Zide'Mok stood rigid at his console, his gray eyes fixed on the display. "Captain, these structures... the access UI... this is the Founders'." He looked up, a rare flash of startled amazement crossing his features as he met the Captain's gaze.
Anzyl turned toward the viewscreen. A singular, massive circular porthole stared back at them, leading into the dark depths of the giant rock. "So, an ancient Changeling space station? But this is so far from Empersa—the homeworld where the Great Link is," Anzyl remarked, his brow furrowing in confusion.
"It is also restricted," Eroga added from her station, her fingers dancing across her console. "I'm looking at a locked transporter buffer on my screen."
"And defenses are still up and active as well, Captain," Veirik interjected from Tactical.
Anzyl turned back to the viewscreen. "A several-thousand-year-old space station with still-active defenses and restrictions? Hah! Well, now we have to investigate!" He turned to Veirik and Zide'Mok. "Any thoughts on getting us in?"
Zide'Mok shook his head slowly. "My Dominion codes as a First did not work. Not surprising; if this is a Founders' station, a lowly Jem'Hadar would not be granted access."
"This station likely predates your access codes, Zide'Mok," Kayuli noted from the science station. "These materials are over two millennia old. It's a miracle the station is still running at all."
"Which means two-thousand-year-old defenses as well," Veirik said with a shrug. "Permission to blast our way in, sir? The kinetic cutting beam will make short work of that blast door."
The Captain thought for a moment. "Can you make an opening just large enough for a transporter signal to get through? I'd prefer not to decompress the entire facility while we're inside."
A small, high-pitched voice crackled over the comms. "Hey Captain, it's Stitch," the voice chirped. "This system is so old I can hack it in my sleep. Give me a second and I can lower the defenses to allow a safe beam-in."
Anzyl nodded and stood, adjusting his uniform. "Do it, Stitch." He turned to the bridge crew. "Alia, Veirik, Eroga, and Zide'Mok—you're with me." He tapped his combadge. "Tey'un and Stitch, meet us on the surface."
"Understood," they replied in unison.
"We don't know what the atmosphere is like inside," Anzyl commanded as they headed toward the transport pads. "EV suits for everyone."
—
Blinding flashes of white light illuminated a pitch-black chamber as the away team materialized. Encased in their exo-suits, they looked like seven ancient astronauts exploring a tomb.
"Lights on," Anzyl ordered.
Beams from the suit-mounted lamps cut through the gloom, illuminating a dusty storage room. The team immediately fanned out, their handheld tricorders chirping as they began scanning the environment.
"Breathable atmosphere," Eroga reported, her voice slightly muffled through the comms as she swept the room. "But it's stale... old."
"So I guess the question isn't 'Can you breathe it?'" Veirik remarked, eyeing the thick layer of caked dust on the empty shelves. "But 'Would you want to?'"
"The station is running on auxiliary power," Tey'un stated. "Life support, emergency lighting, and nothing else."
"Then let's find main power and get it back online," Anzyl said, shining his light toward the exit. "Only then can we get to the real secrets this rock is hiding."
—
The team moved cautiously down darkened corridors, lit only by flickering emergency lights every hundred feet. The sound of their boots clanging on the metal flooring echoed through the silence, punctuated by the whirring of Federation tricorders.
"Main power should be just ahead," Stitch said, scurrying down the hall to lead the way.
"Not too far, Stitch," Veirik cautioned. "We stick together."
Stitch held up their tricorder without slowing down. "This is a two-thousand-year-old station with zero sensor pings. If anything was down here, we'd pick up life signs. Besides..." they looked up at the metallic walls and defunct consoles, "how could anything possibly survive on a derelict hunk of metal for this long?"
—
The team entered a vast, warehouse-like chamber carved deep into the asteroid's core. It was filled with rows of containers and crates, all buried under layers of ancient dust. In the center stood a single computer console, its pipes and conduits integrated directly into the surrounding rock.
Stitch hurried to the console, flipped open a small data pad, and began typing rapidly as the rest of the team caught up.
"You can read the Old Founder font?" Anzyl asked, providing light for the technician.
Stitch shook their head. "Nope, sure can't. But this data pad can. Thanks to our pact with the Dominion, we know the old script isn't too far off from modern Dominion Common. Think of it like 'Ye Olde Common,' so to speak."
After a few swift commands, a low hum began to vibrate through the floor. The main power whirred to life, and the facility's overhead lights flickered on, fully illuminating the massive cavern. "Thar ye go! Main power is on!"
Anzyl holstered his light and scanned the room. "Okay, well... nice going."
Stitch continued to work the console. "Looks like we have the place to ourselves. No life signs anywhere on the station." They pressed another button with a flourish. "And with that, the defenses and security systems are deactivated. We have the run of the place."
Anzyl nodded. "Well then, since we aren't in immediate danger, let's ditch these heavy suits. I want more teams down here scouring every inch of this facility. If there's something to be found, we're going to find it."
—
Moments later, dozens of Nexus crew members had beamed down, fanning out in small teams to explore different sectors of the station. Anzyl, Stitch, and Veirik entered a brightly lit laboratory filled with high-tech workstations and specialized equipment.
"Over here," Stitch called out, scurrying toward a dusty terminal. They began clearing the layer of grime from the interface. "Let's see if this terminal has anything useful."
"Why would the Founders keep a place like this hidden," Anzyl mused, looking around the abandoned lab, "only to protect dust and old files?"
"I think I found something," Stitch stated, pulling up a directory. "Research logs."
"Perfect. Play it," Anzyl said, standing behind Stitch.
The screen flickered, revealing the image of a Founder, a Changeling—the same female leader who had been at the heart of the Dominion War, the Hur'q conflict, and so much failed diplomacy.
"Research Log - 4121.63
My fellow Founders. The Masan research station is fully operational. As we continue to add worlds to our sphere of influence, our studies of xenobiology become more important. We must know all we can of both friend… and foe. We need every advantage we can find if we are to achieve true dominion."
Anzyl stepped back, his expression grim. He tapped his combadge. "Teams, this is the Captain. I think we found something..."