Aegis For A New Age {Dev}

[Antoir Setrrin]

844 ABY: The Outer Rim

There was a need for 'heroes'. Perhaps there always was a need for people to step up, to play the role of a seeker of justice. There will always be villains for them to fight. Sometimes, of course, the lack of champions became a serious thing. While the darkness could never fully rid the universe of light, it wasn't uncommon for it to seem that way. As the metaphoric tides of war shifted, and the balance of power toppled over, the quote in quote forces of evil could seem so very, very close to winning. But they never truly did 'win'. No, because there's always a need for heroes. And there will always be those foolish enough to try and fill the gaps. Of course, the heroes never really succeed in their tasks either. One cannot exist without the other, or so they say. Sometimes the bad guys will push the galaxy to it's breaking point. Other times the good guys will manage to seemingly wipe the threat from existence. Oh, if only... Alas it is not meant to be.

Ven'Rain Sekairo knew this well.

Yet still she wished to do everything in her power to push back the Sith. Maybe she wouldn't do much in the end, but still she felt the need to try, if only to get the galaxy a little closer to a balanced state. She knew that she'd probably die trying. Not everyone was going to make it out of the war- not even all of those who had survived the last one. Good, strong people were going to die. Hell, plenty of them already had. Part of her was admittedly saddened by that fact. But the rest of her had moved right past whatever feelings she had, knowing that she couldn't afford the distraction. Her own experiences with death made things easier. Still she could remember the sting of lightning, the smell of burnt flesh, and the taste of blood rising in her mouth. And still she knew the look that had crossed Ashin's face when it had happened. It had been a horrible experience. Yet she had gotten past it, coming back into a new body, marching on almost as if she hadn't been temporarily damned to Chaos.

She'd had help then. Now... well, at the moment she didn't have anyone by her side. When the Protectorate had started to slip away she had bailed, acting as a coward, slipping away into the Outer Rim. Far into the outer rim. Ventasia was off who-knows-where, Circe was out of reach, and Ire was, well... Ire had become an enemy. The Mad Merc was alone. It wasn't a sensation that was new, or peculiar, or troubling to her. Ven knew that she'd need assistance eventually, of course. That's where the other 'heroes' would come in. They'd team up to take down the Sith, one way or another. Though she didn't know who 'they' would end up being. Who could she go to? Were there any people who she still trusted?... People who also trusted her? Something told her that finding a group to work with wouldn't be easy. She had a long history of burning valuable bridges. While the state of the galaxy was desperate, she wasn't sure how many people would be willing to ignore past wrong-doings.

In the mean time she'd have to find a way to make it on her own.
First step? Finally replace that old armor of hers...

 

[Antoir Setrrin]

It had been awhile since she had made herself custom armor. Maybe that was because the last time she had tried, she had ended up with an overly heavy hunk of metal. Nearly two decades had passed since she had forged the suit. Since then she had lost the armor after it was near-completely destroyed in a fight, gotten a new set (designed by Protectorate squints), died in said set, then been brought back to life. There had been more to it, really, but the details felt unimportant at the moment. Not to mention how painful the memories could be. These days, with the war just a day's travel away, the distraction of pain probably wasn't something she could risk dealing with. Just another reason for her to try her hand at getting some new protection. It wasn't her only reason. Avoiding pain was one thing. Attempting to reduce the amount of injury was another. You could deal with pain, yeah, but healing from wounds took time. Time that she didn't feel like she had.

And so the need for armor was evident.

Ven started working the moment she decided that she was going to create her own suit. Preparing for the actual process was the first step, obviously. Luckily her ship, The Far Reach, had more than enough room for a make-shift forge. Procuring the necessary equipment was what gave her a bit of trouble. For the most part, at least. Some of the tools were easy enough to acquire- such as work gloves, safety goggles, ear plugs, and a decent respirator. Those were just the basic things needed to keep one safe while working. The actual utensils used in making the armor were what proved to be difficult to get a hold of. Finding an anvil of moderate quality had taken her a few days of in depth searching. While she didn't necessarily need a specific sort of construct, finding a true anvil felt important to her. So she had looked through the holo-net, attempting to find nearby smiths. As it turned out, finding people who still did things 'the old way' wasn't to hard in the outer rim.

With that found there had just been a few more things to add to her collection. Next she had ordered a few vices to mount onto her workbench. Those hadn't been hard to find, per say, but getting them delivered to her had been irritatingly difficult. Almost as gut-wrenchingly miserable as finding the right array of hammers and prongs had turned out to be! Ven had (apparently) underestimated just how many different types of the same basic tool there were. In the end she had simply purchased quite a few, hoping that she'd get everything she needed. If not... well, there were still plenty of credits left in her bank account. Though some of those had later been spent on purchasing metal cutting saws, drills, grinders, and some welding equipment. One of the last things she acquired was arguably either the most or least important thing on her 'grocery' list: A legitimate forge. Nearly a week had been spent locating the materials needed to create a fully-functioning hearth.

But when she had finished the construct and taken a step back... she knew that the sweat of her brow had been fully worth it. And with everything she needed to get to work set up, it was finally time to get out the metal.

 

[Antoir Setrrin]

Snow rushed down in a flurry around them, nearly blinding them in an unforgiving, relentless assault. As they made their way to the mines they could feel the cold start to get past their armor. Both of the Protectorate commanders were starting to feel the chill, the air slipping into their helms. It almost felt like their lungs were going to freeze long before they ever reached the cave. Perhaps Ven was fairing better than Corek, however, considering the underlay of her armor was fairly thick. Yet still she felt the winds whip against her. Icy flakes kept covering her visor, forcing her to wipe at her face over and over again. She couldn't wait to reach the caverns.
"The cold never bothered me," she had said, unaware of how bad things were actually going to get.

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Acquiring the phrik had been an interesting 'adventure'. An old friend of hers, Noah Corek, hand requested her assistance in something. Without even asking what he needed she had gone to help him out. A few days had been spent traveling, the two of them casually catching up, platonically making up for lost time. After awhile they had reached the planet of Seltos. Ven hadn't known anything about the world. Perhaps if she had known about it she would have at least brought a winter coat. Instead she had been stuck in her Caedo armor for a long trek through frozen land, trying not to let the cold get to her. Though reaching the Phrik vein hadn't actually taken that long, the experience had been unforgettable, and seemingly lasted for hours. Just thinking about the icy world made goosebumps rise up on the mercenary's arms. Yet as she started moving her slabs of the metal towards her workbench, she couldn't help but think back on the day, remembering the amusing interactions she had with Corek.

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Entering the mine had been a dangerous thing. Due to the temperamental weather, the entrance was slippery, black ice hidden among the rocky opening. Despite the clear dangers, both of the Protectorate members had proceeded. Corek, the senior officer, had activated a flare and thrown it into the center of the chamber. The light that had been given off hadn't been much, but it had been enough to let Ven set up a few smaller lights. Once that was finished she had gotten to work, using a pickax while her companion used lasers. She had always preferred using her brute strength for things- especially after the Vong Horde had turned her into a giant beast of a woman. They worked together for some time, building up a grand rhythm.

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Still she could recall the beat their tools had made against the rock. Their semi-serious work had quickly devolved into something that felt like it came straight out of a holo-film. Both of them had started singing mining songs (though 'belting out words' probably fit the woman's actions more accurately) as they worked. For a while they had practically competed to see who could sing the loudest without abandoning their duties. In the end... well, she couldn't quite recall who had won their unofficial vocal contest. But she did remember working for at least an hour in the mines, swinging away at the rock, removing chunk after chunk of stone. Eventually she had gotten tired and had switched to using a laser for a bit. Unsurprisingly her stubbornness resulted in her picking the pickax back up, though. After a long day the two had gathered up an impressive amount of raw material. And though they had to do further work to separate the phrik from the rest, they had gathered up roughly two-hundred-thirty kilograms of stone.

Which Ven had so wondrously 'offered' to carry back on a sled.
Now she grabbed what remained of her portion of the goods, carrying it to her workbench.