Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Dominion ❯ Chapter 13

Dominion

Author: Xero Sky

Date: July/August/September/October 2002

Pairings: Vejiita X Bardock, Vejiita X Kakkarot, for now.

Warnings: Lemon, lime, language, violence, and ANGST. Maybe all at once! AU, therefore some OOC is probably inevitable. References to consensual incest between adult siblings.

Notes:

*....* indicates italics. /..../ indicates telepathic speech

Disclaimer: All characters are property of their respective copyright owners. I intend no profit from this work of fiction.

Chapter 13

It was never dark anymore. Even with her eyes closed, she could see. She wished she was blind, or dead. Green darkness, green light, blue, black, flashing sunlight, blood, skin, teeth, the shriek of ki burning ozone as it came closer, ever close, hitting her dead on.... All of these things kept cycling back and forth in her mind, flashes of something or nothing, the real and the imagined, her reality or someone else*s.

She had made a mistake, and it was altogether too late to do anything about it now.

She*d never spent more than an hour in a tank before. She knew she*d been inside for a long, long time, far longer than she should have been.

There were those who never came out of the tanks. They couldn*t live without the all-encompassing, constant repair of their bodies, just keeping them on the edge of life. It didn*t happen often, but she*d seen it before. They were always kept for some time, a matter of days, and then pulled out of the tank and allowed to die in the clean air. Under the sun, if possible.

She hadn*t wanted to die like that. So she*d used everything she*d had to reach out, out of herself and out of the tank, just to talk to someone, to tell them she was here. It shouldn*t have been too hard; she was linked with Nappa anyway. She didn't understand why it didn't work.

It was so hard to keep herself awake, much less focused. There had to be someone out there. Somewhere.

With another sick shove, she narrowed her awareness, looking for someone. Nappa should be there.

With a sudden shock, she saw him. Nappa was there! She saw his face as clearly as she'd ever seen anything in her life, the features distorted with shock and pain. Then it was gone.

Panic. Something like panic. She pushed outwards with all her senses, trying to find him. Was that a real image? Was any of this true? There was no way to know, not until she found someone, something that she could hold onto.

Confused and alarmed, she pushed farther and farther out, searching for the threat.

***************

Bardock groaned and sat up, holding his head. His entire body hurt, and he was ferociously hungry in between bouts of nausea. Gods. There was a huge, booming noise which he, as a victim of many hangovers, at first thought was in his head. Gradually, he became aware that the sound was external, and that the stone flooring underneath him vibrated lightly with each repetition. The deep, dank smell of the ocean filled his nose, but with the exception of a faint trace of Kakkarot, there was no scent of anything living. As his eyes adapted to the gray light, he saw that he was in an oddly shaped room, like a wedge cut from a circle. The scent of perpetual damp was everywhere, and was no surprise, given that the building seemed built from neatly fitted stone blocks. A quick scan told him that he wasn*t much injured, in truth, and he got up and carefully walked to the door.

He realized, after a moment, that Kakkarot had breached his armor. A pattern of cracks radiated from the impact point on his chest plate. Little shithead. He had to admit that was a fine strike, though.

He appeared to be in a tower. Outside the room, he found himself on a circular landing, with an old-fashioned set of spiral stairs in the center. There appeared to be only one room on this level, and there were no windows. The light, such as it was, came from above, spilling down the stairway. The slow, irregular booming was louder here. Bardock looked down the spiraling steps into darkness, and up into the light. With a shrug, he went upstairs. He found himself in a smaller chamber, without any rooms. To one side a ladder led upwards. The light was coming from there. With another shrug, he climbed up and blinked in surprise.

It was a lighthouse. The chamber at the top was enclosed with clear alloy windows, streaked with rain, and a rotating shaft pierced the roof. From the way the strong light constantly shifted, he guessed that the actual lamp was on top of the roof, turning on the shaft. There was no sign of anything living, nor any scent beyond Kakkarot's and his own. The lighthouse was completely automated.

He knew what lighthouses were, but he'd never seen one before. The days of saiyajin seafaring were largely in the past, replaced by air transports which made cargo shipment a matter of a few hours. Not all saiyajins could fly personally, especially not across the width of an ocean, but no one seriously considered taking ship. Still, someone must be doing it, or this equipment wouldn't have been oiled recently, as his nose clearly indicated.

All of this left unanswered the basic question: where was he? There was a door leading out to a railed platform encircling the top of the tower. He pushed it open and was startled when the wind slammed it back into him. With a snarl, he shoved his way outside.

He was nowhere. The tower was built on rock that only the deepest troughs between the waves uncovered. There was no land in sight in any direction, and, when he shook off his amazement at the sight before him, no ki anywhere around that he could sense. He found his gaze drawn back to the ocean around him, and to the storm-whipped waves raging past, each one of which slammed into the tower with an impact that made the stones shiver. He was over a hundred feet in the air, yet spray from the breaking waves was tossed into his face by the wind which threatened to pry him loose from his perch.

He must be at the end of a line of shoals, or a series of mostly underwater islands. He wondered where on the map that would put him, but he couldn't recall anything. Without a scouter and its automatic mapping, he didn't know where he was.

He could guess why he was here, though. Kakkarot had left him someplace where he could sleep until he woke up, undisturbed by either locals or local wildlife. The tower was old and shivering under the waves, but he was certain that it would stand up to this storm as it had so many in the past. His son had put him here to keep him safe.

He might not know where he was, but he did know one thing perfectly well: he was going to find Kakkarot and kick his ass from here to the base of Kula*s throne.

Except that he probably couldn't, could he?

The dream came back to him. His son, ascended, killing Vejiita.

Everyone knew what happened when a saiyajin overcame death. The power increase could be enormous. Kakkarot had been powerful before. Years of life on the front lines had made him cunning and fierce and strong. Could he really have gained enough power to challenge Vejiita, much less kill him?

Bardock couldn't answer that question. He hadn*t had a scouter on when Kakkarot had kidnapped him, and he didn*t have one now. The whelp felt strong...but that strong? It was so hard to tell. Even Vejiita didn*t feel as strong normally as he was when he ascended.

None of his earlier visions had come true, but only because of his intervention. Could he prevent this one from happening as well?

He shook his head, trying to focus his thoughts. He had a parent bond with Kakkarot; he would find out where the brat was, whether said brat liked it or not.

He looked up at the slowly clearing sky, where patches of night were streaked with falling stars. There was something about the sight that chilled him, though he could hardly think what it was. Just meteors, falling stars, space rubble, falling down on them again. Then with a cold shock it came to him. This was the third week of the third month of the third quarter. According to folklore, if the meteor shower came at this time, the lights in the sky were more than bits of rock and ice burning through the atmosphere.

It was the Fall of Souls, the time when the spirits of saiyajins killed off-world returned home. All over the planet, mostly in the countryside, but also in the cities, families that had lost loved ones off planet since the last Fall left lights burning all night, to light the dead ones home. The sophisticated scoffed at the tradition, but virtually everyone did it. He certainly had set lights out for Turles for the two Falls following his death.

The second time he hadn't meant to. He'd laughed at Radditz when he'd suggested it. But when night fell, he found himself unable to keep from setting the lights out, just as always, and saying the prayers in front of the house shrine. In quiet moments, when he woke before dawn and felt the first stirrings of life within the palace around him, he still wondered if he'd done enough.

Bardock shook his head again, growling. This was not the time for that! He resolutely closed his eyes, looking at nothing, feeling the wind claw at him and the faint spray of the waves as the tower trembled beneath him, hearing only the fading storm. His breathing slowed as he looked within, looked to the places where his children had been woven into the fabric of his being. He could have despised his children, and it wouldn't have mattered; only death could close off the bonds between family. Kakkarot couldn't hide himself.

Kakkarot… He was north, and angry…anguished. North where? Bardock's brows drew together as he blindly felt his way across the aether for his son's flaring ki.

His mouth dropped open suddenly and his eyes went wide; an observer might have thought he was screaming. He shook his head in denial, then felt again for his son.

With a roar of ki, Bardock leapt off the tower and went hurtling through the torn skies.

*****************

Vejiita finished listening to his son's careful explanation of why he tore the end of Nappa's tail off with his teeth. An assault on a Royal Guard, much less the Commander of the Royal Guard, was a matter for the king's judgment, a point of law which had been brought to Rai's attention not long after he was found. The ouji had spent the afternoon in a prison cell, with his brother prowling restlessly outside. Vejiita no Ou hadn't been in the mood for princely pranks when word had filtered up to him of what Rai had done.

Both princes stood in front of him now, their tails firmly twined around each other. Juro had declared that he would stand whatever punishment his brother suffered. They stood tall, enduring both their sister's glare and their father's cold, evaluating gaze. The silence, however, began to weigh on them.

After awhile, a bead of sweat made its way down the finely drawn features of Rai's face. He didn't really feel bad about what he'd done to Nappa, but he deeply regretted getting Juro into trouble too. His stubborn brother had sworn on his title that he would share Rai's punishment, and there was nothing for it, now, but to wait until Otousan handed it down.

Vejiita had already decided the punishment. That was simple enough. He was struck, though, by how close his sons were to each other. It was something he'd noted before, certainly, but it hadn't seemed so strong a bond before. He sighed, wondering what problems this would bring in the future. Such truly strong sibling bonds weren't unknown among saiyajins. They usually occurred between siblings of similar power levels, and the strength of the bond often only increased over time.

It was not unusual for bonded siblings to never take any other mates. That wasn't something these two would be allowed the luxury of, but Vejiita would see to it that they were allowed to stay together otherwise, if they were truly bonded. He remembered Bardock mourning his brother when Vejiita was only a boy. The images of Bardock's pain had remained strongly with him.

Now, however, Juro would not be sharing Rai's punishment, primarily because that would make it easier on the little saiyajin. As much as Juro might howl, he hadn't committed the crime. And it was a crime. There were some lines that even a saiyajin no ouji was not allowed to cross. At least not until he was big enough to cross them and not get caught, Vejiita thought, killing the grin that threatened to ruin the moment. Princelings were fairly expected to engage in miscellaneous evil acts, but this had gone too far. Rai had to learn about both the status of the Royal Guard, and the protocol of tails. Vejiita had been hard-pressed not to flinch when he'd been shown the missing crescent in Nappa's tail.

He could scent the sweat and consternation pouring from his sons, even though the small features were set hard. It wasn't defiance, but pride that was holding them still, their heads high and their eyes fixed on his feet. He, of all saiyajins, could hardly fault them for that.

"Rai no Ouji, if you were older, I would let Commander Nappa kink your tail. A dislocation would teach you a little respect, ne?"

Just like breaking Kakkarot's tail taught him respect? Excellent planning, oh mighty king.

Vejiita ignored his acid thoughts. They did him no good now.

"Instead, your pride will suffer what your body does not. For the next month, you will serve as Nappa's page. He has a Guard apprentice in this role now. You will replace him starting at dawn. All your other responsibilities are suspended until after your service is done," he said coldly.

Both of his sons went white at the humiliating thought of being a servant. Juro barely repressed a snarl, though his tail wound tightly around his brother's.

"You, Juro no Ouji, will not be sharing your brother's punishment, despite what you think. A saiyajin prince doesn't need help facing the consequences of his actions."

The miniature ouji's mouth opened and then shut as he got control of himself. His oaths and protestations were truly as nothing in the face of his father's decree. Fighting over it wouldn't accomplish anything at all. Besides which, as sharply degrading as this was, it was also nothing in comparison to the punishments he knew his father had suffered as a child.

Rai bowed deeply. "Hai, Otousan." His small voice was firm.

"You may go," Vejiita said, and both boys bowed again, then retreated from his presence. Through his parent bond, he could feel their distress, most of it at the prospect of being separated for most of their day. Maybe this lesson would sink in, then.

He turned away, the heavy white silk of his formal cape flaring behind him. He waved a hand as he went, and the audience chamber began to hemorrhage the attendants and Guards necessary for a gathering of the royal family in any public room. He found himself at the window again, staring out at the lights of the city.

How many hundreds of thousands of saiyajins lived there? It was the third largest city on the planet. With a snap of his fingers, he could know anything he wanted about them, any personal detail. He could send them to war. He could send them to the executioners.

He sighed. He didn't care. The mechanics of state kept grinding away, and he didn't care right now.

Beside him, he felt Vegita's anxious ki.

"Hai, oujo?" he said idly.

"Otousan…" she started, somewhat nervously. He could see the scowl on her face, even without turning to look. She hated sounding weak. Truly his child. "Otousan, are you alright?"

He did turn then, to meet her black eyes, so like his own. "No, I'm not, child. But I will be." He had always tried to be as honest with her as he could.

She nodded, her face serious. Somehow it made her seem even younger than she was. "Are you bond-mated, Otousan?"

Surprised, he scowled. "Why do you ask that?"

"Because you don't feel right anymore, up here," she said, touching her temple. "You feel…broken."

He eyed her, and there was a moment when his beloved heir almost looked away, but she did not. He let the silence stretch for a few moments, but she only stared back at him.

"Broken?" he asked gently.

"Hai," she said, nodding firmly. "And I remember Okaasan told me it was something like that when she, uh, bonded. Well, before."

He smiled at Vegita's hesitancy. Even after all this time, no one was sure whether it was safe to mention that his first consort had found her bond-mate two years after Vegita's birth. . Her union had placed her off-limits to him sexually, but she wasn't much of a loss there, frankly. The issue was simply that her mate was someone he personally had beaten into the ground several times before for the crime of being relentlessly annoying. He hadn't done it since they'd bonded, so he didn't really see why it was an issue.

"Hai, Vegita, I am," he said, almost smiling.

She looked at him closely, trying to read him. "Is it Bardock-san?"

"Kakkarot."

She nodded briefly, then frowned. "He was born third-class…"

Repressing both amusement at her reflexive snobbishness and annoyance at it, he said "He is my chosen."

"Then he is good enough," Vegita said. "Why isn't he here with you?"

Because he hates me.

"He needs some time to himself, brat."

Vegita snorted. "He should be with his mate and his king. Anything else is stupid."

He was unable to quite repress his smile this time. "Maybe so, oujo, maybe so," he said fondly. She was not distracted by his display of affection, however.

"Go and get him, Otousan! You being unhappy is going to make me and the oujis crazy. And they're going to be terrible enough for the next month, without each other." Her scowl was priceless.

"Forgive me, oujo, for causing you distress," Vejiita said, his eyes smiling. He bowed formally. "Perhaps a mission would ease your pain?"

The heir to the saiyajin throne looked up at her father, her eyes shining with feral delight. "Hai, Otousan! How may I serve you?"

The two of them wended their way out of the audience chamber, thoughts of Kakkarot left behind for now as he described a small rebellion that could use the oujo's attention. Even at her age, her reputation should be enough to suppress it, though she fervently hoped not. Suitably distracted, she didn't notice her father's restlessness.

Go and get him!

Radditz stepped out onto the surface of Vegetasei, breathing in the air of home for the first time in four years. No place he had ever been equaled the simple magnificence of the saiyajin homeworld. Like every saiyajin, he never truly felt at home anywhere else. He reached down and grabbed up a handful of soil, inhaling the scent. Wonderful…

Behind him, Turles was frozen, every sense flooding with the solid reality of home. The fact of being on Vegetasei again overwhelmed him for a moment. Gods, it had been so long! He pulled in great draughts of air, purging the recycled ship atmosphere from his system. Scents of flowers and rain were so thick he could drown in them. The animal smell of earth and sky and home overwhelmed him for a moment, threatening to bring tears from eyes that had long been dry and empty.

Vegetasei.

Even in death, no saiyajin was banished from it. One way or the other, he would never leave it again.

He looked up at the sky, watching the meteors burn across the sky. How fitting it was that the Fall of Souls should mask his journey home. He'd easily deceived the Sky Command, radioing a broken distress call in response to their hail, and then jettisoning his cargo of junk and supplies. He knew well enough that they'd been reported as just another downed refugee ship. How convenient it was that the Terux Majora refugees were inbound just now, when the Fall of Souls was interfering with all radar. A patrol might be sent out to search for wreckage, but he doubted he was high priority. After all, a simple scan would show no ki readings in the area.

He had suppressed his ki, a trick little known among saiyajins, and Radditz held a ki cuff in one hand, using it to mask his own ki. Sky Command would have registered two incoming saiyajin ki, a distress call, wreckage, and no ki left in the projected area of the crash. It was so damned simple.

"Are you ready, nephew?" Turles asked, coming up behind Radditz and gently lifting his hair to look at his nearly-regenerated tail. It mattered to him that the man not come home with the shame of a cropped tail.

"Hai," Radditz said, turning to look at him with an odd expression on his face. He had not shown Turles any of his former antagonism since their mind-sharing.

"Do you see him?"

Radditz reached up and tweaked the settings on his scouter, letting his eye pick items off the menus offered until it was set to his father's ki. His bond with his father was strong, and he could have found the saiyajin in any case, but not while suppressing his ki. And it was important that he find Bardock immediately, without wasting time looking for him.

Another scan showed him Kakkarot's location. He scowled. His brother's strength had improved astonishingly. How much had he suffered for such strength?

"Hai," he said.

Then he blinked and stared as Turles knelt at his feet. "I ask forgiveness, nephew, for the harm I've caused you."

It was a formal apology. Radditz could accept it or not, set penance or not, as he pleased. Family matters were often handled so, when the grievances threatened to spill into violence that might leave them all dead. He hadn't expected such a gesture now, when the two of them had settled into an uneasy alliance.

"I forgive you," he said slowly, remembering pain and blindness. "Find justice for my brother."

Turles lifted his head and stared into his nephew's dark eyes. "I will.

/…nappa…/

The big man blinked and turned his head, wondering if he'd heard something. There were no sounds other than the faint ones of the water slapping against the sides of the pool and the night birds singing in the trees around it, within his private courtyard. After a moment, he shrugged and began swimming again, turning in the seventy-seventh of a hundred laps he meant to do tonight. He had spent the day to himself, turning even the twins away, and he meant to finish it that way. His doors were closed, inside his head and out.

/……….NAppa…./

What?

He stopped and tread water in the lighted pool, wondering who was foolish enough to be brushing against his mental walls. It felt nothing like Vejiita, nor any of the other royals, none of whom he felt any need to spend time with soon. His lieutenants were under orders not to contact him unless Kula crashed through the roof, except of course unless there was word of Tsuriya.

/Tsuriya?/

/…find him….pa.../

The sending was extremely faint, and he could feel the fatigue behind it. Something like both joy and apprehension surged up in his heart.

/Tsuriya? Are you awake?/

/……./

He felt the sending, but couldn't decipher the concepts being sent him. Without thinking about it, he lifted out of the water, drying himself with ki and pulling a pair of shorts on, all while concentrating on lending strength to the link and the woman at the other end of it. His dark brows furrowed in concentration.

/Tell me, Tsuriya. Try again./

/………protect…nappa…protect him…./

In their world, there was only one "him" who might ever require protection.

/Why, onna? What comes?/

/lost, cold, fear, hate…….revenge…./ The concepts came at him quickly, in a spasm of pain that made him flinch as he lifted above the buildings, coming down outside the Medical wing.

/What comes, Tsuriya?/ he sent gently. He didn't know what to make of this. Was it fantasy, derived from a lifetime spent guarding Vejiita no Ou? Had she really picked up on something? She had always been uncannily good at such things; it had shocked him, in fact, that she hadn't realized what was going on with Kakkarot. He wondered if something had distracted her then, something about Kakkarot and Vejiita and the bond they hadn't yet realized they shared.

He gently opened the door to the tank room, waving off the curious staff on duty. The room was hardly lit, except for a light in the corner and the greenish glow from the tank. His tail throbbed as he noted the patched wall. The Guard on duty bowed to him, and he acknowledged the woman curtly.

/….find him…./

She floated in the tank as before, with the air mask firmly in place and her eyes closed. She looked almost normal now. There had been no word on her condition. Thus far, the doctors could not say one way or the other what was going on within her mind.

Nappa tapped lightly on the window, knowing it was probably useless. He sucked in a breath when her eyes opened and seemed to focus on him. Green light heightened her pallor, making her hollow cheeks appear skeletal almost. She looked like a visitation of the dead.

/What comes, onna?/ he sent gently, trying to let ki trickle from himself to her.

/….love…./ she sent, the weariness coming off her in waves. /death……….protect/

With that, she slumped further, her head rolling forward as the alarms began to shriek around him. Lights slammed on in the room, blinding him for a moment, and he let himself be shoved backwards away from her as medical staff flooded in. The tank was being cracked up, an emergency drain leaving her hanging from the supports for a moment before she was hauled out onto a table. He felt her ki flickering.

"Nappa-sama?"

It was the Guard behind him, pulling him clear of it all. "Nappa-sama, what did she say?" the Guard asked. Of course she'd realized what had happened between them, had felt the faint buzz and crackle of communication between Guards she was loosely networked with. Nappa stared at the woman for a moment as if he hadn't understood a word, and then he bolted, searching suddenly for a ki he couldn't find.

Protect.

Where was Vejiita?

Kakkarot flew. It was as natural to him as walking, and he gave it no thought at all, though he was somewhat soothed by the buffeting of air through his ki shield. He knew precisely where he was going and cursed himself for it. If he hadn't been so fucking weak, that bastard would never have invaded his mind.

Vejiita…

The Saiyajin no Ou had left his palace and was airborne. Kakkarot felt that very clearly now. At first the feeling had been extremely faint, and he'd realized that the king had been suppressing his ki as he'd left the cocoon of walls and Guards. Then it had flared back to normal when he was much farther south, and Kakkarot had snarled, taking it for a typically arrogant announcement that the Ou was coming for him. Coming for his 'mate'.

He had a little surprise for his king.

He'd left his baka father behind, in the first really safe place he'd come across. Once he'd finished with Vejiita, Bardock would be safe. That's why he'd taken him south in the first place, wasn't it?

Wasn't it?

His traitor mind questioned him idly, tormenting him. Had he taken Bardock away to protect his family, or to get his only competition away from his mate?

He's not my mate!!

But what if he was?

What then, Kakkarot?

It was not true. It could not be. The pain in his heart spiked up again as he recalled the hands on his tail, the teeth on him. He'd taken worse damage before. He'd been a soldier most of his life. The physical pain had been less that the rest of it. The betrayal. He would have done anything to please Vejiita. Anything. He had been wrapped in the pleasant glow of fantasies fulfilled, with the object of his secret affection always at hand for more sweet kisses, more loving embraces. He'd known it was rut. He'd known he'd never have Vejiita again. If it had just ended there, he could have walked away with a wealth of treasured, wistful memories and gone on with his life. Couldn't he?

He shut his eyes, trying to banish the memory of begging Vejiita not to hurt him anymore.

It had been rut. He knew it. But… The sound of his tailbones breaking was still loud in his ears.

Snap.

He could have loved him.

He wanted him even now.

Snap.

He couldn't forgive Vejiita, or himself, for wanting something he couldn't have so badly.

And the pain would never end, now. They were bonded. Vejiita would never love him, but he would never be rid of him.

NO!!!

He ignored his tearing eyes and flared his ki, shrieking across the dark skies. Heading north, to where his one-time lover had climbed the air, he thought of and sensed nothing and no one else.

Radditz flew west, to intercept his father. He'd dropped the ki cuff into a lake that had scrolled beneath him early on. He knew that, the moment he'd done it, his ki had been apparent to anyone on the planet who might be looking for him. Kakkarot might be, but he couldn't imagine anyone else, unless it was the saiyajin he was aiming for.

First he would deal with Bardock, then he would find his brother. Then he would help Turles with Vejiita.

He didn't know yet what Turles intended to do with Vejiita, or how he would overcome the simple brute fact of the king's strength. He hadn't really asked. There were enough heinous gadgets on Turles' ship to provide an advantage against even an ascended saiyajin, and Turles seemed familiar with all of them. Caught up in his own thoughts, Radditz hadn't asked exactly which he planned to use.

Turles. He'd shared thoughts with the man, and he trusted him. He didn't know why, exactly, considering that he'd suffered a greater defeat at his uncle's hands than ever before in his life. The pain from his tail, and the fear from his blunted senses, remained clear in his memory. And yet… He'd felt the truth in Turles. The rage, the betrayal. The grief. All of these. And they had harmonized so clearly with the emotions tearing Radditz apart that he'd been almost forced to sympathize.

Radditz was not strong enough to take on Vejiita. He doubted Turles was either, but there was always a chance that the wily survivor knew what he was doing.

Regardless of success, Vejiita would at least suffer the shock of an assault. The almighty saiyajin king would be challenged by one of his own. More than that, he would know that he wasn't above being judged for his actions. Even if Turles died within a few moments of the attack, Vejiita would still know. There were consequences for even the actions of a king.

And maybe, maybe Turles would take him out. Maybe he would inflict the damage he meant to. Radditz felt for Turles' plight and sympathized with his cause, but what meant the most to him was simply retribution for the hurt inflicted on Kakkarot.

How could Bardock and Vejiita have let that happen? How could Radditz have not been there? By all the gods, he'd sworn to Kakkarot that it would never happen again, and it had. Why couldn't he have been there? He'd had a chance to take leave with Kakkarot, but he'd passed it up. Instead of being with his brother, instead of protecting him, he'd been rampaging around as oozaru, chasing that baka Kurdek through the woods.

Logic calmly insisted that he hadn't failed, that rut had simply taken its course, with results unfortunate but not surprising with such a powerful saiyajin involved. His heart told him otherwise.

Turles, his ki utterly suppressed, didn't show up on Radditz' scouter at all. The green symbol of his father was prominent on the small screen, the numbers beside it swiftly rolling downwards as he closed with him.

Hopefully, Turles would take the king, wherever he was. Radditz would keep his father out of the fray. When all was done, all wounds would be healed.

He had no idea how wrong and how right he was.

~tbc~