Beatrix Belladonna in B.A.B.S. : A Cyberpunk Adventure

Pacing the confined room, Beatrix Belladonna knew her time was limited. How was she possibly going to fake what President Spike wanted? They'd all call her a charlatan...just like her mother. She turned to her mom, laying in the bed, and watched her stir. “Hey, are you awake?!” She rushed over to her side, barely able to contain her enthusiasm.

“Ugh...” Bags hung under Trixie's eyes when she blinked awake. “Oh, it's you again.” She curled blankets around her bare body, messy loose locks hanging around a haggard face, and fiddled with tubes in her nose.

“Talk about a warm welcome! Come on, mom, speak to me!”

“I'm not your mother! Not really! You're from some alternate dimension, or so you claim! And me...” She turned her head away with pursed lips. “I'm no longer worthy of calling myself the 'Great and Powerful Trixie'! Because without my powers, I'm a loser! Just another failure and charlatan, like they all claimed! You want my look? You can have it!”

Beatrix scrunched up her face. Had anyone else talked about her mother that way, she'd smack them senseless. “You're not a loser! So far as I'm concerned, all Trixies are my mother, and you taught me almost everything I know! You saved Equestria at least twice! Isn't that enough?!”

“That's when I still had magic! Without it, I'm worthless! I don't have a place in this world!”

She grabbed her upper arms. “That's crap! You showed me lots of skills that didn't need magic! Sleight-of-hand! The escape artist stuff! You think any rube in the crowd could pull that off? Heck, you showed me how to survive on the streets!”

Trixie slowly turned to meet her gaze, and her expression softened a little. “I could almost believe you came from me. You have spirit, at least.” She sighed and let her head rest against the wall with a clunk. “Who's the father supposed to be, anyway?”

“Shining Armor.”

“Yuck, really? I would have surely done much better!” She grimaced before stroking her chin, lost in fantasy. “Still, quite the hottie. Too bad he's already taken.”

Beatrix brightened and leaned in closer. “My father exists here, too?”

“Yeah, but he lives halfway across the world. Married into royalty and dwells in some remote region. Never met him myself, although I toured in the area. Good times.” She wistfully recalled the days when fans practically worshiped her.

“That's too bad,” replied Beatrix with a pout. “I really wanted to see him.”

“Sadly,” sighs Flutterbitch, crossing her arms. “You'll all be taken to President Spike soon. No one here is in any position to resist him, even if they wanted to. But I won't let him hurt Tree Hugger, no matter what it costs!”

Tree Hugger clasped her midsection from behind. “I'll be fine, babe. I'm more worried about the Flower Children.”

“Lady Ewe went to check on them,” reminded Beatrix. “She'll make it all okay.”

“You have faith, too.” Tree Hugger's crooked smile widened.

Beatrix shrugged. “On a personal level, yeah. Lady Ewe's saved my cute butt lots of times! She's been a mentor to me, too!” Looking back to her mother she said, “Come on! Let's get you bathed and dressed!”

“Fine, fine.” Grumbling, Trixie tossed the blanket aside and stumbled to her bare feet. She allowed her daughter to undo the tubes, and lead her by the hand into a shower, where Beatrix stripped too and let the sonic vibrations washed over their supple bodies.

Belladonna shivered and cooed in delight, their flesh decorated in tiny goosebumps, unable to deny the stimulation.

“Goodness,” mumbled Beatrix, who felt her loins heat up. “Not sure how women in this world everleave these showers.”

Trixie snickered. “It's not easy!” She posed boldly, swished her hair, almost back to her old self. “So, you can still work magic, huh? I'd like to see what I've taught you some time! I might even be able to rediscover my own powers, after you strut your stuff!”

“I'd like that,” answered Beatrix with a playful smirk. Pressed close to her in the cramped stall, she basked in her mother's warm touch whenever they made contact, relieved to see friendly faces such as her and Tree Hugger. She'd burnt bridges with Babs Seed and wasn't sure how the rest of the mercenaries would react to her after recent events.

“Careful mom,” she warned, catching Trixie before she slipped. “You're still weak!”

“Nonsense,” replied Trixie, who straightened herself, her pride clearly hurt. “I'll be fine.”

Beatrix nodded, relieved to see her mother was almost back to her usual vain self. It was one less worry on her back, at least.

Could she depend on the other Spike to save her if President Spike was displeased? Her thoughts drifted, and she stared down at herself, her nipples perky and her breasts pert under the ticklish hum that surrounded them. She and Trixie moaned low, let the electrical tingles cascade over them, completely surrendered to what she feared could be her last moment of peace.

*****

Later that night, B.A.B.S. was summoned to President Spike's office. Babs Seed finished her last cigarette, and with her team and prisoners stepped into the elevator, where they waited in silence and counted down the moments to meet the Dragon Lord.

A ding sounded, and they stepped out, where he sat at his desk, his secretary Rarity at his side who cast them a too-perfect smile.

“You're dismissed,” he said to his suited guards and waved them away. “So...” He rose as they left and looked between them like he wondered where to begin. “Tree Hugger, isn't it? Sorry about what happened to your cult.”

She furrowed her bushy eyebrows. “Again, they're not a cult. Besides, you didn't bring us here for platitudes, you know?”

He heaved his shoulders with a grin. “I simply want to make you feel at home. There's no need to punish you, not after what you've been through. Consider yourself a guest! You too, Beatrix! You're all welcome to stay.”

“Yet not welcome to leave, right?” Hugs scowled. “I feel the vibes you're radiating...”

Clasping his hands behind him, he said, “You have to understand. I can't let you run free, or else who knows what trouble you'll bring our way? The Flower Children have admittedly been a thorn in my side for quite some time. And while my mercenaries might have been a little, shall we say, heavy-handed with their tactics, I don't think there were too many casualties.”

“Shouldn't have been any casualties, man! But what's done is done."

Spike pursed his lips. “You'll be provided a room suited to your needs. Don't worry, 'Flutterbitch', you can visit her.”

“How gracious,” said Flutters, who gave the closest approximation of a mock curtsy she could manage in her bondage gear.

“As for you, Babs Seed, did you get what I asked for?” He drummed his fingers on the desk, unable to contain his impatience.

“Y-yeah. Here.” Babs opened her satchel and showed him the jar where a purple swirl of energy danced.

“Wonderful! Well, no time to waste.” He clapped his hands together. “Beatrix, you can practice here. Whatever you need to make this happen, it's yours. My men are already busy researching on a way to restore your dimensional powers.”

Beatrix swallowed hard. “Uh, thanks! I'll get right on it!” She nodded at her mother, who followed her into the room he waved at. The doors automatically slid open, where an alchemy laboratory awaited her, shelves lined in bottles with chemicals.

“Huh,” she called with an echo and took in the place. “Maybe I can make it work if I can make these concoctions active...?”

What he didn't know was that the other Spike had switched Rarity's soul with a fake, little more than remnants of energy collected from an area where another travel had wandered into this dimension like him.

Babs had agreed to his ruse in return for his aid, hopeful it would buy time before they enacted their plan. After all, she reasoned B.A.B.S. days were numbered.

Yet could a team of mercenaries pull it off even with the help of the Werewolves?

President Spike employed many teams of death squads, and most of the city was in his pocket. To save her team, she'd have to take the slimmest chance offered.

*****

With a hum, Beatrix Belladonna started her work. Seated on a stool by her mother, she laid out several ingredients, most that would be useless in this cybernetic age...but some reacted to the traces of magic she summoned with a twinkle of her fingers. She brewed a few basic potions, which bubbled and fizzed over, the air filled with colorful, perfume-like fumes that filled her nostrils.

Studying them, she mused, “They're weak...but at least they'll work. Hardly up to my usual standards, though, and far from what President Spike wants.” She kicked her booted feet, which swung back-and-forth. “Damn, this really sucks!”

“Impressive. For an amateur,” teased Trixie with a wiggle of her nose.

“Oh, hush.” She nudged her back in the ribs, and they shared a series of giggles.

A soft-spoken voice said, “Sorry to interrupt.” Lady Ewe strolled over with the dreamcatcher staff in hand. “Beatrix, I've had a look around this place, and while I dared not venture too deep, it's as I feared. Spike may have ways to detect me, and I've discovered much that's disturbed me. None of you are safe here, not after all the things I've discovered him capable of.”

“Go on,” said Beatrix, who ignored her incredulous mother, unable to see or hear the shepherd.

Sighing, Oona walked around the dimly-lit, almost dungeon-like lab, uncertain where to begin. “First off, Spike's company has been doing experiments on bending space-and-time. I believe he may have been trying to abandon this universe and seek another, likely to be reunited with Rarity. The trouble is, I believe his attempts tore holes in reality.”

Beatrix fumbled a tube and barely caught it before it spilled utterly, the excess hissing once it splashed on the table. The prismatic contents popped and spread in a thin, viscous slime. “You mean-?”

“Yes. It's likely his fault you were drawn here. The other Spike may have ended up pulled in the same way. You know better than to create more than one rift at a time, but with his efforts, he could cause this entire universe to collapse on itself!” She heaved, barely able to restrain her subdued fury. “Worse, an old enemy has been drawn here.”

“Another Vice Lord? We'll beat them like we always do,” assured Beatrix, who punched the air in triumph.

Lady Ewe shook her head. “It may not be that simple. Especially if my intuition is correct, and he's--augh?!”

Beatrix shot to her feet. “Lady Ewe, what's the matter?!”

Trixie rose too and shook her head. “Who are you talking to?! What's the matter?!” But again, her daughter ignored her as her face became stricken with terror.

Watching the goat woman vanish into the ether, Beatrix whispered, “I can't sense you anymore. Lady Ewe, please, be okay.” She couldn't help but feel alone again, but at least now she had her mother to keep her company, and settled back in her chair.

She pondered what Ewe had said. Pulling her here had likely been a happy accident, but she wouldn't put it past President Spike to try and steal her powers if he could.

Perhaps their loss had even been a side-effect of what he'd done? If so, she feared she might prove disposable in time, another loose end that he could deal with in any number of ways in short order...

*****

“Ouch.” Lady Oona Ewe landed with a thump in an alley and rubbed her backside. “At least I'm not too far from her. This looks familiar.... Hold on.... This was where Beatrix first showed up, isn't it?” With the evidence apparent, this must mean she too had been pulled here by a hole in reality.

Unable to simply wait around in this filthy place, she tested her magic with a twinkle of her fingers and discovered she could summon a few ethereal bubbles. While it wasn't much, she reasoned this was far better than nothing, and with practice, perhaps she could eventually restore her former potential.

She started to set off, merely to stop short once shadows headed her way.

Realizing she was at a severe disadvantage, she nevertheless took up a combat stance with her weapon raised, prepared for the worst. "I know you're here! Come on out before I shove my staff so far up your as-"

“Whoa. Relax,” called Spike, who raised his hands before him, dressed in his leather jacket. “We're on your side.”

She relaxed her posture, uncertain if the Werewolves could be trusted but aware she had few alternatives. So with a huff, she followed the gang down the maze of winding alleyways. While walking, her thoughts drifted back to Varys' warning and poor Beatrix, unaware of the danger she was in.

Once more, she'd inadvertently drawn her into a private conflict, but figured Beatrix would consider it a favor after all the times they'd helped each other out. She would make a note to be more strict in her tutoring once they made it out of this mess.

The gang leader led her into a black van that hovered in place, and after a moment's hesitation, she piled in with him and several other members, cramped up and ready to move out. “We plan to hit the Dragon Lord HQ and save your buddies. You in?”

“Of course! At least now, I don't have to stand by and worry over Beatrix's safety,” she sighed, resting her chin onto the top of her dreamcatcher staff.

“Good! I like her, too. And I have a personal stake, what with how that imposter has ruined my name, not to mention I want to save Rarity.” The vehicle rattled when it sped off, and one of his men passed the jar where the violet soul of Rarity danced under the container. It shimmers reflected over his face when he smirked. “I'll save you, I swear it.”

They sailed down the blocks, the air stuffy, and her robes clung to her skin. She noted the rest of them didn't look too comfortable either in all that leather but were undoubtedly used to this.

She started to zone out. A thud sounded, and the van momentarily spun.

“What the-?” Spike raced to the front to check on his driver. “How did they find us?!”

“Don't think it's Spike's crew,” the driver answered. “We're being chased by Redcaps!”

“Must have seen us dip out the alley and followed!” Spike hurried to the back, and the side door slid open, where he and his gang readied machine guns and assault rifles to return fire. Horns blared while they sped over the roads at top speed, several cars gaining on them. Bullets whizzed with a rattle, and a brilliant laser beam seared into the van's armor with a hiss.

The driver wound his way through traffic, narrowly missed more hover cars, and bullets continuously pinged around them. Some bounced off and left dents while others chewed into the metal.

Oona ducked down and lamented the fact that without her powers, she was nearly useless. “Curses! So this is what it's like on the low end," she muttered, understanding the struggles Beatrix was going through.

“Leave it to us,” yelled Spike, who ducked out and returned fire. “Damn!”

One of his men screamed once a high-powered bullet ripped through his midsection. He toppled out in a spray of red and rolled down the road with a trail left behind. Heavily armored cars closed the distance, practically stuck to their bumper.

“We don't have Beatrix,” muttered Spike, whose heated uzi rattled in his hand and spat its ammo. “But do they know that?”

Lady Ewe kept low and said, “Perhaps they're after Rarity's soul. If they can somehow sense magical signatures...”

“Huh, could be. Thought that imposter was one of the few with that kind of tech,” mused Spike with a grimace.

"He's most likely reverse-engineered another's tech," Lady Ewe said with spite, knowing that obsessive doctor likely had his hand in adjusting weapons here.

An explosion sounded when one of their pursuers erupted in a fiery blast under their assault. Spike punched the air in celebration, but nearly half a dozen still pursued, their armored cars almost demonic in appearance and lined with heavy weaponry. The cyborgs directly interfaced with their machines, with little of the men they used to be still there.

“Wired in, huh?” Spike tossed his clip out the
door and slapped in another. “Explains their insane reflexes.”

Oona nodded. “They're akin to living computers.” She winced, the van shaken under another heavy blow. “We won't last at this rate.” Gunfire smoke stink mixed with molten metal, and the van rattled so hard it threatened to shake itself apart under the attack. In desperation, she called on her powers, only to sigh at the meager sparks she summoned about her fingertips.

She yelped and was thrown alongside the others when the half-broken van toppled from the air, skidded with sparks on the streets, and rolled onto its side with a screech down the highway. A thunk sounded when it crashed into a bridge's rail.

Spike growled, and his eyes started to glow. Looking around at his boys, a couple dead and several wounded, fur began to sprout, muscles twisted, bones popped when he underwent the familiar transformation that filled him with primal heat.

He pressed the container to Oona's chest. “Take this and escape! I'll hold these losers off! Just slip out and stay low!”

With a nod she clambered out while the werewolf leaped ahead with claws brandished and snout drawn to bare his teeth. She didn't look back, but her ears twitched at the sounds of more bullets and lasers, mixed with snarls and screams.

She kept the holder with Rarity's soul pressed to her bosom, weaved about traffic, and prayed her allies would be safe.

*****

Beatrix's work had noticeably gone slower, no thanks to the sudden disturbance of her friend. Her mother had fallen asleep a while ago, and she was still unsure what else she could need.

"Ugh, this is so ridiculous," she muttered, rubbing at her temples. "I just wanna go home. I'm not sure if I could find something stronger than this..."

"Perhaps I can be of assistance."

She nearly jumped in alert before turning towards the owner of that digitalized voice. Before Beatrix stood a robed figure, arms crossed behind his back and making his way towards her. She couldn't look away from the robotic mask hiding his face, nor the glaring red eyes shining through the sockets.

"I think I have the answer you're looking for."