The place was a floating prison.

But, it was called a research center. But research was not quite the right word. Observational Prison was better, if only slightly. At the moment, there were only two prisoners held here. And the young Cardassian guard standing alone in the hallway was terrified of the first one.

He looked again into the cell. She was just sitting there in the dark, legs folded, head bowed, as if in prayer. What was wrong with her? As he was looking at her, she leaned forward, her face coming into the light. She was grinning.

The guard nearly jumped when she did so.

What was wrong with him?

She was just a small woman. A Trill, actually. What damage could she do?

"Hey!" a voice called out.

This time, the guard did actually jump. It was just another guard, approaching him.

"Damar wants to see the prisoner in the interrogation room," the second guard said.

"Okay," the first one responded. He drew in a deep breath, preparing to move Ezri Tigan.

The room was a place of death.

Ezri knew that the very moment she entered the room. It was dark, dank and there was a certain smell, a smell that implied that something nasty had happened in that room. And continued to happen. The maintenance staff had done a valiant job of trying to get the smell out of the room, but it was in vain.

That smell could never be gotten rid of.

"Start at the beginning," Damar said from across the large, gray table between the two of them. The only thing on the table was a small computer screen. He had emerged from the darkness in one corner of the room. Ezri hadn't even seen a door on that side. "How did you get involved in the plot to murder the Intendant?"

"I was never involved in the plot," Ezri said, perhaps a little too quickly. She wished she had something to fiddle with. Her hands wanted something to fiddle with.

"I know when you're lying, scum," Damar said, cunningly. Ezri was fairly certain that he couldn't even tell when the Intendant was lying. And that was pretty easy.

"Well," Ezri began, "I was involved in the transfer of the weapon, but that's all. The plot was devised by the Romulans. If you hadn't noticed, they don't like the Alliance much."

"But they used space scum like you to carry it out."

"Space scum like me, yes. But not me."

"You are a know associate of Tasha Yar, aren't you?"

"I know her, yes."

"Can you explain how she managed to convince us that she was dead? Her death was confirmed. She was caught, put into slavery and, in a moment of rebellion, executed. How is she still alive?"

"I have no idea."

Damar paused, just looking at her for a moment. He seemed to be deciding whether he should kill right then and there or get the full story out of her. "All right," he finally said. "We have plenty of time before your execution. Why don't you tell me what happened. As you understand it, of course."

Ezri looked up at the Cardassian and held his steely gaze.

"Fine," she said, readying herself for the tale. "This is how it went down...

The pile of junk was once a shuttle pod. What remained of it's overall design suggested that it could have been from the fabled Terran Empire, nearly a hundred years dead. The Empire was vast, powerful, feared and respected throughout the galaxy. But, if this pod was indeed from the Empire, one of the only pieces of evidence left of this shining, conquering jewel was this pile of rusting junk.

The junk lay in a vast cargo bay. Or, at least, it was once a cargo bay. Now it was simply a place to store garbage, scrap metal. At one end of this cargo bay, a figure emerged. Clad in black, with a sinuous, slinky, sexy walk, it was clearly female. The woman wore a hood, casting dark shadows across her face. A cloak covered black boots, black pants, black shirt. Under the hood, one could see blue eyeshadow around dark, piercing eyes. Little tufts of black hair poked out of the hood around her ears. Brown spots ran down the sides of her neck.

"Logic dictates that we are alone," a voice said.

The hooded woman smiled and pushed the hood off her head. Her short black hair was unkempt, wild and her wry smile was almost psychotic. Ezri was a dark vision when she smiled, which was rare. But... she had missed that voice.

Sekonna stepped out of the shadows, her choice of color dark brown. The Vulcan was staid, of course, but there was a hint of something in her face, something that could have been mischief, or treachery. Ezri knew she was capable of it, the Vulcan and the Trill went way back.

"Does it?" Ezri said, in response to the Vulcan's statement.

Sekonna nodded. "I have scanned the area," she said. "As, I suspect, you have."

Ezri smirked and nodded.

"I must admit," the Vulcan went on, "I was surprised to see your transmission."

"It has been a long time," Ezri said.

"Six years, ten months and twenty days."

"Hard to believe."

"Yes." Sekonna circled around Ezri, hands clasped behind her back. She seemed to be sizing the Trill up. If Vulcans ever did anything of the kind. "Tell me," Sekonna continued, "are you still engaged in sexual relations with the Intendant of Bajor?"

Ezri exhaled and averted her gaze from the other woman. "No," she said. "Were you jealous?"

"Not at all. But, in the interest of stimulating conversation, I must ask: did you enjoy her more than you did myself?"

"I'm not even going to answer that one, Sekonna."

"Well, better than her, perhaps?"

Ezri looked up again at the Vulcan.

"Let's not talk about her," Ezri said, "or the Intendant, or any of my former girlfriends for that matter. I called you here for a reason."

"Of course you did. You always have a reason for the things you do. And a plan."

"Only way to live," Ezri said. "I'm setting up a score."

"I suspected as much."

"Not much gets by you."

"No," Sekonna said, "not much. What is the plan?"

"I can't say anything about it. But it's big."

"From you, I would expect nothing less."

"No, I mean really big."

"Oh, yes?"

"Yeah," Ezri said, taking another step towards the Vulcan.

"And you can't say anything about it," Sekonna said. If she didn't know better, Ezri would have said that the Vulcan was teasing her.

"I'll say one thing," Ezri said. "It's on Terok Nor."

Sekonna only nodded.

"Are you in?" Ezri asked, flat out.

"You can count on my assistance." Sekonna said.

"Your end would be more than ___ million Alliance credits."

"Alliance credits," Sekonna mused. "I'm intrigued."

"You'll have to stay intrigued," Ezri said, turning to leave, "I can't tell you anymore." She handed Sekonna a data pad. "Meet me at these coordinates in seven days."

The Vulcan purused the pad.

"These coordinates are on a planet with something of a reputation," she said.

"That's right," Ezri said, looking over her shoulder. "Make you nervous?"

"Of course not," Sekonna said.

"Of course not," Ezri agreed.

"Ezri," Sekonna said. The Trill stopped.

"Yeah?" she said.

"Is there any possibly that the two of us..." Sekonna trailed off.

Ezri paused a good while before answering.

"I'm sorry," she finally said, then left.

In a grimy, desolate Romulan hole, Sito Jaxa was alone in a corner, not moving. Her thoughts, which were her only reprieve, drifted to Selar, the Vulcan woman. Selar was the only person in this universe that had been kind to her. And she had left. Sito didn't quite know the full situation, but she understood that she was property, now. That she was owned. And Selar

was not her owner. As far as the young Bajoran woman could tell, her owner was Tasha Yar. And yet, that was impossible. Tasha was dead. When she had met this Tasha on Deep Space Nine, the older Terran woman had had an explanation, an explanation that Sito had believed at the time, but, ever since, had seemed ridiculous.

And now she was property. A weapon, in fact. She didn't quite understand how or why, but, apparently, she was dangerous. Had she been brain-washed when she was in Cardassian hands? Did she now possess skills that she didn't know she had? It was perplexing, to say the least.

When the door to her hole opened, she was terrified. Normally, only a small opening at the base of the door opened once daily, to provide basic and bland food. This was not part of the routine.

"So this is our little weapon," a sensuous, powerful female voice said.

"Yes," a second female voice said.

As the two figures entered the room, Sito could see that they were Romulans, both beautiful in their way. They all looked the same to Sito.

"You were not lying when you said she was gorgeous, Rakal," the first woman said. She grabbed Sito's chin and pulled her head up, demanding the Bajoran's undivided attention. "I am Commander Donatra."

Sito said nothing.

"Answer the Commander," Rakal said. "Introduce yourself."

"I am Lieutenant Sito Jaxa of Starfleet," Sito said with as much pride as she could manage.

"A Lieutenant, in fact," Donatra said, amused. "But what is Starfleet, Major?"

"Apparently," Major Rakal said, "it is an alliance of benevolent planets in their universe."

"Hmmm," Donatra mused. "An opposite of the Alliance in our universe."

"Precisely," Rakal said.

"Tell me, girl," Donatra said, "what are your qualities?"

"What?" Sito did not understand what was going on.

"All I ask for," said a voice at the doorway, "is a small battle cruiser." It was Tasha. "Not much to ask for a formidable weapon. Plus, her other charms, of course."

"We have run a complete scan on her," Major Rakal said. "Everything seems to be how you described."

"What about her other qualities?" Donatra asked.

"That's all I'm interested in. You can play your little war games, Major. Killing one Intendant is not an important victory."

"It will cripple the Alliance," Major Rakal argued. "Kira is one of their most important Intendants."

"All right, Rekal, all right. As I said, you play your games. I have my own to play with little Sito here. You can leave us."

Tasha left the doorway, but Major Rakal refused to move. "What if I want to play, as well?" she asked.

"I have no problem with that," Donatra said.

Realizing what was about to happen, Sito began to panic.

"Hey now," Donatra said, noticing her discomfort, "there's no need to panic. This can be enjoyable if you let yourself go. Now, get those filthy clothes off."

"No," Sito whimpered as Donatra tore open the front of her uniform. Rakal already had her right hand between her legs. Her left was tracing the line of her chin and neck. Beyond all reason, Sito was intrigued. Was it some kind of Romulan erogenous zone? Before she could concentrate on the matter any further, Donatra leaned forward and bit her ear. The bite was not strong enough to cause any serious damage, but it was painful. Sito yelped slightly and covered her now naked breasts.

"Shy?" Donatra asked. "A girl like you? I don't believe it." And she tore off the Bajoran's pants. Sito was now naked but for a pair of slight, regulation panties. "Oh," Donatra said, "such lovely undergarments." She laughed. Sito noticed that Rakal was now completely nude. She was on her knees, legs spread, hand nearly inside herself. Donatra hadn't even taken off one of her black gloves. She grabbed Rakal by the hair and forced a kiss on her, short but passionate. Suddenly, Sito wanted to be kissed that way. Wanted to be touched and perhaps hurt by this dark, powerful woman.

"Yes," she said. Donatra looked at her intently for a moment.

"You like this," she said, "don't you?"

Sito nodded, not believing that she was doing so. The Commander tightened her glove. "Get ready to be penetrated, my little thing," she said. With her left hand, Donatra grasped the side of Sito's head, caressing and probing. With her right, she began to rub the Bajoran's mound on the outside of the panties. Sito began to lose it. She was sweating, every pore apparently ejecting all of her body's liquids. She couldn't believe she was doing this. It was dirty, it was dark, it was desperate, but there was no denying that it was. She needed contact with another humanoid.

Rakal was now draped over Donatra, licking the left side of her face. The Commander's eyes rolled up into her head in ecstasy. Sito was puzzled. Donatra hadn't taken off a stitch of clothing and neither her sex or her breasts were stimulated. But she was certainly getting off on the whole affair.

The Major looked into Sito's eyes and spoke to Donatra.

"I want her," she said.

"Not until I've had her," the Commander replied. Neither of the women were looking at each other, they were both staring intently at the succulent Bajoran who was their captive.

With startling intensity, Donatra tore off Sito's panties. She did it so fast and harsh that red marks rose on the Bajoran's thighs. The Romulan in charge then started to probe with her fingers the pink folds of Sito's flesh. For all the world, she looked like she was digging for gold-pressed latinum. Soon, three fingers were completely inside the little Bajoran.

Then four.

Sito was shocked as all five fingers on the Romulan's hand disappeared into her flesh. And still Donatra was pushing, her fist slowly becoming part of the Bajoran's body. Soon, her arm was an extra appendage that belonged to Sito. The feeling was painful, exhilarating, maddening and intensely pleasurable. Sito gritted her teeth; she didn't want the Romulans to see her scream.

Donatra made a fist inside Sito and twisted it this way and that, exploring every inch of her Bajoran toy.

Sito felt so full that she was convinced that Donatra was going to find her way past her bladder and into her liver. She closed her eyes, tried not bite her tongue off as the first orgasm rocked her body. A little, whining cry escaped her lips. The Commander smiled, satisfied.

"My turn," Rakal said and pushed Donatra aside. The Commander's hand was suddenly out of Sito. The Bajoran felt empty all of a sudden. She was starting to get used to the feeling of Donatra's hand being a part of her. Rakal immediately attacked the Bajoran pussy that was on display with her mouth. It was, with a little tuft of light, downy hair just above the pink folds of flesh.

The Major was lying on her stomach, her face buried between Sito's legs, her eyes just above the mound of skin, staring intently into the Bajoran's eyes. Donatra was casually sticking two fingers in and out of Rakal's rectum, going all the way up to the last knuckles. As Sito was beginning to feel another orgasm coming on, Donatra slinked up to her and kissed her long and passionately. All of her bodily functions shutting down, Sito collapsed into a fetal position, exhausted.

"I think we broke her," Rakal said.

"Maybe," Donatra said.

"You guys are making me all sweaty," Tasha said from her position, standing in the now-open doorway. "I'd love to join in, but I have an appointment elsewhere. Keep her warm for me."

And then she was gone.

And Sito Jaxa, recently promoted, slowly, unconsciously, sucked her thumb and slept, dreaming dark, distressing dreams.

To Be Continued...

Author: Hansome Alvin ( hansomealvin@yahoo.com )

Series: Deep Space Nine, The Next Generation, Voyager (plus cameos from Nemesis and Generations)

Code: Sito Jaxa/MU Donatra/female, Intendant/f/f, MU Yar/MU B'Lanna, MU Leeta/MU Ziyal

Rating: NC-17

Parts: 6 (2/6)

Disclaimer: Characters from Star Trek (in any of it's incarnations) are property of Paramount. No ownership is implied, nor is any profit gained from the use of them in this context.

Warning: graphic sex, some non-consentual sex, graphic violence, character death (it's the mirror unizerse!!)

Summary: In the Mirror Universe, Ezri puts her old crew back together for a big score on Terok Nor. But who is she working for? And will any of them survive?

Archiving: FFF, ASCEM, my website: (http://www.geocities.com/hansomealvin/ThinkMeWicked.html)

Feedback: send it to the list or myself (hansomealvin@yahoo.com)

Note: Part of the Femme Fuh-Q Fest - http://www.geocities.com/femme_fuhq_fest/

Note 2: Special thanks to Susan Wright, who (with her books Dark Passions, 1 & 2) set up some of the histories of these characters in the mirror universe. Thanks should also go to William Shatner, Garfield & Judith Reeves-Stevens, for their "Mirror Universe Trilogy" (Spectre, Dark Victory & Preserver.)

SHARDS

by Hansome Alvin (hansomealvin@yahoo.com)

Two: Alliances

In the luxurious, well-guarded palace that was the home of the Intendant of Sol, Tasha was a shadow. She crept along corridors, slinked around corners and eluded guards. She was unseen, a spectre, quiet and deadly, single-minded a purpose. Her goal was not far away. She turned a corner and stopped, seeing a sentry outside the Intendant's door. She waited in the shadows, knowing that soon he would make his rounds about the halls.

She was right. The guard walked away from the door. A second later, Tasha glided over to the keypad. Within a minute, she had disabled it. Pulling her Klingon blade, she opened the door and entered into darkness.

She closed the door behind her and the Intendant pounced on her. Tasha was pinned under her, but not for long. Shifting her weight, Tasha flipped over the Intendant and brought her blade up.

"What took you so long?" B'Lanna Torres, the half Klingon, half Terran Intendant of Sol, said.

"Your guards are a little more paranoid than usual," Tasha replied.

Tasha's blade was still at the woman's throat, and her other hand was around the half-Klingon's neck.

"They're well trained," B'Lanna said.

Tasha's throttling hand relaxed and her thumb found it's way across B'Lanna's lips.

"So am I," Tasha said, a huge grin spreading over her face.

Suddenly, B'Lanna's teeth clamped down on Tasha's thumb. Tasha yelped as B'Lanna reclaimed her dominant position, straddling Tasha's hips.

"You want to play with me?" she asked. "Huh? You want to play with me, lover?"

"Only a little, baby," Tasha said and sliced a long, but shallow, groove down B'Lanna's outer thigh, with her knife. The Intendant wanted to scream, but she held it inside, taking the pain like a proper Klingon. She swore in this language and bared her teeth at the Terran.

"You make me scream," B'Lanna said, "and the guards will be inside in less than ten seconds and you're dead."

"Is that a challenge? Because if it is, I've had better."

She dropped the knife and with that hand cupped the other woman's sex. "This should make you scream faster," she said. "You see, hon, there's this great, ancient Terran word. Fuck. I'm gonna fuck you. Until you scream."

And she reached up under B'Lanna's legs and yanked her pants down. She started to manipulate the folds of the Klingon/Terran flesh between her legs.

"Ooooh," was all that B'Lanna could say as she collapsed onto Tasha, who was doing amazing things to her sex. The Terran licked the bumps on her lover's forehead as she fucked her.

"God," Tasha said, overheating, "I gotta get my mouth down there."

She shimmied her way under B'Lanna and got to work with her mouth. She playfully bit and gnawed at the flesh. The heavenly, delicious flesh. It was unique. A mixture of Terran and Klingon flavors. Tasha had tasted both at other times, but together, they were astonishing.

B'Lanna regained some of her strength and rose up on her knees. She began pumping up and down on her lover's face, not holding back her strength, she wanted to inflict a few bruises.

Love was about trust anyway.

"Fuck?" B'Lanna tried. "Fuck. It's a good word. I'm fucking your face."

"That's right," Tasha said, her voice muffled. The Terran felt a few drops of blood from the wound on B'Lanna's leg fall onto her forehead. It somehow lent another level of sensuality to the whole affair. It was then that B'Lanna reached back with her hand and began to attack Tasha's sex with her hand. After a few moments, the both of them were climaxing, trying to curtail their screams.

"I love you," B'Lanna said sometime later, the two of them lying in bed together.

Tasha said nothing.

"Love me?" B'Lanna tried.

"Don't make me say it," Tasha said.

"I need to hear it."

"I can't say it."

"Tasha, love, it's hard enough being half-Terran and holding my position in the Alliance," B'Lanna said. "Add to that, I sleep with women. And on top of everything, the one person that I care most about can't even say, 'I love you.' That doesn't sit well with me."

"You think it sits any better with me?" Tasha said, turning away from her love, not bearing to look at her. "I can't say it. I'm not that way. Ezri could say it to her love. Brunt could say it.

You can. But, I can't."

There was silence for nearly a full minute.

"Ezri," B'Lanna said. "So, you've seen her again." It wasn't a question.

"Recently," Tasha said.

"Anything dangerous?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle."

"Can you tell me what it was?"

"No."

"What new job are you on?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know or you don't want to tell me."

"I don't know."

"Well," B'Lanna said, "I don't know if you love me."

Tasha said nothing, a tear rolling down her cheek.

Betazed II was once meant to be a paradise destination. When Deanna Troi was the Intendant of Betazed, she had tried to develop the planet to meet those needs. Now, since her death, the planet had degenerated into a nest of thieves and con men, a Babylon in deep space. Whores, killers and madmen made up the general populous. This, naturally, was the place that Ezri would find the next two members of her crew.

She found her destination, the Faulty Escape Hatch, after only an hour of searching. The place was a dive, frequented by Resistance and Alliance sympathizers alike. Low lives, all. Ezri approached the madamme, an overweight slug of a woman who acted like a queen on her little pedestal in a corner in the front room.

"May I help you?" she said as Ezri approached.

"Yes, you can," Ezri said.

"Let me guess, you wanna job? Well, you can forget about it, we're stocked up at the moment. Come back in a few months."

"I don't want a job, you ugly old whore."

"You wanna little companionship this evening? Only one free at the moment is me."

Ezri only smiled. The smile contained no warmth or humor.

"I want to speak with the owners," she said.

"They're busy."

"Not for me."

"Oh yes they are."

Quicker than the eye, Ezri's dagger was suddenly at the old whore's throat. Sweat was suddenly pouring down the woman's forehead.

"Please point me in the direction of the owners," Ezri said pleasantly.

"They're in the back," the old woman said.

"Thank you."

The dagger was gone and Ezri was heading down the hallway towards the backroom. Every so often, she looked to her right or left, peaking into the doors on either side. Many were closed, but quite a few were open. Some fully, some only a crack. Sexual practices of all kinds were being performed in each room, it seemed. There were one or two things that even made Ezri nervous.

When the Trill reached the backroom and entered, William Riker was sitting on a filthy couch surrounded by advertisements for various prostitutes. He acted as if he expected Ezri to come walking into the room. As if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Ezri," he said, all smile. "To what do we owe this most pleasant surprise?"

"Nothing serious, I hope," Thomas Riker said, emerging from a connecting doorway. Ezri had never seen the two Rikers apart. They were simply always together. More than twelve years ago, William Riker was duplicated in a transporter accident. Ever since, the two were among the most effective pirates and con men in the known universe. They had opened this "house of ill repute" about three years earlier.

"No," Ezri answered their question, "nothing serious. Just a job."

"A job?" William said, clearly interested.

"Sounds tempting," Thomas said.

"I haven't even told you about yet," Ezri said.

"You're involved," William said. "That's all we need to know."

"You don't even want to know all the credits you'll be swimming in?"

"That's always good, as well," Thomas said.

"But we're doing okay here," William said. "As far as material pleasures are concerned.

We're much more interested in the challenge."

"How do you know it's going to be a challenge?"

"Because you wouldn't be asking us for help if the job wasn't some kind of challenge," Thomas said.

"Shrewd as ever," Ezri mused.

"Oh, we're sharp guys."

"Hey," Ezri said suddenly, "which one of you was with Intendant Picard's crew when he was following orders from Emperor Tiberius?"

"That was me," William said. At least Ezri thought it was William.

"I've always wanted to meet Intendant Picard," she said.

"He's a strange man," William said. "And no one's seen him since we returned to this side of the universe. He simply disappeared."

"So," Thomas said, sidling up next to Ezri, "now that we'll be working together..."

"And spending time together," William added, getting close to Ezri on her other side.

"Maybe we could, you know," Thomas said, his hand drifting to her thigh.

"Yes," William said. "We never have been properly involved before."

Ezri pushed both of their wandering hands away. "I don't think so," she said.

"Still hung up on her, aren't you?" William said.

"No, of course not. She's the next person I'm going to see."

"You really think she'll want to come back?" Thomas asked.

"I don't know. Guess I'll go find out." She moved towards the door. "Here," she gave one of the Rikers a data pad. "Meet me at these coordinates in five days."

"Will do," Thomas said. Ezri left.

"Hot, hot, hot," William said.

"Yes," Thomas agreed.

"I'd like to get to know her better."

"Indeed." The two Rikers smiled lecherously.

It had been eight months since Brunt's death and Ezri still felt that burning pain in her stomach.

Not her heart, but her stomach. It almost made her sick to think that Brunt, the only friend she had for the past two years, was gone. And now, with this job she was plotting, she would be heading back to Terok Nor, where the Intendant, Kira Nerys, was residing. All of those intense emotions would be dredged up. But before that, she had to face another guilt from the past, one that could be even more painful.

She was on Bajor, her destination a little homestead built into one of the planet's more elaborate mountain ranges. It was primitive, with no discernible capital "T" technology strewn about. There wasn't even a comm system on the front door, Ezri had to knock. A few moments later, Ro Laren answered the door. Momentarily, Ezri felt like simply collapsing into the Bajoran's arms and pouring out her heart, all of her guilt: the rift between the two women, the deaths of Brunt and the lover she had taken after Ro had left her, the betrayal of Kira and so many other things. She did not do this, however, could not, simply smiled and said, "Hello."

It was almost a full minute before Ro answered. "Hello, Ezri."

"I'm putting the crew back together, Laren. Big score. I want you to be a part of it."

All business. Good. That was the way to handle it.

"That's all you have to say to me?" Ro asked, a little more than a hint of incredulousness in her voice.

"I've missed you," Ezri said. Damn. Admitting to a flaw. What was she thinking?

"Goodbye, Ezri," Ro said and began to close the door.

"Wait," Ezri said. Ro paused, the door only half shut.

"Well," she said. "I'm waiting."

"There's a small fortune to be made here. We're talking millions of Alliance credits."

"That's all? Money? I am a Bajoran citizen now. I have a home. I am normal now. I need nothing else." She started to close the door again.

"All right," Ezri stopped her. "All right. I need you. Not just because you're the best pilot I know. I need you... for me. I need you to be with me. Do you know about Brunt?"

"Yes," Ro said. Ezri noticed the door was now fully open once again.

"Then you know how I feel. You know how much he cared for me. And you know how much I relied on him. Especially since you left."

"You know it's been nearly three years since I left?" Ro asked.

"Yes," Ezri said.

"When you asked me to join your crew, I was astonished. I didn't know what to say. I was just a thug then. An Alliance tool who was occasionally taken into a back room by the Regent and raped by him and his men. The only reason I survived is because I'm a survivor, Ezri.

That's all. You offered escape. And hope. Of course, I knew you were a pirate. I knew you had no scruples. But what you did for the Alliance three years ago sickened me. I didn't mind doing a job for them from time to time, but what you did was wrong. And you knew it." Ro stopped. The emotions surging through her were so powerful that she had to take a breather.

"By the prophets," she continued after a moment, "this was even before you started sleeping with the Intendant. How could you be with someone like that?"

"If you hate the Alliance so much," Ezri asked, "how can you live as one of their 'normal citizens?'"

"I don't have to answer to you."

"And you should afford me the same courtesy."

"All right. That's fine. What's the job?"

"I can't give you all the details, only that there's a lot of credits involved and that it's on Terok Nor."

"Terok Nor?" Ro was interested. "Is this job something the Alliance wouldn't approve of?"

"Let's just say they won't be happy about us being there, if you know what I mean."

A smile finally materialized on Ro's face. Ezri saw this as her opening. "Do you still have it?"

Ro just smiled for a second before answering. "Course," she said.

Ro led Ezri out a backdoor of the house. A door that led into the mountainside. Hollowed out of the mountain was a spacecraft hanger. Ezri could see larger doors on the far side, just a crack of light streaming between the seams, presumably where the ship could take off. It was dark, but the Trill's eyes soon adjusted. And she saw it. The Getaway.

"God," she said. "She's just as beautiful as ever."

"Twenty-five years old and still the fastest ship in the quadrant," Ro said.

It was a Klingon Bird-of-Prey, modified for maximum speed. It was dirty and battle-hard, but Ezri found it gorgeous all the same.

"I think you loved this ship more than you loved me," Ro said, reading Ezri's expression. Ezri didn't answer, just approached the ship and ran her right hand along it's surface.

"It only needs one more piece and it'll be perfect," Ezri said.

"And what's that?" Ro asked. Ezri handed her a data pad.

"A cloaking device," Ezri said.

"Where did you get these schematics?" Ro asked, eyes glued to the pad.

"The other universe. Pretty useful place, really." She paused, letting Ro puruse the data pad.

"So, I guess that means you're in."

"I'm in," Ro said. She couldn't keep the smile from her lips.

Ezri had just gotten out of the shower back home when her door chimed. She walked to the door, water glistening on her naked body--she didn't like sonic showers, preferring the real thing--and opened the door. Since she knew who it was, she felt no shame. Leeta was momentarily startled by her nakedness.

"How is everything progressing?" she finally managed.

"Fine," Ezri said, turning and letting Leeta in, giving the Bajoran a full view of her small, pert, round ass. "Everyone's coming."

"All of them?"

"All of them."

"Then it's going to work."

"Maybe," Ezri said.

Leeta approached the Trill and snaked an arm around her tiny, naked waist. She buried her face in Ezri's neck. "I'm lonely," she said.

Ezri pushed her away, said, "You don't get to have me."

"What?" Leeta asked. "Why?"

"You know why."

Leeta looked away. Best to get onto another subject. "You said 'maybe,'" she said.

"Yes," Ezri said, arms folded across her breasts.

"What did you mean?"

"Well," Ezri said, "let's just hope none of them are in the Alliance's pocket."

Sekonna and T'Pena liked to undress each other rather than themselves. It led to a kind of intimacy and familiarity with each other's bodies that the two Vulcans were not normally aware of. Sekonna slipped an extravagant necklace over T'Pena's head and around her neck. She paused and pushed a lock of the other woman's black hair behind an ear.

"Still nervous?" Sekonna asked.

"That is an emotion," T'Pena said.

"Contrary to certain beliefs, we do experience emotions. We're just very good at concealing them. Some more than others."

"I am not nervous."

"Then, it is time."

Ten minutes later, after the bath had been drawn, their mistress walked through the door.

"Mistress," Sekonna said.

"Mistress," T'Pena said.

"How are you, my gorgeous little things?" The Intendant of Bajor, Kira Nerys, said. "Ah, Sekonna, I see you're back from your chore."

To Be Continued...

Title: Shards

Author: Hansome Alvin ( hansomealvin@yahoo.com )

Series: Deep Space Nine, The Next Generation, Voyager (with cameos from Nemesis and Generations)

Code: Sito Jaxa/MU Donatra/female, Intendant/f/f, MU Yar/MU B'Lanna, MU Leeta/MU Ziyal

Rating: NC-17

Parts: 6 (3/6)

Disclaimer: Characters from Star Trek (in any of it's incarnations) are property of Paramount. No ownership is implied, nor is any profit gained from the use of them in this context.

Warning: graphic sex, some non-consentual sex, graphic violence, character death (it's the mirror unizerse!!)

Summary: In the Mirror Universe, Ezri puts her old crew back together for a big score on Terok Nor. But who is she working for? And will any of them survive? Meanwhile, poor Sito Jaxa, in chains and lost in a universe she has no understanding of, is being used as a pawn by the Romulans. Is she clever enough to find a way out? And how can romance blossum in such a crazy, mixed-up, shattered universe?

Archiving: FFF, ASCEM, my website: ( http://www.geocities.com/hansomealvin/ThinkMeWicked.html )

Feedback: send it to the list or myself ( hansomealvin@yahoo.com )

Note: Part of the Femme Fuh-Q Fest - http://www.geocities.com/femme_fuhq_fest/

Note 2: Special thanks to Susan Wright, who (with her books Dark Passions, 1 & 2) set up some of the histories of these characters in the mirror universe. Thanks should also go to William Shatner, Garfield & Judith Reeves-Stevens, for their "Mirror Universe Trilogy" (Spectre, Dark Victory & Preserver.)

SHARDS

by Hansome Alvin (hansomealvin@yahoo.com)

Three: Dagger of the Mind

Kira had been soaking in her bath for about fifteen minutes before she spoke.

"All the things I do to your body," she said as Sekonna ran a hand, covered in highly expensive soap, across her Mistress's shoulders. "All the things you do to mine, and nothing. You never seem to be having a good time, Sekonna. Why is that?"

"I always have a good time, Mistress," Sekonna said.

"Well, that's not what it looks like to me. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were bored. But I know that's not true, because if it was, I would have you executed and neither of us would want that, now would we?"

"No, Mistress."

Kira stared at Sekonna for a few moments before speaking again.

"T'Pena," she said, not looking at the young woman, "fetch that green box on the nightstand across the room."

"Yes, Mistress."

Kira finally looked at T'Pena as the Vulcan walked away, catching a glimpse of her fine backside.

"I'm going to make you feel something, Sekonna," Kira said.

"Yes, Mistress."

T'Pena returned with the box, handing it over to her mistress. Kira opened it. Inside was a string of beads, silver, almost an inch and a half in diameter a piece.

"Sekonna, get in the tub with me."

The Vulcan stood and lifted a leg into the tub.

"T'Pena," Kira said, "support her."

The younger Vulcan held onto Sekonna as she put her other leg in.

"Now, get on your knees."

Sekonna did so, ass to her mistress.

"And lean over the edge of the tub."

T'Pena supported Sekonna's weight as she followed orders.

"It's easy to make a Vulcan express emotion with pain and despair, believe me, I know," the Intendant said. "I want more of a challenge. I want to make you feel something with pleasure. Now, that's much more interesting." Kira rubbed Sekonna's ass, tracing her fingers between the Vulcan's cheeks.

"Look at this ass," she mused. "Amazing to think that a Vulcan, a species not known for frequent sexual practices, would be born with such a succulent ass."

Kira grabbed the beads and pressed the first one against Sekonna's rectum.

"Now don't be embarrassed if you feel the need to cry out," the Intendant said. "In pain or pleasure."

A small grin crossed her face as she pushed the first bead inside. The tip of her finger followed with it, Kira wanted the beads as far in as she could manage.

Sekonna was holding onto T'Pena, her hands on the small of the younger Vulcan's back.

When the first bead penetrated her, her hands groped lower and gripped T'Pena's ass. Her face, resting in the crook of Tâ??Penaâ??s shoulder, remained impassive.

The second bead popped in and Sekonna's breath quickened. She desperately tried to keep her emotions in check, but it wasn't working. Kira was making small pleasure noises every time she sent a bead into the Vulcan.

Suddenly, the Intendant used her other hand to grasp the Vulcan's sex as she penetrated her ass with another bead. With that, it was all over. Sekonna screamed in pleasure.

She would have been upset with herself if that had not been yet another emotion.

Sito was led into a narrow room that seemed to ascend to the heavens. A man was in the room. He was standing near an operating table and a little, rolling table filled with exotic medical instruments. This did not look promising.

"Put her on the table, if you please," the man said.

Sito tried to struggle but the two Romulan guards were able to strap her down with little effort.

"I am Dr. Soran," the man said, leaning over her. He was older looking, thin, with gray hair.

There was a look in his eyes, a kind of wild, desperate look. "I hope you understand that I am just doing my job."

Sito spit in his face. "Just doing you job," she repeated. "By the Prophets."

"Ah, so you're a believer," Dr. Soran said. Sito did not answer. "I, myself, have long since stopped believing in anything larger than myself." He started to prep for the operation, affixing gloves, choosing his instrument, and so on.

"You see," he continued, "my people, the Elorions, once believed in a kind of afterlife that we called 'the Nexus.' The Nexus was like... living inside joy. It was a magnificent idea: living inside your most cherished memories. That was before the Alliance came into the picture, however. My people suddenly had much more to worry about than finding the Nexus. A shame but... one must put away childish things. After the Alliance slaughtered my family and nearly hunted my people to extinction, I sought out the Romulans. I was determined to destroy the Alliance by any means necessary. So, you see, that while I can sympathize with your predicament, I must carry out my assignment. The Alliance must be eradicated. I'm sure you understand." He turned to her. Sito got the impression that he wanted an answer. So, she spoke.

"I don't even know who the Alliance is, doctor," she said.

"Really?" Dr. Soran said, he sounded genuinely interested. "Tell me," he went on, "how is that possible?"

"As far as I understand it," she said, "I'm from another universe, parallel to this one. And I have some kind of Cardassian weapon in me that your people want to make use of."

"Good," Dr. Soran said, smiling. "You are correct. My job is one of modification." He turned away from her, chose a wicked-looking instrument and whirled back around. "I'm not going to say that this won't hurt. We would both know that that would be a lie. But, try to keep your eye open. I don't want to cause you anymore pain then I have to."

Sito gritted her teeth as Soran got to work. Several times, she nearly passed out from the pain. In the middle of the procedure, she caught a glimpse of what the doctor was doing out of a reflective surface on the instrument table. Her left eye had been suspended, projected, out of it's socket at least three inches. It was outside of her skull. This, however, was not the most alarming thing she saw, however. No, that was what had been applied to the orb. Small veins of circuitry lined the bottom half of her left eye. It was grotesque. At that moment, Dr. Soran clamped a small, heavy electronic device onto the nerve that connected her eye to her brain.

The pain, coupled with the horrifying images she was seeing, conspired to finally plunge her into a blissful state of unconsciousness.

There was a time, a brief time, when the Terran Empire tried to make peace with the newly formed Alliance. And although this period in history did not result in universal peace, it did colonize a planet dedicated to peace: a neutral planet. This planet was Nimbus III and weapons were outlawed there.

Times had changed. Nimbus III was just as ruthless and dangerous as any other planet in the system, but there was some kind of aura about it. Some kind of feeling in the air. Things were just a little different on Nimbus III.

This was the place Ezri called home.

Her base was once a research facility buried under the scorching desert on the eastern hemisphere of the planet. On the meeting day, down under the sand, five people were putting together a plan.

"This is Terok Nor," Ezri said, activating a remote of some kind in her hand. When she did so, a large holographic display of the station appeared in the middle of the room. "I know you're all familiar with it. Recently, a contact of mine acquired detailed security data from the station."

Small red lights began to appear at different, regular points in the station.

"We now have complete knowledge of all security protocols," Ezri went on, "all guard posts, all security systems. Bottom line is: we own the station. We know every movement of every guard. I've also got a few more tricks up my sleeves if you play nice." There was scattered laughter among her crew. Her crew. They were all together again, the same team. Well, all but one. Brunt was certainly missed.

"What is the target?" Sekonna asked, hands folded behind her back.

"Not what," Ezri said, "who." She activated the remote. A holographic projection of a Cardassian woman appeared. At least, she looked Cardassian. Her complexion was a bit off.

Her skin was too pink.

"This is Tora Ziyal," Ezri went on. "Our target."

"This isn't an assassination, is it?" Ro asked.

"What's wrong with assassination?" one of the Rikers asked.

Ro looked like she was about to tell him what was wrong with assassination, but Ezri interrupted them.

"We're not gonna kill her," she said. "We're going to kidnap her."

"That half-breed?" Thomas Riker said.

That was it, Ro realized. She was a half-breed. The woman was half-Cardassian and half-Bajoran. She had seen such individuals from time to time on Bajor, daughters of Cardassian men and meek, Bajoran women--slaves, mainly.

"What could she possibly be worth?" William Riker asked.

"She is the daughter of Gul Dukat," Ezri announced to contemplative, astonished silence. Ezri let that fact sink in before continuing. "She may be a half-breed. In fact, Dukat didn't even know she existed until the Obsidian Order dumped her in his lap eight years ago. But he loves her. He cares for her just as much as any of his Cardassian children. Perhaps more so. We go in, we get what we want, we come out. Dukat will pay handsomely for the safe return of his daughter. I'm not going to say it's foolproof, that would be bad luck, but... it's pretty solid. I've given each of you a copy of the station's systems. Make them a part of your memory, people."

"What's the ransom?" Thomas Riker asked.

"______ million credits," Ezri said. "Divided evenly between us, as usual. Ro, you're in charge of the girl. Don't let anything happen to her without my say-so."

Ro nodded.

"Sekonna," Ezri went on, "you're in charge of the security system. I want it to be a non-issue."

The Vulcan turned her head slightly to one side. Her way of acknowledging that she understood.

"Riker," Ezri said. "Both of you. You're crowd control. Don't let anyone close to us, not security personnel, not the officers, not the civilians. No one gets through."

"You can count on us," one of them said. Thomas, Ezri was fairly certain.

"Okay, that's it. Business is concluded. On to more important things." Ezri walked over to a little bar area that she had set up in the corner. She produced a bottle of blue liquid.

"Romulan ale," Ro said, joining Ezri at the bar, amazed. "I hear this is fantastic."

"It's not bad," William Riker said.

"Leaves a bit of an after-taste," Thomas added. But both of them accepted a glass.

"Sekonna?" Ro said.

"No, thank you," the Vulcan said.

"Vulcans don't know how to have fun," Thomas said. "Isn't that right, Sekonna?"

Sekonna looked at them bemusedly, as if she knew something the others did not, could not, understand. She left just as the others started drinking.

A few hours later, as William and Thomas Riker managed to get through the door on their way home or perhaps some low-life hotel somewhere, Ezri and Ro smiled and simply sat in each other's company. It felt, to Ezri at least, like all the years that they were apart had evaporated. It was not an uncomfortable silence, pleasant, even. But it couldn't last forever.

"Why did you do it?" Ro finally asked.

"It was the job," Ezri answered immediately, she knew what Ro was referring to. "That was what I was paid to do."

"No it wasn't. The deal changed."

"Even if the deal changes, it's still the deal. You never understood that, Laren."

"I understood it, but I never subscribed to it."

"You were never really cut out for this business."

"Then why did you bring me along?"

"Well," Ezri hesitated, "the ship, for one. And..."

"And?"

"You."

Ro didn't answer for a moment. Then, "No. No, you're not getting away so easily. They were all dead, Ezri. They'll never hear you say 'I'm sorry.' And they'll never hear your precious little love platitudes."

"The job was to kill them, Laren," Ezri said.

"Maybe. But the deal changed. And what you...what we had to do to them. Well, I can't even bare to think about it."

"You think I do?"

Ro looked at her. "No," she said. "I know it tears you up inside. But..." Teardrops started to roll down Ro's right cheek. "But you still did. You still gave the order."

"They were already dead, they--"

"It doesn't matter, Ezri!"

"They--"

"They weren't innocents, but they were people. They were just colonists. Bajoran colonists. Yes, they had caused some problems for the Alliance, but, by the Prophets, so did we! It's not even the killing that bothered me. It was what we did. That grotesque..." Ro struggled for the right word, "display."

Ezri was quite now.

"I see it, you know," Ro went on. "I see it whenever I close my eyes."

"I see it, too," Ezri said, now looking intently into the Bajoran's eyes. She was openly crying now. "It was the job. They would have killed us if I hadn't made that order. They would have killed you. And I couldn't let that happen."

It was a long minute before Ro took Ezri into her embrace and kissed. A long minute before she was leading the small Trill into her bedroom.

They did not make love that night. The Romulan ale and bad memories prevented that. But they did sleep next to each other, holding each other.

Dr. Soran turned to the viewscreen that had just appeared behind him. "Yes?" he asked.

"How is it proceeding?" the Romulan Commander, an aging, dark beauty, said. Soran had never learned her name.

"The operation was a complete success. All of our safety measures are in place. Here, let me revive her." He applied a hypospray to her neck and Sito jolted upright. There was no more pain. That was one of the advantages of modern medicine, she mused.

"Now watch, she's going to blink," Dr. Soran said. Sito turned to the sound of his voice and saw that he was speaking to a viewscreen. And there was an older Romulan woman on--

All her thoughts ceased as pain, like a red hot sewing needle being plunged into her eye, rocked her body. She had blinked. That was all.

"You see," Soran said. "She can not even blink her left eye without causing herself intense pain. And each time she does it, the pain gets worse. The same thing happens if she tries to cover her eyes with her hands or any other obstruction. Nothing can block that all-seeing eye."

Sito stared at him, aghast. She experimented, closing her right eye. No pain. So it was true.

"Wait!" she said. "Wait, my eye will dry out. I have to blink or my eye will dry out!" She was so happy with herself. So happy to find this loophole that she almost laughed.

"I am afraid, my dear, that I am slightly more clever than you took me for. I have applied a self-lubricating system on the eye. You have no need to blink."

He was right. Her eye wasn't drying as they spoke.

"Good, doctor," the Romulan Commander said. "But I still don't see why she couldn't just avoid the target."

"Ah," Soran said, "I'm very proud of that. You are, of course, aware of my experiments with the Space/Time Continuum. I have developed a program that can sense a person's unique space/time signature. It is not completely foolproof as of yet. You can not, for example, just tune it to find a specific person, but if you have access to that person's DNA, you can track them. We have, of course, a sample of our target's DNA. Therefore, I have tuned the device to sense for her. When it finds her scent, say, within three kilometers, Sito will be drawn to the target. She will not be able to stop herself. I was hoping to tune the eye weapon to detonate when my device sensed the target, but the Obsidian Order has designed it too precise, it can only be activated by sight."

"Excellent work, doctor," the Romulan Commander said. "Natasha Yar has informed us that she has a plan on when and where to place the weapon. We only have to wait for her."

"Then my work is done?" Soran asked.

"For the moment. We have another job for you. It is in the Neutral Zone."

"Sounds intriguing," Soran said.

Ezri awoke sometime in the middle of the night. Ro was in a dead sleep and the Trill crept quietly out of bed, not wanting to wake her. She was extremely thirsty.

She headed off to the kitchen to get a glass of water when she saw the person sitting in one of her chairs. Ezri took a few steps forward to see who it was. Leeta was supposed to stop by or call tonight. She stopped when she saw who it was that was sitting in her chair, holding a gun on her.

"Why didn't you invite me?" Tasha Yar said, grinning a horrible grin.

To Be Continued ... SHARDS - parts 4-6