Sarge Potteiger
Emotional Damage
It wasn't often the Syndicate failed to take out a target. It was even less often that said target was a Jedi. But the irony of this was that the assassin hadn't failed - a headshot was a headshot. But, anyone can survive anything if they're stubborn enough: rage is a hell of an anesthetic, after all. Still, with Sarge's reawakening he was being called in to clean up.
As always.
The planet of Dac had been repopulated after it's destruction, and had been returned to it's former glory. Security was still tight though, the Gulag Virus still fresh in everyone's mind. Thankfully, Sarge could avoid security. Kicking his feet, he swam through the waters outside one of the floating cities, his suit making sure he had more than enough air to breath.
Red visor glowing faintly against the dark reaches of the planet's oceans, the assassin drifted slowly upward under the dock. Shifting his armor's priorities, he activates the visor to scan for thermal signatures on nearby docks. The suit picked out any and all important data it could and highlighted anything of potential importance with the help of the droid AI it had built into it. It was a fair assumption to make that the suit was the reason he was as successful as he was; it was something he'd admit.
He simply wasn't experienced enough on his own to truly be able to accomplish tough missions like this without the suit's help. "Where are you...", he breathes out softly, voice echoing within the confines of the suit.
The target had just regained consciousness not too long ago - his face had shown up on one of the Syndicates video feeds and been flagged as a massive 'what the ****'. Drifting out from beneath the pier, two metal hands reach up and pull the heavily armored man up and out of the water.
Making sure the coast was clear (no pun intended), he begins making his way towards the docks exit. Already, the AI had hacked through the local comm net security and was working on the local vidcams. They were all protocols written by Ayden over the past few centuries, and they served him well for operations like this.
The hunt was on.
As always.
The planet of Dac had been repopulated after it's destruction, and had been returned to it's former glory. Security was still tight though, the Gulag Virus still fresh in everyone's mind. Thankfully, Sarge could avoid security. Kicking his feet, he swam through the waters outside one of the floating cities, his suit making sure he had more than enough air to breath.
Red visor glowing faintly against the dark reaches of the planet's oceans, the assassin drifted slowly upward under the dock. Shifting his armor's priorities, he activates the visor to scan for thermal signatures on nearby docks. The suit picked out any and all important data it could and highlighted anything of potential importance with the help of the droid AI it had built into it. It was a fair assumption to make that the suit was the reason he was as successful as he was; it was something he'd admit.
He simply wasn't experienced enough on his own to truly be able to accomplish tough missions like this without the suit's help. "Where are you...", he breathes out softly, voice echoing within the confines of the suit.
The target had just regained consciousness not too long ago - his face had shown up on one of the Syndicates video feeds and been flagged as a massive 'what the ****'. Drifting out from beneath the pier, two metal hands reach up and pull the heavily armored man up and out of the water.
Making sure the coast was clear (no pun intended), he begins making his way towards the docks exit. Already, the AI had hacked through the local comm net security and was working on the local vidcams. They were all protocols written by Ayden over the past few centuries, and they served him well for operations like this.
The hunt was on.