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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
- 1
- 2
- 3
Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ – 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.

A/N 1: Officer ranks at Hataro Officer Training School [from the highest to the lowest]:
1. Taisa
2. Shaii
3. Shyu
4. Captain [Laureus Tanko]
5. Drill sergeant
6. First-in-command
7. Second-in-command
8. savar [anyone attending any officer training school]

A/N 2: The Saiyan education:
0. Preparatory school (pupils 8-13 years old)
1. Paramilitary school (pupils 14-18). From there to --> boot camps (drafts/grunts) or:
2. Officer training school (savars 18 – 20). From there to --> military posts or:
3. Commissioned Officer Academy (ranks)

A/N 3: Now and for further chapters: If there are any mistakes left, it is not my beta-readers’ fault but mine because sometimes I’m just a bitch who resists grammar.

A/N 4: Here’s the map of the base: http://pics.livejournal.com/chayron/gallery/00001hxg

Barracks

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Redmarshin and kissychan1101

Part 2

Goten yelped and jumped in his bunk as pain shot through his left leg. His eyes quickly concentrated on the man in front of him, his second-in-command. Goten hopped off the bunk, planted his feet on the floor, and saluted. His tail got caught up between the blankets. Goten yelped in pain, dropped to his knees, and cursed loudly.

“You idiot! It’s half past five! Why aren’t you in the formation?!” the second-in-command’s yell broke through Goten’s pain-filled world.

“I was freed from physical activity, sir!” Goten wheezed, getting a hold of himself and climbing back to his feet.

“And who the fuck told you that you don’t need to report to your drill sergeant?” the second-in-command shouted. “Dress! Now!”

“Crap,” Goten muttered inaudibly while putting his uniform on. Not only didn't they let him sleep, but he was also going to be punished.

The second-in-command ushered Goten outside to the field, where his squad was already doing their push-ups and sweating heavily. The second-in-command pushed Goten over to the drill sergeant.

“Sir!” Goten saluted.

“So this is our sleeping beauty?” the sergeant snarled at Goten. “Goten Bardock,” he said, as he looked at the registration files in his hand. He put a tick next to Goten’s surname. “Someone fucked up the papers again,” he scrapped the third-class lettering next to Goten’s picture. “Fix it!” he barked at the second-in-command.

The drill sergeant turned his head to yell at Goten, who was happy to climb the social ladder so quickly. But, he had a sinking feeling he’d heavily hit the ground several days later. Goten ignored the series of curses and death wishes directed at him, then listened intently when the essential information came.

“So, while the others will be training, you’ll have kitchen duty! Don’t fucking think that while the others will be sweating, you’ll be comfortably lying in a cradle, you sissy!” The sergeant smacked Goten in the face with the registration files. “Get the fuck over to the kitchen!” he snarled at Goten, who remained rooted to the spot.

“Sir!” Goten blinked at the angry face. “I don’t know where the kitchens are, sir!”

The sergeant cursed and smacked Goten again. “Bring this sissy to the kitchens!” he said to the second-in-command, and Goten understood that he had already gotten his nickname.

ooOoOoOoo

Resigned, Goten looked at the mountain of potatoes that waited for him. He had been na?ve to think that he would be allowed to simply rest and heal. He sighed, took a peeler in his hand, kicked an empty packet of noodles over the dirty floor and into the corner, sat down onto it, and bent to his task.

The kitchen was busy. People were running back and forth; pot lids were lifted and pots were stirred; vegetables, cereal and meat were chopped; food was poured into the pots to be fried; plates were rattled. It was hard to breathe in the kitchens. The heat and humidity from the stoves was not sucked out by the vents quickly enough.

The smell there was not that of cooking food, but something organic and close to rotting. Goten was glad that he was sitting down, and the cloud of warm vapor and scents mostly floated above his head. Actually, the smells were very close to the one he remembered from his paramilitary school. He wondered if that odor was a required standard in every public eating-house.

There were five more guys who, like him, had been unfortunate enough to get themselves hurt one way or another, and had been sent to peel potatoes. One of them had a broken hand, but was quickly appointed to wash the peeled potatoes with his uninjured hand.

They talked about this and that, and shared stories of how they got kitchen duty. Goten had hardly noticed that an hour and a half passed by. He and the rest of the guys went to wash their hands, then turned to the canteen adjacent to the kitchen. They had their breakfast together with the rest of the savars.

Goten decided that the chefs were purposely making the food inedible. All the ingredients that reached the kitchen seemed to be fine and good for use, but what came out of the kitchen... Gagging, Goten ate the disgusting mass and decided to steal some non-prepared food from the kitchen.

After breakfast, most of the savars hit the showers and got ready for that morning's lecture, but Goten went back to his room. His roommates still weren’t there. Goten walked over to the end-table and turned on the radio. He plopped onto his bunk. He wiggled and stretched his weary bones.

Goten’s sleepy eyes blinked open momentarily when he heard his door click shut. Then they flew open – he had fallen asleep! Goten jumped from his bunk, his breath caught in his lungs in disbelief and worry – he’d be skinned alive for this!

“Hey,” said Kyon. Kyon whipped his wet tail, splashing water off its fur and onto the opposite wall, where it ran in rivulets to the floor. He was just from the showers, his chest bare, a white fluffy towel wrapped around his waist. The smell of cheap soap, mixed with his natural scent, permeated the room.

Goten’s scared mind was faster than his eyes. He grabbed onto the thought that if Kyon was still here, it meant that he hadn’t overslept. His eyes fell onto the clock that was standing on the table, and confirmed that he still had fifteen minutes until the lectures started.

Goten fell back onto the bunk with a sigh of relief. He winced as his back hit the hard planks underneath.

“Got an extra notebook or something?” Kyon asked, as he walked over to his bed. He tossed the towel onto his bunk and walked over to their wardrobe to get a fresh pair of underwear. “I didn’t have it the previous time. I got yelled at and had to do two hundred push-ups. I forgot to get a new notebook again.”

Goten blushed and averted his eyes from Kyon’s round backside. “Yeah, I think I have,” he nodded. He got up to dig in his backpack. “Here,” he held out a thin exercise book. “Nice boxers,” he chuckled as Kyon walked over. The boxers were adorned by the frames of naked females and males in compromising positions.

“My mom,” Kyon laughed, taking the exercise book. “She likes that funny stuff.”

Goten was a little surprised but didn’t say anything. It was strange that a second-class knew who his mother was, and even managed to maintain a relationship with her.

“Where are Daram and Roland?” Goten asked.

“Heck knows. They have a different schedule than ours,” Kyon shrugged, as he pulled his pants up. He quickly flung the rest of his uniform on, and he and Goten left the room.

Goten had no idea where the fifth auditorium was, so he simply followed Kyon to one of the huge gray buildings. He jumped in surprise when someone suddenly slapped a hand on his back.

“Hey!” Ario grinned at him after Goten turned around. “So it seems you still have to attend the lectures?”

Kyon’s eyes slid over the man’s bulky figure. So far he had seen only one person – Daram – who had the same build as this man. It crossed Kyon's mind that Goten was adept at making friends with the right people. The boy is much worthier than he looks, he thought.

“Yeah,” Goten nodded. “I was a na?ve fool to think I’d simply roll in my bunk. And I’ll peel potatoes each time you guys do some physical exercises.” Goten motioned at Kyon. “Ario, this is Kyon, my roommate.” Ario nodded at Kyon. “We attended the same paramilitary school.”

The three of them neared the building. A jam had formed while everyone was trying to get past the door and into the auditoriums.

“Toharu!” Ario shouted over the heads of other savars. “Hey!” he waved his hand after the other Saiyan turned around at the familiar voice. “Toharu, get us four seats! Toharu!”

Toharu’s eyes finally found Ario’s bald head over the other savars. “Stop yelling, moron!” Toharu shouted back. “I’ll see what I can do!” Accompanied by several amused chuckles around him, Toharu turned back to the auditorium's door.

Goten, Ario and Kyon finally swam through the door and into a long corridor, which then suddenly spilled all savars into a huge auditorium. Goten’s eyes caught a little disturbing scene at the very front of the auditorium: Toharu was arguing with several guys, their voices raised in anger as the curses flowed.

Ario plowed through the savars. He stood up behind Toharu, his dark gaze falling on the two opposite-standing men. “Sweetheart?” he asked.

“I got here first! Those places are mine!” Toharu continued waving his hands in anger, bristling, not paying attention to Ario.

“It doesn’t work like that…” one of his opponents muttered, his voice subdued. He looked at Ario’s bulky figure over Toharu's shoulder again. He wasn’t so sure that he wanted to oppose Toharu any more. He became even less sure when Goten and Kyon approached.

“Who said that?” Toharu growled. “I came, I saw, I put my behind on it, so it’s mine!” the short Saiyan declared.

Goten shrugged. Ignoring the childish spat, he hopped over the row of the desks where the four places were still free and sat down. He motioned for Kyon to do the same. Goten caught the angry looks of two guys and grinned back at them; like he gave a damn. Ario and Toharu soon followed his example and climbed over the tables to get their places.

The lecturer arrived shortly after, and the savars were condemned to a two-hour lecture about arms versus ki-blasts on the battlefield. Goten didn’t have a very good memory, but he could still remember most of the facts from paramilitary school. But the information he was getting here was more in-depth and of more practical appliance. He wasn’t surprised as, after two hours of non-stop scribbling into the notebooks, the instructor said that tomorrow they’d have practice using guns. The announcement aroused a wave of murmurs – Saiyans preferred not to use small arms. It was considered a disgrace.

After the lecture they had a short break, followed by another lecture about the re-introduction of cold-steel to the Saiyan Army. During the introductory history lesson, the savars were shown knives, daggers, ki-swords and other cold iron. Goten suddenly remembered that the firearms and cold-steel practice sessions had been posted on the message boards.

“Hell…” Toharu arched his back after they filed into the corridor to catch some fresh air. His vertebrae crackled, and he exhaled happily. “And the last lecture today…” His tail swished behind him to get the blood flowing. He sat down onto the windowsill, and waited for Ario to come back with something to drink.

Goten couldn’t help but smile, after he noticed Kyon’s eyes lock on Toharu. Toharu was nice to look at, and had the sexual appeal only a rare Saiyan could have – his body was smaller than that of most Saiyans. Somehow it even seemed delicate. Soft and big, Toharu’s eyes looked friendly and open; his full lips made the picture even nicer. Goten could only imagine how Toharu must have looked with his hair long.

With interest, Goten watched Toharu catch Kyon’s gaze. Toharu smiled back at Kyon, the very tip of Toharu’s tail curling up seductively. Kyon was pleased. Not one to waste time, he walked over to Toharu. Goten couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but Kyon’s face shone with excitement.

Toharu jumped off the windowsill and went to Ario, who returned bearing four cans of soft drinks. Toharu turned his head to wink at Kyon, and then his mouth was on Ario’s.

Goten heard Kyon curse and squirm uncomfortably. Goten thought that Kyon must have been blind not to see that Toharu and Ario were closer than fuck-buddies...or maybe Kyon decided to take that tiny chance he thought he had.

“What happened?” Ario asked, after they approached. Ario’s gaze swept over a furiously blushing Kyon.

“He was trying to get into my pants,” Toharu said, as he sipped from his can. He scrunched his pointy nose when the carbonation tickled it.

Kyon’s head shot up, his wide, shocked eyes concentrating on the two Saiyans opposite him. He couldn’t believe that Toharu had just simply said that. Ario was going to pulverize him!

Ario only chuckled. His lover always put others in situations like this. Toharu merely loved feeling wanted. He was sure that Kyon didn’t do much except wink or stare at Toharu, and Toharu himself put on a playful show – if there had been something serious, Toharu and Kyon would already be rolling on the floor, with Kyon getting the shit beaten out of him.

Goten chuckled, amused by the whole scene.

Ario made a mental note to watch Kyon carefully, and followed his lover back into the auditorium.

The development of ki-guns wasn’t Goten’s favorite subject. He tried taking notes, but then decided that he’d copy the notes from Kyon. He put his pen aside and relaxed.

Goten murmured something under his nose as Toharu kicked him in the shin. He muttered again, after Kyon punched him in the side.

“Aiiii!” Goten screamed, as a heavy book smashed into his head. He shot to his feet and looked around through bleary eyes. His eyes slowly focused on his lecturer’s angry, flushed face. “Sir?” Goten saluted, blinking, still not quite gathering his wits.

“A thousand push-ups!” the lecturer screamed, pointing at Goten. “Now!” His teacher pointed to an empty corner near the front of the auditorium.

“Sir!” Ario stood up. “He’s suffering from concussion, sir! He’s always sleeping, sir!”

“Show him the fucking note,” Toharu hissed under his breath. As he nudged Goten in his side, he simultaneously flashed the officer a wide, innocent smile. Toharu's big sparkling eyes soothed the lecturer’s heart somewhat.

Goten fumbled in his pocket and produced the note for the lecturer. The man’s eyes slid quickly over the note, before he tossed it back to Goten. The note slapped against Goten's chest.

“Next time go to sleep in the last row!” he bellowed. “And you,” he finished, as he turned to Ario, “three hundred push-ups for speaking without permission!” Before turning his back, the officer cast his eyes over Toharu's innocent face again.

Goten watched Ario do his penance push-ups in the corner of the auditorium. It was clear that three hundred was only a warm-up for Ario – he got to two hundred and fifty without breaking a sweat. Goten sighed...he owed Ario three hundred push-ups. He wondered if Ario liked beer, whiskey or vodka.

Goten turned his head to look at Toharu. He thought that Toharu might be angry with him, but it seemed that Toharu didn’t have time for that – his eyes were locked on Ario’s backside.

Goten turned back to idly follow the lecturer, who walked back and forth at the front of the auditorium. Bored, Goten let his mind drift. He thought back to a conversation he and Kyon shared this morning. Kyon had mentioned an officers' club. Maybe we should try for that today, Goten thought, that is, if we're all still alive after all this drilling.

ooOoOoOoo

Goten wiped the sweat from his forehead, his dirty hands leaving a wide muddy track on his brow. His chest was bare, his uniform wrapped around his waist, his tail lay on his uniform. It was unbearable in the kitchen. In the morning, the air didn't warm up right away; now, it was hot as hell.

Goten looked at his watch and sighed in disappointment; only ten minutes had passed since he last looked at it. It was only six P.M., and he still needed to sit here until seven o'clock tonight. He hoped that they wouldn’t have any night-training, or he’d have to come back to peel these damned potatoes again.

The other guys also seemed to be oppressed by heat, humidity and smell. They had been talkative at first, but then their words exhausted themselves. The only thing audible over the sound of clanging pot-tops, frying pans, and running feet was the sound of peelers scratching off potato skins.

But, all things must come to an end, and Goten was unbelievably glad about that. He washed his hands and, feeling as if he had gained twenty kilograms, left the kitchen and went to his barracks.

Potatoes, tomatoes, several wrapped meat cuts and onions fell onto the bunk when Goten lifted his uniform top. Soon there was a knock on his door, and the man from the kitchen Goten had been peeling potatoes with entered. He was carrying a pot he had pinched that morning, several potatoes, and a pile of cabbage leaves he “privatized” that evening.

Goten grinned at the guy. He got a knife from his backpack, and they both went into the mess. After cutting and getting everything into the pot, they noticed that they had forgotten salt. Goten ran off to get it. He hadn’t been too sure that he’d find the guy and the pot after he got back, but to his surprise Goten found the chap waiting for him.

Daram entered the room. “Where did you get real food?” Daram demanded as soon as the pleasant scent from the pot caught his nose. He looked at the two men, who had a steaming pot between them. They were stuffing their faces with something that smelled wonderful.

Goten raised his head from the pot and finished chewing. “We got some stuff from the kitchen.”

Daram approached the table and the pot, but then Goten’s friend started munching even faster and the food was gone in two seconds. Daram rolled his eyes and plopped onto his bunk.

“If an officer or one of the elites stopped you, and potatoes started rolling out of your ass, you’d never survive here…” he said. “All they need is one reason... and most of them don’t even need that…”

Goten gulped. “Seriously? It’s just a few damned potatoes...”

“Here people die for less. Where the hell do you think you are...in a beauty salon? It’s the fucking Army.” Daram stood up and started looking for his towel, intending to have a shower. “Hide that pot until after Roland has come and gone – that bitch will squeal on you in no time,” he said, as he walked towards the door. “And Kyon is also a sly fox; I wouldn’t trust him too much.”

“Who the heck is he?” Goten’s colleague in crime asked, blinking at the door. “Do you think he was serious?”

Goten licked his spoon clean and tossed it into the empty pot. “I think we need to hurry up and wash that pot,” he said. “And next time I’ll seriously think before endangering my life over something like potatoes.”

ooOoOoOoo

Kyon came back shortly after Goten’s comrade-in-pots left. Kyon silently sniffed the air, and a confused expression appeared on his face. He informed Goten that his friends had been looking for him in the canteen. Goten wondered what they wanted – but after seeing how carefully Kyon moved not to hurt his sprained muscles and hearing Kyon’s story about the torture they had gone through during tonight's drill, he discarded the thought of going to the officers' club.

Later, Goten and Kyon went to the showers. It was the first time Goten went there all day. They climbed down to the first floor to reach the showers that were shared by the two stores. After turning right, they passed the stairwell and went down a long shabby corridor to the very end. They approached a door nearly rotted by the humidity.

Goten stopped, confused, as Kyon held his hand out and pressed a finger to his lips. Kyon motioned with his head to the ajar door. Goten slowly approached the door and looked through the crack. His face blazed crimson. There were two guys making out. Concentrating on the sight, Goten didn’t even realize Kyon vanished from behind him.

Several seconds later, Goten heard a rustle from behind him and saw a couple of guys standing there. The first one motioned for Goten to get away from the crack, and when he did, they squeezed themselves to the door. Confused, Goten turned to look at Kyon who was gesticulating to and shushing another random passerby. The guy grinned excitedly, fumbled in his pockets, stuck a coin in Kyon’s hand and ran past Goten and to the door.

Several seconds passed. An abrupt shout came from the showers, and the show was finished. The laughing crowd burst through the door and surrounded the flushed and embarrassed pair. Goten passed them all and wordlessly turned to the most distant stall in the corner. He turned on the water, adjusted the temperature, tossed his clothes on the windowsill and started his shower.

ooOoOoOoo

Kyon dropped into his bunk, and slept like the dead as soon as they got back to their room. Goten and Daram followed his example.

Goten shifted in his sleep, disturbed, when Roland came back around midnight and slammed the door shut. The room was soon awash with the smell of alcohol.

“…the fuck?” Goten pried his eyes open as the door flew open again and shouts followed.

“Night training! Move, sissies! Into the yard, now!”

“Second-years…” Daram yawned and turned over after the second-in-command tried to get him out of bed. Goten and Kyon quickly pulled their uniforms on.

“I knew it would be a pain in the ass to live with first-years…” Roland groaned, pulling the cover on his ears to block the noise. “But no…someone had to fuck up the records and put us here with those two idiots…” he murmured.

“Shut up or I’ll throw you out for several laps around the base with them,” Daram said, letting out a loud yawn, falling asleep almost instantly.

ooOoOoOoo

The fifth, sixth and seventh squads of red-eyed men stared at their drill sergeant, who informed them of the obvious – there would be no peace this night. The sergeant’s mood worsened when Goten waved his proof of immunity in his face. The sergeant smacked Goten several times with his notebook. He also kicked Goten's behind several times for good measure as he sent him to the kitchen.

Goten pushed the kitchen door open and froze on the spot, as did the eight females that were there. Goten looked around for something heavy. Even if females were a rarity and had a different status in society, he was against being killed by the savages.

“We are here for kitchen duty, same as you,” the ringleader who had initiated the attack on Goten said. “Now why don't you put that hammer down, before I bash your skull in? This time the shaii won't be able to save your sorry ass if you don't.”

“We’ll see about that,” Goten moved forward, clenching a hammer that the cooks used for crushing bones. But he faltered when his eyes fell on the elite’s bandaged tail. It was broken in the same place as his. With his eyes he indicated her tail. “What’s this?”

The female just snorted, leaving Goten confused. Did someone do the same thing to this female? There were also no rumors. What the hell happened? She mentioned the shaii…was it the superior’s doing? Did he find him there in the female barracks? Did he punish them by sending them here? Did he break her tail? But why would the shaii help…?

But they were all square now. They did not seem to be eager to get into another conflict. Fine with him. He was not the one to get into meaningless fights either. Goten’s look fell on the rest of the females. He wondered how long their kitchen duty was, and hoped it was long enough.

“So…” Goten tossed the hammer back onto the table. “You are second-years, right?”

The leader’s eyes slid over Goten. The elite flashed him a dirty look, but nodded. She recognized Goten’s question as a truce, sat back to where she had been sitting before, and continued peeling potatoes. Goten scratched his bald head and sat down a bit farther from the females.

Most of the females were elites, but there were also several second-classes, which meant that they were very skilled and had unique abilities.

Because of the contagion from Planet Yasei, females became a rarity on Vegeta-sei. The deadly virus worked fast; it spread with the help of one of the hormones produced by the female body. The virus wasn’t dangerous to the male population, but due to the dramatic decrease of females, the Saiyan population had begun to thin.

To restore and increase the population – and also to keep the females safe – drastic measures were taken. Most of the female population were turned into reproduction machines. All third-classes, who were the most susceptible to the virus, were held indoors. They constantly received treatment and produced children. It was similar to a factory – it was a rare thing when a female knew her children. The records were all there, the children were given the surnames of their fathers, but most of them grew up in children’s homes or with their fathers. Most of them never saw their mothers again.

Some of the lucky second-classes managed to escape the fate if they were gifted with such talents like programming, constructing, tactics, or operating war machines.

Elite females had it the easiest of all. They were equal to men and had the same rights. But as soon as they were useless to the military (as in, they got maimed or crippled), they became no better than a third-class rated female.

The classes were never mixed unless it happened accidentally, but personal acts were prohibited. The perpetrators were usually punished, even executed.

There were exceptions, though – in farther lands, where the power of the Capital weren’t that strong, the Saiyans led their lives as they used to lead them hundreds of years ago – they lived in families or packs.

Goten was born into one of those families. He didn’t know much about the early life of his mother, only that she eloped with his father from the building she was kept in – that much he had heard from his elder brother. The escape went smoothly, and Bardock’s surname was never mentioned, and it was that which kept them all safe.

Gohan was his parents' firstborn, then Goten arrived after that. Something went wrong during his birth, and his mother died, leaving his father to take care of two children. Goten knew that his father had never forgiven himself for their mother's death. He believed that if he hadn’t taken her from the Capital, she’d still be alive – there, they had much better means and she’d have never gotten into a situation like that.

Goten knew his father was right. But he also knew that – even though she knew that she’d surely die – his mother escaped with his father, anyway. Goten couldn’t imagine himself living a life like that, and he couldn’t imagine his mother even wanting that. He was almost too scared to even think about it, and every single day thanked whoever was in the high skies that he had been born male.

Goten’s gaze shifted to the females. Half of the females sat along the wall, the others opposite them, forming a circle of sorts. It seemed that female elites and second-classes held together. It was slightly strange, but the purpose of it was clear – solidarity was a good thing when one wanted to survive in a place like this. It was exactly the same tactics he was currently using.

ooOoOoOoo

“Oh God,” Kyon groaned, dropping onto his bunk, his raw muscles protesting against the sudden movement with all their might. “A monster...he's a monster...” he exhaled into his pillow before dozing off.

Goten woke up ten minutes later when the sirens went off. Mindlessly, he sat down and looked through the window. The sun was just rising through the thick mist, and as cold as it was when he walked back to the barracks thirty minutes prior. His tired mind did a primitive calculation, and he knew that he had slept for about one hour and fifty minutes overall.

“You look buggered,” Daram said to Goten, as he jumped into his uniform.

“Just fuck off…” Goten sighed. “Kyon, get up!” Goten called out to him in an effort to wake him up. He started shaking Kyon by his shoulders when he didn't respond to his shouts.

Kyon’s bloodshot eyes opened a crack to look at Goten. Goten simply dragged Kyon out of the bunk as his eyes closed again.

“Just kill me…” Kyon groaned, picking himself up from the floor. “No, break my tail. That way I could go peel potatoes and sit on my ass like you all day.”

“Move it...move it, you ladies, or you’ll be late,” Daram said, before he left the room. Roland followed him.

Goten and Kyon got in formation with barely any time to spare. Their drill sergeant gave them a murderous glare, and Kyon groaned under his breath, as he knew perfectly well he was going to get it for this. The rest of the squad didn’t look any better than Kyon did. There were some who could barely stand on their feet and swayed with each strong gust of wind.

When the mingle-mangle of savars started their usual morning run around the base, their voices squeaking like beaten rabbits, Goten’s eyes found Ario and Toharu. Although from different squads – Toharu was in the fifth and Ario in the sixth - the Saiyans had somehow managed to intermingle in the seventh squad. They were chatting away, both seemed unaffected by the night’s training. Toharu waved at him, and Goten waved back. He immediately felt better - he was glad that the two Saiyans were fine.

There were five additional Saiyans in the kitchen this morning. One of them had sprained his ankle during last night's training, another had his wrist broken by his roommate, the third had a concussion when he hit his head on a barrier he was supposed to climb over, and the next two were barely alive at all.

Goten’s hands were stained brown and yellow from all the peeling, and now his hands looked gangrenous. He wondered if the stain would ever wash off in this lifetime.

While working, Goten listened to the guys talk about last night's training. It appeared that they had ran circles around the base and did push-ups and ran some more. Goten wondered when the battle simulations would begin, and when they would learn how to use night vision weapons.

They received preliminary training at his paramilitary school, but they weren’t given any weapons or mechanics. Running in circles around his school had also been a very important part of their daily lives, so Goten wasn’t afraid of that. He was good at running...and running away.

Two hours passed quickly, and Goten went to the canteen to have his breakfast. This time it was cereal that barely provided him basic nutrition. Goten took his bowl and went to look for Ario and Toharu. After passing several rows of tables he heard Toharu’s sonorous laugh somewhere on his left. He went in the direction, and soon found the two Saiyans seated next to each other. Goten was a bit surprised to see Kyon sitting at Ario's side. He wondered whose initiative it was.

“So, how did it go?” Goten asked, settling himself next to Toharu. He was rewarded with Toharu’s tired smile and a shrug.

“I’m finished. No more…” Kyon groaned. “The fucker is going to kill us!”

“Well, yeah, you look half-dead,” Ario agreed, sniffing his cereal suspiciously. He stirred it with his spoon. “What the heck is this?” he sniffed his bowl again. “How can you eat this?” he looked at Toharu then at Kyon.

Toharu shrugged. “It’s better than dying of starvation. Just don’t breathe while eating,” he advised. “What the heck do they do with that food in the kitchen?” he asked, as he looked at Goten, who was trying to swallow his first spoon.

“Believe me – you don’t want to know.” Goten looked at his spoon closely, afraid that the frightening, stinking gray mass might attack him. Slowly, he mentally prepared himself to filch from the kitchens again.
ooOoOoOoo

Fatigue won, and the whole auditorium slept. Goten thankfully joined in. The lecturer was pissed, and tried to force the whole auditorium do push-ups. Toharu “accidentally” lost his shirt and ripped his trousers while doing them. The lecturer spent twenty minutes staring at Toharu’s ass. Meanwhile, the whole auditorium slept on the floor. At the end of the lecture Toharu demanded that the auditorium would at least buy him a drink for his self-sacrifice. No one heard him, because everyone was asleep.

The next lecture did not go as smoothly. Toharu was tired after doing push-ups and fell asleep first. He ended up doing five hundred more push-ups in front of the auditorium.

When the lectures finally ended, everyone went to the yard, and Goten went to the kitchen.

ooOoOoOoo

After kitchen duty, Goten filled his shirt with various goods. He was walking back to his barracks, when he thought he heard something suspicious. He walked over to the 4th barracks and looked around the corner. Three elites were beating a second-class. The scene was morbid. The helpless guy bounced like a doll from one elite to another, took all their punches and kicks, powerless to do anything.

Crap, crap, crap, Goten chanted in his head. Nobody had noticed him yet, and he considered silently sneaking past the gang – he had nothing to do with this, after all. He hadn't even met the guy they were working over. This was not his business. That half-conscious second-class lying on the asphalt and bleeding all over the place was not his problem. Not at all.

“Why don’t you just leave him? He’s already half-dead,” Goten addressed the three elites. He kept himself from flinching as three sets of eyes concentrated on him. The thought that he was a complete idiot crossed his mind, but was soon forgotten as one of the elites approached him.

Goten was just in time to block a punch to his head. He jumped aside and raised his hands. “I don’t want any trouble,” he said, as he shook his head.

“You should have thought about that before interfering. You probably wanted us to show you what happens when you interfere with an elite's business.” The elite charged at Goten, sneering.

“Not really,” Goten drawled, and took a careful step back. He was in big trouble.

The elite’s leg shot out to kick Goten in the stomach but Goten swiftly avoided it. He successfully blocked the rest of the attacks, which surprised both Goten and his attacker.

The other two elites forgot the unconscious guy, and joined their friend to help teach Goten a lesson. Goten felt cornered. He had pissed off the elites. His back was nearing the hind wall of the 4th barracks. He knew he was helpless and cursed himself for his stupidity once again.

The unseen punch to Goten’s head made him see stars. He somehow managed to deflect the following kick, but one of the elites used that opportunity to ram his fist into Goten's stomach. The punch squashed the potatoes and tomatoes he carried. Goten yelped in pain and doubled over, gasping for air. The knee to his face left his nose bleeding; he collapsed onto the wall behind him.

“Oh, crap!”

Goten raised his bleary eyes to see Ario and Toharu standing at the corner. Goten spat out blood, and took his chance. He struck the nearest elite with a punch to the back of the head, while the guy glared at the second-classes. The elite cried out in pain and grabbed his head. Goten kicked him in the stomach, tossing him several meters away. The other two elites charged at him.

Goten jumped aside to avoid a kick to his head. He avoided the second elite's fist to the stomach.

“We’ll take these two on! Go get the other one!” Ario shouted, motioning with his head to the elite Goten had tossed to the ground earlier. Ario ran up to the elite that tried to punch Goten, jumped into the air, and kicked the elite with both feet. The elite slammed face-first into the wall.

Toharu sighed, passed the semi-conscious elite that Goten had made fly, and approached the elite trying to break Goten's skull. Toharu pushed Goten aside, ducked the fist that was aimed at his head, and rammed his foot into the elite’s chin. The blow sent the elite sprawling to his back on the asphalt. Goten blinked at the short Saiyan’s back.

Goten never expected that Ario would help him, and expected Toharu to join in even less, but he had no time to wonder. His opponent had already gotten his bearings back and was on his feet, intent on ending Goten's life.

Goten thought about ki-blasts – he was rather good with them, but then remembered that it was strictly forbidden to raise ki in the base. It was allowed only during training and emergencies. Any powering up would get him severely punished or even expelled. Expelled would be good, but punished…? Wait, did he really want to get expelled? What would he do after afterwards, if he got expelled?

He had no time for this.

Goten ducked a high kick and swept his opponent off his feet at the same time. Then he dropped to his side and elbowed him in the gut, eliciting a grunt of pain from his opponent. A swift kick to the elite’s temple took care of the matter. Leaving the man unconscious, Goten ran to the other four grappling men.

Ario tried to kick the elite but missed, and got punched in the gut for his trouble. He was just not fast enough to catch up with the elite. This was where second-class, third-class, and elites differed – in speed and power. Nonetheless, Toharu seemed to be good at predicting his opponent’s moves. Goten passed Ario, who grabbed at his stomach and fell to his knees. Goten jumped to the side to avoid an elite’s kick.

Distracted by his lover’s painful cry, Toharu was almost knocked out himself. At the last second, he managed to duck the fist aimed at his head and retaliate with a punch of his own.

From the side, Goten kicked the elite in the stomach, then kneed him in the chin. There was a loud crack, as he dislocated the elite's jaw. Goten punched the side of the elite's head, and jumped aside to avoid his kick. Goten's own kick caught the elite in the midsection, and tossed him several meters away. From the corner of his eye, Goten saw Ario and Toharu beat the crap out of the third elite between them.

From the pavement the elite blinked at Goten’s boot above his head.

“Move, and I’ll crush your head,” Goten warned after the elite squirmed. “I swear I’ll splash your fucking brains all over the macadam,” he said through gritted teeth.

The elite eyed the sole of Goten's boot for several seconds, then nodded.

“If I hear that you reported this...if you spread rumors through the base...if you ever approach us or this guy ever again...I will hunt you three down, and kill you. Anywhere, anytime – I’ll cut you open and make salami out of your entrails. Got it?”

Goten waited for the elite to nod, then smashed his booted foot into his head, knocking him out.

“I think we are in big trouble,” he said, after turning to Ario and Toharu. They stood behind him, watching him with unreadable expressions on their faces, the unconscious and bloodied elite at their feet. Goten could hardly believe that these two second-classes were more than enough to take care of one elite. Usually it took at least five. “They are gonna kill us…”

“You owe us a drink,” was all that Ario could say, as he rubbed his abused gut. “Something’s running from your stomach…” he eyed Goten’s uniform in alarm.

Goten looked at the tomato juice running down his trousers and chuckled, brushing at his bloodied nose with his palm. He wiped it on his uniform. He was alive, but he was going to spend this day with an empty stomach.

“Thanks,” Goten nodded to Ario and Toharu.

“I think we’ve hindered more than helped. We are really going to get for this,” Toharu said. “How do you think…will they break our tails first, or kill us outright?” he mused, walking over to the unconscious elite. He wiped his dirty boots on the elite’s clothes.

Ario just shrugged.

They looked at the staggering second-class who had finally regained consciousness, and managed to find his feet. Goten turned in the direction of the officers' club.

“Aren’t you going to take him to sickbay?” Ario asked.

“Who...him?” Goten turned back to look at the dazed second-class. The second-class gaped at them, his gaze flitting between the three elites lying unconscious on the asphalt, and them. Goten shrugged. “Heck no, I don’t even know him.”

The three of them turned in the direction of the club.

“I told you that this third-class gets himself into the stupidest situations possible,” Ario said to Toharu.

Toharu shook his head. “He can’t be a third-class.”

“You saw with your own eyes that, despite Goten’s power and speed, he’s an idiot. Who the fuck else would have interfered with three elites to save a guy he's just met?” Ario muttered, knowing perfectly well that Toharu was right.

“The same goes for you…” Toharu nudged him in the side.

“And why the heck did YOU interfere?” Ario chuckled. “Although it’s nice to know that you are concerned for my ass.”

“That’s right, sweetheart. It’s because your ass is the place you do most of your thinking with,” Toharu said, punching him in the side.
TBC
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