Ship's Log – ISS Odyssey
Date: May 17, 2237 (Post-incident)
Reporting Officer: Cmdr. Dominic Reed
Casualty and Damage Summary:
Total crew deaths: 20 (list attached)
Crew injuries: 7 (3 critical, 4 moderate)
Key fatalities include:
Lt. Cmdr. Halley Raines (Security Chief) – KIA during engagement with hostile
Dr. Elias Zhang (Chief Medical) – KIA in Medlab incident
Lt. Cmdr. Omar Singh (Chief Engineer) – KIA during hostile encounter
PO2 Karl Resnick (Maintenance) – accidental death (coolant leak)
PO1 Oleg Kowalski (Engineering) – suicide
[Further names redacted for brevity]
Ship damage: Moderate. Multiple bullet impacts on Decks 2-5 bulkheads, minor fires extinguished. One coolant regulator was destroyed. Internal sensors on Deck 3 offline.
Containment: Hostile (Officer Caleb Royce, infected/controlled by unknown organism) neutralized. Remains secured in quarantine wrap. No movement or life signs.
Status: Aurora Station quarantine team docked at 14:00 today. They have commenced decontamination and evidence collection. Surviving crew are shaken but stable. Counseling measures in progress remotely via comm link with station psychologists. We are preparing to transfer the fallen once cleared.*
Commander Dominic Reed set down the tablet after finalizing the log. He rubbed his bandaged neck – the bruises from Caleb's chokehold were vivid. Across the briefing room table, Captain Voss sat quietly in a sling, her torso wrapped in fresh gauze. Her face was pale but resolute as she reviewed the casualty list.
"Halley, Singh, Elias... so many," Voss whispered, her voice thick. She closed her eyes. Reed reached out and gently squeezed her hand, the formality between them gone in shared grief.
"She saved my life," Reed said after a moment, referring to Raines. The security chief had succumbed to internal bleeding from an earlier wound shortly after the final battle, despite the medics' efforts.
Voss nodded, eyes glistening. "She saved all of us by ending it when she did."
They sat in heavy silence for a while, the weight of loss hanging in the air. Outside the briefing room's window, the looming shape of Aurora Station was visible, bright against Saturn's golden clouds. Help was here at last, but too late for so many.
A soft chime sounded; Nova Mendes stepped hesitantly through the doorway. The bruises on her throat were a stark purple, and her voice was husky as she spoke. "Captain, Commander – the station team is asking for us."
Voss cleared her throat and straightened. "Thank you, Nova. We'll be right there."
Nova entered fully, carrying a small sealed evidence bag. Inside it was a blood-stained notepad page. "Also... I thought you might want to see this. It's Dr. Zhang's final note. They found it at his workstation."
She handed it to Voss. The Captain opened the bag with care and withdrew the page, reading the shaky handwriting:
"Specimen reactive to stimuli. Highly adaptive. Possible neurochemical influence on the host – induces hallucinations, aggression. Not a virus or bacterium – think mimicry, symbiosis. Crew at risk. If containment fails, recommend extreme heat/cold or vacuum exposure – may be only ways to destroy. They mimic voices – don't trust senses. I fear we've invited our own doom aboard. Forgive us."
Below the writing was a splatter of blood and a final line, barely legible: "It watches. It learns."
Reed exhaled slowly. "He knew, at least in part."
Nova hugged her elbows. "Mimic voices... we experienced that. And neurochemical influence – could that explain... Kowalski's suicide? Perhaps the organism amplified his despair."
"It's possible," Voss agreed quietly. "We'll never know for sure."
She placed the note back in the bag. "Station's team will want this. And likely they'll want to... take Caleb's body for study."
A silence fell. Nova's eyes were downcast. Reed noticed her hands trembling slightly.
Voss met Reed's eyes. "Dom, could you give Nova and me a moment?"
Reed nodded and rose. He paused to put a comforting hand on Nova's shoulder. "I'll be outside if you need me." Then he left, closing the door.
Nova looked at the Captain, confusion and guilt written on her face. "Captain, I—"
Voss raised a hand gently. "I wanted to talk to you before the investigators swarm us. How are you holding up, Nova? Honestly."
Nova's composure cracked at the kindness in Voss's tone. "I... I don't know." Her voice wavered. "I keep seeing him. Not just how he... how he was at the end, but before. Laughing, complaining about rations, teasing me about my music choices..." She wiped her eyes. "It's like there were two Calebs, and one killed the other."
Voss stood and, despite the ache it caused, moved to Nova, pulling her into a gentle embrace. "What happened to him was not your fault. He was as much a victim of that thing as the others."
Nova nodded against the Captain's shoulder, tears dampening Voss's uniform. "I know. But I also know we... I had to stop him. It's just hard to reconcile that with the friend I cared about."
"He'd understand," Voss murmured. "If any part of him was aware at the end, I truly believe he'd thank you for freeing him."
Nova sniffled and stepped back, attempting a small, brave smile. "Thank you, Captain."
Voss returned to her seat, beckoning Nova to sit as well. "We'll be debriefed extensively. They'll want every detail. Don't let them twist it – Caleb died a hero in patrol logs, saving his crew from an alien threat. Not as a madman."
Nova looked surprised. "But... the record—"
"—will reflect the truth as we choose to tell it," Voss said firmly. "That he was infected, not in control of himself. That he sacrificed himself to contain the organism. No one on this crew will dispute that."
Nova realized Voss was protecting Caleb's honor – and perhaps protecting her and others from stigma or scrutiny. It brought fresh tears to her eyes, but she nodded.
A comm panel blinked; Reed's voice came through softly, "Station team is ready for us, Captain."
Voss acknowledged and stood once more, wincing at her injury. Nova moved to assist, but Voss shook her head with a faint smile. "I've got it. Just a flesh wound, as they say."
They headed out together.
Two hours later, the formalities were nearly over. A dozen officials from Aurora Station – in hazmat suits and armed escort – had combed through the Odyssey. They took holographic scans of the carnage, collected Dr. Zhang's logs and samples, and reverently placed the shrouded bodies of crew into transport coffins draped in the Earth flag.
The Odyssey's surviving crew stood at attention in the hangar bay as their fallen were carried off. Despite exhaustion, they formed crisp lines, honoring friends and colleagues with a final silent salute. Nova stood between Reed and Voss, her swollen eyes fixed on the floor.
When Raines's coffin passed, Reed bowed his head. When Singh's passed, Chief Engineer's surviving mate openly sobbed. As Dr. Zhang's went by, Nova bit her lip, remembering his kindness. And when the coffin bearing Caleb Royce came last – unmarked, classified – the crew struggled with conflicted hearts. Captain Voss stepped forward and placed her hand on the coffin's smooth surface as it paused before her, a gesture of apology and forgiveness in one.
The station commander overseeing the operation cleared his throat. "Captain Voss, we will ensure Officer Royce's... remains are handled with the utmost care in analysis."
Voss held the older man's gaze. "Thank you. Just... remember he was a good man. Not a monster. The monster was something else."
The commander nodded solemnly. "We'll remember."
With that, Caleb's coffin was sealed and loaded away, destined for a quarantine lab deep in the station's bowels.
The remaining Odyssey crew were then guided aboard the station in groups, to temporary quarters and medical checks. The Odyssey itself was to be deep-cleaned, every molecule scoured for lingering contamination. Reed insisted on being the last to disembark, after all his people had gone. Captain Voss only left when two junior crew practically dragged her to sickbay for proper treatment.
Nova was one of the last to leave as well. She stood at the airlock entry, looking back down the empty corridor of her ship. In the silence, she almost fancied she heard footsteps or whispering – but it was just memory, she told herself. Just memory.
She followed Commander Reed through the airlock, leaving the Odyssey behind in eerie quiet.
Hours later, the Odyssey slept: powered down, lights dimmed, a lifeless hulk for the sanitization drones to work upon. In the medlab, a lone drone whirred, spraying disinfectant mist over every surface, chirping as it detected biological residues to eliminate.
In the corner, a floor grate made a faint metallic scrape. Something viscous and black oozed through the narrow slits and onto the floor – perhaps drawn by the moisture of the disinfectant. The drone rolled by, sensors oblivious to the microscopic tendrils that probed from the goo, tasting the air.
The black substance pooled, then slithered inch by inch along the baseboard, finding a dark crevice under a cabinet to nestle into. Only a few flecks – all that remained of the Halcyon organism outside of Caleb's body – but enough.
It would stay hidden for now, dormant and patient as it had before. The danger was passed, the voices quiet – the prey had gone. But somewhere in that alien consciousness flickered images drawn from Caleb's fading mind: a station full of new hosts, a whole world beyond it.
For now, it merely survived. But soon... Yes, soon it would find a way.
In the vacated halls of the Odyssey, the disinfectant drone chirped and moved on, oblivious. Behind the cabinet, unseen and alive, a tiny tendril curled in anticipation.