“Definitely Ocampa script,” Merez muttered, studying the nearest display. “But this is strange. The technology’s far beyond anything the Ocampa are known to have built.”

Lee raised an eyebrow. “So if they didn’t build it, then who did?”

Merez ran a deeper scan with his tricorder, frowning as additional layers of data revealed themselves. “Hold on. These command protocols are not Ocampa in origin. This isn’t their design.”

“Then whose is it?” Askew asked, stepping beside him.

Jaceon, who had been circling the chamber’s perimeter, called over with his tricorder in his hand. “Commander, I’m picking up embedded known design markers. My tricorder is just running through the database.” He paused and then shared what his device had found. “This structure, these emitters, the power signature, it’s Nacene. They built this.”

There was a pause as that name settled in the air.

Merez’s expression turned serious. “The Nacene created this facility?” He looked around the room and considered that idea for a second. “We know the Nacene by accident damaged Ocampa’s atmosphere. This moon, it wasn’t just terraformed. It was engineered. Perhaps it was meant to be a gift from the Nacene to the Ocampa to help a species they’d harmed.”

A subtle chime sounded from the console. A holographic display flickered to life above the central pedestal, depicting a verdant, fertile moon forming from a lifeless rock. The visual shifted to show oceans being seeded, flora blooming, atmospheric layers stabilising, all orchestrated by elegant devices floating in low orbit. Finally, a group of youthful Ocampa appeared, their hands raised in curiosity and awe as they wandered through cultivated valleys and crystalline towers.

The words pulsed in Ocampan writing. Merez looked down and translated to the others, sharing that it was designated as the Garden of Minds. Merez continued. “It says the Garden of Minds was designed to enhance the telepathic capacity of younger Ocampa, preparing them to reclaim what was lost to their race when their homeworld was damaged. It would almost make them one with this world.”

“The Nacene felt guilty,” Lee said quietly. “So they made this to give the Ocampa a future.”

As the memory playback continued, the holographic display showed scenes of young Ocampa sitting in meditative circles, communicating silently and harmoniously with one another. The energy of the moon itself seemed to pulse in rhythm with their thoughts.

“So why didn’t the Ocampa come here?” Askew asked.

“Perhaps the Nacene abandoned this project,” Lee suggested. “We know the Caretaker remained behind to help and protect them as they moved underground. Perhaps this was their backup plan for the Ocampa.” 

“And has been left like this for centuries,” Askew remarked as she looked at the systems around them. 

“But now,” Merez continued, scanning the interface, “this whole system’s running autonomously. It’s misidentifying non-Ocampa youths as compatible. That includes our cadets.”

“And the neurogenic field?” Askew prompted.

“Powered by a micro-tetryon reactor, which is typical of Nacene technology,” Jaceon reported from the far side of the chamber, pointing to a glowing node embedded within a lattice of crystalline conduits. “The field’s originating from here. Controlled, barely, by these ancient emitters.”

Jaceon read further from his own tricorder, “It’s all being powered through a stabilised micro-tetryon reactor that appears to have gone without maintenance for centuries. That might be why the system is misfiring.”

“So the cadets’ brains are being pulled into some kind of collective telepathic space designed for a completely different species,” Lee concluded grimly. “And the system thinks it’s doing them a favour.”

Askew examined the data feed from her tricorder, her brows drawing together in concern. “These readings suggest that the construct uses emotional and memory reinforcement loops, probably to help Ocampa youth learn to control their telepathy. But for our cadets, it could be traumatic.”

“As Kit said, if we shut it down abruptly,” Merez warned, “it could cause permanent damage. Their brains are still linked. We have to let them reach a resolution internally first. Then we bring them back.”

Lee studied the faintly pulsing emitter overhead. “We stand by. Monitor everything. And the second they begin to separate from the construct, we guide them back.”

Askew nodded. “No mistakes. We only get one shot at this.”

The white door slid open with a soft hum, revealing a wide stone corridor that extended ahead like the mouth of a long-forgotten temple. The air was still, the walls ancient and smooth, carved from pale stone that shimmered faintly in the sterile light. It stretched toward a grand spiralling staircase, ascending into a cavernous space where a single shaft of pale natural light glimmered far above.

Alfie stepped forward first, followed by Jordan, Beatrice, and Scott. Though none of them spoke, a silent unity had formed in the wake of their strange confinement. The tension hadn’t vanished entirely, especially not between Alfie, Jordan, and Scott, but for now, the mystery outweighed personal conflicts.

The staircase appeared to have been carved out of the stone by ancient, deliberate hands. Each step was wide but worn, and the spiral disappeared into darkness. Still barefoot in their white vests and shorts, they began the ascent.

Scott, determined to redeem himself in some small way, offered to take the lead, climbing with quiet purpose.

“Careful,” Beatrice said behind him. “It looks steep.”

“I’ve got it,” Scott replied, trying to sound confident.

They climbed in a single file, the only sound the faint echo of bare feet against stone. The air grew cooler as they ascended. Small cracks in the walls let in slivers of pale light, casting strange patterns around them.

Halfway up, the ground shuddered. A deep rumble echoed through the stairwell.

“Wait—” Beatrice started, but it was too late.

The step beneath Scott cracked sharply with the tremor. With a yelp, he lost his balance. Stone broke away beneath his foot, and the floor gave out.

“Scott!” Alfie shouted.

Scott crashed down with a loud thud, a cascade of stone and dust falling on top of him. He grunted in pain, trying to push himself up, but his leg was pinned beneath a broken slab.

Jordan was by his side in seconds, helping to brush away debris. Alfie was already kneeling on the other side, inspecting the injury.

“It’s broken,” Alfie muttered grimly as he pulled off his vest and started to use it to help deal with a significant cut that was bleeding out. He wrapped most of it around Scott’s leg.

Scott winced as he sat up, his face pale. “Just leave me. Go on. You might not get another chance.”

“Shut up,” Beatrice said firmly, searching the stairwell. She spotted a fallen rod of ancient metal, possibly a support beam, and brought it over. “We’re not leaving anyone.”

Jordan and Alfie worked quickly to splint Scott’s leg with the rod. Jordan, like Alfie had just done, pulled off his vest and ripped it apart to use the fabric to help tie it around Scott’s leg with the rod.

Sweat beaded on Scott’s forehead as they lifted him, his arms around both Alfie and Jordan’s topless torsos for support.

“I’m sorry,” Scott said between breaths. “For everything. I never meant to get between the two of you. I didn’t know how to stop feeling what I felt.”

Jordan looked down at the steps, silent.

Alfie nodded slowly. “We’re not leaving you behind, Scott. Let’s just focus on getting out of here.”

Together, the four continued the climb. One step and one breath at a time.

USS Astra (NCC-96894), Unknown Moon, Nacene Reach, Delta Quadrant

“So, this Garden of Minds,” Niro said slowly, arms folded, “The Nacene created it as a gift to the Ocampa. It’s an advanced telepathic network powered by a micro-tetryon reactor. It makes you wonder what the Nacene had planned for the Ocampa.”

The captain turned to the others in sickbay, intrigued to hear their thoughts on the matter. He had called Parker back after she had spoken with the other cadets. The four of them now all stood around the central console after hearing back from the away team about their underground discovery. 

“And it’s been running on autopilot ever since,” Parker added. “It’s mistaking our cadets for Ocampa. They’ve been caught up in a system never meant for them. At least the other cadets haven’t been affected.”

Stellan pointed to the readings. “The system is deeply invasive. It’s certainly what’s creating the neurogenic field. Their brain wave patterns are now perfectly harmonised. As I discovered earlier, it’s a full telepathic collective. They’re experiencing the same reality, linked in ways we barely understand. It’s worse than the Borg Collective. Once it is in your mind, I don’t see how you can get out of it. Even with the Astra‘s shields up, this Garden of Minds can by-pass them now that it is hooked within their minds. If the other cadets had been exposed to the outside, they would all most likely be in the same state.”

Penelope interjected, her voice calm but precise. “We’ve confirmed that the emitter system is stable for now. The away team has secured the area, but they agree with us that it should not be shut down without first disentangling the cadets’ minds. They’re going to monitor it from their end and see if they can find any more clues.”

“So what else can we do for them?” Niro asked. 

“I’m not sure, sir,” Stellan replied, adjusting the feed from Scott’s biobed. Suddenly, one of the scans spiked. “That’s new,” He murmured.

“What is it?” Niro asked, stepping closer.

“Pain response,” Stellan replied as he moved over to where the midshipman was lying. Stellan took out his tricorder and started to scan him closely. “Localised to the lower limb. But there’s no injury. Not here, not physically.”

Parker’s eyes widened. “That could mean that he’s injured inside the mental construct. This Garden of Minds could be making him believe he is injured.”

“It’s a possibility,” Stellan said gravely. “The brain is reacting as if the leg is broken. The feedback loop between mind and body is stronger than we thought.”

“If that’s true,” Niro said slowly, the weight of his words settling in, “and if this network links injury to real-world response, then could they die in there?”

Silence answered him for a long moment.

Stellan didn’t sugarcoat his response. “It’s another possibility, sir. If the injury is traumatic enough and if they suffer death in that space, then there’s a distinct likelihood that the body could respond accordingly.”

Parker added quietly, “Their minds think the danger is real. And in the brain, that may be enough. It could affect their heart and other vital organs.”

Niro nodded slowly, solemnly. “Then we make sure they get out before it comes to that. Whatever it takes.”

Penelope looked across the monitors. “We’ll track every neural impulse and wait for signs of dissociation. The moment one of them begins to emerge, we stabilise and recover them.”

“I’d prefer to find another solution to help them out,” Stellan admitted, but shrugged. “However, I’m not sure we can do anything this side.”

Niro looked over at the EMH, who was scanning Alfie. “Doctor, any ideas?”

The holographic doctor flickered; it was still in its damaged state. “I’m afraid not. Lieutenant Stellan could be correct unless the away team can find a solution. Perhaps another safe turn-off switch exists?”

“That’s going to be unlikely with such an old system,” Penelope remarked. “We’re limited to what we can do.”

“Then they need to find a way out, together,” Niro said with a long sigh as he looked upon the cadets.