Post by Basko on Feb 11, 2018 7:30:21 GMT -6
The skies must have looked spectacular to the people of Earth during the arrival of the saiyan. The night sky would have been blazing with falling artificial stars, some having erratic movements and some heading straight towards sacred Earth soil. Right behind these falling stars were the impending arrival of a huge fleet of slavers and pirates, but for now there was a peaceful calm as the alien capsules appeared like a natural phenomenon in the night sky.
Galactic war had come. From the ashes of the Arcosian Empire, the World Trade Fleet sprung to expand its borders through force and slavery. Its ships, filled with bloodthirsty pirates from across the Northern Quadrant jumped at the opportunity of riches and plunder and the ranks of the always scheming arcosian overlords swelled. Planets fell one by one, eventually reaching the core worlds of the Saiyan Kingdom who were utterly unprepared for such aggression, having grown accustomed to peacetime. Several saiyans escaped the WTFs iron grip around their former kingdom and escaped. And so the stage was set for the final stand on Planet Earth, whose population had also become complacent and enjoyed peace for hundreds of years. The saiyan capsules, like their ancestors of old, once again have arrived on the unconquered planet with the Trade Fleet hot on their heels. It was only a matter of time until the pirates would also get their hands on the blue planet, if nothing was done.
"Earth. Tch."
Inside one of the smouldering craters was a low-ranking warrior who volunteered to follow his king and the saiyan kingdom elites to look for refuge, asylum and for a miracle on the planet Earth. Earth has always been the final battleground and the staging ground for hope among the free people of the universe, as history had taught. On the display screen monitor of the warrior's capsule the computer logged and flashed his name and the coordinates where he landed on the alien planet.
"You have successfully landed on [Planet Earth]. Proceed with your mission, [Basko]." the screen prompted as the capsule's hatch opened in front of the saiyan. Basko was lucky compared to his companions who were either shot out of the sky and obliterated without a fight, or crash-landed with faulty and damaged engines. Aside from a heavy hit to the head on his dashboard as his capsule impacted Earth, he was as he remembered himself. He sprung out with a lively jump, getting his legs and arms stretched with simple acrobatics from the long journey. He landed in a particularly mountainous area, possibly in the Northern part of the planet as the briefings taught them. With only some light provisions and bandages he gathered from his capsule, he set off, but not before shooting an energy beam at his capsule and destroying it to dispose of its usefulness.
The first order of business would be to make contact with his fellow remnants. His second priority was to make contact with earthlings or to subsist on the land and gather necessary resources such as hunting or foraging for food and gathering water. To earthlings it might have sounded like one of those scripted television shows about being stranded on an island and trying to make a fire and survive like three-year old boy scouts. However, the grit and survival instincts of a saiyan would allow even a small babe to survive all alone, live off the land and conquer planets on their own. Time would tell however whether Basko's generation of saiyans have forgotten their beastly instincts. At the very least should he find none of his brethren, Basko intended to head out, find a decent place to establish headquarters and gather supplies, and wait it out. He had no intention of gathering the mystical dragon balls alone. A myth which he half-heartedly believed in but insisted on by his prince as their only hope.
As it stood, it was the first time in a couple of hundred years that protocols regarding planet-landing have been used once again. The once expansionist Saiyan Empire had already stopped the practice of invading planets and sending capsules out into space with intent to conquer. So it was that Basko and his fellows didn't really have experience with the operation. A few hours before, landing data, maps and protocols were all discussed with them and none of them really stuck. All he thought about then was his mother who remained on Planet Vegeta, and the rest of his people who were forced to stay under the umbrella of a blockade from the Arcosian fleet. Hostages they were, and refugees he and his fellow warriors are, he thought.
Under the night sky the stoic warrior trudged the rough snowy terrain, not wanting to be detected by WTF scouts who may already be looking for the saiyans. He would encounter wild fruits and berries on his path, all of which he picked up and put in his mouth for nourishment and tasting. There were no earthlings in sight as he followed the worn-out paths the villagers probably used on their day to day walk, which was lucky since the sight of a battle-ready warrior might have elicited either fear or hostility from the locals. As the night grew on however, his head started registering intense pain from the blow to the head earlier. As these episodic bouts happened, Basko would chant his name, origin and purpose in case he fell into unconsciousness and he is found by the earthlings.
"Basko. Ranking Warrior of the Saiyan Defe-" Basko stopped as he reminded himself of who he was. There was no more Saiyan Defense Force, he thought. No more organization that defended the Saiyan core planets. Just a couple of days ago Basko was facing imminent annihilation by the World Trade Fleet as the pirate ships hovered over Planet Vegeta. The first ones to fall were his comrades from the Saiyan Defense Force, his motley crew of low-class warriors, mercenaries and even former convicts of the Saiyan Kingdom forcefully conscripted into service and molded into a well-bred, coordinated band of brothers and soldiers as if hammered into a well-oiled machine. The warriors were a far cry from their savage counterparts, but what they lacked in ferocity they made up in discipline and camaraderie, mostly in Basko's unit at least.
"Basko. Saiyan Soldier. Saiyan Warrior. Shield of my people. I would embrace the savagery of my race and my ancestors before me, just for this mission, to survive. So gods help me." He repeated with finality as he clenched his fists, knowing full well the state of the kingdom he served. They were horribly doomed on a distant planet separated from each other and with little to go on and no allies to count on. All he could think of in his head is his identity and his family left on Vegeta, and every step reminded him whether they were alright or some haughty arcosian was already blasting his village into kingdom come. He continued on as his head cleared and walked briskly as the cold temperature started chilling his half-naked body with only saiyan battle-armor on.
There was a small village with buildings made of domed adobe up ahead. Only a few candles remained lit as dawn was only a few hours away. It reminded Basko of home. Last time he and his mother talked was that of taking a goodly saiyan woman to provide for him.
Galactic war had come. From the ashes of the Arcosian Empire, the World Trade Fleet sprung to expand its borders through force and slavery. Its ships, filled with bloodthirsty pirates from across the Northern Quadrant jumped at the opportunity of riches and plunder and the ranks of the always scheming arcosian overlords swelled. Planets fell one by one, eventually reaching the core worlds of the Saiyan Kingdom who were utterly unprepared for such aggression, having grown accustomed to peacetime. Several saiyans escaped the WTFs iron grip around their former kingdom and escaped. And so the stage was set for the final stand on Planet Earth, whose population had also become complacent and enjoyed peace for hundreds of years. The saiyan capsules, like their ancestors of old, once again have arrived on the unconquered planet with the Trade Fleet hot on their heels. It was only a matter of time until the pirates would also get their hands on the blue planet, if nothing was done.
"Earth. Tch."
Inside one of the smouldering craters was a low-ranking warrior who volunteered to follow his king and the saiyan kingdom elites to look for refuge, asylum and for a miracle on the planet Earth. Earth has always been the final battleground and the staging ground for hope among the free people of the universe, as history had taught. On the display screen monitor of the warrior's capsule the computer logged and flashed his name and the coordinates where he landed on the alien planet.
"You have successfully landed on [Planet Earth]. Proceed with your mission, [Basko]." the screen prompted as the capsule's hatch opened in front of the saiyan. Basko was lucky compared to his companions who were either shot out of the sky and obliterated without a fight, or crash-landed with faulty and damaged engines. Aside from a heavy hit to the head on his dashboard as his capsule impacted Earth, he was as he remembered himself. He sprung out with a lively jump, getting his legs and arms stretched with simple acrobatics from the long journey. He landed in a particularly mountainous area, possibly in the Northern part of the planet as the briefings taught them. With only some light provisions and bandages he gathered from his capsule, he set off, but not before shooting an energy beam at his capsule and destroying it to dispose of its usefulness.
The first order of business would be to make contact with his fellow remnants. His second priority was to make contact with earthlings or to subsist on the land and gather necessary resources such as hunting or foraging for food and gathering water. To earthlings it might have sounded like one of those scripted television shows about being stranded on an island and trying to make a fire and survive like three-year old boy scouts. However, the grit and survival instincts of a saiyan would allow even a small babe to survive all alone, live off the land and conquer planets on their own. Time would tell however whether Basko's generation of saiyans have forgotten their beastly instincts. At the very least should he find none of his brethren, Basko intended to head out, find a decent place to establish headquarters and gather supplies, and wait it out. He had no intention of gathering the mystical dragon balls alone. A myth which he half-heartedly believed in but insisted on by his prince as their only hope.
As it stood, it was the first time in a couple of hundred years that protocols regarding planet-landing have been used once again. The once expansionist Saiyan Empire had already stopped the practice of invading planets and sending capsules out into space with intent to conquer. So it was that Basko and his fellows didn't really have experience with the operation. A few hours before, landing data, maps and protocols were all discussed with them and none of them really stuck. All he thought about then was his mother who remained on Planet Vegeta, and the rest of his people who were forced to stay under the umbrella of a blockade from the Arcosian fleet. Hostages they were, and refugees he and his fellow warriors are, he thought.
Under the night sky the stoic warrior trudged the rough snowy terrain, not wanting to be detected by WTF scouts who may already be looking for the saiyans. He would encounter wild fruits and berries on his path, all of which he picked up and put in his mouth for nourishment and tasting. There were no earthlings in sight as he followed the worn-out paths the villagers probably used on their day to day walk, which was lucky since the sight of a battle-ready warrior might have elicited either fear or hostility from the locals. As the night grew on however, his head started registering intense pain from the blow to the head earlier. As these episodic bouts happened, Basko would chant his name, origin and purpose in case he fell into unconsciousness and he is found by the earthlings.
"Basko. Ranking Warrior of the Saiyan Defe-" Basko stopped as he reminded himself of who he was. There was no more Saiyan Defense Force, he thought. No more organization that defended the Saiyan core planets. Just a couple of days ago Basko was facing imminent annihilation by the World Trade Fleet as the pirate ships hovered over Planet Vegeta. The first ones to fall were his comrades from the Saiyan Defense Force, his motley crew of low-class warriors, mercenaries and even former convicts of the Saiyan Kingdom forcefully conscripted into service and molded into a well-bred, coordinated band of brothers and soldiers as if hammered into a well-oiled machine. The warriors were a far cry from their savage counterparts, but what they lacked in ferocity they made up in discipline and camaraderie, mostly in Basko's unit at least.
"Basko. Saiyan Soldier. Saiyan Warrior. Shield of my people. I would embrace the savagery of my race and my ancestors before me, just for this mission, to survive. So gods help me." He repeated with finality as he clenched his fists, knowing full well the state of the kingdom he served. They were horribly doomed on a distant planet separated from each other and with little to go on and no allies to count on. All he could think of in his head is his identity and his family left on Vegeta, and every step reminded him whether they were alright or some haughty arcosian was already blasting his village into kingdom come. He continued on as his head cleared and walked briskly as the cold temperature started chilling his half-naked body with only saiyan battle-armor on.
There was a small village with buildings made of domed adobe up ahead. Only a few candles remained lit as dawn was only a few hours away. It reminded Basko of home. Last time he and his mother talked was that of taking a goodly saiyan woman to provide for him.
