Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Illumination ❯ Interlude: Neis ( Chapter 16 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z belongs to Akira Toriyama and numerous other companies. This fanfic is only for fun, no monies are being made.

-+-

Trunks slammed into the ground, skidding backwards several feet before he was stopped by a pile of concrete rubble. His sword fell after him, bouncing off of the ground a few times before also sliding to a stop a few meters away from him into the middle of the street. Or at least, what was left of the street.

Seventeen landed gracefully ten meters away from where Trunks lay. “Aww, down for the count already?” the android taunted. “I was just starting to have fun,” he added with a smirk.

Trunks willed himself to open at least one eye and look at his adversary. He was pretty sure that a couple of his ribs were broken, and the way the left side of his chest screamed in pain he wondered if he had a collapsed lung. At this point, he knew he needed to get away from the psychotic android but he wasn't sure how he was going to manage that when he couldn't find the strength to move.

Seventeen started slowly walking towards Trunks. “You do seem to have more spirit than your friend Gohan,” he started. “But he could at least make the fight last a little while to be enjoyable. This is just,” Seventeen finally stopped a few feet away from Trunks's body. “Pathetic.”

Trunks scrambled; Seventeen was way too close and he needed to at least get up to his knees. Gritting his teeth nearly to the point of pain, Trunks forced himself to sit up enough to get his left knee on the ground underneath of him. With that, he pushed up enough to get his right foot on the ground, effectively kneeling in front of the android.

“I'm flattered, but that wasn't necessary,” Seventeen mocked Trunks now that the demi-Saiyan was in a kneeling position in front of the android.

“Hey you emo cowboy prick, over here!”

Seventeen's eyes widened in shock as he slowly looked up from Trunks and down the street at the young man who'd just yelled at him. “Excuse me?” Seventeen asked, clearly annoyed.

A tall young man with short brown hair and green eyes flashed a smirk at Seventeen. “Yeah, I said it,” he replied, walking toward Seventeen. He had a set of sunglasses resting on the top of his head and some kind of large brown bag hanging at his right hip, strapped across his chest. “I mean, what the hell are you wearing, dude? I'm not sure if you're about to buy some black eyeliner or a set of spurs.”

“You stupid humans,” Seventeen said, his eyes narrowing while his mouth twisted into a sinister grin. “Why do you even bother? I can kill you in an instant.” He then proceeded to take several steps forward, toward the man in the street and away from Trunks.

No...!Trunks thought in anguish as he listened to the exchange. Occasionally someone would throw themselves in the path of the androids to help him escape, but it always cost them their lives. The thought that this was about to happen again, because he was so pathetically weak, was heart-wrenching.

The young man with brown hair kept walking forward toward Seventeen. “Oh wait a sec,” he said and stopped where he was. “I'm kinda hungry, mind if I eat before we do this?” he asked. Confusion flashed across Seventeen's face as the man reached into his bag and pulled out a peach. He immediately took a large bite out of the fruit, chewing away as the android watched in both annoyance and curiosity.

“Oh,sorry man, I'm an ass,” the man said after swallowing hard. “You want one too? I've got plenty to share,” he addressed the android before reaching into his bag for another peach. “Here,” he said once he had the peach in hand, and used an underhanded toss to lob the fruit to Seventeen. The fruit arced high into the air, and Seventeen stood still as he watched it fly up, and then down into his hands almost perfectly.

Seventeen studied the fruit curiously for a moment as it felt heavier than he expected. He slowly turned the peach in his hand, noticing that the top of it was cut in a semi-circle but still attached. Finally turning to the other side, he found a metal device sticking out of the end of the peach, that looked like some kind of canister. “Wha—”

The android never finished his thought as the peach exploded in his hands, a shockwave of intense light and electricity bursting forth like Trunks had never seen. Trunks's one open eye he was using to watch Seventeen burned, and he clenched both eyes tightly shut in response. That was when he felt someone grab his jacket at the top of his left shoulder and start dragging him.

Trunks fumbled along, and all he could hear was someone slowly counting. “Three one-thousand, four one-thousand,” the same young man he'd heard taunting Seventeen chanted as they ran. “Five one-thousand,” he whispered harshly, and Trunks stumbled over something, causing him to nearly fall to the ground. “Six one-thousand,” he heard the man say, and the next thing Trunks knew, he was pushed harshly to the ground and something came up to cover his mouth.

Slowly Trunks's vision started to come back to him, and he could see that he'd been dragged into a building by the young man. He didn't appear much older than Trunks, and he had a set of black sunglasses on his face, covering his eyes. Trunks glanced down and realized that it was this man's hand that was covering his mouth.

“Don't say anything,” the man whispered and removed his hand from Trunks's mouth. He then reached down into a brown bag he was carrying and pulled out a small device. He flipped the top up and powered it on, and Trunks realized it was some kind of mini-computer. He watched as the young man did something, and suddenly Trunks heard an engine roar not far from their location. Seconds later, he heard Seventeen cursing and the sound of squealing tires, as if someone was slamming on the accelerator to a car.

It sounded like the car was driving away from them, and moments later there was a loud explosion. Trunks would know the sound anywhere; it was a ki explosion. Seventeen must have fired on the car,Trunks thought. He looked down at the computer in the other guy's hands, which was then shut by its owner.

The young man put the computer away in his bag and then raised his sunglasses up, setting them on the top of his head. “You're gonna be okay,” he whispered to Trunks, his green eyes telling Trunks that this wasn't someone he needed to be afraid of. The young man then stood up and slowly looked out of an open window. “Looks like he's gone,” he said quietly but not at a whisper, and then looked back down at Trunks.

“Come on,” the man said and pulled Trunks up by his jacket into a standing position. Trunks wanted to scream at the pain, but managed to hold it in. The brown haired man then looped Trunks's right arm around his neck and used his left arm to help support Trunks against the left side of his body. “I had to sacrifice my car so we're gonna have to walk,” he explained and started moving, nearly dragging Trunks with him.

Once they'd walked outside of the building and back into daylight, Trunks clenched his eyes shut. The sunlight burned; it was far too bright.

“So where are we going?” the man asked, and Trunks still couldn't open his eyes to look at him.

“Capsule Corporation,” Trunks managed to choke out weakly.

“You're in luck,” the man laughed, “that's about the only place I know how to find in this city.”

-+-

Illumination

Interlude: Neis

-+-

After discovering that Quarry had been murdered, Trunks returned to the ship and puked in his bathroom. That night, he couldn't sleep. He was exhausted but his mind wouldn't rest, and his heart was heavy. If he had never met Q, then he'd likely still be alive. Additionally, Armada would be dead. Was this the nature of life? Someone had to die so someone else would live? He'd had his share of brushes with the true nature of causality, considering he had traversed time and the universe itself to witness how events would unfold under different circumstances. Yet he didn't understand it any better than anyone else.

Unable to sleep, Trunks did some research online to find that Q was going to have a funeral the next day. After that, he tried to sleep and did manage to lose track of a few hours which he assumed were due to sleep, but he was so exhausted he wasn't sure. By the time morning rolled around, he finally decided to get out of bed and shower. He was lucky in that no one was paying attention when he left.

Trunks knew when he left that he had nothing to wear to a funeral... nor did he know what was appropriate for a Bmyhadian funeral. He'd never attended one. Which was almost odd for him to think about, considering the number of funerals he'd attended on Earth. While the nightmare was over, it wasn't easily forgotten. At least not for him.

Despite the early hour, many shops in Ute were already open. Trunks found his way into one that appeared to specialize in men's suits. He really had no idea what he needed, or if he could even get something only hours before the funeral, but he felt that he had to try. Upon walking inside, he found himself in what appeared to be a very nice and very upscale shop. He was almost afraid to step onto the carpet for fear of leaving a stain, when a woman approached him.

“Good morning sir, what can I help you with today?” she asked jovially. She had light blue eyes hiding underneath black glasses, and light blonde hair pulled back away from her face.

“Ah,” Trunks hesitated and looked down for a moment. “I need,” he looked back up into her eyes. “I need something to wear for... a funeral,” he finished. He hadn't felt quite this awkward in some time.

“Oh, I'm very sorry for your loss,” the woman apologized sympathetically. “I'm Rei, and I'm going to do my best to help you out today, okay?” she added with a slight smile. “Now, when are the services?” she asked.

Trunks had to think for a moment before he replied. “Forty-five-hundred,” he answered. He always had to think about Bmyhadian time before he spoke about it because he internally translated it to match Earth time.

“Today?” Rei appeared surprised. “Well, it's not impossible, but,” she trailed off, crossing her arms over her chest as she thought. She seemed nervous for a brief moment, before she finally spoke. “I'm not sure we have anything in stock, that's... in your size,” she stated nervously.

“Oh,” Trunks said dejectedly when her meaning really hit him. “Oh,” he said again, suddenly aware all over again that he didn't exactly have the build of the average Bmyhadian. Or human, for that matter.

“Rei, I need your help in the back,” an elderly man called out as he approached from the rear of the store. When he noticed she was standing in front of Trunks, he turned and waved her off. “Nevermind, come back when you finish with the customer,” he threw over his shoulder, and Trunks noticed he had an accent he hadn't heard before.

“Mr. Mestele, wait!” Rei called out to him. “I could use your help,” she tacked on when he stopped in his tracks.

Mestele quickly turned and approached Rei and Trunks. When he stopped next to Rei, he raised a hand to his chin. “Mmm, I see,” he spat. “Get his measurements, we'll start from there,” he finished and turned to leave.

“He needs something today,” Rei shot out after Mestele.

The elderly man stopped and turned back to Rei with a smirk on his face. “Ah, a challenge,” he said, and wiped his left hand over the top of his bald head. “Why didn't you say so?”

Rei smiled at him and turned toward Trunks. “This is Mr. Mestele, he is the master tailor of this shop and the owner,” she explained while still wearing her smile. “Anyway,” she turned back toward her boss, “I haven't gotten his measurements yet, but I think the suit that we did last year for Corazon, the thrashball player, might be a good base to work from.”

“Ah, my darling Rei, you are correct!” Mestele exclaimed excitedly. “You get the measurements, I'll get the suit out of storage!” he shouted and turned to run toward the back.

“It's for a funeral so make sure you grab a replacement chestplate!” Rei called after him. The store was empty this early in the morning, during the typical Bmyhadian work week, and so Rei's voice echoed across the store. She turned toward Trunks, whose face was sullen. Rei reached up and adjusted her glasses. “Very sorry about that, sir,” she said lowly.

“Thanks,” Trunks responded lowly, his gaze drifting off into nothing.

-+-

“Lowell, what the hell were you thinking?!” Bulma shouted, failing to keep her voice down.

“I didn't tell him anything,” Lowell spat back defensively.

“Then how did he bring Trunks here?!” Bulma countered, her voice starting to grow hoarse from her volume.

“I don't know Bulma, you're the one that called me here to scream at me!” Lowell countered. He ran his right hand up through his hair and turned away from her. He didn't want to fight with Bulma, but she was being completely unreasonable at the moment.

“Did you know he said he attacked the androids?” Bulma scoffed. “Does he think I'm stupid? No one attacks the androids and lives! Not even,” she choked on her own words, unable to the say the name of her friend's son who had lost his life two years ago. It was still too raw.

“Bulma, I don't,” Lowell started, moving closer to her and reaching out to place his right hand on her should. “I don't know what happened,” he continued in a near-whisper. “I wasn't there. But Neis, he's... he's not one to lie.”

“No... he's not.”

Bulma and Lowell both turned to toward the sound of the voice to see Trunks standing in the hallway at the edge of the living room, leaning against the wall. “Trunks!” Bulma called out to her son and rushed over to help him. She put her right shoulder under his left arm and helped him hobble over to one of the couches in the living room and sit down.

“Son,” Bulma said, tears streaking down her face as she hugged Trunks and kissed him on the forehead.

“I'm gonna be okay mom,” Trunks replied through a strained breath. “I've had worse.” Bulma stepped back but still her her hands on his shoulders, standing in front of her son. He was all that she had left in this world, and she wouldn't be able to go on if she lost him.

“Lowell,” Trunks finally said after a long minute of silence, “you know that guy?”

“Yes,” Lowell nodded, “I do.”

Trunks thought a moment before he asked, “Can I meet him?”

A few minutes later, Lowell had retrieved the young man from outside of Capsule Corporation and brought him inside. Bulma sat at a chair in the living room, sipping coffee in an attempt to calm her nerves. Trunks was still seated on the couch where his mother had left him, and Lowell stood off to the side of Bulma. The man of the hour stood across from Trunks, on the other side of a small coffee table in the center of the room.

“What's your name?” Trunks asked.

“Neis Redeen,” the young man answered plainly.

“Hi Neis, I'm Trunks,” Trunks replied, his mouth slowly forming into a smirk.

“Hi Trunks,” Neis replied, a smile forming on his mouth as well.

“What did you do to android Seventeen?” Trunks followed up. He heard them talking, but he wasn't facing the right direction at the time to witness everything that had happened. Not to mention that he was blinded by whatever device had exploded.

“Uhh,” Neis glanced over to Bulma before his eyes fell back on Trunks. “Well, I took a design from Capsule Corporation that we studied in university,” he began nervously. “For an EMP device, and changed the frequency of the signal, then combined it with a modified flashbang grenade. And,” he hesitated, “shoved it in a peach.”

“Anyway,” Neis rambled on, “it messes with their optics and their systems have to do a quick reset to adjust. It only lasts about six seconds,” he finished.

Trunks nodded in understanding. Now the counting that Neis had done at the scene made sense.

“You've found a way to blind them?” Bulma questioned with nervous excitement.

“No,” Neis answered. “Not really. It's a one-time thing. After their systems reboot, they're not susceptible to it anymore,” he finished with a grimace.

“How do you know that?” Trunks asked, his curiosity piqued.

Neis laughed, “I did it to the blonde bitch. Didn't go so well the second time.” An awkward silence descended upon the room, and after shifting on his feet nervously a few times, Neis decided he'd had enough. “So uh, I'm gonna head out now,” he said and turned to look for a door.

Bulma stood up from her seat. “Please, stay,” she began. “I'm going to make dinner and I'd like everyone to stay,” she finished, glancing between both Lowell and Neis. She then turned and headed for the kitchen, and Lowell trailed along behind her.

Neis stood awkwardly for a moment before deciding to take a seat next to Trunks on the couch. He sat down slowly, trying his best not to move the furniture much and cause Trunks any pain. The pair sat in silence for several minutes before Neis finally broke the ice. “So your mom's kind of a ballbuster, isn't she?”

Trunks immediately laughed, then coughed several times between muttering 'ow.' “Don't make me laugh.”

-+-

Several hours later, Trunks finished putting on the first alteration Mestele and Rei made. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding when he looked at himself in the mirror inside the changing room. He was wearing a long black tunic with gold trim split at his sides and in the back. It had a high, wide collar, with a trail of a few buttons leading from his neck to his right shoulder. The pants were also black with small gold accents, and an odd band just under the knee. In a way, the trim made it look like he had a knight's armor on his shins. The whole thing was very surreal.

Trunks grimaced when he looked at his face in the mirror. He was still roiling in anger, guilt, sadness and fear. And probably a dozen other emotions in amounts too small for him to identify. He suddenly longed for simpler days. As dark as the majority of his life had been, at least there was a clear enemy in front of him, something to focus all of his frustration on. With Q's death... he only had himself to blame.

“Everything okay?”

The sound of Rei's voice shook Trunks from his thoughts. He turned and opened the door, walking out of the changing room and toward the seamstress.

Rei let out a sigh of relief. “It looks great, I'm so glad,” she said before moving around him. She studied how the fabric fell as she circled him, and by the time she stopped in front of Trunks again, she smiled. “I think we've managed it,” she added.

“So,” Rei took in a deep breath, “what color ribbon did you need?”

“Ribbon?” Trunks repeated, confusion appearing on his face.

Rei's hands closed into fists in front of her. “Right, you're not from here, so you don't know. Well,” she started, hesitating as she thought of how to speak with sensitivity on the matter. “At a traditional Bmyhadian funeral, everyone wears a ribbon. When it's time to lower the casket into the ground, everyone takes off their ribbon and tosses it into the grave. It's viewed as your... final message for the person that's passed.” She took a breath, “And the color of the ribbon indicates the message that you want to send.”

Trunks felt uncomfortable about what she'd just described. “Uh, isn't that kind of... personal? To be doing that in front of a bunch of people—”

“Oh, it's a no-judgment thing,” Rei replied, waving her hands in front of her. “I know it sounds weird, but trust me, you don't want to go without a ribbon. Whatever message you send isn't as nearly frowned upon as if you don't send one at all,” she finished, looking at Trunks pointedly from underneath her glasses.

“Okay,” Trunks conceded, his eyes looking around the room before settling back on Rei. “So what color do I need?” he asked.

“The easiest way to do this,” Rei reached up and adjusted her glasses, “is for you to tell me what kind of message you want to send. Because there are too many scenarios for me to describe to you for you to figure out which one applies.”

Trunks sighed and his eyes fell away from Rei, but his gaze turned inward. “I'm sorry,” he said lowly. “I want to say I'm sorry.”

-+-

“Wow,&r dquo; Neis said, wide-eyed as he walked through the one and only Bulma Briefs's lab. “Your mom has some pretty cool stuff down here,” he admired aloud, stopping to take a look at a multi-tool sitting out on one particular work bench.

“Yeah well, she's kind of a big deal,” Trunks replied with a laugh from his seat at one of the other work benches in the lab. He'd just met Neis last week when the crazy bastard rescued Trunks from Seventeen on the streets of Grandview, one of the older neighborhoods in West City. Trunks wondered if he was drawn to Neis because he had no other friends his own age since Gohan was killed two years ago. But Neis had a mind for science and engineering, so maybe they had more in common than the demi-Saiyan was willing to admit.

“So you guys spend a lot of time down here?” Neis asked, setting down the multi-tool and actually turning to look at Trunks.

“Yeah,” Trunks replied, still slouched with his back resting against the edge of the table behind him. “Mom's working on something that will hopefully help us defeat the androids,” he added. Neis didn't need to know that 'something' was really a time machine, so Trunks left that particular detail out. Even if Neis knew who he was and what he could do, that didn't mean that Trunks had to tell him everything.

“How do you know Lowell?” Trunks suddenly asked. It was something that he'd wondered about since the night when Neis introduced himself.

“Ah, the old man was a literature professor at Northern Reserve University in North City, where I'm from,” Neis started, making a point to find a screwdriver particularly interesting and thus avoid his new friend's gaze. “I was a student there along with my older sister, Elise. She actually knew professor Maxwell before me, because she had his class her first year. There was a bad attack on North City a few years before that which killed our parents,” Neis explained, twisting the screwdriver around in his hands.

“Anyway, Elise got to know professor Maxwell because she hated writing essays and went to all of his office hours. He found out that we were orphans and just... tried to help out, I guess. It's not like we moved in with the guy and his family, you know?” Neis said, turning to look at Trunks and laugh. “And it wasn't that long ago that the government kept telling us to live normal lives,” he muttered softly.

“So I'm sure you already know,” Neis turned toward Trunks again, “about how North City got leveled back in January.” He studied the young Briefs and received a solemn nod in response. “Anyway, ah,” Neis hesitated. “Elise was killed, and so was professor Maxwell's family. He had a wife and two kids,” Neis said lowly. “He was leaving town when we ran into each other,” Neis continued, his gaze losing focus as the memories replayed in his mind. “I had just buried my sister, but Lowell's family was just... gone.” Neis let out a deep sigh and stayed quiet for a moment. “Anyway, Lowell convinced me to go with him to West City. He said, 'They're putting up some kind of defense there,'” Neis said, imitating the professor's deeper voice, “'I don't know how, but anything's better than staying here at this point.'”

Trunks didn't need to hear any more to know what Neis meant when he said 'gone.' That was what happened when someone was vaporized by ki – there was nothing left. It was very traumatizing to people who survived because they couldn't find closure, they couldn't put their loved ones to rest. Trunks understood Neis's grief, and he thought he might have already known the answer to the question he was going to ask, but he wanted to know if Neis would actually admit to it.

“Why do you bother trying to fight the androids?” Trunks asked. Neis turned his attention back to Trunks and looked a little surprised at the question. “They could kill you without even trying,” Trunks added. Maybe Neis already knew that, but maybe he needed to hear it from someone who knew better.

The twenty-one-year-old laughed and looked down, thinking about what he wanted to say. After a long silent minute, he looked back up at Trunks. “My family is dead; all of my friends, everyone and everything I knew is gone,” he started. “I don't care if those assholes kill me if I can give them a little bit of grief before I go. Besides,” Neis laughed darkly, “if there really is an afterlife, maybe I'll get to see my parents and sister again.”

Trunks's gaze fell to the floor and his mood went with it. Neis wasn't alone in how he felt; by this point, Trunks was sure that almost all of what remained of humanity shared his sentiment. Everyone had lost someone, and everyone wondered if they were better off following their loved ones in death instead of living in constant fear. Not to mention the other issues that the collapse of society brought on—disease, crime, hunger, and violence, among others.

It was people like Neis and Lowell that Trunks had failed. The two of them had lost everything and had little to hope for. He looked up and Neis had found something else to investigate in the lab, and had turned away from Trunks and their conversation. Trunks suddenly felt more determined than he had since Gohan had died. He had to stop the cybernetic monsters to save the human race, but also to save the souls of people like Neis who'd completely lost hope.

-+-

The cemetery was several kilometers from the tailor shop downtown, but Trunks decided to walk anyway. He had enough time to take a slow pace, and the weather was cool enough that he wouldn't show up a sweaty mess. Rei had helped him tie back his hair into a braid, because apparently it was rude to wear it down, and she had also helped him tie a knot in the yellow ribbon he carried in his right-hand pocket.

Quarry's funeral had already begun as Trunks approached the small gathering of people. Someone in front of the casket, a priest Trunks supposed, was speaking lowly to the group of mourners gathered around the grave. Suddenly Trunks realized that he wasn't sure he was in the right place, considering the cemetery was quite large and this was the first group he'd happened upon. He stayed toward the back when he noticed someone up near the front that he recognized. Murtole was standing close to the casket, his head down as he appeared to stare at it while the priest droned on. Trunks shifted slightly, trying to get a better look at his friend's face through the crowd because something seemed off.

“Trunks, right?”

Trunks nearly jumped when he heard a woman say his name from behind him. He turned to his left to see a young woman with long, light brown hair and darker brown eyes finish taking a step closer to him. She smiled warmly to him, “It's okay, Elric's told me about you. I'm his older sister, Eleanor.”

The earthling had to think for a moment to remember that Murtole's first name was Elric. “Ah, nice to meet you,” Trunks attempted to recover but nearly stumbled over his words. He held out his right hand toward Eleanor. “Despite the circumstances,” he tacked on as she took his hand and shook it.

After releasing his hand, Eleanor took another half step forward and stood next to Trunks to his left. She didn't say anything else, but gaze focused on her brother in the front of the group. The pair stood in silence for a moment when someone began crying out, clearly upset over Quarry's death. Looking forward in the group, Trunks quickly realized it was Murtole who was crying uncontrollably, having fallen to his knees while an older man attempted to console him.

Eleanor sighed heavily next to him, and when Trunks looked back at her he could see her eyes watering up significantly, though she didn't cry. “It's going to be really hard on him,” she said sadly, not breaking her gaze from her brother.

“It's hard to lose a friend,” Trunks replied, thinking of Gohan when he said the words. When he thought about Gohan's funeral, he remembered crying much the same as Murtole was doing.

Eleanor laughed slightly before looking up at the much taller Trunks. “You don't know, do you?” The blank look on his face told her the answer. “Quarry wasn't Elric's friend, he was his boyfriend.” Trunks's eyebrows rose in surprise, and Eleanor continued. “Well, they weren't together currently as Quarry had broken it off a few months back, but they'd been serious for a few years. We all thought they'd eventually get married.” She turned and watched her brother again as the same older man with dark hair slowly led Elric away from the ceremony.

Trunks felt sick. He'd killed Murtole's lover? His guilt over Q's death was bad enough, but knowing this made it ten times worse.

“They met back in college,” Eleanor continued without any prompting. “Quarry never lived on exactly the right side of the law, so when Elric started his post-graduate work with NSTF,” she trailed off. “Well, Quarry didn't want his... lifestyle to hurt Elric's career. That was what he told me, at least, and I don't think he had any reason to lie.” She turned to look at Trunks, who was now staring down at the ground in front of him, his face ashen. “They still spoke, although Q was trying to keep his distance. I think he knew something like this could happen and was trying to spare Elric's feelings.” Eleanor smiled again, and this time tears ran down her face. “It doesn't mean we won't miss him, though,” she said sadly, trying to force a smile through her tears.

Trunks glanced at Eleanor and immediately regretted it, and he felt that familiar burning sting behind his eyes as he fought to keep his composure. The day was hard enough as it was, but the additional knowledge he now had made it immeasurably worse. The two of them remained silent through the rest of the priest's speech. When it ended, everyone milled about while the casket was lowered into the ground. The mourners then began approaching the open grave and tossing colored ribbons in. Trunks was relieved that Rei wasn't kidding with him when it came to the ribbons. He fell into a makeshift line, and was one of the last to approach the grave.

He looked down into the grave and saw a myriad of colored ribbons, some with intricate knots tied into them. Trunks pulled out the ribbon Rei had given him; it was a deep yellow color, with three loops knotted together and the rest of the ribbon trailing from where they intersected. He tossed the ribbon into the grave, and quickly stepped back to make room for others. Taking a few steps away from the grave, he looked out into the cemetery. On a road farther down the hill, he noticed a few people standing by a parked car that appeared to be looking at the gathering at Quarry's funeral. He saw one of them get into the back of the vehicle and two more get into the front. Trunks didn't think much of it since his mind was filled with other thoughts, and turned to head for the exit.

Walking back up the hill with his hands in his pockets, Trunks was lost in thought. His gaze was turned toward the ground, only watching the next few feet in front of him as he walked. When he made it back up the hill and only had another thirty feet to leave, he looked up and saw someone standing in the shade of a few trees near the exit. “Armada?” he questioned aloud to himself, recognizing his comrade. She appeared to be waiting for him, so he made his way over.

“What are you doing here?” Trunks asked when he'd met up with his partner. She was wearing her armor with a cropped black jacket over it.

Armada took a few steps forward to meet him. “Lai said you were upset yesterday after seeing something on the news. I did some digging and saw the story about him,” she explained, nodding her head toward Quarry's grave site.

Trunks was confused. “I don't understand,” he started, “how did you know about Q?”

An emotion that Trunks couldn't place flashed across her face and she shifted on her feet. “He introduced himself to me.”

Armada read through the ship's security logs with an intense visage. Files had been added and altered, but nothing appeared to be broken, and the intrusion detection systems hadn't picked up anything. She selected several files and prepared to delete them when the system froze. Before she had a chance to investigate, a video comm channel opened.

“I wouldn't delete that if I were you,” a man with curly black hair and glasses said quickly.

The shock on Armada's face quickly descended into anger. “Who—?!”

“A friend. A friend of a friend, actually,” he replied. “The name's Quarry but all my friends call me Q. Anyway, I hacked into your ship so I thought I'd upgrade your cyber warfare suite since it was pathetically out of date,” he added with a laugh. “I also added a few attack packages written by yours truly, and some additional decryption heuristics, along with my own proprietary IDS application.”

Armada opened her mouth to speak but Quarry cut her off again. “Toran couldn't fly your ship, so he asked for my help. That's how you got from Virda back to Bmyhad. Someone as smart as you must have thought about how that happened, right?” Armada stared in shock. “Anyway, sorry for hacking your ship, but I figured it was for a good cause. I'll keep the lines open if you need me. Later!” Q finished cheerily and the connection terminated.

Armada sat in her chair in the bridge, dumbfounded while trying to digest what the hell had just happened.

If Trunks hadn't been wracked with guilt over Q's death, he might have laughed at what Armada told him. He did manage a sad smile as his gaze fell away from his comrade.

“Anyway, I pulled the police reports. It was definitely an execution,” Armada began flatly, completely unaware of her partner's feelings.

“It was Rieve,” Trunks replied lowly, still looking away from her.

“I thought so too,” Armada continued, still emotionally clueless to the situation. “But that means they've brought a new team into Ute, because the Utian cell was destroyed a while ago.”

Trunks shot Armada a stern but curious gaze. “How do you know that?” he asked, suspicious of his partner. Armada stared back at him but said nothing, which told him exactly what he suspected. “When?” he finally asked.

“Two months ago,” she replied flatly.

Trunks thought for a moment. Two months ago would have lined up with the night she came back to the hangar badly beaten. That was also the night before she went off to fight Corvus. It would explain how she knew where the assassin was and that he was coming for her. Besides all of that, Trunks knew that Rieve had brought someone in, since Dax was the one who had killed Quarry. Even so, Trunks still didn't want to tell her about his run-in with Dax.

“Anyway,” Armada said, reaching into an inside pocket on her black jacket to pull out her phone. She quickly brought something up on the screen and held out the device to Trunks. “There's something you should know about your friend.”

Trunks took the phone from her, and on the display was a picture of Quarry's face and a bunch of information about him, including his last name—Listern. Trunks was about to ask what the point was when he was cut off.

“Quarry Listern, twenty-six years RST,” Armada began. “His mother died from an illness when he was a young child. His father died last year in what the Utian police called a 'gang related incident,'” she paused for a moment and Trunks looked up at her, taking his gaze away from the information in his hand. “His mother's maiden name before she married his father was Orelnenn,” Armada added, trailing off.

“The same...?” Trunks started to ask but his voice died off.

Armada nodded. “The Orelnenns are enemies of Rieve. Quarry was a tech expert and could hack into almost anything. He was a problem for Rieve, outside of anything he did for us,” she finished.

Trunks didn't know what to say. Was Armada trying to console him? No, he thought and shook his head slightly. She was stating her own opinion on the matter, it didn't have anything to do with him. Regardless of the reason why Rieve murdered Quarry, they still did it, and Trunks was going to make them pay. He looked at Armada for a moment and considered telling her about Dax. She took her phone back from his hands and he lost his nerve. What good would it do now, anyway? She'd be angry and Quarry would still be dead.

“Let's go,” Trunks stated bitterly and walked away from his comrade toward the street. He was emotionally drained and just wanted to forget about the day's events.

-+-

The sound of something heavy hitting the ground hard caught Trunks's attention. He turned to his left to see a case of beer had been dropped next to him. He looked up and saw Neis carrying a few bottles of what he guessed were other types of alcohol. Neis shot Trunks a conspiratorial grin before he plopped down next to his friend in the grass.

“What's all of this for?” Trunks asked cautiously. He was just fine by himself, sitting on the Capsule Corporation lawn and looking at the night sky. The summer weather was perfect, and it was the first time in a long time that Trunks had looked at the stars and wasn't looking for the androids.

“The celebration!” Neis exclaimed and looking at his best friend as if he was crazy for even asking the question. Trunks had returned from his trip to the past just four days ago. The day he'd returned, the androids attacked nearby and Trunks gleaned their location from a radio station that was still broadcasting. He flew to them and killed them with little fanfare. But that didn't stop his friends and family from trying to force festivities upon him.

“Besides,” Neis said as he pulled a bottle of beer from the case he'd dropped down between them, “you're legal to drink now, right?”

Trunks sighed. Neis didn't know about the time machine until after Trunks had returned from the past the second time. That secret had been well kept, except this last trip to the past blew his cover. After spending two years in the Room of Spirit and Time, Trunks was two years older, and it showed. He had Bulma cut his hair before he left the past, but he was taller and according to his own mother, his features had 'matured.'

When his friend Neis had first seen him yesterday since Trunks had returned, his immediate reaction was “What the hell happened to you?!” Trunks couldn't blame him, and it was a conversation he couldn't avoid. He confessed to Neis everything that he'd been keeping from his friend, and everything that had happened. Neis took it all in stride, but was also desperate to ask Bulma about time travel. Trunks wasn't sure if he'd done so yet, but he knew his mother would love to teach Neis all about it.

“Here, drink,” Neis ordered, shoving a beer into Trunks's chest. Trunks took the bottle from his friend's hand and twisted off the cap. He wasn't sure about this, but why not? It wasn't as if he had to worry about being too tipsy to deal with the androids.

Trunks took a long drink, which was a mistake. He pulled the bottle away from his lips and grimaced as he swallowed the bitter liquid. “People actually like this crap?” he asked with a slight cough.

Neis laughed. “It's not so much about the taste, but more about the effect,” he answered. He turned and picked up a different bottle, this was much larger and had a different label on it. Neis unscrewed the cap and handed it to Trunks. “Try this, it might be more up your alley.”

Trunks took the bottle and quickly read the label. It was a type of whiskey, and the smell didn't instill much confidence in him. He decided to go for it, and took a small sip from the bottle. The whiskey burned a little on the way down, but the taste wasn't nearly as bitter as the beer.

“Not bad, right?” Neis asked, barely containing a smile.

Trunks nodded, smiling back at his friend. “It's all right.”

An hour later, the first whiskey bottle was gone and Trunks was entirely at fault. He was halfway through the second, while Neis had stuck to beer alone. Trunks had an inkling that he could burn off the effects of the alcohol if he really wanted to, but he didn't. Being intoxicated was somehow... pleasant. It was as if all of the thoughts and worries that clawed at the back of his mind at all times were suddenly silent.

“So what,” Neis stopped and burped, raising his right hand to face in a lame attempt at manners. “What are you gonna do now?” he asked, his words coming out a little slowly.

“What?” Trunks asked, blinking at his friend. It was hard to look at Neis, because Trunks felt like he wanted to fall over where he sat.

“Y'know,” Neis started again, “there's no more psychotic toasters so,” he trailed off. “So, what now? You spent all your time fighting th-them, so... you know?”

When his friend was talking, Trunks took another long drink of whiskey. He swallowed hard and took a moment before he replied to Neis. “I dunno,” he said plainly. “It's like, when I killed them, I killed me too,” he started, looking down at his hands. “My whole life has been about stopping them, so it's like, my life is over?” he finished, his voice rising as if he were asking a question. He wasn't sure who he was asking, though. “I mean, I gotta kill Cell,” he hastily added, “but that's like three years from now and it'll be easy anyway because I know he's going to come after me.” Trunks looked back at Neis and gave and awkward shrug.

“Naw man,” Neis answered, then finished the last of the beer he was holding before setting the bottle down on the ground next to the other empty bottles. “You've got, like, everything,” Neis stated while gesticulating widely with his arms. “Your mom's a super hot genius, you're rich, you could probably get any girl you wanted, you're smart too,” Neis shrugged back at him. “Y-you can like, rule the world and shit,” he finished with a laugh.

Trunks stared at Neis while he thought about what his friend just said. He did have a lot of advantages over any other person on the planet. There were probably a hundred, no, a thousand potential paths for him to take, but he couldn't see them. He wondered why it seemed so obvious to Neis but so clouded to himself. Another thought came to Trunks and after thinking on it for a solid minute, he spoke. “Wait... did you just say my mom was hot?”

-+-

The day after Quarry's funeral, Trunks's mood was still morose. He'd planned on just avoiding Armada and Laiserta, and Armada made that easy for him since she'd left that morning. He had no idea where she went, he was so out of it he couldn't recall what she'd told him. Laiserta was the more difficult of the two anyway, as she was more likely to talk to him about what was going on.

Trunks walked to the galley to get something to eat; despite not feeling hungry he knew he needed to eat something. If there was one skill he'd gained from surviving the terror of the androids, he was able to eat even when he had no appetite. He knew how important it was to refuel, to be ready to fight at the drop of a hat. He wondered if his life now required the same level of constant vigilance. It didn't seem like a bad idea, at the least.

He attempted to walk through the lounge without incident, but Laiserta was sitting at the table eating when she spotted him. “Hey,” she called out, “I made dinner, there's plenty left if you're hungry.”

Trunks kept walking and didn't stop to look at her. In the galley, he found that she wasn't kidding when she said there was 'plenty left.' She could have fed twelve people with everything sitting out on the counter. Everything was still relatively warm so she must have just finished a short time ago. He gathered up some food on a plate, grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and went to the lounge to have a seat.

Laiserta didn't say anything when he sat adjacent to her at the only table in the lounge. Trunks started to eat in silence, and Laiserta kept quiet for several minutes. Finally, she decided to start a conversation.

“You'll be okay,” she said sympathetically.

Trunks looked up from his food and shot her a glare. He would be okay? Yeah, obviously, considering he was alive and his friend was dead.

“I know it sounds dumb,” Laiserta cut in. “But it's true. When bad shit like this happens, you can let it destroy you, and you can lay down and die. Or,” she shifted in her seat, and her tone lightened, “you can keep going. Your friend probably wants you to do the latter,” she finished.

Trunks wanted to tell her to shut up and screw off, but the bluntness of her words reached him. As fatalistic as what Laiserta said had sounded, it was true to a certain degree. He could let Q's death eat him up, or he could move forward. At least in moving forward, he could destroy Rieve and at least partially avenge Q's death. Even though Trunks did not fire the gun that killed Quarry, he was certainly partly responsible for drawing him to Rieve's attention. That, Trunks could not avenge, but only ask forgiveness.

“Anyway,” Laiserta said, rising from her seat and picking up her dishes. “I'm not good at this motivational crap, so that's all I've got for you. Consider yourself lucky,” she said with a smirk before leaving the lounge.

Trunks thought about what Laiserta said. But more than that, he thought about the strategy going forward. He and Armada had not developed their plan to attack Rieve, and he was going to approach her about doing just that. It would easier to 'move forward' if there was a target to move toward.

-+-

“So what'd you do this week?”

Trunks took a drink from the bottle of beer in his hand right when Neis had asked him that question. “Mom had me help setup the network at WCU,” he answered. “They had some old routers and switches, but they were pretty badly damaged. I installed a bunch of new equipment and ran new cabling to several labs. There's still a lot of cable runs to be done but I showed one of the students who's volunteering to manage the servers how to do it, so they'll be okay. They still have a month to get ready, anyway,” Trunks finished, and then took another drink.

Neis sat on a recliner to Trunks's right as the pair of them watched an old monster movie on the television in the upstairs living room in the main house. “Yeah Lowell's about ready to lose his mind, trying to get everything ready for the start of classes,” Neis laughed in between drinks of his own beer. “I don't think he intended to become the dean, but Mrs. B suggested it and it kind of stuck.”

“Yeah, she's good at that,” Trunks laughed darkly. It was a secret skill that people didn't realize she had until they'd already been duped into doing something she wanted. Trunks wondered briefly if that's how she got together with his father, and then shuddered at the thought.

“I know you're not enrolled or anything, but just hanging around the university might, I don't know, introduce you to some ladies?” Neis added with a pointed smirk.

“Dude, no,” Trunks started.

“You need to make an effort to meet someone,” Neis cut in. “It's not like the woman of your dreams is gonna fall into your lap,” he spat sarcastically. “Unless,” Neis leaned forward in his chair, a devious smile appearing on his face, “you already have someone you like, so you don't want to meet anyone else.”

Trunks let out an irritated sigh, his mouth settling into a scowl. “No. Don't start with this again, seriously,” he stated with a hint of anger in his voice.

“Aw come on,” Neis flopped back in his chair, exasperated. Suddenly Neis's face lit up with another idea. “Wait, are you gay? I mean, it's cool if you are, but I'm just wondering,” he trailed off.

Trunks choked because he'd chosen the wrong moment to take another drink. “What?! No!” Trunks shouted, and he could feel his face heating up in embarrassment.

“Okay okay,” Neis backpedaled. “I thought since we've known each for what, seven years now I would have known but,” Neis shook his head. “Anyway,” he redoubled his efforts, “is there someone you've interested in? Just a little? Come on man, live a little!”

Trunks sat forward in his seat, setting his elbows on his legs. He debated actually saying anything to Neis, knowing that his friend was too close to the situation. Then again, that could help him. There was someone he was interested in, but he'd mostly tried to stuff his feelings down and get rid of them. It wasn't as if he was head over heels for the woman, but there was something there. He sighed, then looked at his friend. “Someone... has my attention,” he started, now suddenly feeling incredibly juvenile.

“Do I know her?” Neis immediately asked.

Yeah, Trunks thought bitterly. It's your dead sister's best friend. He wouldn't phrase it like that, but it was certainly true. “It's, ah,” he hesitated. “It's Corrine,” Trunks finally said, his eyes falling away from Neis's for a moment before he looked back up.

Neis appeared stunned for a long moment. Then he suddenly threw his head back and fell into a fit of hysterical laughter. Trunks's face immediately fell into a frustrated scowl. “You asshole,” he said over Neis's laughter. He knew Neis could be kind of a jerk sometimes, but he really hadn't expected it in that moment. Trunks downed the rest of his beer and set the bottle on the floor by his feet.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Neis said between laughter as he finally started to calm down. He wiped at tears that had formed in his eyes. “You just,” he took a deep breath. “You have the worst luck,” he finished, shaking his head.

Now Trunks was confused. To his knowledge, Corrine wasn't dating anyone. “What do you mean?” he asked earnestly.

“Ah, how do I put this,” Neis said, glancing around the room as he thought. He finally looked his friend in the eyes and said, “Corrine doesn't play for the same team as you,” he said slowly. Trunks stared back at Neis and blinked, and Neis realized that what he said had gone over Trunks's head. Neis had a few beers by this point, and lost his patience and sense of tact. “She doesn't like dudes, man.”

“Oh,” Trunks said automatically. The true meaning of Neis's words hit him, and he added another “Oh” as his eyes widened in understanding.

“Look, people don't really know, so, don't say anything,” Neis waved his right hand as he spoke. He saw that Trunks was still annoyed, and suddenly felt bad. “I'm sorry man,” Neis added, his mood dropping.

Trunks shrugged, though his face still showed some disappointment. It wasn't as if he was heavily invested in the idea of dating Corrine, but the rejection still stung, even if it wasn't directly from her. “Anyway,” Neis broke into Trunks's thoughts as he stood from his seat. “I'm gonna go get some more beer,” he added while shaking his empty bottle.

Neis left the room and Trunks slumped back into his seat, sighing heavily. Little did he know that two weeks later, he would take a routine trip to Bmyhad that would change everything.

-+-

Thanks for reading! Please leave a review, I am starved for feedback!

-Silvia