voiceshall_echo

So, Shego's pissed. Last couple of days - not so great. Anticipating the armchair psychiatry Kirk's going to subject her to re. having turned into her archfoe? The idea makes her brain itch. And she's on her way to the infirmary, kindasorta planning to bug McCoy until she's good and distracted, when she's aware of the sounds of a common room being wrecked.

Quick backtrack. Aaand everybody's favourite bald clone would-be warden-drowner is having some sort of fit. Her eyes narrow.

"Yo. Go trash your own stuff, sport."

Shinzon glanced over his shoulder long enough to sneer at her before returning to the table he was steadily breaking apart. "Leave." It was the only warning he'd bother to give; he's rather his boot connect with flesh than wood. There was more satisfaction in listening to bone crunch.

Shego smiled. She had her phaser on her - it was easier to keep contraband on her person in case her room got broken into, ship full of kleptomaniacs and all - but, well. She could forget about that.

"What're you gonna do, drown me? Oh no, wait, I'm like twenty years too old for that." She clenched her fists. "Knock it off."

Snapping off a leg of the table, Shinzon turned and threw it in her direction, aiming to miss by a hair. He glowered - and wondered why she was green - and glowered some more,lip curled. "You will leave, or you will be silent."

Despite herself, she flinched a little when the table leg whistled past her ear. Darn it.

"How's about 'none of the above'?" She put her hands on her hips. "Listen, I wouldn't care and all? But dealing with stuff like this is technically my job. So I'm giving you a choice. Go sulk in your room, or get your unconscious butt thrown in Zero. Your decision, slick."

Shinzon wasn't so good with ultimatums. They pissed him off. A lot. Sweeping the tail of his coat to the side, he stepped over the mess he'd already made, heading toward her. "My name," he said coldly, "is Shinzon." He had no intentions of disappearing into anonymity ever again.

Shego grinned and her hands flared, green energy flickering from her fingertips. She'd had a quick look over the network since getting back to herself - Kimmy had paid attention to entirely the wrong kind of stuff.

"Sorry. Last couple days gave me the impression that Picard Jr. would suit you better."

Pausing long enough to break off another leg and eye those glowing hands, Shinzon snarled and darted forward. He held the stake of wood at his side, feinting to his left and swinging it toward her head at the right. "I'll kill you."

Shego laughed, not even caring when the first blow struck true - he was pretty quick for a bald emo kid, and by the time she'd figured out his move he was able to take out a chunk of her hair and open a shallow gash on her forehead. She swung back for a second and then lunged forward, aiming a series of quick blows, barely strengthened by her powers. She didn't want this over quickly.

"You are weak," he snarled, though the punches pushed him back. Shinzon was not formally trained, but it had never mattered for him; he had learned to be formidable in the mines, and his campaigns made him all the stronger. Blocking her next attack, Shinzon shifted, turning into her to throw his elbow at her throat. He had no designs of carrying this on; all he wanted was to wrap his fingers around her throat and squeeze until his hands touched over the remnants of her ruined spine.

She moved, enough to avoid getting her larynx crushed but not enough to evade the blow completely; she spluttered at the contact, staggering back and clutching at her throat, her eyes watering.

"Son of a-!"

"Son of nothing." Really, he could probably have this conversation himself, he's certainly been thinking it long enough. He didn't leave her room to breathe, throwing a fist at her cheek. Later, he thought to himself, he'd have to remember to ask why she was green.

The punch landed with a solid crack against Shego's cheek and threw her back against the wall hard. The room spun round a few times; she was faintly aware of blood dripping down her forehead and over her stinging cheek. She braced herself against the wall with both hands, straightening a little, and started laughing.

"That all you got, junior?"

Hefting the piece of wood in his hand, Shinzon snarled and moved forward again, arm held out at his side. The tip was sharp enough to use as a knife - and he had a certain fondness for knives. Once he was close enough, Shinzon snaked his arm forward, aiming the point for her mouth. Silence, was it so much to ask?

Shego grabbed his forearm with both hands, stopping him less than an inch from her lips. Too close. He was stronger than she was used to working with. Solidly braced between him and the wall, she brought both legs up, lancing her feet towards his stomach.

He saw what she was doing too late, and felt the air escape his lungs. Resisting the urge to gasp, knowing that despite his body's desperate calls for air, he would be fine. Shinzon grabbed for her ankle, yanking his arm back. If he could break a bone or two, make it harder for her to maneuver, this would be over shortly.

Shego's ankle exploded in pain - dislocated or broken, dear Christ, please not broken - and she howled, her body hitting the floor in an untidy pile.

Screw him, this wasn't fun any more. Her powers were still nowhere near breaking-through-walls strength but the full-strength concussive blast she hurled at him would give him something to think about - if it didn't plain knock him out first.

Satisfaction struck him as she fell - but that green light bloomed again, and before Shinzon could dodge to the side, it struck him in the chest. He was forced back several feet, breath knocked from him again. Perhaps he owed the Romulans some thanks; after being thrown around the mines, he knew how to fall. Limp enough to soften impact, his hands hit the ground first, absorbing some of the shock to his body. There was a moment's hesitation before he could force himself up, but he did get up.

The table leg had flown from his hand. Instead of searching for it, he started forward - warily, not wanting to be hit by such a curious weapon. Maybe later, he'd ask about that too. after he killed her for intruding on his solitude, of course. "Not such a joke any longer, is it?"

Shego propped herself up on one elbow, her free hand glowing. She couldn't move so much, but she had a very real means of keeping him out of arm's reach.

He was still upright. That was...impressive. Creepy, but impressive.

"Still seems pretty funny to me, Junior. You wanna see how many more of those you can take?"

A vein near his eye twitched, and he feinted right, moving to her left, trying to get behind her. A broken neck would end this quickly - he just had to avoid those blasts long enough to accomplish the task. "Shinzon," he snarled. This was Picard's fault, it was all because of him, killing him just wasn't enough. If he tried hard enough, maybe he could imagine Jean-Luc in her place.

By the time he started moving, Shego had already gone for her pocket, fingers sealing around the shape of the phaser. So she was playing dirty. Using her powers wasn't much cleaner. She twisted away from him - enough to confirm that her ankle was very much broken, thank you - and fired.

No. How had he missed another weapon? He had long enough to see it, to determine that it was at least a century old and Federation standard - he wondered briefly where she had gotten it - before moving to get out of the way. The snarl was already forming on his lips when his shoulder was slammed backward; there was a second in which to realize that it was not set to kill before he dropped. Kill shots could occasionally be avoided with the sacrifice of a limb. Stun, at this close proximity, could not.

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