“Well look like someone's had a rough evening. What did you-”
“Not today Thorton,” I said shoving by as the large, bulky man attempted to block my path. He had developed a habit of trying to piss me off on a day to day basis, and I was in no mood for it today. To think that even for a second I held fear for some flimsy little prick. I was scolding myself as if I were speaking from a completely different conscious while my real body just sat there like a dead beat hound.
What the fuck was that Jess. A guy throws a look at you and you crack, is that it? What you can't handle a little heat. Fire too hot for you? Or maybe the cold stare had you frozen which is why you missed that last punch, or why you let him get behind you, nearly pummeling a fist through your chest. Ready to hear about this for a week? Did you hear? Jess the bad ass was just pampered by a angry little wanna-be tough guy throwing a tantrum. Guess all that training was for nothing. And here I was fooled into thinking that you could compete with the best.
I felt my energy burning my skin as Thorton constantly ran his mouth, going on about my rudeness. Or maybe it was because I had sent his ass flying over a desk when he tried getting in my way. I stomped through the lobby of Wing D of the Nikolai Division towards my office. We were known as some of the top fighters among The Guild. The difference in us and other so called elite divisions was that we weren't specialized. We were strategists. Didn't matter if it was infiltration, assassination, front lines, support, space, ground, open-field or a goddamn broom closet, whatever it was, we could handle it. We never got assignments directly to our division. Instead, we were asked to accompany the other divisions in the tasks that required a delicate touch.
My next assignment was babysitting the leader of Wolf Prime, a division primarily specializing in infiltration. They were a sought after branch, and one of the few that could be considered elite. Generally, they took contracts where their targets had heavy external disruptors, such as ions that could disable ships and null out powers. Since head on assault became impossible without extreme casualties in those circumstances, their job was to infiltrate and work from the inside, discovering possible weaknesses, or shutting down defenses. You had to be stealthy and you had to be formidable enough in combat to go toe to toe with the best. But that still made no excuse for what happened earlier. I went with the intention of putting my foot up the ass of any bastard that even remotely questioned my right to be there. Instead, I ended up cowering away at some cheap flake pansy.
I was about to enter my office when I caught the words of Jet, as he smirked off about my encounter.
“I'd back off Thorton, I hear little Ms. Diva here had a little run in with her new subordinate. And from what I hear he had her crouching with her tail tucked. Looks like she'll be the one getting bent over and-”
I didn't even let him finish the statement. I bolted over, catching him with a fist that drove into his stomach, lifting him up off the ground. I spun around and planted a kick into his chest, forcing out the air he had left, if any. He went flying across the lobby, loose papers zipping up as he passd. I darted towards him, and got behind while he was still flying through the air. I jumped and landed a scissor kick to his jaw, crashing his head into the floor. His body ricocheted back into the air, and he turned, landing on his knees and spewing up blood as he violently grasped for air. I kicked him up, and caught him by his shirt and then flashed forward until I pinned him on the wall. I heard the cracks in his ribs as I applied more and more pressure.
“You say something?” I asked, daring him to respond in a way I didn't like. He smirked, coughing up blood in the process.
“Just talking about the game, that's all,” he replied. I released my grip and turned to walk towards my office. Thorton whistled as I passed him.
“Someone is DEFINTELY angrier than usual today.” I stopped, and turned my head, casting a glare at him. “You really want to test me today Thorton?”
“Would not dream of it beautiful. That's a nice shirt your wearing by the way, really uh, brings out your....skin. Yea.” I ignored the attempt at a compliment and continued into my office, slamming the door as I got inside. I banged my fist against the desk, now even more pissed off at myself. Not only had that fur ball gotten to me, but now I had lost my cool and cracked one of our best member's ribs the day before he was set to go off on a contract. I was definitely going to hear about this before the day was over with. I sat down at my desk, and buried my face into my hands as I tried to calm the thoughts bursting through my mind. The more they came the worse I felt. I was constantly undermimed being an Elzna my entire life.
Slut. That was the title that came with it. Everyone sees an Elzna and their hormones go crazy, thinking that all of us are the same. We released natural pheremones that attracted every race, and only those with an extremely strong mentality could get past it. Using this is how the Elzna made their mark on the galaxy. That and the fact that we had complete control over our reproductive organs. We could not only stop our bodies from reproducing, but we could reproduce from any race, or any gender. I was raised much differently from other Elzna. Most Elzna specialized in illusion techniques, learning to control their pheremones to astonishing levels in order to pursue whatever life they chose. About 45 percent chose the brothels. Others who had a bit more sense and desire than sex, chose more prominent careers in marketing and business, or anything that required intense negotiations. Some became con artists, and damn good ones. I was an even rarer case, raised around the military. And in those cases, only a few had done anything besides desk work.
My father, Jester Nikolai, was a member of The Guild, and the founder of the Nikolai Division. He was a man which me and my mother both idolized for his will to defy the odds. As a child I was obsessed with learning more than simple illusion tricks. I wanted to be an elite. One who would eventually surpass even him. My father allowed me to be around the Guild from birth. And when I learned to walk, I began learning to fight. He was often busy on contracts, so I rarely got lessons directly from him, however I bugged the other elites enough so that they would teach me a few tricks in their spare time. I eventually got to the age where I could attend the Occultic Academy, where people went to hone their skills in various techniques in preparation for a life in the military. Here I was constantly looked down on, and harassed by those whom fighting came naturally from their bloodline. They always viewed me as the weak one, thinking that I needed their protection, and that they would perform some chilvarious and they would become my prince charming or some ego-filled bullshit like that. All of them viewed me the same way. Someone to protect because I couldn't hold my own. And I got tired of standing for it. After all, I was going to surpass my father one day.
So day and night, hour after hour I spent developing every skill there was. I bled, I sweat, and I cried, and I cried, and cried many times over. Cried out of rage whenever I lost in an all out battle, or out of despair when a situation presented itself that I hadn't prepared for. Time after time it was failure after failure. And each time it seemed that my goal got further and further from my grasp. And then I would wipe those tears and continue on. Whether it was concealing my presence or a test of outright power, I trained to be the best at it. I eventually beat out every one of them and passed, but I still hadn't gotten any recognition. Still I hadn't made any impressions. My mother finally allowed me to take the exam to get into the guild, and immediately I was cast off as the underdog. The Elzna. The useless wanna-be who should have been somewhere in the brothels wooing and pleasing some fat bearded Borrean. They casted their glances at me, and offered to help me as if their offerings would win me over. And I drew the line. I no longer cried. Instead, I let the hurt turn into results. I trained harder, and fiercer until I beat them out and passed with highest ranking, getting into the Elite branch. I put in work to get to this level, and I was not for taking on any bullshit tasks, and I certainly didn't fancy getting punked out by some kid with a bad attitude.
I realized that I was now crying for the first time since I had joined The Guild. I felt all of the hurt knotted in my chest that I had worked so hard to rid myself of. I wiped my tears, and took a deep breath to steady myself. There was no time for sulking. Sitting here wouldn't prevent me from losing another fight. I got up and grabbed my bag from the window seal. It was time to produce more results.