Title: Crossing Into A Shattered Mirror
Summary: James T. Kirk thought he had seen a lot of strange things in his life, but never anything like this. A universe dominated by a Terran Empire, alternate versions of himself and his crew, who are more ruthless and cold than his own. Now they are face to face with these brutal people and they have to work together if they want to save their universes. The Federation will collide with this Empire. Will only one emerge? Or can they work together to save themselves?
Pairings: Spock/Uhura, McCoy/Marcus, Sulu/Chekov, m!Kirk/m!Spock, m!McCoy/m!Chapel, m!Sulu/m!Uhura, m!Scotty/m!Gaila, m!Amanda/m!Sarek
Rating: M
Warnings: Language, non-descriptive adult themes, violence (it's the mirrorverse, what do you expect?)
This chapter takes place in the mirrorverse.
Here's a little history on this mirror verse: (This follows the novel version in The Age of the Empress, with a few changes)
Hoshi Sato took over the Empire as Empress in 2155, after she took over the USS Defiant from Jonathan Archer. Years later, Empress Sato enlists T'Pol as her right-hand and promotes her to Grand Marshal. To continue the "Sato Dynasty," the Empress cloned herself. This clone was named Hoshi Sato II (dubbed Hoshiko). As was becoming customary, Sato II ordered another clone to be created when she took the throne (Hoshimi). T'Pol still serves the Sato Dynasty and is 158 years old (She was 67 when she served on the ISS Enterprise).
In 2246, Empress Sato II was visiting Tarsus IV. It was her presence there that made Governor Kodos release the dangerous spore which destroyed the crops. Kodos had planned on using this devastation to hold the Empress hostage until she agreed to his demands to change the Empire for the better. She was saved by a small rebel group of children, led by James T. Kirk.
James T. Kirk was adopted by Empress Hoshi Sato II in 2246, at the age of thirteen.
Chapter One: Crossing Over
Jim Kirk gave a heavy sigh as he sank onto his bed, a small white towel hanging limply on his shoulders. He lifted the corners of the towel to dry his face, his mind racing over countless forms and signatures of approvals (or denials) that he had gone through that day. He quietly leaned back, his arms linked above his head, his spine letting out the occasional popping sound. It wasn't until his mind finally fell quiet and his body felt somewhat relaxed.
"You don't have to stay up all night you know. You can sleep too." Kirk said off-handily to the other man in the room, who was sitting straight and rigid in a chair at his desk, his eyes trained on the door to the bedroom.
"Negative," said the other man. His voice was crisp; as if he were bent on a mission and he knew the blonde man would attempt to distract him from it. The man's hands shifted almost nervously, almost methodically in his lap, his thumbs gently drawing patterns on the tips of his pointer and middle fingers.
"I do not require sleep for another 8.25 hours. Until then I must stay awake and ensure no harm comes to the Colonel."
"Spock," Jim sighed as the other man spouted his normal logical thinking about having to stay awake. Yes, Jim understood that due to Spock's unique biology he required only roughly four hours of sleep. That gave Jim plenty of time to sleep while Spock stood watch, and then return the favor before they both reported to the bridge. However, for the first time in a very long time, Jim was confident that no one would try to murder him in his sleep.
"You and I both know that I would wake up to the door to my quarters opening. I don't need you to protect me." Jim said, however Spock did not move from his vigilant spot by the entrance to his sleeping quarters. Jim resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. Spock had been like this ever since he was a child and T'Pol had taught Spock the importance of protecting ones trensu, master. It was nice for a while, but now it had grown tiresome. Jim had secured his position as Colonel of the ISS Enterprise for over a year now.
"If you agree to stop with the guarding, I'll let you sleep in my bed." Jim said, almost as if he were bribing a small child with candy. He noticed that Spock's fingers hesitated in their movement, but resumed their meticulous pattern, a bit quicker this time. That meant that Spock was actually considering it.
"Negative, sir." Spock replied before Jim could get his hopes up. Finally giving up, Jim let out a harsh sigh and threw his used towel at the half-Vulcan poised at the end of his bed. He reveled in the surge of dark amusement that rose when Spock jumped as the towel made contact with his hands. That's what Spock deserved if he refused to listen to him.
"Hang that in the bathroom." Jim ordered flippantly as he settled back into his bed, allowing himself to relax fully into the foam pillow and mattress. He felt another spark of amusement as Spock stood dutifully and took his towel to his bathroom. Always so obedient.
"Good night Colonel." Spock said timidly as he returned from the bathroom. It wasn't until Jim gave him a grunt of recognition before he took his seat in the chair at the edge of the bed and focused his attention on the door to the Colonel's quarters.
.x.x.x.x.
"Colonel on the bridge!"
If there was such a thing as a "favorite" part of a day, Jim had to say, this was his. Everyone on the bridge standing and saluting before he even stepped foot on the bridge. It fueled his ego more than he should have allowed. He gave his most charming smile as he made his way across the bridge to his chair. He leaned himself back in the chair carefully, arranging his limbs so that he looked at ease and carefree. It was all about appearances. If he looked a little too relaxed it would encourage any moron planning mutiny to make their move. Even if he didn't think there was a threat on his ship now, it didn't take long for one to form.
"At ease," Jim barked and everyone sank into their seats. Except for Spock. Jim tried to give the half-Vulcan an exasperated look that conveyed his annoyance, but Spock stared back at him with his wide, ignorant looking eyes. He could see the doubt that crossed Spock's mind, that he had incorrectly calculated where he was needed on the bridge. Jim tried very hard not to sigh. He and Spock went through this almost every shift. Spock always felt the need to plant himself next to his chair, playing the part of guard dog a little too well. Jim waved a hand at Spock, hoping that he didn't have to spell out that he wanted Spock to go to his station. After a brief hesitating moment, Spock's eyes lit up when it clicked in his mind and he strode quickly to the tactical station on the left side of the bridge.
"Colonel?"
"Yes Lieutenant Colonel Sulu?" Jim said. He loved saying that. It was the most subtle of ways he could always taunt the Asian man, reminding him that he was just one assassination away from claiming the title of Colonel for himself. As fun as it was to taunt, even Jim knew it was not the wisest of moves. Hikaru Sulu had been a stubborn pain in his ass for years on this ship, but they had fallen into a kind of truce. The man was as cunning as a king cobra, and worthy enough to always be seen as a threat, but Jim had proven that he was always one step ahead. For now, Sulu had seemed to accept Jim as his commanding officer, but Jim wouldn't be the least bit surprised if Sulu managed to kill him.
The subtle taunts weren't helping.
"We are receiving a transmission from Major Uhura." The man said, ignoring the jib. Sulu knew there was no use fighting for command yet. Jim hadn't done anything stupid enough to deserve his death, but it only took a small slip up and Sulu would slice his throat. But for now it was in everyone's best interest if they got along. After all, a crew that was always at odds with one another would not be the wisest thing to have on the flagship of the Empire.
"On screen Mr. Sulu."
On the visual screen an image of a beautiful dark skinned woman appeared. The last time Jim had seen Penda Uhura was a year ago when she was serving as his communications officer. Her hair was still short, but she had allowed her bangs to grow out since then. She had always said nothing irritated her more than someone grabbing a lady's hair in a fight, so she had chopped hers off. Somehow she still managed to look stunning without any hair.
"Colonel Kirk." She greeted with a small nod. She didn't smile at him, but she didn't have that telltale bite in her voice either. Jim took this as a good sign. He grinned at her.
"Major Uhura. Always a pleasure. How is the space station life?" he asked her. Major Uhura always had been a lively woman. After all the wounded crew members she had sent to Sickbay over the years, Jim came to see her as somewhat of a sadist. It was a shame she never seemed interested in him, he would have been more than happy to see her bedroom behavior.
"Boring, sir. There is no real struggle for command here, so nothing of interest ever happens." She said, for once the sheer boredom she felt leaking through her voice. It was true there was never a struggle on a space station. Most space stations and star bases were run by either worthless cowards, or over privileged Generals who were too old to keep fighting for their lives. In Starfleet your goal never was really to run a space station.
"That's unfortunate. Maybe you can come aboard and play with the crew once we dock." He said to her, trying his best to look relaxed. He knew all too well what that woman could do with a knife. To say he didn't shiver at the way her eyes lit up would be a blatant lie. God that woman was terrifying.
"That would be nice Colonel. We are ready for you to dock. Uhura out."
The screen cut out and Uhura's face disappeared, leaving the bridge crew to stare at the large space station. Jim nodded to Mr. Sulu, giving him the silent approval to pull them into range of the space station and dock. Without a word Sulu turned to his station and began navigating them toward the station.
"Colonel," Spock said from his station. Kirk turned lazily to him.
"Yes, Major?"
"I am picking up an unknown signal resonating near the space station." Spock said. Jim could tell from the way his fingers glided across the panel that he was attempting to figure out all the possible things that signal could be.
"Keep an eye on it Mr. Spock, you have the bridge. I expect a report on it when you dock. Mr. Sulu, you will accompany me to the space station, along with Lieutenant Chekov. Did you hear that Mr. Chekov?" Jim said, briefly pressing a button on his chair that linked with his head of security.
"Aye Colonel." The Russian voice of his young, but very dangerous head of security piped over the comm.
"Fantastic. We'll meet you in the transporter room. Kirk out."
.x.x.x.x.
Pavel Chekov hated James T. Kirk.
If you had talked to the fourteen year old Pavel Chekov, he would have insisted that James Kirk was a God among men. In the days of the Imperial Academy, Pavel had heard many things about James Kirk, all of them gave him respect for the man. He had an impressive IQ, was incredibly attractive, and had the backbone of a true leader.
Pavel Chekov had worshipped the ground that he had walked on.
Kirk had humored him for a little while. He allowed Pavel to follow him around like a puppy dog and kiss his ass. Looking back on it with disgust, Pavel realized he could have been the leader of a cult dedicated to Kirk. He had thought he had impressed the older man with his knife skills. After all, he was Russian, and everyone knew the art of killing with knives was born in Russia.
Pavel had made sure to score higher than all the other cadets in his classes, he had been more brutal than necessary in his training exercises, and his tactical prowess had been unmatched for two consecutive years. Back in those days Pavel believed that he had James Kirk were going to be an inseparable team, tearing their way through the ranks until they would one day rule the Empire.
Oh, how naïve Pavel had been. He hadn't even seen the betrayal coming.
It had been during one of their survival classes. They had been divided into two teams. The goal was to incapacitate all members of the opposing team. The instructor had been very clear about not actually wounding or maiming anyone of the opposing team. The punishment would be unbearably painful.
Pavel and Kirk had worked as a fantastic team. A two-man division inside their team that made their way around the field, stunning one cadet after the other. Pavel had been so focused on how they would spend their victory together; he hadn't noticed the enemy cadets sneaking up behind him. He hadn't noticed just how far away Kirk had gotten from him. It took a moment for it to register that they had grabbed him and were dragging him into the underbrush.
After his instincts kicked in, Pavel had quickly taken down two of the cadets, but that did nothing to help him. There were too many of them. He hadn't panicked until he saw one of the cadets - Hendorff he thought it was – level his phaser right in front of his face. It was then that he had called out for Kirk, hoping his teammate would whip around and come to his rescue, and then pick him up and brush the dirt off him as if they were friends.
As if.
Hendorff had just smiled at him.
"You think you're special don't you? That he would protect you at all costs? Sorry kid, you've got a lot to learn. This is a message from the boss himself. 'In the eyes of a Leader, everyone is expendable.'"
And as the realization hit and the tears began to well up behind his eyes, Hendorff had pulled the trigger on his phaser.
As Pavel later found out, it didn't matter that the phaser had been set on stun, a phase shot to your eye no matter the setting could rupture the optical tissue in your eye, leaving you almost blind. And as Pavel stepped into the turbolift, next to a Yeoman whose name he didn't know, the cold knot of hatred he felt in his gut for James Kirk reared its head as out of the corner of his good eye, he saw the Yeoman's look of surprise and the quick way she ducked her head to avoid looking at him.
Pavel had seen what his damaged eye looked like. He couldn't blame the Yeoman for turning away. His damaged eye never actually focused on anything, it just sat in his eye socket, occasionally titling slightly up or down. The tissue had turned a pale grey as if it had been touched by death itself. The only thing that made it truly something to cringe at was the scar tissue around his lid. There were streaks of raised, red scar tissue from where the Doctors had sliced open his skin with laser scalpels to try and save his eye. It had been no use. The second the phaser had been discharged was all it took to damage all the tissue in his eye.
Who would have thought he would look like a war veteran at seventeen?
He sighed as he exited the turbolift, leaving the Yeoman to relax, and entered the Transporter Room. If Lt. Colonel Sulu hadn't been in the room, Pavel wasn't sure he could have resisted the urge to fling a throwing knife in the Colonel's direction. Instead, he took a deep breath, stepped on the transporter pad, and ordered Ensign Kyle to beam the three of them to the space station.
.x.x.x.x.
Lieutenant Uhura was waiting for them.
"Colonel Kirk," she greeted, lifting her arm in a salute. The Colonel returned the gesture, while Lt. Colonel Sulu and Lieutenant Chekov laid their fists over their chests and gave her a slight bow.
"Captain Decker is awaiting you on the bridge sir." Lieutenant Uhura said, exiting the transporter room. Kirk managed to suppress a grin and followed her, Sulu and Chekov right behind him. When they arrived on the bridge, Captain Decker was already standing to greet them.
"Colonel," Decker greeted, his face stony.
"Captain Decker," Kirk replied, an easy grin on his face. "I haven't seen you since the Academy."
Decker gave him a stiff nod. Jim could understand why Decker was angry. They had shared many classes at the Academy, and Decker was definitely a valuable man, not just another body that could barely pass for a security officer. If Jim remembered correctly, Decker had been a top student on the Science track, with a very impressive Command sub-track. He wondered briefly who he had pissed off in order to land him on a space station and as a captain no less. After all, no one ever wanted to be assigned to a star base or a space station. Although Kirk didn't think that Decker had even wanted his own ship. The man had always seemed to want a lab to himself. Oh how people change.
"So, where are the artifacts?" Kirk said. Enough with the pleasantries, he told himself. He honestly tried to be nice to people sometimes, but it never actually got him anywhere.
The ISS Enterprise had received orders to swing by this tiny little space station and pick up a valuable artifact that had been intercepted and removed from a ship that was smuggling goods, and bring the artifact back to Headquarters on Earth. They had received that transmission a month ago.
Apparently the urgency on that grew higher and higher as more freighters were confiscated and more artifacts were found. In the briefing the artifacts had been described as a broken puzzle. It was clear that some of the pieces fit together, but there were so many more that would be needed to complete the entire thing. And who knows how many of the pieces had already crossed the neutral zone?
Kirk followed Decker to the turbolift, Uhura, Sulu and Chekov trailing behind them.
"We have found thirteen pieces so far. Some of them are very large, and others are very small. It was a miracle that we figured out they were all parts of something bigger. Unfortunately we have no idea what this thing is. It's early 22nd century tech. possibly from the rein of the first Empress Sato. I assume that is why our current Empress Sato is ordering for its return?" Decker asked, not really expecting a response.
"I have not spoken with the Empress about why she wants these artifacts. It is not my place to ask her, and neither is it yours." Kirk responded icily. It was true that he didn't know why the Empress wanted these artifacts, as she had not confided in him, which was strange, as she always told him her plans. He was practically her son after all.
After the incident on Tarsus IV with Governor Kodos trying to force the Empress into listening to him (which was comical) and Jim and his band of child rebels had stormed the palace, inadvertently saving the Empress. He tried to explain later to the Empress that he had only been trying to find food for the younger children, he had no idea at the time that the Empress was even on the planet, and otherwise he would have come straight for her.
Most of the day was a mess of random memories, most of which he didn't bother to remember, but he did recall the fear he felt when the officers hand told him he was leaving with a Vulcan woman named T'Pol. T'Pol had had streaks of grey running through her golden brown hair, but her expression was fierce enough to have Jim shivering. He had screamed and kicked so much they had to knock him out. When he woke up he was locked in bio-bed and T'Pol had explained that she was taking him to live with the Empress. Of course Jim hadn't believed that until he saw the Empress herself again, leading him into her Palace in Kyoto.
From that day on he had been her personal soldier, kept from public knowledge of course. He never wanted anyone to say that he had gotten where he was merely because of his relationship with the Empress.
He and Captain Decker stood in silence for the rest of the turbo lift.
.x.x.x.x.
"Fascinating," Spock said breathlessly. He had arrived in lower lab of Space Station Alpha-3 approximately 1.35 minutes ago. After the ship had been successfully docked in the stations port, Spock had received orders to report to the lower lab to inspect a series of artifacts. He was not sure what he had expected to find, but it was not this.
He and Lieutenant Commander Chekov had been assigned the task of finding out just what these artifacts were.
"Based on the design and material," Chekov said, gazing intently at a cube like artifact on one of the tables. "I vould say it's from the mid-twenty first century. Although you vould need an expert to verify, I can only make an educated guess."
Spock's thumbs drew slow circles on the pads on his pointer fingers as he quickly verified the Lieutenant Commanders observations. "There is a 74% chance that Commander Chekov's observations are correct based on the variables that he has provided."
"Thanks for that, Test Tube." Major Uhura sneered in the half-Vulcan's direction. Spock stared at her with wide eyes, lifting his eyebrow slightly. There was a pause.
"I do not understand." Spock said finally, still staring intently at the woman, who let out a sharp laugh. She looked at him, a grin on her mouth, and her eyes dancing wildly with amusement. It made Spock uncomfortable.
"You really are retarded, aren't you? You can't even tell when someone is insulting you!" she said, laughing almost hysterically. Spock noticed that Commander Chekov's lips lifted in a similar grin, chuckling to himself. Lt. Colonel Sulu also let out a huff of a chuckle. Spock did not understand what they found humorous.
"I do not suffer from mental retardation," Spock said somewhat timidly, trying to defend himself, although he was not sure what against. It was that moment, when Major Uhura laughed sharply again, shaking her head at his ignorance that he reached far into the back of his mind where Jim's mind sat quietly, away from his. Spock felt small when he couldn't understand what people said to him. Spock knew he was different. Grand Marshal T'Pol had insisted it was due to his unique biology. Sometimes he did not believe she was correct in her assumption.
Spock groped aimlessly in the back of his mind, but Jim had firmly shut him out. Jim said it was impossible for him to think when his mind mingled with Spock's. Spock's brain had no order, he said. It was like being trapped in Wonderland, nothing was ever as it appeared. Spock didn't know where Wonderland was, but he knew he felt very small when he was by himself. It upset him. He didn't like to be upset. He turned back to the artifacts and focused solely on them. He decided not to acknowledge Major Uhura any further.
His thumbs were moving quickly over the pads of his fingers in a meditative rhythm. He was attempting to block out the sound of her voice while also attempting to calculate an accurate year that the artifacts could have been produced. The task was proving to be difficult. Spock began quietly muttering to himself to drown out her voice.
"Artifacts are made from an unknown mineral. Shapes vary. Purpose of the artifacts is unknown…" Spock continued his muttering, listing every variable and fact he knew about these objects to help his mind form a possible solution. Information was good. He had to put his thoughts in order, to make sense of things. He tried very hard to make sense of things.
.x.x.x.x.
Unproductive.
That was how Colonel James T. Kirk saw this prolonged mission. He had more than happy to simply order Captain Decker to pack up the artifacts and turn them over to the Enterprise, but Spock had insisted that the pieces of the mysterious artifact not be moved until more information had been obtained about them. Spock confided to him quietly about wanting to stay on the space station to work on the artifacts as a project.
Normally Jim wouldn't have indulged Spock. He rarely gave into the half-Vulcan. Jim had learned very early on that Spock managed to pull at heart strings that he didn't know he had, and so he had made it a point not to give into any of the hybrid's pleading. Unless it actually served a purpose, then he would keep silent for as long as he could just to watch Spock squirm anxiously.
He was all but ready to tell Spock that he could play with his new toy when they returned to Terra, he would have preferred it that way. He knew that Decker didn't like him one bit and staying here longer gave Decker more time to do something stupid.
But when Chekov had also expressed concern over moving the artifact, his hand was forced as it wasn't just selfish Vulcan pleading at that point.
Jim knew that Spock didn't always have a logical reasoning for the things he did, in fact understanding anything that happened in Spock's head was a challenge all in itself. But this time Spock was being logical, and if not for the Russian Navigator, Jim would have simply ignored it like he always does.
"Colonel," the navigator had spoken very promptly as he interrupted what Spock had to say to Jim about the artifacts. "If I may, the Lieutenant has a point. Ve don't know what zese are, and ve don't know how they are activated. Ve could be bringing a bomb right onto ze Enterprise."
It was only because Jim had been tired of arguing about the issue, that he had spared Chekov from the agony booth.
"Fine." He had snapped at both of them. "We'll stay here until we can know for sure if moving them will cause any danger to the Enterprise. Mr. Sulu, I want this entire section locked down. Only approved officerwill be allowed through." Jim said to his First Officer, who nodded swiftly and began laying in the proper protocol to the mainframe.
Jim began to rattle off those who were allowed access to the lab and specific identification protocol he wanted initiated for those trying to get into the lab. Complete bio-scans and assigned clearance. Jim was not looking forward to calling in the decision to the Empress. He wasn't one to ignore orders, but he wasn't about to put his ship at risk. He hoped she understood that.
.x.x.x.x.
Jim sat impatiently at his comm.
He had left Sulu in charge of Spock and Chekov on the station and had returned to the ship. He was currently waiting for his transmission to be answered. Jim hadn't talked to the Empress in months unless it was a simply written message relaying messages. He almost felt bad about going so long without seeing her.
As he waited, Jim thought back to the day that he had met Empress Hoshi Sato II.
It had been during the Tarsus IV crisis. He had led an ambush on Governor Kudos's mansion to retrieve food for his small tribe of children. They had been half starved and delirious. Jim hadn't even seen the Empress until he had taken out three guards. He remembered the look on her face oh so well.
Her eyes had been wide and her jaw slack. She had been lounging in a less than comfortable seat, at a table filled with plates of food. If he hadn't been scared into shock by the Empress' appearance, he would have been hoarding food from the table like the others. When the moment had passed, the Empress had a pleased smile on her face.
"My hero," she had said, the laugh all too evident in her voice. Then Jim had opened his mouth and unleashed a torrent of incomprehensible babble.
("I'm so sorry..would have saved you first…so hungry…they're dying…")
And at the weakest moment in Jim's life, this woman who was supposed to be tyrant, a being capable of feeling nothing, had wrapped her arms around Jim and had let him cry all over her gown. To this day he still felt a little embarrassed by that.
"Hello Jim."
Jim jumped and looked to his view screen. He was not expecting to see an older Vulcan woman. He nodded his head to her.
"Grand Marshal T'Pol," he greeted formally. T'Pol arched a delicate eyebrow at the formality, but did not comment.
"What do you require?"
"I request to speak with the Empress regarding the artifacts."
"She has already told you your mission. She will not reveal any more details."
"My apologies Grand Marshal, but I cannot move them."
"Why?" T'Pol's voice was hard. She may have been a Vulcan, and she may have helped raise him, but the woman did not deal with bullshit. For a moment Jim thought she might be able to reach through the comm. screen and slap him behind the ear like she had done when he was a child. He suppressed a shiver.
"Spock believes if the artifacts are moved it could prove hazardous to the Enterprise. He is requesting time to further study them." It wasn't a lie. Ok, he shouldn't have just hurled Spock under the bus like that, but what the hell. T'Pol had always had a soft spot for Spock anyway. Even if he were punished, he wouldn't bleed.
There was a pause.
"How much time?" T'Pol finally asked, her lips pursed.
I knew it. Jim thought briefly patting himself on the back.
"Unclear," Jim said. "I can keep you updated as Spock works, you know him once he starts, but as of right now, I can't even give you an estimate." Now that was all truth. If you could hand Spock an equation with only one variable, it was very likely that Spock could solve it within minutes. Hell, if it hadn't been for Spock, Jim wouldn't have been able to cheat the Kobiyashi Maru. That was the first time Jim had ever seen Spock's brain completely dedicated to a problem, but damn had he finished it quick. It was no wonder that Jim had enlisted him as his Tactical Officer.
T'Pol sighed heavily, and when she looked at him, he didn't see a woman to be feared, but a woman who was beaten down. It was then he noticed the slim streaks of copper that had always gave her a wise and exotic look had gotten even slimmer, paling rapidly into silver. The crease in her brow was as deep as the bags under her eyes. How the hell did he not notice it until now?
"Jim, I do not know why the Empress wants those artifacts, but she wants them. Soon." T'Pol held up her hand as Jim opened his mouth. He sighed and closed it. No room for discussion then. "Jim, something is happening here. I'm not sure what it is. Perhaps it is merely another power struggle," T'Pol grimaced. "But it is unsettling."
"Hoshimi?" Jim asked. T'Pol gave a solemn nod.
"She is eager for the throne," T'Pol said. "But the Empress refuses to step down. She does not believe Hoshimi is ready."
Hoshimi was the third Sato clone in the Sato Dynasty. Hoshi Sato I declared that when a Sato took the throne, she would create a clone (made from the DNA of the first), so that incase of her unlikely demise, there would be a successor.
Hoshiko, who was called Hoshi Sato II after she took the throne, hadn't created a full grown replica, but had a cloned embryo created instead. This embryo was raised as Hoshimi, the one to take the throne after Hoshiko died.
The first time they had met, Jim had only been in the Kyoto Palace for a week, and he had been told he was to take private classes with the Princess Hoshimi. 'Preparation for ascension to the throne' T'Pol had said. At the time, he had no idea he was being trained to lead an Empire, but Hoshimi did. The first time they met face to face she had slapped him so hard his lip had split. She had stuck her nose up at him and stormed away, declaring she would not associate herself with a common 'farm peasant.'
If Jim could go back in time, he would go back to that moment and tell his younger self "Hey don't worry, in two years from now, farm peasant or not, she'll be begging you to fuck her brains out every chance she gets."
Ah, being a horny teenager in that Palace had been fantastic.
But all vulgar jokes aside, Jim had seen many times firsthand what Hoshimi was like when she was angry. The first time he had made a joke about them being just fuck buddies she had tried to smother him with a pillow.
"You know, one day I'm going to be the Queen of an entire Empire!" she had snapped at him once she removed the pillow and allowed him to breath. As he had laid there gasping in air, the black edges at his vision slowly receding, he had only thought what the fuck did I get myself into?
"And you," Hoshimi had cooed at him, a complete change from the psychotic sociopath who had just tried to smother him with a damn pillow. "Can either be just another conquest, or you can be my King."
That was when Jim had finally declared he wasn't listening to his dick anymore.
Nevertheless, he had played her game, swearing his allegiance to her as she rode him, or calling her 'My Queen' when he came. He knew she had no plans of sharing a throne with him, just as he had no plans to share with her.
"What can I do?" he finally asked T'Pol. She looked at him long and hard for only a moment, then shook her head.
"There is nothing for you to do. We will wait. They have had their fights before. I have heard it is common for mother's to fight with their children. Especially the daughters."
Jim shivered at that word. Mother. It brought so many feelings with it, Jim wasn't sure what to do with them.
"I will give you two days," T'Pol said, interrupting his thoughts. "After that, I will require a detailed report and a formal request for more time if you feel you need it."
Jim nodded. "Thank you T'Pol."
She nodded back. "Get back to your men. I would not trust Captain Decker with them."
"By the way," Jim question curiously. "What did he do to get himself assigned to a space station out in the middle of nowhere?"
T'Pol arched her eyebrow at him again. "He was caught having inappropriate relations with Princess Hoshimi. As a punishment, more to Hoshimi than to Mr. Decker, he was promoted to Captain and transferred to Space Station Alpha-3."
Jim bit back a chuckle. "Oh."
"Indeed." T'Pol agreed, lifting her hand in a common Vulcan gesture. "Live long and prosper."
Jim returned the gesture as best he could. He could never quite get his pinky finger to stay next to his ring finger. "You too T'Pol."
And the transmission was cut. Time to see if Spock had made any progress.
.x.x.x.x.
Spock didn't think he was stupid.
He had scored highest in his class in every one of his Academy classes, he had assisted Colonel Kirk in hacking the Kobiyashi Maru, and he could predict variables and produce theories in record timing. He was not stupid.
However, he deduced that Major Uhura thought his intelligence lacked. Somehow, he had not provided her with sufficient evidence of his intelligence, despite reporting all new theories and information about the artifacts. She gave him the exact same look each time, it was exacerbated and irritated. She accepted his reports and shooed him away. If he did not move after 2.3 seconds, she would snap at him and order him away.
She thought he was not intelligent.
Jim had reassured him on several occasions that he was not stupid, but very intelligent. Spock did not understand why Major Uhura thought he was stupid. He huffed silently to himself at the illogic of humans as the Colonel walked in.
"Ok kids. What have we learned?" the Colonel asked briskly. Major Uhura spoke up.
"Lieutenant Spock and Commander Chekov have gathered basic data on what the artifacts could be related to. Here's the report."
Colonel Kirk took the outstretched PADD and made his way to the large table where the artifacts were laid out, Spock and Commander Chekov working their way around the table.
"Ok Spock," the Colonel addressed him, his eyes focused on the slim PADD. "What do we have here?"
"There is an 84% chance that the artifacts are made from a mineral called Amphillicite, a rare earth element that has an atomic weight of-"
"Amphillicite? Never heard of it." Kirk interrupted. Spock felt an irritated nudge in his mind, as if the Colonel were telling him to skip the technical information. Spock understood.
"Amphillicite was a rare element in the 21st century. By the 22nd century it was extinct. No other sources report Amphillicite being produced since then. This tells us an estimate of when the artifacts were created. The probability of Amphillicite being produced naturally is 0.02% this implies that the amount of mineral that was used to create these artifacts was manmade. This eliminates many variables. Commander Chekov is currently searching for high usage in Terra's history."
"Well, Mr. Chekov?"
"The production of artificial Amphillicite spiked in 2098, and the production ended in and use of Amphillicite was banned in 2133, 35 years after the spike. All other information related to the production and the banning of the mineral are all locked and marked as classified."
"Interesting." Kirk pondered to himself as he thought about the mysterious mineral. A mineral that was mass produced and banned in 35 years? "It must have been a dangerous mineral if it was only used for that short amount of time."
"Based on the elemental structure and atomic weight," Spock spoke up. "I do not believe so. It is not radioactive, nor does it hold any poisonous trace elements. There is no obvious reason why this mineral would be banned." Spock huffed finally, showing his irritation. As Mr. Chekov had previously stated, all major information about the mineral had been locked. Spock did not have enough variables to form a reliable hypothesis. He tried to relay his feelings to the Colonel, but he got no acknowledgement of it.
"Mr. Spock, compare Amphillicite to all other rare Terrain elements used between 2098 and 2133 and inform me of what they were used for."
Spock immediately turned to a touch screen computer placed next to the table. His finger began to dance across the sensitive surface looking for anything that was similar. More variables, he needed more variables.
"Colonel," Major Uhura spoke. "I've studied the shapes of these artifacts, and it's almost as if they are a message. Some of the pieces when you put them together," as an example she slid a small piece about the size of a PADD next to a larger piece twice the size. "The markings on them seemed to line up."
"This specific one," Uhura continued. "Looks to be Andorian from this angle. But if you turn it like this," she said, turning it to the left. "Then it resembles Romulan. It's the same with everyone of the pieces that match up with each other. It's supposed to build something. I can't tell if it's a message or it they are instructions on how to build it. It's a jumbled linguistic mess."
"Any idea on what someone would want to build using Amphillicite?" the Colonel asked, his eyes trained intently on the words that were forged on the sides of the smooth metal.
"Amphillicite is similar to two elements in atomic structure and weight, but only one of those two were used in our timeframe." Spock spoke, his thumbs rhythmically tapping his fingers. "That element was used mainly in the growing Terrain military against the rebel Vulcans of the time period. At the time, there were many military projects that were focused on time travel. Flourentite, the element that shares properties with Amphillicite, was mainly used on time travel projects."
"Wait, Amphillicite could have been used for time travel? This could be a time machine?!" Chekov nearly yelled. His eyes were bright with excitement. "That would explain why so much is classified."
"Well, how high clearance are we talking here?" Sulu said. "I mean, we have a Colonel's clearance. If that isn't enough, what is?"
"If the clearance is too high, I wasn't here." Major Uhura piped up, her hands still playing with artifact pieces. Sulu gave her a small smile while the Colonel snorted.
"It's Grand Admiral clearance," Chekov said, his voice dying in his throat. "This might be getting serious."
"Can you hack it?" Colonel Kirk asked suddenly, looking at Chekov. The younger man spluttered for a moment before answered.
"You want me to hack into a Grand Admiral's-"
"Fine. Spock, hack into a Grand Admiral's mainframe and hack the files on Amphillicite."
"I can do it!" Chekov snarled as Spock turned to his computer. After fixing Kirk with a glare that could kill, he whipped back around to face his touch screen desk and began to hack into the mainframe. He tried to ignore that his fingers were shaking with rage. He hated Kirk, and he hated that damn number crunching, mutant Vulcan. It wasn't just Kirk. Kirk he learned to live with. But that Vulcan, or half-Vulcan as it were?
He thinks he isn't inferior just because he is half-human, Chekov thought bitterly to himself. But he's wrong. He's just as worthless as a full-blooded Vulcan. They are not Terrain, and so they are lesser beings. How dare that pointy-eared little shi-
Oh let's just face it, a voice in his head piped up. It irritatingly enough sounded exactly like Kirk. He can run numbers through that Vulcan brain of his and think of ten different theories before you think of one. He pisses you off because you know you are inferior to him.
Chekov paused and took a deep breath. He swore to himself at that moment, if he didn't get court marshaled for this, he was going straight to Doctor Chapel and requesting she put him in for psychological help. Even he knew that hearing voices in your head wasn't a good sign. Especially if the voices sounded like the person you hated the most.
"Don't worry Chekov," the real Colonel Kirk spoke. "We're in a space station. We'll just blame it on Decker or something. It's a whole station of scapegoats." He said grinning to himself.
I'm sure, you bastard. Everyone is expendable to you aren't they?
Chekov nodded and continued to work his way through the mainframe until he successfully pulled up the Amphillicite files. He almost wasn't going to forward a copy to Spock's temporary station, but he decided being shoved in an Agony Booth for upward of two hours wasn't worth his moment of spite.
He wordlessly transferred the files. He glared hard at the back of the Vulcan's head as he hurriedly opened the files, slowly turning each line into a variable, creating a new strain of theories with each variable. The knot of hate in his stomach grew.
"Colonel, Captain Decker is requesting to speak with you. He says its urgent." Major Uhura said, her comm. piece in her ear. The Colonel nodded at her.
"When I come back, I want to know what this thing is." Kirk said sharply, turning on his heel and exiting the lab. He didn't wait for a response.
.x.x.x.x.
