Wall of Fire

[Angel]

Greg rubbed his eyes as he walked towards the meeting he'd called of the entire remaining Laika crew. They'd been on this planet for the past two days and they had been the most tiring two days of his life. He'd had to deal with the semi hostile Lupo. At first they'd been treated like prisoners and only careful manipulation and maneuvering on their part had improved that status to something above prisoner but certainly less than welcome guest. It probably had more to do with the fact that they needed him and his crew more than anything else but he would take what he could get.

Greg walked towards the group ahead of him and could hear the soft background noise of chatter grow steadily louder. Besides for the few who'd he'd taken to the camp with him, most didn't know what had transpired at that meeting and the subsequent meetings with the Lupo leadership and most didn't really need to know. Greg himself was not even sure how much of the local politics he grasped though the message that he'd crashed smack dab into the middle of them had come across loud and clear. Whether he wanted to get involved in these people's problems seemed to be a moot point. He was, they all were.

It seemed the local boys had gotten themselves into a spot of trouble when they'd gotten on the bad side of the latest warlord of this planet. Oh, they'd made it sound prettier than that, lots of righteous indignation about how he'd usurped power and such, but it boiled down to the same thing. Some guy had declared this planet is personal play ground and was trying to shove his authority down everyone else's throat. His seat of power was some city on the other side of the globe but in a global, space capable society that wasn't all that far away. He'd convinced one of the other groups close by to side with him and now Greg was stuck with the losers of that equation, the ones who'd been getting their asses handed to him by the warlord's allies.

He'd thought about trying to find this other group and try to talk to them but the fact was the Lupo still had most of his people, including the wounded, and he wasn't quite ready to leave them behind. Besides, there was no guarantee anyone on this planet was any better than anyone else. He was better off with the devil he knew than the one he didn't and at least these people hadn't shot his ship down.

So he'd agreed to hear them out when they'd asked for help. A bunch of the other cities had finally gotten their act together and were planning a rebellion and they saw a golden opportunity in the form of the foreigners. The warlord was sure to come after them since he was interested in all things off world and that meant Greg and anyone else with him could probably get much closer to the guy than anyone else. The deal was simple. Kill him for us and we'll fix your ship. If only.

He hadn't seen any indication that they could fix his ship though they promised they could if they took power back. And, further, there was a very real possibility that they would die trying to kill this guy, which he wasn't interested in. But he wanted to get everyone else's opinions so he'd decided to call a meeting. He wasn't very democratic as a rule but this seemed like a good enough reason to ask for advice. Especially because, if they did do this, he'd have to ask for volunteers.

"Alright, crew," he said as he walked into the circle of light cast by the lamps set up. "Seems we got some talking to do."

---

The Laika: Your ship has crash landed on a hostile planet. You've been "invited" to enjoy the hospitality of the local Lupo city state and they've revealed that they are in a war against the man who shot you down. Along with some representatives from allied city states, they've asked you to agree to serve as their assassins to kill the man who shot you down. Time is short. They are planning an offensive and want Saif, the dictator, taken out before or during their uprising.

Your captain has called a meeting of the entire crew that is being held in the valley where the wounded were taken. Unbeknownst to him, his passive power of healing has helped speed the recovery of all the wounded over the past two days (at his expense) and many of the worse off are now walking around.

The meetings has begun and he's explained the situation to you. He's asking for opinions and advice but how long will the meeting last? The valley isn't completely secure and enemy forces have been spotted in the area.

[Bartelby]

Bartelby had a headache.

The past two days had been a nightmare. Between dealing with the locals and trying to keep his cover, Bartelby had hardly had a moment to let his mind rest. He had been with the captain for some of his informational meeting, but not all of them. So now was the first time he had gotten the entire story, and that wasn't helping his mental faculties in the least.

To Bartelby, it seemed their main choices were to accept the Lupo's proposition to assassinate this Saif guy and get sent to his land. Or they could refuse, wait around as prisoners until Saif finds them, then get taken to his land anyway, but as prisoners for him as well. If they survived long enough, that is.

So pretty much Bartelby wanted to suggest they all become assassins. Except he couldn't. He was supposed to be convincing these people he was a holy man and holy men are against things such as assassinations. But the real Bartelby, the one under all the layers of deception, was a guy who wanted survival more than anything else.

He briefly considered dropping his guise, but quickly abolished the thought. Admitting he was a fraud now, even if indirectly, would be far from an aid to his survival.

Instead he would need to be a little creative.

"Ahem. My good captain, if I may be so bold." Bartelby stepped to the inner ring of the circle from his place on the shadowy outskirts. He was wearing his typical robes and carrying his staff. He tried to hold a dignified posture as best he could.

Addressing the entire crowd, he spoke. "We may have gotten ourselves into a bit of a pickle here. We are outnumbered on all sides and our allies are barely such. Our situation is brutal, confusing, and not in the least ideal." Bartelby looked at the people and saw a couple nods in agreement.

"Now I have no delusions that everyone here is a religious person. In fact, I would venture to guess that most are not. But please bear with me as I quote a line of scripture from one of my tomes, as I feel it has grave significance when applied to our situation."

Bartelby cleared his throat as he made up a line to say. "For when the plant is pruned, do not weep. A moment of pain allows a century of beauty."

"Now I know you might be wondering what that means. And I will tell you. It means that cruel or painful events must sometimes occur for a greater beauty to be realized. It pains me to say it, but I believe we may be in just such a situation."

Bartelby took a step back into the side of their circle then, having finished his ordeal. He trusted that at least some of the crew members would grasp what he was trying to say. And hopefully they would not fault him for it.

[Deux]

Deux spun his good blade in his right hand rapidly. He kept his eyes focused on the spot the captain had been when he was speaking. When the man had asked for volunteers his jaw had tightened. While the captain was probably unaware, it had been insulting. All he needed was the order and he’d willingly take care of the man the Lupo wanted killed. At the same time he wasn’t certain how he would take care of him. If the man was so important he was guarded and Deux didn’t know enough about the planet’s culture to move about unnoticed. Still something told him the Lupo would help get him where he was needed seeing as that it was in there best interest.

He half paid attention to Bartelby’s words, they came in and out of focus as he stared. Bartelby was right about not everyone in the crowd not being religious, Deux had never really given much thought to the matter of gods. They were to abstract for him to consider for to long, better to keep them as stories from the books he read.

Unclenching his jaw Deux glanced down at the blade in his hand. As it shifted into the different positions he’d been taught he felt more sure of himself. While he didn’t want announce it of the crew, he knew he would speak to the captain later.