The Third & The History of Tank
Preface
This is technically two stories in one: (1) Tank charging after cell in the main timeline and (2) her life growing up under siege of the androids. As much as I love explaining things in the story (I had no plans for a preface while writing...) I think some early explanations would be helpful.
Tank Briefs (as in 'tank' top) is Bulma's second child, born soon after the activation of Androids 17, 18 and 22. In reference to canon chronology, she originates from the third timeline also known as Cell's timeline. The first timeline being the main one we're all familiar with, the second being future Trunk's time and the third being Cell and Tank's. Just a refresher since this timeline was only ever seen in flashback during the series, Tank's time is similar to Trunks' in terms of android destruction. Her existence and inevitable interference in the past, shifted events a bit. One being that another cyborg exists, known as Android 22.
Unlike her mother and brother, she has dark hair and dark eyes, which makes her curious about the father she has never met. She feels uneasy about her mixed heritage, especially being the only female demi-saiyan. She's passionate, temperamental, intelligent about sciences like her mother and impatient like her father. She is closest to Trunks since he understands their plight and heavy responsibility. They slow drift apart as they age, partially due to their opposing views on how to deal with the androids and past.
Please note that I am NOT trying to stick extremely close to canon (e.g. here's my oc, but nothing changes!) because that would be boring. There are plenty of OC/daughter centric stories that are almost canon and part of my lack of satisfaction from reading those stories prompted me to try. However I am trying to not butcher the Cell saga (my favorite in the series) so this will be a process of having Tank change the flow of the events but still have what was awesome about the saga.
The Third: Chapter 1
May 12th, 767 Timeline #1
It was a beautiful sunny afternoon as Androids 16, 17 and 18 traveled—occasionally off-roaded—on their leisurely search for the Son home.
By the clouds, high above their respective road, a stranger appeared from nowhere. Clad in a gray, tattered Capsule Corp. jumpsuit and hat, the mysterious figure configured a handheld computer to hone on the van. Spliced wires hung off the device, sparking occasionally, but the figure remained midair, waiting for the device to identify the van's mechanical passengers. The van was nearing an inclined turn around the mouth of the mountain range when the device beeped and showed two out of three matches.
The stranger put away the computer then reached into a pocket and revealed a small clear locked case. After carefully sliding in the lock code, the case snapped open and a tiny device was removed. With a slight drag on a side switch, the device glittered with green lighting to signal a working battery.
The person extended the device's antenna and slowly moved a gentle palm over the large red button on the device. Eyes still fixed on the van, the stranger pressed the button with an echoing click!
Nothing happened.
The van continued on into the mountains, towards its destination.
The person then fell hundreds of feet but slowed her fall enough to painlessly and gracefully land on the paved road. Under the brim of a cap, she stared on at the pink van as it drove in the opposing direction. She pressed the button again, hoping the closer approximation in distance helped.
Click!
Nothing happened. No swerving of the van, no sudden stops, no crashing—simply, nothing.
Hoping to have picked the wrong automobile, the person checked the tiny hand-sized computer with irritated grunt. Another scan said Androids 17 and 18 were traveling in that vehicle. Why they weren't flying and causing destruction was mindfully pondered, however such questions were shooed away as the larger problem involved a dysfunctional deactivation remote.
The stranger gritted her teeth with frustration, but soothed the anger with slow breathing. She replaced the device into its protective case.
I can try taking on the two androids by myself. A new remote would be unnecessary also a dozen formal introductions wouldn't be needed.
But...
If the computer's calculations were correct, there was an unrecognized third android of unknown strength occupying the van with Androids 17 and 18.
The stranger typed furiously on her computer and even gently smacked the edge of the screen. With a fussy spark, it affirmed that it did not recognize the android. She wondered her computer was malfunctioning and the android was in fact Android 22. Unfortunately…regardless of a malfunction, three against one was not smart.
I've made that mistake once already. Two against one had not been a good idea. Today, three against one is definitely a bad idea. She stared at the one mismatch on the screen and murmured, "Not Android #22…then which one?"
If I let them go now though, how long do I have until the hunt begins? I know the cockroach is hiding somewhere in this time. I can feel it.
The stranger knew better than to draw attention to herself, at least, it was not yet the right time. Encountering the bug was inevitable. Especially if the bug was officially stuck that timeline with her and Android 22. He would eventually show himself and then that would be the moment to be presented to the world.
Then again, she checked her watch. If the date was correct—it was very possible that the date glowing on the screen was incorrect—it meant events critical for the future were happening at that present moment. Who was still alive? Who was dead? Was the enemy even still in hiding? The young stranger also wanted, even with a reluctant inhale of breath, to make her presence clear and nonthreatening to the Earth's forces. Again, she knew better due to a prior mistake.
The stranger decided that she needed to gather more information, but unfortunately, that involved leaving the androids to carry on. The girl clenched her jaw, still watching as the van approached a tight corner now far ahead down the road. As much as the stranger absolutely hated the idea, she realized that she was unable to proceed with the original plans and thus more information was needed to amend those plans to create a potentially successful one. That's why, when the van turned over the corner, she grudgingly remained in her position, allowing the van with its deadly, yet endangered occupants to disappear from sight.
When the bumper of the van swerved right behind the mountain, the figure pictured her destination. She counted four energies on the compound and picked the one nonchalantly watering plants in the garden. She pressed two fingers near the brim of her cap for concentration then disappeared again.
Balancing baby Trunks on her hip, Bulma Briefs furiously smashed buttons on her laboratory printer. "Come on—I swear! These machines were sent from hell!" Her angry tone bothered the once tranquil baby in her arms. The sensitive baby huffed, pounding his fists in the air as he cried for his mother's affection. "Oh, oh, there, there." Bulma set her camera device aside and ignored the fussy printer to calm the now fussy baby in her arms.
Baby Trunks pouted as snot from his nose dripped onto Bulma's shoulder. Reaching for the closest box of wipes, Bulma flicked up a cloth and gently wiped her son's nose and cheeks. "See? Isn't that better, Trunks?" She mused to the little boy whose eyes opened wide as if to tell his mom that he was too young to give a verbal response.
Bulma paused for a moment, shushing Trunks for a second. From the upstairs common room by the front door of the first floor of Capsule Corp, Bulma heard a soft familiar jingle. Sighing to herself, of course, her phone, which she, the genius, was smart enough to leave in her purse, which was on a couch in the upstairs common room. Quickly, she balanced Trunks on her hip again, freed an arm, and to swiftly jog up the stairs.
"Coming! Don't hang up!" She yelled to her phone.
From further down the wing, the unnamed stranger slipped noiselessly into the laboratory. Like expected, the blonde gardener hadn't been perturbed by the intruder.
Upstairs, the person had found a bunch of magazines, which determined the present month and year, but she still needed confirmation on the particular day.
A computer screen was brightly lit with dozens of calculations and diagrams. The stranger didn't bother to read the calculations, but focused on the mid day newspaper opened flat by the keyboard.
Immediately, the stranger checked the date. 12th of May, year 763. She checked her watch and sighed a breath in relief, only a couple of hours behind thankfully. Entire days were critical, she didn't let herself forget that fact, but it could have been worse. She quickly skimmed over the front page, which was consumed by news of the morning attack nine miles South of South city. She paid close attention to the damaged caused. Majority of the high-rise buildings had been destroyed, and over 90% of the island's population had been murdered. She bit her lip; no, it was not the cockroach's nor 22's work, which meant there was still time.
Bulma would be an excellent contact, but she needed to figure out how to introduce herself without upsetting the young mother and baby...
The stranger dropped the newspaper and approached the printer. With a shaky hand, she lifted a large photograph and brought it close to her face. Suddenly, she shut her eyes and looked again, her breath becoming shallow. "Well, I'll be damned."
Something spiked the stranger's attention to the door. Abruptly, the stranger spun and saw a nervously sweating Bulma, clutching her baby tightly to her chest, mumbling softly into the phone.
"Another android, another one, no, didn't I just say one? I don't KNOW WHICH ONE, I never saw them, remember? Dark hair, fema—KYAHHHH!" Bulma shrieked, dropping her phone as the intruder made eye contact with her. Baby Trunks screamed against his mother, shocked by the loud noise.
The phone's screen shattered and the battery snapped off into two pieces.
The stranger sighed in exasperation, feeling a migraine coming on. Whom ever Bulma was speaking with would be speeding like a missile straight for Capsule Corp. at that very second. She had no idea who, how many, how powerful, or how far away the speakers were on the other end of the conversation. The stranger wearily sighed again, pressing a palm to her forehead, knowing that if she wanted to survive, she needed to calm Bulma as soon as possible.
This was the part she hated most.
"Bulma Briefs?" The stranger began, softly, and intentionally nonthreatening.
"NOOO! HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME?! YOU'RE ONE OF GERO'S MONSTERS AREN'T YOU?!" Bulma shouted over Baby Trunks' increasingly loud cries.
The girl's head pounded from their ear-piercing cries, but she gratefully deciphered many things from Bulma's outburst. First, the Z warriors had known previously about the Gero's androids. Second, Bulma had not seen the androids. And lastly, Gero really did make more androids than 17, 18 and 22, which would explain the ID mismatch.
"No, moth—" The stranger bit her tongue to pause and not mess up the crucial introduction. "I'm not an android."
Bulma stopped yelling and sniffled. "Snif, snif, you're not?" Baby Trunks' screeches were fading to mere throaty cries. "Then who—what are you?"
The stranger exhaled slowly, careful to reveal information slowly. "My name is Tank, and I'm...human."
Bulma tiptoed into the lab cautiously, a protective hand over the back of her son's head. "You said that...reluctantly."
Tank couldn't help but chuckle. Should have known that Bulma was not going to make it easy. She never did. "That will be explained soon. Depending on how soon the others arrive." The second statement to drifted off into a whisper, while Tank stayed alert for any impending energy.
Baby Trunks' crying calmed to whimpers to which his mother tenderly patted his back. Tank looked on at the baby in her arms. He rubbed his distressed face side to side, undecided about the stranger.
Bulma's brows narrowed seriously. It had been three years since a teenage boy, whom she learned to be Trunks from the future, came to Goku to inform him about a tragic trail of events that needed to be changed. He had never said anything about a young girl named Tank. "Then, why are you here?" Bulma stepped forward, quickly glimpsing over the exquisite laboratory.
Tank followed her glimpse and figured she had meant why trespass on Capsule Corp. grounds. "Again, a more satisfying reason will be explained soon, but honestly, I figured this would be a good place to start."
Both of them immediately stared down to the photograph in Tank's hand. Bulma looked at the photo then at Tank's face. Hmm, the mother thought. Tank unconsciously stepped back, blushing from Bulma's investigative stare. It registered again that Trunks was still a baby and maybe Bulma wouldn't have enough information to connect the dots. Tank hadn't been born yet.
Bulma scrutinized Tank's rounded chin and pronounced cheek bones with a squint. "You seem familiar..."
Tank's cheeks burned from the rush in her blood. She backpeddled to make space between her and Bulma. As the mother leaned forward to speculate, Tank's shoulders stiffened from discomfort.
"Where do I know you?" Bulma examined Tank from head to toe, giving Tank the urge to turn away.
"We've haven't met before." Tank uttered awkwardly.
"Hmm," Bulma hummed aloud speculatively. Finally she smiled and winked, "Alright."
Tank's tense shoulders dropped from surprise of how easily Bulma accepted her vague answers. "Just alright?" She mumbled.
Bulma's trusting smile grew wider. She nodded thoughtfully. "Ah, yes, lots of weird things have been happening these last few years, today especially. Yep, best just to go with the flow of it until it sorts itself out." She stuck her tongue out at baby Trunks who gleefully laughed.
Tank opened her mouth to say something but was still too stunned. Maybe this was going to be easy after all.
Suddenly, instincts grabbed her attention and she lifted her chin to extend her senses. Tank counted and calculated the approaching strength. Three of them. All strong, but two of them especially.
"Huh? What is it?" Bulma asked.
Rushed steps echoed down the stairs.
"Bulma!"
"Mother!"
Tank was startled when Krillin and young Gohan ran in, bombarding Bulma and the baby with concern, but she did a double take when adult Trunks bounded into the laboratory. He didn't even noticed Tank at first, too busy checking his mother and present counterpart for injury and distress.
Tank had recognized the three men who ran panting without breath into the laboratory, but her strangeness to them was apparent as they turned to her and prepared defensive stances. She stared at each of them, slowly absorbing the details as they presented themselves in her head. Gohan was no older than ten years of age. If a future Trunks was visiting this timeline, then that meant that he had killed Frieza.
Again, she was going to have to confirm this with them once they cleared up this misunderstanding. She limply stood, facing them, aware of the potential consequences of leaving her defenses completely open. Any moment out of defense-simply curling her fingers into a fist-could be interpreted as instigation.
"Are you familiar with this one, Trunks?" Krillin motioned to his right at the taller man, his serious gaze never leaving Tank. His arm was clawed to defend, his other hand closed in a fist ready to attack with his knees slightly bent, balanced and ready to go.
Trunks could not contain his disbelief. Another one? Trunks frantically shook his head. "I've never seen this android before..."
Bulma dramatically pushed Gohan and Trunks aside to kill the tension between Tank and the boys. "Oh, chill out, guys, she's not an android."
Gohan and Krillin gasped, sharing a matching expression of surprise.
Gohan stuttered. "Agh—what? Bulma? How do you know that for sure?" He leaned around Bulma to see Tank again as if to look for clues as to decide if she was an android.
A tiny half-smile swept across Tank's mouth. She could never get used to watching Gohan as a little boy who was so much younger than her.
"Well, we did some talking and she told me that she was human." Bulma answered with a laugh, causing a round of sweat-dropping from Krillin and Gohan.
Krillin cocked an eyebrow and bravely proceeded forward. Trunks still hadn't so much as flinched from his position, still ready to attack.
"Hmm," Krillin speculated as he circled the girl, muscles still taut and ready to defend at any given moment. The mere fact that she wasn't attacking him had already won her some trust. The animation in her eyes is a good indication, Krillin noted, remembering the pair's icy blue eyes.
When the androids had approached Krillin earlier, how could he forget their dull but confident statures? If anything, the girl in front of him was nervous, a far cry from the bored androids from before.
Her droopy, bloodshot eyes were bagged with purple circles. The androids from before had unlimited power so if she's was an android, I doubt that she would look so tired.
Another important detail was the lack of the Red Ribbon Army symbol on her jacket. The only logo he spotted was the Capsule Corp. marking on her jacket.
Nice dark hair, dark violet eyes...she's pretty cute actually— The others watched as Krillin suddenly blushed then shook his head as if to dismiss a thought.
"Bulma, when you said dark hair, I thought you meant Android 17." Krillin gave a shrill laugh, which whizzed out awkwardly as he scratched the back of his head.
"But then—" Trunks began inquisitively, still narrowed on Tank. "Who is she?"
Trunks' words seemed to float between them and Tank for a while. Finally, Tank inhaled a calming breath, quickly glancing at four eager faces. "My name is Tank and I'm not from this time." It still felt odd to directly say it, but Tank had said it so many times.
Especially to them.
"What?! It's not possible..." Trunks gawked, his squint gone, his wide eyes staring into Tank.
Gohan whoa-ed, grunting thoughtfully, remembering his disbelief when Trunks first came to their time period to warn them of the androids. Krillin clenched his jaw, his brows shaking, officially overwhelmed with news of this unexpected visitor on top of everything that was happening. Krillin peered up at Trunks' shaky, astonished stance. Even Trunks didn't know about this girl. However, Krillin wasn't willing to be reckless with so much as stake.
"But—how could you two not know each othe—" Krillin began but Tank interrupted him.
"I do know Trunks." Tank answered, causing Gohan and Krillin to whoa again. "Trunks should know me as well."
Trunks' mouth fell open with a bead of sweat running down his temple.
"I know all of you." Tank panned from left to right, meeting eyes with each of them. "Krillin, Trunks, Bulma, Gohan..."
Baby Trunks gave a sudden wail, his tiny face glaring at her. Tank smiled at the baby.
"And of course, baby Trunks." Seeing Trunks as a baby was another thing that Tank couldn't fully wrap her head around. Sure, she had seen pictures, but that was nothing to seeing a live baby bouncing in his mother's arms.
"But I've never met you." Trunks uttered deeply, another bead of sweat gliding to his neck.
It was Tank's turn to groan, but in disappointment. Her focus flickered then dove to the floor, sadly. That confirmed it. She didn't exist in his time.
"Then...how?" Gohan trailed off then broke his gaze on Tank, studying the grain on the floor. The thick tension in his body was just beginning to lessen, yet Gohan was still unsure. They all were.
Tank bit her lip. She knew of a single sure way to convince them—everyone—that she was who she said. One transformation would suffice. But, she still didn't want to give her position away to her enemies.
The eagerness of the four faces in front of her faded into reluctance. Tank didn't need to be told the details of the day to understand the Z warriors' devastation. She always thought introductions were the worst part. However, being the barer of bad news, especially during those trying times, was by far the worst part. Unfortunately, she had ample practice of informing Earth's forces that 17 and 18 were the lesser of their worries.
However, Tank was not going to deliver such despairing news in Bulma's laboratory. She still needed to gain their trust. "Please," everyone lifted their sullen faces due to the supple tone in her voice. "I need to know now where you found this?" She displayed the photograph, reaching out with two hands, pointing to a large structure covered nearly entirely in moss.
Bulma checked the baby in her arms, grinning to see that Trunks had fallen asleep. Tank peeked on the little boy and stifled a giggle when she heard his soft snores. "If you promise not to wake the youngster, you can fly with me." She offered Tank.
"But...mother," Trunks grunted, upset by his mother's willingness to accept the stranger so quickly. "How do you know you can trust her? Especially with taking her to the time machine?" His head then snapped to Tank's direction in obvious suspicion.
"Hmm," Bulma hummed, thinking three years into the past. "The same reason we all trusted you when you came to warn us about the androids. Just a hunch. And so far it hasn't back-fired."
Trunks' fists shook at his sides with uncertainty. "If you're taking her to see the time machine then I'm coming with you." Trunks declared, quickly checking Tank's expression to see if she had unmasked any evil intentions.
During the hushed exchange, Tank glanced about for a writing utensil. She grabbed one and scribbled something on the back of the time-machine photo. She left the photo by the keyboard.
When she felt Trunks' pressing glare, Tank merely wrapped her jacket more tightly around her for the sake of doing something with her hands. Even with the computer fans blowing a constantly thick flow of air in the laboratory, it was hardly cold.
Tank knew that they hadn't realized how grave and imperative the situation was yet and their lack of rush made her restless. However, even if she told them everything, why would they believe her? Maybe, by a lucky twist of fate, Tank had beat the cockroach with time, and maybe she could spare them the burden of knowing.
"Gohan, Krillin?" Trunks whirled to them respectively.
Both didn't need time to consider, they each made noises of agreement in their throats and nodded to Trunks and each other.
The tension between Tank and the three began to grow again. The pressure was building within Tank to share her answers to their questions and for them to answer her questions. Bulma left the lab to prepare the transport, mumbling something about "the more, the merrier."
"Oh, and Tank?" Bulma back-peddled, leaning back by the door to receive acknowledgment from Tank. "If you follow me, I can direct you towards a shower and fresh clothes. We should be..." Bulma glanced over the girl again, "about the same size."
Tank opened her mouth to protest, but even stepping forward reminded her how of dingy her clothes felt against her skin.
Being constantly on the move required certain sacrifices. Tank had perceived many faces of mockery and disapproval from strangers when they saw her unclean and sometimes torn, bloody clothes. In the beginning, she had been persistent in maintaining a perfect routine of regular baths and fresh clothing, but such quickly disappeared for the sake of time and convenience.
Ducking her head as she slide past Gohan, Krillin, and Trunks, Tank followed Bulma upstairs, muttering something like, "needing only a few minutes."
When the girl was gone, Trunks trudged over to the keyboard and snatched up the photograph. He turned it over and read in clear black ink: Be Strong.
Bulma showed Tank the shower area and left a comfortable change of clothes. "Gym clothes I haven't even worn yet," Bulma said as she folded the articles of clothes in a drawer next to the shower with baby Trunks' sleeping head on the neap on her neck.
"I trust you know how to use this shower?" Bulma winked with a smile.
Tank ignored the wink and pretended she hadn't heard the wit in Bulma's statement. "I'll figure it out."
Bulma's smile didn't waver as she took another opportunity to survey Tank's features. Awkwardly, Tank pretended to be smoothing out her dark hair by the reflection of a long mirror.
"Take your time, I still have to get this little guy into his sleeper, change my cellphone, and prepare the plane. That should buy you at least twenty minutes."
"Sorry...I mean, thank you...Bulma." Tank mumbled, earning a soft laugh from Bulma.
"Enjoy your shower, kiddo." With that, Bulma shut the door with her. Tank waited until Bulma's footsteps were no longer audible before she let down her hair. Her normally straight hair kinked awkwardly down her shoulders from being wrapped in a hair clip for so long. She ran her hands through her oily roots, catching loose hairs between her fingers.
As she relaxed, Tank felt a familiar crushing pain in her chest then an expected wave of chills reverberated through her body until she finally yawned. She suspected that the plane ride would be lengthy enough for her get some sleep. Rubbing the purple circles under her eyes, she admitted that she dearly needed sleep. Back home, she had been notorious for having a baby-face, and now she hardly looked babyish with awfully reddened eyes and tired skin. Tank shrugged; if she were more like her mother when she was her age, maybe she would have cared more about her features.
Turning on the water, Tank hoped she could resist the urge to sleep until after she finished showering and dressed. However as the steam fogged the tiny shower room, the overwhelming conclusion of showering in Capsule Corp. and the bewildering introductions weighed heavily on her nerves.
Tank shrugged off her clothes and folded them, truly seeing for the first time how worn and dirty they were. She munched up her nose at the unpleasant smell.
She stepped under the spray of warm water and with sleepy sigh, she imagined her worries being washed away. Regardless of the dire situation, Tank gratefully accepted the time she had to relax for the first time in what seemed like forever.
A pestering, repetitive noise beeped, yanking Tank back into reality. Her chin slammed unpleasantly against her clavicle, forcing her eyes open even as her body ached harshly, declaring that it did NOT want to be awakened. Groaning and drawing in a torso-sized breath, she pressed a side button on her watch, silencing her alarm. The drone of the plane's engines reminded Tank of where she sat.
She crossed her legs, straightening her lazy position, hearing the ruffle of her new deep blue cargo pants. After trying them on, a couple of test-kicks and knee-thrusts made Tank guess that the pants would last for a good while.
Finally peering up, she met Trunks' heeding watch. Even though he sat on the opposing side with Krillin and Gohan, Tank could bet that his sharp gaze was fixed on her. Surely, he hadn't been watching her for the entire flight so far?
Tank yawned sheepishly, dramatically stretching her arms, which announced to Gohan and Krillin that she was awake.
Judging by the apprehensive expression on Trunks' face, Tank figured that he had been watching her the whole time.
You're wasting your energy and time, Trunks, Tank wanted to say to him. I would never harm Bulma.
"You're finally awake?" Gohan stated and asked at the same time. "You were out like a light for about an hour."
Tank rubbed her eyes, which were teary from yawning. Her alarm had been set for an hour and fifteen minutes to be precise. But it felt like she had only been asleep for five minutes. "Are we far now?"
Krillin shook his head meekly. "Not too long ago, Bulma said we were getting close."
Tank glanced out the window for the first time since takeoff; luscious greenery, mountains, and forest stretched out into the distance, worlds away from the sprawling megalopolis of West Capitol.
Bulma announced to prepare for descent.
Tank scanned the deep forest as the ground moved closer and closer, not seeing the machine anywhere. "You don't know the exact location—we're gonna have to look for it." She uttered as a statement rather than a question.
"I guess," Gohan answered, unsure if it were a question. "The photo didn't give many clues."
Trunks watched as Tank's expression transformed from tired to agitated. She gritted her teeth, feverishly clicking her fingernails on her metal armrest. Searching meant flying. Flying meant energy. Energy could be detected in such a short distance. If the machine was near, then the cockroach couldn't be too far away... I'll just have to hide my energy, but that might only reaffirm their suspicions.
The engines hummed the last of their power and the plane was motionless. The locks of the release compressed and Gohan, Krillin, and Trunks zoomed from their chairs into the air. Tank reluctantly followed. She searched the area on foot when a perplexed look from Krillin halted her.
Doesn't she know how to fly? Krillin wondered.
Tank groaned to herself, if she successfully hid her energy, it would ruin their beliefs in her not being an android. With a deep sigh, she excreted a low amount of energy to hover off the ground. Krillin simply turned back once Tank demonstrated her ki. Panning her neck from side to side, Tank searched carefully for any glimmer of the machine. She hoped and prayed that her energy would be camouflaged by their energy.
It wasn't long, thankfully, before Gohan declared his finding the machine. Gohan returned to the plane to carry Bulma over meanwhile Krillin, Tank, and Trunks landed in front of the massive, but impressive machine.
Tank's heart sank, her feet were suddenly as heavy as logs as she stared in a daze at the damage.
The dome had been shattered and charred as if burned. The once yellow casing was covered with a heavy coating of dark green moss. Half of the power sources and engines, Tank figured, either had fallen off or been ripped away, judging by the metallic pieces scattered in the grass like confetti.
Tank stood frozen for a moment while the others easily approached the machine in awe. So much had gone into building that time machine and to perceive it in such a diminished state pained her insides. Eventually she shook her head, even with intensive repairs, the machine may never travel through the fourth dimension again.
She had originally thought that such a conclusion would be relieving, however the aged damage of the dome only churned her stomach. Had she been too optimistic in believing that there had been more time? Surely, her calculations weren't wrong? Was he getting stronger faster than before?
Gohan hovered down, carrying Bulma, and set her down. She tipped the edge of her hat up to absorb the sight of the machine; acknowledging how the photo hadn't justified the damage.
Trunks pressed the stopper on a capsule and tossed it near the standing machine. His time machine, safe and clean, appeared from the smoke. The comparison between the two machines was like night and day. Trunks' machine was significantly smaller and its casing shined a brilliant yellow.
Hands on hips, Bulma stepped closer to further examine the mysterious machine. "Wow! That machine can't be yours then, Trunks. Tank?"
Tank hadn't realized she hadn't been paying attention when she flinched with a start.
Trunks picked a particular leg of the machine and began scrapping off the moss. "This was written before I left." Gohan, Krillin, and Bulma circled around the leg, all reading the inscription in black marker: Hope!
"But wait..." Trunks scrapped off more moss and drew in a sharp take of breath. Just under his mother's inscription was another, in the same exact hand writing from the printed image: Be Strong.
Tank bit her lip as her knees nearly crumbled. For her own sake, she weeded through Gohan and Bulma to touch the stand and inscription. It's really here, it's been so long. The last time I touched this...if only. "I wrote this before the first time I traveled into the past."
Trunks glanced quickly at his own time machine, briefly wondering if his machine had also carried the extra inscription. There was only Hope! "But that's not on my time machine." He mumbled quietly.
"That's because this is not your machine, but ours. From my timeline." Tank touched her cheek, regardless of the dirt and moss, against the stand and inscriptions.
Everyone had stepped back to see the machines with inscriptions as a whole. Gohan tilted his head. "If this is your time machine, then why did you need us to help you find it?"
Tank reached into her jacket breast pocket and handled a capsule holder. Picking a specific capsule, and held it in her hand for show. "This is my time machine. The one I came here with." She pressed the stopper and threw it to an open space. A smaller machine compared to the older one appeared through the smoke with the distinctive words 'DEMO' plastered on the side. Gohan and Krillin quickly circled around the smaller machine but immediately stopped when they noticed the damage. There was a broken stand, a crushed compartment and other things that looked quite important to Krillin and Gohan.
Trunks gazed in awe at the smaller machine. The covering was a slightly duller yellow than the other two machines, yet Trunks thought the machine appeared to be younger than his and the other one. Speaking of older versus younger, Trunks pondered as he looked over to Tank again. She claimed to be from the future but from where in the future? If she insisted that the mysterious time machine is also hers than she must have come from a future even further in time than his timeline. Still, Trunks concluded, that doesn't answer how far she has traveled and who the hell she is.
Krillin crossed his arms in thought at the display of time machines. "Then why is this machine here?"
Tank pressed the hand-sized button on her newer machine and replaced the capsule into the holder. Her expression darkened with profound sorrow and guilt. Krillin and Gohan lowered their heads in respect as bitter memories were refreshed in Tank's mind. With her fingertips, Tank felt the texture of the inscription of older machine, still partially covered with stubborn bits of moss.
Trunks hadn't forgotten his doubts about the girl, but part of him believed her sincerity as she stared longingly at the inscriptions.
The moment presented a justified opportunity to share a bit of her history, yet Tank, trying to compress the crushing pain in her chest and gut, didn't trust that she could compose herself long enough to share the whole story.
With a heavy gulp, Tank realized that those around her could momentarily save the question for another time. However, as her fingers graced along Be Strong, she remembered her reasons for writing that on the time machine. Suddenly, her hand clenched into a tight fist. "This machine was stolen."
There was a sharp intake of breath from behind, but Tank hovered to the dome release, wishing for that the hydraulic presses contained some fuel to open the cockpit. The natural flow of questions generally followed from how? to who? She vaguely heard Krillin mumble his question but ignored it.
"What would be the better question than who." Tank muttered grimly, which drew confused gasp from the bald man.
Trunks and Gohan flew to her side as the machine struggled to open the cockpit. Then with one last effort, the glass-like cover levered up. Trunks scrambled into the cockpit, peering through the massive hole in the dome.
Circling around him, Trunks wondered if his machine were smaller. "Two seats? Which means you weren't alone when you went to the past...?"
Tank and Gohan weren't listening as both pairs of eyes were fixed on two bright purple spiky pieces. Trunks followed their stare and gingerly lifted the two pieces.
"What is it? It looks like a coconut shell." Gohan leaned over, blinking at the odd halves. He hadn't seen the expression of surprise face on the girl next to him. "You know what it is, Tank?"
Tank simply shook her head. "I've never seen those before."
"Hey! Let us see!" Bulma held up her hands and Gohan passed the spiky shells to Bulma and Krillin.
They carefully inspected the pieces, Bulma held her piece over her head to fully see the inside while Krillin poked the spikes. Bulma finally took Krillin's piece and pushed them together. "A small center, matching size, protective casing...yep, this is an egg shell. I'm sure of it!"
Krillin gaped at the egg. "What sort of thing would come out of that?"
Gohan turned back to the machine, thinking of the size of the egg, but the even larger hole in the dome.
Tank landed on the ground. "Bulma, can you determine how long ago that egg hatched?"
"Hmm," Bulma opened the egg shell again to search for any clues of age. "Not visually, no, but if I brought it back to the lab, I could do an oxidization test."
Tank sighed softly to herself, but then remembered that the age of the shell might not be a good indication after all. There was only one shell in the machine, which could have meant that there had only been one devolution back to egg-form. Unless the other egg shells had been lost...
"Trunks!" Tank twisted back to Gohan and Trunks who were still examining the cockpit for clues. "Check the most recent date of origin." While the others were absorbed in sorting out her inquiry, no one noticed Tank twisting back, suddenly distracted by something in the distance.
Trunks sat in the navigator's chair and powered the computers. "The battery gauge is almost zero. Wha-?"
Gohan rushed to Trunks' side in the other seat. "What is it, Trunks?"
"18th of May, year 766. But that's not..." Trunks pointed to the oldest date.
Gohan read, but didn't know the significance. "Trunks..." He tapped the older Saiyan's shoulder.
"What does it say, Trunks?!" Krillin shouted from the ground, resisting the urge to fly up to see for himself.
Bulma peeked up, hand over her hat to block the glare of the afternoon sun. "What's going on?!"
"Age 787... That's two years ahead of my time. Tank, can you explain this?" Trunks stood on the edge of the cockpit, just in time to see Tank sprinting towards the cover of the trees far ahead. "She's running!" He exclaimed, causing a rushed turn of heads toward Tank. In anger, his power flared in a blue aura around him, damning himself for nearly trusting her.
"What the—hey!" Bulma yelled as the three men around her bolted from their positions in flying pursuit of Tank. "Wait for me! Agh! Not everybody can fly you know!" The young mother groaned then rushed after them.
Tank randomly stopped, partially covered by the brush. Trunks was first after her; he so nearly tackled her but shouts from Gohan and Krillin halted Trunks.
"Agh, what is it?!"
"DISgusting!"
In front of them, lay a shell that looked like it belonged to a gargantuan-sized cicada.
Tank balled her hands into fists, grounding her teeth, only realizing the presence of the others as they individually walked into her view. Tank heard hasty footsteps approaching from behind then an ear-drum piercing scream.
"KYAAAHHH!" Bulma hid behind Trunks, but peeked over his shoulder. "What is that thing?! Ewww, it reeks!"
Slowly, Gohan and Krillin inched around the bug-like mass.
"Is it...dead?" Krillin squeezed his nose as he proceed closer but slowly to scrutinize the shell.
Gohan tested the weight of the thing by pushing the slimy skin apart to determine the inside. There was nothing inside, no organs, no exoskeleton, just slime. "It's not dead, just a shed skin."
Bulma inhaled with relief and slowly revolved around the skin, but still refused to touch it. "Just skin? I didn't know cicadas could get this big..."
"I don't think this is a cicada, Bulma." Krillin wiped the sweat from his forehead, noting how the beast's shell was twice his size.
Gohan sat to see the imprinted face of the shell. The round shapes that Gohan thought to be eyes were larger than his outstretched hand. A long vertical mouth touched the ground next to Gohan's feet. "There aren't any cicadas like this."
Finally Tank ripped the opening of the skin further apart and dipped an arm inside. She held her arm up to the sun, dripping with purple slime. She rubbed the slime between her fingers and palm; it was a gooey mixture of casing moisture and blood. Her cringing doubled into a grimace.
The slime was very watery and as a general rule of thumb, if the slime had not solidified yet, then the hatching from skin had to be recent. From feeling the dripping consistency of the slime, Tank had to estimate the hatching only being 4 hours, up to 8 hours prior to their finding.
Tank shuddered. If only she had known where the time machine was hiding, she could have destroyed him while in a defenseless egg-state. Then it would have been all over...
"Damn! I just missed him!" Tank cringed, flicking her arm to remove the gluey slime. Her arms pumping at her sides, her energy involuntarily soaring, fueled by uncontrollable frustration. Stray pieces of her hair flowed around her ears as a blue aura surrounded her. Gohan, Krillin, and Bulma unconsciously fell back from the surprise of Tank's power.
Trunks covered his face from the explosion of dust and shielded his mother with the span of his extended arm. Tank's earlier words resounded in his mind, "I'm human." Just human?! Trunks nearly shouted aloud, feeling her power jump higher than any human he had ever encountered.
Gohan squinted and dug his feet into the ground to remain standing. All previous doubts of Tank being one of Gero's androids evaporated away as Gohan could sense every ounce of her energy. Threat or not, she was not an android.
Krillin gulped as her power level soared above his maximum level. Just minutes before he had assumed that she wasn't skilled enough to fly, let alone be more powerful than him. As soon as Krillin extended his senses to determine the limit of her strength, her power diminished.
Just as soon as her energy spiked, Tank shut her eyes and inhaled deeply to reach a tranquil center and her aura was gone. After another calming breath, Tank smoothed her hair then ducked her head to avoid the gazes of those around.
"Excuse me...for that." She muttered, hoping to hide her embarrassment. "I was so close." The volume of her words faded into a faint whisper, but with her obvious restrain on her frustration and disappointment, her voice shook as she shivered from fear. "He's in his humanoid form now. This changes everything... I really thought—"
"Tank," Bulma pat a comforting hand on Tank's shoulder. "What's going on? Can you explain what that thing is?"
Tank gulped then slowly turned back and met dire eyes with Bulma, Gohan, Krillin, and finally, Trunks. Tank had already explained this new threat and dealt with their fearful reactions many times. She quickly glanced at all of them once more. No matter how many timelines she had hopped through, their reactions never differed.
"Let's begin by saying that as of now, Androids 17 and 18 are the lesser of your worries-"
The ground quaked beneath them when a thunderous roar erupted from the outskirts of the closest town. Bulma yelped from the noise and from Tank yanking the mother into her arms for protection. The five of them hovered into the air as the ground cracked deep rifts in the mountainous earth.
"What gives!" Bulma cried. "Seismic activity is rare here!"
Gohan, Trunks, Krillin and Tank fixed their attention to the edge of the town, all immediately covering their eyes as a bright yellow blast engulfed their sight of the town. Another explosion and the crushing of the town's tallest building.
"Androids?!" Trunks shouted absolutely to his comrades through the explosion, peering through the protection of his arms.
Krillin remembered how Androids 17 and 18 openly declared their goal of finding Goku. "Doesn't make sense-there's not way they found Goku yet-"
Another row of buildings crumbled into rubbish as a thick cloud of dust blew in all directions. Gohan gritted his teeth before exclaiming, "It could only be them, right?"
"No, it's something else."
From being hugged tightly, Bulma could feel Tank's quivers, which only caused Bulma to squeeze even tighter to suppress her own bout of trembling. Krillin, Trunks and Gohan circled around and caught Tank's waggling lip, wide eyes, and clenched jaw-an expression crudely contorted with anger and fear.
Le sigh. The one difficult thing about introductions is that it makes it almost impossible to immediately shift the timeline. I am happy that there is already evidence of her interference in the story late in this chapter. Anyway, please tell me what you thought so far! Con-crit pretty please!