#eteii

[11 April, 233 Before Age.   Eetii.]

The Striker Corps. was a band of Saiyan mercenaries.    Their crew numbered over one hundred, not counting their young children, who had been known to join in on battles when needed.   Their leader, Mato had heard tales of the Saiyan Free Company, but he wasn't terribly interested until they became embroiled in the Jindan/Federation War.   Now, he sat across from the S.F.C.'s leaders in the conference room of some Eetian hotel, negotiating their entry into the alliance.

"We've learned that my father, King Rehval, is leading the Jindan Cult," said Princess Seltiss.   Mato had heard there was a teenage girl in charge of the S.F.C.,  and while it hadn't bothered him much at the time, seeing her in person made it very difficult to ignore how young she looked.    She did her best to carry herself like a seasoned leader, and maybe that was enough to convince others, but to Mato it looked like bad comedy.

Mato put his feet up on the table and grinned.  "I don't care one bit about you royals and your internal power struggle," he said.  "I want a good fight.  And this war of yours looks like it'll be one for the ages."

He'd already gotten a taste of that.   The Striker Corps had gotten permission to enter Federation space, but it had been a running firefight all the way to to Eetii, as the Jindan cult was very keen on intercepting any outsiders who might help the Federation.    Now that the Strikers had already drawn blood for the alliance, this negotiation was something of a formality, but there were still details to be sorted out.    A little insolence was a good way to test the waters in a partnership.  How badly did they need his help?  Were they willing to forgive a little rudeness to secure his cooperation?

"Have a care--" Xibuyas began to protest as he rose from his chair, but Seltiss held up her hand to call for him to stand down.  Xibuyas obeyed, and took his seat.    Well, that answered that.    Mato could sense the young man's power rising.    He was probably the girl's personal enforcer, and only present at this meeting to showcase the power at her command.   And he was very powerful at that.   Mato decided not to test Seltiss any further.

"I like your enthusiasm," Seltis said, "but you could find just as much action fighting for the other side.  Will you pledge your loyalty to me?"

"Hmmph!  They say the enemy demands more than loyalty, girl.  They would ask for my soul itself.  Methinks you drive the better bargain.  Aye, I'll pledge my allegiance to you, and my mens' as well!  Not the women, though.  They get a mite testy whenever I presume to speak for them."

This drew a smirk from Luffa, who sat beside Seltiss at the table.   Mato was pleased to see that at least someone in this alliance had an appreciation for humor.

"Fair enough," Seltiss said.  "If you need fresh supplies or repairs for your ship, you can speak with one of my generals."

"Fine, fine!" he said.  "For now, I only ask one boon, Princess.  The Super Saiyan?"

"What about the Super Saiyan?" Luffa asked.

Mato put his feet back down on the floor and leaned forward to stare into Luffa's eyes.  "D'you think you could arrange for me to meet him?"

*******

[17 April, 233 Before Age.   Planet Bakoom.]

The battle had raged across Bakoom for days.   There were multiple theaters of combat, as Federation and Saiyan ships sought to prevent Jindan soldiers on the ground from attacking major population areas.  On the rocky coastline of one of the northern continents, where the fighting was fiercest, Luffa and Mato battled seven Jindan Saiyans and hundreds of their mercenary allies.   No one knew the cultists had any allies until now, but things had apparently changed.  

Every time it seemed that the defenders would be overwhelmed, Luffa would summon more of her power and put her foes back on the defensive.  She would keep the Jindans occupied while Mato attacked the small fry.   She was the same woman Mato had met on Eetii, only now her hair and tail were glowing bright yellow, and her ki was so intense that he had trouble sensing anything else while she was nearby.    Gradually, Mato managed to adjust.   Instead of seeking out the energy of his foes, he began to search for "shadows" in the seemingly endless brightness that was Luffa's power.   It was like an astronomer spotting planets in transit across a sun.    

"Well, General?" Luffa growled as she broke the neck of one of her foes.  "You wanted to see me in action, right?"

"Said I wanted to meet the Super Saiyan," he shouted back.  "Never said anything about invading hell!"

He was exaggerating, but only slightly.   He had faced steeper odds in the past, but never with so much at stake.   There was no way off the planet, as the ships they had arrived in had been destroyed, and their comrades in orbit wouldn't dare come to pick them up until the enemy had been neutralized.   Luffa was the only thing keeping their forces alive, and while she was incredibly powerful, Mato doubted that she could handle all of these enemies alone.    As thrilling as the battle was, the taste was soured by the spectre of death.    If there was any possible way to retreat, he would have done so hours ago.    But leaving Luffa's side would be instantly fatal.    Even if she didn't kill him for cowardice, the enemy would surely pick him off before he could get very far.    

But Luffa was having the time of her life.   All Saiyans enjoyed combat, and it was said that the old Saiyan heroes loved it even more.    Men like Darbock and Chanisp were supposed to relish fighting in a way that Mato had never really understood.   But now, he was seeing this in person.    It was as if Luffa didn't care if she won or lost, or even if she lived or died.   She was surrounded by enemies on all sides, and she kept daring more of them to attack her.   There was a strategic purpose to this--by keeping the cultists focused on her, she could create openings for Mato and the others-- but there was nothing strategic about the eager smile on her face, nor the gleeful look in her cold green eyes.

Luffa laughed.  "What's the matter, too hot for you?" she asked.   "I can lighten your load a little."   Mato was horrified at the offer.   She was doing so much already, and offering to do even more?    He wasn't sure what scared him more: that she could actually pull it off, or that she would die with a smile on her face as she tried.

"This is no time to get cocky," Mato yelled.  He didn't like talking to her as she fought.    Sometimes she moved so fast that he couldn't even see her, and yet she could hear him all the same.  He didn't want to distract her, and yet, it never bothered her at all.  

An alien with a cybernetic jaw managed to get close enough to try to bite his arm.   He fired a wide energy blast to keep anyone else away, then swatted him aside, knocking the metal clean off his face.    

Necro-cyborgs, Mato had heard them called.   There were a handful of weapon designers and cyberneticists in the galaxy who had found a way to reanimate dead bodies and arm them for combat.    The main advantage was that a corpse could suffer operating conditions that would kill a live subject, and it was cheaper to manufacture replacement parts for a corpse than to simply build an entire android, or hire a real soldier.   The main disadvantage was that nearly every civilization in the universe deemed necro-cyborgs to be a war crime.    That didn't seem to bother the Jindans much.    Mato had heard that some of their people had dabbled in undead cannon fodder as well.    

He had brought six of his best soldiers to Bakoom, but four of them were dead or missing.    There were some Federation soldiers operating on the coastline as well, but they were fighting on the other end of the battlefield, trying to take advantage of the opening Luffa had created for them.    Mato and his remaining Strikers could only hold their ground and try to repel as many dead aliens as they could so that Luffa could handle her end of things.      And now she was offering to help them, like she  hadn’t been already.

"You might be the devil herself," he shouted, "but if you so much as take your eyes of those Jindan bastards, one of them will pick me off for sure!"

"Then I won't use my eyes," Luffa said.  "Ki senses should give me a target."

"These scum aren't even alive!" Mato shouted.  "They haven't got any ki to sense."

"Then I'll just use my own," Luffa said as she ducked an attack from a Jindan.  "Golden Duster."

She threw out her hands and launched a ki burst in the form of thousands of tiny energy globules.  One of the Jindans tried to block it, but the mist-like phenomenon simply spilled over his body harmlessly.  Seizing on his confusion, Luffa slipped behind him and landed a kick on one of his comrades before he could stop her.

Mato watched as the yellow fog spread out over the battlefield.    His own senses, though nowhere near as sharp as Luffa's, could suddenly make out the dead enemies just as easily as the live ones.    Before, their speed and numbers, along with the smoke and dust of the battle, had made them difficult to spot until they were almost on top of them.    Now, Mato could just pick his targets and shoot.  

She had adopted the same tactic he had used to adapt to  fighting in the presence of her blinding ki, and improved upon it.  Super Saiyan indeed.   

"'S a bloody miracle," cried one of his comrades, who siezed the opportunity even as Mato was still gaping in awe.  

"Miracle, my ass!"  said the other.   She also fired a barrage of ki blasts into the enemy line, but Mato could tell she wasn't relieved in the slightest.    

"Lighten up, Niptur," said the first.    

"She's a witch!" Niptur said.    "No better than whoever built these damned mecha-zombies, or those cultists with the weird powers!    We never should have come here, Azuki!"

"You were the one who was bored with being cooped up in the ship, Niptur!" Mato replied, trying to sound fearless in spite of the cold sweat running down his face.   Then he heard peals of thunder over his head, and he glanced up to find the cultists trying to fight Luffa hand-to-hand.  

"That's the way!" Luffa screamed.   "You all know what I'm up to now, don't you?    You're getting desperate to stop me, aren't you?   Well what are you waiting for?   Come on!"

Mato was to proud to admit it out loud, but he was beginning to wonder if Niptur was right about Luffa being a witch.     But there was nothing they could do, not while the enemy was still bearing down on them.   And then, just when it seemed like the fighting would never end, an explosion went off in the distance, and all of the necro-cyborgs collapsed like discarded toys.  A few of them sparked and sizzled as their circuits overloaded, but none of them were able to fight.    

"N-no!" cried one of the Jindan cultists.   Mato had never been able to get a good look at them until now.    He was a Saiyan man dressed in a red bodysuit with arcane symbols painted on his bare arms and legs.    He held a short spear that looked more suited to a whaling boat than an invasion.   The tatters of a burgundy cape hung from his shoulders as he looked out at the multitude of coprses strewn across the coast.  

Mato wasted no time aiming his hands to fire upon him.   The cultists had been moving too fast for him to hit, and there was a good chance that his attacks would be too weak to hurt them, but now that this one was standing still, and if he stayed off-guard for just a fraction of a second longer...

And then a miniature sun erupted in the cultist's chest.   Luffa had come up from behind and blasted him with a beam of her own power.  

"Yes!" she said, and Mato knew this was surely the last thing the cultist would hear.    

"You friends were pretty well-hidden," Luffa gloated,    "but now that I've picked them off, there's no one left to control all those corpses, huh?   That just leaves you four on your own!"  

Mato watched as Luffa came back into view, and the last of the cultists took up a defensive posture.    He wanted to try to attack them, but something told him there would be no point.    

"There's still enough of us to finish you, Luffa!" one of them cried, but it was obvious that none of them believed it.   Even so, Mato could see Luffa was hurt.   It had been easy to miss before, but now that he had gotten used to the glow that suffused her body, the bandages on her arms and chest were more apparent, and the way she moved indicated pain, even though she did her best to hide it.    He suddenly wondered if she had been holding back this whole time, and how much stronger she would be in full health.    

Luffa smiled.   "Hah!   Three Jindans is no challenge at all," she scoffed.    "You may as well take the shot."

"There are four of us, you damnable--!"    These were the last words of their leader, as a beam of light pierced his skull and cut him off before he could finish speaking.   His three comrades watched as his body dropped to the ground, then they looked off into the distance, searching in vain for the source of the attack.    

"Snipers," Luffa said.  She held up her finger and tapped a small communications device in her left ear.   "Not quite as talented as my wife, but Bakoom's got some good ones.    They've been keeping me posted during this whole scrap.    Now, I don't usually take prisoners, but if anyone wants to tell me where Rehval is hiding, I'd be delighted to make an exception."  

They didn't, and so Luffa destroyed them, one by one.     Mato had expected them to last longer than they did, but it was just as she had predicted.   Once their numbers were whittled down, they were no match for her.  

*******

[20 April, 233 Before Age.   Interstellar Space.]

After Bakoom, the Striker Corps was attached to the Federation's Sixth Fleet, operating mainly on the north-anticenter side of Federation space.  Battles were few and far between, and they mostly amounted to cat-and-mouse games through interstellar space.   The safest way to foil the Jindan Saiyans was to intercept their ships before they could land on a planet and bring their full power to bear.    Mato would have preferred to fight them hand-to-hand, but dogfighting starships was the next best thing.   Best of all, the Striker Corps was automatically granted salvage rights to any enemy ship they shot down.    The Federation only asked that they turn over any navigational logs first, so that they could use them to try to find the Jindans’ home base.    

Salvage was a big part of the Strikers' business.   Mato's flagship had an entire bay dedicated for the task of stripping down captured ships for valuable parts and materials.  At one point, his teams thought they might be able to track down the cult based on the ships they used, but this quickly proved to be a dead end.   The only pattern to the cult's materiel was that there seemed to be no pattern.     Some of their ships were civilian craft, possibly stolen, while others looked to be taken from armadas from every corner of the galaxy.  The “mecha zombies” proved to bear out this observation.  It had been hoped that there was an arms dealer who supplied them to the cult for their attack on Bakoom, but it turned out that they were stolen.   The cult simply lucked into the necro-cyborgs when they hijacked a ship that was carrying them to an actual buyer.

"I tell you, it's a nice little war we've got ourselves into," he said to Niptur as he watched the salvage crews stripping computer cores out of their latest catch.    "I almost hope we never find those cultists' home planet.    They can just send all their warriors here and we'll keep fighting them for years to come."

"I'd like it a lot better if that 'Super Saiyan' wasn't involved," Niptur muttered.   "For all we know, this whole thing is one of her tricks."

"Still on this 'witch' business, are ya?" Mato asked.  

"She's no Saiyan, Mato,"  she said with a sneer.  "She might look like one some of the time, and maybe even act like one, but that just makes the whole act even more disturbing.   That magic she used to destroy those cyborgs.  No Saiyan could ever do that."

"I'll admit that she's more than I expected," Mato said.   "But we've met strong Saiyans in the past.     Hell, I'm stronger'n you are.   Does that make me a witch?"

"Everyone said the Super Saiyan was a man," Niptur argued.   "Then we get here and it turns out she's not.   That doesn't make you suspicious at all?"

"Aye, suspicious of the rumors," Mato replied.   "Spread by a bunch of losers who didn't want anyone to know they got beat up by a girl, I reckon."

"Hmmph.    If I were that strong, I wouldn't leave any witnesses," Niptur muttered.   "Look, it's your Corps, and you're right, this is a decent gig, so I'll back your play.  But something's not right about this, Mato, and I'm not the only one who thinks so."  

He didn't respond right away, and then someone came over to ask Niptur for something, and she excused herself to attend to that.    For a while, Mato just stood there alone and watched the salvage crews at work.    

He already knew that others shared Niptur's distrust.   The Saiyans in the cult, empowered by something called 'Jindan', were phenomenally powerful, and it was all thanks to some alchemical treatment.   So it wasn't exactly a stretch to think that Luffa's power came from some similar magic.   Many believed she was an alien, or an advanced android, or some other creature who merely resembled a true Saiyan.     There were all sorts of rumors and innuendos about Luffa's true nature.   Mato had even believed many of them himself.  

Now that he had fought alongside the real thing, he soon realized that much of what he had heard about the Super Saiyan was built upon lies and exaggeration.    What troubled him was that others like Niptur could meet Luffa in person and fight alongside her and still come away skeptical of her.    Was it jealousy?   Fear?    Stubbornness?   Or was Niptur right, and Luffa had deceived him somehow?

No, he couldn't accept that.   Luffa's abilities were vast and mysterious, but she seemed very grounded otherwise.  Mato considered himself to be a good judge of character.    In his line of work, those who couldn't spot traitors didn't live very long.   But if he was right, and all the naysayers were wrong, or afraid, or jealous, then what did that mean for his crew?    What did that mean for the entire Saiyan species?

At last, he left the salvage bay and forced himself to carry on with his daily routine.    The fate of the Saiyan race was above his pay grade, after all, and he had more immediate concerns to deal with.  

*******

[19 May, 233 Before Age.   Grantrak X.]

Mato didn't cross paths with Luffa again until the Striker Corps were deployed to Grantrak X.    There was only supposed to be one Jindan Saiyan attacking the planet, but somehow Luffa got intel that there would more, and she arrived just in time to rescue the Grantrakkians and their defenders from no fewer than eleven cultists.    This time around, Mato couldn't fight alongside Luffa.    A stray ki blast had injured his arms and one of his knees, and he was forced to monitor the battle from a medical evac station.  

His ki senses told him most of what he needed to know.    To his amazement, Luffa was actually stronger than she had been on Bakoom, although it was difficult for him to compare power levels of that scale.    She was improving with each battle, which seemed to him as the ultimate proof that she was a true Saiyan, though he doubted Niptur would be convinced.    

"What's happening now?"  asked one of the other patients lying next to him.    They were being loaded onto a transport to be taken to a hospital in the nearest city.  

"Dammit, they got Letz!" Mato grumbled.

"Who?"  

"Friend of mine," Mato muttered.    "One of those Jindan bastards managed to corner him."    It infuriated him how powerful the cultists were.   Individually, they didn't hold a candle to Luffa, but they were still stronger than any normal Saiyan.   It was rare for Letz to meet his match in a one-on-one fight.   There was no question that the cultists got him.   There was a strange quality to their ki.    It was Saiyan in nature, but there was something... off about it.    It made it easy for him to tell who was who in a situation like this, but it also highlighted that the Jindan Saiyans had tampered with their own bodies somehow.    The thought of it revolted him.   At least Letz had died with his pride in tact.    He had fought and fallen as his own man.    That was all any Saiyan could hope for.    No, not any Saiyan.   The cultists apparently didn't care about their own pride.   They had thrown it away so that someone else could make them stronger.  

"But Luffa's still fighting them, isn't she?" the other patient asked.  

Mato would have ignored this man normally.    He was pretty sure the patient was a Grantrakian soldier.    He had purple skin, and four eyes in a row on his face.    Mato preferred to keep his dealings with aliens to a minimum.  He didn't exactly hate them, but they were weak, and even their warriors had a distaste for combat, and it was better all around if he could just haggle out a contract and move on.   But he was hurt, and the medic wasn't going to get him back on his feet any time soon, not if the pain in his knee was any indication.   Talking to aliens was the only thing he could do to pass the time, and they all wanted to know the same thing.  

"She's still in it," Mato said.   "Don't know why it's taking her so long, really.   With all the power she's putting out, she ought to be..."  

"Ought to be what?" the other patient asked.    

"She's hurt," Mato said.   "She's putting out a lot of ki, but her body's too banged up to make the best use of it."

"How could anything hurt her?" the patient asked.   "She's invincible, isn't she?"

Mato wondered the same thing for a moment, but as he thought back to Bakoom and the days leading up to that battle, he began to remember things he had seen but not truly considered until now.   Luffa wore bandages wrapped around parts of her arms and shoulders.   In the few times she stood still long enough for him to look, he could see the edges of bandages sticking out from under the black top she wore.   Her hands twitched from time to time, and Mato began to suspect that her gloves were intended to help conceal this, or perhaps hide some other injury.    

She favored one leg.   It wasn't obvious.   Most beings probably could never tell anything was wrong.    Mato himself hadn't picked up on it until now, and he suspected it was because he now had fresh wounds of his own to remind him of what it was like.   His injured limbs felt like they were being roasted over an open fire.  If he lay still, the pain was bearable, but if he tried to move too much or too quickly, the flames would come roaring up in protest.    He'd had knee problems in the past, and he'd adjusted his fighting style because of that.    His comrades who had known him in his younger days picked up on it immediately.    But now, those Saiyans had all died or moved on to other wars.    The Striker Corps were mostly younger warriors, with no inkling that Mato had ever fought differently in his youth.    

He didn't think Luffa's injuries were too serious,  but how could anyone know for certain?   With her incredible ki, she could break every bone in her body and probably still destroy whole armies.    It would take a little longer, but most onlookers would hardly notice the difference.  

Mato sensed Luffa's power as she battled the cultists a few dozen miles away.    She was winning, but not as quickly as she had on Bakoom.   Her power was even more intense, and she was fighting even more ferociously than she had on Bakoom, but it was taking a little longer.   Mato could barely notice the difference, but it was there.  

Was that the Jindan Cult's grand strategy?    Were they just sending wave after wave of troops against Luffa, hoping that they could wear her down?   How long would that take?   Even if they succeeded, would there be any cultists left to celebrate the victory?      

Luffa had surely taken this possibility into account.   The Jindan Saiyans were fanatics, not idiots.    They wouldn't have invaded the Federation without some kind of plan for defeating its greatest protector.    He'd seen her in action, and knew she was too gifted a fighter not to consider all of this.   That was why she had her allies spread out across the frontier, only concentrating her forces when absolutely necessary.   The idea was to force the invaders to spread themselves out, so that she could kill them off one by one with less risk.   But every so often, they would gang up on a planet, and Luffa would have to go there and deal with them personally.    That was fine, but not if she didn't give herself time to recover from each battle.  

So why was she running herself ragged?   The Striker Corps alone couldn't have defeated this many invaders, but they could have held the line for a few days.   Long enough for reinforcements to arrive, and then they could hold out for weeks, maybe months.    Luffa surely knew this as well.    If anything, it might be easier to withdraw from a planet like Grantrak, and recapture it later.   At least then they would have the initiative, and what was on Grantrak X that was so important, anyway?

"Hey."    The Grantrakkian lying in the cot next to him was trying to get his attention.    "You don't think she's really hurt, do you?"

Mato looked back at him and saw genuine concern in his expression.   At least, he was pretty sure it was concern.    The four eyes on his face made it hard to read his body language.

"She saved my butt out there, you know?" the soldier said.   "One of those creeps tried to shoot me with that funky spear of his, and she just swooped in out of nowhere.   Next thing I knew, he was lying there on the ground, and that spear was sticking out of his throat."

Mato tried to roll over to face him, but the pain discouraged him, so he just stared up at the ceiling instead.    "What's your name, kid?" he asked.    

"Booter," he said.   Then: "Uh, Booter, sir.    I'm guessing you outrank me."

"Forget it," Mato said.   "Save your salutes for someone on his feet.    I'm the leader of the Striker Corps, but that doesn't much matter now."

"Striker Corps," Booter said.    "That's a Saiyan company, right?   I mean... I heard somewhere that Saiyans killed their own wounded.  But you--"

"You heard wrong," Mato said.   "My folk are as brutal and ruthless as they come, but I never met a Saiyan that crazy.    Well, maybe these Jindan bastards fit the bill..."

"Sorry," Booter said.   "I've heard some nasty rumors about my own species before.    I shouldn't have assumed it was true."

"Nah, that one's pretty close to the mark," Mato said.   "It's rare for a Saiyan go out of his way to save somebody, that's for sure.   Luffa must have already been attacking that guy when he was about to kill you.    You just lucked out."

"Huh.  Well, just the same.   I hope she didn't get hurt on my account," Booter said.  

They laid there in silence for a minute.   The sounds of explosions could be heard in the distance, and the evac station trembled slightly with each one.  

"What's so blamed important about this planet?" Mato asked.   "I've been in a lot o’battles, and usually I can tell what makes a rock worth fighting over, but here?    I've got no clue."  

"I don't know what you mean, sir," Booter said.   "The enemy just showed up and started attacking.     Same reason they've hit every other planet they've been to, I guess."  

"Right, but why put up such a stiff defense?" Mato asked.   "Nothin’ personal, but is this place really worth it?    In the grand scheme of things, I mean."

"I don't know, sir," Booter replied.   "But a lot more of us would be dead if you all hadn't showed up when you did.    So thanks."  

"Don't mention it, kid," Mato said.    "To a Saiyan, a good fight is its own reward."    

But he wasn't so sure that was true for Luffa.   And the thought of that sent a chill down his spine that had nothing at all to do with his injuries.  

*******

[20 May, 233 Before Age.   Grantrak X.]

Mato had surgery the next day.   He awoke in a Grantrakkian hospital to the smell of stew, and grunted with pain when he tried to sit up to see where it was coming from.    

"Hungry?"  He recognized the voice as Luffa's, but he was still surprised when she moved close enough to the bed that he could see her face.  

"What in--?!" he blurted out.    He didn't know what else to say.   She was the last person in the universe he expected to see, and she was ladling stew out of a pot for him.  

"I dropped by to get checked out," Luffa said.   "My doctor wanted some early reports before I head back to my ship, and I got sick of waiting around, and then I sensed you here and figured you could use some decent food."

Mato's arms were a long way from recovering.   He had asked one of the nurses to leave the controller for the bed in his hand, so that he could still raise and lower the headrest.    But they had either forgotten about this, or it had slipped out of his hand.   Then the bed seemed to raise him up on his own.    When his head was high enough, he found Luffa operating the controller with one hand, and giving him a bowl with the other.    

She was wearing the same gown as the one he wore.  Two of them, in fact, with one on backwards, like a jacket.    He glanced down, and found she was floating slightly above the ground.   One of her feet was heavily bandaged, and the other had a series of staples across the top.    She hadn't come in for a simple examination.  

"Why?" he finally said.    

"Because I like to cook when I'm bored," Luffa said.   "Wait, your arms were pretty banged up.   You probably shouldn't hold this."   She took the spoon from the bowl and started to feed him.     "You'd better not get all stubborn about this, either," she warned him.   "I'd be pretty sore about someone feeding me like this too, but I made a lot, and I'm not letting it go to waste, so eat."

Mato gave no argument.    He knew better than to argue with the women in his own crew, and he was hungry.  

"Dammit, that's not what I meant," he said between spoonfuls.  

She glared at him for a moment.   "That's a funny way of telling me how much you like it, Mato," she said ominously.  

"It's delicious!" he said.   Suddenly it seemed like self-preservation was more important than getting an answer to his question.   "It's very thick, like sauce."  

"I put some starches in it," Luffa said.   "Lot of people don't know to do that.   They only think in terms of taste.   What vegetables to throw in.   What spices.   Texture's important too, though.   Makes you feel like you ate something substantial.   Now, what were you asking me?"

"That soldier you saved on the battlefield," Mato asked.   "This whole planet!   The Federation, for that matter!   You're going out of your way for them, wearing yourself down, just to spare them a few casualties!"  

"More than a few," Luffa said.    

"And here you are feeding an old grunt like me when you should be gathering your strength for the important battles ahead!" Mato cried.    “Why?”

"Because you remind me of my father," Luffa said.   "The parts I liked, anyway.  He deserved what I did to him, but sometimes I miss him, if that makes any sense."  

"The hell it does," Mato said.   "You're mad, girl.    I keep going over it in my head, and all I can figure out is you're so desperate for a challenge that you dared yourself to care about things no Saiyan would ever dream of."

"I guess that's one way of putting it."     The grin on her face was all he needed to confirm his suspicions.  

"Listen... I've been fighting all over the galaxy since before you were born.   I've lost count of all the aliens I've done merc jobs for, and I've gotten pretty good at reading the room-- gulmph!"

"And what do you read?" Luffa asked as she put another spoonful into his mouth.

"Look, I learned a long time ago that the best way to stay in business was to look at the political side of it.   Clients go to war, and there's reasons, objectives.   Governments have to answer to their people, one way or another.    When the civilians start to sour on a war, you know it's only a matter of time before the contracts dry up.   Then you need to think about moving on."

He paused to accept another spoon.   "I've been keeping up with the news outlets since we entered Federation Space.   Folks're starting to get sick of this whole thing.    They were grateful before, and some of them still are, but a lot of them see this whole dance as a Saiyan conflict, and they blame you for pulling it into their backyard."  

"We both know it's more complicated than that," Luffa said.   "If I left the Federation tomorrow, they'd keep on attacking, just to draw me back.   And more people would die."

"Let them!" Mato said.   "You're letting yourself get played here!   And for what?   These folk won't even miss you when you're gone!"

"You really believe all that, Mato?"  Luffa asked.   "That I should cut and run?    Look out for myself?"  

"Of course I do," Mato said.  

"How'd you get those injuries?" she asked.   "I'm no expert, but it sure looks like you were blocking a ki blast that was too big for you."    

"I got cornered," he muttered.   "I'm getting too old for this stuff."

"You could have dodged," Luffa said.   "Or used the force of the blast to bounce yourself away.   Don't tell me you've forgotten how in your old age."    

"All right!" he grumbled.   "I was trying to cover Niptur while she was preparing an attack."  

"A Saiyan saving another Saiyan on the battlefield?" Luffa asked with a smile.  

"It's not the same thing!" Mato said.   "If I get killed out there, so what?   One less monkey on the battlefield.    But you're special!     One in a trillion!   If you die--!"

"If I die," Luffa said as she refilled his bowl, "then I must not have been that special, huh?   Besides, it's not like anyone would miss me, right?"

He wanted to shout at her, to force her to understand what he couldn't find the words to say.   There was something about her that was important, beyond her power, something that the whole Saiyan race needed to learn.    But she couldn't show them if she got herself killed in a pointless battle.   She wasn't even using her glowing yellow form right now, but there was still something awful and terrifying about her presence.   Even so, she looked very fragile to Mato's eyes.   Like a golden opportunity that would vanish one day without warning.  

"I gotta go," Luffa said as she laid the bowl down on the tray next to Mato's bed.    She tapped an earpiece that was tucked inside her left ear.    "My transport's almost here, and my wife'll kill me if they take me back to my ship looking like this."    

She turned slightly, as if preparing to leave, but then looked back at Mato's arms and legs, as though sizing him up for a fight.     "I hope I see you again, Mato.    It'll be nice to see how much stronger you get from all of this."  

"What about my stew?" Mato asked, only half-kidding.  

She looked down at the second bowl and smiled.   "The first one was free," she said.   "This one's a challenge.    It might be cold by the time you're ready, but I think you can make it."

With that, Luffa floated out of the room, leaving Mato alone with his thoughts.