Bringer of Death

Cell Saga - Part 11: Super Namek vs Super Namek

Cell Saga - Part 11: Super Namek vs Super Namek 

The lone conqueror wore a purple and yellow tunic, orange gloves, a scarf, and had two thick straps crossing his chest. His golden throne was lined with velvet, gold-thread patterns laced through it. The seven large dragonballs of Namek, presently nothing more than inert stones, were mounted in a box at his feet. 

Lord Slug's brow was sloped, and his skull extended further back than most Namekians, giving him an almost-neanderthal appearance. But this was due mostly to the unique circumstances regarding his age. Until a few days ago, he had been an old man, living off borrowed time that only advanced medicine could provide. Yet this had all changed. Not only had the dragon balls restored his youthful vigor, but they had taken away aging itself. Now his dreams of conquering the entire universe were within his grasp. 

His relaxation was a well-earned comfort, something his men had fought for over the past few days. But the Super Namek was bored. He hadn't lifted a finger during the conquest of Namek; his henchmen Angila, Wings, Medamatcha, and Zeeun had been more than a match for the planet's strongest warriors. 

It had been a disappointment to him that his brother's children were unable to put up any real resistance. Truth be told, he was ashamed to be kin to them. The feeling marked one of the old differences between the brothers; Slug had always looked up to the warrior clans with the highest level of respect, while Guru treasured his place in the dragon clan. 

At the time, the Namekian people had been the strongest race in the galaxy. They possessed the highest technology and held positions of respect in their quadrant and beyond. Yet, though they had more than enough impetus to expand their territory, the elders had chosen to remain decidedly ordinary. Katas and the others pursued the old ways not for the power they could afford, but for the sake of maintaining peace and harmony. Slug had kept silent about this for decades, always dissatisfied, always wanting more. In the end, the lure of power had been too great for him to resist. 

Now, all that power was his. Few other Namekians had been bold enough to seek power for power's sake, and none had come close to what he had achieved. At the start, he had pulled a handful of other Super Nameks over to his side, but most of them had fallen before the strength and cunning of Katas and his followers. Since being banished from Namek, however, the other Super Nameks had all passed on, either dying in battle or simply falling victim to old age. As they died, so died Slug's respect for the people of Namek. Today, the Namekians were nothing more than farmers and magicians, a joke compared to what their race could have been. 

Slug didn't know that the son of Katas had possessed the same desire for power that had marked him. On Earth, Kami and Piccolo Daimao had separated, each representing the dark and light sides of the Namekian ways. Piccolo had taken the title of king and unleashed hellish fury on the Earth, pursuing the same path as his uncle...but in vain, thanks to the efforts of Mutaito, Roshi, and finally Goku. King Piccolo's life force, reincarnated into his son Piccolo Junior, had also sought power for power's sake...but he had been redeemed from the path of darkness and fused with Kami. The son of Katas had returned. 

The tyrant stood, smiling. Being free from the aches and pains of old age was a simple joy, but a precious one. With his renewed youth, he suddenly found himself wanting to be outside in the fresh air more often...after all, it was a bit murky on his huge ship. Slug walked to a small lift, which carried him to the top of the vessel. When he stepped out into the sunlight, he found its warmth and light to be gentle. As an old man, his eyes and body had preferred darkness; he had forgotten what the open air was like. For a moment, Slug was almost glad that his terra-freezing process hadn't worked on Namek. He had plenty of planet-sized ships already, and his homeworld wouldn't have made the best one anyway. Things looked different than he remembered, though. The vast forests of tall trees topped with puffy blue leaves were all but gone. There were no birds in the air or animals in the fields, and the land masses were separated into small dots of islands by what seemed like an endless ocean. Clearly the planet had not yet recovered from the cataclysm wrought when he had first attempted to terra-freeze it centuries ago.