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Consequences - Storyteller - 08-04-2016
Before Trixie could gather her bearings the ear splitting roar of repulsor engines assaulted the environment. The very ground shook as several transports dropped numerous squads of Stormtroopers. Rushing, with weapons brought to bear, they surrounded the red-headed Sith Warrior. Mistress Zulenka was beginning to feel the faint prickling sensation of exhaustion as the commanding soldier presented a datapad with her picture on it.
"By Imperial Decree, penned by Imperial High Command, you, Beatrix Zulenka, are hereby placed under arrest!" Trixie could hear the tone of seriousness even with the voice modulator on the helmet.
Before she could respond the world before her went a fuzzy white, then nothing. Another Stormtrooper had struck the red-head with the butt of his rifle rendering her unconscious. Quickly and quietly the dispatched military force loaded Beatrix into a prisoner transfer pod before lifting it to a transport waiting above them. They were gone as quickly as they had arrived.
RE: Consequences - Trixie - 08-11-2016
“They have her.”
Nova had a rather dejected look on her face as King Bradley made his way through security on the other side of the prison reflector fields. In tow behind him was Trixie, dressed in the token high priority white prisoner’s jumpsuit. Her hair was in a ponytail draping over a shoulder and printed on her back were the numbers 11256. Unbeknownst to Terra, that was the sequence of numbers branded Trixie had branded to an inner thigh and served as her prisoner number in the Underverse. Trixie could barely contain her rage as she proceeded past heavily armed prison units. They had stripped her of rank and dishonorably discharged her from service. What the fuck had Nova been doing?
Terra could see the anger on Trixie’s face when Bradley had pushed her through into the holding tank, but for the red-head to react as she did was not expected. Breaking through her restraints with flashes of lighting a quick and extremely stiff elbow rammed itself into Nova’s jaw from the left. Followed by a swift cross the blond was tossed against the fold out bed, blood running down her chin from a split lip.
“That’s one way to greet me after all this time.” The blond said with a chuckle.
“What the fuck did you do!? I trusted you!” Beatrix bellowed, causing the holding cell to buckle.
“You’re lucky I can fucking fight because they’re offering me a job and I said I’d only do it with you by my side. We are Ensign’s again thanks to your stampede through Imperial protocol!”
“I had to find my body!” Nova shouted, now defending her actions.
“You could have at least waited! For fucks sake Nova!” Trixie could barely contain herself as she drove a fist through the containment barrier of the cell and shorted it out.
Immediately the prison alarm sounded, but Bradley held up his hand as the red-head turned around.
“I have been in an interrogation room as the perpetrator for the last time. You work for me now blondie. As recompense for this and because it’ll keep you out of jail until we clear our names.”
Turning to King Bradley Trixie nodded. “We’ll do it. Whatever it takes to get us back on the right path.”
“Tch.” Nova sat back against the wall dejected again.
Without missing a beat Trixie seized Nova by the scruff of her prison jumpsuit and pulled her to her feet. Pressing her lips to the blonds the mistress dove her tongue into play for a deep, passionate, and long awaited kiss. Zulenka could taste November’s blood as she pulled away and exhaled sensually against the woman’s cheek.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time. Now fall in line, soldier.” The Sith woman whispered breathily.
Nova could hardly contain herself as Trixie pressed her lips to hers once more before turning to King Bradley who had been standing behind them, sternly, the whole time.
“We’re at your disposal, but we’ll need equipment.”
With a dissatisfied grunt Bradley beckoned them to follow him. “You can take whatever we have in the storage containers on Tier 2. Only commissioned officers can requisition customized gear.”
“Understood, sir.” Trixie barked like a good soldier.
***
Trixie, Nova, and Bradley left the prison complex on Tier 1 and took a shuttle to a nearby Imperial Academy where the two women were put through a physical test and given new dog tags to reflect their new rank. From there Bradley went back to his business and officially swore them back into the Empire again as lowly ensigns. Taking a shuttle from the academy to Tier 2 the pair of women grabbed what gear they could before heading down into Tier 3 for their assignment.
RE: Consequences - Trixie - 09-17-2016
“Is this it?” Nova asked, aiming her flashlight at the shoddily bolted ‘6’ and ‘2’ on the rusting storage unit.
The numbers were completely rusted and looked as if they would fall off with the slightest touch. Trixie’s lips pursed in a silent expression of annoyance. Prying open the rust covered keypad the red-head pressed the rough metal keys in sequence with her Imperial serial number or ISN. The lock beeped, a red light blinked green and the hydraulic lock was released. Wrenching the door open the two Ensign’s were immediately bombarded with the horrid sting of mildew clinging to the air.
Covering her nose and mouth with her arm the red-head stepped into the storage room and shined her light on the various items.
“Well what a surprise. This unit must be from the damn beginning of the Empire.” Trixie spit on the stained concrete floor. “Air tastes like this room hasn’t seen daylight in years.”
Nova picked up a rifle which proceeded to fall apart in her hands. With an amused laugh she blew the dust off an obvious weapons crate. The resulting cloud of particles caused both women to suffer from a fit of uncontrollable coughing.
“Really?” Trixie asked dryly, as she finally calmed her respiratory system.
“Yep.” The blond replied, cracking open the trunk.
While Nova was busy assembling the weapons from the crate Trixie spotted a sword lying against the back wall. As her eyes met the blade she could almost feel it calling to her. Faint whispers caressed her mind and beckoned the force user to pick up the blade. Trixie made her way to the back of the storage unit and knelt down to examine the scabbard laying before her. Faint wisps of force energy licked across her lips as her left hand poised ready to grasp the blade. As her skin made contact with the hilt the energy forced its way into her mouth and down her throat, throwing the red-headed force user out of the room and into the new torrential downpour.
“TRIXIE!” Shrieked Nova, as she ran to her partners’ side.
Unbeknownst to both of them the blade had vanished. A swirling blue energy wrapped itself around Trixie’s mind before disappearing completely. The redhead awoke with a cough.
“Lord Ragnos?” Trixie asked, bewildered.
“Who are you talk-“
Trixie’s eyes clenched shut and she shrieked in pain as her mind was assaulted by the ancient force ghost. Standing before Beatrix, invisible to Nova, was the towering figure of Marka Ragnos. His piercing gaze drew her mind into a different realm. The look alike version of herself was there in all her prissy, blazing glory. Without a second thought Ragnos illuminated one of his clawed hands in blue flame and purged the copy.
“You are Sith and nothing else, mortal.” His words shook her mind.
“You have somehow come to exist in this pitiful universe as I have.” The Dark Lord concluded aloud.
“Thanks for the observation.” Trixie spat through clenched teeth, fighting intense, ear splitting pain.
“Watch your tongue follower of Sadow!” Marka Ragnos commanded.
“Sadow was a failure and a coward!” Trixie shot back.
A grin formed across the face of Ragnos before he vanished, releasing Beatrix’s mind back to the real world. Nova had assembled the weapon and was in the doorway to the storage unit scrolling through a data pad. Sitting up, Trixie placed a hand to her wet and matted head as pain throbbed its way from the back of her skull through to her eyes.
“We have a target. Someone is seeking information on you and has been spewing all over the Dataverse. Saying you’re in league with Diablo and crap like that. Some nobody named Dominator shot it down. Which is lucky for us.”
A momentary chill ran through the Sith’s spine as she swallowed nervously, careful not to show it. Getting to her feet as lightning streaked across the cloud covered sky, Mistress Zulenka took her data-verse device from the pouch on her messenger bag and slid it open.
“I can almost guarantee that it’s Jaxx.” Zulenka mused aloud.
“How do you know!?” Nova exclaimed, almost sure Trixie would have no idea that Jaxx was present at the site when she was banished.
“I know more than you think.” Trixie replied blankly. Her mind was full of Foresight visions that she had finally learned to decipher.
While her time in the Underverse had been extremely traumatic, it had taught her much more about herself and the power that she was capable of using.
“Come.” The mistress commanded, walking past her blond romantic interest.
Dissolving the sword into its base omnilium form the red-head stored it for a later time when she actually had more than seconds to think. Taking a holdout blaster from a shelf the Sith wrapped the nylonite straps of the holster around her right thigh and pulled them tight. Returning to her feet, Trixie took the datapad Nova was holding and scrolled through the series of text that she had been reading. Some idiot was indeed trying to warn people about her.
Bring him in. He will be our stepping stone.
The grating voice of Lord Ragnos echoed through her mind. Without a second glance the mistress tossed the datapad back to her concubine and proceeded into the rain soaked city.
“Where are we going?” Nova shouted, shutting the storage door and jogging to catch up.
“To find Bardan Jaxx,” replied Beatrix, with a sinister grin forming over her features.
RE: Consequences - Storyteller - 10-12-2016
Blaster fire peppered the metal walls of the building Luna and Jaxx had holed up in.
“You’re surrounded! The marines are on their way! Give up!” A negotiator shouted through a loudspeaker.
Luna tossed a spent energy cell to the ground and jammed another one into the rifle she was wielding.
“You’re going to get me fucking killed, Jaxx!” Luna shouted over heavy weapons fire.
Bardan Jaxx and several of his closest soldier buddies from the Rangers were unloading auto-laser fire onto the group of Stormtroopers that had been deployed to the forward position. He knew time was short. The longer they resisted the more chance they had of seeing Ultramarines.
“How did they find us!?” Jaxx shouted as he caught a thermal detonator that had flown in through a shattered window; tossing it back he took position along an eastern wall and drew a blaster from his belt.
“Some idiot was posting all over the god damn Dataverse without decent encryption! Two Imperial head hunters tracked it and well…you know the rest!” She replied, obviously annoyed.
Jaxx had been that idiot.
Luna pushed herself up along the wall and peered out to assess the situation, but to her dismay the Imperial force had begun to close the noose and a large caliber energy blast took off her left arm. The cybernetics built into her torso sizzled and sparked as the red eyed spy was thrown further into the room. When the dust cleared and her visual processors regained focus she found herself staring down the barrel of a Stormtrooper Captain’s weapon.
Her pupils shrank as he pulled the trigger and ended her existence. Jaxx was nowhere to be found having left Luna to die.
“Find Jaxx and alert Command that we’ve eliminated a known cyber terrorist and underworld criminal.” The Captain spoke to his second in-command.
The battalion swarmed the building and city block looking for the ex-Ranger, but were unable to turn him up. Tossing the severed arm of Luna onto her corpse the Captain took a body bag from one his soldiers and unfolded it. Putting the deceased cyborg known as Luna within the synthetic container he zipped it shut and threw it over his shoulder.
Gun in one hand and Luna's corpse over his shoulder, the Stormtrooper Captain charged with raiding Jaxx’s location returned to the deployment vehicle and loaded up to be taken to Command HQ.
Quote:Luna, Secondary of Trixie is dead. Bardan Jaxx has fled deeper into Coruscant. Last seen on T3.
RE: Consequences - Trixie - 11-05-2016
The deafening roar of repulsorlift engines drove its way through a Tier 4 alleyway. An ex-ranger of Bardan Jaxx was leading Trixie and Nova in a high-speed chase across Coruscant. TIE Interceptors had been deployed and it was only a matter of time before they cut off the escape path or blew the target out of the sky. Trixie knew they were just going to shoot first and ask later. She did not want that to happen. Unfortunately, the associate of Jaxx’s had a faster vehicle and the ancient Multi Altitude Assault Transport, that had been basically a rolling chassis with two engines in disrepair, could keep up but couldn’t catch the lead vehicle.
“I need more power!” Trixie shouted back to Nova.
November Terra had both maintenance ladders extended and was basically hanging by her feet in the engine catwalk that was designed to allow engineers to make repairs to the various systems without having to physically remove the engines. She was fixing the aging repulsors and putting them back together as they fell apart in flight. Her partners aggravated command made her drop a wrench and beam her forehead on a solid steel panel.
“Fuck! I’m giving it all she’s got, dammit!” The blond sniper screamed through the loud whine of the engine compartment, blood trickling down her face.
Biting her lip Trixie twisted both thrust knobs to full and plugged in an auto intercept path. Ignoring the computers warning that the current airspeed would not be enough to intercept, Trixie stepped out of the cockpit and threw her cloak out of the side door.
“Follow close behind. I got this.” The redheaded mistress nodded to her comrade who dropped out of the maintenance catwalk and into the main compartment.
It was time to test out of the full potential of the exoskeleton Sia had given her. She may have been in an older suit of ARC Trooper armor, but the power core still held a charge. As Trixie attached the box looking device to her lower back the servos engaged and fastened it in place. Grabbing the lip of the ceiling the mistress swung herself out of the transport and onto the roof, exerting her force ability. Pushing off the hull with an immense kick of dark side energy Trixie flew forward towards the fleeing ex-Ranger.
Combat Exoskeleton Tallgeese!
With an explosion of rainbow omnilium the storage tanks purged from the device and encompassed the redhead Sith Warrior. Just as she began to fall the booster system manifested itself and she burst forward, immediately breaking the sound barrier several times. It only took seconds to catch up to their target. In one motion Trixie drew Falkner’s lightsaber and fluidly cut the vehicle the Ranger was using in half up the middle. Splitting the wreckage with the force, her body completely covered by the Tallgeese exoskeleton at this point, she grabbed the soldier by the arm, clamped down on him and immediately thrusted backward towards the incoming Terra. Both Trixie and her blond comrade landed at the same time, the facemask opening up on the mistress’ suit. As Nova powered down the engines to bring the craft in for a landing it was audible at how bad of shape the engines were in. The chassis was vibrating and ejecting metal shaving as the craft basically ate itself.
“Take him back to Tier 3. That Black Sun base I acquired before I left. Park in the hanger on the bottom level. I’ll be right behind you.” Trixie ordered, fastening the now unconscious Ranger to a chair that had been bolted into the transport area of the MAAT.
Nova saluted her commander officer and engaged the repulsors, which almost didn’t restart. They coughed and sputtered, shooting out bits of metal and engine internals before reigniting with a brilliant flash of blue energy.
***
As Nova carefully piloted the MAAT into the hangar level of Trixie’s giant Tier 3 complex the containment warnings for both engines lit up, which created a catastrophic engine malfunction. With inches left before touchdown, both engines died and dropped the salvaged craft to the hangar floor with a thunderous crash. Several loud discharges that ejected metal from the exhaust vents rang out through the room as Trixie touched down.
“Well that’s going to need a lot of work…” The mistress said as her helmet visor liquefied, exposing her face.
“That and the Imperial ARC 170 in the back.”
“You have an ARC 170?” Nova asked as she grabbed a nearby fire extinguisher off the wall and emptied it into the nearest engine vent.
“Yeah. Luna set this all up ages ago for me. The secondary reactor must still be on. Veronica hasn’t acknowledged our arrival. Nor have the HK units.” The redhead replied, ripping the ex-Ranger from his chair and throwing him over her shoulder.
“Veronica? Who’s Veronica?” Nova asked, slotting the fire extinguisher back on the wall.
Trixie laughed and hit the hanger door controls making the giant door begins its journey downward. The duo and their unconscious criminal made their way upstairs to the crew area. Off one of the hallways was a section of energy containment cells built off an interrogation room. Dropping the ex-Ranger into one of the disabled fields, Trixie moved to the wall controls and enabled it. Pressing an extra couple of buttons the lights went from red, to green, to orange.
“That should get him to talk. With the field modulation altered in that way he’ll start seeing shit.” Mistress Zulenka spoke to her partner who was at the door with her arms crossed.
“Veronica is an AI that runs this place. She’s like Luna, but completely cybernetic and incapable of leaving her Integrated Cybernetic Humanoid Repository or ICHR. It’s basically a liquid cooled bath that she’s submerged in while she runs things. From time to time she activates the backup systems and takes a vacation.”
“Can computers even take vacations?” Nova asked with a raised eyebrow.
With a laugh Trixie exited the interrogation room and locked the door behind them. Continuing up the stairs the redheaded Sith gave Nova a cursory tour of their new living quarters. Both had private rooms on the top level with the middle section housing at least 50 or more mini apartment pods for visitors and potential crew. Finally getting to the main foyer Trixie opened a hidden panel in the wall and punched in a 16-digit code. Pressing her fingertip to the display the lock disengaged and opened into an unusually cool room with a kolto tank looking tube in the middle mounted from the ceiling straight to the floor. Various server racks of varying degrees of power and performance lined the walls with thick cables running along the floor and into the glass cylinder. Alone in the corner was a workstation for an administrator to gain access to the system, but it was behind what looked to be a cortosis alloy gate.
“Emperor's wrath, Trixie.” Nova looked on in wonder.
“Luna said she owed me a favor. For what I have no idea, but she promised she’d get me a place to call home.”
“Speaking of which. Get Knudal over for that interrogation. We need to confirm the reports that Luna has disappeared.”
Nova nodded before heading for the exit. “I’m gonna grab a quick shower. You…want to join me?”
Trixie’s head jerked in the direction of her comrade, whose face was beet red.
“Yeah I could use a good shower.” She replied with a smile.
RE: Consequences - Trixie - 01-06-2017
It had been over a year since Trixie had first stepped foot into the universe she now called home. With the information that had been extracted from Jaxx’s operative with the help of Coruscant Police Officer Aisha Knudal, whose military career under Dredd had made her a ruthless interrogator, numerous Stormtrooper and Special Forces raids into possible locations where Bardan Jaxx could be hiding were given the green light. It was surprising to both Nova and Trixie at how unchained the lithe blonde woman became after learning her sister had perished during the last fire fight Stormtroopers had had with Jaxx. As tears rolled down Aisha’s face, the young woman sank into a corner of the bloodied interrogation room, Trixie stared at the lifeless man sitting bound to a chair in the middle of room in shock whilst Nova paced behind her frantically shouting ideas and thoughts about how they could have saved her. How Luna would be alive had they been there.
Aisha was crying into her hands, smearing still wet blood onto her pretty face. Trixie lowered her head and let her hair fall over her features. It hadn’t been since Ziost that the mistress had been under full command of such a small group. Since coming back from the Underverse, memories from the past had been flooding into her mind like poisonous thoughts. Old techniques and skills that had long been rusty were becoming newly acquired. She could even remember the faces of her comrades and of her Aunt on Dathmoir. All the countless men and women under her command lost to the siege and the final battle. One person resonated in her mind more than the others.
Staff Sergeant James Masters.
Of all the things, friendly fire was the last thing on her list to bring him down. It was truly a tragedy. Nova’s touch brought the red-head back to reality and she made eye contact with…her new Masters. November Terra was as reliable as he was, as reckless, and as resourceful. The words being spoken to Trixie were lost in the moment as she grabbed Nova by the face and brought her in for a passionate and lengthy kiss.
As she pulled away from the blond woman she took a few steps back and rested her weight on the wall.
“Reports are coming in from each of the teams. They’re making decisive blows, but they haven’t found Jaxx yet.”
“DAMMIT!” Aisha shouted in frustration, her gloved hand smashing the concrete floor.
“It gets worse.” Nova continued.
“It’s beginning to look like Bardan Jaxx had rebel help.”
Beatrix still hadn’t spoken a word, but at the mention of rebel help her eyes darted to Nova’s. She could hear the screams and cries of her lost comrades ringing through her consciousness.
“Trixie…what’s the play?”
Just like that, in one split moment, the whole world came crashing down back into reality. Standing behind the dead operative was Marka Ragnos.
“Assign Officer Knudal a room. Then contact Bradley and have her transferred to our unit. Drop Dredd’s name if you must. Get her geared up and meet me in the hangar.”
November nodded and grabbed Aisha by the arm, dragging her up to her feet. The two women left the room and proceeded down the hall.
“Veronica. Can you get a couple HK units to repair the jumper? I also need an assault squad. So activate some from the base defense force and have them assemble in the hangar. Weapons and ammo only.”
“As you wish, ma’am.” Veronica replied over the communicator.
Trixie’s gaze fell directly upon Marka Ragnos who was eyeing the dead operative. The world melted away and only her and Ragnos remained.
“Do you have a plan or am I to just blindly trust you?”
“Everything will be revealed in time.” His voice trailed off into the void, a sinister tone dripping from his words.
With a sigh, Trixie turned to the door and punched in the door code. Setting the room for a cleaning cycle she took off down the hallway towards the armory, her red hair swaying behind her lithe figure.
RE: Consequences - Android 17 - 01-14-2017
The cybernetic warrior was certain that he’d seen a place like this one time or another.
Neon lights. Hover cars. Glittering skyscrapers that seemed to be made of gold. In many ways, it reminded him of West City at the peak of its prosperity, before the final round of inter-city wars. The home of Capsule Corp couldn’t compare with the uber-metropolis that spread out into forever as far as the man could see.
Unsure where to go, the cyborg had remained near the gate. A glance down from the little platform he stood upon revealed an unmeasurable drop that glittered with the underbellies of the palatial structures that dominated the neighborhood around the ‘Nexus’ gate. He had heard that Coruscant was ‘tiered,’ which meant layered in some way. His look wasn’t excellent, but how far down could the place go? Who would go out of their way to build such a place?
Who creates giant stone statues of themselves on the sides of their mountain forts?
“Fucking Omniverse.” Seventeen chuckled as he tapped at his thigh with a few of his fingertips. It wasn’t exactly nervousness, but he certainly didn’t feel entirely comfortable amid the opulent entrance plaza. In his world, he’d met and worked for demigods, but the homes of the kais paled in comparison to this small slice of Coruscant. In his attempt to find something a little more ‘familiar’ and modern, the cyborg had found something that was alien in the most unsettling manner.
With the Dataverse at his disposal, Seventeen knew already that the place was governed by a monarchy of some sort. The shimmering façade was likely to be just that—a layer of veneer to hide a centralized bureaucracy built on strength and suppression of subversives. While the monarch himself—aptly and lazily dubbed ‘The Emperor’—seemed mostly out of the public eye, the state itself was everywhere. Soldiers equipped with black laser rifles and clad in shiny white suits of armor patrolled the entrance to the city. Every now and again, a humanoid buried beneath a set of huge, whirring iron would lumber around, waving a man-sized assault rifle ludicrously equipped with its own chainsaw.
The entire thing seemed almost too ridiculous to be true, but Seventeen had already been to the kingdom of the talking, subterranean reptiles and their bombastic, cult-of-personality master. Given that experience, the cyborg had only been initially shocked by the sudden change from silent, all-white landscape to loud, oppressively bright super city. Something in his gut told him that, sooner or later, he’d have to condition himself to stop being confused, amused, and/or otherwise thrown off balance by how un-real this whole place felt.
He knew he hadn’t been standing there for long, but the moment Seventeen finally moved to leave the elevated platform near the gate, half a dozen of the white soldiers stopped mid-goose step and pivoted to face him. “Halt!”
Brow furrowed at the display, the cyborg lifted up his hands and cracked an awkward smile as two of the soldiers marched over to him. Although he half-expected a vigorous patting down, one of the troopers pulled out a handheld device. “You will submit to scanning.”
“Sure?” Seventeen replied uneasily. In all honesty, the cyborg didn’t know whether to smile, laugh, or stand at attention. “Is that one of those x-ray scanners?”
“I did not ask a question,” the man behind the black eye grooves replied through whatever speaker technology allowed him to talk clearly through the material. “You have one chance to report any illegal contraband.”
“Don’t think so,” Seventeen muttered as he glanced around. He was surrounded by six of the Stormtroopers. The cyborg had taken some time in the Nexus to create a capsule to store the Barrel Train in. Aside from a phone, and some trinkets from the Koopas, the only thing he had on him wa—a
bee bee bee beeep!
The light on the scanner flashed red as all around the cyborg there was a synchronized click of gun safeties.
“WHAT IS ON YOU!” The central trooper barked as he drew a smaller pistol and held it a few inches from the machine-hybrid’s forehead. When an answer didn’t come instantaneously, the warm barrel was pressed into Seventeen’s pallid flesh. “SPEAK.”
“Just a memento from the Koopas,” the cyborg mumbled. “Some lava from their fountains… I didn’t know it would set off your stuff. My bad.”
The answer caused the guard’s posture to relax, but he didn’t lower the gun. He simply glanced at one of his peers. “Cuff him.” He turned back to Seventeen as one of the other soldiers quickly grabbed at the skinny man’s arms and wrenched them behind his back. “On the grounds of Imperial Code 10214, Section 66, I am taking you in for mandatory questioning by a representative of the Empire Peace Division. Resistance is immediate grounds for summary execution.”
“Lovely,” Seventeen muttered as the cuffs closed around his wrists. One hard shove later and he was being marched off into the glittering city.
RE: Consequences - Android 17 - 01-15-2017
Once they were a few yards away from the Gate, one of the Stormtroopers had slipped some sort of fabric sack over the cyborg’s face. With a laugh, Seventeen had reminded them that they lived in the largest city in the Omniverse and that a simple search of the Dataverse would tell him where they were headed. At that quip, one of the troopers had squeeze a little too tight on the restraints, prompting the raven-haired man to bite his tongue for the remainder of their march through the opulent entrance district of Coruscant.
Twenty minutes later, Seventeen heard the hiss of pneumatic doors and felt the climate change as he was ushered into the headquarters of the Empire Peace Division. After the sound of goose steps stopped, the sack was removed from his head, revealing the spacious foyer for what seemed to be a massive police precinct.
Although he’d been ushered halfway into the structure under armed guard, the crowds of armored and unarmored cops didn’t seem overly interested. Most had the expression or the pace of someone with places to go and things to do. No one paid much attention as the cyborg was guided through a set of large double doors and underneath a large plastic archway that thrummed loudly. Beyond that, there was a second pair of doors, but instead of glass, the material was a muted gray.
One of the Stormtroopers jogged up to the doors and depressed a button on the left wall. “Interrogations.” The armored man took a step back and glanced up at a little camera above the exit to the corridor. A little green light washed over his body, and a beat later, there was a loud click as the doors swung inward to reveal a surprisingly plain-looking hallway lined with doors. For all intents and purposes, it looked like the inside of a police department. In an open area to his right, there was even what appeared to be a water cooler and a coffee maker.
“This room,” one of the troopers barked as he pressed his hand against a small pad. After a flash of light beneath the armored man’s fingers, the wooden door popped open. “Inside,” he commanded as he gestured with his sidearm. “There’s a place for you to sit. Be advised that any misconduct is an admission of guilt.”
“Guilt of what?”
“Guilt.” The trooper replied angrily before shoving the lithe cyborg into the waiting room and slamming the sturdy wooden door shut.
“Not my fault your mother didn’t love you as a child,” Seventeen mumbled as he walked over and dropped himself into the uncomfortable wooden chair. “Mine abandoned me, and… y’know, aside from that period where I was a ruthless teenager assassin, I think I turned out all right.”
Glancing to his left, the machine-hybrid met his reflection in water cooler that sat just in front of the large mirror.
Mirror?
He shook his head. He was in a police station for interrogation, which meant the mirror was actually a one-way window. On the other side, he imagined there was probably a few guys chewing donuts and sipping coffee as they waited for Seventeen’s interrogator to materialize.
“Is this the part where you leave me to stew in my thoughts?” The cyborg asked toward his reflection. “You ever been dead? Or put in stasis? All you got are your thoughts. My thoughts and I are a-okay with one another.”
Silence.
Seventeen smiled after giving his shoulders are hearty shrug. If they were going to let him sit, he’d be more than happy to oblige them. The journey in the Barrel Train had been a grim reminder that he needed to install heated leather seats the next time he planned to drive the train/kart-monstrosity for several hours. Compared to that experience, the creaky wooden seat was divinity incarnate.
“I do look like shit though,” the cyborg muttered as he stared at his reflection in the one-way glass. All the rattling and the hot weather had caused his hair to fray and frizz, giving him a mildly manic appearance. Fortunately, his skin wasn’t any paler than usual, and the bags under his eyes were just as present as they had always been. He reached up and pressed a mildly calloused hand against the side of his face. “I wonder if I’ll age here.” He’d stopped aging after his death, so even though his ‘soul’ was pushing thirty, his meat suit was barely that of someone in their early twenties.
Cole and Piper must be close do double-digits now…
The thought of the life he’d left behind broke the normally bemused expression that the cyborg wore on his face.
And what about all the friends and confidants?
Ole Mikey, driving that ship around and cackling like a boy with his toys. That had been the last memory of his cybernetic friend that Seventeen could recall. Or Kirano. That boy’d be so pissed he got knocked the fuck out by that dragon.
“We’ll see each other again,” he whispered. “We all owe each other another barbeque.”
As that thought swirled in the cyborg’s head, the door let out another loud click and swung open as a man in an unimposing dark green uniform stepped inside. “Good afternoon, I’m Inspector Rath Smeros, EPD Immigrants.” The cop/soldier—Seventeen still wasn’t sure if there was a difference in Coruscant—pulled a chair from the other wall and sat down near the middle of the room. With a clipboard in one hand, he reached up and adjusted the beret he wore over whatever short hairstyle he may have had. “Name?” He inquired as he made eye contact for the first time.
“Seventeen.”
Rath, who had his pen at the ready, furrowed his brow. “That’s a number.”
The cyborg suppressed a laugh. “I guess it is, but you’re telling me you’ve met zero persons who might have names you find strange? No one, ‘Mr. Inspector Smeros’?”
“Don’t be a smart ass, you’re one negative report away from being a criminal.” Seventeen smiled but didn’t offer a rebuttal, and after scribbling something down onto his report, the officer returned to the questions. “Why are you in Coruscant?”
“Seemed like an interesting place. All the sparkly buildings. Can’t not be a good bar somewhere.”
“Pleasure-seeker?” Rath inquired as he made a few quick notes.
Seventeen shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t think so? You’re making it sound like I’m looking for an opium den.”
Dead eyes and a deadpan response followed. “Are you, Mister Seventeen?”
At that, the cyborg only managed to half-stifle a laugh. He quickly composed himself at the sound of Rath started to scribble furiously onto his document. “I wasn’t aware those things existed here. What with how mercilo—effective! With how effective the brilliant security forces are in Coruscant.”
“Sarcasm won’t keep you out of handcuffs.”
“What about my brooding good looks and a smolder that could melt the heart of a nun?”
At that last part, Rath glanced up and scowled at the sneering man sitting across from him. “Let’s just cut right to the point. What’s the device you have, and why were you attempting to smuggle it into Coruscant, Mister Seventeen?”
“May I show you?” The cyborg asked as he held up both his hands for the other man to see. When Rath nodded, Seventeen reached into the little bag he wore on his belt and pulled out a fist-sized Bowser head. Rather than carry around the star, which seemed to constantly pulse with energy and radiate heat, he had created a little insulated container for it. “I’ve met King Bowser.” Seventeen pointed to the shell keychain on his belt. “You can get in touch with their people if you want to vet me, but I’m not lying. This is just some lava from their central castle, because I really liked my time there.”
“So, a little toy filled with lava is generating that much heat and has that much thermal energy?”
“You ever been inside a Koopa fortress?” Seventeen bluffed. “There’s a reason why they rule the Steppes, Man, they eat this shit for breakfast. Plus, it’s a dope flashlight and nightlight.”
The inspector scowled as he wrote down some additional notes. After half a minute of scrawling words, he sat up and pushed away the chair. “You’ve violated Imperial Law 216, Subsection 92, Clause 18. You are sentenced to no less than six weeks of community service and twelve weeks probation. Leaving Coruscant at any point will be an admission of guilt in the crime of contraband smuggling, as per Subsection 182, Clause 4.”
Seventeen furrowed his brow harder than he ever had in his entire life. “I have to clean up garbage for a month and a half?”
Rath smirked for a brief moment. “You’re a prime, if I’m not mistaken?” The cyborg nodded his head. “Then community service is conscription. You’ll remain here while they determine which unit you’ll be sent to.”
“How’s that fair?”
The inspector opened the door and pause to glance over his shoulder. “Life’s not fair, Mister Seventeen. Welcome to Coruscant.”
RE: Consequences - Android 17 - 02-10-2017
After being smacked around by a few more of the Stormtroopers, the machine-hybrid had been ‘given’ the opportunity to slip on his own senses-smothering sack. While he was certain the material itself was burlap, the bag had a little metal band at the base that acted to numb his sight and sound. It didn’t affect his ki sense, so he wasn’t quite sure if it achieved any purpose other than trying to cow or intimidate.
“A bit excessive,” Seventeen muttered as he was pushed into what had to be some sort of transport vehicle. Even the technologically augmented sack couldn’t prevent him from feeling the thrum of a few engines through the metal beneath his boots.
“It’s for our safety,” one of the troopers replied before a pair of gloved hands shoved against the cyborg’s chest and dropped him down into what had to be a seat of some kind. A beat later, a pair of cold bracers slipped over his wrists and thighs. “You should remain silent until we arrive at the depot. Any complaints will be used against you in a tribunal.”
I thought it was ‘court of law’? The raven-haired warrior smiled beneath the hood but offered no rebuttal. When they were confident that their prisoner wasn’t going to dig himself a deeper hole, the troopers ordered the vehicle into motion.
“You will be taken to an Imperial barracks on Tier 3. Once there, you will be assigned a commanding officer, who you will serve under for an indeterminate amount of time prior to your release. Failure to abide by this judgment will be an admission of guilt for the crime of treason against the Empire, which is punishable by summary execution without the possibility of appeal.”
Lovely.
“If you understand this, you will nod.”
The cybernetic warrior considered his options for a few moments. He knew that he could probably kill the trooper before he had a chance to retaliate or raise an alarm. Unfortunately, his sixth sense told him that he wasn’t alone with the soldier, and that there were at least two other armored men sitting on the other wall of the transport. Seventeen hadn’t been in Coruscant long enough to know how serious the place was about training its cannon fodder, and the back of an armored car didn’t seem like the place to start his inquiry.
“Do you understand?” The trooper barked.
Seventeen nodded his head before setting it against the hull of the vessel. With his eyes closed, he focused on his ki sense and tried to feel a better picture of the world outside the ship. Even a cursory focus revealed that there were plenty of people in Coruscant. The rate that they were moving by had the cyborg assuming they were using a highway.
For whatever reason, his senses didn’t have the range to see more than a few feet beyond the boundary of the street.
Guess I need more omnilium... Seventeen frowned underneath the burlap as he shifted a little in the plastic and metal seat. How much omnilium would it take for him to ‘restore’ himself? Time was weird in the Omniverse, and while he’d only had a few adventures in the Ashen Steppes, he knew that over a year had passed elsewhere.
They’ll be done with the Stallions by the time I get back…
As the transport passed through the skies of Coruscant, the cyborg tried to make a list in his head of what he should focus on regaining next. Orbing? That had to be his next priority, if only because it would have made situations like this 100% less complicated.
More boom-boom would also be nice… Or metal binding! Yes, the metal. Seventeen snickered underneath the sack as he played through a quick fantasy in his head where he used the transport’s hull to skewer its complement of armored soldiers.
“Descending.” The trooper’s voice was barely audible, but Seventeen felt a distinct shift in the vehicle’s momentum as it started to descend at nearly a ninety-degree angle.
It was nearly seven minutes before the transport started to move forward again, but this time, it was with the steady thump-thump of treads on pavement. Wherever they had gone, the aerial streets had given way to solid macadam.
The journey took only ten more minutes before the engines died down and Seventeen felt the clamps loosen around his thighs and wrists. Without pause, there was a gloved hand around his arm, and he was being yanked up to his feet and shoved toward the exit.
RE: Consequences - Android 17 - 02-16-2017
When the hood slipped off his head, the cyborg had to take a few moments to blink away the fresh onslaught of light and noise. As the initial overload faded, he took note that he was in a small barracks, and that a handful of half-armored Stormtroopers were milling about in the long common area. Looking over his shoulder, Seventeen saw his transporters exchanging some words with a trooper who wore a small cape. After the others left, that caped soldier walked over to the machine-hybrid and glanced him over a few times.
“You’re skinny,” he muttered. “Have you ever been to a gym?”
The cyborg couldn’t help himself—he snorted before plopping a hand over his mouth. When he regained control, he fought the urge to make some derogatory remark about the use of gyms in a world where rainbow magic could imbue a tiny pixie with the power of the gods.
“Did they talk to you?” Seventeen asked, hoping to divert the conversation to the important part.
With a nod, the trooper turned and pointed out a window. “I don’t care for this whole bullshit about forced conscription and punishment brigades.” Seventeen followed the man’s gauntleted finger and saw that he was pointing down a very normal-looking street. “But since you got no choice, you’re going to go that way. About a click down that street—Jacob’s Street—you’ll find a nest of scum. People peddling illegal tech to the poor. We’ve been intending to raid them for a while, but we have had other issues to deal with lately.”
“When you say scum, do you mean unsavory types?” Seventeen asked as he turned back to look at the Stormtrooper. “Or like… literal mounds of filth, because I’m never really sure what’s literal and metaphorical in this place.”
The cyborg caught the subtle movement of the soldier’s chest that signified a half-suppressed laugh. “Gangbangers.” He remarked. “One of them is a prime who goes by the name of El Lago.”
So the guy’s a fucking lake? Seventeen, who came from a world with golden space monkeys ruled by frat boy demigods, furrowed his brow as he took yet another moment to appreciate the lunacy of the Omniverse.
“What should I do?” The machine-hybrid inquired as the trooper reached into a small bag attached to his belt. The armored soldier held up a little key-shaped object, let Seventeen get a look at it, and then pressed it against the raven-haired fighter’s chest. “Is this to his house?” The confused man mumbled.
“Beat down El Lago and use that to make sure he doesn’t threaten anyone in Coruscant. Kill any of his cronies who get in your way and destroy any contraband you find at his base of operations. If you can take care of all this, I’ll wipe your crimes from your record.”
Ah yes, those ‘crimes’ I committed by walking through a gate. “Got it,” Seventeen responded as the Stormtrooper stepped back and pushed open the door of the barracks.
“As I said, it’s a straight shot down Jacob’s Street.”
“Roger doger,” the cyborg replied with feigned enthusiasm as he jogged out the door. After the heavy metal slammed shut behind him, he glanced in the opposite direction for a few brief moments. Should he just head out of this place? Would the Empire really bother coming after him if he just left to another verse?
What else are you going to do? The turtles are probably having fun, so why don’t you just do the little task for the evil empire. Maybe they’ll give you a shiny badge and call you a deputy?
“Deal!” Seventeen chuckled as he turned toward the east end of Jacob’s Street and broke into a casual jog toward the den of wolves and vipers that awaited him.
RE: Consequences - Android 17 - 02-21-2017
He was on ‘Tier 3’ of Coruscant.
A cursory glance at the Dataverse revealed that this level of the city was renowned for its ‘normalcy’, with its asphalt streets providing a ‘homey and down-to-Earth’ feel for the citizens. A few sky roads were present, but they were in the centermost neighborhoods, so Seventeen was left meandering down the sidewalk as an assortment of future-tech vehicles zoomed passed him.
While the first level of the city had been a glitzier version of West City, this part of Coruscant more resembled the busy streets of Central City. There were flashes of the future tech nonsense that the cyborg had spotted in the central square of Tier 1, but there was also a lot of normal flair plopped into the urban menagerie of store fronts, office buildings, and upscale-tenements. The Omniverse’s version of the internet informed the machine-hybrid that there were three additional levels to the city, and all the reports and posts alluded to ‘a steady decline in standard of living.’
What was waiting down on that bottom tier? Toxic waste swimming pools and landfills of infected needles?
Seventeen shook away the smirk from his face as he reached the building was supposed to house the infamous ‘El Lago’ and his gang of miscreants. With a scowl on his face, the cyborg walked up to the front door and gave it a trio of solid knocks. Since the front windows had been boarded up, he had no means to see inside the structure.
When a fourth, fifth, and sixth knock failed to merit any response, the raven-haired warrior let out a groan and stepped away from the door.
“Anyone ho—”
The syllable was still hanging in the air, unfished, when the front of the building erupted outward in a maelstrom of heat, light, and mortar. Seventeen managed to throw up his scrawny forearms to shield his face, but that was the best he could muster before the shockwave crashed into him and tore him off his feet. Like a surfer out of his league, the cyborg was swallowed up by the angry wave of fire and carnage as it crashed across the road, ravaging parked cars, benches, and street posts alike before dashing against the brick buildings on the far side of the Jacob’s Street.
RE: Consequences - Android 17 - 02-21-2017
As the initial layer of smog started to dissipate across Jacob’s Street, a pile of bricks and shattered wood started to shudder. A pair of shattered bricks fell away as a pale, bloodied hand forced itself up through the corpse of what had once been a storefront.
Feeling the breeze on his fingertips, Seventeen closed his eyes and mumbled one of his favorite phrases. A beat later, he felt the weight fade away as his aura kicked on around him and acted to quickly dispel the building materials. When he opened his eyes, he saw the roof of Coruscant—a city with a roof, ain’t that a hoot?—and smiled before dragging himself up to his feet.
His eyes had barely the time to focus on the scene across the street when he heard the sound of rifle magazines being slammed home and a variety of safeties being disengaged.
“What the fuck are you doing?” A gruff voice barked as Seventeen lolled his head in the direction of the speaker. While the edges of his field of vision were still a bit blurred, the cyborg could clearly see who was addressing him. The man held an impressive-looking Gatling gun in his meaty fists. If that wasn’t enough, he had three heavily armed goons standing on each side. “You dumb, boy? You just wasted a thousand credits worth of high-explosives.”
“A thousand?” Seventeen slurred, his speech muddled by a split lip and some blood sloshing around inside his mouth. “I weigh a buck sixty… you need to talk to your dealers.”
The man with the oversized gun scowled as he moved his hand toward the trigger. “Why you knocking on our door, anyway? What business do you got with El Lago?”
“I’m he—” the cyborg paused midsentence to turn his head and spit out a mouthful of blood. He turned back to his new acquaintances and flashed a blood-marred grin. “I’m here to drain the lake.”
Silence.
Seventeen scowled. “Well that’s bullshit,” he muttered before swinging up his hand. “Bang bang!” In quick succession, two beams of energy erupted from the cyborg’s right index finger. One passed cleanly through the skull of the goon to the gunner’s left, but the other slammed into the big man himself without the same pleasing results.
The gunner stumbled backwards as a slew of curses escaped his chapped lips. As he tried to right himself, his cronies opened fire on the machine-hybrid, who threw up a ki barrier and grimaced as the hail of automatic gunfire crashed against his shield. When the man paused, either to reload or upon seeing their lack of breakthrough, Seventeen dropped the barrier and retaliated with a quick one-two of ki spheres. He caught the familiar burst of a human skull being blasted apart by energy, but he had to dive as retaliatory fire stitched across the ravaged street toward him.
Diving slightly backwards, Seventeen crashed onto the sidewalk and dragged himself behind a burnout shell of a car as the roar of a Gatling gun filled the street. The car wailed as its steel started to buckle beneath the onslaught.
Sure do wish I could orb right about now… Fuck.
Reaching behind his head, Seventeen grabbed the Power Sword and closed his eyes. His senses confirmed that three of the men were dead, but the gunner and a surviving trio were still active. As the Gatling gun ate away at the machine-hybrid’s cover, the other three were trying to circle around him. The ebony-haired fighter would have to act quickly if he didn’t want to be pinned down and brutalized. With both hands clenched around the handle of the weapon, Seventeen open his eyes and leaned to the left.
The cyborg grit his teeth and tossed the sword. The blade flipped head-over-handle for a couple yards before its business end sank through the chest of an approaching goon. With a guttural shriek, the man fell backwards, his gun discharging up into the air as he reflexively squeezed on the trigger of his gun with his last vestiges of life.
Knowing that direction was empty, Seventeen lurched forward and made it to his knees just before the assault rifles tore into his former seat. The Gatling gun’s path started to stalk him as he raced over to the dead man and yanked the blade from his chest. With a quick motion, he sent the sword hurtling at the gunner, who let go of his trigger before moving from the weapon’s path.
Seventeen rushed forward before the others could draw a bead on him. When he got to the gunner, he drilled him in the face with a right cross and tore the heavy gun from his hands. Without skipping a beat, the cyborg turned the weapon on the gunner’s allies, who were too slow to react. In a matter of heartbeats, they were both lying on their backs with a few dozen tiny holes torn through their chests. Before he could turn to deal with the gunner, Seventeen felt a sharp pain in his calf that was followed by the more familiar sensation of cold steel twisting inside his flesh.
“Die, you fuck!” The gunner growled as he drew a sidearm. Before he could put his foe’s forehead into his sights, Seventeen brought the barrel of the Gatling gun crashing down onto the gunner’s skull.
Now bent and belching smoke from its delicate mechanism, the Gatling gun was discarded like yesterday’s trash as the cyborg fished into his pocket for the little key-thing that the soldiers had given him. Before he had a chance to find it, he heard the sound of footsteps from inside the shattered hideout. He looked up from the corpse just in time to see a small woman leaning against a charred doorframe.
“Looking for someone?” Her voice was smooth, and her accent would have probably done wonders on the more lustful crowds.
“El Lago,” Seventeen inquired as he let go of the trinket and took his hand back out of his side bag.
“How can I help you?” She cooed as a little smile spread across her caramel-colored visage.
“Shouldn’t it be ‘La Laga’ or something?” The machine-hybrid questioned as he glanced to the corpses that littered the street. Reaching out with his right hand, he feigned a smile as he telekinetically wrenched the knife from his calf and willed it into his waiting palm. “I think people want you dead, Lady.”
“What do you want me?” She asked with a wider grin.
“In my chat history,” the cyborg shot back as he threw the knife at her.
With a frown, El Lago pushed away from the doorframe and let the knife sail passed her head. She threw out one of her delicate palms, and a moment later, a blast of water with all the pressure of a firefighter’s hose slammed into the chest of the cyborg. It carried him for half the street before he got enough separation to free himself.
“Of course,” he muttered as he summoned the Power Sword to his hand and slid it back into its sheath. “Let’s roll."
RE: Consequences - Android 17 - 02-26-2017
The cyborg dashed forward, his eyes glued to the woman before him as she took a small step back. He found himself just outside the length of his arm when a burst of highly pressurized water struck him in the side of the skull. The impact shattered his momentum, and he staggered to the left just long enough to allow El Lago to drive a short knife through his abdomen.
“I got you,” she whispered before the cyborg jammed a bony elbow into her perfect little mouth. The gangster let out a muffled yelp and lost her grip on the blade. Before she could regain her bearings, Seventeen stomped down onto her right foot with enough force to crush the toes concealed in the thin boots she wore.
“Got you,” the machine-hybrid rasped as he swung forward with both his hands and bashed his adversary right below the throat. The initial impact stunned her, but the sudden discharge of ki was what sent her hurtling backwards like an errant tumbleweed. With El Lago seemingly stunned, Seventeen reached down and yanked out the knife.
He didn’t bother to look at the blood-soaked blade or take not of how shaky his hand had been before dumping the weapon on the ground. He remained focused on the woman rising to her feet inside the bombed-out store. Reaching behind his back, Seventeen drew the Power Sword and threw it like a javelin at El Lago.
Silent, the female gangster rolled to the left as the blade crashed into the ground next to her. With a subtle hand gesture, she sent a wave of water toward her cybernetic adversary.
He could have fallen back, but the cyborg opted to simply throw up his hands and summon another energy field to block him from the aquatic assault. When the water passed over his emerald bulwark, Seventeen dropped it down and looked for El Lago. Unfortunately, the woman was gone, and perhaps more infuriating was…
She took my sword?
With a scowl, Seventeen lifted his hands and started to edge his way toward the ‘entrance’ to the ruined structure. The gangster was going to come for him, and when she did, he wanted to be able to know her approach.
Fortunately for the raven-haired fighter, he didn’t have to wait long before his ki senses detected the subtle movements in his periphery. As he turned in the direction of the surges, Seventeen saw the glimmer of the sword as it came swinging toward the side of his skull.
RE: Consequences - Android 17 - 03-07-2017
At the last moment, the cyborg dropped to the ground as his stolen blade sliced through the sky above his ebony locks. Without wasting a beat, he threw out a palm and fired a quick burst of ki at the woman’s knee. El Lago let out a screech and stumbled backward, but even as she fell, she maintained the focus to send a firehose-like burst of water into the machine-hybrid’s chest. At their rather intimate proximity, the burst tore through Seventeen’s pair of shirts and tore up some of his skin before he could twist free and topple to the ground himself.
Quick to not linger in one spot, the cyborg drove his palms into the ground and pushed himself up as a kick came swinging at the side of his head. Dropping himself back down, Seventeen rolled onto his side and discharged a burst of energy at El Lago’s chest. The female cutthroat let out a grunt, but before she could shake off the impact, the cyborg was on his feet and stomping his boot down into her gut. The first thundering crunch caused her to scream out, but it was the second that caused blood to start sputtering out of her mouth.
Holding out a hand, Seventeen willed the Power Sword into his hand and took a step back as a clearly broken El Lago struggled to pull herself together. The woman made it to her knees just in time for the cyborg to draw the little key trinket and jam it into the space between her collarbones. Her eyes glazed over as she reached up to try and grab at the now glowing object.
Seventeen smiled and took a moment to wipe a little bit of blood from the corner of his mouth. “...I know I should have a pun right now, but…”
With a fluid motion, the cyborg cleaved the woman’s head from her shoulders.
Before it had reached the top of its apex, the severed cranium of the woman literally crumbled into dust as if it had been turned into brittle paper. On the ground in front of Seventeen, her corpse likewise broke apart in a matter of seconds, becoming a cloud of rainbow colored dust that hovered over the ground for a few moments before drifting around the man’s boots. As he watched, the remains of El Lago faded into his body, and while he didn’t feel any different, he knew something had changed.
…Omnilium? Something tiny in the back of his head told him that he should know that everything here was made of the stuff, but he had never really seen it in action much.
“Looks like the lake got…” Seventeen paused to sneer. “Evaporated.”
RE: Consequences - Trixie - 04-03-2017
The mission had gone awry. Judge Dredd had approved of Aisha being transferred under Trixie’s command. Now that she had two Imperial soldiers under her command, Dredd found it necessary to give her a foothold so she could work efficiently. After all, he didn’t like being interrupted for such matters. As such he filed the paperwork and Beatrix Zulenka was given the title of Second Lieutenant, Special Forces Division, Imperial Army, Regiment 13. Due to the nature of such a promotion the three members of Regiment 13’s newly acquired Special Forces team were flagged for Imperial Reconditioning and 6 months of boot camp in a secluded section of Tier 1. To begin within the week.
It was quite a lot to take in. The women of the 13th ISF (Imperial Special Forces) were being assigned to a whole regiment of Stormtroopers and were there to act as their sort of SWAT team should the need arise. Beatrix already had a headquarters, so the paperwork was put in and like nothing had ever happened supplies and equipment began pouring into her Tier 3 stronghold. It was a strange feeling to be back on the semi-good side of the Empire.
The 13th ISF were on their way back from a call for assistance that their regiment had placed on Tier 5. It had gone less than smoothly. It was her first day in the field and Aisha had completely destroyed her armor. A plasma detonator had gone off right by her torso, shredding her armor and searing most of her upper body. The critically wounded soldier lay strapped to a gurney, sedated and heavily medicated. Nova had attempted first aid, but nothing was helping. There was just too much blood for any sort of field dressing to be effective. They could only staunch the flow until the evacuation transport had arrived. They were now en route to base where the medical team would take her and the chances that they’d ever see Aisha alive again would slip lower for every moment she wasn’t being tended to.
Trixie unclasped her helmet with a sharp hiss escaping from the re-breather unit. Pulling the helmet from her head she let her hair fall into her vision, her eyes darting to Nova to see the blond staring down at her blood soaked hands through her helmet. So much blood had stained her that wet vitae was still dripping onto her legs.
“Terra, look at me.” Zulenka spoke through her headset.
Nova didn’t budge.
“November!” She said again, this time with more force to her tone.
Terra looked up at her superior officer and Trixie stared right back at the ARC Trooper designed helmet.
“She’ll be fine.”
That was a lie. Trixie didn’t know whether or not her newly acquired squad-mate was going to live. She began to feel relieved until both repuslor engines on their transport exploded simultaneously throwing Terra from the ship as it came crashing down into some alleyway in Tier 3.
Red coated the red-haired warriors vision as she managed to roll herself over onto her stomach.
Fucking hell.
Fluidly sliding her helmet over her face the HUD lit up and began loading. Aisha was still in the now burning transport and Nova was about three blocks up, vitals dangerously low. Trixie could feel the blood running down her face as her helmet sealed and she drew her pistol. It wasn’t until she took a step forward that her vision was drawn sharply to the piece of durasteel piercing her left leg. The only two remaining medical staff that had survived the crash began to pull the gurney holding Aisha out of the wreckage just as one of their heads exploded from incoming enemy fire.
Ragnos...I swear to fucking Diablo himself.
A sinister laugh echoed through Trixie’s consciousness as red target reticules began lighting up her helmet. Without hesitating she ripped the steel debris from her leg, forcing her armor to inject bacta and tighten around the wound to staunch bleeding. With that problem taken care of she opening fire and began dropping people who were encroaching on the crash site.
“Command, this is One-Three-Indigo-Sam-Foxtrot.” Trixie spoke into the radio.
“Go ahead for Command, One-Three.” A voice replied.
“Command, I need medivac and aerial support to Tier 3. Our medical transport was ambushed with surface to air missiles. Ensign Knudal took severe plasma burns during the mission, but Scout Sniper Terra was thrown from the ship during impact. I have life readings, but they’re low. Hostiles closing in, possible rebel retaliation for Bardan Jaxx.” The red-headed mistress reported.
“Copy One-Three. Hold tight for response.” The dispatcher replied.
Pressing her pistol to a choking enemy combatant’s forehead and pulling the trigger she examined his fallen corpse and sighed.
“Confirm rebel encounter on Tier 3. I have about thirty to forty enemy soldiers here. If the Empire is looking to make a statement, now is the time to do it. Just get us out of here.”
Trixie took off towards the smoldering transport to move Aisha into cover behind fallen debris with her medical aid. Taking the only remaining medic she had alive by the shoulder the red-headed officer pulled her in close.
“Keep her alive. Whatever the cost. I’m going to bring Nova back.”
The medic nodded leaving Zulenka to limp off into the distance towards her second fallen comrade.
RE: Consequences - Android 17 - 04-05-2017
A few minutes after Seventeen had ‘dealt with’ El Lago, he found himself standing outside the building that had served as the stormtrooper’s barracks during their operation. The trek back to the makeshift barracks had taken a little longer, because he found himself dragging his right boot—bloodied and swollen—the majority of the way.
As he approached the doors, they swung inward to reveal the unmoving features of a helmeted trooper. Before Seventeen had a chance to respond, he found himself staring down the barrel of a nasty-looking rifle. “Identify yourself.”
The cyborg scowled as he held up his left hand and used his right hand to reach into the pocket of his tattered blue jeans. A beat later, he retrieved the scorched trinket left behind by the corpse of El Lago. “I took care of your issue up the street,” Seventeen muttered as he tossed the object toward the trooper. Before the rifle-wielding trooper could react, a soldier in fancier armor had already caught the device and stepped up next to his subordinate.
“You’re dismissed,” the caped trooper barked as the doorman slinked off into the complex. The man’s helmeted countenance swung back to the machine-hybrid. “Excellent. You banished the terrorist?”
“Yea, I guess.” Seventeen responded. “I jammed the little think into her and she went blam!” To emphasize his point, the raven-haired warrior made sure to pantomime a gratuitous explosion with his bony, bloody fingers.
The caped trooper tilted his helmet before glancing back at the scorched trinket. There was a few more moments of silence before he simply slipped the device into his pocket and gestured into the compound. “I believe you. We’ll know for sure in a few hours, when we send out the cleaners.” The trooper turned and took a step into the Imperial complex.
“You’re going to renovate that nice little street?” Seventeen snickered, sarcasm oozing from his every pore.
The remark made the lead trooper stop mid-step and glance over his shoulder. “We’re going to scrub the place. With fire. Purge any remaining rogue elements that may have provided El Lago and her filth with materiel or safe harbor.”
“Do you salt the earth afterwards?” Seventeen laughed.
The trooper tilted his helmet. “Do you suspect fel magicks? Should I call the arcanists?”
Fucking incredible.
“No, I don’t think so.” The raven-haired warrior replied as the trooper gestured for him to follow before setting off into the barracks. “So do I get to go now?” He asked as he trailed the lead soldier through the rundown structure, through a short hallway, and finally into a dimly illuminated backroom. “Or is this the part where I get tied to a chair and bludgeoned?”
Without turning to address the scrawny human, the lead trooper reached up under the sides of his helmet and triggered some concealed latches of some sort. The helmet let out a sigh of compressed air from both sides before it was pulled up off the soldier’s head.
As the white helmet came away, red hair was the first thing the cyborg saw—red hair down to the bottom of the soldier’s shoulder blades. With a thunk the heavy helmet was dropped onto a nearby desk, and the man turned around to reveal that the cyborg had been guilting of gender assumptions. Instead of a butch guy in his late forties with a perfect crew cut and a chin that could cut through steel, the leader of the rundown barracks was a young woman in her late twenties with soft, caramel-colored features and unnerving blue eyes.
“I’m Lieutenant Bianca Skleros with the 13th Legion,” the woman said as she reached a gauntleted hand out for a shake. “Your file said that you’re… Seventeen? As in, the number?”
“Like the number,” the cybernetic warrior assured her. “My sister and I were science fair projects for some looney toon when were little.”
Bianca smirked. “You spend long enough in this place, and you won’t feel so unique.” Walking around the central table, the woman moved her helmet to the side and flipped open a previously unnoticed panel on her forearm plating to reveal a small screen and keyboard. After inputting a quick sequence, she opened up her palm as a small diode at the center of her palm shined a holographic image down onto the dingy steel table.
RE: Consequences - Trixie - 05-02-2017
Nova hobbled her way to the door of her infirmary room. A group of HK units were wheeling a gurney down the hallway under armed guard. Though one eye had bandages covering it, she could make out the outline of a female corpse under the sheet that covered the steel apparatus. As she gripped the metallic door frame and rested her weight against it a medical HK turned to face the blond.
“Please return to your bed. I have been directed by Staff Sergeant Zulenka to make sure you two remain in this room and recover.” the droid placed both hands to Nova’s shoulders and turned her around, pushing the injured woman back to her bed.
“Sergeant? What the fuck is going on, Veronica?” Nova pleaded with the base AI.
“I’m sorry, Terra. According to rudimentary bio-metric scans from the damaged sensors on Trixie’s armor she is nearing her breaking point. It is advised to follow orders. There are things going on that will be explained. For now...just focus on yourself.”
Damaged!?
Nova pushed passed the medical droid and stumbled out into the hallway. Red had begun to show through the bandages wrapped around her torso.
“Miss Terra. Are you going to make me sedate you?” Two medical droids exited from a nearby room and were upon her. Lifting the woman up they dragged her back to her bed.
“What is going on!? Why can’t I leave!?” The blond shouted in a panic as they restrained her, injecting a healthy dose of sedative into her arm.
Aisha was still unconscious, her right forearm cybernetic still wrapped in surgical gauze and powered down. It was customary to let the body adjust to the new connections before switching it on fully. As Nova’s vision became blurry she watched as two combat droids stood at attention near their door. With the click it was locked and the world fell into darkness.
Down the hall, two maintenance droids pulled the sheet down on the gurney.
“Cybernetic Female.” One chimed.
“Begin memory dump. Filename Luna Zero One.” Veronica communicated through the other.
***
The door to the Colonel’s office opened and Trixie strolled through. Felix Gallant was a war veteran and her new high-level commanding officer. He didn’t play games and didn’t appreciate insubordination.
Neither did Trixie.
The red-headed mistress was at the end of her rope. Her vision was barely in focus and her body screamed at her as she mustered the energy to salute and stand at attention for her superior.
“There has been some restructuring of the officers in the 13th and you are now needed at the NCO level, Lieutenant. I don’t have any other experienced soldiers to put in that position or I’d have done it. You’ll be the only non-commissioned trooper I have who has tangled with a Prime and hasn’t floundered.”
Trixie held her tongue, but bit her lip in frustration.
“You are now a Staff Sergeant. I am keeping your pay grade the same as it was before. Aisha Knudal is now Specialist and November Terra is a Corporal. The Lieutenant down at the 13th HQ has a new recruit that I’m going to be assigning to you as your Sergeant. His name is…”
Felix shifted some papers on his desk.
“Seventeen. He’s being briefed by Lieutenant Skleros whom you will report to from now on.”
Trixie relaxed her body and sighed. Using her innate strength she ripped the Lieutenant branded part of her armor from her biceps and tossed them into the waste bin by the Colonel’s desk.
“Anything else, sir?” She asked. A desire to kill him swelled within her.
“Is this a problem for you, Sergeant?” Felix asked, an incredulous tone oozing through his voice.
Trixie bit down on her bottom lip hard.
“Permission to speak freely, Colonel?”
“Granted, Zulenka.”
As the words rolled over Gallant’s lips the mistress met his gaze with her tired pink eyes and excused herself from the room silently. Before the Colonel could say anything his office door was closed and she was proceeding through the reception area towards the lobby. His secretary had handed her a package containing the requisition order for new armor fit for her rank and the proper documentation. Tucking it under one arm she stepped out into the pouring rain. The water masked her tears as she trudged her way towards the elevator that would bring the Sith to Tier 3. Marka Ragnos’ words rang through her mind once again.
She needed a way to give him a corporeal form that would rival the Emperor.
But how?
RE: Consequences - Android 17 - 05-04-2017
While he had been expecting some sort of map with blips and arrows, the hologram had been a recorded message. The speaker was someone called Colonel Gallant, which apparently meant he was some tough shit or something. Like many things with the Omniverse, Seventeen wondered how much the man had actually dealt with over the last however many years he had been kicking around in this place.
A one-way electronic missive, Gallant had spoken a lot of nonsense, but the gist of his message was clear. Seventeen had been ‘recruited’ into the Imperial military service. Where the Empire drew the line between soldier and policeman, the cyborg didn’t know. The colonel told him that he would be operating with the 13th Legion, which made the woman next to him one of his ‘superiors.’ A perennial embodiment of ‘fight the power’ and ‘fuck the police’, Seventeen balked at the notion of having to wear fatigues and dive into foxholes. Or would they force him to dress up in one of those white, plastic-looking suits? Unfortunately, he didn’t feel like getting thrown into whatever sort of nonsense they used to jail magical beings who could will shit into existence and melt the world around them with their thoughts.
“So does this make me a cop?” Seventeen asked once the message had concluded. “Do I get a badge?”
Lieutenant Skleros scowled as she closed the device on her wrist and went to retrieve her helmet. “You’re an Imperial soldier, not a beat trooper.” She replied as tied back her hair and popped the white helm down over her face. Once it had clicked into place and sealed back up with a whoosh of pressurized air, she turned and gestured toward the exit.
“What’s next?” Seventeen asked. “Basic training? Drill sergeant?”
“Your mouth doesn’t stop,” the woman replied, her voice once again partially muffled and gender incoherent through the helmet’s voice tech. “You’re going to be paired with a Staff Sergeant, who should be arriving shortly. Once she’s here, you’ll be given further instructions on how you will be utilized by the 13th and the Imperial military.”
“Lady sergeant?” Seventeen inquired. “Man, for a fascist dictatorship, this place sure does bludgeon you with the strong female lead trope, doesn’t it?”
The lieutenant, ignoring the scrawny man’s question, stepped out of the room and gave him another gesture to follow. “The transport should already be outside.”
Seventeen followed Bianca back through the barracks to the front room where he’d first entered the compound. By the time they arrived, the doors were already parted. A figure outfitted in a version of the Stormtrooper armor strode through the opening and paused as it swung shut. Although the basics were the same, the new arrival’s armor had a variety of accents and modifications that made it stand out from its peers. Some blue color accents on the shoulders, knees, boots, and hands gave a bit of flair that the run-of-the-mill troopers lacked. Instead of the little cape that the lieutenant wore, the new arrival was clad in a heavy cloak, and a heavy belt could be spotted around the waist.
The cyborg leaned in toward the lieutenant. “You could use some racing stripes to really make your outfit pop.”
Since the woman wore a helmet, Seventeen couldn’t tell if he got a reaction out of her. She simply stepped forward and shared a salute with the new arrival. “Welcome, Staff Sergeant Zulenka.”
Without a response, the trooper peeled off her helmet and dropped it onto a nearby bench. A stern yet attractive face fell upon the raven-haired man and the lieutenant. “Reporting for duty, Ma’am.” Although cordial, it was clearly evident that the woman had zero desire to be down in the barracks.
RE: Consequences - Trixie - 05-13-2017
As Trixie set down her damaged helmet and tossed her shredded cloak to the couch in Bianca’s office, a beep came through on her datapad.
“Trixie…” The Lieutenant cautioned.
Taking the device from her belt she pulled it open and reviewed the transmission.
Jaxx in custody. Imperial Intelligence claiming authority?
“What the fuck!? Why didn’t you tell me!?”
“It just came through the wire. I’ve already filed an injunction to get military authority. Considering it is confirmed that he was a rebel cohort, Dredd will have taken an interest and will overrule Imperial Intelligence's’ claim. You’ll be the first to know when he’s in our custody. For now? I need you to get your new Sergeant setup with you down on Tier 3 and make sure he gets all of the equipment he needs to support you.”
Lieutenant Bianca took a clipboard and flipped through it.
“I’ve also sent a shipment of the correct supplies that Specialist Knudal and Corporal Terra will need.”
The commanding officer flicked through her own datapad and nodded.
“It’s been marked as received by your droids.”
Trixie looked down at her fists, the armor had been blown away and ripped apart from her encounter with that green Prime. Various lacerations and scars littered her arms. With a sigh she relaxed her grip, sliding the datapad back into her belt pocket.
“Sergeant Seventeen is it?” The redhead said, looking toward her new recruit.
Trixie sighed as sparks flew from her broken helmet. The heads up display had likely shorted. It was useless now.
“Did that new Prime rough you up like that?” The CO asked.
“That and I’ve been on station non-stop for the past week. Someone keeps diverting all calls to my unit, Bianca! I haven’t been able to get a moment to myself. Both Knudal and Terra almost died in a rebel ambush.”
Trixie pointed a finger at her newly appointed commander.
“You want a functioning Special Forces detachment for the 13th? Give us a fucking break and let us actually put on armor that isn’t completely dead.”
Trixie bit her lip to keep from shouting. “I think the last remaining section of internal components died as I walked in here. This armor is completely toast and yet I had to subdue a Prime I had never seen before. On top of that, before I could even change I was escorted to the Colonel’s office, demoted, and sent here.”
“How do I get out of this chickenshit outfit?” Seventeen said with a smirk.
“Exactly!” Trixie agreed, her voice now booming through the office.
“The 13th ISF is, and let me make this very clear, NOT combat ready, Bianca. If you need a Special Forces team in the next 72 hours you’ll need to pull from the 18th Battalion.”
“Fine, Staff Sergeant. You’ve made your point. Consider your squad offline for the next 72 hours.” The Lieutenant sighed and made a gesture with her finger over the screen of her datapad.
Picking up her broken helmet the Sith Mistress slid it over her head. The optics were dead, but she didn’t need them to see. Ever since her time in the Underverse, Trixie could sense everything around her and, through the Force, see her surroundings in perfect clarity. Albeit she saw microseconds into the future, her mind was capable of deciphering that information. Beckoning to 17 she exited the Commanding Officer’s Barracks and headed to the landing pad where her transport was waiting.
***
It was a short journey to Tier 3. They had flown under Imperial escort. Trixie was exhausted and was in desperate need of a shower, some pain medication, and sleep. As the transport touched down inside the garage on the bottom level of Beatrix’s base her mind finally gave out. Mistress Zulenka fell face first out of the Multi Altitude Aerial Assault Transport and onto the concrete floor.
“Should someone...maybe help her?” Seveteen said, stepping down.
A smiling woman came walking up to the duo as the pilot climbed down out of the vehicle and headed inside. She was followed by a pair of medical HK-Units and six combat-ready HK-Units.
“The medics will handle Staff Sergeant Zulenka. I’ll show you to your room, Seventeen.”
“And you are?”
“I’m Meredith. A caretaker here. Since you’re one of the actual squad members you’ll be getting a full sized apartment on the main housing floor where the rest of the squad resides. Apartment Eighteen.”
Meredith had blue-green hair and a friendly smile, but her brownish eyes held a darker secret. The black haired android swore he could also see a deep blood red color fighting to come through. The new caretaker of the base beckoned for the Sergeant to follow her.
RE: Consequences - Storyteller - 05-18-2017
Soft. Little. THING!
The unconscious Beatrix Zulenka was thrown from her bed into a black void. She sank into what seemed like water until her mind was forcibly awoken and she burst to the surface, gasping for air, retching the putrid black liquid from her lungs. As quickly as she began to tread water the liquid vanished and the redhead was thrust onto a cold stone floor. A searing and excruciating pain forced the mistress to press her hand to her left side. The brand Diablo had given her was melting itself into her flesh once again. So much so that the demonic flames flickered through her fingers and destroyed her hand. Trixie cried out in anguish, her voice echoing through the emptiness.
“I give you the gift of freedom and you waste it!” The words literally burned through Trixie’s mind, smoke gently wafting up from her ears.
“I haven’t had a chance, my lord! There has been nothing-”
The mistress’ rebuttal was cut short as a large clawed hand reached out and ripped away one of her arms at the elbow. Releasing a bloodcurdling scream, Trixie squeezed her eyes shut only to find herself immediately healed and standing in the middle of a banishment circle, minus the final rune. The rapid change was shattering to her consciousness. The Sith looked down at her body to see that she wasn’t wearing anything. Her brand was blazing red under her left breast and hot to the touch. Dropping to her knees, Trixie let her hair fall over her face.
“Name what it is you wish me to do.” She pleaded.
Diablo, still masked by the darkness, huffed.
“There is a warrior in the custody of Imperial Forces.”
His words were deafening. The Terror Lord stepped out of his veil of shadow, igniting everything around him. Wrapping his hand around Trixie’s neck he lifted his minion to face level.
“Banish him and I will consider letting you stay up here. As for dealing with your lack of effort...”
Diablo punctured one of the spines protruding from his wrist into Beatrix’s stomach. Slowly she began to ignite from the inside out. Her flesh began to sizzle and burn away, the black charred remains falling away. As her body steadily fell apart the mistress saw the image of a man float into her mind. This was her target. This was who she was to retrieve for Diablo. As the portrait faded into nothingness Trixie awoke to the surprise of the medical droid who had been trying to restart her heart. Coughing violently she pulled the intubation tube from her throat and rolled off the bed, bringing down her IV bags and gasping for air.
Quote:Trixie now has a target from Diablo that she must banish to appease him.