V Retribution V: Somewhere Over the Rainbow

[Android XVII]

The dragon was gone—its body crumbled and swallowed in the heart of the dying galaxy. He’d seen the light fade from the creature’s eyes and knew that it was no more, but despite his satisfaction, he knew that it would soon be his turn to meet his end. The fight had taken everything from him. Every fleeting grasp of strength had left his scrawny, battered body, and as he watched, the darkness drew him closer.

He’d slain the creature.

He’d won the day…

A faint smile spread across his face as the torn hole in reality reached out for him. Dying was different, even when you’re already dead in the first place, but what waited for him now was something altogether different. Was he just going to cease to exist? Just blink out of existence?

Should he have been scared as he slipped into oblivion?

The smile lingered on his battered visage as the universe he’d known faded into the distance.

He fell.

Memories swirled around him in a blur as the darkness consumed him. Friends, rivals, strangers… they all came and went in an instant as the world crumbled into pieces.

At the bottom of the darkness, there was a sudden flash of light.

By the time he could move his hands again, he felt the rush of water against his pallid countenance. Cold, damn water.

Alive?

Seventeen let out a groan as he lifted his head up out of the water. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the light, but once they did, he realized that he was resting in shallow water near a riverbank. The going was rough, but he managed to stumble up to his feet and wade out onto the grass. Once there, he promptly dropped back down to his knees and started to glance at the nearby terrain.

Tall mountains in the distance, with little bits of white at their peaks. Looked normal.

In another direction, he spotted a bunch of rolling hills dotted with the occasional patch of shrubs or tall tree. Again, that looked normal.

The river he had escaped wounded a couple of times before vanishing into a dense forest. The trees were green, and the leaves weren’t anything extraterrestrial in nature. It looked a lot like Earth, but the logic of that made zero sense.

Prior to this, he’d been in the Western Quadrant. He couldn’t recall the name, but the galaxy the dragon and he had trashed had been devoid of sentient life.

Then how the hell did we wind up in a river on pseudo-Earth?

“Are you okay?” A voice called out, prompting the damp man to twitch as he craned his neck. He was being approached by a man covered in full plate and riding…

An ostrich? A big… yellow ostrich? Ostriches were native to his planet, even if he’d never seen one that looked as if it had been drawn with a crayon. And this masculine-sounding man had spoken a language he understood. An attempt to sense the man’s ki or scan him seemed to accomplish nothing but make the cyborg look as if he was constipated.

“I repeat,” the figure decreed as he drew up within a few yards of the kneeling, water-drenched warrior. “Are you okay, young man? Did you fall into the river?”

Speak, dingus.

“Yes,” Seventeen muttered as he grimaced and stood up off the wet grass.

“She can be treacherous during the summertime, you know.” The man, whose attire evoked images of the distant past, muttered as he pushed up the visor of his helmet. “Are you injured? I see no blood on your clothing.”

Seventeen shook his head. “No injuries, but I think I may have struck my head. Can you tell me where we are, my good sir?”

“We are in Laconia.”

“…what planet is that?”

The knight tilted his head before shaking it slowly. “Your internal injuries must be grandiose in scale. We’re on Erde Nona. This region is called Laconia, and it is known for its exports of agricultural products and assholes.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Seventeen mumbled as he tried to feign comprehending what could easily be a bunch of gibberish. “I was out here to… fish, and I fell into the river and it dragged me for a good, long while. Not sure where I’m from, though.”

“That is a tragic tale, young man,” the knight decreed. “I can offer you transit to the nearest settlement, if you desire. It may not cure your mental impediments, but you may be able to find solace in the warm embrace of civilization.”

“Most definitely,” Seventeen answered with a smile as the knight casually removed his helmet and stored it in his saddlebags. Beneath the armor was a man roughly a decade older than the cyborg appeared to be.

“My name is Ser Aurum,” the knight declared as he offered a gauntleted hand to his acquaintance. “Pray tell, who are you?”

Once Seventeen was secure on the saddle, he replied. “I’m Seventeen.”

“Seventeenth what?” Ser Aurum inquired as he guided his bird away from the river. “That is an impressive lineage… certainly, you will find kinsmen on our world.”

The waterlogged cyborg bit his lip. He knew a lot of the local areas of space, and there was nowhere called ‘Erde Nona’, which placed him well outside his little neighborhood of the galaxy.

Unless I’m dead? Seventeen scowled as he glimpsed up at the sky. There were clouds hanging overhead, but he’d have to see if he could triangulate himself once it was nighttime. Could be another reality. That happened to Supes once or twice, didn’t it?

“Where’d you get the ostrich?” The cyborg inquired, which prompted the bird to crane its neck around and look at him with what could only be described as a scathing glare. Strangely, the creature never lost a step to its gait.

“Surely you didn’t hit your head hard enough that you’ve forgotten what a chocobo looks like,” the armored man chuckled. “This one is called Maximus. He is my faithful companion.”

Seventeen nodded even though he struggled to follow what was unfurling around him. “So you serve a king?”

Ser Aurum chuckled. “The only real king on this planet lives in Arcadia. Out here, that word can mean so very little, my young friend. I was knighted by the old king of Arcadia, but that was years ago, before I left for these parts.”

“Why’d you leave?”

The man slumped just a bit in his saddle. “I had a family, and we came out here for a fresh start. Unfortunately, they were taken from me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Seventeen muttered, prompting a shake of the head from his new acquaintance.

“You didn’t know, and that was many years ago. I’ve spent the last decade of my life traveling and trying to keep the little people safe,” he laughed. “I’ve run afoul of a few kings and dukes and all sorts of thugs with made-up titles. The Hinterlands, especially here in Laconia, can sometimes be a rough place.”

“Lovely.”

Aurum shrugged his shoulders. “That’s likely not the operative word.” A pause lingered for a few moments too long before the man continued to speak. “The nearest settlement is Zamara. You should be able to find some answers there.”

“Sounds good,” Seventeen replied as his new companion chuckled before gently asking his giant bird to run faster.

 

[Beatrix III]

Beatrix sank into the booth she was sitting in, propping her black boots on the table. Her hood was pulled up over her head, the only visible features of her face being the strands of red hair flowing out from the shadows. Balancing on the tip of one of her leather embraced hands was a short throwing knife. Now that the Sorceress had paid off her tab she was allowed back into the bar she had so faithfully served years ago. They had spared Jaina any of the serious details, her glowing red irises darted to the white haired woman as she crossed the room carrying two full flagons of cool ale fresh from the cellar. While her hair was bleached white, there was a thick strip of blonde that ran through it.

“I don’t see how you can put so much of this away and continue to stay thin.” The woman wearing field plate said as she set both mugs down and slid them to her partner.

The entire town knew who Beatrix was. They knew she had kept her husbands name after his demise. They also knew better than to cross her without at least having the town guard in tow. Jack Foehammer, feeling sorry for the lass, just kept enabling her alcoholism as long she paid her tab. Better to keep the woman off the street and in the tavern than have her on the street wielding the abilities she did. The dwarf eyed the duo from atop his stool behind the bar and sighed, stroking his beard, before going back to tallying his earnings for the day.

“I’ve never had to worry about my figure.” Zulenka said as she gripped one of mugs and leaned it back into her gullet.

The pseudo-blonde slid into the seat across from her and sighed watching her lover drain the giant wooden mug in one go. Slamming the flagon onto the table the redhead dropped her feet to the floor and unleashed an echoing belch. Some of the patrons roared in approval; most of them dwarves.

“Sometimes I wonder about you, love.”

“If you want to see me naked all you gotta do is ask.” Beatrix smirked, her face red from the alcohol.

Jaina laughed, making eye contact with her red eyed partner. Unclasping the cloak on her back she slid the fabric away from her body and loosened the straps on her shoulder plates.

“We need to talk.”

“If you think you can do better than me. Go for it.” Beatrix replied, chuckling as she sank back into her seat again, using one leg to push herself into the corner.

With one hand on the mug of ale that she hadn’t touched yet, she began sipping it, her eyes not leaving Proudmoore’s face, who looked as if she had been slapped.

“That’s not what I meant.” Jaina said, her face turning red. “I’m worried you’re going to drink yourself into an early grave.”

“You’re just mad I outdrank you and that dwarf out at Skullbone Keep.” The assassin burped again, quieter this time before placing the half empty flagon back onto their table.

“I’m serious, Beatrix. The only time you aren’t inebriated is when you’re in combat or on-“

“And?” The redhead interrupted.

“I’m just…worried. Your drinking is getting worse by the day.”

Pushing the empty mug away the Sanguine Phoenix, as she was known in Zamara and in most of the surrounding region, stared at her partner. Jaina met the blood red gaze of her lovers’ eyes. Her irises had been green before the accident, however since becoming infused with Blood Magic they were a vibrant shade of red that often glowed when she was upset, taking things seriously, or severely drunk. This made it hard for the Sorceress to read her lovers face by her eyes alone anymore. They had known each other as work associates before the accident and while she had been married to Vladimir. She knew how much he had meant to her and she could only imagine the pain she went through watching him die. As these thoughts raced through Jaina’s head she watched as Beatrix’s face disappeared into the shadows until the only thing she could see were her eyes.

The redhead sighed, burping once more.

“I appreciate the concern. I do, but you’re worried for nothing.”

She wasn’t about to tell her that she was having nightmares. Both involving her dead husband and the sanguine phoenix that saved her life.

Biting her lip, she reached down to her thigh and whipped her arm upward, a throwing knife flying loose from her fingers. The blade landed on the doorframe as a man in a turban entered the bar. The room went silent as an assassin known only as The Cobra wrenched the blade free and smiled a toothy grin.

“I figured you’d be here, Phoenix. Just can’t escape your old watering hole.”

“How much this time?” She said, sliding out from her booth in the center of the room on the first floor.

“25 pieces to tell him you’re in the next city over.” The Cobra replied.

“Whatever this is, Beatrix…” Jack said from behind his bar to which Cobra flipped him a minted gold coin worth 100 pieces.

“Thanks for the tip, but she’s ex-Crazy Eights and while we are currently not on the best of terms if I let retired gang members get killed on me own turf, good terms or not. How good of a leader would I be?”

With a whistle the room was up and armed. A giant burly dwarf with a mohawk jumped down from the second floor wielding a pair of axes.

“I believe it best, ye leave, Cobra.” He said.

The turban wearing man smiled another toothy grin before spinning around with a flourish of his cloak, heading towards the door and out into the cool Zamaran night.

“Who’d ya piss off this time, lass?” Jack said, as Beatrix approached the bar.

“You’re better off not knowing. I appreciate the help. How much?”

“Three jobs.” The dwarf said looking at his book briefly, before meeting the red eyed gaze of his previous subordinate.

“Fine.”

 

[Android XVII]

After a silent hour, the pair pulled up on the outskirts of a walled town. Seventeen gingerly descended from the bird and took a moment to adjust his tattered jeans before glancing up to the face of his new acquaintance.

“This is Zamara,” Aurum declared, waving a hand toward the gates that lay ahead of them. They don’t overly police who goes in and out of the city, because it’s a regional trade hub. You may want to go find some new clothes, because you look like someone who just got chewed up and spit out by a dragon.

Seventeen grinned. “You don’t know the half of it, pal.”

The knight smirked back and reached into his saddle bag. A moment later, he tossed a small satchel at the cyborg, who caught it over his head and heard the distinctive jingle of coins.

“You’ll need some gold.”

“You’ve already been charitable enough to me,” Seventeen protested.

“Nonsense,” Aurum replied. “There’s no such thing as ‘charitable enough’, and if it will bother you that much, you can always repay me once you’ve got your feet back under you.”

The raven-haired warrior nodded his head. “Do you live here?”

Aurum shook his head. “Nay, I haven’t had a true home in many years. I tend to roam. I have many allies who are more than happy to offer me a bed or a barn to sleep in.”

After a final handshake, the two men went their separate ways, with Ser Aurum and Maximus returning to the wildness as Seventeen passed through the gates of Zamara. Like the knight had said, the people at the gate gave him confused looks but didn’t accost him. For some odd reason, the cyborg half-expected them to come at him with scowls and ask to pat down the ravaged clothing that clung to his lithe figure.

Once he was free of the gate, Seventeen turned his focus to trying to navigate the city. From the outside, it had been hard to gauge its size, but now that he was wandering the cobblestone walkways, he started to feel like he could easily get lost. After fifteen minutes of trying and failing to keep track of where he was heading, the cybernetic warrior came to an abrupt stop near an open storefront. Like something out of South City’s market district, the shop had set up a bunch of clothes on racks outside to draw in customers.

“Can I help you?” A woman replied when she saw the skinny, pale man with rags for clothes meander to her store. She paused when he gave her a warm smile. “I think that was rhetorical,” she smirked as she glanced at some men’s clothing nearby.

“I have money,” Seventeen spoke as he pulled up the coin purse and spilled a few of the gold pieces into his palm. “I hit my head, so you’re going to have to help me a little,” he added before the woman gestured him to follow her into the store. On their way in, she tapped someone on the shoulder and asked them to mind the street.

The cybernetic warrior couldn’t be certain, but he surely felt that the ensuing process involved a lot more touching and lingering hands than it should have. The woman continued to ensure him that this was all part of ‘tailoring’ as she measured his various dimensions to adjust the clothes she intended him to wear. In the end, he had to admit the mild groping was worth the fact that the wool outfit fit just about as perfectly as his double shirt and blue jeans would.

“How do you like this?” The woman asked as she walked him over to a floor length mirror in the corner of the tailoring space.

Seventeen furrowed his brow as he twisted his hips and craned his neck until he had given himself the once over. He had never been a fan of the baggy pants look, but he had to admit the brown trousers weren’t terrible. They tucked nicely into the leather boots, and the belt had a fancy, oversized buckle. The Power Sword had a new scabbard, although the woman recommended seeing someone to have the blade polished.

For his upper body, the cyborg had been enclosed in a loosely fitting white shirt. While the cuffs fit snug, the sleeves themselves were a little puffier than one might imagine necessary given the environment. Atop the undershirt, she had clothed him in a leather vest and a heavy coat. Despite looking bulky, the outfit fit relatively well and didn’t weigh him down. “The buttons are nice,” the cyborg muttered as he reached down and grasped the handle of the Power Sword. He was used to having the weapon strapped over his shoulder like a gun, so it felt weird to have it dangle.

After he had paid the woman for the clothes and the tailoring, she extended a hand for a shake. “Name is Maggie.”

Seventeen paused for a few moments before responding. “Stephen,” he finally replied with a grin. “Stephen Juunanagou the 17th.”

“That’s a lot of Steves,” the seamstress snickered.

“Uncreative family, that’s for sure,” Seventeen chuckled as he bid farewell to the woman and exited back onto the street. With his fancy new threads, he felt like he blended in perfectly to the rustic city. He’d never been the type of thrive in the espionage missions, but it certainly felt like he had suited up for some type of elaborate spy quest. After a few more blocks, however, he found himself dreaming of burgers rather than car chases and silenced pistols.

“Bingo,” he muttered as he caught the façade for a small store. As he drew closer, he paused at the sound of someone yelling inside the establishment.

“What do you mean my money’s no good?” A woman slurred. “You had no problem taking my money last week in exchange for your crummy food.”

“Beatrix, we don’t want your business,” a man sheepishly replied as Seventeen crept closer to the building. A look inside revealed a woman in her early thirties arguing with a small man and a pair of young, solider-looking people decked out with armored chest plates. “I told you this last time you came rampaging through here. You’re not a blood phoenix, you’re a bloody tornado. You owe me for the damages.”

“I don’t remember any damages,” the woman replied, punctuating her remark by jabbing a finger at the businessman and giving a pronounced hicc before swaying backwards.

“Do you even remember last week?” One of the guards muttered.

“You came sober up in custody, Beatrix Zulenka,” his partner muttered as he made a move at the woman.

For reasons he’d never be able to explain, Seventeen lifted a palm and fired a bolt of ki at the guard. The low-charge blast crashed against the guard’s chest plate and sent him through a wooden shelving unit. Seeing what was going on, the redhead twisted to face the other guard and buried a knee into his crotch. Before he could even finish doubling over, she had grabbed him by his armor and sent him soaring through the front counter of the convenience store.

“Guards!” The business owner screamed before Beatrix knocked him out with a palm to the forehead. Her eyes met Seventeen, who gestured very abruptly in the direction of approaching plate boots.

“Yea, yea,” Beatrix grumbled as she paused by the front of the store to scoop up a handful of candies.

A moment later, the two vanished into the nearby alley as a flood of guardsmen arrived on the scene.

 

[Beatrix III]

For a woman who was completely inebriated, Beatrix dashed through the crowded alley with the precision and agility Seventeen had only seen in few others. In fact, it took him by surprise when she planned one of her weathered boots into the stone walls around them and took to jumping her way to the roof. She was ahead of him as they fled and whilst he kept an eye on where he was going, her acrobatic skill as she cleared the gaps between buildings or switched what side she on, was impressive. As the duo turned a corner to exit the alley, they were faced with a pair of guards who just happened to be unlucky enough to be in their way. Before Seventeen could do anything, Beatrix slid down the roof she was on and proceeded to fall, gracefully mind you, down onto the guards. The impact knocked one out immediately and a swift kick took care of the second.

A sigh from behind them made Seventeen turn around.

“You know Zamara is one the few remaining cities that will even tolerate your presence, babe. This is going to be hard to explain.” Jaina said, leaning on her staff.

“I have faith in your ability to explain away anything, blondie.” Beatrix said with a grin.

Seventeen was confused. “Who is this?”

“This is Jaina Proudmoore. Best negotiator and slayer of pussy in the Kingdom.” Beatrix said with a laugh, stumbling against the wall.

Jaina’s face turned beet red before stepping over the unconscious guards and grabbing her lover by the arm.

“We have a safe house not far from here. You’re welcome to join us while we sort out the legal ramifications of this evening.”

“We also have to discuss that job Foehammer gave us.” She said directly to Zulenka.

***​

It only took a few minutes of running through back alleys before the trio came to the specific side street of debauchery that the safe house was on. Unfortunately, the assassin from the bar was leaning against the door waiting for them.

“Leave Cobra. We’re not looking for a fight.” Jaina spoke firmly, stepping forward.

Before she could grab Beatrix’s arm to hold her back the drunken woman was sprinting forward. Slapping her hands together in front of Proudmoore’s face she flashed a toothy grin to her lover, exposing the blade she had just caught from the air. As usual the alcohol began to steam from her pores bringing the redheaded assassin crashing back down to reality at an alarming rate. Along with it came the stinging hangover. If Cobra wanted a fight, he would have one.

“I got this. It’s time this cheap bastard stopped eating my breadcrumbs once and for all.” Beatrix said as she reached towards her thigh.

Jaina pulled their new friend to the side and stomped the butt of her staff to the ground. A void of shadow encompassed the alley around them. Miss Zulenka caught another one of The Cobra’s knives, thumbing it around her gloved hand. Rubbing her thumb across the cutting surface she grinned.

“Typical of you poison assassins. You can’t win in true combat, so you let chemicals do the work for you!” With a slap of her hands she stretched them apart and formed a spear out of liquid blood.

Hurling the weapon at the foe in front of her she smiled as he nimbly avoided her attack. The javelin exploded harmlessly against the wall in a shower of crimson liquid. Narrowing her eyes, she watched as The Cobra threw another blade.

Too late.

The energy that made Beatrix’s pupils glow red shifted as she drew the blade from her back and deflected the projectile off to the side. Closing the gap before Cobra could react, he went for his short sword but found his arm being pulled away from the hilt of his weapon. Zulenka threw her full weight into her shoulder and knocked him backward. Grabbing his sword arm she drove her own blade through his chest. As The Cobra dropped to his knees, she clenched shut her left hand, forming a spear of liquid crimson with which she then drove through his skull. Hardening on impact with his skin the spear skewered his brain and ended the life of one of many assassin rivals.

Placing a boot to chest of her dead foe, Beatrix withdrew her blade. The crimson blood on it floated away from the steel magically before dropping to the ground. Twirling the blackened steel blade Miss Zulenka fluidly sheathed her weapon and proceeded back to Jaina.

“Shall we?” The redhead motioned toward the safehouse door.

 

[Android XVII]

The machine-hybrid nursed a headache as the trio slipped through the steel doors of the safehouse. Once the deadbolt slid into place with a satisfying schnick, a series of small explosions blossomed around the perimeter of the entranceway. Seventeen threw up an arm at the sound of the prepackaged cordite bursting to life, but when nothing tore into his exposed flesh or charred him, he lowered the limb and blinked at the sight of the many ensconced torches now burning warmly throughout the foyer.

“They’re motion sensitive,” Beatrix burped as she smacked a grimy, bloodstained hand onto the man’s shoulder. “Want me to open the door and do it again?” She said as fresh waves of booze-laced breath washed over her new acquaintances face.

“I’m good, I promise,” Seventeen replied with an uneasy smile as the blonde woman strode forward.

Jaina traversed the entrance and gave a rhythmic tap across the metal door that served as the only visible exit to the room. At the sound of her last thud upon the solid steel gate, a section of the wall to the north of the room slid up to reveal a solitary rope ladder tucked into a person-sized recess.

“This way,” Jaina said with a proud smile as she made her way to the formerly concealed ladder.

Seventeen furrowed his brow as the woman sashayed away from the only other door in the room. “What’s the door for then?”

Before Jaina could get a response in, Beatrix clamped her hand down onto the machine-hybrid’s shoulder once more and provided a booze-scented response. “Boobytrap,” she whispered, as if it were the most precious secret in all of the multiverse. “You ever been impaled?”

The cyborg smiled faintly as he gently unclamped his shoulder from her grip. “Once or twice,” he made it a few steps before turning to whisper. “You know… with swords and stuff.”

Beatrix threw her head back with a laugh that didn’t dry up until the trio had descended the rope ladder into what was seemingly the secret headquarters of the twosome.

“In reality,” Jaina spoke as she flicked on some switches to provide light to the room. Rather than fluorescent lights or even incandescent bulbs, it was a series of surprisingly bright candles set into wall recesses that illuminated their surroundings. “The door just lets you into the above-ground portion of these quarters. That’s mostly for show, though. All the grownup work takes place down here.”

“So what are you two?” Seventeen asked as Trixie wandered off somewhere. The redhead let out a burp before the cyborg heard what almost sounded like a fridge door being thrown open.

“Well that’s lovely specimen is Trixie, and I am Jaina,” the blonde stated matter-of-factly as she shed her outer layer of clothes and tossed them effortlessly onto a hook across the room.

“And I’m Seventeen, but I think we already did the name exchange.”

“Ahh,” Jaina nodded as she turned and made her way into an adjacent room. She was followed by the machine-hybrid, who glanced around at what seemed to be a little office before watching her open a few leather-bound books. When Jaina saw that she had been followed, pointed to a shelf. “Beatrix kills people for money. She also used to be an accomplished soldier, and after that, she was even a more accomplished gangster-slash-mercenary. She had a husband, and he died. She drinks now. Drinks and kills people for money.”

“And you are…?”

Jaina turned. She had a slight scowl on her face. “I’m her close associate.” The way she phrased those words made Seventeen believe that was just the tip of a convoluted iceberg, but he really didn’t think it imperative to dig into whatever weird relationship the pair had. “I like to think I keep her walking the tightrope, rather than plunging into the madness.”

“I see,” Seventeen muttered, picking up on a tone that implied the blonde’s job was possibly a thankless one.

“Who are you?”

Somewhere in underground house, Seventeen picked up on the groaning of pipes and the spray of water from a showerhead. “I’m new here. I think I fell into a blackhole. Or I died. Or maybe both?”

Jaina chuckled. “Welcome to the Crossroads, then. Get use to the crazy. It doesn’t go away.”

 

[Beatrix III]

“You can take the spare room.” Jaina said as she closed the tome she was palming.

Beatrix stumbled across the living room and made her way to the couch. The brief tussle with The Cobra had left her little more than buzzed now as her inherent blood magic had purged any impurities from her system as she fought. Collapsing face first into the smelly piece of furniture, Beatrix rolled onto the floor and clenched her teeth as uncontrollable convulsions came over her. Hearing a glass shattering upon the floor, Jaina stepped into the living room to see her lover writhing and flailing on the floor.

“Get a rag from the washroom!” She barked to Seventeen, who nodded immediately, taking off down the hall.

“Hold on, babe.” The sorceress said arriving to Beatrix’s side.

She pried her lovers mouth open and inserted a leather bit that Beatrix immediately chomped down on instead of her own teeth. Jaina took the redhead’s hand in her own, stroking her hair and cooing softly. Seventeen returned with a wet wash cloth that the white-haired scholar took and gently applied to Zulenka’s forehead.

“Fight it, sweetheart. Come back to us.” Proudmoore said as she pulled Beatrix into a tight embrace.

“Is this a normal occurrence?” Seventeen asked as he pulled the coffee table away from the couch to give them more room.

Jaina lifted her face away from Beatrix’s hair, her cheeks stained with tears, and looked at him.

“Yes. It’s a long story, but yes.”

Tears began to run down the Mistress’ face as her broken mind ravaged her body. As quickly as it had begun the seizure was over and unconsciousness quickly followed. Picking up the limp assassin, Jaina carried her over to their room, stopping in the door way to look back.

“Thank you. Make yourself at home, in the morning we have much to discuss.” With that she headed into the room and shut the door.

Carefully placing Beatrix on her side of the bed, Jaina broke down and began sobbing quietly. Burying her face into the unconscious woman’s clothing she wrapped her arms around her and pleaded with everything she had that she might find a way to ease the suffering of the one dearest to her. Beatrix’s hand on her head made the woman look up. She felt her robes being pulled on as Zulenka made Jaina crawl into bed on top of her. Pressing her lips to Proudmoore’s the redhead wrapped her arms around the woman’s neck. The Mistress could taste the tears that her lover been shedding.

Pulling away she placed her forehead against Jaina’s. “No need to cry, my love.”

With a smile she unfastened Jaina’s clothing and began to peel it away from her body.

***​

Beatrix slammed a photograph down on the dining room table. The elf woman on the parchment had black hair and was adorned in black furs. Protruding from her back was the hilt of a blade adorned with a skull.

“Elizabeth Warren is our target. She’s a necromancer that the City has placed a bounty on. Considering my area of expertise, Arcadia has given this to me to handle in return for the right to call this city home.” The redhead explained as she took a leather knife belt from a nearby hook on the wall.

“Our first lead is to the west of here.” Jaina exited the bedroom already clothed, her staff at it’s resting place by the door.

Beatrix tugged on her knife belt, walking over to a pile of rolled parchment. Picking up the one she was looking for the Mistress unraveled it and spread it across the table. Seventeen could see what looked to be a cartographer drawing of the land west of the City.

“It’s about a two-day ride. We’ll get you a horse on the way out of the city.” The redhead continued to explain as she buckled her sword to her back and went for her cloak.

“What she means is that we’re going to steal you one.” Jaina said with a sigh.

“Can’t we just teleport?” Seventeen asked, suggesting Jaina had the power to get them their much faster.

“While white hair here can do that, our mark is a Necromancer. She’ll sense incoming magic from miles away. We need to get the element of surprise. I don’t want a repeat of the Hinterlands incident.” Beatrix wrapped her cloak around her body and clasped it in place.

“Wait. What is the Hinterlands incident?” Both Seventeen and Jaina spoke aloud, throwing the raven-haired cyborg off.

“An entire family came back to life to try and kill me. I’ll tell you the story on the way. Fun times.” Mistress Zulenka already had the door open and a flask in her hand.

 

[Android XVII]

“Well,” Seventeen found himself sitting in a small little ‘guest room’ in the underground lair of a tandem of pseudo-lesbian assassins. All he needed now was some talking turtles to really sell the scene of how absurd it all felt. “I think we fucked up,” he spoke to his reflection in the cracked mirror.

It had been a few minutes since he’d left the pair who had been ‘kind’ enough to usher him into their lair. Try as he may to find some fault in the women, Seventeen didn’t pick up any malignant vibes from either of them. They were both certainly killers, but his own history wasn’t one of gumdrops, rainbows, and kittens.

Lifting his head to the ceiling, Seventeen imagined he could see through the wood and into the night sky. He was certainly somewhere far from Earth and likely outside of the north quadrant. Whether he was anywhere close to home was something he’d have to figure out in due time. It was possible that the blackhole had spat him out on the other side of the universe.

“Or,” Seventeen started as he twisted up his mouth for a short moment. “Different universe?” Could he have been flushed out of his own universe entirely?

There was a gentle creaking from the other corner of the underground structure, and despite a slight headache and some confusion, the machine-hybrid knew enough to understand that his two hosts were relaxing in their own special way. Stepping away from the cot, Seventeen made his way to the wardrobe that rested in the corner of the room. Inside, he found nothing akin to what he normally liked to wear—everything he laid his eyes upon was buckles and leather.

“I guess I was expecting a little too much,” he muttered as he pulled out one of the outfits and noted that it had the appearance of something that hadn’t been worn in a long time. Had Trixie mentioned a previous marriage? Maybe those girls had previously been part of a drag scene. Until he found a modern clothing store or developed the ability to magically snap new clothes into existence, Seventeen would have to make due with cosplay.

After returning the clothes to the wardrobe, the cyborg tapped the side of his head and pursed his lips again. In his living days, his natural vision had been overlaid with a HUD and an internal display. Everything had been tethered to a processor and a system of intricate cybernetics that wove through nearly every square inch of his lanky, pallid form. When he had died for the last time, the systems had been rendered inert. His sensei had laconically stated that ‘your dead’ when asked by the subsystems and computer routines no longer functioned.

Yet, in this weird little realm there was no halo above the machine-hybrid’s head. Yet, he couldn’t be alive, or he would at least expect something from the synthetic aspects of his physique.

Means I’m still probably dead.

“Maybe this is just some far-flung corner of the afterlife, then…” Seventeen trailed off as he glimpsed over his shoulder at the mirror. His reflection didn’t buy into that hypothesis, since there was no chance in hell he’d find a minute’s peace without King Kai or his boss squawking at him to report back. If the Stallions were dealt with, then there would certainly be something else for Seventeen or Minoshia to do before they could return to the golf course for another stab at the new back nine.

“We’re just going to have to see how this all plays out,” Seventeen spoke to the man in the mirror as he adjusted the collar on his coat.

There was still the question of why the woman felt so familiar… like a second cousin that you haven’t seen in ten years.

***​

The pair of women scowled at their new ‘companion’. Both Beatrix and Jaina were a few paces ahead of him, and the pair seemed almost stately atop a pair of horses rented from a local stable at the edge of town. A few paces behind them, Seventeen bobbled up-and-down and side-to-side atop one of the giant yellow ostriches—Ere, a chocobo, my bad. The young man wore a shit-eating grin on his face as the trio made their way from Zamara.

“You do know that a horse would provide you more comfort,” Jaina remarked once they made it from the town limits and could work up into a trot.

Seventeen smirked. “I figured… with all those sounds and noises coming from your room, that you wouldn’t be so vanilla when it came to other decisions.”

The machine-hybrid sprinted up ahead, leaving behind a red-faced Jaina and a snorting Beatrix.

 

[Android XVII]

The travel from Zamara took a little under an hour with the help of their mounts.

“That’s the place?” Seventeen asked as the trio came to a halt nearly a hundred meters from what seemed to be a large manor home. At Jaina’s behest, they quickly slipped from their mounts and shooed the animals back into the cover of the nearby tree line.

“Yes, that’s the residence of the necromancer,” Jaina whispered as she started to check the various pouches she carried on her person. “We should make certain we are well prepared for the battle that awaits us. If my intelligence is to be believed, this is a treacherous foe who has long made a mockery of very institution of life.”

Seventeen blinked a few times before silently turning to look at the building. Aside from some terror-inducting black tiles on the roof, it didn’t seem like the spot where a dreaded necromancer would have her lair. Either way, this was where their path had taken them, and this was where the pair of women would have to fight their battle against a fearsome foe.

“Are you ready, Jaina?” Beatrix spoke softly as she stepped in front of her companion. The alcoholic assassin had clear eyes and spoke with conviction in her voice. Given the fact that she had been sneaking hits at her flask the entire ride over, Seventeen was surprised at how coherent and lucid she appeared to be as they started their slow creep toward the structure. “Our best should be to infiltrate through a side entrance. It’s a large enough home that there may have been a separate servant’s entrance at some point.”

“Lead the way,” the cyborg whispered as he fell in behind the assassin. In the rear, Jaina protected their flanks as she cradled her staff.

The trio traversed the grounds of the old manor home and worked their way around to the eastern side of the structure. As Beatrix had wagered, there was a solitary wooden door that could be opened with a slight finagling of the lock.

“Got it,” the assassin grumbled as she jammed the metal rod through the keyhole and used it to leverage away the entire latching mechanism. She tossed the rod and the lock into some thick grass and grinned at her companions. “And they told me I would never pass rogue school… fuckers.”

“Your mother must be so proud,” Seventeen whispered as he tapped the hilt of the Power Sword for good luck. He hadn’t seen her in years, but he still liked to think that Paige was somewhere looking over him. That was much better than any of the alternatives, after all.

That she dumped your ass and is off being some celestial demigod?

“Are you coming?” Beatrix rasped as she leaned and jabbed one of her fingers into the cyborg’s scrawny gut. “We don’t have all afternoon.”

“Why are we assassinating someone in the day time, anyway?” Seventeen asked as he glimpsed at the sun as it began its slow descent over the trees.

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Jaina whispered as she gestured toward a door in the corner of the room. “With any luck, we can ambush the necromancer as she is doing something nasty or dastardly.”

“Stab her in the back, got it.” Seventeen replied as the trio crept through the small kitchen and made their way through an adjoining hallway. Through the next door, they found themselves in what seemed to be a large library. As they stepped inside, the door slammed behind them and a light flashed on above their heads.

An angry voice accosted them from the other side of the library. “You dare infiltrate my sanctum?”

Seventeen rubbed the daze from his eyes and focused on the woman who stood opposite of them.

Clad in what seemed to be a burlap pant suit, she scowled at them as she crossed her arms over her chest. In her late middle age, the necromancer looked more akin to an irate librarian scolding some loud-mouthed children.

“Ms. Warren, I presume?” Jaina spoke as she took a few steps forward. “You have deigned the purpose of our visit?”

The necromancer sneered as she pointed a finger at Beatrix. “I never thought they’d said the period phoenix and her dyke magician after me.”

Beatrix suddenly snickered, eliciting a deep scowl from Jaina.

“Surrender yourself,” the blonde demanded. “Or else we will be forced to return with your head.”

“Go sit on a dick.” The necromancer said. “Or better yet, let me conjur—a”

The older woman’s eyes suddenly went wide as a flash of light smacked her chest and a splash of blood promptly erupted from her back, staining the bookshelf behind her. Glancing down, the necromancer saw that there was a cauterized hole clean through where her most important organs should be. Looking across the room as blood started to bubble out of her mouth, she saw the silent, dark-haired man chuckle as he blew the smoke from his outstretched palm.

With a thud, the necromancer fell dead to the floor.

Seventeen smiled as two pairs of eyes turned to him. There was confusion on the faces of both Beatrix and Jaina. “Wait, was I not supposed to kill her?” He asked genuinely as Beatrix threw her head back and started to cackle.

“Drinks on me!” The assassin shouted as she drew a blade and hacked off the dead woman’s head.

 

[Beatrix III]

The tavern in southwestern Zamara was bustling with revels as Seventeen and Beatrix danced their way across one of the patron tables. Jaina was sipping something girly at the bar and pinching the bridge of her nose as her two companions slowly dove into the realm of inebriation. That is until Beatrix noticed her lover sitting at the bar alone as the bar around them reveled in their success at killing the necromancer. Grabbing the woman by her robes, she yanked the white-haired woman from her seat, the blonde streak of hair running through her hair becoming visible. It was one of the assassin’s favorite features about Ms. Proudmoore.

“You need to join us, blondie!” She knew Jaina didn’t like her white hair as much as the blonde it used to be.

Some accident where she had overused her arcane energies had caused her hair to turn color.

“Drink with us, or I won’t do that thing you like with my tongue,” Beatrix giggled to herself, spilling her drink as she took another swig.

“W-what?” Jaina said, immediately turning beet red.

“Don’t be such a prude. It’s sex. You love it; I love it, so does everyone here in this bar!”

“Right!?” The redhead shouted back to the patrons, and they cheered loudly.

Handing a flagon to her lover, the Mistress winked and pecked her on the cheek with a gentle kiss. Jaina was a gentle flower compared to the assassin. Beatrix knew she could only push so far before it would start to upset the sorceress. With a shrug, the magic user slammed the flagon and her other drink before tapping the bar.

“Oh shit,” Beatrix said turning to the dancing group. “Hey, Seventeen! She’s going to join us!”

The room cheered wildly their companion raising his mug and taking a long drink. The bartender had laid out six shot glasses and filled them with clear red liquid.

“Blood Burners? Girl, you know what happened-,” Beatrix began, but it was too late.

Tapping each shot glass to the bar counter before downing it, Jaina went through all six in less than ten seconds.

“Oh shit!” Beatrix downed the rest of her drink and slammed the flagon down on the bar.

Jaina had become red in the face as the alcohol began to hit her all at once. Summoning her staff from the corner, she stomped the floor and began to levitate. Immediately she began to strip her robes off, dancing around her staff like an erotic dancer. Beatrix burst into laughter as the tavern erupted into cheers at the arrival of live entertainment. The Mistress had a lithe and petite figure; she had curves, but they were nothing compared to Jaina’s. She was a perfectly carved curvaceous beauty with lightly toned muscles; a goddess in some regards. The sorceress pulled out the braid in her hair and let it drape across her now topless form, hiding her bosom.

Beatrix ordered another round and laughed as the magic user ignited both of her fists and launched fireballs across the room, aiming for the unlit sconces on the wall. The only problem is that the ball of fire that hit each wall decoration exploded on impact and started catching other bits of the tavern on fire.

“Hey! Stop! You’ll burn the place down!” The bartender shouted.

To the drunk Jaina, this meant that it was a wise idea to wind up with her staff and launch the largest ball of fire she could directly at the bar.

“Hit the deck!” Beatrix shouted.

As the spell hit the bar, the entire collection of liquor ignited and ripped through the tavern, a massive inferno engulfing the wall and ceiling. As the backup stock caught fire a secondary explosion blew out the wall and ruptured the giant kegs of ale, emptying them into the street for the peasants to siphon off the cobbled street with their mouths. The sound of armor clanking and the shouts of scared patrons snapped Beatrix out of her drunken haze.

“Ah shit.”

***​

“This emergency session of the city council is called to order!” The judge said as he hammered his gavel.

“We have been assembled at this unforsaken hour of the morning to finally handle something that has been on everyone’s mind for a very long time.”

Beatrix was standing in the middle of the giant courtroom with restraints on her hands and feet. Seventeen and the green looking Jaina had been thrown in the drunk tank for the night. The assassin, who could purge her blood on the fly, sobered up and was immediately marched to the City Hall.

“Beatrix Zulenka, third of your name. You stand accused of causing various disturbances in our peaceful town over the history of your residence here. You have skated by long enough on your past deeds for our liege lord. For your service in our local militia and the assistance with ridding our area of unwanted criminals. Those deeds alone cannot protect you from the fact that you are a menace to society.”

The room erupted into murmurs forcing the judge to hammer his gavel.

“Some council members have stated we should be lenient considering the recent loss of your husband, but we cannot sit idly by while you destroy or livelihood. Your problems are not for the city to deal with. It is with this view that I render the verdict that you are permanently banned from the city of Zamara. If you are even caught visiting your husbands grave, you will be executed for violating the terms of your banishment. Do I make myself clear?”

Tears of blood had started running down the woman’s cheeks.

“What say you, Phoenix!?”

The room was quieter than it had ever been as Beatrix raised her face to meet the gaze of the council, her cheeks stained with her red tears.

“Yes. Crystal clear, sir.”

With a smash of his gavel, the verdict was passed.

“Georg. Certainly we can let her visit the grave of her husband?”

“She’s welcome to do so before she leaves, but once she exits our city her and her associates will not be allowed back. They can take what they can carry. The city guard will confiscate the rest of it later.” The judge replied to his fellow council member.

Beatrix dropped to her knees, and for the first time in a year, she began to sob as the guards came to take her away to her friends.

***​

By the time the city guard had escorted her back to the drunk tank she had composed herself and wiped the tears from her face.

“So, what’s the news?” Seventeen asked as the door guard ushered the redhead through.

“We’re banished from the city to be executed if we ever return. We can take from our home what we can carry and pack onto our horses, but everything else the city is going to confiscate.”

With a sigh, Beatrix put her back against the bars and slid down to the floor.

“Oh god…” Jaina said as a gurgle escaped her mouth.

The redhead shoved a bucket over to the blonde just in time for her to empty the contents of her stomach into it.

Why did you have to leave me?