It wasn’t a town. It was hardly even a village. Really, it was just a pair of dirt roads that met in the middle of the Lepian countryside, the intersection ringed by a pitiful cluster of uninviting and weary shopfronts that hardly looked like they’d seen a patron in months.

“With the abundance of the modern age, it’s strange anyone would choose this life,” Lieutenant J.G. Jay Anders offered as he stared at tired facades, rusting frames, and stained windows.

“Not everyone has the freedom to choose,” Ensign Seraphine Lunaire noted. “If you’re born out here, your options are limited.” Scattered across the frontier, far from the bustling space lanes of interstellar trade, were many worlds such as this, places forgotten and skipped on by.

“This is the Federation, Seraphine,” Lieutenant J.G. Anders replied. “Opportunity is only a flight away. All you have to do is take the leap.” At least, that was how he saw it.

“Jay, it’s been years since a Starfleet ship visited Lepia IV. And the haulers and merchants that do pass through these places, have you met an egalitarian among them?” Ensign Lunaire asked rhetorically. “They come to these backwater places to exploit them, and if you wanted to hitch a ride, where on this world would you come up with a sum to afford it?” Outside the capital, barter for food stuffs and machining parts remained the chief form of exchange on this agrarian world.

“I suppose…”

“Besides, leaving means abandoning your family and your community,” Ensign Lunaire pointed out. “You hear it in their telling. They rely on each other. They need each other. Even their children work the fields. There’s no time for education, and no time to venture off.”

“You make it sound like an inescapable cycle,” Lieutenant J.G. Anders remarked. But what did he know? He had grown up on Alpha Centauri with endless opportunities at his fingertips.

“It’s why communities like this still exist, even in this day and age,” Ensign Lunaire nodded. “And it’s part of why I took this posting. If we invest in places like this, we can make a real impact on real people’s lives.” The Kennedy, with its aging spaceframe and diplomatic mission profile, was far from the prestigious assignment most of her Academy classmates had pursued, but it had been her top choice. Not only did its small crew and modest science department allow her to be her quirky self, but she was also a true believer in Captain Alleyne and Ambassador Drake’s mission.

Lieutenant J.G. Anders had no reply. The mission profile hadn’t mattered to him in the slightest when he’d taken the post. He had accepted it simply because, unlike a capital ship where he might vanish into mid-level management, the middling Kennedy offered him a chance to stand out as a department head.

In the silence that followed, Ensign Lunaire let her gaze wander past the small square to the diminutive hovels that dotted the hills beyond. “But isn’t there something beautiful in it too?” she asked softly. “The countryside, the work, work with your own hands that carries you forth, it’s all so much more real than tapping away at an LCARS all day.”

Lieutenant J.G. Anders didn’t understand. He saw only exhaustion and hardship etched on their faces, calloused hands from endless toil as they wasted away with no aspiration beyond the need to survive. Under that lens, he would take his LCARS, even on the dullest of days, over the bleak repetition of these people’s lives. He did feel for them, at least, though.

“Ex… excuse… excuse me…” came a timid voice from behind them.

The pair turned to see a frail young woman standing there in tattered coveralls. She looked about twenty, just a few years younger than Ensign Lunaire, but the resemblance ended there. Where Ensign Lunaire’s complexion was fair and her eyes were bright with curiosity, this girl’s skin was worn and sun-darkened, her gaze heavy with fatigue. And as they stared at her, there was something more too. She looked sickly and emaciated, more than one would expect even from the toil of this place.

“Are you…” the young woman stuttered, as if struggling to continue. “Are you from the Starfleet ship?”

“Yes,” Ensign Lunaire smiled gently and reassuringly. “Yes, we are.”

“I… we… we need your help.”