipped consonants and repeating syllabic cadence—from the IISS files it is clearly Alejian (the minor race of the Planet) in origin.

The transmissions are encrypted—and not casually. Packet fragmentation, cipher rotation intervals, and signal masking techniques indicate communications security maintained at a level above the planetary technological baseline. Whatever internal instability may exist, encryption protocols remain deliberate and intact.

Distortion becomes measurable across specific orbital approach bands. It is not full-spectrum suppression. Instead, it manifests as structured broadband saturation applied with precision to civilian docking and handshake frequencies. The interference is geographically confined, centered right outside a large city the previous city identified as Balac Pontli with a the previously identified major Airport being converted to a starport.

The interference pattern suggests organized, ground-based control of that landing zone rather than a unified planetary defense network. Power signatures feeding the emitters are local and modular rather than centralized. The jamming does not extend across the hemisphere nor project aggressively into orbital lanes. It appears defensive in scope and territorial in application.

Balac Pontli itself displays irregular illumination along the night hemisphere. Districts burn bright; others remain dim. Industrial output appears reduced compared to archived projections, but there are no thermal scars or debris fields indicative of recent large-scale conflict.

Marinagua continues to fill the forward display—communicating constantly across its encrypted surface networks while offering nothing to orbit. The countdown to arrival continues to shorten as the ship presses inward under steady two-gee thrust, approaching a world that is neither silent nor welcoming, but carefully guarded and marked by the quiet relics of its own early ascent into space.

The remaining burn proceeds without incident. As they pass near Marinagua’s orbital plane, the planet dominates the starboard display—cloud decks sharp, ocean currents luminous beneath reflected starlight. Encrypted surface traffic spikes briefly as their vector shifts toward the moon, then settles back into patterned cadence. No planetary hail follows. The lunar body rotates slowly ahead, its dark hemisphere angled toward their approach. Passive scans reacquire the weak IISS handshake source from the cratered surface.

After twenty-nine hours of flight, the maneuver drive throttles down in controlled sequence. Two gee drops to one, then fractional thrust as they bleed velocity for lunar insertion. The moon’s barren landscape resolves in high detail: impact basins, regolith plains, fractured ridgelines. The crater containing the Harrier lies in partial shadow along the terminator line. Thermal readings show no active plume, no engine bloom, no elevated heat beyond residual passive emissions.

Close-range scanning begins as they enter low lunar orbit. The Harrier’s hull profile is clear now—intact, resting upright along the inner slope of the crater rim. Landing struts are deployed. No visible breach. No blast scoring. Hull integrity reads high—ninety-nine percent as previously reported. Power output remains minimal, confined to auxiliary systems. No reactor ignition. No drive cycling. Environmental readings show internal atmosphere stable but circulation reduced. Carbon dioxide levels marginally elevated—within survivable range, though long-term occupancy would be questionable. Crew biosigns remain absent at this resolution—faint fluctuations register but do not resolve cleanly into confirmed life or confirmed absence. Cold berth signatures are not yet visible, though deeper scan penetration may clarify.

As they descend toward final approach vector, medical telemetry updates again. The pathogen signature within Captain Halsson remains localized to neural clusters. It shows no replication surge and no systemic infection markers. It does, however, exhibit a subtle bio-electrical responsiveness when exposed to certain diagnostic frequencies—anomalous but not yet classifiable. Shone’s extended scan configuration continues compiling comparative models.

The ship settles into a low hover over the crater rim, dust undisturbed at this altitude. The Harrier rests below, silent and intact, partially shielded by stone...No external movement...No distress beacon...No defensive posture.

Just a Scout ship waiting in the dark, and another hovering above it.

When the option to help Dr. Shone with medical, Bohdie takes up the challenge. He will investigate whether this phenomenon has been recorded previously. He digs through the various records like only a seasoned administrator and investigator can, working feverishly to try to explain what is going on with the Captain.


Roll: Admin +2, Int +2, Computer +0
(An argument could be made for investigate to be used as well…)

Virel studies the tablet in silence, jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. The absence of anything tangible unsettles him more than confirmation would have. It did not look natural, but the Doctor is already working the problem, so he turns to other issues.

When Chaala formally assumes command, he meets her gaze briefly giving a look of recognition and acknowledgment, then turns to his console without comment. He pulls up all details they have on the Harrier. He scrolls through specifications in particular looking for anything the crew might have used for survival such as number and quality of low berths and any shuttle or external utility vehicles.

As the moon fills the display, he leans slightly forward, studying the surrounding terrain rather than the hull. He turns to Chaala and any of the others on the bridge.

"Any indication of surface disturbance beyond the crater? Tracks. Heat signatures. Structures? In case they are not on the scout."

On approach, Chaala digs deeper into the 1065 survey, looking for signs anything might have been altered or fabricated intentionally. Missing or adding planets was not something a competent Scout survey team does. The possiblity that planets have been moved was too far outside the probability bands as to be ignored, for now.

As the moon swells across the forward display and the crater rim sharpens into defined shadow, passive and low-energy focused scans sweep the surrounding terrain. The sensor profile remains tight and controlled, deliberately narrow in emission footprint—sufficient for high-resolution surface mapping without broadcasting their precise position beyond normal approach noise. No broad-spectrum ping is used; no high-energy signature blooms outward. From an orbital observer’s perspective, nothing has changed.

The crater itself resolves clearly now. The ISS Harrier sits upright along the inner slope, landing struts deployed and hull orientation consistent with a controlled descent rather than a crash. The regolith around the struts shows compressed displacement patterns, partially softened by twenty-four weeks of micrometeor dusting but still visible under oblique thermal contrast. Even after months of particulate settling, the landing impression is unmistakable.

There are no additional disturbance trails radiating away from the ship. No rover tracks. No footpaths. No regolith displacement consistent with repeated traffic. No structures or temporary shelters. Thermal readings across the crater floor and rim remain uniform with lunar baseline cooling cycles. No secondary heat blooms appear beyond the Harrier’s minimal auxiliary signature.

The scan does, however, reveal an absence.

The Harrier’s docking cradle is empty.

The 50-ton Cutter that should be mounted externally is not present. Mount integrity shows clean separation, not explosive removal. No debris field surrounds the vessel. The docking collar appears properly disengaged.

Edrin studies the display for several seconds before speaking.

"There are no impact scars consistent with uncontrolled launch," he says evenly. "No secondary debris. If the Cutter left, it did so under power and cleanly."

He shifts the magnification slightly, rechecking the perimeter. "No tracks away from the crater. No surface infrastructure. No additional hull signatures within immediate range."

His gaze moves briefly to Chaala. "It appears the Harrier landed deliberately. The Cutter is gone."

A beat passes as the implications settle. "There could be a message on board that informs us of where they are—or went to."

The moon remains still beneath them, dust undisturbed beyond the Harrier’s landing scars. The ship rests alone in the crater, intact, silent, and missing one very important piece.

Seeing Bohdie step in to assist with the captain’s condition, Wilbur turns back to the 1065 survey. He pulls up the data, cross‑checks entries, and starts working through the discrepancies with steady focus. One world missing entirely, another with atmospheric readings that make no sense—he goes line by line, trying to understand how such errors could have slipped through.

The data and report on Captain Halsson from Dr. Shone's research and prognosis

Medical Status Brief – Captain Halsson
Prepared by: Dr. Shone
Distribution: Senior Officers
Classification: Command-Level

---

Current Condition

• Captain Halsson suffered an acute neurovascular event involving the brainstem.
• Microvascular obstruction occurred in autonomic regulation pathways.
• Cardiac dysrhythmia was secondary to neurological disruption.
• She is currently stabilized via medical support systems.
• She remains unconscious under controlled sedation.

---

Cause (Preliminary Determination)

• The vascular obstruction was not thrombotic in origin.
• Calcified protein structures were identified along brainstem arterial branches.
• Structural analysis confirms these formations are non-Terran in origin.
• Colonization pattern indicates long-term presence within vascular tissue.
• Estimated duration of presence: 5–7 standard years.

This was not a spontaneous stroke.
This was the activation of a dormant xenobiological colonization.

---

Organism Behavior

• The foreign protein lattice demonstrates structured architecture.
• It is partially resistant to standard nanomedical dissolution.
• Under stress, the structure exhibits adaptive compaction behavior.
• No evidence currently suggests transmissibility.

Containment protocols remain precautionary.

---

Treatment Plan

Immediate Objective

• Maintain stabilization.
• Prevent further activation.
• Map full colonization network.

Long-Term Objective

• Develop a targeted molecular countermeasure.
• Gradually destabilize and dissolve the foreign lattice without damaging autonomic tissue.

This process requires iterative testing and refinement.

---

Time Estimate
Best-case scenario for safe removal:
Two to three weeks.

This estimate assumes:

• No further activation events.
• Successful development of targeted nanomedical adjustments.
• No secondary cascade complications.

---

Prognosis

• Survival probability remains favorable under controlled care.
• Neurological outcome cannot yet be fully assessed.
• Full recovery is possible, but not guaranteed.
• Early aggressive removal attempts would carry unacceptable risk.

---

Administrative Recommendation

Captain Halsson is medically unfit for command during treatment. Temporary command authority should be formalized until further notice.
Further updates will be provided as analysis progresses.

It felt that Victor was back on his research laboratory and trying to piece out an intricate puzzle even when a patient as important as Captain Halsson was in danger. All the data came pouring on as he continued to work on isolating this unique xeno microlife form. Something that all indication showed a targeted and deliberate way to infect Halsson. It was as if absolutely designed specifically for the Captain. Like an intricately constructed 'kill switch' to terminate its victim that cannot be detected easily and pass out as just another neural failure leading to cardiac arrest. He didn't want to accept it but internally he was excited at the prospect of researching such a devios agent of xeno-bio-warfare weaponry. He was initially suspecting Niparoo but it doesn't seem to be something that happened recently. The inoculation occured quite sometime ago and it had been lying dormant, hiding, waiting for the perfect moment.

As Bohdie came to assist his research, Shone told him everything he had learned and profusely thanked him for contributing his expertise in sifting through the past logs of the captain. This was surely going to give some information and Bohdie delivered the crucial information he needed. This was a micro-organism from the planet of Apratib, a dense humid world which definitely gave a very sturdy environment for developing and evolution of myriad lifeforms. So, did the Burugdi diplomats deliberately exposed her to this xenomicrobe or was it accidental? How did their medical scan failed to detect the infection or was it botched intentionally? All this questions were not important now. What was important was how to stop this microbe from functioning? He needed to create an anti-microbial drug to save the captain.

Meanwhile, JEEM works over some minor engineering problem, trying to rely on logic more than on experience.

"Sounds like we have effectively no existing data on this system or the planet below. Current scans are more accurate than the Survey data, so we rely on those. We'll dedicate some computer cycles to cryptanalysis and break the codes that are being used on the surface to get a better fix on the situation. Based on the lack of traffic or current space based operations, they're not operating at the Tech Level in the survey, at least not in all areas, so we should be able to break their crypto given time. Possible Harrier has that information already."

Chaala looks at the scans of Harrier, "It looks like the set her down here to keep her safe then took the cutter, presumably to hide out on the planet. Good news, we've solved part one of the assignment. Bad news, Dominicus and the crew are in hiding and the cutter did not respond ot our ping. They also had reason to stay here and not Jump out. They also had reason to believe that Harrier was not safe on the planetary surface and hid it here. This is speculation. Hopefully they left us a more complete message once we handshake and establish our credentials."

Since Dr. Shone has an answer, Bohdie will get caught up on the situation and volunteers to go over, his admin and investigative skills might be of use over there.

"Let's set down in the crater. Give ourselves a good cushion in case anything goes wrong. We've already got one volunteer. I need someone with computer skills and someone to handle engineering. Doc, your call if you want to head over or be on standby. I'll monitor from here. I think we should have one of the crew who was on Active status when Harrier last synced with the IISS systems, just in case we need authorized access. My access won't work until we get the systems talking to each other."

As Bohdie is taking his leave of the Doctor, he pauses, turns and says, "Doctor Shone, I noticed one other thing in the Captain’s file… well, not precisely in her file, but rather as an aside to the mission she was on. The Burugdi homeworld has a similar taint as was noted on Apratib. As far as I can tell, that particular taint only seems to have appeared after the Burugdi arrived and it was noticeably worse within their enclave. That might well be worth looking into further.

Bohdie turns again to leave and just before he turns out the door, he looks back again. "And Doctor, the Burugdi… they are Psionic."

Chaala used the Captain's station to initiate connection to Harrier's systems. Full sync requested.

With both vessels operating at low power, the decision is made to establish a direct systems bridge rather than continue blind internal exploration. A wide-spectrum transmission would risk unnecessary exposure to planetary monitoring, so the link is configured as a tight-beam, line-of-sight transmission between the two hulls resting within the crater.

A coherent laser carrier initializes first—precisely aligned between emitter nodes on each vessel. The beam is nearly invisible beyond fractional divergence. A secondary maser channel activates in parallel, phased and collimated to provide redundant data continuity in the event of particulate interference. The meson communicator remains available but unused; at this range, discretion outweighs penetration.

The Scout code set engages.

Authentication packets transmit in segmented micro-bursts. Encryption keys rotate in rapid sequence, each fragment validated before the next is accepted. Vessel registry identifiers, Scout service credentials, mission orders, and emergency command transfer logs cycle through layered handshake protocols. The structure resembles a hardened tactical lattice—descended from early Imperial fleet data links but refined for long-duration autonomous Scout deployments. This is all accomplished in milliseconds of time.

The Harrier responds.

Initial handshake: challenge issued.
Secondary authentication: accepted.
Command authority verification: confirmed.

The encrypted data tunnel stabilizes.

Through the laser-maser bridge, the Harrier’s systems architecture unfolds across the receiving displays. Core memory integrity reads nominal. Environmental systems are stable. Auxiliary fusion cell output is sufficient for sustained low-operation mode. Reactor ignition controls appear available under authenticated authority; no lockout flags are present. Navigation logs terminate cleanly at the lunar descent profile. No automated distress signal is active.

Crew registry files populate in full.

Archived logs become accessible.

Captain’s logs—Junior Administrator Silva Dominicus—appear intact and chronologically ordered. Engineering reports, sensor captures, internal correspondence, and mission annotations are available through the secure Scout bridge.

Only specific hardware-level safeties remain locally restricted—cold berth activation cycles, physically engaged engineering interlocks, compartment lockdown overrides, and destruct protocol access. These require console-level confirmation aboard the Harrier itself. All other command-tier systems—including propulsion and reactor startup—are accessible through authenticated authority.

Bandwidth remains disciplined and contained within the tight-beam corridor. No omnidirectional signal blooms outward. From the surface below, nothing registers beyond background emissions.

In the crater, the Harrier’s computer no longer operates in isolation.

Two TL–15 Scout vessels now share a silent, secure beam of light across regolith and vacuum.

Captain Silva Dominicus’s logs wait within memory banks that are no longer sealed.

And whatever occurred before the Harrier landed is now only a command away from being read.

"No on-contact message waiting, so let's dig into the logs. We'll want to dig into Dominicus' logs going back at least since Pautho, but let's start with the last and work backwards for now. I want as many eyes on this as possible. If anything is marked as restricted, check in, but otherwise assume it's part of the mission that we get as many perspectives as possible on the situation ASAP."

ISS Harrier — Captain’s Log Series
======================================

Officer: Junior Administrator Silvia Dominicus
Vessel: ISS Harrier (Telemon-Class Exploratory Scout)
Mission: Marinagua Survey & Contact
Classification: Amber–Survey

---

Captain’s Log 1
--------------------------------------

Mission Day 1 — Arrival & Initial Orbital Insertion

Jump emergence nominal. No anomalies.

Harrier entered high elliptical insertion trajectory under reduced emission profile. No active transponder broadcast. No system declaration.

Passive sweep indicates fragmented surface communications. No unified orbital traffic control.

Initial thermal mapping suggests uneven population density. Multiple cold zones where metropolitan signatures should exist.

Atmospheric composition tainted but non-corrosive. Habitable with protection.

Preliminary impression:
Planetary civilization persists — but continuity has been disrupted.

We will remain masked.

---

Captain’s Log 2
--------------------------------------

Mission Day 7 — Radiological & Traffic Assessment

Radiation readings collected Mission Day 3, 5, and 7. Two additional deliberate recalibration passes conducted to contrast and compare isotopic decay curves.

Multiple urban regions exhibit radiation signatures consistent with tactical nuclear detonation no more than fifty years ago and no less than forty years ago. Based on isotopic decay modeling, I am fairly certain the strikes occurred approximately fifty years ago.

Detonation distribution suggests internal conflict, not orbital bombardment.

Communications intercepts now provide greater clarity:

• Standard radio traffic indicates one major urban center remains active.
• Starship transits are consistently referenced to that city.
• Multiple factions referenced within city broadcasts — 6 to 8 primary power blocs identified.
• Additional radio signatures indicate 6 major external factions beyond the city, plus numerous minor tribal authorities.

The planet is not unified. It is factionalized.

Traffic Event — Mission Day 5:

A cargo tonnage vessel (approximate 2000 dTon mass; silhouette closely matching NSTC cargo vessels observed previously in Seital) lifted from planetary surface and departed system on non-military vector.

Vessel did not detect Harrier presence.

Orbital masking using lunar occlusion continues to be effective.

Conclusion:
Corporate presence confirmed.
Centralized planetary authority unlikely.

---

Captain’s Log 3
--------------------------------------

Mission Day 14 — Surface Infrastructure & Faction Mapping

Six micro-observation satellites deployed under staggered orbital decay arcs.

Data fusion from satellite triangulation confirms:

A large bi-runway former international landing complex consistent with pre-collapse starport infrastructure conversion from a civil/military airport facility.

Runway resurfacing partial. Apron reconstruction limited. Hangar usage visible.

Additionally detected:

Three vessels in Far Trader tonnage class parked on the surface at that "star port."
One additional vessel entered the system on Mission Day 11 and landed at this facility.

Surface radio analysis confirms:

The surviving major city is named Balac Pontli.

Further signal traffic confirms:

• 6–8 dominant factions operating inside Balac Pontli.
• 6 major factions operating outside the city across the planet.
• Numerous minor splinter groups.

Balac Pontli appears to be the political and transit nexus.

Old civil/military airport facility is functioning as ad hoc starport.

Notably, transits concentrate there — not at templated corporate enclaves or assumed Niparoo trade districts.

This changes the contact calculus.

---

Captain’s Log 4
--------------------------------------

Mission Day 15 — Multi-Phase Contact Plan Formulated

The factional radio traffic from Balac Pontli has clarified operational risk.

Phase I — Orbital Recon: Complete.
Phase II — Off-Starport Surface Insertion: Approved.

Cutter will deploy to a minor coastal settlement outside Balac Pontli control sphere.

Objectives:

• Assess tribal authority structures.
• Determine balance of power.
• Evaluate relationship between factions and corporate enclave.
• Establish contact without triggering centralized scrutiny.

Harrier will remain masked in lunar occlusion orbit.

If Phase II yields sufficient political clarity, Phase III will proceed.

---

Captain’s Log 5
--------------------------------------

Mission Day 23 — Phase II Successful

Surface insertion conducted.

Contact achieved with minor tribal authority.

Preliminary findings confirm:

• No single faction controls Balac Pontli.
• Corporate presence influential but not dominant.
• Religious and custodial factions exert non-territorial authority.
• Starport facility is contested but tolerated.

Information gathered supports necessity of controlled landing at the former international facility — not at corporate apron zones and not near the Far Trader berths.

Additional two-day orbital scan of Balac Pontli completed.

Urban layout:

• Fortified palace complex central.
• Surrounding fortified family structures.
• Peripheral districts fragmented.
• Starport connected via direct arterial corridor.

Conclusion:
Landing at the starport itself provides maximum informational leverage.

Landing at corporate enclave would concede narrative control.

---

Captain’s Log 6
--------------------------------------

Mission Day 25 — Surface Commitment to Balac Pontli

Harrier transitioning to deep sleep mode within lunar shadow.

Power output reduced. Passive systems only. No emission signature.

Cutter prepped for descent to Balac Pontli.

Estimated surface survey duration: one to two weeks.

Team ready.

I will conduct direct assessment of:

• Alejia faction leadership
• Urban power distribution
• Corporate influence
• Starport control structures

We are not here to impose.
We are here to understand.

Commander Mervik will be so proud of me.

—
Correction: Personal remark logged.

I am ready.

End log.

Virel finishes scanning the final log entry and remains silent for several seconds.

"She landed deliberately," he says at last. "Masked the Harrier. Took the Cutter to Balac Pontli. The Cutter did not return."

His eyes stay on the lunar display.

"That leaves two possibilities. Either circumstances prevented return… or they chose not to."

A brief pause.

"Both are speculation."

He turns slightly toward Chaala.

"We need more data before we go looking for it."

Another beat.

"Logs tell us what she chose to record. The ship may tell us what she chose not to."

His tone remains even.

"I recommend we board Harrier first and search it for additional details. It may clarify what we’re walking into before we commit."

"I concur with your assessment. The sooner we can get code keys and monitor surface communication for any mention of offworlders, the better. The mission is still extracting the team. Whatever data they've gathered on the surface will have to suffice for the survey, with the scans we took and they took."

Chaala looks at Dr. Shone. "Assuming Harrier is still viable, does it make sense to send Azure Voyager away from Marinagua? If there is a local component, psionic or otherwise, it might help you and the autodoc get Captain Halssan back on her feet. I'm thinking we can send her to the gas giant for wilderness refueling and at least see if a few AU is far enough to help and then Voyager is ready to jump if we need it or if you think parsecs distance are needed."

Some basic questions:

How many crew were there on Harrier and why were none (apparently) left with the ship?
Is anything known about the Traders at the port? Did any depart during the observation period or only the 1 arrive and they all stayed there. Is it known what factions they belong to/are visiting?
Who are the factions. Are the 6 in the city the same as the 6 in the rest of the world?
Is there a significant human presence other than Niparoo?

Wilbur finishes going through the Harrier’s logs, expression unreadable. There’s not enough hard data to challenge anything yet, so he simply gives a short nod.

"I will go on board the ISS Harrier, if that’s good with you, Captain."

"Works for me." Chaala nods. "Amara, I want you to go with the team to Harrier. Looks like we'll need to get to the surface to find the missing crew and I'm not risking Voyager and Halsson for that. I need you to get Harrier prepped for take off and give her a thorough check over."

JEEM is preparing to provide emergency assistance, including equipment, but is still remaining on the Azure Voyager.

Movement to ISS Harrier

Aboard the Azure Voyager

The decisions are made; Virel, Wilber, Bohdie, and Amara move first.

The corridor lighting aboard the Azure Voyager is steady and clinical as they enter the equipment locker. Vacc suits hang in orderly rows, helmets sealed, gauntlets magnetized to their brackets. The hum of environmental systems feels suddenly loud.

One by one, suit seals are checked and verified, power levels confirmed, comms synchronized to a tight-beam internal channel, and the external hard-vac link opened to ship control.

Gloves lock with a muted click. Helmets rotate into place and seal with a pressurized hiss. Suit integrity indicators bloom green across their HUDs.

Over internal comms, telemetry from the bridge confirms the Harrier shows no change in environmental status, no active transponder, and no heat bloom beyond baseline decay.

Dr. Shone stands near the hatch, not intruding, but observing. JEEM operates a hand terminal wirelessly linked to each vacc suit and to the ship’s computer core for additional processing power, monitoring live camera feeds, biometric telemetry, and real-time stress indicators for every team member.

Amara glances toward Chaala and asks over comms "How do you want us to transit, any last minute instructions?"

The inner airlock door cycles open.

They step inside.

The outer door seals.

Atmospheric pressure drops with a descending tone. The last whisper of air thins into silence.

Red indicators shift to blue.

Bridge telemetry confirms hard vacuum.

The outer hatch unlocks with a heavy mechanical clunk.

Blackness waits beyond.

Transit Between Ships

The ISS Harrier rests on the lunar surface roughly forty meters from the Azure Voyager’s port side.

Dark.

Still.

Its hull reflects distant starlight in dull metallic planes. No running lights. No maneuvering thrusters cycling. Just a powered-down silhouette against regolith and shadow.

Mag boots engage as the outer hatch of the Azure Voyager opens onto the surface ramp. The ramp folds down from the second-level airlock to the ground below, settling into the pale dust.

They descend in single file, boots compressing fine lunar regolith in the moon’s reduced gravity. The landscape is silent and stark—no atmosphere, no wind—only the faint vibration of suit servos and the steady rhythm of their own breathing over comms.

Wilber leads the approach across the forty meters of open ground.

Bohdie pauses midway, scanning the Harrier’s dorsal hull and landing struts. No visible hull breaches. No scoring. No emergency patchwork.

Amara sweeps with suit-mounted sensors.
"External temperature within expected drift parameters. No micro-fracture alarms."

Virel’s gaze fixes on the Harrier’s airlock hatch.

Closed.

Unlit.

Waiting.

At the ISS Harrier Airlock

The Harrier’s hull feels colder beneath their boots.

Amara kneels at the manual access panel. No external power feed. Amara indicates she is switching to a local bypass. She connects a portable power patch from his suit utility port to the emergency panel. Indicators flicker faintly.

A pause.

Then a dull internal thud. The outer hatch unlocks. They cycle through carefully—no assumptions. Inner chamber sealed. Pressure test.

"Atmosphere reading trace. Near vacuum. Structural integrity intact." Amara reports.

Wilber initiates controlled repressurization from suit reserves. The lights in the airlock flicker on and a thin whisper of recycled air fills the chamber. Indicators stabilize to survivable levels. The inner door opens slowly and the lights inside the Harrier remain dark.. then...

Emergency strips along the deck flicker once… then hold. The openness of the cargo deck is present as the lights flicker on. The 9 meter by 20 meter cargo bay is not large, but after spending time on the small cramp-style of the Azure Voyager, the cargo bay is quite large. As per they Telemon class digital layout on JEEM monitor as he tracks everyone, the same digital schematic is holographical display on Bohdie's hand terminal showing the lift directly across the cargo deck.

Still.

Too still.

Inside the ISS Harrier

Dust motes float in microgravity.

A coffee bulb, half-secured, hangs suspended where it was last released.

No bodies.

No visible violence.

But the air feels abandoned.

Amara moves to the engineering access node and taps into the Harrier’s internal system. "Routing through auxiliary bus… let’s see what you’ve been hiding," she says, her voice steady and analytical over the comm.

After a few seconds, dim system lights respond. System diagnostics indicate the core power was shut down manually, not due to cascade failure but through controlled procedure.

Outside, aboard the Azure Voyager, Ruiha tracks their biosigns. Chaala does not move from the observation screen. Dr. Shone watches the telemetry with narrowed eyes. JEEM simply records.

The Harrier is not wrecked...It is not damaged...It is simply… empty.

Actions?

Chaala lets out a slow breath. "Let's make sure we get all the data synced between the ships and that Harrier is ready to fly."

After a pause, "I've been thinking. Whatever happened down on the planet, only a completely uninformed party would not know that there's a ship out here somewhere, since that cutter didn't get there on it's own. If we land at the spaceport, and any faction knows of and, quite possibly, interacted with or interfered with the ground scouting, they'll connect us immediately. I don't know how good Harrier's stealth capabilities are, but I want to assess the possiblity of a wilderness landing and hiding. Also, I hope they took the time to fully fuel her up before they left, otherwise we'll need to do that before we effect a rescue, should one be necessary."

Bohdie listens to the exchanges while investigating the Harrier’s interior. "Chaala, I feel I should point out that the Harrier is not, repeat, not designed for atmospheric flight. It would be a bad idea to try to fly her to attempt any landing on Marinagua, unless, of course, the intention is to use the resulting breakup fireworks as a distraction, of course."

Bohdie will continue to investigate the ship, looking to find any clues the crew may have left behind, including but not limited to post-it style notes, logs left on computer screens, personal hand comps, journals, notebooks, etc. He will also check for evidence of being bugged, like the crew of Azure Voyager was on Seital or at least whether or not any crew members took advantage of the shower and laundry services offered by Niparoo.


Investigate roll: skill +2, INT +2 (2d6+4)

Virels suggests the following goals once inside: (list can be amended and/or revised by anyone else)
- Get a sense of how it was left: Everything packed away to indicate a long absent or items left out expecting something shorter
- Check low berths and confirm that none are used or active
- Search for evidence that no one else has been here
- Search for any physical details of where they were going or what they knew/suspected (i.e. a map laying on a table)
- Try to access computer systems and/or any personal computing devices to determine any information

While Bohdie is off investigating the rest of the ship. Virel is in the bridge try to access the computer but he is having difficulties.

Inside the ISS Harrier

The team advances into the Harrier’s interior under auxiliary lighting, their suit lamps cutting controlled arcs through the dim corridor. Fine particulates drift lazily in the low-gravity environment, disturbed only by their movement. The air carries the sterile stillness of a vessel that has not cycled life support in weeks.

The common area presents no signs of struggle. A coffee bulb remains magnetized near the galley station, long evaporated to a faint mineral ring. Seating is secured. Storage compartments are latched. Personal lockers remain sealed. Nothing appears hastily packed. Nothing suggests long-term departure preparations. The ship feels suspended in time rather than abandoned.

Virel conducts a structured environmental assessment, moving from habitation indicators to system status. The pattern is consistent throughout the compartment spaces: normal stowage, secured equipment, no scattered gear, no signs of emergency egress. The low berth compartment confirms all units inactive. No recent thaw cycles are recorded. No life signs register. Access panels and hatch seals show no micro-scoring or forced entry indicators. There is no visible evidence that a secondary party boarded the vessel after shutdown.

At the engineering access node, Amara initiates a controlled systems review. "I’m bringing her from battery low-state to full operational reserve," she reports evenly. "Priority routing to Life Support." Indicators respond in sequence as she reallocates power. "Life Support coming online now. We’ll have stable atmosphere shortly."

As subsystems awaken, environmental processors begin cycling dormant air through filtration. Pressure climbs gradually. Thermal systems stabilize. Within minutes, atmosphere reaches survivable parameters. Amara confirms the transition. "Life Support stable. You can come out of vacc suits."

Primary consoles respond to input once fuller power is restored, but command-tier encryption remains intact. Virel's attempts at access the personal or crew station logs exceed his privileges and will require higher credentials,

System diagnostics confirm that core power was not lost to cascade failure; it was shut down deliberately and in controlled sequence.

Throughout the interior, the absence of disturbance remains the most striking detail. No overturned furnishings. No blood trace. No emergency patching. No visible indication of violence. The Harrier is structurally sound, mechanically intact, and systematically powered down.

Searching the first two crew quarters and their clothing Bohdie reviews their clothing with his hand terminal and it reveals no Niparoo (NSTC) bugs in their clothing. Bohdie is able to access the personal log of

Current Findings:

• No signs of forced entry or secondary boarding
• No indication of hurried evacuation or long-term packing
• Low berths inactive; no life signs detected
• Core power shut down manually through controlled procedure
• Full battery power restored; Life Support now stable
• Secured computer logs require command-level authentication
• No visible evidence of struggle or physical damage

---

Bohdie's discovery of two personal logs to follow

Recovered Personal Logs — 24 Weeks Ago

---

Personal Log — Scout Apprentice Freja Gruber

Cutter Launch Pilot
Timestamp: 24 Weeks Prior (Pre-Launch Window)

Launch minus twelve hours and I still can’t sleep.

I’ve run the Cutter preflight three times. She’s clean. Fuel margins well inside tolerance. Descent solution plotted for Marinagua’s downport approach profile. It’s not quite "first contact" — but it feels close enough to matter.

The Alejia are confirmed sophonts. Structured. Industrial. Politically layered. We are not arriving as conquerors or traders — at least not officially. We’re Scouts.

I get to take us down there.

Captain Dominicus says our role is observation first, voice second. Listen more than we speak.

I keep thinking about what it means to see another intelligent species on their own world — to walk into a culture that solved physics, chemistry, and governance without our history behind it.

Modified first contact or not… it’s still history.

Descent profile saved under a private name: Quiet Footprint.

We launch in the morning.

— F.G.

Personal Engineering Log — Scout Recruit Feng Larsen

Junior Engineer
Timestamp: 24 Weeks Prior (Pre-Descent Preparations)

Atmosphere modeling complete for first-layer entry. Marinagua reads standard mix with taint — particulates and industrial pollutants. Nothing catastrophic, but I don’t trust first passes.

I adjusted the Cutter’s intake sequencing to prioritize adaptive filtration during lower descent. It’s aggressive, but safe.

Freja’s excited. I can hear it in her voice every time she runs the approach sim.

I am too.

This may not be pure first contact, but it’s close enough that it changes how we act. The Alejia are organized, populous, and technologically capable at a regional scale. I want to see how they solved their problems. I want to see if their engineering mirrors ours — or if it diverged completely.

Captain Dominicus says diplomacy matters most.

For me, it’s data. Patterns. Evidence.

We launch tomorrow.

When we leave, I want this entry to read like the start of something important.

— F. Larsen

Bohdie’s Structured Search

Bohdie begins where a professional always begins — the duty stations. Virel stays close, tracking the same pattern from a different angle: what a Scout crew chose to leave visible, and what they chose to secure.

They move through the Bridge first. Five to ten minutes per station, no wasted motion. Neither man disturbs configuration unnecessarily; they read the space as a whole.

Command chair alignment appears normal. Console brightness levels were reduced before shutdown. There are no hurried logouts frozen mid-task, no half-entered commands, no frantic scribbles on bulkheads.

At Navigation, Bohdie locates a planetary observation overlay still cached in local memory — Marinagua’s equatorial industrial density highlighted in amber, Balac Pontli circled twice with a stylus marker. A small notation remains on the margin of the local display buffer, the kind of quick reference left for the next watchstander: Atmospheric particulates trending above model — confirm adaptive intake on Cutter.

Sensors station shows no unknown vessel contacts prior to shutdown. No proximity alarms. No boarding alerts. External camera buffers show only standard surface landing operations and routine exterior checks.

Docking control confirms Cutter separation: clean launch parameters, successful departure, no distress flag on departure sequence. The Harrier did not scramble. It executed a normal procedure.

Engineering duty console remains orderly. The shutdown sequence was manual and controlled. No cascading fault. No emergency override. No heat spike. No containment warnings.

If there was fear, it did not originate aboard the Harrier.

---

EVA Stations & Docking Control (Wilber’s Findings)

Wilber takes point on EVA prep and docking interfaces. He moves like a technician who knows exactly what "wrong" looks like.

Suit lockers and EVA stations show complete inventory discipline: seals intact, lockers latched, tools returned to their rails. No missing suit components beyond the expected Cutter crew allocation. No unexplained tool gaps. No torn restraint netting. No magnetic scarring that would suggest hurried gearing-up or forced movement through the hatch.

He checks the inner surfaces of the airlock and the docking collar for telltale signs — micro-scratches on panel latches, stress marks on the dogging wheel, residue patterns that suggest repeat cycling under improper pressure.

Nothing abnormal.

Docking umbilicals show normal disconnect wear. No surge-burn patterns. No forced separation. No splice marks where someone tried to draw power externally. The Harrier did not repel boarders. It did not undergo an emergency departure.

It shut itself down and stayed put.

---

Crew Quarters Sweep (Wilber, Virel, and Bohdie)

Now they slow down.

This is where intent reveals itself.

Wilber, Virel, and Bohdie work through the crew spaces with a different tempo: not intrusive, but thorough. They are not tearing panels open or dumping lockers — not yet — but they are watching for the subtle indicators of surveillance, tracking, or outside manipulation.

Personal effects remain. Clothing folded. Data slates docked in charging cradles. The commons is secured. Storage compartments are latched. Nothing suggests long-term packing. Nothing suggests hurried evacuation.

They check for the things a professional looks for when someone has been "visited":

- concealed micro-transmitters embedded in fixtures
- modified power couplings indicating parasitic surveillance
- passive RF repeaters tucked behind access panels
- biometric spoof hardware
- "hospitality gifts" that do not belong aboard a Scout ship

They find none.

No covert devices detected. No hidden transmitters. No passive tracking nodes. If Seital provided "hospitality," it did not follow them aboard.

Several cabins contain scattered research notes on Alejia governance structures, industrial output estimates, and atmospheric modeling — enthusiastic, analytic, curious. The private spaces read like people preparing to meet a new world, not people bracing for an ambush.

---

Dominicus’ Cabin (Last) — Bohdie

Bohdie saves Dominicus’ space for last.

Junior Administrator — mission authority by circumstance, command by necessity.

Her cabin is spartan. Desk clear. Most items secured. A small physical notebook remains in a drawer — not locked, not displayed, simply placed where it belongs.

The notes are short and disciplined. Operational reminders. Not fear.

- Observe first. No assumptions.
- Need to determine the purpose of the Niparoo Trade Corporation here.
- Balac Pontli court structure layered — do not conflate tribes.
- Modified first contact still counts.

There is no evacuation checklist. No contingency entry reading If we do not return. Her personal terminal is present and powered down with the rest of the ship. Nothing about the space suggests hurried deletion or a last-minute purge.

If Dominicus anticipated danger, she did not record it here.

---

Operational Assessment (Preliminary)

By the time Bohdie completes the sweep, a coherent pattern has emerged.

- No evidence of forced boarding or covert surveillance aboard Harrier
- No signs the crew evacuated in haste
- No concealed tracking or Seital hardware present
- Cutter launch appears deliberate, orderly, and confident
- Crew materials reflect intellectual curiosity and structured preparation
- Dominicus’ notes indicate caution and posture — not alarm

Amara verifies fuel state after restoring power routing, checking it twice before stating it with certainty: "Fuel tanks are full. They topped off right after system entry."

That detail matters.

They did not arrive short on margin. They did not rush descent. They entered the system prepared.

Given the crew complement and mission parameters, the working conclusion becomes difficult to ignore: this is the scene of a Scout crew that purposely left to conduct their mission. With limited manpower and limited time, they kept the Harrier in a low-profile hide position on the moon, reduced signature, preserved reserves, and then landed the Cutter to conduct the remainder of the mission planetside.

Bohdie is not standing in the aftermath of a crisis.

He is standing in the preserved shell of an operation that was executed deliberately — confident, prepared, and expecting to return.

The strongest evidence aboard the Harrier is not fear.

It is purpose.

Wilbur stands frozen for a moment, genuinely taken aback.

"Why would they abandon ship to go down to the planet? It goes against every protocol in the Scout and Marine manuals — and basic common sense. You never leave a vessel completely unattended, not even in an emergency. Yet nothing here suggests a forced evacuation. Everything looks routine, orderly. I don’t understand."

"Limited personnel. They prioritized the information gathering mission and took everyone. They don't have Ironhand support and it sounded like they were going to make open contact with some of the factions, at least the Human ones, so having sufficient force to avoid easy capture makes sense. May not be the decisions we would make, but that's been the case with several choices that the local IISS brass have gone with."

Chaala pauses, "I'm going to get suited up and head over to see if it's accepted my position and I can get to the more secure data. Edrin, Amara, Ruiha, I want a plan for wilderness refueling both ships. Actually, two plans. One for using the nearest gas giant and one for using surface water. Sounds like we might be able to get in and do that, but I don't think it's our primary option."

One thing that that may not be related to any personnel log entry but should surely be in the Ship's Log is the telemetry from the microsats that were deployed. Maybe it won’t show anything out of the ordinary but Bohdie would want to see any recordings of the launch transitioning to the planet surface from as many angles as possible. In particular, he's looking for the launch's path down into the atmosphere and whether or not anything unusual might have happened during the trip from the Lunar surface to its ground landing. Then verifying the launch's landing location (I believe I read that it was not going to the Starport?) and maybe any satellite images or data since the launch landed. Later analysis would include any imagery or other telemetry that might show alien influences on the native culture (ie Niparoo or Korsumug or other). But Bohdie would most likely save that sort of work for team analysis later. His main concern at the moment is what happened to the launch and her crew.

Bohdie – Satellite Recon Analysis Report
Source: Six Harrier Recon Satellites (Dominicus deployment)
Coverage Window: Day 0 – Day 168 (Present)
Location: Ad Hoc Starport outside Balac Pontli
(Current Port Class D – post-war degraded facility)

---

1 ▪ Cutter Landing Location

• The Cutter landed at the Ad Hoc Starport outside Balac Pontli.
• Current Port Class D reflects this improvised post-war facility.
• Pre-war records reference a Class A Starport destroyed in the nuclear war.
• The destroyed Class A facility was located over 1,000 km away from the current site.
• Landing occurred on the western tarmac of the operational Ad Hoc Starport.

Assessment: Dominicus deliberately selected the functioning post-war facility.

---

2 ▪ Cutter Visibility

• From Day 4 through Day 168, Cutter remains visible.
• Confirmed via Visual Spectrum, SAR, and Thermal signatures.
• No concealment measures observed.

---

3 ▪ Lifeform Activity Around the Cutter

Day 4–Present

• One lifeform remains at the Cutter through Day 168.

Beginning Day 15

• Three Alejia approach from buildings northeast of the tarmac each morning.
• They appear to carry items to the Cutter.
• They depart empty-handed.
• Pattern repeats in the evening.
• Routine continues uninterrupted through Day 168.

Beginning Day 21

• Human sophonts approach the Cutter.
• Movement originates from the Free Trader staging area.
• Visits are irregular and unscheduled.
• Duration varies.
• No aggressive posture observed.

Critical Observation

• No movement from the 2000-ton vessel sector approaches the Cutter.
• Large human deployment does not interact with the Cutter.

Assessment:
Three distinct engagement channels exist:

• Daily Alejia approach
• Irregular Free Trader human visits
• Complete non-engagement from 2000-ton deployment sector

The Cutter and remaining Scout appear outside the authority of the larger human force.

---

4 ▪ Free Trader Traffic Pattern

Day 18

• 200-ton class Free Trader departs orbit.
• Satellite orientation focused planet-side.

Day 48

• 200-ton Free Trader lands at same pad.
• Alejia unload cargo.
• Human crew consistent with 200-ton vessel complement.
• Cargo containers estimated 1–5 tons.

Ongoing Pattern

• One or two Free Traders depart approximately every 30 days.
• Return within 21–30 days.
• Offload cargo containers.
• Gradually load outbound cargo.
• No visible refueling operations.

Assessment: Established commercial logistics cycle.

---

5 ▪ Arrival of 2000-Ton Vessel (Escalation)

Day 51

• Increased human activity near existing 2000-ton vessel.
• Vessel lifts off.
• Next day, different 2000-ton vessel lands in same location.

Post-Landing Observations

• Small group of human sophonts disembark.
• Separate group of human sophonts emerge from ground facilities to meet them.
• Indicates personnel already stationed on-site.
• Large cargo-handling equipment unloaded.
• Large containers moved to aircraft maintenance structures.
• Approx. 120 personnel disembark.
• Personnel remove gear in organized formation.

Assessment:
Resembles rotational unit deployment, organized troop offload, and secured logistics establishment.
Area likely hosts organized and potentially armed human unit.

---

6 ▪ Perimeter Security Established

Day 55 Onward

• Human sophonts patrol tarmac and maintenance structures (western sector).
• Alejia movement from northeast buildings meets patrol routes.
• No visible confrontation.

Assessment: Coordinated perimeter activity.

---

7 ▪ Joint Patrol Phase

Day 62

• Alejia movement toward 2000-ton vessel area.
• Tent appears near perimeter within one hour.
• Both Alejia and human sophonts visible.

Day 63–100

• Mixed patrols: human + Alejia.

Assessment: Joint perimeter integration.

---

8 ▪ UAV Activity

Day 93

• UAVs detected via SAR and visual imagery.
• Operating near 2000-ton vessel.
• Activity increases steadily.

---

9 ▪ Security Consolidation

Day 101–103

• UAV flights increase significantly.
• Joint patrol ceases.
• Human-only patrol from Day 103 onward.

Assessment: Human security control consolidated.

---

10 ▪ Gate Fort & Berm Activity

Day 88

• Six grav vehicles move toward western berm gate.
• Vehicles stop at or inside gate structure.
• No movement observed beyond berm perimeter.
• No confirmed exit outside Ad Hoc Starport.

Gate Fort Imagery

• Gabion-style defensive structures.
• Elevated positions.
• Alejia estimated 2–3 meters tall.
• Capacity estimate: 20–80 per structure.
• Exact numbers indeterminate.

Assessment: Perimeter intact and controlled.
Grav vehicles reposition internally, not outward.

---

Current Operational Picture – Day 168

• Cutter intact.
• One Scout alive at Cutter.
• Daily Alejia supply approach.
• Irregular human visits from Free Trader sector.
• No interaction from 2000-ton deployment with Cutter.
• Sustained Free Trader logistics cycle.
• 2000-ton vessel deployment active.
• 120+ personnel present.
• Heavy cargo equipment installed.
• Perimeter under human-only patrol.
• UAV surveillance active.
• Berm gates fortified.
• No movement beyond berm.

---

Bohdie’s Primary Strategic Conclusion

• Phase 1 – Humanitarian tolerance (Days 4–20)
• Phase 2 – Commercial establishment (Days 18–48)
• Phase 3 – Major deployment (Day 51)
• Phase 4 – Joint security integration (Days 62–100)
• Phase 5 – Human security consolidation (Day 103+)

The Ad Hoc Starport is transitioning into:

A human-secured logistics and operational hub contained within its berm perimeter.

The Cutter and remaining Scout are compartmentalized:

• Supported by Alejia
• Visited irregularly by Free Trader humans
• Ignored by main human deployment
• Outside perimeter authority structure

That separation appears deliberate.

Bohdie reviews all the information twice. He goes back and reviews the UAV flights and pins them with streamers on to show the entire path of each flight. He watches for changes in the UAV flights and checks for the furthest out paths. He checks the distance out past the cutter. Once he determines the distance, he confers with Chaala. "We should go down and land outside of this perimeter (he indicates the streamer of the furthest flight of the UAV) far enough that our ship isn’t revealed by the unmanned aircraft’s sensors. Then, it is my opinion we should observe this individual (he points out the human life form at the cutter) for enough long enough to identify what member of the crew it is and his or her disposition."

Chaala enters her command access and searches for any logs and records that have been sealed behind command codes. Particularly anything flagged for Pautho.

"Yes. Precisely this."

"I think we it likely that Scout Apprentice Gruber is with the Cutter. It seems that they have good relations with the local Alejia and whoever is operating the Free Traders. I don' t know what's being used to pay for the regular resupply but it's consistent. I'm thinking we punch a tight beam to the Cutter and see if we can get a SitRep from Gruber and, if they think it won't disrupt things, have them come up and get us. Avoids us taking Voyager down and leaves us with a rescue option if things go wrong."

Chaala pauses.

"Thoughts?"

"Its certainly an option. It does remove the element of surprise and the ability to observe more closely without immediate discovery. And if, for some reason, the human lifeform at the cutter is not one of the crew but a different human? We may well give away our position to a complete stranger."

Edrin Looks at Chaala and say "with the moon's rotation, and orbit around Marinagua added with Marinagua planet's rotation who make the just sending a beam message to the cutter pretty difficult, if not impossible. Why not just fly the Voyager or Harrier into a geo-sync orbit holding above the starport and then try to send the tight beam. By then we should have the jamming pattern and frequencies down to send a massage through the jamming. "

"I had considered that, and with Harrier's stealth capabilities and the, presumably, limited monitoring capacity on the planet, we should be able to get away with it. Not moving would have let us try faster, but if it won't work, we can take Harrier. If she is spotted, as I said, anyone doing the math knows there's a ship around anyway and I'd rather they don't see Voyager as long as possible."

She addresses Bohdie, "As for the possibility that it's not a Scout at the cutter, better that we know that sooner rather than later. We can wait until we've done a little more surveilance, but we're on a clock here. I want to get Halsson out of here ASAP so we'll lose backup once they are refuelled unless we find a reason to keep them here. We also don't know if Dominicus and her crew are in danger so any delay could put their risk at a growing rate. I know they've already been here for a while and the odds they're on knife's edge are small, but we have one mission parameter left and I don't want to risk it by being overcautious."

edit: Formatting

Bohdie doesn’t let his frustration show.

"We haven’t detected any scans to or from space, so if they are monitoring close orbit, it has to be all passive. If we cannot get enough resolution at the right angle to positively identify the human at the cutter, the next most logical step would be to put someone on the ground to move into a position to allow optics to magnify the individual’s features well enough to identify them. Maybe we don’t have to actually put the Azure Voyager on the ground. Perhaps we can just drop into the atmosphere and drop a team of two close enough to hike in for identification."

Bohdie checks the inventories of both ships for Grav Belts, parachutes, etc. Anything that could put a small team on the ground without the ship landing.

Wilber nod his head
"Wilber nod his head
"I agree with Bohdie, I would like to go down too and check this place, for even if there is still a member of the crew in the shuttle, we do not know what happened to the rest of the team."

On the bridge of the Azure Voyager, Edrin looks at Chaala. "Boss, so what is the plan?"

---

Currently:
Wilber, Bohdie, Virel, and Amara are on the ISS Harrier, she is powering up and will be ready in less than 30 minutes.

Chaala, JEEM, Ruiha, Edrin, Dr. Shone, and Captain Halsson (in the Autodoc) are on the Azure Voyager, all systems operating, short on fuel for jumping, but enough fuel for 20 days of operations.

Chaala lays out her reasoning calmly. She does not yet speak with finality. There is openness for discussion.

"I'm not comfortable with sending two people into an unknown situation without good options for retrieval. If Jeem is right, we've got a friendly at the Cutter, but not the one I, or doctrine, would have left at the Cutter. So it makes sense to make contact with the Cutter and to prepare to retrieve it via Remote Operations if need be. We wait until a quiet time when there are no visitors, so we maintain the option of stealth and surprise if the report we receive warrants it," she looks to Bodhie on her screen, "And it may well."

"We do this early because we, I, have an important decision to make after that. Either we retrieve the cutter or we insert on Voyager, sneaky or not depends on information we do not yet have, but Voyager needs to refuel and maybe Niparoo has the capacity to do that at the ad hoc downport, but it doesn't look likely and certainly no one else does. So she has to refuel before any significant operations, just in case we missed something important and she has to run."

She takes a deep breath. "I see two options for wilderness refueling. Quiet insertion on the planet and gas giant. Planet is higher risk but gets us in the game faster for everything else. Gas Giant is safer but we're looking at days out and back. There's a small chance Halsson recovers when Voyager is far enough from the planet, but that's hope and not a factor for operational plans. I'm inclined to the planetary choice but I want perspectives. Unfortunately, I don't think we want to risk doing it close enough that we can insert for grave belt operations near the station. If we're doing that, I want Voyager fueled first."

"Timing matters. Once we make contact with the Cutter there's the possibility that the Scout there lets slip that we're here. If we recall the Cutter, the factions will know someone's here. Someone spots Voyager on the refueling run and, probably different, factions know we're here."

"All that said, here's my plan. As I said, I want perspectives. Harrier goes into stealth and positions to make contact with the Scout staying at the Cutter. Voyager then makes a night time quiet as possible landing at a secluded lake or sea where the satelites don't see any sign of Sophont activity for hundreds of kilometers, the more the better. Quick, efficient refuel, then, again using the shadow of the planet, repositions for support operations. Then we make contact with the Scout aboard and get a report. The branching from there depends very much on the content of that report, but landing Voyager, retrieving the Cutter and insertion of personnel are all in the table."

With some nods, JEEM follows the words of Chalaa.

"Would there be the possibility to get the fuel for the Azure Voyager openly? Perhaps as a diversion from a landing team?"

Virel listens to the discussion without interrupting, though a faint line forms between his brows.

"At the moment," he says evenly, "we know one thing with certainty. There is a human at the Cutter. We believe they are one of ours. But belief is not confirmation."

A short pause.

"The absence of the others is the anomaly. This human could be at the Cutter by choice or necessity. If they are compromised, direct contact could expose this person or the rest of the crew to danger."


His tone remains steady.

"We cannot assume normality simply because the pattern appears routine."

A beat.

"I agree with Chaala. Harrier is the better instrument for first contact. Voyager remains our unknown variable. The less we reveal prematurely, the more options we retain."

Bohdie listens to Chaala’s discourse and JEEM’s and Virel’s replies. He nods when they talk about having a landing team. When Virel finishes speaking, he nods more fully.

"I agree with Virel’s assessment. We can determine that the human at the cutter has the general same characteristics as one of the crew members from the Harrier. But we cannot confirm this from orbit with the resources currently deployed.". Bohdie’s features remain stoically neutral as he speaks.

"Because of this, any direct contact risks alerting factions that may not be friendly to us or the Harrier crew. Right now, we are fairly certain nobody on the planet’ Surface knows we are here. Once we communicate with that individual (he points to the man on the screen), that equation changes. And it changes for more than just us." He lets that sink in for an extended beat.

"I am not suggesting any kind of direct action. Direct observation, on the other hand… careful, quiet, multi-day observation by 2 of us would certainly be useful. It would provide a method to verify our orbital observations, extend our knowledge of the operations and activities going on and provide an advanced, pathfinder-style interface for follow-on activity. Some of us have extensive experience operating behind the lines and observing situations long term.". Bohdie pauses a beat then looks over to JEEM for a moment before his eyes return to Chaala.

"Myself and JEEM are the most logical choices for the ground team. My suggestion is that we insert after Voyager enters atmosphere before heading to wilderness refueling. We can then begin our observations while the ship takes on and refines fuel, reducing the overall mission time. We can set up a hide, perform the reconnaissance, being a two man team, it allows us to have security while observing. Then, once we can confirm the identity of the individual at the cutter, a more informed decision can be made on how to proceed. (A beat) That is my professional assessment and suggestion. It is, ultimately, your call as the Acting Mission Commander and I will abide by your decision. You have my recommendations and my reasoning behind them, Commander."

Chaala shakes her head. "Too many risks and negatives to landing Voyager at the port. We don't even know if they have fuel available and I don't want Niparoo hooking up to her again. We also put our best hole card on the table prematurely."

"Whatever we decide, we'll have more time to observe before we make contact. I'm more comfortable with the risks that someone on the ground has been playing at being a stranded Scout for half a year than I am with the insertion options, but you've got until Voyager is refueled to gather information to contradict that. Follow anyone you can out from the downport, intercept any communication, but in the absence of solid contradictory evidence, it's the lower risk, higher reward option. If it's not a scout, we'll be able to assess that before we give them any useful information."

After he has made his comment, and been answered, he is again listening. Nodding to Bhodies grouping for the ground mission, he stays silent, but works already on two different equipment lists for it.

A short deployment, not longer than a week, and a more extended mission in case of longer travels of the Azure Voyager without them. His notes are projected to a side monitor, visible to others, but negligible.

Wilbur takes a moment before speaking, his tone steady but edged with quiet resolve.
"We could try running facial recognition on the feed. If we can judge beard length, then the sensor resolution is good enough to match against a short crew list. With so few candidates, the odds of a false match are low.

If we’re sending a two‑person team down, we’ll need a second grav‑belt from the Azure. And… with respect, I’m not new to this kind of work. I led the assault on Formol against the Zhodani. I know how to handle a covert insertion, and how to get people out if things go wrong.

I’m ready to deploy if the Captain assigns me."

"Let's prep Voyager for ocean refuelling, prioritizing stealth over speed and security while down. Edrin, Amara, that's you. Doc will stay with Voyager as well for now, to keep an eye on Halsson and the autodoc. Bohdie, my first thought was to put you on Voyager with Wilbur to prepare for the grav belt insertion option, but if you want to stay on Harrier to focus on satellite ops, I value your intelligence experience. JEEM, you're with Voyager for security. Ruiha, Virel and I will take Harrier, maximizing her stealth capabilities, and combine with the satellite capabilities and focus on Bohdie's concern about the individual on the cutter as well as, the best of the satellite's capabilites, matintaining overwatch on Voyager. We won't be able to intervene, but we can give you warning with as much as possible. Any remaining bandwidth we have will focus on radio intercept and preparing to punch through to the cutter."

Wilbur studied the map for a long moment before speaking.
"Captain, to keep this operation covert, we’ll need to descend under moon cover and set down beyond the starport’s horizon. If we don’t, the Niparoo vessel may catch our signature, even on passive sensors. Drop‑off will have to be in that zone as well.

For facial recognition, we’d need to divert a satellite and burn enough fuel to hold it in a quasi‑geostationary position while it runs the scan.

One question, Captain: if the scan confirms the target is a crew member from the ISS Harrier, How will we contact him?"

Voyager is refueling, noting else, yet. Inserting at night far from any signs of Sophont activity, prioritizing stealth and security, not rushing. Your desciption is appropriate.

Wilbur and Bohdie, who have volunteered and indicated they are familiar with the general type of equipment are being given the option of flight time in the "safer" area where the refueling is taking place to check out on the specific equipment and practice coordinated flight for maximum stealth. They're not flying to the starport from there (If I recall, that's beyond the range of a full charge on the grav belts and would take a long time) and voyager is not flying closer to the starport at this time.

During the time that they are refueling, Harrier will be in Stealth mode and will attempt to get clearer confirmation that the man at the cutter is one of the two crewmembers current logic indicates most likely and to rule out that there is some kind of long operation to trap Harrier. Radio intercepts and mapping the jamming at the port to allow a tight beam contact with the cutter if determined that there is no clear evidence that the person at the cutter is not a Scout. Harrier will also be monitoring the existing satellites to make sure no one has spotted Voyager and is moving towards her.

After refueling is complete, Voyager will return to orbit (or the moon if we can't mate up for personel transfer) and we'll either recall the Cutter if that is determined to be viable or make alternate plan, probably involving covert insertion of the Grav Belt team, depending on what we learn from contacting the cutter.

The intent is that, while we're splitting the party, we're not planning on having any contact with other sophonts during the time we're split.

Virel inclines his head slightly. "The plan is sound."

His eyes remain on the surface feeds for a moment longer before he continues. "However… we should consider one additional variable."

He gestures lightly toward the Cutter. "That individual has been in sustained contact with visitors for nearly half a year. Even if he is one of ours, he is no longer operating in a controlled environment."

A brief pause. "We should assume that any communication we initiate may be overheard, observed, or interpreted by others nearby, even if unintentionally."

His tone remains calm. "When the time comes, we need to speak as if we are not alone."

"That is indeed the concern. It seems unlikely that he has gone native, but he certainly appears to have friendly interactions with the other non-Niparoo humans and might not even have noticed if he's getting careless with information. That's a big part of why we are waiting until we have everything else in place before making contact."

Chaala looks at the Captain's tablet, "The other, as Bohdie has pointed out, is that we need time to work out the details of how to do it. I am confident that with two ships and six satellites of higher tech than the jamming that we can punch a message through. The Cutter's ability to respond with much may be limited. Looking at the qualifications I've got here, it looks like Doc actually has the best certifications to figure out the frequencies and timings of messages from which source to get the message through."

With a small sigh, she addresses Dr. Shone directly, "My instinct is still to protect Halsson but the autodoc ought to keep her stable and I think if you're going to lead the radio operation, I need you on Harrier. You've got the qualifications to run the autodoc remotely if there's a problem."

Dr. Shone was listening to all the intense planning, and when his name was mentioned, he got startled. After assuming composure, he responded, "Captain Chaala, I do have understanding and expertise on remote operation and sensor analysis. If you think I can contribute to the radio operation, then I will do it. So, we will be doing this from the Harrier? As for the autodoc, the way things are progressing, a counteractive antimicrobial nanomed will be designed, and barring any deviation from the process, it will cure Halsson."

Bohdie turns to Chaala and says, "Commander, while I have a good eye for the resultant feeds, I don’t have any skill or training in the remote ops to get the satellites in the correct position. I would be better positioned on the Voyager. I can access the feeds from there and share my opinion if necessary. In the meantime, working with the Grav belts and providing ground security would be the best use of my abilities."



Edit: minor punctuation

Chaala nods, "That's the plan."