“Director Walker-Halsey, you have a competing theory?”  Captain Wren Walton asked as she sat across the table from the Human-Vulcan Director of Civilian Science Operations for the Cushing.

Theodora tapped at her PADD, sending the details of her report to the group gathered around the briefing room table on the Franklin D. Roosevelt.  “Our science teams have been poring over the data from the first colonist group. From what we can gather, there were three outliers among the group that were last-minute additions.  Nobody has verified how they found their way aboard the colony ship or why they were allowed onboard.  We’ve cross-checked the three through various systems over the last hour. We believe they were assassins of some kind, possibly for hire.”

Walton’s mouth dropped as she read and listened.  “They were pretty terrible assassins, then.”

“Not entirely, Captain Walton.  We confirmed your initial research – everyone from the original colony died within ten years of returning to proper Federation space.  If the intention was assassination, they accomplished their objective, however gruesome.  The question you’re asking is was it their intent for it to take ten years…and the answer we think is no.” She gestured to the large screen at the front of the room, “Lieutenant Mika was correct in his initial reading of the situation – it was manufactured.  The original scope of the first group was to experiment with methods to protect against alien diseases or viruses.  However, we think the three latecomers were not motivated in that way.  We may never know if they were assassins who mixed the recipe wrong or if they were intent on sabotaging this groundbreaking work.”

Mika’s turn came as he continued, “Whatever they created, it’s long-lasting and hard to kill.  Whatever made them leave isn’t in any official records.  The three interlopers were each murdered in the three years after the departure.  Those cases were never solved. Lots of theories there as well.  Too many.  Which leads us to today.”

Theodora picked up the last of the trails, “ Several possibilities exist. The new colonists are aware of the possible infection and intend to perfect it in some kind of scheme to elevate the infection as a possible biological weapon. In which case, we would be duty-bound to intervene and prevent them from completing this scenario.”  She scrolled through her PADD, “Possibility number two is that they do not know the extent of the infection and will soon be exposed, and the damage will be irreversible and unstoppable.”

Crawford interjected, “I suppose there is a third possibility?”

“There is, but it is not reasonable or rational.  I hesitate to bring it forward.”

“Captain to the bridge.”

Crawford stood, “Hold that thought.”

He stepped onto the bridge, followed by senior staff and others, “Report.”

“The colonists’ leader is hailing us and is requesting to speak with you and only you.”

Peter moved to the center chair, “Then let’s give them their wish.  On screen.”

The screen flickered for a moment before Lenaso’s face appeared.  “Captain Crawford.  I thought you were leaving.”

“We were, but your case and the case of this colony’s history have given us pause in leaving so quickly.  I don’t suppose you’d like to clear some of this up?”

Lenaso’s face remained impassive for a few moments before relaxing, a quiet smile, almost serene, filling his face.  “Well, it has already begun, so perhaps it is best to tell you now.  We came here looking to close out our time in the universe.  We had heard stories of the incredible research they had done and the unexpected error that had come out of it all.  It’s simple really – we wanted to choose when.”

Crawford asked, “You…this was intentional.  You wanted to…schedule your death?”

“We are all healthy and expect to live the next ten years secure in knowing the time remains.  It is a comfort knowing when the bell will toll.  It helps us.”

Peter’s face fell, and his heart broke as he replied, “You knew we would have stopped you if we knew the truth.”

“You Federation Starfleet types.  You are always so predicta…arg…ag..what the hell.”

Crawford stood from the chair, “Lenaso? What’s going on?”

The man’s face was pained, and his eyes wide in fear.  “I’m…it hurts…”  He looked past the camera and shook his head, “It’s all of us…something went wrong with the…ugh.  Gods above…what is…”  The screen went blank.

Peter moved quickly, “Emergency medical teams in containment suits to the surface!”