Will of The Force (Star Wars / Worm)

Francis Krouse broke the window and dragged himself into the stolen car while throwing his Trickster top hat to the passenger side. The movement caused the burning sensation on his leg to intensify beyond words, making him almost forget the broken rib and swollen eye he’d gotten courtesy of Shadow Stalker’s non-lethal bolts.

Squeezing the steering wheel with all his strength, he laid his forehead against it for a few seconds and forced himself to take deep breaths. It barely helped, but at least he could concentrate again.

In truth, he wanted nothing more than to curl up into a fetal position, but he knew he didn’t have the time, any hesitation could cost his freedom and, worse, Noelle’s life.

Hopefully, he had managed to kill the brat like his employer wanted but, even then, there was still a strong chance Coil would eliminate the Travelers, perhaps planning on getting rid of loose ends now that his benevolent mask had failed.

Sticking the tinkertech key into the keyhole, his heart skipped a beat as it didn’t work… fuck, had it started failing already? But he’d had one of Accord’s Tinker’s do maintenance before Boston!

“Shit, shit, shit!” Trickster growled, Susanoo should be coming back soon! Coil said he’d delay or even kill the man, but Trickster had seen that fight against Lung… He really doubted the Villain had anything capable of stopping that monster.

Closing his eyes, he turned the key again… and the Buick started. Laying his head back, Trickster released a huge sigh of relief, then the damn kid’s face flashed in his mind, the fear and pain in her eyes… the large hole he had burned through her belly…

As a villain for hire, he had done a lot of questionable things, he had also gotten used to hiding Noelle’s bodies and even eliminating the resulting clones, but never one so young, it was…

Swallowing the bile rising on his mouth, Trickster stepped on the gas with his good foot, tires screaming as he tore through the street. He’d have time to face what he had done later, when things weren’t so dire and the kid’s scary as all hell adoptive father wasn’t coming.

Sparing a second to stare back through the rear view mirror, Trickster hoped the others had made it. He had turned off his comms after giving the order to retreat —there was always a chance Dragon could track their signal, particularly after what he had done— but he was getting a bad feeling about things and he’d need the entire team to get out of this one.

Finally, he turned into a small empty alley and slowed down, making sure there was nobody looking before slowly taking off his broken mask and top hat, turning into just another driver amongst many.

He’d have to ditch the car too, but not before he was closer to the base… and wasn’t that a big giveaway? How the hell did the others fall for Coil’s sympathetic bullshit when the man had a damn underground lair like a cartoon villain?

Taking a few deep breaths and doing his best not to think about the pain, he checked his swollen eye in the mirror and adjusted his wounded knee, grunting as the burnt flesh moved.

“FUCK!” He punched the steering wheel, but finally gathered himself enough to start driving again.

He supposed it was desperation; the reason they’d accepted Coil’s offer, that is. They had been running for so long they weren’t thinking straight anymore… if it wasn’t that damn fake angel warping their thoughts.

Oh, the others thought they had escaped intact, but Trickster wasn’t so sure, always keeping his eye on them for any signs of insanity, it’s why he had given Cody to Accord so easily.

Going by the name Perdition, the idiot had always been competitive and, after they got to this God forsaken Earth, was constantly trying to snatch the team away from him. Unfortunately for the wannabe, Cody’s skills and even his power didn’t match his ambition.

So, the idiot had lashed out in frustration, and probably influenced by the Winged Bitch, almost causing Accord to kill them all. Still, the fact that the others had agreed with giving Perdition to Accord was a sign the team was finally breaking down.

Trickster had done everything in his power to keep them united, even played the asshole as a distraction but, honestly, he was surprised they had lasted this long. Hopefully, he could keep them together for another day, just until they got out of the damn city.

Five minutes later, he limped out of the car and sneaked into the base, using his cane for support and doing his best not to step with the now useless leg. Soon after, one of the mercenaries arrived, helping him into a wheelchair.

“Have the others arrived?”

“Yes, they’re in the infirmary,” the mercenary answered absentmindedly. “The nurse is looking over them, but I don’t think he’s gonna be able to do much.”

“Yeah… I didn’t think he could.”

Finally, he was pushed into the white room, seeing Luke pacing from side to side, still wearing his Ballistic costume. Marissa, however, had taken off her Sundancer helmet and seemed to have been crying while the nurse looked her over.

“Where’s Jess?” he immediately asked, not seeing their wheelchair bound companion anywhere.

“Fuck, Krouse, she didn’t make it!” Luke barked, rushing at him and only stopping when he noticed the wounds. “What the fuck were you thinking? We were supposed to rescue the kid, not kill her!”

“Don’t be stupid, we were never ‘rescuing’ anybody,” Trickster dismissed him with a snort.

“What?” Marissa asked, looking up for the first time since he entered the room.

Trickster let the nurse help him out of the chair and into a bed, starting to look over his leg. “For fuck’s sake, Coil’s a proper bad-guy villain. One that’s friends with Accord. Did you really think he was ever in it to ‘rescue’ a poor parahuman? God, you actually believed him, didn’t you?”

“I…” Marissa’s words failed her for a second, but eventually she wiped her tears. “Damn it, Krouse, I didn’t agree to kidnapping children! Did he pay you to kill her too?”

“In a way,” Trickster shrugged, pretending it wasn’t going to haunt him. “He’d prefer if we had gotten her, but dead was acceptable too, probably did the kid a favor if I’m honest.”

Luke turned around, grabbing a bottle and hurling it with all the speed his power gave him, the glass exploding against the reinforced wall with the strength of a bullet. “Why the fuck didn’t you say anything? We’d never have accepted if we knew.”

“And then what? Stay with Accord until Noelle has another episode and he kills us all? I thought this way we’d at least have a chance. Now, what happened?”

The nurse applied some anesthetic into Trickster’s leg, then started cleaning the wound with a clear substance, causing waves of pain to go through his body, but he just gritted his teeth, doing his best not to move.

“I hate you,” Marissa said in a small voice, almost a whisper. “I really do, and I think I’m starting to hate Noelle too.”

‘And you only found that out now?’ Trickster thought but didn’t say. He had known the others had started to hate Noelle for a long time now —too many crimes, too many questionable decisions… too many of her episodes, her mutation driving her crazy— it’s why he had given up on being the good guy and started acting like even more of an asshole than he really was.

As long as they were bonding over their shared dislike of him, they wouldn’t focus on Noelle, and the bond would also serve to keep everyone together. They couldn’t afford to separate.

Trickster didn’t exactly like being a villain, and Noelle would have much, MUCH rather been a hero, but that choice had been taken out of their hands. Perhaps if they weren’t Simurgh victims, they’d have long since disbanded and he could have gone to the Protectorate for help.

Unfortunately, they had all seen what the Protectorate did to Madison when the winged bitch attacked the city. They had all seen how far ‘heroes’ like Alexandria were willing to go. No, going to them was a death sentence.

“Dragon intercepted us,” Luke said, hands tightening into fists. “She broke the getaway car, causing us to separate. I tried grabbing Jess, but there wasn’t time and she couldn’t exactly escape by herself.”

“Fuck,” Francis cursed, thinking hard. “Look, she hasn’t done anything worth going to the Birdcage, even the kid was my fault, we’ll have to let things cool down a little before trying to break her out.”

“No,” Marissa said. “No, you can stay with Noelle, but I’ve had enough. Krouse, we’re done. I’m getting Jess out of there and leaving. God, I never wanted to be a cape.”

“Come on, Marissa. It’s not like the PRT is gonna torture her! She can wait a month or so, then we break her out together, we need to stay united.”

“Funny, that’s not what you said about Cody,” Luke said, barely containing anger in his voice.

“We all agreed Cody had to go!”

“There,” the nurse said, stepping away from Krouse’s body. “Your ribs aren’t actually broken, just bruised, so that should be fine, the problem is the leg. I did my best, but you’re gonna need to talk with Coil or find yourself a doctor, and I’m pretty sure you’re gonna lose it unless you get a cape healer.”

His leg was immobilized with a splint and the wound was wrapped in bandage, the nurse had also applied some cream on his chest and eye that was already causing the swelling to go down.

Trickster just waved the man away, waiting until he was out of the room to speak again.

“Fine, I’ll help with rescuing Jess,” he finally sighed and continued with an angry whisper. “But we have to get out of here first, I’m pretty sure Coil is gonna either kill us or turn us in himself… and there’s Susanoo, the guy gives me shivers. I really don’t want to be in this city any longer than absolutely needed.”

“Fuck you, Krouse, you’re just gonna try and talk us out of it, I don’t want your help.”

“Well, unless you’re willing to burn down the entire PRT, you’re gonna NEED my help to get Jess out.”

Marissa almost replied, but she knew he was right, she had a tremendous amount of power at her fingertips, but creating a Sun wasn’t exactly suited for rescuing people.

“And what about Noelle?” Luke interfered, not believing for a second Trickster would abandon her.

“One of Circus’ surviving clones stayed in the base,” he revealed his plan. “You can go get our things while Marissa helps me get to him, I’m pretty sure I can convince the guy to get Noelle out of that room with his power.”

“Didn’t we leave him behind because the girl wouldn’t survive getting stuffed into his pocket dimension?” Marissa asked.

“Noelle isn’t a 12 years old,” Trickster almost screamed, trying his best to convince himself. “... I think she can survive it, but we don’t have a fucking choice, do we?

“Fine, but after this we’re going our own way,” Marissa said, but didn’t move to help him get into the wheelchair. “You crossed a line Krouse, enough is enough.”

Carefully sitting into the chair, he adjusted his immobilized leg and lowered his head, letting his exhaustion and disgust show. “All we’ve done is cross lines since getting to this damn dimension, what’s one more?”

“I’ll meet you guys at the back exit,” Luke said, keeping the door open as Marissa pushed the wheelchair out.

Francis let the silence stretch between them, there was really nothing else to say, the Travelers were done and they all knew it, but he refused to lose Noelle… no matter how low he had to go.

He had to protect her, it was his job

Finally, they entered the clone’s room. The thing was just wrong, with long limbs that were too thin and wearing badly applied clown makeup. It had just been sitting in the dark until they arrived, but lifted its head as they entered, staring at Trickster without saying a word.

Carefully, Trickster got up from the chair, using his cane for support, he didn’t waste any time. “How’d you like to get Noelle out of here? Perhaps even get your own freedom?”

“I’m listening,” the clone immediately focused on him with unnerving eyes.

Noelle’s clones were… difficult to deal with, they all loved her and hated the originals with a passion, but that was the extent of what they had in common, from twisted bodies to twisted personalities and even powers, there was just no way of knowing what he was dealing with.

“Coil has her entire room covered with bombs. I know he set it to explode if we try opening the door fully without his agreement, can you use your power to get her out?”

“It will hurt her,” the clone said, making an angry face. “Twisting her muscles and breaking bones.”

“Well, it’s that or we risk detonating the bombs. Noelle has a Brute rating, can she survive?”

“... Yes, but it’ll have to be quick, the longer she stays inside the more damage it will do.”

Fuck, he had hoped they could bring her out of the city that way, the previous clone could have done it, letting her calm down without anyone close, but the kid had killed that one.

“Krouse…” Marissa said, fear in her voice. “We can’t just let her out, not if she’s hurt. Maybe Coil won’t kill her?”

Trickster knew she was right, letting Noelle out while she’s hurt, particularly without Jess there with her disposable minions to help subdue her, was a bad idea, she was prone to lose control. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a choice.

He closed his eyes, mind running through all his options, trying to come up with a plan, any plan where they could still leave the city without causing a scene. Maybe it was the damn Winged Bitch finally getting him, but he couldn’t think of one.

They wouldn’t get out quietly and any noise would probably attract the PRT or, worse, Susanoo… Only Noelle and Marissa had the strength to face someone like him, and only if they weren’t holding back…

It was time to stop being careful.

Squeezing his cane, he whipped around on his good leg, hitting Marissa on the side of the head with as much force as he could manage. She only had time to release a surprised yelp before crumbling to the floor, unconscious.

The clone was on him faster than Francis could react, a knife appearing on its hand and pressing against his throat, drawing some blood.

“She wouldn’t agree,” he hastily explained. “Couldn’t stand the guilt of letting Noelle free, not anymore… A pity, but we’ll need the firepower if we want to get out.”

“I… see,” the clone said, dagger disappearing from its hand as it stepped away.

Cold sweat running down his face, Trickster collapsed against his wheelchair. “Come on, we need to be fast, before Luke finds out.”

Watching the clone putting Marissa over his shoulder, Trickster knew Noelle would never forgive him, not after she regained her senses, but he’d do anything for her, anything.

Directing his chair alone was hard and exhausting, leaving his arms aching from the effort. More than a few times he glanced at Marissa’s unconscious face, regretting what he was about to do, but he knew he didn’t have any choice.

With a deafening ‘crack’ the entire base shook, Trickster's wheelchair nearly tilting over, Using a metal wall for support, he steadied himself and traded a look with the clone, then the facility shook again.

All around him, an alarm started going off, the irritating siren blaring through the hallways even as red lights started blinking.

“No… not again,” Trickster cried out with growing dread, his heart accelerating, hands shaking.

The entire building seemed to be picked up, rising towards the surface as if a giant was digging it out without a care for who was inside, the metallic walls bent, cracks forming on the floor and dust falling from the ceiling.

Almost frozen in fear, Trickster realized he only knew a single creature powerful enough to do it. It couldn’t be, the Winged Bitch couldn’t be here!

“Go, get Noelle out!” he shouted, using his cane to get up from the wheelchair. With the way the floor was damaged, it would only hinder him.

The Clone gave him a look, his face turning into a large smile as it nodded before adjusting Melissa’s body and starting to run.

The base shook, throwing Trickster against a wall, his wounded knee hitting the metal. Screaming in pain, he nearly collapsed on the ground, but managed to steady himself and started to limp as fast as he could towards Noelle’s room/cell.

With a monstrous groan, the base twisted almost completely sideways, a part of the ceiling collapsing and blocking his path. “Fuck! FUCK!”

Taking a few breaths, he pushed the panic down and turned around. There were other paths out of the base… but first, he had to know, he had to get to the monitoring room and see what was out there.

All around the hallway, the lights started blinking, some going out completely as the facility continued to be lifted, dirt and gravel getting through the cracks and starting to accumulate around him.

Then everything finally stopped, leaving Trickster almost completely in the dark. Swallowing hard, he picked up speed, doing his best not to use his wounded leg. Finally, he got to his destination, the door opening to reveal the control room for the base, several monitors spread around all four walls.

A piece of the ceiling seemed to have collapsed over a corner, several cabinets having fallen through the hole, spreading files everywhere, one mercenary was buried under the rubble, blood spreading, but the second guard was missing, probably having ran away when everything started.

Most of the monitors had been damaged, but a few were still working, one of which was pointed to the main entrance, the door exposed to the actual street.

Trickster expected to see the damn Simurgh, maybe the PRT, even Coil… instead, Susanoo stood in front of the door, completely unmasked, his cold, yellow eyes seemed to stare directly at him through the cameras.

Then the cape lifted a hand, the movement almost gentle, and the half a meter thick metal door bent inwards as if hit by a giant hammer, metal screaming as it was pried apart with contemptuous ease.

The thick metal walls were peeled apart like paper until they broke off from the walls and collapsed to the ground, leaving the room unnaturally calm. There were no mercenaries guarding the front entrance.

For a second, Trickster felt relieved it wasn’t the Simurgh, then he looked at the cape’s cold, uncaring eyes and almost wished it was.

“Oh fuck,“ he had killed the girl, he had killed the cape’s adopted child…

Almost frozen, he watched as the cape marched through the opening, red sword glowing and helping illuminate the first room. Holes opened in the walls, two heavy machine guns starting to rain down bullets.

Susanoo didn’t seem to care, the bullets stopping in front of him as if frozen, then he lifted a hand, a second later, both sides of the destroyed door rose in the air.

Susanoo gestured forward, with a crack of air, the metal flew, breaking the sound barrier and causing his cape to fly back before piercing halfway through the opposite wall, utterly annihilating both heavy weapons.

Without a pause, Susanoo ripped the second security door and truly opened up the base.

Closing his eyes, Trickster was back in Madison, getting ripped out of his own dimension and watching honest to god superheroes fighting a winged angel, cars and buildings getting ripped out of the ground and thrown about like projectiles.

This was what Coil forced them to fight? Now he understood why the Villain never let the Travelers attack him, they didn’t stand a chance.

Shaking his head, Trickster looked down, noticing his hands were shaking, an almost supernatural fear filling his heart with the certainty that he was dead.

With effort, he squeezed his hands together, forcing them to stop as he glared at the cape through the camera. Well, if he was gonna die, at least he’d buy Noelle some time.

With a swift movement, Susanoo seemed to turn back to the camera, eyes narrowing as he spoke and, while he couldn’t hear the words, Trickster understood them easily enough.

“Found you”

On reflex, Trickster threw himself away from the monitor, immediately realizing his mistake when the movement put weight on his wounded leg, a spike of pain running through his spine.

He tried to suck in a breath, but nothing came, the air refusing to move, then he felt the pressure, as if an iron grip was wrapped around his neck.

Trickster’s eyes went wide, heart nearly exploding on his chest. On instinct, he tried to pry the fingers from his throat, but there was nothing there and it only made things worse. The world itself seemed to be angry, Susanoo’s rage filling the room and smothering him like an ant.

The grip tightened, not only cutting off his air but starting to crush his neck with irresistible force. He couldn’t even scream!

Slowly, Francis Krouse rose in the air, terror filling his mind, feet flailing desperately as they left the floor, then his limbs started slowly bending in the wrong direction, every joint deliberately stressed to its painful limit.

Panicked, unable to move or even draw breath, Trickster felt the edges of his vision going white as he started to lose consciousness. He almost welcomed it.

Then everything stopped and he collapsed on the ground like a puppet with its strings cut, the impact sending another wave of torment through his wounded body. Gasping desperately, he curled up into a fetal position and sucked in a few desperate breaths.

Despite everything, as he slowly started to regain his focus, he couldn’t feel any relief. Trickster doubted Susanoo had stopped because he ran out of power, and it was definitely not out of a desire to spare him.

No, from the all consuming wrath Trickster could still feel in the air, there was only one reason the cape had stopped, Susanoo had not wanted to end it so easily.

What had they done…