The bridge was silent, and the only noise flickering in the background was ambient, as the consoles beeped and whirred.  Ensign Lita Morrison was turned, facing the captain in the center chair.  “The tests are conclusive – they did something to the planet.  Either it was a gross error on their part or it was intentional – to create a planet whose defense was baked into the environment.”

Captain Bradley sat in the center chair, staring at the viewscreen.  He wondered, “Do you think they would tell us the truth if we asked?”  The planet continued to turn on the screen, indifferent to his question.  

Morrison replied, “They’ve given us the truth before, as messy as it was.”  She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the truth, given the twisted nature of the story so far.  “We do have to ask, don’t we, sir?”

He answered with a slow nod. “Whether I want to or not doesn’t enter into it.  We need an answer, even if it’s a half-truth.  We can work with it and determine its veracity.”  He remained in his seat, eyes locked on the screen.  “Let’s get this over with.  Ensign Bertrand, open hailing frequencies.”

A moment later, the screen blinked, and Lord Supreme Thomas stared back, annoyed.  “What do you want now?  I thought you were leaving.”

Samson stood and walked towards the screen, “Lord Supreme – before we leave, we need to ask some questions.  You did not originate from this place, did you?”

The eyes of the Lord Supreme narrowed, “We originated from another system, yes.  This has been our home for many generations.  What is your point?”

Bradley had been working out an idea in his head.  “Your intelligence in science matters rivals ours – you’ve managed to outpace us, even.”  He gestured to Morrison, “But I think your hubris outpaces ours, too.  At last, the 2400 version of us.  My science chief did some work on the planet, and on you, not to mention the body of Doctor Morgan.”  He paused for a moment, his mind putting the last pieces of his idea together.  “You did something to this planet…or you did something that then did something to this planet.”  He revealed what they had found with Morgan’s body and the readings from when the Lord Supreme’s people had made a rare surface visit to intimidate the Starfleet crew.  “But I don’t think you anticipated what would happen.  I don’t think you knew until it was too late.”

Thomas had grown more flushed in his face the longer the captain had spoken.  When Bradley had finished speaking, the Lord Supreme spat out, “If only you hadn’t put on those stupid suits.  We would have had you in our clutches…and we could have taken your ship and its sickbay to treat us…and we could have flown back to the stars.”

Samson felt his stomach turn at the man’s words.  “There is no cure for your affliction, Lord Supreme.  The treatment regimen would be incredibly arduous and painful.”

“But we would have been back in space where we belong.  Our home was fading when we left.  We found this planet by luck.  But we knew people would come to take it from us.  So we made our own Sentinel program.  One that was woven into the very plants that grew from the dirt.”  He paused, a lapse of reflection creeping in, “Your point about our hubris is true.  We were desperate for a way to protect ourselves from invaders.  When Doctor Morgan’s group arrived, we had our test subjects.”

The captain asked, “Did they ever know what you had truly done to them?  That you had locked them here in your grasp?  That they could never leave?”

“No.  Our Sentinel program was hard to detect with their limited technology.  Our selling them on their own Sentinel program was too easy – they viewed us as we viewed them.  They imagined they could trick us to death, when we were already dead by our own hands.”

Samson shook his head.  His idea had never approached the level Thomas had revealed.  There were only a few things left to do.  He spoke directly to Thomas, his voice firm, “We will report all this to Montana Station, and the word will go out about this place and the risk it holds.  Navigational and warning buoys will be placed in and around this sector.  They will be checked to ensure they are still operating.  Any attempt to sabotage or destroy them will bring their own consequences.”

“We are aware of your people’s track record in the rimward, brief as it has been.”

“We’re not going anywhere soon, Lord Supreme.  You have your warning, and we have our duty.”

Thomas replied, “You should know, we will die of our creation within the year.  It is a certainty.”

Samson shook his head, “That is your consequence to bear.  We will send a ship every month to ensure your compliance.  Your life is yours to live on P82343.  Good luck, Lord Supreme.  Zephyr, out.”  The man looked as if he was about to say something more, then sat back in his chair, resigned to his fate.  The channel closed.  The bridge returned to silence.  Captain Bradley returned to his chair, eyeing it, but not sitting.  The whole situation bothered him, and it wasn’t easy to shake off the implications of what had happened on the planet.  He spoke to Kondo tactical, “Have the XO handle the buoys and message to Montana Station.  You have the CONN.”  With that, he walked to his ready room, and the door closed behind him.

He stood in the silent repose of the small room, unsure of what to feel.  Grief at the loss of life?  Judgement at the ego that had killed everyone?  Fury at the mad scientists who had seen no reason to limit their tests?  Or was it all three, he wondered.