Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Illumination ❯ Interlude: Valencia ( Chapter 15 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Silver Armada 
A chance encounter enables Trunks to learn more about Armada's past, but at a high cost.
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Drama / Adventure | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 12.07.2016 | Pages: 7 | Words: 4.3K | Visits: 114 | Status: Completed
A chance encounter enables Trunks to learn more about Armada's past, but at a high cost.
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Drama / Adventure | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 12.07.2016 | Pages: 7 | Words: 4.3K | Visits: 114 | Status: Completed
Disclaimer: Dragonball Z belongs to Akira Toriyama and
numerous other companies. This fanfic is only for fun, no monies
are being made.
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Trunks was ecstatic to be back in Ute after their last job returning the kidnapped couriers to Ceva. All those days dragging through space were awful, although everything about the job was a success. They'd even earned a bonus of two hundred thousand betas for returning the items the couriers were delivering as well. Nobody was hurt – well, the Taydrans were hurt a little bit, but nothing serious – and everyone went home in one piece. He only hoped things would keep going this well.
“Thank you,” Trunks answered politely to one of the vendors at the market downtown as he took his change and his bag of fruit. It seemed like he was the only one who did any real shopping between his comrades, but he was okay with that. It meant that he had an excuse to get out of the ship regularly, and if nothing else, that the galley would always be stocked with things that heliked.
Trunks had gone downtown at the wrong time of day though, as it was lunchtime and thus the streets and sidewalks were crowded with people. He tried to navigate carefully, but would occasionally brush into someone. Which was bad because when it came to a collision between himself and someone else, the other person usually didn't fare so well. He mentally scolded himself for not checking the time before heading out.
Taking a turn down a wider street to hopefully find more clearance, Trunks kept pressing forward through the crowd. Unfortunately this street was just as crowded as the others, and his walk back toward the ship was slow. A few blocks down this street, someone to his left that was headed in the opposite direction from him bumped into his left shoulder rather roughly. “Sorry,” Trunks automatically replied without looking, and he heard a 'Sorry mate' from the other guy in response.
Trunks had to slow his steps as the crowd grew even thicker ahead, and nearly stopped, trying to look over the crowd to see what the problem was. “Hey, wait a minute,” he heard a voice behind him say before a hand landed on his left shoulder from behind.
Trunks turned around toward his left, to see a man slightly shorter than him with messy auburn hair and matching eyes looking at him with curiosity. “Don't I know you?” he asked, Trunks now noticing he spoke with a slight accent.
It took Trunks a few seconds because he hadn't seen this man in months, but it suddenly came back to him and his eyes widened in shock. “Dax...?”
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Illumination
Interlude: Valencia
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Trunks looked down at his watch again. Twelve minutes, he thought. Just twelve minutes ago he'd run into Dax, the man who robbed Armada and had a hand in starting all of this mess in downtown Ute. And Dax appeared just as surprised as Trunks was at the two of them running into each other – quite literally at that.
“You gonna order anything?” Dax asked, still looking down at the menu in his hands. He then turned his eyes up to catch Trunks's gaze. “'Cause if not, then I'll just order something for you. If you don't eat it the I will; I'm starving,” Dax added before turning his attention down to the menu once again.
The pair of them sat at a street-side cafe in downtown Ute, at a table for two in the outdoor seating area. Trunks glanced down at his watch again; thirteen minutes,he thought. Somehow he'd let Dax talk him into going somewhere to talk, to 'Sort out this whole mess,' and that was how they ended up here. Trunks wasn't sure why he was doing any of this, but he didn't sense any malice from Dax. Maybe he really wanted to talk. Trunks had watched the Rieve enforcer closely as they walked, and he made no moves that indicated he was signaling someone, and he certainly hadn't used any device to contact anyone.
Their server came to the table, and Trunks watched Dax interact with the man closely. Nothing seemed unusual as Dax ordered lunch for the both of them, and Trunks sat in silence. After the server had left, Dax picked up his glass of water and took a long drink before setting the glass back down and looking at his company across the table. “I'm almost afraid lasers are going to come out of your eyes with how hard you're staring at me,” he joked with a slight laugh. “Wait, you can't actually dothat, can you?” he followed up, now slightly concerned.
Trunks opened his mouth to speak, and it took a few seconds for him to settle on the right question. “What is this?” he asked.
“Lunch?” Dax replied, his eyebrows raising up as he shrugged.
“That's not what I meant,” Trunks answered darkly, not appreciating Dax's attempt at humor.
Dax sighed and his face fell into more serious lines. “Look, I'm not really your enemy,” he started but found himself cut off.
“You're not with Rieve?” Trunks asked sarcastically, still guarded.
Dax scowled. “If you want to look at it that simply, then fine,” he said, picking up his napkin in his right hand. “But things aren't that simple, and they're not always what they appear to be,” he added, unfolding his napkin and setting in his lap.
“I saw you rob Armada,” Trunks bit back, “or was that not what it looked like either?”
Dax leaned forward over the table. “I was trying to solve things diplomatically,” he ground out, “but Ar wouldn't let me.”
Trunks scoffed. “So stealing everything she had was diplomacy?”
“Considering what Rieve was gonna do to her otherwise, yeah, it was,” Dax retorted darkly. “You don't have to believe me,” he continued, “but I think I know how they operate better than you do.”
Trunks was silent for a few long moments as he thought about what Dax had said. Then one question came to mind, “Why were you trying to help Armada?” He didn't think that what Dax did was 'helpful,' but if in his mind it was, then Trunks was interested in the motive. He did know from Armada that she knew Dax prior to his involvement with Rieve. Maybe he could get Dax to tell him about it, if he played along.
Dax let out a breath and seemed to calm down slightly. “Because I consider her a friend,” he started. “We were both in the same shithole for a long time together and had each other's backs. I didn't forget about that,” he finished.
“She said you served in the military together,” Trunks replied, wondering what Dax's response would be. Trunks didn't know any more than what he'd just stated, and hoped Dax would fill in the missing information.
“Hah,” Dax laughed darkly and shook his head. “She said we served in the military together,” he repeated, his eyes looking down at the table. He looked back up at Trunks, “Yeah, I guess that's one way of putting it.” He shook his head again, almost as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
Before either man could say anything else, their server arrived with their food, setting down a plate in front of each of them. Trunks thanked the server and he left, leaving the two men to their conversation.
“I suppose you could technically call it a military,” Dax said, bringing Trunks's attention back up to him. “I'd say a more accurate description would be a paramilitary group led by one man for no reason other than his personal gain. A group of mercenaries, in a sense, but a lot larger and a lot more organized,” he added.
“Valencia,” Dax continued. “That's what it was called. But, as far as I know, it was destroyed almost a decade ago by the Republican military,” he picked up his utensils and started in on his meal. “Supposedly everyone died. I had no idea Ar was alive until she picked a fight with Rieve,” he finished, and proceeded to take a bite of his meal.
Dozens of thoughts ran through Trunks's mind at what Dax had just said – he had so many questions and wasn't sure where to start. But something that caught his attention and wouldn't let go was, “How did you end up with Rieve?” He looked at Dax expectantly, waiting to see if he would answer the question.
Dax finished chewing a bit of his food and let out a deep breath. His mouth twisted up and he looked up, over Trunks's shoulder and appeared to be deep in thought. “A promise to a friend,” Dax finally said, his eyes meeting Trunks's once more. “Sometimes we have to do things we don't want to do to take care of things that we want to take care of. That's cryptic, I know,” Dax said, lowering his head and looking at his plate again. “But that's all I'm willing to say about it. Just know this,” he said, looking up again, pointing his fork at Trunks. “I'm not some true believer when it comes to Rieve, okay? I'm not willing to die to protect it,” he finished.
Trunks supposed he understood Dax. He didn't necessarily want to team up with Armada to take on the universe – at least, not in the beginning. But he felt it was something he needed to do to protect others who were important to him. That, and Dax didn't seem like he was lying. Trunks sat silent for a few minutes, and checked his watch again. Thirty-four minutes. He wondered what he should do. Should he try and drag Dax back to Armada at the hangar? What would that accomplish? But should he really just sit here and chit-chat with Dax, with the enemy? Was Dax his enemy, or was it Rieve? Was there even a difference?
“So,” Dax broke Trunks out of his thoughts. The Rieve enforced swallowed and asked, “You were the one who killed Corvus, right?”
Trunks felt like he'd just taken a punch to the gut. Rieve knew that? No, of course they know, he thought. Why wouldn't they? He didn't know howthey knew, but there was enough technology in use in the universe that he didn't have a clue about for them to have some way of knowing.
“It's okay, I know,” Dax cut in when Trunks hesitated to answer his question. “I know it wasn't Ar, she's not nearly strong enough to beat him. But you have a bigger problem now,” Dax said plainly. Without giving Trunks a chance to respond, he continued. “You pissed off the boss pretty bad because Corvus was his best friend,” Dax stated with a sullen look. “He wanted Ar dead before because it looked bad that someone could attack him like that and he'd let them live, but now you've made it personal. He won't stop until you and everyone you know are all dead,” he finished.
Trunks absorbed the information while a sick feeling rose up within him. “Why are you telling me all of this?” he asked, his expression guarded.
Dax shot Trunks a slight smile. “I might work for Rieve, but I'm not on his side,” he replied. “Anyway,” Dax continued, “nobody knows who you are, or where you came from. So if I were you, I'd go back to wherever the hell I came from, because the chances of Rieve finding you are pretty slim.”
“I can't do that,” Trunks replied, his face growing stern.
Dax laughed, “Suit yourself then. But don't say I didn't warn you. Even if you can defeat Corvus, that doesn't mean you can destroy the whole thing. And,” he paused a second, “as far as I know, nobody's stronger than the man himself, though I've never seen him fight with my own eyes.”
Dax went back to eating while Trunks thought of what he wanted to know next. “Hey,” he said, catching Dax's attention. “You said Armada picked a fight with Rieve,” Trunks began, “what did you mean by that?”
“Hahaha,” Dax laughed heartily. “She blew up a weapons factory owned and run by Rieve,” Dax replied, still slightly laughing. “By herself. A hell of a job she did,” he added, shaking his head. Before either of them could continue the conversation, something started ringing. “Ah,” Dax reached into his jacket and pulled out a phone. “I've gotta take this, shut up,” he said to Trunks before answering the phone.
“Yeah,” Dax said immediately. “You've got the location?” he said, and glanced at Trunks briefly. “No, no,” he started and stood up from his chair, “don't do anything until I get there, I'll be there soon.” Dax then quickly hung up his phone and stuffed it back into his pocket. “I've gotta go,” he said, reaching into another pocket to pull out a fistful of cash and set it down the table.
“Wait, what are you—” Trunks tried to ask but was cut off.
“It's not about you,” Dax broke in. “Well,” he shifted awkwardly where he stood, “I was sent back here to find you and Ar, but the phone call wasn't about you.” Trunks opened his mouth to speak but Dax continued. “Look, I'm trying my best to avoid finding you, so do me a favor and lay low until I can convince the boss you aren't here and get off-world. If Rieve's gonna destroy you and Ar, then I don't want any part of it,” Dax added, his eyes falling away to his side.
“Anyway, gotta run!” Dax said, then proceeded to jump over the railing that separated the outdoor area of the cafe from the sidewalk and sprint down the street. In the short time they'd been eating, the streets had cleared up significantly which enabled Dax's quick getaway.
Trunks watched him run off, unsure of what to do next. He looked down and Dax had left several hundred betas on the table, more than enough to pay for their meal five times over. Trunks hadn't touched his lunch, but he didn't feel hungry. There were too many thoughts weighing on his mind. Shortly after Dax left, the server came by to check on him, and Trunks used Dax's money to pay the bill and leave, giving the rest to the waitstaff as a tip.
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When Trunks returned the ship, he slowly walked into the bridge carrying the groceries he'd purchased in both arms, only giving Armada a passing glance. She was standing at the pilot's console, working on something. If he recalled, she said she was going to do some maintenance on the ship's engines, and the dirt and soot covering her clothes indicated that was exactly what she'd been doing. He didn't stop, and kept walking toward the other side of the bridge to head down the hall to the galley.
“You need a hand with any of that?” Armada called out to him from behind, without turning to look at Trunks.
Trunks stopped for a moment and thought, before replying “No, I've got it.” He had walked slowly back to the ship, unsure if he would tell Armada about his impromptu lunch with Dax. In that moment, he decided to keep the information to himself, for now, and continued walking to the galley to put the groceries away.
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Three days later, Trunks was sitting in the lounge using a laptop he purchased to search for information online about 'Valencia.' At first he wasn't sure of the spelling, but eventually he learned of an old Republican word, valentia, that meant 'power.' It sounded like that was the derivation for the name 'Valencia' and thus, he narrowed down his search terms to just two. Even then, after hours of staring at his computer, he'd found absolutely nothing. He wondered if he would ever find anything.
“Hey” Laiserta called out to Trunks, and he looked up at where she stood on the opposite side of the table from where he sat. “Let's go get some dinner,” she said with a nod of her head toward the door.
Trunks shut his laptop and looked up at Laiserta with a sly smile. “I thought you preferred your own cooking to everyone else's?”
“I do,” Laiserta answered quickly, “but there's this place in Suho Village that serves Taydran food and I want to see if it's any good.” She paused a moment before adding, “It's not a far walk from here, come on.”
“Sure,” Trunks said with a laugh before getting up from his seat. He picked up his laptop and the pair walked toward the barracks so he could put it away before leaving. Once they'd disembarked the ship and left the hangar, they walked down the pier and headed toward the center of town. Trunks knew the neighborhood of Suho Village, it was just south of downtown and not a long walk like Laiserta had said.
“The sun's setting earlier these days, isn't it?” Laiserta asked as they walked. She was right, as late summer was turning to fall in Ute and daylight lessened as a result.
“Yeah,” Trunks replied absentmindedly. He was deep in thought, wondering about Dax, Armada, Rieve, and all of the connections between the three.
“Hey,” Laiserta finally said and when Trunks looked up toward her, she was gone. “Over here,” she said and he turned around to find that she'd stopped walking several paces ago. He hadn't realized he was so distracted.
“What's up?” Laiserta asked when she approached him. “You're thinking about something really hard,” she added with a smile. “Want some help?”
Trunks thought for a moment about what she'd said. “Yeah, actually,” he started, making a decision in the spur of the moment. “I'm trying to find anything I can about a group called Valencia but I'm not making any progress. Think you can help?” he finished.
“Sure,” Laiserta replied, “I've got friends who have access to networks housing classified data. What can you tell me about it?”
“It's a paramilitary group,” Trunks answered, using Dax's description. He thought for a moment, then said “They operated in the Republic, sometime within the last twenty years. I'm looking for anything, any information about it at all.”
“Okay,” Laiserta nodded in understanding. “I'll send the info on to a friend and see what he can dig up. Now,” she started, grinning widely, “you can forget about that and we can go get something to eat because I am starving,” she finished jovially. Trunks laughed in return and they continued on their way.
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“Oh man, that really hit the spot,” Laiserta said and stretched as she walked out of the restaurant with Trunks following behind her. “Really reminds me of home,” she said, turning back to look at him.
“You don't visit often?” Trunks asked and fell into step beside his comrade as the pair started walking back to base.
“No, I'm too recognizable,” she replied. “I'm wanted for some stuff back home, so I can't drop in much,” she shrugged.
Trunks felt sorry for Laiserta; she seemed really sad about the situation. “Sorry to hear that,” he responded. They approached an intersection and stopped, waiting to cross the street.
“Eh, well, it's the shit you deal with when you live this kind of life,” she answered, looking away from him. The light turned and the cars in the street stopped, allowing pedestrians to cross. The pair walked across the street and stopped at the corner, waiting for the next light to cross again.
Trunks noticed a news broadcast on a monitor alongside the building they stood next to. He wasn't paying it much attention as the broadcast switched back to local news.
“A man found dead in his apartment on the east side yesterday morning has now been identified by Utian Metro Police as twenty-six year old Quarry Listern.”
At the mention of the name 'Quarry,' Trunks's head snapped around to the monitor, to see a picture of Quarry displayed on screen. Trunks's face displayed the utter shock he felt as he continued watching.
“Police have released information about the incident, now classifying it as a homicide. At a press conference today, Utian Metro Police Chief Sal Gordon had this to say.” The image displayed change to that of an older man speaking at a podium.
“The victim was found restrained to a chair with two gunshots to the back of his head. It's clear that this was an execution, and we have reason to believe that the victim had ties to organized crime. Initial medical exams have determined time of death to be sometime in the afternoon or early evening on the ninth, three days ago.”
The image changed back to the news anchor in the studio. “Utian Metro Police ask that anyone with any knowledge related to the crime please call the CrimeStoppers tip line or the UMP headquarters directly.”
Trunks felt like he couldn't breathe. Quarry, the same Quarry who had helped him more than once, and most importantly when he desperately needed it, had been murdered? As Trunks soaked in the information, the first thing that rose to the top of his swirling thoughts were the words organized crime. 'It's not about you.' 'You've got the location? No, no, don't do anything until I get there, I'll be there soon.' 'He won't stop until you and everyone you know are all dead.'
Laiserta was trying to say something to him, but Trunks couldn't hear her over the rush of blood in his head. He clenched his fists as unshed tears burned in his eyes, and he tried desperately to catch his breath. Dax wasn't lying; he didn't come to Ute for Trunks... he came to kill Quarry. In the moment, Trunks hated himself – hated himself for letting his guard down, for believing Dax, for letting him walk away to murder Q. He should have said something to Armada, if nothing else she would have gone after Dax and they could have stopped this. Instead, an innocent person was dead for barely interacting with Trunks. If Trunks had never asked Murtole for help, he would have never met Q, and Q would still be alive. Trunks hated himself for being so naïve.
He promised himself the next time he saw Dax, the gangster wouldn't live to see another day.
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Oh poor Q, I really liked him. ;~; Anyway, thank you for reading, and please leave a review – I love all types of feedback. :]
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Trunks was ecstatic to be back in Ute after their last job returning the kidnapped couriers to Ceva. All those days dragging through space were awful, although everything about the job was a success. They'd even earned a bonus of two hundred thousand betas for returning the items the couriers were delivering as well. Nobody was hurt – well, the Taydrans were hurt a little bit, but nothing serious – and everyone went home in one piece. He only hoped things would keep going this well.
“Thank you,” Trunks answered politely to one of the vendors at the market downtown as he took his change and his bag of fruit. It seemed like he was the only one who did any real shopping between his comrades, but he was okay with that. It meant that he had an excuse to get out of the ship regularly, and if nothing else, that the galley would always be stocked with things that heliked.
Trunks had gone downtown at the wrong time of day though, as it was lunchtime and thus the streets and sidewalks were crowded with people. He tried to navigate carefully, but would occasionally brush into someone. Which was bad because when it came to a collision between himself and someone else, the other person usually didn't fare so well. He mentally scolded himself for not checking the time before heading out.
Taking a turn down a wider street to hopefully find more clearance, Trunks kept pressing forward through the crowd. Unfortunately this street was just as crowded as the others, and his walk back toward the ship was slow. A few blocks down this street, someone to his left that was headed in the opposite direction from him bumped into his left shoulder rather roughly. “Sorry,” Trunks automatically replied without looking, and he heard a 'Sorry mate' from the other guy in response.
Trunks had to slow his steps as the crowd grew even thicker ahead, and nearly stopped, trying to look over the crowd to see what the problem was. “Hey, wait a minute,” he heard a voice behind him say before a hand landed on his left shoulder from behind.
Trunks turned around toward his left, to see a man slightly shorter than him with messy auburn hair and matching eyes looking at him with curiosity. “Don't I know you?” he asked, Trunks now noticing he spoke with a slight accent.
It took Trunks a few seconds because he hadn't seen this man in months, but it suddenly came back to him and his eyes widened in shock. “Dax...?”
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Illumination
Interlude: Valencia
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Trunks looked down at his watch again. Twelve minutes, he thought. Just twelve minutes ago he'd run into Dax, the man who robbed Armada and had a hand in starting all of this mess in downtown Ute. And Dax appeared just as surprised as Trunks was at the two of them running into each other – quite literally at that.
“You gonna order anything?” Dax asked, still looking down at the menu in his hands. He then turned his eyes up to catch Trunks's gaze. “'Cause if not, then I'll just order something for you. If you don't eat it the I will; I'm starving,” Dax added before turning his attention down to the menu once again.
The pair of them sat at a street-side cafe in downtown Ute, at a table for two in the outdoor seating area. Trunks glanced down at his watch again; thirteen minutes,he thought. Somehow he'd let Dax talk him into going somewhere to talk, to 'Sort out this whole mess,' and that was how they ended up here. Trunks wasn't sure why he was doing any of this, but he didn't sense any malice from Dax. Maybe he really wanted to talk. Trunks had watched the Rieve enforcer closely as they walked, and he made no moves that indicated he was signaling someone, and he certainly hadn't used any device to contact anyone.
Their server came to the table, and Trunks watched Dax interact with the man closely. Nothing seemed unusual as Dax ordered lunch for the both of them, and Trunks sat in silence. After the server had left, Dax picked up his glass of water and took a long drink before setting the glass back down and looking at his company across the table. “I'm almost afraid lasers are going to come out of your eyes with how hard you're staring at me,” he joked with a slight laugh. “Wait, you can't actually dothat, can you?” he followed up, now slightly concerned.
Trunks opened his mouth to speak, and it took a few seconds for him to settle on the right question. “What is this?” he asked.
“Lunch?” Dax replied, his eyebrows raising up as he shrugged.
“That's not what I meant,” Trunks answered darkly, not appreciating Dax's attempt at humor.
Dax sighed and his face fell into more serious lines. “Look, I'm not really your enemy,” he started but found himself cut off.
“You're not with Rieve?” Trunks asked sarcastically, still guarded.
Dax scowled. “If you want to look at it that simply, then fine,” he said, picking up his napkin in his right hand. “But things aren't that simple, and they're not always what they appear to be,” he added, unfolding his napkin and setting in his lap.
“I saw you rob Armada,” Trunks bit back, “or was that not what it looked like either?”
Dax leaned forward over the table. “I was trying to solve things diplomatically,” he ground out, “but Ar wouldn't let me.”
Trunks scoffed. “So stealing everything she had was diplomacy?”
“Considering what Rieve was gonna do to her otherwise, yeah, it was,” Dax retorted darkly. “You don't have to believe me,” he continued, “but I think I know how they operate better than you do.”
Trunks was silent for a few long moments as he thought about what Dax had said. Then one question came to mind, “Why were you trying to help Armada?” He didn't think that what Dax did was 'helpful,' but if in his mind it was, then Trunks was interested in the motive. He did know from Armada that she knew Dax prior to his involvement with Rieve. Maybe he could get Dax to tell him about it, if he played along.
Dax let out a breath and seemed to calm down slightly. “Because I consider her a friend,” he started. “We were both in the same shithole for a long time together and had each other's backs. I didn't forget about that,” he finished.
“She said you served in the military together,” Trunks replied, wondering what Dax's response would be. Trunks didn't know any more than what he'd just stated, and hoped Dax would fill in the missing information.
“Hah,” Dax laughed darkly and shook his head. “She said we served in the military together,” he repeated, his eyes looking down at the table. He looked back up at Trunks, “Yeah, I guess that's one way of putting it.” He shook his head again, almost as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
Before either man could say anything else, their server arrived with their food, setting down a plate in front of each of them. Trunks thanked the server and he left, leaving the two men to their conversation.
“I suppose you could technically call it a military,” Dax said, bringing Trunks's attention back up to him. “I'd say a more accurate description would be a paramilitary group led by one man for no reason other than his personal gain. A group of mercenaries, in a sense, but a lot larger and a lot more organized,” he added.
“Valencia,” Dax continued. “That's what it was called. But, as far as I know, it was destroyed almost a decade ago by the Republican military,” he picked up his utensils and started in on his meal. “Supposedly everyone died. I had no idea Ar was alive until she picked a fight with Rieve,” he finished, and proceeded to take a bite of his meal.
Dozens of thoughts ran through Trunks's mind at what Dax had just said – he had so many questions and wasn't sure where to start. But something that caught his attention and wouldn't let go was, “How did you end up with Rieve?” He looked at Dax expectantly, waiting to see if he would answer the question.
Dax finished chewing a bit of his food and let out a deep breath. His mouth twisted up and he looked up, over Trunks's shoulder and appeared to be deep in thought. “A promise to a friend,” Dax finally said, his eyes meeting Trunks's once more. “Sometimes we have to do things we don't want to do to take care of things that we want to take care of. That's cryptic, I know,” Dax said, lowering his head and looking at his plate again. “But that's all I'm willing to say about it. Just know this,” he said, looking up again, pointing his fork at Trunks. “I'm not some true believer when it comes to Rieve, okay? I'm not willing to die to protect it,” he finished.
Trunks supposed he understood Dax. He didn't necessarily want to team up with Armada to take on the universe – at least, not in the beginning. But he felt it was something he needed to do to protect others who were important to him. That, and Dax didn't seem like he was lying. Trunks sat silent for a few minutes, and checked his watch again. Thirty-four minutes. He wondered what he should do. Should he try and drag Dax back to Armada at the hangar? What would that accomplish? But should he really just sit here and chit-chat with Dax, with the enemy? Was Dax his enemy, or was it Rieve? Was there even a difference?
“So,” Dax broke Trunks out of his thoughts. The Rieve enforced swallowed and asked, “You were the one who killed Corvus, right?”
Trunks felt like he'd just taken a punch to the gut. Rieve knew that? No, of course they know, he thought. Why wouldn't they? He didn't know howthey knew, but there was enough technology in use in the universe that he didn't have a clue about for them to have some way of knowing.
“It's okay, I know,” Dax cut in when Trunks hesitated to answer his question. “I know it wasn't Ar, she's not nearly strong enough to beat him. But you have a bigger problem now,” Dax said plainly. Without giving Trunks a chance to respond, he continued. “You pissed off the boss pretty bad because Corvus was his best friend,” Dax stated with a sullen look. “He wanted Ar dead before because it looked bad that someone could attack him like that and he'd let them live, but now you've made it personal. He won't stop until you and everyone you know are all dead,” he finished.
Trunks absorbed the information while a sick feeling rose up within him. “Why are you telling me all of this?” he asked, his expression guarded.
Dax shot Trunks a slight smile. “I might work for Rieve, but I'm not on his side,” he replied. “Anyway,” Dax continued, “nobody knows who you are, or where you came from. So if I were you, I'd go back to wherever the hell I came from, because the chances of Rieve finding you are pretty slim.”
“I can't do that,” Trunks replied, his face growing stern.
Dax laughed, “Suit yourself then. But don't say I didn't warn you. Even if you can defeat Corvus, that doesn't mean you can destroy the whole thing. And,” he paused a second, “as far as I know, nobody's stronger than the man himself, though I've never seen him fight with my own eyes.”
Dax went back to eating while Trunks thought of what he wanted to know next. “Hey,” he said, catching Dax's attention. “You said Armada picked a fight with Rieve,” Trunks began, “what did you mean by that?”
“Hahaha,” Dax laughed heartily. “She blew up a weapons factory owned and run by Rieve,” Dax replied, still slightly laughing. “By herself. A hell of a job she did,” he added, shaking his head. Before either of them could continue the conversation, something started ringing. “Ah,” Dax reached into his jacket and pulled out a phone. “I've gotta take this, shut up,” he said to Trunks before answering the phone.
“Yeah,” Dax said immediately. “You've got the location?” he said, and glanced at Trunks briefly. “No, no,” he started and stood up from his chair, “don't do anything until I get there, I'll be there soon.” Dax then quickly hung up his phone and stuffed it back into his pocket. “I've gotta go,” he said, reaching into another pocket to pull out a fistful of cash and set it down the table.
“Wait, what are you—” Trunks tried to ask but was cut off.
“It's not about you,” Dax broke in. “Well,” he shifted awkwardly where he stood, “I was sent back here to find you and Ar, but the phone call wasn't about you.” Trunks opened his mouth to speak but Dax continued. “Look, I'm trying my best to avoid finding you, so do me a favor and lay low until I can convince the boss you aren't here and get off-world. If Rieve's gonna destroy you and Ar, then I don't want any part of it,” Dax added, his eyes falling away to his side.
“Anyway, gotta run!” Dax said, then proceeded to jump over the railing that separated the outdoor area of the cafe from the sidewalk and sprint down the street. In the short time they'd been eating, the streets had cleared up significantly which enabled Dax's quick getaway.
Trunks watched him run off, unsure of what to do next. He looked down and Dax had left several hundred betas on the table, more than enough to pay for their meal five times over. Trunks hadn't touched his lunch, but he didn't feel hungry. There were too many thoughts weighing on his mind. Shortly after Dax left, the server came by to check on him, and Trunks used Dax's money to pay the bill and leave, giving the rest to the waitstaff as a tip.
-+-
When Trunks returned the ship, he slowly walked into the bridge carrying the groceries he'd purchased in both arms, only giving Armada a passing glance. She was standing at the pilot's console, working on something. If he recalled, she said she was going to do some maintenance on the ship's engines, and the dirt and soot covering her clothes indicated that was exactly what she'd been doing. He didn't stop, and kept walking toward the other side of the bridge to head down the hall to the galley.
“You need a hand with any of that?” Armada called out to him from behind, without turning to look at Trunks.
Trunks stopped for a moment and thought, before replying “No, I've got it.” He had walked slowly back to the ship, unsure if he would tell Armada about his impromptu lunch with Dax. In that moment, he decided to keep the information to himself, for now, and continued walking to the galley to put the groceries away.
-+-
Three days later, Trunks was sitting in the lounge using a laptop he purchased to search for information online about 'Valencia.' At first he wasn't sure of the spelling, but eventually he learned of an old Republican word, valentia, that meant 'power.' It sounded like that was the derivation for the name 'Valencia' and thus, he narrowed down his search terms to just two. Even then, after hours of staring at his computer, he'd found absolutely nothing. He wondered if he would ever find anything.
“Hey” Laiserta called out to Trunks, and he looked up at where she stood on the opposite side of the table from where he sat. “Let's go get some dinner,” she said with a nod of her head toward the door.
Trunks shut his laptop and looked up at Laiserta with a sly smile. “I thought you preferred your own cooking to everyone else's?”
“I do,” Laiserta answered quickly, “but there's this place in Suho Village that serves Taydran food and I want to see if it's any good.” She paused a moment before adding, “It's not a far walk from here, come on.”
“Sure,” Trunks said with a laugh before getting up from his seat. He picked up his laptop and the pair walked toward the barracks so he could put it away before leaving. Once they'd disembarked the ship and left the hangar, they walked down the pier and headed toward the center of town. Trunks knew the neighborhood of Suho Village, it was just south of downtown and not a long walk like Laiserta had said.
“The sun's setting earlier these days, isn't it?” Laiserta asked as they walked. She was right, as late summer was turning to fall in Ute and daylight lessened as a result.
“Yeah,” Trunks replied absentmindedly. He was deep in thought, wondering about Dax, Armada, Rieve, and all of the connections between the three.
“Hey,” Laiserta finally said and when Trunks looked up toward her, she was gone. “Over here,” she said and he turned around to find that she'd stopped walking several paces ago. He hadn't realized he was so distracted.
“What's up?” Laiserta asked when she approached him. “You're thinking about something really hard,” she added with a smile. “Want some help?”
Trunks thought for a moment about what she'd said. “Yeah, actually,” he started, making a decision in the spur of the moment. “I'm trying to find anything I can about a group called Valencia but I'm not making any progress. Think you can help?” he finished.
“Sure,” Laiserta replied, “I've got friends who have access to networks housing classified data. What can you tell me about it?”
“It's a paramilitary group,” Trunks answered, using Dax's description. He thought for a moment, then said “They operated in the Republic, sometime within the last twenty years. I'm looking for anything, any information about it at all.”
“Okay,” Laiserta nodded in understanding. “I'll send the info on to a friend and see what he can dig up. Now,” she started, grinning widely, “you can forget about that and we can go get something to eat because I am starving,” she finished jovially. Trunks laughed in return and they continued on their way.
-+-
“Oh man, that really hit the spot,” Laiserta said and stretched as she walked out of the restaurant with Trunks following behind her. “Really reminds me of home,” she said, turning back to look at him.
“You don't visit often?” Trunks asked and fell into step beside his comrade as the pair started walking back to base.
“No, I'm too recognizable,” she replied. “I'm wanted for some stuff back home, so I can't drop in much,” she shrugged.
Trunks felt sorry for Laiserta; she seemed really sad about the situation. “Sorry to hear that,” he responded. They approached an intersection and stopped, waiting to cross the street.
“Eh, well, it's the shit you deal with when you live this kind of life,” she answered, looking away from him. The light turned and the cars in the street stopped, allowing pedestrians to cross. The pair walked across the street and stopped at the corner, waiting for the next light to cross again.
Trunks noticed a news broadcast on a monitor alongside the building they stood next to. He wasn't paying it much attention as the broadcast switched back to local news.
“A man found dead in his apartment on the east side yesterday morning has now been identified by Utian Metro Police as twenty-six year old Quarry Listern.”
At the mention of the name 'Quarry,' Trunks's head snapped around to the monitor, to see a picture of Quarry displayed on screen. Trunks's face displayed the utter shock he felt as he continued watching.
“Police have released information about the incident, now classifying it as a homicide. At a press conference today, Utian Metro Police Chief Sal Gordon had this to say.” The image displayed change to that of an older man speaking at a podium.
“The victim was found restrained to a chair with two gunshots to the back of his head. It's clear that this was an execution, and we have reason to believe that the victim had ties to organized crime. Initial medical exams have determined time of death to be sometime in the afternoon or early evening on the ninth, three days ago.”
The image changed back to the news anchor in the studio. “Utian Metro Police ask that anyone with any knowledge related to the crime please call the CrimeStoppers tip line or the UMP headquarters directly.”
Trunks felt like he couldn't breathe. Quarry, the same Quarry who had helped him more than once, and most importantly when he desperately needed it, had been murdered? As Trunks soaked in the information, the first thing that rose to the top of his swirling thoughts were the words organized crime. 'It's not about you.' 'You've got the location? No, no, don't do anything until I get there, I'll be there soon.' 'He won't stop until you and everyone you know are all dead.'
Laiserta was trying to say something to him, but Trunks couldn't hear her over the rush of blood in his head. He clenched his fists as unshed tears burned in his eyes, and he tried desperately to catch his breath. Dax wasn't lying; he didn't come to Ute for Trunks... he came to kill Quarry. In the moment, Trunks hated himself – hated himself for letting his guard down, for believing Dax, for letting him walk away to murder Q. He should have said something to Armada, if nothing else she would have gone after Dax and they could have stopped this. Instead, an innocent person was dead for barely interacting with Trunks. If Trunks had never asked Murtole for help, he would have never met Q, and Q would still be alive. Trunks hated himself for being so naïve.
He promised himself the next time he saw Dax, the gangster wouldn't live to see another day.
-+-
Oh poor Q, I really liked him. ;~; Anyway, thank you for reading, and please leave a review – I love all types of feedback. :]