Episode 29 - Broken Mirror
Stardate: 41424.7
Earth Standard Date: June 4, 2364.
Location: ISS Stargazer, Mirror Universe.
Ro let out a humorless laugh. "And here I thought my life couldn't get any more complicated after Gallitep." She began to pace the cargo bay. Every few steps, she'd glance at Tyson, as if expecting him to reveal this was all an elaborate joke. "So, what's the plan?" she asked finally, coming to a stop in front of him. "We can't just sit here waiting for someone on the Enterprise to find us."
"We need to gather information. Figure out where exactly we are in this timeline, and who's in charge of this ship. Since the Stargazer was Picard's first command, we can assume he's the Captain. Hopefully, we don't have to worry about what our counterparts might be like in this universe. Politics are totally different here. Since you're Bajoran, we likely won't run into your counterpart, and since I'm not native to this time, I shouldn't have one. We'll need to avoid suspicion as much as possible."
She squared her shoulders. "Alright, Lieutenant. I'm with you. Let's figure out how to get out of this mess."
Tyson raised an eyebrow. "You're taking this remarkably well."
Ro shrugged. "After everything I've been through, it takes a lot to shock me. Besides, what choice do we have?"
She glanced around the dimly lit cargo bay, taking in the rusty walls and flickering lights. "You know, when I was assigned to the Enterprise, I thought it might be a chance for a fresh start. A way to put my past behind me." She shook her head, chuckling softly. "I never imagined it would lead to... this." Tyson opened his mouth to respond, but Ro held up a hand, cutting him off. "Don't apologize," she said, her voice tinged with dark humor, "First day on the Enterprise sure wasn't boring. By the end of this, I might want to go back to prison."
"And on top of it all. We're unarmed," she noted grimly.
Tyson's lips quirked up. "Not exactly," he replied, his voice low. "I always carry weapons with me."
"That's against shipboard protocols," she pointed out.
Tyson shrugged, unbothered by her reaction. "It probably shouldn't be." He paused, considering how much to reveal.
"My uniform is actually armor. It's made of nanobots. It has many functions, but its protection is top-notch. Personal shielding and energy-weapon resistant plating."
Ro's eyes widened. "I didn't know armor of that quality was available within Starfleet."
"It's a personal design," Tyson explained, "I want you to wear it for now. Will you accept it?"
Ro squinted at him. "What about you?" she asked.
"While it's not listed on my Starfleet documents, I'm an expert in individual combat. If anyone here can challenge me, it'll solve one of my problems, curing my Blood Fever."
After a moment of consideration, Ro nodded her agreement. Tyson reached out, placing his hand on Ro's arm. The Grey Goo Suit began streaming off him, flowing like quicksilver onto her. Within seconds, Tyson was left standing in just a pair of simple underwear. Ro glanced down at herself, marveling at the seamless integration of the suit.
When she looked back up at Tyson, her eyes widened in surprise. "You're going to walk around like that?" she asked, gesturing at his near-naked form.
"Nah, I'll have to dig something up." Tyson began rifling through the boxes scattered around the cargo bay. After a few moments, he pulled out a discarded uniform. He struggled to put on the uniform, which was clearly too small for his muscular frame. He had to rip off the sleeves because his arms were too large, and he also tore through the material of the pants to make them fit. When he was done, the Starfleet uniform looked more like a cyclist's outfit from his past than anything he had seen worn on the Enterprise.
"Well, that's certainly... distinctive."
Tyson glanced down at himself, then back at Ro with a wry smile. "It'll have to do for now. At least I'm not naked anymore."
"So, what's our next move?"
Tyson's face mirrored her seriousness. "The more information we have, the better our chances of survival."
"How do we explain your... outfit if we encounter anyone?"
"We'll see how far out of code I am. If no one mentions it, we'll ignore it. Otherwise, we'll say I was injured, and the medical replicators malfunctioned. It was either this or nothing."
Tyson accessed the terminal again. His eyes scanned the information that scrolled across the screen. Vicky was far faster at accessing the information, even without her, Tyson was still an Augment. After a few moments, he stepped back, gesturing for Ro to read it.
"Alright, Ensign, here's what we're dealing with. This ship is the ISS Stargazer. From what I can gather, we're in a universe where the Federation doesn't exist. Instead, we've got something called the Terran Empire. This is a Constellation-class vessel," Tyson continued, pointing to a schematic on the screen. "It's a generation or two behind the Enterprise-D. I've pulled up as much general information as I could find. Take a look, and learn what you can."
Ro focused on the information before her, occasionally muttering as she came across particularly surprising or concerning details.
Tyson moved away, giving her space to concentrate. He closed his eyes for a moment and accessed his HUD. The familiar interface appeared in his mind's eye. He began browsing his options, noting with interest that a new Origin selection was available.
Origin Options: Warlord, Manipulator, Rebel, Displaced
Warlord
You recognize that power is both the means and the goal of existence and that those who will not lead are doomed to follow. You are determined to be the former, exploiting fear and violence to pursue your goals and annihilate those who stand against you, be they 'friends' or foes. You might be a counterpart to Jonathan Archer, Philippa Georgiou, or Worf, Son of Mogh. Ruthless, cruel, and ambitious, thriving in combat and favoring the direct approach.
Manipulator
Weapons, technologies, resources. Ultimately, the one thing that determines success is control over people. You are a schemer, a liar, a trickster who does their best work by hiding their true goals; be it by working from the shadows or presenting a face to the rest of the universe that is a mask utterly unlike your true self. You thrive on chaos and dissent, pulling the strings to ensure you always come out ahead, never revealing yourself until it's time for a single, decisive strike. You might be a counterpart to Hoshi Sato, Gabriel Lorca, or Kira Nerys. Subtle, unpredictable, and seductive, treating everyone as pawns to be used or discarded.
Rebel
You are one of those fighting against the oppression and cruelty of the major factions. It's a hard life, where even the smallest mistake can mean death, but you keep going nonetheless, chipping away at the chains that grind so many into dust, one ambush and act of sabotage at a time. Your greatest allies are the downtrodden, the abandoned, and former slaves wishing for a better tomorrow... You might be a counterpart to T'Pol, Voq, Son of None, or Miles 'Smiley' O'Brien. Cunning and driven, always seeking that one advantage that could turn things around.
Displaced
Rather than a native to this universe, you are instead someone at home in the alternate reality where humanity founded the United Federation of Planets. Most likely, you're a member of Starfleet, brought here by some bizarre event and forced to survive in a reality that seems like a dark mockery of all you hold dear. Your counterparts are individuals such as James Tiberius Kirk, Kira Nerys, and Benjamin Sisko.
Reading the new Origin descriptions left him reflecting on his discussion with Q after leaving the Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic galaxy. The enigmatic being had made an observation.
Tyson's actions aligned with the Origins he chose.
He wasn't sure if this was a conscious decision, but it still gave him pause. If it was even slightly possible that his Origin selections affected his decision-making, he needed to select an Origin that fit his goals and the person he aspired to be. He couldn't just choose the Origin that offered the best discounts.
That ruled out Manipulator. He had deliberately avoided the Pheromone Perk previously, wary of how they might allow him to control those around him. All of the Manipulator's abilities centered on exploiting and deceiving others.
Displaced most closely described his current situation; abruptly torn from the prime Star Trek reality and flung into the twisted mirror universe. The free Perk offered some resistance to outside influences. While he had already picked up a pair of protective Perks before facing D'Lavina, this one might afford some protection against the manipulation.
The Rebel Origin held a certain appeal despite having lackluster Perks. From what he remembered, the mirror universe was a mess, with the Terran Empire losing ground to the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance. Though the Terrans' tyranny was reprehensible, the Klingons and Cardassians weren't any better. Perhaps, as a rebel leader, he could shift the balance of power and inspire real change.
Finally, there was Warlord. The most straightforward Origin, and it synergized well with Tyson's formidable combat skills. Yet he hesitated to select it. The free Perk offered redundant combat bonuses to what he already possessed. And did he truly want abilities tailored for casually dominating others through force? While effective here or in the Knights of the Old Republic universe, in the prime Star Trek reality, it would likely prove more detrimental than beneficial.
Tyson selected Displaced.
Displaced had the best free Perks. And Tyson was a sucker for free stuff. But beyond that, it was also the Origin that embodied the Federation's ideals. Tyson wasn't a Federation zealot, but this universe could use more of the Federation. If things here were as he expected, he wasn't left with many options. Fighting Klingons and Cardassians was the same as helping Terrans. And vice versa, any moves he made against Terrans were helping the Klingons and Cardassians. If he wanted to help anyone, he would need to try to push Terrans toward being better. A tall order for one man, but he thought this Origin was the best to embody that goal.
[Free (Discounted)] We Are Still Starfleet (Perk)
This reality can wear on one's principles, and keeping your integrity when forced into taking desperate measures while surrounded by wanton cruelty can be difficult. But you are Starfleet, and you do not give up just because things become challenging. Your moral and ethical standards are ironclad, refusing to budge no matter what horrors you see, or are forced to commit. Should you change, that change will come from within and not because someone or something forces you into a different mold.
[Free (Discounted)] Evidence Of Integrity (Item)
Each universe possesses a quantum resonance signal, and though it's not commonly scanned, it can be used to identify interdimensional travelers. You possess proof of your identity, typically an insignia or comm badge of some kind, that you can use to prove beyond a doubt that you're not from around here. Surprisingly, people will at least somewhat take your word for it even if they don't have a suitable scanner nearby, though they'll keep their options open until they've got proof. In future worlds, this item will likewise serve as proof of your identity, replacing passports or other such forms of ID as appropriate, even if you don't strictly have a background or history.
[Free] Dressed For Success And Murder (Item)
It might be heartless, it might be evil, it might be psychotic at times, but damn if the men and women of the Mirror Universe don't make their wicked ways look good. And you can look the part, too; this purchase grants you a massive wardrobe, sufficient for yourself and any crews you might want or need to outfit similarly. It includes all the various uniforms and outfits seen by the main factions in this universe. Whether it's bare midriffs and miniskirts to show the confidence and allure of female officers or some tight-fitting black leather and Nazi-esque motifs to show off your male subordinates' physiques, each of these outfits is guaranteed to be intimidating, appealing, and sexy. Expect lots of leather, gold accessories, and enough holsters for guns and melee weapons to store a battalion's worth of Phase Pistols.
[50 CP] Fit For Duty: Command Division - Expert Ship Tactics and Combat, Expert Ship Command (Perk)
Before even the greenest crew members set foot on a starship in this universe, they've usually undergone years of training and education. From particle physics to xeno-anthropology and combat tactics to medicine, everyone with any authority in space had better know what they were doing. This purchase grants you a basic level of training in three fields of expertise, at least two of which must be in a single area (Command, Operations, or Science Division). You may gain additional skills and experience for 50 CP for three additional skills. These extra skills can be put into ones you already possess, improving your overall competence level. A single purchase grants you the basic skills expected from someone fresh out of the Imperial Academy (or an equivalent center of learning), two tiers of skill give you the equivalent of several years of in-the-field experience, and a third level makes you an expert comparable to Charles' Trip' Tucker (in engineering), Gabriel Lorca (in ship tactics and combat) or Spock (in physics or physical sciences).
Ship Command: Governs leadership skills, commanding other crewmembers, and the skills needed to keep a ship operating effectively.
Ship Tactics And Combat: Covers everything related to space combat, including ship weaponry, predicting enemy movements or attacks, etc.
He made an additional purchase of Fit For Duty to stack on top of his chosen skills. This allowed him to reach the highest level of expertise under the Command Division in both Ship Tactics and Combat and Ship Command. He did this because when the Starfleet panel evaluated him, Admiral Jameson cited a lack of expertise in those areas as one of the primary factors he wasn't promoted beyond Lieutenant. If he fixed that weakness, combined with his Speedy Promotions Perk, he might reach higher ranks faster.
He needed to select Perks that would help him survive, and maybe improve this place. And there were a few that would be useful not just here and now but beyond the Mirror Universe.
[200 CP (Discounted)] Change The Present (Perk)
One man cannot summon the future, but one man can change the present. Only a handful of Starfleet members have seen this reality, but the impact they've had on its people and events cannot be understated. You will likewise find yourself at the heart of many great things, your actions having far greater consequences than before. Making this galaxy a better place is a noble goal indeed. The present can only carry one's actions so far, and this Perk does not make you immune to unforeseen consequences. For example, though the Federation's Captain Kirk inspired the Terran Empire's Commander Spock to push the empire along a more compassionate, kind-hearted path, so too would those changes eventually lead to their subjugation at the hands of the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance.
Character Points: 400
Tyson reached into an empty box to find it full of uniform pieces, thanks to his Dressed For Success And Murder Item. His outfit was sufficient, but he needed a holster for his weapons. He grabbed a belt that could house his Lightsaber and Laser Blade, and he still had the phaser from the Abrams Trek timeline.
"Lieutenant, this is... disturbing."
"What have you found, Ensign?"
"The Terran Empire... It's not just different from the Federation, it's its polar opposite. They're expansionist, xenophobic, and ruthlessly violent. Advancement through assassination seems to be the norm."
Tyson nodded, unsurprised. "That tracks. This place seems to be a dark reflection of our reality."
"That's putting it mildly," Ro muttered. She gestured to a section of the display. "Look at this. They have detailed protocols for subjugating alien races. And the punishments for insubordination..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "The ship's command structure is similar to what we're used to, but the roles seem more... militaristic. The Captain isn't just in command; they're more like a warlord."
As they continued to discuss the information they'd gathered, he was acutely aware of their challenges: navigating a hostile environment, avoiding detection, and somehow finding a way back to their universe. All while dealing with his Blood Fever.
"We need to find a way to blend in. Your... outfit is going to fit in, but mine might draw attention."
"The Grey Goo Suit can replicate whatever appearance you want."
Ro glanced down at her current uniform, then back at the information displayed on the screen. "Alright, if I'm going to blend in, I need to look the part," she said aloud. "I need my uniform to match the style of this universe."
Responding to her words, the Grey Goo Suit shifted and changed. Ro watched in fascination as the material of her uniform seemed to liquify, flowing and reshaping itself around her body.
"I need something intimidating," Ro continued, "Black, form-fitting, with some gold accents. Maybe some leather elements?" The suit responded immediately. The color darkened to a deep, glossy black. The fabric tightened, hugging her curves in a way that was both alluring and menacing. Ro rotated her shoulders, feeling the new fit. "Now for some final touches. Give me a belt with a holster for a phaser. And maybe some boots with a bit of a heel. Nothing too impractical, but something that says I mean business."
The suit obliged. A wide belt materialized around her waist, complete with a holster on her right hip. Her boots transformed, gaining a slight heel that added an extra inch to her height.
Ro looked down at herself, turning this way and that to examine the changes. "This is... different. But it certainly fits what we saw in those files."
Tyson handed her his phaser. "Don't try to hide it. You had fun with that. And good choice, you'll blend in perfectly. Just remember, it's not just about looking the part. We'll need to act it, too."
Ro waved off his comments, but reached up to touch her nose ridges. "What about these? They're a dead giveaway that I'm Bajoran."
"The suit can handle that, too," Tyson assured her. "It'll smooth them out."
Slowly, the distinctive ridges on her nose flattened and smoothed out until her face was indistinguishable from a human's. She reached up to touch her now-smooth nose bridge. "This is... unsettling," she murmured. "But necessary, I suppose."
Despite their bizarre situation, Ro was proving to be level-headed. "I appreciate your adaptability in this situation. Many officers would struggle to cope with all this."
"I've learned to roll with the punches. Although I have to admit, this is pushing my limits."
Tyson chuckled softly. "I can imagine. But your mindset is exactly what we need right now. It's all necessary if we want to survive long enough to find a way home." He moved towards the cargo bay door. "Are you ready?"
Ro squared her shoulders, her hand instinctively moving to rest on the phaser holster at her hip. "As ready as I'll ever be, Lieutenant. Let's see what this version of our world has in store for us."
— Star Jumper —
As they approached Engineering, the contrast to the Enterprise became even more apparent. The doors hissed open, revealing a scene of chaos. Exposed conduits snaked across the ceiling, and tangled wires spilled from open panels, sparking occasionally. The acrid smell of ozone and burnt circuitry assaulted their nostrils.
"This is... different," she murmured.
Tyson swept the room, cataloging the differences and disarray. His eyes landed on a familiar figure. Barclay. Or at least this universe's version of him. He had only encountered the man a few times on the Enterprise-D, but knew the character well from the few episodes focused on him in The Next Generation and Voyager.
Stepping forward, he intended to approach him when a sudden sensation stopped him cold. It was like a tickle in his mind, a presence that hadn't been there before. His empathic senses, usually a comforting background hum, now screamed a warning.
Someone with psionic abilities was approaching.
And Tyson got the distinct impression that they could sense him, too. He had Perks that offered defenses against being influenced, no protection that would stop a telepath from reading his thoughts.
As he felt the telepath's presence grow stronger and closer, he turned to Ro, his voice urgent and low. "There's a telepath coming. We can't have you discovered. The suit has a built-in stealth function. Speak with the AI inside, Vicky, she'll explain everything. Lay low, rendezvous later."
Ro's eyes widened, but she nodded.
"Vicky, activate the Scaling Cloak," Tyson commanded.
Ro vanished from sight. Tyson exhaled, relieved she would be safe. The Scaling Cloak prevented any detection by sensors and scans, including telepathic sensing. Revealing the Gray Goo Suit's true capabilities to Ro was a gamble, but if it became an issue, it was a problem for his future self.
The doors to Engineering slid open with a hiss, and a woman strode in, immediately commanding attention. She had long, black, wavy hair and wore a figure-hugging dress. Her eyes were black. It was Deanna Troi, but not as Tyson had ever seen her before. Gone was the gentle counselor, replaced by a woman who radiated authority and sensuality in equal measure. Seeing this, Troi, he wasn't sure if he wanted her attention or not. Her dark eyes scanned the room, settling on him, leaving no question as to whether she sensed him.
But she turned away to approach Barclay. Tyson wasn't sure if he was off the hook, but couldn't help eavesdrop on their conversation.
"Inquisitor," Barclay stammered with barely concealed fear. "What brings you to engineering?"
"The Captain has requested a meeting, Mr. Barclay. Your presence is required."
Barclay swallowed hard. "Of course, Inquisitor. I'll report immediately."
As Barclay scurried away, Troi turned back to Tyson. She pointed directly at him. "You, come with me. The Captain will be most interested in meeting you."
Tyson weighed his options in a split second. Meeting the Captain could be a chance to establish himself in this new reality, but it also carried the risk of exposure. In the end, he knew he had no real choice. Refusal would only arouse suspicion.
He fell into step behind Troi, leaving engineering behind. As they walked, Tyson couldn't help but notice the differences in this version of Troi. Her every movement exuded confidence. Crew members scurried out of her path. He tried to piece together the hierarchy of this reality. Barclay had referred to Troi as an Inquisitor, which certainly wasn't a position on the other Enterprise where the Counselor held the position of Lieutenant Commander.
They reached a turbolift, and as the doors closed, she turned to face him, uncomfortably close. Her exotic and intoxicating scent filled the small space.
"I don't believe we've been properly introduced. I am Inquisitor Troi. And you are?"
"Lieutenant Tyson."
"You're not from around here, are you?"
"What makes you say that, Inquisitor?"
Troi's laugh was musical but with an edge. "Oh, I know you're new, Lieutenant. I make it my business to know everything that happens on this ship. What I don't know is why I can't read you as easily as the others."
Tyson had assumed she'd notice the difference, but knowing that he was harder to read than others was reassuring. Maybe it was the Force, or maybe because he was an Augment, it made it more difficult. "I'm not sure what you mean, Inquisitor."
Troi's smile widened, showing teeth. "Oh, I think you do. But don't worry. We'll get to the bottom of it soon enough. If you don't want to tell me, then the Captain has ways of making people open up."
Tyson thought of ways to turn this situation to his advantage, to establish himself as an asset. He recognized her attempts at manipulation, the subtle probing of his defenses. But he also saw an opportunity.
"I'm half-Betazoid," Tyson said, offering a partial truth. "I don't have full telepathy, but have a measure of empathy."
Troi's smile widened. "Now we're getting somewhere," she leaned in closer. "What do you think the captain would do if he found out?"
Tyson shrugged, maintaining his composure. "I don't know. Maybe make me his Inquisitor?"
He'd thrown out that he knew she wasn't human, but he wasn't sure if that was common knowledge on the ship. From what he knew of Terrans, they tended to have an air of superiority. Who knew how they treated human-like races like the Betazed? "Why don't you tell me? You know him better."
Troi's laugh was low and throaty. "He'll do whatever I recommend," she explained, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his exposed muscular arms.
If she was telling the truth, this Troi wielded considerable influence. He needed to turn her interest into an advantage. "And what would you recommend, Inquisitor?"
Troi's eyes sparkled with amusement. "That depends on you, Lieutenant. How useful can you make yourself?" She pressed her body against his. Tyson could feel the softness of her chest brushing against his abs. But he didn't overlook that her actions didn't match the hardness in her eyes. "What do you think I should tell him?"
Tyson looked down at her, acutely aware of their proximity. He knew this was as much a test as it was manipulation. But he didn't fear Troi. If she thought she could use him, he could use her. If she wanted to use him in a scheme, he'd piggyback on her efforts to raise himself.
"Tell him I'm dangerous."
Troi didn't back away. "Dangerous?" she repeated. "And why would I tell him that?"
"Because it's the truth. And, because dangerous can be useful in the right hands."
Troi's smile turned predatory. She grabbed his hands and guided them to the small of her back. "And whose hands would those be, Lieutenant? Mine? The Captain's? Or your own?"
Tyson hadn't abused his position as an Augment much, at least not outwardly. But there were certain advantages. Augments were naturally attractive, and with all his physical Perks, he was a specimen of human perfection. There were Perks available that would have allowed him to take greater advantage of his appearance, but he hadn't purchased any. However, he decided to turn on the charm a little and see how it went. Worst case, he was far stronger than anyone here and could fight through whatever came his way.
Maybe it was his Blood Fever talking, but it seemed like a good decision.
His hand shot out, and he grabbed both Troi's wrists and pinned them above her head against the turbolift wall. She resisted, but immediately realized that he far outclassed her strength. Tyson did his best to radiate that he was aggressive but didn't mean harm through his thoughts and Empathy.
The small space of the turbolift suddenly felt even more confined. Tyson could feel the rapid beat of her heart, the warmth of her body pressed against his.
"Well, well," Troi purred. "You are full of surprises, aren't you, Lieutenant?"
Tyson maintained his grip on her wrists, firm but not painful. He could feel the delicate bones beneath his fingers, a reminder of how easily he could overpower her if he chose. But that wasn't his goal. This was a dance of power, of control, and he intended to lead. He could sense she was covering her fear with bravado, but the excitement in her eyes was genuine.
"I'm just getting started."
Troi made no move to free herself from his grasp. Instead, she arched her body slightly, pressing herself even closer to him. "Is that so?" she challenged, her breath warm against his cheek. "And what else are you hiding, I wonder?"
Tyson could feel the heat radiating from her and smell the intoxicating scent of her perfume mixed with something uniquely hers. It was heady, drawing him in, but he kept his focus. This was a dangerous game, and he couldn't ignore the Blood Fever singing in his veins. He couldn't afford to lose himself in it.
"That's for you to find out. If you're interested."
Troi's laugh was low and throaty. "Oh, I'm very interested, Lieutenant. You've certainly caught my attention."
The turbolift continued its ascent. Tyson was acutely aware of every second passing, of the fact that they would soon reach their destination. He needed to make a move, to solidify his position before they faced the Captain.
"And what will you do with that interest, Inquisitor?" Tyson asked, his eyes never leaving hers. "Will you use it to your advantage? Or will you lie back and enjoy it?"
"Why can't I do both?" she countered. "After all, the most dangerous games are often the most rewarding." She was enjoying this, he realized, but she was also assessing him, trying to figure out how to use him to her advantage. "And what about you, Lieutenant? What do you hope to gain from this?"
Tyson leaned in closer, his lips nearly brushing her ear. He could feel her shiver slightly at his proximity. "Maybe I just want to see how far I can push," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin.
The turbolift began to slow, signaling their imminent arrival at the bridge. Tyson knew he had only moments left to make his final move, to set the stage for whatever was to come next.
He relaxed his hold on her hands, guiding them around his broad back. They didn't reach further than his lats. He leaned in close and whispered, "Do you want me in your hands, Inquisitor?"
Troi's laugh was rich and throaty. "My, my," she purred, "You are full of surprises, aren't you?"
Before Tyson could respond, the turbolift doors hissed open, revealing the bridge of the ISS Stargazer. She smoothly slid around him to exit the turbolift, but her eyes never left Tyson's face. "Well, Lieutenant," she said, "let's see if you can continue to surprise me."
The bridge was far different from the Enterprise's, not just in layout but also in the atmosphere. Gone was the sense of exploration and discovery. In its place was a palpable aura of suspicion. Tyson could almost taste the fear and aggression that permeated the space. Crew members moved about with quick, furtive glances, their postures tense and ready for action at a moment's notice. At the center of it all, seated in the Captain's chair like a king on his throne, was Jean-Luc Picard, or rather, his mirror universe counterpart. The familiar features were there. Although he was still bald, an added goatee and sleeveless uniform, which showcased his muscular arms, made him appear more menacing. His posture exuded authority and danger in equal measure.
Barclay had arrived before them and was already standing at attention before the Captain. Picard's eyes flickered from the nervous engineer to Tyson and Troi.
"Inquisitor, I see you've brought us a... guest."
"Yes, Captain. I believe you'll find him most interesting."
Picard's gaze raked over Tyson, assessing him with the cold efficiency of a butcher eyeing a prime cut of meat. "We shall see. Join me in my ready room. Both of you." Troi followed, with Tyson in tow, feeling the weight of dozens of eyes on his back as they crossed the bridge.
The ready room of the ISS Stargazer was the nicest spot on the ship Tyson had seen yet. It was at odds with the general disrepair that permeated the rest of the vessel. Rich, dark wood paneling covered the walls, interspersed with display cases holding what looked like trophies from conquests. A large desk dominated the room, its surface clear except for a few PADDs and what appeared to be a Klingon dagger.
Captain Jean-Luc Picard swept over the assembled group, finally settling on Barclay, making the engineer visibly flinch. "Barclay," he barked jovially, "how are things in engineering?"
"Good," Barclay replied, his voice wavering slightly, "but there are the plasma leaks and—"
Picard cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Yes, yes. I'm sure you can get them sorted out. But I have another assignment for you, assuming you can step outside engineering for a moment."
Barclay's eyes widened in surprise. "Assignment, sir?"
"Assist Lieutenant Yar in overseeing the escort of the Vulcan slave ships. With our first officer still unaccounted for, she may require an extra hand."
"Uhm, yes, sir," Barclay stammered apprehensively. The engineer's fear was palpable as he practically tripped over himself in his haste to leave the ready room.
The mention of Vulcan slave ships and a missing first officer painted a grim picture of this universe.
As the door hissed shut behind Barclay, Picard's attention turned fully to Tyson. The Captain's eyes were probing and intense. "Now then. Inquisitor, I see you've brought us a guest. Who is this? I only asked for Barclay."
"This is Lieutenant Tyson. I know you like to meet crew members with unique potential personally, and I sense something within him. I found him lurking in engineering, Captain. He claims to be new to the ship, but he's unique, like me."
Picard's eyes narrowed, his fingers drummed a slow, deliberate rhythm on the arm of his chair. "Is that so? And what makes you so unique, Lieutenant?"
Tyson met the Captain's gaze unflinchingly. "I'm adaptable, sir. I learn quickly, and I'm not afraid to take initiative when the situation calls for it."
Picard's lips curled into a cold smile. "Initiative, you say? That can be a dangerous quality on my ship, Lieutenant. The wrong kind of initiative could lead to unfortunate consequences."
"I understand the chain of command, Captain. My initiative is always in service of the ship and its mission."
"And what do you know of our mission, Lieutenant? You claim to be new here."
Tyson could feel Troi's eyes on him, gauging his response. "I know enough to understand that the Terran Empire demands strength and loyalty, Captain. I'm here to offer both."
Picard paused, his eyes flickering to Troi. "And what do you make of our new Lieutenant, Inquisitor? Does he speak the truth?"
Troi's dark eyes bore into Tyson, her mind probing at the edges of his consciousness. He could feel her trying to push, to uncover the secrets he held. But Tyson envisioned his mind as a fortress. He could feel her probing the walls, but she could not scale or penetrate them.
"He's... difficult to read, Captain," Troi admitted. "But I sense no deception. He believes what he says."
"Interesting. Very interesting indeed. It's not often someone can resist the Inquisitor's probing, Lieutenant. You continue to surprise us."
Tyson inclined his head slightly. "I aim to be useful, Captain."
"Useful," Picard repeated, tasting the word. "Yes, I suppose we shall see just how useful you can be." He picked up the Klingon dagger and turned it over in his hands. Tyson didn't miss the implied threat.
"Tell me, Lieutenant," Picard said, his voice deceptively casual, "what would you do if you discovered a traitor aboard this ship?"
Tyson didn't hesitate. "I would handle the threat."
"Good answer. But words are easy. Actions are what truly matter in the Empire." He set the dagger down. "Very well. It is not often someone catches the Inquisitor's eye in a good way. You will join Barclay in assisting Lieutenant Yar. Don't disappoint me."
The dismissal was clear. "Understood, Captain. I won't let you down."
As Tyson turned to leave, Picard's voice stopped him. "Oh, and Lieutenant? Remember, on this ship, failure is not an option. The consequences are severe."
"I understand perfectly, sir." With that, Tyson left the ready room and made his way to the tactical area at the rear of the bridge, catching up to Barclay in short order. His attention was immediately drawn to Lieutenant Tasha Yar. She cut an imposing figure. Her blonde hair was cropped short and slicked back. Her sleeveless uniform revealed well-toned arms, and she wore a tied sash around her waist instead of a belt or holster. Barclay approached Yar nervously. "Lieutenant, we're here to assist you in monitoring the Vulcans' transfer."
She sized them up. Without warning, the bald security officer at her side lunged forward, delivering a brutal punch to Barclay's stomach. The engineer doubled over, gasping for air as the officer laughed cruelly at his pain.
Violence and intimidation were clearly as much a part of daily life here as duty was on the Enterprise he knew.
As Barclay struggled to regain his breath, the security officer turned his attention to Tyson, and a cruel grin spread across his face.
Surely, he didn't think Tyson would be as easy a target as Barclay.
But Tyson was disappointed by the man's decision-making. He launched a punch, expecting to take down the larger Tyson… somehow.
He caught the attacker's wrist and countered by pulling the man closer to him, off balance. Tyson's fist connected solidly with the security guard's face. The force of the blow dropped the man. He fell to the ground, unconscious.
A heavy silence fell over the tactical area, broken only by Barclay's soft groans and labored breathing. Tyson could feel the eyes of the bridge crew upon him warily.
"Well, well, it seems we have someone who can handle himself. Not bad. Now, let's see if you can follow orders as well as you throw a punch." Yar's attention snapped to Barclay, still struggling to his feet, slowly regaining his composure. "I have no idea what good you'll do here, but listen up. The slave ship convoy we're escorting is full of Vulcans. They've been working the polar gas mines on Venus, but they're being diverted to Titan for ice mining." The bald security officer remained sprawled on the floor, showing no signs of regaining consciousness anytime soon.
Barclay haunched over the console and said, "Oh! Yes, of course. The, uh, the Vulcan ships. Right." He glanced around furtively before leaning in toward Tyson. "Listen, you're new here, so let me give you some advice. Keep your head down and do exactly as Lieutenant Yar says. She's not someone you want to cross."
Before Tyson could respond, her sharp voice cut through the air. "Barclay! Stop your chattering and get over here." Yar ordered.
"I hope you're more competent than this sniveling excuse for an officer." She jerked her thumb at Barclay, who visibly wilted under her scorn. "We've got Vulcan ships to escort, and I won't have any slip-ups. The Captain's been in a mood since the Commander went missing, and I don't intend to be on the receiving end of his displeasure." But her words held no sincerity or concern over the missing officer.
Then, an urgent communication blared across the screen. "Stargazer, Stargazer, the Vulcans are rising up in convoy ships 5 and 6. They're trying to take control!"
"Barclay, get me a tactical scan of those convoy ships," Tasha ordered.
"Yes, hold on," Barclay stammered.
"Maybe you're good for something after all," she sneered as Barclay worked.
The tactical display flickered to life, showing a detailed schematic of the convoy ships. Tyson quickly studied the readouts. The ships were old, clearly repurposed freighters with minimal defensive capabilities. Their shields were weak, and their weapons systems were non-existent. It was clear that these vessels were never meant for combat.
Yar smiled cruelly. "Firing photon torpedoes," she announced.
"Wait!" Tyson said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her away from the console.
All eyes on the bridge turned to witness this brazen act of defiance.
"Are you challenging my authority?" she demanded.
Tyson stood his ground, acutely aware of the precarious position he was in. He could feel the tension radiating from every crew member on the bridge, their hands inching towards their weapons. But he knew he had to act. Thousands of lives hung in the balance, and he couldn't stand by and watch them be obliterated. Grasping for a reason that would appeal to the ruthless logic of this mirror universe, he spoke quickly and decisively. "Those vessels have minimal defenses," he argued, gesturing towards the tactical display. "Firing even a single photon torpedo would annihilate them. Why would you destroy those ships, killing thousands of slaves? They're valuable. There's no reason to waste resources like that."
Yar's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, her free hand moving to her belt. She pulled a wicked-looking knife from its sheath. "You dare question my decisions? I should gut you where you stand for such insolence."
Tyson didn't flinch. "I'm offering a tactical assessment. Those Vulcans are assets to the Empire. Killing them, destroying those ships, would be wasteful, bordering on treasonous."
Yar's eyes flashed with murderous intent as she lunged forward, her knife aimed straight at Tyson's torso. The bridge crew expected to see blood spilled on the deck plates; Barclay retreated to a corner.
Tyson sidestepped the attack, causing Yar to stumble past him. She whirled around, slashing wildly with her blade. Tyson dodged each swipe of the knife. Yar redoubled her efforts, but he was always out of reach thanks to his superior speed and strength. Growing frustrated, she changed tactics, feinting left, then driving her knee towards Tyson's midsection. He caught her knee with both hands, using her momentum to throw her off balance. As she stumbled, Tyson saw his opening. He struck out, his fist connecting solidly with Yar's jaw. Her head snapped back, her eyes glazing over from the force of the blow. He followed up with a devastating uppercut that lifted her off her feet. She crashed onto a nearby console, sparks flying as her body impacted the equipment.
Tyson closed the distance between them in two quick strides, grabbing her wrist and twisting it sharply. The knife clattered to the floor as the barely-conscious Yar cried out in pain. With his free hand, Tyson delivered a third punch, knocking her out, her body going limp against the ruined console. Tyson released her wrist, letting her slump to the floor. He reached down and took her knife, placing it in his belt.
The bridge was deathly quiet. Barclay's mouth hung open as his eyes darted between Tyson and the unconscious Yar.
Tyson turned to face the main viewscreen, where the Vulcan convoy ships were still visible. His voice was calm and authoritative as he addressed the stunned crew. "Those Vulcans are valuable assets to the Empire. Destroying them is wasteful and short-sighted. There are better ways to handle this situation."
The crew was unsure how to react to this sudden shift in the power dynamic. Barclay was the first to ask, "What... what do you suggest we do, sir?"
"We should disable their engines. That way, we preserve the ships and the slaves without risking their escape."
Before anyone could act or disagree, the doors of the ready room hissed open. Captain Picard strode onto the bridge, taking in the unconscious forms of Lieutenant Yar and the bald security officer still out cold on the floor. His eyes narrowed dangerously. "What the hell is going on here?"
"C-Captain, there was a disagreement about handling the rebelling Vulcan transports. Lieutenant Yar wanted to destroy them with photon torpedoes, but Lieutenant Tyson suggested disabling their engines to preserve the valuable assets." As the engineer's stuttering explanation ended, Picard's gaze locked onto Tyson.
For a long moment, silence reigned on the bridge. The crew held their collective breath, waiting to see how their ruthless Captain would respond to this upheaval in the chain of command. Finally, Picard's lips curled into a cold smile. "Congratulations, Lieutenant Tyson, for being able to think before destroying valuable assets." A ripple of surprise ran through the bridge crew. Picard turned his attention to the downed security guard, who was beginning to stir, groaning as he pushed himself up on his elbows. "You," the Captain barked, "pick yourself up and take Lieutenant Junior Grade Yar to Sickbay."
The emphasis on Yar's demoted rank was not lost on anyone present. The security officer scrambled to comply, half-dragging the still-unconscious Yar.
"Now, Lieutenant Tyson," he said, his voice carrying a dangerous edge of challenge, "let's see if you're as good with a ship's phasers as you are in a fistfight."
"Yes, sir," he replied, moving to the tactical console.
The layout felt familiar, as if he'd spent years mastering its intricacies. He knew this was thanks to his Expert Ship Tactics and Combat Perk, despite never having used a tactical console during his time on the Enterprise-D. He began calibrating the phaser yield, aiming to disable the rebelling transports' engines without causing catastrophic damage to the ships themselves.
A delicate balance required finesse and expertise.
The rest of the bridge crew waited to see if this newcomer could live up to the Captain's expectations. Tyson targeted Convoy Ship Five first, making minute adjustments to the phaser banks. Two rapid-fire bursts erupted from the Stargazer. They slammed into the convoy's shields, causing them to flicker and fail in a brilliant display of energy dissipation. Without missing a beat, he adjusted the phaser yield, reducing its power. The third shot, a carefully calibrated burst, struck the convoy's warp nacelles. The impact was less visually impressive than the blasts against the shields, but Tyson knew it would be far more effective in disabling the ship without risking its destruction.
He didn't pause to admire his handiwork, immediately shifting to Convoy Ship Six. With the same methodical precision, Tyson repeated the process. Two full-power shots to drop the shields, followed by a lower-powered strike to cripple the warp engines.
"Status?" Picard barked.
A lieutenant stationed at one of the auxiliary consoles quickly replied, "Both ships' warp engines and shields are down, Captain. They're dead in the water."
"Congratulations, Lieutenant Tyson. The first half of the mission is successful. Now," Picard continued, his voice taking on a dangerous edge, "let's see how you handle the next phase." The Captain's next words wiped away any sense of accomplishment Tyson might have felt. "We can only use our tractor beam to tow one of the ships to Titan. You need to head down to the transporter room and get over to that convoy. Suppress the uprising within one of the transports so we can send over engineering teams to get the engines back online."
Tyson's stomach churned. He'd be boarding hostile ships, likely facing desperate Vulcans fighting for their freedom. The thought of suppressing a slave rebellion went against everything he believed in.
"Yes, sir," he replied, despite his inner turmoil.
Without another word, he strode towards the turbolift, leaving the bridge behind. As the doors closed, Tyson leaned against the wall. He had to find a way to handle this situation without dooming thousands of Vulcans to a life of servitude.
He arrived in the transporter room and acknowledged the crewman manning the console with a curt nod. Stepping up to the platform, Tyson said, "Go ahead."
The familiar blue beam engulfed him, and in a shimmer of particles, he found himself on the Slave Convoy. The sight that greeted him was one of abject misery. The air was thick with the stench of unwashed bodies, and he fought the urge to gag as the oppressive odor assaulted his senses. The cramped space revealed rows upon rows of cells.
But they were empty.
The escaped slaves' faces were gaunt and hollow-eyed from malnutrition and hard labor, a far cry from the dignified Vulcans he knew in his universe. The walls were stained with grime and what looked disturbingly like dried blood. Tyson's gaze traced the dark streaks, his mind conjuring images of the brutality that must have occurred here. The floor was sticky beneath his feet, a mixture of spilled food, refuse, and other unidentifiable substances that squelched with each step.
The Vulcans, looking disheveled and desperate, surged forward. They wielded makeshift weapons fashioned from broken bits of machinery and torn metal. Their eyes blazed with a fury that seemed at odds with their logical nature but spoke volumes about the horrors they had endured. A tall Vulcan lunged at Tyson. He sidestepped the attack, but another swung a length of pipe, aiming for Tyson's head. He ducked, feeling the rush of air as the weapon passed over him.
Tyson's Augment reflexes and Force sense allowed him to process the chaotic melee he found himself in. He saw the desperation in their eyes, the trembling of their malnourished limbs as they swung their weapons. These weren't trained fighters; they were slaves pushed to the brink.
A younger Vulcan, barely more than a teenager, charged at Tyson, but he caught the makeshift club mid-swing, wrenching it from the boy's grasp, using the momentum to spin the youth around, pushing him back into the crowd.
"Stop!" Tyson shouted. "I'm not here to hurt you!"
His words fell on deaf ears. A woman wielding a sharp piece of metal slashed at Tyson's midsection. He leaped back, the blade missing by inches.
He needed to end this quickly without causing serious harm. These people had suffered enough.
Vulcans were several times stronger than normal humans, but Tyson was an Augment, and he had several other Perks that made him significantly stronger. As he defended himself, his counters were only throws and deflections; he didn't strike back. A Vulcan swung high. He ducked, grabbed the attacker's wrist, and threw him into a group of oncoming assailants. The Vulcan's body collided with his compatriots, sending them sprawling to the grimy floor in a tangle of limbs. Another tried to tackle him from behind, but Tyson sidestepped, causing the Vulcan to stumble past him. The attacker's momentum carried him forward, and he crashed into a nearby bulkhead with a dull thud. Tyson winced at the sound but knew it was better than the alternative of striking back.
Instead of retaliating, Tyson used his words. "Please, listen to me," he pleaded.
But his words were drowned out by the chaos of the fight. Desperate Vulcans continued to press forward. Tyson realized that words alone wouldn't be enough to break through their desperation.
He reached out with the Force. With a push of his hands, Tyson unleashed a wave of Force energy that rippled outward, pushing back everyone around him.
The effect was immediate and startling. Some lost their footing entirely, sliding across the floor until they hit the far wall. Others managed to keep their balance but found themselves several feet away from where they had stood moments before. Seeing an ability that defied logic seemed to penetrate the fog of rage and desperation that had consumed the Vulcans. They froze, their logical minds struggling to process what they had just witnessed. The sudden silence was deafening compared to the previous chaos. Fists lowered as the fight drained from their postures, replaced by a wary curiosity.
One Vulcan bearing the scars of what appeared to be numerous beatings stepped forward. His face was gaunt, cheekbones protruding sharply beneath sallow skin. Deep-set eyes, though wary, held a glimmer of hope. He moved with a slight limp, favoring his left leg, but his bearing was still proud despite the obvious signs of mistreatment.
"You claim to offer assistance. Yet you wear the uniform of our oppressors. Explain."
"The best way to defeat a stronger foe is from the inside. I convinced the Terrans not to destroy this convoy, but if I don't stop your rebellion, they might change their minds." His statement was met with a mixture of reactions. Some Vulcans nodded slightly, seeing the logic in his words. Others remained skeptical, ready to resume the fight.
"Oppressor!" a Vulcan shouted from the back of the crowd. The outburst threatened to reignite the mob.
Tyson kept his hands up, his expression earnest as he addressed the entire group. "I have a plan," he said. "Please, let me explain."
The Vulcans exchanged glances, their eyes narrowed in suspicion. The logical part of their minds warred with the trauma they had endured. Tyson could almost see the internal struggle playing out on their faces. However, none moved to attack again. The Vulcan who had spoken earlier raised an eyebrow, a gesture so familiar to Tyson from his interactions with T'Pol that it almost made him smile. "Proceed."
"I know you have no reason to trust me, but I'm not like the others. I come from a place where Vulcans are respected allies, not slaves. What I did just now, pushing you back without touching you, that's not something Terrans can do," Tyson continued. "I have abilities that can help us, but I need your cooperation. We need to make it look like I've quelled this rebellion, or the Terrans will destroy these ships without a second thought."
A murmur ran through the crowd. The logic of his argument was starting to penetrate their initial hostility. "And if we cooperate, what then? We return to the mines, to slavery and death?"
Tyson shook his head emphatically. "No. That's not the plan. If you can hold on just a little longer, I believe I can find a way to free all of you. But it has to be done carefully."
A Vulcan at the front of the group objected. "You take us for fools. We have no guarantees that you speak the truth. You try to pacify us with words while your actions leave us in chains."
Tyson held up his Evidence of Integrity, and the change in the crowd was immediate. The suspicion in their eyes melted away, replaced by hope. "My name is Tyson. I'm a human-hybrid, born on Earth, but from a different reality." He waved his hand. A portal formed beside him, revealing a space further behind the crowd. The Vulcans muttered in astonishment. Tyson continued, seizing the moment. "I have access to a special transporter system that can create gateways. The plan is to make the Terrans believe that the rebellion has been put down, but after you reach your destination, I'll return and lead you to freedom." In demonstration, he stuck his hand through the portal, and it was visible through the other end of the portal, waving.
"How can we be certain this is not some Terran deception?"
In response, Tyson gestured to the portal. "See for yourself," he invited. "Examine it." He walked through the first portal, only to emerge moments later from the second portal at the other end of the hold. "As you can see, these portals allow instantaneous travel. They're not limited by distance or conventional barriers."
"Now, I need to explain the situation we're in and the plan I propose." He waved his hand again, and both portals disappeared. The Vulcans were now fully focused on him, their eyes intent and alert. "The Terran ship, the one I came from, is prepared to destroy this transport if your rebellion continues," Tyson said gravely. "I know some of you might rather die than continue being slaves. The desire for freedom can be so strong that death might seem preferable to continued captivity." He paused, looking around at the faces before him. Despite their Vulcan control, he could see the pain, the weariness, and the desperate hope in their eyes. "There's a way to get you all to freedom, but it will take time. If you can hold out for a few weeks, I'll find a way to help you."
Murmurs broke out among the Vulcans. Some nodded in agreement, while others looked skeptical. "How can we trust that you will return? What guarantee do we have that this is not merely a ploy to pacify us?"
"I understand your skepticism. In your position, I would question this too. But consider this: I've already demonstrated technology far beyond what the Terrans possess. I've shown you that I can instantly transport you to another location. If I intended to subdue you, why would I reveal such capabilities and not simply use them? Furthermore, I could have easily used my strength to overpower you when you attacked. Instead, I chose to talk, to explain. Does that align with the behavior of a Terran oppressor?"
"What you propose is for us to continue our captivity for a short time, with the promise of eventual freedom. It is... a difficult proposition to accept."
"I know I'm asking a lot. But consider the alternatives. If you continue your rebellion now, the Terrans will destroy this ship. What I'm offering is a chance at freedom." He looked around the hold, meeting the eyes of as many Vulcans as he could. "I need time to find a safe place for you all, somewhere beyond the reach of the Terran Empire. Somewhere, you can rebuild your lives in freedom. But to do that, I need you to hold on just a little longer."
A younger Vulcan stepped forward, his face etched with a mixture of hope and doubt. "And if weeks pass and you do not return? What then?"
Tyson's face grew serious. "I will return."
The Vulcans began to discuss among themselves, their voices low but intense. Tyson could see the conflict in their eyes, where the desire for immediate action warred against the logic of patience and planning. After some deliberation, they answered, "Your proposal is... logical. While it goes against our immediate desires, it offers the highest probability of success with the least risk."
"Thank you for your trust. I promise I will do everything in my power to ensure your freedom. Now, we must create the illusion that your rebellion has been suppressed. The Terrans will be expecting me to report soon."
Slowly, the Vulcans began to disperse, returning to their designated areas.
Tyson tapped his combadge, and Picard's voice crackled through the comm. "Lieutenant, I thought you'd have been beaten to death by Vulcans by now. Report."
"Sir, the Vulcans in this transport are under control and returning to their cells. We'll need repair crews and replacement pilots over here."
"Excellent work, Lieutenant. Stand by for reinforcements and transport. Afterward, immediately return to the Stargazer."
As Tyson materialized on the transporter pad of the Stargazer, he could see approval in the eyes of the transporter chief. Word of his success had spread quickly through the ship. Over the next few hours, thanks to his precise targeting earlier, the repairs progressed swiftly. As the final checks were completed, Tyson stood on the bridge of the Stargazer, watching the convoy ships on the main viewscreen. Captain Picard approached, standing beside him.
"Impressive work, Lieutenant. You've proven your worth today."
"Thank you, sir. I'm glad we could preserve these valuable lives."
Picard's lips curled into a cold smile. "Indeed. Set course for Titan. We'll escort these ships the rest of the way to the ice mines."
— Star Jumper —
Later that evening, the cargo bay doors hissed shut behind Tyson as he entered. The large space was dimly lit and quiet, filled with stacked containers and equipment. This unused space was where he'd arrived earlier, and as expected, the air shimmered, and Ensign Ro materialized, as the Gray Goo Suit dropped its cloak.
Her expression was animated, quite different from her initially guarded demeanor. "You severely undersold the AI within the suit," she said, gesturing enthusiastically. "The tactical analysis capabilities alone are incredible. I've never experienced anything like it."
Tyson smiled, pleased to see her excitement. "Yeah, Vicky's awesome," he replied. "She's saved my life more times than I can count. More than just equipment, she's a trusted friend."
"Friend is an accurate assessment," Ro agreed, her voice carrying a note of wonder. "The depth of interaction, the intuitive responses... She's far beyond any computer system I've encountered."
"Ro, I need the suit for a few minutes," Tyson interrupted, his expression growing more serious. "Can you lay low here? I'll fill you in when I get back."
Understanding the urgency in his tone, she held out her hand, and the Gray Goo Suit began to stream off her body like liquid mercury to coalesce around Tyson's form. The nanites spread across his skin, forming a seamless second skin.
"It's good to be back with you," Vicky's voice echoed in his HUD.
"Likewise," Tyson responded.
"The way it anticipates needs and adapts to different users is remarkable," she commented. "I've worked with adaptive systems before, but nothing this sophisticated."
"That's because Vicky isn't just a system. She's a true AI."
"I noticed," Ro said.
"Find somewhere comfortable to wait. This shouldn't take too long, but I need to move quickly."
Ro moved toward a secluded corner of the cargo bay, where several large containers created a natural hiding spot. "I'll be here," she assured him. "But I'd like a full briefing when you return."
"Of course," Tyson agreed. "And Ro... thanks for understanding and trusting me earlier."
She waved off his gratitude. "We're in this together now, aren't we? Besides, after experiencing what that suit can do, I'm inclined to trust your judgment."
He activated his Scaling Cloak, rendering him invisible. With a wave of his hand, a portal materialized before him. Through it, he could see the now-empty interior of the Vulcan convoy ship. The stale air hit him immediately, carrying the lingering scent of unwashed bodies, fear, and desperation. Tyson moved swiftly to the airlock, where the ship was still docked with the Titan ice mine. He placed his hand on the airlock controls, and the door cycled open with a pneumatic hiss, revealing the stark, utilitarian architecture of the Titan facility. The ice mine consisted of industrial corridors and cavernous chambers.
Overseers barked orders, and the distant sound of machinery echoed through the halls. Navigating deeper into the complex, he began to piece together the layout. The upper levels seemed dedicated to administration and security, while the lower levels housed the mining operations. He noted the locations of guard stations, security checkpoints, and surveillance cameras. The temperature dropped noticeably as Tyson descended into the bowels of the facility. His breath would have been visible if not for his Scaling Cloak. The walls were slick with condensation, and the air carried a biting chill.
It was in these lower levels that Tyson found what he was looking for. A series of chambers had been carved into the ice. Hundreds of Vulcan prisoners were chipping away at the ice walls. Terran guards patrolled the catwalks above, their hands resting on their weapons, ready to quell any sign of rebellion. The Vulcans worked sluggishly from the cold and exhaustion.
Moving carefully along the edge of the chamber, he studied the layout and security measures, noting the pattern of guard rotations and the placement of force field generators that contained the prisoners.
He made his way back to the upper levels, finding the main control room, its walls lined with monitors displaying various parts of the facility. Any plans he made to liberate this facility in the future required access to this room. Now that he'd scouted the key areas, he opened a portal back to the Stargazer. All he needed was to find a safe place for the Vulcans or regain access to his Personal Reality.
Episode: Star Trek Mirror Universe - Mirror Broken Complete!
+150 RP
Reality Points: 1450
— Star Jumper —
Tyson
Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy, Officer (Lieutenant), Displaced
Race: Augment Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)
Character Points: 400, [250 KOTOR (Vicky)]
Reality Points: 1450
Ship Points: 2650 [1100 Mirror Universe]
Credits: 115,350
Status Effects: (none)
Drawbacks:
Gauntlet (Locked)
Ensign Marty Stu
A Simple Re'Q'uest
Hybrid (Betazoid)
Amok Time/Blood Fever
Outlawed
Divine Voyeur
Black Coat Society
Alien Threat
The Science Directorate Has Determined...
Spoils of War
Perks:
Cosmic Awareness
Out of Nowhere
Going Native
Live and Let Live
This is (Not?) Rocket Science
Kinda Bland
Determinator
Painted On
Snakeskin
Adaptable
Duelist
Master with your Hands
Best of the Best
Everything Is A Weapon
Augment
Force Specialization: Intelligence
Tactical Info
Sever Force
Specialty: Operations; Sub-Specialties (Communications, Engineering, Piloting)
Speedy Promotions
Untainted
Q This
We Are Still Starfleet
Fit For Duty: Command Division - Expert Ship Tactics and Combat, Expert Ship Command
Change The Present
Items:
Laser Blade
Spacesuit
Agony Booth
Cloaking Minefield
Lightsaber
Gray Goo Suit
Transwarp Beam Equation
Iconic Item: Iconic Interceptor
Evidence Of Integrity
Dressed For Success And Murder
Companions:
(Vicky) V-KO IV Nursedroid: Access Key, Artificial Intelligence Upgrade, Gray Goo Upgrade, Master With Your Hands, Light Weapon, Jumper's Master Key, Scaling Cloak, Origin: Jedi, Force Specialization: Intelligence, Enhanced Mind, Lightsaber, Armored Robes, Battle Meditation, Origin: AI, Origin: Elite, Memory Banks, Social Algorithms, Above Law and Reason, Pedigree, Planetary Domicile, Photonic Rapier, Security Features, Quantum Locked BUS, Adaptive Personal Force Field, False Star Forge.
T'Pol: Access Key, Origin: Rubber Forehead, Origin: Elite, Above Law and Reason, Pedigree, Distinct Feature, Everone Likes Green Chicks, Planetary Domicile, Photonic Rapier, Protector Drones, Space Elf, Space Wizard, Symbol
D'Lavina
Personal Reality:
Access Key (Additional Keys, Key Link)
Control Room
Security System
Antechamber
Warehouse
High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Trek Enterprise, Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic)
Medical Bay (The Nano-Medical Lab, The Bio-Synthesis Lab, Microbiome Replacement Lab, The Counseling Bay)
Housing Complex (Basic Nutrition, A Little Less Basic Nutrition, A Lot Less Basic Nutrition, Choice Apartments, Luxury Apartments, Who's Got the Powa, Pipes Pipes Pipes)
Playing With Portals (Portal Link, Portal Control Rod, Free Portal, Portal Aperature x4)
The Mystical Menagerie
Guardian's Greenhouse
Ship Sections (Cryo-Chambers)
Personal Mini-Reality (The Village, Wildlife for Your Wild Life, The Meaning of Life)
Digital Extranet (Voice Over Wharehous Protocol Cellular Service)
Spaceships:
Tramp Freighter (Destroyed - Respawn on 02/28/2365)
Sith Interceptor (Destroyed - Respawn on 04/18/2365) (Bridge Upgrade)
Automated Repair Station (Ship Size Rating: IV, Station, Bridge, Space Hulk, Artificial Gravity, Cryo-Chambers, Auto-Repair System, Synapses, Distributed, Automated Ship, Analytic Suite, Docking Port, Transporter Room, Matter Printer, Negentropy Reactor, Deflector Shields, Clarketech Module, Production Lines, Hangar, Cargo Bay, Living Quarters)
Narada (Ship Size Rating: IV, Artificial Gravity, Alcubierre Drive, Auto-Repair System, Exotic Materials (Nanomaterials), Cargo Bay, Hangar, Hyperdrive (Transwarp), Antimatter Reactor, Navigation Suite, Analytic Suite, Deflector Shields, Missiles, Cyber Warfare Suite (Mining Drill)
Interdictor (Destroyed - Respawn on 04/18/2365) (Ship Size Rating: III, Artificial Gravity, Hangar, Hyperdrive, Fusion Reactor, Navigation Suite, Point Defense, Deflector Shields, Jump Suppression Field, Beam Weapons, Follower Crew)
False Star Forge (Destroyed - Respawn on 05/01/2365) (Ship Size Rating: III, Station, A.I. Core, Entertainment Deck, Exotic Materials: Nanomaterials, Modular, Secure, Nanite Shroud)
Symbol (Ship Size Rating: II, Station, Distributed, Battery Banks, Physical Armor, Beam Weapons, Gravitic Shields, Exotic Materials: Crystal, A.I. Core, Modular, Inertialess Drive)
Iconic Interceptor (Ship Size Rating: IV) (General Upgrades: Articial Gravity, Auto-Repair System, Bridge Upgrade, Modular, Exotic Materials: Nanomaterials, Exotic Materials: Crystal, Secure) (Sections: Cargo Bay, Cryo-Chambers, Hangar, Living Quarters, Production Lines) (Controls: A.I. Core, Distributed, Synapses) (Crew: Follower Crew, Automated Ship) (Propulsion: Alcubierre Drive, Hyperdrive (Transwarp), Hyperdrive, Inertialess Drive) (Reactors: Battery Banks, Fusion Reactor, Antimatter Reactor, Negentropy Reactor) (Sensors: Navigation Suite, Analytic Suite) (Shields: Physical Armor, Point Defense, Deflector Shields, Gravitic Shields, Jump Suppression Field, ) (Utilities: Docking Port, Entertainment Deck, Transporter Room, Clarktech Matter Printer) (Weapons: Beam Weapons, Missiles, Cyber Warfare Suite (Mining Drill), Nanite Shroud)