Duty

Chapter 4: The Crime

The day was growing dark by the time the planet's first sun had set. He walked a dusty footpath under the waxing, pitiful light of a red dwarf, the sky's sole sad guardian while its brighter, larger brother began its rest. Soon there would barely be enough light to find his way outside. This world would plunge into near darkness, just tinged with red, and the temperature would plummet cold enough to kill.

Bardock growled as he grabbed the straps of his armor and tightened them, fixing his pauldrons in place. There was already a chill.

He climbed a well-trodden hill and slid down its slope into a small bowl in the surrounding rock. Wind whistled and fluttered through his hair. 'You here?' he called.

Movement to his right. 'He was getting impatient,' a sturdy voice said.

She stepped out alongside a rolling wind. Ceripa's armor was in even worse shape than his. A fight? He couldn't be sure. It had been a few months since they've last gathered. But perhaps she just plain looked like shit. Her frazzy black hair could have been last cut by a bent saw.

Bardock grunted. 'The others are nearby?' He crossed to his left and sat on a boulder.

Ceripa moved so that she faced him from the other side of the bowl. Her right hand, flattened, stretched at her side. 'They are.'

'Then bring him out.'

With a nod she craned her head. 'You heard him.'

Subtle noise, the sound of armor brushing against fabric and boots skimming across dusty earth, flowed into the bowl before two came into view. Two Saiyans, one standing tall- the other kicked forward. Ceripa accepted the crawling man, yanked him up by his ragged dirt-smeared shirt, and pulled him in front of her- facing Bardock.

'So? You're the man?'

Thin black hair fell across his face, mixing with grease, mixing with blood. He had been beaten. Considering his crimes, Bardock hadn't expected any different.

'Screw you.' The traitor refused to meet his gaze.

'That's it?' With a slow exhale Bardock sat forward and linked his hands in his laps. 'This is your one chance to explain why you sold out your cell.' He searched the man's posture. 'They were friends of mine- as much as anyone can be friends under these conditions.'

The traitor coughed. Fine white mist spilled out of him, speckled with red. 'Would anything I say save my life?'

Hesitation; Bardock noted the creeping gray in Ceripa's eyes and the growing chill in the air. 'No.'

'Then I have nothing to say to you. I made my choice.' In acceptance the traitor stretched his head forward, exposing his neck. 'Time to die with it.'

'Fine.' Bardock sighed as he pushed off his knees and stood. 'Then it is with great reluctance I pronounce you dead under the old laws. You end as you lived.' Habitual force filled his words. 'You will not die a Saiyan.'

A twinge shook the black veil around the traitor's head. 'Just so you know- they wanted to die,' he said quickly. Hair swung and Bardock saw his eyes, black and dull like a worn opal, hollow like a fading memory. 'This isn't a life worth living. So I sped things along. For them.'

Even in his last moments he could not summon the fire of life. Everything Bardock saw was burnt out from within and passing ashes.

Ceripa found his gaze, somehow.

'Do it.'

'What can we do?'

The sounds of camp- the chatter of old friends reuniting and cookware being clinked- had lulled him to an old memory. He was with his wife, Gine, sitting amid the wilds with a bowl of smoked meat between them and a boundless forest stretching to the horizon. It was before everything- before the kids, before the PTO, and before the end of it all. The moment was- had been perfect. The companionable silence as they gorged on plump shanks of meat and watched the planet live.

But like everything now, a faint aura of pain circled it. Perfect memory eluded him.

He closed his eyes to clear the image from his mind. 'Meaning?'

'What can we do to keep this going?'

Ceripa finally grew impatient with his slow-moving act and punched him on the arm. 'Hey!' Bardock shouted, eyes flying open.

'Listen, will you?' She swept an arm over the rest of the camp. The glow of fire lingered on everything amidst the farther-off darkness. 'Is there any way we can prolong this?'

The sounds of camp sung; sometimes Bardock thought there was a duality to pain and pleasure. That great suffering led to great joy. Or perhaps great joy led to great suffering. Some version of that.

'Look at them,' she urged. Among the twenty-odd gathered in the night's gloom, lit by the tiny red dwarf star in the sky and the person-high bonfires warding off the cold, two ratty-looking brothers were taking turns belching at each other. Near them two women were doing the same, though from the look of things they were too familiar to be sisters.

'Bardock.' Ceripa's voice drew his gaze back to her. 'These types of days are so rare.' She frowned- a pinching, thin-lipped, almost pained expression that somehow imparted a little warmth to Bardock's heart. Her hand rested comfortably atop his. 'I miss you a lot when we're not together.'

For a long time Bardock had kept her at arm's reach from fear that Gine would appear just as his hand was moving towards hers. But time revealed certain truths. One such that the mother of his two kids only lived on in the faint reaches of his mind. And he had stopped listening to those whispers a long time ago.

He felt her pulse at her wrist. This was the hand that had killed the traitor. But it was calm, cool. 'It's not up to me.'

'You executed that man. How can you say you don't have any power?'

'Because I was the nearest person available.' Bardock stretched his fingers under her hand. 'You know just as well as I do that I'm responsible to the elders and their ways.'

'Then figure out a way to prolong this.' Ceripa pulled his hand to her heart. 'For us, at least.'

He gave a rueful little shake of his head. 'You're not satisfied with this?'

She picked at the few gray hairs sticking from his left temple. 'Not in the least.'

'Well...alright.' Bardock drew a breath. 'Maybe I can think of a reason.'

Focus crossed her face. 'Yeah?'

'Can you keep a secret?'

'Go on.'

Across seconds Bardock seemed to de-age decades; wrinkles thinning and gray hair darkening, as his head bent into the red glow of the bonfires and he flashed it: that mischievous smile of his. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen it. 'I've received a message from a very old friend. He's on the cusp of something great. And he needs two helpers to make sure it happens.'

'Don't say anything, don't do anything, don't so much as twitch while he's here. Just stand there and move when prodded.'

The air was hazy and muted green in the early day, wind ambling and exposed rock shining for all the world to see. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder at Landing Pad A, Cagoria and Sashe continued to eye the gray-blue sky, waiting for Dodoria's arrival. It would not be pleasant and she felt it necessary to remind Sashe of that.

'He was pissed when we called me.' Cagoria spat over her left shoulder. 'Training-level angry. So don't do anything.'

'Like a sponge?' Sashe asked.

'Like that, yes.' Her braided hair kept fidgeting against her neck. Or was she moving her head? She didn't know. 'Be that, and we'll be okay.'

'Sure.'

Sashe half-expected Cagoria to traipse across the platform, patrol its length or peer over railings as if there was anything to be seen in a bleary canyon down below. But her commander remained at her side, rigid… anxious? Did she want to talk? That was extremely unusual.

She'd take the chance. 'So what's going on?'

Cagoria angled her head in her direction. 'In reference to what?'

'Why Dodoria is coming here.' Sashe pointedly avoided Cagoria's gaze and continued to look forward. She might feel more comfortable if it seemed Sashe really wasn't speaking to her. 'What happened to Broly, too.'

'I've said enough already.'

'Without saying anything at all.'

On the periphery of Sashe's vision Cagoria made a tensed, searching expression at the sky. 'It's not my place, yet.'

'Yet?'

'Shut it. He's coming.'

And so he was: Sashe watched a pod wreathed in flaming atmosphere hurdle through the sky. Blue impulse built under it before the ship started to slow and angle gently in their direction.

Cagoria made a point of smoothing out her black armor and stone-gray cape as the wind battered against them and the landing pad shifted under their feet. But for her effort she looked impeccable in Sashe's eyes. Regardless of any doubt anyone had ever had for Cagoria's worthiness to lead, she had always looked and carried herself for the part.

That same presence manifested clear-as-day as the pod's door hissed and levered open. Pink hands gripped the pod's rim before a hulking, brawny, and round pink alien stood under the planet's sun. Spikes and plating covered him head-to-toe- natural armor- and fit awkwardly against the PTO officer's armor straining to circumvent him.

Ah, but he was powerful and in uniform. That was all that mattered.

Cagoria latched her hands behind her back. 'Commander Dodoria,' she said, half-bowing. 'As per your instructions I've met you here and dispatched the rest of my team to help do intake with Broly.'

Through slitted eyes- eyes utterly unconcerned with what Cagoria was saying- Dodoria stared at the base behind them and the wider rocky landscape of this world. 'This place is still a shithole.'

'Sir?'

'Come on,' Dodoria growled as he suddenly stomped past, armored protrusions nearly brushing against them. 'I want you to make the rounds. And get rid of your friend, too.'

Sashe watched the frown beginning to form on Cagoria's face. She absolved her of any command and took a pointed step to the landing pad's side. When Cagoria looked at her, she gave a quick, accommodating nod, and that seemed to be all the confirmation she needed before setting off after Dodoria.

Technicians she hadn't seen in days eventually filtered in to care for Dodoria's pod and Sashe felt the wind once more return to peace.

A loud braaang sounded on the metal platform like a drum being struck, thrumming into the air and making the ground rattle. Kakarot leaned forward and sighed into the pod. 'How many times are you going to drop this thing, Vegeta?'

'As many times as necessary!' Vegeta shouted back as he rubbed his hands together and cracked his knuckles. 'It's a sphere, after all- it should be difficult to carry!' He bent down and stretched his palms against the ship. 'Now stop slouching and help me!'

Kakarot rolled his eyes as he followed Vegeta's prodding and hefted the pod off the ground again. The thing wasn't that heavy but neither of them wanted to let the other carry the thing alone. Which didn't mean that Kakarot particularly cared about whether Vegeta proved his machismo or whatever by carrying it without his help. Moreso he knew the most annoying scenario for Vegeta involved him and Kakarot working together to move it. Throw in Vegeta's sore muscles from exercising earlier in the day, and he was being treated to a near-constant series of mutterings and curses as they slowly moved the pod across the landing pad. Vegeta would complain near constantly about not having the right grip.

It was easy for Kakarot to forget- when he was in the thick of getting under his skin, usually- how much space he occupied in Vegeta's head. If this was anyone else helping him, he probably wouldn't have made it a near constant performance of his strength and prowess.

Just another example of how much of a fool Vegeta was. Why appear strong when you could just be strong?

The pod once again slapped down onto metal. Unlike before, it drummed onto the platform and produced a hollow note in accord with it being empty. 'There,' Vegeta grunted. 'It's been moved. Now we can waste our time doing nothing.' He shot a look even as he crossed his arms and turned away. 'I'm sure you're thrilled, Kakarot.'

'I'll never understand your bit of thinking I'm lazy.'

'I think you're lazy because you are lazy!' Vegeta shouted over his shoulder. 'How else would you describe your behavior when you disappear from briefings and stuff yourself silly in the mess hall? You're a glutton!'

There was a time- very long ago- when Vegeta's prattling would have triggered some hesitation, even fear, in Kakarot's tread through life. But he had been taller than Vegeta for several years now and wise to how he barked when he should have bit. For all his groaning about Kakarot over the years, Vegeta had never had the courage to strike him when he was truly incensed. He could not be strong- only appear so.

So Kakarot sighed, and with a thin grin crossed to the other end of the landing pad and leaned his back on the railing. 'So how long do we wait?'

'How should I know?' Vegeta grumbled. 'Cagoria didn't give any instruction beyond clearing the landing pad.'

'Does that bother you?'

Vegeta tilted his head stubbornly into the air. 'If it does, you would never know it.'

Dear Frieza, he believes his own spiel, doesn't he? Kakarot closed his eyes with an easy smile and shook his head. 'Sure.'

'I hate you.'

Furtively Kakarot opened one eye. 'What was that?'

Vegeta continued to face away from him. 'I hate you and I want you to know that,' he elaborated.

'I already knew that.'

'Then I wanted to remind you of that.' Vegeta must have been at least halfway across the platform from him. He wasn't even looking his way. If he was trying to intimidate or threaten him, his heart clearly wasn't in it.

Such a sad troll. There were times that Kakarot felt pity for him, but those moments were rare and liable to be overpowered by the hilarity of watching a grown man flounder about in doing the most basic tasks. Kakarot still replayed the shower incident in his head from time to time. Seeing him drenched in water and oil, trying to squeeze past his pride to ask for just a smidgen of mechanical help-

'I wish I didn't hate you.'

'Hmm?' Kakarot emerged from his reverie and eyed Vegeta. 'Really?'

Vegeta turned to him, face stern as solid rock. 'I wish you didn't do so many things that I despise. I wish you were more proper. It is draining to have to live with you as you are now.'

'That so?' Legs crossed as Kakarot adjusted his body against the railing. 'So you're saying that if I stopped doing all the things you hate, what would happen?'

'I would tolerate you.'

'Hah!' Kakarot laughed. 'You would?'

Vegeta held his gaze for a moment. Black eyes regarded him before he turned away once more. 'Maybe not.'

'Thought so.'

They passed the remainder of their idle time in silence, each one taking up one half of the landing platform. Kakarot watched Vegeta stand stoic for a time before growing tired of his act and searching the clear skies instead. Eventually a reddish dot appeared, streaked with orange and yellow, hurtling towards them. Both moved closer to the base as the pod landed with some difficulty. Owing to its mottled, damaged appearance and the faltering blue impulse exhaust lining its bottom, it bounced hard against the landing pad and triggered the automatic momentum fields to prevent it from causing any major damage. The entire ship was halted, then released alongside a great wind dispelling its excess force.

Vegeta and Kakarot both advanced with arms shielding their eyes. The pod looked even worse up close- like someone had chopped and fried it for a half-eaten meal. The hatch door even appeared to be melted shut from the outside.

A long whistle. 'Talk about battle damage,' Kakarot commented.

'Uh-huh.' Vegeta tried to access the external control pad, but the display kept friscalating and shifting like an out-of-focus camera. 'Outer display is busted.'

'Shame.' Kakarot kicked the pod.

'Why the hell did you do that?'

Kakarot kicked the pod again. 'How else are we going to get it open?'

'With tools, idiot,' Vegeta snarled at him. 'The engineers have a special procedure for opening critically damaged pods, because if you don't-'

Kakarot kicked the pod a third time. Vegeta made it so easy. 'Don't care.'

'Kakarot!-'

But before Vegeta could finish his growling sentence the pod door hitched forward, snapping through the fused edges, and let out a fine cloud of mist. By habit Vegeta and Kakarot held their breath and stepped back from the sleep-inducing aerosol. Coincidentally this gave ample space for the pod's occupant to fall face-first onto the metal platform.

Face-first, splattering blood. The half of what they could see of Broly was mangled, gutted, twisted like some old rag, marked with discolorations and stains. A battle? Grievous injuries. Nothing they've never seen before. But it stuck, for some reason. That image. Near-death.

'Well…' Vegeta strode forward and roped one of Broly's arms around his shoulder. 'Help me, Kakarot.'

Without comment he did.

The base's halls were empty as Cagoria followed Dodoria lock-step. She had a good idea of what he was doing and why she was following, but as always with him, she didn't know the reason why. All she knew was that she was acting the good child as he wished.

'No mistests at all?' Dodoria's beady eyes roamed up and down the assembled line of pale-faced, locked-joint technicians.

'O-oh yes,' the lead flight technician, a shorter and oblong blue alien with a wide head, muttered. To his credit, he was sweating less than his people lined up beside him. 'No discrepancies at all. And that was after the second round of tests!'

'Uh huh.' Dodoria seemed less interested in speaking-face-to-face with the department head than with intimidating the grunts. His face kept moving between them, inducing fidgeting and squirming.

'You can check our logs, if you so desire, of course,' the lead technician added in an unsteady voice. 'Everything is-'

Dodoria cut him off with a subtle shift of his shoulders; like he was getting ready to smash something. 'Not interested.' He might have been angry, but then again, he always looked angry to Cagoria. 'Keep it handy, though.'

'T-that is all?'

Before the question had even finished Dodoria was walking off. 'Uh-huh.'

That was the third department head, flight coming after fueling and on-board medical, that had been questioned by Dodoria so far. Cagoria was reminded of how little of the base the techs had to themselves; space not used by the Vanguard for sleeping, eating, training or otherwise. She and Dodoria walked down narrow corridors not visited by someone with a power level over 50 since- well, she didn't know. Maybe Kakarot. He liked to wander, right?

But that was an insignificant concern right now. When she and Dodoria halted at a corner so that he could determine where the stasis department head was, Cagoria continued forward and faced him. 'I would like to know exactly what's going on.' She paused for effect. 'Considering that I need to keep up my authority over my team.'

Dodoria grunted and without so much as looking at her started walking again.

It was a well-trodden conversation between herself and the two direct superiors of the Vanguard. Dodoria and Zarbon have long heard her complain when not given the proper amount of forewarning and knowledge to maintain an edge of authority over her team. Growing up there had been two principles drilled into her as she worked to be the leader among her peers. At all times you needed to hold relative power. And that required holding more might or more information. Both made your team members come to you. Both entailed that servile relationship. Both created the ideal form of the relationship of a soldier to their superior.

And yet Zarbon and Dodoria- perhaps Zarbon less so- were never willing to give the latter or any, in their words, "unnecessary" knowledge. They claimed to keep her mind lean so as to serve them better. She could understand that as a subordinate. But as a leader of her own she needed an edge over the others. Her relative strength was difficult to maintain- and, in recent years, may have been eclipsed in certain circumstances by certain team members- yet no other person at this base had as much of a connection to the true mind behind the PTO as her. No one else could claim to know Zarbon as well as her. He treated her fairly; perhaps more importantly, she knew him and his quirks well enough to deduce what she needed to know from the gaps in his answers.

But Dodoria never gave her anything he didn't choose to give. He was always prickly and armored. Always.

'That's it?' She prodded.

'I'll tell you soon.' He rolled one of his shoulders. 'Be satisfied with that.'

The glass of the tube was cold and white with condensed water and refracted light. With one hand Sashe cleared away a swath of its surface and peered inside. Beyond bubbling air and swirling liquid, it was him. There was a cross-shaped scar on his left pec she didn't remember, but otherwise he looked the same. The same mangy black hair and seemingly always dour and at-rest face.

And in stark difference to how he nearly always looked when awake, he seemed at peace unconscious.

It was harder to see his wounds, half-healed as they were, but they were present- deep cuts, clotted lines, and torn and charred flesh. It looked as if someone had thrown him through a star. Someone may have thrown him through one for all she knew. No information had yet been given to them, and Cagoria was unusually tight-lipped. All they knew is that Broly was seriously injured.

If she was more concerned about her strength, she might have taken this as an ominous sign- that the likely strongest among their team was reduced to this. But she knew where she stood among her peers better than them and didn't need to be mightier than Broly to feel assured. If anything, Broly's greater strength had been used to his detriment. He fought in more battles farther from home and for longer periods of time. He conquered planets single-handedly as per the orders given to them. He was pushed harder than all of them combined. And he had the scars to show it.

Sashe closed her eyes and pressed her head against the glass. Was he sleeping? Dreaming?... Is he really as peaceful as he looks?...

'Sashe?'

She pulled away from the glass- behind her, in the med bay's entrance, Vegeta stood silhouetted by the hallway's light with a metal canister tucked under his right arm. They stared at each other for a moment. 'So it is you,' he said as he strode into the room. 'Hard to tell from a distance.'

'Who else could it have been?' She turned. 'Who else has flat black hair?'

'Kakarot on a bad hair day,' Vegeta snarked, smiling, pausing to emphasize he was making a joke. Sashe's muted expression disheartened him, however, and his face fell to the floor as he finished crossing the room. 'In any event,' he resumed while placing the metal canister on the ground, 'why are you here?'

Sashe noted how he was slow to straighten and face her. 'How long has it been since we've last seen Broly? A year?' She glanced at his restoration tank. Bubbles flitted past his face and the mask strapped to his mouth and nose. 'He's changed since then. He has a new scar.'

There was a shuffling to her right- Vegeta was now sitting on the canister he had lugged into the room. 'I hardly consider that a noteworthy change. I've accrued my fair share of scars in that time, as have you, I'm sure.'

She stared at his knotted hands. 'Maybe.' Her eyes flicked to his. 'What you'd bring in here? What's in the canister?'

'This?' Vegeta patted his seat. 'I'm dropping this off. In it is a few things taken from his room- or what was in there before it was emptied out a few months ago.'

'Oh?' Sashe blinked at him. Right. They had emptied his room, saying that it was a bad use of space considering how much time he spent away from base on missions. Who had given that command? Zarbon? Dodoria?

'Cagoria reminded me where I had put it while she was barking at me earlier,' Vegeta said. 'I forgot she gave me the order to empty his room in the first place.'

Oh. Right.

The gentle thrum of Broly's tank melded together with the breathing of the station's vents above them.

'You don't have any idea what happened to him,' Sashe asked, 'do you?'

Vegeta's eyes were glued to the floor. 'No.'

'I see.' She struggled to dismiss a thought. 'Are… are you waiting for something?'

'Not really. Just sitting.'

'... I see.' Sashe had a fairly simple read of Vegeta, at least compared to the others. As the oldest of them all he carried a lot more with him wherever he went but showed none of it. She knew he had caused some of the scars present today on Broly's body. But as for why he was here? She had no idea. But he was brooding, still. And he could be so soul-suckingly morose when in that kind of mood.

'You know,' Vegeta began, talking at the floor. 'Before he left-'

'I'll leave you alone, Vegeta,' Sashe cut him off, striding away from Broly's tank. 'You look like you need a moment.'

Vegeta's head lifted; but when he went to say something he sighed before he could speak and dipped his head again. 'Alright.'

She felt a little cruel as she exited the room and gleaned the anxious expressions of some medical techs waiting to enter Broly's room after she and Vegeta had both left. But then again, neither him or her was anything new to them.

Minutes-long silence, resting on them as comfortably as someone lounging on a huge and fluffy pillow, was broken as Kakarot stood and stretched. 'Well, that was fun.'

Cagoria turned over onto her other side and peered at him from the bed's other side. 'You sound thrilled.'

He fell back down after a few pulls of his arms. 'I'm distracted mostly. A little tense, too.'

'I noticed.'

Kakarot snorted. 'Yeah, wonder why.'

'Huh?'

Suddenly he shifted and laid on his side, facing her. 'Forget that. Let me ask you what I'm sure everyone else has already asked- what's going on? What happened to Broly? Why is Dodoria here?'

Cagoria sighed and spun her eyes to a corner of her room's ceiling. 'You too, huh?'

'You have to admit,' Kakarot said, playfully laying his head on a pillow, 'it's quite a mystery.'

'To you, maybe.'

'Come onnnn!' He balanced his head on his hands like some overeager kid. 'Just tell me!

A tight expression swept over Cagoria's face. 'Dodoria will be telling everyone later. Just wait until then.'

'But I don't want some fat, sour-smelling alien to tell me.' Kakarot's mischievous look swept over her. 'I want you to.'

He had a strange way of flattering her. Cagoria felt her cheeks warm as she turned away from him and smiled at the wall. 'Nice try, but nope.'

'Really?' Kakarot's voice retained some levity, but as the seconds passed and Cagoria didn't turn back to him, his playful pose slackened. '...Really?' he repeated.

'No can do, my love,' Cagoria enthused, falling into their game. She rolled again to face him. 'For if I did that-hey, where are you going?'

In jerky motions Kakarot yanked his jumpsuit up his body. Muscled shoulder blades were zipped up and covered by elastic black. 'You're always like this,' he said, voice bordering on complaining.

Cagoria sat up and looked at him. 'Like what?'

'Like… this!' Kakarot said, flailing his hands towards her. 'So… distant. But not in a good way.'

Cagoria squinted at him. 'There's a good way to be distant?'

'Maybe!' Kakarot exclaimed before bending and grabbing his armor. He threw it over his head and shoved his arms through. 'Others might use that distance to protect themselves, I don't know- but you use it to put yourself above us!'

She looked past him at the room's door. Kakarot was inching towards it. 'Nonsense,' she replied, glancing back at him with a stern look. 'That's nonsense.'

'Is it?' He returned her gaze just as sternly. 'Because keeping us in the loop about what's going on would help yourself, you know.' He patted his armor to make sure it was in place and sat on the bed's edge to pull on his boots. 'Zarbon and Dodoria both treat us like tools to be used, with the only difference being that Zarbon treats us like scalpels and Dodoria treats us like hammers.' His boots clacked against the metal floor as he stood and turned to her. 'And sometimes the people who wield us don't have our personal wellbeing in mind.' He paused as his gaze lingered on her. 'Yours included.'

'What?'

'I'm hungry.' Kakarot grabbed his last item- his scouter laying on her nightstand. 'So I'm going to go eat so that I'm shocked with a full stomach.' The room's door hissed open. 'Seeya around.'

Sheets bunched around her body as her legs crossed and shifted for a few seconds after he had left. A bough of her hair had fallen across her face. 'What was that about?...'

She walked the line: Vegeta, Kakarot, and Sashe each gave her a taut nod of their head before straightening in their armor and staring ahead. Everyone else- the one hundred-odd base personnel who kept this place running- was already rigid as poles behind her team, not daring to do so much as breathe if it made them stand out. The reception hall was just large enough to pack every living person on this planet except one into this room. That last, instead, held the small platform at the room's narrowest point, cursing as he grappled with a standing mic.

Dodoria had let a day go by without explaining why he was here to make them stew. It was a common practice among the higher-ups of the PTO to let the grunts unnerve themselves until they clammed up and started saying or doing what was wanted of them- true or not.

Cagoria only wished she wasn't on the same side as the grunts. One entire day had passed and she had been told nothing.

'This on?' Dodoria growled into the mic. He caught his voice echoing back across the room. 'Well… good.' He gripped his arm and adjusted how his bulk pressed against it. 'I'm sure you're all very interested to know why I'm here. It's been at least five years since I've been to this backwater place,' he grumbled, 'and I wished it could have been at least five more. But something bad happened.'

His beady eyes searched through the crowd. Nervous faces looked away. 'One of the Vanguard's own, Broly, nearly died out there. Not usually something we should usually be worried about- but it's the way he almost died that makes this place stink.'

Cagoria flinched as Dodoria's gaze passed over them and spent a precious second examining each member of her team. 'So I'll come out and say it. Without warning Broly's pod lost all power en route to a new planet. And his ship's life support system hasn't been serviced since leaving this base four months ago. So you know what that means?'

The tension in the room seemed to suffocate the vents' breathing above them. Dodoria's gaze landed on Cagoria.

'Someone at this base sabotaged Broly's pod. Someone here is a traitor.'

A/N: Another chapter! This time an entire year didn't pass. Going forward I might try and update this fic once a month. It's not super difficult to write (not as long as my other one), at the very least.

Reviews:

NarupokeeAurorafan: Glad you enjoyed the chapter! Hope you enjoy this one too :^)

Guest: Yep, Kakarot kinda is a troll! Vegeta makes it easy.