Ein Teil von jener Kraft.
Mar. 3rd, 2007 03:49 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
keire_keOh, Shakespeare, what an annoying old bugger thou art.
Sanzo didn’t even bother ordering a meeting. Anyone interested could find their way to the dining area alright. Except Goku, who was cuffed to a permanent fixture in the infirmary, for everyone’s peace of mind. Everyone’s except, well, anyone who knew anything about getting out of bounds. Which included pretty much the whole crew, except possibly Yaone. Sanzo wasn’t too sure about Hakkai, but since Hakkai seemed to know a lot about Goku, he was immediately excluded from the “peace of mind” club.
“What the fuck just happened here?” Sanzo asked once the seven of them found a seat at or around the table. He glared at Hakkai fiercely, daring him to make a wrong move. The doctor stared right back, uncaring.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” he said, folding his hands on the table. His posture radiated calm disinterest.
“Oh, you slept through the massacre?”
“I thought that part was fairly obvious.”
“Do not play games with me. You brought him here in a fucking crate, and don’t give me shit about hiding. A haircut and contact lenses could do the job. You hover around him all the time, like a fucking grandmother, and you’re not sure what I mean?” The doctor didn’t flinch from Sanzo’s furious gaze. “Let me tell you something. I was top of my class at the academy and after that. I can kick most of the SOs into next week, with some luck. Two against one, I have maybe sixty percent chance of coming out on top. Three, I managed once. One of them had cramps, so she wasn’t feeling well, and I was black, blue and requiring medical attention by the time the session ended. Goku took out ten. Ten fucking SOs, without breaking a sweat. He wasn’t even breathing fast, for fuck’s sake. I will ask again, what the fuck was that about?”
Hakkai took his glasses off, calm as if they were discussing the lack of weather in space. “I’m not sure what do you expect me to say. I knew he was conditioned for combat, yes. I knew his results were referred to as ‘spectacular’. I also knew a subliminal triggering procedure is required for him to act on it, so I decided there was no point in mentioning it.”
“A sub-trig what?”
“Means he has no choice in the matter. He switches into killer-monkey mode when someone tells him to,” Gojyo told Jien. He was staring at Hakkai intently, but the doctor was avoiding his gaze.
“No point in mentioning it?” Sanzo said, forcing the words out through clenched teeth. Something was hammering at his skull, in a manner most difficult to ignore. “You knew he could go off at any fucking time, you knew there was something that could set him off, and there was no point in mentioning it?” Sanzo’s eyes narrowed. “I warned you, Hakkai. Loud and clear. Fuck with me and I will fuck you over right back.”
“I know what the trigger is,” Hakkai replied coolly. “It’s an intricate pattern of sounds and visuals. It is also fairly extensive. There was no chance whatsoever of the whole procedure being administered on a regular transport ship.”
“And yet he went off, on a killing spree. Care to explain that?”
“I’m afraid I can’t.”
“Then what use is your doctoring at all, if you can’t keep him sane!”
“Sanzo. I am a surgeon, not a psychiatrist. His medical file is over a gigabyte of text and another ten of CAT scans, tomograms, EEGs, MGIs, just about every method science has at its disposal to look into someone’s head without breaking it apart. And photos of the few that require trepanation.” As Hakkai spoke, Sanzo could almost feel his eyes glaze over. He was a soldier, as much as he protested. Wounds and pain, he was familiar with. It was impossible not to acquire a long mental list of how can a body can be cut, torn, smashed, or all-around broken, being an SOs. Some of the items on the list he got to experience first hand. He’d never had to consider injury from a scientific perspective. His overall knowledge of medicine came down to CPR and first aid.
But then Hakkai wasn’t finished yet. “Most of the medication and procedures administered were experimental, and I mean that in a lab-rat kind of experimental. Plus, it’s not my speciality, so I need to cross-reference almost everything I read. That will take time.”
“Found anything interesting yet?” Sanzo asked eventually, sitting down. Hakkai looked down and sighed.
“Like I said, he was conditioned for combat, presumably combat in situations of extreme duress. He is therefore as fit a human being can ever hope to be. Any physical examination you could imagine, he would pass with flying colours.”
“He doesn’t move like a human,” Jien snapped. “Nothing that moves like that could be human.”
“Jien, shut the fuck up,” Sanzo said tiredly.
“What, you wanna tell me that was normal? I saw what he did. That was no fucking coincidence, the way he fought. He went through them like it was a dance routine! A fucking dance routine! And the SOs were randomly just standing there, no fucking pattern to their attacks, and he still went from one to the other like he knew damn well where they’re gonna be and where he’s gotta be to get the perfect fucking hit in. It’d take a computer to figure that out.”
“Which is precisely what I mean by combat conditioning,” Hakkai interjected smoothly. “Some physical enhancements were involved, yes, but physical ability was tested and proven reasonably effective ad infinitum by the army. I have trouble comprehending the concept, I must say, but I get the impression that his mind was– Well, I hate to put it like this, but programmed is the best word I can think of.”
“He must’ve been on some drugs, he’s insanely strong.” Kougaji said, thinking back to the fight in the hold. “Physically, I mean. To throw a grown man like that. I would have trouble, with full cooperation from the victim.”
“But he’s so scrawny,” Gojyo said incredulously. “Sure, he’s no twig, but he still looks like you could break him by accident.”
“I assure you, you couldn’t.” Hakkai’s calm words were greeted by a long pause.
“I’m not liking how certain you sound there,” Gojyo said finally.
“I am a surgeon, Gojyo. I have treated him a number of times. And, well. He was in a governmental medical facility, documentation was a must. So trust me when I say that I sincerely doubt you could come up with a potentially lethal scenario that he hadn’t yet faced.”
“You’ve treated him,” Sanzo said slowly.
Hakkai hesitated. “I was in charge of monitoring his physical health.”
“How long?”
There was another pause. Then, “Five years,” the doctor said. There was silence again.
“It took you a while to get him out then.” Sanzo’s tone betrayed no emotion. Hakkai looked up at him briefly, but didn’t reply. Sanzo felt his fists clench when he looked at the completely passive and uninterested expression on the doctor’s face. He really shouldn’t be surprised. He had suspected it, from the moment he saw Goku and Hakkai interact.
Whatever prompted the doctor to do what he did, it wasn’t about Goku. None of it was about Goku. Not the murders, not the care, not the running from the law.
He had no idea why the notion infuriated him so much. He shouldn’t care, hell, he should be throwing the kid overboard now, considering the picture he was getting from Hakkai’s carefully selected words.
A weapon. Not a soldier. Not a spy. Not an assassin. Not a person.
Unbidden, his mind supplied the image of the boy. A young man who smiled, who played, who was awed by cats and slept curled in a foetal position, almost, but not quite, sucking his thumb. Sanzo felt his teeth grit. He didn’t even notice walking up to Hakkai. It was only when he was standing over the doctor and the overturned chair that he realised he’d lost control and finally punched the man.
In the face, by the way his knuckles stung.
“I imagine I deserved that,” Hakkai said calmly, once he collected himself from the floor. He took a minute to probe at his jaw before he sat back in his chair.
“You sick son of a bitch, why?” Sanzo asked.
“My reasons are none of your concern. I got him out. And I’m telling you now, the feds will not get him back.” There was steel in his voice, the like of which drives people to genocide, with an expression to match. Sanzo was growing to hate that expression.
Jien stared at the ceiling. “Fucking hell,” he said. His voice was coming out slowly, as if he had to navigate an unfamiliar language through an unfamiliar subject. “Can you imagine a squad of these things? They’d be unstoppable!”
“He ain’t a thing,” Sanzo said very slowly. “Fuck, Jien. Goku is not a thing. He’s a goddamned person.”
“His brain is scrambled. He’s not a human, I don’t care what the doc says. We should just toss him overboard and be done with it. They sent ten fucking SOs after him. Ten! I haven’t heard of there being more than three SOs in one place before. The feds are not letting it go. We’re out of our fucking league here.”
“Be my guest then. Go wake him up, look him in the eye, and tell him we’re going to hand him over to the lab that scrambled his brain,” Sanzo said.
Jien glared at him. “Well, maybe I will!” he said defiantly, but, although his voice did not falter, the fire was gone. He growled at nothing in particular and stalked off.
“That was rather evil, Sanzo,” Hakkai said quietly, watching the exchange.
“Ch’. I’m still the fucking captain here. The kid stays on board, until I toss him out.”
“I appreciate that. However, that’s not what I meant.” Sanzo’s gaze swivelled to him. “I meant your reference to Goku’s eyes. His gaze does seem to possess a certain irresistible quality to it, doesn’t it?” His tone turned a little wistful.
Sanzo gritted his teeth. No way in hell he would admit to agreeing with the doctor. “The hell I care.”
“Sanzo, are you insane? You really mean to keep him here?” Kougaji stood up and stared.
“We ain’t got no fucking choice.”
“Like hell we don’t. The kid ain’t your responsibility.”
“Oh? So suppose we do turn him over now and collect out reward. What do you think happens next? Because the way I figure, the story the surviving SOs will give them will be that Goku acted up to protect us.” Sanzo’s hand slammed down onto the table. “This fucking ship. What do you suppose they do with that knowledge? We have a doctor onboard, one who knows what makes him tick. And we ran, we ditched the bodies and ran. What do you think that tells them? For all they know, the doc might have arranged the whole thing to meet with us. Do you think that if we hand him over now they’ll chalk up the killing to a freak accident? Or would they hand Goku a gun, flash him a fruity bar commercial and tell him to do us all in?” Kougaji faltered and closed his eyes. “What the fuck do you think will they do?” Sanzo said forcefully, leaning forward.
“They’ll hand him a gun,” Kougaji conceded tonelessly, “And line us against the wall.”
“Took you fucking long to figure that out. We’re screwed even if we leave him somewhere. I’m willing to bet they didn’t stop at teaching him how to pack a punch. Or did you forget the academy? First thing they show you, how to trace a ship based on its figures and serial numbers. He’s had enough time to memorize West’s figures and serial number backwards like a fucking singsong. Think they won’t ask?” His only answer was silence. But Sanzo wasn’t quite finished yet.
“The only way to keep us safe is a bullet. And I’d like to see you put a gun to his head and end him now.”
“You can’t!” Lirin shot up and stared at Sanzo, obviously horrified. “He’s- That would be murder!”
“Why would they even do that?” Yaone asked after a short period of complete silence. Her fingers tightened on a glass. She was shivering. “If we handed him over? They would have no reason to kill us.”
Kougaji turned his head away from his wife’s insistent gaze. “We’ve seen him. We could recognise him. Given what his purpose might be, it’d be a liability, to have anyone know his face,” he said. Yaone shivered.
“But, why would we? Why would they think we would mess up with his-” her voice broke at the word “missions”. Sanzo couldn’t blame her, when the same images whirled through his head. Yaone must’ve learnt about the less glamorous side of the lives of Special Operatives, if only because Kougaji had the occasional nightmare, and they were actually people. More or less. Goku though… Sanzo didn’t want to imagine what things he could potentially be made to do.
Nothing Yaone’s sensibilities and morality could stomach, he was sure.
“Oh yes, surely, they will have moral qualms,” he said instead. Kougaji could make with the comforting later. His responsibility was to hit people with the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the cold, hard truth. “I mean, they’re only the people who took a child and proceeded to fuck with his brain ‘til he’s little more than a glorified shotgun. Besides, maybe you were too busy screwing Kou to notice, but we ain’t exactly on the moral high-ground here. For all the feds know, we might be selling the kid to the highest bidder.”
“Imagine the advertising that would take,” Gojyo interjected. He was grinning outwardly, despite the situation’s seriousness, but Sanzo was vaguely grateful for that. At least someone else didn’t seem to care that they would all get blown to pieces. Bonus points for it being Gojyo, he was paid to put people in a good mood. “Killer monkey! Dazzle him and he’ll hand you your intestines on a stick!”
The annoying little something stopped hammering on Sanzo’s skull and let itself in. “Fuck.” He sat down heavily. The breathless quality of his voice turned all heads.
“Sanzo?”
“Hakkai. You will go and wake Goku up now. I don’t care how. I want him in the cargo hold inside of ten minutes, awake and coherent.”
Kougaji started and stared at Sanzo. Cargo hold, implication was vaguely clear, but it didn’t quite compute. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Other than the usual, I mean.”
Hakkai stared at the captain, his brows furrowed. “Captain, I’m not sure what you’re trying to accomplish here.”
“Ten minutes.”
“The dose he got was massive, captain, even for him.”
“Even for him?”
A tiniest smirk graced Hakkai’s mouth. “I think we’ve already established how special Goku is.”
Sanzo’s eyes narrowed. “Half an hour will be enough?”
“I can’t promise he will have woken naturally.”
“I don’t care.” He did. But prioritising was important at the moment, and as much as he wanted- wished for certain things, his ship’s – and crew’s – safety had to come first. “Awake and coherent.” He stood up and left the dining area.
He hoped the annoying voice in his head would finally shut up.
Sanzo didn’t even bother ordering a meeting. Anyone interested could find their way to the dining area alright. Except Goku, who was cuffed to a permanent fixture in the infirmary, for everyone’s peace of mind. Everyone’s except, well, anyone who knew anything about getting out of bounds. Which included pretty much the whole crew, except possibly Yaone. Sanzo wasn’t too sure about Hakkai, but since Hakkai seemed to know a lot about Goku, he was immediately excluded from the “peace of mind” club.
“What the fuck just happened here?” Sanzo asked once the seven of them found a seat at or around the table. He glared at Hakkai fiercely, daring him to make a wrong move. The doctor stared right back, uncaring.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” he said, folding his hands on the table. His posture radiated calm disinterest.
“Oh, you slept through the massacre?”
“I thought that part was fairly obvious.”
“Do not play games with me. You brought him here in a fucking crate, and don’t give me shit about hiding. A haircut and contact lenses could do the job. You hover around him all the time, like a fucking grandmother, and you’re not sure what I mean?” The doctor didn’t flinch from Sanzo’s furious gaze. “Let me tell you something. I was top of my class at the academy and after that. I can kick most of the SOs into next week, with some luck. Two against one, I have maybe sixty percent chance of coming out on top. Three, I managed once. One of them had cramps, so she wasn’t feeling well, and I was black, blue and requiring medical attention by the time the session ended. Goku took out ten. Ten fucking SOs, without breaking a sweat. He wasn’t even breathing fast, for fuck’s sake. I will ask again, what the fuck was that about?”
Hakkai took his glasses off, calm as if they were discussing the lack of weather in space. “I’m not sure what do you expect me to say. I knew he was conditioned for combat, yes. I knew his results were referred to as ‘spectacular’. I also knew a subliminal triggering procedure is required for him to act on it, so I decided there was no point in mentioning it.”
“A sub-trig what?”
“Means he has no choice in the matter. He switches into killer-monkey mode when someone tells him to,” Gojyo told Jien. He was staring at Hakkai intently, but the doctor was avoiding his gaze.
“No point in mentioning it?” Sanzo said, forcing the words out through clenched teeth. Something was hammering at his skull, in a manner most difficult to ignore. “You knew he could go off at any fucking time, you knew there was something that could set him off, and there was no point in mentioning it?” Sanzo’s eyes narrowed. “I warned you, Hakkai. Loud and clear. Fuck with me and I will fuck you over right back.”
“I know what the trigger is,” Hakkai replied coolly. “It’s an intricate pattern of sounds and visuals. It is also fairly extensive. There was no chance whatsoever of the whole procedure being administered on a regular transport ship.”
“And yet he went off, on a killing spree. Care to explain that?”
“I’m afraid I can’t.”
“Then what use is your doctoring at all, if you can’t keep him sane!”
“Sanzo. I am a surgeon, not a psychiatrist. His medical file is over a gigabyte of text and another ten of CAT scans, tomograms, EEGs, MGIs, just about every method science has at its disposal to look into someone’s head without breaking it apart. And photos of the few that require trepanation.” As Hakkai spoke, Sanzo could almost feel his eyes glaze over. He was a soldier, as much as he protested. Wounds and pain, he was familiar with. It was impossible not to acquire a long mental list of how can a body can be cut, torn, smashed, or all-around broken, being an SOs. Some of the items on the list he got to experience first hand. He’d never had to consider injury from a scientific perspective. His overall knowledge of medicine came down to CPR and first aid.
But then Hakkai wasn’t finished yet. “Most of the medication and procedures administered were experimental, and I mean that in a lab-rat kind of experimental. Plus, it’s not my speciality, so I need to cross-reference almost everything I read. That will take time.”
“Found anything interesting yet?” Sanzo asked eventually, sitting down. Hakkai looked down and sighed.
“Like I said, he was conditioned for combat, presumably combat in situations of extreme duress. He is therefore as fit a human being can ever hope to be. Any physical examination you could imagine, he would pass with flying colours.”
“He doesn’t move like a human,” Jien snapped. “Nothing that moves like that could be human.”
“Jien, shut the fuck up,” Sanzo said tiredly.
“What, you wanna tell me that was normal? I saw what he did. That was no fucking coincidence, the way he fought. He went through them like it was a dance routine! A fucking dance routine! And the SOs were randomly just standing there, no fucking pattern to their attacks, and he still went from one to the other like he knew damn well where they’re gonna be and where he’s gotta be to get the perfect fucking hit in. It’d take a computer to figure that out.”
“Which is precisely what I mean by combat conditioning,” Hakkai interjected smoothly. “Some physical enhancements were involved, yes, but physical ability was tested and proven reasonably effective ad infinitum by the army. I have trouble comprehending the concept, I must say, but I get the impression that his mind was– Well, I hate to put it like this, but programmed is the best word I can think of.”
“He must’ve been on some drugs, he’s insanely strong.” Kougaji said, thinking back to the fight in the hold. “Physically, I mean. To throw a grown man like that. I would have trouble, with full cooperation from the victim.”
“But he’s so scrawny,” Gojyo said incredulously. “Sure, he’s no twig, but he still looks like you could break him by accident.”
“I assure you, you couldn’t.” Hakkai’s calm words were greeted by a long pause.
“I’m not liking how certain you sound there,” Gojyo said finally.
“I am a surgeon, Gojyo. I have treated him a number of times. And, well. He was in a governmental medical facility, documentation was a must. So trust me when I say that I sincerely doubt you could come up with a potentially lethal scenario that he hadn’t yet faced.”
“You’ve treated him,” Sanzo said slowly.
Hakkai hesitated. “I was in charge of monitoring his physical health.”
“How long?”
There was another pause. Then, “Five years,” the doctor said. There was silence again.
“It took you a while to get him out then.” Sanzo’s tone betrayed no emotion. Hakkai looked up at him briefly, but didn’t reply. Sanzo felt his fists clench when he looked at the completely passive and uninterested expression on the doctor’s face. He really shouldn’t be surprised. He had suspected it, from the moment he saw Goku and Hakkai interact.
Whatever prompted the doctor to do what he did, it wasn’t about Goku. None of it was about Goku. Not the murders, not the care, not the running from the law.
He had no idea why the notion infuriated him so much. He shouldn’t care, hell, he should be throwing the kid overboard now, considering the picture he was getting from Hakkai’s carefully selected words.
A weapon. Not a soldier. Not a spy. Not an assassin. Not a person.
Unbidden, his mind supplied the image of the boy. A young man who smiled, who played, who was awed by cats and slept curled in a foetal position, almost, but not quite, sucking his thumb. Sanzo felt his teeth grit. He didn’t even notice walking up to Hakkai. It was only when he was standing over the doctor and the overturned chair that he realised he’d lost control and finally punched the man.
In the face, by the way his knuckles stung.
“I imagine I deserved that,” Hakkai said calmly, once he collected himself from the floor. He took a minute to probe at his jaw before he sat back in his chair.
“You sick son of a bitch, why?” Sanzo asked.
“My reasons are none of your concern. I got him out. And I’m telling you now, the feds will not get him back.” There was steel in his voice, the like of which drives people to genocide, with an expression to match. Sanzo was growing to hate that expression.
Jien stared at the ceiling. “Fucking hell,” he said. His voice was coming out slowly, as if he had to navigate an unfamiliar language through an unfamiliar subject. “Can you imagine a squad of these things? They’d be unstoppable!”
“He ain’t a thing,” Sanzo said very slowly. “Fuck, Jien. Goku is not a thing. He’s a goddamned person.”
“His brain is scrambled. He’s not a human, I don’t care what the doc says. We should just toss him overboard and be done with it. They sent ten fucking SOs after him. Ten! I haven’t heard of there being more than three SOs in one place before. The feds are not letting it go. We’re out of our fucking league here.”
“Be my guest then. Go wake him up, look him in the eye, and tell him we’re going to hand him over to the lab that scrambled his brain,” Sanzo said.
Jien glared at him. “Well, maybe I will!” he said defiantly, but, although his voice did not falter, the fire was gone. He growled at nothing in particular and stalked off.
“That was rather evil, Sanzo,” Hakkai said quietly, watching the exchange.
“Ch’. I’m still the fucking captain here. The kid stays on board, until I toss him out.”
“I appreciate that. However, that’s not what I meant.” Sanzo’s gaze swivelled to him. “I meant your reference to Goku’s eyes. His gaze does seem to possess a certain irresistible quality to it, doesn’t it?” His tone turned a little wistful.
Sanzo gritted his teeth. No way in hell he would admit to agreeing with the doctor. “The hell I care.”
“Sanzo, are you insane? You really mean to keep him here?” Kougaji stood up and stared.
“We ain’t got no fucking choice.”
“Like hell we don’t. The kid ain’t your responsibility.”
“Oh? So suppose we do turn him over now and collect out reward. What do you think happens next? Because the way I figure, the story the surviving SOs will give them will be that Goku acted up to protect us.” Sanzo’s hand slammed down onto the table. “This fucking ship. What do you suppose they do with that knowledge? We have a doctor onboard, one who knows what makes him tick. And we ran, we ditched the bodies and ran. What do you think that tells them? For all they know, the doc might have arranged the whole thing to meet with us. Do you think that if we hand him over now they’ll chalk up the killing to a freak accident? Or would they hand Goku a gun, flash him a fruity bar commercial and tell him to do us all in?” Kougaji faltered and closed his eyes. “What the fuck do you think will they do?” Sanzo said forcefully, leaning forward.
“They’ll hand him a gun,” Kougaji conceded tonelessly, “And line us against the wall.”
“Took you fucking long to figure that out. We’re screwed even if we leave him somewhere. I’m willing to bet they didn’t stop at teaching him how to pack a punch. Or did you forget the academy? First thing they show you, how to trace a ship based on its figures and serial numbers. He’s had enough time to memorize West’s figures and serial number backwards like a fucking singsong. Think they won’t ask?” His only answer was silence. But Sanzo wasn’t quite finished yet.
“The only way to keep us safe is a bullet. And I’d like to see you put a gun to his head and end him now.”
“You can’t!” Lirin shot up and stared at Sanzo, obviously horrified. “He’s- That would be murder!”
“Why would they even do that?” Yaone asked after a short period of complete silence. Her fingers tightened on a glass. She was shivering. “If we handed him over? They would have no reason to kill us.”
Kougaji turned his head away from his wife’s insistent gaze. “We’ve seen him. We could recognise him. Given what his purpose might be, it’d be a liability, to have anyone know his face,” he said. Yaone shivered.
“But, why would we? Why would they think we would mess up with his-” her voice broke at the word “missions”. Sanzo couldn’t blame her, when the same images whirled through his head. Yaone must’ve learnt about the less glamorous side of the lives of Special Operatives, if only because Kougaji had the occasional nightmare, and they were actually people. More or less. Goku though… Sanzo didn’t want to imagine what things he could potentially be made to do.
Nothing Yaone’s sensibilities and morality could stomach, he was sure.
“Oh yes, surely, they will have moral qualms,” he said instead. Kougaji could make with the comforting later. His responsibility was to hit people with the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the cold, hard truth. “I mean, they’re only the people who took a child and proceeded to fuck with his brain ‘til he’s little more than a glorified shotgun. Besides, maybe you were too busy screwing Kou to notice, but we ain’t exactly on the moral high-ground here. For all the feds know, we might be selling the kid to the highest bidder.”
“Imagine the advertising that would take,” Gojyo interjected. He was grinning outwardly, despite the situation’s seriousness, but Sanzo was vaguely grateful for that. At least someone else didn’t seem to care that they would all get blown to pieces. Bonus points for it being Gojyo, he was paid to put people in a good mood. “Killer monkey! Dazzle him and he’ll hand you your intestines on a stick!”
The annoying little something stopped hammering on Sanzo’s skull and let itself in. “Fuck.” He sat down heavily. The breathless quality of his voice turned all heads.
“Sanzo?”
“Hakkai. You will go and wake Goku up now. I don’t care how. I want him in the cargo hold inside of ten minutes, awake and coherent.”
Kougaji started and stared at Sanzo. Cargo hold, implication was vaguely clear, but it didn’t quite compute. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Other than the usual, I mean.”
Hakkai stared at the captain, his brows furrowed. “Captain, I’m not sure what you’re trying to accomplish here.”
“Ten minutes.”
“The dose he got was massive, captain, even for him.”
“Even for him?”
A tiniest smirk graced Hakkai’s mouth. “I think we’ve already established how special Goku is.”
Sanzo’s eyes narrowed. “Half an hour will be enough?”
“I can’t promise he will have woken naturally.”
“I don’t care.” He did. But prioritising was important at the moment, and as much as he wanted- wished for certain things, his ship’s – and crew’s – safety had to come first. “Awake and coherent.” He stood up and left the dining area.
He hoped the annoying voice in his head would finally shut up.
