Wishes and Commands

BY : Timaelan
Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 1608
Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ. All the characters are Toryama's. I do not make any profit on my fiction.

Author's note

I have to warn you that English isn't my native language. Since no one other than me edits the texts, you might find some grammar or spelling mistakes and I apologize in anticipation for that. 

You might find a lot of nasty things, but I gave up the idea of listing them. 

I also have to thank Lord Truhan for pushing me into Truhan because I think this thing would never have come out of my brain if it hadn't been for him. 

Have fun.




Chapter 1

The major part of the unit was dead in the battle and the survivors were mostly some half burnt cripples. The sickening smell of roasted flesh was floating in the air of the night like a reminder of the disaster. In case His Highness would be willing to forget it. 

Once in a while a moan of pain would echo in the distance. The sound was always weak though. The wounded fighters were still decent enough to silence their agony. Nothing surprising considering that they were, unlike their leader, full-blooded Saiyans. 

Trunks gave a heavy sigh. He was sitting on the dusty ground facing the pathetic campfire Teeb had been able to light up. The young Prince was grateful to his Second in Command for leaving him alone. After claiming Vegitasei had been informed of the latest events and was sending reinforcements, the Saiyan had disappeared. He was certainly busy helping the injured soldiers and building some makeshift shelters for them.  

Trunks couldn't help but replay the battle again and again. Had it really been a battle though? He wasn't even sure of that by now. They had landed on this rotten planet a week ago. Kenam was the name. It was hardly a particle of dust in its galaxy. The place was wild. Endless forests would cover its main part while the rest was left for barren mountains. The natives were a weird weak race and Trunks' soldiers had hardly needed a whole day to clean the area where their two space crafts had landed. 

They were well aware that other inhabitants would still linger here and there but it hadn't mattered at that point. Trunks wanted to make up a steady headquarter before exploring the planet. They would have more time to wipe out the rest of the people living here. 

What happened after that was somewhat blurry in his mind. It had been the same routine as ever. Everyone had its task. The soldiers were in charge of providing enough food for the entire unit while the scientists started their usual business. Thinking about it, it had been boring. After two days, Trunks had decided that the soldiers would move on and scour the planet. 

He'd stood up at dawn like he always did in such circumstances. He'd dressed up. He'd had his necessary coffee as usual. As a matter of fact, everything had gone as usual, until a shrill alarm had been triggered. Trunks had taken him aback by the sound as he was fastening his armor. It was the signal of an attack. Who the hell would attack them though? 

He couldn't sense anything worrying and at first, he'd believed it was all a mistake, but after a while, with the deafening howl still going on, he'd brought himself to step out of his cabin. That was when the first explosion had rumbled throughout the walls. Up from that moment, he had no longer figured out what was going on. When had he indeed? A chain of violent detonations had caused the ground to shake under his feet. A yelling Teeb had come running to him but he hadn't heard his words. After that, fire had wrapped the entire world and all hells broke loose.

"Your Highness, the backing is in sight," a voice stated. 

Trunks looked up at Teeb with some bewilderment as he hadn't seen him come. He frowned at his man's speech. "Already?"

The Saiyan nodded respectfully. "They happened to be nearby."

Trunks gritted his teeth. He wasn't ready for that, yet. Having one of his father's high ranked officers stepping in and looking down on him would only pour salt on his wound. "Who… Who is in charge?" Trunks asked hesitantly, waiting for the deathblow.  

"One of Bardock's grandsons."

Trunks' heart skipped a beat at the reply. "Goten?" he murmured in disbelief. 

Teeb shook his head slowly. "The oldest one."

Sure. Disappointment and pain twisted his guts a little bit more. He felt like yelling. He didn't know if it was out of anger, frustration or pain. All of them certainly. 

As he heard the spacecraft landing in the distance, he got up silently and dusted his knees. Teeb was watching him with uncertainty. "Are you all right, your Highness?"

Trunks glared at him. "Let's go welcome him," he just snapped.  

As they both headed to the newly arrived craft, Trunks realized how pathetic they looked. He'd brought hundred men on this planet including the scientists and the sailors and they were now only two up on their legs to meet their peers, not to mention they were filthy with torn uniforms. How did this happen? Trunks wasn't even exactly able to explain it. He had never faced such a humiliation in his whole life. 

When the door of the spacecraft slid open, he made out impressive figures standing still on top of the access ramp. He repressed a sigh. He hated that situation. 

He had the nerves to let the newcomers step down to him instead of walking up the ramp to meet them. He was still their Prince after all. 

There were three of them. An old Saiyan with his face stripped by a terrible scar was on the left. Trunks couldn't remember his name but he still knew that the guy hated Earthlings. On the right a much younger elite warrior, the fresh fearless type, had a hard time hiding his scornful smirk. Their Commander was standing right between them. The most familiar face of all. Gohan. 

He wouldn't smile in public and he looked down at Trunks with unaffected eyes. The three newcomers bowed to their Prince. Trunks wasn't ready for questions and he decided he wouldn't leave them time to speak. "We got a bunch of warriors needing medical care," he stated at once. "Teeb, take them to the camp and figure out how to deal with the wounded soldiers. Gohan, we need to talk."

Nobody dared questioning his order and he felt relieved at that. His authority wasn't completely dead. 

Gohan nodded. "Let's go to my cabin." 

Trunks followed him as he walked the ramp back up to his spacecraft. Gohan's soldiers were pouring out of the craft to give a hand to their companions. Both hybrids ignored them and made their way through the ship to the Commander's cabin. 

When the door slid close behind his back, Trunks felt oddly relieved. "I need a drink," he claimed at once. 

Gohan served him a glass wordlessly and Trunks drank it in one go. Only when he was done, did he lay his eyes on Gohan's stern face. 

"What the hell happened?" Gohan asked. 

Trunks blinked at his demanding tone. He hadn't seen Gohan for years and he realized he had become something of an impressive man. He was taller than him and obviously much more experienced and built up. For an instant, Trunks had the feeling to be back at the time when he was an unruly kid lectured by his sort of big brother. Yet, he regained his composure in the blink of an eye. He was nothing near a kid. He was a Prince and his rank was higher than Gohan's. 

Trunks took the bottle Gohan had left on the table and filled his glass again. "Actually, I'm not quite sure. I think someone attacked our crafts," Trunks explained absently. 

"Attacked?" Gohan repeated in disbelief. "I thought you cleaned up the place when you arrived on this planet. Who could attack the craft?"

That was a good question. Trunks drank the second glass as quickly as the first. He realized that he craved to get drunk and forget everything. He sat on Gohan's bed with a sigh. 

Gohan came closer to him and rested his hands on his shoulders as to get his attention. "Trunks, who could attack the crafts? Natives?" he repeated with urge in the voice. 

Trunks ran a hand on his forehead. "Huh, we didn't kill all of them. Some of them are still wandering up and there so I guess they did it."

Gohan frowned. "Are you kidding? How would they sneak up to the crafts unnoticed?" he grumbled. 

Trunks shrugged and poured a third glass. He swallowed it all and wiped his mouth. "You think I didn't wonder about the same question? The natives are harmless weaklings, we killed a bunch of them already and it was so effortless it felt boring. I guess they had some weapons in store somewhere and the survivors turned back with them." 

Gohan rubbed his chin in disbelief at Trunks' speech. "We'll find out what it's all about. Meanwhile, we have to take care of our wounded soldiers. I've been ordered to report the exact damages to Vegitasei. You look like a mess. Take some rest and we'll talk tomorrow."

Trunks lowered his gaze to the ground with a scowl. He was hardly feeling dizzy. "Does my father know about that disaster?"

As Gohan kept silent, the younger man looked up at him. The other hybrid was staring at him with a concerned face. He snatched the bottle out of the prince's grip. "That's not the point right now. I have to go help the soldiers and we'll talk tomorrow."

For some reasons, Gohan's gesture annoyed Trunks at once. He pried the bottle back from his host's hand. "Go then."

Gohan squinted at him in disapproval but he didn't protest. "As you wish," he murmured at last. 

With that, he exited the cabin leaving his Highness on his own. Trunks stared at the bottle in dejection. A painful lump had formed in his throat and there was no way he would get rid of it if it weren't about a few sip. 

He drank directly from the bottle and emptied almost the half of it before he had to catch his breath. His head was somehow spinning and his nagging need for screaming and punching someone was fading. He decided that the other half of the bottle might allow him some more oblivion. It didn't work though. There were so many things to drown that the bottle wasn't enough. 

He was startled by a gentle touch on his hand and woke up in a jump. He realized he'd fallen asleep in the large armchair, an almost empty bottle still clutched between his tense fingers. 

"Are you all right?" Gohan asked in a low voice. 

He was leaning on his young Prince, studying his face and trying to decipher his features in the twilight of the cabin. 

Trunks pushed him gently back and sat up. His head felt like a ton of bricks and he craved for more sleep but he would rather die than admit it openly. He stared at Gohan standing in front of him. His uniform was dusty and smeared with blood and yet, he still looked impressive and somehow majestic, as suited a Saiyan high-ranked officer.

A weird mix of shame and envy overwhelmed the young Prince at the sight. "I'm fine… I… What about the soldiers?"

Gohan sighed and stepped away to his closet. "Well, some are to be sent to the closest planet to enjoy a proper medical bay, some are dead or dying. Nasty job if you ask me," he explained while unfastening his armor.

Trunks frowned at the statement. "How many are still able to fight?" he grumbled.

Gohan turned his head to him, his black orbs searching for his eyes. "A handful. Ten, maybe and your crafts are nothing but old burnt junks."

Trunks bit his lips and looked down unwillingly at the bottle he was still holding. What would he say to his father?

"We should sleep for now," Gohan pointed out while slipping out his armor.  He stripped off his top wordlessly and walked past the Prince to the bathroom. Trunks couldn't help but study his chest and back in the process. Gohan had turned a true man. A true warrior too, a few scars could vouch for that. "Where am I to sleep?" Trunks asked before Gohan could close the bathroom's door. 

Gohan poked his head back into the room for an instant. "Well, considering you are a Royal person, I assume you'll have the Commander's bed. I'll sleep on the coach," he replied before disappearing into the bathroom with the door sliding close on him.

Trunks sighed and rubbed his eyes. He felt like shit. Not only because of the drinks but because of all that mess around him. He hadn't been up to the situation and seeing Gohan handling it so naturally made him aware that he still had a lot to learn. 

He rested the bottle on a coffee table and stood up. He felt dizzy. He headed for the bed with uncertain steps but he froze on his way as his eyes met his reflection in the mirror. His own uniform was torn and dirty and if truth to be told, his look had nothing to do with Gohan's strong and confident figure. 

He stumbled to the mirror, watching the guy facing him in disbelief. Things were even worse than he'd thought. He struggled with his half-burnt armor as to get rid of it. The half-molten fasteners wouldn't cave in though and he cursed under his breath. He ended breaking them all in irritation and the heavy armor dropped to the ground. 

Underneath the plates, the fabric of his clothes had gone thin with the heat and they were torn in some place. His gloves were long gone and so was his cloak. Dry blood had caked on his forehead and under his nose, and his skin was brown with naught while his hair was a filthy mess. Lucky for him, he'd cut it before leaving for that damn mission. "Your Highness," he mumbled bitterly for himself with a bow of the head. His mouth was fueled with a sour taste and he couldn't say if it was about drinking too much or facing a harsh truth.  

He was caught off guard with the door of the bathroom sliding open and Gohan surging out of it. The older hybrid paused on the doorstep, staring at Trunks through the mirror's reflection. "Something wrong, Trunks?"

The prince had a second thought as he wasn't sure if the question was meant as sarcasm or as true concern. "I need a shower. And clothes," Trunks sighed in reply. 

Gohan shrugged and slipped in a fresh T-shirt. "Make yourself home." Then, ignoring the young Prince, he walked back to the closet and took a folded blanket and a pillow out of it. 

Trunks watched him for a while. His carelessness made him somehow nervous. "Does my father know about that mess?" he asked once again. 

Gohan stopped his business and gazed at him with some sorrow in his eyes. "What do you think? No one could hide it from him. We were asked to give daily report."

Trunks gritted his teeth. 

"I do the report myself, though," Gohan added. 

The young Prince was relieved to know that. Other Saiyans would tend to make the situation even nastier than it already was, as to be able to mock the Prince's incompetence. "What did he say?"

Gohan arched his eyebrows with a sigh. "You know he's not the type to say much. He just asked further report as soon as possible."

Trunks hated that answer. He pictured his father shaking his head in disappointment, trying hard to look as unaffected as possible with his officers around. 

"You're young, Trunks. We don't know what happened and so far, no one can claim he would have been able to foresee that chaos. Get some rest tonight because everyone will expect you to be a Prince and handle the situation up from tomorrow," Gohan resumed.

For some reasons, his words affected Trunks as they sounded both like comfort and warning. 

Gohan gave him a small smile. "Now, go and shower, you reek and I'd like to sleep as well."

Despite his exhaustion, Trunks hadn't slept well and he'd woken up with the same old restlessness twisting his guts. As he was about to meet his highest ranked officers, he was growing even more nervous. Gohan was walking by his side along the corridor. His tranquil and confident composure soothed somehow the young Prince but it didn't help the wariness. Trunks had no doubt they were all waiting eagerly for his next mistake. 

When the two hybrids entered the Commander's meeting room, everyone turned silent at once.  All the officers were standing around an oval table room. They saluted their Prince with a knock of their fists against their chests and a bow of their heads. Trunks' eyes wandered on the still Saiyans for a while. He counted six officers, including Teeb. The other five were under Gohan's authority. They were wearing their brightest uniforms but Trunks knew better. They were mostly badass and morons. "Seat down," he ordered in a grunt. 

They did as they were told and the Prince took place on the Commander's seat while Gohan sat on the chair on his right. Trunks clasped his hands as to contain his nervousness. He'd believed Gohan would want to speak first but the older hybrid kept still and gave him a nod to let him know he was to start the meeting. Trunks understood it was a way to leave him the lead and make his soldiers know that the Prince was in charge from now on. Trunks was all the more grateful for that that it was so far from true. "As you know, we endured grieve losses. Lord Gohan's unit is to help moving on this mission under my commandment. Lord Teeb, Report us the situation."

Teeb stood up respectfully. "Your Highness, our two crafts have burned down and there's no hope to fix any of them. The most important damages were recorded on the inner part of the crafts while the outside have been somewhat spared. Thus, Lord Gohan's scientists came to the conclusion that fire started from inside the crafts. Actually the likeliest theory is that bombs have been placed in each of them." 

Teeb paused at the statement. His face looked unaffected but he was well aware that his explanations implied serious troubles. Trunks couldn't repress a slight frown. "Do you mean they were sabotaged?" he asked in a weak voice. 

Teeb nodded slowly. "It's very likely. None of the few witnesses still able to speak mentioned any strangers on board or out of the craft, so we suppose the bombs had been set up during the night or even the day before they blew up. We discovered pieces of a security system in one of the shells though, and the scientists are currently attempting to fix it up which might allow us to get some more hints."

The officers turned restless around the table. "Incredible. How can something like this happen?" one of Gohan's officers mumbled in disdain. It was the young fearless guy who had welcomed the Prince the day before.

The words stung Trunks' pride at once. He felt like punching that little prick. "That's what we're trying to figure out in case you didn't follow the beginning of the meeting. Maybe you have some smart answer to share with us?" the Prince hissed in contained anger. 

The young Saiyan smirked. "I have supposition but I'm not sure His Highness would like to hear them," he replied. 

"Chard," Gohan growled in a calm voice. "Remember who you're addressing. Don't shame me and shut up."

Chard's smirk dropped and he pressed his lips in irritation, preventing himself from expressing any objection to his Commander's order but it was clear enough that he disliked the situation all the same. His eyes were burning in frustration and Trunks glared at him for a moment to make sure he would keep his twisted opinion to himself. Then the Prince turned back to Teeb. "How many men do we still have left?"

"From our unit, there is still seven left. Your Highness and I make it nine still standing. Lord Gohan has a five-hundred men squad."

Trunks tried to hide his astonishment. Not only had he lost over 90 men in a day, but he found out that Gohan was entrusted with five times as many men as he was. He frowned and repressed a sigh. "Then, we still have a fair amount of men to complete that mission, just as Vegitasei ordered us to do," he concluded instead. 

Gohan cleared his throat at that. "We'll have to watch out though. We still don't know anything about our enemies."

Trunks nodded in confusion. "Yes. Lord Gohan is right. We should…"

"I suggest we leave a small squad here and split the rest of the soldiers in four units to scour the planet in all direction at once," Gohan resumed. 

"Yes, let's do it that way. Each of us will lead a unit and I'll leave to you to pick up two worthy officers to be in charge of the two others," Trunks added immediately as he was willing to hide the fact that Gohan had just made the decision for him.

Gohan squinted at the officers seating around the table. "Chard and Pirnut will do," he claimed. 

At that, the young prick and the scarred bulky Saiyan Trunks had seen the day before at Gohan's side gave a nod. Chard wore a large smirk. Trunks had the feeling that he was mocking him and he really craved to slap him in the face. "We'll leave the day after tomorrow. Maybe the scientists will figure out something with the security system you picked up. You can leave and gather your troops." Trunks announced.

The officers stood up and saluted their Prince before exiting the room. When they were gone, only Gohan and Teeb remained with Trunks. 

The young Prince sat back in his chair and ran a weary hand through his hair. "Teeb, you'll stay by my side. Go pick some trusty men for us," he commanded. 

Teeb bowed his head and stepped out. 

"Your men don't like me," Trunks grumbled when Gohan and him were alone. 

"They don't know you. The only thing they know about you is that you're not fully Saiyan and it means you have to earn your spurs. Nothing new, right?" Gohan answered softly while looking down at his clasped hands. 

"I'm their Prince. I should be the one testing them and not the other way round. If I were full-blooded… Man, look at that Chard for example…"

Gohan smiled and turned to him. "Chard can be somewhat hot-headed, I leave that to you but he's a worthy cunning warrior. He's also my Second in Command and he can turn somehow protective with me. I know how moronic it sounds but in a way he can't bear with your authority shielding mine. He's young." 

"He's a dickhead."

"Trunks, you know how it goes. We're stronger than they are but we're not exactly of their kind. Don't let their cockiness affect you. That would be a disaster even bigger than the loss of your unit, trust me," Gohan explained.
The older hybrid was trying to comfort him, Trunks knew, but his words irritated him either way. "What do you think? I leaded units before. This is not my first mission and I know how to rule my men," he spat. 

Gohan chuckled and the young Prince got piqued at once by that reaction.

"Maybe not your first mission, but the first one where you'll have to deal with soldiers who weren't picked up by Vegitasei's Royal Council. You're playing for real there, Trunks. Just don't forget that I'm not your enemy," Gohan replied while standing up. 

Trunks was fuming and yet, he knew that Gohan was right. The young Prince had always been surrounded by men chosen for their loyalty to the Throne, men who would never question the young Prince's authority and most of all, men who would forgive any of his mistakes.

"It's time to report to Vegitasei," Gohan claimed as he took a tab fixed on the wall. "I thought it would be best if you talked to your father yourself."

Trunks was taken aback by the offer and his anger gave way to worry. "My father? I…Huh, is that really the proceeding?" 

Gohan nodded. "Yup. The highest-ranked one has to give report when someone as important as your father cares to hear it."

"Why is it my father in the first place? That mission is naught, the King shouldn't even hear about it," Trunks grumbled as Gohan handed him the tab. 

Gohan tilted his head in disapproval. "Don't try to argue, Trunks. This is your role."

Trunks grabbed the tab with hesitant hands. As much as he was concerned his role was starting to go under his skin. Sometimes he wished… He shook his head as to chase away the silly thoughts popping up in his head and he turned the tab on. 

Gohan stepped back and leaned quietly his back against the wall, his eyes locked on the young man handling the device to get the connection with Vegitasei. 

The picture of the Great Chamberlain appeared on the screen, his wrinkled mouth stretching into a smile at the sight of his young Prince. "Your Highness, I'm so glad to see you well. His Majesty has been expecting your call. If you'd hold on a moment, I'll transfer him the call."

Trunks gave a brief nod without granting the man a single smile. He felt awfully nervous at the prospect of facing his father and nothing could cheer him up. Vegeta's face showed up on the screen in a split second and the young Prince understood that the Chamberlain hadn't lied when he'd told that his father had been waiting for the call. 

The stern features of his father wouldn't allow Trunks to guess his mood or thoughts. Vegeta seemed to be alone but Trunks knew better. He most likely had a bunch of fussy assholes with high ranks standing by his side, out of Trunks' sight. "Your Majesty, as you demanded I have the honor to report you," Trunks claimed. 

His voice wasn't as confident as he'd hoped. He hated it when they had to play that stupid part as to call each other Highness and Majesty. It was already hard enough to get close to his father in privacy when he would call him "Father" – On Vegistasei – or "Dad" – on Earth. The Court's moronic etiquette wasn't helping fill the gap. 

"Many men of my unit died or were severely injured and we only have nine left including me. If we add the fifty-hundred men of Lord Gohan, we might be able to carry on with the mission," Trunks explained. 

Vegeta had a slight frown. "Lord Gohan told me the crafts of your unit were ruined too. What was the cause of such disaster?"

Disaster. His father knew how to pick up the right words. Not to mention Trunks had no proper reply to his questioning. The young Prince couldn't help but run a nervous hand through his hair. "We don't know, yet. We're seriously investigating though. Meanwhile, we're going to scour the planet to check out how safe it is."

Vegeta huffed. "I don't want further loss. This planet is supposed to be peaceful and scarcely inhabited. I don't want it to cost me more than it might yield. I want exact report as soon as you have anything new."

Trunks had a dry mouth at the order. He could just nod in agreement. 

"Anything else to report?" Vegeta resumed as his son remained wordless. 

"Nothing," Trunks hardly murmured. 

His father looked hesitant for a splint second but he ended up concluding. "See you for your next report, then."

The screen went black and Trunks realized he'd been holding his breath the whole time. Vegeta hadn't even asked if he was hurt or anything. Sure, he wasn't supposed to be wounded but still, a slight demonstration of concern would have done him good.


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