“Glory! Glory to Komand’r, heir to the throne and liberator of our people!” King Myand'r announced to a vaguely familiar throne room. Now that I got a better look at him, I saw the resemblance between him and his daughters. Except unlike them he was built like a brick shit house, with shoulders so broad four of me standing shoulder to shoulder could fit inside the space.
A thunderous cheer rang out from the gallery before us while Komand’r made sure to show off her abilities, flying in the air while her eyes glowed violet. I could see that she was taking a personal joy out of being celebrated -- she had the look of a cat that was getting scratched in just the right place.
“Glory to Koriand’r, princess of Tamaran and liberator of our people!” King Myand'r continued, and Kori joined her sister in the air. The cheering was just as intense as it had been for Komand’r, and Kori seemed to feed off the good vibes. After a moment, King Myand'r held up a hand to quiet the crowd.
“My daughters have saved us. They ended a siege that had lasted for more than a hundred years, but they did not do so alone.” He said, and that was our cue, I guess. Raditz, Cabba, Caulifla, and I stepped out from behind the curtain as he continued. “These Saiyan Warriors joined them in their fight. They saved my daughters, the lights of our kingdom, from the Citadelians' hands when they were discovered on Okaara. And it is they who awoke their potential, granting the abilities that you witness!”
Honestly, the moment they saw that we were Saiyans was something like a bucket of water being splashed over a fire. However, King Myand'r managed to bring the crowd back, and now they were cheering just as hard as before.
If I was being perfectly honest, the whole celebration felt a little premature. A second invasion was under way. We had, at most, three months, and there was no promise of victory. But the King and Queen insisted on a banquet to celebrate the end of the siege.
Queen Luand'r was much slimmer in comparison to her husband. While Kori and Komand’r favored their father in looks, their size and most everything else came from their mother.
“Know however, that though the siege is broken, we still have many battles ahead of us yet. The scourge of the Citadelians will not leave us be. They have retreated to lick their wounds, but they shall return. And we shall meet them with fists and steel! We shall emerge victorious and our people shall once again be free!” King Myand'r shouted, throwing a fist in the air and the entire mountain seemed to shake from the intensity of the roars of approval. “But now is not the time to think of the battles to come. Let us celebrate the victories we have already had! Rejoice! Feast and be merry! Let this be the beginning of a new age for Tamaran!”
With that, the servants began to bring in platters of food piled high. Beside me, I could see Caulifla drooling at the feast. Even Cabba was eying them like a dog that had found his favorite bone to chew.
Almost as soon as the food hit the tables, it became an absolute free for all. Turns out that the Tamaraneans table manners weren't much better than the Saiyans. It was kinda incredible to watch as I remained in a seat of honor, next to the king. I glanced up at him to see he had an odd expression on his face as he ran a hand through an orange beard. He seemed unburdened, while at the same time being crushed under another weight that settled on his shoulders.
He met my glance with one of his own, “Thank you. For protecting my daughters. For giving us hope,” he said quietly but earnestly. He’d thanked us before, but this felt more… sincere.
“You're welcome. I just did what I felt like,” I said, not really sure how to respond to the gratitude in his voice. It ran deeper than doing a small favor for someone like holding open a door or even bailing them out of hot water at work. “Do you have a plan for when they come back?”
“We have waited for this moment for a century. It came sooner than we were prepared for, but we can adapt,” King Myand'r replied. “We have constructed a fleet of ships in secret beneath our ocean and mountains, as well as defense satellites that would forestall another invasion. They are not ready, but we have an opportunity to purchase what we need.”
“From who?” I asked, but it was probably a stupid question. His expression tightened and that told me my answer.
“The Trade Organization,” King Myand'r replied with a low growl in his voice. “The cost will be high, but we are prepared to pay it for our freedom. We will purchase the materials that we need from the outpost they maintain in the system… as well as our stolen people. It will be our only chance to free them while the… cost is low.”
Slavery. I clenched my jaw at the thought, turning my attention to the banquet to see that Caulifla was trying to fit what looked like a giant roasted chicken into her mouth before others could tear off any of the dozen drumsticks attached to it. I hadn't encountered it yet -- Planet Vegeta had too intense gravity for most species, and any species that could endure it was better used elsewhere. This… would my first real encounter with it. And the Trade Organization.
“You have done much for us, but I must ask for more, Warrior Tarble. The Trade Organization will not charge a Saiyan for Tamaraneans as much as they would charge their king.”
I didn't even need to think about it. “You can count on me. I decided to help you all out, so I'm going to see it through to the end.” There was something in my voice that made the tension bleed out of King Myand'r. He closed his eyes and a smile graced his face.
“Thank you,” he said again, and I grabbed a drumstick from a new platter and tossed it all in my mouth, bone and all. Huh. It even tasted like chicken.
“You don't gotta thank me for every little thing, you know?” I pointed out, making the large Tamaranean chuckle deeply.
“I shall keep that in mind for when you do a small deed for my people.”
…
Speed was a must for the gambit that King Myand'r had in mind. He wanted to hit the markets before the speculation about the outcome of the war began. Tamaranean slaves were already sold for a premium according to the data pad that I was given. If it looked like the Tamaraneans were going to win, then that price would go up dramatically as they would now be a rarer… commodity. Same for war materials -- when it looked like the war was going to heat up, then it was natural that price would increase as the demand did.
King Myand'r knew that the secret would already be out in the highest reaches of the PTO, but he was hoping that the news hadn't trickled down for more general sellers. And, as Saiyans were apparently a known quality on the station, he was banking on me being viewed as a random Saiyan rather than being at all connected to the Tamaraneans.
But that required that we move fast, so even before the celebration was over, I found myself in my Attack Ball, joined by Raditz in his. Through the window, I saw the PTO space station, which was in a stable orbit on the fringe of the Vega System. It was a giant pillar that had three rings that spun slowly around it. At the very top of the spike was a flat top, giving the appearance of a giant nail.
In the space around the station, I saw a grid of defense platforms that had guns pointed in every direction.
All together, the station was pretty huge. Miles long, probably around thirtyish, and about half as wide. The rings were harder to gauge, but each one had to be at least fifty to seventy miles long wrapped around the main station. It was a pretty incredible sight. And very busy too, as I saw numerous ships coming and going from it.
It was a reminder that I wasn’t dealing with the PTO of Dragonball. A nebulious disjointed army that was held together by Frieza. Heck, Frieza wasn’t even in charge of the mega-company conglomerate, or even of his family planet real estate business -- that was still King Cold, with Frieza and his brothers operating branches of the Cold-Force. This PTO was a galactic-spanning company first and foremost, and they parked themselves wherever they could make the most money.
As we approached, we received a hail and I was quick to answer it. “Greetings prospective customers,” I heard an automated voice say. “You are entering Planetary Trade Organization controlled space. Please state the purpose of your visit and identification codes.”
“Business,” I replied, forwarding our ship codes. “We are Saiyan Warriors looking for work, and to spend our credits.”
“Identification confirmed,” the automated voice replied. “Please dock at platform B-82, and enjoy your stay at Trade Station Vega! We wish you a profitable evening.” With that, we got a navigation point and our ships flew to it.
We flew through a static looking forcefield thing and I saw that the dock had a place specifically for Attack Balls. Raditz and I both touched down in one, and I noticed that there were five other Attack Balls on the dock with our ships. Which could mean that there were five other Saiyans on the station.
But that was less important than the task at hand.
Leaving the ships behind, Raditz and I started to fly through the dock and enter a service elevator. After a quick trip that took us up, the doors parted revealing…
“Woah,” Raditz muttered, looking a bit awed as we stepped foot into what felt like a supermall. On the base floor, there was a nice little park food court area, but I could see straight up through the pillar of the station. A massive holographic list of ads was playing dead center, but around it was a stream of hover cars and people flying. The walls were covered with various store fronts, all Trade Organization affiliated.
And there were aliens. Aliens of all kinds, shapes, and species. Some wore suits as the oxygen atmosphere was poisonous to them, some even wore suits filled with water as they were from an aquatic species. And the gravity was light, the lightest I had ever felt, even back as a human.
“Come on. Let's check this place out,” I said, nudging Raditz to close his jaw. We flew over the crowd to a screen displaying a map with a big blinking red dot on it that had the text ‘You are here’ next to it . There I saw that the whole station was broken up into various districts, complete with a housing district.
It was weird. Like, I was an alien. I visited alien planets in a spaceship. But it was only now that things felt… futuristic. Sci-fi, even. It was overwhelming, just a little bit. Enough so that I had to restrict my ki sensing, as there were millions of people on the station that just… lived in outer space. Even on Okaara, their capital only had a population in the hundreds of thousands, and Tamaran had even less.
“Let's get the war materials first,” Raditz said and I nodded, finding the relevant section of the station before we started flying up towards it. It was located in one of the rings, so after hopping on a monorail and taking another quick trip, we arrived and the doors opened up to another wonderland.
The hallways were flanked with gun stores of every variety -- ballistics, missiles, lasers, plasma, and all kinds of weird and funky-looking weapons that were made for every species and need imaginable. And every single one of them was shoving examples of why you should shop there in your face with video feeds of their weapons in action. Videos of active combat where aliens of every shape and size were being shot to shreds, dismembered, vaporized, or even turned inside out were all played on a loop.
Likewise, there were shops selling armor all the way from ceramic plates that could barely deflect a laser blast to power armor that they claimed would let you hit with the strength of a Kryptonian and survive an orbital bombardment. Selling the problem and the solution, all in one convenient location. Clever.
But it went beyond that. There were weapon platforms, gunships, starfighters, and more -- if something could kill, then I’m pretty sure it could be found on this floor. There was a hum in the back of my mind, a curiosity that questioned if these weapons could hurt me. If they were as powerful as they said they were.
Any other time and I might have shopped around a bit, but we came with a list, and we weren’t spending our own money. So, we went straight for the relevant shops, and got what King Myand’r asked for -- advanced electronic components, a subscription to high-end weapon control systems, a Class 3 combat AI, and a butt load of missiles. The price was good, telling me that word hadn’t spread far about Tamaran yet, and we even got a bulk discount.
All of it would be loaded up into a transport shuttle that we could tow to Tamaran, but for now we were off to the other side of the station.
However, as we made the long loop around, we passed by something of interest.
“That’s a lot of planets for sale,” Raditz pointed out, bringing my attention to a real estate kiosk. My attention went to the display, seeing various planets cycling on a hologram with… actually pretty affordable prices? Like, I could buy an entire planet for roughly the same amount that we had spent on all the hard and software we'd just bought.
A pink alien that looked to be the same species as Dodoria from Dragonball, just skinnier with a little bowler looking hat immediately perked up, “Are you two looking to get in the planetary real estate game? Now's the time to jump in on Sector 2814! You could get in on the ground level of the single largest development project that this galaxy has ever seen!” He said, and a quick glance at his name tag… I had no idea how to read alien writing, so I guess it was a mystery. It kinda looked like Dudo in Saiyango, though.
“Development project?” I echoed, surprised and a little unnerved. “Are these planets… occupied?” I asked, not sure if I really wanted the answer.
“Oh, no -- Sector 2814 has been depopulated for millions of years,” Dudo quickly reassured me. “The pirate Bojack and his crew depopulated it before they were defeated by either forcing entire species to join his crew or exterminating those that refused.” Bojack, huh? That could be a problem for future me if that defeat were him being sealed away and not killed like in Dragonball. “However, as of one thousand years ago, the statute of inhabitants no longer applies to the planets of the sector, nor does the Relic Stipulation apply to the remains of the extinct civilizations. Meaning that they are clear for development and inhabitation once more!”
I didn't know how to feel about that. That felt like… a lot. Like I just heard something kinda really messed up in a tone that didn't match the tone it was delivered.
“And the development project?” I questioned, making Dudo puff out his chest.
“It is one of Lord Frieza’s major development projects! We are selling the rights to planets throughout the sector, including development, mining, and agricultural rights!” He said and I saw the stars in his eyes. He bought into the propaganda wholeheartedly. “There is even a finance plan you can use, so long as you agree to some terms and conditions in regards to the overall development of your new planet! I can't recommend buying in now enough -- in a mere ten thousand years, that arm of the galaxy will be as developed and populated as the rest of the Milky Way!”
I couldn't lie, it was a little tempting. The idea that I could buy an entire planet for cheap, giving me a place that I could take all the Saiyan children where they could be raised without awe inspiring amounts of abuse… the idea did appeal to me. But the only money that I had was the money that King Myand'r gave me. And, despite myself, there was that thought on the back of my head that told me I could just steal it and buy a planet.
But the money that King Myand'r gave me was every last credit that the Tamaraneans had. Not just in the royal treasury or bank account. Every single Tamaranean had emptied their accounts and gave all that they had in an attempt to secure not only their freedom, but the freedom of those that had been taken.
And there wasn't a chance in hell I was going to betray that trust put in me.
“You have a customer, but it'll have to wait until I have the money to buy and develop a planet,” I said and Dudo visibly deflated even as he tried to keep his salesman smile.
“I'll be here!” He said, waving us off. But before we flew too far away, I couldn't help but overhear the whisper of, “...maybe one day I'll manage to sell one of these garbage planets…”
That was a little illuminating.
Raditz glanced my way, “You're really going to buy a planet? Why not just conquer one? It's free that way,” he remarked, sounding as if he was pointing out something obvious.
I didn't know how to reply to that, so I didn't. Heedless of my speechlessness, Raditz continued. “Dad says that he's going to conquer some planets one day. But he’s saving up for the development costs. He says too much of the Saiyan Empire is underdeveloped because we killed too many of the natives when we conquered them.”
I…
Damn.
“Smart,” I replied, my tone a little wooden as we continued to fly through the station. Raditz seemed pleased with the acknowledgment, but I really just had no idea what else to say to that. And that was a feeling that only continued when a set of double doors slid open to reveal our next destination.
The slave markets.
There was a lot wrong with what I saw. So much wrong that I didn't know where I could even start on what was worse. However, of all things, what stood out to me the most was how… regulated it was. Like they were selling tools or guns or even spaceships rather than people. In the holograms, I saw figures on display with prices attached to them. They stood in display windows in various poses, carrying signs for how much they sold for. There were even discounts, two for one sales, and more.
“We gotta be smart about this,” Raditz said, unbothered by the sight. “If word gets out that someone is buying all the Tamaraneans, then they're going to raise the prices. We can probably get a discount when we buy in bulk, but it's going to be the one offs that will be a pain.”
He was just a kid, I had to remind myself. He had no idea how supremely fucked up this was because he just didn't know any better.
I hated King Vegeta a little more all of a sudden. In fact, I think I was starting to hate the Saiyan race as a whole.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced myself to speak, “King Myand'r gave us a list of every known Tamaranean slave on the station. It should be up to date,” I said, my voice hoarse to my own ears, which made Raditz give me a curious glance. “Let's… start with bulk. Two stores at once. Then we can hit the one offs. It'll be… cheaper even if they do hear about the buyout.”
“Yeah, sounds like a good idea,” Raditz nodded before we split up.
Evil. Evil was one of those words that were carelessly thrown around until it lost its true meaning. It's weight. It was more than a word you used to describe something you disagreed with. Evil was more than that. It was something that was fundamentally wrong.
This place was evil. Every store here was evil. The owners, the providers, the Trade Organization who provided a market for them. Evil. One and all.
I could feel a simmering pot of rage in my chest as I entered a store, seeing holograms of various races on display, each one with a catalogue of specimens they had in stock. Wordlessly, I approached the Tamaranean hologram and started scrolling through, seeing that there were thirty Tamaraneans in the store's stock. Some of them children.
The pot began to boil but I kept a tight clamp on it as I made the selection. Confirming the purchases, I approached the main desk with the order.
A blue alien eyed me warily as he took it, “Would you like to-”
“Shut the fuck up,” I snapped. “They're part of this order.” I said, showing the ticket for the storage we got for the tech and weapons. The alien fell silent, scanning the ticket and confirming the delivery before passing it back to me. Wordlessly, I turned to leave the store and I was painfully aware of the other holograms. How many was I leaving behind? Hundreds? Thousands?
And that sick fuck was going to use the money I gave him to replenish his stock. It might not be Tamaraneans, but it would be someone.
When I left the store I was trembling with rage. My nails bit into the skin of my palms and my teeth ground so hard together it felt like they could shatter. The word mad didn't even begin to cover how I felt. The pot of rage was boiling over and I really started to think about it.
How difficult would it be to organize a slave rebellion? To free everyone on this station? How-
A fist hit me in the back of the head and I sucked in a breath. “Ouch! Who- Raditz?! What'd you do that for?” I snapped at him, nursing the goose egg that was swelling up.
Raditz leveled a look at me, his lips curling into a frown. “Tarble, you're our leader,” he started, catching me off guard. “Cabba will do whatever you say because you said it. Caulifla doesn't think ahead for more than two seconds at a time, and she's even more hot headed than you. So, it's up to me to knock some sense into you when you're being stupid.”
“Stupid?” I growled, clenching my jaw.
“Yeah. Stupid,” Raditz replied, not backing down. “You're the leader and you've always thought stuff through before, but you aren't right now. Do you even realize what you're thinking about? The fight you'll be picking if you piss off the Trade Organization? Or the consequences for everyone else, like the Tamaraneans? You think that they won't put two and two together?”
I cringed as I looked away, finding that I didn't really have an argument. But Raditz hammered the point home.
“If you do what you're thinking about doing, then the Tamaraneans are done. Not only would they probably be blacklisted by the PTO, they'll probably invade their planet themselves.” Raditz pointed out, and I knew he was right.
I was pissed. I was so angry that I could hardly breathe, but he was right. He was right and as much as I wanted to deny it, I couldn't. The consequences for this would be beyond what I could handle and they would affect so many more people than just me. If the consequences would just fall on my head, I'd do it in a heartbeat, but they wouldn't.
A slow breath filled my lungs and I heaved out a sigh, nodding my head with the greatest reluctance. “You're right. Thanks, Raditz,” I said, forcing myself to calm down.
Raditz gave me a lingering look for a moment more before he nodded, “Let's get this over with as fast as we can.” He saw that it bothered me, but I saw that he couldn't understand why. And it just broke my heart that he couldn't.
I wanted to blame it on him. That it was because he was a villain like in Dragonball Z. But I knew that wasn't the case.
I was the weird one here. Sympathy… just didn't come easily to Saiyans, I guess.
Nodding, we split up once more to continue freeing the Tamaranean slaves. I wanted to pop my top every single time, and I gained a whole new appreciation for the term ‘murderous rage,’ but I kept myself in check. Barely. The entire process was entirely too slow for my liking, and things only got worse when we were done with the storefronts.
Tamaraneans were great for physical labor, but they were also considered an attractive species by most. When we visited the stores that sold slaves for labor jobs, that wasn't so bad. But when we visited the strip clubs, bars, or brothels?
One thought became crystal clear in my head as we combed through the station, freeing every Tamaranean on it. It bounced around in my head, echoing in my ears alongside my thundering heartbeat. It was still there even as we left the station behind, with only a pittance of credits after word had spread and the prices skyrocketed.
‘I am going to kill Frieza.’
The Attack Balls were strong enough to pull the cargo carriers, even if we weren't half as fast. It gave me thirty minutes as we raced to Tamaran to fume and stew in the anger and resentment.
‘I am going to kill Frieza.’
Frieza had been a distant concern until now. His foot wasn't on the Saiyans collective neck, so it had kinda felt like he was someone else's problem. I’d hoped I would never see him, and I’d never planned on seeking him out. But that plan had changed. I wanted him dead. And I wanted to be the one that killed him. I wanted to be the one that killed his brothers Cooler and Frost too. And his father, Cold. I wanted to burn his whole family tree until there weren't even roots left.
My contest with King Vegeta was a nebulous goal. It offered plenty of motivation, but the finish line was less… defined. On the assumption that Frieza was as strong as he was in Dragonball, then he had a power level of 150,000,000.
15,789 times stronger than me.
It wouldn't be today. It wouldn't be tomorrow. But no matter what…
‘I am going to kill Frieza.’
The trip felt like a long one as we returned to Tamaran, passing through the field of wreckage as we sailed to the capital. The anti-gravity tech kept the cargo container in the air behind us as we touched down gently in a sea of white grass. As the Attack Pod opened with a hiss of air, I got out to see that there was a crowd of the capital’s inhabitants gathered up and waiting for us. Their expressions were impossible to describe.
They were hopeful that they would see their loved ones. They were terrified that they wouldn't. They were scared of the condition that they were in and the hardships they must have endured. And some felt all three emotions all at the same time.
Wordlessly, I went to the cargo container and opened it up with a squealing hinge, revealing the thousands of Tamaraneans we had freed. They winced at the light, their every expression one of confusion, with some of them ready to fight. However, in a split second, that confusion melted away into shock and then joy as they began to stream out of the container. The crowd rushed forth, people crying out as they saw members of their family or friends they thought long gone.
I watched it all from the side, and the heartwarming display only solidified my resolve. The freedom of Tamaran was something of a nebulous goal too, I realized. But now I saw first hand the consequences for failure, and they were utterly unacceptable.
King Myand'r approached me from behind, “You have earned my thanks yet again, Warrior Tarble. With them, our numbers have increased. We stand a chance, now. But… there is one more thing that could be done.”
I breathed in slowly, “I know that you're playing me,” I told him, realizing what had been done only after the fact as I watched a mother sobbing her heart out at being reunited with their children. I could see Caulifla, Cabba, and Raditz all watching the display with various degrees of confusion. “You want me to do what I did to Kori and Komand’r for more of your people.”
“... yes,” King Myand'r admitted with only some hesitation. “I fear that without that power, it may only be a matter of time before the Citadelians try again. If not them, then another.”
He was right. He was right and we both knew it.
“Well, it worked like a charm because I'll do you one better,” I said, knowing that this was a decision that would have some consequences in the future. What they would be, I didn't know. But I don't think I really cared so long as I never had to see something like this again. “I'm going to teach you how to do it.”
“This… is not a debt I could hope to repay. Not in a single lifetime,” King Myand'r said quietly. “But it shall not be for a lack of effort on our part. You will be- no, you are, forever a friend of the Tamaranean people, Warrior Tarble.”
And that was that.
…
The next three months were a blur of activity. The pressure was officially on, and I think everyone was feeling it. Even Caulifla, Cabba, and Raditz. They never said anything about it, but I think there was something of a shift in them after they saw the reunion. They never needed a reason to train or spar before, but now they felt especially determined.
But the people of Tamaran were even more determined. They just grit their teeth and dug deep, doing all that they could with the time that they had to prepare for what they all knew was coming. And things only picked up as the awakening of their potential began to spread. The rest of the royal family came first, but once they got the hang of it, they started spreading the ability around.
It still took the better part of a month for the hundreds of millions across Tamaran to gain the ability to fly and shoot starbolts, and even with the training that was necessary after, it only picked up the pace of the construction efforts.
A large fleet of starships was revealed from its underwater hangar, and the weapons systems we had purchased wereimplemented and the weapons armed. Meanwhile, when I wasn’t training with the others, I found myself joining in on the strategy meetings for how we would handle the invasion, and what fallback strategies we would have in case things didn’t go how we wanted them to. Which largely had me playing Warcraft, the RTS game, with the military AI that we bought, and I found that I won as often as I lost.
Beyond that, when I wasn’t slowly growing stronger in my spars with others, I was mastering my techniques. Or developing new ones that would allow me to destroy hundreds of ships at once if I could. Kori and Komand’r were there every step of the way, honing their newfound strength and applying everything that they’d learned from Okaara.
The pressure slowly mounted as we entered the third month, our estimates proving true. I wasn’t sure if it was done through spies, by hacking their systems, or if they had a really good telescope pointing in the right direction -- but you couldn’t exactly hide the kind of military build up that the Citadelians were doing. They had six fleets total, one of which had been parked over Tamaran, and half of that one got slaughtered.
Day by day, they drifted over to the Citadel, towards the center of the Vega System, as they shuffled garrisons around to keep from having to take their boot off anyone's neck while they gathered their strength. As I’d initially expected, two of their fleets gathered at the Citadel along with the remnants of their third fleet. They lingered for a handful of days, slowly building the anticipation as we all waited for the call that we knew was coming.
Then, all of a sudden, the combined fleet began to move.
And we were prepared.
I found myself in space once more, hiding amongst the salvage of the destroyed fleets. This time, I wasn’t alone. Millions of Tamaraneans were hiding amongst the salvage with me, spread out across the upper atmosphere in orbit, laying in wait for the fleet to arrive. My team was with me, all of us ready to fight, and I knew Kori and Komand’r were nearby along with their father.
We had to do as much damage as we could in space. Our best victories in the sims were the ones where they didn’t make it planetside. So millions of Tamaranean warriors were in space, ready to do as much damage as they could. And we were left waiting hours for the fleets to make their way through the system to Tamaran, but when they arrived…
I couldn’t say it wasn’t a little daunting.
“That’s a big ship. Do you think we could steal it?” Caulifla questioned, her voice filtering into my ear from our masks, pointing at the flagship of the Citadelians. The ships were hard to see at first, but as they steadily flew closer and closer, it got easy to make out the details. There were thousands of spaceships that flew in a layered grid formation, but at the heart of that formation was one big ship.
It was the size of a small moon, perfectly spherical, and it seemed to have either one big gun or a bunch of smaller guns. Or maybe both.
“It kinda looks like an eye,” Cabba noted, and I found myself nodding. There was a Death Star-like opening pointing in our direction that gave the impression it was an eyeball.
I spread out my ki sense, feeling the thousands and thousands of people on the ships. I had steeled myself for this part. I’d had months to come to grips with what I would have to do, and I had very good reasons to go through with it. This was war, and they were here to conquer the planet and enslave millions of people. There was absolutely no way that I was going to let that happen-
“Ah,” I uttered as five presences entered my range. They stood out like blazing bonfires in comparison to the Citadelians that they were surrounded by. “We have a complication,” I observed, my gut clenching when I realized that I recognized one of the presences.
Raditz seemed pretty confused when I looked at him, tilting his head to the side. “Whaddya mean, a ‘complication?’”
“Because your dad is fighting on the Citadelian’s side.”