“Whatever changed, it’s getting desperate down there.  It started as a hunger strike, but it’s become something worse.”  Sergio Clemente sat in the briefing room, a PADD in one hand.  “Commander Ford’s report is pretty stark.  Whatever we do, we need to do it quickly.  We’ve reviewed our options – we can lock onto most of the people in the township, but some signals are getting scrambled inside certain buildings.  We would need to tag them manually.  Given the ever-changing feelings they have for us…I’m not sure they’d be so cavalier this next time.”

Jordan Reid added, “Our embedded reporter didn’t help matters by trying to push through our group and get into the township.  He’s been sidelined pending your review,” she gestured to Captain Peter Crawford.

Pete grumbled, “He’s been making many friends recently.”  He was about to suggest an idea when his badge went off. 

“Captain to the bridge!  We’re registering blaster fire and loss of life signs in the township!”

They all stood and moved through the door as Crawford ordered in response, “Transport as many as you can to sickbay!  Activate the Hazard team and transport them down immediately.”  As he turned the corner, the bridge doors were yards away, and he tapped his badge, “Emergency Sickbay teams for immediate transport to the Township!”

He passed through the doors and moved to the center of the bridge, “Report!”

Presley Atega at communications was furiously tapping at her console, “Sickbay reports we’ve got one hundred survivors.  The Hazard Team is arriving on site and engaged in action.  Medical teams are working on the edges of the situation to address those they can get to.  Current sensor readings show 100 casualties, 100 still alive, and 100 unknown.”  As she read from her screens, she reported, “Transporters can lock onto at least fifty more and are engaging.”  Reid and Dread left the bridge and headed for sickbay.

Peter remained standing, “Status.”  His voice was subdued.  Whatever had happened, it had happened fast.

Atega replied, “50 alive but unable to lock on.  Medical teams are assembling in sickbay and launching two shuttles.  The Hazard Team reports they’ve stunned half the guards and are working towards the larger building.  Security teams are following behind them and taking the offenders into custody.”  A moment later, “They’ve entered the main building.”  She waited as the voices in her earpiece continued to report.  She gasped, “Captain…they’ve made it into the basement.  They’ve found bodies.”  She shook her head, “They believe they’ve found the missing one hundred.”

Crawford felt his stomach drop.  The bridge lapsed into silence.  The reports continued.  Of the 450 or so that had remained, 200 had died.  The remaining were alive.  Most were injured and in need of critical care.  He found his voice, “Advise JAG, we’ll need to sit down and speak with the Janoor III government immediately.  Loop in the Mack’s JAG and brief their security teams.”  He returned to the center chair and sighed with a long sigh, “Not how I wanted this to end.”

“The Township has been cleared.”  Captain Helena Dread sat in the chair across from her captain in his ready room.  She could see he was exhausted.  “The Janoor III government has asked that we level the structures to complete the process of ensuring nobody will live there again.”

Crawford gave a distracted nod.  The bodies had been identified.  Relatives contacted.  Services had been held most of the day, and more were planned tomorrow.  They continued medical and engineering work with the USS Mackenzie in the other populated centers on Janoor III.  Peter tapped out the last details on his report and saved it.  “I had hoped we could have saved more, Helena.”  His voice was quiet, but his mind screamed with the rage of the victims and the blood that had been needlessly spilled.  “We keep trying to put Janoor III back together…and the cracks just…wouldn’t heal.  They rotted.”  He scoffed and sat back in his chair.

Dread thought about his words.  He wasn’t wrong.  She wondered what the rest of the crew was feeling.  She contemplated, “We need a shindig.”

Peter stared at her, “A what?”

“A time to gather and celebrate.  I know we don’t have much to celebrate…but we gotta find something to be happy about.  I’m a doctor.  I know when people are hurting, Pete.  Sometimes, the best medicine is some joy we grab onto in the corner of what feels like an overwhelming darkness.  An Old Earth expression was the light at the end of the tunnel.  We need to find that light.”  She sat forward, “Milty’s probably got a few ideas.”  He gave her a nod, and she was on her way.

Crawford turned to stare out the large windows at the far side of his ready room.  They had sacrificed.  They had lost.  They had failed.  He paused his thoughts.  Yet they had saved many, some from the brink of death.  Janoor III was at peace, and they were more willing to deal and work with Starfleet than ever.  Maybe she was right.  There was a light at the end…and it felt like it was getting brighter the more he thought about it.  A quiet smile crossed his lips as he tapped at his console on the desk.

“Captain’s log, Stardate 5.10.2401.  Hope remains as we close out our Mission here at Janoor III.  We’ve made it through the tunnel and found the light.”  He picked up a PADD and dove into his log, “Here’s the final report for Janoor III….”