Planet to Planet
Chapter Four
A duet of wide and low bells sang throughout the desolate corridors. The song carried a light, fun-filled tune as Inu Taicho and Rato Manaloto joked about their past experiences in life and career. It was all to make their work less burdening and the quakes in their bellies less noticeable, allowing the time to go as quick as a lightning bolt. During these moments, no one would ever suspect that these two were part of the most wanted criminal gang is this sector of the North Galaxy.
The two lime-painted Pairetos found very little significant treasure to bring back to the Senchuu as proof that they deserved dinner. All they found was old clothes and out-dated armor; though they could be sold for a fortune to museums and noblemen, Shõgun would not approve of hauling ancient tools and accessories on the ship. Alas, smuggling was not an advantageous skill the Pairetos carried; to even try to carry the items downstairs would be suicide.
Taicho and Manaloto could easily go back to the Senchuu and announce that there aren't anymore goods left hiding in the walls from invaders such as themselves. It would be an easy call; they could get the meal they have been longing for and get off the planet a day early, so it would be much harder for the Colossal Police to track them down. However, Shõgun was a rigorous and persistent fellow. He would ask questions primarily about the last few levels. He knew when the other Pairetos were lying. It was the effects of being stuck with one another for a decade straight. So Taicho and Manaloto both and together would fail to convince Shõgun that they had done all levels of the building.
Even persuading Kone Shõgun would be a difficult task. He was dedicated to getting the job done the right way without skipping over any stepping-stones to arrive at the end of the mission. He believed in keeping a promise to everything. Many times the Roisei-jin, Taicho, and Manaloto found it downright annoying. From time to time the slightest bit of a rebellion broke out to force Shõgun to be flexible. It never worked then, though; there was no chance that it would work now.
In that case, Taicho and Manaloto were stuck doing the job. Luckily they knew how to get it done faster without rushing through Shõgun's process.
On the fourth level of the Planet Trade's old command center, the two Butsudo-jin were having a lively conversation while they both checked each rusty locker in the hall. They almost completed this level, since there were only the unexamined cabinets left to do as well as inspecting the closets on this level. The cheery mood the couple was generating combined with their knowledge of being over halfway through the entire building helped them along even further.
Including the tower levels, there were about ten to twelve floors. According to Shõgun's rules of scavenging, it was best to always work from the top down. That way, if there was ever a chance that the Pairetos would have to make a fast escape it would be done in a more efficient way. Shõgun knew that, Taicho and Manaloto knew that, the Roisei-jin knew that. Even the Colossal Police knew of this important concept. Sadly, they had never taken that into account whenever they had the chance to arrest the Paireto team.
A large crash of metal impacting into metal bounced off the walls of the corridors. Manaloto's frustration finally seeped through, for he was the one who slammed one of the lockers shut. Unfortunately for the lone metal box, the force of the hit was too strong and the rusty hinges allowed the door to swing open before it collapsed to the floor. A similar vibration rang throughout the empty halls, overpowering the dark-skinned Butsudo-jin's curse.
"There are too many useless uniforms in these things!" Manaloto wailed, facing Taicho with a mask of exasperation. "I can't believe how strict the Planet Trade was with their dress code!"
Taicho quickly glanced at his companion before turning his attention back to shuffling through the locker he was going through. "They might just have a lot of suits per person," he pointed out. "After all, who likes to wear the same dirty clothes day after day without washing it."
"Ragua," Manaloto counterattacked. He wasn't exactly putting down the Roisei-jin, for it was completely true. However, it was an insult for both Butsudo-jin and Roisei-jin --the Roisei-jin race never wore clothing. It was against their tradition and their pride. Nevertheless, Ragua Nica was apparently against the system and wore whatever he pleased. What he chose to wear was the same clothes he fought, stole, and slept in. His fellow Pairetos did not enjoy the obnoxious stench.
"He doesn't count," Taicho shot back. He gently closed another locker door shut and marched towards Manaloto. "He's just a queer."
"How do we know that the Planet Trade weren't ones either?" Manaloto questioned in accusation. "They were the people who killed people on their own planet and rid of the bodies like daily trash! All because their clients want to rule a planet for themselves! An empty planet, at that. I mean, who wants an empty planet to rule? Surely not me."
"They also cleared out planets for a new base," Taicho stepped into Manaloto's raving with a fact he learned during his younger years. "They could never learn how to live with the natives, treaty or no treaty. You know, I still think it's a miracle that-"
"Miracles don't exist, Taicho," Manaloto cut in. His face was arranged to represent fire, for he did not like what the other Butsudo-jin was about to say. "I wish Shõgun would make that a rule, because nothing happens in an instant."
There was a hidden meaning in those words and Taicho knew what it was as easily as he knew how to count. Manaloto despised the Planet Trade as if he had a grudge against them. Perhaps he did, but not even Shõgun bothered to ask him for a confirmation. Whenever it came to this trade federation, Manaloto showed more anger than he did of anything else. It would be expected that he would hate the Colossal Police, but like how the other Pairetos felt, the cops were just another obstacle that they enjoyed to drive to insanity.
Taicho mumbled an apology to him. He pulled open the last locker of the row and on the level in silence. Manaloto waited grimly behind him, and it was only a few instants later did Taicho regretted bringing the conversation to the Planet Trade. He knew he should be more careful with his words, for someday that may call his demise in the dishonorable way. In fact, there were many times in which he wished he could take back what he said previously for he always came up with something better in his mind sometime later. How he wished he could be just as witty as Manaloto!
Immediately after the slam of the locker echoed in the Butsudo-jins' ears, Manaloto finally spoke up. "We're finished with this level now, aren't we? Can we just go and tell Shõgun we were not successful at all?"
"No, because we aren't finished with this level yet," Taicho reminded him. He spun on his heel to face his darker companion. "We still have to get through these closets and rooms before we can go back down. And Shõgun was supposed to catch up, remember?"
Manaloto shook his head, his enraged face easing up little by little. "Two arguments there, Taicho. One: Yes we are finished. We'll just be going around in circles again." And to make his point, he waved a hand towards an open doorway just decameters ahead of them. Taicho knew that debate was lost immediately. "Two: Shõgun was supposed to have caught up with us a long time ago. I don't think he'll be coming. So let's just go."
"So this entire hall was just filled with lockers and storage rooms all along, weren't they?" Taicho smiled wryly. In unison the duo started to tramp towards the staircase with nothing in their hands. That would surely disappoint Shõgun. Even so, they knew that they would have some time after dinner and before they left the next day to scavenge through the last stacks and piles of potential treasure. "I suppose we could just go back to the Senchuu. We really have nothing to lose, right?"
"Now you're seeing my point," Manaloto grinned triumphantly. Both Butsudo-jin chuckled in no particular amusement at anything. They just did for the Hell of it.
They kept that up until they heard a crash vibrate past their bodies with a rather vulgar word following it. Both knew immediately that was not Shõgun, for he never had such an offensive vocabulary. A pair of sea green hands flew to a black belt at the Butsudo-jins' waists and came back down to their prior stance with a sleek, charcoal pistol placed in the center of their palms. They were not going to take any chances with this loot stealer.
It was a good thing that Panboukin delivered the scouters before he went to find clothing and armor. Miraculously, he found the scouters before he found uniforms as well, thus creating an excellent form of communication among the three Saiya-jin. Celipa could not get to her scouter yet, for she was still locked up in the rejuvenation tank. So whenever Toma started to enjoy the conversation with Panboukin by just laughing, her scowl was enough to scare off plenty of men no matter what race they were.
Toma had thought of it as amusing for a little while. After he started to enjoy talking to Panboukin a little too much, however, he couldn't help but to try to force himself into silence shortly after glancing at his female companion. Since it was unnatural for someone to have his eyes open during the healing process, Celipa could not see how much fun he really was having, but hearing was a different story altogether. He knew that she could hear every word that he was speaking and every guffaw he broke out into. Therefore, she knew he was enjoying himself.
Celipa did not like it.
He knew he shouldn't be intimidated by her reactions to his conversation. She had no power to do anything to satisfy herself at the moment. He also doubted she would have any strength to injure him later, although she will be able to bruise both his body and pride, especially if she did so in front of the other two Saiya-jin. Women knew how to get revenge.
Most men showed very little respect for women and vice versa. But in cases such as this the women had the upper hand; as every male knows, female fury was not to be challenged.
"I still can't believe how much of an asshole Kacha always was," the voice on the other end commented while keeping his reputation of swinging conversations around to his liking. "I hope he's dead. And not by old age, either."
Toma chuckled as lightly as he could, but with Celipa's deepened scowls he knew that she could hear him still. He just had to make a comment, though, to keep the conversation lasting. "He probably got killed twice by the other Saiya-jin before getting killed by the excess of scars on his body. You know, because he was so persistent to not get into those tanks."
The last sentence Toma purposely spoke loud enough so that Celipa could hear him clearly. He did not intend to annoy her further, but to make a point to her about her earlier persistence that was so similar to Kacha's, especially since Celipa hated him more than anybody else did. There were too many things that he did to her and attempted to do to her. She was even close to moving herself out of the team because of him; she knew that he was making attacks on her merely because she was on the team that he once used to belong to. At least until Bardock kicked him out because of his trouble-making deeds.
"Bardock still should've killed him instead of letting him live," Panboukin said time and time again, and he even said it as his response. "It would've made everybody's lives much better!"
Toma laughed in agreement. That was yet another bad move. Including the last thing the sub-leader said, the laughter provoked Celipa a little over the line. She pulled her eyebrows together and squinted her closed eyes, her lips pursed together to a thin line. Toma could only imagine two tight fists taking form during this time.
He inhaled a huff of air, and continued to speak with his comrade on the other end. "If you want the truth, I still can't-"
"Quiet for a second," Panboukin cut in, and then a small click reached Toma's ears. For a couple seconds all he heard was static, a sign that Panboukin had turned his scouter off. Why Panboukin had felt the need to do that was unexplainable, but Toma didn't feel like asking. Or rather, he couldn't ask, even if he wanted to.
Even Totepo's scouter was offline during this time merely because he wanted to do his work without getting sidetracked. Toma couldn't blame him; after all, working with computers was something new for the Saiya-jin. It would get frustrating after a little while, and Toma knew all a little too well.
It was probably for the best, anyway.
Another click came through the scouter and a ringing noise was left in the background. "What-" Toma began again, but Panboukin still cut him off.
"There might be other people in here," he informed in a qualified whisper. "But keep quiet so I can find out."
Toma grew a skeptical expression on his face. He knew that his companion was dramatizing over some rodents. This was an abandoned building; there was bound to be a lot of those creatures scrambling about. That opinion quickly changed once he heard restaurant chatter just underneath Panboukin's breathing.
Toma wanted to yell at him to remind him that there was nothing a Saiya-jin could not handle. However, there were several reasons for him not doing so. Both could have been hallucinating, though it was unlikely. After all, the assassins back on Meatsei easily killed the four Saiya-jin. The strength of aliens might have changed during the time that they were dead. Those voices might have been veterans of the Planet Trade. He only hoped it wasn't anybody from the Cold family.
While Toma waited for a response of any kind from Panboukin, he seized the moment to check on Celipa's status. He understood the computers a little, but the havoc both had been through as he tried to figure out how to work the rejuvenation tanks helped Celipa's agitation greatly. At least he was able to tell the estimated amount of time left for her to be in that bubble.
He tentatively typed a couple keys in like an untaught student before he stood back to watch for any golden symbols that were to appear on the screen. After a night of ten seconds, a pair of numbers followed by a dozen letters showed up. He read the report and became vaguely in the mix of confusion. Was it a good thing or a bad thing that she only had a few minutes left in the tank? Especially after he involuntarily allowed her to know that he was having a good time conversing with a companion!
In hopes to bring her spirits up even the slightest bit, he announced the amount of time she had left. It was then that he knew that it was a bad thing she was getting out soon; a rather menacing smirk flashed upon her face. Toma had nearly forgotten how vengeful she could get and knew that he was to pay the price in a short while. He could only be thankful that the conversations had ended between Panboukin and him, so the bruises would probably not be as bad if they did continue on.
Unfortunately, such serenity could not last. The noise that caught Toma's attention was a cry of, "Aw, shit!" He immediately recognized that voice as Panboukin's and was about to ask if anything happened. Then again, the conversation over the scouter was enough to tell him what was happening.
"Ha! So the loot stealer is a mere rodent!" a voice of an arrogant relief spoke. Toma could easily hear Panboukin repeat the last word in antipathy, though this alien could not. Maybe.
A second voice piped up, sounding a little more than annoyed. "So we shouldn't waste anytime on him. Let's just leave it alone and get back to the ship."
"And just who the hell are you two?" Panboukin's voice demanded towards the two speaking aliens. "It doesn't look like you're from the Planet Trade, what with that," a momentarily pause --Toma could picture him staring at whatever attire the aliens had on in disgust, "clothing."
The arrogance of the first voice still remained when he spoke. Toma decided to dub him 'Prig' for now, until a validation of his name was available. "Why the hell would I ever be interested into the Planet Trade? But by judging from your type of clothing I have no choice but to assume you were in the Planet Trade and still decide to wear its insignia." A large click echoed in the halls and produced a hollow snap in Toma's scouter. "I despise you."
This led Toma to wondering if the Planet Trade had left some inhabitants of planets still remaining and came close to condemning them for that; however, he quickly remembered that he, too, had made that mistake once. Could there have been more than one Kanassasei survivor? But what was that click all about? Was it a gun? Did he really think a mere gun could take down any member of the Planet Trade? Prig must be tremendously illiterate with the way Freeza hired races. Most Planet Trade members never used guns and actually used a little something called 'Ki'.
Everyone that was in the Planet Trade knew this. Most of the time the guns caused no damage to them. So Panboukin just laughed and asked, "This is some sort of joke, isn't it? You really think that-"
He was cut off immediately, and judging by the sound of a bird attack Toma could only assume that the Prig pulled the trigger. He could not think anything else, for Panboukin yelped. If Toma didn't know any better, he would say that his companion was just putting on a show. Either way, he was still surprised by his muffled mumbling that indicated that the shot hurt. Badly.
Toma now knew better than to overestimate his comrades in any situation and became determined to aide Panboukin in this battle. Or at least make sure that he wouldn't do anything stupid. There was at least one other accompanying the Prig, so why not make the fight fair as far as the number of people went? Sure, on Meatsei it was a four-on-four slaughter fest, but that was in the past. That was different.
Like Toma told himself earlier, the strength of many different alien races might have changed during the time that they were dead.
"Panboukin, I'm going to meet you up there," he informed as he turned away from Celipa. He managed to leap four steps before a cross voice responded to his insinuation of helplessness.
"Damn it, this thing is still on, isn't it?" Panboukin muttered into the scouter, with the click of the gun and the Prig's haughty taunts in the background. "It doesn't hurt that much; I can manage these pair of slime-ridden creatures in no time!"
"So, why haven't you gotten rid of them yet?" Toma asked smugly, despite the critical situation Panboukin --no, they were in. He was already out the door of the medical center and headed for the stairway. "Hey, it's best not to take chances anymore, now is it?"
With a roar of fury, Toma knew that Panboukin had launched himself at his attackers. He could not blame him. Although the quartet had changed in some way, there were just some things that never changed.
Including being there for each other.