Trunks had arrived a couple of days earlier than planned, but it was for the best, as Freeza, his father and their forces arrived hours before anticipated.
With no trace of Goku yet and not wanting to risk anyone's life, Trunks decides to take charge.
Trunks could feel her mentor -or at least a younger version of him- and her mother's friends approach, then disappear. They'd lowered their ki so as to not be noticed by the aliens, and continued by foot. Bulma was also among them, but her ki couldn't be sensed, with all the different energies coming towards their location being much stronger. Trunks only knew what was going on on their end because Bulma had told her the story once more before departing. The alien ship was in view and had started landing maneuvers, Trunks figured she'd put names and faces on the energies she felt at another time.
And still no trace of Goku. Plan A looked more and more unlikely, great.
Trunks moved swiftly, keeping her own energy suppressed, and crouched as she observed the alien forces exit the ship. Bulma hadn't been able to describe to her what the tyrant looked like, but Gohan actually did, as he recounted the horrible week he'd spent on Namek, at the tender age of five, one night he and Trunks were out foraging. Even without a description, the two aliens clearly acted in charge of the troops and were powerful enough to be identified.
She heard some of the words spoken, carried by the wind, and a second later, mass acknowledgement from the troops. There was no way Trunks would let her unknowing allies, especially her mother, be endangered, let alone the rest of the planet should any of these monsters get to their destination. Certainly Vegeta could take care of the soldiers, but it was too risky, and he and the group could become Freeza's target if they revealed themselves. Son Goku-san should have been here, but he wasn't.
To conduct whatever orders they received, the soldiers flew off, or at least began to. They didn't make it far, their slaughtered limbs promptly falling back on what was now the battle field. The metallic sound of the tip of the sword scratching the rocks underneath drew the remaining soldiers', Freeza's and King Cold's eyes on the earthling that was the cause of the carnage. Trunks faced them with a blank expression, knowing she was as strong as Goku was at the time, if not more so, and while their power was impressive, hers was much more so. For once, it was a one sided fight in her favor.
"You must be Freeza," Trunks affirmed with a cold, wary, unflinching stare.
"Oh, so even in such a remote world, my reputation precedes me! How fortunate," the tyrant mocked with a smile.
"I'm here to kill you," was the restrained response. "You all die right here, right now."
Freeza never responded well to threats, and promptly gave the command. A blast flew towards the 'earthling', but it was deviated, and the owner of the weapon didn't survive long enough to feel his back break on the ship's body. The punch had broken through the fish-like soldier bones with ease. Trunks looked at her bloodied knuckles a brief instant, and a heart-beat later, the rest of the soldiers who had charged met a similar fate. She didn't care to hear Freeza and Cold compliment her strength 'for an earthling'.
"You're next. Listen, and listen well," she smeared the blood of her knuckles with her trembling fingers, "Unlike Son Goku-san, I will show you no mercy. If you attack me, it better be with all your might."
"Son Goku, is that the name of the Saiyan?"
"Yes, papa," Freeza answered his father with malice. "Torturing and ending this planet's inhabitants while waiting for the arrival of the super Saiyan will keep me busy for a couple of hours, and he'll return to a dead homeworld. I'll start with you, since you're so kind to present yourself as the first volunteer dead man. He'll suffer last-"
"A miscalculation," Trunks cut with a confident smile.
"Oh believe me, I am more than capable of purging a planet in such a short period of time."
"Oh, not that," Trunks corrected the information, but didn't care to correct the 'man' part. Good, her cover worked. "I meant the part where you assume there is only one super Saiyan."
They had their chance, but they had decided to talk instead. Their funeral. As she started to build power, conjuring the horrors of her world, eyes locked with her enemies', Trunks traded caution in favor of raw power and brutality. She could almost feel the fear in Freeza's eyes, the memory of his battle with Son Goku on Namek plaguing his mind as her pupils disappeared, her iris changed from blue to teal, her hair rose, and the golden aura surrounded her body.
"It's the same eyes.." Freeza spoke in realization. This earthling wasn't bluffing.
"I told you, you die right here, right now," the growled threat was cold, tired, bored even. Freeza immediately retaliated with an energy blast in her direction which exploded and alerted the others that the battle had begun.
Something in Trunks wanted to feed off the fear she'd caused by transforming, to make them suffer, especially because of the nightmares the tyrant had caused to her mentor, to a father she never knew, both of whom were nearby. The super Saiyan transformation was thirsty for blood and destruction, the longer and more painful, the better. Everyone was approaching, their kis rising in response to the fight that had started, she knew she needed to be fast if she wanted to salvage any hopes of disappearing before they saw her. The smoke on her previous position slowly cleared, revealing her absence, and she heard King Cold's laugh at her apparent demise. If that's coming at full force, and if that is what scared Father and Gohan-san, I'm disappointed. The invasive thought was ignored. She charged her ki and placed her hands in front of her, looking through the diamond formed by her indexes and thumbs, and shot towards the pair of aliens. The pair split and jumped out of the way as they felt the blast coming their way.
This was the opportunity she was looking to create with her attack, and a moment later she fell on King Cold, sword held firmly above her. She sliced straight through him. And again. And a couple of other times, for good measure. Fried bacon strips would be nice… Cold's body was blasted, leaving nothing but dust in the wind and the smell of burnt flesh and armor.
Her teal eyes never left Freeza's red ones all throughout the brutal execution, and the halfling could taste the fear irradiating from her enemy. She charged him with a roar, her sword held back in her right hand, and her left arm front. Freeza's hand met her forearm to stop the charge, but the strength behind was too much, and they crashed down further away from the ship's landing site. The force of impact created one of those all-too-common craters she and Gohan had made when they'd been on the receiving end of a similar assault. Freeza tried to push away, but the struggle was cut short as the metal stabbed right through his neck, impaling on the ground. "Who..?" He gargled in agony.
As the grip on her forearm loosened and life left the tyrant, with wide open eyes, Trunks knew it was over. "With the regards of Prince Vegeta's daughter," she whispered a parting and oh so satisfying message, and cut through and through to separate the head from the body. Trunks leaped off and blasted the remains with her left hand, just in case, and gave the same treatment to the spaceship. Just in case. Destroying things scratched the super Saiyan desire for violence itch, but it was far from enough.
The time traveler contemplated the result of her actions an instant, her mind slowly focusing on things that weren't the immediate threat, doing her best to shut down the desire for more. She took some distance from the field and landed on a slightly higher stone formation in the middle of the smoke and dust winds. Something slipped through the cracks, she was cert-.
"Dad!" she turned to the voice, a small child's voice who was coming running towards her position, clouded by the smoke and dust lifted by the destruction of the Freeza Force mothership.
Ah, that fell through the cracks. Plan A, you'll be missed. Trunks looked at the silhouette of the child coming her way, the child that would become her mentor, confident, closest friend, the child that was running towards him with tears in his eyes and arms wide open, and who leaped against her without restrain. Trunks didn't hear Gohan's cries of joy, how he'd missed his father, but the sudden contact, the kindness and warmth made the transformation vanish from the teen. Gohan realized quickly that this person wasn't his father and jumped off in horror. "You're not my father, mister" he confirmed in a dreadful whisper and took a step back, a sudden realization hitting him; Gohan didn't know this person, and this person was armed and powerful.
Trunks put a knee on the ground to be at the child's level, bloodied sword lowered, and smiled softly. "No, I am sorry, but he will be here soon," she tried to comfort this boy she knew was what- seven? The blood on her hands and weapon weren't exactly reassuring, but her tone and intent rang true.
Their short lived conversation was interrupted by a man's voice. "Get away from him!" She looked up at the rest who landed behind Gohan, thankfully just late enough to have missed the boy's faux-pas 'hug'. Of course Gohan had shot up first when the super Saiyan signature ki erupted. And of course, the short bald man in orange gi with monk markings on his forehead was the one with the bravado to order her to leave Gohan alone. Trunks gave the boy a last glance, then stood and took a step back, pulling a handkerchief from her pant's pocket to wipe off the blood from her weapon and sheath it, making a point to show herself as little intimidating as possible. The fight was over and she was an ally of sorts.
While she was wiping her hands off with the tissue, she took a moment to look at the group of people that were now in clear view. The dust and smoke had settled down. Closest to her was Gohan, in what she recognized was a Freeza soldier armor and the messy "Son" hair, longer than in her memories. Krillin, the bald short man, Goku's closest friend, the man whose death caused the Saiyan's ascension to begin with. Yamcha, sporting a similar gi and a scar, whom Bulma spoke of in contradicting statements. Pu'ar, a shapeshifter cat who flew near them. Piccolo, the tall and imposing green alien with a turban, a cape and a purple gi. Chaozu and Tenshinhan, two former tournament rivals of Goku's, something about different schools, with strange psychic abilities for the former, and grand martial arts prowess and a third eye for the latter. Bulma, with a fresh blue permed mane and curious, lively blue eyes. Her future version never took the time to take care of her hair, Trunks hoped this version would never grow stress white hairs as her own mother did. With that hair, Bulma was as tall as Trunks, and the time traveler had to repress a smile at the observation. And finally, the ball of aggressivity sporting civilian clothes (she'd seen that pink shirt before…). Spiky, flame-like hair, a scowl she often saw in the mirror, tense muscles. Without his hair, he was shorter than her. They all looked back at Trunks, and saw a teenager with light, short curtain unkept lavender hair, wary and jaded blue eyes, a capsule corp denim jacket perhaps a size too big, thick black tank top, gray baggy pants with a few pockets and muted yellow flat boots. Calloused hands and a fairly lean but fit physique, and the sword on her back completed the arguably less-than-fashionable look.
"Son Goku-san will be arriving in a couple of hours, according to my intel," she gestured vaguely at the ship's remains to indicate that it was the source of her information, and put the stained tissue back into her pocket. She then fixed her jacket, dusted off and tried her best to contain her nerves. She checked her watch to confirm the time frame. "Three hours or so," she added and pulled a capsule holder from her jacket pocket, taking one and tossing it. Yamcha warned his friends about something dangerous being used, but once the poof cleared, the mini-fridge Trunks had originally packed for the trip threatened no one. She knelt to it, opened it and grabbed a can, then moved aside.
"Please help yourselves, if you intend on waiting here with me," she invited with as much warmth as she could, and opened her cold coffee. It was the middle of august, after all. Bulma accepted the offer, approaching and commenting on the model. Gohan accepted as well, and picked a fruit juice he'd never seen before. Krillin gave in to the thirst seeing Bulma and Gohan state how delicious the drinks were. Trunks' eyes lingered on the young versions of her mother and mentor while they took their drink and enjoyed it.
"Have we met before? You look familiar," Bulma commented with a pointed look to the jacket, and Trunks slightly shook her head to deny. "We haven't, this was a gift," she left it at that, but of course, one question led to another.
"So.. you know my father, mister?" Gohan was such an innocent child, Trunks made a little negative sound, "I only heard a lot about him," she briefly clarified. "And you were a super Saiyan when you killed Freeza and the other big one, right?" an innocent but perceptive and straight to the point child. Plan B was on the chopping blocks. Or was it Plan C?
"I was," Trunks confirmed but gave no explanation.
"Stop pretending!" Vegeta of course loathed the idea of another super Saiyan that wasn't him, as expected, and especially one he didn't know about. "Only four of us survived the destruction of our planet, and out of those, two are dead. Kakarot, myself, and this halfbreed here are the last with our blood. You can't be a Saiyan. Who are you? And where did you get that power?"
Trunks took a minute, she wouldn't dare interrupting the man. Vegeta may not have been done with his questions, and despite his rough words, she could see others wanted to hear an answer. So she braced herself.
"I'm afraid I cannot disclose this information, yet. My apologies, Vegeta-san." She added, tilting her head to emphasize the apology. Not that it would sooth the past version of her father, who was unfazed by her knowledge of his name. He was going to press the issue, of course.
"The hell you are, all Saiyans have black hair and eyes," the prince growled. There was nothing she could say that wouldn't come out as a blatant lie, and everyone would pick up on it. She broke eye contact and looked away, unable to comment.
"But he did transform and won easily," Gohan defended when Trunks didn't respond. The others nodded. That mystery would remain a secret as long as it could.
"I'm calling the brat a liar, not a weakling," Vegeta spat out with disdain. Bulma changed the topic to one that's less contentious, or so she hoped.
"So who are you, actually, what's your name? You look pretty young, too." Trunks felt color blush her cheeks, the same colors she had when her mother interrogated her on her whereabouts when she sneaked out at night. Her fingers trembled a little, so she gripped her can slightly more firmly.
"I cannot give you my name, Bulma-san, but I-," she paused for an instant to consider the time flow at home instead of the actual date, and added with a warmer smile, a façade of sorts to sooth everyone's curiosity, a truth that could be shared without consequences. "I will be turning seventeen in a few weeks." Her age didn't matter in the grand scheme of things, considering her circumstances.
"Even your name's a secret?" Yamcha asked incredulously, but Bulma just shooed him off.
"Cut the kid some slack Yamcha, he just saved us all and the planet, let him be secretive if he wants, stop putting him in the spotlight like that," and she winked at Trunks with mischief and familiarity. Trunks was thankful for the help, but it wasn't worded. Too much social activity in too little time, and the fight hadn't been satisfying. Darkness was clawing at her soul.
Tenshinhan and Chaozu also commented on the weirdness of keeping a simple thing such as a name a secret, especially as the teenager seemed to know who they were. Trunks was reassured. If her mentor and mother didn't see through the binding and body language, everyone else would follow and her presence at this time wouldn't disrupt much of anything. Everyone went on to catch up with each other; it seemed some of them hadn't seen each other in a few months. She dropped herself on a rock with a sigh of relief, to wait for Son Goku's arrival. Once sitting, she patted her pockets looking for something and idly listening to what she could hear. Gohan asking Piccolo why he hadn't joined the Namekians, the mention of training and the time elapsed, Chaozu asking if he could take a drink as well, to which Trunks said "please do so, please help yourself", glancing at the others so they knew they didn't need to ask.
Trunks couldn't help but look at the strange team of fighters more or less surrounding her, taking note of their closeness and interactions. She'd heard so many distorted stories from her mother and her mentor. Vegeta, like her, sat on a rock, and stared daggers through her. And like her, he stayed alone. She spared him a few curious glances. Mother did say he looked lonely. Vegeta barked something about his appearance not being something interesting to look at, as clearly Trunks already knew who he was. Trunks promptly looked away, apologized and finished her drink. Whatever she was looking for in her pockets was promptly forgotten about.
Piccolo had his back turned to the group and was surveying the horizon and the battle field instead; he'd find out more about this kid from what the combat than he could learn from talking. Gohan left him after their brief chat and instead approached the strange teenager.