A/N: GASP! Cough, Wheeze!- I'm back! Feel like I've been holding my breath all this time. Happy Easter, everybody!
Okay, I'm gonna jump right into the fray. This is my first study into the Mirror-verse, so I'm carefully testing the waters in this fic. Also, it's most likely McCoy-centric since I'm apparently also studying the character (but don't worry, there's still plenty of action, paranoia, and Spock to hopefully sate y'all's needs). This chapter is a bit short, but I've got a few others already written which are longer, don't fret. :) That all being said I'll quit my rambling and let y'all enjoy the story.
McCoy should've known there would be trouble the instant he heard the name of the planet they were going to.
Hyde's World.
A name like that would always spell doom.
But no, he'd merely joked with Jim about the name and warned him away from any transporters lest he get split in two again. They did not need a repeat of Jekyll-Kirk, Hyde-Kirk.
As it was, the planet itself seemed normal: Class M, Goldilocks temperature, blue sky, green grass… he'd even wriggled his toes in the fine white sand of some beaches.
How did such a pleasant planet get such a dark name? That was beyond even Spock. It had been catalogued as an exoplanet back at the turn of the 21st century, but upon modern-day inspection no one could tell what the scientists back in the day were thinking. Hyde's World was beautiful.
The routine geological surveys continued, but were at the back of everyone's minds. Shore leave was practically expected. Mere moments after the official announcement, crewmembers eagerly lined up in the transporter room to beam down and romp in the grass. McCoy himself went back to the beaches and strolled along the coast, admiring the crystal water and soaring cliffs in the distance. It was like a picture from a fairy tale.
Until the evil part came.
As it turned out, the scientists had not been remiss in naming the planet. The information that had failed to survive the Eugenics Wars, however, concerned the solar system. Hyde's World was truly lovely. But every now and then, the emissions from its sun, warped by its several planets, would whip back and create perfect storm conditions.
Space storm, to be exact. And not the pretty kind.
Shore leave was immediately canceled as all crewmen were recalled to fasten down the ship. McCoy snapped his communicator closed and looked at the sky. Lightning arced across it, despite the absence of clouds. The star's emissions were colliding with the atmosphere, creating the haunting dance of electricity. A moment later the transporter took him away from the ethereal scene.
"What's the scope, Jim?" he asked instantly, rushing off the pad.
"Supercharge from the star," Kirk replied, keeping an eye as more golden forms shimmered into existence. "Got tangled with other emissions and debris and now we've got an all-out squall." The ship suddenly rocked. "According the Chekov," he continued, not missing a beat. "This system is apparently ripe for storm conditions. It's still young, got a mass of planets, several large ones close in… this is where 'Hyde' comes from."
The Enterprise shuddered. At the transporter console, Scotty muttered a Gaelic curse. He sharply activated it and the forms finally coalesced. The woozy crewmen hurriedly stepped off the platform.
McCoy pointed. "Is that thing safe to use?"
"We're trying to get everyone aboard before it gets much worse," Kirk responded. His brow had creased into his 'Captain's look'. "Spock's down below coordinating beam-ups."
McCoy nervously watched as more figures materialized. The ship rocked even more, and he paled to think of what deformations would result from materializing out of whack.
The nerve-racking torture wouldn't go on, though. Communications chirped and Spock's voice filled the room.
"One to beam up, Captain."
Scotty was already on it even before Kirk turned to him. Moments later a figure started shimmering on the platform.
McCoy stretched. "Thank God." The ship rocked again. The figure wavered. "Make sure you keep his ears straight," he joked to Scotty, trying to lighten the mood.
Scotty either didn't hear him, or ignored it. He furiously worked the controls, bent over in concentration. McCoy caught on the moment Kirk voiced their thoughts: "Isn't it taking a little long?"
"Jus' a moment, Cap'n," Scotty tossed. The transporter squealed and the fading form finally started to come together.
Kirk grinned. "Good work, Scotty." He turned around from the console and froze. McCoy, right behind him, also went rigid.
It was the same Starfleet uniform, the same build, the same haircut, the same pointed ears. Anyone could say 'Spock' and they would be right. Except for one key thing.
'Spock' had a beard.
This is the Hyde, McCoy thought.
Let it begin.
Again, Happy Easter y'all!