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Going Native: Taste of Death
🕑 Added 2019-10-28 16:01:27 +0000 UTC
“Father,” Vegeta started hesitantly, a nutrient bar pausing before it entered his stomach with the other thirty he ate as an after spar snack. He shifted in his seat, his cape serving as a convenient cushion, trying not to look up at his father. Instead, he looked out at the great stretch of desert that served as their training ground.
Dunes that towered over hundreds of feet above them, easily two oozorus tall. Some were flattened, collapsing from the ferocity of their spar, or vanishing entirely. The air shimmered from the heat, his brow soaked with sweat alongside his undersuit. Vegeta would sooner bite off his tongue before he complained, though.
“Yes, my son?” Father returned, tossing the core of a colorful fruit into his mouth before swallowing it whole. “Speak your mind. Hesitation is unbecoming of you.”
Swallowing his nervousness, Vegeta straightened his shoulders as he spoke clearly. “Why did you allow that low-class trash to take my brother?” He asked- no, demanded! He was the prince of all saiyans, he asked for nothing!
His father glanced at him, revealing a deep cut over his eye. Dried blood covered half of his father's face -- his father was more excited over the wound that he managed to give him than Vegeta was. “He is not your brother,” he reminded lightly, causing the younger Vegeta to scowl as he looked away.
Vegeta chose not to argue the point, his father having refused his demands to acknowledge Tarble as elite-class. Regardless of how little sense it made. Raditz, one of his squadmates, was considered mid-class with a power level of 750 just because he was born with one over 100. And apparently that was somehow impressive. It was ridiculous. Tarble’s royal blood showed — barely out of the tank and he already had a power level nearing 700. It wouldn’t be long before Tarble left that long-haired jumped up trash behind altogether and he would still be called low-class. As if their father could produce offspring so weak.
“Why did I allow it?” His father echoed, grabbing another fruit from a basket that the servants delivered. He gave Vegeta a long look, a frown tugging at his lips. Vegeta hastily looked down, suddenly finding his bloodied knuckles so very interesting. Even still, he gave a shallow nod, confirming the question.
“Because it gives me the chance to get rid of Bardock.” His father answered, earning a puzzled look from Vegeta. He knew of who his father spoke of. There were few who didn’t. Bardock was expected to rise to the mid-level within a few years, in addition to being the father of a mid-class, however weak Raditz might be. Not to mention the technique he created recently.
“Bardock?” Vegeta repeated, not expecting that. What did he have to do with anything? “If you need him to be disposed of, I can-”
“No, you cannot, my son.” Father denied, eating half of it in a single bite. “There are times when you can’t take action directly. This is one of those times.” Vegeta scowled, his face twisting as he swallowed his retorts. That made no sense. If Bardock needed to die then why not just kill him?
“Bardock put himself out on a limb with this stunt. With any luck, it will break underneath him and send him straight to hell.” His father mused, a savage grin on his face as he finished the fruit with another bite.
Vegeta didn’t understand, feeling like he was missing something but too afraid- no, not afraid. He feared nothing! He was too...cautious to ask his father what he meant.
However, his father seemed to sense his confusion. A disappointed sigh escaped him, it took everything that Vegeta had not to flinch at the sound. “Vegeta, would do you think would happen if we killed Bardock?” He asked, adopting a cold tone that meant his father expected him to have the answer ready.
He didn’t. The obvious answer was that they lost a halfway decent low-class warrior, but in his experience, the obvious answer wasn’t the one that his father was looking for. When he didn’t answer, his father huffed, clearly disappointed with him.
“Bardock is rather famous amongst the low-class. He fathered a mid-class warrior, he holds one of the highest successful mission records in Frieza-force history and he did it all with a power level below 5,000.” His father explained as if he were telling him the answer, but Vegeta still struggled to understand what he was getting at.
What was the worst that could happen? Bardock might have some talent as a tactician -- enough so that his father had him study some of Bardock’s mission reports, but tactics were nothing compared to power. Vegeta knew he could kill him in an instant.
“It is not who Bardock, but what he represents is why we cannot act against him, my child. He is the hope of the low-class. He is proof that they can rise above their station,” Father said, smirking at my sneer. Those worms thought that climbing to mid-class would somehow mean they weren’t trash. It was pathetic. And hilarious. “I agree that it’s ridiculous, but the low-class need that hope. Otherwise, they would get...ideas.”
“Ideas?” Vegeta echoed, not liking the sound of it.
“They are complacent because they believe they can rise above their station with enough effort. However, if they see that their hope is executed, they will doubt if they could become more than they are. If they doubt, then they will rebel.” His father explained, draining a water container in a few gulps.
“...so?” Vegeta hesitantly asked. So what if the low-class rebelled? It could be fun crushing a rebellion.
“It would be annoying. We would have to catch and make our own food and clean up after ourselves.” His father stated with a huff, sounding irritated by the thought of it. Vegeta grimaced, feeling much the same. He looked down at the nutrient bar in his hand, trying to imagine making it with how own two hands. He didn’t know where he would start.
“We could just replace them with slaves,” Vegeta ventured, finishing off the bar. That might be a good idea. Getting rid of all the trash that cluttered up the saiyan race, leaving behind only the strong. It would be fitting.
His father shrugged, grabbing another fruit. “Most races aren’t strong enough to survive on planet Vegeta. Those that can are too expensive.” He said, chuckling when Vegeta tsked. He reached out, running his hands through Vegeta’s hair as he continued. “My point, Vegeta, is that blunt force is not always the answer. You possess many gifts, the most important of them is your mind.”
Vegeta didn’t agree and his father knew it. “King Vegeta the First knew this back when the truffles still lived and this planet was called Plant. We were stronger physically, but they had numbers, technology and supplies. For ten years we fought against the truffles, the longest war in our history. It would have been over much sooner with our defeat if King Vegeta the First wasn’t a brilliant strategist.”
Vegeta knew the story. Every saiyan did. His ancestor used ambush tactics to weaken the enemy, and only fighting in pitched battles when victory was certain and overwhelming. It all accumulated in one final battle when the full moon came that only appeared every hundred years, finishing the truffles.
Despite himself, Vegeta saw his father's point. Even still… “Why does he have to die?” He asked, earning a pat on the head of approval for asking the right question.
“Because he may not be a threat now, but he will be. His team is comprised of some of the most promising warriors, all of them could raise to the mid-class. All of them loyal to him.” His father explained, making Vegeta clench his jaw in outrage. They were loyal to a low-class warrior instead of their king?! “In time, they may all become mid-class, provided that none of that class die during the war, the mid-class will be comprised of nine that are loyal to me with five loyal to him.”
“Four?” Vegeta questioned with a frown, opening up another nutrient bar. Not counting Bardock, there would only be four of his team that would be mid-class within a few years.
“His son, Raditz.” His father answered, earning a poleaxed look from Vegeta. How did that make any sense? Low-class saiyans didn’t have families, not like the elite. They didn’t need them, so why would Raditz pick his father over his king?
His father ignored it, though, choosing to continue the lesson. “It would be a civil war. We would crush them, of course, but we would inevitably take losses as well. Worse, it could summon Frieza’s attention.” His father made him look up at him, his expression grave. “And should Frieza decides that he prefers Bardock over us, we will be slaughtered.”
Vegeta’s blood went cold at the thought of Frieza. Their meetings were few, but each one left an impression. Never before had he met someone that could so...effortlessly kill him. He didn’t deny his father’s words, knowing that they were true. Suddenly, the indirect approach made much more sense.
“That is why I agreed to his request to go on that mission. Tarble, as talented as he is, will most likely die. He simply isn't ready. It is a waste, but his death gives me justification for Bardock’s execution and will more than make up for it.” His father finally answered his original question, a satisfied smirk on his face. Either he was pleased with the plan he made or because Vegeta understood the lesson in full.
He only saw one problem with it. Tarble said that he wouldn’t die.
Vegeta believed him.
…
Everything was hazy, my head felt like it was full of cotton, my ears stuffed with it as well, while my eyes were glazed over. I blinked once, twice, then a third time to clear them, dimly aware that I felt the wind on my face. Despite trying to keep them open, my eyes drifted back shut, sleep trying to claim me again-
I woke up when my face slammed into the ground, my body hitting so hard that I bounced. A grunt escaped me on the second landing, the shock quickly leaving, replaced with overwhelming pain. My entire body ached, every muscle feeling like it was stretched like taffy with countless scrapes and burns that covered me.
“Ughh,” I groaned, forcing my eyes open as I threw myself onto my back, looking up at the night sky. What happened to me? Did I get my butt kicked by the saibamen again? A better question might be why I was seeing lights up above -- a bright white light almost the same size as the sun before it expanded outwards explosively, a white ring marked the perimeter of...of...a moon...blowing up.
“Uh,” I started, staring up stupidly as everything hit me all at once. The mission, my role in it- a hand went up to my chest, feeling a groove where the blade cut through my armor. There was blood, but it was dried. Feeling the wound itself, to my shock, I felt that it was healed. No fresh blood, no pain or anything.
A surge of adrenaline helped me get to my feet, ignoring my body's screams for me to stay down. I kept my eyes to the sky, searching for another moon, only to find traces of their destruction. The moons were gone, meaning no Blutz waves, meaning no oozaru form...which meant that we were on a hostile alien planet without the ability to steamroll over them.
A weight settling in my stomach, I tore my gaze away to search my surroundings for a hint of where I was and for my team. I stood in the smoldering remains of a building, rubble surrounding me that still burned uncontrollably. Destruction stretched far beyond me -- it was impossible to tell from this angle, but the entire city looked like it had been flattened. It looked like a scene ripped right out of hell.
“Ugh,” I groaned, straightening out my body as my mind raced. I needed to find the others. Destroying the moons was one hell of an opening move to a counter-attack, so how would they follow it up? Normal soldiers were useless against us, so that could only mean they would use scarabs. Throwing their slave-soldiers by the handful would be wasteful, and too much. No, I would send a vanguard unit -- they were already stronger than us, and, while I couldn’t speak for the others, I was spent.
A sound brought my attention back to the sky, the sounds of a faint woosh, almost like the hymn of a-
Through the smoke emerged a half dozen space ships, a compact design, with its wings wide wings dipping down and curving inward. Dark orange lights marked its front and back -- from the angle that they descended, they almost looked like a creature than a spaceship. My admiring was cut short when the claw-like protrusion from underneath began firing yellow bolts of energy, all of them at the same time.
They slammed into the ground, breaking concrete with large thumps and explosions of dust and rubble. My eyes went wide, my body moving before I realized it. I threw myself out of the way, hiding behind a large pile of rubble. I could feel the vibrations of where the bolts slammed into it, though not through it, thankfully.
My relief was short-lived when the ships split in half, arcing to the side to make a second run. Hiding wouldn’t solve anything, just delay the inevitable. I needed to run or destroy them. Given that my body felt too battered to run, and they controlled the skies, running would just get me killed.
I floated off the ground, shooting towards one group of the ships. My internal energy felt diminished, emptied out almost. When I formed a ki attack in my hand, it flickered like a dying flame in the wind. Fearing the worst, I fired it before it could vanish entirely. It sailed towards one of the ships, I half expected it to take evasive to dodge my attack. Instead, my ki blast hit it dead center, the ship exploding before falling to the ground, a trail of smoke marking its decent.
Wishing to follow up a good start, I dug deep as I forced myself to fly faster, the other two finished the maneuver as if they hadn’t lost a companion. It was too smooth, too coordinated. I couldn’t tell for certain, but I was sure that they were drones. With no hesitation, I lobbed another ki blast at them, forcing them to split further and delay firing on me.
A pang of exhaustion nearly overwhelmed me, feeling suddenly weak. It felt like I was on empty, running on fumes. Even still, I rushed towards one of the ships, using a burst of speed to close the distance between us. I touched down roughly, hard enough that the ship dipped low enough to clip a shell of a building, making it collapse completely behind us. So close to the glowing orange bits, the looked important, I decided, so I punched them until they blew up.
Instantly the ship began to fall, only then did I realize that they were like our ships floaters. Another ship, one from the other group, was hot on our trail. Its guns glowed, firing on me and the ship. Reacting instantly, I kicked down on the back, flipping the ship so it served as a brief shield from the blaster fire.
My shield exploded not long after, fire and smoke washing over me, but it went ignored. Gathering up some of the last dregs of my ki, I formed another ball of it in my hand and fired it through the smoke. I heard another explosion, telling me that my aim was dead on. Three down, three to go.
Swallowing a pant for breath, I flew away from the wreckage of my shield, darting towards a half standing building as I searched the skies for my opponents. One announced its presence with blaster fire, bright yellow blasts racing towards me as it came from the left. My small size was a blessing, offering a small target, which made it easy to dodge the fire. I waited until it was practically on top of me before I hit it with a ki blast, it tried to swerve out of the way at the last second, but it was too late.
Dodging the flaming wreckage, I sucked down air greedily, sweat pouring from my forehead. Just two left. Then I would regroup with the squad and we could get out of here. My moment of respite was ended by more blaster fire, this time coming from my left. I threw myself out of the way, only for more blaster fire to rain down upon me from above.
Making a split decision, I rushed upwards, zigzagging out of the way of dozens of blasts. It didn’t try to swerve out of the way as I neared, intending to hit me to take me down with it, only I did a tight flip out of the way, slipping underneath it, my legs shooting out at the last second to kick it from underneath. The blasters tilted just enough to rip the ship below into shreds.
With an exhausted grunt, I punched the ship to death, it exploding, before I lowered myself to the ground. This planet might have less gravity than planet Vegeta, but it seemed to be a hundred times heavier with how I collapsed as soon as I touched down. For a moment, I just sat there on my hands and knees, beads of sweat pouring off me in rivers, the only sounds around me were the crackling of fire and my heavy breathing.
Then the sound of rubble shifting underfoot alerted me that I wasn’t alone. With strength that I didn’t have, I shot to my feet, my hands at the ready to-
“Tora?” I asked, seeing the other saiyan approach. His armor had seen better days, a few cuts and scrapes littered his skin, but he looked fine. Much better than me at any rate.
“Tarble. You figured out how to use energy blasts, good job.” He complimented, approaching, stepping over...over a corpse. “I tried to get in touch with you earlier, but it looks like you lost your scouter.”
Swallowing thickly, my throat feeling like it was lined with sand, I nodded. “How’d you keep yours?” I asked, relaxing ever so slightly.
“An old trick veterans pick up. I’ll show you some other time, but for now we need to group up with Bardock.” Tora explained, sounding far too calm. I frowned at him, narrowing my eyes in a silent demand for an explanation. They blew up the moons, they were counter-attacking, where was the panic?
“Come on, Shugesh is already there,” Tora informed, taking off. I wiped the sweat from my forehead before following behind him. If he wasn’t panicking then, as annoying as it was, it was a good sign. No one was dead, and he was confident in his ability to win or escape. Or, at least, he was confident that Bardock could win this or escape.
“What about Leek? He was by the moons, right?” I asked, trying to will myself to get a second wind.
“He and the ship are fine. Bardock saw this coming, so he had Leek take measures. He’s hiding in the rubble of the moons now.” He answered, getting a nod from me as I searched for any more aircraft. Everything was so dark, from the ground to the inky black sky, making it hard to actually see anything.
The only thing that illuminated the darkness were fires raging below from destroyed cities. We left the one Tora had destroyed, passing through another and approaching a third. I wonder how many power levels my scouter could pick up if I still had it. How many were left on the planet?
Not many, I would guess. How long had it been since we landed here? An hour? Two? Going Ozoru made it hard to tell, but it couldn’t have been long.
Eventually, Tora angled downwards and I followed. It was hard to make them out in the darkness, but I could make out Bardock’s form waving us down. His gaze raked over me, lingering on the mark on my armor. He cocked an eyebrow in a silent question.
“Uh, I landed on a building with a scarab in it. It stabbed me before I went oozaru.” I explained, leaving a whole lot out of the story. There was no real reason why he had to know I tried to pass the scarab off to Tora and tried to sit out on massacring the natives.
Bardock frowned, eyeing the mark. “The oozoru transformation saved your life. Good job on not dying.” He complimented, getting a stunned look from me followed by a hesitant nod. Bardock. Compliment. Those were two things that didn’t go together like oil and water or pineapple and pizza.
Then he jerked his head to the side, “come on. The others are waiting.” Bardock said, turning around and walking into what looked like a tunnel, though it would have been impossible to tell with a passing glance. Mountains of rubble hide it from view, perfect for regrouping on a hostile planet. Tora quickly followed with me bringing up the rear.
Inside, I saw that the tunnel was a lot larger than I thought it would be. Somewhere around the size of a subway, but there weren’t any rails of any kind. Fasha, Borgos, and Shugesh were all there, sitting around a fire with chunks of meat roasting over it. They all sported some scrapes and bruises, but I was by far the one in the worst shape. Not surprising.
“Tarble? You survived? Shugesh, you owe me your pay for this mission,” Fasha informed triumphantly, waving me over to sit by her. I obeyed, too tired to be surprised that there was a bet if I lived or not. I looked at the food longingly, reaching out to a chunk of meat with a skewer stuck through it. The skin was burnt and uneven, the long narrow shape of it making it a poor choice to lean over the fire-
My gaze landed on the end of the meat. Were...those fingers? Swallowing thickly, the jokes and good cheer around me falling on deaf ears as my gaze slowly drifted over the other chunks of meat. A leg, another arm, chunks of a torso…
They were eating nepotins.
All of a sudden my appetite vanished like smoke in the wind.
“My scouter is picking up a vanguard unit and three scouts,” Bardock informed, taking a seat next to Tora as he grabbed a leg. I watched him take a bite of it, swallowing before speaking. “We have some time to rest, but it won’t be long until they find this place.”
“I took care of most of the army on the planet, so whatever soldiers are left came on the fleet,” Shuegsh said, chewing on a bone, it crunching loudly. I was snapped out of my revulsion by what he said. Fleet? What fleet?
Fasha saw my confused look and explained in a low whisper, “the Reach is reinforcing the planet was a fleet. Borgos would have a better idea of what kinds, but it’s a small one instead of a proper war fleet. A dozen ships, some really big ones too.” Upon seeing my increasingly worried look, because there were five of us against a fleet of ships, she rubbed my head reassuringly. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll be fine.”
Why were they so confident? The moons were destroyed and we were going up against five scarabs, two of them vanguards. We were trapped here.
“Hm. Really hate to use these things, but whatever gets the job done.” Bardock continued, looking into a sack that Shugesh tossed at him. The smaller, rounder saiyan gave a careless shrug.
“I’m fine with it. Fighting ships just isn't the same as fighting a scarab, you know?” He dismissed, earning an agreeing nod from the other saiyans.
I looked at the sack, which was roughly the size of me, the bag lumpy so it was a bunch of things instead of one big one. What was inside, I couldn’t even guess. If Bardock had Shugesh go get it in the middle of battle, it must be important though.
“I hear you,” he agreed before he stood straighter, his gaze sweeping over all of us. “Right now, the Reach thinks that they had us cornered, pinned exactly where they want us. And that is exactly where we want them.” He started with a savage grin, the low flickering light making him appear like a demon in the shadows. All things considered, we were worse than any demon.
“Tora, Borgos, Shugesh, you’re with me. We’re going to make a desperate break for the flagship hovering in orbit. One last hurrah,” Bardock said, earning matching savage grins and an annoyed look from Fasha. Bardock saw it but didn’t comment in favor of explaining his plan. “Fasha, you and Tarble are going to slip into space while we distract them.”
Wait...what?
He tossed the sack at Fasha, who looked in, her expression told me she was unimpressed. “Antigrain warheads. Put them on the ships and blow them up. Our exit will be cleared, Leek will pick you up when he sees the light show.”
What?
“Fine. The detonator in here?” Fasha asked, rummaging through the sack in search of it. What...what were antigrain warheads? Anything that named warhead sounded dangerous and not something you shoved into a bag. She found it before Bardock could answer and tucked it between her breasts.
I was seeing one really big problem with this plan.
“What about you?” I asked, wishing I could take the words back as soon as I said them when everyone gaze turned to me. Bardock sent him a questioning look, so I continued, “how are you going to deal with the scarabs? The moons are gone and…” Saying that they weren’t strong enough to beat them didn’t sound like a good idea.
Bardock just smirked, “you let me worry about that.” He answered cryptically before jerked his chin at me. “Now go to sleep. You’ll need it.”
“But,” I started, despite myself, shifting from foot to foot. Bardock saighed, gesturing at me in a way that said ‘spit it out.’ “Do we have to use weapons? Can’t we just use ki attacks instead?” The idea of it left a bad taste in my mouth. The ships before seemed flimsy, so we could defiantly do it. Using weapons, especially alien weapons, just...I didn’t want to do it.
Bardock sighed, striding over to me. For a split second, I thought he was going to hit me for questioning him. Instead, he dropped to a knee in front of me. He looked at me for a moment, letting me hear Fasha whisper to Tora, “What’s a ki attack?”
“Tarble, I’m going to teach you something. It’s a lesson that most of our race never learns, and because of it, hundreds of us die.” Bardock started, staring a hole right into my head, I couldn’t bring myself to so much as blink. “This lesson took me years to learn, and it cost me blood, sweat, and tears to do it. Do you want to know what it is?”
Not trusting my voice, I gave a jerky nod. Bardock stared at me for a moment longer, dragging out the tension. Then he spoke.
“Pride has its place. The battlefield isn’t one of them,” Bardock stated, pretty much throwing everything that I had learned in the tank into the garbage bin. Pride was everything to a saiyan. We needed it as much as we needed food, water, and a good fight. As if sensing my confusion, Bardock continued. “We could use energy attacks to destroy the ships, but what if you can’t punch through the armor?”
I didn’t answer. Bardock’s eyes narrowed into a glare, “that wasn’t a rhetoric question. What happens if you can’t destroy the fleet with your own power?”
I shifted, not having to think too deeply about the outcome. “We die,” I answered. We would be overwhelmed and then we would die.
“Exactly. With the warheads, they’re guaranteed to work. Don’t let your pride cloud your judgment -- the mission comes first, the team second, and your pride last. That’s how we win. Do you understand?”
Did I? It made sense. It resonated with the part of me was still human. But that part of me seemed so small now. When I was human, I would have never killed. I would have never participated in a genocide. If I was still human, I would have given up against the first saibaman and died.
Bardock noticed that I was mulling it over before he stood back up, towering over me. “Now, go to sleep you’ll need it.”
With heavy thoughts, I turned away from the group, curling into a ball and closed my eyes. I thought sleep would have claimed me instantly, but it didn’t. Maybe it was the fact I was sleeping on the ground, or the fact I was sleeping wasn’t a good enough reason for the others to lower their voices. They laughed and joked, reminiscing over past missions.
I felt like an outsider. I shouldn’t, the logical part of my brain told me. They had known each other for years, they fought together in countless battles. I knew them for less than a week. Even still, logic rang hollow when I knew that they would only laugh at me.
Sleep refused to claim me, so I slipped into myself like I did so many times before. My brain tried to latch on to countless thoughts of what happened in the past few hours, but I refused to think about them. All through the night, I refused to think about anything.
Time passed painfully slow but eventually, I felt someone shaking my shoulder to wake me up.
“Hm?” My eyes snapped open before the first shake could finish, seeing Fasha’s face hovering above me. I sat up, not feeling refreshed, but stronger. It would have to do.
“It’s time,” was all she said before straightening. I pushed myself back to my feet, no sooner than I had, I felt something being pressed into my hand. A deep green scouter. Looking up, I saw it was Bardock that gave it to me.
“Don’t use it unless you have to. The Reach will be monitoring for any communications and this plan hinges on you and Fasha not getting caught.” He informed as I put the scouter on. Then he put a mask in my hand, similar to the one I wore in a healing tank. It was connected to a canister that he hooked up to my lower back without an explanation until he finished. “This is so you can breathe, don’t let that hose get cut. You’ll suffocate and die.”
Um. Where was I going? I stared up at Bardock for a moment, the context clues painting a picture that I didn’t like. At all. “The ships...are in space?” I ventured, getting a nod from the elder saiyan. Right. Of course, they were. I looked down at my armor, my undersuit not faring much better.
“You should be strong enough to survive the vacuum,” Bardock answered, like what he said wasn’t completely ridiculous. Though, as if to double-check, he scanned me with his own scouter, his eyes going wide when it settled on a number. I read the number backward, my eyes doing the same.
“The hell, 660? Weren’t you at 630 yesterday?” He snapped, torn between sounding angry and surprised. His sharp tone caught the attention of everyone else, double-checking with their own scouter. I shifted from foot to foot underneath all the attention, unsure how to respond.
30 points, easily the largest jump yet. Absentmindedly, my hand went up to where the scarab stabbed me, my mind thinking furiously. I noticed it back when I was training with the saibamen, but my biggest jumps in pl happened when I was nearly beaten to death. Judging from the intense look Bardock gave the mostly healed wound, I think he noticed it too.
“660 and he’s barely out of the pod? King Vegeta’s kids really are freaks,” Shugesh commented, breaking the intense silence. I heard some chuckling from the others while Bardock shook his head as if to clear his thoughts.
“Yeah, you should be good,” Bardock said, his expression shifting back to a serious mask. “Stick with Fasha. We’re heading out now.” He said, turning to exit the tunnel we spent the night in. I swallowed thickly, putting on the mask to hide my expression. I double-checked the oxygen in it three times before we stood underneath the sun, the sky a chocolate brown, the white swirls standing out more now that the sun was out.
The destruction was also more apparent. Fires had died out, though trails of smoke still drift towards the sky, mountains of rubble stood in place of a city. At some point I must have gone nose blind to it, but I knew the air reeked with death. My gaze caught a body half-buried underneath chunks of stone, its blood long since died on the pavement. I quickly looked away.
“Don’t die, any of you. I can’t collect from a corpse,” Fasha said, tapping fists with her squadmates.
“Don’t remind me. I’m so deep in the hole I might as well be buried in it,” Shugesh said with an exaggerated shudder. Tora gave her a lopsided grin and a nod, while Borgos and Bardock just nodded.
It was a simple goodbye of people expecting to see each other again. Whatever Bardock had up his nonexistent sleeves, it must be one hell of a trump card. With that, the four of them blasted off into the distance, rapidly making their way to a flagship hovering in low orbit somewhere. Before long, they were little more than specs in the distance.
“You ready?” Fasha questioned, tapping the top of my head with the bottom of her fist.
I was about to fly into space with no protective equipment. I nodded, trying to hide my doubts. The mask definitely helped because Fasha seemed to believe me this time.
“Good. Take these warheads,” Fasha started, handing me a bag of antigrain warheads. They were shockingly light. Curious, I glanced inside and saw they looked like a really big bullet, roughly the size of a liter of soda. There were six in total. “Stick one on each ship, flat side to the ship so they stay there. Don’t get caught either, because they’ll swarm you with drones and then you’re done for. Got that?”
Again I nodded.
“Then let's go,” Fasha said, floating upwards, her own bag of antigrain warheads in hand with her mask secured. I floated up after her, feeling less sure about this by the second. Could I even break atmosphere without any kind of spaceship? It seemed insane.
Even still, I followed after Fasha. The ground grew more distant with every passing second, the clouds getting closer until we passed through them. The air grew colder as we continued, leaving the clouds behind us as well. Eventually, I felt less and less wind on my face, everything getting even colder until it felt like I was sticking my face against dry ice. It didn’t hurt, not really, but it was really uncomfortable. The only places it did hurt were my cuts and scrapes.
And, just like that, I was in space. Without a spaceship or suit. Despite it all, laughter bubbled from my chest, my gaze sweeping over the planet below. It was the same view as before, but this time there wasn’t a plane of glass to separate us. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only thing that had changed.
In the distance, I saw the fleet that hovered just outside of orbit. All of them shared the same theme as the ships I destroyed earlier, though hundreds of times larger. The largest of them was twice the size of all the others, and each of the others were the size of a skyscraper. Tiny specs rained down from the ships to the planet, it was landing new armies on the planet.
I couldn’t risk using my scouter, but I could only assume that the scarabs would be mixed in. Between the three of them, I believe they could take on one vanguard unit, but more than that? With scouts providing support?
Shaking my head, I dismissed the thoughts to focus on the task at hand. They could deal with the armies. We had to deal with space ships.
Following Fasha, we flew towards the ships. In space, the only thing I could hear was the sound of my heartbeat thundering in my ears. Every second we got closer, I expected the ships to start to turn, alerted to our presence. Instead, we got closer and closer and closer and closer until the ships were close the ships were all that I could see.
I felt a hand tap my shoulder, nearly making me jump out of my skin. Fasha pointed to me, then half of the ships, the back half. My gaze racked over them, swallowing thickly, before I gave her a firm nod. I could do this. Fasha returned my nod before she flew off towards her half of the ships. I turned towards my half, ignoring my fears and my doubts.
Flying forward, if the tension was bad before, it was downright unbearable now. I tried to control my breathing as the first ship drew closer and closer and closer and closer until I could reach out and touch it. I looked around, expecting every single ship in the fleet to round on me and open fire. A second that felt like a century passed, and when nothing happened, only then did my hands dip into my bag to grab a warhead.
I stuck it to the ship how Fasha instructed, and it stuck there. I looked at it for a moment, the weapon jutting out against the sleek metal before I looked up at the ship. It was massive, completely filling up my field of view. I didn’t know what an antigrain warhead could do, but it didn’t look like it could do much to ships like these.
If Bardock was willing to bet it all on them working, then I guess I didn’t have much of a choice but to hope that they would.
Floating away from the ship, I drifted towards another ship, careful not to move too fast or else the ships would take notice of me. After what felt like hours, but was less than a minute, I reached the ship and repeated the process. I spared a glance below me, still seeing pods raining down on the planet. They were bigger than ours, closer to the size of busses. Some didn’t go straight down in favor of arcing out, covering the surface of the planet.
With two down, I went to do the same with the other four. Each second was unbearable, the feeling of vulnerability of knowing that there was nothing I could do if they noticed me was terrifying. I was lucky that it was too cold for me to sweat, or I would be picking pieces of ice off my forehead.
To my shock, as I placed the last warhead, I managed to do it without being noticed. With my heart pounding, my mouth uncomfortably dry, I spared a glance at my oxygen tank and saw that I still had plenty of time left. This was...easy. Incredibly easy. Shockingly easy. Where was the other shoe and when was it going to drop?
As if to answer my question, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. A bright light that I was rapidly recognizing as an attack caught my attention. For a split second, I thought that I jinxed myself and the attack was meant for me. When I followed where it was going, I saw Fasha flying between the ships, the blast slamming into a ship as she flew out of the way. Then my eyes darted to the source of the blast and my stomach dropped so hard that I’m surprised it didn’t fall out of me.
In sleek black armor, a large scarab warrior fired another blast at Fasha. It looked almost identical to the one that nearly killed me, only it stood the same size as Borgos, the dark blue replaced with a dark gray. The scarab shifted on its back, turning into a jetpack, before it launched itself at Fasha, closing the distance between them in a blink of an eye.
The vanguard unit.
It threw a punch that Fasha barely managed to duck under, trying to counter only for a fist to be planted into her stomach. When she bent over involuntarily, a knee smashed into her face as a hand held her head in place. I saw her mask break under the blow, air leaking out as the black scarab grabbed her by the hair and slammed the back of her head into the flagship.
I froze, watching the scene. I couldn’t fight that thing. Fasha was so much stronger than me, and as she slipped out of the hold and countered, it was clear who was winning. With her mask broken, air continuously leaked out and it wouldn’t be long before she suffocated.
She has the detonator. I didn’t see the bag, so either she dropped it or all of the warheads were in position.
Fasha blocked a punch with a forearm, returning it with an elbow to the face that the black scarab accepted. In return, one of the armlike bulges along its collar bone lifted up, lashing out and cutting the thin tube that fed Fasha oxygen. Her eyes widened, the air escaping her broken mask stopping instantly.
My body moved before I could think better of it. She had the detonator and even losing, she stood a much better chance of beating the thing than I did. I shot forward, a ki blast forming in my hands that I launched at the scarab. In the void of space, there was no warning of my attack until it slammed into it, doing exactly zero damage.
Not that I expected it to. Fasha seized the opportunity instantly, slipping away from the scarab. She sent me a look when I approached, but there was no time for explanations. To stop my lungs from exploding, I emptied them of air before I took off my mask and tank and passed it over to her. Her eyes widened, taking it, and no sooner than she had the black scarab was on us. I darted away, the scarab firing a blast at me, but it knew who was the bigger threat was.
Fasha fired off a ki blast to get its attention firmly on her as I dodged out of the way, feeling the heat of the attack wash over me. We needed a plan. Giving Fasha my oxygen tank bought us some time, but she couldn’t win against that thing. Already, my lungs felt like they were burning, it wouldn’t be long before I suffocated.
Forcing my heart to slow in my chest, I searched for any other threats, finding none. It was clear that they thought the black scarab would be enough to deal with us, and they probably weren’t wrong.
My mind raced, my lungs burned, and time was ticking by with every second. We couldn’t beat it in a straight-up fight, it was just too strong and we were too weak, so we needed something else. We needed-! The warheads!
The warheads were small but they stuck out like a sore thumb when you were looking for them. It only took a second to find the one stuck on the flagship when all of it was seamless metal. If it could take out a ship like this, then it could take out a scarab.
Then the question became how to use it against the scarab. Bringing the fight near the warhead would just get us all killed in the explosion. We had to get the scarab by the ship by itself. Maybe take out the scarab and kick it towards it? No, even if I jumped in, we wouldn’t be able to scratch it, much less exploit an obvious weakness.
I needed...an attack. A powerful attack that would send the scarab flying. I wasn’t strong enough to do it physically, and with its attention of Fasha, and me running out of air, I would only get one shot.
I needed…the answer I sought came to mind.
My hands cupped at my side, adopting a stance that it felt like I saw a thousand times. A ball of ki formed in my hands, beams of blue light slipping between my fingers. As I pumped more and more ki into the ball, it tried to grow but I forced it to be compact. Images of what it was supposed to look like helped me give it shape.
“Ka...me…” I started, my lips miming the words because my lungs were completely empty. The ball grew in strength as I put my all into it, knowing this was my best and only shot. “Ha...me…” It felt like it was going to explode in my hands, like a grenade that I was left cooking for too long.
“HAAAA!” I screamed, the kamehameha erupting from my hands, a cone of blue ki rather than the call of it that I expected. Either way, it had to work. It raced towards the scarab, Fasha’s scouter must have given her an early warning because she disengaged. I saw it look up at the attack, but it was too late to get out of the way.
It struck head on, forcing the scarab back, consuming it in blue light, as it raced towards the flagship. Fasha must have realized what I was doing because as soon as the scarab got close enough to the warhead, a blast of light filled my vision, rendering me blind. Unlike every explosion before, I didn’t hear or feel the aftermath. When the light faded, I looked at the flagship and saw it was broken in half.
The middle portion of the ship had just been deleted, there was no debris or anything. The closest thing I could compare it to was it was as if someone took an eraser to the middle portion. Looking behind me, I saw that the same happened to all the other ships. The fleet was destroyed.
We won.
Despite it all, despite what this victory meant, despite the oceans of blood that now stained my hands, I felt pride.
Then everything went dark.
Comments
CB-Otaku
Mhm... plus Tarble has a problem with just going with his instincts. Bardock pointed it out, and we saw he had to focus and really concentrate just to figure out that he already knew how to fire energy blasts and fly. It's entirely possible that he fudged up the Kamehameha by overthinking it, focus to much on how it looked in his head rather then feeling it out with his saiyan instincts. Still impressive what he did manage to pull off tho.
Neruz
Goku had a teacher though, there's a big difference between learning a technique you are taught and making it up from just a vague impression of what it should look like.
CB-Otaku
Really enjoyed the little political segment in the beginning. Making Lil' Vegeta the pov character was a great choice, letting you flesh out the setting without it feeling like an info-dump since Of course a child would need the finer details explained. I like how you are developing King Vegeta as a canny politician, while Kid Vegeta being so protective/possessive of his brother but trying not to show it... well it's just very endearing. AS for Bardock, I like your take on him. Very pragmatic, and while he is not blinded by his pride you can still tell it's there. Tarble's conflicting instincts are also very interesting to watch. Like giving up his air tank to Fasha, the person who's paid the most attention to him, is a very human gesture- but it doesn't fit the Self-centered Saiyan mindset that his education is trying to instill in him so he has to immediately justify it to himself. TLDR; I am really enjoying the story and am eagerly awaiting the next update :D
Mkaius
Hopefully the kamehameha will bring with it memories of other attacks and maybe ki sense as well eventually.
IdeasGuy
Eh, calling it a kamehameha gives it a little too much credit. It wasn't focused -- it was the equivalent of shaking up bottle and popping the top in the direction you wanted.
Stevie57
Great chapter and looking forward to the next part of the story. Kinda surprised he was able to use a kamehameha on his first attempt but guess it was the desperation of the situation.
