Too late

"I've run outta fic!" (aww! )

Yes, hello! It's me! I'm sorry I've let you all down so long,. But I still haven't found a betareader, and that means I havta recheck the story myself.. ten times over. Also, I had a hard time starting.. just didn't know where to begin!

But I finally did. (after erasing the whole story about 3 times)

Oh, well. It's not much. But it's the interlude. So now I can tie ends together and get on with it! I hope..

"the hand that feeds me", interlude.

Too late.

If there had been anything they could have done, it was too late now. Two weeks it had taken their squad to race across the galaxy; to return home. But there was nothing left of it now.

It shouldn't have mattered.

No; that wasn't true. It should matter. But it shouldn't have hurt.

It was impossible, incredibly stupid. But that was it; it hurt.

Like somehow some enemy had managed to reach the pit of his stomach, and crush his insides.

The Saiyi-jin commander hardly saw the space-debris in front of him; too busy with idle things as vision as he unexplainably suffocated.

Commander Aubry actually couldn't breathe, though even he didn't understand why. When he was sure none of his squad were looking, he even checked his oxygen mask for errors. It was fine; he was fine. But it still hurt. He still hurt.

More then any battle he'd ever been in.

Feeling like he was going to collapse, the young Saiyi-jin commander put a fist in his stomach, trying to massage out the stinging. He couldn't get sick now; his crew needed him.

Then, across the empty ink of space, his general screamed. Loud and long and angrily, the man's loud battle cry rung in his ears. But what could there be left to battle out here, among these worthless hunks of dead space-debris? It didn't matter. Any challenge was welcome right now.

Aubry –almost relieved to have something else to do but feel- made haste to obey the call.

His general: there was another one that needed him.

The young commander shot off, using his ki for propulsion, dodging the dead rocks that had once been his home; all their homes. There, he found the big Saiyi-jin, already surrounded by his little troop. 20 odd young soldiers, and the other commander, Geron. But no enemy.

Of course not. There were no enemies in this battle; only a comet.

And the comet was already dead, blown to pieces by the impact. If it hadn't been, this last batch of Saiyi-jins would have hunted it down, and blown it to dust. Yes; childish, to take revenge on a rock. But it would have been better then this.

But then again, anything would have been better then this, Aubry amended, as he looked at the faces of his twelve. Behind those masks, he could still discern their shock. And he felt pity for them even more then for himself: little more then boys, but the last of their kind. The last, left in a wake of destruction, a death that held no honour.

No war; no last battle.

Just a stupid, stupid piece of rock.

Turning his attention to their general, Aubry finally noticed just what the big Saiyi-jin was standing over. This was more then just space-debris, this where the remains of some sort of vessel. The general shook a little, like short chuckles shook his frame, then straightened. He met the big, blurry man's red-rimmed eyes only a moment, before looking down to see what he had uncovered.

All thoughts on how perhaps their general, too, was getting sick left him as he looked at the scraped piece of metal.

All conscious though all-together did.

Only the number on that piece of metal stuck to his mind. Stuck there like a damming curse. Every Saiyi-jin in the army knew that number; the number of their fastest little fighting vessel. It was the number of the ship that would have been first to leave the planet to evacuate, the ship that would have made it to safety the fastest.

The number placed right under the royal insignia.

When he became aware again, he found that the sick feeling had increased tenfold; Aubry felt like both his lungs had popped, and he knew he was shaking all over. He could hardly even see. Stupidly, childishly he looked for old Geron for help. As no doubt all their green rookies did. But he wasn't a rookie, and Geron couldn't help.

Could not tell them what to do, this time.

To everyone's surprise, it was actually their general that came up with an answer for once.

"The prince." He rumbled, obviously distraught. "The prince is still alive; Freeza has him. The prince is safe."

The big Saiyi-jin general seemed to grow another foot as he squared his back, giving them all some shred of hope with this statement. Telling them what to do in this darkest hour. "We will rally to the prince. He will know what to do."

Even Aubry breathed a sign of relieve.

But with hope, so did reason return to him. "But general." He heard himself speak. "The prince is just a six year old brat, and under Freeza's -." He caught himself at Geron's shake of the head: A silent warning not to point out the obvious now. Not to their general.

The man was –well- a great warrior, with terrific power and speed.

But also.. mentally challenged. To take away this last shred of hope. It would drive his rather dense mind mad.

And this wasn't even taking into account what it would do to their young soldiers.

"You're right, General Nappa. The prince will know what to do."