Part of Starbase Bravo: Home Among The Stars

Little Bravo Peep Has Lost Her Sheep

StarBase Bravo Arboretum
2402.09
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By the time medical officers arrived on the scene of the disappearance of a trio of schoolchildren, the suspected section of the arboretum had already been cordoned off. Investigations was already hard at work, ready to locate and return the missing children before anyone was hurt, or there was too much undue panic.

Samina Dumante, a Capellan civilian and the schoolteacher who arranged this field trip was clutching one hand to her chest and doing her level best not to panic as she drew in a long, slow breath and met Commander Alven’s intense gaze.

Alven took in the scene as he crossed the cordon: the hush of the arboretum, the slight humidity to his breath, the way the teacher’s hand pressed flat against her chest like she was holding herself together. He kept his voice even. “Commander Torias Alven, Investigations. We’re going to find them.” He keyed his tricorder without looking down, already filtering for three small biosign profiles, recent perspiration traces, residual heat on foliage at child-height. Joining had its uses; old search-and-rescue drills from a prior host rose like muscle memory. Contain, confirm, then close the distance. “Start with what you saw, Ms. Dumante. Carefully.”

“I groups the children into trios so no one was alone at any given time.  Merth needed to go to the bathroom and his group accompanied him. I was going to send Miss Talven with them as a chaperone, but Samantha Forger cut her finger and I was distracted just long enough to lose track of Merth, T’Sara and Benjamin.” Her voice wavered clearly feeling guilty, even though it was impossible for her to be two places at once.

Alven nodded at her to continue, observing her too intently to be comfortable.

She pointed towards a bush of fabulously vibrant magenta berries that nearly were oozing with juice. They smelled sweet and enticing, almost like candy. “Over there by that bush, that’s the last I saw of them.”

Alven followed her point to the berry bush. Even from here the sweetness cut through the humidity. Too inviting by half. The tricorder returned a chemistry panel: sugars, volatile esters, something that would stain fingers and tongues purple. He crouched, sweeping the base of the shrub. A smear on a lower leaf—sticky, fresh. Good. But the ground cover was a mess of decorative moss and woven root.

“Security,” he said into his combadge, “expand the cordon five meters. I want a soft perimeter, no stomping. Ops, route me the last thirty minutes from the micro-motion grid and aeration sensors in this section.” The berries’ placard warned not to eat them. “Ms. Dumante, I need you to stay here. Security can help if you need support with the children,” Alven looked at her again, softening, “I don’t reckon we need to call in parents just yet.”

The motion logs populated. Thin skeins of pathing data drawn over a wireframe of the arboretum. Three small clusters peeled off the main path together, then split: two signatures pushed deeper into the understory, one hovered, then went with them. Alven rolled his eyes. Classic ‘we’ll just look’ energy. He straightened as footsteps approached.

Strolling up, Theran Jos had one hand in his pocket and one hand on a PADD of information. A Human, a Bolian, and a Vulcan hybrid. Three missing children, all aged eight or nine. Clearly they had wandered off the clearly marked, well paved paths and into the tangled depths of the arboretum. “I don’t suppose they were eating those berries – even though there’s a sign clearly telling people to not eat the berries.”

Which as far as Theran was concerned was probably double enticing for a child. The very definition of forbidden fruit.

Alven did not look up right away; he marked the last good ping on the motion grid and pushed it to Theran’s device. “Grid shows three smalls left the path right here, thirty-one minutes ago. We’ve got fresh sugar compounds on the leaves, so assume contact.” He finally met Theran’s eye, taking his measure, a quick read of posture and pace, and nodded once.

“I’ll keep pulling sensor threads: airflow variance, subsoil vibration, discreet comm panel pings if they tried to ‘phone home’. You take the human side, groundskeepers, any strolling witnesses, and Ms. Dumante’s chaperones. Best bedside manner. And get me a sample kit on those berries; if they’re mildly emetic or psychoactive, we need to know how long before nausea or disorientation kicks in. You’ll be better at all of that stuff than me, doc.”

He turned a fraction toward the dark between the fronds, listening to the fans and the faintest echo of water through the irrigation stones. “Stupid kids.”

Mid-pluck of a berry that was so full of juice it was quavering between the pincers of the surgical forceps used to pluck it, Theran stifled a snicker. He heard that, and it was likely true. But as his father always said ‘kids will be kids.’

The berry hit the bottom of the sample container with an unceremonious splat, helpfully tossing juices into the waiting collectors. One little click later and it was plugged in to Theran’s tricorder as he read the data across the screen. One antennae wiggled in thought as he picked his way past the fronds to follow Commander Alven. “Well, the good news is the berries are highly unlikely to cause respiratory or cardiovascular distress to the children. The bad news is they are psychoactive. The very bad news is the specific chemical compounds in it are most potent for biologies with cobalt based blood.” He paused and emphasized, “wasn’t one of the kids Bolian?”

The word Bolian made Alven’s brow crease, but he kept his voice steady. “Yeah. Benjamin. Which means if they’ve been sampling, we’re dealing with kids whose judgment is already questionable—made worse.” He gave a small huff that might have been amusement if it weren’t so dry. “Not that nine-year-olds are known for flawless decision-making.” He flicked his tricorder open a little wider. “Let’s just say the timeline to find them got shorter.”

Both antennae tipped downwards this time as the doctor refined his scan. “It has a high efficacy against copper blood, so I think the Vulcan student would be feeling it first, and a low reactivity with iron based blood.” Jos furrowed his white browns, curling both antennae downwards in an expression of deep thought as he refined his data. “By the chemical make up, I expect the symptoms include feelings of euphoria, loss of inhibition, and hallucinations.”

The Andorian looked up, giving a light shrug to his senior officer, as if to say ‘yes we’re looking for kids and it’s likely that at least one of them will be tripping balls.’

The doctor’s rundown only confirmed what Alven suspected. Euphoria, inhibition gone, hallucinations. If he’d had a bar of latinum for every time he’d heard that mix, he’d have retired already. “So,” he muttered, half to himself, “we’re looking for one happy camper, one wide-eyed explorer, and one who thinks the moss is talking to them.” He tapped his combadge. “Medical, be ready with stims and blankets. We’ll bring them back in one piece, but they may not thank us for it right away.” His tricorder swept through the fronds, reading faint trails of heat. He nodded, lips pressed in thought. “At least they’re together. Makes our job easier.”

Theran’s antennae curled lightly forward, listening for signs of life while Alven scanned for them. It was a good point, why allow such an enticing berry bush to be so close to a pathway, but the chemical compounds were starting to tell the whole story.

“Good point, but with the chemical makeup I think these berries smell pretty foul to species with iron-based blood, and they probably taste extremely bitter.” He looked towards Alven as if encouraging him to sniff the sample. “On the other hand, to me it smells… delicious, like candy.” That’s what happened when you gathered wildly different biologies all together on one station.

The sweet scent of the berries lingered as Jos angled the container toward him, suggesting he sniff. Alven waved it off with a wry shake of his head. “I’ll take your word for it, doctor. If it smelled like candy to me too, we’d both be in trouble.” His tricorder pinged, sharper now. He leaned into the screen. “Got them. Southeast quadrant, moving – but not fast. Ninety meters. Looks like they’re circling more than walking.” He straightened, already stepping toward the deeper greenery. “That’s good news. We’re not chasing sprinters, just dreamers.” He gave Jos a sidelong glance, the faintest spark of humour in his eye. “Still, let’s go before they decide to redecorate the arboretum in purple handprints.”

With one check of the PADD that positioned teams and a twitch of his antennae, Theran poised, ready to move. “Teams are in place, medical backup is ready, let’s go rescue some kids!”