Unless he could somehow muster enough energy to defend himself. Attacking was foolish at this point. Nappa had been formidable before his power-up, and now that his strength had increased exponentially---Trunks knew that he was in trouble. Even Cell had not had this kind of advantage over him. If only I could get this damned collar off! he thought angrily. He could sense Nappa's power, throbbing at a level much greater than what he was currently able to muster---but still weak compared to Trunks' true power. He'd been more powerful than that when he'd been a boy, scrapping with the Cyborgs as the last Super Saiya-jin after Gohan's death, and after the training he'd done to face Cell, he'd almost reached the next level of Super Saiya-jin power. He'd been working towards that level, slowly, for the past few years . . . but now it looked like he might not have the chance to reach that goal.
Taking another step back from his approaching enemy, Trunks found his eyes drawn out over the hills, toward the city ruins, where Shiatar faced her own nemesis. He could feel that they, too, had both powered up---both of them? Then Radditz, too, was a Super Saiya-jin. It seemed that Shiatar had been wrong in her assumption that Vejiita would be the only real threat when she returned to her world. He focused again on Nappa, and deliberately put his former student out of his mind. Shiatar would have to take care of herself.
He couldn't help her now.
Nappa smiled, and for the first time, the Saiya-jin's tail unwrapped from his waist, curling fastidiously upward before it touched the ground. Trunks noted this, realizing what it meant. Saiya-jin were careful of their tails, considering the appendages the source of their power---Son Gokuu had belied that myth when he'd become the first Super Saiya-jin, without a tail---so for Nappa to release the appendage from its usual protective position around his waist could mean only one thing: Nappa knew that the fight was over. He considered Trunks no threat.
"I see that you're familiar with my new form," said the Saiya-jin. "I shouldn't be surprised; when you powered up a few moments ago, I realized that you would have become a Super Saiya-jin yourself if not for the collar. I'm impressed; perhaps you are worthy of your claim of royal blood. Not that it matters. You're still half human."
Trunks ground his teeth. "You're right. If not for this collar, you'd have a real challenge."
Nappa paused in his approach, apparently considering. Then he smiled. "No. I could release you from the collar, as you have guessed; both Radditz and I have the code-words that will cause the device to detach. But I will not. As much as I appreciate a challenge, I also have a task to complete. My prince has given me his orders." He smiled at the oblique reference to his version of Trunks' father. "I am to punish Ko Shiatar the demi-Saiyin rebel and runaway slave. And if killing you serves as an additional torment to her, then my task is clear."
Trunks nodded in acceptance. "I won't go without a fight."
"So be it." And it began.
Radditz came screaming at Shiatar, his fists flying so fast that a human observer would have seen nothing. But Shiatar blocked the blows with movements just as fast, and drifted backward, out over the old city ruins near the Capsule Corporation, letting him press his attack. She was studying him, seeing how his transformation into Super Saiya-jin had altered his fighting style and strength; he was much faster and stronger, but his actual skills did not seem to have changed. Of course, he could only have become a Super Saiya-jin within the last year or so, since Vejiita had reached that level; she might be only a little newer to this form than he. Which was good, because Radditz was bigger than her and older; he had greater reach and more experience to help him use that advantage. Now that their respective levels had evened out, she'd have to use every trick she'd ever learned, from the arena, Trunks, and cold hard life, to win.
Radditz had apparently been examining her also, because abruptly he smashed through her blocked arms with one powerful blow, hitting her high in the chest, and while her breastbone prevented any real damage, the strike knocked the wind out of her and drove her backwards, flying across the sky above the ruined city. She recovered immediately, not surprised to see that her ex-mate had followed the attack, and was streaking at her with fist cocked.
She'd studied him enough. It was her turn.
She caught his fist as he came flying at her, and turning, let him shoot past her; she jammed his elbow with the heel of her hand. This was his artificial arm; striking it hurt her hand, but she felt the metal give way, its joint overstressed by the blow. Radditz's eyes widened as pain receptors in the arm relayed their messages to his brain, and Shiatar released him, dancing back and out of the way. Like with Trunks, she'd decided that a distance battle was the best option, one in which she used a hit-and-run strategy to weaken her opponent over time. It seemed to be a sound decision. Radditz's shining new arm now dangled by a few strands of wire and tubing.
Radditz turned, his face twisted in pain and rage---and then he smiled. He held his injured arm out from his side, and Shiatar started in consternation.
The arm was healing visibly, wires reconnecting, tubes resealing, the very metal fusing even as she watched. She cursed silently to herself, realizing that she'd underestimated him again. Radditz was one of the Elite, those at the top of Vejiita's private sub-Empire; of course he had access to the best technology that the Empire could produce. She'd intended for that attack to have a real effect . . .
The arm had not yet finished its healing when Radditz attacked again, lunging at her so unexpectedly that she almost didn't react in time, darting away; he caught her by the ankle and flipped her, flinging her toward the ground and adding a sharp twist of his wrist that sent a shock of agony through Shiatar. She cried out as she was flung, so fast that her body sang through the air, into one of the half-standing skyscrapers below. She smashed through the building's outer wall and through several floors, shattering whatever precarious structure that had kept the building upright all these years; the ruin shuddered and then collapsed, tons of rubble smashing down on her. The cloud that rose from the demolished building covered this half of the city.
Radditz smiled and licked his lips again, his tail flicking with amusement. He floated down to find her.
Trunks leaped aside as Nappa's massive fist plunged past him like a cannonball, and he grunted with effort as he blocked the big Saiya-jin's kick. His arms already ached with the difficulty of blocking Nappa's blows, but his mind was working furiously. Only by anticipating Nappa's attacks would he survive.
It helped, at least, that Nappa was predictable. The giant warrior had no particular style or technique beyond brute force, and Trunks was agile enough even without the power of the Super Saiya-jin to avoid the deadliest of Nappa's blows. Another came at him now as Nappa swung around, putting his whole body behind his fist as he drove it at Trunks' body; Trunks lunged to one side, swiveling at the hips to dance around the attack. But Nappa showed a rare moment of incredible speed, and swung his leg to sweep Trunks' feet; as he fell, he saw Nappa's grin of triumph. Gritting his teeth---it wasn't over yet, damn it---he rolled with the fall and came up right in front of Nappa's feet. And while he ordinarily tried to fight with some sense of honor, he didn't have that luxury right now. Without hesitation he shaped his hand into a fist and drove it up into Nappa's crotch.
The resulting impact was satisfying, to say the least. Nappa made a strange gargling sound and doubled over, his eyes bulging; Trunks rolled away and to his feet again, gasping desperately for air in the brief respite. He was tired, much more tired than he should have been at this stage, but that was the effect of the restraining collar. Regardless of the reason, his tiredness had begun to work against him.
Slowly Nappa straightened, and his eyes were vicious. "You will die slowly for that," he snarled at Trunks. "I was ready to grant you the honor of a swift demise, for you are an excellent warrior, even hobbled by the collar. But I will not be humiliated by a lowly demi-Saiyin!"
Trunks smiled, ignoring the pain in his lip. "I told you I wouldn't die easily."
Nappa spat off to the side. "True. And if you are Vejiita's son, then I suppose I should have expected your tenacity. But that matters little. I am Saiya-jin, warrior of the mightiest race in the universe. You are nothing more than the bastard son of my prince's momentary lapse with a human female. Your blood is not fit to touch me, but I will lower myself to spill it!"
Trunks felt his temper flare, and although he knew he should have controlled it and reserved his energy, he didn't care any longer. "My blood," he gritted through his teeth, "is too good to be spilled by an underling, a bodyguard---my father killed you in this world, Nappa, because you were a nuisance. A weakling! Obviously the Vejiita of your world has not learned to weed out weaknesses from among his soldiers; perhaps I should do him a favor remedy that error!"
Nappa roared in fury and came at him, and for a few moments, Trunks' anger sustained him against the Super Saiya-jin's assault. But Nappa did not relent, pressing the attack closer and closer, even when Trunks stopped defending and began avoiding blows; in the air again, they had drifted off and were now hovering over the ruined city. At that point, Trunks' weariness caught up with him; he lowered his guard, just a bit---and Nappa's fist caught him in the shoulder. He gasped, falling, feeling the broken ends of his collarbone grate together---and then Nappa's foot met his back and introduced itself. Trunks couldn't even cry out; his body arched in agony, only to be hit from the other side by the giant's fist. He choked, blood flying from his mouth, and then a massive hand caught him by the head, letting him dangle limply. Trunks managed to open his eyes and wished he hadn't. Nappa's glowing face was right in front of his, golden moustache twitching with cruel amusement.
"Now, demi-Saiyin," said the big warrior, "you die."
Trunks could do nothing but watch as Nappa formed a fist, and sent it, full-powered, at his body. The pain was stunning, worse than when he'd fought Cell, for at least he'd been a Super Saiya-jin at that time. Nappa's fist sank up to the wrist into Trunks' midriff, and although it did not break the skin, Trunks felt something inside himself give way agonizingly. But Nappa wasn't done; he continued with a flurry of blows, all full-powered, striking Trunks all over his face and body. Through a dim haze, Trunks gradually became aware that the blows had stopped and that he was free, and with effort, he opened his eyes.
To see a ki-ball the size of a bus hurtling at him.
He closed his eyes. There was nothing left in him, and for a second he simply waited, hoping that at least it would be over with quickly---and then his sense of self-preservation kicked in. It wasn't in him to lay down and die. And damn it all, he certainly wouldn't die without a fight . . .
Mustering all of his remaining strength, Trunks braced himself and met the ball with his hands, struggling to keep it from disintegrating him with its sheer power. He succeeded in that much, but the ball smashed into him as it dissipated, driving him down into the ruins of the city. He shot, his skin and clothing smoking, toward a thicket of pipes and girders jutting up from the remains of a building, and when he crashed into the debris, he was surprised to hear a voice screaming, and realize that it was his own. Two of the jagged, rusty pipes jutted from his torso, one from his shoulder just below the collarbone and the other from his abdomen, respectively; he was impaled on them.
And Nappa, arms folded, was floating down slowly for the kill.
Radditz floated through the settling rubble, his senses open for any sign of Shiatar's ki. His tail flicked with anticipation, and he drew the collaring gun from his belt; he didn't want to kill her just yet. He would collar her, if he could, and then he would show her how gentle he'd been, four years ago---
He heard it before he sensed it, and because sound travels more slowly than light, he had only begun to turn when the ki-blast struck him side-on. The gun was destroyed instantly, along with a good portion of his clothing; tattered rags fluttering in the wind, he was flung backward toward a pile of cracked asphalt that had once been a city street, and slammed into it hard enough to shake the ground.
Shiatar rose from the burned-out building she'd hidden in, lowering her hands. That should teach the bastard to break her ankle.
Radditz struggled up and out of the indentation he'd made in the ground, his expression murderous. Shiatar noted with satisfaction that the gun was gone, and she smiled. "Stupid. Did you think I'd hold still and let you shoot one of those things at me?"
"It doesn't matter," her adversary growled. "I can take you without the collar." He shot at her.
But Shiatar had the measure of him now; Radditz was swift, deadly, and powerful, but not as much as she was. More importantly, she was startled to realize how easy it was for her to anticipate Radditz's movements---until she recalled that Trunks had drilled her, prior to her attainment of Super Saiya-jin, in avoiding lightning-fast, completely random attacks. The fighting style she'd been forced to develop during sparring with him had made little sense to her at the time---it was too difficult, even at her highest power level at the time, to maintain the level of awareness that was required for any length of time---but suddenly she understood. It was easy, as a Super Saiya-jin, to think several moves ahead; the power and the speed boosts were matched by an increase in mental clarity and instinctive fighting skill. Trunks had been training her, even before she gained the power, to fight as a Super Saiya-jin, using the gifts of that level to their fullest. Radditz, it seemed, had had no such training; Super Saiya-jin or not, he was fighting as if he was an ordinary Saiya-jin.
She grinned, as Radditz came at her, and dropped, ducking his fist, flipping down to kick him in the chin. He made a noise of pain, and she blurred behind him to smash her clasped fists into the back of his neck. Before he could go far she met him and sent a few dozen quick punches into his face before he could block, and followed up with a few dozen more to his belly. She finished with a flourish, turning in a lovely double roundhouse kick to smash into his face and his unprotected side.
There was a sound like a breaking tree-limb, and she smiled to see cracks radiate out from where she'd kicked his armor. She'd felt a few ribs go, too, and from the way his face had dented, she suspected that she'd broken his cheekbone as well. He drifted off to the side, frozen in shock and pain, and Shiatar started forward again to play with him a little more---
---and she gasped, as an impression of terrible, mortal agony swept through her mind. Instantly she swung about. Trunks!
She could see him, far below, lying in a man-shaped imprint in what was left of a concrete building. But he lay among a virtual pincushion of broken pipes and metalwork . . . and as she stared, she realized in horror that he was part of that pincushion . . .
Something hit her from behind high in the back, and she gasped, cursing inwardly at her lapse of attention. But she quickly corrected her error, curling herself into a ball to use her momentum and then uncurling to drive both feet into his stomach. Radditz choked, doubling over, and then Shiatar moved behind him to drive a truly thunderous punch into the back of his neck. She'd aimed carefully; Radditz flew straight into the ground near where Trunks lay, raising a mound of rubble and catching the attention of Trunks' assailant.
Nappa walked toward the young demi-Saiyin man, adjusting his wrist-guards as he walked; he didn't want to get too much blood on his armor. For a moment he sighed, unhappily; he could look into his adversary's face and see the truth of his claim of royal blood, and out of his long loyalty to the house of Vejiita, the idea of spilling that blood, even tainted as it was by human genes, was unpleasant. For some unknown reason, the Vejiita of this world had fathered a son on a human woman and let the child live. He couldn't understand that, but then, although it had been explained to him, he didn't really comprehend the implications of the existence of other, parallel worlds, worlds where perhaps the Saiyan Empire had not risen to control the entire galaxy, or where the mighty prince of the Saiya-jin could be felled by such a thing as love. Had he known the truth about Trunks' world, it would have been impossible for him to believe that his Prince could be defeated, that the Saiyan homeworld and everyone on it could be destroyed, and that a demi-Saiyin could be more powerful than a Saiya-jin. It simply didn't fit in with the reality he'd known his whole life, the truths he'd never questioned. He was a warrior, and a loyal servant of the Empire. That was all he needed to understand.
But he paused in his advance on the boy, as a singing sound and the sense of a rapidly approaching ki alerted him. Startled, he leaped aside, as Radditz's body plummeted into the ground where he'd been standing.
Amazed, Nappa went over to the pile of debris that had been raised by the impact, reached in with one massive fist, and plucked out the master of the Inquisitors. Radditz had all but begged to be allowed to come on this mission, to avenge himself against this demi-Saiyin girl who had somehow mutilated him---Nappa hadn't thought much of Radditz, after that---so what the hell was he doing grubbing around in the dirt? Was the girl actually beating him?
Setting Radditz on his feet and holding him up while he recovered, Nappa glance up into the sky to spy the girl, floating above them. So she was a Super Saiya-jin as well; no wonder Radditz was having a difficult time subduing her. Nappa was impressed. He looked down at his companion again, who was reviving quickly.
"Radditz. The girl is more powerful than you anticipated. Would you like for me to help you---"
The smaller warrior shook off his supporting hand abruptly, fully alert now. "No, damn you. I can take her alone. You stay out of it!"
Gathering his ki, Radditz shot off. Nappa watched them clinically for a moment, as his fellow Elite engaged the rebel girl in midair, exchanging uncountable attacks; the girl's power was greater than that of the Saiya-jin warrior. For a moment Nappa was startled, and then he frowned; she was playing with Radditz as he watched. Playing with one of the Elite! Radditz was in over his head.
Casting a glance back at the still form lying amid the pipes, Nappa dismissed his own adversary. The boy would bleed to death on his own presently. But the girl . . . such insolence could not go unpunished. Radditz was unbalanced anyhow, going to such trouble over a girl, a demi-Saiyin slave at that; his pride would have to suffer.
Nappa took off in the direction of their battle.
Shiatar smacked Radditz aside, half-paying attention as she tried to get a look at Trunks, down below. His ki was weak, and she couldn't tell whether that was the effect of the restraining collar or some injury---
Abruptly her attention was pulled back to her fight, as something like a god-sized jackhammer slammed into her back repeatedly, catching her completely off-guard and drilling her down toward the ground. Shaking her head to clear it, she turned---and a fist that was larger than her head came out of nowhere, sending stars exploding across her vision. She fell, stunned.
Above her, Radditz turned to snarl at Nappa. "What are you doing? I told you to stay out of it!"
"You are disgracing yourself and the Saiya-jin," Nappa replied angrily. "I am interfering because that cannot be allowed. You are an Elite; your reputation reflects upon the Prince himself."
"The fucking Prince isn't here!" Radditz shouted back. "No one's here that gives a damn about my reputation!"
Nappa fixed the smaller man with a cold stare. "I am here," he said implacably. "And if you allow that slave to defeat you, you can be assured that I will inform the Prince of your disgrace. I will, for now, overlook your lapse of respect in referring to His Highness a moment ago. Now. Will you allow me to aid you, or must I aid the Prince when we return---in selecting a new Minister of Intelligence?"
Radditz glared at him, his hate almost palpable, and for a moment Nappa sensed that the smaller warrior was ready to attack him---but abruptly he controlled himself. "I will settle this with you later, then," Radditz promised him, his expression savage. "After she is defeated. In private."
Nappa nodded. He would look forward to the contest.
Together, they started after Shiatar.
Trunks wavered in and out of consciousness, only vaguely aware of his life bleeding away from the wounds in his chest and abdomen. Distantly he knew he was dying, and it didn't bother him much; he'd died before, after all. He didn't really have many regrets. He'd met his father---had that dream of a few nights before been real?---and the legendary Son Gokuu, he'd witnessed the magnificent manifestation of Gohan's power as he went beyond Super Saiya-jin, he'd changed the future and returned to destroy the Cyborgs and avenge everyone they'd slain. He'd accomplished rather a lot for someone his age, and could see no reason for regrets . . .
But dimly, a voice whispered in his mind, denying that conclusion. He was dying in a battle against a warrior so weak that he would be no threat, if not for the crippling device around his neck; that stung his pride badly. And now that two had broken through into his world, it was only a matter of time before the rest of the Saiya-jin of Shiatar's Earth came to follow. He'd spent his life trying to protect this world; it didn't sit easily with him that it might soon be just another part of the Saiyan Empire. And then . . . there was Shiatar. Trunks wouldn't delude himself that there had been anything between him and the lovely warrior, but he had hoped, half-heartedly . . .
The sound of Shiatar's voice stirred him from his daze, and he made an effort, opening his eyes. She was shouting something unintelligible; he strained to make it out---
And then he realized what the sound was. Shiatar was screaming.
Trunks lies dying while Shiatar is double-teamed by Radditz and Nappa! Can things get any worse? Is there any way that Shiatar can win against two Super Saiya-jin? Is this the end for Trunks? Or does the crippled warrior have one last chance? In the next episode, "I AM MY FATHER'S SON!!" THE BATTLE CONCLUDES!!!
