The planet was a somber world, its once-bustling cities now nothing more than piles of smoldering rubble. The air was thick with acrid smoke, carrying the scent of burnt metal and melting structures. Grit and ash swirled in the atmosphere, obscuring the sky's view. The planet's sun, a distant and pale orb, cast feeble rays of light through the haze. They struggled to pierce the thick, gray clouds of pollution that hung ominously over the destroyed landscape. These rays, once a source of warmth and life, were now feeble reminders of a planet's former glory.
In the distance, a slow, mournful wind whistled through the skeletal remains of buildings. It was an eerie and haunting sound, as if the planet itself lamented its own demise. The occasional creaks and groans of fractured structures added to the eerie symphony, like ghosts of the past murmuring in lament. The ground beneath their feet was uneven and unstable, with deep chasms that seemed to lead into the very bowels of the wounded planet. These were the scars of a merciless onslaught, etched by energy blasts that had shattered the planet. Even the soil bore the signs of suffering, turned to ash in some places, stained by the deep red hue of smoldering ruins in others. The planet's flora, once lush and vibrant, turned to dust.
The devastation was not only physical; it was emotional. The survivors moved about as if in a daze, their eyes vacant and haunted. There was no laughter, no joy. Fear and distraught had seeped into the very soul of the planet's inhabitants, a silent dread that lingered like a shadow.
But all wasn't doom and gloom as all over the city, a group of high-tech flying robots from the "Robotics Force" flew around with purpose. Their sleek, metallic bodies gleamed even in the ruins. These machines were sent on a test run to aid the planet in its recovery. The red drones were Attack Drones, equipped with advanced laser weaponry. It floated nearby, vigilant and ready to respond to any potential threat. Its crimson frame exuded an aura of intimidation.
The blue drone, an Assist Drone, went about coordinating the efforts of the Construction Force to help rebuild. It used its energy-sharing abilities to help them keep their strengths and tire less easily. The green drone, known as a Recovery Drone, worked diligently to mend the wounded. Its soft, verdant glow emitted both healing and hope. It hovered over the wounded, beaming restorative energy that accelerated the natural healing of the injured and even healed lost biomass like missing limbs and organs.
The Robotics Force had programmed these machines to be efficient and, perhaps most importantly, to ensure the safety of all involved. They knew to avoid direct contact with enemy combatants, their tasks perfectly suited to work from a distance. The Attack Drone kept potential dangers at bay, the Assist Drone helped aid those who needed it, and the Recovery Drone offered healing.
"Why did Lord Frieza have to task us with this pirate business?" Abo complained, crossing his arms with a frown on his face.
"I'd rather deal with the Rebels resisting the PTO's rule than wasting my time chasing pirates. At least most of those guys don't have spaceships to fly planet to planet with." Kado agreed with a nod.
"Executive Abo, Executive Kado, this was the last planet attacked by the pirate crew. We haven't received any reports of another planet being attacked by pirates at this time. Please standby until we receive news of their location." Mission Control said into their scouters.
"Yeah, yeah..." Abo leaned up against one of the destroyed buildings.
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"Maybe we should've gone in for Super-Elite training too, just like the Ginyu Force. Then maybe we could've avoided this mission." Kado suggested.
"Yeah, good luck with that." Abo scoffed. "No way in Hell am I training with the guy that had a hand in training the Crusher Force. That's a one-way ticket to Hell while being alive!"
"Damned if we do, damned if we don't." Kado chuckled with resignation.
"Excuse me... Do you two work for Lord Turles?" A young child came over to them.
With tousled, unruly hair that seemed to have never met a comb, they carried an air of perpetual disarray. Their beady, coal-black eyes, sharp and vigilant, appeared as tiny obsidian beads set against the backdrop of their sun-kissed skin. This child boasted a lean, wiry frame. They were dressed in a motley assortment of ragged, tattered clothing. It was as though their attire had been assembled haphazardly from the remnants of various fabrics. Beneath the frayed cuffs of their trousers, their feet were left bare and calloused.
"We work for Lord Frieza, but I guess you could say we work with Lord Turles. What do you want, kid? You got information on the pirates?" Abo responded.
"I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for watching over us. The Planet Trade Organization has helped a lot of us, and if it wasn't for the heroes stationed here, I'm not sure if any of us could've survived at all… When I grow up, I want to become heroes just like you guys." The kid ran off after that.
Abo and Kado slowly turned toward each other. "Am I dreaming right now?" Kado asked his brother. "Just because we're brothers doesn't mean we dream the same thing," Abo replied. "Then, can you explain what the hell I just heard?" Kado asked. "Things aren't the same anymore after Lord Turles took over." Abo sighed.
"Apparently, we're good guys now that we don't take over planets and sell them anymore." Abo continued. "So, we're like the Galactic Patrol now?" Kado asked in disgust.
"Enforcers of the Universe… Sounds kind of cool when you put it like that, right?" Abo asked. "Is that what they're calling us?" Kado questioned. "Those are just some names I saw on The Hub," Abo answered.
Abo and Kado were soon given thanks and gifts by plenty of other survivors from the pirate raid on their planet. Eventually, it got to the point where they couldn't even carry the number of things given to them. Both brothers got fed up with being looked at with the sparkling idolizing eyes of the survivors and couldn't help but shout at them. "Why the hell are you idiots giving us stuff!? Look around you! You think we need help as elites in the Planet Trade Organization?!" Abo shouted. "Take all this stuff back and use it to help yourselves! Do you see yourselves right now? On the verge of annihilation, and your first instinct is to give away your stuff?!" Kado yelled alongside his brother.
The survivors of planet Yomni felt a little silly after being lectured by the elite soldiers of the PTO. They took back the gifts they wanted to thank them with one by one. Eventually, Abo and Kado also got fed up with being stared at while they did nothing but stand around. They started to help the Construction Force with the rebuilding process. After seeing them pull their weight, some of the planet's inhabitants also helped. Abo and Kado were asked question after question, which was really eating them on the inside. Was this what it was like to be admired instead of feared?
"How is it like working in the PTO?" A grateful, elderly citizen asked.
"Can I get as strong as you when I grow up?" A young and impressionable child, eyes wide with wonder, asked.
"How can I sign up to be employed in the PTO?" An eager young adult filled with dreams of joining the PTO. They were dressed in casual attire, yet their eyes reflected a deep longing for adventure and heroism.
"How many people do you save every day?" A group of kids asked.
"Can you tell us stories about being defenders of the universe?" A group of older kids asked.
This wasn't so bad, even if it was kind of annoying! Abo and Kado laughed as they took in their newfound status within the universe in stride. Being adored over was awesome!