Rewriting material is difficult, but necessary. I received comments about the original Time Warriors indicating that many things weren't clear - hopefully, this will answer those questions!
This is a sequel to Not As Stupid As They Look, the story that introduced the Guardian race, their involvement with the Saiyans and how they influenced Freeza to take Vejiita with him even after he decided to destroy the Saiyans utterly. Time Warriors takes place 35 years *after* the destruction of Vejiitasei, and continues with the survivors of both the Guardian and Saiyan races.
Additionally, this story is a crossover between DragonballZ, the British TV series Dr. Who, and a series of books written by Julian May called *The Saga of the Pliocene Exile.* I do not own the rights to any of the DBZ or Dr Who characters; my original characters are my own, but use ideas from each series; and I make exactly nothing from this.
Please, enjoy! - and as always, comments are greatly appreciated.
********************
Time Warriors Chapter 1
************
Prologue
************
He had ruined her.
Some people had their health ruined; Olean was one. She was frail to being with, and the stresses brought on by her unwitting link to Freeza during the death throes of Vejiitasei were almost too much for her body and psyche to bear. The redactors on Homeland had worked tirelessly for years to rid Olean of the psychic aftershocks and flashbacks she suffered; they were not entirely successful, but they did as much as they could. She remained thin and frail and silent, almost as if her memories were eating at her from the inside. The despot had given her a parting gift, it seemed; his unintentional violation had opened a new channel in her mind, and now Olean caught furtive glimpses of many futures. Eyes wide, she often stared at nothing the others could see, muscles in her jaw clenching and unclenching, her fingers tightly locked together in her lap.
Some people were hit hard, both physically and mentally, but had the resilience, courage and sheer stubbornness to help them pull through. Both Stranna and Yisador fell into that category; they were tough old birds, and had seen action many times. They had been on myriad battlefields side by side, and had created and endured enough mayhem and carnage themselves to last several lifetimes over. They endured because they had seen it before and survived. Granted, they had never seen the lengths or depths of depravity the little tyrant had shown them that fateful evening, but they pushed themselves to their limit and endured that, too. They knew they had to survive - if not for themselves, then for the sake of those depending upon them. And so they did.
Theo had never seen action. She had never really been without a full complement of Guardians around her, except for her time at the Prydonian Academy on Gallifrey and when she was traveling with the Doctor. She certainly never had to endure the torment and humiliation seven years on Vejiitasei had earned her.
That, in and of itself, would have been bearable, had it not been for him.
He had ruined her. The crown prince of Vejiitasei had ruined her.
In the space of one short week he had broken into her mind and into her soul, had taken the very essence of her self, her uniqueness, and claimed it as his own. Somehow - and the redactors on Homeland could not understand how this had happened, yet there it was - he had deduced how to breech her mental defenses, simply by being linked mind to mind and watching her work with coercive power. However, that was not the worst of it. Not only was he able to access her mind, but he actually forged a channel for himself while he was there - and the path he burned into her brain was permanent. This was not a path made for a particular skill that, once the skill was obsolete, would close over; this path would never close. And it was a one way path, as well - he could use it whenever he pleased, and she would never be able to stop him. Meaning that, in sum and substance, she was tied to him until her brain ceased to function.
Forever.
If that wasn't enough to drive her mad, there were other things that pushed her toward the brink. Her memories of her futile fights to hide her thoughts and feelings from him; how he had turned her own mind against her and brutalized her; how in the end she had actually started to anticipate his intrusions, feeling the vibration of their psychic link before hearing his voice; and most hated of all, how she was unable to turn away from him once he called her, no matter how hard she tried.
As the TARDIS slipped into the timestream when Vejiitasei exploded, all outside psychic links were abruptly severed; Stranna, Olean and Yisador were released from the Freeza's insane ravings, and Theo was freed from Vejiita's strong grip. Being freed, however, did not mean that Theo was actually free; in fact, part of her subconscious understood that true freedom, for her, was something she had to reclaim on her own.
*************
Chapter One
*************
"So where is she now?"
Stranna and Meryth were strolling slowly along a leafy path in a midmorning fog, walking from Stranna's small home in the woods to Yisador's cottage in the general assembly area. Yisador had asked some of the members of her council to join her there, saying she needed to discuss something important. No one had any idea what that was, but Stranna thought she could guess.
Sighing disconsolately, Stranna poked at her palmboard with her right index finger. "I don't know. She wouldn't tell me where she was going, and I didn't want to pry. " Her dusky hair slipped over her shoulder as she shook her head, a fine mist clinging to the damp tendrils that framed her face, her eyes large and worried. She closed the lid of her palmboard and locked it with a soft click before stowing it back in her pocket. "She's been gone for quite a while now. At least she's not alone this time."
"Hmph," Meryth snorted, her plump figure waggling in disapproval. "She might as well be alone. Taking a Gant with her, of all people; they're walking psychic corpses, if you ask me. No power potential at all."
Arching an eyebrow at her friend, Stranna retorted, "Well, no one asked you, did they? Gants are the warrior's arm for the Time Lords, Meryth; they've lived that way for generations. Yisador seemed to think that this Allyssa was good enough for Theo to drag around the universe, so that should be good enough for you."
"Well, it's not," snapped Meryth, shaking her auburn head, clearly annoyed. "As a matter of fact, I voted against it. I personally don't think that Theo should go traipsing around the universe at all, no matter whom she takes with her. She should stay right here, on Homeland, and ... and ..."
"And do what, exactly?" Stranna asked, frowning down at the smaller woman.
"Stay here where we can keep an eye on her," Meryth answered, giving Stranna a withering look. "Learn to use her power properly, and not be afraid of it. She's protected here."
"Ah, yes ... our know-all, see-all, psychic protective screen," Stranna said, biting sarcasm in her tone. "It certainly served us well on our other planet, didn't it?"
Drawing the hood of her cloak closer to her head, Meryth turned to Stranna and said, small lines furrowing her brow, "It's different now. We're all working together."
"Look, Meryth," Stranna said heavily, shrugging her own hood on as the mist increased to a light, steady rain, "we were working together before, and the Saiyans still found us. I know, I know," she said quickly, holding up her hand to forestall Meryth's angry retort, "not all of us were doing our job, and now we're all quite diligent. We check the screen every minute of every day, just to make sure it's powered to its fullest potential. Heh," she snorted, "we don't make the same mistake twice. We're not that stupid."
"And speaking of stupid, we certainly don't have to worry about the Saiyans anymore," Meryth mumbled darkly. "Thank the gods they were blasted into oblivion years ago - good riddance to those nasty, horrid beasts, too."
Stranna gazed into the rain, lost in thought for a moment. "I hope you're right, Meryth," she replied, her voice tight and controlled. "I truly hope you're right. I need to believe they're all dead, if for nothing else than for Theo's sake."
Meryth glanced over at her friend and saw Stranna's hand involuntarily reach and clasp the base of her throat, pulling at an invisible collar. Meryth swallowed and was silent, remembering. They both quickened their pace as they strode through the forest toward Yisador's cottage, lost in thought.
***********
The years had hardened him, given a burnished sheen to the armor he kept around his soul, a glint to his cold, assessing eyes. As he finished his workout, his senses, keen to begin with, directed him toward his mate. He could feel her agitation and confusion, and guessed what was causing her such concern. A quick look into her mind showed him that he was correct, and he smirked to himself, satisfied. He carefully withdrew before she could detect his presence - but during the past 15 years, she had never realized they had anything more than the most rudimentary psychic connection, so he did not expect her to notice him now.
Grabbing a clean towel from one of the racks near the door, Vejiita wiped the sweat from his face and torso and threw the towel into the large hamper. Feh - I'll take a shower later, he thought, looking at his stained jumpsuit with distaste. Giving one last, cursory glance around the gravity room, he pushed the door open, turned the lights out and headed into the night, toward Bulma's workshop.
The man striding across the clipped, manicured lawn bore little resemblance to the boy who had been given to Freeza thirty-five years ago. That boy had grown in stature and strength, surpassing even the highest expectations, and had matured into a skilled, cunning fighter with a penchant for cruelty and vindictiveness - even more so than any previous Saiyan warrior.
When he was younger, the dream of becoming the first Super Saiyan in one thousand years sustained him through times in which normal men would have wished for death. Times, in fact, when it seemed the little tyrant was actually pushing him toward that choice, just to see what would happen. He had learned, and learned quickly - pain, shame and humiliation were things to be endured, while hatred and revenge against those who brought him such suffering were things to be cultivated and nurtured. Justice was an idea to be scorned; for justice to exist in his world, the tyrant himself should have been dead. Obviously, it was beyond the boy's strength, so the desire for revenge crept into his bones. Hatred and vengeance became the bedrock upon which he rebuilt himself; the proud, arrogant and essentially untainted child prince was quickly sacrificed so that the new Saiyan prince could survive. And this prince, if nothing else, was a survivor.
The events that had conspired to bring him to this point in his life were as much a mystery to him as they were to anyone. He knew, as he walked across the velvet lawn toward the inviting light of Bulma's workshop, that he was there only by the grace of Kami and by the influence of the man blocking Bulma's doorway. The man's shoulders were broad, spanning the entrance, and his hair stood up in unruly spikes all over the place.
That half-wit moron drives me insane, he thought to himself, snorting slightly in disgust. Kakarotto, what are you doing here? My mate doesn't need to be bothered by your endless chattering.
But then again - she was always at her best when she was annoyed, and Vejiita attempted to keep her off balance as much as possible. Heh - why not? he thought to himself, grinning, as he trotted across the lawn. It could be interesting.
***********
"What are you talking about, Gokuu? Of course I'm going - why wouldn't I?"
Bulma turned away from the disassembled machine in front of her to stare at her old friend, bewildered, an open arc probe in one hand and safety glasses in the other. "I built that thing with my father, and you'd better believe I'm going with him to demonstrate it." She turned back to work on her machine as she perched precariously on a tall stool. Propping her elbows on her workbench, an abstracted frown wrinkling her nose, she poked at several parts of the machine with the probe, simultaneously sliding the safety glasses across her face.
"But Bulma, it could be dangerous," argued Gokuu from the relative safety of the doorway. He had been around Bulma long enough to realize that his protests probably weren't going to make any difference, but he felt compelled to try. "You don't know these people you're gonna see - and getting there's going to be hard, too! It's farther away than Namek, and there've been an awful lot of problems between the Alliance and the Federation."
Settling the safety glasses in place, Bulma sent small, controlled bursts of electricity leaping from her probe to one of the circuit boards as she replied, "Well, that's all the more reason to go, isn't it? Besides, my father can't do everything by himself, you know. And we aren't quite finished - there are still a few bugs to work out."
She looked up at him again and gasped, immediately admonishing, "Hey Gokuu - don't look directly at the light. It'll burn your retinas, you'll go blind, and Chichi will blame me." Grinning sardonically to herself, she continued, "Chichi blames me for enough things - I don't need to add 'causing Gokuu to go blind' to the list."
They were talking in Bulma's workshop, a small building attached to the main house on the Briefs' property. It was far enough away from the main living area that any construction noises were muffled, but close enough that Bulma was available to anyone in the house who needed her during the day or night. And it was the one place where Bulma could just be herself - consequently, books, papers, odd bits and pieces of machinery and tools were scattered randomly around the room, littering every square inch of table space.
Scanning her workbench, she snagged a pair of goggles and tossed them over to him. "Here, put these on," she ordered. "I still don't want you to look directly at the light, though. It's not good for your eyes."
Gokuu caught the glasses and looked at them in almost comic puzzlement for a moment before figuring out he was supposed to slide the elastic over his head. Obediently, he snapped the glasses in place. His black hair, usually sticking up haphazardly, was forced close to his head where the elastic held the goggles in place; everywhere else seemed to make up for that tidiness, thrusting out in random spikes.
"Hey, this is cool, Bulma," Gokuu enthused, watching the flame of the arc welder lick across the surface of the circuit board. He inclined his head toward her, trying to look over the top of the goggles and objected, "But I still don't think it's a good idea for you to go on this trip. There are too many things that could go wrong - you and your father could be in real danger. Besides -"
"Listen, Gokuu," Bulma started reasonably, slinging a sidelong glance at him as she continued to work, "I went to Namek, didn't I? I flew there with Gohan and Kuririn - who left me alone most of the time - and I survived, didn't I? Why are you so against my father and I traveling to do some real, meaningful work?"
"But that's not it at all, Bulma," Gokuu said, frowning. "You didn't survive on Namek all by yourself. You needed help and protection."
"Yes, I know that," she said crossly, stopping to look at him, holding the welder straight up in the air. "Don't remind me. The only thing I could do was watch things happen." Angrily, she attacked the board until Gokuu thought the entire thing was going to melt from the heat. She shook her head in frustration and continued, "Now, I think I can actually make something happen. It's totally different."
"But couldn't someone else from Capsule go? Why does it have to be the two of you?" he whined. Gokuu knew just how headstrong and stubborn Bulma could be when she put her mind to it, and from the expression on her face, she was in full gear right now. He sighed, realizing he had lost the battle but determined to give it one last try.
"Because we are Capsule Corporation, that's why! No, Gokuu, no one else can go - we're going, and that's the end of it!" Bulma snapped, glowering. She wavered, though, when she looked at his downcast face, and softened completely when she thought about how sensitive he was. Putting the welder down on the table, she pushed her goggles up on top of her head and turned toward him, still perched on the stool.
"Look, I'm sorry Gokuu - I didn't mean to yell at you. It's just that ... well ...," She hesitated, but appeared to make a decision and blurted, " ...it's positively strange. I've been having this same conversation with Vejiita over the past couple of days, and it's really getting to me."
Gokuu straightened up and walked over to her, concerned and curious. "Oh - really? Vejiita doesn't think it's a good idea either, does he?"
"No, he doesn't!" an exasperated voice snarled behind him. Gokuu turned to see Vejiita standing in the doorway, glowering, his habitual blue jumpsuit stained with sweat, fine droplets shimmering at the top of his forehead.
Bulma had involuntarily jumped at the sound of Vejiita's voice, but recovered quickly. Training again, she thought to herself. The man just never stops ...
Ignoring Gokuu, he walked straight over to Bulma's workbench, stopping when he was about half a meter away from her. He crossed his arms tightly across his chest, narrowed his eyes and scowled at her, looking formidable. She returned his look with one of her own, glaring angrily.
"Hey, Vejiita!" Gokuu said brightly, "good to see you!"
Vejiita just grunted and kept staring at Bulma; she glowered back at him, defiant.
Gokuu looked from one to the other and back again, shaking his head. Here we go again, he thought, resigning himself to the next few moments of high intensity arguing.
"So - my conversation has been getting to you, eh? Good - that means there's at least a little sense left in that empty head of yours," Vejiita taunted, his eyes black and piercing.
"Don't start, Vejiita," Bulma warned, color washing through her cheeks as a frown deepened between her eyes, "I'm not in the mood to hear it."
"Oh, but you'll listen to this baka here, won't you?" he inquired sarcastically, motioning to Gokuu and taking several steps closer until he stood right next to her, pinning her against the table. "That's interesting, considering he's said exactly the same things to you that I've been saying."
Bulma's response was to thrust her chin out at him and snarl back, "This 'baka' has made more sense in the last two minutes than you have in the last two days. At least he shows some concern for us, which is more than I can say for some people!"
"I see no need for my mate to go halfway around the galaxy," Vejiita said, acid dripping from his tone, "just to prove that she's as smart as she thinks she is - ESPECIALLY when there are competent people who could handle the job equally well."
"..to prove that I'm....oh!" Bulma slid off her stool and stood nose to nose with Vejiita, arms akimbo and eyes blazing fire. "Since when did you become the nuclear engineer in the family, huh?" Her voice rose in volume, following her temper. "My father and I were asked - ASKED, that is - to go on this diplomatic mission because we - I mean, Capsule Corporation - built equipment that both the Federation and the Alliance want! We've been over this again and again - how many more times do I have to spell it out for you?"
A malicious smile crossed Vejiita's face as he watched Bulma smolder and fume; he knew his smiling would infuriate her even more, which would mean she would be reacting more from instinct than anything else. Good, he thought, chortling to himself.
"There are plenty of people who could take your place," he retorted smoothly, goading her. "You're not unique. But just in case you actually go, you need to tell me when we're supposed to leave."
"What do you mean? Are you deaf?" she screeched at him, her hands in balled fists at her sides, her eyes practically spitting blue fire. "There IS no one else who - " All at once she stopped speaking as the meaning of his last words became clear to her. Confounded, she stammered at him, "-what - what - what did you say?"
Smirking in triumph, Vejiita repeated, "I said - when are we supposed to leave?"
She looked at him in openmouthed stupefaction, her anger effectively deflated. "I - I don't -"
"I spoke to your father. Fortunately, he has more common sense than his daughter," Vejiita said, his eyebrows quirked in derision as he studied her reaction. "The entire delegation will need protection because of the diplomats, engineers and equipment being taken with them. Therefore, I will be going - as will Trunks - and Kakarotto and some others have volunteered as well." Vejiita nodded in Gokuu's general direction, still keeping his gaze fixed on Bulma, and smirked. "Now, woman - what do you have to say for yourself?"
Incredibly, Bulma recovered her poise. "It's about time you came to your senses," she sniffed at him, tossing her head back. "Now, if you don't mind, I still have some work to do." She slithered back onto her tall stool and pulled her goggles back into place, the only hint of chagrin in the heightened color of her face and her refusal to meet Vejiita's eyes.
Vejiita softly snorted his amusement as he watched her pick up the arc probe and the circuit board again. "Hurry up with those repairs, woman. We can't wait forever to deliver this machinery." A poorly concealed snarl was his only reply as Bulma pointedly tried to ignore him, concentrating instead on the electronics in front of her.
"Let's go, Kakarotto," Vejiita preemptory ordered, giving Bulma one last look before turning on his heel and stalking out of her workshop.
"Uh ... okay, Vejiita. 'Bye, Bulma - see you later," Gokuu said with a friendly wave, following him out of the room. Vejiita, why are we leaving now? Don't you want to talk to Bulma about the trip? he sent telepathically, confused, to the smaller Saiyan.
"'Bye, Gokuu - come back soon." Bulma's response floated after Gokuu's retreating back, again clearly excluding Vejiita.
Vejiita heard her response and smiled wickedly to himself. Oh yes, but not now. I'll talk to her later, he sent smugly to Gokuu as he strode down the hallway.
**************
Theo sighed in her sleep; small, rasping sounds slid between her lips and slipped onto her pillow. Her hands were never still - they were constantly moving, alternatively flexing against then clutching her sheets and pillowcase, sometimes grasping the fabric so hard that her nails left crescent moon scores on her palms. She slept on, oblivious to the pain.
There were times when she lay as still as stone, heavy and unmoving the night through; times when her arms and legs seemed to be in perpetual motion, windmilling throughout the night; and times like this, where she appeared to be resting peacefully. However, a closer look showed that Theo's body was mirroring the restlessness and turmoil that usually showed in her eyes.
Allyssa stood at the doorway of her room and watched her sleep, her body silhouetted by the soft hallway light streaming around her. You're safe now, she thought, as if the sleeping woman could hear her. Nothing can harm you here.
A smaller shadow padded next to her and reached up to touch her arm.
"We're just leaving Gallifrey now," a light feminine voice murmured. "I think we'll be traveling a couple of days to reach Argus VI. The timestream's a little unpredictable right now; I don't know why, but there's some turbulence ahead, and I can't forecast around it."
"We're not on a schedule," Allyssa replied, leaning wearily against the doorjamb. "So there's no need to hurry. She can use the rest, and so can we."
She looked down at the younger woman next to her, and saw that her eyes were enormous in her drawn face; the dark circles underneath them made them look even larger. We're all stretched too thin, she thought, exhausted. I wish we had traveled back to Homeland ...
"She'll be all right, Elyse," Allyssa said, forcing a note of confidence that she didn't feel into her voice. "She needs rest, and a place where she can forget the universe for a while. It will take some time, but we'll get her back. You'll see."
Elyse looked up at Allyssa, her expression dark and serious. "I hope so, Allyssa. It's just getting worse every day. I wish she would have let us go home."
Irritated, Allyssa turned her attention back to Theo and muttered, "So do I, but you know your mother ... once she gets an idea in her head, you need a crowbar to pry it out."
"I know," Elyse sighed. "She's awfully stubborn."
With a wicked sparkle, Allyssa looked askance at Theo's daughter and remarked, "It seems to be a family trait."
Elyse stared back at her, then slowly smiled. "Well, maybe so. My grandmother's a lot like Mama."
Poking Allyssa lightly on the arm, Elyse said, "C'mon - let's go get something to eat. I'm starving, and you can leave her for a couple of minutes. She's not going anywhere, you know."
"I know," Allyssa replied, still watching Theo's regular breathing. "She's safe here."
As Elyse tugged on her arm, she allowed herself to be drawn away from Theo and into the depths of Theo's TARDIS.
This is a sequel to Not As Stupid As They Look, the story that introduced the Guardian race, their involvement with the Saiyans and how they influenced Freeza to take Vejiita with him even after he decided to destroy the Saiyans utterly. Time Warriors takes place 35 years *after* the destruction of Vejiitasei, and continues with the survivors of both the Guardian and Saiyan races.
Additionally, this story is a crossover between DragonballZ, the British TV series Dr. Who, and a series of books written by Julian May called *The Saga of the Pliocene Exile.* I do not own the rights to any of the DBZ or Dr Who characters; my original characters are my own, but use ideas from each series; and I make exactly nothing from this.
Please, enjoy! - and as always, comments are greatly appreciated.
********************
Time Warriors Chapter 1
************
Prologue
************
He had ruined her.
Some people had their health ruined; Olean was one. She was frail to being with, and the stresses brought on by her unwitting link to Freeza during the death throes of Vejiitasei were almost too much for her body and psyche to bear. The redactors on Homeland had worked tirelessly for years to rid Olean of the psychic aftershocks and flashbacks she suffered; they were not entirely successful, but they did as much as they could. She remained thin and frail and silent, almost as if her memories were eating at her from the inside. The despot had given her a parting gift, it seemed; his unintentional violation had opened a new channel in her mind, and now Olean caught furtive glimpses of many futures. Eyes wide, she often stared at nothing the others could see, muscles in her jaw clenching and unclenching, her fingers tightly locked together in her lap.
Some people were hit hard, both physically and mentally, but had the resilience, courage and sheer stubbornness to help them pull through. Both Stranna and Yisador fell into that category; they were tough old birds, and had seen action many times. They had been on myriad battlefields side by side, and had created and endured enough mayhem and carnage themselves to last several lifetimes over. They endured because they had seen it before and survived. Granted, they had never seen the lengths or depths of depravity the little tyrant had shown them that fateful evening, but they pushed themselves to their limit and endured that, too. They knew they had to survive - if not for themselves, then for the sake of those depending upon them. And so they did.
Theo had never seen action. She had never really been without a full complement of Guardians around her, except for her time at the Prydonian Academy on Gallifrey and when she was traveling with the Doctor. She certainly never had to endure the torment and humiliation seven years on Vejiitasei had earned her.
That, in and of itself, would have been bearable, had it not been for him.
He had ruined her. The crown prince of Vejiitasei had ruined her.
In the space of one short week he had broken into her mind and into her soul, had taken the very essence of her self, her uniqueness, and claimed it as his own. Somehow - and the redactors on Homeland could not understand how this had happened, yet there it was - he had deduced how to breech her mental defenses, simply by being linked mind to mind and watching her work with coercive power. However, that was not the worst of it. Not only was he able to access her mind, but he actually forged a channel for himself while he was there - and the path he burned into her brain was permanent. This was not a path made for a particular skill that, once the skill was obsolete, would close over; this path would never close. And it was a one way path, as well - he could use it whenever he pleased, and she would never be able to stop him. Meaning that, in sum and substance, she was tied to him until her brain ceased to function.
Forever.
If that wasn't enough to drive her mad, there were other things that pushed her toward the brink. Her memories of her futile fights to hide her thoughts and feelings from him; how he had turned her own mind against her and brutalized her; how in the end she had actually started to anticipate his intrusions, feeling the vibration of their psychic link before hearing his voice; and most hated of all, how she was unable to turn away from him once he called her, no matter how hard she tried.
As the TARDIS slipped into the timestream when Vejiitasei exploded, all outside psychic links were abruptly severed; Stranna, Olean and Yisador were released from the Freeza's insane ravings, and Theo was freed from Vejiita's strong grip. Being freed, however, did not mean that Theo was actually free; in fact, part of her subconscious understood that true freedom, for her, was something she had to reclaim on her own.
*************
Chapter One
*************
"So where is she now?"
Stranna and Meryth were strolling slowly along a leafy path in a midmorning fog, walking from Stranna's small home in the woods to Yisador's cottage in the general assembly area. Yisador had asked some of the members of her council to join her there, saying she needed to discuss something important. No one had any idea what that was, but Stranna thought she could guess.
Sighing disconsolately, Stranna poked at her palmboard with her right index finger. "I don't know. She wouldn't tell me where she was going, and I didn't want to pry. " Her dusky hair slipped over her shoulder as she shook her head, a fine mist clinging to the damp tendrils that framed her face, her eyes large and worried. She closed the lid of her palmboard and locked it with a soft click before stowing it back in her pocket. "She's been gone for quite a while now. At least she's not alone this time."
"Hmph," Meryth snorted, her plump figure waggling in disapproval. "She might as well be alone. Taking a Gant with her, of all people; they're walking psychic corpses, if you ask me. No power potential at all."
Arching an eyebrow at her friend, Stranna retorted, "Well, no one asked you, did they? Gants are the warrior's arm for the Time Lords, Meryth; they've lived that way for generations. Yisador seemed to think that this Allyssa was good enough for Theo to drag around the universe, so that should be good enough for you."
"Well, it's not," snapped Meryth, shaking her auburn head, clearly annoyed. "As a matter of fact, I voted against it. I personally don't think that Theo should go traipsing around the universe at all, no matter whom she takes with her. She should stay right here, on Homeland, and ... and ..."
"And do what, exactly?" Stranna asked, frowning down at the smaller woman.
"Stay here where we can keep an eye on her," Meryth answered, giving Stranna a withering look. "Learn to use her power properly, and not be afraid of it. She's protected here."
"Ah, yes ... our know-all, see-all, psychic protective screen," Stranna said, biting sarcasm in her tone. "It certainly served us well on our other planet, didn't it?"
Drawing the hood of her cloak closer to her head, Meryth turned to Stranna and said, small lines furrowing her brow, "It's different now. We're all working together."
"Look, Meryth," Stranna said heavily, shrugging her own hood on as the mist increased to a light, steady rain, "we were working together before, and the Saiyans still found us. I know, I know," she said quickly, holding up her hand to forestall Meryth's angry retort, "not all of us were doing our job, and now we're all quite diligent. We check the screen every minute of every day, just to make sure it's powered to its fullest potential. Heh," she snorted, "we don't make the same mistake twice. We're not that stupid."
"And speaking of stupid, we certainly don't have to worry about the Saiyans anymore," Meryth mumbled darkly. "Thank the gods they were blasted into oblivion years ago - good riddance to those nasty, horrid beasts, too."
Stranna gazed into the rain, lost in thought for a moment. "I hope you're right, Meryth," she replied, her voice tight and controlled. "I truly hope you're right. I need to believe they're all dead, if for nothing else than for Theo's sake."
Meryth glanced over at her friend and saw Stranna's hand involuntarily reach and clasp the base of her throat, pulling at an invisible collar. Meryth swallowed and was silent, remembering. They both quickened their pace as they strode through the forest toward Yisador's cottage, lost in thought.
***********
The years had hardened him, given a burnished sheen to the armor he kept around his soul, a glint to his cold, assessing eyes. As he finished his workout, his senses, keen to begin with, directed him toward his mate. He could feel her agitation and confusion, and guessed what was causing her such concern. A quick look into her mind showed him that he was correct, and he smirked to himself, satisfied. He carefully withdrew before she could detect his presence - but during the past 15 years, she had never realized they had anything more than the most rudimentary psychic connection, so he did not expect her to notice him now.
Grabbing a clean towel from one of the racks near the door, Vejiita wiped the sweat from his face and torso and threw the towel into the large hamper. Feh - I'll take a shower later, he thought, looking at his stained jumpsuit with distaste. Giving one last, cursory glance around the gravity room, he pushed the door open, turned the lights out and headed into the night, toward Bulma's workshop.
The man striding across the clipped, manicured lawn bore little resemblance to the boy who had been given to Freeza thirty-five years ago. That boy had grown in stature and strength, surpassing even the highest expectations, and had matured into a skilled, cunning fighter with a penchant for cruelty and vindictiveness - even more so than any previous Saiyan warrior.
When he was younger, the dream of becoming the first Super Saiyan in one thousand years sustained him through times in which normal men would have wished for death. Times, in fact, when it seemed the little tyrant was actually pushing him toward that choice, just to see what would happen. He had learned, and learned quickly - pain, shame and humiliation were things to be endured, while hatred and revenge against those who brought him such suffering were things to be cultivated and nurtured. Justice was an idea to be scorned; for justice to exist in his world, the tyrant himself should have been dead. Obviously, it was beyond the boy's strength, so the desire for revenge crept into his bones. Hatred and vengeance became the bedrock upon which he rebuilt himself; the proud, arrogant and essentially untainted child prince was quickly sacrificed so that the new Saiyan prince could survive. And this prince, if nothing else, was a survivor.
The events that had conspired to bring him to this point in his life were as much a mystery to him as they were to anyone. He knew, as he walked across the velvet lawn toward the inviting light of Bulma's workshop, that he was there only by the grace of Kami and by the influence of the man blocking Bulma's doorway. The man's shoulders were broad, spanning the entrance, and his hair stood up in unruly spikes all over the place.
That half-wit moron drives me insane, he thought to himself, snorting slightly in disgust. Kakarotto, what are you doing here? My mate doesn't need to be bothered by your endless chattering.
But then again - she was always at her best when she was annoyed, and Vejiita attempted to keep her off balance as much as possible. Heh - why not? he thought to himself, grinning, as he trotted across the lawn. It could be interesting.
***********
"What are you talking about, Gokuu? Of course I'm going - why wouldn't I?"
Bulma turned away from the disassembled machine in front of her to stare at her old friend, bewildered, an open arc probe in one hand and safety glasses in the other. "I built that thing with my father, and you'd better believe I'm going with him to demonstrate it." She turned back to work on her machine as she perched precariously on a tall stool. Propping her elbows on her workbench, an abstracted frown wrinkling her nose, she poked at several parts of the machine with the probe, simultaneously sliding the safety glasses across her face.
"But Bulma, it could be dangerous," argued Gokuu from the relative safety of the doorway. He had been around Bulma long enough to realize that his protests probably weren't going to make any difference, but he felt compelled to try. "You don't know these people you're gonna see - and getting there's going to be hard, too! It's farther away than Namek, and there've been an awful lot of problems between the Alliance and the Federation."
Settling the safety glasses in place, Bulma sent small, controlled bursts of electricity leaping from her probe to one of the circuit boards as she replied, "Well, that's all the more reason to go, isn't it? Besides, my father can't do everything by himself, you know. And we aren't quite finished - there are still a few bugs to work out."
She looked up at him again and gasped, immediately admonishing, "Hey Gokuu - don't look directly at the light. It'll burn your retinas, you'll go blind, and Chichi will blame me." Grinning sardonically to herself, she continued, "Chichi blames me for enough things - I don't need to add 'causing Gokuu to go blind' to the list."
They were talking in Bulma's workshop, a small building attached to the main house on the Briefs' property. It was far enough away from the main living area that any construction noises were muffled, but close enough that Bulma was available to anyone in the house who needed her during the day or night. And it was the one place where Bulma could just be herself - consequently, books, papers, odd bits and pieces of machinery and tools were scattered randomly around the room, littering every square inch of table space.
Scanning her workbench, she snagged a pair of goggles and tossed them over to him. "Here, put these on," she ordered. "I still don't want you to look directly at the light, though. It's not good for your eyes."
Gokuu caught the glasses and looked at them in almost comic puzzlement for a moment before figuring out he was supposed to slide the elastic over his head. Obediently, he snapped the glasses in place. His black hair, usually sticking up haphazardly, was forced close to his head where the elastic held the goggles in place; everywhere else seemed to make up for that tidiness, thrusting out in random spikes.
"Hey, this is cool, Bulma," Gokuu enthused, watching the flame of the arc welder lick across the surface of the circuit board. He inclined his head toward her, trying to look over the top of the goggles and objected, "But I still don't think it's a good idea for you to go on this trip. There are too many things that could go wrong - you and your father could be in real danger. Besides -"
"Listen, Gokuu," Bulma started reasonably, slinging a sidelong glance at him as she continued to work, "I went to Namek, didn't I? I flew there with Gohan and Kuririn - who left me alone most of the time - and I survived, didn't I? Why are you so against my father and I traveling to do some real, meaningful work?"
"But that's not it at all, Bulma," Gokuu said, frowning. "You didn't survive on Namek all by yourself. You needed help and protection."
"Yes, I know that," she said crossly, stopping to look at him, holding the welder straight up in the air. "Don't remind me. The only thing I could do was watch things happen." Angrily, she attacked the board until Gokuu thought the entire thing was going to melt from the heat. She shook her head in frustration and continued, "Now, I think I can actually make something happen. It's totally different."
"But couldn't someone else from Capsule go? Why does it have to be the two of you?" he whined. Gokuu knew just how headstrong and stubborn Bulma could be when she put her mind to it, and from the expression on her face, she was in full gear right now. He sighed, realizing he had lost the battle but determined to give it one last try.
"Because we are Capsule Corporation, that's why! No, Gokuu, no one else can go - we're going, and that's the end of it!" Bulma snapped, glowering. She wavered, though, when she looked at his downcast face, and softened completely when she thought about how sensitive he was. Putting the welder down on the table, she pushed her goggles up on top of her head and turned toward him, still perched on the stool.
"Look, I'm sorry Gokuu - I didn't mean to yell at you. It's just that ... well ...," She hesitated, but appeared to make a decision and blurted, " ...it's positively strange. I've been having this same conversation with Vejiita over the past couple of days, and it's really getting to me."
Gokuu straightened up and walked over to her, concerned and curious. "Oh - really? Vejiita doesn't think it's a good idea either, does he?"
"No, he doesn't!" an exasperated voice snarled behind him. Gokuu turned to see Vejiita standing in the doorway, glowering, his habitual blue jumpsuit stained with sweat, fine droplets shimmering at the top of his forehead.
Bulma had involuntarily jumped at the sound of Vejiita's voice, but recovered quickly. Training again, she thought to herself. The man just never stops ...
Ignoring Gokuu, he walked straight over to Bulma's workbench, stopping when he was about half a meter away from her. He crossed his arms tightly across his chest, narrowed his eyes and scowled at her, looking formidable. She returned his look with one of her own, glaring angrily.
"Hey, Vejiita!" Gokuu said brightly, "good to see you!"
Vejiita just grunted and kept staring at Bulma; she glowered back at him, defiant.
Gokuu looked from one to the other and back again, shaking his head. Here we go again, he thought, resigning himself to the next few moments of high intensity arguing.
"So - my conversation has been getting to you, eh? Good - that means there's at least a little sense left in that empty head of yours," Vejiita taunted, his eyes black and piercing.
"Don't start, Vejiita," Bulma warned, color washing through her cheeks as a frown deepened between her eyes, "I'm not in the mood to hear it."
"Oh, but you'll listen to this baka here, won't you?" he inquired sarcastically, motioning to Gokuu and taking several steps closer until he stood right next to her, pinning her against the table. "That's interesting, considering he's said exactly the same things to you that I've been saying."
Bulma's response was to thrust her chin out at him and snarl back, "This 'baka' has made more sense in the last two minutes than you have in the last two days. At least he shows some concern for us, which is more than I can say for some people!"
"I see no need for my mate to go halfway around the galaxy," Vejiita said, acid dripping from his tone, "just to prove that she's as smart as she thinks she is - ESPECIALLY when there are competent people who could handle the job equally well."
"..to prove that I'm....oh!" Bulma slid off her stool and stood nose to nose with Vejiita, arms akimbo and eyes blazing fire. "Since when did you become the nuclear engineer in the family, huh?" Her voice rose in volume, following her temper. "My father and I were asked - ASKED, that is - to go on this diplomatic mission because we - I mean, Capsule Corporation - built equipment that both the Federation and the Alliance want! We've been over this again and again - how many more times do I have to spell it out for you?"
A malicious smile crossed Vejiita's face as he watched Bulma smolder and fume; he knew his smiling would infuriate her even more, which would mean she would be reacting more from instinct than anything else. Good, he thought, chortling to himself.
"There are plenty of people who could take your place," he retorted smoothly, goading her. "You're not unique. But just in case you actually go, you need to tell me when we're supposed to leave."
"What do you mean? Are you deaf?" she screeched at him, her hands in balled fists at her sides, her eyes practically spitting blue fire. "There IS no one else who - " All at once she stopped speaking as the meaning of his last words became clear to her. Confounded, she stammered at him, "-what - what - what did you say?"
Smirking in triumph, Vejiita repeated, "I said - when are we supposed to leave?"
She looked at him in openmouthed stupefaction, her anger effectively deflated. "I - I don't -"
"I spoke to your father. Fortunately, he has more common sense than his daughter," Vejiita said, his eyebrows quirked in derision as he studied her reaction. "The entire delegation will need protection because of the diplomats, engineers and equipment being taken with them. Therefore, I will be going - as will Trunks - and Kakarotto and some others have volunteered as well." Vejiita nodded in Gokuu's general direction, still keeping his gaze fixed on Bulma, and smirked. "Now, woman - what do you have to say for yourself?"
Incredibly, Bulma recovered her poise. "It's about time you came to your senses," she sniffed at him, tossing her head back. "Now, if you don't mind, I still have some work to do." She slithered back onto her tall stool and pulled her goggles back into place, the only hint of chagrin in the heightened color of her face and her refusal to meet Vejiita's eyes.
Vejiita softly snorted his amusement as he watched her pick up the arc probe and the circuit board again. "Hurry up with those repairs, woman. We can't wait forever to deliver this machinery." A poorly concealed snarl was his only reply as Bulma pointedly tried to ignore him, concentrating instead on the electronics in front of her.
"Let's go, Kakarotto," Vejiita preemptory ordered, giving Bulma one last look before turning on his heel and stalking out of her workshop.
"Uh ... okay, Vejiita. 'Bye, Bulma - see you later," Gokuu said with a friendly wave, following him out of the room. Vejiita, why are we leaving now? Don't you want to talk to Bulma about the trip? he sent telepathically, confused, to the smaller Saiyan.
"'Bye, Gokuu - come back soon." Bulma's response floated after Gokuu's retreating back, again clearly excluding Vejiita.
Vejiita heard her response and smiled wickedly to himself. Oh yes, but not now. I'll talk to her later, he sent smugly to Gokuu as he strode down the hallway.
**************
Theo sighed in her sleep; small, rasping sounds slid between her lips and slipped onto her pillow. Her hands were never still - they were constantly moving, alternatively flexing against then clutching her sheets and pillowcase, sometimes grasping the fabric so hard that her nails left crescent moon scores on her palms. She slept on, oblivious to the pain.
There were times when she lay as still as stone, heavy and unmoving the night through; times when her arms and legs seemed to be in perpetual motion, windmilling throughout the night; and times like this, where she appeared to be resting peacefully. However, a closer look showed that Theo's body was mirroring the restlessness and turmoil that usually showed in her eyes.
Allyssa stood at the doorway of her room and watched her sleep, her body silhouetted by the soft hallway light streaming around her. You're safe now, she thought, as if the sleeping woman could hear her. Nothing can harm you here.
A smaller shadow padded next to her and reached up to touch her arm.
"We're just leaving Gallifrey now," a light feminine voice murmured. "I think we'll be traveling a couple of days to reach Argus VI. The timestream's a little unpredictable right now; I don't know why, but there's some turbulence ahead, and I can't forecast around it."
"We're not on a schedule," Allyssa replied, leaning wearily against the doorjamb. "So there's no need to hurry. She can use the rest, and so can we."
She looked down at the younger woman next to her, and saw that her eyes were enormous in her drawn face; the dark circles underneath them made them look even larger. We're all stretched too thin, she thought, exhausted. I wish we had traveled back to Homeland ...
"She'll be all right, Elyse," Allyssa said, forcing a note of confidence that she didn't feel into her voice. "She needs rest, and a place where she can forget the universe for a while. It will take some time, but we'll get her back. You'll see."
Elyse looked up at Allyssa, her expression dark and serious. "I hope so, Allyssa. It's just getting worse every day. I wish she would have let us go home."
Irritated, Allyssa turned her attention back to Theo and muttered, "So do I, but you know your mother ... once she gets an idea in her head, you need a crowbar to pry it out."
"I know," Elyse sighed. "She's awfully stubborn."
With a wicked sparkle, Allyssa looked askance at Theo's daughter and remarked, "It seems to be a family trait."
Elyse stared back at her, then slowly smiled. "Well, maybe so. My grandmother's a lot like Mama."
Poking Allyssa lightly on the arm, Elyse said, "C'mon - let's go get something to eat. I'm starving, and you can leave her for a couple of minutes. She's not going anywhere, you know."
"I know," Allyssa replied, still watching Theo's regular breathing. "She's safe here."
As Elyse tugged on her arm, she allowed herself to be drawn away from Theo and into the depths of Theo's TARDIS.