The Great Escape
by L
"You're gonna get us in trouble, Trunks! What if your mom finds us in here?!" a tiny, frightened voice whispered in the dim light of the lab.
"She won't find us if you'll shut up! Now come on!" Two small figures snuck on tiptoe through the huge space, weaving back and forth around huge piles of spare parts and protruding wires as they slowly made their way towards the back of the room, searching for something.
"Can I ask a question?"
"Uh huh, just keep quiet."
"Why didn't we turn the lights on? Everything's creepy in here . . ."
"You little baby!" The older boy stopped and turned, his face half-shadowed by a large, partially disemboweled robot, and threw a chubby-cheeked scowl at his companion. "You wanna go back, huh, mister training pants?"
Goten turned a dusky shade of red in the gloom and angrily balled his little fists, shouting, "I don't--"
"Shhh!!"
"I don't wear those, Trunks! I don't, I don't, I don't!" the boy whispered hoarsely, almost on the verge of tears. But he wouldn't cry. He wouldn't cry in front of Trunks. Goten pushed past his friend, a savage pout darkening his normally bright face. "Let's just find it, okay?" his voice quavered.
"Okay." Baby, the little boy teased, grinning widely as he walked behind his friend. He's just a little baby a-scared of the dark. The shadows of the robotics laborotory grew deeper as they moved farther and farther from the wide sliver of light from the doorway--the only source of light in the entire room. "Where would Mama keep that thing in all this junk?" he wondered aloud.
"Prob'ly in a safe place. You know where she coulda hid it?" Goten answered in a gruff little voice as he lifted a machine a few inches off the floor. Seeing there was no secret trapdoor under it, he scowled disappointedly and slowly set the heavy equipment down.
"Nuh-uh." Trunks peered around a blackened pile of circuit boards and spied a small desk in the corner of the lab. The boy smiled greedily, his blue eyes shining in the near-darkness. "But I think I have a good idea . . ."
"Pattern recognition confirmed. Stay where you are, Goten and Trunks." A spotlight beamed their shadows on the wall as both boys jumped in fright and clung to each other, not daring to turn around.
"I told you, I told you we'd get caught!!" Goten shrieked, scared out of his wits. "Now we won't get our wishes! I told--" Trunks clapped a hand over his friend's babbling mouth before any more incriminating words could pour out of it.
"Shut up, shut up! We play dumb, okay?! We got lost, okay?!" He whispered frantically into the boy's ear. He felt like he was going to throw up any second, and by the looks of it, so was Goten.
"Turn around, children. No sudden moves," the artificial voice ordered. They slowly complied, trembling from head to toe with fear. "This is a restricted area. You know you are not to be in this room without adult supervision," the voice droned.
("Can you see what it is?" Goten whispered, his voice still shaky.)
("It's a robot, dummy. Can't you hear that stupid voice? Mama prob'ly built another one to keep us outta her hair." He peered into the spotlight, trying to make out a shape, but it was no use--he was blinded by the glare.)
". . . For this infraction, you shall be confined to your room for three hours, during which time you shall not be allowed access to television, video games, or the computer. If the noise level in said room rises above ninety decibels, an hour will be added to your sentence. For every recurrence, an additional hour will be exacted. Is that clear, children?"
"Huh?" Just what I was thinkin', Goten. . . . He hadn't understood half the words the stupid rustbucket had said, but he knew they were both in big trouble.
"The time for games is over. You are being punished. Behave, and perhaps I will be lenient." With that, the overhead lights snapped on and the robot's spotlight winked out. Before the two's eyes had adjusted to the light, it had taken both of them by the arm and was leading them bodily out of the lab and up to Trunks' room.
"Hey, leggo, you stupid robot!" Trunks tried to wriggle from the automaton's viselike grip, but this one was stronger than the others his mother had made. "Stupid upgrades . . ." he growled as he kicked the robot's side panel. The white painted surface didn't even dent.
"Your struggling is futile. If you continue to resist, I will begin to administer corrective shocks."
"WHAT?! Did you hear that, Trunks! It's gonna shock us if we don't--stop it! Stop it, Trunks!!" Goten's eyes widened in horror as his friend started pulling on the robot's arm, bracing his legs against its side in an effort to get away. "I don't wanna get shocked, Trunks! Stop it!!"
"You wimp!" he grunted, still tugging with all his might. Half a minute and three electric jolts later, Trunks noticed it wasn't working.
They were almost to his room!
A cool, calculating glare that seemed almost too old for his childish features appeared on his face as he decided to give it one last shot. One big shot, Trunks smirked as he powered up and fired a ki blast point-blank into the robot's midsection.
That did it--within seconds both he and Goten were free, the robot a pile of half-melted wire and twisted, blackened metal beneath them. "You coulda blew us up with that, Trunks!" the younger boy gasped as they both floated in the hallway, too dumbstruck to move.
"But I didn't." Regaining his composure, Trunks started down the hall. Goten was still staring at the wreck, and the older boy rolled his eyes in disgust. "Hey, Goten! You coming or what?"
"Y-yeah," he murmured, then flew to catch up with his friend, all the time looking back as if to make sure the thing was dead.
Once the boys were gone, a small voice piped up from the wreckage. "Assessing damage."
"Internal batteries and core memory are completely intact. Forty percent of original power reserves are remaining. Fifty-seven percent of internal circuitry has been compromised. Seeking outside power source in order to effect repairs." A small wire probed out of one of the hulk's pincerlike hands. Within a minute, it had found what it was looking for and plugged itself into the wall socket a few meters away.
"Repairs commencing. Approximate time remaining until fully operational: fourteen minutes, fifty-seven seconds."
"All I wanted was a big ol' mountain of ice cream, that's all! Just a mountain of ice cream, an' this is what happens!" Goten whined as they walked towards the kitchen.
"Be quiet, okay?" He looked around the corner, peering into the kitchen and dining room, then signaled an 'all clear'. A second later, Goten trotted into the room.
"You sure nobody heard it?"
"Must not have," Trunks sighed in relief. "I haven't seen Mama since this morning, anyway, and Papa's prob'ly training someplace."
"That's good."
"No duh." He opened the refrigerator, and both boys' stomachs began to growl noisily at the sight of the fully-stocked shelves and bins before them. Trunks turned to Goten and with a roguish grin, asked, "Think this'll be enough?"
"For starters," Goten replied, an answering grin on his own rounded face.
The two young boys sat cross-legged in front of the open door of the refrigerator, empty plastic containers and assorted wrappers and fruit peels scattered around them. Breaking the silence, Goten burped and sighed happily.
"That was good." The little one moved his coal-black eyes around the room, looking for something else to fill the bottomless pit of his stomach. "You think your mom'd mind if we opened up some food capsules from the pantry?"
Trunks leaned against the fridge door and looked up at the ceiling in thought. "Mmm . . . I don' think she'd mind too much. Whatcha want outta there, anyway?"
"Cookies." As soon as Goten had spoken that word, Trunks' face lit up and he hurried to his feet.
"Okay! Let's go!" The purple-haired boy rose into the air, avoiding the mess on the floor, and turned eagerly towards the pantry door on the far side of the large kitchen. Goten followed suit, floating and grinning widely as he pictured himself surrounded by huge crates full of chocolate chip cookies stacked up to the sky.
"Halt, children! You are not allowed to be in the possession of any sweets until you have eaten dinner!" The two spun around, eyes wide and jaws slack. That voice. . . .
"AAAAHHHH!!! It's alive!!!" they both shouted as they hastily backed up against the cold kitchen counter and stared disbelievingly at the newly-repaired robot before them.
"Correct. I am fully functional, you impudent boys. You shall be severely punished for attempting to escape your previous sentence."
("What?" Goten whispered.)
("It said we're gonna get it good," Trunks answered, his sweet face drawing into a scowl as he turned back to the machine.)
"You two shall not escape me this time." The robot drew closer, extending its arms towards the pair as they crouched into their respective fighting stances.
"Wanna bet?" Goten grinned as he prepared to strike, pulling his cupped palms to his hip. "Haaaa-meeee-"
"Goten, not in the house!! Not here!! Mama'll kill us!!!" Trunks yelled, panicking and waving his arms as his friend continued to chant, but it was too late.
"HAAAA!!!" The bright blue ball streaked towards its target, hit the robot squarely in the chest, and blew it backwards, utterly destroying the wall behind it. A fine screen of plaster dust immediately blanketed the hole and hid the mangled machine from view.
"Yeah!! I got him! Didjya see, Trunks? Didjya see?!" Goten hopped about in midair with a huge grin on his face, then slowed as he turned to look at his friend. " . . .Trunks?" he questioned, still grinning at his beet-red companion.
"You jerk!! You--you big fat stupid jerk!! Trunks lunged at Goten, took him by the shoulders and shook him fiercely. "Mama's gonna kill us!! When she sees that hole in the wall, we're gonna be toast, you hear me!! We're dead, Goten! Dead!"
"Incorrect, children. You will not die, but for the destruction of private property, you will be grounded for two weeks and banned from seeing each other during that time, in addition to your previous sentence," an artificial voice rang out. The two turned towards the broken wall, eyes wide with fear.
"AAAAHHHH!!! It's still alive!!!" Goten and Trunks streaked out the kitchen door and into the open air before they even saw the robot emerge from the settling dust.
Within seconds it sped through the open door and flew after the boys.
"It's gonna get us, it's gonna get us, it's gonna get us!!" Goten cried nervously as the wind streaked past his wet, contorted face. "It's gonna put us in th' dungeon an' throw away the key!"
Both boys' nerves were almost shot. They had been flying for an hour now in an attempt to escape Bulma's robot, but the two had been unable to shake it. It was never far behind, and even when they went Super Saiyajin, they couldn't outfly it.
"Shut up, Goten!" Trunks was just as rattled at the robot's persistence as his friend, but he wouldn't let it show. He had his pride, after all.
"I mean it just keeps coming and coming and coming. . . ."
"I said shu--what?" Trunks turned to his friend, a look of disbelief on his face. "What did you say?"
"It keeps coming and coming . . ." And going and going and going. . . . The stupid slogan echoed in Trunks' mind. His azure eyes grew wide as the pieces of a crazy idea snapped into place.
"That's it!!" he cried, hope transforming his every feature as they flew. "The batteries! We've gotta take out its batteries! Goten, you're a genius!!"
"I am?" the little boy sniffled, surprised at the compliment. "Gee. . . ."
"Come on! We're gonna get that stupid thing once an' for all!" The boys turned around and started to backtrack their flightpath when they saw a small white pinprick swiftly closing in on their position.
"I-it's almost here," Goten stammered, unsure of his friend's plan. "What do we do?"
"You keep it busy, and I'll sneak up on it an' try to pull its battery out." Trunks narrowed his eyes and stared at his friend. "Okay?"
"Um, okay," he answered, glad he didn't have to get close to that mechanical monster. "But how are you gonna know where. . ."
"You just fight the thing, okay?! I'll worry about that!" Goten glanced uneasily at his friend, then squinted at the growing dot in the distance. He remembered what had happened in the kitchen, and decided to go Super Saiyajin.
"Hey, watch it with the fire, Goten!" Trunks complained as he floated away from the smaller boy's golden aura. "Good idea. If the thing can take a Kamehameha now, who knows if anything else normal'll work?"
"Just be ready to do your stuff once the robot's down, okay?"
"Gotcha." He turned back to the incoming machine, which slowed and met them in midair.
"Good. You two have come to your senses. Follow me and return home to begin your punishment or I will be forced to take drastic measures."
"Huh. You're all talk, you stupid robot." Goten glared at the white hulk before him, his golden eyebrows furrowed over dazzling green eyes. "I'm not going back." He entered a fighting stance. "And I'd like to see you try an' make me."
"As you wish." The robot crouched in midair as if to attack, and Trunks floated away from the impending fight, as if he didn't want to get involved. "A wise choice, Trunks. Remain where you are, and you shall not be punished for Goten's impudence."
"Hey!" the little one called. "You ready, you bucket of bolts?"
"Affirmative. I will not relent until you are unconscious."
"Or in pieces!" The boy rushed the mechanical creature, pounding it mercilessly with both fists--that is, until the robot began to fight back. Even against a Super Saiyajin, it was holding its ground, dodging and dealing out blows with relative ease.
"Can I ask"--Goten punched the robot in the chest and it retaliated with a swift kick to the head, which he ducked--"a question?"
"Certainly." Goten increased the speed of his attacks, and his opponent matched him. Okay, so maybe it's not all talk. . . .
"How'd you make it? I should've fried you back in the kitchen." They each dodged a few more hammering blows before the robot answered.
"I simply raised my shields. I was unprepared for Trunks' attack, but not for yours." So that's why this stupid thing's been fightin' so good, Goten realized. It wasn't even usin' its powers when Trunks hit it!
"You got 'em raised now?" They disengaged for a moment, and Goten scrutinized the robot's features. Not a scratch could be seen on its perfect white surface.
"Yes." The little boy almost groaned aloud when his fears were confirmed. Shoot! With 'em up, Trunks won't be able to get to the batteries! He took a quick glance at his friend. The boy was watching the fight intently, waiting for an opening. Trunks scowled and nodded slightly at him. He knows. He knows I've gotta get th' robot to drop those shields. Goten returned his attention to the fight.
It was waiting for him to make the next move.
Goten made it--he powered down. "I--I don' wanna fight anymore. I can't beat you with your stupid shields up." He gave the robot his best pout and managed to squeeze out a few tears, hoping to lull the machine into a false sense of security.
"Affirmative. My shields will compensate for any attacks weaker than the Super Saiyajin 2 power level." Satisfied with Goten's acquiescence, it turned and started to fly in the direction of Capsule Corporation. "I am pleased with this turn of events, children, and if you behave I shall not incapacitate you. Follow me."
"Yes, mister robot." Trunks joined Goten and the two flew meekly behind the metallic monster as it led the way home.
As soon as they were sure the robot was convinced of their obedience, they exchanged narrow-eyed glances and stared at its back. Trunks then pointed to a small hatch near the bottom of the robot's cylindrical torso--an access panel!
The younger one shot him a questioning look, and the purple-haired boy nodded. That was probably where the batteries and main circuit boards were located, and they had to find a way to open it and destroy what was inside before the thing caught on. . . . Goten winked and pantomimed his plan, and Trunks winked back, smiling. Ol' Number 12. Good idea, buddy!
Goten held up the fingers of one hand, silently counting down. The robot ahead of them took no notice.
When he reached zero, the little boy suddenly groaned, rolled his eyes up into his head, and plummetted towards the ground. "Goten!" Trunks shouted, diving after his friend. The robot swooped and followed, easily catching the falling boy in its arms.
"Goten," the robot droned, trying to address the still form it was cradling. "Goten. Are you in need of medical assistance?" Its shields were down--this was their chance!
"No, but you will be! HAAA!!" Trunks drove his flaming fist into the robot's lower back, punching easily through the small, undefended hatch, and began ripping out components as fast as he could. Sparking wires and black computer chips flew everywhere as the automaton tried to raise its protective barrier and failed.
"Trunks! For this you shall receive corporal punishment! I have been authorized by your mother to--" The robot's voice suddenly cut out as the little boy at its back ripped out its vocal circuits.
"Authorize this, you piece of scrap!" Goten dropped out of the machine's embrace and punched through its front panel, forming a fireball as he drove his fist amongst its innards and fusing the surrounding circuits into a useless mass of metal and plastic.
The mute robot flailed wildly in midair, trying to bat the boys away from its critical circuitry before it was too late, but to no avail. A few seconds later, Trunks ripped the power supply from its carcass and the lifeless metal creature fell to the ground, defeated.
The pieces of the robot which weren't melted beyond recognition were strewn far and wide across the countryside, and Trunks and Goten smiled at each other and dusted their hands in satisfaction as they turned to go home.
"I can't believe it fell for the oldest trick in the book!" Goten shook his head in amazement as they soared through the skies. "Man, that robot sure was stupid!"
Trunks grinned at his friend, elated at their success, but suddenly frowned as a disturbing thought crossed his mind. "Yeah," he muttered, "but just wait 'til Mama makes another one. . . ."
End
Obligatory disclaimer: All Dragonball/Z characters and situations belong to their respective owners (such as Akira Toriyama, Bird Studio, Jump Comics, and others) and are being used without their permission. No profit is being made from this fanfiction, and I'm not rich enough to sue, so please don't bother. This story is meant strictly for enjoyment purposes only. Have a nice day. :-)