Star Trek - [Mirror Universe 003]

by Shards

  She smelled nice. A familiar smell. He couldn't place it.

  He looked over her shoulder, at the mirror on the wall, and realized the whole time he'd been on this ship, he had yet to see the stars. Had yet to see anything other than this tiny room and the bigger one down the hall.

  "How long till we reach Vulcan?" he asked.

  "Soon enough."

  "You'll wake me. I want to be there. I want to help."

  "Of course. I'll wake you." She smiled again.

  Tucker closed his eyes.

  Images flashed through his mind. The hospital room and Phlox leaning over him. Reed and his agonizer. The Empress.

  "You are a gentle lover, Commander."

  He was in her bedchamber. In the palace in Kyoto.

  She propped herself up on one elbow. "Tell me again, what you were saying before..."

  "They built it into all their ships," he said. "I found a reference in Defiant's computer banks."

  The Empress's eyes flashed. The Federation-the mirror universe-these were dangerous topics of conversation. She'd wiped Defiant's computers clean long ago, had only made the old records accessible to Tucker and his staff recently, for them to refer to during Nobunaga's construction.

  He hurried on with his explanation. "It lets one ship's computer take control of multiple vessels. So you can have split-second battlefield coordination-attack runs, that sort of thing. We build it into Nobunaga; it would enable you always to have ultimate control of the vessel."

  Her eyes flashed again, this time with pleasure. "I begin to see your point, Commander."

  "Of course, it only works over relatively short distances. But still-"

  "Still." She smiled. He felt as if he could read her mind, for a second.

  What happened long ago with Archer, and Enterprise, would never happen again.

  "You are a gentle lover, Commander."

  He smiled. "You said that already."

  "I, however..."

  She raised herself above him. Straddled him.

  He couldn't move.

  He was in the hospital again, in Kyoto. Strapped to his bed.

  The door opened. Phlox entered with his cart.

  He looked up and shook his head.

  "She's not happy with you," the doctor said. "The Empress. Not happy at all."

  Phlox came closer; metal gleamed. He flipped switches; electricity sparked.

  An alarm sounded. All quarters.

  Tucker sat up in his bed. In his room, on Ulysses.

  The door opened.

  A figure stood in the light from the hall. A woman. She moved into the room; her features came into focus.

  T'Pol.

  "Come with me," she said. "Hurry."

  "What's going on?" Tucker sat up, still disoriented.

  "Hurry," she said again.

  She took him by the hand, pulled him out of his quarters, down the corridor into the mess.

  The two older Vulcans were there. So were Robin and Tuck from the bar, back in Kyoto. They had all been staring at the viewscreen.

  They all turned to stare at him now.

  "Your concern was justified, Commander," Leandra said. "Nobunaga is not lowering her shields."

  Tucker sat, trying to get his bearings. "So, what do we do?"

  The hawk-nosed man-Robin-stepped forward.

  "Whatever we decide, we have to do it quickly. They're sending over a boarding party, to check out the ship. To make sure it's safe."

  "If they board that shuttle, they'll find the captain. And the others. They'll kill them," Leandra said. "T'Pol will die."

  Tucker frowned. "But-" He looked over at T'Pol. "T'Pol's here."

  "Of course." Leandra smiled. "I misspoke."

  There was silence.

  "So, what do we do?" Tucker asked again.

  Leandra stepped forward. "I have an idea," she said. "What about the prefix code?"

  Tucker blinked.

  The prefix code.

  "Right," he said. "I don't know why I didn't think of that before."

  "It doesn't really matter, does it?" Leandra smiled. "The point is, with the code, we can lower the shields ourselves. We can take over the whole ship."

  "That's right." Tucker nodded. That's how it worked-the prefix code. He'd programmed it into Nobunaga at the Empress's command. So that she would have ultimate control of the vessel, in case...

  He frowned.

  "Tell it to me, quickly," Leandra said. "They're on the way."

  "They're almost there." The older Vulcan stood next to the viewscreen and pointed at it. "See?"

  Tucker followed the man's arm, looked where he was pointing.

  For a second, the wall itself seemed to waver. Instead of the viewscreen, he saw-he thought he saw-a mirror.

  And then the star chart appeared and gave him a view of the tactical situation. The shuttle and the starship. Nobunaga.

  Nobunaga.

  The message light was blinking.

  "I hear you're building a ship," the captain said. "As powerful as Defiant."

  "How did you hear that?"

  "You can't do it, Trip. You can't let her have that much power."

  "So what am I supposed to do?"

  "The right thing," Archer said.

  "Destroy it?"

  "Unless you have a better idea."

  Tucker frowned.

  No, he was about to say.

  And then he remembered.

  The code.

  "Tell it to me." Leandra gritted her teeth. "So we can transmit it."

  She was on the verge of losing her temper, Tucker saw. He should tell her the code. There was no reason not to tell her the code.

  Was there?

  He looked up at the viewscreen and frowned.

  "Why aren't we on the bridge?"

  Leandra walked around in front of him, put both her hands on his shoulders, leaned into his face.

  "What does it matter where we are? We can transmit from anywhere. Now tell me the code! Before it's too late."

  "We were fired on." The hawk-nosed man stepped forward. "Some structural damage. That's why the all-quarters alarm."

  "Ah." Tucker nodded. That made sense.

  "Access to the bridge is temporarily blocked," the man continued.

  "So tell me." Leandra's eyes blazed fire. "The prefix code."

  He inhaled her scent. It was so familiar...

  His head began to pound. Harder than ever before.

  He looked up at her again, and something stirred at the back of his mind.

  The truth.

  "No," he said. "Oh God no."

  The room around him began to waver.

  The hawk-nosed man cursed.

  "Look at him," he said. "Look at his eyes. He's coming out of it."

  The fat man nodded. "Without a doubt."

  "The code!" Leandra screamed. "Tell me the code!"

  Her hands were still on his shoulders; she shook him. Tucker felt something snap.

  The pain there, though, was nothing compared to the pain in his head. The pounding in his skull.

  He screamed too then.

  His head felt like it was going to explode.

  T'Pol stepped forward. "Let me," she said, and put her hands on his forehead.

  The pain stopped.

  She looked him in the eye.

  And then her voice was in his head.

  Courage. Be strong.

  She stepped back, which was when Trip became aware that everything around him had changed.

  He was no longer aboard Ulysses. He was in his hospital room, at Kyoto.

  He had never left.

  The hawk-nosed man was Reed.

  The fat man, Phlox.

  And Leandra...

  "What did you do?" the Empress demanded, glaring at T'Pol.

  "His mind was breaking down. The image projectors, the consistent mental intrusions. I feared we would lose him entirely."

  "I don't care about him!" Hoshi screamed. "I want my shi
p. Where is my ship?"

  Tucker watched her rant and barely-just barely-kept himself from smiling.

  He remembered everything now.

  Building Nobunaga, embedding the prefix code. Chasing the rebels. Archer's message. Changing sides. Giving the captain the key to the Empress's brand-spanking-new starship. Giving the rebels a weapon that, at last, could match Defiant.

  Being captured. Being tortured. Physically, first, and then-

  "Rip it out of his mind," the Empress said. "Get me that code. Now."

  T'Pol nodded. "I will do as you wish, of course. However, if we cause permanent damage-"

  The Empress let out a scream of frustration and left the room.

  Reed started to follow, then stopped at the door. He looked at Phlox first and then at T'Pol.

  "Let's do it again, shall we? Until we get it right?"

  T'Pol and Phlox nodded.

  Tucker felt his stomach turn over.

  Again? How many times-

  He tried to catch T'Pol's eye. She wouldn't look at him.

  "Progress reports every hour," Reed said.

  "Every hour." Phlox nodded. "You're saying we shouldn't sleep?"

  Reed glared at him and left the room.

  The doctor shook his head. "No sense of humor, that man." He walked to the far corner and pulled his cart forward. He looked up at T'Pol.

  "Do you want to go first, or shall I?"

  "You," T'Pol said. "I have had quite enough for the moment."

  "Really?" Phlox smiled again. "Not going soft on us, are you?"

  She reached up and pulled off her wig.

  "Of course not," she said.

  Her face was blank, expressionless, emotionless.

  Courage. Be strong.

  Oh God, Tucker thought. Had he imagined that, too?

  Phlox stepped forward. His eyes glittered.

  Metal gleamed.

  "Memory," he said. "Such an interesting phenomenon. Don't you agree?"

  Tucker closed his eyes and braced himself.

  Ill Winds

  Dayton Ward & Kevin Dilmore

  HISTORIAN'S NOTE: "Ill Winds" takes place after 2245 (ACE) and before Captain Christopher Pike takes command of the Terran Empire Starship Enterprise in 2251 (Star Trek).

  Dayton Ward is a software developer, having become a slave to Corporate America after spending eleven years in the U.S. Marine Corps. When asked, he'll tell you that he joined the military soon after high school because he'd grown tired of people telling him what to do all the time. If you get the chance, be sure to ask him how well that worked out. In addition to the numerous credits he shares with friend and co-writer Kevin Dilmore, he is the author of the Star Trek novel In the Name of Honor and the science fiction novels The Last World War and The Genesis Protocol, as well as short stories that have appeared in the first three Star Trek: Strange New Worlds anthologies, the Yard Dog Press collection Houston, We've Got Bubbas, DownInTheCellar.com, Kansas City Voices magazine, and the Star Trek: New Frontier anthology No Limits. Though he currently lives in Kansas City with his wife and daughters, Dayton is a Florida native and still maintains a torrid long-distance romance with his beloved Tampa Bay Buccaneers. Visit him on the web at www.daytonward.com.

  Kevin Dilmore for more than eight years was a contributing writer to Star Trek Communicator, penning news stories and personality profiles for the bimonthly publication of the Official Star Trek Fan Club. On the storytelling side of things, his story "The Road to Edos" was published as part of the Star Trek: New Frontier anthology No Limits. With Dayton Ward, his work includes stories for the anthology Star Trek: Tales of the Dominion War, the Star Trek: The Next Generation novels A Time to Sow and A Time to Harvest, the Star Trek: Vanguard novel Summon the Thunder, the Star Trek: Enterprise novel Age of the Empress, and ten installments of the original e-book series Star Trek: S.C.E. and Star Trek: Corps of Engineers. A graduate of the University of Kansas, Kevin works as a senior writer for Hallmark Cards in Kansas City, Missouri.

  Captain Nathan Thorpe stood at rigid attention in the center of his own quarters aboard the I.S.S. Indomitable, fighting the urge to vomit.

  Bile rose in his throat, and he swallowed, forcing it down for the moment. Feeling a line of sweat trickling down the left side of his face, Thorpe dared not reach up to wipe it away. Despite the lack of personal guards to stop him, the idea of attempting to draw the phaser or dagger on his belt seemed ludicrous. While the reputations and martial prowess of many high-ranking Starfleet officers were fraught with exaggeration-if not outright lies-Thorpe knew from firsthand observation that such was not the case with the officer now standing before him, a man whose very name evoked fear throughout the Terran Empire's Starfleet.

  Commodore Robert April.

  The commodore was an imposing man with thinning brown hair swept back from his face. His physique was trim and athletic, with lean yet still-muscled arms extending from his sleeveless gold tunic. In one hand, he carried the data slate Thorpe had given him upon his arrival, which contained updated reports on the damage Indomitable had suffered during its recent encounter with Klingon warships, as well as the current status of the crew's repair efforts.

  "Your crew is to be commended, Captain," April said, standing before the teak curio cabinet Thorpe had placed near the bed in the far corner of his quarters' sleeping area. "The progress they've made in such a short time is noteworthy."

  "Thank you, Commodore," Thorpe replied, feeling his throat tighten.

  Without looking away from the cabinet, April added, "Of course, none of that effort likely would've been necessary if you'd made wiser decisions." He said nothing more for several moments, engrossed in the collection of books, photographs, and other keepsakes arrayed atop the curio's six shelves-mementos Thorpe had accumulated during his Starfleet career. April seemed particularly interested in the pictures of Thorpe's wife and family.

  "You're a widower, Captain," the commodore said after what to Thorpe felt like an eternity. "Is that correct?"