Sneer of Death

”And where is he now?”

”In the dungeons. Locked up tight.”

”Very well. I’ll see to him.”

Vocado walked past the diminutive Saiyan who’d greeted him at the landing bay, offering a cursory wave as his pace quickened. For the time being, it seemed his undercover vacation would have to wait. Normally, he wouldn’t have paid the summons much mind, being that the Saiyan in question was rather low in Battle Point. It was his demeanor, however, that raised Vocado’s brow. A vicious warrior, found in the wastes.

The stereotype. The problem personified.

There was little in his way across the palace halls. Guards and officials went about their business, paying him little mind as he approached the entrance to the lower levels. Things were surprisingly uninteresting around the palace, apparently, which was worrisome in its own way. Waiting for the shoe to drop was the worst part.

Rounding a corner, the Saiyan commander bounded down the stairs, skipping past a few steps at a time to reach the bottom quicker. The dungeons were far, far below the palace. Usually reserved for special individuals that the regular prison couldn’t quite contain.

It’s with a hop that he finally reaches the bottom step, stretching his shoulders as he adjusts himself to the dank corridors. In the far corner of the hall, a guard seemed to be clutching a rag to his face, the cloth seemingly soaked in blood. Rolling his eyes, Vocado barely regarded the fool, moving to the main chamber without so much as a salute.

The door of the cell block swung open with a heavy creak, which would’ve surely alerted the prisoners, had there been anyone aside from Lottus within the confines. While they weren’t adverse to it, capturing prisoners was rather rare for the Saiyans.

”Been a long time, eh?”

Vocado stepped into the light, however little there was, and brought forth an energy ball to properly illuminate the cell.

”I heard stories in the trenches. That you’d gone rogue. Didn’t think much of it at the time, honestly. Guess you’ve been busy.”

He wasn’t sure what to think just yet. Hatred wasn’t the right word, even with what Lottus had done. There was disappointment somewhere in Vocado’s chest, but the other emotions mixed within were still unknown.

”What was your plan, anyways? Fight until you died in the crags? Certainly not a warriors way to go out.”

”Chatty today. That’s not like you.”

His hand raised slightly, and the ball of light in his palm floated off, hovering above them like a magical chandelier. Despite the danger the prisoner posed, Vocado strolled into striking distance, hands on his hips as he eyed the man closely. Should it come to it, he was absolutely certain of his superior speed.

”Not quite sure yet.” His mind wandered as the question echoed. Why was he here? ”You’re either exactly the sort of man I’m looking for, or a perfect example of the opposite. Only problem is I haven’t decided which is which.”

Lottus’ story did entice him, if only a little. The selfish side wanted to do much the same. To live free and to fight whenever he pleased. But he had duties to attend to. As Saiyans of his rank often did.

”I have a few questions, for one.” The Saiyan commander began to pace back and forth, rummaging through his mind for the right series of topics. To lead Lottus in the direction he needed most.

”You say our people have grown soft, but yet it is only this generation that finally sealed victory in the war. The tuffles are defeated. Sure, they hold their city still, but it is only through the mercy of our king that they live. Would you consider his overwhelming might weakness?”

Taori had been missing a fair few days now. Ever since the confusing tournament match they had, the man was silent. Where had he gone off to? Questions for another time.

”I suppose I already know the answer, but I’ll let you speak it in your own words.”

A surprisingly informed response. He’d forgotten how intelligent Lottus could be. Even with his bloodlust, he still had a warrior’s mind. Something to admire, perhaps. Despite himself, he didn’t let his surprise show. Cold eyes were all the prisoner received.

”Suppose you’re right. But who are we to judge the King? He fought in the trenches. Same as us. Bled the same blood. I trust his judgment.”

For now.

”I’ll be candid with you, Lottus. You’ll either be dead long before you could tell anyone my plans, or you’ll be working alongside me to enact them. Either way, it’s in my best interest to clue you in.”

With a quick motion, the Saiyan flicked his wrist. An energy bullet had erupted from his palm, thin and precise, and undid the bindings on Lottus’ arms. The metal clanged to the floor with a thick thud.

”I worry that we’ve reached the worst possible outcome in this war. With peace as tumultuous as this, all we’ve done is remove an outlet for the soldiers in our ranks.” He turned his back to his fellow warrior, leaning against the cold steel of the bars as he ruminated. ”Saiyans are built for battle, or at least that’s what the propaganda instilled. If it’s true of you, then surely it is true of those beneath your station. They long for battle; crave it like a beast craves their next meal. If we don’t do something, then I’m afraid our only targets will be one another.”

Surely he would hear a laugh from Lottus soon. A disappointed retort in some form or another. Then again… surely he thought the same, no?

”I won’t let it happen. I won’t allow our people to devolve into animals. Fighting over scraps in a civil war until the Tuffles pick our bones clean? Might as well have let the Destron eradicate us.”

Finally, he turned back to Lottus, his expression deathly serious.

”We’re going to conquer the universe. Every. Last. Planet.”

”Say what you will, but the average Saiyan is no pushover. If you’d seen merely the disturbance reports I’d seen, you’d understand my decision all the more.”

It was far from a surprise to hear Lottus accept. What followed next, however, would be the actual difficult part. He was right in some respect. The Saiyan army had grown weak in ways. Soft due to victory. They needed challenge. Broken bones and fresh wounds to return to their glory.

”I wonder if that’s what our ancestors had in store for us. To conquer the stars. It certainly feels that way sometimes…”

Vocado exited the cell, beckoning Lottus to follow as the energy orb followed closed behind. If he followed, they’d walk past the wounded guard, who gave them a stunned look, before climbing the stairs back to the palace proper.

It would certainly be a long walk.

”The king and I are in talks with the Tuffle chancellor. Trying to bring them into the fold is proving difficult.” He shrugged, glancing back at his new subordinate. ”Something about moral hangups. Not the biggest fans of us. Go figure.”

Vocado’s pace slowed some, a troubled expression finding itself on him. ”If they continue to give us trouble, we’ll have to eliminate them. I’d be disappointed to do such a thing, though. Their minds are as sharp as our muscles.”

The last conversation he had with Cheri flashed in his mind.

”If ever they opt to reignite the war, the time they took to decide will give me more than enough time to fulfill the legend.”

Of all the things he expected from this morning, getting negotiation advice from Lottus wasn’t one of them. Ordering the Tuffles to do things his way would be the best way to go about things, but he wasn’t the leader. Taori was.

Something about the stories he heard about the final battle always sounded… Off. Surely this truce, however it was concocted, had more to it beneath the surface. If ever he saw Taori again, he’d press him on it.

”It’s a courtesy he extends in an effort to honor the legacy of both our dead. Both sides have lost enough. I suppose he’s trying to keep things cordial before resorting to our usual methods of bargaining.”

The pair stopped when Lottus reacted. Many didn’t believe the legend true at all. Surely the Super Saiyan was little more than a fairytale. Simply a mighty Oozaru, or a commanding leader. But Vocado saw it differently. There was more to it. The legends were…

”For a time, I believed fully it was King Taori that fulfilled the legend. During that final battle, an Arcosian by the name of Azoth had arrived to the heart of the conflict. Trying to commandeer things and broker peace his own way.” He recalled hearing the story over and over again as the weeks went on. Each Saiyan had their own unique way to spin the yarn. ”Surely you can tell the difference between you and I? Imagine that difference expanded tenfold. That was the gap held by Azoth and myself.”

”The reports say that Taori was able to fell Azoth in a single blow. No battle. No fanfare. One blast and it was done. I wish I’d been there to see it…”

Vocado leaned against the wall of the rounding staircase, allowing light from one of the windows to illuminate him. Down the length of his right forearm lay a deep scar. Perhaps this was the reason he’d been absent for that final battle.

”Now, though? Having seen him fight? I can’t be so sure. I’m not even sure just how much of the fighting Taori actually did that day.”

Looking down at his arm, he ran his other hand across it, balling a fist when he pulled away from his old wound. ”I can feel something growing within me. I’ve been taken to the brink of death my fair share of times, but each time… there’s this knot. I can feel it even now. Like an itch in my back that I can’t scratch.” His eyes lost themselves in the sky out the window. ”Maybe it’s nothing. Hell, maybe I’ve got a tumor back there that’s gonna kill me next week.”

Their moment in the stairwell ended, with Vocado turning to return to their trip. ”All I know for sure? I’m done waiting for someone else to make the right choice for our people. When the time is right, that crown might just clatter to the ground, ripe for the taking. Either that, or our King will prove just how true that legend really is…”

The stairwell spilled out into the main hall of the palace. It was a bit quieter than it had been before, with most of the hustle and bustle having moved either to the outside or whichever room it was that people needed to be. Vocado’s pace became brisk; not so much hurried, but more interested in getting past this rather boring portion of the journey.

”I suppose you’re right. Our people, complacent or no, have never been kind to the weaker of our leadership. Not many kings stay in the history books.”

Vocado let the words simmer in his mind a while, thinking on the subject as he pushed open the doors to one of the side rooms. A line of mercenaries stood, waiting their turn for a rather slow receptionist.

Was Lottus right? Taori didn’t seem the type to lie about such an achievement. Maybe the Royal status had gotten to his head. Either way, it was pointless to fret. The truth would probably never find a way to worm free of the rumors and stories. A shame to be sure.

”Our first order of business is to decide where to strike, and when. Each planet in the northern galaxy has its fair share of strengths and weaknesses. The only question is which one would provide an appropriate foothold into the wider stars.” Taking his place in line, he tapped his chin as the receptionist called for the next in line, and the massive string of soldiers trudged a single step. ”Our home is fine enough for a base, but for operations moving forward, I fear it may be too isolated. Most of the other worlds have some resource or trade routes to enhance their wealth, but Plant perhaps the least of all.”

Vocado nodded pensively as the line stomped ahead. By now, another two had already been served. Hopefully the next dozen or so would be just as quick.

”Perhaps so. But the Galactic Patrol reaches far and wide. Cast too long of a net, and suddenly they’re spread much too thin to be of any threat.” Part of him frowned at the mention of murdering so-called “do-gooders”. Nothing about Vocado’s plan, at least to himself, had any sense of moral righteousness or debauchery to it. He was doing what he felt was right; not what was just or Injust.

”If we find a handful of worlds to conquer all at once— strike them each with efficient ferocity? We’d have the planets cleaned out and sold off before the patrolmen knew where to start.”

He sighed inwardly, pursing his lips as thoughts ran to and fro beneath the skull. Defeating the galactic patrol should, in theory, be rather simple for a unified Saiyan front, but it would paint a rather sharp target on their backs.

”But perhaps you’re right. Wiping them out would provide us a rather simple path to the rest of the galaxy. Suppose we did start there, though. Striking unprovoked might invite those of… High moral standing to look our way. Some of those heroically inclined folks pack quite a punch. Might make capturing valuable planets harder.”