Chapter 8 Some Hope

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Chapter 8

Some Hope

    The swivelled up deep green and pale yellow forearm of the very old female Namek reached very slowly over towards a young, battered, and bruised Lauren. " . . . And . . . that is how your race became entangled with the monkey King's race . . . dear child . . . "
"So . . . so I am partly human . . . and partly . . . monkey?"
    "Partly human and partly Finikin King," Pain corrected. "Your planet obviously also has monkeys, though of far lesser strength and intelligence. There must be a reasonable explanation why we all differ, and yet some aliens from different galaxies or planets do look alike. Or in your case may look like the creatures from your own planet . . , I mean Earth, that is."
    "How do you know all of this . . , Have you been to those places?" Lauren asked Pain.
    Pain looked over to the old dying lady in the chair.
    "You could say that he has inter developed instincts that are derived from his great, great, great, grand father . . . my husband."
    "Y . . you are his great, great, great, grandmother?" Lauren's head moved from  looking at the young vibrant Pain, so full of vitality and youthful energy, over to the weakened old lady in her badly shriveled body. It was no doubt that she had to be the oldest living Namek alive.
    " . . . Tell me dear . . . what has happened to Flawadius . . . and your other friends."
    Lauren's head dropped, and as her eyes filled with tears . . . tears that fell and started forming small puddles at her tired, bruised feet . . . she groaned soflty. "They . . . they're all dead . . . sob', angnhn."
Pain gaze also drifted to stare at the floor, being saddened with his own memories of what had hit them.
    ". . . Come children. Tell me what had happened, for there may still be something that we can do." The old woman encouraged, as she sat in her beautiful pink gown.
    " . . . W-Well . . . after we had had to leave Goten . . ."

Months earlier . . .

    Sweat ran down the boy's face, down his neck and over his bare chest, only to mix with other sweat droplets before trickling even more speedily downwards.
    Bare back, Goten swung the heavy sledgehammer. So very many things were passing through his mind: His friends back on the ship, his family back home and the thought of them being worried, Gohan and his best friend Trunks . . . He could have really used young Trunk's company. He would be a good laugh, and would make fighting these bad guys more fun.
. . . Now, he was in a rocky quarry breaking some of the hardest rocks he'd ever met, and with a sledge hammer whose very heavy materials made them only too fit for the job.
    The surroundings, plagued with miserable, bare backed little aliens, whose muscles did buldge from the lifelong task.
How was he to save these people from their task masters, when even the other slaves' strength far exceeded his own.
   At best they could all work together to overthrow their adversaries.
    As the time for sleep arrived, young Goten followed the other slaves into the caverns underneath the ground, for to eat and sleep.
    "Why don't you fight . . ?" he asked the fellow in front of him.
    "Shhh!" Someone shushed him. "We do not talk those things out in the open.
    They went into a big dinning hall, where hundreds of the small folk poured in.
    "So . . . why don't you fight? I mean . . . "
    "Sheeee," Another fellow shushed him.
    After eating his green and brown pottage, amidst the guards watchful eyes, they again made there way into another room.
    There, was a huge waterfall that descended inside of the cavern, and under that waterfall were lots and lots of females, little children bathing, . . .  and then a huge creature came out of the water and slithered back in.
    No one was hurt, but everyone was a bit anxious.
    "That is why we do not fight." Someone replied. "For they have our women and children under constant watch. And besides the fact that we are stronger than you, . . . and yes it is obvious . . .,but we do not know anything about how to fight, and our task masters are in their own right, warriors.
    "We have contemplated what would work . . ."  A female voice spoke up.
    Goten turned to the elderly but very muscularly and fit alien who had just come up to him.
    " . . And that would be an attack from the outside, by outsiders who we do not know. Thus, they could not hold us nor our families responsible. That is when we will strike."
    " . . .And in all of these years no one has come and seen you plight? . . . nor attacked this rogue bunch?" Goten questioned with concern.
    ". . . Yes, they have, but they have either been too selfish to help, or, had been much too weak. Some have even tried to help, but . . ."
    "But . . ." Goten's heart almost burst at the thought of so much hopelessness, and that they would have suffered for so long. He really felt very terrible for the horrible plight of those surrounding him; for many families were there trapped, unable to see the light of freedom.
    " . . . Those that had tried to help us were caught . . ., as . . . you were also . . ."
    At those words Goten's thoughts drifted back to the time not so long ago on the dusty plains, when his heart had been beating soundly in his chest, like it were exploding drums inside of him. The heavy dust storm had shielded his vision of the moon, otherwise . . . he would have regretted having turned into something worse, much worse, than these his captors . . . and then every one there would have been in danger . . . plus, the awful thought of loosing his mind to a raging beast did not seem like fun.
    "Then . . . we wait . . ." Goten concluded, " . . . and in the meantime, I will train you how to fight."

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