DB Multiverse

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]

What’s left when you’ve done all you could, to the bitter end, without any results? The question slid into Waal’s mind like a dark omen. His organism burning from the molecular reconstruction didn’t prevent the Ultra from seeing clearly, even if keeping his inner fire at bay was taxing. He would have loved to beat the hell out of that monster, be it his last action, but his own life didn’t belong to him, it wasn’t his to dispose of. Wigner, his other friends, Helior and his people were counting on him, they were his drive, saving them was the essence that made the lifeline between the abyss and lust, the drive to live. A signal resonated in his auricular implants. “Blast it! Luckily the other freak wasn’t in a hurry!”

Wigner adorned a slight smile, visible sign of a renewal of hope. Everything was finally in place… Waals was keeping the monster occupied, he just had to keep him in the right direction. A glance at the ground confirmed to him that the Saiyan hadn’t taken flight again. Standing, he seemed to be observing, no doubt was he catching his breath, maybe he needed time for his magic to repair the corporeal damage. Curious, the Captain consulted the information from his imaterial visor, but his sensors didn’t perceive anything more than an average citizen, and a small one at that. Like at the beginning of their fight, the stranger only let transpire what he wanted, it was impossible to trust the data.

To each their own in handling anguish. If the nature of fighters was, most of the time, to allow their emotions to run amok to better exploit that energy, Radom preferred weight of analysis; quite the pulsions to extract the quintessence of his reflexion, that’s what would bring him to the right decision! That’s how even though the gravity of the situation, he observed coldly the invaders. What strange, what fascinating creatures, and better yet, was that the two fighters still standing didn’t appear to be of the same species! Did they even come from the same planet? Given the circumstances, the sage almost felt guilty regretting not being able to learn more, because the invaders were going to die… it was imperative they die! Being certain of it didn’t mean it was done, he knew that, but when all seemed lost, hope is the last barrier before the onsight of madness. As long as we hope, we fight, we’re still alive, standing. Standing, Wigner and Waals both were, Mox and the soldiers of Helior too, behind the last fortifications raised in between life and crazed darkness. Radom like observing to understand and advise, and he was good at it. He had carefully followed the action through the data that had reached him, and a detail had emerged. In a fight to the death, nothing was innocuous, in the end, and for that matter that particular detail, Wigner had also noticed it. Only the leader of the first quartet seemed to always know where his opponents were without the vulgar piece attached to one of their ears. All the others had shown signs of disorientation after the destruction of the little machine. Any other would have no doubt been delighted that the only stranger gifted with that ability was on their side, but during his long career, Radom had paid the price learning to distrust the cunningness of the ambitious, and that why, with the permission of the Counsel and HQ, to take no prisoners. Without Ultras on site to contain him, the barbarian could too easily bring the planet to its knees, better lose a precious source of intel than lose everything. The thought process of the elder man brought him back to Wigner and Waals, condemned to remain on the front lines. Thinking of the consented sacrifice, the weight of his duty felt heavier than ever on Radom’s soul. It wasn’t always easy composing between his conscience and the greater good. After all these years, he had started considering the Ultras that he’d followed since their selection until their retirement, as the children he’d never had. Each loss among their ranks affected him more than anyone else, and sending them to their deaths took more and more from him. Most people imagine power as some sort of rewards, the fools! Governing with justice takes more precaution than anything else. Deciding for the better good means sacrificing your own emotions and often betraying your most primal desires.

On the battlefield, it wasn’t the time for such reflexions! The two Ultras both grumbled in their own way against the new orders. They had to eliminate both strangers, now! Just a moment ago, it would have been easier to let the bigger one kill the other one… Damned bureaucrats from HQ! Let them have a try keeping the monster in the right position while getting the wounded Saiyan back in the air, and all that, without getting either of them suspicious, or getting killed!

The characteristic whistling of air ripped by high speeds got the attention of everyone involved. Three combat drones suddenly overtook the Ultras to charge on the big guy.

Within the atmosphere of the confined rescue module that served as a command hub, Mox’s stark face briefly shook from the tension. Artisan of the plan suggested by Wigner, he was decided to see it through. There wouldn’t be a second shot. He also lamented on the bad timing of the counter-order, but he had no other choice. The counter-attack of the monster hadn’t even reached the three machines that, already, the Admiral commanded the dive of a new trio of drones. Sacrificing material in the initial stage annoyed him, but the two Ultras needed reinforcement to obtain the ideal conditions for the success of the enactment of Heloir’s last card.

Wigner also grimaced seeing the destruction of the reinforcements rushed in by Admiral Mox. He dived towards the Saiyan, fully aware how precious each second was… he was going to have to be persuasif. Lying didn’t please him, but when the situation demanded it, you had to be able to quiet your morals. Waals was no doubt better equipped for this sort of role, except that the open hostility between him and the alien leader wasn’t ideal - to say the least - to persuade the stranger to re-engage combat alongside them. Acknowledging his terrible skills of deceit, the Captain chose to lie by omission, a safer bet than a story badly told.

It was off to a bad start. Standing face to him, Vegeta, looking upwards, didn’t afford him the slightest glance. Despite his important wounds, the Saiyan stood with pride and royal demeanour of his bloodied figure was impressive. Having more or less identified his mindset since their first encounter, Wigner chose the soft spot: the warrior’s pride.

— That bastard isn’t too bad, he’s still able to fight, he said plainly while clearly looking towards Waals.

The allusion, though barely hidden, reached receptive ears. The warlord condescendingly accorded him his attention.

— Zabon will kill you as soon as he’s decided to… In a very painful way, do not doubt it, to punish you for having tickled his fat, he added, a cruel light in his eyes.

— He has his reasons, that’s his problem, cut short the Heloite. It’s up to us to use the extra time to end him, we need to hurry. If I’m not mistaken, once he’s done with us, he’ll come for you, so we’re inclined to ally ourselves. Yes, I know, the first time didn’t work out, but this time, we have reinforcement…

— Your plastic toys? Please! Laughed the Saiyan

Wigner adorned a smile, so as to better indulge the trust of the other one. Observing Waals’ shenanigans had been very instructive.

— An experienced warrior such as yourself can’t tell me you haven’t figured out what we’re doing.

Well baited, a fish can only bite. Vegeta wavered, he wasn’t sure he’d pierced the new Heloite strategy, but he thought it better to appear sure of himself.

— The weaklings you call friends had better do a better job than so far, now!

By pronouncing those words, Vegeta knew they’d mean agreement if the Ultra wasn’t lying, but then again, what other choice did he have? He laughed interiorly. Of course there was another exit strategy, and a nice one:

The idea of the play he was going to pull all these fools, Zabon included, lightened the blows left from the bad turn of the battle, and it was with new zeal the Saiyan took flight following the Heloïte.

Curious as to how the technology junkies were really going to act, Vegeta tried interrogating the officer while they elevated themselves to the silhouettes stuck in the sky. The Ultra didn’t prove talkative, the Saiyan barely getting the confirmation they needed to divert Zabon’s attention, keeping his focus towards the planetary ring while the fleet would take him from behind. A plan that was evidently failing for the imbecile in charge of occupying the frog-faced groondas. He was going to have to think fast to get his edge without taking additional damage, but it was, for now, the only option. In any case, he was hoping to manage to monologue with the fatass until the arrival of the so-called cavalry… once Frieza’s lapdog was busy with the Heloïte fleet, the next stage should be easy, to not say amusing.

Zabon was annoyed. Not that the gadgets constituted a real danger - these gadgets were too slow to worry him - but their incessant waves deprived him from the privilege of dictating the dance. With his scouter, he’d have easily been able to handle everything simultaneously. But reduced to only using visual cues, it was safer to suspend the hunt for the weakling, who in any case was content observing from a distance he guessed was undoubtedly safe. Idiot! “Sooner or later, the leaders will run out of the remote controlled toys, and then, it’ll be time to end these cretins” the blue-skinned polymorph thought gleefully.

While he was searching the sky for the next machines to destroy he noticed two silhouettes approaching. He quickly glanced around again: still no flying rubbish in sight. The monstrous maw of the alien shined bright under the light of the solar ring: finally getting back to the meat of it!

Zabon didn’t even budge while the Heloïte joined his comrade and the last renegade Saiyan took position behind them. The safer they’d think they were, the more gratifying it would be. He decided to show himself as if playful.

— Vegeta! I’m thrilled to see you back on your feet, he taunted to start the conversation, not without an ounce of jealousy at the formidable ability those bloody monkeys had to get up after having taken a proper beating.

— Not close enough, noted Waals, gutted. He’ll see us coming, it’s almost guaranteed. We’d need the other one to catch him like earlier, to be sure we don’t miss.

Wigner was about to answer that it was surely going to happen soon, when the surprise hit him like an avalanche.

Vegeta too was quiet. His eyes wide on the inconceivable truth of a destiny he wasn’t ready to accept, he stayed for a moment frozen. Petrified by the energy blast that had just pierced him just under the solar plexus. Without seeing it, he guessed the hole, the size of the palm of his hand, had decimated his hope of getting out alive from this mess. The words destined to spit his hatred to the face of his murderer died in his throat. He’d have loved to deny the pleasure of his fall to the blue bastard, to offer himself an exit worthy of his rank as Prince of the greatest warrior race, but his body no longer obeyed him. After a pathetic bloody hiccup, he knees and shoulders faltered while his hands covered the origin of his suffering just before the great plunge, the abyss… the utter defeat.

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