Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Barracks ❯ Part 29 ( Chapter 29 )
[ 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: 08.16.2011 | Pages: 6 | Words: 7.1K | Visits: 299 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Adventure / Hentai / Sci-fi / Angst | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 08.16.2011 | Pages: 6 | Words: 7.1K | Visits: 299 | 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.
A/N: <b>Starcut’s crew members</b>:
1. Captain
2. Backup Captain
3. Master Sergeant
4. Navigator - (Adriel)
5. Communications Specialist - (Sildara)
6. Programmer - (Rokunda)
7. Gunnery Sergeant - (Monteira Fawa)
8. Arms Specialist
9. Arms Specialist
10. Flight Officer - (Reyn Dueri)
11. Flight Officer - (Jadenas Ealt)
12. Head Engineer - (Nohail Ofura)
13. Maintenance Technician
14. Maintenance Technician
15. Doctor - (Tamahi)
16. Medic
17. Head Cook
18. Cook
19. Soldier - (Edesha)
20. Goten
<b>Barracks</b>
by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by quatreofdoom
Part 29
Tamahi looked over at the door which had just slid open. The gunnery sergeant walked in to the medical room, and the doctor greeted him with a nod. Monteira headed straight for the operating table where Goten lay and gave his still form a disapproving look.
“Is he still sleeping?” the gunnery sergeant asked although it was obvious that Goten was. He folded his hands behind his back and stood motionless while staring at Goten.
“He woke up two hours ago, then went to sleep again. He seemed to be fine,” the doctor added.
“So what’s wrong with him?"
“Well, there is this light hormonal instability, weird brain wave pattern, and…” the doctor trailed off.
“And that means?”
The doctor leaned back in his chair. “Nothing much: that insignificant hormonal change is commonly called sexual frustration. That strange brain wave pattern…” He shrugged. “I have no idea, but it stopped as soon as he woke up and now it has disappeared completely.”
The gunnery sergeant gave him an impatient look. “So what the hell is wrong with him?”
“Nothing, I think,” the doctor admitted. “It seems he’s just sleeping.”
The gunnery sergeant’s eyes left Goten’s face and looked at the doctor. “Why?”
The doctor cleared his throat. He always found it difficult to deal with the straightforward gunnery sergeant, whose list of excusable illnesses included only broken bones, an absent head, and death in general.
“I am inclined to think that this is a psychological matter,” Tamahi said.
“Is he schizophrenic?”
The doctor sighed. “No, Monteira, he is not. He’s just…” Tamahi wondered if he should tell the sergeant anything at all. Monteira wasn’t good with subtleties and there was a risk that he would begin disliking and looking down on Goten. However, Goten was young, and the sergeant always had a soft spot for youngsters.
“Psychology is not my field, but I’ve met Goten before,” he started. “He seems to have had a difficult time before coming here: his school was attacked, his best friend seems to have died, his father is still in a regeneration tank, and then Goten was sent here. I think all of this happened in the span of two days. In addition to all that, some of us haven’t been very hospitable either.”
“Reyn was just fucking around.”
“Well, yes, but Goten didn’t know that.”
“So you are telling me that he’s sleeping because he has no balls to face reality?”
“Err… Well, more or less,” the doctor agreed. “I think he’s just doing some catching up with the facts. This is not that uncommon.”
“Just great!” the sergeant growled. “So next time we are attacked he’s going to just fall asleep? Is this what you’re telling me?”
“Well, he didn’t fall asleep when Reyn picked on him.”
“Reyn was just fucking around!” Monteira repeated angrily, but the doctor could already see sparks lighting up in his eyes. “But damn, he whammed Reyn’s face into that soup like a real professional!”
“I don’t think there are any people making a living out of that,” Tamahi pointed out.
Monteira grinned at him. “There was even a fountain!”
The doctor chuckled. “If you say so.”
The gunnery sergeant spared Goten another look. “I’m going to have a stern talk with the brat as soon as he wakes up; he needs some serious disciplining. Tell him that.”
“Certainly.”
“And why is he lying on the operating table?”
“I don’t really know. Jadenas and Sildara put him there, so I just left him lying on it.”
“But you did say he had woken up?”
The doctor shrugged. “Well, he lay down on it again. I don’t know why. Maybe he likes it, or maybe he thought he was supposed to.”
“Actually, is there anything in his medical history about these sleep spells?”
“No, not really, just a bunch of broken bones and some serious ki burns. He did mention that he had suffered from migraine attacks, but this is quite different. Besides, he has also had a few concussions; the migraines might be just a side-effect of them.”
“Ah well, just keep an eye on him.”
“Sure.”
“See you at lunch, then.”
“See you,” the doctor said, waving Goten’s printed out medical history in the air as a goodbye. The door slid closed behind the gunnery sergeant’s back and the doctor’s chair swiveled back to face his desk. He continued to study the documents.
A few minutes later, the door slid open again. “He’s still asleep,” the doctor said without raising his eyes off the papers. In the past three days, while Goten was asleep, he had been visited by nearly everyone. Some even showed up a few times. Currently, Goten was the main attraction in their boring lives.
“Yeah, I can see that. I came because of my nose.”
The doctor’s chair swiveled towards the door where Reyn stood. “Ah,” the doctor said. “Monteira and I were just talking about you. He was admiring the way your face splashed Goten’s soup around so professionally.”
Reyn rolled his eyes. “Give me a break already. I had a row with my father and was a little pissed off with the situation in general, so I thought I’d let off some steam. No big deal.”
“You are lucky he didn’t put your eye out with a fork, you idiot,” the doctor admonished.
“Well, he didn’t look the type,” Reyn said, walking over to the doctor. He took the chair in front of the doctor.
The doctor felt compelled to tell Reyn that, due to the fact that Goten was a third-class, and had somehow managed to survive Hataro Officer Training School and even the attack on it, and then got sent to space with them, there was a very high possibility that Goten was exactly the type.
“It’s those harmless-looking ones who catch you unaware,” Tamahi said, wheeling with his chair closer to Reyn; his chair was probably the only one which wasn’t welded into the floor.
“Truer words have never been uttered,” Reyn said, wincing when the doctor prodded at his nose. “The bastard got me good.” The plaster had been taken off yesterday. Reyn’s face underneath looked like it had been run over by a tank. He was planning to have a little reckoning with the newbie concerning that when the bastard finally woke up.
<center>ooOoOoOoo</center>
Goten was in the briefing hall. He had managed to locate the controls that operated the electronic devices in the room and lifted the metallic shield off the screen to reveal the vastness of space behind it. The chairs were screwed into the floor and they were farther away from the screen than Goten would have liked, thus he sat down on the floor, with his nose nearly touching the glass. This was what he had always dreamed of seeing since he had started going to paramilitary school. In fact, just like any other boy.
Sitting alone in the briefing hall, staring at blinking dots in the darkness, the third-class realized that this was not something he could do for long – he would get bored. He had also seen a varicolored nebula, which had been a wondrous sight, but when he had tried to turn on the terminal in the hall to identify it, the terminal asked him for the password. With that, his educational program was concluded.
The main reason Goten was sitting alone in the hall gazing at the stars was that he had just been nagged at by the gunnery sergeant. The third-class knew he was childishly sulking, but he fretted that all of his conversations were going to be similar. He had just left the medical room and the prospect of everyone trying to teach him how to lead his life was horrifying.
Goten was under the impression that the gunnery sergeant believed that, in addition to being a coward, he also had a screw loose. He had been talking to him slowly and deliberately and also repeated things a few times. The damn doctor must have mentioned something about his stupid brainwaves. Now the whole ship would think that he was a schizophrenic sissy.
Well, maybe he was.
Goten sighed. The dream had been something…to remember. It was the hottest dream he had ever had, and it also made him feel a little like a whore. Technically, it had just been something his frustrated mind had conjured, but there was almost always a reason behind dreams like that. He didn’t particularly want to go there. Not when it concerned his brother, his dead friend, an elite prince, and an entire crowd of onlookers.
The stars winked at him tauntingly. He had never imagined his flight into space would be like this: he was not enthusiastic about it, nor did he know the purpose of his presence on the ship. It somehow felt like a waste of a fulfilled dream. Goten looked at his reflection on the screen. His new uniform looked strange on him, but it was probably just because he still needed time to get used to its blue color. His hair was of average length already. Had been for quite some time, in fact, only he had been too busy to notice. It was, however, still distinguishably short for someone on board. His shoulders felt bare as well.
There was also the feeling of helplessness present – whatever the crew thought of him, he had had no choice in the matter - his life didn’t belong to him.
Goten didn’t want to leave the safety of the briefing room, thus he lingered in it idly until he fell asleep again. He woke up twenty minutes later to the sound of something whirring softly. The third-class looked around, then realized that the sound was coming from a black creature next to his side. Its eyes were closed, but it obviously wasn’t asleep, as the sound didn’t cease even for a second. It was puffy and also smelled of worn socks.
Carefully, Goten reached out for the thick fur. He laid his hand on the creature and the whirring sound intensified. This was the first time he had ever seen a creature like this. He wasn’t certain if animals were allowed on board, but maybe they were as this one was here. It also had a leather collar. Something hard and round touched Goten’s fingers and he pushed the fur aside to examine it. It read: <i>Mr. Elite</i>. Confused, Goten turned the metallic object around where he read: <i>Starcut</i>. So this was the property of <i>Starcut</i>.
Goten petted the animal for a few more minutes, then stood up. He was hungry. He took the return of his appetite as a good sign. The animal didn’t follow him and Goten left it where it was. Steeling himself for the inevitable, he made his way towards the kitchen. Men quieted when he passed them, but, as they didn’t make fun of him, Goten could tell the gunnery sergeant had kept his mouth closed. The third-class understood that his encounter with Reyn had done him a favor – instead of being hostile, now everyone seemed to be rather amused. He even received a few greetings. Goten felt malicious glee overtake him – if all it took was to bash Reyn’s face in, he could do that any time! Even a few more faces could be in order!
Dinner was still a few hours away, but Goten talked the cook into giving him leftovers. Since they technically belonged to Goten, as he had missed out on eating while staying in the medical room, the cook wasn’t stingy about it. After eating, Goten returned to his cabin. The musty smell slapped his face like a wet towel. Goten found an old T-shirt its previous owner had abandoned in the wardrobe, then set off on a quest for a bucket and cleaning liquid. After asking around and receiving curious looks, he finally obtained both from one of the maintenance technicians.
Goten thought of himself as a tidy person. He had also been the one to clean their room in the barracks. True, that had only happened once in a half-year, but still, he was a rare gem amongst Saiyans. One could trust him not to have half-eaten sandwiches, used condoms, and dirty underwear lying around (Goten wasn’t certain about used condoms – that might still come).
In two hours, Goten’s kingdom of about 15 square meters was sparkling: he had gathered the broken glass from the lamp that had exploded; he had thrown the bottles and the slice of dried pizza away and cleaned the wardrobe; he had wiped the desk/dinner table and the impassive terminal off; he sorted the magazines and cleaned the cupboard; he had also taken the plush penguin outside into the corridor and beaten the dust out of it; he had washed his old uniform and one of the sheet sets so that it would be dry tomorrow and he could change the bedding.
Content, the third-class cast his eyes over the dripping clothing on the rope he had stretched from one corner of the room to another. He had tied one end of the rope to the wires and cables above the door while the other was fastened to the wardrobe. There was hardly any place left to move around, but that was nothing in exchange for clean bedding and clothes.
Goten leaned against the door and patted his pockets absentmindedly. He stuck his hands into them and wiggled his fingers about. Frowning, he wiggled them about much more actively. Nothing. He turned his pockets inside out. Empty.
The fucking telephone number was gone.
Had he lost it? Had somebody taken it? The third-class tried to reconstruct the chain of events in his memory: the number had fluttered to the ground when he had changed uniforms, then he had picked it up and pocketed it into his new uniform. It was really gone. He needed to check the medical room and the toilets, just in case he had dropped it there. Goten’s gaze went out to the wet clothing on the rope. Well, if anyone found out who the number belonged to, he had enough rope to hang himself with. Or to hang someone else. Huffing loudly, he leaned his head back against the cool metal of the door.
He had known it was going to be a pain in the ass, the number. He should have torn it up and thrown it away at once. Why the hell had he kept it? He doubted he was going to meet the prince ever again. Well, maybe that was why he had kept it – as a memento of sorts.
The third-class nearly fell over when the door let out a soft ping behind him and slid open, taking away his support. Stupefied, he watched the same black animal waltz into his cabin. Why in the world had the door opened for it? The creature sniffed around, trotted forwards and backwards, then turned its backside to the wall and let out a few sprays of piss. Goten grabbed the first thing under his hand, which happened to be the penguin, and threw it at the animal. The creature screeched horribly and shot away from the wall. It took a few minutes for the third-class to chase it out of his cabin, then a few more to wipe the wall off. Yet, he could feel the “deodorant” lingering in the air. Damn animal.
It was dinner-time and Goten headed for the canteen. He had eaten two hours ago, but the cleaning had made him hungry again, not to mention he had been lying about without eating for the last three days.
Indeed, the crew’s interest in Goten had wound down with startling speed. The canteen hardly stirred when the third-class entered. Goten received his share from the cook and looked around for an empty seat. All six tables were bustling. Probably nearly everyone was present, because now he had to pick a place from six available seats. There was one free at the gunnery sergeant’s side, but, after having listened to Monteira’s one hour lecturing monologue just after waking up, Goten would rather go hungry than sit there. Another seat was opposite Reyn, but Goten would rather shoot himself. The third was next to the captain, but Goten couldn’t allow himself such liberty yet. There were two seats available on both the left and right side of the programmer, but the third-class treasured his family jewels too much to risk them. The last one seemed to be the most appropriate, even though Goten would have avoided it if he had been able to: it was next to Adriel, the navigator.
Adriel beamed at Goten as soon as he sat down at his right side. “So, I hear you have done some spring cleaning?”
Sighing inwardly, the third-class nodded. There wasn’t much space on the table either for arranging his plates, so he left his food on the tray. He glanced at the communications specialist opposite him. Sildara had nodded at Goten to acknowledge his presence, but otherwise paid him no attention. Somehow, these two were always together. <i>Well, duh</i>, Goten thought, after remembering the doctor telling him that the two were lovers.
“So how is it going?”
“The gunnery sergeant chewed the hell out of me,” Goten muttered, not particularly eager to continue the conversation. The other three men sitting around the table were eating with a kind of noiselessness which told him that they were trying to catch every word. Goten looked at the small piece of meat on his fork. He had no idea what animal it had once been, but it smelled okay, so he pushed it past his lips.
“Monteira?” Adriel wondered. “Well, yeah. He tends to bitch and moan about our lack of discipline a lot.”
“Not that it helps,” Sildara said, with a snicker, from the opposite side of the table. He motioned with his head towards Adriel. “Especially in your case.”
With his spoon, Adriel scooped up some cabbage salad off his plate and shot it at Sildara.
“Fucking idiot,” the communications specialist cursed, wiping the cabbage off his uniform.
“Careful, you moron,” the head engineer sitting at Sildara’s side warned, looking at himself to check if he had been splashed as well. “Where the fuck do you think you are? In a kindergarten?”
Adriel scowled at him.
“Listen,” Goten said after eating silently for a few minutes, “there was this black thing in the briefing room and it followed me to my cabin. What the heck is it?”
“Black thing? Must be Mister Elite,” Adriel said.
Goten looked incredulous. “It’s his name? Why? And what is it?”
“A cat. It’s a cat,” the navigator explained. “A pet,” he said, when it didn’t seem that it was any clearer for the newbie. “He is just Monteira’s pet.”
Goten blinked. “The gunnery sergeant’s? Isn’t that against the rules?”
Sildara shrugged indifferently. “He found Mister Elite on Jomen colony, in the Terran Republic. He was starved and half-dead and somehow Monteira picked him up.”
“Just a whim, I suppose,” Adriel said.
“Unlike you, Monteira doesn’t do anything on a whim,” Sildara protested.
Adriel glared at him. “Will you freakin’ stop criticizing me?”
Now Goten knew what the doctor had been talking about. The communications specialist and the navigator were one of those couples who were constantly nagging at each other, but once you tried to get in between them, you could expect them to unanimously beat the crap out of you for so much as offering to buy the other a cup of tea.
The medic, who had been eating on Adriel’s left side, finished his dinner and stood up, Adriel shifting over to make Goten more room on the bench. Goten didn’t get to enjoy the additional space for long, though, as Reyn settled comfortably at his side.
“What’s up?” he asked, lowering his metallic mug of tea on the table. He smiled at Goten encouragingly. “How do you feel?”
Everyone at the table and the surrounding ones tensed. Not certain what to expect, the third-class inspected Reyn’s bruised nose with a certain amount of fondness.
“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” he said. “How is your nose?”
Reyn didn’t even blink, but his smile widened up to his ears. “It’s getting better. Thank you for worrying.” He lifted his mug to slurp at the tea noisily, then lowered it back onto the table. “I was wondering here. Three days of sleep must have bored you out of your head. Why don’t we go to the training room for a friendly spar?”
Ah.
Goten groaned inwardly. He was aware how quiet it had become in the canteen. Reyn was probably a formidable opponent. The third-class hoped that he would manage to avoid fighting him. Gods only knew how the rest of the crew would take it after he broke Reyn’s nose again. Everyone might start ignoring or picking on him. Right now he could at least socialize with most of them.
Goten blinked when he saw everyone’s expectant gazes directed at him. Right, he hadn’t given his answer yet. “Sure,” he said. “When?”
<center>ooOoOoOoo</center>
A training room with adjustable gravity was a thing of luxury on any spaceship. However, it was necessary equipment if one didn’t want soldiers to be taken out with one punch. Space traveling during a mission or patrolling could last for months and there was hardly anything else to do on a ship. It was preferable for soldiers to spend at least a few hours a day in a training room in order to maintain their physical condition, instead of playing cards.
Goten took in the room. The walls were covered in ki-absorbing material. It seemed to be of better quality than that he was used to seeing on the base; protecting the walls of a spaceship was serious business. At first glance, the room seemed to be about a hundred square meters. It was pretty large for a spaceship of <i>Starcut’s</i> size.
“Lovely, isn’t it?” Jadenas asked.
Goten nodded. He didn’t tell his neighbor that he had already been shown around in the training room by the doctor. The flight officer had offered to take him to the room immediately after dinner, and Goten had decided to accept the offer just to strengthen the connection between them. He liked the pilot, and he seemed like a good companion to keep around. He was also the one to check on Goten when he hadn’t shown up for meals.
“You know, I don’t want to dampen your spirit,” the pilot said, “but Reyn will beat the crap out of you. There’s no one on this ship who can stand up to him.”
Goten was surprised. “He doesn’t look it,” he said, walking deeper into the training room towards the terminal.
“Yeah,” Jadenas agreed. “That’s a part of the problem. He looks like your average guy until you get into a fight with him.” He shook his head at what he read on Goten’s face. “Actually, he’s usually quite passive. However, something happened before we boarded and he took it out on you. He can be like that.”
“Like he broke up with his boyfriend, you mean?”
The flight officer shrugged. “Could be.” Goten guessed from his expression that Jadenas didn’t believe that Reyn had a boyfriend.
Interested, the third-class inspected the terminal. It was a small square screen with keys set into the wall. It was unlike what Goten was used to. Usually the control panel was outside the gravity room so as not to get damaged. This one had a see-through lid to protect it though.
“It’s not glass,” Jadenas explained, knocking on the thin lid with his knuckles. “This stuff is as tough as these walls.” He brushed over the wall with his palms. “Maybe even tougher.”
Goten followed his example and brushed with his fingers over the lid, then lifted it to touch the panel. It was locked and the request to unlock it floated out onto the small screen. The surface was cool and smooth. Goten looked at the screen again, then entered the usual combination which was used to lock and unlock electronic devices to prevent them from turning on or off from accidental touch.
“I didn’t train much in amplified gravity,” Goten confessed, the terminal beeping softly, granting the access. “A few times only.” The keys started to blink readily under Goten’s fingers and he moved aside to let Jadenas through; he didn’t trust himself not to mess something up.
“Want to try?”
The third-class’s face lit up like a thousand suns. “Sure!”
Jadenas laughed at his overflowing enthusiasm. “Here, you push this button to increase gravity, and then use this key,” he demonstrated, holding his finger above the button. “And the opposite one is for decreasing it,” he said pointing. “The red one is for an emergency – it shuts down the whole gravity room at once.”
“Oh, that’s pretty easy to use.”
The pilot nodded. He advised that, in case Goten felt that the gravity was too much or was increased too suddenly, he could easily solve the problem by powering up and putting on a ki-shield.
The flight officer pressed the “increase” button and the blinking numbers shot up on the screen. Making pauses, he tapped on the key a few times to gradually increase the gravity. Goten gasped, his eyes bulging out at the suddenly heightened weight of his body. It was pulling him down to the ground so much that he wondered if he would be able to make a step. While studying, he had tried a few gravity rooms, but this felt vastly different.
The third-class watched the pilot lower the lid over the control panel. They moved into the middle of the room. Goten started doing warm up exercises, and Jadenas followed him.
“I’m not that good a fighter,” Jadenas admitted when they were standing in front of each other, ready to fight.
Goten had figured that much. However, if at first he had believed that he could easily overwhelm Jadenas, now he was much less certain about that; Jadenas was used to sparring in increased gravity and he could be much stronger and faster than Goten in conditions like these. In any case, Goten was very interested in trying out the gravity room.
Jadenas attacked first, the third-class blocking him. Goten’s arms felt leaden, and he grunted when the pilot’s fist connected with his left arm. He kicked out at the pilot’s chest, throwing him down. Clumsily, Jadenas tried to sweep Goten off his feet, but the third-class simply stepped away from him. Were this not a friendly spar, the Goten would have kicked the pilot down again while he was trying to get to his feet.
The second-class’s foot lashed out. Goten blocked it and punched Jadenas so hard that he flew backwards. Only at the last moment, he managed to land in a half-crouch instead of dropping to the floor on his side. But Goten was already there, his boot whooshing through the air where the pilot’s head had been a millisecond ago. Jadenas shifted backwards, but Goten’s left knee got him in the shoulder while he was trying to stand up. He staggered back, but managed to block Goten’s backhand aimed at the side of his head.
Goten lowered his hand and retreated a few steps, allowing Jadenas to stand up. The third-class felt much heavier and clumsier than usual, but it was obvious to him now that he still had a very big speed advantage over the flight officer. This time Goten attacked first, his fists quick and merciless. He didn’t aim for the pilot’s head, targeting his chest instead. Although the punches hardly moved the second-class from his spot on the floor, the force behind them made the pilot feel as if something had exploded inside him. While Jadenas stood gasping for air, Goten’s foot kicked out for his chin, throwing him back, then his other foot kicked at the pilot’s stomach while he was still in air, sending him bent over backwards and into the wall.
The flight officer hit the wall and dropped to all fours. He stayed down on the floor, coughing and trying to get his breathing back. He realized that if Goten had put as much power in his kicks as in his punches, his head would have been torn off his shoulders and his stomach ruined. Through the buzzing in his ears, he could hear the younger male approaching and shook his head.
“No more,” he gasped, putting out his right arm defensively, suddenly anxious that, affected by the fervor of the fight, Goten wouldn’t stop. “We are done.”
“Alright.”
Blinking the sweat out of his eyes, Jadenas looked up at Goten, who had already turned sideways and was going in the direction of the control panel to reduce the gravity. Jadenas lowered his arm; the youth wasn’t aggressive. Their fight was over, and Goten had no interest in him. The boy’s breathing was without any change – calm and even. Jadenas laughed at his unfounded fears. He choked and started coughing, rubbing at his chest. “You broke something in there,” he accused.
Confused by his laughter, Goten stopped and gave him a questioning look. He shook his head. “Nah. Should pass in a couple of minutes.”
“Lovely.”
<center>ooOoOoOoo</center>
“Sildara, come here for a moment.”
The communications specialist’s eyes left his screen and looked over at Adriel on the other side of the captain’s bridge. Currently, there were only three of them here: he, Adriel, and Rokunda.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Just come here.”
Huffing, Sildara left his terminal and walked over to his lover. “Well?”
The navigator pointed at something on his monitor. “Look here.”
“What’s that?”
“Just read it!” the navigator snapped at him. “You can read, can’t you?”
The communications specialist took another look at Adriel’s screen. It was the new guy’s profile. The crew members could not and were not allowed to access personal information without the captain’s permission – it was a severe breach of protocol which could be punished even by demotion. “Listen, Adriel, this is pretty illegal,” Sildara warned.
“Shh, you idiot!” the navigator shushed him. “Yeah, I know. But someone sent it to me.”
“What do you mean ‘<i>someone sent</i>’ it to y-?” Sildara fell silent, glancing over at the programmer, who was typing away on her terminal a few meters away from them.
Adriel shook his head, indicating that he was mistaken. “No, not her.” He pointed his finger at his screen. “Look at this.”
The communications specialist looked at Goten’s photo on the screen. “So what?” he muttered, starting to read the profile. “I don’t get why you’re so excited about such a…” he trailed off, continuing to read silently. “Oh, shit,” he muttered, his eyes quickly swallowing the text in large chunks.
The navigator nodded. He pointed at a particular paragraph on the screen. “He had a gang! A gang, for fuck’s sake!”
“It was just a bunch of kids,” Sildara said, rolling his eyes. He stood up and returned to his terminal. “Besides, it was mostly only third-classes anyway.” He unfastened his chair and started dragging it over to Adriel’s terminal.
“Who went against second-classes and elites. Can you freakin’ imagine that? Why isn’t he locked up? And you just look at this,” the navigator said, after Sildara had sat down next to him. He opened Goten’s profile from Hataro Officer Training School.
“Oh, he got drunk in the kitchens, watched porn, and then got two years of kitchen duty.” Sildara started laughing. He clapped his lover on his shoulder. “That’s our type of guy!”
Adriel rolled his eyes. “Here, look here. He took part in the fight at Laundromats, also the brawl of massive proportions near the kitchens.”
“Damn, he was chosen to represent his School in friendly games with Longdam. That’s awesome!”
Annoyed by his lover’s fascination with the newbie, Adriel sighed. “Yes, he was the squad leader and they won. Fucking great. Here.” He pointed at a particular paragraph which enumerated the days Goten had spent in medical bay. “Look at his medical records. He spent so much time at med-bay that it’s scary!”
“He found the stolen guns, blew up in their training hall and…Oh man! Some chick said he was the father of her kid.”
“That was just slander,” Adriel pointed out.
“Yeah?”
“Yes, here.” Adriel’s finger hung in front of the screen. “See the report?”
“Aww… She lied. But goddamn!”
“Now read here.”
Sildara read silently, then looked at Adriel. “Hey, hey, is this for real?”
The navigator gave him a serious look. “He saved a Vegeta’s life. How is that for ‘real’? And did you see who all these reports were written by?”
“Are you serious?” Sildara muttered, scrolling over the reports anew. “Well, fuck me!”
“Yeah, His Highness Himself. He was the shaii at the school.”
Sildara and Adriel stared at each other for a few seconds, not certain what to make of this. Finally, Sildara shrugged. He looked back at the screen. “Okay, I bet a hundred credits that Reyn will mop the floor with his ass.”
“Funny you say that, because the one who sent the file to me said he put a thousand credits on Goten.”
Sildara’s eyebrows rose in disbelief. “Who the fuck sent you that letter?”
“There is no sender. Well, there is, but it’s my own email.”
“They hacked your email?”
“No, don’t think so. They probably just typed in my own address before sending. You can do that.”
“Really? I had no idea.”
Adriel rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I put fifty on Reyn as well. Goten made him seriously mad, he won’t hold back now.”
<center>ooOoOoOoo</center>
Goten entered the training room and then took a step back in surprise. However, he had to move from the entrance to let the door close. Nearly all members of <i>Starcut</i> were present. They were sitting on the floor or leaning against the walls, engaged in friendly chatter. The noise ceased, though, when they saw Goten come in. If they had been allowed to unscrew chairs from the floor, some of the crew members would have definitely brought them here to enjoy the show.
The third-class could even see both the captain and the backup captain amongst the gawkers. Clearly there were bets involved. He had spent enough time with Toharu and Kyon to know that. That knowledge, at least, made Goten less anxious, as he knew that there were bound to be those who had bet on him and who would be happy if he won; not everyone would turn against him.
After noticing Goten enter, Adriel walked over to him. “Quite a crowd, huh?”
Casting his eyes around the room one more time, the third-class nodded. “What are the odds?” he asked.
Adriel masked his surprise quickly. “Well, most of the crew went for Reyn. You’re my favorite, though, so I put my bets on you.”
Amused, Goten chuckled. “Liar.”
Adriel laughed out in unexpectedness. “Hey, what do you know? You aren’t as naïve as you appear to be.”
Goten winked at him. “Fifty credits on me winning this fight.”
“Sure,” Adriel agreed, grinning at him. “Do you have the cash?”
“Well, no, only my credit card. Is that a problem?”
Adriel gave him a scrutinizing look, then shrugged. “Usually it is, but never mind.”
Reyn entered the gravity room right on time. Just like Goten, he seemed to be taken aback by the number of spectators. He observed them, then, deciding to just ignore everyone, headed for the youngest crew member.
Goten, after having made the deal with Adriel, had sat down on the floor. Now he stood up and went to meet Reyn. The third-class finally had a good opportunity to take a more evaluating look at him. Reyn was of similar height as him, only a few centimeters taller. Undoubtedly, he was older than Goten as well. From the look of it, he could be from twenty-four to thirty, and the third-class's approximate guess was that he was twenty-five or twenty-six. He wore his hair short and his face wasn’t memorable at all: average facial features on an oval face. It was no wonder that Goten hadn’t been able to remember Reyn’s name previously.
“Will we up the gravity?” Goten asked when they approached each other.
“Are you used to fighting in increased gravity?” the second-class asked him, even though he believed he knew the answer already.
“Well, no.”
“Why did you bring it up in the first place, then?” Reyn said, rolling his eyes. He motioned at the third-class. “Need to warm up?”
Goten nodded. It appeared that, despite the fact that Reyn disliked him, he was a fair and straightforward guy. The third-class found this endearing. Reyn had moved away from him to do warm up exercises, and Goten watched him with interest. Unlike Jadenas, Reyn was good. The third-class could decipher that much from the way the flight officer moved – he was smooth and confident. There was much power behind those simple warm up moves. Goten wondered if he had been too full of himself to have bet on his own name.
Indeed, he had been. And it didn’t even have anything to do with the fact that Goten really believed that he would win. He simply shouldn’t have done it. He didn’t need to prove anything to anyone, and he shouldn’t be fighting the strongest guy in the crew – he didn’t need to draw so much attention towards himself.
Cursing softly under his breath, the third-class got down to his own warm up. He felt as if he had set his foot into a carefully arranged trap. Of his own volition, at that.
TBC
Warnings: Alternate Universe. Yaoi (male x male). Goten x Trunks and vice versa. Other pairings.
A/N: <b>Starcut’s crew members</b>:
1. Captain
2. Backup Captain
3. Master Sergeant
4. Navigator - (Adriel)
5. Communications Specialist - (Sildara)
6. Programmer - (Rokunda)
7. Gunnery Sergeant - (Monteira Fawa)
8. Arms Specialist
9. Arms Specialist
10. Flight Officer - (Reyn Dueri)
11. Flight Officer - (Jadenas Ealt)
12. Head Engineer - (Nohail Ofura)
13. Maintenance Technician
14. Maintenance Technician
15. Doctor - (Tamahi)
16. Medic
17. Head Cook
18. Cook
19. Soldier - (Edesha)
20. Goten
<b>Barracks</b>
by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by quatreofdoom
Part 29
Tamahi looked over at the door which had just slid open. The gunnery sergeant walked in to the medical room, and the doctor greeted him with a nod. Monteira headed straight for the operating table where Goten lay and gave his still form a disapproving look.
“Is he still sleeping?” the gunnery sergeant asked although it was obvious that Goten was. He folded his hands behind his back and stood motionless while staring at Goten.
“He woke up two hours ago, then went to sleep again. He seemed to be fine,” the doctor added.
“So what’s wrong with him?"
“Well, there is this light hormonal instability, weird brain wave pattern, and…” the doctor trailed off.
“And that means?”
The doctor leaned back in his chair. “Nothing much: that insignificant hormonal change is commonly called sexual frustration. That strange brain wave pattern…” He shrugged. “I have no idea, but it stopped as soon as he woke up and now it has disappeared completely.”
The gunnery sergeant gave him an impatient look. “So what the hell is wrong with him?”
“Nothing, I think,” the doctor admitted. “It seems he’s just sleeping.”
The gunnery sergeant’s eyes left Goten’s face and looked at the doctor. “Why?”
The doctor cleared his throat. He always found it difficult to deal with the straightforward gunnery sergeant, whose list of excusable illnesses included only broken bones, an absent head, and death in general.
“I am inclined to think that this is a psychological matter,” Tamahi said.
“Is he schizophrenic?”
The doctor sighed. “No, Monteira, he is not. He’s just…” Tamahi wondered if he should tell the sergeant anything at all. Monteira wasn’t good with subtleties and there was a risk that he would begin disliking and looking down on Goten. However, Goten was young, and the sergeant always had a soft spot for youngsters.
“Psychology is not my field, but I’ve met Goten before,” he started. “He seems to have had a difficult time before coming here: his school was attacked, his best friend seems to have died, his father is still in a regeneration tank, and then Goten was sent here. I think all of this happened in the span of two days. In addition to all that, some of us haven’t been very hospitable either.”
“Reyn was just fucking around.”
“Well, yes, but Goten didn’t know that.”
“So you are telling me that he’s sleeping because he has no balls to face reality?”
“Err… Well, more or less,” the doctor agreed. “I think he’s just doing some catching up with the facts. This is not that uncommon.”
“Just great!” the sergeant growled. “So next time we are attacked he’s going to just fall asleep? Is this what you’re telling me?”
“Well, he didn’t fall asleep when Reyn picked on him.”
“Reyn was just fucking around!” Monteira repeated angrily, but the doctor could already see sparks lighting up in his eyes. “But damn, he whammed Reyn’s face into that soup like a real professional!”
“I don’t think there are any people making a living out of that,” Tamahi pointed out.
Monteira grinned at him. “There was even a fountain!”
The doctor chuckled. “If you say so.”
The gunnery sergeant spared Goten another look. “I’m going to have a stern talk with the brat as soon as he wakes up; he needs some serious disciplining. Tell him that.”
“Certainly.”
“And why is he lying on the operating table?”
“I don’t really know. Jadenas and Sildara put him there, so I just left him lying on it.”
“But you did say he had woken up?”
The doctor shrugged. “Well, he lay down on it again. I don’t know why. Maybe he likes it, or maybe he thought he was supposed to.”
“Actually, is there anything in his medical history about these sleep spells?”
“No, not really, just a bunch of broken bones and some serious ki burns. He did mention that he had suffered from migraine attacks, but this is quite different. Besides, he has also had a few concussions; the migraines might be just a side-effect of them.”
“Ah well, just keep an eye on him.”
“Sure.”
“See you at lunch, then.”
“See you,” the doctor said, waving Goten’s printed out medical history in the air as a goodbye. The door slid closed behind the gunnery sergeant’s back and the doctor’s chair swiveled back to face his desk. He continued to study the documents.
A few minutes later, the door slid open again. “He’s still asleep,” the doctor said without raising his eyes off the papers. In the past three days, while Goten was asleep, he had been visited by nearly everyone. Some even showed up a few times. Currently, Goten was the main attraction in their boring lives.
“Yeah, I can see that. I came because of my nose.”
The doctor’s chair swiveled towards the door where Reyn stood. “Ah,” the doctor said. “Monteira and I were just talking about you. He was admiring the way your face splashed Goten’s soup around so professionally.”
Reyn rolled his eyes. “Give me a break already. I had a row with my father and was a little pissed off with the situation in general, so I thought I’d let off some steam. No big deal.”
“You are lucky he didn’t put your eye out with a fork, you idiot,” the doctor admonished.
“Well, he didn’t look the type,” Reyn said, walking over to the doctor. He took the chair in front of the doctor.
The doctor felt compelled to tell Reyn that, due to the fact that Goten was a third-class, and had somehow managed to survive Hataro Officer Training School and even the attack on it, and then got sent to space with them, there was a very high possibility that Goten was exactly the type.
“It’s those harmless-looking ones who catch you unaware,” Tamahi said, wheeling with his chair closer to Reyn; his chair was probably the only one which wasn’t welded into the floor.
“Truer words have never been uttered,” Reyn said, wincing when the doctor prodded at his nose. “The bastard got me good.” The plaster had been taken off yesterday. Reyn’s face underneath looked like it had been run over by a tank. He was planning to have a little reckoning with the newbie concerning that when the bastard finally woke up.
<center>ooOoOoOoo</center>
Goten was in the briefing hall. He had managed to locate the controls that operated the electronic devices in the room and lifted the metallic shield off the screen to reveal the vastness of space behind it. The chairs were screwed into the floor and they were farther away from the screen than Goten would have liked, thus he sat down on the floor, with his nose nearly touching the glass. This was what he had always dreamed of seeing since he had started going to paramilitary school. In fact, just like any other boy.
Sitting alone in the briefing hall, staring at blinking dots in the darkness, the third-class realized that this was not something he could do for long – he would get bored. He had also seen a varicolored nebula, which had been a wondrous sight, but when he had tried to turn on the terminal in the hall to identify it, the terminal asked him for the password. With that, his educational program was concluded.
The main reason Goten was sitting alone in the hall gazing at the stars was that he had just been nagged at by the gunnery sergeant. The third-class knew he was childishly sulking, but he fretted that all of his conversations were going to be similar. He had just left the medical room and the prospect of everyone trying to teach him how to lead his life was horrifying.
Goten was under the impression that the gunnery sergeant believed that, in addition to being a coward, he also had a screw loose. He had been talking to him slowly and deliberately and also repeated things a few times. The damn doctor must have mentioned something about his stupid brainwaves. Now the whole ship would think that he was a schizophrenic sissy.
Well, maybe he was.
Goten sighed. The dream had been something…to remember. It was the hottest dream he had ever had, and it also made him feel a little like a whore. Technically, it had just been something his frustrated mind had conjured, but there was almost always a reason behind dreams like that. He didn’t particularly want to go there. Not when it concerned his brother, his dead friend, an elite prince, and an entire crowd of onlookers.
The stars winked at him tauntingly. He had never imagined his flight into space would be like this: he was not enthusiastic about it, nor did he know the purpose of his presence on the ship. It somehow felt like a waste of a fulfilled dream. Goten looked at his reflection on the screen. His new uniform looked strange on him, but it was probably just because he still needed time to get used to its blue color. His hair was of average length already. Had been for quite some time, in fact, only he had been too busy to notice. It was, however, still distinguishably short for someone on board. His shoulders felt bare as well.
There was also the feeling of helplessness present – whatever the crew thought of him, he had had no choice in the matter - his life didn’t belong to him.
Goten didn’t want to leave the safety of the briefing room, thus he lingered in it idly until he fell asleep again. He woke up twenty minutes later to the sound of something whirring softly. The third-class looked around, then realized that the sound was coming from a black creature next to his side. Its eyes were closed, but it obviously wasn’t asleep, as the sound didn’t cease even for a second. It was puffy and also smelled of worn socks.
Carefully, Goten reached out for the thick fur. He laid his hand on the creature and the whirring sound intensified. This was the first time he had ever seen a creature like this. He wasn’t certain if animals were allowed on board, but maybe they were as this one was here. It also had a leather collar. Something hard and round touched Goten’s fingers and he pushed the fur aside to examine it. It read: <i>Mr. Elite</i>. Confused, Goten turned the metallic object around where he read: <i>Starcut</i>. So this was the property of <i>Starcut</i>.
Goten petted the animal for a few more minutes, then stood up. He was hungry. He took the return of his appetite as a good sign. The animal didn’t follow him and Goten left it where it was. Steeling himself for the inevitable, he made his way towards the kitchen. Men quieted when he passed them, but, as they didn’t make fun of him, Goten could tell the gunnery sergeant had kept his mouth closed. The third-class understood that his encounter with Reyn had done him a favor – instead of being hostile, now everyone seemed to be rather amused. He even received a few greetings. Goten felt malicious glee overtake him – if all it took was to bash Reyn’s face in, he could do that any time! Even a few more faces could be in order!
Dinner was still a few hours away, but Goten talked the cook into giving him leftovers. Since they technically belonged to Goten, as he had missed out on eating while staying in the medical room, the cook wasn’t stingy about it. After eating, Goten returned to his cabin. The musty smell slapped his face like a wet towel. Goten found an old T-shirt its previous owner had abandoned in the wardrobe, then set off on a quest for a bucket and cleaning liquid. After asking around and receiving curious looks, he finally obtained both from one of the maintenance technicians.
Goten thought of himself as a tidy person. He had also been the one to clean their room in the barracks. True, that had only happened once in a half-year, but still, he was a rare gem amongst Saiyans. One could trust him not to have half-eaten sandwiches, used condoms, and dirty underwear lying around (Goten wasn’t certain about used condoms – that might still come).
In two hours, Goten’s kingdom of about 15 square meters was sparkling: he had gathered the broken glass from the lamp that had exploded; he had thrown the bottles and the slice of dried pizza away and cleaned the wardrobe; he had wiped the desk/dinner table and the impassive terminal off; he sorted the magazines and cleaned the cupboard; he had also taken the plush penguin outside into the corridor and beaten the dust out of it; he had washed his old uniform and one of the sheet sets so that it would be dry tomorrow and he could change the bedding.
Content, the third-class cast his eyes over the dripping clothing on the rope he had stretched from one corner of the room to another. He had tied one end of the rope to the wires and cables above the door while the other was fastened to the wardrobe. There was hardly any place left to move around, but that was nothing in exchange for clean bedding and clothes.
Goten leaned against the door and patted his pockets absentmindedly. He stuck his hands into them and wiggled his fingers about. Frowning, he wiggled them about much more actively. Nothing. He turned his pockets inside out. Empty.
The fucking telephone number was gone.
Had he lost it? Had somebody taken it? The third-class tried to reconstruct the chain of events in his memory: the number had fluttered to the ground when he had changed uniforms, then he had picked it up and pocketed it into his new uniform. It was really gone. He needed to check the medical room and the toilets, just in case he had dropped it there. Goten’s gaze went out to the wet clothing on the rope. Well, if anyone found out who the number belonged to, he had enough rope to hang himself with. Or to hang someone else. Huffing loudly, he leaned his head back against the cool metal of the door.
He had known it was going to be a pain in the ass, the number. He should have torn it up and thrown it away at once. Why the hell had he kept it? He doubted he was going to meet the prince ever again. Well, maybe that was why he had kept it – as a memento of sorts.
The third-class nearly fell over when the door let out a soft ping behind him and slid open, taking away his support. Stupefied, he watched the same black animal waltz into his cabin. Why in the world had the door opened for it? The creature sniffed around, trotted forwards and backwards, then turned its backside to the wall and let out a few sprays of piss. Goten grabbed the first thing under his hand, which happened to be the penguin, and threw it at the animal. The creature screeched horribly and shot away from the wall. It took a few minutes for the third-class to chase it out of his cabin, then a few more to wipe the wall off. Yet, he could feel the “deodorant” lingering in the air. Damn animal.
It was dinner-time and Goten headed for the canteen. He had eaten two hours ago, but the cleaning had made him hungry again, not to mention he had been lying about without eating for the last three days.
Indeed, the crew’s interest in Goten had wound down with startling speed. The canteen hardly stirred when the third-class entered. Goten received his share from the cook and looked around for an empty seat. All six tables were bustling. Probably nearly everyone was present, because now he had to pick a place from six available seats. There was one free at the gunnery sergeant’s side, but, after having listened to Monteira’s one hour lecturing monologue just after waking up, Goten would rather go hungry than sit there. Another seat was opposite Reyn, but Goten would rather shoot himself. The third was next to the captain, but Goten couldn’t allow himself such liberty yet. There were two seats available on both the left and right side of the programmer, but the third-class treasured his family jewels too much to risk them. The last one seemed to be the most appropriate, even though Goten would have avoided it if he had been able to: it was next to Adriel, the navigator.
Adriel beamed at Goten as soon as he sat down at his right side. “So, I hear you have done some spring cleaning?”
Sighing inwardly, the third-class nodded. There wasn’t much space on the table either for arranging his plates, so he left his food on the tray. He glanced at the communications specialist opposite him. Sildara had nodded at Goten to acknowledge his presence, but otherwise paid him no attention. Somehow, these two were always together. <i>Well, duh</i>, Goten thought, after remembering the doctor telling him that the two were lovers.
“So how is it going?”
“The gunnery sergeant chewed the hell out of me,” Goten muttered, not particularly eager to continue the conversation. The other three men sitting around the table were eating with a kind of noiselessness which told him that they were trying to catch every word. Goten looked at the small piece of meat on his fork. He had no idea what animal it had once been, but it smelled okay, so he pushed it past his lips.
“Monteira?” Adriel wondered. “Well, yeah. He tends to bitch and moan about our lack of discipline a lot.”
“Not that it helps,” Sildara said, with a snicker, from the opposite side of the table. He motioned with his head towards Adriel. “Especially in your case.”
With his spoon, Adriel scooped up some cabbage salad off his plate and shot it at Sildara.
“Fucking idiot,” the communications specialist cursed, wiping the cabbage off his uniform.
“Careful, you moron,” the head engineer sitting at Sildara’s side warned, looking at himself to check if he had been splashed as well. “Where the fuck do you think you are? In a kindergarten?”
Adriel scowled at him.
“Listen,” Goten said after eating silently for a few minutes, “there was this black thing in the briefing room and it followed me to my cabin. What the heck is it?”
“Black thing? Must be Mister Elite,” Adriel said.
Goten looked incredulous. “It’s his name? Why? And what is it?”
“A cat. It’s a cat,” the navigator explained. “A pet,” he said, when it didn’t seem that it was any clearer for the newbie. “He is just Monteira’s pet.”
Goten blinked. “The gunnery sergeant’s? Isn’t that against the rules?”
Sildara shrugged indifferently. “He found Mister Elite on Jomen colony, in the Terran Republic. He was starved and half-dead and somehow Monteira picked him up.”
“Just a whim, I suppose,” Adriel said.
“Unlike you, Monteira doesn’t do anything on a whim,” Sildara protested.
Adriel glared at him. “Will you freakin’ stop criticizing me?”
Now Goten knew what the doctor had been talking about. The communications specialist and the navigator were one of those couples who were constantly nagging at each other, but once you tried to get in between them, you could expect them to unanimously beat the crap out of you for so much as offering to buy the other a cup of tea.
The medic, who had been eating on Adriel’s left side, finished his dinner and stood up, Adriel shifting over to make Goten more room on the bench. Goten didn’t get to enjoy the additional space for long, though, as Reyn settled comfortably at his side.
“What’s up?” he asked, lowering his metallic mug of tea on the table. He smiled at Goten encouragingly. “How do you feel?”
Everyone at the table and the surrounding ones tensed. Not certain what to expect, the third-class inspected Reyn’s bruised nose with a certain amount of fondness.
“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” he said. “How is your nose?”
Reyn didn’t even blink, but his smile widened up to his ears. “It’s getting better. Thank you for worrying.” He lifted his mug to slurp at the tea noisily, then lowered it back onto the table. “I was wondering here. Three days of sleep must have bored you out of your head. Why don’t we go to the training room for a friendly spar?”
Ah.
Goten groaned inwardly. He was aware how quiet it had become in the canteen. Reyn was probably a formidable opponent. The third-class hoped that he would manage to avoid fighting him. Gods only knew how the rest of the crew would take it after he broke Reyn’s nose again. Everyone might start ignoring or picking on him. Right now he could at least socialize with most of them.
Goten blinked when he saw everyone’s expectant gazes directed at him. Right, he hadn’t given his answer yet. “Sure,” he said. “When?”
<center>ooOoOoOoo</center>
A training room with adjustable gravity was a thing of luxury on any spaceship. However, it was necessary equipment if one didn’t want soldiers to be taken out with one punch. Space traveling during a mission or patrolling could last for months and there was hardly anything else to do on a ship. It was preferable for soldiers to spend at least a few hours a day in a training room in order to maintain their physical condition, instead of playing cards.
Goten took in the room. The walls were covered in ki-absorbing material. It seemed to be of better quality than that he was used to seeing on the base; protecting the walls of a spaceship was serious business. At first glance, the room seemed to be about a hundred square meters. It was pretty large for a spaceship of <i>Starcut’s</i> size.
“Lovely, isn’t it?” Jadenas asked.
Goten nodded. He didn’t tell his neighbor that he had already been shown around in the training room by the doctor. The flight officer had offered to take him to the room immediately after dinner, and Goten had decided to accept the offer just to strengthen the connection between them. He liked the pilot, and he seemed like a good companion to keep around. He was also the one to check on Goten when he hadn’t shown up for meals.
“You know, I don’t want to dampen your spirit,” the pilot said, “but Reyn will beat the crap out of you. There’s no one on this ship who can stand up to him.”
Goten was surprised. “He doesn’t look it,” he said, walking deeper into the training room towards the terminal.
“Yeah,” Jadenas agreed. “That’s a part of the problem. He looks like your average guy until you get into a fight with him.” He shook his head at what he read on Goten’s face. “Actually, he’s usually quite passive. However, something happened before we boarded and he took it out on you. He can be like that.”
“Like he broke up with his boyfriend, you mean?”
The flight officer shrugged. “Could be.” Goten guessed from his expression that Jadenas didn’t believe that Reyn had a boyfriend.
Interested, the third-class inspected the terminal. It was a small square screen with keys set into the wall. It was unlike what Goten was used to. Usually the control panel was outside the gravity room so as not to get damaged. This one had a see-through lid to protect it though.
“It’s not glass,” Jadenas explained, knocking on the thin lid with his knuckles. “This stuff is as tough as these walls.” He brushed over the wall with his palms. “Maybe even tougher.”
Goten followed his example and brushed with his fingers over the lid, then lifted it to touch the panel. It was locked and the request to unlock it floated out onto the small screen. The surface was cool and smooth. Goten looked at the screen again, then entered the usual combination which was used to lock and unlock electronic devices to prevent them from turning on or off from accidental touch.
“I didn’t train much in amplified gravity,” Goten confessed, the terminal beeping softly, granting the access. “A few times only.” The keys started to blink readily under Goten’s fingers and he moved aside to let Jadenas through; he didn’t trust himself not to mess something up.
“Want to try?”
The third-class’s face lit up like a thousand suns. “Sure!”
Jadenas laughed at his overflowing enthusiasm. “Here, you push this button to increase gravity, and then use this key,” he demonstrated, holding his finger above the button. “And the opposite one is for decreasing it,” he said pointing. “The red one is for an emergency – it shuts down the whole gravity room at once.”
“Oh, that’s pretty easy to use.”
The pilot nodded. He advised that, in case Goten felt that the gravity was too much or was increased too suddenly, he could easily solve the problem by powering up and putting on a ki-shield.
The flight officer pressed the “increase” button and the blinking numbers shot up on the screen. Making pauses, he tapped on the key a few times to gradually increase the gravity. Goten gasped, his eyes bulging out at the suddenly heightened weight of his body. It was pulling him down to the ground so much that he wondered if he would be able to make a step. While studying, he had tried a few gravity rooms, but this felt vastly different.
The third-class watched the pilot lower the lid over the control panel. They moved into the middle of the room. Goten started doing warm up exercises, and Jadenas followed him.
“I’m not that good a fighter,” Jadenas admitted when they were standing in front of each other, ready to fight.
Goten had figured that much. However, if at first he had believed that he could easily overwhelm Jadenas, now he was much less certain about that; Jadenas was used to sparring in increased gravity and he could be much stronger and faster than Goten in conditions like these. In any case, Goten was very interested in trying out the gravity room.
Jadenas attacked first, the third-class blocking him. Goten’s arms felt leaden, and he grunted when the pilot’s fist connected with his left arm. He kicked out at the pilot’s chest, throwing him down. Clumsily, Jadenas tried to sweep Goten off his feet, but the third-class simply stepped away from him. Were this not a friendly spar, the Goten would have kicked the pilot down again while he was trying to get to his feet.
The second-class’s foot lashed out. Goten blocked it and punched Jadenas so hard that he flew backwards. Only at the last moment, he managed to land in a half-crouch instead of dropping to the floor on his side. But Goten was already there, his boot whooshing through the air where the pilot’s head had been a millisecond ago. Jadenas shifted backwards, but Goten’s left knee got him in the shoulder while he was trying to stand up. He staggered back, but managed to block Goten’s backhand aimed at the side of his head.
Goten lowered his hand and retreated a few steps, allowing Jadenas to stand up. The third-class felt much heavier and clumsier than usual, but it was obvious to him now that he still had a very big speed advantage over the flight officer. This time Goten attacked first, his fists quick and merciless. He didn’t aim for the pilot’s head, targeting his chest instead. Although the punches hardly moved the second-class from his spot on the floor, the force behind them made the pilot feel as if something had exploded inside him. While Jadenas stood gasping for air, Goten’s foot kicked out for his chin, throwing him back, then his other foot kicked at the pilot’s stomach while he was still in air, sending him bent over backwards and into the wall.
The flight officer hit the wall and dropped to all fours. He stayed down on the floor, coughing and trying to get his breathing back. He realized that if Goten had put as much power in his kicks as in his punches, his head would have been torn off his shoulders and his stomach ruined. Through the buzzing in his ears, he could hear the younger male approaching and shook his head.
“No more,” he gasped, putting out his right arm defensively, suddenly anxious that, affected by the fervor of the fight, Goten wouldn’t stop. “We are done.”
“Alright.”
Blinking the sweat out of his eyes, Jadenas looked up at Goten, who had already turned sideways and was going in the direction of the control panel to reduce the gravity. Jadenas lowered his arm; the youth wasn’t aggressive. Their fight was over, and Goten had no interest in him. The boy’s breathing was without any change – calm and even. Jadenas laughed at his unfounded fears. He choked and started coughing, rubbing at his chest. “You broke something in there,” he accused.
Confused by his laughter, Goten stopped and gave him a questioning look. He shook his head. “Nah. Should pass in a couple of minutes.”
“Lovely.”
<center>ooOoOoOoo</center>
“Sildara, come here for a moment.”
The communications specialist’s eyes left his screen and looked over at Adriel on the other side of the captain’s bridge. Currently, there were only three of them here: he, Adriel, and Rokunda.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Just come here.”
Huffing, Sildara left his terminal and walked over to his lover. “Well?”
The navigator pointed at something on his monitor. “Look here.”
“What’s that?”
“Just read it!” the navigator snapped at him. “You can read, can’t you?”
The communications specialist took another look at Adriel’s screen. It was the new guy’s profile. The crew members could not and were not allowed to access personal information without the captain’s permission – it was a severe breach of protocol which could be punished even by demotion. “Listen, Adriel, this is pretty illegal,” Sildara warned.
“Shh, you idiot!” the navigator shushed him. “Yeah, I know. But someone sent it to me.”
“What do you mean ‘<i>someone sent</i>’ it to y-?” Sildara fell silent, glancing over at the programmer, who was typing away on her terminal a few meters away from them.
Adriel shook his head, indicating that he was mistaken. “No, not her.” He pointed his finger at his screen. “Look at this.”
The communications specialist looked at Goten’s photo on the screen. “So what?” he muttered, starting to read the profile. “I don’t get why you’re so excited about such a…” he trailed off, continuing to read silently. “Oh, shit,” he muttered, his eyes quickly swallowing the text in large chunks.
The navigator nodded. He pointed at a particular paragraph on the screen. “He had a gang! A gang, for fuck’s sake!”
“It was just a bunch of kids,” Sildara said, rolling his eyes. He stood up and returned to his terminal. “Besides, it was mostly only third-classes anyway.” He unfastened his chair and started dragging it over to Adriel’s terminal.
“Who went against second-classes and elites. Can you freakin’ imagine that? Why isn’t he locked up? And you just look at this,” the navigator said, after Sildara had sat down next to him. He opened Goten’s profile from Hataro Officer Training School.
“Oh, he got drunk in the kitchens, watched porn, and then got two years of kitchen duty.” Sildara started laughing. He clapped his lover on his shoulder. “That’s our type of guy!”
Adriel rolled his eyes. “Here, look here. He took part in the fight at Laundromats, also the brawl of massive proportions near the kitchens.”
“Damn, he was chosen to represent his School in friendly games with Longdam. That’s awesome!”
Annoyed by his lover’s fascination with the newbie, Adriel sighed. “Yes, he was the squad leader and they won. Fucking great. Here.” He pointed at a particular paragraph which enumerated the days Goten had spent in medical bay. “Look at his medical records. He spent so much time at med-bay that it’s scary!”
“He found the stolen guns, blew up in their training hall and…Oh man! Some chick said he was the father of her kid.”
“That was just slander,” Adriel pointed out.
“Yeah?”
“Yes, here.” Adriel’s finger hung in front of the screen. “See the report?”
“Aww… She lied. But goddamn!”
“Now read here.”
Sildara read silently, then looked at Adriel. “Hey, hey, is this for real?”
The navigator gave him a serious look. “He saved a Vegeta’s life. How is that for ‘real’? And did you see who all these reports were written by?”
“Are you serious?” Sildara muttered, scrolling over the reports anew. “Well, fuck me!”
“Yeah, His Highness Himself. He was the shaii at the school.”
Sildara and Adriel stared at each other for a few seconds, not certain what to make of this. Finally, Sildara shrugged. He looked back at the screen. “Okay, I bet a hundred credits that Reyn will mop the floor with his ass.”
“Funny you say that, because the one who sent the file to me said he put a thousand credits on Goten.”
Sildara’s eyebrows rose in disbelief. “Who the fuck sent you that letter?”
“There is no sender. Well, there is, but it’s my own email.”
“They hacked your email?”
“No, don’t think so. They probably just typed in my own address before sending. You can do that.”
“Really? I had no idea.”
Adriel rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I put fifty on Reyn as well. Goten made him seriously mad, he won’t hold back now.”
<center>ooOoOoOoo</center>
Goten entered the training room and then took a step back in surprise. However, he had to move from the entrance to let the door close. Nearly all members of <i>Starcut</i> were present. They were sitting on the floor or leaning against the walls, engaged in friendly chatter. The noise ceased, though, when they saw Goten come in. If they had been allowed to unscrew chairs from the floor, some of the crew members would have definitely brought them here to enjoy the show.
The third-class could even see both the captain and the backup captain amongst the gawkers. Clearly there were bets involved. He had spent enough time with Toharu and Kyon to know that. That knowledge, at least, made Goten less anxious, as he knew that there were bound to be those who had bet on him and who would be happy if he won; not everyone would turn against him.
After noticing Goten enter, Adriel walked over to him. “Quite a crowd, huh?”
Casting his eyes around the room one more time, the third-class nodded. “What are the odds?” he asked.
Adriel masked his surprise quickly. “Well, most of the crew went for Reyn. You’re my favorite, though, so I put my bets on you.”
Amused, Goten chuckled. “Liar.”
Adriel laughed out in unexpectedness. “Hey, what do you know? You aren’t as naïve as you appear to be.”
Goten winked at him. “Fifty credits on me winning this fight.”
“Sure,” Adriel agreed, grinning at him. “Do you have the cash?”
“Well, no, only my credit card. Is that a problem?”
Adriel gave him a scrutinizing look, then shrugged. “Usually it is, but never mind.”
Reyn entered the gravity room right on time. Just like Goten, he seemed to be taken aback by the number of spectators. He observed them, then, deciding to just ignore everyone, headed for the youngest crew member.
Goten, after having made the deal with Adriel, had sat down on the floor. Now he stood up and went to meet Reyn. The third-class finally had a good opportunity to take a more evaluating look at him. Reyn was of similar height as him, only a few centimeters taller. Undoubtedly, he was older than Goten as well. From the look of it, he could be from twenty-four to thirty, and the third-class's approximate guess was that he was twenty-five or twenty-six. He wore his hair short and his face wasn’t memorable at all: average facial features on an oval face. It was no wonder that Goten hadn’t been able to remember Reyn’s name previously.
“Will we up the gravity?” Goten asked when they approached each other.
“Are you used to fighting in increased gravity?” the second-class asked him, even though he believed he knew the answer already.
“Well, no.”
“Why did you bring it up in the first place, then?” Reyn said, rolling his eyes. He motioned at the third-class. “Need to warm up?”
Goten nodded. It appeared that, despite the fact that Reyn disliked him, he was a fair and straightforward guy. The third-class found this endearing. Reyn had moved away from him to do warm up exercises, and Goten watched him with interest. Unlike Jadenas, Reyn was good. The third-class could decipher that much from the way the flight officer moved – he was smooth and confident. There was much power behind those simple warm up moves. Goten wondered if he had been too full of himself to have bet on his own name.
Indeed, he had been. And it didn’t even have anything to do with the fact that Goten really believed that he would win. He simply shouldn’t have done it. He didn’t need to prove anything to anyone, and he shouldn’t be fighting the strongest guy in the crew – he didn’t need to draw so much attention towards himself.
Cursing softly under his breath, the third-class got down to his own warm up. He felt as if he had set his foot into a carefully arranged trap. Of his own volition, at that.
TBC