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

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

"I see so I need supervision to see my grandmother. That's fine by me. Now, if you have info on the planet Amperior's whereabouts, just tell me. I rather get the info on planet Amperrior's location upfront," Praxat said.

" Oh, and how is my grandmother doing? Has she turned over a new leaf or, is she still f*@#ing psychotic?" Praxat said.

The guard frowns.

“Cadet, I’m a guard, not a repository of meaningless rambles the Orion set may or may jot have said. I don’t know anything about ‘Amperior’ or what that is. If you want, you can go to the Archives and review the various statements the prisoner has made over her time here.”

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Angels, as it turned out, had a vast multitude of abilities. Resurrection, control of time and space, the ability to see the future, magic, God Ki, and a multitude of others. Above all others, however, that Ultra Instinct thing he mentioned peaked her interest. Not because she was particularly concerned about it; she didn't even know what it was. It was because it sounded familiar. A state of mind that makes the user nigh unhittable. That sounds like that state Sarada uses at times. The two of them worked on improving it during their training before her fight with Tundra. In the end, she somehow developed the ability to unconsciously improve her speed as needs dictated.

Interesting.

"This Ultra Instinct... it wouldn't happen to be a state of mind that allows the user to fight unconsciously based purely on their body's own instincts after emptying their minds of all conscious thought... would it?"

Beyond that, hearing that Sakin was greatly diminished was encouraging. Angels sounded horribly overpowered. Hearing that Stine was even more diminished wasn't. That meant that Sakin was likely stronger than he was.

"If there is a loophole, there is someone who will exploit it," she commented. "Sakin's actions won't go unanswered for much longer. He will pay."

“Ehh, sounds similar.”

Caliban shrugs, then looks at her sternly.

“You and the little mage be safe, yeah? I ain’t trained the two of ya to die. I might even be a bit…fond….of ya both. So when ya confront Sakin, don’t be dumb, yeah?”

[bruceleegreyhulk]

The guard frowns.

“Cadet, I’m a guard, not a repository of meaningless rambles the Orion set may or may jot have said. I don’t know anything about ‘Amperior’ or what that is. If you want, you can go to the Archives and review the various statements the prisoner has made over her time here.”

" Amperior is my grandmother's home planet. It is where she was born. I'm going to make a visit there, just need to know its location. I will be heading to the Archives now. " Praxat said.

Praxat then heads to the Archives.

[Sub-Zero MKA]

“Ehh, sounds similar.”

Caliban shrugs, then looks at her sternly.

“You and the little mage be safe, yeah? I ain’t trained the two of ya to die. I might even be a bit…fond….of ya both. So when ya confront Sakin, don’t be dumb, yeah?”

The sentimentality was a surprise. Surprising, but... touching, she supposed. "I..." she started, intending on dispelling his worries because her allies didn't fight like idiots. That was until she remembered that they did. "We'll be careful," she said after a moment of awkward silence.

"What can go tell me about Genesis?"

[bruceleegreyhulk]

Praxat arrives at the Archives. ( Okay, now to review the various statements, my grandmother at the prison I was at,) Praxat thought. Praxat then searches through the Archives until she finds a folder on her grandmother Araxat.

Praxat opens up the folder and starts looking through it. (Okay, there has to be a statement in here. Where my grandmother states the location of her home planet Amperior," Praxat thought.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Praxat, you do find one mention of the planets location, far in unknown space.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

The sentimentality was a surprise. Surprising, but... touching, she supposed. "I..." she started, intending on dispelling his worries because her allies didn't fight like idiots. That was until she remembered that they did. "We'll be careful," she said after a moment of awkward silence.

"What can go tell me about Genesis?"

“Not a freaking thing. Don’t know anything about ‘er.”

[Sub-Zero MKA]

“Not a freaking thing. Don’t know anything about ‘er.”

"Tch." She supposed it wasn't completely out of the realm of possibility that someone with vast amounts of information wouldn't know anything about one particular individual. Especially when said individual was a secretive and mysterious as Genesis. Having said that, it was still frustrating to have to go into that particular battle nearly completely blind. "It was worth a try."

Far be it for her to doubt her sister-in-law's abilities, but she would have rather not placed her complete dependence on one person. Someone else out there had to have answers. Parsley knew where Genesis' ark was, but wasn't sure what would be waiting for her there.

"Do you know anyone who would have that kind of information?"

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

"Tch." She supposed it wasn't completely out of the realm of possibility that someone with vast amounts of information wouldn't know anything about one particular individual. Especially when said individual was a secretive and mysterious as Genesis. Having said that, it was still frustrating to have to go into that particular battle nearly completely blind. "It was worth a try."

Far be it for her to doubt her sister-in-law's abilities, but she would have rather not placed her complete dependence on one person. Someone else out there had to have answers. Parsley knew where Genesis' ark was, but wasn't sure what would be waiting for her there.

"Do you know anyone who would have that kind of information?"

He pauses, thinking.

“My majin boys. Could have ‘em do some digging. Usually ain’t nothing they can’t find.”

[bruceleegreyhulk]

Praxat, you do find one mention of the planets location, far in unknown space.

( Now that I know where Amperior is, should I visit first or last? Elephantine or Amperior? Elephantine is close to my home planet Qaceria, so it would be faster to get to,) Praxat thought.

( Amperior is much further away in uncharted territory, so it would take longer to get to,) Praxat thought. Praxat thinks long and hard about which planet she's going to head to. ( Okay, it's settled. I'll head to Amperior,) Praxat thought.

( Someone needs to chart that unknown space, and it might as well be me,) Praxat thought.

Praxat heads off to Amperior's location.

[Sub-Zero MKA]

He pauses, thinking.

“My majin boys. Could have ‘em do some digging. Usually ain’t nothing they can’t find.”

She sighed, but nodded. "I was hoping not to spend anymore money there, but for the sake of the universe, sacrifices must be made." She shrugged, then it dawned on her. She could use those Majin to find the remaining Ulthan. Finding their base would allow the M-Fighters a chance to spy on them and get the drop on them when their guard was at its lowest. There were, to her knowledge only three left: Ishtar, Lady Binder, and Last Daughter. As far as she was concerned, Binder needed to be their top priority. A magic user was the most dangerous, even more so than a God of Destruction. She saw first hand the kind of power Binder had when she completely erased Wolf God from existence, obliterating his soul after he broke their agreement.

She was dangerous and needed to die first.

"I'll need to speak with your Majin anyway, it seems. There are more enemies still that need to be found and kept tabs on." She couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it sooner. Such a valuable resource should have been used to its fullest extent. It wasn't like she was going broke any time soon. "These Ulthan have been a major thorn in our sides for the last several months. They've killed many innocent people in their quest to kill Inanna. We intend on making them pay, permanently."

[grampagen]

The echoes from the television were the only noise there in the Grandmaster's hall besides the ascendant footsteps. Solitude was only ever broken in the event of quarterly reports or a dire emergency. it was a matter of urgency for Jitori to consult the Crane grandmaster. While Aiko had her fun building her pet projects in the deserts, it was here upon the sea that the Crane Consigliere had put his eye upon.

"Grandmaster, it's happened again. All over the mainland coast, slash marks and crushed vessels. Turns out they weren't accidents, they happened outside of the cover of a storm, and synchronized. With the fishing fleet across the strait having been destroyed, people will starve and margins will plunge."

No reply, save for the brass band over the credits. Jitori fixed his sunglasses over his single eye and pulled the sliding screen back.

Amid the cedar dome frozen in time in the hall, nothing but dust and worn incense. The Crane Grandmaster Chahan had not been here for some time.

Two seiners cut a long, white line through the sea foam. A family operation, two brothers and their sons, men of rods and nets. The younger men took the wheel, for their fathers, seasoned by the wear of life and the double glare of the sun and sea, had eyes that were not so keen, yet it was their aged hands that knew how best to gather the ropes and lines.

"Hurry up it up, then, even if there's nothing but sardines out there, we've got to get ahead of the schools!"

Sure as the waves crested, the mainland coast brought with it the radiant heat that was to stir the migrations of fish...only they did not come so near lately. Fact of the matter was that the season had not changed and yet any boats that ventured out further from the reef edge into the wider sea hadn't come back. The few that did, ragged and shattered, could not gather the crewmen or the nerve to go back out there. It was a squall, so they said, a whirlpool dragging ships to the bottom, or a typhoon miles from land. Regardless, an entire way of life had slowly begun to die off. Yet for the most desperate of trades people, their lives' work left them face to face with a single fact: no catch, no pay. Even worse the supply line had been going down as demand shot up; an amberjack might as well have been made of gold with the prices they commanded, but for the lack of buyers.

Black waves crested where they caught blood-red sunrays, a grisly reflection upon a surface that concealed that which dwelt fathoms below. Flooded with forboding behind a cloudy veil, it cast a deadly air about the diminished fleet of vessels behind them which had stayed at harbour. It was the prime of the season, and yet they collected more barnacles than fish these days. With the risky returns, the mundane had suddenly become the intrepid. How fearful had it been to perform the simple act of a provider? To voyage out into the Eastern Sea was to court death. Yet every man has his price, and for a sumptuous fee, paid upfront for captains and crews, some were willing to sell their lives to care for their own. When it was your livelihood at stake, perhaps there was little choice but to court death.

How strange, then, that their client decided to ride with them. Their patron was an old man who stood balanced before the bow railing between the old, rusted harpoon guns as the boat cut forward. The sun rose now, and as they sailed toward it the rays were beating down on him incessantly. Yet the boating captain who stood behind him felt only the chill of wind as it passed behind their patron as they moved upon their course. The captain of this boat looked at him, and he never seemed to lose his footing despite the shock of the waves rocking the prow. Silently he wondered if the man was dressed to insulate himself from the chill of a world in motion, with a wool cap slid tight over his large, grey brows and a thick, green coat cloistered his stout person as the fishermen pressed on with him into everlong cold.

"Two more miles and we're past the point of no return," the middle-aged father said, "Not sure if there'll be a haul, Ojisan, but if we'll get anything it's sure be in the deeper water"

The old man looked at the fishing captain for a moment. His eyes were dark, penetrating. Like a bird's eyes. The captain took an awkward step back as they stared fixedly as if he'd felt as soon as he looked at him, he'd become a target. With a gruff chuckle, he turned his head over the bow and cast those eyes out on the empty waters. This far outm tiny, silvery bodies began to skip from the shining seam of the ocean.

"We'll find something. Stay the course, son."

If we were not ourselves fodder.

There would have been a time long ago where they would have feared him, fallen to a mere glance. But as the old man peered out over the sea teeming with the filth of life and grime of industry, in the path torn behind the boat he could not make out his own reflection. The froth rose like a mocking spittle as they weighed the anchor and tossed the lines off the side. In these wilder waters, so long and untamed, there would be no telling what they would find here, solitary upon the endless deep.

The deepest water isn't only the darkest, there is a different colour when you see the light hit it, the way light cuts through from the glare of the current. Though the waves swallow the sunbeams, it illuminates movement through the darkness teeming with life. The net lines spread between the two boats as they cast them out to gather what they could, and the reels of filament cable fell down. The fisherman's son moved out of the cabin with a pail. With no catch for weeks, they had no chum, all they had for lures were worms, and onto the hooks they went. Over the radio line they cued the two on the other ship across the way.

The engines stopped the moment the anchors hit the bottom, and for a long moment there was only silence and the sound of lapping water. It was conventional wisdom that the coldest waters have the largest fish, but how swiftly the currents change. Even just as recently as last year, they had to get out here before the other fishermen crowded them out. The nets went down, and came up like a seive holding

"Start of the day, end of the day," the father said despondantly, watching the reel of his mechanical pole cease its winding. No bites. "Could be all for nothing, sadly."

"Quiet..."

The old man cast a look at him over his shoulder and leaned over the deep, his eyes peering there for a moment. Slowly he loosed a breath as his view drift down. The sunrays had

The water is darkest where it is the deepest, or where the dorsal side is nearest. Without warning a shadow began to swell below them, unnoticed until the waves swelled long as it rose and curved the surface of the netting. The sides of the twin seiners lurched inward as the steel cables on the nets shrieked.

"Cut it! Cut it!"

The netting cable snapped loose, skipping across the fibreglass deck and smashed through the railing. The Captain barely registered their client, standing motionless like a deathly shadow as it slid past him, slashing across the surface of the water from their end; Far too late to avert the panicked sound over the radio as the other boat rocked and capsized under the heft at the end of the catch. By their lures had they become prey, and in the dead of the morning air the Captain's brother and his nephew's screams were clear over the noise. and they caught a glimpse of the thing as it passed. Its skin had shallow furrows with rows of leathery sail-fins ending in the spines like a scorpionfish, like pleated, bleeding envenomed stripes as it dragged what catch they had to the bottom with the other boat.

"What the hell is that?!"

Decompression sounded out as the finned tail past and the sunken impact was punctuated by the unspooling tether of one of the old antique harpoon guns. The old man reached to the shattered deck for the second spear, and dragged with him the fallen reel under his arm.

"Quickly. Give me your lifeboat and we will consider the matter settled."

"We can't just leave you out here!"

"Heh. Who do you think I am?"

The argument ended as the old man pulled the downed speargun behind him to the side of the boat where a small white paddleboat was moored. The fisherman paled and followed the man obediently, stopping short of joining him as he began offloading the winch.

"You've done more than enough to earn your pay. Sorry about your brother and his son." he said as the boat descended. "Perhaps pork will be a poor substitute in the coming days, but it may be best to live off the land for the moment. Swine, like the sea, have never been picky eaters,"

"Grandmaster Chahan-"

"Besides, we are of a kind, you and I. We take care of our own. It's time you head home to bear that out."

The small boat hit the foam as the remaining seiner dropped the attachments, and the oars skipped in their fixed guides in the lifeboat. The instant the line-brake seized upon the remains of the harpoon thethers, the little vessel was propelled forward and pulled off into the horizon.

[grampagen]

The oceans around the old man began to stir and froth. Dragged forcefully if some hellish element had brought the sea to a white, foaming boil, his eyes stared ahead through the sea spray, unblinking at the sight of his prey, and Even through the layers of his coat he felt bitter cold bite into his skin. Whatever this thing was, it had intended to escape into the safety of the deep, but met it with an equally stubborn effort from the Elder Crane, refuge would not come. Chahan grimaced, fire in his aged lungs pulling out of him a strength he'd not had to leverage in years, and for a moment the thing curled upward and lurched out of the water's surface.

What are you, bottom-feeder, that I should fear thee?

Brine lapped and shimmed off its broad side, vapours blooming like white smoke as the thing was revealed. Fifty times the size of the fishermen's comely outrigger, a creature like this was not unheard of, but it was neither cetacean nor mollusc. The deep spawn with its trail of finned spines leading up on its leathery, furrowed hide, was as if a denizen that stood outside of the natural order. The sun rays danced off the crevices and pyrite scales, and though the sight of it articulated a certain a fleshiness that wound up an elongated hulking frame, when the Elder Crane lift his dark, unblinking eyes up toward a semblance of a face. Crooked eel's jaws covered in the deposed netting hinged side to side, parting through the waves as it heaved and swallowed. The spiines atop its pleated fins skittered in a manner more insectlike than fish as it reared back, glassy bauble eyes glinting in the hot sun stared backward where they were cradled atop its head, and long pronged fangs standing in needle rows.

Such as it was, the ragged thrashing and simple-eyed flounder-thing was a sight as unusual as it was grossly offensive to his sensibilities, and as he cradled the line over his back, with his left hand he reached for the second harpoon. It flew, carrying the unspooled draw line and struck through one of the creature's eyes. Wher ethe blood spilled, the salt water bloomed dark and steamed noxiously, smelling of salt and sulphur and heated rot as the creature thrashed and attempted to wrench free. Both lines pulled by the force of the hooked barbs that sunk in and refused to release, even through the swirling torrent kicked up about the creature. Chahan wrapped the cord around his arm, cradled it about his back, and stepped into the broad side of the boat, anchoring himself as the line pressed across his shoulders. He felt a swerve in its direction, and the fishing line grew taut in its death rattle as the spear lines.

Suddenly, it seemed the waves stopped as a quake rippled through the ocean, and it was as if his little boat slid upon a glass picture, the motion of the sea spray halted where it lift from the surface. It was resonant of something he did not quite expect.

Kiai?

The force cultivated from life itself, honed in this calculated manner required a certain subtle guile a beast did not possess. As the great eel-creature fell back into its element, a primal scream emenated strange pulse, echoing through the sea in a manner which strangely slowed was produced from it that seemed to call a host of its toxic brood. Dark shapes leapt from below about the size of a man, as Chahan peered to the side he strained to see any features but only saw his reflection briefly in the water. Then the surface burst with the rubbery, eyeless sheen, and rows of great toothed jaws that collapsed upon his vessel and ground futilely against his line. He'd come into their element, now the denizens of the sea leapt into his; perhaps both had writ their deathly confession this day.

Lifting one of the side oars beneath his arm, he swung it wide against the underside of its faceless maw, cutting through the blubber and carrying the bones with it like metal pressed through wet tissue. The eyeless maws gnashed downward, taking pieces of the paddle at a time, and seven times his cast the flat paddle out, again and again they'd broken and dashed apart disdainfully until the lines finally snapped.

By then the damage had already been done. Fibreglass split under the effort at the sides of the boat, as if destroyed by its own buoyancy underfoot in the combat. The last dark grin had freed its malformed master and leaving the lifeboat adrift. Surrounded by miles of sea, the Old Crane felt not a single breath of the tides, the splintered vessel upon his feet the only thing separating from the depths below. Chahan lift a finger and felt the breeze.

It was then that the vessel shattered under his feet. In an instant his limbs were seized as he was pulled under, and swiftly he drew what may have been his last breath. He felt a weightlessness at first, then the hollow sensation of falling. Stealing a stern glance downward, as he was dragged downwart, he could spot some enormous shape below the waves.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

She sighed, but nodded. "I was hoping not to spend anymore money there, but for the sake of the universe, sacrifices must be made." She shrugged, then it dawned on her. She could use those Majin to find the remaining Ulthan. Finding their base would allow the M-Fighters a chance to spy on them and get the drop on them when their guard was at its lowest. There were, to her knowledge only three left: Ishtar, Lady Binder, and Last Daughter. As far as she was concerned, Binder needed to be their top priority. A magic user was the most dangerous, even more so than a God of Destruction. She saw first hand the kind of power Binder had when she completely erased Wolf God from existence, obliterating his soul after he broke their agreement.

She was dangerous and needed to die first.

"I'll need to speak with your Majin anyway, it seems. There are more enemies still that need to be found and kept tabs on." She couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it sooner. Such a valuable resource should have been used to its fullest extent. It wasn't like she was going broke any time soon. "These Ulthan have been a major thorn in our sides for the last several months. They've killed many innocent people in their quest to kill Inanna. We intend on making them pay, permanently."

He nods.

“Standard payment, but that should be doable fer them.”

[bruceleegreyhulk]

Month 11

Praxat arrives in uncharted territory in a GP shuttle. ( finally, I made it to Amperior's location. Damn, this was a long trip. By my estimate, it took me four months to get here,) Praxat thought.

( Would have taken longer if I wasn't speeding. By my estimate, if I wasn't speeding. It would have taken me a year just to get here. I know I can't contact GP headquarters,) Praxat thought.

( This is uncharted territory. Well, I better look around,) Praxat thought.) Praxat searches for Planet Amperior while charting down any object she spots.