Side Quest: Planet Fesce (Open)

Since departing Earth in search of the telepath Barracuda told him about, Frostbyte had periodically heard a strange voice in his head, guiding his course through space. The closer he got, the louder and more insistent the voice grew. He was sure this was the telepathic influence Barracuda had told him about, and its source was the individual he sought. That, or he was going mad from the long bouts of isolation his exodus had forced him into. He preferred to try and ignore the latter possibility.

The Arcosian's pod hurtled through the asteroid belt skirting a star system. Moving at impossible speeds, he guided the vessel towards a blue-green dot that was slowly growing in the viewport. It was a habitable planet which - according to the dubious starcharts he'd purchased at a refuelling station in the outer spiral arm - was named Fesce. Autopilot was doing most of the work for him, as he tried to ‘center’ himself.

He wasn’t really sure what that meant; 'center yourself'. But he knew he might have to defend against some sort of psychic attack. He'd spent hours getting himself psyched up, trying to gain some confidence that his mind would be unassailable. That he was indomitable.

An insistent beeping sound snapped Frostbyte out of his reverie, drawing his attention to a proximity alarm. The pod was getting close to impact. This time, he wanted to take a more stealthy approach. He killed thrust, bringing the spherical ship to a halt. Opening the hatch, he leaned out and raised a hand to activate his scouter, scanning for any high power levels in the area.

His head turned slowly, methodically taking a read of his surroundings. Before long, he had something: two power levels in the 2000s range. Not a patch on his own power, but certainly well above the average on most planets. As he read the data on his eyepiece, he could hear the strange voice in his head.

"Come to Shroom..."

"If you insist," he said as he ducked back inside the pod, guiding it gently down to a clearing.

Keeping his power level low, he buried the pod under a heap of tree branches, before setting off downriver in search of the two high power levels. He glided along, just above the treeline, heading towards a situation full of unknowns. If one of the signals he'd picked up was the source of this psychic calling, then they were not alone. He would have to be cautious in his approach.

Stopping a few hundred meters short of his targets, he dropped below the jungle canopy. Creeping closer in complete silence, he eventually reached the river's edge. There, he could see a ship. Three figures stood outside it, their backs to him. One was a flamboyant-looking humanoid with bright golden hair. He and the other humanoid clocked in at 2,000 and 2,500 respectively on the scouter, accounting for the two readings he'd homed in on.

Between them stood another figure, hooded and cloaked. His power level was reading only 5, but just looking at him gave Frostbyte a faint sense of something like vertigo. He was no detective, but that one certainly had the look of an alien telepath. He decided to go with his instincts, stepping out into the open.

The trio certainly were a bombastic group. Shroom, evidently, was the hooded figure he’d suspected. He was a curious figure - almost looking like a storybook witch carrying a familiar. He practically ignored the other two, focused only on Frostbyte and the animal he was carrying.

The other two were almost a comedic duo - one flamboyant and bold and the other reserved and stoic. The blonde-haired one got in his face, making a lot of noise and talking a lot of nonsense. Frostbyte cocked his head towards him and regarded him silently, save for the artificial rhythm of his breathing. He resisted the urge to smack the fool upside his head. Then the other spoke up, in terms he found more understandable.

“How heavy is my hand?” He said, looking down at one open palm, flexing his fingers. Something was wrong. He could feel an intrusive sense of… Something. An alien feeling he’d not felt before. He suppressed a surge of panic; as he realised this was probably the telepathic influence he’d heard about really getting to work. His breathing began to slow, his eyelids drooping.

He could hear Shroom, within his mind. He asked him to kill, to kill for him. The sound of the Namekian’s words reverberated to the corners of his consciousness. His eyes fell closed, everything went dark. The tendrils of Shroom’s thoughts melted away into the background as he turned his own thoughts inward. His whole body sagged a little, as air wheezed its way out of his respirator at a rattle.

“Can I kill?” Frostbyte responded, his eyes locking with Shroom’s now as he stepped closer. He stopped suppressing his ki, sending out currents of energy as he revealed a hint of his true potential. Red light began to ripple and flicker like flame around him as his ki built. His slack body suddenly arched back violently, arms tensed and fists clenched, toes digging into the ground.


“I can kill,” he said, leaning back down to their level and wagging a finger in Shroom’s face. His voice was booming now, causing a grating hint of audio distortion as his cybernetics struggled to handle his new form’s expanded diaphragm.

“Maybe I could even kill for you.” He said, stepping back and resting his hands on his hips. “But what’s in it for me? What do I get?” Frostbyte rubbed his chin theatrically, giving Shroom a sly, sidelong look. “You came here for a reason. You want my help? Then I get a cut.”

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