Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Dimensions of You ❯ Chapter 15 ( Chapter 15 )

Goku smiled as he talked through the microphone set in the Gravity Room-turned-space pod. “So, you guys know what we’re going to do?”

Krillin’s nervous voice sounded back from his own Ginyu pod. “Well, yeah, but I don’t mind if you go over it again.”

Goku chuckled and heard his son in the last pod join him. All three space-pods were just entering Namek’s atmosphere and all were in awe of the planet that looked like an emerald hanging in the starry black sky. “Okay, we all feel that huge power, right?”

Krillin and Gohan’s voices both echoed back an affirmation. Both were just a little tremulous and Goku kept his own voice calm and steady. He was quite sure that he was more powerful than that power on Namek.

“Well, that power will only feel my power while you two make your own ki’s as low as possible. I’ll take on this power and you two can sneak off and get the dragonballs.”

Krillin’s voice came back, a little static along with it telling that he was too close to the mike. “Now, you’re sure there are dragonballs here, right?”

Goku, in a rare moment of logic, in which everyone had to have done a classic face vault, reminded them of a few points. “Those Ginyu Force guys said that Piccolo was a Namek right? So, since Kami, his counterpart, made the dragonballs and Kami was also a Namek, it stands to reason that there are Nameks on Namek and that there’s a set of dragonballs here!” He beamed, though neither of the other two could see it.

There was a long pause from the other end. “Goku, are you sure you’re feeling alright? Is that blonde hair affecting your brain in any way?”

Goku scratched his head, which he had kept blonde because he still thought the whole color change without the use of dye was ‘nifty’. “No. I don’t think so. I don’t feel different. Except that I really want to fight this person. They seem really strong!”

Goku assumed the others either couldn’t find a response to that or agreed with him as a short silence ensued.

Gohan’s voice piped up then. “Dad, Vegeta’s here right?”

Goku nodded, realized they couldn’t see the motion, and spoke. “Yep. He really likes Bulma, though he’ll never say it. He’ll get her and we’ll get the dragonballs and wish back Piccolo and go back to Earth and wish back everyone else. Cool, huh?”

Gohan’s voice eagerly answered back. “Oh yeah! I’ll get to see mom again, and Piccolo, too!”

Goku’s smile held a touch of wistfulness. Gohan had not seen Chichi or Piccolo’s bodies; he had been told the plainest of truths to keep from hurting the boy. He was coming along because he had adamantly insisted on being there when Piccolo was brought back. Over the years, he and his mentor had grown quite close. In fact, Chichi’s flying rage at Piccolo’s death had not surprised Goku in the least. Hurting Piccolo had been like hurting her son. No one did that and lived long in Chichi’s book.

The panel in front of him beeped optimistically and Goku’s smile lost its sad edge. “Okay, guys! Get ready! Here we go!”

With answering cries from his two companions, the pods hurtled toward Namek. *   *   *

Frieza’s tail whipped out and wrapped securely around the soldier-turned-messenger boy. “What did you say?” The words, ground out from between gritted fangs, had the man before him cowering.

The alien had to remind himself of the promised worse death at the other’s hands. “He said to ‘tell your Master Frieza that he now has a price on his head. Tell him there is an assassin here who will make sure he gets his money worth on his corpse. Tell him not to bother searching for my ki; he won’t feel it until it’s too late. And tell him Princess Bulma is about to go from missing to found, but not by him’.” All of this was stated verbatim in a monotone voice that trembled on the parts where it mentioned ‘head’ and ‘corpse’.

The lack of emotion in the voice did not stop the dull crack as Frieza’s tail gave a spastic jerk around the alien’s neck, ending his life much quicker than Frieza would’ve liked.

Frieza took a deep breath, frowning at the body that was evidence of his loss of control. “So, someone on Namek wants to play, hm?” He tilted his head to one side and turned in a full circle in his chair, scouter scanning the area. He picked up Zarbon, Ginyu, Saryl, and a few other scattered power sources that were a bit higher than the rest, finally coming to a rest when he noticed two ki’s, soldiers, flying toward him. As the man’s words had said, he did not sense any powers he couldn’t account for.

Both aliens spared a glance at the sprawled body of one of their own with trepidation as they approached the seemingly angry Frieza. The spokesman, really wishing he hadn’t been picked to do so, reported what he had seen. “Lord Frieza, two more were found dead very close to your own position, sire. Three men were supposed to be with that group, so one is missing. There was no indication of a struggle with the two dead, but the missing man looked to have fired his entire clip. Only one shot hit.” He studied the man who was dead. “Sire, that—” he pointed at the corpse with no further elaboration. “looks like the missing one.”

Frieza nodded. “Yes, this makes sense…. There was no sign of what exactly killed these men? No apparent wound from this one shot?”

The man shook his head. “There was blood, sire, but it stopped almost immediately, no trail whatsoever. The men were—tossed, both bodies were broken.”

Frieza ground his teeth together, the noise making both soldiers flinch and give each other nervous glances. “I have just received word that this ‘ghost’ wants me as a trophy. Apparently he thinks he can take me down as easily as he takes down you foot-soldiers.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “Continue your search for this ‘ghost’. Inform my army that anyone who brings me his head will find themselves nicely rewarded. I will await the rest of the Ginyu Force here. If my power level rises in any way, stay where you are. If he does decide to come for me, I will take care of this small nuisance myself without any interference.”

Both soldiers immediately went to attention, saluting their lord and master with a ‘yes, sire’. Frieza nodded coldly, as coldly as his name indicated he would do, as a way of dismissal. He did not watch the two leave, rather turned his pink eyes to the sky, watching as three pods, two obviously Ginyu and one not, hurtled to where the other three already lay.

“Now what is this?” *   *   *

“…brought him back here. He was the one I sensed, but he is not the one causing the great disturbances as you fear. I am in no danger from this one.”

Vegeta groaned and tried to lever himself up on his elbows to prove this deep, rumbling voice wrong but could only open his eyes and stare up at a domed, white ceiling, narrowing them to slits as he tried to get his bearings. He heard movement to his right and turned his head toward it, wincing at a slight headache, to watch a small, green—well, it looked like a smaller and younger version of Piccolo, skitter away from him. He was laid out on a cool floor in some kind of house. He could faintly feel two other power sources near his feet, to the left slightly.

“He’s awake. Perhaps you could help him rise, Nail?”

Vegeta growled as another of these green—things approached his line of sight, face set as serious as Piccolo’s had ever been. There were slight differences in the facial features and stance, but this was obviously a relative of the green bean’s. It figured that Piccolo would be an alien.

He growled louder as this particular alien reached down to grab him up, twisting so that the hand missed his shoulder and pushing himself quickly to a sitting position with a grunt of fading pain. The alien drew back, seemingly taking a defensive stance in front of another of the beings. Vegeta took a long time in studying this being, as he seemed to be some kind of huge blob barely holding himself onto an equally large and elaborate chair.

Vegeta’s gaze traveled from the bloated and wrinkled form of the Namek on the bone-like chair to his ankle, which no longer throbbed as it had been. Still keeping one gaze on the three Namekians around him, he reached down and carefully prodded the joint, finding that the swollenness had not only gone down, but the ankle was completely healed. His black eyes snapped back up to the three who had remained silent during his inspection, although the smaller one, perhaps a child, was sidling toward the elderly one with wide eyes.

Carefully, still keeping his attention mostly centered on the younger, more fighter-like one, Vegeta inspected his entire body, finding that all his wounds seemed to have been healed. Did they have those beans here; the one Kakarott had used?

The only one who looked comfortable with his presence was the old one, and it was he that spoke up. “Dende here,” he indicated the child with a gnarled hand, “healed you. Who are you? Why are you here? I sense a great disturbance among my people. They are being hurt.”

Vegeta brought his knees up, laying his arms over them as if he was just getting comfortable. In reality, he was setting himself up to spring either toward or away from the Namek who had the air of a warrior. He was looking at Vegeta with a distinctly distrustful gaze. One who does not trust is quicker to attack an unknown before he understands anything about them.

He thought about the questions, how much to actually tell them. Telling him he had been healed by them had not seemed a way to get information, a bribe, by the elder one’s speech, merely a truth told. Vegeta had a good judge of this one’s character already by facial expressions and body postures. He nodded and started on the easiest questions.

“I do not know about these disturbances among your people. I myself have just come to retrieve something taken. I have not met any of your people beyond you three. Those I have met belong to the army of an alien named Frieza.”

The warrior Namek’s eyes narrowed further at the unelaborated answer and he opened his mouth to be stalled by an upraised hand from the elder one. He was definitely leader here. “I suppose it is rude of us, as hosts, not to introduce ourselves. I am the Great Elder of my people, Guru. The warrior beside me is named Nail, and the little one is Dende, a healer. We are Namekians. We do not know of this Frieza either, but if he is the power I sense that holds so much evil, then he is probably the cause of the killings of my people.”

The little one turned wide, aghast eyes to the Elder. “No! They aren’t dead! They can’t be! Who would be so…cruel as to kill those who have done nothing to them?” Dende turned to Vegeta, eyes narrowing almost spitefully. “He has killed others. I can smell the evil on him.” He turned pleading eyes to the Elder. “Why did you make me heal him, Elder? He’s evil!”

The Elder laid a calming hand on Dende’s head and raised the other to placate the human. Vegeta however, needed no soothing. All the young one had said was true after all.

“You saw what they did to your village, Dende. Those men were not good men. They are after something. If they get it, I fear much more evil than this one man possesses will be unleashed”

He pointed to Vegeta, still looking down at Dende. “This man takes the same pleasure in the kill they do, but there is a difference. You do not understand now, Dende, for you have a child’s viewpoint of good and evil. You have yet to learn that darkness cannot be dark without some light, for it is the light that casts the shadows. And without darkness, how would we even know what light looked like?”

He chuckled. “But I speak above you, young one.” He turned to Vegeta, wrinkled, almost closed eyes meeting vibrant, dark ones.

Vegeta had no idea what the man was talking about, but he had a feeling the last sentence was meant for him too. He shifted, slowly moving himself into an upright position, trying to act as casual as possible about it. Nail looked as if he would attack if he so much as sneezed, and Vegeta didn’t have time for a fight with natives.

“As much as I am intrigued by all this mystic talk, I still have a job to do.” His black eyes narrowed. “You have healed me. You expect something in return.” It was not a question.

The Elder chuckled. “On your world it may be so, but here we freely give without asking.”

Guru tilted his head to one side. “I will not live much longer.” Gasps from the little one and the Namek warrior told Vegeta this was not a time looked forward to. “I would like to know my people live on. Will you take Dende with you? Will you protect my son?”

Vegeta blinked in surprise, the request unexpected, and then sneered. “I am not a babysitter. Besides, the child has already professed a dislike for me. I have enough enemies.”

Guru gave a smile that said he knew much more than Vegeta. Vegeta, of course, did not like that smile. “Of course. I understand completely. You said that you were looking for something taken….

Dende merely misunderstands. He will not be your enemy. However, if you wish it, I can offer you something in return; something that will help you in your search, for you are right in that you have many enemies, Prince.”

Vegeta visibly flinched. “How did you know that name?” His feet shifted back slightly, and Nail too shifted.

Guru raised a gnarled hand, smile still in place, although neither man relaxed. “Is it not who you are? It does not matter how I know. You must go find what you came seeking. All I ask is that you take my son. I fear many more will die before this day is through. I would rather I knew that one, at least, lived. As I said, I have something quite valuable to give you in return.”

Vegeta paused, head moved to one side to reflect on not only this Namek’s words, but also his seeming knowledge. There was no way he could’ve known all he knew, most especially the name. However, there seemed no threat to the man, to the warrior beside him maybe, but Nail was obviously a bodyguard. “What is this thing you would give me?”

Guru nodded his head, as if Vegeta had already accepted the offer. “Something you will need now and after you return to where you came from. Power.”

Vegeta shifted again, this time toward the Elder. Nail stiffened and moved to stand in front of his Elder, but the old one’s voice spoke up from behind him in a commanding manner. “No. Leave us. I will not be harmed. You too, Dende. Wait outside.”

Nail straightened and gave his charge a solemn bow, moving past Vegeta with a backward glance. As his serious gaze met Vegeta’s, he smirked, as if to belie the Elder’s words. Nail merely glowered at him, distrustful of this man but trusting in his father. Dende followed after but did not look back.

Once they were alone, Guru again turned his full attention to Vegeta, who was glaring shrewdly at him. “Why give me power?  You know that I kill. I will just use this power to kill more.”

Guru nodded. “Yes, that is true. But you do not see the balance as I see it. Even Dende can only see the good and evil, shifting themselves into place to correct the balance that is rapidly becoming one-sided. Most forget the fulcrums. They are the ones in the middle, who can seemingly go in either direction. It is these that create the true balance, for they are the most numerous. The evil and good on either side merely pull these fulcrums toward or away from them.

“Sometimes, the fulcrums themselves become good or evil, wrecking the whole of the balance if they choose wrong.”

He chuckled, amused by his own thoughts. “Even the fulcrums need balance. You have found your balance, Prince, though you do not realize it. You will help not in the titanic struggle on this planet, but another one, one just as important. You will have to choose which side you will become. Hopefully, you will use your balance to choose. Otherwise, I do not see much hope in your future.”

Vegeta stared up at the Namek and blinked. He was close enough to touch the Elder and he hadn’t even realized he had stepped this close to him. He certainly hadn’t meant to. He scowled slightly, wanting to step back. However, it seemed everyone these days could merely hold him still with their eyes. “What are you talking about? What do you mean by ‘fulcrum’? What is this ‘balance’? And what struggle?”

The Namek shook his head, eyes lowered. He raised them again and Vegeta was struck by how weighed-down the other seemed, how tired in mind and body. It was as if he could see much, but do nothing about it. “Will you take my son with you, Prince? Will you give me your word that he will remain unharmed and looked after if all does not go well for Namek? He is a healer and can aid you in more ways than one. He may seem but a child, but seeing his whole village murdered before his very eyes has changed him. I will give you enough power to best your enemies, most especially the one who made it necessary for Dende to heal you.”

Vegeta gritted his teeth. It was slightly frustrating that this Namek seemed to know so much and say so little. There was a moment of silence as Vegeta broke contact with the Namek’s searching gaze.

He had no choice in the matter it seemed. If this Namek saw things going so badly, he would need all the power he could get. This was a test of strength. He nodded shortly. “I agree, but if the kid does something foolish or stupid I won’t save him. I don’t make it a rule to save people from themselves. Now hurry up and give me this power.”

Guru chuckled and Vegeta tensed, leaning back slightly, as the elderly Namek’s hand lowered to his brow with a coolness Vegeta found surprising. “You’ll do.”

Vegeta quirked a brow and was about to ask what those words; reminiscent of Dr. Briefs’ words so long ago; meant when both his brows rose to meet his widow’s peak. A sudden blue aura sheathed him in a column of light from his feet up in a rush of power that made him feel like he should be flung upwards in its force.

Vegeta caught his breath as the light faded and he felt—a lightness surround him, as if he could take one giant leap and go from where he was straight back to Earth. The hand was removed from his forehead and Vegeta flexed his hands, watching in a revered awe as the power leapt from his fingertips, crackling like lightning, easier than ever to call forth; a well of power that he had yet to test the limits of. He would certainly enjoy doing that.

Remembering who he was before, he narrowed his eyes and took a step back, positioning himself closer to the door. Guru merely nodded, smiling. “Take care you do not take more stock in your new power than is safe, Prince. Arrogance can be your downfall, as you well know.”

Vegeta snorted, folding his arms across his chest. “Mind you, I am not ungrateful for the—” He brought both his hands up, alighting a small ball of ki on one of his fingers in his right hand and playing it over each of the fingers with a simple twist of his hand, tossing his hand to transfer the ball to his left hand and repeating the motion with it before extinguishing the ball by closing the hand. “—power. But your words are known, as you have said. I will be taking my leave now…with the child.” His lips curled at the thought of having to drag the puny, green thing along who seemed to instinctively dislike him.

Guru reached behind him slightly. “I have one more thing for you. It, like your healing, is free.”

Vegeta stared in curiosity at the golden orb with one orange star in its center that the old Namek held out to him. “What is it?” The ball was easily as wide in diameter as Vegeta was wide in girth.

The Great Elder smiled once again. “It is called a dragonball. This is what Frieza’s army searches for. Keep it from them.

“I hope that one day you will understand some of what was said here. You shut out what you do not understand, Prince, and that is dangerous. Some of the most precious things in this life cannot be understood.”

Vegeta tilted his head to one side, considering the Namek’s words as he took the orb. “Perhaps.”

With that one word hanging in the air between them, Vegeta turned and strode out the door, taking to the air immediately upon exiting. He halted and turned to look first at Nail, who merely nodded his head slightly and retook his place inside, then at Dende, who was shifting nervously on both his feet, uncertainty clearly written on his face. “Let’s go, boy. I won’t wait for you.”

Dende almost opened his mouth to point out that Vegeta was, in fact, waiting for him, but snapped it shut again. The change in Vegeta’s power was marked; though Vegeta realized he was showing it off and dampened it quickly; and Dende did not wish to antagonize the man who his father had trusted.

The Namekian boy nodded sharply and rose into the air, following the human and his dragonball back to where Vegeta could sense Zarbon was. This time, the outcome of their fight would be quite different. *   *   *

Looking around, Bulma tried to find out where exactly she was in relation to Frieza’s ship. Whoever Frieza sent out after Saryl would be coming from that direction and she wanted to make sure she was ahead of them, even though the fact that she couldn’t fly made that all but impossible.

She had tried to fly. She had felt as if the very air around her were crushing her. Unfortunately she didn’t have time to inspect this phenomenon.

Her blue eyes narrowed slightly. The ship was behind her and slightly to her right. Saryl was…. She closed her eyes and concentrated, feeling her brother’s hauntingly familiar ki spring into her mind with all the gentleness of a knife in the breast. She opened her eyes and took in a shaky breath.

Gods, he was strong, stronger than she remembered because he had been in the front lines of Frieza’s army for over twelve years. He was ahead of her, just to her left. She was acutely glad that this ‘reflector’ didn’t hinder her ability to sense ki.

Her head swiveled around as she picked up another ki behind her. It was definitely a strong one, feeling closer to the thirty thousand range. It was gone as suddenly as it had appeared and Bulma frowned, her brow furrowing as she crept halfway out of the shadows, as if that tiny move forward would make it reappear. It had felt so familiar….

Cursing in her native tongue, Bulma turned back around, ducking into shadows once again as she felt a hated and very familiar ki…Ginyu.

Ginyu landed not far from where Bulma hid, head turning this way and that on the ground. Holding her breath, she hoped the man wouldn’t notice her. She didn’t have time to stop, and fight and this collar would seriously debilitate any battle she went into right now. She needed to figure out how to get the thing off, but she hardly had the tools to do so and the thing itself was seamless.

Ginyu paused, searching for what had caught his eyes. He finally leaning down and carefully picked up the small tracking device that had been pilfered from Radditz’s body and must have slipped from Bulma’s clothing. He brought the object up to his nose and sniffed in the light scent that was the Princess’s.

Ginyu straightened, eyes scanning every bit of land around him. He frowned, as he spied nothing that even resembled the missing Saiyan Princess. If he didn’t find her, Frieza wouldn’t just kill him. He’d make sure he wanted death. Begged for it, and then deny it to him, letting him live out an existence that would be a dishonor to any warrior, that of not being able to fight.

Bulma tensed as Ginyu, holding something small with a blinking red light in his hands, carefully gazed at everything around him. His eyes slid right across where she was hiding, but she couldn’t count on such inattention next time his eyes passed her shadow. She wasn’t as good at this at Vegeta, who had probably had years to perfect the technique. She needed to ambush and give herself enough time to come up with some kind of plan.

Ginyu’s head tilted to one side, as his eyes again scanned the area. It was better to be safe than sorry after all. No need to do a job halfway only to go right over the place Princess Bulma had been hid—

Bulma laughed as Ginyu’s face made a deep furrow in the ground. One of the things she found she liked about this collar was that she was basically invisible to all ki sensing. It made an attack like the one she had just dealt Ginyu especially productive.

Ginyu stumbled up, using a hand to wipe away a thin trail of blood that was leaking from his now torn lip and turning to see who had attacked him. The only thing he managed to see was an elbow coming in at his face.

He managed to duck that, but couldn’t do anything when the unseen assailant switched tactics, grabbing his horns and tossing him right over their head. Ginyu landed with a heavy thud into the ground.

Bulma stood back, waiting until Ginyu had almost righted himself again before launching herself forward with a front snap kick at the ready. The recovery had been a ruse though, as Ginyu rose up all the way, catching the leg coming for his chin and tossing the person over much in the same way they had done to him.

Princess Bulma; he could now see it was her; caught herself, landing crouched low with one leg extended for balance. She smirked. “So, dear Ginyu, we meet again.”

Ginyu chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “Yes, we do. Unfortunately, it seems that this time you are at a decided disadvantage. No ki and all.”

Bulma frowned, well aware of that little bit of information. Something was tickling the back of her mind; a memory. “I won’t need ki to defeat you, Ginyu. I think I can do with my bare hands.”

Ginyu laughed. “Sure. You keep telling yourself that until I have you brought before Lord Frieza. He’s not in a good mood. I don’t see much mercy for King Saryl in his hands. Let’s see…Zarbon should be to him by now. They should be heading back as I speak. Now, why don’t we join them, eh? I’d hate to have to maim such a pretty little doll like you.” As he spoke, he moved toward Bulma, smirk lighting his face evilly.

Bulma snorted. “You think I’m going to turn over and give up? Zarbon isn’t even halfway there and you know it. You’re bluffing. I think if I destroy you and head toward Saryl, I’ll be there before Zarbon.” She smirked. “Frieza won’t like that, will he?”

Ginyu shifted down almost to Bulma’s height of stance; smirk widening at the prospect of once again beating the Princess. “Well, we’ll just have to not disappoint him. Sorry, baby, but you’re coming with me.”

Bulma suddenly grinned, pieces of a puzzle clicking into place in her head. She loved it when the bad guys defeated themselves. “Oh, I think not.”

Ginyu smiled—until the Princess used her superior speed to go right around the huge, purple man. “Have you heard of the true power of a Saiyan, Ginyu?”

Ginyu whirled around and cursed. He could hear her, but the Princess seemed to have vanished. He heard her laughter and growled low in his throat as his eyes scanned the land, finally probing the shadows. He caught a flash of white and laughed in discovery, launching himself toward the caught Princess.

Bulma smirked to herself as she threw up the glowing ball of white into the sky, raising her fist toward it and clenching it closed as Ginyu hurtled toward her. “Burst and mix!”

Ginyu stopped in shock, as the ball of light above him suddenly seemed to explode, spilling light everywhere. Ginyu covered his eyes, trying to see the light in order to ascertain if it was some new attack.

He brought his head back down as the light laughter that had been coming from Bulma’s throat changed, becoming deeper and finally shifting to an unintelligible growl. Ginyu’s eyes widened, as Bulma seemed to—throb, growing with each and every pulse. Fur sprouted everywhere; blue fur; mouth widening and pushing out to form a muzzle filled with teeth that seemed to be slavering down at Ginyu, who looked none-too-comfortable under this—beast’s shadow.

Bulma threw her head up and screamed, the sound a grating wound in the still, sunny sky. The collar around her neck tightened painfully as she grew, and she could feel the thing burning, trying to suck the power she was gaining right from her. The Oozaru state however, was natural, not at all reliant on ki but on the innate energy any Saiyan who had a tail possessed.

When the collar suddenly flashed a hot orange and fell from the Princess’s neck to clatter not an inch from Ginyu’s foot, he started to worry. He raised widened eyes up at the giant, monkey-like apparition that towered over him, taking two steps back, brain wracking for a solution to this—big problem.

Bulma laughed, her voice shaking the rocks under Ginyu’s boot. “Well, much as I’d like to stay and toy with you, Ginyu, I have a certain green-haired, blue-skinned man to catch up to. See you in the next life.”

With no more words, and not a minute spared for Ginyu to beg for his life, Bulma lifted up her boot and settled it harshly right down on Ginyu, grinding the now broken body beneath her with squishing sounds that were quite pleasing. She’d almost forgotten the long-lost feeling of killing something beneath one.

She looked around, wondering if she should continue her trek in this state or go back to normal form. She felt too conspicuous in this form however, and she’d much prefer talking to her brother and not being Oozaru.

With her decision made, she powered down, going back to her natural blue-haired, blue-eyed Saiyan state. She blinked, her brow furrowing, as she stared at her hands. They were normal, but there seemed to be more than one of them weaving in her vision. She looked up at the horizon that was making the same sickening motions before letting out a soft sigh and crumpling to the ground, out cold before she hit the ground. NEXT