08-11-2016, 03:03 AM
“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.
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.
![[Image: trixiesig2018.png]](http://www.cytokineindustries.com/chevereto/images/2018/06/12/trixiesig2018.png)