“This morning, Lieutenant J.G. Anders arrived in sickbay presenting with bradycardia, hypoxemia, fatigue, and neurological hypoactivation causing disorientation, apathy and irritability,” Dr. Karl Verhoeven recounted. “Our analysis found no signs of infection, but biochemical markers do suggest an acute toxicological exposure response.”

“As in that he was exposed to something that made him sick?” Captain Ria Alleyne asked warily. This morning meeting of the medical and senior staff of the Kennedy and Ingenuity had been called by Dr. Verhoeven quite urgently, and she was already expecting the worst. “But sick like from chemicals, not like a disease he could spread to others, right?” 

“Exactly,” Lieutenant Krer Feyir nodded. “Not in a contagious sense.” He understood her worry. The trauma from the contagion on Archanis Station was still fresh on all their minds. “But this doesn’t mean we won’t see more cases… not if others are exposed to the same vector.”

Given their ongoing support mission to Lepia IV, Lieutenant Commander Carter Gray didn’t like where this was going. “Exposed to what?”

“To the toxin given off by the fungal blight,” Lieutenant Krer answered.

That was exactly what the Kennedy‘s executive officer had feared the doctor would say. “We’ve got dozens of people down there,” Lieutenant Commander Gray reminded them as nervousness washed across his face, his mind immediately going to whether he should issue an emergency recall order. “Why is Anders showing first? He’s as fit as they come.”

“It’s not a matter of fitness,” Dr. Verhoeven jumped back in. “It’s just a matter of exposure. Early daylight hours in a diurnal cycle typically coincide with peak release phase in fungal species, and combined with heavy respiration from sustained exertion, it is a logical outcome.”

“Anders’ fitness may have even contributed to his rate of response,” Lieutenant Krer added. “His high cardiovascular efficiency as a runner means he’s pulling more air into his lungs than most.” The mechanics truthfully were a bit more complicated than that, but as opposed to the ASTRA researcher who spent his day with other scientists, the Kennedy‘s doctor knew how to keep his explanations simple for mixed company. “It’s only a matter of time for the others though.”

“I see…” Lieutenant Commander Gray frowned, ready to tap his combadge and pull everyone out.

“What I don’t get…” Ensign Seraphine Lunaire mused, not meaning to cut her boss off, but curiosity got the better of her. “Just yesterday, Jay was trying to get me to join him for his run. He was telling me how beautiful it was out there. Clean. Clear. Unadulterated. Not a sign of the decay that we see in Lepia IV’s arable fields. Made me think it was okay out there.”

“Remember, ensign, that this is a rhizospheric mycopathogen, not leaf mold,” Dr. Verhoeven counseled in a mentoring tone. “Mycelial spread, in this case, principally occurs sub-surface, and canopies are likely to remain green until critical thresholds are crossed.”

“I guess…” Ensign Lunaire considered his words in a train of consciousness. “But the fields… the impacts are very clear above the surface, so I just thought… why would the fields present more visibly?” As much as it was curiosity, she also felt a bit responsible. If she’d known better, maybe she could have cautioned Lieutenant Anders from his runs, and then he wouldn’t have ended up in sickbay.

“Agricultural operations create ideal conditions for spread,” Dr. Verhoeven explained. This was not the first time he’d observed such diametric behaviors between colocated natural and engineered ecosystems. “Fertilizer enriches nutrients, organic turnover feeds the fungus, and plowing distributes hyphal fragments.”

At this point though, Lieutenant Commander Gray could have cared less about the why. The scientists could work on that in their own time. Right now, he wanted to know about the reality for his people and if he needed to pull them out. “Let’s keep the focus on Jay for a moment. What’s actually going on with him? What specifically was he exposed to?”

“Doctor Krer and I have identified high prevalence of a foreign neuroactive alkaloid in Lieutenant Anders’ bloodstream,” Dr. Verhoeven explained. “This compound acts as a serotonin reuptake inhibitor and a dopamine pathway suppressor, producing reduced activity in the prefrontal cortex, the limbic system, and autonomic pathways that govern cardiac rhythm and respiration.”

Knowing his colleagues and sensing the confusion on their faces, Doctor Krer was quick to provide a translation into more layman’s terms: “Basically, he inhaled a compound released by the fungus that causes his body to fatigue and his mind to dull.”

“I thought you said we had nothing to worry about,” Lieutenant Commander Gray said pointedly, his frustration directed at Dr. Verhoeven.

“No, Commander,” Dr. Verhoeven shook his head calmly, unperturbed by the flare up. “I said I had no reason to suspect an exposure response based on what we had seen from a genetic relative, but I also said I couldn’t rule out the potential.”

“No offense, doctor,” Lieutenant Commander Alonso Romero said sharply as he folded his arms across his chest. “But that’s a lot of words to say that you had no fucking idea.” He wasn’t worried about his people the way his counterpart on the Ingenuity was, but the former security officer didn’t like it when one fucked up and then tried to weasel out on a technicality.

Captain Cora Lee looked over at Lieutenant Commander Romero disapprovingly. She wasn’t going to let her new executive officer turn this into an indictment. That was neither helpful nor fair to the well-meaning microbiologist who’d been working with incomplete information. “Dr. Verhoeven was perfectly clear with us with the need to stay vigilant, and Dr. Krer here did exactly that,” she noted as she smiled at the Bajoran doctor. “And that’s why we’re here now.”

Before either of the executive officers should retort, Lieutenant Josh Brunell jumped in to try and keep the conversation moving in a productive direction. “Karl, what does this mean for our people? We’ve got a lot of folks down there.”

“Surface operations should only continue appropriate respiratory protection in place,” Dr. Verhoeven advised. “Filtration rated at 0.2 microns should be sufficient. As for other vectors, based on the properties of the alkaloid, I’m not concerned with non-inhalation risk, such as dermal sorption, as it would require concentrations beyond ecological feasibility.”

Letting go of his earlier frustration, Lieutenant Commander Gray followed up with a practical inquiry: “What about the exposure our crews have already incurred?”

“Not of particular concern,” Dr. Verhoeven replied.  “The compound isn’t biologically replicating, and symptoms arise from cumulative build up through repeated exposure, so if they are not presenting with symptoms and further exposure is avoided, they should not have an issue.”

Captain Alleyne breathed a sigh of relief. At least she wasn’t looking at a situation that would continue to deteriorate. “What about Anders?”

“As long as additional exposure is avoided, his body will clear the compound within a few days, and acute physiological symptoms should pass,” Dr. Verhoeven hypothesized. “Neural recovery, though, will take longer. How much longer, I cannot foresee.”

“We will be monitoring Anders to understand the exact process,” Lieutenant Krer added. “I also suggest that Dr. Lister and I screen anyone else with surface visits to determine concentrations of this specific alkaloid in their bloodstream, and then, for anyone with significant accumulation, even if asymptomatic, we should restrict future visits until their levels come down.”

“That seems most sensible to cover any lapses in protective protocols,” Lieutenant J.G. Alex Lister nodded in concurrence. They’d been listening quietly until now, feeling a bit out of their depth surrounded by all these more senior and more experienced officers. “Can you send me the biochemical signature and concentration limits so we can spread out the workload?”

“They’ll be waiting at your station by the time you’re back on Ingenuity,” Lieutenant Krer nodded.

While the doctors worked out the logistics, a lightbulb went off in Captain Alleyne’s head. “Wait… if we’re seeing effects after only a week here, what does this mean for the colonists?”

“Exactly the right question,” Dr. Verhoeven smiled, not on account of the suffering the colonists were going through, but because he enjoyed watching the process of discovery in real time. “They’ve lived with this exposure for an extended period. Bioaccumulation will be considerably higher, and I can only hypothesize that their presentation is already well advanced.”

Now it was time for a lightbulb to go off in Ensign Lunaire’s head. “That explains a lot,” she shared. “When Jay and I were in the fields, the Lepians seemed so fatigued and detached that I wondered how they’d ever managed to tend to their crops at all.”

“It also explains the response we got from the colonial government,” Captain Alleyne added. While she understood the doubts they had, having been like them once long ago herself, the depth of their irritability and distrust had seemed almost non-natural. “Now we know why.”

Always focused on solutions, Lieutenant Brunell cut straight to the chase: “If we can defeat the blight, how long will their recovery take?”

“Best case,” Dr. Verhoeven surmised. “Physiological symptoms, probably a few days to a couple weeks. The neurological impacts won’t pass as quickly though. For those with years of exposure, my best guess is that full recovery could take many months.”

That was far too long. “Is there anything we can do for them to speed that up?” Captain Alleyne asked, her voice brimming with compassion. Starfleet had done a half-assed job with the blight the first time, and even before that, it had seeded the conditions for the blight to evolve as it had. She felt deeply responsible. They needed to resolve it fully and completely this time, and anything they could do to shorten these people’s suffering, they needed to do it.

“By studying how Lieutenant Anders goes through the stages of recovery, it may be possible to develop a neuroregulatory stabilizer to speed up the process for the colonists,” Dr. Verhoeven offered. In a way, they’d gotten lucky to have someone on their crew affected.

There was only one problem, Captain Lee knew. “First, though, we have to defeat the blight itself.” She, along with Lieutenant Brunell, Ensign Lunaire, and the other engineers and scientists from the Ingenuity, had been hard at work on options, but so far, they didn’t have a solution, all the easy options ruled out by the blight’s inherited traits.

“Yes, we do, and quickly,” Dr. Verhoeven emphasized. “The mycopathogen’s uptake across the planetary biome is accelerating on account of its inherited enrichment feature. Sporulation will keep intensifying, and with continued and increasing exposure, the neurological effects on the populace may develop greater structural persistence as the brain rewires around the deficits.”

“And that would be much harder to solve,” Lieutenant J.G. Lister shuddered.

“Indeed,” agreed Dr. Verhoeven.

Captain Alleyne had the final word: “Then we need to hurry.”