Nevrrest's fangs extended from her pallet as she clenched her beak, walking up to Un Nettelish so directly that the guards skittered back in fright. "How incredibly irrelevant," she angrily accused.

"Now we all know that's a lie," Un Nettelish only chuckled.

"No, she's right!" Horkion backed her, also stepping up, "Even if she was a Saiyan, it doesn't change the fact that she was a Justiciar!" His gaze fell. "Besides, Goku was a Saiyan too."

"Goku?" she grinned, her tail flicking all the more, "You mean the Legendary Super Saiyan, savior of the galaxy? The one that I murdered under your benevolent watch." This time a loud murmur of gasps sounded, especially through the guards and marshals. "Hmph," she cutely shrugged her muscular frame, "I'm afraid Goku was one of a kind. While Breet here was a true Saiyan through and through. And as such…a former member of the PTO." She giggled, slyly raising her glowing gaze at them. "Yes, Breet. That was her true name. An elite warrior serving under King Vegeta. One who was very talented at her work, I might add."

"And we are meant to take your word at this, pretender?" Oom'Bagu flatly glared.

"By all means no," she admonished, giving him a scolding look, "That would be most inappropriate. But, once the computer is back online, you will easily be able to find her record in the PTO database. She was, after all, a most efficient planet clearer. So much so that she worked solo on most missions, singled handedly eliminating entire world populations. Every…last…one."

"Well aren't you Captain Obvious," Laswe sneered, folding his arms and buzzing his wings loudly, "Everyone in this room knows exactly what you're trying to pull here. You're trying to say that our Nettelish was just as evil as you are." He jabbed her in the chest, getting right up in her face. "Well that's not true! There are literally billions of people who can attest to what kind of person she was in those two years she was with us."

"Very well spoken, Laswe," Oom'Bagu agreed with a slow nod, "As a member of the Justice, she fought to guard the weak and oppose those who would do the galaxy harm. And knowing now what she was, I can see how she harnessed that natural fury in an effort to stop evil. And even before that, she served as a Libra Monk protecting the natural balance of the universe."

"And as far as we're concerned," Horkion affirmed, joining the line of Justiciars as they stood in opposition of Un, "Whatever she might have been in another time; whatever she might have done under another name, she's clear in our book."

Just as the murmurs and nods of approval started, Un Nettelish broke into beautiful, mocking laughter, her mane of saiyan hair tossing with the motion. "Ahahahahahaha! Oh how twisted your sense of justice really is. You would grant a full pardon to your companion based on services rendered…" She jerked her head fiercely in Vegeta's direction. "But you wouldn't dare do the same for him." Vegeta's teeth clenched, uncomfortable to have the attention suddenly thrusted on him. No one answered and she chuckled all the more. "Oops. Hadn't thought of that, had you? Of course, I don't honestly care what you do with him. Not my concern anymore. And honestly, he's the least of your concerns at this point as well." Her dark brow lowered. "What you really should be asking yourselves is…why is Nevrrest being so quiet?"

Caught off guard by this remark, all eyes were suddenly on the towering Blecha, her plume stiff and erect. The tension in her body was so great it seemed a pin prick would make her burst.

Un Nettelish savored the sight. "Cause none of this is as shattering to anyone as it is to you, is it, Nevrrest? Cause you know what they don't know. And I know what you don't dare say…" Her brow lowered, the mocking glee fading from her expression and deepening into severe intensity. "That from the beginning, your deepest wishes have all ridden on me." Nevrrest's eyes locked with hers and Un Nettelish chuckled. "Think about it…do you have any idea how sloppy you are? Your plans benefitted mine so I was always there, subtly and secretly helping you. And on top of that I performed for you the largest of favors…" She took a step forward, her Saiyan muscles rippling as she cruelly grinned. "Taking Nettelish out."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Laswe hissed, the rest of them only staring.

"Shh," Un Nettelish replied briefly, refocusing on Nevrrest, "Yes, because you have no idea what an enemy of yours she was destined to be. You see…" She shrugged with a smug little smile. "Your friends were right. The Breet of days past and the Nettelish you knew lived very different lives and held to very different ideals. Breet was a ruthless killer and selfish libertine. As Nettelish, she was taught kindness and self-control. But above all, she was taught something that all true beings of power like yourself despise…" Her glowing eyes narrowed. "A little devil called mercy."

Nevrrest's beak opened, seeming to struggle to breathe, hardly even blinking as her talons twitched.

"Can you imagine it, Nevrrest?" said Un Nettelish softly, "The efforts she would have made to find redemption and forgiveness for your prisoners? And Vegeta…" Her eyes fell on the saiyan prince, who could only stare with helpless frustration. "Do you really think she would have let you gotten away with all you've done to him? She would have done everything she could to ensure he got a 'fair trial'." These last two words were spoken with the deepest mocking, making Nevrrest's teeth appear.

Oom'Bagu's eyes shifted heavily on Nevrrest but returned to their prisoner. "Very well, I think that is enough," he stated firmly.

"Hehehe…oh but I'm not done," she darkly purred, with a cute raise of her shoulders. She shook out her exotic mane and grinned at Nevrrest. "How does it feel, Nevrrest? How does it feel to know one of your greatest allies was destined to be your enemy? How does it feel to know she was a Saiyan and that Vegeta was her prince? How does it feel to know your 'Justice' was doomed before it began? How does it feel to know that it was I who made your entire—"

A red beam cored out the center of her chest, leaving only a smoking hole behind. There was no look of shock or betrayal on Un Nettelish's face, only the emptiness of a doll who's soul had already been evaporated. She wobbled slightly for a moment and then crumbled onto the floor with a gentle thud.

Nevrrest's outstretched arm trembled violently, the offending finger still pointing as she gasped and hissed. All noise in the room was as dead as the imposter's corpse, eyes wide and jaws agape in horror, disbelieving.

"Shhhiiiiiiitttttt, she finally did it!" Lacor screamed, the other prisoners crying out as he clamored over their heads, actually managing to bash his way through the guards somehow as he ran for the door.

Nevrrest snapped out of her trance, her wide eyes shifting as Lacor bolted and her beak clenched. "And where do you think you're going?!" she screeched, her hand thrusting out, her fingers curled.

Lacor's eyes turned to dots as his feet left the ground. "Oh no—AAAAAHH!" he shrieked as he exploded.

"Damn it!" Vegeta cried out, gritting his teeth and taking a step back.

Before anyone could take a breath, red beams started pouring like rain down into the crowd of prisoners, the red shirts howling in terror as one by one their lives were snuffed out. "Monsters! Animals! Dirt! Trash! Filth!" Nevrrest bellowed as bodies hit the deck, "You'll pay! YOU'LL PAY!"

A furred hand seized her by her plume and shot her up into the air. She blinked and Oom'Bagu was in the air with her, his brow tight with resolve. Rings of mauve light leapt off her chest as he jabbed her. Her eyes rolled back and she thudded motionless against the courtroom floor, the blood of her victims pooling around her. The remaining prisoners clung to the guards for protection. Oom'Bagu's boots touched the deck softly and his brow flattened with grief.

Laswe stood propped up on his tail, a little drool dripping out the side of his hanging jaw. "…Oh shit," he breathed.

Oom'Bagu looked at the guards and marshals, frozen in their shoes. "Clear the room," he ordered, "Take the prisoners to courtroom 16." He looked down at Nevrrest's still form. "And speak to no one of this." Not a word was said as these orders were obeyed. A guard slipped off from the rest to collect Vegeta. "Not him. He stays." The guard and Vegeta stared at each other with a brief start before the black shirt shuffled out.

As the courtroom emptied, Nevrrest twitched and gasped a breath, rapidly pushing herself up on an elbow. She looked around herself like a frightened child, shaking. Her eyes fell on the smoking bodies. "What? No. I really…I really…what…"

Oom'Bagu stooped before her, pressing his hand to her head, his eyes glowing slightly. "Your emotions are erratic. You've had a mental break down, Nevrrest."

"Mental break down?!" Laswe cried, his wings buzzing to life and eyes still wide, "Oom'Bagu, do you realize what she just…?"

Horkion still couldn't say anything or move, only stare as Oom'Bagu took one of Nevrrest's hands, cupping it between his. "Nevrrest? Look at me." She obeyed, her lids twitching anxiously. "You're emotionally compromised. Unable to function. Return to your quarters at once."

"I…"

"Go, my friend," Oom'Bagu seriously insisted, "I will help you. I promise. But you must go."

"I…" she said, as if in a dream, getting to her feet and hugging an arm around herself, "I…yes…yes, I…I'd better…" She looked back at the bodies and her face twitched violently before turning away. She stumbled out the heavy doors.

Oom'Bagu watched her go, not looking at anyone else. But eventually he gave a low, rumbling hum. "You needn't say anything, Prince Vegeta. I can sense every aspect of your rage clearly enough."

"Tsk," Vegeta spat with disgust, turning his head to the side and glaring at them all, "You don't have to be an empath to know that, Gregorik. My feelings on this are quite clearly written on my face."

"Monkey's got a point, Oom'Bagu," Laswe remarked, hovering to the side.

"Shut up," said Oom'Bagu. Laswe obeyed, taken aback by the moderate's crassness. He rolled his shoulders heavily and refocused on the saiyan prince. "It seems the Justice owes you a debt."

"Is that so?" Vegeta irritably returned.

"Yes," Oom'Bagu simply nodded, "You have performed a great service for us. And I will see to it that you are rewarded in kind." He glanced back at Horkion and Laswe. "But what kind is yet to be decided. So, for now, I will grant you this boon." He was silent for a moment and then eyed Vegeta sharply. "One hour. I grant you one hour of freedom within the confines of this ship. I will see to it that no member of the staff will give you trouble in that time. By the end of the hour, you are to enter one of the Hammer's holding cells and remain there until given further instructions."

Vegeta's brow deepened angrily at him. "You steal my right to destroy Un from me and this is the best you can offer?!" He spat again and turned his back. "You're pathetic. Un was right." He clenched his teeth, glaring at the floor. "This damn fleet was doomed to begin with."

Overcome with rage, his tail unraveled and flapped viciously as he stormed out the door. Horkion tugged at his jaw, seeming to move for the first time since Nevrrest's rampage. "So…what are we going to do?"

"Mmrrrr!" Laswe growled, clenching his head in both hands. He threw a little fit in midair for a moment, his crab-like legs kicking about until at last he gave the heaviest of sighs. "Okay…we…we need…to do the most goddamn hardcore damage control this galaxy has ever seen if we have any hope of surviving this."

"But…she didn't mean to, I know it," Horkion offered, holding up his hands to the Ponachi, "Didn't you see her face? She was just as horrified at her actions as the rest of us!"

"Do you think that's gonna goddamn matter to anyone but us?" Laswe hissed, baring down on the little Minarite, "Whether it was in a fit of emotion or something worse, she just threw our reputation out the window."

"Wait," Horkion gaped nervously, "What do you mean 'something worse'?"

"Nothing that happened in this chamber must ever leave it," Oom'Bagu cut in, drawing their attention. His expression grew even more grave. "Nothing."

"God, I hate this…but yeah, I agree," Laswe grumbled, leaning on Horkion for emotional support.

Horkion gave them both a horrified look. "But…what about the people she just…?"

"Killed in the battle."

"But that's a lie!"

"Oh shit, Horkion!" Laswe snapped at him again, his jelly flesh darkening, "Do you have to be so moralistic and naïve now?! Now? Now?! Can't you let it go just once!"

"But I thought we stood for something better!" Horkion shouted back.

"We do!" Laswe returned just as loud, "And that's why we can't let anyone know!"

"He's right, Horkion," said Oom'Bagu softly and sadly. His eyes fell. "We made ourselves into symbols but we're only mortals underneath. And…the Justice is still so young and fragile. It…I don't know if it can survive this."

"We…" Laswe put a hand grievously to his face. "We don't know what's going to happen to Misado. Nettelish is dead…" He looked at the corpse. "You might even say extra dead now. And…I don't know how much more Nevrrest can take. I mean…she's tough. But we all have our limits."

"So…I guess it's up to us three to make things right," Horkion sighed, bowing his head in submission, "I understand. Keep Nettelish's identity a secret. Never let anyone know that Nevrrest lost control. It's…it's what's best for everyone." He looked up. "But that leaves one more thing, though. What about Vegeta?"

"Pheeeww-boy," Laswe sighed, flopping back on his tail, "Well there's several problems with that one. His trial is botched. Goku's dead. And he's the only reason any of this is still standing."

"Indeed," Oom'Bagu agreed.

"Goku…" Horkion hugged himself, shivering a little, "Are we going to have to keep that secret too?"

Oom'Bagu's expression fell even lower. "I…I don't know…"

"Yeah…that's a tough one." Laswe's wings twitched. "Argh…no good reason to let the public know. It would just crush people's hopes. In a way, he was a bigger symbol than even we are."

"We must inform his family," Oom'Bagu determined, "But otherwise agreed. No official statement will be made."

"But what about Vegeta?" Horkion insisted.

Laswe stroked his throat thoughtfully. "Okay. I got it." They gave him their full attention. "Here's what we're going to do. We give him bail for…a year. Let him go home and get his affairs in order. During that time we can clean up this mess. Then after the year's up we'll bring him back and try him again."

"An excellent plan," Oom'Bagu agreed.

"Yeah," Horkion nodded, giving another sigh, "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

"Details can be resolved later," Oom'Bagu stated, looking firmly at his companions, "For now, let us do what we can to swiftly return order to this fleet."

(**Scene Break**)

The silence was great as the three justiciars departed from the desecrated chamber. But no silence was as great or terrible as the one that hung over Nevrrest as she watched them leave. She hadn't meant to go against Oom'Bagu. She had intended to head straight for her quarters as instructed. But the moment she had heard Vegeta's voice carry through those doors it had reawakened something inside her. So instead of finding rest in her living space, she had concealed her energy and taken refuge by one of the ornate columns that decorated the judicial deck. She had overheard every word, watched motionless as Vegeta stormed out, and listened to what was said afterwards.

But what had been said? Mercy, yes, mercy indeed. They would protect her. No one would know what had happened in that room. But why didn't that knowledge bring her comfort? Instead, four words screamed over and over through her cranium like a rogue heart beat – what have you done, what have you done, what have you done? Dozens of frightened eyes tore her insides apart like so many delicate spider's webs. Is that all her insides were? A hallow void filled with dust and the remnants of long-dead arachnids?

No, no! She was thinking nonsense! Why couldn't she think? Why did she feel like a hundred voices were screaming inside? Or was that just the echo of her mind? Yes, she could see it clear as day, a little chick with a bleeding hole in her chest screaming as a red beam poured like a torrent from her jaws. Fingers twitching and trembling, Nevrrest upheld the murderous hand. Is that what it had been again? An internal scream manifesting in a blaze of death? Yes, it had been. But a half second before, she had had no intention of murdering anyone. But suddenly she had found herself doing it and had just watched it happen, like a prisoner in her own body.

But she was no victim of mind control – it had been she, Nevrrest the Crimson, who had enacted that slaughter. There was no doubt. It was a crime of passion, but murder none the less. Both her arms tensed before her, trying to control her shaking. And what of Vegeta? Yes, yes, yes, that had been part of it. A reward – a reprieve – that was his destiny. And he had earned it, had he not? He had done more than just put an end to the insurrection, he had gone out of his way to save lives. Why? Why? Why?!

Her talons sank into her feathers as she clutched her head, hissing and shaking as her wide eyes twitched. Could it be? Had destiny turned on its head? Sepis's gentle, sweet, insectoid face flashed through her mind and she reached out a hand slightly as though she could touch it. Vegeta had saved him. Why had he saved him?! What reason could he possibly have had to have done that?! Was he trying to mock her? Did he have some exterior motive towards Sepis himself?! WHY?!

Why had she killed those unarmed prisoners? Why had Vegeta saved her Sepis? When had water turned to sand and night into day? She wobbled and slumped against the wall, her talons digging helpless groves into the decorative stone.

The answer is simplicity itself, said the grown Nevrrest to the child in her mind, The Vegeta I knew has changed. He…he is no longer the devil who's shadow had haunted my dreams.

But the child quaked and shrieked. NO! He can't change! He's mine to destroy!

He was mine… she helplessly replied, But that man…that bad, bad man…he's gone.

Angry tears ran from the chick's eyes as her fists clenched at her sides. No…he's not gone! He's just changed! I'll change him back!

What a completely childish idea, the warrior shook her head, Change him back. I would turn him into a monster again? She eyed the bleeding chick. What does that make me?

The chick froze, gazing at this other aspect of the being Nevrrest with horror. Eventually her head bowed. And sharp rows of teeth sprang from under her beak. Eheehee…so is that it then? After all that's happened I'm the monster now. A tear ran down her cheek. Why? Because I want to punish him for what he did? It's not fair—I have to make him pay!

Any sound person knows very well there is more than one way to pay for a crime, the warrior replied, her tail moving slowly, her jaw clenched with frustration, Yet, all the same, there is nothing more in the universe I wanted more than to make him suffer…

The chick turned, holding up her hands. Then why shouldn't I?! she screamed, Haven't I earned it?! She bowed her head again, shaking. All the trash I've shoveled; all the lives I've saved! She cut an arm through the air. All I've ever wanted – all I've ever dreamed of – is this! This one thing! I have to destroy Vegeta! Haven't I earned it?!

Aye, I have earned that right… the warrior somberly agreed, I've earned the right to whatever my heart desires. She snorted. But I never did any of that for a reward. I did it 'cause I wanted to destroy the universe that was run by monsters and thugs. That was my desire.

But even still, I'm not happy! the chick piped with more angry tears, I'll never be happy as long as Vegeta's alive!

No…I won't… the warrior admitted, I will be forever haunted and forever in agony as long as he has not paid the ultimate price. She looked up. But then again…is it not the characteristic of a monster to desire another's pain?

Again, those sharp teeth extended from the chick's pallet. Again, thinking I'm a monster. I'm a monster, am I? She giggled angrily and glared. Says who? Her fuzzy feathers puffed up around her. In this universe, rules and judgments are made by the strongest. She thumbed her bleeding chest. Well I'm the strongest now!

Yes, that is certainly true, the warrior again agreed, But even by my own standards what I truly desire is nothing short of monstrous.

A deep silence fell over Nevrrest's mind as this realization was made. Her breathing heavy, Nevrrest's talons dug deeper into the decorative stone, that grip alone keeping her balance. But eventually her mouth closed and her head lifted slightly.

The child clenched a determined fist. Fine. If that's how it is…then that's what I'll be. The little blecha turned to face the visage of child Prince Vegeta in her mind and the warrior cracked like glass. I'll become a monster. For you, Vegeta.

Nevrrest shuddered back, stumbling as the dark kai gushed into the corners of her mind. She let go of the wall, gripping her head once again, a cold chill running over her scales and every feather like a penetrating needle.

The darkness engulfed every corner, surrounding the chick as she stood in resolution, the warrior lost in the murky glaze. If Vegeta is good, then I'll be evil. I won't let petty ideals distract me from the sole reason I survived. Her visage twitched with disgust. The hero worship, the fame, I never asked for any of that. I'm not here to coddle idiot dreams of redemption. I exist only to punish and destroy…and a moral code is a small price to pay for true justice…

Nevrrest's eyes opened, as if awakening for the first time, and gazed down the hall with a sweet, dark calm, highlighted by the dark, dark red energy that misted around her like a slow flame. "Thought you could escape me by become a good man, did you?" Her cheeks stretched in a ruthless smile. "What a nice fantasy…"

(**Scene Break**)

When they had parted ways, Horkion and Laswe had no doubt assumed he would be headed to go about the business of reorganizing the prison ships. Oom'Bagu had honestly expected that of himself as well. But despite his sense of duty, he was and always would be a Gregorik at heart. Of all the ideals Gregoriks held dear, the strongest of these was 'mo'mon ya'y fore'faar sat' – or loosely translated to 'we safeguard each other'. In a life of self-imposed exile for the crime of becoming a killer, he had very few left to hold dear. Nevrrest was one of those few. He had promised to help her. And help her he would.

But to do that, he needed help first. And there was only one who could help him. Rumor had it he had survived the massacre of Prison Ship 7.

Stepping through the manually secured door, it did not feel like entering a modern medical room. The open-format infirmary of The Hammer was packed with bodies moving everywhere – doctors snarling orders at anxious maintenance workers, techies, cooks, and whoever else they could salvage to assist in emergency care; patients being rotated in and out of healing chambers and crying out as on the fly procedures were performed on them. Oom'Bagu carefully navigated his way through the madness, again questioning his own actions but proceeding anyways.

He found Dr. Tottle beating some unfortunate girl over the head with a clipboard. "I don't have time for your excuses! I said nepholac, not moralex! If you can't manage that then get out! Before you turn someone catatonic!" He threw the clipboard at her as she at last escaped him.

"Doctor," said Oom'Bagu.

"Warden," said Dr. Tottle, barely even looking at him as he helped pass a vial along, "While I appreciate your assistance, aren't you needed elsewhere?"

"You misunderstand," sounded the Gregorik, "I need you."

There was something in his voice that made the wrinkly green doctor pause, glancing back over his shoulder as another patient was swapped out of a healing chamber. His eyes shifted. "Two minutes."

Dr. Tottle quickly guided them outside much faster than Oom'Bagu had entered, the two men standing in the relative quiet of the hallway. Dr. Tottle folded his arm, giving Oom'Bagu a very attentive if impatient look.

The Grand Warden sighed. "What I am about to ask you may seem irrelevant in the face of the current situation…but believe me when I say it is a matter of the fate of this fleet."

Dr. Tottle simple nodded, still waiting.

Oom'Bagu drew another breath. "The day of the malfunction that took place in your infirmary…was there anything I overlooked? The slightest detail."

"If you are asking if I thought you were sloppy then no," Dr. Tottle shortly answered, "I found your investigation of the matter, while brief, very thorough."

Oom'Bagu sighed, the deep tone touched with relief.

"However…" Oom'Bagu's eyes shifted as the doctor turned from him, touching his chin. "There was one thing that has been bothering me. Doctor Resetti."

"You think he was innocent as he claims?"

Dr. Tottle almost laughed. "And I'm Lord Frieza – by the defiler no. No, he was definitely involved." He started plucking at his rough chin again. "But his actions seem so lazy."

"Explain."

"Shut up and I will, damn it," Dr. Tottle retorted. He tapped his foot. "You see, as much as I utterly despise that man, I'll admit he's a medical genius. Were he not a venomous worm, his skills could be used to save countless lives. His understanding the standard frame is challenged by none. That said…" His eyes narrowed. "I don't understand why he did what he did. Perhaps he was in a hurry, yes, but with an entire state of the art lab at his disposal and decades of experience as a torturer under his belt, he could have done any number of horrific things to our saiyan guest. But instead, he elected to inject Vegeta with a formula that a first year medical student could have come up with…or even someone who was just well read enough."

Oom'Bagu's heart drummed, an image flashing through his mind of Nevrrest in her room holding a datapad and desk piled with books.

"That aside, there's no way to effectively prove whether Lacor and Tupa were involved or not, as you already determined," Dr. Tottle continued with a flick of his wrist, "Though, there's no way those two could have the knowledge to pull something like that off."

"Let us hope."

"Pardon?"

"Thank you, Doctor," Oom'Bagu stated without response, giving him a short bow, "I will detain you from your work no further."

The Grand Warden left the good doctor with a confused and concerned look on his face. As for Oom'Bagu, his weathered expression moved little until he was a good distance from all energy signatures. It was only then that an entire day's worth of horror, tension, and grief exploded through him and he roared, slamming a fist against the corridor wall. The ship's shielding did its best to absorb the impact, but still spider-web cracks ran for yards onward from the epicenter of the Gregorik's fist. Oom'Bagu breathed heavily through his clenched teeth and then slumped heavily against the wall, the first button of his vest coming undone.

"Please, my old friend…" Oom'Bagu quietly begged, pinching his brow, "Please don't let it be true. Please don't do this to me…"

But that empty hall offered him neither answers nor comfort. His large boots fidgeted against the floor. He knew in his gut that no one was forcing him to do this. It was completely within his ability to ignore the signs and let the matter slip away unnoticed and unremarked. But not only would that be wrongful; it would be incredibly selfish. He drew a breath, clenching a fist by his side. No, there was only one course he would take.

He had to investigate the matter further. And he wouldn't accomplish that by standing in place. Turning to the right, he directed himself towards the transit tube that would lead him to the blood-splattered Prison Ship 7.