Categories > Anime/Manga > Dragon Ball Z > Illumination
...?: The End of It All
Staring at the white above
Can't tell if I'm alive or am I dead
Or is it in my head?
"Up and Gone," Hoobastank
"Ready?" a voice asked aloud in the darkness before dawn.
A clicking noise resembling the loading of a pistol was heard before another voice answered back. "Let's do this."
***
Stairs...hundreds of stairs. Armada had no idea where they were leading her, but the trek up the spiraling staircase to their destination was one she'd prefer not to take. At least, if she'd had a choice in the matter.
She held her silence the entire time, since the guards had first removed her from her cell earlier in the morning. Apparently, she was to be executed at dawn, but something was holding everything up. Whatever the matter was, it had been quickly resolved and the march toward her death continued. It was then that she glanced up, noticing more light in the staircase than previously, and realized that they'd reached their destination.
Armada squinted as the prison guards led her out onto a terrace, at least twenty stories, if not more, from the ground. She hesitated once on the small terrace, and the guards behind her pushed her forward, threatening to use their shock rods if she didn't cooperate. As she moved forward, she heard a rush that sounded like a wave, and soon discovered that it was the shock of the huge crowd gathered below to witness the spectacle that was her execution.
Dax strolled nonchalantly down the streets of Ute, noting how on this particular morning, there seemed to be fewer people out. He stopped upon seeing several children run down a street a few yards away from him that led to the right.
After turning the corner, Dax found himself at the edge of an enormous crowd, standing at the back of the Federation's monstrous office building in downtown Ute. "Excuse me," he said several times over, trying to maneuver his way farther into the crowd to figure out why the people were gathered so.
"An execution?! How barbaric," a middle-aged Bmyhadian male stated appallingly. Dax stopped upon hearing the voice next to him speak.
"Yes, but the Alliance has no problem ordering them left and right," an equally middle-aged female responded.
"'Execution...?'" Dax repeated to himself slowly. Suddenly, the crowd hushed, as several Alliance officers appeared on a small balcony from the building high above the crowd.
"Witness the punishment of a traitor," a voice boomed, obviously using some sort of sound system in the area, "and know the price of treason."
More guards came from behind the officer, bringing forth the 'traitor' he spoke of. "Oh, no..." Dax's voice left him as he witnessed the prisoner brought forth and realized her identity. "Ar..." He cringed. "It can't be..."
Armada stared at the floor of the veranda on which she stood until her attention was suddenly drawn up by a sharp clicking sound. She narrowed her eyes at the man who'd announced her as he finished loading a small pistol. The idea of a public execution made her feel sick. She didn't want her weakness witnessed by anyone who happened to pass by. She was brought out of her reverie when the guards behind her nudged once more with their shock rods, indicating that she needed to move closer to the edge of the balcony. She complied, passing every officer on the platform, and when they were finally satisfied, she stood only ten feet from falling to her doom.
She stopped observing her surroundings upon feeling cold metal upon the back of her head. So this is it, huh? Not even a 'Say your prayers?' She felt the barrel of the pistol pressed harder into the back of her skull. She closed her eyes and cringed, her body tensing while preparing for what was to come. Her mind went blank; all of her thoughts faded into nothingness as a black expanse set out before. Before she could muster any philosophical metaphor for it all, she heard it.
A gunshot. It was loud, no-intense. And then...silence.
Am I...dead?
A scream...then...many screams. Shouting like she'd never heard before, and then... something falling... behind her... into a lump...
Armada swallowed with difficulty before slowly opening her eyes. However, the sight that greeted her was not what she'd anticipated. Her eyes opened wide in shock, and as time seemed to move in nanosecond increments, she found herself staring down the barrel of a pistol over fifteen feet away...with a pair of intense red eyes just above it.
Armada turned, looking for the guard that was supposed to perform the execution, and found him lying on the ground as blood pooled around his head. The other guards had started running for her, and she spun around once more to see that indeed, Laiserta was on that Federation helicopter right in front of the terrace, holding a pistol-no, one of her pistols-in her hands, and that Trunks was sitting next to her, arms outstretched as he shouted 'Come on!'
Hoping that she wasn't dreaming, Armada sprinted towards the end of the terrace and jumped, her shackled hands reaching out for her comrades. Her hands were caught, by those of Trunks, smiling as he did so.
Time came crashing back to normal as shots rained upon the helicopter as it tried to pull away. Laiserta fired back, sniping several of the guards who'd fired, and Trunks dragged Armada into the helicopter entirely to avoid either of the two being shot.
"I'm out," Laiserta shouted over both the rain of gunfire they received and the sound of the helicopter's motor.
Armada sat on her knees, unable to comprehend what was happening. They...how...what?
"Are you all right?" Trunks queried while sitting before her, looking her over for any kind of wound. Armada, in return, brought her gaze up to his, but couldn't find words.
"I suppose I should the meet the person whose life I just spared," a foreign voice spoke. Armada looked up, and found a man who appeared to be about her age standing over her, donned in a strange yet familiar blue uniform. "The name's Deus Rema."
Armada gasped as a new realization hit. "You're...!"
"I know," Rema interrupted her. "I'll explain everything when we make it to safety." He then knelt next to her. "In the meantime, why don't we remove those gauntlets of yours?"
She glanced down to the restraints on her wrist, at which point Rema took them in his left hand-which was, interestingly enough, robotic-while inserting an all-too-familiar key into the left gauntlet, causing it to open and release her forearm. He deftly repeated the process and stood, heading back into the front of the helicopter from where he'd originally emerged.
Armada rubbed her wrists gingerly while Trunks spoke. "Look, Armada, I know what you were trying to do, and I, well, we didn't-"
"Trunks," she interrupted him, "...thank you."
Not anticipating the reaction he received, Trunks reeled in shock until Laiserta spoke and stole both of their attention. "We're almost there," she said, standing and heading for the same door behind which Rema had appeared and disappeared.
Armada turned and looked out the still wide-open side door to the helicopter and noticed that they were indeed preparing to land on the top of the tallest building in the entire city. Her suspicions were confirmed-Deus Rema wasn't just any Bmyhadian, he was the Bmyhadian-the nation's Prime Minister.
***
"Sorry to keep you all waiting," Rema appeared through the large doors at the end of the room in which all five members of VDD currently stood. The room was a conference room, with tables and sofas abound and a balcony which led out to a view of the entire city.
"Of course," Rema started as he noticed Armada's gaze turn towards him, "you want to know why."
"I know you don't believe in executions," Armada spoke softly, "but I also know that you didn't save my life for ideals."
"True, but only partially," Rema responded, moving closer to the person with whom he conversed. "I know of the things you've done. While the legality of some may be questionable, the Alliance should be singing your praises for ridding it of some of the scum that you've done away with."
"You mean, spider-head was doing them favors?" Laiserta questioned with a confused visage.
"Aside from the fact that she destroyed a disruptor factory; yes," he replied flatly. He turned towards Armada once more. "I'll be blunt; I hate the Federation. I want nothing to do with them and I wish that they'd leave Bmyhad alone. However," he continued, "I realize that won't be happening anytime soon with Taydr's corruption into the Alliance."
"So you know about that?" Trunks queried.
Rema nodded. "It's my job to know. Anyhow," he continued, "back to the matter at hand. While I appreciate the trouble you've been causing both Taydr and the Alliance as of late, I spared your life because I refuse to let the Federation do as it pleases in my country." Rema laughed. "I suppose it's my way of resisting."
"If you don't mind me asking," Armada glanced between her comrades and Rema, "how exactly did you all pull this off?"
"Rema contacted us," Trunks answered. "He told us when the execution was scheduled, and asked us if we cared to help him rescue you."
"How could we refuse, spider-head?" Laiserta smirked. "Without you, who'd fix the ship after we all trash it?"
The door leading into the conference room opened, and a messenger stepped through only a few meters. "Sir," he addressed Deus Rema, "the Representatives from the Republic are here."
"Very well," he waved the messenger away. "It appears that I must go for now," Rema said, turning to address the mercenaries in his midst. "I shall return shortly." He then headed for the door and left, with two of his attendants following close behind. The guards too, also abandoned their posts at the doors of the room and headed outside, presumably guarding the outside entrances into the room, rather than the inside, considering that their prime minister had left the room.
"Armada," Naya addressed her captain after some time had passed since Rema's depart, "you...didn't have to do what you did. I can handle myself fairly well."
"I know you can, Naya," Armada began to respond, "it's only that...you didn't deserve to sit there when they wanted me. None of you guys would."
Laiserta raised her eyes above the rims of her glasses, looking towards the blonde woman. "That's ridiculous, A. You knew what they'd do once they got their hands on you. What you did was reckless and stupid," she finished in the most serious tone any of them had heard from her in some time.
"You don't need to lie to us when you're planning something, either," Trunks added. "How do you expect us to trust you when you can't trust us?"
"I...couldn't think of anything else at the time," Armada reeled for an answer.
"I don't know what you think of your own life," Marice cut in, "but we care about you, regardless of what you might think."
"We're a team, spider-head," Laiserta added with a small smile. "We gotta work together when one of us is in trouble. It's kinda like what some of those Republicans say," she laughed slightly, "'the whole is more than the sum of its parts.'"
"I'm...I'm sorry," Armada's gaze fell as she spoke in subdued tones. "But if anything ever happens to me...don't worry. Just...take the /Verdandi/...and go."
"I'm not keen on advance directives, captain," Naya commented directly. "It's not customary to have them in Tyron."
An awkward silence descended upon the group once more, all unsure of what to say next. There was a barrier that stood between the official leader of the party and the other four members, and now that it had been breached, even partially, things would never return to the way they were. And while Armada may have been the one giving the orders, it became increasingly clear from that point forward on who the real leader of VDD was.
"We must make this quick," Rema's voice was heard behind the same double-doors he'd exited earlier as they opened and revealed his figure heading into the conference room once more. "I have seven diplomats doing the one thing they hate most-waiting," he smirked.
"Let's skip the formalities, shall we Rema?" Naya spoke up. "You're not keeping us here because you enjoy our company."
"Indeed, you are perceptive, General," Deus added, subtly flexing his informational muscles by hinting at Naya's former occupation. He stopped in the center of the room, glancing from one face to the next. "I have some news for you, and you're not going to like it." He paused before continuing. "I must ask that you all leave Bmyhad immediately, and permanently."
"What?" Marice and Laiserta yelled in unison.
"I'm ordering all foreigners out of the country," Rema explained, "and that includes you."
"Why?" Trunks asked, curious as to why the Prime Minister would pull such a maneuver.
"With all foreigners gone," Naya interrupted the conversation, "it will be much easier for the government of Bmyhad to keep track of things."
"Your friend is correct," Rema added, turning his gaze towards Trunks. "You must leave. I'm sorry."
"Well," Laiserta stood upright from where she leaned against a wall, "it's time to get rollin' kids. It appears that we're not wanted here."
Naya, Laiserta, and Marice headed for the door. "Some of my men will escort you to your ship," Rema added.
"So you can make sure we leave, right?" Trunks replied derisively. With that, he headed for the door. Moments later, the last mercenary followed suit.
"Consider this a second chance," Rema said to himself after the group had left. "This time, try not to get yourself killed."
Outside the doors of Rema's conference room, five mercenaries occupied the hallway. "Anyone have any idea where we should go next?" Armada asked of her comrades.
"I would say head to Taydr," Laiserta spoke up, "but I know there's no way you'd do that."
"Euphoria and Stapel are out of the question," Marice added.
"As is Tyron," Naya commented.
"Looks like there's nowhere we can go," Trunks surmised.
"Nowhere in the Shera system," Armada replied. "Let's head for the ship and get out of here. We can travel between space stations until we come up with something." With nods in agreement, the mercenaries left the Prime Minister's office, and eventually Bmyhad, for good.
Staring at the white above
Can't tell if I'm alive or am I dead
Or is it in my head?
"Up and Gone," Hoobastank
"Ready?" a voice asked aloud in the darkness before dawn.
A clicking noise resembling the loading of a pistol was heard before another voice answered back. "Let's do this."
***
Stairs...hundreds of stairs. Armada had no idea where they were leading her, but the trek up the spiraling staircase to their destination was one she'd prefer not to take. At least, if she'd had a choice in the matter.
She held her silence the entire time, since the guards had first removed her from her cell earlier in the morning. Apparently, she was to be executed at dawn, but something was holding everything up. Whatever the matter was, it had been quickly resolved and the march toward her death continued. It was then that she glanced up, noticing more light in the staircase than previously, and realized that they'd reached their destination.
Armada squinted as the prison guards led her out onto a terrace, at least twenty stories, if not more, from the ground. She hesitated once on the small terrace, and the guards behind her pushed her forward, threatening to use their shock rods if she didn't cooperate. As she moved forward, she heard a rush that sounded like a wave, and soon discovered that it was the shock of the huge crowd gathered below to witness the spectacle that was her execution.
Dax strolled nonchalantly down the streets of Ute, noting how on this particular morning, there seemed to be fewer people out. He stopped upon seeing several children run down a street a few yards away from him that led to the right.
After turning the corner, Dax found himself at the edge of an enormous crowd, standing at the back of the Federation's monstrous office building in downtown Ute. "Excuse me," he said several times over, trying to maneuver his way farther into the crowd to figure out why the people were gathered so.
"An execution?! How barbaric," a middle-aged Bmyhadian male stated appallingly. Dax stopped upon hearing the voice next to him speak.
"Yes, but the Alliance has no problem ordering them left and right," an equally middle-aged female responded.
"'Execution...?'" Dax repeated to himself slowly. Suddenly, the crowd hushed, as several Alliance officers appeared on a small balcony from the building high above the crowd.
"Witness the punishment of a traitor," a voice boomed, obviously using some sort of sound system in the area, "and know the price of treason."
More guards came from behind the officer, bringing forth the 'traitor' he spoke of. "Oh, no..." Dax's voice left him as he witnessed the prisoner brought forth and realized her identity. "Ar..." He cringed. "It can't be..."
Armada stared at the floor of the veranda on which she stood until her attention was suddenly drawn up by a sharp clicking sound. She narrowed her eyes at the man who'd announced her as he finished loading a small pistol. The idea of a public execution made her feel sick. She didn't want her weakness witnessed by anyone who happened to pass by. She was brought out of her reverie when the guards behind her nudged once more with their shock rods, indicating that she needed to move closer to the edge of the balcony. She complied, passing every officer on the platform, and when they were finally satisfied, she stood only ten feet from falling to her doom.
She stopped observing her surroundings upon feeling cold metal upon the back of her head. So this is it, huh? Not even a 'Say your prayers?' She felt the barrel of the pistol pressed harder into the back of her skull. She closed her eyes and cringed, her body tensing while preparing for what was to come. Her mind went blank; all of her thoughts faded into nothingness as a black expanse set out before. Before she could muster any philosophical metaphor for it all, she heard it.
A gunshot. It was loud, no-intense. And then...silence.
Am I...dead?
A scream...then...many screams. Shouting like she'd never heard before, and then... something falling... behind her... into a lump...
Armada swallowed with difficulty before slowly opening her eyes. However, the sight that greeted her was not what she'd anticipated. Her eyes opened wide in shock, and as time seemed to move in nanosecond increments, she found herself staring down the barrel of a pistol over fifteen feet away...with a pair of intense red eyes just above it.
Armada turned, looking for the guard that was supposed to perform the execution, and found him lying on the ground as blood pooled around his head. The other guards had started running for her, and she spun around once more to see that indeed, Laiserta was on that Federation helicopter right in front of the terrace, holding a pistol-no, one of her pistols-in her hands, and that Trunks was sitting next to her, arms outstretched as he shouted 'Come on!'
Hoping that she wasn't dreaming, Armada sprinted towards the end of the terrace and jumped, her shackled hands reaching out for her comrades. Her hands were caught, by those of Trunks, smiling as he did so.
Time came crashing back to normal as shots rained upon the helicopter as it tried to pull away. Laiserta fired back, sniping several of the guards who'd fired, and Trunks dragged Armada into the helicopter entirely to avoid either of the two being shot.
"I'm out," Laiserta shouted over both the rain of gunfire they received and the sound of the helicopter's motor.
Armada sat on her knees, unable to comprehend what was happening. They...how...what?
"Are you all right?" Trunks queried while sitting before her, looking her over for any kind of wound. Armada, in return, brought her gaze up to his, but couldn't find words.
"I suppose I should the meet the person whose life I just spared," a foreign voice spoke. Armada looked up, and found a man who appeared to be about her age standing over her, donned in a strange yet familiar blue uniform. "The name's Deus Rema."
Armada gasped as a new realization hit. "You're...!"
"I know," Rema interrupted her. "I'll explain everything when we make it to safety." He then knelt next to her. "In the meantime, why don't we remove those gauntlets of yours?"
She glanced down to the restraints on her wrist, at which point Rema took them in his left hand-which was, interestingly enough, robotic-while inserting an all-too-familiar key into the left gauntlet, causing it to open and release her forearm. He deftly repeated the process and stood, heading back into the front of the helicopter from where he'd originally emerged.
Armada rubbed her wrists gingerly while Trunks spoke. "Look, Armada, I know what you were trying to do, and I, well, we didn't-"
"Trunks," she interrupted him, "...thank you."
Not anticipating the reaction he received, Trunks reeled in shock until Laiserta spoke and stole both of their attention. "We're almost there," she said, standing and heading for the same door behind which Rema had appeared and disappeared.
Armada turned and looked out the still wide-open side door to the helicopter and noticed that they were indeed preparing to land on the top of the tallest building in the entire city. Her suspicions were confirmed-Deus Rema wasn't just any Bmyhadian, he was the Bmyhadian-the nation's Prime Minister.
***
"Sorry to keep you all waiting," Rema appeared through the large doors at the end of the room in which all five members of VDD currently stood. The room was a conference room, with tables and sofas abound and a balcony which led out to a view of the entire city.
"Of course," Rema started as he noticed Armada's gaze turn towards him, "you want to know why."
"I know you don't believe in executions," Armada spoke softly, "but I also know that you didn't save my life for ideals."
"True, but only partially," Rema responded, moving closer to the person with whom he conversed. "I know of the things you've done. While the legality of some may be questionable, the Alliance should be singing your praises for ridding it of some of the scum that you've done away with."
"You mean, spider-head was doing them favors?" Laiserta questioned with a confused visage.
"Aside from the fact that she destroyed a disruptor factory; yes," he replied flatly. He turned towards Armada once more. "I'll be blunt; I hate the Federation. I want nothing to do with them and I wish that they'd leave Bmyhad alone. However," he continued, "I realize that won't be happening anytime soon with Taydr's corruption into the Alliance."
"So you know about that?" Trunks queried.
Rema nodded. "It's my job to know. Anyhow," he continued, "back to the matter at hand. While I appreciate the trouble you've been causing both Taydr and the Alliance as of late, I spared your life because I refuse to let the Federation do as it pleases in my country." Rema laughed. "I suppose it's my way of resisting."
"If you don't mind me asking," Armada glanced between her comrades and Rema, "how exactly did you all pull this off?"
"Rema contacted us," Trunks answered. "He told us when the execution was scheduled, and asked us if we cared to help him rescue you."
"How could we refuse, spider-head?" Laiserta smirked. "Without you, who'd fix the ship after we all trash it?"
The door leading into the conference room opened, and a messenger stepped through only a few meters. "Sir," he addressed Deus Rema, "the Representatives from the Republic are here."
"Very well," he waved the messenger away. "It appears that I must go for now," Rema said, turning to address the mercenaries in his midst. "I shall return shortly." He then headed for the door and left, with two of his attendants following close behind. The guards too, also abandoned their posts at the doors of the room and headed outside, presumably guarding the outside entrances into the room, rather than the inside, considering that their prime minister had left the room.
"Armada," Naya addressed her captain after some time had passed since Rema's depart, "you...didn't have to do what you did. I can handle myself fairly well."
"I know you can, Naya," Armada began to respond, "it's only that...you didn't deserve to sit there when they wanted me. None of you guys would."
Laiserta raised her eyes above the rims of her glasses, looking towards the blonde woman. "That's ridiculous, A. You knew what they'd do once they got their hands on you. What you did was reckless and stupid," she finished in the most serious tone any of them had heard from her in some time.
"You don't need to lie to us when you're planning something, either," Trunks added. "How do you expect us to trust you when you can't trust us?"
"I...couldn't think of anything else at the time," Armada reeled for an answer.
"I don't know what you think of your own life," Marice cut in, "but we care about you, regardless of what you might think."
"We're a team, spider-head," Laiserta added with a small smile. "We gotta work together when one of us is in trouble. It's kinda like what some of those Republicans say," she laughed slightly, "'the whole is more than the sum of its parts.'"
"I'm...I'm sorry," Armada's gaze fell as she spoke in subdued tones. "But if anything ever happens to me...don't worry. Just...take the /Verdandi/...and go."
"I'm not keen on advance directives, captain," Naya commented directly. "It's not customary to have them in Tyron."
An awkward silence descended upon the group once more, all unsure of what to say next. There was a barrier that stood between the official leader of the party and the other four members, and now that it had been breached, even partially, things would never return to the way they were. And while Armada may have been the one giving the orders, it became increasingly clear from that point forward on who the real leader of VDD was.
"We must make this quick," Rema's voice was heard behind the same double-doors he'd exited earlier as they opened and revealed his figure heading into the conference room once more. "I have seven diplomats doing the one thing they hate most-waiting," he smirked.
"Let's skip the formalities, shall we Rema?" Naya spoke up. "You're not keeping us here because you enjoy our company."
"Indeed, you are perceptive, General," Deus added, subtly flexing his informational muscles by hinting at Naya's former occupation. He stopped in the center of the room, glancing from one face to the next. "I have some news for you, and you're not going to like it." He paused before continuing. "I must ask that you all leave Bmyhad immediately, and permanently."
"What?" Marice and Laiserta yelled in unison.
"I'm ordering all foreigners out of the country," Rema explained, "and that includes you."
"Why?" Trunks asked, curious as to why the Prime Minister would pull such a maneuver.
"With all foreigners gone," Naya interrupted the conversation, "it will be much easier for the government of Bmyhad to keep track of things."
"Your friend is correct," Rema added, turning his gaze towards Trunks. "You must leave. I'm sorry."
"Well," Laiserta stood upright from where she leaned against a wall, "it's time to get rollin' kids. It appears that we're not wanted here."
Naya, Laiserta, and Marice headed for the door. "Some of my men will escort you to your ship," Rema added.
"So you can make sure we leave, right?" Trunks replied derisively. With that, he headed for the door. Moments later, the last mercenary followed suit.
"Consider this a second chance," Rema said to himself after the group had left. "This time, try not to get yourself killed."
Outside the doors of Rema's conference room, five mercenaries occupied the hallway. "Anyone have any idea where we should go next?" Armada asked of her comrades.
"I would say head to Taydr," Laiserta spoke up, "but I know there's no way you'd do that."
"Euphoria and Stapel are out of the question," Marice added.
"As is Tyron," Naya commented.
"Looks like there's nowhere we can go," Trunks surmised.
"Nowhere in the Shera system," Armada replied. "Let's head for the ship and get out of here. We can travel between space stations until we come up with something." With nods in agreement, the mercenaries left the Prime Minister's office, and eventually Bmyhad, for good.
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