Personal log, Stardate 40912.12

Posted on 02 Aug 2020 @ 4:07am by Lieutenant T'Char Le'el

T’Char sits at her desk, her uniform replaced by a dirty grey tank-top, with thick yellow freight issue pants tucked into equally dirty and yellow boots. The top of the jumpsuit is tied about her waist haphazardly, the same yellow if not faded by exposure to a hot sun. She anxiously taps a PADD for a moment, comparing it to the screen on her desk.

“Computer, begin personal log. Stardate 40912.12.”

She doesn't move her view from the data running across her screen for a moment while she swipes at each console. Her eyes are cold, and hard.

“The expedition to Farius Prime may have been something of a success. There was notable progress made in tracking down the biogenic weapon. The-”

Her voice wavers as she pauses, wincing. It makes her look up from her PADD.

“..the captured, Romulan has apparently been cooperative. However, I doubt that any information she decides to give us will hold any merit. The task of locating the weapon remains the responsibility of this crew. On a related note- my diagnosis of the chemicals needed to store the binary organism have yielded information as to how the compound itself functions, and therefore, potentially advances the development of a treatment.”

The Vulcan places down her PADD and sits upright in her chair, gritting her teeth as she exhales. She allows her body to relax, but her eyes remain narrow and tense.

“However, in seeking to find an antigen, I am now more acquainted with the function of the weapon. My initial examination determined that it was a virus. I was incorrect, it is a bacterial spore of malevolent design.”

She stands, folding her arms and facing the window. Farius Prime is a bright star about about a parsec from the Boston, close to the yellow giant it orbits. The light of the Farius star seems small in comparison to the luminosity of the planet at this distance.

“As I have stated before, the pathogen is binary. Meaning that it requires a secondary organism to manifest as symptomatic, as well as a catalyst enzyme to trigger cellular activity. Only a single half of this system was listed in the information I was given regarding the spore, the malevolent bacterium. I am forced to conclude that the required secondary component for the spore resides in the lung of every living humanoid. Lactobacillus.”

She glances to the side as a small meteorite collides with the shields, practically vaporizing. A one in a billion billion chance for the tiny rock to meet its end after travelling for so many millennia through the cosmos. Highly improbable and yet...

“Lactobacillus converts sugars into lactic acid, and subsequently acts as a preventive measure in the humanoid microbiota against forms of various pathogenic infections. The spore is engineered to react with this bacteria, destroying the protective glucose capsule and spreading the tri-protein exotoxin through lactic acid secretion. It reaches the bloodstream within three minutes of inhalation, and causes total patient death from hypovolemic and septic shock within six hours.”

She pauses, biting her lip and turning away from the window. She moves to her desk and places both hands on the surface, putting her weight on one foot as she leans forwards to scan her research again. Nothing she sees is reassuring.

“The spore is also able to remain dormant for upwards of 70 years in most environments by attaching itself to varying dust particulates, and harboring within biological systems via the Mucous secretory cell of the epithelial membrane. Without the binary catalyst enzyme to initiate transfer to the Lactobacillus, in order to manifest symptoms through the process of dissolution from the protective glucose capsule, it is impossible to determine who may be a carrier. Until of course, it is too late.”

The Vulcan considers a planet is rather not unlike an animal cell, with an atmospheric membrane and many cohesive elements within. If a toxin can pierce the membrane of the cell undamaged, it’s capable of upheaving the balance within an ecosystem quite radically.

“The spore, if introduced into an oxygen composite air atmosphere, will totally eradicate all humanoid life within the span of 168 hours, given the presence of the catalyst enzyme. There will be no means of detecting the spore reliably, and therefore no means of prevention. A single carrier patient may enter and leave the surface of a planet, spreading the infection by contact while remaining asymptomatic, and not a few hours afterwards the entire population will die.”

T’Char picks up her PADD, if only to give her hands something to do. She tries to ignore the fact that they shake ever so slightly.

“I am required to note that Hydrochlorifite, one of the compounds used in combination with Mythelexion and Glucosic-Immunoglobulin within the bio-mimetic gel to prevent the growth of new bacterium while in storage, was traced to the boot of the Romulan in custody. During the storage process, the hostile bacteria, henceforth referred to as Pravum-Ataraxia, is bonded to this chemical as a carrier. It is a distinct possibility that the entire crew has been exposed.”

She tosses down the PADD, gripping her hands together to squeeze them nervously, trying to allay the shaking. The Vulcan can’t seem to stand in one place for too long, so she strides back and forth across her small room. It doesn’t do much for her nerves, only helping her to ignore them altogether.

“Though I found no traces of the Pravum-Ataraxia spores on the Romulan, the potential for the compound to be released on Farius Prime is undeniable. And if it is indeed released on Farius Prime, it may have infected any of the crew present during the away mission.”

She bites her lip, halted in her tracks by an unpleasant thought. The Vulcan clenches and unclenches her fist, racking her mind for possibilities. But it’s hard to concentrate on probability scenarios while worrying for the safety of a certain blue-skinned individual.
How many times did they touch today? He led her by the hand onto the open floor in that bar, before leading her again in a dance. She’d never danced before, the Vulcan thought it would be uncomfortable, and awkward. It was awkward, but not uncomfortable. Not with him. How illogical.
He took a shot before they went up, and she drank from a cocktail at the same bar. If either of them had been exposed, they’d both be infected. She was close enough to feel his breath while they were dancing, it was warm, comforting. The bacteria was aerosolic, so they may as well have just kissed by that point. T’Char thinks that might’ve been nice.
She frowns, this wasn’t what she started thinking about.

“I intend to broach the subject of a potential quarantine for the entire ship until I can determine no crew members have been infected. With the assistance of Dr. H’Rilla, the chief medical officer, we may even develop a means of inoculation.”

She finally sits at her desk again, facing her screen. Her breathing is noticeably faster than it was.

“It is strange, though I have the means and the ability to combat many varying types of infections, I cannot help but feel powerless to do anything against Ataraxia. For all I am aware, it may already be dispersed among multiple population centers, or even onboard, threatening those whom I care a great deal about.”

As the pair walks back to the bar from the floor, the Andorian smiles at the Vulcan, his arm coming over her shoulder. She can feel her ears getting hot as she avoids his eyes. She leans into his chest without thinking, hiding her face from an imaginary audience.

“My earnest hope is that I simply suffer the effects of paranoia from the excessive time I have spent covering this disease. But there is no conclusion I can draw from what I have learned today. My research only inspires more questions, and… a great deal of fear.”

She taps her desk console to end the log, leaving her hand on the screen for a longer moment than usual before leaning back into her chair. The room feels slightly colder than usual.