And now, I shall venture into the editing of…chapter 6! Gasp. Halfwayish. Only not so much. Anyway, read on.

Chapter 6: Food – The Bringer Together Thingy

Pan flopped into her favorite seat in the mess hall, leaning against one of the bigger indoor trees (an oak, in this instance) and spreading her legs across its thick, twisted roots. She sighed in contentment and stretched, feeling the effects of her latest training session ride along her muscles as she eased them carefully over her head.

Light from a globe far above was broken into a menagerie of small shadows and glowing patches, dappling her clothes and skin like an abstract painting. She smiled in peaceful delight.

"Hey, buddy." Brikul appeared before her and kneeled so she didn't have to crane her neck to see him. "Gonna actually eat some food or sit there and starve to death?" Pan laughed and took the friendly hand he offered. It was time for Pan's mess-hall trauma game, 'Strange Foods From Other Worlds,' hosted by Brikul himself. He always forced her to go out on a limb and eat things that she hadn't ever heard of. It gave him a sense of accomplishment, helping his friend experience the many wonders of the culinary universe.

"Hello, everyone, and welcome to the show!" Brikul used his best game-show host voice, blasting the words over the small groups of people that were conversing nearby.

"Brikul! Not so loud!" Pan hissed. By now, everyone's eyes were on them. She blushed deeply. All previous such 'games' had been carried out semi-quietly, and definitely not in front of a bunch of her peers. Pan grinned at the crowd, hoping to look as normal as was possible considering her situation.

Brikul ignored her protests. He loved performing for crowds. He thrived on applause. "Just go along with me, okay?" he whispered, and then turned to the crowd once more. A boy holding a sign saying 'Applaud' suddenly appeared, holding his burden high above his shoulders. The spectators complied.

"And just in case you wonderful people don't know, this is 'Strange Foods From Other Worlds, and I'm your host, Brikul!" The boy held up the sign again. A couple people laughed. "Today's guest is Pan Son, former resident of the Argo and tournament-applicant somewhat extraordinaire!" Pan sighed, threw all her fears out the window, and began to act the part of an overly-excited fan, jumping up and down and screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Oh! Oh! I can't believe it! I'm on the greatest show in the Academy mess hall! Oh!" She fanned her face violently. Brikul grinned and suddenly unveiled a small aluminum table (which had appeared about the same time as the sign-bearing kid) which bore three plates, each of which held different foods.

"Platter one," Brikul said, indicating the tray on the far left, "holds a steaming bowl of what is known as 'kissintori,' a Falion dish with moss, juju nuts, and squeegies." Pan looked at the alien foods, hopping a little and making a face when she saw something among the grotesque mixture move.

"Platter two, or bowl, I should say, holds within it a triumph of Melutian genetic engineering, the polyploidy Ta'Razin fruit!" The boy held up a different sign saying 'Sounds of Wonderment.' The audience obeyed, yelling "ooh" and "ahhh" in unison. They all laughed yet again at the absurdity of what they were witnessing.

"And platter 3 supports one of my personal favorites, the Porinthic Antinewtonslawofgravity Cake!" It was shaped like a pyramid, but was situated upside-down so that it balanced impossibly on a single point. He stared at the cake in its splendor for a while before continuing his dialogue. "And now, for the very first time ever, Pan Son will have the chance to taste each of these motley comestibles before your very eyes!" Applause came from the crowd. "Platter one!"

Pan turned to the brown goop on the plate in front of her. She had her back to the crowd, thankfully, and had a few seconds to really look closely at what she was going to put in her mouth. She grimaced. It &was& moving. Why did Falions eat everything raw? She took a spoon that sat beside the plate and thrust it into the gooey mess. The audience was now chanting 'Do it! Do it! Do it!' collectively, getting louder with each passing moment. Pan sighed and stuck the spoon into her mouth. The audience was silent. She turned around, swallowed slowly, and stood ramrod straight. The stuff tasted AWFUL! It was like eating roadkill! However, Brikul looked hopeful, and she didn't feel like disappointing him today. A smile graced her lips, and the audience sighed in relief.

"What say you, Pan?" Brikul asked smartly.

"It tastes like chicken!" The audience laughed. She leaned over to Brikul. "I am going to KILL you for this." She said under her breath. He had the nerve to laugh!

"Platter 2!" Pan turned again to look at the bowl of Ta'Razin fruit. She picked up one of the fruits, examining it. It was reminiscent of an egg, but was bite-sized. It was extremely firm to the touch; not rock hard, but rock firm, if that makes any sense. There were smooth ripples on its glassy magenta skin. It reflected the overhead lights like a window would, and Pan almost gasped at its beauty. There were no stem marks that she could see, only the smooth, rippled skin all the way around. It was so tough, though, she doubted her teeth would leave a mark, much less bite into it. She popped it into her mouth, again about-facing so the crowd could observe her reaction. She expected to crack her teeth, but felt the opposite. As soon as her teeth touched the outer surface, it broke, no, it popped, much like a bubble. The thin membrane breeched, her mouth was suddenly flooded with a tangy, fruity liquid that was icy cold, then brutally hot, then fizzy in rapid succession. Then it quickly evaporated off her tongue, leaving a smooth, tasty gas that she breathed in. It caressed her lungs, giving her renewed vigor, and left through her nose as pure air. She widened her eyes in shock. Quite the experience.

Ignoring the bunch of people that were watching her every move, she grabbed a handful of the fruit and jammed them in her pocket.

"I think she likes it, folks!" Brikul yelled, and the crowd clapped excitedly and roared with mock approval. They knew it was all for fun, and indulged the 'actors.'

"Oh, I know! Oh, I am such a brave person! Oh, thank you! Yes!" Pan yelled over the cacophony, emulating an over-enthusiastic champion. She bowed deeply and blew kisses. The crowd loved every bit of it, laughing hysterically. She grinned. She had never before made so many people laugh.

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Trunks wandered into the mess hall, hunger pangs piercing his side menacingly. He glanced around the room, aware of the many awed sets of eyes following his every move. Many of them were envious. Most of them were filled with hate. Vegeta's tactics to help him distance himself from the lower classes were certainly working. All he had to do to follow his father's orders was to act exactly like Vegeta. Worked like a charm.

Vegeta had told him many times not to associate with low-echelon pupils, but at first he hadn't listened. After being threatened with a suspension, which Vegeta was certainly capable of, Trunks had been forced to try his best not to befriend or have anything to do with anyone not of high consequence. Trunks had, in consequence, fallen in with a group of elite guys, all related to high-and-mighty military commanders, wealthy merchants, and scientists. The offspring showed none of the supposed intellect of their parents.

The only vaguely smart thing the group had discovered was that Trunks needed them (although this took a rather longer time than it would have with, say, a hamster) and they took advantage (as much as could be expected from, say, a jar of mayonnaise) of this factor. They gave him subtle reminders of his need and pushed their opinions on him with much more force than he would have liked. In essence, they used their position to force Trunks into further spoiling his already slaughtered character. However, Trunks had his wits about him, and was ready to break away from their chokehold as soon as he could get up the courage to defy his father.

The swaggering elites were now hot on his heels, strutting before the women and emitting small disdainful snorts as they passed by lower-class males. Their leader, Keebler, the only member with an IQ higher than a donkey, walked directly beside Trunks, chattering incessantly into his ear. Trunks sighed.

"Hey, look at this, fellas," Nabisco, a short, squat, elf-like kid said, pointing towards a big oak tree. In front of it, a table sat, partially blocking the groups' view of a large mass of people. Keebler eyed the scene with a puzzled expression.

Trunks broke away from his posse, intrigued. He slowly approached the table, at once noticing two animated people moving about, as if performing, in front of the audience. One had a mass of jet-black hair flowing down her shoulders. She was still facing the opposite direction, so Trunks couldn't see her face. She was waving her arms around. The other was a fat, unctuous man, who was currently staring longingly at a strange-looking foodstuff. The girl noticed this and turned to the side, allowing Trunks to see…

"Hey, Trunks! Whatcha doin? Do you know what's happenin'?" Keebler stepped up beside him.

"I…don't know." He was staring at a face that was by his standards rather normal. Her profile wasn't homely; she was pleasant to look at, but her eyes bore unbecoming circles beneath them, as if she hadn't slept in a really long time. Her demeanor carried with it a sense of mystery, though. He was drawn towards her. The girl turned away again, and Keebler waved a hand in front of Trunks' face.

"Wake up, Trunks! Hello Trunks!" Trunks growled and looked at the annoying little brat. Keebler shied away for a moment, but shook off his fear boldly. "You starin' at that cute little black-mopped numba? 'Cause if you is, you can just ferget her. I just realized who she is." Trunks raised an eyebrow. He had NOT been staring. "Yeah. You see, you is an elite puyson. Yous got connections. Know what I'm sayin? But that one over der is a whole other story. You can't have her, cause she's an Argonaut."

"A what?"

"Argonaut! She was stationed on the Argo, the classiest ship in the fleet, before she got here! She and us don't mix, you see?" Trunks was disgusted. He had heard of the underlying animosity some students had for 'Argonauts.' There had been stories of fights and bashings breaking out due to jealousy. Keebler was up to something. Tiny gears were whirring pitifully in his miniscule brain. Trunks had to go with the flow, though, to keep himself in his safe hovel.

"So she isn't worth our time, then?" He asked, hating that he had to defer to this slimy little runt, but trying to point the boy's attentions away from his obvious desire to harm the Argonaut.

"Exactly. Now you get my point. But maybe a little time wouldn't be badly spent with regards to puttin' her in her place." His tone was menacing, and Trunks knew he was thinking up some trick to play. He thought fast, trying to come up with some way to cease the impending act. But he could not do so without angering the 'gang' and alienating his only buffer against the anger of his father. He fell into a compliant silence, watching the inevitable horror (and when I say 'horror' with regards to a plan of Keebler's sensibilities, I mean 'as horrific as the energizer bunny') unfold before his eyes.

Keebler drew the group together, whispering a few points of his newly formed plan. Trunks' face fell. Whoever this Argonaut was, she wasn't going to appreciate such embarrassment. She would probably hate him for the rest of his life if she knew he had any hand in it. He had to think of some way to stop Keebler.

The gang began to creep up behind the Argonaut and her friend. The audience ignored their approach; they were laughed hysterically at the fat guy, who was now dancing a little jig whilst eating a piece of egg-shaped fruit. Trunks followed carefully behind the rest, trying to hide his face from those around him, but knowing that if he forsook his 'pals' now, he would be facing up with a very lonely school year.

Keebler crouched behind the table and, hidden from view, stealthily snatched a slice of cake that was sitting in a convenient spot directly above him. He snickered as if he were a genius, and passed the slice to Nabisco. Nabisco handed the cake directly to Trunks, who looked at the frosting-covered thing blankly.

"Come on, you lout, carry out the plan!" Trunks glared at the spindly, malicious boy and thought about what he was about to do. Shove the cake in the Argonaut's face. How complicated and scientific! This must have taken Keebler years to develop. Trunks sighed, and seeing as the girl would probably not receive too much emotional damage and Keebler might give up on his animosity once she was 'put in her place,' he rose, walked up to her, and shoved the cake in her general direction.

She, though, had noted his every move, and, as Trunks was bringing the cake towards her, she ducked, grabbed a slice of her own, and thrust it directly into his face, all without taking one direct look at him. She apologized to Brikul, glared at him, and stormed away, leaving a very cake-encrusted Trunks standing dumbfounded in front of a very large group of people who did not have a very high opinion of him in the first place. (Ain't it an image we'd all LOVE to see? Just for a good laugh? Come on, admit it.)

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"The committee meeting will now come to order!" Ambassador Rerun slammed a mallet down several times, quieting the group of elders seated at the long wooden table. "Now. This meeting has been called in order that we may discuss the upcoming Academy tournament. We need to redesign the rules to apply to our newer, younger generation of applicants, fix up the old tournament stadium, and redefine the sections of competition. Due to space constraints, we will also be forced to eliminate some of the competitors before the actual tournament, and the CEO of the athletic department is going to handle that. Our chief reporter will now give us the list of suggestions…"

Following the meeting, construction commenced, training became more focused, and the furious competition to qualify began.

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Yay! 6 has been edited!

Will Pan qualify for the preliminaries (or whatever they are)? Will she fight Trunks? Will she win if she does? What do YOU think?

Tune in next time for another exciting chapter of whatever this thing is called!

And feel free to review.