His space pod was quickly descending upon the planet's surface. Siberian's view as he peered out from his spacepod's window painted Arcose's landscape in red. Fitting when he took into consideration the reason for his being here. Yes, unfortunately, Siberian's return to his homeworld was not a cause for celebration.
Death, unless it was your enemies, rarely was.
The news of Executive Director Chill's death hadn't reached Siberian until recently. The message he'd received hadn't explained how Chill died merely that he had. It also gave instructions to halt any non-vital operations and return to Acrose. Having made next to no progress on his infiltration of Namek. Siberian saw no reason not to heed the order and return.
A loud beeping accompanied by flashing lights filled the cabin of the spacepod. The pod's holographic display opened automatically with a notification. Forcing Siberian from his silent contemplation as he moved to halt the beeping. A warning that he'd need to adjust his entry speed. He'd be landing within the capital shortly and a crash landing was not recommended. Siberian did as instructed and leaned forward to catch a view of the city as he approached.
"You look exactly the same." Once he'd docked at the spaceport Siberian made his way to the nearest bar. The trip from Namek to Acrose had been long and he was stressed. A bit of relaxation was needed before he reported in at headquarters. Siberian hadn't been the only Fleet member with this idea either. Which immediately became apparent to him as the bar door slid open. He didn't pay any attention to the other's gathered inside of the bar, however. He merely moved to take a seat at one of table's closest to the entrance.
Siberian slumped down into his chair and closed his eyes. He focused in on all the noise that surrounded him letting the choir of voices wash over him. Being adrift in the sea of sounds was quite relaxing. The noise was also very much welcome. He'd been basically by himself for so long now. That it was nice to hear something other than his own voice or thoughts.
Aizu swaggered into the bar, chomping at a fat cigar and gripping a fistful of zeni. He leaned heavily on the bartop, the new leathery linings of his armor creaking as his musclebound arms flexed. He'd not long finished the latest instalment of his workout regime, a high-intensity programme of exercises and training scenarios. It was designed to push him to failure. Today, he had not failed. He grinned fiercely as he waited for service, turning to survey the crowded establishment and take a deep puff on the cigar. His search for exceptional fighters continued, and it had brought him here. A notable soldier had returned home, one with a familiar history.
That soldier was now sat alone at a table near the door, leaning back in his seat, eyes closed. He was instantly recognisable, Aizu had the file streaming to his scouter. He'd studied it on the way there, making a point to vet any potential candidates before they could know of his plan. This one might be persuaded, but Aizu had to feel things out a little first. With that in mind, he gave his order to the bartender: "Two double Konatsian Firewaters, on ice," he said, handing over more than a few zeni for the beverages. While the drinks were prepared, he looked over again to Siberian. Not quite a member of the higher classes, hailing from an exiled clan, much like Aizu. Though it seemed they sought re-admission into the upper echelons of society. He'd snorted when he first read that. Not being part of the great houses was freedom. In his view, Arcosians didn't need all those customs and ceremonies and trappings of arrogance.
Accepting his drinks, he coolly told the bartender: "Keep the change," before heading to Siberian's table. "Hope you don't mind, but there aren't many free tables," he said, passing a drink to him. "Noticed you didn't have a drink. Konatsian Firewater's good for sipping," he went on, re-lighting his cigar.
"I'm Aizu, Warmaster of the Fleet." He introduced himself, grinning through the smoke. "And I just had to welcome the wayward son home. It's not every day a member of an exiled clan gets landing clearance here. What kind of deal did you make to swing that, I wonder?" He leaned back in his chair and took a sip of the amber-coloured beverage, sighing appreciatively at its flavour.
"In case you were wondering, I've got unrestricted access to Fleet personnel records. I'm looking for our most elite fighters." He blew a smoke ring, silent for a moment. "You have come to my attention. Siberian, of the outcast Articia family. Been off the radar for a while. So tell me, what brings you back to our glorious homeworld?"
Jun 9, 2021 20:55:38 GMT -6
Yorick Sasaki: this site has a successor what in the hail
Mar 22, 2021 14:13:54 GMT -6
Amara: when i was a lad i ate four dozen eggs
Mar 13, 2021 22:12:28 GMT -6
Nashua: Hey, everyone, Dragon Ball Sparking, this site's successor, is now open for applications! Head on over there to join in on the new adventure! dbsparking.freeforums.net/