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Barracks	By : chayron Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 16996 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z – it belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I am not making any money from writing it.

Chapter List
- 1-Barracks
- 2-Part 2
- 3-Part 3
- 4-Part 4
- 5-Part 5
- 6-Part 6
- 7-Part 7
- 8-Part 8
- 9-Part 9
- 10-Part 10
- 11-Part 11
- 12-Part 12
- 13-Part 13
- 14-Part 14
- 15-Part 15
- 16-Part 16
- 17-Part 17
- 18-Part 18
- 19-Part 19
- 20-Part 20
- 21-Part 21
- 22-Part 22
- 23-Part 23
- 24-Part 24
- 25-Part 25
- 26-Part 26
- 27-Part 27
- 28-Part 28
- 29-Part 29
- 30-Part 30
- 31-Part 31
- 32-Part 32
- 33-Part 33
- 34-Part 34
- 35-Part 35
- 36-Part 36
- 37-Part 37
- 38-Part 38
- 39-Part 39
- 40-Part 40
- 41-Part 41
- 42-Part 42
- 43-Part 43
- 44-Part 44
- 45-Part 45
- 46-Part 46
- 47-Part 47
- 48-Part 48
- 49-Part 49
- 50-Part 50
- 51-Part 51
- 52-Part 52
- 53-Part 53
- 54-Part 54
- 55-Part 55
- 56-Part 56
- 57-Part 57
- 58-Part 58
- 59-Part 59
- 60-Part 60
- 61-Part 61
- 62-Part 62
- 63-Part 63
- 64-Part 64
- 65-Part 65
- 66-Part 66
- 67-Part 67
- 68-Part 68
- 69-Part 69
- 70-Part 70
- 71-Part 71
- 72-Part 72
- 73-Part 73
- 74-Part 74
- 75-Part 75
- 76-Part 76
- 77-Part 77
- 78-Part 78
- 79-Part 79
- 80-Part 80
- 15
- 16
- 17
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z – it belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I am not making any money from writing it.
Warnings: Alternate Universe. Yaoi (male x male). Goten x Trunks and vice versa. Other pairings.

Barracks

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by quatreofdoom

Part 16

Leaning on the counter in the warehouse, Goten twirled his debit card between his fingers a few times. He was content. Just ten minutes ago, he had checked his account and learned that his pay had been increased by a hundred credits. The shaii had kept his word. Not that Goten had doubted him, but it was very pleasing to see the appended amount with his own eyes.

Although the weapons had been found, it seemed that the culprits were still on the loose. Goten wasn’t entirely certain about that information since nobody ever bothered to keep the savars informed, but he believed that in this case the officers would have announced a successful arrest, even if only for disciplinary reasons.

“Here you go,” the janitor said, arranging a pile of khaki-colored clothing in font of Goten. He placed the pair of boots he had been carrying with his other hand on top of the pile.

“Thanks,” Goten said with a nod, holding out his card for the janitor to take. Scooping the boots and uniforms up off the counter, Goten watched the register eat up a hundred and fifty-eight credits. He didn’t need two uniforms yet, but with his luck it was better to buy a spare one while he still had the money.

“Next time, we can talk about a discount,” the janitor said, returning the card. “You seem to be buying in bulk.”

Not sure whether it was a joke or a serious proposal, Goten gave him a brief smile. He thanked the man for the wares and left.

He only had about ten minutes until his nightly kitchen duty started. He went to his barracks and stored the uniforms and boots in his wardrobe. When his ki had malfunctioned, his uniform, including his boots, was fried. He had not seen them, but he believed Kyon when he said that they were charred beyond all recognition. Kyon had been the one to buy him a new pair of boots and bring them to the medical bay.

Kyon didn’t have much money. As far as Goten knew, he sent most of his pay to his family back home. He must have borrowed some to buy those boots. It was probably Toharu or Ranvera who lent it to him. Toharu had a way with money, but Goten suspected that it was actually Ranvera who was rolling in it. He was the one who pulled ten thousand credits out of thin air to pay Toharu to break into that accursed safe. And to think that Ranvera always acted as if he were short on cash! Goten could even remember Ranvera once saying that he had borrowed some from Toharu.

Bullshit.

Nonetheless, Goten could guess why Ranvera acted like he did. And it made him uneasy. It also made him feel grateful to Kyon for his much more practical approach to everything. Rather than doing only what people expected of him, his roommate instead did what he believed was the right thing to do. He bought the boots simply because he knew that Goten would have to walk around barefoot otherwise. For some reason, Goten was sure that Ranvera would have never considered doing that.

Muttering under his breath, Goten left for his kitchen duty.

The sky was going dark and a few savars were scattered around the yard, lazily finishing their daily tasks and thinking only about stretching their sore feet out. Goten was halfway to the kitchens when, with a soft buzz, all the lampposts blinked into life. He looked at the one above his head, then let his eyes stray towards the sky. The sand storm, after having raged for three days, had finally let up early that morning. It was a clear night, a few small stars twinkling in the distance.

There went his wish of being a pilot. Tauntingly, the stars winked at him again. At least he got a raise. And, as long as no one figured out that he was a third-class, he would be able to successfully finish this officer school. Slim chance of that happening, though. Someone was going to find out sooner or later. He might blurt it out accidentally himself. Toharu and Ario were discreet enough, but a couple of beers could change that. And then there was always the possibility of him blowing himself to smithereens. That would definitely be a hindrance to his outstanding career.

Goten snickered. He lowered his head and continued towards the kitchens. He did not want to think about any projects or how he belonged to them. He preferred not to. Because when he did, his head would start accumulating a year’s-worth of headaches. All thoughts about the whys and hows made him panicky. He had no idea what was going on. It was bad enough just to be thrown into this officer school where he was the only third-class among elites and second-classes... Just when he had finally stopped sinking and learned to swim, here came another tsunami. Again, he had to learn to keep his head above water.

He had tried contacting his father three days ago. He was told that the squad he belonged to had been dispatched to Morawa colony due to unrest there. Surprisingly enough, Goten was given the coordinates and the channel frequency of the headquarters there. Goten was under the impression that the man had just recently been appointed to his post.

When he attempted to contact Morawa colony, nobody answered the call. He tried a few hours later and still no one answered. This same scenario repeated itself for several days. Yesterday, someone finally answered and he left a message for his father, asking for him to return his call as soon as he was done with his mission.

There was no reason to worry. This wasn't the first time that he needed to contact his father and could not get hold of him. He had been extremely frustrated when Gohan’s body came in and he could not get ahold of his father. Of course, the body had been embalmed and he did not need to worry about it rotting and smelling, but still… It had been a nerve-wracking couple of days before his father returned. He had been what? Fourteen? Thirteen? There had been no one there to stop him from opening the box his brother's body was in. Actually, he had no idea why he had done that. He knew he shouldn’t have. Maybe it had been some kind of protest. It ended up giving him nightmares about near-faceless, putrefied cadavers chasing him, trying to convince him that they were his brother.

He had never seen his brother’s face. The half-burnt body was obviously male, but other than that… Then again…maybe he did see the face. One can never trust the mind when it comes to things like this. Memories tend to get distorted over time. Maybe he simply wanted to believe he didn’t see the face. It might have been too horrid to see, or maybe he wanted to pretend it was not his brother’s body. One’s mind could play tricks. Especially if one wanted it to play tricks.

They had burnt Gohan four days after his body had been sent in, with all the ceremony entitled to a Saiyan warrior. Goten wasn’t sure how much of a warrior his brother had been, keeping in mind that he had never finished officer school and he had never been in a real battle.

A few neighbors also came to give their final respects to Gohan. When it was all finally over, the ashes scattered in the desert air for the eternal battle with the winds, Goten felt restless. There was something gnawing at his gut, nibbling, worming its way inside. He had never actually hated anyone. Of course there had been bouts of anger, malice, but that never lasted. He was not one to harbor negative feelings for long. But, somehow, it got out of control. He had tried to keep it all inside for a few weeks and then he just couldn’t do it anymore. The first elite he had attacked actually did nothing more than make some stupid joke about the third class.

Gohan had been strong. And smart too. Smart enough not to get into some idiotic training accident. Gohan had also been much stronger than the average second-class. And that was the reason Goten believed that there had never been an accident. Elites. It must have been elites. Elites. Elites.

“Shit,” Goten growled out, massaging his temples in order to relieve his headache. He leaned his forehead against the cool door of the kitchen. A few seconds later, he opened the door and staggered inside. Seven females raised their heads at the sound of the door opening.

“Ah, our golden boy.”

Goten waved at Almanda lazily to acknowledge her, then started looking around for a place to sit down. One female was missing today. From memory, Goten knew that it was the loud-mouthed second-class who was always interested in booze and watching porn.

“You look like shit,” the ringleader commented.

“I feel like shit.”

“Well, yes. I suppose nearly blowing your ass off will do that to you.”

Goten gave her a half-hearted smile and took a peeler from the box on the table next to him. Then he sat down on a flattened cardboard box, previously used to contain noodles.

“You could imagine our surprise when we heard you were in a regeneration tank when we returned from field training.”

“And were you worried?” Goten asked, chuckling.

“Well, of course we were! More amused than worried, but worried nonetheless.”

Goten’s mood slightly improved. He did suspect that the ki management failure had not been entirely his fault, but the light teasing relaxed him a little.

“So what have you been up to?” he asked, grabbing a few potatoes from the pile on the floor.

The second group of second-years had returned four days ago from their field training. There had been a few accidents, a few broken bones, twisted limbs, and several missing teeth, but nothing unusual.

“Nothing much,” the leader shrugged. “But a recent health check-up showed that Hedera has gotten herself a little bit pregnant.”

Goten wondered whether that was the reason the second-class female was absent today. Not knowing whether Almanda was joking or telling the truth, Goten raised his eyes to look at her. Her eyes were dead serious. Some of other females had stopped peeling potatoes and were now looking at him as well.

“Err… I don’t believe you told me this piece of information just to gossip…” he drawled, unsure.

“You’re pretty insightful,” the ringleader said, taking another potato and starting to peel it. “She said you’re the lucky daddy.”

“That's really not funny,” Goten said, frowning down on his potato.

“It’s not supposed to be. I think an elite’s the father, so she’s trying to cover it up by using you.”

Goten stared at her with a mild shock on his face. “You mean, you are serious? No way…” He groaned. “Why the hell is all this happening to me? And haven’t they ever heard of condoms?”

“Don’t ask me; I have not the slightest idea,” Almanda said. “Anyway, tomorrow you can expect to be called to an interrogation. It’s best that you don’t play the knight in shining armor.”

Goten shook his head in disbelief. “You think I would?”

“One can never be sure with you. You sometimes want to shoulder more than you can carry.”

“Ah, now you’re being poetic.”

Almanda rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing poetic about that. It’s sheer idiocy.”

Goten sighed. “Why me?”

The leader tossed a peeled potato towards the sink where one of the females was washing them. Then she turned to look at Goten again. “I’d like to tell you that it was because you are handsome beyond belief, or because your wit has never failed you, or that you are every woman’s dream, or that you are a god in bed, but it’s more likely that your name was simply the first to come to her mind.”

“Ah. What a letdown.”

A few females chuckled. Goten shifted about, rearranging his legs, trying to get more comfortable on the cardboard. There was a fairly discernible tension in the air. It felt as if he had accidentally wandered into foreign territory. It did not yet feel dangerous, but the natives were observing his every step. The solidarity of Saiyan females was a thing to watch out for.

“What will happen if it becomes clear that it’s really an elite’s?” Goten asked.

Now the tension in the air became clearly tangible. The females were looking at anything but him or each other.

“The usual,” the ringleader said calmly, although Goten could hear the growl in her voice. “It will be aborted and she’ll be sent to one of those reproduction factories.”

A soft muttering rose from the females.

“And the man?” Goten asked, ignoring them.

“A written warning at worst. He’s an elite after all.”

Goten looked at the potato in his hands, checking to see if he had peeled all of the skin off before tossing it towards the sink. He did not feel like commenting. It wasn’t fair, but there was a lot of unfairness all around. The second-class female had not been fair when she had used his name either. Of course, if she had known that he was a third-class, she would have never thought of using it. As a second-class, he was in no danger at all. But if it suddenly became clear that he was a third-class, he would be executed and she would still be sent to one of those institutions.

“I suppose I could claim to be the father, but there's a problem. If it's born with a white-tipped tail, the baby would be killed anyway, she would be locked up in one of those so-called factories, and I’d be accused of giving spurious evidence and get sent out into the middle of nowhere to herd goats for the rest of my life.”

“Oh my!” the ringleader exclaimed. “And I thought you had no brain at all!”

Goten gave her a look. “If there is no white tip on the tail, I could save the lives of both her and her child. But a fifty percent chance of success is…” Goten sighed. “I’m sure she begged you for help and you were the one to advise her, but…”

The ringleader chuckled. “You’re smarter than you look, it seems.” She shrugged. “Well, I only advised her to find a scapegoat. It did not seem like such a bad idea when she came up with you.”

“Then why were you trying to talk me out of it?”

“Well, men don’t like to feel pressured. The best thing is to let them think that they were the ones to come up with the idea. And some men are idiots in love with idea of noble sacrifice.”

“And you believe that fits my characteristics… Err… I’m afraid you are off.”

The elite shrugged. “It was worth a try.”

The funny thing was, Goten was not sure how he would have reacted if he really was a second-class. He did not dwell on it much, but he had a feeling it might have turned out just as the leader had planned. After all, he had a knack for idiocy.

ooOoOoOoo

“Here comes trouble,” the shaii said when, after a brief knock, Goten opened the door.

“Sirs!” Goten saluted.

“At ease.”

The shyu, who was sitting opposite the prince’s desk, looked at his wristwatch. “Oh, it’s already half past eleven.” He looked at Goten, who was still standing at the door like he was glued in place. “I suppose we’ll continue this later, sir?” he asked, already collecting his documents into a neat bundle.

“Yes, of course. I’ll give you a call.”

The shyu nodded. “Sir,” he bowed his head, picking up the documents that he had gathered with a practiced ease.

“Well, sit down, Goten,” the prince said after the shyu had left.

Obediently, Goten walked over to the desk and sat down, the chair still warm. The prince was stacking his files, and Goten took the time to look around the office. It was relatively cleaner than the last time he saw it. The shaii’s desk was spotless, not a speck of dust to be seen.

The office smelled faintly of cleaners and detergents. Goten looked at the windowsill. The pair of dried up flies was absent. Well, the janitors finally got to that. Rest in peace.

It was very hot again. The blinds were closed, but the merciless sun had managed to squeeze itself through the slats. Even though the blinds were closed and there were no other sources of light in the room, it was still pleasantly illuminated.

Goten looked at the floor. It was mostly clean, only sullied by a trail of sandy footprints leading from the door to his chair. Obviously, somebody had been walking around without waiting for the floor to dry off. The floor looked dry already, but, just in case, Goten lifted his feet and inspected his soles. No, it wasn’t him. Must have been the shyu.

“I must admit,” the shaii began, as he finally finished building a mountain of documents to his right, “that I’m getting more and more concerned about your ever growing popularity.”

“I didn’t do it, sir.”

A little surprised by the quick response, the shaii blinked at him. Then he nodded. “Well, yes, I know you didn’t. Even if you’re the suicidal type, you also have your limits. I’m more interested in why she chose you.”

“Oh, must be my magnetism, sir.”

“The only magnetism you have is for trouble.”

Goten pouted at him.

The prince rolled his eyes at the display. He was used to this already. Goten visited his office nearly every two days for some reason or another. He liked and looked forward to these silly conversations with the third-class. He knew that it was probably because there weren’t that many people he could relax with, instead of always thinking about what to say next. It was not that he did not respect Goten or didn’t value his opinion. Both of them had their own roles to play. There was also the obvious truth that Goten acted like he did in his office simply because he allowed him to.

He was of higher rank and social status and was the more experienced of the two and, naturally, Goten consented to that. Actually, the prince suspected that Goten even consented to the role he wanted the third-class to play. Goten had guessed right, the life on the base bored him out of his mind but this did not mean he wanted Goten to be his personal clown. All he wanted was just someone to…talk to…?

Ah, I need a good lay, the prince thought. And the sooner, the better.

The shaii noted that Goten seemed relieved that he believed him. To tell the truth, there was not a moment he thought that the third-class had slept with that female. Goten had strong feelings concerning classes. He was very conscious of his third class status. For one, he hated elites. Or seemed to believe he hated them. Secondly, he complained an awful lot about how their tiered society was unfair to the third-class. This meant that there was a slim chance that he would touch a second-class female. Apparently, it was even Goten’s motivation to keep out of that second-class pervert Ranvera’s way. It was a very curious thing that, for one so bent on liberating the third class, Goten was surely too keen on preserving the classes’ boundaries.

But then maybe it was not curious at all and he probably should not expect anything different. People on Vegeta-sei didn’t know any other way. Goten was smart and he could guess that Goten was pretty well-read in various genres, but revolutionary literature was strictly forbidden on Vegeta-sei. Besides, most rebellious Saiyan writing was just the raving of radical madmen. Or just madmen. Goten had probably encountered a small taste of those works in his lifetime, and quite likely they had left him more confused than enlightened. Having lived as he has his entire life, Goten probably wouldn't be able to stomach a more serious piece of revolutionary literature. His horizons were too narrow and he lacked experience; that was it.

“Hmm…” the shaii drawled. “Have you ever read Marx’s…” he trailed off suddenly, wondering what the heck he was doing.

Interested, Goten leaned forward. “It doesn’t sound like a Saiyan name, sir.”

“No, it isn’t.” To tell Goten to forget it would be like telling him to go and dig it up. His only saving grace was to lie. “There was this romance novel I read long ago. It seems a bit similar to your situation.”

“Oh. Sir reads that kind of stuff?”

The prince eyed him threateningly. “And what’s wrong with ‘that kind of stuff’?”

“Err…nothing, sir. It’s perfectly normal for a young boy to…”

The prince cleared his throat to silence him, “Spare me of your insight.”

Not sure what was further expected from him, Goten patted himself on his head. Short stubs of re-growing hair felt good under his palm.

“So what will happen to the female, sir?”

The prince shrugged. “Well, since you’ve refused to be her scapegoat, she’ll be interrogated further. It all depends on who the father is. But it’s obvious that she wouldn’t have lied unless he's an elite.”

“Or a high-ranking officer, sir,” Goten said matter-of-factly.

“I doubt that,” the shaii denied at once.

“Why, sir? The father could be someone important who already has a partner and would want to hide a relationship with an undistinguished savar.”

The prince gave him a long searching look. “Goten, there are only three high-ranking officers on this base who would give a damn about their reputation. Let me present you with the extensive list: me, the taisa and the shyu. I can vouch for myself and the taisa. Now the shyu…he’s a second-class. You give him one second-class female or a dozen and he’ll acknowledge all his children, even the ones he won’t ever have.”

“I see, sir.”

The shaii nodded. “Besides, I’m sure that to protect herself and the baby, she would have already pointed her finger at any second-class high ranking officer already, be it the shyu, any of the captains or whatever.”

“Yes, sir,” Goten agreed, “she really would have.”

“Alright,” the prince sighed, turning to his right to ransack the pile of documents. “Write a statement denying her testimony.” As he did not find an empty sheet of paper in the stack, he started rifling through his desk drawers. “Here,” he said, pushing a paper he had finally found towards Goten.

“Err…” Goten drawled. “What should I write, sir? That it’s not mine?”

“That would be a good start,” the prince said, taking a seemingly random folder of documents out of the stack on his right. Forgetting all about Goten, he opened the file and started reading.

Taking the cue, Goten lowered his head back to the blank paper. Then he raised his head again and his eyes drifted over the desk, measuring it from his left to his right.

“Sir? Could I have a pen, please?”

“Ah, yes,” the prince nodded absentmindedly, rolling the pen he had been holding over the desk surface towards Goten who snatched it as soon as it was within his reach. The shaii opened his drawer, where the shuffle and hustle of papers was heard for a few moments, and victoriously retrieved a pen with a gnawed out butt.

Goten gave it a funny look, then put his paper on the desk and leaned over it while trying to sort out his thoughts. To simply write “didn’t do it and it ain’t mine” seemed to lack finesse.

About half an hour later, with a loud yawn, the shaii lowered the folder he had been reading to the desk. He started in his seat at the sight of Goten in front of him. He had completely forgotten the third-class was in his office. The thought was disquieting.

The prince stood up quietly and rounded the desk. He took a look at the part of the paper which was not under the peacefully sleeping third-class’s cheek and was not covered in drool. He could make out nearly everything Goten had written down:

Hataro Officer School
Savar Goten Bardock, third second-class

To: Shaii Trunks Vegeta and other concerned authorities

STATEMENT

I, namely Goten Bardock, have never been in an intimate relationship with Hedera ??? Consequently, the child she is carrying is not mine.

Goten Bardock

There was also a large doodle of a plant similar to a cactus in the margins, probably drawn while Goten had been thinking about what to add to those two sentences. When it came to writing, it didn’t seem that Goten was a man of many words. At least he wasn’t snoring in his sleep.

The shaii sighed and pulled the paper out from under Goten’s cheek. The third-class woke up with a start, instinctively pulling back and looking around. He looked at the shaii’s form looming over him. It wasn’t threatening and Goten could not detect any signs of aggression. On the whole, the other male’s scent was soothing: a faint trace of sweat, clothing, and his unique bodily scent mixed with the soap or shower gel he used. There was something unnamable as well. Something which made Goten think of tranquility.

Sleepily, Goten blinked at the prince’s face. He had long ago noticed that the shaii’s scent was different from other Saiyans’. One could pick up the peculiarity as soon as they were faced with the prince. The difference was difficult to pinpoint, his scent almost weak and diluted, which in turn sometimes made one feel uncomfortable around the prince. It was only because the other male was standing so close to him that Goten could easily detect all of what he had.

“I can’t really accept that,” the prince said, waving the document in front of Goten’s face. “First, you wrote ‘third-class’ then struck it through and wrote ‘second-class’. Anyone else reading this would think you’re an idiot. Second, her surname is Dirnem. And finally, what the hell is with this cactus over here?” he asked, pointing at the doodle.

Goten scratched his head sleepily, then rubbed at his eyes. “Yes, sir, I’ll rewrite it right away.” He yawned. “Is it any good otherwise?”

The shaii shrugged, then lowered the paper to the desk in front of Goten. “It will do. There’s nothing much to add anyway.” He started walking back to his seat behind the desk, intending to find another blank paper for Goten to write on.

“Yeah, that’s for sure, sir,” Goten agreed, his face being split by another huge yawn.

“I see you still get those spells of drowsiness.”

“Mmhmhm…” Goten hummed something out while trying to wipe his drool off the old statement. He only succeeded in smudging the ink all over his writing. “Damn,” he muttered. “The head physician said they should pass in a week or two, sir. I also eat like a horse, sir. Kind of everything in sight. I also get these terrible mood swings.”

“Oh, do you? Sounds like normal aftereffects of someone nearly kicking the bucket.” The prince pulled out a white sheet of paper and went to push it over for Goten to take, then faltered. “Go wash your hands first.”

Goten took a look at his bluish palms. “Mmmhmm.” He stood up. “Yes, sir.”

“You can use the bathroom on the first floor.”

“Hmm…” Goten drawled, unsure.

“Tell them I told you to.”

“Alright, sir.”

A few minutes later, Goten returned with his hands clean. He carefully rewrote his statement.

“Did you manage to contact your father?”

“No, sir. There seems to be a bit of a trouble with that. But yesterday someone finally responded, so I left a message for him to call me back. No news so far, though,” Goten said, handing over the finished document.

The shaii took it and skimmed through. Apparently satisfied, he dropped it on top of the stack of documents on his right side. “Morawa colony, was it?” he said in a distant voice. There always seemed to be trouble brewing.

Goten nodded. “Sir knows something about it?”

“Yes, I’m more or less familiar with it. It think it was four years ago when we half-crashed, half-landed on it.”

“Oh. And what happened then, sir?”

“We took over their main base. By accident. And then the rescue and the rest of the troops came and…”

Not certain whether the prince was pulling his leg or being serious, Goten was giving him an inquisitive look. Then Goten’s face brightened. “Four years ago, sir? So sir was one of those men who conquered Morawa?”

There was something reverent in Goten’s eyes and the prince suddenly felt uncomfortable. “It was just pure luck. One of their nuclear armories exploded and all that was left for us to do was pick off the survivors after the radiation cleared.”

“Oh.” Then Goten seemed to realize another thing. “Four years ago, sir? Sir, how old were you exactly?”

“I think fourteen or something like that.”

Goten gave him a disbelieving look. “And they let sir go? The heir to the throne? When he was only fourteen years old? Are they all idiots there?”

“Well, look here, Goten. The heir is my father. And it hadn’t been a planned attack; nobody had known we’d run out of fuel and drop on that crap of a planet. Besides, my grandfather was leading men into battles when he was no older than eleven, so I figured it was a damn good time to start my own career as well.”

“Yeah, it was a pretty good one, indeed, sir,” Goten muttered. “Would have been a pretty spectacular ending to one as well.”

The prince glared at him.

“Anyway, sir. About the baby.”

For a split second, without any comprehension, the shaii just stared at Goten. “Oh, that again,” he said then. “What about it? Is there anything else I should know?”

Goten hesitated. He shifted in his seat, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. “And if it’s an elite’s, does it really have to be…?”

“Terminated, you mean?”

Goten nodded. “Well, sir, I mean, there’s nothing good about classes mingling together, but still… it doesn’t seem…err…”

“…Like the right approach?” the prince finished for him again.

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, let me ask you one thing, Goten. Why do you believe that the classes shouldn’t mingle together?”

Goten gave him an uncomprehending look. He waited for the prince to say something, but it seemed that he was really waiting for his answer. Goten shook his head, confused. “What do you mean ‘why’, sir?”

With a sigh, the prince leaned back in his chair. In fact, he had no idea why he had started this conversation. From any point of view, it was unwise to talk about these things on Vegeta-sei. Especially to lower classes. Just as predicted, Goten had reacted as if he had asked why grass grew or the sun shone. It was instilled in their brain. Actually, he found that it was rather annoying that Goten believed all that nonsense.

“What class do you think my mother belongs to? Elite?” the shaii asked softly.

Goten nodded without thinking. Then he caught himself. No, she could not be elite because there were no classes on Earth. Goten tried to discern any awkwardness on the prince’s face, but there wasn’t any. At the same time, the prince knew what that look was for and chuckled lightly. Somewhat abashed, Goten lowered his eyes to the surface of the desk.

The prince had the status of an elite, while in reality, his mother… Goten had already encountered a few cultures where there were no classes at all. Everyone mingled with anyone they wanted. He could hardly wrap his mind around it.

“But it weakens the blood, sir,” Goten protested faintly.

“Does it really?”

Goten lowered his eyes to stare at the desk again. In fact, he had heard rumors about the prince being stronger than his father, despite his mixed blood.

“It's outrageous,” Goten blurted out finally.

“Is it?”

“Sir, everyone knows that mixing blood waters down the power. If everyone started mingling, soon we would have no elites left and they are the main military power.”

“Oh? Are you really so certain of that? There are not so many elites in comparison to other classes, only seven thousand at most. They mostly breed amongst themselves, and have been from time immemorial. Now, Goten, both of us attended biology lessons. What does this tell you?”

Goten stared at the prince in a mild shock. “That there is not much variety in their gene pool?”

“Spot-on. Now, we shouldn’t forget to add genetic disorders and various inheritable abnormalities which are commonly traded among elites. The fact is, in reality, before choosing their partner, elites look at the list of their genetic flaws first and then at their face.”

“I had no idea…” Goten stuttered out.

The prince nodded. “Well, of course you didn’t. This kind of information is not easy to obtain.

“Now,” the shaii continued, “you also said that elites are the main military power. And you’re saying so after your father has been on about a hundred successful missions? Then take me, for example. I’ve only engaged a real enemy once. And I got a medal and a promotion for that.”

“But, sir,” Goten argued, “when it comes to the main battles, it’s the elites who fight the strongest enemies. They can wipe out entire fields with their ki.”

The prince nodded. “Yes, it is so. But does that happen frequently? Usually, we just send in a bunch of disposable third-class meat to deal with it. If that’s not enough, then off you go, second-classes.”

Goten stared at him for a few seconds. “Sir?”

“Yes?”

“Why the hell are you telling me all this, sir?”

“Oh, I believe you know very well why, Goten.”

“Nn… Well…” Goten hesitated. “I’m not very sure, sir. Being an elite and all that…”

“Hmm… I’m not really an elite, not by blood. Rather by choice or luck, most likely. But instead, I’d like to think of myself as of a Saiyan. Oh wait, but that’s not true either.” The shaii chuckled bitterly, amused by the look on Goten’s face. “It’s all only in your head, Goten. It’s all brainwashing. The Saiyan Empire is really good at that.

“You feel out of place on this base, Goten? Why should you? You have the best notes in your class. You are stronger than an average elite, not to mention that you’re smarter than some eighty percent of the savars here. Why do you still feel inferior? Because you are a third-class? And what exactly is a third-class, let me ask you? You bitch and moan an awful lot about how unfair it all is, but when it comes time to actually interact with the other classes, you don’t budge an inch, do you?”

By this time, Goten’s scalp had become unbearably itchy. “Sir, I don’t think I follow you…”

“Of course you do!” the prince snapped at him.

“I feel a little bit lightheaded.”

Goten really didn’t look that good and the shaii relented. “Alright, I don’t think I have anything else left to add anyway. Just clear out, will you? And don’t worry. In the worst-case scenario, I’ll just send her and the baby off to some backwater planet. That will take care of it.”

Goten somehow removed himself from his chair. He tried to ignore his legs as they attempted to fold down underneath him. “Thank you very much, sir. I… This was very interesting, to say the least.”

“Likewise.”

TBC
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