“It’s been fifteen minutes since they went in there.” Bahir nodded towards a tall narrow building, its tall windowless sides rising like an obelisk from the concrete slab that formed the foundation of the district.

“Any indication of what’s inside?” Bib’s eyes were laser-focused on the tall building, scanning for any clue to its purpose.

“Probably long-term storage. Most of these places are warehouses of some sort,” K’sal advised, her eyes narrowing at a distant shadow that slipped around a darkened corner. When it didn’t return her attention returned to surveying the street from their sheltered position in a wide doorway.

“It would make sense for a base, not a lot of traffic to see your comings and goings. Not breathing traffic anyway.” K’Sal cast a glance upwards. Above the team several small automated drones glided diligently on anti-gravity units, carrying crates of varying sizes and shapes.

“Robots can still be spies,” Bib noted.

“Not if you’re using starship-level tech to obscure prying eyes.” Bahir lifted the tricorder in his hand, a blur of patchy data filling the screen as he proffered it towards the Andorian Commander. “There is a massive damping field around the building.”

“Anything familiar?”

“Without the ship’s library, I don’t have much in the way of reference but I’ve seen these frequency modulations before. I am, however, struggling to put my fingers upon it.” The tall coral security chief flashed with frustration at his uncooperative memory.

Bib allowed his attention to wander to the tricorder as he took it from Bahir’s outstretched arm, the long cruel-looking Klingon device danced with a melee of conflicting data. The snippets of frequency modulation did look familiar, rotating and oscillating with a familiar waltz of sequences. Bib could feel the answer just out of reach, buried amongst a brain full of memorised technical data.

“Mitchell’s eyes would be helpful on this. As would the transport’s sensors,” K’Sal suggested. “He and Eyma should be back at the landing pad by now.”

Bib allowed a sigh to escape his lips, despite being an old rust-bucket the borrowed transport would clear the picture, as would Mitchell’s keen scientific eye. Utilising the ship’s sensors would involve flying the transport over the warehouse district and that would bring unwelcome attention, for now all they could do was relay the data to more astute eyes.

With a flick of his wrist Bib opened the team’s encrypted comm channel secreted in his cuff, “David, we’ve identified a disruption field over the warehouse Aspis and her colleague entered. Could you take a look?”

“Certainly, though my analysis will be fairly limited. We’re hardly using top-spec computers here.” In the background, a deep thud echoed across the comm link as the Eyma shut the airlock doors to the transport that sat on the landing padd several miles away.

“There’s something familiar about it but we’re at a loss,” Bib confessed, entering a command to bein the encrypted stream of data.

“Standby, I’ll be in contact once I’ve had a look.”  The comm channel closed with a quiet click, returning the trio to silence.

“Aspis didn’t give any clues as to what’s next did she?” K’Sal’s lips dripped with venom as she reluctantly uttered the name of their shady contact.

“No, merely that we should follow her and that would lead us to the xBs.” Bib allowed another sigh to escape his lips. The team were in dangerous territory, at the mercy of a multitude of unreliable factors.

“Movement,” Bahir whispered, silencing the pair with another nod towards the tall pillar of a building.

Across the wide avenue, the pair of Nausicaan henchmen stepped into the warm night air, now bereft of their metallic costumes. Even from several hundred metres away, it was obvious their demeanour was different. Gone was the ominous and terrifying body language,  instead their steps were light and energetic, filled with friendly joviality. Across the wide empty avenue, their barrel-chested voices echoed between the metallic walls in the dim light. A loud laugh escaped their lips as they clutched slips of metal in one hand, congratulating one another on an easy night’s work with the other.

“Actors?” Bahir whispered.

“Apparently.” Bib’s antenna twitched in frustration, none of this scenario added up. Aspis had suggested the buyer was a powerful figure with a massive and lethal influence. What need would such a being have to pay actors to play terrifying enforcers?

“Well, they played the role well. I believed it.” K’Sal’s eyes tracked the pair as they took each other by the shoulder and began to move down the shadowed alleyways in the direction of the base’s meagre leisure district. In the distance the omnipresent red glow of the refinery seeped lazily over the buildings, squeezing through the alleyways with magmatic viscosity.

“Perhaps this buyer isn’t as powerful as she made them out to be,” she mused as the Nausicaans finally disappeared from view.  “Perhaps it’s all a ploy.”

“You said the buyer appeared to be an xB?” Bib’s attention turned towards the Bajoran officer.

“Yeah, those were Borg implants on the arm I saw.”

“And you’re certain you saw it.”

“As clear as my own,” she offered her own bare forearms in demonstration. “Bahir saw it too.” K’Sal threw the tall Saurian a wave, who nodded in confirmation.

“What would an xB want with the missing refugees?” Bib’s antenna twitched again in frustration.

“Maybe he’s rescuing them?” Bahir offered hopefully, his focus still not straying from his surveillance.

“He did seem particularly invested in their purchase.” The market flashed back to Bib’s mind, the tall figure of Aspis smugly offering increasingly higher bids on behalf of her employer. The Ferengi auctioneer could barely hide his glee when her sultry voice had offered what could be a lifetimes supply of Latinum.

“That’s some major resources to have available for buying up xB’s,” K’Sal mused. “And in my experience, Syndicate auctioneers don’t take kindly to made-up offers. He must have the latinum to spend. Or at least good enough standing to make the offer on credit.”

“That suggest they are as powerful as Aspis made out. Only a major player would have that level of resources or sway.” Bahir allowed his attention to waive from the windowless obelisk across the road. “Bib, perhaps we are in over our heads.”

“What do you mean?” The twin antennas atop Bib’s head twitched in agreement, the mission was quickly in danger of being more than the small team could handle with their limited assets.

“The buyer is clearly wealthy or at the very worthy in the eyes of the Syndicate. Both are indicative of someone with a great deal of power. These things are not-.”

A trill of the tricorder interrupted Bahir’s concerned advice as a large red spot that indicated Aspis’ tracking beacon was active again within the warehouse. It glowed angrily on the screen, piercing through the dancing waves of dancing disruption frequencies. At the bottom of the screen, a sequence of passcodes appeared carried on the beacon’s signal.

The trio fell silent as Aspis digitally summoned them into the nondescript building.

“Darly a subtle message,” K’Sal finally said with a snort of derision.

“I suspect they are the passkeys to the entrance.” Bahir indicated the small pass door the Nausicaans had exited from earlier. “Bib?”

With another flick of his wrist, the commander reopened the comm channel to the transport.

“David, any updates?”

“You’re right, there is something familiar about the frequency patterns and the algorithm but I can’t remember where I’ve seen it before.” Across the base in the safety of the transport, David Mitchell swept back his unruly fringe in frustration. “I’ll keep trying but without Helios’ database I can’t say for definite.”

“Can you at least tell what it’s blocking?”

“Everything as far as I can tell. Comm traffic, scanning, transporter signals, you name it. It’s a pretty wide net to cast, the generator must be massive. Or very advanced.”

“Within the realms of the Syndicate?”

“Hard to say, with all the stolen tech that’s coming to light. It’s definitely starship-grade, and an advanced one at that. It’s similar to some of the tactics we use during combat engagements, blinding enemy sensors with too much data. Without the algorithm, you can’t filter the noise and send any signals through.”

“Aspis must have the key then,” K’Sal muttered.

“She’’d have to, I don’t think I could break it with anything short of a Starbase’s computer core.”

“Then our choice is to leave… or go in.” Bib’s tone was as tense as his body.

“If we leave, these xB’s are lost to us. As is any chance of finding out what this buyer is doing.” K’Sal’s tone was a clear vote to investigate.

Bib offered Bahir a questioning look.

“We have the key, as long as we keep an open door to our backs…” The coral-skinned officer replied with a look of caution.

“David, keep looking at the scans, see if that big brain of yours can remember something. We’re going in for a look.”

“You’ll be out of contact and out of reach of transporters. That seems like a bad choice.” Mitchell’s voice quivered with concern across the comm link.

The tricorder pinged again with the red glow of Aspis’ transponder.

“A quick look, quietly. Eyma get the transport off the deck and be ready to come get us.”

“Yes Bib, I’ll bring us into a stationary orbit.” The young Orion pilot’s voice spoke quietly across from the distant cockpit, her tone barely concealing her own concerns.

With a curt click the comm link closed and the trio were left alone once more.

“No time like the presence, we’re off to meet the Syndicate.” K’Sal joked, her mock joviality laced with well-concealed nerves.

Bib’s antenna twitched a third time as the three officers subtly unclipped their phaser pistols and began to cross the square towards the dark metallic citadel.

In his palm, the red beacon of the serpentine woman glowed rhythmically, summoning the three blind mice into her lair.