Chapter 3. Shock
Gohan was tired. He'd been hunting down the androids for almost two months, and the only time they had stopped was to start blowing things up. Which they seemed to plan just as he was falling asleep. After weeks of this treatment he grabbed sleep whenever he could, just to be awake when they attacked, so he could give the people a chance. Just a chance! Seconds saved lives these days, sometimes arriving half a minute too late would cost too much.
And so the night they lost Trunks he was dead asleep, put up in a kind civilians house for the night. The strange sensation of getting a proper sleep was interrupted by the stranger sensation of a foreign ki signature entering earths atmosphere somewhere in the north. He sat up in the bed, blinking and wondering where he was, before he realised it wasn't a dream and there really was something weird going on. He dressed quickly, something he'd managed to get very good at recently, leaped out the window. Somehow it was easier to sense changes while outside in the open air. Gohan closed his eyes and searched the area where the strange ki had landed, it was a little too close for comfort to Capsule Corp, and...Trunks was there? Gohan frowned, the ki felt, not just different, but like something he'd sensed before, a long time ago. He didn't like it, and began a mental dilemma with his conscious whether to go back and investigate, or stay.
Going back wouldn't take long, a little under an hour, and it would put his mind at ease. It was this he decided on, since the androids were lying dormant at the moment, who knew where. Back inside, he scrawled a quick note of thanks for the couple that had housed him for the night.
Gohan took off as fast as he could, not wanting to leave for too long, anything could happen while he was gone. But it didn't. It happened just as he was leaving. The shopping complex, which was also the main social centre of the city, exploded in a massive display of heat and light, sending a shock wave out for miles around. Gohan swore loudly, then bit his tongue and headed back towards the scene of attack, hoping Trunks wouldn't get himself into anything too deep.
*************
Trunks stood at the window of the spaceship, staring out towards the fist sized, ruddy brown ball that Parsnal had told him to be Planet Vegita. Trunks was dressed in proper royal Saiyan armour, similar to Parsnal's, but his had a deep red cloak falling to below his knees, fastened at the neck with the royal crest of family Vegita, which hung heavily on him, made of a metal more precious and more weighted than gold, but reasonably close in colour. He still wore his own shoes, while the armour fit any size, the Saiyan boots provided were too big, and made Trunks trip over his own feet when he wore them. The shoes were more comfortable anyway, but Parsnal had made it quite obvious that comfort was not the first priority of being a Prince.
It had been just over three months of straight travel since they had left Earth, Trunks had been keeping rough count of his sleeps but in the last twenty-something days he'd lost count. The time had been spent adjusting to many things, gravity especially, Trunks was proud to say he could do everything he was able to do on Earth, in the gravity of Planet Vegita, which was about ten times greater, he could also speak more than a few phrases in Saiyan, knew the correct way of greeting five different ranks of high born nobles, and was actually beginning to like Parsnal. It surprised him, the fact he was proud of learning the language, maybe because he didn't really believe he'd ever need them, or maybe because the language and customs were his fathers, the only thing of his he really ever had.
Parsnal was not the best teacher, but things got done. His fighting techniques came second to Gohan's, but he had some good moves of his own. He was quick to anger, but was still too respectful of the young Prince to do him any real harm, Trunks was often glad of the workout. Best of all, Trunks learned his father and Parsnal had been close friends before Vegita left the planet in search of the dragonballs, only Parsnal had called the 'Balls of the Dragon King' capital letters and all. This made Trunks a more attentive student, because the reward was usually some story about his father, if Parsnal was in a good mood. Parsnal even called him Trunks half the time, although it was always Prince Trunks, and he had stopped about a fortnight ago, because- he said- Trunks needed to get used to the name Prince Vegita, because that was what he would be called by everyone else. Trunks hoped he could get at least some of them to call him Trunks, but then remembered hopefully he wasn't going to be staying long anyway, so what did it matter? He never forgot his plan to get home though, and throughout the months had kept a sharp eye out for any means of achieving this hope. He missed his mother, Gohan, and home, so much that at times it tore him up, and he had to fight back hot tears which he couldn't let show, so ended up with a tight, sore feeling in his chest.
And now they were only hours away from landing at planet Vegita.
He would be taken round all the most important Lords, and Men of the Court and Counsel. Then his distant cousins would come offering him gifts and hoping for a place of higher power ('The little scabs!' said Parsnal. 'Stick your nose in the air and ignore them'). And then he would be introduced to his people after the royal banquet which was even now being prepared, many hundreds of miles below. There would be crowds of welcoming masses at the landing bay. Not only the Court and Council, but normal, low classed civilians too.
In just hours...They would pass Planter Vegita's moon soon. Parsnal was programming the ships shutters to close soon, because the moon was full, and he, unlike Trunks, had a tail.
Trunks sighed and watched the shutters close, then turned from the window and continued to wait in his room.
*************
"There's no time!" Maroda wailed as she burst through the door of her spacious mansion. She strode along the long floor -shiny from hours of polishing- of the entrance hall, her footsteps echoing in the silence of the slaves voiceless presence, and took the stairs in a most un-lady-like manner two at a time. "Lushka! If you're not home..." She left the threat hanging, but her voice spoke of what would happen to her daughter if she failed to answer. The twelve year old girl appeared at the top of the softly carpeted stairs, pulling her long hair into a high tail. "I was going out, Mother." She twisted her pretty face into an annoyed look, "I'm meeting the girls at the Palace." *And I'm not having you ruin my night,* Lushka thought, her mother was far more powerful than she was, and she wasn't going to risk broken bones, or unsightly bruises. "Cancel it." The words were short, and her voice was daggerblade sharp. "The Prince arrives tonight, in a few mere hours. If I'm to be in the running for his escort, and then Queen, I must not miss his arrival." Maroda swept through the high halls towards her private chambers, her daughter kept pace, walking slightly behind her as was required. The older woman stopped pace just before the huge carved wooden door, deeply engraved into gorgeous patterns, gold rivers ran in each of the wooden valleys. "Why is this door not opening!" She demanded, and one of the half grown slaves scurried forward to open the door to her rooms. One white gloved hand drew back, and slapped the slave across the face, making the nameless underling bite her tongue and causing her mouth to fill with blood, the slave drew back quickly, forbidden tears pricking her eyes. "Next time, act quickly." Lushka parted her mothers silky black locks, and carefully- her mothers tongue was as sharp as her slap- brushed the ebony waterfall until perfect, then secured it with a red-jewelled hairpiece, and helped her mother into her dress. Red velvet, strapless and knee length, the dress was stunning, and if she positioned herself skilfully, she would be the first female the Prince caught sight of, putting her ahead of the other, less prepared Saiyan women. A ruby necklace finished the look, and flat slip on shoes -cerise, a darker colour than her outfit- dressed her feet nicely. Maroda made her own lips shine with the mouth-colour sitting on the counterpane, used only for occasions such as this. Delicately pointed nose in the air, she ordered Lushka to dress herself and be ready for their escort, and made her own way down the stairs, the light tap-tap-tap of her shoes warned the slaves to be close by, but not within slapping distance, a distance many of the older -or more careful- slave were experts at judging. ************* The pair made a stunning entrance to the royal docking bay, where the Prince would be arriving in less than an hour; Lushka was dressed in an almost-black, purple material that caught the light and threw it back into the gathered crowds envois eyes. None -she knew and believed- could afford this material, the assembled were made up of commoners, held back behind glass walls as they came from all parts to witness the homecoming of their Prince. The planet had been without King nor Prince since King Vegita's tragic death, and since then the search for the vanished Prince Vegita had undergone a revival, after three years of waiting for their King to produce another heir, not one that goes gallivanting off searching for the mythical "Balls of the Dragon King", the ledged Prince Vegita had believed, and gone to find. The news that the Prince had been located on a distant, mostly-water planet called something like Eaa-arth, had spread like wildfire, and a messenger had been sent to find and retrieve the lost Prince, as it was assumed he had lost any means of transportation back to his rightful kingdom. Everyone expected the Prince they had known, the obdurate, hard faced, and strong Prince Vegita that has left over a decade ago. What they got was Trunks. Lushka saw him first, walking in front of the herald sent to find him, and set a disbelieving look on her face -Who is this child?- until it became obvious no Prince Vegita was going to be emerging any time in the future. Pale hair, blue eyes -Blue? Was he exposed to radiation in the womb?- and a look on his face that said he certainly did not want to be there, caused a stunned silence of the crowd, many mouths hung open. "I introduce to you all." The herald bowed first to the higher born citizens standing behind Maroda -she had managed to position herself so the Prince would see her and her daughter first- and second to the crowds behind the glass walls. "To our new Prince Vegita, our old King Vegita's Grandson, and our rouge Prince's son." The blue eyed boy restrained himself from looking around for the Prince, kept his eyes on the ground as if his shoes -a make Lushka had never seen before, they must be from that water-planet he lived on- were of great interest. A message beeped onto the scouter he wore, instructing him to bow to his people, and Trunks, feeling like a fraud, bowed. The stunned silence wore off, and the crowds cheered, steam from many yelling, breathing Saiyans clouded the glass walls. Maroda swept forward and introduced herself to the young Prince, then half turned and beckoned her daughter, who she now looked on with a greater love, to come and meet the Prince. Lushka looking sweet but feeling sour, dipped gracefully into a curtsey. "Welcome home, Prince Vegita." She said, raising her eyes to meet his own, startlingly blue ones.