“You think they wanted us?”  Larissa Trow was the mayor of the township they had evacuated and was in disbelief that they would be anything the Borg wanted.  “We’re not technologically advanced or really anything special.  We lost twenty last winter to the flu…and it put half the town in intensive care.  We’re not a very hardy people, Captain.”

Wren Walton understood.  Initial impressions of the Nama people hadn’t been very impressive.  The colony was small and had always been small – birth rates were low, and the plague of disease and infection were a regular occurrence.  “How long have you been there?” she asked.

Trow thought momentarily, “We recently began to track our history…we were able to track back at least five or six generations…but it could have been longer.”

Doctor Henry Longfellow had been listening to the conversation while reading through the updating reports on the ongoing medical scans and exams taking place in the three cargo bays, “We’ve had a hard time understanding how you came to this planet or even the Delta Quadrant…you’ve got many similarities to the human genome, but there are enough differences to suggest something else.”  His concerns were growing the more he learned about the Nama.  There was a thread of intentionality in their existence that bothered him.

Trow shrugged a deep sadness pooling in her eyes.  “We do not know how we came to be.  You would think we’d have a creation story or a myth that would explain it in metaphor…it is something we have always searched for…but never found in ourselves or around our colony.  We just… came to be.  It is the best answer we’ve come up with.”

Walton put her hand on Trow’s shoulder, “We’re headed back to the colony to check on its status.  I’ve received your request for asylum and transport back to the Alpha Quadrant…I have our Chief Diplomatic Officer working on it.”  The young woman thanked her and walked back to her people.  Wren turned to Longfellow, “Something’s got you bothered, Doc.”

He shook his head, “I can’t quantify…but I can qualify it. Something feels…off.  They shouldn’t have survived this long…five generations?  With our data so far, they should have died off ages ago…but they keep going bit by bit.  We looked at their census data…they’ve never made it over six hundred people in the colony.”  He showed her the PADD with his analysis, “I need to investigate more.”

Her face tightened, “Find us some answers, doc.”

“Approaching the Nama colony.”  Castillo had taken a few hours off the helm.  It had been helpful to take a shower and get some rest.  The Borg were still out there, but she felt she could face them again.  The Mackenzie slid into position.

Thasaz gasped as the sensors began their work, “Captain…I’m unable to detect the colony.”  She ran the scans again and somberly reported, “The colony site..is gone.”

Wren stood from the center chair, “On screen.”  The screen showed a distant view of the site. Once a thriving township, a gaping maw now stood in its place.  “Zoom and enhance.”  She knew what she was going to see but had no choice.  They needed to verify what had happened here.  The cameras pulled them closer until the true extent of the damage became clear.  “They…scraped it.”

At science, Thasaz concurred, “Sensors are detecting that it was just lifted wholesale from the ground.  This happened with the first encounters with the Borg on the Enterprise.”  The image on the screen was eerily similar to the photos from the reports she had spent so much time reviewing recently.

Walton stood abruptly, “Commander Park, you have the CONN.  Woodward, with me.”  The crew watched the two vanish behind the closing doors of the turbolift.  They initially wondered why and then realized what the captain would have to do.  Break the news to their new friends.

“Heavens.” Larissa Trow had fallen back in a chair in the briefing room as the images of her former home were displayed on the screen.  “They…didn’t leave anything behind, did they?”  

Walton shook her head, “We have our Hazard and Science teams doing an initial investigation on site, but there’s nothing left. I’m truly sorry.”  Woodward sat next to the woman.  They sat in silence for several minutes.

Trow frowned, “There was…something.”  She pointed to the book she had brought, “One of our more… eccentric citizens has had this conspiracy theory that we came not from somewhere, but from someone.”  She held up her hands, “We long dismissed it and humor him mostly these days.  The book has lots of his theories written out.  It goes off on plenty of tangents.  Believe me…I had to read it.  But there’s a part where…,”  she slid it off the table. She flipped through the pages until she landed on what she sought, “…here.  It describes a place where we began.  I could never make sense of it…maybe you can?”

Wren took the book and examined the open pages, trying to make sense of the scribbled words, figures, and numbers.  She tapped her badge, “Commander Thasaz, briefing room one.”  She traced the errant drawings, “It’s been a bit since I’ve worked a science rotation, but I’m wondering about these circles and these numbers.”  Woodward glanced at them from her seat and raised her eyebrows.  They signified something.

The door slid open, and the chief science officer barreled through the door, expectant.  Walton handed her the open book without giving her a clue.  

Thasaz murmured, “I do enjoy a mystery.”  Her eyes examined the details. She muttered under her breath as she turned the book around a few times and back again until she concluded, “It’s a coordinate map…a rough one, but it indicates a location on a planet.”  She handed the book back to Walton and waited silently, and the stares were shared among the gathering.    Thasaz asked in confusion, “What?”

On the bridge, Thasaz was amused and annoyed.  “You’d have to know what it was you were looking for and the general location even to have a chance at detecting it…but there’s a small outbuilding there along with what the computer thinks is a small underground facility with minimal power.”

Park scoffed, “How did the Borg miss it?”  She wasn’t sure what to think.  There was something about this group of people that had the Borg on a tear.  The answers were fleeting, and the questions gnawed at her patience.

Standing behind the science station, Walton explained, “The Borg knew where the Nama people were; they’ve mapped and observed them.  They’re a systematic bunch of bastards – very linear when it comes to what they want and how to get it.”

At communications, Reede perked up as his brain made the connection, “They lack intellectual curiosity.  They don’t see the need to look beyond the center of the target.”

Wren mused, “They missed the forest for the trees…and so did we.  Commander Thasaz put an away team together.  If we get a hint of the Sphere, we will pull you out and run away.”  Thasaz didn’t argue with that point.

“How old is this place?”  Chief of Security Seraphina Pearce had kicked down the rotted wooden door and cleared the area inside.  She decided it smelled as if death had taken up residence and planted a garden.

Thasaz had her tricorder out and scanned as she went, “Over one thousand years old.”  She worked her way through what once were hallways to a sunken landing, “And I think…there’s more below here.”  She scanned around the area, “Reading minimal power sources…,”  she raised her eyebrows as a beeping alarm rang from the device, “…and something that resembles a lifesign?”  Checking again she shook her head in disbelief, “One limited lifesign.”

Doctor Henry Longfellow grumbled as he walked gingerly through the decaying building, “I’m going to need to innoculate all of us against a long list of diseases when we get back to the Mack.”  He was making a list on his PADD, “This place resembles a wildland more likely to kill you then create you.”  He’d read the notes from the book and found it disconcerting.  If the theory was true, the implications for the future of the Nama people were significant.

Thasaz watched as the security team worked to clear the landing, “Come doctor, where is your sense of adventure, of discovery?  This could be the next big thing to feature in that journal you’re always reading,..The Olympic Journal?”

Henry grumbled, “Both of those things are resting comfortably back on the Mackenzie, thankyouverymuch.  As for the Journal – the editor in chief and I have had some…disagreements.  The articles remain compelling even if she does not.”

The security team announced the landing was clear and they’d forced the door open.  A long dusty stairwell awaited them.  Thasaz motioned him forward, “Come along, Doctor Longfellow…”

He stared her down and lightly rolled his eyes, “Very well.  I do not have to enjoy it.”

She retorted, “I would expect nothing less.”