The large glass of kelga bubbled slightly on Laswe's desk. For hours now, he had been staring at his hands. He knew it was just a side-effect of the kelga, but he swore he could see blood on them. Things were still chaotic in the fleet after the events of yesterday, but his office had been cold and silent ever since the axe had come down. And from that moment, he'd been in a daze, just trying to comprehend it all.
How had it happened? How in the matter of a few hours had he gone from a stalwart defender of justice to a murderer? And why…did it all feel so unreal?
Jumbled pieces floating around in his mind – a horror story that should never have been told – when had it began?
The holding cell, yes.
"We shouldn't be here," Horkion had said. He'd actually said that, right before it all began. Like he somehow knew what was coming. Maybe he should have listened.
And Vegeta. He'd been so cold and stoic the entire time. The only reaction he'd seen out of him was the contemptuous sneer that had crossed his face the moment they'd walked in. His eyes had never left Nevrrest once and her own gaze had a strange glimmer to them beneath the disgust.
"It's…confirmed," Dr. Leaton wavered as he finished scanning the prisoner, "The contents of his stomach are…as you suspected."
No one had even ever named what that suspicion was – they all just accepted it silently. It blurred from there. Probably because he'd been so angry. He couldn't believe Vegeta had done something so stupid – this completely messed up his plan about giving him bail. But he had no idea at the time just how crooked this turn would become.
Now that he thought about it, the events of the cell were the least of it. Very little had even been said in there. It was all just a big atrocity of Vegeta's cold indifference and Nevrrest bearing over him with hate in her eyes. He should have known. He should have seen it coming. But no, he was all too quick to decide that Nevrrest had regained herself, that he could trust her, that he could depend on her like he always had.
He was wrong. He was so…very…wrong…
It was in the hall that it really went down. They left Vegeta locked in the holding cell. Laswe had drifted out holding himself, his mind racing with what to do now. Honestly, after all that Vegeta had done, he just wanted to forgive this slight. Just sweep it away. Nevrrest deserved that after her emotional slip-up. Vegeta had endured the same stress and had clearly also broken under it. If only he could. But the computer was back online with all the security measures. Everything was being recorded and cataloged at hyper speed. Keeping it quiet had been a simple thing before. But now the whole thing was bleeding out at the open.
Not long after thinking this he also found himself considering how trivial the matter was in the grand scheme of things. Oom'Bagu and Goku's insurrection was a much more important topic. And he was horrified to realize how little time they'd spent on the subject. He hadn't even bothered to find out where they were being held. Looking back, Nevrrest had a way with that – of making you forget what was really important. She knew when to go about it too. A good example was that moment, when no one had slept for the last twenty-four hours.
Laswe had noticed Nevrrest and Horkion talking, but he hadn't been paying attention. He was too wrapped up in puzzling and mulling over all the problems at hand. Oom'Bagu had done something stupid. Oom'Bagu never did anything stupid. And Goku. Guy comes back from the dead – or not being dead, whatever – and the first thing he does it is try to take the situation into his own hands and messed stuff up worse. Laswe hadn't known Goku very long, so he couldn't say whether it was accurate to his character or not.
The situation was tense, that was for certain. But as he stood there deep in thought, everything, in its own funny way felt like it had all gotten back to normal. Nobody was losing their minds. Everyone was back where they belonged.
That was until Horkion punched Nevrrest in the gut.
It wasn't even a sloppy, emotional punch. It was expertly delivered, his whole body put into it, Nevrrest buckled but enduring. Laswe could see what looked like sand crumbling off his stony flesh.
Nevrrest coughed a tiny bit and glared mildly at him. "Control yourself, Justiciar Horkion."
"What's going on?!" Laswe immediately and irritably demanded. But his tone wasn't without anxiety as well. He'd never seen Horkion do something like that before.
Horkion's insides were groaning, like boulders being rubbed together. "No, shut up!" he shouted, shaking, his fist still held up into her stomach, "I won't hear it anymore! You're wicked and dishonorable!"
The marshals had started to form a half circle behind him. And the guards were forming a half circle behind them, each looking at the one directly ahead of them, waiting. Laswe stared. Was he seeing this?
Nevrrest grabbed Horkion's wrist and pushed it away, straightening up. "Wicked and dishonorable? Now, is that any way to talk to your friend?"
"I don't know who you are anymore, but you're not my friend!" Horkion shouted up at her, crouched in a battle stance, "You're vile and selfish! I should never have agreed to protect you!"
Nevrrest gave the gathered guards a sympathetic look, as if apologizing for their leader's behavior. "Horkion, this has been a hard day for all of us. Even I needed a rest to gather myself. Perhaps you should take some time to clear your thoughts—"
"I don't need time to clear my thoughts!" he shouted over top of her, driving Laswe further into shock. More sand pittered onto the floor as he shook his head. "Not about this. I don't need much to see what you're planning to know it's cowardly and…and just plain evil!"
Nevrrest's eyes darkened – or was it just that they became darker? Looking back, Laswe remembered she had a dark look about her eyes since the moment she had come to tell them the news about Oom'Bagu and Goku. It was like sheer nightmare had been inked around her gaze. "You would call my plan to protect the galaxy cowardly and evil?" she challenged.
Damn Nevrrest. The way she spoke – it had been such a big part of what happened the following day. Whenever anyone thought of Nevrrest, one word always came to mind: powerful. The common person thought that power was simply in her ability to fight, but Laswe knew now better than ever it was so much more than that. Nevrrest was the embodiment of strength. She could have a mental breakdown and come back sounding more sure of herself than ever. She could speak in such a way that made you want to listen, that made the most twisted ideas make sense.
Poor Horkion…he'd never stood a chance.
Horkion stood there, his wide jaw grinding as he struggled to form an answer. "I…I don't care what you want to call it! I won't do it! And neither will Laswe!"
Laswe tried to say something intelligent to that declaration, but between the shock and exhaustion all that came out was something like, "Agh-uwa…"
"Oh?" Nevrrest scowled, folding her arms, "And do you have a better idea…little rock man?"
Horkion's body creaked, glancing over his shoulder at the semi-circle of marshals as guards behind him. He pushed the marshals out of his way. The guards simply moved aside for him. "…Yeah," he gave his deadly answer, "I'm going to ask the computer where Oom'Bagu and Goku are being held and ask their opinion of your plan. Maybe they had the right idea."
Laswe tried to freeze that moment in his mind, but the kelga wasn't helping. If only he could, he would take that glimpse of Nevrrest's face in that moment and zoom up on it, study it for hours. He remembered seeing the expected rage light up in her expression, but there was something else as well. Excitement? Expectation? Universe forbid…joy?
It didn't matter, though, cause there was no way Laswe could recall. Letting the memory run on in his mind, he considered his own horror at how though Horkion had turned to catch the blow from Nevrrest's fist, it had still send him sprawling like a bowling ball down the hall, hot sparks flying as his stony fingers latched onto the floor, slowing him into a battle stance.
"Traitor!" Nevrrest declared, "So you would commit insurrection against me as well?! Fine! You shall also be dealt with!"
And in response, Horkion screamed the worst thing he could have possibly said, "Bring it on!"
Laswe had always had a reputation among the fleet. Of all the justiciars, he had been considered the boldest. He was the one to take action. He was the one willing to say things the others didn't. He was proud and assertive. That was Laswe. But in that moment, all he could do was stare in horror as Horkion and Nevrrest charged at each other. The marshals took up their leader's shadow and stormed at Horkion as well, full of battle zeal. But they didn't make it, instead colliding with a wall of guards who gave up a battle cry in defense of their leader. In that hallway, it became all-out civil war.
Laswe was momentarily broken from his thoughts as the empty glass of kelga slipped from his hand, rolling and tumbling off the edge of his desk. He cursed and looked at the glittering bottle, the delusional blood dripping off his hands now and onto the table. He shouldn't be drinking this much. But after what he'd done, he didn't care. He reached for the elegant bottle and took the glass cork from it, taking a sip from it as the ghostly figure of his father wandered across his office.
Another hallucination from the kelga. It was appropriate though, because it was something his father once said to him that ran through his mind back in that moment when Horkion and Nevrrest clashed.
He relived that scene now, seeing it like a puppet show before him. King Tamaru of the Ponachi Moons entered the room, watching with patience as two nymphs – his sons Inochi and Laswe – smacked and clawed at each other on the floor. Later, Laswe sat sulking and bruised on the steps of his father's regal throne, waiting to be scolded.
But instead, King Tamaru just folded his arms over his ornate scepter, looking ahead as though he were trying to read the fates in the palace walls. "A day comes when a youth must be told the meaning of his name," he told the little nymph, "I have never told one of my children of his namesake so young. But I feel it is time."
Oh, why couldn't this have been yesterday rather than those horrible events? Laswe remembered how his glossy nymph eyes had lit up with excitement, his tiny, undeveloped wings giving a buzz. "Oh ya! What is it?" he eager asked, "Mighty? Clever? Fierce?"
Tamaru seemed amused by these childish hopes. "Binding."
"Binding?" the little one made a face, "You mean like ropes?"
"Like the paste between the bricks of a shining temple," answered the king, pleased as always with his gift with words, "Like the glue that holds the gems that make up the mosaic of our history." He shifted his scepter between his hands. "Laswe, you are the child of my old age – born of my wisdom. And though you will always be subservient to your brothers, you have great power over them as well."
"Yeah, like always getting told what to do," he grumbled, folding his arms, "Yeah, really powerful, Dad."
The nymph squeaked as King Tamaru whacked his scepter over his head. "Pay attention!" he demanded, "To be named Laswe is a powerful thing. Without binding, everything crumbles. Even kingdoms may fall." The child rubbed at his head but did, in fact, listen well that day. Especially as a low glint entered his father's eye and he looked to the palace walls again. "Laswe, you must promise me something. It is inevitable that you and your brothers will be rivals. That is your nature, as it has always been in our family. But no matter what happens, you must see to it that you and your brothers never fight each other. That is your destiny."
"But…all we do is fight," he pointed out.
"You challenge each other's strength, and in that the family grows stronger," the king corrected, "You do not know true animosity. It is the greatest enemy – turning love into hate and allies into bitter foes. Many times our dynasty has faced it and overcome. But with each new generation returns this threat." Then the king did something that surprised the little nymph – he hovered out of his throne and sat on the steps next to him, putting a hand to his back. "My son, you are the last child I will ever have. Your young eyes will never be as clouded by petty concerns as others will. You are Binding. And we are the Unbroken." He held up a fist. "Family. Unity. Strength. That is the way of our people. Be the force that holds all that is precious together. That is the only task I expect of you."
Perhaps, as that hallway of the Hammer became a miniature warzone – with fists flying and waves of energy burning – the memory did not come to him in such detail as it did now, but Laswe knew it had been present with him. Unity. Strength. Family. The warriors of the Justice in many ways were a family. And they were being torn apart right before Laswe's eyes. He couldn't bear it. He was Binding. That made it his job to stop it.
At first, he could only shout useless things over the din like "Nevrrest! Horkion! You stupid assholes, cut it out!"
It didn't work. Nevrrest shrieked as she dung her talons into the grooves of Horkion's back, her other hand upheld. Horkion's legs were braced under him in such beautiful form, ready to counter. But he wasn't half as fast as she was. "If you will not cooperate, you will be taken out of play!"
Laswe hadn't been ready for that moment. As terrible as what was happening was, he wasn't ready for Horkion's cry of agony as Nevrrest's talons swiped through his arm. The moment was frozen in his memory in slow-motion, the stony limb tumbling through the air, bouncing across the floor and dissolving into a yellow, crystallized slush – the same yellow slush dripped from Horkion's now empty arm socket. The two sides of the hallway war frozen, staring as Nevrrest sunk her talons into his chest and lifted him up.
"H…Horkion…!" the memory of Laswe's own desperate voice echoed in his mind.
It didn't take a genius to see he was in an incredible amount of pain, his warrior brow stern and brave, but his body trembling with the shock of the loss of limb. The seconds of silence broke and an outraged cry rose up over the guards, charging at Nevrrest. But in their moment of brokenness the marshals pounded them, energy flashing and bodies flying, grunting as they slammed against walls. Horkion gripped Nevrrest's arm as she held up in the air with his remaining hand. She raised a fan of glimmering talons.
"NO STOP!" Laswe remembered how distant his own voice had sounded as he screamed that, buzzing with terror and rage, "He's not a traitor!" He flew forward, hovering at Nevrrest's height and looking her dead in the eye. "Whatever it is you need. We'll work with you! Just…just stop! Can't you see you're killing him?!"
Another moment Laswe wished he could somehow pause in his mind. The rage melted from her face and she looked ashamed; sorry. But as he thought about it, he could swear there was something behind it as well. The way her talons had twitched, like she excitement she always got right before battle. But he hadn't cared about that then. All he wanted was to save the Justice from being torn apart…and to save Horkion.
"You promise me, Laswe?" she sternly asked, "You'll do whatever's necessary to help me save this fleet?"
"Yes, goddamn it!" he snapped, "Now just PUT HIM DOWN!"
"Is that really what I did?" Laswe said to himself, tipping the crystal bottle about, "Did I really…goddamn it…did I really cave in just like that?"
Things were fuzzy with the amount of alcohol in him now, but he was certain it had happened just like that. He, Laswe – stubborn, blunt, and bold – had become willing to do anything stop what was happening. Without even asking what it was she wanted, he had pledged himself to satisfy her. He could blame it on being exhausted, maybe emotionally compromised himself. But no excuse would forgive him.
Nevrrest had put Horkion down gently, offering assurances that they were survive this and threatening anyone who would dare commit insurrection. Laswe had barely heard her. He hadn't even cared that she just walked off, leaving Horkion bleeding like that. Honestly? He'd been grateful she was gone. His memory blurred with his frantic squawking as he had fussed over his friend.
"Oh my God, Horkion, your arm! She took your arm clean off! You idiot, she nearly killed you, you hard-headed fool! What did you think you were doing?!"
Horkion only looked at him peacefully – in pain and weak – but so incredibly calm and content in some strange way. "Yeah, I know, Laswe. Heh, I never did have much brains. I guess that's the difference between you and me. I don't know how to do what's smart. I just know how to do what's right."
Horkion's simplicity. It had always pissed him off to no end. But in a situation that was more complicated than one of Sepis's inventions, it had shone so brightly. Cause looking back, Laswe realized something – that while all the justiciars had trained as warriors, Horkion alone had been raised to be a hero.
"Don't worry, it'll grow back," Horkion sighed, holding his hand to his arm socket to stay the bleeding, "Eventually anyways."
"Did she know that?" Laswe angrily demanded.
Horkion shrugged. "I don't really know. Maybe? Maybe she didn't care. She's not who she was anymore, Laswe. She's evil."
And Laswe had laughed at that idea. "Oh come on."
"I know you can see it too!" he protested, "She's like a different person! I know you can see it. That's why you bluffed for me, right?"
He told him he had no idea what he was talking about. Which he hadn't at the time. Not the slightest clue. Or he wouldn't have been laughing.
He remembered how Horkion had looked at him like he'd just grown a second head and, looking back, he couldn't blame him. It was crazy, how he had agreed to Nevrrest's plan to 'save the fleet' without even know or asking what it was. He'd been that sleep-deprived. He'd been that desperate. He'd been that stupid. He'd been that selfish.
"I don't care if it does save the fleet," Horkion rumbled, grinding his jaws, "It's too horrible, twisted, and wrong. It was bad enough that we had to cover up her mass-executing prisoners. But this?" He shook his head. "No. I'd rather die."
"Hold on, hold on, HOLD ON!" Laswe anxiously piped, "Stop that talk! Nobody's dying and we're going to save the fleet. Eh? Now, tell me what this 'horrible' plan of hers is."
Horkion gave him a long, hard look, like he didn't even want to say it. "...She's going to scapegoat this entire thing on Vegeta."
"…What?" he asked stupidly.
"Says she's got it all planned," Horkion angrily explained, "Witnesses to back it up and everything—"
"Wait, what?!" Laswe interrupted, "What the hell are you even talking about?"
The idea at the time seemed too ridiculous. Laughable. Impossible. Even for Nevrrest, who had hated Vegeta all her life. It didn't seem like something she'd ever do. And on top of that, at first mention, it seemed impossible to pull off. But apparently Nevrrest's brain had gone into overtime. A dark, vicious overtime.
"She told me everything," Horkion grimly answered, the blood in his arm socket starting to congeal, "She wants the public and the fleet to be told that Vegeta and Un instrumentally planned Vegeta's arrest so she could use the distraction to murder Nettelish and make her move. That the whole thing was so Un and Vegeta could take over together. She wants it to be said that Hameus was the one who fought Un and saved the fleet, heroically dying with Un. That Vegeta was recaptured in the end and for his actions executed."
Yes, that was it. The moment Laswe sold his soul to the Devil. Because as unbelievable and horrific it was…in the darkness of his mind he lit with the hope that the plan would work. It was like Nevrrest's talons had reached into his brain and took hold of his desperation; played with his terror of losing what they had worked so hard to build. But at the same time, a complete revulsion rose up inside him and since that moment, he burned with self hate.
So many things he could have said. Expressed his anger, given outcries of how crazy Nevrrest clearly was. But instead, all he could dumbly say was, "...We're going to lose the fleet."
Horkion only had one hand left. But he grabbed Laswe's with it all the same. "No!" he firmly declared, that simple, honest light in his black pebble eyes, "We'll fight for it. Together! Please, Laswe?"
Had he said yes? Yes, he was pretty sure he had. In some form at least, numbly and lost. If Horkion had noticed what was going on in Laswe's mind at the time, he hadn't given any sign of it. He'd happily and bravely pronounced that when the moment came for the execution, they'd stand up to Nevrrest together in front of the entire fleet. That they'd burn so bright with the ideals of right that that would somehow magically make things better.
Still…he'd been filled with nothing but disgust and shivering rage when hours later, Nevrrest had come to see him.
"You broke his goddamn arm off, you bitch," Laswe hissed, his wings vibrating angrily behind him.
Nevrrest's stood at his back, cold and radiating with power. "He tried to conspire with traitors."
"And you're a loose cannon!"
"I am the only hope you have of not being forced go crawling back to your father in disgrace."
Nail on the head every goddamn time. How masterfully she had crafted the whole thing, completely without pity or shame. But still, in that conversation, he had been able to muster up the courage to say one thing.
"He saved your life," Laswe told her through narrowed slits, his vision blurred with exhaustion, "He saved all our lives."
To this, she shrugged. "Fine then. Let him save us once more. Then, we can all rest at ease that he's enjoying his eternal reward in Other World. And our cause will live on."
"Maybe in everyone else's hearts," Laswe admitted, "But not ours. In ourselves? We'll have killed our own cause. And damned ourselves in the process."
And she smiled, knowingly. "Then what is your decision?"
Laswe shuddered as the door to his office suddenly opened, dropping the bottle into a drawer and out of sight. "You ever heard of knocking?!" he shouted.
"Sorry, sir. I couldn't bring myself to 'ask' to come in."
He managed to sit up straight enough to behold the guard who had just entered unannounced. He was a medium sized man with dark skin and a tuff of fluffy orange hair atop his head.
Laswe sized him up and tried to blink back his drunkenness. "What can I do for you, guardian?"
"Just listen," the man answered stiffly, "I won't take long. I can't imagine you'd want to hear much of what I have to say anyways." Laswe blinked, concentrating as the man looked right at him. "My name is Juri-dur. I was one of the guards stationed on the Hammer when the attack happened." His gaze drifted down for a fraction of a second. "I nearly died in that battle. But someone saved me. They moved so fast I couldn't even see who or what it was."
Laswe slowly nodded. "Well…we're all glad you made it."
Juri-dur curled in his bottom lip and shook his head, his brow lowered. "You shouldn't be." He leaned forward, pressing his fingertips to the desk. "Cause someone later that day told me the truth. The truth that you covered up. I know who it was that saved my life." His eyes were like coals. "And you killed him."
The alcohol in his brain spun.
"Alright," he had answered with disgust, "I'll do it. And I'll make sure Horkion isn't a problem. But I want you to know one thing, Nevrrest…" He turned and spat. "I've lost all respect for you."
"I…think you…" Laswe tried to get out.
"Do you understand what I'm saying?" Juri-dur demanded, "I know what really happened."
Laswe's mind flashed.
Before anything else, Laswe had gone to talk to Horkion again. The execution, as Nevrrest had arranged it, was supposed to take place in the morning after the public broadcast – their lie mixed in with details such as the names of the honored dead and that Justiciar Oom'Bagu and an unnamed associate were under investigation. Despite having not slept in over a day and being utterly exhausted, Laswe hadn't been able to sleep that night. He was terrified for Horkion.
Luckily, Minarites only sleep once a month and Horkion wasn't difficult to find. Even with the loss of his arm, nothing kept Horkion from his night-cycle training sessions. Laswe watched him not without a twinge of jealousy as he moved precisely across the training floor, taking out attack bots. Down to just one arm and his raw movements were still better than Laswe's were at the best of times. He spun and pivoted, hitting the deactivation button before Laswe had a chance to speak.
"I'm healing, but you're not sleeping," he rumbled and looked at him sympathetically – a look that still burned him with deep guilt inside, "She really hurt you, didn't she?"
"She hurt me?" he returned, angered by his disregard for his own welfare. Why? Why did Horkion always have to be so selfless?
"I understand why you're here," Horkion nodded, undaunted, his tiny eyes soft and sweet, "I know how scared you must be." His fist tightened. "I'm scared too."
But he hadn't been there for the reason Horkion thought. He'd come because he knew what he was about to do to Horkion was terrible. He had the desperate hope that it could be avoided somehow. Maybe he'd change his mind. Maybe Horkion in some small way would tell him it was okay.
"You know…Nevrrest," he began, "No matter how…'evil' she might be or not be. No matter how crazy she becomes…it's gonna get better."
At that, Horkion had chuckled, activating clean-up of the bots he'd destroyed. "Things don't just 'get' better on their own, Laswe. If my old masters back home managed to drive anything into my head…that was it for sure."
"And when did you turn into Mr. Wise-guy?!" he had yelled far more angrily than he meant.
But Horkion had been undaunted. "I'm not," he assured. He looked down. "It's just…I realized that a dark time like this was exactly what I was trained to face. It awaked something in me the moment Nevrrest told me her plan. And I realized…that I have to fight it."
Laswe's wings buzzed violently. "You were trained to fight Frieza…not Nevrrest! Frieza was a tyrant and a monster; Nevrrest's the hero that brought down the PTO!"
"I know," he simple answered, "But that just makes it more painful and difficult to do – not any less right." He rubbed at his empty stump.
"Listen, if this is about your arm, I can't say I blame you," Laswe snapped, "If you don't want to be friends with her anymore, fine, I'm with you on that. But…" His whole body had shook – shook so hard he was amazed he hadn't disrupted his organs and passed out. "But you can't fight Nevrrest!"
"I know I can't alone," he assured, "That's why I need you with me, Laswe."
"No!" he shouted, "I don't care what happens to Nevrrest or anyone else! But…but…" He's eyes snapped shut. "But I refuse to abrogate The Justice!"
At first, Horkion had only stared at him, taken aback. But then he had smiled softly, tenderly, in a way that only the dearest of old friends could – knowing and loving what you are. "I bet your father sounded just like that back then."
"Say what?" he demanded.
"In that story you used to tell all the time." He looked off and raised his single hand into the air in a motion of command. "I will not relinquish the Moons! This is our home and we shall not abandon it!" He rubbed at his head sheepishly. "I heard you tell the story of that day so many times back when we were traveling…but I doubt you ever sounded more like he did then as you did just now."
"So?!" he demanded, even angrier now, "What's your point?! Do you even have a point?!"
Horkion winced slightly and looked down. He was silent for a long moment, but when he spoke it was a powerful solemnity that made the helpless rage in Laswe still. "No one…has ever really understood me. Especially as a justiciar. When I'm with the rest of you, I usually don't say much. And when I do, I usually just agree with whatever's being decided." He looked at Laswe and gave a little shrug. "You were taught to fight by Nevrrest and Oom'Bagu. My old masters? They taught me to yield."
"To yield?" Laswe absolutely scowled at the idea.
Horkion nodded. "They told me that with the strength in my blood fighting would come natural to me. It would be an automatic drive, my instinct, my natural reaction to any problem I faced." He gave a sad little smile that Laswe had yet to figure out even now. "But to defeat Frieza, to become the guardian I was meant to be, I had to learn to yield – to give up fate to other hands. To trust in good."
"…I still don't see what you're saying," Laswe accused.
"I know you're here cause you're scared about what will happen after tomorrow morning," Horkion answered, touching his shoulder again, "And you're right to, cause what we made is falling apart. But maybe that's good. Maybe, it's time we yield to a better way."
So it came to be as Laswe supposed it was destined to – if there is such a thing. Laswe left Horkion to his faith and kept the future to himself. He was pretty sure he tried to get some sleep after that, but it hadn't work. He'd just laid there, agonizing in his own exhaustion and guilt. When the morning came the announcement was released across the waves just as promised. And Prince Vegeta was summoned from his cell.
He remembered it so clearly. It was so soon after the battle with Un that Vegeta still had some bandages on him, a horrible testament the crime being committed. They'd never even gotten around to shackling him properly – no collar, wrist clamps, no chains – just the electric binds the marshals had lashed around him and the dampener on his tail. He had been certain with the wrong being committed against him that Vegeta would try to lash out, or at least scream and rage. But no. He had been completely silent; stern, cold, and unreadable.
Though, Laswe had barely looked at him. How could he? Goku had once claimed that he and this man were a lot alike. He'd even made it sound like they could be friends. And now he was sacrificing him – forcing him to pay the price for sins he didn't commit. This was an unforgivable act.
Oh Horkion. He had been calm and confident. He thought what awaited him was a battle. Not…not what happened.
One would think with the execution of such an infamous criminal there would have been all kinds of pomp involved. But no. It was such a quiet affair, involving only Laswe, Nevrrest, Horkion, and a small group of marshals. Though…there had been a strange interruption at one point. Some elderly, green doctor Laswe vaguely recognized had come charging up and spoken with Nevrrest, wildly waving a datapad around. He hadn't been able to make out anything that was said, but it had ended with the doctor being forcibly escorted away by several marshals.
He wondered…why had that doctor been there and what had he told Nevrrest?
Beyond that, it was the most uneventful execution procession he'd ever been involved in. But that made it the complete foil of what actually happened in the execution chamber. The events that had happened in there had been perplexing and confusing Laswe since those very moments. So many things that had made so little sense…
He remembered standing in the chamber's control and observation room with Horkion and Nevrrest – a pale, lifeless room with a large viewing screen and a panel of six round, red buttons. But unlike the times before, only three of them were lit. All the marshals had gone, this was a dark affair only Justiciars sullied themselves in. Vegeta was released from the binds and locked in the hallway that he was meant to walk to his death.
Only, little did he or any other prisoner before him know that the long, lit hall wasn't the last walk before the end of the line. It was the end itself. When they had all decided to make executions part of their tradition, both Horkion and Oom'Bagu had insisted that the death given be the most painless they could concoct.
As soon as the prisoner was sealed in the hall, it was flooded with a harmless gas that would relax their entire bodies and push away all negative thoughts. As they walked toward their conceivable doom, instead of feeling fear or rage, they would be allowed to dwell on what made them happiest. In prior executions, Laswe had witnessed prisoners be swept away on waves of ecstasy or loll around contentedly.
But Vegeta's reaction to the gas hadn't been anything like he'd expected. Laswe gripped the edge of the screen as the prince abruptly stopped walking, taking in a breath like a man who'd been drowning. He stared up at the ceiling, looking so weak and small, his dark eyes blazing with memory. And then…he'd cried. No, it wasn't crying. It was more like…leaking – watery tears running down his cheeks without notice. He stared ahead of him and fell to his knees, seeming to remember something he'd forgotten, feeling something he'd forced himself not to feel.
Without hesitation, Nevrrest smiled and pressed her button. And equally without hesitation, Horkion had acted.
"You're very cunning, Nevrrest," he boldly told her. One of her magenta eyes lazily shifted to him. "But for all your suspicions you claimed to have about me, you didn't keep a very good eye on me after you took my arm." Horkion opened his fist and tossed something at her feet. The objects clattered and rolled about her talons. Goku's monitor and Oom'Bagu's fusion band. "I did what I said I would last night and asked the computer where Oom'Bagu and Goku were being kept. I went to the holding cell, but inside was nothing but these." Sand ran off Horkion's hide. "Where are they, Nevrrest? Are they even alive?!"
If there was a moment in all these events Laswe had been ready to turn on Nevrrest after all, that had been it. If Horkion was right…if they were really dead…
Nevrrest studied Horkion for a moment, as if sizing up which part of him would be best to slice off next, and then smirked, folding her arms and chuckling. "You two…no, all of you. Such pitiful little weak hearts. I didn't want to tell you the truth because I wanted to spare you. But if you insist, very well." She looked at them, her plume stretching. "They're in the Hell Room."
"What?!" Laswe cried in horror.
Horkion trembled, glaring with rage as she shrugged. "By all means, give me that look. Not that I expect you to understand. What do you, Horkion, even know about punishment? You would have every bastard in our captivity baking cookies if you had your way."
"So this is how it really is?!" Horkion shouted at her, cutting through the air with his single arm, "This is all you've really cared about?! Punishing people?!"
"People who deserve it, yes," she calmly answered, "I know that's a foreign concept to you, but it's how my universe works."
"Yours?!"
"Would you rather it'd be Frieza's?" she coyly replied, her tail swishing against the floor. Horkion rumbled, shaking with anger as he crouched in battle form. "Like it or not, the universe has always been shaped by the strongest. A man like Frieza rose to power and all perished in his wake." She pressed a fist over her heart. "My universe shall be a universe of suffering only for those who do not act in the name of the greater happiness." Her eyes fell on Laswe. It had been like she was looking into his soul. "And my universe shall be one of happiness. Peace and order and prosperity for all those who act in the name of a cause loftier than themselves. This…I promise."
She bared down over Horkion. "The question is, is what place do you have in this future, Horkion, Champion of Minara?! Do you stand for my cause?! Or are you among those who need to be punished?!"
Laswe remembered thinking as he'd seized Horkion's wrist that he wished he could be like him. He wished he could blissfully believe that battling every dark thing in existence was the better way. But Laswe had come to realize and decide that what was right and what was good wasn't the same thing. That was the terrible truth that had allowed him to slam Horkion's hand down on the button. The computer recognized and accepted the biometrics. As it did Laswe's as he simultaneously struck his own button.
Horkion. That guy didn't even react to being betrayed at first. Instead, he gave a terrible outcry, plastering against the viewing screen and shuddering as the hall flooded with two other gases. The first lulled the Prince of all Saiyans into a gentle sleep, Vegeta sliding to the floor and closing his eyes. The second…
"Status," announced the computer, "Prisoner 0001: Terminated."
With every disgusted and self-hating fiber in his body, Laswe had left Horkion and turned fiercely to Nevrrest. "There!" he snapped, "You see! It's over now! Over, you hear?!" He clenched a fist. "Horkion and I are with the Justice. As I promised."
Nevrrest just smiled and nodded, suddenly looking calm and understanding again. "Of course. I'm glad to hear it. The last thing anyone needs is more enemies in these dark times." She walked past them to the door. "I'm so glad to know I can count on…" She stopped, pressing her hand to the door frame and pinning them with darkness coated eyes. "You both."
The door had closed behind her. And not a second later Horkion's fist had nailed him right in the face. Laswe hadn't even tried to shield against it, his squishy body smacking against the wall as Horkion stood trembling over him.
"You…you were on her side all along," the Minarite wavered, sand falling from him like a shower, "Why, Laswe? Whyyy?!"
Laswe hadn't been able to bring himself to look back. "…Because she's right."
"She's evil!"
"She's this galaxy's future," he numbly answered, "Just like Frieza was before her. But hers is a galaxy of peace and joy…and evil or not…it will rise and fall with her."
"I can't believe you actually think that!" he shouted down at him, "Laswe…you were always so…so better than this."
"Better than what?" he answered, shuffling to his feet, "Better than murder? …Yeah. I thought so too." He was sure for a moment Horkion was going to hit him again. Instead, he just deftly turned and walked away. "Horkion!" He grabbed his stony shoulder. "…You'll forgive me for this."
He didn't know whether it had been a reminder, a demand, or a plea. But whatever that pathetic statement had been, Horkion had just looked at him with pebble eyes that couldn't cry. "…Maybe," he answered, and shouldered him off, "…But I shouldn't."
That, by all rights, should have been the end of it. The end of events. The end of the memory. Were it a storybook being read to him as nymph by his mother, like so many in what seemed long ago, his little hands would have forcibly shut the cover over the pages and put away the tragic tale. But it didn't end there. Nor was he sure even now that it was over. Because after that moment came things that bothered him. Things that didn't make sense. Things that were purely…strange.
Standing alone in the control booth, he had looked to the screen to give a final glance at his wretched handiwork before leaving to let the bots collect the body. To his disgust and disbelief, he witnessed Nevrrest within the narrow chamber. She was stooped over Vegeta's body, rubbing his back in what seemed a reassuring gesture and whispering something in his ear. He could only make out from her beak two certain syllables.
"Sw— dr—."
"What the hell?" Laswe scowled.
That had been enough to give Laswe the willies for weeks – Nevrrest petting and whispering something into the ear of a corpse. And he certainly didn't want to stay to witness whatever other strange rituals she might perform. But then he'd heard the explosion and turned back to the screen just in time to see Nevrrest mobbed by a swarm of sickly yellow vines and thorns.
Instantly, he found himself standing next to Horkion again as they both stood in what used to the entrance to the execution chamber – a blackened hole blocked by a wall of thorns. Misado's form glowed with dim, hazy white energy as it struck out at Nevrrest with razor leaves and acid. Nevrrest burned with her own base aura, dodging and swatting aside the attacks in rapid succession. Slowly, Nevrrest was being pushed back.
Nevrrest raised her arm like a sword and cut through Misado's vines. She bared her teeth. "What is this, Misado?!" she shouted, "I demand an explanation!"
Looking more like a terrifying yellow beast than the plant guardian they had always known, Misado sent a pair of trunks into the floor and stretched out a flourish of ghastly leaves. "We have seen into your heart, Nevrrest," the hissing voice answered, "And we know your intent." Another set of leaves stretched out of the mass, softer, greener ones that slipped under Vegeta's body, lifting it up and beginning to wrap it in a foliage cocoon. "And we…will not allow you to do this one any further harm! WE…WILL DESTROY YOU FIRST!"
"What?!" Nevrrest cried back, "But how could you—?!" She gasped, her eyes widening and body trembling with horror as she saw Vegeta's body being protectively pulled into the plant mass. She gave a shriek, like a mother bird guarding her nest, and shot into the thick of Misado, slashing wildly with energy and talons to get to Vegeta's remains.
"What the hell is going on?!" Laswe demanded, trying to find a way through the wall of thorns.
"Misado, don't!" Horkion desperately pleaded, "You're still hurt and weak – you're no match for her!"
Nevrrest wheeled forth, cutting into Misado's mass as Vegeta's body was pulled deeper inside, the Saiyan disappearing beneath a protective green shell. But as Nevrrest drove deeper, still Misado's sickly form grew around her. Laswe recalled crying out as Misado's spiked and venomous foliage had closed in on her like a snapping maw. Under normal circumstances, that would be the end of it. Misado would purge her quarry out of existence.
But these had not been normal circumstances. Because no one defeated Nevrrest.
Inside Misado burned a brilliant blood red light and Misado's form gave a soft wail as its attack exploded, giving way to a figure who stood blazing like a phoenix. Crimson Fury Nevrrest stood before the reforming appendages of Misado, her ever-heavy brow lowered, hugging the leafy cocoon with one arm to her breast.
"No one stops me, Misado," she stated darkly. She tossed the cocoon far behind her and took a battle stance. "No one."
"Nevrrest! Misado!" Laswe shouted, "Stop this! Why the hell are you fighting over a corpse?!"
Neither of them answered. Instead, Misado leered over Nevrrest, her whole form truly looking like the jaws of a beast, dripping with acid and poison. Nevrrest laughed at the display. "Your entire planet-sphere failed in its fight against Frieza." She spread her fingers in a wide fan, blasting Misado with a beam that turned the encroaching vines to dust. "And you think this pathetic avatar stands a chance against me?" Her glowing yellow eyes burned. "I'm practically a god."
The avatar grew again, curling on itself in knots and building powerful limbs. "The universe has grown ripe with the power of good," it answered, "We are much stronger than we were then."
Nevrrest smirked. "Hmph. I've heard it before."
She pushed a hand forward and blasted Misado again, alternating back and forth from palm to palm, each pulse dissolving a piece of the avatar to nothing. Misado resisted, its pale yellow boils oozing with the effort. Misado lashed out with a limb, but Nevrrest caught it with ease and ripped it straight out. Then came a volley of shooting thorns moving at incredible speed, each one Nevrrest lazily shifted out of the way of. The rest of Misado's formed limbs struck out from every direction.
Nevrrest appeared at the base of the main mass. "You want to be a real threat, Misado?" She pressed both hands against the central trunk. "Learn a little things called…" The red explosion sent chlorophyll splattering against the walls. She grinned. "Evolution."
"Misado, get out of there!" Horkion cried, pounding against the avatar's barrier.
The smoke billowed for a moment but then came an unearthly wail – a spirit's battle cry – and all the fury of Misado's wrath sprang forth. It had happened so fast, but to Laswe it had been in slow motion, each of Misado's daring strikes aimed direction for Nevrrest's heart. Nevrrest's narrow, flexible body twisted to avoid each strike, moving gracefully, almost as though in the midst of a dance.
Nevrrest flipped back, balanced on a palm, the last spiked vine planting into the floor where she had just been. She cackled. "Really, Misado? I'm going to be nice just this once and ask you to give up."
But even as she said this her crooked grin fell, seeing the blue energy crackle around the avatar as a charged beam gathered at its front. He imagined she must have also realized, as he had, that the supposed strikes had been nothing more than a trick. This was made evident by the wall of vines that now surrounded her. Nevrrest hissed and turned to break through them, but it was too late. They ensnared her in their cruel grip, Nevrrest angrily thrashing about as the thorns dug into her flesh.
Laswe remembered how the blue light had glinted off of Horkion's polished eyes, his voice lowered like the soft clack of a tumbling stone. "…Nevrrest…"
The swirling vortex that gathered before Misado was an attack worthy of a beautiful, terrifying name. But even though Misado had never named her moves, it was still more than enough to make Nevrrest disappear in the brilliant light. The beam shot forth from the center of the vortex, twisting like a screw, striking the Blecha right in the chest. Laswe remembered being in utter awe that Misado had been able to summon that much energy in her weakened, sickly state. And he couldn't help but tremble as to why this was happening.
For a moment, as the smoke filled the air, he wondered if she was actually dead. The worst part was he was tempted to be happy at this hope. But even before the dust settled, his senses told him otherwise. Nevrrest stood amidst the tangled vines just as she had before, with only a tiny bruise on her chest to show otherwise.
Her eyes peeled up at Misado, the vines and thorns still holding her in bondage. "My turn."
With an open, upward thrust of her beak, Nevrrest let forth such a cry unlike Laswe had ever heard. It shook the room, shook the ship, shook his entire reality. The red energy that blazed around her was so bright it blinded him, so powerful it burned him – turned the air into the pit of a volcano. Misado shriveled like dry leaves in a stove before it, its grasp on the warrior evaporating into smoke.
But the worst of it was the sensation. Laswe had felt power before. He'd felt it radiate from a warrior's quantum form. He'd felt it from Goku and Vegeta on Earth. Power was a tangible, electric thing. With the proper training, you could feel it deep inside yourself, like putting out a hand against the force of a hurricane. And in the sensation he'd felt coming from Nevrrest in that moment, he had known terror.
"She's been misleading us!" Laswe shouted over the roaring din, metal plates being ripped from the walls.
"Yeah?!" Horkion called back.
"Giving us the run-around! She…she said she was just as strong as Frieza!"
"What are you saying?!"
Laswe's wings shuddered in the red wind. "…She's far surpassed Frieza. She's far stronger than any of us could ever dream. She's…!" His mind had flashed of Goku, standing in the courtroom but the day before, blazing like a golden torch. He thought of the battle where they had captured Vegeta, how she had played the inferior warrior and pulled quantum out like a hidden gun. "…There's no one who could stop her. Even without quantum. She's unsurpassable! She's…she's a monster…"
The flaming red turned to crimson lightning, sparking around Nevrrest as she raised up her hands in front of her, harshly slapping the side of her right hand to the palm of her left and holding that pose. Her eyes bared down on Misado as it tried to rise up again. "Death Cutter."
"Nevrrest, no!" Laswe and Horkion had both cried, for that moment their voices becoming one again, their ideals and desires perfectly aligned. But it didn't matter. Because there was nothing – no force in the universe that could stop Nevrrest the Crimson.
A torrent of energy shot out from the cross point of Nevrrest's hands, becoming dozens of red balls that surrounded Misado. The balls warped into razor thin discs that spun wildly on their axis. Misado hardened its form to try to shield from the attack, but nothing could stop the Death Cutter, dozens upon dozens of energy blades that sliced back and forth through Misado over and over again, terrible flashes of light with each blow and finally an explosion.
This time, when the smoke cleared, there was no one left. Misado was nothing but a shriveled, shredded pile of brown – practically dust.
"You…" Horkion whimpered in horror, "You murdered her!"
Laswe could barely stand. "You just killed Misado!"
Nevrrest smirked angrily and reached out a hand, forming a fist. At this motion, the broken remains condensed into a ball in the air and she flung it scattering like ashes behind her. "It's an avatar," she snorted at their expressions, "Diseased, polluted, and ruined. Misado will send us a new one. A better one."
Laswe couldn't even bring himself to fly anymore. Instead, he had just sat there, shaking on his fat, jiggling tail. "But…why…why the hell were you trying to kill each other over a body?!" Horkion leak out sand next to him, completely speechless and covered with helpless rage.
Nevrrest let out a little breath, all her erect feathers flattening and resuming their natural colors, her power level dropping to a low, comfortable level. "I don't know," she stated briskly, "She tried to grab it for some reason. I don't know what she wanted with it but…I just wouldn't have it."
Laswe had never heard a more unconvincing statement in his entire life. "So you just killed her?!"
"It? Yes." She dusted herself off and casually twisted a thread of her silky plumage around her forefinger. "Troublesome. Fixable."
"The hell?!"
She grated her beak over itself as if she were the solving dilemma of what to have for dinner. "Couple days at most. That's all we need. One more—"
Nevrrest hadn't muttered anything else. Because a sharp, woody shoot was protruding just below her breast. Laswe remembered it just like that. There had been a brief, glimmering blue light behind Nevrrest and then the next she was impaled. Nevrrest's eyes wide, her throat throbbed momentarily before letting out a two-second waterfall of blood. The bloody shoot stretched, like fingers grasping at the air before it wilted, turning brown and dissolving into dust, leaving a bleeding hole in Nevrrest's chest.
Nevrrest gagged as blood leaked out of the air-holes of her beak, dropping to one knee and clutching a hand to her stomach. Blood leaked out through her fingers, staining scales and feathers, dripping and splattering on the flood. "No," she clenched, "Won't. Not…yet."
The sight of her like that had left him in a daze, unable to move or realize anything was real. Horkion was no better. Finally, just for a moment, they both forgot everything. Forgot plots, murders, and lies and just ran to the woman that had been for many years their comrade, role model, and friend as she held her life back with her bare palm.
The memory blurred with their cries, shouts of needing to get her to the infirmary, losing their minds over what had just happened. But for some reason, Nevrrest had shoved them away.
"Vegeta!" she cried. The sound of it alone had been enough to freeze Laswe once again. It was desperate and forlorn, like the cries his mother had made the day he'd died, her arms outstretched. She stumbled over to the shriveled cocoon, her feathers and scales turning crimson under the flow. The look she gave the corpse as she slashed the withered foliage away was one of deep relief that had drive Laswe mad since that moment.
What in the universe had she been thinking? 'Oh good, he's still dead'?
Still riding on the emotion of old friendship, Horkion and Laswe had grabbed her and tried to carry her away to a doctor, to a medical kit, to anything that would save her. They hadn't expected the tail that had swiped them away as she hurried into the long hall that had lead them there, falling once against the wall and leaving a deep, scarlet smear.
"No…not over yet…!" he had heard her cry as she fled from them, "Must…finish…! Must end it…! Must…find…them…! Sepis!"
Juri-dur glared at him impatiently and it suddenly occurred to Laswe he'd been doing nothing but staring at the guard for nearly a minute straight.
"I…see," Laswe managed.
"Don't worry," Juri-dur shot back, "I won't tell anyone. You'd probably find a way to shut me up if I tried. I just wanted you to know."
The Grand Guardian swallowed. "I…understand," he finally answered.
"Good," Juri-dur sharply replied, "Then you'll understand this." He moved his hand in an intricate motion over his wrist and his security staff-issue fusion band popped off. Laswe's eyes followed the descent as Juri-dur sat it on his desk, his lower lip stiff. "…I didn't join this fleet cause I was out to hurt anybody," he stated, "Especially good people. I joined because I thought you justiciars stood for something. I thought you were going to bring justice to this galaxy at last." His fingers slipped out from under the band, abandoning it entirely. "But you're not. 'Cause you don't even know what justice is. Not anymore."
Emptiness and silence fell over the room as the former member of the Justice, the one called Juri-dur, left, unlikely to ever be seen again. Laswe felt numb, the alcohol swirling just beneath his rubbery skin with all the other juices. He saw Vegeta walk across his room and turn his head with a regal glare, like the hallucination meant to warp him out of reality and challenge him to a fight. Laswe stared back at the kelga-induced delusion.
Suddenly, Laswe found himself overwhelmed with the desire to hate something other than himself, even just for a moment. He screamed, picking up his desk with strength that little Ponachi years ago would not have had and threw it right at Vegeta's face – that face that dare look at him so accusing, fierce, and flushed with life. Why did he feel less alive than a damn kelga ghost?! Why had Vegeta been found and destroyed Laswe's entire world – destroyed the idol that he had worshipped since the moment she had descended upon his planet in a cloak of red flame?
He threw his chair at it next. And then everything he could get his hands on in the room until all his furniture and electronics were broken rumble against the cracked far wall of his office. Laswe collapsed in dizzy exhaustion, realized that the rest of the bottle had been in that desk, and cursed foully.
The illusion of Vegeta had left. It had better things to do.
Laswe clasped his face and curled up on the floor, knowing in his heart that he had failed. All his friends were gone. And the fleet lived on upon the back of a lie and his own ticket straight to Hell. Unconsciousness was finally coming for him. And he didn't care if he woke up. He didn't care if he ever came to understand what Nevrrest had whispered in Vegeta's ear or why Misado had sacrificed herself for a corpse.
But in his misery, he found himself left with two wishes. One, that Nevrrest would bleed to death in whatever place she had fled to and sink at last into the darkness that had birthed her and her prince.
And lastly, that some wild fantasy would bring Horkion's hope to fruition – that a shining champion of good would swoop in and save them.
(**Scene Break**)
Oom'Bagu watched Goku's backside from his place seated on the floor as he finished these words, the Saiyan's arms hanging by his sides as he looked off at the wall like it was a distant horizon. Goku's green boot shifted as he hummed. "Hm. Well. If that's all really the case…" He turned, his large eyes gentle, but wild with a sort of childish excitement as he thinly smiled. "Then Vegeta's not dead after all."
Oom'Bagu stared at him, unable to even process this for several moments. "What do you mean? Do you not understand what I'm saying?"
"Hm…I think so," Goku considered, scratching a finger against his jawline, "But, just to make sure, why don't you run it by me one more time."
Oom'Bagu sighed heavily. Perhaps the trauma of recent events was getting to the poor man. "As I said," he stated, looking off sadly, "Nevrrest told me her plan before she sent me down here. She explained how she would use Horkion and the future of the fleet as leverage against Laswe to force him into cooperating. And as much as I hate to admit it, I know it worked. Laswe is very strong of character, but he has his weaknesses. One of them is believing that his actions control everything else…perhaps a lesson he learned as a prince."
"Yeah, I get that, but that's not what I mean," Goku said, holding his hands out to the side, "I'm sure you're right about Horkion and Laswe. But it's the part about the execution that makes me sure of it."
Oom'Bagu eyed him, unexpectedly curious. "What do you mean?"
"Well, you said that the way you kill people is the most painless way possible, right?"
"Mm," Oom'Bagu nodded, "So you can at least have the consolation that Vegeta did not suffer."
"But that's just what I mean." Goku's brow lowered, his face serious. "From the very beginning, Nevrrest has wanted nothing more than for Vegeta to suffer as much as possible. I could see it in the way she fought him and from the way she acted every time she even mentioned his name. Call me wrong, but that sounds like the exact opposite of what she's forcing Laswe and Horkion to do."
Oom'Bagu's eyes shifted, not wanting to think about it, not want to even consider what else that monster in his friend's skin might do. "True," he finally agreed.
"So she must be planning something else," Goku determined, "I don't know what…but it's not going to be good. Still. If it's only been a day…then I bet Vegeta's still alive somewhere."
Oom'Bagu rubbed at his horns. "That is a very thin theory, Goku. It sounds more like a vain hope than anything else."
"It may sound that way," Goku answered, giving that thin smile again, "But it's more than just that. Call me crazy, but I can…feel that he's still alive somewhere."
Oom'Bagu looked up in attention. "You can sense him?"
"Not exactly…" His fingers ran along the edge of his prison collar, tracing the pink flesh where the shackling process had burned him. "Call it…a gut feeling. Back when I lost my grandpa, I looked everywhere for him. And even though I never found his body, I eventually stopped looking cause I could just feel it in my stomach that he was gone."
Oom'Bagu wilted slightly, looking at Goku in a new light as he said this, feeling the sprinkles of sadness falling from the warrior. "Your grandpa?"
"Mm," Goku nodded. He looked down a little. "I was told he found me as a baby when my pod got sent to Earth. He was the first one to teach me anything until…well until he died. I still miss him, but I know he's happy in Otherworld."
Oom'Bagu felt a tightening in his chest – more than just a reflection of Goku, but feeling his own pain. "You…know that, do you?"
Again, Goku nodded. "I've seen him many times since then. We've actually had plenty of chances to see each other, so it's alright."
"…That's right," Oom'Bagu said quietly, "…I forgot you died before." Oom'Bagu felt himself crumpling inside. He'd been holding it in for hours, but emotion was a beast you could cage only for so long. Every once in a while, it had to come out. Goku stared at Oom'Bagu with concern as tears started to run, matting his fur all over again. "You remind me of my son sometimes. He had a deathly fear too, you know. Butterflies. He could barely stand the sight of them. Said their wings were too big and they frightened him." More tears ran. "Butterflies," he almost laughed, "Of all the things…"
Goku stood still, studying him for a long moment. He wasn't an empath like Oom'Bagu, but he could see the terror struggling to come out from under the Gregorik's tears. He imagined he must have looked just like that the day Frieza had destroyed his world. The sight of it made Goku's heart ache, but it also made him feel suddenly stronger as well. The pain of others had always had that effect on him. All it took was one person suffering, and Goku would make the sun change its course to put an end to it.
Oom'Bagu stiffened with surprised as Goku's hand reached down and planted firmly on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Oom'Bagu. We're going to save them all. Everyone you and I care about. Even Nevrrest. I'm going to put a stop to all of it."
Oom'Bagu looked up at him, those black eyes still kind and caring, at the same time fierce and almost feral. And in a moment of brilliance, Oom'Bagu came to the realization that for the first time since they had met, he believe him. He believed in Son Goku in every way.
Oom'Bagu took Goku's hand, despair still pulling like weights at his ankles, but forcing himself to his feet. "Alright, Goku," he said with certainty, "I believe you. If you say Vegeta is alive, then he is. If you say that there is hope, there is. And if you say that you will stop Nevrrest…then you will."
Joy danced across Goku's face, wiggling under his serious brow. "Alright!" He turned and put his fist to his palm. "So, first things first, how are we going to get out of his room?"
Oom'Bagu's expression fell. "I…have no idea."
"Oh, come on," Goku pressed, giving him a puppy look as he sidled up to him, "You gotta have some idea."
Oom'Bagu rubbed at his head. "Well…" He pointed at last. "The only exit is that door there. The room is just as secure as any cell. Except...I suppose the door itself could be considered a weakness." He walked up to it and Goku followed. It was the same color as the rest of the room – cold, solid, grey metal. Oom'Bagu felt around the indention that was the security lock. "If enough force was applied to this spot, it would destroy the lock."
"Got it!" Goku cried. He stooped, stretching his right arm a bit before reeling back and slamming his fist right into the indention. Instantly, Goku's face crinkled. "Gaaaaooooww!" he cried, jumping back and hugging his hand to his chest, "That really, really hurt!"
Oom'Bagu stared at him and finally gave a heavy sigh, looking again at the unaffected lock as Goku hopped around, puffing and whistling. "Correction. I should say it would take an enormous amount of force. At least two thousand levels of power."
"I guess I'm a lot weaker than I thought," Goku remarked, shaking his hand out and inspecting his red knuckles. He reached back, feeling at the section of the collar just over his spine where the inhibitor chip resided. "Is there any way—"
"No," Oom'Bagu answered, "Again, not without at least two thousand levels of force."
"I'm guessing that's a lot."
Oom'Bagu blurted an ironic laugh. "It's the standard maximum power output of a PTO soldier. It would take a bare fraction of your power were it not for your shackle."
"Huh," Goku said, touching his chin as he studied the door, "So we gotta find a way to gather that much energy."
"Which is impossible," Oom'Bagu added, "Even if there was another source to draw the power from, the inhibitor chip prevents the body from channeling it."
"What about the other justiciars?" Goku offered, "Or maybe one of the people who work for you? Is there a way we could contact someone and have them break the lock?"
Oom'Bagu groaned, starting to feel weary and defeated again. "Perhaps if one of us were Sepis there'd be a way. But it's impossible to mere prisoners like us to contact anyone from solitary. It's called that for a reason." He leaned against the wall, bowing his head and folding his arms. "And even if there were, I'm not convinced there's anyone we could contact. Misado's probably still recovering from the damage the avatar sustained from the negative energy. And Laswe and Horkion…I don't even know. Or know if I want to think about it. As for any of the rest of the staff…" His eyes grew sullen with stewing anger. "Nevrrest has probably fed them some lie by now. They would not help us escape."
"I guess we're on our own then," Goku replied, sitting down in front of the door and folding his legs under him. Resting his hands on his knees, he bent forward slightly, staring at the lock with deep consternation.
— AUTHOR NOTE —
With this chapter I am proud to announce that we have officially entered the final section of Dragon Ball Z: A Good Man. You guys are in for quite the ride. Lots of fighting and epic dialogue is in coming.
On that note I have two key things to say. One, I wish to express my deep, heart-felt gratitude to all those who have been with me over the pass year as I've written his novel-sized fan fiction. Your open, honest, and enthusiastic feedback has not only been great inspiration to me, but filled my life with joy.
Second, I would like to publicly address a frequent question I have been getting – do I plan to write more DBZ fics? The answer is a big YES! I have an entire collection of stories planned for my expanded DBZ universe and they will all be as true to the show and created with as much love and effort as this one.
Lastly, I am announcing another hiatus. This isn't because I won't be writing for a while, but because the next few chapters are going to be so intensive, I'll need some extra time to produce them. But, as with previous hiatuses, you can expect not to have to wait very long. I doubt it will be longer than a month or so.
With that, my dearest readers, I look forward to reading your feedback on this latest chapter and to seeing you in the next one!