Early Warning
Posted on 08 Feb 2026 @ 2:37am by Captain Sabrina Corbin
941 words; about a 5 minute read
Mission:
Silent Inheritance
Location: In Orbit of Lathira IV
Timeline: The day after Corbin's last log
OOC: I didn't really make this a JL, but I wanted you to review this and if you wanted to to add to it as a joint log if wanted, but if not at least get your nod to post this.
The Arawyn should have departed Lathira IV hours ago.
Captain Sabrina Corbin stood at the center rail of the bridge, eyes fixed on the planet suspended across the viewscreen. Shore leave had concluded without incident. Crew recall had been orderly. Department readiness reports were already green across the board. By any reasonable standard, they should have been underway.
Instead, they lingered.
The delay had nothing to do with the surface and everything to do with the ship herself. The misstep with the tactical system that Commander Harlan had uncovered had teams climbing through every crawlspace on the ship. Once they were satisfied with the status of the ship. Simulations were insufficient. Live fire testing was required, which meant finding a region of space far enough removed from traffic lanes, colonies, and political sensitivities to fire without consequence.
It meant time.
For once, the Arawyn had it. There were no immediate taskings from Fleet, no developing crises pulling them elsewhere. The luxury of that breathing room sat uneasily with Corbin.
What concerned her was not simply the fault, but its provenance. Skipped steps during manufacturing. Verification protocols assumed rather than executed. Logs that were complete on paper, yet left too few questions unanswered. She had Operations working through the records line by line, tracing the system back through fabrication and installation. Epsilon Command had been notified. Starfleet Systems Oversight as well. Not with accusations. With flags.
Patterns like that rarely remained contained.
The bridge maintained a quiet, professional rhythm as the ship remained in holding status. Stations were manned. Displays updated steadily. Corbin remained still, posture relaxed, her attention split between the planet below and the unresolved thread running through her ship.
The comm panel chimed.
“Captain,” the communications officer said. “Incoming transmission from the surface. Solara Research Institute.”
Corbin turned slightly. “On screen.”
The viewscreen shifted, resolving into a man seated in a compact office lined with diagnostic displays and stacked data slates. He appeared human, middle-aged, his greying hair pulled back neatly. His posture was composed, but the tension beneath it was unmistakable.
“This is Dr Adrian Revis, Solara Research Institute,” he said. “Captain Corbin, thank you for taking the call.”
“Go ahead, Doctor,” Corbin said.
Revis nodded once. “I will be direct. We are tracking a pediatric outbreak across multiple clinics in Kestrel Reach. The pathogen presents as Novaryn-C.”
A subtle shift rippled through the bridge.
Corbin did not interrupt. “That strain is considered functionally eradicated.”
“Yes,” Revis said. “It was. That is the problem.”
He adjusted a control, bringing diagnostic imagery up beside his face. “All affected patients are fully vaccinated according to Federation medical protocols. Their immune systems recognize the virus. Antibody memory is present. The response, however, is insufficient. Symptoms persist. In some cases, they are progressing.”
Corbin’s gaze sharpened. “In what way.”
“Neurological involvement,” Revis replied. “Early tremors in the extremities. Lethargy. Loss of appetite. We remain in the early window, but historical data on untreated progression is not encouraging.”
Corbin held his gaze through the screen for a moment. “Stand by, Doctor.”
She turned toward the pit. “Patch in Doctor Amberlyn.”
“Aye, Captain.”
Moments later, a second window opened. Lieutenant Commander Riah Amberlyn appeared seated in her office aboard the Arawyn, a PADD already in hand. Her attention was immediate and focused.
“Captain.”
“Doctor,” Corbin said. “You are now on channel with Dr Adrian Revis of the Solara Research Institute. He is outlining a developing medical concern on the surface.”
Amberlyn’s attention shifted fully to the viewscreen. “Dr Revis.”
“Commander,” Revis acknowledged. “I am aware your ship is concluding shore leave. I would not intrude unless the situation warranted it.”
“Please continue,” Amberlyn said.
Revis expanded the data. “We have confirmed multiple pediatric cases across three clinics. Standard antiviral treatment has stabilized some patients, but improvement is minimal. The pattern is consistent. Children under ten are symptomatic. Older children and adults are not, or not yet.”
Amberlyn leaned forward slightly. “Selective immune suppression.”
“That is our assessment,” Revis confirmed. “Environmental in origin, if I had to speculate. Not genetic. Not procedural. We have ruled out vaccine failure as a matter of formulation or administration.”
Corbin allowed the exchange to unfold without interruption. When Revis paused, she spoke.
“What are you requesting of this ship, Doctor?”
Revis met her gaze. “Access to Starfleet medical resources. Consultation. Independent analysis. If possible, support in determining whether this is localized or indicative of a broader systemic exposure. Solara is capable, but our reach is limited.”
A brief silence followed.
Corbin nodded once. “You will have our cooperation. Doctor Amberlyn will coordinate directly with your teams. I want all relevant data transferred to our medical department under joint review.”
Revis exhaled, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Thank you, Captain.”
“Doctor,” Corbin said calmly, “if this escalates beyond a clinical concern, my responsibilities expand. You will keep us informed.”
“You will have full transparency,” Revis replied. “You have my word.”
Corbin inclined her head. “Begin the transfer. Arawyn out.”
The viewscreen returned to the image of Lathira IV, tranquil and unchanged.
Corbin remained at the rail a moment longer, eyes on the planet.
“Doctor,” she said, “you have the lead. Keep me apprised.”
“Yes, Captain.”
As the channel closed, the bridge settled once more into its steady rhythm. Below them, a problem was unfolding that should not exist.
That alone was reason enough to stay.
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