“We weren’t sure, Doc.” The four-member Hazard Team stood off to the side of one of the larger pieces of the wrecked Borg Cube. The team’s science lead shook his head through the helmet as he answered Lieutenant Henry Longfellow’s question.

Longfellow knelt in the crunchy grass, medical tricorder in hand. Next to him was Ensign Lita Morrison, a mixed look of curiosity and horror on her face. They had hiked up the hills to meet up with the team and found the ghastly remains of an array of Borg drones, laid out in various states of decay. She was scanning with her tricorder, confused. “I’ve never seen this kind of damage to a Borg. It’s as if the body collapsed inwards.” She stood, walked over to another group of remains, and repeated the scans. “Doctor, these readings suggest there was something inside the Borg that caused this.” She searched the rest of the wreckage that she could see, and much of it was similar to what lay around her. “Is this similar to Captain Janeway’s work with the Borg?”

Henry took several samples and sealed them in a container. “Maybe.” He walked over to where she stood, pointing out several of the wounds, “You’re right to think it came from within the body versus an exterior influence or virus similar to what Janeway did.” He knelt, and Morrison joined him. “Whatever happened, these Borg were still alive. You can see what’s left of their hands and the wounds themselves – they died trying to stop whatever was inside them.” He stood and led her through several bodies farther up the hill, “They would have been too slow to try anyway. The question is, how did the Cube end up down here and all these bodies strewn around?” He turned to the Hazard Team, “You said you had human remains?”

“Hostages?” Lita was in disbelief. The ten bodies that the Hazard Team had led them to were in various stages of decay, but Longfellow had completed a cursory scan and examination.

“Their hands were bound – you can see the remains of the ligature marks, and the strands of rope.” He pushed a body over, revealing a macabre sight of remains far beyond an expiration date. He was thankful for the respirator that kept the smell at bay. He scanned the remains again and looked closely at what had survived. A second later, he stood up straight and backed away.

Morrison watched him, alarmed.“Doc?”

He shook his head in the helmet, “They weren’t hostages. They were offerings.”  His voice had grown quiet.

She asked, “What do you mean…offerings?”  Her mind spun at the wording of his answer.  What had they stumbled onto?  What horrors had happened here?

He motioned her over and pointed into the gnarled cavity. “The tricorder didn’t pick it up at first. I had to look really close. See the bones?” She knelt, curiosity and terror seeping into her consciousness. She was starting to wonder if this was some cruel prank by Longfellow until she saw it.

“Holy shit.” She pointed at the incisions that had remained in the bones all these years. She pointed her tricorder and adjusted the scanning telemetry three times before an inkling of what had happened became clear. “They…put something in the bodies?” She turned to face him, “What the hell, Doctor?”

Longfellow had moved on to the other human remains. He sat quietly over the body of a woman. His voice was tired as he replied, “They would have known the risk of coming out here without sponsorship. They would have planned for something like this.” He didn’t move, and Lita walked over and sat beside him.

She held out her PADD, “We managed to get the survey team report from fifteen years ago.” He remained silent. “They reported contact with a group of settlers who had been here for some time. They refused help or any kind of guidance. Wanted nothing to do with Starfleet or the Federation.”

Longfellow remained in quiet repose over the body, his eyes searching the empty body before him. He sighed and accepted the PADD, scrolling through the report. He stopped, “They took photos of the settlement from orbit.” He looked at each image, zooming in at certain points, seeming to seek an answer to the sordid question they had stumbled onto. The images were stark – hundreds of people swarming the streets, busy with business, commerce, and community. The faces were clear. They had been alive once. Now, they lay in a cloud of death and mystery. He pushed himself off the grass. He stood, examining the wrecked Cube. “They were the Sentinals. Every one of them.”

Lita jumped up and stood beside him, a deep frown forming. “You mean…they all offered themselves up?” She felt her stomach lurching sourly.

Longfellow asked, “How long were they here before the survey team encountered them?”

“Thirty years is what they reported before they cut off communications.”

He let out a dispirited sigh, “So they wouldn’t have known about the Borg.”

Morrison thought for a moment before countering, “Thirty years is a long time to plan for the possibility of an attack or invasion. Starfleet shows up and wants to help keep them safe. They push the Sentinel program into high gear.” She looked to him, “You’re better on the date of death than I am.”

Henry kicked at the dirt, “Best guess is ten years ago.” He paced around the various bodies – Borg and human- for several minutes while Lita watched in rapt curiosity. He may have been constantly cantankerous, but in his element, she’d started to trust Doctor Longfellow more and more as the away mission unfolded. He stopped pacing and walked up to her. “You and your team can compensate for or negate the radiation?”

“Now that we know its intent, we can analyze for content and work on a solution.”

“Then let’s get to work. The sooner we can get my teams down here, the sooner we can start figuring out who is who and what is what.  And the why.”

Lita went to tap her badge, but stopped. Something in his expression gave her pause. “What do you mean, Doctor Longfellow?”

His hands were on his hips as he searched the world around. She saw him chewing on his bottom lip, and his eyes shifted constantly as if he was thinking through something. They focused on her, and he answered, “I need to be able to scan the planet.” He held eye contact with her as he answered her unspoken question, “I don’t think everyone died here ten years ago, Ensign Morrison. Call it a hunch, call it a feeling – we need to be able to see the whole picture.”

Her eyes widened as she remembered the phrase he had used earlier. “The ghosts and the darkness.”

He chuckled, but it was dry and dark to her ears as he replied, “Bingo. Let’s hope I’m wrong.”

She moved off to reach out to her team. She hoped he was wrong, too.