An Amity Revived
Chapter One
The planet was in complete ruins. The buildings of the past were now rubble fallen to the ground. The plant life was burnt and had long since vanished. Battle scars left in the soil disappeared with the help of wind and precipitation --except for one. The inhabitants' dead bodies had decayed during time. The intruders' dead bodies now left only skeletons. Except for four.
The one that they had once worked for had betrayed these Saiya-jin. Immediately after clearing out the life on Meatsei --the planet that had become a desolate graveyard-- they were murdered by the others of the traitor's minions. Only one managed to stay alive long enough to discover the reason. It wasn't good enough for him, but he did figure out that their employer wanted all of the Saiya-jin destroyed.
This man was Toma. He was a lucky one. He was the last of the four to die on the planet, but not the last Saiya-jin on this planet to be injured severely and not the last Saiya-jin on this planet to ever be on the planet. Along with finding out the treachery of Freeza, he managed to tell the leader of the small crew everything he knew before he died.
The other three members never knew the purpose of their demise. They had died with bewilderment and much less hatred than Toma had carried when he settled into eternal sleep. It was almost a pity that their last moments were much more violent than the lives they had once lived.
Just out of nowhere, one hand twitched. At first that was all it did, but if given a few more seconds, one could see life reappearing back to the planet. The hand flattened, stretching its fingers before they curled up into a ball. Dirt piled up in the core of the fist before it was released when the hand lifted less than ten millimeters into the air, loosening the Saiya-jin's grip. It came back down to the soil, with the other mimicking in motion. The body levitated five inches from the floor before it snapped up, making the two bodies on top of his roll off.
One foot planted itself to the ground, and the other followed a few instants later. Earth fell from the Saiya-jin's hands when he brought them up with the rest of his body. He straightened his back proudly and dropped his shoulders to a leveled position. His dark pupils started to scan the horizon before the circular duet trailed down to take notice of the Saiya-jin's deceased comrades.
Then the Saiya-jin froze. The only verbal response he could give was a single word.
"What?"
Panboukin was the first of the four to be killed, after all. Therefore his bemusement was understandable. He had not witnessed the deaths of the others and had died without knowing that his companions had been slaughtered as well. However, the lack of physical and mental response was not acceptable, especially for a man such as himself. During the past he always carried quick reflexes along with great speed. Now he was stalling for reasons unknown. By now he should have given more of a reaction!
Perhaps the other part of his confounded emotion was his resurrection. He knew that he had died, for that was clearly read across his face. There was nothing that came across the planet that could have possibly brought this overweight Saiya-jin back to life. In fact, Panboukin never even knew that resurrection was possible. Therefore, any other normal person would be just as confused as he was. What happened that allowed him to return in body, mind, and spirit? Would the same thing happen to the others?
He soon found out.
A small, agonized moan escaped from the female Saiya-jin's lips. Panboukin's shoulders fell in relief, but only the slightest imaginable. Like any other normal Saiya-jin, he wasn't about to let his true emotions show. Her body flinched, yet her eyes never fluttered. She rested in between the two other males, one's arm right across her chest and the other halfway underneath her. The men were face down while the front of her body was facing the sky.
Then, just as sudden as her movements of life, she rested. It was obvious she wasn't dead again; her chest was pumping up and down with exhaustion. Panboukin stepped around to his right to be above the young woman's head. He bent down and brought his arms underneath hers. He hauled her away from the limp bodies of the other two Saiya-jin. The only reply she made was another soft moan.
He pulled her up to the side of the elongated ditch so that her back would be resting against the dirt wall. He let go of her, knowing that she would be fine the way she was. Her armor had not been fixed along with the resurrection; the bottom left of it was dissolved from whatever it was that killed her. Or perhaps harshly weakened her during the fight. Her clothing was singed, and her hair was ruffled. It certainly must have been a tough battle for her.
The image of her sitting on the ground unconsciously made him look down at his own dented body. No parts were missing, nor have the others' bodies. His clothing was ripped, and his armor was damaged like his female companion. But the blood --the blood that should have been sprinkled about their bodies was nowhere to be found. Every one of the four Saiya-jin should have had an extensive amount of blood loss after their battle, but apparently even that was repaired. The bewilderment rose in the air although he was the only one alive, conscious, and moving.
She made a noise again, but this time it was a small murmur. Panboukin immediately took notice and sat on the undamaged ground right next to her. She cringed again, and her eyes blinked open. She stared at the landscape in front of her for a couple minutes, but did not allow Panboukin to know that she was awake during that time. Her eyes caught the dead bodies of the other two men; however, her blank expression never wavered. She sighed and turned her head slightly to her left.
Celipa was pleased to see that at least one of her comrades was alive along with her.
"I see that those assassins didn't do a good as job as they were meant to do," she said, unable to stand the silence any longer.
"Celipa, we did die. I thought you were much more intelligent then that."
She shook her head and laughed quietly under her breath. "Was that the best comeback you could come up with? I see death has changed you a bit." She ceased her talk for a short instant, before she tentatively continued on. "How did you enjoy your time in Hell?"
If Panboukin had thought that he could not have been more abashed than before, then he was stood corrected. "Hell? You actually had some time in the afterlife?"
She hastily made a reply. "Of course I did. Why? You haven't?" A negative response came from Panboukin. "Huh. I see. Pity; you missed out on all the fun."
There was a hint of sarcasm in her words. She didn't even seem disappointed that she left the afterlife. Of course, these two had been companions for a while, so he knew better than to question her about it. "Like I care much. What matters now is that I am alive and well again. Are those bastards still hanging around?"
"If they are," she growled menacingly, "then I would more than happy to give them a piece of my mind."
He agreed silently. However, there was more vengeance in her voice and worn on her face than he carried in his spirit. Celipa's dark pupils moved from Panboukin to both men to their right. Her hands balled into tight fists, one eye was scrunched and her mouth pulled into the deepest frown. A tinge of a crimson puddle started to seep through her white gloves before she released her hold. The center of her palm continued to bleed.
Panboukin glanced her way to check her response. When he caught her signs of hatred and anger, he planted a reassuring hand on her shoulder. In a syncopated motion, she swiveled her head to meet his eye. He did not notice the blood in her hands. "If we were revived, then why shouldn't Toma and Totepo come back to life? What makes us any more special than them?"
Celipa stood and gracefully wiped off some of the dirt that had attached to her. She glared at Panboukin and announced something that had not been the topic of the previous conversation, “We didn’t die in this position. That much I know.” After that she started down the only possible way to go if she was to follow the trail of the ditch.
Panboukin just watched her go without making a move to stop or follow her. There was a theory amongst the Saiya-jin men: females always have a ridiculous reason for almost everything they do. It was best not to ask any questions whatsoever.
You really shouldn't have done it.
It was the least I could do.
That was not smart.
How was it not smart? Aren't I doing them a favor?
No.
You are always so negative. Don't you see the good this will bring?
To whom? The universe or the devil?
Why are you on my back?
Because you could get into some serious trouble. You know that. Do you want to get sent to
Hell before--
I do not have to deal with this right now. But if you tell anybody...!
For your sake I won't. But if they get the same attitudes they had back when they were alive...
They won't. Trust me. I have this all figured out.
If you say so.
"Damn it!" Panboukin hissed through his teeth. "Why is it taking so long?!"
Totepo said nothing in response.
There were two events that both Saiya-jin were anticipating. There was still one Saiya-jin left to be resurrected, if he was to be resurrected at all. That man was Toma. His body was still in the crevice, where Celipa had walked down sometime ago. She had not yet returned. Both of the Saiya-jin were plenty worried, but neither of them bothered to let the other know.
Panboukin kept mumbling curses under his breath along with some gibberish that couldn't be made out. Keeping his reputation, Totepo remained silent, never uttering a word. Instead, he seemed a little calm for a situation like this; his face made little movements, and his body was almost perfectly still. If one were able to get into his emotions, however, they would see he was really in a worse state than Panboukin was at the moment.
"Is there one good reason why he shouldn't be alive right now?" Panboukin asked although he knew no one was going to answer verbally. He could care less if Totepo had actually heard what he was saying with intense thought. He wasn't going to answer either way.
Since there was a terrible lack of plant life on the planet, heavy winds rocked the planet harder than ever before. It was a true wasteland. It caused no bother to the Saiya-jin; they were facing the same way the wind was blowing. Still, whenever the sand hit it stung, even for one of these muscular aliens. It pierced the skin so much it bled. However, their deaths allowed the two Saiya-jin to withstand the pain easily.
Panboukin, losing a strand of patience every passing minute, stormed to the body of the sub-leader. He found it convenient to turn Toma facing up since Totepo had a bit of a hard time getting up once life returned to him. He looked down at the face of the most easy-going person besides himself known to the Saiya-jin race. The smirk was still there. Nothing had changed since the last time he checked. Or the time before that. It was obvious to him now that the sub-leader was the only one not to be revived.
"Come on Totepo, let's go," Panboukin called towards the tall Saiya-jin as he started down the direction Celipa had gone. "We had been wasting our time here. Let's catch up with Celipa. Maybe she's actually doing something worthwhile."
Totepo didn't argue. As Panboukin sped off towards Celipa's direction, Totepo strode towards Toma. He stood over his body and mumbled a small farewell to the Saiya-jin who had been the closest companion to Bardock than the others have been. Then he, too, walked off, leaving the body of Toma behind with the knowledge that he would most likely never be able to experience life ever again.