The situation on the street had gone from bad to significantly worse as the broken remains of Able Company and Bravo Company ‘advanced in the opposite direction’ toward their fallback rally point. Trixie had tied Nova to her back with the help of her Sergeant Major; the blonde had a compound fracture of her left femur and was effectively out of the battle. The duo had stopped to splint the wound, tourniquet her leg, and give her a syrette of bacta for pain. She had landed a little too hard on a pile of debris after narrowly avoiding a tank shell burst. As the duo sprinted their way across one of the last remaining intersections they were cut off by a squad of flanking rebels. Pushing Seventeen back into the building they had just exited from, the redhead cut the straps holding her lovers body up and carefully passed the blond to her second in command.
“Get her to the landing zone. It’s two streets over. Charlie company has already landed with armor and vehicles. Dog and Fox are minutes behind them.” Beatrix commanded as she removed her helmet and placed it on the ground next to them, tying Nova to Seventeen’s back with the remaining climbing line she had in her personal kit.
“What about you Captain!?” The rave-haired cyborg asked, unsure of what his commanding officer was planning to do.
“I’m going to buy you time.”
Seventeen grabbed his commanders--no--his friends chest plate and pulled her close. “That’s suicide.”
The ground rumbled beneath them. Fires bloomed high over the nearby buildings as screams rang out from the retreating columns.
"They need help or they're dead," Trixie remarked as she watched fresh pillars of smoke billow up from where the remnants of Able and Bravo had staked out their withdrawal. "I can take care of myself."
Seventeen scowled as he stole a glance to where the columns had vanished just minutes earlier. He knew the woman's game, but that didn't make it less true. "I'll be back for you," he said before breaking into a sprint.
She managed a smile, watching them run off, before breaking through the wall she was standing behind and emptying out into the street. The rebels had ceased firing, unsure of what to make of the lone Imperial soldier walking casually toward their front line. The Sergeant Major wasn’t about to waste this opportunity to gain some distance. He continued down the street carrying Nova on his back, images of Aisha flashing through his mind, and through his periphery he saw an enemy tank line up and take a shot. As the cyborg reached the corner he saw the round explode in front of his Captain, enveloping her in thick flames and billowing black smoke. The ground buckling under the shockwave of the blast, littering the area with bits and pieces of concrete and asphalt.
“TRIXIE!” Nova shouted, groggy from the pain medication and loss of blood.
Seventeen backpedaled away, his eyes never leaving the cloud of smoke where his best friend used to be. It was when a single blue saber pierced the flames and a soot stained mech unit came walking out from within the crater in the street that the Sergeant Major felt sure that Trixie knew what she was doing.
“Tallgeese ExoSkeleton at 100%. Ready for combat.” An automated voice spoke into Trixie’s new ear piece.
Exploding forward with thrust powered movement the Mistress sliced through the middle of the medium tank that had just fired at her. It exploded taking out the rebel soldiers on either side. Diving into the squad of rebels the Mistress grabbed one of them by the leg and, wielding him like a blunt weapon, began knocking back his friends. Ripping the man in half and showering her new armor in blood left the Sith Warrior open for a tank shot from another vehicle stationed back where they had fled from. The main column of rebel soldiers had caught up. Deciding to ignore the risk of friendly fire the enemy had given the order to take her out. An incendiary round dug into Trixie’s right shoulder and exploded, removing the entire right half of her newly acquired armor, forcing the rest of dissipate in a cloud of Omnilium as the advance processor couldn’t repair the damage. While the squad that the red-head had been attacking was dead, she was now back in her normal --extremely tattered-- armor face down in a pool of her own blood that was slowly creeping along the ground.
From the direction of the shot, just like she had sensed, two more companies of rebel soldiers with their remaining medium tank arrived on scene marching in orderly fashion. Out in front was a cloaked woman who ordered the column to halt before stepping out into the middle of the destroyed intersection to inspect Trixie’s body. Rolling the redhead over, the blonde commander grinned as what was left of the Sith Mistress’ skin peeled away from her right side having adhered to the molten asphalt. Without warning Trixie planted two feet to the woman’s chest and pushed her back.
“You’re a hard woman to bring down, Zulenka.” The enemy commander said as she regained her balance. “What was your plan? To hold all of my men here while your soldiers retreated?”
Zulenka was now in extreme pain whilst lying on her back. That cheap shot had interrupted her bodies attempt to reconnect muscle tissue in her torso, causing fresh tearing and internal hemorrhaging. Using every ounce of her strength Zulenka pulled herself into a seated position, managing to get into a crouch, keeping one hand on the ground to steady her balance.
“Praxida Skleros; we meet at last. Bianca said she had a cunt of a sister. Didn’t mention anything about her being force sensitive though.” The Mistress was wheezing through her words, her lungs barely managing to keep oxygen flowing.
Beatrix dropped to one knee and coughed sharply as her healing abilities repaired the severe damage to her right side. As her right lung was sealed once again she wretched blood onto the ground and like something out of an old mummy movie, her right hand which had been nothing more than muscle and sinew began to weave new connections and new layers of skin to cover her muscular and skeletal systems. Christening her new hand, the Mistress wiped the blood from her mouth and met the gaze of the Skleros woman before her. Lifting herself to her feet through the screaming pain she felt in her legs the redheaded Sith Warrior broke open the cover on her wrist data-pad. Despite all the damage she had taken it was still functioning, albeit barely. Seventeen’s bio-signature was on the way back followed by about 600 others. She had to hold them for two minutes.
Two minutes. You got this. Just two minutes.
Reaching out with the force Trixie located the lightsaber Nova had given her and summoned it to her freshly minted and outstretched hand.
“That isn’t yours…” General Praxida said, recognizing whose lightsaber she was wielding.
“Come and take it then.” Trixie baited, dropping into her Juyo stance.
As the blue lightsaber ignited the redhead pushed off the ground with her thigh muscles and sprinted full tilt towards her mark. Jedi General Skleros scowled and drew her saber just in time to deflect a blow away from her person. She twirled the white bladed weapon to her right bringing it up across her person in response to Trixie entering close quarters. The redhead looked like shit and her armor was barely functional, but she was ready to do whatever it would take to hold her ground. Starting at the edge of her right shoulder blade and rotating around her right side, down to the right half of stomach, Trixie’s body was still partly covered in the shredded nanofiber suit that was standard issue for all 13th Soldiers. The parts of her bosom and bare skin that could be seen had been severely burned or shredded away and were in the process of being healed. You could see beneath the single layers of skin to the woman’s muscle and vascular systems as her regeneration worked to repair the damage.
“YOU DARE STAND AGAINST US ALONE!?” Skleros shouted as she stepped forward, swinging her saber as hard as she could to the left.
Pushing the inexperienced Jedi with the force, Trixie formed a fist with her right hand and unleashed a bolt of lightning directly into the woman’s chest. The sheer force of the impact sent her flying into the line of troops behind her. Rebel infantry picked up their fallen leader and assisted her back onto her feet. Trixie’s right arm was still bent at the elbow and held close to her body, lightning coursing along her forearm and up her bicep. A grin crept along the redhead’s features as she twirled her saber clockwise, pointing the blade downward in her stance. Without warning she began sprinting towards the front line, the rebel forces could do nothing but backpedal as Seventeen and the entirety of the reinforcements from the Sulaco emerged from the smoke behind her, sprinting in their direction.
It was something out of an ancient history textbook as both the rebel forces and the clone troopers from the 13th Legion clashed on the open street. Imperial walkers had rounded the corner and begun opening fire on the remaining enemy tank, drawing its fire away from the infantry following their de-facto general.
Trixie was locked in a heated duel with Jedi Skleros, surrounded by laser fire and dying soldiers. TIE Fighters and TIE Bombers roared overhead, laying waste to their designated targets and destroying anything not labeled as friendly. Fires sprung up the size of buildings that engulfed entire blocks in their plasma and gas fueled rage.
Feinting left, Trixie side stepped a wide slice from Praxida, skirting around the woman, her blue saber held at the ready. Rotating the blade counter clockwise the Sith Warrior brought it down onto a well-timed guard, causing both weapons to screech and chatter as the two beams of plasma fought for dominance. Jedi General Skleros was the first to break the clinch. Striking Beatrix in the stomach with a right knee, she feinted left and let the Mistress stumble forward, blood dripping from her mouth. Trixie’s hair had long since been knocked from it’s bun, her face being hidden by the blood red locks of hair hanging from her head. Praxida could only see the thick crimson liquid spilling from her enemies’ mouth as she spun around to bring her white blade through the back of the Sith Warrior’s neck.
Tilting her neck right and stepping back, Trixie planted a firm elbow to the blonde Jedi’s gut, quickly changing her grip on the blue saber so that the blade exited from the bottom of her fist. Rotating and rising to meet Praxida, the redhead seared across the Rebel Jedi’s midsection with her blade. Snap kicking the woman backwards, the Imperial Duelist watched as her prey fell to one knee holding her cauterized laceration.
“Damn you, Sith.” Praxida spat as she wrestled with her body to stand.
Every nerve ending screamed where Trixie had slammed a solid bolt of lightning into the woman’s chest. The Jedi eyed her opponent who looked as if she could barely stand herself. Trixie’s eyes were deadened. They held no emotion for the actions taking place. The redhead was in a state of complete autopilot, her years of combat training and military experience taking the reigns and leading her through. As each strike came Beatrix countered or blocked, striking back at her assailant until both were back in a clinch, fighting to break guard. Once again Jedi General Praxida won the struggle and sent a squared punch to the bridge of Trixie’s nose, flooding her face with blood from her broken nose.
“Kill her. Drain her life!” Palpatine’s words screeched through Zulenka’s mind as she staggered backward, saber still held out in front of her.
Letting the blood run down her chin she eyed the white-haired ARC Trooper before her. In one last ditch effort the two warriors lunged at each other. Trixie swapped her saber to her left hand last minute, driving it into Praxida’s ribcage, up and out through her shoulders. Taking hold of the Rebel General by the neck the Mistress let out a battle cry as red force energy crackling around her right hand which had latched onto Skleros’ neck. Lifting the woman off the ground despite the white lightsaber piercing Trixie’s torso she unleashed a force powered scream and dug her nails into the woman’s throat, ripping into her trachea. Ripping downward, Beatrix tore the Rebel Commander’s throat from her body in a shower of blood and viscera. Removing the blue saber from her prey as she fell, Trixie pivoted on the balls of her feet taking Praxida’s head from atop her shoulders with a horizontal slice.
As the battle raged on around her the Sith Mistress felt her world fade away, her head held low, shifting her hair over her face. With Skleros’ ignited lightsaber still piercing her torso the Mistress let out a dark side powered wail of rage and agony, before falling to her knees, not having the strength to remove the blade from her person.
“Get her to the landing zone. It’s two streets over. Charlie company has already landed with armor and vehicles. Dog and Fox are minutes behind them.” Beatrix commanded as she removed her helmet and placed it on the ground next to them, tying Nova to Seventeen’s back with the remaining climbing line she had in her personal kit.
“What about you Captain!?” The rave-haired cyborg asked, unsure of what his commanding officer was planning to do.
“I’m going to buy you time.”
Seventeen grabbed his commanders--no--his friends chest plate and pulled her close. “That’s suicide.”
The ground rumbled beneath them. Fires bloomed high over the nearby buildings as screams rang out from the retreating columns.
"They need help or they're dead," Trixie remarked as she watched fresh pillars of smoke billow up from where the remnants of Able and Bravo had staked out their withdrawal. "I can take care of myself."
Seventeen scowled as he stole a glance to where the columns had vanished just minutes earlier. He knew the woman's game, but that didn't make it less true. "I'll be back for you," he said before breaking into a sprint.
She managed a smile, watching them run off, before breaking through the wall she was standing behind and emptying out into the street. The rebels had ceased firing, unsure of what to make of the lone Imperial soldier walking casually toward their front line. The Sergeant Major wasn’t about to waste this opportunity to gain some distance. He continued down the street carrying Nova on his back, images of Aisha flashing through his mind, and through his periphery he saw an enemy tank line up and take a shot. As the cyborg reached the corner he saw the round explode in front of his Captain, enveloping her in thick flames and billowing black smoke. The ground buckling under the shockwave of the blast, littering the area with bits and pieces of concrete and asphalt.
“TRIXIE!” Nova shouted, groggy from the pain medication and loss of blood.
Seventeen backpedaled away, his eyes never leaving the cloud of smoke where his best friend used to be. It was when a single blue saber pierced the flames and a soot stained mech unit came walking out from within the crater in the street that the Sergeant Major felt sure that Trixie knew what she was doing.
“Tallgeese ExoSkeleton at 100%. Ready for combat.” An automated voice spoke into Trixie’s new ear piece.
Exploding forward with thrust powered movement the Mistress sliced through the middle of the medium tank that had just fired at her. It exploded taking out the rebel soldiers on either side. Diving into the squad of rebels the Mistress grabbed one of them by the leg and, wielding him like a blunt weapon, began knocking back his friends. Ripping the man in half and showering her new armor in blood left the Sith Warrior open for a tank shot from another vehicle stationed back where they had fled from. The main column of rebel soldiers had caught up. Deciding to ignore the risk of friendly fire the enemy had given the order to take her out. An incendiary round dug into Trixie’s right shoulder and exploded, removing the entire right half of her newly acquired armor, forcing the rest of dissipate in a cloud of Omnilium as the advance processor couldn’t repair the damage. While the squad that the red-head had been attacking was dead, she was now back in her normal --extremely tattered-- armor face down in a pool of her own blood that was slowly creeping along the ground.
From the direction of the shot, just like she had sensed, two more companies of rebel soldiers with their remaining medium tank arrived on scene marching in orderly fashion. Out in front was a cloaked woman who ordered the column to halt before stepping out into the middle of the destroyed intersection to inspect Trixie’s body. Rolling the redhead over, the blonde commander grinned as what was left of the Sith Mistress’ skin peeled away from her right side having adhered to the molten asphalt. Without warning Trixie planted two feet to the woman’s chest and pushed her back.
“You’re a hard woman to bring down, Zulenka.” The enemy commander said as she regained her balance. “What was your plan? To hold all of my men here while your soldiers retreated?”
Zulenka was now in extreme pain whilst lying on her back. That cheap shot had interrupted her bodies attempt to reconnect muscle tissue in her torso, causing fresh tearing and internal hemorrhaging. Using every ounce of her strength Zulenka pulled herself into a seated position, managing to get into a crouch, keeping one hand on the ground to steady her balance.
“Praxida Skleros; we meet at last. Bianca said she had a cunt of a sister. Didn’t mention anything about her being force sensitive though.” The Mistress was wheezing through her words, her lungs barely managing to keep oxygen flowing.
Beatrix dropped to one knee and coughed sharply as her healing abilities repaired the severe damage to her right side. As her right lung was sealed once again she wretched blood onto the ground and like something out of an old mummy movie, her right hand which had been nothing more than muscle and sinew began to weave new connections and new layers of skin to cover her muscular and skeletal systems. Christening her new hand, the Mistress wiped the blood from her mouth and met the gaze of the Skleros woman before her. Lifting herself to her feet through the screaming pain she felt in her legs the redheaded Sith Warrior broke open the cover on her wrist data-pad. Despite all the damage she had taken it was still functioning, albeit barely. Seventeen’s bio-signature was on the way back followed by about 600 others. She had to hold them for two minutes.
Two minutes. You got this. Just two minutes.
Reaching out with the force Trixie located the lightsaber Nova had given her and summoned it to her freshly minted and outstretched hand.
“That isn’t yours…” General Praxida said, recognizing whose lightsaber she was wielding.
“Come and take it then.” Trixie baited, dropping into her Juyo stance.
As the blue lightsaber ignited the redhead pushed off the ground with her thigh muscles and sprinted full tilt towards her mark. Jedi General Skleros scowled and drew her saber just in time to deflect a blow away from her person. She twirled the white bladed weapon to her right bringing it up across her person in response to Trixie entering close quarters. The redhead looked like shit and her armor was barely functional, but she was ready to do whatever it would take to hold her ground. Starting at the edge of her right shoulder blade and rotating around her right side, down to the right half of stomach, Trixie’s body was still partly covered in the shredded nanofiber suit that was standard issue for all 13th Soldiers. The parts of her bosom and bare skin that could be seen had been severely burned or shredded away and were in the process of being healed. You could see beneath the single layers of skin to the woman’s muscle and vascular systems as her regeneration worked to repair the damage.
“YOU DARE STAND AGAINST US ALONE!?” Skleros shouted as she stepped forward, swinging her saber as hard as she could to the left.
Pushing the inexperienced Jedi with the force, Trixie formed a fist with her right hand and unleashed a bolt of lightning directly into the woman’s chest. The sheer force of the impact sent her flying into the line of troops behind her. Rebel infantry picked up their fallen leader and assisted her back onto her feet. Trixie’s right arm was still bent at the elbow and held close to her body, lightning coursing along her forearm and up her bicep. A grin crept along the redhead’s features as she twirled her saber clockwise, pointing the blade downward in her stance. Without warning she began sprinting towards the front line, the rebel forces could do nothing but backpedal as Seventeen and the entirety of the reinforcements from the Sulaco emerged from the smoke behind her, sprinting in their direction.
It was something out of an ancient history textbook as both the rebel forces and the clone troopers from the 13th Legion clashed on the open street. Imperial walkers had rounded the corner and begun opening fire on the remaining enemy tank, drawing its fire away from the infantry following their de-facto general.
Trixie was locked in a heated duel with Jedi Skleros, surrounded by laser fire and dying soldiers. TIE Fighters and TIE Bombers roared overhead, laying waste to their designated targets and destroying anything not labeled as friendly. Fires sprung up the size of buildings that engulfed entire blocks in their plasma and gas fueled rage.
Feinting left, Trixie side stepped a wide slice from Praxida, skirting around the woman, her blue saber held at the ready. Rotating the blade counter clockwise the Sith Warrior brought it down onto a well-timed guard, causing both weapons to screech and chatter as the two beams of plasma fought for dominance. Jedi General Skleros was the first to break the clinch. Striking Beatrix in the stomach with a right knee, she feinted left and let the Mistress stumble forward, blood dripping from her mouth. Trixie’s hair had long since been knocked from it’s bun, her face being hidden by the blood red locks of hair hanging from her head. Praxida could only see the thick crimson liquid spilling from her enemies’ mouth as she spun around to bring her white blade through the back of the Sith Warrior’s neck.
Tilting her neck right and stepping back, Trixie planted a firm elbow to the blonde Jedi’s gut, quickly changing her grip on the blue saber so that the blade exited from the bottom of her fist. Rotating and rising to meet Praxida, the redhead seared across the Rebel Jedi’s midsection with her blade. Snap kicking the woman backwards, the Imperial Duelist watched as her prey fell to one knee holding her cauterized laceration.
“Damn you, Sith.” Praxida spat as she wrestled with her body to stand.
Every nerve ending screamed where Trixie had slammed a solid bolt of lightning into the woman’s chest. The Jedi eyed her opponent who looked as if she could barely stand herself. Trixie’s eyes were deadened. They held no emotion for the actions taking place. The redhead was in a state of complete autopilot, her years of combat training and military experience taking the reigns and leading her through. As each strike came Beatrix countered or blocked, striking back at her assailant until both were back in a clinch, fighting to break guard. Once again Jedi General Praxida won the struggle and sent a squared punch to the bridge of Trixie’s nose, flooding her face with blood from her broken nose.
“Kill her. Drain her life!” Palpatine’s words screeched through Zulenka’s mind as she staggered backward, saber still held out in front of her.
Letting the blood run down her chin she eyed the white-haired ARC Trooper before her. In one last ditch effort the two warriors lunged at each other. Trixie swapped her saber to her left hand last minute, driving it into Praxida’s ribcage, up and out through her shoulders. Taking hold of the Rebel General by the neck the Mistress let out a battle cry as red force energy crackling around her right hand which had latched onto Skleros’ neck. Lifting the woman off the ground despite the white lightsaber piercing Trixie’s torso she unleashed a force powered scream and dug her nails into the woman’s throat, ripping into her trachea. Ripping downward, Beatrix tore the Rebel Commander’s throat from her body in a shower of blood and viscera. Removing the blue saber from her prey as she fell, Trixie pivoted on the balls of her feet taking Praxida’s head from atop her shoulders with a horizontal slice.
As the battle raged on around her the Sith Mistress felt her world fade away, her head held low, shifting her hair over her face. With Skleros’ ignited lightsaber still piercing her torso the Mistress let out a dark side powered wail of rage and agony, before falling to her knees, not having the strength to remove the blade from her person.
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