Post by Anzu on Apr 19, 2018 23:34:02 GMT -5
Night hung over the Planet Vegeta like an immutable miasma of silence. It had been so lively when the sounds of battle echoed through all corners of the palace. The destruction had been troublesome to repair, but it was only a small price to pay in exchange for that delightful clashing of wills. Unbeknownst to those who had fought around the palace proper, projected into all manner of artificial recreations of locales present somewhere on Planet Vegeta, a second tournament had been held upon the planet’s far side, in the ruins of what was once a grand civilization of technological prowess. The final victor of both had been pitted against each other, and despite an unexpected result, their wish had been granted by the newly formed Bailong, the pale Eternal Dragon of Planet Vegeta.
With those festivities concluded for a time, the enigmatic hosts to Vegeta’s tournaments had dismissed their participants from the planet and returned to tending the Palace’s repairs, updates, and silent preparations for the next tournament. The present moment, however, was reserved for the quiet considerations of an armored woman sitting atop Vegeta’s throne, entirely alone save for her own thoughts. Until, that is, a projected screen flickered into life in the air before the throne. There, the dignified countenance of Polaris could be seen. With it, came his announcement of… a travesty of the highest order.
Executive Order: 51… 56.. 66… 71… each one detailed caused the armored woman to quake further within the darkness of her throne-room. This was not according to plan- not in the slightest, and that infuriated her. She rose quickly from the throne and descended the throne’s many steps with haste, adding more and more force behind each one until the stone trembled, and finally, buckled beneath her force. When she arrived at the throne’s foot, her voice tore out into the night:
There was a shimmer in the air and a stone-faced Namekian appeared in a single blink. He sat without speaking, legs crossed as if caught in the middle of a lonely meditation. A moment of silence between them passed, though he did finally lift his eyes to look upon the armored woman. The Namekian’s antenna twitched, but did not give way to words. Instead, the woman snarled at him again:
“This was not what you foretold! This… abomination is too soon! He is not ready- they are not ready! You know that our timeline is strict- this disruption could ruin everything!”
And then a prolonged silence passed again between them. This seemed to only further exacerbate the furious woman’s fury. Yet, finally, the Namekian spoke,
“... Of all humans, you should know that the flow of time is a fickle thing. I have provided you only insights into convergent points, and you were informed that the utilization of the Cube disrupted my foresight. It is no fault of mine that you grew excited as a child might and forged ahead without considering alternative paths.” The Guardian’s voice was low, but rumbled to command absolute attention with each word. Even so, his tone was… indifferent. This development did not alter his own agenda, for even this conspiracy was only one more stair toward his own schemes- and the armored woman knew that. The knowledge did not seem to assuage her fury, however.
She jerked her expression away and grumbled incoherent curses, which only inspired the Guardian to return his expression to a neutral position and to close his eyes once again. He was unfazed even when she spat disdainfully in front of him.
“... Fine. We will fall back on the contingency and observe for the time- but we must be ready. Summon them, and I will tend to the boy. They are not to be deployed until I order them so, is that understood?” and now it was the armored woman who spoke with absolute authority. The Guardian only snorted as his companion strode past him and into the deeper layers of the palace.
It did not take the seething woman long to reach a chamber installed deep within the palace’s belly; it was a relatively recent addition, having been constructed by the Guardian only a few months prior. Its entrance was a mundane one, two rectangular doors constructed of mahogany. The armored woman knew better, though- this chamber housed that which was to be her blade against the terrible fates that those like Polaris sought to immerse their universe in. It was early, many weeks too early… but she had little choice. She could not risk him being consumed by his studies in a moment where his strength would be needed- and the woman hated that. Though she herself had strength enough to deal with anything that he would be currently needed for, her pact with the Guardian left her hands tied for awhile longer. A quiet sigh rocked her frame, but she lifted a hand to the door and pushed it open, immediately filling the lavender hues of her eyes with a stark light.
“Aven,” the woman called into the large chamber beyond as she stepped within. With the door’s slow slide shut, any onlookers would briefly catch glimpse of a sharp-featured young man with his long, violet, hair pulled back into a jagged ponytail turning to face the armored woman of contrasting cerulean strands as she approached. His expression brightened, excitement mirrored by the uncurling of a tail of similarly purple hue at his waist.
“... Mother! We weren’t expecting you for another few years- did you miss me that much?”
The door slid shut.
In the space above Vegeta, the solemn dark gave way to a soundless eruption of luminous streams. They surged forward from nothingness and ceased- in their place, ships appeared. One after another, they filled the planet’s distant orbit. Any sensors trained on the otherwise barren planet would blink into life, warning their owners that Vegeta possessed an Armada once more… one whose occupants leaked power that absolutely stank of Saiyan ancestry.