06-04-2015, 11:00 AM
The caravan of trophies solemnly sauntered over the desert sands, the furious rage of the boiling sky slowly cooling to a more tolerable heat. The clouds on the horizon painted in bold colors as the sunset came to a head. Indigo and violet mixed with vibrant blues, red and orange smeared into yellow. Sinestro admired their beauty, searching for green as the warring lights faded away into darkness. Soon the stars began to poke through the veil of black, and light was born once again from the void.
He recalled his time amid the stars, wishing to once again glide upon the stellar winds of his home sector. He longed to feel the power of the universe surging through him once again, in all of its glory, and to be an agent of the ultimate order.
He opened his dry, beaten, dirty, hand and looked down upon it. The memories of what that hand had once held were powerful: a ring, a hand, a future. All that he was, all that he held, had slipped through his fingers.
Once, hope ran blue through his heart. Before he was a lantern, before he was anything, he was a man of history. He had unearthed the vast cities of Korugar’s past, and laid to rest the mysteries of the ages. He had not been the greatest archaeologist, but he had been a good one.
It was in a desert, not unlike this one, that he made his first true discovery. It was a small idol from a civilization thought to be completely lost. It had taken him years of planning, charting out the weather patterns of a plain that stopped existing four thousand years ago, mapping the trade routes made on foot by peasant farmers, analyzing, researching, understanding, before he even picked up a shovel or brush. Within the first month of digging, he found the relic and reopened the entire field of study.
What treasures awaited him underneath these shifting desert sands, he wondered. Surely marvels beyond comprehension hid just below the surface, pleading to be unearthed. The madness of the Omniverse offered nothing less than the possibility of the infinite.
---
The bandit’s M809 war truck slid to a stop in front of the still-burning ruins of the stable, the flames casting a gruesome silhouette of the android’s metallic carcass dangling from the rafters by his own chords. Perhaps this man was somebody she should worry about after all.
She hopped down, rifle already up and scanning. It didn’t appear that there were any survivors, blood and oil everywhere. The horses, speeder and thieves all seemed to be missing though. Growling in frustration, the bandit scanned again for tracks, this time quickly identifying their path of egress.
She must have taken a route just parallel to theirs, passing them on her way to the stable. He seemed to be headed back to town, reinforcing her ideas that he was a law keeper from the Town With No Name. That or maybe a bounty hunter.
Leaping back into the vehicle, she once again picked up the trail.
---
The freshly-broken dawn woke Nelson from his slumber, and all he knew was pain. His leg ached mercilessly, a heavy, pounding ache that throbbed from the sole of his foot through his hip bones. His chest had bled all over him, the ridged, messy angles of Sinestro’s poor blacksmithing burning like the brand was still hot. None of this was to mention his back which screamed out even over his traumatic injuries from having been bend backwards on a moving horse for at least six hours.
He attempted to groan, but his parched throat only managed a helpless gasp. He was dehydrated, and his naked chest had been at the mercy of the elements. He was honestly shocked he was still alive. The only part of his body that he seemed to have any control over was his head, which he allowed to roll to the side. Somewhere out there, he thought he heard something. Something like… a song?
The distant sound of music bled into the air, its enthusiastic rhythm growing louder as a dust trail grew larger on the horizon.
“What in is that?” Sinestro asked aloud, turning to face the noise as he stopped his camel.
The churning diesel roar of the war truck peaked as it careened over a dune, flying into the air like a steel-born Valkyrie. The suspension creaked as the five ton goliath hit the ground, its olive-drab body rocking from side to side as the driver recovered from wild fish-tailing. With all four wheels pointed in the same direction, the smoke stack spewed another cloud of black fumes and the engine barreled onward.
“Holy fuck!” Nelson managed to choke out, straining against the ropes that held him.
With her black dreads flapping in the wind, the woman leaned out of the window and leveled her laser rifle at Sinestro. With a gasp of surprise, he leapt from his saddle and rolled, a beam hissing by and narrowly missing his head. Two more shots turned the red sand to black glass as he scrambled to avoid her attacks. The korugaran franticly withdrew his rifle from its holster on his mount, slapped the animal’s hind leg and yelled, “Hut!” The camel moaned and ran off at a frantic pace, dragging the horse and speeder behind it.
Dropping down on one knee, Sinestro cracked off a shot into the windshield of the oncoming war truck, a web of cracks spreading. The driver accelerated as two more bullets fractured the glass, charging heedlessly towards her opponent.
Sinestro sprang to the side as the five ton ploughed through, the monster of metal and grease streaking close enough that he could taste the exhaust. The woman dove from the open door of the truck as it passed, tucking and rolling when she hit the ground. She toppled head over heel before she landed on her feet, weapon raised and ready, sand pouring from her armor like water.
Red snaps of energy seared the earth as Sinestro tumbled forward fired his long gun again, her armor twanging as the force threw her off balance. Throwing his weapon aside and charging forward, Sinestro tackled his attacker at the waist, slamming her into the ground mercilessly. Winding her arm back, the bandit warrior gifted him with an iron-clad backhand and he flopped to the side.
Tossing a leg over his chest, the woman entered full-mount and pushed her las-rifle into his forehead, the wind corkscrewing ominously overhead. He slapped the gun aside just as it fired, atomizing a swath of the terrain beside his face. Driving his knee between her legs, Sinestro kicked the woman to the side and grabbed the barrel of the rifle. As she attempted to pull the trigger he jerked it up and slammed the butt back down on her face, an audible crack signaling a broken nose. Another hit came as she fumbled for the trigger, the errant shot singeing Thaal’s ear.
The ex-Lantern reeled backwards, holding his scorched face in agony. A firm, steel-toed kick to the injury whipped Thaal’s head to the side, a follow up heel shove to the shoulder laying him down flat. Standing swiftly, she lifted her weapon. “This is for Sledge!” she spat and looked down the sights.
His face twisted into a horrible scream, Sinestro removed his hat and flung it at her. The bewildering combination threw her off just long enough for him to sweep her leg and jump up. Stomping her hand, he punched her squarely in the jaw and retrieved his headwear. “Sledge is going to die. Accept your fate or become one of the fallen,” he snarled, baring his teeth. He twisted his heel into her palm as he slid his fingers across his brim and then tugged it down. “You’re facing something you can’t understand.”
“Fuck yourself,” she grunted defiantly. A buckle snapped free, and her free hand slowly lifted up a heavy, metallic orb.
Her thumb depressed a button its exterior and it began to beep. Lifting his foot, Sinestro sprinted away, whistling for his camel to return to him. The woman sprang to her feet and angrily hurled the grenade in his direction before turning and running herself.
A massive shockwave rolled out as the thermal detonator ripped the desert apart, a thick cloud of smoke and dust consuming everything. The morning sun choked on the black, and the shadowy depths of the blast zone were a mystery.
He recalled his time amid the stars, wishing to once again glide upon the stellar winds of his home sector. He longed to feel the power of the universe surging through him once again, in all of its glory, and to be an agent of the ultimate order.
He opened his dry, beaten, dirty, hand and looked down upon it. The memories of what that hand had once held were powerful: a ring, a hand, a future. All that he was, all that he held, had slipped through his fingers.
Once, hope ran blue through his heart. Before he was a lantern, before he was anything, he was a man of history. He had unearthed the vast cities of Korugar’s past, and laid to rest the mysteries of the ages. He had not been the greatest archaeologist, but he had been a good one.
It was in a desert, not unlike this one, that he made his first true discovery. It was a small idol from a civilization thought to be completely lost. It had taken him years of planning, charting out the weather patterns of a plain that stopped existing four thousand years ago, mapping the trade routes made on foot by peasant farmers, analyzing, researching, understanding, before he even picked up a shovel or brush. Within the first month of digging, he found the relic and reopened the entire field of study.
What treasures awaited him underneath these shifting desert sands, he wondered. Surely marvels beyond comprehension hid just below the surface, pleading to be unearthed. The madness of the Omniverse offered nothing less than the possibility of the infinite.
---
The bandit’s M809 war truck slid to a stop in front of the still-burning ruins of the stable, the flames casting a gruesome silhouette of the android’s metallic carcass dangling from the rafters by his own chords. Perhaps this man was somebody she should worry about after all.
She hopped down, rifle already up and scanning. It didn’t appear that there were any survivors, blood and oil everywhere. The horses, speeder and thieves all seemed to be missing though. Growling in frustration, the bandit scanned again for tracks, this time quickly identifying their path of egress.
She must have taken a route just parallel to theirs, passing them on her way to the stable. He seemed to be headed back to town, reinforcing her ideas that he was a law keeper from the Town With No Name. That or maybe a bounty hunter.
Leaping back into the vehicle, she once again picked up the trail.
---
The freshly-broken dawn woke Nelson from his slumber, and all he knew was pain. His leg ached mercilessly, a heavy, pounding ache that throbbed from the sole of his foot through his hip bones. His chest had bled all over him, the ridged, messy angles of Sinestro’s poor blacksmithing burning like the brand was still hot. None of this was to mention his back which screamed out even over his traumatic injuries from having been bend backwards on a moving horse for at least six hours.
He attempted to groan, but his parched throat only managed a helpless gasp. He was dehydrated, and his naked chest had been at the mercy of the elements. He was honestly shocked he was still alive. The only part of his body that he seemed to have any control over was his head, which he allowed to roll to the side. Somewhere out there, he thought he heard something. Something like… a song?
The distant sound of music bled into the air, its enthusiastic rhythm growing louder as a dust trail grew larger on the horizon.
“What in is that?” Sinestro asked aloud, turning to face the noise as he stopped his camel.
The churning diesel roar of the war truck peaked as it careened over a dune, flying into the air like a steel-born Valkyrie. The suspension creaked as the five ton goliath hit the ground, its olive-drab body rocking from side to side as the driver recovered from wild fish-tailing. With all four wheels pointed in the same direction, the smoke stack spewed another cloud of black fumes and the engine barreled onward.
“Holy fuck!” Nelson managed to choke out, straining against the ropes that held him.
With her black dreads flapping in the wind, the woman leaned out of the window and leveled her laser rifle at Sinestro. With a gasp of surprise, he leapt from his saddle and rolled, a beam hissing by and narrowly missing his head. Two more shots turned the red sand to black glass as he scrambled to avoid her attacks. The korugaran franticly withdrew his rifle from its holster on his mount, slapped the animal’s hind leg and yelled, “Hut!” The camel moaned and ran off at a frantic pace, dragging the horse and speeder behind it.
Dropping down on one knee, Sinestro cracked off a shot into the windshield of the oncoming war truck, a web of cracks spreading. The driver accelerated as two more bullets fractured the glass, charging heedlessly towards her opponent.
Sinestro sprang to the side as the five ton ploughed through, the monster of metal and grease streaking close enough that he could taste the exhaust. The woman dove from the open door of the truck as it passed, tucking and rolling when she hit the ground. She toppled head over heel before she landed on her feet, weapon raised and ready, sand pouring from her armor like water.
Red snaps of energy seared the earth as Sinestro tumbled forward fired his long gun again, her armor twanging as the force threw her off balance. Throwing his weapon aside and charging forward, Sinestro tackled his attacker at the waist, slamming her into the ground mercilessly. Winding her arm back, the bandit warrior gifted him with an iron-clad backhand and he flopped to the side.
Tossing a leg over his chest, the woman entered full-mount and pushed her las-rifle into his forehead, the wind corkscrewing ominously overhead. He slapped the gun aside just as it fired, atomizing a swath of the terrain beside his face. Driving his knee between her legs, Sinestro kicked the woman to the side and grabbed the barrel of the rifle. As she attempted to pull the trigger he jerked it up and slammed the butt back down on her face, an audible crack signaling a broken nose. Another hit came as she fumbled for the trigger, the errant shot singeing Thaal’s ear.
The ex-Lantern reeled backwards, holding his scorched face in agony. A firm, steel-toed kick to the injury whipped Thaal’s head to the side, a follow up heel shove to the shoulder laying him down flat. Standing swiftly, she lifted her weapon. “This is for Sledge!” she spat and looked down the sights.
His face twisted into a horrible scream, Sinestro removed his hat and flung it at her. The bewildering combination threw her off just long enough for him to sweep her leg and jump up. Stomping her hand, he punched her squarely in the jaw and retrieved his headwear. “Sledge is going to die. Accept your fate or become one of the fallen,” he snarled, baring his teeth. He twisted his heel into her palm as he slid his fingers across his brim and then tugged it down. “You’re facing something you can’t understand.”
“Fuck yourself,” she grunted defiantly. A buckle snapped free, and her free hand slowly lifted up a heavy, metallic orb.
Her thumb depressed a button its exterior and it began to beep. Lifting his foot, Sinestro sprinted away, whistling for his camel to return to him. The woman sprang to her feet and angrily hurled the grenade in his direction before turning and running herself.
A massive shockwave rolled out as the thermal detonator ripped the desert apart, a thick cloud of smoke and dust consuming everything. The morning sun choked on the black, and the shadowy depths of the blast zone were a mystery.
![[Image: sig2.jpg]](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v288/KrimTheUnsettler/sig2.jpg)