Putting out the call

[Skeletor]

“Alright, pal. I’m gonna need you to do something about that face.” Ark spoke, his voice projected by his helmet’s speakers. “We don’t want your little death’s head visage here scarring some little girl.”

Skeletor looked at the Squad leader with an implacable expression, then raised an arm. He snapped with blue fingers and a gaunt mustached face appearing over his skull, its pale skin contrasting sharply with the blueish color of the rest of his skin. The Warlock dropped back his hood, instead donning a brown cap leading to a tapering point. A red feather sticking up from the brim competed the look.

“Is this better, Soldier?” the Warlock asked with a sneer. The Stormtrooper was silent for a while, before his speaker crackled back to life.

“I guess it’ll have to do. We’re on a tight schedule team!”

The Journey across the Nexus was long, but Skeletor was patient, he was still weak from being returned to life by that accursed thing, Omni. He would take some time recollect his power before attempting anything overly strenuous.

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The Stormtroopers escorted Skeletor through the checkpoint, having moved to surround him in as non-threatening a manner as possible. Skeletor walked amongst them, allowing them to encircle him for now. As he walked through the streets he focused, recalling his Havoc Staff and summoning it back into his waiting hand. The Warlock eyed his surroundings with an appraising glance. The spires of Coruscant rose around him, dwarfing even the spires of King Randor’s palace. Truly this new world was one he couldn’t even begin to fathom.

A lesser man than Skeletor would have been humbled by this realization, but the rightful ruler of Eternia was only stoked to greater ambitions. What need he to waste his time conquering such paltry settlements as Darkshire when there were such glorious domiciles as this? The emotionless face of Ro-Man as he thrust his spear through Skeletor’s chest appeared in his mind, and Skeletor gripped his havoc staff tighter. What reason besides revenge, at least.

The air around him was alive with prosperity, of a kind that he had not seen since that tyrannical Randor had been placed in control of the kingdom. Myriad faces and races conducted their business all around him, although his escort of Stormtroopers did ensure he was never blocked by the traffic of people. Up ahead he could see an imposing and well-fortified structure that was most assured the headquarters the soldier had mentioned to him. Skeletor was almost intimidated, as the structure seemed strong enough that he might not be able to escape by the pure power of magic alone.  The Warlock was surprised however, when the leader of his escort veered off suddenly. Stopping in front of a vertical tube, the Stormtrooper tapped and ID card to the monitor and the group piled into one of the many elevators instead.

The Second tier of Coruscant was by no means bad looking. While it lacked the grandiose skyline and spiraling towers, there was a solid presence afforded by the concrete sky above their heads. Skeletor’s suspicions of the stormtroopers only continued to go as their leader lead them down a collection of side streets before the crew split off, forming a perimeter around an alleyway, where Skeletor and Ark entered. Leader of the Stormtroopers knocked four times on a door that seemed to be a side entrance into a barber shop and waited. He looked nervous, Skeletor decided, cloak draped around his shoulders and Havoc staff resting casually in one hand. The Stormtrooper glanced up and down the alley as he waited, before one of the nearby panels sprung to life. Ark stepped up to it, and jerked a thumb at the disguised Skeletor behind him.

“Found one! Not even a freshie! He must of just got rezz’d.”

Symbols danced across the panel as it traced out and recorded Ark and the Prime he had brought. In a short while, a metallic voice answered. “The Resurrection Sickness is still in effect, this prime’s worth is thereby lessened 50% and your pay shall be reduced accordingly.” Another panel slid out from the wall, holding a small silicon wafer marked with the Imperial sigil.

Ark took the chip, but cried in outrage. “You’re trying to rip me off! I got you primes just like you asked, and this one has been through some fighting! He’s experienced!” There was no response from the panel. “You know, I should report you!” Ark threatened with a slight waver in his voice, “The Empire is going to notice if you keep snagging the primes we’re supposed to send their way!”

“Then you would be the one suggesting that the noble defenders of the Emperor would be susceptible to bribes in the first place, Sergeant. You will need to improve the creativity of your threats if you want more of my credits. Send the prime in, and be on your way before somebody spots you!”

The Stormtrooper grumbled but motioned for Skeletor to enter. The Master of Evil remained stationary “I don’t think you understand how this works, Soldier.” Skeletor murmured, his havoc staff sparking with unused power. “I am not some cattle to herded about and traded at market. You said that I was to be brought to your superiors that they might help me gain revenge!”

There was metallic laughter from the door-panel, “Then you were lied to prime. We command nothing but these mercenary’s wallets, and we care little about your revenge. Right now, there is something far more important going on.”

Skeletor cackled, though he was out of breath by the time he finished. How much of his power had death drained away? There was no time for that concern now, he had to press through it. “And what makes you think I care about your little game, you tin-tongued bucket of bolts?”

“Because there is a great power that threatens every verse it touches.” The voice sounded concerned, but Skeletor barely cared, he had ceased to pay attention after he heard the word he was looking for. Power. That was what he needed. That was what would let him avenge his humiliation at the feet of Darkshire.

Skeletor stepped towards the doorway with an intent gaze, “Tell me more…”