Bardock
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Soul: Main
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Post by Bardock on Aug 1, 2023 12:26:27 GMT -5
Background
Sometimes Seven didn't understand why he did the things he did, and it unnerved him in a way. In all of his travels within the past year or so, he felt that he was beginning to become more and more aware of what he was doing, of what he was experiencing. In the year prior before his journey, he didn't question much. He moved around on instinct, not purpose. A lot of things he did were on a simple whim. He met a lot of people, fought some people too, but that was all part of the fun to him. However, as the months passed by, and time continued to move on, he a stray thought occurred to him.
What was his purpose?
Originally, he wanted to travel the galaxy and see the sights that he originally wanted to see with his friends, but they were gone now. He remembered what the person who conducted his psychological evaluation said.
"Life is for the living, not the dead."
Truer words had never been spoken to him. He couldn't live his life for people that were no longer alive. They wouldn't wish that of him, so he shouldn't wish that of himself. Still, the pain that he felt in his chest whenever a stray thought or memory takes him back to that day, to that moment that he lost them, aches his heart. The pain he would have to learn to live with, as did so many others. Before he was young and immature. He had thrown a temper tantrum because he didn't get what he wanted. He lacked perspective and clarity. The life that he lived wasn't all about him, but at the same time, it was up to him to find a reason to live, to keep going. The PTO was a safe haven for him. A place for him to go home to. A place of shelter and warmth. He knew that he wanted to serve them, but how? In what way? And why? At first it was out of gratefulness. He was eternally grateful for the PTO for taking him in. His parents, whomever they were, abandoned him at some point in time. He didn't care that they did, however. He held no ill will towards them. Seven just quite simply, did not spare a single thought about them.
Even back then he understood that his parents must have went through something, whatever it was, he did not know, but he was glad that they did go through what they did, for if they didn't then he would not have became a slave in the PTO. It was there that he found friends, and a purpose. But now it seemed that he had reached his apex. That was, he reached a point in time where he could not continue to do what he had done before without breaking through the proverbial barrier to spear head him toward a different direction.
What would his role in the PTO be? What was he good at? Fighting? Who wasn't good at fighting in the PTO? It was pretty much a prerequisite. He wanted to contribute far more than that. He wanted to prove his undying loyalty in a different way. Before, the thought did not cross his mind really.
He was just happy to blindly serve and do whatever he was told. He never questioned orders, and he never questioned his superiors. Not to say that he had become defiant over the past year, but when he looked back at the things that he had done, and what he had wanted, he found that they weren't things that he had wanted.
At least, that's how the PTO boy saw it. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he was overthinking. He did the best he could to live his life without any regrets. Did he regret his choices? No, he couldn't say that. He just questioned his own intentions at the time. Well, he had once heard a phrase that hindsight was "twenty-twenty", meaning that looking back at what he had done would always give a clearer picture than looking toward the future, or to even look at the present.
Speaking of the present...
Seven shook his head. This wasn't like him. To think so much. To undergo an existential crisis. It was completely out of character. For some reason or another he had allowed for his thoughts to veer him off track of his current situation.
He thought over his current predicament once more. This time with a little bit more depth. It was impossible for someone to have been expecting him. However, what if this person had been expecting someone like him. Say, a member of the PTO? What if the ships that escorted him to the planet's surface had orders that any persons on a PTO vessel were to be directed to the man, or woman, in charge of the palace. That could have been very well possible.
This was all new territory for Seven. Thinking critically. He felt his head begin to hurt.
It was just then that he heard footsteps coming from the winding staircase. Each audible step echoed inside of the lobby of the palace. Each step seemed graceful and with purpose. It was akin to hearing the footsteps of someone of royal birth. The rhythmic tapping grew louder as the unknown figure continued his or her descent down the flight of stairs. When the figure came into view, Seven could hardly believe his eyes.
The man before him was a humanoid looking man much like himself. He had blonde hair and stood of average height, just a couple of inches taller than Seven himself. He wore a two piece suit that consisted of a burgundy blazer and a tie to match with a white button-up underneath and burgundy trousers. His dress shoes appeared to have been carved out of wood upon first glance, but upon further inspection that was simply the pattern that his shoes attempted to convey. The material appeared to have been top of the line, perhaps from the planet that Seven was currently on. Whoever this man was, he definitely was at the top of the hierarchy at the palace. However, in spite of his refined air, he gave Seven a welcoming smile.
"Welcome! Welcome! I'm so happy that all of you could--" The man suddenly paused when he realized that the only person in the lobby was, in fact, Seven. In his greeting he had used the term "all of you", meaning that he had expected more than one person to have appeared. Unfortunately, that was not the case.
Confused, the man thought it best to ask Seven a question.
"Uhm, who are you, exactly?" The man asked.
"My name is Seven," He shot him the man a smile back, appearing oblivious to the man's dashed expectations. It seemed as if he had expected to greet a larger audience, but for whatever reason, it did not happen.
"Seven?" The man gave the boy a once over. He appeared to have been nothing more than a teenager at most. By his estimation, about sixteen years old. He dressed in casual attire, nothing more than a tattered tank top and a pair of trousers that the man had seen slaves and miners wear within the confines of their huts.
And of course, the boy's name was quite weird. Who would name their child after a number? But then, it hit him.
"Oh right, you came to this planet in a P.T.O. vessel, correct?" The man asked after the light bulb went off in his head. A gesture in which he displayed by bringing a cupped hand down onto the palm of his other hand.
"Yes sir, I am a member of the P.T.O. but I am currently on a leave of absence. I came to this planet to get fuel so that I can return to my sector of the galaxy and go back home," Seven clarified. He did not know if he should be confirming that he was, in fact, part of the Planetary Trade Organization since the organization had several enemies. In his travels he found that it was best not to divulge such information to any and everyone. It was a hard pill for him to swallow since he, typically, likes to be as earnest and as forthcoming as possible. To him, a lie of omission was still a lie, and it left a bad taste in his mouth. Not only that, but he also felt as if that in hiding his affiliation with the PTO, he was admitting in some sense that he was ashamed of being a part of it. However, he eventually learned that just because he was grateful for the PTO and everything that it had done for him, it did not mean that everyone else he met shared his sentiments. It was a hard pill to swallow, but it was a lesson that he had to take to heart.
"Leave of absence eh?" The man cupped his chin as he contemplated something. What he was thinking, Seven did not know, but he hoped that he hadn't made an enemy of someone. That was the last thing he wanted. His only objective was to get enough fuel in order return to his sector of the galaxy and to planet Frieza. He didn't like the idea of being caught up in anything else at the current moment.
"Okay! I got it!" The blonde man suddenly exclaimed with an exuberant expression.
"How about you help me with my task and afterward you could go return to planet Frieza with me?"
Seven blinked. "With you?"
He then tilted his head to the side.
"Who are you, exactly?"
The blonde and dapper man placed a hand on his chest in an apologetic fashion. "Oh heavens, where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself," The man then gave Seven an exaggerated, yet elegant bow.
"My name is Dorund Trund, and I am a Praetor in the P.T.O. I have been given the task to kill a rather troublesome individual. I had, originally, sent a request to planet Frieza to send extra resources, however, I could just as easily rescind my request in light of your arrival," Dorund explained.
"So, how about it? You help me, and you not only raise your status, but we get to return home as heroes of the Planetary Trade Organization. How does that sound?" Dorund asked Seven. He reached his hand out to the boy in an inviting manner. His outfit gleamed and sparkled as he spoke, as his words were drenched with passion, vigor, and a touch of the divine. He had a way with flair, and was charismatic in his own right. Even though these characteristics were not lost to Seven, they were still, irrelevant to him. This was, perhaps, more so due to the fact that Dorund was used to giving a grandiose sales pitch to pull people in, and to get them to do what he wanted. However, Seven was not like most people.
Dorund had him at "I am a Praetor". Nothing more needed to be said. If a Praetor wanted his help, then he would be more than happy to oblige him. To turn his down would be, in the boy's mind, akin to treason.
"I'm in!" Seven exclaimed with a smile on his face. He reached his hand out to shake the Praetor's, would shot him a friendly smile.
"Excellent! Come with me to my," Dorund beckoned Seven as they began to ascend the winding stair case. The polished railing looked so exotic that Seven had reservations about touching it. He saw that Dorund liked to glide his hand across the railing, so once Seven did the same and felt the surprisingly smooth polish coating against his bare hands, he could not help but immerse his skin against the fine material.
At the top of the flight of steps was a hallway that sectioned off toward two paths. Both hallways were so long that one could not see the end of it with sight alone, however along both paths pinned to the walls were framed pictures of Dorund donning different colored two-piece and three-piece suits smiling at different angles. What was the most astonishing aspect however was that every portrait appeared to have been hand painted. This meant that Dorund must have had to sit and pose for each and every picture for hours, all the while donning different suits again and again. Although it was safe to assume that he didn't accomplish such a feat in one sitting.
Of the two hallways, Dorund lead Seven down the hallway toward the left side, which sparked his curiosity.
"What's at the end of the other hallway?" Seven asked.
"Why my torture chamber of course!" Dorund exclaimed.
"Oh," Was all Seven said.
Dorund turned to shoot Seven an incredulous look.
Seven perked an eyebrow at his gesture. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No, you just seemed awfully nonchalant about it," Dorund explained. "I prefer the surprised expressions on my guests faces when I tell them. Then I can follow it up with a quick, 'just kidding!' and then they visibly relax, although not completely."
"Oh," Seven pondered for a moment, a tad bit confused. "So were you actually kidding? Or were you serious?"
Dorund suddenly stopped walking, which caused Seven to halt in his tracks all the same.
The PTO Praetor turned to face Seven with a wide smile plastered on his visage. However, his eyes darkened with a sinister tinge. "Do you want to see?"
The boy's eyes light up with excitement. "Sure!"
Dorund studied Seven's expression and he couldn't help but feel as if the boy that stood in front of him was, for all intents and purposes, the purest form of evil.
Now Dorund was no stranger to evil. He had seen what other beings were capable of doing to one another. Hell, he was the same way. He could not explain it, but ever since he was a small child, he did not care much for others - including his own family. Now that did not mean that he hated anyone, on the contrary, he found most people to be fascinating. What was perhaps the most delightful characteristic that people had was how they allowed their perception of someone to cloud their better judgement. The Praetor knew that he had to play the part of a good Samaritan in order to get ahead in the Universe. He started off as a business man that sold weapons to different organizations, from the Star Wolves to the Planet Trade Organization and the Saiyan Empire. However, one day the Planet Trade Organization approached him with an offer that he could not refuse. He could earn a permanent place among their ranks and have access to even more valuable resources at his disposal as long as he he sold his weapons exclusively to the Planet Trade Organization. He then quickly rose to the rank of Praetor, and the rest, as they say, was history.
But the boy that stood before him now with all of his shimmering exuberance which illuminated the hallway with an air of jovial and jubilant glee was perhaps one of the most unnerving experiences that Dorund ever had in his entire life. Had he been around Brutes whose eyes gleamed at the chance of murder, torture, and mayhem? Why of course. He had several underlings who worked within the torture chamber that fit the bill. But their capacity for evil came about as a change, or say, a radical shift in paradigms due to a traumatic event. There were some however, whom were much like Dorund in the sense that they had always been who they were.
But Seven? He had an innocence about him that Dorund could not place his finger on. Sure, he was young and impressionable which played a role in fostering his curiosity, but he wondered just how far his curiosity would take him? If he gave him an order to do unspeakable harm to men, women, and children, would he do it?
Would his eyes sparkle at the prospect?
The Praetor was curious.
"Interesting," He mused aloud, which caught Seven's attention for the time being.
"Perhaps I shall show you another time. Oh and do believe that there will be a time," Dorund's lips curved into a devious smile. Crooked and criminal and not at all a part of the facade that he had cultivated throughout the years.
"But for now I must debrief you to the situation at hand in my chambers," The Praetor stated in a matter-of-fact manner. It was business before pleasure - always.
He lead Seven towards the end of the hallway and towards a large door that with that had a portrait of Dorund on it donning a traditional purple cloak that signified royalty.
The Praetor turned to Seven and said, "Personally, this is my favorite painting of me," Before he then opened the door with a single push.
The room was akin to that of a five-star hotel or an upscale apartment or private hostel that the royals on Frieza often presided in. It was large and spacious with all sorts of artistry on display. Although in Dorund's case, there were busts of himself that lined the walls as well as even more self-portraits of himself pinned to the walls.
He was definitely enamored with himself, but that fact did not register within Seven's mind. He found it somewhat endearing in its own way. Not narcissism, but confidence. And how could one climb to the rank of Praetor without being one?
The room had a large television set against the wall closest towards the bathroom which was directly towards the right side of the door. On the opposite side of the television monitor was a desk which doubled as Dorund's personal study, and towards the middle was a small table that had what Seven assumed to have been a game board of sorts with pieces scattered atop of it and two chairs on opposite ends of the table.
Dorund walked towards the table with the game board and began to rearrange the game pieces. After he did so he turned to Seven and gave him a once over before shaking his head, which caused the boy the perk a brow.
"I will have to work on getting you some stylish clothes. What you have on just will not do. It will not do at all," Dorund said while he continued to shake his head.
He snapped his fingers and on command a servant dressed in an all black suit with black dress shoes and green skin walked with waste from a room that was situated on the opposite end of the bathroom. Apparently, that room must have been where the servant lived.
"Please see to it that my esteemed guest here is properly dressed in a tailored three piece suit," Dorund said.
The servant bowed his head. "As you command Praetor," and turned to Seven, who stood stationary for a brief moment and blinked before walking towards the servant.
"Stand still and spread your arms straight out for me Dominus," The servant requested.
Seven did as he was told but winced at the word Dominus. That meant lord right? He had never held dominion over anyone before so he did not know how to take it.
The servant took out a tape measure and began to go to work measuring the boy's frame, all the while Dorund approached his study and took a seat in his chair.
"So, now I shall debrief you upon the situation," Dorund began.
Seven turned his head to the side to give him his ear.
"We are currently on a planet called Praxius Prime. This is a planet that had originally been a part of the Damaskian Empire for thousands of years, however they rebelled and broke away approximately two hundred years ago. This planet enjoyed a period of peace and prosperity ever since. However, there is a person that has sought refuge here with his family. His life is very valuable as well as precious to us. Why, there have been those willing to pay top dollar for his head in a jar!" Dorund began to explain.
At this, Seven could not help but perk a brow.
Although Dorund could not physically see Seven perk his brow, he could tell by his lingering silence that he was taken aback by the business man's motivation.
"Crazy right? Normally we don't take on contracts to kill individuals, especially when we can just leave that up to the Headhunter's Guild," The Praetor opened up a drawer beneath his desk and took out a remote control. He pointed the remote control towards the television set and pressed the power button in order to turn it on. Once he did so, the screen lit up and after Dorund casually flipped through a few channels he stopped at a particular one that showed the face of an elderly man garbed in, what Seven assumed to have been, religious attire.
"This is High Priest Jastin. He is the Prime Minister of the city of Plaxius, the largest city in all of the land. He is the most powerful man in his country and perhaps the most powerful man on the planet. Political officials and ambassadors from other countries across the globe travel to see him and have communion with him," Dorund explained.
"You may put your arms down now, I shall return with your outfit shortly," The servant said with a bow of his head as he briskly exited the room and walked towards his own. Seven blinked blankly, wondering if he was finished or not. He then turned to the Praetor and asked,
"Communion?" He had no idea what that term meant.
"In religion the act of communion is, in laymen terms, a ceremony or ritual in which people come together and exchange gifts or insight with one another. In this case, communion with High Priest Jastin consists of praying and swearing fealty to him and his God," Dorund expanded.
Seven felt his head begin to ache once more. It was a lot of information to take in at once. He knew very little of religion, but he didn't know that it would be so complicated. On Frieza, there were certain people and sects that might have worshiped a being or a deity, but they were few and far between. Thus, he never managed to learn as much as he could about them.
"However," Dorund broke Seven out of his stupor and gave him a sinister glare.
"High Priest Jastin is also using this communion as a front."
Seven perked a brow. "A front? For what?"
"To flush out the PTO," Dorund explained.
Just then the servant briskly entered the room with a bundle of dress clothes folded in picture perfect orientation in his hands. He gave a courteous bow to Dorund before he extended his arm out towards Seven much in the manner one would if they were serving a tray of food. Except, this tray consisted of a three piece suit.
"Excuse me," The servant apologized for interrupting. "But I have picked out your attire. I hope you will find that your suit will be most...suitable," The servant said with a smile.
Seven gave him a bow and took the clothes from his hands. "Thank you," He said.
The servant then exited the room once more and went back to his bed chamber. After a brief pause the door closed directly behind him.
"What does he do in there when you don't need him?" Seven asked out of curiosity. The question seemed random, in which case it was.
Dorund shrugged. "Who knows," He said flatly. He did not keep tabs on his servants. Their free time was just that, theirs. He did not dictate what they did nor did he like doing so.
"Anyways," Dorund continued on. "The High Priest wants to flush us out, at least that is what I suspect. My presence on this planet isn't a secret, as I conduct business here. However, since I am being closely monitored, you can move about stealthily and kill our target."
Seven listened as he placed the clothes he received from Dorund's study and placed it on his desk. The PTO Grunt then began to strip and undress until he was down to his boxers. He was honestly excited to try on some new clothes. Although he wasn't the fashionable type, the garments were handpicked by the servant of a PTO Praetor, so he more or less figured that they would be high in style and better yet, would look exquisite on him.
Dorund continued to speak on unflinchingly. "My plan originally was to evaluate all of my servants, henchmen, and underlings in order to send them off to kill the target, however, come to find out that the target was extremely powerful. So alas none of my poor servants would ever stand a chance," He said as Seven finished up buttoning his all white dress shirt.
Once the Praetor saw that Seven was beginning to have issues with his cuffs, Dorund stood up from his chair and approached him with a passive expression. He took a moment to straighten out the PTO Grunt's cuffs for him. He tugged on them to stretch out the creases and he buttoned his cuff-links for him.
Seven reached to put on his green vest after he straightened out the collar of his dress shirt but Dorund shook his finger.
"No, the tie goes on next," He chided him with a smile. Honestly, was this what it was like to have a son?
Seven nodded and reached for the emerald green tie. He put the collar of his dress shirt up and wrapped his tie around it. After he did so he gave his tie some slack and then he paused for a moment and smiled sheepishly.
"Uhm, I don't know how to tie this," He admitted.
The Praetor chuckled. "Okay, I'll show you, but I'll only show you one time, so pay attention."
"First, you start with the wide end of the tie on the right and the small end on the left, much like how you've done already. The tip of the small end should rest slightly above your belly-button. You only move the wide end of the tie."
"Next, you put the wide end of the tie over the small end of the tie," Dorund explained as he did as he instructed.
"Then, you loop the the wide end of the tie up through the small end of the tie, and once you have done so you tug and pull to the left the side," Dorund continued to demonstrate as he spoke.
"Now this is where things get a little bit tricky, so stay with me, I shall demonstrate slowly," Dorund warned.
Seven nodded.
"You loop the wide end of the tie around the small end of the tie to the right, and before you loop completely around again you put the wide end of the tie up and over the neck loop again but this time you put it down to the right," Dorund said.
Seven was surprised, but he actually managed to follow along so far.
"Now, for the final stage, you pull the wide end of the tie across the small end of the tie to the left, then you go up front through the neck loop once more from underneath by putting the tie up and down through the loop you've just created and..."
Dorund tugged on Seven's tie as he placed it down the loop that he had just created, which he explained but a moment ago. Afterwards he tightened the tie by pulling on the wide end and he took a moment to adjust it by sliding the knot up.
"...There you have it. The perfect Windsor knot."
Seven's eyes lit up. "Wow! That was amazing!" His jubilant expression caused the Praetor to laugh uncontrollably. So much so that Seven tilted his head in confusion. Was what he said that funny?
"You're interesting, you know that?" Dorund said as he wiped away a tear of laughter. He had laughed so hard that his eyes began to water. When was the last time that he had laughed so hard? He couldn't tell you. However, this boy managed to be the cause of it.
Seven was still confused. "What do you mean?"
"Well, you were so interested earlier about seeing my torture chamber. Yet here you are, just as amazed and just as interested about tying a tie. I have to ask, why is that?" Dorund asked him. He doubted that the boy was capable of articulating his point, however, that was exactly why he had asked him. Since the boy was simple minded that meant that he wouldn't be able to rationalize away his character. He would have an honest and pure opinion of himself.
"I'm just curious. I like learning about new things since I had spent most of my life growing up as a slave on Camp Frost on planet Frieza," Seven explained.
"So you lived a sheltered life huh? I understand," Dorund said.
Seven continued to put on the rest of his suit. He put on his black slacks and tucked in his white button-up underneath them. After he buttoned his pants and zipped up his trousers, he put his belt on and buckled it. For the finishing touch, he donned his green vest and stood in front of Dorund with his arms spread wide.
"So, how do I look?" Seven asked him.
Dorund smiled at him. "You look terrific."
Seven shot him a smile back in return. He was glad that he was able to impress the Praetor with his appearance, although most of the legwork was performed by the servant. He was right to say that the PTO Grunt wouldn't be disappointed with his selection. There was a lot of attention to detail involved not only with the size and the fit of his suit but as well as the choice of color. Since Seven had green hair, his vest, tie, and blazer were also green as well. However, his blazer was of a lighter green tinge, meanwhile his vest was of a darker green and his tie was of an even darker variant than that.
If he were to put his suit on in its entirety, then one would see that the shade of green that the shades of green would get progressively darker from the outside in. Dorund himself dressed in a similar fashion, and it was why he believed that his servant was the best around when it came to picking out the best outfits and suits.
"Well Seven," Dorund began to say as he took a seat at the table that was situated in the middle of his room where the game board was, "Since you have such a curious mind, would you like to learn about a board game called chess?"
The PTO Grunt nodded his head. "Sure," he said as he approached the table and took a seat at the opposite end of it.
Dorund began to rearrange the board in a manner that Seven was not particularly familiar with. To him, it appeared that random, but there was a system to it, which the Praetor began to explain to him.
"You see these small pieces here?" Dorund held up a small game piece that had a round top. He noticed that there were a lot more of those pieces than any other piece.
"These are called pawns. You place all of your pawns in the front row," Dorund explained.
"Pawns can only move forward one space at a time. However, in a pawn's initial move they may move two spaces forward instead - but they can only do so once. Furthermore, a pawn cannot capture a piece that is in front of it, only diagonal or adjacent to it."
Seven nodded. He saw that on his side of the board, all of his chess pieces were white, while Dorund had all of the black chess pieces.
"These are your rooks," Dorund continued to explain as he held up a chess piece that shared likeness to a castle of sorts. "These pieces may move vertical and horizontal any number of spaces, however, they can not move diagonal."
Dorund then placed that piece back down and held up another piece that had the appearance of a horse. "These are your knights. They are my favorite piece personally. Knights move in an "L" shape, and they can only do so three spaces at a time," Dorund demonstrated the different directions that knights can move briefly on the board so that Seven would have a better understanding of what he meant.
"And next you have bishops, they can only move diagonally any number of spaces. But they cannot move vertically or horizontally," Dorund explained further.
"Then you have your Queen. She is the most powerful piece on the board," Dorund emphasized. "She can practically move anywhere she wants. She can move vertically, horizontally, or diagonally."
Seven placed his hand on his chin. "So that means she can move like a Bishop and a Rook, but not like a Knight?"
"Correct," Dorund confirmed. "And last but not least, we have the King. The King is your most valuable piece. The objective of the game is to capture your opponent's King while protecting your own at the same time. If your King is threatened to be taken, but you can move to avoid it, or have another piece of yours either take your opponent's piece that's threatening your King, or move in front of your King to shield him, that is called 'Check.' However, if your King has no where else to go, then that is called 'Checkmate' and the game is over and you would have lost. Understand?"
Seven nodded.
"Good, we'll play a practice game just so that you can get used to it. However, I do have a question for you," Dorund paused for a moment to catch Seven's attention.
Seven perked a brow at him.
"What is it?"
"Have you ever killed anyone before?" Dorund asked him with an amused expression.
“Killed?” Seven asked.
“That’s right, have you ever taken someone else’s life?” Dorund asked
Seven shook his head.
“No. I’ve never been asked to.”
Dorund shot him an amused smile as he reached over to move his pawn a couple of spaces forward for the opening move.
“So you’d be willing to kill anyone if you were told to?”
“Sure!” Seven didn’t even spare a moment to ponder. Instead he looked downward at the chessboard and opted to mirror Dorund’s move by moving his middle pawn a couple of spaces forward as well.
“You are quite dangerous indeed, Seven.”
—
The Set Up
There exists a galaxy outside of the contemporary one. Seven traveled outside of it before on more than one occasion. His first stint was a long and perilous journey into the void of space and beyond. He was in the uncharted reaches of space where his ship's astrogation charts was unable to aid him. As it was, he had to manually map out the correct lanes and bypass any and all asteroid fields and blackholes, as well as other space anomalies. It truly was a perilous task, especially for someone such as him. Seven was by no means educated on the finer points of space travel, though he did possess a working knowledge of trade routs and hyperspace lanes during his stint with the Planetary Trade Organization.
After he jumped that hurdle however, it was easy for him to simply retrace his footsteps or in this case, the hyperspace lanes that he had traveled before that took him into the ends of the known Galaxy. The main issue was what came beyond even that.
The space existed between known galaxies was a void of superheated and ever expanding dark matter and plasma that made his ship almost inhabitable. Despite the fact that Seven's shit was a first class dreadnaught with reinforced plating and engine cooling systems to survive in the harshest conditions of space itself, the ship itself almost broke down completely. Temperatures rose to unfathomable heights - his cabin was scorched and his ship floated along dead space. This was the truth of intergalactic travel, and it both horrified and elated him to no end.
What followed were a series of disasters that Seven had to avert just to stay alive. The scorching temperatures for one was rectified with emergency cooling agents that every ship carried into the cargo holds in case temperatures exceeded a certain amount. He applied it all along the hull and eventually the temperatures cooled to a more hospitable level. Next was the outside hull of the ship itself - it began to overheat due to the shear amount of dense hydrogen gas that superheated the plating and almost set off a series of system cascade failures. Seven had to dawn his astromesh suit and traverse the outside hull of the ship itself with as much cooling fluid agents as he could to try and cool down the hull of the ship. Stepping out into the vacuum of space with his suit caused him to sweat profusely in spite of the emergency measures that were built in astromesh suits for temperature regulations. The task itself took hours to complete but thankfully Seven had finally been able to do it. For now, things were as good as it was going to get.
The scariest part however, was due to an issue that he could not fix. That was the navigation itself. He had no idea where he was headed to, as Intergalactic Travel hadn't been known to him. It was less likely that it hadn't been done before, that would have been a silly assumption for him to have made. Seven recognized his ignorance on the subject and didn't think to give himself credit for being a pioneer or anything like that - but the knowledge he did possess was very limited and he had never heard a person speak on the subject before. Perhaps the Scholars on Kelioux would know? That was more than likely, but Seven wasn't the scholarly type nor did he have any curiosity to scour the Academy either. So in that case he simply operated on a bit of a hunch.
Regardless, drifting off into the endless void of space was not a fate that Seven was resigned to. His purpose was exploration, not destitution. The next best thing that he could do was use his ship's super computer in order to scour the net and try to find any information on Intergalactic travel routes. Most information was vague or theoretical, some consisted of astrophysics that spoke on the approximate locations of planets by using a series of equations that would one could plug in to find a nearby planet, which was the case with how Keliouxians discover habitable planets in their own system. Unfortunately, Seven was not capable of completing such tasks, so he instead had to settle on--
Odyssey to Pulsedrive. The author? Tarble.
-
Now that was a name that Seven had not heard in a long time. A long, long time. Tarble was a friend of his that he was well acquainted with. He was a very strong Saiyan that was romantically involved with an android named Luka Gero. They were both well to do people, but unfortunately Seven lost contact with them awhile ago. What were the chances that he would not only stumble upon a book that Tarble wrote, but that the book itself would contain information that Seven would need?
Hmm, what if the book also had clues to Tarble's whereabouts? Well, since it matched the searches that his ship's super computer had done on the Net that related to intergalactic travel, it was a safe bet that Tarble had managed to travel outside of known space and ventured into a different galaxy.
Seven transmitted the book from his super computer to his handheld tablet and began to skim through it. The PTO affiliate wasn't much of a reader at all but he was at least somewhat decent at scouring books for relevant information to his plight - knowing how to avoid the fluff was definitely a gift. Though Tarble seemed to have used a lot of fluff in his book, but thankfully it didn't take long for Seven to stumble upon relevant information.
It was chronicled within the book that Tarble left known space for reasons that Seven could not quite understand. Apparently there was a fierce battle or another that occurred and Tarble had lost it, thus he decided to leave and create a new life for himself and his family. Admirable in from a certain point of view perhaps, but Seven couldn't understand what was so bad about losing to someone stronger than himself. Heck, that was the best part of fighting. Especially if your opponent had muscles like his hero Bassolarr. Such a huge hulking figure with bulging biceps that were sculpted from the finest of marble, abs that popped out of his skin, triceps larger than boulders, shoulders raised upon his back like mountains....
Anyways, reasons aside, Seven managed to find a detailed Intergalactic Hyper Space route in Tarble's book. Most ships were equipped with jump drives, and expensive ships were equipped with hyper drives to traverse the galaxy in days, or sometimes even minutes depending on how close two different star systems were. Thankfully, Seven's ship was well equipped with its own Hyperdrive, so he was able to carefully plot the route through his navicomputer, which then pinged him that the route he inputted was not known to it. That was a safety measure for pilots to double check their work, which Seven did. The worst case scenario would be to pop out of hyper space and appear in front of a sun, or a black hole. That would definitely cut his explorations days short.
Once Seven double checked his work, he inhaled and muttered, "Alright, here we go!" Before he confirmed the coordinates. In a matter of moments his ship chimed and the hyperdrive engaged. Ticking and buzzing sounds rattled in his ears as the ship's ion engines sparkled to life, illuminating his ship with warm iridescent lights. In the next moment his ship jumped into hyperspace, and Seven exhaled as he thanked his lucky stars for managing to find an accessible hyperspace lane.
The journey through the hyperspace lane itself was an easy one. Seven occasionally checked the navicomputer to ensure that he not only remained on the correct route, but that there weren't any anomalies that barred his path as well. Thankfully he wasn't hindered to as his ship made it's way through hyperspace. The estimated time of arrival was around a standard day or so. Hmmm, so Seven wondered to himself...what should he do in the mean time?
Well he did like to use his meditation gem from time to time, so he figured that he would kill time with that instead.
With that in mind Seven made his way to his chambers and managed to pull out his meditation gem. His gem was pearly white and it had the ability to send his mind and his spirit to the astral realm if he focused his energy into it. Once Seven grabbed his gem from his drawer he sat down onto the ground cross legged in a meditative stance and focused his mind and spirit into the gym. After awhile his mind was transferred into the astral realm where he floated off into a different dimension. However, it didn't take long for him to sense a familiar spirit near him. One that he hadn't sensed in a long time...
"Is this...?" Seven followed the source of energy. It was a large source of energy, larger than he had ever felt in a long time. Such Ki signature used to belong to one of his friends.
The PTO patriot followed the source through the abyssal realm until he ran into a source of light and through that light he found himself face to face with the essence of the power source.
He was short with spiky dark hair and he donned Saiyan armor. His hair stood on end, and the man had a tail.
"Tarble!" Seven exclaimed to him with a wide smile.
His voice caught Tarble by surprise as he turned to him with a shocked expression, but that shock soon changed into one of delight as the pair embraced one another in a brotherly fashion.
"Seven, how have you been?" Tarble asked him. Seven noticed that Tarble seemed quite at peace, as if a wave of calm had washed over him. It was serene in a sense, and a trait that Seven hadn't seen in too many people that he had met in his travels. To be at such peace was rare in a way, but it was also very difficult to achieve in turbulent galaxies.
"I've been good! I've been traveling around and exploring the galaxy. There hasn't been a lot of work for me to do with the PTO lately, things have been changing. I missed the good ol' days when things were simple, ya know?" Seven said.
Tarble couldn't help but chuckle at what Seven said. "By simple you mean fighting right?" The saiyan asked him.
"Yep!" Seven said back with a smile. "There's a lot of paperwork involved now though with trade disputes. It's sooo boring, but I understand that it's necessary."
"You've always been restless, Seven," Tarble said with a smile. To lay eyes on him felt surreal in a sense. Not just due to the passage of time, but due to the fact that Seven hadn't really been known for his adventurous nature the last time he met him. If anything, Tarble believed that Seven simply wanted to be with the PTO for however long he could as that was within his comfort zone. It was strange that the boy would just up and vanish just because he was bored but apparently Tarble didn't know him as well as he thought he did.
"Yea, I didn't like the idea of leaving, but traveling can be fun too. Oh! That reminds me! I happened to have stumbled on your book about intergalactic space travel. I'm actually using it now to make my way to a different galaxy."
Tarble was surprised by this revelation. His eyes went wide and he gawked at what Seven had just said. "Really?!"
"Yea! I managed to make my way towards the edge of the galaxy past planet Frieza into uncharted territory. The space beyond the map is crazy! I had to navigate myself through the asteroid fields manual and even then it was difficult to do. If there was a black hole ahead then I did my best to try to avoid it entirely. It was too dangerous!"
Tarble marveled at what Seven said. Truly, this boy was something else. To do what he did was reckless to say the least. Even experienced space explorers wouldn't dare explore uncharted territories in space without some sort of map or guide, which was usually done with space droids and probes. To do it in person was almost suicide.
"Hmmm, well, I'm glad that you're safe, but that was dangerous you know," Tarble couldn't help but to chide Seven for his recklessness. Though he did admire his fearless nature. "In my book I did specify that I used space probes to map out the unknown regions beyond the edges of the galaxy map. Some information was actually more common place than we thought, so traveling for us was all about digging for information," The Saiyan explained.
When it came to information on intergalactic space exploration it wasn't an easy thing to come by. But Tarble figured that planets on the edges of known space would be better versed on such topics, such as Frieza or Damaskia or even Kanassa.
However, the true knowledge one would find could be found on planet Kelioux. The mysterious race, The Lost, were bastions of technology and efficiency. Theirs were the harbingers of the galaxy, and it was said that they themselves arrived from a different galaxy, or a different solar system entirely.
Regardless, Tarble wondered what Seven's own experiences were like with space travel so far.
"Is this your first time traveling through intergalactic space?" He asked his friend.
Seven nodded his head. “Technically it is, I guess. I ended up landing on another planet years ago, but I haven’t traveled since then.”
Tarble nodded his head in understanding. He then said to Seven, “Oh hey, since you’re on your way here anyways, why not come to my wedding?”
Seven perked up at this.
“Wedding? I thought you were already married.”
“I am but Luka and I never had a chance to have a ceremony. You can even be my best man,” Tarble offered with a smile.
Seven didn’t have to think twice about the offer. He nodded his head with a wide grin etched on his face. “Sure! I’d love to!”
Tarble smiled wide and he matched Seven’s grin with one of his own. “I’m happy to hear it! Let me know as soon as you touch down on the planet.”
“Okay, I’ll let you know,” and their telepathic link was severed.
—
The changing room was adorned with elegant decorations and soft music plays in the background. Tarble stands in front of a mirror, adjusting his tie nervously. Seven, dressed in his best man suit, stands nearby, trying to keep his emotions in check as he watches his best friend prepare for his wedding.
“Seven, can you believe it? Today's the day.”
A shadow of a smile was etched on Seven’s lips.
“I know, Tarble. It's incredible. Luka is lucky to have you, and you two make a perfect couple.”
Tarble glanced at Seven in the mirror, a mixture of excitement and nerves in his eyes.
“Thank you for being my best man, Seven. I'm so glad you're here with me on this special day.”
“Of course I’ll be here for you. You’re my friend after all.”
As Tarble continues to prepare, Seven's mind races with conflicting thoughts. He wants to cherish these final moments with his best friend, but his mission was also on his mind as well.
“Remember the first time we met in the Astral Realm?” Tarble asked him.
Seven couldn’t help but smile. “Yea, I do. It was after my friends died. I was pretty sad back then.”
Tarble turned to face Seven, a genuine smile on his face.
“Well you've always been there for me, Seven, through thick and thin. And I have tried my best to be there for you too. I can't imagine going through this day without you.”
“And I'll always be here for you, Tarble. You’re my best friend,” Seven offered him a smile that matched his.
As the tension in the room eases, Tarble's excitement starts to shine through.
“Enough about me. How's your love life, Seven? Any special someone?”
Seven hesitated for the briefest of moments before speaking.
“Oh, you know me. I love the P.T.O.”
Tarble chuckled, not suspecting anything amiss.
“Well, don't let work consume you completely. You deserve to find someone who makes you happy.”
The PTO is what makes me happy.
“Hmm, I guess you’re right,” Seven contemplated his words. “Maybe one day.”
Tarble finished dressing up and grinned from ear to ear as he gave himself a once over in the mirror.
“Alright, let's get this show on the road! It's time for me to marry the love of my life.”
—
The End
The air is thick with anticipation as the elegant wedding venue is adorned with twinkling fairy lights and flowers. Guests fill the room, laughing and clinking glasses to celebrate the union of Tarble and his blushing bride. Seven stands among them, a best man filled with an insurmountable burden.
Seven's eyes dart anxiously, torn between loyalty and duty. His inner turmoil is visible, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he clutches the hidden weapon in his pocket. He and Tarble have been through everything together, and now, circumstances have forced them into a tragic confrontation.
Tarble, oblivious to the turmoil inside his best friend, is radiant, wearing a smile that could light up the world. He stands at the altar, his beloved beside him, exchanging vows of love and commitment. The guests watch, enchanted by the moment, but Seven's heart pounds with dread.
As the ceremony nears its climax, Seven's grip on the weapon tightens. His mind races, replaying memories of their laughter, their shared dreams, and the bond they once swore to uphold. But the past is just that – a fading memory. Present realities press heavily upon him.
Seven muttered to himself in a faint whisper in order to harden his resolve. Over and over he went over the plan in his head, the jovial sounds in the background faded into nothing more than white noise.
The vows are spoken, the rings exchanged, and the couple sealed with a tender kiss. Applause fills the room as the guests celebrate the newlyweds' love. But Seven's world has narrowed to a single moment of unbearable anguish.
Tarble, beaming with happiness, awaits his bride at the end of the aisle. His eyes meet Seven's, and a warm smile spreads across his face, unaware of the dark intentions lurking behind that friendly gaze.
Seven’s mind was clouded, maybe even conflicted. Never once had he ever felt his loyalty to the PT.O. tested like it had been today.
Will I be the instrument to my best friend’s downfall?
The Organization's directive echoes in Seven's mind, the voice of Dorund Trund was cold and ruthless.
“Remember your purpose, Seven. Poison him during the toast. His defenses will be down, and you will have the advantage later.
The weight of the vial of poison hidden in Seven's pocket seems to grow heavier by the second. He glances at the wedding guests, oblivious to the danger lurking in their midst. Among them is the woman he once loved, now engaged to Tarble, a cruel twist of fate.
The ceremony proceeds with love and laughter, but Seven feels a growing emptiness inside. Memories of their shared past flash before him—adventures, laughter, and the bond they once swore would never break. Now, Seven must betray that bond for the sake of his allegiance to The Planetary Trade Organization.
As the time for the toast approaches, Seven's heart pounds in his chest like a war drum. He clutches the vial, feeling its coldness seep into his hand, a chilling reminder of the cold path he must walk.
Tarble raised his glass, a shimmering champagne flute, and looked expectantly at Seven.
The Saiyan grinned wide at his best man.
“Seven, my best friend, give us a toast!”
Seven forced a smile.
“To Tarble and his beautiful bride, may your love shine bright and your hearts remain forever entwined.”
Seven's words rang hollow even to his own ears. His hand trembles ever so slightly, but he managed to mask it.
As the guests cheered, Seven covertly emptied the contents of the vial into Tarble's champagne flute, the clear liquid swirling with the invisible threat.
The toast concludes, and Tarble lifts the flute to his lips. Seven watches with a heavy heart, a sense of betrayal overwhelming him. Tarble takes a sip, blissfully unaware of the poison
coursing through his veins.
It's done. Now I have to wait for the right moment to finish this.
As the celebration continues, Seven slips away to a quiet corner, trying to compose himself. He gazes at the weapon in his trembling hand, the metal cold against his skin, a symbol of the impossible choice he faces. The conflict rages within him - his loyalty to Tarble against his duty to a dark and shadowy force.
Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps breaks his trance. Tarble emerges from the crowd, beaming with happiness, unaware of the darkness that looms over his wedding.
Tarble approached Seven with a wide smile and placed his hand on his best man’s shoulder.
“Hey, old friend, why are you hiding back here? The party's in full swing!”
Seven returned Tarble’s smile as he tried his best to keep his sinister thoughts at bay.
“Just taking a moment to catch my breath, Tarble. It's been an emotional day.”
Tarble embraces Seven warmly, oblivious to the inner turmoil. Seven's grip on the weapon tightens, his heart pounding in his ears.
Tarble responded earnestly.
“I don't say it enough, but you're like a little brother to me, Seven. I'm so glad you're here with me on this special day.”
Seven responded without missing a beat.
“And I'm glad to be here, Tarble.”
Tarble steps back, searching Seven's eyes for something he cannot quite place.
The Saiyan’s discerning glare almost made Seven want to retreat within himself. What was this feeling? Was he…anxious?
“Are you sure everything is alright?”
“Yes, everything's fine. Let's get back to the party!”
Seven's voice trembled, and Tarble sensed that something was amiss. But before he could probe further, a shadowy figure stepped out from the darkness, concealed by the dim lighting.
The apparition spoke in a short tone.
“Seven, it's time.”
The figure is a haunting presence, a symbol of the forces that have coerced Seven into this unthinkable act. Seven's mind screams in agony, torn between his love for his best friend and the
consequences of defiance.
Seven knew what he had to do. He turned to face the Saiyan, his best friend, with eyes cooler than glaciers on Frieza.
“I'm sorry, Tarble. I have no choice.”
As the realization dawns on Tarble, his face turns from concern to shock and betrayal.
Tarble’s voice turned to betrayal.
“Seven, what is this? What have you done?”
Seven’s gaze remained steady as he raised his weapon even with Tarble’s heart.
“I'm sorry, Tarble. I never wanted any of this. But it must be done.”
Shock and awe was plastered on Tarble’s visage. His expression twisted with pain and vexation.
“How could you? After everything we've been through?!”
Seven took a step forward.
“I had to. The P.T.O. has given me everything. I owe them my life.”
Tarble could hardly contain his emotions now. His eyes began to water as his life began to flash before his eyes.
“And this is the price?! My life?! Our friendship?!”
“Yes.”
Tarble attempted to summon as much power as he could, but he was unable to do so. His strength, his awesome might, it failed him when he needed it the most. Why? He thought.
Why can’t I summon my Ki?
“The poison I slipped in your drink should have taken effect by now. I’m sorry Tarble, but this was the only way.”
Seven took another step forward, and this caused Tarble to backpedal. The hurt in his eyes spoke more to the PTO patriot than words ever could.
As silence lingered between them, there was only one more thing that Seven had to say.
“Universal Terror sends their regards.”
And a hollow shot rings out, the silencer muffled the echo of the gun.
Tarble clutched his chest and blood oozed from his wound. One more shot to his stomach send him to his knees, and the final shot to his head sent him to the afterlife.
-
Seven stood tall and stoic in front of his superior, Dorund Trund, in the imposing Command Center of Planet Frieza. The room was dimly lit, surrounded with advanced technology and a holographic projection of the greater galaxy.
The weight of his recent actions during Tarble's wedding was still fresh on his mind.
“Seven, report. Did you carry out the mission?” Dorund asked him.
Seven responded coolly.
“Yes, Commander. I did what was required of me.”
Dorund studied Seven’s gaze carefully, seemingly looking for any sign of remorse or hesitation.
Dorund’s eyes sparked with curiosity as he leaned in his hoverchair.
“And what did you feel when you betrayed your friend?”
“Nothing at all.”
A sinister smile was etched on Dorund’s face as he was satisfied with Seven’s answer.
“You truly are an interesting one. You know that?”
Seven said nothing.
“You truly place the Planetary Trade Organization above all else. I admire that.”
At this the boy bowed his head in appreciation. “Thank you, Praetor Dorund.”
“You have proven your loyalty, Seven. Your dedication will not go unnoticed.
“Thank you, Commander. I am at the P.T.O.’s disposal.”
Dorund nodded. “Very well. Your next mission will be given in due time. You are dismissed.”
As Seven turned to leave, his mind drifted back to the image of Tarble's hurt and betrayed face during the wedding. He suppressed any sign of remorse, reminding himself that this was the path he chose to follow.
It was the path back home.
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