Echoes of Blood Pt 7

Posted on 17 Jan 2026 @ 2:31am by Lieutenant Aev Flammia

1,963 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Echoes of Blood
Location: Corvanis IV
Timeline: 1 Week Previous

[Corvanis IV]

He drifted in a deep, dreamless darkness, one wrapped in a familiar, steady warmth. When Aev finally opened his eyes, he found himself in a small, dim room. A dirt-streaked window set into the far wall let in a single shaft of amber light, casting a dim cross-shaped pattern across the stone.

He tried to sit up, but a wave of nausea rolled through him and forced him back. At the foot of the bed, a familiar figure caught his attention.

Ignis sat there, watching him.

“Igni-” Aev started, then stopped as his throat burned with dryness. Beside the bed, on a makeshift table cobbled together from salvaged ship parts, sat a large glass of water. He reached for it, propping himself up just enough to drink, swallowing greedily until the ache in his throat finally eased. Lowering the glass, Aev looked back at Ignis. “How long have I been out?”

Ignis’s expression softened almost imperceptibly. “Two and a half days,” he said. “Your neural activity stabilized within the first few hours, but Skath insisted you not be disturbed.” He glanced toward the doorway, then lifted his hand slightly. A soft shimmer of light rippled near his wrist as he triggered a short-range comm pulse. “Sam,” Ignis said calmly, his voice carrying just enough warmth to cut through the clinical tone he’d adopted. “He’s awake.”

A pause, then the faintest hint of relief crossed his features. His attention returned fully to Aev. “You experienced extreme cognitive and emotional overload. Given the circumstances, your recovery time is within acceptable parameters.” He tilted his head. “There is one additional factor you should be aware of,” he said carefully. “During the mind-link, your emotional state did not remain contained. You were… projecting. Not intentionally. But the intensity of what you experienced radiated outward. Everyone in proximity was affected.”

His gaze flicked briefly toward the door. “Sam most noticeably. She experienced a sympathetic emotional response consistent with external empathic bleed-through, grief, loss, distress that was not her own.” Ignis looked back at Aev, expression thoughtful rather than alarmed. “It appears that under some conditions, you are capable of projecting emotional states onto others. That development warrants further consideration.” Another pause. “And caution,” he added gently.

“Projecting? What do you mean?” Aev asked.

Ignis opened his mouth to answer but the door slid open with sharp force and interrupted him.

Sam stormed in, eyes already locked on Aev. Any attempt at composure vanished the moment she saw him sitting upright. “Oh, don’t you dare sit up like that,” she snapped, crossing the room in three quick strides. “You’ve been unconscious for two and a half days after a Reman mind-dive and you think now’s the time to play catch-up?” She planted a hand on his shoulder, firm but unmistakably relieved. “Do you have any idea what you did to us?”

Only then did she seem to realize she’d interrupted Ignis. She shot him a quick look. “You, pause. Medical trumps analysis right now.” Her attention snapped back to Aev. “You scared the hell out of me,” she said, voice tight but steady. “So before you start asking what we’ve been doing, you’re going to tell me how you’re feeling. Headache? Vertigo? Emotional whiplash? Sudden desire to adopt an entire underground civilization? Because if you say ‘fine,’ I’m calling you a liar and sedating you myself.”

Aev couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips at the sight of her. “I feel tired,” he admitted, “overwhelmed… and very confused.” The smile faded as Ignis’s words caught up with him. His brow furrowed. “Ignis said I was projecting my emotions onto everyone.” He hesitated, a flicker of memory surfacing. “I remember seeing you on the floor. Just for a moment, before everything went dark.” His gaze sharpened with concern. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Sam’s expression softened, though the tension never fully left her shoulders. “I’m okay,” she said quickly. “Shaken, but okay.” She pulled up a chair and sat facing him, “when you collapsed, it was like the room… tipped. Grief hit me out of nowhere…your grief. Not memories, not images, just this crushing sense of loss that didn’t belong to me.” She exhaled slowly. “I knew it wasn’t mine. That’s the only reason I didn’t panic.”

Her eyes met his, steady now. “Skath reacted fast. He pulled you out of the link and dampened whatever was spilling over. After that, it faded. Took a while, but it faded.” She paused for a moment and then added firmly, “You didn’t hurt anyone, but whatever’s locked up inside you? It’s stronger than any of us realized. Also, I did give you Lexorin,” she said. “High dose, steady-release. It helps stabilize neural activity and dampen empathic or emotional spillover. A standard precaution in cases of cognitive overload.”

Sam watched his face closely. “You should stay on it for now. At least until we understand what happened and why.” She rested her forearms on her knees. “This isn’t about suppressing you. It’s about giving your nervous system time to recalibrate. Whatever surfaced during that link… it pushed past limits you didn’t even know you had.” Her tone softened. “We’ll reevaluate once you’re fully stable. Until then, no heroic experimentation.” A faint, wry smile touched her mouth. “Doctor’s orders.”

“Who am I to argue with my doctor?” Aev said, managing a faint smile. But he would have been lying to himself if he said her words didn’t unsettle him. He had never thought of himself as empathic, not once. He couldn’t recall ever sensing emotions… except…

His eyes widened slightly.

The bridge of the Newton. The tension that had seemed to soak into him, the stress of the crew, the fear humming just beneath the surface. He’d assumed he was simply reacting to the moment, to the atmosphere of a ship under pressure. But now, with hindsight, it felt different. Too immediate. Too sharp.

Had he been feeling them?

“I don’t understand, Sam,” he said quietly. Then he let out a short, humorless breath. “I feel like I’m saying that a lot lately.” His expression darkened. “I’ve never had anything I’d call empathic ability. Starfleet screens for that, especially at the Academy. How does something like this just… appear?”

Sam nodded slowly. “I talked to Skath about that,” she said. “During the link, he sensed a block in your mind. It was fragile, unstable, and he broke through it without realizing what it was.” She grimaced faintly. “Afterward, he understood what he’d done. That block was likely suppressing your empathic ability. Not eliminating it, just keeping it dormant. He regrets not being more careful.”

Aev absorbed that in silence.

“He doesn’t know who put it there or why,” Sam continued. “But it explains a lot. Remans rely heavily on telepathic and empathic perception. When he couldn’t sense you at all, he thought you might be an imposter.” She shook her head. “Once he realized the block was artificial, or at least not natural, things started to make sense.” She met Aev’s gaze. “You’ve never had training. No guidance. And Reman empathic ability isn’t subtle, it’s raw, ancestral. Powerful. Without control, it spills.”

Sam paused and then added “it also explains why some of your other Reman traits are surfacing now,” she added gently. “Once one system shifts, others tend to follow.” Her expression softened. “And for what it’s worth, Skath will be relieved to know you’re awake.”

Yes,” Aev said, and then, with sudden clarity, realized he needed to see his grandfather. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and pulled the sheets back, only to freeze. He was completely naked. Aev stopped short, then glanced toward Sam just in time to see her quickly turn away. “I-” He cleared his throat, mortified. “Why am I naked?”

Sam let out a short laugh without turning back. “Oh, relax,” she said dryly. “After a while, one Vulcanoid anatomy lesson looks pretty much like the next. Stop being a prude and put some clothes on before you pass out again.” She chuckled a little, then added, softer but amused, “Trust me, this barely even cracks the top ten weird medical situations I’ve dealt with.”

Aev glanced around the room and spotted his clothes folded neatly on a small storage bench at the foot of the bed. He rose and began dressing quickly, but as he pulled his shirt over his head, something pushed through the pharmacological haze Sam had placed around him.

Fear.

It hit fast and hard, a sudden spike that stole his breath. Aev’s hands fumbled as he finished dressing, movements turning hurried and uneven. “Something’s wrong,” he said.

Sam looked up sharply. “What do you mean?”

“I just felt…” He swallowed. “Fear. Intense. Widespread. I can’t tell where it’s coming from, but it feels like the entire settlement.” His eyes met hers. “It’s the first thing I’ve felt since waking up. We need to find Skath.”

He hurried into the corridor, then slowed, realizing he didn’t quite know where they were. Sam took the lead without hesitation, guiding them through the winding passages toward the main meeting chamber.

It was empty.

Unease tightening in her expression, she pushed onward, leading them outside into the cold air of the growing night.

The settlement had gathered in the open streets. Remans stood shoulder to shoulder, all facing skyward. Sam spotted Skath among them and guided Aev forward.

The elder Reman was staring into the heavens.

Aev followed his gaze and froze.

A brilliant point of light was cutting across the darkening sky. Too fast for a satellite.

A ship.

A sudden flare of green light erupted from it. Far ahead, a pinprick of brightness flashed and then detonated into a blinding explosion that momentarily turned the burgeoning night into day.

Aev’s stomach dropped.

The station. The derelict loading platform they’d seen in orbit.

More emerald flashes followed. This time, a focused cone of green light lanced toward the horizon north of the settlement. A massive white-hot explosion bloomed in the distance.

His breath caught. “The runabout-”

Seconds later, the shockwave hit. The blast slammed into them, a concussive force that rattled teeth and thundered through his chest.

“Interference has ended,” Ignis announced, eyes darting between Aev and Sam. “It appears the jamming systems used by the Remans have been destroyed.”

Skath moved suddenly, gripping Aev and pulling him close. Fear poured off the elder in heavy waves. “It is as I feared,” Skath said. “They have come for you.”

Emerald light began to cascade around them.

Aev barely had time to register it before transporter beams flared to life in the growing darkness. One ignited barely fifty feet ahead, bathing the street in harsh green light. Four Romulan soldiers materialized, heavy armor, disruptor rifles raised. Between them stood a fifth figure, unarmored, calm.

A nearby Reman guard lifted his disruptor.

A bolt of green energy streaked in from the darkness.

The Reman didn’t even have time to react. His body erupted into a storm of emerald embers, disintegrating into ash that the wind carried back across the crowd.

Even in the dim light, he could see the smug curve of the Romulan’s mouth. The man stepped forward, eyes settling on Aev. “I’ve always loved the smell of Reman incense.”

= To be continued =

Lieutenant Aev Flammia
Chief of Security
USS Arawyn

&

Lieutenant Samantha Dawes (NPC)
Medical Officer & Surgeon
USS Charon

 

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