Star Trek: Season 8 - The Perfect Reflection

Started by Jen, August 22, 2008, 09:07:05 PM

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Joint post by Jen and  Kenny

Even in his weakened state, the superior power of Nathan's telepathy easily restrained Sevryll. Through the link, he pushed memories of his Sevryll, and their experiences aboard his Tiberius, into her mind.

With a great effort, she managed to force a single thought back at Nathan, I...DON'T...KNOW YOU.

I am Captain Nathaniel Jacob Quinn, and I am not from this universe, he cried out through the link.

Quinn continued to flood her with visions.  He had to make her understand, for she was his only hope of getting home.  Her eyes darted about as she surveyed the scenes that only existed within the boundaries of her mind. The freshest images were of Quinn's experience on the Cube, his discussion with the Borg King and his experience in Margon's dark lab.

Her eyes widened as she realized that she and Rhys would no longer be able to access the shield modulation codes from that location—not after the bloody battle that took place there. It was no longer a quiet, secluded area and they couldn't simply walk onto the bridge and take them... or could they?  She thought of Admiral Talbot's promise to aid her cause. He had already disabled the ship's internal sensors, perhaps he would also provide her with the proper codes.

With his last ounce of energy, Quinn conveyed his location to the familiar Vulcan, before passing out...and with that, the connection was severed. Exhausted, Sevryll dropped to her knees then fell in a heap on the floor.

"Wake up mommy," echoed two distant voices. Her eyes struggled to focus on the individuals standing over her. "Wake up mommy...." the voices said in unison once more.

A hypo hiss brought the focus that her vision lacked and she saw David and Casey Peterson kneeling beside her. "Wake up Sevryll," said David tenderly. The melodious hum of a tricorder rang within the Emperor's quarters, "welcome back, k'diwa", said the Emperor as he kissed her forehead. She wanted to laugh at the term of endearment—it was a rather poor attempt at the Vulcan word for 'beloved'...that, and  he didn't actually love her. She started to sit up, but David stopped her, "the doctor says you need to lay still." Was that concern she heard in his voice? She was too weary to attempt to validate it with a telepathic inspection.  Instead, she stared intensely at the man who had struck her, as he placed a pillow under her head. The logic she willingly rejected, whispered to her that the emotion she read on David's face, was in fact a profound guilt. He assumed that he had caused her 'episode'... Let him believe it, she thought.

Without uttering a word the Betazoid-Terran Doctor spoke to her, Perhaps you should tell him now.

Her eyes moved to see Casey; the doctor was busing himself with tricorder readings.

Why!? came her strained reply.

So that he won't strike you again.

Nothing will guarantee that.

Tell him... If you don't, I will. He still deserves to know.

Her eyes flashed, but Casey did not turn his head to see the anger directed at him. David noted the look. He glanced to the doctor and back to Sevryll, "Don't worry k'diwa. The doctor said you'll be fine."  There's that word again... she thought with disgust.

He helped the mistress lay back against the pillow.  She closed her eyes and concentrated on locating Rhys Peters, in order to relay the information regarding Margon's lab, to him.  We must find an alternative means of obtaining the shield modulation codes.

Why? What happened? replied Rhys with a frustrated thought.

A captive named Quinn is the root cause.... D'Callan and Margon are fighting over him. He escaped...we can not allow them to locate him... The Empire stands to gain too much from his abilities.

David's shout of joy abruptly severed Sevryll's link with Rhys. The Emperor had scooped her up into his arms in a light embrace. She was bewildered a moment, before a sudden realization dawned on her. Over his shoulder, she leveled an angry scowl at the doctor who shrugged a half-hearted apology.
Founding co-host of the Anomaly Podcast


A captive named Quinn is the root cause.... D'Callan and Margon are fighting over him. He escaped...we can not allow them to locate him... The Empire stands to gain too much from his abilities.

Suddenly Sevrylls voice was cut off and Rhys wasn't sure he had heard her correctly. She had mentioned someone called Quinn. She must be mistaken or he had misheard, Quinn had died months ago and Peters had been struggling to cope since. He and Quinn had spent much time in each others company and they had grown very close. Peters did not have many friends and he counted Quinn as his closest. In fact, If it hadn't been for Nathan, Rhys would probably have ended up in a gutter somewhere with his throat cut. Quinn had always had a calming effect on the highly strung Peters and he missed him terribly.

A thought entered his mind. He owed so much to Nathan Quinn. If there was a chance that he was alive, then he, Peters, must do all he could to help him escape. All thoughts of latinum and codes left his mind, he had one priority only. He would insist to Sevryll that the only way he would help her would be if he could rescue Nathan Quinn, even if it put his life in danger.
You could learn something from Mr Spock Doctor..... Stop thinking with your glands"


His fingers raced over the panel on the wall.

"Sensors are off line"

D'Callan looked at the blank monitor, his reflection gazed back at him, slowly his eyebrows arched and he glared at himself, it was almost as if the reflection was laughing at him. He turned and headed towards the turbo lift.

"Dunn. When you have finished playing with the good Doctor would you do me a favor and put Mr Worf in the gravity chamber."

D'Callan walked to the turbo lift and Dunns shaken voice chirped through.

"Sir, Doc,.....Doctor Margon has left the area, I......I...can't see very well"

D'callan stopped and bowed his head.

"Here's looking at you Dunn... Just find him"


Mirror Universe-

From his quarters deep within the belly of the cloaked NegVar, KoraQ silently watched the ongoing battle between the Tera'ngans and the Borg.  His viewscreen flickered briefly, no doubt a result of his flagship's cloak interfering with the ship's sensors. 

The Klingon Admiral felt torn- he had no love for the pitiful terrans and their even weaker subjects, but the warrior within him raged to be set free to engage the Borg. 

Even if it meant assisting the Terrans. 

As weak and sneaky as they were, at least they tried to follow the example set by the Klingon/Cardassian alliance.  At least they understand that in the galaxy there were only two types of people--  the Conquerors, and the Conquered. 

The Borg, on the other hand, had no concept of what it meant to live.  They were not driven by a desire for glory and conquest, and they had no thirst for power.  They were cold, soulless machines, driven only by their programming to remake the universe in their image. 

KoraQ's lip curled in a sneer of disgust as he imagined a galaxy populated by bland, mindless drones... a universe with no soul, no honor, and untouched by the warming fires of either passion or righteous hate.

His hardened fist smashed into the viewscreen, sending glossy black shards flying across his desk.

I'll be damned if I let that come to pass!

The Klingon swept the glass-like shards off of his desk, leaving a bloody smear, then violently punched the comm panel.  "This is KoraQ; give me Captian K'Lara!" 

The captain's response issued immediately from the speaker.  "This is K'Lara, Admiral.  What do you want?"

KoraQ smiled in anticipation of the coming fight.  "Raise shields, drop our cloak, and arm all weapons.  Then put me in contact with the human PetaQ in command out there.  I intend to show those soft worms how true warriors deal with the Borg!"



"Be careful, Emperor... her condition is very fragile," warned the doctor.

David spun her once before he lowered her onto the bed. Then suddenly, his ecstatic expression was replaced by a severe glare, "why have you kept this from me?"

Casey interrupted, "they are hybrid children, Emperor."

David glanced over his shoulder at the Terran/Betazoid. Within the Empire, mixed species were the lowest of the low. The doctor nodded respectfully as David turned back to Sevryll. The Emperor's expression softened, "You thought I would reject them because they are half-Vulcan?"

No, I just didn't want you to be happy, you RAVOT!  She thought to herself. "Yes," she said aloud.

"They will be my heirs... I could never discard them. Besides, there is a chance they could luck out, and appear human... If not... I could have them surgically altered."

Sevryll flicked her cool gaze to Casey—the doctor looked away. She rolled her eyes slowly back to David who had a smile ready for her. He waved the doctor out of the room without bothering to thank him for his help.

Peterson gathered his medical kit and bowed to the Emperor who never acknowledged the gesture. He left their quarters with a dark cloud looming over him.  Casey didn't like defying his friend, but he saw the tricorder readouts and knew that the Emperor had abused Sevryll.  Though the blow hadn't been the root caused of her episode, the doctor believed David's knowledge of the pregnancy would protect her from future outbursts.

He headed quickly down the corridor and entered his quarters to find Rhys gone. The doctor began putting away the items in his med kit, but set aside the hypo. One could never be too cautious in the Empire, and so Casey carried a sedative on him at all times, just in case of trouble. Little did he know that he would need it that evening....

The turbo lift door opened and Joseph D'Callan slithered out.  The altercation in Margon's Lab had left him blind in one eye and he held his head at an odd angle, as he strained to see.  The odd posture heightened the interrogator's predatory appearance, as he prowled the corridor in search of his next victim—the individual he blamed, for every issue that arose aboard Tiberius.

He skulked to a control panel in order to access the internal sensors, but stopped when he noticed Doctor Peterson entering his quarters nearby.  Ah yes, the 'personal physician'.... her minion. A feral smile spread across D'Callan's face. The Interrogator crept to Casey's door and flattened his ear against its surface. When he was sure that Peterson was alone, the snake overrode the security lock, and entered the good doctor's quarters.

He waited in the open doorway as his eye adjusted to the darkened room—it appeared empty. Joseph cocked his head to one side then another as his ears strained to rip through the silence in search of Peterson. The hunt was invigorating and D'Callan felt a rush of exhilaration as he took three cautious steps into the room,  "Is there a doctor in the house? " he hissed.

From his hiding place, Casey readied his hypo and slowly rose to confront the intruder. "What do you want D'Callan?" Called the doctor from the shadows.

The interrogator smiled. "I'm looking for a cure..." He whispered as he stepped further into Casey's quarters. The doctor remained hidden within his curtain of shadows, watching Joseph intensely.

"A cure for what? Insanity? I'm not a psychiatrist, D'Callan." Said Doctor Peterson as he silently stepped to a new location.

"It warms the cockles of my heart to know that you have managed to retain your excellent sense of humor, in spite of all the trauma I put you through," chuckled D'Callan. " Speaking of "cockles"....Did you know that the phrase "cockles of your heart" is derived from the Latin description for the heart's chambers, cochleae cordis? It's's widely believed that the word 'cockles' is a corrupted version of 'cochleae', most likely entering the popular vernacular as a form of slang. The prevailing medical opinion of that day and time was that the ventricles of the human heart resembled the concentric shells of small mollusks or snails, also known as 'cochleae' or 'cockles'. The heart is a funny thing isn't it? Mummmmm..." he mused.  "Actually....I'm not looking for a shrink. I need an assisting physician. I'm going to cure an illness, and you're going to help me." D'Callan listened for movement, and heard a footstep to his left. He turned his head in that direction—seeing nothing, he continued. "You see, the Emperor has managed to contract a cancer of the Vulcan variety. I know you've had dealings with this particular disease.  "You have the knowledge I need to stop the spread... With what I glean from you, I will be able to cut this cancer from the Empire. "

D'Callan waited for Casey's reply, in order to pinpoint his position. It was a long wait, but it finally came. He smiled as the doctor answered sharply, "She is with the Emperor, and you would be wise to stay away from her."

D'Callans smile grew larger—his menace equally so. "Why is that Doctor? Is she playing 'house' again?"

Doctor Peterson stepped out of the shadows, dropped the hypo from his sleeve and lifted it up to stab D'Callan in the neck. Luckily for Joseph, Casey stepped within his  peripheral view point. He spun on his heel and parried the doctor's downward blow with a raised forearm then countered with a quick strike to Casey's throat with his right hand.

Peterson fell to one knee gasping for air, and fumbling for the dropped Hypo. D'Callan's laugh reverberated within the cabin. "Its like finding a...needle in a haystack isn't it Doctor?"

At that moment, Casey Peterson looked up to see D'callan's hand glide down and puncture his shoulder with the missing hypo. The sedative worked quickly, and Peterson lost consciousness. " I have to carry him," thought Joseph. "Oh well, no rest for the weary" he said as he threw the doctor over his shoulder and  headed for the turbolift.


With Talbot back in command on the bridge Zremm was out of the center seat again - a position where he felt weaker and more vulnerable.  Talbot may be a tactical genius but Zremm had watched the half-breed lose his edge over the years.  Oh, he still easily won battles but the killer instinct seemed to be gone.  But there was something Zremm noticed just before he left the bridge that made him uneasy.  Something new in Talbot's eyes he saw when he asked for permission to head to engineering to investigate the sensor troubles that made him very uncomfortable.  It was as if Talbot knew something he didn't and that made the Andorian very suspicious.

As Zremm made his way down the corridor towards the main sensor control room near engineering he heard footsteps coming towards him from an adjacent corridor.  His antennae perked up as he noticed a young human engineer approach him.  Zremm motioned for his personal guard to stand ready with a hand sign they each knew very well.

"Commander Zremm, good to see you sir."  The young ensign said giving the traditional salute.

"Is there something you wanted, Ensign,....?"  Zremm said casually.

"Ensign Berman sir, communications technician.  It's interesting what one can hear at my station with just a few modifications."  Berman said with a grin.

"Your point Ensign, I'm very busy at the moment."  Zremm said as he felt his pulse increase.

"Well, let's just say 'blue-boy' that the Admiral might be very interested in certain conversations that I,..."  Berman was cut off in mid sentence as Zremm crashed into his chest and pressed him up against the bulkhead wall.  In a flash his knife was out and on Berman's neck.  Zremm's guard moved in as well and quickly grabbed the unguarded crewman, pinning his arms against his back.

"You are a fool, Berman.  No one threatens me on my ship.  What did you hear?!"  Zremm said, as he moved in close and breathed down on the Terran.

"I heard enough.  If you kill me Zremm, a coded message will be automatically sent to the Admiral.  That is, unless I enter my personal code every four hours.  Now release me and we can talk about my promotion.  You know, that Barton sounds like a..." Berman didn't finish as Zremm twisted his wrist over and quickly slit the ensign's throat, sliding his sharp blade deep across his neck.  He nodded to his guard to let go as Berman uselessly reached up and pressed his hands against the gushing blood streaming from his neck.

"Stupid.  Pathetic human.  Talbot doesn't frighten me."  Zremm said as he watched  the technician slide to the floor and gurgling in pain and shock.

"No,,...please,...."  Berman said softly as his eyes fluttered and became lifeless.

"Clean up this mess and then join me in the sensor room."  Zremm said to his personal guard as he wiped his blade off on Berman's uniform and walked on as if he had simply stepped on a small insect.  For some reason he found himself grinning slightly.  Perhaps my timetable will have to be moved up, he thought to himself as he reached the control room.



Casey Peterson was surprisingly heavy for a man of his size. "Too many replicated pies Doctor? " Grumbled D'Callan, as he lugged his newest victim down the corridor. The Brig's glass door rolled open and Joseph stepped inside, dropped the doctor to the floor and dragged him to the center of the main room.

A tall, thin guard moved from his post to meet the Interrogator, "Doctor Peterson has come back to see us.  I look forward to settling the score—he managed to knock out two of my teeth during his stay with us. I will get my chance to repay him...won't I?"

D'Callan let go of Casey's arm, creating a hollow thud that reverberated within the room. He turned a fierce gaze toward the guard. "Mine..." he growled under his breath.

The guard held his hands up and stepped back a few paces in submission, "Aye, Sir."

D'Callan dragged the doctor to the far wall and glanced back over his shoulder at the guard, "Get over here and help me." The confused man rushed to the Interrogator, who had lifted one of Casey's legs. The guard took the other leg and attached a pair of cuffs to the doctor's ankles. Joseph snatched a control device from the guard's belt, and keyed a lift command. The unconscious doctor was quickly hoisted off the floor by an unseen force—his arms swayed slightly as his body ascended upside down. Another sequence was keyed, and the doctor's upward progression was stopped. D'Callan took a few steps forward and grabbed a fist full of hair with his left hand and turned the doctor's face to study it. With his right hand, the Interrogator pried opened Casey's closed eyelids and inspected his dilated pupils. He let go of the unconscious man and gestured to the guard. The man scrambled to pass D'Callan a cylindrical device. Joseph pushed long, sweaty black strands from his eyes and activated the mechanism on the side of the implement. Green vapor escaped from the apparatus that D'Callan waved in the doctor's purple face.  Casey coughed and moaned. "Rise and shine..." whispered D"Callan as he pulled weighted gloves over his fists. The Interrogator drew back and punched the doctor in the kidneys. Casey swung back and forth, in midair as he cried out in pain.

"Ah, you're awake... good."

Peterson, still groggy from the hypo, slurred a string of defiant curses. His threats soon merged with the growing sound of banging. Bare feet pounded the floor and bruised hands hammered cell walls in unison, as the prisoners joined Peterson in protest...their collective declaration echoed like thunder throughout the Brigg.  "Wait your turn! I can easily make time for you all!" Shouted D'Callan.

The blow of an iron fist soon stopped Doctor Peterson's swearing. The prisoners' protests ceased as Casey swung silently before the Interrogator. D'Callan caught the doctor's jacket and stopped his sway, gently he held it and with his other hand  glided his fist straight into the Doctors nose, causing the septum to shatter.  He then lowered his blood soaked hand into his pocket, and pulled a dirty rag from it. The Interrogator popped the cloth to remove anything foreign from its surface, before gathering it in his hand and mopping the blood from the doctor's open wound.

"t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t. My, that does look nasty doesn't it? Well, it could be much worse."

Dazed, but still coherent, Casey managed to spit a tooth at the Interrogator.
D'Callan picked up the bloody molar and tossed it to the guard. "Here! A replacement tooth for the one you lost!" he laughed then turned back to Casey.

"Let's have a chat...Shall we?  What is your Vulcan harlot up to? I know when people are hiding things from me...and she's up to something. Come on... tell... me... all... you ... know." He said as he playfully tapped the doctor's broken nose with his index finger.

Doctor Peterson stared back at the Interrogator in silent defiance.

"No? Fair enough Doctor."

He waved the guard over. The man grabbed Casey's head and fitted him with a halter. He fixed the bridle to the doctor's head and slipped metal apparatus into his mouth. "Nothing personal, doctor... I just need to pin you down on a few things," said D'Callan. With another command from the control device, the metal apparatus pried open Casey's mouth.  Doctor Peterson struggled against it, while D'Callan waved a long, slender, needle like instrument before his eyes. Knowing what would happen next, the guard looked away.  "You might feel a slight prick..."  said D'Callan with a mocking tone. Casey felt an agonizing shock of pain, as the needle pierced his tongue.

He awoke some time later to see a pile of his own hair on the floor beneath him. He was still hanging by his ankles and his head pounded...but not from the rush of blood to his head. Though they felt as though they weighed more than his entire body, Casey moved one hand to head and felt something protruding from his implant of some type.

"You were very chatty," said D'Callan as he approached the doctor. "...Very, casual. In fact, I actually think we may have actually bonded during our discussion. I was just headed out the door to see the Emperor, I'll be sure to tell him how cooperative you've been."


Hunting moles was apparently easier than hunting rabbits.  David Reese had been watching D'Callan for only an hour when he observed the man carrying Doctor Peterson out of his quarters. Determined to earn the wealth that Locke had offered, the Emperor's henchman eagerly followed the second individual listed on David Locke's list of possible conspirators. 

He trailed the Interrogator all the way to the Brigg, and could go no further. Reese waited for the door to close before activating the listening devices hidden inside, and moved to eavesdrop from a nearby cabin. Hours of punishment and questioning were recorded before D'Callan...and Reese... finally obtained the information they needed.  The henchman would cross three names off the list and retire as a man of great affluence—a man of great power. He gathered his evidence and quickly left to inform the Emperor.

The door chime sounded from the next room. He tried to ignored it, but it continued to repeat its annoying bray until he could no longer focus. In a huff he threw back the blankets and left the bedroom, "WHAT!"

As he tied his robe, his guards entered with David Reese.  "I'm sorry, Emperor... I have information of vital importance..."
Founding co-host of the Anomaly Podcast


Sevryll sat up as the door closed behind David. She could sense the Emperor's annoyance as distinctly as she could hear it in his angry voice. His deep bass rose to question the intruder in the next room then quieted as he received his answer. David's agitation quickly transitioned to virulence, and he shouted a vile cursed to no one in particular. The Vulcan woman moved her feet to the floor, and inched cautiously to the door in an attempt to hear the now lowered voices. Her teeth chattered as the cold air chilled her bare skin. She reached for a nearby robe and wrapped it about her, as her ears strained to detect the muffled conversation.

"I asked for a mole, Reese...and you've brought me a RAT," muttered David. She jumped back as something crashed hard against the door. A heartbeat later it slid open to reveal the hulking Emperor. She stepped backward as he pressed toward her, "Come...HERE...."

She had been compromised. Sevryll glanced about the room, looking for anything she could use as a weapon. Finding nothing, the Vulcan settled into a defensive stance as the Emperor continued to creep slowly toward her. "LEAVE US!" he shouted to the men in the next room.

"D'Callan is coming... He's coming to tell me that you are a traitor..." He inched around the bed as she shifted her weight and set her jaw in anticipation.

"Do you now how he came by this information?" he asked with manufactured composure. "DOCTOR PETERSON VOLUNTEERED IT!" His shout rattled within the room. The veins in his neck and forehead rose above the surface of his skin and his face turned a bright red; Sevryll was cornered and he was enraged. With a blinding speed he grabbed her by the back of the head and pulled her toward him. She threw a hammer fist in defense but he blocked her powerful blow, twisted her wrist and pinned behind her back. "Of course...he was being tortured at the time. People will say just about anything under duress," he calmly continued. "...I wonder what you would say?" He pulled her close and yanked her head back, forcing her to look up at him. Staring into her wide eyes he whispered, "Would you claim to love me?" He studied her shadowed face for a moment longer before pressing a kiss on her lips that she refused to return.

After a long moment, he slowly released his grip, "you seek vengeance—I admire that. Your passion will be passed on to our children—making them all the more worthy of ruling my Empire.... I will spare your life." She narrowed her eyes at the thought of his mercy, for it always came with a price.

"The interrogator seeks my throne, but he lacks the ability to physically take it. To do so, he must prove me weak. D'Callan will come for you, and he expects me to resist... I will not." He turned back to the door, "I know you have certain...abilities that will ensure the safety of our children... See that you use them."

Founding co-host of the Anomaly Podcast



David Locke turned to the view port and pressed his hands against its cold surface. Beyond the porthole, silent explosions flashed—echoing the muted rage that he concealed at the pit of his core. His angry breath fogged the transparent pane as he measured the veracity of their individual testimonies. "He's lying, David." Whispered the Vulcan as she stepped closer to the brooding man.

"You know I am right, Emperor. She kept this secret from you far too long. Why? Because she too was busy making plans for a new life with Casey Peterson. When they weren't "planning their family", they spent their time plotting to steal the throne. " Replied the Interrogator with an eerie calm.

David bristled at the lie, but let it wash over him.

The danger of her situation doubled with Joseph D'Callan's half-truth. If she failed to inform her co-conspirators now, they would fall victim to the Interrogator just as quickly as she and Casey had. With a thought, the telepath warned Talbot and Peters before sending a distress message to the Cooperative Queen.

The room echoed with a solid bang as David punched the glass—the Emperor had made his "decision". His forehead rolled against the view port as he turned his head and glanced over his shoulder at Sevryll.  From the corner of his eye, he could see her lips move as she started to petition to him once more.

Cutting her off, he uttered quietly, "Take her to the brig... Do what you must. D'Callan produced a phaser and shot Sevryll in the back. She fell hard upon the cold metal floor—her dark hair spilling over David's feet.

The Emperor turned back to the view port...he wanted to rip D'Callan's eyes out of his head with his bare hands, but he would have to wait for that...he would have to wait until the moment was right. Though he couldn't wait too long, or Sevryll and their children would be dead. In an effort to be believable, David lifted one foot and shook her raven locks from his boot. The Interrogator stepped forward and slowly knelt beside the unconscious woman. Tenderly, he turned her over and lifted her off the floor. D'Callan glanced at her placid face, pushed the hair out of her eyes and leered. The evil expression contrasted starkly with the gentle way he cradled her in his arms. He nodded to the Emperor who continued to stare into the distance in ominous silence.

Sevryll awoke, suspended in an anti-grav beam. Her eyes darted about. Though she could not see him, she could feel D'Callan's presence." Do you know what a cortical implant is?" came a harsh voice from the shadows.

Sevryll focused on an area of the room, where she had perceived D'Callan's giddy expectation "...I'm sure you intend to demonstrate."

Footsteps scraped the deck as he moved within the blanket of darkness. She flinched as Doctor Peterson appeared from the shadows, and crashed on the floor before her. "Oh, don't worry. Your minion isn't dead.....yet," said D'Callan. The plink of metal on metal sounded as a cortical implant was tossed onto Peterson and bounced onto the floor. "He wouldn't talk. It took me two hours to even make him cry. In the end I had to result to this crude technology to glean information from him. Do you know what he told me..DO YOU!?"

D'callan stepped into the light, just below her and slapped her foot, causing her to spin within the anti-grav beam. The queasiness returned and she closed her eyes in a futile attempt to still the dizziness. He laughed as he caught her foot—abruptly halting her rotation within the beam.

"You didn't think that the Emperor would buy the lie I peddled, did you? Well, it's not really a lie is it? It's more like a half-truth, really." He circled her, like a spider approaching his captured prey.  D'Callan sneered as he reached into the field and placed his knobby hand on her stomach. Sevryll could do nothing to repel him, so she resigned herself to keeping her eyes shut tight.

"The......Emperor's........Child..." he hissed. "Not Casey Peterson's.  I suppose David is too blinded with jealousy to consider a simple DNA test....mmmhmmm....yes....I knew he would be. Obsession makes people like him, stupid." He laughed as he spun her again and then stopped her with a jolt.  "Samson and Delilah... King David and Bathsheba—the wife of Uriah.  Yes, you are his fatal flaw—his Achilles heel. But you knew that didn't you?" He spun her counter clock-wise, "I did too....I realized your power over him years ago. He had a wandering eye then...but it came to rest on you too often."

He stopped the spin and lowered her within the field so that he could whisper in her ear.  "Want to know a secret? Shhhhhhh, it's justbetween you and me.... promise not to tell? I suggested that he send your husband after the Borg to be rid of him. Oh...he didn't like the idea at first, but then again he was very smitten with you and decided that having a harlot was more important than the General's friendship.... " He leaned closer to her ear and bellow,"Green-blooded TROLLOP!"

He caught her foot and pushed her clock-wise in the field. "Oh...oh...feeling sick are we? Do you need to see a doctor? I'm sorry, he seems to be out to LUNCH!" He laughed as he abruptly stopped her revolution. Sevryll attempted to focus her mind on reaching D'Callan's thoughts, but the spinning kept her disoriented.

"At first, I thought you were nothing more than a prostitute, but then I had no idea of your conspiracy until the good Doctor broke his silence. It looks like my plans were very well timed!" He spun on his heal and addressed he prisoners, "There are many within the Emperor's military who believe him to be weakened by this woman...I thought it was enough that she was Vulcan...but it was a nice bonus to learn that you're a spy too!"

He quickly pivoted back to Sevryll, "Those people no longer support him... and all I had to do was set David up to fail.  Did I mention that this obsession has made him stupid? It will be his undoing....but that was your plan all along wasn't it?"

He skipped over the shadows on the floor as he circled Sevryll, "I couldn't kill him, he still has too many supporters and henchmen lurking about. I had to build doubt amongst his leaders, and for years you have unwittingly aided me. The Empire knows that you have plotted against him—I wasted no time in sending that verification to the fleet once I learned of your little scheme. The Emperor was duped by you... a non-Terran... and his supporters will espouse the actions I take to punish him, and claim the throne."

While D'Callan blathered on, Sevryll took the opportunity to penetrating his thoughts. She began flipping through D'Callan's memories, searching for the most painful and traumatic experiences. She drew them forth, activated memories of his mother along with images of his first wife on their wedding day. She then merged them with the images of screaming torture victims and much blood. In less than five seconds, Sevryll managed to simultaneously trigger every hideous memory within D'callans mind. He threw his head back as he held it in agony, "Arggggghhhhhhhhhhhh!"

As he fell to the deck, his control device slipped from his belt and smashed onto the floor—releasing Sevryll from the anti-grav beam. She landed on her feet and approached the man thrashing on the floor before her. With her bare foot she delivered a spin-back kick to the side of his head, causing his bio eye to pop from its socket. It rolled across the cold metal floor and stopped at Doctor Peterson's side. The doctor raised his fist and smashed the little round ball.  Sevryll offered a slight smile to her friend, then bent down and grabbed D'Callan by the collar and raised him to eye level. She held him there a moment, considering her next action then carried him with one hand to the control panel and opened all the cell doors.  "Bring them on trollop!" coughed the Interrogator. His face twisted into a bloody grin.

Peterson stepped to her side with a chair in his hands. Sevryll glanced to him, then to prisoners who had begun to surround them. She dropped the evil man amongst the gathering mob, and slowly backed away...she had work to do.


Mirror Universe-

Lightyears away from the drama unfolding aboard the Tiberius, and from the cloaked Flagship spying on her, the Klingon/Cardassian Alliance's 6th fleet dropped out of warp. 
One by one, the motley collection of warships zipped into a sparsely populated area of space, rapidly decelerating to a relative standstill.  At the head of the fleet, a smallish, oddly shaped craft crept steadily forward.

Seated at the center of the odd ship's bridge, its lanky Klingon Captain slowly scanned a handheld data terminal. The Thalaron Device is armed and charging steadily, he thought.  Woe to any Borg we may encounter!

The Klingon was so engrossed in his data readout, he failed to notice the catlike approach of his Cardassian Communications officer.  He looked up with a jolt, hastily hiding his data pad as she laid a long-nailed hand on his shoulder. 

"What are you reading, Captian?" she breathed into his ear. 

"Just checking the fleet's status," he replied.

The Cardassian woman's hand curled and moved to the Captian's cheek, suggestively caressing one of the many scars marring his face.  As the Klingon's shoulders stiffened, the woman twirled his seat to face her.  Before he could react, she hopped into his lap, straddling him and staring into his eyes.  A smile spread across her gray, lightly scaled face as she leaned into him.  "You can't lie to me, Vass," she whispered.  "I know you far too well," she added with a wink.

The Klingon Captain glanced nervously around the bridge, catching a few of his crew as they quickly returned their attention to their workstations. 

"You forget your place, ensign Seska!" he growled.  Standing abruptly, he tossed her unceremoniously to the deck.  "We may be allies," he snarled, "But you know how the Admiral feels about interracial... relations.  Your behaviour is both dishonorable and innappropriate!"

The Cardassian woman stood gracefully from the deck, dusting off her uniform as she stepped towards the Captain.  "Innappropriate?!?" she hissed.  "That isn't what you said last night!"

The woman spat, then stormed back to her station.  "Perhaps you can polish your Bat'leth yourself from now on," she added. 

In a desperate bid to save face, Vass stomped to the front of the Bridge to address the crew. 

"Attention, warriors!"  he yelled.  As the crew turned, the captain studied the faces arrayed before him, trying to ignore the knowing smirks on several of the officer's faces. 

"We stand on the threshold of greatness!"  he thundered.  "We have been selected by the Admiral and the Regent to serve as one of the Swords of the Alliance!"  Vass' chest puffed with pride as he continued.

"We are about to enter battle with The Borg!" 

The Klingon paced about the bridge, glancing from face to face.  "This ship is one of a select few that has been armed with the Alliance's ultimate weapon-- A Thalaron Generator!  Once deployed, we will be able to reduce the Borg to a pile of cybernetic scrap metal!"

Vass once again took his seat, turning to glare at the officers.  "Of course, we will also be destroyed in the encounter, but IT WILL BE GLORIOUS!  Our names will be remembered for generations to come..."

A wistful smile crossed the Captain's face as he trailed off, envisioning his impending greatness. 

Unnoticed by him, his crew returned to their duties.  Some wore smiles of fierce pride; but more than a few wore looks of uncertainty and trepidation. 

And unnoticed by all, a lowly, ragged Terran slave stepped quietly out of the bridge.  As the bridge doors closed behind him, the slave leaned against the bulkhead, a look of concentration creasing his bearded face.  The world around him seemed to fade away as the slave opened himself to the One True Light of his universe; the soothing, healing voice of Her.

As a mental connection was finally made, the slave felt all doubt and uncertainty wash away.  He shivered in ecstasy as chaos was temporarily replaced by the Unity and Perfection of The Cooperative.  He sensed his Queen's acknowledgement of his presence, and Her calm, silent inquiry.

I have information for you, the slave sent.  A possible threat posed by the Alliance.  I am now uploading data regarding the Klingon's Thalaron Generator...

The slave was snapped out of his blissfull state by the butt of a disruptor smashing against his skull.  He shook his head, trying to clear his senses, and stared up into the leering face of a Klingon warrior.  The warrior grabbed him by the shoulders, and gave him a violent shake. 

"Lazy Tera'ngan scum; always standing around daydreaming!"  The Klingon shoved the slave down the corridor, and gave him a parting kick to the rear.  "Get back to work, K'Tan, or I'll personally throw you out of the nearest airlock!"

As the nanites within him began healing his injured skull, K'Tan grinned.  Soon, She would come, and bring order to this troubled quadrant...



Joint post by Rico and wraith1701

Mirror Universe-

At the rear of the dimly lit bridge of the NegVar, two burnished steel doors slid apart with a harsh, grinding scrape.
  KoraQ stepped through, quickly surveying his assembled crew.  Captain K'Lara glanced back over her shoulder as the General stomped forward to take position beside her chair.  KoraQ placed a heavily callused hand on her shoulder, arresting her rise from the seat, and directed his glare towards the forward viewscreen.  "Magnify view," he rumbled.

On screen, the Tiberius held station in the background as a smaller escort ship hammered away at the leading Borg Cube.  The Cube's shields flared to life as they deflected the escort's phaser barrage, creating a shortlived sphere of coruscating energy around the titanic vessel.  As the Terran escort completed it's strafing run, a vibrant green spear of destructive energy lanced out from Borg cube, and was halted mere meters from the escort's hull by it's own weakening shields. The verdant beam shifted position to follow the escort's flight path, never wavering from the same spot on it's faltering shields.

As KoraQ looked on, the escort's shields flickered, then winked out; the devastating Borg beam immediately punched trough the ship's primary hull, coring the saucer-shaped craft and emerging from the opposite side.  Like a buzz-saw cutting through rotted wood, the beam effortlessly traversed the length of the saucer, opening it up like packet of field rations and spilling metallic debris, clouds of flash-frozen atmosphere, and the tiny, flailing forms of crewmen into the cold, harsh vacuum.  By and by, the beam intersected the thicker engineering section of the Terran escort, and as it ate into the warp core, the image was whited out by the retina searing glare of an anti-matter explosion.

KoraQ blinked rapidly to clear the afterimage of the warp core explosion from his sight.   His vision cleared in time for him to see the sphere of hellish energy dissipate and fade away, leaving no sign of the doomed escort in it's wake.

As the Borg ship resumed it's advance, the Tiberius and another escort craft moved forward, each unleashing a storm of glowing photon torpedoes.

"I've seen enough," KoraQ growled.  "Drop cloak and hail the Tiberius."

Across the debris-strewn gulf, the Tiberius continued its advance on the Borg.  From the center of the command deck, surrounded by his frantically working crewmen, the ship's iron-haired Admiral gazed stoically at the forward viewscreen.  A somewhat nervous Ensign turned to address the Admiral.

"Klingon vessel decloaking Admiral.  They are hailing us."

Amid the slight chaos of the Tiberius' bridge, the eyes of the crewmen flicked forward; the tension was palpable as they watched the remains of their escort vessel spin off the edges of the viewscreen.

"Return fire again!  Let's make those mechanical bastards pay for that."  Admiral Talbot said as he stood close to the OPS station.  He knew the battle was won, but these Borg did not seem to want to retreat.  And the clean up was getting messy he thought to himself as he ran a hand through his short black & gray hair.

"The  NegVar continues to hail us, Admiral."

"Very well, put him on screen Ensign.  But afterwards I want an updated damage report, fleet status, and transporter report on survivors.  Dammit, this should be over by now!"  Talbot said as he made himself sit back down in the command center seat and tried to regain his composure as he watched the screen waver and become filled with the bridge of the Klingon vessel.

Back on the NegVar, KoraQ leaned forward as the view of the battlefield was replaced by an image of the Tiberius' bridge.  A tall, black and gray haired man of regal bearing stared silently at him.  KoraQ noted the arch of the man's brow, and his tapering ears.

A Vulcan? he thought.

Then his eyes locked with the man's, and he recognized a warrior's heart behind the steely gaze.

No; not a weakling Vulcan...  a Romulan.

KoraQ stepped towards the Viewscreen, squaring his shoulders and straightening his spine.

"Greetings, RomuluSngan.  I am KoraQ; Admiral of the mighty Alliance fleet.  As much as I detest your pitiful, so-called Empire, I detest the Borg even more."

KoraQ crossed his arms before him, and regarded the Admiral with a derisive smirk.  "I am therefore willing to offer a temporary truce, and rescue you!  My crew is ready and able to teach you  weaklings how real warriors fight!"

The Admiral of the Terran vessel regarded KoraQ coldly, his eyebrow quirked in indignation.

"Admiral Talbot here, leader of the Imperial Fleet you see surrounding you and the Borg.  You are a little far from home, Admiral.  I'm not in the habit of speaking to those that insult my heritage, or my crew.  Close channel Ensign."  Talbot said in a louder voice than he intended as the bridge crew turned to stare at him.

Aboard the NegVar, KoraQ stared at the blank viewscreen in stunned silence.  From behind him, he heard a stifled snicker.  Arms trembling with anger, he whirled around to face the bridge crew.

"Who thinks this is funny?!" he bellowed.  Several of his crews' eyes flickered towards the warrior manning the science station before returning to their own panels.

With an inarticulate cry of rage, KoraQ leapt to the rear of the bridge, simultaneously drawing his Dak'Tag.  Grasping the warrior by the neck with one hand, KoraQ lifted him from his seat and slammed him against the wall.

"Laugh at this, PetaQ!"

With lightening quickness, KoraQ plunged his dagger into the warrior's belly, then ripped the blade violently upward, tearing open the hapless klingon's abdomen.  The Admiral watched the life leave the man's eyes as his viscera plopped wetly to the deck, then hurled his twitching corpse to the floor.

"Someone clean up this mess!" he yelled, whirling to face the viewscreen.  "Arm disruptors, load all torpedo bays, and take us in!"

After wiping his blade off on his pants leg, KoraQ sheathed the weapon and took the seat next to Captain K'Lara's.  He glanced at her, a wicked grin forming on his face.

"We will help the Terra'ngans destroy the Borg whether they like it or not," he said.

"And once we deal with the Borg, we will destroy the Tiberius as well!"


The swirling colors of transwarp parted and allowed the massive almond shaped organic craft to emerge into normal space. Thousands of Cooperative drones manned their stations as their queen wordlessly moved to the dais in the center of her command chamber. Outside of the living ship, the Collective waged battle against the Terrans and Alliance in a fight to the death. With but a thought, the young queen activated the communications system of the Cooperative and relayed their message to the minds and machines of their enemies just as three formerly cloaked Cooperative ships revealed themselves to the combatants.

"We are the Cooperative. Cease hostility and surrender. Aggression will be met with deadly force. Cooperation will be rewarded with harmony. The worthy shall be welcomed and the flawed shall be allowed to leave this space unharmed." The voice of the Cooperative over the communications systems of the gathered ships and in the minds of their crews. Aria's message reached through the vacuum and even caressed the minds of the long eared, multi-hued race that resided on the planet near the rift.

In a less than subtle show of force, Aria's fleet fired upon the Collective. Brilliant azure bolts of energy erupted from the six Cooperative vessels to emerge from cloaks and transwarp. With unified thoughts, each ship targeted critical Borg systems. Purple tinted arcs of power danced over the hull of the Queen's Flagship as it's own weapons added to the attacks against the Borg vessels. One of her agents was in severe trouble and she needed that agent.

Two hundred of her personal drones had been reconfigured for personal combat and stood at the ready to combat her enemies. Personal shields, cloaking abilities, and enhancements to their physical abilities would serve her children well in the even of personal combat aboard the enemy ships. Cloning chambers created though enhanced Founder technology waited aboard her vessel, ready to replenish her fallen children.

"Disperse tactical drones to each Borg vessel with orders to neutralize the treats." Aria ordered as advanced Cooperative sensors searched the fleet for possible new additions to their harmony. "Dispatch Cooperative vessel 2135 to the habited planet and begin harvest of two percent of the population."

"Yes my Queen," replied Megan, Alpha Seven of Eight. The dark hair of the once human woman highlighted her now snow white skin and more of her Queen's genetics than her own. As an Alpha, she served as one of the Queen's eight chosen elite. Her modifications enhanced not only her body, but her mind as well. She was redesigned to function as an organic computer. A secondary node that processed vast information from the Cooperative and transmitted the Queen's orders to her children. Genetic additions acquired from the Bynar tied her to the other seven Alphas and the heart of each Cooperative ship. "Tactical units are prepared for transport. Scout ship 2135 is moving into planetary orbit."

Aria nodded. Vocal communication between her people were not needed, but they allowed her people a voice. Even as they spoke, the words were already being routed to the proper locations via their interconnected network. "Thank you."

D'Oona, Alpha Four of Eight, served as Aria's primary communication's officer aboard her ship. It was her responsibility to be the Voice of the Cooperative. When the Cooperative generally spoke to those outside, it was D'Oonna's voice they heard. The once vulcan had come to her new people freely after discovering the logic to the purpose of the Cooperative. "My Queen, communications with our enemies are prepared to initiate on your command."

"Very good," Aria said. She then reached her mind out to her hidden children. The shadows that she had planted in the hearts of her enemies' fleets. It is time my children. We now move directly against our foes.

Fertillians, secreted among many enemy vessels involved in the battle modified to appear as the races they mingled with, once again heard the orders of the Cooperative. They were her special project, a canvas that allowed her to create her own specific line of their species. Her fertillians were enhanced to be quite attractive to other humanoid races. Their natural pheromone abilities were integrated and enhanced throughout the Cooperative, blended with Orion pheromones to create something quite dangerous.

Those Fertillians that had been modified for espionage had also been rendered sterile. She could not afford to lose an investment by having them die due to an unexpected pregnancy. Her Fertillian spies were designed to appeal to anyone, but their appearance and natural scents were specifically created to target select individuals.

The Fertillians were her flowers on the worlds of her enemies. It was now time for her foes to see their thorns. It was time for her children to the battle to use the knowledge gained from their relationships to increase the tactical advantage of her people. She even had her favorite among them, the one designated as Spring. To that one, she had given many gifts and favors. Spring had earned a position among the Queen's Elite and the title of Two of Eight. It was her job to use seduction and soothing to acquire the objectives of the Cooperative. If Aria's people had a chief diplomat and spy master, it would be Two of Eight.

Three of Eight, another of her select and former resident of the Delta Quadrant, had been instructed to use the Queen's personal shuttle to breach the rift. Her task was simple. Find out what lays on the other side and should she find the Alpha signal, leave a beacon and the peaceful intentions of the Cooperative. Inside the cloaked shuttle aboard the flagship, the young fair haired girls waited for word from her mistress to begin her mission. While her people normally had a lifespan of seven years, she had been enhanced to live as long as the other members of the Cooperative. With her own natural psionic gifts, Kes was a very suitable choice for the mission.

It was now time for her to greet her enemies with her own voice and complete her own objectives. With another thought, she activated communications to the Terran flagship.

"Emperor Locke, you have something of mine. Several things in point of fact. Surrender them and I might allow your vessels to escape intact." Aria said through the open communications channel. Many of her features still favored her mother's beauty and the additional genetic additions only served to magnify that beauty. It would be obvious to those who knew Sevryll that they shared a genetic connection. Another thought raced though her ship and informed her crew to ready the nanoprobe warheads in addition to their standard armaments. "You have sixty seconds to comply. Failure will force us to scour this system."

"Arm the Omega Device," Aria said to her crew and severed communications with the Emperor. She did not wait for a response. The humans needed to know that there would be no delay and no debate.

It would take far less than sixty seconds for her to locate and get a transporter lock on her targets. She wanted her enemies to think that they had options when the did not. As each bit of information came to the Cooperative, her people analyzed it and created new projections on possible events. It was Aria's hidden network of agents that leaked information of the Cooperative's ability to destroy an entire system using a combination of a omega particle to disrupt subspace and a trillithum warhead to send a star into supernova. Called the Omega Device, it was a weapon of mass destruction that few possessed the ability to escape.

While it was easily in the ability of the Cooperative to create such a weapon, it was something that would defeat the purpose of her people. She did not was to destroy the universe, she wanted to save it. A single test in an uninhabited system provided her enemies with visual proof of the weapon's effectiveness. She did not need to arm her ships with the weapons, all she needed was the fear they caused.


David paced his quarters like a caged lion as the ship rattled beneath his feet. The Queen of the Cooperative had appeared before him on his personal display, demanding that he return what belonged to her... He had faced down the Queen with an arrogant pride that would have made his father proud, "Yours? Are you sure? Well, she does look a lot like you, but... SHE IS VERY MUCH, MINE! And if you're not careful, so will you!"

"You have sixty seconds to comply. Failure will force us to scour this system."

He threw a mug of ale at his viewer as the ship lurched from another Borg Volley. The screen sparked and the Queen vanished. 

The drug that Doctor Peterson administered, almost twelve hours before, had long ago worn off. But the rush of Adrenaline that recently flooded her body, had numbed the symptoms of her troubled pregnancy and she took full advantage of its temporary benefits. Sevryll strode with driven purpose from the brig to David Locke's quarters...At last she would act upon the vengeful fantasies she envisioned, while he slept peacefully at her side.

Her bare feet padded quietly on the cold metal deck plates as she advanced toward his door. The robe she wore when she was taken away by D'Callan, hung loosely about her...her hair fell in messy strands over her heaving shoulders. Her teeth chattered, not from the cold air, but from the rage she willingly allowed to break the surface of her composure. The Emperor had murdered her husband and stolen her freedom...but his ultimate transgression was endangering HER children...

His guards failed to stop her progression as she stepped into the entry. She flicked the brawny men aside like su-leitri and entered the room. The Emperor was dressed in his military uniform, at his side hung a dagger and phaser. He folded his arms over his chest and leveled a devious grin on the slight vulcan, "you made quick work of my guards... I supposed you've taken care of D'Callan for me as well? I was just about to retrieve you from that spineless trash, but it looks as though you've saved me the trouble."

The low light cast ominous shadows over Sevryll's face, and they moved over her skin like a lover's caress as she stepped toward the Emperor. Her eyes were narrowed, her hands were curled into tight fists and her jaw was set causing the tendons in her neck to protrude. He laughed, "You look upset, my love...let me work the tension out of your wouldn't want the stress to affect the children would you?" His hand went to his dagger in preparation as she continued toward him.

Without warning, her expression changed and tears welled in her eyes. She stopped and covered her face in humiliation as silent sobs over took her. Unaffected, the Emperor watched a moment before moving cautiously toward her. After a protracted amount of time, he gauged her strange emotions as genuine and covered her small hands with his own... as if too sooth her. Pulling them gently to his chest, he then wiped the tears from her face. A victorious smile stretched across his lips as she melted against him. Sobbing audibly now, Sevryll held him tightly...he had won...or so he thought. He bent to kiss her and she returned it eagerly. When she was certain that he was completely distracted, she slid her hands from his back and seductively moved them to his shoulders. With one hand she ran her fingers through his hair, with the other she gripped the pressure point where his neck met his shoulder. His firm kiss slackened as his mouth gaped in shock and the slight Vulcan stepped aside as David's hulking form fell like a downed tree. "Ovsotik!" She shouted the Vulcan word for 'idiot', as she wiped his kiss from her mouth in disgust.

Grabbing the back of his black uniform jacket, she dragged him from the room. Her adrenaline was spent, and the queasiness had returned, but she was determined to be rid of the man who had ruined her life. She pulled him into a turbolift and rode it to the next floor where the transporter awaited. As she exited, soldiers jogged past... oblivious to her presence. The battle had intensified and they were focused on survival—not on the lissome Vulcan who pulled the massive Terran with little effort down the corridor. She paused briefly as the nausea threatened to end her mission...but the children stirred within her, encouraging her to trudge on. She slapped a weary hand upon the Emperor's back and hauled him into the transporter room then onto the dais. Locke moaned as she stepped down and approached the transporter panel. From behind the station, Sevryll closed her eyes and focused on Admiral Talbot's distinct mental signature. She located him quickly and made a single request, "I require the coordinates to the Borg King's central alcove." The answer came quickly, and without an inquiry of his own.

The whir of the transporter roused him, and David sat up. An eddy of shimmering particles enveloped him, and as his form was transported to the Borg cube, he heard Sevryll's voice echo through the gulf, "Rom-halan k'diwa." She sarcastically spat the Vulcan words for "farewell beloved" then stumbled out of the transporter room.

Sevryll willed herself into the lift and requested the command deck. The minutes were a blur as she ascended. The bustling activity of the bridge gained her attention as the door to the lift whisked open. There, before the viewscreen, was Admiral Talbot. In a daze, she stepped from the lift and wandered through the absorbed bridge crew, to approach the Romulan commander. "Admiral Talbot," She uttered as he spun around in surprise to see her standing behind him. "The Emperor is aboard the Borg Cube. I put him there... Please...allow him time to suffer before you destroy it..."

Founding co-host of the Anomaly Podcast


Joint Post by Rico, Jen and Just X

"Hail the Cooperative vessel," said Talbot.

"This is Admiral Talbot, commanding the Tiberius and the Imperial Fleet."  Talbot said as he noticed Sevryll straighten at the sight of the younger version of herself on the viewscreen.

"Admiral Talbot, we have heard of you.  Sevryll, Servant of the Cooperative, you have done well," said Aria coolly as she nodded to the Vulcan standing beside him.

The word "servant" rang harshly in Sevryll's ears—she was not Aria's servant nor was she the David Locke's property. The Vulcan had managed to free herself and her children from the Emperor...and now she would liberate them from the Cooperative.

Though physically weak, the former Mistress managed to lift her chin with confidence, "I am not your subject... and I will not be returning to your 'organization'."

The Queen merely raised a brow at the statement, "Did you not realize that we would anticipate such an action and calculate its effect on our harmony? Your personal genetic code is already a part of the Cooperative. Your refusal to join us is irrelevant."

Sevryll regarded the younger woman whose dark features filled the viewer, "and did you not anticipate that the telepathy you granted me would enable me to trace your thoughts? You value family above all else—you would not discard your 'siblings' so quickly. You covet them, but I will not allow you to add them to your growing collection..."

Aria narrowed her eyes, Sevryll now threatened something that did not belong to her. She swiftly considered the probabilities of her servant's actions and spoke with carefully chosen words, "The telepathic bond you speak of has also revealed your motivations to me. I know that Justice was done ... Empress. We will grant you this boon as payment for services rendered. However, you would be wise not mistake our kindness for weakness. We are also willing to grant you and your allies safe passage in exchange for the genetic material of specific individuals that interest us... in addition to two captives held on your ship." Aria's people rarely negotiated, but it served her great agenda to do so. The compromise would plant the seeds for her future victory, and would cost fewer resources.

"Safe passage?  As you can see, the Tiberius and the Fleet have been making easy work of the Borg in this area."  Talbot said, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck raise.  He had an immediate dislike and clear distrust for this person who looked so much like Sevryll.

Aria tilted her head slightly and transmitted a list of names within the fleet, of individuals who had drawn her attention. "We are not our cousins, Admiral. We do not simply adapt, we anticipate and we have already seen our victory. We hold superior firepower and tactical advantage. Failure to comply to our demands will result in our taking what we require by..."

Talbot interrupted Aria's threat with a signal to cut the transmission. Sevryll glanced up at the much taller Romulan, "Thank you..." she said with the slightly irritated tone. "She is driven to realize her goal, you should heed her warning....  May I study this list as well, Admiral? "

"Certainly.  And you will also fill me in on what you have been up to, Sevryll."  Talbot said, trying to leave the emotions he was feeling out of his tone.
Founding co-host of the Anomaly Podcast