Breakdown
Posted on Sun May 17th, 2026 @ 5:40pm by Lieutenant Commander Bonnie "Bon-Bon" Durnell & Remal Kajun & Commander Dean House & Lieutenant JG T'Lar & Commander Jennifer Baldric
2,797 words; about a 14 minute read
Mission:
Pirates!
Location: ISS Sunfire
“The most dangerous mirrors are the ones that reflect what we might have become… and what we still could.”
ISS Sunfire Brig
T'Lar entered the Brig and ordered the security watch team to wait outside. She approached the center cell's shimmering blue forcefield wall. Baldric was curled up on the shelf like bed.
Semi conscious Baldric stirred, her body still aching from the earlier agony inflicted on it. She listened, but didn't turn
"I am not here to hurt you," T'Lar said. Her voice registered in an almost compassionate tone. "I simply have some questions about the other 'me' that I would appreciate answers to."
It was the Vulcan, the one who had melded with her. "You didn't see that when you rummaged through my brain before?" She retorted, knowing it would cost her.
Half-hidden in the darkened junction beyond the brig entrance, Bonnie stood motionless with one shoulder against the bulkhead, watching through lowered eyes as the Vulcan stepped inside. The guards straightened automatically at T’Lar’s approach, then hesitated only briefly before obeying the order to leave.
That drew Bonnie’s attention. Alone? The faintest grin touched her mouth. Interesting.
She waited until the brig doors sealed shut behind the departing guards with a low metallic thud. Only then did she push off the wall and drift soundlessly toward a secured auxiliary terminal recessed into the corridor. Her fingers bypassed the security lockout almost absently.
A moment later, the brig interior flickered to life across the small display mounted along her wrist. Bonnie leaned lightly back against the wall again, eyes fixed on the feed as T’Lar approached the forcefield.
“I am not here to hurt you.” That made Bonnie smile wider. The dagger appeared in her hand again, turning once between her fingers as she settled in to watch. Quiet. Patient. Curious to see whether the Vulcan truly believed her own words... or simply wanted to.
Baldric turned but didn't rise, waiting for T'Lar to come to her instead.
"There is no need for there to be unpleasantness during this set of questions, but I caution you, do not provoke me; especially when I am coming to you without threat of violence."
T'Lar paused to let that sink in.
"To answer your question, during the mind meld I was primarily concerned with determining how the Sunfire was able to track our ship, not sight seeing through your psyche. I am very curious about my Mirror Universe counterpart. You called her a 'counselor'. Is that some sort of advisor to the Captain? Some sort of military strategist?"
Baldric rolled the situation around in her mind, weighing up the threat potential vs the information they were fishing for.
"She is a counsellor, she provides a sounding board to the command staff as well as psychological care to the crew." Baldric replied from her position on the bench. She has risen to sitting but tucked her legs in front of her protectively.
"She is a psychotherapist? What an unusual choice of career for a Vulcan. Tell me, are she and I identical copies of each other?" T'Lar asked
Jennifer paused, taking a casual glance at the woman speaking to her. "Similar, but not exact, there's some differences that most will pick. I hope you did better with the duplicate of me otherwise she's gonna get busted straight up"
"Actually, if you were to put our Baldric in a room next to you as you were when you arrived, I would be hard pressed to tell the difference between you." T'Lar admitted
"I am different how? Be specific. " she persisted.
"Why? So you can go fix it and do a clean swap and screw over my crew?" Baldric retorted, surmising the true intent of the conversation. "I won't help you hurt my friends!"
T'Lar's visage darkened.
"You are trying my patience. I am still willing to give you a chance to be reasonable. We can return to the question of the differences in my appearance from my counterpart in a moment. I suggest you refrain from further prevarications." T'Lar warned.
"Tell me about Jacob Rosen. Are he and my counterpart romantically involved?"
Baldric straightened, a curious expression drifting over her features despite her discomfort. "Why do you want to know so badly?" She asked narrowing her eyes as though she could see through T'Lars sincerity.
Outside the brig, Bonnie’s attention had begun to drift. The dagger rolled lazily across her knuckles as she watched T’Lar circle cautiously around the conversation instead of driving through it. Psychology. Emotional calibration. Questions layered beneath questions. Useful, perhaps, but slow.
Her expression flattened slightly. Then the name hit the air. Jacob Rosen. The dagger stopped. Bonnie’s eyes sharpened immediately, the boredom evaporating so fast it was almost visible. She straightened a fraction from the bulkhead, wrist display casting pale light across the edge of her face as she replayed the question silently in her head.
Romantically involved? Now that was interesting. Not because of affection. Bonnie had little use for romance beyond its tactical value. But attachment? Attachment was leverage. A weakness people wrapped around their own throats and called love.
A slow grin returned. Her thumb brushed once along the flat of the blade as she continued to watch in silence, suddenly much more invested than she had been moments before. If T’Lar had found herself emotionally entangled with a Prime universe counterpart of Jacob Rosen...
Bonnie could already see half a dozen ways that could end badly for everyone involved. Which made the scene worth watching.
T'Lar thought for a moment before answering Baldric's question; uncertainty asserting itself against her normally dispassionate resolve.
"Our Jacob Rosen died in what was deemed to be an 'accident' on the bridge... He and I were romantically involved at the time of the accident. I am simply curious as to whether or not your T'Lar and Rosen share a similar affinity for each other," she finally managed in a low voice.
"So this isnt about taking over my ship and making sure you're as correct snd up to date as possible?" Baldric parrotted, looking bemused and somewhat insulted. "But sure what the heck. Yes he's alive"
"Thank you for confirming that. But you still haven't answered my question about his relationship if any with my counterpart..."
"Look, they've both only been on onboard for a short while. If they're shagging in their off hours, I haven't heard about it" Baldric shrugged. It wasn't that far from the truth, she hadn't noticed anything but she also hadn't been paying attention.
T'Lar's practiced stoicism betrayed no disappointment. "I see," she said, "Thank you for your honesty. Moving on... What can you tell me about Bonnie Durnell?"
T'Lar had noticed the monitoring camera had been on for several minutes. She had no doubts as to who it was that was spying on her.
"You may as well join me, Bonnie," she said turning to address the camera directly.
Outside in the corridor, Bonnie’s grin vanished instantly. For half a second she simply stared at the wrist display, eyes narrowing with sharp irritation. The dagger stopped dead against her palm.
Clever girl. Bonnie exhaled once through her nose, almost a laugh, though there was annoyance threaded tightly through it now. The Vulcan was adapting faster than expected. That made her more dangerous. And far more interesting.
The doors parted with a hydraulic hiss as Bonnie finally stepped into the brig proper, unhurried and perfectly at ease despite having been caught. The dim lighting slid across the hard lines of her face while the dagger resumed its lazy turn between her fingers as though nothing at all had happened.
“Careful,” she murmured dryly while approaching them, “People are going to start thinking you enjoy my company.” Her eyes flicked once toward Baldric, assessing, predatory, then returned to T’Lar.
"I doubt that, particularly if they were to know that you like to skulk about like a peeping Tom. An inept one at that..." T'Lar countered coldly.
Bonnie’s dagger paused for the briefest instant before resuming its smooth rotation across her fingers. One eyebrow lifted slightly, the closest thing she offered to visible offense. “Mm.” Bonnie smiled without warmth. The insult did not seem to bother her nearly as much as the fact T’Lar felt she had earned the right to say it.
“As for Prime Bonnie?” Her mouth curled faintly. “There’s nothing this one can tell you that I don’t already know.” The amusement sharpened slightly. Her gaze settled briefly on Baldric again, studying the woman’s reaction with clinical curiosity.
"And how is it that you come to possess this knowledge about your counterpart?" T'Lar asked.
"Because we've dealt with them before" Baldric said darkly, recalling the mission to Bajor where the mirror counterparts were encountered. "From what I remember - we won"
Bonnie gave a quiet snort through her nose. “Tactical retreat,” she corrected lazily, the dagger rolling once across her knuckles. “You people are obsessed with declaring victory before the bodies even finish rotting.”
"That must have been before my time," T'Lar observed.
"Nonetheless, Ms. Baldric, if you are disinclined to discussing the differences in my appearance from my counterpart or discussing the particulars of Ms. Durnell's counterpart, that leaves just one thing for us to discuss... Dean House."
T'Lar let that hang in the air for a moment.
"You have indicated a romantic affiliation with Mister House, so I have little doubt that you are aware of exactly how he was able to track us based on his connection to Marie Batel. I am going to give you exactly one opportunity to enlighten me with the truth about the mechanism of that connection. Should you fail to do so I am going to lock you in the agony booth for an extended period of time. I could just mind meld you and be done with it but to be honest I really do not enjoy the process as much as you might think I would."
Bonnie grabbed a nearby chair and dragged it across the floor making a metallic scraping noise that pierced the room. She faced it backwards and casually sat in it in reverse, facing Baldric. The twisted smile, if you could call it a smile, on her face flashed briefly before fading. She was clearly enjoying the show.
The dagger spun once between her fingers before disappearing somewhere beneath her sleeve as though it had never existed at all. Bonnie leaned forward slightly, chin resting against crossed forearms, eyes fixed intently on Baldric now with all the attention of a predator settling in to enjoy itself.
“Oh yes,” she murmured softly. “Tell us about this ‘good shag’ of yours.” The words carried the shape of teasing, but the look in her eyes made it clear she was not interested in romance. She was interested in weaknesses.
Jennifer looked from one to the other - weighing her chances, her opportunity, and her percentage of survival against two of them if she didn't give them what they wanted. Still in the cell she couldn't escape, but they couldn't hurt her either without coming in to get her.
"He shags better than you will ever know," She retorted with just a glimmer of pride and self satisfaction. "Augments are the best shags."
"Augment?!" T'Lar repeated with surprise. "You are saying that Dean House is an Augment?"
She turned to Bonnie. "Do you realize the implications of this information? If the Prime House is an Augment, then that means there is a very good chance that our own Dean House is one as well. Remal will want to hear of this immediately."
Bonnie’s grin widened slowly, genuinely this time, amused by the spark of pride in Baldric’s voice. A soft laugh escaped her throat. “Oh, sweetheart,” she murmured, leaning back slightly in the chair. “You really don’t know your own history.” The dagger rolled once across her knuckles before vanishing back into her sleeve.
“The Prime Universe Earth fought the Augments. They feared them, contained them.” Her eyes gleamed faintly in the dim brig lighting. “Terra didn’t.” She tilted her head slightly, studying Baldric with open fascination now.
“On our world, the Augments won. They bred. Conquered. Spread themselves through the population until enhancement stopped being exceptional and started becoming inheritance.” Her voice stayed calm, almost conversational, which somehow made it worse.
“There’s augmented blood in nearly every Terran alive now. Stronger nervous systems. Higher pain tolerance. Faster reflexes. Easier dominance.” A faint smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Makes empire-building very... efficient.” She shivered delightfully. "I get tingles just thinking about it."
Bonnie leaned forward against the back of the chair again, eyes never leaving Baldric’s. “So believe me...” she said softly. “I can be a very, good, shag, when I want to be.” Her voice emphasized each word. Her tongue traced slowly along her upper lip. "Care to find out?"
"Human history is not something that is always shared in full detail with 'my kind'..." T'Lar observed.
"Particularly when it comes to genetics. As you may well imagine such information might be considered privileged knowledge. Nonetheless, I believe it is imperative that we understand the connection between their House's genetic enhancements and his connection to Batel. Tell me, Ms. Baldric, what exactly does Mister House's augment status have to do with his ability to detect Batel's body from half a quadrant away?"
"You're just jealous that you don't have all the answers," Baldric could smell the insecurity. She knew it would cost her, probably dearly, not just with the Vulcan, but with the MU Bonnie who seemed to slink in the shadows and throw the gauntlet down occasionally. "I won't give them to you."
Without warning T'Lar depressed the agonizer button, activating the collar around Baldric's throat, causing her to writhe and convulse in greater pain than she'd experienced thus far, and causing temporary paralysis. She then summoned the security officers back and instructed them to place the slumped form of the Prime Universe captive into the agony booth. T'Lar waited for movement to return to Baldric's limbs; waited til she was standing before addressing her further.
"I warned you what would happen if you did not answer my question on the first try. Understand that this serves no purpose other than to establish trust between us. If I tell you I'm going to do something, I need you to believe me. Still it brings me no pleasure to have to do this to you. I had hoped to make this interrogation a painless one, but you simply refuse to be reasonable."
T'Lar stepped over to the console and activated the unit, immediately causing Baldric's body to lock out in painful rigidity as the cycles of agony washed over her in unending procession. There was no let-up, no respite, no relief, only constantly escalating excruciating pain felt from her toenails to her hair follicles and all points in between. Ordinarily, a person would pass out from such pain, or run the risk of cardiac arrest, but the diabolical nature of the agony booth was that it prevented both such eventualities, keeping the victim awake the entire time and only making them wish they could die. Perversely, speech was not affected, making interrogation still possible. After several minutes, T'Lar approached the booth but did not deactivate it.
"Are you ready to tell me by what mechanism Dean House's augmentation is connected to his ability to track Marie Batel's location?"
Baldric screamed until she couldn't anymore, her entire being focused on the river of pain rippling through her veins like fire and ice together. She couldn't think of anything other than the pain. Still, she wouldn't, no, couldn't betray her crew, nor her partner.
"This is pointless, Ms. Baldric. I'm going to get the information one way or another. The question is how much pain are you going to endure before I get it? The outcome is not in doubt. You know it, and I know it. Why fight it? Tell me what I want to know, and this can all be over with right now." T'Lar implored dispassionately.
Jennifer drew a ragged breath in between clenched teeth, focusing her energy on forming coherent words. "I won't help you hunt my friends. I'd rather die". It sounded like the noble Starfleet officer, sacrificing herself for her crew. In truth, she was as scared as hell.
"Have it your way," T'Lar said, turning on her heel and leaving the brig abruptly with Baldric still in the throes of the agony booth.
TBC
RSS Feed