“Captain, I’m getting multiple distress calls from Colony 842534…they report they came under attack and multiple settlers were taken.  They’re working to identify injured.”  Oscar Reede’s hand shook as he tapped at the console.  Hearing the voices in his ear was hard.  The sounds of explosions, fire, and shouts of fear and confusion echoed in the background as the beleaguered civilian was reporting what was being shouted at him.  Reede couldn’t imagine.

Wren glanced up from the center chair.  She wondered how much this would be repeated between the three sectors they identified that held larger numbers of connections.  Her anger with Patra and his cronies remained effervescent.  The darkness that resided in his heart knew no bounds – and she would never understand the depths to which he had fallen.  She checked the clock.  They were five minutes out.  “Alert sickbay…Pearce, get a team together.” The security and tactical chief was already headed to the turbolift doors and gave her a wave as she stepped inside.  Walton turned to her XO, “Park – pull engineering in and evaluate what they might need long term.”  The captain turned back to the screen as the clock and the Mackenzie hurtled forward.

Doctor Henry Longfellow stood awkwardly on the transporter pad as the security team finished checking their equipment.  No matter the crew, the command, or the officer, there was always a small sense of nervousness he experienced hitting the ground running with a security detail at his back.  He recognized the need for them.  He just hated they were needed in moments like these.

Ensign Hiro stood beside him, quietly working through the triage steps she had practiced repeatedly.  Her professional demeanor was serious and focused, and the nursing staff had started to wonder if something was wrong with her.  She had heard them talking and smiled when Longfellow told them her perfection and focus in sickbay was for a reason and that she took the balance of lives in her hands very seriously.  She had invited them all out to share a table in the medical lounge later that week, and the look on their faces had been priceless.  She glanced up as the security team joined them on the pad.  The transporter officer called out a countdown.

And then the bright light and the harmony of music consumed them, flinging them off the ship and straight down through the atmosphere, and with a gentle fade of bright white, they were whole again.  And in the middle of hell.  A second team of medical officers and crew landed feet from them.  Longfellow tossed his case to one of them, “Start triage!”  He snapped out his tricorder and went quickly to the bodies that were lying on the ground.  A quick scan revealed they were still alive.  He tapped at his PADD and slid it to the ground.

They had worked out a system of triage in this situation.  Each officer had a tricorder and a PADD.  A modified communications badge was attached to the patient. It broadcasted the triaged date to the Triagte lead.  The patient would be evaluated and updated on the severity of the condition on the priority list.  That list was updated in real-time with the Triage Lead, who had each patient mapped and then assigned to the triage runners who would either transport them to the ship or move them to the medical tents that had sprung up at the last minute.  Scenarios like this one moved quickly, and Longfellow was grateful for his team and how they adapted to his training model. 

Hiro was fifteen feet away with a young boy and a broken arm.  She spoke quietly to him as she gently worked to place the unit over his arm so that it could begin working.  He watched her eyes as she carefully tapped at the unit, engaging the healing process. “There.  You will get better.”

The boy remained fixed on her, “You are beautiful.”

She smiled.  He looked to be no more than five or six years old.  She gave him a thankful bow and moved on.   It took two hours to make sense of the madness that had been propagated upon the people of this planet.

Commander Park made notes on her PADD as she walked with Chief Miados.  The engineer was working through what help the community would need, “We’re going to need to fabricate a generator that can operate in this environment.  I can get Crawford to work on it.  She loves a good construction project.”

Park asked, “She doing alright?”

Miados sighed.  What was the truth?  “She’s struggling.  I kept her on the ship so she didn’t have to worry about looking over her shoulder down here.  I like her, and she’s competent…she’s got some things to learn before we start talking about her being something other than just ok.”  The thought had crossed her mind that if Crawford’s double hadn’t been a part of this scenario’s equation, she might have been performing better than she was currently.  “We’ll work through it…it ain’t easy, Commander.”

“You know why they came for us?”  The colony leader sat in the chair at the head of the table, surrounded on both sides by officials.  

Chief Diplomatic Officer Charlie Hargraves clasped his hands together, “Given the names you submitted as missing, we’re fairly certain we know why.”  He explained Patra, the Syndicate, and the late blooming connection of the True Way.  “We’re going to get your people back, Governor.  They’re our people, too.”

The man stood from his chair, as did the rest of his cabinet.  “You will bring them back.  And when you return, we will discuss our membership with you and your…Federation.”  The sound of their boots clattering echoed as they filed out of the room.  

The silence enveloped the stone building, and Charlie reluctantly stood from his chair.  He turned and groaned at the sight of his captain, Wren Walton, “How long were you standing there?”

She chuckled, “Long enough to see them walk out on you.”  She walked with him as he joined her and headed to the exit, “We’re going to find them.  The trouble is keeping them in our good graces.”

Hargraves pushed through the door and into the cool air, “I’ve got a better arsenal these days now that real people are running Diplomatic Operations.  With engineering’s help, we can get them back on their feet and stable.  The rest will come in a week or two with the next shipment I’ve put in for – the reality of what these folks are facing is starting to register back home…a little.”

They reached the triage area, and Longfellow tapped at his PADD, “They kidnapped five, all of them connected to crew on the Mackenzie.  Science has a track, and tactical’s gamed out a predictive track.”

Walton mused, “That’s good news.  Tell me you have some more of that good news.”

Longfellow smiled, and she frowned.  “The USS Daedalue just arrived in orbit…and Captain Dread has nearly finished her repairs.”

She returned the smile, “Then I suggest we go find us some Syndicate and get our friends.  Leave a medical and security detail behind.  Get everyone else back to Mackenzie.”  She glanced skyward as the transporter beam blinded her.  

They were going hunting.