We didn't have anymore problems from the Reyallow over the following days, what was left of what their people must have considered a fearsome band of warriors was now a loose collection of conscripts and pleasure slaves with a rate of attrition likely worse than it was before this change in position came about for them. The belief when it comes to large influxes of chattel is a violent series of examples, and the immediate break of any trust in lines of communication between leadership and potential rebels. Of course we also don't allow anyone with a level of power exceeding a certain threshold to exist as a slave.
If my own experience was any indicator, It works.
At the moment I was inside my quarters, focusing on the form and practice of a one finger hand-stand pushup, and ignoring the light hum of the overhead lighting. Between spiritual energy, good hygiene and years of exercise I had long since stopped struggling with carrying my own body weight. However, keeping balance without the use of flight to stabilize my body was a much, much more significant task to see through. It was more than just the arm keeping me upright or the finger bracing against the ground. It was a constant exercise in control. My entire body had to account for even minute shifts in weight. It was a perfect distraction from control exercises, allowing me to regulate the difficulty of both tasks to the maximum possible strain.
Without a teacher or technology to help things along I had to get creative with my ability to improve. Always. At the moment the best I could manage was inverting the flow of my energy in the opposite direction of its usual path throughout my body, while twisting it into a variety of shapes. I preferred a double-helix as a sort of "relaxed" position, before mimicking the movements of a number of energy based attacks I had seen among our crew members. I had already recorded in my notebook the interesting diversity and similarities between these attacks. They were all different, but shared a few common traits based off of the biology and temperament of those who utilized them.
Some were harder to recreate than others, and I could actually feel the direction my own energy wanted to travel to achieve that same result. I can't help but wonder why that is. Is it a factor of biology, like the evidence seems to point to? Or is it a matter of the soul? A reflection of inner being that ki wants act in a specific manner. It could even be both. And what about techniques?
Why are specific variations of the movement of energy more effective than others? Why do some techniques draw out more energy than it seems a being has at their initial disposal? Why is it so difficult to control energy that doesn't belong to yourself, and why is the result of such difficulty a poison to the individual trying to draw it in?
My eyes opened at the sound of a growl, and I looked over to Apara as she mimicked my movements. On the face of it we were doing the exact same exercise, but so close to her I could see the individual strands of her ki as she attempted to force it into the same shape I was. The flooring under her finger glowed red with ambient heat, and I actually saw her sink a centimeter or two into her twenty-fifth repetition before she gritted her teeth and moved and few inches to her left.
"Dont-"
"Quiet!" she huffed, refocusing on the task at hand as I counted the series of holes I now had in my floor. I exhaled when the number exceeded twelve, before turning my focus inward again.
What about Apara's biology, what about her soul predisposed her energy towards explosive growth following a period of extreme violence? Why does the growth respond proportionally to the damage she's taken? If I were to beat her as close to death's door as I could without finishing her off, would the result be different from waiting for the last possible second to rescue her from a superior foe? Would her emotional state in either situation make the results any different?
What wasn't I seeing? What wasn't I understanding?
It was frustrating not having an expert to speak with about it. Even more so when It seemed as far as most of the known universe was concerned, I was the expert. If this kind of question was at all common, how could the strongest united army anyone had ever seen be made up of assholes like those on this ship?
If I ever have the luxury of getting to Earth, Namek, or any other world where these secrets might actually be explored, would my own insights be considered unique, or the mumblings of a child poking at forces he didn't understand?
Even if they were, they've gotten me this far.
I paused midway through a repetition when my scouter chimed from the small end table I had just to the side of the pile of pelts I used to sleep on. With my free hand I reached out, putting the device over my eye and watching as information lined the screen.
Gerrick Four
Estimated population- 2.8 Trillion
Biodiversity- City World
Average Power Level- 97
Outlier Power Range- 700-1200
Contender Flag- Galactic Patrol
Reinforcements required
Arrival in two days
Bidding already under way
I smiled.I felt Apara's energy as she trained. She was in good form, stronger now than she was in our battle against the pirates. I knew she was itching for a fight. She was always itching for a fight. Sometimes life has a way of opening a door for you.
"Request Further information." I drawled. For a moment the machine beeped as it considered the command, before a modulated voice answered me.
"Specify."
"I want to know the weather patterns and lunar schedule of world designated Gerrick Four."
"Acknowledged. Terraformer and high density population indicates near constant smog intermingled with cloud cover. Lunar cycle includes three moons, 90 to 40 day fluctuations between them."
Doable. Very Doable.
"Team assignments?" This time the scouter responded with another scrawl of text.
2758 Commander Belk
Power Level- 1270
10912 Forian
Power Level- 600
7478 Apara
Power Level- 278
6868 Feathers of Black
Power Level- 675
9850 Grennec
Power Level- 750
4561 Dennis
Power Level- 280
I guess they finally figured out who to give us over to. Belk is a well known battle junkie with a bad attitude to boot. Hates cowards and has a habit of "losing" those under his command. He's also an old hat. Been at this longer than I've been aboard. He didn't seem to like me very much. Never even really made a request for a meal even though I knew he was one of the more exploratory sorts of eaters. So he wasn't exactly attached to my position either.
"Anything interesting?" Apara asked, looking over her own scouter as she processed our newest assignment. There was a grin of anticipation on her face that I was struggling not to meet with my own. I laughed, before returning to my exercise.
"Belk's a character. Expect hazing from his little band, and don't waste our time on a fight with them unless you have too. Given their battle power I suspect we were put there to be given some trouble, I'd like to prove we're no trouble at all. At least when it comes to our own."
Apara hesitated, mulling over what I had just told her. We had a few conversations in the past about paying attention to the small details in the things people say. The Saiyan girl hummed.
"You think we'll fight other crews again? More credits for the rest of us?" She was learning. I nodded, pushing off the ground and onto another finger.
"Maybe, But I think It'll be a little different this time. Most worlds don't bloody us like Herridan. We know what to expect here. We're going in knowing we have a fight on that level." Apara Shifted in confusion, nearly losing her balance before switching to another hand.
"And?" I considered not answering her. Apara had great instincts for fighting, always managed to get an idea of who might side with who in a fight, and she paid attention when she needed to. She just wasn't very good at discerning intentions.
"We're being tested again. Or disposed of. I can't really tell which yet." She didn't react, but more excitement bloomed in her energy. Damned girl lived for this shit.
"So why are you in such a good mood?" She questioned, grin starting to show in her voice.
I'm actually surprised she noticed, and figured out I wouldn't share her excitement for the same reason.
"I always did like the big city. It's a better battleground than a bunch of bug holes."
Apara thought for a moment, before she giggled.
"I think so too."
Roughly 40 hours later I was standing in a line on the Frost's hangar bay. Waiting for Belk to come and brief us on our expectations and what he wanted done for the duration of this purge. The call had to arms had gone out about 30 minutes ago, and a few of the commanders had already given their orders.
A gaggle of around a hundred or so Reyallow conscripts were gathered at the front of the hangar, looking around nervously and now equipped with traditional PTO armblasters. Feathers of Yellow was giving them their induction speech, and even though I couldn't hear what he was saying I still felt a pang of not quite nostalgia at the sight.
"She's almost stronger than you now…" I shot a look over at the alien who had spoken, shifting slightly as his elbow dug into my side. Albino skin, spiked cheeks. One of the new meat, a Spaklan. He looked almost like any young man might, youthful and energetic with shoulder length crimson hair. A little bit of makeup to go with it and he'd look like he walked off of a metal band cover.
"That Saiyan youngling, I mean. People say she'll really be something to see in a fight a few years down the line, that you look out for each other. You think she'll watch your back when she's a commander and you're still barely at 300 battle power?"
My scouter pinged as it read my squadmate's name. Forian. 600 battlepower without having even been to a purge world. A sparkling prospect for our ship if not for the wider galaxy, but also the greenest person here.
I wonder whatever happened to Marriv or Shalex, those Gerresians I had fought with on my first purge. I never had the chance to ask, and by the time I had gathered up the courage to explore the ship with the title of cook protecting me, they were already long gone. I think they'd hate me for what I'd become. I also think they'd respect what I was capable of. I looked him in the eye, leaning in his direction.
"You're embarrassed to be the third weakest person on a squad with two people under three hundred battle power, and your starting to understand how things work around here so you don't want to be associated with someone with a power level closer to the people you just helped rape and murder than your own. You think making me seem weak will bring you more respect from the others now that your permanent assignment has come through."
If he had been here longer he'd have known better to assume it was that simple, but then again I don't like to advertise my strength. Not yet anyway.
Forian didn't respond, but that was answer enough on its own. He looked forward, his arms crossed behind his back. Guilt flashed across his ki, he didn't like the reminder about what happened to the Reyallow but he remained stone-faced. Maybe that was why Belk liked him. I didn't bother trying to fight him. If he turned out to be a problem I'd handle that somewhere in the world below us.
"We'll do it again, you know." I sent a nod in the conscript's direction, watching Forian straighten. "-This time on a larger scale than you can imagine. Have you ever been to a city world, new meat? Spires as tall as the eye can see. More people in a square mile than you've met in your entire lifetime."
I mimicked my new squadmates' pose as Belk finally walked in. The massive Purple being was one of the familiar species in familiar force, considered favored by Freeza. One of their strongest was even one of our lord's personal attendants. Dodoria.
"-When they burn, and you die for hesitating to kill when you're told to, think about the difference in our power then." I said, smiling as the conscripts loaded into an attack ball.
Nearly nine feet of fat and muscle marched in front of us, a thick skinned, spike covered brute with an easy grin and an eager gleam in his eye. Our commander was the very image of PTO warrior. A known lover of cruelty and bloodshed in all its myriad forms.
"After that big miss on Herridan, the only veteran member of the 89th squad aboard this ship aside from myself is Feathers of Black here." He gestured to the raven headed humanoid to my immediate left."-So I'll let you new people know how I do things."
"I will be personally reviewing the battle logs of each and every warrior under my command, and I expect nothing less than the merciless killing of every enemy you come across. If he, she, or it is too much for you to handle, you call me and stay the fuck out of my way. Praying the whole while whatever it was you needed me to kill for you was actually worth my time.
He knelt on one tree trunk-like leg, staring me right in the eyes. "If I find you fled from the battlefield or skirted your duties, I'll dunk you in a healing tank without a respirator, and eat you piece by bloody piece. I'll savage your corpse and wear whatever's left as a cockring to fuck your mother with." I raised an eyebrow at the delightful imagery Belk's words brought to mind.
"Am I understood?"