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Round 1 Lt. Tan & SbCmdr Mapak - We All Have Our Secrets... (exp

Sedrin Belasi

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(( Outside the Ventral Battlebridge, USS Independence-A ))

m-Velana: I've already killed you once; it didn't take.

Mapak: oO Well, better luck next time! Oo

:: Alleran shrugged the stunned Trill off his shoulder. The stunned woman landed in a heap at Velana's feet. ::

Mapak: I don't care, as long as I get THAT Trill. You can kill the other me if you want... and I'm just saying, let's rush through there. Murder everyone.

m-Velana: That is perhaps the most illogical plan your parasitic brain has ever...

:: She stopped, seeing something. Mapak was on such a high he didn't care.::

Mapak: If you kill him, just make sure you finish the job this time, okay?

:: Alleran began moving towards the door, disrupter in both hands, glancing at Velana as if waiting for her to follow him. ::

m-Velana: Go! Now!!

:: Together, they covered the short distance to the ventral bridge doors. But once they stepped inside, their weapons disappeared in the blue haze of a force field. ::

Tan: ... doooooor...?

:: Amada was already in the same predicament as them, although the captain still appeared to have her weapon. This bridge had a few scattered officers, but all Alleran cared about was the lack of disrupter and the lack of dead people he'd create. ::

Mapak: [...].

Tan: [...].

::Velana glanced at Shannon.::

m-Velana: We had no choice. They were closing in on us from behind.

Amada: ::to no one in particular:: Is there a Julia Amada amongst your crew?

:: The Vulcan T'tala [...]ed her head. She was sure she knew most of the names of the Independence crew, but also felt it was not her place to talk... ::

Amada: ::a little louder this time:: Is there a Julia Amada amongst your crew?

T'tala: Not to my knowledge. I'm- :: the woman caught herself. So informal...! The mind-meld again... it was affecting her... :: ... *I am* not certain.

Amada: Is there a Julia Amada in your prime universe?

Anyone: response

Amada: I see. ::pensive:: Then it wouldn't violate any law of physics should I choose to remain on your ship and return with you to your universe.

:: Mapak raised a single eyebrow at that. Weren't they here to loot the ship? Was Amada switching sides? She'd die for that. ::

m-Velana: ::through her teeth:: With a little warning, this could have been avoided.

::Ignoring Amada for the moment, Mapak turned his attention back to the rest of their duplicates. The Romulan-ish looking woman chuckled at the image of them all standing there. Mapak, for his part, gave the woman a distinctive leer. ::

::Mapak made a wide, smirking grin. ::

Mapak: Seems we're at a stalemate...

:: His comment seemed right on the money... the Romulan acted with predictable results. ::

Walker: Stalemate? You think so huh?

:: A few taps and a blue flash around the duplicate deprived him of their metal weapons, including his precious dagger, but hopefully not- ::

(( FLASHBACK: 2385, apartment on Cardassia Prime, Mirror Universe ))

:: Fire. ::

:: It was an assassination attempt. He was drinking -- Mapak was always drinking -- and someone had thrown a device about the size of a ping-pong ball through the open window of his apartment, which had quietly emitted a flammable gas, followed by a spark. The first inkling he had of something going wrong was searing pain all over his body, surrounded by fire on all sides, including the walls... ::

:: Hell of way to wake up. ::

:: Fortunately, he had run himself a bath the night before and left the water in. Staggering, scorched and blind, over to the water he threw his body into the shallow liquid. ::

:: Flakes of roasted, spotted skin floated to the surface. It was agony -- similar to the agony booth, but less focused -- because of his experience Mapak was able to think through the agony of feeling his cells die in the tens of thousands all over his body from the heat. ::

:: In this universe, you either acted, or you died. Mapak had lasted this long... ::

:: Yanking a towel into the rapidly heating water, Mapak wrapped the soaked cloth around his head and made a blind sprint for the window. As he ran through the roaring sheets of flame his skin seemed to melt right off him in the face of the intense heat; he shielded his face as best he could, but already it started to melt and stuck to his flesh, burning him even further. ::

:: With a crash he burst through, fell two stories down to the garden below. He would have died from the fall alone, but a thick shrubbery broke his fall. ::

:: Perhaps he'd crossed someone he shouldn't have, perhaps he hadn't crossed someone who'd been a little quicker off the mark. All he knew is that when he woke in the Cardassian hospital, the list of prosthetics was as long as his now cybernetic arm. If he wasn't an agent, he'd be left to die. ::

:: Ironically, his heart was one of the few organs that hadn't been affected in some way, but Velana's dagger had seen to that about a year later... ::

(( Flashback ends ))

:: The transporter took his "possessions", which included the foot-long dagger strapped to his belt -- the spare little knife he kept in his boot, the disrupter in his hands, the one stuffed into his *other* boot, the stun grenade he kept stuffed down his pants (that was a little joke to himself; the gear in his pants was *stunning*)... so all his weapons. ::

:: Fortunately, it wasn't enough to take his -- ::

Walker: How about now?

:: With a few more taps there was another blue light, which lit up his face, chest, left arm and back. When it faded, the "Alleran" that remained was positively ghoulish. It appeared as though he had been... less than honest about the number of prosthetics he carried and the metal content of those

"extras". ::

:: The metal faceplate which occupied the left half of his face where skull used to be, along with the rubbery false-skin that covered and disguised it, was transported away -- revealing a horrid criss-cross of muscle, tendons, and the last of his jawbone on that side, exposing a view straight into his

mouth through where his cheek used to be. What remained of his left arm, which was almost entirely prosthetic, hung by a thin thread of skin -- the bones, plastic and surgical tritanium, were gone now, so the appendage simply flopped by his side. Fortunately he kept some function in his right arm, despite the missing skin, which casually rested itself on his hip. ::

:: His left eye was an empty socket. ::

:: The flow of blood down most of his body was ignored. It didn't hurt and wasn't too serious; most of those blood vessels had since closed anyway. He knew also that, while it would prove fatal in short order, Mapak couldn't let weakness show. The majority of the missing skin was, after all, on his shoulders and chest -- which were safely concealed beneath his clothing, which somehow the transporter hadn't taken. ::

:: More's the pity. Seeing Amada, Velana and/or Shannon without a stitch on would be worth the beating they would inevitably deal out, or a slow death by blood loss. ::

:: Giving the Romulan woman an absolutely ghoulish smile with half his face missing, Mapak licked his tongue over his molars, which would be visible in the giant hole of his left face. When he spoke, it was with the pronounced lisp that came with having half your face missing. ::

Mapak: ... ohhhhhh, take my clothes too, you delectable little pointy-eared bundle of sexilicious fun... hell, let's just forget all the hate and just have a little *fun* shall we? After all, we're even now, and you can take my word that I'm not missing anything *below* the waist, so-

:: That apparently pushed the Romulan woman right to the edge, her face twisting into a vicious snarl which Mapak found absolutely adorable. ::

Walker: Please. Please push me further. Who knows, maybe the transporters will work enough to send you to the brig. But you have torn apart my ship, I don't even want to think about what you've done to it's crew, and have the audacity to say we're even? No. No more. You'll sit down, answer any questions asked and say NOTHING else unless you want your next breath to be inhaling vaccum. Got it?!?

:: The Prime Alleran cupped his hand over his mouth, horrified. Mapak craned his head and blew him a kiss with half his lips, which caused the Prime-universe Trill to look away with a shudder. Mapak turned his attention back to Walker. ::

Mapak: Sitting will be difficult, but I'll be passing out shortly. Will that do?

Tan: :: muttering:: I think I'm going to be sick...

Walker: Fine. But these fvai ruined my ship, they are not going to threaten or taunt us any more.

:: Mapak glanced beside him, the macabre grin on his face specifically intended to be as grisly as he could manage. ::

Mapak: I guess we all have our secrets, don't we, my dear? How about a kiss?

Anyone: Response?

:: Mapak rolled his shoulders, dark blood seeping through his clothing throughout his chest, still acting oblivious to his injuries despite the waves of agony suddenly being deprived of a large portion of his skin caused at every motion. He felt like just keeling over unconscious, but that would

be tactically disadvantageous so he elected not to. ::

Mapak: It burns like the fire of a thousand suns, actually, but after the agony booth pretty much *nothing* phases you any more. Blood loss helps. The infection's going to be a killer, though...

:: Silently, Mapak hoped that Shannon would be too shocked and horrified to question how all that expensive Klingon/Cardassian implant technology might have found its way into his body. He gave Luna a wink with his empty eye socket. ::

Mapak: I don't suppose you could help me out, my green blooded little sweetcake? You know, return my organs before I die and all?

:: The irony of him, only minutes ago, being prepared to tear out the Trill woman's symbiont -- and still being eager to -- was not lost on him, but he just didn't care. ::

Anyone: Response?

Tag! TBC...


PNPC Subcommander Alleran Mapak

Undercover for the Klingon/Cardassian Alliance

Mirror Universe


Lt. Alleran Tan


USS Independence-A

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