Dragonball M, Chapter 4: Kidnapping! Invasion! A new Threat Strikes First!

[KingofPie]

"Monster!"

"You're unworthy of Zxu'ro's leagacy!"

"Traitor!"

"I could've left...turned over a new leaf. And then you arrived!"

"We summoned you to protect us!"

"We did nothing to you!"

"I'll curse your name until the end of time, if that's what it takes!"

"You ruined my future...her future!"

"You'll never amount to anything. Just another monster..."

"You'll get yours in due time!"

"SHUT UP!!!!" Sasheem roared but the cacophony of voices didn't stop. He had awoken alongside a rocky outcropping in near endless pitch black night. The only lights were from the occasional flashes from the dark clouds that covered the sky. He didn't know where, he was, but if it wasn't hell it was close to it. The monk mentioned something about time and space and yadda yadda. Seemed like whatever he did, displaced some spirits regardless of where they ended up in the afterlife. And it seemed just about all of 'em had a beef with Sasheem.

"Sasheem's heard it all before..." the Majin sighed in irritation. "Too many times! Ya can't make him feel bad!"

"Liar! You've betrayed us! mock us post-mortem by besmirching our legacy!"

"And who're you, a Snake School dropout?!" Sasheem asked sarcastically. "He already made his peace with the Snake Mistress. If he didn't destroy you all, ya woulda done it to yourselves!"

"And what of Fake Namek. We've done nothing to-"

"NOBODY CARES ABOUT FAKE NAMEK!" Sasheem shouted, exasperatedly, picking up a large chunk of rock from the ground and launching it into the abyss below the outcropping he stood on. He had no idea how long he had been walking. Or if there was any end to the outcropping or if it simply never ended. Infinitesimal nothingness. He couldn't help but wonder if this would be the future that would await him had a universe been near completely ravaged by a God of Destruction. The chaotic tide of the universe stifled and quiet. Made boring except for a cavalcade of annoying voices who never ceased to shut up. Bah! If he was the one in charge of destroying things, he'd at least make it more fun. But that wasn't quite what he cared about....it wasn't for a long time.

He fell to the ground, looking defeated. How the hell was he getting out of here. How long would he have to listen to this drivel. But within their complaining there may have been a point.

"You seek to protect the Earth?! What a joke!"

"How can they trust you? They'll all end up the same as us!"

"...Curious," a calm voice spoke out, clearer than the rest. Perhaps that was because he was the only one that wasn't whinging about something or other.

Sasheem looked up and saw a small figure sitting calmly on a boulder, he wasn't quite sure had been present. Some old man. "What is?"



"The way you struggle with guilt. Most bear the weight of their sins against their conscience. You juggle if you should be feeling it at all," the man laughed, exhaling a puff of smoke from his pipe. "Just a curious thing, is all."

"Oh and what are you, Sasheem's spirit guide?" the Majin asked snidely, standing up.

"Oh no," the stranger couldn't help but laugh. "Nothing like that. Don't think I quite have the credentials for that. I'm a craftsman by trade, if you must know."

"Well if ya can't help me, feel free to get outta my way!" Sasheem huffed.

"Why? Doesn't seem like you're going much of anywhere here..." the elder shrugged. Sasheem, intent on responding defiant trudged onward. It wasn't long before walking in a straight line ended up leading him in a complete circle, back to the stranger. "Told you so."

Sasheem raised his arms in objection, but simply crumpled to the floor, hungry. Whatever the nature of this place was, his ability to turn objects into food didn't' seem to work. In fact, nothing did. It was as if this darkness enveloping this place cancelled out all around it. He'd be more infuriated if he wasn't so famished. He didn't even bother throwing a barb back at the old man.

"If I may ask you a question...Hear you mention something about the Snake School?" the old man asked. "Are you a practitioner of one of the Five?

"The Ten now. But yeah...what of it?" Sasheem inquired, raising a brow.

"Hmm..." the old man hummed, as if making a mental note.

"What?"

"And you belong to the Snake?"

"Yes..." Sasheem sighed, picking himself up once more. "You got a point with this or ya wanna loop this conversation around one more time?" he asked, tired of things going round in circles.

"Just making sure. It's not spoken much of these days, the Snake. Or at least back when I was alive. It's said they lost their way," the old man explained.

"Yeah, they lost it alright. Then Sasheem showed 'em where that path would lead a little earlier than they intended. And before ya ask, Yeah. He was the one who wiped 'em out!" The Majin pointed to himself.

"In essence, expelling yourself from the School, had there been any survivors," the old man took another puff his pipe. "But the Snake were said to be a dwindling lot. But their secrecy was as necessary as it was to their detriment, I suppose. ...So, what was it that drew you back. You must've learned enough of their teachings to benefit yourself."

"Power," Sasheem admitted. If the cook and the grump were here, they'd never let him hear the end of it. The thought of all the 'I told you so's! alone were beginning to give him a migraine. "Sasheem wanted to learn all the techniques lost to time. Namely, the Yamata no Orochi Fist. Only the founder of the Snake ever mastered it. All his students and their successors either failed or died in the process. It required something they lacked....something Sasheem lacked. Spirtual balance. They tipped over too much to one side. Sasheem did as well, but he tried to rectify it."

Sasheem looked to the sky, towards the howling voices he was trying to drown out with this conversation. "He studied Doku's teachings. How the style was founded, what it all meant. To protect the Earth from outside threats and from itself...by any means necessary. Do the dark things the other four schools at the time weren't willing to do." Sasheem punched a fist into an open palm. "Sasheem thought he had it in the bag. Seemed like the solution was easy. Do bad things to bad people...."

"But..." the old man offered, sensing the Majin's next words.

"But in the end it was just an excuse. 'Cause more destruction in the name of justice. That's what it always was half the time. An excuse. Sasheem couldn't be the god of Destruction 'cause the forces of the universe favored some pompous Blueberry. He couldn't go out and wreck everything he wanted, 'cause in addition to half the strongest do-gooders in the galaxy forming their own little club, there was way too much competition...he thought he could join the 'good guys' and thin the herd. Buy his time and once all the so-called bad guys were down, he'd take their place."

"Sasheem wanted to destroy it all. The universe, the multiverse. You name it. Nothing personal for the most part. Just seemed like fun," Sasheem continued. "He didn't really care at first. Don't think he really could before he was able to speak, anyway. And destruction wasn't enough, Sasheem wanted to be recognized for it. For anything. Everyone'd either quake in fear or praise him as a hero. Didn't matter who he'd have to kill to do it, still doesn't. He wanted everyone in the universe o bask in his greatness either way."

"Did something change...?" the old man asked, looking idly off to the distance.

"Yeah...Sasheem grew to like the Earth. It was his territory. A place to call home..." he sighed, annoyed that he had to relay it all this sap to some old timer, when it was hard enough telling the Snake Mistress before. His words caused the old man to look at him once more, in consideration. "When Sasheem promised those two stupid goobers he'd protect the Earth while they went on the little Space Trek, he meant it. Not to make himself look good or prove a point. He doesn't care what they or any of those other losers think! If the Earth or any jabroni on it is in danger, Sasheem'll protect it! Recognition doesn't matter! Respect doesn't mean ****! Sasheem'll do it anyway! The Snake School...is the shadow of the other five! Of the ten! We've all got the same goal, but it don't matter if we're hailed as heroes or if our names are dragged through the mud! That's what your teachings taught Sasheem!"

Doku rose his eyebrows in a genuine but welcome surprise at Sasheem's deduction. An expression that became even more fitting as the Majin now kowtowed before him. "So with the Earth and the whole damn universe in danger of being unmade...Sasheem begs you. Teach him....your final technique!"

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Praxat in efficiency mode using Flash hop catches up to Bullick and goes for the sword.

Bulllick moves like greased lightning, literally, and is always behind or above Praxat, slapping her away in a shower of electrical sparks. He lands on another ruined building and points his blade at Praxat, who he went into a rubble pile 100 yards away.

“You need to do better. Your form is predictable.”

[bruceleegreyhulk]

Bulllick moves like greased lightning, literally, and is always behind or above Praxat, slapping her away in a shower of electrical sparks. He lands on another ruined building and points his blade at Praxat, who he went into a rubble pile 100 yards away.

“You need to do better. Your form is predictable.”

" You want to play hardball? Let's play hardball," Praxat said. Praxat then goes into Boost mode and uses Galaxy Police tactics to go for the sword with her body giving up steam, and her arm and leg muscles inflated.

( Do I dare use it? No, I should just stick to Boost Mode for the time being. If I have no other option, then I'll use it,) Praxat thought.

[Sub-Zero MKA]

"Pantaloon was insistent we not fall behind the wider universe. I only provided the means for him to do so."

Receiving Maiz's gift, the man seemed somewhat dumbfounded at first as he held the leaves and seeds, but accepted them graciously nonetheless.

"Heh, an heirloom variety, how thoughtful," Ochazuke remarked. Even in the crowded air it aroma bloomed, verdant and floral. "I do recall you took yours green."

I wonder how it stands to the rigours of ferment and oxidation. Its characteristics may be markedly different from Earth's varieties.

"Perhaps when the first harvest is successful, I might discuss the finer points of tea culture with you. All in due time."

"You're welcome," Maiz replied with a smile. "I noticed you made tea after you rescued me. I'm sure you won't take it as a token of thanks for rescuing me, so think of it as an offering of goodwill."

She still had to visit with Eva, meaning she would have to travel to Earth at some point. Perhaps she would wait a while, at least until this harvest was over, then kill two birds with one stone. "Yes, I'd like that.

"Cheh. I did nothing. This is the result of hard work from those who aspire with sincerity," Ochazuke said. "If it is true that justice has a place for people outside of a cage or the lash of retribution, then given the chance, people will find it as yours have."

The words were spoken plainly, yet held something of a bittersweet edge. In some small way, with the turn of events that came once Earth reclaimed itself from the shadow of Grinthorn, such a pithy ideal he himself had slowly begin to thaw towards, but for the Destroyer who had cast them off when she departed their ranks. Though the numbers may have been diminished, in each order they still held fast to face their fight, but not without consequence.

"I heard about Rutaba. Nobody, least of all her, deseves to die so callously. My condolences," he said grimly, "From what I heard, however, I'm certain Sarada is seeing to the task of making things right as we speak."

A ruthless creature like Tundra clung to an ancient, savage hierarchy, of fear and bloodlust and conquest. Pinach was just a boy the last time he saw him, his sister a girl when he first met her. How many more times would battles like these need to be fought?

With this in mind, his words turned back to Maiz.

"If the other planets of the Saiyan Empire are as far along as Langal, then your stewardship over them is most commendable. Pertaining to this, however, there is a matter of dire urgency I wish to discuss with you."

For a moment he has a glance over his shoulder. The absent Zaofan's face lit up in the hologram hanging over the reception crowd, his image seeming to conduct the tide of celebration and good fortune and hospitality between worlds. It wouldn't do to spoil the mood.

"But not here. In private."

Ochazuke's humble refusal to accept even a little of the credit for the Saiyans' judicial reform drew a smile from Maiz and Pinach. "Justice has a place for everyone everywhere!" Pinach said cheerfully, truly the first time he sounded like his old self in some time. "They just have to know where to find it." Yet, at the mention of his cousin, any mirth evaporated like a drop of dew under the morning sun. He let out a shuddering breath. "She tried to buy me time so I could get Sarada to safety," he said quietly. "The last moment I saw her was her getting vap-..." He let out a choked sob and quickly turned away. "I'm sorry."

Maiz frowned as she watched the man fly away, not toward the city, but toward the mountains to the east. "He hasn't been the same since she died. Sarada and Parsley mourned her, as well, but I raised her and Pinach together like siblings." She sighed and looked in the direction he flew in, even though he was no longer visible. "Thankfully, Sarada already dealt with Tundra a few months ago. We dismantled his expansive empire with help from the Galaxy Police. Now, it's only a matter of finding homes for the billions of slaves he kidnapped from their homes. Slaves, I admit, we played a part in enslaving."

How many of the worlds she herself conquered ended up under Tundra's thumb? How many people had she slain in unwitting service to him? It was nightmarish to consider, but at least that specter was finally gone. "As for Rutaba, I still intend on traveling to Namek to learn how to craft my own balls. Even if that puts my own life at risk, so be it. Rutaba was only fourteen; she deserves a second chance at life."

She turned back to face him. "I'd be mistaken to try and take any credit. I only try my best to guide the people best able to effect change." She gestured for him to follow her, then flew a short distance away. She landed in a verdant meadow next to a bubbling brook. "What was it you needed to speak about?"

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

" You want to play hardball? Let's play hardball," Praxat said. Praxat then goes into Boost mode and uses Galaxy Police tactics to go for the sword with her body giving up steam, and her arm and leg muscles inflated.

( Do I dare use it? No, I should just stick to Boost Mode for the time being. If I have no other option, then I'll use it,) Praxat thought.

He turns into lightning and dances away, always one pillar, one ruin away when Praxat strikes. On her third attempt, she swings in close but just before she can a massive lightning bolt cracks the sky and strikes in front of her, blinding her like a solar flare.

While blind, she hears him behind her.

“Thunder! Roar! Echo!”

Massive concussive thunderclaps rain down on Praxat from all sides, throwing all her senses into chaos as her body gets tossed around.

[bruceleegreyhulk]

He turns into lightning and dances away, always one pillar, one ruin away when Praxat strikes. On her third attempt, she swings in close but just before she can a massive lightning bolt cracks the sky and strikes in front of her, blinding her like a solar flare.

While blind, she hears him behind her.

“Thunder! Roar! Echo!”

Massive concussive thunderclaps rain down on Praxat from all sides, throwing all her senses into chaos as her body gets tossed around.

( Dammit, I have no choice. I have to use it) Praxat thought. Praxat reverts back to her normal form, then suddenly her power gets a massive boost, but her body doesn't change. However, her eyes are now glowing blue with bioelectricity.

Praxat attempts to focus her senses on the fly as she goes for the sword. Using her own methods involving dancing, martial arts, and Galaxy Police tactics. As she does this, her body is in sync with her mind.

[Sub-Zero MKA]

Pacing through the archive of the Saiyan Empire, the science officers tread behind as quietly - as quietly as the exoskeleton suits would allow, anyway - hanging onto every word they spoke. Their helmet HUDs took in the sight in totality, each moment recorded and not a single word or piece of footage lost as they went, merely taking in the history as they went.

The soldier escorts, not nearly as adorned as their studious counterparts, seemed to be more ready for conversation whether they flew or stood at the ready.

"You have a ferocious reputation, certainly," the military man, Master Chief Petty Office Spopovich remarked, thumbing his chin with a nod. "Five hundred years, across...how many worlds did you say? It's no wonder why."

Pois' resignation at the mention of historical bloodshed did not go unnoticed, and the man gave her a moment of silence in solidarity. "We've been on a long road headed your way, and it does seem to be an unfortunate commonality between many great peoples across the universe, present company and ourselves included." His eye scanned the multi-storied library, corner to corner, column to archway, as if he spotted something keen in the structure, laughing lightly about something silently as if he'd remembered some private joke.

"Ah! War! Cruel mistress that she is! She is the muse for innovation, mobilizes men with her red veil of courage that swells the heart so large until it bleeds with passion," Spopovich continued, "She promises you the world in exchange for many a favour...but seldom does she deliver, for she only has affection for the one that desires her most."

Crossing over to where some of the roots knotted the ground, he took a knee and inspected the intersection between overgrowth and masonry.

"Truly remarkable, this house of knowledge. We have a saying on Earth, that to kill a man it is not enough to make him bleed, you must strike out his name from the history. Only then is there nothing left. You still remember the Cryomancers, this is good. Perhaps if our last President had been so merciful as this, we too might have had a Grand Hall of our own by now."

Pois sighed heavily, but not out of annoyance. "Hundreds," she answered. "Too many to count, to be honest. We sadly weren't alone in doing it, either." It seemed that even the humans had experience with that sort of thing, if Spopovich's peculiar outburst was any indication. She smiled and tilted her head. "It seems Might Makes Right is the one thing that unites the starways, sadly. The strong find solidarity in the strong and the weak find comfort in knowing they aren't the only ones being trampled on." After being on both sides of that intergalactic accord, Pois hoped they could all find something else to agree on. One that didn't include having to fight for their lives so often.

"I've heard some things about President G...erm, the former President. He was a terribly oppressive person being chief among them." And that he isn't at all what he made himself out to be. He's far worse. "With him gone, perhaps you can finally build that Grand Hall and remember everything that was lost to obscurity during his reign. Knowledge is power, and there's no greater knowledge than knowing the full scope of your people's history."

With that said, she led them out of the Grand Hall and down the street. They passed through the downtown area. Buildings towered high above them, some nearly as tall as the oaks of the surrounding forests. People darted to and fro down the sidewalks, all giving the Earthling visitors a curious, but still cursory glance before turning their fleeting attention back to their daily activities. Hovercraft flitted up and down the road, carrying heavy loads of cargo to their various destinations. The majority of the people were Saiyans, naturally, but there were more than a few people of other races. Whether they lived there or were just there for business wasn't clear.

The next stop was the history museum. It was there that much of the Saiyan's exploits, both good and bad, were put on display, giving a visual to the textbooks found at the library. There were hundreds of exhibits, many displaying either a different battle throughout history or a different race that had been wiped out. There were several that focused solely on Saiyans history. There was one about Vocado's titanic battle against Glacier two thousand years ago, and the first settlers on the planet Vocado. Fittingly, a new exhibit displaying Sarada's battle with Tundra on the planet Sadala was currently under construction across the hall.

"This is our history museum. Here, you'll see the full and unfiltered history of the Saiyans, as well as the history of the cryomancers who lived on this world before us. We're currently researching the races who inhabited the other worlds in our Empire. Now this is what I really wanted to show you." She led them down another hallway adjacent to the one leading to Vocado v Glacier. Coincidentally, it led them to the center of the museum. It was an exhibit which displayed over two dozen leather-bound journals, all of which were written by hand by King Vocado himself. The journals catalogued his early life, his travels and adventures, and his beliefs on race relations, training, power and the responsibility that came with it, and other personal anecdotes. Each journal also had a complete audio translation that a person could listen to if they took the time.

"King Vocado spent a good deal of time on Earth during his time with the Palantines and developed a good relationship with the martial artist Zxu'ro. Unfortunately, we're still translating those journals, so they aren't available just yet."

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

( Dammit, I have no choice. I have to use it) Praxat thought. Praxat reverts back to her normal form, then suddenly her power gets a massive boost, but her body doesn't change. However, her eyes are now glowing blue with bioelectricity.

Praxat attempts to focus her senses on the fly as she goes for the sword. Using her own methods involving dancing, martial arts, and Galaxy Police tactics. As she does this, her body is in sync with her mind.

She gets closer. Her speed and movements almost catch him as he too dances around, and it is only at the last second that Praxat realizes he has weaves her into a trap.

All around the battlefield a circle of blue dome lightning has been weaved wherever Bulllick had gone, acting as a type of massive spherical cage. Ten radiant points in that cage flash, and Bullock appears above it, sword point down.

“Black Thunderer Ultimate technique! Ten Swords Thunder Pierce!!!!”

His sword plunges down and touches the sphere, and the ten points of energy all lance out and pierce Praxat, inundating her with a massive shock beyond comprehension. Had she not had an affinity with this element, she’s be dead. As is, the attack fries her neurons and synapses for a moment and makes it impossible to move, smoke curling around her as he swoops in and lays the sword blade against her throat.

“Match game. It seems you have much to learn, Niece.”

[bruceleegreyhulk]

She gets closer. Her speed and movements almost catch him as he too dances around, and it is only at the last second that Praxat realizes he has weaves her into a trap.

All around the battlefield a circle of blue dome lightning has been weaved wherever Bulllick had gone, acting as a type of massive spherical cage. Ten radiant points in that cage flash, and Bullock appears above it, sword point down.

“Black Thunderer Ultimate technique! Ten Swords Thunder Pierce!!!!”

His sword plunges down and touches the sphere, and the ten points of energy all lance out and pierce Praxat, inundating her with a massive shock beyond comprehension. Had she not had an affinity with this element, she’s be dead. As is, the attack fries her neurons and synapses for a moment and makes it impossible to move, smoke curling around her as he swoops in and lays the sword blade against her throat.

“Match game. It seems you have much to learn, Niece.”

" You won, I admit defeat," Praxat said as her body quickly recovers due to her cellular division being accelerate by her bioelectromagentism.

[Monstrous Bird of Qin, Ou Ki]

Why do you think birds fly?

What an odd question. A test of character, perhaps? Or maybe it was merely messing with her.

...perhaps its long solitude had driven it insane.

Regardless, Nevanlinna remained silent as she contemplated her answer. The knights behind her spoke amongst themselves about their views.

'Because it had been trained to.'
'Because it had been ordered to.'

Their answers were like that... unsatisfactory. The robot simply ignored them, for the most part. The question was, after all, directed towards her.

At last, after some thought, she formulated her own answer.

"It's quite simple: They fly because they want to fly. Being trained to, ordered to... those answers will not do. They fly because they will it, desire it, and for no other reason!"

The robot regarded her silent for a moment. "Is that your answer? Simply the outward expression of will?"

Nevanlinna nodded. "Yes."

Another pause. "A dangerous sentiment, if that will and desire were completely unconstrained... but I sense you aren't like that. You possess boundless ambition and will, yet you have... focused it, with a sense of duty, willingly chosen. Exemplary."

She noted that the robot was no longer rhyming. Thank whatever gods happened to be watching this exchange, if any.

"I have answered your question. Now, we must attend to the bodies of our comrades," said Nevanlinna, taking a step forward.

"Of course." The robot waved its hand and the mauled bodies of the research team wavered and disappeared, revealing that they were very much alive, just... unconscious. "I predicted a retrieval and wanted to see how they'd react... had you aggressed, I would have killed everyone present."

"No. You would have tried to do so," replied Nevanlinna, as she motioned for the golds to evacuate the research team. They, of course, did so. "I am far harder to put down, permanently, than I appear. Now, answer me, what is this place?"

"I am not at liberty to say, but I can lead you to one that can show you the way."

...

Oh for ****'s sake, the rhyming is back.

"Very well... lead on. Luop, shadow me. You others, ensure the research team's safety and extraction," said the princess, as she and Luop began following this robot deeper into the room.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

" You won, I admit defeat," Praxat said as her body quickly recovers due to her cellular division being accelerate by her bioelectromagentism.

Bulllick nods.

“Very good. For the remaining time you have here, we shall train.”


OT: This is where we’ll stop and offscreen the training (this is your sword master you had wanted). Praxat has about two weeks of cadet time off to train here, and this way we’ll be ready to role into the next chapter.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Meanwhile, at the GP HQ:


Dash grunts as her Spider-Armor lands roughly, extra spiky arms growing from it to cushion the landing as she rolls with it and lands back on her feet. Miras Thane lands just behind her, swinging a massive Crystal war hammer at her head.

Dash dodges, using the extra limbs from her armor, a feature only recently discovered, to add extra mobility as Thane swings again and again. The two had taken to sparring, Thane in her Crystal form, and it was remarkable how much the GP captain had improved from just these sparring sessions.

Dash, more powerful, has to stay on the defensive as Thane and a handful of more GP officers, including the reinstated Kenbo, join the fight and together work to keep the human constantly on her toes.


————

Meagan stands, teaching her kids and pseudo granddaughter the better basics of TK and Ki control, laughing and having fun even as Cyanna, her aide and future replacement, stands and watches various scenes through a Crystal orb in the Temple. Cyanna nods and turns towards Meagan.

“All good, Meagan. Chroma is quiet, and there are no calls on the Network. Here, I’ll take over so you can talk to Jinzi.”

Meagan nods, thanks her, and the two trade places. Meagan uses the orb to contact Jinzi, and he fills her in with what Ochazuke and others have started doing to start getting Earth ready. Meagan in turn talks about how much Chroma has come since the war and their own defenses just in case.

And for about an hour or two, they talk about plans, preparations, and what will happen when the show finally drops and Sakin makes his move.

[bruceleegreyhulk]

Bulllick nods.

“Very good. For the remaining time you have here, we shall train.”


OT: This is where we’ll stop and offscreen the training (this is your sword master you had wanted). Praxat has about two weeks of cadet time off to train here, and this way we’ll be ready to role into the next chapter.

" I'll do my best, Uncle Bullick," Praxat said.

OT: taking a break here.

[grampagen]

Pois sighed heavily, but not out of annoyance. "Hundreds," she answered. "Too many to count, to be honest. We sadly weren't alone in doing it, either." It seemed that even the humans had experience with that sort of thing, if Spopovich's peculiar outburst was any indication. She smiled and tilted her head. "It seems Might Makes Right is the one thing that unites the starways, sadly. The strong find solidarity in the strong and the weak find comfort in knowing they aren't the only ones being trampled on." After being on both sides of that intergalactic accord, Pois hoped they could all find something else to agree on. One that didn't include having to fight for their lives so often.

"I've heard some things about President G...erm, the former President. He was a terribly oppressive person being chief among them." And that he isn't at all what he made himself out to be. He's far worse. "With him gone, perhaps you can finally build that Grand Hall and remember everything that was lost to obscurity during his reign. Knowledge is power, and there's no greater knowledge than knowing the full scope of your people's history."

"Oh, my yes," MCO Spopovich replied, the hurried pace of his words indicating he wanted to get as far away from mentioning that name as possible.

"It's cliche, perhaps, the saying. Hard times temper strong people, strong people create good times," he said sagely, "However, good time create weak people that forget, and it is weak people that create hard times. People are strange that way, the best in them brought out from hardship, from having something to fight for. Supposing we forget all of that..."

Folding his hands together, he pointed his paired index fingers at Pois, pursing his lips playfully as he mimed a mock shot her way.

"Bang. Gone. Stuck in a cycle of decadence and dependence. That is stagnation, even for conquerors who can no longer understand the beauty and sorrow of battle. And that, I think, is what That Man knew all too well."

Unfolding his hands, he fluttered his fingers. "It's all too morbid and pessimistic wouldn't you say? Personally, I think that all a bird needs to remember what her wings are for is for someone to open her cage."

With that said, she led them out of the Grand Hall and down the street. They passed through the downtown area. Buildings towered high above them, some nearly as tall as the oaks of the surrounding forests. People darted to and fro down the sidewalks, all giving the Earthling visitors a curious, but still cursory glance before turning their fleeting attention back to their daily activities. Hovercraft flitted up and down the road, carrying heavy loads of cargo to their various destinations. The majority of the people were Saiyans, naturally, but there were more than a few people of other races. Whether they lived there or were just there for business wasn't clear.

The next stop was the history museum. It was there that much of the Saiyan's exploits, both good and bad, were put on display, giving a visual to the textbooks found at the library. There were hundreds of exhibits, many displaying either a different battle throughout history or a different race that had been wiped out. There were several that focused solely on Saiyans history. There was one about Vocado's titanic battle against Glacier two thousand years ago, and the first settlers on the planet Vocado. Fittingly, a new exhibit displaying Sarada's battle with Tundra on the planet Sadala was currently under construction across the hall.

"This is our history museum. Here, you'll see the full and unfiltered history of the Saiyans, as well as the history of the cryomancers who lived on this world before us. We're currently researching the races who inhabited the other worlds in our Empire. Now this is what I really wanted to show you." She led them down another hallway adjacent to the one leading to Vocado v Glacier. Coincidentally, it led them to the center of the museum. It was an exhibit which displayed over two dozen leather-bound journals, all of which were written by hand by King Vocado himself. The journals catalogued his early life, his travels and adventures, and his beliefs on race relations, training, power and the responsibility that came with it, and other personal anecdotes. Each journal also had a complete audio translation that a person could listen to if they took the time.

"King Vocado spent a good deal of time on Earth during his time with the Palantines and developed a good relationship with the martial artist Zxu'ro. Unfortunately, we're still translating those journals, so they aren't available just yet."

Though the Saiyan locals eyed them with curiosity, beneath the HUD of the mechanical exo-suits the scientists all but openly gawked at the rapid expansion of their recorded First Contact.

"Actual structured domiciles! And intergalactic commerce?! Are you logging this?"

While they had been to a series of planets on the way in to Langal, there was a certain air of exclusivity, a particular prestige, that came with such a pioneer spirit, and to have it logged and archived in such a manner as the museum. Having a history conveyed plainly in this regard was a more intimate examination of these matters with a sophistication that had not quite been matched so far. The museum was truly something else, and many pointed with some recognition of the fighting Saiyan they'd seen on television years ago and her Arcosian nemesis placed parallel to the dynastic monarch's own struggle from long ago.

"Now that is bold, putting your sins on display like this," Spopovich began. Leaning towards a reconstruction of some poor, fallen soul. "Most tend to bury it for fear of reprisal..."

He left it at that, for who could, indeed, among these holographic and plastic bones, demand satisfaction? Who among the living, for that matter?

The words of the Cryomancers were held in the open next to the accounts of their victors in this archive of Saiyankind. But when the conversation turned to Vocado, the MCO recognized a name, and his thin brow raised.

"I understand they fought side by side on our world in the company of five others," he said with a yawn, "Ah, but you wouldn't be interested in that..."

[grampagen]

"You're welcome," Maiz replied with a smile. "I noticed you made tea after you rescued me. I'm sure you won't take it as a token of thanks for rescuing me, so think of it as an offering of goodwill."

She still had to visit with Eva, meaning she would have to travel to Earth at some point. Perhaps she would wait a while, at least until this harvest was over, then kill two birds with one stone. "Yes, I'd like that.

"A small indulgence to sharpen the mind," he said, "After all that had happened to you, some small measure of comfort was the least I could do. Moreover, it would not do to return you to Parsley unwell."

Ochazuke's humble refusal to accept even a little of the credit for the Saiyans' judicial reform drew a smile from Maiz and Pinach. "Justice has a place for everyone everywhere!" Pinach said cheerfully, truly the first time he sounded like his old self in some time. "They just have to know where to find it." Yet, at the mention of his cousin, any mirth evaporated like a drop of dew under the morning sun. He let out a shuddering breath. "She tried to buy me time so I could get Sarada to safety," he said quietly. "The last moment I saw her was her getting vap-..." He let out a choked sob and quickly turned away. "I'm sorry."

Maiz frowned as she watched the man fly away, not toward the city, but toward the mountains to the east. "He hasn't been the same since she died. Sarada and Parsley mourned her, as well, but I raised her and Pinach together like siblings." She sighed and looked in the direction he flew in, even though he was no longer visible. "Thankfully, Sarada already dealt with Tundra a few months ago. We dismantled his expansive empire with help from the Galaxy Police. Now, it's only a matter of finding homes for the billions of slaves he kidnapped from their homes. Slaves, I admit, we played a part in enslaving."

How many of the worlds she herself conquered ended up under Tundra's thumb? How many people had she slain in unwitting service to him? It was nightmarish to consider, but at least that specter was finally gone. "As for Rutaba, I still intend on traveling to Namek to learn how to craft my own balls. Even if that puts my own life at risk, so be it. Rutaba was only fourteen; she deserves a second chance at life."

From the way Pinach recounted the death of his cousin, Ochazuke instantly saw the turn in his emotions, and when Maiz explained it, his featured stilled and darkened. His view followed him, and the trail of his ki set itself far away to the mountains.

"He's grown stronger in all facets, but though he may look hardened, war has carved a young man out of the wounded heart of a boy," he said, for it was a look he'd seen far too often. By fear and discipline, he'd recognized the look of one who had truly seen death meaningfully for the first time. "He may never completely recover what was taken from him, but in time, he will find the strength to bear it. That is the price and the burden of becoming the latest Super Saiyan, isn't it?"

Whatever mirth there was in their reunion had been spoiled by grief that was far too near to mind.

"Sarada talked to me at length about Tundra. I do not doubt the length and charge of the battle, yet despite this, I've not known your daughters to ever speak a penitent word. Perhaps that much has been set aside, deep within their need for the strength to fight. If there is the intention to make things right, it may indeed require the power of a wish. To that end, it's a relief to hear the Namekian Elder has returned."

She turned back to face him. "I'd be mistaken to try and take any credit. I only try my best to guide the people best able to effect change." She gestured for him to follow her, then flew a short distance away. She landed in a verdant meadow next to a bubbling brook. "What was it you needed to speak about?"

Setting foot on the green, Ochazuke paced a few steps, and as he cast his medidation field out, a subtle force ceased the wind over the grass and stilled the waters to such silence that one could hear the bustle of Victory City even from this distance.

"I trust that Sarada and Parsley have discussed the matter with you pertaining to Sakin and Alakazah. Together with Genesis and the Goddess of Ruination, it behooves a vigilant Guardian to see to it."

A moment passed as he examined the environs, and when he was satisfied it all resumed as it had been.

"Suffice it to say, with a Guardian's place being with her people, Evangeline saw to it the matters of the Guardian Network would not be left to Kami alone. For five years the problem of the parasites compromising Guardians was left untended to," Ochazuke said, "To this end, we charted a course through the known universe, finding peoples and civilizations, and establishing new contacts and with it new allies. Breaking bread is Zaofan's specialty, I've never seen anybody turn cynics into friends as well as him, or any more good-willed a tributary guest. Bridging the gap between those stationed as gods among their people, on the other hand, that requires a very particular set of skills."

So it was that he had met with the Guardians of many worlds, as he relayed to Maiz. Most were accommodating, and while some did not entirely understand the station passed to them from their Spark of Creation, with some guidance they knew the impending calamity was a near possibility, and with open contact between their worlds would work to prevent this from coming true.

"Others who'd doubted ceased once I plucked the Parasites from them. Now they too know what they're looking for. Flesh of Sakin's flesh that thirsts for Creation Energy, they now know his fell essence very well."

Shifting his hand, Ochazuke produced a small stone, many-faceted and rough like an uncut quartz spike.

"Can you sense it? Suspended forever in a prison of his own magic, it's faint, but the Soul Meister is kindred to these creatures and a servant to his master. For three long years, I've been hunting down the creature that cursed the line of my world's Guardians. Now that I have more than one vector tracing the path to his Forsworn World, with the help of the Guardians I mean to find Sakin, and then kill him."