Planetfall (quest) [FIN]

[Gray Callahan]

The plains are still but for a single wind; growing in force by the second. A glistening object falls from the day, projected by some advanced force... it blasts through the air, a white stream following at it's passing. The wind is now terrific, dust blowing up as the ball passes. It curves downwards until it is skimming the planet Vegeta, and then impacts with a roaring crash. The impact pushes up a crater, as the Attack Ball quickly loses momentum on touchdown, ten metres to every side pushed up to meet the stress demand.

The pod lays still for a moment, smoke rising off of the smouldering surface. The door begins to hiss as it swings up with a clang. A lone figure steps out of the shadows, walking down the pod door. He does not look behind him, the ship was wrecked. Maybe he could get it fixed.

The estranged saiyan Boliko was at his homeworld, and the royals would pay for the dishonour of his parents and the life he had lead for seventeen years previously, on the jungle planet.

The saiyan slips quickly from the crater, his feet pounding the brown dirt as he does a quick three-sixty degree turn, wheeling around and observing the environment around him. He was clad merely in spotted animal hides, presumably some form of wild cat's fur coat (although who truly knew what monstrosities lived on that world; it was gone now, demolished by the saiyan's Ignition Star technique).

His 'instinct' (in truth a very basic form of 'sensory') tells him to fly south (and true to form, a small settlement of saiyans existed in that general region). He levitates in the air, a skill that Boliko had naturally learned due to heritage and need, after many close run-ins with wildlife bigger (but ultimately doomed) than he was as a small child. His heart filled with the heavy weight of a dead-set need for vengeance, he pushes out his chi behind him, slowly at first but then gaining speed as he blasts off in that direction, a white trail following in his wake. Wind resistance pushes against him but he blasts on, having a large amount of energy remaining.

He travels several miles in a few minutes, before beginning to descend. His heart was calm and his mind was angry, a dangerous combination. The type of mindframe a killer took on. Boliko was not yet a killer of fellow man, merely of animals for food and warmth, but he soon would be. He was feeling like the eye of the storm, feeling; hearing the thump of his powerful heart in his chest.

The village drew into sight. Tall wooden walls surrounded the outside, the houses were made of stone. Dark, consuming smoke flows from several chimneys. The saiyan noticed that it was night-time. His body was cloaked by the natural darkness, and his fur coat almost acted as a camouflage. However, the village had several electric lights; should he enter, anyone awake would notice his presence (and if they had a scouter they would more of a reason to, as well; although Boliko did not remember this detail).

Well, the dark man though, let them come.

He lands in what he thought would the centre of the construct, a large street with stone pavements and buildings on either side. His feet touched the ground with a light tuc sound as his ki cuts out. He flexes his muscles. This would be a good place to start his search. He turned to face a building, and raised one hand. A small white light appears in the palm of the hand, which begins to illuminate his face; his eyes cold, dead and monotone. He had but one objective as of now; find out the location of the royal family. The light makes a slight whirring sound as it grows larger.

He unleashes the blast. It fires off with a roar, and the ball flies straight into the wall of the building. It explodes inwards, in on a bedroom; the inhabitants wake with a yelp as the roof collapses inwards, huge amounts of heavy stone, and then a brief silence... before the inevitable shouts and yelps muffled from the other buildings, other saiyans woken by the racket.

Within a minute the first people begin to stream into the street. Several of them, thinking ahead, had pulled on various degrees of armour. Others were still in pyjamas. This was how they had dressed to die.

One of them clad in 'classical' style battle armor approached Boliko, who appeared just as mighty despite being covered in only fur. Despite the ferocious Saiyan facade, the legendary saiyan could sense a certain fear, an animosity. He had had flowing black hair which extended down to just below shoulder length. He was muscular of stature, like a saiyan should be, but nowhere near Boliko's physical prowess.

"You did that! I saw you lower your arm after you fired it. You killed Gerkin, you bastard!" the saiyan roared. Presumably Gerkin was his friend, Boliko thought to himself. The saiyan then swung outwards with his right hand curled into a fist. Boliko noticed the trajectory unconsciously, and raised his left hand to block. He caught the fist in his large palm, before squeezing. He felt bones break and tendons pop.

The saiyan literally squealed, dropping to his knees. One of the onlookers gasped, a female. One of the men shouted, "drop Panbukin!"

Boliko ignored them both. "Where is the king?" he growled, emphasising the last word. The language came out weird from his tongue, guttural; he had never spoken before. His saiyan 'programming' was instinctive, but he had been alone for seventeen years.

"I... I don't know!" Panbukin screamed, blood pouring from a tear in his hand. Boliko snarled, dropping him... before jumping in the air and swinging around with his foot. The kick connected and Panbukin's head ricocheted backwards, then forwards again; his neck snapped, audible. His eyes quickly lose conciousness, a glassy stare out across eternity. One of the women shriek, and several more of the men step forward. One of them had smartly pulled on a scouter, and he now presses one of his hands to the side of his head. Digits scroll across the screen, and his face turns from wonder to terror.

"Fifteen... fifteen thousand!" He stutters. No-one in the village had anywhere near that power. Boliko cocks his head to the side. This would be his next target. He twists, his feet falling softly against the cold stone. His feet were getting quite cold, he hadn't anticipated the change in climate. He would have to take some clothes and perhaps some armour. He'd fit in more that way, in any case. A small smile curls at his lips. He hadn't expected it to be, but the looks of fear were most enjoyable.

The man was frozen still with fear. Boliko plucked the scouter device from his eye, and crushed it in his hands. He gently pulls him closer to the neck. He wasn't aware, but his breath stank of the last meal he had eaten on the jungle world. The man tried to shrink back, but Boliko pulled. "Perhaps you would be so kind to tell me where the king is?" he spoke, his chosen words delicate but reinforced by that same, almost canine voice.

"H-he would be at Ooza City!" the saiyan cried, his warrior's ferocity lost. His scouter had displayed the records the second before being broken, showing that Boliko had been -born- with a higher power than anyone in the village, and even the royal family.

"And where might that be?" he crowed, his eyes sparkling with an insane glee. He stretched his mouth wide, and his teeth were yellow. He certainly didn't have access to dental work on a planetary equivalent to an undisturbed rainforest. "i-it's to west of here; several hundred miles away..." the saiyan manages to gasp. Boliko smirks, dropping him.

"Thank you for your time," he whispers as he fires off a powerful energy ball. It impacts with the saiyan's chest, and he explodes in white light.

The town would follow course.

Two hours later, the general area was a smouldering crater. Boliko picks some meat from his teeth. What type of meat we shall leave to the imagination. He is dressed much like a rich saiyan would; he has comfortable dark boots and a black jumpsuit. His fur coats are discarded, in the place of some of the newer armour; a red chest-plate with attached shoulder-pads, and a belt with attached thigh guards. Finally he had pulled on some black gloves. His belly full and several kinds of hunger satisfied, he begins to walk. His journey to the city would not be simple; it would be treacherous. He would have to walk through the rainforests, and the monsters would perhaps be larger and stronger than those on the jungle-planet he knew very well.

But he had only one thing on his mind; revenge against the family that had killed his own.

[Gray Callahan]

finished.

[Maxxie]

1,350 Pl or Zeni awarded to the fighter.