Barracks

Sophie: Yup, I know what you mean about the training action, tension, and the mystery of Goten’s power, etc. Recently we had a different type of action. Goten and Trunks have so many things to deal with, not to mention, now they have dragged Reyn into it all. Oh, so much drama awaits us XD

Yaoi_Angel: Trunks is being unreasonable. I’m afraid that he lacks self-respect. He also believes that everything is allowed to him as long as he believes that Goten likes/loves him in return. A self-proclaimed love-knight, haha Gah, Trunks actually annoys me with his arrogance. Oh well XD


Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z – it belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I am not making any money from writing it.
Warnings: Alternate Universe. Yaoi (male x male). Goten x Trunks and vice versa. Other pairings.
A/N: thanks for my friend White_Youkai for the idea with the cockbook.

Barracks

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by quetreofdoom

Part 59

Goten shifted lightly, and, expectantly, Reyn turned to look at the bed. The younger male slept on. Reyn approached the bed and shook him again, but that gave no results. For the last six hours, Goten hadn’t reacted to any attempts to rouse him.

They had taken a shower in turns, then had gone through their supplies and had a satisfying breakfast. At around one o’clock, Reyn had visited the bathroom, and when he returned, Goten was already asleep on the bed with his uniform on. Now it was almost seven in the evening, and the younger third-class showed no intention of waking up.

At first glance, it didn’t seem that there was something wrong with Goten: his breathing was deep and regular, his skin color looked healthy, his body temperature seemed to be normal. It was exactly the same as Reyn remembered it happening on Starcut – Goten just slept and was completely oblivious of his surroundings.

Reyn wasn’t certain what he was supposed to do. As far as he remembered, Tamahi hadn’t been able to help Goten; the doctor had just let him sleep. When Goten had finally woken up, he had woken up on his own, and there had been no damage. Yet, the flight officer could not help but feel anxious.

ooOoOoOoo

Something touched Goten’s face, and he hummed in response to the soft caress. He was still half-asleep, teetering between falling back into a deep sleep and rousing from it. Then something cold wrapped around his right wrist and he shivered at the unpleasant feeling it caused. He opened his eyes to see shadows drifting in the dark room. Completely disoriented, he tried to understand where he was or what was happening, then something fluffy pressed against his face.

Was that a pillow?

It took him a few seconds to understand that someone was trying to murder him. He tried to push the pillow off his face, but his arms were restrained. Kicking out gave no result either as weights suddenly pushed his legs down. The lack of oxygen was already burning his lungs, but when he tried to power up, instead of gathering and increasing, his ki kept dissipating as soon as it rose up to a certain point.

That was how ki-cuffs worked.

Goten continued struggling, his movements more and more desperate until they turned into spasmodic seizures. His lungs were on fire. He was already faint. It was a horrible way to die but he wasn’t really aware that he was dying, the adrenaline and panic overruling his brain and body.

His last disjointed thought was that this was probably exactly how Gohan had died.

Goten lay in the bed, unmoving, his glassy eyes open, his heart still, body cooling.

“How long are you going to lie there?”

The third-class turned his head to the side, towards the familiar voice. It was Gohan. No, it was the imposter with his painted-on face and his transparent body. The imposter was glowing in the completely dark room. None of them were supposed to be here – Goten could tell that instinctively. The third-class gave the imposter a long, confused look, then turned his head back and continued staring up into the darkness. They were not supposed to be here.

Wasn’t he dead?

Obviously, he wasn’t. Tentatively, Goten moved his hands. The room went bright suddenly, the darkness dissipating in a flash. Blinking, Goten rolled out of the bed quickly and looked around. There were four male Saiyans in the room. All of them were elites, and Goten knew two of them: Berada and Ealdira. He had barely talked to Berada, who, under the prince’s orders, had seen him to the headquarters of the National Air Force. He remembered Ealdira much better from his visit to the officer school – he used to be the prince’s mentor and rumor had it that they shared a bed.

There was his body lying on the bed. He was covered up to his chest by a duvet. The pillow was back under his head and one of the unnamed elites was taking the ki-cuff off his limp wrist. Fascinated, Goten stared at his dead body – he was unfamiliar with afterlife or ghosts in general. He didn’t believe in them. Not exactly, at least.

Goten’s eyes left his body and took in the rest of the room. He could hear the Saiyans talking, arguing about something, but his mind failed to grasp what it was about. The room was quite large, the furniture wooden. A big mirror hung on the wall near the door while one of the other walls was taken up by a gigantic TV screen. Very expensive. There was also an open window with softly moving curtains at each side. Since it was dark outside, and the lights in the room were on, Goten wasn’t able to see out of it. The air coming from outside smelled of rain and trees, though. It was a heavenly combination, and Goten inhaled deeper.

“You can’t avoid this one.”

Goten turned to the imposter. “What do you mean?”

The imposter’s transparent hand motioned at the dead body on the bed. “This will happen one way or another.”

Frowning, Goten stared at his body. “So you mean I’ll die no matter what?”

The imposter shrugged. “This is absolute – you can’t escape this. Whether you die or not… No matter which reality you take, all of them come down to this.”

“You aren’t making much sense.”

The imposter shook his head, his face blurring even more. “You can feel it too, can’t you?”

Quietly, Goten stared at his body on the bed. He nodded. “So just like that? In my sleep?”

“Yes.”

The third-class turned to the imposter. “Was it the same for Gohan? Did he know how he was going to die?”

“Yes.”

“And he couldn’t do anything?” The imposter was quiet and Goten grunted impatiently. “Tell me!”

“He could and he almost did but it wasn’t enough.”

“Same is for me, isn’t it?”

“Same was for your grandfather.”

Surprised, Goten frowned. He suddenly whirled around, throwing his arms apart. “What is this? Why is this?” he demanded in a growl.

The imposter spread his arms apart as well. “This is a reality, one of them. Why…?” He seemed to be confused for a moment. “This is our contract. Don’t you remember?”

Goten laughed, then he was suddenly in front of the imposter, grabbing him. His hands went right through the invisible body. “Fuck!” Goten growled, enraged. He tried to hit the blurry shape in front of him, but it was in vain. “Do you think I’d be asking if I remembered?!” he yelled. “Stop fucking around!”

“Goten?”

“Not now, goddamnit!”

“Goten, wake up finally!”

“Not now!”

With a gasp, Goten sat up in the bed. He was holding his palm over his burning left cheek. “Why did you wake me up?!” he demanded, glaring at a wide-eyed Reyn. “I almost…” confused, Goten trailed off. “I almost…” His brain squeaked in effort, trying to decipher the jumble of information that he knew was very important but suddenly made no sense. “I almost…”

Bewildered, Goten gave the other third-class a helpless look. Reyn just shook his head at him. The flight officer stood up and went to the bathroom to get a cup of water. When he returned, Goten was still in the bed, rubbing his left cheek; Reyn had hit him hard.

“Was it one of those?” Reyn asked, holding out the drinking cup for the other third-class.

Nodding, Goten grabbed at it greedily. Closing his eyes, he sipped at the water and swallowed. With recent irregular eating patterns, sleep, and sickness, he was dehydrated and the lukewarm tap water felt like it was the nectar of the gods. In greedy gulps, he emptied the cup and held it back out for Reyn.

“More?” he asked.

When Goten nodded, the flight officer took it and went for a refill. He thought that they needed to go to the cafeteria before it was closed and get something warm and worthwhile to eat instead of all the dried, smoked, or processed food that they had stocked up on. Yet, Goten seemed to abhor the local cuisine.

“Do you remember the dream?” Reyn asked, watching Goten finish up the second cup. It was probably pointless to ask, though. From the confusion he had seen on Goten’s face earlier, he could guess that the third-class didn’t remember a thing.

“Someone killed me in my sleep,” Goten muttered, pushing the empty cup back into Reyn’s hands.

“Say what?” Reyn frowned at the younger man. “Did you see who did it?”

Goten exhaled and lay down. “I saw their faces but I can’t remember who they were. I think I know them, though.”

“How many were there of them? Who?”

Goten’s eyes darkened unpleasantly. “I think three or four. I said I can’t remember who. They used a damn pillow and a ki-cuff. Fucking ridiculous.”

Thinking, Reyn sat down on the bed next to Goten. “Where did it happen?”

At first, it seemed that Goten wouldn’t remember, then his face smoothed out. “Some kind of a luxurious room. It smelled like rain.”

The flight officer gave him a confused look. “Rain?”

Goten nodded. It meant that it was going to happen on some kind of a planet instead of a spaceship. Rain was quite a rare occurrence on most planets.

“Any idea when?”

Goten shook his head. “No.”

Further attempts to extract something else from Goten’s memory proved to be futile and it was decided that the best course of action right now was to have dinner. Goten agreed with Reyn’s idea concerning warm food instantly. He dressed and, leaving Mr. Elite slumbering on their bed, they left for the cafeteria.

The cat, as far as either of them could tell, was perfectly fine. He seemed to have gotten used to them as well, especially, for some reason, to Reyn. Twice, Mr. Elite had tried to get outside the hotel room but meowing at the top of his lungs and scratching the door only earned him a flying boot aimed at his back. Mr. Elite got the hint quickly and contented himself with sleeping on one of the beds or in the warm bathroom.

It was ten o’clock in the evening and the cafeteria was closed. No surprise there. Reyn led Goten to the McDonalds that he had visited with Kakarott. They ordered the food, picked it up, and carried their trays to one of the free tables in the middle of the dining hall. There weren’t many customers in the hall. At first glance, those who were present were either passengers waiting for their late-hour flights, or some kind of officers. There was also a very young Human couple sitting near the door, oblivious of their surroundings. They were holding hands and drinking soda from one large cup while using two straws.

Discreetly, Reyn pointed them out for Goten, then motioned at his cup. “Want to share?”

Goten looked at the couple, then at Reyn’s mug. “Go to hell. That’s freaking embarrassing!”

Reyn chuckled. “Yeah,” he agreed. Trying not to shake anything out of it, he picked his burger up and gave it an evaluating look. It was large and smelled of strange synthetic material. “How do you eat this?” he wondered, turning it this way and that. “All the vegetables are just going to fall out of it.”

“Prhrmhm?”

The flight officer raised his head to look at Goten, who had already chowed down most of his burger. The table in front of him was strewn with drips of sauce, half-bitten pieces of cucumber, and onions.

“Well, you’ve always been a pig,” Reyn concluded, concentrating back on his burger. He wasn’t going to buy this again. At least they could have given him a knife to cut it into smaller pieces.

“Yrmh now hrim?”

Chewing, Reyn gave Goten a questioning look. With his free hand, the other third-class was pointing at something on his left. The flight-officer followed the gesture to meet a curious stare. It was a Leiador. Not one he could remember, though. The Leiador gave him an acknowledging nod and Reyn found himself nodding as well to return the respect shown. He and Goten were famous now.

“Huh,” Reyn muttered uncomfortably and took another bite of his burger. In fact, he had been a little surprised when no one bothered them in their hotel room. Keeping in mind how insistent the chaotic swarm of reporters had been, it was even a little bit mysterious. Unless, something much more interesting had happened, of which neither he nor Goten was aware. Reyn also had another theory explaining the phenomenon – the prince’s bodyguards. It was probably farfetched but he suspected that it was the prince who had gotten rid of the reporters in the hotel. The thought annoyed Reyn.

“How did the conference go?” Goten asked, licking his fingers. Then he spotted the napkins on the tray and took them.

“Oh, the conference,” Reyn muttered. He had completely forgotten about it. “I have no idea. I was kinda busy worrying about your regular hibernation.” Right, the reporters might have gone to hunt after information from the conference.

“Hmm…” Goten mumbled, reaching out for his soda. “Think we could ask Raidri or Areno?”

“They creep me out.”

Goten rolled his eyes at his cup of soda. “It’s not their fault they think we’re elites,” he said after taking a few sips through the straw. “Why the hell can’t they drink it normally?” he wondered, removing the lid. “It’s not like we’ve got zero gravity in here.”

Reyn shrugged. He pointed at the lovey-dovey couple at the door again. “Humans,” he said in a self-explanatory manner.

ooOoOoOoo

Something fell on Reyn and he woke up with a start. Alert, he found himself staring at Mr. Elite on his lap.

“Goddamn you,” Reyn grunted, lying down again. He exhaled then took a deep breath, trying to calm down his drumming heart. “How could Monteira stand you?” He turned his head to the side to see Goten still peacefully asleep next to him. They had a free bed now, two of them, in fact, including the air mattress, but, after yesterday’s quickie, just fell asleep in one. That was for the best, though, since Goten’s dream was unnerving both of them.

The cat meowed and Reyn turned to him again. “Food, right?” With a discontent grunt, the flight officer rolled out of the bed. After searching the floor, he finally discovered his underwear under the bed. He put it on and went to the wardrobe to find Mr. Elite something to eat.

Reyn took a long, thorough shower filled with uneasy thoughts about their next course of action. Yet, when he returned to the room, he still had no solution. Despite all their worries in the past, they hadn’t been arrested, hadn’t been court-martialed, hadn’t been punished in any way. They received their medals, and everyone in the military forgot about them. It was quite incredible.

Reyn wanted to return to Starcut, but the problem was that he didn’t know how to do that. Even if he was reluctant, he would probably have to ask his father to find out the ship’s route and its possible stops. After that, they would have to come up with a plan on how to reach it.

Despite Reyn’s worries, Goten was already up and about when he left the bathroom. The younger man was lively, ransacking the wardrobe, scavenging for food suitable to his taste.

“Finally!” Goten exclaimed at the sight of Reyn. He rushed to occupy the bathroom.

“Feel alright?” Reyn asked when Goten returned.

“You didn’t ask me that yesterday,” Goten told him, grinning cheekily.

Reyn rolled his eyes. “Obviously, I was too busy getting into your pants.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Goten assured him. “Actually, I haven’t felt this good in awhile.”

The flight officer gave the other man an evaluating look. Indeed, Goten looked well-rested and was in such high spirits that Reyn suddenly felt like landing a super fast kick to the other third-class’s head; the bastard was an inborn actor. As if the prince never happened. Reyn had to agree though, that, currently, they had even more pressing matters than the unpredictable royalty to handle.

“Good for you,” Reyn spat. “Let’s have breakfast and then try to figure out how to return to Starcut.”

Goten gave Reyn a look but didn’t say anything. Instead, just like the flight officer had suggested, he went to the wardrobe and started searching through the bags of food.

A few minutes later, the third-classes were sitting on the air mattress, chewing at chicken legs, the bag of food lying between them on the floor. The cat jumped onto the mattress, settled next to Reyn, and started cleaning his asshole.

“He likes me better than you,” Reyn said smugly around the chicken bone. He tore a little piece of meat off the bone and held it above the cat’s head.

Goten rolled his eyes. “No surprises there – you feed him while I give him baths.”

“Huh, that’s true,” Reyn agreed, watching Mr. Elite react to the smell. The meat was gone in a blink. “He’s quite simpleminded.”

“It’s a freaking pet, you can’t expect him to be smart.”

“True. I don’t even expect you to be smart.”

Goten gave him the finger. Both of them turned to the door at the loud knock, then looked at each other.

“You expecting anyone?” Goten asked.

“Nope.”

“Who’s that?” Goten shouted towards the door while looking around, searching for something to wipe his greasy fingers on.

“Daimara Backeri. I’m bringing orders for Bardock and Dueri.”

“Huh…” Goten muttered softly, looking at Reyn. The name sounded Saiyan, but the language had quite a heavy accent. “You know anything about that?”

“No.”

When the visitor stepped into the room, it became clear why he didn’t give his full title: he belonged to the Royal Guards. Working as an errand boy probably wasn’t included among his favorite pastimes.

“Umm…” Goten muttered, staring at the exclusive armor.

“You Goten Bardock?” the elite asked, holding out an envelope for him. He looked around the room: it was quite messy and reeked of sex, stale food, and some kind of an animal.

Goten nodded. “Yes, sir.” He took the envelope and opened it nervously, pulling out a piece of paper. He unfolded it and held it out so that he and Reyn could read it.

DEPARTMENT OF NATIONAL SECURITY
Headquarters, Interstellar Division
Vegeta-sei, Velora 3568-25

86 Moridia, Year 7235
REASSIGNMENT 214

Goten Bardock (officer No. unknown) and Reyn Dueri (officer No. 5378124) are released from their current assignment in the Renera section (KIF 693, codename Starcut 147) and reassigned to active duty in the Royal Division for the period of time shown below. You will proceed from your current location to report for duty on the date shown below.

Report to: Harada Lorimara, Head of the Royal Division
Reporting date: 89 Moridia, Year 7235
Attached to: Royal Division, Velora 2563-45, Vegeta-sei
Period: unknown
Purpose: active duty
Additional instructions: unknown

FOR MILITARY USE
Classification: classified
Authority: Harada Lorimara (officer No. 4752364)

“That fucking bastard!” was all Reyn was able to say after reading the orders. “This is in the fucking Royal Palace!”

Reyn remembered the royal guard’s presence only when the guard sent him flying. The sudden punch to his head stunned the flight officer so much that he didn’t even think of summoning his ki and his back hit the wardrobe painfully.

The next second, the royal guard was slammed into and through the door. Then, together with the door, he whooshed through the corridor and hit the wall across the hallway. The door burst into pieces.

“I’ll rip your head off if you do something like that again,” Goten assured the elite. He turned to Reyn. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Reyn said, getting up from the floor. “The fucking wardrobe broke.”

Goten eyed the mutilated wardrobe – the side that Reyn had crashed into was split in half, now mostly hanging. The door had been unhinged and had fallen onto the bed near the window.

“I doubt it costs a lot,” Goten muttered. “Ah,” he said, turning to the hole where the door used to be. “Shit.” One of the doors down the corridor opened a crack but, at the sight of a hole and a staggering Saiyan amidst chunks of wood, it was shut again. The elite was getting to his feet and, pissed, Goten walked up to him. “You’re going to pay for that damned wardrobe and this fucking door, got it?”

“Fuck you!”

Goten’s knee went through the armor and into his gut, making him double over in pain. The elite retched, saliva flooding his mouth.

“I didn’t quite catch that,” Goten hissed. “You fucking elites, you think everything’s allowed to you? I’m gonna fuck you up so bad that…”

“The fucking cat is about to run away!”

“Ah, fuck it!” Goten growled, turning around. Indeed, Mr. Elite was already quickly making his way down the corridor, Reyn chasing him. “Screw it all!” Goten spat, slamming the guard into the wall one more time for good measure. He dropped the elite and ran after Reyn and the cat.

“Power down, you idiot!” the flight officer shouted when Goten whooshed past him. “It’ll explo-”

Except it didn’t. Goten suddenly powered down and grabbed the cat. Wearing an insulted look, he turned around. “I did learn something, you know.”

Reyn’s eyebrows rose. “You’re bleeding, you idiot.”

“Huh?” Goten lowered his head to see the cat’s claws embedded into his left arm. Blood was dripping onto the carpet. The sight of his blood suddenly dissipated the anesthesia that had been provided by the adrenaline. “That fucking hurts!” the third-class yelled. “Get it off me!”

Reyn grabbed the cat by the scruff of the neck and, after some struggle, managed to dislodge him from Goten’s arm without tearing out chunks of his flesh. Goten glared at the cat.

The silence caused two more heads to appear in the doorways, but the sight of three squabbling Saiyans and a cat seemed not to agree with the Humans and they showed no desire to interfere with whatever was happening. Undisturbed, the third-classes returned to their room and Reyn shut the cat in the bathroom while Goten grabbed a sheet off the free bed, tore a good chunk off, and clumsily wrapped it around his arm. The royal guard was still leaning against the wall where Goten had left him. Reyn was of the opinion that the elite was unwittingly waiting for a kick in the nuts that Reyn felt more and more compelled to give him with every passing second.

“Why are you still here?” Goten asked, mirroring Reyn’s thoughts. He wondered if the elite was really considering reimbursing the damage to the hotel – that would be a first.

The royal guard glared back at them. “I am to see you reach your destination safely.”

The third-classes shared a look, then Goten bent down to retrieve the call-up papers off the carpet where he had tossed them when he punched the elite. They scanned the orders again.

“It doesn’t say anything about you,” Reyn concluded quickly.

“I wouldn’t know anything about what it says – it’s classified,” the elite said. “I have, however, received the prince’s personal orders.”

“Which prince would that be?” Goten asked.

“Do you even need to ask?” Reyn hissed in disbelief.

“Trunks Vegeta’s,” the guard said.

“We won’t go,” Reyn said suddenly, his voice strangely calm. He took the papers from Goten and shoved them into the elite’s hands. “Here, take them back.”

“It’s an order, Reyn. We can’t ignore orders.”

Reyn’s eyes snapped to the younger man’s face. “An order for what?” he laughed unpleasantly. “The nerve of that bastard… What fucking order? What’s he gonna do? Arrest us? Surely he…” Reyn fell silent at the look on Goten’s face. “Oh yeah, the bastard would! That’s exactly what he wants, isn’t it?”

His mind reeling, Goten scratched his cheek awkwardly. “I suspect whether we go or not won’t make a difference in the long run, but by not going we’ll give him an opportunity to interfere even more.”

“That fucking bastard!” Reyn cursed again. “I can’t fucking believe this!”

It took the royal guard all his restraint not to hit the flight officer again. The repetitive insults against royalty and the disregard of common courtesy was making his hands itch and the only reason he hadn’t punched the loud-mouthed man was the powerful youngster at his side.

Goten wondered where the prince’s plans about Earth had gone. This was quite a jump from what he had heard last time. He couldn’t believe the prince was doing this. He had suspected it hadn’t been over with that one spat between them, but for it to take such a turn… What the hell was wrong with the man? Did he even realize what he was doing?

Goten took the letter from the elite’s hands again. “So you’re supposed to see us off?”

“No, I am supposed to make sure you reach your destination safely. Where is it that I have to see you to?”

Goten snickered. The prince was making sure there were no more surprises. Well, since there had been many of those in their brief history, it was no wonder. He held up the call-up papers for the elite to read.

The guard let out a groan. “You’ve gotta be kidding me…”

Goten gave him a mirthless grin. “Pleased to meet you, dear colleague.”

Reyn patted the guard on his shoulder in a not exactly friendly manner. “Let’s get along, shall we?”

ooOoOoOoo

“So how about you make restitution for the door and the wardrobe?” Goten asked the royal guard. The third-class’s wide eyes were still trying to comprehend the bill that he had been presented with. Disbelieving, he raised his eyebrows at the receptionist, who kept smiling politely but, in fact, appeared to be quite nervous. Goten concentrated back on the bill.

Daimara offered Goten’s back a well-measured glare. “Yeah, if you buy me new armor.”

Goten’s eyes left the frightening bill and set on the armor. It was bent inwards and now had a hole in its lower abdomen. One of these armors probably cost the same as a small house somewhere on the outskirts of Velora. “On the other hand,” the third-class said, “I’d rather just pay for the door and the wardrobe.”

The elite snickered. “Thought so.”

With a sigh, Goten lifted his suitcase and set it onto the front desk. He unclasped and opened it. He pushed the cookbook and the uniform aside to retrieve a small bag that was filled with cash. He shook the credits out onto the desk, making them land in a heap.

The receptionist’s face was flooded with relief. Together with Goten, he started counting the money.

After settling the bill, Goten was left with ninety-seven credits. That couldn’t even buy him a ticket to the capital. He still had the necklace and the ring from the rescue mission that he had stashed deep under the lining of his suitcase but those were an emergency asset not to be used lightly. Goten’s shoulders hunched at the unfairness of it all and he sat down on the sofa to wait for Reyn to come down from their room.

The flight officer soon appeared carrying his suitcase in one hand and the box with the cat in the other. They weren’t certain about the animal – Almanda had easily smuggled it to Bruminan but getting it back into a spaceship was, very likely, going to be impossible. Mr. Elite wasn’t overly joyous about them traveling again either, throwing annoyed stares this way and that through the grating on the box.

“Do you really need it?” Daimara wondered, pointing at the cat.

“Absolutely not,” Goten said. “But we’ve taken it with us by accident and now we have to somehow return it to the owner.”

The elite grunted. “Tough one.”

They took their belongings and set off towards the launch pad. They had checked with the receptionist and had been assured that flights for Vegeta-sei were scheduled twice a day. They had missed the morning flight but there was still one hour until the next departure. They also hoped that, due to the conference, there would be many more ships returning to Vegeta-sei than usual, and they expected that the orders they carried would allow them to get onto one of those ships.

The royal guard didn’t look happy about being made to carry two large bags stuffed with food supplies, but didn’t voice his discontentment in any way. The thought of leaving the food behind had never crossed either Reyn’s or Goten’s mind – wasting food was inconceivable in war time. In general, wasting food was never a good idea.

The wide underground hall branched out into five corridors and they took the left hall, turning towards the docks. There was a hobo just around the corner and both third-classes stopped at the sight of what was supposedly a Human covered in thick layers of clothing. The stench was so strong that Goten couldn’t believe at first that all of it could come from this humanoid form. Shit and piss and whatnot.

“Spare a credit?”

“Get lost before I blast your sorry ass to dust!” Daimara growled at him, his tail around his waist puffing out in obvious disgust.

It wasn’t cold, but the bundled up creature was wearing a coat and thick trousers with stains of unknown origin. The hobo’s hand rose into the air as if to grasp at Reyn’s boot but he never did, the hand hovering just next to it while the Saiyans were passing him.

Daimara snorted again. “At least he remembers not to do that with Saiyans. Last time he touched one, he found himself flying into the fountain over there,” he said, raising his hand to point at the small fountain in the middle of the hallway that was turned into a waiting hall with a domed skyroof.

“They touched him?” Goten asked, incredulous; the revolting smell was still haunting him even though they were about ten meters away from the creature.

The elite shook his head. “You insane? He just kicked that fucker all the way there.”

Goten looked at his boots. “Eww. Even cat shit is better than that.”

“Why are they allowed in here?”

Daimara rolled his eyes. “Humans. Something about it being everyone’s right to go where they want. At least they cleared them out of here for the conference.”

“How about my right to breathe clean air?” Goten wondered. “Or my right not to catch the bugs that thing obviously has?”

“You don’t have any rights,” Reyn elaborated to the other third-class. “Neither do I, in fact.”

Daimara grunted. “Should be against the law to turn oneself into that pile of shit.”

They had just reached launch pads four, five, and six and the elite went towards launch pad six. There was an Imperial Destroyer docked there. Reyn and Goten shared a look but followed Daimara. There were five people standing guard at the ship but one look at the royal guard’s ID and a few words from the elite and they were allowed to pass.

“You wait here until I have a word with the captain,” the elite said, going up the lowered boarding dock.

Goten cleared his throat.

“Hey!” Reyn called after the guard.

Daimara turned around and saw them staring at the bags he was carrying. He rolled his eyes. He would have tossed the bags back to them, but it was unwise to get on their bad side. He lowered them onto the ramp and proceeded into the cargo hold.

Goten was staring at the Imperial Destroyer in awe. It was the largest ship he had ever laid his eyes on. Imperial Destroyers were incredibly fast and true to their name, carrying enough power to destroy a small planet. The problem with them was that their large size didn’t allow for easy maneuvering. Their defense shields, though, could withstand days of direct attacks.

“Can you pilot it?” Goten wondered, stepping back from the ship to be able to take it in better.

Reyn shook his head. “No, I never got around to passing the required tests. Its main computers have different software than I’m used to. I suppose, if the need arose and we were in open space, I could learn by trial and error easily.”

Goten gave him a dubious look but didn’t say anything. Leaving Reyn to stand and guard the bags, he ran back a little to see the spaceship better, then started circling it from his left. The destroyer was nearly a third the size of his old school. The third-class had nearly made the full circle when he heard Reyn call him. Goten powered up and rose above the ship to land near Reyn and Daimara.

“We are good to go,” the royal guard informed him. “It is going to reach Vegeta-sei on the 89th.”

“Wow,” Goten exclaimed happily, “we might even have two spare minutes to ourselves before we need to report! Amazing! I want to kill the bastard! The cat?” he asked, picking up his suitcase and the bag.

“There’s no need for them to know, is there?”

Hoping that the cat would stay quiet, the three of them went up the trapdoor and into the cargo hold where they were suddenly met by the ship’s captain. Reyn and Goten were about to salute but, at the sight of them carrying the bags, the captain motioned dismissively.

“At ease. Your documents and orders,” he demanded, stretching his hand out.

“Right, sir,” Goten muttered, setting his luggage to the ground. He retrieved his ID card and the call-up papers and passed them to the captain while Reyn was still searching for his wallet in the bag of food he had been carrying.

“Here it is, sir,” he said finally, retrieving his wallet.

The captain took their documents and motioned them to follow him to a vehicle waiting for them. A Saiyan at the wheel gave Reyn and Goten the once-over and told them to store their luggage at the back of the vehicle. The third-classes took seats at the back while the other three managed to squeeze in at the front of the car. Goten tried to decipher the stripes on the driver’s uniform and decided that it was probably one of the many Maintenance Technicians that they had to have on board.

“Meow. Meow?”

“Is that your stomach again?” Reyn asked Goten. The driver started the car, the soft hum filling the hangar, and Reyn cursed the cat mentally for not keeping quiet for at least two more seconds.

“Yeah, lately I haven’t…”

“It’s funny how it sounds the same as the cat that you obviously have in that box,” the captain said loudly, the hum of the generator intensifying when the car picked up speed.

“Umm…” Goten drawled. “Well, yeah, about the cat, sir. Can we keep it?”

The captain shrugged. “Keep it locked.”

They left the hangar, then proceeded down the main hallway until they had to turn left. The hallway turned into a hangar, the metallic walls suddenly giving way to reinforced steel beams and bars crisscrossing the spacious area. While they were driving above the hangar, Goten was looking around, amazed by the sheer size of the ship. He could see five shuttles beneath them, one of them being worked on, sparks flying from under the welder. His eyes caught movement further on his left – it was an elevator coming up.

They crossed the hangar and continued down one of the halls until the living quarters came into view. At first, the technician stopped the car in front of cabin marked 209 to drop Daimara off. Then, he stopped at the door marked with the number 221 and a dozen dirty handprints.

“I’ll send someone back with the documents,” the captain said while Reyn and Goten were unloading their luggage. He wanted to run the orders through the National Security database.

Goten watched the captain and the technician drive away, then carried his bags inside. Reyn had been fast to make himself at home: the bags with food were already inside the open wardrobe at the opposite wall and he was checking the bed closest to the door. He let out a satisfied grunt and sat down on it, claiming it as his.

“Meow?”

“Right,” Reyn grunted. He stood up again and went to the box containing Mr. Elite. “Shall I let him out?”

“Umm…” Goten drawled uncertainly. He was testing the other bed – the springs in the mattress were worn and there was a sizeable indentation in the middle. He couldn’t imagine that it would be comfortable to sleep on. He threw the duvet back onto the mattress and turned to look at the cat carrier. “I’m afraid he’ll just take off and we’ll never find him again. Did you see the size of this ship?”

Reyn did see it, but keeping the cat in the box for two days wasn’t going to cut it – Mr. Elite was going to keep demanding to be released and would also shit all over the box. It was going to stink and now they had no adjacent bathroom to just stick him in.

“When do they have lunch here?” Goten wondered. “Would be a pity to miss it.”

“Let’s go look around?”

“Sure, but let’s wait for our documents to return, first.”

The captain was taking his time and the third-classes, meanwhile, inspected the cabin. It was small and stank of dirty clothing and something mouldy. There were only two chairs and a minute desk with an old terminal. The terminal worked and was quite fast, of which Reyn was assured as soon as he turned it on. After searching the wardrobe, Goten found a few books and magazines in an unknown language. He also discovered a porn magazine under his mattress.

“Well, we’ll only be staying here for a few days,” he said, putting the magazine back where he had found it. He opened his suitcase to remove a large bag of food. The few clothes that he had inside already smelled like sausages and bread. He rummaged through them and his fingers touched the recipe book. Goten wondered if he would ever stop feeling nostalgic about it. Probably never – the book somehow marked all the things he’d had and, at the same time, everything he could never have.

The third-class opened the cover and frowned in surprise. “You drew a dick…” Goten said in disbelief. He looked at the flight officer, then lowered his eyes back to the front page. The dick was still there, black on white, a ginormous dick with a hairy ballsack. He looked at the flight officer again. He wasn’t even certain what to say. To Goten’s surprise, he neither felt angry nor annoyed. He knew why Reyn had drawn it and it was better to just leave this be. Yet, it was astounding to see Reyn do something so absurdly childish.

“What?” Reyn asked indignantly when Goten kept staring at him. “Staring at your cockbook again? I’m surprised it isn’t covered in cum-stains yet.”

Goten couldn’t help chuckling. In a way, Reyn was right. “Maybe it is, what do you know?” he said, amused. “You do realize that it’s not my book, don’t you?”

“Who the fuck cares? If two of your hypothetical boyfriends marked their territory in it, I am more than entitled to do the same.”

Goten grinned at him. “Well, you just did. Does it make you feel better?”

Reyn let out a discontent grunt. “It makes me feel stupid. I’ve just put myself on the same level as those idiots.”

Goten chuckled again. “Where did you even get a pen?”

TBC