Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Dimensions of You ❯ Chapter 9 ( Chapter 9 )

The inhabitants of Yardrat had no hope of mercy at the hands of the young man that now stood over their leader. His hard, cold eyes looked right through the cowering creature in front of him before a hand raised and easily left nothing but a pile of smoking flesh behind.

Saryl raised those eyes to the other members of the court, and they suddenly had no fear of his ki blasts. His eyes were burning them enough. “The Lord Emperor Frieza has declared this planet be purged. Are there any more dissenters to his word?”

The court as one shook their heads and Saryl’s senses picked up the tangy smell as someone urinated in fear.

He cocked his head to one side, almost thoughtfully. “Good.” He thrust two fingers into the air sharply and the building shook around everyone, as its very foundations were broken. All three hundred acres of the palace fell down on its occupants, crushing the lucky ones and merely burying the others.

Saryl stood in the midst of the destruction, surveying his handiwork unscathed. He glanced at the one lone tower that still stood. Raising a finger, he flicked a ki blast that left it in the same ruined state as its surroundings.

Without a backward glance, Saryl went back to the equally unscathed pod that lie outside of the boundaries of the castle, and, therefore, out of the way of the destruction. This mission had been easy, too easy. He supposed that meant people were realizing that there was no resisting Emperor Frieza.

He stuck one foot in the pod and paused as he heard a tiny whimpering. He turned and looked disinterestedly in the direction of the rubble. It was coming from underneath a slap of concrete that was precariously balanced on one edge by another, more specifically, from a tiny tent-like hole between the two slabs.

Saryl made his way over to the slabs, picking his way through the debris without conscious thought. He crouched down and peered into the blackness, seeing two glimmering eyes looking back at him.

The tiny female child couldn’t have been older than five. Her long blonde hair hung lank and limp, framing a delicate face set with two deep pools of blue that were her eyes. Right now, those eyes were filled to the brim with tears that were leaving clean streaks down her grimy face. She whimpered again and tried to scramble back from the stranger, but was hampered by the slab, which held her leg, broken from the looks of it, in place quite firmly.

Saryl looked at the child with no hint of anything in his eyes. She stared back with warring emotions flickering easily across her face: fear, pain, confusion, hope. Finally deciding that the man’s silence meant he was undecided, she reached out her arms to him and made a wordless cry, a plea to be picked up and carried away from this nightmare.

Saryl cocked his head to the side as he had done in the court and nodded once before rising to his feet. With one swift kick, he knocked the slab loose from its resting place. It settled into place with a squish that was surely the sound of the child being crushed.

Saryl turned around and again made his way to the pod, this time entering without interruption. He settled into the one seat and tapped the scouter on its side. It responded with a metallic beep, letting the King know that the communication channel was open. “My Lord Frieza?”

The lizard’s slightly high-pitched voice answered. “Yes, Saryl? The purging is done?”

“As per your request, my lord. It is ready for selling.”

“Good. That would be…what? Planet number one hundred and twelve in only ten hours. Your best yet, my son.”

“That means that it was too easy, my lord.” Saryl snarled gruffly.

Frieza’s voice chuckled. “Well, then something a bit more challenging would be in order. Come back to the ship and I’ll reassign you.”

“Yes, my lord.” Saryl clicked the scouter again and the signal went dead. He couldn’t believe he was so sloppy. He nodded with no emotion as he recalled his mentor’s last words. It didn’t matter how well or bad Saryl did, Frieza was always pleased. Not that Saryl had ever been defeated yet. No one but Frieza was that strong.

He typed in the coordinates for Frieza’s ship and leaned back to wait as the ship took off from the now decimated planet into the inky depths of space. The surroundings reflected the state of Saryl’s soul, but the sixteen year old did not care about the state of his soul. He would gladly sacrifice all hope of salvation for the great emperor he served. *   *   *

Six years found Bulma sitting at the same table in the same kitchen, but not with the same thoughts or mood.

Mrs. Briefs was at the stove, cooking something that bubbled and enticed Bulma’s nose and stomach. Bulma smiled sadly as an image of Nappa seemed to appear beside Mrs. Briefs, face screwed in concentration, apron looking as ridiculous as it had back then. The memory faded and brought Bulma’s thoughts to another person.

Vegeta hadn’t come back to the house that night. In fact, no one had word or sight of him since Bulma had seen him last on the cliff. Sometimes she went to that cliff, if only to remember Nappa. She kept hoping Vegeta would come back to that place, but she knew that was wishful thinking. He obviously wanted to stay as far away as possible. Even Goku hadn’t been able to find him.

Dr. and Mrs. Briefs had acted similarly devastated at Vegeta’s absence. Mrs. Briefs had to stop herself from calling out to him when food was done and she sometimes burst out in tears. Dr. Briefs had acted stoic enough, saying that Vegeta had told him it would not be permanent. Obviously though, from the way he had to drag himself around the house and force himself to work on his projects, he’d taken Vegeta’s constant presence for granted.

Bulma couldn’t say she was doing any better. Vegeta’s leaving had unexpectedly saddened her. It made no sense. Not only had he lied to her and his foster family, but he was also supposed to have captured her for some unknown man’s pleasure. But she found that she missed his scowling face and grumbling complaints. She even missed him calling her woman, much as she hated such disrespect.

Bulma held up the tiny device she had filched off Radditz. It had turned out to be some sort of homing beacon. The technology was Frieza’s so she could only assume that Frieza was sending someone to check and see what the Saiyan had been up to. The device had been turned off, but it had sent back enough information for Frieza to find Radditz. She kept it to remind herself of the little time she had left on this planet. She would be glad to leave, truth be told.

The repairs on the ship had gone into overdrive. She knew they would be here soon and wanted to, hopefully, be gone. They wouldn’t sense any Saiyan ki’s on the planet and depart Earth to search for her. Especially with the trail she would leave. Only a few more weeks and the pod would be completely repaired.

Her head jerked up as the back door swung open and she had to control her facial features as Yamcha strolled in. She’d thought— Mrs. Briefs had obviously thought the same, for she quickly turned back to her cooking, sniffling softly.

“Hey, Bulma.” He smiled at her, eyes shouting out their concern for her.

She smiled back convincingly. “Hey, Yamcha. Let me eat dinner and then we’ll go train.”

He nodded and sat down across from her, offering his hand over the table. She laid her hand in his and he squeezed it comfortingly, smiling at her again. “So, ship’s almost repaired?

“Two more weeks and it’ll be safe to cruise the galaxy again.”

“Where will you go?”

Bulma looked to the side and shrugged. “I hadn’t really thought about it. I suppose I could try quadrant Q. They supposedly have warriors there that might help me.” She didn’t sound too convinced of that. If one of her own wouldn’t help, why should anyone else?

Yamcha sighed. “Listen, I know this sounds crazy and you’re probably going to refuse me, but I’d like to go with you.”

Bulma gaped at Yamcha and then a genuine smile lit her face. She and Yamcha had gotten close in the past years. He was there for her, never demanding more than she gave him. Sometimes she wished he would demand more, especially since he seemed to want more. She wouldn’t have been able to give it to him. She couldn’t imagine them as more than friends, but he could show a little daring. “This is my fight, Yamcha. You know that.”

Yamcha shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t take no as an answer. You shouldn’t be alone.”

Bulma cynically reflected that this was the case right now. Except for Saryl. She would get Saryl back. “I won’t be alone. I’m going to go recruit allies.”

Yamcha squared his shoulders. “Then count me as an ally.”

Bulma sighed. It seemed as if she’d have to leave the planet without telling anyone. “Okay. But if you get your butt kicked, don’t come whining to me.”

Yamcha grinned. “It won’t be me who’s getting whooped.”

Bulma chuckled, her attention on Yamcha wavering as a huge plate-full of food was set under her nose. Yamcha let go of her hand with a laugh as she eagerly dug into the food, emptying it in record time without a mess and handing it back for seconds, which were promptly given.

“Everyone’s meeting at Kame House this afternoon for a reunion. Will you go with me?”

Bulma paused in her eating to glance at Yamcha. She didn’t want to lead him on, but the look on his face was so pleading and hopeful at the same time that she merely nodded and went back to her food. Except for the sparring matches with Krillin and Goku, and occasional news from Yamcha, she hadn’t seen any of the Z gang. She wondered how much Gohan had grown and if Piccolo still insisted he was going to kill Goku.

After the reunion, she would come back and work on the spaceship, get things packed up. At least, the little that she had to pack.

After finishing her sixth course and deciding that was a good enough snack, she and Yamcha took off to her pod.

Yamcha stole occasional glances at Bulma out of the corner of his eyes as they flew. He was seriously worried about the Saiyan. When she had first arrived, she had seemed buoyant with energy. A positive-ness, that attracted him immediately. It was amazing that, despite the fact that her people were gone and the Crown Prince of them enslaved, she managed to keep up a hopeful attitude, a certainty that in the end, justice would be served.

Now, looking at her pallid face and the dark circles under her eyes. Seeing the way she looked at the world, as if there were no colors in it. Noticing the way she looked at him as he walked into the room with a hopeful expression, becoming once again depressed as she recognized him. He had to admit that he didn’t like her this way, even if it had brought them closer. He scowled mentally as he also admitted that it was not just Nappa’s death that had changed her.

They landed and immediately, with no words shared, began fighting. Yamcha noted the not-quite-there look to Bulma’s face and knew she was on autopilot. He frowned and attacked her with renewed vigor. She ignored his vicious assault until he managed to score a hit. He jumped back in part shock as her face twisted into rage and hatred. As if she didn’t even see Yamcha but some other opponent, Bulma’s hook crunched into Yamcha’s midsection. Such was his shock the blow went unhindered. He let out a gasp of pain and surprise as he hurtled backwards, plowing a furrow in the dirt as deep as he was wide.

He winced as he rose; holding his cracked ribs, but did not berate her for the excessive force. She wished he would have. At least in her anger she wouldn’t be constantly aware of the heavy silence pressing down on her.

In her dampened state of awareness, Yamcha actually felt the ki before Bulma and held up a hand as he looked at the sky in anticipation. Bulma frowned but followed his lead, nodding as she recognized Goku’s ki.

He touched down between them and grinned. “Hey, guys!”

Bulma rolled her eyes when Yamcha just smiled back and returned his own greeting. “You’re interrupting a fight, Goku.”

Goku grinned sheepishly. “Oh, jeez. Sorry. I just wanted to ask if I could use the gravity room, Bulma.”

Bulma growled in aggravation. Every time he wanted to use the thing he came to ask her. “Of course you can use it, Goku! You don’t have to ask permission. That’s what Dr. Briefs made it for!”

Goku blinked. “Um, sorry, Bulma. Really. I was just trying to be polite. Chichi is always telling me I need to be more polite. I just thought I’d practice.”

Bulma sighed. Goku’s pure naïveté and frank nature made being angry with him not only impossible but pointless. “Chichi’s right. How are she and Gohan?” Bulma decided to emulate Goku’s example. There was no harm in it, after all.

Goku gave the ground a huge grin and put a hand behind his head. “They’re great! Last I left them at Kame House, Chichi was making Gohan study. That’s why he’s not with me. Chichi wants him to be a scholar. And while he does want to fight, I don’t think he minds learning either.” he shrugged. “Whatever makes him happy.”

Bulma blinked a couple times herself. What she wouldn’t have given to hear those words from her own father. She was almost ashamed at her attitude towards Goku. Almost. “Well, I suppose you’ll want to go train now. Yamcha and I have to finish up his training as well.” She glanced at the warrior, who was listening attentively but not joining in the conversation.

Goku looked at Yamcha at the mention of his name. “Wow, Yamcha, you’ve really improved. That blow would’ve had you out of action before you started fighting with Bulma.”

Yamcha half-frowned, not liking the insults to his fighting ability, yet knowing it was the only compliments he was likely to receive. “Thanks.”

Goku grinned and turned back to Bulma. “Well, I’m off—” He stopped suddenly and his brow furrowed as he looked off to his left. “Bulma, where’s Vegeta?”

Bulma frowned. “How should I know? I haven’t seen him since he took off—”

Goku interrupted her. “Then what are all those ki’s? Or whose are all those ki’s?” His face was set as serious as Yamcha and Bulma had ever seen it.

Both extended their senses in the general direction that Goku was. Yamcha’s eyes widened. “They’re huge!”

Bulma’s eyes also widened, but more in recognition than anything else. “There are six.”

Goku looked at Bulma, expression still set. “Five are heading for Kame House. The biggest is coming here.” He looked worriedly at Bulma’s suddenly pale visage. “Bulma? What is it?”

It was the sixth one that she was concentrating on. It had been years since she’d felt it. Years of hoping and striving with the promise that she would feel it again.

Yamcha looked at Bulma and was surprised at her shaken appearance. “Bulma?”

She looked over at Goku and Yamcha, as if she’d forgotten they were there. All three’s heads whipped back up as the pod shot down and smacked into the earth, making that crater that Yamcha was starting to associate with pain and death.

The pod slid open with a hiss, air escaping in a white cloud that briefly obscured the opening. A tall, muscular man stepped lightly out of the quickly clearing concealment and grinned up at the trio. A brown tail snapped out, flicking the air before wrapping back around his waist. He looked at the group intently, focusing lastly on Bulma. Blue eyes met blue.

“Hello, sister.” NEXT