Posted by Captain Rende Asam (Commanding Officer) in Main-Sim:

Posted by Commander Thraz sh’Kellirathras (First Officer/Chief of Security) in Main-Sim:

Posted by Captain Rende Asam (Commanding Officer) in Main-Sim:
Posted by… suppressed (11) by the Post Ghost! 👻
Kreed looked at her in silence for several seconds, registering what his vision told him. Finally he nodded and then looked at Anders. “I accept the Captain in medical custody and will put a medical lock on her computer access. Our shift physician Dr. Sovak is not responding to comms and did not show up for his shift. I would like to request a security team check on him.” The large black eyes shifted to Asam. “Captain, this way please.” and gestured towards the back of sickbay. He let her stay at an arms length, but walked her back to a single biobed.

Thraz moved the instant the request was spoken, rising from the chair with a sharp scrape of boots on deck plating. His antennae snapped forward, then flared slightly outward alert, focused, and unmistakably keyed for action. “Understood,” he said, voice hard and immediate, the calm heat of a warrior who had just been given a clear task. There was no question, no hesitation.

He turned toward the door, already issuing orders into his comm as he moved.

=^= “Security detail, two teams. One to Sickbay perimeter, one to locate Dr. Sovak’s quarters. Move now.”=^= His gaze cut back briefly to Asam, and Kreed not to challenge, but to reassure . “I will account for the doctor,” he added, promise edged with steel. Then he was gone, long strides eating the corridor as the hunt began.

It was not long before he and two other security officers were standing at the Drs’ quarters. “Dr. Sovak’s” he called ringing the chime, his Antena were locked on the surroundings, shifting forward, searching.

Commander Thraz sh’Kellirathras,
Executive Officer, USS Sentinel

Dr. Sovak’s Quarters – Deck 7, Section C

The corridor here was quieter than it should have been.

Not abandoned—Starfleet ships never truly were—but muted, as if the ambient hum of life-support had been dampened by unseen hands. The lights overhead burned at standard luminosity, yet felt dimmer somehow, their reflections stretching oddly across the polished bulkheads.

The chime echoed once.
Then again.

No response.

A faint vibration rippled through the deck plating, subtle enough to be dismissed as normal ship activity. Except it wasn’t rhythmic. It didn’t match warp harmonics, plasma flow, or impulse bleed. It came… late, like an echo arriving after the sound that caused it.

Cpt. Asam, CO

Thraz tried again with not success. “Stack up” he said sending the two NE’s to the side of the door for saft, he followed. “Overide it” he said to NE sims. His antenna were detecting odd things in the air, thing he could feel but not really explain. With a flick he opened a coms channel. [O] “Security to Bridge, Dr Sovack is not answers his door, overriding stand by” [C] he said, he readied himself for what came next, something was very wrong her. “Be ready now”

Commander Thraz sh’Kellirathras,
Executive Officer, USS Sentinel

The panel chimed in acknowledgment as the override command was accepted. For a heartbeat, nothing happened—then the door slid open just enough to reveal darkness beyond, the lights inside Dr. Sovak’s quarters unlit. The air that spilled into the corridor was cool and sterile, carrying the faint, sharp scent of antiseptic…and something mineral beneath it, like overheated stone. Interior sensors flickered uncertainly, struggling to resolve depth and shape, as if the room resisted being fully seen all at once.

Inside, the quarters appeared orderly at first glance—too orderly. Furniture stood precisely aligned, personal effects untouched, as though no one had moved through the space in hours. Dr. Sovak was visible near the far bulkhead, standing perfectly still, his back to the door, hands clasped behind him in a posture of Vulcan meditation. His biosigns registered as present but muted, unnaturally flat. As the door finished opening, Thraz’s antennae prickled sharply—an instinctive warning—when the ambient vibration returned, stronger now, passing through the room like a delayed echo of a thought that did not belong to anyone there.

Cpt. Asam, CO

Thraz stopped just short of the threshold, one boot forward, weight held back as his antennae flared wide, then snapped inward again. The sensation rolled over him like a pressure change before a storm. He lifted a clenched fist, halting the team behind him without looking back. “Do not enter,” he said low and sharp, the words carrying more heat than volume. His eyes never left the figure at the far bulkhead. “The room is… unsettled.”

He shifted his stance slightly, angling his body to keep the doorway clear, antennae twitching as the vibration passed again, stronger this time. “Doctor Sovak,” he called out, voice firm, deliberately controlled. “This is Commander Thraz. Step away from the bulkhead and turn to face me. Slowly.” His jaw tightened, every instinct screaming caution. “Security, hold positions. Whatever this is,” he added without looking away, “it is not finished.”

Commander Thraz sh’Kellirathras,
Executive Officer, USS Sentinel

The figure at the bulkhead did not turn. For several long seconds there was no response at all—only the faint, delayed vibration crawling through the deck like a remembered aftershock. Then Dr. Sovak’s head inclined a fraction of a degree, just enough to acknowledge the sound of Thraz’s voice. When he spoke, it was calm, precise… and half a beat out of sync with the moment. “Commander,” he said evenly, “your presence is… premature. I am engaged in necessary cognitive restraint.”

As he finished the sentence, the lights inside the quarters dimmed another subtle degree, not failing but withdrawing. The vibration surged once more, stronger now, brushing Thraz’s antennae with an instinctive sense of pressure and wrongness—as if the room itself were listening. Dr. Sovak’s hands tightened briefly behind his back, knuckles whitening. “Please maintain your distance,” he added, still facing the wall. “Interruption at this stage would be… inadvisable.”

Cpt. Asam, CO

Thraz held his position, antennae still flared from the pressure in the room, but he did not press forward. His voice was direct, edged with Andorian heat but kept in check. “Doctor,” he said evenly, “I hear you.” He let a brief beat pass, then added, without accusation or assumption, “Tell me what you need.”

Commander Thraz sh’Kellirathras,
Executive Officer, USS Sentinel

Dr. Sovak exhaled slowly, the sound precise and measured, yet it arrived just a fraction too late—like the echo of a breath already taken. “Time,” he said at last. “Silence. And the absence of additional minds.” His fingers flexed once behind his back, subtle strain rippling through his shoulders. “There is a cognitive intrusion in progress. It is… not forceful. It is persuasive.”

The vibration swelled again, brushing the threshold without crossing it, as if respecting Thraz’s boundary. The Vulcan’s voice tightened by an almost-imperceptible degree. “I am maintaining a mental barrier through sustained focus. Interruption—verbal or physical—risks providing the intrusion with additional vectors.” A pause. Then, more quietly, “If my discipline falters, you must be prepared to act. But not yet.”

Cpt. Asam, CO

Thraz did not respond, he leaned in close to a member of the security team. “go down the hall and contact the bridge inform them what’s going on” he ordered and then took a knee outside the room, his weapon drawn on the doctor set to stun if he needed to respond.

The officer took to the hall and opened a channel. [o] security team to the bridge, Dr. Sovak, is in contact with a mind that is trying to take him or others over, he is ok for now, but said we may need to take action should he fail [c]

Commander Thraz sh’Kellirathras,
Executive Officer, USS Sentinel

[o] Commander, we have contradicting information. One from Engineering saying that we are in danger and need to stop and another psychically from the bridge offering friendship. We cannot tell if it is one minds or two. My sensors indicate a neural field reintegrating. What should we do?[c]

Ensign Chandel Sci

NE masterson blinked. [O] I’m not sure, the commander is unable to talk at the moment sir, Is there not someone on the bridge that can make that call. [C] Commander Thraz had his communicator on silent at the moment not wanting to distract the doctor.

Thraz was kneeling just outside the door but kept it open, he was waiting for a sign the the doctor had gained better control or lost it. The tention in the room is palatable.

Commander Thraz sh’Kellirathras,
Executive Officer, USS Sentinel

Dr. Sovak’s shoulders eased by a fraction as Thraz lowered himself, the Vulcan clearly registering the shift even without turning. The vibration ebbed, not gone, but held at bay—like a pressure wave meeting resistance. “Your restraint is… acknowledged,” Sovak said quietly. A thin sheen of sweat traced along the line of his neck, betraying the effort beneath his controlled exterior. His biosigns wavered, then steadied again, discipline reasserting itself with practiced precision.

For several heartbeats, nothing else happened. Then the air inside the quarters tightened, as if drawn inward toward the Vulcan’s mind. Sovak’s voice followed, lower now, carefully measured. “It is listening,” he said. “Learning boundaries.” The lights flickered once—brief, sharp—and stabilized. “Remain where you are, Commander. If it presses harder, you will know. And if I fall silent…” He did not finish the thought, but the implication hung in the doorway, heavy and unmistakable.

Cpt. Asam, CO

Thaz gave a small nod, though it was to know one. His antenna continued to twitch and feel the air. There was little for him to do at this point accept wait and see what happened next.

Commander Thraz sh’Kellirathras,
Executive Officer, USS Sentinel

Time stretched thin in the doorway. The vibration did not grow—but it began to pattern, returning in uneven intervals that made Thraz’s antennae ache with the effort of tracking it. Inside the room, Dr. Sovak’s breathing slowed further, his posture rigid with concentration. A faint tremor passed through his hands, quickly mastered. The air felt dense now, as if the quarters were holding a thought just shy of expression.

Then, without turning, Sovak spoke again—quieter, strained at the edges. “It is adjusting,” he said. “Not to me… to you.” The lights dimmed a final degree, stopping just short of emergency thresholds. Somewhere deep in the bulkhead, something answered with a low, delayed pulse—one that did not come from the ship at all.

Cpt. Asam, CO

His antenna twitched at the pulse. “What do you want” he whispered, “You are hurting my crew please stop” he said sincerely shifting his weight away from the bulkhead, he was not sure what was going on but he did not like it.

Commander Thraz sh’Kellirathras,
Executive Officer, USS Sentinel