Tonight... A Jedi chops wood. The Clones take a tank for walkies. And Banshee does things to Reaper... oh my!
-Chapter 137: Escalation-
Location: Orinda
"Rising tempers lower boundaries."
Previously...
After another pause, in which Wraith deduced that recalling his past was something that weighed heavily on Reaper's shoulders, the super-soldier turned to him with a fairly serious look in his eyes. "Look... I don't really like to talk about my family-"
"Say no more, friend." Wraith stopped him, placing a hand on his shoulder, "I get it." This was hard for him and he wanted to move past the hurt, not remember it. "Just know that, if it ever gets difficult, you can talk to me." Since Reaper was his brother-in-arms, Wraith felt bound and determined to be there for him. His fellow super-soldier nodded in thanks, appreciative of the gesture.
On the other side of the access door, Banshee had paused, listening to the conversation as it unfolded. The details about Reaper's past life intrigued her and she made note about the family he never spoke of and the tragedy he'd endured. The details about his enhancements were not new to her as she had studied the capabilities of her 'teacher' to better prepare herself for training skirmishes against him.
With her knowledge having grown, Banshee recomposed herself and stepped through the doorway, ready to inform them about their upcoming mission to Dathomir...
Presently...
Located in the eponymous system of the Irishi Sector, Orinda was a terrestrial world of green continents and blue oceans. However, its location along the Entralla Trade Route made it a world of strategic importance to the Republic's war effort. Since it seemed like the Separatists were going to use trading hyperspace lanes to make deep incursions into Republic space, they made their stand by barricading and blocking off worlds close to the Outer Rim border, Orinda being one of them.
The 41st Elite Corps, under the joint command of Mace Windu and Kit Fisto, was stationed on the planet, seeking to repel a potential Separatist invasion fleet. A single army division was already planetside and the two Jedi analyzed their position on a holotable.
"Our most recent positioning data places the droid army at the edge of this forest. It's most likely that they'll be moving to attack our position soon." Mace observed, pointing out the red and blue markers highlighted before them.
"It's likely they'll have armored divisions. We should try to take them out before they're in a position to shell us." Kit suggested and his comrade agreed.
"Our goal right now is to deplete the Separatists of equipment and manpower and keep them from making any gains in the Mid Rim. It's bad enough they control the Outer Rim now, but we absolutely cannot afford to lose any more ground to them."
"They're running us ragged, aren't they?" Kit wondered.
"I'd rather be pushing them back in the Outer Rim. Instead, we're fending them off almost on our doorstep." The senior Councilor said.
"Still, could be a lot worse. They could be on our actual doorstep." Kit mused thoughtfully. Mace couldn't deny that. It was then that Commander Dusk entered the briefing room with a new report for them. He removed his purple-striped helmet and his expression was grim.
"Generals, we just got word from our forward scouts. They've sighted a super-soldier behind Separatist lines." The Clone informed them. "No concrete identity yet." Mace and Kit shared almost tired looks at the notion of having to deal with a Separatist super-soldier as well.
"Right... thank you, Commander." Mace simply responded. "Mobilize our forces, we're going to secure our positions and prepare for an attack." He ordered. With a salute, Dusk donned his helmet and quickly left. Kit's ebony eyes landed on the dark-skinned human.
"It seems we've got our work cut out for us." He mused, making to leave. Mace remained for a moment longer, staring at the tactical map and mentally including a second army among the Separatist forces to represent a super-soldier, letting out an exasperated sigh as he did.
"We haven't even begun yet, and already I'm tired of these motherkriffin' droids on this motherkriffin' planet." He complained under his breath.
Miles away, at the Separatist base, battle droids of all functions and classes milled about as they prepared for the eventual conflict that loomed on the horizon. Walking through them, the towering, heavily armored, black-clad Reaper approached the nearest landing pad where a single shuttle was arriving. He had come here first to help fortify the droid army's assault plans, and now was ready to spearhead their push into Republic territory, with some assistance from a fellow super-soldier. Touching down with the engines facing him, the shuttle's rear gantry slid open to allow Banshee to emerge. The brightness of her armor and uniform were a stark contrast to the dark shades of her mission partner, not to mention just how short she was compared to him.
"Reporting for duty." She stated with a salute. The closed helmet of Reaper offered no expression as he merely tilted his head in response. "What first?"
"The Republic is shoring up their defenses as we speak. We plan on launching a two-fold approach: fighting under a shower of artillery bombardments that will blow their lines to pieces. Then we strike deep and force them off world." He answered crisply. Banshee nodded in understanding.
"Sounds simple enough." She mused, walking side by side with him as the entered the camp. "Have you given any more thought to my plan should the Titans be here?"
"I have considered it, as well as the potential alternatives." Reaper said simply.
"Then you agree? We should corner Ahsoka and kill her the moment we get a chance?" Banshee inquired, trying to hide her eagerness.
"No." The flat statement from her partner was enough to freeze the Umbaran with shock.
"Why not?" She asked as evenly as she could.
"Because there are potential repercussions you have not yet considered." Reaper explained, swinging around to face the younger super-soldier. "Chief among them; Wraith's response to the death of Ahsoka."
"Which would be joy. She stabbed him on Orron, left him for dead. Surely he wants nothing less than payback." Banshee countered.
"Not likely." Reaper said, preparing to bring his point hme. Having studied enough of Umbaran culture to give him an insight into Banshee's mindset, he had enough material on her history to teach her a lesson. "When your father failed to succeed his superior, did you feel angry towards him?" He asked. Banshee nodded slowly.
"Yes. His failure brought shame to our family."
"But he was still your father. You mourned his death during the Republic's crusade across Umbara." Her head drooping slightly, Banshee still nodded.
"Yes." She quietly repeated. Reaper stepped closer to her.
"If you kill Ahsoka, there is a chance you may drive Wraith even further away. We cannot take that risk." He said. Banshee's gaze darted up.
"But we don't know that!" She exclaimed.
"So long as it is a possibility, we know enough." Reaper stated, turning away. "Your plan has potential, but is flawed. Think more, Banshee, consider every possibility before you move. Be more like Wraith." He added, walking away and ready to leave the flustered Banshee behind. But she would not be stumped so easily and grabbed his arm, forcing his focus back towards her.
"I. Am. Not. Wraith." She growled, vehemently determined to be more than her predecessor and uniquely distinct from him. Reaper paused, studying her tense form. He could tell she was angry, possible even bitter at the comparison. But they, every super-soldier, was supposed to be the pinnacle of Separatist armies. Wraith was the bar, the goal, they all needed to be more like him. Banshee... well...
"No." He agreed after a moment. "You're worse." Leaving his statement to hang in the air, Reaper turned on heel and continued on. There were two ways of interpreting that phrase, and Banshee knew exactly which one he intended, glaring at his armored back and quietly growling under her breath.
Later that day...
The Republic defenses were entrenched but a few hundred yards from a forest, which made for easy scouting for Reaper as he crouched concealed behind foliage and swept his optical scanners over their front lines. He took careful note of the Jedi leading the charge, highlighting both Mace Windu and Kit Fisto. Both Jedi were incredibly skillful and Mace alone was classified as 'extremely deadly' on Jedi threat-level charts. Reaper knew he'd have to bring all of his skills to bear to even stand a chance against him.
Toggling his comms, a decisive plan forming in his mind, Banshee's voice filled his audio receptors shortly.
"Your orders?" She asked in a curt, almost disinterested, manner.
"I will keep the Jedi occupied. You will lead the droids against the Clones. Their focus will be divided and victory will be ours." He said. "Follow my lead. Stay close to our lines, Banshee."
"Yes sir." She huffed. Taking note of her attitude, but stowing it aside for later discussion, Reaper killed his comms and brandished his twin blaster rifles as he burst from the woods and attacked the Republic. Not expecting the sudden move, Clones were cut down instantly as bursts of red laser rounds streaked through the air and made short work of immediate defenders. A few scattered troopers sounded the alarm and battle stations were made ready as Clones took up arms and the Jedi promptly leapt into action.
Green and purple sabers ignited with a snap-hiss as Mace and Kit charged Reaper head-on. Seeing them attack, the super-soldier holstered his weapons across his back.
"Why throw away your lives so recklessly?" He asked, drawing his sharpened machete.
"We're inclined to ask you the same thing." Mace retorted, leveling his blade towards him in his unique Form VII stance. Reaper chucked, twirling his blade in his hand.
"Time to add some more kill marks to my tally." He growled, surging ahead as he made to tackle Mace. Kit promptly got in his way and swung his blade around hard, sparks skipping off the impact line drawn across his shoulder armour. Taking the hit in stride, Reaper whipped about and hacked the air with his blade, the Nautolan ducking and rolling out of the way just in time. Mace went on the attack next, bringing his blade down hard just as Reaper raised his arm and deployed his arm blade, the two clashing as he warded off the Jedi. Kit was back on his feet and they attacked together, Reaper using both blades to fed off their follow-ups.
A thunderous series of booms echoed from the forest and, moments later, fiery shells rocketed over the tree line and crashed into the Republic lines, blowing apart metal structures as well as Clones as the Separatist assault began. Banshee took point as dozens of B1 and B2 model battle droids followed her, her twin battle pistols blitzing the Clone lines with dozens of green energy bolts. The Republic troopers swiftly returned fire at the droids, blue and red mixing in a stormy hail that engulfed the middle ground as the battle began in earnest.
Banshee propelled herself forward, sprinting hard and fast as she outpaced all the other droids until it was her and her alone barreling towards the Clone lines. Her pistols disappeared into their holsters, her lightsaber gauntlet ignited, and with a shrieking war cry that caused many of the men to soil themselves, she thrust herself into their ranks, hacking and waving her blades left and right as she personally devastated the Republic lines. Scattered rounds ricocheted off her armor, doing nothing to slow her as she waded through severed body parts and dismembered Clones, priming her sonic emitter to unleash a concussive burst of solid sonic energy, blowing a line of Clones off their feet and sending them tumbling in disarray.
With her blood already running hot from before, Banshee was finding this wanton killing spree most therapeutic.
Another salvo from the Separatist guns slammed into the Republic defenses, tearing apart men and machines. Kit and Mace felt a wave through the Force as a dozen lives were snuffed out simultaneously, knowing their men were under siege with little ways of resisting this wall of mechanized violence the CIS was unleashing upon them. Their blades collided with Reaper time and again, striking an armor guard or even a portion of the bodysuit underneath, only for the super-soldier to shrug them off and keep fighting. The Jedi also sported frayed robes, sporadic cuts marking Mace's dark skin where Reaper's machete had come perilously close.
"General! Our forward lines are being overrun and our rear defenses are getting blown to pieces, we can't take much more of this!" Commander Dusk shouted through Mace's wrist comm.
"Order the men to fall back, out of their range. We'll regroup and try again at a different point." The Jedi ordered while fending off Reaper's machete singlehandedly.
"Leaving so soon?" The super-soldier sneered. "Sorry, Jedi, but there's no way out for any of you."
"That's what you think." Kit remarked, using the Force to generate a brief yet blinding flash of light that overloaded Reaper's optics. They managed to polarize just in time and his eye HUD recalibrated to accommodate the glare, but the burst was all the Jedi needed to leave Reaper behind and vacate back to their men, cutting down several battle droids as they finally defended their troops. As his vision cleared, Reaper put out a call.
"Banshee, rally on my position. All troops, cut down any stragglers." He ordered. Watching as B1 and B2 droids charged after fleeing Clones, several Destroyer models gave chase as well, their heavy twin-cannons mowing down dozens of attempting escapees.
"Their defenses are weak. Flimsy and shoddy. We can crush them now if we give chase." The Umbaran commented as she joined him. Then she noticed the retreating Mace and Kit. "You did not destroy the Jedi."
"No. There was no need." Reaper responded.
"Killing them would've crushed the Republic's morale and brought about their end all the swifter." Banshee argued.
"They survived while countless numbers of their men died. If that does not wear on their souls, then they are truly the heartless bastards we claim they are." Reaper countered. "They live on knowing they failed their men. Their minds will be weakened by this. They may be susceptible to further disappointment and failure, opening them up well and truly for a killing blow."
"Jedi do not care about who dies around them, be it their own or ours." Banshee bitterly snapped. "They only care about succeeding and surviving the mission. We have to be as rigid as they are in combat."
"If we become like the Jedi, we lose the point of this war." Reaper stated, quite loudly as he drowned out Banshee's final point. "And yet there is one lesson you could stand to learn from them."
"What?" Banshee curtly asked.
"You let emotion cloud your ability to think tactically." Reaper said, causing her to stifle a growl. "Order the droids to regroup and have the tanks move up accordingly. We will use this strategy again and batter their defenses until they crack." He ordered. Banshee paused, her optics lingering on Reaper for a moment before she turned around to make the call...
Once she'd unclenched her fists, that is.
The second attack wave proceeded differently from the first. Instead of Reaper taking point, he allowed the Separatist tanks to shell the Republic defenses while he and Banshee led the droids under the cover of the bombardment. As the smoke cleared and the Clones poked their heads up, the battle droids unleashed an onslaught of blaster fire as they attacked the Republic lines.
Having barely had any time to recover from the bombardment, their efforts to repulse the invading droids was lacking.
Reaper once again attacked the Jedi as Banshee led the droids against the Clones. It seemed to be routine and the battle plan was running like clockwork. Reaper's machete sparked off of Kit's green saber blade as his arm blade blocked and parried Mace's rapidly slashing violet saber. Driving a side-kick into Kit's abdomen, sending him stumbling, Reaper focused fully on the senior Jedi high councilor with a cross-bladed slice. Threads snapped as the sleeves of Mace's robes were tattered by the razor sharp weapons, but the Jedi himself remained relatively unharmed. Focused, preoccupied, but unharmed.
Just as Reaper intended.
The super-soldier was a whirlwind of movement, his blades coming fast and furious as Mace back-stepped and blocked each hit. Reaper knew just how deadly this Jedi was, knowing he was responsible for dismantling over 5,000 droids alone. Ever since the Battle of Dantooine, Mace Windu's reputation was legendary... almost super-soldier worthy.
"You fight a battle you cannot win." Reaper growled. His twin blades came crashing down into the raised saber.
"Your overconfidence will be your downfall." Mace promised, his expression stern and unflinching even as Reaper bore down on him.
"You Jedi always assume your opponents are overconfident. Did you not think I might be simply trustworthy in the logic of our plan?" The super-soldier huffed. Having recovered, the Nautolan Jedi attacked Reaper from behind, his emerald blade scoring a direct hit between a pair of plates. Reaper grunted as he felt heat within his flesh, sinking deeply past his bodysuit until it struck his bones. But unlike any other foe before, the blade did not pass clean through him, stopped by the impenetrable alloy laced within his skeleton. Taking the blow in stride, Reaper lunged ahead and plowed into Mace, allowing Kit's blade to slide from his body as he tumbled over the Jedi before leaping to his feet. Mace scrambled to his feet in record time, Kit quickly standing beside him.
"They sent us a tough one, didn't they?" Kit mused jokingly.
"Why would they send anything less?" Mace responded, his expression unflinchingly stern. Reaper cued his comms,
"Banshee, press the advance and crush their forces." He ordered.
"Their forces are in disarray, there is nothing left to stand against us!" His counterpart stated.
"See to it that is the case." Reaper said, killing his comms as he prepared to engage the Jedi again.
Away from the duel with the Jedi, Banshee was growing tired of Clones who died far too easily. She craved a challenge, an opportunity for great success that would enhance her name and reputation. As she slowed and watched the droids rush past her in pursuit of the sparse Clone defenders, she deemed the battle well in hand and her presence here unnecessary. But Reaper's bout with the Jedi, why did he have to take on two? There was room enough to share in the glory. Was he hogging it for himself?
Within seconds, Banshee had made up her mind.
His machete waved back and forth as he met, blocked and parried each of Windu's strikes while his arm blade clashed with Fisto's saber, his retinal HUD and optical scanners allowing Reaper to calculate each move as he fought two opponents at once. But it was in the midst of his combat, a piercing shriek fill the air and machine-produced ultrasonics rattled the area. Reaper's audio receptors quickly filtered out the noise while Mace and Kit recoiled as their senses were battered by the sonic assault. Banshee charged into their midst, lightsabers humming as she laid into Mace with her fierce war cry, the Jedi using the Force to recover his senses just in time to go on the defensive. Stunned by her presence, Reaper was aggravated by Banshee's willful disobedience.
"Banshee! What're you doing?!" He roared.
"You shouldn't hog all the glory for yourself, Reaper. I want a Jedi kill on my ledger too." Banshee remarked, still fighting hard against Mace. Reaper turned to ward off the renewed Kit's assault.
"That is not what this is about!" He snapped. "The droids need you to protect them. You're a heavy unit, an armored division and a mechanized company all rolled into one. You are needed on the field!"
"Why? The Clones aren't putting up a fight, the droids have pretty well won anyway." Banshee countered.
"Have they?" Reaper demanded. His question was well-founded, for the battle droid foot soldiers were now acting without the heavy support provided by a super-soldier. At first, this was no issue. But as the Republic Clones began to rally, the tide slowly began to turn.
Mace and Kit had been adamant about measuring their defensive options in an effort to drag out the Separatist assault and wear their forces thin. As the droids attempted to pierce the Republic's final lines, Commander Dusk broke out the big guns and ordered a pair of AT-TE's into the fight. The six-legged walkers were armed and ready, their anti-personnel turrets and mass driver cannons pummeling the droid onslaught and blowing the Separatist legions to scrap pieces. Their thunderous cannon rounds were soon heard by the dueling super-soldiers.
"What was that?!" Banshee cried. Reaper knew exactly what it was and growled,
"Their mechanized division." The super-soldier activated his comms and he warded off his Nautolan opponent with a heavy roundhouse kick. "Status report! Does anyone copy?"
"Commander! This is Sergeant Unit Seventeen, we're taking heavy losses!" A droid replied. "The Clones have deployed-eraagh!" He was cut off and the comm channel fell to static as another thunderous boom echoed in the distance. Reaper growled and turned back to the Jedi and Banshee, raising his arm just in time for Mace's violet blade to crash into his armored arm.
"Banshee! Get back there and stop those walkers!" He ordered, quickly landing a push kick that put some distance between him and Mace.
"But-"
"NOW!" He roared, jamming a finger back towards the battle.
"You want the walkers so badly? We can oblige that." Kit remarked, triggering the commlink strapped to his forearm. "Commander Dusk, we have engaged a pair of super-soldiers, send the walkers to our position." He radioed. The Clone Commander confirmed just as Kit raised his blade to block Banshee's incoming strike.
"Yes, bring all your little Republic toys. None of them can stop us!" She growled, still hellbent on establishing her prominence.
"Dammit Banshee I ordered you back to the battlefield!" Reaper snapped as he crossed his arms and tanked the flurry of strikes Mace unleashed upon him.
"You go if you're so determined! I'll stay here!" Banshee retorted, hacking into the Nautolan's defenses with heavy back and forth slashes. "Today's the day a Jedi dies by my hand." Kit stood steadfast and strong against her ruthless assault, and even smiled a little in a silent goad.
Their battle lasted for only a little longer before an AT-TE crashed through the forest and aligned the super-soldiers within its sights. The Clone driver blasted away with the available anti-personnel cannons, riddling Reaper with concentrated blaster fire as the mighty top-mounted mass driver cannon took aim at Banshee. So caught up in her battle with Kit Fisto, the Umbaran failed to notice the cannon aligned with her until a thunderous round struck her side and propelled her into the woods. Feeling the heat and lingering concussive force from the mass driver round, Banshee tumbled and flailed like a ragdoll until she skidded to a halt in the woods, leaving an impressive dirt trench behind.
She picked herself up slowly, dusting herself off and groaning a little as she flexed her cracked ribs. Her natural healing factor would kick in straight away, but for the moment she was feeling rather sore. Glancing back at the fight, she saw Reaper deploy his Dragonsbreath cannon and fire off a scorching beam that cut through the mass driver cannon and melt the upper hull of the Republic walker. His diverted attention, however, allowed the two Jedi to get the drop on him with Kit grasping Reaper with the Force and tossing him towards Banshee and Mace hammering him home with an uprooted tree he used like a thrown spear. Splinters of wood shattered against his armor, but proved to be enough intertidal to send him tumbling through the forest. Sliding to a halt and regaining his footing, the super-soldier determined that this phase of the engagement had been decidedly lost.
"All units, retreat! Disengage and fall back!" He ordered the remaining droids via his comms. Banshee was already by his side and together they booked it into the woods, taking off at a speed that the walker certainly couldn't match and the Jedi were in no mood to.
His saber shutting down, Kit turned to Mace with a satisfied look in his ebony eyes. "Well, that went better than expected." He mused.
"Let's not celebrate just yet." Mace cautioned. "They won a round, we won a round... it's only a matter of time before they come back to uneven the score." Kit nodded in silent agreement and the two Jedi began to plan their next line of defenses.
The din of battle had faded completely by the time Reaper and Banshee slowed to a halt. The Umbaran dusted off her breastplate and used her optical sensory apparatus to sweep the area.
"No pursuers. We've lost them." She mused. "I think we should go after their walkers first, you can take one and I'll take the other." A plan was already forming in her mind, a mental map of the AT-TE's mechanized schematics taking shape.
"I will be taking down both of them." Reaper curtly countered. Banshee paused, wondering what was going through his head.
"Then what will I be doing?"
"Returning to Count Dooku for disciplinary measures." His words took her by surprise, an emotion furthered when his hand grabbed her viciously by the arm and pulled her in close. "If glory and a place in history is all that you are concerned with, then you are a pathetic fool!" He growled sharply. "Did you even think before you engaged the Jedi?"
"I did!" She snapped. "You were just toying with them! Wasting an opportunity to strike fear into their armies! I was going to kill them, that way the Clones would know of our superiority."
"I was 'toying' with them to keep their focus off of you and the droids!" Reaper shouted. "I gave you opportunity and you squandered it thanks to your own foolish pride and reckless sense of ambition!" Banshee tried to leave his grip, but his hand tightened harshly. "We had every opportunity to destroy a smaller force with ease, but now have been turned into a mockery thanks to your stupidity!" Reaper continued, jabbing a finger towards her optics.
"Then why didn't you lead the droids?" She questioned. "Why should the Jedi always be your concern?!"
"I wanted you on the frontlines because we could not fit tanks through the trees and your sonic emitter was the best anti-personnel weapon we have. We needed you, and now you've damned this entire endeavor!" With that final word of condemnation, Reaper shoved her from his grip. "Now you will return to Count Dooku and I will report your failure. Go. I do not need you here." He ordered. "And in your current state of mind, you are of no use to anyone." He added sharply.
Banshee stood still for a moment, contemplating everything going down. In her mind, if Reaper had allowed for some flexibility in his plan, things might not have soured so quickly. She was just trying to do her part to aid in the annihilation of the Republic, he was the one slow to grasp that reality and even slower to accept the nature of her plans. She was advocating for quick, decisive action that would propel the Confederacy to its proper place in galactic supremacy. Reaper's thought-process was... outdated at best.
He was slowing them all down. If he had merely listened to her, let her enact her plan, he could've seen the wisdom and potential she was ready and willing to execute. But instead, he got all twisted out of sorts because she did not meet his standards.
Her hands balled into fists and she took a brief moment to consider her 'superior' again. He may have been manufactured before her and been brought in to train her, but she had eclipsed him now, just like she had her predecessor Wraith. Sure, they needed the first super-soldier for what he symbolized. But she was the future... and the past was getting in the way.
"You should've died with your family." She growled under her breath. Her barbed statement was just loud enough that Reaper heard it and stopped in his tracks. He slowly turned and while his helmet could not convey emotion, Banshee could practically see the livid emotion in his visor.
"What did you just say...?" He asked in furious disbelief. Banshee raised her head and made sure her optics and his were aligned.
"The day your family died... you should've too. You're as weak as your wife and daughter!" She angrily snapped. Taking a measure of smug pride in how he simmered, the last thing Banshee was expecting was for Reaper to cross the distance between them in a single stride and land an almighty right cross that snapped her head to the side and knocked her to the ground.
Which is exactly what he did.
Flat on her back, Banshee had no time to recover before Reaper was upon her, his hands around her throat.
"Don't you EVER speak of my family again!" He roared, viciously shaking her as rage overcame him. "Do you understand?! NEVER!" Banshee choked and gasped beneath him, struggling to keep her focus as her airway was constricted.
"I... u-under... stand..." she managed to sputter, slowly lifting her arm, "just... fine!" Her lightsabers blazed to life and struck his helmet, one blade carving through his visor while the other sparked and struck against the protective metal. The blow was not a crippling one, but it was enough to cause Reaper to recoil and release his hold on Banshee, who then primed her Shriekburst emitter and blasted him with a powerful charge of solid sonic energy. It was enough to knock Reaper off of her and land him flat on his own back and Banshee took the opportunity to breathe deeply before performing a kip-up, ready to continue.
His systems recalibrating, Reaper pushed himself to his feet and blinked his eyes as he realized his helmet no longer had a visor to peer through. Nevertheless, his cybernetic body compensated by engaging his optical-neural interface at its full capacity, his grey eyes gaining a subtle red glow as they did. He studied the battle-ready Banshee for a moment, recognizing she was primed and expectant of a fight. Several questions filled this mind; why would she attack him? What was driving her to do this? Was she insane? It occurred to him that mere words might not be enough to deter her behavior and that her festering unteachability had sprouted from him not being direct enough.
Deploying his arm blade, Reaper chose to amend that shortcoming. He would enact discipline himself.
"You... are in my way." Banshee growled.
"And you... are a detriment to everyone." Reaper chastised in retort. Banshee needed no further invitation as she lunged for him, loosing one of her notorious war shrieks as she did.
Her sabers came crashing into his blade, Banshee's raw physical strength coming to bear against Reaper's cybernetic and partly mechanized body. She pressed hard, but he needed only a short step forward to gain the necessary momentum to swing his arm out and throw Banshee off of him. The Umbaran was going to learn the hard way that he was far stronger than her, of that Reaper was determined to make certain.
Despite getting thrown off, Banshee maintained her ground and held firm as Reaper went on the offensive, hacking into her sabers as he brought his full strength against her... and it showed. Banshee warded off his blows, but just barely. Reaper had no intention of spilling blood, but he was determined to shatter Banshee's defense and give her plenty of bruises to remember. That moment came when he managed to plunge his arm blade into the circuits and electronics powering her saber gauntlet, shorting out the twin blue blades. With one weapon lost, Reaper pounced before Banshee could react.
Tackling her and throwing her to the ground, Reaper's blade disappeared into his gauntlet as he began to land blows all across Banshee's armored body. The average being was incapable of harming her while the plating was intact. Reaper's blows, on the other hand, were felt in full despite her plating. Her body rattled by continuous blows, Banshee had a mere few seconds to think of a plan. Seconds was all she needed, however, and snapped up her other arm to unleash the power of her sonic emitter. The stream of ultrasonics was enough to force Reaper to pause as he took a moment to regain his senses. His neural circuitry recalibrated once more, sealing off his audio receptors and allowing him to weather most of the sonic barrage. His face slowly turned back towards her, the metal of his helmet absorbing most of the physical damage.
Taking note of this, a flick of her wrist modified the sonic output, intensifying her ultrasonics tenfold as she enhanced the frequency. The metal plating around Reaper's face began to rattle and shake, vibrating intensely, until his entire faceplate was torn off by the waves of battering sound. The concussive force was also enough to knock Reaper off and onto the ground, buying Banshee enough time to reach for her belt and prime a thermal detonator, rigging the device to be armed at its lowest countdown setting.
Just as Reaper was straightening up, Banshee used a burst of ultrasonics to propel the detonator through the air, where it exploded in Reaper's face.
The burst of flame consumed his head entirely and pitched Reaper back to the ground. Banshee, meanwhile, picked herself off and dusted off her armor, renewing her senses as the Umbaran powered off the Shriekburst emitter and set to work fixing her lightsaber gauntlet. Through her optics, she studied the wound cased by Reaper's blade, deducing that he had caused enough damage to shut it down but not enough to ruin it.
"I'm just... doing what I must." Banshee said aloud as she went to work. "You weren't listening to me, Reaper. You weren't hearing me!" She muttered, popping wires back into place and realigning circuitry. "We can't play games with the Republic. We have to be deliberate, determined. We show them their actions of consequences. Overwhelming ones." She twitched her hand and received a burst of sparks in response. "We are evolution. We are the future. The Republic is the past, desolate and obsolete. It belongs in the ground and we'll put it there." She mused, still working. A final microchip was slotted back into place, hooked into a databank of wires and circuits that glowed blue as power was restored. "And by 'we', I mean 'I' and the others. You're outdated, Reaper. So is Wraith." Satisfied with her work, Banshee looked upon Reaper's shuddering body. "Wraith will join us again... if he won't, he'll be buried along with the past... just like you." Her words seemed to spur her fellow super-soldier into action, for Reaper abruptly sat up and tore off the charred and shattered remains of his helmet, revealing the damage to Banshee.
A good two thirds of his face was gone, the skin, or whatever it was, simply annihilated by the blast. In its place sat shiny metal, the alloy layer protecting his skull. The joints of his jaw still worked and the alignment of his teeth was perfect. He looked very much like a mostly-metal skull... terrifying to say the least.
Especially when he sprung towards her with a wide-eyed roar.
Banshee ignited her sabers just in time to plunge them through his shoulder and side, the blades remaining stuck as heat sizzled the bodysuit and melted the armor. Reaper examined the damage briefly through his all-red eyes before turning back to Banshee.
"That..." he growled, his jaw moving like a mechanized version of the organic original, "tickles."
Banshee went wide-eyed under her helmet as Reaper grabbed her in the iron grip of his free arm and crushed her left elbow. Her scream was far from warlike and was promptly silenced as Reaper gripped her by the helmet and then threw her into the ground. He forcefully removed his body from her sabers and then brought his boot down hard into her abs, so much so that she gasped for air and coughed in spite of her armor. Dropping down to bring himself closer, Reaper gripped her throat once again and drove his fist into her helmet. Over and over again.
The resounding clang of metal being struck echoed throughout the woods repeatedly, each punch delivered rattling Banshee's senses as she gasped for air. But Reaper refused to let up, beating her into submission until Banshee could not think straight enough to offer any resistance. When she lay still on the ground, not struggling or even flailing, only then did Reaper finally stop. He released her neck and stood, looking down upon her through eyes that conveyed near-murderous intent if not for the equal desire to hold himself back. She breathed deeply and heavily, her breastplate heaving in time with her inhales.
"Get up." He curtly ordered in a sharp, grating voice. "We're done here." Turning around, Reaper started walking, leaving Banshee behind. His thoughts turned to the battle, he wasn't in the best of shape but he could pull himself together enough to continue. He needed to focus and allowed his optical HUD to power down as he breathed in the air of the woods and let his thoughts shift and align with what needed to happen. With each step, Banshee's breathing grew quieter and quieter. He kept walking, thinking, determining the best course of action...
Reaper suddenly lurched forward as a pair of lightsaber blades exploded through his chest, the twin blue tips staying still for a moment as armor and fabric melted around them. They were withdrawn shortly after and Reaper fell to his knees as he gasped for breath. His optical HUD sprang to life and revealed that several connections to his heart had been severed and he had been forced to enter a failsafe mode until his vitals were re-established.
The failsafe mode would save his life, but it came at a temporary cost. His movement speed was halved, responses between his brain and limbs slowed to conserve functionality, he was having trouble keeping his body online. A total shutdown would fix him completely, but he couldn't do that when there was still a very real threat around.
Banshee rounded him, her blades still humming dangerously. Reaper managed to raise his head as she looked down on him, her optics denoting malice and contempt for him.
"I have been trying, from the beginning, to make moves that would favor the Confederacy. You, on the other hand, have been making moves to put me in your ideal place. Well, your ideals are holding us back, making us weak and vulnerable to subjection. We are supposed to be the tip of the spear, the thrust that pierces the Republic's heart... but you are a dull edge." She stated, retracting her blades and kneeling before him. "We must be strong. Only the strong and the forward can succeed. If the Separatists are to win, they must be purged all impurities that keep them from succeeding. You are in the way, Reaper. You must be purged." Reaper could barely believe what she was saying. She would kill him? Turn on her own teammate to further her own flawed notions?
"N-No..." He rasped. "Y-You can't!" Banshee said nothing but took something from her belt, reaching around him and then wedging something between the plates of his armor and within the wound she'd created. He let out a pained grunt as she pulled him close.
"Watch me." She hissed. "Greet your family for me." Rising without another word, she started to walk away, soon breaking into a run and clutching her broken arm as Reaper heard the beeping countdown timer.
"Banshee!" He growled after her, struggling to find his voice. "Banshee!" He shouted, his voice filled with a mix of rage and desperation as the beeping accelerated in tempo. "BANSHEE!" He roared, before his voice was silenced by the din of a deafening explosion from a thermal imploder. Banshee lost sight of him in the fiery shockwave that followed, but quickly assumed that there was nothing left of her fellow super-soldier. And even if there was, she doubted it would be effective or useful. Reaper have proven his greatest flaw when he turned his back on her, proven that he himself was the greatest flaw in the equation... a flaw she had just removed.
Her path forward was unhindered now.
She breathed deeply, the Umbaran wondering if her father could see her now and be proud of her for successfully advancing her status.
"My lord, Agent Reaper is... no longer with us."
"Explain."
"The Republic concealed an armored mechanized division and sprung them upon us at the last second. Reaper was injured, ordered me to flee and lead a counterattack. But before I left, I saw the Republic cripple him completely... and then destroy him with... armor-piercing salvos at close-range." Count Dooku's brow furrowed at the news.
"A most unfortunate turn of events. Reaper was one of our best assets." He mused.
"Yes sir." Banshee agreed. "It was an honor to have him among us and be in his company."
"Is there enough of our forces to resume the attack?" The Sith inquired.
"I have yet to perform a count, sir. We are still regrouping." Banshee answered amid the stillness of the forest.
"Proceed if the numbers are in your favor. If not, withdraw immediately and we will resume at another juncture. You are in command now, Agent Banshee." Dooku ordered.
"As you command, my lord." Banshee dutifully responded. The transmission ended and Banshee tucked her holocom back into her belt. His final words had sent a shiver of glee up and down her spine. She was in command, well and truly, now the premier super-soldier of the Separatist Alliance. Banshee knew she would have work to do after this engagement, plenty of planning and plotting, organizing a true event horizon which would mark the return of The Wraith to Confederate service.
Even if he was just a symbol.
She had come this far of her own accord, hard work and cleverness advancing her past her colleagues and past her superiors to this moment. She had proven herself, not just a super-soldier, but also as an Umbaran, as a survivor of the Republic's conquest. For from the ashes of her world she emerged a phoenix, primed and ready to begin a burn of her own kind. And those who could not withstand her fire, well, they would get what they deserved...
After all, the strong survived... and the weak perished.