Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A tiny twist in time ❯ Pirate ( Chapter 7 )

        Turles surveyed the data sent by the probe, and the rest of the data scrolling in on various screens. He turned his attention to the viewport, negligently tapping the scouter fastened over his eye. Several unusually high readings met his inquiry. One stood out, and he knew without a doubt that he’d found one of the Saiyans that had come to the planet.         He tucked a finger in his pocket, stroking over the seed that rested there. Only one reading high enough to be a Saiyan, but the reports indicated three surviving Saiyans. The reports could be wrong, and a smirk twisted his lips as he recognized the plain truth of the idea.         Turles chose to leave the crew on the ship, and went alone to investigate the highest signal. Another Saiyan sat in front of three oddly shaped rocks; rocks he soon realized were inscribed with two of the three missing Saiyans’ names. “Where is Nappa?” he asked.         “He is buried on the battlefield where he died.” Dull black eyes met his. “Are you here to try to destroy this world too?”         The absolute lack of anything living in those eyes chilled him. “If I am?”         “Then I’ll bury you, too.” A hand reached to touch one of the stones. “My son won’t be here to help me this time, but my brother and our prince won’t be able to help you.”         “Your son?” Turles studied the other Saiyan more closely. They were very, very similar, but there was a lack of spirit about the other that made him seem already dead. “You went native?”         “Went native? I was an earthling, as far as I knew. I only found out about my arrival, and the accident that took my memories, after Raditz came. Gohan was four years old before I learned I was Saiyan. A year later, I had no family left.”         Turles had noticed the braids by then. “Whose hair have you braided into your own?”         One hand crept up to touch first one braid, “Vegeta,” and the other, “my brother, Raditz.”         He was too late, then. Jaded and empty as the Saiyan seemed, he had already claimed the kingdom. This man had felled three Saiyans, one of them the Prince himself. Turles knew himself no match for the other, even in his current listless state. “My king.” He dropped to one knee, arm crossing over his chest in a salute. “My ship awaits your command.”         “Ship?”         “My spaceship. We are ready to leave at any time, if you desire to rescue the last of our race from Frieza.”         “Frieza? I thought the Saiyans worked for Frieza?”         Turles snorted. “You don’t, and I’m a space pirate. I work for whoever provides the best fee. But this other, Brolli, has been taken as a slave by one of Frieza’s lieutenants. From all reports, he has been made a pet. A pleasure slave.”         “Do you know where they are?”         Ah, so this new king would not leave a subject enslaved. Turles watched the king uncurl and rise. “They are on Frieza’s flagship, headed for the planet Namek.”         “You’ll take me there.”         Turles approved of the steely determination in his voice and the fighting glitter that had filled his eyes. “Of course, my king. I am Turles.”         His king frowned, looking at the graves. “Vegeta and Raditz called me Kakarot. I am more used to the name Goku.”         “Goku is not a Saiyan name.”         “No, it isn’t.” The man looked around him. “Everything I care for is here.” He bent, picking up a small satchel. “Where is your ship?”         “Follow me, King Kakarot.” Turles stifled a chuckle at the king’s wince, and took off for the skies. He let the seed fall where it would as the king followed him to his ship. There was one free room, and Turles soon had his new king quartered and fed. He left the new Saiyan king sleeping. The tree bore fruit the next day. He gathered it, checked the still sleeping king, and ordered his crew to Namek.