The deck plates vibrate beneath your feet as the ship emerges from warp. Ahead, a planet glows in fractured hues, its atmosphere rippling with unstable energy. Sensors chime with irregular cadence, reporting both life signs and violent fluctuations.

Saru stands at the command rail, tall and composed, his gaze settling firmly on you.

“This world,” he says softly, “is crying out in two voices. One pleads for rescue. The other warns us away. Logic dictates that both signals are valid, yet neither can be ignored.”

He inclines his head, expression steady but intent.

“I will not pretend the choice is simple. Fear would demand retreat. Rashness would demand we dive headlong. We shall do neither. You and I will weigh the data, listen for nuance, and decide where our duty lies.”

The console nearest you flickers—life signs, then seismic instability, then silence. Saru gestures for you to examine it with him.

“Observe closely. Lend your perspective. In moments such as these, a single insight may shift the balance between disaster and salvation.”