Dragonball
GT/Iria:Zeiram
Crossover
"The Hunter's
Game"
by: Jennifer L.
Mondazzi
written:
09/04/97-10/04/97
"The Zeiram are probably the universe's most dangerous
predators. Their capability to absorb cellular structures and
incorporate them into their own systems gives them the distinct
advantage of unlimited amounts of power and potency, which can aid in
the increase of their lifespans by decades, and perhaps even centuries.
It also gives them increased regenerative properties, and the potential
to create multiple, malformed clones of every being it has fused with.
However, it is not their strength, nor their seemingly vast mortality,
nor even their reproduction methods which we should dread. No, we
should fear the Zeiram for their ingenious ability to evolve into a
higher, more intelligent lifeform with each and every assimilation.
For this reason alone, the entire species is considered a Class 'A'
threat, and should be utterly exterminated."
- Dr. Riro Touka,
Master, Genetic Evolutionary Theory and Experimentation,
Professor of Biology for the Mycenean Institute of Science
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Part I: The Game
Begins
The blinking targeting message, which appeared in brilliant, crimson
across her ship's computer screen, had Kei smirking in triumph.
<Heh, I've got you now,
you bastard! >
She squeezed the trigger with a practiced ease, and felt the
rumble of her twin-beam laser cannons respond. Brilliant yellow streaks
painted the black of space for an instant, silent in their passing, and
sped lightning-fast towards her prey's unsuspecting escape pod. They
struck true, knocking its navigational system off-line, and destroying
one of its retro-engines. The pod spun wildly out of control, flipping
over and over.
It was only then that Kei realized her mistake.
Attempting to adjust her speed and trajectory, she knew where she'd
gone wrong - she shouldn't have fired at that close a range. She
wrenched the wheel of the Kreper ship roughly to the right, but it was
no use; there was no time left to swerve it out of the way of the pod's
violent spin. The ship's warning sirens blared loudly in the small
compartment, and Kei braced herself, knowing what was coming.
She was thrown forward, rocked by the tremendous forces, when the two
ships collided. Smashing her head on the front panel had really hurt,
and she was seeing stars for a few seconds, before her vision finally
cleared, but this was the least of her worries, she quickly realized.
The smaller damage was easily identified - the long and short-range
scanners had gone down as soon as the computer's AI had, and the radio
was a hunk of burned metal and wires. All weapons systems were out, but
thankfully, the shields still functioned - if barely. Using the tails
of her long coat, she snuffed out a small fire that started from her
chair's console.
The worst part of all, the part that Kei absolutely dreaded knowing was
that the Kreper was stuck on this course, and she couldn't alter it.
The on-board computer controlled just about everything: the
navigational arrays, the temperature gauges, and the stasis and life
support systems, on the small, two-seater flyship.
Kei had bought this model Kreper for its convenience, knowing that
some of her runs took her out into space for days at a time, and that
concentrating on flying during such a trip would be impossible - a
pilot had to sleep after all! So, she had caved in - at her computer
friend, Bob's insistence - and had purchased the newest model, complete
with all of the latest, brightest state-of-the-art gadgets and gizmos.
The blood-sucking salesman had hooked her by throwing in the pilot's
steering mechanism - for those rare times when she actually had nothing
better to do, and would want to go out for a joyride. For the
exorbitant price she had paid, she'd have expected such a thing to have
been part of the standard package deal.
She was glad now that they had added this feature.
At the rate the ship was falling towards the small blue and white
planet below, there wouldn't be any time to fix the computer.
Basically, she had no choice now but to fly and land the ship on her
own, following the course that the computer had locked her into.
<I could have lived without knowing that! >she
mentally ranted at the blank screen in front of her.
Grabbing hold of the wheel, she valiantly tried to rotate the ship's
wide, flat sides away from the larger debris that the pod left behind,
which were careening past her at an unfathomable speed. At least she
still had control of the ship's left and right tilting-motor functions.
"Things are looking up already!" she murmured under her breath.
Kei tilted and turned the ship, and just managed to avoid getting torn
up by the largest of the wreckage. However, she couldn't defend herself
against the smaller bits of metal, which embedded themselves into the
alloy sides of her vehicle. She heard the loud
_kerchunks_ echo through the hollow areas of her
Kreper, and the wheel jarred in her hands. The fragments would add
weight, which would soon begin to unbalance the ship.
"Alright, maybe I spoke too soon," she grimaced as she noted the holes
being torn into the structure. She hoped those shards didn't sever her
line to the oxygen tanks, otherwise she'd be breathing shallow until
she hit ground. _IF _this planet is
oxygen-based, she reminded herself. She hadn't run a scan on
this system before entering it, and this was completely uncharted,
virgin territory, not on any of the star charts or maps.
Iria's words suddenly came back to her then: "<Understanding
the situation, and all its elements before you charge into a hot spot
is the only way to get home at the end of the day. Anything else can be
a fatal mistake...as Gren found out.">
Kei hadn't taken her mentor's words to heart. Rushing in blindly,
acting upon pure emotion had gotten her into trouble yet again. She
spat in frustration, and considered the available options.
She could always jettison the cockpit portion of the
Kreper, raising the shield for protection, and float around in space
until someone came by to rescue her. <Fat chance,
>she thought bitterly. <My air would run out way before then.>
The second alternative was just as scary - she might try to
land the ship and pray that the planet's atmosphere below was one in
which she could survive in, until help arrived.
Well, it was a big gamble, but Kei knew that she really had no choice
- she was locked on and heading straight for this world. Better to ride
it out and take a chance on the unknown, than hang around up here and
pray for a miracle that may never come. She knew Iria would have done
the same.
<When in doubt, always act.>
Mentally cursing herself a fool for not having put the shield up to
begin with - which might have minimized the amount of damage she had
taken - Kei absently wiped away at the sweat that dripped into her
vision, and concentrated on not letting old mistakes create new ones.
She reached over and hit the button to raise the crystallized barrier
of protection, hoping that it would be strong enough to take the bumpy
ride which awaited her. When she pulled her fingers away from the
dials, she noted the smeared blood that was left behind. Turning her
hand over, she took a good look at her fingers, and then at her
reflection off the glass surface of the screen.
There it was - not a large cut, but definitely a deep one. Her blood
poured from the wound, trickling down her cheeks, to splash onto her
clothes, coloring them a dark cherry. <Great, a head injury to
top off my marvelous day! >she thought to herself
sarcastically, mopping the steady flow of blood away from her eyes, and
trying to keep the pain she was beginning to feel at bay by
concentrating on what she needed to do instead.
The escape pod fell like a grotesque, twisted missile towards the
planet below. As it entered the atmosphere ahead of her, she could see
it breaking up, watched in detached fascination as the heat panels that
surrounded it were melted in the scouring pyre that accompanied a
gravity fall. Only when her own ship was buffeted by a similar force,
as it smashed into the upper-most layer of the ionosphere, did Kei
regain her senses. She flipped the switches to release the pressure on
her right maneuvering thruster, which was sputtering from damage it had
taken, praying that it wouldn't malfunction or have a burn-out. She
needed that engine to function or she would die. Simple as that.
<Please, hold together,> she begged the ship,
clenching and unclenching her fingers around the steering column. The
light indicating the thruster's status flickered a few times, then held
steady, and Kei let out a great breath of air. "Alrighty then," she
murmured sarcastically, wiping at the blood again, "all I need to do
now is land this ship. I can do that without the help the computer -
really, I can."
She realized that, in general, talking to one's self was
considered a sign of mental impending, but trying to remain chirpy and
optimistic at a time like this just wasn't really going to change a
dammed thing, especially when the facts stated _very_
clearly that she was out of control, and dropping to, what would be in
gambling terms, "in the odds for a sure-fire death."
Besides, it just plain made her feel better to bitch right now.
"Hey, if I'm lucky, this back-water planet might even have a
breathable atmosphere," she continued, trying to concentrate on keeping
the nose of the ship up. It fought her control like a son-of-a-bitch,
but she braced her feet and pulled back, finding a use for muscles she
hadn't even remembered having. "If I get really lucky," she ranted on,
grunting with the effort of holding the wheel at the perfect angle, "it
may...ooof...even have food and water, and...eerg...friendly natives
who are...ugh... technologically-advanced, and will want
to...shit!...want to help me put this hunk of junk back together." She
gritted her teeth, feeling spittle fly out of her mouth and onto the
screen, pulled down by the increasing gravity. Her muscles screamed in
protest to the strain against them, but she refused to give in.
"Oh, and in the interim," she continued her tirade, "I'll...find a way
to get... dammit!... back in touch with that stupid jackass Bob,
and...owwww!...he can send out the cavalry... kkkeeerrr... so that I
can get home when this nightmare's all over." She huffed out a
half-forced laugh in between grunting. "Maybe this will even be...that
excuse I was trying to find...argh...to take that much-needed
vacation."
Her chest burned with the strain as the minutes ticked by, but still,
she forced her body to give more. Her adrenaline was pumping now, so
maybe it would help give her the super-energy she'd need to keep her
from feeling any weaknesses until after she touched ground. She grabbed
the wheel tighter in her hands, and watched the altimeter carefully,
trying to match angle of reentry so that she wouldn't burn up. She only
hoped that her enemy hadn't the opportunity to do the same. She could
no longer see the pod, and hoped that it had melted completely, taking
the horrible monstrosity it had housed inside of it to its death.
"...so, then he says that I look too much like a tom-boy to be
girl! Can you believe that? First he says I'm too immature to be
nineteen, and then, he says that I don't look female. What a jerk! I
was so angry that I slapped him."
The cyborg Juuhachi-gou, now known only as Juu, sat down next to her
daughter on the front steps of their house, and grimaced. "Hitting him,
undoubtedly, got him mad, and he probably said something even worse,
then stormed off, right?" she fathomed a guess, hoping that she didn't
make her overly-sensitive daughter burst out into tears by being so
blunt. Marron just nodded sullenly, and sipped at her glass of iced
tea, looking down at the tops of her shoes. Juu sighed. "Vegeta's son,
it seems, is exactly like his father - he needs to learn some manners,"
she murmured, her elegant brows angling downward in semi-annoyance.
"You try telling him that," her daughter answered dejectedly.
Her tone of voice almost made Juu smile, forgetting the seriousness of
the situation. She pursed her perfect lips instead, and swallowed the
laughter that had bubbled up from inside. Her daughter would not have
appreciated such a gesture at the moment. Also, the fact that the girl
was distraught over her long-time crush's remarks was the only thing
keeping Juu from saying what she really felt about the lavender-haired
young man, when she did speak.
"Marron, the fact that Trunks still sees you as a child, and not a
full-grown woman, is an indication that he's worried about getting
older himself," she offered, her voice as neutral as ever. "After all,
he's only five years your elder, but that span of time makes a great
amount of deal to humans. I think he still remembers you as a little,
tag-along who used to play kickball and hide-n-seek with him and Goten,
but now that you're a young woman, he has to admit that time has
passed, and that you're both a lot older." She sighed, and looked out
over the lawn, hoping that she was reaching her daughter's sensible
side.
Marron said nothing, but continued drinking from her glass,
considering her mother's words of wisdom. She absently chewed loudly on
a piece of ice, crunching it between her teeth in irritation, her gaze
far away for the moment.
Juu took a swig of her own iced tea again, and quickly examined her
daughter's appearance out of the corner of her eye, utilizing the human
half of her brain to do so.
True, Marron's short haircut, with the back cut close to the scalp,
made her appear boyish. However, the long, blonde bangs which hung in
the girl's eyes gave her a vulnerable look, and highlighted her dark
eyes nicely. Her lips were not overly full, but just right, and her
cheek-bones were finely sculpted. Although she was only an average cup
in the bust, her waist was thin, and her hips rounded, giving her a
semi-hourglass shape. Add to that the girl's long legs, and delicate
wrists, fingers and ankles, and you came up with a very beautiful
picture of a woman entering her twenties in less than a few months.
Juu was rather proud, actually. Marron was overall a perfect, healthy
specimen for a female human - even if her wardrobe did consist
primarily of jeans, T-shirts and sneakers. Personally, she didn't
understand why Trunks didn't see the girl that way, either.
"Hey, what's that?" Marron asked, squinting and pointing towards the
glowing, white ball that fell from the sky, off in the distance. Juu
looked up in the direction her daughter indicated, and shielded her
eyes from the glare of the noonday's sun. Her half-mechanical brain
allowed her eyes to zoom in on the object, but even from this distance,
all she could make out was that it was metallic in nature.
"I'm not sure," she admitted. "It could be a ship of some sort, or
maybe a satellite. Whatever it is, it's coming down fast."
"It's beautiful!" Marron exclaimed, watching as the object created a
wide mauve and gold streak as it passed through the cornflower sky,
plummeting towards the mountains off to the north. For an instant, she
forgot all about her worries, and concentrated on the beautiful colors
off in the distance. <What a painting that would
make!> she thought to herself, an idea forming in her mind for
her latest canvas inspiration.
As Juu followed the entity's path across the sky, a sinking feeling
invading her stomach, making her physically sick. Her instincts shouted
within that something bad was about to happen, and if there was one
thing Juu knew, it was to always trust her instincts. She stood
quickly, dropping her drink, which spilled down the stairs and onto the
concrete walkway below, but paid it no heed. She turned, stepping up,
and entered the house, moving swiftly to the phone. As she began
dialing the number to her husband's dojo, she felt her breath catch in
her throat awkwardly.
Although she usually prided herself on not being superstitious, as
most humans were, Juu knew that Kuririn would say that this object was
a terrible omen, for sure. Maybe he'd be willing to check it out with
her?
"I'm off!" Goten called, slinging his jacket over his shoulder
and bolting out the door of his mother's home. The pepper-haired woman
called after him. "Goten, be careful on your way to Capsule Corp. You
know that they don't take well to unidentified flying objects!"
Goten waved back, indicating he had heard her, and took off into the
sky in a blaze of energy. Chi Chi watched him go, and sighed. Her baby
wasn't her baby anymore, she'd just have to accept that. He was a man
of twenty-three now, he lived in his own apartment in the city, and
she'd just have to expect this sort of behavior from him. After all, he
was similar to his older brother, Gohan, who had done nearly the same
thing to her at this age. But, as she reflected on it, Goten was much
more like his father, Goku, in that he constantly forgot the most
important things, and yet was always around for trouble when it reared
its ugly head.
Of course, Paris would keep him under control once the two of them had
finally married. The young, pretty woman had a good, solid head on her
shoulders, and Goten was smitten completely with her. Yes, Goten's
young girlfriend would soon snag herself a husband, and Chi Chi would
happily accept her into their family, eagerly awaiting her second set
of grandchildren.
Turning to go back into the house, she caught a glimmer out of the
corner of her eye, and stopped to look at it more closely. Something
bright streaked across the sky, falling quickly off to the east, near
where Gohan's house was located. <I wonder if that son of mine
is home to see this,> she idly pondered.
It hit upon her then that this gave herself a perfect excuse to call
her oldest child, and see how he, his wife, and his daughter were
doing. Maybe she'd even be invited over to their place for a visit!
With Goku gone during the days - off training again - Chi Chi's
loneliness had returned in full-force over the past few weeks. The
sudden decision that she wouldn't sit around the house this time, idly
waiting for her husband to show up, made her feel a thousand times
better in an instant.
Yes, she would go out and have fun, and Goku would be home by the
evening, as usual, and they could each talk about their exciting day
over dinner.
Hurrying back into the house, she dialed Gohan's number and waited for
someone to pick up.
The mighty Namek-saijin, Piccolo, once feared as one of the
most destructive enemies of humanity, and, since then, labeled a savior
instead, looked up from his meditation to spy the falling metal object
overhead. From where he sat, floating in the air thousands of feet off
the ground, there was no question that it was the remains of a pod-like
ship. He watched as it veered crazily out of control, and streamed off
towards the north, preparing for a crash landing. When it hit the
ocean, thousands of gallons of water cascaded into the air, shooting
into the afternoon sky for hundreds of feet, before falling back to
rest once more.
Normally, such a sight wouldn't have been enough to bother Piccolo,
after all, there were plenty of other "defenders of the earth" to take
care of almost anything that could happen nowadays. Besides, he had
only been resurrected by the brand-new set of Dragonballs a few months
earlier, and he had planned to spend some time enjoying living once
more.
Yet, he felt the all-too-familiar tug of evil approaching again, and
he knew that something terrible was about to befall the planet he
called home. <It never ends,> he thought with a sigh,
and he stood up, launching himself away through the air, to follow the
object's flight path, hoping to take care of this mess as quickly as
possible so he could return to his meditations. Along the way, however,
his frown turned into a fanged-filled grin of anticipation. It had been
a while since anything exciting had happened. This was the perfect
opportunity for him to try out his new technique.
The day was looking up already.
The creature pulled itself from the wreckage of the vehicle,
that it had used for transport to escape, and made its way to the
surface of the liquid that it had landed in. It peeked its head
cautiously above the lapping waves, and saw the shore not more than a
mile or so away. The sun was its zenith, which irritated the creature,
who preferred darkness, but it could adapt given time. It sank back
below the surface, waiting for the light to fade above before seeking
further refuge. It allowed itself to be buffeted by the currents, but
not carried away from this spot, clinging to a melted, large piece of
scrap from the pod for support.
It waited patiently for the night to come.
"This isn't a beauty contest, you know," Goten yelled through
the door of the bathroom. He crossed the room, and reclined across
Trunks' king-sized bed, looking up at the ceiling. "We're gonna be late
to pick up the girls for dinner if you don't move your butt!" The
mattress under him, he noted, was as soft as goose down, and the sheets
made of the finest, softest silk.
<What a spoiled brat,> he thought, with a fond shake
of his head.
Leaning back on his folded hands, Goten gazed at his best friend's
bedroom - which he'd seen a thousand times before - taking in the
perfectly matched oak furniture, the priceless paintings which adorned
the walls, and the open armoire, which contained only the most
fashionable and expensive names in clothing. For not the first time, he
imagined how sweet life must be if you happened to be the son of one of
the richest women in the world. Bulma pampered her only son ruthlessly,
and having the added bonus of Capsule Corporations finances to back her
up, it allowed her to always give Trunks the very best of everything -
even now, when the guy was twenty-four, and no longer the little boy he
once was. <Yep, definitely spoiled,> he thought with
a smile.
` Trunks' muffled reply came back to him through the door. "I'm almost
done. Keep your socks on!"
"If we're late, we'll have to skip dinner and go right to the
concert!" Goten called back, grinning. "You don't want your date to
hear your stomach growling, do you?" He snickered wickedly, waiting for
the expected response. It wasn't long in coming.
"Awww...shut-up! I'm moving as fast as I can."
Goten chuckled. <Some things never change,> he
thought, knowing what Trunks' reply would be. He just wanted to razz
his friend a little; the opportunity didn't present itself very often
anymore. Tonight gave him the perfect excuse to... The sounds of teeth
being brushed and gargling were clearly audible a few seconds later.
Goten's smirk was positively beaming. He knew his best friend was
getting all snazzied up for this blind double-date.
Despite the certainty that he was incredibly handsome, and all the
girls practically threw themselves on him, coupled with the fact that
he was the active President of Capsule Corporation, Trunks showed very
little interest in dating. In fact, it had taken Paris' tirade about
Trunks' youth wasting away, and a promise to make it a double date, to
convince him to be set up with one of her friends - a girl he'd never
seen before. Goten had smirked at his friend's defeated look once Paris
had finished with him, and he beamed with pride at his girlfriend for
having accomplished something that Goten had all but deemed impossible.
Trunks, like his father, was as stubborn as they came, but even worse,
he was fickle - women didn't seem to hold his attention for too long.
The routine had grown predictable: the first few weeks would be hot and
heavy, with Trunks throwing on the charm and mystery, then a couple of
weeks later, his torrid affairs would always end dramatically, with no
chance of a friendship remaining. He always made a clean cut, severing
the ties completely. <Maybe to keep the guilt at
bay,> Goten analyzed with a certain amount of understanding.
He used to have similar relationships, and they had always left him
unfulfilled, and feeling more than a little ashamed when it was all
over.
However, those times had ended the day of Paris' accident, a little
less than a year ago now. He thought, at the time, that she might die
from her injuries, and that was the moment that he realized he loved
her. From that point on, there was no one else - only Paris. Goten
wished that his friend could find that sort of love someday too.
<Maybe he will tonight,> he thought. He doubted it,
but still, it couldn't hurt to hope.
Looking good, he knew, would make a great first impression, so Goten
decided that he wouldn't harass Trunks about his vanity anymore than
necessary.
Nonetheless, he didn't have to take so long to get ready...
He quickly glanced down at his own choice of apparel, and grinned; he
had to admit that he was no better. He'd gotten home from work an hour
early just to dress and make sure that his midnight-colored hair,
normally very unruly and hard to tame, behaved itself just for the
evening. He was wearing his favorite outfit: black slacks, loose enough
to fight in, if necessary, a black, cotton T-shirt, which hugged his
well-defined chest and arms, and an unbuttoned, long-sleeved, green and
blue plaid shirt. The ensemble was completed with a pair of black
streetshoes, with genuine leather soles. It was called 'the grunge
look' to fashion designers around the world, but to Goten, who could
care less about trends, it was just plain comfortable and, he had to
admit, looked sexy on him. He knew Paris would like it.
His older brother, Son Gohan, would not have been caught dead in such
an outfit, he thought wryly.
If there was on thing that separated Goten from his sibling, it was
Goten's need to always be comfy in every aspect of his life. Take for
instance, their differences in clothes. Gohan tended to wear suits on a
daily basis, and an occasional dress shirt with jeans on the weekend.
No sloppy sweats for him, however. No torn clothes either.
Goten _preferred_ to wear that type of clothing, as
it didn't restrict his movements, nor make him feel stuffy. Relaxed was
the best way to describe it.
However, Goten did have to give his brother's style some credit - it
added to the way he carried himself. Basically, Gohan tended to attract
attention, and to command a certain, unearned respect from almost
everyone he met. It was the strangest, and most inspiring experience to
watch the man walk into a room and have everyone suddenly became quiet,
their stares riveted on him. It had given Goten the creeps the first
time he had seen this phenomena, but now, he had to admit that he
admired it, and part of him secretly wished that he could order a
similar response from others. An added bonus to Gohan's lifestyle was
that women had the habit of crawling all over each other just to have a
moment alone with him, even despite knowing that he was happily
married. If there was one thing Goten understood about most women, it
was that they loved a man who was confident, sensitive and sharp. Gohan
was the epitome of such things.
Of course, it helped that he looked just like one of those GQ models,
with a well-muscled body, a strikingly handsome face, and an
intelligence that shone behind those professional, stylized glasses of
his. There were barely any visible scars to the man, despite all his
years of hard fighting and brutal training, and he was intuitively
receptive to others' moods and concerns.
For all these reasons, Gohan was adored by everyone.
Goten, on the other hand, was like a rugged, stocky, boxer-type -
shorter than Gohan, and covered with very visible scars across his
knuckles and chest. He also had a small one by his left ear, which
Paris actually found attractive. As a consequence, he tended to keep
his hair short on the sides. Normally, he dressed in whatever was clean
and within reach in the morning, and often he encouraged his hair's
Saiya-jin-like quality of being wild, allowing it to lay where it
preferred. He didn't care for name brands, or fashionable trends, and
didn't buy expensive after shaves or colognes. He was an earthy kind of
guy, who preferred the 'plug-n-play' flavor to that of the tinkerer. He
liked working at Satan's Gym, and not in a stuffy
office environment, because he got to help in the training of young
athletes. It was something he was intuitively good at, and was happy
doing. Besides, it allowed him to continue his own training; that way,
he could continue entering the Budoukais, like his
father had when he was younger.
So, no matter how tempting his older brother's style was to the young
man, Goten refused to change for anyone but himself, and only in his
own time. In his case, looking good was secondary to knowing yourself
and being comfortable with who and what you were. Since he understood
this clearer now that he was older, he no longer felt like the
much-under-shadowed sibling that he believed himself to once be. He
accepted that he may not be an immediate show-stopper like Gohan, but
he knew that when he wanted something badly enough, he usually got it.
That was good enough for him.
The door to the bathroom opened, and Trunks came out, dressed in a
sleek pair of black-blue slacks, which fit him snugly in the right
places, a lavender, cotton T-shirt, which highlighted his
lavender-colored hair nicely, and a sky-blue, unbuttoned vest, which
accentuated his pale, blue eyes, making them somehow appear deeper in
color. His hair had been cut earlier that week to just above his ears,
as he preferred, but Goten knew that in a few months, it would be long
again, his bangs reaching down to his cheeks. He'd cut it again when it
began to bother him, and the cycle would start all over then - it was
almost ritual.
Trunks hurried over to his drawers, and took out a pair of socks.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, near Goten's feet, he donned them as
they talked.
"So, who do you think is going to steal the pre-show - The
Replicants or THTC?" Goten asked, striking up
a conversation in the hushed room. He was hoping that Trunks would say
the latter group, and be willing to place money on it. It was a
sure-win sucker bet if that was the case.
The newest fad going around the concert scene was the pre-show
competitions. Normally, two or three amateur, local bands would play a
thirty-minute stretch on-stage before the main attraction came on to
finish up the show. They would then be rated by the crowd's reaction,
with the help of a meter that registered decibel levels. The winning
band usually got a trip somewhere, or a contract with some famous
studio - whatever. The part that made these events so famous, and a big
draw for the crowds, was the behind-the-scenes betting that went on.
Goten knew that The Replicants had added a hot new
singer into their band, a sexy female from the club circuit, and word
around was that she was hot, with a voice to
match. THTC, a band made up of four guys, would never
be able to compete, despite their singing talent. He was hoping to pick
up a little extra cash tonight.
Friendship could sometimes be so competitive.
Trunks shrugged. "How about you choose this time," he said,
distractedly, as he reached for his shoes under the bed. "I don't care
either way."
Immediately, Goten knew something was wrong. Normally, Trunks was all
bluster and huff, bragging about some inside connection that guaranteed
he wouldn't lose. Right now, he appeared as though he really didn't
care. What was going on? This wasn't the Trunks that Goten knew. "Hey,
you're not backing out on this date, are you?" he asked, growing a
little worried, thinking about his friend's strange shift in moods. The
pale-haired boy shrugged noncommittally once more, and sat back on the
bed, putting his streetwalkers on, while pointedly avoiding his
friend's question. The little
'there's-something-wrong-but-don't-panic-quite-yet' button inside
Goten's head started blinking, calling his attention to it.
Lately, he had noticed that Trunks spent more and more time by
himself, disappearing for hours on end, and reappearing when least
expected. Goten wondered where he went during those times, and what he
did when he was gone. He wondered why he wasn't invited to come along.
It almost seemed as though Trunks was trying to push him away in some
small way, and Goten didn't understand why.
The two had been best pals for their entire lives, almost inseparable.
It was like an invisible string attached them at the hips, Trunks'
mother, Bulma, used to joke. More than that, though, Trunks was like a
solid brick in the foundation to Goten's topsy-turvy world. Whenever
his father would be gone, either by getting himself killed or off
training somewhere, Goten knew that he could always rely on Trunks to
help him find his smile again. Of course, that worked in the reverse
too; when Vegeta would be gone, it was Goten's turn to be the
supportive shoulder or the listening ear.
Now, though, Trunks hardly ever had time to hang out, and he
definitely didn't confided in Goten any longer. A space had grown
between them over the last few months, and he hadn't realized how wide
it had become until just this moment. He understood that people
sometimes grew apart when they got older, but Goten had honestly
believed that his bond of friendship with Trunks was the one thing that
would never fade away. Warriors, brothers, best friends - that had been
their pledge to each other when they had been small children, and Goten
still considered it as binding now as it had been then - maybe even
more so with the passing of years. The real question was, did Trunks
still believe in it too?
Goten audibly swallowed, trying to push aside his growing doubts. No,
if there was something that terribly wrong, surely Trunks would tell
him - he believed that. In the meantime, he'd give his friend a little
space to try and work out whatever was bothering him.
Deciding to change the tone, he resolved that picking a fight with
Trunks, something he hadn't done for a while, might help to ease the
tension and sudden awkwardness between them. "Well, hey, it's O.K. if
you are backing out," he began, dangling the
lure out to the proverbial fish. He shrugged ambiguously for show, and
stood up, starting to head for the door. "I had it in the bag, anyway.
No way am I gonna lose the betting tonight."
Being snotty to the point of insulting someone was one of Goten's
specialties in life. He'd picked up the trick from Trunks when they
were kids, and now, he stepped back into that role easily, using it in
the hopes of pulling his best friend out of his melancholia for the
moment. He headed out the door, and down the hallway quicker than
normal, but with his hands rammed into his pants pockets nonchalantly.
In his head, he counted backwards from five, and on "one", he heard
heavy footsteps chase after him. He started down the stairs to the main
floor of the residence quarters to Capsule Corps. 'royal family', and
knew he had succeeded.
"And what's that supposed to mean, kid?" Trunks asked, struggling to
put his purple "Capsule Corp" jacket on. The use of the word 'kid' was
purposefully meant to irk Goten, and he knew it. It didn't - well, not
that much, anyway. In truth, he was only younger than his friend by a
little more than a year, but it made little difference to either of
them, since they had been in the same grade all throughout their
schooling years. However, he'd always hated being called 'kid' or
'little boy' by his elders, and now Trunks was using that against him.
<Sneaky bastard.> He wouldn't rise up to start the
shouting match that usually accompanied such a remark, but instead,
continued playing the game out as he'd originally intended.
He snorted in contempt. "Oh, come on, it's
_obvious_ that I'm gonna win this time."
"And what makes you think that, you little punk?" Trunks challenged,
shoving Goten's shoulder playfully. Goten grinned, readying himself for
the verbal sparring match that was about to get into full-swing. He put
on his 'airs' and sniffed disdainfully.
"Because I'm just plain better than you are," he replied childishly,
brushing a piece of lint off of his shirt as he continued walking, and
refusing to look over at Trunks, knowing it would infuriate him
further. "I'm better at everything I do - better at picking a winner,
better at listening, better at kissing, and
_definitely_ better looking. In fact, the babes
are helpless before my superior intellect and charm."
Trunks laughed. "Oh, right, whatever!" he remarked derisively,
punching Goten in the arm lightly. His biceps bulged as he flexed, and
Goten's sharp, Saiya-jin eyes noticed that they had increased a little
in size; his friend seemed to be gaining muscle-mass. Had he been out
training during all those times he disappeared? If so, with whom?
Surely not with Goten's own father, for Son Goku was off with his
former student, Uubu, most of the time. Vegeta then? What new
techniques was Trunks learning that Goten was not?
Trunks' voice brought him out of his contemplation.
"Yea," he teased, "the girls will be helpless before you alright -
helpless to do anything but faint dead-away."
Goten snickered, and elbowed his friend in the solar plexus a little
more roughly. This was more like the Trunks he was used to. "No," he
replied with a nasty grin, "they'll faint because I'm too sexy to take
on all at once!"
The two "combatants" exited through Capsule Corp.'s residential side,
and propelled themselves into the sky, towards the city, with little
effort or thought, continuing their conversation without interruption.
Trunks chuckled. "I _can_ definitely believe
there being too much of you to take," he said, reaching over to pinch
Goten's side. There wasn't an ounce of fat on the younger man, but
Trunks did manage to grab an inch of skin. "You keep eating the way you
do, and I'll have to roll you to the gym someday."
Goten turned his face towards Trunks to respond, when something, that
glittered like a falling star, streaked through the horizon, just over
his friend's left shoulder. He stopped short, hoping to get a better
fix on what he was seeing, and sensed Trunks do the same. The two
hovered in the air, shoulder to shoulder, no need for words to pass
between them. They understood each other perfectly - if this was
another threat to their world, they'd handle it together, as they
always had.
This one moment gave Goten back a sense of hope - perhaps his
friendship with Trunks wasn't failing after all. Maybe the guy was just
having a rough time at home, and needed some privacy. Goten could
understand that - he'd often find himself wandering around alone too,
brooding about something or other.
He knew one thing for certain: he didn't envy Trunks' position. Being
the only heir to the Saiya-jin throne, plus the Vice-President of
Capsule Corporation, once Bulma had come back out of retirement, had to
be really tough on a person. He was sure Vegeta wasn't making it any
easier on his son, either. He could be really brutal when he wanted to
be, and he constantly put pressure on Trunks to be better. That's not
even mentioning Bulma's stern "dress-downs" whenever her son didn't
attend the company board meetings. Then, there was also Bra's
merciless, almost malicious teasing of her older brother. It was a
wonder that his friend hadn't emotionally exploded yet.
At his side, Trunks nudged him out of his thoughts. "What do you
think?" he asked, squinting off into the distance. "It kind of looks
like a spaceship to me."
Goten focused his acute, genetically-enhanced sight on the object. It
was metallic, had wings, an enclosed section, and two engines in the
back - yea, it looked like a spaceship. He grunted, and added a nod for
good gesture. "Unnn...Good call," he commented. Trunks said nothing,
still intent upon watching.
Faintly, they heard the sonic boom trail behind the ship, loud enough
to disrupt the air for at least fifty miles in all directions. The
object, about twenty or so miles away from them, crashed through the
forest into the side of a mountain, and impacted with the earth in a
rippling explosion. Both young men could visibly see the heat wavering
in the air as a small, cherry-red mushroom bloom rose up above the
tree-line. Another gigantic explosion ripped at the forest a second
later, igniting it in a blaze of purple, yellow and orange.
"Whoa..." Goten exclaimed, just as Trunks took off towards the blast,
reaching top acceleration, without the aid of Super Saiya-jin mode. For
an instant, Goten hovered there, shocked. Normally, he was the
impulsive, emotional one of the duo. Trunks was the rationalizer, the
thinker, who considered the situation carefully before reacting. Goten
shook his head; something was definitely up with that boy, and he
wasn't sure he was going to like finding out what it was.
He fired up his ki, putting on an extra burst of
speed to catch Trunks. "Hey, wait up for me!"
Videl's house shook violently, and the plates, that she had just been
going to put in the cupboard, fell to the ground and smashed into a
million tiny pieces across her tiled floor. She hung onto the counter,
trying to keep from falling over, as things began tumbling out of the
shelves in her kitchen, rolling across the floor or fracturing
completely. Vaguely, she heard a female scream in another part of the
house.
"Pan!" she shouted, hoping her daughter would hear her over the
rumbling. "Hide under a desk or table, quickly!"
An instant later, a brilliant light flare up through the front window,
shattering the glass inwards, as something exploded from not-too far
away from the tiny house. Videl felt some of the slivers reach her,
cutting the skin of her arms, which were crossed in front of her face
for protection. The sound left her deaf for several minutes later, and
it was only after much time had passed and the rumbling had stopped,
that Videl lowered her bloodied arms.
Quickly, she assessed the damage - her large front window was gone,
and shards were scattered all over the front living room. Outside,
however, lay the real danger. Flames and smoke poured into her home,
filling the small space around her in a matter of seconds. Videl
coughed, kneeling down and making her way across the floor on her hands
and knees, trying to avoid cutting herself further and choking to
death. Her eyes watered, and she couldn't hear above the ringing in her
ears, yet she continued onward, making her way to the arched opening
leading into the hallway. She hurried towards Pan's room, praying that
her daughter had made it to some sort of safe shelter. Reaching for the
handle, she flung open the door to her daughter's room and looked
around inside.
Pan lay under a heavy bookcase, which had obviously fallen over from
the shaking. The girl had a trickle of blood coming from her mouth and
her eyes were shut. Videl panicked. Scurrying as fast as she could, and
using an inhuman strength, she managed to move the bookshelf easily off
of her daughter, and flung it aside, ignoring the tight constriction
within her chest as she took in the crumpled form of the little girl.
She touched Pan's neck gently, feeling for a pulse - it was there, and
still pounding strongly. The girl had only been knocked out. Had she
not been a half-breed human, her daughter probably would have been
killed by the heavy shelving when it landed on her. <Thank
Dende for her Saiya-jin heritage! >she breathed a sigh of
relief, and touched the small, pink cheek under her fingertips
tenderly.
"Pan, wake up," she pressed urgently, knowing that they were wasting
precious moments. "Can you hear me? Pan?"
She didn't dare move the girl, for fear of worsening any injuries. If
Pan could jolt herself out of unconsciousness, she would give her
mother an indication of what shape she was in, and whether she could be
moved safely. Videl placed her entire faith into that thought,
continuing to call out to her child.
Pan's eyelids fluttered and opened after a few seconds. Although she
could not hear the girl's voice, Videl watched as the small, pretty
mouth form the word "mother", and knew a moment of absolute relief. Pan
reached for her mother then, and Videl cradled the smaller body to her
own for a second, trying to control her shaking. Finally, she pulled
away, and pantomimed that she couldn't hear. Pan understood
immediately. She then noted the smoke coming in through the open door,
and grabbed Pan up in her arms tightly, heading back out into the
hallway, towards the front door. She tried to stay as close to the
ground as possible, but it was difficult while carrying someone, and
the two of them had to hold their breath until they were beyond it.
Videl reached the front door, threw it open, and staggered outside.
Her heart sank at the sight before her.
A ring of fire surrounded the house, burning at the forest on all
sides, trapping them in the center. The house continued to blaze, and
several seconds later, the roof collapsed inward. Flames shot up into
the sky, as if seeking Heaven itself. Videl knew a moment of absolute
terror and despair, and sank to her knees, feeling her impending doom
approaching.
Pan knew her mother's thoughts immediately, knew that the woman had
given up in the face of sure-death. However, Pan also knew that her mom
had momentarily forgotten, in her hysteria, that her daughter was
one-quarter Saiya-jin, and therefore, could fly.
The raven-haired child struggled out of her mother's tight grasp, and
then picked the woman up, without explaining her motives, and launched
herself into the sky. Videl screamed once, and her grasp tightened
around Pan's small fingers in a terror-stricken grip. Pan bit back the
pain, trying to keep her pounding head clear enough to concentrate on
flying away from the danger. It hurt to think, to move, to do anything
more than simply exist, but she forced herself to keep going.
She hadn't expected the bookshelf to fall on top of her - had been
unprepared for it, in fact. It had knocked her cold. All she remembered
was accidentally biting her tongue hard, a sudden stabbing against her
temples, and then utter blackness. Now, her head and neck hurt, but she
was trying very hard not to feel. It was difficult, but not impossible.
She just concentrated on her breathing, as her grandfather had
instructed her to in times of distress and panic. It worked rather
well, and Pan was able to move swiftly upward and away.
They passed through a thick cloud of black, roiling smoke for a few
seconds, but then were back into the refreshing, clean air of the
country-side, heading away from the disaster area. It was at that
moment that Pan spotted Trunks and her uncle approaching from the west.
She headed towards them, and all parties slowed when they neared each
other. Goten swooped down, and took Videl into his arms tightly, noting
the blood and blackened face instantly. Pan almost dropped of
exhaustion right there, but her stubbornness and determination kept her
from doing so. She wouldn't disgrace herself in such a manner.
"You alright?" Trunks asked her, concerned. She nodded wearily once,
but set her jaw tight. He returned the nod, knowingly, then took in the
situation. "We're going to need to put that fire out," he observed
calmly.
"Na no daaa!" Goten remarked, a little upset by Videl's condition, and
the destruction caused by the fire below. "Let me go take them to
safety, then I'll join you," he growled, reaching over to lift Pan up
by the scruff of her collar. She struggled and complained at first, but
Goten's harsh look shut her up quickly. He headed back the way he had
come for a few miles, intending on dropping his sister-in-law and niece
at a secure distance, while Trunks hurried towards the fire.
By the time Goten had returned to his friend's side, he saw that most
of the fire had been blown out by Trunks' ki energies.
He powered up into Super Saiya-jin, and joined him, adding his own
power to the effort. Within minutes, the entire fire had been
extinguished.
The two made their way over to what remained of Gohan's house. Goten
frowned, feeling a strange tugging in his heart at what he saw. "What a
mess," he murmured, stepping into the smoldering debris to look around.
Wisps of smoke circled around in the air, disappearing upwards into the
sky. He shook his head in disappointment, and started searching through
the wreckage for any belongings that might be salvageable. There were
very few.
Back at the Son household, the line that Chi Chi had been trying to
connect with suddenly went dead with a final "click". She took the
phone away from her ear, staring at it in confusion, then hung up.
Something was terribly wrong - she knew it. She had heard the
resounding explosion off in the far distance, and suddenly panicked.
She knew that the falling object had been heading in the direction of
her son's home, and sudden terrible thoughts plagued her mind. Picking
back up the receiver, she quickly dialed Uubu's house, hoping that
she'd reach Goku. After a few rings, the answering machine picked up,
and she left a terse message, explaining what she knew of the situation
and of her fears. Hanging up, she put the receiver back down on the
cradle, staring at it for a few minutes, considering what to do next.
Never a patient person, she found herself dialing Bulma's number next.
The woman answered after only two rings. <Probably home from
the lab early,> Chi Chi thought. <Thank goodness for
that!> In quick order, she explained things to her long-time
friend, and the two agreed that Bulma would go find Vegeta, and ask him
to go out to the crash site to check things out.
When she hung up, for the third time in as many minutes, Chi Chi moved
away from the phone altogether, and forced herself to sit down on the
couch to wait. She'd done all she could, and now, it was all up to
Bulma and Vegeta.
Somehow, that thought didn't ease her worries much.
Trunks left his friend to pick through his family's home for important
items that may have survived the fire. In truth, though, he was curious
to see if there was anything remaining of the spaceship that had caused
all of this destruction, so, still in Super Saiya-jin mode, he flew
towards where the ship might have crashed, wary of danger.
A giant crater had blasted into the side of the nearby mountain, and
dirt, rocks, pieces of metal and burned stumps of trees littered around
it for a good mile or more. The land had been simply leveled, and one,
sad thought came to him - there was no way that anyone could have
survived such a violent collision. He neared the edge of the crater
anyway, and looked down into it, curious.
Even from the lip of the hollow, Trunks could feel the intense heat
radiating from below, could see the materials that comprised the object
glow a brilliant scarlet, and smell the stench of charred and burned
plastic. There was some sort of strange crystalline structure
surrounding the melted front end, and that, in truth, was just about
the only thing that had remained recognizable; the rest of the bulk was
just a hunk of fused, twisted metal.
Trunks created a gentle pressure blast to force the heat to rise
quicker, thus allowing the ship to cool faster. He still wanted to
investigate what had happened, even if there wasn't much left to draw
conclusions from. Within ten minutes, the temperature was moderate
enough for him to float down into the center of the gulf. He dared not
touch anything yet, but he did manage to get a good view of the inside
of what appeared to be the cockpit region of the ship. It was,
amazingly, mostly intact. The view was fragmented through the crystal,
but clear enough for him to realize what he was looking at.
Inside, leaning over some sort of steering mechanism, was a lifeform.
The head was turned away, so he couldn't see its species or gender, but
it was undoubtedly humanoid, and obviously bipedal. Long,
strawberry-colored hair hung down across its back, fanning across the
inert form. Perhaps it was female then? Red blood dripped from
somewhere on its front, and headed down its clothed, limp arm, pooling
across the remains of the archaic instrumentation.
Trunks reached out cautiously and touched the crystalline composition.
It was cold and smooth, and seemed, interestingly enough, to be able to
repulse even his attempts at cracking it open. He gave up after several
minutes of trying to break through the barrier. Whatever it was, it had
acted as an effective shield, protecting the person inside against most
of the damage. There was a chance, then, that the creature might still
be alive.
An odd thought occurred to him then - he was sure that his mother
would love to get her hands on this technology. An image of her
wide-eyed excitement popped into his head for an instant, making him
smile.
The humanoid's body spasmed at that moment, drawing his attention back
to it. He tapped uneasily against the shield, hoping that it could hear
the sound and would become conscious once more. After a few light taps,
he hit harder. The creature inside moved again, and this time, he could
hear an audible groan. Backing a few feet away, he prepared an energy
ball in his right hand - just in case - and waited.
The thing moved again, this time, lifting its upper body from its
slumped position. Immediately, its hair shifted, creating a barrier
against him seeing its face clearly, and his frustration mounted a bit.
The lifeform coughed twice, and Trunks saw red, sanguine fluid spew
outward, to land on the controls in front of it. A bad sign, he was
sure.
It spoke then in a strange language, its voice low, garbled.
"Hey," he shouted, keeping his distance, hoping this person, or
whatever it was, would understand him. "You alright?"
"Shit!" Kei swore, feeling immediate stabbing pain all throughout her
body. She could tell, by the blood she was hacking up, that she had
serious internal injuries. That meant, she would die if she didn't get
medical attention soon. She put a hand to her head, hoping to contain
the wracking pounding inside.
"Just fraggin' great!" she complained, her voice slurring.
Talking hurt, and that was curious. She reached into her mouth,
touching at her tongue; it stung, and felt thick, swollen. She'd bitten
hard through some of the skin, but had, luckily, not taken any of it
off. "Could this day get any better?" she moaned, fighting a moment of
dizziness. She forced herself to feel the discomfort, to keep sharp, to
not give into the beckoning warmth of the darkness which swam before
her vision. Clenching her jaw, which hurt like hell to do, she put her
arms under her to support her weight, and summoned the strength to
move.
First priorities first - lower the shield, crawl out of this hunk of
junk, and then try to find some help, before she slowly bled to death.
Kei could think of other, more desirable ways, to meet the Makers,
therefore, she had no choice but to get going.
Survival, after all, was just a matter of instinct.
The person, clothed all in black and midnight blue body-armor, lifted
a small, peach-colored hand to its forehead, then to its face, and
spoke again in that strange guttural language. It moved slowly, very
slowly, towards some sort of button on the console, pushing it in.
Immediately, the crystalline structure seemed to fold in one itself and
disappear.
Trunks stepped back, hovering two feet in the air still; the energy
blast readied itself, steady in his hand. "Um, hey," he stammered, "can
you understand me? You don't look so good. Do you want help?"
The humanoid looked up then, blood dripping down its lovely features,
and Trunks gasped aloud, frozen in place, his one hand still holding
the glowing ki ball without thought.
A human woman stared back at him, her deep, blue eyes filled with her
own surprise, and a strange, dawning wonderment.
Kei looked up through half-lidded, pain-filled eyes, to take in the
sight before her. The creature that she had half-heard utter something
through her fogged brain, stood about ten feet from her, floating above
the ground, bathed in a brilliant golden light.
<Is he an Angel?> she thought, amazed, wondering if
she was really seeing this, or if this was all some delusion created by
her wounded brain.
Angels, according to her people, were legendary creatures that had
lived on her world long ago. Mysterious, secluded, and yet powerful,
they claimed to have been related to the Gods directly. They were said
to be taller than any Mycenean, and constantly surrounded by a golden,
electrifying aura. Their eyes were the blue-green of the deepest
tropical waters, and their hair and tails were made of
guldenite. Supposedly, they had left her world a
thousand years earlier, without a word as to where they went, or why
they were going. They had just simply vanished one day, leaving very
little behind to mark their passing, and since that time, whole
religions were based around the covenant that they would return one
day, to rule Myce justly, bringing an era of peace with them.
Although Kei had never been a believer before, she suddenly found it
possible that there may be some truth to the legends after all. This
creature _definitely_ looked as an Angel should.
Maybe it wasn't so farfetched a faith as she had thought...
Yet, as she scrutinized him more closely, she became convinced that
she had been right to begin with - this creature could not be an
Angel.
For one, this creature didn't have a tail. Secondly, it wasn't tall
enough - in fact, it was close to her own height, maybe only two inches
taller. And finally, it's hair was definitely not made of
guldenite. Kei had held some of the stuff between her
fingers once, and it was so soft that there was no possible way that
this being's unruly, stiff hair could be made of one of the most
precious substances in the known galaxy. No, this being absolutely
could not be an Angel.
So, what was it then?
Maybe it was related to an Angel? She didn't know, but there was only
one way to find out. Moving cautiously, trying to blink back the stars
before her vision, she reached out her hands, open and palm downward,
to show that she meant no harm. It took every bit of energy she had to
remain standing, and conscious at that moment. She gritted back the
pain, and took a deep breath.
"I mean you no harm," she said, feeling rather stupid by using such a
corny line. "See? I'm unarmed." Her tongue was heavy in her mouth, and
her words came out strange to her ears. Blood dripped into her vision,
too, but she didn't dare brush it away, partially out of fear, and
partially out of some strange instinct, which told her that taking her
eyes off of the being could prove deadly. She let the vital fluid drip
into her eyes, and down her cheeks, and fought back at the stabbing
pain which exploded behind in her head, choking down on a cough that
threatened to come from deep inside.
She took a small, hesitant step forward, and the creature raised an
arm. A glowing ball of energy radiated in that hand, held in check
there. Kei froze, all of her sensations prickling and at attention. It
was so very hard to concentrate, but she managed to barely do so. She
tried again, talking softly to it.
"I won't hurt you," she said, keeping her arms wide and open.
"I...need help. Can you help me?"
Trunks watched the young woman carefully, listening to her strange
voice, trying to place the language. He couldn't, and finally had to
admit that he didn't understand a dammed word she had said. Every
indication, however, was that she was trying to show him that she meant
no harm. He narrowed his eyes, taking in her state, knowing that there
was no way that she could possibly hurt him. In the first place, he
sensed very little ki from her, and secondly, she was
badly wounded; she'd probably need medical attention soon, he figured.
Weighing the pros and the cons, he finally came to a decision.
Dropping out of Super Saiya-jin mode, he floated over to her, and
reached out a hand for her to take.
Kei's eyes widened in disbelief as she watched this creature's outer
appearance suddenly change.
<It's not possible,> she thought, suddenly awed.
<All of the changelings are dead! >Yet, here was
direct proof in front of her. She saw the golden aura disappear,
watched as the spiked hair lay flat, turning an odd purplish-color. The
eyes changed from teal to a pale blue, and the skin took on a
complexion closely related to her own. What was most surprising to her,
however, was that the "Angel's" body suddenly seemed to shrink, growing
into proportions closely resembling the males of her own world.
She realized that she had made a terrible mistake.
This being was a changeling - one of the Genmis,
thought to have been completely obliterated fifty years earlier by a
terrible plague which had struck their homeworld. This enlightened, and
much-cultured allied race had been believed to be extinct - a great
loss to the entire galaxy, to be sure. Yet, here was one in front of
her who displayed their powers, proving that they obviously weren't all
dead.
She may never have seen a Genmis in person, but Kei, like any Hunter,
knew the stories about them. What she witnessed was close enough to
what she had learned to draw this conclusion. In fact, it also nicely
explained why she believed it to be an Angel in the beginning; it had
obviously taken on an Angel's appearance, in the hopes of putting up a
good front - in case of danger.
<Pretty clever.>
The changeling held out its hand to her, and Kei hesitantly reached
for it, feeling her breath quicken as she looked up into the creature's
beautiful eyes. Was this the Genmis' real form then? she idly wondered.
She had always heard that they were an ugly race - short, with blunted
digits, but as she stared, she found that she couldn't believe such a
rumor anymore. Surely, someone had been wrong...
When their palms touched, Kei felt a spark of energy move through her
body, riding on every nerve ending all at once. Blackness swirled in
front of her sight, overpowering her this time, and she lost herself in
it.
As she fell into the bottomless darkness, Kei's last thoughts were of
how warm the changeling's body was against hers.
TO BE CONTINUED.....
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AUTHOR'S NOTES:
Well, I hope you enjoyed this first part to this brand-new crossover
series.
For those of you who recognized the references, yes, The
Replicants are the band for Priss Agasari from "BubbleGum
Crisis" and the hot, new singer they had brought on-board was, indeed,
Priss herself.
For those "Fushigi Yuugi" fans out there, I included
THTC as well, since they are the group made up of the
lead male voice actors for the characters Tamahome, Hotohori, Tasuki
and Chichri (thus the name of the group is taken from the first letters
of their names...na no daaaa!!!), and F.Y. is my absolute favorite
anime (second only to Dragonball Z, of course). Therefore, I had to
throw 'em into the mix.
Some people asked me why I chose to cross "Iria: Zeiram" with the
"Dragonball" universe, and my answer was pretty simple - when I saw Kei
from "Iria", I immediately thought of a Toriyama character design (with
her spiky, red hair that sticks straight up like a Saiya-jin's would).
Since I'm an avid "Dragonball" nutcase, I thought it would be fun and
challenging to somehow introduce her to some of the best-beloved
characters from this series.
The "Iria" universe offers a LOT of authors the chance for some
creative tinkering (since there's not much info. out there available
about it), and I generally enjoyed the series (minus the beginning
music, which I felt could have been more exciting). "Dragonball" is a
little harder to fit crossovers into without ruining continuity and
trashing established character personalities. I hope that I managed to
at least pull crossing the two stories off well enough to keep you
interested, and wanting to read a second part...
What do you think? I can take it, so go ahead and fire away.
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it so far. Look for part 2 to come in a few
weeks. In the interium, go ahead and read my second "Dragonball" fic,
called "Can We Start Over?" featuring Mirai Son Gohan. Part one is
available currently.
E-mail me for a copy at: jmondazzi@mail.arc.nasa.gov
"Dragonball" is the copyright of Akira Toriyama/Bird Studios/Toei
Animation/Sueisha, and the copyright, 1996-97 of FUNmation/Saban
Entertainment, all rights reserved.
"Iria: Zeiram the Animation" is copyright, 1994 Crowd/Bandai
Visual/Mitsubishi Corp./Banpresto, and copyright, 1995 Central Park
Media Corporation, all rights reserved.
All other characters and situations are the property of this author,
copyright 1997.