The sun had barely cleared the horizon when the call for medical assistance came in. Stellan jogged through the forested terrain after his beam-in. His medkit was slung over one shoulder, and his tricorder was already active, scanning as he went. His boots crunched over the mossy undergrowth, bathed in faint bioluminescence as the plants pulsed in a slow, rhythmic motion.

When he reached the grove, he found Jordan unconscious, lying near the roots of a twisted tree, his skin clammy and pale. His breathing was shallow, erratic. The others were around him, trying to keep the young cadet alive. They had pulled a few safety blankets from their camp to keep him warm. 

After getting a brief update from the other officers, they shared that they didn’t want to move him until their field medic had arrived to assess the situation. Stellan dropped to his knees and began scanning the cadet. “His vitals are slightly unstable. I’m reading abnormal neural activity, waveform irregularities consistent with a neurogenic field.”

Askew stood nearby, her arms crossed tightly against her chest as she hovered beside Stellan. “Can you stabilise him?”

Stellan nodded. “I can keep him steady, but he needs to be back on the Astra immediately. Whatever’s affecting him, it’s neurological and it’s not going away on its own.”

“Let’s get him beamed out,” Askew barked through her combadge. “Astra, lock onto Lieutenant Stellan’s signal and transport him and Cadet Duncan-Court to sickbay. Emergency priority.”

Moments later, Jordan vanished in a shimmer of blue light. The moment he did, Scott took a few steps back from the group, his jaw clenched tight, his hands trembling at his sides. “I just need some air,” Scott muttered hoarsely, then turned and began to walk away, deeper into the brush.

His breath came quicker. A thick heat pressed against him. His boots felt heavier with every step, as if the ground were resisting him. He pushed through the bushes and growth, heading almost back where he had come from after rushing through the foliage. 

Then he saw them. He had to stop and blink several times before wiping his face. His chin still felt tight from the pain after Alfie had suckerpunched him in the jaw mere moments ago. Nevertheless, he ignored it and looked forward again. He couldn’t believe his eyes. 

Jordan and Alfie stood by the stream, laughing softly. Alfie brushed a strand of Jordan’s hair behind his ear. Jordan placed kisses on his neck.

Scott froze. “No,” he whispered to himself. “This can not be real.” He knew this wasn’t right. He had just seen Jordan pass out and be beamed back to the Astra. 

Jordan looked up, smirking at him. “You’re jealous again, Scott.”

Alfie turned, his eyes sharp. “Thought you meant something? You were just a mistake.”

Scott stumbled backwards, confusion and panic setting in. “Stop. Stop, this isn’t real. You’re not real.”

Jordan took a step closer, voice low and taunting. “All those kisses? You thought they meant something? You were a distraction. Alfie’s the one I wanted.”

Alfie pushed past Jordan and punched Scott in the jaw. Then again. Then again.

Scott didn’t fight back. Blood pooled in his mouth, the pain dull and distant. His ears rang. And then, just before his vision blacked out, he saw them, Jordan and Alfie entwined in another passionate kiss, smirking and gloating at him for being back together. He knew they weren’t together, and then the darkness hit him. 

Beatrice had gone to chase after Scott and was about twenty meters away from the others when her legs buckled. A tight, shrill ringing began to whine in her ears. The trees swayed unnaturally, their limbs curling in grotesque, unnatural arcs. A warm breeze brushed her cheek, but it carried the waves of sinister whispers. They slithered into her mind like vines, tangling with her thoughts.

Beatrice turned, half-expecting someone to be there, but no one was. She went back on her trek, 

Then a voice pierced the silence. It was cool, crisp, and damning.

“You’re not Starfleet material.”

She spun back around again, and Beatrice’s eyes became wide and open at what she saw. 

A semicircle of her superior officers stood before her, like judges at a tribunal. Before her were Commodore McCallister, Captains Duncan, Reyas and Niro, along with Commanders Askew and Lee. Their uniforms were immaculate. Their faces were cold masks. All of them stood tall and strong. 

“You endangered your team,” Askew said sharply, her voice devoid of feeling.

“You failed this mission,” Reyas added, stepping forward with narrowed eyes.

Beatrice blinked, trying to breathe, to speak. “No… I didn’t… I tried.”

“You don’t belong here,” McCallister said with unwavering finality.

“You’re not good enough,” Lee added, each word like a dagger.

Duncan shook his head. “We expected more from you. You disappointed us all.”

“You’ll never wear that uniform again,” Niro sneered, arms crossed.

Beatrice took a trembling step back. “Please, I gave everything to this. I did everything I was supposed to.”

“Everything?” Reyas scoffed. “You endangered your crewmates. You couldn’t even protect Jordan.”

“I didn’t know he was in danger.”

“You should have,” Askew snapped. “You were supposed to look after one another.”

“You’ve failed the Academy, your officers, and yourself, cadet,” McCallister said, his voice ringing with disappointment.

The voices rose in tempo and volume, overlapping, drowning her in shame.

“Not good enough.”

“Failure.”

“Liability.”

“Starfleet doesn’t need cadets like you.”

“No!” Beatrice cried, hands flying to her ears. “That’s not true! Please, I just wanted to help!”

“You’ve let us down,” Duncan said, his eyes narrowing. “We believed in you.”

Beatrice’s heart shattered. These weren’t just her commanding officers; they were her mentors, her inspiration, her heroes. And now, they looked at her like she was nothing. Less than nothing.

As their shadows grew longer and the trees twisted further, their forms began to distort, hulking, cruel silhouettes reaching toward her. Her breath came in shallow gasps. Her knees gave way.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please stop.”

But the accusations didn’t stop. They became a hurricane of condemnation.

“You failed them.”

“You failed us.”

“You failed yourself.”

“No! No more, please!” She screamed, a raw and broken sound, as she collapsed into darkness.

At the edge of the wooded area, Parker had led Alfie away to a shaded spot beneath a broad-leaved tree. He sat on a fallen log, head bowed, fingers trembling as he toyed with the clasp of his tricorder.

“I’m a fool,” he said softly.

“You’re not,” Parker replied, kneeling beside him. “You’re hurt. That’s human.”

“I gave him everything. I thought we were stronger than this.” He wept. 

Parker reached out and touched his arm. “He made a mistake. It doesn’t mean you’re broken.”

“I can’t stop seeing it. Jordan and Scott. Laughing. Sneaking off.” He took a breath. “How did I not see it?”

Parker paused. “Alfie, listen to me. You’re safe now. It’s over.”

But the forest around them warped. The edges of the leaves shimmered. A soft, low hum filled the air.

Alfie blinked, then stood up suddenly.

“I see them.”

Parker looked around. “What?”

“There!” He pointed to a gap between trees.

Jordan and Scott stood together, their arms wrapped around each other. Jordan looked over at Alfie and grinned wickedly.

“I love him,” Jordan called. “He’s the better kisser, too.”

“No!” Alfie gasped.

“Don’t be so emotional, Alfie,” Scott added. “You were always too soft. You’ve become so dependent on Jordan. That’s not fair on him. He needs to be with someone who loves him truly.”

Parker stood in front of Alfie and grabbed hold of him. “Alfie, whatever you’re seeing, none of this is real. Look at me.”

But he didn’t hear her. All he could see and hear was Scott and Jordan mocking him as they put their arms around each other. Jordan leaned in and kissed Scott again, slow and deliberate.

Alfie screamed. He staggered backwards, hit a tree, and slid to the ground. His eyes rolled back, and he passed out.

Askew, Jaceon and Lee had split up to check the surrounding area. All of them were scanning for bio-neural anomalies or signs of environmental contamination. Askew spotted Beatrice first, sprawled near a gnarled tree, unmoving.

“Eden, Jaceon!” she called.

Jaceon was already crouched near another figure. “I’ve got Scott, he’s out cold.”

Askew knelt by Beatrice, her fingers flying over the tricorder. “She’s showing the same neural activity as Jordan. Elevated theta waves. Whatever’s doing this, it’s cascading.”

Her badge chirped. “Parker to Askew, Alfie just collapsed. We need help.”

Askew tapped her combadge. “Understood. Stay put. We’ll coordinate extraction.”

Lee joined her with a frown. “Four cadets down and all with the same symptoms. Hallucinations, neurological stress responses, collapse.”

Askew exhaled, glancing back toward the glowing grove beyond the trees. “Whatever this is, it’s targeting the neurological chemistry of our younger minds.”

Lee nodded. “Maybe something residual from the flora or the atmosphere. Neurogenic pulses? Or a psychotropic resonance?”

Jaceon looked at the two commanders. “It certainly appears to be age-specific and selective.”

Lee tapped a few commands into his tricorder. “I’m detecting something—a low-level neurogenic field. Possibly being emitted by a field generator. I can’t tell.”

Askew looked back at her husband. “Let’s get them back to the Astra before anyone else collapses.” After he nodded in agreement, she tapped her combadge. “Astra, emergency transport of Midshipman Florrick and Cadets Grant, and McCallister-Reyas. Beam them directly to sickbay.”