Roll20 uses cookies to improve your experience on our site. Cookies enable you to enjoy certain features, social sharing functionality, and tailor message and display ads to your interests on our site and others. They also help us understand how our site is being used. By continuing to use our site, you consent to our use of cookies. Update your cookie preferences .
×
Create a free account

Hadron

Feb 19th 202? Zentraedi Battle Cruiser designation “The Cook” Officers Sparring Room “Your skill is impressive Kyra!” Hadron grimaced as he nursed his arm.  The swelling was already beginning due to their sparing being vicious and full contact.  There was no malice, this was true Zentraedi combat, focused, powerful and efficient. “I train sir. The Micronians and the Praxians have martial styles common to their races, I integrated elements into out own.It has proven effective.” Kyra replied.  “That sir and the frequency of out training has led me to become familiar with your fighting style”. “There is predictability in my actions?  A flaw, one that I shall need to address!” Hadron exclaimed with embarrassment, recollections of his first hand to hand combat defeat to Xander surfacing yet again.  He was not accustom to loosing, the shame of that defeat had been a bitter pill indeed. Yet his duty to the troops stationed under him overshadowed such feelings. “More prominent if you are unfocused Sir. Perhaps you require release.” Kyra stated flatly. “Release? I do not understand what you are….”A scarlet blush creeping up his neck due to embarrassment. “ Kyra …I…Well.” “It has… Worked for you previously.” Kyra replied factually. “I find myself more focused for several days after one of our wrestling sessions.”  Wiping sweat from her brow, Kyra straightened from a fighting stance, this session was clearly over. “ Hadron , I understand your reservations. Initially, on learning of these acts, I too felt nauseated. However, the focus that once can achieve in the days afterwards, far outweighs individual feelings.” Straightening himself, Hadron realised to his embarrassment, that THIS was the issue. Feelings. Far more than sentimental attachment, like a warrior to his preferred weapon, he felt something for Kyra . The revelation shook him, as too the understanding that she would not, could not, possibly feel the same way. “Very well, perhaps you are correct. Let us utilize my quarters for this session, I need to ice my arm anyway, and there are facilities to sanitize ourselves afterwards.” Hadron submitted. “What is wrong with me? Why am I actually looking forward to this?”he pondered, maybe the focussed state of mind that he would achieve afterward might shed some light. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “What are these messages?” Kyra stood, silhouetted by the light from the sanitation cubicle, peering at the scrolling messages on the Commanders Interface terminal.Oblivious to her nudity, or the look on Hadrons face as he ran his eyes over her form. “Sir?” “Just ghosts from the past, messages unanswered from last time we were in this system.” Hadron replied waving a hand dismissively at the terminal. “This is not the first time this vessel has been in this system. Over a year ago this vessel was tasked as part of an emergency formation to extricate a Robotech Masters Mothership. The Invid had tracked them here, they were under sustained assault. We engaged, provided the distraction required for the Grand Masters to escape, but the resulting damage was too severe.” “You were abandoned in system?” Kyra asked turning from the terminal, perhaps just a hint of concern in her voice. The stain of shame, of potentially becoming Non-Combat casualties, ingrained collectively as one of the Zentraedi’s greatest concerns. “Losses were significant, radiation leaks were killing the men, we were declared casualties.The messages were automated by old system surveillance satellites, data collection. Wanting to determine our status and how long it would take us to perish.”Hadron spat, irritation and disgust adding a harshness to his words that he had not intended.“ Ignore them, messages from the grave.” “Some of these time/date stamps are recent, are you sure?” Kyra pushed back. “Look if you must, they restarted not long after we re-entered this cursed system.” Hadron grunted pushing himself off the bunk and pacing swiftly to the sanitation cubicle. Written in Zentraedi, Kyra quickly reviewed the first message. Her mouth going dry as she reached the bottom line. She opened the next, running back up the list with mounting trepidation. Overall the theme of the messages was the same. Another new message popped up, just as Hadron emerged from the cubicle, wet pale blue skin glistening. “Enough, turn that off!” He demanded, reaching out to shut the screen down. Viper fast, Kyra reacted reflexively, striking a nerve cluster in his arm. The knee to his ribs, that sent him crashing onto his bunk, however was correctly aimed and intentional. “YOU ARROGANT, BRAINLESS, FOOL!” Kyra spat, rage and venom in her voice making Hadron flinch more than the pain lancing from his possibly fractured ribs. “I WON’T GO BACK THERE; YOUR INACTION HAS KILLED US ALL!” Bellowing with rage she struck the room door control and fled down the passage. Looking down at their crumpled uniforms strewn around his room, Hadron winced in pain as he struggled to the terminal. MAINTENANCE RECALL Flashing intermittently on the command screen as a preparation counter cycled in to the red stage of a 15 minuet count down.
Arcturus Space --Salvage Operations Vessel: Worm Gear-- “Looks like she is back again Capn" a scrawny karbarren youth called out from the communications desk. Puffing away on a cigar, lounging in his recliner, the captain merely grunted in response. Shaved and Dangerous, the new magazine for the discerning Karbarren man that he was reading was far more interesting than dealing with this crap. “Sir, um, Uncle Joe? She seems pretty darn insistent.” The young Karbarren stammered. “Who bloody cares Tuk’Tuk , we don’t answer to the likes of her…” The Captain trailed off. “So… how long she been out this time? Air scrubbers in that suit of hers must be nigh on taxed out.” Uncle Joe'Tun scratched his chin with his broken, unkempt claws. “Could be, that we find ourselves in a better bargaining position this time, ask what she got ta trade?” Switching to a rather sketchy pigeon form of Zentraedi, the Karbarren youth did his best to communicate with the warrior floating before their view screen.  It looked to be the same woman as last time, though her robotic armoured machine was far more beaten up than before.  A bundle of scrap parts roughly bound together, almost twice her size, floated nearby. “She says weapons, armour and electronic devices, I think?  We got to let her in Uncle Joe , she might run out of air and we could get in trouble if they find out we refused to help her!” Tuk’Tuk stammered in panicked concern. “Captain, you call me Capn when we be on the bridge ya dumb cub. Curse the Forgebear , not hard ta remember is it?” Captain Joe'Tun growled between clenched teeth. The taste of the cigar becoming foul in his mouth. His underlying distaste for the Zentraedi race was magnified by the fact that they permitted woman to enter their warrior cast. “This creature should be at home, whelping cubs. Needs to know her place.” He growled lowly. “Fine, she has no head for business anyway, trades will be in our favour. Let her into hanger two.” Battered and scratched, the now familiar Queadluun-Rau armour of Kyra Rothgar floated serenely into the hanger bay. Kyra cautiously glanced at her power armour oxygen gauge as the hanger doors began to close. Idly she traced a fingertip over the Master Armed button for her power armour.  This Karbarren captain was unpredictable, apparently consumed with hatred for her race or what they represented. During previous trades, he made no attempt o hide his contempt for her, a trait that she was discovering was all to common these days. Should he change his plan, choose to refuse her offer of trade, let her die slowly as the Carbon Dioxide in her suit poisoned her, well he would be making a grave mistake. The old Zentraedi warrior code, dictated death in combat, Kyra still held to some of those views.  Any actions that compromised her mission would be an affront to the unit. A traitorous act that must be dealt with in the harshest of terms, lest the insurrection be permitted to spread. “Captain, Uncle Joe! It's not worth the risk playing games with this one!” The youth cried out in a panicked voice. “What could you even know ‘bout setting up a trade or barter?” You ain't seen manhood yet, haven't taken a woman, what life experience do you have?”  Joe'tun replied snidely, taking his time to savour the last puffs of his cigar.  The Zentraedi deserved to suffer, tools of oppression, of the old order when the Robotoech Masters ruled with an iron fist. “There are stories about this one, disturbing stories.” Tuk’Tuk cried out,” I don't think it would be wise to give her a reason to....”  The hanger bay door had finally closed some ten minutes earlier, yet Kyra's sensors indicated that the hold had yet to be purged with air. The blinking O2 alarm of her suit transitioned to a deep red. “So be it!” Kyra whispered aloud. Thumbing the loud speaker, she stabbed a finger down on the Master Armed button. The suits guncams and CVR would capture these final moments. “I Kyra Rothgar , declare your actions to be traitorous to the unification of worlds. You intentionally have hindered a warrior of Detachment Ghostbear who came to you in good faith.” “Weapon systems have powered up!” Tuk’Tuk screeched in fear. “It's a fucking bluff!” Joe'Tun roared, flicking his cigar butt through the zero gravity to hit Tuk’Tuk in the snout. Fear and Anger washed over Tuk'Tuk , his metal gravity boot had smashed into Joe'tuns face before he even realized what he was doing. In the Zero G environment, his Uncle tumbled out of his chair and crashed bodily into the wall.  Catching himself using the command chair, Tuk'Tuk stabbed a clawed finger down on the oxygen purge icon. “Why you Whore son... “ His Uncle raged behind him. Grenade Launchers in the suits chest whirled up to speed. Kyra began goosing her targeting icon over structural beams. With her dying breaths she would see this vessel shredded.... Flurries of ice crystals marked the passage of air into the hanger bay as water vapor froze on contact with the vacuum atmosphere.  The ships emergency systems fighting to establish life support within the hanger. Slowly, Kyra’s Fingers eased away from the weapon triggers as the sensory systems within the Queadluun-Rau armour determined that the external environment held enough oxygen to support life. Cracking open the faceplate access sections, she fought the urge to gasp in the fresh air that flooded into the cockpit…. “You offer less than our previous barter, I have brought you armour and weapons of similar weight. What has changed Captain Joe’tun ?” Kyra inquired angrily. A handful of armed Karbarren workers flanked her, weapons held securely, tensions were still high. “There have been some command changes, Joe’tun no longer runs this ship. I am happy to enter into new agreements with you however.” Newly appointed Captain Tuk’Tuk replied through swollen lips. Thankfully the speaker system of these older space suits distorted his voice, disguising his nervousness. Technicians scrambled over the Queadluun-Rau armour , servicing and repairing what damage they could.  Assisted by the low gravity environment, the repairs progressed well, perhaps more thoroughly than last time, Kyra observed. “They are as eager to have me off this vessel as I am to leave.” Kyra mused.  “So, why the lower exchange for the weapons component of this barter?” “Markets are changing, armour and electronics salvage can fetch a good price. The exchange rate for weapons have dropped since the announcement of peace.” Captain Tuk’Tuk replied somewhat bewildered. Surely this was common knowledge. “My unit has been operating with a communications lock down.” Kyra lied smoothly, she needed more information and there was no way in hell that she planned to reveal the current military situation. “Oh, sorry. I see.” Tuk’Tuk replied, childing himself for not realising that this warrior was some sort of special forces agent. Similar to the ones that they had started showing on TV. “Well it’s all over the news stations, all anyone is talking about really.” Tuk’Tuk replied excitedly. “The Invid fear the New unified armies of the Sentinels.  The stunning victory that your people helped us secure for Karbarra, has forced them to beg for peace!”
NICE MAN!!!!!