The next few days were a blur. My words proved true as the world showed signs of slowly dying, and yet, it also showed strange signs of renewal. The countless intertwined fauna began to brown and decay. Even from orbit the green world began to shift and change. But I could still feel vitality thrumming, no, it wasn't simply thrumming, but like a seed peeking out from its shell.
Rettas never had a choice. The thought was sobering. A certain priest sought an answer to a question that bothered him. The idea of nature versus nurture. If a monster was born, a true monster, a thing of evil. What would it think when it accomplishes its task? Would it lament the chaos it wrought upon creation? Would it rejoice and think it did well as it too died in the end?
In truth, it didn't matter. Rettas was born in a society of warriors. No, of butchers and mass murderers. A society built upon strength. Where the weak were stepped on and left to die.
Even then, even as she wiped out planets she wept for the fallen. Stood upon the piles of bodies she had made and lamented. Still, she continued. Hoping and praying for confirmation, acceptance. It just seemed… so stupid.
Nobody considered that. In a way, it was easy to marginalize what the Saiyan's did. Genocide. Racism. Core tenets of their species. So much so that I even found myself affected.
Yet, unlike Rettas I was born in a relatively warm home. A society built upon peace. A world where conflict was rare, looked down on even. Where you were expected to follow the word of law, even to your own detriment. Where sweet little lies could be told, and where people could believe them. Ignoring the callous cruelty of the universe.
Yet, I never wept for those I killed. Even as I stared at the world, knowing my hands were stained with its blood. Their souls clinging to me as if to drag me into an early grave. Cursing me, spitting upon me. I didn't fear them. No, if anything, I felt pride. A budding sense of achievement.
I was chewed out for picking a fight I had no means of winning. A fight I had no business taking up. They didn't have to die, yet, I did so as a gesture. A whim. Like one would gift flowers, or perhaps nice words. I chose murder to prove a point.
I fought not for pleasure, but the result. Like an older sister seeking to avenge a slight her sibling had suffered from. It occurred to me that perhaps I may have jumped the gun. The shadow had sunk deep within me. Swirling in a place I dared not go. Afraid, because there was a difference between my odd actions and words, compared with the blatant acknowledgement I had given it.
I had stood up for her honor. Yet, in doing so I may have hurt her more. Made her feel like she was even more unworthy of existing. My actions inadvertently hurt her. A strangely fitting thing.
I didn't know, and that bothered me. Which is why the days passed in a blur. Until we gathered in a meeting room, I didn't know we had. Father, no, perhaps I had grown used to that term. Too familiar with using it. Master would suffice once more. Because I was afraid. My own trauma brought up, forcing me to step back.
We sat around the meeting table. Helmsman sat with Navigator by his side. Master on one end with his friends and colleagues. Doc sat opposite with armorer and a few other people I didn't know. A screen in the center showing a still image. A top hat made of gears, a twirled mustache. Industrio himself, or well… a still image representing him.
"I must admit! When I sent you here, I merely anticipated you to play bodyguard, but you went far above and beyond!"
His voice was high pitched and tinny with a whistling tone too it.
"Just wanted some exercise." I replied. A reply nobody believed.
"Well, now I have an idea of what you can do! Which is why it makes me happy to send you to your next mission from our mysterious benefactors!"
He then went into detail.
"Your target is a RON senator. This man has gotten himself in some real trouble and needs an escort while on this famed resort world. Your mission is simple, protect him! So, do your best!"
The image cuts off. Leaving us in silence. Helmsman looked over the details almost relieved.
"Well, this looks simple enough."
I shot him and everyone that agreed with him a disappointed look before speaking up.
"You can't seriously believe that right?"
They looked back at me. My feet propped up on the meeting table. My chair balanced precariously on its hind legs. Nobody spoke up, but I could sense their confusion.
"I mean, we're going to play escort. The mission itself sounds easy enough, but don't we have quite a few people with grudges?"
The first to speak was Doc.
"Shit…"
Her slip of the tongue woke them up. Faces paled. Relieved smiles changed into frowns. Helmsman sagged.
"Right… Now that you mention it. We do have some grudges."
"On top of that, I assume our benefactors will send something to test our Captain once more."
Nobody understood what Doc meant at first, until she gave a hint. "Like on the cruise."
Swears broke out.
"So, what should we expect exactly?" Master supplies as he leans onto the table. I look to helmsman and supply my first guess.
"I assume they will send Proto-Saiyan after me specifically. I imagine they'll be gunning for a blood or tissue sample. Not sure what else."
Helmsman took that chance to speak up.
"We'll likely face CHET assassins."
Bewildered glances and groans echoed out.
"I mean, we did take their super carrier."
Nobody argued.
"Instructor, can you and your colleagues take down those Proto-Saiyan's?"
Master gave me a look.
"No. Rather, I believe it would be best if Rettas went on her own." His colleagues and friends agreed.
"I agree with him. Neither him nor his friends would be able to handle them. Although, they may be able to handle the CHET assassins if they decided to mess with us. Probably?"
I added and Helmsman nodded before replying. "They'll likely send snipers and other such things. Nothing overt since they need to avoid open conflict with RON."
"So, there you have it. I get my break and you guys do your job. How's that?"
I got a few glances from master's group, but nothing more. Our relationship was more or less transactional. There was no need for me to learn their names.
"And what about the ship? Should we lock it down?"
Doc asked.
"That would be the smartest plan. We can send out our elites to handle the escort, have Rettas act as bait and have as many as we can sit on the ship."
Navigator piped up while Helmsman seemed lost.
"Well, there goes shore leave." He says with a forlorn sigh. A sigh that others at the table shared. More details are shared, but it became obvious fairly quickly I wasn't needed. I got a few glances as I stood up, but not one of them stopped me as I made my way to the door. I went to the bridge and threw on my helmet set on the table beside it before heading up to the upper mecha bay.
The interior was full and cramped with various mecha. Even the old hammerer was in the corner. Patched and clearly retrofitted. I ignored the gazes and whispers as I made my way up to the deployment ramp.
"Rettas?"
"Yes Doc?"
"Why are you heading up the exit ramp?"
"I had an urge to practice my ki attacks. Mind letting me out."
It took her a few minutes, but the doors unlocked. A thin magnetized film kept the atmosphere in as I stepped out into the cold abyss of space. My boots stuck fast to the top of the ship. Our ship was still, or at least relatively still. At full speed I didn't think it would be wise to step up here.
It would be incredibly awkward if a random piece of space dust turned me into a bloody mist. Still, being up here made me consider something, perhaps I should try and come up here more. Inside the ship I never got the chance to test out my ki. It was too dangerous for such an enclosed space.
It didn't help that I was itching to test things out. I didn't have the chance to experiment against the avatar. I merely created something that would serve well for the time. The ideas presented by their techniques though… They rumbled in my mind.
For a start I began with what I knew. Galick Gun, A low powered Kamehameha, Destructo disc. Not enough to tire me out, but more than enough to warm me up. It became obvious that my channeling methods were subpar. The charges should be faster, more efficient. Even the rapid-fire blasts were almost too slow to be of use.
I began by flinging up simple orbs of ki. Watching them fizzle against the dark sky. Working on projecting them faster and faster. Working on making the most with the least effort. Pacing myself so that I don't myself too fast.
The energy balls began to pop like fireworks. Something in them changes as I change how I create them. The black yawning void of space slowly began to fill with a golden rain as my ki persisted. I put more oomph into my next orb. Hurling it farther from the ship. I watched as it split unleashing smaller blasts like shrapnel. It wouldn't do much damage, but… I imagine if I put some actual power behind it would do serious damage.
Galick Gun Burst was something I had been thinking for a while. My first time using it had been against the Proto-Saiyan. It had felt rushed, incomplete, but it was an answer to a shorter ranged blast. I needed it to charge faster. Instead of a single powered blast I split the portions into powerful short-range shots. It did good, but I could do better.
I charged up a Galick Gun, feeling it out. Instead of unleashing it as a single powered blast I let it rip, shaving off the energy little by little. The blowback hit me hard as I controlled the energy and released it into small bursts. The range took a steep dive, but the penetration power actually improved. It also took longer to prepare.
Practicing it, I manage to get down the method. At first it was like a slow rhythmic slam of energy. But as I got used to the feeling I began to work faster and faster. I had to reload, recharging a new Galick Gun as I practiced. Until finally it came out like an automatic rifle. The energy belching out into countless smaller needle like energy spikes.
Galick Gun Rapid felt good enough. The mnemonic helped me to remember how to move the energy as I practiced. On a whim I practiced various forms. Especially since I felt the Galick Gun was a far better skill than the Kame in most situations. Kame worked, when I could afford to stand and charge the skill. It let me also release a single prolonged blast that I could feed. Making it far stronger than any other blast in a direct confrontation.
Whereas with the Galick Gun I could measure out my power. And as I practiced it, I became surer that I could charge it on the move easier. Its methodology was deceptively simple. The avatar's exquisite use of energy made me realize how much I had neglected my energy training.
My forms were crude, but effective. Yet, even if a shovel was a great tool. It always did help to have a bit more to your arsenal. As long as I didn't make the same mistake as the avatar did, focusing entirely on method over practicality.
I imagine that Final flash was simply a more powerful version of the Galick Gun. More akin to a cannon than a gun. I already knew that trying to mimic that wouldn't end well. Just the rapid form jolted my bones and made my teeth ache. As if I was truly holding a high-powered rail gun in my hand. Each blast kicking me as I restrain and parse out the energy.
I did alter the basic gun though, reducing its radius by a fair margin. Galick Rifle felt acceptable. It fired a small spike of ki. It's range prodigious even compared to just the normal gun. Its piercing power was likely greater, though… I imagine if it clashed with a kame, it would simply punch through the center or get completely subsumed rather than pushing it back.
Which sounded cool, but in theory it meant getting hit by the rest of the energy. More or less an eye for an eye. I also needed more options in my normal arsenal. Working around the idea of my perpetuating ki. My mind calling to the thin strands of ki that lanced out. Threaded like string as it waved in the air.
Or perhaps, what would work better was the massive blast of ki? The singular ball that split into countless smaller shards. Like a shrapnel filled artillery shell? Mm… artillery would be hard, but what if I focus on something simpler? Galick Burst was more akin to a three-shot rifle burst. It sounded nice, but in reality, it suffered too much… What if I changed the name and function?
Instead of releasing three sequential shots. I instead make a singular Galick Gun, but then blast it out like a shotgun blast. Would it be better or worse? Forming it was fast, easy enough. In fact, splintering the ki and lancing it out uncaring for the exact form was almost incredibly simple. The blowback was a bitch though. I rolled my shoulders, wincing as I felt the soreness.
Galick Shot then. I settled on such a name for its purpose. A shotgun whilst sticking to the Galick theme. Now I just need something different, a kind of area clear. I could probably repurpose The Galick gun into a saturation attack. What would I call it though?
I think about that, but also… I realize my idea for it may not be testable at this time. Much like the Power Ball, I wanted to shoot something into the sky and stop at a point before unleashing its payload beneath it. I could call it Galick Shrapnel… It feels a little boring though…
Rather, I could imagine Vegeta showing up to beat me up for messing with a classic. Though, he never did beat Goku, at least, not that I remember. I mean, Goku never even went all out against him after their first fight.
I sigh… My body was sore. My ki reserves were low, and it didn't help that I was getting pinged. Apparently, we were getting ready to move. I was just about done with my tests, but… Mm… I wanted to test something else. Even if I said I wouldn't do it, well, I had to see it again.
I gathered myself together. "Kaio-ken!" A single charge shouldn't be too bad. I also don't plan to hold it long. Just long enough to see it. What I see makes me wince. My control over it was atrocious. Painfully so, especially with a new measure for ki control. I went ahead and canceled the move before it could do serious damage to my body.
I at least had a new signpost on my road to power. I had to improve my capacity, efficiency, and projection speed. I needed more time to practice. Which is difficult when you're on a flying coffin. I walked back onto the ship. It works into motion shortly after I get inside. I noticed monitors were showing the upper deck. Had they been watching?
The awed looks and burning fervor tell me that they likely had. None of them approached me at least, which allowed me to head to the mess hall. The halls were oddly empty and once I stepped into the mess hall proper, for the first time in a long while I remember.
I saw a brawl. A massive fight. I was confused, until I heard a cry of success. A man stepped out of the crowd. Hungry gazes falling on him as he walks out food in hand. The food looked familiar even. I looked a bit and watched as they returned to their brawl with renewed fierceness. Like rabid animals not fed nearly enough.
I watch the fight progress. As more people are laid low and gathered in a corner. I only snap out of it as the crowd grows too small, my growling stomach seemingly to echo out. The moment I step into the hall, hungry gazes fall on me. I could see the flicker of reason in their eyes, but that faded as their hunger took hold.
I wasn't sure how to take this, but a sudden fist coming at me from the side decided it for me. I kicked the fellow, just enough to knock him out. Then, next thing I know I have an army of people rushing at me trying to hit and beat me down. It was a strange test of my skill and ability to hold back.
I had to be careful not to kill them, yet why did I feel that these people had turned into undead? Even as they coughed up blood they would stand back up, their eyes unflinching. I didn't fully understand what it was that drove them to such insane heights as I worked through them.
I punched and kicked. Dodging a myriad of blows, and those that hit, even if they barely hurt stung my pride. It wasn't until I made it to my Chef's table that I saw what the fuss was about.
"Oh, you came!"
I look around at the groaning bodies. The limited food on the counter.
"I heard you had a stall, and I think I missed my mealtime."
"That you did. Here." He pulls out a huge pile of food and I take my seat at the table and slowly eat. Hungry gazes stare at me. I look to the rest of the table, the meagre servings…
"Say, why don't you cook more."
"Don't want."
"Did you ever get in contact with the Pirate Barons chef?" He nods but doesn't say anything.
"Well… Why don't you increase the number of portions a small bit? You can take it from my salary?"
The chef seems to ignore me for a while as I continue eating. Only after I finish and leave the table and the now cold food that he responds.
"Will do."
I felt their worshipping gazes on my back, but they didn't realize why I asked that. Truth be told… I think I was going to visit more often. If they were crazy enough to attack me, I may as well give them an incentive. I could use the training. Just imagine… How hard they will fight when they realize those extra portions will go to me if I make it over.