Star Trek TNG: The Next Gamer

by Steatoda

Q already walked the Continuum's road everywhere, so this time decided to introduce someone new during the Farpoint mission. Tyson is Isekai'd by the trickster, gifted with a Gamer system, and left on the bridge of the Enterprise. OC/Semi-SI. Lemons. Gamer. Jumpchain. LitRPG. Solo-RP. TNG/ENT/Star Wars

28. 6 - Haven

Star Trek: The Next Gamer
Episode 6: Haven

Stardate: 41294
Earth Standard Date: April 17, 2364
Location: U.S.S Enterprise-D, Beta Cassius System

"Computer, begin log entry. So, the debrief after returning from Star Wars wasn't nearly as painful as I thought it would be, thanks to my perk. Out of Nowhere activated when I returned. Noone seemed to care that I disappeared for an extended period, nor that T'Pol was gone either. When I docked the Scimitar in the shuttlebay, I wasn't even asked about its obviously non-Federation design. During the debriefing, I informed the senior staff that I had received more companion gems, but Picard was unphased. One of the upsides of being an Ensign is that I outrank any non-commissioned people on the Enterprise. Technically, anyone who isn't an officer has to follow my orders, so Picard trusts me with their oversight. The Captain just told me to keep my people in line, ensure they don't interfere with ship operations, and abide by the rules. It seemed the ability to summon people out of thin air isn't novel any longer. The Enterprise is in orbit of Haven and the crew has been granted shore leave. We're heading to the surface to investigate claims of the planet's healing properties. "

The Gamer paused for a beat before continuing, "I haven't brought out any of the companions I acquired during the excursion to the Star Wars Universe, except Visas Marr. I won't be bringing out the other companions until after I investigate the new Instant Dungeon, Korriban. I'm particularly not looking forward to the confrontation with those two Jedi Masters the council sent after me. I promised I wouldn't lie or deceive them, that I'd cooperate after we caught Lore, and instead ended up bringing them to another universe. It was Q's fault really, not mine, but I doubt they'd understand."

Tyson sighed, "Dealing with them is going to be a headache. Plus the list of things I need to do keeps growing. I have to dive into Sith Alchemy, investigate the zombie ID to see if my mirror self was right about the timeline continuing, work on improving my armor, investigate the viability of using hyperdrive in this universe, test the effectiveness of the Scimitar's cloak versus Federation sensors, and a bunch of other things. It's like there's never enough time to get what I need done before some other crisis pops up. Regardless of the long list, all-in-all I think I'm doing all right. I have access to the Force, and I'm far stronger now than I was before Q sent me on that excursion. I'll get to all the stuff on my list, but for now, I'm going to relax for a day or two. Computer, end log."

~~Star Trek: TNG~~

The doors to the transporter room hissed open, revealing Tyson, T'Pol, and Visas Marr stepping through just as Chief O'Brien was preparing the transporter controls. The timing of their entrance couldn't have been more precise, it happened to coincide with some of the senior officers receiving a transport. Tyson's group moved to the side, taking their place in the background as they observed the unfolding events.

O'Brien activated the transporter, and a beam of light materialized a small, ornately decorated box on the pad. Intrigued, everyone in the transporter room stared at the mysterious object. Riker was first to break the silence, asking, "What is that?" He approached the box cautiously, eyeing the strange markings and intricate carvings. Just as Riker reached out to touch the box, the eerie face carved into it suddenly began to speak, its voice both mechanical and organic. "Greetings. I hold a message for Deanna Troi. Lwaxana Troi and the honorable Miller family will soon arrive. The momentous day is close at hand. Rejoice."

"What's going on?" Riker asked as the box burst open and scattered gems and coins all over the transporter pad.

The horror was evident on Troi's face, and Tyson could feel it radiating from her. The absolute dread of what was coming, "They're bonding gifts. What you would call wedding presents."

The commander asked, "Who's getting married?"

Troi responded solemnly, "I am."

Tyson, T'Pol, and Visas exchanged glances, a sense of unease creeping over them at the unexpected turn of events. Riker was slightly taken aback as he processed Deanna's response. He looked to Tyson, expecting some reaction. He knew that a few weeks prior, the new addition to the crew had been spending lots of time with Troi, but the Ensign's next words left him even more confused, "Commander, requesting permission to beam to the surface. We're going to investigate rumors of this planet's innate healing properties and enjoy some shore leave. The Captain previously approved my request."

Riker, dumbfounded, looked between Tyson and Troi. He wasn't sure how much of a connection they shared, but the rumors around the ship placed them on several dates. But if the new Ensign wasn't interested in her ordeal, he wouldn't hold the man from enjoying his approved shore leave. Riker simply nodded his assent.

Tyson walked up to the mess of a treasure on the teleporter pad. The Gamer produced an empty box from thin air, touched the treasure making it disappear, and moments later it reappeared within the box. Tyson's group then stepped onto the pad. He turned to Troi and said, "Congratulations Counselor." before signaling to O'Brien that he was ready to head to the surface.

The shimmering transporter beam deposited Tyson, T'Pol, and Visas Marr onto the surface of Haven. The breathtaking beauty of the landscape immediately captivated their attention. Lush greenery surrounded them, while the soothing sound of a nearby waterfall filled the air. It was a paradise in every sense of the word.

T'Pol, however, seemed distracted, her gaze distant and unfocused. Tyson, concerned for his Vulcan companion, asked, "T'Pol, is everything alright?"

Her eyes met his, and she hesitated before responding. "I am merely contemplating the recent news regarding Counselor Troi's upcoming marriage. I find it curious that you did not display any outward emotional reaction to the announcement."

Tyson sighed, taking in the beauty of Haven he gestures to his ears. "I'm Vulcan too and I'm perfectly capable of controlling my emotions, T'Pol," he said with a hint of a smile. "But, to be honest, I'm not sure how to feel about it. Troi made it clear that she didn't want our relationship to be romantic, and I'm going to respect that."

Visas Marr, standing a few feet away, turned her attention to the conversation. "The Counselor's situation is just another step on her journey. Throughout life, our paths intertwine and diverge. For a time, it may have seemed that your paths combined and headed in the same direction, but then they split. She may find solace in her marriage, just as we have found solace in our companionship. One day you might reconnect and she may find herself back on our path, force willing."

T'Pol nodded thoughtfully, "Indeed. I apologize if my inquiry was intrusive. We should proceed with our investigation of the planet and the reported healing properties of its environment."

Tyson agreed, and the trio set out to explore Haven further, each of them silently reflecting on their thoughts and feelings about the unfolding events back on the Enterprise. The beauty of the planet and the mysteries it held provided a welcome distraction.

The group found themselves in the breathtaking Harmony Plaza. As they took their first steps on Haven's soil, the atmosphere enveloped them like a warm embrace. The air, filled with the fragrant scent of exotic blossoms, tickled their senses, and the soft sound of water flowing from nearby fountains provided a soothing melody. The trio gazed in awe at the scene before them. The plaza was a masterful blend of architecture and nature, where meticulously designed walkways meandered between verdant gardens and elegant stone structures. Majestic trees stretched their limbs overhead, their leaves dancing playfully in the gentle breeze. In the center of the plaza, a massive fountain spouted crystal-clear water, catching the sun's rays and casting shimmering rainbows across the cobblestones.

As they walked deeper into the plaza, T'Pol's Vulcan stoicism seemed to soften ever so slightly, her eyes widening in appreciation of the serene beauty around them. Visas Marr tilted her head as if taking in the harmonious energy of the place through her Force Sight. Tyson couldn't help but smile, feeling the tranquility of Harmony Plaza seeping into his very being.

Couples and families strolled along the paths, their laughter and gentle chatter adding to the plaza's vibrant ambiance. Street vendors offered fragrant teas and fresh fruit, while artisans displayed their intricate sculptures and paintings.

Tyson, T'Pol, and Visas Marr moved through the plaza, each absorbing the tranquil energy in their own way. T'Pol pulled out her tricorder and approached Tyson. "The unique flora of Haven may hold valuable insights into the planet's purported healing properties. I believe it would be beneficial for us to analyze them."

Tyson nodded in agreement and reached out for the tricorder T'Pol handed him. As he took the device, he noticed her touch lingered slightly longer than necessary, an uncharacteristic sign of her growing feelings for him. T'Pol stood close to Tyson as she began instructing him on the correct settings and scanning techniques. "With the tricorder, you can identify the specific compounds and properties that may contribute to the plant's potential healing effects. Adjust the sensor array to focus on the organic matter and use a fine-resolution scan to examine the cellular structure,"

Under T'Pol's guidance, Tyson aimed the tricorder at a nearby cluster of vibrant, purple flowers. The petals seemed to shimmer in the sunlight, their delicate edges adorned with tiny crystalline structures that sparkled like gems. The tricorder hummed as it collected data, the display filling with intricate charts and graphs.

Visas Marr stood a few steps away as she used her Force Sight to perceive the life energy emanating from the flora around them. Though she could not see the physical beauty of the flowers, she could sense their vitality and harmony with the environment.

As Tyson finished scanning the flowers, T'Pol looked over the data on the tricorder's display. "Fascinating," she remarked, her brow furrowing slightly. "These plants contain a complex array of bioluminescent proteins and regenerative enzymes. It is possible that these compounds may interact with the local environment to create the reported healing effects."

Tyson couldn't help but smile at T'Pol's enthusiasm, even if it was carefully hidden behind her Vulcan stoicism.

Skill Unlocked!
Life Science (level 1) - A skill representing the scientific study of living things, from the smallest organisms to the largest biological systems. This skill includes knowledge of bioengineering, biology, botany, ecology, genetics, xenobiology, zoology, and other fields of biological science.

Visas Marr approached Tyson and T'Pol as they finished scanning the vibrant, purple flowers. Her voice was gentle but confident as she shared her observations. "These flowers," she began, gesturing towards the shimmering petals, "give off a stronger sense of life in the Force than the others surrounding them. Their energy is more vibrant and harmonious."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow, her skepticism evident. Though she respected Visas, the concept of the Force was difficult for her to reconcile with her Vulcan logic. However, she was willing to entertain the notion. She recognized Tyson's interest in the blind woman and had no desire to ostracize her.

Tyson could sense T'Pol's reticence and added, "Perhaps we can use her Force senses in conjunction with the tricorder to further our understanding of these unique properties."

T'Pol considered Tyson's proposal with a thoughtful expression. "Very well," she finally conceded. "Visas, if you can guide us toward other plants that exhibit a similar energy signature, we can analyze their properties and compare them to our current data."

Visas nodded and began to slowly walk through the plaza, her senses attuned to the life energy of the flora. Tyson and T'Pol followed closely behind, tricorder at the ready. As they moved through the lush garden, Visas paused before a tall, twisting tree with silvery leaves that seemed to dance in the wind. "This tree," she said, her voice soft and reverent, "shares the same vibrant energy as the flowers we examined earlier."

T'Pol aimed the tricorder at the tree, scanning its leaves and bark. She raised her eyebrow at the findings. The data revealed a similar composition of bioluminescent proteins and regenerative enzymes. "Fascinating," T'Pol murmured, her curiosity piqued. "It appears that Visas's intuition was correct. These plants do share common properties."

Life Science skill increased! (3)

Tyson, T'Pol, and Visas spent two hours meticulously evaluating the flora within the harmony plaza, with Visas guiding them through the life energy she sensed and T'Pol instructing Tyson on the proper scanning techniques. Together, they discovered and collected samples from a fascinating variety of unique plants. As the sun began to lower in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue over the city of Solacium, Tyson decided it was time to unwind and relax.

Solacium was a breathtaking city, its streets lined with vibrant, flowering trees and shimmering waterways that reflected the colors of the sky. Elegant buildings with gleaming white facades and sweeping, organic architecture seemed to embrace the landscape, giving the impression that the city had grown from the very earth itself.

Tyson couldn't help but compare Solacium to Theed on Naboo. The architecture was equally beautiful, but while Theed seemed to be a monument to the prosperity of Naboo, Solacium was in greater harmony with the natural beauty of Haven.

As they approached the hot springs, the group was greeted by the sight of a series of terraced pools, each steaming with geothermally heated water. The pools were surrounded by lush, emerald-green moss and cascading waterfalls that fed into the steaming basins. The air was fragrant with the scent of mineral-rich water and exotic flowers, adding to the overall sense of relaxation and rejuvenation.

The Gamer was eager to make the most of their time on Haven. He splurged on the best accommodations he could find on short notice. He led T'Pol and Visas Marr through the cobblestone streets of Solacium, seeking out the most luxurious inn the city had to offer. They arrived at the 'Eternal Embrace' a grandiose inn known for its exquisite architecture, romantic atmosphere, and relaxing hot springs.

Tyson confidently approached the front desk. With a charming smile, he requested their finest room – one with a private hot spring. The innkeeper, a middle-aged woman with a knowing glint in her eyes, handed Tyson a beautifully crafted key. "You'll find the Starlight Suite on the top floor," she said, her voice warm and inviting. "I hope your stay with us will be memorable."

Following her directions, the trio ascended a grand, spiral staircase adorned with intricate carvings of entwined vines and blossoms. The scent of aromatic candles and fresh flowers filled the air as they reached the top floor and unlocked the door to the Starlight Suite. The suite was truly breathtaking, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of the city's twinkling skyline. Delicate, silken draperies billowed gently in the evening breeze, casting dancing shadows upon the polished marble floors. In the center of the room stood a king-sized bed, draped in sumptuous linens and piled high with plush, velvety pillows. But the pièce de résistance was the suite's private hot spring, nestled within an enclosed garden terrace. The crystal-clear water glimmered beneath the moonlight, surrounded by fragrant blooms and verdant foliage.

"Don't get too comfortable just yet," Tyson teased, as he headed towards the en-suite kitchen, "I'm going to whip up something special for us."

Intrigued, T'Pol raised a single eyebrow in her signature Vulcan manner, while Visas offered a sly smile. They watched as Tyson set to work, his confident hands deftly slicing, dicing, and sautéing an array of fresh ingredients. The enticing aroma of seared vegetables and spices filled the air, drawing the women closer to the kitchen.

As Tyson cooked, he regaled them with the tale of how he ended up on Tatooine. Visas didn't know of anything before the encounter with Maul in the desert. When he reached the part where 'Darth Binks' stepped in bantha shit, his infectious laughter filled the room and it wasn't long before Visas found herself laughing along with him. Though T'Pol didn't laugh aloud, Tyson could sense a hint of mirth from her.

With the meal complete, Tyson expertly plated their dinner and uncorked a bottle of fine wine, pouring generous amounts into elegant glasses. The trio carried their feast to the suite's balcony, where they settled into plush cushions beneath a canopy of stars.

As they savored each bite and sip, the conversation flowed effortlessly between them. The wine, combined with the intoxicating atmosphere of Haven, heightened their senses and loosened their inhibitions. T'Pols stoicism and Visas's reservation gave way as flirtatious banter grew bolder, and the chemistry between them crackled like the suite's fireplace.

Tyson reached over to tuck a stray lock of hair behind T'Pol's ear, the simple touch sending a shiver down her spine. Meanwhile, Visas leaned in close, her breath warm against Tyson's neck as she whispered a teasing remark into his ear. Their laughter and the clink of their wine glasses echoed into the night.

The private hot spring beckoned to them, its steamy water promising relaxation and a chance to explore their burgeoning connection further. As they stepped into the secluded area, the women exchanged a knowing glance. With the moonlight casting a soft glow on their faces, they slowly began to undress, peeling away the layers that separated them from the inviting water.

T'Pol moved with her usual Vulcan grace, her movements were measured and deliberate. She revealed her toned body, which seemed to be crafted from porcelain, and Tyson couldn't help but marvel at the flawless curves of her form. The fire in her eyes hinted at the simmering passion that lay beneath her stoic exterior.

Visas caught Tyson's gaze as she began to undress. She moved with an air of practiced seduction, her body language conveying her sultry confidence. The moonlight accentuated her toned, curvaceous figure, making it appear as if she were carved from the same porcelain as T'Pol, but by an artist who favored a more full-bodied example of femininity. She gracefully removed her outer garments, revealing a hint of the matching lingerie set beneath. The delicate fabric clung to her body, accentuating the curve of her hips and the enticing swell of her bosom. The intricate design of her ornate blindfold echoed the elegant patterns that adorned her bra and panties. As Visas slid the last of her robe down her legs, her exposed skin seemed to glow in the soft moonlight. Her body was a perfect balance of strength and sensuality, her toned muscles promising both power and finesse.

Visas stepped into the hot spring, her body disappearing beneath the surface of the water, leaving only her alluring blindfold and the hint of a smile visible above the steamy surface. Her veil shielded her eyes but did little to conceal the allure of her full lips and the curve of her cheekbones. The sight of her, coupled with the undeniable chemistry between them, sent a shiver of anticipation down Tyson's spine.

The Gamer couldn't tear his eyes away from the captivating scene unfolding before him, his heart pounding with anticipation. He swiftly stored his outer garments and joined the women in the water. As they settled into the soothing embrace of the hot spring, the steam seemed to weave a spell around them, drawing them closer together.

Tyson reached out to gently touch T'Pol's shoulder, feeling the smoothness of her skin beneath his fingertips. At the same time, Visas's hand found its way to Tyson's leg, her touch as tender as it was thrilling.

T'Pol, who had been sitting by the edge of the hot spring, suddenly cleared her throat. The atmosphere, which had been thick with sensuality and desire, shifted abruptly as T'Pol began to speak. Her voice, usually calm and measured, was tinged with a hint of inebriation from the wine they had shared earlier. "Tyson," she began, her fingers absently tracing the rim of her wine glass, "I'd like to bring it to your attention that we have not addressed the nature of our relationship. We briefly spoke about it on Coruscant and, I believe it is only prudent that we discuss our current situation."

She paused, her brow furrowing as she gathered her thoughts. "Our bond is strong, and I value the connection we share. However, I understand that you may have different needs and desires than I do. I have been considering the concept of an open relationship or perhaps including other women in our partnership." T'Pol's cheeks, already flushed from the heat of the hot spring, deepened in color as she continued, "My research has shown that such arrangements can be beneficial for all parties involved, provided that there is open communication and a mutual understanding."

She took a deep breath, the alcohol lending her openness she might not have had otherwise. "I want you to know that I am open to exploring these possibilities with you, Tyson. While my emotional capacity may be different from yours, I value our relationship and want to ensure that we both have the opportunity to grow and learn from our experiences."

As T'Pol finished her impassioned speech, the previous tension in the air was replaced by a new, uncertain energy. Tyson hesitated, unsure of how to respond to T'Pol's unexpected drunken outburst.

But before he had the opportunity to finish gathering his thoughts, T'Pol took matters into her own hands. She stood gracefully and, with a fluid motion, removed her remaining clothing. She dropped her undergarments on the stones lining the hot spring, revealing her toned and alluring body. The air seemed to grow hotter, and Tyson couldn't help but feel a mixture of surprise and excitement. T'Pol then reached out and gently took Visas by the arm, pulling her close to Tyson. The two women stood before him, their bodies inches apart, creating an undeniably sensual tableau. Tyson's breath caught in his throat as T'Pol leaned in and pressed her lips to his, her eyes locked onto him as if challenging him to accept the situation.

The kiss was both tender and passionate, sending a jolt of electricity through Tyson's body. He could feel his heart racing as the tension between the trio seemed to build with each passing moment. T'Pol slowly broke the kiss with Tyson, leaving a lingering warmth on his lips. Her eyes were intense, a smoldering mix of desire and Vulcan stoicism. With a sultry smile, she reached out and cupped Visas's cheek, guiding her towards Tyson. He could feel the heat radiating off their bodies as they closed the distance, and anticipation knotted in his stomach.

Visas, wearing an expression of trust and curiosity, allowed herself to be led. As her lips met Tyson's, he was struck by the contrast between her kiss and T'Pol's. It was softer, almost hesitant at first, but soon deepened with a growing passion. As their kisses continued, Tyson could feel the world around him fade away, leaving only the three of them and the undeniable connection that was forming between them.

T'Pol stood back for a moment, watching Tyson and Visas with a mix of curiosity and desire. Her gaze never left them, as if she was taking in every detail of the scene before her. The intensity of her stare only served to stoke the fire that burned within Tyson, heightening his senses and amplifying the electric charge that pulsed through the trio. As the kiss between Tyson and Visas finally broke, T'Pol stepped forward once more, her arms encircling them both. The three of them stood together in the steamy embrace, their bodies slick with moisture and pressed against one another.

T'Pol released her embrace, her eyes shining with a mischievous glint that seemed almost out of place for her normally composed demeanor. She reached for Tyson and Visas's hands, intertwining her fingers with theirs, and guided them out of the hot spring.

Steam rose from their bodies as they followed T'Pol's lead, leaving a trail of damp footprints on the smooth stone floor. The anticipation in the air was palpable, a heady mix of desire and uncertainty that seemed to make the world around them pulse with energy. Tyson took in every moment, trying to commit every step to memory. T'Pol's lithe naked form as she lead them out of the hot springs, and Visas's soaked bra and panties that perfectly matched her veil, clinging to her shape which was a perfect mix of feminine softness and athletic warrior.

As they reached the edge of the luxurious bed, T'Pol released their hands and turned to face them both. Her eyes met theirs in turn, a silent question hanging in the air. Tyson felt his heart race in his chest, and he knew that whatever happened next, it would be a moment he would never forget.

T'Pol stepped closer to them, her body brushing against theirs as she pressed a tender kiss to each of their lips in turn. The sensation sent shivers down Tyson's spine, and he could feel Visas tremble beside him. A wicked smile played on the Vulcan's lips. With surprising strength, she grabbed Visas and pushed her back onto the bed, the Miraluka letting out a surprised gasp. Visas's body sprawled out on the plush linens, her chest rising and falling with anticipation. T'Pol turned to Tyson and placed a firm hand on his chest, stopping him in his tracks. He looked at her, a mix of confusion and desire in his eyes. Her eyes narrowed, and her voice was low and commanding. "Wait, Tyson. Watch."

Her slender fingers traced a line down Tyson's chest, teasing him with her touch before she turned away from him. With deliberate, sensual movements, she crawled across the bed toward Visas, who lay there with bated breath, waiting for T'Pol's approach. Tyson, held back by T'Pol's command, watched with a mixture of fascination and longing. He could feel the heat rising in his body, and his heart pounded in his chest as T'Pol reached Visas and straddled her hips.

T'Pol leaned down, her lips hovering just above Visas's. She whispered, "Submit to me, Visas. Let me take control." Her voice was sultry and commanding, the words sending a shiver down Visas's spine.

Visas nodded, her breath catching in her throat as T'Pol claimed her lips in a passionate kiss. T'Pol's hands roamed over Visas's body, exploring her curves and seeking out the sensitive spots that made her gasp and moan with pleasure.

Tyson watched, his body aching with desire, as T'Pol took charge of the situation. The sight of T'Pol dominating Visas, the gentle submission of the Miraluka beneath her, was both exhilarating and maddening. T'Pol raised Visas to her feet, kissing the Miraluka as she deftly unclasped her bra. The Vulcan tossed the undergarment to the floor but stood in a position that blocked Tyson's view of Visas's magnificent globes. T'Pol peeled off the other woman's still-damp panties, which quickly landed next to the discarded bra. She finally stepped to the side leaving Visas on full display. The Miriluka's pink nipples stood at attention from the Vulcan's ministrations. Tyson's soldier also stood at attention from the magnificent sight before him.

As the tension in the room continued to rise, T'Pol lowered Visas down with a firm yet gentle grip. Her Vulcan strength held the blind woman's chest to the bed. Visas was left with her ass raised enticingly. She wiggled, more in anticipation than in resistance. T'Pol's eyes locked with Tyson's, conveying her intentions. "Join us, Tyson," T'Pol commanded, her voice steady and authoritative. Visas, now in a submissive position, looked back at Tyson with anticipation on her lips.

Tyson hesitated. Feeling the heat of the moment, briefly overwhelmed by Visas's vulnerable position and the intensity of T'Pol's gaze. Through the Force Bond Visas felt everything Tyson did, and spoke to him, "There is no shame in vulnerability, Tyson. Let go of your reservations. The Force has brought us together for a reason. Let us embrace the connection it has granted us. Allow the bonds between us to guide you."

He took a step forward, joining them on the bed and fully accepting the invitation. T'Pol, once again placed her hand on his chest, stopping his approach just as he reached them. She grabbed his manhood. With one hand still holding Visas to the mattress, she used the other to guide Tyson inside the waiting Miraluka.

Visas gasped as Tyson explored places none ever had. The young Miriluka had never been with a man. She was a teenager when her previous master erased all life from her home planet. For reasons beyond her understanding, the Sith Lord spared her and trained her as his apprentice. But, he was more a force of nature than a man and had no interest in matters of the flesh. And so, until this moment she was untouched.

Tyson was gentle, sensing Visas's inexperience. His strokes were shallow, slowly going deeper with each thrust. The discomfort of his hardness pressing into her was soon replaced with pleasure and the sensation of fullness. T'Pol controlled the pace of Tyson's strokes, adjusting his speed based on Visas's moans and her own experiences with the man. But she never allowed Tyson to cease. Even after Visas reached her peak, her respite was only as brief as the time it took T'Pol to roll the Miraluka onto her back. T'Pol quickly guided Tyson back in while Visas was still shaking from her orgasm. She spread Visas's knees, allowing Tyson's full length inside, and forced Tyson close to Visas. T'Pol made him grind into the blind woman, his hips only pulling back a few inches before thrusting deep again. The sensation of his head rubbing against her deep inner ridges quickly set off a second orgasm.

In this new position, Tyson was finally able to kiss Visas. He attacked her mouth hungrily, and she responded greedily. Their lips entwined as he finally released inside her.

They continued to explore their boundaries, each person bringing something unique to the experience. T'Pol maintained her dominant role, guiding the actions and ensuring everyone felt respected and fulfilled, while Visas embraced her submissive nature, allowing herself to be led by T'Pol's firm hand.

Perform skill increased! (22)

As they lay there, entwined together and exploring one another, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the three of them and the unbreakable bond they were forging at that moment. The intensity of their connection was overwhelming, and they surrendered themselves to the exquisite pleasure of the night, an experience that would forever be etched in their hearts.

Hidden Quest Complete!
Roddenberry's Universe V - You demonstrated that love can be seen, even without the use of one's eyes. Reward:
+1 Social skill
+1 Perform skill

Perk Acquired!
Cultic Beginnings
You had sex with someone completely devoted to you. What would a zealot be without their religion or cause to further and spread? This perk allows you to craft a religion of your own and gather followers. You'll be able to choose three domains to center your new religion around. And to give you a leg up when spreading this religion, you and your followers gain two minor abilities.
Companion Channeling: Your Companions, with a positive reputation, can use your abilities, powers, or skills. When they do so, whatever they use is locked to you until the end of the encounter.
Answer Prayer: Once per day, you gain the ability to instantly teleport to one of your followers; you can return to your initial position at will.

Increased Reputation with Visas Marr (Kindly, 3/5)

Perk Activated: Force Vergence
Your Companion, T'Pol, has gained the Force Sensitivity trait. Allowing her to call on The Force and learn to draw on its powers. She gains the Use the Force skill.

~~Star Trek: TNG~~

Tyson walked alongside T'Pol and Visas Marr as they made their way back to the transport site. He couldn't help but feel a sense of wholeness after their time on Haven. As they trekked through the beautiful cityscape, Tyson decided to take a moment to review his system options.

He brought up his status screen, focusing on the Cultic Beginnings perk that had caught his eye earlier. As a Cultist, he had the unique ability to choose three religious domains based on his skills and achievements. He was curious to see what options were available to him now.

His interface displayed a list of possible domains, each glowing with a faint, otherworldly light. They were as diverse as the universe itself, and Tyson was fascinated by the potential power each one held. Some were broad, but others were oddly specific.

"Technological Healing," he read aloud, intrigued by the possibility of augmenting his healing abilities. The description stated that it would grant healing items he created enhanced healing powers, along with a bonus to heal various ailments through the power of technology for his followers.

"Force," another option caught his eye. This domain was more general and granted a minor boon to his followers' ability to harness the power of the Force more effectively, increasing control and mastery over the mystical energy. As well as improving his ability as a Force Vergence to spread Force Sensitivity to his followers.

"Mystical Technology," Tyson continued, raising an eyebrow at the interesting combination. Choosing this domain would enable him to recreate any of his mystical abilities with technology, allowing him to share devices with his followers that would mimic powers like the Force or any other supernatural abilities he had access to.

He scrolled through several other domains, each offering its own set of unique abilities and powers. The more specific the domain, the greater the benefits. His unlock list was extensive, ranging from wine, growth, and lust to war, concealment, feast, and gambling. As he considered his options, T'Pol, and Visas exchanged curious glances, wondering what was occupying his attention so intently.

"Is everything all right, Tyson?" T'Pol inquired, her Vulcan curiosity piqued.

"Just reviewing some system options," Tyson replied, looking up from his interface with a grin. "I'll share the details later. For now, let's focus on getting back to the Enterprise."

Choosing domains was a major decision that he wouldn't rush.

~~Star Trek: TNG~~

The senior staff members of the Enterprise assembled in the observation lounge, their faces reflecting concern as they reviewed the information about the approaching Tarellian vessel.

Commander Riker spoke up, "The fact that it's traveling at its present velocity suggests a possible answer."

"A damaged vessel, sir. That could explain it," added Geordi LaForge, his eyes hidden behind his visor, yet his voice filled with the implications of Riker's proposal.

Riker nodded in agreement. "If it were unable to reach warp speed, it would have taken all these years to reach Haven."

Captain Picard encouraged Data to continue, "Go on with your briefing, Mister Data."

Data, his voice devoid of emotion, began to explain. "Tarella was class M, much like your Earth, with similar humanoid life forms. Unfortunately, they faced the old story of hatred outpowering intelligence."

Picard furrowed his brow, inquiring, "There were hostilities?"

Data nodded. "Between the inhabitants of their two land masses, resulting in one group unleashing a deadly biological weapon on the other."

Dr. Crusher chimed in, her voice tinged with sadness. "And in the end, the other became infected as well. Makes one question the sanity of humanoid forms."

Picard looked at her, asking, "Can you identify the origin of the infection, Doctor?"

Crusher sighed. "The Tarellians had reached Earth's late twentieth-century level of knowledge. That's all you need if you're a damned fool. A deadly, infectious virus which at that modest level of knowledge is not difficult to grow."

Tasha Yar added, "We learned the rest of the story in security training. Some Tarellians made it to other worlds, only to die along with the populations they infected."

LaForge nodded. "It's pretty well covered in Academy training now, Captain. Many of them tried to avoid other civilized worlds as they escaped only to be hunted down and destroyed anyway."

Picard's expression grew grave. "And it was believed that the last Tarellian vessel was destroyed eight years ago by the Alcyones."

"Yes, sir," confirmed LaForge.

Picard turned to Data. "Exactly when will they reach Haven?"

Data replied with his usual precision, "Exactly thirteen hours, nine minutes, twenty-two seconds, three hundred fifty…"

"Thank you," Picard interrupted, not needing the exact figure. He continued, "Which creates a very difficult problem for the Enterprise. Our treaty requires us to protect Haven, and Federation policy requires that we assist life forms in need, which must include the Tarellians. I'll want you all to help me find some answers. Thank you."

Picard's shifted to a lighter, more jovial tone, "However, there will be ample time for your second assignment, voluntary of course. The pre-joining announcement of Counselor Deanna Troi."

Riker stood and exited the room as Picard added, "And Wyatt Miller."

The Captain finally addressed Tyson, who'd yet to speak. "Ensign I have a request of you. In the past, you worked a miracle in finding a solution to the Tsilokovsky infection. I'd greatly appreciate it if after the reception you'd be willing to work with Dr. Crusher on the Tarellian plague. It's been studied exhaustingly, but any small insight might be helpful."

"Of course, Captain."

~~Star Trek: TNG~~

The atmosphere was tense with anticipation inside one of the Enterprise's lounges. Tyson noted that 10-Forward wasn't open at this point, he'd checked. 13-Forward was almost an exact replica, but most of the crew didn't spend time on Deck 13. Thinking of Deck 13, reminded Tyson he'd need to stop by Cetacean Ops again soon. So, the gathering for Troi's wedding announcement happened in one of the Enterprise's many other prepared diplomatic lounges.

Victoria, Wyatt's mother, a woman of composure and grace, addressed Captain Picard. "We've talked it over, Captain and the ceremony will be tomorrow if you agree. And Captain, would it be possible for you to perform the ceremony?"

Picard, caught off guard by the request, responded with cautious optimism. "Well, yes, of course, if all parties request it."

Lwaxana, a formidable Betazoid woman, and Deanna Troi's mother bristled at the idea. "All parties do not request it. It's simply out of the question. I'm sorry, Captain, but unfortunately, you are not practiced in the ways of Betazed joining."

"No, that's quite true," Picard conceded, sensing the tension in the air.

"Therefore, you are totally unqualified," Lwaxana continued with a dismissive tone.

Victoria stood her ground. "He is qualified to lead a traditional Earth ceremony, which is what this will be."

Lwaxana scoffed at the idea, her voice dripping with disdain. "I thought you had no sense of humor. Earth wedding? Ridiculous!"

"My family and I are living on Earth now," Victoria retorted, undeterred.

Lwaxana feigned pity, shaking her head. "So, that's why you want that backward ritual. Terrible, Captain, to see a woman go downhill like this."

Deanna, unable to contain herself, shouted, "Mother!"

"Downhill?" Victoria repeated incredulously, offended by the woman's uncalled-for accusation.

Tyson stood off to the side near the replicator. The Gamer was adding garnishes to the plates and making slight modifications to the hors d'oeuvres as they were being created, just enough that his Cooking skill activated, enhancing the taste of the food.

He couldn't help but interject, "I vote for the Betazed-style ceremony."

Lwaxana pointed at the tall, pointy-eared man and exclaimed, "See he gets it!"

Data, ever the inquisitive android, asked, "Curious. Tyson, why do you prefer the traditional Betazed ceremony when you're originally from Earth?"

The Gamer grinned mischievously, the glint in his eyes betraying his playful intentions. "Because in the Betazed wedding, we'll all be naked."

"Ah," Data responded, his expression unchanging, though a hint of comprehension flickered behind his synthetic eyes. The rest of the gathered guests looked decidedly uncomfortable at the revelation.

Tasha Yar was slightly amused. She rolled her eyes as she said, "Leave it to you, Tyson, to think of the naked aspect."

He shrugged and replied, "It's not a big deal."

"Maybe not for you." quipped Crusher.

Tyson quickly fired back, "Nothing you haven't seen before, doc." Leaving the woman blushing, her face flushing crimson to match her hair.

"She's the doctor, she's seen most of us naked," Yar added in Crusher's defense.

T'Pol, in her typical Vulcan manner, commented, "Considering the frequency with which I have encountered Tyson unclothed, I believe I have become adequately familiar with the sight."

Visas followed in a soft voice, "Though I cannot see as others do, the Force has allowed me to perceive Tyson's presence in its entirety, including times when he has been without garments."

Of those gathered, few had an understanding of what the Force was. But they all got the gist of her meaning.

Yar squeaked out, "Both of you have seen him naked too?"

T'Pol, ever the logical Vulcan, suggested, "It is only logical to assume that, given the nature of their relationship, Counselor Troi has also seen Tyson in an unclothed state."

The room was silent after T'Pol's blunt statement.

Data cocked his head to the side, and curiously inquired, "Interesting. Does the viewing of unclothed crew members often contribute to improving interpersonal relations and crew efficiency?"

LaForge couldn't help laughing at the android's blunt question. Causing him to spit out his drink. Riker had enough of the ridiculous reception. He left with some excuse to consider the Tarellian situation.

Tyson answered the android with a chuckle, "Interpersonal relations, yes. Efficiency, probably not."

Tasha mumbled, "How am I the only one left out?"

Tyson's Vulcan hearing picked up on the blonde's question and simply answered "Bro Code."

LaForge had to ask, "What's Bro Code?"

Data, after a brief pause, reported, "Accessing… The 'Bro Code' appears to be a colloquial term used to describe the expectations and obligations that governed friendships between human males. 'Bro code' is often characterized by loyalty, trust, and mutual support. The concept has largely faded from popular usage, but it remains an interesting aspect of human social behavior." The android inquired, "Curious, Tyson, how does that apply in this situation? "

Tasha blanched, eager to change the subject. She said with a reassuring, but forced smile, "Data, some things are best left for private conversations. I'll give you the details later, okay?"

Lwaxana, clearly enjoying the conversation, declared, "The matter is settled. Mister Homn will conduct the joining in a Betazed ceremony."

Steven, Wyatt's father, pointed out with concern, "But Homn can't even talk!"

The air crackled with tension as Lwaxana responded, her voice dripping with disdain, "No matter, he is highly adept in the acts of sign language. The matter is closed."

Victoria bristled, her gaze locked on Lwaxana as she demanded, "Who are you to tell us what we should do?"

Lwaxana's eyes sparkled with a touch of malice as she replied, "Your ignorance is astonishing. I am Lwaxana Troi. Daughter of The Fifth House, Holder of the Sacred Chalice of Rixx, Heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed." Her tone was challenging as she asked, "Who are you?"

Tyson playfully commented, "I'd like to handle her Sacred Chalice of Rixx."

He took in Lwaxan's form and wondered how much the Hello Nurse! perk had affected her. Though she was Deanna's mother, at first glance, one might mistake Lwaxana for an older sister, such was her aura of timeless beauty and graceful vitality. He took in her figure, all sensuous curves, with an hourglass silhouette. The billowing, multilayered, silver dress she wore draped over her figure with an easy grace, enhancing her natural beauty without overshadowing it. Her face, while bearing the elegant signs of maturity, held the soft, timeless beauty that was mirrored in her daughter Deanna. Her dark, luxuriant hair fell in cascading waves around her shoulders. Lwaxana was a reminder that age was just a number and that grace, confidence, and allure could outshine the passage of time.

Lwaxana feigns shock, "My, my, such a bold request! Unfortunately, the Sacred Chalice of Rixx is not currently on display."

"That's too bad. I hold a treasure as well and I'll be bringing it to the ceremony. I'm the keeper of The Fabled Staff of Fantasies. And with a Betazed-style wedding, it will most certainly be on display."

Geordi, Crusher, and Yar barked out in laughter. Captain Picard, feeling the weight of his responsibility to keep the peace, stepped in. "That's quite enough." He whispered low enough only Tyson would hear, before addressing the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, it is a Starfleet tradition that at social gatherings, disputes are not permitted. I hereby declare therefore all disagreements resolved."

As the group sat around the table for the meal, Picard took the opportunity to raise his glass. "A toast. To the young couple and their families."

The room filled with a chorus of "hear, hear," and cheers as glasses clinked and tension eased, if only for a moment.

As the laughter and clinking glasses continued in the background, Tyson decided he'd had enough of the party and slipped away from the group. As he strode down the hallway, he heard the soft patter of footsteps behind him. Turning, he found himself face to face with Troi, her usually serene visage marred by a hint of uncertainty. "Tyson, I wanted to talk to you. Why haven't you said anything about my marriage?"

He sighed, rubbing his hand behind his neck before answering. "Deanna, you made it clear that you didn't want anything romantic between us, and I respect that." He tried to be as non-judgmental as possible with his next statement, "But I'm having difficulty respecting that you're just going along with this tradition without standing up for yourself, or thinking about what you want in all of this."

Troi looked taken aback, her dark eyes searching his face for a moment. Then, with a touch of defiance, she replied, "It's not that simple, Tyson. There are family expectations and obligations to consider."

Tyson shook his head, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Deanna, you're a successful independent woman, a Lieutenant Commander in Starfleet. Why let tradition hold you back from pursuing your own goals and throwing away your career? I've seen you offer advice in high-stakes crises and diplomatic negotiations, but now you're shying away from confronting your feelings?" The Gamer paused for a beat, "Not saying I haven't done some hypocritical shit, and I admit I've been aimless since I got dragged into the future. But, addressing feelings is pretty much your job."

Troi hesitated, her fingers nervously playing with the edge of her dress. Tyson could see her wrestling with her thoughts, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for her.

He had one last thing he needed to get out, "Look, all I'm saying is, don't be afraid to question what's expected of you. You deserve a chance to choose your path, even if it means going against tradition," he said gently.

Troi smiled, touched by his words. "Thank you, Tyson. I'll think about what you've said."

With a final nod, she turned and continued down the hallway, leaving Tyson alone with his thoughts. As he watched her go, he couldn't help but wonder if he had changed anything.

His Vulcan hearing picked up her next words, and he couldn't deny they stung a little. "Computer, locate Commander Riker."

~~Star Trek: TNG~~

The doors to sickbay hissed open as Tyson stepped inside, the sterile scent of the medical facility filling his nostrils. He was sure that they must have some high-tech way of cleaning the area, like laser sweeps or something. But the faint familiar scent of a medical facility lingered in the air.

The tension in the room was palpable, as Dr. Beverly Crusher and her team of medical professionals buzzed around, studying the data related to the Tarellian plague. As Tyson approached, Crusher looked up from her work, her blue eyes filled with a mixture of concern and determination. "Tyson, I'm glad you're here. I need to brief you on the Tarellian plague and the potential threat it poses to the inhabitants of Haven."

Tyson nodded, his expression serious. "I'm ready to learn, Doctor."

Crusher gestured for Tyson to follow her to a nearby display, where an intricate representation of the Tarellian virus floated. She tapped a few controls, and the image began to rotate, revealing the complexity of the pathogen. "The Tarellian plague is a highly virulent and deadly virus that wiped out nearly the entire Tarellian population," she began, "It's spread through airborne transmission, making it incredibly contagious. The virus targets the respiratory system, causing severe pneumonia and ultimately leading to organ failure."

Tyson swallowed hard, the gravity of the situation sinking in. "What are our options, Doctor? Can we develop a vaccine or a cure?"

Crusher shook her head, "Unfortunately, the Tarellian virus is highly adaptable and resistant to all known treatments. We've been working around the clock to find a solution, but so far, we haven't had any success. Federation scientists encountered the Tarellians over a century ago, and never developed a solution."

Frowning, Tyson thought for a moment. "Let's take a step back, doctor. I know this may sound counterintuitive, but my abilities work best when I'm being instructed. So can you start with the basics? Go through basic virology and genetics, and similar. My skills will advance that way and I can work to find a more practical solution to our current situation."

Dr. Crusher led Tyson to a corner of the sickbay where a small workstation was set up. The hum of the machinery and the beeping of various monitors filled the air as Crusher prepared to teach Tyson the basics of virology. Teaching entry-level biology was below her station, but the greatest minds in the Federation hadn't come up with a cure for the Tarellian virus. If teaching the basics to a time-displaced man would lead to a solution, she'd do her part. Plus, she was reticent to admit it, but she didn't mind spending time with Tyson.

"Before we dive into the specifics of the Tarellian virus, it's important to understand the fundamental principles of virology," Crusher began, her voice both authoritative and patient. "Viruses are tiny infectious agents that exist at the borderline between living and non-living organisms. They're composed of genetic material, either DNA or RNA, surrounded by a protective protein coat called a capsid."

Tyson listened intently, his eyes locked on the holographic model of a virus that hovered above the workstation. Crusher manipulated the controls, enlarging the model and highlighting specific structures as she continued her lesson. "Unlike bacteria or other microorganisms, viruses can't reproduce on their own. They need to infect a host cell to replicate," she explained. "Once inside the host cell, the virus hijacks the cell's machinery to create new copies of itself. These new virus particles can then be released to infect other cells and continue the cycle."

Tyson's eyes widened as he absorbed the information. "So, the virus essentially turns our own cells against us?"

Crusher nodded. "Exactly. And that's what makes treating viral infections so challenging. We need to find a way to disrupt the virus's ability to replicate without harming our own cells."

She tapped a few buttons, and the holographic model morphed into a representation of the Tarellian virus. "Now that you have a basic understanding of virology, we can discuss the unique characteristics of the Tarellian virus and why it's proven so difficult to treat."

As Crusher delved into the intricacies of the Tarellian virus, Tyson's mind raced with thoughts of potential treatment strategies and the urgent need to find a solution.

The clock ticked away as Dr. Crusher and Tyson delved deeper into the complex world of virology, biology, and pathogenesis. Sickbay had transformed into a makeshift classroom, with holographic models of various viruses and bacteria hovering in the air, accompanied by diagrams of cell structures and intricate molecular pathways. Dr. Crusher guided Tyson through the intricate details of host-pathogen interactions, cellular processes, and the body's immune response to infections. She meticulously explained how various pathogens, including the Tarellian virus, exploited weaknesses in the body's defense mechanisms and evolved to evade detection and destruction. As the hours rolled by, Tyson's understanding grew exponentially. He grasped the importance of the various components that made up the immune system – the white blood cells, antibodies, and the complex signaling pathways that coordinated the body's response to invading pathogens.

Together, they discussed various approaches to combating viral infections, from antiviral medications to vaccines, and even experimental therapies like gene editing and nanotechnology. The more Tyson learned, the more he became aware of the delicate balance that existed within the body and the numerous factors that could tip the scales in favor of the pathogen.

Dr. Crusher's teaching style was both engaging and demanding. She encouraged Tyson to think critically, challenge conventional wisdom, and consider novel approaches to solving the problem at hand. As the tenth hour approached, both their minds were buzzing with ideas and possibilities, fueled by a relentless determination to find a solution to the Tarellian virus. Throughout the long hours of intense study, Tyson couldn't help but be in awe of Dr. Crusher's vast knowledge and dedication to her profession. He realized the immense responsibility that medical professionals like her shouldered, and the countless lives that were impacted by their decisions and discoveries.

As they finally took a break, both physically and mentally exhausted, Tyson knew that he had gained not just a wealth of knowledge, but also a newfound appreciation for the challenges and triumphs of the medical field. With this new understanding, he felt more prepared than ever to face the daunting task of finding a way to combat the Tarellian plague. With grim satisfaction, he realized that he just completed a grinding session with Doctor Crusher. He wasn't killing mobs and earning loot, but it was a grind nonetheless.

Life Science skill increased! (19)

Despite the hours of study and his growing understanding of the Tarellian plague, Tyson had to reluctantly admit that his skill level wasn't yet high enough to create a cure. Frustrated but determined, he turned to Dr. Crusher to brainstorm alternative solutions. He was eager to apply his newfound knowledge and consider every possible angle. If his Life Science skill wasn't up to the task, perhaps he could lean into one of his other, higher skills. The best suggestion he could come up with was to utilize the transporter's bio-filter, an integral part of the transporter system that screened and removed any harmful substances, including pathogens, from a person's body during the transport process. Tyson wondered if the bio-filter could be modified to target the virus responsible for the Tarellian plague, effectively purging it from an infected individual's system.

Dr. Crusher considered the idea carefully, her eyes narrowing in thought. "The bio-filter has been used in the past to remove pathogens, but the Tarellian virus is particularly resilient and adaptive. It might be a challenge to isolate and eliminate the virus without causing harm to the patient."

Tyson nodded, understanding the complexity of the situation. "But if we could find a way to target the virus specifically, without harming the host's cells, we might have a chance."

Dr. Crusher agreed, her determination renewed. "It's worth exploring. We'll need to analyze the virus's genetic structure and identify any unique markers that could be used to distinguish it from the host's cells. We'll also need to examine the transporter's bio-filter in detail and determine if it can be fine-tuned to target those markers."

Together, Tyson and Dr. Crusher threw themselves into the task, poring over data and running simulations. They collaborated closely, bouncing ideas off each other and refining their approach as they encountered new challenges and made new discoveries.

"We're hitting a wall because we can't isolate the virus that is currently replicating within the host cells. If we remove all traces within the body, but the remnants are left to continue reproducing, we'll never clear the hosts completely of the virus. What if we targeted all the infected cells, even the ones in the early stages?"

Crusher paused for a moment, considering Tyson's suggestion thoughtfully. "You're right, Tyson. We need to address the virus at every stage of its life cycle, not just when it's outside the host cells. Targeting the infected cells, even those in the early stages of infection could help us prevent the virus from continuing to reproduce and spreading throughout the host's body."

She furrowed her brow, weighing the potential risks and benefits of the approach. "However, if we target all the infected cells indiscriminately, we might also cause significant damage to the patient's healthy tissues, leading to potentially life-threatening complications. We need to find a way to differentiate between infected cells in various stages and healthy cells so that we can target the virus without harming the host."

Tyson nodded, understanding the delicate balance they needed to strike. "It's a challenge, but if we can find a specific marker or characteristic that's unique to the infected cells, we might be able to target them more selectively."

Dr. Crusher agreed, her eyes lighting up. "That's a promising avenue to explore. Let's go back to the data and see if we can identify any unique patterns or signatures in the infected cells. We'll also need to investigate if the transporter's bio-filter can be modified to selectively target those markers without harming the healthy cells."

Working side by side, Tyson and Dr. Crusher dove back into their research. As the hours ticked by, their shared enthusiasm and determination were palpable, infusing the sickbay with a sense of urgency and purpose. They knew that time was of the essence, and that the people of Haven – and potentially countless others – were depending on their ability to find a solution to the Tarellian plague.

With each step forward, Tyson felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders, but he also felt a growing sense of hope. He knew that, together with Dr. Crusher, they had a fighting chance of overcoming the seemingly insurmountable challenge before them.

~~Star Trek: TNG~~

Doctor Crusher tapped her communicator. "Crusher to Captain Picard, could you please come to Sickbay? It's urgent."

A moment later, Picard's voice responded, "On my way, Doctor."

The doors to Sickbay swished open as Captain Picard briskly entered. He looked around and saw Tyson and Doctor Crusher standing next to a holographic display, the air charged with a mix of excitement and concern.

"What's the situation, Doctor?" the Captain asked, glancing at Tyson and then back at Crusher.

Doctor Crusher took a deep breath before explaining, "Captain, Tyson and I have been working tirelessly to develop a potential treatment for the Tarellian plague. We've come up with a complex, multi-stage process that has shown promising results in our simulations."

Picard's eyebrows rose, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "That's excellent news. But from your tone, I'm assuming there's an issue?"

"Well, sir, there are two main problems we're facing," Crusher replied, her expression turning serious. "Firstly, our treatment is untested on actual patients. We've only been able to simulate its effects using computer models, which, while promising, aren't the same as real-life applications."

Tyson chimed in, "And secondly, Captain, the treatment can't be delivered remotely. We would either need to bring an infected Tarellian aboard the Enterprise, or send someone capable of administering the treatment to their ship."

Picard's face darkened as he considered the potential risks. "I see. That certainly complicates matters."

"Yes, it does," Crusher agreed. "But we believe this treatment has the best chance of success. We just need your permission to proceed."

Captain Picard's expression hardened as he considered the risks involved in Crusher and Tyson's proposal. He glanced at the two of them, his voice firm as he delivered his decision. "I'm sorry, Doctor, Tyson, but I cannot authorize this course of action. The safety of the Enterprise crew is my primary responsibility, and I cannot knowingly put them in harm's way."

Crusher's face fell, and she pressed, "But Captain, this may be the only chance we have to save the Tarellians."

Picard shook his head. "I understand the gravity of the situation, Doctor, but we cannot endanger our crew. And as for sending someone to the Tarellian ship, it would be a potential suicide mission. I am not willing to ask any member of this crew to take on such a risk."

Tyson's eyes narrowed with frustration, but he knew that the Captain's decision was final. "Understood, sir," he said.

Doctor Crusher sighed, "Very well, Captain. We'll continue our research and try to find another solution."

Captain Picard nodded his face a mix of regret and determination. "Please do, Doctor. I trust that you and Tyson will exhaust every possibility."

Crusher exchanged a disheartened look with Tyson, prompting him to speak up. "Captain, wait a moment please?" Tyson asked, his tone both respectful and determined.

Picard eyed Tyson with a mix of curiosity and concern. "Very well, Ensign. What is it you want to discuss?"

Tyson took a deep breath and began, "Captain, I understand your reasons for denying the treatment proposal for the Tarellian plague, but I ask you to reconsider. I'm willing to volunteer for the mission."

Crusher's eyes widened in surprise. "Tyson, are you sure? This could be extremely dangerous, and you know the risks involved."

He nodded, his expression resolute. "I know, but we can't just stand by and do nothing. If there's a chance that we can save these people, I want to take it. I've faced plenty of dangers before, and I trust in my ability to withstand the plague long enough to administer the treatment."

Seeing the determination in Tyson's eyes, Crusher hesitated for a moment before responding. "I appreciate your willingness, Tyson, but I can't send you on this mission without the Captain's approval."

"Captain. I understand the risks and have considered them carefully. If we don't act, these people will die. If there's a chance that we can save them, I believe we have a moral obligation to try. If we do nothing, it will mean the extinction of a sentient species."

Captain Picard studied Tyson's face, gauging his determination and sincerity. After a long moment, he finally spoke. "I will allow you to undertake this mission. However, I want you to be equipped with the necessary protective gear and precautions, and I will inform the crew to prepare for any potential fallout."

"Thank you, Captain. I appreciate your trust and won't let you down," Tyson replied, relief and gratitude evident in his voice.

With the Captain's approval, Tyson and Doctor Crusher proceeded to work together on refining the treatment and preparing for the high-stakes mission. As Tyson and Doctor Crusher were deep in their preparations, a sudden announcement from the bridge interrupted their work. The voice of Commander Riker came over the comm system, his tone was urgent and concerned.

"Captain Picard, Doctor Crusher, Counselor Troi, and Tyson to the bridge immediately."

The trio exchanged worried glances before quickly making their way to the bridge. Upon arrival, they found the senior staff gathered around the main viewscreen, which displayed an image of the Tarellian vessel.

Commander Riker turned to them, his expression grave. "We have a situation," he said. "Wyatt Miller has just transported himself onto the Tarellian vessel without permission."

Captain Picard's face grew taut with concern. "Why on Earth would he do that?"

Doctor Crusher shook her head, her eyes wide with worry. "I don't know, but we need to get him back immediately. If he's exposed to the Tarellian plague, it could be fatal."

Counselor Troi approached the senior staff with a revelation. "Captain, there's something you should know," she began hesitantly. "Wyatt told me about a woman he's been seeing in his dreams since he was a child. He had sketches and renderings of this dream woman all throughout his quarters. The woman from Wyatt's dreams, the one he's been seeing, is on the Tarellian ship."

The crew exchanged surprised glances. Captain Picard furrowed his brow. "Are you certain, Counselor?"

Troi nodded. "Yes, I saw her when we opened communications with them. She is undoubtedly the reason Wyatt went over there."

Tyson's jaw clenched. "We can't waste any time. I'm ready to go over there and help treat the Tarellians. If we're successful, we may be able to save Wyatt as well."

Captain Picard nodded his agreement. "Very well, Tyson. Coordinate with Doctor Crusher and prepare for immediate transport. We'll maintain a transporter lock on you and Wyatt, and bring you back the moment it's safe to do so."

Tyson gathered everything he'd need with the captain fast-tracking approval on a myriad of items. He stood on the transporter pad after saying goodbye to his companions when Deanna entered the room. Troi approached Tyson, her eyes filled with concern. "Tyson, I need to talk to you," she said softly, taking his arm and guiding him to a more private corner of the room. "I know you want to help the Tarellians, and I understand that. But you don't have to risk your life for them. There must be another way."

Tyson looked into her eyes, his resolve unwavering. "Deanna, I appreciate your concern, but I can't just stand by and do nothing. If there's a chance we can help them, I have to take it. I'm not just doing this for Wyatt or the Tarellians; I'm doing it for all of us. The Enterprise is about exploration and helping those in need, and that's what I'm going to do."

Troi hesitated for a moment, her expression uncertain. "Tyson," she said softly, "I have to ask. Are you doing this for me? Helping the Tarellians and Wyatt, I mean."

Tyson gave her a gentle, reassuring smile. "Deanna, I'm doing this because it's the right thing to do. Of course, I care about you, and I know this situation affects you deeply, but I also believe in the values of the Federation and Starfleet. We're here to help those in need, and that's what I intend to do."

Troi's eyes glistened with tears as she realized she couldn't sway him. She pulled him into a tight embrace, whispering, "Just promise me you'll be back."

Tyson hugged her back, his voice soft but firm. "I promise I'll be back." A grin settled on his face, "I have to do this, otherwise I'll miss your triumphant moment of character development where you stand up to your mom and Wyatt's parents and declare the wedding is off… Then come and join my burgeoning harem of beauties."

Troi playfully swatted Tyson's chest, her eyes still glistening with tears, dancing with amusement. "Oh, you're incorrigible! A harem? Really, Tyson? Well, that's certainly an ambitious plan. But maybe we should work on the character development part first. But fine, I'll consider your offer - on the condition that you return safe and sound. Deal?"

"Deal! Your fate has been sealed, Deanna Troi! No take-backs." Tyson exclaimed before stepping on the transporter pad.

His companions weren't nearly as concerned as the Enterprise crew. They were privy to his Nonliving trait which granted him immunity from diseases. The Gamer conveniently forgot to mention the nuances of the trait to anyone outside of his small circle.

~~Star Trek: TNG~~

The transporter beam deposited Tyson onto the decrepit Tarellian vessel. The dim lighting flickered occasionally, casting eerie shadows against the rusting bulkheads. As he took in his surroundings, he caught sight of Wyatt, haggard and weary, standing amid a small group of eight Tarellians who looked slightly emaciated, but healthy all things considered. Their hollow eyes reflected the weight of their plight. These last few remaining Tarellians were infected with their people's deadly disease, but asymptomatic. Carriers of a curse that killed all they came in contact with, but did not affect them otherwise.

"I'm Tyson," he announced, his voice echoing through the somber stillness. "I'm here to help."

Wyatt glanced at him, his face betraying a mixture of relief and surprise. "I didn't expect anyone else to come," he admitted. As Tyson approached Wyatt, he noticed the man's complexion had grown paler, his skin clammy to the touch. There was a hint of a tremble in Wyatt's hands, and a sheen of sweat had formed on his brow.

"You're showing signs of the disease," Tyson observed, concern lacing his words.

Wyatt tried to brush off Tyson's observation with a weak smile. "It was bound to happen. I came here knowing the risks."

Tyson didn't feel like chastising the man would be helpful, but he couldn't deny that coming to the Tarellian vessel was an idiotic move. Wyatt had medical knowledge, but what could he have hoped to accomplish with no supplies, no plan, and on an aged ship?
Tyson surveyed the vessel, his heart sinking as he took in the outdated technology that surrounded them. It was at least a century behind the Enterprise-D, the remnants of a civilization that had once thrived but was now on the brink of extinction. There were no replicators to provide sustenance which explained the Tarellians' emaciated appearance. As Geordi and Riker expected the warp engine lay dormant.

As he moved through the ship, Tyson couldn't shake the oppressive feeling of doom that seemed to permeate every inch of the vessel. It was as if the ship itself was grieving, mourning the loss of a once-great people now reduced to a handful of desperate survivors.

Tyson made his way to the Tarellian vessel's transporter room, hoping the technology would be of use in administering the treatment he and Dr. Crush had developed. However, he was met with disappointment. The transporters were in a state of complete disarray, the technology outdated and barely functional. It was apparent that they wouldn't be of any use in their current condition.

Realizing that he needed to change tactics, Tyson quickly came up with an alternative plan. He'd need a workspace, the teleporter room was as good a place as any he'd seen yet on the ship. It was spacious and it drew its power directly from the fusion reactor. Federation ships used matter-anti-matter reactors to power their warp drives, but the Tarellians never reached that level of technology. Fusion reactors were rare power sources on warp-capable vessels, the one on the Tarellian ship was what gave it the unique look, its large central sphere. To power a warp drive, the fusion reactor was massive, nearly a quarter of the ship's entire mass. While the warp drive itself was offline, the fusion reactor was still providing power to the ship; more than enough to work with given the drive wasn't functional.

Tyson withdrew HALO and a portable biobed from his Inventory. He would have to rely on one of his portable biobeds to analyze the virus and monitor the progress of the treatment. Though not an ideal solution, it was the best option available under the circumstances. He had HALO establish a communication link to Dr. Crusher on the Enterprise. He knew that, despite his progress, his skills were not yet at the level needed to execute the treatment plan. He needed Dr. Crusher's guidance and expertise to continue learning as he worked on the task at hand.

"Dr. Crusher, I've evaluated the Tarellian vessel. I'm going to have to use the portable biobed as expected. I still need your help. I need to continue our lessons while I work so that I can reach the level of expertise required to administer the treatment."

Dr. Crusher's concerned hologram appeared thanks to HALO's advanced projector. "Understood, Tyson. I'll do everything I can to help you. We'll need to focus on advanced virology and immunology while you're working. When you're ready to begin the treatment I'll guide you through the process and make sure you have all the necessary knowledge to complete the task."

Tyson got to work on setting up the portable biobed. He carefully calibrated the device, making sure it was ready to analyze the Tarellian virus and provide the necessary data for administering the treatment. Wyatt, now pale and visibly weakened by the virus, looked on with a mixture of hope and fear. Despite the grim atmosphere, Tyson focused on the task at hand.

With the portable biobed finally operational, and patched into the teleporter room's EPS system, he moved on to the next problem, the teleporter themselves. Tyson carefully examined the dilapidated transporter pads and consoles, quickly concluding that the entire system needed a complete overhaul. The outdated technology and extensive damage made it clear that simple repairs would not suffice. Fortunately, Tyson had anticipated this possibility and had come prepared with a collection of spare parts from the Enterprise. Captain Picard had insisted on providing Tyson with everything he might need, understanding the gravity of the situation and the importance of helping the Tarellians. Tyson got to work on rebuilding the transporter system. He meticulously replaced outdated components, installed modern circuitry, and reconfigured the system to function with the advanced technology from the Enterprise.

With Dr. Crusher's remote guidance, Tyson dove headfirst into the complicated world of advanced medicine. As he worked tirelessly on the Tarellian vessel, he absorbed the lessons Dr. Crusher provided, taking every opportunity to expand his knowledge and hone his skills. With HALO's holographic projector, it was like the doctor was in the room with him, and his Apt-Pupil perk responded in kind. Together, they tackled the challenging subject matter, discussing theories, treatments, and potential complications. Dr. Crusher proved to be an invaluable mentor, offering encouragement and advice every step of the way.

As the hours passed, Tyson's understanding of the complex medical concepts deepened. He became increasingly confident in his ability to execute the treatment plan, all while simultaneously working on the ship's systems. Unfortunately, the progress Tyson made seemed to be sapping the life from Wyatt, his condition worsening visibly with each passing hour.

Life Science skill increased! (29)

~~Star Trek: TNG~~

T'Pol entered Troi's office, her face composed and her voice steady. "Counselor, I must speak with you about Tyson's decision to go to the Tarellian vessel."

Troi looked up from her desk, her eyes reflecting concern. "T'Pol, what is it? Is something wrong?"

T'Pol continued. "I sensed deception when Tyson claimed he was going to help the Tarellians purely for altruistic reasons. Our bond informed me that he was motivated primarily by his feelings for you."

Troi's eyes widened in surprise, her heart suddenly felt heavy. "I... I didn't realize." but she thought about what she sensed from Tyson before he transported away, "His determination was strong enough to mask his other emotions."

The Vulcan woman maintained her demeanor but allowed a hint of empathy to show in her eyes. "I understand that human emotions can be complex and unpredictable. However, I believe it is important for you to recognize the impact your actions and decisions may have on others."

Troi lowered her gaze. T'Pol was blunt, but Troi had to acknowledge the truth in her words. "You're right. I need to talk to him, to let him know that he doesn't have to risk his life for me."

T'Pol shook her head, her expression softening just a fraction. "I thought you should be aware of the situation. It is ultimately Tyson's decision to make, but understanding his motivations may help you navigate this difficult time."

T'Pol regarded Troi with her characteristic stoicism, yet her eyes held a glint of wry amusement. "Counselor, I hope that I have given you some insight into the working of Tyson's mind. Let his actions serve as a reminder that you must continue working to hone your craft and on your personal character development."

Troi looked at T'Pol, puzzled by the Vulcan's unexpected remark. "Of course, T'Pol. I always strive to grow and learn."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow, the corners of her mouth nearly threatening to curl into a smirk. "Indeed. I was present in the transporter room when Tyson invited you to join him. As the first to join with him, I am the one responsible for vetting new applicants, I shall be expecting your resume and a formal application."

Troi blinked in surprise, unsure if she was hearing T'Pol correctly. "I'm sorry, did you just... are you joking, T'Pol?"

The Vulcan maintained her composure but allowed the faintest hint of a smile to touch her lips.

"Counselor, during my time spent with humans I learned how important it is to occasionally engage in lightheartedness and humor, even in trying times."

Troi couldn't help but chuckle at the unexpected turn of events. "Well, T'Pol, I'll make sure to have my application ready for your review, then."

T'Pol inclined her head in acknowledgment. "I look forward to it, Counselor." With that, T'Pol excused herself, leaving Troi to contemplate the weight of her newfound knowledge. As she sat there, Troi realized just how much Tyson meant to her and the lengths he was willing to go to for her sake. And as the door slid closed behind T'Pol, Troi made a silent vow to confront not only Tyson but also her feelings in the process.

~~Star Trek: TNG~~

Tyson hurried to complete the setup of the biobed and transporter. The sounds of labored breathing filled the air, a constant reminder of the race against time. Wyatt's condition had rapidly deteriorated, his body succumbing to the Tarellian plague. His skin was slick with sweat, and his face twisted in pain as he fought for each breath.

Tyson knew he could not afford to wait any longer. It was now or never. Dr. Crusher's holographic presence guided him through the intricacies of the treatment procedure.

Tarellian Plague Skill Challenge
(Extreme Difficulty - DC:50 - 4 Stages)
Life Science {Virology} - Analyze the Tarellian Plague virus to identify its unique properties, structure, and behavior within host cells. Success provides vital information for developing a targeted treatment.
Medicine {Pathology} - Determine the most efficient and effective way to remove or neutralize the infected cells without causing irreparable damage to the host's tissues and organs. Success improves the patient's chances of recovery.
Engineering {Transporter} - Modify the transporter's bio-filter to help target and remove the infected cells, while leaving the healthy cells intact. Success would provide a method for treating the Tarellian Plague.
Computers {Programming} - Carefully program the transporter to administer the treatment to the patient, ensuring that the transporter is only targeting the programmed cell markers and infected cells. Success ensures a full recovery for the patient.

With a deep breath, Tyson initiated the first phase of the treatment. The biobed hummed to life as it began its work, analyzing the patient's condition. Identifying the unique structures of the Tarellian plague, and adjusting for any mutations in Wyatt's infection compared to the one they'd prepared for.

Life Science Check Success!

Tyson watched as the biobed went to work, meticulously examining Wyatt's infection and comparing it to the projections they had made based on simulations. The advanced technology scanned his entire body, detecting each infected cell and logging their locations.
As the biobed continued its examination, a detailed holographic display appeared above Wyatt, mapping out the areas of infection throughout his body. The glowing red clusters provided a stark visual representation of the virus's spread, a reminder of the insidious nature of the Tarellian plague.

Tyson studied the display closely, noting any discrepancies between the actual infection and their initial projections. They needed to have an accurate understanding of the infection's extent to tailor the treatment plan accordingly.

Dr. Crusher's voice came through the projection, her calm and steady guidance a source of comfort in the grim surroundings. "Tyson, once the biobed has finished recording all the infected cells, we can use that information to devise a more targeted treatment. We'll need to account for any variations in the infection's spread and adjust our approach accordingly."
Tyson nodded, even though she couldn't see him. "Understood, Doctor. I'll send you the data as soon as the biobed completes its scan."

As the biobed continued to compile its findings, Tyson felt a glimmer of hope.

Medicine Check = Major Success!
Medicine Skill Increased! (33)

They now had a comprehensive understanding of Wyatt's infection, and with the data in hand, they could begin the next phase of their plan to eradicate the Tarellian plague once and for all. With the data from the biobed, he set to work configuring the transporter bio-filters to screen for Wyatt's mutated version of the Tarellian plague.

Sweat beaded on his forehead as he tapped away at the control console, adjusting the parameters and carefully calibrating the bio-filters to identify and target the specific strain of the virus afflicting Wyatt. It was a delicate process, and a small mistake could mean the difference between success and failure. Through the hologram, Dr. Crusher provided invaluable guidance, her expertise proving crucial as they navigated this complex procedure. "Remember, Tyson," she cautioned, "be sure to account for any potential mutations in the virus when configuring the bio-filters. We don't want to miss any infected cells."

"I'm on it, Doctor," Tyson replied, his fingers flying across the console as he input the necessary adjustments.

After several tense minutes, Tyson finally completed the configuration, and the transporter bio-filters were ready to screen for Wyatt's mutated strain of the Tarellian plague. With a deep breath, he initiated the process, watching as the console hummed to life.

Engineering Check = Success!

Before initiating the procedure, Tyson released his Oberth-class ship from his Inventory into space between the Tarellian ship and the Enterprise. Using the teleporter, and not removing Wyatt from the ship would be pointless, as he would just be reinfected. Tyson wouldn't risk beaming him directly to the Enterprise, and Picard wouldn't allow it. The Oberth would serve as a buffer, they could ensure the success of the procedure, not risk reinfection, and not risk the crew.

With the transporter bio-filters calibrated and ready, Tyson carefully programmed the transporter to administer the treatment to Wyatt. He meticulously input the necessary commands, ensuring that the transporter would target only the infected cells and their corresponding markers, and then destroy them.

His heart raced as he initiated the sequence, watching intently as the transporter's beam shimmered into existence. Wyatt's body began to dematerialize, and within moments, the infected cells and markers were systematically destroyed by the transporter's precise energy pattern.

As the process continued, Tyson monitored the progress, his eyes locked on the console's display. He could see the virus which had been converted into digital code, being eradicated from Wyatt's system, and hope surged within him. The treatment seemed to be working.

Computers Check = Major Success!
Computers Skill Increased! (37)

Finally, the treatment was complete. The transporter beamed Wyatt to the Oberth, a safe location where he could continue to recover. Tyson allowed himself a brief moment of relief, but he knew that the work was far from over. There were still the other Tarellians to treat, and each one would require the same level of care and precision. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the challenges ahead, and got back to work.

~~Star Trek: TNG~~

Tyson stood in the Tarellian's transporter room, surrounded by an array of medical equipment and research data on the Tarellian plague. With Wyatt treated and off the ship, the need to rush abated, the remaining Tellarians had been living with the disease for years, and a few extra hours would make no difference. So, Tyson spent a few hours creating and installing holoprojectors throughout the room. The displays and equipment, minus his biobed, were holographic. But there was little difference between holographic and actual constructed or replicated equipment. The power draw remained far less than a warp drive and the Tarellian's fusion reactor was up to the task.

Crusher, now on the Oberth, observed Wyatt through a transparent partition. She had been monitoring him closely for several hours, meticulously checking and rechecking her findings. Finally, her holographic avatar reappeared to Tyson, a smile of relief on her face. "Good news," she announced, her voice tinged with a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction. "Wyatt is clear of the Tarellian plague. The treatment we developed seems to have worked."

Tyson, relieved, responded "That's fantastic, Doctor. Now we just need to do the same for the rest of the Tarellians."

Crusher nodded, her expression turning serious. "Yes, but it won't be easy. The virus has had years to adapt and mutate. We'll need to be prepared for any complications that might arise during treatment."

Wyatt's parents, Victoria and Steven Miller, anxiously paced the observation lounge, the tension in the air palpable. Lwaxana and Deanna Troi sat quietly, trying to maintain an air of stoicism despite the weight of the situation. Finally, the door slid open, and Wyatt entered the room, accompanied by Doctor Crusher. A collective sigh of relief spread through the gathered family members as they saw him safe and healthy.

"Your son is in the clear," Crusher announced, offering a reassuring smile. "He's been given a clean bill of health."

Victoria rushed forward to embrace her son, tears streaming down her face. "Oh, Wyatt, thank goodness you're all right."

Lwaxana, not one to be outdone, stepped forward and took Wyatt's hand. "We are grateful for your safe return, Wyatt. And now, we must continue to plan the wedding."

Deanna, who had been silent until now, rose from her seat. Her voice was firm, yet tinged with a hint of sadness. "Actually, Mother, there will be no wedding."

A stunned silence fell over the room, broken only by Lwaxana's indignant gasp. "What are you talking about, Deanna?"

Deanna took a deep breath, steeling herself for the confrontation that was sure to follow. "I've been doing a lot of thinking, and I've come to realize that this marriage isn't what I want. It isn't what any of us truly want. We're all just following tradition, without considering our own desires."

Wyatt nodded in agreement. "Deanna's right. We barely know each other, and we're expected to commit to a lifelong partnership. It doesn't make sense."

As Deanna and Wyatt's words hung in the air, the initial shock began to wear off, replaced by a flurry of emotions from the assembled family members. Victoria turned to Deanna. "How can you just dismiss the importance of tradition like this? Our families were promised to be united by marriage."

Lwaxana chimed in, "Exactly. And who are you to break with that, Deanna? You act as though you're the first person to ever question the wisdom of our ways."

Steven, trying to be the voice of reason, raised his hands in a calming gesture. "Now, hold on, everyone. Perhaps we should take a step back and consider what Deanna and Wyatt are saying. They are the ones getting married, after all."

Deanna glanced at Wyatt, who gave her a nod of encouragement. She took a deep breath before continuing. "Mother, I understand how important tradition is to both of our families. But we must recognize that times have changed. We shouldn't be bound by the past, forced into a life that neither of us truly wants."

Wyatt added, "If we're getting married it should be based on love and understanding, not just the expectations of our families. We need time to figure out who we are as individuals, and what we want for our futures."

Lwaxana's eyes flashed with anger, "So, what? You're just going to throw away tradition because you're unsure of what you want? What kind of message does that send to the rest of our people?"

Deanna held her mother's gaze, her voice unwavering. "It sends the message that we are strong enough to make our own choices and forge our own paths. Isn't that a message worth sending?"

The room was a tempest of emotions – shock, anger, confusion – as the families tried to process the revelation. Amid the chaos, Deanna stood her ground, proud and determined. It was a moment of truth, a declaration of independence from the shackles of tradition. The first step toward forging their paths, and leading the families to begin to come to terms with the decisions.

~~Star Trek: TNG~~

The familiar chirp of the communications system echoed through the Captain's Ready Room, interrupting Captain Picard's contemplative silence. He tapped the console, opening the priority channel from Starfleet Command.

Admiral Jameson's stern face appeared on the screen. "Captain Picard, I have new orders for the Enterprise. You are to proceed immediately to the Persephone System."

Picard's brows furrowed, torn between the needs of the Tarellians and this new crisis. "Admiral, we are currently dealing with a delicate situation involving the Tarellians. We have encountered one of their ships and made significant progress in finding a treatment for their plague, but we need more time to ensure their survival."

Jameson's expression remained resolute. "The Tarellians? They're all supposed to be extinct." The admiral paused for a moment before continuing undeterred, "I understand the difficult position this puts you in, Captain, but we cannot ignore the plight of our people. The situation in the Persephone System is escalating. You have the fastest ship in the area and we need you there as soon as possible."

Picard clenched his jaw, his mind racing. "Admiral, I request a delay in our departure. We have a crew member on the Tarellian vessel working to administer the treatment. Leaving now would strand him there."

The admiral's gaze softened slightly, but his voice remained firm. "I sympathize with your situation, Captain, but I'm afraid I must deny your request for a delay."

Picard closed his eyes briefly, taking a steadying breath. He knew he couldn't disobey a direct order, but that knowledge did nothing to ease the ache in his chest. "Very well, Admiral. We will set course for the Persephone System immediately."

"Thank you, Captain. Godspeed." With that, Admiral Jameson's face disappeared from the screen.

As the weight of the decision settled upon him, Picard left his ready room.

The Captain stepped into sickbay. The staff was all present, gathered to analyze the results of the procedure, and an air of revelry permeated the department. He approached Dr. Crusher, who was intently studying the results of the Tarellian treatment on Wyatt.

"Doctor, I need to establish communication with Tyson on the Tarellian vessel. It's urgent."

Crusher's eyes flickered with concern but she nodded and activated a nearby console. A secure channel was opened, and Tyson's face appeared on the screen.

"Captain, is everything alright?" Tyson asked, seeing the discomfort on Picard's face.

Picard took a deep breath, steeling himself for the difficult conversation ahead. "Tyson, I have received orders from Starfleet Command to proceed immediately to the Persephone System. Unfortunately, we cannot delay our departure."

Tyson's face paled, but he maintained his composure. "I understand, Captain. I'll continue to do everything I can for the Tarellians."

Picard's eyes softened with regret. "I know you will, Tyson. I just wish there was another way."

Tyson took a moment to consider his next words. "Captain, I have a request. My companions, T'Pol and Visas Marr, are currently aboard the Enterprise. If you must leave, I ask that they be allowed to stay on the Oberth to assist me in my efforts."

Picard nodded solemnly, "I will arrange it, Tyson. We will ensure that they remain with the Oberth to support you."

"Thank you, Captain," Tyson said, his voice filled with gratitude and determination. "Once I solve the Tarellian situation I'll rendezvous in the Persephone System. If the treatment takes longer than I anticipate, I'll head directly for Starbase 74. I believe the Enterprise is still due for maintenance."

"Indeed she is. I have no doubt that you will be successful," Picard replied, his voice heavy with the weight of his decision. "Good luck, Ensign."

With that, the communication was closed, leaving Picard to face the painful reality of leaving a crew member behind. And Tyson was without a mentor to assist in treating the remaining Tarellians.

Next, Picard entered the observation lounge, finding the Troi and Miller families sitting in quiet, uneasy contemplation. The mood in the room was somber, a stark contrast to the earlier fervor surrounding the wedding. He cleared his throat, drawing their attention.

"I apologize for the intrusion, but I must inform you of a change in plans," Picard began, the regret laden in his voice easy to hear. "The Enterprise has been ordered to the Persephone System on an urgent mission, and we must depart immediately. Regrettably, this means you will have to leave the Enterprise, and I will no longer be available to officiate the wedding."

A collective murmur of surprise rippled through the room. Deanna Troi rose from her seat and addressed the captain. "Captain, there will be no need for you to officiate," she declared with a steady voice despite the turmoil she was experiencing. "I have decided to stay on the Enterprise. The wedding is canceled."

Her announcement was met with a mix of disappointment and understanding from both families. Lwaxana Troi, however, was not so easily placated. "Deanna, my dear, are you certain?"

Troi took a deep breath, her resolve unwavering. "Mother, I have made my decision. I belong on the Enterprise. This is where I can make a difference, and this is where I'm choosing to stay."

Picard regarded Troi with respect for the difficult choice she had made. The Captain had chosen duty over family many times in the past. He gave her a solemn nod of acknowledgment, then turned back to the families.

"I understand this is a difficult time for everyone," he said gently. "I will ensure that arrangements are made for your safe and swift transport off the Enterprise. Once again, I apologize for the inconvenience, and I wish you all the best."

Just as Picard was about to exit the observation lounge, Deanna's voice called out to him, her concern evident.

"Captain, wait," she said, her eyes filled with worry. "What will happen to Tyson if the Enterprise is leaving? He's still on the Tarellian vessel."

Picard paused, turning back to face her. He could see the concern etched on her face, and he knew she was deeply troubled by Tyson's predicament.

"Ensign Tyson was informed of our impending departure," Picard explained, "He has requested that his companions, T'Pol and Visas Marr, be left on the Oberth. They will remain in contact with him as he continues his efforts to treat the Tarellians."

Deanna's expression displayed her lingering concern. "But what will happen to him once he's completed the treatment? Will we be able to come back for him?"

Picard sighed, the weight of the decision evident on his face. "I cannot make any promises, Counselor. Our orders from Starfleet Command are clear, and we must proceed to the Persephone System without delay. However, I assure you that I will do everything in my power to ensure Tyson's safe return once our mission is complete."

Deanna nodded, swallowing hard as she tried to accept the harsh reality of the situation. "Thank you, Captain," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Picard offered her a compassionate smile, trying to convey his understanding and support. "You're welcome, Counselor. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must attend to our preparations for departure."

With that, Picard exited the observation lounge, leaving the Troi and Miller families to grapple with Deanna's decision as he returned to the bridge to guide the Enterprise toward its next mission.

Deanna Troi's heart raced as she hurried through the corridors of the Enterprise, making her way to the transporter room. She had said her goodbyes to her mother and the Millers, but there was one more person she needed to speak with before the ship left the system. As she entered the transporter room, she found T'Pol standing on the transporter pad with Visas Marr, her Vulcan composure intact despite the tense situation.

"T'Pol," Deanna breathed, her words rushed but sincere. "We don't have much time, but I wanted to tell you that the wedding is off. I also want to wish you and Tyson the best of luck and a safe return."

T'Pol regarded Deanna with her typical stoicism, but there was a hint of understanding in her eyes. "I appreciate your sentiment, Counselor Troi," she replied calmly. "I assure you, we will do everything in our power to ensure our success and return to the Enterprise."

Deanna nodded, grateful for T'Pol's confidence. T'Pol added in her characteristic deadpan tone, "I expect to receive your application promptly upon our return."

Deanna couldn't help but smile at the unexpected humor, and for a moment, the tension lifted. "I'll be sure to have it ready," she replied, playing along.

With that, the transporter chief engaged transport, and the two women disappeared in a shower of particles. Deanna left the transporter room knowing that no matter what happened, she had made the right decision.

~~Star Trek: TNG~~

Tyson was in the makeshift medical bay aboard the Tarellian vessel, checking the last of the medical supplies and preparing for the long, arduous process of treating the remaining patients when the door to the room hissed open. Ariana, the Tarellian woman whose image had haunted Wyatt's dreams, walked in, her gentle steps echoing softly in the otherwise silent room. Her flowing, golden hair cascaded down her back, framing a face that was delicate yet striking. Her high cheekbones and sharp jawline gave her a regal appearance, while her full, rosy lips added a touch of softness. Ariana's eyes were a mesmerizing shade of emerald green, framed by long, dark lashes. Her skin was flawless, with a warm, honeyed tone. Ariana wore a form-fitting jumpsuit in a deep shade of midnight blue that accentuated her curves. The jumpsuit was adorned with intricate, silver embroidery that matched the delicate silver necklace that rested against her collarbone, catching the light and drawing attention to her slender neck.

Ariana smiled warmly at him, as she took a step closer and let her fingers trace a pattern on Tyson's arm. "I just wanted to thank you, Tyson, for everything you've done for us. We've been struggling with this plague for so long, and now we finally have a chance to beat it, thanks to you and your friends."

Tyson chuckled, not shying away from the praise. "Well, you know, it's just what Starfleet does. Scientific exploration, patrol the Romulan Neutral Zone, save alien species from deadly diseases, it's pretty much written in the Federation charter."

Ariana laughed and moved even closer, her gaze locked onto his. "I've been thinking about the connection between Wyatt and myself, and I've come to a realization. I don't think it was about us being destined for each other… The dreams only guided me. The reason for finding him was to lead us to you, or you to us."

Tyson raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "So, you're saying that your dreams were more like... a cosmic call for help?"

Ariana nodded, her lips curling into a sultry smile. "I believe so. And now that you're here, we want to express our gratitude. If you can successfully cure us, my people and I will devote ourselves to you, Tyson. We'll follow you and help you in any way we can."

Feeling a surge of self-assurance, Tyson leaned in, "I promise, I'll do everything in my power to ensure not just the survival of your people, but their future prosperity."

Ariana's hand rested on his chest, her smile deepening. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Ariana sensed that Tyson was eager to return to his work, but let her hand linger on the man. Her eyes shimmering with devious curiosity. "I'm quite interested in how you plan to cure us. Can you explain the process to me?" she asked.

Tyson began to explain, noticing the twinkle in Ariana's eyes. "Well, we've developed a multi-stage treatment that involves targeting the infected cells while preserving the healthy ones. We'll be using the transporters to administer the treatment, but it'll take time because it'll have to be tailored to each of you individually."

As he spoke, Ariana's eyes stayed locked on his. She reached up past the collar of his uniform, her fingers lightly brushing against the skin of his neck. "That sounds amazing, Tyson. You must be very intelligent to have come up with such a solution."

Tyson, fully aware of her flirtatious advances, allowed himself to enjoy the attention. "Well, it was a team effort. Dr. Crusher played a major role in developing the treatment."

Ariana moved even closer, her lips just inches from his ear. "But you're the one who's here, making it all possible," she whispered, her warm breath causing Tyson to close his eyes as it tickled his sensitive Vulcan ears.

He turned his head slightly, bringing his face closer to hers. "I'm glad I could be here to help," he said, his voice low and steady.

Ariana, encouraged by his response, simply smiled at him, a playful glint in her eye. "I just wanted you to know how grateful we are. And if there's ever anything I can do for you, just say the word."

Slowly, Ariana moved her face closer to Tyson's, their lips just a hair's breadth apart. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, and the sweet scent of her perfume filled his senses. Unable to resist the magnetic pull between them, Tyson closed the remaining distance, capturing Ariana's lips in a tender, passionate kiss. Their mouths moved in perfect harmony, the taste of her lips like sweet nectar. As they broke the kiss, their eyes met once more, a silent understanding passing between them. At that moment, Tyson knew that she meant what she said. Their lives had become irrevocably intertwined. The galaxy had discarded, isolated, and hunted the Tarellians, but soon, they would be his people, his responsibility.

Tyson gently brushed his fingers along her chin. "I'll keep that in mind, Ariana. But for now, let me focus on getting everyone treated."

With a final, lingering touch on his arm, Ariana left Tyson to his work, a small, satisfied smile on her lips as she departed. Tyson couldn't deny the way his heart raced at the thought of Ariana's flirtation, and he looked forward to seeing where their newfound connection might lead.

Perk Activated: Power Eater.
Dream Visions: Tarellians are known for their vivid and prophetic dreams, which sometimes reveal important information about the future or distant events. While meditating or sleeping for at least 1 hour, you may receive a vision related to a potential occurrence. The accuracy and relevance of the visions vary.

Treating the Tarellians would be more difficult than treating Wyatt. Without Dr. Crusher's holographic presence, he wasn't getting the Apt-Pupil bonus. Additionally, Tyson had teleporter records of Wyatt when he was healthy to compare to his infected screenings. Tyson had no such records for any of the Tarellians. While their anatomy and physiology were human-like, it wasn't completely human which added another variation he'd have to account for.

Tyson stood over the first patient, a middle-aged Tarellian man. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on his shoulders, knowing the lives of the entire Tarellian population, all eight of them, was at stake. Aware that he needed all the help he could get, he tapped the communicator on his chest, opening a channel to the Oberth. "Tyson to T'Pol. I need your assistance. Without Doctor Crusher, my chances of success have been reduced. I know you aren't a doctor, but your scientific knowledge could help me close the gap. Would you be willing to help me with the treatment process?"

"Understood, Tyson. Stand by," came T'Pol's calm voice through the communicator.

Within seconds, the holographic avatar of T'Pol shimmered into existence next to Tyson. Her eyes quickly scanned the environment, taking in the situation, and then she focused on the task at hand.

"I will guide you through each step of the treatment process to maximize our chances of success," T'Pol stated, her voice steady and confident.

Tyson nodded, grateful for her presence. As they began the complex treatment process, he could feel the synergy between them, their combined knowledge and expertise working in perfect harmony. He could sense that his skills were being bolstered by T'Pol's guidance, Apt-Pupil giving him the edge he needed.

Together, they administered the first stage of the treatment, analyzing the Tarellian man's unique physiology to target the infected cells. As they moved through the next stages, Tyson's hands were steady, guided by T'Pol's watchful gaze and precise instructions. The process was slow and laborious, each step requiring the utmost care and attention. As they completed the final stage of the treatment on the first Tarellian man, Tyson allowed himself a small, hopeful smile. It was too soon to know if they had succeeded, but the Gamer was confident as the Tarellian disappeared within the blue transporter beam. And now, T'Pol would spend several hours observing the man within the Oberth's brig before they continued striving to save the lives of the Tarellian people, one patient at a time.

Life Science skill increased! (30)

T'Pol monitored the situation closely. Her scans revealed that the virus was still reproducing within the patient's body. The patient was immediately transported back to the Tarellian vessel, the Gamer's disappointment and frustration were tangible. T'Pol didn't waste any time, initiating decontamination procedures in the Oberth's brig, ensuring that no trace of the virus was left behind. Meanwhile, Tyson, determined to find the cause of their failure, reviewed their process, searching for any overlooked mistakes. After painstaking analysis, Tyson discovered the source of the problem – an error in the programming of the transporter's bio-filter. The bio-filter had been targeting the wrong cells, allowing the virus to continue its deadly reproduction. Tyson set to work correcting the error, adjusting the bio-filter parameters to accurately target the infected cells. Confident that they had resolved the issue, he and T'Pol prepared for a second attempt at transporting the Tarellian man. With T'Pol's unwavering support, they began the treatment process once more.

The atmosphere on the Tarellian vessel was heavy with anticipation as Tyson and T'Pol prepared for their third attempt at treating the patient. They had painstakingly refined their process, learning from the mistakes of their previous efforts. The minutes seemed to stretch into hours as they watched the report from the biobed. Tyson and T'Pol anxiously awaited the results, their eyes locked on the readouts.

A wave of relief washed over them as they realized that their hard work had finally paid off – the virus was no longer reproducing within the patient's body. The bio-filter had successfully targeted the infected cells, and the treatment had worked. The feeling of accomplishment was gratifying, but they knew that there was still much work to be done. With renewed vigor, they set to work, treating one patient after another. It was a long and exhausting process, but with each successful treatment, they grew more confident in their ability to eradicate the Tarellian plague.

Life Science skill increased! (35)
Medicine skill increased! (36)
Engineering skill increased! (38)
Computers skill increased! (39)

After the success of their treatment on the fifth Tarellian, their progress was suddenly halted when a mistake in the transporter programming led to an unforeseen complication. During the transportation of the next Tarellian patient, the error caused the patient to be beamed outside the designated containment area. To make matters worse, the man had not yet been cleared of the disease, putting the entire operation at risk. Tyson and T'Pol had to act quickly to contain the potential spread of the virus. Visas Marr, who had been accidentally exposed to the infected Tarellian, was transported to the Tarellian vessel to receive treatment. Meanwhile, T'Pol focused her efforts on the Oberth's decontamination procedures to prevent any further contamination.

The situation was dire, and the additional delay was frustrating. Tyson worked quickly to adjust the treatment for Visas unsure how her Miriluka physiology would react to the deadly virus. Thankfully, having her transporter records made her treatment easier.

After they were sure Visas was clear, Tyson worked to correct the transporter programming error of their last patient, while T'Pol meticulously decontaminated the affected areas on the Oberth. Once the situation was under control, they resumed their efforts to treat the remaining Tarellians.

+1 Luck

Several grueling hours later, Tyson and T'Pol had successfully treated all the Tarellians on board the vessel, except one. As Tyson prepared for the final treatment, Ariana stepped into the holographic medbay. She had watched her people be saved one by one as Tyson worked tirelessly, and she couldn't help but be drawn to his dedication.

Ariana was the youngest Tarellian woman, and likely the last chance to continue their race. She decided to playfully embrace her situation. She adopted the role of a seductive patient. Ariana approached Tyson, her eyes filled with both gratitude and desire. "Doctor," she purred, "I've been feeling a little... feverish."

Tyson was slightly taken aback by the woman's approach. But he was willing to participate in the flirtatious exchange. He raised an eyebrow and played along, "Well, let me take a look and see what I can do for you," he said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

As Ariana leaned closer, her breath warm on his neck, she whispered, "I trust you completely, Doctor. I know you'll take good care of me." Her fingers gently brushed against his.

T'Pol deduced the woman's intentions and surprisingly, her holographic avatar's appearance changed to that of a seductive nurse, complete with a revealing outfit. Though her expression remained neutral, it was clear she was participating in the flirtatious role-play. As she examined Ariana, T'Pol announced in her usual Vulcan manner, "It appears that our patient requires a special treatment from Doctor Tyson before we proceed with the cure."

Tyson, amused by T'Pol's unexpected participation, played along. "Nurse T'Pol, could you please elaborate on the nature of this special treatment?"

T'Pol, maintaining her serious demeanor, replied, "It is a highly... interactive procedure, requiring close personal contact… followed by an injection. Doctor, I trust you are capable of administering it?"

Tyson couldn't help but smile at the lighthearted banter. "Of course, Nurse T'Pol. I am fully prepared to handle the situation."

The Vulcan avatar deadpanned, "Then I leave her treatment in your capable hands. Contact me when you're ready to proceed to the next stage." She hesitated before adding, "Oh, and doctor, take your time. This is your last patient for the day." Her holographic avatar then faded away leaving Tyson and Ariana alone.

Ariana, enjoying the exchange, leaned in and whispered seductively to Tyson, "I'm ready for my treatment, Doctor."

With a slow, deliberate motion, she reached for the edge of her shirt and pulled it over her head, her long, flowing hair cascading down her back. Tyson couldn't help but admire her confidence and the gentle curves of her body. Next, Ariana unfastened her pants and slid them down her legs, her movements graceful and fluid. She now stood before Tyson in her undergarments. Ariana's eyes held his gaze as she reached behind her to unclasp her bra, allowing it to fall to the floor. Finally, Ariana slid off her remaining undergarment and climbed onto the biobed, her body fully exposed. The bright lighting of the room cast a soft glow on her skin, highlighting the contours of her body and the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. Tyson took a moment to collect himself before approaching the bed, his eyes never leaving hers.

Ariana's gratitude was painted across her face, her eyes glistening with unshed tears and something deeper, a tangible desire that echoed his own. Tyson reached for Ariana. The act was deliberate, his fingers tracing the soft curve of her cheek, brushing the stray locks of her hair away from her face. Ariana's breath hitched as Tyson drew her close, their bodies aligning. He could feel her heartbeat against his, a fast-paced rhythm that matched his own. He traced the line of her collarbone, the gentle touch eliciting a soft sigh from Ariana. Her hands found purchase on his shoulders, her fingers gripping him tighter as Tyson's lips found hers. The kiss was slow and deep, a tangle of shared breaths and escalating desire. Ariana returned the kiss with equal fervor, her hands slipping down to his waist, drawing him even closer. She pulled her savior on top of her, his Inventory removing the only barrier between them.

Ariana lay beneath him on the biobed, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. Slowly, he lowered himself to her, their bodies meeting in a warm embrace. As Tyson claimed Ariana's lips in a passionate kiss, he could taste the sweetness of her breath, the softness of her lips. His hands traced the contours of her body, his fingers lingering over her hips, her waist. Ariana sighed against him as his length ran along her slickness. Then, as naturally as their breaths synced, Tyson found himself bridging the final gap between them, crossing the threshold that marked their transition from two separate entities into a single, entwined entity. It was a gentle, deliberate union. Ariana gasped softly, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she adjusted to the new sensation. Tyson held still, allowing her to accommodate him. As Ariana relaxed, Tyson began to move, establishing a slow, steady rhythm that echoed in the murmurs of pleasure that escaped her lips.

The world narrowed down to Tyson and Ariana, their bodies moving in rhythm. Tyson watched Ariana under him. Her eyes were closed, lips slightly parted, a picture of surrender and pleasure that was profoundly intimate.

Tyson could feel a tightening sensation coiling within him, a sweet pressure building to an inevitable crescendo. Ariana clung to him, her fingers digging into his back, a mirror to his own impending release. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps, matching his own heightened pace. Their shared rhythm began to falter, their movements becoming more desperate, more frantic. Tyson could sense Ariana's tension, her body quivering under him, an exquisite tension that mirrored his own. With a final, shared gasp, they crossed the threshold together, their bodies shuddering in their mutual release.

A profound silence fell over the makeshift sickbay, their labored breathing the only sound in the otherwise quiet room. The intense wave of their shared climax slowly receded, leaving behind a sense of deep satisfaction. Tyson collapsed beside Ariana, their sweat-slick bodies still intertwined, the aftershocks of their shared pleasure rippling between them.

A profound sensation unfurled within Tyson, spiraling out from the epicenter of their physical connection and radiating outward to touch the other Tarellians. At this moment, Tyson was no longer just the man who had cured the Tarellians; he was Ariana's savior. A profound link was forged, a bond of shared reverence and unwavering loyalty. Tyson became acutely aware of a multitude of minds and hearts reaching out to him in silent deference, a choir of souls united by their shared faith in him. The Tarellians, once lost and desperate, had found in Tyson a beacon of hope and salvation. The residual echoes of Ariana's passion seemed to resonate across this bond, amplifying the depth and sincerity of their shared faith.

As their post-climactic breaths hushed to a murmur, Tyson could hear the silent wishes of the Tarellians. Their reverence for him was palpable, a shimmering tapestry of awe, gratitude, and absolute devotion. They saw him not merely as a savior but as a divine figure, their loyalty to him unwavering and eternal. In their eyes, he was a bringer of salvation. His word was the gospel, his voice the divine decree that would guide them through the dark expanses of the universe and into the warmth of their promised sanctuary.

In that singular moment of unity, Tyson realized the depth of the mantle he had unwittingly taken up. He was their chosen one, their prophet, their guide. As he lay there, cradling Ariana in his arms, Tyson made a silent vow to honor this newfound faith. He would lead them, protect them, and, above all, strive to be worthy of the unshakable faith they had placed in him.

New Followers Acquired!

Hidden Quest Complete!
Roddenberry's Universe VI - She's got a fever, and the only prescription is you! The only thing more contagious than the Tarellian plague is your love.
Reward:
+1 Social skill
+1 Perform skill

Perk Acquired!
Plague Doctor
If deadly diseases don't stop you from getting some, nothing will. +10 bonus to any check involving a disease. This bonus is doubled if the disease has any 'adult' effects or side effects.

With the Tarellian plague finally under control, Tyson and T'Pol knew that it was time to focus on the next steps – helping the Tarellians rebuild their lives and regroup with the Enterprise.

---

AN: Reviews are appreciated, I read them all and consider feedback for future writing. If you like the shit I write or the format changes, let me know.

Rolls: Based on feedback, went to a LitRPG-light style for the rolls in this chapter. LMK if it helped with immersion.

Lemons: Ask and ye shall receive.

Combat: Next chapter I'm going to try something different based on the feedback from reviewers.

Interlude: 4 weeks is a long time to wait for an update. Mirror Tyson's origin story should be finishing up this week. If you want an interlude between long chapter updates, leave a review!

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Tyson
Title: Ensign, Padawan, System Lord, Cultist

Race: Human Hybrid
Level: 12 (126,800/397,000)

Energy Credits: 328,120,603

Hit Points: 810/810 Force Points: 2 + (Use the Force skill/5)*2 + Wisdom Modifier (6*2) = 24/24

Strength: 28
Dexterity: 17
Constitution: 27
Intelligence: 20
Wisdom: 23
Charisma: 16

Armor: Reflex: 10+11+3=24
Fortitude: 10+11+8+5=34
Will: 10+11+6=27 (37 v Force)

Luck: 2

Unspent Attribute Points: 2

Traits: Vulcan Senses, Strength, Metabolism
Half-Betazoid Sense
Klingon Constitution
Gaze Sense, Dream Visions
Gills, Nonliving, Hard to Injure
Sneaky, Deceptive, Longevity (1200 yrs.)
Demand Surrender

Status Effects:
'Telepathic Bond (T'Pol)'
'Force Bond (Arren Kae, Visas Marr)'

Skills:
Observe: Lvl 13
Meditation: Lvl 2
Engineering: Lvl 38
Computers: Lvl 39
Physical Science: Lvl 31
Martial Arts: Lvl 32
Athletics: Lvl 20
Medicine: Lvl 36
Social: Lvl 34
Cooking: Lvl 32
Energy Weapons: Lvl 18
Melee Weapons: Lvl 20
Stealth: Lvl 21
Perform: Lvl 21
Thievery: Lvl 2
Use The Force: Lvl 35
Lightsabers: Lvl 12
Piloting: Lvl 2
Life Science: Lvl 35

Force Powers:
Sense Force, Force Sight
Art of the Small, Mind Trick
Force Resistance
Telekinesis
Battle Strike
Dark Rage, Sith Alchemy

Lightsaber Technique:
Forms: Shii-Cho, Trakata
Talents: Block, Deflect, Double Attack, Multiattack Proficiency (2)

Cultists Powers:
Domains - (0/3 Selected)
Powers - Companion Channeling, Answer Prayer
Followers - 9

Language Skills:
Cetacean: Lvl 5
Klingon: Lvl 2
Vulcan: Lvl 5
Ligonian: Lvl 5
Huttese: Lvl 4

Perks:
'Out of Nowhere'
'The Anti-Worf Effect'
'Universal Translator'
'Culinary Visualization'
'Your Hands Clean'
'Grand Theft Starship'
'Spreading Love'
'Power Eater'
'Apt Pupil'
'Master with your Hands'
'Binding Foods'
'Direct Control Disruption'
'Aesthetic Damage'
'Speedy Promotions'
'Legendary Thief'
'Force Vergence'
'Duel of the Fates'
'Cultic Beginnings'
'Plague Doctor'

Drawbacks:
'Q and U'
'Hunted by the Light and Dark'

Systems:
Korriban

Companions:
Visas Marr
{Miriluka Sith Apprentice}
Reputation: Kindly (3/5)
Level 11
HP: 285
Defenses: 27 Reflex, 24 Fortitude, 29 Will.
Use the Force +19
Lightsaber: +19 attack, 2d8+6 Damage
Double Attack: Visas can make a second attack in a round at a -5 penalty
Force Techniques: Force Grip, Force Lightning, Move Object, Rebuke, Vital Transfer, Wound
Lightsaber Forms: Shii-Cho, Ataru, Shien

T'Pol
{Vulcan Science Officer}
Reputation: Ally(5/5)
Level 11
HP: 220
Defenses: 23 Reflex, 26 Fortitude, 29 Will
Use the Force +1
Vulcan Phaser: +11 attack, 30 Damage
Skills: Life Science +19, Physical Science +19, Engineering +10, Medicine +2, Computers +8, Social +3
Traits: Vulcan Strength, Vulcan Senses, Vulcan Metabolism, Force Sensitivity