X-NEWS: spcvxb rec.arts.startrek: 4940 Relay-Version: VMS News - V5.9C 19/12/89 VAX/VMS V5.3; site spcvxb.spc.edu Path: spcvxb!njin!rutgers!news-server.csri.toronto.edu!dgp.toronto.edu!ckchee Newsgroups: rec.arts.startrek Subject: Repost: Mirror Mirror (part 1) Message-ID: <1990Apr27.213541.15390@jarvis.csri.toronto.edu> From: ckchee@dgp.toronto.edu (Chuan Chee) Date: 28 Apr 90 01:35:41 GMT Distribution: na Organization: CSRI, University of Toronto Lines: 254 From jarvis.csri.toronto.edu!mailrus!cs.utexas.edu!rice!uw-beaver!milton!blake!avon Thu Oct 26 19:35:34 GMT 1989 Article 31153 of rec.arts.startrek: Path: jarvis.csri.toronto.edu!mailrus!cs.utexas.edu!rice!uw-beaver!milton!blake!avon >From: avon@blake.acs.washington.edu (Michael Montoure) Newsgroups: rec.arts.startrek Subject: "Mirror, Mirror: The Next Generation" (LONG) Keywords: Story, Imperial Message-ID: <4217@blake.acs.washington.edu> Date: 26 Oct 89 19:35:34 GMT Organization: Starbase Gallifrey Lines: 242 All these postings about the NexTrek "Mirror Mirror" Universe got me thinking . . . and thinking got me to writing . . . . Let me know what you think. MIRROR, MIRROR: THE NEXT GENERATION "Errand of Malice" by Michael Montoure (Copyright notice -- It's useless to say, "Please don't reproduce this!" because I know you will anyway. :-) All I ask is, if you reproduce it, please copy it INTACT, and don't edit anything -- and please, so I can keep track of where this is going, say where you got it. Thanks. --MJM) Captain Picard leaned forward in his high-backed command chair, a faint smile playing around his taut lips. Next to him, Commander Riker drummed his fingers impatiently on his display console. "Entering standard orbit, Captain," the ensign at the helm reported. "Good. Lieutenant Yar, lock phasers on target and open hailing frequencies." "Aye, sir." The screen hummed and the image of the Ferengi ship faded, replaced by a very nervous Ferengi captain. Picard stood up and glared at the screen. "Ferengi vessel, you are in orbit around a planet of the Terran Empire. Please identify yourselves." The Daimon scowled. "Enterprise, this planet is not mentioned in the Border Dispute Treaty of -- " "Ferengi vessel, identify." The alien swallowed. "This is the Ferengi trader vessel Glaktai. We are at this planet on a peaceful mission of trade and commerce; we wish no harm to its populace." "You are infringing on an Imperial economic monopoly, Daimon." The Ferengi's eyes widened. "Please, Captain, we only wish to trade with the -- " "Kill the signal." The Ferengi captain was abruptly placed by an image of the ship. "Shall I fire phasers, Captain?" Yar asked. Picard nodded. "Make it so." Twin blue shafts of phaser energy stabbed from beneath them and covered the Ferengi vessel in deadly blue fire. Tasha smiled to herself as the ship exploded. Picard turned to her. "Lieutenant, assemble a Tactical Away Team. I want your officers to fan out and track down any remaining Ferengi traders on the planet." "Understood." Tasha stood at attention. "Do you want them captured for questioning?" Picard considered. "No -- this looks like a standard Ferengi free trade operation, nothing remarkable. Terminate with prejudice, Lieutenant." "Understood, sir." "Oh, and Lieutenant . . . if just ONE Ferengi escapes alive, you will be spending some time in the Agonizer Booth. Isn't that so, Mr. Data?" The golden-hued Internal Security Officer turned and smiled faintly. "Quite true, Captain. I would see to it myself." "Good." Picard turned to Riker. "Number One, would you care to join me on the Holodeck?" * * * * * * * The stench of rotting leaves hung in the air as a simulated sun beat down on them. With pike and short sword in hand, Picard moved quietly through the underbrush, his first officer close behind. "Was there something you wanted to talk to me about, sir?" Riker asked. "As a matter of fact, there is, Commander," Picard said, lashing out with the short sword at a passing small animal. He missed and cursed. "You were recently offered the chance to be the captain of the U.S.S. Noonian Singh. But you turned it down." "True, sir, I did." "Might I ask why?" Riker took a deep breath, holding the crossbow close to his body. He took careful aim and speared the animal Picard had missed. "The Singh didn't interest me, sir. It's the Enterprise I want." Picard scowled. "You realize, of course, that you'd have to kill me to get it." "I'm aware of that." "That wouldn't be that easy. Many have tried." "And failed, sir. I know." "What makes you think you could do any better?" Riker smiled. "Perserverance, sir. The ability to bide my time until the right moment." "There will never be a right moment, Riker." Suddenly, faster than Riker could follow his movements, Picard turned and swung a blow at Riker's chest, knocking him to the ground. Picard stabbed the short sword at him, the point just breaking the skin of Riker's chest. "Computer, end simulation," Picard said calmly. The jungle around them faded, and there was only a dark room, and Riker lying bleeding at Picard's feet. "Remember that," Picard said. "There will never be a right moment." * * * * * * * "You let him do this to you?" Pulaski said, frowning as she placed the bandage carefully on Riker's chest. "I didn't exactly LET him," Riker said, smiling humorlessly. "I don't understand how the old man can move so damn fast." "He has to," Pulaski said simply. She put the final touches on the bandage as it blended with Riker's skin. "There. All done." She stood up straight and looked at him curiously. "Now, then, why did you bother to come down here for that little scratch?" "I needed an excuse to see you," Riker said. "It's about Geordi." Kate laughed. "I'm afraid there's nothing I can do to help him. Having a Pakled spaceship explode around you isn't something you can get better from." "That's not what I'm talking about," Riker snapped. "Geordi was useful to me, with that VISOR of his. I couldn't afford to lose him." "You should have thought of that before you opened fire on the Pakleds." "Picard's idea, not mine. Damn him. He probably realized that Geordi was on my side." "What do you want me to about it? I can't raise the dead." "No, but do you still have one of Geordi's spare VISORs?" "Certainly . . . " "And you know how to attach one?" "Sure, but not to a sighted person." "I don't mean using it on a sighted person." Riker grinned. "I think it's time Engineer O'Brien suffered a little . . . accident . . . . " * * * * * * * Picard stared across the briefing room table at the Klingon. "Let me see if I understand you. You want to change your hostage status?" Worf nodded. "Correct." Picard stroked his chin. "You realize, of course, that having hostages on board all vessels is an important part of the Klingon/Federation Treaty." "Treaties should not stand in the way of personal goals." "True . . . true. You wish to defect." "I wish to be a member of your crew." "Why? Your race is not a race of fighters." Worf nodded sadly. "Klingons are bred to peace." "Then why would you wish to join the crew of a battleship?" Data interjected. "We fight when we must. We do not waste blood. But I would rather serve beside you than live out my days as a . . . " his face looked as though he had bit into something distasteful. "As a pet." Picard exchanged glances with Data. "Thank you, Worf, we will consider your offer. Guards, take him back to his room." Two men with portable Agonizers accompanied Worf from the room. "Well, Commander?" Picard asked. Data leaned forward interestedly. "He would seem to be sincere in his offer, Captain. And he could be most useful to us. His people do have a better understanding of defensive tactics than we do." "True. You think he was telling the truth about his reasons?" Data cocked his head to one side and considered. "I was not programmed to evaluate truthfulness, Captain. As my name suggests, I was built to store data on security matters, and to be an impartial observer for the Empire." "But you have exceeded that function before, Commander." "True -- yet emotions are still beyond me." He paused meaningfully. "But they are not beyond Commander Riker's new -- acquisition, sir." "His Betazoid prisoner? Hmmmm." Picard drummed his fingers along the tabletop. "I'd understood she'd been conditioned against using her empathic abilities." "No, sir, I only conditioned her against using them on Imperial officers. I decided that she could be useful to us." "Hmmmm. Very well. Have her interrogate Worf for us." "Certainly, sir." "Oh, and Data . . . ? You're doing a fine job, Commander." "Thank you, sir." Even if you are a soulless, tin-plated machine, Picard thought, and even if I don't trust you at all. END PART ONE ==============================================>> MICHAEL J. MONTOURE <<======== "Every silver lining has its | Editor-in-chief, Starbase Gallifrey grey cloud." -- Avon, Blake's 7 | 24026 21st Ave. So, Seattle, WA 98198 ==========================================>> avon@blake.u.washington.edu <<====