A Difficult Call

Posted on Sun Aug 30th, 2026 @ 6:05am by Lieutenant JG Diana Sereno & Commodore Lucian Marshall

3,318 words; about a 17 minute read

Mission: The Hand That Rocks The Babe
Location: Ready Room

The ready room aboard the USS Dreadnought had rarely felt quite so quiet.

Beyond the wide viewport, the stars remained utterly indifferent to what was happening below them. Velis III hung in the darkness of the viewscreen, beautiful from orbit, its continents and oceans illuminated beneath the faint glow of its sun. There was nothing from this distance to suggest that the millions of lives were being lost beneath those clouds.

Commodore Lucian Marshall stood behind his desk, hands resting against its edge as the secure channel established itself.

The Federation Council chamber appeared on the main wall mounted display. Councillors from across the Federation materialized in their respective places, their expressions ranging from concerned to openly apprehensive. The secure connection had been given priority, and judging by the number of representatives present, the situation on Velis III had finally reached the level where it could no longer be treated as a local emergency.

Lucian straightened.

“Councillors. Thank you for accepting this transmission on such short notice.” He paused, his eyes moving across the assembled faces. “I wish I were contacting you under better circumstances.”

He activated the console beside him, bringing up a series of reports, casualty projections, medical scans, and orbital imagery. “This is an operational update regarding the situation on Velis III.”

The first image displayed was the planet itself. “Conditions have deteriorated significantly since our arrival. What initially appeared to be a localized viral outbreak has developed into a planetary-scale humanitarian crisis. Local medical infrastructure is overwhelmed. Hospitals are operating beyond capacity, supplies are becoming critically limited, and entire population centers are struggling to maintain even basic medical services.”

His jaw tightened slightly.

“Our personnel have established a field hospital and are providing assistance wherever possible. Starfleet medical teams, Marines, security personnel and support crews are all operating around the clock but our efforts are insufficient and being swiftly overwhelmed, there have been casualties.”

Another series of figures appeared. “The problem is that the scale of the crisis is rapidly exceeding our ability to contain it.”

Lucian allowed that statement to settle. “We are not dealing with a situation where additional personnel alone will solve the problem. We are dealing with a situation where the number of patients is increasing faster than we can treat them.”

He glanced briefly toward the woman seated nearby. “Because I believe the Council needs to hear the medical assessment directly, I have asked Dr. Diana Sereno to join me.”

Lucian stepped slightly aside, giving her the focus of the transmission. “Doctor.” His voice softened marginally. “Tell them what we're dealing with.”

Diana stepped up to where the Commodore had been and took a breath. This was the first time she'd been out of the quarantined zone since she'd stepped onto the ship and had been subject to an inordinate amount of tests, repeated no less than five times each. She wasn't taking ANY chances with the lives of everyone on the ship. "Good Morning, Councillors. The situation on Velis Three according to strictly the numbers is an understatement of what we are actually seeing." She stood in an 'at ease' position, her hands at the small of her back so they couldn't see how they were wringing with each other, "To say that basic medical services are being struggled with is only a compromise to the fact that population centers have been decimated by the disease."

She tried to meet the eyes of the people she was talking to, "The virus that has already killed an estimated fifty-eight percent of the population has been bio-engineered specifically to target the genome of the residents of the planet and has not shown any signs of mutation away from complete and utter lethality. At present, there are zero known survivors of the local population that have contracted the virus, with viral strands from the initial samples we took upon our arrival to ones taken hours ago being identical down to the last base pair. Typically a virus mutates in order to kill their hosts slowly, lest they run out of hosts, which will inevitably turn it into something that can be treated. This is not the case for Velis III. Despite every treatment we've tried, no matter how thorough, how invasive, should even one viral strand remain, the subject will not survive."

Her voice had gone monotone, a clear sign of dread as she revisited the last month or however long it had been. It felt like it had been a year, but that wasn't true. 'It behaves differently within the subjects, going after whatever organs are weakest first, almost as if it can scan the host body to find the vulnerability."

"Once an organ has been infected, the virus replicates very quickly, compromises the cells at a pace that is rarely seen anywhere in medical history, then moves on. While it is primarily transmitted by bodily fluids, with any droplets, from say a cough, being completely infectious if landing on bare skin, it has also been confirmed that it is transmissible via airborne form as well. High levels of UV will kill it, antimicrobials will kill it in strong enough intensity, but even in broad sunlight, it has a survivability level in the air of well over one minute, of which just several seconds is considered enough to be an existential threat to life." Diana shook her head slowly, "Dreadnought's personnel started off with complete bio-containment from the moment we hit the ground, yet sixty-eight of our personnel comprised of twelve species have contracted the virus. Of those, sixty-five have already died, one is imminent and two are in critical condition." Her eyes flicked around to everyone in the view, "This virus is lethal to every species that I have been able to expose tissue from to. If it is allowed to get off-world, it is my belief that it could cause an existential crisis not only to the surrounding systems, but to the Federation and life in our galaxy as a whole."

She let that sink in for two seconds, "I do not say this as a panic reaction, Councilors, and I pray that someone far smarter than I am will find some cure or vaccine for this virus, but as of this moment, there is no effective treatment for this virus. If the pattern continues on the ground, ninety-six percent of the population will be deceased within forty-five days from today, with an average time from contraction to death being roughly six to eight days. Localized individuals or small groups may survive, but then they would have to survive with a societal collapse, if possible, in a hazardous environment where this virus may remain dormant in bodies of water, or corpses, just waiting."

Diana nodded once, "I'm available if anyone has any questions."

For several seconds after Diana finished speaking, Lucian said nothing.

The silence coming from the Council was almost oppressive.

He watched the councillors exchanging uneasy glances, heard the faint murmur of conversations beginning between representatives, and saw more than one person looking down toward a console as information was undoubtedly being pulled up in real time. The Commodore let them have those few seconds. They had earned them.

He looked toward Diana briefly. There was no need to acknowledge her aloud. The slight nod he gave her was enough. Then he turned back toward the Council. “Councillors.”

His voice was quieter than it had been before. “Everything Dr. Sereno has just told you is supported by the data gathered by my ship's medical department, our science teams, and our personnel operating on the surface.” Lucian moved toward the display and brought up a tactical representation of Velis III.

“The figure of fifty-eight percent is not an estimate pulled from a theoretical model. It is based upon confirmed population loss and extrapolation from regions where communications have ceased.”

Another series of locations appeared. “Entire population centers have gone silent.” He paused. “And there is something else I need the Council to understand.”

His expression hardened. “The Dreadnought did not arrive unprepared.” He brought up the ship's original quarantine protocols. “From the moment our personnel entered the atmosphere, they operated under biological containment procedures. Personnel deployed to the surface were isolated. Equipment was sterilized. Samples were contained. Transport protocols were established specifically to prevent contamination of the ship.”

He looked directly at the monitor. “And despite all of that, sixty-eight members of my crew have contracted this virus.” The words carried considerably more weight than the number alone. “Sixty-five are dead.”

Lucian's jaw tightened. “One is not expected to survive.” His eyes flicked briefly toward Diana before returning to the Council. “And two are currently fighting for their lives.” He allowed another moment of silence.

“My crew followed every procedure available to them. They did everything correctly.” His voice became harder. “And people still died.” Lucian folded his hands behind his back.

“I am telling you this because I don't want the Council leaving this meeting believing that the Dreadnought can simply maintain the quarantine indefinitely and eventually solve this ourselves.” He shook his head. “We cannot.”

The tactical display changed, showing the Dreadnought alongside the planet. “We can continue humanitarian operations. We can continue treating patients. We can continue supporting the local authorities and attempting to evacuate those who can still be safely moved.”

He paused. “But we cannot manufacture a cure.” Lucian's gaze remained fixed on the Council. “And we cannot afford to make a mistake.” His expression became almost grim.

“If this organism reaches a transport hub, a colony ship, a visiting vessel, or even another world through a contaminated individual, we may not get a second chance.” He took a slow breath.

“So I am making a recommendation to the Council.” The display changed again. “Velis III must be treated as a Level-One biological emergency.” He let the designation sit for a moment. “Complete planetary quarantine. No civilian or commercial traffic. No departures without authorization from Starfleet Command and medical clearance. Any vessel approaching the system must be warned away.”

For several moments, no one on the Council spoke. The transmission remained open, the image of Velis III hanging behind the Commodore and the doctor like an accusation.

Eventually, the President of the Federation Council leaned forward, clasping both hands together atop the desk. “Thank you, Commodore Marshall. Doctor Sereno.” The President's voice was measured, but the gravity behind it was unmistakable.

“Before we make any determination, I am requesting a brief recess.” A few councillors nodded immediately. Others exchanged uncertain looks.

The transmission did not terminate. Instead, the Council chamber shifted into private deliberation. Lucian and Diana were left watching as the representatives began speaking amongst themselves. The first voice came from a councillor representing one of the larger Federation medical worlds. “We cannot authorize unrestricted deployment of personnel into an active biological disaster without knowing whether our containment protocols are sufficient. Sixty-eight Starfleet personnel were infected despite containment.”

“And doing nothing guarantees further deaths,” another councillor countered. “Doing nothing may guarantee more than deaths,” a third replied. “If this pathogen is genuinely capable of crossing species barriers as the doctor suggests, then every additional vessel entering that system becomes a potential vector.”

“Which is precisely why the Commodore has requested a quarantine.”

“And who enforces it?” That question silenced the room for a moment.

The President looked toward one of the security representatives. “Starfleet?”

“Starfleet can enforce a perimeter,” the representative answered. “But if we're talking about a planetary quarantine, we'd need considerably more than a single Valkyrie-class vessel.” Another councillor shook their head.

“And what happens when the people on Velis III realize we're refusing them evacuation?”

“They may already be beyond the point where conventional evacuation is possible.”

“Then we have to determine who is making that decision.” The medical councillor spoke again. “The doctor said localized groups may survive.”

“Possibly.”

“Then we cannot simply abandon them.”

“No one has suggested abandoning them.”

“You are suggesting we leave them there.”

“I am suggesting that we don't kill millions more by allowing the pathogen to escape.”

The room erupted into overlapping voices.

The President raised a hand. “Enough.” The President looked down at the information on the console before them. “We can establish a restricted exclusion zone around Velis III, but it will require additional ships. Ideally, dedicated quarantine vessels rather than standard fleet assets.”

The President's expression hardened. “Nobody is evacuated." He sighed. "We can not risk the virus getting off planet."

“That is why this cannot remain solely a humanitarian operation.” A new authorization appeared on the central display. “Effective immediately, Velis III will be designated a Federation-level biological emergency.”

The President looked toward the transmission. “Commodore Marshall.”

“And I am authorizing the Dreadnought to remain in operational command of the humanitarian response until relieved by a medical task force or until determined that remaining on station is no longer viable.” The words were deliberate.

“Commodore, you have our authority to request whatever immediate resources are necessary within the parameters of the quarantine.” The President paused.

“But there is one more matter.” Their expression became considerably more serious.

“We are authorizing an investigation into the origin of the pathogen.” The science councillor leaned forward.

“If this was deliberately engineered, we need to know by whom. We need to determine whether Velis III was the intended target, whether the pathogen was deployed elsewhere, and whether anyone else possesses the means to create something similar.” The President looked directly toward Lucian and Diana. “And until we know the answer to those questions, Velis III remains sealed.”

The President finally leaned back. “Commodore Marshall, Doctor Sereno, you have the Council's authorization.” A faint movement passed through the chamber as the councillors settled back into their seats.

Despite being the one to bring the news and the initial recommendation to the Commodore, Diana still felt like a Caitian had wound up a punch and hit her in the stomach with full force. She'd just sentenced millions more to die on the world rotating peacefully below her and all she could do was stand here, waiting for dismissal.

He watched her standing beside him, posture still rigidly professional despite the small tremor in her voice. He knew what she was asking for wasn't really permission to leave. She needed to return to the quarantine zone because that was where she could still do something.

Where she could still fight. His eyes moved toward the viewscreen. The Council chamber remained visible, the representatives waiting for his response. He gave them a slow nod. “Understood.”

There was no triumph in his voice. No relief. The Council had approved everything he'd asked for. More medical personnel. More scientific resources. More equipment. A dedicated quarantine perimeter. Authority to continue the operation.

On paper, it was an excellent outcome. In reality, it meant Velis III had just been placed under the most severe quarantine the Federation could impose. And millions of people were still going to die.

Lucian drew a slow breath. “Councillors, I appreciate the decision you've made.” Lucian gave the Council a final nod. “Thank you for your time.”

The connection began to terminate. The faces of the councillors disappeared one by one until the viewscreen returned to the silent image of Velis III.

For several seconds, Lucian simply stood there.

Diana stood there too, not wanting to move, yet wanting to be anywhere other than where she stood, definitely not to be alone with her thoughts. How would she handle this after it was finally over? COULD she handle it? Those were questions that had now started to bounce around inside her.

She'd failed. That was the plain and the simple of it, she had failed Chase once again, despite the at least temporary victory with Victoria Aries and Cassian Massy. But worse, she had failed an entire planet this time. She squeezed her eyes shut in the mental anguish; she had to stay professional, she couldn't show the Commodore her weakness, she had to be the rock of Medical.

Lucian didn't move. He could have dismissed her. He could have told her to return to Medical, issued whatever orders needed to be issued, and continued with the endless stream of decisions waiting for him.

Instead, he remained beside her in silence. He had seen people break before. Not always dramatically. Sometimes there was no shouting, no tears, no collapse to the floor. Sometimes it was simply the way someone became very still, as though every ounce of energy was being spent holding themselves together.

Diana was doing that now. She had squeezed her eyes shut for only a moment, but Lucian had seen it. He knew better than to pretend he hadn't.

“Doctor.” His voice was quiet. “You've stood in quarantine. You've watched people die. You've treated my crew knowing that every procedure you performed carried the possibility of exposing yourself.”

His gaze lowered briefly. “And then you stood in front of the Federation Council and told them exactly how bad this was.” Lucian shook his head slowly.

“That isn't failure.” He let the words sit between them. “I know it feels like it is.”

His voice softened. “But failure would have been lying to them because the truth was too difficult to say.”

"I know, sir." Diana said quietly, fighting back tears, "But it doesn't make it any easier to deal with. And being the one that has led this fight and lost it? Makes me wonder if I were the one that should have."

Diana finally turned to Lucian, the tears still being fought back but ready to fall if she was unguarded with herself, "How do you deal with this, Commodore? How can we? How can I?"

Lucian didn't answer immediately.

The question deserved more than a commander's platitude, and he knew better than to tell her that it would get easier. He had seen too many officers carry impossible decisions long after the crisis had ended to believe that.

He turned fully toward her. For once, there was no Commodore standing before Diana. Just a man who had been forced to send people into danger and then live with the consequences.

“I don't know.” The admission was quiet. Lucian held her gaze. “I wish I could give you a better answer than that.”

He took a slow breath. “I don't think we ever really learn how to deal with it, Doctor. We learn how to carry it.”

His eyes briefly dropped toward the deck.

Her eyes fell to the same place. Her entire career to this point had been an exercise in responsibility. Very few people could truly understand just what a doctor had to go through, even fewer had the hopes of communities and worlds resting on their shoulders. None ever expected it, it was how they met that test which would define who they ended up being in the final measure.

Whenever things had gotten hard for Diana, she'd go swimming to let the pressure flow around her like the water, to give herself the inner peace she always felt when it was just her and the pool, the lack of expectations. She wondered now if she could ever get that feeling back ever again. "I should..." She got out before she trailed off again, desperately not wanting to go back, knowing she had to because she was their best chance.

Lucian studied Diana for another moment.

He could see the reluctance in her posture, the part of her that desperately wanted to remain somewhere, anywhere, other than the quarantine zone, while another part of her already knew exactly where she needed to be.

There was nothing more he could say that would make the weight she was carrying disappear.

Perhaps there never would be. He gave her a small, understanding nod.

***
Commodore Lucian Marshall
Commanding Officer
USS Dreadnought

and

Lieutenant (jg) Diana Sereno
Medical Officer
USS Dreadnought

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