“Here come the woman with the look in her eye,
Raised on leather, with flesh on her mind,
Words as weapons, sharper than knives –
Makes you wonder how the other half die…”

Michael Hutchins

Captain Samantha Hyland’s confusion was abject, absolute and short – lived as she, and the handful of bridge – crew were snatched from the USS Valley Forge, only to find themselves re-materializing on the transporter pad of the ISS Albion to the unwelcome sight of a welcoming party that held them at gunpoint.

It was a confusion both dispelled and somehow compounded by coming face to face with herself.

There arrayed around the captives, Sam saw faces that she ‘knew’ from her time aboard the USS Albion. But where these familiar faces had once belonged to friends and colleagues, these self-same visages were as masks – mantling and obscuring the intent of persons clearly hostile and alien to her.

There – behind the Transporter controls – was Chief Herrera. In her ‘world’, the mother of three was as warm and gregarious a person as you could hope to meet. The person who wore Madeline Herrera’s face in this Universe had a cold and disinterested look in her eye. A long, pale scar bisecting that memory of a smile.

Standing with a Phaser-rifle trained on the prisoners, Trent Farrow (a Lieutenant aboard the USS Albion, plainly a Lt Commander here) held Samantha with a particular look of contempt and gave the impression that he would dearly like to depress the trigger stud and turn his targets to ash.

And most disconcerting of all, clad in a tight – fitting leather uniform, embellished with gold detailing, lounged the figure that wore Sam’s own face.

Sam’s Mirror – Universe Doppelgänger smiled thinly and spread her gloved hands wide in a mocking greeting as her familiar face was creased with a thin, unwelcoming smile.

“Finally face to face with me at last!” The Terran Empire officer sneered at her twin. “I can only imagine what the ship’s councilor would have to say about that! “Her smile took an even nastier turn, and she cocked her head and pouted.

“I have to imagine it as she won’t be saying much, since I had her flayed alive, anyway.” She raised an eyebrow in a ‘what-can-you-do’ gesture. “I don’t know about you Samantha, but I just don’t ‘do’ constructive criticism? It makes me just want to deconstruct the person that thought that they could offer it to me.”

The dark – clad woman stalked across the shining black deck, a feral predatory quality to her gait (that gave Samantha the uncomfortable impression of something feline and amoral stalking its prey in the night) and came to stand in front of her captives, whilst allowing her ‘welcoming party’ a clear field of fire.

“But where are my manners?” she clapped her black – gloved hands together. “I’m sure that they have those where you come from eh?” This last question was directed directly to Samantha, the tone and import left her in no question that all of their lives were in the most immediate and dire peril.

“Welcome aboard the ISS Albion!” The Imperial Starfleet Captain grinned nastily. “Somewhat of an improvement on your own ship, I’d imagine, where conditions are becoming steadily more…. well… you were there….so, you know?”

Sam knew that she had to stall for time.

Even as her mirror image taunted and mocked her from a position of haughty advantage, she was surely unaware that Sam had ordered the Chief Engineer to vent warp – core plasma from the USS Valley Forge; ostensibly to make it appear that the Excelsior II – class ship had sustained more damage than it had – but in reality to spring a desperate ‘Hail Mary’ ploy to spring a trap she fervently hoped wasn’t as plaintively obvious as it seemed and win her ship & crew a chance at escape.

She knew that the apparent vanity and cruelty of her ‘other – self’ was the key to success.

“Captain Hyland.” She challenged defiantly (reveling in how bizarre it was to even be speaking those words in address) “I demand that you cease hostilities at once and return myself and my crew to our vessel!”

With cold eyes, the other Samantha Hyland regarded her with a sense of alloyed disappointment.

“Sam, Sam, Sam….” She began in a sing – song mockery, designed to grate and indignate. “You don’t mind if I call you Sam, do you?” She waved her hand dismissive and barked a harsh laugh “Thing is, I can call you… yourself….? Myself…? Whatever! I can call you whatever I want, and do you know why?”

Samantha fought to remain impassive and said nothing, in mute defiance.

“I can do this because this is my ship…” The Mirror – Samantha began earnestly and reasonably, before exploding into a locus of rage that was so sudden, so intense in its vehemence – that even Sam was forced to take an involuntary step back on the transporter pad.

“AND I CAN DO WHATEVER THE FUCK I LIKE!” The Imperial Starfleet CO screamed – Sam getting to look at the incongruous image of her own face twisted into a rictus of fury and hatred.

Taken aback as she was, some part of her couldn’t but help to wonder what dreadful things had transpired in the life of this alternate version of herself – to make a person so twisted and filled with such hateful rage and violence?

As is nothing untoward had happened at all, the leather clad Captain smoothed an errant hair back in place and a radiant smile returned to her now placid, smooth features.

“So!” She smiled brightly and asked in a tone that was so innocent, that Sam was instantly on – guard. “Where are you from?”

Sam said nothing. It was clear that the vengeful version of herself already knew about Dr Gallian Makon (and harbored some grudge against her) and was aware of the existence of Hull-3185. Sam had no idea if the Imperial Captain knew for certain that the Test – vessel had the ability to tear apart and bridge the divide between dimensional – planes of existence; but what she was sure of was that whatever she told this (clearly unhinged) version – such knowledge would definitely not be used altruistically.

She decided to play dumb and see how much time that would buy her.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you mean.” Sam replied flatly.

There was a long, terrible pause as one Samantha Hyland looked the other squarely in the Icelandic – blue eye, then one nodded as if making a conclusion.

“Don’t…know…what…I…. mean?” The black – clad woman repeated slowly. Each enunciation of each word measures and leaden. She pursed her lips into a cruel, thin line – never taking her gaze from Sam’s own.

A sigh.

“Very well Sam,” that cruel line turning up fractionally at the edges, taut with displeasure. “In that case, let me show you exactly what I mean.”

She tapped her Commbadge (a sharp looking dagger bisecting a representation of planet Earth) and commanded.

“Captain to the bridge.” She barked with stern authority, in a voice that brokered no disobedience. “Status on the enemy vessel?”

~ “Shields’ failing. Estimated at 7 percent and falling. Warp core offline. She’s venting plasma into space. Another few seconds and she will be dust, Captain.” ~ the ISS Albion’s Tactical Officer responded over the channel, with obvious relish.

The MU – Samantha spoke, each word stabbing at her Federation counterpart.

“That’s what I mean!” She hissed with venom, taunting Sam with the destruction of her ship and crew.

The Mirror – Universe CO, turned to regard the captive members of Sam’s crew that had been caught up by the point – to – point transport that had ensnared them from their familiar bridge to this place fraught with present danger.

She pointed to Lieutenant Dolan, the Assistant – chief Science Officer, who stood miserably at Sam’s side.

“I imagine that there’s nothing more that you’d like, than to leave this place and rejoin your shipmates isn’t there?” the dark – Hyland asked reasonably.

Dolan gave no answer.

“Of course you do.” The captain of the Albion answered for her rhetorically. “Well, you can go then.” She waved her hand dismissively, like a school – teacher sending a child from the classroom.

Lieutenant Dolan looked confused, lost. She looked towards her own Captain, unsure of what was transpiring.

“BUT!” The leather – clad Samantha spun on her heel. “As you can see, were a little bit busy here, so I’m afraid you’ll have to walk!”

Dolan’s eyes widened at the sudden, terrible implication of those words as the Terran Empire officer pointed to Chief Herrera and commanded.

“ENERGIZE!”

Dolan got as far as turning to Sam and beginning to mouth a plaintive – protest, when the golden swirl of complex energies coalesced around her objecting form and instantly transported her (without the protection of an EVA suit) into the uncaring, cold and final embrace of space.

Samantha started forward, every instinct in her being burning at the very core, to end this nightmarish version of herself, no matter the personal cost.

The cost was a searingly painful lance of debilitating energy from one of the massed weapons trained upon her.

It felt as if the universe had exploded within the confines of her skull. Every nerve ending felt like it was on fire, whilst her limbs felt an incongruous and pervasive numbness and she collapsed onto the deck in a pool of her own urine.

It took a while for her to regain a measure of her senses and, when she did, the black – clad Captain Hyland was perched above her, resting on her haunches as she used her gloved hand to scoop some vomit from Sam’s mouth – almost tenderly.

“That’s what I mean.” She repeated softly, a moment both intimate and intimidating.

Sam could only stare back at herself, the Stun effect of the Phasers in this universe seemed specifically calibrated to inflect the maximum pain & suffering, compared to those in her own sphere of existence – where they were designed to purely incapacitate a target as humanely as possible.

“Now…” She asked herself as she wiped the leather glove on the Starfleet uniform of the incapacitated woman before her on the deck.

“…I’ll ask again.” She sounded the very embodiment of reasonableness once more. “You’re obviously not from here, otherwise I wouldn’t be having this charming little – chat with myself. So, and please do consider your response so very carefully, where are you from?”

With every muscle now starting to ache and protest, now that the visceral wave of nauseating pain had faded from her nerve – endings, Samantha managed.

“My name is Captain Samantha Hyland. I am a Starfleet Officer and commander of the USS Valley Forge, a vessel representing the United Federation of Planets.”

Displeased, the other Hyland gestured to the trembling form of Petty Officer S’Vrell on the Transporter Pad.

With a voice that spoke of her hatred for the young Vulcan and everything her species represented; Hyland sneered.

“Why don’t you go outside and check on your friend?”

And just like that, she had murdered yet another member of Sam’s crew, without even so much as a second thought.

“YOU FUCKING MANIAC! “Sam protested, but the other Samantha just pressed her back to the deck with one knee. “I’m telling you the truth dammit !”

“Maybe you are, maybe you aren’t.” The twisted version of herself sniffed with disinterest. “Can’t say that I honestly care either way.”

She pressed down hard on Sam’s chest, a sudden weight that drove all the breath from her lungs and she heard, then felt more than one rib give way under the pressure.

“But I hope that I am impressing upon you the fact that I am in control here?” She sneered as Sam’s face went from shades of red to purple as she struggled to breathe.

At that point the very deck that Samantha was pinioned to, by her sadistic – self, bucked massively below her as the ISS Albion was seemingly gripped and hurled by a gigantic hand. The power fluctuated wildly, and the emergency lighting came on – bathing the hellish science in an appropriate red – hue.

Blaring Klaxons signaled damage alerts and the Terran captain demanded furiously.

“BRIDGE! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!”

A pause, then the mawkish reply came over the channel – the speaker’s voice fraught with trepidation.

~ “The enemy vessel Captain!” ~ The ISS Albion’s Executive Officer reported urgently. ~ “Some sort of localized explosion between its hull and our own! Source unknown! Damage control reports that our own warp – core and targeting sensors are temporarily offline!” ~

“Well GET them BACK online and destroy that ship!” the alternate Samantha Hyland screamed into the comm – channel, her face a rictus of fury and rage as she stood – finally letting Sam breathe in grateful, whooping breaths of air back into her lungs.

~ “Negative Captain!” ~The XO responded miserably ~ “Somehow the enemy vessel has managed to restore partial power to her systems and is going to warp. Helm calculates her present course and heading will take her into …. the Antaari – Nebula!” ~

Like a vengeful titan, the black – clad Samantha Hyland towered above her prisoner, her very being a seething thunderhead of black rage.

“Seems like you’re not as totally in control as you’d like to think you are, are you Samantha?” Sam Hyland managed defiantly, through cracked ribs and aching lungs.

It was a small victory and little personal comfort to herself – but the resulting explosion meant that Commander Talland had succeeded in igniting the Warp – Plasma by polarizing the USS Valley Forge’s Hull – plating and channeled the resulting energetic – discharge back into the open Warp – manifolds to jumpstart the Excelsior’s warp core.

Definitely not text-book and highly unadvisable, such a gambit would have any self – respecting Starfleet Engineer in a fit of apoplexy (in some ways it was a kindness that Lieutenant Isono wasn’t aboard her right now) and the resultant systems damage attendant from such a rash stratagem would likely require subjective days of repair.

But it had brought her ship and crew a fighting chance to escape and live to bring the fight another day.

The Terran Empire Captain howled a scream of pure animal fury and planted a vicious kick into the side of Sam’s chest, stunning her absolutely as pain exploded in her remaining ribs and drove all thoughts of defiance from her labored – mind.

“TAKE HER TO THE AGNONIZER!” She bellowed at her assembled crew.

Rough hands grabbed at Sam as the ceremonial honor-guard hauled her, unceremoniously, from the deck.

With an air of thin bravado to cover up the fact that she had been outplayed (by herself no less), Hyland whirled around on one high – bootheel and stalked angrily towards the exit of the transporter room. As she departed, she added.

“Someone go to the Bridge and execute Commander Braylen.” The MU Samantha sneered matter – of – factly.

“The first to do so can have his job. It’s high time that I had an XO with some fight in them!”

The security party considered this obviously poisoned – chalice, before Lieutenant Commander Farrow stepped forward with a calculating look on his face, obviously considering himself worthy of the challenge to climb the bloodied rungs of the ladder that led to promotion.

“What do you want us to do with them?” Farrow jerked his head to where the remaining survivors of Samantha’s hijacked bridge crew remained.

The vengeful Samantha Hyland narrowed her cold – blue eyes and hissed with irritation.

“If you want to be my right – hand Farrow, “She challenged with a tone dripping in scorn and derision, “just maybe you’d like to consider exhibiting just a modicum of initiative once in a while?”

As she strode out, she waved a hand to the assembled security detail.

“Execute them!”