Dragonball: Universe
-------
Gokan stepped into the dimly lit hallway, letting the sound of his shoes clamor noisily on the stone floor. What was this place? It seemed all too familiar, like it was a part of him that had long been forgotten. In the darkness ahead, he could make out a shape, huddled low to the ground. The young saiyajin took yet another step forward...
"Can you hear me, little one?"
The whisper rushed past his ear like a harsh wind. It was there and gone in an instant. He lifted his gaze, whipping his vision around to see where the noise had originated from. Perhaps he had imagined it...
"Yes, you can..."
It was closer this time, like it was coming from right next to him... Gokan turned his head to the side to find nothing, only darkness. The sounds of his footstep continued to echo, followed by a choking silence. He held his breath, feeling that any sound he made would disturb the void that seemed to be growing more hostile. Suddenly, a hissed noise caught him off guard, and he nearly fell over from the surprise. What had caused that? The teen craned his neck, opening his senses...
Something was snickering...
"I know something that you don't..."
Gokan swallowed hard, trying to work his vocal chords into making some kind of intelligible product. "Is that so?" He didn't sound nearly as confident as he felt. In fact, he sounded much worse.
Silence... That haunting, eerie silence. Perhaps it had finally left him...
Without warning, a powerful impact connected with his entire body, and he felt like he was free falling, as if the void of darkness around him was thrusting itself in and through his entire being. Wind was whipping past his eardrums, deafening in its speed. The only thing that reminded him of where he was had to have been that his feet were still planted on the stone floor. His arms began to flail about wildly, when a sudden sensation swept over him... A hand. A hand was palming his head... He tried to open his eyes, but could not. The darkness wouldn't allow it.
"Let me show you..."
And with that, a flood of visions began to pour into him... A bright light pierced the dark...
Gokan sat up abruptly, his entire body racked with sweat. Where was he? Fumbling around in the darkness, he fell off what he thought to be a bed. A small bed... Trying to catch his breath, the young saiyajin looked around in a panic, searching for any sign of familiarity. Anything to help him regain his sense of reality...
The son of Gohan stood up slowly, and slammed his head into a hard metallic object. What the... A second glance amidst the pain told him that he had just hit the bottom of a bunk. Vegeta was sleeping there... He turned and looked across the room, seeing Boxers snoozing quietly on the other side. They were in Kale's ship.
The events of the past day all came to him then, reminding him of where they had been and what they had come through. The Galactics. Ubuu. Piccolo. And then, Goten. He had been so excited to find out that he had living relatives in his uncle, and his daughter Pana. While Goten had seemed a little hesitant at first, he eventually warmed into their meeting, filling him in on events of the past, and telling them all stories of the life of a smuggler. Pana had sat there and listened, and talked to Gokan for a good portion of the night, apparently just as glad as he that she had another relative to bond with. After awhile, they had grown tired, and Piccolo directed them to this small quarter so that they could rest...
Gokan sighed, slumping down to the floor, the panic having subsided. The dreams were becoming more vivid, progressing a little further each time. The boy reached into his pocket, retrieving a piece of paper that had scribbled sketches on it. Now, he had another piece to the puzzle... He stood, found some sort of odd writing utensil on a plastic desk, and sat down to fill in more of the gaps. The dream always ended with this picture. Each time, he was able to take in a little more... Soon, he would have it. And what he would do with that information...
Well, he would cross that bridge when he got to it.
-------
The burning destruction that had been left in the wake of the Wayward was finally dying down, leaving only glowing embers of once raging fires as a remnant of their triumph. The orange-red light that had once burned brightly was now just a dull roar, with billowing smoke climbing into the night sky. It had been an interesting night, indeed.
J'erah turned from the viewport, walking around his dark office slowly. As he paced, he took the time to observe the many things that adorned his walls. Pictures, awards, medals, and... He paused at the last object. One of the computer chips to the Centurions. They had discontinued the development of these killing machines some years back, simply because they became a nuisance, and they were unnecessary. Many were also known to go haywire at some points in time, and had nearly killed many Galactic officials in the process. As of now, some of their scientists were developing a more advanced prototype, something that was supposedly going to "astound and amaze" the public. The people of Earth were under the guise that these maniacal robots were there to protect them from invaders, but there was nothing more to it than simple population control, when one of the grunts didn't feel like doing it themselves. All in all, it was probably going to be scrapped, anyhow. Poor Dr. Derhat. J'erah almost felt sorry for the young genius.
A sudden beep from the entryway alerted him to the task at hand. "Lights," he commanded, bringing the overhead lamps into life. "Open."
The door slid open with a brief hiss, and parted to reveal Leara, standing there in all of her seductive beauty. J'erah could not help but give her a good lookover. Perhaps one day, they would have to have some after-hour visits... But right now, he was not about to let pleasure cloud his sense of business and duty. He sensed that she was the same.
"You rang?" She walked into the room confidently, gazing at the walls in a brief but subtle display of respect. "Hmmm... I've never been in your office before."
"Not many have," he replied, moving back towards the viewport. "You should feel honored."
"Oh, I do," she cooed, her voice heavy with masked intent. That was one of the reasons he felt he could trust her. She knew how to cover herself.
"You're probably wondering why I've asked you here."
"Not really," she answered, bringing her eyes to meet his. "It's the saiyajin, isn't it?"
She was good. "Yes," he offered. "For obvious reasons, I have absolutely no trust in Abgar, and I feel that there's no way I could disclose the rest of this to the Counsel."
"Oh? And why wouldn't you think you could trust a group of bumbling idiots?"
"I need your help," he continued, smirking. "Can you do that for me?"
"It depends."
"On?"
"Payment," she responded quickly. "I don't work for free."
"That's all taken care of," J'erah nodded carefully. "Though I would have hoped that you would have done so out of service to the Galactic Empire."
"Ha," she breathed sarcastically. "You and I both know that that's just a dream that we used to have. The Counsel is a joke, as is this station on Earth."
"Yes," he nodded in understanding. "Things aren't quite the same, are they?"
"Well, Tyren grows old," she sighed. "And you know how much Abgar is going to scramble for his throne as soon as he keels over."
"The Counsel wouldn't allow that..."
"Wouldn't they? He has a way with words that allows him to wrap those that he sees fit to serve him around his finger. Hell, they practically eat out of his hand."
"Point," J'erah conceded. "What are you getting at?"
"The only logical replacement would be yourself," Leara stated slyly.
"Hmmm..." the warrior paused. He had never thought of this before. Well, maybe a little, but never as more than a passing fancy that he could entertain. The ruler of the universe... The holder of all power... No. He would get to that later. Right now, they had other matters to get to.
"Sounds good, doesn't it?"
"Yes, I'll have to admit," J'erah acknowledged her proposal. "But we'll discuss that later..."
"Of course," she took a seat in the plush chair before his desk, crossing her legs. "What is it that you want me to do for you?"
He had a few ideas... "How many of your contacts did you keep from your days in the fringe?"
"Plenty. I took care of those that would cause me a problem in the future."
"So you're saying that there are some who owe you favors?"
"Certainly." She cocked an eyebrow towards him. "What are you getting at?"
"I want you to enlist help in finding the saiyajins," he said, turning his back towards her. "And bring them to me."
"Done. And what of the others?"
He faced her again. "Have them killed. Bounty hunters, assassins, whatever you need." He handed her a datacard. "This is the number to a private account to dip into. It is separated into two distinct sections. The larger of the two is for your payment, and the other is for other purposes, whether it be hired help or equipment. Keep this subtle. Encountering some of their protectors in all out combat would be foolish."
"I like the way you work." She took the datacard, turned it over in her hand. "I'll start with some of the smugglers. Rumor has it that a surviving saiyajin used to run weapons for one of my contacts."
"A surviving saiyajin?" J'erah narrowed his gaze. Why hadn't he heard of this before?
"Left Earth before the commotion, decided not to come back." She shrugged. Leara stood, and began to make her way for the metallic door. "I don't know who it was, but we could most certainly find out in no time at all. See what he knows."
"Good," the warrior answered. So they had an angle now, and a trap.
"And what about me? Am I to stay here?" She turned to face him as the door slid open.
He nodded. "I have another plan for the Wayward. And you're going to help me catch them."
She cocked an eyebrow yet again. "Oh? Is this included in my fee?"
"No," he answered. "You're doing this out of service to the Empire."
With that, the door slid shut, leaving him alone to ponder these new developments.
-------
Gokan stepped into the dimly lit hallway, letting the sound of his shoes clamor noisily on the stone floor. What was this place? It seemed all too familiar, like it was a part of him that had long been forgotten. In the darkness ahead, he could make out a shape, huddled low to the ground. The young saiyajin took yet another step forward...
"Can you hear me, little one?"
The whisper rushed past his ear like a harsh wind. It was there and gone in an instant. He lifted his gaze, whipping his vision around to see where the noise had originated from. Perhaps he had imagined it...
"Yes, you can..."
It was closer this time, like it was coming from right next to him... Gokan turned his head to the side to find nothing, only darkness. The sounds of his footstep continued to echo, followed by a choking silence. He held his breath, feeling that any sound he made would disturb the void that seemed to be growing more hostile. Suddenly, a hissed noise caught him off guard, and he nearly fell over from the surprise. What had caused that? The teen craned his neck, opening his senses...
Something was snickering...
"I know something that you don't..."
Gokan swallowed hard, trying to work his vocal chords into making some kind of intelligible product. "Is that so?" He didn't sound nearly as confident as he felt. In fact, he sounded much worse.
Silence... That haunting, eerie silence. Perhaps it had finally left him...
Without warning, a powerful impact connected with his entire body, and he felt like he was free falling, as if the void of darkness around him was thrusting itself in and through his entire being. Wind was whipping past his eardrums, deafening in its speed. The only thing that reminded him of where he was had to have been that his feet were still planted on the stone floor. His arms began to flail about wildly, when a sudden sensation swept over him... A hand. A hand was palming his head... He tried to open his eyes, but could not. The darkness wouldn't allow it.
"Let me show you..."
And with that, a flood of visions began to pour into him... A bright light pierced the dark...
Gokan sat up abruptly, his entire body racked with sweat. Where was he? Fumbling around in the darkness, he fell off what he thought to be a bed. A small bed... Trying to catch his breath, the young saiyajin looked around in a panic, searching for any sign of familiarity. Anything to help him regain his sense of reality...
The son of Gohan stood up slowly, and slammed his head into a hard metallic object. What the... A second glance amidst the pain told him that he had just hit the bottom of a bunk. Vegeta was sleeping there... He turned and looked across the room, seeing Boxers snoozing quietly on the other side. They were in Kale's ship.
The events of the past day all came to him then, reminding him of where they had been and what they had come through. The Galactics. Ubuu. Piccolo. And then, Goten. He had been so excited to find out that he had living relatives in his uncle, and his daughter Pana. While Goten had seemed a little hesitant at first, he eventually warmed into their meeting, filling him in on events of the past, and telling them all stories of the life of a smuggler. Pana had sat there and listened, and talked to Gokan for a good portion of the night, apparently just as glad as he that she had another relative to bond with. After awhile, they had grown tired, and Piccolo directed them to this small quarter so that they could rest...
Gokan sighed, slumping down to the floor, the panic having subsided. The dreams were becoming more vivid, progressing a little further each time. The boy reached into his pocket, retrieving a piece of paper that had scribbled sketches on it. Now, he had another piece to the puzzle... He stood, found some sort of odd writing utensil on a plastic desk, and sat down to fill in more of the gaps. The dream always ended with this picture. Each time, he was able to take in a little more... Soon, he would have it. And what he would do with that information...
Well, he would cross that bridge when he got to it.
-------
The burning destruction that had been left in the wake of the Wayward was finally dying down, leaving only glowing embers of once raging fires as a remnant of their triumph. The orange-red light that had once burned brightly was now just a dull roar, with billowing smoke climbing into the night sky. It had been an interesting night, indeed.
J'erah turned from the viewport, walking around his dark office slowly. As he paced, he took the time to observe the many things that adorned his walls. Pictures, awards, medals, and... He paused at the last object. One of the computer chips to the Centurions. They had discontinued the development of these killing machines some years back, simply because they became a nuisance, and they were unnecessary. Many were also known to go haywire at some points in time, and had nearly killed many Galactic officials in the process. As of now, some of their scientists were developing a more advanced prototype, something that was supposedly going to "astound and amaze" the public. The people of Earth were under the guise that these maniacal robots were there to protect them from invaders, but there was nothing more to it than simple population control, when one of the grunts didn't feel like doing it themselves. All in all, it was probably going to be scrapped, anyhow. Poor Dr. Derhat. J'erah almost felt sorry for the young genius.
A sudden beep from the entryway alerted him to the task at hand. "Lights," he commanded, bringing the overhead lamps into life. "Open."
The door slid open with a brief hiss, and parted to reveal Leara, standing there in all of her seductive beauty. J'erah could not help but give her a good lookover. Perhaps one day, they would have to have some after-hour visits... But right now, he was not about to let pleasure cloud his sense of business and duty. He sensed that she was the same.
"You rang?" She walked into the room confidently, gazing at the walls in a brief but subtle display of respect. "Hmmm... I've never been in your office before."
"Not many have," he replied, moving back towards the viewport. "You should feel honored."
"Oh, I do," she cooed, her voice heavy with masked intent. That was one of the reasons he felt he could trust her. She knew how to cover herself.
"You're probably wondering why I've asked you here."
"Not really," she answered, bringing her eyes to meet his. "It's the saiyajin, isn't it?"
She was good. "Yes," he offered. "For obvious reasons, I have absolutely no trust in Abgar, and I feel that there's no way I could disclose the rest of this to the Counsel."
"Oh? And why wouldn't you think you could trust a group of bumbling idiots?"
"I need your help," he continued, smirking. "Can you do that for me?"
"It depends."
"On?"
"Payment," she responded quickly. "I don't work for free."
"That's all taken care of," J'erah nodded carefully. "Though I would have hoped that you would have done so out of service to the Galactic Empire."
"Ha," she breathed sarcastically. "You and I both know that that's just a dream that we used to have. The Counsel is a joke, as is this station on Earth."
"Yes," he nodded in understanding. "Things aren't quite the same, are they?"
"Well, Tyren grows old," she sighed. "And you know how much Abgar is going to scramble for his throne as soon as he keels over."
"The Counsel wouldn't allow that..."
"Wouldn't they? He has a way with words that allows him to wrap those that he sees fit to serve him around his finger. Hell, they practically eat out of his hand."
"Point," J'erah conceded. "What are you getting at?"
"The only logical replacement would be yourself," Leara stated slyly.
"Hmmm..." the warrior paused. He had never thought of this before. Well, maybe a little, but never as more than a passing fancy that he could entertain. The ruler of the universe... The holder of all power... No. He would get to that later. Right now, they had other matters to get to.
"Sounds good, doesn't it?"
"Yes, I'll have to admit," J'erah acknowledged her proposal. "But we'll discuss that later..."
"Of course," she took a seat in the plush chair before his desk, crossing her legs. "What is it that you want me to do for you?"
He had a few ideas... "How many of your contacts did you keep from your days in the fringe?"
"Plenty. I took care of those that would cause me a problem in the future."
"So you're saying that there are some who owe you favors?"
"Certainly." She cocked an eyebrow towards him. "What are you getting at?"
"I want you to enlist help in finding the saiyajins," he said, turning his back towards her. "And bring them to me."
"Done. And what of the others?"
He faced her again. "Have them killed. Bounty hunters, assassins, whatever you need." He handed her a datacard. "This is the number to a private account to dip into. It is separated into two distinct sections. The larger of the two is for your payment, and the other is for other purposes, whether it be hired help or equipment. Keep this subtle. Encountering some of their protectors in all out combat would be foolish."
"I like the way you work." She took the datacard, turned it over in her hand. "I'll start with some of the smugglers. Rumor has it that a surviving saiyajin used to run weapons for one of my contacts."
"A surviving saiyajin?" J'erah narrowed his gaze. Why hadn't he heard of this before?
"Left Earth before the commotion, decided not to come back." She shrugged. Leara stood, and began to make her way for the metallic door. "I don't know who it was, but we could most certainly find out in no time at all. See what he knows."
"Good," the warrior answered. So they had an angle now, and a trap.
"And what about me? Am I to stay here?" She turned to face him as the door slid open.
He nodded. "I have another plan for the Wayward. And you're going to help me catch them."
She cocked an eyebrow yet again. "Oh? Is this included in my fee?"
"No," he answered. "You're doing this out of service to the Empire."
With that, the door slid shut, leaving him alone to ponder these new developments.