Star Trek®: Mirror Universe: Shards and Shadows

by Marco Palmieri

  She knows what your mother thinks, Kes taunted. Ask her what your mother thinks of you.

  B’Elanna pounded her fist against her chest. “I’m Miral’s daughter! Why didn’t she change our crest? Why has she denied me?”

  Ishka drew back. “Have you lost your latinum? You’ve been acting odd ever since you started the treatments. Your mother wouldn’t stand for your behavior, I can tell you that.”

  She knows! Kes goaded. Your mother hates you. When she finds out you’re alive, will she be happy or mad? If you could read your mother’s mind, would you find love or contempt?

  “I can’t stand it!” B’Elanna screamed, clasping her hands over her ears, as if she could somehow stop Kes’s voice in her head.

  “I’m calling Miral,” Ishka declared. “You need help.”

  “No!” B’Elanna lunged at Ishka, grabbing her sticklike arm.

  Ishka’s knees buckled, and she let out a high-pitched squeal as if she were being murdered. “Let me go!”

  “I have to be there when she finds out. I have to know the truth.” B’Elanna gave Ishka a final shake, releasing her.

  Ishka collapsed onto the floor. Her gnarled hands covered her face as she moaned and rocked. “This is the thanks I get for helping you?”

  “Tam!” B’Elanna ordered. “If you send a message to my mother, I’ll come back and kill you, I swear! Do you understand?”

  B’Elanna nudged Ishka with her toe, and the Ferengi let off another panicked squeal. “I won’t! I swear! Don’t hurt me…”

  B’Elanna longed to shake her until she shut up, until her head flapped back and forth like a broken bird. But her mother wouldn’t like it if she killed one of her business associates without a good reason. “Don’t you forget it—not a word to my mother or anyone else that I’m alive, or you’ll regret it. I’m going to Earth to see her, and I’ll know if she’s surprised.”

  Trembling from rage, B’Elanna activated the transporter to take her verbal command. There was a red haze hanging before her as she stepped onto the disc. She had only one thought: to see her mother and find out the truth behind those fierce eyes. To find out if Miral despised her as much as B’Elanna hated Miral.

  B’Elanna prepared to order the transporter to take her to the ship, but as she spoke, Kes pushed her into tapping out altogether different transporter coordinates. B’Elanna realized too late that something was terribly wrong, because she was already saying, “Energize.”

  B’Elanna materialized in a black room with a yellow grid on the walls. A holodeck. It was definitely not her ship.

  “Computer, what is my location?” she demanded, but there was no response. “Transporter, return me to Ishka’s complex.”

  She didn’t dematerialize; the black walls dissolved into the arched red rock of her quarters on Archanis. But these tidy rooms lacked the dense layer of discarded clothing that had somehow accumulated over the weeks.

  With a catch in her voice, she ordered, “Take me to Monor Base.”

  The cavernous white space of her old office appeared with the window wall in front of her. She went forward and pressed her face against the cold plasteel, looking through the clouds at the planet turning below, exactly like it was before the floating city crashed to the surface. She wondered if she would find her old torture chambers down on the seventh level and if Thomas would be waiting inside.

  B’Elanna demanded in every way she could, in every language she knew—Get me out of here! But the walls simply melted into new rooms, in both the past and the present. The only time a disembodied voice spoke was when she summoned up a d’k tahg and in pure desperation tried to stab it into her own chest.

  “Safety protocols prohibit injury,” a computer stated in a pleasant female voice.

  “Who are you?” B’Elanna screamed, beating her fists against the window. But the voice didn’t speak again. Was it a trap laid by Crell Moset? Had Ishka somehow forced her to say those coordinates? Who had caught her like a rat in a cage?

  She flailed against the window until she finally sank to the floor, gasping. With a whimper, she whispered, “I want my mother.”

  Miral appeared before her, wearing full armor and carrying a bat-leth. From her sharply defined forehead ridges to her strong, square hands, she was the embodiment of her people. But B’Elanna knew there was a flaw at her core, a weakness inside that made her desire fragile Terrans in her bed. If she hadn’t had that weakness, then B’Elanna wouldn’t have been born a half-breed. Then B’Elanna wouldn’t have tried to kill her.

  “You were supposed to die!” she cried. “Why did that doctor save you?”

  Miral sneered at B’Elanna lying on the floor. “WejpuH! Show them you have the heart of a Klingon!”

  B’Elanna moaned and put her hands over her face, remembering how Ishka had done the same. She was nothing better than a doddering old woman. “End program!” she cried. She couldn’t stand to see her mother and not read her mind. Not know the truth about who she was.

  Huddled in the black holodeck, she beat on the yellow grid on the floor until her fists were bloody.

  Tuvok held up the holocube. “B’Elanna is contained. Well done, Kes.”

  Queasy, Kes could almost feel B’Elanna’s enraged misery radiating from the cube. “She deserves it. She’s a perverted excuse for a humanoid.”

  Tuvok gave her a look. “I did not expect vindictiveness from you, Kes.”

  “It’s not because of what she did to me, Tuvok. You haven’t been inside her mind for days like I have. She’s consumed by herself, by her own desires.” I’m not like her, I’ll never be like her…

  “Are you all right, Kes?”

  Kes forced herself to meet his eyes. “I’m glad I could help you stop them.”

  “As am I.” Tuvok seemed ready to say more, but he thought better of it. “Gather your belongings. It is time to leave.”

  While she was in the other room, she heard Tuvok contact his ship. Kes went to the archway to see Neelix appear on the screen. His sad expression lifted somewhat when Tuvok reported, “Our mission is complete, Mr. Neelix. Once Harry and Seska wipe Ishka’s computer, you may all depart.”

  Kes clasped her hands to her heart at the sound of Neelix’s raspy voice. “So, you caught them? I’m sure a lot of people will be glad to hear that, very glad to hear that.”

  “We caught B’Elanna,” Tuvok corrected. “Crell Moset is regrettably deceased.”

  “I’m sure you did your best, Mr. Vulcan. You can’t blame yourself when things go wrong in a complicated task such as this.”

  It was typical of Neelix to worry about others and try to cheer them up even when he was feeling bad. But Tuvok normally didn’t engage in small talk. Why was he speaking to Neelix in front of her?

  It’s a test. Tuvok needs to know if he can trust me.

  Kes let herself imagine what it would be like to trust Tuvok again, to feel protected and cared for once again. But it was too late for that. She forced herself to stand there and not call out to Neelix. She stared at his face, searching every new hollow and line that she had given him, and hoped he could forgive her.

  Several days later, Tuvok dropped Kes off at the entrance to the Memory Omega base deep inside Regula. She paused in the doorway to the lift that would take her down inside the cavern. “I’m sorry everything has gone badly between us, Tuvok.”

  “As am I,” Tuvok said.

  As Kes walked into the lift, she patted her bag, where she had secreted the holocube with B’Elanna inside. She had switched it for a duplicate holocube that she had replicated on the ship while Tuvok was sleeping. It was a surface facsimile only, but it had a readout exactly like the original, as if B’Elanna’s energy was contained inside. He wouldn’t discover that it was fake until he tried to beam her back out, assuming he ever did.

  Kes wasn’t going to let them stop her from rejoining Neelix. She would leave soon enough with the holocube in her possession, giving her the leverage she needed to keep the rebelli
on from interfering with her.

  Then…then they’ll find out they messed with the wrong telepath.

  Family Matters

  Keith R.A. DeCandido

  HISTORIAN’S NOTE: This tale is set in 2372 (Old Calendar), several months after the events of the Star Trek: Deep Space Nine episode “Shattered Mirror.”

  Keith R.A. DeCandido has chronicled the adventures of Klag, son of M’Raq, in the mainline Star Trek universe in numerous places: the novels Diplomatic Implausibility, The Brave and the Bold Book 2, A Good Day to Die, Honor Bound, Enemy Territory, and A Burning House and the short story “loDnI’pu’ vavpu’ je” in Tales from the Captain’s Table. He’s also worked in the Mirror Universe before, having provided the short novel The Mirror-Scaled Serpent in Obsidian Alliances, telling the tale of the MU equivalents to Star Trek: Voyager’s characters. His other Trek work includes novels (Q&A, Articles of the Federation, The Art of the Impossible, Demons of Air and Darkness, and the USA Today bestselling A Time for War, a Time for Peace), short stories (in the anthologies Prophecy and Change, No Limits, Tales of the Dominion War, Distant Shores, The Sky’s the Limit, and the forthcoming Seven Deadly Sins), eBooks (ten installments of the Starfleet Corps of Engineers series, which he also co-developed, and the final part of the Slings and Arrows miniseries), and comic books (Perchance to Dream, the forthcoming Alien Spotlight II: Klingons: Four Thousand Throats…). He’s also written fiction in plenty of other universes. Find out more at his official Web site at decandido.net, or read his inane ramblings at kradical.livejournal.com.

  Transcript from Obsidian Order listening device placed in the offices of Supreme Legate Skrain Dukat

  SUPREME LEGATE SKRAIN DUKAT: Ah, cousin! Come in.

  GUL AKELLEN MACET: Thank you, Legate.

  DUKAT: Please, Akellen, let us not stand on ceremony. We are family. We need not speak so formally.

  MACET: Perhaps, but I am not here as your cousin, but rather as a gul in your service.

  DUKAT: Very well. Some kanar?

  MACET: Please. [sound of drink being poured and Macet sitting down] Thank you.

  DUKAT: So, tell me, Akellen, what duty brings you back to the homeworld?

  MACET: The weapons-manufacturing facility on Mempa VI—convoys from that facility have been raided with alarming regularity.

  DUKAT: I seem to recall a security briefing on the subject—it was Terran rebels, I thought.

  MACET: I don’t believe it is the rebels, cousin. Whoever planned these raids knew the best locations to attack the freighters, knew when they’d be farthest from any assistance, and also knew precisely where to hit them to cause maximum damage. I don’t think the rebels are that well informed. Do you?

  DUKAT: Then who do you believe is responsible, Akellen?

  MACET: Someone with access to high-level Alliance intelligence.

  DUKAT: You accuse a citizen of the Alliance?

  MACET: Not just any citizen. It has to be someone powerful or rich.

  DUKAT: The one tends to go hand in hand with the other.

  MACET: True. It is also likely a Klingon.

  DUKAT: Really? Why is that?

  MACET: Because the weapons used against the freighters were all Klingon disruptors. The Terrans take weapons wherever they can get them—same for their ships. But all of the raids have used Klingon weaponry.

  DUKAT: You make a compelling case. But if I recall correctly, Mempa VI falls under Captain Kurn’s purview.

  MACET: I know. That is why I am coming to see you.

  DUKAT: [laughs] You claim to come as gul to legate, but in truth, you wish to ask a favor of your cousin.

  MACET: [pause] Yes. I have attempted to alert Kurn, but he has not responded to any of my attempts to communicate with him, nor has he acknowledged my reports.

  DUKAT: And his snubs offend you?

  MACET: My offense is of little concern—I simply wish to preserve the safety of the Alliance.

  DUKAT: Kurn is a difficult case. He is the brother to the Regent and therefore feels he is entitled to be more than the captain of a Bird of Prey. In fact, rumor has it that he’s angling for one of the new Regent-class vessels.

  MACET: I thought all of the shipmasters for those ships were assigned.

  DUKAT: The Gorkon still remains captainless.

  MACET: Didn’t the Regent give that one to General Martok’s whelp?

  DUKAT: [chuckles] Almost. Drex was made first officer, thus simultaneously doing a favor to Martok and offering him insult.

  MACET: [sighs] I care little for the politics, cousin—I am more than happy to leave such matters to you. I simply wish to find out who is raiding our weapons deliveries.

  DUKAT: As do I. I will look into the matter. Have the Trager standing by. With luck, I will be able to send you to Mempa VI soon.

  MACET: Thank you, cousin.

  DUKAT: No, thank you, Akellan. Your devotion to duty will not go unnoticed, I assure you.

  Transcript from the official record of the Klingon High Council

  COUNCIL HERALD: Kurn, son of Mogh, step forward!

  REGENT WORF: It is good to see you, brother.

  CAPTAIN KURN: And you as well, my Regent.

  REGENT: I assume you come here for reasons of duty, since family matters would not require a formal audience with the High Council.

  KURN: Indeed, my Regent. I believe that there is a plot to stockpile weapons, possibly by the Terran rebellion.

  REGENT: Rebels! Pfagh! I spit on the rebellion!

  KURN: As do we all, my Regent. That is why these raids must be stopped. Several shipments from Mempa VI have been hijacked.

  REGENT: Terrans. They haunt my every step. They must be destroyed!

  KURN: Of course, my Regent. With your permission, I will use the Hegh’ta and two other vessels to protect the next convoy. We will expose the Terran cowards and destroy them!

  REGENT: I expect no less from you, brother—you will bring the rebels to me!

  KURN: It is my honor to serve you, my Regent.

  LEGATE CORAT DAMAR: My Regent, if I may, these attacks are known to me. I believe that one of our guls—a fine officer named Macet—has, independently of Captain Kurn, detected a pattern to these attacks. I hereby request that the Trager, Macet’s vessel, be part of the captain’s convoy.

  REGENT: It will be done! Qapla’, brother!

  KURN: Qapla’, my Regent.

  Message from Captain Kurn, son of Mogh, on the I.K.S. Hegh’ta, I.K.S. Hegh’ta, to Commander Drex, son of Martok, the House Martok estate, Qo’noS

  Our hour is at hand, my friend. I have been alerted by a Cardassian gul to a series of attacks on weapons convoys from Mempa VI. It may well be Terrans, but even if it is not, I have alerted my brother to the attacks, and let him know that I shall be at the forefront of the effort to stop them. I believe that a successful blow to the Terran rebellion will be what it takes to allow my brother to give me command of the Gorkon.

  I grow weary of the political games. The Cardassians claim to be offended by nepotism, so Worf keeps me off the High Council and leaves me to command only a Bird of Prey to appease the Cardassians. Yet the gul who alerted me to the raids was a man named Macet. That petaQ that Dukat sent to represent Cardassia on Qo’noS, Damar, forced Macet’s ship, the Trager, to be part of the convoy. Damar doesn’t use the commode without consulting with Dukat first, so Damar’s request had to come straight from him—and Macet is Dukat’s cousin. I will need to keep an eye on Macet, make sure he does not attempt to suborn my own ambitions. Whether these are Terrans or not, I will make sure that my brother thinks it’s the Terrans. His obsession with them since the defeat at Terok Nor will someday prove his undoing. For now, I will use it for my own ends. And for yours.

  The third vessel will be the I.K.S. Pagh. Her captain is a fat fool named Kargan, but he is of the same House as Councillor K’Tal—and the councillor will be a useful ally. Unlike Macet, I doubt Kargan will have the ability to take credit for this victory from me.
>
  Once we both serve on the Gorkon, my friend—oh, that will be a great day…

  Message from Commander Klag, son of M’Raq, on the I.K.S. Pagh, to Commander Dorrek, son of M’Raq, on the I.K.S. Slivin

  Greetings, brother! It is good to hear that you played such a critical role in the battle against the Tholians. Well done! I only wish Father were still alive to see your victory. At this rate, you will win our wager and become the first son of M’Raq to command his own ship.

  For my part, I am content to serve under Captain Kargan. He is a great man from a noble House, and it is an honor to serve with him.

  We have been assigned to a duty far less glorious than the front lines against the Tholians. We are to aid Captain Kurn and Gul Macet in their defense of a weapons convoy from Mempa VI.

  I must confess, brother, I find this duty unsettling. Kurn is the brother to the Regent, and he has proven a difficult commander to follow. Kargan assigned me to be the liaison with Gul Macet—which was a surprise, as Kargan generally assumes such duties himself—and Macet informed me that he believes a highly placed Klingon is responsible for these attacks. Based on the available evidence, I was compelled to agree with the Cardassian’s conclusion.

  Kurn took offense at that notion, and questioned my honor. I defended myself with the truth, but I honestly have no idea if that placated him or not. I must be on my guard with Kurn.

  Transcript of communications logs of the I.K.S. Pagh, while communicating with the I.K.S. Hegh’ta, the Central Command vessel Trager, and the freighter Kamich

  CAPTAIN KURN (Hegh’ta): Captain, I believe that—

  LIEUTENANT KEGREN (Pagh): Captain, I am detecting a warp imbalance in the Kamich.

  GLINN TAROC (Kamich): Captain Kurn, this is Glinn Taroc. Something has happened to our warp engines. We must drop out of warp now.