Going Native: Feeling of the Past (ch. 57) (Patreon)

Having a Nth metal mace opened up a lot of doors for Shayera, and not just because she was knocking them down. Outside of Thanagar, the metal was mythical to those that knew about it at all. And the Frieza-force, more specifically Tarble’s empire, most certainly knew about the metal. Some had tried to take it from her. They had failed and in doing so, they made themselves great examples to those that witnessed not to try again.

Shayera looked down at her mace, having been without it for so very long. The sizable ball at the other end of the grip was covered in spikes, giving the weapon a deadly appearance. She had killed with it before, but only when she had to. Closing her eyes after a moment, Shayera leaned back in her chair, her wings fanning out. They drew some attention as well, but not for the reason most would assume.

The spine of her wings were covered in Nth metal. Interlocking plates bound to her wings to give her full range of movement. It could never be removed. Not without ripping her wings from her back, and such an action would kill her. The metal came from a mace that was once so similar to her own. The weapon of her love, Katar. Dual-wielding had been a thought at first. Just not a feasible one considering that she needed all her strength to wield one mace.

So, the mace was melted down and bound to her. Now Katar would be her wings for the remainder of her life. He would have liked that, Shayera thought.

“Next combatant!” A voice bellowed, prompting Shayera to look up. The number displayed didn’t match her own, but it wasn’t far off so she bothered to watch the match. They sat in a stadium, hundreds of them, a stadium once used for sport. Not even that long ago based on the final score of a game that got interrupted by an invasion. There were a few different matches being held, all between various aliens, each with a unique ability.

They were the ones that had earned the right to be here. The ones that had impressed during recruitment. They were the ones that earned an invitation to join the legendary 501st, Tarble’s fist.

“And what an honor it is,” Shayera muttered under her breath as she watched two contestants fight. One was able to control the ground beneath them, which meant little when their opponent could fly and fire some manner of energy beams down. For all the good it did when they couldn’t penetrate stone. Never in her life would she had expected to be auditioning to join an empire’s military that wasn’t the Thanagarian Empire's. Yet here she was.

War, by its very nature, was death. From what she had heard, Tarble took inordinately good care of his men, especially compared to the rest of the Frieza-Force. Even still, losses were inevitable. Men were lost here and there despite their training and equipment. The 501st was no different. And considering that Tarble had really managed to kick the hornet’s nest, he needed every soldier he could get.

As much as she wanted to go off halfcocked, kidnap Broly, and get him out of this special kind of hell, she couldn’t. To start with, he was stronger than her so if he didn’t want to go, then she couldn’t make him. Shayera didn’t even know if Broly would want to leave. What she did know was that Broly needed to be protected -- if she couldn’t whisk him away from the battlefield, a place that seemed to destroy him, then she could at least shield him from it as much as she could.

Saving a person was a difficult thing. Truly saving someone was so much harder than simply rescuing them from a burning building.

“Next!” Shayera looked up to see that her number was displayed and her battlefield was dictated. It would seem that the rock user had won the fight while the flying one was being healed off to the side by an incredibly annoyed-looking Saiyan child. Standing up, she flapped her wings once and flew over to the ring. Her enemy looked like a rock -- gravel skin and a blocky build. It was difficult to tell, but he also seemed annoyed. Probably because she could fly.

Touching down, she hefted her mace and glanced at the kid. He sighed like he had lost the will to live and was just going through the motions, "Begin." He said.

Shayera leaped into the air to avoid a spike of earth erupting beneath her before she even saw spikes of Earth racing towards her, launched from the ground. Her grip tightened on her mace and electricity crackled around it as she slammed it into the spikes, reducing them into dust. She sailed forward with a flap of her wings, through the dust and towards her enemy.

The alien made of gravel glared up at her, erecting a shield before him to protect himself. It might be enough to shield him from energy blasts, but it wasn't enough to stop a Nth metal mace. With a war cry escaping her throat, Shayera brought the mace down on the shield of earth and tore right through it. Forcing her way through the opening that she made, she saw the alien's eyes widen, his arms shifting to a secondary shield, but it mattered little.

She had to win.

Gritting her teeth, Shayera slammed her mace into the alien, folding him around it where it crashed into his side. Pivoting to give herself a little more power, the alien was sent flying away. He shot out of the ring, nearly crashing into the Saiyan child if it wasn't for him using his tail as a chair as he dully watched the fight.

"Winner is Thirty-three," The child announced in a dull tone. "Do you require any immediate healing or would you like to forfeit?" He might have been watching the fight but he didn't see a single thing. Shayera glanced at the purple ball being used to heal the energy bolt user from his considerable wounds. The same technique that Broly used on her.

"I'm fine. What's the matter with you?" Shayera questioned, standing on the ground as she stood in the defender's spot. She was never going to get used to Saiyans. The child next to her was a warrior, a cold-blooded killer, but he was also just a child.

The child heaved a sigh, "I got in trouble. The Khunds showed up in the system I was in with my team, and I really wanted to take it out all by myself. But our orders were to withdraw when reinforcements showed up… I didn't listen and I got in a whole bunch of trouble with Commander Tora. So now I'm here." The child explained his punishment and…

She never would understand Saiyans. To disobey a direct order would have been execution in the Thanagarian Empire. How could a species that seemed to bask in death and destruction be so lenient? Of course age would be a factor for her empire, not that the child would be on the battlefield in the first place. Shayera was glad that was the case, but she didn't expect 'because they're children' to be a valid excuse to a Saiyan.

"You're… mad that you have to heal aliens?" Shayera questioned -- she might never understand Saiyans but she needed to learn.

"Yeah. And I'm stuck here instead of the front lines. And I can't even fight the winners…" The child unleashed a sigh that had far too much in common with her sighs at the height of her depression. After the sigh, he clicked a button and another enemy was summoned for her to defeat.

The spots for the 501st weren't just handed over to the victor. Though, that did increase your chances. You fought for a place in the ring, and you fought to stay in the ring. The more fights you were in, the more chances you had to display your abilities, the more chances you had to impress someone that decided if you were worthy to join the 501st.

Her enemy touched down on the ground -- a hunched back wolven alien with claws that were deadly sharp. Shayera settled into a stance, calming herself, as she waited for the match to begin.

"You can start-" The child began before her enemy blurred forward. Just not as fast as Elery was. Or her mother.

The claws lunged for her throat, but the last thing the alien expected was her to thrust forward with her mace and bury it in his gut. The alien's momentum worked against the it, making the blow devastating even before Shayera clenched a fist and slammed it into the alien's jaw. She might not have the strength of a Sayian, but with the Nth metal she carried, she could hit far harder than a Thanagarian had any right to.

"Victor Thirty-Three," The child announced, his voice as monotone as ever. "Do you require healing or would you like to forfeit?"

Shayera shook her head, looking out at the crowd of aliens, and wondered which would be her next enemy. No matter who it was, she had to win. Every alien in the crowd was thinking the same thought, each motivated by the same goal, but it had to be her that earned that spot in the 501st. With it, she could get close to Broly. And from there, if it was possible to save him, then she would.

She had to do it. For years, Shayera had been aimless. Purposeless. It had nearly killed her. Now the love of her life was gone. The empire she served might as well be too. Shayera had a choice between two paths -- one of vengeance on Queen Teach or one of a hero by saving Broly from the hell he was in.

Shayera wanted vengeance. Craved it. If the very last thing she did was to kill that rotten queen then Shayera could die happy. But Katar wouldn't want that for her. As much as she wanted vengeance, the only thing she wanted less was to see Katar in the afterlife with shamed filled stories of what came after.

An alien touched down, the child said to begin and Shayera fought.

…

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed as Shayera fought. The aliens started to blend together until only their abilities stood out. Some were long-range, others could fly while others couldn’t, some secreted acid or burped clouds of poison while some boasted near invulnerability. It didn’t matter. All she had to do was swing her weapon. The only thing that determined the length of a match was how long it took her to get close to deliver devastating blows.

Her fight with Elery had shaken Shayera’s belief in Nth metal. The fact that the girl could get up and continue fighting… but that wasn’t the case for most. A solid hit wasn’t enough to put some of them down, but a second and a third hit usually did.

The muscles in her arms burned with effort as she hefted her mace again to smash it into the shoulder of an alien. It went down, crying out in pain, yet as it fell it shot some kind of spike from its wrist at her. One of her wings dipped down, blocking the blow before she slammed the shaft of her weapon into the alien’s face. Sweat dripped from her, her helmet not helping in the slightest, nor did her armor. Even still, she walked over to her defender's spot and waited for her next opponent.

Shayera heard the kid sigh, throwing another Medicine Ball at the wounded alien as they were dragged off the ring. “You win again. Someone up top wants to talk to you,” He informed, sounding bored out of his mind. Shayera blinked before she looked up at where the child had gestured. She pressed her lips into a thin line, wondering if this was a good thing or not.

There was only one way to find out.

Nodding, Shayera willed herself up and flew over to an observation deck where the commentators would sit. The windows were tinted, preventing her from seeing who was inside, but there was a convenient hole in the building that she was able to fly through to enter . A hole caused by an explosion, from the looks of it.

As soon as she touched down on the ground, she looked over to see a reptilian alien. Large black eyes, a tad too wide mouth to fit its narrow skull -- the alien wasn’t large or small, skinny or muscular. The alien wasn’t what she imagined a member of the 501st to look like, but the emblem of the unit was marked on the alien's chest.

“Greetings -- I am Technician,” Technician greeted, his voice confirming him as male. Probably. “You are Shayera Hol, correct?” Technician questioned and Shayera took a moment to take in her surroundings. The room looked like it had suffered some serious damage, but it also looked like they were the only two people in the room. So it wasn’t an ambush. Most likely.

Shayera nodded slowly, “I am,” She confirmed and nothing more. Technician nodded, a hand going to a hologram that appeared from his forearm. He was fishing for information.

“Have no worries -- your abilities have earned you a spot on the 501st,” Technician said, misreading her nervousness. “But, before I can welcome you as a comrade, one issue must be taken care of first. Please follow me,” He said, gesturing to a door that would take them directly into the commentator box. He started walking, expecting her to follow, which she did after a second of hesitation.

There were a few things that could be the problem. She was the only Thanagarian native she had seen, so perhaps it was a race issue? Given the sheer number of species that were being recruited, Tarble didn’t strike her as a racist but given that most of their empires hadn’t just been shattered like glass… That was a problem she could work with. If it was an issue with her weapons and the metal on her wings, that was less so. And if it was the final problem she could think of… then there was a good chance she was walking into a trap.

Still, she walked into it all the same. She was in too deep at this point. Inside, the commentator box had been repurposed. Monitors covered a wall, each displaying a fight and data. A half dozen people ran around, analyzing the fights. Her confusion must have shown because Technician chuckled, a rattling sound.

“501st is a special ops unit. We’re searching for abilities that will synergize well with others to increase the unit’s power,” Technician explained. “Those that don’t make the cut will be put into other specialty units. No need to waste powerful people because they had a bad matchup or impressed less than others. Please step on the platform,” He continued, standing on a platform that was shaped like a disk.

Shayera thought that over for a brief second before stepping onto the platform. That would make sense. The war was getting increasingly out of control from what she heard. The defeat of the Green Lanterns had no small part in it -- ancient empires and kingdoms that were forced to toe the line for generations saw them weaken and they wasted no time declaring wars they had prepared for generations.

They weren’t just declaring on the Trade Organization. They were declaring on each other, some declaring on what was left of the Thanagarian empire and some even declared on the Reach as well. The war was just spiraling out of control. The Green Lanterns kept the peace through force, and the moment they had weakened, those they kept down rose up and refused to be contained again.

Shayera’s thoughts were cut off when her vision went white for a moment, and when it faded, Shayera saw that she wasn’t in the same location. The makeshift room was exchanged for a high tech surrounding, dozens of people running around, testing various things. None even noticed them as they stepped off the platform. Shayera swallowed her anxiety and hoped no one would notice how her grip tightened on her weapon.

Now she was someplace she didn’t know, surrounded by what could become enemies. It was a bad situation all around.

“Please follow,” Technician said, breaking out into a brisk power walk, leading them out of the room to a narrow hallway. It was suspiciously empty, but Shayera said nothing as she followed him for some minutes. He led her down a labyrinth -- long hallways, elevator rides, and through wide-open rooms. There were people roaming the halls, but they were few and far in between. Everything about it was starting to scream trap to her, the only saving grace was the fact they hadn’t tried to take her mace. Or her wings.

Eventually, Technician led her to a door, which he paused at. Looking at her over his shoulder, his solid black eye seemed to stare a hole right through her. “I would recommend honesty,” He said and before she could question him, the doors slid open to reveal a large open room. Various aliens sat around performing a task, but her attention was stolen by a child standing at the end of a platform that overlooked battle plans.

“Did we get any war declarations today?” The boy asked, taller than most of the children she had seen in the Frieza-force, but most of his body was hidden behind a red cape.

“None. So far,” Someone answered. The boy nodded, seemingly pleased with the answer before he turned around to face them. And for the first time, Shayera came face to face with Prince Tarble. It was… odd, standing in front of him. His visor was off, displaying the yellow eyes that she had learned to hate. The red cape was draped over his shoulder, clashing his black and white armor except for the symbol marked over his heart.

Most noticeable was the two rings dangling from a necklace. A green and yellow power ring.

Shayera had followed the war even if she couldn’t fight in it. As the years ticked by, it became increasingly impossible to not hear about Prince Tarble. Even if half of the news about him was nothing but propaganda, he was still a legendary commander. A powerful warrior and a brilliant general. That opinion was only solidified when he crushed her empire effortlessly and fought an increasing number of enemies. Even if he wasn't winning, it didn’t seem like he was losing.

Despite his appearances in shows and the like -- Shayera expected Tarble to be a mountain of a man, regardless of his age. Looking at him, it really drove it home. Tarble was a child. A child that grew up in war. He was molded by it until he became… what he was.

“Who are you? Technician?” Tarble questioned, making Shayera blink. There were dark bags under his eyes that brought out the harshness in his gaze. His lips twisting into a frown as he looked at her. This was the most powerful Saiyan alive. His mother wasn’t even second place.

“This is Shayera Hol, previously a Thanagarian military police officer. She performed admirably during a placement test to join the 501st, though there is one issue,” Technician informed and Shayera knew what he was about to say before he said it. “She was one of the two officers sent to planet Earth in an attempt to steal it from you.”

Tarble blinked, turning from Technician to look at her. There was a silent demand in his gaze for an explanation, so she gave it.

“That’s true. My… my husband and I were ordered to go to Earth and endear the human population in favor of becoming vassals to the Thanagarian empire when the offer came. I think the plan was to uplift the humans to take over the sector, but that’s just guesswork,” Shayera admitted. There was no point in hiding it. The records of her involvement had been sealed, swept under the rug -- she hadn’t expected there to be any mention of her, much less that the Freiza-force would learn of her.

Tarble said nothing, so she took the moment to continue. “I was just following orders…” No. She wouldn’t hide behind that excuse. “But I thought it was the right thing to do.”

Tarble tilted his head, blinking at that. “Stealing from me was the right thing to do?” He questioned, sounding a bit put out by the accusation rather than angry. She thought he would be angry.

“I have no love for the Trade Organization. The Thanagarian empire was far from perfect, but we didn’t have slaves. Or slave soldiers that we sent to die by the millions. If it’s a choice between who the humans were better off under the protection of, I believed it was the Thanagarian Empire.” She continued, standing her ground. There was so much that she regretted about that mission, but most of it stemmed from where it led her. Years of depression, drinking, and letting her skills rust.

“Yet here you are,” Tarble pointed out. “If you’re still loyal to your empire, then I’m afraid you’re in the wrong place.”

To that, Shayera shook her head. “The empire… after the mission, my husband and I were swept under the rug. For half a decade, we could do nothing. They took our weapons and badges, muzzled us, and clipped our wings. Because they wanted to hide evidence of wrongdoing. Because of that, my husband is dead. And… from what I have heard of you, Prince Tarble, you are not the Frieza-force.”

He wasn’t. There was evidence of it everywhere, but Tarble shone that much brighter compared to everyone else. The generals that treated lives like numbers, who waged unmitigated slaughter and butchery. Rumors and hearsay painted Tarble as ruthless, but never cruel. He broke the enemy, but he did not slaughter them needlessly. A simple thing. Something that shouldn’t have meant anything, and it only did because he was surrounded by those that didn’t treat the enemy with that same respect.

Tarble hummed at that, “I see. If I put you on a battlefield against your empire, would you be able to kill them?” He questioned, cutting right to the heart of the matter.

Despite herself, Shayera hesitated. It wasn’t an easy thing, betraying her empire. Even if it had betrayed her first and the remnants of it were fading like smoke in the wind. “I would. I wouldn’t like it, but I could do it.” She admitted, following Technician’s advice about honesty.

Tarble’s gaze lingered on her for a moment before he nodded curtly, “Then I will do my best to avoid forcing you to fight your previous comrades. Luckily for you, we have a surplus of opponents,” He said before he turned around. “Welcome to the 501st, Shayera Hol.”

Shayera blinked, surprised that she wasn't dead, much less now a part of a near-legendary force. "I… thank you… Prince Tarble," She said, quickly recovering from her shock. Glancing at Technician, he offered a small smile and a nod, confirming that it had actually happened. That was… not what she expected.

Technician began to lead her out of the room, only for Prince Tarble's voice to make her go still. "Wait," He started, making her look over to see that his gaze was still firmly on the battle plans of a world. "Earth… what was Earth like?"

It was impossible to guess his thoughts from his neutral tone. Shayera considered the question or, rather, she considered how to respond. She had fond memories of Earth. It wasn't a perfect place by any stretch of the imagination, but her time on the planet was well spent. So, how did she make Earth sound like a place that Prince Tarble, a Saiyan, would never want to visit even if it was his property?

"Earth was… peaceful," Shayera told him.

Prince Tarble seemed to consider that for a moment but he didn't respond. And Shayera took her leave.

…

We were stretched thin. So very thin. It had been days since I last slept because I couldn't afford to have my attention lapse for a second. I hadn't stopped fighting enemies for just as long, even now was a brief respite to another fight. Armies needed to be crushed, fleets needed to be turned to scrap and I was one of the few that could halt an advance cold.

My armies were scattered, as was my team. And in turn, my team's armies were scattered across a madhouse of a front that seemed to change by the day. In the eight months it had been since the Khund empire declared, countless others had as well. It got to the point that holding the front on my own was an impossibility. The problem just became something that was beyond me and it concerned the entire Trade Organization.

The Supreme Commander offered aid. The problem was so big that he couldn't be seen to not be doing what he could. Even still, I felt his feet trying to trip me up every step of the way.

"The droid armies?" I questioned, flying forward towards a planet with my scouter in place. Ki gathered in my hands as I predicted to take out their defensive platforms. The shields did their best to hold out, but I didn't have time to waste. There was no time to savor a victory or a challenge. I needed to constantly be moving, leveraging my power to the best of my ability to help with the armies and squads fighting what felt like every empire in the galaxy.

The Ginyu Squad was a great help. Captain Ginyu was definitely mad at me, but he worked just as tirelessly as I did, and his squad was also sprinkled across the front. Including Bardock. The front was in shambles to the point I didn't have time to call him. They were a help but it just wasn't enough.

"Lord Cooler is sending them over. Several of your core worlds have begun production on them as well," Ada'la informed me as I blasted through the atmosphere. I wasn't a fan of droid armies. Their limits were too clear, they had no drive and they could easily be subverted. Yet, I was buying as many as I could.

I was lucky that I had listened to Ada'la about how to utilize my planets. I had been resistant to the idea at first, thinking all of them should be optimized for supporting the war. If I had done that, then I would have bankrupted myself ten times over at this point. Buying slaves by the millions for armies, to populate planets, and to keep the peace at the harsh influx of civilians. Domestic problems were rising -- they were a conquered people, and not everyone wanted to support the enemy who had conquered them.

So I was forced to buy droid armies on the cheap from Lord Cooler. I had to. To keep the peace, to hold the planets that I took, and to absorb losses to buy time for my thinly stretched forces to retaliate.

The planet I was at was a Khund world and it showed. Cities were dotted about, but they were kept small and distant. Yet they had tamed the wilderness and harnessed the planet in their own way. Their own version of an Industrial World. Wasting no time, I flew down to a city and picked out my targets. Ki gathered at my hands and I started blasting away.

The simplest thing to do was to just drop a massive ki blast and wipe the city off the face of the planet. It was the simplest, but I wouldn't do it. Not for moral reasons, but simple practicality -- the Khunds had to want to join me. If I slaughtered their citizens then they would never respect me. Of the planets I had taken, it was because of that respect that the Khund citizens were the most cooperative. And I needed them more than I ever thought possible.

So, I focused on industrial centers. I destroyed their air crafts, their hangars, and the like. Making a show that I was destroying their equipment rather than killing their people. And no sooner than I was done, I flew off to another city to repeat the process. All the while a transmission bombarded the planet, announcing my arrival and demanding their surrender.

"Sinestro?" I said, trying to keep tabs over the entire front. Sinestro helped immensely. As much as them taking planets and defeating armies helped, they distracted the Green Lanterns. Eight months was a long time to recover, and recover they did. They chased Sinestro down like a bloodhound, doing their best to whittle away at them.

"Reports of Blue Lanterns have been confirmed, Prince Tarble," Ada'la said, confirming what I had hoped was a rumor. An image appeared of an alien in a blue rendition of the Green Lantern suit with a different emblem on their chest. "They act as support units to the Green Lanterns, greatly increasing their capabilities. Sinestro is requesting reinforcements."

Damn it.

"Their numbers?" I questioned grimly, rushing to take out the cities as fast as possible. The planet would be crippled before they had a chance to respond at this rate.

"Impossible to tell, but based on reports I would say there is at least one blue for every green," Ada'la informed. I hated that prediction because I thought much the same. So, the number of enemy lanterns jumped from thirty-six hundred to seventy-two hundred.

"I-" I started before I picked up on a power level. A high one. My gaze snapped in the direction of the source, reaching out with my ki sense, but I only found a paltry power level. Something I learned meant that a Lantern was nearby. My gaze landed on a portal of some kind, red as blood that swirled in place. A figure was walking out of it and my lips thinned as I saw that I was right.

A red ring was on their finger and they wore a red rendition of a green lantern's uniform, though the sleeves were missing to reveal scars that ran up their arms. They glowed with a red light, matching the color of his uniform. His skin tone was a dark gray and he had a mane of hair that was stark white pulled back.

A red Lantern. Were we going to go through every color on the spectrum?

The Red Lantern floated forward, gazing down at me. His dark eyes were narrowed into a glare and there was hate in them. I could feel it on my skin. "We meet again, Tarble," The Red Lantern spoke, his voice filled with ice-cold rage.

What?

I blinked in surprise, the action hidden by my visor. We had met before?

"I had hoped that your brother would be first… but you will have to do," The Red Lantern said, holding up a fist that had a red ring on it. It shone with a malevolent light.

He thought I should know him. "My brother?" I questioned, searching for a hint as I hovered in place. This was going to end with a fight. I knew that much. Still, any information about a group of Red Lanterns would be invaluable. I had enough enemies as it was without more lurking in the shadows.

"Your brother purged my planet. He butchered everyone down to the smallest of children. My species… I am the last," The Red Lantern informed and… it said a lot about Vegeta that… well, that sounded just like him. Enough so that the information didn't really narrow it down. Still, the more I looked at him, the more familiar he did seem. I just couldn't put my finger on it. "And now… I am here for vengeance. I shall rid the universe of evil like you, not with my people's magic… but with my rage!"

Yeah, I was drawing a blank. I could feel his anger growing, and I could guess what that ring was fueled by. So, even if it was a mistake that I knew would set him off, I couldn't help myself.

"Who are you?"