A/N: First fanfiction uploaded here. Anyways, this is my take on a Mirror Universe where the Terran Empire didn't fall. I changed the characters a little, but you'll have to be the judge of that yourself in later chapters. My intention was to keep most relatively the same, with a sadistic undertone (like our dear Data). I don't know everything about the Mirror Universe so somethings will be different but I'm going to try and stay on track as possible with that the Mirror Universe in the series says (excluding the fall of the Terran Empire). Also, if you want to see anything in the story, or have any side-story suggestions, then please drop me a message and I'll give your idea a shot. Facades is going to be an on going story and I intend to make it as long as possible, until there needs to be a massive time gap in which case I'll make another fanfiction of it.
I hope you enjoy it enough to comment - please don't be abusive, because in all honesty I couldn't care less. Constructive criticism is greatly accepted (I'd also be happy to return to favour and read any fiction you have uploaded).
Have fun
Welcome to the 24th Century, and good luck with that.
After a somewhat glorious defeat for the Terran Empire over the less-hostel, welcoming Romulans, the Imperial Fleet's flag ship and self-proclaimed strongest in the galaxy was ordered to extract any remaining information on the whereabouts of the rest of the Romulan Fleet. Of course, the valiant crew of the I.S.S. Enterprise took this 'extract' term at face-value, and proceeded in obtaining a handful of Romulan Generals who had surrendered themselves to the Terran Empire, acknowledging their inferior vessels were no match for such a warship.
The laboratory was a grim, dark sight, with the lights dimmed to a very minimum, the flashing of the consoles being the only other source of light to the room. At one end was a long metal examination table, modified by the ships science officer to hold some of the most violent species in the galaxy. Right now at it's mercy was Romulan General T'lsak, his hair matted to his forehead from constant sweating and his temples wired to machines with thick, green wires. He tried to control himself, to keep him calm, but he failed miserably and would, occasionally, let out a small whimper.
"If we connect a further two to his frontal lobe we could double the pain delivered to the subject ten-fold." The android punched in a few commands, turning to the Chief Engineer. "Of course, that may or may not kill him."
"Well we've got a few more in the brig to replace him," Geordi faked a sympathetic smile, to which Data grinned.
"Shall I retrieve another, or shall I wait for T'lsak," he spat the Romulan's name with uncharacteristic bitterness of a machine, "to finally tense up and die?"
Geordi laughed at Data; it was a friendly laugh, with a dark undertone, like most of the crew on the Enterprise who constantly believed that, due to their numerous triumphs, they were superior. Geordi, having been born blind, should not have been stood there. He would have been considered a weakness to the Terran Empire, but instead his parents offered him up to a grim experiment, relating to VISORs that could improve visible range to a distinct advantage across the Empire. As a result, the engineer had a thick metallic VISOR grafted over his eyes, fused awfully with the skin on his face, a small scar trailing down his right cheek from the procedure. He didn't mind, because without it, he would be dead.
"The Romulan pain tolerance is very high, but not their capacity for living," Data said, "shall we proceed?"
Geordi adjusted some more variables on the console, nodding at the android. "Go ahead Data."
The android attached two more green lines of wire to the Romulan's head, the Romulan gasping and his back arching upwards. Data was unaffected by this, instead monitoring the computer beside him.
"Heart rate increasing, blood pressure rising…" he paused, turning to the Romulan, "in a few minutes you will feel your blood pressure rise as if it were choking your skin. You will find it difficult to breath, your eyesight may become blurred and the airways restricted. However, this is a normal reaction for a machine of this kind."
"Data, if he can't breathe, how is he supposed to tell us where the Fleet is?" Geordi raised an eyebrow.
Data paused for a minute, his yellow eyes darting back and forth in his 'processing' motion. When coming to a conclusion, he tilted his head, in a dark curiosity.
"Yes, Geordi, I believe you are right." He turned back to the console, enthralled with the Romulan's vital signs. "I did not think of that." He lied.
Geordi only laughed at Data; neither of them made any attempts to release the Romulan or diminish his pain so he could speak, because neither of them, truly, had any intentions of finding out the location of the Romulan Fleet. It didn't matter where they came from, in whatever direction, because the Romulan's were simply no match for even a Terran transport vessel.
Commander Data had effectively killed his specimen before he anticipated, questioning Geordi on whether he should run a self-diagnostic or not. Geordi told him not to, that Romulans were strange creatures, who hid themselves away and seemed very trusting of other creatures. He said they were hard to talk and easy to humiliate, and that their willingness to live was so pathetic it made them an easy enemy. He said that the Romulan probably held his own breath in order to die, and that they could have prevented this if they simply gave into the Terran Empire's demands.
Data found this slightly amusing, though not to the point of laughter, because his programming was never capable of that.
Now, the android Data was created by one Doctor Noonien Soong, who once worked as a scientist for the Terran Empire. After being discharged on medical grounds (many claim Soong was far beyond insanity), he began work on his artificial life forms. His first android was Lore, a kind, gentle creature who was programmed with far too many morals. Although Soong tolerated the android he soon grew tired of the imperfections he had created; from the blueprints of Lore he created many failures, and one success, Data.
Data was given basic emotions, though his programming often could not process many of these. Inside Data was the essence of the man who had created him, a dark, somewhat selfish individual, whose curiosity was not childlike but rather involuntarily sadistic. To the crew, Data was like a child to them, a child that perched himself upon a hill and burnt ants, who was never programmed with any ethics at all. Added to this, he was also known for 'getting what he wants', when he wanted it. He only obtained his rank as Lieutenant Commander after Natasha Yar convinced him Lt. Commander Gomez was a conspirator.
Data had been ordered previously to bring any Romulans who had unfortunately died during their interrogation to Sickbay for Doctor Crusher's examination – who was very efficient at finding deadly, dangerous pathogens rather than actually healing anyone.
"Data to Lt. Yar," Data called after tapping his comm. badge.
"Go ahead,"
"Geordi and I will be arriving at the brig shortly to collect another Romulan for interrogation. Please pre -"
"Shit, Data," Tasha interrupted with a laugh, "how many Romulans are you planning to go through tonight?"
Data grinned, taking it she was implying something. "As many as I desire."
She confirmed his request with another laugh, which caused a rise of chuckles from Geordi LaForge.
"Half the men would killto have your luck with women, Data,"
Data nodded, knowing it was actually true. "It is not 'luck' as such, Geordi, rather good programme and…" he trailed off due to an inability to provide the appropriate phrase in his vast databanks.
"Good alcohol?" Geordi finished for him. "C'mon, Data, you don't believe it was just that, do you?"
"I do not believe you are asking the right person, Geordi. My 'luck' isn't so often as many would believe." He snapped the wires from the Romulan and heaved him, dripping with sweat, onto his shoulders.
"You smart ass." Geordi commented. Data only shot him a grin and proceeded to sick bay.
"Commander Riker, I need to speak with you in the ready room."
The Enterprise bridge was bathed in a blanket of red lights and a slight hint of smoke in the air, even though they had been off red alert for almost an entire day now. It was said Captain's in the Imperial Fleet weren't fond of bright lights on their bridges; after a few years of this rumour they started building ships with dim, eerie lighting across half the decks.
Will followed the Captain to his ready room, standing with his hands clasped behind his back when entering the doors. The Captain took his seat in a more than impressive chair and shook his head at the Commander.
"At ease, Will."
Will Riker, a hulking individual with two tram-line radiation burns over his left eyebrow, was always the first to read the Captain's tone of voice. He took a place at a chair opposite the Captain and leaned back, pulling his sash.
"There isn't a Romulan fleet left, is there?" Will raised his eyebrow, the Captain looked flamboyant.
"Oh, well, you know how it is. We do need some reason to keep our presence in this region of space."
"What reason should we need other than all civilisations have kneeled to the Terran Empire so far?" Will mocked (an irony as it was a true statement) and leaned closer to the table.
"You know the Admiral, always wanting to turn a blind eye to the true nature of our mission. But I didn't bring you here to bastardise the Admiral with me," the Captain took out a pad and pushed it to the Commander, "I regret to announce we have received new orders."
"Really? I was just getting to know the Romulans…" Will chuckled to himself and scanned through the pad. "Ah, I see," he paused, looking up at the Captain. "Who pissed off the Klingons?"
"That information is confidential Number One." The Captain frowned. "However, we are to release the surviving Romulans to the remaining authority on Romulas and our own people at hand down there." Picard stood up and paced to his window, looking out over a mass of starships surrounding the Romulan's home world.
"There aren't many Romulans left in our holding cell…"
Through the reflection in the window Will glimpsed the faintest smirk on his Captain, a dignified man, in a sense that he knew what was best for the Terran Empire. He turned back to Riker, putting the façade back on his face and losing the faint smirk.
"Have all the remaining Romulans executed and set course for the Romulan Outpost, warp factor five."
Will nodded his head with more than a hint of amusement and moved to leave happy today.
"And, Commander," the Captain stopped him, that tiny grin returning to his face, "the I.S.S. Stargazer pissed off the Klingons."
"I'll be sure to transfer Wesley over there as soon as possible and blow the bastards to king -"
"That'll be all Commander." The Captain scolded. He liked Wesley.
The Commander bowed his head slightly in shame, "Aye, sir." He mumbled.
Creativity came in the form of the Enterprise's Agony Booth, customised by Tasha Yar, Geordi LaForge and Data as assign project. Inside the Agony Booth, the Romulan could feel the intensity rise without having to look at Tasha. There was a sharp twinge of pain in his temple, his throat closing from the inside and the feeling that his sinuses were being blocked by something more than a common cold. The pressure caused his nose to bleed profoundly, his eyes swell up like balloons dripping with green down his cheeks but provided no relief. And that was only the first setting.
His muscles spasmed involuntary against the glass, a smear of green from his hand. Pressure increased on his nerves, he doubled over, and the setting was hired once again. Now his blood boiled, his skin burnt on top and turned black until patches burst along his veins. His legs gave up on him when the highest setting was turned up, a combination of burning veins and pinching nerves cascading through his system giving the Agony Booth reason to have its name. The Romulan's face was no longer recognisable after most of its skin had boiled away and he sat in a pool of green. The glass slid open and the Romulan fell out onto Tasha Yar's show, much to her annoyance.
"No vital signs, prepare the final Romulan for -"
"They do look like them, don't they?"
Data blinked. "Like who?"
"The Vulcans. If only they would have submitted themselves to the Empire… it would be like completing a collection." Tasha laughed and kicked the Romulan off her shoe. "Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"
The final Romulan prisoner was a woman, who gave no reply and stood with a sniff posture. Data glanced at her from the console but allowed Tasha to do all the talking, instead resetting the Agony Booth.
"It's only a matter of time before the rest of the Romulans submit to the Empire -"
"We would rather commit mass murder than join the Terran Empire." The Romulan finally broke her silence, causing Tasha's face to contort with sheer disgust.
"We'll see about that… Data!"
Data had moved the dead Romulan onto the examination table beside the rest of his comrades and looked up. He nodded at Tasha and took the Romulan by the arm to the Agony Booth, her protest futile with the android's strength. He seemed like quite the gentlemen as he helped her step up, which Data was at heart, beneath all the programming of a mad scientist.
The most curious thing Data found about the Romulans was that, among all the species that had been subjected to the Agony Booth, the Romulans prevented themselves from screaming. Of course, Data couldn't really comprehend any kind of pain they felt. The Agony Booth would never work on him, though discipline was rarely a problem from Data.
She fell out of the booth like her last Romulan comrade and Data removed her immediately. He security to remove the remaining Romulans to Doctor Crusher's sickbay, to undergo more 'examinations'.
"I expected more punch from the Romulans, you know…" Tasha sighed.
"'Punch', Tasha?"
"Yeah, they didn't put up much of a fight."
"The Romulan Empire suffered massive losses in a Civil War less than two years ago, depleting half of their military supplies and setting them further behind with their technology and causing significant sociological and economical problems across the majority of the Romulan home world systems beyond that inhabited by -"
"I get it, Data," she laughed at him, "I don't understand you. Sometimes you can be so… so… rigid and… boring."
"It is unfortunate my creator did not finish my programming, then perhaps I would not be so 'boring'."
"Whatever happened to old Soong, anyway? You never told me that." She put away some tools and closed the Agony Booth's door, making a mental note to get a clean up crew down later.
"He was murdered by Resistance rebels when he finished the fundamentals of my emotional subroutines. They took Lore with them, although I doubt he will ever be much of a threat." Data smirked – Lore's ethical programming, he observed three years, four months, five days and forty-five minutes ago, was the Achilles' heel of all the Soong androids that had suffered cascade failure. Data wasn't cursed with such a thing.
"I'm sure if we ever run into the Resistance again the Captain'll grant you grounds to personally lead the mission for your father, Data."
Data tilted his head. "Perhaps," he said as a team of security personal came in, Data taking his cue to leave with Tasha tailing him.
"What do you think our orders are this time, Data?" she asked him.
"I do not know, the Commander has no informed any of the crew as of yet."
"Take a wild guess."
Data's brow furrowed, though he didn't ask the significance of what she said. "I would 'guess' we have been called away to deal with the Cardassians or the Bajorans. They have shown their particular dislike for the Empire these past few months."
Tasha jumped ahead of Data into the turbolift and ordered to the bridge, Data stepping calmly behind her.
"Of course it could only be the kind of people who get pissed off when a comet wanders through their system… maybe the Klingons…" she rolled her eyes, Data raised his eyebrow.
"I have observed you swear more frequently than many of the crew members on this ship." He stated. Tasha laughed at him again.
"And I observed you don't."
Data flashed his android smirk briefly and agreed. "Like I said, my programming is incomplete."
"I don't know, you seem fully functional to me…"
Data opened his mouth to say something quite witty for an android with barely any emotions but stopped himself when the turbolift doors shot open to reveal the bridge.
He immediately took his place next to Wesley Crusher (who was known among the crew at Doctor Crusher's irritating son, who suffered a great lack of attention from his abusive father later assassinated by one Captain Picard. Although he did have a peculiar nickname – one eyed Wesley, as he only had one eye due to an 'unfortunate' accident his father inflicted upon him – Wesley never liked that many anyway).
"Mister Data, how long will it take us to reach the Romulan Outpast Kaleh'tan at Warp Factor 7?" Will queried.
"Two hours, twelve minutes, fifty-fiv -"
"Thank you Mister Data." Will rolled his eyes. "Lieutenant, make sure the shields and weapons are fully operational within one hour."
"Aye sir. What kind of fire should we be expecting?"
Will narrowed his eyes. "Klingons."
It was the only reply he needed to give. Data glanced over his shoulder to see Tasha smirking at him from Tactical, his attention only drawn away when the door's to the Captain's ready room swished open.
"Captain on the Bridge," he informed the crew.
"Senior staff report to the briefing lounge."
"Aye sir," Will stood up and tapped his comm. badge, "Geordi, report to the briefing lounge immediately, inform the Doctor."
The outpost shook; its command centre surrounded by furious flames and a bleak atmosphere and burnt skin and dead Romulan scientists. It took fire from the Imperial ships above it, the outpost's foundation's shaking and cracking like nothing Commander Taloak had seen in his career. He shivered, a plasma burn down the side of his face, crawling at the gridline floor to move himself from under the rubble. He managed to free his legs and the outpost shuddered again, beams collapsing behind him in a blaze of spark and smoke.
He tried to communicate with anyone left but the Conn. only responded with background noise and static. In frustration he slammed his fist into the console, which cracked from too much pressure and dust in its crevices. He stumbled through the command centre over his dead friends, dragging a broken ankle behind him with pain and determination. Each step he took the roof cracked some more over his head, the outpost's structure failing against the powerful weapons of the Imperial. He made his way through the black corridors and stumbled through the rubble and destruction, making his way to his own quarters.
Inside nothing had seemed to survive – it was dusted with the smoke of explosions, a splattering of green against the door from one of his security officers. Taloak looked around, looked for something, some sign of life. He heard a whimper from the bed and struggled over to it, a body lay there, half between death and life, plasma burns down her face and arms. He couldn't even say her name, couldn't bare to even see her like this. But it was not her the whimper came from, it was the son under the bed.
"Come out, don't be afraid," he told his son. The boy was smaller than any other Romulan child, his ears longer, his hair thick locks of blond and his eyes bright blue. Taloak placed his hand on the woman's face lay on the bed, her skin smoother than any Romulans, because she wasn't a Romulan – an El-Aurian – whom Taloak found in an escape pod some years ago.
"We won't let them take us…" Taloak stammered, taking out his phaser. He pulled the boy closer to him, who held his ears and buried his face into his father's arm. Taloak placed the phaser at the woman's temple, closing his eyes and pulling the trigger, a surge and shiver dancing through his body at the sound of phaser fire. He didn't want to do it again, but he knew he had to.
His eyes only opened when something massive came bounding through the doors to their quarters, flashlights aimed at his face. He squinted, phaser still held to his own son's temple, because he wouldn't let them take them alive.
"Drop your weapon! I am Captain Worf of the Klingon Warship Gr'oth, you must come with us before the Imperial obliterate your outpost!" a large Klingon bellowed from the door.
"You won't take us alive!" Taloak shouted back.
Worf growled at the Romulan's attitude and, upon noticing the boy was in danger, he came forward and tried to seize the child. Taloak pressed the gun to his son's temple harder, shaking his head.
"You won't!"
"You must leave now! If you will not come then at least let him go!"
"I don't trust Klingons!"
"We have been the only people to come to your aid against the Imperial, the only ones who will risk our lives to help you – how can you not trust us? Your war with the Imperial has left you blind, Romulan!"
Taloak looked confused, the outpost shaking violently once more and a siren sounding throughout the place – a warp core breach. Taloak, in a numb realisation and with some kind of love in his heart, let his son go and pushed him towards Worf. Worf hauled him up with one arm and held him against his shoulder, offering the other hand out to Taloak. Taloak only smiled back at the Klingon, placing the phaser to his head, firing it quickly – an easy death, slumping down with his head beside the El-Aurian.
Worf ran out into the corridor with the boy with him and called for transport when he was finally out of any kind of shielding. As he did, the outpost began to collapse in a smoke of fire and heat, taking with it two of Worf's Klingon officers that beamed down with him and didn't realise the significence of the sirens.
On the bridge of his ship Worf dropped the Romulan half-breed beside his command chair, the boy showing an almost passive face.
"Target the Imperial vessel's reactor! Full spread!" He shouted in his native language to the tactical officer.
"Sir, there is another vessel approaching!"
Worf narrowed his eyes. "What vessel?"
"It's the Enterprise!"