Goten
If Goten didn't count all the times his teal-haired companion had tried to murder him; he'd consider the past few days spent planet-side a nice change of pace. There was food, fresh water and room to move around. It was incredible to feel the wind whipping against his face again. There weren't many opportunities to fly when one was stuck on a ship for days, sometimes months on end.
That small, fleeting joy was quickly extinguished as they dropped onto the cliff the mysterious fortress was perched upon.
A guard tower, identical to the one they'd made camp in, sat halfway down the beaten trail leading into the jungle. Its door was missing, and the windows were shattered. Not a soul in sight.
Ahead of them was a large imposing gate. Or what was left of one? It was little more than a mess of charred, twisted metal now. Looks like someone left in a hurry…
From a distance, it had appeared quite promising, up close, it was anything but.
It was quiet, eerily so. A fetid, sickly odor hung in the air surrounding the fortress.
It smelt like a graveyard.
Like death. Old death.
Goten glanced at Brasha, her features were pinched in an unsettled look as she took in their surroundings. Some primal instinct that beat beneath the surface of his skin urged him to abandon this pursuit; grab the feisty blunette and find somewhere less… ominous to wait their situation out.
They ventured through the remains of the gate in silence.
There was a large landing pad, its stone surface marred with deep cracks and ancient looking scorch marks. It was vacant aside from an overturned land speeder identical to the models they came across in the jungle.
The smooth exterior of the gargantuan building was dull and grey with age and spatters of muck. There was an enormous set of metallic doors facing the landing pad, large enough to accommodate a ship or possibly two. Beside it was a keypad. A hangar. It had to be.
Brasha rushed past him, sprinting across the scorched ground for the keypad. Unsurprisingly, it didn't respond to her touch, and she let out a growl of frustration. "No power."
Goten drew up beside her, scanning the structure. It would be easiest just to blast it down; but there was no sense in causing unnecessary damage if there was a ship waiting inside. But from the look of things, Goten was beginning to doubt that possibility. A thought he kept to himself as he examined the door, discreetly glancing over at the teal-haired Saiyan. While her expression was impassive, her eyes, lined with dark circles, held an almost desperate determination.
Goten fit his fingers into the groove where both doors met and gave it an experimental tug. It gave, just a bit. He wedged his fingers further into the opening; tightening his grip. The metal groaned as he began dragging it back, creating a small gap. "I'll get this side; you take the other."
Brasha nodded, quickly moving to his side, grasping the edge of the opposite door, and giving it a yank.
A loud trill pierced the air and something small, covered in little black scales; possessing what appeared to be two small cone-shaped heads shot through the opening. It skittered right over Brasha's muddied boot. She let out an undignified shriek, and all but launched herself at the dark-haired Saiyan, latching onto his cybernetic arm and clutching it to her chest.
"A little jumpy, Princess?" Goten couldn't help but laugh at her mortified expression.
Her eyes flicked to his, then to his arm still trapped against her body, a look of horror dawning on her face before she shoved away from him. Her cheeks flushed a blistering red, and he couldn't help but needle her a little more.
"That little guy is probably just looking for some dinner. Nothing to fear."
"I wasn't afraid. I just don't like vermin!"
"Uh-huh," He snickered.
"Just focus on the task at hand, please!"
He cleared his throat to stifle his laughter as he set to work on his side. The screech of metal scraping against metal filling the air as they slowly dragged the doors back along their tracks.
Bulla
Bulla pleaded with whatever ethereal being presided over the cosmos that on the other side of these doors, there was a ship waiting to take her back to her brother. Or a comm system. Perhaps some fresh clothes. At the very least, a functioning cleansing stall.
Stars, she missed those. There was dirt and who knew what else caked under her fingernails, on her boots, in her hair. She had never been so dirty in her life.
Bulla held her breath as they finally made their way inside.
The room was dimly lit by sunlight filtering in through the gap. At her side, Goten opened his palm. A small sphere of ki formed illuminating the space, bathing it in blue light.
And what Bulla saw extinguished her last shred of hope.
It was definitely a hangar.
But there wasn't a single ship in sight.
One side was lined with a series of empty charging stations for different all-terrain vehicles, while the other was crammed with various diagnostic and repair tools. It was all blanketed in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs.
Something crunched under Bulla's boot. She glanced down to see a dusty grey square surrounded by a scatter of fine shimmering shards of glass and some other gritty substance. She crouched down, picking up the item and examining it. An old holo-pad with a shattered screen.
Junk. Useless junk.
Goten walked to the console, clearing away the cobwebs and toggling the comm switch. He frowned and shook his head. Comm systems were occasionally equipped with a backup power supply in case of emergency. Not this one.
Because of course not.
There was no telling how long this place had been in this state. There was no chance it was connected to a traditional power grid, she realized. Which meant it likely relied on large power cells. Power cells that were long since drained, if their surroundings were any indication.
"Fuck!" Bulla cursed, chucking the holo-pad aside. She sunk to her knees, raking her hands over her face. She wanted to scream.
The time wasted in that dreadful jungle. For what?
No ships. No comm system.
She was stuck on this planet indefinitely. And there was nothing she could do about it. Their breakfast of lizard meat twisted in her stomach.
"Brasha, I know this is a setback, but you need to stay calm. My uncle will come for us. We're going to be fine."
Why was he trying to comfort her?
"If he comes at all, it'll be for your benefit, not mine." She scoffed bitterly.
"I'll worry about my uncle."
Bulla wanted to ask what he meant by that, but disregarded the notion as she considered the fresh layer of dust that had accumulated on the legs of her flight suit. With each day that passed, the chance of being found decreased significantly.. The thought they might be stuck here indefinitely…
A lump formed in her throat at the dire implications of that possibility as she mentally tallied up the days they'd been marooned on this planet. Her eyes prickled with the beginnings of hot, angry tears.
"Come on, we should have a look around. There might be some supplies that we can use."
Bulla drew in a deep breath, willing the cloying, burning sensation in her eyes to disappear. She didn't want to demonstrate further weakness in front of this male by shedding tears like a child.
Bulla grudgingly got to her feet. Her legs felt unsteady, but she took another deep breath and did her best to conjure up a mask of cool indifference. Without meeting his gaze, she said. "Fine. Lead the way."
The duo ventured into the adjoining corridor. The musty smell in the air seemed to intensify the further along they went.
The first room they came across appeared to be an armory, picked clean except for a satchel containing a small canteen; and what appeared to be two ration bars that were eons past their expiration date. They left those behind. No sense in adding food poisoning to her ever-expanding list of woes.
Further down the hall, they found a large room with several long tables bolted to the floor.
"Looks like the mess hall." Goten said absently as they surveyed the space, illuminating the wall and revealing a window with a small counter space and a set of double doors. Goten cast the light through the window to inspect the state of the kitchen beyond; and something prickled at the back of Bulla's neck as she beheld the rotted, bygone remnants of the last meal prepared in this place. The pantry door was ripped clean off its track, and the floor was littered with the shredded remains of various empty food containers.
Goten let out a sigh of disappointment, adjusting the strap of the satchel on his shoulder. "I doubt there's anything edible in there, if there's anything left at all. We're better off just eating whatever game we can hunt. Our best bet is probably to find a med bay to stock up on medical supplies and check the sleeping quarters for anything useful."
Bulla didn't respond. Food was the last thing on her mind as they moved further into the belly of the fortress. It was so quiet their every breath and footfall seemed to echo off the walls.
Goten led them down a set of stairs. A collapsed passageway greeted them.
"Well, that's a problem."
Before Bulla could get a word out, the ki in Goten's palm flared, and he tossed it at the wreckage. Bulla raised a hand to shield her face as the little ball of ki exploded on impact kicking up a volley of dust and smoke around them. Threads of golden sunlight cut sharply through the haze of dust.
"A little warning would be nice next time." Bulla coughed.
Goten grunted a quick "sorry" over his shoulder as he hopped over a large hunk of debris. Bulla frowned as she floated after him.
Above was a massive hole in the domed roof, the damage extended to the floor, or what remained of it. A gaping chasm occupied the center of the space where the grooves in the stone suggested the framework of an elevator once existed.
"What do you think did that?" Goten wondered aloud with a touch of awe as he gazed at the wreckage.
"Nothing I care to meet if we can avoid it." The blunette replied dryly.
"Goten shrugged, turning his attention back to the opening in the floor below.
Bulla followed his gaze. A fresh wave of unease settled in her stomach, and she knew exactly what he was going to say next.
"If there was a med bay, I'd put my credits on it being down there."
Of course.
Bulla waved a hand at the hole with mock enthusiasm. "After you."
Without another word, Goten dropped into the hole. Bulla took another deep breath before following him down.
The noxious odor that haunted their every step in this place seemed more pungent than ever. They set to work quickly dislodging the various pieces of wreckage; until they found a rectangular opening set in the wall.
The floor was wet, likely from rainwater trickling in from above, and their boots squeaked lightly against the floor. It was also so dark inside Bulla wouldn't have been able to see her hand if she were holding it directly in front of her face. She concentrated a small amount of ki into her right hand to light their way, Goten mirrored the action.
They had definitely stumbled across something; but it definitely wasn't a med bay.
A creeping sensation swept over her skin as her gaze fell upon a row of cages lining the wall. Within several, she spied what looked like skeletal remains with no small amount of pity.
What a horrid way to die, wasting away in a cage...
She forced herself to look away from the sight. There was nothing to be done for them now. A shuffle of movement to her left caught her attention. Goten was inspecting the contents of a table laden with various tools and beakers, the contents of which were mostly long since evaporated.
Goten glanced back at her. Something must have looked amiss in her expression because he asked, "You okay?"
The question pissed her off, because obviously no, she was not okay. Who would be in their current circumstances? Him, apparently, because he seemed completely unperturbed by their situation. A fact that only pissed her off more.
"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" she snapped, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Why couldn't he just mind his own damn business? Why did he have to be such a fucking pest?
"Just checking. Don't want you fainting on me."
"Why don't you focus less on me and more on gathering what we need so we can go? It stinks down here." She turned away from him, swearing as she nearly tripped over a mess of thick coils.
She cast her light across the damp floor, the tangle of coils at her feet trailed away from the cages. She glanced back at Goten. He was busy inspecting a small glass vial. With a sigh she followed the path of the thick metallic threads.
They led her to a circle of cylindrical tanks in the center of the massive laboratory. No, not tanks. Pods.
Wary of what she might find inside, Bulla slowly approached the one closest to her. She tentatively raised her little ball of ki to inspect its contents.
"Brench… Namekian… Neko-Shi… Hey I think this place was some kind of cloning facility!"
Inside, suspended in some strange fluid, was a green humanoid male. He had long, pointed ears and two small antennae dotted his brow, his build was broad and his hands were tipped in claws. Her eyes drifted upward, landing on his dark eyes.
Empty, lifeless eyes that stared back at her through the barrier of liquid and glass.
Icy terror snaked up her spine, coiling in her chest and stilling her breath, and suddenly she was somewhere else entirely. In another place, at another time.
"You think we owe you allegiance because of who your daddy was?" A cruel voice crooned in her ear, raising all the little hairs on her neck.
She wanted to look away but cruel hands gripping her hair and face forced her to watch on. Her body was rooted in place, unwilling or unable to heed her command.
She was vaguely aware of Goten nattering on about something. But her pulse was pounding so loudly in her ears that she couldn't make out whatever it was. That strange lizard meat roiled in her belly again, threatening to make a reappearance.
Unbidden, an image flashed through her mind, more eyes staring into nothing; bodies twisted and bent at unnatural angles, the sharp metallic tang of blood.
She was vaguely aware of the faint squeak of bootfalls against the slickened floor.
"Brasha, are you sure you're okay? You look like you're going to be sick."
"Stop. Asking… stupid… questions."
The scaled features of the male's face melted away; revealing once smooth bronze skin, sharp, angular features now mottled and red, dark eyes bulging; mouth gasping for air through a miasma of red mist against a backdrop of endless black.
Bile rose in her throat, and she couldn't seem to draw in a breath no matter how desperately she tried.
Can't breathe. Can't breathe. Can't breathe.
Gotta get out. Gotta get out.
She tried and failed and tried and failed to drag in a breath, but it was like her lungs were caught in a vice, unable to receive it. Bulla stumbled away from the pod, a hand clutching at her chest. Something snapped beneath her foot and she turned, falling to her knees into a pile of…
Bones.
She was kneeling in a macabre tangle of yellowed skulls and ribcages of various shapes and sizes. Some remains Bulla couldn't even properly identify. As if someone, or something, had ripped the owners apart one by one, piece by piece, stripped away the meat and then thrown the leavings into a heap to rot.
Her vision blurred and her stomach gave a last, violent lurched before Bulla wretched up the meager contents of her stomach.
Bulla was vaguely aware of hands scooping her up as she continued to try and fail to fill her lungs with life giving oxygen. The world wobbled and shook around her until a blinding, brilliant light flooded her vision.
The cloying scent of decay receded, and a familiar voice cut through the haze of terror. "You're okay. We're outside. It's just you and me." Strong hands gently gripped her shoulders. "Slow, deep breaths."
She focused all of her effort on those three small words. Clinging to them like a lifeline anchoring her to reality.
Slowly, one breath at a time.
In and out.
In and out.
In and out.
"Slow deep breaths."
The frenzied pitter patter of her heart slowed to its usual steady beat as the all-consuming terror that held her gradually loosened its grip.
When her vision finally cleared, she found herself staring directly at Goten, kneeling before her amidst a debris strewn ground. His scarred face pinched with what appeared to be, genuine concern.
"I…"
She couldn't believe what she'd just let happen, that he'd seen what she just let happen. All of her carefully curated control evaporated in an instant.
He was her enemy. The catalyst for the colossal, seemingly unending disaster that she was currently existing in.
And now he was speaking these unneeded, unwanted, soft words to her, as if she were some pathetic, mewling baby. She hated this place; she hated herself, and she hated him. She wished she'd never sent out that distress signal and their paths had never crossed.
The hand gripping her right shoulder gave a gentle squeeze. She flung it away, hastily clambering to her feet and turning away from the dark-haired Saiyan.
"I… I'm not going back down there. I refuse."
"I'm not asking you to." He replied quietly, still kneeling on the ground.
"We should just go back to the guard tower… There's… There's nothing here." She said before he could suggest otherwise. There was absolutely no way she could sleep anywhere near this tomb.
Because that's what it was. A tomb.
"Okay, not a problem."