From: "Alison R" alison.rodgers@clear.net.nz
Subject: ch2
Date: Saturday, 2 November 2002 11:43
The Trust in Lies
Chapter 2: From Earth to Space
*************
Trunks head swam up out of the awful darkness, and he managed to open his eyes to a white, slightly curved wall, it was a few more minutes before his brain woke up completely and registered that the wall was strange, and unfamiliar. He tried to sit up, but discovered he already was, slumped over the back of a high backed seat. His arms felt weak and his legs were practically jelly, his vision was almost clear, save for a few blurry patches when he moved his head too fast.
Trunks stared round at his eerily familiar space ship prison. Bulma had a Saiyan pod in Capsule Corp's basement, along with a myriad of half finished or never-worked-in-the-first-place inventions. Trunks had spent only a few hours sitting inside it, wondering about his father, because there were more important things at hand, like convincing Gohan to work through routine after routine with him, or making sure his mother ate while working on whatever she happened to be working on. Had the circumstances been different Trunks probably would have spent longer wondering in the pod.
This one was larger, rounded, with two doors leading out of the main chamber. The chair he was on- and buckled into, Trunks noted, but was that from takeoff or for some other purpose?- faced the main room that contained the control panel, millions of buttons all flashing bright coloured lights. Trunks turned his head away, as they made that place behind his eyes ache.
The heavily muscular man grunted and turned round to Trunks, after finishing programming the ship on auto-pilot. He inspected Trunks with a sharp black eye. "My Prince, you're going to have to make a few changes. Those clothes, for one, must be changed." He said in Saiyan, his voice translated through the scouter with a heavy accent.
"I'm not going to be your Prince." Trunks said, and found he could indeed speak, "So take me home." He tried to sound firm and confident, but his voice failed him.
"And your Highness will need a scouter while Your Highness learns our language. I speak no Ea-arthian and do not intend to. Did Your Highness's father the Prince teach you nothing?" His scouter inquired, while the boy picked up a language full of hard R's and K's underneath his words. The older male disappeared through the door, the left one, and came back a moment later –too soon for Trunks to get to the control panel and figure out a course back to Earth, he hadn't held much hope for that plan anyway, his head still felt woozy- holding some red and midnight blue material, perched like a poisoned cheery on the top was a scouter of blue glass.
"It is set to translate from Your Highness's Ea-arthian to Saiyan, the lower button reads power levels, and the higher a communicator, Your Highness can speak with any other Saiyans with the same make of scouter so long as Your Highness has their signature number entered in the scouters mainframe chip. One of Your Highness's personal slaves will do that, but Your Highness need not worry about that yet." The scouter was tossed at Trunks in a less that formal manner, Trunks realised that the language the man spoke under the translated 'Ea-arthian' was probably not as formal as the scouter made it out to be, and was merely a translation bug. He bet his mother could fix it, and was washed over with a feeling that told him he'd never see home again.
He hated that feeling.
His head a little clearer, he put the scouter on and half the world went blue. Small digits he didn't recognise popped up onto the screen as he looked through it to his kidnapper's face. He took it off again as if it really was poison. Trunks, guessing that the man wouldn't hurt him, not with amount of respect in his words, felt bolder; he tossed the clothes on the floor with a soft thump, managed to unbuckle the odd clips that held him to the seat on the first try, and, holding the chair arm for support, stood up. "Turn this ship around." He imagined how Gohan would have said it, "and return me to Earth."
"Cannot do, Your Majesty." Parsnal sat down with a strong muscly ease. Trunks stayed standing, Parsnal was practically lounging in an opposite chair, a swivel chair that usually faced the control panel, but now was facing Trunks. The two were about the same height like this, and Trunks didn't want to loose his advantage. He knew this man could beat him to a pulp- hoped he wouldn't, but knew he could.
Riding on that hope, Trunks frowned. "Can't? Or won't?"
"Both." Parsnal said, jerking the sleeve of his right arm upwards, revealing deep welts in the skin, most of them looked new, not quite fresh, but probably a month or two old. "This is what they did to me to find out where your father went." He spat. "I was the only one who knew. It's my head if I don't bring back a Prince. Any Prince." The formality of his voice was gone, replaced by the anger at those who inflicted the wounds.
Trunks eyed the man. "Why go back at all?" He asked. *It doesn't sound the nicest place* He thought, and another crossed his mind *If this man was tortured to tell where my father was, why was he too sent to find him? Would the Saiyans entrust that mission to him? Or am I making assumptions about them?*
"Would you leave your planet forever?" The man was quick to speak.
"Well, that's what you're asking of me" Trunks said bitterly
"Shut up." Yes, the formalness was defiantly gone, Trunks wondered what had happened to it. Of course it had been an act, but what revelation inside that thickly haired head had made him drop it? Trunks had a feeling he didn't want to know. "Duty to my late King. Vegitasei has been without King or Prince for fifteen years, things have been going mad, and have been barely kept in check by those left in the high positions or Court and Council. The entire planet needs someone to bring them together and lead them, else too many rebellions will break out. It has begun already, since our King's assassination, and the realisation that no-one ever found out where his son was, the same realisation that the planet was heirless, without sufficient- any- royal blood to be called upon as a leader, some entire nations have been revolting against the Court's rule. We need a true Blood King, or a Blood Prince." Parsnals voice showed little sign of emotion, and kept its rough quality throughout. "There is no other but you that the people will rally behind."
*He won't find a Prince in me* Thought Trunks, *Even I've looked, a true Prince would have been able to convince Gohan to train me. Then maybe I wouldn't be in this mess.*
"I can't." Said Trunks, "Please. Just find someone else and take me home."
"Stop thinking like that. There is no other. You will be Prince willingly. Or you could kill me, escape to Ea-arth where you will be hunted down and taken with force and little regard as to what happens to Ea-arth afterwards." The threat in Parsnals voice twisted Trunks's stomach in a knot of fear. "Yes" Parsnal said, reading the look on Trunks's face, "They would."
Trunks didn't know if he lied or not, but he remembered his mother telling him of the two Saiyans' first arrival on Earth, his own father and Nappa, who were searching for the dragonballs Trunks had only heard stories of. They would do anything to get them and had little, no, no regard for the planet or any of its inhabitants. Until his father met his mother.
But if all Saiyans were like his father had been, and if was too likely to say 'if', then Trunks knew he couldn't take the risk of calling the Saiyan's bluff, because it probably wasn't one.
More time. That was what he needed, he knew there was a way out somehow, that there was plan in his fuzzy head somewhere. Playing along with this...this nightmare, until there showed an opportunity to escape was his only option that wouldn't put Earth in more danger than it already was.
Subject: ch2
Date: Saturday, 2 November 2002 11:43
The Trust in Lies
Chapter 2: From Earth to Space
*************
Trunks head swam up out of the awful darkness, and he managed to open his eyes to a white, slightly curved wall, it was a few more minutes before his brain woke up completely and registered that the wall was strange, and unfamiliar. He tried to sit up, but discovered he already was, slumped over the back of a high backed seat. His arms felt weak and his legs were practically jelly, his vision was almost clear, save for a few blurry patches when he moved his head too fast.
Trunks stared round at his eerily familiar space ship prison. Bulma had a Saiyan pod in Capsule Corp's basement, along with a myriad of half finished or never-worked-in-the-first-place inventions. Trunks had spent only a few hours sitting inside it, wondering about his father, because there were more important things at hand, like convincing Gohan to work through routine after routine with him, or making sure his mother ate while working on whatever she happened to be working on. Had the circumstances been different Trunks probably would have spent longer wondering in the pod.
This one was larger, rounded, with two doors leading out of the main chamber. The chair he was on- and buckled into, Trunks noted, but was that from takeoff or for some other purpose?- faced the main room that contained the control panel, millions of buttons all flashing bright coloured lights. Trunks turned his head away, as they made that place behind his eyes ache.
The heavily muscular man grunted and turned round to Trunks, after finishing programming the ship on auto-pilot. He inspected Trunks with a sharp black eye. "My Prince, you're going to have to make a few changes. Those clothes, for one, must be changed." He said in Saiyan, his voice translated through the scouter with a heavy accent.
"I'm not going to be your Prince." Trunks said, and found he could indeed speak, "So take me home." He tried to sound firm and confident, but his voice failed him.
"And your Highness will need a scouter while Your Highness learns our language. I speak no Ea-arthian and do not intend to. Did Your Highness's father the Prince teach you nothing?" His scouter inquired, while the boy picked up a language full of hard R's and K's underneath his words. The older male disappeared through the door, the left one, and came back a moment later –too soon for Trunks to get to the control panel and figure out a course back to Earth, he hadn't held much hope for that plan anyway, his head still felt woozy- holding some red and midnight blue material, perched like a poisoned cheery on the top was a scouter of blue glass.
"It is set to translate from Your Highness's Ea-arthian to Saiyan, the lower button reads power levels, and the higher a communicator, Your Highness can speak with any other Saiyans with the same make of scouter so long as Your Highness has their signature number entered in the scouters mainframe chip. One of Your Highness's personal slaves will do that, but Your Highness need not worry about that yet." The scouter was tossed at Trunks in a less that formal manner, Trunks realised that the language the man spoke under the translated 'Ea-arthian' was probably not as formal as the scouter made it out to be, and was merely a translation bug. He bet his mother could fix it, and was washed over with a feeling that told him he'd never see home again.
He hated that feeling.
His head a little clearer, he put the scouter on and half the world went blue. Small digits he didn't recognise popped up onto the screen as he looked through it to his kidnapper's face. He took it off again as if it really was poison. Trunks, guessing that the man wouldn't hurt him, not with amount of respect in his words, felt bolder; he tossed the clothes on the floor with a soft thump, managed to unbuckle the odd clips that held him to the seat on the first try, and, holding the chair arm for support, stood up. "Turn this ship around." He imagined how Gohan would have said it, "and return me to Earth."
"Cannot do, Your Majesty." Parsnal sat down with a strong muscly ease. Trunks stayed standing, Parsnal was practically lounging in an opposite chair, a swivel chair that usually faced the control panel, but now was facing Trunks. The two were about the same height like this, and Trunks didn't want to loose his advantage. He knew this man could beat him to a pulp- hoped he wouldn't, but knew he could.
Riding on that hope, Trunks frowned. "Can't? Or won't?"
"Both." Parsnal said, jerking the sleeve of his right arm upwards, revealing deep welts in the skin, most of them looked new, not quite fresh, but probably a month or two old. "This is what they did to me to find out where your father went." He spat. "I was the only one who knew. It's my head if I don't bring back a Prince. Any Prince." The formality of his voice was gone, replaced by the anger at those who inflicted the wounds.
Trunks eyed the man. "Why go back at all?" He asked. *It doesn't sound the nicest place* He thought, and another crossed his mind *If this man was tortured to tell where my father was, why was he too sent to find him? Would the Saiyans entrust that mission to him? Or am I making assumptions about them?*
"Would you leave your planet forever?" The man was quick to speak.
"Well, that's what you're asking of me" Trunks said bitterly
"Shut up." Yes, the formalness was defiantly gone, Trunks wondered what had happened to it. Of course it had been an act, but what revelation inside that thickly haired head had made him drop it? Trunks had a feeling he didn't want to know. "Duty to my late King. Vegitasei has been without King or Prince for fifteen years, things have been going mad, and have been barely kept in check by those left in the high positions or Court and Council. The entire planet needs someone to bring them together and lead them, else too many rebellions will break out. It has begun already, since our King's assassination, and the realisation that no-one ever found out where his son was, the same realisation that the planet was heirless, without sufficient- any- royal blood to be called upon as a leader, some entire nations have been revolting against the Court's rule. We need a true Blood King, or a Blood Prince." Parsnals voice showed little sign of emotion, and kept its rough quality throughout. "There is no other but you that the people will rally behind."
*He won't find a Prince in me* Thought Trunks, *Even I've looked, a true Prince would have been able to convince Gohan to train me. Then maybe I wouldn't be in this mess.*
"I can't." Said Trunks, "Please. Just find someone else and take me home."
"Stop thinking like that. There is no other. You will be Prince willingly. Or you could kill me, escape to Ea-arth where you will be hunted down and taken with force and little regard as to what happens to Ea-arth afterwards." The threat in Parsnals voice twisted Trunks's stomach in a knot of fear. "Yes" Parsnal said, reading the look on Trunks's face, "They would."
Trunks didn't know if he lied or not, but he remembered his mother telling him of the two Saiyans' first arrival on Earth, his own father and Nappa, who were searching for the dragonballs Trunks had only heard stories of. They would do anything to get them and had little, no, no regard for the planet or any of its inhabitants. Until his father met his mother.
But if all Saiyans were like his father had been, and if was too likely to say 'if', then Trunks knew he couldn't take the risk of calling the Saiyan's bluff, because it probably wasn't one.
More time. That was what he needed, he knew there was a way out somehow, that there was plan in his fuzzy head somewhere. Playing along with this...this nightmare, until there showed an opportunity to escape was his only option that wouldn't put Earth in more danger than it already was.