Undiscovered Territory
CHAPTER SIX: Research and Revelation
Dende fought the urge to hold his breath, knowing that it would not help his situation. Though there likely was not a great deal of air in here: a small room in which were two other people and a crowd of unpleasant looking devices. Not that the two people were any more pleasant.
He continued to wriggle in Scree's grasp, unwilling to resign himself to the next happenings, whatever they were to be. The only thing he knew for sure was that they were likely to hurt.
Just as always, Scree did not seem to notice his struggles. He pulled him along effortlessly and hoisted him up onto a table. "Just calm down, little one. This is only the early stage. You've nothing to worry about . . . yet."
As if that were encouraging. And even less encouraging was the form of Doctor Gneiss, who had her back to him, puttering around the small enclosure like anyone else would a living room. Such a homey sight was out of place here. Downright eerie, fact.
Scargo, as frightened as he probably was being alone in the other room, was probably in better psychological shape than Dende was at the moment.
Finally, he managed to slip his wrist free, and briefly considered making a break for the door, but thought better of it. He would have to go through both Scree and Doctor Gneiss, plus punch a code into the keypad in order to get the door open. To be stuck here . . .
Doctor Gneiss turned, flat blue eyes carrying an expression akin to glee as she held a small pointed object in her yellow hands. "This will do to start." She paused, noticing that Dende was no longer in Scree's grip. "Ah. I see you've decided to be sensible. Rare feat for a child." Casually, she advanced toward him, and he scooted backward in response. "Oh, hold still. All I'm doing is taking a blood sample. Why every creature seems to be so sensitive to this . . ."
Dende's brow wrinkled in puzzlement, a match for the expression on the scientist's face. The female appeared to be genuinely confused that anybody would object to being stabbed with pointy objects. Dende wondered for a moment if she would like it if somebody tried to do that to her. Though perhaps she would; she seemed mad enough for that.
The needle entered his flesh, sinking into his upper arm. Startled, he jerked it away, aggravating his injured shoulder and sending a hot slice of pain across and beneath his skin. He cried out and huddled against the wall, pressing his hand to the wound. The cut was deep, and blood sluggishly rose up from its depths. An urge to try and heal the wound suddenly came upon him, but he refused it. He would not dare show such a talent when an enemy was about. The last time he'd done that, he had ended up dead. Not that bleeding was going to help him much, but perhaps he would get some time to himself later.
"Such a touchy little thing you are. You wouldn't have gotten hurt if you'd just held still as I'd ordered you to do. Scree, hand me a cloth."
Curiously, Dende opened one eye (he had squeezed them shut in response to the pain) to find the scientist calmly regarding the bloodstained object in her hand. And she was not just calm, but held an expression of intense interest. Yes she was mad, to hold an intense interest in blood. She took the cloth when Scree offered it to her and casually wiped it off.
"This one is going to be trouble, Scree," she said, nonchalantly throwing the cloth aside when she was finished. She raised the needle closer to her face so that she could better examine the blood. "Before we go any further, we're going to have to sedate him. Get him ready while I put this in storage."
Sedate him? That was not a pleasant thought for Dende to be left with as Doctor Gneiss left the room, if only for the moment. While he wasn't thrilled of being an experimental subject as it was, he rather preferred to know what was happening to him. If he were unconscious or otherwise incapacitated, who knew what kind of procedures they would decide to perform upon him?
He tensed as Scree stepped toward him, strange eyes focusing on him pointedly. Though Dende paused for a second, as he thought he saw a hint of sadness in those eyes. The pain must have been making him see things, for after he blinked he could detect it no longer. Yes, simply his imagination.
"I'd told you that it wouldn't hurt much yet, boy," Scree said almost softly. "The struggle only made it worse." He paused, sighed. "I don't really like experimenting on children, you know. Seems cruel, not like experimenting on adults."
Tentatively, Dende spoke. "Experimenting on adults isn't cruel?"
"Adults are better specimens. They can stand more punishment, and . . . yes . . . well they just tolerate it better."
What a strange man. He seemed almost amiable, almost like he could be an ally in this dark place, but his logic was nearly as twisted as that of Doctor Gneiss. How anybody could come to hold a set of beliefs like this was something that Dende would never understand. It was just too bizarre.
"Whoa! What --" Dende had been so caught up in analyzing the statements that he hadn't noticed that Scree had kept moving while he'd spoken. A mask of some manner was placed over Dende's mouth, and he tried to squirm away, but his back was already to the wall and he had no room to move.
And a few breaths later, he lost the ability to move entirely.
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A wave of heat shot past him, very nearly grazing his cheek as he lunged to the side. The ki blast burned a trail in the sky behind him, and presumably flew off harmlessly into space. Letting free a sharp breath, Chiton locked eyes with his attacker.
And there they hung, suspended a mile above the ground, wind tossing Chiton's antennae about while not having a visible effect on his assailant. Indeed the assailant had nothing to stir. No hair, no antennae, and it was dressed in armour as opposed to cloth garments. The only distinguishing feature was the piece of rose-coloured glass over his left eye. An ensemble not unlike one he had seen before . . .
The creature reached up to said piece of glass, pressing a button on the earpiece. "This thing must be defective. It should have picked you up a long time ago." A pattern of foreign symbols scrolled over the glass, and the creature frowned. "Hmm. You seem to be not much stronger than the normal vermin of this planet, though I'm surprised that you managed to dodge my blast. Still, this shouldn't take very long."
Chiton suppressed a smirk – no need to appear cocky before the enemy. While he was not all that powerful despite the fact that he was a warrior class Namek, nor was he broadcasting his true strength. And what he lacked in power, he could make up for in strategy. "Perhaps it will. Perhaps it will not. Either way, I doubt that it is of much substance."
This appeared to ruffle the alien. Good. For all Chiton knew, this alien could be masking his true power as well, so it was perhaps wise to fluster him. To keep him from all important thought in battle. Plus, it was rather entertaining.
"Is your species so fatalistic?" the alien sneered, then suddenly gave a slight smirk. "No, it must just be the adults. The children seem more blatantly foolish."
"Children do not understand the concept of fate." Chiton shrugged. "Though I do not seem to be much better. Or perhaps it is you that is little beyond the comprehension level of a child."
This got a reaction. Smoothly, Chiton ducked as another ki blast blazed in his direction, then shot forward to drive his fist into his assailant's gut. And he followed it with a kick that sent him flying backward.
But a third blow did not land. Or it did, in fact, though this one was absorbed by Chiton's face. He felt a crack below his skin, but his cheek did not give way under the force. Hurriedly, he cleared his head, just in time to send up his arm in a timely block. A jarring sensation rang up his arm; obviously this blow would have caused him serious injury if it had struck his chest as had been intended.
Gathering his ki throughout his body, Chiton whirled out of the block and slammed a knee into his attacker's back. The alien fell a short way, but caught himself and turned about, snarling.
"It does seem to be you that is worse off," Chiton tossed out, continuing his taunting strategy. "I had been wondering if that would be the case. Truly a relief, as I am not a child anymore."
"Strange. You certainly act like one."
Oh, he could not resist a smirk this time. A good verbal spar was always enjoyable, when somebody actually was willing to get into one with him. Not like real battles, where miscalculations could kill instead of, or as well as, making the miscalculator look like an idiot. A pleasant thing death was not.
Sadly, his impressions that the battle would become physical again proved to be true. Such a shame.
The alien charge at him full out, fist cocked, and Chiton barely stopped himself from shaking his head. What bad tactics; his opponent had left himself wide open. Tensing, he slipped into the opening, launching his fist forward --
And missed. The alien vanished into a blur of purple, and Chiton's punch struck nothing but air. Instinct called to him to check his rear, and he spun about to find still nothing. What in the world?
"Ungh!" A heavy blow slammed into his back, knocking the breath from him. Before he could react, another one fell upon the base of his skull. The world bobbled crazily in his vision as he dropped from the sky.
After a few seconds, he managed to right himself, and gathered his ki for a full stop. He looked up to see a painfully bright light growing ever larger over his opponent's hand. The level of power grew greater, and greater . . .
"And it seems that you fight like a child as well!"
Chiton gasped as the alien launched the ki ball, the giant gathering of power that heralded the end of a life. Desperately, he crossed his arms in front of his face in a ki-assisted block . . .
And an explosion seared the air.
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"Hmm?" Limpet pulled himself up short and gazed off into the distance. A brilliance that dwarfed that of the sun originated from there. "Whelk! Hold it. Look there."
Obligingly, Whelk halted. Why he was frowning though, Limpet did not bother to guess. "What is it? Have you actually found something this time?"
Limpet sighed. "Have you no trust in me? I do have a fully functioning brain, you know."
"Just barely."
"Yes, well it still counts," Limpet agreed, chuckling. "Seriously, though. Look."
Whelk followed his gaze, and his frown grew more pronounced. He closed his eyes, relaxed his posture: his traditional pose for detecting ki, something which Limpet had never really gotten around to learning. Things were usually peaceful, so he just didn't see the bother. Whelk on the other hand, ever the uptight perfectionist, practiced the skill constantly. Limpet had to concede that it could come in handy once in a while.
"Feels like a battle." Whelk opened his eyes, which were set even harder than usual. "Let's go. Unless you think you'd have fun someplace else."
Limpet just rolled his eyes. "I truly do wish that you would stop insinuating that I'm a lazy do-nothing. I . . ."
He would have continued his retort, but Whelk was already gone, flying over to where they had detected the disturbance. The guy couldn't have just waited an extra second or two to hear his reply. It wasn't as if it would make all of the difference in the world.
But, that was Whelk. Limpet had learned to deal with him a long time ago. He was used to this sort of thing.
And without further bother on any matter, he followed his partner toward the disturbance.
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Smoke rose from his arms, wafting into the sky in thin black trails. His skin was seared, but only slightly, thanks to the aid of his ki in blocking. Slowly, he lowered his arms, and subtly cast his gaze around for his attacker. Surely, he would follow this attack up, unless he thought that this was enough to fell him. And it almost had been.
Chiton glared up through the last vestiges of smoke to see if his attacker was still in his firing position, and found almost to his surprise that he was. How foolish. Any fighter worth his salt had to know not to stop until he had seen the enemy taken down with his own eyes – not merely enveloped in the smoke or dust left behind after a ki blast, or after the body had sunk into the water, or other such nonsense as that. Things were never assured until they were confirmed by the eyes.
He did not wait for the remainder of the smoke to clear before attacking; he rushed forward, with an elbow extended toward the alien's face. And it connected, the alien not having recovered from the shock of seeing him come out of the blast uninjured.
Chiton's elbow smashed into his face, sending him reeling backward across the sky. He followed this with a kick to the gut, which also landed. Finally, he fired a small ki blast to finish the job and knock his opponent to the ground – he did not want to kill him; he might have valuable information about the children – but the alien had recovered and knocked the ki ball aside with a little effort.
The alien snarled, wiping a way a trickle of blood that had spurted forth from his lips at some point, probably after Chiton's elbow. "You just don't quit, do you, slug?"
"A strange thing to say, considering your situation, I would think," Chiton replied with a smirk. Once more, the taunting began. His preferred method of combat. "After all, you do see to be in worse shape than I am at the moment."
"Well, that won't last for much longer."
Chiton looked up. "I'm afraid that I would have to disagree with you on that one, my friend."
At this, the alien's eyepiece beeped, and foreign symbols once again scrolled across it. The alien turned and caught sight, surely, of what Chiton had seen a few seconds before. Two figures in the air, approaching fast.
Chiton heard the alien mutter something under his breath, probably some sort of curse in another language, and turn back to face him angrily. Before he even had time to react, the alien charged at him full out, fist cocked. Chiton braced himself to block the blow . . .
Save that a blow never came. The alien phased out in front of him, a haze of violet. Chiton turned to his back, and found the alien shooting off into the distance, leaving a ki contrail behind. Chiton would have fired a ki blast after him, but he was already out of range; it would be a waste of energy.
And so he patiently waited a moment more for the two figures to arrive. Not that he wanted to talk to them, mind anyone, but he figured that it would be prudent to get the questioning over with. It would save him a lot of aggravation in the end.
The two came to a stop in front of him, and he recognized them instantly by sight, though he had not been able to do so by their ki. These two were Whelk and Limpet, two of the rather more boring of his fellow villagers to watch. Whelk would have been more interesting had he a sparring partner more often; Chiton very much liked to observe various techniques, and though he could have offered himself as a partner, such was not his inclination. He, unlike most others, learned better by watching than by doing. As for Limpet . . . Well, Chiton had never been interested enough in that silly golf game to actually want to observe anyone playing it. He would rather not fall into a coma.
Unsurprisingly, Whelk spoke first, his voice the very sound of high bearing and authority; just the kind that he always found the most irritating. "Oh, it's you. I suppose I should have known."
Chiton did not reply to this, for he sensed that this was exactly what the other Namek wanted. He would not waste his sarcastic talents on someone who so obviously wanted to get a rise out of him, and he settled for merely staring hard at him in the eyes. Most backed down quickly from this stare, but Whelk was not one of them. Chiton had some measure of respect for that, though he took pleasure in knowing that the looked bothered the usually stoic warrior. He always stiffened ever so slightly, and his jaw clenched in an almost imperceptible manner.
Next to speak, of course, was Limpet. "I must say, it certainly looks like you had a bit of fun over here." He eyed the scorch marks on Chiton's arms. "Care to tell us what happened?"
"Only if you insist." A curt reply, as was Chiton's fashion.
"We insist," Whelk stated simply, crossing his arms over his chest. To most, this posture was intimidating, but Chiton waved it off nonchalantly. Rousing him to emotion was not an easy task, and Whelk was no better equipped to accomplish such a thing than anyone else.
"Very well." Chiton lifted his chin in a gesture of pride that he knew would annoy the other Namek. He looked him level in the eyes once more. "I happen to have gotten into a battle with a foreign creature."
"A foreign creature?" Limpet laughed. "You always did have too stuffy a vocabulary. At least on those rare occasions that you deign to speak with anyone. I suppose we should be honoured that we got anything besides air to come out of your mouth."
Chiton merely fixed a brief glare upon him. It didn't have any more effect than Whelk's crossed arms had had upon him. Limpet was sort of unflappable that way. Not that it really mattered, to tell the truth. He was a minor annoyance much of the time, and minor annoyances were easy to ignore.
Whelk, who characteristically found none of this amusing to the slightest degree, spoke up once more. "What do you mean a foreign creature? An alien? Here?"
"The term would fit."
A low growl escaped Whelk's throat. "Would you stop being so cryptic about your responses and answer something straight out?"
Unimpressed, Chiton frowned. "I've not been cryptic, Whelk. I merely have given you the information that you have requested and nothing more. If you want more information, you have simply to ask me and I shall respond."
This statement prompted a reaction. Whelk growled again, clenching his fists in impotent rage, and if Chiton didn't know better, he would have thought that a vein in his forehead was about to pop. A most amusing sight this was, though Chiton made it a point not to show this. Whelk always seemed to be more offended when he showed no emotion.
"Take it easy, Whelk. Just take it easy. I'll talk to him," Limpet cut in. He placed a hand on Whelk's shoulder in an effort to calm him down, before turning back to Chiton. "So what did this alien look like?"
It was impossible not to note the curiosity in Limpet's tone. For a change, Chiton could not begrudge him something, for he'd had that same impulse himself. Still, he shrugged to maintain the image of nonchalance that he had been projecting. "Nothing impressive. Mottled purple skin, flat black eyes. Wore some interesting garments that remind me a little of the last days of the old planet."
As he would have anticipated, this garnered a reaction, this time from both of his interrogators. Limpet blinked in surprise, while Whelk narrowed his eyes even further. So far in fact, that it was difficult to see the whites and made him look like he had only eye ridges with nothing underneath them. He'd never seen anything quite like it.
"You mean it's happened again?" Whelk finally managed. "The underlings of that beast come to terrorize us once more? I take it that you didn't destroy the thing."
Once more, Chiton did not speak. He merely turned away, though not out of shame, for he had nothing to be ashamed of. Perhaps allowing the alien to escape would have qualified, but that did not bother him in any particular way. And he'd never intended to kill it in the first place, as Whelk's first reaction might have been. Well, after a few harsh demands concerning the whereabouts of the children, anyway.
Finally, he let a few words escape his lips. "Why would I do something like that? Besides, he just slipped away before I could manage to do anything. If you wish to follow him, he went that way." He lifted a slim finger and pointed in the direction in which the alien had flown off. "Good luck finding him, if you so choose. And tell him I said hello while you're at it."
"Are you trying to tell me . . ." Whelk started, and then ceased in frustration. He put a hand on Chiton's shoulder and forced him to turn around. "Would you look at me when I'm talking to you, you insolent little whelp!"
Chiton glared down at the offending hand on his shoulder. He barely tolerated being spoken to most of the time, and touching was outright out of the question. Meeting Whelk's eyes unflinchingly, he reached up and pried the bigger Namek's hand off his shoulder. Coldly, he shoved the hand away after it was no longer touching him.
"I beg to differ on which one of us is acting the more childish at the moment."
Limpet pulled on Whelk's arm, dragging him back a few feet. "Why don't you just relax? Throttling him would probably make anyone feel better, but otherwise won't accomplish much right now. Just lay off a little."
Several forced breaths with no speech. Very visibly, Whelk was trying to rein in his temper. And he had a surprising amount of success at this, for his next words were spoken in a voice that was relatively even. "Are you saying that you're having no more part of this? That creature probably knows what happened to the children and you're just throwing it aside?"
"Call it what you like."
With these words, Chiton gave his interrogators a curt nod, and angled his flight back to the village. He was well away by the time that he heard Whelk's voice again, risen to the volume of fury.
"Fine! Do what you like, you unfeeling coward!"
The words did not phase him, despite their untruth. While there may have been some veracity to the first half of the insult, the latter implication had nothing to do with his choice to return to the village. No, it had nothing to do with it at all.
There was something more at stake here than the children. While Chiton in his own way wanted them returned safely just the same as everyone else, he was not short sighted enough to think that this was the only problem. Aliens didn't typically come to a planet just to kidnap a couple of children – not to his knowledge, anyway. And if the last time they were invaded, very likely by the same people, was any indication . . . .
If it was any indication, then returning to the village was a most prudent decision indeed.
CHAPTER SIX: Research and Revelation
Dende fought the urge to hold his breath, knowing that it would not help his situation. Though there likely was not a great deal of air in here: a small room in which were two other people and a crowd of unpleasant looking devices. Not that the two people were any more pleasant.
He continued to wriggle in Scree's grasp, unwilling to resign himself to the next happenings, whatever they were to be. The only thing he knew for sure was that they were likely to hurt.
Just as always, Scree did not seem to notice his struggles. He pulled him along effortlessly and hoisted him up onto a table. "Just calm down, little one. This is only the early stage. You've nothing to worry about . . . yet."
As if that were encouraging. And even less encouraging was the form of Doctor Gneiss, who had her back to him, puttering around the small enclosure like anyone else would a living room. Such a homey sight was out of place here. Downright eerie, fact.
Scargo, as frightened as he probably was being alone in the other room, was probably in better psychological shape than Dende was at the moment.
Finally, he managed to slip his wrist free, and briefly considered making a break for the door, but thought better of it. He would have to go through both Scree and Doctor Gneiss, plus punch a code into the keypad in order to get the door open. To be stuck here . . .
Doctor Gneiss turned, flat blue eyes carrying an expression akin to glee as she held a small pointed object in her yellow hands. "This will do to start." She paused, noticing that Dende was no longer in Scree's grip. "Ah. I see you've decided to be sensible. Rare feat for a child." Casually, she advanced toward him, and he scooted backward in response. "Oh, hold still. All I'm doing is taking a blood sample. Why every creature seems to be so sensitive to this . . ."
Dende's brow wrinkled in puzzlement, a match for the expression on the scientist's face. The female appeared to be genuinely confused that anybody would object to being stabbed with pointy objects. Dende wondered for a moment if she would like it if somebody tried to do that to her. Though perhaps she would; she seemed mad enough for that.
The needle entered his flesh, sinking into his upper arm. Startled, he jerked it away, aggravating his injured shoulder and sending a hot slice of pain across and beneath his skin. He cried out and huddled against the wall, pressing his hand to the wound. The cut was deep, and blood sluggishly rose up from its depths. An urge to try and heal the wound suddenly came upon him, but he refused it. He would not dare show such a talent when an enemy was about. The last time he'd done that, he had ended up dead. Not that bleeding was going to help him much, but perhaps he would get some time to himself later.
"Such a touchy little thing you are. You wouldn't have gotten hurt if you'd just held still as I'd ordered you to do. Scree, hand me a cloth."
Curiously, Dende opened one eye (he had squeezed them shut in response to the pain) to find the scientist calmly regarding the bloodstained object in her hand. And she was not just calm, but held an expression of intense interest. Yes she was mad, to hold an intense interest in blood. She took the cloth when Scree offered it to her and casually wiped it off.
"This one is going to be trouble, Scree," she said, nonchalantly throwing the cloth aside when she was finished. She raised the needle closer to her face so that she could better examine the blood. "Before we go any further, we're going to have to sedate him. Get him ready while I put this in storage."
Sedate him? That was not a pleasant thought for Dende to be left with as Doctor Gneiss left the room, if only for the moment. While he wasn't thrilled of being an experimental subject as it was, he rather preferred to know what was happening to him. If he were unconscious or otherwise incapacitated, who knew what kind of procedures they would decide to perform upon him?
He tensed as Scree stepped toward him, strange eyes focusing on him pointedly. Though Dende paused for a second, as he thought he saw a hint of sadness in those eyes. The pain must have been making him see things, for after he blinked he could detect it no longer. Yes, simply his imagination.
"I'd told you that it wouldn't hurt much yet, boy," Scree said almost softly. "The struggle only made it worse." He paused, sighed. "I don't really like experimenting on children, you know. Seems cruel, not like experimenting on adults."
Tentatively, Dende spoke. "Experimenting on adults isn't cruel?"
"Adults are better specimens. They can stand more punishment, and . . . yes . . . well they just tolerate it better."
What a strange man. He seemed almost amiable, almost like he could be an ally in this dark place, but his logic was nearly as twisted as that of Doctor Gneiss. How anybody could come to hold a set of beliefs like this was something that Dende would never understand. It was just too bizarre.
"Whoa! What --" Dende had been so caught up in analyzing the statements that he hadn't noticed that Scree had kept moving while he'd spoken. A mask of some manner was placed over Dende's mouth, and he tried to squirm away, but his back was already to the wall and he had no room to move.
And a few breaths later, he lost the ability to move entirely.
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A wave of heat shot past him, very nearly grazing his cheek as he lunged to the side. The ki blast burned a trail in the sky behind him, and presumably flew off harmlessly into space. Letting free a sharp breath, Chiton locked eyes with his attacker.
And there they hung, suspended a mile above the ground, wind tossing Chiton's antennae about while not having a visible effect on his assailant. Indeed the assailant had nothing to stir. No hair, no antennae, and it was dressed in armour as opposed to cloth garments. The only distinguishing feature was the piece of rose-coloured glass over his left eye. An ensemble not unlike one he had seen before . . .
The creature reached up to said piece of glass, pressing a button on the earpiece. "This thing must be defective. It should have picked you up a long time ago." A pattern of foreign symbols scrolled over the glass, and the creature frowned. "Hmm. You seem to be not much stronger than the normal vermin of this planet, though I'm surprised that you managed to dodge my blast. Still, this shouldn't take very long."
Chiton suppressed a smirk – no need to appear cocky before the enemy. While he was not all that powerful despite the fact that he was a warrior class Namek, nor was he broadcasting his true strength. And what he lacked in power, he could make up for in strategy. "Perhaps it will. Perhaps it will not. Either way, I doubt that it is of much substance."
This appeared to ruffle the alien. Good. For all Chiton knew, this alien could be masking his true power as well, so it was perhaps wise to fluster him. To keep him from all important thought in battle. Plus, it was rather entertaining.
"Is your species so fatalistic?" the alien sneered, then suddenly gave a slight smirk. "No, it must just be the adults. The children seem more blatantly foolish."
"Children do not understand the concept of fate." Chiton shrugged. "Though I do not seem to be much better. Or perhaps it is you that is little beyond the comprehension level of a child."
This got a reaction. Smoothly, Chiton ducked as another ki blast blazed in his direction, then shot forward to drive his fist into his assailant's gut. And he followed it with a kick that sent him flying backward.
But a third blow did not land. Or it did, in fact, though this one was absorbed by Chiton's face. He felt a crack below his skin, but his cheek did not give way under the force. Hurriedly, he cleared his head, just in time to send up his arm in a timely block. A jarring sensation rang up his arm; obviously this blow would have caused him serious injury if it had struck his chest as had been intended.
Gathering his ki throughout his body, Chiton whirled out of the block and slammed a knee into his attacker's back. The alien fell a short way, but caught himself and turned about, snarling.
"It does seem to be you that is worse off," Chiton tossed out, continuing his taunting strategy. "I had been wondering if that would be the case. Truly a relief, as I am not a child anymore."
"Strange. You certainly act like one."
Oh, he could not resist a smirk this time. A good verbal spar was always enjoyable, when somebody actually was willing to get into one with him. Not like real battles, where miscalculations could kill instead of, or as well as, making the miscalculator look like an idiot. A pleasant thing death was not.
Sadly, his impressions that the battle would become physical again proved to be true. Such a shame.
The alien charge at him full out, fist cocked, and Chiton barely stopped himself from shaking his head. What bad tactics; his opponent had left himself wide open. Tensing, he slipped into the opening, launching his fist forward --
And missed. The alien vanished into a blur of purple, and Chiton's punch struck nothing but air. Instinct called to him to check his rear, and he spun about to find still nothing. What in the world?
"Ungh!" A heavy blow slammed into his back, knocking the breath from him. Before he could react, another one fell upon the base of his skull. The world bobbled crazily in his vision as he dropped from the sky.
After a few seconds, he managed to right himself, and gathered his ki for a full stop. He looked up to see a painfully bright light growing ever larger over his opponent's hand. The level of power grew greater, and greater . . .
"And it seems that you fight like a child as well!"
Chiton gasped as the alien launched the ki ball, the giant gathering of power that heralded the end of a life. Desperately, he crossed his arms in front of his face in a ki-assisted block . . .
And an explosion seared the air.
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"Hmm?" Limpet pulled himself up short and gazed off into the distance. A brilliance that dwarfed that of the sun originated from there. "Whelk! Hold it. Look there."
Obligingly, Whelk halted. Why he was frowning though, Limpet did not bother to guess. "What is it? Have you actually found something this time?"
Limpet sighed. "Have you no trust in me? I do have a fully functioning brain, you know."
"Just barely."
"Yes, well it still counts," Limpet agreed, chuckling. "Seriously, though. Look."
Whelk followed his gaze, and his frown grew more pronounced. He closed his eyes, relaxed his posture: his traditional pose for detecting ki, something which Limpet had never really gotten around to learning. Things were usually peaceful, so he just didn't see the bother. Whelk on the other hand, ever the uptight perfectionist, practiced the skill constantly. Limpet had to concede that it could come in handy once in a while.
"Feels like a battle." Whelk opened his eyes, which were set even harder than usual. "Let's go. Unless you think you'd have fun someplace else."
Limpet just rolled his eyes. "I truly do wish that you would stop insinuating that I'm a lazy do-nothing. I . . ."
He would have continued his retort, but Whelk was already gone, flying over to where they had detected the disturbance. The guy couldn't have just waited an extra second or two to hear his reply. It wasn't as if it would make all of the difference in the world.
But, that was Whelk. Limpet had learned to deal with him a long time ago. He was used to this sort of thing.
And without further bother on any matter, he followed his partner toward the disturbance.
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Smoke rose from his arms, wafting into the sky in thin black trails. His skin was seared, but only slightly, thanks to the aid of his ki in blocking. Slowly, he lowered his arms, and subtly cast his gaze around for his attacker. Surely, he would follow this attack up, unless he thought that this was enough to fell him. And it almost had been.
Chiton glared up through the last vestiges of smoke to see if his attacker was still in his firing position, and found almost to his surprise that he was. How foolish. Any fighter worth his salt had to know not to stop until he had seen the enemy taken down with his own eyes – not merely enveloped in the smoke or dust left behind after a ki blast, or after the body had sunk into the water, or other such nonsense as that. Things were never assured until they were confirmed by the eyes.
He did not wait for the remainder of the smoke to clear before attacking; he rushed forward, with an elbow extended toward the alien's face. And it connected, the alien not having recovered from the shock of seeing him come out of the blast uninjured.
Chiton's elbow smashed into his face, sending him reeling backward across the sky. He followed this with a kick to the gut, which also landed. Finally, he fired a small ki blast to finish the job and knock his opponent to the ground – he did not want to kill him; he might have valuable information about the children – but the alien had recovered and knocked the ki ball aside with a little effort.
The alien snarled, wiping a way a trickle of blood that had spurted forth from his lips at some point, probably after Chiton's elbow. "You just don't quit, do you, slug?"
"A strange thing to say, considering your situation, I would think," Chiton replied with a smirk. Once more, the taunting began. His preferred method of combat. "After all, you do see to be in worse shape than I am at the moment."
"Well, that won't last for much longer."
Chiton looked up. "I'm afraid that I would have to disagree with you on that one, my friend."
At this, the alien's eyepiece beeped, and foreign symbols once again scrolled across it. The alien turned and caught sight, surely, of what Chiton had seen a few seconds before. Two figures in the air, approaching fast.
Chiton heard the alien mutter something under his breath, probably some sort of curse in another language, and turn back to face him angrily. Before he even had time to react, the alien charged at him full out, fist cocked. Chiton braced himself to block the blow . . .
Save that a blow never came. The alien phased out in front of him, a haze of violet. Chiton turned to his back, and found the alien shooting off into the distance, leaving a ki contrail behind. Chiton would have fired a ki blast after him, but he was already out of range; it would be a waste of energy.
And so he patiently waited a moment more for the two figures to arrive. Not that he wanted to talk to them, mind anyone, but he figured that it would be prudent to get the questioning over with. It would save him a lot of aggravation in the end.
The two came to a stop in front of him, and he recognized them instantly by sight, though he had not been able to do so by their ki. These two were Whelk and Limpet, two of the rather more boring of his fellow villagers to watch. Whelk would have been more interesting had he a sparring partner more often; Chiton very much liked to observe various techniques, and though he could have offered himself as a partner, such was not his inclination. He, unlike most others, learned better by watching than by doing. As for Limpet . . . Well, Chiton had never been interested enough in that silly golf game to actually want to observe anyone playing it. He would rather not fall into a coma.
Unsurprisingly, Whelk spoke first, his voice the very sound of high bearing and authority; just the kind that he always found the most irritating. "Oh, it's you. I suppose I should have known."
Chiton did not reply to this, for he sensed that this was exactly what the other Namek wanted. He would not waste his sarcastic talents on someone who so obviously wanted to get a rise out of him, and he settled for merely staring hard at him in the eyes. Most backed down quickly from this stare, but Whelk was not one of them. Chiton had some measure of respect for that, though he took pleasure in knowing that the looked bothered the usually stoic warrior. He always stiffened ever so slightly, and his jaw clenched in an almost imperceptible manner.
Next to speak, of course, was Limpet. "I must say, it certainly looks like you had a bit of fun over here." He eyed the scorch marks on Chiton's arms. "Care to tell us what happened?"
"Only if you insist." A curt reply, as was Chiton's fashion.
"We insist," Whelk stated simply, crossing his arms over his chest. To most, this posture was intimidating, but Chiton waved it off nonchalantly. Rousing him to emotion was not an easy task, and Whelk was no better equipped to accomplish such a thing than anyone else.
"Very well." Chiton lifted his chin in a gesture of pride that he knew would annoy the other Namek. He looked him level in the eyes once more. "I happen to have gotten into a battle with a foreign creature."
"A foreign creature?" Limpet laughed. "You always did have too stuffy a vocabulary. At least on those rare occasions that you deign to speak with anyone. I suppose we should be honoured that we got anything besides air to come out of your mouth."
Chiton merely fixed a brief glare upon him. It didn't have any more effect than Whelk's crossed arms had had upon him. Limpet was sort of unflappable that way. Not that it really mattered, to tell the truth. He was a minor annoyance much of the time, and minor annoyances were easy to ignore.
Whelk, who characteristically found none of this amusing to the slightest degree, spoke up once more. "What do you mean a foreign creature? An alien? Here?"
"The term would fit."
A low growl escaped Whelk's throat. "Would you stop being so cryptic about your responses and answer something straight out?"
Unimpressed, Chiton frowned. "I've not been cryptic, Whelk. I merely have given you the information that you have requested and nothing more. If you want more information, you have simply to ask me and I shall respond."
This statement prompted a reaction. Whelk growled again, clenching his fists in impotent rage, and if Chiton didn't know better, he would have thought that a vein in his forehead was about to pop. A most amusing sight this was, though Chiton made it a point not to show this. Whelk always seemed to be more offended when he showed no emotion.
"Take it easy, Whelk. Just take it easy. I'll talk to him," Limpet cut in. He placed a hand on Whelk's shoulder in an effort to calm him down, before turning back to Chiton. "So what did this alien look like?"
It was impossible not to note the curiosity in Limpet's tone. For a change, Chiton could not begrudge him something, for he'd had that same impulse himself. Still, he shrugged to maintain the image of nonchalance that he had been projecting. "Nothing impressive. Mottled purple skin, flat black eyes. Wore some interesting garments that remind me a little of the last days of the old planet."
As he would have anticipated, this garnered a reaction, this time from both of his interrogators. Limpet blinked in surprise, while Whelk narrowed his eyes even further. So far in fact, that it was difficult to see the whites and made him look like he had only eye ridges with nothing underneath them. He'd never seen anything quite like it.
"You mean it's happened again?" Whelk finally managed. "The underlings of that beast come to terrorize us once more? I take it that you didn't destroy the thing."
Once more, Chiton did not speak. He merely turned away, though not out of shame, for he had nothing to be ashamed of. Perhaps allowing the alien to escape would have qualified, but that did not bother him in any particular way. And he'd never intended to kill it in the first place, as Whelk's first reaction might have been. Well, after a few harsh demands concerning the whereabouts of the children, anyway.
Finally, he let a few words escape his lips. "Why would I do something like that? Besides, he just slipped away before I could manage to do anything. If you wish to follow him, he went that way." He lifted a slim finger and pointed in the direction in which the alien had flown off. "Good luck finding him, if you so choose. And tell him I said hello while you're at it."
"Are you trying to tell me . . ." Whelk started, and then ceased in frustration. He put a hand on Chiton's shoulder and forced him to turn around. "Would you look at me when I'm talking to you, you insolent little whelp!"
Chiton glared down at the offending hand on his shoulder. He barely tolerated being spoken to most of the time, and touching was outright out of the question. Meeting Whelk's eyes unflinchingly, he reached up and pried the bigger Namek's hand off his shoulder. Coldly, he shoved the hand away after it was no longer touching him.
"I beg to differ on which one of us is acting the more childish at the moment."
Limpet pulled on Whelk's arm, dragging him back a few feet. "Why don't you just relax? Throttling him would probably make anyone feel better, but otherwise won't accomplish much right now. Just lay off a little."
Several forced breaths with no speech. Very visibly, Whelk was trying to rein in his temper. And he had a surprising amount of success at this, for his next words were spoken in a voice that was relatively even. "Are you saying that you're having no more part of this? That creature probably knows what happened to the children and you're just throwing it aside?"
"Call it what you like."
With these words, Chiton gave his interrogators a curt nod, and angled his flight back to the village. He was well away by the time that he heard Whelk's voice again, risen to the volume of fury.
"Fine! Do what you like, you unfeeling coward!"
The words did not phase him, despite their untruth. While there may have been some veracity to the first half of the insult, the latter implication had nothing to do with his choice to return to the village. No, it had nothing to do with it at all.
There was something more at stake here than the children. While Chiton in his own way wanted them returned safely just the same as everyone else, he was not short sighted enough to think that this was the only problem. Aliens didn't typically come to a planet just to kidnap a couple of children – not to his knowledge, anyway. And if the last time they were invaded, very likely by the same people, was any indication . . . .
If it was any indication, then returning to the village was a most prudent decision indeed.