Whispers Turn Wild

Posted on Mon Jun 2nd, 2025 @ 8:06am by Avalon [ADMIN NPC] & Zyrani

Mission: Season 6: Echoes of the Zynari
Location: USS Elysium – Multiple Decks
Timeline: MD 5 | 0230 – 1930 Hours
460 words - 0.9 OF Standard Post Measure

It started with laughter. Glitter, singing replicators, light-hearted holograms and misplaced boots. A whimsical dance of harmless mischief. The Zynari—ethereal pranksters of light and mist—had graced the Elysium with their invisible performances for days now. They had brought smiles, confusion, a few shrieks… but nothing serious.

Until now.

At 0230 hours, Ensign Dolen, a Gamma Shift technician assigned to Deck 9, floated into his corridor. Not metaphorically—literally. Gravity had failed without warning in a six-meter stretch of corridor. Caught mid-step with a steaming cup of synth-caf in hand, he hit the ceiling with a startled shout, the beverage flying in an elegant arc behind him. When gravity returned twenty seconds later, he landed with a wet thump, caf-soaked and sore.

He reported to Sickbay with bruised ribs and a scalded wrist. It wasn’t life-threatening, but it was the first time one of the Zynari’s antics had drawn blood.

Elsewhere on the ship, subtle but concerning patterns emerged.

Life support systems dipped momentarily in Decks 17, 21, and parts of Engineering. Just seconds of lowered oxygen levels—barely enough to cause harm—but enough to send several crew gasping for breath and trigger backup environmental scrubbing. A Bolian nurse in Sickbay fainted mid-step. By the time readings stabilized, she was already in recovery.
In the armory, a previously locked phaser emitter panel flickered, twitched—and fired.

A harmless bolt struck a stool near the storage racks. No one was hurt, but Lieutenant Blackford ducked instinctively, heart pounding. The weapon had been on stun… but why had it activated at all?

Avalon flagged it immediately.

By mid-afternoon, the bridge crew reviewed twelve minor incidents—grav lifts behaving erratically, a jefferies tube that looped spatially back onto itself, and a small gardening drone in hydroponics that began pelting its caretaker with nutrient pellets.

The laughter was dying down.

Commodore Phoenix Lalor-Richardson reviewed Avalon’s report in the Ready Room, brow furrowed as she read. There had been pranks before—humorous, even disarming—but this was something else. The subtle increase in risk was no accident.

The Zynari didn’t understand harm in the same way Starfleet officers did. To them, it was a grand game.

To Phoenix, it was a warning.

“The tapestry is unraveling,” she said aloud, setting the PADD down. “And they keep pulling the thread.”

By 1900 hours, Engineering had isolated three more anomalies—temporary environmental disconnections caused by fluctuating power frequencies. One junior engineer described it as “the ship sneezing.”

Humorous.

If it weren’t so dangerous.

Senior staff were called in for a scheduled review on Mission Day 6. As they prepared for the meeting, one question lingered on everyone’s lips:

"How much longer until someone doesn’t walk away?"

The ship’s laughter was becoming uneasy.

OFF