Going Native: Feeling of Loss (ch. 53) (Patreon)

Old habits died hard, Shayera realized as she found herself sprinting towards trouble instead of away from it. Explosions rang out across the upper plate that divided Thangar -- the cities built on the upper plate were metropolis unlike any in the universe. Everything that wasn't on the upper plate was slums.

But, because they were on the upper plate the response was uniform -- military service was mandatory for all full citizens of Thangar. Members of her species flew low through the streets, heading to the nearest depo if they were unable to retrieve their assigned weapon. Or, in her case, to pick up a weapon because she had none. While Thangarians flew above, other species ran below towards shelters.

She heard screams in the distance and explosions rocked the plate, telling Shayera that the procedures weren't going to plan but it was better than mindless panic. Flapping her wings, she sailed around the slower Thangarians until she saw her destination -- a defensive perimeter being set up around a depo building. Even better, she recognized the man in charge.

"Shayera?" Varrick, a decorated military police officer noticed her as she approached. Wasting no time, he tossed a slender spear with a formed head in her direction. "Good to see you back in action. Where's Katar?" He asked, keeping a watchful eye on the skies above as more soldiers trickled into the depo.

Shayera twirled the staff gun, finding it a bit light for her tastes but it was nice to hold a weapon again. "He's probably on his way here now," Shayera answered. Their communicators were being jammed planet-wide. Or, at the very least, they were on a civilian level. Planting the butt of the spear into the ground as she touched down with her feet, she gave Varrick a serious look. "Where am I going?"

In response, Varrick turned to look at the Palace. Shayera did so as well -- there were signs of fighting, showing that-

"They've already taken the palace," Varrick informed, delivering a brutal punch to the gut. It had been less than half an hour since the invasion began. "And they're setting up shop there. I'm in contact with two other depos nearby -- communications are offline, so what we know isn’t as much as we would like, but I'm getting reports of probing forces coming from the capital."

Meaning that the Frieza-force had secured it completely. Queen Teach's warning rang in her skull like a bell and Shayera knew that everyone in the palace was dead. Or they wished that they were.

"We're making a push for the palace shortly -- we take it back, we can get a view of the situation planet-wide and look to kicking this scum off our planet," Varrick announced, earning scattered shouts of approval. Shayera nodded, really wishing her Nth metal mace, but a blaster would have to do. "So suit up, Shayera. I want to see you in armor again."

Flashing him a smirk, Shayera wasted no time obeying the order. Flying into the depo, she suited up with practiced ease. A scale harness that covered her body with plates over them for additional protection while her wings were protected by a secondary harness made of Nth metal. It would be too much to let her fly, but with enough Nth metal, it could allow you to fly. As well as breath in space.

After sliding on a familiar hawklike helmet, Shayera was ready for combat. Despite over half a decade of being without it, the armor felt like a second skin. A few others in the locker room recognized her, offering nods of acknowledgment as they marched in formation. There was no real-time for a briefing of the mission at hand. Each second they delayed was a second that the Frieza-force used to dig in.

Shayera fell in line, looking amongst the dozens of others nearby for her husband but she failed to find him. She wasn't worried, persay but… Katar wasn't the warrior that he was. Neither was she for that matter. She didn't think he would have fallen so easily, but combat was chaotic at the best of times. But, beyond her worries, Shayera had faith. Rust or not, her husband wasn't the type to die in such a way.

"Ready yourselves. We're attacking the Frieza-force, but we aren't doing it alone," Varrick yelled out since even the most basic of communicators were unavailable to them. "That Queen said we're nothing but good and entertainment to them. Let's show her that Thanguarian's are a bit too tough for her!" It was a short speech, but an effective one. Emotions were running high, and beyond the disbelief that their capital was under attack, there was a desire for vengeance.

Shayera just wanted to protect her home. Thangar might have doomed her to die wasting away, but that wasn't reason enough to turn her back on the Empire. Almost as one, her and a few hundred others rose into the air, some flapped their wings while others simply used the Nth metal to float off the ground.

They flew off in formation and Shayera was glad to feel at home despite the circumstances. Now with a birds-eye view, she could see the scattered chaos around the upper plate. Explosions lit up the night sky, but the explosions were not of fire. Buildings had collapsed, falling onto the street below… she never wanted to see her home like this.

But she expected worse. Shayera did what she could to remain up to date, so she knew this was likely Prince Tarble's army. Pushing aside all questions of what happened to the Green Lanterns, the Prince's army was seasoned. They were used to flying to planets and killing absolutely everything that dared call them an enemy.

If it was his mother who was invading, then Shayera expected to see more than this. The fact that they had been able to rally even a small counterforce like the one flying to the palace didn't sit well with her. Despite knowing that she could trust her gut, Shayera flew in formation because the situation was out of her hands.

More alarming, there was no anti-air as the hundreds of troops flew towards the palace. Shayera held her weapon with a white-knuckled grip when she saw the anti-air turrets of the palace were disabled, which could explain it, but not the fact that the Frieza-force somehow forgot to make a defensive line.

They cleared the distance, landing safely on the palace, the uppermost layer of Thangar, and every single hair stood on end. Shayera turned her attention to the palace doors, seeing that they were still closed- "Contact, dead ahead," Shayera shouted, dropping to a knee as she leveled the blaster of her weapon when the door began to open…

To reveal a child.

"Oh, you guys got here quicker than I thought!" A young girl, a Saiyan judging by the tail wrapped around her waist. And the fact she pushed open a several ton doors with relative ease. Her hair was shoulder length and slicked back in a mane of spikes except for a lock that drifted down between her blazing yellow eyes. She stepped out, careless of the blasters aimed in her direction before a small frown tugged at her lips while a few others followed her.

Children. They were children.

"Where's the rest of you?" The girl questioned, planting her hands on her hips as she glared at them. Shayera's gaze flickered to the tallest among them, a boy with a wild mane of hair and a scar marking a cheek while he wore a deep green blanket of some kind around his shoulders.

"Open fire," Varrick mercilessly Ordered, firing the first shot. Countless more followed. Shayera hesitated for a moment before she pulled the trigger, making her arc-lance recoil a bit as a pale blue energy blast raced towards the Saiyans. A cloud of smoke was kicked up from the dispersed energy, but Shayera knew that the children weren't dead. Even before they stepped forward through the dust.

A bubble shield prevented their energy shots from progressing any further. Upon seeing that the attacks did nothing, Varrick ordered a quick 'scatter.' Hundreds of Thanagarian commandos scattered in the air, returning fire. Despite all of the noise, Shayera could swear she heard the girl let out a small sigh before saying, "I was hoping for a bigger turnout than this."

She raised a palm and an energy blast raced from it, and half a hundred Thangarian below her were gone. A grim realization settled on Shayera as she darted down to grab one Thangarian that hadn't been completely able to escape the blast. He screamed, holding onto her for dear life as his legs were vaporized.

But, when the blast faded, Shayera saw that the armor remained almost untouched. As did the palace balcony since it was also made of Nth metal. That was useful to know.

Shayera tossed the wounded soldier to a nearby soldier before she clenched her jaw. She flew up, ready to get the drop on the children while the leader of the trio continued in a boisterous voice.

"I am Princess Elery!" Elery introduced herself, "That's Broly and Olaive. Mom said we could watch the gate and not let any of you inside!" Shayera nearly faltered at the sheer… innocent excitement in Elery's voice. But she didn't. Gritting her teeth, she took aim and launched her arc-lance at the Saiyan child.

The boy, Broly, reacted instantly. He darted forward and snatched the spear out of the air with ease. Shayera half expected him to launch it at her, but he simply glared in her direction. But that was okay. Shayera held out a hand and a soldier tossed her their arc-lance.

"Wait!" Elery shouted, holding up a hand and despite the growing tension, both sides did. "Do you want to wait until you get reinforcements? Oh, or are all of you some super-secret task force?!" The sheer amount of hope in her voice was unnerving.

"Open fire," Varrick ordered, his voice cold as ice. In response, dozens of energy blasts raced towards the children. Shayera took aim and fired once, aiming at the arc-lance power battery. The Saiyans formed their shields, but they weren't prepared for the explosion that rang out. Smoke and fire enveloped them, and for a moment, Shayera feared that the blood of children was on her hands -- active combatants or not, killing children was too much for her.

Her fears were quickly put to rest when a blur escaped the cloud of smoke, racing directly at her. Shayera reacted instantly, spotting where the point of impact would be, she put a forearm between her and the tiny fist of Elery. A split second later, her forearm smacked against her chest hard enough to bruise, sending her flying away fast enough that her wings were stripped of feathers. Air refused to enter her lungs for a moment as she willed herself to stop using the Nth metal in her armor.

Her forearm throbbed with pain, but pain meant she was still alive. If only because of the Nth metal. The metal was so very common on Thangar, so it was used in just about everything on the upper plate. Yet so very little was unknown about the metal that they used for construction, appliances, and weapons. It allowed wearers to breathe in space, fly, increased their durability and hit so much harder than they could naturally.

More than that, Nth metal was temperamental. Some pieces of the metal simply liked some users better than others. Like her mace -- Shayera could get her mace to do things that would be impossible in the hands of another. It wasn't sentient, it was just more of a comparability thing. It was the reason why she and her husband were grounded instead of being killed and their bodies lost.

"Cool! My scouter says you aren't that strong, but every other alien I punch gets blasted apart!" Elery informed, focusing on her as they floated above the palace. Below them, a battle raged as Broly and Olaive attacked the task force. It was clear that the Thangarians were losing, but so long as she could keep Elery occupied, then they had a chance to turn things around.

"I can believe it," Shayera remarked before she took aim and fired. Energy blasts shot towards Elery, who dodged them with what could only be described as practiced ease, energy coating her hands before condemning into blades. The small girl closed the distance in a split second, moving so fast it was difficult to follow. Shayera barely managed to block a blow with her arc-lance, the edge of the energy blade stopping at the core of the lance, and even then her arms nearly buckled under the force.

Urging the Nth metal to keep her in place, Shayera spun her lance, trying to catch the girl with the edge of the weapon, only for her to twist out of the way. Elery seized the opening and planted a fist in her gut, folding her like a piece of paper before spinning to catch her in the side of the head with the top of her foot.

Shayera shot to the ground, blacking out for a second, and only barely managed to soften her landing. Blood filled her mouth and her organs felt thoroughly tenderized, but she wasted no time pushing herself to her feet with the aid of her arc-lance. The battle that now raged around her was going poorly for the task force, a handful of bodies covering the ground, but with teamwork, they were able to hold out.

Elery closed in, a ferocious smile on her face as she cocked a fist back. Shayera put up her arc-lance in time to catch the blow, exactly where Elery had cut into it. The weapon folded, snapping in two as Shayera shifted to dodge. Gripping the lance half, she spun it down as Elery sailed forward. The timing was off, not just because of her hesitant and Elery's keen instincts, so the Nth metal edge plunged into Elery's shoulder instead of her back.

Elery continued to fly forward before coming to a stop and turning around. Blood dripped down her arm, but instead of screaming in pain or even crying, Elery glared at her wounded shoulder and the blade sticking out of it. As if she was annoyed that it had the audacity to be wounded at all. That wasn't the proper reaction to an injury. It either meant that Saiyan's nervous systems didn't register pain or she was so desensitized to it that a stab through the shoulder barely registered.

"Ouch!" Elery grimaced as she yanked the weapon out, proving that it wasn't the former. "Brother is right -- you just can't trust power levels," she muttered as she rolled the wounded shoulder and tossed the lance to the side. She was wounded, but Shayera doubted that was enough to even the scales.

Her eyes darted around for a weapon, spotting one from a fallen Thangarian. The action brought her attention to just how many bodies were around -- though, to her surprise, there were more alive than dead. Shayera looked just in time to see Broly destroy Varrick's arm, but once he fell the boy moved on.

"You aren't using those blasts," Shayera noted, tensing to lunge for the third nearest weapon. Elery, despite her age, was a warrior. She would expect her to go for either the first two, but not the third.

"Course we aren't. Where's the fun in that?" Elery questioned, tilting her head, almost confused why she would ask such a stupid question. Queen Teach's words echoed in her skull like a bell -- food and entertainment. That's what they were to the Saiyans.

Shayera grit her teeth before she feinted for the closet weapon before lunging for the third. She rolled to her feet, scooping it up from the deceased Thangarian, ready to defend but Elery hadn't moved. Only to launch herself after Shayera was ready -- a warrior's conduct. Shayera slashed at the girl, who easily dodged the attack before Shayera felt a blow on her wings.

"Tsk," Elery muttered, energy blades coating her hands -- she had just tried to cut off her wings. "I wanted them as a trophy -- it's no fair that Brother keeps collecting them."

Shayera snarled, thrusting the arc-lance to skewer the girl. But in a contest of speed, Shayera was no match. Elery easily dodged the lance, kicking down on the shaft so it was ripped from her hands. Shayera managed to throw up her hands in time for a block, but the force of the heel that slammed on her collarbone snapped it in two. Before she had time to register the pain, Elery spun and planted a foot between her breasts, nearly breaking her sternum as she shot back.

Her back slammed into the ledge of the palace, the unyielding Nth metal stopping her cold. Only the Nth metal on her armor and wings prevented her from being crippled, but she felt ribs give out.

"Shayera!" A familiar voice shouted out, and she looked to the source to find it was her husband. Katar looked mighty in his armor, his wings clad in Nth metal and two maces in his hands. One of which was hers. Her hands ached for its touch, but everything was busted at the moment.

Her husband landed in front of her before he tossed her a mace. There weren't words to describe feeling her weapon in her hands other than… righteousness.

"I'll be your opponent," Katar decided, brandishing his own mace that crackled with electricity. With their weapons, they could win. They lacked the strength to properly fight the Saiyans, but with pure Nth metal weapons, it became a possibility. Nth metal ignored things like durability to a certain degree -- it was more of… cause and effect. She swung her mace, and the target was hurt. In their brief stationing on Earth, they learned it wasn't infallible, but Elery wasn't powerful enough to ignore blows like some Earthlings could.

"Okay," Elery accepted easily. "But if you're going to get all serious, then so am I," she informed ominously. Shayera barely had time to comprehend that before Elery took in a slow breath and a wave of power washed over her and her husband.

"Wrath State… Stage… Ten!" Elery shouted, a vein bulging in her neck while another bulged in her forehead. Her blazing yellow eyes intensified, but now they were filled with rage. With wrath. The sight made a hole form in Shayera's gut as she forced herself to her feet, all too aware of how silent the battle around them became.

"What stage did you fight me at?" Shayera questioned, gripping her mace with white knuckles.

Elery grinned savagely, "Stage Four. Each stage is a multiplier, so I'm way stronger now. And I'm one of the only ones that can go Stage Ten!"

They lost. Any hope of victory drained from Shayera as she took in their positioning. Broly had crippled most of the task-force, though from the looks of it he and Olaive were about to come to blows about ‘not sharing.’ Even if they managed to win against Elery, they still had two other Saiyan’s to deal with and escape with hundreds of others.

It was utterly impossible.

Katar realized it as well. He crouched before he launched himself into the air, intending to put as much distance between the fighting and the wounded as possible. Most of them were down for the count, but survival was one hell of a motivation to getaway. All they had to do was give them the chance.

Elery’s gaze flicked between them and Shayera nodded before she slammed her mace into the ground. The Nth metal sang in her hands, almost as overjoyed to be reunited with her as she was with it. Electricity arced from the weapon, surging towards the Saiyans. Elery darted up while Broly grabbed Oalive when she was too distracted to notice. Her attack was ineffective, but it put their eyes on her and Katar.

They were going to die. No way around it. But that’s what being a hero was all about.

Being a hero was making the choice that when it came to sacrifice someone for the greater good that you wouldn’t allow anyone other than yourself to be that sacrifice.

Two lives for a few hundred. That was a good death in Shayera’s book.

“RAAA!” A scream fueled by pain ripped from her throat as she raced toward Elery, only to dart to the side, dragging the lot of them away from the wounded. Despite Elery apparently going Stage Ten, it was Broly who reached her first. She twisted in the air, launching an attack at the boy, who dodged with ease.

“Stay down,” He muttered to her before he punched her in the stomach hard enough that her armor warped around the blow. Despite the harsh words, his tone and eyes didn’t reflect any malice. Any rage. Shayera looked into his yellow eyes and, for the moment that Shayera held his gaze, she thought that Broly was probably the saddest child on the planet.

But, even still, she grit her teeth and countered. Her mace lashed out, catching him by surprise. He managed to block, but he cried out in pain as he was batted away and sent flying down into the city below. Her body ached, but the pain was fading. Blood rushed out of her mouth, splattering to the ground below as she fell with grace.

Katar battled Elery, and he was faring about as well as she was. Already his body was battered and bloodied, Elery circling around like a predator toying with a meal before swallowing it whole. But they were moving away from the palace, leaving it unguarded.

The other girl, Olaive, rushed towards Shayera, her face etched into a snarl as pure hate glowed in her eyes. Reacting as fast as she could, ignoring the hellish flash of pain with every movement, Shayera used the shaft of her weapon to block an energy blade that would have sliced her in two. Her arms lost their strength, her weapon holding but her body couldn’t.

But even in weakness, there was strength and Shayera wasn’t one to give up so easily. As her weapon was nearly knocked free of her grasp, she pivoted to use Olaive’s momentum against her. As Oalive rushed by, Shayera attempted to slam her mace into her face, only for the girl to dodge. She saw how dangerous it was against Broly.

As a counter, Olaive drove a fist into her rips, and they snapped. Shayera’s hands shook as she tried to fight through the pain, taking a wild swing, but she was done for. Her will slipped as she began to fall to the ground, her gaze looking up while she fell. Katar fought with all of his might, but he was outclassed. And when she fell, he was distracted. A blow slammed into his arm, and Shayera noticed that it was broken.

Her attention was stolen when her back slammed into a rooftop of a building. She bounced once, her armor managing to protect her from the worst of it, but when she settled, blood erupted from her mouth with a cough. A lung had been punctured. Each breath was pure hell, and shallower than the last. Olaive flew over her for a moment before she rushed to where Shayera had knocked Broly.

Had she hit him that hard? She didn’t think so. Those sad eyes of his… a kid like that had no place on the battlefield. Tough or not. He was probably throwing the fight.

“Hnnnghh,” Shayera groaned, attempting to push herself up back to her feet. Her eyes darted to the palace above, hoping to see others flying away to regroup for another, far better-prepared assault. There were none. Shayera could only hope that was because they had already managed to getaway.

Using her armor to help her along, Shayera spat on her body's limits and pushed herself to a knee. Her mace propped her up, preventing her from faceplanting, letting her look up at the fight above. Katar swung at Elery, but the girl was simply too fast. She was toying with him, trying to drag out the fight.

Worse, she wasn’t even being cruel about it. It was like she expected Katar to suddenly get stronger the more she drove him into a corner. Elery was waiting for the fight to get tougher, but Katar just kept weakening the higher his injuries stacked. With the moon offering its light, Shayera watched as her husband was kicked to the ground with an axe kick and he shot down.

A shout of worry tried to rip out of her throat, but she hacked up blood instead. Even still, her husband seemed to hear her as he glanced in her direction. Despite the wounds, despite all of the blood, he stood tall and offered her a small smile before he looked away. She knew that smile. She had fallen in love with that smile.

That smile that promised that he was about to do something incredibly stupid to save the day, even if it cost him his life.

Her legs wouldn’t obey her commands to stand. They wobbled underneath her, and all Shayera managed to do was fall over. “No,” Shayera cursed, dragging herself forward towards the ledge of the building. Her ribs screamed, blood trickling up her throat, but she didn’t care. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

They were supposed to die together. What was that idiot thinking?

Shayera dragged herself onto the ledge, intent on shouting to draw attention to herself. It was spitting on the sacrifice he was trying to make. He was trying to save her life. But Shayera didn’t care. It was selfish, completely, and utterly, but she didn’t care. A universe without Katar was one she didn’t care to be in.

She would rather die here with him than live a minute without him.

“Ka-” She started, only for a hand to clamp down on her mouth. Small. Too small.

“You have to be quiet, or you’re going to die too,” Broly whispered fiercely in her ears. She tried to tell him that was the entire point, but he was just too strong. Kindness and worry shone in his eyes, mixing together with confusion and indecisiveness. A bruise covered half of his face, but he didn’t seem to notice.

He was a good kid. A kind child that had absolutely no place in this war.

“Elery? I did say guard the gate, didn’t I?” A voice rang out, and Shayera looked up to see it was a woman. The resemblance to Elery was striking -- the same face structure, the same hair, all the way down to that same feral smirk. Elery would grow up to be a beautiful woman. She wore white Frieza-force armor with a red symbol above her left breast.

Elery looked up, pausing mid-attack with an almost fearful expression. “O-oh… yeah… But these guys kept trying to run away!”

“Don’t make excuses. You got carried away with the fight,” Teach rebuked, though not unkindly. As if she completely understood and didn’t hold it against her. “I gave you a job to do, Elery. How can either I or your brother give you responsibilities if you keep running off to do whatever you want?”

Of everything, those words seemed to do the most damage to Elery. The girl pouted, the veins disappearing and the aura of power she carried diminished. “I’m sorry,” Elery muttered.

“It’s fine,” Teach said, touching down on the rooftop across the street. The one that Katar stood on. No. No. No, no, no… “But, there will be a punishment.” NO! In a blur, Teach darted forward, an energy blade sprouting around her hand. A scream ripped from Shayera’s throat when the tip of it punctured underneath Katar’s jaw and skewered his brain.

Her vision blurred, tears running down from her eyes over the hand of the boy who was trying to save her life. None of the pain in her body could be compared to the feeling of her other half being killed. It was as if half of her died in that moment when Katar’s weapon dropped from his grasp before he collapsed.

Dead.

“You! Mom! You can’t just…! I was…!” Elery pouted, crossing her arms while Teach just laughed. There wasn’t even any blood on her hands. She had just killed the love of her life and the Saiyan woman was laughing.

“It wouldn’t be much of a punishment if you enjoyed it, now would it?” Teach remarked, patting her daughter on the head. “But I have some good news. Your plan worked! The guns that we dropped off on the lower plates are working like a charm. Pretty much the entire planet is revolting.”

The lower plates. The slums where most of the population resided. The Frieza-force gave them weapons? They were revolting?

The capital was lost. The empire was going to crumble.

Katar was dead.

For the first time in her life, the fight left Shayera. Elery shouted with pure, undiluted joy before declaring that she was going to become a general like her brother, but Shayera could barely hear her. It was like the world around her was fading away. Her grip slackened on the ledge, and she let Broly rest her against it to hide her. He cautiously removed his hand from her mouth, looking like he wanted to say something.

“I’m sorry?” He tried, sounding like he was trying to apologise for everything. From the invasion to the death of her husband to saving her life. Silent tears dripped from her eyes in response. Broly looked up, frowning as a hand went to his scouter. He paused for a second before looking at her, “I have to go now… but please don’t die. I…” He trailed off, unsure what to say. So he said nothing at all.

He made a small purple ball with his hands and held it in front of her. The pain lessened instantly. Again, he opened his mouth, only to say nothing again. With a small shake of his head, Broly drifted up while looking down at her. Then he flew off, leaving her alone.

Shayera let the purple light wash over her for a while. Until it faded. Her bones were healed, the bruises had faded. Beyond a deep exhaustion that she felt all the way down to her mended bones, Shayera was physically fine. Her grip tightened on her mace before she shifted it so it was resting on her lap.

Katar was dead. The selfless idiot did something so incredibly selfish and left her alone. Part of her craved vengeance. Lusted for it. Demanded it. But Katar…

“Broly…” Shayera spoke slowly, her tears continuing to fall. The taste of blood was heavy on her tongue.

“No matter what… I’m going to save you.”

Because that's what heroes do.