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Fear, hope and Everything In-between.  I_icon_minitimeThu Feb 15, 2018 11:17 am by Brokka

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Fear, hope and Everything In-between.  I_icon_minitimeSun Aug 09, 2015 4:00 pm by Gelth

» Tercres
Fear, hope and Everything In-between.  I_icon_minitimeSat May 16, 2015 12:49 am by Cayenna

» The Fruit of Vengeance
Fear, hope and Everything In-between.  I_icon_minitimeThu Apr 02, 2015 4:43 pm by Gelth

» From Out of the Cold
Fear, hope and Everything In-between.  I_icon_minitimeFri Mar 27, 2015 1:48 pm by Gelth

» The Darkest Star
Fear, hope and Everything In-between.  I_icon_minitimeFri Mar 27, 2015 12:44 pm by Brokka

» The Slug's Domain
Fear, hope and Everything In-between.  I_icon_minitimeTue Oct 28, 2014 3:47 pm by Brokka

» The Mission.
Fear, hope and Everything In-between.  I_icon_minitimeSun Aug 31, 2014 3:15 pm by Celeria

» A Shriek in the Darkness.
Fear, hope and Everything In-between.  I_icon_minitimeMon Jun 16, 2014 11:44 am by Celeria

» What? Even The Doctor Has an Origin Story?
Fear, hope and Everything In-between.  I_icon_minitimeSat Jun 07, 2014 2:58 pm by Gelth

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To Kill a Legend
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 Fear, hope and Everything In-between.

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PostSubject: Fear, hope and Everything In-between.    Fear, hope and Everything In-between.  I_icon_minitimeMon Aug 17, 2015 2:36 pm

Animo was nine years old, and in all of his nine years he’d never encountered anything so terror inducing as what was currently in front of him. The grey wastes of Ruina stretched out before his tiny little legs like an ocean of sullen steel. Each dilapidated ancient metal tower was a torrential wave in this great sea of metal he called his homeworld. It was so large; so encompassing compared to his tiny frame, and as he strode through the Dead Lands, he felt miniscule next to its morose grandeur. He was just a boy, too young and naive to be here, he wasn’t ready for this. But all the children of Ruina came here at his age, and each of them returned with a tribute to the village in the form of food or a valuable utensil from the grey wastes. But most importantly, everyone before him had left the village as a simple child, and had returned having rejected Fear in place of bravery, thus becoming a warrior. He was expected to do the same, so here he was, a small boy with his bow in hand, cold and wary from his long journey, and riddled in terror. He was a failure to his people, he was the lowest of them because he did the unspeakable – he accepted Fear.

Fear is no option.’ The Elder would tell them each and every day.

Fear was never an option, not for the Ruinic at least. Animo had told himself this time and time again since he had started his journey from the village. For hours he had walked into the enveloping barren wastes of this world, his bow firmly in hand, chanting the Song of Bravery. But, try as he might his little body was consumed with dread at the prospect of encountering a Dire, a Worg, or any other vicious creature. How was he supposed to kill such a beast and bring back its remains if he was too paralysed by fright to fire straight? He had to turn back, if he left now he would be home in time for sunrise. But, what would he tell his mother and the other villagers – how could he stand before the Elder and confess his failure?

He wouldn’t return at all; he couldn’t. To go back to the village empty handed would cause his mother unimaginable grief, and his entire family line would become the laughing stock of the species. He had to leave for another part of the planet; he had to hide so his shame would never be inflicted on his mother, lest she suffer from his cowardice too. But, in order to run away he had to keep traversing the Dead Lands, and with each step he took he found himself more and more submerged in its rusted loins. No, he had to succeed in the hunt, it was now or never.

Animo lifted his rustic oak and iron hybrid bow and scanned his surroundings. The cloak of darkness had already fallen, and the tall steel towers reflected with a charcoal glimmer. Everything was silent, besides the melodic beating of the boy’s heart against his chest. His senses were everywhere, and his pace quickened in anticipation of an attack. But everything was eerily empty; there wasn’t an animal in sight for miles ahead. Were they hiding and glowering at him below the metal towers, just waiting to strike? Such a thought made it feel like sharp quills were running up his back. He shook his head, expelling such lurid imagery.

The moments that passed felt like days, Animo was exhausted. Eventually the boy stopped walking, instead opting to sit on a protruding lump of steal. He sighed heavily, but kept his bow tight between his palms. But, as he looked about the darkness, in the distance he noticed a spherical object, and to his surprise it was flashing! The boy didn’t know whether to run in the direction he came or pursue the alien object. Eventually, with his heart in his throat he opted for the latter option, and approached with caution.

Courage give me strength and make my arrow strike bravely...

Animo teetered towards the strange spherical object. Even in these metal wastes it looked unfamiliar to him. It was sleek and untarnished unlike the other metals, and furthermore, it looked only minutely damaged. His curiosity spiked as his anxiety receded, and he found himself getting closer and closer, until-

A dazzling silver orb of light erupted from the vessel, and its lustrous beauty staggered the young boy as he felt his breath being forced from his lungs. Time slowed in this instant, but Animo could tell that the orb was moving very fast, and appeared to be heading for his person. Quickly, he clutched at his small upper torso, and bedazzlement quickly turned back to horror. But, as the dazzling ball of light came within a stone’s throw of the Animo, it quickly diverted course, zipping over his shoulder. Suddenly, a foul screeching escaped the air directly behind him, and it was followed by the pungent smell of burning flesh.

A DIRE! he instantly thought, as he twisted round to find the remains of a mangled four-legged furry black animal cooking. Who had been able to kill such a creature? Was there a beast more deadly still? Or, had something saved him? His heart was in his throat at the mere suggestion, and slowly he began to head back from whence he came. Until all of a sudden he was interrupted by the sound of clanking metals and incoherent ravings.

“HA! I got it... and it looks reeeeeally tasty too. But I don’t like the colour... Not green enough.” Animo quickly spun around to see a tattered gangly creature with a dark mat of messy fur on its head. He raised his bow and aimed down at the stranger, who for some strange reason was speaking in a familiar tongue. He never spoke, nor did he gesticulate to the strange creature in any way, he just kept his arrow aimed at its centre.

“Wah!? Hey, d-don’t be so grouchy, you can share too ya know.” The bizarre creature cracked a goofy smile, and the young boy noticed that his face was awash with his own blood mixed with murk. “...But I killed it, remember, so I get the... the part with all the fur, okay?”

Suddenly, Animo found himself more amused than he did scared. A smile peeled away at the corners of his face, and he concealed a giggle. “You... can’t eat fur!” The boy barked back, resuming his brave composure.

The messy creature paused for a second, until finally he scratched his head of black fur and sighed. “Then... w-what have I been eating for the past couple of years?” He swayed from side to side; he looked like he was teetering on the edge of consciousness.

“Who are you?” Animo eventually said, mustering up a little more bravery. “How come you speak like... like me, but you’re not Runic?”

“I-I’m not Runic – really? Then... What am I?” The creature started to inspect its arms and torso inquisitively. “What even is a Runic?” It blinked drunkenly.

“...I... I am Runic.” The boy’s voice became more tempered as he began to feel more at ease. This thing didn’t appear to be a threat after all.  

“OH WAIT! I GOT IT!” The creature’s arms were suddenly up in the air, frantically waving about. “I’m a doctor!”

“...A... doctor?” Animo raised his brow, to his people a doctor was a wise and intelligent being. This... alien looked nothing like that.

“...Doctor?” The creature swayed more than ever. “What about doctors – a-are you one?”

“No, you said you were!” Animo frowned.

“I’m a wah!?” Suddenly and expectedly, the messy creature collapsed into unconsciousness in a pile of his gangly appendages. Animo looked around in utter bewilderment, before he went to see if the docile thing was still alive...

Last edited by Gelth on Thu Oct 29, 2015 8:25 am; edited 1 time in total
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PostSubject: Re: Fear, hope and Everything In-between.    Fear, hope and Everything In-between.  I_icon_minitimeWed Aug 26, 2015 2:49 pm

The molten planet fizzled and burst at the seams, recoiling from the threatre of war that had just unravelled on its surface. The magmatic ooze splurged and vomited across the scorched sky, and forks of lightning shredded the world’s crust, tearing entire continents in two. Brokka’s seconds were numbered; he had precious moments before the entire planet burst into space dust. He had to find the Commander’s vessel, but his scouter had long since malfunctioned, leaving him operating in the dark. Pushed to his physical peak, and running on the fumes of his previous confrontation, the General blasted himself and the unconscious Celeria up past the black clouds of smog until the sky ran clear. And then when he had a clear field of view, with what little ki he had left, he raced across the upper atmosphere of the world, scanning the continents for any sign of a ship. As the minutes passed he saw nothing, and instantly his mind settled on treachery. Those weaklings had betrayed him; left him to choke on the residue of this dying world, they were lower than scum – simply wastes of the seed that conceived them. He finally stopped flying and released a visceral grunt. This wasn’t his death, not after all he had overcome to survive. His eyes trailed until they met with the stratosphere. If he had to, he would leave this planet during its last choking breath and take his chances in the vacuum of space, even with the Commander in hand. Those traitorous fools would rue the day that they betrayed-

Suddenly, a harmonic rumbling resonated through the air, and the black smog below Brokka parted like a diverging river. Then, from out of nowhere, a PTO saucer ascended past the clouds and its engines roared as it gained momentum. His contorted scowl quickly became a satisfied grin, and as he became positioned above the vessel, he quickly descended onto the deck of the ship. His body – still clutching the Commander in an iron grasp – collided with the titanium roof, and suddenly the vessel shook from its core, the frame of the ship almost losing all integrity. The forces of gravity suddenly assaulted the stalwart Brokka and Celeria, and threatened to topple their bloodied forms back down into the volcanic loins of the dying planet. But, like a bulwark of power, Brokka cut through all opposing forces and strode across the deck until he knew he was standing directly above the crew area. Then, he hoist Celeria’s ragdoll form over his shoulder, and he focused what little remained of his Super Saiyan might into his free fist. After a moment’s pause, he looked at the comatose Commander hanging off his shoulder pad and smirked. Suddenly, his fist ignited in white-hot ki, and ripped through the hull like paper mache. The flesh of the ship churned and sparked as Brokka’s arm tore out a Saiyan sized hole. Then, not wanting to dally a moment longer on the desolate graveyard of a planet, the General dropped into the self-made hatch, and landed on a deck surrounded by his and Celeria’s units.

“The shields damn it, hurry it up Magma!” Keyla mewled.

“Silence your prattling, fool! I’m working on it.” The Icejin yelled, from the command deck.

The General instantly scrutinised his immediate surroundings, and noticed the presence of Cayenna and Chardok, looking on in something far less than disbelief. They no doubt expected him to return in one piece, he had shown them nothing but relentless rigour and perseverance during their time under his command, why would he fail their expectations now. Then, his gaze turned to Keyla, who had instantly eyed him up aggressively. She would stand in the way of his sanctuary, and thus she would have to be eliminated.

“Oh no, you don’t just walk on this ship with my Commander strewn over your shoulder. I don’t care how you helped us, General, you put her down and get outta here, this instant!” She barked through gritted teeth. Suddenly, the shields activated outside of the hull, and atmospheric pressure returned to normal.

“Get out of my way, now, before there’s nothing left of you standing.” Brokka commanded, his voice raspy and raw.

“Oh, over my dead body.” Keyla’s miniscule form suddenly readied itself for battle, and her hands formed the caricature of fists.

“Good, I was hoping for nothing less.” Bouldering forward, the General prepared a fist, readying it to rip the nurse’s torso in two. But, before he could advance any further, the whole ship swooned. He staggered, falling to his knees. Suddenly, he realised the ship hadn’t swayed at all, it was him! He was exhausted, beyond that even, he was dying. He needed the healing tank, and he needed it now. He tried to regain his composure and climb to his feet, but, as he made every effort, Celeria fell from his shoulder and crashed to the floor. Moments later, he too fell unconscious.
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PostSubject: Re: Fear, hope and Everything In-between.    Fear, hope and Everything In-between.  I_icon_minitimeWed Aug 26, 2015 3:20 pm

“He sustained severe injury; his wounds are resisting even the vac-fruit.” These muffled words resonated in the recesses of Kale’s unconsciousness.

“Is he going to survive, mother?” This voice was familiar.

“Yes of course, my herbalism has never failed before and it shan’t now. But my concern is not his survival, Animo.”

“...His tail?”

“Yes, there is already talk of bringing him before the Elder for trial, and if that happens, you, my dear boy, will be brought before him to answer for bringing this stranger here.”

“I-I’m sorry mother, I truly am. But he saved me from a Dire, and I couldn’t just let him die.”

“A brave deed my boy, and let us hope the tribe sees it that way.” The muffled voice became suddenly clearer, although the pitch fell to a whisper. “He is beginning to stir, he must be waking up.”

Kale’s heavy eyelids slowly pealed open and were met by a blurred haze of colours meshing together like a kaleidoscope. His retinas stung as the luminescence of the room flooded his visual sense, and he raised an unsteady hand to block out the uncomfortable glare. He released a deep groan as he felt the blood flooding his cranium like a dam washing over his skull. His head pulsed with agony, and it felt as if his brain was about to fall apart by the hemispheres. He languished in pain for a moment, his mind too focused on remembering the source of this untold anguish to focus on what was happening. Suddenly, he remembered Broly and the volcanic world. Then, everything else returned to him with sublime quality. Last he remembered he had been hurtling through the vacuum of space, sent there by a vicious attack from the dying Broly. So, if he had literally been spiralling through oblivion, then where was he now?

Suddenly, the Doctor jerked into an upright position. As his muscles facilitated the motion, he felt a jolt of pain run through his abs, chest and spine. He winced, but was immediately distracted by what he saw. As his vision cleared, he was met by the sight of two pale white humanoid beings. One was significantly taller than the other and appeared to be a woman - though she had no hair - and the other looked like a young boy. Then, as the doctor continued to assess his surroundings, he noticed that he was in a small circular hut, built in a style he didn’t recognise, with rustic materials like bark and bamboo interwoven with metals like iron and copper. The design was pretty chaotic, and it was utterly unfamiliar to him, but there was a certain fastidiousness about it.

“...Nice... hut.” Kale eventually said, as his mind was still awash with confusion about his current location.

“You’re awake. You sustained heavy injury, you were not suspected to regain consciousness at least for another day.” Spoke the pallid woman.

Quickly, the Doctor looked down at himself and noticed that he was lying on a makeshift bed of various furs and fabrics. At least he wasn’t waking up on his back in the rubble again, as he’d been prone to doing so many times in the past. As far as unconscious confusing endeavours went, this was one of the better ones. But wait, this was too good to be true; he never woke up in a bed of all places after being thrashed so completely – was he dead?

“...I really thought hell would have a lot more fire and brimstone.” He muttered, partially to himself. “Now bamboo and fur sheets, that took me by surprise.” He chuckled, somehow still able to find slight amusement in even the bleakest of situations.

“Hell?” The boy asked in bewilderment.

“...Yeah, I’m dead right? I mean, you two are pale enough to be ghosts and I just woke up after flying hopelessly into the blackness of space. That leaves only a couple of conclusions...” Kale shrugged, but felt a stabbing sensation in his shoulder. “I could have done without the pain, what with no longer having a body anymore, but hey it’s hell, it can’t all be bamboo and fur.”

“You’re not dead, my son Animo saved you in the Grey Wastes, and he brought you back here for healing. Who are you?” The woman moved closer cautiously, but as Kale cumbersomely positioned himself at the edge of the bed, she withdrew in apprehension.

“Relax.” He growled through the pain. “I’m not gonna kill you, I’m just trying to see if I still have workable legs.” He placed his feet on the ground slowly. “I’m Kale.” He saluted the two pale aliens. “And if I’m definitely not dead, then I’m just a passerby, nobody special... Well, I am pretty special, at most things really... especially at telling jokes.” He pouted and raised an eyebrow. “...But, anyway, I’ll be out of your hair – or there a lack of in your case – in no time. Then you can go back to your quaint little hut lives and I’ll be a distant memory. Just tell me where you found me, kid, and I’ll head back in that direction, all right?”

The Doctor stood up unevenly, and as he attempted to place the remainder of his weight on his feet, he stumbled, falling towards the two pale creatures. They quickly took hold of him as he tumbled forward, lifting him steadily to his feet.

“I found you in the graveyard of our world, you can’t go back there.” The child named Animo objected.

“Listen to reason stranger, plus, you are not permitted to leave, not yet. The elder of our tribe will soon meet with you to determine your fate, so I’m afraid you must remain here.” The mother said, crassly.

“Huh? You save me and then put me on trial? Talk about mixed messages from a woman...” Kale forced himself free of the aliens’ hold, and ambled to the makeshift door of the hut. “Trust me; I’m saving you the effort here. Sooooo many people have tried to kill me, but look, I’m still here never learning my lesson. So, I’ll just be out of your-“

The entrance to the hut was suddenly slung open, and two wood/metal clad pale soldiers bearing bamboo spears topped with metal folks entered.

“The prisoner is coming with us to the Elder, he demands his audience now.” One of the guards grunted.      

“I told the Elder’s envoy, he is not fully healed yet. The vac-fruit hasn’t had time to-“

“Silence Avina! Your outspokenness has already been dealt with in the past. Don’t stand in the way of his directive again.” Shouted the second guard, he was even more irate than the last.

Kale frowned as he weighed up the two ridiculously dressed soldiers. He couldn’t sense any great strength in them beyond a basic life force. Plus, they wielded primitive weapons; this civilisation was obviously still in the throes of an agricultural revolution, and they posed no threat to him whatsoever. But, the metal adornments were very peculiar; after all, judging from the guards’ garb, this society was not yet proficient with crafting metal. Something else was at play here, he could count on it. Finally, the Doctor looked at Avina in slight confusion.

“You can heal me with fruit? Well, that makes my career redundant.” He shrugged. But suddenly the two soldiers were on him, each gripping him by an arm. Kale sighed lightly, before flicking both of his wrists and sending the buffoons hurtling to the ground. “Yeah, see, I wouldn’t touch me if I were you. I bite.” He lowered his head and winked at the stunned guards.

“No!” Avina yelled in warning, rushing over to Kale. “Don’t confirm what they already think of you, stranger. Only ill can come from this, I promise you. Do as they say and see this order through.” The sallow woman looked Kale deep in his dazed eyes, and instantly he felt the sincerity of her words disarm him. In truth, he didn’t know how he had ended up here, or how he was going to find his pod and get home, but he supposed the answer might lie with this ‘Elder’ individual. His greatest chance of getting back to Keyla, Celeria and the others was therefore through these bizarre primitive people. He supposed he’d just have to sit and see how this one played out.    

Animo eventually interjected, breaking Kale and Avina’s glance. “Y-You’re very strong for someone so injured. How did you do that?” He seemed speechless, if not impressed. Kale saluted the kid again before turning his attention back to the guards who were scrambling to their feet.

“Well then, it seems that I’ve got nothing better to do than play ‘follow the leader’, so, after you guys.” The Doctor playfully motioned to the door, and the guards guided him out with their spears on him at all times. “...Come on guys, would you stop, I could snap those things into pieces by blinking...” He grumbled, as he left the hut. Both Avina and Animo followed along shortly thereafter.

Last edited by Gelth on Thu Oct 01, 2015 9:26 am; edited 1 time in total
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PostSubject: Re: Fear, hope and Everything In-between.    Fear, hope and Everything In-between.  I_icon_minitimeSat Aug 29, 2015 7:33 am

"That's the fourth package you wolfed down, leave some for me, will ya?"

"Get your own, shrimp, I earned it!"

"You saiyans fail to consider the existence of other creatures on this ship that also require sustenance!"

"Shut up!"

Celeria stirred, picking up the faint sound of muffled squabbling and rushed footsteps in a chamber beyond through the liquid that softly rippled along her form. And then, stillness. Hours later, more footsteps, followed by hushed sobbing. The Commander wished to survey the situation and determine who was compromised, but lacked the strength to pry her eyelids open. Instead, they merely quivered before she succumbed to fatigue once more and slipped back into unconsciousness. For a moment, she could swear she heard the doctor's voice.

And again. And again.

She was awakened by the low buzzing of the engines commencing the draining procedure. As the liquid slowly receded from the tank, the Commander opened her eyes. Although the light in the medbay was dim as per norm, Celeria felt as if a star had exploded right in her face, assaulting her eyes mercilessly and threatening to blind her. She shut her eyes tightly and removed the breathing mask. Although the tank had done its business, her muscles still ached. She ran her palms over the sculpted musculature of her arms, remembering how the beast had overtaken her on the planet. The recollection sent a faint chill trailing down her spine.

"Commander!" – Celeria picked up a familiar voice which urged her just outside of the tank, startling her from her reverie. Private Keyla.

As the glass pried open and Celeria slowly exited the tank, Keyla was immediately at her side, offering a towel and a set of fresh garments.

"Here you are, Commander. It's good to have you back." – She nodded. Despite the readiness with which she carried herself, her eyes were swollen and tinted with a hint of red, betraying her distress.

“Private...” – She nodded at Keyla, picking up the towel and commencing to dry herself systematically.

“We’re still on the signal. It’s... good, it’s still strong, just as you said it would be!” – Words suddenly burst forth from Keyla, her voice trembling with the gravity this situation seemed to impose upon her.

Then, Celeria registered a distinct change in the Private’s disposition. The color suddenly seeped from her face and her usual determination was replaced by what could be described as none other than despair. The Commander had finished drying and dressing herself and finished taking out the excess moisture out of her silken hair before she folded the towel and set it on the desk surface. Her dark eyes trailed to Keyla once more. The brave Private did her best to compose herself in the company of her superior, yet her tiny hands trembled like twigs in the wind.

“There was a message, Commander.” – she gestured at the scouter on her ear. “ From the doctor. From Kale. He-... he said-... he mentioned you-“ – She stuttered, reaching for the activation button.

Celeria recalled the time when this medical attendant had volunteered to be in the front lines of her mission for Lord Cooler. Despite having spent the majority of her existence in a medbay, she was willing to lay down her life on the line with remarkable readiness, sparsely seen in the entirety of the saiyan army – even among the higher ranks. Truly, she and Kale were two of a kind. And, Celeria would be there to protect them, as she had promised.

If there was anything the doctor had taught her, it was that sometimes, protection was not just a physical matter. Within an instant, the imposing Commander closed the distance between them, softly grasping Keyla’s hand into her palm and raising her index finger in front of Keyla’s face, all the while meeting her gaze. The Private was in danger of being overcome by a state of shock and Celeria was quick to employ an efficient grounding technique. As she felt the Private’s breathing and heart rate stabilize, the Commander placed her hand on the Keyla’s shoulder and pressed lightly.

“We will find him, Private. We will bring him back. This I promise you.” – she spoke solemnly.

Keyla nodded at her with affirmation, her gaze returning to its determined intensity.

“Right, Commander. We’ll keep monitoring the signal. I will inform you if there are any changes.”

“Affirmative. I will be in my quarters.” – Celeria instructed as she made her way out of the medbay and Keyla returned to the console in the chamber.

As she reached the threshold, Celeria stopped in her tracks and turned to the Keyla once more.

“Private?" – she inquired.

“Yes, Commander?” – Keyla looked at her warily.

“I have no memory of leaving the planet. How did I make it back?” – The Commander spoke in a low tone.

All of a sudden, the Private’s face flushed red, her features contorting into a grimace of  excessive unease.

“It was... It was the General.” – Keyla muttered under her breath.

A lengthy moment of awkward silence ensued.

“I see.” – The Commander paused, her face expressionless. She proceeded to leave the room.

“I tried to stop him, Commander-“ –Keyla urged.

Celeria permitted her to finish.

“I tried to stop him and get you back, but at that point, he also lost consciousness. He’s in the training chamber. He went there as soon as his healing procedure was completed. He hasn’t left it since.” – Keyla shrugged.

“Keep me posted on the signal.” – Celeria instructed as she turned on her heel and left.


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PostSubject: Re: Fear, hope and Everything In-between.    Fear, hope and Everything In-between.  I_icon_minitimeWed Sep 02, 2015 9:51 am

Motorised beeping indicated that the healing tank had finished curing Brokka’s wounds. As the mechanical droning continued, the healing liquids slowly drained from the tank until the General found himself standing firmly on his own two feet. The exhaustion that had previously lumbered his body was no more, and his strength had now completely returned. The tank hissed and slowly slid open, and Brokka’s exposed form stepped out into the med bay. Apart from Celeria healing in her own tank, the small room was empty, no medical professional or underling in sight – not that he would have writhed in shame, mind. A Saiyan’s bare form was as natural to him or her as the toils of combat, and any who shied away from such a sight with indignation was no warrior. But, a mystery remained - someone had shepherded his unconscious body to the healing tank, and no doubt the fool nurse had had nothing to do with it. The only conclusion therefore was that Cayenna and Chardok had preserved him, and for such an act of loyalty they would be rewarded in full.

As the General scanned the enclosed surroundings, he immediately became aware of emergency training provisions stacked clinically at the corner of the bay. With little desire to tarry, he clothed himself in black jumpsuit leggings and armoured boots, before continuing out of the med bay. Many questions remained, and while Commander Celeria was still brewing in her tank, Brokka could do nothing but wait. But, the mundanity of waiting on others was below a General of Brokka’s calibre, and thus he barrelled towards the training room at the rear of the ship. If Celeria wanted him – which of course she did - then she would come to him, it was as simple as that.

As Brokka arrived at the entrance to the training chamber, he was interrupted by the presence of the belligerent nurse Keyla, who had previously tried to expulse him from the vessel. She stopped in front of the door, her puny arms crossed and her face wearing fire.

“Kale was in your ship, and we’re using residuals of its signal to track his whereabouts.” She said, flatly. “That’s the only reason you’re still aboard this vessel. And, that’s the only reason I let your team use one of our tanks to heal you.” She half-grimaced as she peered at Brokka with mock hubris. She was proficient at playing soldier.

Brokka grinned, his canines protruding onto his lip. “And the only reason you’re still alive is because you’re too pathetic to expend even a single modicum of ki on.” He growled, his voice grittier than usual. “Now, get out of my way before I piss on your corpse.” He took a single step toward the nurse, who, when compared to his broad frame and towering stature, resembled a malnutritioned patient. She looked up at him, her gaze was unwavering, but her skin was flushed of all colour. She was out of her depth, no matter how she tried to conceal that fact, and now she was sinking rapidly. After a brief standoff, Keyla moved to one side, her face desperately trying to mask the disappointment. “So, the Commander’s thralls do have some semblance of sense. And here I thought I’d have to come back and decimate the rest of you.” His grin widened as he pushed forward into the training room.

Within moments of entering the room, Brokka thrust himself into a relentless training regime. With each lunge at the naked air the General became more focused on his new goal – reaching the next level.
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PostSubject: Re: Fear, hope and Everything In-between.    Fear, hope and Everything In-between.  I_icon_minitimeWed Sep 02, 2015 11:16 am

As she proceeded down the dimly-lit hallways of the vessel, the Commander realized that if there was anything she hated, it was making assessments. The only time she ever had to make assessments was when lives were at stake. When she failed to do her duty. Over the course of the mission, fewer saiyan lives had been lost than in a mere fortnight on the home planet. Death was natural to the saiyan race in those days, as natural as battle itself. Yet every life lost under her command seemed an affront to her, an attack on her vigilance, an attempt to undermine her role as Commander. However, should she fail to assess the situation now, there would be casualties she was not ready nor willing to shoulder, she thought to herself as she reached the threshold of her quarters.

The Commander immediately turned around and, in what seemed to be mere moments, found herself in front of the door to the training chamber. She eyed the mechanism intently, her open palms instantly clenching with apprehension as she steadied herself. Instances from the surface of Daris flooded her mind and the massacre at the colony followed. But as hard as she tried and no matter how much she resented him, in the end, she couldn't blame Brokka for what transpired on the colony. Were he dead and rotting, another of his power and even less mercy would've come in his place. Even the Prince himself damned them all to hell like it was nothing. No matter how one approached it, there was only one truth: weakness was to blame. Weakness and oversight. And come what may, the Commander would never make that mistake again. She would break every boundary in the universe and leave no stone unturned. She owed that much to the dead and to those whose lives yet depended upon her to preserve.

The door of the training chamber hissed open slowly and quietly, revealing the General with his back turned, engaged in a maneuver she instantly recognized. A maneuver she herself had executed countless times until her very muscles had memorized it. She merely observed as he began his execution of the final set of movements.

A quick lunge forward and a synchronized uppercut. Overextending efficiently avoided, denying the enemy the opportunity to seize the fist. Immediate switch to the side, block and counter. A swift 180-degree turn, the Commander thought to herself as she instinctively dropped down into a defensive stance, bending her knees and hunching her back, arms strategically raised and braced in position for impact and counter-offensive.

Finally, an immediate roundhouse punch, delivered straight in the direction of a humanoid temporal region, she calculated as his fist collided with her readied open palm and the two immediately established eye contact, his blazing intent meeting her chilling determination with nothing in the way.

The time had come to make amends. Or die trying.


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True Villain
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PostSubject: Re: Fear, hope and Everything In-between.    Fear, hope and Everything In-between.  I_icon_minitimeThu Oct 01, 2015 11:48 am

As Kale emerged from the tent, flanked by the two spear-clad guards, a panoramic of bewilderment flooded his vision. The village, every inch of it, was a spectacle to behold. Buildings were little more than tents adorned with a mix-match of fabrics, but interwoven into the architecture was iron, steel and even crystal. As the Doctor had observed in the hut, this blend of technology was incompatible, and based on the characteristics of these primitive people, it was far beyond them. How then had a tribal society happened on such technology? As Kale was quickly ushered through the village, his eyes continued to travel, and as they did, he unravelled more and more about the people who would call themselves his captors.

Most structures were small individual sized huts that were supported by tarnished steel frames. While every so often there were mega-tents that appeared to be training camps. These structures were open complex, and the indigenous population filled the interiors, training with hybrid metal-wood weaponry. Huge effigies also dotted the village, and were also built with a creative mesh of technology. One such statue was wooden and crystal hybrid, and appeared to depict a warrior with an axe charging into combat. If anything, Kale could say that these primitive people were creative. Sure they were pretty primal, but at least they had imagination.

As they continued to navigate the large village, the Doctor became aware of a unique structure. This one was built entirely of mismatched metals, and stood tall like some kind of pre-modern skyscraper. Whoever lived here was obviously in charge, and so, it no doubt had to be this ‘Elder’ the guards spoke of. As they approached the building, suddenly a conglomeration of about thirty other guards emerged from adjacent tents, armed – again – with the amusing forked spears. Unabated, however, Kale moved towards the building. Interestingly enough, his prior aches and pains had begun to recede, and a spring had returned to his step. Whatever that vac-fruit was, it was remarkable. How was it that something as inane as a simple fruit could attenuate the wounds inflicted by a monster?

The guards suddenly encircled Kale, Animo and Avina. And, after a moment of desperately trying to build tension, the iron doors to the central structure churned open, and out came another host of guards. These guards were more regally dressed; their armours were painted with silver and had a gleaming finish. But what was most interesting about them was that they carried a shambolic throne built of crystals and metal, and atop the ugly throne sat an old pruning pale figure in a robe. No doubt, this was the Elder, and he had obviously embellished the title.

“Oh... save me the pomp.” Kale openly sighed and looked at Animo and Avina who appeared physically shaken. “Don’t tell me you buy into this crap...?” He raised an eyebrow, and eventually Avina placed a finger to her lips to reduce him to silence. The Doctor simply shrugged.

After what felt like an eternity of boredom, the throne carrying the cadaveric man was placed on the ground just several metres from Kale. “Animo...” The old man finally said, with an old croaking voice.

“...Go on, my son.” Avina gently pushed Animo forward.

“...G-Great Elder.” Animo lowered his head as a sign of respect.

“This stranger, you found him?” The old man questioned.

“...Yes Great Elder, he was very injured in the Grey Wastes, yet he still managed to save me from a Dire.” Animo kept his head down, his voice trembling slightly. He was truly intimidated, and so was Avina for that matter. This ‘Elder’ as he called himself must have been some kind of tyrannical leader. “...But that was before I saw the tail... of course.”

The tail!? What about his tail? Kale looked down at his waist and allowed his tail to unravel. Did they know what species he was? If so, he supposed they had reason to be cautious.

“And you know what a danger his species is to our way of life, don’t you son? You know about the Saiyans and Fear? Are you sure he saved you? His race is not renowned for their acts of mercy...” So they did know of his species, everything was beginning to fit into place. They must have had an encounter with the Saiyans long ago, but what was mysterious was that somehow they had managed to survive.

Finally, the Doctor cut short his silence. “Hi, I’m the Saiyan, that’s me.” He raised a hand and waved at the apprehensive circle of warriors. “But you can call me Kale, everyone else does.” Kale nodded curtly, before continuing. “Interesting that you know who I am, when it doesn’t even look like you know what a wheel is. I’m surmising my species nearly wiped you out at some point or another, yes- and you rebuilt from the ashes? I mean, where else would you get all this tech from...?” The Doctor crossed his arms inquisitively.

Whispers instantly erupted from the surrounding crowd, and quickly those murmurs turned to frantic incoherent babble. The Elder suddenly raised a hand and a cloak of silence fell over the guards. “Your species came from above with strobes of light that could melt wood and steel alike. They caused untold devastation to our planet before we were forced to stop them. Now, because of them, we are all that remains of Ruina.”

Kale suddenly uncrossed his arms and stroked his chin. Stop them – these people? How was that even possible? Had the runt of the Saiyan litter tried to invade their world or something – had it been Ikolo’s relatives? Speaking of Ikolo, what had even become of her? Kale stroked the sharp stubble imbedded in his chin as he queried the old man’s words. This was all very interesting, but, a story for another time perhaps. All he cared about was getting back to the others. For all he knew Keyla, Celeria and Magma’s lives hung in the balance. He couldn’t be 100 percent certain of Broly’s destruction. And even if that monster had perished, that never solved the problem of Brokka. He had to return to them, and he had to do it sooner rather than later.

“Yeah, see, all of that is really interesting, but I don’t much care.” He smiled. Animo looked up at him in utter surprise, almost unbelieving of the fact that somebody could speak to this Elder in such fashion. “My people probably did reign on your parade a couple of decades ago... or centuries, judging by your age.” Kale covered his mouth but failed to prevent himself from hiding the laughter.

The crowd ignited in noise again, this time it was the sound of outrage. They lifted their forked spears and jeered at the Doctor. Kale sighed, and lifted a single finger. Suddenly, a minute glowing ball of white energy emerged from his fingertip, and in less than a second he fired a barrage of these miniature projectiles. Each grain of ki utterly eviscerated each guard’s rustic spear. The crowd instantly fell back, and silence reigned once more. Avina approached Kale in a scurry, her face welling with dread.

“What are you doing, stranger? Our lives hang in the balance, and you toy with them...” Her pupils flared at the gravity of her words.

“Don’t sweat it...” The Doctor whispered to her. “I’m just making a point.” Finally, he turned back to the Elder and addressed the entire congregation. “If I were LITERALLY any other member of my species right now, you would ALL be dead.” He nodded slowly. “Especially you...” The Doctor gestured towards the Elder. “We relish knocking the high and mighty off their perch, and we’ve gotten real good at it too. Plus, your perch is really rusty and fragile, it wouldn’t take much.” He lowered his brow and continued. “But, luckily for you, you got the social anomaly of the species, who has no such penchant for needless destruction.”

The Elder raised a hand again, but silence never returned as easily this time. “Then what do you want, Saiyan? Do not attempt to trifle with us, from out of our anguish led the destruction of your people. Do not underestimate this world...” His tone leaked an ominous vibe, but Kale couldn’t care enough to investigate further.

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist. I just want my ship, you know, the round thing I arrived in? Just point me in the right direction and you can go back to... building tents, or whatever you people do.”

“Your vessel, yes, a search team was dispatched shortly after your arrival here to retrieve it.” The Elder nodded and suddenly a section of the circle parted, and a dozen guards carried the space pod towards Kale. Unfortunately, it looked like it had been heavily damaged by Broly’s assault, and no doubt the subsequent landing. As the guard’s placed the ship down, Kale raced towards it and inspected the interior. The navigation software appeared to be fried, and the hull had suffered several critical breaches. This ship was going nowhere, not if he couldn’t find the pieces to fix it. He released a heavy sigh, his head conking against the outer layer of the space pod. What was he going to do?

“Now leave here, as you said you would.” The Elder commanded.

“...I can’t.” The Doctor shook his head in resignation. “It’s broken, it won’t move.”

“It is what!?” Outrage rung through the Elder’s every word.

Kale stood up, his previously gleeful expression replaced with malice. “Get your decrepit fingers out of your ears old man, I said it’s broken!” The crowd of guards recoiled again at the sound of Kale’s rising voice.

“My people, my people... do NOT accept Fear. Remember it has no domain here, I have elevated you from that affliction.” The Elder said, spouting some kind of garbage mantra. “Then you will find some other means of leaving.” He finally said to Kale.

Suddenly, Animo ran towards Kale with light in his eyes. The boy, for the first time since Kale had encountered him, was brimming with something other than fear. “What about the Grey Wastes, where I found you? Your vessel is made from the same kind of materials. You could find the right fabrics to repair it there...”

Kale’s frown instantly morphed into a grin. Yes of course! The entire planet was a wasteland of a much more advanced civilisation. That was why they had retrofitted their basic technology with different types of metal and crystal. It all originated from that bygone age! This was great news, if he could just find some basic equipment then Kale could be out of this backwater in a couple of days.

“Well done kid, you’re right.” Kale extended his hand and placed it on Animo’s miniature shoulder. “You saved me twice now. I won’t forget that.” The Doctor winked at Animo, his smile widening.

“Then so be it. You will remain until you can procure the instruments to repair your vessel, then, you will leave.” The guards suddenly picked up the Elder in his throne.

“...That’s the plan. Trust me; I’ve got better things to be doing than getting threatened with giant forks.” Kale saluted.

“In the interim, you will remain with Avina, and her residence will be under observation by a contingency of the guard. Do not overstay your welcome, Saiyan.” The Elder revealed that last revelation before being carried back into his rusty high castle.

Kale shifted his posture until he was facing Avina, and he half-smiled. “Guess I’m your new lodger.”
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PostSubject: Re: Fear, hope and Everything In-between.    Fear, hope and Everything In-between.  I_icon_minitimeFri Oct 02, 2015 2:27 pm

When Brokka moved it was titanic. Every time he cast a fist, or fired a volley, it was packed with the colossal force of pure Super Saiyan might. Each combo, be it simple or complex, was a tirade of generations of Saiyan battle prowess and expertise. The General’s body was a vessel for war, crafted by the fires of revolution and tested in the shadows of the Tree of Might. Be it a simple training exercise or battle for the ages, Brokka was not one to suspend any of his resources. His pale aura trundled like a tornado around his chiselled frame, and his quick strikes caused distortions in the air. As he bound through the training area, he was focused solely on his prime directive. He was strong, stronger than the vast majority of living warriors in the universe, but still that wasn’t strong enough. He would advance, and he would discover a new power, one not known even in Saiyan legend. He would be the next chapter of the Saiyan story, and it would be the epilogue.

Broly had too easily rejected the General’s mightiest techniques, which had brought Brokka to the very brink. He would never forgive this glaring oversight; he would never again allow himself to become blinkered to the potential threats that existed in the universe. Yes Freeza was dead, and his dynasty ruined, but that simply meant that more would rise to claim his throne. And, it was Brokka’s birthright to be one step ahead of these threats at all times. The only master who would sit at the throat of the galaxy was Brokka, and he would do this by reducing all opposition to dust. But, as vast as his powers had become, and regardless of the enemies he had cremated with his own burning hands, he knew that somewhere in the dark recesses of the galaxy another Broly dwelled. It was a matter of time before he met another such giant of war, and when that day came he had to make that giant look small.

Immersed in his own mind’s machinations, the General continued to train with the full ferocity of his standard form. But, as he lunged forward to execute a simple punch, he found his smouldering hand jammed in the palm of another. His eyes instantly searched for the source of the disruption, and of no surprise to him it was the Commander. In the seconds that immediately followed, his hand remained in her grasp as he stared her clinical expression down with fierce determination. After a moment, his fist unscrewed until it was a flat palm, and with the ebbing of his ki, he forced Celeria’s hand away. Brokka’s fist returned to his side, and he grinned.

“Getting sloppy I see. By my estimation, you should have been fully healed an hour ago. No doubt it's the company you keep, rusting your skills.”

Celeria's brow furrowed as she relinquished her grip on the General's clenched fist. Her posture was one of cold and rigid propriety. The Commander felt bitterness pooling in the pit of her stomach, yet her ruthlessly stoic expression betrayed nothing as she rested her hands to her sides.

"Spare me the pleasantries. I've come to talk."

Brokka’s smile was a facade. Celeria’s presence, although expected, was not welcomed. This impertinent fool had much to answer for, and now was the time to drop the conversational pretence. Warriors were not vessels of words; they let their might do the talking. And Brokka would not indulge the Commander in idle chatter, instead he would rip off one of her extremities at a time until she answered for what she had done. He had been too busy, too distracted by Broly and the subsequent mutation to make Celeria answer for her deception, but now was as good a time as any.

“No. You’re here to answer for your trickery.” A menacing scowl dressed the General’s entire jaw. And, he barrelled forward, his bulging body a juggernaut of vengeance. Suddenly, Brokka drove the butt of his skull into Celeria’s face, causing her to recoil backward. “Confess... Now.” His head tilted to one side and he spat. She had played an elaborate game with his property for generations, and now she would answer for it.

The Commander staggered back as a thin stream of blood trickled across her lips, the scent of her own blood filling her nostrils as she straightened up and smeared it off. Her gaze had never left the General. At first, her eyes revealed a tempered caution. Now, however, they were brimming with disgust.

"You... are pathetic."

The muscles that formed Brokka’s hand instinctively contracted, and his fingers curled into a fist. Anger perforated his gut like a carving knife to a tender thigh. Frivolity came out of her mouth, but nothing of substance. Where was this fool’s spine – had she swallowed it like she had her pride? She had birthed Brokka’s son years ago, and she had cradled him like a dark secret languishing in the shadows. Her actions were an affront to the General; they were an affront to any warrior. To be denied one’s own flesh and blood was akin to being stabbed in the back. No warrior, no matter how cruel or bloodthirsty, was worthy of such a disgrace. Brokka had very little in the way of decorum or grace, but pride and the continuation of a warrior’s bloodline was paramount to the Saiyan species. Celeria had betrayed this code; she had desecrated it.

“Your words are impotent, fool. Tell me what I deserve to know, nothing else...” The General’s brows lowered, and his onyx pupils contracted, until they became pin drops in the gray oasis of his eyes.
Celeria's expression remained unchanged as the General seethed. Then, the Commander arched an eyebrow as she made a few slow and tempered steps forward, commencing to pace around the General slowly.

"- Think -, Brokka. There is an entity inside me that still threatens to consume me whole. Should any physical confrontation arise between us now, it would run its course until we are both on the precipice of death, triggering the dormant matter. Would you have the beast return and devour us all, then?" - She positioned herself behind him, tilting her head inquisitively.

"You left me to die. You murdered my men. Indeed, there is nothing I would want more than to end you now when I have the chance. Yet attempting to do so is - not - a luxury I can afford."

Her breath pranced against Brokka’s neck, and he felt the follicles embedded in his skin awaken. He snickered, the laughter rumbling in his throat like tectonic plates crashing together. Utterly perfect, she was paralysed by the fear of the beast that gripped her from the inside. She was intimidated by it, she never gave an ounce away but he could tell. The Celeria that Brokka had met would gladly have initiated another opportunity to dress her wall with his gray mane, but now she was an altogether different entity. Finally, he arched his shoulders until he met with the Commander’s titanium gaze. If threats were her sport, then so be it. He was a Super Saiyan, and no abomination that whispered in the dark corners of her mind would hinge him. He couldn’t be defeated by a parasitic monster, and he was willing to put this notion to the test. But his priority was still the same, his son had been taken from him, and she would afford him the dignity of a response.

“Then you better get talking, if you don’t want that thing to return, that is.” His grin widened, there was no merriment.

"You're seeking answers, yet asking no questions." - She locked his gaze with her own as he faced her, her voice lowering into a hushed growl.

The Commander closed the distance between them in a slow, predatory gait, instinctively hunching her back ever so slightly, readying herself to initiate or deflect an attack at any moment. She leaned in closer, invading his personal space resolutely, without an inkling of restraint nor apprehension.

She steadily tilted her head ever so slightly, her eyes still upon him as she pressed her cold, even breath against his skin, still glistening with perspiration from the arduous training.

"What is it you want of me, then?" - Her tone was seemingly devoid of any emotion, yet each syllable rang with commanding poise.

He pressed forward still, until only a modicum of space remained between them. His eyes, wide and attentive, scrutinised Celeria’s sharp fox-like facial structure. She appeared to convey many things – belligerence, hostility, even ignorance, but it appeared that she truly had no scope of what he was saying. This caused the curdling bile in Brokka’s gut to still, somewhat. So then, she wasn’t foolish enough to keep playing games with the General, this was good, he had imagined the Commander was imbued with some degree of sense. His gut simmered, slowly, but then in a passing wave of fury it boiled. Suddenly, Brokka lifted an open palm to his side, and a burning white, smouldering ball of ki erupted from his fingers. Instantly, the energy collided with the side wall, causing a section of the metal to immediately erode, creating an opening to the adjacent room.

Through gritted teeth and a scrunched, malignant grimace, Brokka enunciated his question loud and clearly. “Our son... You concealed his existence from me, didn’t you?”

"I did." - She uttered, without a shred of hesitation as her brow furrowed. She made a mental note to prevent any further damage to the ship.

"I would not have had him suffer Colly's fate. Regardless, he is dead. I... know this." - She paused for a moment, reigning in the subtle pangs of voicing what she had known for a long time now.

"For what it's worth, he showed merit and soared through the ranks. However, neither my training nor our combined heritage could preserve him in the end. Let us say he inherited a character fault that I suspect played a part in his demise." - Her expression exuded bitterness, from her narrowed eyes to the slight yet striking curve of her lips.

"Do you presume to judge me for it? As if you would not have done the same. As if you - had - not - already - done the same, whisking your offspring off their feet and into their deaths, one by one." - Her tone was cutting, the harshness of her tone rising unabated.

"The saiyan race is on the verge of extinction. Who knows what awaits us out there, in the darkness of space. Spare us both the dramatics. This is not about the child but - your - bruised ego." - She paused for a moment to collect herself, yet failing.

"The child is -dead-, Brokka. Neither of us wins. We have greater threats to consider or we shall undoubtedly suffer the same fate. Consider, just once, what might happen next before you deliver any more damage to our people and our ship." - She shifted her weight to one leg, crossing her arms as her posture loosened somewhat. Her eyes, however, remained locked on him intently.
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PostSubject: Re: Fear, hope and Everything In-between.    Fear, hope and Everything In-between.  I_icon_minitimeTue Oct 06, 2015 1:39 pm

In daylight, the Grey Wastes still glimmered with the tarnished splendour of a diminished metropolis. The devastation stretched out further than the eye could see; an infinite debris field of an endless cityscape, foretelling of a time when this primitive society had mastered all things, from nuclear fusion to aviation. The dull, derelict hollow city towers still climbed as high as the clouds, and the vehicles still lingered on their respective street corners. But, unlike the little village Kale had awoken to, this world, once positively teaming with life, was utterly dead. No one lived in the crude metal skyscrapers anymore, and nobody drove the rusting vehicles or used the dilapidated roads and walkways. The Grey Wastes were a museum, no, a mausoleum of Runia’s past. Yet, the lives that thrived on this world now were like a microcosm of ancient history, completely divorced from the holocaust of horrors that must have befallen their advanced ancestors. How had this happened – what had maintained these primal creatures in this devolved form? Kale knew that his species never did half-jobs. If they set out to conquer a world then all inhabitants were wiped away like condensation on glass. What perplexed him was not that this world was in tatters, but that the tatters had managed to survive, fight back, and even win against Saiyans. This narrative was nonsensical to him, and he knew there was more to it than was being divulged, but, time was no luxury, and all of his mental resources had to be given to returning to his friends.

Kale surfed through the debris field, his body submerged in layers of disused and ancient tech. He cast his attentive gaze across the swathes of abandoned machinery, carefully scanning each and every ancient object for its possible utility in repairing his space pod. For hours his hands fished through piles of oily and useless tech, all the while his mind distracted by the curiosities he would occasionally hook out of the metal ocean.

“Ooooow, a cerebral modulator, yeah it’s in shabby condition, but the things I could do with this baby back at the med bay...” He spun his fingers around the tarnished device, and used the rim of his sleeve to polish the murky shell.

“Can you use this to repair your vessel, Kale?” Animo asked, with wide inquisitive eyes.

“...Oh, no, no way! In that regard it’s useless.” Like hundreds of ancient devices before it, the Doctor unceremonious launched it over his shoulder into his sorting pile of ‘useless’ tech. “This strategy isn’t going to plan Animo, I think we need another...” He long, flat fingers eclipsed his chin, and his fingertips forced a cleft in the skin. “Maybe if I...” He lightly smiled. “I’ve got it. Wait here...”

“...Where are you going to go? You’re stuck in a pile of-“ Animo said with a furrowed brow.

Suddenly, Kale blasted through the heap of tech, and trinkets ricocheted in all directions, clanking against one another. As he soared through the air and climbed a couple of hundred feet, he looked down at the miles upon miles of devastation, and searched for a more lucrative spot. But alas, even with his advanced Saiyan senses, this task was frivolous. There was a whole world’s worth of garbage here, and he wasn’t even sure any of it was compatible with his ship. The odds of success were-

“...KALE! KALE! H-HOW ARE YOU DOING THAT!? ONLY THE BIRDS CAN FLY...!” Poor Animo yelled at the height of his lungs, his voice exasperated by this unknown spectacle.

“Oh, yeah, the flying thing...” The Doctor scratched his head and suddenly descended, his body neatly returning to the ground. “We Saiyans can fly, it’s a neat trick... I should teach you.” He winked passively, his full attention still given to the debris field.

“W-what, you mean I could do that?” The boy’s voice danced at the very notion.

“Yeah, sure, I don’t see why not. Couple of days and you’ll be, I dunno, floating a few of inches off the ground...?” Kale traded the pale boy a goofy grin, but there was little to smile about. At this rate he was going to be stranded here for all eternity. He was beginning to rate his body’s chances in the vacuum of space. He released a lumbered sigh, “No good kid, this is no good at all. I wish I had my scouter, but it probably got lost in the field somewhere when I crashed.”

“What does your scouter do?” Animo asked, moving closer to Kale.

“It can tell me where things are, very specific things.” Kale nodded along, submerged in a whole host of alternate plans.

“Is it pink?” The pale boy said, rooting through a small satchel strapped to his waist.

“...Yeah, it is actually.” The Doctor’s curiosity peaked as he peered down at the tiny boy standing beneath him holding his scouter firmly in his little hands! “WHAT!? How did you find that?” His mouth fell ajar, this kid was like a box of incredible tricks.

“Oh, well, I found it in your ship when I carried you out of it... I thought it must have been yours, but you never asked for it until now, so I guessed it wasn’t important.” He shrugged, but his small, pale face searched for confirmation.

Kale ruffled his hand over the kid’s smooth head and smiled again. “Remind me to take you with me when I leave, you’re a lifesaver. That’s three times now kid!” Kale scooped the scouter from out of Animo’s small hands, the boy smiled, and skipped away, ecstatic at the Doctor’s regard for him. Quickly, Kale attached the scouter and immediately noticed that the screen was fractured in several places. What’s more, the communications array was knackered, so he couldn’t cheat and send his location to Celeria. But, as he cycled through the barely working functions of the small device, the Doctor noticed that it could still identify certain energy signatures. He silently cheered as he activated the search function. Suddenly, thousands of electronic pulses were detected through the device, but few of them were useful. Slowly, Kale tweaked the search settings to disregard useless energy signatures, and in minutes he had whittled the search process down to several possible items.

“I’ve got... something. Come on kid!” The Doctor swept Animo up by his torso and levitated across the great expanse.

“I-I’m flying! Incredible...” Animo struggled to express, his voice cracking through all the adrenaline.

“I know, right? Now check this out...” Kale upped the speed, suddenly they were dashing through the air in a blur.

“WOOOOAH... I THINK I’M GONNA...” Suddenly, they stopped dead in midair and descended, touching down in another pile of debris. “K-Kale... I think I’m going to-“The Doctor was too busy to attend to Animo, who had begun swaying left to right with delayed vertigo. Instead, Kale frantically searched through the heaps of garbage and ancient tech, until finally he fished out a familiar object.

“YES! A nav-system. And I can retrofit this too!” He continued to search, and in the moments that followed he encountered the same success. “And a dual power cuppling... that’ll power the nav-system... Come on baby, just a... YES!! A phantom gyroscope! I need that... and this obsidian mesh...”

“K-Kale... I-I can’t-“

Eventually, with arms full of mismatched ship parts and a wide, self-satisfied grin, Kale turned his attention to the groaning Animo.

“What are you doing down there kid?” Kale’s brows scrunched and he leaned over Animo who was spread out in the debris.

“T-Too fast...”

“Ah you’ll get used to it...” He said with a spring in his step, hopping over the boy’s dazed body. “Now, let’s do it again, but much higher and faster in the direction of your village.” The Doctor closed his eyes and smiled coyly.

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PostSubject: Re: Fear, hope and Everything In-between.    Fear, hope and Everything In-between.  I_icon_minitimeTue Jun 21, 2016 12:07 pm

His eyes stalked her every move; his ears listened to the nuances of her tone, and noted each pause and shift in intonation as she detailed the demise of their son. She prodded Brokka's ego, attempting to subdue the furnace of his temper by detailing the flaws by which their son met his eventual end. Then, like a ringmaster, she tried to cage the General's fury like some kind of unkempt beast, by reminding him of the fragility of the vessel in which they travelled. She wasn't altogether wrong, a fully fledged conflict between Super Saiyans could not be contained by a bucket of bolts, their theatre would have to be a world... No, a solar system. This conflict would - mark Brokka's words - inevitably happen. The base desire to annihilate his only true living competitor was immeasurable, but, more important than their personal vendetta were the questions that superseded this clash of gods. First of all, there was Prince Vegeta, the traitor who was dwelling on a planet named Earth. The General was not only repulsed by his survival, but surmised that the royal bastard was to blame for robbing him of Freeza's slaughter. This would cost him everything.

His mammoth fists which were screwed into knots suddenly opened, and the pent up ki which brimmed in his centre subsided. His onyx glare, as scrutinizing as it was, watched Celeria's neutral expression. To an outsider, she gave nothing away, to Brokka, he could read her like the ink on a page. She could feel his shift in demeanour, but she wouldn't allow herself to drop even the modicum of a defence. The General's lips drew thin, and his glower eviscerated into a wide, revealing grin.

"When next I face you, the entire universe shall be our theatre. And no entity, no matter how malevolent, will stop me." His words were terse, but he snickered over each syllable. "You've bought yourself time, Commander." He pressed forward, coming all the closer, until his natural body heat subsumed her. "Now, down to the most pressing matter..."

The Commander breathed a slow, shallow and almost imperceptible sigh of relief. Though, knowing the General full well, she remained on edge. As he began to close in on her, Celeria arched her back and straightened her stance. She was an immovable obstacle in Brokka's path, mentally and physically, as her dark eyes observed his approach with overt indifference, save for a slight furrowing of the brow.

"Which is?" - she offered, inquisitively tilting her head a touch to the side.

Otherwise, she remained still, perfectly so. Yet her tensed muscles and lightly clenched jaw suggested continued readiness to a trained eye.

She was receptive to his presence, just as she always had been. As she tilted her head to one side inquisitively, Brokka leaned in ever so subtly to occupy the empty space. It was only when the gap between them was so meagre that the difference between their height was so evident. His grin intensified and her eyes lost none of their vigour. Now he was just playing with her, and he revelled in the game.

"You won't be seeing the back of me just yet, Commander. We have a common destination, you and I. You're going to Earth, tell me why." He said in a part whisper. He watched Celeria closely, noticing that the gash that he had just seconds ago inflicted upon her had already dried, and the blood had left a crimson track running through her brow.

"To find out the truth. To find the one who ended Frieza, and the Ginyu Force. And to confront them."

Her tone was stern, her hardened grimace remaining unfazed. However, despite her rigid posture and the calculated indifference of her expression, there was a rare glimmer in the Commander's eye. A zeal, a conviction that unequivocally suggested expectation. Maybe even hope. The Commander's heartrate began to go up and the General no doubt felt the resolve of her physique, priming itself to strike or defend at any moment.

"And you?" She paused for a moment, an uneasy silence setting in almost instantly. Her unwavering gaze bored into his eyes throughout this close-quartered standoff.

"Why would you go there?"

"Because, somehow, Prince Vegeta survived and has taken refuge on the planet." The General felt a familiar shift in the Commander's aura, as she primed herself for any possibility. He wouldn't strike, not now, he'd already made his intention clear. Yes, there was still a debt to pay, but here he would exact no revenge. A dormant part of Celeria became active in Brokka's presence, no doubt it caused her Saiyan genetics to flare. That was what this awakening in her every fibre was. Even without the threat of combat, his mere presence energised her on a base level. He expected nothing less, of course, as he was the pinnacle of his species, and even a bitter rival such as she could not deny that.

"I assume, as inconceivable as it may seem, that Vegeta was the one to put the final nail in Freeza's reign." Brokka lifted his open palm, and hovered it above the Commander's forearm. Her flesh was like a radiator, permeating with energy. But, before touching her, he retracted his hand and took a step back. Now they were in conversational proximity. His grin loosened until his expression matched Celeria's. "His father, for all his tactical ingenuity, was no Super Saiyan, nor was he capable of spawning one. I want to question him, and I want to make him answer for taking Freeza's death from me. Then, I will kill him."

The General folded his bulking arms which served to accentuate the mass of his torso. And, he specifically noted the lack of surprise dressing Celeria's features. "You're not surprised. You know of his survival already."


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PostSubject: Re: Fear, hope and Everything In-between.    Fear, hope and Everything In-between.  I_icon_minitimeThu Feb 15, 2018 11:17 am

Celeria crossed her arms, her features suddently tensing into a bitter glare.

"Shortly after my awakening on Delta-2814, the colony received an irregular signal off a nearby planetoid. When I went to investigate, I found the Prince and informed him that a contingency of loyal warriors were alive and at his command."

Celeria paused and the silence fell as heavy as a mountain. Her lower lip quivered with subdued, but seething rage as she met Brokka's gaze, her eyes burning with indignation.

"He dismissed us all as inconsequential and annihilated me with a single attack, as if he were brushing off an insect." The Commander's muscles tensed as she took deep and slow breaths.
"I am not entirely sure how I survived. But, I've reason to believe that the planetoid was where I contracted this... parasite." She raised her left hand and stared at it, scowling at it with unrestrained disgust. Her eyes returned to scrutinize Brokka.

"But yes, given his aptitude in the confrontation with me, I do not consider it unlikely that it was indeed Vegeta who ended Frieza. And I doubt that's the last of the surprises awaiting us on Earth." Celeria rested her palm back on her elbow, evidently managing to contain her outrage and relaxing her stance somewhat.

- - -
The General's brows furrowed, caving a pronounced 'V' shape into his forehead. As he listened to the Commander's account of her chance encounter with Prince Vegeta, he was helpless to prevent his sharp, angular features drawing into a contorted grimace at the centre of his face. At the conclusion of her explanation, Brokka tried to mask his displeasure by wearing a veiled grin, but his eyes still bore into Celeria's, meaning his glare was still as thin as a closing pincer, causing the scars that dressed both of his eyes to crinkle and deform his skin further.

"If your strength was consistent with what I encountered on your colony, then it stands as no surprise that the boy Prince bested you. After all, you were weak, and commanded only a modicum of the power you have now. " He shifted his bulking mass until he was facing away from the Commander, before continuing, "Still, I confess that I had been imbued by... artificial means during our combat, which made your defeat child's play. It may be possible that Prince Vegeta used the same methods. After all, his father was no warrior prodigy, he united the clans by inspiring loyalty, not by exerting power. For the Prince to best a natural born warrior like you, Commander, it would require more than his birth-given talents could muster..."

His back still turned from Commander Celeria, Brokka shifted his head to one side, his chin touching his trapezius muscle, allowing him to meet her gaze again. "Accompany me, and we can get to the root of this anomaly together. Then, we can... Conclude our business with one another." His smirk extended from ear to ear, and his eyes widened again, stretching his scars to their proper length. "Though, this beast you're harbouring might have something to say about all this... What is it, exactly?"

- - -

Celeria's brow perked in surprise when Brokka recounted that he had used external means to amplify his power. The Commander's opinion on the matter required no elaboration. Her disdainful expression was sufficiently telling. But, she evidently decided not to press the matter any further... for now. Her grimace appeared to soften somewhat when the conversation was shifted to the creature.

"I am not sure. It appears to exist externally, independently of me. The Doctor and I encountered it on planet Umirion... after it had successfully devoured all of its inhabitants, including a highly-trained and heavily-armed PTO batallion." Her features softened further with a touch of concern, but her resolve returned in an instant.

"After defeating the creature, I had neutralized the planet. But, evidently... that wasn't enough. This symbiosis, although rendering me effectively immortal, threatens to undermine me altogether each time I am near death. To what degree I'll be able to control it, I cannot say."

Celeria traded Brokka a grave look, as if communicating her desire for him to end her, should the worst come to pass. His returned glare confirmed his resolve on the matter.

"Without the Doctor, there is little chance of learning more. This is why it is imperative that we retrieve him as soon as possible."

The Commander took a few steps toward the door, stopping in her tracks near the threshold and turning to face Brokka once again.

"Finish your training. It's high time I got back to the search effort." She paused for a moment, her gaze falling to the floor as if she were collecting her thoughts. Celeria raised her eyes a second later.

"Private Keyla explained how I was returned to the ship." She focused the General with a look that, for the first time in decades, was rid of reproach. Instead, it was a mixture of wary respect and earnest gratitude.



"Thank you."

Trading him one last precarious glance, she turned on her heel and proceeded to leave the chamber, the door hissing to a close behind her.


Effectively immortal ...?

The General returned to face Celeria with some haste, looking her dead on. Of course! The Commander had attempted to eviscerate her own form when she was in the throes of symbiosis with the beast, and even that hadn't punctured her life-force. If what she said was true, and as it stood he had no reason to doubt its validity, then the implications were gigantic. It did, however, create issue for Brokka, should he need to compromise her in the near future. But of course, sticking close would enable him to ascertain more about this parasite's composition and possible vulnerabilities, enabling him to neutralise two adversaries, should the situation arise. Ironically, as if by some fateful intervention, it appeared that the paths before each warrior had suddenly gone from forks in the road to intrinsically interwoven. Despite the distance the galaxy had placed between the General and the Commander; despite time and cryo-stasis creating improbable walls to them meeting ever again, here they stood, sharing the same goals, the same destination, and the same ship. If Brokka didn't know any better - and his knowledge was often infallible - he would say something, somewhere was bonding two unlikely beings together, like an alloy formed from two distinctly different metals.

Alas, the General's ruminating concluded as the Commander impressed on him the importance of the search effort for the Doctor. He sharply nodded, feeling no need to trade words. While he didn't invest the same stock in deficient Saiyan genetics like Celeria did, it was in Brokka's best interest to have Kale and his space pod returned to him, as the colonies he had usurped from the crumbling PTO were maintained and connected through his ship's AI. Of course, that matter was unnecessary to share at the current moment, as his imperial ambitions would be revealed to them all in time, anyway.

As self-reverent as ever, the Commander departed the training room, no doubt to rally her allies on board who Brokka would have instantly retired had he presided over them as CO. Yet, before final departure, Celeria did a peculiar thing by revealing her hand and thanking Brokka - albeit in a subdued manner - for his rescue of her unconscious self. The General's body posture remained static at her utterances, and his gaze met hers for what may have felt like perpetuity. Then he blinked and nodded with acuity.

After a long moment, the Commander withdrew, and Brokka, inhaling the tepid yet stale air, turned to face the training utensils and allowed a hurricane of his ki to engulf his form. He swiped at the air, his fists hissing as they hit pockets of artificial gravity. Now, the game was one of waiting.
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