Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Barracks ❯ Part 22 ( Chapter 22 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: chayron 
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Adventure / Hentai / Sci-fi / Angst | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 05.14.2011 | Pages: 4 | Words: 6.5K | Visits: 346 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Adventure / Hentai / Sci-fi / Angst | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 05.14.2011 | Pages: 4 | Words: 6.5K | Visits: 346 | Status: Work In Progress
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.
<b>Barracks</b>
by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by quatreofdoom
Part 22
The sky was already growing dark when the prince was running his fifteenth lap around the base. Most savars were already in their barracks, their stomachs concentrated on digesting the last of their dinner. The prince wasn’t tired yet, but he could already feel that, in five or so more laps, this was going to become a very strenuous task. He cursed softly under his breath, remembering that Goten made thirty laps under the scorching sun without too much difficulty. His stamina was lagging behind Goten's.
The shaii looked at the shyu running next to him. The second-class was breathing steadily, not showing any signs of weariness. When the prince had decided that he wanted to regain the form he had before becoming an officer, where his main exercise consisted of pushing piles of documents from one corner of his desk to another, he knew it was going to be boring to do it alone. Getting up with the savars and running around with them was out of the question, thus he turned to the man he most interacted with – his shyu.
The older male had seemed surprised at first, but agreed without any reluctance. In fact, he even seemed eager to take up the running, exercises, and spars. They had already been doing this for nearly two weeks. The shyu hadn’t questioned why he had suddenly thrown himself into training, and the prince was very content with that. He could not imagine how the shyu would react if he said that it was because he was competing with a third-class.
It was not that he really felt inferior to Goten although the third-class’s strength surpassed that of an average elite’s. Goten’s fighting skills were formidable. Not to mention that his ki could rival that of five elites’ put together. However, that spar with Goten had made him feel rusty. He wanted to be at his best when he sparred with the third-class the next time. There was another thing, though – it seemed that Goten’s strength, speed, and power were rising. Goten was still not fully capable of controlling his ki, but during their encounter with the thieves, he had demonstrated that he was more than capable of causing damage with it. Deadly damage.
The shyu stopped running first. He slowed down, panting loudly, and sat down on the cooling asphalt to rest. He was no match for an elite, even if that elite lacked stamina. The prince stopped running an hour later and they both went to the training hall. The prince already felt sluggish and thought that maybe it would have been better if he had stopped earlier.
The training hall could be divided into ten enclosed blocks by lowering a series of tempered steel walls down from the ceiling. In the evenings, there were almost always people sparring or just practicing their moves in separate cubicles. Most of them were second-years, preparing for their upcoming fighting and stamina tests, but there was also a handful of officers who were either honing their skills or were making sure the hall wouldn’t be torn down by over-enthusiastic youngsters.
During the past few days, the prince had been using those officers as sparring partners. To put it mildly, sparring with the shyu alone was not very challenging – the man had skill and speed, but only for a second-class. The prince usually ended up sparring with one of the experienced elite officers. Last time, no elite officers came and he had to resort to sparring with two elite trainees. The second-years were better than they looked and he had nearly paid for his conceitedness.
The training hall was purposely lined with ki-absorbing material, but Saiyans rarely sparred using their ki; it was dangerous and was bound to cause serious injuries if one of the sparring partners breached another’s ki-shield. When they did spar with ki, though, they wore heavy armor for protection.
Today, the prince wanted to spar using his ki. He had personally requested one of the most capable elite lecturers in ki-attacks, Ardema Tayera, to be his partner. He was a man in the prime of his life, working as a trainer giving practice lessons on ki-based fighting. When the shaii entered the training hall, he was already putting his armor on. The prince walked over to the bench the lecturer was standing by and looked at the armor which the trainer had chosen for him.
It was one of the newest armors on the market. There were only a few sets on the base. He had a set in his wardrobe back at his barracks, but it had been specially made for him and was marked with the royal symbol of flame. He preferred not to wear it as it made him feel like he was showing off. Maybe after they ordered more of those armors for the base, he would wear his own as well.
The new armor was very expensive, but it was favored by many. First, it was much lighter than common Saiyan armor. Second, it was made of an elastic material which could withstand physical attacks just as well as solid metal armor. Third, the elastic material could be stretched to some extent, enabling warriors of different builds to wear it. Fourth, instead of scalding the wearer by absorbing heat from ki, it stayed fairly cool; the surface would get hot, but the warmth was slowly diffused into the environment.
The prince finished buckling the armor on, then started attaching the shoulder pieces. The armor was red and yellow, rather than the more common blue and yellow, and the shaii sighed mentally, imagining the overall picture it was painting when combined with his lavender-colored hair and khaki trousers. He was a walking rainbow.
“Whenever you are ready, sir,” Ardema said, watching the prince finish donning his armor.
He sounded somewhat impatient and, with a sudden twinge of jealousy, the shaii wondered if the man had to postpone a date with his lover because of his request to spar. It was common knowledge on the base that Ardema and one of the recently transferred officers had found a mutual interest in each other. Or maybe he was simply eager for the spar although it didn’t show on his face.
The shaii nodded. Sighing, he picked up the white gloves; an additional color for his rainbow. Pulling them on, he started walking towards the empty seventh sector. He pulled a lever on the wall and a block slid out of the ceiling to enclose the space. They did a few warm up exercises, gathering and dispersing their ki, then walked towards the middle of the sector where they stood facing each other.
The prince powered up first and flew towards Ardema. Ardema blocked his punch and kicked out with his leg, but the prince was airborne, no longer there. Ardema jumped back to avoid a scorching blast which whooshed right past him and thumped into the ground, sparks flaring up all over the floor. He raised his head and blasted up into the air as well, where he and the prince engaged in close combat.
The prince’s back slammed into the wall after his defense failed and Ardema’s foot connected with his chest. The armor absorbed the brunt of the kick, so it didn’t hurt much, but he could feel that he had left a considerable dent in the wall. A fully-powered Ardema was scary.
The prince half-flew, half-scrambled away from the wall to dodge the oncoming blast. It missed his left side by only an inch. Distracted by the blast, he was just in time to block the kick Ardema aimed at his face. The prince twisted his body aside, grabbed the man’s leg and launched a blast at his chest, sending him tumbling backwards into the floor. Ardema raised his arms to block the next blaze of ki which engulfed him before he could get to his feet.
The prince was panting lightly. The flash faded and it appeared that Ardema was not where he had been a second ago. The lecturer was wisely not giving him many opportunities to use his superior ki to his advantage. All the shaii was managing were half-churned out ki-blasts without much power behind them.
The shaii blocked the lecturer’s blast. Then, to avoid the oncoming physical attack, he dropped down and rolled over, kicking the man in the stomach and sending him headfirst into the wall. Ardema managed to catch himself on his hands at the last moment. He pushed himself off the wall and flew back at the prince. He dodged a blast and rammed his foot in the prince’s stomach, tossing him backwards. The prince hit the wall behind him, then flared his ki up to soften Ardema’s oncoming blast. The next blast, he simply batted away. He saw Ardema giving him a perplexed look; while emanating such a strong field of ki, he was practically invincible. The man was wondering how he was supposed to get around it.
Nonetheless, the prince soon found out that Ardema was a resourceful man, worthy of his reputation. The lecturer started flitting all over the room, bombarding him with ki-blasts. They hardly had any effect on him, but they were distracting. Ardema managed to land a few solid hits on him, the last one sending him crashing into the floor where his ki left a large imprint. Shooting upwards out of the hole, the prince was just in time to connect his face with Ardema’s foot. While his body was being slammed back into the hole, he thought that Goten was right – his defense sucked.
He had to give it to Ardema – the man was truly masterful and he could hardly compare to him. But while acknowledging Ardema’s skill, the prince, fevered with the fight and adrenaline, wanted to win, even if it was only with sheer power.
Their session quickly started taking its toll on Ardema’s energy. He was getting tired and slower and his body was generating less and less ki. The prince powered up to his maximum and attacked Ardema at full speed, looking for openings and using them when found. Soon it was over, Ardema raising his hand in defeat.
They nodded at each other respectfully. The prince pulled the lever again, raising the wall, and they left sector seven. They dropped their heavy bodies on one of the benches and started unbuckling their armor.
“I’d like to do this again,” the shaii said, feeling awkward. Now that the passion of the fight had dissipated, he felt as if he had cheated the man. He wiped at his sweating forehead.
Ardema gave him a look and the prince felt even more uncomfortable. “Alright, sir,” Ardema nodded after a few seconds, “but there isn’t much point in it for you. I’m no match against that amount of ki.”
“Err…yes,” the prince agreed. “However, you are my best and only option.”
“I see.”
Silently, they took their armor off. The prince was thinking that he would like to see Goten’s ki-fighting abilities. He had seen him defeat those thieves, but that was only because Goten had used his excessive ki to overwhelm them. He wondered what Goten would do if faced with an opponent in a similar category. He wanted to spar with Goten, but it was dangerous while the third-class wasn’t fully capable of controlling his ki. One thing he feared was that Goten’s ki would never become stable. That would be a grand waste.
<center>ooOoOoOoo</center>
The shaii woke up to the sound of the sirens blaring. It took him a second to orient himself, then, tripping over his scattered boots on the floor, he shot to the window to look outside. It was not even dawn yet.
The alarm soon died and microphones screeched: “Attention. A state of emergency. Everyone, go outside and form columns on the training field.”
His mind reeling, thinking about the worst situation possible, the prince rushed to his wardrobe. An attack, it finally started, the war everyone had been dreading. The situation among the confederates had been getting less and less stable. War had broken out.
The prince cursed softly in the darkness when he tripped on his boots again. On his way, he flipped the light switch on, then grabbed his uniform and started pulling it on. Which one was attacking? Ice-jins or Leiadors? Or, hopefully, an unknown enemy?
Once the prince had his boots on, he rushed outside. The mish-mash of savars and officers soon formed into neat rows, and he joined the nearest column of officers. The nervous air of apprehension was clinging to all men.
The microphones screeched again. “All savars and officers, form seven columns.”
There was a bout of sudden confusion, but soon seven columns stood on the field.
“Spread out. Now turn to face the dawn.”
Men thinned out and turned towards the rising sun.
“Good. Now salute the morning, take your clothes off, and let’s have an orgy!”
The microphone died, and the field was completely silent for a few seconds. At that point, the shaii realized that the voice he had heard through the microphone, even if muffled, had sounded very familiar. Then he and the officers around him started looking at each other. Most of them started cursing, others had already issued commands for the nearest savars to go to the headquarters where the microphones were. About ten officers headed the same way.
The shaii turned to the columns of savars to see some of them laughing, others, just as the officers, cursing. Then, as suspected, some savars broke into a run for their barracks. Soon he could count over fifty of them running. They had to disperse before the officers ordered them to stay and issued a roll-call. If they did, it would be as easy as pie to track down the missing culprits.
The prince crossed his arms and glared in the general direction of the running savars. He was so relieved that it had been a false alarm that he had no strength left to be angry. He knew perfectly well that Goten was among those who were running for their barracks; he must have recognized the voice as well. The prince didn’t know what Toharu was thinking, but he was going to have his ass tossed out of the School for this. If anyone caught the idiot, of course.
<center>ooOoOoOoo</center>
For an entire day, the whole base had been buzzing non-stop about the prank. To the savars’ joy and amusement, the perpetrator had not been caught. On the other hand, the officers were angry and frustrated with the failure to get any information about the person responsible for the misdemeanor and decided that they were going to punish all the savars by not giving them food.
It had more or less worked as planned as now half of the base was angry with the perpetrator, while the other half was angry with the officers. Nonetheless, nobody had stepped forward and named the bastard.
The prince toyed with the idea of calling Goten to his office and making him admit that it had been Toharu. He had no idea how he would make Goten give Toharu away. He simply liked the thought of putting Goten on the hot seat. He could imagine him stuttering and stammering and then finally admitting everything. Not that Goten would stammer or admit anything. He would probably swear, with a serious look on his face, that he had been celebrating Christmas on the other side of the planet when the prankster woke everyone up. Not that Goten knew what Christmas was.
The shaii sighed, deflated. He shuffled the case files on his desk, then picked up his phone and rang the taisa’s secretary, asking for Toharu Amatachinna to be sent to his office this instant.
He didn’t need to wait for long. In a few minutes, the microphone screeched, announcing that Toharu was being called to his office to the entire base. In another few minutes, he heard someone’s steps in the corridor.
Toharu knocked, entered the office, closed the door, walked forward, stopped in front of the shaii’s desk, and saluted. “Sir.”
“At ease,” the prince said, motioning at the empty chair in front of his desk. “Sit down.”
There was a large ugly bruise under Toharu’s left eye and the prince briefly wondered whose gift it was. Otherwise, Toharu didn’t look particularly nervous. He was one of those who never seemed anxious, taking everything in stride. He was very different from Goten who had a tendency to fuss about nonsensical things.
Despite the shiner under his eye and the fact that he was shorter than most Saiyans, Toharu was a very handsome man. He was one who looked slender in clothing but was bulky without. Toharu was also never reluctant to use his looks to get what he wanted.
Toharu was giving off some kind of strange vibe. The prince could detect nothing in his posture, gestures, or voice, but it was there, lurking beneath the surface. It was probably some kind of scent, the prince thought. Since he wasn't very good with scents, he couldn't be certain, but it seemed that instead of being worried, Toharu was rather irked by him.
The thing the prince was certain about was that Ario was right behind the office door, skipping his lectures. Both of them came as a package – if you wanted one, you also got the other. He had to admit that, to some extent, he felt jealous of their bond.
The prince opened his drawer and pulled out a large file. He tossed it on his desk, right in front of Toharu’s face, where it landed with a loud whoosh and a slap.
“If not for this, I’d toss you out.”
Wordlessly, Toharu reached out to take the file and opened it. He seemed to recognize it instantly. Without reading it any further, he closed it and put it back onto the desk. He gave the shaii a quizzical look. “Sir?”
“Why did you do it?”
“I lost a bet, sir. That’s all.”
Toharu admitted everything at once, but the calm and challenging ‘that’s all’ made the prince want to hit him. Nonetheless, he decided it was not worth the trouble; he hated writing reports. “What kind of a bet?” he asked.
For a moment, Toharu looked uncomfortable, then something shifted in his eyes. “I bet that Ranvera would have Goten by this week. I lost, apparently,” he said with a soft smile on his lips.
Startled, the prince tried to discern any malice in Toharu’s voice, but couldn’t. The tables had turned and he suddenly felt that Toharu had him cornered. His presence of mind was telling him that, even if there had been a bet, it had had nothing to do with Goten. Toharu was testing him.
Alarmed, he watched the second-class, waiting for more comments or body-language indicators to let him read the other male. But no, he was over thinking this. Toharu would surely not dare to imply what he thought he was implying. Or would he…? Did the second-class really suspect that he had some lingering affection for Goten?
The prince found that he could not say anything to that. Provided that Toharu knew about his feelings, he had better accept Toharu’s reproach and suck it up like a man. Nonetheless, when the prince opened his mouth, his brain decided that if he could say nothing in his defense, then this was the best time to attack.
“A ‘<i>friendly</i>’ bet, so to speak?” he challenged and, by the way Toharu’s nostrils flared, he could guess that the attack had been successful; Toharu knew what was to come. “According to these documents, you and Ario had been conscripted even before Goten’s arrival,” he said, feeling like a complete asshole, but not even thinking about stopping.
“Yes, sir. To make sure no harm comes to him.”
The prince’s lips quirked up. “Not an easy task, is it? He always ends up in the medical bay.” By the way Toharu’s eyes flashed, he could guess that the younger male would like to give him a piece of his mind. This was another sensitive spot. “You’re from the same paramilitary school as Goten, right?” the prince continued.
“Yes, sir,” Toharu said, his eyes two smoldering charcoals.
“Does Ranvera or Kyon know that you’re watching Goten and reporting to the taisa?”
“Of course not, sir.”
The prince watched the second-class thoughtfully. He had tampered with Toharu’s pride and feelings and, obviously, the second-class was not happy about it. He was rather ashamed of his own behavior as he knew that, very likely, Toharu was just worried about the damage he could do to Goten if he acted on his desires. Toharu was protective of his friend. He didn't have to worry though, as Goten had already shown more self-preservation skills than anyone thought he had.
“Get him here,” the shaii said, motioning with his head at the door. “Your… Ario.”
“Yes, sir,” Toharu complied, getting up from his chair and walking over to the door. “Ario, come in here,” he said after opening it.
Ario’s impressive build filled the room. “Sir?”
“Make sure he doesn’t do something like this again,” the shaii warned. “This is the last time I’m letting you off.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I’ve been working on it already,” Ario said, glaring at Toharu who dropped his gaze to his boots, not meeting his lover’s eyes.
The shaii watched the exchange wistfully, realizing that it had been Ario who had adorned Toharu’s face with bright colors. He had guessed right – it was Ario who was the voice of reason in their union.
“We are very grateful, sir,” Ario repeated, and, as if nudged in the ribs, Toharu raised his head to nod at the prince.
Mesmerized by the sheer amount of influence Ario had over Toharu, the shaii returned the nod. “Dismissed,” he said.
Both savars saluted. “Yes, sir.”
Once they left, the prince rose from his chair and walked over to the window to watch Ario and Toharu exit the building. His eyes followed their backs until they entered the auditoriums. After that, he returned to his desk and pulled another file out of the drawer. This one was five times as thick as Toharu’s. With both hands, he lowered it onto the table.
He sat and stared at the cover of the file. It was only a copy, but it took a month, a few connections with higher-ups, and about ten phone calls to acquire it without setting National Security on his trail. Now that he finally had it, he was excited but at the same time reluctant to read it. He was apprehensive of what he could find out. With a hand slightly trembling with impatience, he reached out to open the cover.
Three hours and a half later, he turned the last page. After that, he read the first page anew, then closed the file and leaned back into his chair. It was evening already. Now he had most of the answers to his questions, like why Goten was on the base, why Goten differed from a common third-class, and why there had been so many accidents involving Goten.
The shaii rocked in his chair while staring at the ceiling and the stains he had become so familiar with. He wondered if he should tell everything to Goten and finally bring peace to the third-class’s mind. It would stop the third-class from being paranoid but, on the other hand, he doubted if this would bring much peace to Goten’s mind – there was nothing Goten could change.
In the end, knowing that Goten’s father was arriving soon, the prince decided not to interfere and leave Goten the opportunity to hear everything from his parent. A few days of waiting would make no difference, he was sure of that.
<center>ooOoOoOoo</center>
“Seeing as you’re still alive, I’ll presume you have fucked someone to stay so. Or at least gave them oral.”
Toharu raised his head to look at Ranvera. He, Goten, and Kyon were taking places at the table while setting their plates down.
“I wanted to, but Ario was against it,” Toharu muttered without a spark in his voice.
His lack of enthusiasm was met with worried faces.
“What did he say?” Goten asked.
“Nothing much,” Ario answered instead of his lover. “Just that it was the last time he let us off.”
Relieved, Goten shrugged and now his attention hit the food on his plate with full force. He started scrambling up spoonfuls of noodles into his mouth. “He’s a good guy, even too good,” he deduced, munching. “Were I in his shoes, I’d have kicked you out.”
“Good guy, my ass!” Toharu snorted, pushing his empty plate away. “He n-”
“Toharu, babe,” Ario interrupted him, “he was the one to spare your sorry ass, so tune it down.”
“I was wondering,” Goten said, shoveling some more noodles into his mouth. “Why exactly did you do it? I mean, really. I know you’re not right in the head, but that was a little too much even for you.”
Apathetic, Toharu sighed. “I lost a drinking contest.”
Kyon gasped. “You? No way!”
Toharu sipped his tea mournfully. “Yeah, shocking, isn’t it? So I lost and she made sure I fulfilled the promise.”
“She?”
Toharu’s face was one big rumbling cloud. “Yeah, Almanda.”
“Oh! The ringleader!” Goten laughed, thumping his hand onto the table in amusement, spitting out some noodles in the process. “Yeah, she can hold her liquor like no other.”
“For fuck’s sake, Goten, stop being a pig!” Kyon said, whacking him on the head. He raised his hand again threateningly.
“Alright, alright, stop it,” Goten said, picking up the noodles off the table and lowering them next to his plate.
Toharu glared at the third-class. “I’d have appreciated this piece of information a few days ago.”
Goten shrugged. “Well, you were also present when we got our kitchen duty for life. You should have noticed.” The third-class took a gulp of his tea. “Anyway, how did he realize it was you?”
“He never said. But I think, exactly like you – he recognized my voice. Damn, and I thought I was being so careful!”
“Hmm…” Goten hummed into his mug. “You weren’t being careful, you were being an idiot.”
“Yeah,” Ranvera agreed. “Couldn’t you just come up with something like ‘if I lose, I’ll kiss your feet or ass’? Even if she's an elite, she’s one hot lady. Some rimming would have been in order!”
“All’s well that ends well,” Goten said, ignoring Ranvera, who was now suffering from lack of attention as no one was paying him any.
“Toharu, you sure he isn’t blackmailing you?” Kyon asked.
“And what would you do if he is?” Ario chuckled.
Kyon grinned at him. “If it’s sex, I’d want to switch places. He could blackmail me all he wants.”
“Damn,” Ranvera shook his head, “are you sure it’s Goten, who is interested in him? Methinks Kyon is head over heels in love with our prince.”
“Nah,” Toharu said, “it’s just that you're not satisfying him enough; he’s suffering from sexual frustration.”
Ranvera gave him the finger.
“Oh lookie, Goten is not denying that he’s interested in him!”
Goten turned to give Kyon an apathetic look. “There’s no point. The more I deny, the more you believe the opposite.”
“Oh c’mon, Goten,” Ranvera sighed, “humor us. We are bored. We want some gossip.”
“Why the hell do I have to be your personal clown?”
Toharu saluted him with his empty mug of tea. “Because you’re extremely good at it.”
Goten glared at him. “And to think that, ten minutes ago, I was worried that you’d be kicked out.”
“That’s nice of you, but I’m more interested in what you’re going to do about the prince.”
Goten rolled his eyes at Toharu. “You know, you could think of something else. This is getting old.”
“I’m serious, Goten. You should’ve seen his face when I said I did this because I lost a bet where I put my money on Ranvera having you by the end of this week.”
“You said what?”
“Shit, don’t involve me in your games! He hates me enough already!”
“Don’t you think your joke has gone too far?”
“We are going to have a talk once we are back in our room.”
<center>ooOoOoOoo</center>
Abashed, Goten stared at the ceiling. He shifted in his bunk uncomfortably, suppressing a moan. He wished for his morning wood to disappear faster. Everybody else was still asleep in their beds.
Goten lifted his hands into the air, twirled them around absentmindedly, then dropped them on his face and gave it a good rub. The raging hard-on didn’t bother him – he was young and sexually frustrated and he was aware of that. It was the reason for it that was bothering him. He could still see that exotic tail waving before his eyes. Purple, with a white fluff at the end. And eyes, blue leering eyes. And then a lot of naked body, skin, caresses and kisses and…
Goten gritted his teeth and closed his eyes tightly. It didn’t make the images disappear, instead making them even more vivid. He opened them again to continue to glare at the ceiling. He could hear that particular whooshing sound created by the sand grinding against the protective shields somewhere above.
He rarely had dreams of this nature, at least he did not remember that he did. In the cases he had, usually they were only flares of lust towards formless blotches of bare unidentified skin his mind would conjure. He almost never dreamed about real people. Nonetheless, the dream he just had was very vivid and detailed. The imprint of the shaii’s office and the furniture was still clear.
Disturbed, Goten huffed. His bastard friends had instilled this into his head. Talking and talking about his and the prince’s non-existent relationship non-stop. It was no wonder he had even started dreaming about the man. Anyone would become self-conscious after all those endless insinuations. They were going to make him lust after the prince, the idiots.
He didn’t want this at all. How was he going to look the prince in the eyes?
Luckily, he didn’t need to. The fiery sandstorm raging outside lasted for three days. Due to a heavy concentration of sand particles in the air, the savars spent their days in the auditoriums and the training hall. The evenings were spent in barracks without setting their feet outside. The windows were all closed, the air stale, the savars sluggish and sleepy.
By the time Goten saw the shaii again, he had already forgotten most of that dream. He had a few others, though. Those ones he did not want to think about or even admit that he had ever had them.
<center>ooOoOoOoo</center>
On Monday, the shaii could be found staring at his computer screen. He stared at it daily, but the expression his face was wearing now was rarely to be seen. He lifted his eyes off the screen and concentrated them on the shyu who entered his office, carrying a sheaf of documents in his hands.
“Sir, these are for you to sign,” the shyu said, walking over and putting the documents on the prince’s desk. “The taisa has already gone through them and signed as well.”
The shaii nodded. Indicating that he was going to start looking over them immediately, he patted the pile with his hand. “Thank you, you may go.”
“Yes, sir.”
Once his subordinate left, the shaii’s eyes returned to the screen of his computer. He scrolled the results back upwards until Goten’s picture appeared. He had decided to check Goten’s profile once again in the School’s database. Nothing had changed much, except that Goten had suddenly been turned into a second-class. If Goten had previously been registered as a third-class, now there was not a sign of his real class. Even his father, brother, and grandparents had been turned into second-classes. The shaii could bet his arm that now he would find exactly the same information in the national database and even in the previous schools Goten had attended. Currently, the only proofs left that Goten was a third-class were his father’s profile and the handwritten sources.
Nevertheless, this was predictable. The prince wondered why this hadn’t been done before Goten had entered the base. The most plausible reason was that National Security hadn’t been sure if Goten would be worth the effort. Keeping in mind all the times the third-class managed to get into trouble, they probably had thought that they should wait and see.
Deciding to leave it be, the shaii scrolled the mouse downwards. Goten’s sudden jump up the social ladder didn’t concern him in the least. In fact, he was even glad. Now there was no danger about the information leaking out to the other savars.
But he had not started checking Goten’s profile for this information. He had had something else in mind. What he was more interested in were Goten’s grades. The third-class had come to Hataro Officer Training School with extraordinarily good grades. However, during his time at School, they had dropped to average or even below average. About a week ago, he had also completely and utterly failed his test on ki-guns.
Humming under his breath, one by one, the prince opened Goten’s friends’ profiles. There was exactly the same tendency. All of their grades had plummeted although Kyon got an A on the same ki-gun test which Goten had failed.
The lavender-haired man scratched the back of his head. It was obvious that their grades were suffering because of the kitchen duty. Goten had also spent a lot of time at the medical bay. He had expected that once Goten’s nightly duty of peeling potatoes was over, he would catch up with everyone. However, the failure in his test was telling him that this wasn’t so. The prince, though, had hope that Goten simply didn’t like ki-guns. But whether Goten liked them or not, Goten and his friends’ grades were somewhat concerning him. As long as they kept passing tests and exams, they were alright, but constant failures might result in them getting expelled. Or even worse, people would start asking questions about why Goten was not getting expelled, because the prince doubted that he would. National Security seemed to be keen on giving him an officer’s education. Gods only knew why, because with the power Goten had, his brain was an expendable asset. As far as National Security interests were concerned, it was much easier to manipulate brainless brutes.
The shaii checked the date of the make-up test on ki-guns. He sighed; it was in four days. He started drumming his fingers on the desk, not sure what to do. He thought for a few minutes, then decided that, if Kyon and Goten would not think of combining their powers themselves, in a day or two he was going to have a talk with them. Just to make sure Goten passed that damn test.
<center>ooOoOoOoo</center>
His father was late. He was late by two whole weeks. No messages and no phone calls either. Goten had already started thinking that this was just another way to buy some time. He had clearly felt that his father was not looking forward to explaining the situation. Maybe he was just avoiding him. This was angering him, but all he could do was to wait while gritting his teeth in silent frustration.
On Thursday, the message came that the spaceship his father was on had disappeared a week ago. There were five other spaceships missing which had taken the same route that day. It was not clear whether the ships were hijacked or destroyed. They had simply disappeared.
TBC
Warnings: Alternate Universe. Yaoi (male x male). Goten x Trunks and vice versa. Other pairings.
<b>Barracks</b>
by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by quatreofdoom
Part 22
The sky was already growing dark when the prince was running his fifteenth lap around the base. Most savars were already in their barracks, their stomachs concentrated on digesting the last of their dinner. The prince wasn’t tired yet, but he could already feel that, in five or so more laps, this was going to become a very strenuous task. He cursed softly under his breath, remembering that Goten made thirty laps under the scorching sun without too much difficulty. His stamina was lagging behind Goten's.
The shaii looked at the shyu running next to him. The second-class was breathing steadily, not showing any signs of weariness. When the prince had decided that he wanted to regain the form he had before becoming an officer, where his main exercise consisted of pushing piles of documents from one corner of his desk to another, he knew it was going to be boring to do it alone. Getting up with the savars and running around with them was out of the question, thus he turned to the man he most interacted with – his shyu.
The older male had seemed surprised at first, but agreed without any reluctance. In fact, he even seemed eager to take up the running, exercises, and spars. They had already been doing this for nearly two weeks. The shyu hadn’t questioned why he had suddenly thrown himself into training, and the prince was very content with that. He could not imagine how the shyu would react if he said that it was because he was competing with a third-class.
It was not that he really felt inferior to Goten although the third-class’s strength surpassed that of an average elite’s. Goten’s fighting skills were formidable. Not to mention that his ki could rival that of five elites’ put together. However, that spar with Goten had made him feel rusty. He wanted to be at his best when he sparred with the third-class the next time. There was another thing, though – it seemed that Goten’s strength, speed, and power were rising. Goten was still not fully capable of controlling his ki, but during their encounter with the thieves, he had demonstrated that he was more than capable of causing damage with it. Deadly damage.
The shyu stopped running first. He slowed down, panting loudly, and sat down on the cooling asphalt to rest. He was no match for an elite, even if that elite lacked stamina. The prince stopped running an hour later and they both went to the training hall. The prince already felt sluggish and thought that maybe it would have been better if he had stopped earlier.
The training hall could be divided into ten enclosed blocks by lowering a series of tempered steel walls down from the ceiling. In the evenings, there were almost always people sparring or just practicing their moves in separate cubicles. Most of them were second-years, preparing for their upcoming fighting and stamina tests, but there was also a handful of officers who were either honing their skills or were making sure the hall wouldn’t be torn down by over-enthusiastic youngsters.
During the past few days, the prince had been using those officers as sparring partners. To put it mildly, sparring with the shyu alone was not very challenging – the man had skill and speed, but only for a second-class. The prince usually ended up sparring with one of the experienced elite officers. Last time, no elite officers came and he had to resort to sparring with two elite trainees. The second-years were better than they looked and he had nearly paid for his conceitedness.
The training hall was purposely lined with ki-absorbing material, but Saiyans rarely sparred using their ki; it was dangerous and was bound to cause serious injuries if one of the sparring partners breached another’s ki-shield. When they did spar with ki, though, they wore heavy armor for protection.
Today, the prince wanted to spar using his ki. He had personally requested one of the most capable elite lecturers in ki-attacks, Ardema Tayera, to be his partner. He was a man in the prime of his life, working as a trainer giving practice lessons on ki-based fighting. When the shaii entered the training hall, he was already putting his armor on. The prince walked over to the bench the lecturer was standing by and looked at the armor which the trainer had chosen for him.
It was one of the newest armors on the market. There were only a few sets on the base. He had a set in his wardrobe back at his barracks, but it had been specially made for him and was marked with the royal symbol of flame. He preferred not to wear it as it made him feel like he was showing off. Maybe after they ordered more of those armors for the base, he would wear his own as well.
The new armor was very expensive, but it was favored by many. First, it was much lighter than common Saiyan armor. Second, it was made of an elastic material which could withstand physical attacks just as well as solid metal armor. Third, the elastic material could be stretched to some extent, enabling warriors of different builds to wear it. Fourth, instead of scalding the wearer by absorbing heat from ki, it stayed fairly cool; the surface would get hot, but the warmth was slowly diffused into the environment.
The prince finished buckling the armor on, then started attaching the shoulder pieces. The armor was red and yellow, rather than the more common blue and yellow, and the shaii sighed mentally, imagining the overall picture it was painting when combined with his lavender-colored hair and khaki trousers. He was a walking rainbow.
“Whenever you are ready, sir,” Ardema said, watching the prince finish donning his armor.
He sounded somewhat impatient and, with a sudden twinge of jealousy, the shaii wondered if the man had to postpone a date with his lover because of his request to spar. It was common knowledge on the base that Ardema and one of the recently transferred officers had found a mutual interest in each other. Or maybe he was simply eager for the spar although it didn’t show on his face.
The shaii nodded. Sighing, he picked up the white gloves; an additional color for his rainbow. Pulling them on, he started walking towards the empty seventh sector. He pulled a lever on the wall and a block slid out of the ceiling to enclose the space. They did a few warm up exercises, gathering and dispersing their ki, then walked towards the middle of the sector where they stood facing each other.
The prince powered up first and flew towards Ardema. Ardema blocked his punch and kicked out with his leg, but the prince was airborne, no longer there. Ardema jumped back to avoid a scorching blast which whooshed right past him and thumped into the ground, sparks flaring up all over the floor. He raised his head and blasted up into the air as well, where he and the prince engaged in close combat.
The prince’s back slammed into the wall after his defense failed and Ardema’s foot connected with his chest. The armor absorbed the brunt of the kick, so it didn’t hurt much, but he could feel that he had left a considerable dent in the wall. A fully-powered Ardema was scary.
The prince half-flew, half-scrambled away from the wall to dodge the oncoming blast. It missed his left side by only an inch. Distracted by the blast, he was just in time to block the kick Ardema aimed at his face. The prince twisted his body aside, grabbed the man’s leg and launched a blast at his chest, sending him tumbling backwards into the floor. Ardema raised his arms to block the next blaze of ki which engulfed him before he could get to his feet.
The prince was panting lightly. The flash faded and it appeared that Ardema was not where he had been a second ago. The lecturer was wisely not giving him many opportunities to use his superior ki to his advantage. All the shaii was managing were half-churned out ki-blasts without much power behind them.
The shaii blocked the lecturer’s blast. Then, to avoid the oncoming physical attack, he dropped down and rolled over, kicking the man in the stomach and sending him headfirst into the wall. Ardema managed to catch himself on his hands at the last moment. He pushed himself off the wall and flew back at the prince. He dodged a blast and rammed his foot in the prince’s stomach, tossing him backwards. The prince hit the wall behind him, then flared his ki up to soften Ardema’s oncoming blast. The next blast, he simply batted away. He saw Ardema giving him a perplexed look; while emanating such a strong field of ki, he was practically invincible. The man was wondering how he was supposed to get around it.
Nonetheless, the prince soon found out that Ardema was a resourceful man, worthy of his reputation. The lecturer started flitting all over the room, bombarding him with ki-blasts. They hardly had any effect on him, but they were distracting. Ardema managed to land a few solid hits on him, the last one sending him crashing into the floor where his ki left a large imprint. Shooting upwards out of the hole, the prince was just in time to connect his face with Ardema’s foot. While his body was being slammed back into the hole, he thought that Goten was right – his defense sucked.
He had to give it to Ardema – the man was truly masterful and he could hardly compare to him. But while acknowledging Ardema’s skill, the prince, fevered with the fight and adrenaline, wanted to win, even if it was only with sheer power.
Their session quickly started taking its toll on Ardema’s energy. He was getting tired and slower and his body was generating less and less ki. The prince powered up to his maximum and attacked Ardema at full speed, looking for openings and using them when found. Soon it was over, Ardema raising his hand in defeat.
They nodded at each other respectfully. The prince pulled the lever again, raising the wall, and they left sector seven. They dropped their heavy bodies on one of the benches and started unbuckling their armor.
“I’d like to do this again,” the shaii said, feeling awkward. Now that the passion of the fight had dissipated, he felt as if he had cheated the man. He wiped at his sweating forehead.
Ardema gave him a look and the prince felt even more uncomfortable. “Alright, sir,” Ardema nodded after a few seconds, “but there isn’t much point in it for you. I’m no match against that amount of ki.”
“Err…yes,” the prince agreed. “However, you are my best and only option.”
“I see.”
Silently, they took their armor off. The prince was thinking that he would like to see Goten’s ki-fighting abilities. He had seen him defeat those thieves, but that was only because Goten had used his excessive ki to overwhelm them. He wondered what Goten would do if faced with an opponent in a similar category. He wanted to spar with Goten, but it was dangerous while the third-class wasn’t fully capable of controlling his ki. One thing he feared was that Goten’s ki would never become stable. That would be a grand waste.
<center>ooOoOoOoo</center>
The shaii woke up to the sound of the sirens blaring. It took him a second to orient himself, then, tripping over his scattered boots on the floor, he shot to the window to look outside. It was not even dawn yet.
The alarm soon died and microphones screeched: “Attention. A state of emergency. Everyone, go outside and form columns on the training field.”
His mind reeling, thinking about the worst situation possible, the prince rushed to his wardrobe. An attack, it finally started, the war everyone had been dreading. The situation among the confederates had been getting less and less stable. War had broken out.
The prince cursed softly in the darkness when he tripped on his boots again. On his way, he flipped the light switch on, then grabbed his uniform and started pulling it on. Which one was attacking? Ice-jins or Leiadors? Or, hopefully, an unknown enemy?
Once the prince had his boots on, he rushed outside. The mish-mash of savars and officers soon formed into neat rows, and he joined the nearest column of officers. The nervous air of apprehension was clinging to all men.
The microphones screeched again. “All savars and officers, form seven columns.”
There was a bout of sudden confusion, but soon seven columns stood on the field.
“Spread out. Now turn to face the dawn.”
Men thinned out and turned towards the rising sun.
“Good. Now salute the morning, take your clothes off, and let’s have an orgy!”
The microphone died, and the field was completely silent for a few seconds. At that point, the shaii realized that the voice he had heard through the microphone, even if muffled, had sounded very familiar. Then he and the officers around him started looking at each other. Most of them started cursing, others had already issued commands for the nearest savars to go to the headquarters where the microphones were. About ten officers headed the same way.
The shaii turned to the columns of savars to see some of them laughing, others, just as the officers, cursing. Then, as suspected, some savars broke into a run for their barracks. Soon he could count over fifty of them running. They had to disperse before the officers ordered them to stay and issued a roll-call. If they did, it would be as easy as pie to track down the missing culprits.
The prince crossed his arms and glared in the general direction of the running savars. He was so relieved that it had been a false alarm that he had no strength left to be angry. He knew perfectly well that Goten was among those who were running for their barracks; he must have recognized the voice as well. The prince didn’t know what Toharu was thinking, but he was going to have his ass tossed out of the School for this. If anyone caught the idiot, of course.
<center>ooOoOoOoo</center>
For an entire day, the whole base had been buzzing non-stop about the prank. To the savars’ joy and amusement, the perpetrator had not been caught. On the other hand, the officers were angry and frustrated with the failure to get any information about the person responsible for the misdemeanor and decided that they were going to punish all the savars by not giving them food.
It had more or less worked as planned as now half of the base was angry with the perpetrator, while the other half was angry with the officers. Nonetheless, nobody had stepped forward and named the bastard.
The prince toyed with the idea of calling Goten to his office and making him admit that it had been Toharu. He had no idea how he would make Goten give Toharu away. He simply liked the thought of putting Goten on the hot seat. He could imagine him stuttering and stammering and then finally admitting everything. Not that Goten would stammer or admit anything. He would probably swear, with a serious look on his face, that he had been celebrating Christmas on the other side of the planet when the prankster woke everyone up. Not that Goten knew what Christmas was.
The shaii sighed, deflated. He shuffled the case files on his desk, then picked up his phone and rang the taisa’s secretary, asking for Toharu Amatachinna to be sent to his office this instant.
He didn’t need to wait for long. In a few minutes, the microphone screeched, announcing that Toharu was being called to his office to the entire base. In another few minutes, he heard someone’s steps in the corridor.
Toharu knocked, entered the office, closed the door, walked forward, stopped in front of the shaii’s desk, and saluted. “Sir.”
“At ease,” the prince said, motioning at the empty chair in front of his desk. “Sit down.”
There was a large ugly bruise under Toharu’s left eye and the prince briefly wondered whose gift it was. Otherwise, Toharu didn’t look particularly nervous. He was one of those who never seemed anxious, taking everything in stride. He was very different from Goten who had a tendency to fuss about nonsensical things.
Despite the shiner under his eye and the fact that he was shorter than most Saiyans, Toharu was a very handsome man. He was one who looked slender in clothing but was bulky without. Toharu was also never reluctant to use his looks to get what he wanted.
Toharu was giving off some kind of strange vibe. The prince could detect nothing in his posture, gestures, or voice, but it was there, lurking beneath the surface. It was probably some kind of scent, the prince thought. Since he wasn't very good with scents, he couldn't be certain, but it seemed that instead of being worried, Toharu was rather irked by him.
The thing the prince was certain about was that Ario was right behind the office door, skipping his lectures. Both of them came as a package – if you wanted one, you also got the other. He had to admit that, to some extent, he felt jealous of their bond.
The prince opened his drawer and pulled out a large file. He tossed it on his desk, right in front of Toharu’s face, where it landed with a loud whoosh and a slap.
“If not for this, I’d toss you out.”
Wordlessly, Toharu reached out to take the file and opened it. He seemed to recognize it instantly. Without reading it any further, he closed it and put it back onto the desk. He gave the shaii a quizzical look. “Sir?”
“Why did you do it?”
“I lost a bet, sir. That’s all.”
Toharu admitted everything at once, but the calm and challenging ‘that’s all’ made the prince want to hit him. Nonetheless, he decided it was not worth the trouble; he hated writing reports. “What kind of a bet?” he asked.
For a moment, Toharu looked uncomfortable, then something shifted in his eyes. “I bet that Ranvera would have Goten by this week. I lost, apparently,” he said with a soft smile on his lips.
Startled, the prince tried to discern any malice in Toharu’s voice, but couldn’t. The tables had turned and he suddenly felt that Toharu had him cornered. His presence of mind was telling him that, even if there had been a bet, it had had nothing to do with Goten. Toharu was testing him.
Alarmed, he watched the second-class, waiting for more comments or body-language indicators to let him read the other male. But no, he was over thinking this. Toharu would surely not dare to imply what he thought he was implying. Or would he…? Did the second-class really suspect that he had some lingering affection for Goten?
The prince found that he could not say anything to that. Provided that Toharu knew about his feelings, he had better accept Toharu’s reproach and suck it up like a man. Nonetheless, when the prince opened his mouth, his brain decided that if he could say nothing in his defense, then this was the best time to attack.
“A ‘<i>friendly</i>’ bet, so to speak?” he challenged and, by the way Toharu’s nostrils flared, he could guess that the attack had been successful; Toharu knew what was to come. “According to these documents, you and Ario had been conscripted even before Goten’s arrival,” he said, feeling like a complete asshole, but not even thinking about stopping.
“Yes, sir. To make sure no harm comes to him.”
The prince’s lips quirked up. “Not an easy task, is it? He always ends up in the medical bay.” By the way Toharu’s eyes flashed, he could guess that the younger male would like to give him a piece of his mind. This was another sensitive spot. “You’re from the same paramilitary school as Goten, right?” the prince continued.
“Yes, sir,” Toharu said, his eyes two smoldering charcoals.
“Does Ranvera or Kyon know that you’re watching Goten and reporting to the taisa?”
“Of course not, sir.”
The prince watched the second-class thoughtfully. He had tampered with Toharu’s pride and feelings and, obviously, the second-class was not happy about it. He was rather ashamed of his own behavior as he knew that, very likely, Toharu was just worried about the damage he could do to Goten if he acted on his desires. Toharu was protective of his friend. He didn't have to worry though, as Goten had already shown more self-preservation skills than anyone thought he had.
“Get him here,” the shaii said, motioning with his head at the door. “Your… Ario.”
“Yes, sir,” Toharu complied, getting up from his chair and walking over to the door. “Ario, come in here,” he said after opening it.
Ario’s impressive build filled the room. “Sir?”
“Make sure he doesn’t do something like this again,” the shaii warned. “This is the last time I’m letting you off.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I’ve been working on it already,” Ario said, glaring at Toharu who dropped his gaze to his boots, not meeting his lover’s eyes.
The shaii watched the exchange wistfully, realizing that it had been Ario who had adorned Toharu’s face with bright colors. He had guessed right – it was Ario who was the voice of reason in their union.
“We are very grateful, sir,” Ario repeated, and, as if nudged in the ribs, Toharu raised his head to nod at the prince.
Mesmerized by the sheer amount of influence Ario had over Toharu, the shaii returned the nod. “Dismissed,” he said.
Both savars saluted. “Yes, sir.”
Once they left, the prince rose from his chair and walked over to the window to watch Ario and Toharu exit the building. His eyes followed their backs until they entered the auditoriums. After that, he returned to his desk and pulled another file out of the drawer. This one was five times as thick as Toharu’s. With both hands, he lowered it onto the table.
He sat and stared at the cover of the file. It was only a copy, but it took a month, a few connections with higher-ups, and about ten phone calls to acquire it without setting National Security on his trail. Now that he finally had it, he was excited but at the same time reluctant to read it. He was apprehensive of what he could find out. With a hand slightly trembling with impatience, he reached out to open the cover.
Three hours and a half later, he turned the last page. After that, he read the first page anew, then closed the file and leaned back into his chair. It was evening already. Now he had most of the answers to his questions, like why Goten was on the base, why Goten differed from a common third-class, and why there had been so many accidents involving Goten.
The shaii rocked in his chair while staring at the ceiling and the stains he had become so familiar with. He wondered if he should tell everything to Goten and finally bring peace to the third-class’s mind. It would stop the third-class from being paranoid but, on the other hand, he doubted if this would bring much peace to Goten’s mind – there was nothing Goten could change.
In the end, knowing that Goten’s father was arriving soon, the prince decided not to interfere and leave Goten the opportunity to hear everything from his parent. A few days of waiting would make no difference, he was sure of that.
<center>ooOoOoOoo</center>
“Seeing as you’re still alive, I’ll presume you have fucked someone to stay so. Or at least gave them oral.”
Toharu raised his head to look at Ranvera. He, Goten, and Kyon were taking places at the table while setting their plates down.
“I wanted to, but Ario was against it,” Toharu muttered without a spark in his voice.
His lack of enthusiasm was met with worried faces.
“What did he say?” Goten asked.
“Nothing much,” Ario answered instead of his lover. “Just that it was the last time he let us off.”
Relieved, Goten shrugged and now his attention hit the food on his plate with full force. He started scrambling up spoonfuls of noodles into his mouth. “He’s a good guy, even too good,” he deduced, munching. “Were I in his shoes, I’d have kicked you out.”
“Good guy, my ass!” Toharu snorted, pushing his empty plate away. “He n-”
“Toharu, babe,” Ario interrupted him, “he was the one to spare your sorry ass, so tune it down.”
“I was wondering,” Goten said, shoveling some more noodles into his mouth. “Why exactly did you do it? I mean, really. I know you’re not right in the head, but that was a little too much even for you.”
Apathetic, Toharu sighed. “I lost a drinking contest.”
Kyon gasped. “You? No way!”
Toharu sipped his tea mournfully. “Yeah, shocking, isn’t it? So I lost and she made sure I fulfilled the promise.”
“She?”
Toharu’s face was one big rumbling cloud. “Yeah, Almanda.”
“Oh! The ringleader!” Goten laughed, thumping his hand onto the table in amusement, spitting out some noodles in the process. “Yeah, she can hold her liquor like no other.”
“For fuck’s sake, Goten, stop being a pig!” Kyon said, whacking him on the head. He raised his hand again threateningly.
“Alright, alright, stop it,” Goten said, picking up the noodles off the table and lowering them next to his plate.
Toharu glared at the third-class. “I’d have appreciated this piece of information a few days ago.”
Goten shrugged. “Well, you were also present when we got our kitchen duty for life. You should have noticed.” The third-class took a gulp of his tea. “Anyway, how did he realize it was you?”
“He never said. But I think, exactly like you – he recognized my voice. Damn, and I thought I was being so careful!”
“Hmm…” Goten hummed into his mug. “You weren’t being careful, you were being an idiot.”
“Yeah,” Ranvera agreed. “Couldn’t you just come up with something like ‘if I lose, I’ll kiss your feet or ass’? Even if she's an elite, she’s one hot lady. Some rimming would have been in order!”
“All’s well that ends well,” Goten said, ignoring Ranvera, who was now suffering from lack of attention as no one was paying him any.
“Toharu, you sure he isn’t blackmailing you?” Kyon asked.
“And what would you do if he is?” Ario chuckled.
Kyon grinned at him. “If it’s sex, I’d want to switch places. He could blackmail me all he wants.”
“Damn,” Ranvera shook his head, “are you sure it’s Goten, who is interested in him? Methinks Kyon is head over heels in love with our prince.”
“Nah,” Toharu said, “it’s just that you're not satisfying him enough; he’s suffering from sexual frustration.”
Ranvera gave him the finger.
“Oh lookie, Goten is not denying that he’s interested in him!”
Goten turned to give Kyon an apathetic look. “There’s no point. The more I deny, the more you believe the opposite.”
“Oh c’mon, Goten,” Ranvera sighed, “humor us. We are bored. We want some gossip.”
“Why the hell do I have to be your personal clown?”
Toharu saluted him with his empty mug of tea. “Because you’re extremely good at it.”
Goten glared at him. “And to think that, ten minutes ago, I was worried that you’d be kicked out.”
“That’s nice of you, but I’m more interested in what you’re going to do about the prince.”
Goten rolled his eyes at Toharu. “You know, you could think of something else. This is getting old.”
“I’m serious, Goten. You should’ve seen his face when I said I did this because I lost a bet where I put my money on Ranvera having you by the end of this week.”
“You said what?”
“Shit, don’t involve me in your games! He hates me enough already!”
“Don’t you think your joke has gone too far?”
“We are going to have a talk once we are back in our room.”
<center>ooOoOoOoo</center>
Abashed, Goten stared at the ceiling. He shifted in his bunk uncomfortably, suppressing a moan. He wished for his morning wood to disappear faster. Everybody else was still asleep in their beds.
Goten lifted his hands into the air, twirled them around absentmindedly, then dropped them on his face and gave it a good rub. The raging hard-on didn’t bother him – he was young and sexually frustrated and he was aware of that. It was the reason for it that was bothering him. He could still see that exotic tail waving before his eyes. Purple, with a white fluff at the end. And eyes, blue leering eyes. And then a lot of naked body, skin, caresses and kisses and…
Goten gritted his teeth and closed his eyes tightly. It didn’t make the images disappear, instead making them even more vivid. He opened them again to continue to glare at the ceiling. He could hear that particular whooshing sound created by the sand grinding against the protective shields somewhere above.
He rarely had dreams of this nature, at least he did not remember that he did. In the cases he had, usually they were only flares of lust towards formless blotches of bare unidentified skin his mind would conjure. He almost never dreamed about real people. Nonetheless, the dream he just had was very vivid and detailed. The imprint of the shaii’s office and the furniture was still clear.
Disturbed, Goten huffed. His bastard friends had instilled this into his head. Talking and talking about his and the prince’s non-existent relationship non-stop. It was no wonder he had even started dreaming about the man. Anyone would become self-conscious after all those endless insinuations. They were going to make him lust after the prince, the idiots.
He didn’t want this at all. How was he going to look the prince in the eyes?
Luckily, he didn’t need to. The fiery sandstorm raging outside lasted for three days. Due to a heavy concentration of sand particles in the air, the savars spent their days in the auditoriums and the training hall. The evenings were spent in barracks without setting their feet outside. The windows were all closed, the air stale, the savars sluggish and sleepy.
By the time Goten saw the shaii again, he had already forgotten most of that dream. He had a few others, though. Those ones he did not want to think about or even admit that he had ever had them.
<center>ooOoOoOoo</center>
On Monday, the shaii could be found staring at his computer screen. He stared at it daily, but the expression his face was wearing now was rarely to be seen. He lifted his eyes off the screen and concentrated them on the shyu who entered his office, carrying a sheaf of documents in his hands.
“Sir, these are for you to sign,” the shyu said, walking over and putting the documents on the prince’s desk. “The taisa has already gone through them and signed as well.”
The shaii nodded. Indicating that he was going to start looking over them immediately, he patted the pile with his hand. “Thank you, you may go.”
“Yes, sir.”
Once his subordinate left, the shaii’s eyes returned to the screen of his computer. He scrolled the results back upwards until Goten’s picture appeared. He had decided to check Goten’s profile once again in the School’s database. Nothing had changed much, except that Goten had suddenly been turned into a second-class. If Goten had previously been registered as a third-class, now there was not a sign of his real class. Even his father, brother, and grandparents had been turned into second-classes. The shaii could bet his arm that now he would find exactly the same information in the national database and even in the previous schools Goten had attended. Currently, the only proofs left that Goten was a third-class were his father’s profile and the handwritten sources.
Nevertheless, this was predictable. The prince wondered why this hadn’t been done before Goten had entered the base. The most plausible reason was that National Security hadn’t been sure if Goten would be worth the effort. Keeping in mind all the times the third-class managed to get into trouble, they probably had thought that they should wait and see.
Deciding to leave it be, the shaii scrolled the mouse downwards. Goten’s sudden jump up the social ladder didn’t concern him in the least. In fact, he was even glad. Now there was no danger about the information leaking out to the other savars.
But he had not started checking Goten’s profile for this information. He had had something else in mind. What he was more interested in were Goten’s grades. The third-class had come to Hataro Officer Training School with extraordinarily good grades. However, during his time at School, they had dropped to average or even below average. About a week ago, he had also completely and utterly failed his test on ki-guns.
Humming under his breath, one by one, the prince opened Goten’s friends’ profiles. There was exactly the same tendency. All of their grades had plummeted although Kyon got an A on the same ki-gun test which Goten had failed.
The lavender-haired man scratched the back of his head. It was obvious that their grades were suffering because of the kitchen duty. Goten had also spent a lot of time at the medical bay. He had expected that once Goten’s nightly duty of peeling potatoes was over, he would catch up with everyone. However, the failure in his test was telling him that this wasn’t so. The prince, though, had hope that Goten simply didn’t like ki-guns. But whether Goten liked them or not, Goten and his friends’ grades were somewhat concerning him. As long as they kept passing tests and exams, they were alright, but constant failures might result in them getting expelled. Or even worse, people would start asking questions about why Goten was not getting expelled, because the prince doubted that he would. National Security seemed to be keen on giving him an officer’s education. Gods only knew why, because with the power Goten had, his brain was an expendable asset. As far as National Security interests were concerned, it was much easier to manipulate brainless brutes.
The shaii checked the date of the make-up test on ki-guns. He sighed; it was in four days. He started drumming his fingers on the desk, not sure what to do. He thought for a few minutes, then decided that, if Kyon and Goten would not think of combining their powers themselves, in a day or two he was going to have a talk with them. Just to make sure Goten passed that damn test.
<center>ooOoOoOoo</center>
His father was late. He was late by two whole weeks. No messages and no phone calls either. Goten had already started thinking that this was just another way to buy some time. He had clearly felt that his father was not looking forward to explaining the situation. Maybe he was just avoiding him. This was angering him, but all he could do was to wait while gritting his teeth in silent frustration.
On Thursday, the message came that the spaceship his father was on had disappeared a week ago. There were five other spaceships missing which had taken the same route that day. It was not clear whether the ships were hijacked or destroyed. They had simply disappeared.
TBC