Consequences

[Android 17]

The fuck kind of society am I in now?

In the span of a few hours, Seventeen had been shunted around from one place to another.

At last, it seemed like he would have someplace where he’d be ‘stationed’ for at least the present time (however long that was supposed to be). The cyborg’s current locus—to steal an aptly fitting military term—was apparently his new sergeant’s personal base of operations. There was a little too much character to be found in the structure for it to be part of the official military apparatus of the Empire.

“These are your quarters.” Meredith complemented the announcement with a wave of her hand and a gentle bob of her head. Seventeen didn’t linger on her strange eyes or mildly unhuman demeanor. He flashed her a smile and walked into the apartment room. Once he heard the woman start to the walk away, he leaned back and casually slid the door shut, leaving him alone inside the quaint room. His pallid finger found the button that controlled the overhead lights, and with a nice hum, the rows of fluorescent track lighting embedded in the corners of the ceiling flashed to life.

“Not bad.”

Ignoring the majority of the room for the moment, the machine-hybrid made his way over to the couch. On the way, he quickly shed his boots and chucked them back from whence he came, where they came to a rest as a haphazard pile near the doorway. Just as he was about to hop the remainder of the way to his destination, Seventeen paused halfway through the motion. In his head, the image of his new ‘leader’ suddenly set off a handful of chimes.

Wait a second…

With a quick spin, the cyborg rushed to the door and slid it open. He leaned out into the hallway and shouted without much regard for anyone else who might be sleeping in one of the other apartments. “Hey, Meredith!”

There were a few moments of silence before the woman popped up around the corner. With a confused look on her face, she slowly made her way back to the pale young man.

“May I help you, Sergeant?”

“The sergeant… what was her name again?”

“Staff Sergeant Zulenka.”

Seventeen paused. “Her first name. She has one of those, right?”

Meredith’s lips twisted up for a brief moment, and the cyborg wondered if he’d accidentally violated some military norm. “Staff Sergeant Beatrix Zulenka.”

The raven-haired fighter’s eyes went wide. No fucking way. Can’t be. When he realized he was staring at the woman, Seventeen fixed his expression. “She married?”

At that, Meredith rolled her eyes and seemed to puff up a little. “Sergeant Seventeen, is that really an appropriate question to be asking?”

The machine-hybrid rolled his eyes right back at the building’s caretaker. “Lady, I’m the closest you can get to be married without having to fork over a ring. I have no creepy intentions.”

Meredith seemed to relax enough to offer the response. “She’s not.”

Seventeen started to chew his lower lip—that wasn’t the response he had hoped for at all. “No previous marriage?” The woman shook her head from side to side. “You know where she’s from? Is it some demon world?”

“You should sleep,” Meredith laughed. “She’s from somewhere in the Outer Rim.”

“Oh,” the cyborg relented. “Thanks, Meredith. I’ll let you go dust or whatever it is you do around here.”

“Thanks,” the woman shot back as she left.

Once he was back inside his apartment, Seventeen frowned as he trudged his way over to the couch. What were the fucking odds that an attractive redhead with the name Beatrix-fucking-Zulenka wouldn’t be the same damn Beatrix Zulenka from his own realm? Was there some mirror version of him out in another universe? Was there some version of him who rode horses and shot magic missiles from his hands as he sought to bring outlaw justice to some fanciful hinterland.

“I can’t even…”

The cyborg reached over for the remote and turned on the television. After it warmed up, he was greeted by a commercial. A commercial with a well-coifed man in a purple suit. A very familiar man with a sly little grin…

“Hi, I’m Karl Jak, and I want to talk to you about Dante’s Abyss. It’s co—”

The television clicked off a moment before the remote landed on the ground a few feet away.

“FUCK. NO.” Seventeen barked as he dropped his head down to the couch. “I can’t handle all of this nonsense in one day.”

[Trixie]

Nova crossed her arms at the sight of Trixie hobbling towards the drug dispensary on the other end of the hall. Her stitches had torn and she was trailing droplets of blood along the linoleum floor. 
 
Nova herself still had bandages covering her body including the one over her left eye, but she was well enough to pursue the redhead. 
 
“How dare you…” She said, crossing in front of the Sith’s path. 


God dammit
 
Once Nova set her only good eye on Trixie’s face she saw the true horror that was Diablo’s ultimatum. Thin black lines, following the path of her veins, spider webbed across her face and exposed skin. Her flesh was pale and blackened. The mistress was clutching her IV stand using it as a method of getting herself down the hall. 
 
“Now...really isn’t the time, Nova.” Blood dripped from the corners of Trixie’s mouth as she spoke. 
 
“Why are you even out of bed!?” The blond took her love interests’ arm and wrapped it around her own neck, helping the Sith towards her destination. 
 
“Just get me to the trauma cabinet.” 
 
It took some time, but the pair finally made their way into the drug dispensary. Trixie ordered a base commander override and deactivated the droid in charge as she fumbled through the vials of pain medication. Taking an unopened syringe, Trixie peeled the packaging and exposed the tempered steel. Plunging the metal into a clear liquid the redhead filled the syringe to the brim. 
 
“Trixie...that dose is enough to bring down a herd of rancors.” Nova warned, but before she could make for the needle it was already plunged into Zulenka’s thigh.
 
Beatrix pushed the plunger and felt the pain medication wash over her body, combining with her own regeneration to fight the corruption Diablo had set upon her body until her deed was done. The mistress tossed the spent sharps cartridge to the floor and let out of a cry of agony as her force powers unleashed themselves. Nova was thrown from her feet and into the hall as the structure around them began to buckle and crumple under the intense kinetic energy. Trixie’s hair began to lengthen, her body becoming perkier, the curves various curves that she was gifted with becoming more refined. Markings slowly materialized across the very top of her cleavage.

[Trixie]

Staff Sergeant Beatrix Zulenka was many things, but someone who backed down from a challenge was not one of them. No matter the level of stress or the amount of misfortune that life threw her way she found a way around it through the help of her comrades. Her time in the Underverse was no different. Sia Morelli had reminded the redheaded soldier of her true potential again. Trixie thought back to those who had given everything to keep her going. 

Masters, Fiona, Sia, Argento, and most importantly Luna. 

Luna’s memory core had been downloaded into Meredith von Markham, but they hadn’t been able to boot her personality matrix. Veronica insisted on programming an entirely new AI to hold onto the information as sort of a librarian. This is where the new caretaker of the base came into play. Bardan Jaxx was going to pay, but first they needed to banish a prisoner housed on Tier 3 to appease Diablo. Though Trixie wasn’t about to divulge that information to anyone. Whatever path she had been thrust into the day Falkner banished her was now the one she was forced to walk. 

In an attempt to stir some confidence Diablo had granted the tricenarian her youthful appearance and body. The markings from the Nightsister magick that had adorned Trixie’s lithe early twenties body once again rested on her skin. She felt as spry as she did back then, but with all of the experience her decades of service had granted. Her regeneration had completely restored her body to healthy condition and the Mistress was busy readying herself for a mission with her new Sergeant. While Nova and Aisha were tended to by the various medical droids that were employed in the base, Beatrix and Seventeen were to banish someone located inside the Imperial prison on Tier 4 aptly named Cuatro Correctional Facility or CCF. 

Trixie admired herself in the mirror of her personal bathroom as the steam from her shower gently hugged her naked body. She wrapped her fingers around a comb, her eyes darting to each scar that littered her otherwise silky skin. Pulling the plastic device through her new length of hair the Mistress fixed her frazzled appearance and continued about her usual routine of applying makeup and caring for her feminine appearance. Trixie exited the bathroom and took her dogs tags from the bed, pulling them over her head. The steel felt cold between her bosom. Taking a black and white combat bra from a drawer built into the end of her bed she firmly pulled it over her chest and adjusted it for comfort. Leaning down she grabbed a pair of fatigue trousers and sat on her bed to put them on. 

Once dressed, Trixie grabbed a hair tie from the cubby next to her bedside and headed out of the door. The Officers’ Apartments were a giant section of the base that housed self-contained penthouse suites for whoever Beatrix deemed worthy to have their own home-esque place to live. Everyone else received a small, but functional apartment with basic amenities and access to a cafeteria/grocery shop. 

It was late into the witching hour when Trixie knocked on Seventeen’s door. Taking her hair tie she stretched it over one hand and looped her hair through it making a bun that sat just behind her head leaving a few rogue strands of hair in her face.

“Sarge?” The black haired android asked, rubbing his eyes. 

“Morning, Sergeant. I've got a side mission and I need your help. Time to get you suited up like an official soldier.” Trixie said, eyeing her new second in command up and down. 

She led him down to the armory where a row of armor stands were laid out against the back wall. Trixie walked the android over to a blue set of armor that held the insignia rank for Sergeant on it’s shoulders. The redheaded Sith Warrior left him in front of it for a second and returned with a standard issue weapon. 

“This is your weapon and armor. Communication is built into the helmet as well as a basic HUD. I’ll show up as green and enemy combatants will be red. It’s your basic combat rig.” She said, handing him a piece of paper with a code on it. 

“That’s the passcode to the lock. When you enter it the first time it will ask to scan your thumb at which point it will record it and you’ll be able to use it to access the locker on the fly. Otherwise you need to use the passcode written there. Don’t forget it. The amount of paperwork required to get a new one is ridiculous.” 

Seventeen nodded and began punching the numbers into the keypad. 

“So I heard you thought I was someone else.” She said whilst strapping on the bottom section of her armor. 

“You look like the wife of someone I used to know. You even share the same name.” 

“To answer your initial question to Meredith, Seventeen. The answer is yes.” Trixie was indifferent. 

Seventeen stopped as he was securing the arm plates to his forearms. The mistress looked him straight in the eyes, her pink irises humming with the same energy. 

“The bottom line you need to know is yes. That is literally all I can tell you, because that is all I know at this point.” 

Trixie slid her helmet over her face and turned to face her Sergeant as the HUD booted up and her vision was restored. Tapping a few buttons on her wrist the armor sealed itself and pressurized. Opening a locker Trixie took out her utility belt and wrapped it around her waist, clicking it in place. Positioning her weapons in their rightful places the last piece to the puzzle was her rifle. The redhead took a moment to examine the weapon as it hung on the wall next to her locker. It was the original rifle she had started with when she had met Nova. Permanent scorch marks and scoring on the toughened durasteel littered the surface of the faded surface. Trixie decided that she wanted to be old fashioned, choosing to repair the rifle with summoned parts rather than just replace the whole thing. For looking like it did, it was a well maintained heavy blaster rifle. Removing the weapon from the wall she took a magazine from the bandolier on her waist and connected it. 

Looking toward Seventeen she received a thumbs up from her second in-command and nodded. The pair of soldiers made their way to the hangar bay where the prepped MAAT Transport was waiting. Stepping up into the open holding bay, Beatrix spun around and pulled her Sergeant into the machine with her. 

“Take us out, HK.” She said to the pilot droid. 

The side door slide shut with a rigid thud followed by a loud hiss as the pressure in the passenger bay was equalized and filling with breathable air. The droid piloting the craft slid the thrust lever forward and the repulsor engines ignited, propelling the craft from the hangar level of Trixie’s base. With a quick spiral and a short burst from the aft thrusters the craft was rocketed downward toward Tier 4 and the target prison.

[Android 17]

Tier Four was, in a manner of words, the wet dream of a science fiction gangster.

The buildings were a little more cramped. The roads were a little more disheveled, and the store fronts a little sadder and downtrodden.

Yet it was the neon that really sold Seventeen on the place.

As they exited the landing craft, the cybernetic warrior paused to adjust the awkwardly formfitting armor he’d received from his senior sergeant. Unlike the shiny white plastic armor of the Stormtroopers, Trixie’s outfit wore something closer to a light tan, and to make matters more pleasant, it had lovely blue accent stripes. Unfortunately, it didn’t fit quite as evenly or cleanly as the man would have hoped for a future-tech military. Was he supposed to be naked under this armor?

Questions for another time.

Adjusting the forearm plates, Seventeen reached behind his back for his assault rifle. When she caught his motion, Trixie shook her head. “We’ll go in cold.” She spoke softly as their ride idled and came to rest on the ground behind them. Up ahead, he could spot the entrance to the prison, and in a twist from normal Coruscant flair, it was clearly a prison. There was a lovely mesh gate, sentry guns, and a pair of giant steel doors. “This should be routine. In and out. No need to draw any extra attention from the locals.”

“Not fans of your kind?” Seventeen asked as he glanced around. He could spot a few people glimpsing in on the scene from behind window curtains or down alleys.

“Fans of our kind,” Trixie corrected, although only an idiot wouldn’t be able to tell she experienced no joy in that statement. Even concealed behind the visor of her helmet, Seventeen could hear the undertones in her voice that hinted at something buried below the surface. Was Trixie a malcontent? Her cryptic remarks and her general attitude only augmented the aura of mystery around the woman.

And why the fuck does she look younger than she did when I met her? Don’t tell me that’s all makeup, bro.

“Ten-four,” Seventeen muttered beneath his breath as he followed the woman up to the fence.

Leaning toward a small callback, Trixie depressed the switch and spoke clearly to whoever worked the comm at the facility. “Staff Sergeant Beatrix Zulenka with the 13th Legion, ISF. They should have radioed ahead to notify you of my arrival.”

There were a few moments of static before a voice replied. “Who is that with you?”

Trixie’s features twisted up into a scowl behind her helmet as she thumbed the button. “That’s Sergeant Seventeen… 13th Legion, ISF. He was onboarded within the last thirty-six hours, but they said all his papers would be in order.”

Silence. “One second, Ma’am. We’ll need to call up to your HQ.”

The Staff Sergeant actually growled upon hearing that, and this time she nearly punched through the call button. “I’m running a squad that operates on fumes. My fucking bullets are recycled. My damned ship needed a fresh paint job three weeks back. Don’t fucking tell me to wait out in this fucking shithole. Opening the door before I tear it apart.”

Another linger pause filled with static.

Beep!

The gate in front of the pair of soldiers whirred and groaned as it rolled open for them. Trixie, smiling and feeling just the slightest bit of catharsis, motioned for her sergeant to follow her as they traversed the small ‘front yard’ on their way to the front door.

The twosome made it almost to the entrance when their transport ship was blown into forty-seven sizzling chunks by an improvised plasma rocket. Thrown to their faces by the shockwave, Trixie and Seventeen wrapped their arms over their heads as the quartet of sentry guns whirred to life and started to spew ionized, armor-piercing bullets at a rate of eighty rounds per minute.

“Keep your head low!” This time, Trixie’s voice exited from a speaker on the inside of Seventeen’s own helmet.

There was a whoosh of hot air that passed over Seventeen’s head and claimed the life of one of the guns, splashing the pair with fragments of shrapnel. Fortunately for them both, the heat had softened the metal, which clung to their armor rather than cut through. There would be scorch marks, but that was better than the alternative.

“Come on!” A voice screamed from the outside world as the pair lifted their heads to see that one of the giant metal doors had been swung open for them. A helmetless stormtrooper waved for them to get up off their asses and into the heavily fortified facility. “I can’t wait all fucking day, you know!”

“Go!” Trixie barked as she popped up off the ground just high enough to get her legs under her lithe body and spring forward into the prison. A little less graceful than his partner-slash-superior, Seventeen scraped his knee and one of his palms on some metal fragments before throwing himself over the threshold of the prison. The door slammed shut just as a second sentry gun was blown apart by artillery.

“Thank you,” Trixie had pulled her helmet off, but when she turned to thank the man, she realized that he was already gone from this world. Over a dozen bullets had left a diagonal trail of death across the man’s midsection. The eyes were empty, so he had been spared the agony by a few bullets crashing through his heart.

“Son of a bitch,” Trixie muttered as she slipped the helmet back over her head and tried to access the comm wavelength for the prison. Her sidearm was primed by the time she found the correct frequency. “Hello, is anyone there? Over.”

Seventeen, who had enough experience with HUDs from his lifetime of having a computer in his heart, joined her and waited for the panicked response that neither of them wanted to here.

“Prison has been compromised. Repeat. Prison has been compromised. Integrity has been lost in at least five different sectors.”

Trixie turned to her sergeant. “That means the outer walls have been breached in almost half a dozen different spots.” The woman glanced around the area and gestured Seventeen to follow her into a nearby guard room. She tried to speak to the man as she moved. “I’m with the 13th,” she barked as both of them heard gunshots and energy blasts on the other side of the comm. “Can you provide any other details? Are the prisoners secure?”

“Negative. Prisoners are being freed across the facility. The armor has fallen. Get the fuck out of her if you can. They will have to send in the heavies… it’s useless. I’m really scared. This was just supposed to be a desk job, you know?”

Trixie didn’t speak into the comm. “Send the heavies to Tier 4? Likely fucking story. They’ll just blame this on someone and sweep it under the rug.” She forced open the door and slipped into the guard checkpoint. “Can you give me more details? Where are they coming from?

“I-I-I don’t know… I’m just so scared. They didn’t prepare us for this in boot camp. My friends are dead. I just had breakfast with Johnny yesterday, and I watched a prisoner kill him with a metal bar. I j-j-just can’t handle this.”

Seventeen saw Trixie’s form actually twitch, so he beat her to the punch. “Hey, Pal, just relax, okay? My name is Seventeen, and that was Trix. You know, like the cereal?” There was silence, but that was better than the man having a panic attack. “We’re going to come and lend a hand, but we need you to calm down and help us, all right? You never told us your name?”

“Private Steven Jenson, Sir. I d-d-don’t know how I can help.”

Trixie, understanding the intention of the cyborg’s calm demeanor, took over. “Private Jenson, can you transfer schematics for this facility to me? We need to know what’s going on if we’re going to help out you and anyone else stuck in this hellhole.”

“Schematics?”

“And records,” Trixie asked. “Prison rosters. Cell assignments. Anything and everything.” It was then that Seventeen remembered they had their own reason for being in this place. They needed to make sure one of the criminals never saw the light of day again.

“Okay, I can forward you the encryption information, but you’ll need to find a terminal.”

Trixie, who was standing right next to a terminal, smiled behind her helmet. “Ready when you are, Private Jenson.”

[Trixie]

The data came streaming over the HUD of her helmet. Sliding the data verse device from its pouch on her hip, Trixie pulled it open and began the process of dumping the raw data onto it. Soon the information from the RAM of her helmet display was flowing onto the screen of the portable data pad. However, before the soldier could respond to Jenson there were sounds of screaming and what sounded like his death.

“Boring conversation anyway.”

“Sarge?” Seventeen asked, watching the door that led into the rest of the prison.

He turned his head just as blaster fire shot past him and into the office, peppering the back wall.

“I’ve about had it…”

Trixie sheathed her data pad in its carrying pouch and opened the communicator located on her hand.  Linking it to her helmet she dialed dispatch.

“Staff Sergeant Zulenka requesting purge on Cuatro Prison. Situation beyond control.”

After a moment, a woman responded. “Clear to engage, Sergeant. Support inbound from the Fourth Ranger Battalion.”

Without missing a beat Trixie raised her rifle and kicked down the door. Time came to crawl as she squeezed the trigger and began dropping target after target. The inmates had begun stripping the guards for equipment and armor, however because of the advanced HUD in their helmets Seventeen and Trixie could see through the ruse. The mistress ducked around a corner as a pair of inmates opened fire. The rounds broke off chunks of concrete and showered her with dust. Seventeen took to the other corridor and was laying down his own suppressing fire. The redhead tossed an empty clip to the ground and jammed another one into her rifle. Rotating clockwise she entered the main hall again, exiting her cover, and fired upon the advancing prisoners. A blaster bolt caught her shoulder, but she kept moving forward.

Finally, the duo reached the checkpoint that led into the yard. A massive free for all covered the entire expanse of the open courtyard. Slinging her rifle across her back Trixie grabbed the data pad on her hip and opened it up, moving to a wall for cover.

“Fuck. It looks like the only way to our target is through the yard.”

Seventeen sighed as he knocked an empty cartridge from his rifle and slid a new one in. The redheaded Sith carefully eyed the plans before her and nodded. Rotating her slung rifle to her back she tightened the strap so it wouldn’t move. Removing her cloak, the mistress dropped it to the floor and left the safety of her cover. Using both hands she drew upon the force and ripped both doors from their hinges. Walking out into the battle before her she tossed them in separate directions, several inmates being brutally vivisected as the heavy metal doors were launched like projectiles. Almost immediately two thick bolts of lightning shot across the cluster of bodies, bouncing from target to target in a crooked line. After the deafening claps of thunder subsided those who had been hit were left with gaping holes in their torso where the pure beams of lightning had burned through them.

As many as ten bodies dropped almost immediately forcing the room to turn their attention to Staff Sergeant Zulenka and her squad mate.  Taking firm hold of her lightsaber Trixie ignited the weapon, extending the red blade for all to see. Grabbing the nearest inmate with force she brought him in close before severing his legs from his torso. Pushing his mutilated body back Zulenka charged forward just as the room ignited with the roar of hundreds of convicted men and women shouting in rage, some out of fear. Seventeen dare not lag. He kept right behind his new leader, covered her with his rifle from behind as she carved into each person that got in her way. Drawing her pistol in one hand with her saber in the other, Trixie fought her way through the prison population. That is, until she reached one maximum security criminal who could handle himself.

 It wasn’t the fact that his commanding officer had been thrown from her feet that had shocked Seventeen. It was that someone could stop the wave of destruction she had been causing. As rolled onto all fours, Seventeen began to see the extent of the damage she had taken from the prison turbo laser. Her chest armor was completely scorched, her helmet was split and throwing sparks, and the armor on her left arm was completely gone, leaving the exposed burned flesh to meet the warm summer air.

Beatrix held up a hand for Seventeen to hold his position. Was she mad? The Sith Warrior climbed to her feet, removing her helmet from atop her head. As the turbo laser fired again, but this time she was ready. She pushed her left hand forward and the bolt of green energy stopped just inches away from her palm. Tossing the energy like a used napkin Trixie extended her opposite arm, grabbing hold the cannon battery with the Force. Squeezing her fist shut she collapsed the steel in on itself in a shower of sparks and liquid flame.

“To think I once called you friend.” A voice said from the roof, as the inmates gathered in a circle around Seventeen and Trixie.

“Bardan Jaxx.”

Mistress Zulenka brushed hair out of her bloodied face, her angry features focused on the man wearing prisoner fatigues who was now standing at the very edge of the circle. He walked forward, an air of confidence in his posture.

“It’s about damn time!” Jaxx said with a booming voice, as he threw his arms up and turned to his new allies, as if he were some announcer in an arena.

“You’re going to pay for killing Luna!”

“The bitch knew what she was getting into.” The former Ranger said with dismissive tone.

“You used her trust.” Trixie shot back through grinding teeth.

“She used me! They hacked Imperial Intelligence! Used me as their guinea pig! I lost everything!”

Trixie cracked a wicked smile. “That’s the thing about Luna. She had everything needed to clear your name, but you cut ties and killed her before she could help you.”

“Lies. All lies!” Bardan shouted, closing in for a fight.

Trixie sheathed her saber in one fluid motion, ducking under a punch. Taking hold of his arm and torso the Sith Warrior threw him to the ground, crushing one of his legs under the weight of her boot. Jaxx cried out in pain, but it was quickly muffled as Trixie’s handle clasped over his mouth. Black electricity began coating her arm as his features began to shrivel and wither away, the direct result of his life essence being drained.

“Checkmate, asshole.”

Bardan Jaxx had paid for his crimes.

[Android 17]

Welp. Seventeen thought as Trixie ducked the errant swing, toppled her opponent, and proceeded to electrocute/vampire-eat him. Don’t fuck with this lady, that’s for sure.

As the corpse wilted like a flower under the desert sun, the remaining inmates dropped down and rushed the pair of Imperial soldiers. Pivoting, Seventeen shouldered the fancy assault rifle and force-fed a few bolts into the gut and face of three bellowing prisoners. They seemed like pretty bad dudes, so he doubted anyone but their mommas were going to shed tears if word of their death every spread beyond these ransacked prison walls.

Two of the inmates got close enough that they managed to get their hands on the cybernetic warrior. With the assault rifle negated, Seventeen resorted to good ole fashioned fisticuffs. A swift chop to the next staggered his first assailant, and with that hand free, he turned and wrapped it around the neck of the woman trying to claw into his neck. “Take it from me,” he said as he squeezed his grip. “This life of crime was never going to work out, dahling.” A beat later, Seventeen snapped the woman’s neck and dropped her to the floor.

Nearby, Trixie had skewered two people with her lightsaber and left them to suffer and die on the floor of the prison. Craning her neck to see her companion, she acknowledged his ‘dirty work’ with a nod of her head before dipping to recover her helmet. The courtyard was clear.

“This is Staff Sergeant Zulenka. The courtyard at Cuatro is secure. Repeat, courtyard secure.”

Seventeen had secured his helmet just in time to hear the response on the other end: “We hear you, Staff Sergeant. We will be inbound in fifteen minutes.”

The machine-hybrid switch the squad line right after the transmission ended. “Don’t we have a target? He’ll be long gone if we wait here for the guys in the sky.”

Trixie nodded her head as she slipped her lightsaber back onto her belt and checked the condition of her rifle. “On my six.” She barked as she started toward the north end of the courtyard. “Section 6 should be nearby.”

With his noncom in the lead, Seventeen trailed her through the steel door and down a network of corridors. Following the path given to them by the dead worker, they threw themselves through a pair of steel doors just in time to find themselves in a cafeteria. Above their heads, the artificial lights of Coruscant shined through, but the whirr of machinery up there in the open air was certainly not the stormtroopers making an early appearance.

Ten yards away, a pair of individuals in salvaged stormtrooper armor were hooking some convicts into what appeared to be a safety harness. Seventeen and Trixie watched as the first one was pulled up too safety, but before the other one could start his ascent to freedom, they put half a dozen holes through his chest.

“Freeze, assholes!” Seventeen barked as the group of eight convicts turned to confront the twosome.

“Stand-down!” Trixie spoke, her voice reflecting someone with a little more of the proper social conditioning of an Imperial agent. “Surrender yourselves and you may be able to return to your cells where you belong.”

At the front of the crowd, a young woman in a patchwork suit of armor stolen from the guards stepped forth. She extended both of her hands, and it was then that Seventeen saw the little metal tubes that bore a striking resemblance to Tri—

Bzzt!

The pair of lightsabers crackled to life.

“Kill the Empire’s attack dogs!” The leader of the convicts screamed.

“That’s our target, ain’t it?” Seventeen whispered over the comm.

“I wasn’t expecting a jedi,” Trixie muttered as she shouldered her gun and opened fire on their attackers.

[Trixie]

It wasn’t long before Trixie was aware that her rifle wasn’t going to be the tool for the job. Seventeen was covering his commander as she continuously drained energy clip after energy clip into their target, but it was to no avail. Whoever she was, she was exceptionally skilled at lightsaber defense. Trixie halted her forward movement just as the last burst of laser fire escaped the barrel of her rifle. The smoking gun, as it were, was red hot from being continuously fired. The number of convicts had dwindled from the visual scope of her HUD, but that cursed Jedi who stood before the Sith mistress remained.

“Tch.”

Trixie removed the empty cartridge from the bottom of her rifle and tossed it onto the ground. Lifting the barrel of the rifle to the ceiling she rested the weapon in her right arm while simultaneously disengaging the lock around her helmet. Sliding her trooper headgear off, Trixie let her red hair fall from its bun onto her breastplate. Narrowing her pink eyes, she took stock of the Jedi who now stood mere feet away.

“Jedi Master Aurora Morvant. The Empire has had you on its most wanted list for years.” Trixie smirked.

“Hiding in plain sight? Very clever.”

The fighting ceased as Morvant raised one of her sabers. Seventeen withdrew to his noncom and stood at her six, ready to fire.

“It’s been a long time since there’s been any Sith dogs on Coruscant. At least one worth noting of. You may think yourself a soldier, but you’re Sith. You will always be Sith, and no matter how hard you try to change that fact it will always remain true.” The Jedi tightened her grip on the sabers she was wielding, her knuckles turning white.

“Pretty hateful talk…for a Jedi.” Trixie’s words were laced with condescension.

Morvant wasted no time making the first move, she had jumped forward and was upon Trixie within seconds.

Perfect.

Mistress Zulenka, in one fluid motion, leaned forward and kicked Seventeen back to safety whilst dropping her helmet and rifle to the floor. Bringing up both hands she caught each saber inside a Close Quarters Shield as they came in to take her head. Pushing outward Trixie stepped forward and planted a firm snap kick to the woman’s’ chest. Stumbling backward the Jedi Master watched as Trixie cracked her neck and drew her saber, igniting the red blade which outshined both of her blue ones combined.

“You picked the wrong person to call a dog, Jedi.”

Trixie spun around on the balls of her feet, the red blade twirling in a solid block of color along with her flowing red hair. Rotating the saber counter-clock-wise around her side she brought the blade down upon two crossed blue beams of energy. Jedi Master Morvant dropped to one knee as the strength of the Sith Warrior came to bear. Beatrix could not see Aurora’s face through her helmet, but her features had adopted a look of concern. She had been a High Council Member and here she was, being bested by some Sith dog within a matter of moments.

A grin snuck its way onto Trixie’s face as she twisted her blade, progressing ever downward towards her mark. Switching her footing the Agent of Diablo kicked her heel into the floor, telekinetically pushing the Jedi Master onto her back. Without hesitation Master Morvant rolled back over her head and was on her feet again, sabers ignited and crossed in front of her. With a flick of her wrist the redheaded mistress deactivated her lightsaber, which made Seventeen change his focus back to his noncom. With quick brush of her hand, Zulenka pushed hair out of her eyes and turned around, making her way back to her helmet.

Morvant took this opportunity to strike. She pushed off the ground, with the low roar of force energy, and raised both lightsabers above her head. Android 17 shifted his aim to cover her, but the look in her eyes made him stand down. With a firm kick Trixie lifted the helmet into the air whilst dropping forward. As Jedi Master Aurora came into range the mistress recoiled her legs and planted both onto the woman’s chest armor for a powerful donkey kick. As Morvant collided into the opposite wall Zulenka rolled onto her back and sat up to catch her helmet. Sliding it over her head the systems inside the piece of hardware booted up and restored her visual senses. Almost immediately the heads-up display locked onto her target and began pulling up known warrants and information on a Jedi Master by the name of Aurora Morvant.

Wanted for collusion with known rebel agents. Murder of Imperial Officials. Crimes against Sith Culture.

Aurora pulled herself from the wall where she had been thrown. Most of her crew had been killed and the 13th Legion had arrived in full force. She could escape, but only if she killed this Sith dog and her puppet.

“Staff Sergeant, this is Lieutenant Skleros of the 13th. My men are beginning their assault.”

Trixie ignored the radio chatter and switched to the private channel between her and Seventeen. Reaching down to her utility belt she unclasped the buckle and dropped it to the floor. As she turned around to face the Jedi before her a new weapon slid down from her wrist and into her hand. The hilt of a weapon she hadn’t used in years.

The Darksaber ignited.

It’s shrill unique sound clashing around the room. Before Morvant could react, the redhead was upon her. Sweeping the Jedi’s feet out from under her, Trixie brought the blade down vertically upon the woman’s chest. Before the blade could make contact Master Morvant had thrown Zulenka off and was recovering her fallen weapons. Reigniting both sabers the follower of the Light side furrowed her brow behind the helmet she was wearing. This fight was taking too long. Pushing off the wall behind her Aurora met Trixie head on. The two clashed for what seemed like ages. Seventeen could only pick off stragglers as they sought to interrupt the fight and answer the Lieutenant. As the two warriors clashed, Zulenka finally found an opening as her Jedi opponent began to tire. Thrusting her saber into the woman’s guard she rotated the blade and moved to her right, pulling the blade with her. Morvant dropped to her knees in agony as her severed right arm fell to the floor. With another quick twirl of the Darksaber Trixie had severed the left hand of her opponent as well.

The stunned, incapacitated Jedi knelt there watching the Sith dog who had just dealt the winning blow stroll over to her belt and remove a small, hellish colored disc. Thumbing the small device Zulenka made her way back over to her wounded foe and ripped the stolen helmet from her head. Grabbing a fistful of the woman’s hair she tilted her head back and looked her in the eyes.

“Give the Lord of Terror my regards.”

In an act of cruelty Trixie jammed the banishing circle down her opponents’ throat and activated it before sending a telekinetic blast to her chest, forcing Jedi Master Morvant to collide into the wall behind her. As the circle activated the fallen warrior clawed at her throat, obviously choking, as beams of red and black energy poured from her mouth and eyes. As the portal to the Underverse opened Trixie could feel nothing but a deep sense of comfort that it wasn’t her being sent this time. She watched as the portal ripped apart the Jedi Master bit by bit, consuming her physical form until it was gone and the gateway to Diablo’s realm was sealed once again.

You have your target, master.