Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Second Chances for Love ❯ Out of the Silence ( Chapter 5 )

Second Chances For Love

By Trynia Merin

Summary: What if instead of going to the past with the Time Machine, Future Trunks instead used a spaceship to go to New Namek?  And when he arrives, will they even know who he is, and be willing to help?

Author Notes: This story was written for the contest at Boxer and Rice. It was written with ideas given to me by Truhania, to whom I owe many thanks for getting me started on this!

Chapter 5 Out of the Silence

Through the mint green skies a white trailed comet streaked. Ever closer it grew in size, watched carefully by the assembled group of Namekians. Among them members of the warrior cast stood in waiting, their puffy collars around their necks denoting their rank, while their chests were left bare. Elders and healers stood well behind them, their rust colored robes trailing the ground. The wrinkled face of the new eldest Namek shaded his eyes with one hand and motioned for them to all be ready.

Near him, a younger Namekian strode up, excitedly blinking at the shape of the ship. It seemed strangely familiar to him, reading ciphers on the side of the descending sphere that was not a pod, but something that had black and white markings. Smoke and steam misted from its surface as it slowed and belched fire from its lower circle. Then it slowed, blasting aside concentric rings of flattened vegetation before the prong landing gear touched spider thin legs into the Namekian soil. Like a four-legged insect it perched, the rounded bulk obscuring the distant mountains. Tense eyes struggled to read the semi familiar lettering of a world long out of touch.

“It says Capsule… 4,” the younger aid to Muuri pointed excitedly.

“I haven't heard that word in years. If he hadn't said the name Gohan I wouldn't have even permitted him to come this far,” Muuri mumbled. “I hope you're right about this, Dende.”

“Gohan dead? It's too horrible to conceive,” whispered Dende with a sad shake of his head. Antenna bobbed tensely when the wheezing groan of the landing ramp broke the silence. All in unison the Namek heads swiveled to track the descent of a strange blue and white armored figure quickly trotting down the ramp. White boots tipped in gold toecaps touched the spongy vegetation, and a pair of sapphire blue eyes regarded the dark ones of Dende.

“His eyes look just like Bulma's,” Dende whispered, cupping his hand to the side of his mouth.

“Indeed,” Muuri nodded. Leaning on his staff, he drew himself up to his full height, staying behind the blocking bodies of two baggy panted warriors.

Clearing his throat the stranger uttered words in Namekian just as he had over the radio link. Slowly the namekians nodded to one another and waited for Muuri's acknowledgement. Not much taller then Dende the Chikyuujin gave a low bow and stood still.

“You know our language and speak it well,” Muuri called from behind the wall of his two strongest warriors. “But what further words have you of your good will?”

“Only the greetings of my world, or what remains of it,” Trunks said somberly, lifting his torso out of the bow. “And the misery of losing someone we both care for. Gohan… is dead. All the people you knew who once fought to save Namek are gone. I'm the only warrior left…”

“Dead… Gohan dead? Then it's true?” Dende breathed deeply, squeezing his eyes shut.

“You have the eyes of your parent Bulma, Trunks Briefs. You may approach, but beware that we don't let the dragon balls be used for a frivolous purpose. Much has happened in the silence since Piccolo and Kami have lost touch. We presumed that some terrible tragedy had befallen your world. So you must understand why we are on our guard…” Muuri explained, still partly obscured.

“Please, he must be telling the truth,” Dende whispered back. Before Muuri could catch hold of his sleeve, the young Namekian rushed forwards. Only the sideways step of a Warrior Namekian blocked him.

“Stay there, Dende,” Cargo hissed. “The Elder hasn't given you leave to pass.”

“Tell us why Earth has gone silent, Trunks Briefs. There is much we don't know before we can trust your words fully,” said Muuri.

“Please, I've travelled so far! I implore you I need the Dragon balls. The longer we wait, the longer Gohan has less of a chance of coming back! I know that if a person is dead more then a year the Dragon Balls won't work!” Trunks said, his voice rising in pitch. Knees twitched under the spandex, but the sharp looks of the warrior nameks bade him freeze in place.

“What happened to Gohan, Goku and the others who helped save our people, Trunks Briefs?” Muuri demanded dark eyes boring into Trunks.

“Two androids… they're monsters… they've killed almost every human they've come across. Gohan was the last to fall… saving my life. All those before him died in the first fight… and only Gohan was able to survive. It all happened only months after I was born. For fifteen years, I have been struggling to survive. For fifteen years, my planet has been under a holocaust of those monsters. There's no way to stop them…”

“What of Piccolo? Did he perish in the attack? Otherwise why would he be here, Elder Muuri! His story sounds true. Why do we wait?” Dende pleaded. “Please… what happened to Goku? Is he dead as well?”

“He died from a virus before the androids even emerged,” Trunks half growled. “We're wasting valuable time! You must believe me! For Gohan's sake… please!”

Tentatively Dende laid his hand on the arm of Cargo. “Please let me go to him… he sounds like he's in terrible pain. Gohan must mean as much to him as he did to…”

“Your words are urgent, but we must have time to decide the truth of them,” Muuri shook his head.

“Muuri please, he sounds sincere. Can't you see or feel the pain from him? Most of us are healers and can tell when our services are needed… and that includes psychic as well as physical trauma,” Dende explained, turning his head slightly to face his elder.

“I'll do whatever you ask,” Trunks whispered, hanging his head. “Gohan means everything to me. Whatever it takes. I know there's probably some sort of trial I have to face. However, I will face it gladly. Just give me a chance!”

Muuri tentatively nodded to Cargo and Nauta, who both stepped sideways. Still they kept a close watch as Dende marched up to the quaking figure in gleaming white armor and spandex. Reaching out his hand, he touched Trunks shoulder. A second later, he recoiled as if burned.

“His pain is very deep,” Dende whispered. “It's so fresh and so horrible, Elder.”

“I see,” Muuri murmured, and then exchanged glances with the other Nameks assembled. They strode forwards, still flanked by their guards to stand within only a half meter of Trunks. Soothing violet energies pulsed from Dende's fingertips, barely touching Trunks through the pores of his suit. Although it did little to ease the aching hole in his soul, it did bring some calmness to prevent his anger from exploding in frustration.

“Your energy is very strong,” Dende nodded.

“Far more powerful then anything we've sensed, except for Goku when he fought Freeza on our old world. These Androids must be truly terrifying if you don't have the power to stop them, Trunks Briefs,” Muuri sighed, his palm flattened and facing Trunks.

“It like I said. Most of the world is dying. My mom was building a time machine to try to send me back to stop this from happening, but I decided to take a chance and come to Namek. It's too late to revive the other warriors, but I had hoped I could bring Gohan back… to give us a fighting chance,” whispered Trunks.

“I see,” Muuri nodded. “You sound sincere. Very well, we will honor your request for the sake of those who saved us. Nevertheless, it is our fear that you may return to a world desolated and dead. Your world's guardian must also have died long ago to let such things get out of balance. One warrior alone can't bring your planet out of the brink of extinction.”

“Gohan and I can handle the androids together. That's why I need the Dragon Balls now,” Trunks said. “What do I have to do to prove myself? Some sort of trial? Would I be allowed to use my Dragon radar to find them?”

He pulled the flat object out from under his armor, to the surprise of the Namekains. Various spheres pinged lightly and urgently on its round gridded screen. Trunks held it on the palm of one gloved hand towards Muuri and Dende.

“Not so fast,” Muuri's antenna twitched.

“What?” Trunks asked, biting his lip in frustration.

“Your world lacks a guardian. A difficult decision must be made,” The elder continued, leaning on his tall staff.

“He means that if Piccolo is gone, then Kami is. One of us should go back with you to Chikyuu and become its guardian,” Dende said.

“I can't ask you to risk anything else,” Trunks shook his head. “I only came to use the dragon balls to bring Gohan back.”

In response to this, Muri's frown melted into a smile. “I see you are indeed worthy. You think even now of the welfare of those you seek help from. “

“Thank you,” Trunks nodded, only a slight smile twitching the corner of his lip.

“Dende, Cargo, go with Trunks Briefs and collect the Dragon Balls. We will let him make his wish. However, your world lacks a guardian. And a difficult decision must be made,” Muuri reflected.

***

Tension released itself like a snapping rubber band, unknotting Trunks gut so he could breathe again. Months of stagnation despite training left him restless and anxious for moving further then the limited radius of the ship. He felt giddy and lightheaded as he rose gracefully into the air after Cargo and the young Dende. Fate smiled upon him to encounter the very childhood friend of Gohan. Another link to the past brought the reality of reunion ever closer. Even if Gohan DID come back, would he be enough to help Trunks rid their world of the Android menace.

Muuri had sewed doubtful seeds with his speech hours ago. Even as Trunks led the way with the pings of his Dragon Radar, he wondered what good only two warriors who could never tire. Flesh and blood had its limitations, even when it comprised that of Half Saiyan. Two members of the same `tribe' could do anything, but was that just the arrogance of youth talking?

What amazed him at first was the sheer size of the spheres as they retrieved each other. There were only so many each could carry at one time, looping their arms around the volleyball sized objects that drove the breath from Trunks mouth. When they found the very first, the five-star-ball, he could hardly work up the nerve to place his white gloved hand on it. Such trepidation rapidly vanished in the urgency of their mission. He saw two hours later why Muuri had sent two others with him, not only to help face whatever small travails or creatures, but also to help him carry the orbs from place to place. Still they were surprised when he pulled out a small storage capsule and used it to contain their balls already collected.

He could not help think how fiendishly easy this all seemed after years of hiding from imminent danger. Was the quest a dream from which he would awake, trembling in the prison of sweat soaked sheets next to Gohan's warm body? Or worse yet would he thrust aside the blankets tangling his legs only to pat an empty space next to him that he grew used to being occupied by his lover? Ever since they had started training on that island and shared a first kiss, the two were rarely apart from each other. Like a lifeline, he had cleaved to Gohan, and in turn learned how he had saved the elder Saiyan's life.

Two of a kind that understood each other, Trunks reasoned, wading hip deep into a shallow lake to collect the sixth dragon ball. Easily he bent at the waist and grabbed hold of the slick surface. Only to feel a pinch on one finger. Cursing he shook aside the small-clawed creature resembling a crab on earth. It plopped beneath the undulating green surface, further startling Trunks from his reverie. Once he pulled the dripping wet ball with waterweeds clinging to it, he levitated easily out of the water towards his two companions. Dende's face shone with a smile as broad as his own did, Trunks reasoned.

“That makes six. One more and we're almost done,” Trunks gave the thumbs up, tucking the four-star-ball under one arm. He stopped to glance down at it and remember what Gohan had said about the earth-sized version that had set fate in motion a lifetime ago. Cargo grunted and Dende himself held the dragon Radar so Trunks could click the button on his Dragon Ball capsule and add the newest sphere to their growing collection.

A half hour's flight later brought them back to the tall tower where Muuri lived. Trunks shook his head with the irony as he strode inside, dragon radar in hand and saw what sat at the Namek's feet. The One star ball gleamed in the light of the namekian sun that never set. Just like their original home world, there was no night on New Namek. Only an eternal soupy green intensity that reminded Trunks of pea soup. Not the fog, but the pasty porridge his mom sometimes cooked from their stock of rations. Gohan had once claimed it could double as wallpaper paste, and Trunks promptly had tried out the theory to Bulma's consternation. It took the better part of a morning and hard work for Trunks to wipe the green stains off the kitchen wall.

“Why am I not surprised,” Trunks mumbled, rolling his eyes at Dende, who stood to his left. The namekian companion only gave him an enigmatic smile.

“I guess you figured it out,” Dende replied.

“And this whole thing was a part of the test. You knew where they were all the time, but I guessed I'd be the one to go get them,” Trunks sighed, clicking the dragon radar off. Muuri stood up from his chair and one of his attendants picked the ball up from the floor holding it in his clawed, t here fingered hands.

“Now you may make your wish. However, reconsider if it is the action that you truly wish to take. Only one person can be brought back to life. In addition, there are three wishes. Even if you do bring back the dead, their souls will return to the place where they died.”

“You mean that he won't come back here?” asked Trunks, fingering the capsule.

“No. His soul will return to the last place he passed away,” said Muuri as Trunks gritted his teeth.

“Damn, all this way for nothing,” Trunks muttered. Then a second later, his head snapped up. “Would I be able to use a wish to return home to Earth?”

“If that is your desire,” Muuri said. “And there is one more.”

“Better get started then,” Trunks agreed. Nodding to one another, they exited the chamber and emerged on the plateau for their next task.