Okay, sorry for the wait, but you know how it is. Homework. Homework. Did I mention homework? Anyhoo, I do have more plot and stuff, so don't think this is gonna be one of those stories where the author just loses interest and leaves everyone wondering what would have happened. I hate it when that happens. And I know, I haven't been a perfect updater…okay, so I'm a not so good updater….ALRIGHT! I admit it! I'm the worst updater in the world! (sobs) Alas, though, I cannot fix it. 'Tis a character flaw.
Thanks muchly for the great reviews! Sheylan, you and your friends are great, sorry for making you wait so long for this chapter. Lothlorien, yes I love Monty Python, and Card Captors, and thanks so much for giving me input on the Qatoran species thing. I think I may follow your advice…maybe. It all depends. But thanks for the support, everyone! See you in the next chapter!
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Chapter 14
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Graffal clenched his damp fingers together, molding them in an eternal death grip around his lucky charm. The well-worn figurine simply looked at him, oblivious to his obvious distress. His dirty helmet sat beside him on the wooden bench. His dress shirt was unzipped far enough that an ample amount of sweat-filled chest hair poked out. His pot belly quivered as he leaned forward, doing all he could to keep from sobbing in absolute terror. He bit his unshaven upper lip and squeezed his eyes shut, simply sitting still in his hunched position and taking in the sounds of preparation - preparation for his murder.
Oh, sure, they all said he wasn't going to die or anything. In fact, they had the gall to add that they wanted him to come over for dinner tonight. But Graffel knew better. Graffel knew they had been after him all along; they all had it in for him from the very beginning. He shook his head to clear it from the muddled resignedness that threatened him. Sometimes he himself was convinced he was doing something honorable. But this wasn't great or heroic. It was suicide! A kamikaze mission assigned by those who said they believed in the sanctity of human life! Hah! What a laugh. Whatever language he put it in, Graffel knew one thing; he would not survive to see another sunrise.
"What do you think, horse? Do you care that this is my last day on earth?" The horse looked at him with his beady eyes. Sometimes he seemed almost sympathetic. Not today. He was mocking him, too. Like everyone else. "Well, fine! Be that way!!!" Graffel heaved the small figure at the opposing window in a fit of rage and stared at the small fracture he had made in the glass. His eyes focused past it to comprehend the large, imposing vessel that used to be one of the janitorial ships that worked at the nearby starbase. Now it was decked out in rainbow colors. It was now a technologically advanced rodeo clown, meant for one thing; to die. In happy multichromatic sunshine. Whoopie.
Graffel was the poor sap chosen to fly the harlequin ship to doom's doorstep. He was none too happy about such a prospect.
Looking down again in despair, he noticed his little figurine staring sadly up at him, abandoned. "Oh, horse! Forgive me! I'm so sorry! You're my one true friend, really!" He began to cradle the silver animal in his arms, cooing to it. It was in this state that Pan found him.
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*Who is this guy? A lunatic? And what the heck is he all worked up about?* Pan cringed at the pitiful actions of the middle-aged man before her. She had been on her way to pick up a man who was to pilot the decoy mission, and this little episode was unexpected. She kinda hoped this guy would be gone when an actual, factual pilot appeared…
"Uh…excuse me? Sir?" The man raised red-rimmed eyes up and stood, albeit shakily. "Are you doing alright there?" The man only broke into another barrage of sobs. Pan raised a hand to ward off errant drops of water and waited patiently. After the man slowed his breathing a modicum and was able to stand without shaking heavily, she grabbed him by the arms and sat him down as gently as she could. "Would you like to talk about it?"
"Horse! My poor horse. I'm soooo SORRY!" Sobs again. Sigh. Pan comforted him.
"Did your poor horse have to go away for a while?" Sure, she was patronizing, but this guy seemed to be a couple penguins shy of a tuxedo junction. She waited again.
"My…my life…is over. WAAAAAAAAAH!" He leaned his large head on her shoulder. She shied back and cringed yet again. This guy was sweating! Ick! Oh, well…might as well make the best of it.
"What do you mean by that? Are you depressed? Do you feel like life is not worth living? (Do you sometimes feel you are bombarded with questions that come at really inopportune times and are really annoying and stereotypical and you just gotta hit something…like your therapist, for instance?)(no, I am not seeing a therapist, though people tell me it may not be such a bad idea;) )"
"I love life! They're trying to kill me! I have to go neeeeeeeeeeeeeeWHOOOOSH and then go BOOOOOM and then it's bye-bye for me!" Pan stared at him for a while with a fixed expression of amazement. She had found a living village idiot! She thought such stories were merely to frighten children, but she guessed she had been wrong all along…
"Ooooookaaaaaay…would you like to explain that using syntax?" She knew she wasn't quite comforting anymore, but this was aggravating. She wasn't a social worker.
"A decoy! That's all I am to them! A stupid, stupid, clown for the kicking! Ooooooh, what am I gonna DOOOOOOO?" Pan stood then, surprised. *This* was the pilot? He was unstable! He could detonate at any moment! This could not happen. Pan had to do something.
"Wait right here, sir. You're not going to be a decoy anymore if I have anything to do with it." They needed a decoy pilot, and quick. But who? To suffer such risk with no promises of safety, who would volunteer with such guidelines? And then, Pan knew it. She knew who could pilot the decoy. She knew who had the skills needed to lure the danger away from the planet.
Her.
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Trunks hopped into the cabin of the K-7. The controls shone with the polish of just-out-of-the-box freshness, and filled the enclosure with a smell of newness. He sat in the comfortable seat, flipping on the view screen and running a couple tactical checks. He began heating up the system's driving core, relishing the quick hum of the engine as it took in power.
His eyes traveled over to the open side hatch. Through it he could see the partner K-7, currently vacant. Where was she?
{{Trunks Briefs, we have a message for you. It's about a Miss… Pan Sun? Sin? I dunno, but it's urgent.}}
Trunks raised an eyebrow. This sounded strange… "Go on, then."
{{Sure. It says, and I quote: "Trunks, you baka, I never should have listened to you in the first place. This is a stupid idea. We'd never be able to get past a fully loaded and armored Qatoran ship even if we were the best pilots in the universe. I vote to forgo the heroic efforts and resign myself to my fate. Being dominated. I hope you will, too. But knowing you, you'll never give up. You'll never win, either. I'm not coming. That's that. By the time you get this, I'm in Bermuda, taking in sunshine. Ciao.}}
Another eyebrow lifted quizzically. He didn't believe it for a second. Pan wasn't a cop-out. He knew it from the first fight they'd had. She gave her all in everything she did. She wouldn't give up now. This had the stench of "feminine conniving" written all over it…
Then again, time was short. He couldn't leave now and try to stop whatever crazy, dangerous plan she was attempting, so he'd just have to hope she was safe in her position on the battlefield. Now all he could do was wait for the decoy. Then he could make his move.
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Pan shook hands with Commander Keeth and quickly grabbed the pack that she had thrown together a moment before. She lugged the heavy, awkward bulk along the runway, heading at her speediest waddle to the entrance of the decoy, now lovingly termed "the chuckles-mobile." She smiled inwardly at the enthusiastic joking she had seen when the few resident militants began good-naturedly ridiculing the poor vessel. They were good people; persistant, courageous, and tenacious. A pity she hadn't met them sooner. A fleeting shimmer of fear laced itself across her skin as she climbed into the main cockpit. She suppressed any further terrors, more because she thought she might become akin to poor Mr. Graffel than because she feared her impending mission.
Her pack landed beside her with a thud. She began a quick rundown of her ship. Fortunately, the technicians had had some time to update a few systems and install a few others. Pan soon found, to her delight (she's a sick puppy) that the ship was now fully loaded with lightweight yet deadly weapons, as well as a very efficient driver system, an extra "life-boat" type ship for emergencies, and fifteen or so cutting-edge short-range probes. If she happened to encounter the Qatoran ship, she'd be quite able to get volumes of information on their technology.
And if the bakas happened to attack her, they'd have no easy capture. She had a shield that could withstand 100,000,006 metric tons of pressure, ward of at least fifty-one photon torpedoes, and block any type ten phaser out there. This Neo-shield made the chuckling bag of bolts capable of successfully playing chicken with a small planet…without moving an inch. (Did that make sense? I hope it did…)
Pan efficiently completed scans and stood, shuffling through her pack for some items that she had known she would need sometime. First, she drew from the leather folds a type B phaser, which she jammed into the back pocket of her loose black slacks. She stuffed the cuffs of said pants into her tall, comfy boots. A handful of razor-edged daggers exited the pack next. She had had them made in her second year at the Academy, and they were specially balanced for her throwing style. Kugo would have loved them. She slid a couple into her boots, feeling the cold metal scrape her ankles. Two more went up her baggy sleeves. Another was stuck along the back of her neck, where it rested between her shoulder blades. She continued hiding the knives at various places about her person, and soon she had gained quite a few pounds. Finally, she pulled her broadsword and sheath from the bag, belting it around her compact waist and savoring the relaxed weight of the weapon as it eased across her belly. Fear now left her. She was prepared for anything the Qatorans had to throw at her.
{{Pan, we've sent the message to him, but he probably didn't buy it.}}
Pan raised her head slightly. She hadn't expected him to. "No matter. Just make sure he does what he's supposed to, and I'll do my job. It time yet?"
{{Well, I'll have to tell him, but yeah. As soon as you see his ship exit the cargo bay, you'll have free airspace and clearance. Good luck.}}
"Thanks." Sighing, Pan smoothed her bangs away from her forehead and sat in the pilot's seat. She would not be nervous. She was calm. She could do this!
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Trunks sat at the ready, his dark helmet sitting easily atop his head. He could hear his heavy breathing whisper in his ears, and struggled to slow his oxygen intake. This was no time to get dizzy.
His hand gripped the control stick between his knees, and his free fingers hovered over the main board, ready to command the ship to lift off. No runway lay before him; k-7s were well-known for their vertical take-off and landing capabilities. They were also known for their speed.
{{Ready, Trunks?}}
Ready? Ready?? Pan is out there getting herself killed and you're asking me if I'm ready to abandon her to her fate? DO YOU THINK I'M READY??
"Yes, sir."
{{Very well. You may go at any time; the Qatorans will be duly decoyed; I have full faith in our new pilot.}}
"New pilot? Wha?" Trunks barely got the first two words off his tongue when he realized the short-range message had been severed. He grimaced. So this was what Pan wa sup to. She was going to get herself killed!
Pushing his tumultuous emotions aside, Trunks lifted the K-7 carefully off the bay floor. Checking overhead to confirm that the ceiling access was indeed open, he accelerated up and exited the military complex. He headed for the atmosphere.
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Pan nodded when the signal came and slowly revved up the sick old engine of her vessel. A great speed system had been installed, but the burners required the vessel to be airborne and in space for efficiency of fuel usage. Pan had to rely on the ship's original propulsion to get her off the planet and through the atmosphere. The would be quite a feat.
She heard the engine respond to her constant urging and felt herself being shaken; first slowly, then quite vigorously. She was happy modern ships didn't shake a body so when they took off. She'd just have to endure it. Her jaw chattered and her knees began to knock each other. She'd surely have bruises after this episode…
Finally, the jolly giant inched forward, ever so slowly, heading down one of the longest runways the military could provide. Pan really hoped she could pull this off. She increased speed, and soon she was clocking along at 40 miles an hour. Not good. "Come, on, chuckles, you know you can do this! You've done this before, haven't you? Come on, speed up!" At that, she slammed her hand on the "gas" of the system and heard a low growl hiss from beneath her. The engine had stopped. She'd have to get back to the beginning and start again! And time was running out. She had to get up there to stop the Qatorans from discovering Trunks' K-7! But perhaps there was some other way…
Pan scanned the surrounding airfield and saw a shipment of Ko'Rathen crystals (future TNT-huzzah) awaiting their distribution. The people didn't really *need* Ko'Rathen crystals. At least not now. Pan made sure no life forms were wandering to near the shipment and the aimed her rear weapons at the shipment.
"Okay…either the resultant explosion propels me forward with enough speed to obtain escape velocity, or…I get blown to bits. Great fun. Well, I have no other choice, so here goes…" She fired her rear weapons and waited. Nothing happened. "Huh? I just blasted that highly volatile pile of explosives with my most powerful weapon, and NOTHING HAPPENS?" She turned around in her seat to eye the rear window. The pile just sat there. This was-
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Okay, so it worked.
Pan felt her ship shoot forward down the runway, and clung to her chair, hanging on for dear life. Flames licked the rear hull as she sped, riding the wave of extreme heat. Millions of alert beeps blared in her ears. HULL BREACH, one readout stated. She'd have to risk it. Shields up to maximum power. She'd need all the armor she could get to leave the atmosphere safely.
She pulled the wheels of the ship in and sped up to maximum velocity. She was flying along at quite a rate, now. She raised the structure up into the air, using all of its systems simultaneously just to keep from blowing up. Soon, she was ascending through the sky at an alarming rate. Clouds passed by her smoking hull. Blue sky appeared over head, and Pan continued urging the ship higher, ever higher. Citius, Altius, Fortius! (sorry, I had to. Hey, the Olympics just ended…just say that's my little tribute).
Soon, blue graded to ebony and Pan gasped. The Qatoran ship was directly in front of her.
Pan calmed herself down and checked over her damage reports. Apparently, the hull was breached, but only slightly, and on deck 3. The uselessness of the deck and remote placement of the breach made it easy for Pan to fix the problem. She sealed off the deck and looked to her more immediate problem.
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All systems were off. No energy permeated the efficient barrier recently employed by Chikyu's new K-7's-essentially, the ship was invisible to all sensors save the human eye. Easily remedied; Trunks observed from a hideaway behind a conveniently placed asteroidish mass-type-thing as Pan burst through the outer atmosphere in a bulky, rainbowy (running out of adjectives here, folks) ship that had been burned almost to a crisp. Almost, but not quite. She seemed to be okay for now, so Trunks remained where he was. No point getting them both into trouble with the Qatorans. If worse came to worse, he'd still have the element of surprise. As if that would boost their advantage at all against a primed battleship full of disgruntled Qatorans. He knew they still begrudged the Chikyu-Saiyan alliance their swift retaliations at the Form-Alda wars on planet Hyde over a hundred years ago. The Qatorans had been ready to swallow up the Hydian planet for its huge supply of Tygan fluid. Control over such an influential element would have given Qatar a huge one-up on the raw-material-dependent fourth sector, where Chikyu was located. The fleet, overseen by Vegeta the great-from whom the current Vegeta descended-was quick to deploy their best armada, and squelched the squabble before the Qatorans could say "Cheesecake." (Qatorans are very fond of cheesecake-the only part of their softer side that has been allowed to be seen by the public eye.)
But years later, the fleet that once was so inadequate in battle had been modified so that it posed a great threat to Chikyu society. Some had predicted such an advancement in armament among the Qatorans, but most politicians and military leaders had been so focused on the mundane that they had completely forgotten their third-sector neighbors, until fifty years ago. On a fateful day in the year A.K 968, swarms of Qatoran attack ships invaded the neutral zone separating the third and fourth sectors. The Chikyu-Saiyan fleet did all they could to defeat them, but soon they were overwhelmed. Qatorans made it past the first-line defenses and found their way to the planet Cephanos. It was there they slaughtered millions of innocent civilians in their search for destruction. They weren't looking for materials. They didn't even need to have that planet for strategic purposes. They merely wanted to satisfy their blood lust. So, they destroyed the planet mercilessly.
That move was their downfall.
Six of the ten sectors who had chosen to remain neutral were polarized by such an outrageous act of genocide, so much so that they instantly formed an inter-sectoral militia, all focused on one thing; eradicating the Qatoran forces. Within three months of mobilization, the majority of the enemy fleet had been driven far back into the third sector. However, a contingent of elite Qatorans stationed on the now-barren planet of Cephanos held off the league of sectors while planning a massive final strike.
The league of sectors knew they had to act fast. Each sector sent as many men as they could send to form one giant land invasion force. After being transported down to Cephanos' surface, the troops surrounded the enemy and demanded immediate surrender. The Qatorans refused. What followed was the bloodiest, most terrifying, most sickening battles ever recorded in Chikyu-Saiyan history.
However, eventually, the league won hands down. The Qatorans were forced to sign a peace treaty which guaranteed that they would limit their military development in future generations and try to become a useful part of society.
Of course, only the extreme idealists actually believed the Qatorans would follow such orders. And so, they completely disregarded them. Since then, they have built their army forces up to such a point that if they were given half a chance, they would be able to seriously threaten the safety of the entire quadrant. They were watched very carefully.
But eventually, the people got so used to life as it used to be, they forgot about the Qatoran threat. Generations passed, and soon the great war was only a wisp of a memory.
But the Chikyu-Saiyans were not going to make the same mistake twice. They began to develop their defensive and offensive technology, preparing for that imminent day when the Qatorans would want their revenge.
*So, this…* Trunks thought, eying the massive ship before him, *this is revenge…*
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Pan merely sat there, mulling over what she should do to get this ship away from Trunks' planned pathway. Knowing the Qatorans had already noticed her, she decided to merely wait and let them make the first move. *And if their first move happens to be blowing you to smithereens??* a small voice in her head demanded. On second thought…
{{Pan!}} Another voice? Maybe she was going insane or something.
{{Pan, answer me, quick! Can you hear me?}} Pan realized that someone had hacked into her short-range comm-link.
"Who's there? What do you want?" She whispered only because the man on the other side of the link was doing so. She realized her stupidity. As if anyone was eavesdropping in outer space!
{{Pan, it's me! Trunks!}}
"Trunks? Wait a minute, you're supposed to be off where the Argo is! What the heck are you doing here?"
{{Shh..not so loud. The Qatorans might be hacking into our link.}}
"And WHISPERING is supposed to HINDER HACKING???"
{{Well, um…never mind, at any rate, you and I seem to be in a bit of a bind - }
"Where are you, anyways? My sensors didn't pick up any other vessels anywhere near here!"
{{It doesn't matter! All you need know is that I'm stuck and I need to get past the Qatorans without their notice.}}
"You were supposed to have done that like ten minutes ago, wacko!"
{{I KNOW!}} He paused. {{Forget that. I just need a diversion…a big diversion. Any ideas?}}
"Well, I did have a perfect entrance before. Why didn't you just leave then?"
{{Will you drop that?}}
"No! You ruined the plan! Explain your actions!"
{{Sigh. I just couldn't go.}}
"Why not?"
{{Because I just…had to see if you were alright. I mean, if you died, then I'd…}}Another long pause. Pan held her breath. {{The plan would have failed.}} Anger rose in her chest. She had been so certain he had been about to confess he cared about her…at least about whether she lived or not. The coward! The cheeky, mission corrupting coward!
Still, argumentation would get them nowhere with the Qatorans on their doorstep. Pan decided to let his comment pass until after the mission was completed. Then she'd give him an earful!
"Whatever. Listen, just let me handle the whole diversion thing. I'll do whatever I'm gonna do, and then no matter what, you get out of here as fast as humanly possible, okay?"
{{Of course. And good luck, Pan.}} The link began to dissipate, but before it was completely gone, Pan thought she heard Trunks' voice again: {{Be careful.}} She sat back in the cockpit, finally realizing that a huge grin was plastered across her face. She shook her head. This was no time for…
####identify yourself. you are an unknown ship. you have no right to be in this air space.####
A monotone voice slipped through the overhead speakers. It was low, calm, and almost dignified. But it was cold. It was selfish. And it was soulless. A Qatoran.
Qatorans had long become popular subjects of scary stories that older siblings loved to scare their brothers or sisters with. In these, they were much like any other general boogie-monster; large teeth, multiple eyes, scary hair, wacko toenails, etc. But one distinct aspect was present in every Qatoran fable, and it was this aspect that true Qatorans intimidated all enemies with; their terrible, foul voices. It was said that just one word spoken by a Qatoran could drive six strong men to insanity.
Obviously, it was exaggerated. However, as Pan felt the icy fingers of that awful, quite menace slither into her ears, she almost could believe all of the myths.
####identify yourself directly or you shall be destroyed. defiance is vain. surrender or die.####
Pan shivered involuntarily. She began doubting if she could successfully distract such a cunning people as these…was it possible? *Of course it is. They're nothing but a bunch of trigger-happy buffoons.* She came to herself. Yeah. Buffoons with rifles. All firepower and no tactics.
Pan sat up straight and jammed her helmet lower onto her head. She severed the comm link with the ship and brought every single weapon she had online…excepting her best, of course. If she was gonna do this, she was gonna do this with an insanely large amount of ammunition.
"Let's get ready to rumble!" (sorry, I had to) Pan put the bulky ship into full forward thrust and turned around, prepared to lead the enemy ship in a completely opposite direction from the Argo. She warmed up the brand spankin' new neo-speed thrusters. She got ready to go into full forward motion and…
ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR
"Huh? What's happening here?" She searched the readouts. "The speed- system is damaged? Oh, that's just great. What exactly am I supposed to do now?" She stared into the view screen, looking over the huge ship. "I guess I'll hit 'em where it hurts most."
Pan aimed every single available weapon at where she knew the warp engine had to be located on the Qatoran ship. Hopefully she could limit them to impulse power so she could get away from them with at least a small glimmer of hope.
Ready. Aim. Fire.
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Perfect. What a great idea! Hinder their main propulsion and make an escape!
Trunks watched in satisfaction as the barrage of torpedoes and lasers cut into the Qatoran engine room. They would be pretty busy from now on. Now was his chance.
He blasted the impulse burners to maximum and took the K-7 into warp as fast as he could. Soon he was well away from danger, heading towards where he hoped the Argo was now stationed. But getting there would take some time, and Pan was running out of it. Fast.
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Pan began working to speed her ship away from some very irate Qatorans. She knew her attack had bought her some time, but how much? Would she be able to bring the speed factor online before they got their act together? She worked harder, her fingers flying over keys that began heating up due to friction. Come on, the speed couldn't just not be there anymore.
All the while, her measly janitorial engines were huffing and puffing away, carrying her along her escape route, meter by meter. Great. How helpful.
Pan knew her time was almost up. Somehow she had to escape the Qatorans. Somehow she had to get out of here!
####surrender your ship at once and face the consequences of your actions.####
Pan turned her ship around slowly, coming face-to-face with the barrel of a huge captor-pak20 buster rifle. Or not.
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Uh oh. What in the world is poor Pan gonna do? Will she be abducted? Will she be destroyed right where she stands? Will the Qatorans (gasp) take her ship and hang it on their 'wall of gaudy space things?' Tune in next time for another exciting episode of…dumdum…PaN's CoNtInUiNg MiSiOn!!! AAAAAAAAAAUGH!