It Begins

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It Begins

Post by Turles on 8/29/2012, 8:51 am


Easy Quest

Requirement: Must be a Saiyan or Half-Saiyan.

Reward: 1,000 zeni and a Third Class Commendation.

You may be a member of the Saiyan Army now, but you have a long way to go before you can prove yourself, runt. King Vegeta has a simple task for you to test your ability. We want to resale a nearby planet, Tranex. Go there with your squad, wipe them out, and reclaim the planet in the name of the King.

Introduction to Trexia

His pod shook violently as it rumbled through the atmosphere of Planet Tranex, jerking the drowsy warrior from his slumber. His eyes quickly fluttered to the display on the front window, watching as a myriad of the usual characters jumped across his screen. It was a read out detailing the recent military events on the planet, the locations of military bases and the like. He could see them each lighting up on a small map as his pod cleared the outer atmosphere, the rest of his squad falling in behind him.

He had been designated as the point man; he was the one leading this assault. He'd be taking the planet from the southern most base while the other three men handled the other cardinal directions. His eyes slowly appraised the information, taking it all in. If he fucked up, he'd be reprimanded by the commander in charge of this whole operation. It wasn't that he was afraid of this commander, per se. However, he was far smarter than most of the other hell jumpers.

See, he hadn't been raised by the Saiyan Military Culture. He'd been raised to value guile and cunning in combat over brute strength. He was not stupid, after all, not like them. He'd killed more men than they could probably count. Coincidentally, their count probably maxed out just past their number of toes. Grinning at his own remark, the Saiyan quickly flipped a glowing red switch on his right to disable the HUD that had lingered on the screen before him.

Now shown on his display was a massive industrial complex that seemed to sprawl out in front of him. He could see some form of vehicles scurrying off in the distance as what appeared to be a police force patrolled a cordoned off zone in the city, directing the majority of their forces to the area Turles was supposed to land in. Narrowing his eyes, the Saiyan quickly barked out questions from within his pod, curious as to who could have warned them.

”Hey, who told them we were coming?!”, his voice was hoarse and firm. One did not get far in the Saiyan Military by being weak minded, weak willed, or weak in general. For several seconds, nothing but static reached his ears. His compatriots were probably experiencing the same thing; wondering exactly how it was that they had been expected. Did that mean it wasn't possible that none of them had been the ones to do it? No.

Still grinning, the Saiyan braced himself for impact. He gripped firmly on the handles at his hips, pushing his spine against the cushion of his seat as he prepared himself. Taking the impact without any form of protection was downright fatal, something he had already readily acknowledged. Closing his eyes for the briefest moment, Turles blocked out all sensation as he was jerked about by the force of his landing. The concrete-like substance beneath his pod split and ruptured as he tore through it and into what appeared to be an underground bazaar.

Beneath brightly lit neon signs appeared a tribe of warriors, who wielded something akin to a shock baton. Were they the force he was supposed to encounter? As the door of his pod creaked open, sound flooded into the confines of his temporary transport. He could hear the music of the shopping center, the sounds of commandants barking orders in some language he'd never heard before. Something about this felt wrong. He was being set up?

Grimacing now as he stepped free of his pod, the Saiyan quickly put a hand atop his hair, running rough fingers through the fine fibers. He looked as though he'd just gotten out of bed, and it was true that he'd been sleeping on the way to Tranex, but that hadn't been the reason for it. His hair was permanently windswept, kicked back by the force of his flight through a myriad of interplanetary strongholds.

As he glanced up at the men who seemed to swarm together before him and probably behind him, judging by the noise anyway, a light show burst out around him. His energy was rising in the air around him like a strange, bright haze of heat. The men who stood in the plaza before him were visibly shaken by this strange display, as Turles stepped forward out of the pod, his fierce expression of both power and displeasure having a clear effect upon these men.

”Where the hell's your commander?”, his strong words produced no visible reaction. Apparently, none of them knew English. How pleasant that was, that he was now dealing with an even less intelligent bunch of creatures than he had been dealing with previously. Releasing a bothered huff, the Saiyan's left hand casually fell to his hip. Well, the commander guy clearly wasn't there. If he was, he was just as dumb as the mooks he was about to blast.

His hand cocked directly at his targets, the same light that had been swirling around his body now coiling up against his wrist as he took aim. The expression he wore on his face made him look menacing; the shadow cast by his blast was now covering him in a dark film of obscurity, preventing view of anything above his fang like teeth. Coincidentally, they were bared at the securitech officers who now lingered before him, blast shields raised.

Hadn't that been the name he'd been given on the report? Securitech? Something like that? As energy swirled idly around his palm in lazy spirals, the Saiyan gave one final warning to the men who he was preparing to eradicate. At least, he figured they were men. They certainly seemed manly enough, considering the fact that they were covered head to toe in hair and that he could smell them from his location, some twenty feet away.

”Achk, securitech ordurie Cisma Trokk?”, the accent was strange and thick coming from his lips, but he knew he'd spoken correctly. Their language was not overly complex. From behind him, he could hear screaming coming from the speakers inside of his pod; the rest of his squad mates were being being slaughtered where they stood. They clearly had fallen prey to the trap. He couldn't really blame them though. They were all equally infuriating people.

The ranks of wooly warriors before him slowly split open as their commander stepped forward, having answered to the call in his own language. He grinned through the fur, yellowed teeth displayed clearly as he approached, shock baton in his non-shield hand. It was positioned at his hip, still lit, as if Turles would have missed such an obvious sight. Still scowling as the man approached, the Saiyan lowered the blast to his hip. Clearly, this man wasn't the brightest either.

”Turles, I presume?”, as had Turles', his voice sounded thick and strange as it spoke a foreign tongue. He had at least taken the time to learn English, but not taken the time to learn of Turles' impatience. He was not here to screw around, he was here to destroy this place from the inside out. Of course, he was going to leave a few survivors... as per his arrangement. He had not yet decided whether this man was going to be among them.

”Commander Cisma Trokk; of Securitech. Why haven't your men stood down?”, he was straight and to the point. The men who stood behind Commander Trokk were still standing with their buzz-batons alight, much like the man himself. The warriors above had some type of rifle trained on his skull, several actually pointed at the ground around him. He could feel the heat from the several dozen lasers gathering on the base of his skull.

“Well, you see, Saiyan... I was thinking about our arrangement, and I've come to a decision.”, he sounded as though he had been thinking hard. Somewhere inside, Turles knew this not to be true. If he'd been thinking at all, he'd have realized that they had already come to a decision back then. He was trying to betray a warrior he knew nothing about, a poor decision in general. If he had any natural intelligence, he'd have simply accepted the offer in the first place.

”And what would that decision be, Trokk?”, his voice was low, filled with disgust. The man before him fingered his baton, which seemed to be powered by some internal force. Now that he was close, Turles could feel the energy being emanated from his body and channeled through the baton at his hip. Tone still a low and deadly hiss, the snake of a Saiyan spoke out once more. ”You wouldn't be double crossing me, now would you?”

The energy at his finger tips was still glowing brightly, as he slowly shifted his arm to face the commander. He knew that he could take this poor slob of a creature, whether or not the rest of them did. It was obvious they couldn't sense his energy or they'd have already run far, far away. His hawk-like gaze wandered forward with his former ally, or as they called it, former Karran. This man was hopefully one of the less intelligent commanders of this planet.

“Double crossing, Turles? That implies that we had trust in each other in the first place; did you really think I would just let you roam freely into my home planet, and kill my family...?”, the man's voice was dripping with grim tension. So, this was really happening? How unfortunate for the Trexian people, that their original cache of warriors was going to be done away with in such a poor fashion. Undoubtedly, he'd need to be dealt with.

”I had hoped you'd be smarter than that, really. It's a shame!”, Turles' voice rang out as he jumped backwards, just as his opponent jumped forward. A thin purple blast of ki burst forth from his finger tips as he released his hold on the energy. Trokk's shield rose up in defense as his soldiers rushed forward from behind him. Some form of metal bullets began to rain down from above, accompanied by massive 'bangs' and 'booms' that seemed to blot out all other noise.

For most warriors, this would be terrifying; for Turles? This was his comfort zone, and he would rock it just like he'd rock their puny little worlds. Dust and wind was kicked up as bullets shredded the dirt beneath his feet, while the Saiyan kicked backward and into the air. Trokk's body spun and turned as he rolled forward off of the momentum caused by the attack, his shield whipping forward toward Turles. The other warriors were now rushing forward around him.

Careful to maintain sight on his opponent, Turles extended his hand to the incoming shield. He turned quickly as he caught it, slinging it forward like a frisbee in order to decapitate his opponent; he watched as it flew through the air in the direction opposite him. He was being forced to move backwards in order to keep out of the sights of the men with guns, who seemed to linger on the cracked concrete above.

His other hand rose quickly, releasing several spiraling pulses of light toward the already weakened structure above. He laughed as the warriors fell from their perch into the swarm of warriors below, who were now howling and screeching as their leader fell to the dirt and the concrete was beginning to cave in on them. Turles' gaze followed a particularly large sheet of the substance, as it slammed into the center mass of the crowd. They hadn't been as interesting as he'd hoped they'd be.

The screams rose above the roar of crashing debris and even his own sadistic laughter. It was hilarious, really. They were being crushed to death in the same trap they'd set up for him. However, his pod was also quickly submerged in the debris. As more and more of the debris caved in atop his pod, the Saiyan slowly descended. The soldiers were fleeing now, and those who had been in a position to shoot at him from above were now post-humus. Still feeling a little jollier than perhaps he should have, he slowly went to work on digging out his pod. Sirens could be heard in the distance as he struggled.

For several minutes he worked, throwing the slabs across the plaza to the wounded, enjoying the crunch as they landed on target. It was his version of skipping rocks across a pond, really. When he finally unearthed, or rather, untranexed his pod, his mood changed completely. The back exhaust port had been crushed beneath the weight of the slabs. As he examined this turn of events, the Saiyan frowned.

Did Tranex even have mechanics?

WC: 2,140

Posts : 80
Join date : 2012-07-02

Character Info
Level: 26
Race: Saiyan
Location: Vegeta

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