I am at a loss as to why I have been approached to pen these
pages. My art is not in the crafting of words and ballads, yet the Zentraedi
Officer has insisted. I am Jowryyhn , Karbarren Craftsbear and these are my words.
“The actions that build our republic must be collated…” I
think that was his wording, this Xavior . Thus, it is that I find myself
scratching out a tale of the events that have transpired.
I had best start with the events of the taking of the
Saurian mining vessel. Having carefully examined their position, the leadership
of this Zentraedi republic chose to take a proactive stance against the coming
storm. The Saurian race are known mercenaries, yet the stark presentation
of their depravity when I met them… For the record I am compelled to state that
they are without honour.
The Zentraedi and their humans were of the same mind as I. Our
attempts to obtain the necessary minerals and materials through honest trade looked
to be a pipe dream. The Saurian’s , I can only speculate, believed us
desperate. They chose to alter the terms of our deals in their favour.
What they could not know was the nature of this mixed-race
peoples. They would not be as easily curbed as their usual clientele, for they
had been forged on the anvil of conflict and war.
“Forged in both Ice and Fire my brother…” As was told to me
by their lore keeper Beta Ray . An excitable gent, but my….The tails that
he can weave!
I digress. The leaders of this Republic chose a curious course
of action, one that proved to be cunning and multi layered. I admit, there are
elements I still fail to fully comprehend, so I shall speak only of those to
which I was involved. For to my surprise I was chosen by brother Rustfur
to offer my assistance, and the Xander awarded me a place upon his own
team!
We utilized a space manoeuvre that I have not seen before
this day. A vessel, human I suspect, moved us with skilled stealth towards one
of the gargantuan Saurian mining ships. The Saurians had clearly allowed
the ships to fall into a state of disrepair in their pursuit of quick credits
and a degraded section of the lower holds proved to have ruptured. This would
be our access point, though not in any way I had suspected!
“We are going to perform a Fly by” the human woman I
have befriended informed me. Zara has been decidedly respectful to my people
and permitted me to integrate into the work forces. The term was not one I
recognised, there are still many that are alien to my ears, so with deepest curtesy
I asked for clarity.
“Think of it as A game …” Zara replied to me with
smile.
It was a minor miracle that none of our party was injured or
lost to the cold vastness of space. The human spacecraft did not stop, nor did
it dock…it drifted like flotsam or debris in a long arc towards the monstrous
mining craft. Then, Forgebear as
my witness, we leapt into the void!
Let me just say that I am beginning to have some concerns
about these Humans. The Forge-Master, or Master Craftsman as it was explained to me took
a heavy impact against a ragged stanchion, and tumbled into the empty hold. With
the man laying very still, I thought the worst, until a chuckle sounded over
our headsets.
Dusting himself off, Ruckster stood, joining the assembled
team as they moved like clockwork. Silent, professional, it was as though each
member knew or could somehow sense what his fellow had planned. They
made odd signs and gestures with their hands, I am not sure if this was some
attempt to ward off evil spirits or some such custom, but it was a common behaviour
between all.
The mining vessel was old, not ancient, just old; though I
would venture that these fragile little humans perceive it differently to my
race. None the less, the machine began life as a Robotech Masters vessel. For as
I let my eyes wander over just this section of her innards, I could note
distinctive changes and alterations. Ad hock and patchwork, it was the work of
either amateur hand or the efforts of those who held little to no true skill.
Together the Ruckster and I worked an access hatch
open. The frozen hydraulics and servo motors protested, but we managed to
override the inner door and disable any sensor systems. The ice and dust that
sprayed out into the void a sure sign that an atmosphere of some form lay
beyond. Held back, as we discovered by a secondary airlock door.
With great care, and in absolute silence the assembled team
cycled through the airlock two at a time. The waves of scent that hit me, event
through my suite’s rebreather were almost overwhelming. The stench of the
Saurian musk being foremost, yet layer apon layer of smells impregnated into
the very bones of this machine. They added a certain character or personality to
the otherwise mass-produced ship. I realised in short order that that the
vessel bore only the most basic design characteristics to the more warlike
Zentraedi vessels that I had been salvaging.
Prowling, stalking away down the hallway the Ruckster and
the Xander took on the guise and mannerisms of these Saurian workers as though
they were actors. The heat shielding uniforms that they had donned completed
the illusion, provided that one did not look too closely.
I have overheard the humans making reference to what they
call “the theatre of war”...perhaps this if what they were talking of?
Misdirection and spectacle? I can only speak for what I witnessed, which displayed
a mindset most foreign to me. Observing in third person, their plan unfolding
as I studied the pictures transmitted via their helmet cameras.
Alien Protoculture reactors, glowing a luminescent green. Within
swam fat caterpillar like grubs, that the Ruckster declared must have
fed on the flower of life...A look passed between both men, another unspoken
message of some form. Forgebear protect us if these two races have unlocked
the mystic powers of the Perytonians or have their own magics. After but a tantalising brief glance at this
wonderous work of engineering, the two men moved on. This is where I got to witness the Xander
in action.
Silently, like a shadow, he slid into the main passageway. Ahead
a Saurian guard was patrolling toward out position. Rounding the corner, I saw
the lizards otherwise expressionless eyes go wide as it beheld our cohort. The
cry of alarm gurgled and was choked off as a blur of motion wrapped itself around
the creature, pulling it to the decking. I expected to see the lizard’s life
blood oozing across the deck work, to see the life fade from its eyes. After all
the injustices inflicted apon my people, this would have been justifiable
retribution, and certainly a kinder fate than that which Rustfur might
have instructed us to inflict.
Yet the Saurian was not dead, it had not been torn asunder.
The silver shape around it turned out to be that of the Xander , and in a
vice like embrace he held the lizard creature. Physically he did not harm it,
yet the words he spoke unto the guard chilled me to the bone. I have a faulting
knowledge of the Tirolian tongue, yet the depravity that he described…
I might find some small comfort in the fact that none of these
filthy humans have made approaches toward me! They are in season, so to say, at
all times! Their lust drives them mad, should they lose themselves to it,
triggering suggestions of depraved interspecies coupling. That said, the
Saurian guard (Like myself) quickly came to the realisation that there were
fates far worse than death…