"Captain, we've got to help them out!" The young ensign almost demanded. The captain smiled slowly. He was rather old for a starship captain. In fact, it was his last mission. He knew he was leaving a well-trained crew. Including this ensign. While on their routine assignment, they picked up some faint life signs on the surface of the third planet in this insignificant system. Procedure required they investigate. What they found was a wrecked shuttle of an alien design and five individual, struggling to survive in this, apparently hostile for them, environment. What the ensign advocated was taking them aboard and help them find a more suitable planet. "I'd like to talk to them first, if you don't mind," the captain replied half jokingly. The ensign nodded. * * * "We have no memories prior to the crash, Captain," one of the aliens shook his head sadly. "We've been here for many days now but none of us can recall what happened. We don't even remember who we are…" The captain sipped at his coffee absentmindedly. The five aliens were sitting around the long table in the conference room, discretely monitored by both the senior staff and two security officers. "How about trying to retrieve your shuttle's logs?" The first officer offered after a moment's silence. "Surely, they must contain some data on the place of your origin?" Another alien nodded eagerly. They didn't seem to have any command structure. "We have tried to repair the main computer. It was the first thing we attempted here, besides looking for food and water. Unfortunately, we just don't know how…" "Perhaps you could assist us?" Yet another of their guests spoke up. "You have some marvelous technology…" * * * "I don't understand it, Doctor," the captain said a few hours later, after the aliens had been given a thorough medical check-up. "You claim you can't find any residual signs of trauma in any of them. How's that possible?" The doctor put away his tricorder and looked at the captain. "It's possible the crash took place earlier than what they're telling us. In a year or two, it's conceivable that they would heal completely. I don't know enough about their physiology to be certain. It's curious, however," he continued, "that I have found no physical evidence of the crash. No scars, no old wounds – nothing. It's as if the crash had never occurred or, they must have been well protected." "Some kind of force field? They don't have this kind of technology… and why would they be lying to us?" The captain added, shaking his head. "I want to investigate it closer before I let them on my ship. Thank you, Doctor," he smiled, realizing who he was speaking to. "Let me know if you find anything interesting," he finished and left the sickbay. * * * After a couple of hours of further questioning the mysterious group of aliens, the first officer handed the captain his report. Knowing the old man's habits, he began relying it as soon as he placed the pad on the captain's desk. "They were very surprised, sir," he started. "One of them said it might have been longer than two or three months as they originally claimed. At the beginning, they weren't concerned with keeping records of the passing time as there were more pressing matters – such as survival. And they hoped to be rescued soon. After they realized they weren't going anywhere, they decided it would be pointless to start without knowing the exact date of their crash. We also haven't been able to retrieve any data from their shuttle. The main computer is fused." "I'm not sure if I believe everything they're saying, Captain," the first officer summarized the report with his personal opinion, just as the captain expected. "However, I don't see how they might pose any danger to the ship. I recommend we take them along and see if we can find them a more suitable place to live, as Ensign Cantoro suggests." The Captain smiled at the mention of Ensign Cantoro. He was three months out of the Academy, as young and energetic as any of them, freshmen. Maybe a little strong-willed but that wasn't necessary a vice. Might indicate a brilliant career. "Captain?" The first officer probed. "Oh, I'm sorry, Number One. I drifted for a second," the captain shrugged. He, too, was once a young, promising ensign. "Proceed," he finally agreed. "Sweep the area with long range sensors to see if there are any inhabited planets in the vicinity. If we don't find anything, we'll have to get them back to the Federation space. Five individuals, all male at that, are hardly sufficient to start a colony." * * * "How do you like it here?" Ensign Cantoro wasn't just being nice. The first chance he got, he invited the aliens to the mess hall. As a member of the away team that first encountered them, he felt personally responsible for their well being aboard his ship. Besides, they were the first real aliens he had ever met. Seeing a Vulcan or even a Klingon was nothing compared to the first contact with a previously unknown race. Even if that race currently comprised of only five people. "We were assigned separate rooms…" began one of the group (the ensign seriously considered giving them names since they didn't have any). "Well, of course," Cantoro smiled proudly. "The guest quarters should be comfortable." The aliens looked at each other. Finally, one of them said shyly: "We'd rather stay together… we're not used to not seeing each other." Ensign Cantoro gave them a puzzled look. "You mean you never parted? Not even for hunting?" All the aliens shook their heads in unison. "We've been together since we can remember." * * * "Captain to the bridge!" The hasty voice of the tactical officer left little doubt that the matter was serious. Even more convincing was the sudden jolt that followed. "Status!" The captain demanded, tapping his commbadge already on his way to the nearest turbolift. "We're under attack, sir." * * * "This is a Federation long range patrol ship, we mean you no harm," the captain repeated through the open channel. "Please respond!" "Sir, the energy signature matches that of the alien shuttlecraft," the science officer reported. The captain nodded. "We have five of your people aboard. Please, cease fire!" "They're standing down their weapons," the tactical officer nodded. "They're hailing us." "On screen!" "Why have you abducted our children?" * * * After short negotiations, the group of aliens was handed over to their parents. It turned out that the Lempards, as they called themselves, had a rather particular way of raising their children. Shortly after they were born, they were sent to some barely habitable planet in an automated shuttle, rigged to crash. If they survived a specified period of time, they were taken back home and educated. "This is so… so…" Ensign Cantoro was at a loss for words. "Inhumane!" He blurted out finally. The old captain smiled. "Precisely, Ensign. That's what seeking out new civilizations is all about…"
