"Mrrrooow!"
"Yeah, I know, just hang in there. See that? It's Wolf's Peak. We're almost home."
The cat curled up in the back of the car yawned and went back to her nap. Yamcha sighed and focused on driving. Traveling off road in the desert could be dangerous even if he remembered the route perfectly. A part of him wondered why he hadn't come back sooner. Another part of him replied "because you were a professional athlete for over ten years". A fair point. However now he was getting a little too old to keep playing baseball. Thus the trip he was on. Sure others might call his sudden interest in astronomy a "mid-life crisis" but Yamcha liked to think of it as a return to an old hobby. He had always loved the stars and they were clearest in the skies above the desert he grew up in. After a few more twists and turns he finally arrived.
"Alright Puar. We made it." he announced. Puar meowed at him. He quickly unpacked the car and started moving things into his old home. From a distance it just looked like a rock formation. Reasonably so as it was carved into one. A hidden entrance gave way to the front door. Inside was a simple yet relatively modern living space. A basic kitchen area covered most of the first floor along with a few couches. Off to the side was a laundry room. Upstairs was the main bedroom along with the bathroom and a hidden rooftop area perfect for stargazing.
"I'd say we're all moved in." he declared after about an hour of unpacking and arranging things. Puar yawned from where she had settled down on a couch cushion and went back to sleep. Yamcha decided to leave her be and headed upstairs to watch the sunset.
The red and orange of the sun made the sand glow all the way to the horizon just like he remembered. With a sigh and a smile he leaned back into the lawn chair he had dragged outside. With every passing second he was more and more sure that he had made the right choice by moving back out here. It didn't take long for the sky to darken and the stars to shine.
"Might as well put this thing to good use." Yamcha mumbled to himself as he set up his telescope. Just like he had expected the view was stunning. He put together the gleaming patterns the stars made and even spotted a far off planet. It may have been the best night possible for stargazing.
"Shooting stars too? Must be a good sign." Yamcha commented as he noticed a bright spot moving its way across the blackness. Then it... got bigger?
"... that's not a shooting star." Yamcha realized. He watched the mystery object through the telescope as it continued to grow in size. It quickly became apparent that whatever it was had to be traveling fast as it got closer with every second. After a minute of observing Yamcha could hear a faint noise. Some kind of whistle, maybe, or screech. It got louder as the object approached. He was starting to feel anxious. This... thing... looked like it was about to crash into the desert and crash it did. With a final deafening roar and flash of light it hit the sands nearby. It was close enough to still be seen through the telescope. Yamcha rushed off the roof and down towards the front door.
"It could have been a plane crash." Yamcha reasoned as he tossed on his jacket.
"People could be hurt." he said while he grabbed a travel size first aid kit from the trunk of his car.
"Aaaand... I can't safely take this thing over anymore sand." he concluded while staring at said car. He would have to adjust and clean it before it would run properly in the desert. After a few moments of brainstorming he snapped his fingers as an idea came to mind. He ran to the front side of the house and ducked into a hidden garage. He hadn't been in there for years, like the rest of the place, and coughed as the dust rose up around him. Despite this he grinned as he laid eyes on his old motorcycle. He laughed for a second at the name "Jet squirrel" printed on the side. Teenage him certainly had a knack for naming things.
"Let's hope you still work..." he muttered as he checked over the bike. It wasn't in the best condition, considering the age, but after some quick tune ups and a transfer of some gas from the car it revved up just like it used to. Yamcha grinned as he hopped into the seat and set off across the dunes. This was definitely something he had missed doing. The thrill of the ride was dampened as soon as he saw the glow of flames coming from the crash site. He parked the Jet squirrel a few feet away from the lip of the crater and walked towards it.
"That's... not a plane." was all he could think to say once he saw what the mystery object had been. Some kind of ship was lying in the ground. A few outer parts were burning but compared to the rest of the ship it wasn't actually that much. The vessel was huge. Yamcha guessed it was about the same size as a baseball field.
"What the hell happened?" he said with with a mix of disbelief and awe. He took a step closer. Then another. Then he proceeded to promptly fall over the edge of the crater and roll to the bottom. Once he stopped tumbling he groaned and got up. Now that he was next to the ship he could see a panel had broken off the side to reveal... a hallway?
"This is a bad idea..." Yamcha told himself as he approached it. Even with his reasonable fear he still pushed past the wreckage to step into the ship. A wretched smell wafted over to him and with a sick feeling rising in his stomach he recognized it. After so many times over-cooking lizard and coyote in his teen years for food how could he not? Burnt flesh. He covered his mouth and nose with one hand as he fumbled for his pocket flashlight with the other. As soon as he had a solid grip he switched it on and nearly dropped it at the sight which greeted him.
"Oh... oh god..." was all he could choke out as he tried to keep down the bile that threatened to leave his throat. Half a dozen charred bodies were scattered throughout the hallway before him. Some of their limbs were outstretched in a final gesture of pain and terror while others were curled into a corner, accepting their fate. What was maybe the worst part was how human they looked. The only difference Yamcha could spot was on one of the more intact corpses. Their eyes were gone, of course, but just above the main two was a socket for a third. They were an alien.
Yamcha moved as fast as he could out of the hallway. He ended up in a lab of some sort and paused to take several deep breaths. He wiped away tears he hadn't noticed had formed in his eyes and tried to calm himself. He hadn't been prepared for this. When he finally took a good look around the room things weren't much better. Shattered vials of unidentified liquids were everywhere and a broken light flickered.
"Okay. I'm on a crashed spaceship with with a bunch of dead aliens." Yamcha said in a panicked whisper. The shock of the situation was starting to reach him and he couldn't focus. This was way too much. He took a few stumbling strides forwards and his boot clinked against shattered glass. At least he thought it was glass. He made his way out of the lab and down another hallway.
This one had more burned bodies. He looked directly at the floor in front of him and kept walking. He wasn't sure why but he felt like he had to. Maybe someone had survived. He stopped when he reached a door. There was a barely visible energy field of some kind surrounding it. It didn't shock him when he touched it but it didn't budge ethier.
"It's protecting something..." Yamcha mumbled. It was the only explanation he could think of.
"Hey! Is anyone there? I'm here to help!" he shouted. An alien probably wouldn't understand any kind of human language but he reasoned that the noise would catch the attention of anyone inside. This idea was proven correct when he was answered by a slightly muffled shout in an alien dialect.
"I'm here to help you!" he repeated. "Please don't shoot me or anything."
The shouting got louder and within seconds both the barrier and the door had vanished. Yamcha took a moment to register the room in front of him. It was ornately decorated with a plethora of shining metal and bright colors. Then he looked down. What appeared to be a small child was standing in front of him. They had a few scratches and bruises marring their porcelain white skin. Ruby red circles highlighted their cheeks and wide eyes filled with fear stared up at him.
"Uh... hey there." Yamcha said. He crouched down slowly to be at eye level with the kid. The child hid behind the doorframe slightly and Yamcha noticed they were crying.
"It's okay! Don't cry. I won't hurt you." he said in the most calming voice he could muster. He had always been good with children. Hopefully this extended to aliens. "There's no need to be scared. I only want to help."
"?" The kid said something Yamcha couldn't understand but the inflection made it feel like a question.
"Sorry kid, I don't know what you're saying. That's okay though. Come with me and I'll get you cleaned up, alright?" Yamcha said. He reached out a hand towards the kid. After eyeing him for a second the kid reached out their own tiny hand. Then they promptly smacked it onto Yamcha's face.
"This is how I die then. An alien child. Can't say I saw this coming." Yamcha thought as his body involuntary froze. Then he felt it. A pulse of something, an energy maybe, made its way from the kids hand and into his head. A few seconds later the hand was removed. Yamcha blinked a few times. He was surprised to find that he was still alive and apparently no worse for wear. Then the alien spoke again. He still heard the original language it had used but layered over it like an echo were words he could actually understand.
"You! You help!" said the kid. As far as he could tell from the voice this kid was a little boy. Then again, aliens, so he couldn't be sure. Yamcha simply nodded as he tried to process this newest development.
"Yeah, I'm here to help. That's what I said." Yamcha repeated. The kid grabbed his sleeve and tugged at it. He pointed towards the far end of the room and tried to pull Yamcha towards it.
"You help Ten!"
"Okay kid, I'll help. Calm down." Yamcha said, as if he was calm himself. The child all but dragged him across the room while repeating his request. There was some kind of seat at the end.
"Looks like a throne..." Yamcha mumbled. The kid yanked his jacket again and pointed behind the chair.
"Please! Help Ten!" he said. More tears rolled down his face and his voice cracked. "Please... help him."
"I... oh..." Yamcha said. He had spotted the body the kid was pointing at. He would have assumed the alien was dead already had it not been for the loud shuddering gasps he emitted as he desperately tried to stay alive. Shrapnel from one of the countless broken ship parts had lodged itself diagonally across nearly half of his upper chest. There was blood covering the floor, the metal embedded in the flesh, the alien, and his clothes along with everything within a one foot range.
"Help Ten!" shouted the kid once more.
"Okay kid, I'm helping, no need to yell." Yamcha said. He fished out the first aid kit from a pocket and opened it. He knew the meager supplies it held wouldn't be enough to do much but he had to try. He assessed the alien again and was shocked to notice that he had a second set of arms growing from his sides.
"How did I miss that the first time?" Yamcha wondered as he started to carefully cut away the clothing surrounding the wound. "Maybe the bodies in the hallway had them too... hard to tell."
The next few minutes passed in a silence only interrupted by the ragged breathing of the alien Yamcha was tending to. The more he looked at the injury the worse it seemed. He knew he couldn't take out the piece of debris without causing fatal blood loss. He also couldn't leave it in forever. He opted to use a mix of the medical gauze from the first aid kit and the now torn clothing to bandage around the metal. It held it in place while stopping the bleeding around it.
"That will help for now. I need to get him somewhere he can get proper medical care." Yamcha said with a heavy sigh. The hopeful look the kid was giving him wasn't helping his morale.
"Will Ten be okay?" the kid asked. Yamcha attempted to give him a reassuring smile. Then he gave up. There was no point in lying or sugarcoating.
"I don't know." he admitted. "I'm doing my best but... he's hurt really badly."
"... will you still help?" said the kid.
"Of course. I'll do whatever I can." Yamcha said. His second attempt at a smile was foiled as he noticed the room was eerily silent. He couldn't hear the alien breathing anymore.
"No, no no no, don't you dare..." Yamcha rambled as he felt the panic start to set in. It was obvious he couldn't do proper CPR with the giant hunk of metal sticking out of the aliens chest.
"I'm not letting you go that easy..." he mumbled as he leaned down. With chest compressions not a viable option all that was left was the breaths. Recalling the lessons he once took in first aid years ago he tilted the aliens chin back, gently pulled open his mouth, then plugged his nose and tried to breathe life into him. Two breaths and then wait. No response. He tried again. Nothing.
"One more. This will work. It has to." Yamcha thought as he gave it a final shot. He was rewarded with the still horrid sounding but much welcome gasps from the alien as he revived.
"Don't do that again." he grumbled, knowing full well that the alien couldn't hear nor understand him.
"Is he okay?" asked the kid after a few seconds.
"He's alive. That's all that matters right now." Yamcha said. He slowly began to pick up the alien in a bridal style carry. Any other position would only drive the metal further into his body. Yamcha stood, regretting his choice to stop going to the gym during the last few years, and made sure he wouldn't drop the alien.
"What are you doing?" said the kid.
"Like I said, he needs to be somewhere with proper medical care. That place is not in the middle of a crashed spaceship." Yamcha said. He started to walk towards the end of the room. "Follow me. Maybe cover your eyes in the hallway."
"I know. The others are dead." said the kid. He followed closely behind Yamcha. Then he started floating.
"Okay, you can fly, that's a thing now..." Yamcha mumbled but the kid didn't seem to hear him.
"There was a hole. The fire came in. The others protected me and Ten. All the energy made a shield around the room." the kid continued his explanation.
"You can tell me about it later, okay? We need to focus." Yamcha said as they made their way down the hall. "If there's any sort of medical stuff that helps your species then you can go find it for me. It would help, uh, Ten, a lot."
"Okay!" said the kid. He left and Yamcha was left to carry the alien on his own. He bottled up any complaints he may have had and kept walking. He could freak out about the alien thing later. Right now he had a life to save. He kept his focus on navigating the scorched hallways and finding the way he had entered from. The alien in his arms was breathing shallowly and Yamcha felt his panic rising again. If something happened before he got the alien back to his place then there was no saving him. It was now or never. He started to recognize the part of the ship he had reached. At least he wasn't lost. The kid flew over to him. He was holding a cylinder of some kind in his arms.
"This will help." he said. Yamcha acknowledged him with a nod and kept going. It wasn't long before he was outside in the thankfully cold night. Carrying the alien up the crater's side was a whole new obstacle and Yamcha was shocked he actually made it without killing his passenger. He awkwardly got on his motorcycle with the alien draped carefully across his arms.
"Grab onto my shoulders or something, kid. This is gonna be a fast ride." he told the child as he revved the engine. The kid floated up to head height and sat on Yamcha's shoulders. He kept one hand on Yamcha's head and the other clutching the canister of medicine.
"Ready!" declared the little alien. Yamcha kicked off the ground and his bike shot across the sand. Navigating the dunes with an alien in his lap and one wrapped around his head was no easy feat. He wobbled a lot more than he would have liked and winced every time there was a bump. He felt his heartbeat pick up as he noticed the bike was starting to run low on fuel. He prayed to whatever higher power was out there that he'd make it home. Luckily for Yamcha it seemed someone was listening that night as the bike slid to a halt only a few feet from his house.
"Okay." he declared once he had maneuvered his way inside. "Kid, you stay down here and I'll take care of your friend, okay?"
"Okay." said the kid. He handed over the cylinder. "You press the button to spray. It will help close the wound."
"Got it, spray this on him." Yamcha said. He started to make his way upstairs but the kid floated in front of him.
"... Promise me you'll make Ten better." he said quietly. Yamcha sighed.
"I can't promise anything besides doing my best. Okay?" he said. The child stayed silent for a moment and then sniffled.
"Okay." he said. He swiped at the tears welling in his eyes.
"Don't cry, kid. I'm sure I can do it." Yamcha said while being one hundred percent unsure of that exact fact. The kid moved out of his way and he carefully carried the larger alien up the stairs.
He didn't exactly have an operating room at the ready but if worst came to worst his bathroom was the easiest to clean. He set the alien down gently on the floor and got to work setting up anything he might need. Said anything consisted of the rest of his regular first aid kid, a few towels, and the cylinder the kid had given him. The first thing he knew he needed to do was remove the chunk of shrapnel in the aliens chest. He got to work cutting away the makeshift bandages he had constructed back on the ship and flinched as a fresh layer of blood quickly spilled onto the tiles. He placed the cylinder next to him for easy access and braced himself. He steadied his footing, one knee on the floor and the other foot firmly planted next to it. Then he reached out and grabbed the dullest looking edges of the metal he could see. With a sharp inhale and a whispered apology he pulled as hard as he could.
Despite the size of the scrap, Yamcha discovered, it was deceptively light. He nearly fell backwards as the piece came out with a squelching noise he hoped he'd never hear again. This movement was accompanied with a sudden spray of more blood and a scream as the alien woke up from the pain. Yamcha hastily tossed the metal aside and grabbed the cylinder. He pointed what he hoped was the nozzle end at the gash and pressed the button. A mist of some kind sprayed from the thankfully correctly guessed part of the device and settled around the wound. Nothing seemed to he happening at first but when Yamcha leaned in to look he saw the deepest part of the cut starting to seal. It was pretty hard to tell with the alien's chest heaving as he yelled with an agony he was now well aware of. Yamcha applied another layer of mist and was relieved to see another section of the cut begin to close up. He repeated the process until the canister ran out of whatever medicine was inside of it. By that point the wound was shallow enough that Yamcha felt comfortable stitching it shut.
He wasn't exactly the best at sewing but when it came down to it he could at least make a proper stitch. After retrieving the needle and thread from the first aid box he took a deep breath and prepped everything. He focused all his attention on his sewing and tried his best to ignore the continued cries that came from the alien. After what felt like an hour to him Yamcha tied off the thread and snipped the excess. The alien had quieted down to a few occasional groans and general panting. Yamcha put away the supplies he hadn't used and plopped the rest in the sink to be washed later. He wet some towels with warm water and started cleaning the blood away from the aliens newly closed wound. There were a few hisses in response but the alien didn't fight back. Once that was done Yamcha cleaned up as much as he could around the alien without moving him. When he went to attempt to pick up the alien and move him somewhere more comfortable he was surprised to see three half lidded eyes staring at him. The alien murmured something but it didn't translate like the things the kid had said earlier. Yamcha gave the alien the most reassuring and comforting look he could muster. There wasn't any use saying anything right now. He wouldn't be understood and he doubted the alien would understand him anyways. He picked up the alien once again and tried his best to cause no further pain.
There weren't many places other than his room that had beds but then he remembered the couch in the attic. He made his way up there as carefully as he could and gently placed the alien onto the couch.
"I know you won't understand me but try to get some sleep. I'll ask that kid about what kind of painkillers you can take tommorow." Yamcha said as he pulled an extra blanket across the aliens legs. "Just relax and heal up."
"?" The alien said something that sounded like a question but Yamcha could only shake his head in response.
"I have no idea what you're saying. Maybe that kid can translate later... Anyways, like I said, you need to rest." he said. He stood up and adjusted the couch cushions so the alien wasn't putting pressure on his chest. "I'll check in on you in the morning."
"?" Another question from the alien. He pointed at Yamcha and repeated it. "?"
"Are you asking who I am?" Yamcha said. He placed a hand over his chest. "My name is Yamcha."
"Yaum...Cha.." the alien said slowly. "Yamcha."
"Yes, that's right. I'm Yamcha." said Yamcha. The alien smiled slightly and moved his hand to gingerly cover the side of his chest that wasn't injured.
"Ten... Shin... Han." he said. "Tenshinhan."
"You're Tenshinhan. Got it." Yamcha said. He smiled back at the alien and turned to leave. "I'll see you in the morning."
Tenshinhan said something quietly and then closed his eyes. Yamcha turned off the attic light and made his way downstairs. The kid floated up to him with worry in all his features.
"Is Ten okay?" he asked. Yamcha gave him a tired grin.
"Yeah, he's okay. He's sleeping upstairs right now." he said. The kid relaxed and started crying again. Yamcha reached out and wiped away some of the tears. "Hey, c'mon now. I did it, didn't I?"
"You did." the kid agreed. He flew forwards enough to wrap his arms around Yamcha in a tiny hug. "Thank you. For helping Ten."
"I couldn't have done it without you kid." Yamcha said as he lightly patted the little aliens back. The child released him and floated back.
"Not kid. Chiaotzu. Chi-out-zoo." he said, sounding out the word carefully.
"Nice to meet you Chiaotzu." said Yamcha. "Wish I could have made a better first impression. Name's Yamcha."
"Thank you again, Yamcha." said Chiaotzu. "Ten is like family to me."
"I can tell you care a lot about him. He should be fine so don't worry. Get some sleep." Yamcha said. As if on cue Chiaotzu yawned.
"Good idea. You should also rest." he said.
"Trust me, I plan to." Yamcha said. He set up Chiaotzu with a blanket and pillow on the downstairs couch before he made his way up to his own room. He flopped down on the bed and sighed as the fatigue of the nights events caught up with him.
"Mrrowr?"
"Yeah Puar, I know. Things are pretty crazy." he said as his cat jumped onto the bed next to him. He pet her softly and the steady drone of her purring helped him fall asleep. He needed whatever rest he could get. Tommorow was bound to be a crazy day.