"How many times must I say it?.. You're going to need more guards," Turles snidely remarked while imposing himself with a malicious grin. "A lot more..."
The thunderstorm raged on. Rain fell heavy like the tears of a weeping widow. It drenched the Saiyan's jumpsuit all the way through to the skin. This torrent was not going to let up. A horrid darkness filled the skies. They floated fifty-feet above the main prison complex, locked in a bitter, unyielding standoff. Flashes of lightning lit the district up, uncovering the twenty riot guards surrounding their madcap convict. Between the loud claps of thunder came the ever-present wailing of the emergency alert module. The ghostly red and blue streaks of watchtower spotlights pierced the clouds, desperately surveying from side-to-side for visual feed. This weather was causing great distress. It interfered with the radio frequency, making communications difficult and triangulating Turles' position near-impossible.
So far, the escape attempt had been a rousing success. With minimal damage control, the Pinneyapple Penitentiary was in a complete meltdown. Riled inmates were rioting in their cells. A distant fire broke out along the East-Wing, sending Cell Block D into a magnificent blaze to be seen for miles around. The fire must have melted through a gas pipe, because shortly after Turles spoke the institute shook violently. A sudden explosion saw windows shattered, brickwork hurled, and moulded Katchin tumbling in every direction; all while cloaked behind a scorching veil of hellish proportions. Needless to say, the warden had his hands full.
"Prisoner T-31," the chief guard called. "We'll give you one last chance. Hand yourself over now.. and i'll make sure you don't lose all your teeth."
"Tut-tut," Turles wagged his finger, taunting the adversary. "Chief Rex, you're in no position to be issuing threats."
Chief Rex was a significantly large specimen. Overshadowing his subordinates by a noteworthy margin, the Saiyan's immense stature and muscle-clad frame likened him to a giant in comparison with Turles. His physical presence was enough to turn a fully-grown man into a quivering wreck. Nobody knew for certain if the chief had any hair beneath his helmet - he was never seen without it on. But to make things worse, Chief Rex was a heartless and sadistic bastard. He thrived off the sensation of being feared. And if for some reason you were not afraid, he would beat that fear into you. As imagined, the latest reports of a misbehaving prisoner was like music to his ears.
The chief smiled widely. A fierce clobbering was overdue and he was going to be the first to dish it out. "Oh, really?.. You're awful cocky for somebody who is outnumbered twenty-to-one.. Hehehe!"
"Outnumbered.." Turles scoffed. "Numbers mean nothing... when you're outclassed."
"Men!" Chief Rex yelled. He shoved his arms forward, focusing the naked palms on his stationary target. "Like we've practised before!.. GO!.. ICOSAHEDRON CANNON!.."
Icosahedron, a geometry term, meaning a shape with twenty equilateral faces. The nineteen other guards adhered to the command; all matching the same stance inaugurated by the chief. Their gloved hands glowed a pure white. Turles was the focal point.
Pathetic.
A stray gust of wind washed the convict's hair over to one side. Nothing could have prepared the guards for what came next.
"YARGHHHHHHHHHHHH!" the chief guard bellowed, releasing all that fermented energy into a powerful, searing beam. This was the cue. Instantly, all encircling members of security fired their Ki also. To onlookers, this unified attack appeared dazzlingly gorgeous. It illuminated the night with its alluring visual display. Meanwhile, the prisoner remained unsettlingly still and cool-headed - there was even an expression of disappointment. Then, he felt the oxygen in his lungs go warm and dense.
"We got 'em!.."Chief Rex felt confident their efforts had worked, but when the smoke lifted, emotions immediately shifted to disbelief. The smog dissipated, only to reveal Turles - unharmed and frowning. Patches of his jumpsuit had been burnt away, but the Saiyan was reasonably unscathed. An other-worldly black aura shimmered around him, like somebody had coated Turles in a dark, glossy paint. It took a few moments for the guards to register what was happening.
Turles had projected a force-field..
"Nice attempt, but now it's my go..." Turles said with a sinister tone. A long time ago, Turles was a master of Ki manipulation. His trips across the universe bore great fruits of knowledge. Encountering many alien species and martial artists, Turles trained hard and methodically to achieve a level beyond the known limits of what life-energy could do. Imprisonment changed everything though. No longer could he sharpen his craft without punishment or ridicule. But now, in his endeavour to be free from this torture, those itching muscles could be exercised.
"GARHH!.."
The blackness of his protective radiance flickered an intense white. Somehow, Turles was tapping into the exact same energy that he was struck with. The twenty guards paced themselves back, unable to comprehend this breathtaking power. Turles intended to use their own Ki against them. Throwing his hands into the sky, the Saiyan roared ferociously. The scorching beams of light, formerly assimilated by his force-field, returned to life and were launched back towards their makers.
Listening to the screams was a pleasantry for Turles. The guards were incinerated, turned to ash, and blown away by the stormy gale. Chief Rex was fortunate. His sturdy physique and raw durability was enough to see his survival, but the Saiyan was greatly weakened. Falling from the sky, the chief painfully crashed into the rooftop of the prison's central complex. Turles floated down to meet him there.
"I warned you," Turles softly mentioned, wearing a twisted smile. "There is nobody on Planet Sadala that is in the same league as me."
Chief Rex coughed violently, blood spouting from his nose like a fountain. "You.. You.. I-.. I-.. will have my revenge..."
Turles chuckled in response. "The concept of vengeance does not apply to dead men.."
The Saiyan's left hand exploded into a black flame once more; his fingers straightened and thumb tucked under. This time, Turles had fashioned his Ki into a serrated weapon. He plunged the tip into the other Saiyan's chest, and just like a carving knife through a joint of beef, it sliced through with ease. More red bodily fluid, warm and bubbling from the heat, poured out and soaked into his guard uniform. The rainwater broadened it around, prompting Turles to step away from the crimsoning puddle.
It's done.
Universe 7 - Earth
West City was its usual self - manic, lively, and sunlit. The summer on Earth could not be beaten, something Beerus and Whis had both come to learn during their regular vacations here. The six sat an outdoor table. Giant ice-cream sundaes, covered in bubblegum balls and different flavoured syrups, were positioned in front of them - namely the two deities and Goku. On the other hand, Vegeta and Bulma were too busy humouring their new guest, Cabba from Universe 6.
"What are you doing here, Cabba?.." The Prince asked, folding his arms and dismissively turning his head. "You're a long way from Sadala."
"Forgive me, Vegeta, sir.. I came here in search of your help." Cabba submissively lowered himself. "I want to get even stronger.. so I can help to sustain the peace in our universe. The Tournament of Power opened my eyes to how powerful beings can become. And if that is the case.. then so can the bad guys. I just want to be ready."
"This dessert parlour is absolutely divine, Bulma!" Whis uncharacteristically intervened, his mouth stuffed with ice-cream. "Bravo for your recommendation!"
"I preferred the ice-cream near the beach huts.." Beerus added. "But this is a close second, nonetheless."
Hmm...
Vegeta stared across the table to Cabba. In the depths of his mind, he held a respect for the Saiyan. To travel this far in search of training was commendable, if not foolish. But did Cabba deserve it? To the Prince of all Saiyans, Cabba was already riddled with weaknesses. Vegeta was focused on surpassing Goku, not lending his experience to a lesser warrior. Accepting this task would only slow that progress. "No.."
Cabba looked up and met Vegeta with a bewildered glare. "W-.. What?.. I-.. I'm sorry?.."
"You heard me. No.."
Bulma, who sat beside them both, was shocked and confused at Vegeta's decision. Goku, Whis, and Beerus placed their eating on an abrupt halt. This spanner thrown in the cogs had ensnared the full attention of all table-dwellers.
"I have two children of my own.." Vegeta continued. "If I've never found the time to properly train them, what makes you think I'll find the time to train you?... Go home, Cabba."
"Oh, come on, Vegeta!.." Goku chimed in, trying to lift the negativity. "If we teach Cabba together, then you won't have to worry about me getting too far ahead, right?.."
"Stay out of this, Kakarot, it doesn't concern you.."
Cabba was clearly upset. The journey to Universe 7 was very arduous and extensive. He hoped it would prove his commitment to Vegeta, but evidently it did not.
"Grrr.. Vegeta!.." Bulma, crimson-faced, growled and detonated. "This young man travelled billions of light-years to get here, and you're gonna' refuse his innocent request to teach him!?.. What kind of a man are you!?.. I oughta' get the Dragon Balls and wish you to be more respectful! But I bet even that would be beyond Shenron's power, huh!?.. You're useless and should be ashamed to call yourself a Saiyan!.. You egotistical jerk!.."
The five males, seated around the table, were almost cowering beneath it. The fury of Bulma was renowned, but for Cabba this was a new experience altogether, and it was utterly terrifying. Even Caulifla's aggressive attitude paled in contrast. The only ordeal that came remotely close was when Kale transformed into a Super Saiyan for the first time. Were all the women of Earth like this?
Bulma's outburst left Vegeta silenced. He was accustomed to it, but could never brave himself to challenge her in this mood. The Prince stiffened his back and cleared his throat - resuming his careless attitude.
"Fine!.." he snobbishly conceited. "But we do this on Sadala... and Kakarot is helping."
The barely perceptible frown on Cabba's face instantly flipped. His demeanor now held an abundance of enthusiasm. Vegeta had accepted his request and Cabba was elated.
"Ahem.." Beerus impinged with a cough, then dabbed his mouth clean with a pink handkerchief.
"Huh?.. Is something wrong, Lord Beerus?.."
"As a matter of fact, Goku, there is," the god replied. "You see, while you exist in my universe, you become my responsibility. By you two visiting Planet Sadala, that jurisdiction falls over to my oaf-for-a-brother, Champa. And right now, you two are the most valuable assets in Universe 7... I can't afford for you to be destroyed."
"What makes you think Champa will destroy us?.. We're not exactly challenging him to a fight," responded Vegeta.
"One thing you'll come to know about Champa is that he can hold onto a grudge for millions of years... he's pathetically childish like that. The chances are, he's still a little annoyed about being eliminated from the Tournament of Power. I can bet that he'll see you two as opportunity for payback."
"But, we've beaten a Destroyer God before, Lord Beerus, I'm sure we can do it again, right!?.." Goku retorted.
"Don't you mean, I beat a Destroyer God, Kakarot?.." asserted Vegeta, who delivered him a menacing stare. This was met by a nervous, light-hearted chuckle from Goku. His muscular arm reached behind his head, pressing his apologetic body-language on Vegeta. Goku was a doofus, but an innocent one at that.
Beerus smiled, then closed his eyes. "I admire your tenacity, Saiyans, but my brother is not Toppo... Without a doubt, you two have grown very powerful under Whis' tutelage... but like myself, Champa is still leagues above you."
"Awh man!" Goku cheerlessly exclaimed. "I really wanted to visit Sadala.."
The attention of the group unexpectedly switched. Resonating from behind Cabba came the faint ringing of a communications device. Before the Saiyan's long departure to Universe 7, he made sure to pack all the essentials, including some contactable equipment in case of an emergency. Cabba was astounded to hear its sonorous jingle play loudly like a telephone. It was now a very serious situation. He unlatched the disc-shaped item from his belt and positioned it on the table. Cabba then ran his index finger along its side, pressed a button and accepted the incoming transmission. The chrome slats on the device folded outward. A translucent hue of blue light beckoned out, projecting the holographic image of a young woman - Caulifla. The reception was dreadful. At random intervals it would twitch, and this made her figure distort beyond recognition. The distance between Planet Sadala and Earth was putting an immense strain on the connection quality.
"Cabba!" called Caulifla, her voice reverberating and cutting out at the end. "You need to get your ass back here, pronto!.."
"Caulifla?.." Cabba spoke with a hint of bewilderment. "Why?.. What's going on!?.."
Her response was muffled by static.
"Someon-.. -.. br-... prison-.. really evil!.."
"Stay right there! I'll be as fast as I can."
The holograph of Caulifla faded and the chrome slats overlapped once again. Cabba picked the device up and clipped it back on his belt. He needed to get home, but the spaceship which brought him to Earth was nowhere quick enough. Cabba stood, approached Whis, then sincerely bowed.
"I apologise greatly for the intrusion, master Whis," he said. "But, I greatly need your help to return home.."
Whis lowered the dessert spoon onto the table and pondered - It's not everyday a mortal asks me for a favour..
Universe 6 - Planet Sadala
The caterwauling of police sirens was endless. Law enforcement vehicles swamped the city, polluting the streets with their sharp blue and red highlights. They forced the convict into laying low. The narrow, back alley lanes were an ideal choice to remain hidden, yet also mobile. Turles was a wanted man, and the police now had Sadala City on lockdown. All traffic along the highways came to an abrupt standstill. Cars were being randomly inspected; checking to see if their criminal was being smuggled out. Before his imprisonment, Turles had legions of dedicated accomplices - some even willing to die for him. He ran his syndicate like a religious cult, and because of this, the police were not leaving any stone unturned.
Cautiously stalking through the backstreets, Turles absorbed his surroundings like a liberated whale from a fishing net. This was freedom.
Then, the sudden crashing of toppling trash-cans snapped him out of this trance. Startled, it evoked a fierce response from Turles - a primitive growl. But to the Saiyan's comfort, the source of the noise was only a feral cat. Somehow, the creature had stranded itself inside; probably in search of food. It gave him a ferocious hiss, then dashed off into the shadows, never to be seen again. He felt a poetic parallel with the cat - a graceful creature trying to survive, only to be trapped by the consequences of his own actions. Turles almost frowned with sadness, before quickly dismissing the ordeal entirely.
Sorrow is weakness.
"Hmph!" grunted Turles.
He then turned the corner and paused. Beneath a dimly lit lamppost was a wooden door. Music thundered from within. A tall Namekian stood guard; his arms folded and cold gaze fixed on the Saiyan. He was the bouncer to this suburban nightclub. Brawny, robust, and - as usually associated with bouncers - forbidding.
"You're the one, right?.." he spoke; his voice hoarse and somber.
The Namekian's inquiry trawled a dubious response from Turles. The Saiyan was still trudging about in his holey and soaked, bright orange jumpsuit. Identifying him was not going to be difficult, especially for an undercover police officer. But was this alien that - an undercover police officer? Turles doubted it. He replied equally as monotonous:
"I am, will there be a problem?.."
"No. No problem, not from me, anyway... There's two cops inside," the Namekian jerked his head backwards, calling attention to the wooden door. "They've got posters with your face on; showing them around to people."
"And why are you telling me this?..."
"Because there are a lot of loyalists in there too.. loyalists to you, that would still gladly die in your honor."
This information triggered a proud grin. Turles' devoted forces were still at large, if only in small doses. It was enough for now, but the Saiyan knew those numbers needed increasing if he was to ever to fulfil his plan and summon forth his once mighty armada again. Turles wandered closer to the Namekian security guard. The alien stood at least twice his size and double his mass. "And where does that leave you?.. Are you a follower of mine also?"
"That leaves me a skeptic," the Namekian bluntly said. "There's plenty of stories about you, but only a handful are actually believable."
"Is that so? Then, allow me the opportunity to convince you otherwise."
"How do you intend to go about doing that?" the Namekian replied. It suddenly compelled the Saiyan to reflect. Killing the police officers in the club would only cause extra unwanted attention, neither would it give Turles the chance to showcase the extent of his power. Turles perceived the Namekian's words as a challenge - one that he needed to satisfy or risk damaging his legendary reputation. But in his current predicament, Turles soon realised it would be best to save his credential boasting for a more appropriate time.
"I will figure something out. But for now, I need to ask for a goodwill gesture, if you would kindly oblige?.."
Caulifla and Kale were on patrol. Alerted to the news of the highly dangerous escaped convict, the two Saiyans were enlisted by King Sadala himself to assist in finding and apprehending the space-pirate. The windy skies of the thunderstorm troubled the two. At any moment a bolt of lightning could strike them, but they were not so easily phased. Kale and Caulifla were tough. It would take more than a jolt of electricity and immense heat to deter them. If anything, the most trouble arose from maintaining a steady flight pattern. The forceful gales flung the Saiyans about like a game of paddle ball, and they were barely able to realign themselves after each occurrence.
"Sis!.." yelled Kale, her voice chimed with an innate shyness. "Are you sure we're going the right way!?"
Caulifla, who flew ahead of Kale and leading the search, turned around. She shrouded her eyes from the diagonal rain with a forearm and gave off an excitable smile. "No idea, Kale!.. All I know is that this part of the city is where all the scum hang out!"
"Uhh.. Okay!" Kale replied. "Do you think Cabba will come?.."
"He better!" Caulifla said. "The idiot took off to go train with those chumps in Universe 7, and told us to call him if anything bad happened! Not like we can't handle it.."
"Yeah.. I remember," Kale said. "King Sadala did mention that this guy was incredibly powerful.. maybe we should wait for Cabba?"
"Oh, come on, sis! We can beat anyone!.. Don't you remember the Tournament of Power? Together, we're unstoppable!"
The confidence extruding from Caulifla lifted Kale's emotions. Her inherent nervousness faded and she felt empowered. Kale raised up her thumb and smiled back.
"Alright, Kale!" Caulifla cheerfully continued. The Saiyan turned her focus back to the streets below. Beneath her, the streetlights were so orange and beautiful. Caulifla could see all the details of the roads. But when the orange hue shifted to a concurrent flickering of blue and red lights, it snagged her instantly. Several police cars were parked outside a dark alleyway. In the backstreet, a large wooden door, music thumping from within, was the centre of attention. They must have found him in there!
Kale and Caulifla lowered themselves and met the police at ground-level.
"Why haven't you just blown the door open and stormed the place!?" Caulifla angrily questioned out loud.
"They have two officers hostage," the police captain replied. "If we breach the door, they die."
"Wait a minute.." Caulifla then said, stepping closer to the captain. He looked strangely recognisable. "Bro? Is that you?.. Renso?.. What are you doing? I thought you retired from the Sadala Defense Force?.."
"I did," Renso answered, his voice devoid of any sentiment. "But now that Turles has escaped from prison.. it changes things."
"Who?.." Kale and Caulifla synchronously asked, completely unfamiliar with the name.