Prologue:
"This had better be worth it, Spect. What is it that could not
wait until morning?"
If his hands had been organic, they would have been trembling too
badly for him to read the report in his hands. The strain was in his
voice instead, and the calm steel tones of it bode poorly. His superior
took in the information, spent a few tense seconds just digesting it, and
after a moment of profound silence in that dark, smoky room, he exploded.
"What do you mean that they do not know? That is impossible! They
have among the largest network of agents in the underworld and in
cyberspace combined! Someone must know! They cannot all have been
eliminated! Not so quickly! Even for our agents, such a task would take
years!"
Metal eyes whirred. "Nevertheless, it is so. Everyone amongst the
Nameless, every last agent and bureaucrat, every leader and section sub-
chief, even two of the three GrandMasters - every single one who was
involved with the Facility and with the attempt on Nx-001 died last
night, all from varying types of strokes and heart attacks. At least
fifty of their highest agents and officials from the little we do know...
And you know how good their security is..."
"I see..." The spectacled man admired the exertion of control his
superior employed in calming himself. "This is most disturbing, Spect.
Most disturbing. You see it, do you not?"
The slender old man nodded. "A warning. The Nameless is...
was... the greatest house of assassins in the solar system. But it was
not the excellence of their individual killers that made them so, it was
the vast information network that their grandmasters developed, as well
as their vaunted impenetrability due to their telepaths... Not even we
were able to implant a mole in their net. Their agents remain, scores
and scores of them, but now the heads are gone... everyone who knew
anything of worth about their contract with us..."
"Indeed. It is a warning we cannot ignore. Until we can find out
how that feat was accomplished, no one from our organization is to act
against the targets in question. We cannot afford the possibility of a
retaliation of that scale upon our administrative staff... not until we
have a defense."
---
NFT Zu presents
The Three-Fold God's Path
A DragonBall Z fanfic
By
The Rain Man - formerly Don Juan
(Overseas Correspondent)
Episode 15: Dawn
---
The river of time flows on, unstoppable, unknowable in length,
width or depth.
He would start every time she'd make the slightest twitch, the slightest
flickering of an eyelid, unconsciously reaching out to touch her, and
just stopping short every time. The beaded perspiration on her skin
streamed down - every once in a while, she would tremble, and a faint
moaning would escape her lips. More closely, he watched the fluctuations
in her aura, spirit straining, reaching out to her and delicately feeling
the textures and colors, careful not to disturb her.
He blinked. The sun... her window was still open. He rose to
close the curtains.
"I... I'm still... a-live?" Her painful whisper sliced through his
fatigue, and he flew again to her side.
"Shh... You should sleep still. I recognized the symptoms... you
pushed your chi too far... You need to rest - recover your spirit." His
fingertips brushed lightly against her temples.
"Ahhh... th-then it **is** over..." she smiled, a terribly sad,
sad smile. She strained, trying to turn on her side away from him.
Still too weak... she berated herself. Her sheets stuck to her
uncomfortably, and their weight dragged at her limbs as though they were
chains, every point of contact like a needle pricking her skin...
"You..." She had never heard him speak so gently, so wistfully.
"You don't... you don't have to hide your tears from me." His fingers
held her shoulder down. "Please... rest."
"W-why... why must you always b-be... so d-damnedly nice?" With
effort, she turned her head away, continuing, "I d-don't... deserve
this..." she broke off, carefully wiping the side of her nose against her
pillow, concealing the trickle of warm redness there.
"I don't care... please, please don't talk so much... I know it
hurts, I've tried pushing past the limits of my own power before - I can
only imagine how much worse it is for you..."
Her shoulders heaved. "Goten... It's finished, I..."
"You can tell me about it when you're better! Mari, please... I'm
begging, okay?" His throat was closing up on itself again. "I'm begging
you... rest. You know I haven't cried since I was a little kid, this is
a relatively new thing for me, these on and off tears that can be
triggered by anything..." He chuckled hollowly. "It seems to be
happening a lot these days, you know? And sometimes there's this
throbbing pain in me, where, I don't know, but... you wouldn't make me
weep on purpose, would you? Please be nice and do what you're slave is
telling you..."
She laughed, faintly, abruptly cutting it off as she moaned. "O-
oh... d-don't make me laugh... It's making my head spin..."
He noticed the growing red spot, and turned her his way with a
light touch of his fingers against her chin as he took a soft piece of
cloth and cleaned away the thin, blood-tinged mucus on the side of her
face. Quietly, Goten spoke, "God, Mari... you're body will shut down if
you don't rest..." With extreme care, he probed with the edge of the
cloth, clearing the nasal passage a little.
She somehow found a last measure of strength...
Then her arms were somehow around his neck, and her hot hands were
pressing his head down towards her. Slowly, she brushed her lips along
each side of his face, following the tracks of his tears. "Sweet
Goten..." she closed her eyes as another dizzy spell struck her. "I..."
she grit her teeth, fighting the weakness. "I'll be fine... I p-
promise. I will get better... but first I have to tell you... It is
over. Everything. Th-there will be n-no more attacks... on Anju, or
Andrea."
He could barely breathe. "How?"
She smiled that deeply sorrowful smile once more. "...o-only
way... to end th-threat. E-erase the knowledge about th-the targe... -
gets... and about... m-me..." Her voice faded.
"You... erased? How..." he trembled. "How many?"
"One... hu-UH..." A fire seemed to explode at the base of her
skull, but she pressed on, concentrating, willing the pain away, making
her voice steady, "Hundred. One-hundred and twenty-nine... Had to make
sure... the only way." Her eyes locked intently on his, all trace of
enfeeblement gone as they silently asked of him understanding.
"I suppose," he breathed, "that it was the only thing you could
do."
"But you don't forgive it, or understand why it was necessary..."
Her eyes began to water, and she cursed her lack of control.
"I... I do understand, I think." And that was the truth. But he
could not hide how this disturbed him, how he kept seeing her strike with
that lethal move. Life was the most precious thing in all the universe,
life was what he fought for, it was what he believed gave him and his
kind purpose... And a compromise with death... was something he was not
sure he could deal with.
Suddenly, she was crushing his hands in hers as she gasped weakly,
"I'm sorry." holding on as though he were the one thing left to tie her
world together. Haru... "O-only thee..."
It broke the spell, and then he was not holding a vision of death
in his arms, but Mari, just Mari, a college student whom he had gone
camping with, and crammed with for a few crazy days and nights. The same
Mari whose conversation he craved, whose sometimes low and sultry voice
could excite his thundering heart like nothing else, whose passionate
hunger for life made her larger than life - and nothing else mattered, he
told himself savagely. They stayed that way for a while, in silent
embrace, letting the frightening depth of the emotions they shared wash
over them, and listening to the leaves rustle in the morning breeze.
She drifted back to sleep, and was so very, very, frighteningly
light in his arms as he softly lowered her back to the bed.
---
Slowly, almost painfully, she opened her eyes.
"Hey, sleepy-head. Feel okay? Need something to drink?" a warm
voice accompanied the smiling eyes she saw. She nodded, the raw,
sandpaper feeling in her throat compounding the foul taste left by the
combination of drugs she had begun to take in anticipation of the
operations. The movement helped her to notice the heavy pressure that
seemed to clamp down on the muscles along her back, neck and shoulders.
She shrugged. She had felt far worse on the occasions that she had been
injured before, in the training sessions in the darkness.
She took slow, careful sips from the glass held to her lips, and as
she came more to herself, she held it in her own hands, and grimaced as
she put it to one side. "You were not at the party. What happened?"
The woman sat, facing away. "I was... tying up loose ends."
"You are not telling me something... Andrea, what happened on
Friday? Did Yamcha do something?"
"Ah... N-no... It's just that." No, no. No more crying. This
is not me... but... Damn him. Why did it have to be like this? "Anju,
Arien... passed away on Friday." She bit back the bitterness.
Her eyes snapped wide. "Wh-what? But... he was stable!"
"For a moment, his chi flared up again, Gohan thought it was a last
burst as he started to fade... and he just... deteriorated from there."
She controlled herself. No shaking. No weakness, she thought.
"But... that can't be! I... You... There was so much I needed
to ask him about! The Facility, my implants, my connection to him,
everything!" Anju struggled upright, ignoring the sharp sensations that
started racing along her back. "He can't be gone! I'm sure I'd have
felt it somehow... I..."
"You are supposed to stay in bed all day to day, young lady." But
there was no force behind the words...
She grit her teeth as she stood, throwing the blankets aside. "Are
you going to help me find my clothes, or am I going to have to break out
into the streets dressed in this hospital gown with my butt exposed to
the world?"
---
Trunks sighed. "Well... wait, let me explain!"
A tremendous, monstrous beep intruded.
"Just a minute, I'll get back to you..." Beep. "Yes? Hello? My
mother? Ah... can't I... this... An emergency?" He sighed, more
glumly this time. "Hai. Please hold on." Beep. "Look, there is a long
distance call for my mother, and it's an emergency, and... look, I'll
call you back, okay? What? No, please, wait, I..." Click.
He stared at the phone in his hand for a few moments, cursing at
himself for using the home line rather than his personal one. "'Kaasan!
Phone! It's the representative from the Mars licensing company!"
A muffled yell came from a distant corner of the mansion, "Got
it!"
He put the cordless back on its base, and pulled his portable out
of his back pocket, cursing as he did so. "I should have just used this!
I don't know what's wrong with me today!" Pulling open the two thin,
crystalline flaps for his ear and mouth, he held the delicate-looking
assembly carefully and punched one of the speed-dial keys.
"Come on Ami, answer, please... Mina? Hi, is... She's not there?
Do you know where she might have called me from? Oh... Okay... No
idea, huh? Well... Thanks... Bye. Oh, damn it..." He murmured, sadly
as he closed up the phone and put it away. "Bad timing, it seems... Why
does this seem to happen so much these days?"
---
His apartment had been quite a surprise. It was... small for one
thing. And neat. Orderly in a way that was meticulous and almost...
almost feminine, she thought. Everything was arranged nicely, his bed
was made, his books all arranged alphabetically along three huge
bookshelves and cabinets that occupied much of the studio, and the color
scheme to the whole place was in soothing pastel blues. Of course, there
was also the gigantic portrait of her that was hanging on one of the
walls...
"Done with the phone?"
"Yes, thanks, Yuu."
The spectacle of those big, beefy hands methodically filling and
packing a picnic basket with foodstuffs was oddly entrancing. They were
so large that the big roast beef sandwiches he had just finished making
looked like finger-snacks while he was holding them. The six-packs of
Pocari Sweat that he put inside looked child-sized as he put them inside.
Now that she thought about it, nearly everything looked small near him,
except for the picnic basket itself, a nearly gigantic affair that seemed
to be scaled up specifically for people of his size.
She sighed.
"Art troubled, Fair Ami?" he rumbled.
"No... Ah... well, not really." She smiled wanly.
"I have noticed that when you use 'not really,' you are usually
denying something. What troubles you on this fine day, my dear? Look,
the sun is bright, and there is not even a cloud in the sky - the weather
is perfect, and it is just for our day together! Why waste the moment?"
he smiled.
His smiles always confused her, she realized. At first, all she'd
noticed was the supreme arrogance that seemed to radiate from him when he
did, but there was more somehow. She could not put her finger on it. In
some ways, he was like Nik from long ago...
"Admiring my perfect features? Ah, I knew you would come around!"
A shockingly wide grin.
... And in some ways, not at all. She shook her head a little.
"Where are we going again?"
"To a little piece of heaven that I found by accident when I was
training a few years ago. As small and dear and intimate as a hidden
corner of your heart, or of your dreams - it is merely a gateway to
fantasy! Its walls are decorated with jewels of fire and it is roofed
with a rainbow mirrored to perfection in the still waters beneath it!
Come now, at least allow me to surprise you a little. Trust me. It is
not so unpleasant an act as you might think. You needn't be quite so
nervous. I know that it was only at Mari's insistence that you did
eventually agree to this... Just relax. You may surprise yourself by
even enjoying it!" He finally closed up the basket, and she wondered
just how heavy the whole thing was. "Did you bring your violin?"
"Anh... Yes... Why?"
"Because, my dear, that is a large part of why where we are going
is a fragment of heaven fallen to the earth! It is quite important, you
see, that you have your violin and I my flute, and... well, best not to
give away too much quite yet!" He grinned as he casually stood, and
picked up the basket.
---
"Bwahahahaha! Spawn of Satan! Prepare to face the righteous fury
of..."
"You have reached the Son residence. We are currently on a
vacation of indeterminate length right now, in a place without phones or
lines of communication. If it is an emergency, someone who can reach us
is Bulma. One of her office numbers is..."
"AAAARGH!" The thick-wristed man nearly smashed the pay phone in.
"Neil! They're not here!"
"Um... Really?"
"AAAARGH! All our meticulous preparations wasted! All the
mentally traumatizing experiences I'd planned for the SatanSpawn, all the
fear I meant to instill by means of initially calling her up in a
fearsome voice from a pay phone while watching her through her windows in
perfect thriller-movie-esque execution... Nyeaaarrrgh!"
"Well, ah. We could go after Mr. Satan directly, you kno-"
The bigger man shouted, "But of course, we shall go after Satan
himself directly instead! The daughter would have been a dramatically
appropriate touch, but I shall have to make do! Nothing, nothing can
stop me NOW, bwahahahahAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Neil sighed. "Aye, sir." This, he thought, is taking longer than
I expected. I shall have to speed up my plans...
---
The wiry man stared intently into the mirror. "Good morning,
Kasama Mikeru. I see you are looking... better than you should. How I
hate this face of yours... or not yours, considering the circumstances."
"Talking to yourself is the prelude to mental instability, you
know."
A dry, technical voice.
"The Mikeru mocks himself! But do you see the madness in your
eyes, Mikeru?"
I understand German now?
"Alas for the Mikeru, he seems nearly an Elric!"
Overwhelming! So many... Too many! They howl!
"But where am I, really? You can't mean to say that I'm a man,
now! I was a servant girl to the Queen..."
"I was a slave, beaten to death for helping another to escape in
the time of Ramses..." "I am John Daker... an English painter from the
twentieth century... Jean-Jacques... Peter Petrovic... Listen, I am the
King of Spain, I order you to... Listen to us! Please! No, don't look
away! We can help you! Iyouwethoutheeonenotnothingevermore-"
"Silence!"
The glass shatters, but his fingers do not bleed.
"I am one! I am only one!"
He shook as he clutched at his eyes, curled up on the marble floor of his
bathroom.
"Do the memories trouble you?"
"You know they do... They clamor and howl, they long to live and
breathe and taste again, and would dominate this body if they could..."
he moaned.
"They cannot. Your soul is too strongly rooted where it is.
Still, it would not be difficult for them to drive you mad. You have no
choice, do you? If you would master the Power, you must master Them.
They are now as much a part of you as your own memories, now that you
have unlocked them."
Slowly he stood, taking deep, even breaths. "I should go to the
library... I have homework... So odd, so odd..." he murmured in an old
voice, "to be doing homework again..."
---
"Sir? I think you should look at this. There's something on the
scope..."
"That's probably just the next merchant vessel from the lunar
colonies..."
"But sir... There are too many signals... and the computer plots
that the trajectory of that group of signals is from beyond the outer
periphery colonies at the edge of the solar system..."
"Really?" A grizzled old whipcord of a man bent over the younger
one's shoulder, double-checking the calculations. "Looks like some
aliens dropping by. It's been a while since we've had aliens... Open
hailing frequencies."
"Uh... sir?"
"You heard what I said. And inform the other space stations about
Mars - send a tight-beam tachyon transmission to Earth."
"Opening hailing frequencies..."
"Greetings to the approaching fleet! As was agreed upon at the
Titan Convention held five years ago with representatives from the
Federation of Space-Faring Traders, we welcome you to our solar system
and hope that you have a fruitful, and profitable visit while you are
here... Perhaps you would like to open negotiations for the current
interstellar tariffs? While the Mars population is nowhere near as large
as that of the Earth or Moon, the industrial centers of Mars produce a
great many valuable goods from minerals difficult to synthesize and that
are present in great abundance here, allowing us to sell for less... We
also offer a tourist package for a mere thousan-"
"They aren't acknowledging us, sir."
"Strange, they're broadcasting traders' ID signals..."
"Sir, there's a second group of signals right behind the first -
they're opening fire!"
The old man dropped his pipe, and in the ensuing panic, it was
crushed under heel.
"Red alert, send distress signals to the rest of the relay
stations... Get the defenses online!"
"Too late!"
Everything disappeared in a haze of red-washed light.
---
"Gohan, what is it?"
He was staring up into the sky. "I... feel something out
there..." He shook his head.
"Ahhh... No, no, no!" She grabbed his ankle, just barely managing
to keep him from taking off. "Remember, you are here to relax, and
forget! Let the others handle it. It's nothing major, right? Look
around you - peaceful lake, nice mountains, not a soul (other than me)
around for hundreds of miles! Look at me. So you're not going to go out
there and get yourself hurt while you're too distracted to properly
defend yourself and your chi is all lopsided and your concentration is
shot! Okay?"
"I..." he hesitated, "I guess so. You're right, I suppose.
Anyway, it doesn't feel too strong..."
But he kept on glancing at the sky for half an hour after that.
---
The double doors burst open. "Vegita-sama, the traders..."
Slowly, almost lazily, one eye twitched open. He tapped a finger
on his desk. "I know. An attack."
"The outer militia informs us that the combatants are two huge
fleets of alien ships, and that the Mars bases are being caught in the
crossfire!" The broad-shouldered figure clenched his fists helplessly.
"What can we do? Our merchant vessels are heading right for them, and
they don't have enough fuel to initiate the necessary course corrections
while still being able to safely land! That's billions of credits in
goods that we are going to lose! I knew we staked too much on those
shipments, we're going to lose billions upon billions!"
"What do the ships look like?" his superior drawled almost
sleepily.
"One side is composed of silvery-blue ships, the other side's ships
have... well, it's described as... um, something like tiger stripes,
sir... Vegita-sama, what do we do! That shipment of ours might very
well bankrupt us if it gets destroyed! Not so much because of the value
of the shipment itself, but because of the incredibly huge penalty clause
if we fail to deliver!"
The smaller man seemed to wake up at the description of the ships.
"Calm yourself, Takashi." Vegita lifted himself out of his massive
armchair with a majestic air, looking out at the vast city sprawling
beneath his offices. "Outfit one of our several hundred-G acceleration
courier ships with long-range communicators. The fastest one. I think
it would be best to use my wife's prototype. In this situation, I must
intervene directly if the cargo is to be saved - and that intervention
will take a great deal of speed."
Takashi's eyes widened. "Veggie, old bud, are you NUTS? The cargo
is not worth that much! Those couriers are remote-operated and are
designed only to carry messages! A human passenger would become a bloody
pulp from the acceleration!"
Vegita scowled, arching an eyebrow. "You question my commands?
Just do it! Besides," he sneered, "I always told you that I was not
human. Relax, Takashi. It's just a bunch of idiot punks with big guns
on their ships trying to look impressive. Inform Bulma that I will be
late for dinner."
Takashi was about to say more, but caught the excited glint in his
boss's eye, and sighed. He had seen that look before, heard the coldness
of that hard voice.
The doors shut.
Vegita walked up to a large, old cabinet beside the single, huge
window, and carefully, almost reverently opened the paneled doors. "It
has been a long time since I've used this..." The white body armor seemed
to glow in the morning light. "Bulma does good work... I almost can't
tell that this isn't my original armor..." he murmured thoughtfully as he
ran a finger along one of the heavy plates. "I wonder if the K'ierani
still recognize the royal armor of Vegitasei? In any case... it will be
an interesting battle!" he smiled a smile he hadn't felt like smiling for
a very long time as Saiyajin adrenaline began to course through his
blood.
He briefly contemplated asking Trunks to join him. "Bah. I'll
handle this myself. I never get to do anything fun these days,
anyway..."
---
"Oh!"
She cursed quietly as she limped a few steps back. It would have
been pitch black if not for the faint light radiating from her
companion's upraised hand.
"Watch your step. It's a little slippery in here... Okay, move a
foot back and turn ten degrees to the left. Perfect! Here's your
violin..." She felt it and the bow being thrust into her hands, and
gingerly took them while trying to keep her balance despite the
precarious footing.
"Yuu, I'm not sure that I..."
"Shh... Okay, you memorized that piece I showed to you, right?"
She sighed. "Yes, I memorized it."
"Okay, on three. One, two, three..."
Reluctantly, she started to play, and as her fingers skipped
delicately across the strings and her bow slid across them, a low,
mournful sound stretched out from the violin. As that lonely voice began
to grow, the sadly wistful, piercing notes of a flute began to accompany
it. She gasped. "Oh! It's... How..."
Yuu only continued, and chastened, she did so as well. They held
that pose for so fleetingly short a time, it seemed, as the voices of
flute and violin dipped and soared about each other in a softly sorrowful
song that seemed to go on forever even as they rose higher and higher.
When they finished, the music continued on. Yuu's face was flushed, as
though he'd been in a difficult battle. His smile seemed easier though,
and he grinned at the expression of awe on her face. "It's pretty, is it
not?"
She nodded wordlessly as she stared about her.
"It's the minerals in the walls. They absorb certain frequencies
of sound, and as they vibrate, synchronizing with the sounds, they
fluoresce - the colors depend on the sounds. Did I not tell you, Ami? A
roof of rainbows! It's heaven's gate, and the key is music!"
It was that and more. Colors she couldn't begin to describe danced
everywhere along the crystalline walls - lights trapped in shimmering
glass that still echoed their music over and over. That endless,
wandering perfection mirrored in a perfectly still pool of water at the
center. She found her voice, whispering, "How did you find this place?"
"I read about it in my uncle Taki's notes. It took me a long time
to find it! Apollo's Atrium - the secret room built by my great-grand-
uncle Kyosuke as a gift for his mistress, the lady M!" His eyes shone in
that fantastic bath of light.
"Kyosuke? The Yo Kyosuke who's supposed to be one of the greatest
composers of the millenium?"
"Don't I have kewl relatives?" His hands ran along one of the
walls longingly. His normally loud voice was hushed as he continued,
"this place was lost for decades! I stumbled upon it by pure luck! The
ground this temple is built on used to be owned by my family before it
was foolishly sold off. But I will buy it back someday from the
government." His eyes roved along, following the course of one
particularly bright flake of azure that moved sinuously across the roof.
He shook his head slightly. "Are not the secrets buried beneath the
bones of old temples lost and gone to everyone's memories sometimes worth
keeping? Ahh, to think this could have been lost forever..."
"But I have been lax as a host! Here, have a seat..." He produced
a waterproof blanket from the basket, and spread it out by the reflecting
pool.
Gingerly, she sat cross-legged on the cool, dry surface, watching
the play of the lights on Yuu's face as he started bringing out their
lunch. "The lights and the music will go on for perhaps forty minutes
more - just enough time for lunch! What would you like, dearest Ami? We
have cold chicken, cold ham, roast beef sandwiches in self-heating
containers, potted-meat-and-crackers-pickles-kimchi-chicken-salad-
croissant-wiches-with-mayo-mushroomburgers-egg-salad-taco-salad-chili-
cheese-and-bean-burritos-stuffed-peppers-candied-pears-jam-and-toasted-
bread-coffee-apples-cherries-"
She waved him silent, smiling, "Too much! Too much! It must have
taken you hours to prepare all this! What time did you wake up this
morning?"
"Rather late, actually - I just work fast! Martial arts cooking
techniques, don't you know..."
"I'll try one of your fabled mushroomburgers..."
"Of course!" He said, automatically pulling out one of many
numerous packages and holding it out to her. As she took it from him,
his hard, callused fingers brushed against her hand, softly. "I, err...
umm... hope you're having a nice time..." He seemed suddenly smaller as
he glanced down at the spread of food before them, and started wolfing
down large quantities of it.
Slowly, she shook her head as she again looked around at the colors
around her. "I am... Yuu-kun. I am..." She relaxed against the blanket
as it warmed against them, and stretched out a little more comfortably as
she tentatively bit into her burger. It was good.
"I am... Thank you." She smiled at him.
"Haaah? Uh..." he paused as he was about to down a large haunch of
ham. "Well... Ah... You're welcome..." She couldn't quite tell if he
reddened because of the rainbows, but she thought that he did. "Yet you
seem sad, still... Ami... chan." He was looking at her again, but not
with the casually mocking, leering stare he normally used.
"Annhh..." She looked away, shaking her head again. "It's
nothing, Yuu-kun..." I wish... I wish **Trunks** would take me to places
like this...
---
In the vacuum of space, there is little matter for energy to
disturb, or to be scattered or reflected from, little in the way of
anything to cause it to diffuse or diminish. Except for the occasional
clouds of dust and gas... and the lines of ships before those massive,
prodigious streams of destructive force. Kilometers apart, the heavy
shapes hung in the vast emptiness, belching out a hailstorm of deadly
light at each other, with little regard for what came between them. Five
satellites, two colony bases, and an as yet undetermined number of human
craft had so far had the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the
wrong time.
Vegita snarled as he struck the control panel in irritation. They
were not paying attention! Of course, they obviously had problems to
take care of, but no one simply brushed off the Saiyajin no Ouji (which
is how he still thought of himself). There were ties that bound the
Saiyajin and the K'ierani together - ties that had been forged with the
exchange of planets for technology, and service for service. Ties that
were supposed to be eternal. And that meant that when the head of the
remaining Royal House of Vegitasei spoke, he damned well had better be
listened to! Of course... Perhaps they thought that Freeza had finished
the job after all. Well, it was time to prove them wrong!
He activated the directional thrusters, and punched the red button
("Remember boss! The RED button! It starts a special program running
that will turn your boat around and fire the thrusters for the exact time
it takes to stop it! Don't try to control the ship manually, or you may
end up crashing through Mars!"). He snorted. He never did care very
much for all this technological crap. In the end, he was still his own
most powerful weapon. As the thrusters kicked in, and incredible
deceleration caused the entire ship to vibrate with the strain, his
inertia pushed him against the improvised passenger seat HARD, almost
breaking through the rear retaining cargo wall. For him, it was about as
uncomfortable and painful as an average sparring match with one of his
own kind. For nearly anyone else... it would mean getting reduced to a
red smear of cells, bones and fluid in a little corner of the cargo
space. The roar of the engines (which composed 48% of the ship - another
48% being fuel and the last few cubic feet of which was for cargo, which
in this case was crash webbing for a single humanoid passenger, and
minimal life support as well as communications) would have hurt his ears,
if he had not been expecting it.
Still, he grunted slightly as he felt the effect of several hundred
G's of acceleration. "Sometimes, I truly wish I knew Shunkan Idou as
well..." he muttered. As though he would ever stoop to learning anything
from Kakarotto...
As the insane cacophony of the engines and the creaking metal
strains and vibrations of the courier vessel faded to silence, a
pleasant, synthesized voice (it was his secretary's bubbly voice) spoke,
"All stop!" In irritation, Vegita wondered just how it was that the
infernally cute human could squeeze so much damned... cuteness into two
words!
Ah, but onto business, he thought, and smiled. He checked the
chronometer installed in the makeshift dashboard, absently noting that
the supposedly unbreakable glass shield had cracked from the various
forces the ship had been subjected to. He still had a full five minutes
before his merchant ships would reach their certain destruction within
that inferno of multihued energies. Plenty of time. A disconcertingly
loud set of staccato pops accompanied his brief stretching. There were
several ways a Saiyajin could make himself heard... and this was one of
the more traditional ways of doing it.
---
Before their silent, faintly orange eyes, they could see the
smuggler fleet steadily losing power. It had been about time that they
had caught up with them... They had become too strong to ignore, and it
was important to send the message that smugglers that also operated in
paramilitary fashion with military grade equipment simply would not be
tolerated. Nothing could be permitted to get in the way of the Empire's
Law.
But what was this? Ahhh... She smiled, licking her lips in
anticipation. The rumors appeared to be true...
---
He rarely pushed himself this far. It was not actually necessary,
but the K'ierani always liked a good show of force, and with the immense
distance between him and the ships, being empowered like this would
merely simplify the task of keeping his attacks from dissipating too
much, yet... He'd almost forgotten how exhilarating it felt! Charged up
with so much POWER! Enough power to destroy thousands upon thousands of
worlds! His body could withstand the cold vacuum of space for quite a
while without any protection as it was, but like this, ahh! The
pressures on his body had just become completely irrelevant to his will.
He could walk through the burning hell of a blue star and his marble
flesh would barely get tanned, so powerful was the golden energy field
around him. His face was locked into a grim rictus of a sneer as he
pushed his far longer hair out of the way, and felt it streaming behind
him like fire. Yes, his son was indeed more powerful than him now, but
he was hardly past his prime!
As he raised his hands before him, he wanted to scream out, "You
DARE ignore ME? You DARE fire upon MY business interests?" But of
course he had to hold his breath. There was no air, no one would hear
his cry, but they would certainly see the results!
---
"Oh my! How interesting..." He readjusted a few controls on the
telescope.
"What do you see, Father?" Bulma's voice fairly dripped with
boredom.
"Nothing, my dear. But, oh my! What a spectacular light show!"
An incessant beeping kept her from asking what the show was about.
As she held the link to her ear, her eyes widened in a way that could
only be described as... Well, angry. Angry in a way that dwarfed the
long-time, burning hatred that was necessary to carry out a life-long
plan of vengeance against, say... well, just about anybody.
"HE DID WHAT?" she sputtered. "Excuse me a moment, I'll be there in a
few minutes!"
"Trouble, dearest?"
"Dad, I swear, if he gets my latest invention blasted to pieces...
No, wait, if he gets himself blasted to pieces... AAAAAARRRGH!" She
would have wrung her hair, except that the co-president of one of the
largest corporations on the planet simply did not DO that sort of thing.
She marched out of the door, muttering and cursing all the way. "After
eighteen years of this..." she ground her teeth.
"Ah, love! If only your dear departed mother could see what a
wonderful wife and mother you've become..." he reminisced, a little
blurry-eyed as he sat back down in his wheelchair. It had been a long
time since anything exciting had happened... must have been building up,
he thought.
---
He glanced up briefly from his textbook. "Impressive..." he
muttered, blinking away a brief spell of dizziness. "Most impressive..."
"You talk to yourself much?"
He glanced up at the tall, lean whipcord of a man. "Just...
thinking."
"Look, I didn't see you do anything. And I'm not the jealous
type... but would you mind explaining to me what happened the night of
the party?" The other plopped down in front of him, a sharp glare aimed
directly at his eyes.
He was glad that he had improved in hiding the effects. "I do not
know what you are talking about, Mister... Santini, right? I was just
passing by that night at the party... I merely tripped, that was all.
As far as I am concerned, what Ms. Mishima did next was because she was a
minor who had a little too much to drink."
"Minor?" Nik blinked. "Damn, you take yourself very seriously for
someone who looks about sixteen, don't you? Hey, I was with her all
night, she didn't have anything remotely alcoholic to drink."
"Then you were not watching closely enough... because you were
looking at another female during the party, perhaps?"
Nik started. "I... O-of course not!" His expression grew more
suspicious, if possible. "How would you know anything about that! Were
you spying on us?"
"I just met you and her a couple of nights ago. Why would I have
wanted to be spying on you? I merely saw how uncomfortable you were with
her... I have had a lot of practice reading people, the little
subconscious signals and gestures they use." He absently pushed his
bangs back out of his eyes. "You are confused about you and her, yes?
And about another?"
Mikeru's eyes seemed to freeze him in place. "I... Well, that
is... I mean... Uh, WHAT?"
The thinner student stood. "Would you like to talk about it over
some coffee?"
Nik was still gawking. "Ah, that is to say... Ah..." he sighed,
helplessly. "Sure." Darn, not even Ami could push my buttons this well!
---
"Yes, your Highness!" Her voice was throaty, her accent
understandably coarse as she had just learned the language moments before
through a sophisticated data-link. But she was improving with every
word... The K'ierani had always been the brilliant ones. She bowed
deeply, carefully keeping her long, green hair from spilling out over her
chest, her slightly feline ears twitching in surprised pleasure. "It is
an honor, Vegita-sama! We thought that Freeza had destroyed your people!
It is glorious that we are re-united. It's been so long since my people
were in this part of space, and my," she purred, "how powerful you have
become! One blast and the entire smuggler fleet, despite its advanced
Hawk's Light Shields, wiped out, just like that. Surely you are the
Super Saiyajin of Legend!"
His blood heated again, and it was not with battle-fury...
She was moving towards him, and he nearly flinched.
He had forgotten about that... He knew that he simply should not
let it bother him. He was Saiyajin, damn it! The Saiyajin did not get
bothered with such inconsequential things... and they did NOT blush!
Especially not the one who was supposed to be the reigning monarch!
"I've been around humans for too long," he whispered, pointedly keeping
his eyes above her neck and his brow creased in its perpetually
disapproving scowl...
"Mmmnnhh..." she murmured as she stepped closer to him. "Do you
not find me pleasing?" she pouted, turning a little for him. He could
not quite keep his eyes off her naked form this time... As with
Saiyajin, the K'ierani looked mostly human, but were so much more.
Though in their case, they were more inclined towards technological
pursuits rather than physical ones. Still, they were much tougher than
the average human... which allowed more freedom and necessitated far less
care for certain... activities. And too, they were far more...
sensual... in every aspect.
This was ridiculous! He was making a fool of himself, he screamed
internally. He cleared his throat, and simultaneously took firm control
of where his eyes were focussing. "Ambassador... if you would please...
put your uniform back on..."
Her eyes drooped. "I am almost insulted... Saiyajin..." Her
reproach was quiet, and all the more threatening. "Is this not the
traditional greeting between our races as allies?" Her lip curled,
revealing gleaming fangs at that remark.
By now, her command of the language was perfect.
"I have been... among different people lately. The customs of the
Saiyajin... have had to change. Things are not the same as when... as
when our soldiers spanned half the galaxy. Of course, we still honor the
contracts with the K'ierani, but times have... changed." He cursed. He
was talking too much, much too much for a Saiyajin. His people did NOT
negotiate this way. But he could not get it out of his mind that, if
Bulma saw him... concluding the diplomatic negotiations with this alien
in the traditional way... she would skin him alive, never-mind that he
was one of the strongest warriors in the universe! She'd find a way, he
knew she would... damn her cursed human-ness...
The alien woman seemed disappointed, but at least it was amusement
in her eyes. "Very well... your Highness. I will respect your new...
cultural alignment. Such a shame," her feral eyes examined him up and
down quite thoroughly, "it would have been quite pleasant. And to think
I'd heard so much about the endless Saiyajin stamina..."
He cleared his throat, again. "You will, of course, open relations
with the humans as well." She'd definitely kill him. Maybe torture him
a little first. With that ingenious mind of hers, he was sure she'd be
able to find something... "In their way... Ambassador..."
She sighed. "Very well. But they are so tiresome, my dear
Vegita! We stopped watching them nearly a hundred years ago, they were
so boring, so pedestrian. Are you sure... quite sure, you wouldn't
first like to complete your diplomatic... obligations... to me?" She
swayed her hips invitingly as her musk scent made his nostrils flare,
made him bare his own fangs as he felt an inevitable lurch in his loins.
With an effort, he shook his head.
"Your loss... Saiyajin..."
He was sure that she was smirking even as she began walking away.
"Yes... surely pleasant... indeed!" The things I give up for you, you
unappreciative female... HUMAN! He cursed to himself profusely as she
left the guest chambers. Still... he was glad that Bulma at least
wouldn't have any reason to scream at him this time. Not too much,
anyway...
He hoped.
And blinked. Uh, oh... the contract...
---
"Hello? Yes, this is Trunks... Father?" He blinked. "Why is the
signal so bad?"
"From Mars, you say? Wh-what are you doing around Mars? Does
Mother know?"
He blinked once more. Then the steering wheel in his right hand
began to crumple. Before he could crash, he punched the auto-drive. In
a strangled voice, he spoke, "Say that again?"
He pulled the phone back and stared at it intently.
The speaker adjusted to the greater distance, and increased its
volume. "Trunks? Answer, boy!"
Trunks took a deep, deep breath. And screamed.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT I'M ENGAGED!!!"
--- end episode 15
Notes: Another title I was considering for this episode was "Transitions
of Randomness..." Actually, I was also thinking about... "Those
Annoying Aliens" but decided to go with the first title. As always, C&C
is eagerly appreciated. Why my name change?
Well, why not, my dear, my dear, why not?
Happy holidays from the Nikholas F. Toledo Zu!
Nikholas F. Toledo Zu @ http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Flats/3145/mezza9.html
Vector, Switch, Yebah, Rain Man, goo, Pervert, Scruples, Hollie, NomaD,
Blitz, Gee, Datzo, Jewel, Elf, Radler, Pinball, Mayhem, Chaos, Father
Fanfiction @ http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Flats/3145/fanfics.html
Warp Zone @ http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Flats/3145/thirteen.html
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The logo of the Church of All Worlds is nine concentric circles.
Word from the Laity: Wipe yer feet! Bloody 'ell...
http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/Gallery/3145/index.html
Currently under construction... confessional at the links.
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