Greetings and felicitations! The New Beginnings pilot isn't finished yet, but here I am publishing this story. Why? Well, believe it or not, this one was finished first! I started it in the spring of 1999, when I was watching a lot of A-Team reruns, and it's finished in winter 1999.
Standard Disclaimers: Paramount, under the authority of Viacom, owns Star Trek as we see it on TV. Universal Studios owns the A-Team. Star Traks and all its references are the brainchild of Alan Decker, while Benjamin William is his biological child. Star Traks: The Vexed Generation was written by Anthony Butler. All references belong to him. "A Song for You" was recorded by the Carpenters, among others. I don't know who owns the rights to the song. Diagnosis Murder is owned by CBS. Sherlock Holmes and all related characters are owned by the estate of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Inspector Gadget would seem to be owned by Disney, though I may be wrong. I have no idea who owns the rights to West Side Story, The Pink Panther, Fletch, or Ace Ventura. If I have missed any acknowledgments, I am truly sorry. All persons in this story are fictional. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental, or is used fictitiously
Okay! On with the story!
MERELY A MIRROR
Lieutenant Commander Sandra Garretson rested her hands on the pilot's console of the flyer Andrea Carr. After a week of studying subspace anomalies, and their effect on warp engines, she and her crewmates were on their way back to the Enterprise, now less than an hour away at current velocity. In the co-pilot's chair, Lieutenant Major Spencer Marcus was improvising on two octaves a concert B-flat diatonic scale with his F/B-flat double French Horn. The mellow brassiness was immensely soothing, and Garretson found herself struggling to keep her eyes open. Dimly, she saw a class-two shuttle pass by the viewport. Her drowsiness was ended when Marcus socked her upper arm.
"PUNCH-BUGGY!" he cried gleefully. Garretson rubbed her arm as Lieutenant Commander Tagur emerged from the aft section.
"I thought there wasn't supposed to be any other traffic. Did you see the class-two shuttle outside?" She saw Garretson nursing her arm, and sighed. "Apparantly, Marcus did, and has informed you the usual way."
"You could say that," winced Garretson. "It wouldn't be so bad if he didn't do it with each and every single blasted vessel smaller than a runabout that we see." She glared at Marcus. "So why aren't you at Tantalus by now, anyway?"
"Starfleet likes to keep a few eccentrics around," Marcus said calmly, leaning back in his chair and resting his feet on the console. "Besides, what would have happened to the Pathfinder project in the 2370s if they didn't keep Barclay? And let's not forget how sickeningly sweet we'd be if it wasn't for Rydell. Besides, you'd get bored without my unpredictability."
Garretson sighed. This wasn't the first time they'd had this conversation, and it likely wouldn't be the last. "Look, Spencer, you're a great horn player, but if you think--" Garretson was interrupted when the shuttle shuddered. First-class Petty Officer Shevel Noran emerged from the aft cabin.
"What just happened? I dropped a sample of control dilithium, so now it's contaminated and I can't use it for the experiment!" Tagur and Garretson checked their consoles.
"We should have it figured out in just a moment," declared Garretson, "though we probably could've avoided whatever it was if Marcus hadn't been playing PunchBuggy," she added with a glare. With a grunt of "men!", Shevel headed aft. Tagur's console beeped. "I'm not sure what happened, but we're in hailing range of the Enterprise," she reported. "I'm heading aft to get my experiments ready for transport." Garretson nodded, and Tagur left, leaving Garretson and Marcus alone in the cockpit.
"You realize that T'nel's going to ask about the bruise on my arm," said Garretson.
"Not if I get Nurse Riccitelli or Nurse Christofk to handle your post-mission physical." Garretson's eyes narrowed.
"You wouldn't."
"I always do. I don't know why you keep wanting to discuss it." His console beeped, and he toggled open the communications frequencies. A holographic image of Soong appeared in the viewing area, but instead of a Starfleet uniform, he was wearing a short-sleeved black tunic underneath a navy-blue waistcoat, with a pin showing Earth with a sword through the poles on his left breast.
"I know you have it, Garretson," sneered Soong from the viewing platform. "If you and the rest of the Alpha Unit surrender yourselves and your vessel with everything on it, I might be persuaded to go easy on you. Otherwise..." he let his voice trail off ominously.
"Ah... we'll be docking soon, sir," replied Garretson. Soong nodded, and his image vanished from the viewer. Garretson swiveled her chair to face Marcus, glaring at him with the kind of force that only a redhead could muster. "Lieutenant Major Spencer Dustin Marcus, if this is your idea of a sick joke, I'm going to press for a court-martial presided by Admirals Sheindlen, Wapner, and Lane!"
"If this was one of my pranks, do you think Soong would be playing along?" Marcus shot back.
"Well... it would be more likely to see the Klingon ambassador sing 'I'm a Little Teapot' in a dainty falsetto while dressed in drag," she conceded.
"There you have it. Besides, I certainly wouldn't have been able to do that," he added, pointing out the fore viewport. Garretson read the markings on the hull.
"ISS Enterprise, November-Charlie-Charlie One-Seven-Zero-One Hotel." Garretson blinked in surprise. "ISS?" She set in a course for the shuttlebay. "Does this mean what I think it does?"
"I'm not empathic, so I can't tell what you're thinking," replied Marcus. "But just to make sure, did you notice Soong's pin?" Garretson frowned.
"All right, Security Chief, what do we do?" she asked as a tractor beam pulled the Andrea Carr into the Enterprise's shuttlebay.
"I'm working on it," he said, heading aft. "In the meantime, I'm going to tell Tagur and Shevel what's going on. I know that I, for one, don't enjoy being left in the dark." Garretson nodded, watching the doors close behind Marcus. She picked up her personal effects, silently counting. Five.. four.. three.. two.. one..
"MARCUS!! YOU IDIOT!!!" Loading her duffel, Garretson smiled as she heard a loud *smack*, followed by Marcus' moaning. She entered the aft cabin to see Marcus rubbing the back of his head as he faced Shevel, who stood with her fists clenched.
"Why'd you have to do that for?" he demanded.
"You have to admit it's appropriate," remarked Garretson. "All this could have been avoided if you hadn't been playing 'Punch-buggy'." The starboard hatch opened to reveal a powerful-looking disruptor.
"Welcome to the Enterprise, Alpha Unit," announced the woman behind the disruptor. Her voice was quiet, but decidedly forceful. She was Bajoran, fairly tall, and powerful-looking despite her very feminine curves. She wore a form-fitting sleeveless tunic with an extremely-low neckline, black elbow-length gloves, black knee-high boots, a black skirt only as low as mid-calf, and a silvery-grey raptor-shaped helmet with rubies were the eyes would be. "In case you've forgotten already, I'm security chief Nessat--"
"--Delarn!" blurted Marcus, his shock enabling him to catch a few flies. He recognized her clairol-red hair, even though it was hidden under the helmet. He could never forget the soft curve of her neck, the fulness of her lips, or the depth of her rich brown eyes, which now twinkled with amusement, despite the hostile tone and gaze she had adopted.
"You seem surprised to see me, Mad Dog," she remarked. "Did you think I wouldn't be able to do this?" she asked, keeping the disruptor leveled at his chest.
"I... ah... well, I don't doubt your abilities, but I am surprised to see you," Marcus stammered. "It's just that I haven't seen your face in four years!" Garretson watched with interest as Nessat's eyes narrowed.
"Four years? Try four months ago, on--" she paused, just as Chang entered the shuttlebay. "Who are you loyal to?" she demanded. Marcus brought himself up to stand at attention.
"I'm a member of the Federation Marine Corps, sworn to protect the United Federation of Planets from all enemies, foreign or domestic." Nessat turned to Shevel.
"And you?" "Starfleet Armed Services, sworn to protect the United Federation of Planets from all enemies, foreign or domestic." Nessat trained her disruptor on Tagur, who responded as Shevel had. Chang sidled up to Nessat.
"Captain, where have we heard the name 'United Federation of Planets' before?" Nessat's face showed her realization of who she was dealing with as Chang continued. "And I'm sure you recognize that arrowhead insignia."
"The Mirror Universe..." muttered Nessat. She addressed her captives. "It would seem that you're not the criminals we're looking for. Nevertheless, until it's proven otherwise, you'll be treated as if you are. Cassandra Garretson?"
"Yes, ah, Captain, although I go by Sandra," Garretson replied somewhat nervously.
"We'll talk about that later. Right now, what I want to know is whether or not Marcus is insane."
"I feel that I'd be more qualified to provide information on that, seeing as I'm the ship's Counselor," remarked Tagur. "I wouldn't say--" Nessat back-handed her.
"You are still my prisoners, and as such, you will not speak unless spoken to. Is that understood?" she demanded. Tagur nodded, and Nessat returned her attention to Garretson. "Now. Do you believe Marcus is insane?"
"Clinically, I wouldn't know how to answer that, but there is the way he acts whenever there's no one else around. He's sung on the bridge, lapsed into bad impersonations of people both famous and obscure, played numerous pranks..."
"That's enough," said Nessat. "It's obvious that Marcus is still a high-risk individual." She turned to her deputies. "Krupke! Closeau! Ghajit! Take the women in this group to the brig." She returned her attention to Marcus, smiling in a way that made him uncomfortable. "As for you, I'll have to handle this personally." Marcus glanced around as Nessat led him down the corridor. It wasn't too different than the corridor on the Enterprise he remembered. The grey was a darker tone, and the Terran Empire insignia was etched on the doors, but those were the only noticable differences. Nessat led him into a turbolift. "Deck Seven." The turbolift hummed into motion, and Nessat faced the door.
"The security office is on deck twelve," remarked Marcus. "Why are we going to the senior officer's quarters?" Nessat faced Marcus, laying a hand along the side of his face.
"I take it from your reaction in the hangar that we were lovers in your universe?" Marcus gulped nervously.
"Well, ah, yeah, we got along pretty well... we were engaged to be married a few years ago." The doors swished open, and Nessat stepped out, waiting for Marcus to follow her.
"So what happened?"
"When I woke up the date we were supposed to be married, there was a note on my PADD from Delarn. She said she was leaving to join a top-secret intelligence organization, and I never heard from her again." By that time, he and Nessat were at the door to her quarters. Once inside, Nessat told Marcus to relax on the couch, then faced the door.
"Computer, initiate security measure Nessat-Twelve-Delta-Seven." The doors audibly latched shut, and a forcefield snapped into place around the outer bulkheads. Satisfied, she headed for the sleeping cabin. "It's a shame that happened," she called out. "If I had been engaged to the Spencer I know, I couldn't have left him."
"But you'd pull a disruptor on him," countered Marcus.
"Line of duty, my dear," she replied, stepping into the foyer. "Surely you'd have to threaten your Delarn if she was trying to overthrow the government." Marcus looked back at Nessat. She had removed her helmet and untied her ponytail, letting her hair cascade over her shoulders, which were covered with a navy-blue cloak. She had traded her uniform for a light blue satin ankle-length dress, slit on the side to just above her knee, with a crimson stripe diagonally crossing her torso. She wore black gloves, but they were Tholian silk, as opposed to the leather of her uniform gloves.
"Not if she looked like that," Marcus said, whistling appreciatively. Nessat smiled seductively, gliding to the couch. Gracefully lowering herself, she ran her fingers through his hair.
"I could never fire on you, either," she admitted. Smiling, she leaned forward, closing her eys. Startled, Marcus scootched back.
"Uh... what are you doing?" Nessat placed a finger to his lips, then trailed a line from his lips to his chest.
"It's been a long time, Spencer," she murmured. "Do you mean to say that you don't want this? A chance to be with Nessat Delarn, to whom you were engaged?" Marcus' thoughts were clouding. He knew that this wasn't Delarn... not the Delarn he knew, but this was still Delarn! It had been several years, and it would be good to hold her in his arms. Nessat leaned over him again. This time, he stayed where he was, letting her kiss him. It was just as he remembered her kiss from the Spring Promenade his senior year of the Academy. Closing his eyes, Marcus placed his hands on Nessat's cheeks, returning the kiss he remembered so well.
Captain's Log, Stardate 568081.2
We have received word from Admiral Drake that
once the Andrea Carr returns from its research
mission, we are to proceed to Dol'base, at the edge of
Zaunkuan space. As usual, I am asking my Tactical
officer if he has any special information about this
particular base, or those in command. He has not
disappointed me yet, and today is not the day he
breaks that pattern."Dol'base, as revealed by its name, is run by the Dol'clan," explained Zordauch. "In our case, it's fortunate, as the Dol'clan is loyal to the Zor'clan, so the base commander will be sworn to provide whatever I ask for... including priority service for repairing Enterprise's damaged systems, if need be," he said, raising his eyebrow conspiratorially. Jarok smiled.
"That will be fortunate. After our encounter with the Crenarians, we could use some base repair time."
"And some liberty, I would think," added Soong. "Or we could write it off as a cultural information experience for the crew." Zordauch chuckled at that. "But what if Dolschaat's there, and I want to spend time with him? I can't call that a cultural exchange, since we're part of the same culture."
"Intelligence," replied Jarok. "You're sure to learn something we can use later." Zordauch laughed, but was instantly serious when his console beeped.
"Captain, the Andrea Carr's in hailing range... and there's a massive energy surge from an array where the phasers should be." Jarok scowled, tugging on the waist of her jumpsuit as she stood.
"On display," she ordered.
"Can I put their hail on display as well?" asked Zordauch.
"Of course." The imaging area shifted from the starfield to show someone who looked like Garretson at the pilot's console. Her hair was a darker orange, and she was wearing blue eyeshadow and dark red lipstick. Instead of her starfleet uniform, she wore an emerald-green sleeveless tunic with an opening in the front that exposed enough cleavage to shame Lursa and B'Etor.
"Enterprise, you will surrender yourself or join those who resisted us as space debris!" demanded Garretson.
"Surely we can talk about this..." began Jarok, but the image blinked off, and the bridge listed.
"Shields are down by fifty-three percent," reported Zordauch. "Scans show that their weapon was only charged to twenty-seven percent." Garretson's voice came over the comm.
"Surrender now, or feel the wrath of the Alpha Unit along with the fury of the Maquis!" Jarok frowned, gazing at the fore of the bridge.
"Damn," she muttered. "Any options?" she asked Tagur, who merely shook her head. Sighing, she faced the display area. "We surrender," declared Jarok. "We'll have Shuttlebay One cleared for your arrival."
"Glad you see things our way, Enterprise," said Garretson, smiling unpleasantly. "I'm sure you see how much easier things are when you cooperate. Have your command codes erady to transfer to us. Alpha Unit out." When the comm channel was closed, Jarok tapped the intercom open.
"Bridge to Security. Palrax, I want you to meet me with a team on deck six."
Major Cass Garretson smirked as the tractor beam gently pulled the Alpha-Unit's shuttle into the bay. Captain Tagur loaded a duffel with a collection of circuitry and energy paks, while Sergeant Shevel and Mad Dog Marcus kept an eye on the hatch.
"I told you this'd be easy," Cass declared. "The Empire's flunkies have become to stupid to realize that the people will not permit the Terra-Romulan alliance to do nothing while the Cardassian/Klingon forces build strength in the Gamma Quadrant."
"Go easy on the flunkies. They're not the decision-makers, it's all the fault of the desk jockeys," Mad Dog pointed out.
"Yeah, like you'd be easy on them if your fiancee wasn't Chief of Security hear," Shevel snapped. "Just shut up, idiot." Mad Dog's fist lashed out, but was easily caught in Shevel's hand.
"First of all, quit calling me 'idiot'!" he seethed. "Secondly, my feelings for Del have nothing to do with this mission!"
"Both of you, keep your heads," snarled Cass. "We've been given an assignment, so let's get it done with. You two can argue later." Having said that, Cass opened the hatch to reveal an empty shuttlebay.
"The Enterprise must be in worse shape than our intelligence believes," Tagur commented.
"Perfect," leered Cass. "Let's go," she ordered, covering several meters in a brisk pace.
"Are you sure?" demanded Shevel warily. "I don't think we can--" A bolt of red energy shot out, burning a hole in the jacket Shevel was wearing. "--trust them," she finished before falling to the deck. Mad Dog eyed the jacket with a glare.
"Last time I let her borrow that." He addressed the shuttlebay. "You JERKS! That was my favourite Greaser jacket!" The bulkheads shimmered, revealing at least a score of security officers, each one wielding a high-powered phaser rifle. Mad Dog grinned sheepishly. "But, hey, I can live with that!"
"Welcome to the Enterprise," Jarok said coolly. "This ship represents the forefront of the Federation fleet, and as such, is equipped with amenities to serve the most discriminating guest, including secure quarters where potentially dangerous guests can be kept away from those that they might bring to harm. Your guide for this afternoon will be Ensign Palrax, our Acting Chief of Security. Ensign." Palrax stepped forward.
"VanDyke, Watson, get Shevel to sickbay. Fletcher, Ventura, help me escort the others to the security office," ordered Palrax.
"Wait one smething minute," said Marcus as the security officers moved into position. "Where's Nessat? Isn't she security chief, or is she out on assignment?" Palrax cast Marcus a curious glance.
"That's a good one, Marcus." He gently prodded Marcus along. "Good one."
In the vastness of the universe, there is an average-size spiral galaxy. Two-thirds away from the center of this galaxy is an average-size yellow star. Orbiting this star at a distance of approximately eight light-seconds is an average-sized water-filled rocky planet. The water on this planet is divided into oceans, seas, channels, lakes, ponds, creeks, rivers, and streams. Near a river called the Potomac, there is a white obelisk-shaped monument, at the foot of which is a reflecting pool. Below this pool, deep enough to be at the very bottom of the planet's crust, is a series of offices, the existence of which is known to only a few thousand of the quadrillions of sentient beings in the galaxy. One of the few who knows of its existince, a Klingon female by the name of Be'narkh was walking its corridors, carrying a data PADD. Her uniform was a black jumpsuit with dark red shoulders and a black turtleneck. After following a twisting path, she arrived at an unmarked door, where she rapped her knuckles.
"Come in," ordered a voice as the door swung open. The room was small, three meters across, five meters deep, and two and a half meters high. Furnished simply, it had a high-backed cushioned chair facing a desk with a computer terminal, with a small wooden chair across from the desk. Sitting at the high-backed chair was a middle-aged Trill male, the only clue to the age of the humanoid host being a grey cast to his once-brown hair. At the invitation of the Trill, Be'narkh sat in the smaller chair, placing the PADD on his desk. The Trill spoke first, in a rapid staccato of tlhIngan Hol*. "be'naQ. nuqneH?"
"yaS melor. 'ejoy' De'ghom Hevpu' De'vam 'ay wejmaH wam." Mellor picked up the PADD, eyes narrowing as he scanned the data.
"Sagh ghu'." Be'narkh nodded.
"Sagh DatI'm eH De'vam reqempu'," replied Be'narkh. Mellor glanced from his terminal to Be'narkh, then closed his eyes.
"Qu' wI'laj SuvwI'ghom 'ome'gha," stated Mellor. "Qu'mey Da'chegh." Before Be'narkh could react, Mellor tapped a panel on his desk, beaming her out. With his office clear, Mellor committed the specifics of the situation to memory, then set a new authorization code on the PADD before placing it in a console in his desk. Turning to a wall-mounted panel, he accessed one of the MIDAS stations, hailing a specific vessel on a specific non-standard frequency. "T-Seven respond. Upsub calling, T-Seven respond." The viewer snapped to show a Vulcan male in a black hooded jumpsuit with a charcoal-gray mask and waistcoat.
"Zeta," the Vulcan announced. "Situation?"
"Kirkira DI. DL I-O." Zeta placed a PADD in a mount in his ship's computer, and Mellor tapped in a series of commands to transfer the encrypted data to Zeta's PADD.
"Data received. Delta receive ASAP."
"Doubleplus good. Upsub out." Within five minutes, the MIDAS array Mellor used had no record of any conversation or data-tranfer taking place. Thanks to the expert reprogramming skills of the Omega Corps, there was no record of any use of that array during that time.
Soong stormed into the brig, yanking a disruptor out of the weapons locker. Pointing it at Shevel, he lowered the forcefield.
"You claim you're from the mirror universe. What do you know about communicatinos relays in quantum slipstream channels?" he demanded. Shevel stammered. She had heard rumors that Starfleet R&D had been theorizing about the possibility of such methods, but nothing concrete had come up.
"Don't answer that," ordered Garretson. Closing the forcefield around Shevel's cell, Soong turned to Garretson.
"You've got a lot of nerve, Cass," he fumed. "I could release Sarin gas into your cell. In case they don't have it in your universe, it's a centruies-old compound that causes excruciating epidermal inflammations. Your eyes tear incontrollably. Your lungs burn. Death comes after several hours of this torture. All because I don't like your attitude."
"But you won't do it," Garretson stated calmly. "If you want to torture for the sake of torture, then I suppose you would pick the Bajoran. Certainly they've caused enough trouble during Worf's reign of the Klingon/Cardsassian Empire, particularly Terok Nor's Intendant Kira."
"You seem to have a good grip on our history, Cass," Soong commented warily.
"All Starfleet Officers are briefed on what Kira, Bashir, Sisko, and several others reported about this universe," she revealed. "My point is, you could interrogate Shevel, but in the end, she's just another crewman in engineering. On the other hand," she began, forcing herself to smile seductively as she stood, "if you wanted some information about the other Enterprise, wouldn't you rather ask someone like the Chief of Operations?"
=/T\= Command Center to Soong. A Zaunkuan warship has dropped out of slipstream. =/T\=
"On my way, Centurion," he replied. "Soong out." Turning to Garretson, he smiled lecherously. "Your proposition is intriguing, Cass. I'll have my decision when I return." Garretson watched him leave, then sank onto her bunk.
"That'd be fine, Colonel," she muttered, "Execept that I go by 'Sandra', and I'd rather kiss Marcus."
"Don't worry about that, Commander," remarked Tagur. "I think Nessat's got that taken care of." The mental picture that Garretson conjured made her sick to her stomach.
Soong stepped out of the turbolift, striding to the command chair just in front of Jarok's observation zone. "Report!" he demanded. "It's Baron Zordauch's flagship," said First Lieutenant Kaesse. "He's hailing us with weapons charged and shields up."
"Typical," snorted Soong. "Get him on view," he ordered, stepping onto the viewing platform. The holoprojectors formed an image of Zordauch, his sunset-orange hair flowing onto his shoulders, a copper circlet on his head. He wore a sheer whiet tunic over chain mail, with a copper tabard and indigo-blue cloak over his tunic, with a patterned kilt over forest-green tights, as well as black leather gauntlets and boots. "Colonel Soong! What a pleasure to see you again!"
"Cut the crap, Baron. Power down your weapons. You're in Terran space."
"I'd love to, Colonel, but there's one small problem. I paid good latinum to have a communications relay delivered to me that would work in a quantum slipstream. I believe you have the couriers in your custody. I can relieve you of the burden," he suggested insincerely. Soong laughed.
"There are two reasons I can't do that. First of all, the array you're talking about is a prototype stolen from imperial scientists by the Alpha-Unit. General Drake has ordered me to apprehend the Alpha-Unit and take them to Fort 582 with the array. I can't turn them over to anyone else."
"And the second reason?" Zordauch was furious. If he couldn't procure the array for the Zaunkuan Empire, the alliance with the Neswincarnian Confederacy would be jeopardized.
"Quite simply, I do not have the Alpha -Unit. I have their counterparts from a mirror universe. My soldiers have searched their entire transport. All we found were some scientific experiments on different forms of dilithium." Soong stood with his hands on his hips, staring at Zordauch, who stood with his arms folded. Zordauch chuckled, shaking his head sadly.
"'Mirror Universe'? Did they have pink elephants in their cargo hold as well? You have to come up with a better story than that." He nodded to someone at his control center. "Dolschatt, it's high time we teach these Terrans not to toy with the Zaunkuan Empire." With that, his image dematerialized.
"Kaesse! Shields!" Soong shouted. Kaese had the deflectors on a millisecond before the ship lurched. "Zordauch's fired two tri-cobalt devices at us," Kaesse announced. "One just barely grazed our shield perimeter while the other one exploded beneath our M/ARC."
"Colonel, perhaps you'd better handle the prisoners from the mirror universe," suggested Jarok. "I'll handle the battle."
"As you wish, Centurion," conceded Soong. He somberly gave the fascist salute, then headed aft to the turbolift.
Soong stood in front of Garretson. They were only a couple meters apart, separated by a forcefield. He glanced back at the officder at the security console, and the forcefield dropped long enough for Soong to enter the cell. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Sandra..."
"I prefer 'Cass'," she snapped.
"All right, Cass... is there anything we can do for you?" he asked.
"Yeah, let us out. The Baron's waiting for my associates and I to deliver a communications array to him."
"As much as I advocate free will, I can't do that. While our tactical officer was doing a standard search of your flyer, he found this PADD from something called the Imperial News Service," he said, tossing a white PADD on the bunk in front of Cass. "It has a few articles on you and your associates. Says you call yourselves 'The Alpha-Unit', and that you stole a prototype from a laboratory."
"The INS is a propaganda machine, feeding lies to the people. The Maquis will not permit it."
"So you're part of the Maquis?"
"No. We work for the highest bidder, as long as they don't play any games with us." Cass faced the wall, and Soong sighed.
"Can I tell you something straight, Cass? You're not on the ISS Enterprise. You're in the universe that the other Kirk came from in the Halkan incident. We'd like to help you, but we need to make sure we can trust each other. This is going to be difficult, but we can do it. All right?" Cass turned to Soong, extending her hand. Soong clasped it.
"You've got yourself a deal, Soong." The lights flickered off, and the forcefield shut down. Soong and Cass sat in total darkness as Marcus and Tagur argued with each other. When the lights came on, the security officer was unconscious, a man in a black hooded jumpsuit with a black leather waistcoat and facemask was standing at the security console, and the forcefields were down.
"Sorry. All deals are off," announced the man. He fired suction tags at Cass, Mad Dog, and Tagur, who dematerialized. Soong leaped up and stormed to the man, who jabbed an isolinear strand into Soong's palm. Soong's eyes closed as he dropped to the deck, his primary systems on standby mode. Satisfied, the man tapped his comm badge. "Gamma to Omega Seven. Energize." As silently as he had arrived, Gamma vanished.
T'nel ran a tricorder over Shevel's still form, then handed it to an ensign standing behind her. "This individual was hit at close range with a level-four beam from a type-four security phaser. Less than one hour later, her state is common somnalism. Explain," she demanded of the junior officers and enlisted personnel gathered behind her. An Andorian raised his hand. "Cadet Rix'shaar'nel."
"She's on a drug that minimizes the effects of energy weapons on her nervous system."
"That is incorrect," replied T'nel. "Neither pharmaceuticals nor energy-based fields are present." A Bolian raised her hand. "Ensign."
"The leather jacket." At T'nel's nod of approval, she continued. "The non-synthetic terated animal hide retained the brunt of an energy beam channeled to affect mammalian tissue."
"That is correct. From the logs of previous encounters, it can safely be deduced that the majority of the inhabitants of the mirror universe do not share the regard for life that many in this universe do. There are advantages to this, as is displayed by Shevel's use of leather vestment. Indeed, all choices have their advantages and disadvantages. As physicians, it is our job to familiarize ourselves with positive and negative effects of many choices so that we may quickly make sound decisions when crises arrive." There was a shimmer of transporter energy near the biobed.
"Here's a crises, Doctor," began Zeta. "Two universes both have four individuals on a small vessel. The two vessels trade places with each other, so that each vessel is in a mirror universe. The alternates that entered this universe are insurrectionist mercenaries, carrying technology that neither universe is prepared to use. How would you recommend handling this?"
"The most beneficial course of action would be to return the individuals to the universes from which they originated, then neutralize the hazard technology," replied T'nel. "Also, it would be beneficial for as few people as possible to know about the incursion." T'nel folded her arms behind her back. Zeta nodded and made his way to a display terminal.
"Precisely," he said, entering an isolinear chip and tapping in a series of commands. "If I could have everyone watch the monitor, you'll see how the problem can be solved." When everyone's anttention was focused on the terminal, Zeta tapped in a final command and removed the chip. As a series of patterns flashed onscreen, Zeta rushed to the biobed, beaming Shevel out with him. When the monitor returned to normal display mode, the medical team exchanged blank glances.
"Doctor... what were we talking about?" asked the Bolian.
"I do not recall," T'nel stated, puzzled. "However, if we proceed to Biobed Nine, we see that...."
The text on the PADD was barely registering in Jarok's mind as she skimmed the week's reports from the Education department. Her boredom was broken by the chime of her ready room door. "Enter," she called, saving the data before she set the PADD down. Chang quickly crossed to her desk, his agitation showing as he dropped a PADD on Jarok's desk.
"Our computers have been tampered with," he informed her. Jarok's concern immediately mirrored Chang's.
"How so?" she queried, picking up the PADD.
"All references to the mirror universe made after Stardate 568081 have been deleted. Shuttlebay, Security, Transporters, Sickbay... all deleted." Jarok's concern started to turn to annoyance. "On a hunch, I recorded a log, making a point to mention Garretson, Tagur, Marcus, Shevel, and the mirror universe. For five minutes, I couldn't play it back. When I finally did, it only mentioned that the Andrea Carr is 'delayed'. It's all in my voice. The computer doesn't have any record of the alteration." Jarok frowned.
"I know of only one person who could pull off those kinds of computer alterizations." She slammed her fist down. "Show yourself, Delta!" she demanded. As if on command, a Bajoran woman in a black hooded jumpsuit and boots with a charcoal-gray waistcoat and facemask and Omega comm-pin shimmered into view, casually clapping her synth-leather covered hands.
"Congratulations. I was afraid you'd forgotten me."
"With the records you've been deleting and altering, some might think that you want me to forget," Jarok said, shaking Chang's PADD at Delta.
"Oh, no, not you, Captain," replied Delta. "Just the majority of this crew. When my team and I are finished taking care of this incident, you and Chang will be the only ones on this ship with any halfway-reliable memories of what has transpired."
"May I ask why?" sighed Jarok, dropping the PADD back on her desk. Delta picked up the PADD, tapping in a series of commands.
"The Omega Corps was originally created to combat the threat of the Omega Molecule, but we've extended our jurisdiction to cover all serious threats to the well-being of the Federation. Still, since we are governed by the Omega Directive, we feel it necessary to keep the Starship Captains we work with informed. No specifics, due to the sensitivity of our work, but enough that you know if something is being done to your ship," Delta said, placing the PADD back on Jarok's desk.
"And Chang?"
"There's more to him than he appears to be," Delta remarked. She faced Chang. "Mellor is still keeping a position open for you. You'd be an invaluable asset to the Corps."
"I'd rather not," declared Chang. "I find your secretive ways distasteful, and your actions morally reprehensible," he said, crossing his arms.
"As you wish," Delta said calmly. "If you change your mind, you know how to reach Mellor. lojmItmaj poSmoH." She faced Jarok. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have your crew to rescue. Good day, Captain." Tapping her comm pin, she dematerialized.
The command center of the ISS Enterprise rocked under repeated weapons fire. "We're taking heavy damage!" cried Kaesse, as a console exploded. "Our shields are down to twenty-eight percent, weapons at nineteen!" Jarok swore under her breath, pounding her console.
"Transfer all shield power to structural support," she ordered. "We're going to ram them from here to the Magellanic Clouds."
"Shields transferred, Centurion. All engine power has been routed to thrusters and impulse engines. Ready for ramming speed at--" Kaesse stopped as his console beeped, then frowned. "Ah, Centurion, I've got good news and bad news." Jarok whirled around.
"Get the worst of it over with," she demanded.
"Well, ah, I'm getting no response from shields, weapons, or sensors."
"And the good news?" she growled.
"The Zaunkuans seem to have lost control over their ship as well," he submitted meekly. "We're both drifting in some energy field that's wreaking havoc with our systems." Jarok sighed.
"At least Zordauch isn't any better off than we are," she muttered. "Fine. Get the weapons and shields up as quickly as possible. I want--" The turbolift doors swished open, allowing a Latino Terran in a black jumpsuit and boots with a black waistcoat to enter the control center. "Who the hell are you?"
"Special Agent Gamma, sent to resolve this situation involving the Alpha-Unit's mirror counterparts," he said, entering an isolinear chip, tapping a series of commands into the computer, and removing the chip. "Here's my authorization," he announced, handing a PADD to Jarok. Snatching it from him, she looked at the screen to see a sequence of patterns that wiped her memory. Gamma retrieved his PADD. "General Drake has special orders for you," he told Kaesse, tapping in a new set of commands. Kaesse took the PADD, suffering the same consequences as Jarok. Satisfied, Gamma drew his mask from an inside pocket of his waistcoat and put it on. He then took his PADD back and tapped his comm pin, vanishing in a shower of energy.
"Hey, sweetheart," she purred. "Did you have a nice nap?" Marcus met her eyes and returned the smile as she toyed with his hair.
"Wonderful," he readily admitted. "After three years of loneliness, it felt like the Nexus when I realized I was sleeping in Delarn's arms again."
"I can only imagine," she mused, stroking the nape of his neck. "It was nice snuggling with you without worrying about you trying to get up my dress," she revealed.
"Hmm?"
"On the rare occasions when Spencer and I could be together, he kept trying to get into bed with me."
"That's not me, though," replied Marcus. His smile melted as he sat up. "That's not me," he repeated, retrieving his waistcoat, "and you're not Delarn."
"Spencer..."
"No," he said, shaking his head sadly as he put on the waistcoat. "You're not the woman I was engaged to three years ago." Nessat stood up, lying a hand on his shoulder. Marcus shrugged it off. "Nessat... Captain... please, just leave me alone."
"You heard the man," declared Delta as she dropped her cloak. "Leave him alone. He's going home, and the easier you make it for him, the easier we'll make it for you to apprehend the Alpha-Unit."
"Is that so?" Nessat crossed ehr arms, looking as threatening as possible in her elegant attire. "And just who might you be?" she demanded. Marcus sighed, then prepared the formal introductions.
"Delarn, this is Agent Delta, Team Leader of Division Seven of the Omega Corps of Section Thirty-One, a secret intelligence organization of the United Federation of Planets in our universe," Marcus declared.
"Very good," Delta said, pulling a device from inside her waistcoat. "However, there is more to me than that," she said, programming the device and placing it on Marcus' shoulder. He disappeared, and Delta faced Nessat. "What I'm going to show you, no-one has seen since I joined the Omega Corps." With that information, Delta removed her face mask. Nessat's eyes widened momentarily as she saw the familiar face, then closed as she fainted. Delta placed a subcutaneous implant behind Nessat's left ear, then tapped her comm pin to beam out.
The Alpha-Unit and the crew of the Andrea Carr sat across from each other, each wondering how their counterpart could live the way she or he did. Desperate for something to break the mind-numbing silence that hung in the cabin, Marcus started singing.
"This is the song that doesn't end, It just goes on and on, my friend Some people started singin' it Not knowin' what it was And they'll just keep on singin' it Forever just because This is the song that doesn't end, It just goes on and on, my friend Some people started singin' it Not knowin' what it was And they'll just keep on singin' it Forever just because This is the song that doesn't end, It just goes on and on, my friend Some people started singin' it Not knowin' what it was And they'll just keep on singin' it Forever just because This is the song that doesn't end, It just goes on and on, my friend Some people started singin' it Not knowin' what it was And they'll just keep on singin' it Forever just because..."
"Marcus, will you please find something else to sing?" pleaded Shevel between her teeth. "I really don't want to deal with that right now."
"She's right, y'know," chimed in Mad Dog. "If you're going to sing, you have to find a song that'll deeply touch them, such as this one:
I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves! Everybody's nerves! Everybody's nerves! I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves And this is how it goes: I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves! Everybody's nerves! Everybody's nerves! I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves And this is how it goes: I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves! Everybody's nerves! Everybody's nerves! I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves And this is how it goes: I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves! Everybody's nerves! Everybody's nerves! I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves And this is how it goes...."
As Marcus joined in, Garretson clapped her hands over her ears, humming the Federation anthem.
"Perfect," grumbled the mirror Tagur. "Just what we need: TWO Mad Dogs!"
BLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP! The Marcuses stopped singing as they and the others in the cabin looked for the source of the noise. All eyes quickly settled on Gamma, who was standing at the fore of the cabin with his thumb on a panel. Satisfied that he had everyone's attention, Gamma lifted his thumb, and the alarm was silent.
"Delta has asked me to brief you on your situation," he stated. "Alpha-Unit, you will be returned to your shuttle, at which point the communications array will be destroyed. Cooperation with this plan means you will evade capture by Imperial forces for the time being. Is that understood?"
"No. What kind of fools do you take us for?" demanded the mirror Tagur.
"Yeah, what she said," chimed in the mirror Shevel. "The Baron's expecting us to deliver the array to him. If we don't, it could lead to war between the Zaunkuans and the Neswincarnians."
"That would be unfortunate," admitted Gamma. "However, it's necessary for the good of both universes. If you'll read these PADDs--"
"I don't think so," declared the mirror Tagur, standing as she glared at Gamma. He dropped the PADDs as he cried out in agony, doubling over and reaching at his face. "Alpha-Unit does not give up that easily." She stormed into the fore section, followed by the rest of the Alpha-Unit. The crew of the Andrea Carr felt the cabin lurch as sounds of struggle were heard from the fore section. Marcus got up to see if he could help, when Delta came in, dusting off her hands. Gamma stood up, blood all over his face, mask, and hands.
"Are you all right?" asked Delta.
"Yes, no thanks to teen-aged Ocampas," he muttered. He glanced at Lieutenant Commander Tagur. "No offense, Counselor," he hastily amended.
"None taken."
Supervisor's Log, Stardate 566081.3
After pursuing the Alpha-Unit for two weeks, we
have finally apprehended them. There was also a brief
period of time unaccounted for, with no sensor or log
records. We have sustained minor damage to the hull
during this time. Major Chang is of the opinion that
we have encountered some kind of spatial anomaly. I
am inclined to believe this as well, as Alpha-Unit has
suffered their own share of losses, including the
destruction of the stolen prototype. We are currently
en route to Fort Five-Eighty-Two to turn the Alpha-Unit
over to Drake.Nessat and Mad Dog lay curled around eaach other on the couch in her cabin. As Nessat ran her fingers through Mad Dog's hair, he trailed a line of kisses from her lips to her chin and down her neck to her chest. Trembling lustfully, he fingered her shoulder strap. With a sigh, Nessat placed her hand on his, stopping him from going any farther.
"What's wrong, Delli?" he pleaded.
"How long has it been since we were last together?" she asked.
"Like this?" Nessat nodded, and Mad Dog shrugged. "I dunno... four, maybe five months."
"Try four months, two weeks, and one day. I count the days between our encounters. I feel like my pagh is drained each time we're forced to be adversaries."
"It hurts me, too, Delarn. But we both do what we believe is right. What does that have to do with the fact that you never want to make love?" he asked.
"I talked with your counterpart for a long time, Spencer. He and my counterpart were engaged. Assuming he hasn't seen her today, they've been apart for..." Nessat paused to calculate "...three years, five months, one week, and five days. He's been completely loyal to her."
"He's from the mirror universe," Mad Dog replied, kissing the juncture of her neck and shoulder. "And they were engaged. That's a serious commitment." Nessat gently pushed him away, gazing into his eyes.
"What about our relationship?" she pleaded. "I love you, Spencer, but sometimes I think that all you feel for me is lust." Marcus sighed, looking away.
"Del... I do love you... it's just... you've got your career with the Imperial Forces. I'm a rebel mercenary. I couldn't ask you to come with me, especially now that I'm going to prison."
"Spencer, please... I need to know what to expect from you. Even if you're thrown in prison, I'd visit you regularly."
"I know, but we can't settle down," complained Mad Dog.
"Settle down?" repeated Nessat, confused. "But, surely, there's..." her voice trailed off, and her jaw hung open. "Spencer Dustin Marcus! Do you mean...?" Mad Dog smiled forlornly as he nodded.
"I want to marry you, Del. But I knew that someday we'd wind up like this: Me headed for prison, you on your duties. We just don't have a future together."
"That's why you never brought it up?" asked Nessat. Mad Dog nodded sadly. "Oh, Spencer... don't think like that... We can work something out!" she cried, wrapping her arms around him.
On board the Omega Seven, Division Seven's transport, Delta blinked. The scene unfolding before her couldn't have been any more touching if it was scripted by that one human writer from Days of Honor... what was his name? Richards.... Behind her, Gamma cleared his throat, and she removed a chip from the terminal.
"Star-crossed lovers," Gamma remarked. "One of the oldest stories in the universe."
"And yet it seems so new to those caught in the middle," replied Delta. She placed the chip in a PADD. "I'm going to the Enterprise for one last rewrite," she announced. Gamma nodded, and headed for the detention cabin where the inhabitants of two universes met just a few hours ago. Rubbing his still-sore nose, he reflected on the difference between the Alpha-Unit and their counterparts in this universe. The Marcuses didn't seem too different... what was the real difference between them? His reverie was interrupted by the hum of the transporter.
"Rewrite complete," announced Delta, setting her PADD down. "And that closes this mission. What's next on the list?"
"USS Klineberger. A ferry came across The Molecule," Gamma said, eyes twinkling with amusement.
"How exciting," Delta commented dryly. "I should consider supervisory work at Starbase 582," she complained playfully. Gamma chuckled, clapping Delta on the back as they headed for the control cabin.
I love you in a place where there's no space or time I love you for in my life you are a friend of mine And when my life is over Remember when we were together We were alone and I was singing this song for you We were alone and I was singing this song for you
Marcus sat up in his bunk, the last few notes of the tune he had woken up to still lingering in the air. Throwing on his robe and slipping into his vralt slippers, he padded over to his replicator.
"Cocoa, hot, with miniature marshmallows." The steaming mug appeared, and he sipped at the grey-brown nectar. He glanced at the chronometer. Aught-three-four-seven hours. Groaning tiredly, he ran his hand through his hair, then stumbled out of his quarters. Ten minutes later, he was facing an extremely tired Tagur.
"Mmm... morn'n', M'rcus," she mumbled. "Whucannidoferya?"
"I just had the weirdest dream. See, I was with Delarn, but she was the Enterprise's security chief, and I was a freedom fighter..."