Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Accidental Redemption ❯ GHOSTS OF THE PAST ( Chapter 1 )

ACCIDENTAL REDEMPTION

By Evil Saint

I. GHOSTS OF THE PAST

*I lie awake on a long, dark night

I can't seem to tame my mind

Slings and arrows are killing me inside

Maybe I can't accept the life that's mine

No I can't accept the life that's mine

"Twenty cycles..." The young man sighed in quiet contemplation, staring through the opaque darkness of night as it spilled into his sparsely furnished bedroom.

This planet ~ Earth ~ had completed twenty revolutions around its star since the demise of his birthplace, countless light-years away. He could almost feel the orb spinning on its axis, hurtling through the void in a ceaseless race against the other bodies in the system as he lay motionless, wading wearily through the churning oblivion that was his memories.

His callused sinew cried out for the rejuvenating embrace of slumber, yet his mind refused to yield. His psyche had won the battle for consciousness a while ago, yet he was still struggling to escape the horrors that dwelled within the abominable realm of his dreams. His eyes, black as the night around him, skimmed his surroundings every few seconds, half expecting an obscured attacker to ambush him from the shadows.

The anguished alien had occupied these modest quarters for many months already, but they were still as strange to him as the day he took up residency. The guestroom of the Capsule Corp. compound was far more spacious than the cell-like lodgings he'd been accustomed to, leaving him feeling exposed rather than comforted.

He knew though, that his tension was unfounded. Logic told him that no one would harm him; that he was not in peril; but to him "peace" was nothing but a foreign concept, reserved solely for the natives of the blue-green sphere he now deemed his home.

"Home…" The simple word escaped his lips in little more than a jaded breath, yet it was loaded with all the fear and suffering, all the regret and seething hatred he'd carried with him since his youth. As the ghosts of the past continued their maddening procession through his thoughts, his mind paused to once more relive the day he became an outcast in the Universe, forever robbed of a place to belong…

~*~* ~*~

"We should've left by now. What's the hold up?" The small boy thought to himself as he lay stretched on his bunk, scowling at the familiar metal walls and ceiling that surrounded him. His jet-black hair was spiked away from his little face in a military fashion and his midnight eyes were a perfect reflection of the desolate abyss of deep space, looming beyond the porthole of his compartment.

A blood-red planet drifted ominously in the distance; the menacing colour serving as a warning of the dangers that lurked on the harsh, unforgiving surface.

Although the child couldn't see it from the confines of his chamber, he was well aware of the majestic mass floating off the port bow of the galactic battleship that had housed him for most of his young life. In truth he was thoroughly acquainted with it.

He knew that the planet was called Vegeta and that it was revered as mother to the Saiyan people: A warrior race as violent and raging as the volcanic terrain of their homeworld. He also knew that most of the ship's passengers were less than thrilled with their close proximity to a world teaming with a bloodthirsty species ~ whose infant offspring were powerful enough to slay entire armies ~ yet he was not afraid…

The scarlet crest that adorned the breastplate of his battle armour was in fact the royal seal of the Saiyan King himself and the boy was none other than the crown prince, sharing the name of the planet his ancestors had ruled for over three millennia. Within the bowels of the Li Narag however, Prince Vegeta's title held very little authority. In accordance with a treaty his father had signed with the owner of the vessel, he was in effect little more than a slave awaiting his master's bidding.

The reason for the regal child's servitude was a complicated matter, founded largely in the Universal truth that no mortal power is absolute.

The mighty Saiyans had reigned unchallenged as the supreme conquering force in the Universe, ever since the birth of the Planet Trade. They had a hard-earned reputation for being cruel and took pleasure in flaunting their inherent brutality as they enslaved thousands of defenceless worlds, priding themselves upon their savagery. They prized strength, pride and discipline; disregarding "weak" sentiments like pity, tolerance and mercy. In short, they were a wave of devastation and no one held the strength to stay them… until one fateful day when the shifting tides of power gave rise to a being far more heinous and fearsome than the combined potency of the Saiyan arsenal...

The Iceling known as Frieza had appeared as though from nowhere and his armies descended upon the galaxies like a plague of locusts, leaving nothing but smouldering ash and ruin in their wake. Those who dared to oppose the reptile's escalating power were maliciously subdued until all resistance had been crushed into dust beneath his murderous wrath. There were even rumours that whole planets had been demolished, decimating all of their inhabitants in one fell swoop.

The people of Vegeta had heard the whispers of the monster's abilities, but the Saiyans were an arrogant race and none believed that a force existed in the Universe, capable of threatening their formidable stake in the balance of power. Thus, when Frieza commenced his long awaited onslaught against the might of Vegeta, the Saiyans did not hesitate to unleash their own armies in deviance against the lizard's advancing horde.

It was a clash of unprecedented proportions as the titans of the Universe collided in a vicious battle for dominance. The war raged for days upon the barren wastelands of space as wave after wave of avid Saiyan warriors ploughed through the terrified legions sent to overthrow them. The Saiyans were merciless in their assault on the Iceling's soldiers, slaughtering their foes like cattle and screaming out their bloodlust as they feasted on the charred carcasses of the fallen. Their victory seemed immanent and the fighters were confidant in the belief that the people of Planet Vegeta had once again secured their position at the top of the Universal food chain, when without warning, Frieza himself decided to join in the carnage.

The troops had no chance to prepare themselves or even comprehend their doom as the serpentine mutant discharged his unfathomable power upon the Saiyan regiments, stripping flesh from bone as a colossal ball of pure energy engulfed them. The agonising cries of the dying battle-kin were swallowed up by the swirling light until nearly all had been extinguished, leaving only a handful alive to give testimony to the unholy power they had witnessed.

In a last-ditch effort to save his people from total annihilation, King Vegeta entered into a cooperation agreement with Frieza, effectively placing all of his planet's resources and citizens ~ including his young son ~ at the Iceling's disposal.

A little over four years had gone by since that catastrophic day and, as was his routine, the little prince was once again preparing to toil within the pitfalls of slavery after a brief return to the pedestal of royal grace that was his birthright. His father's contract had reduced him to a common purger of the Planet Trade and aboard Frieza's accursed ship he was less than vermin. It was the life he had grown into and at his tender age he hadn't had the chance to learn of anything else. His body and mind were those of a young boy, yet his eyes were cold and drained of the innocent wonder of childhood, projecting a spirit already hardened by the atrocities of his daily life.

Threatening to destroy his father's kingdom was the pallid Iceling's favourite method of keeping the Saiyan child in line and he never missed an opportunity to fuel the boy's anxiety. Thus the prince did not like Frieza being anywhere near his home and as always, he was rather anxious to have the venomous viper out of Planet Vegeta's domestic space. Vegeta waited impatiently for the ship to set sail, trying anew to get used to the smell of decay that fumed from every square centimetre of the Li Narag, while occupying his thoughts with solving the mystery of his parents' peculiar behaviour prior to his departure...

He'd been awakened early that day by the servants charged with getting him ready for his return to Frieza's service. The prince hated these preparations, knowing what would soon follow, and coaxing the little warrior into cooperating was a hazardous undertaking, always leaving several of the attendants confined to regen-tanks. After two tedious hours of arguing and hurling energy balls at the underpaid staff, he was finally dressed, fed and waiting in the palace's courtyard for the unfortunate soul burdened with escorting his aggravated self to the docking bay. His mood was worsened by the fact that for the first time since enlisting in Frieza's army, he was denied the opportunity to say goodbye to his father, due to some "urgent matters of state" that demanded the king's attention.

Prince Vegeta stood poignantly on the terrace with his arms crossed, pouting at the ground as the hopelessness of his situation weighed heavily upon him. The lack of the king's habitual words of encouragement intensified his frustration and the boy had every intention of taking it out on the poor soldier assigned to chaperone him to the spaceport. He was expecting to be accompanied by one of the usual elites in his father's Royal Guard, but surprisingly his mother had been the one to come see him off, at once banishing his father's upsetting absence to the back of his mind.

Being the crown prince, he was hardly privileged to social interaction with his mother and thus her morning visit was a highly irregular occurrence. It was common knowledge that he'd been conceived in a Petri dish ~ as had generations of his forbearers ~ and he hadn't had any contact with her outside of receiving training and tuition in military strategies.

His limited socialising with his maternal parent was not without good reason, if more for the king's sake than the prince's. It was a precautionary measure implemented on the grounds that Saiyans were innately monogamous and formed extremely powerful dependencies upon their chosen mates. Some couples even became so reliant on the mutual ties with their spouses that the loss of one would inevitably lead to the death of the other.

Naturally, the addictions of the Bond, as it was called, were ill suited to sovereigns and such unions were outlawed for Saiyan monarchs. The temptation of taking a soul mate was palliated by minimal exposure to appealing candidates and the provision of sizable harems of exotic pleasure slaves as distraction. When the time came to produce an heir, the most powerful fighter of the appropriate gender would be identified by the High Council, the needed genetics would be deposited at a laboratory and nine months later a child would be "born" without the parents ever having so much as exchanged pleasantries.

Prince Vegeta's mother was a particularly temperamental female by the name of Ti'elra, daughter of General Zendrak of the Veirex Clan. She was small by Saiyan standards, but her power was unrivalled amongst her peers. She had sleek, pitch-black hair that was always fastened into a tight braid to keep it out of her way. Her features were unusually soft for a Saiyan woman's, yet her fighting spirit was as rough as any of her kinsmen. Her skin was an even bronze and her brown eyes were like those of a hawk ~ always alert and always on the lookout for potential prey. She was an elite warrior, a militarist, and her every action was marked by iron self-control, which made her behaviour of that morning all the more befuddling…

They hadn't spoken a word during the flight to the docking bay, but aside from his mother's presence, the circumstances of the journey were nothing out of the ordinary. It was still very early when the regal pair landed at the boarding dock and they were the first to arrive, affording them some unheard-of privacy. It was then that Ti'elra bent down before her son in what he first believed to be a formal show of respect. However, instead of reciting the Mantra of Allegiance, she put one hand on his shoulder and stared into his face as though she had never laid eyes on him before, gently wiping an imaginary smudge from his cheek with the fingers of her free hand.

"Be brave my son. This nightmare ends soon," was her cryptic farewell, before she did something no one in his living memory had ever done before: She hugged him. He was startled when her powerful arms and tail encircled his body, but once he gave in to the security of her embrace he did not want her to let him go ever again. He mimicked the gesture, locking his wrists behind her neck and wrapped his tail around hers, his head resting against the reassuring warmth of her chest. He couldn't understand why he was so deeply affected by this unfamiliar contact between him and the stranger he knew to be his mother, or why his eyes were suddenly burning with tears. The two stayed entwined in each other's arms for a long moment until they were interrupted by a group of approaching soldiers, also underway to Frieza's ship. Ti'elra pushed her son away quickly, smacking him hard across the face when she saw his tear-stained cheeks.

"Princes don't cry!" She snarled, but he noticed that her voice was cracking slightly and that her normally sharp eyes were clouded with emotions of her own.

"Yes ma'am." He answered, saluting the woman by way of greeting and gathered up his belongings, before walking in the same direction the other soldiers had gone. With one last look over his shoulder he boarded the transport pod destined to carry him back to his own personal hell…

His train of thought was suddenly derailed by a loud, obnoxious hammering on the closed door of his cell. Vegeta jumped at the sound, but his fright was quickly relayed into anger.

"Fuck off!" He yelled defiantly at the ceiling, not even bothering to face the door as he spoke in the cultured language of a pirate's ship. At that, the door flew open to reveal a very large purple-scaled alien that Vegeta presumed to one of Frieza's elites.

"The Emperor wants to see you brat. So if you know what's good for you, you'll loose the attitude ~ pronto!" Frieza would only have him summoned for one of two reasons: Either he wanted to brief him for a mission or he was looking for a sentient punching bag to pass the time and under the present circumstances it was depressingly unlikely that he was being called for purging detail.

With that in mind, Vegeta stifled a groan of dread and swung his legs over the side of the bed, gathering his faculties to face whatever the sordid mutant had in store for him.

"Be brave my son. This nightmare ends soon." His mother's words kept sounding in his head as he followed the elite through the endless labyrinth of passageways that wound like arteries through the mammoth ship. Once they reached the main chamber, he struggled to keep his trembling under control, trying hard not to scare himself unnecessarily with images of the torture he expected the Iceling to inflict on him.

"Get in there!" The guard ordered and yanked open a heavy door, shoving him haphazardly into the room on the other side and closing him in with a loud thud of metal as the door slammed shut.

Inside, the prince was greeted by a sight that made his stomach turn and his chest clench with abhorrence: The lifeless forms of many Saiyan elites lay strewn across the main deck of the battleship and the entire hall was painted with their blood. A few metres in front of him lay the limp body of a man he immediately recognised as the Saiyan King and he felt his knees give way as the ghastly scene knocked the air from his lungs. He'd seen enough death to know when he looked upon the face of it and he knew that his father was no longer among the living, yet in that instant he couldn't bring himself to accept it. He crawled over to the mangled body and frantically began tugging at the royal robes.

"Father! Father wake up!!" He screamed hysterically, oblivious to blood pouring over his hands from his father's wounds as he shook the prone figure with all the ferocity he could muster.

Slowly, a shrill manic cackle filtered into his ears and when Vegeta looked up, it was directly into the face of the demon he knew to be his father's killer. The boy unhanded the dead king and calmly rose to his feet, his eyes burning with fury as unbridled, crimson hatred bloomed within him. Like his mother, the prince was short for a Saiyan, but at the age of six his height was already level with the Iceling's diminutive stature ~ proving that, like poison, the most potent of evils was indeed housed in a tiny container.

What possessed him to attack he didn't know, but at that moment he was so overwhelmed by mournful rage that he was completely blinded to anything that didn't include avenging his father. With a guttural cry Vegeta lashed out with every ounce of his power, flailing himself full force against a long despised adversary.

The prince's outburst could've levelled a solar system, but Frieza deflected his assault as easily as though it were nothing but child's play. The tyrant humoured the devastated boy by remaining on the defence for a moment, allowing him to vent his anger slightly, before launching an attack of his own.

Vegeta was caught in mid kick when the barbaric lizard turned, backing into the motion and struck upwards with a short, perfectly judged elbow smash that drove deep into the boy's lower ribs. The crack of splintering bone resounded through the chamber as the force of the blow sent the young Saiyan flying into the inner wall. He impacted close to the roof of the craft, rupturing his body further before the artificial gravity drew him down with a vengeance. Instead of hitting the floor however, his stomach connected with Frieza's crushing knee just as the Iceling brought his interlaced hands down in a savage, clubbing strike on the back of Vegeta's neck. Then Frieza was gone as quickly as he'd appeared, leaving his battered opponent to fall to the ground, writhing in pain.

"Well Lord Frieza, it looks like you were right about the little monkeys after all. Perhaps it would be best to exterminate them now before they become even more of a nuisance." Vegeta heard a toneless voice speak from the corner of the chamber and noticed for the first time that Frieza's generals, Zarbon and Dodoria, were also present in the room.

"Indeed Zarbon… *sigh*… it seems they leave me no choice." The reptile said with mock regret.

"… Hear that Vegeta? You've been a very naughty little simian and I'm going to make sure you learn your lesson once and for all." Vegeta's head was pounding and he was disoriented form his injuries, but he had no trouble decoding the mayhem in the Iceling's voice.

"… Dodoria, make sure he pays attention." Frieza ordered his grotesque ogre-like henchman, as he sauntered casually over to the large transparent forcefield that made-up the entire outer wall of the chamber.

Dodoria carried out his orders, promptly strutting over to the defeated prince and hauled him up roughly by the red cape of his royal armour. The boy didn't bother to struggle as the disgusting troll dragged him over to Frieza, murmuring unintelligibly under his breath. When Vegeta and his captor reached the lizard's side in front of the invisible shield, he raised his eyes to look upon the vermilion globe of his homeworld, now drifting in line with the sadistic serpent's ship.

Vegeta was expecting to be beaten to death and his eyes drifted shut as he serenely anticipated the condemning blows, but instead of striking him, Frieza began to speak in a relaxed ~ almost nostalgic ~ tone.

"Ah the Planet Vegeta, beautiful isn't it? The Ruby of the Universe. Capital of the mighty Saiyan Empire... I almost regret having to destroy it." The Oozaru within Vegeta stirred upon registering the apocalyptic words, bringing the young Saiyan back to his senses.

"No! No!!" He screamed as adrenalin pumped through his veins. Vegeta had witnessed the genocide of enough civilizations during his years in Frieza's employ to know that the reptile was not bluffing. Forgetting his injuries, the prince struggled frantically against Dodoria's iron hold, which only clamped tighter against his efforts. The boy watched in terror as the Iceling extended his index finger, holding it up against the forcefield that separated the inside of the ship from the harsh climate of deep space.

"No! Please Lord Frieza! Please don't!" He pleaded desperately as a violet ball of energy formed beyond the vibrating barrier, growing exponentially by the nanosecond into a gigantic mass of malignant chaos.

"I have to make you understand my little monkey prince. I own you. Everything you have belongs to me and you have nothing that I cannot take from you!" Frieza ranted, laughing excitedly as he gathered the energy needed to exterminate the bothersome apes that had been a thorn in his side for far too long. When he had gathered a sufficient amount of energy he flicked his wrist, letting his laughter escalate into bloodcurdling screeches of aberrant abandon as the monstrous power went flying on a direct collision course with the awesome homeworld of an ancient warrior race. The helpless prince looked on in silent horror as his kingdom was shredded at the seams, consumed by the fire of demonic justice. Within mere minutes Planet Vegeta and its people were gone without a trace of proof that they'd existed at all ~ save for a little boy who remained to preserve their legacy...

At that moment the entire hall became engulfed in a flash of gold as something like the wall of a mighty dam broke in Vegeta's soul. He felt a primordial pent-up energy surge through him, elevating him to a powerlevel he didn't know existed. He didn't question the source, or whether he could control it. All he knew was that the power was his and that he wanted to use it, regardless of the ramifications. With an almost feral roar he sprang free from Dodoria's grasp, flinging the general aside like a rag doll to crash into his teal-skinned comrade, before turning his newly discovered strength on an incredulous Frieza.

The chamber filled with blinding light as Vegeta's energy seared its path across the deck, cremating the remains of the fallen Saiyan warriors and sending Frieza tearing through the sturdy alloy of a bulkhead as if it were paper. Time stopped for the orphaned prince as he dove after his foe, his body coiled like a spring in anticipation. He leapt forward, his hair a golden blaze around his head with fire in his emerald eyes, and closed in on his target.

The lizard was still being propelled through the air, gravity nullified by the energy's force, when the Saiyan attacked. Within a fraction of a split-second Vegeta was upon his enemy, extending his arms in an imperceptible forward punch that struck the Iceling full in the face, sending him careening to the ground with a loud thud that rocked the entire ship.

The boy emerged panting form his assault and watched with wondrous amazement as a thin stream of indigo blood dripped from the dumbstruck Iceling's mouth, but before Vegeta could make another move the power became too much and to his chagrin he lost his hold on it, feeling it slip away to leave him empty and exerted. He fell to his hands and knees, completely exhausted and then consciousness abandoned him.

He awoke some time later on the floor of the brig, bound tightly at his wrists and ankles with the snake himself standing guard. He couldn't believe that he was still alive after the stunt he had pulled. When he questioned Frieza about it, the lizard informed him that death would be an easy escape and that he deserved to suffer for his insolence... And suffer he did.

It took ninety-four hours in a regen-tank for him to recover from the beating Frieza had given him as punishment for his gall, but that night when he returned to his putrid accommodation he was far from broken, for he was a boy with a mission. He had drawn blood from Frieza ~ only a miniscule amount of blood, but blood nonetheless! That proved that the Kold Emperor wasn't indestructible.

Even young as he was, he had the mind of a sovereign and he knew what needed to be done: He had to distance himself from his pain and forget his loss, burying it forever in the sands of time. Sadness and mourning were distractions that he couldn't afford. What mattered now was his own survival and for that he needed the strength and the focus to dedicate his every waking moment to the Legend alone. The child had gotten the smallest taste of the fabled power of his forefathers and one day he would harness it. Then the treacherous reptile would pay for his crimes against the prince and people of Planet Vegeta…

~*~* ~*~

The memory was more bitter then sweet, but the image of the vile Iceling's surprise as he landed that one crushing punch was enough to make Vegeta snigger in satisfaction. He had come a long way since then and so much had changed. He'd been rid of Frieza's bonds for nearly two years and he'd accomplished a great deal in that time, but all his feats seemed so meaningless when measured against his inadequacies.

What did it matter that Frieza's generals were rotting away in hell by his hand? What was the point that he'd reduced the Li Narag to rusting chunks of space debris? Where was the glory in single-handedly scattering the monster's armies like dust in the wind?

The fact remained that when the chips were down, he had not been the one to end the Ice Emperor's reign of tyranny. He had failed to claim his revenge and in his failing he became subject to the humiliation of being surpassed by the lowly son of a third-class soldier. His lineage should have sealed the Legendary status as his alone, but by some cruel mockery of fate it did not. By a flaw in the Universal design the right by blood which he had fought his entire life to claim had eluded him until now, only to be handed down like some cheap trinket to an unworthy peasant who hadn't even been raised according to Saiyan traditions!

But even this paled against the paramount dishonour that permeated his entire existence, tainting not only himself, but his very bloodline, past and future ~ should he ever breed.

It was a disgrace he hadn't even been aware of until his predestined death at the Iceling's hands. Moments before his passing a veil lifted from his eyes and he saw his life for what it truly was: A waste ~ nothing but an honourless, disgraceful waste. Not because he failed to save his world or protect his people; not because of servitude or degradation; not because he wasn't strong enough to kill Frieza when push came to shove and not because he'd been bettered by a soft-hearted commoner…

No, his true shame was that throughout his trials and tribulations he had somehow lost himself along the way to embody that which he despised most: He had become the Saiyan incarnation of Frieza himself, and in that lay his greatest failing of all.

He sighed deeply, as though trying to gather his pain in the centre of his chest and expel it in a single outward breath, staring at the pristine white walls of his room, shaded grey in remnants of the night. He didn't understand why the powers that be chose to grant him another chance. Perhaps his dying repentance hadn't fallen upon deaf ears and Kami took pity on him in his forlorn state. The thought made his upper lip curl in self-disgust.

"It wasn't enough for my death to be pathetic; it had to be pitiful as well!"

Still, deep down he had to acknowledge that he was grateful for his new lease on life, regardless of the reasons for its granting and he was determined not to squander his opportunities as he had the first time around. This time he would not shrivel up and die! He would fight the odds, and this time he would win.

He was no longer driven by his quests for immortality or Universal domination ~ those were Frieza's aims, not his ~ but Vegeta's ultimate goal remained unchanged and he was seeking it with renewed vitality.

The prince was stronger now than ever and he was so close to breaking the barrier that separated him from the prophesised power that he could practically taste victory. Soon he would personify the Legend of his ancestors, shaking off the shackles of his past and then he would undo his failings. Then he could fulfil the vow he had made all those years ago and he would settle the debt he owed to his people; to his family; his father; and most of all to himself. He would become the Super Saiyan and finally be free of his limitations and his shortcomings… Free of ridicule and pain… Free of the history that haunted him…

"Enjoy your supremacy while you can Kakkarot, it won't last long." He thought ~ more to himself than his Earth-reared rival ~ giving him the final motivation he needed to pull his nude form out of bed. He headed for his closet and threw on his training suit, hell bent on continuing his bone-bruising ascent up the evolutionary ladder.

His purpose of old shone within him like a beacon of hope as he stepped out onto the balcony of his second story bedroom, allowing the fresh air of dawn to caress his fatigued muscles for a moment before summoning his energy to drift gracefully over the ledge and down to the lush green lawn of the Capsule Corp. gardens. He marched over to the spot where a space pod with a Gravity Training unit had been secured for his use by his hosts ~ Dr. Briefs and his genius daughter who also happened to own the multi-billion zenni Capsule Corporation.

He punched in the security code that unlocked the pressure-sealed hatch of the craft and went inside. There, he moved to the control panel of the gravity simulator, setting it at 350 times Earth's normal gravity and immediately immersed himself in his rigorous training routine; illuminating the darkness within; buying temporary reprieve from the recollections that wracked him.

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