Prologue: Escape
...down... down...down...
Pressure against his chest... the surge and stutter of water around him... the shock of transformation, the pain of the Saiyan's last blast forcing him back into his usual form...
He fought his eyes open, instincts from his childhood halting his automatic gasp for breath before it was taken, and flapped feebly at the water that surrounded him.
... weak...
Too weak to reach the surface...
Lungs burning, he wriggled out of what was left of his body-armour, boots, armsheaths, and flailed upwards, arms moving haphazardly, vision hazing with oxygen starvation. Then, with one last desperate stroke, he could breathe again...
Gasping, coughing, he lay back on the water, floating, too weak to move for the moment. Wondering why the hell Vejiita hadn't killed him.
I'll have to remember to ask him...
He giggled, then caught himself. He was hardly in a position to laugh.
Wearily, he rolled over and swam towards the shore, struggling to keep his arms and legs moving, dragging himself half out of the water and lying still, grateful just to have survived. It was an hour before he found the strength to pull himself completely onto the bank.
He rolled onto his back on the blue turf, exhausted, mind drifting, gazing up at the green sky of Namek. The pale hue reminded him of Zarakyu...
He frowned.
He should try to make his way back to Furiizaa...
But the thought of his brother gave him pause.
Zarakyu had given in to Furiju - and yet not submitted. He'd remained... himself.
I fought back. Look where it got me. 'Furiizaa's whore' indeed. I am nothing.
But he'd known nothing but servitude for decades. The thought of anything else panicked him.
He clenched his teeth, deliberately taking slow, deep breaths, calming himself, forcing back the fear.
He must get back to Furiizaa...
Why?
Why? Because Furiizaa was his master, because if he didn't Furiizaa would kill him. Or worse...
And if Furiizaa believes you're already dead?
I must still go back.
Why?
Because... because... I don't know what else to do! I don't know any other life!
You're scared.
He laughed weakly. Damn right he was scared! Scared of what Furiizaa would do if he found out. Scared of the very idea of having to take responsibility for his own actions. Scared to be alone...
You have been alone for most of your life. Truly alone, amongst aliens who use you, abuse you, take from you everything that means anything at all. Could this be any worse?
He stared at the sky. Remembering...
He couldn't recall exactly what he'd done to anger the changeling. He might not have done anything at all, it could just have been Furiizaa's mood.
The seventh being had just left him, grumbling about his lack of response. Response? How was he supposed to respond? The gross, scaly, purple thing that had been sixth in line had used its four hands to grip his upper arms so tightly that they'd snapped. He couldn't move without the ends of the bones grating together - which hadn't stopped this alien from turning him over onto his lacerated back before mounting him...
He preferred to be on his stomach. That way he didn't have to look at the ugly procession of creatures Furiizaa inflicted on him. This one - this one had wanted to kiss him. And had bitten his lip, hard, when he tried to resist. Blood trickling freely down his cheek, he'd given in, gone limp, let the creature's tongue invade his mouth while the cluster of thin, slippery tubes at its groin had invaded his body. At least this one didn't hurt so much. Well, not enough to make any appreciable difference to the pain already spearing through him.
It came with a rush, adding its own slimy mess to that already seeping from him - worse, it apparently had some similar reaction in some organ in its throat: his mouth was suddenly filled with a thick, vile-tasting ooze. Choking, he wrenched his head sideways, gagging as he coughed the slimy grey stuff up onto the cold metal platform he half-lay upon.
Gasping, his throat burning and spasming, he waited helplessly for Furiizaa's next 'customer'...
He shuddered violently and closed his eyes.
But that was long ago... back near the beginning.
Back when you were still fighting him.
...yes...
More memories were rising behind his eyes; he forced them down. They served no useful purpose.
He had to get back to Furiizaa...
What about your brother?
What about him? What about Zarakyu?
If you were free, perhaps you could free him, too...
He stilled, unbreathing.
Was that actually possible?
You'll never know if you don't try, will you?
But - Furiizaa...
He bit his lip. He was so drained, so weakened from the fight with Vejiita, he knew his ki was at an all-time low. And with the other big powers onworld right now - he'd be drowned out. He just wouldn't be noticed.
He could take one of the Gyunyu's pods and escape...
The thought terrified him.
He closed his eyes tightly, picturing Zarakyu as he'd been when they'd last met. The sombre, capable, beautiful creature his brother had become, the pain in his eyes, in his voice, as they'd wept together. Then remembering the shy, sensitive child he'd been, how much promise he'd shown.
He pulled himself upright. Still terrified, but suddenly determined.
If Furiizaa believed him dead, he might actually have a chance. And he knew he wanted to live. A quick blast of his own ki to his heart could have put him out of his misery years ago, but he hadn't taken that way out. So he must be able to summon up a spark of courage from somewhere. Mustn't he?
He focussed again on the image of Zarakyu's face, suddenly almost tearfully glad for the mental tricks he'd eventually taught himself to make his existence less unbearable.
Don't think about it. Think about something else. Something pleasant...
He'd thought about his home, his family, to start with - but that just made things worse. Then he'd tried concentrating on how much he feared and hated the Ice Lords, how much he wanted to kill them - until he realised that simply made him tense and tight, which made the whole experience more painful. Finally he simply lay and thought of green, and gold. Only now realising it was his brother he'd been contemplating...
He knew where the Gyunyu Force pods had landed: he'd spotted them in one of his flights over the surrounding area. But he was too weak to fly, now - he'd have to walk.
And if I'm spotted - well, I can always claim I was disorientated, trying to make my way back...
He hauled himself upright and began to walk, unsteadily, wincing as stones cut into his feet, expecting every second to hear a voice demanding to know what he was doing, where he thought he was going...
But he reached the pod unchallenged, seeing no-one, wondering dully what was happening back at the ship but more concerned with his own escape. If he took off at an oblique angle, he should be able to remain unseen, at least until he was over the horizon. Then, with luck, he could set the controls for one of the as-yet unclaimed worlds, out on the rim. Quite what he'd do when he got there he didn't yet know. Enough to try to arrive in one piece: the rest he could sort out later.
He smiled grimly as he climbed in and closed the hatch. If this didn't work, if he was captured, he'd better be prepared to kill himself, because Furiizaa would never forgive him. He'd be tortured until he was nearly dead - then put into a tank, healed, and the whole thing start over again, for as long as Furiizaa saw fit. If he'd thought his life was hell before...
Shaking with exhaustion and fear, he set the co-ordinates for Hlavial before he could change his mind. His last thought, before the cryostasis sank him into cool oblivion, was of Zarakyu.
Part 1 - Solace
