“All of this…in five years?” Captain Leopold Halsey sat in his office, reading through the pages and pages of reports on his PADD from the colony below.  He glanced up at Lieutenant Commander Blanchefleur Courtemanche.  She had returned from retirement to head up the station counseling department and volunteered to help the Director of Medical Operations.

“We’ve been doing further…investigation into their supposed ‘doctor.’  His resume was filled with plenty of half-truths and lies.  They accepted him at the time because they were desperate to have a medical presence in the colony.  For whatever reason – Colony Operations let them down by not validating his experience.  We’ve sent a report back, but most of the staff that handled this one are gone.  There is one name you might be interested in.”  She handed her PADD over.

Leopold read the name, his face reddening in recognition, “Goddamned James Pottinger.”

She accepted the PADD back, “His daughter is Grace Pottinger…her record is public given her crimes, charges, and sentencing.”  She returned to the Rigel file, “I’ve seen my share of bad apples, captain…but she didn’t fall far from the tree.  His dossier – the available parts – is quite the read.”

He remembered the man.  He was intense and driven – that much had transferred to his daughter. Plenty more had gotten through and into her head, spoiling her mind and turning her heart. “That was a year ago,” he reflected.  “Mercy was a good ship – great crew.  I’m guessing you’re asking if we should find James Pottinger and talk to him?”

Blanchefleur hadn’t made up her mind.  “You have all the background that I don’t, captain.  From what I’ve got – sure.  What’s the worst that can happen?”  She held up her hand, seeing him sit up in his chair, ready to protest.  “However…hearing and seeing your reaction to his name makes me think it’d be bad to open that wound.  His daughter is serving her sentence, and he won’t likely like you much.”

He leaned back in his chair, “How involved was he with their application and process?”

She scrolled through the various reports, updates, and logs.  Her eyes widened a little at each click as she scanned and read.  “Why do you ask?” she wondered as her eyes worked through the reports.

Halsey shook his head, “You don’t have much of a poker face, Director Courtemanche.  I asked because I know him and Grace – neither of them can let go or delegate.  They like to put both hands on the wheel and steer.  She learned from him.  I have a bad feeling his name will come up when we start talking to them about their medical situation and everything else.  Is Hargraves still onboard?”  She checked the roster and confirmed he was.  “Then we’ll need his help – have him meet me at Colony Operations.  Do a discrete search for James Pottinger…I need to know where he is in case Charlie and I hit a wall or two.”

“This is a lot, captain.”  Charlie Hagraves stood in one of the empty colonial operations stations as Halsey sat at one of the consoles, reviewing the situation.  “Effectively, they’ve not had proper medical care for thirty years.  I’d been wondering why their population was at 700 – even with emigration, it should have been higher.”

Halsey tapped at the console, “We’ve been scanning the population from orbit with a general scan first and then a specific body-by-body sensor sweep. It’s not great. Several virulent outbreaks are currently working their way through the population, not to mention a number of curable diseases tripping our sensors.  We’ve isolated some of this due to local plant life – the Botany department is working through the sensor logs and records.  There’s also the problem of just health in general – the life expectancy in this colony is well below the average for most Federation colonies.  Their last reports two years ago had it had 65 – then they just stopped sending them altogether.”

The Dragonfly’s Chief Diplomatic officer accepted a PADD from Halsey, which he read as he asked, “Did they ever ask for help?”

“No.  When the station started construction, they initially refused to communicate.  It took repeated hails and even a personal visit from one of the lead construction officers to get someone to come out and greet them.  The colony team in this room arrived about a week ago and has slowly been able to make regular contact.  I’ve put a quarantine restriction on going down to the planet – we’re not sure what thirty years on Rikal III has done to most folks.”

Charlie shook his head as he finished reading, “How will we get them to trust us?”

Halsey stood from his chair. “That’s what we get to figure out. The station’s diplomatic officer is on the Peserverence, and you’re the highest-ranking officer with the skillset. Your CO is letting me borrow you.”

That gave Hargraves pause, “She’s not the type to play well with others.”

“Then it’s good we’ve played together before at Starfleet Academy.  I won you fair and square, Charlie.  Or is it Charles?”  His stare was enough of an answer, “She’s a tough nut or cookie…or whatever metaphor works for you…but once you get beyond that hard shell – Pantuso is the best commanding officer you could ask for.  Now, let’s talk strategy…”