Lower Deck

A basic area of the Space Station. Perfect for Hide and Seek battkes.

Hours after XenoM-1's first appearance....

Cloudy. Clouds were bad in the world of dreams. Xeht knew from experience that when their were clouds, something was wrong. He reached out to find it's source. "Not here," he said finally. XenoM-1 was nowhere near him or his friends.

He found it. He couldn't see it clearly. It felt like his own species. Lots of them, more than 30. All of them Predaliens. The problem was that they were all unable to control themselves. It was like they were in a trance of some kind, vulnerable to the influence of... someone, very vaguely familiar someone he had met for a very brief instant. Someone who liked to collect and control other creatures. Ki-... Ki-... King Gohjees?

He snapped awake, glancing over at his friends, who were in seperate bunks. Still sleeping, still dreaming. He didn't want to wake them. It had been the first time any of them had gotten any rest for days. But this required his help. His help alone. He stalked out of the room, ran to the boarding deck, and took off in a small, one man fighter such as the Jedi had used in the Clone Wars. Once he had flown a few miles, he looked in the review mirror. The ISS was still visible. He would return shortly...



After he freed his brethren.

He punched in the quardinates of the planet that had appeared in his dreams, and went into lightspeed.

Lower Deck. All is quiet.


Nothing moved. Hardly anyone comes down here unless their is a problem. Nothing was there now, no problems needed to be fixed, noone was their to see the energy field forming. Lightning struck out from what appeared to be a designated center of a hallway, in the middle of the air, striking the walls. A sphere of energy appeared, small at first, but expanded at a quick rate. It melted through some of the pipes on the walls that were too close. Then, it and the lightning dissappeared. In it's place stood what looked like a man.

Alarms buzzed in the surveilence room. "What's happening?" asked one man. "I don't know!" said another. "Alarms are going off, indicating malfunctions in the Lower Deck!" They rushed off with a repair kit.

They found nothing there expet a few melted pipes, and a portion of the floor was burned away. As a whole, the damage seemed to have been done in a spherical fashion, precise inflictions. Their was no way this was an accident. They stood their in awe of the perfectness of the destruction. It wasn't like anything they had ever seen before.

One of the two workers felt movement behind him. He spun on his heel, and was releaved to find only a human their. It was a big, muscular man, and it was staring directly into his eyes without emotion. Without even blinking.

He spoke. "I need your shoes...pants...shirt... Give me your clothes."

"I'm not giving you my clothes!"

"Now!"

The matinence worker puched the man in the stomach, only to break his own fingers. He screamed. His friend only turned and ran. The man punched him back, driving his fist into the person's chest. The worker died. The man took his shirt, having known to reach under his shirt before punching him or else it would be useless to him, his black, leather jacket, his shades, and his black, long pants. Finding no weapons on him, the man simply turned away and left for the main deck.