Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z. Wish I did, but I don't.
Introduction: Thank you for reading Double-Crossed, my first full-length fanfiction. I hope you enjoy it. Please note that this piece will contain violence, death, crude language, and other comparable situations. Also, later chapters may contain yaoi (romantic situations between two guys). But that comes later.
Without further ado, enjoy!
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Chapter One: Facing Facts
Seventeen watched his sister fade into oblivion, the remnants of the ki blast that had destroyed her slowly dissipating into the surrounding atmosphere.
He was stupefied. This… this kid had just killed Eighteen! How the hell did that happen?! She was the second most powerful being on the planet, outclassed only by Seventeen himself.
While this impossible situation was hammering itself into Seventeen's mind, Eighteen's killer turned to face him.
The warm, golden aura encircling him was offset by the frigid look in his eyes, cold enough to stop one's heart.
However, as Seventeen did not have a heart, the dramatic effect was lost on him.
Seventeen's mind kept reeling. He knew that, due to some unforeseeable occurrence, the Saiyan boy was now stronger than him.
Shit.
He also knew that if they were to fight, Seventeen would probably be killed.
Once again, shit.
Now, Seventeen felt that pride was very important. However, he felt that life was even more so. It was this hierarchy of priorities that led Seventeen to make his decision:
Time to go.
Without another moment of hesitation, Seventeen took off at full speed, fleeing in a random direction. He didn't bother to check if he was being followed; he knew he was.
He also knew that the boy couldn't track him easily if he managed to escape. With this in mind, Seventeen flew towards the mountains, weaving to avoid the ki blasts that were soaring over his head.
As he neared the edge of the mountain range, he glanced back.
The murdering bastard was right behind him. Had the situation not been so dire, Seventeen would have laughed; Calling someone a murdering bastard when he himself had killed millions without blinking.
Well, this was not the time for internal musings. Seventeen soared amongst the mountaintops, followed closely by his pursuer. He cursed under his breath. How was he going to lose this guy?
While gliding through a narrow gap between two cliffs, Seventeen fired a ki blast behind him. He heard the rock give way with a satisfying rumble. Although the rock itself would prove no barrier for the demi-Saiyan, the dust from the rockslide would provide a few moments' cover.
That was all that Seventeen needed. He and his sister had flown through these mountains hundreds of times. With his superior cognitive abilities, he could recall every inch of the terrain.
Seventeen dove through a complicated maze of cracks, crevices, and cliffs. He turned sharply into a cave completely invisible to the surrounding area. Once encompassed in the comforting darkness, Seventeen began to formulate a plan.
Seventeen sighed. He couldn't stay in this cave forever. Eventually, one of two things would happen: Either he would be found or the boy would abandon the search and merely blow up the entire mountain range.
The latter would have been Seventeen's course of action had the situation been reversed, but he doubted that his hunter would opt for such a destructive method.
Rubbing his temples in annoyance, Seventeen pulled up his data files on his pursuer.
Name: Briefs, Trunks
Race: Human/Saiyan
Age: Seventeen human years
Family: Vegeta (Father, deceased)
Briefs, Bulma (Mother, no threat)
Power Level: Medium
Conclusion: While his Saiyan heritage makes him stronger than most humans, he is considerably weaker than other Saiyan warriors including Son Goku (Deceased), Vegeta (Deceased), and Son Gohan (Deceased).
Threat: Minimal
If the boy… If Trunks was so insignificant, then why was Seventeen hiding in this cold, dark cave with his sister nowhere to be found?
Okay, back to the plan. There was a decent chance that Seventeen could escape from the mountains without being seen. He paused for a moment. Trunks was currently on the opposite side of the range, roughly ten miles west of Seventeen's hiding spot.
Yes, he could run. But where could he go? The best choice was to the nearest city. Although all the buildings were in ruins and corpses littered the ground, the cities held a higher concentration of humans than anywhere else.
It was pathetic, really, how humans flocked together even when it made them a more desirous target.
More humans meant that he could be spotted easier, true. However, he didn't care if the humans knew his location. He could easily silence them. All he had to do was avoid Trunks.
To Trunks, a city would be the last place Seventeen would hide.
His mind made up, Seventeen slipped silently out of the cave and into the sky, keeping low to avoid being spotted.
Though he was fleeing for his life, Seventeen took a moment to enjoy his surroundings. The wind in his hair. The chill of the air. The way the sunlight struck the smoke rising from the burning highway that he and Eighteen had destroyed a while ago.
He arrived in the city, noting with satisfaction the general state of disrepair. Years of fear and sorrow had really taken a toll on the humans. Buildings had crumbled, streets had flooded…
Everything seemed to have lost its color.
Seventeen noticed a billboard lying sadly on the ground. He approached it, craning his neck so he could read the words.
Come Visit Us at Capsule Corporation! Providing Technology and Transportation That Makes Your Lives Easier!
The overtly cheery tone of the text offended him. He raised a hand to destroy it, only to lower it a moment later as recognition struck. Capsule Corporation was run by Trunks' mother, Bulma.
Seventeen remembered that Bulma was a scientist. He also recalled that she had sent Goku and company off to another planet prior to his creation.
Space. That was the answer to his problems. There was absolutely no way Trunks could find him if he left this pathetic planet. Plus, there were other planets simply ripe for the genocide that he could bring.
After consulting his internal database, he flew off towards the residence of his bitterest foe.
Upon his arrival, Seventeen scanned for humans. It appeared that Trunks' mother was absent at the time. Perfect.
Seventeen took the liberty of inviting himself in. He wandered through the more typical parts of the residence —kitchen, living room, dining area— before arriving in what he assumed was Bulma's lab.
Papers covered every inch of the small desk in the corner. Half-finished designs were crumpled up and strewn across the floor. Various machines were lying about the room.
Seventeen snorted. As far as laboratories went, this one was rather unimpressive. Granted, Bulma had probably been driven from her real lab by the androids' years of havoc. Oops.
He frowned. There was certainly nothing that looked capable of carrying him through space. He shifted through the papers on the desk with a decided lack of interest. One sheet caught his eye. He picked it up and smirked.
It was a plan for an android deactivation remote. Judging from the furious scriblings and erasings, it was far from completion. However, Seventeen destroyed out of caution and, in all honesty, spite. He was not in a pleasant mood at the moment.
A sudden noise upstairs only served to exacerbate his displeasure. The scientist was home and Seventeen had yet to procure a space vessel. He froze as he heard footsteps approching his location. He stared at the doorknob as it started to turn.
As Bulma opened the door, she was met by a ki blast. In the microseconds before her death, her eyes widened as she saw the killer of her lover and friends in her lab. Then nothingness overtook her and she thought no more.
Seventeen frowned. Damn. He had meant to interrogate her about the location of the space shuttle. Oh, well. Old habits die hard.
Besides, Trunks had killed the person he cared about most. He was using 'cared' and 'person' very loosely. It was only fair that Seventeen returned the favor.
Now, back to the search. Seventeen came across a handful of capsules. He picked each one up and examined it closely. Hovercar. Submarine. Motorbike. Storage. Much to his chagrin, none were labeled 'Spacecraft.' He growled in frustration.
Seventeen shifted through the papers on the desk, discovering no other capsules.
He pouted. What good was a scientist when she didn't have what he wanted?
Seventeen walked over to Bulma's corpse. He looked down in derision. Her face was marred by shock, anger, confusion, and despair. Pointless. He noticed with interest the bag lying at her side.
Picking the bag up, Seventeen dumped the contents unceremoniously onto the ground. More papers, a few coins, some rubbish, and a knife. He eyed the blade with interest.
Why would Bulma need a knife? Protection, perhaps. However, the weapon would have done nothing against the androids. Another reason, then. Something more sublte and desperate. But what?
Seventeen dismissed his ponderings as something more interesting caught his eye.
It was another capsule. This one was substantially larger than the others. It was yellowish in color and lacked a label. Seventeen decided to give it a shot.
Clasping his bounty, Seventeen wandered outside. After surveying the land for a few minutes, he found a space large enough to hold whatever came out of the capsule. He pressed the release mechanism and tossed the capsule in front of him. He held his breath —metaphorically, of course— as the smoke cleared.
In front of him was a egg-shaped machine. The bottom half was yellow, the top half was encased in glass. Inside, Seventeen could see a seat and a number of controls.
He smirked. This looked promising. He released the top and peered at the controls. No way of knowing if this was a spaceship. Although he was comprised of advanced machinery, Seventeen was surprisingly inept when it came to technology. He hadn't the faintest clue as to how this device worked.
As he was pondering the marvels of modern machinery, Seventeen's sensors let out an alert. He checked his scanner. To his shock and dismay, it revealed that Trunks was headed this way rather quickly.
Okay. If Seventeen wanted to keep his head, it was time to leave. He climbed in the vehicle and applied his tried-and-true method of dealing with technology: random button pressing.
After a few button taps and switch flips, the machine began to hum. A couple more and it rose into the air. One last prod and there was a flash of light.
As the light faded, the ship and the android were nowhere to be found.
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