The steady rhythm of Tyler’s boots echoed lightly as he stepped into Sickbay, his uniform worn crisp and proper. Outwardly, he carried himself with the same easy confidence he always projected — shoulders squared, chin lifted just slightly — but his eyes betrayed a flicker of unease.

Physically, he knew he was in top shape. Hours in the gym, training, sparring… he kept his body sharp, and he was proud of that. But there was always the other side of it — the shadow of the virus that still lingered in his brain. It wasn’t something anyone could see on the surface, but it was always there, waiting.

A nurse walked by and Tyler politely stopped them. “I’m Tyler Wells, here for my boarding physical.”

-Tyler Michael Wells, Science