Roosevelt Station, Commander’s Office

“Yes, Hurk, I know there’s profit in the Valoris, but that doesn’t change that fact that it’s Lagashi space,” Commander Eden Seraphina Starling-Enigma said to the Ferengi on the wall-mounted screen. “So if Lagashi patrols found you carrying contraband, which Ketracel White definitely is, you’ll have to surrender your cargo under local law. I’m sorry, but Starfleet isn’t going to interfere in the trade laws of a Federation member world.”

“Ice 7 is legal in Ferengi and Kzinti space! If the only trade route that didn’t pass through the First Federation or the Breen wasn’t Lagashi…”

“Then you could trade in highly-addictive narcotics at your leisure. But, Hurk, I’m afraid we don’t live in that galaxy. Surrender your cargo to the Lagashi patrol and go home, Hurk. There’s no help coming.”

Hurk glared, gritting his sharpened teeth. “Starfleet Command will hear…”

Then he was gone, and on the screen was a single character. Shining, green, and making no attempt to explain itself.

Omega.

Last Year

Earth, Starfleet Command

Eden walked alongside the great bulk of Admiral Pinna, arms folded behind her back. The Rish admiral’s arms, of course, did not fold – while Rish fingers were shockingly agile, their arms were still quite short compared to the bulk of their theropod bodies.

The green space had been cleared for them to talk, with no one listening in. It was an eerie sight in the usually-crowded space – moreso, perhaps, for Eden, so used to a visit to Command immersing her in the emotions of others so deeply it was sometimes a struggle to find her own.

“Omega,” Eden said softly. “I have to admit, Admiral, that after the childhood I had, I wasn’t sure Starfleet had anything left to surprise me.”

The Rish let out the throaty, multitonal growl that Eden had long ago learned was Rish laughter. “Always some new secret to hunt, little one, and each with a new way to learn to track. Thankfully, this is one we have become quite skilled at sniffing out.”

“Lucky, that,” Eden murmured. “One molecule would end a culture.”

“You’ll have training in containing Omega before you leave for Roosevelt,” Pinna said. “They will tell you that, when it is found, eliminating it becomes your very first priority, and keeping knowledge of it from anyone without clearance a very close second. Some new captains do not understand this, and we only have to hope that they will never encounter it. When Omega is detected, those are your only priorities. Neither peace nor prosperity nor the Prime Directive is a consideration in the face of Omega.” The Rish’s amber eyes sparked with a strange pleasure. For some reason, every Rish Eden had ever met had taken joy in finding alliterative phrases in humanoid languages.

“I’m scheduled for the first training later today,” Eden said.

“Go rest, then, little one. Learn well.”

Now

Roosevelt Station, Commander’s Office

“Computer, clear Omega warning from my screen. Authorization Enigma Tango Seven Alpha Alpha. Same auhthorization, clear it from all monitors on the station and resume normal operations, filtering away any hints of Omega from any eyes but mine.”

The screen on her wall and the PADD in her hand both returned to normal, though Hurk was gone. Just as well – Eden no longer had time for him.

The Omega was on Garen Minos, the twin to Roosevelt on the other side of the Breen border, and under the surface in a set of catacombs. Eden could infiltrate that easily enough, but a distraction would be helpful. She searched the records of shipments to the asteroid.

After a few moments, she found what she needed. Shipment of archaeological artifacts from Therbia, carried by a Tzenkethi independent trader to Garen Minos.

She looked up. “Enigma to Tek. Rally the Hazard Team to the main shuttlebay. Mission in ten minutes, brief in flight.”

The gruff voice of the Hazard Team’s training officer came through the room’s speakers. “Anyone besides core Team coming? You know we don’t like babysitting.”

“You’re going with the team, Crunkin,” Eden said, using the Tellarite’s first name. “And I’m in as well. Captain’s prerogative.”

She could almost hear Tek’s frustration in the pause before his answer. The Hazard Team existed so that the station’s commander and her senior staff wouldn’t need to go on dangerous missions. She would by her very presence undermine his authority. And he respected her too much not to argue this point with her.

But the tone in her voice apparently got through to him that her mind wasn’t changing and she didn’t have time for cultural rituals. “Aye, Commander, though we’ll talk about this later.”

“I’ll look forward to it.” Assuming there is a later. “I’ll meet you in the shuttlebay.”

Now

USS Lyra

En Route to Garen Minos

“So… you have us packed in here,” Lieutenant Crunkin Tek growled from his place in the standing room only converted cargo bay of the runabout. “Stealth mission. Crossing the border, so it makes sense. But what are we doing, Commander?”

“Proper respect to Commander Enigma,” Ensign Shi Huifang, one of Roosevelt’s usual shuttle pilots and primary pilot for the Hazard Team called back through the open door to the cockpit.

“This is respect, and don’t you forget it,” Tek responded. “I don’t argue, she’ll think I’m not listening.”

“I know you’re listening, Lieutenant,” Eden said before addressing the group. “There will be two missions once we arrive. The Hazard Team will beam to the lower transporter pad, secure it, and proceed into the Breen facility. You’ll be carrying these.” She tossed a rifle to Tek, who gazed at it in surprise.

“Dominion weapons?”
“I’ve replicated you environmental gear suited to a well-funded pirate force. Try to leave no witnesses, and to generally make the kind of mess you’d expect pirates to make. You’ll head to the waypoint marked on your tricorders. It’s a science lab with an attached cargo bay. In one of those two chambers, you will find a shipment of artifacts. Try to recover all you can, but especially do not leave without the pyramid marked with ancient Bajoran writing.”

“Skipper,” said Lieutenant Alice Ray, the astrobiologist with better marksmanship scores than most security officers. “We’re doing a false flag operation behind Breen lines. That’s near enough to illegal that I have to ask… are we doing this for museum pieces?”

It’s probably worse that they’re doing it to keep the Breen busy. “No. It’s believed that the pyramid may be a map to a lost Bajoran Orb. And given what those are capable of in the wrong hands…”

Ray shook her head. “No more explanation needed, Commander.”

“But what’s the other mission?” Tek looked at her, dark eyes suspicious.

No, she realized, worse than suspicious. Worried.

“I have a personal mission in the caves near the surface,” Eden said. “Classified work.”

“General Orders say…” Shi began.

“I’m aware, Ensign. You can all file complaints when we get home safe. I honestly hope you do.”

“And tell me why I shouldn’t send a bodyguard with you?” Tek said.

“Because I’ll countermand that order, and Admiral Beckett will likely want to talk with anyone who pushes it.” Eden steeled herself against the emotions rising from Tek – hurt, betrayal. She had undermined him in the most complete way she could without specifically trying to. But this was not something she could afford to have him push.

Tek looked to the others, face showing no sign of what lurked beneath the surface. “Standard pairs. Let’s give the layout of the station a look… it’s not going to match home.”

Garen Minos

Subsurface Caves

As the last hum of the transporter faded, Eden Enigma opened her eyes. Through the visor of her armor – the suit she’d worn during her exchange tour in the Lagashi military during the Valeris crisis – she could see the dark rock of the cave. Granite, low in silica, the HUD connected to her tricorder informed her. “Authorization Enigma Tango Six Alpha Alpha. Access Omega Directive routines,” Eden said, and the armor transmitted the code to her tricorder, which beeped its acceptance.

“Interface with pathfinding routine, and show the quickest safe path to the Omega molecule.” The path lit up on her visor, and she started down it.

There was no atmosphere in the cave, and she was reliant on her armor’s oxygen reserve and recycling systems. She counted herself lucky for that – the lack of air kept her from shedding heat by convection, and meant this place was just as deadly for the Breen as for herself. The silence was absolute apart from the sound of her breathing, which she focused on keeping steady, eyes on the path ahead. She had to, in this silence, trust her tricorder to inform her of danger – she would never hear a Breen, or worse, coming, and her empathic sense was useless in detecting the alien minds of her enemies.

There it was. The Omega molecule was huge, large enough to be seen with the naked eye, its light filling the chamber. It was placed against an artificial construction that was bored into the wall. A maintenance shaft for the Breen base’s Long Shaft turbolift, most likely.

Eden knelt, unclipped the resonance chamber from a hook at her hip, and set to work. She placed the chamber around the molecule and closed it, then started the scan. Odd. It’s in a state of decay, but… slower. Likely still days from criticality. She made a note to find a way to get that data to someone who could do something with it.

Just as the scan was finishing, Eden’s helmet beeped a warning and flashed an indicator at the right edge of her peripheral vision. Two Breen.

She rose, turned, drew her Dominion rifle from her back just in time for the Breen to turn the corner. Maintenance techs, from the markings on their coldsuits, likely here to inspect the odd readings in the cave.

But Breen soldiers were soldiers and slavers first, regardless of their day-to-day work. Eden fired before they finished turning, the sphere of polaron energy punching a hole in the armor of one of the two. As he fell, a haze of sublimating methane rising from that hole, the other drew a disruptor.

Eden dove out of the way of his first shot, taking cover behind a boulder. Directed energy weapons will further destabilize the Omega. I have to end this quickly. Another disruptor blast seared a line across her cover, and Eden waited for the light of the beam to fade before looking past the stone.

The tiny part of the Breen’s helmet – about four square inches – visible above the rubble he hid behind would have required immense luck to hit quickly for most Starfleet shooters. But Eden Enigma had served two years as sniper for the Hazard Team on Sovereign, and she’d spent most of that time in intense fighting with the Breen. She knew them as well as any humanoid could, and very few in the quadrant could outshoot her. She raised her rifle, sighted in.

Fired.

In utter silence, the Breen fell, and Eden returned to her task. Their invisibility to her empathy made Breen more dangerous, but not feeling their deaths made them far easier to kill.

When the chamber finished neutralizing the Omega molecule, she tapped the sensitive pad at her temple. “Enigma to Lyra. One to beam up.”

“Aye, Commander,” came Shi’s voice. “And you’ll want to see what Tek and the others brought back when you get here.”

Then the transporter took her.

USS Lyra

En Route to Roosevelt Station

Eden stepped off the transporter pad, unclipping and removing her helmet in the same well-trained motion before shaking her head to loosen her long hair. “So… what did you find?”

Tek didn’t look up from the artifact he was gazing at. “Digs says it’s old, whatever it is. And that you’d know the iconography.

Petty Officer Sutok, known on the Hazard Team as “Digs” for his day job in the science labs and specialty in ancient things, did meet her eyes. Under a deep layer of Vulcan calm, Eden felt the tiny flame of excitement and worry in equal measures. “This is the oldest humanoid artifact I have ever seen, Commander, and its origin is… troubling… in multiple ways.”

Eden held the Vulcan’s gaze. “Explain.”

“The artifact shows evidence of pitting consistent with unique radiation patterns from hundreds of millennia of exposure to the Cardassian sun,” Sutok replied. “As for why such a thing being on a Cardassian world would be troubling, I think it is best you see it.”

Eden knelt before the low table on which the artifacts rested. Two crystals of benamite – likely what the Breen had bought the lot to win. A long chain with the insignia of a Klingon house long dead on a medallion. A stone pyramid, ten centimeters tall, with intricate Bajoran script carved into it. And a disk of unidentifiable metal with a language Eden did not recognize etched in precise, thin characters. The insignia at the disk’s center, though Eden knew immediately, even without the colors it usually bore.

Two twisted teardrops, one far longer than the other, circling a flame with no apparent fuel.

“Tkon,” Eden whispered. “Any luck with the translator?”

“A little,” Sutok replied. “The disk is a key to open a distant Tkon facility. It appears it was removed from a larger relic which may have been either a star map to the facility or Mr. Tek’s grandmother’s rusted oats recipe.”

“No ancient star-mover wrote my grandma’s recipe. It’s a damned original,” the Tellarite grunted.

“Indeed. So, unless another possibility presents itself with further analysis…”

Eden sighed. “The Cardassians may or may not know they’re sitting on a star map to an ancient, locked Tkon facility, and there are any number of people they may think have the key.”

“Precisely, Commander,” Sutok said, folding his hands in his lap.

“Sui,” Eden called to the cockpit. “Contact the station as soon as we’re across the border. Tell them that I need to speak with Gul Malen, Starfleet Command, and Lagashi Naval Headquarters as soon as it can possibly be arranged.”