Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Kingdom Come ❯ Chapter 23: Conversations with Dead People ( Chapter 23 )

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

WARNING: See Chapter 1

Kingdom Come
~ Chapter 23The torch's flame flickered in the wind, its steady murmur quieted turning into a slight roar or rage. It was a moment between moments, between night and dawn, when the entire world seemed to be waiting. The wind never really ceased its play across the sandy shore of an under-appreciated beach, but it held back some of its merriment for the somber mood of the single humanoid who plowed through its dance.

"I know I promised to take care of you," 17 choked. Torch in hand, he stood beside a small-sized pyre, though it was more than enough for the single occupant upon its raised dais. If he had had time, he would have created something larger, but time was not on his side. He doubted it ever had been. Nearby, statues of long forgotten figures loomed. He felt like something was breaking inside of him, but using his internal sensors, he discovered nothing was physically wrong with him. "I failed you in that."

The wind was picking up again, demanding that he hurry, or else it would extinguish the torch's flame. Sand flowed with the current of the wind, sliding over the beach like silk over smooth skin. That internal ache intensified as the android's free hand twitched in a remembered caress.

A night, not so long ago... Trunks had been wrapped up like a present in dark sheets of satin. 17 had taken great delight in unwrapping his 'present', letting his hands brush away the sheets with slow deliberateness. Trunks had enjoyed the process just as much, though his vocalizations had been cut to a minimum due to the fact his mouth was preoccupied with a kiss. He had enjoyed exploring all of his lover's body, delighting in the soft sighs and sharp hisses of pleasure that he could elicit.

There would be nothing like that for 17 ever again.

He could still remember how Trunks felt, writhing against him, moving over or under him, wrapped around him. He could remember how Trunks would tremble against him, almost at the point of climax, afraid while at the same time wanting it. He could remember each and every little telltale signal that was an admittance of pleasure and possible retaliation at a later date. He could still remember how Trunks tasted...

He caught the twitching out of the corner of his eye and then raised his hand so that he could visually inspect it. Staring at his now-stilled appendage, he turned to the covered form before him. Trunks lay still forever. Never to move again. Never to laugh again. Never to scream or cry.

Blue eyes closed as memories assaulted him. Vivid memories. That first kiss... That first caress... That first night. The last night they were together, simply laying against the lavender-haired youth, spooning him from behind, letting a single thumb trace over Trunks' abdomen. A night where they danced to the sounds of songs written long before the demi-saiyajin was even conceived, their bodies pressed flush against each other, arms wrapped around each other. 17 could still remember how it felt to bury his nose into Trunks' hair, inhaling his scent deeply, as if trying to memorize it for all of eternity. Now, those memories were all he had, ghosts that haunted him. But he wouldn't trade those ghosts for anything. They were all he had now. Opening his eyes, 17 tried to speak again. "I... I felt so alive when I was with you. You made me forget, for just a little while, that I wasn't organic anymore. That I am a machine. You made me live again. And I'll never be... Gods! For everything that you did for me, how did I repay you? I let you die. I'm sorry. So very sorry. You'll never know exactly how sorry I am."

His voice stilled as his throat tightened painfully. Taking a few deep breaths to try and get air passed the closed passage, 17 turned away to look out over the horizon. The sea stretched out before him, its waves a never-ending cascade of events. When the ache in his throat lessened a bit, he began again. "I promised to take you to the beach. I know how much you hated it the first time you came, when you were so very young and afraid of all the wide, open spaces. No place to hide. But, after a time, you came to love it just as much as I did. I promised to bring you here, and this is at least one promise that I can keep." His glacial eyes scanned the coast, as if missing something. He watched transfixed as the wind picked up a small amount of sand, twirling it around, forming a figure. The android stilled before the mirage of Trunks standing there, grinning at him his usual shy smile. But then the wind moved on, and the pieces and particles fell back to the earth, lifeless. The pain increased from that reminder. Artificial eyes closed for a moment as 17 tried to regain his voice. When he was able, the android opened his eyes to look out at the sea again, not daring to look at the shore for fear of seeing another illusion. "I... It doesn't seem as beautiful as it could have. It seems rather empty, in fact... without you here. Empty... like I am."

Blue eyes turned from gazing at the seemingly endless sea to gaze in the other direction. In the far, far distance -- so far away that if he placed his hand up, 17 would have been able to block out the disgusting blemish of the Imperial Palace and the surrounding spaceport -- their prison stood haughtily. "I wish I could join you. Sleep forever with you. Beside you. But, there are still things that need to be done before I can rest."

Being very careful, the artificial guard placed the torch in the expectant hand of a nearby statue, a figure with multiple arms but with a human face. Pulling out a small knife he had tucked in his belt, 17 began to hack away at his long, ebony tresses. With each lock of hair he cut, he laid it down on the gauze wrapped form, writing out both of their names. Moving the cloth slightly, the android was able to cut away some of Trunks' longer, lavender hair. "I doubt I'll be able to return to you, to join you, so if there is an afterlife... remember me, okay?"

"I guess this is good-bye, Trunks. I love you." With a soft reverence, 17 retrieved the torch and then leaned forward to light the pyre. Fire spread rapidly, fueled by accelerant. The android stepped back from the ravenous flames that claimed the physical remains of his lover, his tears only then illuminated by the light. As the body burned, 17 began to weave the strands of his lover's hair into the remaining lock of long hair he had. By the time Trunks' pyre was nothing more than ashes, 17 was finished with his thin braid. Staring down at the gray pile, he whispered, "I will always love you."

In the distance, the sun peeked out over the horizon, spilling a beam of golden light onto the sandy shore and illuminating the small patch where the fire had raged. 17 turned away, heading towards the palace.

***

He didn't much care for space travel.

He was Lord Kakarrot, ruler of the entire Trans-Galactic Empire. The most feared being in the whole universe. No one frightened him. But space travel made him uneasy. It was... too confining, too unpredictable. During space travel, they always spent a long time between destinations, no matter how fast the ship went, and the emperor's ship was always the fastest. Nevertheless, it was a long time. Time that Lord Kakarrot often thought was long enough for anything to go wrong.

He was paranoid like that.

He didn't appear affected by his surroundings though. He lay upon his massive bed, the sheets shimmering in the low light of the room and the distant starlight as the ship sped through the vastness that was space. He hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, and he wasn't really tired. But he found it easier to lie down and daydream than to acknowledge that he was on some cursed ship with only a few plates of metal and energy between him and total vacuum.

Closing his eyes, Lord Kakarrot thought about the grand chamber back home. Spacious and airy, filled with hundreds of lights and colors, decorated by streamers and banners, with a low table in the very back reserved for wedding presents that were more like a tax than anyone would admit to. In his mind, he could picture how it would feel to be standing there at his throne, his two sons standing at full attention in their respected spaces, dressed in their dress uniforms, and they'd be looking down at the crowd before them. And down the isle, coming towards him, dressed in the softest of sheer cloth, his lovely bride would walk to him willingly, smiling, finally caught and her wings happily clipped.

Her smile would always be the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Those saucy ruby lips, the perfect pearly teeth. He was certain she only smiled that smile for him. And she, of course, would look absolutely edible in the nearly nothing of her gown. The most stunning beauty upon which anyone would be blessed to lay their eyes. And soon, she would be all his. She would belong to him and him alone.

She was -his- bride.

And then she would bow at the foot of the stairs to the raised dais, and it would be up to him to allow her to approach with a beckoning of his hand. She would rise, graceful as ever, and climb the stairs to stand beside him. Beside him, where she would belong.

Forever.

At least this marriage wouldn't be as wretched as his last. Did marriage always have to be such a pain? 'Not this time,' he thought. 'The right person. It only takes the right person. Or a sane one.'

Of course, after the ceremony, there would be feasting and drinking and other party activities. But those wouldn't last long, because as soon as he had eaten his fill, he'd want to take her away from such revelry. He'd take her to their room, a room that no one would ever enter except them, and he'd remove that filmy dress, tossing it aside. And she would stand there before him, completely nude, her smooth alabaster skin a stark contrast to his rough tanned hands. Just thinking of how she would look, how she would feel under him, the royal saiyajin moaned. He wanted her right then, right there. But she wasn't there. He'd take his pleasure from her, again and again, enjoying the celebratory time of the 'honeymoon', as humans called it.

For a moment, the emperor thought about that. Honey Moon. He knew full well what happened when he saw the light of a full moon, and how he and his kind would transform into large ape-like creatures. But he also knew what honey was like, and it was anything but bad. Sweet and sticky, it had the potential to be very sensual. Lord Kakarrot grinned. 'Yes. Animalistic and sensual all at the same time. It will be glorious.'

Although he would have been more than happy to focus in on the sexual pleasures with which Bulma would continue to provide him, a different image flashed in his mind. Something recent. Not a daydream. A memory. Clearly in his mind, he saw his younger son pressed hard between a mostly-hidden alcove wall and the tall Demon Lord, pleading for a bed. A small self-satisfactory smirk came to his lips. Well, he'd be downright ignorant if he didn't -know- his son meant a bed for sex. Perhaps it was a little strange, his pride at Goten bedding Piccolo. Then again... maybe it was Piccolo who was bedding his son. He wondered at how that worked for a moment. Did they take turns or what?

On the other hand, with the way Goten's legs were wrapped around Piccolo's waist, it seemed entirely likely that Goten was more the receiver than the giver. Lord Kakarrot half-wished he'd asked when he'd spoken with Goten earlier that morning just before take-off.

"And here I was, thinking you would avoid me all morning," Lord Kakarrot smirked at his younger son as Goten entered the observation room where he had been waiting alone. It was almost time to leave. "You know, your brother couldn't even be bothered to come down here. No idea what he's doing. Can't even see me off. But not you. Here you are. Always have been a brave one."

"I see no reason to avoid you, father," Goten replied, his voice level and emotionless. He was dressed in his customary uniform, sans the normal scouter. Ever since he had learned how to detect chi without it, he rather felt it was somewhat silly to wear one. Besides, Piccolo preferred it gone, and that alone was reason enough to lose it. "Is there one?"

The elder male grinned as he turned from watching his son, to pretending to look out the window to the scurrying of the crew. He watched out of the corner of his eyes as Goten took a stand beside him, also watching the comings and goings below. Bringing his voice down to the barest of whispers, the monarch said, "I know you know what I saw last night."

"It's none of your concern," grounded out the youth. He knew that this was a topic his father wasn't going to let go of. Not after all those years of him harping on the matter. He just wished his father could hold off discussing it until -after- he returned from his bride-finding hunt. It was his life; why couldn't he be allowed to live it as he saw fit?

"Oh, but it is," his father stated. He turned his head to look at the smaller male, trying to judge Goten's demeanor. "Did you honestly think I wouldn't find out?"

"You -wouldn't- have found out had your bride not run away and had you not gone out specifically looking for trouble," the prince remarked dryly.

Lord Kakarrot fought down the impulse to backhand his son for his impudent comment; he had the foresight of knowing he should not antagonize Goten if he was to convince him of his proposal. Instead, he let out a harsh laugh voicing his displeasure. "Touché, my son. But keeping it a secret... That was smart. I'll give you that much. Smart to hide it from everyone. Remaining as Goten the Terrible. Keeping up the proper family image. Very smart, I'll agree. But you can drop the pretenses with me. I -know-, after all."

Goten had nothing to say to that.

"How long has it been going on, hmm?" inquired the emperor. "Weeks? Months? Perhaps since the tournament?" He nearly missed the blush on his son's features, as it disappeared almost the moment it appeared. Nearly, but not quite. He'd been looking for some sort of telltale sign, and that was about as over-the-top a reaction as he had ever gotten out of his youngest son, other than anger. Well, not really anger, more like rage. "Before that then? No wonder you found your brother's actions with the Demon Lord so completely deplorable. You -were- jealous. Weren't you... Jealous that he could do in public what you could not."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't." Lord Kakarrot smirked at Goten's small attempt at covering himself, though he knew it was pointless to deny it now. The royal saiyajin's tail flicked behind him slightly, as if silently laughing at the boy, but remained otherwise curled behind him. "But did it never occur to you that I might look favorably on the match?"

Goten nearly fell out of his skin at that. With wide eyes, he turned his attention from staring out the glass to the floor below to stare blankly at his father. Blinking a few times, his face flushing ever so slightly, he asked incredulously, "... Excuse me?"

Lord Kakarrot's grin was as merciless as the man himself, more than a little thrilled to have surprised the Royal Inquisitor so thoroughly. "You understand that this could turn out very well for my empire. Don't you?"

"What -are- you talking about?"

"Don't play coy with me, Goten," the monarch admonished. He turned to look back down at the preparations being made for his ship. Off-handedly, he continued, "You no longer have to give me any heirs, but that doesn't mean you can't still be useful in that area. Surely, you realize what I'm saying here. I mean for you to marry the Demon Lord."

"-WHAT-?!"

"Keep your voice down!" snapped the emperor insensitively.

Goten tried to reason. He was so taken off-guard by his father's announcement, or rather command, that his mind didn't want to process anything. For one, he was thrilled with the idea of 'being forced' to marry Piccolo, while at the same time he thought it was all somewhat pointless to even speculate on the topic. "But, father, I can't marry him. He's a -man-."

"I spent a good part of last night looking up any references to marriage between two men. And don't look at me like that," the elder man retorted, seeing Goten's eyebrows rise upwards in shock. He did not like the idea that his son thought him helpless in any area, even though research -was- an area at which he rather didn't excel. Still, he was no idiot. With a snort of defiance, the royal saiyajin continued, "I am perfectly capable of researching on my own. There are no laws or regulations regarding it. And I am emperor. Don't you think I would abolish that rule, were there one, if it stood in the way of something I wanted?"

"I suppose so," Goten replied slowly, coming to grips with his emotions and thoughts. As he slowly took control over his breathing, and the rapid pulse of his hammering heart slowed down, he also managed to come to grips with his expressions and mannerisms. Uncrossing his arms, he placed clasped his hands behind his back again.

"So, then you agree," Lord Kakarrot said rather than asked. To him, it wasn't a matter if Goten did or not, what mattered was if he would fight logic. Then again, this was Goten, the most logical of them all.

"No."

"What?" the emperor exclaimed, more than a bit taken aback. 'Well, there goes the idea that he's the most logical of us. I should have known better than to assume anything is a constant in this universe.' Why not?"

A lie. He needed a lie. What could he say that his father might buy? Goten's mind wheeled, and before he had sufficient time to weigh his answer, he found himself saying, "I have only been toying with him. To watch him. To make sure he would not challenge the empire in any way. He is, after all, stronger than Gohan. It would be unwise to allow him to go unguarded, though 17 does as well as could be expected. I do not know what you think is there, father, but I tell you that sex is a tool that I am using, and I doubt I am that adept at utilizing it. He would not marry me."

"Oh, for the gods' sakes, Goten. Do you really think I'm that stupid? I can tell when someone is being played for a fool. And right now, that someone is me," Lord Kakarrot replied scornfully, his tail lashing angrily behind him and his arms crossing over his chest. He moved so that he was no longer facing the bay below, but looking directly at his youngest son. Tilting his head to the side, he continued, "I don't know what it is exactly that you're trying to pull, but it won't work. You've given yourself away. I am not the ignorant old man I know you'd like to believe that I am. Now, you -will- marry the Demon Lord."

"Gohan will kill me," Goten stated after a moment, his voice soft and oh-so very reasonable.

"You leave Gohan to me," the ruling saiyajin commanded. With an arrogant smirk, he turned his gaze back to the window, seeing his reflection more than what was occurring on the other side. He had built this; even though he didn't create the building itself, the empire that forged it was his alone. But not for long... "He still must give me grandchildren, whereas you are not so obligated. He will have no choice but to accept the marriage."

"Why do you even want this?" Goten sighed, almost sounding a bit defeated. Almost.

"Simple," he said. "Alliance. Loyalty. Solidarity. If you are matched to him, his people will undoubtedly become loyal subjects without question, and if they're even half as powerful as he is, then they would be great assets to my empire."

Goten knew that, under normal circumstances, his father would be making a logical choice. Then again, Lord Kakarrot did -not- know that Piccolo and the two humans were from a parallel universe, nor did he know that the three guests would leaving for their universe the following day. But Goten knew that his father did not need to know such things and answered vaguely, "I will see."

"You do that." The tall saiyajin moved towards the door that led to the lift down to the boarding area. Turning back just slightly, he glanced over his shoulder at his young son. "Do you love him? This... Piccolo. Do you?"

Goten did nothing more than act as if he hadn't heard his father.

"You do," smirked the older man. "You love him. I never thought I'd see the day. Good for you."

Thinking back, Lord Kakarrot remembered that as one of the few rather fruitful conversations he had ever had with his younger son. Those kinds of conversations were so rare that he often was glad for them, as if they reminded him that his son was still a person, even if he did often act as cold as a machine. Like his androids.

A small frown marred his features. 18... He had not had the chance to speak with her again before he departed on his search for Bulma. It was downright odd for her to not have reported back to him once her task was completed. But he supposed she could have still been 'performing her task', as it were. And he would not deny 18 her fun. She had been, for all intents and purposes, denied any such activities while guarding the small human. It was just as well that Lord Kakarrot allowed her some leeway in taking care of business for him.

18 was the android who had a zest for mayhem, after all. Unlike the cold and calculating 17, or the strangely powerful yet unfortunately peaceful 16.

As Lord Kakarrot thought on his androids, he remembered the first time he had met the then trio. He had been passing through a small town, trying to cause as much havoc as possible. He had been in his late teens, and very strong. But not strong enough to prevent getting beaten down by them. They had appeared out of nowhere, deflecting his energy attacks and then mocking his anger at their defiance. He remembered swearing that they would pay for their insolence. He remembered telling them that he was a born conqueror. He remembered boasting that he would turn their empty skulls into chalices after he beat them. He remembered, to his chagrin, how easily they had defeated him that first time. 18 had taken special delight in causing him as much physical pain as mortally possible. Only a restraining hand from 17 prevented her from outright killing him.

"18, don't," 17 had said, his voice flat and emotionless. He stared down at the broken and bloodied form of the nearly crushed saiyajin. His blue eyes were as lifeless as a doll's, though his sister held a bit more light to hers, as if there was a spark of life in her.

"Why not?" 18 huffed, immediately backing down. "It's what we're designed to do."

"Exactly," 17 replied, motioning for her, and for the silent 16, to follow him away. "And what happens, sister, after we've defeated him? After he's dead and our program is completed."

"... I don't know." Even from where he was laying, the tailed warrior could hear the slight confusion in her otherwise cold voice.

"There will be nothing left for us to do," 17 replied calmly. "And I think that would be rather boring, don't you? So, let's prolong this a bit. Let's have some fun before he dies. There will always be tomorrow to hunt him down and kill him. There's no real need to rush."

"Heh. Yeah," 18 grinned. "In the meantime, we can do as we please. Yes. We're free people. We don't have to go back to them... We can do whatever we want, whenever we want to, and however we want to. We have the power. There's nothing and no one to stop us."

"Too right, sister." 17 replied. And together, the all turned to look down at the broken saiyajin, not realizing how many times they would have to defeat him, leaving him almost dead but not quite.

He had looked at each of their eyes. 16 had the most life-like eyes of them, sad and soulful, as if he knew some deep, dark, terrible secret that no one should ever have to find out. Lord Kakarrot wasn't sure if the androids had souls, but whatever that orange-haired monstrosity had kept hidden, he kept it unto death. Not that it mattered much, as they had all survived this long without knowing what 16 knew, so it probably wasn't life-or-death important. 17's eyes had always been lifeless, like a doll's eyes. Sometimes there would be sparks of life there, but those sparks could just as easily be something internal malfunctioning and being readjusted.

Of the androids, Lord Kakarrot felt the closest with 18, though it was 17 he preferred at his side. In her blue eyes, there was an animal ferocity, a carnal need to feel and to use and to torment. He understood her. He admitted that she was beautiful, but she was one of those rare lovelies with whom he would never bring himself to try and sleep. She... unnerved him. He didn't trust her completely. He respected her power, and admired her enthusiasm sometimes, but he didn't trust her, as he did 17.

Lost in his haze of dreams and memories, the Trans-Galactic emperor fell asleep.

***

As some of the guests who arrived for his father's upcoming nuptials were also potential entrants into the tournament still six months away, Gohan took it upon himself to put them in their places by sparring with them. Or, more the point, beating them to within an inch of their lives. However, his leisurely activity was abruptly brought to halt as some no-name guard interrupted it. Scowling deeply, he barked, "What do you want?!"

"I beg your pardon, Prince Gohan, for intruding, however, I bring news," apologized the guard. Lowering his voice to a nearly unintelligible quiet, he added, "Of a private nature."

Nodding, Gohan followed the guard into a closed-off hall and shut the door behind him. "Now, what is it?"

"I was sent to inform you that we've lost contact with the emperor's ship and have not been able to reestablish it," the guard stated quickly.

"Is that -all-?" Gohan snorted. "You bothered me for -that-? The ship probably went into an asteroid field or something. I'm sure it's nothing."

"Well, there weren't any asteroid fields near the vicinity of the last coordinates the ship..."

"I don't care!" Gohan interrupted. Turning his back on the guard, he began to return to the sparring grounds. "Don't ever bother me with such trivial nonsense again. It's -nothing-."

***

Lord Kakarrot stretched and yawned loudly once he'd awoken from his nap. 'Mmm. Such a nice sleep,' he thought. 'I must've been more tired than I thought.' Heavy with sleep, he slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes to clear them and swinging his feet to the cold metal floor. "Time," he called out into the room.

A computerized voice answered him, "8 o'clock in the evening, Palace Time."

'8 o'clock! I've been sleeping for over six hours! Some 'nap'. Hn.' Pulling himself up off of the bed, he smoothed out his golden clothing, giving his unruly hair the same treatment. "Well," he sighed aloud, "time to see if these morons have found my bride yet."

He stepped out into the corridor outside of his room and calmly began walking towards the bridge. His sleep-addled mind did not allow him to notice he hadn't passed a single person on his way until he was nearly at the bridge itself. It was only then that he realized there were no other noises in the ship except the sound of his footsteps and the low hum of power from the ship's every-day functions. He'd traveled enough times space, despite his dislike for it, to know that there should have been more noise than simply that. Talking. Communication tones. Other footsteps. Even the ship's hum should've been louder. It was as if the ship had been brought to a full stop in the middle of space and everyone was hiding from him. 'Well, if something -has- gone wrong, they'd damn well -better- hide!'

Moving over to a communications panel on the wall, he punched up the escape pod inventory, balking at how loud the emitted beeps were. The screen showed that all pods were present and accounted for, causing the emperor to nod a little. He hadn't really expected any to be missing, but he felt it was better to know for certain than have a little, bothersome doubt lingering in the back of his mind before he found his curiously absent crew. Instead of trusting the communications panel to tell him the whereabouts of each member of his crew, he decided to have a look for himself. Besides, what does a machine -really- know, anyway?

Dining hall: empty.

Engine room: empty.

Medical lab: empty.

Crew quarters: empty.

'Where the hell -are- they?!' The emptiness of his ship confounded him. Finally, he concluded his search at the bridge: his original intended destination and the last place he hadn't checked. The doors slid open smoothly before him, revealing the control center of the ship.

"This is insane," Lord Kakarrot mumbled aloud as he gazed around the completely empty bridge. For the first time, he realized that there wasn't the usual smell of confined bodies. Granted, the air recyclers kept any overly powerful smells out of the air, but there should have been the smell of people. There wasn't anything but a stale blankness to the air quality.

"Isn't it, though?" a disembodied voice said.

The emperor's head whipped around, his eyes seeking the source of the voice. He knew the ship was kept at a constant temperature, but there were suddenly cold, icy prickles along his skin, and the fur on his curved tail was suddenly puffed out. "Who are you? Where are you? Where is my crew?"

"You tell me," the voice replied. "Haven't you searched the ship over for your companions?"

Turning around so that he could make sure he was alone on the bridge, Lord Kakarrot stated slowly, softly, "They're not here."

"Really. How astonishing that you figured that out," the voice replied, and there was a definite edge of contempt to it. "Yes. They're gone."

"Well, where -are- they?" the emperor demanded testily, sounding a great deal like a spoilt child, crossing his arms across his chest even as his tail flicked behind him angrily.

"Floating out in that vacuum between Earth and here, I'd imagine. Of course, they've probably disintegrated beyond recognition by now."

"Who are you...?" the tailed monarch asked curiously, still trying to locate that voice. He stood in the center of the bridge, close to the command chair, but not quite within reaching distance of it.

"You know who I am." The voice sounded less disembodied then, as if the owner of the voice was suddenly on the bridge with Lord Kakarrot. "Or at least, you think you do."

At that moment, the bridge overhead lights and the lights on every console went dead, absolute darkness consuming the entire room. The monarch felt a rush of air move swiftly past him, causing him to jump a bit. Blindness truly was a detriment to him; he felt slightly dizzy and disoriented, almost unable to keep his footing. 'The gravity must be off. Or at least, must be reduced.'

"How does it feel to be trapped, Kakarrot?" the voice hissed into his ear. Taking a swipe at the direction of the voice, which had happened to be literally within an inch of his head, the saiyajin's fist came into contact with nothing but his own hair. But then on the opposite end of the bridge, the voice came again. "How does it feel to be caged with nowhere to go, and no one to help you?"

"Who -ARE- you?!" screamed the royal.

"You've already asked that question. Can't you be a bit more original?" the voice queried almost thoughtfully. The tailed saiyajin screamed in outright anger as something blazingly hot cut the back of his shins, severing muscle and tendons. "And by the way, you should know who I am by now, idiot."

"Shut up!" Lord Kakarrot cried out, tears of pain threatening to spill forth. He struggled to stand up, but found to his alarm that simply pushing upwards allowed him to float for a few minutes but not to stand. The gravity truly had been adjusted. Even as he thought that he might be able to chance throwing a counter attack, the gravity in the room suddenly increased tenfold, forcing the royal back to the ground and on his knees. As he landed, he was still trying to find his attacker in the dark but with no success. The fact that he didn't know who or what was attacking him was far more unnerving than the fact that he was actually in pain and losing. His own heartbeat was pounding in his ears, deafening him. He couldn't see. He couldn't hear. And the only smell that he could detect was his own blood... and his own fear.

"Are you scared?" And there was a curiosity to that voice, a familiar quality.

But to the fallen emperor, it sounded like mockery. Shouting in defiance, Lord Kakarrot declared with royal pride, "Never!"

"Liar, liar. Pants on fire," came the laughing response just before a blinding flash of chi illuminated the world around the saiyajin.

Lord Kakarrot screamed in pain as his tail was severed from his body. Sucking in air through clenched teeth, the saiyajin tried to get past the pain. And the humiliation. He knew that he wasn't the first of his kind to suffer through such an indignity, but it hurt, and though Lord Kakarrot enjoyed inflicting pain, he most certainly did -not- enjoy receiving it. He was the strongest fighter in the universe! But his opponent had the audacity to try and cheat against him! Even though, had the tables been reversed, he'd have done the same thing; Lord Kakarrot was more than enraged. "Go to hell."

"Isn't this it?" came the melancholy answer. And then there was even more pain lacerating the saiyajin's body, piercing his unarmored skin like rice-paper, attacks from every direction.

"Why are you doing this?!" the emperor shouted, trying to draw enough strength to become a super-saiyajin. But, to his dismay, he discovered that he couldn't concentrate enough, nor could he find the necessary power within him to do so. His mind was too centralized on the agony at the small of his back, and at the many cuts and gashes in his skin, and the bruised muscles, and the broken bones. Pain. Pain was a big distraction.

"Ooooh. A new question. I'm surprised. I didn't think you had it in you." The soft laughter that accompanied the mocking words was worse than cold steel on raw nerves for the saiyajin royal.

"I don't know who you think you are, but I'm not stupid!" The monarch continued to rage. He managed to push off the ground, onto his hands and knees, and then tried to push up so that he was standing. But there was too much damage done to his tendons and ligaments, and there wasn't anything to support him in his venture. His body fell to the ground hard, aided by the increase in gravity. Again, the tailless liege screamed in pain.

"Aw. Did the little monkey king fall down and hurt himself?" the captor chuckled mirthlessly. "Don't worry, scum. You won't have to suffer through this pain much longer. Neither of us will."

"What is the meaning of this?!" Then Lord Kakarrot registered the last bit of what his disembodied tormenter said and cried out, "What do you mean?"

"What? Did you not hear me? Or is your small mind unable to comprehend what I just said? You disgust me, you filthy mongrel." The outright scorn, the obvious venom was like a bitch-slap to the monarch, something that would not, under any circumstances, be tolerated. "You have been a pestilence on this universe. That little girl Frieza made a mistake in not obliterating you long ago. And I plan to remedy that."

The saiyajin monarch was so enraged by that insult, he couldn't form a coherent retort, so he simply screamed back, throwing a chi weak chi blast into the darkness, praying that it wouldn't penetrate the hull. Fortunately, it didn't get do more than singe the first layer of metal. Unfortunately, it didn't do any good, either.

"If you were actually worth pity -- which you are -not-, in case you were wondering -- I might almost pity you," the voice mused. The royal saiyajin heard no footsteps despite the voice moving about the room. "Your bride ran away because she couldn't stand to be married to you..."

Lord Kakarrot blinked in the darkness, verbally slapped again. His eyes narrowed into slits as he turned his head from side to side, denying the allegation. "She loves me!"

"Oh, please. Spare me your self-delusion," that curiously flat voice ordered, and the command was reinforced with a roundhouse kick that hit the burnt nub that was once a tail. "And she's the second to leave you, isn't she? Your first wife was murdered. Lucky girl."

The shattering scream of anguished pain echoed down the halls of the ship, even though the doors were closed. For a moment, the ruler thought he passed out, but the darkness in his eyes did nothing to block out the world of agony in which he presided. Gritting his teeth, he tried to challenge his attacker's preconceived notions. "I avenged her death."

"So deluded. No. You got revenge for yourself." And for the first time, there was a reprieve from the attack, allowing Lord Kakarrot to regain his breath, even as the attacker remained invisible to all his senses. There was only that voice, haunting the darkness with its own vicious abuse. "Guldo almost had it right though. Destroying your empire by destroying your womb for potential heirs. And neither of your sons will ever produce a single heir. Leading your empire to its end. Your precious, beloved empire. All gone."

"My empire! What have you done?" the monarch cried out from where he was trying to regain his footing.

A booted foot met with the royal's chin, knocking him backwards a bit. There was a snort of disgust and a light tapping before there was only that voice again, mocking him in its softness. "Nothing yet, really. But it will never flourish again. It will crumble. Fall. And be forgotten."

"My empire is the greatest that ever has been. That ever -will- be!" Lord Kakarrot exclaimed heatedly, seeing at least some light, though it was the kind of light that didn't illuminate anything tangible. It was all in his head, behind his eyelids.

"No. It isn't. And no, it won't. Prince Gohan is a moron," that mocking voice spat out, as if disgusted just mentioning the Golden Heir's name. "Powerful, true, but ignorant, blind. He will never be able to continue your line. He'll see your empire in ruins within a year."

"My son is strong..." the father tried to proclaim, but the statement was weak, and he trailed off as he tried to regain his orientation after another kick left a ringing in his ears. The ship seemed to be spinning around him in a crazy manner as he sat up off the ground. If only he could see his attacker, or get some kind of reading on him, the emperor knew he'd be able to fight back!

"But stupid. Much like his father. Now, Prince Goten, on the other hand, has the brains to make the empire what you want it to be." And there was curious pride, or at least appreciation. Then there was a sharp laugh as the attacker continued on, "But he won't."

Lord Kakarrot grunted with the kick that knocked him a good foot off the ground as it connected with his ribs. When he managed to get some air back into him, he coughed, "Goten is loyal..."

"Yes. Very loyal. But he's found peace." There was a moment of silence before the strange attacker went on in an almost thoughtful tone. "He would break your empire apart."

"He would never!" the saiyajin monarch declared, assured of his own son's loyalty from just that morning, when he had ordered the boy to marry. Had it been only that morning?

"Oh, but he would. And your empire would be no more," came the cold reply. And then there was a slight glint of red in the darkness, which was gone just as quickly as it was there. "I am here to make that a reality."

"I am the great Lord Kakarrot! Supreme ruler of the Trans-Galactic Empire! I will have your -head- for this!" the bloodied monarch cried out desperately. He was cold. He was in pain. He was losing a lot of blood. He was losing, period. This was ALL very -UNACCEPTABLE-!

"You've already stolen my -life-," growled the captor. There was a disturbance in the airflow just above where the monarch lay sprawled, but the saiyajin found his limbs too heavy to try and fight back. "What is my -head- worth added to that?"

"Your life? Are you a ghost?" There was a ringing in his ears, a dangerous tone... familiar. What was it? It sounded like the self-destruct siren, but that couldn't be. It took someone of high rank to turn on the self-destruct system on. High-ranking people were people he trusted and were far from suicidal.

"No, Kakarrot," the voice replied heavily, yet amazingly softly, as if he were telling some crying child that everything would be all right, that the light would return to chase away the monsters. "My life was stolen twice by you. Once, they created me to defeat you."

For the saiyajin monarch, realization finally dawned, just as a sharp, hot, piercing pain raced through him, stabbing him in his chest. "17..."

"And the second time was when you ordered my own sister to murder Trunks," came the whispered confirmation.

"He was nothing!" Lord Kakrrot tried to reason, tried to explain, trying to save himself. Something liquid spilt down Lord Kakarrot's cheeks, but it didn't have the sticky thickness of blood, nor the smell. With his words, blood began to pool in his mouth, and he was having trouble breathing. 'A lung must be punctured.'

"He is -everything-." Came the soft rebuttal.

The stabbing weapon was yanked from the saiyajin's chest and there was a noticed departure of his assailant. The pulling of the weapon helped the bulky ruler to struggle up to his knees, but it cost him. Suddenly, the lights of the bridge came back on, blinding Lord Kakarrot once again. He knelt on the metal floor in a growing pool of his own blood. When he was finally able to focus his eyes again, the dark orbs settled on the lithe form of 17 crouched on the back of the captain's chair, one arm bloodied up to the elbow, even as the other remained almost clean. Almost. "17," he gurgled. How? How could 17 have betrayed him?

"Kakarrot." The raven-haired android leapt from the chair to land just in front of the saiyajin's upturned face. Leaning down, 17's nose less than an inch away from the other male's, he stared coldly at the emperor. The android swept a piece of bloodied bangs out of Lord Kakarrot's eyes, tucking the hair neatly behind one ear. "I think we're done here." Reaching across his chest, 17 carefully activated the bomb still hidden within him. It was set to go off exactly at the same time that the ship's self destruct did. Then, gently, he cradled the other man's face in his hands, leaning their foreheads against each other.

The android's mind drifted for a moment. He wished that he'd said good-bye. That he'd saved Trunks. That he'd killed the saiyajin when he'd first had the chance. So many wishes...

Keeping his eyes locked onto Lord Kakarrot's, 17 whispered calmly, "Don't close your eyes. You won't want to miss this."