Cascading Echoes

CHAPTER SEVEN

MED LABS

The hum of the med bay was a familiar sound to Michael. Like most aboard Discovery, she had been here countless times, but today felt different. The sterile white lights reflected off the walls, casting a soft glow over the advanced medical equipment surrounding her. Two med-techs stood by her side, preparing for her full medical workup.

The female tech, Jora, was a Denobulan with moderate telepathic abilities—a fact Michael had always been curious about. Jora's ridged forehead and warm, expressive eyes were characteristic of her species. She had a friendly demeanor and a quick wit, often engaging Michael in light-hearted banter during her regular check-ups. Despite her usual cheerful disposition, today there was a sense of tension between them that felt out of place. Jora's telepathic abilities allowed her to sense emotions, which often made her an empathetic and attentive medical professional. However, the current situation seemed to weigh heavily on her, adding an unusual strain to her interactions with Michael.

"Having a bad day?" Michael asked, watching Jora gather her equipment.

"Long time no see, Commander," Jora said with a warm smile, her ridged forehead creasing slightly as she positioned the med-scanner over Michael's body. "Nothing important, I just started a new diet. How's life in the stars treating you?"

Michael chuckled softly, trying to shake the nervousness building within her. "Oh, you know, just the usual. Save the universe, return home, repeat."

Jora laughed, her eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and concern. "Sounds exhausting. You really should take a vacation one of these days."

"Maybe when this is all over," Michael replied, her gaze shifting toward the other med-tech, a human named Eric she'd never met. His small name bar on his uniform introduced him. The dark-haired man focused on adjusting the settings of his scanner. He had a calm, methodical demeanor, his movements like most in his profession, precise and efficient.

"Alright, Commander," Eric said, glancing up with a reassuring smile. "This will just take a minute. Let's get those vitals."

The scanner emitted a soft whirring noise as it began its sweep over Michael's body. Jora watched the readout carefully, her brow furrowing as the data appeared on her handheld device. A moment later, her expression turned puzzled.

"That's... odd," Jora muttered under her breath.

Michael's curiosity piqued. "What is it?"

Jora glanced at Eric, who looked just as confused. "The scanner's readings appear to be off. It's showing some strange activity in your neural pathways."

"Probably just a malfunction," Eric suggested, frowning as he tapped a few buttons. "Let's try a different scanner."

Michael raised an eyebrow. "You're telling me this advanced piece of Starfleet technology is broken?"

Jora gave her a reassuring smile. "You'd be surprised how often the diagnostic protocols fail on these things. Don't worry, we'll get it sorted."

The two med-techs retrieved another scanner, quickly repeating the process. This time, Jora's expression went from puzzled to concerned.

"Okay, that's not right," Jora whispered to Eric.

The two exchanged a glance before stepping away from Michael, moving to the far side of the med bay as if searching for more equipment. Michael watched as they huddled together, discussing the results in low voices.

From across the room, Michael could sense their worry. She focused on Jora's body language—the slight stiffening of her shoulders, the way her hands fidgeted with the scanner. There was something else too. It was faint at first, like a whisper, but then it grew louder.