Chapter 2: Planet Chandarin

After his conversation with the Supreme Kai, Trunks had tried once again to get some rest. Only this time he had actually made it to the living quarters before falling asleep. For what had seemed like an eternity, Trunks' subconscious finally found itself gaining much needed rest. He slept deeply and for many hours, seemingly dreamless. As he rested, his ship drew nearer to its destination.

Many hours later, Trunks found himself emerging back to consciousness. He silently rose from his bed, picked up his necklace, and walked back to the navigation deck. As he walked, he briefly reflected on his argument with the Supreme Kai earlier. Had he been too harsh? He shrugged it off as he entered the room where the NavCom screen was lit up with notices.

"Destination reached!" flashed the notice across the top of the screen.

Below the notice, three-dimensional possible course plots among the solar systems were set up in a split-screen fashion. Trunks took a moment to study the different course plots.

"NavCom," Trunks began, "scan nearest system, and display planets based on levels of sustained terrestrial life."

"Scanning…" responded the NavCom.

After a patient forty five seconds, the scan completed. After a brief notice message, the screen began displaying each planet in the nearest solar system and its sustained life levels. Trunks studied the screen, unimpressed with his findings. Five unnamed planets in an unnamed solar system, among them only one planet with a life level high enough to be populated.

"Looks like that's it," Trunks said to himself with a sigh. "NavCom, set a direct course for the second planet, then execute."

Trunks didn't wait for the NavCom's response, he had already turned and headed for the ladder to the cockpit. From the view of the cockpit, Trunks could see the tiny planet a mere half hour away. It was much smaller than Earth and grey in color. The nearer the ship got to the planet, the more information flooded over Trunks' screens in the cockpit. As Trunks studied the information, he began to formulate a more vivid picture of the destination planet.

The planet seemed to be more concrete than organic, suggesting a high level of urban setting and organization. Atmosphere was normal, gravity estimated at roughly six times that of Earth. Trunks guessed it was probably one of the few city-planets he had heard of but never actually seen. It took a small planet and a vast city to make a city-planet, but apparently it was possible.

As the ship made its final approach on the planet before attempting to pass through the highest atmosphere, the thought dawned on Trunks. He had failed to ask Goku what type of planet the Namekians lived on. His only reference had been Piccolo from the past, and that had certainly not been concern at the time. He thought for a moment about Piccolo. The Namekian had certainly not seemed like the kind of creature that originated from a vast city. But then his birthplace had been on Earth as well. It was no use; Trunks had no idea what type of planet he was looking for, and he was already entering atmosphere anyway. He decided it didn't matter anyway, one quick look around the planet and he would know if it was the right one or not.

As he neared the planet's surface, he felt a strange aura flush over him. Then he remembered. He took out his shell necklace from his thigh pocket. The shell glowed a very light shade of red, a kind of pinkish color. At first, Trunks found himself alarmed, but then his anxiety subsided into a sort of understanding.

"Maybe I am headed the right way," Trunks said to himself.

Trunks felt immediately relieved. He smiled at his necklace and reassured himself that Shell was watching over him. He was sure that she was guiding him to the way he needed to go.

"Transport ship, identify yourself!" suddenly broke Trunks' concentration as it blasted over the speaker system. "I repeat, identify yourself!"

Trunks hesitated for a moment, but then responded through the transponder, "Transport ship is a non hostile. I repeat a non hostile. I'm just trying to get some directions, gentlemen. Permission to put down?"

There was a momentary pause, and Trunks suddenly got a bad feeling. Discouragingly enough, it was not the first time Trunks had felt it. Something was not right.

"Very well," the speakers suddenly blared back. "You will put down in hanger bay 371098; we're sending you the coordinates now."

"Thank you very much," Trunks replied as he downloaded the coordinates into the course plot, and allowed the NavCom to make the necessary adjustments.

Trunks contemplated with himself before landing. He could just take off and try another planet. But that would get him no closer to his goal; he would still be flying blindly. Yet he still felt uncomfortable. He felt safer carrying the Z Sword with him, but that would not be very diplomatic. Most non hostiles don't get off their ship with a sword. He decided that after landing, he would lock the sword up in his quarters below and then lock down his ship before leaving. If it was searched, everything would be safe.

After landing and securing his ship, Trunks activated the side hatch of the ship with a loud hissing noise. The ladder descended automatically. Trunks suppressed his power level to avoid any unwanted attention, and began to climb down the ladder. His foot was not three rungs from the bottom when he suddenly felt a terrible, hard pressure on the side of his neck. He reached his left hand towards his neck and felt a small projectile protruding from a small entrance wound. Before he could respond, he was on the ground, hearing a hollow thud echo through his body from the fall. His vision began to narrow and darken, and his hearing began to fade like an echo in a long hallway. As he stared up at the ceiling, a group of men gathered over him.

One blurred figure grunted, "Welcome to Chandarin, pirate."

Trunks passed out.

"Hey!" a voice resounded in Trunks' mind. "Hey! Wake up!"

"Shell," Trunks whispered softly, still fleeting in and out of consciousness.

"What?" the soft voice resounded. "Wake up!"

The last of the female voice's words were met with a stinging sensation on the side of Trunks' face. Trunks grunted loudly as he awoke and focused his eyes. It was a girl. Young and quite pretty, she had brown eyes and red-brown hair, cut short. She was wearing what would have been ordinary clothes, however shredded and somewhat revealing.

"What… Where am I?" Trunks asked slowly.

"In jail," she said bluntly. "Welcome to Chandarin, I guess. We've got to get out of here, now."

Trunks looked himself over quickly. His armor was still intact, not too surprising, considering its durability. He checked the density of his pockets. His necklace and access card to the ship were still there. Obviously they didn't check him for weapons.

"How long have I been out?" Trunks asked.

"I don't know," she replied. "You weren't here when I went to sleep, and you were when I woke up. But we don't have time to get to know each other; we have to get out of this place."

Trunks looked around again. Their cell was armor hulled. It would take an immense blast, likely killing them in the process, just to break through. The only openings were small ventilation shafts some twenty feet high.

"There's no way out," Trunks claimed.

"Well we'd better find one then," the girl replied quickly. "I'm a traitor and you're obviously not welcome here. I suspect our executions will be soon."

Trunks paused. He began to sense the area around him. The girl had a fairly high power level, he guessed somewhere in the tens of thousands; very impressive he thought, given her small figure. Small, but definitely nothing short of attractive. Beyond her, beyond the walls, they were in a large complex. He could tell that his sword was not many miles away so he was still in the vicinity of the hangar; that was good.

"Are we going to get out of here now?" she interrupted. "Or do you plan on meditating until they come for us?"

Trunks broke his concentration and looked down at her. He didn't answer. Rather, he changed his focus to the door. He walked over to it and drew back to kick it.

"I wouldn't do that either," she said, again halting his actions. "It's electric. You'll be turned to dust if you do it that way."

"Well then what the hell do you suggest?" Trunks shouted, losing patience.

"If I knew, don't you think I would be out of here already?" she shouted back, her brown eyes never faltering. "Men," she sighed, "all they know how to do to fix something is break shit."

Trunks' eyes narrowed noticeably. "Women," he muttered turning back to the door, "all they know how to do is b–."

"Screw you!" she shouted again.

"Would you shut up?" Trunks snapped. "I can't think with you bi–, er, I can't…" He sighed. "Please be quiet."

"On second thought," she said softly, much calmer, "why don't you go ahead and take a swing at that door. Do us both a favor."

Trunks sighed and lowered his head. She was quickly growing less and less attractive to him. Her arrogance was turning his stomach. He decided to ignore her and work quietly. Unfortunately, his subsequent study of his predicament showed up no better results. Out of ideas and against the girl's warning, Trunks suddenly took a swing at the door.

After a blaze of sharp, blue sparks, Trunks found himself on the floor with his cellmate at his side. He couldn't move well, and was breathing irregularly.

"Are you stupid?" she asked frantically. "I warn you not to try to kill yourself, and then you do it anyway! You should have been incinerated at that voltage! And what would you have done if I hadn't known how to resuscitate you? I really can't believe you're still alive!"

"You had to resuscitate me?" Trunks asked, surprised. It had only felt like he had just hit the ground when he came to.

"Yeah I did," she answered. "And don't worry I don't have cooties, but don't get any ideas either."

"Thank you," Trunks replied, ignoring her answer.

"You're welcome," the girl said hesitantly. "Are you okay? You scared the hell out of me."

"I'm fine," Trunks said as he got up. "Thank you though."

Suddenly he froze. He could feel his necklace glowing, and took it out of his pocket to verify it.

"What's that?" the girl asked him.

"It means we are about to have company," Trunks immediately answered. "Look the only idea I have is this. I'm going to pretend that I'm still out from the shock. You tell them that you've stabilized my breathing but that's all. When they attempt to carry me out, I'll take care of them ok? Just keep down when the fighting starts and don' get caught in the crossfire."

She nodded in understanding.

"Alright, act like you're trying to help me okay?" Trunks instructed and fell to the ground.

She hesitated but as soon as the locks sounded on the door, she lowered her head onto Trunks as if trying to resuscitate him. As soon as her lips touched Trunks, his eyes snapped open. He looked at her for a split second with a look of shock, and she stared back. When the door began to open, he immediately closed them again and listened as the girl told their story to the guards in an almost overly dramatic fashion.

Why had she done that? She didn't have to do that to be convincing. She was getting too close; too close for comfort. He didn't like it. The girl was finished with her act, and it was almost time for Trunks to act. He waited patiently for the feeling of the guards lifting his dead weight.

"Why should we care if he is okay or not?" one guard asked the girl.

"Because there's a bomb on his ship, and it's a failsafe in case something happens to him," she lied. "If you don't cooperate with him, this whole planet will be blown out of the galaxy! He told me about it when he was awake."

"What the hell is she doing?!" thought Trunks.

"I don't think so, little girl," the second guard argued. "His ship was scanned as soon as he passed over the city. Not only was it clean, but he's drivin' a transport ship! Those things have no weapons on them at all! What a fool! Traveling this side of the galaxy with no way to protect himself; it's not surprising that he was dumb enough to try to electrocute himself as well!"

The two guards laughed together for a moment.

"It's okay though," the first guard said as his laughter subsided. "We're going to help your little friend out. He's going to get the opportunity to be executed along with you, that way you two won't be separated."

Their laughter continued. Without warning, the girl lashed out kicking the nearest guard in the groin, dropping him instantly. She swung at the second guard, but he dodged her blow and backhanded her into the floor. She landed with a gasp, losing her wind.

"Insolent bitch!" the guard cried. "Do you really want to speed up the time of your execution?"

"Let me through," the wounded guard shouted as he forced his way past his comrade. "Little bitch!" he snarled, "For that, I should really return the favor! Tell me, how would you feel about losing your dignity before you die? Hold her!" he commanded his friend.

Before the guard had made one step toward the girl on the floor, he was tossed through the doorway of the jail cell, and pinned to the wall of the corridor outside by an energy beam. Trunks had been on his feet in an instant, and before gravity had pulled the man's lifeless body to the floor, the Saiyan had dug his knee deep into the second guard's gut, pushing him toward the doorway. As the two cleared the doorway, Trunks backed his knee out of the man's stomach, and brought both fists together down hard on the back of the man's head, driving him swiftly into the concrete floor with a loud crack.

It had happened so fast that the girl hadn't been able to see what happened. But as she looked away from the fallen guards in the hallway, Trunks was standing over her with outstretched hand.

"Are you okay?" Trunks asked quietly.

"I–I…" she stuttered in response.

Trunks almost smiled, and then reached down to lift her to her feet. She immediately clung to him in a hug. Trunks couldn't tell if she was crying but he felt it proper to pat her back with one hand to try to comfort her.

"It's okay," Trunks reassured her. "You're fine n–!"

He was cut off by the girl quickly looking up and kissing him mid-sentence.

Surprised, he quickly pushed her off. "Don't!" Trunks half shouted.

Her face frowned, crushingly.

"I'm sorry," Trunks apologized. "But please don't do that."

"Fine!" she snorted. "Suppose you only did that cause you owed me one, huh? I understand."

"No," Trunks began. "I, oh never mind!" he sighed blowing it off. "Let's go."

"Fine," she agreed angrily.

Trunks rolled his eyes, and motioned for her to follow as he left the cell and took off down the corridor. With him out of eyeshot around the corner, she frowned deeply and wiped the wetness from the corner of her eye.

They must have run blindly through the complex for fifteen minutes. Sneaking past guards and looking for exits, Trunks and the girl whose name he didn't even know weaved in and out of corridors. Frankly, he didn't care to know. He just wanted to find the ship, or at least something that could tell him where to find the ship. Soon his prayers were answered, because they stumbled into a control room. He looked around quickly, and then ran to a nearby computer console.

"What are you doing?" the girl asked in a whisper.

"I'm looking for my ship," he answered.

"We'll need to disable their antiaircraft weapons if we're gonna get away by ship," she informed him.

"What do you mean we?" Trunks asked immediately. "Isn't this planet your home?"

"No," the girl replied, not in a whisper. "You couldn't pay me to live on this shit hole."

Trunks mentally noted to himself of her esteemed class with words.

"So you're a prisoner on a foreign planet?" he inquired. "How'd you manage that? Your pleasant and diplomatic speech skills?"

"My home planet is at war with this one," she answered with disgust. "I'm an important chess piece on my planet, so they figured I'd make good bartering clay. But since we're stuck on the elegance of the way I talk, I've got a question for you, lavender."

Trunks looked up from the screen.

"What's a thin, muscular guy with long purple hair and wearing black spandex who has a come-apart whenever a girl kisses him, do to end up in a jail cell unconscious? You went on a dating website and based on your criteria they figured you'd find your best match unconscious on the floor of a prison cell didn't they? It's okay; it's don't ask, don't tell these days, isn't it?"

Trunks was through being nice.

"You know I don't even know your name, and you've kissed me twice in the last hour," Trunks retorted. "And since we're on the subject, maybe the real reason you're so pissed off is because I kept those assholes off of you back in the jail. Maybe your real plan was just to leave me to pretend to be unconscious while you got l–!"

He couldn't finish his sentence for the extremely sharp slap of the girl's hand across his face.

"I should have let you die," she said grimly and turned with tears swelling again as she walked off down a nearby passageway.

Maybe that was a bit harsh. Had he been too angry with her? Trunks sighed inwardly and looked back at the computer screen. As he searched for his ship he thought to himself. No, she was the one that had started it. She deserved to be mad. He didn't come to the planet to play hero, he was on his own mission. He didn't need her, and she was not any asset to his goal. If anything she was in the way. But then, why did he feel somewhat guilty about it? Something wasn't right. Then he felt it.

He took his necklace out of his thigh pocket to verify it. The shell was lightly glowing with a pinkish glow. He looked around quickly. Why would an entire control room be empty? He was meant to come this way; which meant he was being tracked. He quickly tucked his necklace into his shoulder pocket to keep it close enough to his head to see the glow when it showed. The computer screen flashed the location of his ship. It was southeast of his location, conveniently the exact opposite direction the girl had just left in.

Frustrated, he stood up and started towards the passageway in the direction of his ship. The glow from within his pocket dimmed as he neared the corridor. He stopped for a moment, reconsidering. He turned to look back at the way the girl had left. She would slow him down; he knew this.

"Trunks," he told himself aloud, "this will be the last good deed you do today. You're getting soft."

As he walked across the room towards the hallway, the glow from his pocket grew slightly.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Shell," he whispered.

With that, he bolted down the hallway after the girl who probably hated him. After not more than three turns, he was met with a small army of blaster-wielding guards and the young girl from the cell. They were holding her at gun point.

"I think we've played cat and mouse for long enough," the senior-most guard stated confidently. "Now if you'll just come quietly, we won't have to lay waste to you and your girlfriend here."

"Go ahead," the girl spoke up. "Just blow them all to hell, and get out of here. We both know you can do it, so just go."

He couldn't attack them for fear of getting the girl hurt in the crossfire. In the back of his mind, he argued that she was slowing him down. He smiled inwardly, and readied to attack as fast as he could.

However, before he could make his move, he felt his necklace pushing outward from his pocket. In response to Shell's warning, he released his tension and relaxed his clenched fists.

"You win this round," he said with a smirk to the senior guard.

The two adjacent guards stepped forward and chained Trunks' hands together. Then, they led the Saiyan and the young lady away down the hallway.

"I'm sure you didn't come back to apologize," the girl criticized.

"You had the car keys," Trunks replied cynically.

She rolled her eyes noticeably.

"And I wanted to apologize," he added with a smile.

"It's okay; I'm sorry too. Just get us out of this," she whispered back.

"I have a plan," Trunks said confidently.

"Oh, well that's good," she said sarcastically. "Getting caught was part of the plan right? Good, I was beginning to worry."

Trunks smiled. She would never change.

"Shut up, you two!" shouted the guard, interrupting.

The rest of the walk was done in silence.