The Dual Duel Mentality

[Victria 0]

Deck 18. Mark and Victria moved silently moves through the shadows like oil on water. They had been tracking transient sensor contacts for the last twenty minutes, and over three decks. Whoever it was certainly didn't want to be found, which only formed a pit in Garrison's stomach. The majority of the crew were by now in their quarters, awaiting blood screens to prove that they weren't changlings. It didn't help matters that the changling theory didn't really hold up in his book, with the evidence, and Victria's own words that she hadn't scented them...or anything the last time they had tried to track a contact down.

 

Still, the impending doom possible around every corner was better than the scene he'd just gotten out of in sickbay. Doctor Zier must have just had her baby, because as he and Victria had walked in, there was crying, screaming, and various fluids all over. With nothing out of the ordinary, they had left, but after seeing Victria with a newborn, the phrase "Fresh Tapped" took new meaning to him.

 

Victria paused as they neared the next corridor junction, either scenting or hearing something that piqued her interest. She had been extremely disgruntled when Mark had pulled her away from the appetizing smells in Sickbay, but she was fairly certain that no one would have let her sample newborn innocence anyhow. Still, the momentary thought had been entertaining.

 

Back on the Hunt, her thoughts and senses were fixed firmly on their current prey, even though she'd seen no signs of intruders. There was something happening and she was fairly certain that it had nothing to do with changlings. There were no traces of changlings. She would have caught their stink lightyears away. Her lips curled back off her fangs as she peered around the corner and discovered... absolutely nothing. Attention snapping back to Mark, she growled. "This is pointless. We are tracking ghosts."

 

"Maybe..." He trailed off as he poked his head around a corner, searching for hostiles in the corridor, but finding nothing. "If it is, we're at least avoiding the shipwide hysteria of a potential changling incursion, or whatever." He frowned as he looked back to her, his true worries surfacing. "But assume these sensor contacts are real. We tracked them through almost all of Deck 17. They left both the deflector and environmental controls untouched, why? Whoever it is, they know the ship well enough to have avoided us this long, but why not sabotage?"

 

"If not sabotage, then what? They have to be here for some purpose." She rounded the corner and continued, checking her data padd for the next reported sighting. "I've entered the data into the computer a hundred different ways and there is no pattern to these appearances. No significant ship or security breaches and no instances of violence or attacks... only sightings. And conversations. Hallucinations?"

 

"Possibly." Mark hated to be so...perplexing, but they really had no idea what was going on. Hell, even he'd been sighted running around with LtCdr pips on. "Still, I was never married, and I doubt Geoff hallucinated that." A moment of sorrow and regret stabbed at his mind, but he pushed the thoughts of her away. Now was not the time.

 

As they passed the sections where the secondary shield generators were kept, Victria paused again and peered down the empty corridor behind them. "This isn't right... something is..." She let the sentence trail off, unable to put a name to the odd feelings she was getting. "We should move to another deck. There is nothing here of much importance save environmental controls. Most of the sightings have been in the areas most frequented by the crew."

 

He considered the options a moment before nodding in agreement. "Alright, lead the way. This is turning into one massive goose chase."

 

 

 

Deck 5. Entering the empty Main Lounge was an eerie sensation. Tables and chairs had been left in disarray, hastily abandoned as crewmen were ordered to report to their quarters until all testing could be completed. Standing just inside the door, the two of them scanned the area quickly, but results were as uninformative as those previously taken. They separated and headed around the perimeter in opposite directions to cover the area more quickly, working in tandem as expertly trained security officers should. Once the circuit was completed, Victria closed her tricorder and shoved it back into her belt, peering at Mark to see if he'd found anything. Feeling uneasy still, she glanced around the room again, wondering if there was something unseen in the room or if she were simply going mad.

 

He glanced around the room, like her looking for threats as he moved over to where she was standing. Something just didn't feel right. Off key, or something like that, ever since they'd gotten back from shoreleave. Of course, all this overtime running around with her was a nice plus, but in a situation like this, he knew which head he had to think with. "You feel it too?"

 

"Yes,” she hissed, turning at the sound of the door opening behind them. Mark Garrison stood in front of her. And Mark Garrison stood behind her. Everyone froze. In the hallway, a second Victria appeared, yelled in fury, and then all hell broke loose.

 

Victria – the real version – grabbed the Mark-intruder by the uniform and flung him behind her into the lounge for his double to handle. Though the movement took no more than a split-second, she did not have enough time to prevent an attack from her own twin. A well-placed punch impacted with her jaw and sent her staggering.

 

 

 

Garrison. Mark, the real Mark, looked like a deer in the headlights. He didn't even have time to smirk at Victria's hiss before well, things stopped making sense. A door opened, and at the other end stood him...but not him, obviously. The other had a beard and an artificial right arm. Before Garrison even had time to react, his bearded double was flying at him, sending both crashing to the floor.

 

Both Marks were up by then and had settled into their stance, both wielding their custom phaser pistols and combat knives. They awkwardly circled each other, having ended up the cluttered tables and chairs of the dining area. They stared each other down, trying to make sense of the situation. The bearded Mark attacked first with a ferocity the other didn't know he had. However, the other had over extended himself. The original parried the knife strike and used the momentum to bring his elbow into the others ribs, eliciting a lung-emptying gasp from him.

 

In the end though, it was the original Mark who fell into the trap. Allowing himself to take the shot to the ribs, the other Garrison held Mark at a disadvantage. He pressed it, wrapping his right leg around our Garrison's while pushing him forward, sending Mark crashing to the ground with an 'Oof!.’

 

He quickly rolled back, out of the tables into the open standing area by the door. He reset his stance while fighting the urge to glance back at the Victria's fight. This time they got a good opportunity to observe each other. The other Mark was completely identical to him, sans the beard and replacement arm. His eyes were cold, at least colder then he thought his looked. Garrison found himself distracted, wondering how it was even possible. There was no way this was a changeling. He knew CQC as well as he did, it was almost like staring into a mirror.

 

Determining how was an issue for the science department though. Right now, the other him was a hostile, and had to be treated as such. It wasn't really him anyways, no matter what the hell this turned out to be. Garrison rushed his doppelganger grabbing his right arm, pulling the other to him while bringing his knee into his stomach. He then continued his pull, sidestepping as the bearded one fell to the ground.

 

The other one rose swiftly however, and lunged at Garrison again. Obviously Mark had misjudged him. He seemed to understand the basic principle, but he left himself open in too many places. Mark let himself fall backwards into the attack, raising his left arm to block the other one's right arm, which was thrusting at him with the knife. He quickly thrust the knife that was in his free hand between the bearded ones left ribs, collapsing his lung. As they landed, he jerked the knife out and rolled the other Mark over who was violently gasping. He hurriedly rolled on top of him, pushing the knife up into his heart, ending the torment.

 

Mark instantly jumped off, this reasoning doing nothing to help the disturbing nature of what he'd just done. He took two shaky steps back as he stared at his double, eyes vacantly staring at the ceiling. A long moment passed before Victria suddenly flashed forward in his mind, and his eyes darted around the lounge, trying to find her.

 

 

 

Victria. Enraged, Victria had righted herself and returned the attack, grabbing her other self and spinning her into the room where she had room to maneuver. The two versions crouched identically, staring across the space at one another. There were subtle differences in their manner and clothing, but there was no doubt that both of them were Victria. They hissed at the same moment and attacked, though both shifted in the same direction and countered each other easily, ending where they'd started. Two sets of eyes narrowed identically.

 

Elsewhere in the room, she heard the sounds of Mark’s battle but had no time to spare him a glance. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. But could she? How could she battle someone that knew what move she was going to make before she made it? She studied her counterpart carefully, only slightly disconcerted at being scrutinized in the same manner. This was no changling. The only explanation was that she was from an alternate reality. Rationally thinking, Victria decided that when the most effective reaction was no longer effective, the ineffective must be the logical choice. Rather than launch another attack, she straightened slowly into a non-threatening posture. Her twin seemed confused.

 

Victria smiled, baring her fangs at the other, not in greeting but as a warning to maintain her distance. “You are Victria?”

 

“Yes. Victria?”

 

“Naturally,” she replied. “They rescued you.”

 

“Captured, you mean,” her twin hissed back. She grabbed the collar about her neck and ripped it free. “Captured, enslaved, and subjugated. On my ship, removal of this device would have caused an immediate response from security.”

 

“An Al-Ucard enslaved without fighting to the death?” Victria arched an eyebrow, surprised.

 

“I doubt that you were taken willingly,” she spat. “I was given a choice to live or die. I chose to live and wait for my chance to escape.”

 

“An unwise gamble, it seems.”

 

“Perhaps. Perhaps not.”

 

They continued to watch each other warily; neither wanting to look away for fear the other would take advantage of the momentary lapse. The tension grew as the sounds of Mark’s fight continued. Violent gasping coming from his general direction made it impossible to continue their standoff, however. They both glanced over at the same moment, just in time to watch Mark kill his counterpart. Victria stared, opened mouthed, amazed by the look of viciousness in Mark’s eyes as he killed his double. Distracted, she missed her own twin’s movement until it was too late. The collar snapped around her neck and she was shoved forward. She fell to her knees next to the corpse of the pseudo-Mark Garrison.

 

“Kill her!” Victria’s double shouted.

 

Eyes wide, she watched in disbelief at Mark as he leveled his phaser at her head.

 

 

 

The choice. Garrison's eyes bore into hers as he sheathed his knife. His eyes darted between the two Victrias as he stepped to side with the one standing, keeping his weapon aimed at the kneeling version. His grip on the phaser tightened as he leaned his head toward the uncollared Victria.

 

"How do I know it's you?" His eyes were still cold as steel, ready to strike in a moment’s notice.

 

"Can't you tell?" both Victrias asked in unison, wearing the same glare.

 

He turned his head to shoot a glance at her, before slowly returning his attention to the collared one. The other Victria's eyes turned to her kneeling duplicate for a fraction of a second, giving him the momentary distraction he needed. He moved his left leg behind her and then grabbed her wrist, violently pulling her backwards. As she tripped and fell he turned, baring his phaser on her chest and stunning her before she hit the ground. He'd killed his copy. They needed someone to provide answers as to what the hell was going on.

 

Mark let out a small sigh as he turned back to the real Victria, extending a hand down to her to help her to her feet. "I guess she never considered a universe where she'd bonded with a human."

 

She took his hand, quickly being pulled up. "That was risky."

 

He shrugged as they both searched for the releasing mechanism on the collar. "I knew who was who the moment I saw you both. If you wanted someone dead, you would kill them yourself, weapon or no weapon… not wait for me to do it. Besides, this way I was able to deliver the first strike."

 

He found the trigger behind her neck. The collar quickly popped off and fell unceremoniously to the ground. They locked eyes for a moment, the ferocity in his replaced with his usual calm. "I’ll contact the bridge. Segami and the Captain are going to need to see this."

 

“They had better hurry if they want a look before these two disappear. Whatever is causing this phenomenon is extremely random.” She bent to grab the collar at her feet, turning it over in her hands as she studied the technology.

 

The smallest of smirks traced the corner of his mouth as he tapped his comm badge, if only at the sheer irony of it all. Every day on this ship seemed to get a little bit stranger.