*****

*****

What has gone before...

In the ENT episode "In a Mirror, Darkly," the TOS starship Defiant passed into the ENT Mirror Universe, where Archer recovered it and used it to take over the Terran Empire. However, he was quickly killed by his consort, Sato, who then declared herself Empress.

In "Reflections of Empire" (Parts 1 & 2), former rebel T'Pol earned Sato's trust and helped her rule, until Sato killed her Regent, Reed, and was then killed by her lover, Mayweather. When Mayweather then killed himself, the Empire was suddenly left leaderless, and anxious eyes turned to T'Pol.

Now, months later, with the mantel of leadership having been thrust upon her, T'Pol struggles to hold together a crumbling Empire... one she had never sought to lead.

*****

It had been days since T'Pol had meditated. Every time she tried, she simply could not clear her head. The more she tried, the more frustrated she became, until she had finally just given up.

She sat in her quarters, bathed in the dim light of fading candles. A silver robe was wrapped about her as she sat on a chaise longue, her bare legs stretched out before her. The chime of her door sounded. "Enter," she called. She had no idea what time it was or who could be visiting.

In walked the blue-skinned, sultry, feminine form of Talas, her Andorian Captain of the Guard. Her black, leather-like uniform hugged her curves as she crossed the room with cat-like grace. Her antennae, rising up from a soft mane of snow-white hair, were ever twisting, turning, probing.

"M'lady." Talas paused and bowed her head ever so slightly -- formal enough to show that she hadn't forgotten she was subordinate, casual enough to show that she hadn't forgotten they were friends.

More than friends.

"What news?" asked T'Pol, anxiety and fatigue both fighting to control her mood. She sat up, adjusting her hair, pulling it back off her shoulders and gathering it behind her. Her light brown hair was just past her shoulders in length. She would occasionally braid a portion of it down one side or the other.

As she sat up, her untied robe fell slightly open. Her breasts were not revealed, but a soft stretch of flesh from her neck to her navel was.

Talas's eyes darted there for a moment, and she instinctively liked her lips, before returning her gaze to T'Pol's face. "It was as I'd feared, Praetor." T'Pol had refused the title Empress. "The human commanders continue to disobey their directives, even when delivered in person. They must be dealt with -- severely!"

T'Pol sighed. "Yes. I suppose it is unavoidable now. The fools!"

Talas was eager for action. "I have a plan for your consideration."

"Later," replied T'Pol. She crooked a knee, and her robe fell open the rest of the way, exposing her smooth-shaven Vulcan cunt, a silver ring through one lip. "You have been too long away from me already."

Talas smiled widely, showing large white teeth. She undid her black leather top, shedding it to expose more of her blue skin, and a small purple bra. She knelt by T'Pol's side, and the two came together in a passionate -- almost violent -- liplock. Talas slidd to one side, then the other, kissing T'Pol's cheek, her neck, her ear, eventually finding her way back and pushing her tongue into her mouth.

T'Pol sucked at it eagerly and moaned. She clawed Talas's bra off and, opening her own robe wider, pulled the Andorian to her, their breasts rubbing and sliding against each other. Even as she was ravaging her Captain, T'Pol pondered her own actions. She felt an almost animalistic urge overcoming her -- not the pon farr, but strong nonetheless.

Her robe falling away, she wrapped her naked legs around Talas and pulled her even closer. "Fuck me!" she growled. "I want to feel your cunt on mine!"

Talas struggled away from T'Pol's grip so she might shed her pants and comply with her Praetor's wish. The last of her black uniform gone, she stood before T'Pol, topless, wearing nothing but a pair of purple panties, which matched her long lost bra. She pulled a string on the side, but before the panties could fall away, she cupped her pussy, holding the panties, keeping herself covered. She teased her mistress. "You want this?" She rubbed herself. "You want my Andorian pussy?"

"Dammit, come here!" cried T'Pol. "Or I'll have you killed and fuck your dead body!"

Probably just a threat, thought Talas, but why take chances. She tossed the panties aside, revealing a neatly trimmed white pubic triangle above an azure pussy. She pounced on T'Pol, and the two ground themselves against each other. T'Pol grabbed hold of Talas's blue ass cheeks, squeezing and kneading. Talas sucked a Vulcan nipple into her mouth while playing with T'Pol's clitoris, all the while grinding away.

T'Pol considered her actions again. This urge, born of frustration perhaps. An Empire wanting her to solve its problems, but not wanting to do as she commanded. The irrepressible feeling of wolves at every door. The solace of meditation unattainable for her. The catharsis of orgasm, the passion of the bedroom, her only release.

Suddenly, she was thrusting uncontrollably against Talas, crying out in tortured pleasure as she gave in to her basest desires. And Talas's thrusting pussy was there to take all she could give.

The two sweating lovers collapsed together and slept. They awoke some time later, their bodies having disentangled themselves, now lying side by side, in each other's arms. The duties of a new day awaited, and they each rose wordlessly to prepare. While T'Pol washed up, Talas began pulling on her black leather once more. She did not wash, preferring instead to enjoy the post-coital funk that clung to her body.

Eventually, Talas could hold her tongue no longer. "The humans must be dealt with, T'Pol. Too many of them are openly defiant of your command. They resent having a Vulcan as their Empress. They resent reporting to an Andorian commander. Some of them even question if they should still call it the *Terran* Empire. They think it doesn't exist anymore -- and they want it back!"

T'Pol had emerged from the wash room and was putting on her gold-trimmed blue uniform, which she'd retained from her days serving Hoshi. "What would you have me do? Conduct a purge and decimate the officer corps?"

"Yes! Annihilate every traitorous dog!"

"Then what? Such an act would only plunge us into civil war and set us on the path to utter destruction. As separate factions, no other race could stand against the humans. We would become a conquered people again!"

"No!" pleaded Talas. "You would finally gain the respect you deserve. The Andorian Imperial Guard and the Vulcan High Command could form the greatest power in the Empire. We could sweep the Terrans aside and stand together as the mightiest alliance in the galaxy!"

T'Pol was about to shout an angry reply, but instead she gently touched her Captain's cheek. "Oh, Talas. Don't ever lose that fiery streak of ambition. I fear I'll have cause to lean on it before our troubles are over. But not yet. I refuse to forsake the humans just yet."

*****

Days later, T'Pol was pacing the Bridge of the I.S.S. Vindicator, flagship of the Imperial fleet. Talas stood nearby. Eventually, the I.S.S. Berserker appeared on the viewscreen. "Beam their commander and first officer here to the Bridge."

Moments later, Captain McKenzie and Commander Cole were standing before the Praetor. "Why," demanded T'Pol, "has your ship and half the squadron left their assigned sector?"

"I only follow orders, Praetor," responded McKenzie.

"Whose orders?"

"Admiral Hayes, of course."

"Admiral Hayes is derelict in his duties," continued T'Pol. "You and the rest of your squadron are to return to your proper patrol zone immediately."

"I follow the Admiral's orders," replied McKenzie arrogantly. "Not those of a Vulcan whore."

Talas struck McKenzie with the butt of her phase-pistol, knocking her to the deck. "The Praetor commands *all* in the Empire, including your contemptible Admiral."

McKenzie struggled to her knees, blood flowing from her lip. "Admiral Hayes is a Terran. He's the one we follow. And he'll soon be sitting on the throne, as the rightful ruler of the Empire." She stood fully. "Terrans will not be ruled by an outsider -- a former slave. All non-Terrans will soon learn their place!"

Talas was about to strike her again when T'Pol shouted, "Hold!"

Talas paused, her hand still raised. "But she deserves death for such heresy!"

"Yes," agreed T'Pol. "But not right away."

"The Agony Booth?"

"No," replied T'Pol coolly. "The Rape Room... See that everyone gets a turn."

Talas smiled a wicked smile and called for a restraint-stick. She was handed a staff about a meter long. On one end was a short curved blade. She hooked it under the collar of McKenzie's uniform and, with several hard tugs, rended her uniform from her body, not worrying about any incidental cuts to McKenzie's flesh.

The opposite end of the staff had a leather collar, which could be drawn tight. Talas looped it over McKenzie's head and pulled it tight around her neck. McKenzie suddenly gasped and grabbed at the collar. Two assistants quickly pulled her hands behind her back and bound them.

Thus she was led from the Bridge, struggling and gasping, to be paraded through the ship on her way to meet her fate.

T'Pol then turned to Commander Cole, who had been brought aboard for no other reason than to witness McKenzie's fate. "Commander, you are in charge now. Return the Berserker and the other ships to your sector, or I'll find someone who can."

*****

Several hours later, T'Pol was alone in her quarters when her door chimed. In came Talas, a contented smile on her face. T'Pol wasn't expecting her, but she wasn't surprised either. Working the Rape Room always got Talas's blood going.

"Everything under control?" asked T'Pol, a mixture of amusement and contempt in her voice.

"That human was a game little fighter. Of course, the more they struggle, the better it is. The crew was lined up out into the hall waiting for a turn." Talas crossed the floor, quickly shedding her black leather top and bottom. Her nipples pressed fiercely through her purple bra, and her matching panties had an obvious wet spot over her pussy from her earlier activity.

T'Pol was seated at a small desk, reviewing reports. She had her dark blue uniform pants on, but had taken off the matching jacket and had on only a light blue tee shirt. Talas swiveled T'Pol's chair to face her and hopped onto her lap. "I just wanted to stop by and make a *full* report." Talas took T'Pol's hand and placed it on top of the wet spot.

T'Pol began rubbing her, pushing the wet panties inside Talas's pussy. "Yes, my Empress," moaned Talas. She leaned down and kissed T'Pol along her neck. "Finger-fuck me, your Highness. Fuck your Captain."

Talas was always much better at sex-talk than T'Pol was. T'Pol silently stood up and led her Andorian lover over to the bed. Talas wrestled T'Pol out of her tee shirt and pants, so that the Vulcan was left with only a skimpy pair of baby-blue panties, nearly matching Talas's skin.

The Andorian cast off her bra and squeezed her own breasts, tweaking the dark blue nipples at the end. Then, pushing T'Pol backward onto the bed, she straddled her face and pushed her wet panties against T'Pol's mouth. "Suck them, my Queen! Suck the juice of your loyal soldier!"

T'Pol did suck them, and eventually manipulating the fabric aside with her tongue, she probed directly into Talas's pussy. As she did so, Talas reached back and, pushing T'Pol's panties aside, fingered her Praetor's own cunt.

They were each nearing climax when suddenly the ship was rocked by a mighty explosion. The elongated streaks of starlight visible through the window suddenly collapsed into mere pinpoints as the ship fell out of warp.

Moments later, both officers were on the Bridge to find out what'd happened. A bomb had taken out three decks in the Engineering section, killed half the Engineering team -- including the Chief, and left them dead-in-the-water.

"Contact the nearest Imperial ship to assist with repairs," ordered T'Pol.

*****

The I.S.S. Marauder soon responded to the Vindicator's distress call. An Engineering assistance team beamed over, both to make repairs and to investigate what had happened. T'Pol entered the Engineering section to check on the progress. "What is our status, Chief?" she asked the lead Engineer, a tall slim human hunched over a dismantled control panel.

Not expecting the Praetor herself to be standing behind him, the Engineer turned around with an annoyed expression. "Our status would be a lot better if you people would just leave me a-" He stopped suddenly when he saw T'Pol.

"Trip!" T'Pol blurted when she saw him. Standing before her, his face twisted by delta radiation, his spirit broken by her treachery years ago, was the human she'd nearly loved and ultimately betrayed. T'Pol struggled noticeably to regain her composure. "What do you have to report?"

Commander Tucker allowed his cold gaze to linger over her a moment longer than was necessary before turning to a nearby table. On it were several pieces of broken machinery collected during the investigation.

"The bomb was dilithium based, with an invidium-decay trigger. The saboteurs probably would have preferred using *tri*lithium, but that's much harder to come by. They still could have destroyed the ship if they'd placed the bomb closer to the warp core -- probably couldn't because of security. Instead, they ended up just collapsing the field."

T'Pol turned to one of her security officers. "It's possible the saboteur came from the Berserker. Check the transporter logs -- there may have been a third transport-beam hidden within McKenzie's and Cole's when they beamed over."

T'Pol turned back to Tucker and found herself hesitating once again. "Good work, Commander..." she managed before retreating from the area.

*****

Some time later, Commander Tucker entered T'Pol's quarters. "You sent for me?"

T'Pol pretended to get right to business. "We discovered DNA traces of a Berserker crewman among the debris in Engineering. Either intentionally or by accident, he perished in his own explosion."

Tucker shrugged his indifference to the news, so T'Pol continued. "I need an update on the repairs."

"Any one of your flunkies could have told you all you need to know... Hell, a *data pad* could have told you all you need to know. Why send for me."

T'Pol took a breath, silently cursing human stubbornness. "I thought I might... see how you were doing."

"How I'm doing? You mean since you nearly got me killed back on Enterprise? Got me a ride in Reed's famous Agony Booth? What do you care -- you obviously got what you wanted, *Praetor*!" He spit out her title like a curse.

T'Pol defended herself out of reflex. "I did not seek this role. I was fighting for the Rebellion -- we were desperate."

"We're all desperate, lady!" Tucker turned to leave, the door opening at his press of a button. "Is that all?"

Her final chance slipping away, T'Pol threw caution to the solar wind. "If you could leave, Trip... if you could get away... would you?"

"I'm not a traitor."

"I don't mean betray anyone... just leave it all behind... everything... would you?"

The door timed out and slid shut again as Trip stood there, thinking.

*****

Sweat glistened off T'Pol's naked body. She padded barefoot across the stone floor of the Vulcan temple, lighting torch after torch along the walls leading up to the altar. The altar itself was ablaze with candles. T'Pol knelt before it, resting her buttocks on her heels. She raised her hands before her, eyes closed in meditation.

Several days after the explosion aboard the Vindicator, T'Pol had sent Talas and the fleet back to Earth and headed herself to Vulcan. She sought a rejuvenation, a cleansing of the spirit. As with everything else in her life recently, her goal had so far eluded her.

"The Praetor is troubled, yes?"

T'Pol opened her eyes, but she stared into the candle flames rather than turn toward the voice -- a voice she readily recognized. "I wish solitude."

"Yet you rarely receive what you wish for, no?" T'Pau stepped out of the shadows of a side alcove, into the torch light. She stood behind T'Pol, wearing the long flowing robes of a Priestess. "What do you seek?"

T'Pol closed her eyes, trying again to meditate. "A solution... to this enigma of an empire."

"You are Vulcan. The empire is Terran. What is so difficult to understand?"

"I must find a way of forging this aggregate into a unified empire."

The Priestess knelt beside her Praetor and touched her temple with the fingertips of one hand. "That is not the answer you seek. You already know it is not attainable at this point in time. The humans are too aggressive. They are not prepared to coexist as equals."

T'Pau stepped back. "Pardon me, but these robes are heavy, and quite warm under all these torches." With that, she removed her vestments, revealing her nudity beneath. It was not uncommon for Vulcans to be naked while meditating or seeking spiritual guidance. They sought to leave behind the trappings of the modern world. But it also took a disciplined mind not to be swept up in the resulting primitive passions... or better yet, to use those passions to advantage.

T'Pau knelt next to T'Pol again. T'Pol was immediately distracted from her thoughts by the other female's naked presence. T'Pau, both a spiritual and political leader of her people, was only a few years older than T'Pol. She had a lean muscular frame and rich coppery skin, due to her years of living in the open desert. Shoulder-length dark hair framed an intelligent yet comforting face.

T'Pol's eyes darted uncontrollably to T'Pau's breasts, and then even to the wiry unshaven patch between her legs. Aware that T'Pau was a superb telepath, T'Pol was embarrassed knowing that her undisciplined sexual thoughts must have been shouting in T'P'au's mind.

T'Pau allowed herself a small smile. "Do not be ashamed. Emotions should be controlled, but not denied. Your body is as pleasing to me as mine is to you, even if you cannot hear that in my thoughts." She returned the fingers of one hand to T'Pol's face. "Let me help you find the answers you seek."

With T'Pau's help, T'Pol tried to meditate anew, but the desert Priestess' naked body so close to hers was more distraction than help. She was like another torch, radiating heat -- radiating passion. T'Pol struggled.

"Your emotions are inhibiting you, T'Pol. You must free them, disperse them, so you might pass beyond." T'Pau slid her fingers down T'Pol's face, tracing her neck, her shoulder, eventually cupping a breast. She leaned close, resting her check against her troubled Praetor's. She breathed hotly against T'Pol's flesh. "Release you passion, T'Pol. Give it to me and free yourself!"

Like a planet in a gravity well, T'Pol could not resist. She brought her lips to T'Pau's, and the two kissed passionately. Each groped the other's breasts, even as their tongues fenced and dueled with each other. T'Pau's hand reached between T'Pol's legs, stroking her smooth pussy.

Her fingers toyed with the silver ring. She disengaged from their kiss and bent down to look at it closely. "You don't need such reminders of your slave past. You no longer owe Hoshi anything." With that, T'Pau carefully twisted the ring, snapping it open. T'Pol winced as it was removed. T'Pau kissed the tender spot, then sucked it, then delved deeply into T'Pol's pussy with her entire mouth.

T'Pol fell back on the warm stone floor and spread her legs wantonly, while the desert Priestess tended to her needs. With her tongue inside T'Pol's pussy, T'Pau unexpectedly slid a finger inside T'Pol's anus. The Praetor's entire body tensed, but T'Pau continued to gently massage her, inside and out, until she again was approaching the heights of orgasm. As it broke free, T'Pol cried out, and her whole body shook. Her juices flowed, and T'Pau drank them like wine. Before it was finished, T'Pol had shed a few tears and even sobbed once or twice.

While T'Pol lay spent on the temple floor, T'Pau fetched one of her robes and gently covered her. Making no effort to hide her own nudity, she stepped over to a comm-panel on the wall. It's advanced metal alloy and glowing lights were noticeably out of place, set in the stone wall of an ancient temple still lit by torches.

Saying nothing, she pushed a button to summon her staff. Moments later, two servants in robes and two soldiers in armor appeared. Gesturing to the body on the floor, T'Pau said, "Return the Praetor to her quarters." The staff carefully scooped T'Pol up off the floor to carry her away. As they passed the Priestess, she halted them and placed her hand on T'Pol's face once more. "May you find the answers you seek."

*****

The next morning, T'Pol was awakened in her chamber by an urgent subspace message from Imperial Headquarters, after which she made immediate plans to return.

Before T'Pol left, T'Pau paid one more visit. "Is the way before you now clear, Praetor?"

T'Pol managed a smile of thanks. "It is. I know now what I *want* to do. But first, there is something that I *must* do." T'Pau looked at her inquisitively, and T'Pol's face darkened as she responded. "Talas has taken command of a fleet and attacked the humans. Worse still, she has done so in my name! I must stop her. And then... I must leave. Ruling the Empire is not my destiny."

"Then whose?"

"Does it matter? Nature abhors a vacuum -- a leader will be found. But it will be a human. And if we are fortunate, he will not turn his wrath on Vulcan."

"And what of you? You will be alone?"

"No." T'Pol smiled again. It was a blatant display of emotion, but she didn't care. "I will not be alone."

*****

T'Pol strode purposefully onto the Bridge of the Vindicator, confronting Talas in front of everyone. "Miscreant! Usurper! You condemn the humans for disregarding my orders and then do the same. Worse! How dare you wage a war in my name, knowing that was what I was struggling most to avoid."

Anticipating this moment, Talas was not taken aback. "My loyalty is to the Empire, and against *any* who might endanger it. Your pacifism would destroy us more surely than any war." Talas suddenly drew her ushaan-tor, the Andorian ice mining tool used as a weapon by members of the Andorian Guard. "If you won't do what must be done, I will!"

T'Pol took a step back, drawing a dagger strapped to her thigh. She was not in her typical blue jacket and pants uniform. Instead she wore a white catsuit which clung to her curves quite accurately, giving her great freedom of movement.

The bridge guards drew their weapons, but then paused, not quite knowing what to do. T'Pol waved them off. The two women then faced off against each other, circling on opposite sides of the captain's chair.

Talas took several tentative lunges, then struck hard. T'Pol was able to parry her blow and knock her aside, but a backhanded swing by Talas caught her low across the chest, just below the breasts. A ten centimeter gash opened, spilling green blood on her white uniform.

A lunge by T'Pol was also deflected, but she then kneed Talas in the gut. The Andorian doubled over, and a follow-up kick sent her tumbling across the deck. T'Pol pounced like a cat, driving her blade into Talas's shoulder, blue blood oozing out. They rose to their feet, arms locked in struggle. As they crashed into a nearby control panel, several crew members scurried out of the way.

A flick of Talas's blade cut T'Pol's uniform at the shoulder. The material fell away, exposing her left breast and a thin green wound. Her twisted uniform hindered her movement, so T'Pol shrugged off the catsuit to her waist and continued the fight topless.

Moments later, T'Pol deftly avoided another lunge by Talas, grabbing hold of the Andorian's arm with one hand and driving her blade home with the other. Talas let out a strangled gasp as T'Pol twisted the blade for good measure. Talas fell backward onto the deck, her antennae bending and flexing spastically, her hands clutching her gut as a blue stain spread across the floor. Finally, her antennae fell still, lying limply against her hair as her eyes rolled back in her head and the life finally drained out of her.

The injured T'Pol steadied herself against the captain's chair as she turned to the communications officer. "Send a general order. All ships of the Empire are to cease hostilities -- on both sides. Then contact Admiral Hayes."

*****

T'Pol and T'Pau emerged naked from the Vulcan temple, T'Pol's skin still showing several fresh battle scars. Trip was waiting for them on the front steps. His glance quickly darted from one nude form to the other. Even his radiation-scarred eye opened wide at the sight. Then his face turned red and, blushing, he mumbled, "I'll, uh... I'll wait for you over there," and slinked away.

T'Pau turned to T'Pol. "You brokered peace so quickly. I'm impressed."

"Hayes was the logical choice for a successor. I offered him what he wanted most, on condition that hostilities cease immediately. The alternative would have been a long and bloody war -- which I actually feared he might prefer. But offering him Talas's head as a gift help secure the deal."

"Where will you go now?"

"I don't know. I don't think it matters... Someplace far away."

T'Pau waxed philosophical. "I fear this brutal universe of ours will never appreciate what you accomplished for them... what you sacrificed for them."

T'Pol looked over at Trip, waiting patiently nearby. "No, I didn't sacrifice a thing." Looking back at T'Pau, she said, "Peace and long life, T'Pau."

"Live long and prosper, T'Pol."

"Thank you," she replied, a hint of a smile playing about her lips. "I think I will do both."

(End)