Conscience Of A Soldier Ch. 00byLaRascasse©
This story uses the Saiyan race of DBZ fame, but does not use any of its main characters or plot lines. Hence, I am posting this chapter in SciFi rather than Celebrity. It can be called fan fiction. I hope you like it. Give me comments and feedback on your way out.
Measures of weight, time and length have been converted to human units. In case you haven't seen DBZ, Saiyans look like humans, but are infinitely more powerful.
DISCLAIMER- Note that the alien races shown here are barbaric and cruel. The things they are implied to have done have not been watered down. Not a fluffy read ahead, in case you expected that.
A mighty wind buffeted the surface of the desolate rocky planet. The four visitors stood in silence, drinking in the landscape around them. Over the far horizon, they could see a star. It peeked out, casting a mauve hue over the spires rising from the surface.
"So what do you make of it?" said the unusually dark Daxos to his fellow squad member. His dim eyes betrayed no emotion.
"Tough to say," replied the slightly fairer Xharo. "The place looks of no use. Maybe the inhabitants will be better."
They turned to face their leader. Fasha looked around once, then once more. Her battle weary eyes saw nothing redeeming about it. The other three stood at rapt attention, awaiting her order. They had no loyalty towards her, Saiyans never do. Fear was always a bigger motivator.
"Split up and see if there is anything worth salvaging on this rock."
Immediately, the three subordinates flew off in different directions at terrific speeds leaving Fasha to her own thoughts. She went and sat on a smooth boulder nearby, thinking about her next step. Part of her wished they would not find any useful life forms here. If they found any, they would not survive long at the hands of their new masters.
Her eyes drifted over the Eastern sky. The stars shown clearly on the black cosmos. This sight was always a source of wonder, even though she had been to some of the farthest corners of the universe.
A small dome of white light appeared to her East. It was followed by several larger explosions, ending in one so powerful, it lit up the ground for an instant. She did not even bat an eyelid at the dazzling inferno or the plume of smoke.
She had seen it all and more. In her opinion, she had seen too much.
A while later, all three returned to her. Xharo looked tired from his exertions.
"Nothing, my lady," said Daxos. "The only race on this planet seems to be a shambling species that is too slow and clumsy for any work."
"Yes, my lady," Xharo jumped in excitedly. "I got some good workout eliminating one of their settlements."
All eyes turned to the third subordinate in the squad. Cassimir had a suggestion.
"Can't we make it into a frontier outpost?"
"No. We have enough outposts for this quadrant," said Fasha firmly, knowing fully well what her statement meant for the planet. She had a duty to effectively see that this part of space was explored. Individual planets were pittance compared to the greater plan.
The others nodded obediently. All of them would have killed her and taken her place without a second thought. The only problem was that her power level was over a million times higher than all of theirs combined... and that was when she wasn't powered up for battle.
All four of them flew back in silence to their spacecraft hovering in the sky. The hatch opened on cue, letting them in.
"What shall we do, my lady?" Cassimir asked.
"You know what has to be done," she said evenly. "Decide who amongst the three of you will do it."
Fasha left them to their task and walked to the upper level, sinking into her chair. The planet loomed overhead, its time drawing near. She watched through the cameras as Xharo was designated to put the worthless chunk of stone out of existence. He held his palms together and his face contorted with intense concentration. He was focusing his energy into a ball in the palm of his hand.
She watched as the blue mass of pure energy crept outside the doors and grew. He had been working on his technique. It was about as large as the spaceship now, a brilliant blue mass of power.
"Fire it already," urged Cassimir. He nodded and his creation hurtled towards the surface of the planet. She watched its progress through her glass panel.
It reduced to a shiny spot, before making impact with the ground. There was a minor eruption at first, which multiplied at an alarming rate. Visible fissures ran through the entire surface, lit up by the sudden influx of energy.
Fasha turned the chair around. This was a sight she had seen too often. The planet ignited in a spectacular manner. The brightness lit up the interior of the spacecraft for a few moments, subsiding into nothingness, like the planet itself. She glanced over her shoulder to see empty space where a planet just stood.
One more species had been put out of their misery. This time, she did not even get to see them.
A smaller blast from the lower level indicated her crew of three had reduced by one. Not at all uncommon, considering how Saiyans would kill their own families if they perceived them to be a threat. Gender did not matter, all that mattered was power and those who had it.
She descended to see the mess. Cassimir and Daxos stood over the prone body of Xharo, who had spent all of his energy dispensing with the planet, giving the other two a perfect opportunity.
"We never liked him much, my lady," Daxos admitted, his palm ready to land the final strike.
She eyed them with a look of utter disinterest.
"Go ahead," she said, climbing back up. "Finish it off."
Gleefully, Daxos flung a small white burst of energy at the limp form, disintegrating it in a flash. All that remained was a burn mark on the metal floor.
"That's that," he said, retiring to his compartment.
Fasha started the engines back towards her home planet. They had come and wiped another chuck of space out of existence because they deemed it unnecessary. It had been ages since anyone had given the Saiyans a decent contest. They came in and destroyed with wanton impunity.
Destruction was in their blood. The urge to see the universe burn around them was too powerful to fight. The intergalactic scourge left a trail of vanished civilizations in their wake. The lucky ones got to disappear, others were made into slaves. Some were slaves for the Saiyans, some for the highest bidder.
Rumour had it that some of these bidders were even more sadistic than the Saiyans. Not as powerful, but with a creative appetite for torture exceeding what the battle hardened Saiyans had seen.
She knew. She had often had to use their own methods on them for the entertainment of others. After all, easy explosive destruction can get monotonous.
The craft left a blazing tail, careening through space towards the home planet. Fasha wanted to sleep the rest of the journey, but she knew that the moment her eyes closed, she would see a slew of scenes of battles she had won. The pleading eyes of those she defeated, the grand civilizations she had demolished... they all came back to her in vivid colour.
And when they did, she felt a curious feeling no other Saiyan felt. It had no name. None that she knew of yet anyway.
The sliding panel covering the entry to the space port opened at their arrival. The ramp extended out for the ship to land. Technicians ran in all directions, clearing the way. The afterburners flamed, heralding their approach. Some of them looked on in awe at the sleek design on the ship, making contact with the landing bay. It roared forward, coming to a gradual halt about halfway through the length.
There was a glimmer of light from inside as the hatch doors on the underside of the craft opened. The slender, yet formidable figure of Fasha levitated down. Her dark hair billowed in the wind and her eyes looked at her familiar surroundings with a feeling of disdain.
Everybody stood at attention, trembling with fear. Saiyans only needed the slightest excuse to kill. Ones like her were even more frightening. Fasha wasn't a being they could begin to comprehend. She was a radically efficient killing machine, with exploits which others spoke of only in rumours.
She, for her part, ignored the rows of trembling underlings. It was a long and tiresome journey and she needed something to brighten her mood. Reaching the elevator, she walked in casually, scaring the poor crowd of Saiyans travelling with her. They rushed out at the next level, preferring to use the stairs.
The elevator doors closed. She sighed at the fearsome reputation that preceded her. Saiyans did not kill under two circumstances. Firstly, if the other constituted no threat and could be made into an obedient follower, secondly if the other was more powerful. It was a fact that virtually nobody on her planet constituted a threat to her.
Yet, she felt this uneasiness with the mass slaughter her kind revelled in.
"Hypocrite," she muttered at herself, knowing how many bodies she had on her own list. It was all for a greater good. It gave them their steady supply of slaves to keep or give to others at a price. Sometimes, even whole planets could be sold, if the request was such.
The bigger question was, why couldn't she feel the same arrogant pride and sadistic rush of satisfaction at doing her duty?
The doors opened. Eager entrants stopped cold in their tracks when they saw who they would be sharing elevator space with. It continued uninterrupted till it reached the top level. She stepped out and walked straight towards the large entrance in front.
It was an area for recreation, the only kind of non-destructive recreation they knew. Tables lined the perimeter of the room, filled with other victorious Saiyans boasting about their latest conquests. The whole room went deathly still on her arrival. She did not even acknowledge the presence of her fellow warriors, instead going to the counter on the far side and pulling a glass towards herself telekinetically.
"What's the special today?" she asked the petrified man on the other side.
"Arcosian blood," he replied fearfully.
She tilted her head to the side and her lips split into a curious smile.
"I'm half Arcosian as you know. Yet you want to give me Arcosian blood?" her shapely eyebrow rose a few millimetres.
"I'm sorry.." he began mumbling, only to be cut off by a wave of her hand.
"Oh well, I'm too tired to care. Give me a glass of it anyway."
Her glass was filled with the cool, clear liquid and given back to her. She dipped her tongue in the blood of her maternal ancestors. The taste was sweet and it had a strangely soothing effect on her. The Arcosians were butchered to near extinction by the Saiyans centuries ago. She remained one of the few who had their blood and did not live in hiding.
"What happened to this one?" she inquired, holding the glass up to her eyes.
"Captured on the last raid to that refugee colony in Sector 62A," said the knowledgeable server. "They took their time with her, giving me enough blood for my special of the day."
She swirled the liquid around for a bit before drinking it in one gulp.
The glass was obligingly refilled. She lifted it to her lips. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a commander loudly proclaiming his greatness. His subordinates cheered along at his grisly descriptions of his past campaigns. One of them egged him on to do something, she wasn't sure what.
She became aware of it a moment later when he sat beside her. He was at least a foot taller to her and had an obscenely large build. His face was scarred by years of battle and his gnarled fingers patted the table.
"I couldn't help noticing you were sitting alone," he said in a gruff voice.
Fasha ignored him and slipped her tongue into her drink. He started again, undeterred.
"I have made several female Saiyans squeal over the years. Do you want to squeal?"
She cringed at his obscene invitation. Intercourse held little pleasure for a female, mostly overwhelmed by the pain caused by the entry. It was preferred only for the sake of creating more potential warriors. He grinned, glancing downwards. Her eyes followed his glance to see his exposed member.
"Our offsprings would be powerful enough to make the universe tremble," he proclaimed in his intoxicated haze. It did not incite even a second look. She was content to stay impassive. Infuriated, his face clenched in a mask of anger.
"How dare you disregard me?" he bellowed. "I don't care who you are. No one ignores me."
Foolishly, he lunged at Fasha in his intoxication. Everyone else stopped their drink to stare. To them, he passed right through her. His bulk crashed to floor and his arms made contact with nothing.
In reality, she had moved away and back to her seat faster than their eyes could follow. Her power level also imbued her heightened speed. To her, everything happened in slow motion, each instant suspended in time and stretched to an eternity.
The commander rose once more, his pride wounded. His arrogant swagger counted for nothing in front of the legendary Fasha.
"All you live off is rumour of strength," he shouted. "No one here has seen any of your might. You're weak. You only have stories to hide behind."
Even as he said it, flames licked his body. He was powering up. A fiery halo engulfed his being, causing all the others nearby to cower in fear. She calmly took another sip from her drink, seemingly oblivious to him standing behind her.
"No one," he stressed, still inebriated. "No one ignores me."
His thick arms encircled her, not perturbing her in the least. He smiled wickedly at the things he had in mind for her, confident that the façade of her power had been broken.
There was a sickening splat. Everybody blinked, then looked on in horror at the sight before them. Fasha continued with her drink as if nothing was amiss. Behind her, there were pieces of a Saiyan commander. He seemed to have burst from the inside out. Flecks of flesh, tissue and tendons stuck to the walls. His viscera was plastered in an ugly swath on the ceiling. Bloody entrails hung loosely off the table tops.
The one who had egged him on saw his erstwhile commander's eyeball floating in his glass. Even the hardened killer inside him was shaken by the sheer brutality. No piece of him remained bigger than a few inches.
She calmly finished her drink, not caring about the searching gazes fixed on her.
"Get the mess cleaned up. Maybe Saiyan blood will be your next special," she said derisively, strolling out of the doors. Her earpiece lit up with an urgent message.
"King Razak wants to see you in the palace."
The vast citadel stood atop a cliff, overlooking a sheer drop. The palace was imposing in its build, with lofty towers going into the sky. It was made separate from the technological structures around it, carved out of stone.
Fasha hovered above it, thinking about the reasons why she could have been called. Her gut told her it was probably a new mission. Shaking her head, she glided down to the tall gates of the palace.
Elite guards lined the hallways. The palace was lit by several stationery energy sources. They cast a glint on their armour. She never bothered with any, being too powerful for any kind of attack.
The throne room was largely empty. Atop the tiered pyramid, on his high piked throne, sat Razak, ruler of all Saiyans. He eyed her from above, his thin lips curling into a smile.
"Fasha," he croaked. "Good to see you again."
"Good to see you too," she replied coldly. "..father."
In a flash, Razak was right beside her. His thin fingers curled around her face. His face was hideously framed with bulging eyes and a long scar across his right cheek. No male Saiyan was particularly good to look at, but he was worse than average.
"I have a very important mission for you."
She did not even react. Her demeanour remained placid even as the details were told.
"Our remote scouters have detected a planet in Sector 102. It is farther out than we have ever gone," he said in his icy cold voice. "The planet is rich in resources and has a population that can be gainfully employed here."
"You mean enslaved and killed," she shot back. "Just like my mother and the other Arcosians."
"Now now," he said, with a mock gentleness in his tone. "No need to get emotional. What happened with the Arcosians was strictly business. We needed them."
She digested the words. He went on.
"Besides, you are a Saiyan, the strongest race in the universe. Add to that the Arcosian intelligence from your mother's side."
The possibility lingered in her mind. Could her Arcosian genes be responsible for the unusual feelings she experienced? She resolved to think about it at a later time.
"Go to this planet and subjugate the people. Our sensors find that the local population is no match for any Saiyan might, much less yours. They look much like us, meaning they can see you as one of them."
"Then send someone else," she retorted.
"No," he said firmly. "We need someone with your intelligence to convince them not to fight their fate. Every being killed is a slave less for us."
She stood back, watching her two half-brothers make their appearance through the side entrance.
"The coordinates have been programmed into your space pod. Leave as soon as you can. The main army will arrive about two years time after you reach. Plenty of time to establish a dominion there. We will come and start distributing the new slaves amongst ourselves. You can have your pick."
She did not want to be in his presence any longer. His words sickened her, for a reason she could not understand. All other Saiyans would lick their lips in anticipation of what he had asked of her.
Before she could leave, Fasha felt her younger half-brother Ormandz sidle up to her.
"Do it well, sister," he whispered. "Give me a good slave and I will give you an offspring worthy of your lineage."
Fasha knew that she was as strong, if not stronger, than both her siblings. Maybe even more than her father. She could feasibly try to annihilate them and become the sole ruler of the vast Saiyan empire spanning several galaxies.
But she couldn't. The Arcosian genes made her weak. It gave her a sense of filial bonding unheard of. Saiyans were barbaric and did whatever it took to rise through the hierarchy. Razak himself had come to power by slaughtering his father, mother and siblings. Fasha, for some reason, felt shackled by her weakness.
She walked out of the palace towards the launch pad once more. No one had any idea about the complexity of thoughts in her mind. It went beyond the typical Saiyan cycle of eat, sleep and destroy. Fasha had the incredible might from her father's side, but a whole vista of emotions from her mother's she could not come to terms with.
Her pod was a private craft, only for her. It had enough space for her to lie back for the long journey up ahead. The coordinates were towards an uncharted part of the universe. It had an intelligent system which would come in handy. The remote scouters had recorded the language spoken by the inhabitants, something she would learn along the way.
The solitary window offered her a constricted view. The dim light inside cast half her face into darkness, her pale skin coloured red by it. Her blue irises glowed in the light. The ramp was once again extended into space. Technicians cleared, readying the pod for take off.
Her pink lips pursed, her mind lost in thought. The pod ejected out from her planet and raced through the cosmos at warp speed. She threw her head back into the padding as the system beside her sparked to life.