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Reflections of Another Universe

Author - Misplaced | Genre - Action/Adventure | Genre - Alternate Universe | Genre - MU CHALLENGE Fic | Mirror Universe Fiction Challenge | Rating - PG-13
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TRIP/T’POLERS MU FANFIC CHALLENGE

Reflections of Another Universe

By: Misplaced


Rating: PG-13 for mild violence, language and some sexual situations
Disclaimer: Nope, don’t own any of the Enterprise characters. I do this for free.
Genre: Mirror Universe, Action & Angst
Archive: Yeah, just let me know where.
Spoilers: “In a Mirror, Darkly”
Summary: The mirror universe crew of the NX-01 go on a mission to rescue a captured member of the crew… while trying to keep a mutiny on ship at bay.

A/N: I began writing this fic before some of the newer spoilers for the MU episodes were revealed, so it’s not exactly true to the spoilers… with the exception that my little fic only takes place in the mirror universe—where there has not been a Xindi attack on earth. There are no real universe characters in my story. Thanks to Triplover for being my beta!

Date: 4-13-2005

**************
Part 1 (Chapters 1-3)
*************

Chapter OneCAPTIVE

The man in the small rust-colored brig was furiously working. He had managed to pull a panel from the wall, and was up to his elbows inside of it. He reached deeper into the wall, sweat beading on his furrowed brow, a grimace on his lips.

The man looked to be in about his mid to late thirties, a little bit of grey tinged the sides of his sandy blonde hair, and small lines marked the skin around his blue eyes. A thin scar puckered his right cheek down to his jaw line adding severity to his appearance. He was a man that didn’t smile much. As he pulled his arm out of the wall with a fistful of wiring, a large patch bearing a fierce looking dagger could be seen on his blue-grey coveralls.

“Sonofabitch!” he cursed loudly after a while, standing up. He picked up the wall panel, and threw it at the door with a primal yell. It struck with a loud bang and clattered to the floor. He sat down dejectedly on his bunk, rubbing his eyes and sighing. Only a moment later, he looked around the room, his mind working again. He had decided on another plan of attack, and stood just as the door to the brig opened.

Usually he was poised to attack when the door opened, but he had been caught off guard. He muttered another curse as the door closed as quickly as it opened. It took him a moment to realize that someone had actually entered the small cell.

His guest, if that term could be used, stood before him, and surveyed the shambled state of his cell. In addition to the wall panel, wiring was strewn across the room. She raised one upswept eyebrow curiously.

A female, he thought, now that’s new. The wheels in his mind turned as he thought he might be able to get past her where he hadn’t been able to with her male counterparts.

“It is illogical to attempt to escape in this manner,” she spoke with a rich voice. For a brief second, he wondered if she had somehow read his mind. He thought he heard somewhere that her species had telepathic ability. She continued, “The components necessary for opening the door are not housed within the cell walls.”

“It’s something to pass time, darlin’,” he said with a snort. So, it bothers you that I make such a mess, does it? he mused. What was that? Did he just see a flicker in her eyes? Was she annoyed? No, he reminded himself, Vulcans don’t have feelings.

“Charles Tucker the Third,” she read off of a device in her hand that bore a slight resemblance to a PADD. And commence the interrogation; he smirked as he sat down on his bunk, leaning against the wall. Since his capture, he had been questioned almost every hour it seemed. At least this time he had a pretty face to look at during his interrogation. She was, indeed, beautiful—exotically so. Damn Vulcans, he thought as he brought himself back into the moment.

“Why was your ship in this sector of space?” she asked. Yep, it was the same question every time. Not that he expected anything else, but still, it was getting tedious. He gave her an enigmatic grin, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“That’s my little secret, darlin’.” There it was again, that flicker in her eyes. On second thought, this may turn out to be more interesting than he had originally anticipated. She stepped closer to him and looked down on him with a face of stone.

“Surely, you must understand that cooperation would be in your best interest,” she stated the fact coldly. He chuckled at her, the thought of ‘Like hell!’ prevalent in his mind.

“Whatever do you mean? I like things just the way they are, sweetheart.” Again, a fiery glint flickered in her eyes. Oh yes, this was definitely the most interesting interrogation that he’s had so far.

“Mister Tucker—“

Commander.

Commander Tucker,” another twitch around her eyes, “Commander Tucker, my name is Sub-commander T’Pol. I would prefer it if you would address me as such.”

“Oh, really?” asked Trip, loving how agitated she seemed to be getting.

“Really, Commander.”

“Only if you say please.” Her jaw tightened.

“Please, Commander,” she responded through slightly clenched teeth. There was no way in hell that he was going to play nice, but he still answered:

“All right, I’ll do my best.” She stared at him as if trying to gauge his honesty. Pretty eyes, he thought, such deep olive green that they could be mistaken for brown. Then he reminded himself that they were Vulcan eyes.

“I repeat my question: What was your ship doing in this sector?”

“And I repeat my answer: None of your damn business,” he replied with a look that would intimidate most humans. T’Pol was nonplussed.

“Commander, it is my business, as you say. This is Vulcan space. What were you doing in this sector?” Trip was tired of being asked this same question three times in the course of ten minutes. He grinned again, this time with much more of a leer to it.

“Maybe I was just looking for a nice piece of Vulcan ass, like yours.”


She backhanded him with more force than he thought any women, human or Vulcan, capable of. He tasted blood in his mouth and he was sure that she had fractured his cheekbone. Despite the excruciating pain that brought a tear to his eye, Trip couldn’t help grinning like an idiot. Vulcans can be cracked. It took him a moment to realize that she was leaving.

“I guess this means that I won’t be seeing you again,” he said as he wiped blood from the corner of his mouth.

“Undoubtedly,” she replied without turning to face him. She signaled for the door to be opened.

“That’s too bad,” he said, “I kinda liked you.” She stiffened, if a Vulcan could stiffen more, as she stepped through the doorway. She glanced back over her shoulder briefly just as the door was closing. Trip was sure he saw that fiery glint in her eyes once more. He was also sure that he would demand that she be her interrogator from now on. Let the games begin, he thought as his laughter echoed off of the walls.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

T’Pol stood on the other side of the door, caressing her green-tinged hand and flexing her fingers. It was stinging quite painfully. She could hear his laughter through the walls and it was disturbing. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of the guards looking at her expectantly. She shook her head slightly and his eyes darkened.

This was the first time that they had found humans in Vulcan space since the “Agreement” some forty years previous. The Vulcans had indeed made first contact with Earth when the humans had achieved their first successful warp flight. The relationship had been amicable enough at first, even with the humans being far less advanced technologically than the Vulcans. The Vulcans took on a mentoring role, but the humans desired to progress faster than the Vulcans counseled. Eventually the humans bristled under the Vulcan advisors and threw them off of Earth. Shortly after, the “Agreement” was reached and territory lines were drawn.

Vulcan had recently gone through a revolution with the discovery of the Kir’Shara. Between that and keeping the Andorians at bay, Vulcans had little time or interest in the activities of the humans.

So it was a surprise while on a routine tour of the L’Prin system deep in Vulcan space that they discovered a human warp ship. There had been weapons fired on both sides and eventually the human ship retreated. Only after that did they discover a shuttlecraft on one of the moons as well as a small team of three humans.

The Vulcans gleaned as much data as they could from the shuttlecraft’s computer, but there were no answers to what the humans were up to. The humans had now been in custody for their second day, but none of them were providing any answers either.

T’Pol had questioned all three of them, Commander Tucker last. They had all been rude, but for some reason it had only bothered her with the Commander. Perhaps it was just a culmination of the behaviors of the three of them that caused her to act out physically. Still, she had been in situations that could produce anything resembling discomfort far worse than what she felt when interrogating the Commander, and had kept a cool head. Odd.

She decided a cup of tea and some meditation was in order.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Archer sat at his desk fuming. He held a PADD in his hand but he wasn’t so much looking at it as burrowing holes through it. The captain was angry and someone was going to pay. The door chimed and he slammed the comm button with the palm of his hand.

“Who is it?”

“Lieutenant Reed,” the voice came over the speaker. Great, thought Archer. What does the little upstart want now?

“You may enter.” The door slid open to reveal the dark-haired Englishman. He was wearing a cold expression, but that was not unusual. Archer and Trip had speculated, during some of their more drunken moments, on whether or not Malcom wore that same expression while making love. The images it brought to mind made for raucous laughter.

“What is it?” Archer demanded roughly.

“We’ve returned to the coordinates, and the Vulcan ship is gone.” Archer felt a glimmer of relief, but quickly chastised himself. The Vulcan bastards had crippled his ship temporarily, but that was no reason to fear them—he should be eager to repay them for the kindness. Archer hardened his face, concerned that Malcom might have noticed the momentarily lapse. The security chief was an ambitious little man that would exploit any weakness in his commanding officer.

“And the shuttle—Commander Tucker?” he asked. Malcom hesitated only slightly, but not before Archer noticed.

“The shuttle is missing as well as Commander Tucker and his team.” Archer slammed his fist against the desk, toppling a stack of PADDs.

“Dammit!”

“Sir, I think we have to assume that the Vulcans have killed the away team.” There was a hint of hope in Malcom’s voice, and it grated on Archer. He stood up and walked over to the lieutenant, using his height to tower over him.

“Lieutenant Reed,” he spoke in a quiet but steely voice, “I didn’t ask for speculation.”

“I understand, sir,” replied Malcom through his teeth, a scowl plainly on his face. Archer stared him down a moment longer.

“Good.” Archer sat back down at his desk. “Have our sensors picked up their warp trail?”

“Yes.”

“Then why the hell are you standing there? Dismissed.” Malcom brought his fist to his heart and bowed his head slightly before he left the room. Archer crossed his arms over his chest, his jaw muscles flexing. He was going to find that Vulcan ship, and get his first officer back. And if the bastards had killed Trip, he was going to give them a lesson in revenge.


***********

Chapter TwoMANEUVERS

T’Pol sat at the table quietly sipping her tea. She was distracted by the thoughts of her earlier encounter with the human Commander. It disturbed her that he could make her feel—feel? There was that odd thought again. She dismissed it as she had before. She was a Vulcan, and very adept in her emotional control.

It was clear that he had made some sort of derogatory remark to her, although she wasn’t quite sure what “a nice piece of ass” meant, but the lecherous look on his face was explanation enough. She also was uncertain why she had resorted to physical violence at his comment. Perhaps it was because humans seemed to understand that method better than vocal communication. Yes, that must be the reason she struck him. Still… inside she felt—wait, there was that word again. Strange. This Commander Tucker had brought an emotion very close to the surface. It was a unique experience—a dangerous experience.

T’Pol pondered this for a moment, considering how illogical it was for her meeting with this human to have affected her in this manner. She realized that she most likely would not be interacting with him again. She took small comfort in the thought; however, there was a part of her that found the encounter intriguing.

Lost in her musings, T’Pol didn’t notice when the ship’s commanding officer sat down opposite of her. She looked up when he spoke, mildly surprised.

“You have met with the human leader.”

“Indeed,” she replied, “unfortunately he was no more forthcoming than in previous interrogations.” She noticed the disappointment in Koss’ eyes, even if it didn’t register on his face. His view dropped to her hand.

“Did he injure you?” The concern in his voice was evident, and she knew that it was not just as her commanding officer. He was also her betrothed, to be married when her tour aboard the V’Laran was complete. She enjoyed their working relationship well enough, but she had yet to develop any real attachment to him. That was irrelevant, however. Vulcan marriages were arranged in childhood.

“No,” she answered, “the human Commander required… corporeal discipline.” Koss raised his eyebrows at this. There hadn’t been any problems when others had questioned Commander Tucker before her. He left the question unasked, and T’Pol found herself more than a little relieved.

“Perhaps it is time that I question the human,” he said as he stood to leave. She gave him a slight nod, and returned to sipping her tea. As he left, she idly wondered what Koss’ experience with Commander Tucker would be like.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Trip sat in his bunk picking at the food that the Vulcans had given him. The first day he had refused to eat; he was sure they were going to poison or drug him. The guards had seemed concerned, oddly enough, that he was returning his plates untouched. The second day, one of the guards brought Trip’s scanner with his meal and allowed him to scan it. (Of course, the guard wouldn’t allow Trip to keep the scanner. Vulcan Bastards—that was becoming his mantra.) After that, Trip would eat their food, if he could scan it first. He had considered that they might have tampered with his scanner, but he doubted it. Besides, he was beginning to believe that he was worth more to the Vulcans alive than dead. At the same time, the thought of eventual torture had come to mind.

The door opened and for a moment Trip found himself hoping it was the Vulcan woman again. He was disappointed when a tall, regal-looking Vulcan male entered. Well now, Trip thought, this must be the captain. For just a second, he regretted his remarks to the female, sure that there was going to be hell to pay now. So be it, he thought as he steeled himself for a beating. The Vulcan’s eyes lighted on Trip’s cheek.

“Do you require medical attention?” he asked in a quiet voice. Now Trip was confused, medical attention?

“What? This little thing?” he said as he touched his cheek, “It’s nothing. I can hardly feel it.” Of course that was a lie; it took all he had not to wince as he spoke

“Very well,” the Vulcan replied, though looking as if he didn’t believe Trip, “Commander Tucker, is it?”

“The one and only—living that is.”

“What were you doing in this sector of space?” Trip rolled his eyes, and groaned inwardly. Chinese water torture was beginning to look like fun compared to this mundane repetition.

“What’s your name?” The Vulcan raised his eyebrow at the question. Trip sighed, “I’m a little shy—I don’t talk to strangers.”

“I am Commander Koss.”

“Koss, okay. Do you know what the definition of ‘crazy’ is?”

“I fail to see the relevance—“

“Just bear with me, okay?” Trip interrupted, “The definition of ‘crazy’ is doing the same thing over and over, and expecting different results.” Koss was quiet as he considered Trip’s words.

“I see. Are you implying that we should try a different line of questioning?” Trip smiled.

“Now you’re catching on.”

“Perhaps if you would enlighten us as to what line of questioning we should pursue…”

“Ah… now, that I can’t tell you.” Koss’ lips pursed faintly, but Trip cold tell that it was because the Vulcan was thinking rather than getting frustrated. No, he wasn’t getting to Koss like he was able to do with the woman. What was her name again?

“T’Pol”

“T’Pol?” Koss raised his eyebrows questioningly. Trip grimaced. He hadn’t realized that he’d spoken her name out loud.

“Uh, yeah,” he stammered, wondering why his face was burning a little, “I’ll talk to T’Pol—only T’Pol.” Koss was quiet again, lips pursed.

“I’ll consider it,” he said. Koss turned, and left Trip with his meal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Archer walked onto the bridge wearing a scowl. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hoshi and Malcom glance at one another, adding to the growing suspicion he had about the two of them. He wasn’t surprised. Malcom’s determination to get ahead knew no bounds, and Hoshi had a fiery spark in her. It had made love-making with her exciting, to say the least. Archer had never really harbored any idea that she had loyalties to him. Even so, Malcom would need to learn not to mess with the captain’s woman.

“Status,” he demanded as he sat in his chair.

“The warp trail appears to be leading to Vulcan,” answered Malcom.

“Ensign Sato?”

“We’re too far away to monitor any communications.” Archer pressed a button on his chair.

“Lieutenant Kelby.”

“Yes, sir,” he answered, sounding annoyed.

“We need to go faster.”

“The engines can’t take it,” Kelby snapped back.

“I didn’t ask for excuses, Kelby. Make it happen.” Everyone could hear the unspoken ‘or else’ in Archer’s voice. He switched off the comm before Kelby could protest further.

“Ensign Mayweather, increase speed to warp factor five.”

“Yes, sir” the young man answered with a feral grin. The boy seemed to thrive on speed and danger. Archer liked that in a pilot. He also liked that Mayweather’s greatest ambition was to pilot this ship, unlike the Brit in the back of the bridge.

“All right,” he said as he stood, “I’ll be in my quarters. Let me know if anything changes.” Again there was the unspoken ‘or else’ in his voice. He didn’t become a captain by being soft. As he stepped off the bridge, he began to calculate what he might do about Hoshi and Malcom.


********

Chapter ThreeUNCERTAINTY

Trip slept fitfully. His body was tensing, sweat gleaming on his skin…

Trip was lying on his back, unable to move. He could feel that his eyes were closed, but somehow he could still see. He felt naked, covered only in a sheet and something was on his forehead. He was in a bright room surrounded by blue-grey curtains. One of the curtains pulled back to reveal the Denobulan doctor, Phlox, who looked down on him with brilliant, cold blue eyes.

The rest seemed to happen in slow motion as Phlox raised his hand, revealing a large, jagged dagger. Phlox brought it high above his head, holding it with both of his hands. Trip tried to moved, tried to call out, but he lay completely still as Phlox brought the knife down on his chest. The pain sucked the breath from his lungs as everything went black. He heard a voice as if from far away above the din of loud screeching alarms:

“What have you done?!”

Trip shot bolt upright in his bed, gasping for breath. His hand instinctively went to his chest and he felt relief to find no wound there. It wasn’t the first time he had had this dream, or even the hundredth, but it still disturbed him deeply.

He rubbed his eyes. It must still be night. The lights in the brig were extremely dim. The Vulcans would dim the lights each “night” and raise them gradually each “morning.” Trip actually thought it was a good idea. On the Enterprise, the lights around the ship were at full strength at all times. Without a chronometer, it was sometimes difficult to tell when a day had passed. Come to think of it, Trip was pretty sure that Archer liked it that way. But, there was something to be said for Vulcan logic—at least in this case.

Trip looked up, and saw a shadow in the window of the door. When he stood to take a closer look the shadow disappeared. Probably my mind playing tricks on me, he thought as he rubbed his eyes again. Probably.

Being nowhere near sleep, Trip decided that it was probably a good time to resume his attack on the brig.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

T’Pol walked down the hallway wondering what had brought her to the brig in the first place. She had watched the human sleep, and was startled when he had awakened so suddenly. For a moment, she illogically thought that her presence had brought him out of his sleep. Of course not, she chastised herself. Humans were not telepathic. She knew that, and yet…. This is ridiculous, she berated herself. How can the human produce this effect in her? What was it about this Commander Tucker that had her thoughts so confused?

Koss had come to her after his discussion with the human and told her of Commander Tucker’s demand. Koss left the decision to her, although he was clearly concerned. She hadn’t decided yet. That must be why she had gone to the brig—to aid her in making that decision. Yes, that must be it. What other reason could there be?

She decided that she would continue interrogating the human. If he had said that she was the only one he was willing to talk to, then it was the only logical course of action. A strange and new tingling sensation began in the pit of her stomach.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Archer lay in his bed, a dim light illuminating his book, Julius Caesar. The book was worn and almost coming apart at the seams. He thought of it as a good warning to anyone in power: Trust no one. With Trip gone, and now Hoshi possibly conspiring against him, the Captain was beginning to feel like his allies were getting weaker. He loathed the idea of making more, but if the damned Vulcans had indeed killed Trip, he would have to.

The door chime buzzed, and he sighed. He knew who it was, and he wasn’t in the mood. Tonight he needed rest. He needed a clear head in order to deal with Malcolm and the Vulcans. The door chimed again. He got up, clad only in black underclothes. Hoshi would get angry if she had to press the button three times. Sometimes he let her push the button several times before he answered. It made things wild, but not tonight.

When he opened the door, Hoshi stood before him wearing a silk robe, and a pout. He leaned against the door frame and sighed.

“What? You don’t want to play?” she asked as she pushed past him, and into the room. He let the door close, but he didn’t move. She smiled at him wickedly as she let her robe drop, revealing red lingerie that he hadn’t seen before. Archer wondered if Malcom would see it later. He kind of liked the idea that the security officer would at least get the Captain’s seconds—or did he? The thought that Hoshi might visit Malcom first infuriated Archer. She must have noticed the change in his expression as her smile dropped a notch.

“Oh, so it’s going to be one of those nights,” she said as he walked up to her. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her up against him, hard. He leaned over, and spoke in her ear softly, but in a voice that made her shiver.

“Where were you before you came here?” Her breath caught, and he could feel a chill go down her body.

“My quarters, of course.”

“Before that?” he asked in a dark whisper. Hoshi tried to pull away, but he held her firm.

“The bridge, you paranoid bastard!” Oh, she was angry now. Too bad she couldn’t hide the faint tremor in her voice. So, he was getting Malcom’s seconds. Archer would take that—for now. He would use that knowledge to his advantage. He grabbed the back of Hoshi’s head with his hand and pressed his mouth over hers. When he finally let her go, she slapped him across the face.

He smiled. He was in the mood after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In Engineering, Lieutenant Kelby was in the second leg of his double shift and fairly angry. The captain had wanted to go faster, but couldn’t care less that the engineering crew had to pull double and triple duty to keep the engines from blowing up. In fact, Commander Tucker had never cared either. Kelby found himself hoping that the Vulcans had killed him. He had thought of challenging Tucker himself at times, but in truth the man scared him. Any man who would be able to… Kelby shuddered. Even the Captain was afraid of him, at least that was the rumor.

As Kelby was checking the stress on the engines, he heard the doors open. Malcom stepped into the room with the grace of a poised wildcat. He searched the room with his eyes until they settled on Kelby. A beguiling smile lit up his face as he walked over to the young man.

“Hello, Lieutenant,” said Malcom said cordially, “How is your evening going?” Kelby gave him a rueful grin.

“As well as can be expected, under the circumstances.”

“Have you had dinner yet?” At this Kelby laughed. Dinner? Had he even had lunch? Breakfast?

“Uh, no, sir.”

“I see,” replied Malcom, crossing his arms, “Perhaps you should take a break.”

Kelby looked at the security chief, and knew that wasn’t just a suggestion. He was a little wary about meeting with Malcom, having avoided the major politics on Enterprise during the last year. You choose the wrong side, and it could blow up in your face, literally. Kelby may not like the Captain or Tucker, but that didn’t mean he liked Malcom either. He knew it was coming eventually, though. Once Tucker was gone the balance of power shifted, but the question was: Was the shift significant enough? Kelby supposed that he was about to find out.

“All right,” he said.

***********

Part 2 (Chapters 4-6)

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A whole mess of folks have made comments

Woo! Three new fics in one day! And this is /superb/. Can't wait for more!

Great MU story! Looking forward to the next chapter.

Hu, hu, intriguing and great start. Please post soon!!

YAY I love it when there are loads of updates MORE MORE MROE..............

FANTASTIC!!!!!!!! A great fic!!!!!
I can't wait for more,please update soon!!!!!

SOoooooooooooo Trip was the real power on the MU Enterprise. I wonder what will happen to Capn Koss,,,I can only wish. Cant wait to see how this one turns out,,, and Hope T/T end up together some how,, Ok I always hope that.:)

Love it please update soon.

more, more, MORE!!!

You have created a darker and grittier MU and I can't wait to see how this story pans out. Was surprised to find Koss the Vulcan Captain and some interesting dynamics appearing. Keep up the good work! Ali D :~)

Oh, wow! This is really, really good. I can't wait to see more of it!

Excellent start, can we expect the real Trip and T'Pol to make an appearance?

Anyway, please continue soon!

Ooooooooooo! That was good! Can't wait for more! :)

Thanks for all of your kind comments, everyone... part 2 should be out soon (it's being beta'd as I write).

Unfortunately, those of you expecting a collision with the real Trip and T'Pol will be disappointed. This is strictly a MU fiction! When I started this, I was trying to stay true to the spoilers of "In a Mirror, Darkly" that there were at the time... Of course new spoilers have come out since then, so my story obviously doesn't follow that plot anymore---except for the fact that there will be no interactions between my MU crew and their RU (real universe) counterparts. Sorry.

Just look at this story as exploring how an MU T/T may or may not come to be. :-)