Difference between revisions of "1798/AWftF: Common Cause"

Latest revision as of 22:30, 23 March 2015

Cell (696) has posed:
     SPACE

     Nothing survives out here. In the blackness between stars, there is nothing but the massive ship of the Neo-Saiyan Empire. The triumphant vehicle is a monument to the power of Kakarot's imperial will, to the might of the Empire, and to the ingenuity and supremacy of the Neo-Saiyan forces. It is unlike anything Saiyans have built before, a vast and mighty tribute to power itself.

     Cell finds it disgusting.

     The Commander of the Red Ribbon Regiment hovers in the space between the stars, arms crossed over his chest, tail flicking back and forth as he stares at the ship. He resembles nothing so much as a great predatory insect, looming over the shell of a beetle as it seeks out broken spots to crack through. For he is patient, and he is cunning, and he will wait as long as it takes to find the crack.

     The Neo-Saiyan Empire is currently Cell's biggest problem. Vegeta and Serori are chained by shackles of their own design, manacled to an agreement Cell himself barely had any intention to keep, because in Cell's mind, honor is a tool people wield against each other, and Cell is one of the best at that dance. But Kakarot is...different. For one, his Saiyans are something beyond what Cell is used to, what Cell has seen. He's organized a group of monkeys into an actually-professional fighting force, the same way Cell organized the Red Ribbon Regiment. He's turned a group of warriors into a group of *soldiers*, forged an empire not just with conquest but with cleverness, and built something that others might not even be able to appreciate, let alone understand.

     Cell appreciates. Cell understands.

     That's why he's here.

     Finally, Cell comes to a decision. There's no helping it.

     The Artificial Humanoid moves through space silently, no energy to detect, no power whatsoever. He floats with careful application of his will to the port of the ship, lining himself up alongside it.

     Then he blows the door down with a blast of energy most /assuredly/ felt throughout the ship, steps inside on his horrible triple-toed feet, clutching the door frame to keep himself from being sucked out into space, and enters.

     "Knock, knock," the Commander observes as he adjusts his suit and tie, "Any monkey home?"

Kakarot (723) has posed:
The ship doesn't really register Cell as anything more than a speck of debris, because he has no power signature. Cell is exceptionally good at this, having had a long, long time to sharpen his guerilla skills.

The sudden flare of power off the side of the ship blows a neat hole inthe side of the ship, sucking out a surprised group of red-armored Saiyans who were just preparing to go out on an air patrol of Reptilon below. Cell probably gets to appreciate their surprise and anger as they fly past in moments of impotent rage. He detects power levels rising throughout the ship, alerts going off and humming barriers sealing off the atmospheric breach. Huh. New stuff.

There is a hiss, the door opening up to reveal a hulking bald Saiyan in blue armor. Gaplan's muscles ripple and harden as he looks upon Cell, his Scouter flickering. He smiles and raises a hand...

And then he pauses, the ki blast that was about to come dying out. His expression becomes a momentary frown, and he shrugs. Gaplan grunts to Cell, gesturing for him to come along.

Cell, provided he follows, is led through the ship as the alerts cut, being taken to a dining room. There, Kakarot sits in his gold-colored armor, setting to in a huge pile of food. He looks up as Cell enters. "Well, you were bound to visit eventually." He stands, and gives Cell a polite bow. "Come on over and help yourself. There's a good meal here. I figure we'll get the talking out of the way first. I hate fighting on my ship, it's not really built to handle people like us."

Cell (696) has posed:
     Saying that Cell /appreciates/ the moments of Saiyan pain, confusion, and anger is the same as saying that the Dragonballs are magic: accurate, but not even close to the fullness of the truth. He watches them for a moment, carefully registering the power levels flaring across the ship in his mind - not just for positions, but for powers themselves. He liked to know potential meals before he ate them. You had to watch what you ate, after all.

     Then the big, bald blue bastard arrives, raising his hand. Cell, to his credit - and because Kakarot is most assuredly watching on the camera - doesn't flinch or move into a combat position. The Artificial Humanoid instead slides his hands into his pockets and waits.

     In poker, you always had to keep your face on, after all. No matter what happened.

     Gaplan's confusion writ large on his face tells Cell exactly what he needs to know. Before the big Saiyan's even gestured and grunted, Cell is walking along behind him, tail swinging back and forth like an ominous serpent. He glances at Gaplan, his eyes full of a mirth his mouth can't express.

     "It would've been a nice try," he assures the Saiyan as they head through the hallway. As they walk, Cell takes careful note of the layout, committing it to superhuman memory. The construction costs of something like this in raw materials must've decimated a planet. And it had no purpose except ferrying Saiyans and demonstrating staggering power.

     The dining room was also not a surprise. Cell knew Goku, knew Saiyan appetites. It could be argued that his lust for consuming lives was based on that Saiyan appetite. Of course it would be central for Saiyan diplomacy.

     The Red Ribbon Commander lowers his head slightly at Kakarot. "How thoughtful of you," he observes in his horrible cicada voice, repeating the name over and over and over in his head. Kakarot. Kakarot. Kakarot. Kakarot. The mental mantra was a shield against the old man's perverse influence, a weapon against Gero's goals, and it let Cell hold onto himself much better than he could've expected. Kakarot. Kakarot. Kakarot.

     "I'm afraid I already ate on the way over. But you can feel free to eat in place." Cell sits down at the table, crosses his legs, and settles his hands into his lap. His tail peeks around his shoulder, stinger pointed ominously at Kakarot.

     "Lovely ship. Vast and powerful. Must've taken a lot to build. What's the name?"

Kakarot (723) has posed:
The power levels seem to all register around normal Saiyan levels. For now. Gaplan seems to be running around the upper end of what Cell might consider 'normal', but there's a good chance that's not his top end. Cell would probably win anyway, but at least he wouldn't be /boring/.

That would be terrible.

Gaplan simply grunts in response to Cell. Either the Saiyan is extremely short on commentary or he actually can't talk. It's hard to tell which.

Kakarot continues consuming food at a prodigious rate, but it's obvious that he's paying close attention to Cell. While a typical Saiyan might just check a power level and have done with it, it's clear Kakarot is watching for more detailed things.

He pauses as Cell brings up the ship. He leans back rubbing his chin as he considers Cell's words. Everything the bugman does is multilayered and complex by necessity. He's declared himself an enemy of the Saiyans, which means he's already functionally in conflict with at least one of the superfactions.

And you don't survive that unless you're smart and tough. "A decent amount. Most of the raw materials came from us taking Frieza's old flagship and breaking it down, burning the stink out of it. We call it the Bardock. Glad you like it." He smiles, but there's little pleasure in it. More... Anticipation. He doesn't believe for a moment that there's going to be any other eventual end, unless... "So let's get this one out of the way. Why do you /really/ hate Saiyans?" He asks. "Vegeta can probably make /anyone/ mad, and I can see how some of the others can grate, but you've got yourself set up for a hell of a workout."

Cell (696) has posed:
     Whether Gaplan is silent or simply mute, Cell can't say. He does take a glance for tell-tale scars, but he can't spare much attention. Like Kakarot, he's much too busy studying the man across the table.

     Kakarot, who wears the face of the man he was programmed to kill. Kakarot, who *is* the man he was programmed to kill. Kakarot, the potential of Goku writ large across an entire universe - possibly more. Cell would have to be a complete idiot to ignore the other man, or even show him more than what he intended. Indeed, the brief spike of power was barely anything at all, and many of the Saiyans on the ship - who may not have been there for Cell's fateful kamehameha - might not imagine that their visitor is capable of threatening any of them. To all appearances, he had the power level of - well, of a bug.

     Kakarot, of course, had already seen that he had more. But Kakarot was just one Saiyan. And even if he ruled the Empire, Cell imagined that that was the sort of thing Kakarot would keep to himself. It was, of course, a gamble - Kakarot might *really* be a new kind of Saiyan - but it wasn't like Cell had too much choice in the matter. It was dice he had to roll.

     "I figured you would. You seem like the sentimental sort." Cell produces a lighter from one of his pockets, flicking it open as if he was going to unroll a cigarette. He flicks the lighter on and off as his leg goes up and down. It might even give the appearance of careless eagerness, but Kakarot is much too smart for that routine. "The sort of man who's happy to water down the Saiyan species until there's nothing left of what you used to be, as the Little Prince would put it. The idea that someone outside the species must be a radical new concept for your empire. Is it?"

     Cell leans back in the chair and fiddles with the lighter some more. The fire, reflected in his eyes, makes them seem strange and alien - though they most definitely are not, it gives them a multifaceted appearance, like great insect eyes. He makes a noise that might be a hum like wings brushing together, rubbing what passes for a chin with his long claws. "Why do I hate the Saiyans, hm?"

     "Why do you?" Cell asks suddenly, the lighter snapping shut with a 'click'. "What is it about your people that made you realize they were destined for obliteration? What made your father wake up and realize that you were an untenable existence doomed to stagnate and crumble?"

Kakarot (723) has posed:
Gaplan is scarred as hell, but it doesn't look like his throat was damaged enough to render him mute. Maybe Cell can punch him and check for a tongue later.

Kakarot leans over on one of the arms of the chair, head resting on his fist as he watches Cell go through his motions. Kakarot seems exceptionally casual about the potential for violence here, beyond that of an ordinary Saiyan. He smiles as Cell makes his taunts. "There's a lot of radical new concepts that are being thrown around for the Empire. Some of them aren't even from the multiverse." He pauses, and then straightens as bit, leaning back and gesturing in is chair nonchalantly. "It started with my father, like everything else. They say that he changed when he came back from Kanassa. He was quiet about it, but he talked about seeing the destruction of our people. There was only one way to prevent it."

He clenches a fist then. "You know that part... But then what? Bardock ruled mostly unchallenged except for the occasional assassination attempt. But what would keep him from just becoming another Frieza? What keeps any of us from just doing the same thing he did? My father taught me to fight. He taught me how to handle my people. But he also taught me that if we just kept doing what we did, we'd still just die. I can't allow that. I might not have the /vision/ my father had, but I am no less dedicated to the survival of our people. And that means we can't just be barbaric conquerers. Being a proud warrior race is all well and good, but you can't build anything lasting out of just killing things. You have to turn that into something /worth making/. Power without a purpose is just hidden weakness."

He smiles to Cell, his grin growing more wide. "But you understand that already. What's your purpose, Cell?"

Cell (696) has posed:
     Cell leans back in the chair, flicking the lighter. Either the answer appeased him, or it caught his interest - though his face is almost unreadable. It's one of the advantages to being a horrifying insect monster. Non-horrifying non-insect-monster people have a lot of trouble reading you if you don't want them to. Moreover, as an Artificial Human with full control over his body, Cell's face was little more than a puppet. He could pull the ligaments of his body at any time and make it metaphorically smile no matter how angry he was.

     "A few years ago, a Saiyan decided that he had the right to conquer a world and use it as his own personal playground. His species landed and did what they always do. They tore things up and joyrode about. Then, a Saiyan came in and saved the world." Cell drums his fingers on the table. "And the Saiyans kept staying. And now Vegeta is back and talking all the same talk he did before, backed by a super-faction too large to meaningfully argue with. On the other side, you have Saiyans who are exactly no different hiding in another super-faction too large to meaningfully argue with, proclaiming that they're different while they howl at the moon and scream for violence and jump up and down at the mere prospect of a fight."

     A cruel smile spreads through Cell's eyes. His tail twitches slightly. "And - get this - it turns out they're all friends with each other. What a surprise. Even though they're at war, the mere idea of someone hurting a Saiyan who isn't a Saiyan brings them and all their little friends into a nice little circle, a blockade, if you will."

     "Now, I want you to ask yourself something. If your planet depended on the goodwill of a bloodthirsty race of conquerors whose primary representatives are Vegeta, Raditz, Taylita, and Serori, what would you do, Kakarot?" Cell drums his fingers against the table again with a clack-clack-clack. "Even the only reasonable one represents an organization that could crush my world with a single motion."

     "And then along comes a Monkey King," Cell adds, "And his great big army. And the worst part is..."

     "He actually *is* different." The horrid bugman's eyes gleam. "He recognizes the hypocrisy of his people. He acknowledges that they're a species of monsters. He's aware that power is the right to do what you want, and doesn't dress it up in words like honor and privilege and right-to-rule. And he's using that power to cultivate something the worlds have never seen before."

     "Tell me, Kakarot. How *should* I react to the Saiyans? And how should I react to the Neo-Saiyans?"

Kakarot (723) has posed:
It's true, Kakarot is appreciating the inherent value one must have in having a horrifying monstrous nonhuman puppet-face in preventing unconscious responses.

Cell's speech is met with a long, quiet expression from the King of the Neo-Saiyans. "By all accounts, both of these factions, this 'Union' and 'Confederacy'... They are too vast for us to battle. I know well your problem because I am facing a part of it myself. Defiance is met with threats and promises of death. Ironic, I suppose. We all know the cards are on the table, though."

He folds his hands, letting it hang there. "Don't put yourself in a position to have them both fall upon you. Turn the Union and Confederacy agianst each other, play upon their natural tendencies. Buy yourself time to find a way to either remain independant, or sell yourself dearly enough that you can guarantee a place."

"How should you react? The same way I am reacting. It seems we're more alike than we are different, in the end. I can't tell if that makes us suited to one another or whether I should attempt to kill you immediately."

He smiles. "I'm sure you're thinking the exact same thing. The problem is, where does that get us? The entire situation is untenable."

Cell (696) has posed:
     It is super valuable to have a nonhuman puppet face.

     "It's true," Cell obseves placidly as his strange eyes remain fixated on Kakarot's. Hate, both artificial and personal, wells up inside the insect-monster's mind. Hate for his man. Hate for what he represents. Hate for what he does, what he is, and what he could become. What he *has* become. What he's done in other worlds, and what he's done in Cell's own.

     But...

     But then a second thought, cold and cruel, cuts its way through the white-heart hate. As the part of him that's Vegeta attempts to roar and scream in sound and fury, the productive Gero side of him - not to mention several other Red Ribbon Army leaders - silences it. There were...opportunities here. A lot of opportunities. And, really, if he let his hate control him, would he *be* anything better than a Saiyan?

     It's not like he can't get Kakarot's back at a later date, when it's nice and exposed. Of course, Kakarot probably imagined the same thing. So the key here was simple.

     Cell's eyes smile. He leans back in the chair and steeples his fingers. "You're right. We are alike, aren't we. If we kill each other, we're doing their work for them. It doesn't profit either of us in the long run - it profits Vegeta, Serori, Taylita, and Raditz. And I don't know about you, Your Highness, but I have no desire to profit any of those creatures."

     "Cards on the table, though. I have no real desire to profit you. And I can't imagine you have any desire to see me prosper, either. Does looking at me bother you the same way it does Vegeta? When you look at me, do you see the Saiyan part of me, deep down, and become revolted by the very idea of a Saiyan's blood in a creature like me? Indulge me, I'm curious." Cell waves a hand.

     "Because if you can get over your revulsion, I think I can get over mine. For the sake of profit."

     "I am, in the end, a businessman, after all."

Kakarot (723) has posed:
Kakarot's opinion remains inscrutable. What is he really thinking behind that smiling face? That smile, so Goku-like in some ways, but changed. Lines of pain, of ruthlessness, of having to make decisions for the sake of leadership crease his face, take it from a duplicate and into some kind of nightmarish uncanny valley that haunts those who might have known the other being.

But you can hide a lot of things behind a smile. Cell knows this. Kakarot seems to just smile more every time he gets pushed. What does it hide? What is he thinking?

Does he smile like that when he punches his hands through someone, feeling their blood run between his fingers?

He knocks on the table twice as Cell speaks. "You've come the same conclusion I have, then. Even if you hate me and my people, fighting between us isn't going to accomplish anything when we have far greater problems to deal with. I think over time you are going to come to realize I'm not what you're trying to destroy. Unless you're afraid I might become something worse, but then, at that point it won't matter now, will it?"

He leans forward and stares at Cell for several seconds. "Apparently there's a man out there who is supposed to be my child. He isn't pure Saiyan, either. I admit, I'm curious what kind of person that man was, and what kind of woman he found to be his mate to result in him. The question isn't whether you revolt me, Cell. The question is whether we can use each other to buy ourselves more time, improve our positions. That's the basics of real diplomacy when you get down to it. We both have something to offer, and for the sake of my people, I'll deal with you. I have yet to be convinced if the Union or Confederacy would be any better than signing my people away to another Frieza once more."

Cell (696) has posed:
     Cell would be surprised if he didn't. Cell would be *shocked* at the idea of a Saiyan who didn't enjoy the ruthlesness, the violence. As far as Cell's aware, it's hard-coded into them. Even Goku at his best enjoyed the primal joy of fighting. Why would Kakarot be any different?

     The thought of Kakarot as actually being different really hasn't crossed Cell's mind at all.

     "I think," Cell observes, "It would take actual work to be something worse than Vegeta and his group. And I think that in this situation, we're both choosing which bedfellows we intend to have stab us in the back."

     "I currently work for the Syndicate. I imagine they might actually be interested in a large-scale, professional army. And I imagine they won't care too terribly much where you swing your sword." Cell strokes his lack-of-a-chin. "I recommend you go have a conversation with one of their leaders."

     "Alright, Kakarot. You have a deal. The Red Ribbon Regiment will assist the Neo-Saiyan Empire against the Saiyan Empire in any conflict you find yourself in, for a reasonable price. In exchange, you will keep your hands off my planet." Cell's eyes harden.

     "After all. There are plenty of worlds out there."

Kakarot (723) has posed:
"The Syndicate, eh. I will look into it." Kakarot replies. "Perhaps we will be taking similar paths once again." He gestures. "You're right. There /are/ many worlds out there. More than enough for all of us to flourish if we do this right."

He reaches out and picks up another huge meatbone. "Is there anything else you wanted to address while you were here?" He begins gnawing as soon as he's done talking. Looks like he's getting back to dealing with Saiyan hunger needs again.

Cell (696) has posed:
     "Not particularly," Cell replies, standing, "I think that covers most of it. Let's say I was here to satisfy my curiousity more than anything else."

     He rolls his shoulders. "And you have. Nice doing business with you, Kakarot."

     "I imagine you'll want me to keep this quiet for the time being."

Kakarot (723) has posed:
Kakarot nods "It'll be for the best. No point in showing our hand before we have to." He gnaws on the meatbone. It vanishes quickly, as he devours it bone and all. "I'll have you shown out. Gaplan." He gestures, and the silent Saiyan appears out from behind Kakarot's chair (When did he get there?), and then moves to stand next to Cell. He gestures, and leads the way to the exit, the same way Cell came in.