Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Broken Seal ❯ Conscience and the Kings ( Chapter 10 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

Krillin peered gingerly around the doorframe. There he saw the back of King Vegeta, superimposed over the gargantuan form of King Yemma, who himself had his back turned. The former was leaning over the front of his mammoth desk, one hand pressed against its surface, and the other holding the lustrous, black receiver of his telephone to his head. It seemed that either he had ignored the raucous goings on of only moments earlier, or had been so engrossed in his conversation that he had not noticed it at all.

Krillin proceeded carefully through the towering doorway, so as not to disturb King Yemma from his discourse. The doors were now wide open. Both bore dark scorch marks upon there otherwise untainted red paintwork, at about Vegeta's head height. The two defeated sentinels swung gently from their hinges, as if panting from the exertion of a battle lost. Looking about the office, Krillin was reminded of just how impressive and intimidating the scale of this place was. The room was the size of a large house, its off-white walls looming up on all sides. At the heart of the room stood Yemma's desk, itself the size of a small building, which seemed to look down in judgement upon the diminutively proportioned souls that stood before it.

Krillin continued to move stealthily across the tiled floor, trying to quell the soft tapping of his shoes against the rigid surface.

"King Yemma!" Vegeta called, "I would speak with you."

Krillin winced, expecting an angry response from the ogre. Through squinting eyes, the fighter gazed up at Yemma. The demon didn't turn around. Instead, he raised his free hand from the desk, and waved away what for him was still an anonymous visitor. Krillin felt some measure of relief at this temperate response, but it was short lived.

"King Yemma!" Vegeta persisted, "I must speak with you at once."

At this, Krillin gave up his attempts to remain quiet. It was quite obvious that Vegeta intended to attract Yemma's attention regardless of how inopportune his timing.

Yemma raised his free hand once more, this time placing the giant paw over the mouthpiece.

"Not now!" he rasped, still not looking back to his addresser.

He then continued with his conversation,

"Yes . . . yes. . . I know. . . yes. I've already got every available officer on it. Yes. . . yes. . . no, I haven't got anyone spare. Look, just sit tight. If I get someone free I'll send 'em right over. Uh-huh. . . yeah. . ."

"I will speak with you now!" Vegeta insisted, mid-flow of Yemma's exchange.

"Could. . . could you just hold for a moment?" Yemma sighed into the receiver.

He then placed his hand over the mouthpiece once more, and began to turn towards to Krillin and Vegeta.

"Damn it!" He roared, "Can't you see I'm on the. . ."

He stopped mid sentence as his eyes fell upon the two fighters. The look of anger he had displayed changed to one of surprise. Yemma then raised his hand from the receiver.

"I'll call you back." He stated, and placed the receiver back atop the telephone.

There was a slight resonance from the bell within the telephone as Yemma dropped the receiver onto the hook. The sound echoed around the cavernous office, unchallenged by any other noise as the three occupants of the room beheld one another in silence.

Yemma's attention was focused on Vegeta. The look on the ogre's faced had changed from the initial one of surprise to one that was familiar to Krillin. It was the exact same look he had given the Earthman when he had first set eyes upon him in the seal chamber, an intensely pensive expression denoting deep concentration. Once again, the ogre was attempting to identify an individual from among the unimaginably vast throng of faces that were stored in his memory.

Suddenly, his face altered its stance again. This expression too was familiar to Krillin, as were the words that followed,

"What the hell are you doing here!" Yemma bellowed at Vegeta.

Woah, deja vu; Krillin thought.

He looked over at Vegeta. The King seemed unfazed by the raucous outburst, and continued to glare up at the fuming ogre.

"I would speak with you, King Yemma." Vegeta stated, utilising the assertive yet diplomatic tone of one monarch addressing another.

"Forget it!" Yemma roared, seemingly uninterested in the use of such formal tones, "I've had enough trouble off of your kind for one day! Now, out!"

With that, King Yemma slung a huge finger forwards, thrusting it towards the open door producing a gesture that invited Vegeta to leave. The Saiyan was in no hurry to go, however. His brow furrowed yet further as he strengthened his stare. Though the basic meaning of Yemma's words was fairly obvious to Krillin, he was still unclear as to the exact purpose of the term 'your kind'. Did he mean Saiyans, or all of the damned in general? The fighter deduced from his own experience of Saiyans, with the obvious exceptions of Goku and Gohan, that it was an insignificant detail.

"I will not leave until you grant me an audience." Vegeta insisted, placing one foot forwards.

"Hah! Not a chance!" Yemma replied, "Now hit the road before I call security!"

"What security?" Krillin murmured, in reference to the apparent desertion of all but the irate ogre from the immediate vicinity.

Yemma's angry-red head darted to face Krillin, his giant ears having apparently picked up the fighter's backhanded comment. Krillin's head sank down into his tensed shoulders, driven down by the force of Yemma's disapproving scowl. The ogre then returned to his angry exchange with Vegeta.

"As I was saying," he began, casting a brief, disapproving glance to Krillin, "Either leave, or I'll have you removed!"

"I will not leave until I have been heard!" Vegeta replied, becoming increasingly frustrated at Yemma's stubborn attitude.

It was obvious to Krillin that this conversation had already reached an impasse. The fact that both of the arguing parties were Kings was not helping, as it was apparent that both were accustomed to getting their own way. What worried him now was that, if Vegeta's exploits at the door had been anything to go by, this stand off was in danger of culminating in violence. Once again, the Krillin prepared himself to interject in the fierce exchange.

"Hey guys," he said, gingerly, "Y'know what I think?"

"Silence!" Yemma and Vegeta roared in unison.

Krillin drew his arm up across his face, as if protecting himself from the brutal verbal blow he had received. No sooner had the fighter's interruption been quelled, the two Kings resumed their royal spat. Dropping his defences, Krillin began to wonder if he stood a chance of bringing about a cease fighter between the quarrelling monarchs.

"I will not be ignored, by you or anyone else!" Vegeta warned, taking a step forward and raising a tightly clenched fist before him.

"Even if I wanted to speak to you, and I don't, I just don't have the time!" the ogre informed the Saiyan, "I've got an entire dimension crawling with the likes of you, and limited resources to get 'em back where they belong! I'm short of staff, short of time, and short of patience! Now get outta my face!"

"I am well aware of what has happened here!" Vegeta growled, seemingly at the cusp of attacking Yemma.

But his expression then softened slightly, and he lowered his fist before continuing in a more temperate tone,

"I wish to assist you."

There was a long pause, fuelled by a distinct air of astonishment that had filled the room in the instants after Vegeta had dispensed his words. Krillin looked on, aghast at Vegeta's offer of help in returning the damned, presumably including himself, to the underworld. Yemma too stood slack jawed in surprise. The ogre shook his head, flicking the startled expression from his ample face, and glared down at the Saiyan with an almost amused frown.

"So, let me get this straight." he began, "You. . . want to help me. . . send you back to hell."

"And the others, yes." Vegeta replied.

"Right. . . And what's the catch?" Yemma asked; his voice loaded with scepticism, "I suppose you'll want a full pardon? A kingdom of your own? A one way ticket back to the living world?"

"I want none of these things." Vegeta snarled, apparently offended by the very suggestion that he had an ulterior motive, "I know my place in this world as I knew my place in the last."

"Yeah right." Yemma laughed, "Listen buddy, when you've been around as long as I have, you'll get to realise that there's no such thing as a free lunch. Everyone has a motive, so what's yours?"

At this, Vegeta tore his stare from Yemma. From there, his eyes turned downward. Krillin's eyebrows rose, subtly disclosing his surprise. This was the first time Vegeta had even looked like turning his face downwards.

What's the deal?; Krillin pondered of the King's enigmatic behaviour.

"No answer huh?" Yemma asked; the tone of his voice designed to show a distinct lack of surprise, "That's what I thought. Now stop wasting my time and get out of here. I've got a seal to pick up and a dimension to run."

It was then that Krillin saw his opportunity. Stepping forward and thrusting a finger skywards, he hastily drew breath with the aim of interrupting.

"We can help with that!" He blabbed, garbling the words out as quickly as he could before either king could silence him.

Both looked over to Krillin, and suddenly he found himself awkwardly at the centre of attention. Slowly, his raised arm began to sink down. Several seconds elapsed before he realised that he was expected to elaborate.

"With. . . uh, getting the seal, I mean." He specified, following it with a nervous titter, "We could, y'know, go and get it for you?"

Though his phrase was not a question, it tailed off into an inquisitive tone.

Yemma's broad mouth twisted into a half-hearted smirk at the fighter's words.

"Hmph. Thanks, but no thanks." He replied, "I'm not putting that seal in the hands of rookies, especially not with all those bad guys roaming out there. Too much hangs on this."

"But you haven't got anyone else." Krillin protested, desperately trying to keep his shot at some action from slipping away, "They're all to busy getting beat up by all those bad guys out there. C'mon, we can really help you out here."

"Well I'm sorry, but me 'n' my officers have got a whole heap of stuff going on at the moment and the last thing we need right now is you guys getting under foot." Yemma informed Krillin.

"Under foot?" Krillin repeated Yemma's phrasing, in a tone that denoted some measure offense, "Hey, its not like I don't have any experience with this sorta stuff. I'm a Z-fighter, remember?"

Yemma's expression darkened. His thick, black eye brows sank downwards partially eclipsing his glistening black eyes, and shaping his expression into a frightening scowl.

"Oh yeah, the Z-fighters." Yemma sneered, "Big heroes. Always saving the mortal world. Whole damn thing's virtually their fault to start with."

Krillin gasped with amazement at the weight of this accusation.

"Say what?!" Krillin exclaimed, unable to control his feelings disbelief.

"You heard me!" Yemma yelled, "If you hot-shots had've just left things to pan out on their own, we wouldn't be in this mess!"

Krillin was stunned and confused. The very concept of his actions and those of his friends leading to such a catastrophe was frightening and totally alien to a fighter who had always tried to what was right by all. Krillin could feel his widened eyes becoming uncomfortably warm.

"But. but, I don't understand." Krillin stammered, fighting the numbing distress that threatened to overwhelm him, "How can this be my. our fault?"

As he spoke those words, Krillin's imagination began to race through a thousand hypothetical scenarios. Each thought that occurred was one of the suffering that he may have incurred upon the innocent. The barrages of distressing images continued without relent, as his own subconscious seemed cruelly to be trying to drive him to distraction. In defiance, Krillin did all he could to block the disturbing imaginings.

Yemma looked down upon the distraught fighter. The look of utter torment that had taken hold upon Krillin's visage earned him little sympathy from the ogre, whose own face retained its expression of anger.

"I'll tell you how this is your fault!" he roared, and then pointed to a distant, anonymous place beyond the open doors, "You remember that seal you saw busted wide open? Well that used to be a very delicate piece of equipment, finely tuned to cope with a steadily rising level of souls. That thing had been in place since before recorded time in your world, and looked like lasting that much longer. Then Frieza goes and blows up the Saiyans. The damn thing nearly went up on us then with all the new, powerful souls that flooded in. Fortunately we were able to patch it up before anything seriously bad could happen. After that, we were able to start work on a new seal. We thought we were safe. That is, until you guys came along. You Z-fighters, with your 'super powers' and amateur heroics, you had to start 'protecting the innocent' and 'saving the world'. Did you ever stop to think you were sending all of those powerful nut jobs our way?! All it took was a handful of Frieza's sidekicks. That was the straw that snapped this camel's back!"

Krillin was horrified by what he was hearing. Though he himself had been directly a party to the destruction of precious few powerful villains, he still couldn't shake the feeling of responsibility that had overtaken him. Now it seemed that in his attempts to vanquish evil from the mortal world, he had thrust a far greater evil on this one. Only here, there was no way to destroy that evil. The blight that had descended upon this realm could last forever, an eternal dark tide that would eventually immerse all those who perished from the living universe, good or bad. . . and he might actually be accountable. Krillin's guilt was beginning to close in on him, encroaching upon every corner of his mind from every direction. Its grip upon him grew tighter with each second that passed, blotting out the sights and sounds of the outer world and threatening to crush the cradling shelter of sanity within which the fighter found refuge.

"You mean to tell me that you cannot simply send them back to the pit in the same way you sent them before?" Vegeta's abrasive tone of voice dragged Krillin from the contracting cell.

"What are you talking about?" Yemma enquired, his tone carrying frustration at Vegeta's ignorance.

"Surely, as ruler of this world, you have the power to do such things." Vegeta stated, sounding almost disapproving of Yemma's lack of control over his own kingdom.

"I'm an ogre, not a goddamn magician!" bellowed Yemma, "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but this world doesn't run off of magic toadstools and pixie dust! We run a highly sophisticated, technical operation here. I mean, do you expect me to just snap my fingers and. . ."

The shrill lament of the telephone on his desk interrupted Yemma's sentence. Without bothering to excuse himself from his exchange with king Vegeta, the ogre turned, leaned over his bureau and lifted the receiver from the phone, silencing its piercing cry for attention. Raising the handset to the side of his head, he spoke.

"Hello? Damn it, I told you I'd call you ba. . ." Yemma paused, then continued, his voice and expression both softening noticeably, "You have? It is? Well. . . that's good. . .great. Uh-huh. . . yeah. . .okay. I'll send someone over as soon as I can."

Yemma hung up, and turned back to face Vegeta.

"Finally, some good news."

"Tell me, what has happened?" Vegeta asked of Yemma.

The ogre met with Vegeta's stare, and his face reassumed its previous, harsh cast.

"It just so happens," he began, "the new seal is ready. So you can expect to be back were you came from very soon. Just as soon as I get someone to go get it."

In the time that the two kings had been debating, Krillin had been trying to make sense of what Yemma had been saying. It just seemed to be such an outlandish concept, that the actions of a handful of individuals could affect the entire after life in such a way. And yet, this was how it was, according to Yemma anyway. Initially, the pain caused by the very accusation was searing. Every syllable of every word had scalded the fighter, burning him inside each time his memory had forced him to relive their hearing.

But now Krillin was putting things in perspective. Irrespective of who was to blame, he had come here with the intention of assisting in the rectification of the disaster. If that meant restoring a balance he himself had tipped, then so be it. The fighter had vowed to himself to pour every ounce of remorse he had into his efforts to rescue this stricken world.

While concentrating on his internal emotional conflicts, Krillin had neglected to maintain control over some small portion of his physical restraint. In a moment of deep reflection, a single tear escaped the corner of his eye. Hastily, it sprinted over the contours of the fighter's cheek in its bid for freedom. The gentle caress of the lukewarm droplet on Krillin's skin was enough to retrieve him from the distant corner of his mind in which he had been contemplating his position within this mess.

The fighter's heart took a step up within his chest, as if trying to warn him of the betrayal of his emotions being perpetrated by the rogue tear. Unwilling to allow either Yemma or Vegeta see this modest display of feeling, he quickly swept the drop from his face with the back of his hand before it could flee his face altogether. Blinking hard to clear the remnants of the saline from his eyes, he looked to Yemma. The ogre was in the act of reaching for the phone, likely to begin calling around his officers in the hope of finding one free to perform the task of retrieving the seal.

"Don't bother." Krillin said in barely more than a whisper, trying to hide the residual waver in his voice, "We're going for that seal."

Yemma looked over his shoulder, emitting a bemused grunt as he did.

"What?" the ogre growled.

"I said we're going to get the seal." Krillin asserted, this time in a more audible tone.

Yemma muttered some anonymous profanity under his breath, and then turned to face Krillin.

"I thought I told you, I neither need nor want your help!" Yemma exclaimed, "Now go away and leave this to the professionals."

Without allowing Krillin time to reply, Yemma turned away and reached for the phone once more.

"You know as well as I do, you're not gonna find anyone." Krillin spoke to ogre's back, "I've been out there. I know what they've got to deal with."

A thunderous growl emanated from within Yemma, but Krillin was undeterred,

"There's not an officer out there who's not up to his neck in bad guys right now and you know it. You can spend all day on that phone if you want, but the longer you wait for that seal, the longer all those people out there are going to suffer. You've got to let us go."

Only the gentle rumble of Yemma's breath, and the ambient sounds of suffering that carried through the open doors on the cooling breeze tainted the silence that followed. It was as if the wind itself was trying to reinforce Krillin's argument. Yemma relented.

"Very well." He agreed.

The ogre then turned to face the fighter,

"You can go for the seal."

"Thank you." Said Krillin, sounding relieved more than anything else.

Yemma gave a nod, and a grunt in acknowledgement of the fighter's thanks. Then, his expression hardened.

"But he stays." He demanded, looking to Vegeta.

"What!?" snarled Vegeta, visibly outraged.

"You can stay where I can keep an eye on you." Yemma ordered, "There's no way I'm trusting you with that seal."

"Agh! You cannot be serious!" Vegeta roared at the ogre.

"You'd better believe I'm serious." The ogre bellowed in return.

Krillin watched in fearful anticipation as Vegeta once again raised a fist in anger. The incensed king emitted a growl from between gritted teeth. For a moment, it appeared that Vegeta might actually strike Yemma. But then the growl subsided, as did the monarch's clenched fist. In an apparent act of submission, Vegeta allowed his arm to fall at his side and, with a grunt of displeasure, turned his head from Yemma.

This act of surrender was far less than Krillin had expected from the Saiyan, from any Saiyan in fact. Far from being relieved that the situation had not escalated, Krillin was almost disappointed. Something was most certainly amiss with this Vegeta. For now, however, Krillin was more concerned with the situation that had befallen the heavens, and more pertinently, how he was going to set things right.

"So, where am I going?" Krillin enquired of Yemma.

"We have a tech lab about one hundred miles from here." The ogre replied, "Just concentrate on the words 'tech lab', and you should get there without a problem. The facility is built into the side of a cliff face. You can't miss it."

"Great. I'll be back in no time flat." Krillin assured a visibly worried King Yemma.

The fighter then turned to the open door and took his first step back towards the outside world, but as he did, he caught sight of Vegeta out the corner of his eye. The Saiyan stood with his back turned to both him and Yemma. Though Krillin could not gauge the king's emotional state from his hidden face, his body language spoke volumes of his state of mind. His broad shoulders had fallen several inches from there original lofty position. From them, his arms hung loosely at his sides. His fists were tightly balled, the tension in which fluctuated causing a dull squeal to be emitted from the fabric of his gloves as his fingers ground against his palms. The king's head was still raised, but this was clearly an empty gesture, paying homage to a splendid pride that had long since expired with the passing of its possessor.

As Krillin looked upon this tarnished and battered monument to a dead race, he couldn't help but feel pity for the broken monarch. The fighter regretted having glanced across at the dejected Saiyan, as he knew he would now be unable to leave him to his misery.

You are such a sap, Krillin; he thought to himself, before turning back to King yemma, who was now ambling back to the other side of his desk.

"I think King Vegeta should come with me." Krillin stated.

Yemma looked up at the fighter, his huge eyes widened in surprise. Krillin's request had not gone unnoticed by Vegeta either. The Saiyan glanced over his shoulder, revealing a single, piercing eye.

"I told you," Yemma began, furrowing his ample brow, "He stays here. I won't have him anywhere near that seal."

"Look, a hundred miles is a long way." Krillin informed Yemma, "Especially with the entire dimension crawling with bad guys. I can try and get that seal to you, but I can't guarantee it'll be safe. I'm only one fighter, after all. At least with Vegeta around I'll have some back up."

"There's nothing I'd like more than give you back up," Yemma told the fighter, and then gestured at Vegeta with a tilt of his colossal head, "but I just don't trust him. How can you guarantee that the seal will be safe with him around?"

Krillin looked down at his feet, fearing that he may have just reached an impassable obstacle in his argument. Indeed, there was no tangible evidence of Vegeta's good intentions to speak of. He thought carefully about his response, but as hard as he rode his mind for an answer, he could turn up nothing. The fighter began contemplated the possibility of surrendering his fight for Vegeta's participation. But then he thought of his encounter with Zarbon, and how Vegeta had given him an eleventh hour reprieve from an eternity of despair at the wicked fighter's hands. Krillin couldn't just let that slide.

After a several long seconds of cogitation, Krillin reluctantly concluded that the only guarantee of Vegeta's worthiness of trust was his own word. It was all he had, and all he could offer. Surely though, if he had been deemed worthy of a place in heaven, his word must have been considered to be worth something. Taking a shallow breath, Krillin looked up at yemma from beneath the shelter of his sunken brow.

"Well?" Yemma barked.

"You have my word." Krillin uttered, barely believing his own words as they left his mouth.

He half expected the ogre to spit the words back in his face, as he had already made his feelings about the Earth warrior abundantly clear. But before the ogre had a chance to accept or spurn the fighter's promise, a third voice entered the fray.

"And mine." Came a soft utterance.

It was Vegeta, who now stood facing Yemma.

Yemma glanced sceptically at the Saiyan.

"Hah! You mean I have your word as a Saiyan?" Yemma scoffed.

"You have my word. as a king." Vegeta declared, solemnly.

Krillin was prepared for Yemma to issue a scathing dressing down to the Saiyan, but the scolding never came. Indeed, it appeared that these words had reached Yemma at some level. The ogre's expression had softened, if only marginally, and he now appeared somewhat pensive.

Yemma growled softly, his quiet lament seemingly denoting frustration at being forced into reconsidering his position. His reluctant contemplation continued for a short period, observed with great concern by both Krillin and Vegeta. After some considerable pondering, Yemma finally issued the waiting fighter's with his verdict.

"Okay, he can go." The ogre sighed, "But I'd better not regret this."

"All right!" Krillin exclaimed, thrusting a hand skywards at this small victory.

Vegeta's reaction was somewhat subtler. Remaining silent, the monarch gave an almost undetectable nod of his head in acknowledgement of Yemma's favour. He then turned in a single sweeping motion, perhaps designed for effect by one accustomed to wearing a cape, and headed for the open door. Krillin too turned, and began to beat a hasty path towards the door. As he did, he glanced back over his shoulder to Yemma. The ogre was watching them leave, his face baring a distinct cast of anxiety.

"Don't worry," Krillin shouted to the receding king, "we'll be back before you know it!"

Krillin turned back to the door to see Vegeta bound up from the ground, and take flight into the clear, pink skies. The fighter scampered through the open door, and was greeted by the enthusiastic embrace of the cool atmosphere around his body. As he prepared to launch himself from the ground, he heard an almost inaudible mumbling from the office he had just left behind.

"I just know I'm going to regret this."