This is a sequel to 'INCIS', which featured the counterparts of familiar characters, set in the Mirror Universe. A popular variant of the 'Star Trek' series featured the 'Terran Empire', with altered versions of characters, and 'Enterprise' established that the Empire existed by at least the 19th Century.
Many authors have done MU stories. I've done several 'Star Trek' ones, but to my knowledge no one has explored what the NCIS might be like in such a world. Therefore I decided I would.
Belisarius Productions owns the regular NCIS. No one owns their Mirror Universe counterparts but unfortunately I can't claim them either. I'm not making any money off this, it is for fun.
One Caveat: If you're not familiar with Star Trek's 'Mirror Universe' or 'Terran Empire', these are not the people you're used to.
Now sit back, pull up a glass and prepare to be shaken - and stirred.
Rated 'M' for Disturbing Imagery and Violence. Deathfic?
Shepherd of the Lost
by JMK758
Chapter One
Punishment
Inquisitor Level 3 Christopher Pacci of the Imperial Navy Criminal Inquisition Squadron stops before the outer door of the Grand Inquisitor's sanctum and carefully inspects his uniform. The space black leather is an intimidating sight for others, but Pacci has another reason for apprehension and conceals it as he performs this minute self-inspection.
The black uniform is accented by the rank boards on his shoulders, black with three strips of silver, the black pistol in the holster at his right hip, the black handled dagger in the sheath at his left thigh, the only spot of color is the gold badge at his left breast. That badge is duplicated on his black eight corner hat and as the symbol on the door before him.
The emblem, rendered in two foot high colored metal, is a shield containing the Arms of the Imperial Navy, before which is the Imperial sigil, an ancient Roman short sword impaling the Earth from pole to pole. Just visible between the northern pole and the guard of the sword are the letters INCIS. A black eagle spreads its wings menacingly over all.
Satisfied that not a crease, not a speck of dust mars the perfection of the leather, Pacci touches the intercom button next to the door. He knows he's been watched since he started down the long corridor.
"Speak!" the woman's voice snaps.
"Inquisitor L3 Pacci to see the Grand Inquisitor."
The door swings inward. Pacci steps past the twin machine guns concealed in either wall outside the door. Everyone knows they're there, everyone approaches this door with the same carefully concealed anticipation.
Men and women have been summoned to this office, never to pass the outer door.
x
The outer office contains a desk to his right but a single chair for the black woman who regards him coldly. On the walls are displayed large photos of Naval and Storm Trooper victories. They're not hard to come by; the Imperial Navy has never failed an engagement and the last global conflict was in 1967 and had cemented the Empire's dominance of the world.
There are two guards on duty outside the Grand Inquisitor's office. They're clad in polished midnight body armor that catches the light from the window behind Cynthia Sumner. Helmeted, they carry high powered assault rifles whose rounds are capable of piercing both front and back of the best body armor and Pacci can't help but be particularly aware of their discerning stares. He tries to ignore them, to relegate them to the status of harmless background, for to display apprehension is to invite suspicion, and in these rooms suspicion is a short and terminal illness.
Their position, the inner door in line with the outer, is not accidental. They're the last line of defense. If anyone who was not authorized to enter did somehow survive getting past that booby trapped, steel inlayed outer door, he'd be met with extreme prejudice.
x
Sumner barely grants him an icy glance. "Go in."
At the touch of a button the door to her right opens and he steps through between the glaring, armored guards. When it swings shut, the click has the finality of the tomb.
Pacci slams to Attention. His salute - closed fist slapping to his chest, arm level, then extended outward parallel to the floor, an expression of power - is done with military precision. The man before him has been known to punish people for less.
The gray haired man looks up, his scowl making his eyes seem like twin lasers armed and ready to fire. His is an unforgiving face, set in the pattern of the thoughts behind it. It's said that a man's soul, a lifetime of thoughts and attitudes, are carved upon the visage. This man had been a Colonel in the Storm Troopers before transferring to and rising within INCIS. In the years he's known him, since long before he'd become Grand Inquisitor, Pacci has never known Gibbs to smile.
This face is not meant for smiling.
x
"L3 Christopher Pacci reports to the Grand Inquisitor."
"Why?" The single word carries deadly threat. Lee Gibbs had not summoned him; he had better have an incredibly good reason for being here.
"Sir, I work in MTAC-"
"I know where you work, Three, I assigned you." Gibbs' cold tone offers a single warning: 'Get to the point or I'll shoot you myself.'
"Sir, we've received a request from Inquisitor Cassidy aboard the Saratoga. She wants… she Requests an Empire-wide transmission."
"Does she now?" The threat seems to shift off Pacci and he cannot be happier.
"Yes, sir. All Services, all bases, complete contact."
"Paula Cassidy is a Level 4 aboard a Cruiser. Isn't it presumptuous of an L4 to make such a request?"
"Sir, yes sir." Pacci draws himself to even stricter Attention. If Gibbs is going to be annoyed, he doesn't want to become a target.
x
Gibbs stands up, his posture ramrod straight. The sun through the three inch thick bulletproof, polarized window behind him glints off the polished black leather and the gold braid at his cuffs and shoulders. Like the other Inquisitors his uniform has the Sword and World emblem at his left arm near the shoulder and at the right sleeve is the INCIS patch. His shield gleams like a mirror as he takes his gold encrusted black cover off the hat stand to the right of his desk.
"Come. Let's see what our young Inquisitor thinks is so important that the world should know it." The door opens automatically at the signal from the control in his pocket, he need not slow his approach.
Pacci follows the taller man through the outer office, neither of them glance at the black woman at the desk. The senior guard falls in step behind them, assault rifle at ready. They cross the elevated platform to the MTAC facility above the Operations room that covers the expanse of floor below. One of the two black uniformed men guarding the door, hand always on the pistol at his hip, sees his Grand Inquisitor approaching and uses the retinal scanner on the wall to unlock the door.
Gibbs doesn't slow down as he turns and passes through the open door. The guard, relieved to have responded in time, returns to Attention when the men pass and the door locks behind them. The senior bodyguard takes position at the rail, overlooking Operations.
x
MTAC is a large facility with the highest of security. The monitor stations, ten rows of ten, five to a side off the central aisle, maintain surveillance over hundreds of security stations each while ceiling cameras watch the watchers. There are 99 men and women on duty in the room and Pacci takes a step to his monitor station at the right rear and calls out in a loud voice "Grand Inquisitor on deck!" The throng snaps to attention, About Faces in unison and a hundred fists snap to a hundred chests, a hundred fists punch outward.
Gibbs returns the salute, his eyes fixed on the huge display screen and the blonde woman's ten foot high face. The thin band above the visor of her black eight point hat is silver, as befits 3 and 4 Operatives. Her body motion shows that she has not forgotten to salute. Gibbs stalks down the slanted floor to the huge face.
"Paula Cassidy, Inquisitor Level 4," she identifies herself formally. Shoulder boards bearing two silver strips are momentarily visible.
"Why have you requested Empire-wide contact, Cassidy?"
"In accord with Regulation 27, Grand Inquisitor."
Gibbs doesn't let the surprise he feels reach his face. It has been over a year since he has heard Regulation 27 invoked. Perhaps it has been too long.
He glances back over his shoulder, addressing the men and women collectively. "Transmit this to all facilities planet-wide."
He needn't wait for acknowledgement of this order - no one would be suicidal enough to fail or even risk being the last to succeed. Instead, he addresses the woman. "Proceed."
x
"I am Inquisitor Paula Cassidy aboard the INS Saratoga in the Indian Ocean," she announces formally. The image shifts, jumping as Cassidy puts on the miniature camera. Positioned next to her right eye, it will display everything she sees.
The view turns to the left, to a medium close-up of a black man wearing the blue uniform of a Navy Chief Petty Officer. On his shoulders are the bars of his rank, on the collars of his blue shirt are the insignia of his division on his left and the Imperial Sword and Earth sigil on his right. "With me is Chief Petty Officer Aaron Copeland. We are outside the Ward Room of the Saratoga. Chief?"
The man pushes open a large metal door. Inside, seated in a chair several feet into the room, pressed into a corner, a uniformed Sailor slumbers, his head nestled in the steel corner.
"Chief, identify this Sailor."
"Machinist Mate Second Class Harold Kingston."
"Assignment?"
"2000 to 0400."
"What is the hour?"
"2027."
"You certify this man is on duty?"
"I do."
"Wake him."
x
A black hand at the end of a blue sleeve comes in from the left of the screen and shoves the slumbering man's shoulder. When the startled man looks up and sees Cassidy, surprise changes to white faced terror.
"Machinist Mate Harold Kingston?"
Kingston's eyes flick between the camera and the spot to its right. "Yes."
"It's now 2028, I'm told you are supposed to be on duty."
"I - I can explain!"
"Are you on duty?"
"Yes. Please! I'm SORRY!"
"Should have thought of that."
Kingston's eyes bulge as a large black pistol at the end of a black leather sleeved arm points to the middle of his forehead.
The explosion is deafening in the metal room. A hole and gush of blood appear in the man's forehead as his body is driven backward, the chair overturns, takes him out of sight.
The image shifts downward, past the overturned chair. Kingston lies on his back, his eyes still wide, terror forever engraved upon his face. The hole in his forehead no longer gushes, his heart stopped instantly, though behind his head a red pool spreads as gravity drains him. His face is charred by hot gas and powder.
"Have the crew take this topside and leave it on the deck until twelve hundred hours tomorrow, then weigh it down with scrap metal and throw it overboard."
The screen goes black.
x
Satisfied with the woman's execution of her duty, Gibbs turns and stops sharply to avoid colliding with L1 Jennifer Shepherd who's standing directly behind him. "What do you want?"
He's annoyed that someone could have approached him so closely without his being aware of it, but he'll show none of this to the five score men and women at their posts, certainly not to the Operative who accomplished it. Is he getting too complacent in his own Headquarters, or has she gotten that good?
Either is cause for concern.
x
Shepherd takes a half step back and brings her fist to her chest, then straight outward with a snap, punching the air before her. "Sir, you ordered me to report to you today at 1330 regarding Inquisitor Two Todd."
He would be happy not to hear that name for a while, but her skill and experience have their value. "Five days already."
"To the hour, sir."
"Return her to duty, her shift will end at 2000 hours. She may resume her regular schedule at Zero hour."
"Sir!"
"When you've released her, report to my office."
"Very good, Grand Inquisitor," she salutes again, about faces and walks to the door. Gibbs' eyes trail her every step.
Has she gotten good?