“Our probes identified the structures and the materials anywhere from a hundred years ago to just under five hundred.” As she spoke, Ensign Lita Morrison cycled through the images on the screen at the front of the expansive briefing room on deck one. She had worked tirelessly during the last hour, scrambling for data, information, and details to inform the rest of the command staff so the collective group would be able to make an educated decision. Lita had found her time on the Zephyr quietly freeing compared to her time on the Dragonfly. Here, there wasn’t the tightly wrapped bounding of nerves to contend with, and the glances from CO didn’t give her fear or cause her to freeze mid-sentence.

She continued, “On your PADDs, you’ll find the full report from my team—our initial theory on their status as archeologists is becoming the leading one. The other ideas don’t hold up under further scrutiny or logical tests.” She nodded to her Vulcan deputy chief, “Cadet Kyllok was instrumental in guiding our initial testing.” She returned to her seat as the captain leaned forward at the other end of the table.

He glanced around the table, saying, “The probes are unable to definitely determine if the life signs are groups of our missing colonists or someone else.”

Commander Vargas, whose furrowed brow had been stewing, asked, “An additional question is what if there’s a mix of groups? If those three underground facilities were already occupied, the settlers could be mixed in with them.”

In the middle of the table, Doctor Henry Longfellow had a look of concern on his face, and it was not mild. “There is an additional layer to the commander’s theory – that they may not be guests, but prisoners.” He tapped at his PADD, “The preliminary report on the Borg is just under a thousand drones. We’ve counted one hundred colonist bodies and remains. That’s far below the estimates of five hundred.”

Lieutenant Kondo De La Fontaine shook his head, “Standard numbers of Borg Cubes start at a minimum of five thousand. A thousand is…as close to our concept of a skeleton crew, and that’s being generous. Is there a possibility this wasn’t a Collective-connected ship?”

Lita felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. There was enough evidence in the history of the Borg that could possibly allow for such a thing, as weird as she found the entire concept. The Collective and the Borg were like peanut butter and jelly – just not as delicious. She replied, “We’re carefully evaluating the few remaining pieces of Borg equipment that survived without critical damage. At first and second glance, this was a functional Borg ship with all the ‘resistance is futile’ programming in place.” She caught a glance from Captain Bradley and allowed, “We’ll dig a little deeper.”

Bradley returned to the report, asking Longfellow, “Your report on what was inside the Sentinals and then inside the Borg is limited in revelations- you must have a theory. Your report is lacking in additional concepts, Doctor.”

Longfellow’s face remained intransigent, but his eyes sparkled at the pressing question from his CO. He tapped at his PADD, pulling up his supplementary report and data he had been composing. “Ten years is a long time. Finding out the exact cause is impossible. However,” here he gently waved off the words about to come from Captain Bradley, “What we can surmise from the damage to the bodies is that it tore at the Borg from the inside. This was not an injectable or some kind of weapon they shot at the drones. This was a bioengineered infection that slid under the mechanical skin and burrowed deep within until it found purchase. Then it started burrowing its way back out by force.”

The hair on Lita’s neck arched. She blurted out, “That’s extreme bioengineered weaponry.” Her shock was echoed around the table. “How in the universal translator did these settlers manage to pull that off?”

Captain Bradley grimaced as he replied, “Thirty years is a long time, Ensign Morrison. Without data on their rosters or personal information, these settlers could have been anyone.” He frowned, clearly not liking what thought had been brainstormed in his mind.

After a long pause, he remained silent. Lita asked, “Sir?”

He shook his head, clearly annoyed by the implication as he said, “Another possibility – the people they came here to study are part of how they came to this unique weapon of choice. Further possible – those original settlers of this place are alive, and used these people as experiments to bring the Borg down.” He looked around the table, “The more we think about this, the worse it gets.  I don’t want to walk into a trap or situation that threatens the crew, our ship, or the Federation at large.” Samson drummed his fingers on the table before returning to Doctor Longfellow, “Put a specialist team on the settler bodies and partner with Ensign Morrison and her team. Start from the beginning – examine everything from scratch. Morrison – assign a team to the town hall and the consoles there – have them take it apart brick by brick if they have to – there are clues at the bottom of this well…we just need to find them.”

The meeting broke up. Soon it was just Longfellow and Morrison. She’d stayed seated, staring at the various reports on her PADD. She asked, “What do you think, Doctor?”

Longfellow stood near the door, his PADD in hand. Quiet contemplation filled his face, and Lita found it comforting and jarring, given what the senior staff had just discussed. He tossed his PADD back and forth in his hands. “I think this isn’t going to be one of those easily solved missions.” He explained as she stared at him, annoyed. “What we do out here in the rimward, Ensign Morrison, is full of risk and mystery. It defies rational explanation. It’s darker out here. And being out in the dark, alone…it makes things grey.” He shrugged, “We’re the light in that darkness, Ensign. Sometimes we uncover something simple.  And sometimes…”

She pushed out from the table and walked to join him at the door, “The ghosts and the darkness?”

A sly smile crossed his lips, “There are all kinds of ghosts in the darkness. Our job is to figure out what they’re doing out here…and what to do about them, if anything. Still glad you came to the Zephyr?” He gave her a wink and headed out the door.

She rolled her eyes as the door closed behind him. As irritating as he was, she had grown to appreciate the man. She wondered if all doctors in Starfleet were just a little bit annoying as a default setting.