Needlework (Serori) [90x]

[Gray Callahan]

Deep, rolling breathes leave the mighty saiyan warrior as he holds one arm behind his back, the other pumping his body weight back and forth. He had continuously swapped arms every four hundred push ups, having done so for about fifty sets so far. He was warming up without the strain of added gravity for the moment, simply attempting to force his muscles to the point of exertion, but alas, it was difficult for the saiyan to grow in strength at this point by such simple exercise.

He had a couple of days left on Nor before he desired to set forth to Namek. He felt that most of the action would be centred on Earth, and that Nor would need no defense from any of his foes, but he would still persist. He would not leave the planet defenseless, not after Vegeta.

The death of his mother-world still haunted him, especially after the rigorous mental training he was put through by Mato. He had been hypnotised, drugged and plugged into the simulator and forced to fight a battle against the dark corners of his own mind. He could change the state of Vegeta with the immense power of Namekian magick, but he could never undo the original mistake that had lead to it's demise. He had to learn from it. A sentient being either has to learn from their mistakes, or perish. That is the nature of survival of the fittest.

Boliko was a survivor. Had been from the moment of his conception. He was brought roaring into the world in a wash of blood, and soon after his parents had been killed and he had escaped with only luck on his side.

He had been alone for most of his youth. The natives on his planet had saved his life perhaps three times in the whole of his pre-toddler existence, but by the time he could walk he could fend for himself. The fauna on Amazonica had learned not to tread on the same soil as he, for in his habitat he was the top predator, the hunter of the night he swept in and took what he desired for his meal. He never took more than he needed, but often he responded in anger should a rival predator attack him, and often he destroyed more than intended to. His power was still unrefined.

By the time he was seventeen, though, his power was stabilised and he could think almost coherently. He remembered his purpose, his vengeance. And he returned to Vegeta, a hostile land. And conquered at as the hunter.

And, days later, the people had chanted his name, and identified him as the top predator of his new ecosystem, the saiyan solar empire.

And, he was still surviving to this day. In every confrontation he had ever fought, he had won. Against Zach, and against Yakedo. The latter had ended in the death of his rival, his enemy... his mirror.

Had it been the right choice?

He stops the exercise. He takes one final, deep breath before pulling himself up. He closes his eyes and raises his head, imagining the warmth and light of the Vegetan star beating down upon his face. He parts his lips and tastes the wind that had begun to taste fresh as the slow bioformation of the planet had allowed it to become, the forests based on samples taken from Earth and Namek slowly bursting alive before fire had consumed all.

He had killed the one known as Yakedo on that day, but there was another here on this very planet, and she deserved his attention.

"Ask for Serori Yakedo." He states allowed, knowing that his small group of troops would be listening to his command.

[Serori Yakedo-Satsumaimo]

Soft feet tread lightly over the fallen leaves of Amazonica. Serori's slight form, with a slight bulge from her tummy, made its way through the waving trees, gracefully sweeping over the rustling ground. It was a beautiful day out in Amazonica, and it was only while being outside like this that she truly felt free. She knew that she wasn't, and her heart and mind were always shouting conflict. But the feeling that she had, outside like this, brought a form of freedom unto her that she had not felt in a while. And the ability to move around, unhindered by tight, warm clothes, feeling the breeze against her skin that didn't threaten to freeze the hair off her head...it was so different from Kold, the planet she'd grown accustomed to.

Warmth of the sun beat up on her cheeks, as she paused, hands resting on her womb, face raised to the sky, eyes closed against the harshness of the bright star. Her hair had grown lengthy, in need of cutting, but for now she let it hang loose, waving down her shoulders and back, dark brown lengths. She wondered what color hair her children would have...black, dark brown, possibly even blonde, like her mother. Serori's thoughts turned to her adoptive parents, and she brought her head back down, seriousness in her eyes, looking through the trees, but not seeing.

Her martial arts training, her first transformation. They'd been taught to her by the Redthew family, each and every one of them well-endowed with muscles and blonde hair. Had it not been for them, her whole life...wouldn't have happened. She'd never have left for Vegeta, never have joined the WTO. But then...where would she be? Stuck on Earth, with some dead-beat job, looking for adventure, which she'd never find? Or would fate, destiny, find its way into making her take her course, and wind up here anyway? What if she'd joined the SSE while on Vegeta...would she have led the course of war against the WTO, attacking Kold? Killed millions of innocents, just for revenge? Most likely not...had it not been for her, Suki may have killed Nam, continuing on his blood-lust rampage...destroyed Earth, killed Geurin, turned on the SSE. Would they have been able to stop him?

All the questions flying around in her head gave her a headache, making Serori dizzy. She took a moment to sit down, letting her purple, blue and silver cracked armor and ripped clothing fold up where it would. Her whole life was a mess at the moment. Her only solace had been in her solitary training, sometimes utilising Jeeves to her advantage, when he wasn't "too busy." How an artificial intelligience could ever be too busy was beyond her. Sometimes she wondered how human he really was...after all, he had been downloaded from someone else, one of Suki's old, trusted advisors. Or something...Serori couldn't even remember.

But now, she was on the planet, afraid to go to her ship, unless she get called out for "trying to escape." She didn't think Boliko would mind if she trained, but some of the soldiers she knew didn't like her at all. Others, on the other hand, had taken a liking to her, listening to her stories, exchanging quick gossip. It took some doing to get Serori to open, but for a few of them, she was now an open book. For instance, Kakarot. He was young, about eighteen. Serori had seen him around a few times, and at first he was harsh, as was she. But eventually they both realised that, although different idealogies, the other was human, had compassion, feelings, and emotions. While their views may contrast, they still had a few things in common, the leading of which being that their home planet had been destroyed.

It wasn't a relationship; it was more of just someone to talk to, for both of them. Kakarot would tell her about how he would get pushed around, for being so small and young. Or have to do the guard duty, or the dishes, or other demeaning tasks, the hardest labor. And, in return, Serori would tell him about Kold, how she'd changed the tides of battle on Earth, changing the heart of Suki, and putting the WTO on a whole other regime. She could see the doubt in his eyes, as most people never did believe that Suki had changed. But he listened, and didn't argue. They got along fine, and Serori was glad to have someone to talk to.

She had been sitting, not that long, when the feeling of energy, rustling of leaves, and movement of air alerted her to an approaching figure, about fifty yards away. Judging by the energy, it was Kakarot, and comparing the speed of air flow to his normal awkward gait, he was approaching more quickly than usual. Probably a message or other from King Boliko. Serori hadn't seen him lately, and she was supposed to be helping him defend the planet. She kept her eyes closed, enjoying the air while she could, until Kakoarot was only a few feet away.

"Wonderful weather today, isn't it, Kakarot?"

The footsteps stopped, and she could tell he was trying to come up with a reply.

"It is indeed, Ms. Serori. And I apologize, but the King has requested your presence, inside. He has asked for you, in the gravity room." Kakarot walked over to Serori, and she opened her eyes, taking in the hues of blue, green, red and brown. "May I help you up?" Serori nodded, grasping his extended hand, and standing all the way up. Letting go of his hand, she brushed herself down, and looked at Kakarot. He stood a few inches shorter than she did, and always blushed when she looked at him. Serori smiled.

"Would you be so kind as to show me the way? I'm afraid I've never actually been there, and don't want to keep King Boliko waiting."

This time it was Kakarot who nodded. He immediately began tromping his way through the woods, Serori trailing after him.

"You know...for a prisoner, you do have awfully good manners."

Once again, Serori was forced to smile, although this one bitter-sweet. Kakarot had probably not meant it, but the word still stung like an insult. Prisoner...that is what she was. No matter how she was treated, good or bad, she was a prisoner.

"I actually learned from my adoptive parents, on Earth. They taught me most everything I know, from my martial arts, to manners, to basic life knowledge."

After that, no more words were exchanged, as they made their way to the gravity chamber.

The door opened, and Kakarot led Serori in.

"Your highness, I have brought Ms. Serori, as requested."

Serori looked upon Boliko, sitting cross legged in the middle of the floor.

"You called for me, Sir?" Serori's voice wavered only slightly. She was not...afraid, per se, of Boliko. But he was much more powerful than she, and he did frighten her mildly, mainly because she hardly knew the man. If he was anything like Rensou, there was no way to tell how he might react to anything.