Adult-FanFiction.org : Gundam, Beyblade, DBZ, FMA

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
- 4
- 5
- 6
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.

A/N 1: Officer ranks at Hataro Officer Training School [from the highest to the lowest]:
1. Taisa
2. Shaii [Vegeta Trunks]
3. Shyu
4. Captain [Tanko Laureus]
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)

Barracks

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

Part 5

That evening, as the sun began to set, Goten left for the kitchen. Maybe he could have waited for someone to come and tell him when and how he was supposed to carry out his kitchen duty but, from personal experience, he knew that the price of personal visits by higher ranking officers was a lot of shouting, a few kicks and punches.

Just two buildings away, the kitchen was only a quick walk. Since Goten had come to the base, his life had been hectic and he had not had much time to look around. In comparison to even a week ago, now he oriented himself well enough and needed no additional help to find any required building.

The base had been built about twenty years ago or more. The buildings looked old and were mostly one or two floors high. Goten guessed that, like most training camps and military schools, it was built by Nectarines. Their architecture was undistinguished and rather rough, but was durable enough to withstand hundreds of years. Just like the race itself, which, unlike many others, managed to survive countless wars with Vegeta-sei. Even slavery did not seem to bend their will.

Most Saiyan buildings were built using the manpower of other races and their technology. Nearly all of the technology Saiyans possessed had at some point belonged to someone else. Even now, the most distinguished scholars on Vegeta-sei were not Saiyans, but those of others races. The Saiyan policy was to input as less effort as possible and to overtake what others had put much effort into. Due to this policy, Vegeta-sei and its colonies spent as much time at war as at peace. Consequently, military and munitions industry were the most important fields on Vegeta-sei.

In Hataro Officer School there were about a thousand people. It was like a small village in the middle of a desert. The nearest settlement was about two hundred kilometers away. Vegeta-sei always lacked fresh-water, especially in this part of the planet. In places which were near the oceans or seas Saiyans distilled water from them. In the base they gained water by pumping it out of the ground. The water was stored in a water tower where it was heated by the constantly blazing sun and under the ground, in a huge cistern. The boring was about a hundred meters deep.

Trains did not reach here either. Fifty kilometers away from the base there was a small station at which trains stopped. All the food provisions and post were delivered from there. Very likely it was to prevent savars taking off easily. Walking fifty kilometers took much longer, stealing a tank destroyer, bashing through the gates and then trying to reach the station was also pointless as all machinery had satellite tracking devises. Flying would be an even worse idea, as anyone with a scouter would be able to pick up a ki signature.

Goten had often wondered why the twenty groups of first and second-years were called squads. Here, in School, a so-called squad consisted of forty-five savars. Usually, a squad was no more than fifteen people. On the other hand, without a doubt, even forty-five of newbie savars would never surpass a regular squad.

Twenty groups, with an average of forty-five savars in each made nine hundred people. An additional hundred was the officers and doctors working here. From nine hundred savars about a hundred were females and about fifty others were elites. There were six barracks. The officers, elites and females had their separate barracks. The rest of savars were randomly distributed among other three barracks. Goten did not know how elites lived but he doubted that they lived four persons a room.

The base was surrounded by barbed wire; seven guard towers equipped with automatic defense system were situated along the wire fence. At one end of the base there was a garage, and a huge aerospace center where savars were introduced to various planes and spaceships, and the ones having the required abilities were trained there. Naturally, it had a spaceship hangar and a launch pod. During training, the dishes in the nearby kitchen rattled and the sound was deafening. It also had its own armory where, Goten figured, air missiles and similar weapons associated with aircraft were kept.

Next to the aerospace center there stood the aforementioned kitchens, a warehouse and three barracks: the fourth, the third and the second with a nearby water tower. The base was split in the middle by a wide asphalt road where daily training took place. On the other side of the road, opposite the aerospace, there were the first barracks. Right behind it was the med-bay. The next building was a training hall. Originally, it had been built for savars to be able to carry on their training in case of a sandstorm but after starting to use a protective shield around the base, the inside walls of the training hall were lined with ki absorbing material, thus it was used for learning to manage one’s ki. Yet these few weeks he had spent in School had been solely dedicated to building up savars’ stamina and their sense of self-worthlessness, thus Goten had not been in there yet.

The fifth barracks, with Laundromats behind them, stood on the other side of the training hall. These barracks were intended only for women and Goten was sure he would always remember them with bitterness. Then followed a large one-storey building of officers’ club named Matilda. A part of this building housed a barber’s as well.

The officers’ club was not really an officers’ club, as Goten had already experienced. It was just called such as the prices there were so high that usually only officers could afford to go there to drink or eat. In fact, Matilda was a burly Saiyan’s private business, who worked day and night in his bar with the help of two waiters and a chef.

The sixth, officer barracks, were right next to Matilda. Even their doors faced each other; everything for the officers’ convenience. One could also say the same about the auditoriums, which were facing another side of the officers’ barracks and were only a few meters away from them. In the same large two-storey building with the auditoriums there was a library and the most important building in the base – the headquarters where the taisa, shaii and the rest of administrative force of the base worked.

The second armory was behind the auditoriums’ building. There were always two guards situated at the door. This was from where Goten had fetched the wooden swords. Only officers were allowed to enter it or one needed a written permission. At the time Goten was not sure he would be allowed to take swords, but as soon as the guards heard that he needed wooden ones, he was allowed to take them and one of the guards brought them to Goten from the armory.

Goten entered the kitchen, greeted the females who had come first and were hard at work, a few buckets already filled with water and peeled potatoes. With a sigh he observed mountains of potatoes by the wall and found a spare peeler. After spotting a piece of carton lying about on the floor, he kicked it closer to the females and sat down on it. During the time that had been spent together in the kitchen, a mutual agreement had been reached and there was no bitterness left. They weren’t friends, but could lead a decent conversation and share a few anecdotes.

“So what did you do this time, golden boy?” the leader asked.

Goten raised his head to give the elite a look. But he had to agree that the sarcasm was well-placed. His luck sucked. It seemed that she did not know the latest events although a few other females gave him knowing gazes. Indeed, it seemed he was becoming infamous. Damn it all to hell.

“I raised my ki during practice.”

“Darn. It’s a fine of a thousand credits, isn’t it?” the elite sympathized with him.

“Yeah,” Goten nodded. “I’m not sure I even have that much.”

“Sucks to be you. Really.”

Goten sighed. He saw one of the females lean over to the leader and start to whisper something in her ear. The elite’s eyebrows started rising then she turned to look at Goten. A few seconds later she cleared her throat.

“Well, keeping in mind whom you hit, a thousand credits is nothing more than a fart. Your luck isn’t that bad, it seems.”

Goten offered her a short smile and continued peeling potatoes. There was nothing he could think of to say. If wanted, the shaii could have broken all the bones in his body, put him into a regeneration tank, let him heal and then broken his bones again. Nonetheless, Goten was sure that the prince had an even better idea in mind.

“I bet he is working on it,” Goten muttered.

The elite leered at him. “You sure think you’re the center of the world. I doubt he has time for that.”

ooOoOoOoo

Goten waited for a few days but nothing happened. He became inclined to think that the elite had been right and he was over thinking this. If the prince had had any grudge against him, he would have already paid back. Unless this was the shaii’s revenge – right when his excuse from physical activity ended!

Huffing, Goten splashed his way through mud. It was two o’clock in the morning, it was pitch-dark, it was raining buckets, the wind was cold as hell and here they were running a third circle around the base. He could not see, but could perfectly feel that he was covered in mud from head to toe. As soon as the rain would wash it away, he would slip or someone would push him and he would roll over the ground, would be stepped and stumbled on and cause another avalanche of wet dirty bodies rolling all over the mud. It was even in their mouth and ears. Because of the pouring rain, boots splashing through the mud, it being in his ears and the constant rumble in the sky, he was not even able to hear what the drill sergeant was shouting at them. Something about this being the last circle, then them getting hot food, feather-soft beds and a hot chick.

Well, of course, it was only in his imagination.

Ten circles later, panting, cold forgotten, Goten stood in one of the rows that had formed according to the drill sergeant’s command. Through the howl of winds he was screaming something which, in best case, was heard only by the first row of savars. The bastard was wearing a waterproof cloak. Then why not swimming pool goggles? The weather was just perfect for a swim.

When the first row moved and all heads turned to watch what they were doing, Goten understood that nobody else had heard anything either. The first row was doing more running, towards the obstacle course. At least some light started to appear from the east and they were able to cross rows of tires without twisting their limbs and necks. Then came barbed wire. Goten figured that if someone had pushed him hard, he would have slipped right under and through the whole sector of it. Probably. Another thing that he figured was that very likely he would just have had chunks of meat torn out of him. Just like he could hear uniforms tearing all around him.

The walls that came later posed no trouble for him and soon he stood in the front row that had finished first. It consisted mostly of elites. The drill sergeant marched forwards and backwards along the length of the row. His eyes set on Goten who straightened immediately. He seemed to study Goten for a few seconds.

“Damn, but you still piss me off, sissy!” the drill sergeant stated before turning his attention to other savars finishing the obstacle course.

The nightly rendezvous was finally over and savars were dismissed. Goten and Kyon ran straight for the showers and it appeared that they were right to do so as a few seconds later they were filled with hustling and elbowing bodies.

Goten did not even remember how he had reached the second floor. When he woke up to the sirens blaring three hours later, he was only aware of his and Kyon’s wet and muddy uniforms scattered all over the floor. He was tired and grumpy. He shook Kyon a few times until he got up, then they dressed in their second set of uniforms and rushed to the field.

From all that bad weather during the night the only thing that was left were large puddles on the asphalt reflecting the jolly morning sun. Goten cursed softly and shielded his bloodshot eyes. It probably rained no more than two or three times a year here, and the assholes thought it very exciting to make them soak in the rain and mud. Just a beauty procedure apparently. Goten cursed again and trotted up to one of the rows.

A minute later the drill sergeant started inspection. Five people were missing after the night’s harsh training, which obviously improved his mood. He started checking the rows. Goten used the opportunity for a snooze.

“What the hell is this?!”

“Sir?” Goten straightened to all of his potential, his vertebra creaking. Without moving his head, his eyes followed the drill sergeant’s gaze, which appeared to be fixed on his left arm. The spot of interest was the sleeve.

“It’s a seam, sir!” Goten yelled out, saluting.

“I can fucking see that!” the drill sergeant yelled at him. “But it’s not a seam! It’s a damn ditch!”

Goten had no idea what to say without pissing the officer off, thus continued saluting and staring right in front of him. Well, true, his needlework was horrible, but it was not as if he could help it. The drill sergeant grunted out a few more comments then just let him off without telling him to buy a new uniform. That was good because Goten was not sure he had enough money, and the payday was still a week and a half away.

The rest of the day did not bring much excitement. The lessons were spent trying to get at least a wink of sleep and constantly failing because of lecturers shouting at them. When the lessons were finally over, he suffered another bout of drilling. When it was finally over, he returned to his room, gathered his and Kyon’s dirty clothes from the floor, checked his wallet for small change and went to the Laundromats.

There was a huge queue at the building. The victims of the night training. It was the first time Goten went to do the laundry here, and he was quite worried about what Kyon had warned him about earlier. He looked at the meandering queue again. An idea that it would be much faster if he washed the clothes with his hands in the showers crossed his mind and he went with it. But before he could leave, some ruckus in front of the queue caught his attention.

“Thirty credits?! Are you freakin’ insane?!” someone shouted.

Five elites turned to Goten who had just walked over to the door leading to the laundry. Trying to exude friendly vibes, Goten blinked at them. They looked at the wet and muddy clothes in his arms. Goten looked at the guy who was discontent at how the things were handled here. It was an undistinguished second-class newbie, his hair just starting to grow back.

“Thirty credits?” Goten repeated, drawling. “Isn’t that a bit too much?”

“Then fifty credits, asshole!” the elite who stood closest to the door with his hands in his pockets said. “And you won’t leave until you pay,” he winked at Goten.

“Fifty credits?!” Goten choked. “I only have five.”

“You have no right to collect any money!” the same second-class guy shouted. “The entrance is for free!” he added with a righteous conviction.

The elites grinned at him. “Was, now it isn’t.”

“I’ll write a complaint on all of you!” the second-class threatened.

Oh boy, Goten thought. Two meters around the second-class emptied in a blink. It was still not enough as he smashed into people behind him, all of them falling to the ground like tenpins. One of the elites lowered his foot. “Now see, everyone, this is not the right approach,” he tsked.

“No, it really isn’t,” Goten shook his head. “But this one is.”
Goten’s kick in the elite’s stomach took him by surprise and made him heave up his lunch. Goten’s punch found the widened left eye of the elite next to him.

“Guys, get them! They are only five and there’s about fifty of us!” Goten shouted. “Let’s beat the crap out of them and get the money back!”

A stunned silence followed, during which the sounds of the doubled over elite having a strong disagreement with his lunch were heard. The second elite was shaking his head and trying to get up from the asphalt. A few seconds later shouts and battle-cries shook the laundry.

Exactly three minutes later Goten bent down to the ground to take his scattered clothes. There were many clothes lying around, so it took him some time to find what was his. But when he found his jacket, he was not happy – a sleeve had been nearly torn off during the fight. At least it was his, not Kyon’s uniform. Goten cursed loudly. Holding his mutilated clothes in his arms, he straightened and looked around. The five elites, their pockets already empty, and seventeen second-classes were lying on the asphalt unconscious. Goten scratched the short stubs on his head. He shouldn’t have started that - Ario and Toharu had really been better at this and he hadn’t expected to have a third of them to be simply splattered around.

Goten looked at the ones who were either standing or dragging their friends back into the barracks or to the med bay. There were only several of them left, the rest had fled so as not to get caught after beating up the elites, and others – not as wise as the rest – went into the laundry to wash their clothes. This was going to spread like the smell of rotting meat. Was he really that fucked up in the head to entangle himself in such things? At first there were three elites hunting for him, now an additional five. Ah well, some of them here or there, his life was finished anyway.

Goten clutched the clothes in his arms and fled. To go back to his room, even the barracks, would have been a bad idea thus he turned in the only direction that was available to him – the first barracks. He went to the showers, took the last tub left and set to washing.

The shower was bustling. Besides the ones having a shower, there were at least five guys who had returned from the incident at the Laundromats and now were washing their clothes with their hands just as Goten did. It was not that their looks were not friendly, far from it, but Goten found it irritating that it seemed that the guys found something amusing in their situation. Technically, he had not exactly been the first to start the fight. He could always say that he was defending that brainless second-class idiot, but… Ah hell, whom was he kidding; he was the first to start the mess. He was going to peel potatoes for the rest of his life.

After washing his and Kyon’s clothes, he easily found Ario’s room since he knew the number. He was surprised to see Toharu sitting on one of the four beds. He was alone in the room. It was plain, just as Goten’s. But it seemed a little tidier. Goten put his washing in the corner by the door and went to sit down on the bed opposite to Toharu’s.

“I live here, you know,” Toharu chuckled after noticing his surprise.

Goten was somewhat taken aback. He had no idea the two lived together. How was this possible? “You two asked to be accommodated together?” he wondered.

“No,” Toharu shook his head. “One of Ario’s roommates suddenly decided,” he made the quotation-marks with his fingers, grinning, “that he didn’t want to live here. And then, for some reason, my roommates wrote a declaration demanding I be kicked out of their room ‘cause I was a perverted sadistic bastard and they could not live a single more day with me. And then it appeared that we could easily just switch places, me and Ario’s roommate that is.” Toharu grinned again.

Goten grinned back but wondered how much of what Toharu’s roommates wrote was pretended and what was true. And Ario had probably just beaten the hell out of his roommate to convince him to change rooms. It would not be that surprising.

“So how do you like it here?” Goten asked.

Toharu shrugged. “Well, it’s fine, I guess. My previous roommates were nicer, though. Besides, one of them was a total hottie!”

“Really?” Ario asked, entering the room. He dropped a large bag onto the bed next to Toharu. The smell of food permeated the room.

“Yeah, remember the one with big puppy eyes, the one who smiled at me all the time?” Toharu picked up the bag and started ransacking through it, apples, potatoes and carrots spilling from it. “He would have done anything for a night with me.”

“Ah, that one,” Ario nodded. “I did a favor for the guy. You really fucked up things there.”

Toharu chuckled then exclaimed happily at the sight of two cans of beer in the bag. He tossed one to Ario. “It’s not my fault he is such a lousy drinker,” he said opening the other can. He offered it for Goten but when he refused, he took a sip. “I was just trying to get him relaxed.”

“Well, if somebody got me stinking drunk, and then I woke up naked and tied up to the flagpole in the middle of the training field, with the view to the headquarters…” Ario muttered, taking a good sip.

Toharu’s head shot up. “What?!” he gapped at Ario.

“Let me add that he was tied up in turtle bondage. Yep, as far as the rumors go, you and your roommates all got drunk, roamed through the base, and then got that cunning idea to tie that poor guy to the flagpole. Well, you know how you get after you have had a bit too much to drink…” Ario sighed.

Goten’s breath caught in his throat as he envisioned the situation: an early morning, the sun already in the sky, the sirens go off and the guy wakes up. He discovers he is tied to the flagpole in the middle of the still empty field. At first the guy doesn’t understand what is going on then panics and starts struggling to get free to no avail. Then he realizes he is not tied up in a common way… After less than ten minutes savars start gathering for their morning drill and he is still tied up to the flag. Now Goten knew exactly what Ario had meant by saying that Toharu was a dangerous drunk. He was glad the previous time Toharu had just dragged him to his room. It could have ended up much worse. It could have been him instead of that poor guy.

“Oh fuck,” Goten commented.

“That’s putting it mildly,” Toharu said matter-of-factly. He took a swig from his can. “I don’t remember a thing. I know I woke up in my bunk with a horrible headache, but… And I just thought he didn’t talk to me because of the alcohol poisoning he had later. Fuuuuuck…” he groaned, shaking his head. Then he took another swig from his can. “I’ll go apologize or something…” Toharu rubbed his face with his free hand.

Ario patted Toharu on his baldish head. “Sweetheart, I don’t think he’ll want to see your face for quite a while.” Then he decided that he liked the feeling of short re-growing hair and continued to pat until Toharu swatted at his hand.

“I like your head like this,” Ario chuckled.

“I thought you said you loved my hair long?” Toharu snickered, slapping at Ario’s hand again as he reached out to his head once more.

“Well, sure I did. But variety is good, right?” Ario grinned, patting Toharu’s head again.

For the last three minutes Goten had been inspecting Toharu’s uniform. Just as him, Ario and Toharu had the night’s training, but Toharu’s uniform seemed spotless. “Toharu, did you tell that guy who cut up your jacket to buy you a new one?”

“The hell I need him to buy me a jacket! I took a new set from the warehouse. One of the officers was very helpful.”

“That’s my Toharu!” Ario patted him on the head. “Can get anything with a wiggle of his ass.”

“For fuck’s sake, will you quit with this petting?!” Toharu smacked at him.

Goten observed the bag with food next to Toharu. These were not just random tomatoes or potatoes under someone’s shirt. “Where did you get the food from?” he asked.

“I buy it from one of the chefs in the kitchen,” Ario said. “Have to make sure my woman eats well,” he grinned.

“Were I in your shoes, I’d restrain myself. Just in case you might find your family jewels scattered all over the floor,” Toharu warned him. He took a last swig from his can and tossed it across the room into the bin. It rebounded off the heap of trash and landed in the middle of the room.

“Scary,” Ario commented his eyes following the rolling can. It stopped and Ario lost interest in it. He huffed loudly.

Goten suddenly got the feeling that he was intruding on them. They were alone in the room, other roommates absent. Besides, this constant bantering reminded him of flirting.

“Am I intruding?” he asked.

“Nah,” Toharu waved off. “I’m about to start having my period anyway. For some two weeks,” he added glaring at Ario.

“Oh, c’mon!” Ario threw his hands up, the beer in his can churning audibly. “It was just an innocent joke!” He gasped and pressed the can to his mouth to slurp off the froth that appeared.

From the way Ario reacted Goten understood that Toharu must have already practiced this kind of control over Ario at least one or two times.

When he left, it was about nine o’clock in the evening. Ario and Toharu had shared a meal with him and he would have been content if not for the thought nagging at the back of head about the incident at the Laundromats. Another thing was that he was somewhat bitter. Maybe not bitter, more likely what he felt was a bit of discontent and jealousy or maybe everything at once. It had been somewhat challenging and tiring to be with Ario and Toharu while the two were the constant inhabitants off their lovey-dovey world.

Once in his room, Goten greeted Kyon who was lying on his bunk and reading a book. After asking whether anyone had been looking for him and reassured that no one had come into the room Goten ransacked his wardrobe until he found a rope. He tied one end to the handle of the window then secured the other end on the knob of the wardrobe. After stretching it out long the whole room he hung out the clothes to dry.

“I presume that the laundry was out of order?” Kyon drawled. “You needn’t have bothered; I could have washed my clothes myself.”

“No bother at all,” Goten shrugged.

“What happened to your jacket?” Kyon asked, indicating the torn dangling sleeve.

“I was a bit too enthusiastic while washing.”

Kyon turned to look at Goten who picked his way through the clothes then lay down on his bunk, with one leg crossed over the other and his hands placed behind his head. The Saiyan looked completely relaxed. One would never say he had just instigated the beating up of five elites. Kyon scratched the tip of his nose.

“Then I suppose I’ll treat you to something,” Kyon chuckled.

Goten’s right eye opened. This was an appealing idea. What Toharu had cooked was mostly vegetable stew with a tiny morsel of meat in it. “Really? That would be nice. I love roast pork.” He grinned.

“Well, modesty probably is not one of your good qualities,” Kyon chuckled again, nodding. He got up from his bunk.

“Life’s too short for that,” Goten shrugged. Especially with about ten elites hunting for you, his mind supplied. “Actually, what would you think if tomorrow I washed the floor?” he asked. “There’s really a bad smell in here.”

“Oh, I’m all for it,” Kyon nodded. “I thought about a few flowers and curtains. Don’t you think the windows would look much better? And it would be much cozier here.”

Goten had to turn away before answering, otherwise he would have burst out laughing. Trust Kyon to say something like this. He was going to go along with Kyon, just so he would be able to see Daram’s and Roland’s faces after their return.

ooOoOoOoo

The next day was dedicated to washing. After the lessons Goten could be found in his room, bare to his waist, trying to wash off the spots of the floor that had been there since time immemorial. After he had noticed a lot of fleas jumping across the floor, he had added some more washing liquid into the water. He did not know who had lived here earlier but he had fished out half a rotten pizza from under his bed, five condoms from under Daram’s bed, a stack of pornography from under Kyon’s bed (he suspected that it was actually Kyon’s thus returned it where found) and about ten dirty socks from under Roland’s bed. The top drawers of the wardrobes also proved to be stacked with similar goods. It took him two hours to clean it all, but when he was done, the room was hardly recognizable.

After he was done with the room, he stripped his bed and went to the laundry. He was worried but luckily there were no elites at the laundry. It was almost empty, only several savars leaning against the walls and waiting for their laundry to be done. Goten soon figured out that one only needed insert several credits into the slot on a washing-machine, throw the clothes into it and set the mode wanted. Then one could leave the clothes to wash, but he was also aware of possibility of someone stealing the clothes. So he presumed that the only ones who have left their clothes to wash without supervision were elites. Elites were the ones who could find anyone after stealing their clothes. Besides, it was not that easy to use elites’ uniforms and clothes – as the elites were mostly bulkier and got things made of better material – one could not expect people not to notice it.

Goten stuffed the sheets into one of the washing machines, closed the door, turned it on and hopped on top of it. He grinned and playfully saluted one of the guys who was staring at him curiously.

“It should be a good massage,” Goten chuckled. “Either that or I’ll get electrocuted.”

The guy chuckled, too. He frowned. “Hey, you are the one who fought the prince with a sword!”

Goten sighed inwardly as suddenly he became the most interesting thing in the laundry and the rest of the savars turned to stare at him.

“That was quite some fight…” one of the guys drawled.

Goten shrugged, nodding modestly. “Yeah, such luck for a beginner! Unbelievable!” He shook his head. “I had never held a sword in my hands before. To think I’d ever last a minute against the shaii! I think I was pretty cool, eh?” he winked at them.

Some guys gave him confused stares then some of them broke into knowing grins, others were just left staring at him mistrustfully. Goten hoped there would be no reminisces about another feat of his – the laundry.

“You just look at this. Hasn’t everyone of you been sure that swords are for losers? What’s with that attitude now?”

The clamor fell silent and Goten turned to look at a quite tall and big second-class several washing machines away from him. Goten shrugged, leaning his back comfortably on the wall behind him. He waited for a few seconds but it seemed that the guy’s goal wasn’t to get into a conflict and the others around him didn’t seem to be keen on provoking him either.

“Hell, it’s a first class massage, guys,” Goten said in an unsteady voice after several minutes when the washing machine started twirling and tumbling of his clothes. It was making his vision blurry. “I bet it will have an even greater effect than strong drinks from Matilda.”

“Are you sure it’s better than in Matilda? I was planning on inviting you there.”

Goten turned his head to the side. He blinked his blurry eyes at the same savar who had previously commented on sword-fighting. He wasn’t that sure but he thought he could remember seeing the guy around, although he hadn’t stuck out earlier. Or maybe it had been someone else. “I thought you hated losers…” Goten drawled, not sure what the guy wanted from him.

“I never said you were one.”

“Whoohoo! And the atmosphere gets heated!”

Every man in the laundry turned to look at the doorway where Toharu appeared. “Our Goten has just gotten out of the med bay and has already found himself a girlfriend! It seems I worried needlessly.” The short Saiyan was grinning while walking over to Goten. Ario was following him closely with a resigned look on his face.

“Yo!” Toharu smacked Goten on his shoulder after he had slid off the washing machine to face him. “So, you gonna include this lad into our circuits to officers’ club?” he asked, motioning with his head at the tall Saiyan who was still frowning at Toharu for being called a “girlfriend”.

“Don’t force yourself on him, Toharu,” Ario muttered. “Maybe they want some time alone.”

Goten rolled his eyes. “It’s the first time I’ve seen him.”

Toharu grinned at Goten’s newly found friend who looked somewhat dejected after Goten’s words. Toharu’s index finger jumped high into the air. “That can’t be a reason, and you know it,” he winked at Goten.

Goten scratched his head. What the hell was this situation? Everybody was looking at him with obvious expectation but he could not figure out what was expected from him. He looked at Toharu. “Huh?”

“Don’t you “huh” me!” Toharu snapped at him. “This guy here has just invited you on a date! You’re going or what?”

“Oh.” Goten looked at his suitor. “I’m going. If you’re paying,” he added. The tall Saiyan blinked at him, and Goten waved his hands about, realizing he had been misunderstood. “It’s that I checked and there are two credits left on my card. I can’t even buy a mug of beer. I promise to return the money.”

The guy’s mood improved noticeably. “No problem.” He stretched out his hand. “Ranvera Aika.”

Goten shook his hand. “Goten. Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, I know, we are from the same squad,” Ranvera nodded. “Besides, you’ve become quite famous. Especially after helping to liberate the laundry,” he laughed.

Goten groaned. It sounded even worse when others said it. “So we can go after it finishes wa-”

“Bardock? Goten Bardock?”

Everyone turned to the door where the first-in-command appeared.

“Yes, sir?” Goten squeaked out.

“The shaii wants to see you. Now,” he added when Goten threw a quick look at his sheets in the washing machine.

“We’ll look after your clothes,” Ario said.

ooOoOoOoo

The shaii looked at the young man of average height in front of him. There was already considerable stubble of re-growing hair on his head. The shaii walked closer to him. Goten straightened. The shaii was under the impression that Goten wanted to walk backwards and to mold into the wall behind. He noticed a seam on Goten’s left sleeve. The youth was awful at needlework.

“So tell me, Bardock,” the shaii said, “what happened yesterday at the Laundromats?”

“Sir?” Goten’s eyes looked at him questioningly. “Laundromats? Yesterday?”

“You can stop playing innocent. I had it under surveillance because of complaints about extortion. There were video cameras all over the place.”

“Oh.” Goten looked impressed. Then he looked horrified. “Money extortion?! That’s dangerous! Thank you for warning me, sir! Now I’ll know not to go there.”

The prince stood back. Goten’s eyes returned to staring at the opposite wall in front of him. He took a few steps back in order to look at Goten from a bigger distance.

The savar did not look any more sensible.

“Sir?”

“Yes?” the prince answered.

“May I request a new jacket, sir?”

Turning away to hide his smile, the shaii walked back to his desk. “You know that we don’t waste money here,” he said calmly after getting comfortable in his seat. “But I am very interested to hear what happened to your old one.”

“Old ones, sir.”

“Old ones?”

“Yes, sir. One was cut by the Masamune, another was torn yesterday.”

“I see. And, naturally, it happened yesterday at the Laundromats where you weren’t present?”

“Exactly, sir.”

“A jacket, you say…” The shaii rocked with his chair. “Aren’t you worried the slightest bit?” he wondered.

“I’m very worried, sir,” Goten nodded, agreeing. “My drill sergeant is not going to like it if I turn up with a torn jacket. He wasn’t too happy about my needlework, either, sir.” He risked a glance at the shaii’s face. It did not seem that purple-hair was angry.

“I did not lie about the video cameras.”

“Very good, sir.”

The shaii scratched his chin. “I suppose you can go,” he said, motioning at the door with his hand. He chuckled inwardly at the wave of relief that passed over Goten’s face.

“What about my jacket, sir?”

“There was a lot of money lying around. Just go to the warehouse and buy yourself a new one.”

“Never seen any money, sir.”

The shaii grinned. “You may go.”

Goten saluted and left the room. The shaii drummed his fingers on the desk idly. He could not figure out the youth. Goten acted like an idiot with a lot of common sense. For example, differently than others, he did not take the money from the elites. The ones who had taken it had been charged with stealing. Technically, Goten did not even start the fight first – in the recording it looked as if he had been defending that second-class. And what followed later was just like an elementary self-defense. Elementary for an elite, not a third-class.

The shaii drummed on the desk with his fingers again and was left wondering about it all.

TBC
- 4
- 5
- 6
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Barracks