The Golden Star

[Thaal Sinestro]

The deputy rushed back into the town, between the bullet-addled structures and into the crossroads just across from the military vehicle. His eyes narrowed as they met with the driver’s, and he whipped the lever down to cock his rifle. Grinning, the familiar bandit twisted the volume knob on her cassette player, the screaming guitar filling half the city. She revved the engine heavily, the stink of fuel filling the air as the two continued their overwrought stare-down.

Making the first move, the bandit slammed down the pedal, the truck’s wheels spinning furiously before it launched forward down the street past the worn store fronts. Hutting, Sinestro drove his steed forward and began to fire, prodding holes through the windshield of the oncoming juggernaut.

The bandit barely flinched as the glass spidered, cracks crawling outward as more bullets sprayed through it. Caret screamed as one of the bullets cut a deep gash in the woman’s cheek, blood pouring down her face and chin. Still she drove on, none of the determination faded from her eyes. As the glass became impossible to see through, the bandit lifted her rifle, maneuvering it over the wheel, and fired. The windshield erupted in a blast of heat, smoke, and melted glass as the laser beam fired through. Suddenly able to see, the dilapidated pillars of the local General Store consumed her view. The woman swerved hard to right her path and slammed on the breaks, Sinestro riding past and behind her, still cracking off shots as he went.

Slamming her hand down in frustration, the bandit jerked on the wheel, sending the massive craft into a power-slide. With her foot slammed down on the gas, the two rear wheels spun wildly on the dirt road, the wicked oversteer of the truck whipping it around a hundred and eighty degrees, facing the fleeing ungulate and its rider.

A storm of tossed gravel and sand flew down the street as the bandit and her truck ran down the deputy, quickly catching up to him and his ride. Squinting and lifting her head to see out of the hole that blasted wind into her face, she aimed her las rifle with one hand, balancing it on the dashboard. She gazed down the sight with one eye, slowly squeezed the trigger, and grinned with sadistic glee.

With a cry of pain, the tortured beast crumbled into the rocky ground and tossed Sinestro from its back, the saddle and the various satchels splaying out in every direction when it hit the ground. The deputy hit the ground and rolled, transferring as much of the impact into motion as he could, eventually sliding onto his back and shuffling out of the way. The truck didn’t stop, the wounded camel still gurgling in torment when the fat tires rolled over it, ending the creature’s pain in an instant of blood and terror.

Sinestro’s heart unexpectedly jumped as his sole companion in the wastelands was snuffed out, pain both emotional and physical wracking his body. He looked to the animal with some hope that it had survived the impact, but its flattened body lay unmoving, an almost impossible stillness overtaking his loyal companion’s form. Silently, he faced the truth that the animal was dead and there was nothing he could do to bring it back.

Suffering quickly turned to anger as he pulled himself to his feet and grabbed his rifle and hat from the dirt beside him. Slamming a few more rounds into the side of the weapon, he swung the lever and began to fire madly at the bandit’s vehicle, each bullet harmlessly deflecting from its steel exterior.

“Come on!” Sinestro yelled at the swerving military vehicle, “COME ON!” Another series of rounds zinged from the armored truck and he blustered in frustration at the impotence of his weapon.

The behemoth jerked into a turn once again, fishtailing back in his direction. As the truck roared back towards the deputy, his muscles tightened as he prepared himself to leap out of the way. His teeth grit as the vehicle drew closer and closer, his grip on his rifle getting tighter and tighter. Suddenly, the wheels locked with a squealing of the breaks, the craft turning as it slid to a stop, the driver’s side door now facing Sinestro.

He steeled himself in the stagnation of the moment, the air haunted by the sounds of the battle. Seconds ticked by as he stared at the door, a stiff breeze blowing through the street, the brim of his hat wavering as it passed.

The door swung upon and immediately a torrent of fire was exchanged between them. Bullet rebounded from the side of the truck and twanged offer her armor, jerking her back and forth with every hit. Red beams incinerated patches of the road and blew through one of the tall, wooden beams that supported a store front overhang, all while the deputy leapt from cover to cover.

The bandit’s skull-painted face was cold and unfeeling, her movements tactical and calculated. The exchange seemed more of a dance than a fight, flashes and thunder of their weapons giving the ballet a grand score and rhythm to move to. Glass shattered, metal bent, blood ran.

Crouched behind a large, water-filled cask that was set beside a roadhouse, Sinestro frantically fumbled with his bullets and the rifle, carefully peering out from behind his cover. The powerfully-built woman sprinted across the street, taking advantage of his reload to move. She slid into place on the other side of the building, only offering a shot at a sliver of her face and the end of her laser rifle.

The final bullet entered the lever-action, and Sinestro took a deep breath. Exhaling, he stood quickly and turned, his rifle already cracking off a shot by the time he had exited the cover. The bandit fired, and a huge chunk of the barrel exploded, warm water pouring out the corner in a haze of steam and burning wood. Another bullet bit into the bandit’s cover, and another crackling blast of energy screamed wide of the deputy’s head. Shifting slightly, the bandit fired a third volley, hitting the center mass of the barrel which erupted in a blast of planks and hissing water.

Sinestro fell backwards with a heaving breath, feet and hands scrabbling as he tried to regain his footing in the wet, slick mud and stabbing particulate of the barrel. Pushing the advantage, the bandit sprinted from the edge of the building and kicked the remainder of the shattered keg to the side. Sinestro began to pull his mud-soaked gun up, but the woman’s heavy boot slammed it down. With a sneer, she pointed her weapon at his and pulled the trigger, thousands of degrees instantly scorching the ancient lever-action rifle into little more than a mound of melted steel.

“Got any last words, you punk-ass, little man?” the red of her weapon glowed in his face once again. A curled lip and a hateful glare was all that answered her. “Alright, if that’s all you-“

“Bandit!” Caret shouted from across the street, “Look out!”

The woman looked up and saw the sheriff’s figure lifting up his pistol just in time to jerk back. The shot still managed to clip her, ripping off half of her ear and painting the wall with her blood. She reeled back and kicked in the door of the building, leaping into it as another blast from Roland’s powerful revolver sharply glancing off of her armored thigh.

The woman slammed up against the wall beside the door and winced, half of her face covered in the gore of her torn ear. She sucked her teeth and looked around herself, finding a bottle of whiskey below the counter. Carefully kneeling down, she grabbed the bottle and pulled the cork out, spitting it on the ground. Putting the smooth glass to her lips, she drew a long drink from it, the alcohol burning her mouth and throat as she swallowed. The grainy, woody flavor twanged in her mouth sharply, and she couldn’t help but to make a sour face as it made its way down.

“Come now, bandit! Surely ye don’t hold any fear for death, lest ye wouldn’t be scurry’n bout my town!” Roland’s powerful voice boomed, the presence of his anger apparent.

Breathing heavy, the bandit dumped some of the brown liquor over her ragged appendage, stomping her foot as it bit into her bleeding flesh. “I ain’t afraid to die, but I ain’t dumb either!” she shouted back. “That deputy of yours has gone and gotten his ass beat twice, so I’m starting to wonder why you keep him around!”

Roland slowly made his way forward through the town, glancing back and forth as he searched for another threat, but his gun was always pointed at his target. “His sins aren’t your concern, harrier. Come on out and we can share truths as equals, you and I.”

“Equals?” she shouted haughtily, “We ain’t never been equals, you Prime mother fucker!” The bandit ejected the energy clip from the bottom of her weapon, tossing it into her drop pouch, grabbing a fresh one and reloaded. “Your kind has never been an equal to ours!”

“Is that what this is about, then?” Roland asked, pausing behind a large sheet of concrete that supported the water tower. “I cry your pardon for the sins of the one who wronged you, but these people don’t deserve your hate. You have forgotten the face of your father.”

Balling her fists in anger, the bandit took a deep breath, the scent of the whiskey filling her nose. She exhaled, the faint dizziness of the booze finally hitting her and allowing her to temper her rage. “I told you, you stupid fuck, I don’t HAVE a father!”

“Who was it that created you then?” he calmly asked as he scanned the street, slowly fitting together a plan.

“Who the fuck knows,” she said, a hint of pain in her voice, “I just showed up one day, just outside of town, no clothes, no weapons, nothing! All I knew was that I was angry, and that I was smart. Must have been the some extra in some dumbass Prime’s dream, that’s how I see it. He thought a little too hard about me and had an accident in his sleep, made a monster from his dreamland real.” Shaking her head, she put on another smile, “Well now I’m back, but this time I’m not some fucking background filler! I’m not some accident! I’m a nightmare here to put some holes in the dreamer!”

“You won’t get that change, I set my watch and warrant to it,” he replied, his tone now less angry but more firm with conviction. Roland’s eyes narrowed, assured now of his path and the need to destroy the woman. His long coat fluttered as he sprinted from his hide into the street, his revolver held high, waiting for an opportunity to take a shot.

“Caret!” the bandit screamed, and the pink-haired girl rose up from behind the walls that lined the bed of the truck, grasping the handles of the Gatling gun. Roland’s eyes went wide as the spinning barrels rained down a torrent of super-heated plasma all around him, explosions of heat buffeting him as stones and gravel were super-heated to explosive temperatures.

Instantly the gunslinger stumbled to a halt, holding his arm up to his eyes as the searing heat and explosions battered him, just barely able to stagger out of the path of each oncoming bolt of energy. Swearing to himself, he managed to double back on his path and get behind the water tower’s dense stone base.

Stepping out from the door, the bandit held her rifle high and began to lay-down crossfire on the sheriff’s position, forcing him to hunker down as the twin energy weapons tore into the concrete base that he hid behind.

Reaching into her pocket, the bandit retrieved a large, metallic sphere with a large red button on its top. She slung her rifle, stepped into a throwing stance and depressed the button. “I beg pardon, fucko,” she growled and hurled the sphere towards the base of the tower. The heavy item flew sluggishly through the air, the flashing red top beeping madly as it soared. Sinestro had gotten to his feet just in time to try and turn and run, remembering the object from their first encounter.

Roland’s arm swung around the concrete pillar, his dead eyes unblinking, time hanging still. His finger squeezed the trigger, the hammer fell, and the bullet struck the thermal detonator mid-flight.

The explosive erupted mid-air, a torrent of flame and pressure blasting all four of the combatants in opposing directions. The windows of every building on the block shattered as the shockwave blew outward, peeling away weak boards and stripping rusted nails. The bandit was flung back into the door of the sop, the paned glass door crumpling inward and catching her. Smoke and debris filled the air, concealing the fate of Roland or Caret, and Sinestro was nowhere to be seen.

Blinking, the bandit strained to see and tried to banish the ringing from her ears. She shook her head, the tangy, metallic scent of ozone overwhelming every sense but the buzzing numbness of adrenaline. Groaning, she gingerly pulled herself out of the doorframe, shards of glass tinkling as she dragged herself upright.

Looking around, she waited for any sign of a fight and pulled one of her misaligned chunks of armor back into place. “Yeah,” she scoffed when nothing moved, “that’s what I thought.”

A guttural scream cried out and Sinestro charged from the swirling smoke, taking her by surprise. He tackled her at the waist, slamming her back into and through the broken panes of the door frame. As the two combatants hit the floor, he postured up and slammed his open palm into the side of her bloody ear and face, the other arm holding her weapon hand down by the wrist.

“Nightmare!?” he screamed, his blood-spattered face contorted into a ghoulish shape, “You don’t know anything about nightmares!”

The woman’s free arm swung up and impacted his chin, his head wobbling in a haze form the impact. “Jackass,” she said, smearing her own blood over her cheek with the back of her hand. She struck him with another firm punch as she began to sit up, laying him down on the floor. “I’m not gonna argue fucking semantics with you.” She managed to get herself to a standing position after a few wobbling steps and then stepped forward and drove her steel-toed boot into his ribs. “I’m here to kill your dumb ass, not exchange quirky one-liners.”

She looked around the ground and located her rifle, lifting it up. She turned it from side to side, noticing a few sparks crackling from one of the panels. She gave the trigger a test pull, and nothing happened. Shrugging, she threw it to the side and slammed her fist into the opposing palm. “Though, if we’re honest, I do have some good ones.”

Sinestro groaned on the ground, holding his undoubtedly broken rib with his hand. Rolling to his side, he slowly put his hands on the floor and got himself into a kneeling position, the bandit calmly watching over him as he did so. Her white skull had been smeared by sweat and a long streak of blood that originated at her still-leaking half-ear. He recognized the stain and the bullet hole in her shirt, knowing it had come from Roland the last time she had beaten him. Furrowing his brow, he clambered up, finally standing in front of her.

“That’s right, get up and fight,” she said tauntingly, her myriad injuries and bullet wounds going almost unnoticed. She swayed back and forth for a moment, rolling her neck back and forth and allowing her long dreads to sway. Her fists balled up beneath her gauntlets and she brought them up in front of her face. “You got some crazy, alien bullshit kung-fu you’re gonna bring? You got some kinda mind powers or some weak-ass shit to try and fuck with me?” Grinning, she shook her head, “Cause none of that shit is gonna work. I’m gonna win, and I’m gonna beat you to death. I’m gonna beat you to death with my own two hands, and I don’t need a damn thing else.”

Sinestro pulled offer his poncho and threw it to the side, revealing his blood-stained button-up shirt and the golden star that rested on his chest. His hazel eyes glowered as he slowly lifted his hands, a tug of pain forcing him to wince half-way through the movement. “I’ve killed a hundred fighters better than you,” he hissed as his foot slid back into a long stance.

“We’ll see,” she snapped back with a smirk.

A half a beat later, the powerful woman swung her arm in a broad haymaker towards his face, and he brought up he guard to catch it. The blow staggered him and even with the block he was almost thrown off his feet.

Darting forward, he cleared a stiff jab to her chin followed by a heavy cross, his dry knuckles opening her lip up in a small spurt of red. Her head leaned back as a third punch whiffed by, her arms forming up in front of her head. Sinestro stepped over with a powerful straight as she backed up, his knuckles cracking on the metal forearm guards. Sinestro stepped forward with a swinging kick, the bandit shifting her elbow to partially block the strike.

He stepped back from the counter, light on his feet and the woman uncovered, settling back into a strong boxing stance. Sinestro moved forward, but step kept the gulf between them wide, circling around the open area of the store. He gave a bit of chase, tossing out an easily intercepted kick, growing frustrated with the gap between them.

The korugaran charged forward, with a strong right hand, but the bandit suddenly changed her backwards movement forward, stepping into the hook and throwing forward a straight, slamming it into his nose. The man’s charge, her step forward and the strength of the punch mingled into an astoundingly powerful hit, flattening and breaking his nose in one shot. His punch went limp as he legs fell out beneath him, flopping harmlessly off of the side of her head as he crumpled into her.

Woozy, the deputy pushed himself off of the woman’s chest, only to catch another hook to the temple when he was far enough away. The man reeled as the world spun around him, barely able to put a hand out as he hit the floor.

The bandit stepped over him, immediately in the dominant position with her feet on either side of his hips. Grinning, she cracked her bloody knuckles and said, “I would say that was disappointing, but I really didn’t expect much from you.”

She lifted her boot and planted it on his neck, not with enough force to instantly crush his windpipe but as she slowly applied pressure, his breath became more and more labored. “Without your friends, without your little pea shooter, without any tricks or gadgets, do you know what you are?” the woman said softly but assuredly, Thaal’s hands raking on the leather of her footwear. “Nothing. You are nothing.”

Darkness slowly crept into Sinestro’s vision, the sharp treads of her shoe cutting into his skin. The throbbing ache that covered his body slowly began to fade. His fingers grew weaker and slower, his last attempts at survival dying along with his breath.

Still, in his mind, he struggled. He strained, commanding his will to hold on, refusing to relent in his fury or desire to fight. Green flashed in his eyes, the old battles of his sector flashing through his memory. Will, conquering all.

As the light grew dimmer, and his thoughts began to flutter away, something else crept into his mind. Something he had not felt in a long time. Something he had not allowed himself to feel since he had come to this place, ever since he had left that fountain.

Fear.

Terror, true terror slithered through his mind, eroding the will that had allowed him to fight, gnawing at the determination he had used for so long. It devoured him whole, drenching his very essence in the golden light of Fear.

His heart pounded as his adrenaline coursed, his fingers went numb. One last ragged, terrified breath was sucked through his lips. Somewhere, in the distance beyond the blackness, he heard a scream. A scream that grew louder and louder, and soon he realized he recognized the voice.

Sinestro’s eyes snapped open, his irises blaze with yellow light. He throat burned as he roared out a blood-curdling shriek, and his fists balled at his sides. He gripped the fear that coursed through him, pulling it tighter and tighter into his chest until it was all that he could feel. Golden light filled the room, casting looming silhouettes of the bandit against the wall behind him, the scene of his own death staring back at him from the shadow.

Throwing his fist forward, the light congealed around his finger in a single, glowing band of yellow, slowly condensing and solidifying into a single shape.

Yellow flame burst up from inside of Sinestro’s clothing, the flames instantly burning through his clothing, devouring them in in silence and revealing a form-fitting black and yellow uniform beneath. A shimmering aura surrounded him, slowly pushing the bandit’s boot off of his neck and lifting him off of the ground.

A massive beam of yellow shot forth, piercing the roof of the building and crossing the horizon with its brilliance. Silence filled the room.

The bandit slowly removed her foot, staring down with both of her hands at her sides. An opening, just about the size of a bullet, had pierced her chest right through the hole in her shirt where Roland’s bullet had passed through before. She stumbled a few steps back into she hit the wall, blood flowing down the wood and pooling around her feet.

Staring at the injury, she slowly smiled. The smile turned into a grin, and the grin in laughter. Soon, the Bandit With No Name was cackling, red flowing down her shirt and out of her mouth. She looked to the sky, her fingers curled at her side as she howled at the sky.

Her sight fell upon the opening in the roof, the red eye of the sun staring back down at her. She smiled, tears now streaking through the makeup and the blood, letting her vision go white as she felt the cruel heat of the desert one last time.