August 15, 2002: (Anyone else feel like Elvis dies all over again each year? I think I'm going to be wear black tomorrow...) So, hey, people are actually still reading this. Yea! I actually wasn't going to work on it yet since I was feeling lazy, but then I was like "if they were nice enough to review, I'll be nice enough to stick to some sort of a schedule with these updates" (and that is in no way blackmail for the rest of the chappies!). Um, normally I reread my chapters a couple times before posting them but it's late and I'm tired so just ignore all the errors, would ya? Thanks.
Chapter 2:
Trunks knew three things for certain.
If he wanted any chance for survival he needed to stay focused, he needed to find shelter, and he needed to find food.
Actually, make that four things, because he also knew he wouldn't be able to accomplish the latter two in his current condition.
Stamping down the instinct to flee for shelter, he lowered his body onto the cool stone floor to wait. One hand searched the ground before finding a small pebble. He rolled it in his hand, trying to get a feel for it before setting it down in front of him. His eyes tried to focus in on the spot he knew it to be, but he couldn't make anything out of his muddied vision. He pulled his knees to his chest and linked his arms together around them, never moving his eyes from the unseen rock.
Too many thoughts were jumbling in his head. He wanted to explore the foreign land he found himself in. He wanted to talk to people and find out more about it. But most of all, Trunks wanted clothes.
He didn't move though, something telling him that it all could wait -had to wait until his vision returned. This place was as safe as any other for him now, and he had to hope there was a reason to where he had been dropped.
He felt more then saw people -things, really, pass him by. Some scurried by, low and close to the ground. Others shuffled by slowly. None though, stopped to talk him, or even acknowledged his presence. It was at once reassuring and saddening. No one would be bothering him, or pushing for answers, but what kind of place was it that no one stopped to help a blind, naked child?
He was jolted back to awareness at a sharp bite on one of his toes. He lashed out hitting a furry body as he scrambled to his feet. He was disgusted to see the large rat stare at him with beady eyes and relieved that his vision had returned. It was still fuzzy around the edges, but he was sure that would soon fade too. The sky was considerably darker, the bright blinding light replaced by the more faint glow of a moon. He must have dozed off, but it was beyond him how in light of the situation.
He quickly took stock of his surroundings. His first assumption had been on target, as he appeared to be on the edge of a city. The architecture was alien as were the building materials, but it was close enough to home to give him some assurance.
The buildings were all the same color of grey slate, but something was decidedly off about them. It took him a minute to figure out what was so wrong with the picture. None of the buildings had any windows. It was weird seeing the smooth unbroken planes of stone and yet it somehow fit with the overall impression of the place. The whole area made a statement of order and precision. Illuminated by the moon, the effect was as powerful as it was sterile.
No, the city, though nothing like the ones he was used to, was a small comfort. It was the initial 'edge' that he had noticed, that terrified him. Because all the neat and tidy buildings in their perfect rows stretched as far as he could see in one direction, and in the other... they didn't.
No warning, no sense of closure, it just abruptly turned from buildings to....
It was hard to express what exactly lay after the buildings were cut off, other then simply -nothing-. It was like a desert, only more vast and more empty then he'd ever seen. The ground was flat with not so much as a small rock to disturb the barren picture. It almost looked like a still lake of grey dirt. But venturing closer, he realized it wasn't dirt at all. It was ashes.
Trunks turned around and ran.
****
II
****
Bulma raised a hand to wipe the sweat from her brow and received a smack for it.
Sure, she just needed to lay low for a while, piece of cake. Just rest and nobody would bother her. Simple, right?
She reminded herself to smack Goku the next time she saw him.
If she ever saw him again.
She couldn't let herself think like that.
She would find away out of this. She had to. There was no one else left. Hell, there wasn't a person on this entire planet that even cared if she lived or died.
It was up to her now.
She'd been in worse situations before. Being arrested was a walk in the park for her. She snorted to herself and ignored the warning glares she received from the big burly giants on each side of her.
At least they didn't know who she really was. Boy, wouldn't they be surprised to learn they had a leader of the earth's resistance in their midst. She caused more then enough of her share of trouble and she was sure the barbarians would love to make an example out of her. But no, they had no clue who she really was.
They just thought she was the head of one of Vegeta-sei's own terrorist groups.
Thank heavens for small blessings.
She snorted again at the thought and tensed herself for the following blow. Her eyes stung but she refused to shed any tears. Now certainly wasn't the time or place.
It was her own fault, she knew without a doubt. If she had only minded her business she'd probably still be there, safe and waiting for Goku. But how could she have? When she discovered the rogue band of refugees, she felt like she had found what she had been looking for, even if she hadn't realized she was looking. It was comprised mainly of aliens from all different species and galaxies who had their homes destroyed by saiyans and others that simply were outraged at the injustices. They had bravely banded together to fight, even though they knew it meant death and worse.
How could she have not joined?
How could she have not offered all she had to help?
Were they so different from her? They were fighting the same enemy, for the same reasons.
Though often a thorn in the side of the mighty saiyan empire, they were nothing but a thorn and not deemed important enough to expend the minimal energy it would take to find and destroy them. It had been pure luck that they had captured the leader earlier. While the saiyans hadn't realized whom they held, the group had been lost without strong leadership. They hadn't known what to do or where to go.
That was where Bulma had come in.
She was a natural leader and quickly brought order back. She obviously couldn't stay for long, but what harm would it do it help get back their leader before he was found out? After all, could she have merely sat and waited for Goku in good conscience, and left these people here without aid?
So she organized a quick strike. They didn't stand a chance fighting, so their strategy was in and out. Well, they were to go in and out. She was to create a diversion. She figured she could make a big enough fuss that the main mission would go by unnoticed. And it worked. It really really worked. She rigged up some crude bombs with supplies they had found and she had a pretty good time of messing with the saiyans. All in all, it should have been a victory.
The non-victory part came when she got caught. At least she was confident that the others had escaped with their leader. They could really do some good in this world, but she knew she'd never see them again. Maybe there were some there who'd want to come save her, but the fact of the matter was that they had their leader now, and they didn't need her. It would be stupid to risk any of their lives coming to get her, especially since she'd be guarded a hell of a lot closer then their leader had been.
Bulma sighed, as her mind drifted to darker thoughts. She idly wondered what they were planning to do to her. She knew it involved death, of that she was certain. But she pondered the methods. Torture would most likely be involved. They'd try to drag out anything she knew about the group, and they'd probably enjoy the process. They thought she was a big shot, so they might even go for a public execution. She was quite the popular one, wasn't she? It made her all tingly inside just thinking of it.
As fun as guessing at her method of execution was though, she really did have more important things to focus on, like escaping for one.
***
III
***
Trunks flew high above the city below him. He wasn't sure where he was going, he just knew he had to get as far away from that unnatural wasteland as he could. He wasn't sure what about it terrified him so, but he wanted to put some distance between himself and it before he stopped.
Somehow, when his father had talked about Vegeta-sei, this wasn't what he pictured. The whole land seemed so cold, so lifeless. Maybe he could see the connection between it and his father.
He touched down when he felt he had traveled far enough. Everything looked the same everywhere so it was hardly a change of scenery, but at least that awful sight was far behind him. First on his list of needs was clothing, but he was at a loss of where to find it. It wasn't as if any of the buildings had neon signs proclaiming them stores. The streets were deserted too, save for a large woman one way and two equally large men the other. Taking his chances with the woman -weren't they supposed to be the gentler sex?- he headed over to her.
"Please Ma'am, do you know where I could find some clothes?" He gave her the best puppy dog eyes he could muster under the conditions.
"Buzz off, brat," the woman said without slowing down.
So much for that idea.
The men were approaching him now but he doubted he'd have any better luck with them and prepared to leave.
"Hey kid, wait!"
He was torn with indecision for a moment. His hesitation made the choice for him as it allowed the men time to get to him.
"Aren't you a little old to be wandering around naked? Where are your folks?" The older of the two asked him.
"I don't have any."
"Any what? Clothes or folks?" The other asked with a laugh.
"Both." Trunks shifted his weight before staring the man straight in the eyes. He wasn't going to feel ashamed at circumstances beyond his control.
"Well come on, then. We can't leave you out here like this can we? I got a son not much older then you, I'm sure you can fit into some of his."
"Picking up strays again, Selry? Really." The man laughed and ribbed the other.
"I can't have him walking around naked, now can I? What would the neighbors think?" Both laughed at that one. "Come home with me, I can give you a pair of clothes and hot meal but that's it."
Trunks swallowed his pride, a difficult thing for a son of Vegeta to do, and nodded his head. He couldn't let pride get in the way of survival.
He followed the two men, trying to remain inconspicuous lest the one reconsider his offer of clothes and food. Now that he had those two items taken care of, he let his mind wander to the rest of his dilemma. He wasn't stupid enough just to push random buttons on the machine and hope for the best. He learned his lesson the first time. The only one who would be able to help him was his grandfather. Actually, he reasoned, it probably wouldn't be difficult at all for his grandfather to send him back. The only real problem was how to get to him. It'd be hard enough searching a planet for him, but it made matters a bit more complicated when the planet he'd need to search was across the galaxy. Actually, he wasn't even sure where Earth was in relation to Vegeta-sei.
The two men separated and Selry -that was what the man had called him- motioned for Trunks to follow him. He walked straight up to one of the seamless buildings and slapped his hand to the wall. Trunks panicked for a moment, wondering if he had just put his life in the hands of madman, when a door swung out of the wall. He followed the man through it, seeing now the edge around it. It had looked so similar and tight that it gave the impression of continuity. The craftsmanship really was something.
The man led him through a maze in the inside of the building before stopping at a point in the corridor. Now that Trunks knew the trick, he could pick out the lines of the door before it swung open to them.
"Truth be told, I'd enjoy some company tonight. It hasn't been the same around here since my boys left." The man continued to talk to him as he disappeared into another room before reemerging with some clothes. Trunks gratefully accepted the clothes and slipped on the baggy pants and loose T-shirt. Trunks didn't see anything wrong with being naked, but it was nice to have the familiar weight of cloth on him again. "I'm Selry, by the way."
"Trunks."
"You're not from around here, are you?"
"Not...really."
The two made conversation as Selry fixed dinner, or rather Selry made conversation and Trunks gave minimal responses. He wasn't doing it to be rude; his mind was just elsewhere. Like on how he could get a ship to take him to Earth for one. He needed Grandpa's help if he was ever going to get home, but his grandfather wasn't even on the same planet as him! Actually... Trunks had to amend his statement, Grandpa may be on Earth, but technically he did have a grandfather on Vegeta-sei. Maybe it was time to pay a visit to the palace he's heard so much about.