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DBM Universe 19

Written by Foenidis

Adapted by Caihlem

These armoured warriors who participate next to Gokû and his friends, where did they come from? What is their history?
Discover how technology and bravery could be the winning cocktail of the atypical Heloïte Universe, whose destiny could have more than once fallen to tragedy.

[Chapter Cover]

Waals grumbled.

Vexed, he used his ultra-waver to sweep over a portion of the brown mass from where the laser that had cut his right arm seemed to emanate from.

This is what happened when you daydreamed amidst a fight!

Of course, his modified cells would quickly erase the wound, but a laser shot was always tiring, almost as much as the process of accelerated regeneration.

The arrival of the unknown corvette was surely part of an elaborate plan. He also noticed that an impressive number of tanks massed in the Kollok rearguard had burst forward just as troupes had aligned themselves simultaneously to free the way. This battle wasn't going to be over with as quickly as he had originally anticipated. That dullard Galasir had surely taken an extra dose of vitamin pills the day he thought out this battle plan!

Suddenly, Wigner's voice resonated behind his temples.

— The tanks! he screamed.

Waals, struggling against a squadron of flying heros impatient to end their pitiful existence, barely had time to lift his sight to see the fiery mouths of the tanks' cannons ignite in a deathly fashion.

These pig-headed fools hadn't suddenly united around him by perchance!

Overtaken by a sudden fit of rage, the Ultra covered himself with a frontal shield angled toward the ground to fly, sparks blazing, to the ongoing cannonade against the troupes.

The closer he got to the line of tanks, the more candidates there were for suicide along his path. Firing on all cylinders, transpiercing, exploding, slashing, drunk on blood and anger. He was cutting a bloody path amongst the monsters more combative than ever. All the while, above his head, munitions designed to fly in a bell curve trajectory where firing relentlessly.

Because he had eventually cut-off his shield to slaughter impeding Kolloks with more efficiency, Waals found himself covered in gashes of varying depth. Exactly what would put him in a terrible disposition!

A savage rictus appearing on his face, he positioned himself to the left of the machine at the end of the line. All temporal diodes alight, he extended his right arm before opening the valves of his ultra-waver.

The shield he sprouted from his left arm could only protect one side, as the offensive rained against him. He knew he would suffer; he knew he might even die, but he didn't care. No way in hell were these degenerates going to kill off the guys of the troupe.

He was about to melt his fourth ten-ton toy when something cannonballed into him in a shower of sparks screaming "Heads up!".

Bragg had just dropped in like a missile. Stuck to Waals, he englobed both of them in the sphere of his shield. Thereupon, the protective bubble disappeared under an inferno of flames.

The blast of the explosion dissipating, he plainly invited Waals to follow him as he rose in altitude with his easy smile that characterised him.

The fresh air, the sudden calm, both seemed to pull Waals from his trans-like state. His blood shot had passed.

— These things aren't reactive enough to stop as fast as we can. You dive on a bunch of uglies, pull up at the last moment, scram out of there, and it frees a lot of space! Bragg started explaining. Let's swap! You'll soon be empty at this rhythm, and I'm tired of these scum, he continued while pointing the endless ballet between the drones and Dirac and Bose.

Waals wasn't dupe. Bragg tired, as if!

— As soon as you think you're done with the rubble, they drop another dozen and their stuff is equipped with one hell of a force field... I hope they're going to run out of stock soon, otherwise it's going to get difficult, Bragg finished in a mocking tone despite the gravity of the situation.

— Fear not, the great Waals is not tired, I will remove these bugs, Waals indicated, trying the play his partner's game. But first, I shall help you remove a line or two of these tin cans.

The propositon brought a characteristically large smile to Bragg's face. The two allies bumped fists before flying quickly in between the first ranks of tanks.

Waals to the left, Bragg to the right, each covered his external flank with a large shield, as they easily went up the aligned mechanical monsters with their free arm stretched out with a continuous laser beam dubbed "God's Blade" by their adversaries. Indeed though many other more primitive species were equipped with weapons capable of firing short laser shots, only the Heloïtes had succeeded in miniaturizing the technology behind continuous beams of suck devastating power. The beam was unparalleled in its cutting edge as well as being virtually invisible to the naked eye.

The sparkling wake of the two Ultras was fast followed by an uninterrupted train of explosions. Behind the screen of fire and carcasses from the destroyed tanks, the rest of the armoured armada of Galasir was stopping amidst total chaos.

The extremity of the battlefield reached, the two men went back.

— I was screwing up. Thanks, Waals admitted suddenly without ceremony.

— Thank Wigner, I was too busy to notice you had lost it. Talking of which...

— Yeah, I'm on it! I'm going to give these stupid flying gadgets hell, grimaced the bearded Heloïte before taking off with in a cloud of sparks, fire in his eyes.

While Bragg went off to destroy a couple of turrets with his Blast-balls, Waals chose to ascend the front line close to the Heloïte troupes to join the buzzing cloud of drones.

Many shells had reached with high impact. The average foot soldier wasn't as well equipped as the Ultras. Their shields were not conceived to resist strong explosions, or to totally conceal them. They did not dispose either of cerebral commands implanted directly into the heads of the Ultras. Having to strum away on a complex system in combat would have been suicidal, therefore they only had two reduced shield sizes. They also had as well their laser shots and a simplified Blast-ball system, much less powerful than those of the elite unit.

With the efficiency of a bomber fighter, the Ultra rolled out on his passage a mass of brown cadavers under the enthusiast hurrahs of the blue army.

— Wait for me!

Nim's voice resonated like a springtime breeze in Waal's agitated mind. The wound regeneration wasn't only painful... passed a certain point, it greedily devoured your vital energy with appetite all while pumping your system into overdrive.

— You went to caress your Kollok friends a little too closely? joked the dashing brunette as she got to his side.

— Wigner asked you to babysit me, is that it? grumbled Waals while continuously shooting.

The young woman answered him with bright eyes, all the while deflecting shots that screamed towards them as if they were bothersome flies.

— Not even! I'm going to replace Dirac... you know how he is, dancing in the air, that's not his thing. His thing is contact, blood, screams. Besides, why should it always be the same who get to play with the drones, don't you think?

Waal's answer was barely a grunt. He was like Dirac, destroying equipment wasn't what he found the most exciting either.

— I've got an idea, the brunette continued, all you'll have to do is follow me when I give the sign... this should please you.

Aware she had awoken the curiosity of her companion, Nim left him in a violent acceleration. She left a wake of death until the tank that had managed to push itself through the wreckage left by Waals and Bragg.

Her ordeal quickly sorted with two God's Blades, the young girl shot straight up towards the swarm of drones buzzing around two silhouettes highlighted by sparks.

As Waals engaged pursuit to follow, Dirac crossed him at full speed with his photon thrusters, closely followed by five steel flies of the sticky kind.

— Not too soon Waals, commented the giant Heloïte in his communication device, with three of us we can contain them, but with only two these machines are bloody pains!

Waals watched them as Dirac landed creating a panic movement amidst the brown tide, hustled by his cavalier interruption. He barely had time to see the titan cover himself under a protective dome that the ground around him alit in fire from five big consecutive explosions.

— Hey Waals, wake up!

The young Bose had just inserted his arm-shield between laser shots from two drones and the hairy muzzle of Waals.

The green gaze of the turbulent Heloïte, mildly absent an instant before, recovered all its warrior acuity. In no time at all, three carcasses of bent metal fell under his shots.

Further along, Nim was doing wonders. It is worth noting that the pretty Ultra was not only alert and lively, she had kept her agility of the gymnastics champion she had once been before passing the entrance tests for the prestigious unit. Her aerial twirls didn't leave the slightest chance to the drones, trugging along with their small directional thrusters. Waals wondered an instant why Wigner had rather sent Dirac instead of her against the drones... before deciding that their leader surely had reasons dictated by imperatives of the battlefield.

Whereas Waals and Nim were busy in a true game of shots in the swarm of flying contraptions, Bose dived towards the heart of the Kollok army, six drones tailing him closely. Waals understood what Dirac had meant. Part of the moving mass unhinged from the rest and flew in oblique towards the blue Heloïte troupes. Shooting them in their trajectory would be child's play, as long as a third partner backed you.

Quickly enough, the cloud of drones dwindled and the Ultras could slow their firing rate.

No doubt why Wigner chose this moment to inform everyone he was sending Led and Feyn to change their energy accumulator. The procedure was rare at best, and disengaging two Ultras during such a battle was dangerous... but the sheer amplitude and harshness of the combats obliged to anticipate everything to keep the advantage brought by the Ultras until the end.

Almost at the same time Nim called out. By voice and gesture, she invited Waals to follow her as she threw herself towards the hatchway that was opening again ready to release a new contingent of drones.

"Good call!" cried out Waals, noticing that they could penetrate the opening created in the force field initially intended to let the little flying machines pass through.

The next instant, him and Nim were opening themselves a path in the thick of the torrent of machines to rush into the hold of the enemy corvette.

They were expecting the newly released drones to backtrack and face them. Instead, upon entering the ship's premises, the mechanical automatons obediently landed before turning off their small thrusters. The opened hatchway closed itself in a sinister metallic cracking. After the racket of the battlefield an eerie silence settled in. The hold was big enough to hold a combat tank.

The two Heloïtes looked at each other.

With a small smile, Waals stretched him arm upwards towards the right while his temporal diodes signalled the preparation of powerful Blast-balls. Nim followed suit, arm stretched to her left.

At the count of three from Waals, both Ultras unleashes their shots all the while covering themselves almost instantly with a total shield.

Despite their high technology shield, they still felt the heat from the apocalyptic breath of the explosions they set ablaze in the hold.

Even though they had close their eyes by reflex, the still needed a few seconds before recovering full vision.


The room was intact!

Except the disintegration of the drones, not a single scratch was to be seen. Such an impact should have had the force to cut the starship cleanly in two!

The two Heloïtes concentrated.

They started by trying to contact their own, without success. The communications weren't passing through; it was impossible to warn of their delicate situation. Feebly they searched the area - somewhat vainly they knew, but they couldn't give up without checking - for a gap in the protective force field of the room. The invisible screen, barely a few millimetres from the walls, prevented all contact with the steel, or the joints, and they found no system capable of opening the hatchway from the interior. Even if he knew the futility of it, Waals lashed out with his laser blades, without any result. Worse! Several small dissimulated orifices seemed very suspect to them. The faces of the dapper Nim and her devil of a companion turned white.

They both knew their instructions. Their capture was planned, that was certain! The strength of the force field in the room prevented any evasion by weaponry, and it was unlikely their kidnappers would take the risk of facing directly two Ultras in full possession of their means. The possibility of neutralisation by gas seemed inevitable. They had to act fast, very fast before being neutralised!

Nim placed herself in front of Waals. Her eyes locked into those of her friend, they seemed to understand without having to talk. Their silent exchange lasted roughly a minute, and they both acknowledged. Each placed his right hand on the chest of the other, firing holes right in front of the heart and the temporal metal diodes.

— I'm so sorry Nim, Waals whispered with a dead voice she didn't recognise of him.

It's my fault Waals. It's the fault of all of us. We should have noticed it was a weird tactic not to unleash all their drones at once. We thought it was to tire us, well it wasn't. We were idiots this time round.

A salty feeling passed on the cheek of the young girl. The sight of the tear broke the heart of Waals the show-off. Waals the strong one whom nothing seemed to reach. He was ready to die, that wasn't a problem, but to have to kill Nim... and seeing her suffer having to kill him... This wasn't what he expected nor that it would be this painful.

Outside, the young Bose had raised the alarm.

Stunned for a fraction of a second by the information, Wigner recovered himself just as quickly to think of a tactic to adopt to contact Waals and Nim, without success.

After having asked his troupes to redeploy to cover the space he was leaving on the left while they were still missing Led and Feyn and to continue containing the drones trying to slaughter Bose now alone. He was shooting towards the enemy corvette in a shower of sparks.

Lost in his calculations, he has barely covered half the distance that an imperial voice resonnated in his head. The general Maserf ordered him to join the cruiser with his two men.

As if it was the time! Hadn't Maserf seen the terrible events unfolding?

That's where the information fell, cold and brutal, like another hammer falling down:

— This isn't up for discussion Wigner! Helior is attacked on her own soil!

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