Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A Saiyan Homecoming ❯ Battle Pt I: Vegeta Signs His Fate ( Chapter 5 )

Ye old disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.

A Saiyan Homecoming

By Nadia Rose

Chapter 5: Battle Pt 1: Vegeta Signs His Fate

Trunks sighed and shut his laptop off, neatly sliding it back into the locking case he used to protect it while abroad. There was no way anything short of a highly-concentrated blast from a Super-Saiyan would break it, and even that was questionable. It was constructed from the same material the latest version of the gravity room was-and they hadn't been able to even scuff the surface of that yet.

All of Capsule Corps portable secrets were perfectly safe, which was why Trunks felt free to leave. He'd been away from home for a good three weeks, and he needed a break from work. He needed to vent all of his pent-up Saiyan energy, and there was only so much he could do in a hotel gym without raising too many eyebrows.

He needed a good meal, a good spar, and some time with his wife.

The purple-haired CEO rose and stretched like a cat before journeying to the room next door, which housed his chief financial/legal advisor. He knocked on the door as he opened it, finding Bob Mann spread-eagled on the bed with an ice pack across his eyes. "Headache?"

"Are they this bad every day?" Bob moaned despairingly. "That woman has a voice that could shatter glass."

"I thought it was more like fingernails on a chalkboard," Trunks agreed, keeping a straight face, then shrugged. "At least I'm married; I think she took a liking to you."

Another wail was his only response. "Must you remind me?"

Trunks smirked and dropped into a chair. "Oh, come on Bob. She's rich," he cajoled, "and smart…"

"And about as attractive as Hercule Satan in a dress." Bob retorted sarcastically.

Trunks raised one purple eyebrow. "I pray to Dende that's something we never see," he deadpanned.

Bob stared at him blankly, missing the obvious reference, and Trunks shrugged. "At least it's only for a few days," he attempted to soothe the man's tense nerves. "And then you can go back to Capsule Corps and forget this ever happened."

Trunks watched as the slightly neurotic assistant relaxed into the bed, relieved that Trunks wasn't going to strand him out here alone. Of course, that was exactly what he was planning to do.

He stood and walked to the medicine cabinet, dropping a few aspirin beside the glass of water on the table. "Why don't you swallow these, close your eyes, and just take it easy until the meeting tomorrow evening." He managed to make his voice soothing and kept his face straight. "I'm going to go up to my room, lock then door, and then head for home. I'll be back tomorrow in time for the meeting, so there's nothing to panic about. You'll be just fine here by yourself until I come back tomorrow afternoon. Right?"

"Right boss," Bob echoed like a good mindless employee. "I'll be just fine until you come back tomorrow afternoon."

Trunks suppressed another smirk; it worked every time. "Good," he continued in his sickeningly sweet voice. "I'll see you tomorrow then." He began to edge for the door. "Bye Bob."

"Bye Mr. Briefs," Bob murmured, still not realizing what had been said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

As Trunks opened the door, however, a bellboy's cheerful face greeted him. "Here you are, Mr. Briefs," he spouted. "I have a message for you from Miss Champagne, and since you weren't in your room I was going to bring it down to Mr. Mann's room to see if he knew where you were…"

"Thanks for bringing it down," Trunks snatched the envelope off the tray the bellboy was carrying "In fact, any messages that come into the hotel for me can be delivered here to Mr. Mann. I'm working on some technical plans in my room and don't want to be disturbed."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Briefs," the bellboy agreed.

Trunks quickly tipped him and shut the door. When he looked up from it, his legal advisor was staring him straight in the eye. "You're leaving me here," the man questioned, eyes wide. "I can't stay here alone," he babbled, "You know how these people get, trying to find you at all hours of the night. The last time I came on one of these so called business trips we came back from dinner to find a mob in the hallway!"

Trunks couldn't resist a smirk at the memory.

"That wouldn't have been so bad," Bob continued, now in full swing, "except it was a mob of obsessed women determined to catch your attention by throwing their underwear at you!" The man crossed the room and planted one hand on the doorjamb, as if he could possibly stop Trunks from opening the door. "And then-then there was that whole little incident in Greece where you shattered an entire pillar at the Parthenon! Thankfully it wasn't one of those supporting anything, but it didn't keep the officials from being damn close to a lynch mob; and you skipped out then, too-you and your sister both!"

The young demi-saiyan hadn't meant to break that pillar-he'd only been leaning against it-but then Bra had come up and tried to surprise him with a punch, except it hadn't been a surprise. He'd ducked, and her fist had hit the pillar…and then gone right through it.

"But I think the worst was that little clique we met in Paris…filled with people who were convinced you were an alien! And then there was that woman…who swore up and down for hours that not only were you an alien, but you were the purple-haired man who fought in the Cell Games! What are you supposed to say to something like that?"

"You should have told them it's true," Trunks retorted. "That would have shut them up and sent them off."

"No," Bob said firmly. "Telling lies to the public is not something I do-that's your sister's department, and I sure as hell don't want to get on her bad side. What I do is work with numbers-but every time I come out here to help you consult on one of these little projects we somehow manage to come across a group of society's rejects or rabid women, and you somehow mysteriously disappear, leaving me to deal with them-alone!"

Trunks shrugged. "Can't I help it if I'm popular?"

If looks could kill, Trunks would have been standing before King Yemma at the moment.

He laughed. "This is a tiny little town-no crazed stalkers, no girl mobs, and I haven't broken anything. Nothing's going to happen. If anyone comes looking for me, tell them I'm in my room working on the schematics of a tele-chrono-dimensional transport; there's been some sort of electrical disconnection somewhere in the machine, and it's a matter of life and death for me to fix it. That's technical enough to deter all but the most stout-hearted."

Bob repeated the explanation blankly. "…What is that?"

Trunks smiled. "I used a wire from Mom's time machine in one of my gadgets, and I have to replace it before she finds out and kills me." He pulled the door open. "I'll be back tomorrow morning; you'll be fine."

He continued down the hallway to his room, leaving his assistant standing numbly next to his own open door. Just as Trunks door slammed shut, the man called out. "Wait a minute! Capsule Corps has a time machine?"

But Trunks was already gone.

* * * * * * *

Three-quarters of the way across the planet, his wife found herself dangling off the edge of a cliff by the fingertips of one hand. She started to swing herself back onto the rocky ledge she'd fallen from, but a gust of wind caught her and she slid down the rock face another fifty yards before she wrapped her fingers around the trunk of a small tree protruding from the rock and stopped her descent once more. As if that wasn't enough, some boulders she had dislodged on her way down were bouncing towards her. With a grunt, she swung her feet to rest on the cliff wall and pushed off just in time to miss being plowed by a rock the size of a city bus as it slowly bounced down into the canyon.

She stood in the air and caught her breath, feet dangling beneath her as a number of smaller rocks slid down the side of the mountain. A slightly evil thought crossed her mind and she ducked beneath an overhanging protrusion and squashed her ki. Hovering silently, she only had to wait a few minutes before she saw her opponent come sailing past, searching for her.

"Pan?" Ubuu called, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice. "Pan? Where are you?"

Using a tiny ki blast, she sent a loose rock several meters away from her clattering down the sheer rock face. When Ubuu whirled to look at it, he turned his back to her, exactly what she had been hoping for. She pounced, closing her fist and wrapping her arm around the much bigger man's neck, while the other hand grabbed one of his arms at the elbow. "I've got you," she teased.

"Really?" She could hear the laughter in his voice. Before she could react, he had broken free of her grasp, grabbed one of her ankles and tossed her away from him. She fell into lake below with all the grace of a dodo bird, sending up a geyser of icy water.

The demi-saiyan kicked her way towards the surface, flinging her full head of black hair back once she was able to breath again. "I suppose I deserved that," she called to her companion, who had landed a few feet away from the edge of the water. "This is freezing!"

Ubuu shrugged. "Don't tease me."

Pan wrinkled her nose at him, and climbed out of the lake, shaking furiously. Ubuu turned away courteously as her loose two-piece gi clung to her body in some rather embarrassing places. A short ki blast later, she was dry, finger combing the tangles out of her hair. "You can turn around now."

Ubuu spun around again, offering her a brilliant smile. "We had a good spar, today, I think."

Pan nodded in agreement, frowning as the leather of her fingerless gloves cracked from the rapid drying process. "Very good." She agreed. "I almost beat you."

Ubuu's smiled good-naturedly. "If we keep sparring like this, you will soon enough."

Pan frowned, eyes flashing. "You held back again, didn't you?"

Ubuu shrugged. "No. I stayed within the limitations we set. You don't transform, I don't use my Buu attacks on you, and we both improve."

"There's something to be said about beating the crap out of each other with just your fists," Pan commented, shaking out the red cloth that encased her legs. "When I used to spar with Nana I learned more in one day then I would from a week of training with my father."

Ubuu glanced at her, surprised. "Mrs. Chi-Chi spars with you?"

"She used to, when I was younger. She knows more different forms of martial arts than even Grandpa Goku, and taught me more about relying on my style instead of my strength." Pan shrugged. "Then I conned Daddy into teaching me, and got more into counting on my strength to pull me through, instead of my skill." She sat down on one of the boulders, pulling her legs to her chest and pillowing her chin on her knees. "I miss Daddy," she murmured forlornly.

Ubuu watched her worriedly; the girl he'd come to think of like a sister was slowly turning into a shell of herself over worry about her father. He laid a hand on her shoulder and patted it awkwardly. "I'm sure Professor Son will come home soon. The Supreme Kai promised he wouldn't be gone for too long."

Pan leaned her cheek against his callused hand. "It's not me I'm worried about-I'm a grown woman, and was when Daddy left. It's Barden; he looks up to Daddy so much…and all little boys need their fathers around when they grow up." She sighed, and Ubuu flinched inside at the sight of the crystalline tears welling in her dark eyes. He hated it when Pan cried. "The last time he spent the day with me he watched the video tape of Dad's lecture series I did; he told me he didn't remember what his voice sounded like anymore."

The dark-skinned man wasn't sure what to say to comfort her, he'd never known his father-he was the most evil being in the universe reincarnated, after all. Fortunately for his social skills, a conglomeration of the planet's highest kis caught his attention. Bra, one he always tried to listen for, was fighting someone, someone with a massive ki that he could almost recognize. It felt strong-strong and ordered-well organized despite the massiveness that had to be a Saiyan with the ability to transform. There was a familiar flavor-one that he couldn't recognize.

Then, as he listened carefully, Bra's ki lowered drastically; like she'd been injured. The bright untrained blob that was Barden rushed towards her…and there was a darker ki rushing towards the area. Vegeta. Ubuu's eyes widened as he realized the Saiyan Prince was in super-saiyan-and prepared to fight. Then the other ki level easily rose to match that of the Prince-and Ubuu was able to categorize it. At the center of the ordered ki was a burnishing white ball of pure power that could only belong to one man. Son Gohan. Who was matching Vegeta's ki decibel to decibel-they were going to get into a fight in the middle of a horde of innocent humans.

Ubuu shot to his feet, pulling Pan up by the shoulder. "Pan-we've got to get going. Professor Son is back."

Pan's eyebrows shot up. "How-how do you know? I haven't heard anything-haven't felt his ki at all."

Ubuu was already in the air, and Pan was close on his heels. "His ki is different," Ubuu told her. "It's much stronger than it was before…and it feels….restless." He rolled over in the air so he could see her face. "I wasn't following very closely-but…I think he just attacked Bra."

Pan's eyebrows nearly reached her hairline. "Daddy wouldn't attack Bra, would he," she wondered aloud.

"I wouldn't think so," Ubuu said, "but that's not important right now. He and Vegeta are preparing to do battle-right in the middle of town."

Pan glanced at him and nodded. She closed her eyes and cried out, pushing her ki past the limits of a normal Saiyan. When she opened them again, they were the hard pupil-less green of a Super-Saiyan, her now stiff golden hair fanning out in a perfect wave behind her. "Let's go."

* * * * * *

A well-traversed part of Satan city was currently the sight of a modern version of a shootout. While the two combatants warily circled each other in the air, the streets below were a mass of people rushing to get off the street. Videl was down on the street below, bellowing instructions at the top of her lungs, trying to get innocents out of the danger zone as quickly as possible. Barden was digging frantically though the rubble of the shoe-store under Bulma's direction, leaving the two Saiyans free to bash each other into bloody pulps.

Said Saiyans were too busy trying to intimidate each other to start fighting. Gohan was staring at Vegeta, eyes nearly red with anger. Bra had hurt him, and his control was too far gone to recognize where he was or what he was doing. All he knew was that if Vegeta wanted a fight, he would be more than happy to oblige. Vegeta was staring down the bigger Saiyan, trying to spot any weaknesses in the man's stance-he had casually deflected a blast that could have easily taken out Frieza.

This man was strong-but he would pay for touching Bra. Somehow, someway, he would make him regret what he'd done.

With a low growl, Vegeta closed the distance between them and attacked.

* * * * * *

Videl swore fluently as she heard the shock waves the colliding fists created. They were really fighting-and not in the ki-blast way she expected them to, but with fists and feet. It had to be some sort of Saiyan honor system, but she didn't want to think about that at the moment. She couldn't-there were too many innocent lives in danger. People were running into buildings where they were only putting themselves into more danger. If a loose ki blast or limb were to hit one of the buildings, it would collapse.

Moving on instinct, Videl entered the nearest building and began screaming orders once more.

* * * * *

Vegeta slammed his elbow into the back of the man before him with maniacal glee, intensified when the man grunted and spit a small amount of blood onto the ground. The mysterious Saiyan, whoever he was, put up a good fight. He swerved away when his opponent growled and punched outwards, only to find an iron-hard foot up against his ribs. This time it was his turn to wince as his ribs all along one side cracked.

Before the pain could set in he was moving again, darting in and out with heavy blows designed to test the other's strengths and weaknesses. Each one of his punches was met and countered by muscular limbs enhanced by a power-up, but not by the most sacred of Saiyan transformations. It wasn't right-no Saiyan should be able to withstand a Super-Saiyan without being able to match that level!

Before he could ponder the mysterious man any further, a fist connected with his gut, but he refused to double over and countered with a punch and kick combination of his own that sent the other Saiyan flying backwards into the side of the Satan City mall.

Shrieks and screams could be heard wafting from the large hole in the wall. Vegeta smirked. Pathetic weakling humans.

A cloud of dust and breaking bricks announced his rival's emergence from the mall in a new location, trailing a cloud of clothing that he'd flown through. He ripped off the brightly-colored shirts worn by country-western dancers in disgust and charged Vegeta, knocking the Prince down into the street below, creating a nice Vegeta-sized crater below.

With a growl, Gohan surged down and grabbed the Prince by the front of his spandex gi and tossed him into the air. He wasn't finished fighting yet.

* * * *

Videl moaned in disbelief when she saw the small fleet of police cars arrive. In a matter of seconds the police had the street closed off so nobody could get away-guns pointed at the two Saiyans in the air. At the end of the street opposite her, she saw what had to be the current police chief and his head negotiator-she'd worked with them both before.

The man lifted a bullhorn to his lips and began to speak. "Stop! You're both under arrest! If you refuse to come peacefully we'll shoot."

Both Saiyans stopped and stared at the man down their noses as if he were a small bug that needed to be trodded on. Videl swore and began to run as Vegeta lifted his hand, fingers pointed as if it were a gun.

Things were about to get worse.

She took about four steps through the crowd before she remembered she could fly, and with a concentrated jump, shot into the air and sped towards the police chief and his negotiator. "GET DOWN!" She bellowed as loudly as she could, pushing herself to her limits. "GET DOWN! GET DOWN!"

The two, not realizing what she was screaming, waved cheerfully at her, thinking she was coming to help them. Her ki sensing skills weren't so out of practice that she couldn't feel Vegeta gathering his energy in preparation for blasting the two annoyances into the next dimension-and to know that she could not deflect it by herself, even if she could get there in time. But in true Son fashion, she put her strength to the test and went faster.

Vegeta had released his blast now-she was going to make it in time-but just barely. She abruptly stopped in the air, directing all available ki into a shield-her worst technique. Even after years of practice, she had never quite managed the quality of ki-shield one needed when sparring with Saiyans-or even abnormally strong humans. But with a small prayer to kami, Videl was determined to try.

If Dende had heard her plea, he had a most unusual way of responding, for from across the street, a tiny voice had started to scream. "Ka…me…ha…me…HA!"

Right before it reached the edge of her shield, Vegeta's blast was met and held by a blue-white ball of light that had originated from her young son. Videl couldn't resist a twinge of respect for the boy, bravely countering a fully-powered blast from a Super-Saiyan. As she watched in shock, the little boy flew in front of her, pouring all of his ki into countering the other man's blast. "LEAVE MY MOM ALONE VEGETA," he roared.

A millimeter at a time, the blue white blaze forced the golden ki back-Videl was wondering where the heck Barden's power was coming from-but then it was gone, leaving Barden with barely enough energy to hover in the air.

A scream tore from Videl's throat-Vegeta was going to kill Barden if she didn't do something! With the instincts of a mother, she firmed up her shields and hurtled forward, intending to throw herself between her son and the blaze that would kill him, praying that he would get out of the way before her body was dissipated into nothing. She grabbed Barden by the shoulders, intending to push him away, but he stood firm, his hands still extended in an attack position, trying frantically to summon enough ki to form a blast.

Adrenaline gave Videl enough leverage to yank Barden aside and insert herself between his body and Vegeta's attack. She braced up, silently chanting that she loved her family, prepared to journey to the afterlife-again.

But then a hand planted itself between her shoulder blades and pushed.

Unable to stop herself, she toppled over, pulling the exhausted Barden down with her. She latched onto his waist and let herself tumble towards the crowd huddled below, which dispersed as far as they could. After a second another pair of hands caught her by the back of her shirt, helping her right herself. She was startled to see the pale blonde hair and icy blue eyes of 18 before her.

"That was very stupid," she said in her emotionless voice, "but very brave." She plucked Barden from Videl's limp grasp and laid him over her shoulder, then grabbed Videl's wrist and yanked them to the ground, towards the two stunned policemen whose lives Videl had been trying to save.

Videl followed their gazes to see a golden-haired version of her brother in law floating idly in the place where she had been only a second ago, deflecting the murderous blast with one of his own.

Barden looked up from his position on 18s shoulder and waved. "Thank you Uncle," he called weakly.

Goten glanced over at them and flashed a victory sign. "You guys ok?"

18 nodded. "They're fine," she called. "But if you don't want to visit your brother in the prison for the next few years you'd better get up there."

Goten was in the air in a flash, heading towards the two combatants-one who had only one look written in his eyes and across his face. Gohan was past angry-he radiated murderous intent. Videl had never seen him so utterly…Saiyan.

"It's the Gold Fighter!" A nameless, genderless voice from the crowd shouted in a conveniently quiet pause. "The Gold Fighter can save us!"

Videl shuddered. It was going to take more than one Super-Saiyan to stop from killing Vegeta-the man had signed his own death warrant. Gohan was going to kill him-or be killed trying.

With a hoarse cry, Gohan powered up to the second-level of Super-saiyan-something Videl had only seen him do once since she'd known him.

A hush fell over the crowd again.

"They're all Gold Fighters!" The same nameless, genderless voice despaired. "We're all going to die!"

As the crowd began to erupt into panic, Videl kept her eyes on the fighters, stunned by Gohan's display. While she knew a powered up Saiyan was a beautiful thing-this, this was simply amazing. This was her husband in a primal mode she had never experienced before, and it fascinated her.

With almost maniacal glee, Gohan reached out and wrapped both of his hands around Vegeta's throat and began to squeeze.

"Oniichan!" Goten's voice carried clearly. "Don't kill him!"

At Videl's shoulder, 18 chuckled. "It's going to take more than just words to stop him this time, Goten," she commented to herself. With a flick of her wrist, Barden had been removed from her shoulder and deposited him in Videl's arms. "Here. I'd better go help him. Krillin will be here in a minute," the android continued, taking to the air. She hovered for a moment in front of Videl. "Oh-do something about that," she pointed to the crowd that was now starting to get out of control, trying to get out. "They're in my line of fire." And with that she was gone-heading to help Goten pry Gohan's fingers off Vegeta.

Videl stared numbly at the crowd-then at the Police Chief and his negotiator, who were still staring at the scene before them, open-mouthed. Moving quickly, she walked to where the nearest officers were crouched behind their car doors and shoved an exhausted Barden into the empty seat. He tried to get up-tried to help, but she pushed him down again. "No. Rest, Barden; you've done more than enough. I can handle it from here." He nodded weakly and closed his eyes-trembling in his exhaustion.

Videl straightened up and winced as she heard the sound of a body hitting a building. "I hope," she muttered to herself.

Turning, she found herself face to face with a hundred police officers, all awaiting orders. The Chief wasn't any good to them now. Videl swiped the bullhorn out of the officer's hand and clicked it on. She had work to do.

* * *

End Pt 1

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