Interlude - The Saints Are Coming
‘The Saints Are Coming’
AN: Okay, the 1st act was about bridging the gap between Part 4 and Glory. Stuff had to be worked out and things had to be set up. Because of that it was kinda slow on the action and heavy on the talking. And drinking. Let’s hope I can kick things into a higher gear with this act.
I originally wrote the first part of this interlude as the prologue to Mayor and the Saiyan, part 2A, when Buffy was still sulking in Los Angeles. But then I realized that it might be best if it were used as a prologue for this part instead. After all, with Mayan coming back and all. Yeah, sometimes I do plan things that far ahead. The other part…. well, I’m sure you’ll eventually recognize the crossover. ;)
Location, what used to be the Merathri homeworld, time, sometime in the past
An orgy of violence had descended upon the planet of the Merathri, a spacefaring civilization who were in competition for a neighboring star system with the Ovomi.
The Ovomi had a small interstellar empire consisting of a dozen worlds, which they considered as the Ovomi’s burden to bring civilization to the universe. The planets they had subjugated on the other hand thought differently. The Merathri couldn’t care less about creating an empire. But they did care about having an aggressive neighbor so they decided to contest the Ovomi’s expansion. And unfortunately for the Ovomi the Merathri while not very numerous in space did have an above average share of Big Fucking Guns.
Which led to the current situation where the Saiyan 7th Royal Household regiment, on the request of the Ovomi empire found themselves on the Merathri homeworld, doing a very good impression of Hulk Smash on the Merathri.
So far so good.
Unless you were a Merathri of course.
Shit began to hit the fan when the Ovomi fleet suddenly broke orbit without warning, leaving the Saiyan strike force with nothing but the space pods they had landed with. And as their allied fleet withdrew, so did most of their long range communication. This left the Saiyan commander with no choice but to order his command staff to use the equipment in their pods and break radio silence.
Cause the only thing more dangerous about being stranded in the middle of nowhere was not knowing you were being stranded in the middle of nowhere.
While the Saiyans tended to get rid of their weaker offspring through a ‘send them away and either die or survive’ program it didn’t weed out all of the weakest. Like with any program it was only as good as the weakest chain in the link and like any chain it had plenty of weak links.
While in theory every Saiyan family had to subject its new born offspring to the Royal Assessors, not everybody did. Not even Saiyans were immune to things like love and the bond between a child and its parents. Some hid their weak children, others bribed the Royal Assessors. It happened. The system wasn’t foolproof.
And of course some families had too much power and influence to let their offspring be subjected to what they considered as something that was only for lowly commoners. While to have a weak child was not considered a shame for the regular folk, in certain families it was the greatest social disgrace imaginable.
So the rich and powerful knew their way around the system and pretended that their weak children were in fact Saiyan Elites. No costs were spared to train these weak noble brats into something that was considered socially acceptable. And if that weren’t possible, well, even a society so martially obsessed as Saiyan society needed some of its members to fill positions that were less martially glamorous but still needed to be done for the greater good.
Technicians that actually knew what the technicians from their subjugated races were up to, specialists who knew what the specialists from their subjugated races were doing. While less glamorous then being a full blown warrior, there was still a need for it and in a way even some of the most martially obsessed Saiyan warrior valued those Saiyans who showed the drive and motivation to excel at those other necessary skills.
So it came as no surprise that the 7th Saiyan regiment, Royal Household, had a team of specialists attached that no Saiyan commander would ever throw into battle, not unless everyone else in the regiment had died first, but whom he still needed to keep the regiment functional. After all, it was all fine and dandy to have millions of the subjugated races working on planet Vegeta to keep the planet going, no Saiyan commander was entrusting his lives and those under his command to a slave. Only a Saiyan would do.
It was good honest work, you earned a share of the spoils and you could be part of the glory. It was as good as it could get for a Saiyan who sucked at fighting.
As the commander of the 7th ordered him to break radio silence, the comms specialist activated his space pod's own unique long range communications array and dialed in the specified frequencies, just as he was trained to do so in case of such an emergency. What he got however didn't bode well.
“...range! This is the automated emergency response beacon to all units. Case Orange, I repeat, case Orange! This is the....”
“Are you getting anything,” the commander's voice came over the comms specialist scouter.
“Nothing but some automated beacon sending out a general broadcast, commander,” the comms specialist replied confused, “I didn't even know we had one.”
“What does it say?” the commander asked. He suddenly sounded terribly worried , more then he should and that started to worry the comms specialist as well. When your friends got worried, you could ignore that as meaningless jitters. But if the higher ups got worried…..
“Something about a case Orange, commander,” he replied
“Shit! Bastard,” the commander cursed and immediately changed to a general channel, “everybody listen up! This is your commander! I hereby order everybody to prepare for immediate extraction. This is an omega one order! Make for your pods! ASAP!”
Immediately the lines became active with chatter. In the immediate aftermath of battle discipline had a bad habit of becoming lax. So it wasn't surprising that the troops started babbling in confusion. Some even demanded an explanation.
“Is he crazy,” one said, “we haven't even begun to properly loot yet!”
Others couldn't believe what they had heard.
“Did he just give an omega one order?”
The comms specialist fell in that category. An omega one order was rarely if ever issued. What the hell was going on?
“Move it, man,” somebody said and knocked him on his shoulder. It was a girl. The specialist now recognized her, she was the commander's adjutant, barely of fighting age herself, and of his house. She was kicking and screaming the rest of the staff into action.
“Leave it,” she yelled at another comms specialist manning the scanning array, “we must go!”
“Yeah, but....” the other comms specialist protested and pointed to his array.
“My brother just issued a fucking omega one order,” she yelled impatiently, “if he says we must go, we will, even if I have to drag all of you into space myself.”
The first comms specialist had no doubts that she would. She was quite the firecracker. So he wasted no time in prepping his pod.
“But look,” the other comms specialist said and pointed to his array, “something is coming.”
“Our glorious allies?” the girl snorted in disgust at their betrayal.
“No,” the specialist said as he shook his head, “It’s a single ship, it came i….. what the….. I think it just launched five inbound space pods.”
“Inbound to where and when?” the commander's voice asked worried on the command staff only channel.
“Northern continent, 700 measures east of us. They'll make planet fall in less then two minutes.”
“That would put them right on top of the 3rd phalanx,” the intelligence officer said.
“Makes sense,” the girl said, “it's our biggest force concentration. Are you getting this information, brother?”
The commander didn't answer her and contacted the 3rd phalanx commander himself. Normally it would have gone on a private channel but this time it went on the open channel.
“Gurkha, this is Movekk, what is your status?”
“Movekk, you dog,” came Durkha's agitated voice, “What in the name of the seven hells is going on? Half my men are in disarray, the other half is still looting. What is this omega one nonsense?”
There was a slight delay before Movekk, commander of the 7th regiment, Royal Household, replied.
“Durkha, and everybody else, listen up,” commander Movekk said gravely, “we are under attack. Case Orange has been declared, which means that Freeza has moved against our homeworld. In fact he may have already destroyed it. An unknown ship just launched five space pods that will land on the position of the 3rd phalanx in a minute. Only the Ginyu Force travels in five. We stand no chance against the Ginyu force. Durkha, If I'm to save anything of the 7th I need you and your men to buy us time. With your lives. Do you understand?”
For a condemned man Durkha of house Noonien sounded remarkably cool. Maybe cool wasn't the right word.
“We'll buy you the time you need, Movekk,” Durkha said calmly, “We will close the door for you and the 7th! The fighting bastards!”
“The fighting bastards,” commander Movekk replied, his voice sounding somewhat choked. Then they cut off the channel.
“What the hell is going on?” one of the command staff yelled, “How can this be?”
“You heard my brother,“ adjutant Mayan replied and pointed to five fiery trails in the sky streaking towards Durkha's 3rd phalanx, “and there comes your answer. If you wish to live, move, if not, get out of my fucking way!”
It took them less then a minute to lift off and move into the upper atmosphere. As she did Mayan checked every data stream coming into her space pod and noticed that Durkha's last stand managed to buy enough time so that at least 65% of the 7th had now taking off. Unfortunately, Freeza's destroyer, which was now in orbit and in a position to intercept a further third of all escaping space pods. That left only 41% of the regiment as the remaining pods moved into space.
A meager 41% of the regiment!
And according to her brother they had been very, very lucky.
“Attention, all members of the 7th,” came her brothers voice on a tightbeam ship to ship transmission, “Freeza has now declared war on the Saiyan race and it would seem he is out to destroy us all. Judging from the auto beacon it is clear that Freeza has destroyed planet Vegeta. Freeza's destroyer will undoubtedly give chase to us as soon as it retrieves the Ginyu Force finishing off the last of the 3rd phalanx. It will be faster then our pods. We cannot outrun it. The only logical course of action is to split up. If we split up they can't catch us all. I am programming in a series of rendezvous point where each phalanx and each group will regroup.”
“Now not all is lost. Our king expected Freeza to make a move against our race at some point. He prepared an refuge, a secret redoubt where we could flee to. It is guarded by an phalanx of infiltrators. It's location is top secret, known only unto the highest and most trustworthy. I'm transmitting its coordinates to every phalanx commander. Upon regrouping every phalanx is to set course there. In case your phalanx commander gets killed I will set a second general rendezvous point and will come for you there.”
On Mayan's pod screen two sets of coordinates appeared, then to her surprise a third came up. Mayan selected a private channel and spoke.
“What is this, brother,” she said fiercely, “is this what I think it is?”
“Not now, Mayan,” came Movekk's exasperated voice, “this is no time to throw a tantrum. I promised our father to keep you safe and by the Gods I will. You are going to the refuge and that is final.”
“You can't do this! I'm...”
“There will be no argument, young lady,” Movekk said, “I'm speaking not only as your commander, or your brother, but also as head of your house. With planet Vegeta gone our father is obviously also gone. That makes me head of our house.”
“But what if they capture me?” Mayan countered, “They could get the location of the refuge from me. Would you gamble the future of our race on that?”
There wasn't an immediate reply. And when he spoke he sounded choked, ask if fighting back his emotions.
“Young lady,” Movekk said, “for you I would risk the future of the universe itself!”
These Coca Cola vending machines sure were a pain in the ass, Buffy thought as she tried to uncork her bottle of Coke. Somewhere on this thing was an opener. Something that would allow her to gain access to the black syrupy nectar inside. Stupid cola machines selling bottles! Why couldn’t they sell cans instead?
She was standing outside what to all appearances looked like a 50’s style gas station.
She had no idea how she got there.
But since she was there anyway and was thirsty…..
Suddenly someone came up running to her.
It was Belmo.
Only at the same time it wasn’t Belmo because not only was he wearing totally different clothes, covering up his hideously tattooed arms, his hair was also shorter. And clean shaven! And yet he also looked kinda disheveled. Like he had gotten out of bed, put on some clothes, skipped grooming and came straight here.
“Marty!” Belmovekk yelled, “Marty! Marty!”
For a moment Buffy looked around to see if there was somebody else. Then she realized he meant her.
“Who? Me?” she said surprised.
“Marty? I’m sorry, I over slept,” Belmovekk said as he came to a stop and started panting, “Look I need your help. I have to ask Loraine out but I don't know how to do it. I have to ask Lorraine out but I don't know how to do it.”
Lorraine? Who the fuck is Lorraine, Buffy thought.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Buffy said, then she looked at the Coke bottle in her hands, “God, how do you do this?”
Belmovekk reached out, grabbed the Coke bottle, put the tip into a small slot on the machine, then a flip of the wrist and the cap came off.
“Here,” Belmo said as he handed the bottle back to Buffy, “We have to get to the café. I saw her there.”
“Okay, I’ll buy,” Buffy said as she followed Belmo and took a small sip. Damn, it wasn’t diet.
“Last night, Darth Vader came down from planet Vulcan,” Belmo said as they walked to the café, “and he told me that if I didn't take Lorraine, that he'd melt my brain.”
“Yeah, well uh, lets keep this brain melting stuff to ourselves, okay?” Buffy said as she patted Belmo on his nervous shoulders.
“Oh, yeah, yeah,” Belmo stammered.
As they walked Buffy eyed Belmo nervously. His tall muscular frame was totally gone and replaced by 100% gawkish beanpole. And why did he call her Marty? Who was Lorraine? Darth Vader? Planet Vulcan? Brain melting? And why did this sound so damn familiar to her?
As they entered town square Buffy thought that Sunnydale had surely changed a lot over night. Gotten a 50’s makeover.
And then she saw the café. In glorious 50’s pale blue pastel colors.
In the café she saw her mother sitting.
“Mom?” Buffy said speechless.
Her mother also looked younger.
“Isn’t she gorgeous?” Belmo said with a dreamy smile on her face.
“What, you mean….?” Buffy said and pointed to her mother, “her?”
“Yes,” Belmo smiled, “Lorraine.”
“Okay,” Buffy said as she turned around. “I’m officially wigged out. This cannot get any weirder even if the tap-dance men of the Apocalypse were to come in here tap dancing to the tune of Back to the Fu…….”
Buffy stopped in mid sentence. Then she looked around and took notice of every building around the square.
Hill Valley Courthouse. With a large clock in its Roman style edifice
A Sherwin-Williams paint store.
A bar called Gaynor’s Hideaway.
The Essex Theater, Cattle Queen of Montana currently showing.
The Lawrence Building.
Hal’s Bike Shop, selling Schwinn bicycles. Whatever they were.
Roy’s Record Store.
Back to the café. Lou’s Café.
With her mother in it wearing 50’s clothes. Sitting next to Android #18 as they laughed and giggled like teenagers.
“I get it now,” Buffy said, as it dawned upon her. It was another dream. A weird one, because it wasn’t often that she was lucid in her dreams. Well, in that case why not have some fun as well?
She then faced Belmo, went to stand behind him and put her hands on his shoulders.
“Alright, okay. Alright, there she is, Belmo. Just go in there and invite her.”
“But…., but I don't know what to say,” Belmo protested.
Oh God, Buffy thought, he’s worse then Sam now.
“Just say anything, Belmo,” she said as she squeezed his shoulders, hoping it would encourage him, “say what ever's natural, the first thing that comes to your mind. But just so you know don’t ever
mention something called Warhammer.”
Belmo looked at her over his shoulder forlorn.
“Nothing's coming to my mind,” he said pitiable.
“Jesus, Belmo,” Buffy said as she shook her head, “it's a wonder my sisters were ever born.”
“What, what?” Belmo said baffled.
“Nothing, nothing,” Buffy said as she gave him one more encouraging pat on the back, “look, tell her destiny has brought you together, …tell her that she's the most beautiful you have ever seen. Girls like hearing that stuff. I like hearing that stuff. What, what are you doing, Belmo?”
To her amazement Buffy pulled out a notepad and had started to take notes.
“I'm writing this down,” the teenage Saiyan said writing, “this is good stuff.”
“Yeah okay.” Buffy said as she patted him one more time, “Let's go.“
“Oh,” Belmo said as she gently but firmly lead him inside.
“You are a rock. You are a cliff upon which emotions have no hold. You weather the storm of her emotions. Like a tree you will bend in the wind but you will not break. Fear is the mindkiller. And remember the first rule of Slaying. Do not die!” she whispered into Belmo’s ear, no easy feat with her short stature and lack of high heels, “So, are you ready? Will you take care of that?”
“Right!” Belmo said as he felt himself pumped up and ready to take on the world, then he looked to the owner of the bar, who happened to be Giles, “Lou, gimme a milk, chocolate.”
Yup, Buffy thought as she chuckled mentally, chocolate milk. The
drink when you were in dire need of some liquid courage. Taking hold of a bar chair Buffy sat down by the counter and looked around. To see who else was there.
At a table by the window there was Spike, in a 50’s leather jacket and sporting a greased quaff. And he was feeding a spoonful of ice cream from an ice cream sundae to….., a version of herself? God! Again? There she was, in bobby socks, looking up at Spike with absolute adulation at Spike as she took the spoonful of ice cream in her mouth with a big smile.
At a different table was Xander.
To her surprise Xander looked completely out of character and place. Sitting reclined in a chair in a black pinstriped suit, staring with weary eyes at a mountain of white powder and plastic bags with more white powder. Next to him was a M-16 machine gun with grenade launcher. Opposite him sat Angela, her usual bored look as she used a nail file to do her nails. Then, as Buffy looked at her, Angela looked up briefly, winked, then she went back to doing her nails.
Walking past her was Anya, Xander’s house keeper, dressed as a waitress and actually working as a waitress carrying a tray with drinks. She passed three small brown hairy creatures, long heads ending in short elephantlike trunks. Wings adorned their backs and one of them was carrying a carrier bag. In file the three walked out of the café.
Meanwhile Belmo had received his glass of chocolate milk and took a big swig. Then he went over to Mom’s table. As he went over there Joyce and #18 took notice.
“Lorraine, my density has popped me to you,” Belmo said mucking up his delivery and causing Buffy to facepalm herself.
“What?” Joyce said surprised.
“Oh,” Belmo said as he realized his mistake, some cool already starting to leave him, “what I meant to day was…”
“Hey,” Joyce said as she eyed Belmo, “don't I know you from somewhere?”
“Yes, yes, I'm George,” Belmo said regaining some hope, “George McFly, and you're my density. I mean, I'm your destiny.”
“Oh,” Joyce said amused. Good, Buffy thought, that means there’s hope.
Then a voice spoke up.
“Hey, McFly, I thought I told you never to come in here!”
Buffy looked at the newcomer. Correction. Newcomers.
She had seen the movies and knew that this was the point where Biff Tannen and his obnoxious friends made an entrée. But instead of Biff Tannen and his friends there stood a blonde woman. Tall, statuesque. In a red dress with a bitching pair of sky scraper heels. And with her was a group of what Buffy could only describe as the unholy offspring between Hobbits and other Hobbits. If you define other Hobbits as in their direct next of kin. And then breeded on and on until you got something so sickly and scabby looking not even the term Appalachian or Ozark hillbilly covered the term anymore. They were also dressed in robes like they were monks or something.
“Well,” the blonde woman said bitchy, “it's gonna cost you. How much money you got on you?”
Belmo’s cool had completely left him and turned him into a gooey puddle of no longer a man.
“Well, how much you want, Biff….,” he stammered weakly.
“I wa….,” blond mystery woman said as she walked towards Belmo. As she did she walked past Buffy and Buffy stuck out her foot, causing blond mystery woman to fall down.
“Whoa,” everybody in the café said with baited breath.
Mystery blonde woman got up, turned to Buffy and towered over her as she stared at Buffy, glaring angrily.
“Alright, punk,” mystery blonde woman said angry, “now what….”
“Whoa, whoa, Biff,” Buffy said and pointed behind mystery blonde woman, “what's that?”
As she turned around Buffy hit her with everything she’s got.
Which wasn’t so much as she was used too, so apparently in this dream she no longer had super strength. But it was enough to send the woman crashing on top of the table behind her. Taking advantage of the situation Buffy ran away through the door, knocking over the sickly looking Hobbits on her way out.
“That's Calvin Klein,” Joyce sighed dreamily behind Belmo, “oh my god, he's a dream!”
Outside Buffy ran onto the street and saw two kids playing with soapbox carts, rolling past her.
“Whoa, whoa, kid, kid, stop, stop, stop, stop,” Buffy said as she lifted one of the kids off his cart and set him down next to her.
“Hey,” the kid protested at her rough treatment.
Buffy ripped off the top crate, leaving only a small platform with wheels, she then gave the crate to the kid.
“I'll get it back to you, alright?” she said as she handed him the crate.
Behind her, out of the café spilled mystery blonde woman with her coterie of Hobbits. Seeing them Buffy hopped on the wooden platform with one foot, pushed off with her other foot and then she was off.
First time ever on a skateboard, Buffy thought exited, this isn’t so bad. At least I still got my reflexes.
“You broke it,” the kid called after him, then his anger turned to amazement, “Wow, look at him go.”
“Let's get him,” mystery blonde woman yelled and lead her hobbits across the park that was at the center of the square.
Pushing herself on Buffy managed to stay ahead for a while of mystery blonde woman (how could she run so fast in those heels?). Then, just as the high heeled Olympic runner had almost caught up with her she tipped her cart, pushing the front in the air and using the back to brake and reduce speed. When she had slowed down just enough she turned around, grabbed the back of a passing pickup truck and allowed herself to be pulled into the opposite direction.
Tony Hawk eat your heart out!
“To the car!” Mystery blonde woman yelled and pointed to a black convertible. She hopped behind the wheels and took off once her Hobbits were on board. Driving the car straight into the park she clearly hoped to cut off Buffy and re-entered the street right behind her.
With a maniacal grin Mystery blonde woman pushed the car against Buffy and almost squashed her against the pickup truck. Buffy had to steer aside of the pickup truck to stay clear. But this placed her right in the path of a parked car with its door open.
“WHOA!!!!” Buffy yelled as she let go, steered towards the curb and jumped on it.
Which brought her into a straight collision course of two people leaving the courthouse stairs.
Knocking into the two pedestrians the three of them fell to the ground in a shower of whirling paper. To her surprise Buffy saw she had knocked into Willow and Tara.
Elderly versions of Willow and Tara in their 40’s but still.
Before she could say anything she heard the roar of a V8 engine car behind her. Driving unto the curb Mystery blonde woman came straight for her so Buffy grabbed her ad hoc skateboard and took off again.
She was off again as behind her Mystery blonde woman drove the car past Willow and Tara scrambling for safety.
Without Slayer/Super Slayer strength Buffy had no hope to outrun the car and she turned around on her skateboard and gripped the front of the car. This allowed Mystery blonde woman to now push Buffy wherever she wanted to.
As the ill looking Hobbits screamed and jeered at Buffy Mystery blonde woman turned the car around the corner, on a collision course to a large parked truck ahead.
“I’m gonna ram him,” Mystery blonde woman said determined as one of the Hobbits giggled. Buffy looked behind her and saw the truck coming near very fast.
“Please let it work just as in the movie,” she muttered, then she hopped onto the car’s hood, stepped on top of the wind shield, into the car past Mystery blonde woman and the giggling Hobbit, then the backseat bench, onto the car’s trunk and then gliding over the back of the car on top of her skateboard again. She then stopped her skateboard and turned around.
This was going to be fun!
As Mystery blonde woman and her Hobbits looked at Buffy they failed to pay attention to what was ahead until it was too late.
“SHIT!” they yelled and then they slammed sideways into the truck labeled Das Manure and a fuckton of manure fell into their laps, burying the occupants.
Yeah, it was fun,” Buffy grinned as from all across the square townspeople came running to see what had happened. Even from where she was standing she could smell the dung.
Next the thing the two kids came up to her, still holding their soapbox crates. Seeing them Buffy tapped her ‘skateboard, grabbed the front and held it out towards the kid.
“Thanks a lot, kid,” she said and patted him on the back.
“Hmmmmm,” the kid said in a voice which was totally different.
He now also looked different.
With pointy ears.
“Feeling good you are now?” Yoda said holding the ‘skateboard’.
“Yeah, I kinda do,” Buffy said smirking briefly, “But I got a pretty good idea that you’re going to rain some cryptic on me right about now to ruin my day.”
“Learn how to see you must,” Yoda said reprovingly, “Think like a Jedi you are not.”
“That’s because I’m not a Jedi!” Buffy said annoyed, “You want me to think like a Saiyan? I can do that! But I’m not Luke Skywalker.”
Yoda looked at her, then he shook his head in dejection.
“Then help you I cannot,” he sighed. Then he put down the skateboard and stepped on it.
“Protect the Sister you must, the key she is. Be the Hero,” Yoda said as he looked over his shoulder. Then he pushed off and skateboarded away from her.
“Yeah, I get that now,” Buffy called after him, then she turned around and walked away into the other direction, “Dumb ass Muppet. At least tell who me the damn Beast is.”
In the manure covered car something stirred. Then a hand emerged.
“I'm gonna get that son-of-a-bitch,” an angry voice said from underneath the manure. Then a head emerged.
It was Ben.
AN: Since you guys liked the previous Slayer dream so much I decided to do another. Lots of ideas were entertained and auditioned when I hit upon the café scene from Back to the Future. Have the whole gang be there in some form, just in a different form. And then transition to another scene. I couldn’t think of anything else and then it hit me. Why not have the dream be the whole café/car chase scene instead?
I wonder, does this make this the official fifth TtH Back to the Future crossover?