“We’ve sent teams to observe the situation, and they’ve been pretty hostile.” The Deputy Chief Medical Officer of Triage and Trauma sat at the briefing table, a PADD in one hand.  Commander Sergio Clemente was older and wiser.  He spoke with a quiet and calm cadence.  Given the calamity unfolding in the cult stronghold, those gathered around the table were impressed.  Deputy Chief Medical Officer Surgery and Critical Care Jordan Reid was frustrated and angry.  As a lieutenant, she needed to yield to the higher-ranked Clemente.  It helped that she had come to like him the short time she’d spent aboard the Olympic.  Captain Dread had hand-picked him, and Jordan had immediately understood why.  He finished with, “We’re assembling another team to visit with them in a few hours.  I’ve spoken with Dr. Reid and would like her to lead the team.”

Captain Peter Crawford yielded to his XO and Chief Medical Officer, Captian Helena Dread.  She nodded, “I’d like to you take Milty with you, Jordan.  The report from the last team noted things were getting a little more tense with each visit.  If someone starts swinging, you’ll need someone to block and tackle.”

Reid sat in the shuttle, her hands tightly clasped.  She’d been through her share of away team missions, yet she felt her nerves tensing at this moment.  She was leading the medical efforts to the cult and had been placed in command of the group.  She practiced her breathing as the pilot clattered around in the cockpit.

“You look like you’d rather be anywhere but here, Lieutenant.”  Milton ‘Milty’ Ford took a large bag into the shuttle’s cabin.

Jordan sighed, “That bad, huh?”  She sat up and shook her head, “It’s just the nerves, Commander.”

Ford gave her a stern look, “It’s Doc Ford, Dr. Reid.  We’ve been over this.  You have a prediction for not listening to your elders.”  He stowed his bag and plopped down beside her, “We’ve still got a session to do yet.”

She reddened with embarrassment.  It had been more than a few days, and she hadn’t been motivated to set an appointment with him.  “I don’t have an excuse, Doctor Ford.”

He gave her a friendly nudge on her shoulder, “Well, after we go down there and see what there is to see, let’s do lunch in the counseling office.  I hear breaking bread can help people open up to each other.”  A group of medical and security officers stepped into the cabin and took seats.  The pilot started the engines, and they all strapped in as the shuttle began to move.  It shuddered to a halt, and the rear hatch groaned open, and a new figure appeared, followed by an annoyed-looking man.

“Craig Syracuse, FNN.  This is my producer, Mark Henry.  We’ve been granted permission to join you.”

The pilot stared at the new arrivals and tapped into his communications system.  The answer surprised him.  “Welcome aboard.  Sit down and strap in.”  

The reporter sat across from Reid, “Lieutenant Reid.  It is good to meet you in person finally.  Your story is one I was hoping to tell at…”

Jordan scowled, “No comment.”  She shook her head as he tried again, “No. Comment.  The people of Janoor III are the ones who need their stories told, Mr. Syracuse.”  Craig opened his mouth for a third try but stopped as her stare intensified.  He made some excuse and turned his attention to his reporter PADD.  Reid caught an approving look from Ford.  A thin smile was her reply.

“Security teams, be on our side and behind – weapons down.”  Jordan motioned for Milton to join her as she gave her orders to Craig and his producer, “You’ll be in the middle of the group as we approach the township.  We’ll let you know once we’ve got a clear scene.”  She held her gaze with the reporter a moment longer, her courage buoyed as Ford stepped to stand at her side, “We need to make sure we all move and work as one on this one, Mr. Syracuse.” Craig gave a mock salute, and his producer groaned.  Reid pursed her lips.  There were button pushers, and there were button pushers.  “Let’s move.”

They walked as one up the hill and into the main entrance to the township, where five guards stood.  Reid saw the twin holsters on each.  The report on the last visit had the guards at two and lightly armed.  This was more. She spoke evenly, “Lieutenant Jordan Reid.  We’re here to check in and see what support we can offer anybody in need.”

The group leader grunted, “You’ll be escorted to the courtyard.  Follow me.”  Reid felt her nerves glitter as she caught a quiet nod from Milton. She pushed forward.  The group walked the dirt pathway and came out into the central area of the township.  They faced a phalanx of armed guards, each pointing their blasters at them.  The leader turned to the Starfleet officers, “You will disarm.  You will have only your medical officers go into the residences and buildings.  Any movement that is not directed or approved will result in you being expelled from our community by force.”  He cocked his head to the side, “Questions?”

Reid replied, “May I notify my commander of these new regulations?”  The man shrugged in indifference.  Jordan moved off to the side to raise the Olympic.  Syracuse followed her.

Milton said, “I am the Chief Counselor onboard the Federation Starship Olympic.  I can escort our medical personnel to the buildings with your assistance.”  The leader motioned a group of guards to search him and the medical team that had gathered near him.  Ford had mimicked a grimace as they roughly searched his body. Finding nothing, they moved on to the others.  The enforcers gave a signal to the leader. They were clear.

Reid stared at Syracuse, “You don’t get to make demands, sir.  You don’t get to think you can storm over there and take over!  He was on the ground, being held by a security officer.  Craig had watched Ford and the medic team move off and away.  He’d shouted and nearly been taken out by the Janoor Cult guards.  Jordan had ordered the security team to pull him back.  ”Are you insane?  They would have killed you!”

He spat back, “Don’t try that shit with me, Reid.  I know your history.  You’ve got a rebel streak in you.  You coulda let me go.  Instead, you’re on a short leash because they don’t trust you, you bit…”

The security guard’s eyes widened, and he pulled the journalist away from Reid hard, “You don’t get to speak to her like that, Mr. Syracuse.”

Craig’s eyes were wide, but he didn’t speak.  Another guard walked over.  Reid waved him off, “Take him to the shuttle.  We’ll sort him out later.”  She saw the producer give her an apologetic look and follow his charge down the hill.

“I want to leave.”  The young man whispered it to Milton, who was scanning him with a medical tricorder.  “They do not let me eat or drink.  It is my third day without anything.”  The boy’s face was pale, and his body shook in spurts, his eyes growing light in color.

Ford patted him on the head and spoke loudly, “I will need to give you an injection for your infection, young man.  Give me a moment.”  He stood and went to his case, where a guard shifted into a more menacing pose. “I need to give that boy something to fight the infection in his stomach.  If I don’t, he could start bleeding from the inside.”  The guard looked to where the boy lay in the fetal position and then to Ford.  He gave an indifferent nod.  Ford returned to the boy, placing the hypospray against his neck as he whispered, “I can’t get you out yet…but this will help you stay alive.”  The boy gave a thankful nod as he lay back down to rest.  Ford continued his work with the medical team from building to building until they finally returned to the gathered team.  He turned to the leader, “We’ll need to resupply and return with antibiotics to help those we treated with another dose.  That should have them healed and back on their feet.”

The man scoffed, “You don’t think we know how to apply the devices you carry?  We are not fools.  Give them to us, and we will do it.”

Ford disagreed, “You need specific training on the ingredients, the positioning, and how to give it to the patient.  It takes two hours to train those who are new to the practice.”

Another staring contest, and he shrugged, “Fine.  You must return in two hours.”

Milton thanked the man, and Reid led them down the path and towards the shuttle.  She turned to him, “You lied.  It doesn’t take two hours.  Fifteen minutes, tops.”

Ford’s look remained severe, “I lied because we’re going to save those people from whatever fate those idiots are preparing them for.  Most of those patients asked us to get them out.  The others were nearly gone and unable to speak for themselves.  Whatever they are doing, it’s going to stop.”

The rear hatch to the shuttle fell open, and Jordan stopped him, “You don’t have to convince me, Doc Ford.”

He took a breath and explained, “I’ve seen my share of prison camps, death camps, and everything in between.  I’ve got a heart that beats for making as many people in this universe survivors and not statistics on a report.  Let’s get back to the Oly.  We’ve got two hours to figure out how to do just that.”