So you rolled a total of 4 success (the 4 counts as two because of your Xenobiology focus), which is more than enough, and adds one Momentum back into the pool, keeping your total at 4 Momentum.
Dr. Simpson detects an array of unusual compounds in the atmosphere, all of which are… huh. As you are watching the tricorder’s display, the results of the scan are changing. Slowly, but unquestionably. The compounds you scanned earlier were completely harmless, and the new compounds are completely harmless, but some of them are definitely different. And it’s impossible at this time, with only a tricorder, to project exactly how long this has been going on, or how far down the chain of chemical reactions you picked up, nor if it is a cyclical system (Compound A → Compound B → … → Compound X → Compound A) or not.
Of course, it’s hard to get much of a reading with all the smoke and the remnants of the plasma leaks from the crash, but whatever you’re detecting is very, very minute. Maybe you can get a better reading closer to whatever plants, rocks, or tech is producing these organic compounds that are changing?
In your medical opinion, there is no immediate risk to the group. Probably. At least from what you’re scanning right now, and where you are scanning it.
Tray steps out of the shuttlecraft, the smell of burning wood suddenly much more proximal. The rest of the team takes up positions near the door of the shuttle, ready to dart out towards nearby rocks for cover, or to lay down covering fire from where they are.
Lt. Cee has only gone a few steps when you all hear what can only be described as a shriek. Imagine something between a Tarzan yowl and a t-rex roar. Within moments, a group of…
(Aside: Okay. These aren’t my words I’m using, I’m just describing them the way the adventure describes them, and I can only apologize for any of you who actually understand how science works… like… even a little… anyway…)
Within moments, a group of strange Neanderthal humanoids rush out of the forest. A few raise clubs above their heads, one is brandishing stones in each hand, and one is waving a Type-1 phaser threateningly in front of itself… it’s upside-down and pointing the wrong way, but she’s waving it nonetheless. All four of them are wearing the tattered remnants Federation-issue uniforms that a science team might wear.
They’re screaming at you, lips curled back in feral anger, but they still have about twenty meters to go before they’re on top of you.
(Second aside: are we all comfortable with metric? I can swap to Imperial units if you’re all more familiar and comfortable with feet, yards, and miles)