Lieutenant JG Ryden Taurs Kel - And so it starts...

[Ryden Kel]

((Deck 1 – Main Bridge – USS Narendra))

Taylor: It looks like a regular nebula, as far as sensors can identify it.

McLaren: I know... but it clearly isn’t. ::Sol looked to Ryden.:: Any
thoughts, Mr. Kel?

Kel: I recommend advising the crew to minimize stimulant intake until
we know more. Caffeine, even chocolate, could amplify neurological
responses under the wrong conditions. Best to err on the side of
caution.

Sol nodded, and Ryden sensed her relief at something concrete. So far,
the bridge appeared calm. He silently hoped it stayed that way.

Voss: I think it’s humming. ::no, that wasn’t quite right:: I mean,
it… it’s oscillating. It’s acoustic but it’s deeper. Like a stone
skipping on the water.

Ryden’s brow furrowed. The description was odd, almost poetic. He
glanced at her, curious where she was going with it.

Voss: It’s another kind of wave! Dancing and buffeting and… ::no,
these were not encouraging expressions on their faces:: Not ionizing,
not electromagnetic, not alpha, or beta, or…

Taylor: Dancing and… buffeting?

McLaren: How do you mean?

Ryden felt Voss's eyes on him.

Voss: ~You feel it too, don’t you?~

The thought struck him like a bolt. Sharp. Unexpected. Her mind wasn’t
just speaking words—she was reaching into his own, threading through
his awareness. He froze.

Ryden had always known he could touch minds, could sense thoughts,
feelings, in other Betazoids. But he’d grown up on Trill, where the
symbiosis of mind and body was quieter, more measured, and where he
had rarely needed—or wanted—to push his telepathy outward. This
intrusion, accidental or not, left him momentarily unmoored.

Kel: ::blinking, caught off guard:: ~I… yes, I feel it.~

The pinging sensation from her mind echoed across the bridge. It was a
strange, chaotic sort of awareness, a rhythm that felt almost… alive.
He had to steady himself, anchor to his own senses, just to keep the
unexpected intrusion from overwhelming him.

The pulse from the nebula still reverberated faintly in Ryden’s mind,
like a residual echo after Voss’s unexpected telepathic brush. He
tried to focus, grounding himself in the hum of the bridge and the
rhythmic thrum of the ship beneath his boots.

Kel: I… yes, I feel it. It’s faint, but it’s there... like a vibration
pressing against thought more than sound.

Voss: ::with sudden determination:: I need to get to the lab. I can
hear it better in the lab.

Ryden blinked, momentarily taken aback. The look in her eyes wasn’t
just focused—it was fixated. He could sense her attention drawn
elsewhere, as though something beyond the hull was calling her name.

Taylor: ::barely a whisper:: You’re not here. You can’t be.

Ryden glanced around the bridge. Two officers, at least, were already
showing symptoms... Voss’s urgency, Taylor’s confusion. Ryden’s pulse
quickened. This was happening faster than he expected.

McLaren: Everyone breathe... what are you all seeing?

Kel: Commander, I’m picking up elevated stress markers across multiple
stations. Pupillary dilation, shallow breathing... early signs of
sensory dissonance. We need to assume hallucinations are manifesting
across the crew.

Voss: Response?

Taylor: I am... experiencing hallucinations as well. Something that cannot be.

McLaren didn’t ask what he saw. Her calm steadied the air just enough
to keep panic at bay.

McLaren: Other than what you’re seeing, how does everything else look?

Kel: Ship systems appear stable for now. Whatever’s affecting
perception isn’t interfering with life support or neural interface
readings yet. But if this continues, cognitive function could degrade
quickly.

Voss: Response?

Taylor: Everything else looks normal to me, but... I am not sure if I
can trust what I see.

Sol nodded gently, her tone steady.

McLaren: I understand, Ensign.

Ryden glanced down at his tricorder, already tuning it to bio-neural
frequencies. He could feel faint emotional static bleeding through the
air, the Betazoid part of him resonating like an untuned instrument.

Kel: Commander, I’m detecting subtle fluctuations in our brainwave
patterns... across everyone on the bridge. The nebula’s emissions
might be stimulating mirror neurons, triggering vivid emotional
projections.

Voss: Response?

McLaren: Ryden... can you scan us... see how this nebula could be
affecting us? Physically, I mean. Maybe Lyra can help you?

Kel: Aye, Commander. ::he nodded toward Voss:: Ensign, if you’re still
in control, I could use your sensor expertise. We’ll compare
physiological and harmonic data... see if there’s a frequency
correlation.

Voss: Response?

McLaren: Once we have some idea of how it’s affecting us... we can fight it.

Kel: Understood. But I’d advise we maintain minimal exposure.... if we
push closer before isolating the cause, the symptoms could intensify.

Voss: Response?

Sol moved behind Taylor, keeping her voice measured and calm.

McLaren: Breathe, Ensign. Whatever... or whoever you’re seeing... isn’t there.

Taylor: Response?

Sol nodded, fingers gliding across the display.

McLaren: Ensign... what is the status of... ::she glanced at the
screen:: our shields? I see them at full power.

Taylor: Response?

Ryden’s gaze shifted to the nebula beyond the viewscreen. The swirling
light pulsed again, faint but rhythmic, and he couldn’t shake the
feeling that it was responding to them... observing, even
communicating. The thought sent a faint shiver down his spine.

McLaren: Does anyone else think this has come on entirely too quickly?
Like something doesn’t want us here?

Kel: It’s possible, Commander. Whatever this field is, it may be
reactive... aware, in some form. I’d suggest we treat it as a living
system until we know otherwise.

Voss/Taylor: ? response

Ryden glanced at Voss and nodded. Without another word, they moved
together to a nearby station, side by side. The display panels
flickered slightly under the nebula’s influence, and he felt the
subtle pressure of the crew’s collective tension pressing through the
bridge.

Kel: Let’s cross-reference your sensor readings with the crew
biofeedback. If there’s a correlation, we may be able to identify the
frequency causing the hallucinations.

Voss: ?

Kel: Noted. ::He adjusts his tricorder:: Heart rates, pupil dilation,
minor respiratory shifts… all correlate with your spikes. The bridge
crew is registering these effects subtly, but consistently.

Voss: ?

Kel: No. It’s real... and manageable if we can identify the source.
Keep tracking the intensity and duration of the oscillations. I’ll
record the physiological readings in parallel.

Voss: ?

Ryden chose to reach out to Voss, telepathically. Even though he was
rusty, he knew that they could work more quickly without the delay of
speech.

Kel: ::after a pause:: ~ Look here. Overlaying your data with the
crew’s biofeedback… see this pattern? Every spike in oscillation lines
up with minor neural responses across multiple stations.~

Voss:?

Kel: ~Focus on the rhythm with me. Let’s see if we can anticipate the peaks.~

Voss: ?

Kel: ~Exactly. If we can isolate this frequency, we might be able to
shield the crew... or at least anticipate the worst of the effects
before they manifest.~

Ryden felt a faint, almost intrusive resonance of her attention
aligning with his. He had to ground himself... he wasn’t used to this.
Growing up on Trill meant his telepathy had always been tentative, a
tool for observation rather than direct communication. Still, it
allowed them to synchronize their focus, their attention sliding over
the data almost simultaneously.

McLaren/Taylor: ?


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Lieutenant JG Ryden Tarus Kel
Medical Officer
StarBase 118 Ops
O240109RK1