S C O R P I O N



The next few days blurred by me in emptiness.

The Empress was gone and my bed was empty in the following nights I had transferred out of the med bay. True to my word I gave Makayla the space to breathe she wanted. But all it made me do was think more of her.

She had kissed me the day after. But now it felt like it was just an assurance so that I would heal properly–so that when I wasn't on that bed dying...

I gripped my hair and ripped my t-shirt high to analyse the nano seal. The skin was still an angry red but it was sealed shut. A wound no larger than my thumb nail. She should have shot me twice. At least then I'd feel like she had given some of the pain in return.

I pulled the material back down and stared at my wrist holo.

There was nothing from her. Only the Division's constant communication. At least Proximo could worry about that now. I didn't have the mental strength let alone the physical required.

I wanted to know where she was. Because it sure as hell wasn't here lately–no where we usually were. It drove me insane not knowing but pressing her for it would make things infinitely worse. I sighed heavily and kicked a foot against the glass table trying to think of something. Any way to get covert information on a woman I should know everything about–

My holo flashed and it was at my lips before I could blink.

"Scor–well... That's not right now is it?" Proximo drawled.

I glared ahead and relaxed back into the chair, wincing at the wound that protested.

"Enjoying my title are you..." I muttered, running a hand through my hair.

"Oh yes, very much. We just rearranged one of Xafra's weapon storage facilities."

I was barely interested at all by it. But nodded all the same and watched the ceiling instead of the new Division leader.

"You need to take your mind off her." He stated, gaining my attention again.

I looked at him flatly.

"Do you know where she is?"

He gave nothing away. Which meant yes.

"She needs this time to heal just as much as you–"

"Why do you think I'm sat here losing my mind–Proximo I won't go after her I just need to know." I growled.

"Yes, you will. And she does not want to be found." He answered simply. "Don't worry, I sent someone with her." He added with a smirk.

I watched his face then glared more.

"Why is it that Artella always gets so much of her time lately?"

"Because he is the only one I trust outside of myself to keep her safe." He answered simply, pulling up his gun a moment to clean the barrel. I didn't fail to notice the fresh crimson.

"Is she at the Crypt?" I demanded finally.

He continued cleaning his gun. Which meant yes.

"Is she fighting again?" I asked slowly.

He snapped the hammer back and met my gaze with all the calm in the world. It made me want to suffocate him through the hologram.

"I haven't said anything." He uttered, then he scanned my face with a darker smile. "She's using your name again."

I blew out a heavy breath and groaned.

"Why worry about me so much when she goes off and does this?" I demanded.

Proximo shrugged large shoulders and set his gun down.

"I think she made Artella a lot of credits–"

"If you don't shut the hell up I'm taking that title back and leaving you on the Empress's doorstep.

He let out a hearty chuckle and ran his eyes over me.

"Strong words for the one barely able to stand."

"I can do plenty more than that." I muttered. But my mind wasn't on our back and forth anymore. It was on the where abouts and status of one Makayla Xavier. Bare knuckle fighting the most poorly trained and vicious scum of the Underworld. Every second had my pulse stopping and restarting at the thought of one miss timed punch–one illegal weapon concealed.

"You're right I can't fucking sit here." I stated, getting to my feet.

"I told you she does not want to be found." He retorted simply.

But it wasn't simple. We weren't simple. None of us were.

"Then maybe I won't go as myself." I added unconcerned. Proximo almost growled in response. It made me smirk.

"Excellent idea. Attend one of the roughest areas of the city without back up–without the Scorpion title and shot through the abdomen."

"Exactly." I nodded. "Simple."

"You're god damn insane. And reckless."

I rolled my eyes and realised he was smiling.

"–Of course that's exactly why I will join you."

I paused my pulling on my boots and regarded him from my wrist.

"You will?"

"Artella is there. He has never seen the faceless maker's technology. I think I'd like to show him." He murmured darkly.

I snorted and pulled a hood carefully over my head. "Do what you want. I just can't sit in this room without her for another damn second."

"I'll pick you up from the landing bay. Don't keep Scorpion waiting..." He added with irony shining in his eyes.

"Get fucked Proximo." I answered, ending the comm.

I took painfully longer than usual to equip the rest of myself with clothing and armour. I didn't bother with weapons outside of my fusion pistols. I wouldn't have the power to drive a blade anywhere–let alone a body. I shook off the thought and headed for the lift.

But I started typing into my comm requesting Crypt security feeds regardless.

My blood beat around my head as I waited for the feeds. Then thick crowds flashed in front of me. I swiped through them, half aware of guards entering the lift around me. I dragged my black hood lower and watched intently. The fighting pit was obscured but the noise wasn't.

Putting on quite a damn show Xavier.

I grit my teeth and dodged guards to leave the lift. I walked the metal bridge towards it without my usual grace and took steady breaths. Proximo did not take long. A falcon jet dropped from the rooftop and I watched it as the thrusters send strands of my hair around my face.

He hopped out of the pilot's cockpit and gave me a dramatic bow.

His trench coat with the red sleeve looked more red...

"Good day?" I drawled sweetly.

"Oh, divine." He answered with a knowing look. "Care to get a new face?"

"Can't wait." I muttered, moving for the ramp.

"Careful it's a steep incline!" He called to my back. I flicked him the finger without satisfying him with a glare.

I strapped myself in and Proximo wasted no time punching the thrusters again. I drummed my fingers on my leg as the miles flew under us and we grew closer to the faceless maker. At least he or she wasn't far from the Crypt.

Proximo led the way as we walked down the familiar alleys and pressed the intercom to his door. It took a few moments before the metal slid open and the floor lit up beneath us.

"Upgrades." Proximo quipped unimpressed. His eyes didn't fail to notice the laser guided fusion guns trained on us from the ceiling either.

A dark skinned woman leant on a wall watching us.

"I'm just going to hope you are who we are looking for..." Proximo drawled, walking past the guns and offering a credit bar first.

The woman smirked and ran a hand over her braids–that may have been an imitation anyway. She touched her jaw and became the Emperor I killed on the rooftop–

I staggered into the side of the wall on reflex and sucked in a sharp breath. Proximo stilled and the faceless' smile faded.

"Apologies I meant no... disrespect." The face morphed into a female again that looked almost fifty. For this city that was rare.

"Forget it." I growled, pulling myself up and scanning the wrinkles closely. "Get me something as forgettable as the face you're wearing–then another for him." I stated, jutting my thumb at Proximo's towering form.

"I look forward to making you forgettable, Scorpion."

I didn't correct his or her assumption I still held the title. There were many things Scorpion had lost her grip on... I didn't need to be reminded of another.





* * * * *



The crowds roared in that familiar electricity they always had. I used to live for it. Oblivion in the form of the shouts of a room, the drinks of the Underworld and the morals no one bothered to care for. Honesty among thieves.

Now all I saw was a painful reminder of how far a woman from Sector 1 had come into the darkness. A world that was mine by design now hers by necessity.

I looked at my hands. Weathered but not too much. Middle age. A forgettable face. Proximo regarded me behind the guise of brown eyes and a beard.

"How will you find Artella?"

"He will be near her." He answered in certainty. Then he adjusted the nondescript leather jacket he had traded his trench for.

The crowd roared again and parted. Proximo nodded at me and we split up in search of two different people. It was a busy night. A fight night and the usual low lives were here. I did my best to avoid the pushes of bodies and ignore the ache in my side. At least it wasn't the lethal stab of pain it had been days before. Now it was manageable.

"I see him." His voice spoke distorted into my comm.

"Is she there?" I demanded, dodging drinkers and gamblers.

"Tailing her six. Heading for the bookie."

"How long have they been here?"

"Long enough for Xavier to collect her winnings–or Artella's." He snorted. "Do you have a plan here or do you just want to tail?"

I didn't have time to answer him as the crowd parted briefly and I saw her. Her hair ran in a braid over her shoulder and her arms gleamed with sweat and splashes of blood. Her shoulder's moved with her breathing as she took a credit bar. But it's not what held me in place.

What held me on spot between the noise was the emptiness in her eyes.

This wasn't for the release or the simple pleasure of skill. It was to turn her mind towards something that wasn't the look in her eyes. The one that didn't have any emotion in it at all. The one I remember well when I lost my family in the outer Sectors and the one when I killed far too young.

"Makayla..." My whisper was lost to the beat of the music.

The crowd finally swallowed my view of her away and I lost sight. A shoulder hit me and I moved quickly in her direction. I reached the bookie and she was gone. The regular eyed me unimpressed before waving me away from his line. I ignored it and scanned the surroundings again.

"Where are they?" I demanded.

"Going back in by the look of it–"

The announcer cut off the words with a shout of next contenders. One of them being my own name. I couldn't shake that look from her eyes. Even under the flashing lights and darkened shadows she was lost. So painfully empty. And it was my fault.

"–you listening?" Proximo pressed in my ear. "–move to the pit."

"Would you go in there?"

"Come again? It sounded like you said something ridiculous." He deadpanned back.

"Would you just–go in there and get her out?" I said over the music, "–please Proximo." I finished with an edge in my voice.

I heard the beat of the music echo in my ear a moment before he finally responded.

"Things I do for you god damn women."

I reached the edge of the pit and saw the two fighters down below. Then I saw Makayla. She only wore a sleeveless combat skin and tactical pants. It was not enough. She should have been wearing a vanguard with sleeves and weapons within reach–did she want the hits? I scanned her arms with the blood that I hoped was not her own before another huge body slammed into the pit and the crowd grew animated.

Proximo's face was foreign to them all but his body was built for much more.

Makayla froze and appraised him. It didn't move the dead look from her eyes.

He stepped forward and calmly told the men across the pit to disappear. They not so calmly refused. I wasn't surprised because of the credits on the line in here–but that's why I asked Proximo to go in.

He put them both on the floor in the time it took the announcer to get the first sentence out. Makayla watched him without moving from the other side. He turned to her and jutted his thumb out of the pit. She shook her head slowly at him and took the first step forward.

I growled under my breath.

Then I noticed the man watching intently across from me. A man with light caramel skin and arms bigger than the any man's here. He scanned the stranger before Makayla like he read straight through him–straight through the mask.

Then Makayla sent a kick for Proximo's chest without warning and he staggered backwards.

The crowd cheered. Credits started flying.

I tore my wrist up to my mouth.

"Proximo. Don't even dare–she doesn't know it's you."

He blocked another set of vicious attacks more prepared this time and sent another punch so wide she stumbled. He turned and met my eyes directly as he walked calmly around the pit.

"Not even a little?" He answered.

She slid her feet between his when his back was turned and sent him to the ground. He caught another kick in his forearm and the shouting around the pit increased. Someone threw a bottle and it sprayed alcohol over his eyes.

He snarled while Makayla capitalised unbothered.

What the hell is going on in her head...

He took the continued attacks better than anyone could half blinded by whatever the hell these morons threw before she finally cut a fist into his nose and it bled. I stilled waiting for the faceless tech to ripple and give him up–but the blood ran through his altered nose as if it were the same skin.

But his eyes were a new level of pissed off now.

"Proximo don't–"

He rushed her and dismissed her next blow like it was a passing breeze. He picked her off the ground by the waist and sent her to the floor heavily.

"PROXIMO!" I roared, about to pull my body over the edge myself when another dropped in.

Artella Maxim grabbed his collar and launched him off her. Makayla stilled on the floor breathing heavy. Even the crowd quietened as they appraised this titan facing off against another titan.

"That's enough!" He called over the music and Makayla.

I need to get that man a god damn promotion.

But Proximo was far from done. His false face was contorted in a new anger and it had nothing to do with Makayla.

"You sure you want to pick this fight?" Proximo called back, riling the crowds up further.

Makayla pulled herself to her feet and said something to Artella before he shook his head stiffly and ordered her out. She stared at him for a moment before turning her glare for the edge of the ring. She wasn't happy. But she didn't know who stood in that ring now.

But something told me Artella Maxim did.