He had no doubt that he’d be well and truly sick of it within the first hour, and go fleeing back to the Sontokbegging for its artificial stale simplicity, but for now, he was going to enjoy it.

The area into which they had transported was a rocky terrain, not far from one of Raknal V’s oceans. Ekron could hear waves crashing against rock to his left, but he and his team were out of sight of the water—it was at least fifty meters away, and several dozen meters straight down, according to his hand-scanner.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, Glinn?” one of the troops asked. He stood just behind Ekron—Darnay was his name. “A good stiff sea breeze—nothing like it. Of course, I should think you’d be used to having hot air blasting about your ears, being on the bridge all the time.”

Darnay laughed at his own joke, as did several of the other troops.

The laughter ceased when Ekron turned to look at Darnay. “Gul Monor is one of the greatest commanders in the Cardassian military. You should be grateful to be serving under one with his accomplishments.”

Holding up a hand, Darnay said, “Oh, of course it is a privilege to serve under Monor’s command—as long as I don’t have to listen to him.” Another laugh. “I think that if I should have to spend my time on duty listening to the old gul ramble, I’d go mad.”

“Perhaps you’ve forgotten,” Ekron said sharply, “that Gul Monor led the campaign against the Lissepians. Perhaps you’ve forgotten about Gul Monor’s breaking of the Ferengi privateer ring in the Septimus system, or his destruction of those Orion pirates at Quinor. And perhaps you’ve forgotten about the penalty for insubordination.”

The look on Darnay’s face indicated that he had not forgotten the last thing, at least.

Ekron activated the communicator on his left wrist with his right hand. “This is Ekron. Beam Darnay back to the ship and place him under arrest. I will deal with him upon our return from the mission.”

“Yes, sir.”

Moments later, Darnay disappeared in a burst of yellow light, transported back to the ship.

Looking out at the remaining six troops, Ekron asked, “Is there anyone else who would like to criticize his superior? No? Then let us move on.” He looked down at his hand-scanner. “The fragments are this way. Quick time.”

In near-perfect formation—there was a Darnay-sized hole in it—the squadron jogged to where sensors had indicated the wreckage was to be found.

In truth, Ekron agreed with many of Darnay’s sentiments. Monor was long-winded and tiresome, and sometimes a chore to serve under. But to think it was one thing, to voice it in front of the ship’s second-in-command quite another. Ekron supposed that sort of lapse in discipline was inevitable after six long months in space, but that didn’t mean he was going to tolerate it. Obviously,he thought, we need to schedule more drills. And maybe we need to start airing those patriotic speeches on the monitors again.Ekron had stopped showing them after a few months, as Central Command had only provided five of them, and their effect lessened with repetition. Besides, the crew, at the time, hardly needed reminders of the great state they lived under and how privileged they were to be part of the Cardassian Union and its grand military governing body. By serving the military, they served the people, and by serving the people, they served the Union. Until today, Ekron had no reason to think the rank-and-file had forgetten that. But if discipline has gotten this lax…

Ekron doubted he’d have any trouble convincing Gul Monor to accede to his request. The hard part had been getting him to allow the cessation of the broadcasts in the first place.

When the squadron came within a few meters of the apparent wreckage, Ekron put thoughts of crew morale to the back of his mind. That was for when he was back aboard the Sontok.Now, on Raknal V, he had a mission to perform.

The path of their scans led them up an outcropping, which ended in a very steep cliff. The once-gentle sea breeze became gusty when Ekron approached the edge of the cliff, a sheer drop of about thirty-five meters or so. Below them was a circular sandy inlet about a kilometer in diameter. Scattered about the sand—mostly under it—were the metal fragments they’d detected from orbit. Some pieces protruded upward, others were only a decimeter or so below the surface sand. The changing tide probably affects how high the pieces are.Ekron’s scanner also picked up DNA traces, though it could not distinguish the type.

One of the troops approached Ekron and pointed eastward. “Sir, if we go around the outcropping here, there is a natural path down to the inlet.”

Nodding, Ekron said, “Good. Let’s go.”

Within a few minutes, they had worked their way down a natural rocky pathway that looked to Ekron like it had once been a stream that fed into the ocean. Ekron also saw that the metal fragments were indeed spread across the entire inlet, and also that some of the pieces were corroded.

Another troop said, “Sir, the readings we took on the ship confirm several of the metals present in the alloys of these fragments are not native to this planet.”

Ekron nodded as his boots sank slightly into the sand, which was leavened with a variety of small shells and rocks. He turned to the five remaining troops. “Spread out. Standard hexagonal formation. Visually survey and record everything in your sector. Move.”

They moved. With Darnay beamed back up to the ship, Ekron took his sector and started examining the wreckage. His own readings confirmed what the trooper had said: this wreckage was from something constructed off world. There was no indication that there had ever been any kind of civilization here, so that meant that this was almost certainly alien.

Then he saw the skull.

Niral Ekron was a soldier, not a scientist, but one of the reasons why he had joined the military was because he loved to look at relics. Sadly, most of the museums on Cardassia had been gutted to pay for the Union’s expansion. In order for him to see the treasures of old, he knew he’d have to go off world. But Ekron had been born far too poor ever to be able to afford travel off Cardassia Prime, so he joined the military—which had the added benefit of pleasing his parents, who desperately wanted a better life for their son. Luckily, the Cardassian Union was a nation that rewarded service. By giving his life to Cardassia, Ekron was able to improve the quality of that life, not just for him, but for his family. Thanks to his salary as an officer serving Central Command, Ekron’s parents owned their own house in the capital city and no longer had to worry about struggling for their next meal or paying the rent on the hovel in Arinak. Father was able to grow the garden he’d always wanted to have, Mother not only had been able to purchase the best sculpting tools but also at last had the space in which to practice her art, and Ekron himself was finally able to travel to other worlds, and occasionally indulge in a favorite hobby.

So it was with no thought to the dignity of his position as second-in-command of the Sontokthat he got down on his knees, heedless of the ever-growing pile of sand that was collecting in his boots and would no doubt infest his uniform for the next week, and started digging the skull out.

He found a collarbone next to the skull. Both bones were long since bleached, encrusted with some sand and sea life from the beach, but no evidence of meat or muscle remained. The skull also had an unusually high and pronounced forehead. To Ekron’s mind, that indicated Nausicaans, Chalnoth, Klingons, or some other related species.

“Glinn Ekron!”

Ekron looked up to see one of the troops holding up a fragment of metal. “I’m sorry to report prematurely, sir, but I think you should see this.”