Time Warriors Chapter 9

"Leh...leh....go of me!"

Turning helplessly in Rabc's grip, Theo tried to stretch her neck to breathe. Her head was forced toward the sky at what seemed an impossible angle while long dark streaks lanced across her vision.

What is wrong ...? Why can't I get in?

Frantically, Theo groped deep inside herself for the wellspring of power. It was common to all beings, but only accessible to a certain few - those born with the ability to manipulate chi. For those of her kind, it was a place of calmness and clarity, a place where only truth ruled, where deception of any kind was impossible.

She tried to access the fount with her mind, but the barriers surrounding it were as smooth as glass. Her mental grip grew slack as she slipped around and down its sides, feeling as if she was careening out of control. Theo skidded away, defeated, unable to access the spring. It appeared fuzzy, almost blurred, and had a slight blue tinge – like ghee, Theo finally realized in alarm.

And it wouldn't open to her. At all.

Damn, Theo thought in consternation, recognizing the signs. I have to wait until the ghee gets out of my system ... and by that time I'll probably be dead ...

The dark streaks in front of her eyes were turning black and growing larger with each passing moment. She stopped struggling; her shoulders sagged and her feet stopped kicking to slowly swing with the rest of her body. She could not prevent the groping hands that fumbled their way across her upper torso, hands that pinched and tweaked and rubbed, hands that left sweaty, hot trails around and over her breasts. She could not stop them from violating her, pushing their way into her space and taking whatever pleasure they wanted from her.

But she could hate them. And she did, with a fullness and completeness that would cause most men to blanch in fear.

I will kill you for this, Cronch. Depend on it.

A tiny crack popped open in the blue sphere of her power source; a white trickle of energy ran out, so small that it normally would escape her notice. Now, however, Theo seized the wisp gratefully as she slid into shallow unconsciousness again, grasping it tightly, not letting go. She knew instinctively that when properly manipulated, this amount of energy was quite large enough to do exactly what she wanted.

The Cronch warrior stood in the compound with Theo dangling from one large arm. With a foul smirk, he brought her closer and started to bend her body backwards, feeling the contours of her breasts with his free hand, then dipping that hand lower, across her belly. Without warning, an enormous clout on the side of his head caused Rabc to cry out in pain and drop Theo, now totally limp, to the ground. He was thrown completely off balance as he lurched in the sand, tripping over his own booted feet.

"Explain what in the hell you were doing with that female, Rabc," a soft voice rumbled dangerously from the dark. "And you'd better hope that she's not dead."

Rabc was a larger than average-sized Cronch; a little over two meters tall, heavily muscled, bald except for a large red crest that split his head in two, wearing regulation light armor. Others of his kind usually left him alone, as he had a reputation for being surly and violent. Yet the threat embedded in the other Cronch's voice was enough for him to realize that he had pushed Sterbol, his superior, very close to his breaking point.

Rabc caught his balance and faced him, keeping his face carefully neutral. "I was making sure the female had no weapons, sir, " he replied stiffly. "We were surprised once or twice by several of these creatures that had crude pieces hidden on them."

Gray and black shadows moved over his supervisor's body, causing his hulking mass to look even larger and more threatening than it actually was. "You were with me when I brought the female back here – you know why she's here. What, exactly, did you think I was doing with her before I left the compound?" he asked, advancing on the hapless Rabc, menace and danger in his every line.

To his credit, Rabc stood his ground without flinching. "I—"

Sterbol stepped over Theo's prone form and brought his face centimeters away from Rabc's, the muscles in his forearms quivering with the effort he expended not to grab and crush his subordinate's skull. "So that there's no confusion," he said, silky intimidation threaded through every word, his canines gleaming in the waxing daylight, "the next time you touch anything I own will be the last time you touch anything at all. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir, I understand," Rabc muttered. The strain of standing anywhere near the large Cronch showed in the perspiration dripping down the side of Rabc's face.

"Fine. Then leave," Sterbol said, clearly enunciating each word. Rabc blinked, then turned and strode out of the corral, lengthening his stride until he was practically trotting.

Sterbol softly snorted. "It's people like you that give Cronch a bad name," he muttered, glaring after the mercenary's retreating back. He glanced down at the ground; Theo was lying at his feet, crumpled on her side in the sand. She was breathing, though – he poked her gently with his boot, and could see her sides slowly expand.

"Keep breathing, girl," he smirked, looking at her. "Your partner won't pay me if you're not alive ... so when she sees you, make sure you're breathing." With a contemptuous sneer, he turned and walked to the opposite end of the corral, roughly kicking some of the other captured unfortunates out of his way.

The spacer watched the entire incident, his gray eyes missing nothing, his mind turning over the implications of what he saw. He liked none of the conclusions he was drawing based on that single conversation.

He huddled in the sand until he was positive that both Cronch were out of earshot, and then silently darted over to the unconscious woman. A small black object dropped out of the man's sleeve and onto the ground behind him; he fumbled for it with his bound hands, finally palmed it and flicked a tiny switch on the device.

A razor thin red beam split the gloom, no more than three inches in length. The laser made short work of his bonds; immediately, he moved and cut Theo's ropes, freeing her hands for the first time in many hours. He pocketed the weapon, rolled her from her side to her back and started to chafe life into her cold hands and arms.

As he rubbed her wrists he cautiously examined the rest of her body – and stopped in shock when his gaze rested on her face. Theo's eyes were fully open and had rolled back into her head, exposing only the whites. Her lips were drawn back in a fierce snarl and strange sounds rumbled in her throat. Abruptly she pulled her hands out of his grip as her body started twitching, moving spastically on its own.

The man abruptly drew back and sat on his haunches, cautiously watching her, ready to leap away if she attacked. Theo's body stopped moving as suddenly as it had started. He heard her draw a deep, shaky breath, then watched her push herself up from the sand and sit up, her dark hair hanging down, the sides of her tunic swinging next to her body. She looked down and clutched the edges together with one hand, then raised her head and looked directly at him. Her eyes had rolled back to their normal position, but ... they weren't brown anymore. Now they were swirling with color – clear blue and green, shot through with streaks of orange.

They sat on the sand in the emerging daylight, staring at each other. Theo finally broke the silence.

"I’m getting out of here," she rasped flatly, her eyes flashing cobalt. "Right now."

"Are you all right?"

Theo stood up, rubbing her throat with one hand and grabbed the edges of her tunic with the other, staring with narrowed eyes at the figures of several Cronch in the distance. "Yes. I’m fine." Her head turned sharply around, her strange gaze leveled at him. "Why?"

Those eyes … piercing, he thought, looking back at her. Almost as if she can see what I’m thinking. What is she? "Because something's happened to your eyes," he said, straight to the point. "And you were really out of it over there. You were … shaking."

"Oh," she said, the challenge evaporating from her tone. "That." The hand that had been at her neck unconsciously moved to her cheek, her fingers touching the side of her eye. "I’m … fine," she responded warily, her voice still hoarse. "Are they different colors?"

He knew immediately what "they" were and nodded once, his gray hair becoming brighter with the dawn.

"Damn," she said softly as she furrowed her brow, thinking. "Did you set me free?"

He gave another laconic nod.

"How?" she asked, suspicious.

He stuck his hand in his side pocket and brought out the laser, keeping it on his open palm. Her eyes lit up as she recognized it and she grinned, nodding.

"Stupid things missed it, did they? Good – that’s just another thing that shows they don’t believe we will give them trouble." White teeth glinted in the early morning light as her tone turned vicious. "But we will."

Years of practice in strange situations on dozens of planets helped him mask his sudden alarm at the woman in front of him. She's not even the same person she was ten minutes ago, he thought, putting the laser back in his pocket. She's ... savage.

Theo stared at him, a small frown wrinkling the skin between her eyebrows. "What’s your name?" she asked, curious. When he remained silent, she scowled and said, "Oh, come on – you said my partner wanted to you find me, so I’m sure you know my name's Theo. So what’s yours?"

He looked at her a moment, as if measuring how much to tell her. In low, clipped tones, he replied, "Dron. My name's Dron,"

"All right ... Dron," Theo murmured, considering, tasting his name on her tongue. "That fits. Short and to the point ... just like you." She smiled at him coldly. "You weren't very nice to me when we first met, Dron. I didn't like what you said."

"Probably not," he agreed with a shrug. "But it was the truth."

"The truth is vastly overrated," she replied, contempt dripping from her voice. "Take my advice and use it as little as possible."

He stared at her a moment. Theo’s disheveled appearance was totally at odds with the confident, deadly air that surrounded her. "Then you must be following your own advice," Dron observed caustically, "because you're certainly not what you appear to be." His common sense despaired, clamoring couldn't you just give her the last word....?

Theo glared at the spacer for a long moment, the silence stretching thin. "Aren't you the clever one," she said with a scowl. "Maybe you'd prefer staying here to leaving...? After all, I'm not quite what you thought I was ..."

Dron's face was expressionless, but the muscles around his eyes shifted just enough to let Theo know she'd struck a nerve.

"No," he said, keeping his voice low, "I'm not going to be stuck here – but I don't see how we could overpower all the Cronch outside this corral, and that's what it would take. I counted twelve as that thing dragged me over here, and I'm sure there are at least as many on the other side. If that wasn't bad enough, the only weapon we have between us is this," and he patted the pocket where he kept his laser.

"Ah. Yes. Well," Theo murmured, nodding her head with a mysterious smirk, "that's not exactly true, either ..."

Diplomats, the wealthy and members of the government took complete advantage of the resources Port City 4 offered travelers, VIPs and the occasional visiting dignitaries. The apartments in the heart of the city were luxurious places designed to put even the most skeptical user at ease.

Every apartment used by the government was at least on the thirtieth floor of its building, had a large balcony and a magnificent view of the surrounding area. No expense was spared when furnishing those quarters, either; floors made of imported marble from Argus V, artwork collected from various parts of the galaxy, tapestries and damasks spun from the finest of gold and silver, intricate filigree work – every piece consciously chosen to enhance and strengthen the sense of beauty in each suite. The Argarians wanted their guests to feel calm, serene and secure in their apartments – especially secure.

Dawn slowly broke over the eastern section of the city. A direct view of the eastern horizon showed strange colors roiling there as sunlight was reflected and absorbed by the gaseous clouds covering the Alerian Sink. Looking from east to the west, the rising sun left its tracks on the desert, moved into the city and cast brilliant light on some of the more dramatic buildings in the capital. Some of those buildings appeared to be illuminated from within as the sunlight seeped into its pores and made its surface glisten and gleam; other sections looked dull and drab by comparison.

A small, oddly shaped speck appeared in the western skies of the city, weaving around various plazas as it following an irregular path. It seemed to be searching for something as it flew from building to building, dipping next to a structure only to glide away to the next one.

Acoustically, the city was a nightmare; sound bounced off smooth stone and glass like rubber racquetballs, careening out of control between the highrise buildings. The almost inaudible murmur of the few hovercars flying close to the ground was amplified by the distance it traveled. By the time the sound reached the government-issued apartments, it sounded like surf crashing on the beach; simply droning background noise that was always there, something residents needed to speak over when outside, but nothing out of the ordinary.

Had anyone been on their balconies, they would have been astonished to hear shrill, piercing sounds flying over the background hum as that speck drew closer to the larger apartments.

"…and don't think that I'm going to forget this, either, because I'm not! I don't know what you thought you were doing or why you were doing it, but you had no right to do that, do you hear me? no right at all! – and now you can't even find our condo, can you? Admit it – you're lost, aren't you?"

"Shut up, woman," Vejiita said without rancor, absently looking at the buildings around them. "You're repeating yourself."

"I knew it – you are lost!" Bulma said triumphantly, her arms tensing around his neck as he dipped close to yet another building. Vejiita cornered tightly and pulled out of a shallow dive toward a large balcony once he realized it wasn't the correct one. He shot off toward the next building, shifting Bulma in his arms slightly so that he supported most of her weight with his left arm.

They had been flying for what seemed like hours but had been only minutes, dipping and sliding around different buildings in the city. Normally Bulma loved to fly with her mate; she felt independent and free, unshackled from the ground as they hurtled through the air, his arms wrapped around her like a protective shield. This time, however, her anger at his inconsiderate behavior – yanking her away from her work before she was ready to go, of all things – ruined whatever pleasure she took from their flight.

"What is wrong with you? That's not our building," she yelled, taunting him. "Don't you remember? Ours is the big brown one!"

Damned arrogant Saiyan, what is wrong with you? she thought, still furious as he banked and turned again, now shifting her weight to his opposite arm. The combination of his quick turns, the strange air currents, her irritation at him and his moving her about sent Bulma's stomach into a spin, panicking her. "Watch what you're doing!" she shrieked in his ear, pulling herself even closer to his chest.

"You're choking me, woman!" he shouted, tugging his head back from her grip, annoyed. "How long have I been doing this? I'm not going to drop you!" Not that it hasn't occurred to me, he thought in grim amusement, looking at the squirming bundle with the fine blue hair in his arms. He had plucked her from the sidewalk in mid-sentence, his instinct tingling and telling him to get her back to the apartment immediately. Her mutinous, sapphire eyes glared up at him; she had no idea why he had swept her away, and he certainly wasn't going to tell her. He kept those feelings – in fact, most feelings – strictly to himself.

But her eyes … they were eyes that he had seen a thousand times, eyes that shone with happiness, or merriment, or the same exasperated expression she wore today …. Without warning, Vejiita felt part of himself softening toward her, remembering other times they had flown together and how much she had enjoyed it.

How long has it been since we've been alone? he wondered, his eyebrows drawn together in a frown. Blinking, he realized that they had spent precious little time together since they started the journey to Argus. Unexpectedly, he found that he wanted to spend time with her now.

She immediately sensed the change in him and grinned, her anger subsiding and her eyes sparkling with mischief as his customary scowl dropped into place. "You'd better not drop me – you'll never find our place if you do," she retorted with a smirk.

He grunted at her in response. How can she sense some things so quickly, and not others? he wondered, dividing his attention between looking at her, searching for their apartment, and trying to squelch more unfamiliar feelings that were threatening to overwhelm him.

"It's up there," she said, indicating a balcony on the large ocher building in front of them, leaning her head on his chest as she pointed with her right hand.

He flew up to the balcony, hovered over it as he twisted his body so that his legs were underneath him and landed on the marble floor, keeping Bulma in his arms.

"Put me down, Vejiita – I have to unlock the door," she said, kicking her legs slightly.

"You locked the door to the balcony?" he asked, incredulous.

Slipping out of his grasp to land lightly on the floor, she dipped her hand into her jacket pocket and looked at him with a perplexed frown. "Of course I locked the door – we have an awful lot of expensive equipment in here. Plus, I don't want anyone just walking off with our invention." She turned the key in the lock until she heard a sharp *click* and shoved the heavy sliding door to the left. "And you still had no right to take me away from that machinery until I was ready to go. Just because you thought it was time doesn't mean it was," she threw over her shoulder, marching into the apartment. Vejiita softly snorted and followed her from the balcony to the main room; he gave a cursory glance to each corner of the apartment, keeping Bulma in sight. He left the sliding door open, letting the cool outside air mingle with the heated apartment air.

Several small sofas were arranged in front of the large balcony picture window with unobtrusive wooden tables separating them. Bulma threw her keys down on one of the tables as she walked toward the kitchen, shrugged out of her jacket and threw it over the back of the closest sofa, then tossed her hair out of her face, her sleeveless tank billowing slightly.

She called, "I'm going to get some—"

"Bulma," Vejiita murmured, catching her bare arm and turning her around, sliding his free arm around her waist and drawing her close.

Surprise, amusement and desire shone in her eyes as she relaxed in his arms and said in an undertone, "Not here – Gokuu's following us, remember?"

He dipped his head in response and kissed her, keeping his arm around her waist, caressing her cheek with his left hand. As she responded to his touch, he moved his left hand from her cheek to the back of her head, threading his fingers through her fine, silky hair, pulling her closer.

"Vejiita," she muttered against his lips, pressing her body against his as her hands roamed across his shoulders to clasp behind his neck, "Gokuu … my father …"

Pulling his head away from hers, his smoldering dark eyes devoured her pale face. "Bakas," he replied hoarsely, then swept his right arm under her knees and whisked her feet off the floor, dipping his head to claim her lips again. She sighed and surrendered, arching her back and pulling his head toward her own, kissing him ardently.

They remained locked together in their embrace until a large crashing sound and the shaking floor abruptly brought them back to reality.

"Ohayo, Vejiita – ohayo, Bulma! Look – we were able to bring everything you wanted in one trip. Isn't that great?"

Vejiita raised his head to glower dangerously at Gokuu, ignoring Bulma's hissed pleas to put her down. The large, cheerful Saiyan was standing in the main room of the apartment with his hands on his hips, looking back at the balcony where his son and other friends were just landing, their arms loaded with mechanical equipment.

A door at the opposite end of the apartment flew open, revealing Dr. Briefs in a rumpled bathrobe, pushing his glasses on his face. "Bulma! Are you all right? What was that horrible sound?" He fumbled for his cigarettes in his robe pocket, pulled one out and lit it, his hands shaking as he guided the match toward the nub, giving furtive glances around the apartment.

Recognizing defeat, Vejiita gently put Bulma down, his scowl dark and threatening. She patted at her hair, pushing invisible strands back into place and pulled at her tank top, making herself presentable. She flashed a wicked grin at her mate as she went to her father, swaying her hips just enough to tease Vejiita as she walked away.

"Don't worry, Dad – that's just Gokuu and the others, bringing back some of that extra equipment we needed," she said, a soothing hand on his shoulder, pulling the spent match from his fingers.

"At this hour?" he asked, looking at her in bewilderment. "It's only just dawn!"

"Yes, well – you know how they are," she said, flicking the match into a nearby plant. "Once they get an idea in their heads, you can't hold them back. They just had to go collect all that equipment."

"That sounds more like you, daughter, than it does Gokuu," her father replied, moving his head to look at the equipment piled on the balcony. "Did you find all of it?"

"More or less," Bulma responded. She looked over at the weary warriors, raised her voice and said, "You'll have to move all of that to the lab, you know. You should probably do it now."

A chorus of groans was her only reply.

"Oh, come on, Bulma, we just got back," complained Kuririn. The Earthman was as filthy as Gokuu, covered head to toe in dirt and grime from the machinery. "We're tired – we want to wash up and then rest."

"Just move that stuff," she ordered imperiously, "and do it now. Get it off the balcony and into the lab before anyone else sees it. Then – I don't care – you can do whatever you want."

Kuririn closed his eyes – why won't she ever listen to me? he thought, dejected – then turned to his task, his shoulders drooping.

Gohan and Piccolo were behind him; once they heard Bulma's remarks, they looked at each other, shook their heads and bent to help him. Gohan, however, was chuckling to himself. He saw the entire exchange between Vejiita and his father, including Vejiita's reaction, and made a mental note to share that piece of information with Kuririn. He picked up an armload of machinery and followed his friend to the laboratory, grinning – the look on Vejiita's face had been priceless, even more so since the Saiyan prince hadn't realized anyone else had seen his expression.

That'll cheer Kuririn up, he thought, laughing to himself. I wish I'd had a camera.

Gokuu walked outside and scooped a huge armful of the time machine parts from the floor of the balcony. He turned and walked inside the suite, nearly running Vejiita over until he shifted his burden in his arms and saw the smaller Saiyan scowling in front of him.

"Sorry, Vejiita," he said cheerfully. "Didn't see you there."

Vejiita kept his arms at his sides, exerting a supreme effort of will not to smack Kakarotto's head through the wall of the building. Grinding his teeth, he walked out to the balcony and bent over to pick up the last fragments of the machinery, thinking that some activity would at least take his mind off of what he wanted to do but couldn't – when, all at once, he felt it. Vejiita snapped upright and his head turned toward the east, the muscles in his body tense, a predatory gleam in his black eyes. He stood as still as stone for several minutes, straining his senses, listening.

My instincts are never wrong.

The pulsing power was strong; not necessarily controlled, but strong.

And this time, it was centered – and it was close.

So close that he knew he could follow its traces to its source.

Where … ah, there .. there you are, he thought, grasping the rail of the balcony until his knuckles turned white, following the energy spoor with his mind. Now you're mine.

Without a word to anyone, the Saiyan prince leaped off the balcony and flew off into the dawn, the challenge of the hunt singing in his blood.

Piccolo watched him go, nodding his head. "I thought so," he murmured to himself. "We'll have to hurry."

Theo's head ached abominably. It was even worse than waking up with a mouthful of sand, if such a thing was possible. She faced Dron with an angry, arrogant smile, using a small trickle of power to project the confidence she didn't feel into his mind, hoping he would believe his manipulated feelings. An unreadable expression covered the fear and dread that crept into her bones.

Something had happened inside her. Something had scraped and skinned and twisted the inside of her mind, so much so that she lost control and half her disguise had vanished, disintegrated in the maelstrom of raging, uncontrollable wellspring power.

Her eyes had changed colors then, from brown to many-hued, and that was a bad sign. A very bad sign.

Something's wrong with my grifton, she thought numbly. It's … it's moving around. Trying to claw its way out of my brain.

Griftons were rare. They were small, parasitic creatures that fed on the psychic emissions of highly telepathic races such as the Guardians. The tiny symbiotes only lived in certain types of environments, and they were usually found on small, fallow, out-of-the-way worlds. Years ago, a small Guardian scouting expedition detected the creatures and discovered their remarkable powers purely by accident. One of their party became 'infected' with the parasite; once she 'recovered' and had been examined, it was obvious what the benefits were to hosting the tiny creatures. Attempts to cultivate them on Homeland were met with extraordinary success; a breeding program had been put in place and was nearing the end of its first cycle when Vejiita Ou blew both their griftons and their world out from under their feet.

I need to get out of here now, Theo thought, small fingers of panic settling in her gut as her eyes drifted across Dron's face and stared beyond the fence. If it moves again … there's no telling what will happen … and I'd be totally at the mercy of these beasts …

Gritting her teeth against the pain in her head, Theo motioned for Dron to follow her and silently walked toward the gate, taking the same path as Sterbol. Emerging daylight threw strange shadows across the desert; her bare feet padded in the sand, shuffling in the cool grains, making no sound. She stopped next to several dark mounds sprawled across her way, shaking her head. They were other captives, mostly females from the lower districts, who had been bound in the same manner as she had been. Theo motioned for Dron to cut them free – which he did, without comment – and then moved ahead. At last she reached a point where there were several medium sized rocks spread across the sand in a cluster, their ragged edges jutting toward the sky. They looked as thought they would provide adequate concealment for several people and were fairly close to the fence and the gate.

"I'm going to work here," Theo whispered quietly to the spacer as she slumped against one of the rocks, folding her legs underneath her, pressing the heels of her hands against her temples. "It's far enough away that they'll never know it's me, but close enough where I can see them." Oh Kami I promise I'll never touch that stuff again, just stop this from killing me, she moaned to herself.

"Work? What are you talking about?" he snapped back, his voice low and harsh as he bent closer to her ear. "How am I supposed to cover you? I can't reach anyone from here with this thing. This is just a pocket laser, not a laser cannon or a blaster. And what exactly are you doing?"

Theo took her hands away from her face, leaned forward on her knees and peered over the rocks, her fingers splayed against their rough surface. Her eyes shifted sideways to stare at him, then moved back to watch the Cronch standing beyond the fence.

"Listen. The only thing you have to do is to make sure that the rest of these people are set free," Theo murmured, gesturing vaguely at the different figures slumped in the sand. Her attention was focused on a knot of Cronch standing near the gate, stamping the ground impatiently like racehorses, their arms folded across their chests, bored expressions on their faces.

"What are you talking about?" Dron repeated, now irritable at Theo's obvious lack of comprehension. "How am I supposed to –"

"I'm a little busy right now," Theo said, interrupting him with a curt shake of her head. "Would you please shut up?"

"But what—"

Theo's hand was held in the air as a warning; she stared at the Cronch, her eyes changing color from cobalt to violet to dark green, her nostrils slightly flared. Dron fell silent and watched.

She was still staring at the Cronch, frowning. Suddenly her head tilted to the side and a large, nasty smile crept across her face.

"I'm in," she whispered. "Here we go …"