Starve.Org White Noise Usenet Archive: "New: Voy.: Star Trek Mirror Universe Part 2 Chapter 2 K/T"

Chapter 2

"Good to see you again, captain."
"Same here, Smiley. I trust the supplies have arrived safely?"
"Yes, we got them. Nog is now busy cataloguing them. What happened? We
expected you two days ago."
"I got sidetracked for a while. Gather the others. There will be a
meeting in an hour."
"Will do. What's it about?"
"I thought your name's Smiley, not Nosey."
"Okay, I'll wait till the meeting", O'Brien said smiling.

Torres had been going through the database for the better part of the
day. What she had found there was not very enlightening. All entries
and reports stated that on stardate such and such and on location such
and such, so many terrorists had been killed or captured. About half
way through, she had an idea.

"Computer, cross-reference the sites mentioned in files Alpha 4-0 to
Delta 7-6 with the appropriate star maps. Then cross-reference these
with known population centers, both current and past. All known
military installations are to be removed from this search."

As the computer began to do its assigned task, the half-Klingon leaned
back in her chair, thinking of her parents. Her mother, a proud
warrior who had taken a liking towards a young, proud terrorist her
father had captured. He did everything to escape but always was
caught. He had taken his punishments like a true warrior and the
Klingon female began to desire him even more. The man had laughed at
her when she offered him his freedom if he became her possession, not
an unheard of thing. Her mother had been so insulted, she almost
killed him. But in time, they both began to realize their feelings
towards each other. After a few months, they had fallen into each
other's arms hungrily. It would be the first night of many. The two
young people had fallen deeply in love with each other. Again,
B'Elanna's mother offered him his freedom if he only agreed to become
her possession and again he refused. He hadn't been willing to give up
his cause so he could be with the woman he loved. He was killed in a
revolt of the prisoners when her mother had just found out she was
pregnant. It was something that was not unheard of in that time and
since she was a daughter of one of the great houses, represented on
the High Council, it was accepted. Her mother had trained her harshly,
the better to be able to fight full Klingons who scoffed at those that
were "impure". Torres had learned the lessons well and built her
reputation as a fierce warrior to the point where no one dared
challenge her or call her a half-breed again. She was shaken from her
thoughts by a beeping sound. Looking up, Torres saw that the computer
had finished its search. Slipping into the chair, she began to look
over the information. Almost immediately, the blood drained from her
face as B'Elanna saw that almost all the locations on the screen were
those of settlements, not legitimate military targets. In a shaky
voice, she asked for casualty lists. When the request had been
processed, she felt sick to her stomach. In over a hundred raids in
the last 4 years, no more then 20 Alliance troops had been killed. If
these settlements had indeed been terrorist bases, the resistance
should have been heavier, no matter the surprise of the attack. The
proud half-Klingon felt like crying; everything she had been taught
turned out to be a lie. Her people had been killing innocent, unarmed
men, women and children for years. Torres stared at the blank screen
for what seemed like hours and then stood up, her decision made.

"You want us to what????"

Bashir's indignant voice was, as usual, the loudest there, finding
fault with everything. So too with this latest plan. Kim often found
it tiresome, but then, he couldn't blame the man. Seeing your whole
family being beheaded in front of you as a ten-year-old was not
something to put you in a good mood. Besides, the man was one of his
best fighters, with superb tactical skills. Not to mention the only
one with so much knowledge of medicine. Bashir had spent most of his
youth as a worker in a Bajoran medical facility and had picked up
quite a bit. Kim suspected that Bashir had more than a passing
interest in medicine, whenever he was treating a wounded comrade, his
whole demeanor would change turning from hateful and despising, to one
of intense concentration.

"I can't believe you just want us to cease all attacks on the Alliance
and pack up our things to move to a new location! Our plant has not
signaled us that they have discovered our location."
"I've got to side with Bashir on this one, sir. We just got here; it's
as save as can be for now. Why leave?"
"We're leaving because I said so. Look, what have we been doing for
the past years? Nothing! Absolutely nothing. We've attacked the
Alliance, blew up a few ships, destroyed a few outposts and that's it.
We're nothing more than a small nuisance to them."
"Well, if we're such a small nuisance to them, why do they so bloody
well do their damnedest to destroy us?"
"I'm tired of being just a torn in their side, people. I believe it's
time we showed them that we're more than that. O'Brien, how is the
construction going?"
"Not too well, I'm afraid. We've run out of materials again. And doing
it on that damn rock is very hard; I wish we had some kind of space
dock to do the work."
"Then I think you'll like my next bit of news and see why it's
imperative that we cease all attacks and move from here."

All eyes were now looking expectantly towards Kim, waiting for his
revelation.

"The place we're going to, provided certain people get their act
together and start acting like part of the team, has everything we
need. It's far out of Alliance territory, has plenty of the needed
resources, has no intelligent life. As for a space dock¼. Shakti has
managed to find one in Thallon. As we speak, she's ferrying it to our
new base."
"The Thallonian Empire??? Are you nuts? They are notorious for working
both sides of the fence!"
"So they are. But we didn't buy it", said Kim with a smug expression
on his face.
"Am I correct in assuming that this space dock was acquired by less
overt means", asked Tuvok, his Vulcan demeanor as always inscrutable.
"Correct as always, Tuvok. Shakti raided one of the Thallonian
Empire's graveyards."
"Great! Just what I need; more repairwork."
"Come on, Miles. You know how much you love a challenge", said Dax
smiling as she slapped the engineer on his shoulder.
"Then it's settled people. Start packing, we're leaving in 8 hours."

A groan rose from all present; eight hours was hardly enough time to
pack everything and load it into the ships.

"Dax, I really hate this."
"Hate what, Julian?"
"All this secret stuff Kim has been doing since he took over. He
didn't tell us anything about what mission he sent out half our forces
and now we find out he has sent them to Thallonian space! I'm telling
you, this is infuriating."
"Everything is infuriating to you, handsome. I can understand why he
does it. If there is a spy among us, or someone is captured, they
don't know what his plans are. It's saver that way, you of all people
should understand that."
"I can't believe you're defending him. We were doing fine until Sisko
brought him in!"
"And I'm glad he did, because Kim has shown to be an excellent
strategist and tactician. Among other things¼."

Dax smiled a mysterious smile, making Bashir's blood boil. First
Sisko, now Kim. Dax seemed to like men with power. He was jealous,
extremely so. Every time, he hoped that something would happen to Kim,
that the Alliance would capture him, but every time, Kim managed to
escape. However, Bashir was not planning on placing an anonymous
transmission to the Alliance because he knew his own limitations. No
matter how good Sisko had been, Kim was infinitely better and Bashir
grudgingly acknowledged that. So he bided his time until the war was
over, or one of them died. Without so much as a grunt, he turned on
his heel to supervise the move.

Torres had just finished managing the repairs on a Galor-class
battleship that had been ambushed by a number of rebel Raiders. She
had been busy for 3 long days and all she wanted now was a hot bath
and her bed. However, there was something she had to do first. Sitting
in a corner of the bar whose previous Ferengi owner had been killed
for helping the rebels, she observed the goings on there, as she had
been doing for the past week. She was looking for someone, more
specifically someone who could get a message through. After that day
of research and contemplation, she had reached a decision, probably
the hardest of her life. But she couldn't back out now, not when her
personal honor was at stake, not when so much violence and bloodshed
had occurred in the name of honor. Suddenly, all her concepts of
Klingon honor had come crashing down by the truth she had found in
those files.

Looking around, she saw Cardassians, Bajorans and Klingons raucously
laughing and drinking, while a few scattered humans sat by themselves.
They were the ones who had sold their soul to the Alliance in exchange
for a little freedom, even though they knew that at any given moment,
their masters or the resistance could kill them. Torres was sure of
one thing, though, and that was that one of these humans was a spy for
the resistance. It would make sense for them to have one and surely,
Garak would have suspected it too. She was looking straight at them,
looking in their eyes to see what was there. It was a risk, the
greatest she had ever undertaken. If she spoke to the wrong person,
she'd be arrested and killed before the day was over, no matter how
powerful her family's House was.

There, that one, the one looking around him, a tired look on his face
but his eyes¼. His eyes were alert, taking in everything and everyone
around him. Could he be the one? Was it possible? If she approached
him, and he wasn't, then she had signed her own death warrant. Torres
started to get up, when all hell broke loose. An middle-aged human
male, stooped by years of hard labor in the processing plants and
mines pulled a disruptor from his belt and fired it at the man Torres
was going to talk to, vaporizing him instantly. Almost immediately,
another human, this one, another one of the barely tolerated Alliance
sympathizers, drew his disruptor and killed the old man. In the chaos
that ensued, Torres noticed the second human nod imperceptibly towards
a Vulcan, who also dipped his head slightly. He then walked off,
carrying his load towards the processing area. Torres was stunned by
the events around her and even more so that she had been wrong about
who was the spy here. She decided to move immediately, the chaos
providing cover. She sidled closely to the Alliance troops who where
standing near the vaporized remains of the human; Torres
'accidentally' brushing against the man who had killed the old man,
her hand quickly putting a small paper into his pocket. Then she
looked around the killing field, for all the world just another
spectator in this deadly game. Shortly thereafter, Garak and his
troops arrived, sending everyone away. Torres threw him a dirty look
and Garak coughed slightly, not relishing going near her so soon after
she nearly tore his head off. She breathed a quiet sign of relief as
he let her go without so much as one question about the incident. Now
all she could do was wait until the resistance fighter found the note
and decided if it was worth the risk. It might be a long wait, or she
might get killed if the resistance thought her to be a good enough
target. Torres felt a chill run up her spine as she thought back at
what she had just witnessed. That might very well be her faith in the
near future.