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Post by Cayle Pota on Aug 31, 2019 20:14:27 GMT -8
Deep within the recesses of his mind, Kayle was back home on Planet Vegeta. The original, per-destruction Vegeta, when it was still called Planet Plant by half of its population and when the war against the Tuffles was ongoing. As his body in the real world lay frozen in cryogenic goo his mind was still kept active by the systems of the stasis pod, as it had been for decades bringing him in and out of dreams.
In this one, it was more of a nightmare.
His brothers and sisters were out farming the family farm with their mother when their father was away on militia training, and despite being barely more than children they were working hard at the tasks of tilling the soil, pulling up weeds, and watering the various vegetables and plants which would bare fruit.
His little sisters were singing as they worked, and while his brothers and him tried to be 'adult' and thus 'serious', which meant despite the fact that his brothers threw dirt clumps at one another from time to time, they didn't sing.
He did neither, being the oldest and thus expected to work hardest and to keep watch out for Predators. Which he was doing when he began to hear the strange wail of a klaxon in his ears. It confused him as he had never heard such a howl in his life from a beast, and while he looked around for the source he heard it again and again.
In the real world his body trembled, twitched, and spasmed against the gel which was holding it. As the gel began to drain with the emergency protocols for the facility being activated, his body began to awaken – but where his body was had nothing to do with what his mind was focusing on.
In his mind, he was still at his family's homestead upon Planet Vegeta. As Klaxon's continued to go off, the strange howl made him stop farming and stand up, on edge. The then eight year old Saiyan powered up as much as he could, to the mighty sixty power level, and looked around for the predator that there step foot on his family's homestead.
The beast he found was a strange bipedal creature with tiny arm-canons beside it, and the creature was entirely made of metal. After a moment, he realized it was a machine, and soon he saw it began to fire blasts of energy from those canons. Cackling Tuffle special operatives with their energy rifles followed suit, coming out past its view, and Kayle screamed, powering up to his limits – pushing his body above and beyond its normal limits as his brotherly need to protect those younger than him came to being. The strange howling, the screech of klaxons, continued.
As the gel reached his knees, where the mind went the body followed. As he powered up in the dream and the Klaxons continued, his body began to awaken its long dormant ki and power up in the physical world as well. As the lullaby of beeps and the rooster's call of the alarm klaxon continued, his body began to tremble and spasm once more.
He saw the enemies fire upon his siblings and his body trembled in his dream. For a moment he was his physical self, not the child he was when in his actual history his homestead had been attacked and he, and his siblings were taken, even as his mother fought valiantly to save her children.
He roared at the top of his lungs, gathering up all his infantile rage and the eight year old dissipated as he powered up the young man who he had become after years and years of testing, experimenting, and training under the likes of Dr. Aspic and the other members of the Tuffle Science Executive who had ordered the assault on the homestead of Kayle's family and any other potential low lying Saiyan homesteads during the height of the Tuffle-Saiyan War for the Planet Plant.
As he transformed into his self in his dream, he powered up the largest energy blast he could muster and charged as the metallic beast – that mechanical monster, and fired it.
His body followed his mind in this and as the gel coalesced at his shins, as the Klaxons continued their siren call, his hands came together and his energy built up. The Saiyan's body trembled as long slumbering muscles and ki awoke and soon he threw a blast of energy that shattered the machine and several machines near by, from computers to automated turrets which were trained on the cryostasis machines to make sure no Saiyans escaped – alive.
It shook the bunker like building which held the science facility, and it shook Kayle's still unconscious body too. With a sputter and a cough his breath mask came off and the dark brown haired Saiyan stumbled forward.
“Intense non-atmopspheric heat detected. Evacuation suggested. Evacuation suggested. Volcanic eruption from Mount Habanero expected within t-minus ten hours. Evacuation suggested. All personnel, evacuation suggested.” a not-prerecorded, but rather AI generated, somewhat robotic voice chimed again and again and again as Kayle stumbled. It only increased the headache that he had, but the Saiyan did not let himself be effected by more than the noise.
He fell to his knees once again, and lay there coughing for a moment when he noticed the corpse of a stranger, an adventurer long gone, in the distance from him. A scarf like cloak, pants, boots, a satchel, gloves, a shirt, all the clothes he would need to be able to survive in something but savagery when he escaped. Things which might let him escape without being so obviously an escapee of this facility. Saying a silent thank you over the figure, the Saiyan peasant turned living test subject of the Tuffle Science Executive began to strip their clothes from the corpse, dust them off or beat them against a nearby piece of furniture, and then redress in them.
His head throbbed from the klaxons and the repeated warning. His stomach rumbled in hunger. Despite that, he could not allow himself to hesitate. There were no Tuffles here, there were none of their technology aimed at him. They had not forced a shock collar on his neck as he awoke. He could escape, he could potentially save his friends and family while he did so.
He took the first steps to doing so, walking towards the exit to the laboratory room he was in, making sure that there were no other pods left unthawed in it, then he hit the buttons to exit the room. When that didn’t work, he pried it open with his bare hands, placing all the force he could into his fingertips and fingers and pushing with his whole strength, tensing his body especially at his shoulders as he did.
[1149]
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Post by Konja of Clan Korm on Sept 1, 2019 1:47:16 GMT -8
{{Secure Remote Request: Access Facility Aspic-03, Cryptosleep Storage Section 6.}}
<<Request granted. Welcome, guest1681.>>
{{Request: Status Report on structural integrity, personnel, security measures, and specimens.}}
<<Request granted. Status report on Cryptosleep Storage Section 6:.>>
<<External Housing: 71% Damaged. Reason: Destruction of Lunar foundation. Impact on foreign stellar body. Exposure to indigenous environment. >>
<<Internal Primary: 26% Damaged. Reason: Destruction of Lunar foundation. Impact on foreign stellar body. >>
<<Personnel Status: 0 Registrants. Reason: CSS 6 has been converted to full automation 1,840,822.2 hours previous. Personnel were reassigned immediately after.>>
<<Security Status: 4 x MA-21 Mass Driver Turrets. 2 Functional. Reason: Maintenance Failure. 1 x TA-29 Charged Particle Turret. Non-Functional. Reason: Maintenance Failure.1 x RA-151 Autonomous Combat Suit. Non-Functional. Reason: Maintenance Failure.>>
<<Specimen Status: 7 Registrants. 6 Terminated. Reason: Power Conservation. 1 In Stasis: SSFO-43/ASP3.CSS06.C04 in accordance with Tuffle Science Executive Order 3322: “Pickle Jar”.>>
{{Request: Specimen Overview on subject SSFO-43/ASP3.CSS06.C04}}
<<SSFO-43/ASP3.CSS06.C04 was acquired early during 2 IB following its attempted raid on Installation Mangifera-08. Subject was immediately transported to Facility Zinray-05 for experimentation.>>
<<SSFO-43/ASP3.CSS06.C04 is prone to subversive activity and violent resistance to facility authority. Its rebellious activities, 6 incidents in total, have resulted in 13 casualties among security staff, including 4 fatalities.>>
<<SSFO-43/ASP3.CSS06.C04 was utilized for early █████ prototype tests. [REDACTED] capacity was altered to promote superior vital energetic production.>>
<<Attempts to curb SSFO-43/ASP3.CSS06.C04's aggressive tendencies by tail excision and [REDACTED] have failed. Subject remains violently aggressive and may be developing mental idiosyncrasies.>>
<<SSFO-43/ASP3.CSS06.C04 was placed into Cryptosleep in late 8 IB and shipped off to Facility Aspic-03 for long-term storage by order of Colonel Weetsop, A., Service Number TAC-18773257.>>
{{Imperative: Executive Override of TSEO.3322.}}
<<ERROR: Imperative requires Authorization of Field Grade or higher. Please repeat instructions and state your Authorization.>>
{{Imperative: Executive Override of TSEO.3322 by authority of RE.17153.}}
<<Verifying Authorization of RE.17153… Confirmed. Royal Edict 17153: ISLET is granted executive authority over all surviving Tuffle Kingdom assets and personnel, inclusive of assets under the purview of the Tuffle Science Executive.>>
<<Imperative acknowledged. Initiating Executive Override of TSEO.3322 by authority of RE.17153…>>
<<Completed. System is now on standby for further instructions.>>
{{Imperative: Execute TSEO.3323: Compost Heap on remaining specimen.}}
<<Imperative acknowledged: Executing TSEO.3323 on Subject: SSFO-43/ASP3.CSS06.C04…>>
<<Imperative in progress...>>
<<Disabling life support…>>
<<Initiating purge mechanisms…>>
<<Awaiting further instructions.>>
{{Imperative: Execute TSEO.3333: Recycle Bin}}
<<ERROR: Execution of Imperative requires Security Key of Flag Grade or Higher. Please repeat instructions and state your Security Key.>>
{{Imperative: Execute TSEO.3333: Recycle Bin. Security Key: “Still Life Fruit Basket”.}}
<<Verifying Security Key: “Still Life Fruit Basket”… Confirmed.>>
<<Imperative acknowledged. Executing TSEO.3333 by clearance of Security Key: “Still Life Fruit Basket”...>>
<<Cryptransmitting all database files to Secure Hyperserver Loquat-380…>>
<<Completed. Initiating total wipe of database…>>
<<Completed. Deactivating fusion core failsafes…>>
<<Completed. Initiating fusion core overload...>>
<<Completed. Arming capture-prevention failsafes…>>
<<Completed. Self-Contained Liquidation charges armed.>>
<<WARNING: This section will self-destruct in t-minus 300 seconds…>>
{{Secure Remote Request: Log Out and Clear.}}
<<Request acknowledged. Logging Out User: ███████████.>>
<<Thank you for using TSENet, Your Excellency. Please come again.>>
<<Clearing all access logs…>>
<<Completed.>>
“Six years,” the Tuffle who called herself Colonel Weetsop stood with her back to the captive, hands clasped behind her as she spoke. Long white hair flowed out from underneath her peaked cap, and down to her waist. “We’ve been very patient with you, No. 43. And yet, you keep on causing trouble for this facility.”
Konja remained silent in her defiance. She would never acknowledge being reduced to some mere number. Instead, she continued to stare daggers into the officer’s back, imagining how she would break her tiny fingers one at a time…
“Oh, that’s right. You refer to yourself as ‘Konja of Clan Korm’,” the colonel went on with a certain condescension, paying more attention to the machines flying past outside her window, peeking into a large hangar. “Well I suppose it doesn’t matter either way. I called you here not because you caused half a million credits’ worth of equipment damage and injuries, but because I’ve decided to ship you off.”
Konja continued to stare. Shipped off. To where? Did that mean there were other facilities? The staff and guards had been very secretive regarding everything concerning the facility’s whereabouts. She didn’t care, really. All she had to do was lead one successful revolt, and they could get out and find their way back to Saiyan territory.
“Facility Aspic-03,” at this point, it was starting to become clear that the colonel had no interest in having a conversation. Not an ounce of respect. She was pronouncing a sentence, not speaking to a person. “Southern Quadrant. A nice, empty moon, where they send all of the refuse of the program.”
Southern Quadrant? Then it was somewhere south of here? Good. Konja nodded to herself. She was starting to get directions. She didn’t understand what the Tuffle meant by an ‘empty moon’, probably some strange event in the sky, but it didn’t matter. Korm Village was in the south too, along the edge of King Vegeta’s kingdom. Conflicts with neighbouring clans were common, due to their rule by other kings, but those were settled easy enough by tournament… She could break out of this facility and find her way home in that case.
“Though I do wonder,” Weetsop finally turned around, and her crimson eyes met with Konja’s dark ones. “What kept you so stubborn? Is it your warrior upbringing? I was pretty sure we adjusted the regimen specifically to break your type down. Tell me, Konja of Clan Korm: why do you continue to resist?”
Konja stared back for a few moments. She was speaking to her now, rather than at her. The reason really was a simple one, though. “Assurance,” the Saiyan opened her mouth. “The assurance that one day, soon enough, the King and his army will finish what they started. And I can’t be the only one who didn’t do her best, just because things are different for me.”
The colonel smirked. The condescension was so thick you could probably cut through it with a knife. “I think you’ll find that to be a rather misplaced assurance, my dear Konja.”
The Saiyan’s eyes narrowed as her fists clenched. There was something about this Tuffle that bothered her. She didn’t understand just why, though… Still, that didn’t mean she shouldn’t continue to resist. ”You underestimate my resolve.”
The Tuffle’s expression didn’t change. “I’m afraid you simply do not understand the situation you are in. It doesn’t matter if your king and his army triumph. We are beyond their reach.”
Konja scoffed. ”You really do underestimate us Saiyans. They will find this place, no matter how well hidden it is. Our sense of smell can find anything in the world! No Tuffle is beyond their reach!”
Weetsop only shook her head. “If you didn’t catch my drift earlier, then let me explain… We are not on Planet Plant. We are on another world, one of countless ones you see in the sky and mistake for stars.”
Other… worlds? Oral tradition said that they had come from another world, Sadala, back in the old times, countless moons ago. Was the colonel saying that the Tuffles could travel between worlds? ”You lie!” Konja’s hands balled into fists as she attempted to rise from her chair, only to be zapped back into her seat. She grunted, smoke rising from her cooking skin.
“Ah, it seems I’ve finally gotten what I wanted,” The colonel chuckled. “In the end, you truly only were just a monkey. One who couldn’t comprehend just how hopeless her situation was.”
Konja rose again, and once more, the lightning burst from the cuffs binding her wrists. ”It can’t be…!”
“Very well,” Weetsop motioned to one of the guards standing by the door. “I think we’re done here. Take her to a Casket No. 4, life support disabled. Draining biogel.” and load her up. Maybe if she causes enough trouble for Aspic-03, they’ll termination procedures initiated. her and save us all the trouble.”
Konja stood just as the guards touched her shoulders. She’d studied these cuffs for years, and had quietly learned the timing for when certain restrictions worked or not. And for years, she’d feigned ignorance of learning that factor, waiting just for an opportunity as this.
The cuffs did not spew lightning.
The guards stood dumbfounded, for only a fleeting second, she was sure. Just enough time for her to make her move.
The Saiyan tackled one into the floor with her shoulder, while taking the other one down with a spinning kick midair. She landed with her legs split , hands still cuffed together, opened up with fingers keeping her from stumbling into the floor. Perfectly balanced, as she stood back up and approached the colonel, who continued to eye her with cold regard.
”You will not be taking me away from my home!” Konja shouted, grabbing Weetsop by either side of the collar. ”And you will not be having me killed like some gip!”
“You still don’t understand the depth of your predicament, my dear,” by now, it was clear that she towered over the Tuffle, even considering the ridiculous hat she wore on her head. But the colonel was not shaken, even when her neck could easily be snapped. “You won’t resolve this with brute force. We’ll immerse you in biogel drainage completed. Applying Herbicide solution and you’ll never wake up agai-”
Konja dragged the colonel to the door and shoved her face into the wall, right next to the control panel. ”Call them. Call your men and bring me home.” She was so close to freedom. It was just outside that door.
Weetsop pushed a button on the panel. A holographic projection of the security room staff appeared, all looking very distraught. “Colonel! We-”
“Stay calm. Open the door.”
“But the subject-”
“Open the door. Or I will do it myself.”
“We can’t, Ma’am! It’s policy!”
Konja growled and pressed her captive’s face deeper into the wall. ”Say it!”
“Door override. Weetsop, A. Security Key TACSK-2517894-N21.”
Konja dropped the colonel to the floor as the door slid open, sending a dizzying light into the room. She squinted as her eyes attempted to adjust, taking the first step outside to freedom. It was eerie, a strange wet sensation permeating her skin as she took another step, this one over the threshold. She almost tripped as her foot touched a cold floor covered in a thick dust.
When she opened her eyes again, she did not find a hallway full of armed Tuffle guards as she would have expected. Instead, it was a dim, barely lit space, lined with pods. Pods that brought back flashes of memory that seemed confusing, at first. Vivid images of these pods. Of struggle with the guards… failure, and finally…
She turned around to face the way she came, half-hoping that she would see the door to the colonel’s office, with the bodies of the guards laying about, and the smug little Weetsop glaring at her from below. This was just a trick, right?
But no.
Konja stared at an empty pod, the door having just opened. Insides still wet from this so-called “biogel” that they kept talking about.
Now it was clear. That was a dream. A beautiful dream, too. A dream that had gone on for… days, months, years... who knows how long? Of the regrets she had, the things she would have done to escape that day. She had hesitated for just a moment, just a second too long, so that the guards were able to take her away and put her in the pod. Still having been preoccupied with the idea that she was worlds away from home.
So this was Aspic-03. And based on the dust, and the darkness… the dessicated Saiyan corpses in the gel-emptied pods… It must have been a long time since they had put her away.
”WARNING: Self-liquidation protocol initiated...” a mechanical voice announced, echoing throughout the empty room. ”This Section will self-destruct in T-minus 210 seconds.”
Konja flexed… and that was when out of the corner of her eye, she saw the telltale red light of the Tuffles’ weapons, a machine that spewed metal at speeds so high they hurt. The red ray it used for aiming was normally invisible to the naked eye, but amidst all this dust she had scattered, the path was clear as day. A low hum of rising pitch told her it was preparing to fire.
She rolled just as the pitch reached its highest, when it sent a pellet screeching past. Or rather, it flew so fast that the screech could only follow. It slammed into the back of the pod… the… “pickle jar”, as she had heard some Tuffles joke about it before. The pellet exploded, sending hypervelocity shrapnel flying in all directions. And yet… the jar itself remained intact.
Why was that?
It didn’t matter right now. All she could see was that it was impervious to the weapon.
Drawing on what strength she could muster, yelling to bring out power that had been kept asleep for so long, Konja shut the pod and grabbed it by the sides, pulling with all her might. Behind her, she could already hear the mass driver turret whirring up again. Another loud yell escaped her mouth as she continued to pull, wires, cables, and tubes tearing as the bolts gave way.
With a grunt, Konja hurled the pod in the direction of the turret, smashing the latter into pieces while the former, still unscathed, embedded itself into the wall… She stumbled partially, almost falling to the floor.
”WARNING: Self-liquidation protocol initiated...” the machine continued to announce. ”This Section will self-destruct in T-minus 180 seconds.”
Konja walked up to the nearest door she could find. Trying to use what she recall of Weetsop’s code didn’t work, considering it had almost completely faded along with the dream. So there was the next best thing. As it turned out, they’d removed all of those accursed ki-suppressant restraints when they put her under. If she could pick up that pickle jar… then maybe she could do things like before.
The Saiyan channeled ki into her right fist until it began to glow. And with a loud kiai, she threw a straight into the sealed door. It didn’t even have time to fly off the hinges before it evaporated from the sheer force. A smirk just started to creep up her face when she saw that on the other side of the door was yet another one of those guns.
Her first instinct was to run straight into it and smash it with her bare hands, but a nagging feeling at the back of her head drove her to instead duck out of the doorway. She climbed the rickety, rusting ladder on the wall of the room, up to the catwalk, where the first turret had been… where the pickle jar had embedded itself into the wall.
She pulled it out, and, using it as a shield of sorts, dropped back down into the doorway, holding it between her and the turret. True enough, it fired, the pellet holding enough momentum to blow her and the pod halfway across the room… but it remained pristine.
Konja did not waste anymore time. Pushing ki into her legs, she sprang up at the turret, pod first, and smashed it into the hallway wall. There was nothing left after. It seemed as though the pickle jar would be of some use after all. The continuing wail of the klaxxons and the machine warning irritated her, although she paid heed that there were two…
One more immediate, for her room, and another, for the facility as a whole. A volcano. So this… moon… had a volcano? Sounded like fun.
The Saiyan picked up her pickle jar and held it on her back with one hand, as she walked down the hall. Two doors down, a voice seemed to call the back of her head… She didn’t understand what it was saying, but it felt like a desperate cry for help. Strange…
Who else could be trapped down here?
More out of curiosity than anything else, she set the pod down and pulled open the first door on her right. It was an examination room, something she was all too familiar with, as the Tuffles did things to her.
The examination table… the mysterious machines they used… The blinding overhead lamps. Now just a dim reminder of a gruesome past. Yet still they sent chills up her spine.
Konja stepped inside, as the voice called out again. From the table.
As she approached, the figure lying atop it became clearer. She was a short being, dead. Dissected. Yet with beautiful, smooth light green skin, palest white hair in braids. How did she remain so perfect despite her state? Did the dead not rot? And given the dust in this room, it seemed to have been a long time, as well. Did they just… leave her here instead of disposing of the body…? And yet she remained so beautiful, unearthly so.
Konja wouldn’t have time to know the answer.
The voice called out again. This time, from one of the lockers. She hurried and opened it up to find an ornate set of clothing. ”What…” A perfect fit for the beautiful corpse on the table.
It was only now that she remembered that she was naked. They had taken all of her effects. Her armour, weapons, even her tail... everything except her father's memento that she wore around her left arm. Konja had already begun to get used to that condition. But here was a set of clothes that seemed to have been the one calling out to her.
”You don’t fit, though…” she muttered.
Yet the voice nagged. Not with words, but it seemed, a feeling. What if she could just try it out?
Konja removed it from the case and hanger. Slipped it on. Gloves, pants, vest, belt, shoes... It was short, yes, leaving a section of her belly exposed. But other than that, it was actually rather comfortable. She blinked as she examined it more carefully. She turned to face the reflective glass of a hidden observation room. It appeared to have also changed into something simpler. None of the varied, colourful hues that implied its owner’s high standing.
Plain black with white trim.
What a curious set of clothes…
The warning went out again. This was no time to be paying attention to such frivolities as new clothing. It was time to leave.
Konja passed by the table to give the previous owner of the clothes a nod of thanks, acknowledgement, and stepped back out into the hall. Picking up her pod, she would continue her journey down the hall, in search of an exit...
[3300]
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Post by Cayle Pota on Sept 1, 2019 22:03:42 GMT -8
The klaxon’s continued their deafening wails despite Kayle’s best hopes as he exited the room and the Saiyan peasant tried to ignore it until the pain it was causing got out of his head. He tried his best but it almost made him unable to do anything but to stumble through the corridors after he exited. It was a lucky thing for him that the klaxons and his hunger were weakening his walking then because while the doors did not seem to open with normal force from him the auto turrets built throughout the place had no issue folding down from their holsters and beginning to fire energy blasts in rapid fire patterns. Being weakened and stumbling helped him dodge until he was able to find one of the desks in the halls which were normally used by security guards, and drop to his knee. Immediately, the Saiyan former farm boy grabbed the first of the metal drawers from the desk, hopped to his feet and began to spin on his heels before launching the drawer at the first of the turrets. He repeated this action six more times, until he was out of drawers, and then snapped the electric collar and ki inhibitors which they had upon him and all the other Saiyans. He had taken for granted having the natural strength of a Saiyan once again, but now that he had realized he had it he was not going to hesitate any longer.
Dropping to his knees behind the desk, he put the palms of his hands on the underside of the desk and then shoved, to bring the desk into the air as he stood and use it as a metal shield against the molten bolts of energy from the turrets. When he finally got close enough he catapulted the desk at the remaining turret before dropping to his knees and breathing heavily. He was so hungry, that had taken a lot of his energy out of him.
The dark brown haired Saiyan strode back down the hallway and back into the door he had entered, before searching around for something, anything which might help. He saw a satchel on the ground near the corpse- something he had missed before, and picked it up before digging through it to find a plastic bag of some strange brown and red meat which was in strips. He tore into it and the next thing he knew he had eaten two thirds of the bag. Only fear of when he would next eat stopped him from finishing the bag off. He put it back in the satchel and then went out of his way to tear the casings off the computers which were in the lab he was in and remove their hard drives as gingerly as he could.
He repeated this action over and over again until the room had all of its computers raided, and then he headed out to the next room. This time blasting the keypad off with a small burst of ki energy and remembering an image he had seen in his memory, a Tuffle who was being rushed by older Saiyans who had beaten the door’s pad off. The Tuffle had connected two colored cords together, and the door slid open, then he rushed to the other side and hit the buttons to close it from the other side.
Kayle Pota, son of Pota Potaset, was not sure if it would work or blow up in his face, but he wasn’t starving now and if this place was being hit by a Volcano, he would need to try his hardest now if he wanted to get anyone out of it.
The door slid open on the first try and he raided the next room of any hard drives inside after checking if there was any of his fellow test subjects or anyone else for that matter in the cryostasis pods known by the Tuffles so hatefully as ‘Pickle Jars’.
He continued this practice until his satchel was full of hard drives and he had been through a total of seven rooms. Now he stood at the parapets of the entrance to the next hall, and he hesitated for a moment before doing the same thing he had done so far. Energy blast, wire connect. This time he ducked to the side in the case there was a turret that unfolded, and soon found that he was correct as motion detection activated a few warning shots from the auto turret.
[755]
[1904]
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Post by Konja of Clan Korm on Sept 2, 2019 14:09:44 GMT -8
There were plenty of those weapons here, and yet no occupants. No living ones, at any rate. How odd that the Tuffles would abandon this facility so long ago, and yet leave their machines still running. Konja darted around a corner of the hallway and smashed a turret into the wall with her by now handy dandy "pickle jar".
She still had no idea why it was so particularly enduring, but this was not really something more in its favour than not. Back on the farm, she learned quickly from an early age that tools that broke too quickly were no good. One had to build tools that were strong and tough. Of course, we were talking about pre-industrial implements here, but she got pretty good at putting neolithic tools together.
When all you had was brute strength and some ki, you learned to become rather creative with them. So this pod made of some unknown sturdy material, capable of withstanding enormous amounts of fire, was indeed very quickly making its value known to its owner. That being said, if it lasted this whole time that she was asleep, it should have been no surprise that it was so tough.
One would think so, but so did all these weapons and they crumpled like leaves to a rake against this one's sturdiness.
So then the mystery of the sturdy pickle jar continued as Konja used it to smash any turret she encountered, slowly but surely making her way down the winding, confounding halls of this facility.
She darted in and out of every room she could find. After all, if the strange dead being could leave an interesting set of clothes behind, then maybe she might find other, more interesting things here. Or if she were luckier, maybe someone else who had been pickled up. But all she could find from her spelunking was examination rooms, some with corpses, others without. Some had loot to go with the corpses in the lockers, others did not. Said loot wasn't really any good though, from what she could tell.
And the growing maw in her belly, increasingly gnawing its way outward, was telling her that it had simply been far too long since she last ate anything. That monster Weetsop didn't even give her a last meal when she was taken away to be put to sleep. Something about their "biogel" reacting poorly to high levels of "blood sugar".
Didn't even explain what sugar was supposed to be, moreover why you would find it in the blood of a person who had just eaten.
Either way, Konja continued to search the various rooms. On occasion, she would also find a storage chamber like her own. Unfortunately, it just seemed that every last one of those other pods contained desiccated corpses. And with the volcano erupting very soon, all she could do was use her ki to start makeshift funeral pyres before moving on. Even then, it probably wasn't enough to burn through their pods, if hers was anything to go by...
She crushed another two turrets as she entered some sort of large central chamber, what some instructors called an atrium. It was the first time she had seen such space since... well, for quite a while, really. The lights were dimmed, however, and it looked more like one of Planet Plant's many caves, with the glowing fungus on the ceiling, but none of the spikes protruding either up or down.
As she made her way around the atrium, the yam farmer began to hear faint sounds of combat in the distance. Not just echoes of her own conflict, but rather, most definitely of somebody... or something... engaging the Tuffle turrets on their own terms.
Konja tuned her ears to the entrance of each hall - smashing a few more turrets along the way - and determined that this sound came from the one opposite of hers.
Pod at the ready, she destroyed these turrets with increasing efficiency. Even as her stomach growled and her body rebelled, her training allowed her to discipline both. There would be all the time in the world to find food once she escaped and found something to eat.
She turned around a corner to spot a turret at an intersection, shooting at something down the perpendicular hall. Who or whatever it was, they had not yet made their move. But they were doing a great job of drawing its fire. That made things easier.
With quick timing, Konja hurled the pod at the Tuffle weapon, crushing it completely and sending the debris flying off down the hall. With a satisfied smirk, she walked over to recover her new trusted tool and turned to face the person she had just assisted. Darkness didn't help much, but it was at least humanoid, and probably a man.
Now the problem was what to say. She hated starting conversations. That was so hard. What about an awkward joke? "Just like throwing rocks to clear the field for planting!" Was that even a joke? It was hard to tell, given how little time she spent on those. But better be true to yourself than make a fuss trying to be someone else. If Konja of Clan Korm told non-jokes thinking they were merely awkward jokes, then so be it!
[888/4188]
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Post by Cayle Pota on Sept 2, 2019 23:18:40 GMT -8
There was a slow, steady hiss from the release of pressure as the door which had not been opened in an indeterminate but no doubt long period of time, and when it fully moved out of the way for Kayle to enter the next corridor smoke visibly floated into the air. The Saiyan walked into the next corridor, which was a good deal colder, without another moment’s consideration but was instantly assailed by the chill of the air around him as a result. This area was much colder than the one he had just been in and it caused the Saiyan test subject to shiver for a moment as he stepped through the threshold.
It was then that he heard the voice of this strange woman, it was then that he noticed that he had met with another person- another Saiyan as he smelled her in the air, in his vicinity. The Saiyan farm boy was not sure what to make of that, before simply shaking his head. Throwing rocks which could be used to make tools would be a waste, but then again he had thrown plenty of rocks in his childhood.
“Closer to throwing stones at wolf wasps who have put their nest a bit too close to your homestead, but you aren‘t wrong.” where she might have thought it was an awkward joke he didn’t think it a joke at all before he turned to look at the figure with his full vision. Icy blue eyes from the Saiyan farm boy looked over her and then locked with her’s. A tingle went up his spine, it almost seemed as if he was looking at someone he knew as a child, but that was impossible. He did not know this woman, and he had disappeared in a raid when he was a mere ten years old.
“Well met, miss. I’m Kayle Pota, son of Pota Potaset, son of Potaset Potaset, son of Potaset Pota, himself son of Pota Onio, himself the son of Onio Pota, the fourth born son of Pota the Proud.” the Saiyan said it almost as if it was breathing, and his eyes widened after he had said it. They were words driven into him since childhood, for they were his true name, his true title. His father had almost decided to name the boy Pota Pota, but his mother had vetoed that possibility for a more balanced name. It had been decades since the boy could remember saying that in a cognizant way, and yet here it was. Said without a moment’s thought and without thought on the significance of saying it. The Tuffles had insisted he was Subject Number 23, and nothing but that.
“I’m glad to see I wasn’t the only Saiyan to escape the cryostasis pods which they had us froze in, but we need to hurry and look for the others. There’s a volcanic eruption occurring if you listen to the Klaxons and their warnings. He took a step towards the threshold and through it, not realizing the significance of what and who he had just met.
[517]
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Post by Konja of Clan Korm on Sept 3, 2019 6:30:10 GMT -8
Out from behind the door emerged a Saiyan. And the first thought out of Konja's brain was how he was oh so lucky. They didn't remove his tail. No, that wasn't how she figured out that he was a Saiyan. Sure, for most people that was the big giveaway, but she didn't even need to see him to tell. After all, that was the same thing she boasted about to Colonel Weetsop all those years ago. Saiyan smell was the best she knew. It served as a great help while hunting. Not that she knew too much about that, having gone on maybe two trips, but it was an essential. That said, there were other secondary signs, like his wild dark hair and sturdy form. Those blue eyes were extremely rare, though. Come to think of it, she'd only really seen them on one person before. See, there was this one boy from when she was little, one or two villages over from Clan Korm's holdings. Konja never had a lot of friends, but there was something about his precocious intelligence during that tournament that got her interested in knowing him better. What she most remembered of his features was that pair of striking blue eyes. But then what were the odds of him being the one, right? The man opened his mouth and gave the yam farmer a more appropriate illustration. Well... that certainly made the joke all the more awkward, given that it wasn't even recognized as a joke. She nodded gingerly at his correction, and was about to say something, when he went on to introduce himself. More than the name itself, or the lineage from whence he came, Kayle Pota's mere introduction left an unforgettable mark. Somebody who paid so much attention to so many generations of his own blood. That was a standard to beat, that was for sure. She didn't even know who her grandfather was. She was too focused on the future to ask about the past. And now, that past was all gone. It was him. He was all grown up, sure, and she couldn't entirely fathom how he looked to be older than she was now, even though they were at the same age last they spoke... But the way he spoke, his pride in his clan, that was him alright. Kayle led the way, going on to fill in any blanks she missed, and she followed. "Kayle," already on a first name basis, instead of say, her usual formal full name basis, the yam farmer began to express herself. Because, after all, she had few friends. And the few she had, she valued. "Your village elders said you were taken by a pack of white fangs! But you're here too..." Konja ducked to get her pod into the doorway as they went down the hall. As he carried on, she'd continue, giving his shoulder a strong tap, more of a friendly slap on the back than anything. Of course she didn't know what a proper friendly gesture was like. "It's Konja, of Clan Korm. Who would have thought we'd find each other again like this..." She wanted to laugh, but the amused sensation was not enough to overpower her usual quiet disposition. Instead, she smashed another turret as it popped out of the wall behind Kayle. This was starting to feel like those days where they had to perform pest control. Cayle Pota [571/4759] |
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Post by Cayle Pota on Sept 3, 2019 20:41:00 GMT -8
The Saiyan peasant had never heard of such an explanation for his disappearance- had never even thought about what it was like to have had disappeared along with his siblings when he was a child, at least from the perspective of his family. The thought brought a twinge of pain and sadness to his soul but he shook it off before it got too powerfully in control of his emotions.
“I… I never heard of such a thing, but that isn’t what happened. Tuffle Special Ops forces attacked us when we were working the fields and dad and mom and uncles and aunts were out on militia duty. We couldn’t stop them, though I tried hard and we bled plenty fighting hem off. That’s probably why the rest of my village thought we were attacked by Whitefangs…”
The icy blue eyes of the Saiyan locked on this familiar yet strange woman before giving a nod. “It’s strange, a horrendous coincidence, but I’m glad to see you again, Konja.” he sounded genuinely relieved as he said it, and he smiled before giving her a smile. “But our reunion will have to wait before we really let it go. We‘ve only got so long before we are roasted in here based on that warning, and we need to, have to, see if we can find anyone else.”
“What about you… when did the Tuffles get you?” He said as he began down the hallway he had just opened the port to, picking up scrap as he did and using it as projectiles to hit the turrets with as they popped out of their casings.
Ahead of them lay seven doors on each side of the wall, and one door at the end of the corridor.
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Post by Konja of Clan Korm on Sept 4, 2019 7:00:05 GMT -8
One of the few predators back on Planet Plant that could be a threat to juvenile Saiyans, whitefangs were pack hunters and a constant threat to the peace of the outlying villages. It was the most feasible explanation for how Kayle and his siblings disappeared. But hearing the true story now only made Konja's free hand ball up into a fist, the brief smile she returned to her long lost friend fading into a grim frown. Konja learned from her cellmates that the Tuffles had abducted non-combatant Saiyans en masse during the war. But it sounded like they were doing it even beforehand. Kayle and his siblings disappeared a whole three years before it started. This was unforgivable. While she understood why the King would suddenly declare war on the Tuffles, this brought their despicable nature to even more light. "You must have fought endlessly like me," at least until they both got locked up in these pickle jars... "King Vegeta declared war on the Tuffles, three years after you were taken away. I joined my village militia and we were called up to fight." A predatory smirk found its way across her face. "We were made scouts. Ambushing convoys, sneaking into their lands to spot weaknesses, stealing their supplies. It was a fulfilling year... all that training, practise against bandits and wild animals... we finally put it to the test!"She closed her eyes, visibly relishing the time. When she opened them again, her expression had turned grim again. "I shouldn't have underestimated them. They captured me on my first lone mission. I was sent to spy on a suspected base. Turned out that base was keeping a small army of new machines they used... I was outnumbered and overwhelmed.""You're right, though. Our reunion feast will have to wait. If we survived, there might still be others who live... and unlike us, they might not have had the luck to just wake up." At this point, any turrets that appeared had become more of a secondary issue, a background annoyance that had to occasionally get swatted either by a ki blast, a punch, or even this strangely indestructible pod. What was important was that they clear out this facility of anybody still alive and pickled. It truly was a strange coincidence that they would both wake up around the same time. Was it because the Tuffles tried to kill her? At least, it seemed as though real life was leaking into the last dream she had. Her captor sounding just like the machine announcer at some points. Draining biogel and termination and herbicide... whatever the latter was. The first two, she had grown to understand enough from the context of what few "discussions" she'd had with the Tuffles. Well... there would be time to learn more about that. As well as for eating. Her stomach grumbled in protest at the extended period of time without food. The yam farmer grunted in annoyance as she continued down the hall. Later. Later. Patience... Cayle Pota[503/5262] |
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Post by Cayle Pota on Sept 4, 2019 14:17:39 GMT -8
Hearing Konja’s stomach rumble, the Saiyan farm boy pulled out some of the strange jerky from the satchel he had taken from the corpse of the adventurer who he had gotten his clothes from. It was hard, and tasted a bit old, but food was food. Who knew how long it had actually been there. Whatever the case, the dark haired young man gave a nod as he listened to Konja. All those facts lined up to what he had heard from the Tuffles while he was being tested on or used for menial labor here in the facility, they were eager for news of home and he was of course eager to find out about it as well. The other Saiyans never trusted he and the other Saiyans who had been abducted before the war fully, but he did not feel the need to bring that up now.
“I fought them, yes. Both with fists and with wits.” he mentioned, before beginning to stroll down the corridor and fire off blasts of ki energy at the turrets as they came down, as if he had memorized their drop patterns and speed, because he had. After they lay in wreckage on the floor he turned to the first of the two doors and spoke up. “Follow what I do so we can split up and dig through hese rooms as fast as possible. Take anything valuable you find even if it isn’t other Saiyans we find. Hard drives, food, weapons, armor.” he mentioned though felt a bit silly saying it. These were obvious things which they would need to survive and fight the Tuffles with, he thought, and didn’t need to be said, yet he had said it. After speaking up, the Saiyan former farm boy powered up and fired an energy blast at the keypad before connecting the blue and orange wires behind it. This jolted the door in front of him open, but before he stepped forward he reached a hand out and fired a blast of energy at the turret that popped down. Even after that was done, he did not step through, watching Konja. When she had finished, Kayle Pota would have finally entered this first room.
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Post by Konja of Clan Korm on Sept 4, 2019 19:13:27 GMT -8
"Ah!" Konja's eyes visibly widened at the sight of the dried meat. That explained the faint smell that seemed to be lingering this whole time. Kayle was likely rationing it for later use, but the unexpected discovery of a companion threw that one out of the window. Saiyan instincts kicked in, knocking aside any conditioning of manners, as she swiped the jerky and ate it with ravenous enthusiasm. Savouring every last little crumb of dried meat, she gobbled it down without even needing some water. Which would certainly have to come later. But for now, her stomach would have less of a reason to grumble. It didn't matter that it smelled and tasted old. Saiyan guts were some of the hardiest in the galaxy - not that she knew this or anything - and the yam farmer had eaten everything from raw meat to double dead spoiled foul garbage when she had to. Nothing went to waste, and when you were truly hungry, survival with a titanium stomach was better than what meagre preferences her tongue had to say about it. The smile of an occupied stomach went nicely with the satisfaction of hearing that Kayle indeed did not let his heritage down. Much as could be expected of the child of any proud warrior, the only solution was to fight, until the Tuffles eventually thought they were no longer worth keeping awake and stuffed into pickle jars. Rather odd that they would do so rather than killing them outright, however. Again, another mystery for another day. Konja nodded as her friend went over his instructions. They were to empty the place of anything valuable that could be used in the future to fight against the Tuffle menace... continue the war, so to speak, though she had to wonder how long it had been going on. The farm boy went on to demonstrate his intelligent method of opening the doors without having to tear them away every single time. It seemed like the smarter thing to do. After all, if they did that to every door, then even a Saiyan would eventually get tired, especially if all they had was that little morsel of stale dried meat. Hard drives, weapons, armour, and the all-important food. An army marched on its stomach, after all. Konja repeated the demonstrated procedure. She didn't, of course, understand anything about the theory behind why the blue wire and orange wire connecting would open the door. That was a Tuffle sort of reasoning, and therefore something she considered too tedious to try to understand. What was important was the practical application of knowing that blue and orange opened doors. The door slid open and she hurled the pickle jar at the first turret that popped up. There was just one question on Konja's mind before she stepped into this next room. "I understand we need to get all of these things to continue our fight against the Tuffles," she started, but her face twisted into one of confusion, "But what is a hard drive, and why is it important?"[513/5775]
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Post by Jack Pota on Sept 4, 2019 19:17:17 GMT -8
The loud sounds were heavily muffled, but the white-haired hybrid could hear the distant noises of the breaking of turrets and the control panel from within the blinding darkness of his sleep. Could someone be here, escaping? Then… I must awaken… Jack thought to himself as his eyelids twitched as he stirred in his nearly dreamless slumber in the freezing cold gel that was keeping his bare body in stasis. As much as he would like to be freed from his pod, he had his doubts that a Saiyan that had been captive at any facility would have any interest in releasing any Tuffle from one of the many “Pickle Jars” when there were other Saiyans that needed recuing in such a time of need. He wouldn’t harbor them any ill will if they did abandon him because the others were a higher priority than he, at least in his mind. Was that a door that opened just now? I wonder how they are doing…
The room that lay before Kayle wasn’t like any of the others architecturally for it was designed like a small lab and a study at the same time. There was a display with X-ray and circulatory images along with a CGI image that was labelled with markers for Jack’s Tuffle DNA and Kayle’s Saiyan DNA, representing that the gene splicing was stabilized. There was also a panel that monitored Jack’s vitals and procedurally generated a diagnostic of his current health condition and brain activity. The pod itself was in the center of the room with his outfit being worn on a mannequin in a corner of the room and was covered with a plastic sheet to protect from dust. There was also a small picture frame on the desk next to a computer that cycled through old pictures of Jack when he was a child, along with a few that included pictures of a younger Dr. Aspic spending time with the younger Jack reading books and playing a game of Chess. Although unmarked, it was quite clear that this room was Dr. Aspic’s Study; and the place that he had run unethical experiments on his own son after attempting to save the Saiyans. Despite all the evidence there was in the room to heavily indicate who the individual in the tank was, Jack was still referred as <GENESIS OF ULTIMA> or shortened to <G.U.> in all the data entries in the database. It was clear that he was the head doctor’s pet project to continue his quest to find exploits that could be used against the Saiyans, at his own son’s expense. Still, it seemed that the doctor never stopped loving Jack in the end, despite everything that had happened and his work taking priority over being a parent. Ultimitely, Jack’s fate was now in the hands of Kayle Pota now; either way, a new chapter in Jack’s life was about to begin. [488] Cayle Pota Konja of Clan Korm |
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Post by Cayle Pota on Sept 4, 2019 19:55:15 GMT -8
There was silent patience from Kayle as his female friend ate the jerky he had passed her. It was a meager amount of food but enough to get them through the moment until they could find a nice big beast to kill and roast. He did not bother to explain that part of his plan to Konja daughter of Clan Korm because it was an obvious end goal to any Saiyan. For now he simply made sure that she followed as he showed and then took a step towards the door he had already opened.
“Hard drives the brains of computers, or at least their memories. They look like this.” he showed her a hard drive he had already removed. “And they are inside the computer’s boxes. Be gentle with them, because we can use the information on them to find out what the Tuffles did, what their plans were, and how to go about things next.”
Then he slipped the hard drive back into his satchel and took a step through the threshold of the doorway, heading into the room. As the florescent glow of the automatic lights hit the room, a shiver went down his spine. He saw this room, and its desk, the pictures on it, all of that- well before he saw the cryostasis tube within it. Instantly he was brought to another time, to another place.
***
The bushy mustached Tuffle man slapped Kayle’s knuckles once again with a ruler. “Subject number 23, that is not what that letter means. We have been over this and I know you know.”
That photo was of Doctor Aspic, the chief scientist of the Tuffle Science Executive and one of the primary tormenters of the boy among the TSE. A man who forced the Saiyan boy to learn how to read both Saiyan and Tuffle, to learn mathematics and numerous other things just as a test to see how far a Saiyan with some slight intelligence could really be pushed. The Saiyan farm boy could have never known this but Doctor Aspic went out of his way to spare Kayle and his siblings from much of the harm that other Saiyans might have been given as a result of this, because Kayle was designated as a ‘primary genetic donor’ for the TSE. If they could splice his genes into the average Tuffle, they could gain the powers of a Saiyan without losing any of the intelligence of a Tuffle.
The Saiyan’s body twitched with rage and he almost went about smashing everything in the room, but he stopped himself. Instead, he walked over to the Doctor’s desks and rummaged through them, taking the portable expedition computer the Doctor had, as well as several hard drives and pocket drives. They all went into his Satchel and it was then that the Saiyan noticed the tube, its designation, the picture frame with Doctor Aspic and his son, and the image there. It was then that Kayle remembered seeing this figure before and after he became an experiment of the Tuffle Science Executive.
A dark part of his heart wanted him to destroy this figure without releasing him, but he knew that the figure had suffered some strange fate and the same pain he and his fellow Saiyans had. Further still as he looked at the words he saw on the flickering imagery within the DNA splicing example he saw ‘Subject 23: Kayle Pota of the Pota Clan’, clearly listed along side Jack Aspic’s name and the image of the DNA spliced.
Had some of his genetic material been put into this person? He needed answers, and he was not going to hesitate to get them. As his body shook with rage he pushed that rage back, sweeping at its feet with his will despite the fact it towered over his mental capacity in this hazy moment.
He hit the keys to unlock the cryostasis rig, the ‘Pickle Jar’, and to thaw out this figure. He called out to Konja as he did, “Konja Korm! You may want to come here now!” he shouted as he waited for the figure to thaw and mentally prepared for the potential battle to begin.
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Post by Konja of Clan Korm on Sept 4, 2019 21:10:39 GMT -8
Konja listened, nodding as she tried to absorb the information being passed to her. Kayle did more than explain what a hard drive was. He even held up an example of one, a thick, rectangular metal slab big enough to serve as a small plate if you were the sort who really needed a plate. No Saiyan was ever bothered by a lack of plates, of course, but that was beside the point. A hard drive was the brain of a computer. Those machines that made the strange sounds and showed all those symbols and images. The machines that somehow allowed the Tuffles to use their experimental equipment, and allowed them to control doors by mentioning strange combinations of words and numbers. The so-called Security Keys... While the very idea of taking parts of these machines gently instead of completely smashing them made her uncomfortable, she understood the need. Kayle was always the smarter one. He probably learned how to use computers, and if he could find out what knowledge was kept there, then they would be able to use that to continue fighting the war. Her voice trembling somewhat, she answered in an affirmative. "I see. Then I will get these hard drives too." Not quite enthusiastic, but enough that she assured him that these wouldn't be smashed entirely. Konja split away and walked into another room, destroying the turret before it could even fire. It was another laboratory, filled with various machines. This one also housed pods, their contents also dead. Although they weren't anything remotely resembling a Saiyan or even a Tuffle. Some sort of lizard of sorts... dead and desiccated, though. The yam farmer made quick work of the computers, prying them open easily and - as gently as she could - tore out as many hard drives as she could, stuffing them into her by-now-drained pod. Plenty of space to go around. No food in here, aside from a few of the Tuffles' packed snack bars that reeked of synthetic sweetness. But a Saiyan was not picky when hungry, and so she stuffed them into the pockets of her pants. They would come in handy later. Konja wasn't even half-finished when Kayle's voice called her from across the hall. And so, with her fresh batch of loot, she crossed over into the other room. It more resembled Colonel Weetsop's office, although far more decorated, and more of a hybrid laboratory than a place to coordinate military activities. As one could expect from an office, there were personal effects, and many reams of the thin sheets that Tuffles used to write on. Pictures of some Tuffle scientist and who was presumably his son, playing what looked like some boring Tuffle game that required you to think in ways that were nowhere near as straightforward or entertaining as "do you do a straight punch or an uppercut"... Although with age, she had trained enough that the entertainment of a fight had long become instinctive.
That wasn't to say that she was uneducated, though. One of the elders taught her to count money. It was a key aspect of trading, and as a farmer, she had to know how to make sure she was getting the right price for her goods. She just didn't know how to do bookkeeping because she could neither read nor write. Perhaps someday, when the war was over...
But Kayle had called her attention to a pod with what smelled like a Saiyan locked up inside. Still floating within the biogel. She, of course, had no idea what the writings meant to say, being illiterate and whatnot, but she was probably not entirely wrong to assume that it was a Saiyan who like the two of them, had been experimented on. "Oh, good! Another one. That makes three of us." [637/6412] Cayle Pota Jack Pota |
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Post by Jack Pota on Sept 5, 2019 9:25:43 GMT -8
It came to be that Kayle had decided to spare Jack’s life instead of hitting the kill switch that would end his life with the termination toxin. As standard thawing procedure, the biogel was drained from the pod and it soon became very apparent that he was forced to wear a shock collar and cuffs on his wrists and ankles to suppress any Ki he might have in addition to restraining him. The systems then started to read rising activity in Jack’s brain and a rising pulse as he stirred awake from the cryostasis. Once the biogel was completely drained, the respirating mask was automatically removed and the pod opened just in time for Jack to softly collapse on the floor in-front of Kayle. He groaned softly as he laid on his side and he struggled to sit himself on his bottom while he slowly opened his blood-red eyes to see who had come to his rescue, still somewhat wet and cold from his imprisonment. When he came around and his vision cleared, he saw the brown-haired Saiyan, now grown up, accompanied by a Saiyan woman with long black hair. Jack then became very self-conscious and quickly did the best he could to cover up his… indecency…with his left hand and legs as his his face practically turned a shade of red that matched his eyes and tattoos. He then desperately tried to remove the collar from his neck with his right hand, but he he failed to remove it himself while he continued to inadvertently make himself look like a hilarious moron. Through this comedic display, he whipped his head around and desperately looked for clothing to wear, and his eyes fell upon the mannequin in the corner. Good. At least he’d be able to get changed after his restraints were off. Jack then made another desperate attempt with his right hand and infuriated grunts to remove the collar, but it still wouldn’t budge for him. He then paused and stopped for a moment when his rational Tuffle side caught up to him with the realization again that they were likely short on time, and that the other surviving Saiyans still needed to be released. The sheer thought of it spread a pained expression on his face, and he briefly bit his lower lip. ”I’m sure you have a lot of questions for me, but it’s far more important to free the others still alive while there is still time. If it hasn’t been changed, the code for the keypads should still be 48265. Please, make haste. I’ll be fine…” Jack pleaded to the two Saiyans before him. Jack saw himself as expendable, but the other Saiyans, including Kayle and Konja, needed to survive to fight another day, even if it had to cost him his life. Truly, he saw the Saiyans capable of a lot of good and great things, but that plan relied on the continued survival of the Saiyan race; overcoming even extinction. [496] [984] Cayle Pota Konja of Clan Korm |
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Post by Cayle Pota on Sept 5, 2019 10:23:05 GMT -8
The words, “That makes three of us.” brought a twitch to the Saiyan farm boy. That was technically true, three living beings, and potentially also technically true as three people who had Saiyan genetics, but could it be said that it was true beyond that? He was not sure just yet as he watched the figure thaw, and spoke up. “This is not a Saiyan as you’d expect it to be, Konja. They spliced a Tuffle with Saiyan DNA. My DNA from the looks of what this screen says. So be ready, we don’t know what they might do, or if they might be on our side.”
Tuffles wouldn’t hurt their own people without a reason, after all. So Kayle thought at least, and he knew this figure had been tortured and tested just as thoroughly as the rest of the Saiyan living test subjects under the hands of the Tuffle Science Executive. As the Tuffle struggled with the shock collar, there was even more evidence of that, and Kayle walked forward before tearing it off of him with a moment’s built up rage and focus of his strength. He did not know how to feel about this situation or this figure, but for now he did not have time to think about it either.
“No, we won’t just leave you and rush to the other doors. You can come with us and we can cut down the time spent searching by a third.” The Saiyan said, before giving a shrug, “Not that rushing will do us a thing aside from helping us with the volcano.” the Klaxons continued to flare above them and around them along with the warning message. “Almost every Saiyan we’ve come across in the cryostasis tubes.” Kayle refused to use the slang Pickle Jar, “Had already been terminated. Hopefully it isn’t a system wide thing, but the mere fact that we are alive is a possible glitch in the system that was meant to go off much earlier. Or we’re lucky. Or there are others around, but whatever the case an extra pair of hands would help.”
The Saiyan then stepped away to allow the Tuffle to get dressed, not bothering to say a thing about it because modesty didn’t matter much to a rural Saiyan peasant, but he knew it meant plenty to city dwellers of both Saiyan and Tuffle kinds. When Jack had a chance, Kayle would have moved to walk out of the room.
“I’m trusting you, so don’t try to stab us in the back. I know they tortured you and forced you to be what amounts to a half-Saiyan, Jack Aspic.” he let the vocal weight lay on the word Aspic, as if he was using it as punctuation, and then he finished. “I am Kayle Pota, son of Pota Potaset, son of Potaset Potaset, son of Potaset Pota, son of Pota Onio, himself son of Onio Pota, who was son of Pota the Proud. You can call me Kayle, for now, though.”
Then the Saiyan stormed off from the laboratory-cum-office to begin the search with the numbers that Jack had given. He didn’t bother to show the keypads to Konja, because she could replicate his keypresses by watching him or continue opening doors with the method which he had shown.
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