Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Tycho ❯ Chapter 4 ( Chapter 4 )

8
Earth, Sol System
11.2.43
1500 Hours

He was pretty sure he was flying somewhere over Africa now, because he had been flying over a desert for quite some time. He wasn't really paying attention to where he was heading; he just let his body take control. It was dark. He was lost in his thoughts most of the time while crossing the Atlantic when something caught his eye. It was the Statue of Liberty.

A flood of emotions ran through him when he caught sight of the green statue. He had seen it before in a few pictures, but it was completely different looking at it in person. This edifice stood for all that was just and right. He remembered the inscription on the pedestal on which it stood:

"Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame, With conquering limbs astride from land to land; Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame. "Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

At one point, the Coalition stood for all of that. Now it was being destroyed piece by piece.

He floated above the statue for quite a while, knowing that this would probably be the only time he would ever get to see it. After a few minutes he looked past it and onto the city she stood in front of. New York City, perhaps the greatest city ever constructed, with perhaps the exception of ancient Rome. Its twinkling lights pierced the darkness, illuminating the skyscrapers against the thickening blackness.

He noticed that the city hadn't changed all that much in its long and colored history. The layout was the same, although technology had changed the buildings from simple apartments to massive skyscrapers. He flew over Times Square, not caring if anyone noticed him. After all, he'd be gone in a few hours. He then proceeded to fly over the residential districts and landed in a small park outside the Bronx.

Feeling in the mood for a stroll, he wandered about the area, feeling content to move about aimlessly. This led him into a rather poor and run-down part of the city, and what few seedy looking characters took notice of him left him to his business. He stood out terribly, dressed in his solid white uniform. That made him either a fool or a bad ass.

He rounded a corner on a quiet street and made out what sounded like a stifled cry. It was barely audible and it took some concentration on his part to determine its location. It seemed to be emanating from the alley to his two o'clock. As he entered the alley he saw a young girl, no more than fifteen, curled into a ball on the ground. Above her stood a large black man, holding some sort of blunt instrument.

Crimes of this nature were rare in the Coalition, with the law being extremely unforgiving, but he recognized brutality when he saw it. Sabre narrowed his eyes and approached the man.

With his back turned the man had no idea anyone approaching him. He wordlessly raised the weapon to strike the girl again when an iron vice grabbed his hand. Then he heard a series of snaps. Before brain could register the pain, his hand and forearm had been broken in fourteen different places. Sabre then threw the man out onto the street in, all in one fluid motion. The thug tumbled and rolled to a stop some distance away.

Sabre returned his attention to the girl. She was still curled into a ball, still softly crying, oblivious to his intervention. He kneeled down next to her.

There was no need to ask if she was okay. Her left eye was swollen shut and tears ran freely down the sides of her face. She was bleeding from the corners of her mouth, nose, and from a deep gash on her forehead. Her shoulder-length blonde hair was matted with blood and dirt. It looked like her nose and right cheek bone were broken as well. Some teeth were knocked out of alignment too. The fact that she was even conscious surprised him. She was tougher than her frail appearance belied.

"Who..." she cough up some blood. "Who... who are y-y-you?

"Shhh. Relax, I'm here to help. Don't move, I'm a doctor," Sabre methodically assured the terrified girl. It was technically true; he'd had plenty of triage experience in the field.

"It...hu-" She coughed more blood, "It... hurts..."

There was no way this girl would survive much longer, even if he got her to a hospital. Long ago he was taught to recognize the difference between the ones that could be saved and the ones that had to be let go. Under normal circumstances she would fall into the latter category, especially since she was a non-Coalition citizen on a planet the Coalition had yet to make formal contact with, while the Coalition was at war with a superior alien race. But this situation was not normal. There was no justification to let this girl die in an alley. He reached into his breast pocket and took out one of the few remaining pills, putting it in her mouth.

She swallowed and her wounds healed almost instantly.

The girl slipped into a state of shock. She had just been beaten to within an inch of her life, and suddenly she felt fine. She looked up to see a young man standing in front of her, dressed rather strangely for the city. She immediately got to her feet and backed against the alley wall. She was panicking.

"Who are you? Did Danny send you? Please...Please don't hurt me... not again...I'm sorry...I won't...I won't...Just don't hurt me." She broke down into tears.

Well, that'd been unexpected. She must've thought he was the guy that did this to her. It was understandable; it's not like this was the first time misdirected fear had been placed upon him.

"Please," said Sabre, "calm down. I'm not here to hurt you."

"Who are you? I've never seen you before. Danny sent you, didn't he... please…"

"No, I don't know Danny. I'm not going to hurt you."

She turned and bolted out of the alley. Obviously, she didn't believe him, but it didn't matter, she was safe now. He was about to take to the sky when something compelled him to take one last look at her. Sabre stepped out of the alley and saw the girl had stopped not too far away.

She was frozen in terror. He saw the cause: a large group of young men were coming down the block.

One of them called out to her. "Hey, bitch, what you doing back on the street? I thought Jamal was taking care of you."

The girl remained still, petrified. As the men closed in Sabre moved in front of her. A dark part of him opened up. He could have easily grabbed her and flew on, but the burning urge to crush these thugs was too great. No one else would ever know what happened here.

"Who the hell are you? Where is Jamal" the apparent leader of the group-a short, stocky, mean looking thug-said. He looked past Sabre and saw his friend lying in the street, motionless. It was the last thing he saw. Sabre fluidly moved through the group of men, striking each one of them with a closed fist. When it was over, eight corpses lay in the street. He felt no triumph, he felt no sense of justice. Just cold. Their lives meant nothing to him. Something deep within him told him this was not right. He returned his attention to the girl.

She was silent for what seemed like an eternity, her hair fluttering gently in the cool city breeze, mouth agape.

"What did- Why did-? How-? Who are you?" she stammered.

"I'm just a man."

"No, men don't do things like that. Men can't move that fast. I just blinked, and they were all dead. What the hell are you?" Sabre said nothing and turned to leave.

"Who are you? Don't just walk away from me! Please, please don't leave me!" She grabbed his arm and looked into his eyes.

He recognized that look. He had seen it on a dozen worlds, people desperate for an answer, for a way out. Long ago he hardened himself against it. He saved her life. He wanted nothing more to do with this wretched soul. Sabre pulled away from her grip and was about bolt into the sky when she touched his mind. It was very gentle, but searching, looking for something to hold on to. Something to make him stay. It worked.

He turned and looked into her eyes, which were much different, no longer filled with despair. They were strangely moving.

"Do you know what you're doing?" he asked.

"No. I--. I didn't do anything. Please, just don't go."

"I think you do know. I think that is what got you in trouble with those men." Her eyes darted briefly to the bodies strewn in the street. "Do you know any others like yourself? Have you met anyone else like you?"

She shook her head.

He remembered that telepathy had yet to surface to any meaningful degree on Earth.

"Can-can I come with you? Please, I'll do anything, just get me out of the city. You're going out of the city, right? I'll do whatever you want." She stepped forward, placing her hands on his chest. He could feel her presence in his mind again.

"Don't do that," Sabre said icily. The girl quickly retracted her hands and averted her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I just don't know what to do. I jus-" he cut her off.

"You're right. You don't belong here." Her countenance filled with hopefulness. "But I am giving you a choice, because you are not like the others here, and your abilities will only get you into more trouble than you already are. I am warning you, where I am going, you may be even less safe than you are here. But you will no longer be alone. That is all I will say."

"Look," her voice filled with a resolve he did not expect, "I don't care who you are or where you are going, as long as it is away from here. My life is a fucking wreck. I don't have anything left. My parents died when I was a kid, and I've been on my own ever since. Those guys you took care of were only a handful of the ones that are after me, because I've fucked up real bad, and I'm in real trouble. I know, it's another fucking hardknock story, but I don't want to have my life end in the gutter where I was born. So please, save your warnings and just get me out of here."

So, she had a strong will after all. As he should have known, appearances can be deceiving.

"Fine. But you have no idea what you are getting yourself into." Sabre stepped forward and encircled her with one arm. She tensed at first, until she realized they were lifting off the ground. Her eyes grew as wide as tennis balls.

"Who are you?" she asked a second time.

"I'm a soldier. A soldier in an army in a war you know nothing about. This is just the first of many surprises for you."

"Goddamn," was all she had to say. They both looked down at the city expanding beneath them. He began to accelerate forward, keeping a tight grip on the small girl he held in his arms. He slowly built up speed until the wind became a hindrance.

"I'm cold!" she said above roaring wind.

In response he flared his ki, shielding him and the girl from the airflow. This allowed him to go faster, and he accelerated again. After a few second there was a loud boom.

He could tell she wondered what it was, but she said nothing.

"Sonic boom," he informed her.

She didn't understand until she looked down and saw the city fading behind her and the ground flying blurring beneath her.

He kept accelerating until he hit about mach 5, not feeling the need to raise his power level any higher. He would reach the Lookout in plenty of time at this speed. He increased his angle of ascent, leaving the ground far behind.

The girl had many questions, but one seemed to press her more than the rest. It also seemed the most relevant.

"What's your name?"

The man in white was silent for some time. She thought he wasn't going to give an answer when he at last replied.

"Jake. You can call me Jake."

"Well, Jake, flying man, my name is Eve. And this is fucking insane."

They were silent for the rest of the flight, each deep in thought. Far below a fisherman in a small boat stepped out of his cabin and into the evening air. He looked up to see a white streak arcing in the sky. Figuring it to be a shooting star, he made a wish.