Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ DragonBall Zenith: How Young Hearts Bleed ❯ Back to Space ( Chapter 9 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Episode 9 - Back to Space

If you do not clearly see the words "to be continued" at the bottom of the page, then it hasn't loaded completely or properly.

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ, its characters, story line, or any likeness of the characters. My name is not Akira Toriyama. If I had enough money to be Akira Toriyama, I'd just buy the Internet. However, this story line has been created by me to be used by me and to be written by me. You know that drill. Also, I do not own Mountain Dew, though I really wish I did. I am not endorsing any brand names I use here in any way either, along with the topics of gangs, fighting, and the like. If you look carefully, you'll notice that I am strongly against those things and try to make that clear to you, the reader.

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A/N: Well, I've arrived home from my vacation in Colorado. Sorry about not updating quite as much as I originally planned. I decided to start work on "The Many Tails of Willow". Well, that and having 5 hours of Internet time per day was quite appealing... ;) Remember to review after you read. If you review, you get a cookie and a spot on the Special Thanks column of the next episode! Be truthful in your reviews. If you think my stories really suck, don't tell me it's the most awesome thing you've ever read, and vice versa. ;) Also, there's a difference between flames and constructive criticism. If you didn't like it, don't just say, "YOUR STORIES SUCK!!! I'VE READ BETTER ON THE WEIGHT STAMP OF A BOWLING BALL!!!" Not only do I cringe at the 100% usage of capital letters, but it's also not telling me what I can do to make it better. Therefore, it will never get better.

And don't be afraid to nit-pick. If you see a word I spelled wrong or a piece of grammar that could be worded better, however slightly, tell me about it, please! I don't catch everything that spell check misses! I'm not perfect! ...Yes, I know I have shattered your faith in the world with that statement, but it's true. I'm not. Thank you for your time.

Broken bodies, broken dreams.
All is lost, or so it seems...

"Off we go, into the wild blue yonder...." - Orville, from "The Rescuers"

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"Did you set her straight?" were the first words out of Tussney's mouth as the other two youths arrived back. What followed was an impromptu rambling by Trunks and Toby, and when neither seemed to agree on what happened, Tussney waved them away with an exasperated, "Don't even bother."

They followed Tobaga as she traveled back to her landing site in the back woods.

Tobaga sighed as she laid eyes on her ship. "I hate having to lug this thing around like that. I'm just glad no one vandalized it this time; normally I come back to find it all but destroyed and I need to call for a new one. Tahoto's getting really mad at me for that."

Trunks's face lit up, remembering a spare type D capsule that his mother had given him. He fingered the milky white capsule box at his side before retrieving capsule 1A and holding it out in front of him, studying its gentle curve and the slight dip where one end of the blue label overlapped the other. Breaking out of his momentary trance an instant later, he warned Tobaga and Tussney to stand back and clicked the top of the capsule, then threw it a fair distance away. With a deafeningly loud explosion and a gargantuan plume of smoke, the New Hope towered above the canopy in all its broken glory. "Wait here." He told them, then released a small amount of ki and floated in through the gigantic hole in the living area. His first stop was the main storage area.

Wires that would have supplied energy to the lighting system hung down in all of their multi-colored fury, hissing and crackling angrily, like Rice Krispies on steroids. Straining to see in the pitch-blackness of the un-lit room, Trunks sighed and formed a small ball of yellow ki in his hand, then walked forward. The inventory log capsule hadn't been secured and had been tossed somewhere within the storage room in the crash, but Trunks thought he vaguely remembered where the mid-sized spare capsule was stored. The dim light flickered as he searched for the capsule among the various towering, eerily illuminated shelves covered with millions of secured capsules, vaguely resembling the scaly hide of some gigantic, medieval, reptilian monster. He looked to and fro as he walked down the long hallways, occasionally floating up toward the top, thinking he had spotted it, but each time being disappointed as the wrong label flashed before his eyes with the introduction of ki-light. Soon enough, however, he discovered the blank labeled spare capsule lying in the midst of capsules containing various spare parts. Trunks already knew that by some terrible twist of fate, the essential parts he needed to repair the New Hope weren't among them.

Thankfully, he had gathered up the rare metal that coated the ship, (it all lay cluttered in a corner somewhere) but he would need to fix the wiring, the structural damage, the damage to the command center's connections, and much more.

Trunks decided not to worry about that yet as he took the capsule and floated down from the top of the storage shelf, the soft "tmp" of his landing echoing eerily off the metal walls and down the corridor leading out of the monstrous storage room.

"I'd better send a log to Earth." Trunks mumbled out loud to himself just to fill the depressingly silent space. "This is definitely worth logging." Trunks tossed the capsule up and caught it again, then took off flying down the corridors and to the command center, where the computer greeted him in its usual monotonous feminine tone.

"Good day, Captain." It said plainly.

"Computer, record this log and relay it to Earth." He commanded.

"I'm sorry, Captain. The logging system is beyond the severed portion of the sensors. I cannot record a log and communications with the home planet are impossible. Energy supply to the tracking device have been severed, data has a 98.567% chance of having been completely deleted, which includes all archived coordinates, voyage path-..."

"That is enough, Computer." Trunks interrupted it, quite irritated at this latest development. To be truthful, he had grown to like the almost daily routine of sending logs to Earth. Now that he would be denied such a comfort, he became quite irritable. That is, until one thought caused him to gasp. "Computer! ...Energy supply to the tracking device has been severed?"

"That is correct, captain. No signal can be sent to the Earth-based receiver. Earth's coordinates have also been erased from memory. If you wish to re-enter them manually-..."

"I don't know them." He stated quickly, suddenly sorry he hadn't paid more attention to his mother's pre-flight lectures. He sighed. "Great. Now Mom probably thinks I'm dead. Dang it, I probably gave her a heart attack or something... Arg! I'm such an idiot..." Trunks sighed again. "Computer, prepare the ship for capsulation." He ordered.

"Yes, Captain." The computer replied in its now irritatingly monotonous voice.

Trunks clutched the capsule in his hand and walked down the corridor and toward the blasted living area. Once he reached the edge of the hole, he jumped down to the grass and walked underneath the tilted ship to lift a hidden access panel and turn the lever that would store the ship back into it's capsule. He pulled it into position, then quickly got out of the way as the ship returned to its capsule with another loud explosion and large cloud of smoke. He vaguely remembered that he would have to re-charge the capsule if the emergency generators ran out of energy, but didn't worry about it.

As the smoke cleared, Trunks walked over to pick up the capsule and studied it in his hand for a few moments before Tussney's large hand came down roughly upon his shoulder. "All this time you could fly? Why didn't you tell me?" he asked angrily.

Trunks placed the larger capsule back in his box and laughed as he replied, "Well, you seemed to be keen on dragging me along... And it's harder to mask my ki while flying anyway."

Tussney seemed to be roughly satisfied, though there was still a look of thoughtful confusion on the purebred Saiyan's face.

Trunks sighed and turned his attention to Toby and her small ship. It was spherical, had one circular window in front and one padded seat inside. It was of the classic Saiyan design, small and fast, but maddeningly cramped for longer journeys. It was a sturdy, small, and nearly undetectable little ship designed for speed and stealth. Trunks noticed that Toby's ship had quite an extended command console, probably used for tracking purposes and other such things.

Trunks quickly instructed Toby on how to use the capsule and showed her how to place her ship inside because it wasn't already capsule compatible, and also demonstrated how to take it out. She stored it herself and then pocketed the capsule.

Their objective completed, the three new friends took to the air and flew toward the city at a leisurely pace.

"So, how do you plan on getting me into the gang to come along with you guys?" Toby asked.

"Not yet." Trunks replied firmly. "You're not traveling with the gang."

"What!?" She quickly flew in front of him and stopped abruptly. "What do you mean I'm 'not traveling with the gang'?"

Trunks sighed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Think about it. If Tussney is treated as badly as he is, a female Saiyan would be torn apart. You can travel in your ship, maybe wait for us at the next port."

"How will I know where that is?" Toby huffed, somewhat irked at Trunks's statement, even though she knew that it was true.

Trunks put it to thought for a few moments. "I might be able to create an encoded beacon so you can track us, I helped work on a similar project a while ago, but it will take me about an hour to build it and code it if I have the right tools, possibly 3 hours without tools and help from someone who has an easier time working with small, fragile parts."

"Speak standard?" Tussney commented.

Trunks was now confused too. "Standard? Don't you mean English?" he asked.

"What's 'English'?" Tussney asked, the confused look on his face even more pronounced now.

Trunks sighed and waved it away. "Never mind. Anyway..." He returned his attention to Toby and picked a capsule from the small white box. "I could use some of the pieces in this capsule to do it, but I'm going to need help and tools..." he held up the small capsule and stared at it as if expecting an answer to suddenly appear somewhere within the gentle, sloping curves and simple appearance.

Toby curled her tail around her waist and joined in the thinking, even though she didn't know what she was supposed to be thinking about. Tussney did too, but soon tired of it.

"Can we go eat now? I'm hungry and all this thinking is hurting my head..." he suggested.

A growl from both demi-Saiyans' stomachs provided Tussney with his answer.

"Let's go eat." Trunks concluded. They all resumed flying toward the city.

After downing sufficient food and earning stares from a motley group of alien eyes, Trunks went to work on the beacon with help from Toby. He installed the receiver in Toby's ship and placed the actual beacon behind the auxiliary battery in his watch, suddenly glad that his mother had tweaked it to run off his ki primarily. Tussney informed him that they would be searched upon returning to HQ, so Trunks retrieved the few personal items he would need and put the rest in his ship, including his sword. They bid Toby farewell and the blue-haired demi-Saiyan went her own way.

"So, what do you want to do now?" Trunks asked the taller man.

"Why don't we get the Galactic Update? I'd like to see what's going on in the universe." Tussney suggested.

"Galactic Update?" Trunks asked.

"Boy, you must be new to this corner of the universe! It's the main newspaper for the republic." Tussney laughed at his apparent clueless ness.

"Oh." was Trunks's reply.

They began to walk toward the market place, but Tussney stopped Trunks before they went very far and placed a few odd coins in his hand. "Here, you pay for it. See that guy over there?" Tussney pointed to a short, rotund, hairless alien standing behind the counter of a market stall covered in many flat electronic displays and several different colors of oddly shaped and sized disks. "His brat spit on me last time I got the paper from him. He over charged me to, but the police won't believe a Saiyan and I can't bother with the authorities anyway."

Trunks nodded. "Alright."

"Don't just get today's disk either. Riigo snapped my last display. I'll need a new one too. Just try not to pick out an overly expensive one. I don't get paid much." Tussney informed him.

Trunks nodded again and walked over to the stand, then began to look around. A little kid that resembled a smaller, thinner, larger-eyed version of the shopkeeper was running around, chasing some sort of small robot that had grasped its own ankles and was rolling around in the dirt. Trunks couldn't help but smile at the cute scene. He had always admired children for their innocence.

He turned to the stand once more and studied the various languages of displays. A few of them he thought could have been languages from his own planet while others were printed in symbols resembling hieroglyphics and still others seemed to be little more than disconnected scribble. He found a display that he recognized as his own language and lifted it from the pile, then slid it over the counter. "How much for this one in standard?" he asked the keeper.

"One hundred seventy credits." The owner replied in a thick, frog-like tone, his several extra chins jiggling as he moved a mouth that stretched around half of his face. Trunks put the money Tussney had given him on the counter and the man glared at him. "Do you expect me to accept that? You're forty credits short!"

Trunks nodded. "Do you have any cheaper displays?" he asked.

"No! And this is the cheapest they come! And don't expect me to give you a break, I have to eat too." He replied irritably.

Trunks nodded solemnly and gathered up the coins, then turned to return to Tussney, nearly stepping on the young child as he did so.

Trunks crossed the dusty street with relative ease after looking both ways and spying a large, long necked, elephant-like beast pulling a large cart of who-knew-what.

He was waving to Tussney when a guttural yell from back across the street caught his attention. He whirled around to see the newspaperman climbing clumsily over his counter, yelling toward something in the street...

The little kid! He was chasing his little robot out in the path of that gigantic animal!

As the little kid screamed, noticing that he was in danger, the animal reared and flailed its front legs.

Trunks's eyebrows furrowed. He stood straight up and clenched his fists, taking on the familiar look of a warrior. He kicked off and literally flew over to the young boy, wrapping his arms around the child's shoulders with his back to the animal as its feet came streaming down toward them. Trunks didn't move.

Tussney witnessed the whole thing. "Kahler!" he yelled, reaching one hand out toward him and wishing silently that the idiot would get out of the way in time, even though it looked impossible.

The animal's feet hit the ground, kicking up opaque dust and debris as both Tussney and the young boy's father yelled.

His attention directed toward the site of the incident, the salesman didn't notice as Trunks and the frogman's son suddenly appeared behind him.

"Daddy!" the child called for the man in a surprisingly normal little kid's voice as he ran up to the worried man.

The shopkeeper twirled around and smiled genuinely as the little boy jumped into his arms and hugged him. "Roydo! Don't you ever worry me like that again!" he scolded the boy through joyful tears.

"Sorry Daddy." The little boy apologized, almost crying, not because of the previous incident, but fearing that his father was angry with him.

"Sshhh... It's alright, I'm not angry." He held the boy out at arm's length. "I'm just happy you're safe."

The little boy grew excited. "Daddy! Daddy! That man over there, he was like, zoom! And wow!" The young boy was squirming, trying to turn around to catch a glimpse of his lavender haired savior.

Trunks stood exactly where he had ended up, watching as the two family members had their reunion. As the older man approached him while carrying his son on one shoulder, a feeling of uneasiness twisted itself around in Trunks's stomach. He just wasn't used to being thanked for the things he did.

The frogman held out one gigantic hand and shook Trunks's entire arm. "Thank you, kind sir! Thank you for saving my son!" he thanked the boy gratefully.

He let go of Trunks's arm and the demi-Saiyan nodded. "It was no problem, sir." His eyes befell the awestruck ones of the little child whose life he had just saved. He merely said to the taller man, "I can't allow a child to be harmed."

The stall owner nodded.

"I was wondering if you knew of any small tasks I could complete so that I could earn the money needed to purchase that newspaper-..." Trunks asked, but was interrupted.

The man produced the very display that Trunks wanted to purchase. "Take it, no charge. You saved my boy, and that's enough for me."

Trunks took the item tentatively, thinking it almost too sudden that the man had offered him anything, but he shrugged it off. He wasn't used to receiving any sort of outside thanks for the things he did anyway.

Ryodo's eyes twinkled as Trunks smiled and thanked his father. "Do that zoom thing again!" he begged the taller boy.

Trunks smiled and patted the boy's head. "One per customer." He told Ryodo and winked, then turned to cross the street again for himself.

"Zoom thing?" Ryodo's father asked him.

"Yeah! He just landed right by me and then zoom!..."

"Kahler, you're an idiot." Tussney told the young man once he arrived by his side.

Trunks dropped the odd coins into his waiting hand and produced the display. "Well, I got this for free."

Tussney sighed. "Whatever. Here, gimme that." Tussney quickly turned his gaze to the display after swiping it irritably from Trunks's grasp. He smirked. "Maybe I should let you shop for me more often. Maybe one of these times you'll get some sense beat through that thick skull of yours."

Trunks rolled his eyes as Tussney scrolled down the document and began to read slowly and with obvious difficulty.

"Here, let me." Trunks offered. He knew for a fact that pure Saiyans had a much less developed left side of their brains and so less talent for reading and word recognition, but Trunks's half human heritage gave him a much more balanced thinking pattern and thus he was able to read better. Tussney grudgingly handed the display over to him. "Alright... There's been a robbery of the First Galactic Republican bank on Ker..."

"Kerachyk, it's a planet in the Gaza solar system on the edge of the frontier. I'm surprised the Republic bothered putting a bank out there with how difficult it's been for them to keep control." Tussney told the shorter man. "Turn to section three. Let's see how the Felion-Coldfinger war is going."

"Felion? Coldfinger?" Trunks asked.

Tussney rolled his eyes. "Geez, new kid! Have you been in some secluded corner of the universe all this time? The Felions are a race of cat warriors, about half as strong as the average Saiyan."

"...And that would be...?"

"A standard power level of about 50,000 right now. I've heard rumors of several Saiyans other than the great Kakkarot that have reached the multiple millions, on the same planet too, but those aren't factored in."

Trunks smiled at the irony. He was one of those Saiyans, and currently the last and the best of them too. Unfortunately for him, he wouldn't be able to transform into a Super Saiyan or any higher levels thereof and still keep his identity secret. For what Tussney had told him before, every little kid in the galaxy grew up with legends of the great Kakkarot and the terrible first Super Saiyan. Tussney was still explaining Trunks's previous question, so the latter tuned back in.

"...And the Coldfingers are the Silverarm's greatest rivals. We're going to the Felion's planet next anyway to snipe at the Coldfingers, eventually take over the Felions for ourselves. Coldfingers may be bad, but Silverarms are ruthless." Tussney told him.

"I overheard that you've tried to escape before; is that why?" Trunks asked.

Tussney sighed. "Yeah. I can't stand this place! At the least, I want my freedom, not lifting boxes and scrubbing walls and getting beat up all day. I even know where I'd go."

"Where?"

"The New Saiyan Alliance, but just to live there. Conquering planets isn't my style."

"Mine either." Trunks sighed, his cover slipping from his mind for a moment.

"Huh?" Tussney asked, giving him a confused look as what his comrade had said failed to completely add up in his mind.

"Uh... I mean, I wouldn't go conquering planets if I had a say in it." Trunks attempted to save himself. "Not like I'd really ever have to, but I'm just saying..."

"You're really strange, Kahler. You know that?" Tussney informed the young man. He really knew how to state the obvious...

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They arrived back at HQ a few minutes before 18:00 hours to avoid the crowd of other space gangsters trying to get back at the last possible minute. The first thing they went through was a search. The warty, obese, 8-tentacled being that searched Trunks was confused about his capsule box, but Trunks just told him that they contained his medicine. To prove his point, he took out the one containing Tylenol and a bottle of lemon juice and honey. (1) Fortunately, that satisfied the exhausted alien sufficiently and both young men passed.

Sterilization was next. The gangsters were otherwise uncaring when it came to personal hygiene, but they didn't want any terrestrial diseases finding their way on board and causing an epidemic.

They were handed oxygen masks as they walked into the small, whitewashed room and instructed to put them on immediately.

"Don't trust these masks completely, Kahler. They aren't 100% effective. Hold your breath." Tussney advised the newbie.

Trunks shrugged and humored Tussney as an ashen gray gas began to seep through the walls.

"Close your eyes unless you want them to burn for a week." Tussney told him. Trunks, not feeling like finding out what that would feel like, decided to humor him on this as well.

The instant the gray gas made contact with his skin, Trunks felt every ounce of moisture being lifted from it and subconsciously cringed back. His skin began to feel like a sun-baked Sahara river's bottom as he occasionally squirmed, wishing it was over. He lifted one chapped hand to his normally silky soft hair and discovered it clumpy and crusty, then recoiled back and gasped as he felt even the moisture beneath his clothing being absorbed, then immediately wished he hadn't. His throat felt like it was on fire and tried to make him cough, but he curbed it and silently choked.

Thankfully, a moment later, sprinklers turned on and soaked the gas away, then drenched the two also. Trunks licked his lips as he opened his eyes to see Tussney taking off his oxygen mask and washing his face with the water. Trunks removed his mask also and ran his fingers through his now soaking lavender hair.

"Wash up, this is the only shower you're going to be getting for a long time." Tussney warned him as he began to scrub his hair.

Trunks only gathered a handful of water and splashed his face before the water shut off and the airlock to the rest of the ship opened. Trunks followed the taller man through and held his arms out for protection as he shook the water off like a dog before glaring at the tiny, green, lanky alien that was handing out towels which looked to be far too previously used to be of any use to them and far too big for the tiny alien to be holding. The tiny alien shrieked and cowered back. Trunks lifted an eyebrow at Tussney.

"That's Wazle; he's a little spy. If you don't intimidate him, he'll follow you around and report everything you do to Lasiehr." He growled at the small alien and it went scampering away. "Plus he's the one that spoiled my escape attempt. I've got what you would call a 'special grudge' against him."

Trunks shrugged his dripping shoulders and eyed the rotten-looking, raunchy towels.

"Don't use them. They probably haven't been sterilized since their last use. You're better off shaking off the water. Here, I'll teach you how-..." Tussney offered while looking away, but stopped abruptly upon returning his gaze to Trunks.

He was already shaking off the water.

Tussney laughed. "Looks like you have things under control."

Trunks laughed too.

They traversed the low corridors to their room, Tussney having to duck under every support beam, but Trunks not having a problem. Both of them laughed at this as they reached the oval, steel door to their room and Tussney ducked in.

They wanted to get their shared room fixed up before liftoff. Trunks had no problem. He hung the handle of his tiny capsule box on the one hook he could find in their tiny shared closet, moving only minimal amounts of Tussney's junk to do so. Tussney shoved the thin electronic display they got earlier in on the side, then closed the closet door loosely to work around it. Trunks taped his favorite picture to the ceiling above his bunk, the one with the entire Z gang in it and himself as a baby. Trunks laughed out loud as his eyes fell upon his father's less-than-cooperative figure.

"What's so funny?" Tussney asked, wanting in on the private joke.

"Nothing." Trunks assured him, still smiling. "I'm done, how about you?"

"I'll take a minute or two yet, I want to organize some of my junk. Why don't you stand outside the room? It's a bit cramped in here with the two of us, even though you're such a shrimp." Tussney joked.

"Ha ha. Very funny." Trunks rolled his eyes as he stepped out and shut the door.

Tussney sorted through his junk rather quickly, but curiosity got the better of him as he spied the picture Trunks had taped to the ceiling. As carefully as he could, the 8-foot-tall Saiyan climbed up to look at it.

It was a get-together of some sort as far as he could tell, with family and friends alike, it seemed. There was no way the three-eyed alien in the picture could be related to anyone else there. Sure enough, there was the infantile lavender-haired wonder boy in the arms of a blue-haired woman, presumably his mother. Around them stood many people, including a rarely-seen Namek, a 3-eyed alien which he vaguely recognized from the flashback section of the Galactic Update as the "legendary" bounty hunter Tien, a few of the species he recognized as "human" but couldn't quite remember what planet they were supposed to be from, and several Saiyans of various sizes and dispositions. There was one young one, approximately 7 years younger than Tussney himself, that he figured had probably been Trunks's half-Saiyan trainer, one overly happy one that he believed to be around age 28, and one short, particularly foul-tempered one.

Tussney took a closer look at the last, shorter Saiyan. Trunks's mother was holding him in place and his face seemed oddly familiar, something Tussney's father had shown him long ago in a history lesson...

Tussney peered closer, trying to remember...

Trunks knocked on the door. "Hey, Tussney! Are you almost done in there?"

Distracted momentarily by the newbie, Tussney lost his grip and fell backward, striking his head on the door of their closet. "Shit!" he yelled and rubbed the back of his head.

Trunks walked in quickly, only to find him on the floor. "Tussney? Are you alright?"

Tussney rolled his eyes and replied sarcastically, "Oh, just peachy! I only hit my head on a steel door after falling four feet, but other than that, it's a bright, shining, fucking glorious day!"

Trunks laughed nervously. "Heh, darn. Don't you hate it when that happens?"

Tussney slowly got up and smirked. "Hah, you don't swear, do you?"

Trunks gave him a serious look, trying to look intimidating. He failed badly. "No, I don't. Do you have a problem with that?"

Tussney stood up straight, easily doubling Trunks's height. "You're little and a softie! These guys are going to eat you alive!" he continued chuckling.

"I'd like to see them try." Trunks mumbled irritably.

"Whatever, tough guy." Tussney kept laughing.

"Liftoff in one minute." A voice came over the PA.

"I'd get situated in your bed if I were you." Trunks advised his comrade.

"Here, let me help you! Ass, shit, fuck, damn..."

"Liftoff in thirty seconds."

"Tussney, I'm serious." Trunks urged him.

"Repeat after me! Whore, fuck, shit, jackass..."

"Liftoff in 10 seconds. 9... 8..."

"Tussney!"

"...6... 5..."

"Ha, ha, ha!"

"...3... 2..."

"Tussney!"

"Liftoff."

The force of the acceleration knocked Tussney over and caused him to smash into the wall. Trunks stayed exactly where he was, though he had to exert a small amount of ki to do so.

A few seconds later, they left the planet's gravitational field and were released into the weightlessness of space.

"Ow..." Tussney rubbed his head where it hit the wall, then sighed. "The liftoff gets me every time..."

Trunks had his arms and legs crossed and was floating in the air, eyes closed and not amused.

"Say, how'd you stay put like that? That had to be at least a 10 g liftoff!"

"10 g?" Trunks repeated in a thoroughly unimpressed tone, but soon realized his mistake. "Oh, 10 g! Yeah, sorry, I, erm, thought you said 1 g..." Trunks stuttered.

Tussney sighed. "Whatever, Kahler. They'll be turning on the gravity soon, and then it's time for your first day of work." Tussney informed him.

"Turning on the gravity?" Trunks repeated.

"Yeah." Tussney replied as he floated lazily past the confused teen. "Weightlessness can take a toll on the muscle tone, so we have artificial gravity. It's 0.1 g in most areas of the ship; I don't really understand why they do that. Most planets are like Vegetasei was and have 1 g, but it's just a few where the residents can't handle more than 0.1 g on a normal daily basis..."

"What does he mean? I thought Vegetasei was 10 g... Oh. Different scale..." Trunks thought, almost hitting himself for the obviousness of the conclusion.

Just then, the gravity switched on and Tussney fell to the floor with an "Oof!" He groaned and stood up, then smoothed out his pants, not failing to notice that Trunks had landed on his feet with ease. Tussney pushed the thought to the back of his mind as he walked over to the steel door and grasped the smooth, cool metallic handle. "Well, let's get going, Kahler."

"Right behind you..." Trunks sighed and mumbled dejectedly, not exactly looking forward to lending his strength to the gang's cause, but escape would be suicidal at this point...

To be continued...

**Dragon ball ending theme begins to play**

Mirai Trunks: My turn to do the wrap-up.

**Various clips of Mirai and Tussney scrubbing walls, and... Scrubbing waste disposal areas, and cleaning other things up. Oh, and some gang members taunting him and getting him really POed, but other than that... He's cleaning stuff.**

Mirai Trunks: Uhg. Janitorial work. Well, be sure to tune in next time, same time, and same place. DBZ: HYHB: Episode 10, Work, Work, and Space Bullies! I'm sure SW has something special lined up for this one...

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STORY BY:
Silent Willow

TYPING BY:
Silent Willow

HTML CODING BY:
Silent Willow

HOSTING BY:
Fanfiction.net
Freeservers.com
And now... MediaMiner.org!

ACTORS:
Trunks Briefs: Trunks Briefs
Tussney: 17-year-old Radditz
Lasiehr: Morten
Riigo: Fat Bastard and a lot of makeup
Tobaga: ROSELYNE MARROT and lessons on how not to have a French accent when playing a character that doesn't have a French accent...
Various Aliens: Random people off the street

SPECIAL THANKS TO:
The number 24 (24 hours in a day, 24 cans in a big pack of Mountain Dew. Coincidence?)
Zamba (Because I say so.)
Ember (For being the first person to review this story!)
Rya, AKA: Riptor Velochi (Um... Because I say so?)
Mountain Dew (Without which, I wouldn't be able to survive.)
Kool-Aid Jammers
Vanilla Coke (Reward your curiosity! Mine needed all the rewarding it could get...)
My Uncle Karl (For letting me use his laptop while we drove for two days straight from Denver to eastern Wisconsin, and not getting annoyed with me!)
TheChinese_Chinkster (Because he's really cool. What? Do I need another reason?)
MediaMiner.org Forums (Because I love the RP section!)

And finally, readers like you!

(1) Lemon juice and honey is like a tranquilizer shot to Saiyans. Not even Bulma has figured out why yet, but the unique combination is potent enough to knock out even the strongest Saiyan in an instant, even when only a few drops are ingested. Trunks uses it to get to sleep at times when he normally cannot and he always keeps some on hand in case of emergencies.

And one thing I forgot... Ember and Storm_410 each get a cookie! *^_^* I hope you like chocolate chip! :D