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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
- 2
- 3
- 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z – it belongs to its respective owners. Neither do I own Final Fantasy. 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 [Trunks Vegeta]
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: The swords used here are taken from Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children.

Barracks

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by kissychan1101, Christine and Veronica ^_^

Part 3

“Shaii, sir?”

The shaii raised his eyes from the report he had been writing. He cast a look at his subordinate, who had just entered the room. “Problems?” the shaii asked, going back to his paperwork.

The shyu squirmed as the temperature in the room dropped five degrees. Ever since he had been caught stealing cigars from the shaii’s room, he had lost the favor of his superior.

“Sir, there’s a strange issue with one freshman’s records,” he tried tentatively.

The shaii’s blue-eyed stare pierced right through the shyu’s skull, and the temperature in the room fell another ten degrees closer to the freezing-point. “Records, you say?” the shaii repeated, lowering his head to his report again. “Who the hell do you think I am...a secretary?”

The shyu gulped loudly. “Yes, sir, um…ah...I mean...no, sir! Usually I wouldn’t bother you with such a mere trifle, sir. But, sir, would you take a look? Sir?” the shyu asked hopefully. He was about to start biting on his nails and tearing his hair out, as the shaii was plainly ignoring him.

“Take a seat,” the shaii said. “I’ll take a look after I finish this.”

Suddenly it was warm in the room again. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” the shyu nodded, looking for a place to sit down. He settled on a chair by the door. For some time he fidgeted with a pile of documents he had in his hands, then raised his head to watch the lavender-haired man work.

The shaii was more than ten years younger than the shyu, but long ago everyone noticed that the shaii’s character and temper had nothing to do with his age. Most people turned into wallpaper when the shaii passed. It was not that the shaii was violent or ferocious. Quite the opposite – he was a calm and reasonable man. But he was well known for his social status, power, and occasional temper tantrums when highly displeased or provoked. The punishments were severe; they were rarely physical, but more psychological in nature. The shaii knew how to make any Saiyan’s life a living hell by pulling just the right strings. In addition to all that, there was that piercing, blue-eyed stare that was so uncommon in Saiyan society...eyes that sent chills down everyone’s spine.

The shaii was the youngest man ever to have reached such a high position so fast. It was commonly thought that it was because of his bloodline that he had advanced so quickly, but the ones who knew him well knew different. The shaii had worked hard to get the position he was in now, and people knew that he was ambitious enough not to stop there.

“Well?” the shaii pushed his finished report aside and held out his hand for the papers the shyu held. “What's wrong with that newbie?” He took the documents as the shyu approached.

“His registration documents show that he’s a third-class,” the shyu explained, while the shaii leafed through the papers. He nodded at the shaii’s incredulous look. “It’s true. His medical records indicate he’s a second-class.” He leaned closer to the desk, and pointed out the crossed-out words on the hospital registration abstract. “His drill-sergeant’s list said the same, so I thought it was a simple error. I called his previous paramilitary school, and they confirmed that he’s a third-class. When I dug deeper and called his prep school, they said the same. This guy is a third-class...”

The shaii took the document in his hand. He tapped the photo of a spiky-haired guy. “Hey, this is the one who got his tail broken. And yesterday in officers’ club… he owes me five credits, the bastard,” he drawled. He riffled through the papers then settled on the abstract from the hospital. “Ah, crap. I forgot to write a report about that,” he sighed, leaning back in his chair.

“It doesn’t seem that he changed the records himself,” the shaii said, after he finished reading the information he had on Goten Bardock. “Our operatives must have simply thought this to be a typographical error and changed the records themselves.”

He frowned and looked up at the shyu. “Listen, do not report his case any further. I’ll report this when I think it’s necessary. Now, get me all information you can find about him – his activities, his friends, his friends’ activities – everything,” he said, as he handed the documents back to the shyu.

“Yes, sir!” the shyu saluted, as he marched to the door.

“And one more thing,” the shaii said. “If you wanted those cigars so badly, you should have simply asked.”

The shyu’s face turned red but he forced himself to turn around. “Sir…may I speak freely, sir?”

The shaii nodded.

“I’m very sorry for that…ehh… I took one to try it out. I have never…” he flustered, feeling like a fool and not really understanding why he was trying to explain himself. Making excuses was making him look even more stupid.

The shaii chuckled and gave a dismissing wave to the flushed shyu. “Doesn’t really matter,” he chuckled again at the shyu’s relieved face. “Just ask next time.”

The shyu pressed his fist to his chest, bowed his head and turned to the door.

“And you did look nice while smoking it,” the shaii said to the shyu’s back. “Until you choked on the smoke, that is,” he added, and chuckled at the man’s red ears and how he scurried out of the room.

ooOoOoOoo

Goten, Toharu, Ario and Kyon sat in the canteen eating their lunch. At least some of them were eating.

“Toharu, are you going to eat that?” Ario looked at Toharu’s plate, where he repeatedly stabbed a boiled potato. It was evident Toharu had no appetite.

Toharu raised his eyes to meet Ario’s hungry look. Ario’s strong, big build required much more nutrition than Toharu’s compact figure.

Toharu sighed, put his fork down, and pushed his plate over to Ario. “Said the man who was complaining about food earlier…” He rubbed his aching forehead. He had been tortured all day by an enormous hangover.

“I wasn’t hungry, then,” Ario grinned, munching Toharu’s leftovers. “But you are worrying me – you should eat more.”

“You just filched his plate, and you are telling him to eat more…” Kyon commented, looking at his own plate suspiciously. He fished out a strange looking leaf and sniffed at it. He put it back on his plate.

“When he starts playing with his food, it means he isn’t going to eat another bite,” Ario shrugged.

“I don’t play with my food,” Toharu protested.

“You were building a castle, with a carrot on the top instead of a flagpole,” Goten noted from the opposite side of the table. His nose was puffy and scratched from yesterday’s fight, his eyes were black and blue. Despite that, he felt fine.

Toharu pursed his lips in an unhappy pout. “It’s because I’ve been trying to figure something out – how we’re gonna get our asses out of the mess we have gotten ourselves into.” Toharu’s pout turned into a serious frown. “To speak frankly – we are dead. Shut up,” he pointed his index finger at Ario’s open mouth as he began to say something. “Three elites, each of them will have at least five buddies...that makes it over fifteen. Yep,” he nodded, “we are dead.”

“So it’s true?” Kyon looked at the three of them, his eyes examining Goten’s bruised and swollen face.

“What’s true?” Toharu asked, while drawing in a puddle of tea left by someone’s mug. He tried to draw a deer, then snarled at the table when the lines just melted away.

“That you three beat up three elites?”

“Ah,” Ario said, putting his spoon down, suddenly having lost his appetite.

“Gh?!” Goten choked on his tea, splashing half of it on his uniform and the table. He had never expected the news to hit the base so fast.

“Only three?” Toharu rolled his eyes derisively. “Why not make it ten or twenty? Think, think,” he said, looking at Kyon and knocking on Kyon’s bald head with his knuckles. “How could have we beaten three elites?” He pointed at himself then at Goten and Ario. “Us – beat three elites?!” He shook his head in disbelief. “It’s absolutely impossible! Just two weeks ago I got beaten by a prep school kid! I won’t even start about Ario! Even I could beat him!” He punched Ario in the shoulder to prove his point.

“Damn it! That hurts, asshole!” Ario growled at him.

“See? And I barely touched him!”

Kyon blinked. “No. But…I heard-”

“See?” Toharu repeated insistently, flashing a blinding smile at him, his innocent eyes wide. “And who is spreading those rumors about us?”

“One second-class from the tenth squad.” Confused, Kyon blinked again as Toharu’s smile stretched from ear to ear. “He said he was attacked and then…well, when he came round he saw you three and the elites were...”

After Ario and Toharu glared at him in unison, Goten swore that he would never, ever go around saving unconscious second-classes again.

“Ah, that second-class!” Toharu slammed his palm on the table as if he had suddenly remembered. The puddle of Goten’s tea splashed merrily all over the table. “Yeah, yeah. We were just walking to our barracks minding our own business when we saw a guy stumble and fall. He hit his head pretty hard and had been out for several seconds. After he came round he started mumbling about some elites or something. We told him to go to sickbay, but he didn’t want to. I think he had a screw loose,” Toharu twirled a finger at his temple.

Kyon chuckled and nodded in agreement. He knew that it was a load of bullshit – why would the second class’s body be so black and blue after hitting his head on the asphalt? Somebody had worked Goten over pretty well too, and what was that about fifteen elites? But the trio wasn’t going to talk, so he wasn’t going to push it. It pissed him off royally, though.

“Tomorrow is my last day in the kitchen,” Goten sighed. “I’m not sure if I’m sad or happy…”

Kyon thought that Goten must be mad. He would give nearly everything to have kitchen duty instead of drilling for the rest of his service here.

“Quit playing with that muck,” Ario motioned at Toharu’s wet tea-painting.

Toharu just looked at him sideways. “I’m depressed. And I have a hangover. Don’t start, or there won’t be any sex for the next two weeks.”

Ario turned his attention back to his plate and continued eating, his appetite renewed. As usual, nothing could spoil a Saiyan’s appetite longer than five minutes.

“And how was the officers’ club?” Kyon asked. “Goten came back sloshed, so I didn’t have an opportunity to ask. And how the hell did you have any energy left to even walk to it?” he looked at Toharu and Ario.

“I wasn’t sloshed!” Goten denied. “I was just very tired.”

Ario raised an eyebrow at Goten. “Really? Toharu had to carry you to your room.”

Goten’s eyes became the size of saucers. “Seriously? I don’t remember a thing…”

“Neither do I,” Toharu shrugged. “I never remember anything I do while drunk. You are lucky I carried you to your barracks and not into…I dunno…could have been female barracks.”

Goten flinched.

“Damned perv,” Ario snickered. “As if you would last two weeks without sex!”

“And where were you, hero, at the time?” Toharu snickered back.

Ario squirmed in his seat. “I passed out at the club, and they kicked me out when they closed.”

Toharu burst out laughing. “Heh, there go your promises…” Then he pursed his lips. “But why the hell did I bring Goten to his room and leave you in the club? Why wasn’t it the other way around?”

“You tell me,” Ario chuckled. “You probably planned to come back and then forgot. Actually, where did you wake up?”

Toharu blinked. Slowly, very slowly he remembered waking at the sound of sirens as the sun hit his eyes, his head hurting like mad. He turned his face to Ario, his face red with suppressed laughter. “I was lying in the middle of the field, surrounded by blaring sirens, and the savars were gathering into rows all around me. So I suppose that’s why I had no problems with moving around – I just stood up and raised my hand to say that I was present,” he laughed.

“You are not drinking anymore. No, seriously,” Ario shook his head. “Each time, each fucking time you do something like this!”

“It’s not my damned fault I have a low tolerance,” Toharu said, unable to stop laughing.

“Oh, your tolerance is just fine. To tell you the truth, it’s much better than mine,” Ario snickered. “It’s that it makes you do weird things after that.”

Goten wanted to hear what those weird things were but the siren went off and Toharu, along with Ario and Kyon, ran to the door headlong in order not to be late for the formation. Goten returned to the kitchen. This time he had been appointed to wash the dishes.

Actually he had been sloshed yesterday. And badly. There was one thing he did in the officers’ club. It was an accident really. Had he known…well… His memory of his time in the club was hazy, but he could still remember some parts.

Goten left the table in search of a lavatory. When he came back, Toharu and Ario had already gone somewhere, and left his mug of beer unattended. Goten presumed that they either went to dance or to make out. He sighed and reached out for his mug. He blinked as some longhaired guy suddenly plopped next to him and grabbed his mug.

“You are about to drink my beer,” Goten informed the purple-haired stranger. He leaned to the guy and gave him an unfriendly look.

The guy merely looked at him over the top of the mug, and took a deep draught. Goten frowned.

“Didn’t you hear what I said?” he hissed. “That drink is mine!”

“Fuck off,” the man said and gave him an indifferent blue-eyed look.

Anger boiled inside Goten. He stood up slowly. He wasn’t going to be pushed around by some half-breed asshole.

“Outside,” Goten said, motioning with his head to where he thought the door was. He was ready to tear the guy to pieces, when the guy looked at him again.

“I’m glad you are better,” the stranger finally said. “Here, buy yourself another,” he said after he dug in his pocket and tossed the money on the table.

Goten looked at the rattling coins then raised his head to give the purple-haired guy the most angered look he managed to muster. But before he could grab him by the front of his shirt, a man appeared next to them both. He saluted the purple-haired man.

“Shaii Vegeta, sir! We have visitors from Ahira base, and taisa is asking for your attendance, sir!” the man reported.

“Ah, shit,” the shaii cursed. “And here I was expecting to relax a bit. Tell him that I’ll be there in a minute; I’ll just put my uniform on,” he said to the man who saluted and quickly marched out of the club.

Silently, with his mouth tightly shut, Goten sank back into his seat. He watched the shaii finish his drink in several gulps, stand up and leave. Goten sat there and stared at the several coins the shaii had left on the table, picked them up and went to the bar to buy himself another one. After getting it, he started walking back when he heard someone shouting his name.

“Hey, Goten! Where have you been?”

With his mug filled, Goten turned to look at Toharu and Ario who were sitting at the table. Goten felt himself go pale. Oh shit. The two were waving at him, and there was his damn mug with beer standing on the table. He had mixed up the tables earlier – Toharu and Ario had been sitting at the opposite end of the club than he had been before. The prince had just bought him a drink.

ooOoOoOoo

The shaii ransacked the hills of files the shyu had brought him at the end of the day. Three minutes later he had everything sorted out before his eyes. For the fifth time he took Goten Bardock’s register in his hand. It consisted of hoards of papers, most of them being witnesses’ reports.
Father –Kakarott Bardock, third-class, private soldier.
Mother – unknown.
Class – third.
Age – 17.
Height – 1.70m.
Weight – 75kg.
Hair color – black.
Eye color – brown.
Defects - none.
Residence – Yasan.
Older brother – Gohan Bardock, third-class. Died at age 16 at Hyon Officer Training School. Cause of Death – an accident during training.

The shaii blinked at the papers. The brother also went to an officer training school? Shaking his head, the shaii continued reading the data.

Goten started attending Yasan Preparatory School when he was only seven years old, whereas other pupils entered at the age of eight. Because of this, he finished preparatory school at the age of twelve, a year younger than other pupils. After preparatory school, upon the many recommendations from his professors, Goten entered Liutek Paramilitary School.

After one year at paramilitary school Goten was taken into custody for getting into a fight with an elite from the same grade. He came out of that experience with a broken arm and leg. He was released from the custody after it was proven that the elite had been the first to attack.

The shaii flipped through the attached witnesses’ reports and skimmed them quickly. Some of them stated that Goten attacked the elite for no reason; other reports asserted that the elite had been terrorizing four classmates for a few months. One of those classmates had been Goten. The shaii pushed the reports aside, and took up Goten’s biography again.

Two months later Goten was taken into custody for taking part in the beatings of three second-class freshmen, freshly transferred from Kagano Paramilitary School. All told, there were three broken ribs and extensive medical treatment for the lot of them before they were released. Goten paid a fine for breaking the classroom door and destroying a painting.

The shaii rustled through the papers again and found the witnesses’ reports. All of them had solidly declared that the second-classes had tried to establish a new hierarchy at school and started with a few third-classes. One of them appeared to be Goten. Grinning, the shaii lowered the reports back to the table.

Five months later, Goten spent a few days in custody again for a gang attack on the previous elite and his friend from the same grade. It all ended with a fine for a demolished wall and a row of destroyed toilets.

The prince shuffled the papers in his hand. Some of the reports claimed that Goten had formed a gang, and ambushed the elite and his friend with no less than ten people. Other reports said that the elite and his friends had tried to take their revenge on Goten and a few people who knew Goten came to his rescue.

A month later, Goten was taken into custody for getting into a fight with five second-classes and two elites. He spent two months in a hospital because of multiple injuries. After six months he was taken into custody for a gang attack on the same five second-classes and two elites.

And finally, he finished Liutek Paramilitary School at the head of his class, received commendations from almost all lecturers, and was admitted to Hataro Officer Training School.

The shaii turned the papers over several times but that was it – no further explanations as to why or how. The documentation seemed to be fine with all the stamps and signatures of the superintendent and the secretary. Except that it was not fine...nowhere near fine. Goten Bardock shouldn’t be here, and from all places where he should be, one could also think of jail.

The shaii took another sheaf of papers with Kakarott Bardock’s photo paper-clipped to the front of it. Goten Bardock looked nearly the same as his father, only younger.

Kakarott Bardock,
Class – third.
Occupation – private soldier.
Age – 45.
Height – 1.90m.
Weight – 95kg.
Hair color – black.
Eye color – brown.
Defects: innate migraine – no special treatment needed.
Residence – Yasan.
Mate – unknown.
Father – Alysum Bardock.
Mother – unknown.
Offspring: Gohan, male, third-class, deceased - cause – an accident during training; Goten, male, third-class, 17 years old, a savar at Hataro Officer Training School.

The shaii skipped the information about Kakarott’s education and stopped at the list of about a hundred accomplished companies and missions. Those were nothing minor, but still…the man had brilliant survival skills. Were he at least a second-class, by this time he would have already been a captain.

The shaii pushed the papers to the side and took a look at the other registers. The most interesting was that of Toharu Amatachinna’s. The short, longhaired and handsome youth that looked from the picture with big innocent eyes seemed to be an incarnation of gentleness and mildness. Sure. Toharu had been expelled from his first preparatory school for setting it on fire while drunk. He had almost died from alcohol poisoning and spent a month in hospital. Then he had made a public announcement at school accepting his fault and asking for forgiveness but his expulsion had not been revoked and had to change his prep school. After finishing it, he started attending Horian Paramilitary School.

Toharu was a five-time martial arts champion of extramural preparatory and paramilitary schools competitions. There were no further incidents and no records about Toharu for two years after getting into the paramilitary school except his achievements in martial arts. Problems started when his father had to move, and Toharu changed his paramilitary school and started attending Liutek Paramilitary School. Once, he was taken into custody for beating his teacher almost to death. He later accused the teacher of sexual harassment. He was taken into custody three times for getting into fights with other pupils, and every time he was released after investigations had showed that others were at fault.

The shaii looked at the dates and realized that it was about the same time Ario Krameran had been transferred to Liutek Paramilitary School and started attending the same class as Toharu. After that Toharu seemed to keep himself at a low profile again.

Ario Krameran would have been a normal savar if not for the fact that he was a son of the taisa at Kolmera base, Daison Krameran. Very few people didn’t know the man. Ario was also a three-time champion of extramural ki-fighting competition when he attended preparatory and paramilitary school.

The shaii scratched his chin, interested. It seemed that Ario and Toharu met at one of those competitions. They were in different categories, but they had noticed each other. Later Ario had transferred himself into the same paramilitary school as Toharu, and even into the same class – it must have been a piece of cake with such an influential father as Ario’s. All in all, Ario was the type who knew what he wanted and made every effort to get it.

After that Ario’s profile expanded, and incidents went from being almost non-existent to an almost everyday occurrence. Toharu may have kept a low profile, but Ario was taken into custody about ten times. There were numerous incidents involving broken bones, loose jaws, missing teeth and cracked skulls. Each time he was released from custody without any penalties or questioning. The youth clearly had been using his father’s influence.

The shaii crossed his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair. What the heck was going on? A third-class with the longest list of attacks on elites and second-classes he had ever seen had been accepted into an officer training school and had been accommodated with two second-years. One was a guy with a little brother’s complex, and the other a veiled masochist. The third…already in prep school, Kyon had been well known for his calm, calculated character and had never gotten into any fights. All things considered, theirs was not a room – it was an oasis.

Toharu and Ario. Those two were able to take on at least the third of the base on their own...except elites, of course. Either Goten was a damn lucky guy or a genius. Perhaps he just had no idea about what was going on around him. The guy had accidentally walked in on a bunch of females and had his tail broken. Then he had been reported for stealing food from the kitchen and his credit card was debited a hundred credits, which no one had informed him of yet. Poor guy. And just today there were three complaints filed from the three elites Goten Bardock, Toharu Amatachinna and Ario Krameran had beat up and threatened. The complaint was going to be processed in several hours. Those three idiots were going to get it, hard and painfully; perhaps only Ario would get away unscathed. But after the rumors started spreading about Goten being a third-class…

The shaii stared at the ceiling, particularly interested in the largest of the many stains there. He rocked back and forth in his chair cheerfully, and wondered if he should do something about those three idiots.

ooOoOoOoo
Goten was dreaming about potatoes. He was in the kitchen. He was peeling potatoes, but the heaps didn’t lessen, the opposite – they kept growing and growing. Goten was peeling and peeling. The foul smell from pots was making his eyes water and his throat hurt. And still he peeled. But finally the pile started lessening, and he saw boots amongst the potatoes. Those were Gohan’s, the ones he had seen Gohan wear when he came back from the officer school and had been staying at home for several days.

He gazed at the boots and wondered how Gohan had appeared under the pile. Had they been playing hide-and-seek? He put his peeler aside and started digging Gohan out. But it had appeared that there were only his military boots. Goten pulled them out from under the potatoes and sat down on the kitchen floor while holding them in his hands and looking at them.

Where had Gohan gone to?

ooOoOoOoo

Goten was woken up by the sirens. He sat up in the bed and watched his roommates scurry around, dressing. He didn’t feel scared or worried, just a little chilly. He had those dreams again, the same kind as those since the day his father said that Gohan had died.

As their father was always busy with missions, he was mostly raised by his brother. Gohan was more of a parent to him than their real father was. He had realized that only later, several months after Gohan’s death. It was then when he started picking the fights with elites. Elites were the ones who had killed his brother. Month after month, he had suffered silently, grinding his teeth like everyone else. After his brother’s death, something had snapped inside him. Hate, anger and wrong had pent up, and he let it all out. He had not even cared if he was killed or excluded from the paramilitary school. He just knew that he didn’t want to put up with all that shit anymore. Actually he had expected he’d be kicked out.

But somehow it always calmed down, and he had found himself amongst guys who had insensibly gathered around him during his misdemeanors and considered him the leader. It hadn’t been a gang as defined by everyone else, it had been only a bunch of idiots who had been hanging around with him. Goten hadn’t even been aware of that and hadn’t cared about any of them. He had just done what he wanted to do... So the time had passed, and then he got that letter telling him that he had to go to Hataro Officer Training School.

His world was turned upside down once again. And somehow, he was relieved and scared at the same time. He may have gone into a different officer's school, but he was following Gohan. He didn’t think that he was getting any closer to the truth of his brother’s death, but somehow it made his conscience lighter. His brother had done so much for him, meant so much to him, and...

Was he feeling guilty because his brother had died and he – not worthy of his brother’s breath – still went on living? Was he glad to be sent to the place where his brother had died? Did he want to die? Was he greedy and selfish to want to die in the same way his brother had died?

Yes.

He had figured the answers out on the evening when he, Toharu, and Ario beat the crap out of those three elites. He wasn’t really scared, wasn’t really afraid that the three would kill him. When Toharu and Ario showed up, he didn’t really have any other option except fighting the elites. He alone was fine. He owed his life to no one, not even to his father, but those two…

And…and who was he to even dare compare himself to his brother? Who was he to just simply let himself be stupidly killed by the same bastards who had killed his brother? And who was he to risk his life after his brother raised him with so much care?

He wasn’t sure why he understood that, and why it suddenly became all clear to him. It happened after he met Ario and Toharu, when he realized he did not want for them to be hurt in that fight. He had the “gang” at the paramilitary school, the guys who cared for him. But he didn’t accept them then, wasn’t ready to accept anyone into his brother’s place. Why those two were able to break through, and why did he let them?

Or maybe it was simply enough of grievance, and his soul just wanted to let it go. Maybe time really cured all wounds? But he swore to himself one thing – no matter how much time it would take, no matter whom he would have to move from their warm seats – he was going to turn this fucking planet upside down to solve his brother’s death. For that, he had to stay alive.

ooOoOoOoo
“Shaii Vegeta, sir?” the shyu stuck his head into the room after knocking. He stepped in. The shaii was cleaning his desk from piles of papers and getting ready for his long awaited day off.

The shyu walked over to the table after the shaii motioned for him to come over. The shyu’s fingers tightened on the papers he was carrying. He hated to be a messenger with bad news.

“Sir, one of the lecturers got sick. The doctors think that it’s a deadly disease,” the shyu started.

The shaii nodded, unconcerned. He tossed his uniform onto the chair and started looking for his denim jacket. The shyu turned to stare through the window as his superior started taking his trousers off.

“So about that lecturer,” the shyu cleared his throat at the shaii’s blue boxers.

“Do I know him?”

“No, sir, not personally. He has been newly transferred here.” The shyu cleared his voice. “There’s no one who can replace him. The lecture is about the swords and there’s supposed to be some practice after the theory. And as sir is almost the only one in the base who has at least some idea about swords…”

By the time the shyu finished, the shaii’s glare had turned lethal. Blue ice locked the shyu’s legs and he could feel his teeth chattering in cold.

The shaii inhaled deeply. “Just let them do more running around the base,” he said slowly, his voice indicating it would be not wise to continue this topic.

“Ehhh…” the shyu’s teeth chattered. “It’s not really possible, sir. The schedule is tight and until we find someone to replace him, and we presume it would take about a week or even more. And later they will have the examination, so…if it were only theory, but it’s also practice…ehhh…” He stepped away from that blue frost.

The shaii slowly walked over to his desk and sat down. A low growl was heard from his throat. “What fucking squads are those?”

“Weeell,” the shyu stepped backwards even further. “All ten of them… First come the 5th, 6th and 7th squads… Then they have practice and then they go off with their drill sergeant, and then the 1st, 2nd, 3rd and 4th squads come, and then the 8th, 9th and 10th…”

The shaii gave a searching look at the shyu. “So basically, you are telling me that I will have to baby-sit all those fucking squads for a month?!” he yelled. “This isn’t in my job description!” he groaned, closing his eyes. “Whose fucking order is that?!

“The taisa’s…”

“Ah. Crap,” the shaii said. “So when do I start?”

ooOoOoOoo

The whole auditorium went silent as – instead of their usual lecturer – a lavender-haired guy walked through the door. He wore a black denim jacket, torn blue jeans, and carried a huge sword on his back. In dead silence the guy climbed down the short stairs, leaned the sword on the wall and stood in front of the auditorium. The whole auditorium startled as the heavy book was slammed down onto the table.

Goten jumped to his feet and saluted first. From their seats, Toharu, Ario and Kyon raised their heads to look at him as if he were mad. Goten thought that he had noticed a short smirk on the shaii’s lips that was directed at him.

“Stand up!” the lavender-haired guy yelled. “Godfuckingdammit, you worthless bunch of losers! Because of your stupid lesson and your even stupider lecturer, I had to quit my day off and come to this stinking class to beat some shit into your heads!” The storming blue eyes swept through the auditorium. “And I fucking hate it!”

The auditorium stared. The pony-tailed guy was no older than them. Besides, he was a half-breed.

“Where is the salute to your superior?!” the guy yelled at the auditorium.

Goten cleared his voice. “Shaii Vegeta, sir!” He straightened even more. “With all respect, sir! You have forgotten to introduce yourself and you are wearing no uniform, sir.”

The lavender-haired guy looked down at his clothes. “Ah, crap. I knew I forgot something.” He cursed. “I’m Shaii Vegeta!” He jabbed his thumb at his chest. “Anyway, you worthless piece of rot!” he proceeded with yelling. “If I don’t see you salute now, each of you will spend this day cleaning the lavatories and digging trenches with no food for three days!”

The auditorium turned completely mute then the scuffling of feet was heard and all hands rose as one to their chests, and the heads were bowed. “Sir!” the voices rang as one.

“Sit the fuck down, now!” the prince barked. He took a list of the savars. He began to take roll-call.

“What the hell!?” he cursed five minutes later. “This will take half an hour! You!” he stuck his index finger at Toharu. “Check if everyone is present!” he tossed the list to Amatachinna who saluted the shaii, jumped over his desk and got to the task.

“So,” the shaii turned his attention back to the auditorium. “As far I have been informed, you lot, are supposed to learn about swords and have practice,” he said. “Now, does anyone know what this sword is called?” he pointed at the sword he had leaned on the wall earlier.

The savars’ heads turned to the sword. Some of them have seen the illustrations of the sword in their course-books at paramilitary schools but none of them remembered the name. Knees started trembling and sweat was running down the backs as the prince’s blue gaze was sliding over the auditorium looking for a victim.

“You!” the shaii stabbed his finger at Goten who startled in his seat, his eyes widening. “What is the sword called?”

Oh shit, Goten thought, I knew he was going to ask me!

Goten jumped to his feet. “It’s the Buster Sword, sir! It’s a two handed sword with two-sided edge. It requires much strength, skill and power to use one...and because of that, Buster Swords are rarely used. If wielded by an experienced warrior, however, it’s a lethal weapon.”

“Its rather impractical size makes it difficult to use it in closed spaces. There’s a specific thing about this kind of swords: the blade is set from other seven blades that are connected to the carcass that transits into the hilt. The blades can be used separate as each of them has its own handle. They are quite convenient and more practical to use in closed spaces and when the strength and power isn’t required only speed is needed. Arranged, all seven of them, they can be used to create a ki field with an explosive power, which for some races, with a lesser ki than ours, is a very convenient thing to do,” Goten finished, giving a quick bow.

The auditorium didn’t even dare blink. From Goten, their eyes and heads turned to the prince who now knew that Goten really had the best notes from his class – it was no cheat. But maybe it was just a simple luck…

“Very good,” the shaii nodded, and Goten almost fainted in relief. “Now… I see you know quite a lot. And which sword is your favorite?”

Goten swallowed loudly. “My favorite…?” He almost squeaked as the shaii’s impatient gaze locked on him. “The Masamune, sir!”

“Really?” the prince rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingertip while walking over closer to Goten. “And what’s so special about it?”

“Well, I like the very long blade. They are very effective in a battle, especially against big-sized units and its cutting range is very big. It’s quite difficult to use it indoors, however. They are not commonly used because it requires greater strength and skill to wield properly, and there are other swords that are more practical to use. But if a warrior is skilled, it is a deadly weapon. It leaves no room to approach the wielder within a five-meter radius.”

“Actually, it is named after a sword-smith praised for the quality and even mystical virtue of his katana blades… Ehhh…” Goten scratched his head, not sure what he should say more.

“You really like swords, don’t you?” the prince asked him.

That was a trap. Goten thought thoroughly what his answer should be. If he confirmed that he loved swords, he would set the whole auditorium against himself, if he lied…

“Sit down,” the shaii motioned to Goten who wondered if it had been a rhetorical question or the shaii had just wanted to make him sweat. Either way, he considered himself lucky that the prince didn’t seem to want to obliterate his life on the base…only to make it difficult.

TBC
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