Chapter 11: Plans and Adjustments.
The brilliant flashes of lightning that illuminated the sealed glass chamber beyond Damos were a satisfying sight to his eyes. That feeling was heightened by a pair of shrill, tortured cries coming from inside the circular area, specifically from the two soldiers attached to the black, cable-entangled pods in the middle. He had purposely ordered the construction of his 'disciplinary chambers' without the luxury of soundproof materials. Not only was it gratifying - sometimes deeply invigorating depending on his mood - to hear the screams of those who'd disappointed him in the line of duty, but it always sent a loud, clear message to any soldier passing within a few decks of the area. He did not tolerate sloppiness or failure.
Though I hardly expected the good captain to be on the receiving end of the neuroshock treatment...
Infernia had been hooked into the left pod, her arms and legs concealed by the black, tube-like restraints. A similarly colored mask- helmet was attached to her head, dark cables and electrodes running out of the top. She was gritting her gold fangs, struggling to resist the bombardment of energy directly onto her brain, but even her tenacity broke to the repeated doses of shocks and volts. Her screaming was as loud as any other who had been in the pod.
Too bad, firefly... He thought of Infernia using his old pet name for her, shaking his head slightly. He didn't consider himself to be a being without personal affections, but even his feelings for her had to be set aside to accommodate the regulations within his fleet. Without strict law and order, a leader became weak and vulnerable from certain sides, and eventually the feeling of total control over his minions was deteriorated, perhaps destroyed. Damos had no intention of becoming such a flawed leader. The last respectable ruler he'd known that had exhibited such characteristics had been gradually turned into a subordinate of a foreign power. That ruler was eventually destroyed viciously by what he thought was a 'business partnership.' No, that was not what Damos would become. He reminded himself of that every time he felt compelled to show leniency on Infernia for what few mistakes she did make.
However, Damos hadn't given a second thought to the other creature in the chamber as to whether or not he should've been disciplined. As powerful and bloodthirsty as Zebus was, he was hardly ever viable for any of the responsibilities that his duty required. The Trisgammans that had once dominated piracy in the outer reaches of the galaxy had been a disgusting, murderous race of thieves and liars. It had been deeply gratifying when Damos had been called on to help exterminate their repulsive hides from existence. In addition to eliminating competition to his trade, Damos had also acquired Zebus and his two Trisgamman counterparts - Goljor and Bargrey - from one of the last of the sinking Trisgamman warships. They'd been young then, easily manipulated and trained to serve in his army as powerful front-line warriors. The problems had arisen when they'd found out about their race's fate at Damos's hands, and despite their loyalty to him - they did owe him their lives, after all - they'd begun to evolve into renegades of sorts unless ordered by the general himself. Thus, it felt even more gratifying listening to Zebus's whining insect voice screech through the discipline session. It was almost enough to jar Damos out of the foul mood he'd been put into when the two had returned empty-handed and without one of his Horde members...
"How much longer, sir?" The gaunt, bald soldier at the control panel next to Damos spoke over the sizzling current with a flat, unemotional voice.
"Give it five minutes more at current energy levels, and bring them down. They're to remain on board and await further orders," he replied.
"Five minutes more? Understood, sir," The same indifference showed in the soldier's voice again as he began adjusting the timers on the control panel.
The general glanced down at the nearly-skeletal face of the soldier with satisfaction. Creatures of the race that Technician Gar-T'sed came from bore no attachment to any sentiment whatsoever, only reproducing to continue the existence of their power-hungry species. That was why many of his kind were stationed at the disciplinary chambers and at the lab stations aboard his private science vessel, the Demonic; they could easily keep anybody under near-lethal conditions for as long as they were ordered without feeling guilty or hesitant about it. Gar-T'sed had been as unwavering as before when the Earth queen had been put through a similar neuroshock session, even though that was more for Damos's own amusement.
"When your work here is completed, Technician, report to Shuttle Bay Nine for transport back to the Demonic. I'll be in need of your assistance there among my new projects."
"Understood, general," Gar-T'sed nodded once more before turning away from Damos and back to monitoring the two creatures inside the chamber. The general himself also turned and headed for the door. He'd seen enough of the disciplinary session to satisfy his tastes; besides, he had other pieces of business to take care of now that Captain Infernia had failed to overtake the Crystal Tokyo palace. He'd have to reorganize his strategy for overtaking the palace in an acceptable rate of time, and he was scheduled to deliver another report to Crix in ten minutes. The emissary to his employers was not going to be happy with the setback - Damos had promised them deliverance of the palace with the last transmission...
The doors to the disciplinary chamber whooshed open as he passed the motion sensors, and as expected, Parvyx and Reddyx were both standing silently outside, watching over the entrance like a pair of mighty, black- armored statues. He admired the fierce loyalty and commitment of the two senior members of his Horde - they would indeed follow him to the depths of Hell and back without question, and they were powerful enough to survive the trip.
"Our business is concluded here," Damos snapped the two warriors out of their stances, both of them standing at attention before their liege. "I need to make a few personal calls, so I will be returning to my quarters alone."
"But sir," Parvyx's deep, rumbling voice resounded around them. "What about Tridyx? Will we not pursue and destroy his killers?"
"Patience, Parvyx," Damos said. Even though a lot of his face-to-face encounters with lower soldiers resulted in a speak-when-spoken-to style of conversation, the Horde members were his elite; they were competent enough to offer useful opinions, and the verbal exchanges were more informal as a result. "We still need to analyze the information from the captain's scouter so we can get a better idea of who these new mystery warriors are. There is no sense in rushing into an attack blindly without understanding what we're up against. Tridyx did that to the Namek according to Infernia's initial report, and it got him killed."
"Killed by Crystal Tokyo scum?" Reddyx's damaged vocal chords produced a silent ominous whisper. "Tridyx must've been weaker than we thought. He was not worthy to be among us in the Horde."
"As brash and headstrong as Tridyx was, he was still one of us," Damos objected to his subordinate's remarks. "And he was worthy to wear the black armor of the Horde. Hence, whoever his killers are shall be met with great reciprocation when we track them down."
"I will avenge him..." Parvyx rumbled again. Damos could understand his anger - Tridyx had been promoted to the Horde on advice from the gigantic sentinel, who'd trained him significantly in powerful ki techniques. "No Namek kills one of us and lives to see the light of another day..."
"What's also worthy of further examination is that according to Infernia, there was no apparent alliance between these new warriors and the Crystal Tokyo Special Forces. And this is the first time I've heard of a Namek existing for the past few thousand years. Whomever these men are, they definitely were 'out of place,' according to the captain."
"What do you suspect, general?" Reddyx spoke again, intrigued. "Could they be mercenaries like us? Or just some secret weapons that Serenity had in the wings for just such an emergency?"
"I cannot make any judgments without first examining the scouter information," Damos said, pulling the gold-tinted machine out from the pocket cut out of his black, red-trimmed cloak. "Reddyx, take this to Analysis Deck Two and play back whatever lies in its memory banks. I want the data sent to my private chambers at once for my own review."
"As you command, my lord," Reddyx reached out a warped, muscular arm, plucking the scouter from Damos's hand and striding down the brightly-lit hallway and out of sight.
"My lord, grant me command of a battalion and let me exact my own revenge for my fallen comrade!" Parvyx growled, unable to resist his anger. Damos was quick to stifle the burly soldier, knowing that Parvyx's short temper could easily explode from the slightest incitement.
"Calm yourself, Parvyx," he said with a less casual tone. "You have other matters to concern yourself with. Thanks to our captain's failure, we're going to try a different approach at the palace capture."
"What do you have in mind, sir?" Parvyx asked.
"We'll go with a standard siege approach until we come up with a better idea about who these new warriors are," Damos decided. "There's no sense in taking unnecessary risks. I want you to report to Main Communications and relay a priority-A order to the Star Cruiser Sabre. They're to arm and send ten battalions into the west sector of the city to reinforce the lines. I want no Crystal Tokyo trash to get outside the palace perimeter. Once the scouter information is analyzed, I will personally transmit further instructions to them."
The order seemed to calm the giant, the idea of better serving his general suppressing his vengeful rage.
"Of course, general," he nodded. "Smothering those insects seems more appropriate."
"Indeed," Damos agreed, pleased with Parvyx's persistence. "Afterwards, I want you to report to Shuttle Bay Nine and wait for me there. When I arrive, we shall transport to the Demonic. I wish to examine my 'trophy collection.'"
"The Demonic?" Parvyx's shoulders shifted, and Damos noticed the sudden nervousness sprouting in his eyes. "Do you intend to release--"
"Not at the moment," Damos cut him off. "The standard army should suffice for capturing the palace. The rest of the fledgling civilization should collapse soon afterwards. I want to release my personal genetic squad onto the battlefield when a special occasion comes around. Such an easy conquest does not qualify as such."
"As you order, my liege," he bowed his head toward Damos. "But when the time comes, may I have the pleasure of obliterating those low-lifes?"
"The Namek's head is as good as yours, Parvyx," Damos acknowledged him. "Dismissed."
Parvyx marched down the steel-lined corridor and out of sight, leaving Damos alone in the hall. He certainly hoped that the Namek who'd killed Tridyx was as powerful as Captain Infernia seemed to believe. He'd need all of the fighting spirit he could muster if Parvyx ever got his meaty fists around his neck. And Damos wouldn't stop his senior Horde soldier from exacting that revenge - Parvyx had served him well in the past years, and he was entitled to some personal wishes from time to time.
As long as he doesn't make the same mistake Tridyx made...
Damos put his musings on hold momentarily, striding down the hallway toward the elevator, the screams from the disciplinary chamber dying down. His boot steps echoed softly on the steel floor panels, the buzzing fluorescent ceiling lights gleaming off of his polished armor. At this hour, most off-duty soldiers were asleep or in the mess decks catching a late meal. Damos preferred the emptiness - without the bustle and clutter filling the halls of the Terror, he could go about his thoughts at a comfortable pace, planning his way throughout whatever task was laid before him. The view from the plexiglass windows lining the right side of the hall also provided a calming image. Beyond the protective barriers of his ship, Damos was able to stare out at the countless stars spanning the black void of space. He always took pride in the fact that hovering near quite a few of those stars were dead shells of planets that his forces had been paid to eradicate.
The large blue sphere floating a good distance away from his flagship represented what would be their next victory, their next sum of money. As beautiful as Earth was, he'd seen much better during his long career as head of his army, though his orders for obtaining control of the planet had been unique, to say the least, much like his employers...
Damos turned the bend that took him to the end of the hall. He stepped through the circular door embedded into the wall and onto the transport elevator.
"Private wing, sector one," he said to the voice controls. The lift complied, sealing the doors and activating a set of internal lights as the propulsion system did its work. It took only a few minutes for the transportation lift to arrive at its location: the quarters for the senior crew members of the Terror, including the general's. Normal soldiers were lucky to even see this section of Damos's flagship.
He stepped onto the plush carpeting lining the well-heated corridor, hasty in his steps to return to his private chambers and the isolated communications station within it. He couldn't help but notice that his pulse was racing and his muscles were becoming tense. The upcoming communication with Crix would be even more agonizing than usual, especially since he'd practically promised victory to him with the last transmission.
A minor setback... Damos reminded himself as a touch on a wall-switch opened the ornate door in front of him. That's all. The palace will fall soon enough, and the queen's seven new heroes along with it.
The thought of his forces being ambushed so unexpectedly still frustrated him despite his optimism. Any of his battalions being caught unawares and getting so easily driven away, especially his top warriors, was considered a monumental embarrassment in his mind. It was just so, so...unprofessional. And his army was anything but that.
Glancing around the spacious, well-furnished living room revealed his quarters to be empty and quiet except for the slight buzzing of the lighting fixtures mounted on the polished walls. It wouldn't be so mercifully peaceful for long - Infernia would be returning anytime now, and she wouldn't be in a pleasant mood.
Ah, the consequences of being the commander. He remarked to himself as he stepped past his trophy cases and into his own personal office. Infernia would be rightfully enraged, that was for sure, but she would certainly relent once he calmed her down a bit; it wouldn't be the first time he'd have to cool off her fiery blood.
He glanced over at the bulky, cube-shaped transmitter station installed in the far corner of the room, doubting that the same tactic would work against Crix. His cold ruthlessness wasn't vulnerable to any type of emotion, as his last transmission had indicated.
A flick of a few switches and the unit thrummed to life. After inputting the necessary access codes and securing the headset, Damos quickly established the link, eager to get the confrontation overwith
There was silence at first after the connection was made, irritating the general a bit further. But finally, Crix's voice resounded through the headset.
"This is Crix. What news do you bring us, general? You assured us an update of victory during our last transmission."
"We've...encountered some minor setbacks," he replied in a cool, even tone. "The reinforcements on the planet were more tenacious than we previously calculated, and we had to postpone our final attack."
"How unfortunate..." Crix's voice didn't reveal any immediate anger, but Damos could tell that he was more than disappointed. "It seems that perhaps we overestimated the efficiency of your army, general...when we made our agreement, you assured us that there would be no mistakes, no overlooking a single detail. And here you are, returning in defeat over such a minor issue of insufficient reconnaissance."
Damos fought to contain his anger as Crix spoke, but he maintained his composure, aware that retorting the insult could prove to be fatal to their contract.
"It was an unavoidable circumstance, Crix, a variable that exists in any type of planetary warfare. Surely, no army can control every element during a global campaign with such enemy resistance; the laws of war simply don't allow it. The capture of their capital will take place soon, I can assure you. This was a fluke and nothing more."
"You tread in dangerous waters with your excuses, general," Crix was unmoved, as Damos expected. "Do not patronize me about the laws of war. Just secure their capital stronghold soon. Our preparations shall be complete soon, and our master would not be merciful if you did not live up to your end of the deal. Be aware of that, Damos, as you plan the rest of your campaign. Crix, out."
"Wait!!" Too late, the transmission was cut, and Damos was left eating static from the headset. In frustration, he slammed the unit down on the console, repressing an urge to scream. He could almost see Crix beginning to make deductions off of their final payment because of the failed assault, and that thought nearly made him lose his cool completely. "Just you wait...I'll show you how powerful we are..."
A sudden bleeping interrupted his venting, and it only took Damos a few seconds to realize that it was coming from his scouter. Somebody was transmitting a message to him.
Clearing his throat, he clicked the button on the side on his scouter, opening the link.
"This is General Damos."
"My lord," The raspy, whispering voice of Reddyx replied through the scouter's miniature speaker. "The captain's scouter information has been analyzed and sent through to the data-receiver in your quarters. I think you'll find Captain Infernia'a recordings to be...interesting, to say the least."
There was a tone of mirth in Reddyx's voice, which the general found a little peculiar.
"Very well, Reddyx, thank you," he replied. "Report to Shuttle Bay Nine and prepare yourself and Parvyx for transport to the Demonic. I will join you shortly."
"As you command, my lord. Reddyx out."
Damos stood from the communications array and settled down in the plush chair behind his desk. With the activities and decision-making in the early days of the mission, he hadn't been able to take any time to monitor a different kind of trophy collection that he kept aboard the Terror's private research vessel. He was most eager to see how his scientists were progressing in their experiments, especially if he felt the desire to unleash a few of them onto the infestation down on Earth. And considering his angered state at the moment, the desire was almost overwhelming.
I wonder how they would fare against the queen's seven surprises...let's find out just who fouled up Infernia's capture operation...
He activated a small switch underneath his desk, causing a video screen to roll up in front of him. His private files were stored there along with the data that Reddyx had just transmitted to him.
"Access new files," Damos commanded. The voice recognition circuitry on the computer obliged him, displaying a single file, listed as 'Captain Infernia, Battalion Beta Two-Five.'
"Display file number one," he said to the computer as he leaned back in his chair. The file name on the blue screen disappeared, replaced by seven miniaturized photo-stills taken by Infernia's scouter. It appeared that she'd been able to capture each one of the mystery warriors on her scouter. The list went in no particular order, though he recognized the Namek warrior, the one who'd killed Tridyx.
"Enlarge photo number one," Damos said one more time. Perhaps he could learn a bit more about the origins of these outsiders from the stills. The computer readily complied, magnifying the first of the photo- stills.
The next thing he knew, Damos was picking himself up on the floor, his chair lying sideways next to him. He lifted himself up to his desk as he recovered from his surprise, examining the figure in the first photo- still, wondering if he'd been imagining things the first time he'd taken a close look at him.
He wasn't.
* * *
"Incompetent slobs." Vegeta strolled down the empty hallway, the dim lights on the walls guiding him further into the wing. According to the servants of the royalty suites, what he was looking for was only several hundred meters ahead.
He'd been pleased with the accommodations that they received courtesy of the ex-Silver Millennium royalty, though the idea of sharing a room with the Earth woman's boyfriend and the idiotic Krillin had dampened his enthusiasm significantly. He'd frowned heavily as he'd watched them explore the room in their own childish manner, moving around expensive-looking furniture to suit their liking and bounding onto the heavy mattresses like overgrown babies.
"Such luxury isn't even within their mental reach," he mused, still remembering the almost giddy look on Krillin's face as he'd taken in their new surroundings. Rooms like that were fit for someone like Vegeta, one who deserved the privileges that royalty had to offer. When it'd become obvious that the two were turning in for the evening, he'd quickly decided to slip out and attend to his own devices. Listening to the two of them snoring was an even more revolting thought.
Besides, he had other plans to fulfill; in order to further his own causes of getting rid of the alien attackers, he needed some information about their new acquisitions: battle abilities, personality flaws, grace in a pressure situation.he needed tidbits like that to paint a better portrait of how much easier the Sailor Soldiers could make this fight for him. The more one knew about their allies, the easier they were to read and - if need be - manipulate and coerce.
Arriving at the end of the hallway, Vegeta glanced up at a large inscription above a pair of glass double doors.
"Just the place I was looking for," Vegeta smiled to himself as he read the inscribed lettering. "Historical archives."
He pushed open the glass doors and stepped into a quiet, high- ceilinged hall that was stocked wall-to-wall with bookshelves on two extravagantly-designed stories. The second level contained much of the literature, while the ground floor was littered with stainless steel desks that were supporting cube-shaped monitors.
The perfect place to learn about my new 'allies.' He thought to himself as he glanced around at the few faces wandering around the vast room.
He walked over to a large rectangular desk that was protruding out of the wall in the near corner. A young woman behind the counter was diligently working on filing several volumes, not even noticing Vegeta until he raised his voice.
"I'm looking for information regarding the Sailor Soldiers," he gruffly said, causing the librarian to glance up in surprise. She had to be no more than thirty in human years, and her wire-framed glasses gave her a look of intelligence.
"Manuscripts or computer files?" she briskly responded, though she looked a bit taken aback by the request as far as Vegeta could tell. He supposed that not knowing about the Sailor Soldiers in this time period was like not knowing your own name. That was the reputation that heroes got, after all.
"Whatever's quicker," he said, pulling lightly on his black spandex uniform. Not wanting to be attacked by any unwitting soldiers, he'd wisely decided to remove his body armor temporarily to prevent any potential alliance confusions. It was an uncomfortable feeling for him though - without the solid weight of the armor on him, Vegeta felt nearly naked.
"I'll energize the E-module over there for you, sir," After a quick movement of her hands behind the counter, the cubic monitor closest to the desk began to glow a small shade of florescent blue, the internal circuits beginning to hum lowly. "Let me know when you're...finished?"
Vegeta had already begun moving toward the pod, tuning out the driveling woman. He seated himself in front of the glowing cube, the screen displaying a basic search query.
"A keyboard?" Vegeta glanced down at the silvery instrument in front of him, chuckling out loud. It was certainly a wonder as to how these primitive Crystal Tokyo humans had even lasted this long in the invasion with such outdated junk. Perhaps their affinity to magic and spell-casting had given them an aversion to technological thinking.
Cracking his knuckles, he typed in his search information, asking for basic background information on the Sailor Soldiers.
He arched an eyebrow as the machine returned over four hundred articles in general information alone. Glancing over some of the titles - some of which were entries by civilians, which guaranteed almost nothing in terms of credibility - Vegeta entered a more specific request, asking for historical milestones in the existence of the Sailor Soldiers.
"Ah, much better," he grinned with satisfaction as the returns flashed onto the hazy blue screen. The number of entries was still significant - two hundred and sixteen - but many of the file descriptions were labeled as "CTPAA - Crystal Tokyo Palace Archival Accounts," and that was worth more to him. If they were official records, then he had a better chance of avoiding biases than he did if he'd accessed the civilian entries.
"Now let's see what kind of escapades our little girl scouts have managed to live through in the past," he muttered to himself. He had to admit that he was genuinely curious as to how all of them had survived the destruction of their old kingdom on Earth's moon; he also would've loved to know how in the world those blue-blooded weaklings had managed to take control of Earth after the occurrence of whatever cataclysm that Serenity's message had mentioned.
He accessed the first entry, and a wave of text flooded onto the screen. According to the account, the text ran on for nearly thirty pages. Smiling, Vegeta lifted his boots up onto the desk, leaning back in the chair.
"I've got nothing else better to do," he muttered aloud to nobody in particular. "I might as well get acquainted with our friends."
Breathing in deeply, he relaxed his eyes and started to read.
* * *
"Haruka."
A hazy voice rattled her slumber, snapping her out of a blissful sleep. Haruka leaned over toward Michiru, ready to whine about being roused from her enticing dreams. Strangely, she was still asleep, her head leaning against her shoulder with a smile on her face.
"I must be hearing things..." she muttered to herself, kissing Michiru's forehead. "Keep smiling, beloved."
"Haruka!" The voice was clear this time, gruff and deep. She quickly glanced around the bedroom, attempting to identify the voice's source.and saw Piccolo on the other side of the room, leaning casually against the wall next to the open balcony.
"What the...?!?!" She sat up awkwardly, disoriented and groggy but also furious at the warrior's intrusion. "What are you doing in here?! Don't you have any idea where you are??"
Piccolo showed no apparent reaction to her surprise, though as Haruka calmed down slightly, she felt Michiru stir next to her. She instinctively latched hold of Haruka's arm, her dreams still remaining undisturbed.
"She must've been more exhausted than she looked if she slept through that," Piccolo remarked. "But in any event, I'm not here for a pleasure call. The king and I have continued discussing the current combat situation after all of you turned in a little while ago. I wanted to inform you that he wants to speak with all of us tomorrow afternoon about the current situation."
"Speak with all of us...?" Haruka rubbed her tired eyes, trying to remember what happened the night before. After leading Vegeta to the royalty suites and letting the palace servants escort him from there, she'd been contacted by Michiru, who told her and the princess to hurry to the medical wing to speak with the rejuvenated King Endymion. Her relief at his good health was monumental, and upon arriving at the king's treatment room, she'd been even happier to find him back in his own regal attire, no worse for wear than before the palace had been ambushed. ChibiUsa had been more elated than any of them, dashing up to her father and latching onto him as if he were a magnet. And just like that, many of the more immediate concerns were displaced from her thoughts.
However, letting go of those worries had allowed her mind to slow down from all of the events from the previous day, and even Endymion himself had almost immediately remarked at the noticeable fatigue showing on her and the other Sailor Soldiers. Before she could protest the judgment and begin discussing the night's events, the king had ordered all of the Sailor Soldiers - including his daughter - to get at least ten hours of sleep before continuing further with the war planning. She'd been too exhausted to argue with her liege, and the four Sailor Soldiers had all departed from the medical wing for their rooms. Whatever happened from that point onward, Haruka's weary mind was too exhausted to remember.
She lifted up the covers, slipping onto the turquoise carpeting and walking up to the green warrior, attempting to look focused in front of him. "Well, if my liege sent you to inform us at this hour, what is so important that he wishes to discuss?"
"I'd rather not say here," Piccolo stood away from the wall, stepping out onto the balcony. "For your king's sake and for your own sanity's sake, I don't want the details to cause you further unrest. But suffice to say, things will be heading in the right direction when tomorrow afternoon comes."
"Hold on a second!" The cryptic answer wouldn't do for something that Endymion had ordered. Besides, she hadn't been scared out of a peaceful sleep by an alien to listen to riddles. "Why can't you tell me here?"
"The king is busy helping Captain Benson brief the soldiers about the situation and our arrival," he replied as he approached the edge of the marble balcony. "While everyone is asleep, I'm keeping an eye out for the enemy in case they attempt a follow-up attack. Nothing will disturb your sleep tonight, so make sure you enjoy it."
"You're running.patrol.?" Haruka wasn't certain if her fatigue was making her hear things. Was the same stoic killer who'd so mercilessly destroyed Tridyx now pulling an all-nighter for the sake of easier sleep for the rest of them? "I.I mean."
Piccolo chuckled softly, another breeze fluttering the white cape covering his back.
"Surprised? Well don't be," he responded to her. "This planet isn't just yours, Haruka. All of those fighters, despite their quirks, have a stake in this war. They chose to come here and fight. Remember that when we speak to Endymion tomorrow and if you voice any.concerns, about us."
Haruka arched an eyebrow, impressed with the warrior's perceptive abilities. She couldn't help but feel surprised at his awareness, though she tried to hide it in her voice.
"All of you." she said, stepping further out on the balcony. "And what about Vegeta? Is he on the same page and following the same plan as all of you? This isn't even his planet."
Piccolo turned his head slightly, silent for a moment.
"Autumn's beginning to set in," he nonchalantly said as he glanced back at her. "The wind is getting cooler. I would put on something a bit heavier if I were you."
The comment caused her to instinctively cover her body, fearful that her previous exhaustion hadn't allowed her to dress properly for bed. When she realized that nothing was exposed, she glared with irritation at Piccolo. If there was anything that she detested most, it was lechery toward her in any form from a stranger, even if it was casual.
"Why you.how dare you look at me like that.!"
Piccolo lifted himself into the air effortlessly, throwing one more glance back at Haruka.
"Just relax for now. Sleep well," he said. "But sleep light."
He flew off to the west, toward the main gates of the palace. Before Haruka could ask him anything else, Piccolo was out of sight. She sighed inwardly, her anger slipping away as another heavy wind causing her to shiver. She stepped back into the room, stumbling toward the bed. These warriors were proving to be something else, a bit more unpredictable than she had imagined. While Piccolo's instincts and intuition could've been useful in a fight, she certainly wasn't eager for too many early morning wake-up calls during their time in the palace.
Haruka dropped back onto her bed and pulled the covers over her chilly body, her mind deep in thought.
"Friendly with the new neighbors, aren't you?" Michiru's voice caught her off-guard, and Haruka glanced over to see her beloved's eyes open slightly, a mischievous smile across her face. "Though the look on your face when he commented on your evening wear was priceless ."
Insult to injury, just perfect. Michiru would never let her live this down.
"I'll give you something priceless, you little." she half-joked with her as Michiru latched onto her arm. "Just remind me to do one thing before tomorrow is over."
"What's that?" She leaned over to her, flashing Haruka a loving smile.
"Have me talk to maintenance and see what we can do about putting a door in here for that balcony...just in case."
* * *
".and that's why I think that the others may still be alive," Sailor Pluto was saying as Sailor Jupiter continued to pace back and forth along the snake path, growing increasingly frustrated with the sluggish progress of the line. "The energy that I felt before blacking out was unlike anything I'd ever felt."
"That's terrific to know." Sailor Venus absently said; her thoughts were obviously abuzz. Jupiter could tell, just as she was, that all of them were focusing their musings on the Z Warriors, Sailor Pluto's new mystery group of outsiders that the queen had summoned into the war. The past few hours had been tense within the small group as the time soldier had laid out everything that had transpired in the past day, from the probe launching to her visit to Earth's guardian in the Old Era and finally, to her eventual death on the battlefield at the hands of Tridyx.
Jupiter had been relieved to hear of the survival of their remaining teammates, though she hadn't liked everything that she'd heard. The queen had kept all of them out of the loop with the Z Warrior plan, and that thought mixed with her instincts disliking the entire idea of placing their trust solely into a group of unknowns. Jupiter could understand to a point why Sailor Uranus had snapped off at Sailor Pluto.
The time soldier appeared to notice their discomfort in her comrades, her eyes swimming with apology.
"My friends." she continued, picking her words carefully. "I understand any resentment that you must feel towards me right now. I realize that the queen and I should not have excluded your opinions from this plan no matter how much of a life-saver it could've been. Desperation impaired our thoughts at the time.and while that is no excuse."
She struggled for what to say next, and Jupiter spotted Mercury standing up, a more compassionate smile on her face.
"Look, I think I speak for all of us when I say that being kept out of a rescue plan wasn't exactly a confidence booster, but I also think that I speak for all of us when I say that you were only doing what was necessary to protect the Earth. And getting our spirits up on what could've bean a false hope wouldn't have made our deaths any better. I mean, how long have we been teammates, Setsuna? You were only doing what you needed to."
Venus soon responded in like kind, standing and placing a hand on Sailor Pluto's shoulder.
"She's right, don't beat yourself up, Setsuna, it's not like you," she concurred. "It doesn't matter who knew the plan or not. All of us would've died either way, and the important thing is that the others are safe thanks to your warriors if we follow your theory. Perhaps the remainder of our world has a chance of surviving after all."
Sailor Pluto looked slightly relieved, a large weight lifted from her shoulders.
"Thank you." she gratefully said. "Somehow, I knew that you would understand what Sailor Uranus could not."
"I hate to be the skeptic of this group." Jupiter still couldn't quiet her fighting instincts even with Mercury and Venus's acceptance of Sailor Pluto's plan. "But we can't be too certain that the unknown energy source was one of the Z Warriors. It could've been another one of the alien commanders, or something else! There's been too much going on these past few days to be sure; I think we may be getting into wishful thinking, you guys."
"Jupiter." Venus looked slightly crestfallen, causing Jupiter's voice to nearly get defensive.
"Look, all I'm saying is that there's no way we can be positive that they even attempted to locate the palace," she continued. "Sailor Pluto, you could've mistaken their power signatures for another squad of alien soldiers for all you know. I mean, if their techniques are as similar to the aliens' as you say they are--"
"Wait, Sailor Jupiter," Sailor Mars spoke this time, cutting her skepticism off. She'd been relatively silent for several minutes, and from the concentration on her face, Jupiter could tell that she'd been pondering something. "I think Sailor Pluto is right. I remember it now.Jupiter, before you rushed into my room at the palace and helped me out of that mental energy surge, I felt something approaching from a great distance.a power of some kind, not the alien commanders, but something more vague. It was masked by incredible amounts of distortion, like it didn't even exist in our own plane. As if--"
"As if they were in a time-warp," Mercury finished, trying to fit together a feasible chronology in her head. "Sailor Pluto, could it be possible?"
"It would make sense." Sailor Pluto scratched her chin, thinking. "The time crystal I left Kami was an emergency fail-safe in case I couldn't escort them into the future myself. And while the crystals can easily teleport matter through time, they are not quite sophisticated enough to guarantee delivery to a specific location. It is entirely possible that the Z Warriors were teleported to a far-off area of our world and could not reach the palace in time to stop us from being killed by the aliens."
"How about it, Sailor Jupiter, do you doubt my mental powers?" Mars chuckled at her, knowing what the thunder soldier's answer would be. Her fire-readings had not failed them before, and Sailor Jupiter doubted that they would now.
"Sorry for being the doubter." she said sheepishly. "But I'd rather not take chances with this situation.I wanted to make sure that it was at least possible. And I'd feel a bit better knowing that the others are in capable hands."
"You're right, a little reassurance can't hurt," Sailor Venus said. "But do you know any of these warriors, Pluto? How much did the Earth Guardian tell you about them?"
"Not much that can be useful to us," Pluto continued. "Kami only told me briefly about two of the warriors. Before he could progress further, I sensed the powers of the aliens approaching the palace, and I had to rush back there as fast as I could. One of the fighter's is actually a counterpart to Kami, fused with his very soul. Injuries incurred to one half affect the other as well."
Jupiter's eyes widened at that one. "A soul fusion?"
"It's a long and complicated story," Sailor Pluto shook her head. "But needless to say, Kami had told me that Piccolo - that's the name of his other half - is more proficient and effective than any others in the group. His rigorous training methods have molded him into an unnaturally powerful being."
"Sounds like a pretty intense guy," Mars concurred. "Though he doesn't seem very adept at diplomacy from what you say. And you know Sailor Uranus and Sailor Neptune when it comes to strangers like that."
"If the Z Warriors are indeed able to defeat those monsters and save their lives," Pluto mused. "Then I'm certain that at least one of them would be willing to trust them to an extent."
"Nothing personal," Sailor Jupiter said, remembering from her own experience just how paranoid and defensive Sailor Uranus could be. "But knowing Haruka, who knows what kind of sparks could be flying back there between her and those Z Warriors."
"Anyway, Sailor Pluto," Mercury continued, sitting back down on the stone path. The line was still motionless, and the huge numbers of passing souls that were piling up behind them gave every indication that it would be this way for quite some time. "Who was the second fighter that Kami mentioned to you?"
"Ah, yes, Kami seemed more enraptured in him than Piccolo," Pluto nodded. "His name was Son Gohan, a very strong young boy that was well- skilled in the martial arts, trained by Piccolo himself."
"A boy?" Venus's eyes lit up. "Are we talking a teenager, bodybuilder, martial arts champion? Come on, Setsuna, elaborate! We need details here!"
Sailor Pluto laughed lightly. "Relax, Minako, I don't think you'd be interested. He's barely reaching ten years old and I don't think he'd look at you the same way."
The others snickered slightly at Venus's sudden embarrassment.
"Geez, we've just been kicked around, brutally killed, and stranded here in this traffic jam of a judgment line, and you're still thinking about boys, Venus," Jupiter slapped her on the shoulder as the blonde adamantly tried to regain her composure. "Some things never change."
"And what would you have said if I'd been right, huh?" Venus grumbled at Jupiter. "You'd have been begging for information, too!"
"Calm down, Minako," Pluto gently said as she cleared her throat. "But as for Son Gohan, Kami had suspected the traces of great power lying dormant within the young boy, something even he couldn't quite grasp completely. And he had a pure heart, much like the rest of his comrades."
"In other words, someone we want for our team," Jupiter nodded, pleased. She found herself growing more comfortable to the idea of the Z Warriors.
"As for the rest, I just have names: Krillin, Tenshinhan, Chaozu, and Yamcha, all of them well-experienced in the fighting arts that the aliens currently employ."
"Wish that we could find out who our new allies would've been." Mars sighed, resting her arms against her legs. "But there's no going back this time.wherever fate places us is going to be for the rest of eternity."
"The eyes of the spirit realm stretch far, Sailor Mars," Sailor Pluto replied to her. "Once our judgments are given, I'm certain we can find out what's been going on back on Earth if we ask the right people."
"True." Mercury was suddenly distracted by something traveling alongside the road - a white-collar shirted blue figure on a yellow puff of a cloud, a megaphone against his mouth. He had an extremely agitated look on his round face and was yelling something repeatedly at the bustling line, the echo of the megaphone blurring the message just enough so they couldn't hear it completely.
"What's going on?" Sailor Mars glanced over the edge of the road, nearly stabbing herself on the jagged stone scales. The blue man wore thin wire-framed glasses and looked to be about middle-age if measured in human years. He was yelling at several larger figures several feet ahead of them. Jupiter realized that she must've been more out of it than she thought - it looked like a minor scuffle was occurring several yards ahead of them. She sighed inwardly as she spotted a few fists flying between two unknown aliens; a little combat could've done her aching spirit some good at this point. As it was, her patience for the judgment proceedings coupled with her anxiety with the situation back home was beginning to grate on her nerves. It would've been sheer insanity for Sailor Jupiter if her partners hadn't been there to give her some company.
"Break it up! Yeah, the two of you, knock it off!! Anything you say and do here can stand against you in the court of judgment! Now cut out the racket!!"
Two or three gruff, heavy voices shouted back at the small man, harshly berating him in some foreign dialect.
"Hey, you watch your language!! Or else you'll have to answer to Lord Enma!! Now knock it off!" After the mention of the judgment seat's overlord, the voices died off, reduced to low mumbling instead.
"Now's our chance to get some answers." Jupiter pushed past Mars, nearly accidentally shoving the fire soldier off the edge of the road. "Hey! You over there, with the tie!!"
The cloud-rider was caught off-guard, glancing behind him and spotting the group of Sailor Soldiers. "What do you want? I'm quite busy here, as you can see."
"We just want to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind," Jupiter tried her best to sound polite despite her waning patience. "We're kinda new around here, and I was wondering why--"
"Oh, come now, I've got no time to answer those kinds of question," His shoulders sagged, shaking his head. "Everyday, it's the same pitiful questions: 'Oh, why did this have to happen to me of all people,' or 'Can you put in a good word for me at the judgment seat?' Uhh, I'm sick of being bothered by all of these freshly dead!! Now if you'll excuse me, lady, I've got some work to do."
The snooty little man tucked the megaphone under his arm and turned his cloud around, speeding quickly back to wherever he came from. Jupiter stood there, stunned.
"What a jerk!" Mars shouted indignantly as Jupiter balled up her fists. Red haze seeped into her vision as she stared after the little blue white-shirt. "You'd think that he'd have at least a little sympathy for all of--"
"Sympathy?" Crackling electrical energy seeped out of Jupiter's body as she stared hatefully after the obnoxious little man, her patience finally at its limits. She'd seen something in the man's face that had sparked a deep-rooted hatred within her. In the man's snide remarks, she'd seen the sarcastic, merciless snigger of Tridyx, a gesture she'd grown to despise more than anything else that she'd ever seen before. She just had an urge to tear the man to shreds, even though he wasn't anywhere close to the cruelty of the alien soldier. "He's the one who's going to need sympathy after I finish with him!"
"Umm, Jupiter." Venus quickly tried to calm her friend down, stepping in front of her and holding up her hands. "I don't think you want to do this, especially with our fates being--"
"Forget fate!" She shouted, bounding into the air. "I don't think anything I can do now can change a couple hundred years worth of deeds! I want some answers and I'm going to get them!!"
"Jupiter, no, wait, don't!!!" Venus's pleas came too late, and Jupiter sped through the air along the side of the road. She spotted the megaphone-totting squirt several meters away. She kicked in some extra speed, soaring directly up to the cloud and snagging the blue man by the collar of his pressed shirt. He never saw it coming.
"H-hey.!!" He strained his voice as Jupiter tightened her hold around him. "What do you think you're doing?!"
"Shut up!!" Sailor Jupiter was through playing nice to him. "I've been waiting back in that overcrowded line for HOURS now!! You're going to tell me why in the hell I have to put up with waiting so long to get one measly judgment after I've just been blown to pieces by some tree trunk of an alien bastard!"
The tirade and the voltage coursing over Jupiter's body seemed to intimidate the tiny blue man just enough. His angered gaze had melted into anxious fear, still struggling to breathe under Sailor Jupiter's tight grip. As she waited for a response, Jupiter saw that she was attracting the attention from some of the more brutish aliens lining the roadway; they screamed out in their own languages, some of them laughing hysterically at the sight. They seemed more than eager to watch the scrawny official get his tail whipped.
"Err, uhh, umm.you see." he nervously whimpered. "It's like this, ah."
"Well?!" Jupiter squeezed harder, choking the man even more.
"We're, ah, slightly understaffed today," he finally croaked out. "Some of our processors called out sick.please don't hurt me, I'm just doing my job!!"
Sailor Jupiter felt movement on her left; she glanced over and spotted Sailor Venus and Sailor Pluto hovering next to her.
"That's enough, Makoto; you're going to get us into trouble!" Venus placed a hand on Jupiter's shoulder. "Unless you want to get sent to the lower levels of hell."
"Venus is right, Jupiter, you've got to let this go," Pluto replied.
"My.sentiments.exactly." The strangling little man squeaked out.
"This does us no good anymore, Makoto," Venus said with a pleading tone. "Let it go.it's over."
Sailor Jupiter didn't respond at first, though as some of the adrenaline and rage wore away, she knew that Sailor Venus and Sailor Pluto had read into her anger, knew how badly she'd wanted to get her revenge on Tridyx and the alien soldiers that had laughed and spat at them as they died.
Reluctantly, she released her grip, pushing the little officer back on his cloud. He dropped to one knee, gasping for air and loosening his shirt collar. Jupiter floated closer to him, deliberately trying to intimidate him with her size.
"Let that be a lesson to you," she calmly said as she glowered at him. "And if Lord Enma catches wind of this little incident, I'll personally track you down , take that clunky megaphone out of your grubby little hands, and--"
"Jupiter!!" Sailor Pluto shouted, causing Jupiter to instinctively back down. She smirked at the shuddering figure before her before floating back with her comrades to their place in line.
"You certainly have a way with people," Venus nudged her on the way back, smiling at her.
Suddenly, a small stone came shooting past her head, missing her forehead by centimeters. Glancing to the right onto the road, Sailor Jupiter spotted a large group of alien juveniles jeering at them from their seated positions on the path. Disturbingly, she also spotted a few humans among the aliens, all of them eyeing the three of them up in an unwelcome way.
"Hey, nice moves, back there, sweetheart!" One of the humans - a dirty-looking teen in dark, tattered clothes - jeered up at her. "Are your friends that tough, too? All of us love our women like that!"
The aliens and other humans nodded and joked in similar fashion, prompting Jupiter's anger to return. She glanced over at Sailor Venus, saw the look of disgust on her face, and both of them looked back toward Sailor Pluto.
"May we, Sailor Pluto?" she asked politely, releasing what Setsuna's answer would be. As tranquil as she was, she despised uninvited comments as much as any of them did. "Please?"
"Just one tiny little show of force, pleeease?" Venus's eyes lit up.
Sailor Pluto chuckled softly. "I suppose children will always be children, but very well. Just this once."
As Sailor Pluto floated back to where Mercury and Mars were still waiting, the other two Sailor Soldiers concentrated their power, Sailor Jupiter more grateful than ever that death hadn't stolen their abilities from them. The group suddenly looked anxious as Jupiter and Venus charged up as much energy as they could muster.
"Hear that, Sailor Jupiter?" Venus smirked at her teammate. "Those guys are looking for some action, don't you feel honored?"
"So, you guys want some action?" Jupiter coyly laughed. "Then allow us to accommodate you! Jupiter Supreme Thunder!!"
A large wave of thunderbolts soared from Jupiter's body, thoroughly electrocuting the small group on the snaking road. The massive amounts of electricity caused Jupiter to cover her eyes slightly. She hadn't expected the attack to light up the road that much.
"Venus Crescent Beam Shower!!" Venus shouted as gold energy formed at her fingertips. A second later, a hail of golden beams sailed into the flowing current of electricity, causing a spectacular explosion that enveloped the entire road around them.
As the billowing smoke cleared, Jupiter and Venus found themselves glancing down at about fifty yards worth of dead souls covered with burn wounds and smoke pouring off of their clothes. All of them focused their attention on the two attackers in the sky, rage seeping steadily into their eyes as they began hurling loose stones and other objects at the Sailor Soldiers.
"Heh, I guess we overdid it a tad," Venus ducked as another rock sailed past her. "Sorry, everyone, you understand, right?"
"Let's get outta here!" Jupiter yelled as she yanked on Venus's arm speeding back toward the others. It wasn't like the injuries would last - everyone in the blast radius was already dead, after all - but given their miniature riot, Jupiter imagined that it still hurt a whole lot.
As they dropped down next to the other Sailor Soldiers, Jupiter spotted a whole squad of cloud-riders - these particular ones dressed in full body armor and looking significantly larger and tougher than the snooty little pencil-pusher - flying toward them, all of the riders looking extremely annoyed at the trouble that Jupiter and Venus had caused. It looked like the official hadn't taken Jupiter's warning seriously.
Pluto shook her head as the riders approached. "Looks like we're going to be escorted the rest of the way."
Jupiter panted and wheezed from her quick flight away from the riot, looking up at Sailor Mercury and Sailor Mars, both of whom were shaking their heads, incredulous at the commotion that Jupiter especially had caused.
"Hey, look on the bright side," she gasped. "At least we got back at those guys, right? Right??"
Pluto crossed her arms, slightly exasperated, but slightly amused at the same time.
"I just can't take you children out anywhere, can I?"
* * *
Gohan stumbled down the hallway, still trying to wake himself up. Gold rays from the late morning sun were beaming through the glass windows lining the palace hall. The others were still sound asleep in the plush royalty suites, and none of them were looking to get up any time soon. All of them - barring Vegeta - had been blown away after being shown into the extravagant rooms; even Gohan had been amazed that any one room could look so ornate and perfect. Krillin had remarked that none of them had done enough to warrant accommodations fit for a king, but Yamcha had quickly reminded all of them that they had the chance to enjoy themselves for a bit and that they should readily take it.
Although for the cushy beds and the mirrored ceilings, you'd think that they'd have a bathroom nearby.
He'd been wandering the halls of the palace for over fifteen minutes looking for a restroom, still uneasy about venturing into unknown wings despite the directions he was given earlier by a passing soldier.
Now was it two lefts and straight ahead.or two rights and to the left.
He was still too sleepy to remember what the trooper had told him, but his bladder didn't seem to care. He sped up his steps down the elaborate hall, looking for any sign of a bathroom.
He passed three more doors, finally ending at a larger one at the hall's end, covered with bronze ornamental designs.
Two lefts.and straight to the end! I remember now! He mind clicked, positive at the soldier's words. He reached for the knob, relief sweeping over him.
* * *
Morning, sleepyhead! We've gone out for something to eat and figured we'd let you catch up on your sleep. We received word early this morning that His Majesty wishes to speak with our forces late this afternoon, around two. Be sure to get ready as soon as you get up. We'll be back soon!
Hotaru set the note down on the dresser, rubbing her eyes and craning her stiff neck muscles. She looked over toward the ornate clock on the wall. She was surprised that she'd slept so late - it was already ten o'clock.
"Must've been more out of it than I thought." she mumbled to herself. It didn't matter though; she still had plenty of time to get ready for a meeting with the king despite how long she usually took getting herself prim enough to appear before him. Endymion had insisted to keep the meetings between him and the Sailor Soldiers more toward the informal side, but Hotaru had felt uncomfortable the last time she'd followed his advice. She'd felt too.out of place, too much like a little girl among the older soldiers. Fortunately, the presence of ChibiUsa and her surrogate parents made things a bit less overwhelming for her. They went out of their way to make her feel included, at home.
She smiled to herself, thinking about how ChibiUsa would be behaving herself in front of the new guests. "As long as her head doesn't go lurching into the clouds when Gohan walks in."
As she headed back to her own smaller room, the knob suddenly rattled, the large bronze door swinging open. What timing, Haruka-papa and Michiru-mama were back already.
"Ah, finally." Hotaru froze as a smaller figure hurried inside, turning to close the heavy door behind him. From the purple karate gi and scruffy, shoulder-length hair, it had to be-
"Son Gohan?!?!" she instinctively cried out as the boy turned. He didn't even realize that she was in the room until he'd turned to face her. "What are you doing here?!"
Hotaru instinctively covered herself despite the long nightgown and terrycloth robe that she was wearing. Gohan had frozen where he was standing, his face turning red. He looked dumbfounded, shocked, or both; Hotaru couldn't tell which.
A few moments later, he gasped and tore his face away from the sight in front of him, realizing what he was doing.
"H-hotaru!! I'm sorry, I must've made a wrong turn somewhere!! You, you see I was looking for the bathroom, err, I mean the men's bathroom of course, and I, uhh, umm.oh, no..."
She was still tense, but as the shock wore off, she lowered her arms and walked up to the shuddering boy, curiosity and amusement overcoming her. Was the same warrior who'd so defiantly attacked the alien commanders now cowering before her like a baby puppy all because he'd walked into the wrong room?
"Gohan, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you so badly," she giggled, which drew his face back around. "Ha ha, you look like you've seen a ghost!"
That seemed to put Gohan at ease, and he relaxed his stance, his breathing slowing down.
"Ahh.thank, thank you, Hotaru," he sheepishly said. "It's just that.whenever me or my dad accidentally walked in on my mom when she was changing, the whole forest would wake up."
Hotaru laughed a little bit more, leading Gohan away from the door.
"Sounds a bit like Haruka-papa sometimes," she said to him. "By the way, you guys were up later than we were last night. Do you know anything about what the king wants to speak about today?"
"Not a thing," Gohan shook his head as he stepped into the living area. "After ChibiUsa led us to the royalty suites and we got settled in, most of us fell asleep in a hurry, except for Mister Piccolo. I don't think any of us have ever enjoyed that good of a night's sleep."
"It was the least we could do." Hotaru was absently brushing some strands of hair out of her face. "Sorry, I don't exactly look decent right now. I just rolled out of bed about ten minutes ago."
"What do you mean?" Gohan asked, looking a bit surprised. "I thought that girls looked the prettiest whenever they were in bed."
Hotaru found herself a bit taken back by that one.
"What.what do you mean?" she stammered , attempting not to look too embarrassed.
"Well, I heard it from Krillin and Kamesennin," Gohan explained. "Sometimes, they read these special magazines about girls. And whenever I ask about them, they tell me--"
Hotaru quickly held up her hand, content with forming her own conclusions about the rest of the explanation. She made sure to keep that in mind whenever Krillin was around Haruka-papa and Michiru-mama.
"I think you've been a little misled, Gohan," Hotaru giggled a bit, amused by the confusion playing across the young boy's face. "I just hope that they didn't show you any of those 'special magazines.'"
Before Gohan could respond, she heard the door open and close again. She heard soft footsteps across the carpeting; this time - at least she hoped anyway - there was no mistake: her parents had returned.
Seconds later, Michiru stepped around the corner, donning a casual dress. She flashed them a surprised smile as she spotted the young Z Warrior in their living room. She didn't speak at first, and when she did, she directed it toward Hotaru.
"And to think that I started young with relationships." she said. "How did you manage to lure such a handsome boy in here, Hotaru?"
Her mirthful tone was obvious, and even Hotaru couldn't help but smile a bit at Gohan's blunder. She glanced back at him, and she saw that he was back in the same position as before - frantic and attempting to make up any kind of passable excuse that he could.
"I-I-I'm sorry, I was trying to find the bathroom and I kinda got lost." he trailed off, smiling nervously. "I didn't mean anything, honest."
Michiru laughed aloud, shaking her head.
"Relax, Gohan, no harm done," She motioned toward a plain-looking white door on the other side of the bed, "Help yourself."
Gohan bowed gratefully. "Right through there? Thanks, Sailor Neptune, I really appreciate it."
He hurried past Hotaru and stepped through the door, closing and locking it behind him.
Hotaru glanced back at Michiru with a bit of anxiety in her eyes. "Are you sure about that, Michiru-mama? It probably isn't what he's accustomed to."
"I wouldn't worry, Hotaru," she strolled into the living area, rubbing her daughter's hair as she stepped past her. "Even at his age, I think that he'd be too slow to grasp the idea."
She smiled back at her, deciding to change the subject.
"What does His Majesty wish to discuss with us?"
Michiru shook her head, removing a pair of her earrings.
"I'm not entirely sure," she replied, laying the earrings on the dresser. "All I know is that Haruka and I had a visit from Piccolo late last night. He said that 'things were going to be heading in the right direction' when the meeting time came around, or something like that."
"Right direction?" Hotaru wondered. "What's worth disturbing your sleep over after such a grueling battle?"
"I don't know the details, though it doesn't sound like an exaggeration," she said. "I suppose we'll know soon enough. But for now, would you like to go and get ready? We were going to get something to eat as soon as Haruka comes back."
Hotaru nodded enthusiastically. She hadn't been able to catch a decent meal since the day before the palace ambush, and a little breakfast would be like a slice of heaven after yesterday.
Before she could round the corner for her room, Michiru called back to her once more.
"He is quite a gentleman, you know."
She glanced back her surrogate mother with surprise, and she saw a slightly mischievous, slightly suggestive smile on her face. "And he's very strong and quite handsome for his age. He's got to be close to your age. Well, he's close if you measure in their years."
Hotaru felt a little embarrassed at the idea. After all, she hadn't been interested in Son Gohan in that way despite his off-hand, unintentional comment about her.
"I don't think so, Michiru-mama," she replied. "Besides, even if I tried, the princess has her eyes on him."
"That doesn't surprise me too much," Michiru replied. "After all, he did save her life and the rest of ours. But you know what they say, don't you, Hotaru?"
"What's that?"
"All's fair in love and war."
The toilet flushed from inside the bathroom, and Hotaru turned and walked back toward her room to get herself ready for the day. She couldn't believe that Michiru had even hinted at the idea of her and Son Gohan. They'd only met less than twenty-four hours ago, and despite his heroic nature, she wasn't about to go falling all over him like ChibiUsa. It just wasn't her.
* * *
When she spotted Son Gohan exiting from her room, Haruka didn't know what to say or even think. She'd just finished relieving a few of the night watchers and was ready to catch up with Michiru and Hotaru back in their room, but the last thing she expected was to see the Saiyan boy strolling out of the room with a large smile on his face.
"Son Gohan.?!" Even as he passed by her, Haruka was certain that he would've just kept right on walking if she hadn't said something. Where was that boy's head at? What had he been doing in there?!
"Oh, good morning, Sailor Uranus!" he stopped and turned to face her. "How are you doing?"
For a moment, she just stood there and stared at him, her body not certain how to react. Her mind kept telling her that the only other one in the room before Michiru had gone back had been Hotaru, and that began to spark maddening images.
"Gohan.why were you just in our quarters? I thought all the warriors in your group were taken to the other side of the palace."
"Oh, that?" He answered. "Oh, I'm sorry; I just had to use your bathroom, though I accidentally walked in on Hotaru."
She felt her eyes lighting up with anger, though she tried to keep her voice down. She was barely successful in that regard.
"You.what.??"
The boy suddenly gasped, as if realizing the error he'd made.
"Oh, wait!! No, no, I meant that I walked into the room while she was inside! It was an accident, I promise! I didn't see anything under her robe, I promise!"
Haruka stood there motionless in front of the panicking boy, fighting the impulse to release her rage onto him. However, as she glanced down at his frightened, embarrassed demeanor, she calmed herself, albeit with some difficulty. It was just too innocent, too genuinely.funny, for lack of a better term, to be a lie. She shook her head at Gohan's naiveté.
"You're certainly something else, Gohan. Now run along, we'll see you at the meeting later," She said in a light voice, putting the boy's attitude at ease. He smiled back, jogging down the hall and waving back to her as he hurried out of sight.
She laughed to herself, walking toward their room. Michiru had to have seen him inside once she got back, and Haruka was more curious than ever to find out what had gone on that had caused the child to blunder so badly.
* * *
The throne room of the palace was a marvelous sight. Even Piccolo couldn't deny that. Pictograms engraved into the crystalline floor dominated the center circle of the chamber while a huge glass skylight allowed the high afternoon sun to reach into the entire room. To the right and left sides of the throne room were high walls that extended upward to a stack of bleacher-style platforms. Desks were built into the platforms, each of them the size of an average dining table. Though he wasn't familiar with architecture, Piccolo guessed that hundreds of diplomats, politicians, and advisors gathered here to discuss the running of Crystal Tokyo with the royalty. The seats were empty now, most of them being restored by bustling architects from the aftermath of the palace attack. Either the seat-holders had been killed during the early stages of the war, or the council had been called off during the crisis. Either way, Piccolo felt a bit more at ease without several hundred pairs of eyes staring at him from the bleachers.
The set of thrones at the front of the chamber was unexceptional - ornate, brightly colored tapestry depicting some kinds of stately symbols was vertically hanging at least five yards above the two larger thrones, and the regal seats themselves had to have been delicately carved out of large blocks of crystal. The various angles chiseled out of the sides of the dignified thrones were too precise to have been done with a machine. It made the structures appear as the focal point of the room, which made enough sense. If a monarch wanted to command respect and authority from his or her politicians, then such attention was a necessity.
The throne on the right was currently unoccupied, and it was adorned with a thin gold and jeweled scepter as well as several smaller tapestries. Piccolo assumed that it was the missing Serenity's throne, and as he saw the regal King Endymion take his place in the left throne, Piccolo noticed a twinge of anxiety and pain within Endymion's life force as he stole a glance at his wife's seat. Obviously, he was more concerned than anybody over Serenity's current fate.
The other Sailor Soldiers - without their battle uniforms - were lined around him, Haruka and Michiru on his left side, the princess and Hotaru on his right. All of them were casually dressed as per the king's orders, though Piccolo was curious as to how they managed to go from such casual everyday clothes to their high-profile, nearly glamorous-looking battle outfits without consuming massive amounts of time.
"Thank you for coming, all of you," The king began, speaking in a more dignified tone than when he and Piccolo had spoken the night before.
During their late-night conversation, Endymion had informed Piccolo about most of what had happened before Sailor Pluto had summoned them into the war. While he hadn't been able to brief the others about the current situation, Piccolo knew that even with their combined strength, things wouldn't be easy. As it turned out, most of the capital city had either been captured or destroyed, and the majority of the experienced Crystal Tokyo soldiers had been wiped out. The few that remained were attempting to vigilantly defend the remnants of Crystal Tokyo from the onslaught of enemy soldiers. Supplies were becoming scarce, morale for the surviving civilians was in the pits, and contact with the small settlements outside the city had been cut off. Endymion had assumed the worst for the less protected people beyond the Outer Sanctum of the city, especially if the aliens had struck as hard there as they had on Crystal Tokyo city itself.
As for the opposition, preliminary scouting reports had placed the current number from between five thousand to fifteen thousand. They were highly-trained in martial arts and energy manipulation, but Endymion knew nothing of their origin or why they would want to destroy Crystal Tokyo. He'd been slightly disappointed when the king had told him - he was hoping that Endymion's testimony could've provided him with a more solid link to his theory about the aliens being linked to Frieza's army of the past.
But the surprise factor is in our favor at this point, at least. They won't be expecting warriors of our caliber to emerge from thin air. And with a little bit of luck on our side, this war may yet be won.
Piccolo glanced around at his cohorts, all of them standing respectfully before the king in a long row. It had been difficult to rouse some of them - Krillin and Yamcha in particular - from their comfortable slumber only a few hours before, but they'd managed to pull themselves off of their cushy beds and clean themselves up enough to look presentable before the royalty. Much of that had been at the Namek's insistence; if they wanted to earn respect among their partners as quickly as possible, looking as trim as possible was certainly a good step. The only surprise he saw was that Vegeta had joined their group to participate in the meeting. While Piccolo was sure that the Saiyan prince had his own motives in mind for attending the session, he kept quiet about it - there was no sense in starting any in-fighting.
"Before we begin, I think we should have a round of introductions," the king suggested.
The Z Warriors complied, with Krillin and Yamcha starting off. They introduced themselves as two martial artists, Krillin as the disciple of the Kamesennin style and Yamcha as a warrior trained in the wild and refined in the more sophisticated styles recently. Tenshinhan and Chaozu introduced themselves similarly, though Tenshinhan's attitude was more serious and business-like than Chaozu's friendly greeting. Gohan introduced himself as Piccolo's student in survival and martial arts training, and Piccolo had in turn proclaimed himself as Gohan's teacher and survivalist warrior from the planet Namek. Endymion seemed pleased with them, nodding in approval as he gazed at the line.
"And you?" He glanced over toward Vegeta, who was standing with his arms folded at the line's left end. Piccolo noticed Haruka and Michiru visibly tensing as the attention was shifted toward Vegeta.
"Me?" Vegeta replied nonchalantly. "Oh, I'm nobody of importance. I'm just another fighter who's looking to destroy the creatures attacking this planet. You may call me Vegeta."
Endymion hesitated for a moment, gazing with narrowed eyes at the arrogant prince.
"Odd." he said lowly, rising from his throne. "I don't exactly recall your face or your name in the files we researched."
"That's because the Saiyan wasn't in the files, my liege," Haruka spoke up, staring with disdain at Vegeta. "He's an 'uninvited guest,' if you will. His stake in this war isn't the same as the others; he fights for his own purposes."
Endymion reached onto his belt and drew a long sharp blade from a scabbard.
"A full-blooded Saiyan, here?" He angrily said as Piccolo suddenly felt the friendly meeting coming apart. He suddenly wished he'd informed the king of Vegeta's background during their discussion last night. He inwardly cursed himself for letting his mind slip on it. "What purpose do you have in coming to my realm?"
Vegeta didn't seem the least bit worried.
"Calm down, Endymion, and put your weapon away," he said, stepping forward to the steps leading up to the throne. "It's true; I'm one of the last of the full-blooded Saiyans in existence in my era. And you're correct, I have no reason to protect or defend this pathetic planet like my associates have chosen to do."
"Then give me a good enough reason to allow you to remain within my palace walls," Endymion didn't back down, much to Piccolo's surprise. As powerful as Vegeta was, Piccolo respected the king for having the courage to stand up to the Saiyan's bravado. "Why should I trust a member of such a treacherous race like Saiyans?"
"For one thing, you shouldn't," Haruka grumbled, causing Vegeta to glance over at her in exasperation. "Never in our old history were Saiyans ever trust-worthy."
"Don't tempt me," Vegeta growled back, suddenly smirking a bit. "Besides, I did a little researching of my own last night, and your record surprised me most of all, Sailor Uranus. As treacherous and uncouth as you say that Saiyans are, we at least never tried to murder our children if they were useful to us."
"Vegeta!!" Piccolo yelled at him before the confrontation could become any more heated. The Saiyan held up a hand toward his Namek associate, calm and collected as ever. Haruka, on the other hand, was biting her tongue and bottling some of her rage toward the Saiyan. The remark seemed to have spurred the entire contingent of Sailor Soldiers, all of them glaring with even more hatred at Vegeta, although Hotaru was looking a bit more confused than the rest. Piccolo started wondering what kind of past deed Vegeta had found out about.
"As I was saying, Endymion," he continued, pacing slowly around in front of the throne. "I have my own reasons for wanting these aliens dead. While those reasons do not coincide with yours, our ends are the same. And despite your faith in the six fighters before you, none of them have nearly enough battle experience or power that I possess. I've seen more war and battling in my lifetime than your entire army put together."
Endymion withdrew his sword.
"Maybe," he said. "But how do I know that you won't betray us? You and your people destroyed entire worlds for the sake of money and enjoyment. Is this task any different for you?"
"Ha ha, you know your history, Endymion," Vegeta said, a little impressed at Endymion's resolve not to back down. "But, do not mistake my former trade with this business. My involvement with the planet trade wasn't only for the money or the satisfaction of vaporizing lesser life forms. It was part of a grander scheme: for me to get close enough to the tyrant who destroyed my race and to wait for the right opportunity to eliminate him. This war is no different. Our victory is part of a grander design for me, and unless I cooperate with you and earn the trust of your services, my own goals can never be realized."
"Our services?" Endymion asked. "What are you getting at?"
"Why would I want to destroy that which is useful to me, Endymion?" Vegeta went on. "So set your mind at ease. I have no desire to kill you, your Sailor Soldiers, or anybody in this little kingdom. My goal is to vanquish this infestation of aliens from Earth, and like it or not, you'll need my help."
Piccolo glanced over at the king, and he saw the indecision in Endymion's eyes. The king was certainly not eager to entrust the safety of his kingdom on the shoulders of someone like Vegeta, but the Saiyan prince had made some valid points in his argument, some that Piccolo had to agree with. Vegeta possessed more knowledge of combat than even the Namek warrior did, and that knowledge would be vital against an army of well-trained enemies.
The king finally looked up, facing the smug prince's face.
"Very well, Vegeta," he nodded. "We welcome your 'services.' But be forewarned - at the first sign of trouble from you, you'll regret ever stepping foot into this realm."
"Your point is noted," Vegeta mock bowed at the king and the Sailor Soldiers, returning to the others. As he got a good distance away from the royalty, Piccolo heard him mutter one more phrase under his breath. "And ignored."
"Moving along," the king addressed the assembly. "First of all, I wish to thank each of you for your interference in the previous night's battle that saved the lives of four of our warriors, including my daughter's. All of us owe you our gratification."
Piccolo noticed the princess staring at Gohan after the statement, her eyes possessing a strange sparkle as she continued to gaze at the unknowing boy. Ignoring it for the moment, he stepped forward to address to the king.
"It was the least we could do for our new allies, Endymion," he said. "Though with the enemy encroaching on the last lines of defense, I suggest we talk about how exactly we're going to go about a counter-attack against these aliens."
"Of course," he said, sitting down in his throne. "As I was speaking to Piccolo last night, I informed him that upon your arrival, our original plan had been for both Z Warriors and Sailor Soldiers to join together as a counter-attack force against the alien hordes. From the research done on your various battles, the seven of you are accustomed to combating overwhelming odds."
You have a way with understatements... Piccolo thought before continuing. "And what have you gathered about the enemy soldiers? Any weaknesses?"
"Haruka, I think you should field this," Endymion nodded toward her, inviting her to explain.
"Though the fighting has not lasted for an extended period," she began. "We do have a general idea of what these soldiers are like. They're not particularly strong on their own or even in pairs and triplets, but when dozens of them are attacking at one, they become lethal. Also, as you mentioned before, Piccolo, the soldiers in our army are not accustomed to fighting in this type of warfare. Before now, our battles had been more conventional."
"I doubt that even our combined power could wipe out all of these guys," Tenshinhan broke in, stepping forward to address the group with Piccolo. "Whatever kind of operation they're running, it seems like they have an overabundance of resources to back up their efforts. Even with superior numbers, it would take a good deal of strategy to coordinate an invasion of this size."
"We haven't been able to locate any kind of central command headquarters anywhere within the city," Michiru continued, brushing some hair out of her eyes. "We've also been able to detect large spaceships arriving and departing within the Outer Sanctum."
"Probably dropping off soldiers and equipment," Krillin mused. "I'd be willing to bet that they've got some kind of mother ship in space somewhere, and they're getting their orders from there."
"But what kind of spaceship can house that many soldiers?" Chaozu wondered.
"We can't be certain," Haruka continued. "But I'd be willing to assume that they've got a miniature fleet out there. It certainly wouldn't surprise me considering what I've seen in the past few days."
Piccolo smirked within himself. He could sense a twinge of jealousy within the Sailor Soldier, probably stemming from how he'd so quickly dismantled Tridyx and vaporized his fallen carcass while they'd been nearly powerless to stop him. The envy was somewhat unfounded - he was still certain that given time to fully rejuvenate and a unified attack plan, the giant would've eventually fallen to the Sailor Soldiers.
"If they do," Piccolo said. "Then perhaps there is a weakness in their armor. The enemies we've faced are nothing but mindless sentinels - the trio that you faced last night was probably close to the top of the chain of command if they were sent to attack the palace alone."
"I think I know what you're suggesting," Endymion nodded. "But we're rather powerless to attack whatever command ships that they have in outer space. We've only begun to experiment on space exploratory craft, and the few prototypes we did have had to be scrapped for their materials. We don't have the technology or the knowledge necessary to construct a spaceship, much less one that's combat capable."
"There could be another way," Tenshinhan suggested, his brow furrowed in thought. "What about the troop carrying ships?"
"Now there's an idea." Krillin nodded in agreement. "If we commandeer one of those, it'll take us straight back to their command ship!"
"It would be difficult.nearly impossible, perhaps," Piccolo mused. He didn't very much care for the idea, since trekking all the way to the outer edges of the city would mean going through a whole army of soldiers standing in their way, and even if they got their hands on a ship, they'd have to deal with piloting it back to the fleet and sneaking aboard a populated enemy vessel undetected.
"The problem is our numbers, though," Vegeta seemed to confirm his worries. "There are still hundreds, maybe thousands of them out there, and there are only a dozen of us. Besides, if we left this place unguarded, it would be a welcome invitation for the hordes to swarm our own command post."
"It's still a viable alternative." Endymion had been mulling it over carefully from his throne, weighing in the possibilities even as the group presented suggestions. "However, manpower and our defenses are the largest, most immediate problems at the moment. As I mentioned before, the Sailor Soldiers killed in last night's battle were key to our morale and a strong source of our fighting strength. Without them, our task becomes even more difficult."
"Umm.excuse me," Gohan's voice chimed in, surprising Piccolo somewhat. As brave as he could be, Piccolo hadn't expected Gohan - someone with little combat strategy experience - to speak at all during the meeting. "But I think I might have a way to solve that problem."
The five near the throne looked confused, and for good reason.
"What are you talking about, Gohan?" Piccolo asked.
"I thought of it last night after the battle, and I wasn't sure it would work until recently," Gohan continued. "But perhaps we can restore the dead Sailor Soldiers to life."
Then, the realization hit Piccolo as to what the boy was getting at. He couldn't believe himself - why hadn't he thought of that?
"Gohan, are you talking about the Dragonballs?"
"That's right," he nodded. "It's been a long time since we used them to wish back everybody on Namek; they've been active for a while."
He glanced up at the attentive Sailor Soldiers.
"And since you guys said that the time portal leading back to our world wouldn't totally disappear without Sailor Pluto's command, I think it could work!"
"Hold on a second, Gohan," Krillin held up his hands. "I don't think that our allies here even know what in the world you're talking about."
"Please go on." ChibiUsa looked incredibly hopeful, as did the king. "What are these Dragonballs?"
"Long ago in our time period," Piccolo began. "The Guardian of the Earth created seven mystical orbs called Dragonballs. If all of them were gathered into one place, you could summon Shen-ron, the Eternal Dragon, and he would grant a single wish to the collector."
"Any wish at all?" Endymion arched an eyebrow, somewhat disbelieving.
"Yup," Gohan replied. "We've used them a few times ourselves, mostly for wishing our friends back to life."
"Incredible." Michiru looked astonished. "Could they restore our friends even though they're so far into the future from your era?"
"I wouldn't see why not," Yamcha answered. "And it could give us the extra support we need to help go through with this war."
"Hold on a second," Vegeta broke in abruptly. "I hate to be the bearer of realism, but have you forgotten? The five who were killed last night were done in by one of their low-ranking commanders, still only a grunt by the standards of the other two. If they're as gung-ho as I would suspect to get back into battle, it would be a wasted wish."
"Are you accusing our friends of being weak, Saiyan?" Haruka glared back at him.
"I'm merely speaking the truth," Vegeta said nonchalantly. "Admit it; as much support as they could serve against the dogs outside, they wouldn't last against someone like Tridyx or the other two commanders."
Piccolo thought it over for a moment, admitting that Vegeta had made a good point. It wouldn't be worth sacrificing someone to send back to collect the Dragonballs if the resurrected would only come back to be killed again. And despite his confidence in the Sailor Soldiers' abilities as a charged, cohesive unit.
"Wait a minute." he suddenly said, a notion occurring to him. "Krillin, how long did it take for all of you to gather the Dragonballs when you wished Goku back?"
"This is a waste of time." Vegeta grumbled.
"A few months, but that was only because they were pretty spread out," Krillin answered. "It all depends where they've ended up since we used them; it depends on how accessible they are, too."
"Good, that should be enough time," Piccolo nodded. "I think I may be able to pull some strings in my own era. There's a martial arts master that exists in the after world. He's a bit of an oddball, but he's knowledgeable and powerful in his own way. If we send someone back to search for the Dragonballs, they could train under him in meantime. Even a short period with him can increase their powers substantially."
"Are you talking about Lord Kaio?" Tenshinhan asked. "But how do we know that he even still exists in the after world of this era?"
"Believe me, Tenshinhan," Piccolo shook his head. "Someone as eccentric as Lord Kaio is the type of person that never goes away."
There were a few chuckles at that remark. Piccolo turned back to face the king.
"Well, what do you think, Endymion?"
"It would help us out in many ways," he agreed. "It would give us something to do while we formulate a better counter-attack plan. Not to mention that it would be magnificent if we could get our friends back."
"But who would go back to the Old Era?" Hotaru asked. "Any of our powers would be needed to activate the portal, but we would need one of the Z Warriors to help in locating these Dragonballs."
"That won't be a problem," Piccolo answered nearly right away. Looking over the members of the group, there really was no second guessing who would be going back from their side. "I have better knowledge of Earth's terrain than any of the others here, and I'm one of the fastest ones out of our group. You'll need me if you want to recover the Dragonballs quickly enough."
"But Piccolo, why you?" Krillin asked. "I mean, not to give you a big head or anything, but you are one of the strongest ones here, and--"
"Enough, Krillin, it must be me," Piccolo insisted. "Besides, if we want those Sailor Soldiers to be of better use to us, I'm the closest one that can convince Kami to grant us some favors with the after world."
"Point taken." Krillin responded. None of the others seemed to have any arguments - they either all agreed with him or were simply unwilling to undertake the collection task.
"Very well," Endymion glanced over at the Sailor Soldiers. "The power from the Sailor Soldiers can reactivate the time portal in the area where it dropped all of you off. Take at least one of them with you, Piccolo."
"They can decide for themselves, I have no preferences."
"Your Majesty, I volunteer myself," To Piccolo's expectation, Haruka was the first to speak.
The king gazed thoughtfully at Haruka, and he finally shook his head.
"No, I can't send you, Haruka, I'm sorry," he said to her. "You're one of the few higher commanders of the battalions that we have left. I need you to remain here to help oversee the soldiers and help stabilize the waning morale. Please understand."
Endymion obviously expected the decline to be a fierce blow to Haruka, and the visible amount of frustration and disbelief on her face proved him to be correct.
"But Your Majesty!" she protested vigorously. "If I combine my power with Piccolo, we're certain to find those artifacts in no time! Not to mention that--"
She suddenly stopped herself, composing her demeanor as if she had nearly let something slip out in the midst of her frustrations. Piccolo smirked inwardly, realizing her true intentions - she wanted to come along as a babysitter to watch over his activities back in the past. He could still sense the large amount of distrust within her, just as he had during the previous night's meeting in her bedroom. He was almost a little disappointed that Endymion wouldn't allow her to go - he could've used some interesting company to keep him on his toes during the search.
"I understand," she bowed in apology to the king. "I'll remain here as you order."
"Then I'll be the one to go," Michiru nodded toward the king next, causing even further surprise to light up Haruka's face. "I'd rather not have ChibiUsa or Hotaru going back anyway. The trip may be too rough for them."
"Now wait just a minute." Haruka began, grasping for words of protest that weren't forthcoming.
"Michiru-mama?" Hotaru looked a bit disappointed. "I've dealt with a lot worse on a battlefield than a little bit of hiking can overshadow."
"And I'm no stranger to Earth of the past either!" ChibiUsa seemed genuinely insulted about the remark. "I mean, how hard could it be to find seven orbs across the Earth?"
Michiru refrained herself for a moment, replying calmly to the two younger Sailor Soldiers.
"Hotaru, I know your powers in battle are extraordinary, I'm not questioning that. But a search like this can cover the entire planet - please don't take any offense, but I think I'd be better suited for a more arduous journey."
"I understand." Hotaru was still disappointed but looked to reluctantly agree with Michiru. As for the princess, she was still steamed about Michiru's earlier remarks.
"But what about me?" she went on, causing a look of anxiety to overcome the king's formerly even demeanor. Piccolo concurred with him - having a child under your care to worry about was a tougher task than it looked. "Come on, Michiru, let me go, too! I promise I can handle it!"
"But ChibiUsa," Gohan said with a minor look of puzzlement on his face. "I thought that you were going to show me around the palace a bit later on? If you go, you won't be able to.maybe I'll ask Hotaru to do it instead?"
ChibiUsa suddenly glanced over at Gohan and began to laugh sheepishly.
"Ah, yes, err, I remember it now! Yeah, and it would, umm, be rude of me to break a promise," she stuttered, and Piccolo caught another glimpse of that strange sparkle in her eye that she'd possessed after the introductions. He rolled his eyes slightly - he didn't need his fighting instincts to tell where this was going. "Sorry, Michiru, I guess I can't go with you after all."
Just my lucky day. Piccolo mused to himself, relieved that he wouldn't have to drag an ill-prepared child on the trip with him. Her maturity was even lower than Gohan's when he first took him for survival training. The more tranquil, focused Sailor Neptune would work more than adequately.
Despite her reasoning, Endymion looked relieved himself that his daughter wasn't going.
"Then, Michiru, you and Piccolo will be the ones to go back to the Old Era and retrieve the Dragonballs," he nodded in approval.
"But my king.!" Haruka was still struggling to find something to object to the decision, but she appeared to be powerless - Endymion had already given her a direct order, and she seemingly feared to speak against it.
"The matter is closed, Haruka," Endymion said to her, causing Haruka to growl in frustration under her breath. "I think that Michiru is more than capable of handling herself. Besides, with Piccolo to assist her, I think that finding those Dragonballs won't be much of a problem."
"Y.yes, Your Majesty." she submitted, albeit reluctantly.
"And as for the rest of us?" Tenshinhan asked, glancing around at the Z Warriors. "I'd rather not just sit around like dead weight - I say we start taking the fight back to the enemies during their absence."
"I'm with him," Yamcha concurred. "Besides, if we can fend some alien trash, it could make them think twice about trying to attack the palace."
"I agree, Yamcha," The king nodded. "I do have uses for all of you, if you are willing to undertake them. Many of my field units are still trapped out in the city along with many civilians. In addition, it would be helpful if some of my soldiers became familiar with energy manipulation defense techniques. The more help we can get in this war, the better our chances of survival."
"Just set us loose, Endymion, and we'll create some havoc," Yamcha eagerly replied.
"Before I do that, I have one more important piece of information to discuss," Endymion replied, looking toward the princess. "ChibiUsa, you told me last night that one of the commanders mentioned something about genetic immortality among all of the alien army's members?"
"That's right," ChibiUsa replied. "The huge bald guy was telling us about it right before Sailor Uranus and the others came to help. I don't know if he was lying or not, but he basically told us that age didn't matter to them anymore - some of the same warriors on their side have been living and conquering longer than we've even been alive."
"Genetic immortality?" Chaozu repeatedly absently. "It couldn't have meant complete immortality though. Piccolo killed that guy with ease; there was nothing left of him."
Endymion scratched his chin in thought.
"Perhaps," he suggested. "But I'm not exactly comfortable with the idea that our foes have any kind of immortality on their side. I advise everyone to be cautious when dealing with these beings - if some of them to survive attacks that would normally kill them, we may have to come up with new tac--"
"Wait a minute!!" Vegeta suddenly blurted out. "Genetic immortality?!"
Endymion glanced with surprise at the Saiyan. "Do you know something, Vegeta?"
Vegeta pondered it for a moment, his facial expressions a twist of shock and disbelief. Finally, he calmed himself, looking back at the king.
"Well?" Endymion asked again.
"If there were doubts before in my mind, there aren't any now," he said flatly. "I know the identity of our mystery alien leader."
The brilliant flashes of lightning that illuminated the sealed glass chamber beyond Damos were a satisfying sight to his eyes. That feeling was heightened by a pair of shrill, tortured cries coming from inside the circular area, specifically from the two soldiers attached to the black, cable-entangled pods in the middle. He had purposely ordered the construction of his 'disciplinary chambers' without the luxury of soundproof materials. Not only was it gratifying - sometimes deeply invigorating depending on his mood - to hear the screams of those who'd disappointed him in the line of duty, but it always sent a loud, clear message to any soldier passing within a few decks of the area. He did not tolerate sloppiness or failure.
Though I hardly expected the good captain to be on the receiving end of the neuroshock treatment...
Infernia had been hooked into the left pod, her arms and legs concealed by the black, tube-like restraints. A similarly colored mask- helmet was attached to her head, dark cables and electrodes running out of the top. She was gritting her gold fangs, struggling to resist the bombardment of energy directly onto her brain, but even her tenacity broke to the repeated doses of shocks and volts. Her screaming was as loud as any other who had been in the pod.
Too bad, firefly... He thought of Infernia using his old pet name for her, shaking his head slightly. He didn't consider himself to be a being without personal affections, but even his feelings for her had to be set aside to accommodate the regulations within his fleet. Without strict law and order, a leader became weak and vulnerable from certain sides, and eventually the feeling of total control over his minions was deteriorated, perhaps destroyed. Damos had no intention of becoming such a flawed leader. The last respectable ruler he'd known that had exhibited such characteristics had been gradually turned into a subordinate of a foreign power. That ruler was eventually destroyed viciously by what he thought was a 'business partnership.' No, that was not what Damos would become. He reminded himself of that every time he felt compelled to show leniency on Infernia for what few mistakes she did make.
However, Damos hadn't given a second thought to the other creature in the chamber as to whether or not he should've been disciplined. As powerful and bloodthirsty as Zebus was, he was hardly ever viable for any of the responsibilities that his duty required. The Trisgammans that had once dominated piracy in the outer reaches of the galaxy had been a disgusting, murderous race of thieves and liars. It had been deeply gratifying when Damos had been called on to help exterminate their repulsive hides from existence. In addition to eliminating competition to his trade, Damos had also acquired Zebus and his two Trisgamman counterparts - Goljor and Bargrey - from one of the last of the sinking Trisgamman warships. They'd been young then, easily manipulated and trained to serve in his army as powerful front-line warriors. The problems had arisen when they'd found out about their race's fate at Damos's hands, and despite their loyalty to him - they did owe him their lives, after all - they'd begun to evolve into renegades of sorts unless ordered by the general himself. Thus, it felt even more gratifying listening to Zebus's whining insect voice screech through the discipline session. It was almost enough to jar Damos out of the foul mood he'd been put into when the two had returned empty-handed and without one of his Horde members...
"How much longer, sir?" The gaunt, bald soldier at the control panel next to Damos spoke over the sizzling current with a flat, unemotional voice.
"Give it five minutes more at current energy levels, and bring them down. They're to remain on board and await further orders," he replied.
"Five minutes more? Understood, sir," The same indifference showed in the soldier's voice again as he began adjusting the timers on the control panel.
The general glanced down at the nearly-skeletal face of the soldier with satisfaction. Creatures of the race that Technician Gar-T'sed came from bore no attachment to any sentiment whatsoever, only reproducing to continue the existence of their power-hungry species. That was why many of his kind were stationed at the disciplinary chambers and at the lab stations aboard his private science vessel, the Demonic; they could easily keep anybody under near-lethal conditions for as long as they were ordered without feeling guilty or hesitant about it. Gar-T'sed had been as unwavering as before when the Earth queen had been put through a similar neuroshock session, even though that was more for Damos's own amusement.
"When your work here is completed, Technician, report to Shuttle Bay Nine for transport back to the Demonic. I'll be in need of your assistance there among my new projects."
"Understood, general," Gar-T'sed nodded once more before turning away from Damos and back to monitoring the two creatures inside the chamber. The general himself also turned and headed for the door. He'd seen enough of the disciplinary session to satisfy his tastes; besides, he had other pieces of business to take care of now that Captain Infernia had failed to overtake the Crystal Tokyo palace. He'd have to reorganize his strategy for overtaking the palace in an acceptable rate of time, and he was scheduled to deliver another report to Crix in ten minutes. The emissary to his employers was not going to be happy with the setback - Damos had promised them deliverance of the palace with the last transmission...
The doors to the disciplinary chamber whooshed open as he passed the motion sensors, and as expected, Parvyx and Reddyx were both standing silently outside, watching over the entrance like a pair of mighty, black- armored statues. He admired the fierce loyalty and commitment of the two senior members of his Horde - they would indeed follow him to the depths of Hell and back without question, and they were powerful enough to survive the trip.
"Our business is concluded here," Damos snapped the two warriors out of their stances, both of them standing at attention before their liege. "I need to make a few personal calls, so I will be returning to my quarters alone."
"But sir," Parvyx's deep, rumbling voice resounded around them. "What about Tridyx? Will we not pursue and destroy his killers?"
"Patience, Parvyx," Damos said. Even though a lot of his face-to-face encounters with lower soldiers resulted in a speak-when-spoken-to style of conversation, the Horde members were his elite; they were competent enough to offer useful opinions, and the verbal exchanges were more informal as a result. "We still need to analyze the information from the captain's scouter so we can get a better idea of who these new mystery warriors are. There is no sense in rushing into an attack blindly without understanding what we're up against. Tridyx did that to the Namek according to Infernia's initial report, and it got him killed."
"Killed by Crystal Tokyo scum?" Reddyx's damaged vocal chords produced a silent ominous whisper. "Tridyx must've been weaker than we thought. He was not worthy to be among us in the Horde."
"As brash and headstrong as Tridyx was, he was still one of us," Damos objected to his subordinate's remarks. "And he was worthy to wear the black armor of the Horde. Hence, whoever his killers are shall be met with great reciprocation when we track them down."
"I will avenge him..." Parvyx rumbled again. Damos could understand his anger - Tridyx had been promoted to the Horde on advice from the gigantic sentinel, who'd trained him significantly in powerful ki techniques. "No Namek kills one of us and lives to see the light of another day..."
"What's also worthy of further examination is that according to Infernia, there was no apparent alliance between these new warriors and the Crystal Tokyo Special Forces. And this is the first time I've heard of a Namek existing for the past few thousand years. Whomever these men are, they definitely were 'out of place,' according to the captain."
"What do you suspect, general?" Reddyx spoke again, intrigued. "Could they be mercenaries like us? Or just some secret weapons that Serenity had in the wings for just such an emergency?"
"I cannot make any judgments without first examining the scouter information," Damos said, pulling the gold-tinted machine out from the pocket cut out of his black, red-trimmed cloak. "Reddyx, take this to Analysis Deck Two and play back whatever lies in its memory banks. I want the data sent to my private chambers at once for my own review."
"As you command, my lord," Reddyx reached out a warped, muscular arm, plucking the scouter from Damos's hand and striding down the brightly-lit hallway and out of sight.
"My lord, grant me command of a battalion and let me exact my own revenge for my fallen comrade!" Parvyx growled, unable to resist his anger. Damos was quick to stifle the burly soldier, knowing that Parvyx's short temper could easily explode from the slightest incitement.
"Calm yourself, Parvyx," he said with a less casual tone. "You have other matters to concern yourself with. Thanks to our captain's failure, we're going to try a different approach at the palace capture."
"What do you have in mind, sir?" Parvyx asked.
"We'll go with a standard siege approach until we come up with a better idea about who these new warriors are," Damos decided. "There's no sense in taking unnecessary risks. I want you to report to Main Communications and relay a priority-A order to the Star Cruiser Sabre. They're to arm and send ten battalions into the west sector of the city to reinforce the lines. I want no Crystal Tokyo trash to get outside the palace perimeter. Once the scouter information is analyzed, I will personally transmit further instructions to them."
The order seemed to calm the giant, the idea of better serving his general suppressing his vengeful rage.
"Of course, general," he nodded. "Smothering those insects seems more appropriate."
"Indeed," Damos agreed, pleased with Parvyx's persistence. "Afterwards, I want you to report to Shuttle Bay Nine and wait for me there. When I arrive, we shall transport to the Demonic. I wish to examine my 'trophy collection.'"
"The Demonic?" Parvyx's shoulders shifted, and Damos noticed the sudden nervousness sprouting in his eyes. "Do you intend to release--"
"Not at the moment," Damos cut him off. "The standard army should suffice for capturing the palace. The rest of the fledgling civilization should collapse soon afterwards. I want to release my personal genetic squad onto the battlefield when a special occasion comes around. Such an easy conquest does not qualify as such."
"As you order, my liege," he bowed his head toward Damos. "But when the time comes, may I have the pleasure of obliterating those low-lifes?"
"The Namek's head is as good as yours, Parvyx," Damos acknowledged him. "Dismissed."
Parvyx marched down the steel-lined corridor and out of sight, leaving Damos alone in the hall. He certainly hoped that the Namek who'd killed Tridyx was as powerful as Captain Infernia seemed to believe. He'd need all of the fighting spirit he could muster if Parvyx ever got his meaty fists around his neck. And Damos wouldn't stop his senior Horde soldier from exacting that revenge - Parvyx had served him well in the past years, and he was entitled to some personal wishes from time to time.
As long as he doesn't make the same mistake Tridyx made...
Damos put his musings on hold momentarily, striding down the hallway toward the elevator, the screams from the disciplinary chamber dying down. His boot steps echoed softly on the steel floor panels, the buzzing fluorescent ceiling lights gleaming off of his polished armor. At this hour, most off-duty soldiers were asleep or in the mess decks catching a late meal. Damos preferred the emptiness - without the bustle and clutter filling the halls of the Terror, he could go about his thoughts at a comfortable pace, planning his way throughout whatever task was laid before him. The view from the plexiglass windows lining the right side of the hall also provided a calming image. Beyond the protective barriers of his ship, Damos was able to stare out at the countless stars spanning the black void of space. He always took pride in the fact that hovering near quite a few of those stars were dead shells of planets that his forces had been paid to eradicate.
The large blue sphere floating a good distance away from his flagship represented what would be their next victory, their next sum of money. As beautiful as Earth was, he'd seen much better during his long career as head of his army, though his orders for obtaining control of the planet had been unique, to say the least, much like his employers...
Damos turned the bend that took him to the end of the hall. He stepped through the circular door embedded into the wall and onto the transport elevator.
"Private wing, sector one," he said to the voice controls. The lift complied, sealing the doors and activating a set of internal lights as the propulsion system did its work. It took only a few minutes for the transportation lift to arrive at its location: the quarters for the senior crew members of the Terror, including the general's. Normal soldiers were lucky to even see this section of Damos's flagship.
He stepped onto the plush carpeting lining the well-heated corridor, hasty in his steps to return to his private chambers and the isolated communications station within it. He couldn't help but notice that his pulse was racing and his muscles were becoming tense. The upcoming communication with Crix would be even more agonizing than usual, especially since he'd practically promised victory to him with the last transmission.
A minor setback... Damos reminded himself as a touch on a wall-switch opened the ornate door in front of him. That's all. The palace will fall soon enough, and the queen's seven new heroes along with it.
The thought of his forces being ambushed so unexpectedly still frustrated him despite his optimism. Any of his battalions being caught unawares and getting so easily driven away, especially his top warriors, was considered a monumental embarrassment in his mind. It was just so, so...unprofessional. And his army was anything but that.
Glancing around the spacious, well-furnished living room revealed his quarters to be empty and quiet except for the slight buzzing of the lighting fixtures mounted on the polished walls. It wouldn't be so mercifully peaceful for long - Infernia would be returning anytime now, and she wouldn't be in a pleasant mood.
Ah, the consequences of being the commander. He remarked to himself as he stepped past his trophy cases and into his own personal office. Infernia would be rightfully enraged, that was for sure, but she would certainly relent once he calmed her down a bit; it wouldn't be the first time he'd have to cool off her fiery blood.
He glanced over at the bulky, cube-shaped transmitter station installed in the far corner of the room, doubting that the same tactic would work against Crix. His cold ruthlessness wasn't vulnerable to any type of emotion, as his last transmission had indicated.
A flick of a few switches and the unit thrummed to life. After inputting the necessary access codes and securing the headset, Damos quickly established the link, eager to get the confrontation overwith
There was silence at first after the connection was made, irritating the general a bit further. But finally, Crix's voice resounded through the headset.
"This is Crix. What news do you bring us, general? You assured us an update of victory during our last transmission."
"We've...encountered some minor setbacks," he replied in a cool, even tone. "The reinforcements on the planet were more tenacious than we previously calculated, and we had to postpone our final attack."
"How unfortunate..." Crix's voice didn't reveal any immediate anger, but Damos could tell that he was more than disappointed. "It seems that perhaps we overestimated the efficiency of your army, general...when we made our agreement, you assured us that there would be no mistakes, no overlooking a single detail. And here you are, returning in defeat over such a minor issue of insufficient reconnaissance."
Damos fought to contain his anger as Crix spoke, but he maintained his composure, aware that retorting the insult could prove to be fatal to their contract.
"It was an unavoidable circumstance, Crix, a variable that exists in any type of planetary warfare. Surely, no army can control every element during a global campaign with such enemy resistance; the laws of war simply don't allow it. The capture of their capital will take place soon, I can assure you. This was a fluke and nothing more."
"You tread in dangerous waters with your excuses, general," Crix was unmoved, as Damos expected. "Do not patronize me about the laws of war. Just secure their capital stronghold soon. Our preparations shall be complete soon, and our master would not be merciful if you did not live up to your end of the deal. Be aware of that, Damos, as you plan the rest of your campaign. Crix, out."
"Wait!!" Too late, the transmission was cut, and Damos was left eating static from the headset. In frustration, he slammed the unit down on the console, repressing an urge to scream. He could almost see Crix beginning to make deductions off of their final payment because of the failed assault, and that thought nearly made him lose his cool completely. "Just you wait...I'll show you how powerful we are..."
A sudden bleeping interrupted his venting, and it only took Damos a few seconds to realize that it was coming from his scouter. Somebody was transmitting a message to him.
Clearing his throat, he clicked the button on the side on his scouter, opening the link.
"This is General Damos."
"My lord," The raspy, whispering voice of Reddyx replied through the scouter's miniature speaker. "The captain's scouter information has been analyzed and sent through to the data-receiver in your quarters. I think you'll find Captain Infernia'a recordings to be...interesting, to say the least."
There was a tone of mirth in Reddyx's voice, which the general found a little peculiar.
"Very well, Reddyx, thank you," he replied. "Report to Shuttle Bay Nine and prepare yourself and Parvyx for transport to the Demonic. I will join you shortly."
"As you command, my lord. Reddyx out."
Damos stood from the communications array and settled down in the plush chair behind his desk. With the activities and decision-making in the early days of the mission, he hadn't been able to take any time to monitor a different kind of trophy collection that he kept aboard the Terror's private research vessel. He was most eager to see how his scientists were progressing in their experiments, especially if he felt the desire to unleash a few of them onto the infestation down on Earth. And considering his angered state at the moment, the desire was almost overwhelming.
I wonder how they would fare against the queen's seven surprises...let's find out just who fouled up Infernia's capture operation...
He activated a small switch underneath his desk, causing a video screen to roll up in front of him. His private files were stored there along with the data that Reddyx had just transmitted to him.
"Access new files," Damos commanded. The voice recognition circuitry on the computer obliged him, displaying a single file, listed as 'Captain Infernia, Battalion Beta Two-Five.'
"Display file number one," he said to the computer as he leaned back in his chair. The file name on the blue screen disappeared, replaced by seven miniaturized photo-stills taken by Infernia's scouter. It appeared that she'd been able to capture each one of the mystery warriors on her scouter. The list went in no particular order, though he recognized the Namek warrior, the one who'd killed Tridyx.
"Enlarge photo number one," Damos said one more time. Perhaps he could learn a bit more about the origins of these outsiders from the stills. The computer readily complied, magnifying the first of the photo- stills.
The next thing he knew, Damos was picking himself up on the floor, his chair lying sideways next to him. He lifted himself up to his desk as he recovered from his surprise, examining the figure in the first photo- still, wondering if he'd been imagining things the first time he'd taken a close look at him.
He wasn't.
* * *
"Incompetent slobs." Vegeta strolled down the empty hallway, the dim lights on the walls guiding him further into the wing. According to the servants of the royalty suites, what he was looking for was only several hundred meters ahead.
He'd been pleased with the accommodations that they received courtesy of the ex-Silver Millennium royalty, though the idea of sharing a room with the Earth woman's boyfriend and the idiotic Krillin had dampened his enthusiasm significantly. He'd frowned heavily as he'd watched them explore the room in their own childish manner, moving around expensive-looking furniture to suit their liking and bounding onto the heavy mattresses like overgrown babies.
"Such luxury isn't even within their mental reach," he mused, still remembering the almost giddy look on Krillin's face as he'd taken in their new surroundings. Rooms like that were fit for someone like Vegeta, one who deserved the privileges that royalty had to offer. When it'd become obvious that the two were turning in for the evening, he'd quickly decided to slip out and attend to his own devices. Listening to the two of them snoring was an even more revolting thought.
Besides, he had other plans to fulfill; in order to further his own causes of getting rid of the alien attackers, he needed some information about their new acquisitions: battle abilities, personality flaws, grace in a pressure situation.he needed tidbits like that to paint a better portrait of how much easier the Sailor Soldiers could make this fight for him. The more one knew about their allies, the easier they were to read and - if need be - manipulate and coerce.
Arriving at the end of the hallway, Vegeta glanced up at a large inscription above a pair of glass double doors.
"Just the place I was looking for," Vegeta smiled to himself as he read the inscribed lettering. "Historical archives."
He pushed open the glass doors and stepped into a quiet, high- ceilinged hall that was stocked wall-to-wall with bookshelves on two extravagantly-designed stories. The second level contained much of the literature, while the ground floor was littered with stainless steel desks that were supporting cube-shaped monitors.
The perfect place to learn about my new 'allies.' He thought to himself as he glanced around at the few faces wandering around the vast room.
He walked over to a large rectangular desk that was protruding out of the wall in the near corner. A young woman behind the counter was diligently working on filing several volumes, not even noticing Vegeta until he raised his voice.
"I'm looking for information regarding the Sailor Soldiers," he gruffly said, causing the librarian to glance up in surprise. She had to be no more than thirty in human years, and her wire-framed glasses gave her a look of intelligence.
"Manuscripts or computer files?" she briskly responded, though she looked a bit taken aback by the request as far as Vegeta could tell. He supposed that not knowing about the Sailor Soldiers in this time period was like not knowing your own name. That was the reputation that heroes got, after all.
"Whatever's quicker," he said, pulling lightly on his black spandex uniform. Not wanting to be attacked by any unwitting soldiers, he'd wisely decided to remove his body armor temporarily to prevent any potential alliance confusions. It was an uncomfortable feeling for him though - without the solid weight of the armor on him, Vegeta felt nearly naked.
"I'll energize the E-module over there for you, sir," After a quick movement of her hands behind the counter, the cubic monitor closest to the desk began to glow a small shade of florescent blue, the internal circuits beginning to hum lowly. "Let me know when you're...finished?"
Vegeta had already begun moving toward the pod, tuning out the driveling woman. He seated himself in front of the glowing cube, the screen displaying a basic search query.
"A keyboard?" Vegeta glanced down at the silvery instrument in front of him, chuckling out loud. It was certainly a wonder as to how these primitive Crystal Tokyo humans had even lasted this long in the invasion with such outdated junk. Perhaps their affinity to magic and spell-casting had given them an aversion to technological thinking.
Cracking his knuckles, he typed in his search information, asking for basic background information on the Sailor Soldiers.
He arched an eyebrow as the machine returned over four hundred articles in general information alone. Glancing over some of the titles - some of which were entries by civilians, which guaranteed almost nothing in terms of credibility - Vegeta entered a more specific request, asking for historical milestones in the existence of the Sailor Soldiers.
"Ah, much better," he grinned with satisfaction as the returns flashed onto the hazy blue screen. The number of entries was still significant - two hundred and sixteen - but many of the file descriptions were labeled as "CTPAA - Crystal Tokyo Palace Archival Accounts," and that was worth more to him. If they were official records, then he had a better chance of avoiding biases than he did if he'd accessed the civilian entries.
"Now let's see what kind of escapades our little girl scouts have managed to live through in the past," he muttered to himself. He had to admit that he was genuinely curious as to how all of them had survived the destruction of their old kingdom on Earth's moon; he also would've loved to know how in the world those blue-blooded weaklings had managed to take control of Earth after the occurrence of whatever cataclysm that Serenity's message had mentioned.
He accessed the first entry, and a wave of text flooded onto the screen. According to the account, the text ran on for nearly thirty pages. Smiling, Vegeta lifted his boots up onto the desk, leaning back in the chair.
"I've got nothing else better to do," he muttered aloud to nobody in particular. "I might as well get acquainted with our friends."
Breathing in deeply, he relaxed his eyes and started to read.
* * *
"Haruka."
A hazy voice rattled her slumber, snapping her out of a blissful sleep. Haruka leaned over toward Michiru, ready to whine about being roused from her enticing dreams. Strangely, she was still asleep, her head leaning against her shoulder with a smile on her face.
"I must be hearing things..." she muttered to herself, kissing Michiru's forehead. "Keep smiling, beloved."
"Haruka!" The voice was clear this time, gruff and deep. She quickly glanced around the bedroom, attempting to identify the voice's source.and saw Piccolo on the other side of the room, leaning casually against the wall next to the open balcony.
"What the...?!?!" She sat up awkwardly, disoriented and groggy but also furious at the warrior's intrusion. "What are you doing in here?! Don't you have any idea where you are??"
Piccolo showed no apparent reaction to her surprise, though as Haruka calmed down slightly, she felt Michiru stir next to her. She instinctively latched hold of Haruka's arm, her dreams still remaining undisturbed.
"She must've been more exhausted than she looked if she slept through that," Piccolo remarked. "But in any event, I'm not here for a pleasure call. The king and I have continued discussing the current combat situation after all of you turned in a little while ago. I wanted to inform you that he wants to speak with all of us tomorrow afternoon about the current situation."
"Speak with all of us...?" Haruka rubbed her tired eyes, trying to remember what happened the night before. After leading Vegeta to the royalty suites and letting the palace servants escort him from there, she'd been contacted by Michiru, who told her and the princess to hurry to the medical wing to speak with the rejuvenated King Endymion. Her relief at his good health was monumental, and upon arriving at the king's treatment room, she'd been even happier to find him back in his own regal attire, no worse for wear than before the palace had been ambushed. ChibiUsa had been more elated than any of them, dashing up to her father and latching onto him as if he were a magnet. And just like that, many of the more immediate concerns were displaced from her thoughts.
However, letting go of those worries had allowed her mind to slow down from all of the events from the previous day, and even Endymion himself had almost immediately remarked at the noticeable fatigue showing on her and the other Sailor Soldiers. Before she could protest the judgment and begin discussing the night's events, the king had ordered all of the Sailor Soldiers - including his daughter - to get at least ten hours of sleep before continuing further with the war planning. She'd been too exhausted to argue with her liege, and the four Sailor Soldiers had all departed from the medical wing for their rooms. Whatever happened from that point onward, Haruka's weary mind was too exhausted to remember.
She lifted up the covers, slipping onto the turquoise carpeting and walking up to the green warrior, attempting to look focused in front of him. "Well, if my liege sent you to inform us at this hour, what is so important that he wishes to discuss?"
"I'd rather not say here," Piccolo stood away from the wall, stepping out onto the balcony. "For your king's sake and for your own sanity's sake, I don't want the details to cause you further unrest. But suffice to say, things will be heading in the right direction when tomorrow afternoon comes."
"Hold on a second!" The cryptic answer wouldn't do for something that Endymion had ordered. Besides, she hadn't been scared out of a peaceful sleep by an alien to listen to riddles. "Why can't you tell me here?"
"The king is busy helping Captain Benson brief the soldiers about the situation and our arrival," he replied as he approached the edge of the marble balcony. "While everyone is asleep, I'm keeping an eye out for the enemy in case they attempt a follow-up attack. Nothing will disturb your sleep tonight, so make sure you enjoy it."
"You're running.patrol.?" Haruka wasn't certain if her fatigue was making her hear things. Was the same stoic killer who'd so mercilessly destroyed Tridyx now pulling an all-nighter for the sake of easier sleep for the rest of them? "I.I mean."
Piccolo chuckled softly, another breeze fluttering the white cape covering his back.
"Surprised? Well don't be," he responded to her. "This planet isn't just yours, Haruka. All of those fighters, despite their quirks, have a stake in this war. They chose to come here and fight. Remember that when we speak to Endymion tomorrow and if you voice any.concerns, about us."
Haruka arched an eyebrow, impressed with the warrior's perceptive abilities. She couldn't help but feel surprised at his awareness, though she tried to hide it in her voice.
"All of you." she said, stepping further out on the balcony. "And what about Vegeta? Is he on the same page and following the same plan as all of you? This isn't even his planet."
Piccolo turned his head slightly, silent for a moment.
"Autumn's beginning to set in," he nonchalantly said as he glanced back at her. "The wind is getting cooler. I would put on something a bit heavier if I were you."
The comment caused her to instinctively cover her body, fearful that her previous exhaustion hadn't allowed her to dress properly for bed. When she realized that nothing was exposed, she glared with irritation at Piccolo. If there was anything that she detested most, it was lechery toward her in any form from a stranger, even if it was casual.
"Why you.how dare you look at me like that.!"
Piccolo lifted himself into the air effortlessly, throwing one more glance back at Haruka.
"Just relax for now. Sleep well," he said. "But sleep light."
He flew off to the west, toward the main gates of the palace. Before Haruka could ask him anything else, Piccolo was out of sight. She sighed inwardly, her anger slipping away as another heavy wind causing her to shiver. She stepped back into the room, stumbling toward the bed. These warriors were proving to be something else, a bit more unpredictable than she had imagined. While Piccolo's instincts and intuition could've been useful in a fight, she certainly wasn't eager for too many early morning wake-up calls during their time in the palace.
Haruka dropped back onto her bed and pulled the covers over her chilly body, her mind deep in thought.
"Friendly with the new neighbors, aren't you?" Michiru's voice caught her off-guard, and Haruka glanced over to see her beloved's eyes open slightly, a mischievous smile across her face. "Though the look on your face when he commented on your evening wear was priceless ."
Insult to injury, just perfect. Michiru would never let her live this down.
"I'll give you something priceless, you little." she half-joked with her as Michiru latched onto her arm. "Just remind me to do one thing before tomorrow is over."
"What's that?" She leaned over to her, flashing Haruka a loving smile.
"Have me talk to maintenance and see what we can do about putting a door in here for that balcony...just in case."
* * *
".and that's why I think that the others may still be alive," Sailor Pluto was saying as Sailor Jupiter continued to pace back and forth along the snake path, growing increasingly frustrated with the sluggish progress of the line. "The energy that I felt before blacking out was unlike anything I'd ever felt."
"That's terrific to know." Sailor Venus absently said; her thoughts were obviously abuzz. Jupiter could tell, just as she was, that all of them were focusing their musings on the Z Warriors, Sailor Pluto's new mystery group of outsiders that the queen had summoned into the war. The past few hours had been tense within the small group as the time soldier had laid out everything that had transpired in the past day, from the probe launching to her visit to Earth's guardian in the Old Era and finally, to her eventual death on the battlefield at the hands of Tridyx.
Jupiter had been relieved to hear of the survival of their remaining teammates, though she hadn't liked everything that she'd heard. The queen had kept all of them out of the loop with the Z Warrior plan, and that thought mixed with her instincts disliking the entire idea of placing their trust solely into a group of unknowns. Jupiter could understand to a point why Sailor Uranus had snapped off at Sailor Pluto.
The time soldier appeared to notice their discomfort in her comrades, her eyes swimming with apology.
"My friends." she continued, picking her words carefully. "I understand any resentment that you must feel towards me right now. I realize that the queen and I should not have excluded your opinions from this plan no matter how much of a life-saver it could've been. Desperation impaired our thoughts at the time.and while that is no excuse."
She struggled for what to say next, and Jupiter spotted Mercury standing up, a more compassionate smile on her face.
"Look, I think I speak for all of us when I say that being kept out of a rescue plan wasn't exactly a confidence booster, but I also think that I speak for all of us when I say that you were only doing what was necessary to protect the Earth. And getting our spirits up on what could've bean a false hope wouldn't have made our deaths any better. I mean, how long have we been teammates, Setsuna? You were only doing what you needed to."
Venus soon responded in like kind, standing and placing a hand on Sailor Pluto's shoulder.
"She's right, don't beat yourself up, Setsuna, it's not like you," she concurred. "It doesn't matter who knew the plan or not. All of us would've died either way, and the important thing is that the others are safe thanks to your warriors if we follow your theory. Perhaps the remainder of our world has a chance of surviving after all."
Sailor Pluto looked slightly relieved, a large weight lifted from her shoulders.
"Thank you." she gratefully said. "Somehow, I knew that you would understand what Sailor Uranus could not."
"I hate to be the skeptic of this group." Jupiter still couldn't quiet her fighting instincts even with Mercury and Venus's acceptance of Sailor Pluto's plan. "But we can't be too certain that the unknown energy source was one of the Z Warriors. It could've been another one of the alien commanders, or something else! There's been too much going on these past few days to be sure; I think we may be getting into wishful thinking, you guys."
"Jupiter." Venus looked slightly crestfallen, causing Jupiter's voice to nearly get defensive.
"Look, all I'm saying is that there's no way we can be positive that they even attempted to locate the palace," she continued. "Sailor Pluto, you could've mistaken their power signatures for another squad of alien soldiers for all you know. I mean, if their techniques are as similar to the aliens' as you say they are--"
"Wait, Sailor Jupiter," Sailor Mars spoke this time, cutting her skepticism off. She'd been relatively silent for several minutes, and from the concentration on her face, Jupiter could tell that she'd been pondering something. "I think Sailor Pluto is right. I remember it now.Jupiter, before you rushed into my room at the palace and helped me out of that mental energy surge, I felt something approaching from a great distance.a power of some kind, not the alien commanders, but something more vague. It was masked by incredible amounts of distortion, like it didn't even exist in our own plane. As if--"
"As if they were in a time-warp," Mercury finished, trying to fit together a feasible chronology in her head. "Sailor Pluto, could it be possible?"
"It would make sense." Sailor Pluto scratched her chin, thinking. "The time crystal I left Kami was an emergency fail-safe in case I couldn't escort them into the future myself. And while the crystals can easily teleport matter through time, they are not quite sophisticated enough to guarantee delivery to a specific location. It is entirely possible that the Z Warriors were teleported to a far-off area of our world and could not reach the palace in time to stop us from being killed by the aliens."
"How about it, Sailor Jupiter, do you doubt my mental powers?" Mars chuckled at her, knowing what the thunder soldier's answer would be. Her fire-readings had not failed them before, and Sailor Jupiter doubted that they would now.
"Sorry for being the doubter." she said sheepishly. "But I'd rather not take chances with this situation.I wanted to make sure that it was at least possible. And I'd feel a bit better knowing that the others are in capable hands."
"You're right, a little reassurance can't hurt," Sailor Venus said. "But do you know any of these warriors, Pluto? How much did the Earth Guardian tell you about them?"
"Not much that can be useful to us," Pluto continued. "Kami only told me briefly about two of the warriors. Before he could progress further, I sensed the powers of the aliens approaching the palace, and I had to rush back there as fast as I could. One of the fighter's is actually a counterpart to Kami, fused with his very soul. Injuries incurred to one half affect the other as well."
Jupiter's eyes widened at that one. "A soul fusion?"
"It's a long and complicated story," Sailor Pluto shook her head. "But needless to say, Kami had told me that Piccolo - that's the name of his other half - is more proficient and effective than any others in the group. His rigorous training methods have molded him into an unnaturally powerful being."
"Sounds like a pretty intense guy," Mars concurred. "Though he doesn't seem very adept at diplomacy from what you say. And you know Sailor Uranus and Sailor Neptune when it comes to strangers like that."
"If the Z Warriors are indeed able to defeat those monsters and save their lives," Pluto mused. "Then I'm certain that at least one of them would be willing to trust them to an extent."
"Nothing personal," Sailor Jupiter said, remembering from her own experience just how paranoid and defensive Sailor Uranus could be. "But knowing Haruka, who knows what kind of sparks could be flying back there between her and those Z Warriors."
"Anyway, Sailor Pluto," Mercury continued, sitting back down on the stone path. The line was still motionless, and the huge numbers of passing souls that were piling up behind them gave every indication that it would be this way for quite some time. "Who was the second fighter that Kami mentioned to you?"
"Ah, yes, Kami seemed more enraptured in him than Piccolo," Pluto nodded. "His name was Son Gohan, a very strong young boy that was well- skilled in the martial arts, trained by Piccolo himself."
"A boy?" Venus's eyes lit up. "Are we talking a teenager, bodybuilder, martial arts champion? Come on, Setsuna, elaborate! We need details here!"
Sailor Pluto laughed lightly. "Relax, Minako, I don't think you'd be interested. He's barely reaching ten years old and I don't think he'd look at you the same way."
The others snickered slightly at Venus's sudden embarrassment.
"Geez, we've just been kicked around, brutally killed, and stranded here in this traffic jam of a judgment line, and you're still thinking about boys, Venus," Jupiter slapped her on the shoulder as the blonde adamantly tried to regain her composure. "Some things never change."
"And what would you have said if I'd been right, huh?" Venus grumbled at Jupiter. "You'd have been begging for information, too!"
"Calm down, Minako," Pluto gently said as she cleared her throat. "But as for Son Gohan, Kami had suspected the traces of great power lying dormant within the young boy, something even he couldn't quite grasp completely. And he had a pure heart, much like the rest of his comrades."
"In other words, someone we want for our team," Jupiter nodded, pleased. She found herself growing more comfortable to the idea of the Z Warriors.
"As for the rest, I just have names: Krillin, Tenshinhan, Chaozu, and Yamcha, all of them well-experienced in the fighting arts that the aliens currently employ."
"Wish that we could find out who our new allies would've been." Mars sighed, resting her arms against her legs. "But there's no going back this time.wherever fate places us is going to be for the rest of eternity."
"The eyes of the spirit realm stretch far, Sailor Mars," Sailor Pluto replied to her. "Once our judgments are given, I'm certain we can find out what's been going on back on Earth if we ask the right people."
"True." Mercury was suddenly distracted by something traveling alongside the road - a white-collar shirted blue figure on a yellow puff of a cloud, a megaphone against his mouth. He had an extremely agitated look on his round face and was yelling something repeatedly at the bustling line, the echo of the megaphone blurring the message just enough so they couldn't hear it completely.
"What's going on?" Sailor Mars glanced over the edge of the road, nearly stabbing herself on the jagged stone scales. The blue man wore thin wire-framed glasses and looked to be about middle-age if measured in human years. He was yelling at several larger figures several feet ahead of them. Jupiter realized that she must've been more out of it than she thought - it looked like a minor scuffle was occurring several yards ahead of them. She sighed inwardly as she spotted a few fists flying between two unknown aliens; a little combat could've done her aching spirit some good at this point. As it was, her patience for the judgment proceedings coupled with her anxiety with the situation back home was beginning to grate on her nerves. It would've been sheer insanity for Sailor Jupiter if her partners hadn't been there to give her some company.
"Break it up! Yeah, the two of you, knock it off!! Anything you say and do here can stand against you in the court of judgment! Now cut out the racket!!"
Two or three gruff, heavy voices shouted back at the small man, harshly berating him in some foreign dialect.
"Hey, you watch your language!! Or else you'll have to answer to Lord Enma!! Now knock it off!" After the mention of the judgment seat's overlord, the voices died off, reduced to low mumbling instead.
"Now's our chance to get some answers." Jupiter pushed past Mars, nearly accidentally shoving the fire soldier off the edge of the road. "Hey! You over there, with the tie!!"
The cloud-rider was caught off-guard, glancing behind him and spotting the group of Sailor Soldiers. "What do you want? I'm quite busy here, as you can see."
"We just want to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind," Jupiter tried her best to sound polite despite her waning patience. "We're kinda new around here, and I was wondering why--"
"Oh, come now, I've got no time to answer those kinds of question," His shoulders sagged, shaking his head. "Everyday, it's the same pitiful questions: 'Oh, why did this have to happen to me of all people,' or 'Can you put in a good word for me at the judgment seat?' Uhh, I'm sick of being bothered by all of these freshly dead!! Now if you'll excuse me, lady, I've got some work to do."
The snooty little man tucked the megaphone under his arm and turned his cloud around, speeding quickly back to wherever he came from. Jupiter stood there, stunned.
"What a jerk!" Mars shouted indignantly as Jupiter balled up her fists. Red haze seeped into her vision as she stared after the little blue white-shirt. "You'd think that he'd have at least a little sympathy for all of--"
"Sympathy?" Crackling electrical energy seeped out of Jupiter's body as she stared hatefully after the obnoxious little man, her patience finally at its limits. She'd seen something in the man's face that had sparked a deep-rooted hatred within her. In the man's snide remarks, she'd seen the sarcastic, merciless snigger of Tridyx, a gesture she'd grown to despise more than anything else that she'd ever seen before. She just had an urge to tear the man to shreds, even though he wasn't anywhere close to the cruelty of the alien soldier. "He's the one who's going to need sympathy after I finish with him!"
"Umm, Jupiter." Venus quickly tried to calm her friend down, stepping in front of her and holding up her hands. "I don't think you want to do this, especially with our fates being--"
"Forget fate!" She shouted, bounding into the air. "I don't think anything I can do now can change a couple hundred years worth of deeds! I want some answers and I'm going to get them!!"
"Jupiter, no, wait, don't!!!" Venus's pleas came too late, and Jupiter sped through the air along the side of the road. She spotted the megaphone-totting squirt several meters away. She kicked in some extra speed, soaring directly up to the cloud and snagging the blue man by the collar of his pressed shirt. He never saw it coming.
"H-hey.!!" He strained his voice as Jupiter tightened her hold around him. "What do you think you're doing?!"
"Shut up!!" Sailor Jupiter was through playing nice to him. "I've been waiting back in that overcrowded line for HOURS now!! You're going to tell me why in the hell I have to put up with waiting so long to get one measly judgment after I've just been blown to pieces by some tree trunk of an alien bastard!"
The tirade and the voltage coursing over Jupiter's body seemed to intimidate the tiny blue man just enough. His angered gaze had melted into anxious fear, still struggling to breathe under Sailor Jupiter's tight grip. As she waited for a response, Jupiter saw that she was attracting the attention from some of the more brutish aliens lining the roadway; they screamed out in their own languages, some of them laughing hysterically at the sight. They seemed more than eager to watch the scrawny official get his tail whipped.
"Err, uhh, umm.you see." he nervously whimpered. "It's like this, ah."
"Well?!" Jupiter squeezed harder, choking the man even more.
"We're, ah, slightly understaffed today," he finally croaked out. "Some of our processors called out sick.please don't hurt me, I'm just doing my job!!"
Sailor Jupiter felt movement on her left; she glanced over and spotted Sailor Venus and Sailor Pluto hovering next to her.
"That's enough, Makoto; you're going to get us into trouble!" Venus placed a hand on Jupiter's shoulder. "Unless you want to get sent to the lower levels of hell."
"Venus is right, Jupiter, you've got to let this go," Pluto replied.
"My.sentiments.exactly." The strangling little man squeaked out.
"This does us no good anymore, Makoto," Venus said with a pleading tone. "Let it go.it's over."
Sailor Jupiter didn't respond at first, though as some of the adrenaline and rage wore away, she knew that Sailor Venus and Sailor Pluto had read into her anger, knew how badly she'd wanted to get her revenge on Tridyx and the alien soldiers that had laughed and spat at them as they died.
Reluctantly, she released her grip, pushing the little officer back on his cloud. He dropped to one knee, gasping for air and loosening his shirt collar. Jupiter floated closer to him, deliberately trying to intimidate him with her size.
"Let that be a lesson to you," she calmly said as she glowered at him. "And if Lord Enma catches wind of this little incident, I'll personally track you down , take that clunky megaphone out of your grubby little hands, and--"
"Jupiter!!" Sailor Pluto shouted, causing Jupiter to instinctively back down. She smirked at the shuddering figure before her before floating back with her comrades to their place in line.
"You certainly have a way with people," Venus nudged her on the way back, smiling at her.
Suddenly, a small stone came shooting past her head, missing her forehead by centimeters. Glancing to the right onto the road, Sailor Jupiter spotted a large group of alien juveniles jeering at them from their seated positions on the path. Disturbingly, she also spotted a few humans among the aliens, all of them eyeing the three of them up in an unwelcome way.
"Hey, nice moves, back there, sweetheart!" One of the humans - a dirty-looking teen in dark, tattered clothes - jeered up at her. "Are your friends that tough, too? All of us love our women like that!"
The aliens and other humans nodded and joked in similar fashion, prompting Jupiter's anger to return. She glanced over at Sailor Venus, saw the look of disgust on her face, and both of them looked back toward Sailor Pluto.
"May we, Sailor Pluto?" she asked politely, releasing what Setsuna's answer would be. As tranquil as she was, she despised uninvited comments as much as any of them did. "Please?"
"Just one tiny little show of force, pleeease?" Venus's eyes lit up.
Sailor Pluto chuckled softly. "I suppose children will always be children, but very well. Just this once."
As Sailor Pluto floated back to where Mercury and Mars were still waiting, the other two Sailor Soldiers concentrated their power, Sailor Jupiter more grateful than ever that death hadn't stolen their abilities from them. The group suddenly looked anxious as Jupiter and Venus charged up as much energy as they could muster.
"Hear that, Sailor Jupiter?" Venus smirked at her teammate. "Those guys are looking for some action, don't you feel honored?"
"So, you guys want some action?" Jupiter coyly laughed. "Then allow us to accommodate you! Jupiter Supreme Thunder!!"
A large wave of thunderbolts soared from Jupiter's body, thoroughly electrocuting the small group on the snaking road. The massive amounts of electricity caused Jupiter to cover her eyes slightly. She hadn't expected the attack to light up the road that much.
"Venus Crescent Beam Shower!!" Venus shouted as gold energy formed at her fingertips. A second later, a hail of golden beams sailed into the flowing current of electricity, causing a spectacular explosion that enveloped the entire road around them.
As the billowing smoke cleared, Jupiter and Venus found themselves glancing down at about fifty yards worth of dead souls covered with burn wounds and smoke pouring off of their clothes. All of them focused their attention on the two attackers in the sky, rage seeping steadily into their eyes as they began hurling loose stones and other objects at the Sailor Soldiers.
"Heh, I guess we overdid it a tad," Venus ducked as another rock sailed past her. "Sorry, everyone, you understand, right?"
"Let's get outta here!" Jupiter yelled as she yanked on Venus's arm speeding back toward the others. It wasn't like the injuries would last - everyone in the blast radius was already dead, after all - but given their miniature riot, Jupiter imagined that it still hurt a whole lot.
As they dropped down next to the other Sailor Soldiers, Jupiter spotted a whole squad of cloud-riders - these particular ones dressed in full body armor and looking significantly larger and tougher than the snooty little pencil-pusher - flying toward them, all of the riders looking extremely annoyed at the trouble that Jupiter and Venus had caused. It looked like the official hadn't taken Jupiter's warning seriously.
Pluto shook her head as the riders approached. "Looks like we're going to be escorted the rest of the way."
Jupiter panted and wheezed from her quick flight away from the riot, looking up at Sailor Mercury and Sailor Mars, both of whom were shaking their heads, incredulous at the commotion that Jupiter especially had caused.
"Hey, look on the bright side," she gasped. "At least we got back at those guys, right? Right??"
Pluto crossed her arms, slightly exasperated, but slightly amused at the same time.
"I just can't take you children out anywhere, can I?"
* * *
Gohan stumbled down the hallway, still trying to wake himself up. Gold rays from the late morning sun were beaming through the glass windows lining the palace hall. The others were still sound asleep in the plush royalty suites, and none of them were looking to get up any time soon. All of them - barring Vegeta - had been blown away after being shown into the extravagant rooms; even Gohan had been amazed that any one room could look so ornate and perfect. Krillin had remarked that none of them had done enough to warrant accommodations fit for a king, but Yamcha had quickly reminded all of them that they had the chance to enjoy themselves for a bit and that they should readily take it.
Although for the cushy beds and the mirrored ceilings, you'd think that they'd have a bathroom nearby.
He'd been wandering the halls of the palace for over fifteen minutes looking for a restroom, still uneasy about venturing into unknown wings despite the directions he was given earlier by a passing soldier.
Now was it two lefts and straight ahead.or two rights and to the left.
He was still too sleepy to remember what the trooper had told him, but his bladder didn't seem to care. He sped up his steps down the elaborate hall, looking for any sign of a bathroom.
He passed three more doors, finally ending at a larger one at the hall's end, covered with bronze ornamental designs.
Two lefts.and straight to the end! I remember now! He mind clicked, positive at the soldier's words. He reached for the knob, relief sweeping over him.
* * *
Morning, sleepyhead! We've gone out for something to eat and figured we'd let you catch up on your sleep. We received word early this morning that His Majesty wishes to speak with our forces late this afternoon, around two. Be sure to get ready as soon as you get up. We'll be back soon!
Hotaru set the note down on the dresser, rubbing her eyes and craning her stiff neck muscles. She looked over toward the ornate clock on the wall. She was surprised that she'd slept so late - it was already ten o'clock.
"Must've been more out of it than I thought." she mumbled to herself. It didn't matter though; she still had plenty of time to get ready for a meeting with the king despite how long she usually took getting herself prim enough to appear before him. Endymion had insisted to keep the meetings between him and the Sailor Soldiers more toward the informal side, but Hotaru had felt uncomfortable the last time she'd followed his advice. She'd felt too.out of place, too much like a little girl among the older soldiers. Fortunately, the presence of ChibiUsa and her surrogate parents made things a bit less overwhelming for her. They went out of their way to make her feel included, at home.
She smiled to herself, thinking about how ChibiUsa would be behaving herself in front of the new guests. "As long as her head doesn't go lurching into the clouds when Gohan walks in."
As she headed back to her own smaller room, the knob suddenly rattled, the large bronze door swinging open. What timing, Haruka-papa and Michiru-mama were back already.
"Ah, finally." Hotaru froze as a smaller figure hurried inside, turning to close the heavy door behind him. From the purple karate gi and scruffy, shoulder-length hair, it had to be-
"Son Gohan?!?!" she instinctively cried out as the boy turned. He didn't even realize that she was in the room until he'd turned to face her. "What are you doing here?!"
Hotaru instinctively covered herself despite the long nightgown and terrycloth robe that she was wearing. Gohan had frozen where he was standing, his face turning red. He looked dumbfounded, shocked, or both; Hotaru couldn't tell which.
A few moments later, he gasped and tore his face away from the sight in front of him, realizing what he was doing.
"H-hotaru!! I'm sorry, I must've made a wrong turn somewhere!! You, you see I was looking for the bathroom, err, I mean the men's bathroom of course, and I, uhh, umm.oh, no..."
She was still tense, but as the shock wore off, she lowered her arms and walked up to the shuddering boy, curiosity and amusement overcoming her. Was the same warrior who'd so defiantly attacked the alien commanders now cowering before her like a baby puppy all because he'd walked into the wrong room?
"Gohan, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you so badly," she giggled, which drew his face back around. "Ha ha, you look like you've seen a ghost!"
That seemed to put Gohan at ease, and he relaxed his stance, his breathing slowing down.
"Ahh.thank, thank you, Hotaru," he sheepishly said. "It's just that.whenever me or my dad accidentally walked in on my mom when she was changing, the whole forest would wake up."
Hotaru laughed a little bit more, leading Gohan away from the door.
"Sounds a bit like Haruka-papa sometimes," she said to him. "By the way, you guys were up later than we were last night. Do you know anything about what the king wants to speak about today?"
"Not a thing," Gohan shook his head as he stepped into the living area. "After ChibiUsa led us to the royalty suites and we got settled in, most of us fell asleep in a hurry, except for Mister Piccolo. I don't think any of us have ever enjoyed that good of a night's sleep."
"It was the least we could do." Hotaru was absently brushing some strands of hair out of her face. "Sorry, I don't exactly look decent right now. I just rolled out of bed about ten minutes ago."
"What do you mean?" Gohan asked, looking a bit surprised. "I thought that girls looked the prettiest whenever they were in bed."
Hotaru found herself a bit taken back by that one.
"What.what do you mean?" she stammered , attempting not to look too embarrassed.
"Well, I heard it from Krillin and Kamesennin," Gohan explained. "Sometimes, they read these special magazines about girls. And whenever I ask about them, they tell me--"
Hotaru quickly held up her hand, content with forming her own conclusions about the rest of the explanation. She made sure to keep that in mind whenever Krillin was around Haruka-papa and Michiru-mama.
"I think you've been a little misled, Gohan," Hotaru giggled a bit, amused by the confusion playing across the young boy's face. "I just hope that they didn't show you any of those 'special magazines.'"
Before Gohan could respond, she heard the door open and close again. She heard soft footsteps across the carpeting; this time - at least she hoped anyway - there was no mistake: her parents had returned.
Seconds later, Michiru stepped around the corner, donning a casual dress. She flashed them a surprised smile as she spotted the young Z Warrior in their living room. She didn't speak at first, and when she did, she directed it toward Hotaru.
"And to think that I started young with relationships." she said. "How did you manage to lure such a handsome boy in here, Hotaru?"
Her mirthful tone was obvious, and even Hotaru couldn't help but smile a bit at Gohan's blunder. She glanced back at him, and she saw that he was back in the same position as before - frantic and attempting to make up any kind of passable excuse that he could.
"I-I-I'm sorry, I was trying to find the bathroom and I kinda got lost." he trailed off, smiling nervously. "I didn't mean anything, honest."
Michiru laughed aloud, shaking her head.
"Relax, Gohan, no harm done," She motioned toward a plain-looking white door on the other side of the bed, "Help yourself."
Gohan bowed gratefully. "Right through there? Thanks, Sailor Neptune, I really appreciate it."
He hurried past Hotaru and stepped through the door, closing and locking it behind him.
Hotaru glanced back at Michiru with a bit of anxiety in her eyes. "Are you sure about that, Michiru-mama? It probably isn't what he's accustomed to."
"I wouldn't worry, Hotaru," she strolled into the living area, rubbing her daughter's hair as she stepped past her. "Even at his age, I think that he'd be too slow to grasp the idea."
She smiled back at her, deciding to change the subject.
"What does His Majesty wish to discuss with us?"
Michiru shook her head, removing a pair of her earrings.
"I'm not entirely sure," she replied, laying the earrings on the dresser. "All I know is that Haruka and I had a visit from Piccolo late last night. He said that 'things were going to be heading in the right direction' when the meeting time came around, or something like that."
"Right direction?" Hotaru wondered. "What's worth disturbing your sleep over after such a grueling battle?"
"I don't know the details, though it doesn't sound like an exaggeration," she said. "I suppose we'll know soon enough. But for now, would you like to go and get ready? We were going to get something to eat as soon as Haruka comes back."
Hotaru nodded enthusiastically. She hadn't been able to catch a decent meal since the day before the palace ambush, and a little breakfast would be like a slice of heaven after yesterday.
Before she could round the corner for her room, Michiru called back to her once more.
"He is quite a gentleman, you know."
She glanced back her surrogate mother with surprise, and she saw a slightly mischievous, slightly suggestive smile on her face. "And he's very strong and quite handsome for his age. He's got to be close to your age. Well, he's close if you measure in their years."
Hotaru felt a little embarrassed at the idea. After all, she hadn't been interested in Son Gohan in that way despite his off-hand, unintentional comment about her.
"I don't think so, Michiru-mama," she replied. "Besides, even if I tried, the princess has her eyes on him."
"That doesn't surprise me too much," Michiru replied. "After all, he did save her life and the rest of ours. But you know what they say, don't you, Hotaru?"
"What's that?"
"All's fair in love and war."
The toilet flushed from inside the bathroom, and Hotaru turned and walked back toward her room to get herself ready for the day. She couldn't believe that Michiru had even hinted at the idea of her and Son Gohan. They'd only met less than twenty-four hours ago, and despite his heroic nature, she wasn't about to go falling all over him like ChibiUsa. It just wasn't her.
* * *
When she spotted Son Gohan exiting from her room, Haruka didn't know what to say or even think. She'd just finished relieving a few of the night watchers and was ready to catch up with Michiru and Hotaru back in their room, but the last thing she expected was to see the Saiyan boy strolling out of the room with a large smile on his face.
"Son Gohan.?!" Even as he passed by her, Haruka was certain that he would've just kept right on walking if she hadn't said something. Where was that boy's head at? What had he been doing in there?!
"Oh, good morning, Sailor Uranus!" he stopped and turned to face her. "How are you doing?"
For a moment, she just stood there and stared at him, her body not certain how to react. Her mind kept telling her that the only other one in the room before Michiru had gone back had been Hotaru, and that began to spark maddening images.
"Gohan.why were you just in our quarters? I thought all the warriors in your group were taken to the other side of the palace."
"Oh, that?" He answered. "Oh, I'm sorry; I just had to use your bathroom, though I accidentally walked in on Hotaru."
She felt her eyes lighting up with anger, though she tried to keep her voice down. She was barely successful in that regard.
"You.what.??"
The boy suddenly gasped, as if realizing the error he'd made.
"Oh, wait!! No, no, I meant that I walked into the room while she was inside! It was an accident, I promise! I didn't see anything under her robe, I promise!"
Haruka stood there motionless in front of the panicking boy, fighting the impulse to release her rage onto him. However, as she glanced down at his frightened, embarrassed demeanor, she calmed herself, albeit with some difficulty. It was just too innocent, too genuinely.funny, for lack of a better term, to be a lie. She shook her head at Gohan's naiveté.
"You're certainly something else, Gohan. Now run along, we'll see you at the meeting later," She said in a light voice, putting the boy's attitude at ease. He smiled back, jogging down the hall and waving back to her as he hurried out of sight.
She laughed to herself, walking toward their room. Michiru had to have seen him inside once she got back, and Haruka was more curious than ever to find out what had gone on that had caused the child to blunder so badly.
* * *
The throne room of the palace was a marvelous sight. Even Piccolo couldn't deny that. Pictograms engraved into the crystalline floor dominated the center circle of the chamber while a huge glass skylight allowed the high afternoon sun to reach into the entire room. To the right and left sides of the throne room were high walls that extended upward to a stack of bleacher-style platforms. Desks were built into the platforms, each of them the size of an average dining table. Though he wasn't familiar with architecture, Piccolo guessed that hundreds of diplomats, politicians, and advisors gathered here to discuss the running of Crystal Tokyo with the royalty. The seats were empty now, most of them being restored by bustling architects from the aftermath of the palace attack. Either the seat-holders had been killed during the early stages of the war, or the council had been called off during the crisis. Either way, Piccolo felt a bit more at ease without several hundred pairs of eyes staring at him from the bleachers.
The set of thrones at the front of the chamber was unexceptional - ornate, brightly colored tapestry depicting some kinds of stately symbols was vertically hanging at least five yards above the two larger thrones, and the regal seats themselves had to have been delicately carved out of large blocks of crystal. The various angles chiseled out of the sides of the dignified thrones were too precise to have been done with a machine. It made the structures appear as the focal point of the room, which made enough sense. If a monarch wanted to command respect and authority from his or her politicians, then such attention was a necessity.
The throne on the right was currently unoccupied, and it was adorned with a thin gold and jeweled scepter as well as several smaller tapestries. Piccolo assumed that it was the missing Serenity's throne, and as he saw the regal King Endymion take his place in the left throne, Piccolo noticed a twinge of anxiety and pain within Endymion's life force as he stole a glance at his wife's seat. Obviously, he was more concerned than anybody over Serenity's current fate.
The other Sailor Soldiers - without their battle uniforms - were lined around him, Haruka and Michiru on his left side, the princess and Hotaru on his right. All of them were casually dressed as per the king's orders, though Piccolo was curious as to how they managed to go from such casual everyday clothes to their high-profile, nearly glamorous-looking battle outfits without consuming massive amounts of time.
"Thank you for coming, all of you," The king began, speaking in a more dignified tone than when he and Piccolo had spoken the night before.
During their late-night conversation, Endymion had informed Piccolo about most of what had happened before Sailor Pluto had summoned them into the war. While he hadn't been able to brief the others about the current situation, Piccolo knew that even with their combined strength, things wouldn't be easy. As it turned out, most of the capital city had either been captured or destroyed, and the majority of the experienced Crystal Tokyo soldiers had been wiped out. The few that remained were attempting to vigilantly defend the remnants of Crystal Tokyo from the onslaught of enemy soldiers. Supplies were becoming scarce, morale for the surviving civilians was in the pits, and contact with the small settlements outside the city had been cut off. Endymion had assumed the worst for the less protected people beyond the Outer Sanctum of the city, especially if the aliens had struck as hard there as they had on Crystal Tokyo city itself.
As for the opposition, preliminary scouting reports had placed the current number from between five thousand to fifteen thousand. They were highly-trained in martial arts and energy manipulation, but Endymion knew nothing of their origin or why they would want to destroy Crystal Tokyo. He'd been slightly disappointed when the king had told him - he was hoping that Endymion's testimony could've provided him with a more solid link to his theory about the aliens being linked to Frieza's army of the past.
But the surprise factor is in our favor at this point, at least. They won't be expecting warriors of our caliber to emerge from thin air. And with a little bit of luck on our side, this war may yet be won.
Piccolo glanced around at his cohorts, all of them standing respectfully before the king in a long row. It had been difficult to rouse some of them - Krillin and Yamcha in particular - from their comfortable slumber only a few hours before, but they'd managed to pull themselves off of their cushy beds and clean themselves up enough to look presentable before the royalty. Much of that had been at the Namek's insistence; if they wanted to earn respect among their partners as quickly as possible, looking as trim as possible was certainly a good step. The only surprise he saw was that Vegeta had joined their group to participate in the meeting. While Piccolo was sure that the Saiyan prince had his own motives in mind for attending the session, he kept quiet about it - there was no sense in starting any in-fighting.
"Before we begin, I think we should have a round of introductions," the king suggested.
The Z Warriors complied, with Krillin and Yamcha starting off. They introduced themselves as two martial artists, Krillin as the disciple of the Kamesennin style and Yamcha as a warrior trained in the wild and refined in the more sophisticated styles recently. Tenshinhan and Chaozu introduced themselves similarly, though Tenshinhan's attitude was more serious and business-like than Chaozu's friendly greeting. Gohan introduced himself as Piccolo's student in survival and martial arts training, and Piccolo had in turn proclaimed himself as Gohan's teacher and survivalist warrior from the planet Namek. Endymion seemed pleased with them, nodding in approval as he gazed at the line.
"And you?" He glanced over toward Vegeta, who was standing with his arms folded at the line's left end. Piccolo noticed Haruka and Michiru visibly tensing as the attention was shifted toward Vegeta.
"Me?" Vegeta replied nonchalantly. "Oh, I'm nobody of importance. I'm just another fighter who's looking to destroy the creatures attacking this planet. You may call me Vegeta."
Endymion hesitated for a moment, gazing with narrowed eyes at the arrogant prince.
"Odd." he said lowly, rising from his throne. "I don't exactly recall your face or your name in the files we researched."
"That's because the Saiyan wasn't in the files, my liege," Haruka spoke up, staring with disdain at Vegeta. "He's an 'uninvited guest,' if you will. His stake in this war isn't the same as the others; he fights for his own purposes."
Endymion reached onto his belt and drew a long sharp blade from a scabbard.
"A full-blooded Saiyan, here?" He angrily said as Piccolo suddenly felt the friendly meeting coming apart. He suddenly wished he'd informed the king of Vegeta's background during their discussion last night. He inwardly cursed himself for letting his mind slip on it. "What purpose do you have in coming to my realm?"
Vegeta didn't seem the least bit worried.
"Calm down, Endymion, and put your weapon away," he said, stepping forward to the steps leading up to the throne. "It's true; I'm one of the last of the full-blooded Saiyans in existence in my era. And you're correct, I have no reason to protect or defend this pathetic planet like my associates have chosen to do."
"Then give me a good enough reason to allow you to remain within my palace walls," Endymion didn't back down, much to Piccolo's surprise. As powerful as Vegeta was, Piccolo respected the king for having the courage to stand up to the Saiyan's bravado. "Why should I trust a member of such a treacherous race like Saiyans?"
"For one thing, you shouldn't," Haruka grumbled, causing Vegeta to glance over at her in exasperation. "Never in our old history were Saiyans ever trust-worthy."
"Don't tempt me," Vegeta growled back, suddenly smirking a bit. "Besides, I did a little researching of my own last night, and your record surprised me most of all, Sailor Uranus. As treacherous and uncouth as you say that Saiyans are, we at least never tried to murder our children if they were useful to us."
"Vegeta!!" Piccolo yelled at him before the confrontation could become any more heated. The Saiyan held up a hand toward his Namek associate, calm and collected as ever. Haruka, on the other hand, was biting her tongue and bottling some of her rage toward the Saiyan. The remark seemed to have spurred the entire contingent of Sailor Soldiers, all of them glaring with even more hatred at Vegeta, although Hotaru was looking a bit more confused than the rest. Piccolo started wondering what kind of past deed Vegeta had found out about.
"As I was saying, Endymion," he continued, pacing slowly around in front of the throne. "I have my own reasons for wanting these aliens dead. While those reasons do not coincide with yours, our ends are the same. And despite your faith in the six fighters before you, none of them have nearly enough battle experience or power that I possess. I've seen more war and battling in my lifetime than your entire army put together."
Endymion withdrew his sword.
"Maybe," he said. "But how do I know that you won't betray us? You and your people destroyed entire worlds for the sake of money and enjoyment. Is this task any different for you?"
"Ha ha, you know your history, Endymion," Vegeta said, a little impressed at Endymion's resolve not to back down. "But, do not mistake my former trade with this business. My involvement with the planet trade wasn't only for the money or the satisfaction of vaporizing lesser life forms. It was part of a grander scheme: for me to get close enough to the tyrant who destroyed my race and to wait for the right opportunity to eliminate him. This war is no different. Our victory is part of a grander design for me, and unless I cooperate with you and earn the trust of your services, my own goals can never be realized."
"Our services?" Endymion asked. "What are you getting at?"
"Why would I want to destroy that which is useful to me, Endymion?" Vegeta went on. "So set your mind at ease. I have no desire to kill you, your Sailor Soldiers, or anybody in this little kingdom. My goal is to vanquish this infestation of aliens from Earth, and like it or not, you'll need my help."
Piccolo glanced over at the king, and he saw the indecision in Endymion's eyes. The king was certainly not eager to entrust the safety of his kingdom on the shoulders of someone like Vegeta, but the Saiyan prince had made some valid points in his argument, some that Piccolo had to agree with. Vegeta possessed more knowledge of combat than even the Namek warrior did, and that knowledge would be vital against an army of well-trained enemies.
The king finally looked up, facing the smug prince's face.
"Very well, Vegeta," he nodded. "We welcome your 'services.' But be forewarned - at the first sign of trouble from you, you'll regret ever stepping foot into this realm."
"Your point is noted," Vegeta mock bowed at the king and the Sailor Soldiers, returning to the others. As he got a good distance away from the royalty, Piccolo heard him mutter one more phrase under his breath. "And ignored."
"Moving along," the king addressed the assembly. "First of all, I wish to thank each of you for your interference in the previous night's battle that saved the lives of four of our warriors, including my daughter's. All of us owe you our gratification."
Piccolo noticed the princess staring at Gohan after the statement, her eyes possessing a strange sparkle as she continued to gaze at the unknowing boy. Ignoring it for the moment, he stepped forward to address to the king.
"It was the least we could do for our new allies, Endymion," he said. "Though with the enemy encroaching on the last lines of defense, I suggest we talk about how exactly we're going to go about a counter-attack against these aliens."
"Of course," he said, sitting down in his throne. "As I was speaking to Piccolo last night, I informed him that upon your arrival, our original plan had been for both Z Warriors and Sailor Soldiers to join together as a counter-attack force against the alien hordes. From the research done on your various battles, the seven of you are accustomed to combating overwhelming odds."
You have a way with understatements... Piccolo thought before continuing. "And what have you gathered about the enemy soldiers? Any weaknesses?"
"Haruka, I think you should field this," Endymion nodded toward her, inviting her to explain.
"Though the fighting has not lasted for an extended period," she began. "We do have a general idea of what these soldiers are like. They're not particularly strong on their own or even in pairs and triplets, but when dozens of them are attacking at one, they become lethal. Also, as you mentioned before, Piccolo, the soldiers in our army are not accustomed to fighting in this type of warfare. Before now, our battles had been more conventional."
"I doubt that even our combined power could wipe out all of these guys," Tenshinhan broke in, stepping forward to address the group with Piccolo. "Whatever kind of operation they're running, it seems like they have an overabundance of resources to back up their efforts. Even with superior numbers, it would take a good deal of strategy to coordinate an invasion of this size."
"We haven't been able to locate any kind of central command headquarters anywhere within the city," Michiru continued, brushing some hair out of her eyes. "We've also been able to detect large spaceships arriving and departing within the Outer Sanctum."
"Probably dropping off soldiers and equipment," Krillin mused. "I'd be willing to bet that they've got some kind of mother ship in space somewhere, and they're getting their orders from there."
"But what kind of spaceship can house that many soldiers?" Chaozu wondered.
"We can't be certain," Haruka continued. "But I'd be willing to assume that they've got a miniature fleet out there. It certainly wouldn't surprise me considering what I've seen in the past few days."
Piccolo smirked within himself. He could sense a twinge of jealousy within the Sailor Soldier, probably stemming from how he'd so quickly dismantled Tridyx and vaporized his fallen carcass while they'd been nearly powerless to stop him. The envy was somewhat unfounded - he was still certain that given time to fully rejuvenate and a unified attack plan, the giant would've eventually fallen to the Sailor Soldiers.
"If they do," Piccolo said. "Then perhaps there is a weakness in their armor. The enemies we've faced are nothing but mindless sentinels - the trio that you faced last night was probably close to the top of the chain of command if they were sent to attack the palace alone."
"I think I know what you're suggesting," Endymion nodded. "But we're rather powerless to attack whatever command ships that they have in outer space. We've only begun to experiment on space exploratory craft, and the few prototypes we did have had to be scrapped for their materials. We don't have the technology or the knowledge necessary to construct a spaceship, much less one that's combat capable."
"There could be another way," Tenshinhan suggested, his brow furrowed in thought. "What about the troop carrying ships?"
"Now there's an idea." Krillin nodded in agreement. "If we commandeer one of those, it'll take us straight back to their command ship!"
"It would be difficult.nearly impossible, perhaps," Piccolo mused. He didn't very much care for the idea, since trekking all the way to the outer edges of the city would mean going through a whole army of soldiers standing in their way, and even if they got their hands on a ship, they'd have to deal with piloting it back to the fleet and sneaking aboard a populated enemy vessel undetected.
"The problem is our numbers, though," Vegeta seemed to confirm his worries. "There are still hundreds, maybe thousands of them out there, and there are only a dozen of us. Besides, if we left this place unguarded, it would be a welcome invitation for the hordes to swarm our own command post."
"It's still a viable alternative." Endymion had been mulling it over carefully from his throne, weighing in the possibilities even as the group presented suggestions. "However, manpower and our defenses are the largest, most immediate problems at the moment. As I mentioned before, the Sailor Soldiers killed in last night's battle were key to our morale and a strong source of our fighting strength. Without them, our task becomes even more difficult."
"Umm.excuse me," Gohan's voice chimed in, surprising Piccolo somewhat. As brave as he could be, Piccolo hadn't expected Gohan - someone with little combat strategy experience - to speak at all during the meeting. "But I think I might have a way to solve that problem."
The five near the throne looked confused, and for good reason.
"What are you talking about, Gohan?" Piccolo asked.
"I thought of it last night after the battle, and I wasn't sure it would work until recently," Gohan continued. "But perhaps we can restore the dead Sailor Soldiers to life."
Then, the realization hit Piccolo as to what the boy was getting at. He couldn't believe himself - why hadn't he thought of that?
"Gohan, are you talking about the Dragonballs?"
"That's right," he nodded. "It's been a long time since we used them to wish back everybody on Namek; they've been active for a while."
He glanced up at the attentive Sailor Soldiers.
"And since you guys said that the time portal leading back to our world wouldn't totally disappear without Sailor Pluto's command, I think it could work!"
"Hold on a second, Gohan," Krillin held up his hands. "I don't think that our allies here even know what in the world you're talking about."
"Please go on." ChibiUsa looked incredibly hopeful, as did the king. "What are these Dragonballs?"
"Long ago in our time period," Piccolo began. "The Guardian of the Earth created seven mystical orbs called Dragonballs. If all of them were gathered into one place, you could summon Shen-ron, the Eternal Dragon, and he would grant a single wish to the collector."
"Any wish at all?" Endymion arched an eyebrow, somewhat disbelieving.
"Yup," Gohan replied. "We've used them a few times ourselves, mostly for wishing our friends back to life."
"Incredible." Michiru looked astonished. "Could they restore our friends even though they're so far into the future from your era?"
"I wouldn't see why not," Yamcha answered. "And it could give us the extra support we need to help go through with this war."
"Hold on a second," Vegeta broke in abruptly. "I hate to be the bearer of realism, but have you forgotten? The five who were killed last night were done in by one of their low-ranking commanders, still only a grunt by the standards of the other two. If they're as gung-ho as I would suspect to get back into battle, it would be a wasted wish."
"Are you accusing our friends of being weak, Saiyan?" Haruka glared back at him.
"I'm merely speaking the truth," Vegeta said nonchalantly. "Admit it; as much support as they could serve against the dogs outside, they wouldn't last against someone like Tridyx or the other two commanders."
Piccolo thought it over for a moment, admitting that Vegeta had made a good point. It wouldn't be worth sacrificing someone to send back to collect the Dragonballs if the resurrected would only come back to be killed again. And despite his confidence in the Sailor Soldiers' abilities as a charged, cohesive unit.
"Wait a minute." he suddenly said, a notion occurring to him. "Krillin, how long did it take for all of you to gather the Dragonballs when you wished Goku back?"
"This is a waste of time." Vegeta grumbled.
"A few months, but that was only because they were pretty spread out," Krillin answered. "It all depends where they've ended up since we used them; it depends on how accessible they are, too."
"Good, that should be enough time," Piccolo nodded. "I think I may be able to pull some strings in my own era. There's a martial arts master that exists in the after world. He's a bit of an oddball, but he's knowledgeable and powerful in his own way. If we send someone back to search for the Dragonballs, they could train under him in meantime. Even a short period with him can increase their powers substantially."
"Are you talking about Lord Kaio?" Tenshinhan asked. "But how do we know that he even still exists in the after world of this era?"
"Believe me, Tenshinhan," Piccolo shook his head. "Someone as eccentric as Lord Kaio is the type of person that never goes away."
There were a few chuckles at that remark. Piccolo turned back to face the king.
"Well, what do you think, Endymion?"
"It would help us out in many ways," he agreed. "It would give us something to do while we formulate a better counter-attack plan. Not to mention that it would be magnificent if we could get our friends back."
"But who would go back to the Old Era?" Hotaru asked. "Any of our powers would be needed to activate the portal, but we would need one of the Z Warriors to help in locating these Dragonballs."
"That won't be a problem," Piccolo answered nearly right away. Looking over the members of the group, there really was no second guessing who would be going back from their side. "I have better knowledge of Earth's terrain than any of the others here, and I'm one of the fastest ones out of our group. You'll need me if you want to recover the Dragonballs quickly enough."
"But Piccolo, why you?" Krillin asked. "I mean, not to give you a big head or anything, but you are one of the strongest ones here, and--"
"Enough, Krillin, it must be me," Piccolo insisted. "Besides, if we want those Sailor Soldiers to be of better use to us, I'm the closest one that can convince Kami to grant us some favors with the after world."
"Point taken." Krillin responded. None of the others seemed to have any arguments - they either all agreed with him or were simply unwilling to undertake the collection task.
"Very well," Endymion glanced over at the Sailor Soldiers. "The power from the Sailor Soldiers can reactivate the time portal in the area where it dropped all of you off. Take at least one of them with you, Piccolo."
"They can decide for themselves, I have no preferences."
"Your Majesty, I volunteer myself," To Piccolo's expectation, Haruka was the first to speak.
The king gazed thoughtfully at Haruka, and he finally shook his head.
"No, I can't send you, Haruka, I'm sorry," he said to her. "You're one of the few higher commanders of the battalions that we have left. I need you to remain here to help oversee the soldiers and help stabilize the waning morale. Please understand."
Endymion obviously expected the decline to be a fierce blow to Haruka, and the visible amount of frustration and disbelief on her face proved him to be correct.
"But Your Majesty!" she protested vigorously. "If I combine my power with Piccolo, we're certain to find those artifacts in no time! Not to mention that--"
She suddenly stopped herself, composing her demeanor as if she had nearly let something slip out in the midst of her frustrations. Piccolo smirked inwardly, realizing her true intentions - she wanted to come along as a babysitter to watch over his activities back in the past. He could still sense the large amount of distrust within her, just as he had during the previous night's meeting in her bedroom. He was almost a little disappointed that Endymion wouldn't allow her to go - he could've used some interesting company to keep him on his toes during the search.
"I understand," she bowed in apology to the king. "I'll remain here as you order."
"Then I'll be the one to go," Michiru nodded toward the king next, causing even further surprise to light up Haruka's face. "I'd rather not have ChibiUsa or Hotaru going back anyway. The trip may be too rough for them."
"Now wait just a minute." Haruka began, grasping for words of protest that weren't forthcoming.
"Michiru-mama?" Hotaru looked a bit disappointed. "I've dealt with a lot worse on a battlefield than a little bit of hiking can overshadow."
"And I'm no stranger to Earth of the past either!" ChibiUsa seemed genuinely insulted about the remark. "I mean, how hard could it be to find seven orbs across the Earth?"
Michiru refrained herself for a moment, replying calmly to the two younger Sailor Soldiers.
"Hotaru, I know your powers in battle are extraordinary, I'm not questioning that. But a search like this can cover the entire planet - please don't take any offense, but I think I'd be better suited for a more arduous journey."
"I understand." Hotaru was still disappointed but looked to reluctantly agree with Michiru. As for the princess, she was still steamed about Michiru's earlier remarks.
"But what about me?" she went on, causing a look of anxiety to overcome the king's formerly even demeanor. Piccolo concurred with him - having a child under your care to worry about was a tougher task than it looked. "Come on, Michiru, let me go, too! I promise I can handle it!"
"But ChibiUsa," Gohan said with a minor look of puzzlement on his face. "I thought that you were going to show me around the palace a bit later on? If you go, you won't be able to.maybe I'll ask Hotaru to do it instead?"
ChibiUsa suddenly glanced over at Gohan and began to laugh sheepishly.
"Ah, yes, err, I remember it now! Yeah, and it would, umm, be rude of me to break a promise," she stuttered, and Piccolo caught another glimpse of that strange sparkle in her eye that she'd possessed after the introductions. He rolled his eyes slightly - he didn't need his fighting instincts to tell where this was going. "Sorry, Michiru, I guess I can't go with you after all."
Just my lucky day. Piccolo mused to himself, relieved that he wouldn't have to drag an ill-prepared child on the trip with him. Her maturity was even lower than Gohan's when he first took him for survival training. The more tranquil, focused Sailor Neptune would work more than adequately.
Despite her reasoning, Endymion looked relieved himself that his daughter wasn't going.
"Then, Michiru, you and Piccolo will be the ones to go back to the Old Era and retrieve the Dragonballs," he nodded in approval.
"But my king.!" Haruka was still struggling to find something to object to the decision, but she appeared to be powerless - Endymion had already given her a direct order, and she seemingly feared to speak against it.
"The matter is closed, Haruka," Endymion said to her, causing Haruka to growl in frustration under her breath. "I think that Michiru is more than capable of handling herself. Besides, with Piccolo to assist her, I think that finding those Dragonballs won't be much of a problem."
"Y.yes, Your Majesty." she submitted, albeit reluctantly.
"And as for the rest of us?" Tenshinhan asked, glancing around at the Z Warriors. "I'd rather not just sit around like dead weight - I say we start taking the fight back to the enemies during their absence."
"I'm with him," Yamcha concurred. "Besides, if we can fend some alien trash, it could make them think twice about trying to attack the palace."
"I agree, Yamcha," The king nodded. "I do have uses for all of you, if you are willing to undertake them. Many of my field units are still trapped out in the city along with many civilians. In addition, it would be helpful if some of my soldiers became familiar with energy manipulation defense techniques. The more help we can get in this war, the better our chances of survival."
"Just set us loose, Endymion, and we'll create some havoc," Yamcha eagerly replied.
"Before I do that, I have one more important piece of information to discuss," Endymion replied, looking toward the princess. "ChibiUsa, you told me last night that one of the commanders mentioned something about genetic immortality among all of the alien army's members?"
"That's right," ChibiUsa replied. "The huge bald guy was telling us about it right before Sailor Uranus and the others came to help. I don't know if he was lying or not, but he basically told us that age didn't matter to them anymore - some of the same warriors on their side have been living and conquering longer than we've even been alive."
"Genetic immortality?" Chaozu repeatedly absently. "It couldn't have meant complete immortality though. Piccolo killed that guy with ease; there was nothing left of him."
Endymion scratched his chin in thought.
"Perhaps," he suggested. "But I'm not exactly comfortable with the idea that our foes have any kind of immortality on their side. I advise everyone to be cautious when dealing with these beings - if some of them to survive attacks that would normally kill them, we may have to come up with new tac--"
"Wait a minute!!" Vegeta suddenly blurted out. "Genetic immortality?!"
Endymion glanced with surprise at the Saiyan. "Do you know something, Vegeta?"
Vegeta pondered it for a moment, his facial expressions a twist of shock and disbelief. Finally, he calmed himself, looking back at the king.
"Well?" Endymion asked again.
"If there were doubts before in my mind, there aren't any now," he said flatly. "I know the identity of our mystery alien leader."
