Truth, Justice, And the FUN Way

Sheri. It was a nice name if a bit vanilla. Azuki had honestly been expecting something more outlandish or foreign when it came to the names of an Alien species she'd only heard of in stories before. Then again, looking at the Tuffle herself, it wasn't like they were much different from most other humanoid species minus the height discrepancy. Tuffles evolved short to deal with Plant's heavy gravity... probably, and Saiyans with their brutish strength could withstand it no problem. It'd be interesting to think about more if the two weren't engaged in a potentially genocidal war. Welp, not my planet, not my people, not my war. It was a bit heartless to say but Azuki had her own planet and family to look after. Getting involved in a war that had already spanned decades was a surefire recipe for disaster.

-

Sheri's continual reassurances caused Suki's own trepidation to die down a bit, a thin smile returning as she opened the door wide. She was tempted to make a joke. Something like 'age before beauty' but it didn't seem entirely appropriate given their current relationship. The Tuffle went in first as Suki trailed slightly behind, closing the door quietly behind them. The main entrance would lead into a small hallway of sorts with a set of stairs leading both up and down set to their left while an alcove containing an ajar closet was to the right. Pairs of disorganized shoes tumbled partway off a shoe rack, scrunched carpet beneath catching a few from their deadly fall. Different sorts of outfits filled the closet though there were more pairs of battle-armor type choices in there than would be expected of a regular suburban home. "Sukeru is probably downstairs messing with something and Tsuna would be in the kitchen right about now."

Herans and Saiyans held hearty appetites and Tsuna held a particular knack for cooking so she was often designated chef. In fact the faint smell of sizzling meat and a thick bubbling broth wrapped around the corner and reached all the way to where the pair were standing. If Sheri didn't move forward first Suki would take the lead, traipsing down the corridor which lead out onto a spacious area with several connected rooms. A living area with plush couches and a large TV quietly droning on with some sort of soap opera, behind it a small workspace complete with office bins and a computer plugged in. Set next to it was a large kitchen space with various tools hanging from racks and filling up holders. Three full refrigerators were place side by side with a dedicated large-scale freezer at the end of the row. The noises and smells of a meal in preparation grew even stronger now as they approached...

And humming contentedly at the counter, black tail swishing back and forth, was a Saiyan. Clad in the hybrid armor-dress that many Vegetan Mothers donned she somehow didn't look too out of place among a mostly earthen-based kitchen. "Hey mum." Tsuna turned, a smile already forming on her lips as she set aside the cooking for a second. "Hello, Suki! You made it just in time for late dinner. And is this that guest I heard you vaguely shouting about?" Tsuna's eyes passed over Sheri but held no sign of surprise or malice. No mention of her being a Tuffle, no hesitance despite the gun slung around the woman's back. If Sheri was using her sensing at this point she'd be able to detect that Tsuna and Sukeru both had power comparable to Azuki herself, nothing to trifle with.

"Suki," Tsuna's tone was light enough, though there was a trace of stern discipline laced throughout it. "You did tell our guest beforehand what the conditions of our home are like, yes? Some people don't do too well with certain arrangements." The hybrid seemed a bit taken aback, rubbing her arm awkwardly and struggling to form a coherent response. All too different to the initial bloodthirsty fighting machine she'd initially appeared to be. The older Saiyan shook her head, moving towards a device on the far side of the counter. With a single press she'd lean forward: "Sukeru dear, if you could please come up that'd be appreciated. We have a guest and Suki brought back something to analyze." With that done she'd offer a warm, apologetic smile to Sheri. "She'll be up shortly. You're free to have some of this stew when it's done if you're hungry. The scrap is in the yard, right? Sukeru will accompany you, I'll be in here to finish up."

It wouldn't be long before some thundering footsteps hailed the arrival of a tall, muscular, blue-hued woman. Though a bit shorter than Sukeru that made her no less imposing in stature, especially when put next to someone like Sheri. "What's all this about android wreckages?" Her eyes passed the room once before doing a double-take, having passed over the Tuffle the first time. "Ah. 'Ello. Guest I presume? If you're interested in the whole analysis thing feel free to tag along. It shouldn't take too long either way." The Heran would flash a smile and pair of finger guns at the Saiyan who playfully rolled her eyes in return, remaining quiet as she went about her work. "'Ey that usually gets some sort of response. Guess I'm losing my touch." She'd shrug, making her way for the back door. "Ready or not I'm goin' now so come along or get left behind." Suki immediately started after the woman, presuming Sheri wouldn't be far behind. If the Tuffle had tagged along they'd find themselves out in a high-fenced yard, sparsely decorated aside from the heap of metal now crushing some of the finely maintained grass.

"Yeah. When you said wreck you really meant it, huh." Her brows furrowed and a small sigh escaped the Heran as she clambered over to it, beginning to sort through some of the pieces. "A lot of this is just hull or basic relay coil stuff. We're looking for something unique. Either parts of the command chip or, if whoever made this was stupid enough, some sort of identifying code or logo we could use to track down the origin. That and whatever transmission pieces were stuffed inside. ...If they survived."

"I think I'm gonna go inside and help mum with dinner. I'll leave you two to it." Suki slipped away from the scene, quietly entering the door which closed behind her with a soft click. Sukeru had paused to look up at her daughter, merely giving her a nod before returning to the task at hand. "Remote, is it?" that would change what to look for, certainly. "And if it was tough enough to give Violet trouble then someone put some serious effort into makin' the thing." Though afterward silence fell. There was little noise except the distant passing of cars and the low groan of metal as the pair picked the android part in a clean and precise manner.

"I used to be involved with the whole war on Plant, you know. Not sure what our girl told ya but the same goes for Tsuna." The Heran would pause, glancing at a particular piece of rubbish before tossing it aside into the junk pile. "We're both fighters, but I did mechanical work on my squad's ships and she was a field medic." Humming contentedly it seemed as if the Heran found something particularly helpful from the pile, setting it aside in a separate collection area on the lawn. "We also happened to be enemies." It would be a strange revelation. Most Heran mercenaries ended up on the Saiyan side of things for obvious reasons. "Mm. Our first meeting was on a battlefield."

"A lot of folks like to fight. A lot of em' pretend they're tough, that they KNOW what it means to actually struggle for power. And yet next to none have actually stepped foot on a real battlefield. No dojo, no training, no simulation could ever hope to replicate the living Hellspace that war is. If the shellshock and second-hand burns from all the energy blasts soaring around doesn't get to you, the stress of seeing bodies piled up like sardines and your own comrades' blood splattered across your uniform will do it. I was younger then. Eager to prove myself as a real Heran warrior. What better way was there than to go survive Plant? Heh. Dumbass decision in the end. It wasn't an easy assignment like they promised. It was a crucible that you either melted into the depths of or came out a hardened fighter."

"So I stumble into a war as a dumb kid and Lady Luck decides I'm worth enough to keep alive. Squad started with fifty on the first year. By the third, we're down to twelve. The only reason I figured we were still in it at all was the Tuffle tactics to pull ambushes and that sortsa stuff. I thought I'd seen it all at that point. Burnt flesh, limbs torn from bodies, all sorts of brutal rampages by Oozarus. And I was wrong. We were on defense assignment to some obscure border in the Northern Territories where the Saiba Wastes turned into officially held Tuffle areas. Cushy job in theory. That far up there's no way any Saiyan team would wanna attack, there'd be no point. And then one attacked. We were outgunned and outnumbered by a LOT. Suppressing fire and group tactics was only doing so much and sooner or later they'd break through the line and that'd be that. So the brass at Tuffle command decided to..."

Sukeru would pause mid-sentence, a single hand reaching up to wipe away an unseen tear. "They decided to go ahead and bomb the area with Destron. Just aimed at the Saiyan backline to cut them off, maybe force a retreat or something. They missed. I dunno if you've ever seen the active effects of Detsron, but it's enough to make me sick on a good day. In the middle of a warzone with nerves shot to shit and suddenly seeing what little family I had at the time left succumb to it? It doesn't just suffocate you like other gases. They bled, they cried, they screamed raw until their throats burned away and their eyes melted in their own heads. And those are the ones who got lucky."

Sukeru sighed, stopping her work entirely to look over at Sheri. "Pain like that doesn't go away. You can learn to cope. You can adjust and live with it, but it's still there. I'm probably overstepping my line but I don't blame you for feeling the way you do around Tsuna and Azuki, and I'm sure they don't either. I've seen too many good people give up the will to go on after exiting war. I don't want to let someone else become a statistic on that board. So the offer is out there. If you wanna came and talk I'll listen. You don't have to see the others if you don't want to."

"Crotchety old bastard with the ridiculous mustache and the lung capacity to rouse an entire barracks? Yeah." It wasn't that surprising to hear of his passing. The guy was a die-hard fanatic when it came to his job and he'd probably not want to go out any other way than on the battlefield. "We never talked much. Mercs don't take commands from field-level captains. Still, he was a good man." It was never pleasant to replay war memories again. Yet Sukeru knew from experience that having someone who understood next to you helped. Suppressing them all down and hoping they wouldn't bother you was a fool's errand. And then came one of the major sticky points of the whole thing.

"None of us assumed you hate them," She'd reply softly. "It's a kneejerk reaction to trauma. You don't fight a particular species for a decade and watch them kill your friends without developing something. Even I can't escape that. It's been ages since we actually were fielded, Tsuna and I. Yet still, sometimes I'll wake up in the middle of a night in a panic, those same horrid memories haunting me. And..." Her expression flickered between guilt and sadness for a moment, the Heran trying to find her words. "I love her. I love her so much and I'm grateful we got a chance to live our lives out like this, but I can't stop myself. In those moments of confusion and panic I don't Tsuna, I see a Saiyan. I can't imagine how hard it is on her to have to calm me down. To know that just her existing can cause me stress sometimes because of memories that refuse to bury themselves."

And part of that was what scared her the most. "Azuki is a rambunctious spitfire. She's tough as Hell and has a good heart even if she doesn't think so." Sukeru's eyes dimmed slightly as she slowly sorted through more broken pieces of metal, using it as a distraction of sorts. "I'm terrified she'll want to go there. To Plant. To use her strength to 'help'. Tsuna and I got 'lucky' if you wanna call it that. We weren't leaving anyone behind on that planet. They were either gone or dead." Sheri's own regrets boiled down to not being there for the ones she had to leave. "And until that war IS over, trying to bottle up everything you feel about it is only going to hurt you. Trust me. It doesn't work."

"You'd think so, yeah. Earth is a nice place to live. Quiet, welcoming, and oft has little to do with any other planets' affairs. Doesn't stop others from coming here on recruitment drives. I remember this one pink-haired Tuffle. Cheri or something I believe. Came by during the Budokai to basically pick up candidates to help out with the war effort." Sukeru's head shook derisively at the mere memory. "I don't know if anyone ended up agreeing but if they did, gods above have mercy on them. I'm just glad she doesn't have to put up with that kinda shit from anyone around here." Ah the complexities and horrors of war. Yet the Heran could recognize that Sheri's tolerance on the topic had now worn thin as the direction was steered with a firm but commanding hand away from it.

"Well. No magically intact parts that'd lead us right to a potential culprit or source, but I've torn the things to shreds enough to figure out one thing. The metal used to build this thing isn't common on Earth and is generally banned so the government doesn't have to worry about issues exactly like mega robots wandering about and causing trouble. Of course not everyone really complies with said ban, so that blooms into a list of potential subjects that must have either made or sold their material. Foreign influence is another vague possibility but the erratic behavior and theft goals make me believe that it's locally made so to say." Not exactly an ace in the hole, but it was a hell of a lot more specific than anything they had before.

There was a vague mixed morality in picking up stronger warriors from off-planet and throwing them to the wolves in the form of a plea. There was no way any of them would really be ready for the war there had signed up, and would end up as little more than eventual fodder to help spare more Tuffle lives. It was disgusting on a base level but at the same time, Sukeru couldn't really blame them for doing it. A decades-spanning war with an extremely powerful enemy would wear down anyone's morale. "Don't sweat it," she responded dryly "I was worried I'd say that too." It was frustrating to know that the actual answer was still so firmly out of reach, but there was little to do about it except wait and see for the moment.

"Hence the reason for trying to snag an entire vault," Sukeru bemused, adding on to Sheri's running theory. "Doesn't seem to be the best way to keep your new toy very discreet so the money was probably necessary for some important step. Somewhere, somehow." As for Azuki's safety? "We do our best in that regard but she's a bit of a free spirit. I wouldn't put it past her to wind up in another fight against another android model sooner rather than later." Mm. Just another thing to add to the list of 'dangerous stuff Suki does daily'. "Well, not much to say other than that-"

"Oi!," Azuki's head popped out from the back door, voice carrying over to the women quite clearly. "Dinner's pretty much ready. Are you done with the analysis thing or should I bring some stuff out to you!? Oh, that also applies to you, Sheri. Mum made sure I'd ask specifically." The Heran would silently observe her handiwork before sighing and standing up. "We're done here. Not much more to glean from this stuff anymore." She'd turn to Sheri one more time with a small knowing look. "I can pack some stew in a to-go container if you want. We definitely made enough to eat leftovers thrice over if Tsuna was the one cooking it."