Post by Phrozin on May 15, 2014 21:00:36 GMT
Phrozin’s Datalog Entry #1: Quelling the Rebellion
Citizens are uproarious.
Always unruly. Always. They’ll rebel to just about anything, even though they are nothing more than insects ripe for the squashing. Mere stains on the ground of their worthless planet, really. So what is it about them that makes them so agitated? They demand freedom, but freedom from what? The Lord’s reign? Do they not see that we keep the peace? Would they rather have renegades do with their villages what they please? A few innocents died. But they were examples, not martyrs. No one dies an honorable death in a pointless revolt. You’ll find the details of the mission in the attached debriefing files, along with the recorded names of the dead.
Needless to say, the rebellion ceased. But these people have always shown to be soft. They would not rebel on their own, someone must be pushing them. They were armed, but not with anything worth noting. Their strongest warrior approached me, which was a surprise, I’ll admit, but even then he was no match for my strength. I found signs, though. Clues. This will require further investigation…
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Citizens are uproarious.
Always unruly. Always. They’ll rebel to just about anything, even though they are nothing more than insects ripe for the squashing. Mere stains on the ground of their worthless planet, really. So what is it about them that makes them so agitated? They demand freedom, but freedom from what? The Lord’s reign? Do they not see that we keep the peace? Would they rather have renegades do with their villages what they please? A few innocents died. But they were examples, not martyrs. No one dies an honorable death in a pointless revolt. You’ll find the details of the mission in the attached debriefing files, along with the recorded names of the dead.
Needless to say, the rebellion ceased. But these people have always shown to be soft. They would not rebel on their own, someone must be pushing them. They were armed, but not with anything worth noting. Their strongest warrior approached me, which was a surprise, I’ll admit, but even then he was no match for my strength. I found signs, though. Clues. This will require further investigation…
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The day was hot in the small village of Pickar. The people, humanoid, orange-red creatures that adorned decorative jewels dangling from their necks. The star which the planet orbited was very intensely hot, burning the atmosphere into a thin layer of what it once was. Phrozin’s men needed helmets and protective gear, but he - along with the villagers - were fine. Couldn’t even feel the heat, he would say. Or, well, think. Phrozin doesn’t say much. It was uncomfortable to stand in the midst of many people in this situation, though. Before him in a large semi-circle were angry, yelling civilians. In a semicircle behind him were a handful of soldiers, brought with Phrozin to deal with this crisis. Two of his soldiers stationed here were taken by surprise and brought down, but it couldn’t have been by these people. They all argued and whooped and howled at Phrozin, who stood at about half their height, but he never truly heard them. His eyes scanned the group, the village around them, the dead soil and the cracked ground below.
Something was off.
A rock flew at his head, and he caught it with ease.
His gaze slid over to the thrower, a dirt-covered young man of no more than teenage years. His jaw dropped, and he couldn't find it in him to move, to get away. Not that he could ever hope to escape, of course. Phrozin narrowed his eyes, and soldiers moved forward, happy to do something now that the people had thrown the first punch. The yells rung out for a few moments as he was beaten, and then all hell broke loose. The citizens wanted something to rebel to? Then Phrozin gave it to them. But will they like what they have wished for? That's another point entirely. The townspeople rushed forward, hoping to achieve something. Petty fools. The soldiers clashed but, naturally, they couldn't hold off every single revolutionary. Phrozin closed his eyes, his arms calmly behind his back. Simpletons, the lot of them. Looks like he'll be handling this himself. He rose a single arm, and from it a blast of Ki as black as the night burst forth into the sky, colliding with the tallest building in the village. There was an explosion, and the wall caved in, drawing their attention yet again. It was very easy to herd these beings, Phrozin thought. He couldn't have been the only one doing this...
He opened his eyes again, and lifted his chin. They were all looking at him now, watching. Waiting for the next command. Because, as it didn't take Phrozin long to discover, as much as these people apparently hated their rulers, they wanted very much to have one. But that is quite a conundrum - what could be making these people restless? It has to be some other influence, one outside of the Lord's own. Terrorist groups, probably. But what was the point of using such a weak species? Just as he had made that thought, a hulking brute of the aliens lumbered out of the building he had targeted. More muscular than any of the crowd-members, it was obvious that he was a warrior of some sort. Large gauntlets covered his hand, dazzling in the intense sunlight. Phrozin wondered how hot it would be to put those on in this climate. The warrior wore a hard expression, his eyes fixed on Phrozin. The people parted as he slowly made his way over, and Phrozin didn't move. He simply watched, hands behind his back, as it approached. His soldiers rallied, but in a surprisingly strong blow, it knocked two of them right off of their feet. Ugh, worthless... Phrozin needed fighters, not punching bags. The brute towered over Phrozin, standing only inches away from him, casting a long, deep shadow. But his stare was no match for the Arcosian's chilly glare, which would have been enough even to cover this planet in a thick layer of ice.
Not that they were about to let that happen. Rearing up, a massive fist was flung at Phrozin's head, with speed he'd never expected from a common villagefolk, but still nothing too serious. He rose a hand to block it, catching the large knuckles in his own tiny palm, but slid back a few inches, carving deep into the ground. Their arms shook as they pressed each other's might. This formed an inquisitive expression on Phrozin's face - how was he this strong? Things suddenly got fishy, but he had no time to contemplate it, as the warrior readied his other fist. Sadly, for him at least, Phrozin was more than prepared. He spun around his arm as it made a wide arc, surely aiming to slap the head off of his body, and came to an abrupt stop with his leg forced into the lower back of his opponent. The alien let out a howl as his body contorted backward, stunned temporarily. Phrozin casually walked around him, never taking his eyes off of him but being aware of the crowd fixated on them. It became obvious that this fight was unexpected - he was not meant to fight this man, at least, as far as the villagers knew. Phrozin knew better, though. The peons in the village were not as big a part in this than they might have been lead to believe.
The fighter regained his balance and got up on a single knee before Phrozin whipped around and slammed his shin into his face. Like a rag-doll, he nearly flipped over, his head lodging firmly into the ground with small ruptured stones surrounding it like a cradle. Phrozin was sure that he would not be getting back up. After his victory, Phrozin cracked his neck and faced the crowd once more. He blinked, and then tossed a few Ki Blasts into them. He was sure he hit a handful of people, but it didn't matter, as long as they all fled. His soldiers joined in, but in the blur of chaos, Phrozin spotted something. There was a being standing the hole of the building he'd attacked before. He was wearing a long, hooded cloth, obscuring his appearance, but Phrozin knew he was the true enemy here. Still, he did not confront him. Not yet. Not here. The being turned, vanishing into the building, leaving the Arcosian to do the same, entering the large spacecraft they had taken to the planet.
This was not over yet, he feared. But he could do little about it, other than wait and see where the dice land. He would monitor the smaller incidents like this himself for the time being, try to see if he could isolate this person again. Who are they working for? What is their purpose? It was time for Phrozin to collect bodies once again, and with determination he left the planet to its chaos, off on more pressing matters.
Something was off.
A rock flew at his head, and he caught it with ease.
His gaze slid over to the thrower, a dirt-covered young man of no more than teenage years. His jaw dropped, and he couldn't find it in him to move, to get away. Not that he could ever hope to escape, of course. Phrozin narrowed his eyes, and soldiers moved forward, happy to do something now that the people had thrown the first punch. The yells rung out for a few moments as he was beaten, and then all hell broke loose. The citizens wanted something to rebel to? Then Phrozin gave it to them. But will they like what they have wished for? That's another point entirely. The townspeople rushed forward, hoping to achieve something. Petty fools. The soldiers clashed but, naturally, they couldn't hold off every single revolutionary. Phrozin closed his eyes, his arms calmly behind his back. Simpletons, the lot of them. Looks like he'll be handling this himself. He rose a single arm, and from it a blast of Ki as black as the night burst forth into the sky, colliding with the tallest building in the village. There was an explosion, and the wall caved in, drawing their attention yet again. It was very easy to herd these beings, Phrozin thought. He couldn't have been the only one doing this...
He opened his eyes again, and lifted his chin. They were all looking at him now, watching. Waiting for the next command. Because, as it didn't take Phrozin long to discover, as much as these people apparently hated their rulers, they wanted very much to have one. But that is quite a conundrum - what could be making these people restless? It has to be some other influence, one outside of the Lord's own. Terrorist groups, probably. But what was the point of using such a weak species? Just as he had made that thought, a hulking brute of the aliens lumbered out of the building he had targeted. More muscular than any of the crowd-members, it was obvious that he was a warrior of some sort. Large gauntlets covered his hand, dazzling in the intense sunlight. Phrozin wondered how hot it would be to put those on in this climate. The warrior wore a hard expression, his eyes fixed on Phrozin. The people parted as he slowly made his way over, and Phrozin didn't move. He simply watched, hands behind his back, as it approached. His soldiers rallied, but in a surprisingly strong blow, it knocked two of them right off of their feet. Ugh, worthless... Phrozin needed fighters, not punching bags. The brute towered over Phrozin, standing only inches away from him, casting a long, deep shadow. But his stare was no match for the Arcosian's chilly glare, which would have been enough even to cover this planet in a thick layer of ice.
Not that they were about to let that happen. Rearing up, a massive fist was flung at Phrozin's head, with speed he'd never expected from a common villagefolk, but still nothing too serious. He rose a hand to block it, catching the large knuckles in his own tiny palm, but slid back a few inches, carving deep into the ground. Their arms shook as they pressed each other's might. This formed an inquisitive expression on Phrozin's face - how was he this strong? Things suddenly got fishy, but he had no time to contemplate it, as the warrior readied his other fist. Sadly, for him at least, Phrozin was more than prepared. He spun around his arm as it made a wide arc, surely aiming to slap the head off of his body, and came to an abrupt stop with his leg forced into the lower back of his opponent. The alien let out a howl as his body contorted backward, stunned temporarily. Phrozin casually walked around him, never taking his eyes off of him but being aware of the crowd fixated on them. It became obvious that this fight was unexpected - he was not meant to fight this man, at least, as far as the villagers knew. Phrozin knew better, though. The peons in the village were not as big a part in this than they might have been lead to believe.
The fighter regained his balance and got up on a single knee before Phrozin whipped around and slammed his shin into his face. Like a rag-doll, he nearly flipped over, his head lodging firmly into the ground with small ruptured stones surrounding it like a cradle. Phrozin was sure that he would not be getting back up. After his victory, Phrozin cracked his neck and faced the crowd once more. He blinked, and then tossed a few Ki Blasts into them. He was sure he hit a handful of people, but it didn't matter, as long as they all fled. His soldiers joined in, but in the blur of chaos, Phrozin spotted something. There was a being standing the hole of the building he'd attacked before. He was wearing a long, hooded cloth, obscuring his appearance, but Phrozin knew he was the true enemy here. Still, he did not confront him. Not yet. Not here. The being turned, vanishing into the building, leaving the Arcosian to do the same, entering the large spacecraft they had taken to the planet.
This was not over yet, he feared. But he could do little about it, other than wait and see where the dice land. He would monitor the smaller incidents like this himself for the time being, try to see if he could isolate this person again. Who are they working for? What is their purpose? It was time for Phrozin to collect bodies once again, and with determination he left the planet to its chaos, off on more pressing matters.