“Survivor.”

(Pare’s Tale)

– A “Chaotic Future” Side Story –

PART FOUR:

STAR-CROSSED

The Saiyan space pod screamed through the air.

Pare’s eyes snapped open as his space pod was rocked violently as it tore through the atmosphere of the planet below. Through the circular window before him, the Saiyan warrior could see a riot of colors: flashing yellows, brilliant oranges, and, most of all, terrible streaks of burning red. The temperature inside the pod became almost too much to bear, and Pare found himself struggling not only to remain conscious, but to simply breathe as well. Each breath that he took filled his gasping lungs with fire.

The ship’s lost all power! he realized, his mind beginning to cloud from panic and pain. But how? Why? Everything was working fine, this doesn’t make any sense! Before he could even attempt to fix the problem with his pod, a blinding flash of white light poured in through the window, causing the Saiyan to cry out in shock. The tumultuous shaking of the small, spherical pod ceased, replaced instead by a gut-wrenching sensation of falling through the air.

I’ve broken through the atmosphere, he realized, relief overtaking his trembling body. It took him only a moment to realize the dangerous situation that he was no in, though: with no power, Pare had no way to control the trajectory of his craft; he was falling helplessly, unable even to deploy the emergency parachutes in the back of the pod that could potentially slow his descent enough to save his ship, and his life.

Further introspection was interrupted as another violent jolt tore through the spacecraft. Unlike the constant motion of entering the atmosphere, though, this was a single, jarring crash unlike anything that Pare had ever experienced before. Just before blacking out, the black-cloaked survivor of planet Vegeta’s destruction realized what that sensation heralded:

Impact.

--

The young woman watched in silent awe.

Standing slowly to steady herself after being tossed to the ground by the quaking terrain beneath her feet, she peered through the cloud of dust that had been kicked up by the impact, straining to see anything amidst the chaos of dirt and debris. She coughed, covering her mouth with the back of her left hand as she used her right to shield her eyes—which glowed purple in the sudden storm of dust—as fragments of stone and dirt struck her pale face.

That was a ship! she thought, her excitement at having witnessed such a thing immediately replaced by worry for any of the passengers on board that may have survived. I should go get help… No, maybe not, she argued with herself, biting her bottom lip, a nervous habit that she’d had since she was a little girl. If I take the time to return to Valdis, it may be too late! With that thought, the young, blue-haired woman made her way quickly through the now-settling cloud of debris, gasping as, barely a dozen yards from where she’d been standing before impact, a massive crater loomed in the ground before her. I must have been tossed further back than I’d thought, she realized, rubbing at the sore spot on the back of her head. As her vision cleared, something at the bottom of the crater caught her attention.

Is that…?

Before she knew it, the purple-eyed young woman found herself sliding down the slope toward the spherical spacecraft that rested embedded in the ground at the bottom of the impact zone. Ignoring the damage being done to her once-fine robes of violet and sky-blue silk, she eventually made her way to the still-steaming pod. Upon seeing the craft, the woman gasped in disbelief.

This is a Saiyan ship, she realized, her shimmering eyes widening in shock. She had never actually seen such a space craft, but throughout her life she had heard more than enough stories, and seen more than enough pictures, to recognize the pod for what it was. The young woman also knew her duty as a Galdrian noble: any evidence of contact with the Saiyan race was to be reported immediately to the authorities, lest the Galdrians find themselves caught off guard again should the Saiyans return to continue their former war.

Though more than five hundred years had passed, her people still remembered the brutal war that had been fought against the invaders from planet Vegeta.

Curiosity struggled against her sense of duty as the blue-haired noblewoman walked a slow circle around the now-cooling space pod. She reached out, tentatively touching her fingertips to the craft, instantly pulling her hand back with a cry of pain and surprise, for the surface was still quite hot. She knelt before it, her throbbing fingers in her mouth as she peered deeply into the space pod’s single, circular window. Inside, the noblewoman could barely make out the figure of a man, though his features were too obscured by the smoky glass to tell whether or not he lived.

Standing to her feet once again, the purple-eyed woman made her decision. Backing away up the slope as far as possible, she thrust both hands forward, her eyes flashing with power as a bolt of flickering, amethyst-colored energy shot from her outstretched hands to collide with the space pod, kicking up yet another cloud of debris and dust. Immediately after firing off the attack, the young woman slid back down the wall of the crater, reaching the ship and gasping as she broke through a wall of thick, black smoke.

The front of the spherical pod had been completely blown away, revealing the space craft’s single inhabitant. As she had thought, it was a man: sun-bronzed skin, night-dark, spiky hair, and clad in a nearly all-concealing black cloak. He was quite handsome, she was forced to admit, and as she moved in closer, the mysterious man groaned and shifted, allowing the front of his cloak to fall open. The woman gasped as she noticed his armor and, more importantly, the tail wrapped tightly about his waist.

That left no doubt. A Saiyan had once again come to planet Galdria.

Once again Ellia felt a battle raging within herself as her duties as a member of the royal family warred against her own sense of curiosity and desire. Her musing was cut short, though, as the Saiyan’s eyes suddenly shot open, locking with hers. They were dark and pain-clouded, bloodshot, and wide with confusion and fear, but in them the blue-haired woman sensed something else. In this man, she could sense desperation, and the fear she saw in his eyes wasn’t the fear of injury, or of being alone in a strange place; to her, it seemed as if this man was filled with worry that, if he died now, he’d be leaving some great task unaccomplished, some important quest left unfulfilled. Those dark, pleading eyes struck the young woman to her core, and as the Saiyan once again lapsed into unconsciousness, her internal battle was over.

Bending down to shoulder the weight of the man over her shoulder, the slight noblewoman slowly took to the air, struggling with her burden. After finally reaching a safe height, she tore off to the north with a streak of light, toward the small country home that had been in her family for generations. There this mysterious Saiyan would be safe to recover.

At least, she corrected herself, as long as I can keep him hidden…

--

Time passed.

Days turned to weeks as the Saiyan—who the noblewoman learned was named Pare—recovered, and weeks turned to months. His wounds were healing, though slowly, as if the planet itself was loath to let this Saiyan recover, and soon it was hoped that Pare would be fully restored to his old strength. And, surprisingly, during all that time no one in the nearby capital city of Valdis learned of Pare’s existence. Once or twice a week the woman, Ellia, would venture into Valdis so as not to alert anyone that something strange was occurring on her estate, and she would visit with her relatives, most notably, of course, Emperor Gilliam and Empress Pheris, her cousins. Somehow she was able to maintain an illusion of calm and serenity—though she had no idea how—and no one thought that anything was amiss.

Each and every time that Ellia dined with Gilliam and his wife, she was filled with a sense of dread that something would slip, and Pare’s existence would become known to them. For the situation now was far more dire than ever it had been, and Ellia understood with dread certainty exactly what was at stake: she and Pare had, over the course of the past several months, become lovers.

The transition had been completely natural. Neither he nor she had felt uncomfortable, nor had there been any pressure from one side or the other; rather, their relationship had grown into a comfortable, strong bond between one strong, independent person and another. A trust had grown between the two of them, and Ellia and Pare had come to know one another very well, though the Saiyan still kept much of his past private, and Ellia knew better than to pry; Pare would confide in her when the time was right, and not before.

This change in their relationship had also brought about an entirely new dilemma, though. Pare had told Ellia briefly about his mission, and how it was imperative that he reach Earth as soon as possible. The problem was, however, that Pare’s ship had been completely annihilated after the crash, and there was no convincing way for Ellia to procure a Galdrian ship from the imperial space port. Such a move would raise far too many questions, after all. The two of them had agreed, though, that getting off of Galdria was paramount, for should their relationship be exposed, it would mean certain death for them both.

Unfortunately for the two lovers, their time was running dangerously short…

--

Ellia entered, ashen faced.

Pare sat up erect in the bed, the smile that he’d been preparing for his beloved fading instantly from his features as he realized that something was wrong. He left the bed slowly, his head spinning a little and his legs still feeling weak despite the months he’d had to recover.

Curse this planet, he though, not for the first time.

“What’s wrong?” the Saiyan warrior asked, though the moment the question left his lips, a dark understanding swept over him. “They know, don’t they?” The question was rhetorical, and before receiving an answer, Pare was already moving about the small bedchamber, dressing himself and gathering together anything that looked worthwhile.

Ellia’s hand on his shoulder caused him to pause as she spoke. “There’s still time, Pare,” she said softly, her voice trembling with fear. “They’ve only just found the remains of your pod, nothing more. We still have some time to prepare.”

“How? How did they find it?”

Ellia was silent for a moment before speaking. “The area you came down in was in the province of Adean, a duchy loyal to the royal family. To be honest, we’re lucky it went unnoticed for as long as it did, for Adean is typically very well maintained and patrolled.” She shook her head, trying to focus her thoughts and get back to the subject. “Anyway,” she continued, allowing Pare to wrap his arms around her as she rested her head against his chest, “the Duke of Adean discovered the crash site two days ago, and brought it immediately to the attention of Gilliam. A full-scale search will be conducted, I’m sure, but they’d not think to look here. They’ve no reason to suspect me,” she added, trying to hide the doubt in her voice.

“Why were you there?” Pare asked, kissing Ellia atop her head. “You said that area was controlled by a Duke, right? From what you’ve said, you have a pretty decent sized estate here, so why were you on Adean’s land?”

“Gilliam sent me there to spend some time with the Duke,” Ellia replied, looking up at Pare with a faint smile. “The Duchess died just a couple years ago, and it was thought that I would be a fitting wife for him. He has a young son, Galian, who has apparently been quite a handful...” She stepped away from the dark-eyed Saiyan and shrugged. “I was on my way home from a rather awkward and altogether boring stay with the good Duke.”

Pare laughed. “How fortunate for me then, that the only sane person on this godforsaken planet just happened to be in the right place at the right time. I’d say I’m extremely lucky, Ellia…”

“Luck had nothing to do with it, my love,” she said, once again melting into his strong embrace. “We were star-crossed…”

--

The Emperor listened intently.

As Lestan, the crimson-haired Duke of Adean finished, Gilliam spoke. “So you’ve found nothing then?” he asked, his eyes flashing with anger. “Do you truly understand what is at risk here? If there is a Saiyan loose upon our world, who can say how much damage he could do before being brought to justice?” Gilliam stood and marched purposefully down the stairs that separated the royal dais from the rest of the Great Hall.

“I mean no disrespect, my Emperor, but the pod we found was only big enough for one passenger, and it was severely damaged as well.” Lestan paused, waiting to see what effects his words would have upon the Emperor. “So even if the Saiyan survived, which itself is highly unlikely, it is only one man or woman. And honestly, my Lord, what harm could one Saiyan—who is most likely injured, might I add—really do?”

Gilliam became somber, and his voice was cold and low when he finally spoke once again. “How much of our history do you know, du Adean? How much of the war against the invading Saiyans have you read about, or learned about?”

“Little, my Lord,” Lestan admitted, keeping his yellow-gold eyes downcast. “Only what was taught me by my tutors. I know that the war raged on for years, and that the Saiyans were an enemy unmatched in strength and ferocity. I have been told that, were it not for the actions of Torin Eramus, wielder of the legendary Heaven’s Wrath power, we most likely would have been unable to repel the enemy.” He stopped as Gilliam approached, swallowing the lump in his throat. Lestan had never been particularly comfortable around the Emperor, a feeling perhaps caused by the fact that, in ages past, the du Adean family had been involved in no small number of attempts to dislodge the ruling de Galdris in order to establish themselves as the new royal family.

“Then allow me to expand upon your education, my good Lord Lestan,” Gilliam said. “It wasn’t so much an army of Saiyans who attacked us as it was more of an… advance force.” At this Lestan perked up, for what he was hearing was most likely information kept secret by the royal family over the last five-hundred or so years. Gilliam continued. “Eight-hundred Saiyans landed on our world, to survey it, and to gauge our power. It is believed that they were to take as much ground as they could hold and then await the arrival of a much larger force. Against these eight-hundred Saiyans my grandfather sent fifteen-hundred of our strongest warriors, in hopes that with such an overwhelming force the enemy would be quickly eradicated.

“And?” the Duke of Adean prompted when Gilliam stopped, lost, it seemed, in thought.

Gilliam glared at Lestan, obviously displeased by the interruption. The Duke stammered a half-hearted reply as Gilliam finally went on. “And all fifteen-hundred of our soldiers were killed, to a man. We have no official reports, but it’s said that only seventy Saiyans were killed in the battle. Seventy.” Lestan was stunned, and as such remained silent. “We kept sending wave after wave against them, and time and time again we were defeated. Their strength was staggering, and then, as if things needed to be any worse, we learned of the Saiyans’ true power. Just weeks after their arrival, there was a full moon.”

“I fail to see the significance of—”

“Interrupt me again and it will be the last mistake you ever make!” Gilliam shouted, taking a menacing step toward du Adean. The two guards at the Great Hall’s entrance prepared to come forward, but were halted by an upraised hand of their Emperor. When he spoke again, his voice was calm once more. “The light of a full moon allows a Saiyan to transform into their true form; a giant, bestial creature of unimaginable power.” Gilliam shook his head. “This went on for some time: we would fall back and lose hundreds as they rampaged, then after they reverted we would strike and win back some ground, and they would retaliate and we would find ourselves on the run once again. Over and over, for years this pattern continued until Eramus managed to deal them such a critical blow that they were forced to retreat from our world.” He gazed directly into Lestan’s golden eyes, as if trying to impart some small portion of the alarm that gripped him. “So yes, I am worried about the damage that even one Saiyan could cause. I pray you are worried as well.” He climbed the stairs and returned once more to his throne, brushing aside a few errant strands of his dark green hair. “Now, I implore you to remember anything, to think of anything that may aid us in finding and destroying this monster…”

Duke Lestan began to sweat as he tried to think of something to tell his ruler. He clenched his eyes shut and flexed his fingers over and over, searching his mind for anything that may be of assistance. What a fool I am, Lestan thought to himself for what must have been the hundredth time since discovering the wreckage. Had I simply been more observant about the events of my own duchy, I would have known about this incident days, maybe even hours, after it had occurred. My own laziness at patrolling my lands may cost everything! A cold fear washed over him as Gilliam continued to stare down at him, unblinking. And on top of everything else, I’ve more than likely lost any chance at taking Ellia as my wife. Damn it all!

Suddenly a thought crossed the nobleman’s mind. Ellia would have been on her way back to her estates on the very day that the pod came down, he realized. Surely she must have seen something; it is no secret what route she uses to move between her estate and Adean lands, the very same area where the wreckage was found. If this were true, than it would mean… Yes, she must have seen something; there is no way that such a momentous event would go unnoticed by one as intelligent and observant as her. But if that is the case, and she is withholding that information from her cousin the Emperor, it could mean that—

“I’m still waiting, du Adean,” Gilliam said, his voice carrying down from the dais and interrupting Lestan’s train of thought. “Well?” he prompted.

“My Lord,” the Duke said finally, his voice feeling scratchy and his throat dry. His lips curled into a disconcerting smile as he said, “there is something that has just sprung to my mind…”

“I’m listening.”

--

To be concluded in:

“A Price To Be Paid”

The “Survivor” Epilogue