Nope, still don't own DBZ or any of it's characters. Although, I still
own my fighting gi. I'm still trying to master the Kamehameha wave, or at
least keep people from staring at me when I try and fry a smart-aleck store
clerk. One of these days it's going to work and then they will fear me!
Muahahahahahahaha! Oh, um.. Ok, on to the story…
Trunks slowly floated down to the floor of the hanger, both he and Vegeta stared at each other for what seemed like a millennium.
Finally, Trunks broke the silence. "So father, you were going to leave without so much as a "So long brat??"
"No son, the fact is that I was just about to contact you and your sister to say goodbye. Quite frankly though, it's really none of your business what I do."
Trunks nodded his head knowing that Vegeta's pride was still in effect. "So, just where, and why, are you going, if I may be so nosey"
"Well, if you must know, I'm going to New Namek and use their dragonballs to wish for a warrior's death, so I can shuffle off this moral coil with honor. Anything is better than ending up like.. like.."
"Like Kirillen?" Trunks offered.
"Yes, like Kirillen!" Vegeta wailed. Vegeta's thoughts turned back to his birthday party, and to the point where his sort of plan became, "The Plan". Age had not treated Kirillen with any respect what so ever. Thirteen years ago, Kirillen was diagnosed with Parkinson Disease. In the years since, his physical and mental health has been a slow deterioration. Kirillen was at his party, wheelchair bound, barely able to hold his head up. He didn't really know any of his friends anymore, except for Gohan. And even at that, Gohan was still the eleven year-old boy that defeated Cell to him. Other than that, he would only sporadically recognize the others, usually placing them at different points in their younger lives. Vegeta could no longer bring himself to heckle the old warrior anymore. He just felt…. Pity? Sadness? Fear? Vegeta was still not used to such emotions and couldn't quite put a label on it. Deep down, however, he know it was mostly fear. "There for the grace of Dendi goes I.." 18, of course, would never age, so some years ago she took a course in theatrical make-up. Went all the way to Hollywood to learn from the best. She makes herself up to look as old as Kirillin. Vegeta overheard her tell Bulma once years ago that it requires two hours every morning, with frequent touch-ups during the day to maintain the look. That's one dedicated mate.
"Just like Kirillin." Vegeta repeated in a soft voice, his hands falling to his sides, turning his back on his son.
Trunks regarded his father's back for a few seconds. Then whispered;
"Do not go gently into that goodnight"
"What?" Vegeta asked.
Then, with a stronger voice, Trunks continued.
"Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."
Trunks voice suddenly found more confidence, and power!
"Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."
Trunks regarded his father for another few seconds. Tears were steadily streaming down his face. "If this is what you truly wish to do, the family will not stand in your way."
Vegeta had turned back around to face his son about half way through the poem. His jaw slack, his eyes stared in disbelief. "Trunks, my son! You finally understand what it is to be a Saiyan Warrior! That prose! Where did you hear that?"
"Hehehe.. Remember that college poetry class that you said was stupid, and would turn me into a soft baka human?" Trunks asked.
"Y-you mean that was written by a human!" Vegeta exclaimed.
"Yes, by a human named Dylan Thomas." Trunks offered.
Vegeta sighed. "These damned, baka humans, always a surprise!"
Vegeta suddenly, impulsively, closed the distance between him and his son until they were within arms reach of each other.
"Do you recall what I said before I tried to take out Buu the first time?" Vegeta asked.
"You asked me to take care of mother." Trunks answered.
"Well, this time I'm leaving you with far greater responsibilities." Vegeta looked into Trunk's blue eyes. "This time your responsibilities are no less then the protection of this entire mud ball. As I go, so goes the last pureblooded Saiyans. You, and your son are strong, capable warriors; I have no doubt that I'm leaving this world in capable hands. I have always been proud of you Trunks."
"Thank you, I have always been proud to be the son of the Saiyan no Ouji."
Vegeta turned away to blink back the tears he felt forming, only to find he was too late, they had been flowing down his cheeks for some time. "No, he thought, for once I will not be ashamed of my feelings!" He turned back towards Trunks without wiping the tears away. As he turned, he found himself embraced in his son's strong arms; Vegeta returned the embrace with a force that would have turned any normal human to mush. No one spoke; no one wanted to spoil the moment. The embrace lasted a long time. There were no bubble-gum colored super strong monsters coming to kill them this time. Finally, Vegeta broke the silence. "Goodbye my only son – see you on the other side."
"Goodbye father – I hope you find what you're looking for."
With that Trunks brought out a remote and pressed in a code, the overhead launch doors began to iris open. Trunks powered up a bit and started flying towards the door. "Wait Trunks! How did you find out about this? I told that baka Roger not to…." Trunks cut his Father off, "No Dad, for a human, Roger is quite surprising, I could probably beat him to death and he would have kept his word to you."
"Damned, another surprising human!" Vegeta exclaimed. "So how did you find out?"
"The fuel receipts" Trunks replied. "Space Aviation Fuel isn't exactly the most plentiful or least expensive of CC's products. Every fuel receipt must come to the President's desk for inspection, and I just happen to be CC's President. When so much was ordered for this monstrosity, I was immediately suspicious."
"I see.,," Vegeta mused.
"Of course, I had been expecting something along these lines for quite some time. You're not exactly the least transparent man on Earth you know." Trunks smirked.
"What? I thought I've been pretty good at hiding my feelings!" Vegeta exclaimed.
"Hehehehe.. As a long time student of Vegetatology, lesson number one states that the effort that Vegeta spends hiding his emotions, is also the very thing that makes him so transparent. Hahahaha! When Bra and I were both pretty young, we started a whole book of Vegetaisms, we called them. We still add to it, from time to time"
"So, you think you know all about your father now eh?" Vegeta asked with the classic smirk.
"Humph! Who could possibly know everything about the Prince of all the Saiyans!" Trunks replied with his own smirk.
"Good answer brat." Vegeta replied.
"Well Dad, I gotta go. This place doesn't exactly run itself you know." Trunks stated flatly.
Trunks turned to continue his flight, but had no more than cleared the hanger doors when Vegeta suddenly phased in about ten or so feet in front of him. Vegeta immediately powered up to Super Saiyan, and then to Super Saiyan 2. Vegeta lowered himself into a fighting stance. "One more time brat, for old times sake?"
Trunks lowered himself into his own fighting stance, mirroring his fathers, and powered up to Super Saiyan 2 matching Vegeta's power level exactly, as well as the matching smirks. "You got it old man, let's see if you still got anything." Trunks challenged.
"One more thing before we start brat." Vegeta had an even larger smirk than normal.
"Yeah old man?" Trunks trying to match his father's smirk.
"I love you son." Vegeta stated flatly, and meant it. Then he attacked.
Trunks would be a few weeks recovering from the subsequent mistake of letting his father shock him to such a distraction.
Trunks slowly floated down to the floor of the hanger, both he and Vegeta stared at each other for what seemed like a millennium.
Finally, Trunks broke the silence. "So father, you were going to leave without so much as a "So long brat??"
"No son, the fact is that I was just about to contact you and your sister to say goodbye. Quite frankly though, it's really none of your business what I do."
Trunks nodded his head knowing that Vegeta's pride was still in effect. "So, just where, and why, are you going, if I may be so nosey"
"Well, if you must know, I'm going to New Namek and use their dragonballs to wish for a warrior's death, so I can shuffle off this moral coil with honor. Anything is better than ending up like.. like.."
"Like Kirillen?" Trunks offered.
"Yes, like Kirillen!" Vegeta wailed. Vegeta's thoughts turned back to his birthday party, and to the point where his sort of plan became, "The Plan". Age had not treated Kirillen with any respect what so ever. Thirteen years ago, Kirillen was diagnosed with Parkinson Disease. In the years since, his physical and mental health has been a slow deterioration. Kirillen was at his party, wheelchair bound, barely able to hold his head up. He didn't really know any of his friends anymore, except for Gohan. And even at that, Gohan was still the eleven year-old boy that defeated Cell to him. Other than that, he would only sporadically recognize the others, usually placing them at different points in their younger lives. Vegeta could no longer bring himself to heckle the old warrior anymore. He just felt…. Pity? Sadness? Fear? Vegeta was still not used to such emotions and couldn't quite put a label on it. Deep down, however, he know it was mostly fear. "There for the grace of Dendi goes I.." 18, of course, would never age, so some years ago she took a course in theatrical make-up. Went all the way to Hollywood to learn from the best. She makes herself up to look as old as Kirillin. Vegeta overheard her tell Bulma once years ago that it requires two hours every morning, with frequent touch-ups during the day to maintain the look. That's one dedicated mate.
"Just like Kirillin." Vegeta repeated in a soft voice, his hands falling to his sides, turning his back on his son.
Trunks regarded his father's back for a few seconds. Then whispered;
"Do not go gently into that goodnight"
"What?" Vegeta asked.
Then, with a stronger voice, Trunks continued.
"Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."
Trunks voice suddenly found more confidence, and power!
"Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."
Trunks regarded his father for another few seconds. Tears were steadily streaming down his face. "If this is what you truly wish to do, the family will not stand in your way."
Vegeta had turned back around to face his son about half way through the poem. His jaw slack, his eyes stared in disbelief. "Trunks, my son! You finally understand what it is to be a Saiyan Warrior! That prose! Where did you hear that?"
"Hehehe.. Remember that college poetry class that you said was stupid, and would turn me into a soft baka human?" Trunks asked.
"Y-you mean that was written by a human!" Vegeta exclaimed.
"Yes, by a human named Dylan Thomas." Trunks offered.
Vegeta sighed. "These damned, baka humans, always a surprise!"
Vegeta suddenly, impulsively, closed the distance between him and his son until they were within arms reach of each other.
"Do you recall what I said before I tried to take out Buu the first time?" Vegeta asked.
"You asked me to take care of mother." Trunks answered.
"Well, this time I'm leaving you with far greater responsibilities." Vegeta looked into Trunk's blue eyes. "This time your responsibilities are no less then the protection of this entire mud ball. As I go, so goes the last pureblooded Saiyans. You, and your son are strong, capable warriors; I have no doubt that I'm leaving this world in capable hands. I have always been proud of you Trunks."
"Thank you, I have always been proud to be the son of the Saiyan no Ouji."
Vegeta turned away to blink back the tears he felt forming, only to find he was too late, they had been flowing down his cheeks for some time. "No, he thought, for once I will not be ashamed of my feelings!" He turned back towards Trunks without wiping the tears away. As he turned, he found himself embraced in his son's strong arms; Vegeta returned the embrace with a force that would have turned any normal human to mush. No one spoke; no one wanted to spoil the moment. The embrace lasted a long time. There were no bubble-gum colored super strong monsters coming to kill them this time. Finally, Vegeta broke the silence. "Goodbye my only son – see you on the other side."
"Goodbye father – I hope you find what you're looking for."
With that Trunks brought out a remote and pressed in a code, the overhead launch doors began to iris open. Trunks powered up a bit and started flying towards the door. "Wait Trunks! How did you find out about this? I told that baka Roger not to…." Trunks cut his Father off, "No Dad, for a human, Roger is quite surprising, I could probably beat him to death and he would have kept his word to you."
"Damned, another surprising human!" Vegeta exclaimed. "So how did you find out?"
"The fuel receipts" Trunks replied. "Space Aviation Fuel isn't exactly the most plentiful or least expensive of CC's products. Every fuel receipt must come to the President's desk for inspection, and I just happen to be CC's President. When so much was ordered for this monstrosity, I was immediately suspicious."
"I see.,," Vegeta mused.
"Of course, I had been expecting something along these lines for quite some time. You're not exactly the least transparent man on Earth you know." Trunks smirked.
"What? I thought I've been pretty good at hiding my feelings!" Vegeta exclaimed.
"Hehehehe.. As a long time student of Vegetatology, lesson number one states that the effort that Vegeta spends hiding his emotions, is also the very thing that makes him so transparent. Hahahaha! When Bra and I were both pretty young, we started a whole book of Vegetaisms, we called them. We still add to it, from time to time"
"So, you think you know all about your father now eh?" Vegeta asked with the classic smirk.
"Humph! Who could possibly know everything about the Prince of all the Saiyans!" Trunks replied with his own smirk.
"Good answer brat." Vegeta replied.
"Well Dad, I gotta go. This place doesn't exactly run itself you know." Trunks stated flatly.
Trunks turned to continue his flight, but had no more than cleared the hanger doors when Vegeta suddenly phased in about ten or so feet in front of him. Vegeta immediately powered up to Super Saiyan, and then to Super Saiyan 2. Vegeta lowered himself into a fighting stance. "One more time brat, for old times sake?"
Trunks lowered himself into his own fighting stance, mirroring his fathers, and powered up to Super Saiyan 2 matching Vegeta's power level exactly, as well as the matching smirks. "You got it old man, let's see if you still got anything." Trunks challenged.
"One more thing before we start brat." Vegeta had an even larger smirk than normal.
"Yeah old man?" Trunks trying to match his father's smirk.
"I love you son." Vegeta stated flatly, and meant it. Then he attacked.
Trunks would be a few weeks recovering from the subsequent mistake of letting his father shock him to such a distraction.