Star Trek: Season 8 - The Perfect Reflection

[wraith1701]

Mirror Universe-



Like a titanic, green-hued spear, the Negvar pierced the barrier separating normal space from subspace, forcing itself into a realm where the mundane laws of physics did not apply.  Protected only by the thin skin of its warp bubble, the battle cruiser rapidly attained a comfortable cruising speed of 292 times the speed of light, steadily closing the gap between itself and the unsuspecting hordes of the Tera'ngan Empire.

At the rear of the bridge, Admiral KoraQ smiled.  As he turned to address the helmsman, the towering Admiral winced.  Judging by the ache in his side, two of his recently broken ribs had just scraped together, producing a flash of sharp, grinding pain.  KoraQ's eye briefly touched on Captain K'Lara, sitting at the elevated command throne.  Quite a spirited woman, he thought, reflecting on the previous night's tryst. 

KoraQ returned his attention to the helm, leaning over the station to rest a heavily callused hand on the navigator's shoulder.  "Estimated time to arrival at Terran space?"

"At current speed, we should arrive at the perimeter of Tera'ngan controlled space within 1.5 days." 

KoraQ nodded in approval.  One way or another, he would soon be able to release Regent Worf from the humiliation his capture had brought to both his House and the Alliance.  He would either free him, or at the least, free his soul to move on to Stovokor while his captors died around him. 

KoraQ's attention was captured by an insistent beeping coming from the tactical station.  Before he could inquire about the cause, the Tactical Officer turned to address Captain K'Lara.  "Sensors are picking up massive energy readings, as well as a large quantity of spatial debris in our path.  If we don't alter course, we will intercept in less than an hour."

K'Lara turned to KoraQ.  "We should come out of warp and investigate.  Any intelligence we might pick up from the site might aid our mission."

As he thoughtfully stroked his goatee, KoraQ silently nodded in assent.

"Engage cloak," the Captain ordered, turning back to face the viewscreen.  As the command was carried out, the bridge lighting dimmed to a deep red.  She glanced at the helmsman.  "Once we come within 90,000 qelI'qams of the site's perimeter, take us out of warp and hold position."

Moments later, the streaks of starlight filling the forward viewscreen compressed and resolved into familiar pinpoints of light.  The familiarity was starkly contrasted, however, by the image dominating the view. 

A barely discernible incongruity in the very fabric of space seemed to flicker in and out of existence.  KoraQ rubbed his eyes, unsure of whether or not what he thought he was seeing was actually there, or simply an effect of eye strain.  It looked as though the area in the center of the screen was sporadically going in and out of focus; the stars around the area seemed to flicker-- one moment they were clearly visible, and the next, they seemed to momentarily wink out of existence.  The effect was made all the more strange by the intermittent flashes of faint light that seemed to accompany each shift.  As odd as it was, though, this little curiosity wasn't nearly as interesting as the scene playing out around it.

Arrayed before the anomaly, a fierce battle was taking place; the flash of phaser blasts and torpedo detonations reflected hellishly from the metallic debris littering the area .  And there, in the midst of the debris...

KoraQ's blood froze as he recognized the geometric form of several Borg craft.  Honorless, cybernetic ko'tal! he thought.  What are they doing here? 

Weaving in and out of the debris field surrounding the Borg ships was the familiar form of a Tera'ngan Mêlée Class Frigate.  At the moment, the ship seemed to be holding her own; brilliant orange spears of destructive energy lanced out from her multiple phaser banks, mercilessly carving into the soulless Borg ships. 

"Report!" Captain K'Lara ordered. 

The Tactical officer turned in his chair.  "Records indicate that the Frigate is a ship called the Tiberius.  Her weapons compliment is considerable, and her shields appear to be holding up to the Borg assault.  As for the spatial distortion... I-I'm not sure, Captain!"  The officer's face screwed up in bafflement.  " Whatever the anomaly is, it is interfering with our sensors.  The readings I'm getting make no sense.  The quantum signature of the entire area seems to be in a state of flux!"

KoraQ mentally shut out the Tactical officer's confused reply; space distortions and anomalies were not his concern.  What did concern him was the presence of the Borg.  They had made incursions into Klingon space in the past, sweeping through the sector like a force of nature. Death and destruction had been left in their wake, it it was only by the grace of Kahles that the Empire and her Cardassian allies had managed to finally drive them off. 

As contrary as it was to nature, a small part of KoraQ had hoped that he had seen the last of this cold, emotionless foe.  It appeared that this was not to be the case.  The reappearance of the cybernetic enemy would complicate matters...

The Admiral stepped to the command seat, keying the hailing switch on K'Lara's chair.  "I hope these encryption algorithms are as secure as those Spoonheads in the Obsidian Order claim," he muttered.  "I'd hate to have either the Terrans or the Cyborgs out there listening in on our communications." 

After waiting for the prompt from the Captain's armrest interface, the giant Klingon Admiral spoke in calm, even tones.   "KoraQ to Alliance fleet.  Initiate program 'tlhIngan qul'."   He thumbed the 'transmit' button, then looked down at the seated Captain.  "Maintain position and continue to monitor the battle.  I will have orders for you shortly."

Without another word, KoraQ turned and stalked off of the bridge, leaving the Captain with more than a few unanswered questions.

[Rico]

"You do know that Talbot would kill you with his bare hands if he knew what you were doing with me."  The sheen of sweat sparkled on the lithe back of Marie Barton as she laid across the blue skinned chest under her.  She looked over at her very small two piece uniform and boots on a nearby chair.

"I'd like to see the old man try.  I've got many supporters on the Tiberius Marie and Talbot's losing his touch.  Besides, I thought you enjoyed what I was doing to you a few minutes ago.  Didn't you?"  Zremm said with a sly grin.  Marie shifted slightly as she flipped back her long blonde hair.

"Oh, I guess my screams kind of gave me away.  Hehe.  But I'm serious now.  Don't underestimate Talbot.  He hasn't gotten this far in the Empire and put in command of this ship because he was lucky.  The man has some type of sixth sense.  Might be that Romulan blood, I don't know.  But watch your back around him, blue boy."  Marie said as she nuzzled the side of the Andorian's neck.

"I'll be fine Marie.  You watch your pretty back too.  Damn, I hate to think of you with him!  He could be your father!"  Zremm said in a frustrated tone.

"It's ok blue.  Lately he leaves me alone anyway.  I think he's been thinking about his wife again.  That always gets him into a mood.  Now aren't you suppose to be checking on this prisoner that Margon's been working on?"  She said.

"Let Margon have his fun for a little while longer.  I have better things to do right now."  Zremm said as he quickly flipped Marie over and got on top of her.  She smiled up at him and ran her fingers over his white hair and antennae.

"I guess I won't be making my shift in engineering on time.  Well, being the Admiral's woman does have it's advantages."  She said as she giggled and felt Zremm reach his hand around her neck and pull her face up to his.  They kissed and soon the personal guards of each of them outside Zremm's quarters were trying to ignore the loud sounds and noises coming from within.

[Jen]

His ancient ancestors were Vikings, and David Locke carried many of their physical attributes. He was taller than most Terran men, broad shouldered and heavily built. His fierce blue eyes were as cold as the frozen land of his forefathers. Crows feet furrowed deep lines at the corner of his eyes, and they arched over high cheekbones when he leered or grinned. David's cropped blond hair was stippled with white, as was the neatly kept beard that grew on his chin. He scratched at it as he watched the view screen.  The Emperor's black leather tunic groaned as he crossed his arms over his chest and set his jaw. The fleet had disabled several cubes, but not without a price. They had lost two of his best ships and the battle still waged on, but the tide was turning in the Empire's favor.

A pulsing red light washed over the bridge, signifying the high alert status. The deck plates shuttered beneath his feet as their shields absorbed the energy beams that lanced out from the lead cube. The Admiral stood at the center of the bridge barking orders, "fall into attack pattern 'Gambit 1'! Tell the Brood Of Vipers and the Dagger's Blow to follow our lead!"

Admiral Talbot was the supreme commander of the Empire's Fleet, and Locke had not been dissatisfied with the man's initiatives. Yet the responsibility had not always belonged to Talbot.  Before Talbot, General Tevian was in command, and it would have remained so if the Emperor had found Sevryll unappealing.

After the general's unfortunate demise, David gave Admiral Talbot the task of overseeing the Borg expulsion. The ruler expected protests from his military advisers regarding Talbot's Romulan heritage, for the same complaints were voiced with fervor when the Vulcan General was appointed. His advisers insisted that Terrans command the might of the Empire's forces, but David did not evaluate one's prowess as a leader by studying a family tree. It was deeds and conduct during the heat of battle that earned individuals lofty positions within Locke's Empire. Talbot's Romulan blood no doubt contributed to his cunning, but DNA was nothing more than a mere footnote to David. The half-breed was a proven commander and capable soldier. As long as Talbot didn't have a wife that turned the Emperor's head, he would richly rewarded after the current battle was won. The Emperor smiled as Tiberius returned fire.

[Meds]

JOINT POST BY MOYER777 & HAWKEYEMEDS

Dunn's look of worry was noticed by Margon.  The Bolian's lips turned to a blue smile.

"How's your adrenaline now young man, are you scared? You should be. One click of my fingers and you will be torn to pieces quicker than you could blink"

The yellow button on Dunn's phaser was less than an inch away, if he was quick and he would have to be quick, he may be able to get a quick burst out and save himself. Margon crept closer to Dunn teasing him by lifting his fingers, the beast gnashed at the table to the right of Dunn.

The gas had filled the top of the lab and was creeping down toward the motley crew.

"Where is your boss now eh?" teased Margon.  "What's the matter, have you lost your savior?"  blood trickled from his wound on his face.

And with that Margon clicked his fingers and in an instant the beast lept into the air with a screeching howl, light glinted off the Targ's razor teeth.

Dunn instantly moved his finger and his phaser lit up, the orange beam hit a collection of Borg filled glasses and the yellow acidic liquid exploded hitting Margon, the beast and Dunn himself.  Some of it even splashed onto the squirming Quinn.  The beast caught the main impact of the burning liquid but it was Margon who screamed more. Part of the skin on his face burned and seeped away, his arms flailing in the air like a trapped mouse in a cage.

The restraints on Captain Quinn's right arm were burning away.  The acid smoke rose to meet the green haze that was encroaching upon them.

Dunn's right arm that had held the phaser had too been caught with the liquid and he had ran to the side of the room, past the dazed body of Quinn and had manically began washing his arm in the water. Dunn didn't loose his gaze from the screaming Margon.

"Where's your medical expertease now Doctor?"  yelled Dunn.

Margon dropped to his knees his left hand holding the remains of the side of his face.  He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small cylinder.  He put it up to his mouth as the gas reached his face and took a deep breath.   Margon looked up his eyes aflame.  He leveled his gaze at Dunn  took the object from his mouth and hissed "You will pay Mr. Dunn, you will pay dearly I have the antidote, something I suspect would come in handy right about now"

Dunn's head began to spin, the gas was taking it's toll.  He had to get out of this room.  The Targ lay steaming on the floor.  He could only start for the door.  He stumbled and fell onto Quinn.  He tried to grab himself before he crashed to the floor taking the metal instruments that lay on the tray next to the metal table. The surgical tools fell on him, two of the scalpels sunk into his neck and Dunn could barely make out the sounds of the Dr. beside him.

Margon wasted no time in injecting Quinn with a serum that stopped Nathan from gasping for air.  He held a cloth to his burning face and breathed from his respirator.  What he didn't expect was the Captain's next move.

Quinn's right arm was free now, and even though he could feel his skin burning from the acid he took advantage of Margon's precarious position.  With one movement his fist struck Margon's injured cheek causing the Dr. to cry out in pain and fall back.  The metallic device fell out of his mouth and he began to choke.  He couldn't keep his balance and tumbled over Dunn onto the floor.

Nathan wasted no time in trying to free his other bonds, if he was going to escape, now was his chance.

The faceless drone walked calmly over to the lifeless men on the floor, bent down and began to mop up the acid stained floor as it's black fingers began to steam.

[Rico]

JOINT POST BY RICO & JEN


To David Locke, war was an insatiable hunger. Allowing others to fight for him was the one "benefit" of imperial rule that he could do without. He wanted to fill his belly with battle, not endure its painful rumble. He did obtain some satisfaction in watching the victories of his soldiers, but part of him longed to return his life as a warrior.  His title demanded that he remain out of harm's way, but he always managed to bend that rule...as he had in this instance. The Tiberius was in the midst of a dangerous battle and he was enjoying every minute of it.

Admiral Talbot turned his bridge over to Commander Zremm, and entered the Ready Room with David.  "Emperor, you look well sir."  Talbot said as he moved his arm in salute, and scanned the Terran with his eyes.  It was an old habit he had formed. He used it study a person he didn't trust when he was in a private area with them... and Talbot had never trusted Emperor David Locke.

"Dispense with the false pleasantries, Admiral.  What of the battle?"  replied David, addressing the much older man with a sharp and impatient tone. The Emperor recognized the fact that his brusque nature was intimidating to many, and he utilized this quality at every opportunity.  In this case however, the Admiral seemed unaffected by his curt manner. Though he was of a lower class, David respected the Romulan half-breed.  He eyed the Admiral in silence a moment before a slight grin cracked his stern expression.

"The fleet has the Borg on the run.  We have destroyed or disabled several of those cybernetic monstrosities they call ships, and are performing a sweep of the area.  Long range scans detect no other Borg vessels within range."  The tall man said as he paced  before the seated Emperor.  Something had him more on edge today and he couldn't quite figure out what it was.

A melodic chime interrupted his thought, and the door to the Ready Room whisked open. Sevryll inclined her head decorously to each of the men, "forgive my intrusion..."

The Emperor's fondness for the Vulcan betrayed him, and his hardhearted expression softened, "come in," said smoothly, and gestured for her to enter. Sevryll moved to stand beside the seated Emperor. David turned back to Talbot, , "Continue!" He snapped in an effort to regain the knife-edge of his voice.

As the men proceeded with their discussion, the Emperor's Mistress subconsciously raised an eyebrow in realization. She shifted her gaze to the Admiral and discreetly studied Talbot's face. The man's rigid demeanor did not alter, and his eyes did not move to meet her own.

The Cooperative's gift of enhanced telepathy, granted Sevryll the ability to sense the thoughts and feelings of others, while her Vulcan disciplines enabled her to block the unwanted probes of other telepaths. Both abilities proved to be valuable instruments of espionage, and she used them sparingly in order to avert detection.

Outside the Ready Room, the Vulcan felt an air of hostility. Now that she was in the same room that feeling was intensified. Sevryll watched the Admiral with interest as he briefed David. The resentment she perceived was emanating from the older officer, and bubbling just out range of obvious detection. His thoughts were well guarded, but she could sense the contempt he held for David just below the surface. She wondered what injustice had befallen the Admiral and pondered whether his rage could be useful to them both.

As Talbot discussed the status of the Tiberius and her damaged systems, a small tingling sensation started to form in the back of his mind.  It was subtle, but it began to distract him.  Even though his mind was no where near as disciplined or telepathic as a full Vulcan or even full Romulan for that matter, the Admiral had enough history dealing with telepaths over the years to know when he was being scanned - even the most subtle probes failed to escape his notice.  He quickly worked to bury the emotions that had begun to take over, as the Emperor taunted him with questions he already knew the answers to.  Talbot shot a quick glance to the beautiful Vulcan woman at the side of the Emperor and let slip a slight smile.  She averted her eyes and brushed back a lock of black hair in a casual fashion, but she knew Talbot had somehow detected her probe.  She chanced another look at Talbot and saw his smile stretching to a grin - a sight she seldom had seen appear on the man's face.

"Emperor, pardon my asking, but is it important for Sevryll to hear of these military matters?  I'm certain she can find something more interesting to attend to. Perhaps she might use her 'special gifts' on this Terran we found on the Borg King's vessel.  I'm certain he might appreciate a visit from such an attractive woman after being amongst so many ugly drones.  I think we can..."  Talbot was cut off as the Emperor leaped to his feet and grabbed the larger man by the tunic, pushing him hard against the bulkhead.  In a heartbeat, he had a blade pressed to the Admiral's throat.  A small cut began to form and a trickle of green streamed down the Admiral's neck.

"You forget your place, Talbot.  I've killed men for less.  Just say the word my love, and I will gut the half-breed.  I'm sure your successor, Zremm, would avoid the mistake of insulting my mistress."  Few things brought this type of response from David, except the matters involving the woman he loved.  Sevryll knew well that all she had to do was bow her head and Talbot's life would be over. Yet she could see that the Admiral did not fear death. In fact, she sensed that he might welcome it.  The blatant disregard for life that glinted in Talbot's eyes was all too familiar, for it shone in her own as well. Only the loss of a mate could ignite an inferno such as the one she felt smoldering within Talbot. Why hadn't he used his hate to destroy David? The question was a curiosity that begged to be answered.

"Please..." she gasped. "I am honored by your offer, Emperor... but I was not offended." David stared at the Vulcan a moment, giving her ample opportunity to change her mind. When she failed to do so, he patted the side of Talbot's face with a black gloved hand.

"You are fortunate that she is so forgiving. You are a great warrior, Talbot... a valuable asset to the Empire, but your perceived value will vanish like ice in hell if you even breath Sevryll's name in polite greetings." The Emperor flashed a grin at Talbot, "thank you for the briefing, Admiral."

While the seething Terran still faced the Admiral, the Romulan heard Sevryll's voice echo in his mind, "I know your loss, brother...He has brought ruin upon me as well. I intend to see him suffer for it. Will you help me?" David turned back to Sevryll and she left the Ready Room on his arm.  As she left, she caught Talbot giving her a quick nod of his head and slight smile.  Sevryll knew at once she had added Talbot to her growing list of allies.

[wraith1701]

Mirror Universe-


Traveling at the relatively slow speed of warp 3, the assemblage of Klingon and Cardassian warships known as The 6th Fleet crept towards Terran space, following the lead of KoraQ's flagship.  At the head of the collection of Birds Of Prey, D-type Battle Cruisers, Hedeki Fighters, and Galor attack ships, was an odd vessel that looked like a hybrid of Klingon and Terran technology.  The small ship had a vaguely saucer-shaped profile, but the port and starboard sides of the saucer were stretched out and swept down like the wings of a Bird Of Prey.  Integrated into the thick, wing-like protrusions were Terran-style warp nacelles.  On the front of each wing, the hot red oval of an active bussard collector glowed brightly.  A few meters next to each of the forward facing bussards was a pulse disruptor cannon, giving the ship the ability to emit twin bursts of rapid-fire disruptive energy at any target in its path. 

On the bridge of the odd-looking ship, an equally odd crew sat focused on their stations.  In the command chair sat a tall, lanky Klingon Captain, his dusky face scarred from countless battles.  At each of the stations lining the wall of the bridge sat a motley collection of Klingons, Cardassians, and Terran slaves.  At communications, a svelte Cardassian woman turned to address the brooding Klingon.  "Captain Vass, we are receiving a transmission from the flagship.  Audio only." 

"Well, let's hear it,  Seska," he replied.  With the press of a button, the familiar booming voice of Admiral KoraQ echoed from the speakers- "KoraQ to Alliance fleet.  Initiate program 'tlhIngan qul'."

As the motley crew exchanged looks of confusion, the Klingon captain smiled grimly to himself.  'TlhIngan qul', or 'Klingon Fire', was a last resort plan, only to be put into effect if the Borg should reappear.  Known only to a select few members of the Defense Force, it involved arming a device now installed on a few, select Klingon ships-- a Thalaron Generator.  Once armed, the device turned the ship housing it into a Thalaron warhead.  On detonation, the generator would create a cascading biogenic pulse of Thalaron radiation large enough to encompass a praxis-sized moon. 

Scorned by many societies because of its deadly nature, Thalaron radiation consumed organic material at the subatomic level, causing instant and complete necrosis in every cell it irradiated. Following exposure, all organic matter degenerated into an ash-like material, completely devoid of life.   Theoretically, this weapon would neutralize the half-organic/half-machine Borg, annihilating their organic component and leaving only their dead ships and technology behind. 

Of course, this also meant death for all those aboard any ship deploying the device, but a death earned while dispatching a deadly foe was a good death indeed. 

Unfortunately, the cost of producing a stable Thalaron Generator was prohibitively high, and thus far, only 3 such devices had been completed.  The Klingon Captain felt privileged to be one of the few warriors entrusted to carry the device.  He had no idea which other two ships were similarly armed, but he felt confident that they were in capable hands.  If all else failed, he would eagerly treat his fellow Captains to a round of bloodwine in StoVoKor.

The brooding Captain placed his palm over a sensor on his armrest, and after a quick scan, an adjacent panel sprung open.  Firmly pressing the button within, the Captain turned towards the communications officer.  "Send to the Admiral," the Klingon said.   "This is Captain Vass, activating the device.  Q'plA!"

As the humming of the engines suddenly changed to a deeper, warbling pitch, the bridge lighting dimmed as though experiencing a power drain.   From the rear of the bridge, a haggard Terran slave furtively glanced towards the command chair.  After making a mental note of the location of the sensor panel, the slave turned back to his task of scrubbing the deck plating.  As his chains gently clinked, the hint of a smile crossed his brown, bearded face. 

[ElfManDan]

Joint Post by Jen & Sheppard

The Emperor glanced to Sevryll as the turbolift assended, "and your mind meld told you that he has done this? Are you certain that Rhys hasn't discovered a way to beat the meld?"

"I would know," replied the woman in a whisper. She saw a flash of stars and stumbled back against the turbolift wall as David struck her with an open hand.

"Don't be so sure..." he grumbled.

As her knees started to buckle, he steadied her, pulling her closer to his side. "...I am sorry," he said trying to make amends for his violent temper. "I'm still wound up about Talbot. He insulted you...you should have let me kill him."

He had never hit her before and she was stunned by the action. Sevryll remained silent as her mind began to question just how much power she held over him and if he had become suspicious of her. The lift doors opened and he helped her into the corridor, "wait for me in our quarters, I will return shortly. I have more business to attend to." He dabbed the blood that tricked from her nose and placed a gentle kiss upon her cheek. lifting her chin with his gloved hand, he studied her face a moment then started down the corridor.

----

The Emperor took a seat in the briefing room where Reese had been patiently awaited his arrival. He knew how the Emperor liked his briefings, quick and to the point. Reese jumped right into the update, and opened a galactic map which filled the room, displaying the positions of planets and ships scattered across the quadrant. Reese moved the focal point to a small region of space, several light years from their position. "Reports have indicated that Vangares is in this region. Considering my previous encounter with him I..."

"Vangares is a thorn," David Locke interrupted, "he's hard to remove, but will eventually fall out." The circumstances had changed since David had given Reese the assignment to capture the defector.

"But Emperor, I thought my job was to punish those who plot against you."

"Reese, Reese, Reese, the snare has been set. The rabbit will spring the trap eventually. Patience... you will have your hunter's stew. For now, we must turn our attention to internal matters. We have a more destructive nuisance to exterminate."

"I don't understand," said Reese as he watched the Emperor rake his fingers through the star map and clinch the star at the heart of the Sol System.

"We are hunting moles now, Reese. There are individuals woven within the fabric of our Empire, who are plotting to rip apart what we have worked so hard to mend." The light from the map caused David's fierce eyes to glint like a dagger's blade, as he narrowed them thoughtfully. "I know I can trust you as long as your pockets are filled, " Locke's menacing grin formed deep lines in his face as he leaned forward, "and there isn't anyone else who can pay as well as I can. Your loyalty in this matter is paramount. "

David Reese bowed slightly and struck his fist against his chest in salute, "Yes, Emperor."

"The success of your new mission will make you a very wealthy man."

If this job was as important as it sounded Reese wasn't going to allow the offer of wealth to slip away. He replied without hesitation, "I am committed to serving you, Emperor. What do you require of me?"


"Security," Locke said, " I need you to watch my back. There are several aboard this ship who would see my death as an opportunity."

"Do you know who these people are?" Inquired the Emperor's henchman.

"I have my suspicions." David produced a PADD from a fold in his tunic and passed it to Reese. "Start with these. They've stepped on my toes too often to dismiss them as suspects. I will pay you a bonus if you can prove that the second individual on that list, is a traitor. I never had much use for him anyway."

"A bonus?" Reese inquired.

"Yes, more pay of course. You'll have enough credits for any luxury you desire... a new ship, your own holodeck fantasy, a real woman, what ever you want. The bonus will pay for it all."

"I'll do the job."

"To be honest, you didn't have much of a choice in the matter," said David with a chuckle. "I trust you'll see to our varmint issue. For now, I want you to observe their movements and report back to me... be desecrate."

[X]

The warm humid vanilla scented air of the biomechanical ship clung to Aria as she made her way down one of it's many organically corridors. Natural bioluminescent lit the entire ship with crisp white light and pale blue highlights. Workers and Drones moved with purpose and dedication towards shared objectives. Outside of the seed shaped organic vessel, the bright colors of transwarp danced over the hull. The indigo lights of the advanced drive cast their own light on the flagship of the Cooperative. Thousands of the best and brightest of the Cooperative served as the attendants of their Queen. They were but one of many hubs within the Cooperative that worked in unison to solve the problems that affect her people.

Unlike the Borg that was core in creating her Cooperative, her people were not mindless slaves. She knew the value of independent thought and the difficulties that could come from that thought. The Cooperative succeeded because she knew something that the Borg did not. While the Cooperative were individuals on a conscious level, on a sub conscious level, they were even more tightly bound than their Borg cousins. Technology, biology, and psionic power blended and united the hearts and minds of the Cooperative to their Queen.

In Aria's eyes, the Borg were Locust that moved from world to world, stripping each of anything of value and leaving nothing but dust. She had patterned her Cooperative to behave more like a beehive.  They moved from world to world like the Borg, but they only took a percentage of the population into the Cooperative and the knowledge to recreate the technology that interested them. When they left a world, they left a world that might have small scars, but one that would heal. The worlds they left behind could still thrive and one day they could be harvested once more.

Her children were anomalies. Each member of her synthetic race were given genetic, cybernetic, and nanite enhancements specifically chosen to enhance their ability to contribute to the species. It was through the multi-level unity and her position as the heart of the Cooperative that protected her children from the corrupted nature of their universe. In her attempts to find the cause of the darkness that she saw about her, she found that one act could not unravel and repair her new home.

Centuries of aggression had been grafted to the human genome as a result of augments decisively winning the Eugenics War. The genes of the victors were dispersed by natural selection and new generations throughout humanity. Greater than human abilities might have faded in most, but the heightened aggression of the crude processes managed to thrive with each new generation.

She was but one voice and she could not stop Soong's victory even if she had a stable means to travel to that point. It was far too late. The actions of humanity were a clear reminder of the legacy left behind by Soong. The damage was done and it created a wound that could not simply be treated. For this universe to thrive, she needed to cauterize the infection and start fresh. The Cooperative was that fresh start. They were the scalpel and medicine that would be required to craft a better future.

Now she moved her personal vessel towards a faintly detected signal from her past. It was a signal that could change everything if it held true and brought her to her father. She had long prided herself on granting her children the best. While she had many new genetic enhancements since her arrival, the genes that she inherited from her father still remained. Their unique complexity was the core of her new family. With the El Aurians extinct from Borg attacks, she had to rely on the small portion of those genes that she carried with her instead of what would have a robust gene pool in her original timeline.

If the signal led to her father as she hoped, she would have many questions. She longed to see her father again. She missed her family more than words could convey but she also needed him and select others. The genes he held would create significant advances in Cooperative and strengthen her chosen. It was now only a matter of time until they arrived at the battle, but it was still too slow from her.

Increase speed she ordered her crew. With little hesitation, the ship increased its velocity and rapidly approached the battle. The advanced computers quickly recalculated the travel time of her journey.  She smiled on receiving the new results. It was information that she projected to the entire fleet and her hidden operatives.We will be arriving at the rift shortly and then we shall deal with these questions and threats.

[Trekkygeek]

JOINT POST BY HAWKEYEMEDS & TREKKYGEEK

Sevryll and Petersons voice began to drift away as the comforting solace of sleep began to draw over him.
The image in was hazy at first. Then slowly the image became clearer. The lights behind the tall man obscured his features, only the outline could be seen. Peters shook his head, the pain was immense.

"How many lights?"

The tall man stood still, his hair drawn back.

"How many lights do you see?"

The pain in his head started to throb, blood and sweat mixed together and had begun to block his nostrils so breathing was becoming harder.

"How many lights?"

Peters wondered who this man was, this was unreal. The tall figure began to move and the sudden blast of light caused Peters eyes to burn, he closed them immediately but in that instant his head was jerked back and his eyes forced open.

"How many lights do you see now Mr peters?"

A solo spot light came on but he couldn't close his eyes. The strange man had now clamped his eye lids open.

"There are five lights. How many lights do you see?"

Peters tried to turn his head but that too was now clamped down, the tall man walked around Peters chair slowly hi could see his eyes now, they looked like the devils. The man circled and circled and as his eyes began to dry out and hand hovered over and drops were given.

"This is water at the moment but in this little vile here is..... well let me give you some"

The glass vile tipped slightly and he could see the liquid slowly come out, it seemed ages before the water hit his exposed eye ball. the sudden rush of pain jolted his body and the man let two more droplets of salt water do their job.

"You scream Mr Peters but this is just the start. Will you not answere my questions? Lets start again"

Peters felt his head pull forward the clamps were motorized and he could do nothing about it. The man sat in front of the lights again but this time he could see the features, the hooked nose, the pale face and red eyes of the arch interrogator.

"So now we have got to know each other a bit. How many lights do you see behind me? Its a great piece of questioning this, I learnt it from the best."

Peters could only make out a row of lights, he couldn't count them.

"Still no answer. OK lets go back to two days ago. Why are you aboard this ship?

Suddenly the adrenalin kicked in and Peters looked up defiantly at his interrogator and silently cursed the straps which held him to the chair. He wanted to get up and rip this mans limb from his body but his attempts to struggle free were futile. Rhys spat at D'Callan and it hit him squarely in the eye.

"There", Rhys screamed out.... " Take your lights and get away from me". D'Callan wiped the mess from his eye calmly and looked down on the prone figure of Peters, smiling wickedly.

"Nice comeback traitor, but hardly acid. Now, I'll ask you one last time, Why are you here?"


"Your mother invited me. Apparently all the other men on this ship were not enough for her, she wanted a real man". Rhys laughed hysterically at D'Callan.

D'Callans smile disappeared immediately and was replaced with a scowl, and Rhys  giggled as he saw the interrogator begin to tremble with rage. D'Callan drew a deep breath and exhaled, regaining his composure he turned his back on Peters and made his way to a desk at the back of the room. He picked up an object and slowly turned to face Peters once more. The object in his hand sent
fresh waves of terror through Peters mind. D'Callan noticed the fear on his prisoners face.

"Oh" D'Callan said.. "you recognise a laser scalpel then? You think the pain in your eye is bad now? Well Mr. Peters, you are about to experience a pain like you've not felt before. I'm going to slice nice lumps of flesh from you until you give me the answers I require.

D'Callan moved toward Peters and he switched on the scalpel. A high pitched sound came from the lethal tool. Peters started to struggle once again but he knew it was pointless. As D'Callan drew nearer Rhys Peters started to scream.


"Arggghhh, No. Get away from me, leave me alone".........


Peters awoke from the nightmare screaming.

[iceman]

Peterson was concerned about this development, It meant that D'callans torture techniques were beginning to take its toll on Peters.

Peterson knew first hand, that although the physical torture was brutal the emotional scars that would remain would be much more damaging and much harder to treat.

Very few people have withstood D'callans brand of torture for long and Dr. Peterson knew that they would have to either help Peters get off the ship or he would have to take matters into his own hands and move of his plans for revenge against the Master Interrogator in order to protect Sevryll from being discovered and Peters cracked under the relentless strain of torture, which would continue the moment he returned to D'callans chamber of horrors.

Dr. Peterson stuck a hypo in Peters neck to put him in a deep sleep, it wasn't much, but it would at least relieve him of his pain, if only for a short period of time.

[Meds]

They say the eyes show the soul, in the case of Joseph D'Callan the eyes showed nothing but evil. Patience was not one of his strong points and Dunn had been gone for over half an hour. It was not his habit to go running after the staff but in his own mind he knew Dunn was loyal, and his tardiness meant somthing was wrong.

"Computer locate officer Dunn and Doctor Margon"

The harsh voice of the computer replied back

"Sensors are off line"

D'Callan tilted his head to one side.

"Computer we are in the middle of a battle what the hell do you mean sensors are off line"

"Unable to comply, sensors are off line"

Taking a deep breath D'Callan left his chamber and headed for Margons office, walking around the corner he could see a strange gas floating in the air.

"Computer decontaminate corridors 5 and 6"

A sudden woosh of air and dry chemicals filled the corridors and the light on D'callans belt flashed green. He walked towards the white mist and entered it. The doors to Margons medical bay were shattered, standing in front of it D'Callan stood still listening. Suddenly out of the fog came two pairs of burnt hands.

[Jen]

Joint Post By Jen and Rico

The Tiberius had always been too cold for Sevryll's Vulcan blood, yet the vessel's uncomfortable temperature could not be compared to the frigid nature of the Emperor. He had become unstable—something had changed and she had to learn what that something was. The question was "how". The operative could not risk probing David's mind to validate her misgivings. Such a tactic could prove dangerous should the Emperor detect her telepathic venture. She would have to find another means of gathering the information she needed.

The Vulcan slipped a traditional robe over her shoulders and gazed into the mirror hanging within the lavatory.  He had slapped her hard, but not hard enough to cause serious physical trauma. She traced the bridge of her tender nose with the tips of her trembling fingers.  Noticing their tremor, she raised her hands before her to examine them. It wasn't the incident with David in the turbolift, nor the lack of warmth aboard the ship that caused them to shake.  Arching a brow, she moved one hand to her abdomen in response to the flutter of movement she felt within. The presence she sensed in her womb, was the obvious culprit.

She could not fault them for her ill health. Their hybrid genetics were foreign, and her body strove to reject the half-human, fraternal twins. Initially, she determined that she would rather die than carry the progeny of her husband's murderer. Her heart had known only the throb of anguish and her mind grasped only the hope of retribution. These truths remained, but one misery was lifted—her period of solitude had been broken by the rare wonders within her. Swiftly her psychic awareness of the unborn twins, fostered a resilient bond.

Four weeks had passed, and still only one individual knew of Sevryll's pregnancy. Doctor Peterson had worked countless hours to formulate a drug that would enable her to carry the children to term. So far it had been successful, though he warned that  stress could negate the drug's capabilities. Her recent assignment would end soon, and the Cooperative would remove her from her the dreadful life she was forced to endure. Yet, in order to ensure success, she would require more aid.

Sevryll remembered her unspoken exchange with Admiral Talbot. The moment she sensed his mind she felt a comradery, for he too possessed a blazing hatred for the Emperor. Perhaps we should stoke our fires with the machinations of revenge, she thought to herself. The Vulcan closed her eyes and plunged the fingers of her consciousness into a stream of voices. She waded deeper and deeper into the torrent of minds... moving closer to the solitary voice that shouted above all the others. As she drew nearer she recognized it as the Admiral's. Talbot's hoarse mind shouted, a woman's name. 

Only the loss of one's consort could fuel such emotion. I understand your desire for vengeance... She reached out and tethered her mind to Talbot's.  The Vulcan sensed his distrust. She would help him  understand that her intentions toward him, were not malicious. Sevryll hesitated a moment, before unlocking the memory of her husband's assimilation, which she kept buried deep within. She gasped as the pain of that moment washed over her and flowed toward Talbot. It took all her strength to contain the flood of agony, as she gingerly offered Talbot a glance at the terrifying physical experience that she shared with Tevian.

Her body jerked as his abrupt reply boomed in her mind.  I do not welcome attempts to invade my mind, Vulcan! he thought from the command chair, You have my sympathies, but do not presume to understand me.  I have only allowed you a small glimpse of who I am... But, as the Terrans are fond of saying, now that the cards are on the table I can see that you are looking for an ally.  While I've made no move against Locke, I can't deny that I believe him to be reckless...he is a great threat our future. I'm very tired, maybe too tired of this game that the Empire plays with the lives of our loved ones—lives like my wife, Lydia's.  Sevryll perceived a pang of anguish as he thought of his wife. It was a deep wound, but something else made the lesion untreatable. She pulled at a single thread of information and unraveled the detail—he and Lydia had no children...he had nothing left of her. Sirach Talbot put his hand up to his head and rested his eyes.  The grief began to overtake him; he was in command of the Emperor's fleet and in control of everything but his own emotions. Slowly, a blanket of comfort covered his mind and the pain receded.  Talbot felt Sevryll pushing her mental discipline through the link, lending him the strength to suppress his overwhelming emotions.

I sensed your anger and pain, and believed we could assist one another. I ask pardon for the intrusion, she thought.

His mind was cleared of the anguish long enough to follow the link back to the Vulcan. She sensed the movement and dropped her guard—allowing him access to certain knowledge.  As he listened to her thoughts, he detected two rapid heartbeats within her... I sense the new lives you carry, Sevryll. You risk much by sharing this information with me. His slight smile shrank as he learned more of her relationship with David and his treatment of her. I think the only thing this Terran truly loves is power.  You have my support in whatever you may be planning...I thank you for the help and comfort you have given me,.... and so began their coup d'état.

Pleased by the result of their communication, Sevryll severed the link with Talbot and cast her probe in a new direction.  As she waded through the sea of undulating thoughts, in search of Doctor Peterson, she grazed a compelling mind... a telepath's mind. She tried to flee detection, but he secured his consciousness to hers...holding her in place. She lashed out, in an attempt to break the connection, but to no avail. Pleading for help, the telepath pushed the image of a star ship into her mind. He felt her confusion and presented her with another image. Sevryll stopped struggling when she saw herself speaking to the man she had inadvertently discovered, Help me Sevryll...

[Geekyfanboy]

Two bodies lay at the feet of the large Borg standing in front of them. "I have no need for failure." Locutus said as he grabbed Borg Took by the neck and lifted him into the air. Nic did not struggle and just hung there limply. "You three failed me and let Captain Quinn escape after all that work of bringing him to us. These two were not so lucky, but I may be able to use you, I do not know why but Captain Quinn has a fondness for you and I may be able to use that to my advantage." He dropped Borg Took who fell to the hard metal surface with a clang. Borg Took stood and continued with his duties not aware that he was seconds from death.

The battle was not going well for the Borg, the Empire was putting a good fight and the Alliance had just joined in and now the Borg were out numbered and needed reinforcement. Locutus ordered two more vessels to join in the battle and moments later a transwarp conduit opened and two large Borg sphere emerged and joined in the fight.  Locutus had his mind set on one thing.. They must retrieve Captain Quinn at any cost... The Borg collective's survival depended on it.

[Geekyfanboy]

Quinn took deep slow breaths as the toxic gas that was filling his lungs was now no longer effecting him.  He could feel the acid burning his face and hands. As he raised his hand to touch his face he noticed that one of his restraints was no longer holding him down. He looked around and focus his attention on Margon who was crawling on the floor gasping for air looking for his respirator, while another man was laying on the floor face down but Nathan could not tell who it was. Quinn knew this was his only chance to escape. He unlatched the strap that was holding his other arm down and reached behind his head to pull out the device that Margon had shoved into the back of his skull. Nathan pulled hard and let out a cry of pain as the device separated itself from Nathan's skull. He looked around for some bandages to plug the hole, but couldn't find anything. Quinn tore a piece of his uniform and painfully shoved it into the back of his head. Quinn let out another scream of agony. He felt queasy and forced himself not to pass out. He continued to take deep breaths and slowly slide himself off the table. The air was filled with the toxic green gas, which made it difficult to see. He stepped over the unconscious mans body and stumbled his way to the destroyed doors. Suddenly he felt someone grab his pant leg. Quinn looked down in shock to see Margon's mutilated face gasping for air looking back up at him. Margon held onto Quinn's leg so tightly that Nathan couldn't shake him off. Finally Quinn turned and took his other leg and kicked Margon in the face breaking his nose. "Sorry my friend" Quinn said as Margon screamed in pain and released Quinn's leg. Nathan hobbled out of Margon's lab.

The hall was filled with the green gas bellowing from Margon's office.  Nathan fell to his knees and grabbed his face as pain coursed through his body. He felt a metal circular disc protruding from his left cheek and another one just above his right eye. The Borg nano probes were doing their job. Nathan slowly picked himself up and held onto the side of the corridor until he found a jefferies tube access panel. He opened the hatch and crawled inside. As he was pulling the door shut he heard a man's voice. "Computer decontaminate corridors 5 and 6" Quinn quickly shut the door as the man walked by.  He slowly crawled down the jefferies tubes until he couldn't go any further. He sat up and rested his head on the bulkhead. He looked down at the place where the acid had burned his hand and noticed that it was no longer blacken skin, there was now fresh pink skin, the wounds were healing themselves. Borg nano probes must be repairing the burns, Quinn thought to himself as he pulled out the piece of cloth he had shoved into the back of his head to prevent any brain fluid from escaping and sure enough the hole was mending. Nathan knew he couldn't stay here for long. Someone would find out he had escaped and would be looking for him. His best bet was to make his way to a shuttle bay and steal a shuttlecraft. Quinn looked around and noticed some markings on of the jefferies tube that identified that he was in section 7 junction 65 and below that was the ships' name. 'USS Tiberius' Quinn smiled from ear to ear, he knew this ship like the back of his hand.  Nathan sat there and stretched out his mind probing the thoughts of the crew, he needed to gather as much information as he could. Suddenly he came across a mind he knew very well... Sevryll???

[Meds]

D'Callan shot back in defence as the mutilated face of Margon came out of the darkness.

"Strewth. Your cosmetic surgery gone down the dunny Margon."

Margons outstretched hands grappled wildly as he continued to stagger forward, D'Callan dodged to the left and punched him in his wounds. Margon screamed in pain and fell to his knees, blood gushed from his broken nose and skin flapped from the burns.

"What have you done with our guest Margon?"

D'Callan quickly looked up to see the debris and then the shaking body of Dunn on the floor. To the right he could see the torn straps from where the prisoner had been tied.

"I'm guessing and this is only a guess that you have let our guest go for a walk. The Emperor will not be too happy with you. And I look forward to telling him"

D'Callan stood and kicked Margin in the ribs.

"If you can walk then get up Dunn"

Turning D'Callan walked out into the corridor and scanned the area. In his mind he calculated where the prisoner would go. Seeing some Jeffrie tube hatches he went to walk over to it but then stopped, he turned slowly and looked at a staggering Dunn who was helping Margon up. He flicked his eyes up in disbelief.

"D'Callan to the Emperor. Doctor Margon has let the prisoner escape. I suggest a full security sweep of the ship. Sensors are off line so it will have to be manual"

D'Callan knew the Emperor would not reply but would still be seething that Margon had let the prisoner go. This made him smile, but in the back of his head something bothered him. Why were the ships sensors off line. He didn't have time to go and interrogate everyone who had access to the ships security sensors. His gut instinct kicked in, he knew that the Vulcan scourge could be to blame. And with that he opted to find her.