FFN is still refusing to acknowledge my specified italicized areas. Read this part un-ffn-funkified at chelsee0.tripod.com/CM36.htm (just cut n' paste it the URL)

Contradicting Mission

Part 36

Joru couldn't breath. His heart was stopped. His throat choked. His golden eyes bulging like a terrified beast, lined with swollen veins. He'd hurt Henning. His own brother. The only person who'd stood up for him when he'd been picked on by his fellow Tahch-jin class mates; the one who'd protected him and remained by his side and tolerated him when no one else could and understood him when no one else did.

He'd hurt Henning.

And he could almost swear that he hadn't meant to.

When he'd turned that corner, and seen his brother's back standing in that empty hall, he'd felt a flush of joy and gratitude and overwhelming relief: Henning had come to save him! Everything would be okay, because Henning always found a way to save them when the chips were down!

It wasn't until he approached, his mouth just parting to voice a greeting, that he heard a small squeak of pain, and saw that his dear brother was not alone after all. All muscles in Joru jerked to a stop. Held tightly against Henning's chest, motionless, Joru could just make out the shape of Son Gohan.

What happened next was very much a blur to him. He heard the hum of the torturous weapon in his hands, and he remembered the feeling of wind gusting against his forehead as he raced forward, but what he actually did, what he was intending to do, was so completely unthinkable to him that he failed to understand his own intentions until he discovered himself standing above his brother, looking down in complete shock and sickness, as he felt his brother's pain racing through the length of the Chah't scepter and into his hand and from there into every crevice and cranny of his tender body.

It seemed Henning's next words were only explaining to Joru what he had done, for he still was not quite sure, "Brother... you.. betrayed me?"

The scepter slipping from his fingers to snap and crackle as it hit the ground, Joru put one hand against his churning stomach, the other hand over his mouth in case he might throw up, unsure if his horror and disgust was toward his brother over what he had been doing, or towards himself over what he'd just done. His head was shaking back and forth slowly, no, no, in silent denial.

*

Gohan was not even aware of Joru. He hadn't actually heard Henning speak either, or at least he did and chose not to comprehend. He was in this other place, where everything was movement and horizontal streaks of color and burning and searing hot hatred that was fueled with the kindling of humiliation and utter indignation,. He was not aware of much, really, though it was nothing like the numbness of when Henning had his tail. No, that had been an cold, blank emptiness.

What he felt now was the opposite.

His entire body, entire being, was abuzz with so many signals and feelings and sights and sounds and tastes, yes, smells and feelings, emotional and physical and all of them were beating into his senses, fighting one another to reach his brain first, battering his mind until he simply could not comprehend everything that passed through him. It was as though, to make up for those eternal seconds in which he'd been lost in the monstrous Tahch-jin's grip, his entire system was loading him with sensation after sensation, giving him a full report of his entire body, right down to his cramping fingers. The only sensation he could really distinguish was the raw, nervy feeling still pumping up his tail from the bruising treatment it had received.

And his anger.

Raging on the top of his mind, as heat would rise in a burning house, was the smothering feeling of, yes, indignation. And the rampant, blazing sensation that told him he was not in his right mind and he'd better like it, bitch, because there was nothing he could do about it and he'd better not, oh lordly, better not try to gain control right then or WHAM, the Gohan that he knew and was would be burned alive and his entire small body would explode because he was not going to roll over and take it this time, oh, kami no.

And, feeding on the berzerker blaze above, his intellect was mutating into the icy glacier of reptilian blood lust. Twisting his beloved logic into unwholesome thoughts, Kill him, tear him in half, oh, rip him open, pull out his insides, smash his head, you don't have to take this, oh, no, Gohan m' boy, you don't have to take this from the likes of him! It was the cold, unfriendly voice, and for the first time he liked what it was saying, because it made perfect sense that he should spill the blood of his tormentor.

The lust for destruction (You're a machine, Gohan m' boy, a machine of destruction! Do your job! Destroy!) was so loud that Gohan failed to hear the woefully quiet human half of himself whispering pitifully, Please, wait a moment! You're out of control! Can't you see that? Just wait one moment! Think! There's a good boy, wait a moment and think! The situation painfully reminded him of something, but he could not remember what, even when that quiet human voice started screaming as the memory enveloped it, Tousan's going to die! All over again, can't you feel it?! Just like this, just like this, just like this!...

All that registered, however, was a state of impending horror, badness, pain, death, and he had to move right now, because that was just what he had to do, move and act and get going and move, move, move, strike! Kill! HATE!!

He was on his feet instantly, his hair all but standing up at its roots as his entire being was trying and failing to send him into the golden transformation that was all but required in order to control the furnace that was he, but though his chi flickered off and on from the color of the blue moon to the color of the sun at its zenith, nothing happened, and it only frustrated him, grated at his senses, and he, feeling as though he were moving in slow motion, looked over his shoulder.

And looked down at Henning, who was only now beginning to get to his feet.

He, right then, defined his source of rage. The enemy. His enemy. No. Not enemy.

His prey.

It was uncanny luck that, the instant Gohan lifted his foot to crush Henning's vile head, hat and all, beneath his boot, that the Tahch-jin chose to roll over and try to get to his feet. The impact of the boys foot crushed the tiles to powder, but he didn't care, because he was going to kill Henning, and kill him now, while he was still alone and unprotected, with no Aeesu-jins to hide behind.

Henning was in a lost world of his own. A state of shock, really; unable to think of anything other than that his brother, his brother, Joru Le'Armont, who shared his name and his space ship, who had, all this time, been his only truly loyal companion, had betrayed him. Betrayed him for... what? For Son Gohan? For some Saiya-jin brat like... Then the mighty Tahch-jin understood, the same moment he rolled to get up, unwittingly saving his skull from being pulverized.

All this time, the hunting, the planning, he'd assumed that only he knew the depths of Son Gohan's soul. But he was wrong, oh, he saw now that he was wrong. Henning was a Tahch-jin, he could read all that he needed through his hands, through his touch, into his being; this gift was what aided him in discovering that this specific, beautiful little Saiya-jin boy was the one, the one he'd been looking for. But he'd forgotten that dear Joru was also a Tahch-jin.

He'd also, at some point through this, come into physical contact with Son Gohan. And it seemed that everyone that came really into contact with this stupid, cursed boy were always affected, afflicted, one way or another. Whether it be hatred or affection or what ever word could be used to describe Henning's particular interest, they always felt something, it was in the boy's presence, which Henning had felt, but it was in his chi and in his soul and in his sheer existence and being.

Henning jerked to his feet, startled by the utter force behind the impact of the boy's attack as it struck the ground, and instantly his tall, sleek body was lower to the ground, one hand raised, palm facing outward, beside his ear, to attack, his other hand extended from his body on a long arm, palm facing the ground, ready to defend. It was the first time he'd needed to get into an actual fighting formation in longer than he could count, but even then, studying the absolutely flawless stance of Son Gohan (though it appeared that the boy was only standing, his arms hanging straight at either of his narrow sides) Henning knew that unless something else happened, he would lose this fight.

And soundly.

When Gohan moved in a second time, his tail audibly snapping behind him in uncontrolled malice, it didn't matter that his attack was sloppy in his rage. It was too fast to be anything but effective.

It wasn't that Henning didn't see the boy moving, but rather, it's like watching an arrow loosed from a bow, too fast to counter, just slow enough to vaguely follow with the eyes. With every strain of might in him, the Tahch-jin swung his head back, only guessing that the boy, in all his hatred, would be impulsed to smash his face first.

And almost instantly he felt a puff of air brush past the tip of his nose and he found himself staring into the face of Son Gohan, now just inches from his own personal face. He'd avoided the initial punch -- if only by a millimeter or two--, but, just as abruptly as the boy's attack had been, the force of the air, through which the boy's fist had cut, following in the wake of the attack and plowed into him with just as much force as anything Gohan could have thrown at him.

Henning was not aware he'd been sailing through the air, or even struck by anything, until his body was deeply imbedded into the wall that had been behind him. A shower of despris erupted around him and hit the ground with a suprisingly lovely tinkling noise.

Joru cried out in surprise, seeing neither of the two move until, suddenly, the halls shook and echoed from the impact of his brother's body; and only then did he see that, now, his dear sibling was planted in the wall, his arms stretched out from his tall body, his eyes wide, looking at Son Gohan, who as now standing where Henning had been, his small boyish fist still extended. His tail was elevated into a dramatic arch behind his back, causing him to look utterly dominant in his power.

"Oh, kami," Joru's shrill voice cut through the air, crackling with the electricity of the fighting going on in the Underground, "Oh, kami! Son Gohan! Don't kill him! Don't kill my brother!"

If Son Gohan did indeed hear him, he gave no sign that it was so, for he only began to pace forward, towards the still stunned Henning and, using one hand, grabbed hold of his Tahch-jin tormentor's shirt front, jerked him from the wall, and threw him to the ground, face first. When Henning tried to get up, whether it would be to run or to fight back is left unknown, the boy serviced to kick him in the hip.

What are you doing? Kill him! No, enjoy this, you have time. No, no, no, never prolong it! Kill him quickly and have it over with! But you don't want it over with, to you, Gohan m'boy? Just like this! Tousan's dying! Just like this, just like this! Such was only a small clip of the mental dialogue running through Gohan's head, and, in the overwhelming feelings, the smeared lines of sight, of his consciousness of good and bad, he could no longer distinguish the difference between the unfriendly voice and the simpering of his human side. It was a massive clutter of people telling him what to do, and he hated it, because he was sick of people telling him what to do, sick to death of it, and he wasn't going to take it.

And all his rage and hatred and disgust towards himself and Henning and, yes, though he saw it not, his fear and all else was directed at the tall, slim, toned body of Henning Le'Armont, who he was going to kill, he just hadn't yet decided how long he would take to do it.

Were he to know that his power was driving him half mad, it would have made no difference. His little worn knuckles crashed down on Henning's back, and his keen Saiya-jin hearing heard the air being driven out of the Tahch-jin's body. His body was trying to transform, even then, though he didn't know it, into Super Saiya-jin. His anger was giving him too much power, it was too much, and his little half-human body could not hold it all in. He felt like he was going to explode, blow up, splattering the room with little Gohan-bits, and the sensation was reeling him yet higher into a state of panic, which was converting into desperation and then into hate, because hatred loaned him power.

And the Saiya-jin in him wanted power.

It didn't care that his human side couldn't take it.

He reached down and rolled Henning over before drawing back a balled fist and...

Two sweat-damp hands grabbed him by his shoulders and pulled him backwards, off his balance, as he suddenly did hear Joru's crying voice, "Oh, please, don't kill my brother!"

Henning's eyes flew open at the interruption and, mercy of all mercies, saw this as his only opportunity to act, and so, throwing his body away from the raging boy, dove across the floor, gripping hold of the Chah't scepter. Gohan tore lose from Joru's grasp and leapt after him, hands extended to strangle him just as Henning whipped over onto his back, scepter extended, pointed toward the boy, elbows locked.

Gohan couldn't stop in time, though after he'd sprung he saw exactly what the Tahch-jin was trying to do. Nevertheless he flared his chi and tried to cease his trajectory, far too late, for that instant he crashed bodily into the glowing, humming orb at the end of the scepter, burying it in the unprotected organs of his stomach and, his momentum still pushing him forward, nearly impaled himself on it.

He lost control of his body as he became aware only of the color white, filling his sight, his senses, the white humming coming from the glowing globe, and the white pain sent through his brain. He only managed a startled yelp before his vocals clenched and he couldn't make a sound. He sailed harmlessly over the Tahch-jin, and rolled across the floor.

Henning was on his feet in an instant, and for him, a single second felt like eternity as so many thoughts filled his head. He felt an impulse to dive in on Gohan before he could recover, grab his tail a second time and this time hang on, but that thought was cut short as he realized every time he though he really had the boy he ended up getting injured, instead.

He knew he had to move fast, whatever he did, because the little Saiya-jin would surely get up soon, so he turned to retreat, head for the main control room, set the computer to destroy the whole fucking planet, but the realized he'd have to pack all his things first, so he turned to call to Joru to tell him to run and be prepared to leave the planet immediately because he was finally going to get his wish and Aeesu-sei would be reduced to rubble, but as his head turned to his brother it stopped. He couldn't travel through space with Joru! He'd betrayed him!

Confused and scared and feeling remarkably as he had as a youngster when he'd done something wrong and could hear his parents coming down the hall to lecture him for it, Henning wanted to tear at his hair and roll on the ground because that was how he solved all his problems before...

But if he lingered, things would not be made better.

He'd be killed.

By a child.

His mind turned empty of schemes, and so, in a state of blind confusion and fear, he turned and fled, trying to escape the demons of doubt as much as the tangible dangers of this mysterious universe.

He took the Chah't scepter with him.

Gohan was only half conscious from the pain that still blinded him, little sparks of electricity flying off his shaking body.

Joru Le'Armont sank to his knees on the dirty floor and made not a sound.

Bojack could not understand why Heng was not wearing down. The Aeesu-jin's attacks proved feeble when compared to the Biraju-jin's, he was slower, fatter, and received far more hits than he presented.

So it was confusing that Bojack was losing his breath before Heng was.

He ducked under the attacking gray tail of his enemy as it lashed for his face, and diving forward, his mane a streak of magma behind him, and drove his fist upward into the meat of Heng's stomach. Though he struck deep, the Aeesu-jin didn't seem to notice it as he raised a three-toed foot and drove his heel into Bojack's torso, just above the jagged scar that ran horizontal over his chest.

Even as the impact hit him, the Biraju-jin arced his fist up and sought to drive his knuckles under Heng's knee cap, perhaps to cripple him, and indeed his attack hit its mark, but it failed to pierce all the bulky padding of skin that had built up over the whole of that great body.

They broke apart from eachother and stood at a distance, eye meeting eye, as Bojack began to realize something.

Aeesu-jin didn't eat. They only consumed liquids. So how, now, was Heng so utterly fat, if he did not eat? It came to him, then, that perhaps it wasn't just fat, but extra skin, built up over years and years; one layer after another of the tough, thick Aeesu-jin skin... That would explain why even the devastating thrusts of Bojack were not striking too far through it.

The sounds of screaming and battling and fighting and erupting chi echoed, dimmly, as though muffled, through the corridors, temporarily drawing the two battalion's attention away from their throw-down, looking up the hall, seeking a source. The spectator's of Bojack and Heng's fight -- Garlic, Freeza and the minions of Heng -- redirected their attention as well.

For a split second there was silence, in which only the heavy breathing of Bojack and Heng could be heard, as they listened to the approaching sounds of war.

Abruptly, a section of tiles lining the wall exploded outward, and an uncounted number of Aeesu-jin, mingled with a few other aliens, suddenly washed into the hall, all fighting violently amongst themselves, the very air sizzling and glowing and spitting with chi and the mortal cries of those dying and the victorious shouts of those prevailing and the snaps and cracks of lashing tails as they struck repeatedly at one another, crack! snap!, and, though they knew it not, they witnessed the mighty battle between Henning's loyal army and Heng's mighty warriors, distinguished from one another only by the sashes Heng's men wore across their chests and the blue and black hats Henning's men wore.

A sudden thought came to Bojack, right then. More, a reminder.

He looked over at Freeza and Garlic. Then he looked to the stock-still minions of Heng that had been quietly watching the fight. Then he looked down the hall at the battling Aeesu-jins, then up the hall that stood empty as it rounded the corner out of sight.

There was no sign of Son Gohan.

He swore at the same time Heng plowed passed him to defend his own men from the mutinous Aeesu-jin that had joined forces with the enemy Tahch-jin. The fight between Biraju-jin and Aeesu-jin had been, officially, put on hold for more defensive priorities.

Bojack tore his way to Garlic and Freeza, through the twisting, murderous, fighting throng as it over-swept him, shouting to be heard over the raging battle, "Where's the kid?!"

It was obvious by the blank, confused, bewildered expressions on the demon and the Off-planet's face that they knew not, glancing hither and thither through the swelling mass of brawling bodies, trying to glimpse through the tangle a patch of a gray-blue fighting suit, or the flash of a furry brown tail, or a snatch of his clear, high, boyish voice above the din of deeper, adult voices.

But, though they could not be sure, the boy appeared to be gone, having been lost some time during the match between Bojack and Heng; Garlic could not sense his chi.

Though he was quite near them, a great multitude of combative Aeesu-jin stormed between Bojack and his fellow allies; they lost sight of eachother in the madness of motion and battle. They were on their own.

When Gohan became fully aware of himself again, through the twitching skin and crackle of sparks that leapt from his hair, he made no immediate move to get to his feet. For, though it took a good two or three minutes for him to regain his body, his mind had returned almost instantly. His rational mind.

Stupid, moron, baka, dummy! What were you thinking!

Unable to move, his unfriendly inner voice quiet for the moment, he was forced to lay there and just hear it, his eyes closed.

Don't you ever go into battle again without using your brain! You're lucky to still be alive!

He was still quite angry, yes, but he had it under control again; a raging river, but subdued under a thick layer of ice. As he gathered his elbows beneath him, aiding him to get up, he decided that his human side did, indeed, have a valid point. He could not win this battle with brute strength alone, not as he was. That was why he was here in the Underground in the first place, was it not. He needed to...

He glanced up at the sound of movement, a spark of terror racing through him at the thought that he might have been wrong, and Henning might not have fled as he'd thought.

But he only found Joru, seated against the wall, watching him. It was the first time Gohan became actually aware of the meeker Tahch-jin's presence. And it was the first time Gohan began to, perhaps, understand fully what had happened.

"You... ," he said, thought hard for a moment, went on, "You saved me again?" But he was unsure if he was right; so he ended it in a question.

Joru nodded, looking infinitely weary, "Yes, yes, " he said, his head nodding up and down slowly, sitting cross-legged on the floor, leaning against the wall behind him, arms crossed over his chest, eyes cast downward, "But this time I didn't get away with it. Henning... my beloved brother... he knows, now." There might have been a tear in his eye, or it could have been a trick of the flickering halogen lights, "We're no longer allies, I think. I'll no longer be permitted to stand at his side."

A confused, then crushing, demolishing feeling swept through Gohan as he discovered he'd destroyed yet another person's life merely be existing; and yet, he could not be selfless enough to say he wished Joru hadn't helped him, during any of the times he did. His small fingers encircled his tail protectively, smoothing down the hairs Henning had so brutally disrupted, trying to feel the comforting warmth the gentle touch transmitted through his starved body, as he tried to grasp a calmer plateau of mind, feeling, maybe, ready to regain a more controlled mentality than what he'd been sailing along with so far.

"*krrsh* Son Gohan!" He heard, suddenly, the tiny, electronic voice of Sunow in his ear, "Son Gohan I can't do anything else here! There's just too many codes I don't know!"

Gohan released his tail with one hand and put a finger to the device, pushing it closer to his mouth, about to answer, when his eyes again went to Joru, who was watching him closely, "Sunow-san? One moment." He put his hand over the mini-microphone so Sunow could not hear him and said to Joru, "You know the codes to the computer system your brother stole from Heng?"

Baffled, the Tahch-jin nodded, "Actually, I have my own, personal codes to it."

A heart beat. A pang of guilt at needing yet more help. "Would you be willing to share them?"

A pause, a tremble, then a visible crumbling, as though under a colossal weight, "I... imagine I could."

"Sunow-san?" Gohan removed his hand and spoke again to the Aeesu-jin on the other end of his connection, "I'm coming right now. I'm bringing help."

He gathered himself back to his shaky feet, spat a small wad of bloody spit to the floor, gathered his tail around his waist like a good little Saiya-jin, and looked to the Tahch-jin, measuring, before saying, quietly, "Joru-san? Will you come with me, now, and help me?"

Joru glanced up at his name, and a strange feeling seeped into his weak heart.

'Joru-san.' The boy had called him 'Joru-san.'

Strange, he'd been called Joru-sama, and Lord Joru and Master Le'Armont or sometimes simply Master... But being called only 'Joru-san' by this single Saiya-jin boy, with a whip-thin body and a furry brown tail and a scar on his cheek and a quiet twinkling in his dark eyes and a soft, humble voice, made him feel genuinely appreciated and respected in a way being called 'Lord' and 'Master' could and did not. In simpler words, he liked the ring of it.

He stood up, feeling stronger and braver than he ever had before, visions of his brother's smile fading, chuckling on the inside -- Joru-san -- and answered, "Yes, Son Gohan. Yes, I do think I will."

To be continued...