01-11-2011, 03:00 AM
“Hell yes.”
Juno repeated the alien’s words in his head.
“We are at war, your people and our people,” it had spoken, quite articulately, “It is a historical accident, a cosmic contingency. We must expand our territory, and the planets in this area are fertile, and promising. We are not here to murder soldiers and ravage women; we just need more land, and water, and resources. This is a story unfamiliar to you? Warfare? The need for expansion?”
So, that was it — these extraterrestrials felt like they had some sort of right to expansion, some sort of ‘manifest destiny.’ Now, this particular alien, probably a commander of some sort, attempted to justify their atrocities with this. As if it was a necessity. To be honest, Juno couldn’t blame them; he almost felt sorry for them.
“We are poised to win,” the creature continued.
Aren’t you being a bit presumptuous?
“Your militia knows it, and we know it,” it ignored the thought that Juno had projected telepathically. Or maybe it didn’t, and this was its response; either way, it continued its diatribe: “A quicker end to the conflict would save our lives and your lives. Thus, we keep our stocks open. You are invited to join us.”
Shit, Juno thought, a scowl crossing his face. That was it; that was the big thing. They had been in this cell for days — Boomstick spewing conspiracy theories, Rex constantly telling him to shut up and eat his damn food, and Juno sitting in the corner, not uttering a word to either of them. And now, it all came to this: a single decision, whether to abandon the people they fought for, or not. To the half-Saiyan, the choice would be simple; but he was content to listen to the alien’s speech.
“Tentative, of course,” the alien clarified, “And with a degree of suspicion, as you could not yet be trusted thoroughly.”
That’s a way to win our hearts.
“But,” it said, once again ignoring Juno’s sarcastic thought, “We nevertheless extend the invitation.” Boomstick and Rex remained entranced; the hybrid’s telepathic messages were not for them to hear, or be distracted by. “Rest assured, you would not be the only ones. You are medics, yes? We have need of such persons as well.”
Juno knew it was coming. It was only a matter of time before they brought up the next matter, because they couldn’t have honestly thought that their sob story was going to convince the likes of meatheads like Boomstick, or self-obsessed survivalists, like Rex. To be completely honest, though, he might’ve expected the idea to have been ignored by these aliens — by the way they’d been treated, he didn’t expect them to know customs of the North Quadrant, and this, he thought, might’ve been one they had overlooked.
“You would, of course, be well-rewarded.”
There it was.
“What say you?”
“Hell yes.”
Juno looked to his left; Boomstick had stood up, and the declaration of loyalty had come from him. He narrowed his eyes, confused; Boomstick hadn’t exactly seemed like the most patriotic person in the first place, but the idea that he would just give up on the defense of Namek without thinking about it for a few minutes showed his true stupidity. Juno, on the other hand, sat in silence, weighing his choices.
“I’m not sticking around if not even our militia has the balls to put forth their effort in the fight,” Boomstick said, lifting up his shotgun. “Come on, guys, stop being pansies and sitting there, these guys are offering us a way to stay alive.”
“You wouldn’t stay alive even if you joined them, Boomstick.”
The red alien turned his gaze to the half-Saiyan. “So,” he muttered, “Whiny little Juno finally decides to open his trap, eh? And what makes you think that I’d die any sooner than you would?”
The hybrid refused to reply, but merely stared at a single spot on the floor, vacillating. In all honesty, there would be so many benefits to joining the aliens — the chances of staying alive were, like Boomstick said, much more likely with the invaders, and because of the promised reward, choosing their side would probably end up being much more lucrative.
“Whatever, sit there and mope if you want,” Boomstick scoffed, “Come on, Rex, let’s go see what these people want us to do.”
“Boomstick, are you… sure?” Rex asked, looking up at his partner, “I mean, yeah, it sounds great, but… we’re going to just let them enslave us? I mean, I guess, if we helped them, we wouldn’t end up being slaves, so… I… guess it’s the right decision, for us, I mean, you know, for our own well-being…”
“Exactly, now get up,” the red-skinned man said, grasping Rex by the arm and yanking him onto his feet. Rex glanced at Juno, but the half-Saiyan hadn’t budged since his sarcastic aside to the tallest of the trio.
Boomstick was ushered out the door, and leaned on the wall outside, relishing in his freedom. Rex hesitantly followed, shooting another glance back at Juno — the alien representative turned back to the cross-legged half-Saiyan, and looked down at him. The hybrid’s eyes didn’t move; they stayed fixated on that spot on the floor, as if that spot were the most interesting thing in the room. The yellow-robed alien placed its hands in its pockets, and sighed impatiently.
Several minutes passed, but to Juno, and to the invader, it felt like a lifetime. Only after what seemed like forever did Juno speak.
“No.”
The humanoid’s eyes widened. “Think about what you’re doing, Juno.”
“I’ve thought about it long enough,” the hybrid replied, lifting his head up and looking the alien in its eyes, “And I’ve made my decision. I don’t want to join you.”
The alien sighed again, this time in frustration instead of impatience; Rex’s eyes brightened, and he began to move back to the door, placing his hand on a bar and leaning in, smiling a small, unsure smile as he looked at the half-Saiyan, whose gaze indicated that he was firmly staying with that position.
“Juno,” the alien hissed, “Joining us isn’t the right choice. It is the only choice.”
“Fuck you.”
The alien lifted up a hand and gestured to one of the guards outside. The summoned invader grasped the translation device and carried it away; it looked as if everything that was going to be said had been said, and now all that was left was action. To the other guard, the robed invader said something in their native tongue.
The soldier stepped into the cell, and grasped tightly onto Juno’s arm. It pulled him forcibly off the ground, and the hybrid grunted in pain. Rex stepped back out of the way as he was removed from the cell, and carried down the hallway. As he tried to keep pace with his ‘guide,’ he could hear the chortling of Boomstick behind him. He resisted the urge to turn around and shoot him in the gut with a ki blast.
The hallway, like the silence just minutes before, seemed to extend forever, before finally, Juno found himself bathed in the sunlight of Namek’s twin suns. He squinted his eyes; the sudden admission of light into them almost blinded the hybrid. Slowly, the area around him began to come back into focus.
He was in the encampment — the one he’d seen from the cliff just days before, just before they’d captured him. The buildings rose around him, rusted and brown, like something that might’ve been seen on Mercy, or in a steampunk-influenced science fiction film. He looked around, and saw towers, and shabby houses, probably barracks for the aliens; and then, as they turned the corner, he saw them. Hundreds of aliens, either wearing armor, colored yellow and black, or — and these were much fewer in number — wearing yellow robes, much like the invader that had stepped into their cell.
On the horizon was a platform, large, built out of metal. It was a stage, and there was a bar hanging over it, supported by two columns — a ‘proscenium arch,’ as it were. It seemed that their resemblance to humans was closer than Juno expected; they also shared punishment methods that Earth had utilized in its early history. Tightly knotted around the top bar were three ropes, all tied into nooses. Juno supposed that the aliens had prepared for all of them to deny their offer; he doubted, however, that they’d expected rejection from any of them.
Ushered onto the stage, the hybrid grunted in pain once again as they shoved him onto the metallic floor; the invaders cheered, and as Juno scanned the crowd, he saw Boomstick laughing in the back, a nervous, shaking Rex standing at his side. His scowl deepened — this was not how things were supposed to happen; this wasn’t glory, this was death. This was fucking death, and that was not cool at all.
His tail twitched. It had floated there, ever since it’d grown back, and after about the first week of reclaiming it, Juno had actually stopped noticing it was there; but now it seemed to be calling to him, calling his attention. He stared at it for a moment — it wanted something. The hybrid shook his head, attempting to erase that from his mind — when he died, he didn’t want to be thinking about his tail sending him weird, unconscious messages.
He didn’t completely know why he had denied the aliens’ offer. Maybe it was out of some weird sense of righteousness he’d adopted throughout the years, or out of some Saiyan determination to just not give up fighting these bastards — he suspected it was the former, because he imagined that two years ago, before all of the shit that had happened the last two years had come to pass, he would’ve taken the selfish track. He would’ve wrapped himself in a yellow robe, no questions asked, and slaughtered those fighting ‘the good fight.’
Now, though, he was fighting ‘the good fight.’ And for whatever reason, he wasn’t going to let that go.
“This man has chosen not to join us,” the alien guard said, and Juno looked over to see why he could understand — one of the translation devices had been built into the stage. So, they want the victims to hear their insults before they hang them, eh?
There was a rumble of excitement in the crowd, and the guard came over and socked Juno in the face; the hybrid’s cheek slammed into the metal stage, reddening from the impact. “He must be punished for his insolence, and for his pointless dedication to a dying cause! What say you?”
A roaring cheer broke out amongst the aliens, and they yelled what he thought to be profanity in their language at him. He caught a few of their insults, those who were close enough to the stage to be translated. The guard grasped Juno’s arm again, clutching tightly — almost as if he feared the hybrid would try to escape, even in his weakened state — and drug him over to the noose, lifting him up and slipping his head through the rope. The hybrid took a deep breath as the hoop was tightened around his neck, already strangling him for air, and the guard stepped over to the lever. Juno took a glance down at the small square cut in the floor below — the trapdoor would drop and the pull of that lever, and he would be dead.
Juno’s tail twitched again.
Juno repeated the alien’s words in his head.
“We are at war, your people and our people,” it had spoken, quite articulately, “It is a historical accident, a cosmic contingency. We must expand our territory, and the planets in this area are fertile, and promising. We are not here to murder soldiers and ravage women; we just need more land, and water, and resources. This is a story unfamiliar to you? Warfare? The need for expansion?”
So, that was it — these extraterrestrials felt like they had some sort of right to expansion, some sort of ‘manifest destiny.’ Now, this particular alien, probably a commander of some sort, attempted to justify their atrocities with this. As if it was a necessity. To be honest, Juno couldn’t blame them; he almost felt sorry for them.
“We are poised to win,” the creature continued.
Aren’t you being a bit presumptuous?
“Your militia knows it, and we know it,” it ignored the thought that Juno had projected telepathically. Or maybe it didn’t, and this was its response; either way, it continued its diatribe: “A quicker end to the conflict would save our lives and your lives. Thus, we keep our stocks open. You are invited to join us.”
Shit, Juno thought, a scowl crossing his face. That was it; that was the big thing. They had been in this cell for days — Boomstick spewing conspiracy theories, Rex constantly telling him to shut up and eat his damn food, and Juno sitting in the corner, not uttering a word to either of them. And now, it all came to this: a single decision, whether to abandon the people they fought for, or not. To the half-Saiyan, the choice would be simple; but he was content to listen to the alien’s speech.
“Tentative, of course,” the alien clarified, “And with a degree of suspicion, as you could not yet be trusted thoroughly.”
That’s a way to win our hearts.
“But,” it said, once again ignoring Juno’s sarcastic thought, “We nevertheless extend the invitation.” Boomstick and Rex remained entranced; the hybrid’s telepathic messages were not for them to hear, or be distracted by. “Rest assured, you would not be the only ones. You are medics, yes? We have need of such persons as well.”
Juno knew it was coming. It was only a matter of time before they brought up the next matter, because they couldn’t have honestly thought that their sob story was going to convince the likes of meatheads like Boomstick, or self-obsessed survivalists, like Rex. To be completely honest, though, he might’ve expected the idea to have been ignored by these aliens — by the way they’d been treated, he didn’t expect them to know customs of the North Quadrant, and this, he thought, might’ve been one they had overlooked.
“You would, of course, be well-rewarded.”
There it was.
“What say you?”
“Hell yes.”
Juno looked to his left; Boomstick had stood up, and the declaration of loyalty had come from him. He narrowed his eyes, confused; Boomstick hadn’t exactly seemed like the most patriotic person in the first place, but the idea that he would just give up on the defense of Namek without thinking about it for a few minutes showed his true stupidity. Juno, on the other hand, sat in silence, weighing his choices.
“I’m not sticking around if not even our militia has the balls to put forth their effort in the fight,” Boomstick said, lifting up his shotgun. “Come on, guys, stop being pansies and sitting there, these guys are offering us a way to stay alive.”
“You wouldn’t stay alive even if you joined them, Boomstick.”
The red alien turned his gaze to the half-Saiyan. “So,” he muttered, “Whiny little Juno finally decides to open his trap, eh? And what makes you think that I’d die any sooner than you would?”
The hybrid refused to reply, but merely stared at a single spot on the floor, vacillating. In all honesty, there would be so many benefits to joining the aliens — the chances of staying alive were, like Boomstick said, much more likely with the invaders, and because of the promised reward, choosing their side would probably end up being much more lucrative.
“Whatever, sit there and mope if you want,” Boomstick scoffed, “Come on, Rex, let’s go see what these people want us to do.”
“Boomstick, are you… sure?” Rex asked, looking up at his partner, “I mean, yeah, it sounds great, but… we’re going to just let them enslave us? I mean, I guess, if we helped them, we wouldn’t end up being slaves, so… I… guess it’s the right decision, for us, I mean, you know, for our own well-being…”
“Exactly, now get up,” the red-skinned man said, grasping Rex by the arm and yanking him onto his feet. Rex glanced at Juno, but the half-Saiyan hadn’t budged since his sarcastic aside to the tallest of the trio.
Boomstick was ushered out the door, and leaned on the wall outside, relishing in his freedom. Rex hesitantly followed, shooting another glance back at Juno — the alien representative turned back to the cross-legged half-Saiyan, and looked down at him. The hybrid’s eyes didn’t move; they stayed fixated on that spot on the floor, as if that spot were the most interesting thing in the room. The yellow-robed alien placed its hands in its pockets, and sighed impatiently.
Several minutes passed, but to Juno, and to the invader, it felt like a lifetime. Only after what seemed like forever did Juno speak.
“No.”
The humanoid’s eyes widened. “Think about what you’re doing, Juno.”
“I’ve thought about it long enough,” the hybrid replied, lifting his head up and looking the alien in its eyes, “And I’ve made my decision. I don’t want to join you.”
The alien sighed again, this time in frustration instead of impatience; Rex’s eyes brightened, and he began to move back to the door, placing his hand on a bar and leaning in, smiling a small, unsure smile as he looked at the half-Saiyan, whose gaze indicated that he was firmly staying with that position.
“Juno,” the alien hissed, “Joining us isn’t the right choice. It is the only choice.”
“Fuck you.”
The alien lifted up a hand and gestured to one of the guards outside. The summoned invader grasped the translation device and carried it away; it looked as if everything that was going to be said had been said, and now all that was left was action. To the other guard, the robed invader said something in their native tongue.
The soldier stepped into the cell, and grasped tightly onto Juno’s arm. It pulled him forcibly off the ground, and the hybrid grunted in pain. Rex stepped back out of the way as he was removed from the cell, and carried down the hallway. As he tried to keep pace with his ‘guide,’ he could hear the chortling of Boomstick behind him. He resisted the urge to turn around and shoot him in the gut with a ki blast.
The hallway, like the silence just minutes before, seemed to extend forever, before finally, Juno found himself bathed in the sunlight of Namek’s twin suns. He squinted his eyes; the sudden admission of light into them almost blinded the hybrid. Slowly, the area around him began to come back into focus.
He was in the encampment — the one he’d seen from the cliff just days before, just before they’d captured him. The buildings rose around him, rusted and brown, like something that might’ve been seen on Mercy, or in a steampunk-influenced science fiction film. He looked around, and saw towers, and shabby houses, probably barracks for the aliens; and then, as they turned the corner, he saw them. Hundreds of aliens, either wearing armor, colored yellow and black, or — and these were much fewer in number — wearing yellow robes, much like the invader that had stepped into their cell.
On the horizon was a platform, large, built out of metal. It was a stage, and there was a bar hanging over it, supported by two columns — a ‘proscenium arch,’ as it were. It seemed that their resemblance to humans was closer than Juno expected; they also shared punishment methods that Earth had utilized in its early history. Tightly knotted around the top bar were three ropes, all tied into nooses. Juno supposed that the aliens had prepared for all of them to deny their offer; he doubted, however, that they’d expected rejection from any of them.
Ushered onto the stage, the hybrid grunted in pain once again as they shoved him onto the metallic floor; the invaders cheered, and as Juno scanned the crowd, he saw Boomstick laughing in the back, a nervous, shaking Rex standing at his side. His scowl deepened — this was not how things were supposed to happen; this wasn’t glory, this was death. This was fucking death, and that was not cool at all.
His tail twitched. It had floated there, ever since it’d grown back, and after about the first week of reclaiming it, Juno had actually stopped noticing it was there; but now it seemed to be calling to him, calling his attention. He stared at it for a moment — it wanted something. The hybrid shook his head, attempting to erase that from his mind — when he died, he didn’t want to be thinking about his tail sending him weird, unconscious messages.
He didn’t completely know why he had denied the aliens’ offer. Maybe it was out of some weird sense of righteousness he’d adopted throughout the years, or out of some Saiyan determination to just not give up fighting these bastards — he suspected it was the former, because he imagined that two years ago, before all of the shit that had happened the last two years had come to pass, he would’ve taken the selfish track. He would’ve wrapped himself in a yellow robe, no questions asked, and slaughtered those fighting ‘the good fight.’
Now, though, he was fighting ‘the good fight.’ And for whatever reason, he wasn’t going to let that go.
“This man has chosen not to join us,” the alien guard said, and Juno looked over to see why he could understand — one of the translation devices had been built into the stage. So, they want the victims to hear their insults before they hang them, eh?
There was a rumble of excitement in the crowd, and the guard came over and socked Juno in the face; the hybrid’s cheek slammed into the metal stage, reddening from the impact. “He must be punished for his insolence, and for his pointless dedication to a dying cause! What say you?”
A roaring cheer broke out amongst the aliens, and they yelled what he thought to be profanity in their language at him. He caught a few of their insults, those who were close enough to the stage to be translated. The guard grasped Juno’s arm again, clutching tightly — almost as if he feared the hybrid would try to escape, even in his weakened state — and drug him over to the noose, lifting him up and slipping his head through the rope. The hybrid took a deep breath as the hoop was tightened around his neck, already strangling him for air, and the guard stepped over to the lever. Juno took a glance down at the small square cut in the floor below — the trapdoor would drop and the pull of that lever, and he would be dead.
Juno’s tail twitched again.