A/N: Here it is, the start of my latest STO fanfic! And, if you ask me, one of my best ideas. For once I won't be using the services of my friends Kretolus and DrZevil, although I will still thank them for their input and comments :D feel free to comment on the story, I love to hear what you folks think! Enjoy!

Lydana sighed and picked up the PADD her sister had brought, looking over it more as a distraction than anything else.

Until suddenly, she read something that made her sit upright.

She read it again, to make sure she wasn't mistaken.

"Shit," she said softly, then slammed the PADD down and hurriedly typed some instructions into her desk terminal, ordering her office's security systems deactivated as she did. Once that was finished she stood up quickly, slipping the PADD into her jacket, and heading towards the door.

"Computer, execute Damnation Protocol, authorisation Alpha-Six-Six-Six-Omega."

As the door hissed open to let her out, Lydana vanished in a haze of teleporter energy, as all of the technology in her office overloaded and exploded violently.

Almost no-one noticed Lydana's personal Yellowstone-class runabout departing, mainly thanks to sensor-scattering fields Lydana herself activated, but it soon disappeared entirely as it rendezvoused with the Shadow of Bajor. The cloaked Intelligence vessel had appeared in the system completely undetected, and stayed under cloak as it circled Earth Spacedock.

"Admiral Kassai, welcome back."

Lydana smiled at a familiar face, though not the one she was used to seeing as she stepped off the runabout.

"I should say the same to you, Olan," she told the cadaverous Betazoid, her first officer from the Banshee. "Glad to see they promoted you at last," she said, gesturing to his fourth rank pip, "but I'm curious why-"

"Why I came to serve under you again, as opposed to taking my own command?" Lydana nodded, smirking. "Well, I saw you needed a new First Officer after Ms. Flores was reassigned, and I remembered that we worked well together...but also, I'm aware of some of the things going on around you, and figured you could use someone to help you navigate the difficulties you face."

Lydana chuckled as the tall man fell into step alongside her, his long stride easily matching her hurried pace.

"If there's any navigating being done, we'll leave it to Ryan, but I'm certainly glad to have you with me," she said with a smile, then sobered. "So, what's the update?"

"We already received a copy of Tal'Mera's report, we'll be leaving for Qo'nos as soon as our 'passenger' departs," he told her. "Your prisoner is in the brig, after a successful surgery, and my objection to you keeping her has been kept out of the ship's record for your sake."

"Thanks Olan," Lydana said, not looking at him. "I know you object, but she's too useful an asset."

"Just make sure this 'asset' doesn't end up making us all regret your decision, and I won't need to worry."

"Will do. Is Sickbay expecting me?"

Olan nodded.

"The CMO has looked over all the necessary surgeries, and she's pretty confident you'll pass undetected."

"Pretty confident?" Lydana asked. "I'm going into hostile territory here, Olan, I need better than pretty confident."

Olan caught her shoulder, stopping her march down the corridors and turning her to face him.

"Lydana, no medical officer has attempted a cosmetic alteration as drastic as this before, and not on a Bajoran," he explained, keeping his voice low. "There is no way to be absolutely certain that this will work, or that you won't be left with lasting damage from the surgeries. So just...try and be careful, okay?"

Lydana stared into Olan's pitch-black irises for a moment, then nodded.

"Of course I will," she said, giving him a playful jab in the ribs before resuming her march. "This is me here, I'm always careful."

Olan scowled at her back for a moment, muttering under his breath.

"That's what I'm afraid of."

It was two hours later when Lydana woke up in sickbay, a red-furred Caitian in the uniform of Starfleet's medical service helping her sit.

"How are you feeling, Admiral?" she purred, and Lydana squinted as she forced her eyesight to focus.

"Sore...all over," she groaned. "Like I've been worked over by a couple of Jem'Hadar. And Hirogen. And maybe a Gorn."

The Caitian doctor gave out a soft, hissing laugh, and pressed a hypospray against Lydana's neck.

"This should help with the pain, but some of your muscles might still feel a bit stiff," she explained. "This was...an intense procedure. But, if I may say so myself, it went rather well."

"I'll take your word for it, doctor," Lydana said with a wince, wondering if it was her imagination or if her ribs actually just creaked. "Where's-"

At that moment Olan walked in, carrying a small bundle of leather and metal.

"Some clothes, to help you look the part," he said with a smile, leaving them next to her on the bed.

Lydana took a moment to look through the items of clothing, then looked back at Olan.

"Are you sure this is all of it? You didn't miss a few pieces, by any chance?"

Olan frowned.

"Um...no, that's definitely all of the outfit."

Lydana didn't reply, instead just holding up an item that looked like it was little more than a metal ladies' undergarment.

"Really? An entire database to choose from, and this is what you went with?"

Olan shrugged bashfully.

"It's standard Orion female attire, even for those serving within the KDF," he told her apologetically.

"Well...fine," Lydana mumbled, hopping down from the bed and pulling her surgical gown off. "Make sure everything is ready. I want to get our guest off and be out of the system quick and smooth. Got it?"

"Got it," Olan answered with a quick nod, before leaving to carry out her instructions.

Lydana glared at her new clothes, scoffed in disgust, and began to get changed.

Moments later she was clad in her new attire - what there was of it - and walking down the corridors to the brig, where her special prisoner was waiting. As she walked, she tried to perfect the sultry, cocky swagger she had seen in Orion women, but it was difficult in the chunky, heavy, spiked metal boots she now wore. She wore a pair of thick, layered guards made of Targ leather over her forearms, a pale gold metal mesh over her right upper arm, and she was thankful Olan had stuck with giving her a leather skirt too.

But the top…

The top was almost non-existent. It really was just a ladies' undergarment of dark red metal trimmed in gold, except it revealed more of Lydana's breasts than her own underwear actually did, attached to a similarly-styled collar that Lydana had yet to form an opinion on. The only part of her new outfit she was grateful for was the layered armour that ran down her spine, prevalent among the entirety of the KDF. It was precious little protection, given the rest of her dress, but at least it was protection.

She looked up momentarily, and realised that her internal complaining had passed the time it took for her to reach the brig, and she mentally prepared herself for the meeting she was about to have. People from the so-called 'Mirror Universe' were generally not pleasant at the best of times, but given her current look...it was likely to be so much worse.

She entered the darkened room, gesturing for the security team to leave as she stepped up to the cell containing the Shadow's only prisoner.

"Wakey wakey," Lydana said firmly, tapping on the frame that housed the security forcefield.

The cell's occupant stirred into wakefulness, instinctively shielding her eyes in case the lights were too bright. As soon as she realised they were actually lower than normal, she dropped her hand again and stood up, glaring at the woman who woke her.

"Do I know-"

She cut herself off as she stepped closer to Lydana, finally recognising her, and she burst out laughing.

"By the Prophets, it's you!" she exclaimed. "I genuinely was not expecting such a good laugh today, but..here you are. And why are you here, exactly?"

Lydana gestured with the PADD she had been carrying, meeting her twin's eyes.

"I was recently sent a request to work alongside the Terran Task Force," she explained slowly, "but unfortunately, I'm needed for some undercover work on behalf of Intelligence. So, I figured, since you are from the mirror universe yourself...you could go in my place. You'd be quite an asset to the TTF, I think."

She tapped a command into the console on the wall, deactivating the forcefield and tossing the PADD at her twin's feet.

The other Lydana bent down slowly, wary of any sudden movement, and picked the PADD up from the floor. She began to look over the information, before looking back at her double.

"Undercover? Somewhere in Klingon territory, I'm assuming."

"Not hard to figure out."

"Well, it explains why you're dressed like an Orion slave girl."

Lydana looked down at herself, hands trying to cover her very exposed midsection.

"Yeah I know, I feel almost naked," she said, almost in wonder.

"You almost are," her twin answered instantly, slowly stepping towards Lydana. "Why are you bringing this to me? What's the catch?"

"First of all, you came here trying to take over my successes because of the life you led on the other side. This is a chance for you to earn your own success, make your own name."

"Mhm. And?"

"I have another mission for you that would be easier to carry out as part of the TTF, with their resources and the likelihood of finding a portal to your own universe - cross over, find a target, destroy it."

Lydana's mirror self was an inch away now, her face distressingly close to her own.

"Riiiight. And what if I don't do what you want?" Her voice was a sultry half-whisper, her every breath teasing over Lydana's cheeks. "What if I just take those resources and...do my own thing?"

Lydana simply cocked her to one side, still holding her twin's gaze.

"Then you will live just long enough to witness whatever you're standing on get blown apart."

Her twin's eyes sparkled maliciously at that, as if she approved of Lydana's response. She took a deep breath, but when she responded it was not with a reply.

"You know," she began, in that same, sultry tone, "with you now looking...like this, I could almost believe you weren't me." She rested a hand on Lydana's shoulder, slowly trailing her fingers down the metal strap of her top. "As I understand it, some time ago Intendant Kira was quite taken with her own twin from this universe. I can certainly see the attraction. There's something so...deliciously forbidden about it, don't you think?"

She pressed forwards in an attempt to kiss Lydana, but the Admiral swatted her twin's hand away with one hand and punched her in the throat with the other, before kicking her in the chest and knocking her back against the cell wall. Before the mirror Bajoran could recover, Lydana was in front of her, fingers curling around her throat and slamming her against the wall again.

"You listen to me, you little shit," Lydana hissed, her voice dangerous, "I am not interested in you or your perversions, I just want you to go and do what you do best and blow something up! Now are you going to comply, or am I going to shove you out the nearest airlock?"

Her twin just laughed breathlessly, not even struggling against Lydana's grip.

"Are you sure we aren't actual twins?" she rasped. "Because right now...you are acting very much like one of us."

Lydana growled, squeezing a bit tighter before finally letting go, turning her back on her twin but remaining silent.

"I mean," Lydana's double continued, "that where I come from, that's not an attack...that's foreplay." She started to laugh again, but descended into a fit of coughing instead.

"I'm still waiting on an answer," Lydana said tersely.

"Yes, fine," the 'twin' said. "I'll play your little game for now. What are these other, secret orders?"

Lydana turned around and grabbed her double's right arm, raising it so she could see the subtle scarring two inches above her wrist.

"You've been implanted with a prototype data storage device," she said. "It's undetectable by modern medical sensors and tricorders, and it's time-activated - after a certain amount of time has passed, your orders will be uploaded directly into your nervous system and from there straight into your brain."

"Impressive," her double said, still massaging her throat. "But I do have to wonder - exactly how do you plan to make sure I do your bidding, from the other side of the galaxy?"

"Oh no, you're right! How could I forget?! My plan is ruined!"

The mirror Lydana glared at the other, as her own words were parroted back to her in an equally mocking tone.

"You forget that I work for Starfleet Intelligence," Lydana continued, "I have spent a considerable amount of time building a network of operatives, agents and allies everywhere. You couldn't take a piss in a Delta quadrant backwater without me knowing about it."

"Whatever turns you on, my d-"

She was cut off as a pair of tight, heavy cuffs were slapped onto her wrists, and Lydana roughly shoved her towards the door.

"Less talking, more walking," Lydana told her prisoner, "I wouldn't want you to be late for your transport."

Mirror Lydana growled to herself, but realised that her best chance of freedom was compliance, and so she allowed herself to be escorted to the shuttle bay.

After being unceremoniously bundled into a runabout along with a squad of armed guards, Lydana's mirror double was transported to another Scryer-class ship, the Quinzel, commanded by Jicsi Vex, an acquaintance of Lydana's. When being escorted to the Quinzel's brig, however, she was masked to avoid her face being seen by any of the ship's crew, thus avoiding confusion and alarm.

From Earth Spacedock, the Quinzel flew at high warp to the Alpha quadrant, home of Deep Space Nine, the wormhole to the Gamma quadrant, and more pertinently, the Badlands - an area of intense gravimetric storms that spanned several lightyears in each direction, and was currently the site of repeated attempted incursions by the Terran Empire of the mirror universe.

Just inside the boundary of the Badlands, on the side closest to DS9, a shielded area had been created that served as a staging area for the forces of the Terran Task Force. Mirror Lydana was escorted to the transporter pad this time, and beamed over to the USS Malinche, where TTF operations were planned and organised. At long last she was unmasked and released from her cuffs, and she stood staring at the broad, towering form of Commander Mesi Achebe, a woman whose expression said she was as annoyed about this arrangement as Mirror Lydana herself was.

"Miss Kassai," she said, her deep voice dripping with disgust. "I have been made aware of the...arrangement between yourself and the Admiral, and I must say that I am deeply unhappy about it."

"Really? And here I was thinking this was going to be a sunny walk in the park for all involved."

Lydana snarled in pain as one of Achebe's guards hit her in the back of the knees with his rifle, and Achebe leaned down close to her face.

"Understand, madam, that while we are both unhappy about this state of affairs, I am not your friend," she growled. "You come from a universe that is built upon lies and deception, suffering and pain. We have dealt with similar with the Romulan Empire of old, and the Tal Shiar now. If you even consider deviating from the orders you receive, I will shoot you myself. Do I make myself clear?"

"All these threats I keep receiving," Lydana laughed, "I don't know whether to be offended or homesick."

"Your jokes and sarcasm will not serve you here," Achebe stated firmly. "We will place you in your own quarters, where you will stay until we summon you. Understand?"

"My sarcasm serves me everywhere," Lydana answered with a grin, "but yes, fine, whatever. You have to know you cannot keep me under lock and key forever."

Achebe leaned in close, her face impassive.

"Only until I can shove you head-first out an airlock," she said quietly, before straightening up and nodding to an aide.

Lydana was promptly hauled back to her feet, and escorted quickly to her temporary quarters at phaser-point, and left there until she was required once more.