Posted by Lieutenant Commander Edelu (CMO) in Main Sim: Back on the Genesis

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Magnús Pétursson (First Officer) in Main Sim: Back on the Genesis

Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Otr’Iq Mirai (Tactical) in Main Sim: Back on the Genesis
Posted by… suppressed (4) by the Post Ghost! 👻
While all the officers were dirt side on the planet, only one officer was left on the ship. Otr’lq Mirai was the proverbial odd man out. He was a recent transfer and since he was lacking one of his check in’s to be officially on duty, Calvin had used this to keep him on the ship. Having every officer off the ship didn’t sit well with him so Calvin had used the rules and regulations this time to his favor and left the conn to the tactical officer.

This was not what mirai had been expecting.

He had thought this transfer was to be a quiet research assignment, a position for him to keep his nose clean while the Husqvarna incident cooled down. Now, before he was even fully acclimated and through onboarding, he was manning the con while the senior officers were planetside. He took the position, expecting them back before long, then 24 hours passed and not a word. Mirai was getting anxious.

The bridge doors parted with their signature hiss, and Edelu stepped through with measured purpose.

His uniform was crisp, but there was an undercurrent of tension in his movements—shoulders tighter than usual, brow furrowed in quiet focus. He scanned the room, noting the absence of the senior staff. Only junior officers manned the stations, their eyes bouncing from monitors to one another like static electricity searching for a ground.

Mirai turned his head to see what looked like a Vulcan step through the doors. He took a moment to recognize the Mintaken medical officer from his personnel file.

“Comms silence for nearly twenty-four hours.” The words had been passed along in Sickbay, but hearing them hadn’t quite done justice to the weight of what that meant. He hadn’t intended to come to the bridge—he wasn’t command staff—but when the usual chatter from planetside never resumed, and his requests for updates had been met with quiet shrugs, he’d made his way here without waiting for an invitation.

Mirai stood from the center chair and gave a slight bow of his head. “Sir,” He said, “No news of the landing party yet. We should start considering our options-“

He stepped closer to the conn, his dark eyes catching the light from the main display.

The comms officer spoke up, breaking the silence.

“Sir,” the comms officer stated out loud to the bridge. “I am finally getting a signal but it is not from the Captain or the away team. It is from someone named Lt Zach Dean. I ran his name through the database and there was a Lt. Dean stationed on Beltran with the last ship that visited here but there is no record he left the planet with that ship or reference to him being on planet in any of the debriefings. Should I put it through?” It had been close to 24 hours since there had been any communication from the away team.

GM Kate

Mirai’s eyes widened, thinking through the possibilities of the message.

Edelu’s jaw tensed slightly at the name. He stepped forward—his voice calm but carrying the weight of a senior officer unused to standing still when people were in danger.

“Put it through,” he said. “And route audio to internal backup recorders. If this is the only thread we’ve got—” he paused, his voice softening, “—we follow it.”

He took a step toward the center of the bridge, eyes fixed on the viewer, pulse quickening beneath the surface. He didn’t like mysteries. Especially not when they involved missing people.

And especially not when those people were his crew.

-Lt. Cmdr. Edelu
Chief Medical Officer

=/\=I repeat this is Lt. Zach Dean. We are under attack and need an immediate beam out. Coordinates 5928.35 by 8123.9. We need a team sent to the Imperial Palace. The Captain is under attack.=/\= The words were a jumbled broken mess due to the atmospheric storms surrounding the planet but they were clear enough to be understood.

“Sir,” the bridge officer stated to Edelu, “Shuttles are not able to get through the turbulence but we may be able to beam you and Mirai into the palace. It could be dangerous.”

GM Kate

Edelu’s jaw tightened further at the sound of Lieutenant Dean’s fractured transmission. The static, the desperation—it all scraped at nerves he’d spent years burying beneath a physician’s calm.

His hands flexed once at his sides before he straightened and turned toward the Ops station.

“Belay that beam-down for now,” he said, voice firm. “Let’s not jump into a fire when we might be able to pull our people out of it.”

He crossed to the console with practiced urgency, his gaze fixed on the readout.

“Ops—can we get a transporter lock on the away team? Use those coordinates Dean gave us. I want every trick in the book: biofilters, pattern enhancement, signal triangulation. I don’t care if you have to bounce it off the moon.”

Then, with a glance toward the Science station: “And get me a read on their vitals. I need to know who’s still breathing before we start throwing people into that storm.”

His tone held no panic—but every syllable was laced with intent. Edelu didn’t rush blindly into chaos. He worked to pull people out of it.

“If there’s any chance we can beam them out safely,” he said, more quietly now, “that’s our first play. We go down only if we have no other choice.”

-Lt. Cmdr. Edelu
Chief Medical Officer

Mirai looked from the bridge officer to the doctor, “A very reserved plan sir,” Mirai said, “And one we should implement as soon as possible, if we do not intend to beam down ourselves.” Mirai personally would have preferred jumping into the fray, but he knew Edelu’s plan was the safer course of action. “Let us know as soon as you have a lock on all Star Fleet personnel,” Mirai said to the bridge officer, then to comms, he said, “Open a channel to Dean.” =/\=Lt. Dean, This is Lt. Mirai on the USS Genesis. We are targeting you and our crew at the coordinates you gave and will be beaming you aboard. Hold for Transporter lock!=/\=

Lt. JG Mirai
Tactical

The response was immediate =^=XO Here, Belay that for now. Keep a lock on and get a lock on the Beltrans with us. Diplomatic protocols Mr. Mirai. If you can reach out to any other Starfleet forces dirtside. We are currently not under direct threat=^=

XO

Edelu’s eyes narrowed subtly as the XO’s voice came through—measured, composed, and curiously calm given the earlier distress call.

“Not under direct threat?” The phrase stuck in his mind like a splinter.

He stepped back from the Ops console, folding his arms slowly, brows knitting. Something about the tone didn’t sit right. It wasn’t that he doubted the XO’s authority—or judgment—but the inconsistency between the fractured plea from Lt. Dean and the current dismissal of danger was difficult to reconcile.

His voice, when he spoke again, was calm, but there was a thoughtful weight behind it.

“Unusual, don’t you think?” he said, his gaze flicking toward Mirai. “A few moments ago we had screaming static and a call for immediate evacuation. Now it’s… ‘not under direct threat.’”

Mirai shared the look with Edulu. “Unusual to say the least, sir.”

He didn’t accuse, just observed. But the undercurrent of unease was there.

He turned back toward the viewscreen, jaw tightening again, though not as sharply this time. This was diplomacy now, not just medicine. And that changed the terrain.

Still… he didn’t like sitting idle. Not when something felt off.

Edelu drew a breath, then turned again toward Mirai, his tone quiet but clear.

“If this calm holds, I say we wait. But if not…”

A pause, then a shift.

“Perhaps we should prepare to go down ourselves. Medical, tactical—one of each. Enough to lend aid, but not escalate.”

He met Mirai’s eyes directly.

“But if we make that call, I’d rather it be mutual. I’d value your read on the situation, Lieutenant. Would you go?”

He asked it simply, without pressure, a subtle thread of trust woven through the words.

The choice wasn’t his alone.

-Lt. Cmdr. Edelu
Chief Medical Officer

“That may be wise.” Mirai said, feeling himself drawn to the action below, but not wanting to leave the ship so understaffed. “Ensign! He said to the communications officer,
“Respond to Lt. Commander Pétursson.” =/\=Sir, this is Mirai responding again, We received an urgent distress call from a Lt. Dean requesting assistance. Please confirm if you have made contact with this officer and what your current situation entails. Lt. Cmdr Edelu and myself are ready to beam down to provide assistance if necessary.=/\= Mirai turned to Edelu and shrugged, “Let’s give them some time to respond. I’m inclined to lean towards the Lt. Cmdr’s orders over an unknown Lieutenant, but we should be ready with our response either way.” He turned again to the communications officer, “Patch through communications to Transporter room one. If either Lt. Cmdr Pétursson or Lt. Dean hail us again, put them through there. Lt. Cmdr,” he said to Edelu, “will you join me in the transporter room for potential beam down?”

Lt. JG Mirai
Tactical