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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
- 7
- 8
- 9
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 [Andera Gendian]
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)

Barracks

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

Part 8

Wednesday was filled with news. Just before the savars started their usual morning drill, the sergeant announced that their school was arranging a friendly sporting competition with another military school named Longdam. It was going to take place in two weeks, with Hataro Officer School being the one to host the games.

The second piece of news was not exactly news but rather, was information about the differentiation tests starting on Friday. Officer training schools usually taught savars the basics of battling or only basic theory, which turned them into average officers who knew a bit about everything but hardly anything at length. However, they also sought out people who excelled in particular fields: piloting, programming, operating a tank, being a medic or sharpshooter, etc. As long as one passed the required tests, he could already begin his career while they were still studying at an officer school.

Another thing, which was not announced but which nevertheless was important to some savars, was that today in the evening five squads of second-years were returning from their field training and the other five squads would be taking their place in five days. Some savars would meet up with the roommates they had missed, others with their enemies and would end up queuing at the med bay with sprained limbs and broken bones as a result.

After the drill, as had now become a routine, Goten and his friends went to the kitchens. The females, who were second-years, enlightened him about the friendly games which traditionally were organized once or twice a year. Sometimes they were organized between two schools, other times there were multiple officer schools taking part. They also told him that usually there was nothing “friendly” about the games. Games like these, as a rule, were watched by representatives from the Commissioned Officer Academies. Competition and tension amongst the savars was immense. Everyone wanted to show their best moves. Those who showed extraordinary abilities or who proved themselves to be gifted and successful had a chance of being scouted out by the Commissioned Officer Academies. In those cases, they would get personal invitations to study at COA without taking entrance exams.

There were also official annual interschool games amongst all the officer training schools. It was a grand-scale sporting event where schools competed for the prestigious Annual Officer School Cup. It tended to change hands often, never staying at one school for more than a few years.

The main differences between the official and unofficial games were the cup and the participants. In interschool competitions the participants representing their schools were mainly second-years picked in prior selection. During unofficial games nearly everyone could try their luck just to see what they were worth.

Goten listened with interest. He wasn’t planning on taking part in the games but it sounded exciting. “So it seems like you won’t take part in them as you’ll be going on field maneuvers instead?” he asked the ringleader when she finished relating.

She nodded. “Yeah, we’ll be spending our time slopping about in swamps and trying not to detonate our asses off.”

“Sounds fun,” Ranvera commented. He looked at Goten. “Your roommates should be returning in the evening, shouldn’t they? Including the one you don’t like.”

“Yeah,” Goten mumbled, not raising his eyes from dills he was chopping. Now Ranvera was trying to appear caring. Not that the second-class really cared much, obviously.

Toharu smacked Goten on the back. “Oh, c’mon, be nicer! That guy agreed to be filmed!”

Goten glared at Toharu as the short Saiyan had startled him and he had half-whammed the chopping knife through the cutting board. He pulled it out and stuck under Toharu’s nose. “This could have taken my fingers off.”

“Yes, sorry,” Toharu agreed. “But you could still think about forgiving him. At this rate you’ll spend the rest of your days alone.”

“And that’s just fine with me, thank you very much!” Goten snapped at him, returning to his task.

After a few more minutes Goten finished chopping the dills and carried the bowl, now filled with dills over to Kyon who took it from him. Then Goten went to wash the kitchenware he had been using. While he was bringing the bowls and plates to the sinks for washing, he noticed a pizza drawing on a balk near the sinks. Interested, he took a look at it. Now he knew that it was not entirely Toharu’s fault for calling the provost marshal that fated night. Indeed, it was a genuine picture of a pizza. There was also a phone number scribbled down on it. Probably the chefs had cut the photo from some kind of Terran culinary magazine for reference and tried to make one. And as for the phone number…well, it was the only piece of paper visible in the kitchen.

Chuckling to himself, Goten started washing dishes. He startled and nearly dropped the plate he had been washing when Toharu leaned against his side.

“What now?”

“Don’t tell me you’re not interested in him.”

“I’m not interested in him.”

“I told you not to tell me that!”

“For gods’ sake, Toharu, what do you want?”

“Ranvera said he’d pay me twenty credits if I placated you.”

Goten rolled his eyes at the foamy dishes. “I see.”

“Yeah. So be a good boy and at least pretend. Otherwise I don’t really care whether you choose Kyon or Ranvera.” He wiggled his eyebrows meaningfully. “Or maybe you’re the kind that would go for both at once?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Goten groaned. “It seems to me both of them are perfectly happy with each other. They’re fucking each other, aren’t they?”

“Damn,” Toharu looked at him surprised, “when did you become so observant?”

“So why the hell do they still make passes at me?”

Toharu sighed. He scratched his head thoughtfully. “Well, I think they’re just playing around with each other to pass the time until one of them gets your ass.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Goten groaned again.

“I might be wrong, though,” Toharu shrugged. Then he winked at Goten’s back. “But I’m rarely wrong concerning love games. Ario is quite a catch, don’t you think so?” he boasted.

“It seems to me,” Goten said frowning, “that they’re fucking around and I’m just an additional trophy.”

“Ehhh,” Toharu pursed his lips. He patted Goten on his butt. He ignored Goten’s raised eyebrows. “Most of us are just additional trophies; it’s the Army. But if you had eyes in your back, you’d see that Ranvera is looking at you with such a pitiful face that it makes me want to cry. And if you looked over at the other side of the kitchen you’d see that Kyon is about to throw that very sharp looking knife at me because I fondled your ass.”

Goten sniggered, half-amused and half-annoyed.

“It will be all well and good between them until you show a little more amiability to one of them. Then they’ll claw each others’ throats out.”

“Oh, c’mon!” Goten threw his hands apart. “That’s bullshit!”

“Mark my word,” Toharu promised. “Why can’t you just choose? Don’t you like at least one of them, even a little? They’re good guys.”

“I know that,” Goten nodded. He looked around but it seemed that everyone was out of earshot. Then he leaned in closer to Toharu, “I’m a third-class, Toharu. The two of them are second-classes. They’ll cool off pretty fast after they realize that.”

“Man,” Toharu slapped himself on his forehead. “I’d completely forgotten!”

Goten gave him an incredulous look. “You can’t forget such a thing!”

Toharu threw his hands up. “What can I say; I’ve got a lousy memory.”

ooOoOoOoo

Goten had used the short break that he had between preparing food and peeling potatoes to return to his barracks and take a shower. He changed out of the sweaty uniform he had borrowed from Kyon into his own with sewed up sleeve. As Kyon had told him earlier that he was going to do his laundry, Goten added the borrowed uniform to Kyon’s bag of dirty laundry. After the fights at the Laundromats the elites had given up on their post there, and it had now become safe to wash clothes there.

Refreshed, Goten flopped onto his bunk. He closed his eyes to enjoy a moment of peace. Kyon was mooching about again. Most likely together with Ranvera. Or Ranvera’s roommate. Or both of them at once. Goten tried to remember the face he had seen on Ranvera’s laptop. Was the guy attractive? He could not remember. Despite that, he tried to picture the three of them together. This had a predictable effect on his lower body. Goten relaxed his shoulders into the bedding then reached out for his belt. He unbuckled it then unzipped his zipper and reached into his pants for his partly aroused cock. He looked around for a hanky or some unneeded cloth. The room was in perfect order, nothing out of place. Goten turned onto his side and started rummaging through his bedside cabinet. Finally, holding a packet of tissues, he lay back down on his back again.

After putting the tissues beside him, Goten pushed his underwear and pants down his legs and to his ankles. He spread his legs lightly and slicked his palm with his saliva. Then he brought his hand south to cup himself. He closed his eyes and started stroking his shaft. The tingling pleasure started spreading through his body. At first he went slowly, teasing himself into full hardness. Then his pace started to quicken. His left hand slid past his aching cock to cup and roll his testicles. Moaning softly, he thrust his hips upwards.

He had built up the rhythm now: thrusting into his hand and squeezing his balls lightly. Goten’s breath had also quickened, the air rushing past his lips drying them and his mouth. His tongue flicked over his lips to moist them. He broke the rhythm to rub with his thumb over the damp slit.

His hands worked faster and faster until his mind started clouding, and now there was only the urge to come. With his left hand he let go of his balls and grabbed a tissue. He pressed it over the head of his cock.

Goten’s shoulders dug into the bed as his back arched a little. He gave a silent grunt while coming. Trying to draw his pleasure out, he stroked himself for a few more moments then let go of his quickly softening cock. He sagged into the bedding and lay still for a minute to bask in the afterglow then took another tissue to wipe himself clean. He jerked in alarm as suddenly there were voices heard in the corridor. Quickly, he tucked himself back in. His eyes swept around the room and in his panic it took him a moment to think of his bedside cabinet, but when he did he hurriedly threw the soiled tissues inside.

The door flew open and Daram stepped into the room. Greeting Goten loudly, he marched inside and dropped his backpack and his other belongings onto his bed. After getting rid of the weight, he straightened, exhaling contently. Then he sniffed at the air. His eyes went back to Goten. He laughed as Goten’s face painted scarlet and he gave Daram a sheepish grin.

“My bad,” Daram chuckled. “I hope it didn’t get caught in your zipper?”

Goten shook his head, laughing. “No, it didn’t. Thanks for worrying.”

Daram winked at him. Then he looked around the room. “This somehow looks different. Why is it so clean in here?” Then his gaze locked on the shelf above Goten’s bunk. He pointed at a potted plant on it. “What is that?”

“A flower apparently,” Goten answered. He could not help chuckling.

“Is it edible?”

Goten shook his head. “I don’t think so. It’s just to make the room more…cozy.”

“Cozier?” Daram’s lips curved into an answering grin. “Then, I gather it’s Kyon’s idea?”

“Yup.”

“Gods above!” Daram rushed to the curtains. “Is this embroidery?!”

Goten got up from the bed to look at them. “Ugh. It seems so. I hadn’t noticed this before.”

“Did he do this by himself?”

Goten waved his hands about. “I have no idea.” Then he exhaled in relief as a thought occurred to him. “No, no, it must be his mom who sent this. Yes, yes, he wouldn’t have had any time for embroidering this.”

Daram let go of the curtain. “Hell, you scared me there for a minute.”

“I’m sure he knows how to do it, though,” Goten muttered.

Both of them turned to the door as Roland entered the room. Goten noticed that his right hand was bandaged and was hanging in a swathe on his chest.

“Did you get it checked?” Daram asked. He walked over to Roland to help him get his rucksack off his back.

“Yeah. It’s broken at the wrist. It seems it’s started healing wrongly, so it will have to be broken and put together again.”

Daram nodded. “I see.” He tossed Roland’s rucksack on his bed. “Need help with anything else?”

“Yeah, I’ll go to the showers. It would be good if you helped me to undress and put my clothes back on.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

Roland sniffed at the air. He gave Goten a look then walked over to the window. “I’ll just let in some fresh air,” he said, opening the window.

Goten scratched his head sheepishly. Daram smacked him on his back cheerfully. “Don’t you worry about it! Next time just put a sign on the door to warn us that you’re wanking off. We’ll make sure not to disturb you.”

“Oh, c’mon, enough already!” Goten groaned. He turned to the door. “I’m off to my kitchen duty. Don’t turn the room upside-down – Kyon will cry.”

“Again?!” Daram exclaimed. “You were also on kitchen duty when we left! How long can your kitchen duty last?!”

“Ohhhh,” shaking his head, Goten turned around to look at him from the threshold, “you don’t even know the half of it.”

ooOoOoOoo

On Thursday, just before finishing their drill, all first-years were ordered to have their dinners and return straight to their barracks. They were to shut the blinds and not to step out outside until morning.

“Sir?” Goten addressed the sergeant.

“Yes, seamstress?”

“And how about my kitchen duty, sir? I usually finish at about twelve o’clock.”

The sergeant smiled at Goten then suddenly glued his face to Goten’s. “What didn’t you understand, sissy?!” he yelled, saliva erupting in fountains. “Do not step out of your room! Which part of this isn’t clear?! If I find you roaming around...gods help you because no one else will be able to!”

“Yes, sir!”

So it was going to be a full moon tonight. Usually, from the very young age, Saiyans were given mutation suppressors so as not to change into Oozaru form and wreck everything around. To gradually adapt to the moonlight and resist the urge to look at the moon was a part of the officer school program. The ones who had gone through the training said that it required much effort, strength and sanity. But this was not the most difficult thing to master. Goten had heard that there were Saiyans who managed to control the mutation even after having looked at the moon. He found it incredible.

Although Goten had no memory prior to turning three, he had been told that he had transformed into his Oozaru form quite often as a very young Saiyan. He personally remembered having turned into Oozaru twice. But all he could recall from those times were blurry shapes of trees and water and someone shouting his name. The last time he had transformed had been a disaster. When he woke up, he was at home in his bed. Half of a wall and roof were missing. Later he, just like all other children, had used a mutation suppressor.

Adults gradually became accustomed to Oozaru form but were never totally in control of it. You never knew what your friend in Oozaru form could do. You never knew what your siblings or parents might do. Even you yourself never knew what you might do. There used to be cases of rampaging families going against other families when one of the siblings decided he wanted revenge for a torn book or a mate from that family. But that was nothing in comparison to the case when a few villages had cleanly wiped out each other from the ground. When the fervor had passed, the survivors could hardy believe what they had done.

Oozaru form was useful amongst enemies but usually it was just a nuisance to oneself and others when in a friendly society.

Following the orders, all first-years went back to their barracks right after their dinner. Goten showered and returned to his room fully intending to finally have a good night’s rest. His roommates already were in beds, snoozing.

Hours passed and ten o’clock came. The blinds were shut tightly, both Daram and Roland were asleep but Goten and Kyon were wide awake.

It was different to what it had been like at home. Even when Goten hadn’t used his mutation suppressor, it had never been like this. They hardly ever had cloudless skies and the moonlight was never this strong. It was completely different in a desert – it seemed it was seeping through every gap in the blinds.

It was deadly silent outside but the tension was nearly tangible in the air and sleep was out of reach. Goten was feeling the urge to switch on the light in the room thinking it might help to dissipate the effect of the moonlight, but they had been forbidden even this. His body was tingling, his hairs on end and he could hardly resist the urge to stare at the window. He turned his head to the side as Roland started snoring softly. Then he looked at Daram’s bed. The other Saiyan was also sleeping. Figures. Most second-years had already finished their training thus it would take more than a speck of moonlight to rouse their bodies.

He was surprised at the way Daram and Roland were acting around each other. Yesterday he had thought that maybe it was because both of them were tired and had no fervor left in them to fight anymore. Another version had been that it had been Daram who had accidentally broken Roland’s arm. But then Roland told them about a terrain vehicle nearly squashing him in a trench. He had not time to power up and broke his arm while twisting aside and ramming it into a metal gas tank.

It seemed that Daram had reacted quite strongly to the accident.

Goten turned on his other side. It was frequently like this – many people realized how much they cared for each other only when it was too late. Luckily, it had been not too late for Daram. Well, Daram did seem to have some weird affection towards losers and Roland was a loser alright. Roland also seemed to have an uncanny inclination towards masochism. Goten could not see other reason for him constantly trying to piss Daram off. Unless it had been desperation fuelled by the irresistible wish to be seen by Daram.

Goten scratched his spiky head. Very likely, it had just been a question of time of when they would acknowledge each other. It worked just fine – Roland seemed less of a bastard than he had been. Actually he was nearly pleasant now. Still…the entire love affair was just weird and… somewhat amusing.

Goten turned over on his stomach. The light tingling in his body was still present and he was partially hard. Annoyed, he pressed his forehead to the cool spot on the pillow where his body heat hadn’t reached yet. He heard Kyon’s bed creak and felt somewhat better – at least he was not the only one plagued by the moonlight. Then he heard feet softly padding over the floor. Goten’s mattress dipped in as the second-class sat down on his bed. Goten raised his head to stare at his roommate.

Kyon felt something akin to bitter amusement at the cautious disbelief on Goten’s face. He realized he wanted to smack Goten a few times. He was sick of Goten trying to keep his distance from everyone.

Kyon leaned over Goten. He knew that what he was doing was probably only testing Goten’s patience but it was worth a try. “Why don’t we help out each other?” he asked in a whisper. While Goten was trying to think of another line to brush him off, Kyon pushed his face to Goten’s ear. “Do you remember the night we masturbated simultaneously?” He felt sudden heat waft from Goten’s face. At least this kind of reaction. But when he raised his head, he saw that despite the heat in his face, Goten was giving him a skeptical look.

Kyon glared at him. “C’mon, Goten, why the heck are you playing coy? You kissed Ranvera.”

Goten returned the glare. “Yes, I kissed him, but you’re sleeping with him. I think I should be more jealous, shouldn’t I?” he drawled in a voice dripping with irony.

Kyon stiffened then leaned away from Goten. “So you know,” he said, still sitting on the side of Goten’s bunk.

“Of course, I know,” Goten spat.

Silently, Kyon watched Goten’s face for several long moments. “And are you jealous? At least of one of us?” he asked then. Goten took his time to answer and then it became clear that he wasn’t going to answer. Disappointed at his silence, Kyon stood up. “I see,” he said softly. “Then I suppose it’s pointless asking whether you’re angry with us. Very likely you’re just relieved.”

ooOoOoOoo

Despite the difficult night for some savars, Friday was filled with excitement. Today was the beginning of differentiation tests for piloting. Nearly half of the savars wanted to be a pilot. They were young and liked big chunks of flying metal that they could control. Cold, vast space seemed to be overflowing with adventures and was alluring to many.

From the very first lesson in the morning, savars whose surnames were read by lecturers had been sent to aerospace center. It was four o’clock when squad seven finally had its turn. They were called in alphabetical order and Goten was among the first five that were sent to the center.

This was his first time entering the building. Inside it was very spacious with high ceiling. There was a corridor with rooms at both sides. Some of them had glass walls and, while his group was being led past, he could see everything what was happening inside. They had passed a few savars who were leaving the building. Some of them didn’t look good and had a funny smell.

They stopped at one of these rooms. Through the glass wall, Goten could see that there was a centrifuge with a cabin at one end. They entered the room at about same time as one of the savars was leaving after centrifuge testing.

Goten and other four savars queued at the table next to the door where an officer read their names from a list and put ticks next to them. Then he led the first savar from the list to the centrifuge. The officer returned and, through the few monitors which hung above his table checked if the savar in the cabin was ready. Then he set the machine going. At first he selected eight Gs then started gradually increasing it. He stopped the centrifuge after it had reached thirty.

The savar who climbed out of the cabin was somewhat shaky on his feet but the grin on his face was enormous as he knew that he had passed. He wobbled towards the table and was directed to the next room for additional tests. Then the officer called the next savar on the list.

When Goten’s turn came, he was secured with two belts inside the cabin. The start went smoothly and he hardly felt the gravity. Then the speed started increasing. He still didn’t feel much of the gravity but something started fizzing in his stomach. Everything was more or less fine until gravitational acceleration exceeded fifteen. Then Goten felt as if the remains of his lunch wanted out. He tried to ignore it, but in a few seconds he realized that his stomach didn’t care whether it was ignored. It simply wanted out.

He was not going to make it.

Goten felt the centrifuge slowing down. It soon stopped. He nearly ripped the belts out of their sockets and shot through the door as soon as it opened. He ran past the table with the officer and other five savars who had just now come from his squad. While rushing past, Goten heard the officer telling him to return to his drill.

His stomach erupted as soon as he had sprinted outside the aerospace center. Holding onto the wall and retching violently, he doubled over. When first spasms passed, he straightened somewhat and brushed his forehead with his hand to wipe the sweat. Panting, he squeezed his eyes shut. Then came the second wave and he bent over again.

“Ughhh,” he groaned, wiping at his mouth with his sleeve. He was shivering.

He had wanted to be a pilot. He had never cared much for being an officer. Mainly because he had never even dreamed about going to an officer school. Third-classes didn’t go to officer schools. It had been a simple bureaucratic mistake when Gohan had gone and it was not going to be repeated. He’d had an opportunity to become something he wished to become and he had screwed it up.

“Hey, you alright?”

Smacking at the hand which had just lightly patted him on his back, Goten whirled around. His head went hazy again at the sudden movement and he pressed his back to the wall so as to feel the firm ground under his feet. He saluted lamely as he recognized the shaii. Then, still saluting, he covered his mouth with his left hand. His face went ashen and his eyes unfocused again.

“Urgh…”

“Stop saluting, you idiot,” the prince muttered. He stepped back as Goten doubled over again. Frowning, he watched Goten puking his guts out. It occurred to him that this was the second time he was seeing the same scene. The only difference was that this time Goten seemed as if he was about to cry.

“What happened?” the shaii asked as it seemed the most of the attack had passed.

From where he was bent over, Goten waved his hand backwards in a dismissive gesture. “N-nothing. I just…” He heaved up again. In a few seconds it seemed that it was over and he wiped at his mouth again. He leaned against the wall. “I just screwed up my piloting test.”

The shaii’s face lit up by realization. “Oh, right. It started today, the tests.” He shrugged. “No big deal, then.” Without another word, he opened the door and proceeded into the center.

Goten shook off the stupor the prince’s words had caused. He scowled at the slowly closing door. He had just screwed up the only thing he had ever wanted for himself. To his mind it was a big deal. He cursed loudly and kicked at the wall angrily. Nothing changed except for his foot throbbing lightly. Goten cursed again.

From the aerospace center Goten slunk to his barracks to wash his mouth and have a ten-minute rest. Then he returned to the drill but soon it was five o’clock and he, together with others, went to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

“Man, I’m hungry!” Toharu complained after bursting into the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Ario, who was following him, agreed. “All that spinning around sapped up all the energy I had!”

With a twinge of jealousy, Goten trudged after Kyon, who was walking around, distributing orders. “So, I gather you passed?” he asked.

Ario and Toharu looked at each other. Toharu shrugged. “Actually we decided to fuck up the written test because we prefer to stay on ground. I would hate if he,” he pointed at Ario, “just disappeared for weeks or months piloting some peace of junk with passengers. And I’d not allow him to be a fighter pilot – it’s too dangerous.”

“Who the hell would ask you?” Ario snorted at him. “Besides, are you sure you failed? I saw you were ticking everything at random. You might have passed.”

Toharu shook his head. “No way, no way. I know no shit about aircraft.”

“And how was the centrifuge?” Goten asked. He took a bowl from Kyon who had filled it with various vegetables and told him to wash and chop them.

The short Saiyan waved this off dismissively. “The merry-go-round was a piece of cake,” he said.

“Yeah, your stomach could probably digest bricks,” Goten muttered bitterly.

“You somehow seem awfully sullen,” Ario decided to voice out the obvious. “What did they tell you at the aerospace center?”

Carrying the huge bowl with vegetables towards the sinks, Goten turned around to glare at him. “That I was hardly qualified to be a passenger.”

Toharu bellowed with laughter. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing,” he said still laughing.

“Yeah,” Kyon added from behind them, “I can just always find a place for you in my ship. No big d-” he stopped talking at the look on Goten’s face. They stared at each other for a few seconds. Then Goten turned away and continued to the sinks. He poured the vegetables into one of them and started washing. Kyon approached him.

“Sorry for scratching an open wound,” he apologized sincerely. “I had no idea you wanted to be a pilot this much.”

Goten’s head snapped around to face him. “I don’t think you’ve ever asked!” he spat angrily.

Kyon was silent for a moment. “And now you’re being an asshole,” he said then. “You never talk to us about yourself. You push everyone away. I can’t read your mind, Goten.”

Goten stared at him then, not being able to hold his roommate’s gaze, lowered his eyes. There were hurt and anger at the same time in that gaze. Kyon was telling the truth – he knew nearly everything about Kyon, his family, his likes and dislikes but he had never talked about himself to Kyon. He had kept distance from everyone. The guys were just being friendly, trying to comfort him. Even the shaii had been worried about him, thinking he had been cornered by vengeful elites and had gotten the shit beaten out of him.

Goten turned Kyon his back to turn off the tap. Then he faced the second-class again. Sighing, he leaned on the metal sink. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

Still looking somewhat bitter, Kyon shrugged. “Never mind. Just…talk to us.”

“Yeah,” Goten nodded. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. He startled at Toharu’s arm wrapping around his shoulders. He looked at the short Saiyan who was nearly hanging on him. Toharu bared a row of sharp and white teeth at him.

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart. There’s no sorrow alcohol can’t drown! I’m gonna drag you to Matilda’s tonight!”

Goten gave him a skeptical look. “After this we have extraordinary drilling just for us. Then I will have to peel potatoes. I finish at twelve. I have to get up before five.”

Toharu smacked him on his back cheerfully, making him topple forward. “So that’s nearly five hours for drinking!”

Kyon scratched his head. “Just don’t overdo it.”

Toharu looked at him. “Who? Me? I never overdo it!”

“Not you, idiot!” Ario whacked him over his head. “He was talking about Goten. And stop groping his ass!”

Toharu gave him a shocked look. “I wasn’t groping his ass!”

Ario shook his finger at him. “You were!”

“I wasn’t!”

Ario looked at Goten.

Goten nodded. “He was. Two days ago, on Wednesday,” he added.

“Damn you!” Toharu pouted. “And I didn’t even get a good feel!”

Ario smacked Toharu over his head again. “What did I tell you about groping random asses?”

“It wasn’t random!”

“Oh gods, can you two shut up? Don’t spur them on, Goten!” Kyon groaned. He looked around. “And where the hell is Ranvera?”

“I think it’s his turn for the piloting test,” Ario said.

“I see. Well, let’s get down to business,” Kyon said, motioning for the pair to follow him to the pile of chunks of meat on one of the tables.

Ranvera arrived at the kitchen when the food was already cooking. He apologized for being late, but, as he had failed his piloting test, Goten was ready to forgive him anything. It felt nice to know that he was not the only one.

After preparing dinner they went to attend the additional drilling. It consisted of a lot of running around the base and push-ups. Every grunt and a drop of sweat seemed to improve the sergeant’s mood. At the end of their training, his enthusiasm and bellowing at them were overflowing and he even joined in to run together with them around the base.

When they were dismissed, cursing softly under their breath, Goten and Kyon went to their barracks. Goten drank nearly a liter of water then took a shower to wash the sweat and dust off. When he returned, he suddenly became aware of his roommates giving him weird looks.

“What?” Goten wondered, rubbing his short-stubbed head with a towel.

“Do you know that you’ve become a local celebrity?” Daram asked him.

“Huh?”

“Roland and I have been to wash our stuff at Laundromats,” Daram said. “Man… There are legends about you!”

Goten rubbed at his nape awkwardly. “Ugh. I don’t think I want to hear them.”

“They say you nearly bested the prince in a swordfight and kicked some elites’ asses when they were beating up some second-year.” Daram wriggled his eyebrows and gave him a mischievous smile. “Then there is also the bit about you being the leader of resistance movement against the usurpation of the laundry.”

“Ugh.” Goten slapped himself on the forehead.

“And then that part about you and your buddies getting drunk off your ass and getting kitchen duty for two years,” Roland added.

“Excuse me,” Kyon cleared his throat. “He was the only one drunk off his ass.”

“Oh, so you belong to the company?”

Kyon waved his hands as if to ward bad omens off. “Don’t even mention it. It was the first time I did something like that and-”

“You were frying a chicken,” Goten pointed out. “I wouldn’t say it was a sober thing to do.”

Kyon said nothing to that, just sat sullen and pouting on his bed.

“You know, if you get your sentence shortened, people will try and get you into trouble again so that you would have kitchen duty again.”

Both Kyon and Goten looked at Daram. “Huh?”

Daram grinned. “The food’s good.”

Goten slapped himself on his forehead again.

“They love it,” Roland endorsed, nodding.

Goten looked at Kyon whose mood had improved tenfold. It was clear that he was ready to slave away in the kitchen even for thirty years as long as someone said that his food was good. Goten sighed. “Don’t believe a thing they said,” he warned Roland and Daram. “All those rumors are very much exaggerated.”

Daram shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. But it’s a fact that everybody knows you.”

“Do they?” Goten wondered. True, people nodded at him when he passed but he also nodded at them because most of faces in the base were already familiar. It felt natural to greet each other.

“Well,” Kyon shrugged, “at least those elites won’t have any problems with finding you.”

ooOoOoOoo

Goten was tossing and turning in his bunk. His heavy mind was filled with glass constructions and spinning centrifuges. He was in a swamp and it was damp, the glass cloudy. He was half-aware that what he was seeing was not real. But he could hear that, while sinking into the sloppy ground, the glass constructions and spinning centrifuges were making lurling-gurgling sounds.

Goten felt sickish but could not understand whether he felt so only in a dream or in reality as well. He was gazing down at the whirling centrifuges which now were half-way buried into the slough and were spattering mud and tufts of grass all over the swamp. Finally, they started slowing down. When they stopped, people dressed in various uniforms started climbing out of them and digging through the sludge into the surface. At first he couldn’t recognize anyone then, gradually, their faces started taking shapes turning into familiar ones he had seen around the base. There were also Ario and Toharu. Ranvera and Kyon, Daram and Roland, and Gohan.

Goten reached forward with his arm. He tried to call him but no voice came out. He tried to run after him but Gohan and other people were walking much faster than he was running. Soon, despite his best efforts, Gohan, together with his friends, was gone behind the horizon.

Goten stopped running and stared at the distance. There was no sound. All gone. Gone all of them.

“Hey!”

Groggily, Goten blinked his eyes open at someone calling his name and shaking him by his shoulders.

“You alright? You were tossing in your sleep.”

Kyon grunted in surprise as Goten’s arms wrapped around him. “That must have been some nightmare,” he finally murmured, reaching out to pat Goten on his stubby head. He was a bit surprised but glad when Goten didn’t smack at his hand.

“There were a lot of centrifuges,” Goten said. He was shivering.

Kyon chuckled.

Then Goten shook his head. He was lying again. “No, not that,” he whispered. “I saw my brother.”

“You have a brother?”

TBC
- 7
- 8
- 9
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