Lalalaaaa, editing the 4th chapter, enjoying myself immensely and all that. Oh, and this is the first appearance of Trunks. Ahem. On with the story.

Chapter 4

He sauntered through the silver halls, his footsteps falling lightly on the smooth surface beneath him, a disdainful smirk plastered on his face every time a lowly student wandered past. They obviously had every right to be in the same building as himself, but he had been taught not wear his thoughts on his sleeve. So he kept the façade, trying to impersonate his father as closely as he could. "He just about owned the stupid place, anyways," his father always said. He sighed as he thought how he wished he could act as himself. His father's demands were cutting his actual character to pieces. The whole student body practically hated his guts.

His angry thought pattern was cut off abruptly as he entered a large atrium. The vestibule was sided with dark marble, and sleek wooden benches lined the walls. The ceiling arched high above a glowing floor, meeting itself in the center of the roof at an intricate skylight. Natural light filtering through this window provided the only illumination. Most people felt a strange sense of awe every time they entered this chamber. Trunks, however, was caught up in his troubled thoughts, and ignored the surrounding magnificence.

Glancing at his expensive golden timepiece, he noted that he was short on the time he had to get to class safely before his next teacher would throttle him. "Imagine, low-class professors given the ability to throttle him!" he could almost hear his father say. "Inconceivable!" (You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means. heehee) Ah, well. That's what you get when your father is powerful and pushy and has a reputation to keep.

He sped up a little, but not so much as to make the few people who were wandering the atrium think he was in a hurry. He had a reputation to keep, too.

After a few minutes, he entered his classroom, a well-lit place that covered a large area. Passing the front table, at which his rickety professor now sat, he strode, chin up and trademark 'I-am-better-than-you' look on his face, to his seat. Unfortunately, the underpaid middle-aged dictator he had to defer to did not play favorites.

"You are late, Mr. Briefs. Get your hand ready to write, because after the assignment I give you, you are going to want to chop the sorry thing off."

Trunks growled deep in his throat.

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The room Pan now stood in was definitely NOT engineering. Its walls were bright, and she could hear the whir of a computer. She was on a holodeck! Pan narrowed her eyes in anger. She didn't care in the least who this schmuck standing before her was, she was MAD.

"Test? This thing was a TEST? I have just been through the worst experience in my life! I thought I was going to die! No-one was here to help me! I wasn't prepared for this! The stupid computer didn't even listen to me! How dare…"

"I have not given you permission to speak freely, ensign." His voice was not loud or obtrusive, but it had a strength and wisdom behind it that made Pan stop her barrage of complaints as soon as it had begun. She folded her arms and waited for more. Wait a minute…had he said 'ensign?'

"Yes, that's correct, miss." He laughed softly, shaking his head. If only he would move away from that stupid screen so she could see who he was! "You have passed the test, the test that every officer is given before he or she can earn rank. Had you failed, you would have been a civilian for the rest of your life." He shifted slightly, and Pan squinted, trying desperately to make out the man's features. She could tell that he was tall. That was a fat lot of help.

"Excuse me….sir, but you addressed me as 'ensign.' I have no rank, as you yourself implied. I am only acting as an ensign would."

"Observant, aren't you? Yes, well I have been following your duties for a little while. You seem to show promise. You are diligent, hard working, intelligent….yes, I think you will turn out just fine." He moved forward.

"Excuse me, sir? I don't understand." Her eyes widened. "Have you just promoted me?" She thought about how her parents would feel to have an officer as a daughter. A young officer, at that.

"Yes, but it isn't quite a sealed deal. You see, the test you took was not for a promotion; it was for entrance to CSSF Academy." Pan gaped. The Academy was one of the best schools available. It took only the most ambitious young men and women into its halls, and employed the best professors, many of whom had been active officers in the CSSF. All graduates of the two-year school headed on to become high-ranking officers on advanced ships. Pan was amazed. She had been accepted?

"I am proud of you, Pan. If I may call you by your first name, that is…?"

"Yes…yes of course." Pan stated breathlessly. She still couldn't quite grasp her good fortune. The mysterious man stepped away from the bright screen, allowing Pan to see his gruff, cleanly shaven cheeks, square jaw, bold cheekbones, and prominent brow.

"Captain Greco!" She gasped and babbled her apologies quickly for speaking out angrily, mentally kicked herself, and breathed deeply to calm down.

"You will be sent to the Academy in one weeks' time, allowing for a few final good-byes and the packing of necessary items. Don't bother with too much clothing; uniforms will be provided when you arrive. You should probably bring a nice dress and a couple casual outfits; anything more will just take up needed space. Your rooms are not large.

"I must remind you that though you are currently an ensign, once you arrive you will be designated a civilian student. You have no rank at the Academy. Your privileges will be returned to you once you graduate. And here's some free advice: Be careful around some of your fellow students. Anyone who has had the chance to ride on the Argo, much less serve on it, is envied. People can get overly jealous of your luck, and may verbally insult you, become obtrusive, or even attack you physically. Try to avoid any fights, though. Anyone who enters into a physical quarrel with a fellow student, no matter the reason, will be punished soundly. You think you can remember that?" He smiled kindly.

"Yes, sir." She replied, still a little appalled that she had insulted the Captain of the Argo. "I'll do my best, sir."

"I believe you, Pan. Now go to your quarters. You are relieved from any further duties in order to prepare for your trip."

"Thank you, sir." She waited, remembering a bit of the CSSF etiquette her father had drilled into her head.

"Dismissed." Captain Greco briskly departed, leaving Pan in the empty, buzzing room.

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"We are so proud of you, honey!" Videl said, beaming yet standing as straight as a rod, as any officer would. Pan was in the shuttle bay, ensconced by her parents, Bra, a few maintenance officers, and Lt. Novak, who was there to pilot Pan's shuttle. Gohan looked as if he was regretful of her imminent departure, but she knew he wanted her to attend CSSF Academy. He had wanted her to do so all her life.

Bra stepped forward. "Here." She followed up her one-word sentence, an event that almost never occurred with Bra, by handing Pan a small package wrapped in brown paper. "It's a collection of different kinds of hot chocolate. I thought they might make you think of me, so whenever you feel lonely or annoyed, just drink one of those and imagine me chattering away." She sniffled a little bit and looked down. "I'll…I'll miss you, Pan." Pan drew her close friend into a warm embrace and thanked her silently. She knew that if she tried speech, she'd begin bawling in front of her parents. Not something to do if they were high-strung about the whole thing already.

"Be careful around those Academy men, Pan," Bra continued, "They aren't to be trusted. I have a brother going there. He isn't all that nice; I don't think he likes people. Stay away from him, K?" Pan eyed her quizzically. In all their conversations, Bra had never once mentioned that she had a sibling. Funny; come to think of it, she hadn't even mentioned one thing about her family.

"Name?" she asked, just to be on the safe side.

"Trunks," Bra replied, and then she waved and scurried off, sending a "Bye!" over her shoulder. She looked as if she was about to break down.

"Don't get into any fights, dear," Videl began.

"I know, mom. The captain already gave me the 411 on that subject." After smiling at Videl, Pan threw herself into comforting maternal arms. &I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry!& Pan thought, squeezing her mother tightly as she could.

"I love you, dear." Videl got out, before she shut her eyes and gulped.

"I love you too, mom." Pan held on a little longer and then stepped away, grinning. She was then knocked to the side by her father, who lifted her up in the air and moved her around as if she were a toy airplane. Somehow she didn't care that she was being treated like a kid again. She laughed uproariously and held on for dear life. "Dad! Hahaha…Dad! Heehee! Hey!" He finally let her down and hugged her, expressing his thoughts.

"I'll miss you, chica. Never forget that you are a Son, and if anybody messes with you, they will have to face up with me first!" Pan laughed again and moved back, looking at her parents, tears finally pushing their way to the surface.

"I love you guys." It was all she could get out, for the maintenance crew had finished with the shuttle diagnostic and Novak was ushering her into the small craft. She gave a final farewell gesture to her family, and disappeared through a small door, followed by the Lieutenant.

Novak took her seat in front, typing in commands and causing the ship to lift off. The bay door opened and the apprehensive young Pan was on her way.

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Trunks flopped onto the couch in his small room at the Academy. His roommate was not known for his skills at organization or cleanliness, so as Trunks fell he came face to face with a pair of raunchy, smelly gym socks. He yelled in disgust and jumped up, hitting his head on the shelf above him in his haste. "Ow!" he yelled, rubbing his pobre cabeza. He sighed, thinking not too fondly on the pile of extra work he had to do tonight. &Guess I'd better cancel that game of racquetball with Goten,& he thought miserably. He decided to call his mom to receive some sympathy before he dove into his assignment.

Trunks pulled out his flat, rectangular telecommunicator, set it on a table, and dialed up Capsule Corp headquarters. A pink-haired young woman appeared on the screen, speaking with a strong Australian accent.

"G'Day! Capsule Corp Headquarters, how may I help you?" He knew her well. She had been his mother's personal secretary for the past five years.

"Yeah, hey Tunio. Could I talk to mom, please?"

"Sure, kid. I'll put her on." She tapped a few commands into the console in front of her and the screen went blank. A moment later, Trunks saw a picture of his aqua-haired mother, Bulma, tapping her fingers and smiling.

"Hey, Trunks! How are you doing at school?"

"Not so good. I just called to get some remonstrance to fill my needs before I have to slave away at some unfairly assigned work. These teachers always keep me on a tight reign." He sighed, running his fingers through his short, lavender hair and resting his forehead in the palm of his hand. "I know they don't want to treat me any better than anyone else, but they're singling me out by treating me worse! It's so annoying sometimes."

"I know, honey. But they do have to make sure not to coddle you; I mean you're already assured a command of a small vessel after you graduate just because of your status. They're just overcompensating in order to be safe. Try to see both sides of the situation," she soothed. "Sorry I can't help you any more than that, but I can't lie to you, sweetie. And I'm in the middle of a big deal right now, so I'd better go. Love you, Trunks! Behave, and beware the devillish chickies who want to marry you!"

Trunks laughed. "I will, mom. Thanks." The screen went blank and Trunks again stood. "Time to get to work, I guess," he said, wiggling his fingers like a magician casting a spell, clenching them into fists, and picking up a pen.

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There. Didn't really edit that one too much. Not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing…

Anyway, Review! Please?