Donning Indigo part 3
@agirlnameded So, I finally got more of this typed up. Woo!
Half a year and he’s forgotten what it’s like to wear shoes. It’s a strangely easy thing to forget considering he’s worn them most of his life, more than thirty years now, but he has. He’d called some up one day, boots like he used to wear all the time. It had been, well, uncomfortable, in a word. The ring ensures that they’re a perfect fit, but still they feel confining. He takes only a few steps before dismissing them, and it’s an almost instant relief to feel the stone floor of his room smooth beneath his feet again. The various textures of the ground have become a part of his life – the different types of stone that make up the main headquarters, the rough bark, spongy vegetation, and rich earth that comprise much of the world the Tribe lives on… Raditz doesn’t know its name or exact location, but it’s lush and vaguely tropical, all towering tree-like things and thriving teal plant-life from what he’s seen thus far, full, appropriately enough, of indigo shadows.
His initial concept of the planet turns out to be not entirely accurate. About a third of the planet’s lands are lush and fertile; the rest is desolate and barren, and something in Raditz’s chest twangs painfully when Janven first shows it to him.
“This isn’t natural,” he says quietly, gripping his staff tight, “I’ve seen dozens of planets and this- it isn’t the result of natural causes.”
“No,” Janven agrees, somber, “This planet was ravaged long ago, and was eventually abandoned by its inhabitants, left to suffer on its own. This is why we live here.”
“What, as a reminder or something?”
“No,” Janven crooks a smile, “This planet is a strong one, even in its pain. We help it to heal. Starting today, you will join this task.”
Raditz expects to be set to planting seeds or something, a task he is honestly not looking forward to. Because while he’s no Burter, Raditz is still extremely tall, and crouching down close to the ground for extended periods is awkward and uncomfortable for him. Not to mention the fact that doing this means his hair will drag along in the loose dirt and get filthy (and the rest of the rank and file might have joked about his bathing habits, but Raditz has always been a very fastidious creature, as most saiyans are – a direct result of having such a good sense of smell). He could tie it back, of course, but he hates doing that – it’s awkward and uncomfortable and he doesn’t like how it looks.
So it’s a relief when he is informed that that’s not what he’ll be doing after all. Instead, he is set to work helping to protect the younger, less sturdy plant growth during harsh storms that roll in off the barrens, which gives him the double opportunity to practice with his constructs (shields and armor still come most naturally to him). It’s kind of amazing, standing alongside other members of the Tribe and realizing that they’re basically holding off a raging sandstorm with their emotions.
He also goes out with crews into the barrens to work at making them more hospitable from that side as well, encouraging and nurturing what plant life is already growing there, clearing out certain types of debris, finding water that has sunk below the ground and bringing it back to the surface. Raditz is actually quite useful for this last one, him and his sharp nose. Vegetasei was a desert planet, the majority of its water hidden in freshwater oceans deep beneath the surface. Saiyans, as a result, are very good at scenting water, even if it’s buried deep.
Digging said water out means he still winds up getting filthy as often as not, but it’s more tolerable than if he was doing so by creeping along the ground. And there’s something satisfying about following a moisture-laden breeze and finding a pocket of growth around it, breaking apart the hard earth so that it’s easier for the plant life to grow there and forming a windbreak around it with rocks so that the topsoil doesn’t just blow away in the next storm.
“There is more than one way to nurture, to encourage healing and end suffering,” Janven says when they discuss it one evening, the Tortellian just back from a brief off-world assignment, “So we try to play to our strengths; if we could all do everything, there would be no need to work together.”
Raditz snorts, then grins at them. “For once you’re talking sense. That’s exactly why we had squads in the-” he stops abruptly, blanching. The pasts of various Tribe members tend to be a taboo subject from what he understands, and generally it hasn’t been hard to avoid bringing it up in regards to others or himself. With this bitten-off sentence, however, the unspoken words seem to start flooding to his tongue, and it’s all he can do to hold them back.
Janven gives him a shrewd look, then turns to stare into the distance. “You know, before I donned my ring, I was a space pirate. I stole from anyone who crossed my path – it was a game to me. Other beings were the pieces or occasionally an opponent, money was a way of keeping score. And by god, I was winning!” they chuckle, a bitter note to it, “I have no idea how many lives I ruined with my ‘games,’ how many deaths I caused. Not to say there weren’t plenty I was very aware and very much the direct cause of. It can be a little difficult for me to work off-planet because of this – my face and name are well-known and naturally untrusted. To be in the Indigo Tribe is to be tolerated, but not always to be liked or wanted, you know? And the Green Lanterns are not so fond of us.”
“The law enforcement doesn’t like the idea of a bunch of criminals running around with minimal supervision? Colour me stunned,” Raditz deadpans, grinning when Janven laughs before going somber again. “I thought we weren’t supposed to talk about our pasts.”
Janven shakes their head. “No, there is no such rule. Most of us simply choose not to. It is not so comfortable a place to dwell, once compassion has taken root. If you wish to speak, speak.”
Raditz is quiet for a long moment. Then it all spills out, the things he’s been holding back, that he hadn’t wanted to admit, even to himself. Because he was a monster and had only been getting worse over time, and he doesn’t exactly want to go back to what he had and was before, but… he misses it, parts of it. People he hadn’t realized he thought of as friends. A certain level of humour that was in terrible taste even then, but, well, sometimes his sense of humour is terrible. Working on and with machines in his spare time, because it’s always been fascinating to see how they fit together, even if it’s not appropriate for a soldier to have hobbies like that. The various space stations and barracks, all pretty much interchangeable but still familiar, the places he grew up, home in a way.
And- and he’s not sure, okay? If the ring were removed from his finger and opportunity presented itself, he’s not sure he wouldn’t go running straight back and beg to be taken in again, even if he can’t be a soldier anymore, even if his time here has ruined him for that work (which he’s pretty sure it has) and he has to join the Dregs – maintenance, cleaning, medical, mechanical, the lowest level of Frieza’s forces – if only because it’s familiar and life in the Indigo Tribe seems to consist of constantly having to reassess how he sees the universe and it’s exhausting and terrifying and he keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, because what he’s been offered is kindness and support and- and compassion, and he doesn’t deserve it, and he hates not understanding, he should be locked in a cell somewhere, not… this.
His face is wet again by the time he finishes, and he hates it, hates how easily the tears come these days, but he also feels… better, oddly enough.
Janven sits next to him quietly until Raditz’s breathing is steadier. “If we had placed you in a cell when you first came, you would have learned nothing. If we placed you in a cell now, it would accomplish nothing. But outside a cell, as you are now, you can begin to atone. Alone we helped to make the universe a more broken place. Together, we work to make it more whole.”
“Did you work alone before?” Raditz asks.
Janven shakes their head. “I had a crew. Terrible people, but excellent pirates. …they would be ashamed to see me now.”
“Sorry,” Raditz says, and it’s a word that tastes far more sincere in his mouth these days than it used to.
“Thank-you,” they twirl their staff between their fingers, “It is- perhaps I am waxing Blue Corps, but I hope they are doing well. We were all taken by the Green Lanterns and, of all of us, only I was deemed bad enough to warrant an intervention by the Tribe. I don’t know what motivates the council to bring some people to the Tribe and leave others to the Green Corp and other forms of law, but I like to think it is an indication that those not taken might still find this path themselves. Perhaps they are becoming better without my leadership.”
“My squad’s probably screwed,” Raditz admits, “Vegeta and Nappa were both always stronger and better than me. Hell, Vegeta’s planning to overthrow Frieza one day. The only reason we probably weren’t all inducted into the Tribe years ago is that Cold territory is too far from Lantern space.”
“The size of the universe does make things rather difficult at times,” Janven agrees ruefully, “Still, is there no law enforcement in that area?”
“Well, there’s the Galactic Patrole.”
“Are they any good?”
“They turn funny colours when you ignore them…”
This earns him a shove and a laugh. Raditz starts asking more questions after this, as opposed to simply assuming things, and a new level of ease is achieved with other members of the Tribe.
“What’s that language you use sometimes?” he asks one day, “The one the oath’s in. You’ve said the rings act as universal translators, but mine doesn’t work on that one.”
“It is the language of the Indigo Tribe,” Janven explains, “And it is… a little unusual. You will be able to comprehend and speak it when you are ready.”
“When’s that?”
A shrug. “I am led to understand that it differs for everyone.”
Raditz gives his friend a baleful look. “That’s so helpful.”
Janven tugs Raditz’s hair lightly (something the Tortellian gets away with only because they are friends), “Not all answers are easy or straightforward.”
Raditz grumbles for a bit but accepts this.
OoOoOoOoO
Sometimes at night Raditz lies on his pallet and stares at the ring. It’s such a strange, contrary thing – so small, but the source of so much power. It’s caused him a lot of pain, but also allows him a lot of freedom. Simply wearing it is an indisputable sign of what side he’s on and where his alliances lie – any system familiar with the Lanterns will leave him alone (as opposed to, say, arresting him, which they would do if they learned his history, no matter what his lifestyle or world view now). So, in a very real way, the ring protects him. On the flipside, backsliding is not an option. Any attempt to ignore another’s suffering when he could ease it results in the situation being flung in his face with painful levels of clarity. He can no longer turn a blind eye.
He twists the ring around his finger with his thumb, watching its light dim and brighten as the face revolves away from him and back again. He can’t get it over his second knuckle, but he can slide it back and forth on that first segment of finger easily enough, though only when he’s messing around like now – when he’s working or actively using it, the ring sits snug at the base of his finger. And it’s never too tight, never uncomfortable (really, it’s pretty considerate for a piece of jewelry).
Turning slightly onto his side, he thinks about what he’s said to Janven, about potentially returning to the Planet Trade if he could, and he wonders if he really would. It’s a moot point, he doesn’t have a choice – he can’t get the ring off. Only Indigos who are ‘called’ can remove their rings, after all. Maybe a Lantern of some other colour could get it off – Blues can remove Red rings, after all, an act that is lethal for the Red Lantern in any other circumstances. He doesn’t know. It doesn’t matter – he wasn’t called, he was brought, inducted. This is his life now, whether he wants it or not.
It doesn’t matter either way, really. Even if he could or had gone back to the Planet Trade, he- (close your eyes and think it, Raditz, it’s been a year) –he wouldn’t have seen Kakarrot again. Even if his brother had survived those wounds – unlikely with the level of medical tech FX-50 probably had – Vegeta and Nappa would have killed him when they came to finish the job and maybe see if those wish-granting things were real. The thought stings. It- things weren’t supposed to turn out like this. Years of searching, of wondering, and he’d finally found his brother. It was supposed to be different. Good. He’d been so excited. Maybe he hadn’t been compassionate by any definition, but he hadn’t been entirely shut down on an emotional level. It was supposed to be a happy day, a good day. A reunion.
Instead…
He clenches his fist, ring curled inside even as he rolls fully onto his side and curls in on himself. What he nearly did- what he actually did- He caused so much pain. And FX-50… it’s located right on the edge of Cold territory, no one really cares about it. Sure it’s a valuable little thing – certain people will pay dearly for that type of climatic variation, let alone the continental diversity – but it’s so far out of the way that almost no one would be interested. Hell, that’s why an infant was sent to clear it! If Raditz hadn’t been so- They probably could have lived their whole lives there, his brother, his nephew, safe, undisturbed, a far more peaceful, gentle end to the saiyan race than anyone could ever have expected.
Instead, Raditz had damned them to the same violent ending the rest of his race had met, that- that he alone might escape. Janven has told him that Indigo Tribe members often lead long lives – their rings won’t let them escape their sentence lightly.
He deactivates what portions of the ring he can, dismissing his uniform to be left in the basic tunic he’d discovered his armor had been replaced with the first time he did this (he doesn’t know what happened to it and honestly doesn’t care – it was badly damaged, and part of a life that no longer exists). He doesn’t deserve this life, doesn’t deserve this chance to atone…
His eyes snap open and he sits up. These thoughts, they’re nothing new – he’s had them so many times, but, well… they don’t really help, do they? Maybe he deserves the pain they bring, but… his suffering like this doesn’t exactly help ease anyone else’s suffering, does it? It might be a bit gratifying for Kakarrot and his family if they knew, but they don’t. Compassion is about recognizing suffering, enacting compassion is about easing said suffering. Raditz is meant to be atoning – but no one ever said it had to hurt, that he had to hate it, or himself. Hell, thinking about it, he’s learned faster and worked better on the occasions he was enjoying himself than the ones when he was beating himself up.
A year Raditz has spent hating himself, but he’s supposed to be easing pain, not encouraging it. Maybe- maybe that includes himself as well. Not an absolution of his guilt, no, but he doesn’t need to wallow in it. He doesn’t deserve this life, but the fact remains that he’s been given it, and he’s spent his first thirty-odd years breaking the universe – time to see how much he can fix in what’s left to him. And that’s a good, what, forty years? Maybe fifty? If he doesn’t get himself killed?
…he doesn’t actually know what the average natural lifespan for a saiyan is, okay? In his defense, he’s never heard of a saiyan dying of natural causes – they could have limited immortality for all he knows. The point is, he’s going to use however long he has better than he spent his previous life.
He closes his eyes again and settles down to sleep.
But he reactivates his ring before he does.
“Nok,” Janven says to him the next morning, the customary greeting within the Tribe for most occasions. Except Raditz doesn’t just hear ‘nok’ this time, he also hears the meaning behind it.
‘Compassion be with you.’
Raditz blinks and blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. “You get all that into one syllable?!”
Janven stares at him, then grins, bright and pleased. “You understood!”
Raditz opens his mouth to reply, closes it when what he’s just said really sinks in, then grins back, a touch shy and unjustifiably pleased with himself. “Yeah, I did. Guess I was ready.”
OoOoOoOoO
Credit to @fullbattleregalia for the ‘and by gods I was winning’ line, thanks again for that!
Raditz doesn’t know what’s going on back on Earth and, given the facts as he knows them, he’s under the impression that the planet’s been cleared by this point. He’s going to be very surprised (and pleased) when he eventually goes back.