Lt. Commander
Join Date: Dec 2007
Posts: 120
DS9 Mirror

Standard Earth Date- July 12th, 2411
"Our" Universe Location- Exit Aperture of the Bajoran Wormhole, Gamma Quadrant
ISS Normandy


Commander Arachnidus stood on the bridge of his proud ship with a bloodlust coursing through his veins. Normandy was one of a new fleet of ships that the steadily rising Terran Resistance was building. This Quirinus class ship, the class named for a Roman warrior god, was named for one of the finest battles in Earth's history. One which ensured the dominance of humanity in Arachnidus' future, for had that fool Adolf Hitler not burned under the banner of the Allied Union, the third World War may have gone beyond theory and those idiot Augments might actually have hurt someone. Arachnidus saw it as a fitting name; Normandy signified a great victory over a brutal evil, one which represented decadence and decay. Though, Arachnidus thought, that Nazi did have one thing right- there is a Master Race, and we are it; not something as foolish as the colour of our skin or the deities we blindly follow, or even the sexual preferences of our sick minds- but Humans as a whole. We rule.

Arachnidus did have a certain fondness for certain other alien races. He didn't find himself a racist(not that it would bring much stigma to him if he did); he readily admitted that humanity could easily find itself at the barrel of another species' gun, as it had for the past decades following Emperor Spock's weak attempts at reform. But he did believe in one thing; that the human race was the perfect one. Even with it's flaws, it was a magnificent thing. He could even tolerate the hybrids, those born of mixed human-alien families; for as long as they held one gamete worth of human genes, they were part of perfection.

That is why he was chosen to captain the Normandy. He'd been one of the lucky members of the Terran Resistance to not be a former captive. He'd had the trust of a cardassian Gul named Damar who allowed him to own his own ship, an abandoned Resistance prototype named Luna that was "coincidentally" drifting in his path when he was offered a ride aboard another human owned vessel; which he promptly found out was captained by a human resistance officer, Jules Bashir. Since then, he'd been part of the most important mission he could think of; finding a place to run.

Arachnidus was not an idiot; as much as he wanted to rain fire upon the klingons and the bajorans and the cardassians for what they had done to his beloved humanity, he recognized that the Terran Resistance and it's Starfleet was not ready for an open war- not yet. They had broken from the shackles of their slavery, and now owned several key positions, including Terok Nor and Empok Nor, but that could not last forever. So Luna and Normandy were sent on missions to find a sector of empty space, far away and easily defendable against assault, while the Resistance grew. But, as Luna and it's crew had found out, the Alpha and Beta quadrants were far too dangerous, with species subservient to the dogs that once owned his race as slaves. So that left one option; the Gamma Quadrant, as the Delta quadrant was too far away, and nobody wanted to deal with those annoying, individualist cyborgs that benevolently ruled most of the quadrant.

And so Normandy, built in secret alongside the rest of the pathfinder fleet, was sent out from DS9 (which the Normandy crew and many others now knew as Cerberus, standing guard at the Gates of Hell), to find a new home. And they had; about sixty light years from the exit aperture of the bajoran wormhole. And now, they were on their way back to report to Bashir the wonderful find. The mood on the bridge was jovial, and Arachnidus' grin only got bigger once he saw one emerge on the face of his lover, Sublieutenant Lawson.

"Kate, what's getting you hot?" he asked as she rapidly tapped away at her conn.

"Well, well, Commander, it seems we've got a bogie. Heading 84.9 by 17.4. Jem'hadar battleship. Lightly armed...compared to us" she said.

"And I suppose you want us to kill it?" the Commander asked, toying with his (using the phrase his best friend and first officer Mark Parker constantly shoved in his face) girlfriend.

"It'd be a nice gift. I'd be inclined to make it up to you later" she said with a seductive wink.

"That's an offer I could stand to accept. Mark, how far out are we from those poor souls?"

"Ah, Richard. Seems we're about thirty seconds away at slipstream. Time for plunder?" his friend asked. Mark's face held a bit of suspicion, and his use of Arachnidus' Earth name belied his fears. Mark, like Arachnidus, did not hate all other species. But unlike Arachnidus, Mark did not enjoy the liberal application of violence. In this case, my dear brother's morality may prove correct. This is not a time to make enemies.

"Let's just send a message. Shapek, set course for the ship. Slipstream velocity 1." Ensign Malketh'ar Shapek-Uknur was a choblik; one of the few nonhuman races that Arachnidus could see having a stake in the future hegemony the Terran Empire was to become. The choblik were a quasi-cybernetic race filled with vigor and a lust for control, as well as a penchant for trust- all fine qualities in comrades. They too, had suffered at the hands of the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance. During their time onboard DS9, Arachnidus and Malketh'ar had become good friends, and that was no small feat. His train of thought was broken by the red alert claxons screaming through the ship as the slipstream aperture on the view screen collapsed and a large, purple, bug-looking moved at warp ahead of them. As the Normandy matched speed, the ship's vulcan tactical officer, a male whose name Arachnidus couldn't remember, reported.

"We are receiving a hail, Commander."

"Put it onscreen."

On the screen, the face of a Vorta, flanked by Jem'hadar peacekeepers appeared. The timid clone spoke fast, admirably covering his fear.

"Terran, we have no quarrel with you! We're just diplomats, leaving a peace conference. Please, leave us be."

Arachnidus considered the man for a second. He was sincere, as were his Jem'hadar subordinates. They truly had no desire to fight, whether out of terror or their own morality. They could, if their officers were skilled enough, actually do some damage to Normandy, in a standup fight. Arachnidus responded immediately.

"Understood, vorta. The Terran Empire will have no conflict with you if you do not interfere with our affairs. But, should we find out that you -any of you-, have taken an act that may endanger Terran lives, I will personally find you and ensure that there won't be enough clones left when I'm done shooting. Do I make myself clear? Or do I have to turn your ship into slag?"

"We understand entirely, Terran." Abruptly, the comm channel closed. Arachnidus decided to drive his point home, just in case.

"Tactical, target some auxiliary system of theirs. Nothing too important, we want them to get home and spread the word. Fire at will."

"Aye, Commander."

On screen, three cobalt Transphasic torpedoes launched into space towards the Dominion vessel, flanked by lances of blue fire from the phasers. The weapons tore through the ship's shields and landed on their mark, erupting fire from the side of the gargantuan ship. Sublieutenant Lawson turned around in her seat, looking at Arachnidus as he sat on his command throne.

"Sensors are reading at least twelve bodies in vacuum. They got the message, Richard" she said, the same flirtatious smile crossing her face. On screen, the ship jumped to warp, streaming plasma in it's wake.

"Very good. Sublieutenant, set course to the wormhole, warp 9.95. Then join me in my quarters. We should celebrate. Mark, you have the bridge."

"Yeah, yeah. Go get laid."

As Arachnidus savored the taste of glory and happiness in expectation of the fun few hours ahead, he stepped onto the turbolift and formed a thought.

Gods, I really hope that there isn't some pansy, peace loving hippy version of me in that Mirror Universe Bashir told me about.

What brought the thought to the surface, Arachnidus could not say, but he was truthfully hoping that some horrible accident had claimed the life of his mirror universe counterpart. From what he had heard of the other world, humans there were a benevolent people, and a founding member of a humanitarian coalition of species that ruled large swathes of the Alpha Quadrant. The very thought sickened him, that a version of himself was from the world responsible for the downfall of his people. He shook his head and cleared the thought to make room for much more scandalous ones, of the time ahead with Sublieutenant Lawson.

Standard Earth Date- July 12th, 2411
USS Normandy
Our Universe, Deep Space Nine, Bajor System


As Arachnidus laid in bed, Kate Lawson beside him, a random thought crossed his mind. Earlier, he'd been talking to the station's CMO and his mentor, Julian Bashir, and the topic of the Mirror Universe came up. Now, as he laid there, sleepless and pondering his character, only one idea came to mind.

Somewhere out there, in the vast quantum nothingness, there's another Normandy, and another me. And I bet he is a gigantic douche.

I wonder if he has a goatee...
Lt. Commander
Join Date: Dec 2007
Posts: 120
# 142 On Second Thought Pt. 1
07-12-2011, 03:37 AM
(Post DS9 - STO era)


“Marvelous! What marvelous duplicity!” The female voice came over the din of her own thoughts as she stared down at the lifeless body of what had been General Dek.

Green blood trickled down her face and arms, and onto the bloodied polished steel blade of the short Sienov. It’s not the same Dek I know. She reminded herself, the image of herself running the blade of the scimitar through the Army officer flashed into her mind, the expression of anguish and shock as the blade pierced through his flesh. Left him without life. She found she was less affected by the memory than she thought she would be. He had been trying to kill her, and had he succeeded he would have shown no remorse, so his death was justified.

“Don’t tell me you are now getting soft on me.” Ynala said, softly.

Startled by the closeness of her words, Kim turned to face the Romulan woman, who now stood next to her, emerald eyes glittering in a mixture of both amusement and excitement.

Kim shook her head. “Not at all, Lhhei.”

Ynala laughed. “You are perhaps yet the most impressive human I have yet to come across. Too bad we never met.”

Kim frowned.

“You didn’t think you had me fooled did you, Kim Sharp?”

Captain Sharp straightened her posture, not taking her eyes off of Ynala.

The Romulan woman glanced over as two Centurions approached to drag the body away.

“I know you aren’t from this timeline.” Ynala said, a smirk forming on her full lips.

“Neither is your Vulcan friend.” Ynala turned a dark, emerald eye to the Stellar Drift's Chief of Security standing in the corner.

The Centurions removed the body, and the slender, raven haired woman stepped closer, the sweet, familiar smell of Toraket perfume flooding Kim's senses, enchanting her with the memories of long past. Slowly, Kim returned the blade to its sheath on her belt.

“Here, you never existed. Not even an apple in your father’s eye. I also know where you are going back to, your home doesn’t exist and neither does…your beloved wife.”

Ynala’s expression changed. She had never been this close to a human before. As a Romulan political figure, the humans had never mattered enough for her to have any dealings with them, and socially they were regarded with the same level of amusement reserved for zoo animals. She had always heard, however, that in matters of politics and romance they were unpredictable, sometimes genuinely nice, and others savage.

A striking figure, she was the same height. Through her solid muscular frame and her hard-set cobalt blue eyes, her presence was powerful, subtly captivating. She was also beautiful in the same way she commanded the room. Her eyes as they looked at her knowingly, pierced straight through the wall of diffusion she had placed between herself and her emotions, down into the depths of her soul, causing hesitation.

She slowly stepped away a few paces from Kim, and looked at the marble floor for a moment to recollect her thoughts.

“I watched you with the freighter the other day, and Captain Goresh. Your interrogation techniques are most impressive for a Starfleet officer. You could be so useful here: You are ruthless, driven, loyal, and unquestioning. Cold. Exactly what I need, and exactly the person Starfleet doesn’t like. Perhaps why you are being removed from your command. I can see you being tucked away into some little office to shrivel and die; or retire on a beach, fattening up for the Klingons. "

Ynala laughed at the thought. "You're a warrior. You and I both know that while Starfleet might be able to just sweep you under the rug, it wouldn't solve anything. All that would remain would be the thoughts of what you left behind nagging at you. Instead, you could…have such a better life. Even care for our daughter the way she was meant to be.”

A frown flickered across Kim’s face.

Gently, Ynala placed a finger on Kim’s lips, quieting words that were behind them.

“Vaihuu...such a lovely name, and definitely one I would have picked out. You know how much I love that play. I promise no harm would come to her. With this technology, you could go to and fro, or even bring her here, and you and I could have a second life together. On Romulus, but this time rule as we were meant to do. Our people could thrive as they were meant to.”

Ynala's expression was now soft, but slightly nervous. It was very convincing. Though, she never knew the Ynala of the other Universe to be duplicitous, but this one seemed to be more than capable. The back of her mind cautioned her, and yet there was just enough sincerity in her demeanor to call in to question her suspicions. This wasn't quite the same woman as the one she knew, but then again, Kim wasn't quite the same either. Nevertheless, the proper thing would be to return to the timeline where she came from, as much as it hurt to think about.

Kim broke her gaze from Ynala and settled for a brief moment on a window, catching sight of shuttles as they sailed through the mid-morning Romulan sky. The the warmth of the Romulan star was beginning to fill the room, and she could tell from the tint to the light that it was nearly the season of Harvest in the North.

She still remembered what it was like. Ynala's hometown of Ilurren would be bustling, smelling of freshly fried Osol Twists, sweet bread, and different meat dishes from all over the Empire. There would be craftsmen, musicians and artists filling the streets with color and song. In the evening, there would be music and theatre, and to the delight of festival goers on the last night the Praetor would lead everyone in "Happy Are We". She recalled walking hand-in-hand with Ynala, greeting her neighbors with a smile, buying bread from the local school children. Watching fireworks on the beach, with the cool ocean breeze washing over them. She was right about her removal from command, and the reasons why. Idly, she wondered if Sevak knew that she had failed a recent psychological evaluation.

A smile began to stretch across Ynala’s lips as she watched Kim struggle with her emotions.

“I knew you would come around.” She said, softly. Ynala turned and walked back to her chair.

"Your Vulcan may remain as well. She would make an excellent servant."
Lt. Commander
Join Date: Dec 2007
Posts: 120
# 143 On Second Thought Pt.2
07-12-2011, 03:39 AM
Looking to the back of the room her eyes met Sevak’s, her face bruised from the fight the other night. What of her? To remain here, would be to trap Sevak here, too. Home the past two years was aboard the Stellar Drift, with Thol, Kala, Soral…. All those people aboard that starship that also called it home. Sevak would never be happy as a servant, and she would rebel.

Sevak's expression turned to questioning, then imploring. So many things the two of them had been through. Sevak had been a good friend over the past year, and she much appreciated the Vulcan's attempts at rescuing her through mental discipline. It would be unfair for her, not to mention dangerous to leave her here.

Kim turned back to Ynala and sighed a heavily as she traced over the lines of that face that she had so loved many years ago. It had been another life, in another Universe. Another reality. Whose reality. What was reality anyway?

"Captain..." Sevak said, removing herself from where she stood, approaching her commanding officer and friend.

Kim turned around to face her.

The Vulcan tactical officer paused, as she caught a momentary flash of mixed confusion and desperation on the human's face. The woman she had once known as Kim Sharp seemed to be rapidly fading before her eyes. This was not the same person that had come to her rescue on Starbase 24 months before, this was not the same woman who had meditated with her just weeks before, that she had worked so hard to save. Her face was as dark as the blood splatter upon her skin and clothes, her eyes as cold as the blade on her hip.

"Is it so bad?" Kim asked. "We have paradise here."

"For you." The Vulcan's brows knit. "I am to be bound to service. I would like to go home."

"Better service here than in other parts of the galaxy, and better than to be floating around that metal coffin waiting to be blown to bits by the Klingons or the Borg or the Cardassians or the Iconians or whoever wants our hides that day. I would treat you well, and you know it. It would just be a title."

"Listen to yourself, Captain. This is not logical--"

Kim felt something inside her snap. "Forget logic!" She shouted. "I've had it, with you people and with Starfleet and your self-righteousness. I'm not leaving this time."

"Captain, we better go." The Vulcan said, reaching out to her.

"No!" Kim shouted, giving Sevak a hard shove. "I'm not letting you take this from me. I'm not letting you kill them."

The tactical officer staggered backward. For the first time in her life, Sevak felt afraid of Kim. Her eyes were blackened with rage, her face clenched with hatred and desperation. This was a nightmare.

Ynala couldn't help but smile internally. She had Kim. Though, there wasa sliver of conflict. It would be easy to allow the Vulcan to return to the other timeline, but also risky. She knew far too much. She would be a liability, talking to her little Starfleet friends about everything.

Sevak's heart raced in fear, her eyes still locked on Kim's. "Are you going to kill me?"

Without hesitation, Kim grabbed the hilt of the Sienov and unsheathed it.

The sound of transporter signatures caused Kim to hesitate. She turned around to see herself and four of her senior officers finish materializing and raise their weapons.

“Not today.” Her other self said, aiming her tetryon pistol at her other self, her black leather-gloved hand clutching it tightly to steady it, finger curling around the trigger. The pistol bucked as a bolt of compressed tetryon energy escaped the muzzle.

Kim watched her other self, standing in front of Ynala, fall as she was hit in the chest. She aimed her pistol at Ynala and fired, hitting her in the abdomen as she fled sending her to the ground.

Within a few short minutes, the room had been cleared. Some of the tapestries and furniture burned, filling the room with smoke and the sweet smell of fire. She moved to where Sevak stood, unharmed and slapped an emergency transporter device on the shocked Vulcan’s chest.

Tapping her comm badge, she glanced at her senior officers and then back to herself and Ynala where they lay.

“Sharp to Stellar Drift, five to beam back immediately.”

=^=

Commander Sevak watched, still in shock as Transporter Room 4 swirled into life. She turned to Kim and the other officers as they finished materializing, and felt the world slip away.

“Oh dear.” Lieutenant Malela said, the young medical officer quickly grabbing Sevak before she hit the deck.

“I think this may have been too much for her.” Commander Kala said from behind Kim, the Bajoran chuckling.

“Well, this has certainly been a lot.” Kim said. "Just wait until I tell her that she would have been dead before the sun went down."

"Perhaps I should be there for that, Captain." Malela said. The young Alhalan medical officer looked to the transporter chief. “Beam myself and Sevak to sickbay.”

The two dematerialized.

Kim looked at her other officers, feeling a mixture of emotions. “Thank you all for your help. There will be a debriefing in the morning.”

A small smile stretched across Kala’s face, and she touched Kim's arm comfortingly as she stepped off the transporter pad.

"Soral and I will be having a small dinner with friends in our quarters to celebrate our anniversary. You are of course welcome to come, Captain. Soral is making his famous Plomeek soup." She said, brightly.

"Thank you, Commander. I need to attend to a few things first, and then I will be happy to join you." Kim said.

"See you then."

Kim smiled cordially as her Chief Engineer exited, and watched watched as the rest of her officers left the room. Once they were all gone, she let out a long, slow exhale. She glanced down at the tetryon pistol on her holster and removed it, turning it over in her hand.

=^=

She coughed heavily as her lungs fought to fill with air. Her head was pounding, and the rest of her body ached with pain.

“Careful now.” A voice said from behind her.

The fog from her vision began to clear, and she struggled to push herself to sitting. The room still smelled of fire and there were scorch marks on the marble pillars where the away team had beamed in. No one else but a few medical officers and Centurions were still here. It also looked as though Sevak was missing, but not one of the bodies lying on the floor.

She saw Ynala, still groggy, sitting up. Slowly, she pushed herself to standing and walked to Ynala and paused before her, looking down, admiring the soft features of her face and her long, obsidian colored hair as it rested on her shoulders. Absently, she rubbed her chest where she had been shot.

Ynala turned her eyes to Kim and smiled, this time genuinely, at the human female.

Kim smiled in return and offered her hand.
Lt. Commander
Join Date: Dec 2007
Posts: 120
# 144 No mercy, no longer
07-12-2011, 04:36 AM
(DS9 - During STO timeline).

...His boot crashed down upon the young man’s neck, creating a satisfying cracking noise. He pushed down hard and twisted and the life energy drained from the terran’s face; gargles and groans the only sound escaping from his lips.

...“Pitiful,” he snorted. “not even the grace to put up a fight.” The tall, powerful Klingon spat upon his body as the final embers of life flickered out of this reality.

...“Makes you wonder how they ever beat us.” replied the ice cold voice of his companion, a Cardassian Gul. He turned to look at the Cardassian who was looking at a bio signature scanner intently.

...“They beat us, because of the incompetence of our past leaders. We never should have allied with the Bajarons. That fool Kira gave the Terran’s exactly-” He was cut off by the loud sigh of the Cardassian.

...“Please, not another history lesson Bor’tan.” he said wearily. "One can only stomach so much Klingon nostalgia" he said.

...The General smiled a grin that exposed his rotten and decaying teeth “You would do well to study history my young friend. If we do not learn the mistakes of the past then we are doomed to repeat them. Molor knew this after he slew Kahless over a thousand years ago and created the greatest empire the galaxy has ever seen. You crush your enemies; kill them not gather them in one place, enslave them until they know nothing of hate then stand by as they rebel against you.”

The Cardassian shook his head and tried to block out the Klingons words. He returned to his scanner as the Klingon blustered on about the grand old days and how they would soon reclaim all that the Terrans and their allies had stolen. A blip appeared on his screen, several hundred meters to the west. He double checked the readings to be sure.

...“I have something,” he said as the Klingon continued on. “Hey shut up will you. I found something.”

...“A life form?”

...“No, a bottle of bloodwine, 2306, of course it’s a life form.” he spat the words sarcastically. Bor’tan only growled. “Due west, let’s go.”

...They quickly made their way through the dense jungles of the remote alien moon. Bor’tan hacked away at the vines and tree branches with his mek’leth while Tanar kept a close eye on the little red blip.

...“We are gaining on him, he may be injured.” he said, a twisted smile forming across is pale skin.

...“A pity, injured prey make poor sport.” said the Klingon, a tinge of disappointment in his voice.

...“And a wounded animal may fight all the harder.” he replied.

...They circled in on the target, drawing every closer to the kill with each passing moment. Bor’tan could now tell he was in fact injured. He could smell the blood as it carried on the air. It made the call of the warrior beat even faster within his chest and he could wait no longer to make the kill.

...He exploded out of the undergrowth and upon his prey, weapon raised in a position for attack. The young Vulcan dodged the first blow with ease, despite his injuries, before spinning round and sweeping the now vulnerable legs away from his attacker. The Klingon came crashing down to the ground in a heavy thump. The shock caused him to close he eyes for a second, and upon opening them found the Vulcan standing above him, a crude disrupter pointed at his head. His life and death flashed before him as he knew his fate was sealed. Soon he would be in Gre’thor with the spirits of the most powerful and ruthless warriors the empire had ever known. The flash was instant and he died on the spot.

...Tanar lowered his weapon and looked down upon the prone corpse of the rebel. Bor’tan blinked before rising to his feet.

...“You’re getting old, he almost had you. Perhaps if I had been old too, I might not have shot him in time.”

...The Klingon snorted. “You robbed me of a warriors death. I was ready to meet my ancestors. Do you expect me to thank you?”

...Gul Tanar laughed. “You would have preferred to have died her on this nameless rock? As you wish.”
The second disruptor blast was as deadly as the first.

...General Tanar, he thought to himself, it has a nice sound to it.
Lt. Commander
Join Date: Dec 2007
Posts: 120
# 145
07-12-2011, 06:36 AM
[late TOS 2275 +]
Ayesu Togowara paused before the Tactical display and Ships Crono display..
The Rift eddies settled and the Nav display correspond to the Vulcan INTEL Charts Taken from Dr McCoys memories by Commander Spock.
The Orion Federation Charts from the Parallel Dimension had the shipping lanes and raider bases marked.

The Tactical Officer hit alert.. Captain the Federation should have a Miranda Class vessel on station near Risa. Orders?

Ignore it.. we are no match for a Miranda class.. We must meet the KDF INTEL and Section 31 contacts for the Andorian updates.

"Senshi" paused this System of planets is growing faster by diplomacy then the Empires our system is old decayed.. This version holds so much promise..

EXEC my Ready Room. #2 you have the bridge we must remain unseen or its your hide Do you understand me Mister>

I serve and obey..

EXEC we need to meet the Romulan asset.. first this is just for you to know.. and the commands orders to insure I carry out our mission is secondary to success . Do you understand?

I have no desire to command this ship we must carry out or mission.
but i would look at #3 as a rival for power.

"Its no good to lead the parade as you ways drive you into a ditch.."{ Old World Proverb}
still Captain its wise to hold those thoughts and not share them. We were all brain washed to see no evil in our fearless leaders ways.

So you don't want to defect either?
No Sir these people are no different then ours a spy or defector is never really trusted.
very well order the security detail to the hanger bay.
Should i stay on the ship and guard our destruct device this time?

I should hope so. .but don't be too hasty to use it.
agreed. But what are you sealed orders Ayesu?

Good try ok the usual do as you are told succeed and come back.
the empire can no longer trust its ships just to perfect loyal drones to field a force.. We just bide time and pick a new fief out of whats left.. our Key rivals are crushed.. But we decay.. The once effective leaders have reverted to inherited madness and lack of Strategic Skills necessary to command respect much less control our boarders.

Cocking and eyebrow the EXEC turns. Sir?
Old Friend We are Rome. Look at the Historic files on this Multi verses Empire. Not the Sovetians.
its a good read.

I will take your advice on that. But I'm afraid our involvement in Mr Spock's insurrection is not far down the path. We could slip away with this mail runner to the unknown space..
Attention your Captain Approches Stand taller!!

Meeting the Security Cheif.
KAPTAIN!!
My contacts tell me there is a wormhole somewhere in the Beta Ursa. Controlled by a fierce empire... I tire of the simpletons we face in battle. I am more interested to find the researcher that toys with my peoples DNA he should or she meet my Batleth or you Katana or Bow My Leige.

At ease. I see you all have your egar grin on. Well this is not a conquest mission we go to no planet with vital resources.. We must sneak around like alley cats in a field of dogs.. not liek the Proud warriors you have proven to be. But this mail runenr will get us in range then you msut trust that trainning i spent so many EC on.

Just point us at the enemy Mon Kapitain.
So thisi s your new Midshipman Eh Bo kla.

yes sir good fodder!
<laughes>
Lt. Commander
Join Date: Dec 2007
Posts: 120
# 146 Pushing Back
07-12-2011, 08:00 AM
DS9

Rebel Captian Log Date; 1272398.1
Name; Joseph Walker


"Joseph, this is like looking for a needle in a haystack," Freedie said looking over his shoulder.
"I know she's in here somewhere we have to find her or we will never be able to rally the support we need within the reballion," Joseph said cooly.

After the great war, the alliance had piled up all the Empire's ships in one big grave but kept its place sercet. Joseph had to capture an alliance officer just to find out were this graveyard was in the first place. After much prying nd torture, Joseph found that the graveyard was in fact located at a place called Wolf 359. He knew that finding this graveyard would get the rebel out of the bind they were in. Now he was looking for one ship in particular, The I.S.S. Enterprise-B. The only reason why they were looking for this particular was that it was outfited with technology from two speices one call the borg and one from some fluid space.

"Cap, I found it but it ooks in some pretty bad shape," Freddie said
"Yea you found it but will it run?" Joseph complained.

A few hours of prying they finally found somewhere that they could dock. Once inside it looked worse the outside, Joseph went so far as to think that the great war happend here. There was blast marks from distruptor, phasers and what appeared to be plasma. Skeletions were shrew about many humans some other speices.

"Sir, we need to restart the core in the engine room before anything else," Freddie mention, breaking Joseph's thought process. "Fine, lead the way..."
Some Time Later....

"Cap, core is almost repaired," Freddie had kept saying for the last half hour. After touring the engine room a third time around Joseph finally stopped at a consul that was hooked up to a small power and the consul it self had only a few buttons on it. Joseph looked down a Freddie for a monment and then back at the consul . Playing with the buttons a minute he pushed one on a whim, In the next instant a blinding flash everything went black....
Lt. Commander
Join Date: Dec 2007
Posts: 120
# 147 Broken Mirror...
07-13-2011, 08:28 PM
Broken Mirror...
(Post DS9/Current STO era)

..“Will someone shut off those damn alarms?!” Captain Tenebrae glared at his bridge crew impatiently, “I don’t care who but I suggest you do it now.”
..“Yes sir!” a young officer frantically pressed buttons until the sound ceased.
..“Thank you, ensign.”
..The Defiant Class I.S.S. Enigma-B was over 30 years old and showing her age. Nothing worked as it should and repairs were becoming more difficult and complex to complete. That was the third time that day the ship had put itself into Red Alert for no reason. Earlier that afternoon he’d ordered an I’danian Spice Pudding from the replicator and was a little surprised when he was confronted by a leather shoe filled with vegetable soup.
..“When is the Red Alert going to be repaired Shren?” The Captain scratched at a stubborn itch on his chin as he looked towards his Chief Engineer who, sat lazily in a chair, had his feet up on a console.
..“When I get round to it, Captain.” The Andorian turned his head to look at his commander, “I have a hundred and one things to do around here and it’s on the list.”
..Tenebrae sighed heavily and shook his head, still scratching.
..“What exactly is on that ‘list’? I don’t think this ship has twenty working systems to fix never mind one hundred.”
..“Well, the engines are working…and I use that term loosely…at about seventy per cent efficiency. The Replicators are…”
..“I know about the Replicators, believe me.”
..“…well, the Cloaking Device has been offline for a week…”
..“Wait!? Offline for a week? We used it yesterday to sneak through the Bajor Sector.”
..“Yeah…about that. We knew you wouldn’t have been too happy that it was broken so we just told you it worked.”
..“But what if we’d ran into any Federation ships?”
..“We didn’t.”
..“But what if we…you know what? Never mind, get on with it.”
..“OK, we also have no Tractor Beam, one of the Plasma Exhaust Vents is blocked, oh and before I forget, I wouldn’t use the Transporter if I was you. If you want to know why, you can ask Lieutenant Aralqwi…when we find her. I could go on.”
..“No please don’t. Just get them fixed, sooner rather than later.” The itch on Tenebrae’s chin was growing more irritating by the second. “I swear, I’d put the majority of this useless crew into the Agony Booth if it wasn’t currently stuck on ‘tickle’.”
..“Ohh yes, the Agony Booth. I forgot about that, make it one hundred and two things to do.”

..Several uneventful hours passed in which Shren made no attempts to fix anything, the Turbolift comm system randomly began playing Klingon Opera and Tenebrae almost rubbed a layer of skin from his chin trying to get rid of that annoying itch. Boredom began to set in but was cut short when the Vulcan First Officer suddenly sprang to life.
..“Captain, we have an incoming vessel. Putting it on screen now.” Vol studied the view screen for a few seconds before continuing, “it’s a Federation ship. The configuration is Oberth Class.”
..“Easy pickings,” Tenebrae replied happily, “shields up! All hands to battle stations.” The Captain waited for the bridge to be bathed in red light and those annoying klaxons to sound once more. He waited but nothing happened, “Ohhhhh so now Red Alert doesn’t work at all…”
Shren sighed, swung around from his relaxed pose and stomped his feet firmly on the ground. He casually strode over to the Tactical console, kicked it firmly and counted from three down to one on his fingers. When he reached one, the bridge was bathed in red lights and the alarms began sounding again. Tenebrae glared at him unimpressed. Shren shrugged and walked over and stood beside his Captain watching the view screen.
..“Sir the ship is hailing us, it’s the U.S.S. Idaho.”
..“On screen.”
..“This is Captain Cole of the Federation ship Idaho. You will surrender or be destroyed. We have scanned your vessel and you have, practically, no defensive capabilities.”
..Tenebrae laughed.
..“I think you’ll find we have more than enough firepower to turn your old, outdated ship into space junk.”
..“Actually Captain,” Vol interrupted, “he appears to be right. The Pulse Cannons are apparently offline”
..Tenebrae closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose gently.
..“Of course they are.” He looked up and stared at his Chief Engineer who stood rooted to the spot next to him staring back, “Well? Maybe you’d like to….ohh I don’t know…FIX THEM!”
Chief Engineer Shren, shrugged and walked towards the Turbolift, “I’ll try but don’t hold out much hope.” Shren, expecting the Turbolift doors to glide open effortlessly in front of him, walked into an unopened set of doors instead. He took one step back and it slid open. He muttered to himself as he left the bridge, “one hundred and three…”
..The battle dragged on for twenty three minutes, the Idaho firing everything it had and the Enigma throwing back the occasional Quantum Torpedo in an apparent stalemate. Then suddenly the Enigma’s Pulse Phaser Cannons burst into life, almost instantly bringing down the Idaho’s shields and began tearing into the Federation ship’s hull. The final volley pummelled the engineering section, combined with a volley of torpedoes seconds later, caused a catastrophic Warp Core breach and the Idaho exploded.
..“She may be old, broken and ready for the scrap heap but at least she still has it where it counts…sort of. Helm, set a course for home, we either need to request a refit for this ship or a new one. The I.S.S. Enigma-C has a nice ring to it.”
..“Aye, Captain,” the ensign did as he was ordered, “course laid in Captain.”
..“Take us home, if the engines hold out that long that is.” After the Enigma entered Warp, Tenebrae relaxed in his chair. Once again he began scratching his chin, the itch becoming almost unbearable, “I don’t know what possessed me to grow this beard.”
Lt. Commander
Join Date: Dec 2007
Posts: 120
# 148
07-14-2011, 07:11 PM
This post has been edited to remove content which violates the Atari Community Rules and Policies ~WishStone
Lt. Commander
Join Date: Dec 2007
Posts: 120
# 149 "First, Do Harm" (Part 1)
07-15-2011, 12:40 AM
As a bit of background--this is from our Mirror Universe RP that we had going in Lotus Fleet. The portions of the story with the NEligahn character were written by my fleetmate, N'Eligahn.

It is set relatively close to the DS9 Mirror Universe, though the Terran empire has made a bit of resurgence against the Cardassian/Klingon alliance. Jolie is the highest ranking scientist-captain in the Terran Empire. But, she has a secret wish deep down to be more than a weapon of mass destruction.

------------------------------------------

Captain Bindo adjusted the knot on the glittering gold sash wrapped around her hips. The tight azure leather outfit creaked as she paced slowly back and forth in front of her captain's chair, every single curved centimeter saying she was pure, unadulterated female.

The Betazoid captain caught one of the crew thinking about those curves.

Her crew was hand-picked for their loyalty and scientific brilliance--the Ebola was a science and medical ship after all, and needed bright minds. The best that the Terran empire had to offer was not nearly good enough for her, so she had sought a few unauthorized 'additions'. The fact that they were all incredibly handsome, all male, and all eager to please her was not accidental in the least.

Jolie flicked her wrist, and her whip snapped out. The end wrapped around the wrist of her CMO, Dr. Shian Andres. He had dark blond hair, and black eyes that one could get lost in. She pulled him to her, keeping the whip taut, forcing him close against her. "Your mind is not on your work, Doctor. I could just as easily have wrapped this whip around your neck for not paying attention to the medical experiments."

"Both sets of probes are developing at a rate faster than anticipated. Since I had a moment free, I elected to...rest my eyes. Medically speaking, of course," Shian said in an even voice. The whip's bite had caused momentary fear in the Betazoid male, but that had been quickly replaced with other emotions as she held him tight against her curved bounty in an iron grip.

Both breathed against each other for a few moments before Jolie spoke again, never breaking eye contact. She released the whip's hold on him, and slowly looped it up. She brushed the handle of it down the side of his broad, muscular jaw, then leaned in close to his ear, lips millimeters away from him, her shallow breaths ruffling his shoulder-length hair. "You will report to my quarters tonight to serve your punishment." She stood back from him. "Return to your post, Doctor. I want a report on the projects in 20 minutes."

"Aye, Captain," he said. Gladly, came the burning thought right after.

The Destiny project was their official Terran assignment. Her own project, of course, she kept quiet. No sense in giving anyone in the Terran Empire too much of an advantage. Besides, she had her own designs beyond just a ship, sleek and sexy-dangerous as the Luna-class Ebola was. Several years, several hundred projects, contacts to make alliances, visits to Romulan counterparts, and unofficial ship modifications later, she was slowly moving towards her goals. She smiled to herself.

Her communications officer spoke. "Sir! Starbase 27 has been destroyed!"

Captain Bindo whirled around. "By what?"

"Romulan D'deridex, Sir!"

Jolie rubbed the end of the whip's handle against her jaw. "Interesting...." she turned back fore. "Helm, set a course to what's left of Starbase 27. Maximum warp. I'll be in my ready room."

She walked quickly to the desk in her ready room, and flicked on the filters that secured communications. She tapped in several codes for a priority transmission, and the link soon engaged.

A shadowy Romulan appeared on the screen. "You rang, Captain?"

"Starbase 27 has just been destroyed by a D'deridex. I'm going to be ordered to investigate. I'd appreciate knowing if I'm flying into a trap so that my ship could experience some 'accident' along the way."

The Romulan looked down at his console and frowned. "We register no official activity in that area."

"What about unofficial activity?"

"I'm searching, Captain. I'm as confused as you are, which is saying something for someone in our positions of...knowledge." He tapped several more times on his console. "How very odd. No orders, no "missing" ships, nothing." He looked back at Jolie, worried. "The project remains secure?"

"Of course it does," Jolie smiled. "I'd never leave something that important on a facility that apparently is filled with people too stupid to protect themselves, let along something of this magnitude."

The Romulan blew out a breath. "I need time to talk to my contacts. Give me an hour and I'll have more information for you."

The captain nodded. "I'll send you what I learn as well. Jamie Bond out."

The link flickered out.

"Well, most of what I learn, anyway, just as you won't pass on everything either, my Romulan friend. After all, knowledge IS power," Captain Bindo said to the blank screen.

-----The Next Morning-----

Dr. Andres walked on to the bridge, with Jolie following immediately behind. Normally, the Captain went first, but Jolie appreciated the view from behind of all her crew, particularly the study of her doctor, who was an especially fine specimen of anatomy.

The Ebola decloaked near the remains of SB 27. Her eyes narrowed as she saw the wreckage. "Scan the area--look for all warp and weapon signatures. I want to know just what hit the station if it wasn't a Romulan." Jolie wasn't sure if her Romulan contact was being honest or not--he WAS Romulan, after all--but something about his confusion made her think he just might have been legitimately surprised by her contact.
"Aye, Captain."

Her science officer replied, "It is a D'deridex warp signature, Captain, but the weapons that destroyed the starbase were not standard Romulan issue." He suddenly looked up from his console. "Captain--there are decaying remnants of neurogenic particles present."

A large, D'deridex suddenly de-cloaked directly above the Ebola, locking the smaller ship in its tractor beam. A single Soyuz approached the ship but was quickly and cleanly blown out of the skies and its companions scattered.

The ship immediately hailed the Ebola.

Jolie nearly laughed. One teal leathered shapely leg slid over her well-muscled thigh as she sat down in her chair. She stroked her whip. Whoever was trying to play with her ship would pay, including her Romulan contact if it was him. She decided to worry about the method of payment later, however.

"Polarize the hull and break that tractor beam hold. Fire the polaron phasers at the tractor beam nodes." She stroked her whip some more, feeling the firm nubby braid of leather slide between her fingers. "Z-minus 10k. Fire tricobalts towards their engines. I want them incapacitated if possible."

With knowledge of science technology had come improvements in weaponry and defenses as well, and the Ebola easily broke from the hold, and quickly descended to a point where she was just within reach of the D'deridex.

The D'deridex remained stationary, keeping the more bulky sections pointed towards the much smaller science vessel.

The phasers first hit the shields then went through, destroying the forward tractor beam.

Six compartments opened along the top of the ship, seconds later a large, spear-like projectile shot out of each one. The projectiles exploded around the Ebola, shaking the ship.

Then it hailed the Ebola again.

Jolie realized the spears were intentionally fired around the Ebola, rather into it. She stood up, leather creaking around her curves. "Open a channel to the D'deridex."

Her communications officer immediately tapped the console. "Channel open, Sir."

"Captain," she purred at the blank screen. "Shall we do the danse macabre with our weapons some more, or would you prefer to talk? I for one prefer to stay alive--I suspect you do, too."

"Ah, Doctor," Neligahn said as his face appeared on the viewscreen. "It's been, what? Nearly five years since I've seen your ravishing face?" His eyes looked around the bridge. "You've certainly been doing well for yourself, I have to say. Quite the cute little ship you have there."

"I prefer 'sexy', N'Eligahn, just like you," Jolie smiled. "Tell me, do they keep you as satisfied on that ship as I did?"

"Not quite, my good Doctor," he said. "But I can happily go through an entire day without being poked, prodded, scanned or otherwise tested." He leaned back in his char. "And I see you still play the same games."

"Games? I assure you I'm quite serious." Jolie noticed her officers were performing scans of the ship and crew on the D'deridex without having to be ordered at all. She planned on rewarding them all for their vigilance.

She walked back and forth across the bridge, making sure she had the attention of anyone who might be watching on the other ship. "How did you acquire this..."Jolie waved her hand in the air towards the Romulan ship. "this...memento? The Romulans don't like to lose any of their ships."

A message flashed to her PADD. Romulan registry Shiar-88533. Jolie strolled around, turning her back once on the viewscreen and tapping a few codes to open a covert channel to her Romulan contact. She forwarded the registry. She knew he'd have answer for her in moments.

She turned back around, pulling slowly on a strand of one of her long, red curls. "I'm sure the story would be most interesting. Perhaps you'd like to come aboard to my ready room for some tea and...entertainment?"

Neligahn closed his eyes for a moment and appeared to be in deep concentration. When he opened his eyes, he made a small smile.

"The scans won't be necessary," he said. "I can assure you I'll provide a good deal of the information in exchange for some information of your own" His smile grew. "I think I'll take you up on your offer, Doctor. I'll beam aboard in a few moments." His face disappeared from the screen.

"I'll be waiting," Captain Bindo said in a husky voice. "Ebola out." New information was always so sexy.

Aboard the Ebola

Captain Bindo double checked her outfit to make sure everything was in its proper place. Phaser, electric whip, wrist and boot knives were all in place, along with assorted other items that one would never expect to find in an outfit that tight. "Transporter--block any signatures except N'Eligahn's from beaming aboard. I don't want any nasty little surprises. Lock down any weapons he might be bringing on board--including any organics."

She muttered under her breath about him possibly bringing a plague on board. "Mr. MacFinlay, come with me please." She tapped her combadge. "Nurse Chapel, please meet me in the transporter room." She walked from the bridge over to the transporter room and nodded for the transporter chief to allow the beam-in.
Lt. Commander
Join Date: Dec 2007
Posts: 120
# 150 "First, Do Harm" (Part 2)
07-15-2011, 12:44 AM
When Neligahn materialized on the platform, he looked around once and a small smile grew on his face. "Really?" he asked. "And Mtarel was so eager to see you again. Though I'm honored you believe I'd take the time to attack you in person when I could have easily annihilated you from the comfort of my chair." He stepped down from the platform and turned to face the Doctor directly.

"Welcome aboard, Captain. You're much better off without that little witch anyway. I find her methods most distasteful." Jolie stroked the end of her whip. "I prefer a bit more subtlety. In any case, Mr. MacFinlay and Nurse Chapel are here to serve your every need while aboard the ship." Jolie paused a moment and gave him a tiny smile as she regarded him through hooded eyes. "As am I. My men don't mind sharing...assets...now and then."

"You should know, you taught her everything she knows," Neligahn said. "Including some of your...less tasteful habits." He smiled. "I'm afraid business, rather then pleasure, brought me here. Is there someplace we could...talk?" he asked.

Jolie sighed. "You've always been all business, my dear. Let's go to my ready room. Mr. MacFinlay, please lead our guest on." Capt. Bindo brought up the rear, admiring the fine views. Once in her ready room, MacFinlay and Chapel took up discreet positions by the door. "Please, have a seat, Captain," Jolie gestured at the heavy, leather-upholstered overstuffed chair in front of her desk. She walked around her desk to the replicator. "Uttaberry wine." She turned to her guest. "Care for some refreshments? I promise they won't be poisoned. Your offer is far too intriguing, and I prefer more refined techniques anyway."

Neligahn bowed his head and took the seat offered. "Just...water, will be fine, thank you," he said. "I have to admit, you've been surprisingly hospitable considering the state we left your facility when we escaped," he said, taking the glass and placing it in front of him. "I hope there's no hard feelings, we did what we had to do, considering the circumstances. That whole...experimentation, thing can really sour someone's mood."

Captain Bindo ran the tip of one long manicured fingernail around the tip of her wineglass. "Not my lab--the Terrans'. It was quite an interesting study in loyalty, seeing which security personnel would try to stop you, and which would only pretend. I didn't need my telepathy to tell who was acting and who wasn't, though it certainly made the identification faster. The ones who were loyal died a quick death. With some of your weapons, of course." She took a sip of wine, then swirled it in the glass, watching the liquid play across the surface of the cut crystal before looking up at Captain N'Eligahn with her black eyes. "The ones who pretended became test subjects. Some were even quite hardy. The mess you left was a bit inconvenient, but I was able to rebuild with my own specifications and people. You did me a bit of a favor, actually."

Neligahn eyed her carefully as he leaned back in the chair. "I should have known you'd even use our escape as a means to gather data. Intriguing as always, Doctor," he said with a chuckle. "Frankly, I came here because we needed your help," he said. "Otherwise I assure you we'd be on the other side of the quadrant and you'd have never seen us again."

"And miss the joy of seeing that beautiful face I've helped create? That would be very sad, indeed." Jolie tipped her head. "Knowledge is power, Captain."

"Indeed," Neligahn said as he reclined back in the very comfortable chair. If it was to place him more at ease, it wasn't working. "Since our...departure, we've continued the research into the Destiny Project and made several breakthroughs since we were no longer bound by the need to produce something usable by a military," he said. "The Nadea Keresh is one such breakthrough. But we've, more precisely, Mtarel, has encountered a problem with the project overall."

He pulled out a PADD and handed it to her. "This should answer most of your questions," he said. "It's a complete dossier on the nanoprobes you first created and that we improved upon. As you intended in the beginning, they re-write our DNA to allow for the creation of the organs and sensory changes necessary for what we've become." He leaned back in our chair. "However, Mtarel discovered that the nanoprobes are...I would say incomplete, thus making us incomplete. To put it simply, they're dying, or going insane in a few cases and not reproducing fast enough to replace the ones lost. It's not evident now, but eventually, maybe soon, your 'children' will start to fall apart at the cellular level both mentally and physically."

He leaned forward again. "We would very much like that to not happen," he said with a smile.

Captain Bindo looked at the PADD, rubbing her chin in thought. "Upgrades aren't free, my dear N'Eligahn. However, I take pride in my work. I can see that the artificial telomeres are broken off, and the mitochondria aren't getting produced in adequate amounts at nanoprobe creation. You should tell Mtarel to contain her enthusiasm for experimenting on things she doesn't understand. At least practice in the holodeck first, or on a few test subjects...." She looked down at the PADD and made some modifications.

"So. Give me a few days and I can have some modifications. However, I received some news that might interest you as a form of payment for my services. My sources say Colonel Sorripto is attacking the Terran Empire. We both know that nature abhors a vacuum. With the Cardassians occupying one front, the Romulans won't hesitate to attack on another front. On top of that, there is some bizarre ship with some creatures called Illithyri attacking as well, and we have no idea what they want, except perhaps our unmitigated servitude." Jolie leaned forward, leather groaning. "I don't want to be caught in the middle of a 3 way war. I want to survive. I don't know if I'll grow old, but I'd prefer to stay alive longer than the next few months. I need your help to do that. In return, I'll fix Mtarel's little folly."

Neligahn chuckled. "I never said it was Mtarel's folly," he said. "I merely said she discovered the deficiency." He studied her closely. Doctor Bindo was many things, but she certainly wasn't a liar.

"I won't tell you that we're not already right in the middle of this coming storm," he said. "In fact, many of us see this as the opportunity we've been preparing for for 5 long years. But tell me a little about your intentions, and we'll see what we can do." Though he was loathe to admit it, there was something about the Doctor that he found...intriguing. He supposed that whatever shields were preventing him from connecting mentally with the Keresh combined with the Doctor's own distinct aura were the reasons for it.

Jolie casually flicked the PADD onto her desk. "Unless you've picked up another genetics specialist, Mtarel's the only one who could have done this. It has her style written all over it--brutal, efficient, no elegance whatsoever." She leaned back into her chair again.

"As for my intentions? My intentions are to live, N'Eligahn. It's not something I can do with the Terrans. I want the freedom to pursue real science and real medicine. I grow weary of war, N'Eligahn. I'd love to sleep just one night without worrying if someone is going to stab me through the heart while I lie in bed. I'd love to pursue something more meaningful than creating weapons of mass destruction all the time. There's so much more to this universe than constantly destroying things. I think you'd agree, no?"

Neligahn worked as best he could to keep his face passive. The Doctor had never really struck him as someone grounded in reality, let alone someone with dreams of peace. "I didn't seek the destruction, it found me," he said, his voice barely level. "We may not have wanted to be here, but the fact of the matter is we are and this is the universe we're stuck with." He paused, eying the still untouched glass of water in front of him.

"Every day I look in the mirror and a face that's not truly mine stares back at me and every damn day I wish none of this had happened, that it's all some long, terrible nightmare and I'll wake up on Rathiam safe in my bed," he said, his voice starting to crack. He took a deep breath before continuing.

"There are two languages that this universe truly understands, power and death," he said. He met her eyes and saw even more so now that this was serious, that this was truly what she wanted. "I'll tell you this now, I have every intention of causing as much pain and destruction as I can upon the Romulans and the Empire," he paused for a moment, considering his words carefully. "But once the hammer blow falls and they understand to never degrade or underestimate my family and my people again," he said as he suddenly realized he was shaking with barely contained emotion. Damn this ship, he thought. "I give you my word here and now, that we will work towards this peace you so desire. Even if it has to be in a universe of our own."
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