Monthly Prompt #3 (Patreon)

This prompt feels a bit Tarble wanky, but it makes sense in context.

...

Prince Tarble the First moved like a man that expected the universe to give way to him...and, if a fraction that Komand'r learned about the Saiyan prince was true, then more often than not, the universe did. In truth, he was more impressive in person than he was in the holovids, Komand'r thought, her gaze washing over the prince. 

His gaze was obscured by a blood-red visor, but what she could see of his face was handsome enough for a non-Tamaranean. His build was solid, muscle straining against his undersuit with a brown tail left coiled around his waist, a silent challenge to anyone that understood that a saiyans tail was their weakness. However, it wasn't his appearance that commanded such fear and respect. A half dozen power rings dangling from his neck, the pressure he seemed to exude that demanded submission, the confidence that he carried himself with…

It had been a risk approaching him, but with his appearance, Komand'r hadn't been left many options. That risk paid off more than she could have imagined for two reasons. As great as her people's struggles were, as fast as the Vega system was...it was little more than a detour for Prince Tarble. Their ancient and hated enemy that brought the Tamaran race so low wasn't even worthy of being called a challenge for the Saiyan. The second reason was that Prince Tarble valued stability -- if she offered it, then the Vega system would be hers. 

"What a terrifying man," Komand'r spoke to herself as she turned her attention to those that gathered at the capital. Her people were trickling in, wary of gathering in one place, but as rumor spread of Prince Tarble's presence, their numbers swelled. It wouldn't be long until the fleet that circled above would begin firing to discourage the gathering. 

That word summarized Prince Tarble rather nicely, Komand'r decided. For years she had plotted and schemes, tasting the bitter taste of defeat more than once as her plots were spoiled to free her people. Some of them by her own sister. For years, she struggled and fought for every scrap of power that would inch her people closer to freedom. 

Humble was not a trait that Komand'r had, she knew as much, but she felt it. This struggle that drove her forward for so long...meant nothing to him. Her greatest enemy wasn't powerful enough to be called an annoyance. Just by being here, Komand'r tasted the sweet taste of victory on her tongue because they had won the moment Since Tarble sided with her. Even the nobles that had sneered behind her back, whispering prayers that her sister would come back to claim the throne, now they groveled at her feet because she had Prince Tarble's support. 

That kind of power was terrifying. And she coveted it. 

As if to prove her point, Prince Tarble glanced upwards sharply, a dark blue light emerging from his hands, not dissimilar to the star bolts that she could fire. With a gesture that she could barely follow, his arm blurred, launching the ball of light upwards before an explosion lit up the sky. Komand'r tensed, unsurprised that they would open fire. What did surprise her was a large disk of that blue light that stretched outwards, covering the entire city. She could hear the Citadelian missiles and artillery slamming into the shield, only it weathered the blows with frightening ease. 

"Do your people have space-faring ships?" Prince Tarble asked, one hand held high as he protected the city. Nothing about his posture so much as hinted that he was straining himself. Komand'r believed every story about the man before her. Enough so that she surrendered immediately on his arrival. Only now she had a suspicion that the stories about the Saiyan prince didn't do him justice. 

"Not anymore," Komand'r answered, rage simmering in her chest. They had been reduced to savages pulling carts. Before their fall, the Tamaran fleet was second to none in the Vega system. They only refused to conquer it because of a lack of will. "You have my thanks for your actions, Prince Tarble. Many would have died without you." 

"They still might. You can thank me for saving them when the war is over," Prince Tarble dismissed as he floated upwards. He took out a mask, attaching it to his face, so now all she could see was a malty black mask and a deep red visor. "I'll go get you some ships then."

"It would shame me to allow you to fight alone," Komand'r interjected. Not only because she knew it would gain his approval as a fellow warrior either. She had craved this war since she escaped captivity. Komand'r would rather die than stand by when first blood was spilled by an alien on her behalf. 

"Keep up," Prince Tarble said as he soared upwards. Komand'r didn't even have time to give her people a speech before she found herself soaring through the air. The shield moved upwards, protecting them and those below from certain death before they reached the ships that hovered in high atmosphere. 

Over fifty of them. As they were now, only a fraction of that number would be enough to subdue her people. Komand'r was powerful. She could dispatch this fleet herself. Only the knowledge that her people would not survive the retaliation that their overlords brought upon them stayed her hand for so long. 

Dark light emerged from her hands, her eyes blazing. She was ready to throw herself at the enemy until all laid dead before her, only a gesture from Prince Tarble stopped her. “How many ships do your people need?” He asked, her communicator in her earing conveyed his words to her. While he spoke, he readied another blue energy bolt, throwing it at the flagship of the Citadelian fleet. 

The ship was massive- before she could analyze the ship, the blue bolt rushed towards a docking bay on the ship as it shifted its attention to them. Komad’r half expected the ship to blow up, only instead Prince Tarble seemed to be controlling the attack. It took her only a moment to realize what he was doing when she saw the first bodies to fly out into the unforgiving vacuum of space. 

He was ventilating the ship. On his visor, she could see a faint outline of a ship -- he scanned the ship and now he was destroying doors, exposing the interior to space. That was...terrifying. 

“My people need only a few,” Komad’r answered. She had insisted to be here, only now it seemed she was forced to watch him destroy her most hated enemy single handily. “But, there are a great many Tamarain slaves in this system.”

“Then I’ll take care of them all,” Prince Tarble decided several more balls of light rushing to the other ships. Komand’r watched in fascination that within minutes, thousands of bodies drifted out of the ships and their ceaseless bombardment came to an end. An entire fleet captured, their armies dead...in minutes. With no effort. 

No, the stories didn’t do Prince Tarble justice at all. They must have been toned down because otherwise, no one would believe them. 

“Impressive,” Komand’r commented, compelled to say something. 

“Not really,” Prince Tarble dismissed the feat easily. “But, I suppose I should ask what you intend to do with the ships?” 

Ah, he was testing her. Testing to see if she was brash and foolish enough to load up her people and attack the Citidilian empire’s capital, to rain down hell upon their citizens like they had done to her people. Part of her was tempted to do exactly that, but as she did so many times before, she tempered her need for vengeance and thought what was the best course of action to get what she wanted. 

What she wanted was control over the Vega system. For Tarble to give her that control, she had to prove that she was wise enough to give him the stability he desired in this area. Especially when she just proved she wasn’t mighty enough to maintain that control through force. 

“Attacking the Citadelian empire right now will only fracture the Vega system. The other factions will see their destruction as an opportunity. If I am to control this system, then I must unite them under my banner before the empire falls,” she stated, earning an approving nod from Prince Tarble. A simple test, but any chance she had to secure his favor, she would take. 

“Hm. Who first?” He asked, and she knew the answer before he spoke. 

“The pirates.” 

…

Her people might have lived as savages for decades, but there were those that still remembered the craft of shipbuilding. Within a day, the ships were repaired, then manned by her warriors. It galled at her to see how low her army had fallen -- in the end, they only needed one ship to carry them all. She knew first hand just how many of her people were slaves, so their numbers would swell soon enough, but for now, it was disheartening. 

“Hm,” Komand’r hummed to herself, her gaze sweeping over her quarters. Some things were out of place, stripped from the walls and floor from the force of the ventilation, but it would more than suit her needs. The captain’s quarters. Her gaze drifted over to a portrait of a Citadelian alien -- scarred, brutish and cruel. He was of the generation before they began to cut corners in the cloning process which hampered their intelligence even further. 

She strode over to her new desk, easily finding a safe before she ripped it open. Inside was nothing of value beyond a few trinkets. What she did find was a bottle of alcohol. Perfect for her needs. Grabbing it, Komad’r headed down to one of the storage areas that Prince Tarble had claimed after refusing the captain’s quarters. 

The few of her warriors that she did see stood at attention, an eagerness filled the air with a tangible excitement. After all, she was hardly the only one that suffered at the hands of their enemies. Already, she prepared a speech once they had freed their enslaved brethren. After this, Komand’r would never have to fear her sister usurping her ever again. Their people wouldn’t accept it even if she did try. 

She didn’t bother checking her appearance before she knocked at the door. A long moment passed before she heard a distant ‘enter’ before the doors slid open with a touch. Instantly, her eyes were drawn to the prince. A hammock was secured, serving as a bed while Prince Tarble himself stood in the center of the storage place. 

By now, everyone had heard how the saiyan race was a race made for war. It was something that was said about every warrior race, no matter how untrue. While his entire race might not be made for war, a single look at Prince Tarble’s body convinced her, at the very least, he was. There were more than a few scars that littered his body, some more grievous than others, but the ones that drew her attention…

“Some of those should have killed you,” Komad’r pointed out, her gaze landing on the X shaped scar over his heart. To peaceful species, the scars might have marred what could be argued as the perfect body for a warrior. However, as a warrior herself, if anything they enhanced his appearance. They were badges of honor that proved that he had survived. 

They complimented his face well, she noticed. His mask and visor were gone, revealing a handsome face with yellow eyes that burned with intensity. The Wrath State, if she recalled correctly. It seemed that the name was rather misleading, all things considered.

“Some of them almost did,” Prince Tarble agreed. “Did you come here for a reason?” He asked, ruining the moment. Komand’r held up a bottle of alcohol in response, not letting the setback deter her. It was only natural that someone of Prince Tarble’s stature would be used to such approaches. Given there he remained unmarried, it seemed none had worked so far. 

“I wanted a moment to talk about what will come after we conquer the Vega system,” Komad’r spoke. It could even be called the truth, from a certain point of view. "And what will be expected of my people to aid the Frieza-force." 

Prince Tarble nodded, unsurprised by her attempt of negotiation. "You'll likely be underneath my direct command so that simplifies things quite a bit. There are bare minimum quotas for minerals, supplies, and troops -- but that can be finalized once we find out your exact population count." So she would be under his direct command. Already, that was a reassurance because now she didn't have to worry about another alien trying to go back on the deal. 

Komand'r nodded, going to a crate that would serve as a table before setting the glasses on it. "I’m gladdened to hear it -- I have heard a great many tales about you, Prince Tarble, but not all of them relate to your prowess in battle. It is said that you are a benevolent ruler." 

To her surprise, Prince Tarble scoffed as she poured the drinks. "They say that because I let those under me rule themselves. I only have a few rules -- don't be idiots, and meet the quotas. So long as you don't break those rules, then you're free to do whatever." That contradicted what she heard about the prince. 

"Hm," Komand'r hummed, realizing that the prince was simply being humble. After all, there must be a reason why the races and planets under his rule prospered until they became the envy of the galaxy. "I suppose it is the wisest of rulers that know when to rule, rather than how," she commented, taking the drinks to Prince Tarble, who watched her as he stood in the center of the room. She wondered what she had interrupted when she entered. 

"Everyone does enjoy autonomy," he returned, accepting the glass. 

That much was true, she admitted. Honestly, now it appeared too good to be true. She would receive the Vega system, she would never have to worry about being usurped ever again, and outside of tribute, she could run the system how she saw fit. 

"To the future, then," Komand'r said, holding up a glass. Prince Tarble clinked his against hers, echoing the toast before she brought it to her lips and took a sip. The bitter taste washed over her tongue, recalling the taste from her time in captivity. She hated the taste then, but she despises it now. Looking down at the contents, she saw her reflection for a moment. "That was disgusting," she stated, the words slipping out of her mouth before she could stop them. 

Then she heard a sound that she didn't expect to hear. Prince Tarble laughed. It almost seemed out of character for such a smoldering character. 

"It was," he agreed with a laugh in his voice. Despite the bitter memories, Komand'r smiled in response. 

He had a nice laugh, she decided. 

And despite the taste, they drank the bottle.

…

They arrived at their destination a day later. The pirates that plagued the Vega system could almost be considered their own nation, in a way. A federation, almost, led by the most savage of pirates -- three, in particular, stood out. Blackfang, Red fur, and Big Mama. They ruled the asteroid belt, demanding tribute from all that operated in the area. They raised and raped throughout the system without fear because their pirate bands were larger most nation's fleets in the system, except for the Citadelian empires. 

They claimed an asteroid large enough to be a planet as their own, broadcasting their location for all who cared to find it, fearlessly but foolishly believing they would be able to rebuff any that attacked them.

“This is Prince Tarble of the Trade Organization,” Prince Tarble introduced himself to the pirate haven. “Gather your leaders to give me your unconditional surrender. I will accept it at hanger bay three. You have one minute to comply,” he informed. His tone didn’t change, and his words were spoken as statements of fact. To him, Komand’r realized, they might as well be. 

“Follow me,” Prince Tarble ordered as he turned away from the command deck. Komand'r obeyed, falling in step behind him. She expected the pirates to answer by opening fire, only there was none. They left the ship through an airlock, and, more surprising, they weren't even trying to muster up a force to defend themselves with. No shipsvtried to leave either, so they weren't trying to flee, either. 

A dawning realization overcame her as the door to hanger three opened for them, a thin energy shield preventing hanger from suffering the same fate as the ships that her people now owned. Within was an occupied hanger, aliens running about, but she spotted one that anyone in the Vega system knew by sight. 

Red Fur. A bestial bipedal alien that didn’t look dissimilar to the human werewolf. Only a thick mane of red hair covered his neck, going down his back. His hands were razor-sharp claws, and his teeth were just as jagged. He looked out of place wearing heavy armor with a modified disintegrator blaster hanging at his hip. 

“Prince Tarble,” Red Fur spoke, his voice rough and gruttle, but there was no mistaking that tone. There was no mistaking that look in his eyes as they flew over to him when he dropped to his knees. Komand’r marveled at what she was seeing, not believing it despite it happening before her. “You have my surrender,” the words came out between gritted teeth.

He was surrendering. Without a single shot being fired, one of the most fearsome pirates in the system was surrendering himself to them. 

Komand’r basked in it as members of his crew also bowed in submission. The power was intoxicating, like a pleasant jolt of electricity racing through her. She savored the feeling after so long being powerless. 

“Good. Where are the others? They have another fifteen seconds,” Prince Tarble informed as he touched down on a metal walkway. Komand’r landed next to him, unable to keep the smile off her face as she looked down at Red Fur. He started to snarl at her but quickly realized how great of mistake that would be. 

“They are on their way,” Red Fur answered shortly. 

“To give their surrender or throw their lives away?” Prince Tarble asked, earning a small shrug from Red Fur. Komand’r stopped smiling at the blatant disrespect, a star bolt forming in her hands as she took a threatening step forward. 

“Prince Tarble asked a question,” she warned. Red Fur visibly restrained himself from lashing out -- for the past decade, he was the one that tormented and ravaged the system, she imagined it must be a very bitter pill to swallow to realize all that power was ripped from his grasp. Even better, soon it would be in hers. 

“I don’t know. We run this place together, but its hardly like we’re friends,” Red Fur elaborated, swallowing his contempt for now. Then a small beep rang out. At first Komand’r assumed it was a bomb, that this was a trap, only for Red Fur to pull out a communicator. He pressed a button, accepting a call with Prince Tarble’s permission, revealing another pirate that anyone in the system would recognize. 

Big Mama, better known as the mother of whores. She was beautiful -- snow-white skin, warm blue eyes, pouty lips, two antennae that emerged from her stark white hair with a flower in it. Appearances were deceiving, especially in her case. Komand’r swallowed her rage at the sight of her and focused on what she was saying. 

“My apologies, Prince Tarble, but it seems I’m unable to make it to hanger three by your deadline. I most humbly offer my sincerest apologies and my immediate surrender to you,” she spoke, her tone was sweet but unable to mask the rage in her voice. 

“And the last one?” As if to answer him, a blaster bolt raced to his head, only for Prince Tarble to lazily dodge out of the way before he tossed a blue energy ball in the direction of the source. An explosion filled the air. Once the dust had cleared, Komand’r saw it wasn’t an ordinary assassin. Blackfang himself had taken the shot, and he had died for it. 

For a tense moment, it seemed that the action was going to embolden the others, only the moment passed without anything happening. And if it hadn’t happened then, that meant they didn’t have the fight in them. Prince Tarble’s mere presence alone had taken the fight out of the pirates. He demanded for their surrender, and they were giving it to him. Just as she did. 

“I’ll give you another minute,” Prince Tarble generously allowed Big Mama as he crossed his arms. Big Mama gave him a false thank you before the call ended. The next minute passed with a terrible slowness, the tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. Red Fur chaffed because he hadn’t been given permission to stand, the pirates shifted, though no one said a word. 

With seconds to spare, Big Mama strode through a bulkhead door. Her usually perfect hair out of place, a sheen of sweat could be seen on her skin, her breathing was ragged and she carried a pair of high heels in her hand. She had wings attached to her back that were translucent with a pale blue hue to them, but they were too large to be used to fly in the corridors, forcing her to run. 

“Finally,” Prince Tarble muttered to himself as Big Mama walked before them, kneeling next to Red Fur, who looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh. He overlooked them both, then he turned to one of the other pirates. “You,” he said, pointing at an alien with tendrils for legs and hands, though, more noticeably, a black fang emblem on his outfit. “You’re in charge of the other crew. Get over here,” Prince Tarble snapped when the alien stared at him blankly. 

It snapped to attention, obediently floating down before it fell into a kneeling position, which looked a bit odd since it didn’t have knees. “We...offer our surrender too, uh, Prince Tarble?” He said, uncertain, but trying to mimic the others. 

“I’m going to keep this short,” Prince Tarble began, sounding bored with a hint of irritation that kept them all on edge. If she had to guess, he was annoyed that they had surrendered so easily. “You’re being recruited for the Frieza-force. She’s in charge of you and the system, so do what she says. Her voice is mine in this system.”

Komand’r felt every eye settle on her, and she stood that much taller because of it. She stared down at Big Mama, basking in the rage and hate in those soft blue eyes. 

“My first order is the immediate release of all Tamaranean slaves into our custody,” she began, speaking loudly so her voice would carry throughout the hanger that seemed to be holding its breath. Then her smile grew into something cruel, “and for their owners to face immediate execution.” If it were possible, the mother of whores grew pale, finally realizing the position that she was in. The Tamaran race was a popular slave race because, by most species standards, they were exotic and beautiful.

Most of her people were sex slaves. And as the mother of whores, she would not be seeing the end of this day.

Her hand went to something, only for a bright blue flash of light from Prince Tarble to sever the offending arm. Big Mama screamed as she clutched the stump, the severed arm holding a weapon. Prince Tarble let out a small sigh as he stepped forward, towering over the fallen pirate as she screamed in horror and shock. 

If there was ever any justice in the galaxy, then this must be it. 

“Stop screeching,” Tarble ordered, his voice cold. Shockingly, Big Mama’s fear was so great that she snapped her mouth shut. “You just tried to do something very stupid -- I just said that Komand’r was my voice in this system, and you just tried to kill her.” Oh, had she been aiming at her? Komadn’r felt a swell of warmth for the prince. She assumed that he was the target. 

“But, I’m not going to kill you. Right now, you’re too important since I’m guessing you know exactly where every Tamaranean slave is. Is that right?” He asked, his tone even and calm, and he was that much more terrifying for it because his words carried throughout the hanger. Big Mama swallowed thickly, giving a shaky nod, trying to find a way out of her position, but Komand’r refused to give her one. 

She would die. And she would die screaming. 

“Good. Now, thank me,” he ordered, staring hard at the fallen pirate. A long moment passed, Big Mama apparently paralyzed with fear, before Prince Tarble cocked his head to the side. “I only cut off your arm for your attempt of murder. I think I deserve a thank you for my generosity.” His tone never changed, but there was a frosty hardness in them that made a shiver run through her. Through everyone in the hanger. 

“So, thank me,” he ordered, making Big Mama swallow as she had to force the words out. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, those proud blue eyes were filled with one thing -- defeat. There was no hidden gleam that betrayed her plots for revenge. She knew that gleam all too well, just as she knew how to recognize true defeat. And it wasn’t just in her gaze, but Komand’r saw it in everyone’s eyes. 

Without a fight and a handful of words, Prince Tarble broke the most fearsome pirate bands in the system. 

“You’re welcome,” Prince Tarble said before he turned to her. She smiled at him, her blood running hot in her veins as she could feel his intense yellow eyes on her. “Will this lot be enough?”

Her smile grew as she uttered words she longed to say for years. 

“Let us bring down the Citadelian Empire.”