Hell Strain

[Lord Zedd]

It had been an uneventful several months for the almighty Lord Zedd. Shortly after his return from the ill-fated endeavor that had been Dante’s Abyss, he’d returned to his typical service. With his previous history of inciting mass chaos on the entire seventh tier, despite its irrelevance, as well as stirring up the tier four and five gangs by attacking a prominent gang member, he’d been given simpler assignments on the higher tiers since his return to Coruscant. It hadn’t curbed his ruthlessness any, and only made him more stir crazy. Simple missions had been carried forward with extreme and unnecessary prejudice, at least in the eyes of his superiors. Zedd was infuriated to be essentially working a beat, yet his definite skill clearly remained from a life before he conquered the known universe. Before he ended up here.

With his patience already past his limit, he stormed into one of the many Imperial buildings on the first tier. He hadn’t been in this one for some time, as he’d been bounced around between other subordinates that tried to tame his fury with various degrees of failure. Finally, after months of slaughtering his way through Coruscant’s minor infractions, he was back in the office of Captain Desh, the man who had originally set him up within the Empire. As he marched in, he saw a dark haired man in a pressed suit standing beside the desk the Stormtrooper captain sat comfortably at. It was of no immediate concern.

“What is it you want, you insufferable obstacle to my ascension?” Zedd demanded of the captain as he entered the office.

“Been awhile, Zedd,” Desh calmly commented, never looking up from his paperwork as usual.

“Lord Zedd,” the prime remained firm on how he was to be addressed, despite it never panning out. “Have you finally given up on letting your fledgling leaders try to contain my raw power?”

“Actually, its out of my hands now,” Desh casually said, then pointed at the other man with his pen. “He’s your direct and only supervisor from here on.”

Zedd’s head abruptly turned towards the man who dared to attempt to rule over him. Even while devoid of facial expressions, his reaction was easy to read.

“Identify yourself, immediately,” Zedd ordered the mysterious individual before him.

“I am Agent Tate Schell,” the man replied with a light chuckle. “Come, let us talk away from here.”

“Please do,” Desh bluntly requested.

Zedd shot one final, fleeting look of unnoticed contempt towards the man that set him on this path through the Imperial hierarchy, before turning and following the Imperial agent from the office.

“Desh’s indifference was a constant chore for me to navigate,” Zedd remarked as they made their way down the hallway. “Tell me, Schell, what obstinate quality do you possess?”

“You are the second unique prime I’ve had to deal with,” Schell explained. “You and the one before you never quite fell into Imperial structure or command very well. That, and you both participated in Dante’s Abyss. I would still be dealing with the other, had he not abandoned the Empire as a whole and foolishly made himself a wanted man.”

“I understand,” Zedd nodded as they walked. “You’re boring.”

“Consider me your new leash, Zedd,” Tate sharply stated, feeling compelled to get to the point.

“Lord Zedd.”

“You’re removed from the street level work, but you’ll respond to me directly from here on out,” Tate continued, unimpeded by Zedd’s interruption. “Because of their experience with you and the fact you haven’t run them off like anyone else you’ve been grouped with in the past months, your four stormtroopers will fall under my command as well when they return from the Vasty Deep.”

“You are not beginning on a strong footing with me,” Zedd snarled through his visor as they walked.

“Now, now,” the Imperial agent chuckled. “I hear they’re doing quite well over there. Lots of hands on experience. They may even get into the specialty schools they requested.”

“We are drifting dangerously close to idle conversation. I recommend you correct this course,” Zedd snapped abruptly.

Tate stopped his stride, and Zedd only took one further step before halting as well. The prime turned to face the new Imperial in his life with growing animosity. It didn’t take much.

“Your first mission will have no room for failure. Is that understood?” Tate snapped.

“I have yet to fail,” Zedd sharply replied.

“Very well,” Tate calmed himself a bit before continuing, allowing his cocky demeanor to take over once more. “Your first mission will be to recover a stolen car.”

A silence fell between them as Zedd was at last without an immediate quip. Instead, complete disbelief washed over him. He thought he was above such menial tasks by now.

“Surely you jest,” Zedd broke the silence with scathing judgment. “You would have me deal with something so trivial to start our new relationship? I though I had advanced beyond Desh and his petty tasks.”

“The car is important to the high ranking scientist that owns it,” Tate explained. “The contents are important to the Empire as a whole. Is that understood?”

After another beat of silence, Zedd allowed himself to slip into maniacal laughter. Of course, whatever was contained in the car may be important, but this grunt didn’t know what it was, exactly.  To think he’d been fooled about this man’s level of authority by his slick tongue. He really was succumbing to the Imperial system.

“Yes, of course,” Zedd cackled as he walked away. “Just point me in the appropriate direction.”

As Agent Schell pulled out his datapad, he glared at Zedd with contempt. After his previous failure to contain a rogue prime he was being closely watched. Zedd was a testing ground for him, and he wouldn’t let this prime’s ego get in his way. He showed Zedd all the information he had on the car’s location, but continued to glance hatefully at the skinless prime. Only Tate understood it, but both men saw each other the same way: as just another to reach the top of the ladder.

Tate was simply ahead of the curve.

[Lord Zedd]

It had been awhile since Lord Zedd graced tier four with his presence. If he’d had a say in the matter then he wouldn’t have, but this was where the stolen vehicle had ended up being tracked to. It certainly would stand out on this level of of the Imperial verse, which would make his visit to this increasingly decrepit layer of the Emperor’s grasp wondrously short.

But alas, he was here, so he would make the most of it. This was made evident when the doors to the small, out of the way chop shop burst from their hinges, revealing the deposed dark lord in plain view for the mechanics to see. The men working on the various vehicles scrambled and drew their weapons, though Zedd didn’t take this as any sort of confirmation he was in the correct place. A combination of this tier and his own entrance led him to believe this reaction would be the norm, not the exception. Still, he decided it best to offer a fleeting chance at surrender, if only out of lazy desire to be done with this task instead of any inclination for mercy.

“Bottom feeders of Coruscant, I have come for the stolen Imperial ve-”

Gunfire erupted in his direction, tearing into his flesh to no avail. Finally, some weapons that appropriately matched to his immense strength. Still, he found himself annoyed at the results of this attempt to bargain. It wasn’t like he had to choose between the easy way or the hard way, more like the easy way and the inefficient way. Such was life.

“Apparently I must slaughter you all, then!” Zedd frustratedly bellowed over the loud, echoing gunfire that filled the shop’s uninsulated walls as he stood unharmed by the assault.

He raised his staff and unleashed a bolt of lightning into the nearest chest cavity to him, detonating it into the appropriate amount of visceral matter. The sight of their comrade’s death in such an extravagant manner was thankfully enough to scare off the ones only trying to collect a paycheck. The room quickly emptied of criminals via its other exits, though two remained to continue firing their ballistic weaponry at Zedd. Perhaps it was loyalty to the organization, or even to the slain man, but it made no difference to the Imperial prime. Zedd stomped heavily into the hail of gunfire and towards the nearest man, raising his staff long enough to shoot another lightning bolt into the other. When he closed the gap enough, the final mechanic was beginning to cower backwards, but it was too late to save himself from being impaled on the bladed end of Zedd’s staff.

Agent Tate Schell entered the building from the same entrance Zedd had used while the prime removed his weapon from the dead secondary. Zedd glanced over as Schell began to walk down the lines of cars and scanned each one. He didn’t even know his handler had followed him, not that it particularly mattered to him. If he had, he might have given one of the gangsters the opportunity to hide and ambush the insufferable agent. Maybe he would still be so lucky.

Zedd approached as Schell stopped before a half dismantled hovercar of some sort. It looked like one that the upper class of tiers one and two utilized to show off their vast fortunes.

“You didn’t think I’d be along with you, did you?” Agent Schell chuckled as he felt around for the trunk release.

“I did not,” Zedd bluntly admitted.

“I’m quite skilled at stealth and subterfuge,” Schell stated, looking briefly to Zedd. “You would do well to remember that.”

“This is the face I make when you fail to impress me,” Zedd announced through his rigid mask.

Schell emitted a gruff scoff before opening the trunk. It was completely empty, as he feared upon seeing the state of the car. He clenched his fists in deep frustration for a moment while weighing his options. He needed this to go well, and the situation was certainly spiraling away from him.

“Apparently promptness alludes you,” Zedd couldn’t resist mocking his handler.

Tate turned to him with an angry scowl, having little patience for Zedd’s attitude by now. “This concerns you too, Zedd.”

“It most certainly does not,” Zedd instantly retorted.

“We have to find the contents of the vehicle, or there could be serious repercussions,” Schell snapped at his prime. “This place is affiliated with a gang that operates on tier six, its good money that once they discovered what they had it was shipped down there.”

“And what exactly do they have?” Zedd demanded.

“It’s a briefcase,” Schell curtly answered.

“And if I find it empty, what do I look for at the next destination?” Zedd’s frustration was beginning to build too.

“You won’t have to worry about that, because I’ll be shadowing you every step of the way,” Schell taunted, taking a little bit of control back in this exchange.

Wondrously to Lord Zedd, there was the sound of shouting outside. The fleeing felons had returned with friends, which was actually exactly what he needed to get his leverage back.

“No, you will not,” Zedd boldly declared. “Tell me now.”

“They’re back, Zedd,” Schell said as he drew his pistol. “We’ll fight our way out, and then head down to the lower tier.”

“No, Schell, I fought my way in, but you will fight your way out,” Zedd retorted. “I will walk out, unharmed by their weapons and without impeding them. They will storm in here and you will be unable to stalk me. Tell me now what I seek, or risk it being lost forever.”

Schell’s eyes widened at the audacity of such a plan. “You wouldn’t dare!”

A burst of machine gun fire tore into the building, causing Schell to dive for cover but Zedd to remain motionless. The bullets struck Zedd’s exposed muscle layers, but did not phase him in the slightest.

“Goddammit, Zedd!” Schell screamed as the dark lord did nothing to slow the progress of the incoming goons. He was forced to return fire from his cover on his own, while Zedd stood passively to the side. “It’s a case of green vials labeled ‘Hell Strain!’ There are six vials, with green liquid. Each one needs to be accounted for.”

“Very well, good luck,” Zedd calmly said.

Without any hesitation, Zedd turned and walked into the incoming gunfire and the gangsters moving semi-tactically through the building. He brought no harm to any of them, except for one that he had to shove out of the doorway so he could exit. Agent Schell used the confusion to mount his own offensive with only his pistol, so that he too could escape, but he was already left behind. By the time he was done here catching up with Zedd would be no easy task.

[Lord Zedd]

Another tier, another door Zedd violently ripped from its hinges. The deposed warlord marched into a warehouse that managed to be even more bleak and depressing than the previous one he’d slaughtered his way through. The peons responsible for it appeared to be prepared for him, this time, as they were all braced with firearms behind the various forms of cover that littered the place. It was inconsequential to one as mighty as Lord Zedd.

“You better back out of here!” one of the insignificant minions shouted.

“Fools!” Zedd bellowed, raising his staff once more. “I am Lord Zedd, Emperor of a-”

From the shadows a hidden figure leaped onto Zedd’s back, wielding nothing more than a small syringe. As the dark lord roared in surprise, the man quickly plunged it into his neck and drained all the contents into the stunned prime. Zedd was quick to throw the man aside, and rip the device from his mutilated flesh. A quick glance at the vial showed him that this was the “Hell Strain” he had been sent to recover. Furious at the indignation, he shattered the glass in his palms and marched forward. No one would escape this time.

However, he only made it three steps before he suddenly found himself in a completely different place. The enemy filled warehouse deteriorated around him, and he found himself only in a dark temple. Metal became sand and stone, and the cramped and crowded environment of gave way to a flat arena with no visible exit. Most importantly, a handful of inconsequential foes were replaced a single one at the center of the area. One he took very seriously.

Before Zedd stood the Red Ranger. Not just any one of them, though, this one was the original power that he knew best, but in recent times he’d been led to believe had been destroyed. The circumstances of this encounter eluded him. Was he hallucinating? Had he been transported? Heaven forbid, had they managed to banish him in a surprise attack? He’d heard tales of a land beyond his greatest horrors, and surely one of the six powers that angered him most would be a worthy inclusion. He would not falter, however. Just like everything else in this cursed land, they were destined to fall before him. The only question was, which insufferable Red Ranger was he facing?

“I don’t know how you ended up here, Jason, but it doesn’t matter,” Zedd taunted, assuming he was facing the mightier of the two immediately. The Ranger offered no response, so he continued his taunting. “Or is that you, Rocky? Did you bite off more than you can chew?”

Once more the Ranger didn’t respond, but that’s when Zedd noticed the finer detail of the matter. He was standing in a bladed stance, one that was unnecessary for a Ranger but instead might be forged from habit after years as a secret agent before ever touching a power coin. Jason Lee Scott was always firm in his stance and ready to hold his place or fight forward, while Rocky DeSantos was always prepared to maximize his agility and speed in an encounter. Clearly, this Ranger wasn’t either of them. It was someone far more ancient and far more familiar.

“No, its you, isn’t it?” Zedd spoke his realization aloud. “The most foolish of all to show himself here, but in this twisted world little surprises me.”

“It’s you,” the Ranger calmly reminded him.

Zedd scoffed loudly at such an asinine accusation, regardless of the degree of truth it held. “I haven’t thought of that life in over ten thousand years, you think some mind game in this absurd reality could change that?”

“Your body is already reacting, forging the coin with the power of Omnilium as we speak,” the Ranger replied.

“Don’t waste my time,” Zedd growled angrily.

“If only you hadn’t come to the Omniverse,” the Ranger lamented. “You were so close to being free.”

“I was close to seizing complete control!” Zedd roared at his enemy. “But that world, this world, it doesn’t matter. Wherever I am, I climb to the top and establish my rule as the only true emperor!”

“You’ll just have to see,” the Ranger solemnly replied, as he and the world around him began to fade away.

Zedd went to move forward, to assault his foe, but in an instant he was back in the warehouse. He found himself winded, gasping for breath at a kneel as he recoiled from the effects of the toxin. His blood littered the ground, and he felt bullet holes and gashes all over him. The savages had assaulted him with their primitive tools once he was under the virus’s influence, but they had failed to kill him. Instead, their own bodies littered the area around him. Zedd had a good idea why.

“Good thing I came after you,” Tate Schell snarled from behind him. “They might have killed you.”

“They would not have,” Zedd declared as he stood up, and turned to face the agent. “Was that the Hell Strain?”

“It was,” Schell answered. “Evidently it doesn’t affect a prime as much as some weaker secondaries. They do that to a lot of people for a longer time, if they refine it.”

“I see,” Zedd did not denounce the virus like he did everything else in the Empire. After what it did to him, the thoughts and voices still bouncing around his head… this one was for real.

“It’s gone, now, though,” Schell snapped. “The trail is cold, and we’ll have to start over. This wouldn’t have happened if you had worked with me.”

“I feel that goes both ways,” Zedd retorted.

Schell scoffed, but turned and began to leave regardless. “Don’t think it won’t show up on my report.

Zedd looked down at his right hand, where sure enough the Tyrannosaurus power coin rested in his palm. He’d hidden it from the Imperial agent. He could have summoned it and its powers at any point in his stay here, but that life was long behind him. Yet, now a hallucination had been so powerful that he involuntarily summoned it. He would keep it, for the resource if nothing else. Just as troubling that he’d summoned it was the fact that something could make him do that. It needed to be looked into.

With a final scoff, Zedd departed the warehouse after Schell.