Return of The Corps

[Thaal Sinestro]

Smoke billowed over a nearby crag, desert shrubs sprinkled wherever they could find purchase over steep, jagged red rock. There were pillars rising up every couple hundred feet, stabbing at the sky like a thousand needles of wind-carved stone. The badlands were filled with hidden nooks and crannies, affording the raiders and wild men plenty of opportunity to conceal themselves after striking out at caravans and travelers. Patrolling these areas had become a priority for Sinestro while his other members trained the newest recruits, and he didn’t mind bringing his company along with him. It reminded him of the days he had spent becoming Roland’s deputy, though it had become significantly easier to clear out pockets of resistance since he had regained his ring.

“So,” the lantern said flatly, “tell me everything you know about the men on the other side of this ridge.”

After a dismissive sigh, Charlie pushed the brim of his cap up and peered up, his glinting, sea-green eyes scanning quickly. “Fire’s not too big, but prob’ly a few of em. I’d say no more’n ten ‘r so. They ain’t been there for too long; ain’t no trails cut. If they got any horses, they’re thirsty and ain’t had much to eat. Slow.”

Sinestro smirked, and nodded. “I’ll forgive you for not knowing about other means of transportation, but they likely have cars or speeders. In either case, you’re right about them being thirsty. They’ve been stranded out in the wastes for too long to likely have a reliable source of fuel.” He paused and turned to the criminal, “But did you consider a prime?”

Prince huffed and shifted his weight, “I s’pose you’re right, mister. If they got somebody like us, they could whip up anything they need. Food, water, weapons.” His piercing gaze shot to his captor, “Now what you got me out here doing? We gonna go in there, guns blazing?”

Sinestro nodded. “We’ll see who they are, what they have. If it’s likely that they’ve been attacking the citizens under my watch, we’ll solve the problem.”

Charlie shook his head and rolled his jaw. “Now I ain’t a lawman, ya hear? I got no interest in whatever yer job is, cause I got no want of it.”

The lantern laughed, and removed his hat, allowing the scorching daylight to shine over his face. “You don’t need to do anything, Prince. Only watch.”

“What,” he scoffed, “you fixin’ to show me what’ll happen to me if I don’t join yer little posse?”

Sinestro lifted his fist, and his ring shined brighter than the sun could drown out. His clothing burned and fizzled away in blotches of yellow-edged oblivion, revealing the skintight Sinestro Corps uniform beneath. “I will show you the power of Fear.”

A beam of golden light surrounded the rough-worn bandit and the two lifted into the air with alarming speed. Charlie pressed his hat down on his head and staggered in the air for a moment, only to realize that he felt no wind. The vibrant glow of the ring’s energy supported every aspect of his body and left him with an alien weightless sensation that he had only experienced floating atop a perfectly still lake. He watched in horrid wonder as the plants that dotted the hill rushed below him, and suppressed a yelp when they reached a dizzying height, hundreds of feet above the encampment.

His attention snapped to Sinestro as he let out a ponderous, “Hmm.” The korugaran pointed to the small campfire, surrounded by a few mismatched individuals that milled around beneath them, completely unaware of their presence. “It seems you were right. A small camp, a few vehicles. They even have a horse. They don’t seem to have very much in way of supplies, but what they do is marked with our bank’s logo. That either means a prime is making them on demand, or they’re all secondaries.” Stark, gleaming yellow pupils cut into Prince’s and for a moment they shared eye contact. “Would you like to take a gamble on which?” Prince stammered a few times, still overwhelmed by the majesty and terror of flight. “I’ll assume they’re alone. What kind of prime would waste their time robbing banks and caravans when they could simply create whatever their hearts desired?”

Before Charlie could respond to the jab, they careened towards the ground. He found himself flailing his arms around in total disequilibrium, without a sense of balance gravity to steady himself. He shouted, wide eyed, as they approached the ground at breathtaking speed, only to come to a gentle halt ten feet above the group.

“Good afternoon, citizens of the Dunes,” Sinestro said, his tone sharp as a razor and carrying throughout the canyons that surrounded. “What brings you to this remote locale?”

The group all snapped to attention, looking up at the Corpsman with shock. After a few seconds of gawking, a super mutant snatched his minigun off of a nearby boulder, grunted, and unleashed a hail of bullets. Sparks flew from Sinestro’s aura as he slowly shook his head in disappointment. “That’s what I thought.”

A golden tether flickered out from Sinestro’s ring, fastening around one of the assailant’s feet before whipping the nine foot monstrosity into a nearby speeder bike, which exploded on impact. A Redguard woman was flung across the camp and slammed into the face of the stone alcove with a splurt of crimson. Her companions scrambled to arm themselves. “You may either submit to arrest and reeducation, or die here like your friends,” the lantern’s voice boomed, his arms folded behind his back as he patiently waited for them to retaliate. “If you wish to survive this encounter, lay down your weapons, step out of the combat zone, put your hands on your head and await detainment.”

A beat-up cowboy fired a handful of bullets, each zinging from the all-encompassing shield around Sinestro’s body. He held his hand to his chest as a beam of amber light snapped through it, then crumpled to the ground in a heap. “Noncompliance will not be tolerated,” the Corpsman reminded them, his voice calm and even.

Some sort of dashing rogue tore a rapier from his belt and thrust it in the air. “Come down and face us like a man!” she proclaimed in an elegant accent of indeterminate origin.

Slowly the korugaran drifted to the ground, and perked his eyebrow. “Gender discrimination is looked down upon in my territories.”

The man screamed a battle cry and sprinted into a thrust, only to find a brilliant yellow saber delicately deflecting it. Sinestro pursed his lips softly at the man’s expression of amazement, then pushed his blade into his throat. Gurgling, the duelist slumped and slid off the tip of the weapon as it dematerialized. “I’ll give the rest of you one last chance to surrender,” the lawman said, looking between the rest of the marauders.

“I’m not going to one of your damn camps!” a surly, cloth-wrapped warrior snapped. “I’d rather die then become one of your little puppets you pink bastard!”

Holding his arm out, Sinestro took a few steps in the fighter’s direction. “You’ll be fed, clothed, bathed and housed. There is more than enough for you within the comfort of our city. We only ask that you learn to contribute to the health, safety and wellbeing of our people rather than detract from it, as you are now.” He closed his open hand into a fist, and slowly pointed his ring in their direction. “But if you insist.”

The warrior roared and bounded towards the lantern empty handed, but his charge was cut short when his head was removed at the shoulders by a charged beam of hard-light.

A moogle carrying a rifle three times its size glanced up to a lizard person, mouth agape. The two nodded, threw down their weapons, and placed their paws on the back of their heads. Sinestro’s glower faded into a smile, and he turned to face them. “Your compliance is appreciated.”