Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Freezia's Defeat ❯ First ( Chapter 1 )

Freezia's Defeat

Dralion had awoken a long time ago, but she didn't have a reason to move, or even be awake, so she lay there, eyes barely open, deciding if she should get out of the bed, but really, why should she? It's so warm and comfy in here. And if so, should she roll out of bed on the left side or the right side. She'd been deciding that since dawn, and now the sunlight was hanging low in the one window she could see. Hrm, it must be right before sunset. And I didn't even waste an entire day, I had nothing to do, no where to go, nothing to see to, so I'd say today was a good day. With that she moved, rolling over onto her right side she drifted off to a light, dream flawed through-and-through with dreams.

I was there again, at the battlefield where I had confronted Freezia and defeated him, just yesterday. How many times I re-lived my moment of victory? I'd lost my tally. Freezia was there, laughing at the pitiful, weak human sent to oppose him. Complaining how he should have only the finest of warriors, not a lost human. How could any human be a great warrior, Most of them wouldn't even believe ki existed, and so few could sense it. He used me as an example, I couldn't fly. I retorted with a dry joke. I couldn't bring my ki out of my body. Another joke, that insulted him. I would have loved to have laughed at his contorted face, to rub that one insult in. But I couldn't. I had to curb my tongue, lest he attack me. He made a poisoned comment over how he was going to kill every and anything that opposed him, and anything I held dear. I put on a fake sob, so wracking it almost felt real.

"No, not my goldfish!" This had turned into a play-fight for me now, I was playing with him. I had no goldfish. With goldie's revenge on my lips I rushed at him, a light punch right past his face. Smirking he chortled,

"Can't even hit a stationary target?" Now I smirked, turning to avoid his rib-shattering uppercut,

"Guess again." I released the scythe from my arm, it snapped out and locked there. I planted my feet and twisted my torso, my blade ripping through his flesh, right between his third and fourth vertebrae. I sliced, the blade separating his head from his neck.

"I'm right on target."

The dream lost it's substance and the memory of the other things blurred.

Freeing the Sayain prince from Freezia's ship, that was a feat. Disabling his doomsday device, eliminating his henchmen. Those were simple tasks. Freezia's head and hand, a trip to the center of the planet, and a few too-eager Sayain guards all helped with those tasks.

It started over.

The sun on the rocks, the childish sound of laughter, the cheap insults and false veneration for goldie the goldfish, the gloating.

"can't even hit a stationary target?" A thin, victorious laughing smile played over my thin lips. My eyes cold and thin, his own strike just past my flesh, that would have hurt, his punches could shatter bones.

"guess again." I panned my palm, searching for the trigger. My lips fell open,

"No, no!" Where was it? I felt a strong punch to the side of my head, cracking my jaw. I hit the ground and focused my vision, slowly so slowly to see Freezia standing above me, head on shoulders, laughing.

"What did I say about warriors?"

*** ***

Dralion jolted up, straight up, the cold night air chasing away the dream, it was just a dream, a dream. She'd defeated Freezia. She had to. And she did. He didn't humiliate her, no she didn't train, stolen from home before she could think for herself, all those long years to fail! She threw off the covers and worked her jaw. Funny, I can feel it, but it sure isn't cracked. Running a hand along the edge of her chin she sighed and swung her feet around to the left of her bed. I've slept too much, that's it. She walked over to the window, her bones felt stiff, strange how only one day of no use could change the way they feel. Smiling coolly she closed her eyes and soaked in the moonlight, that was quite some time ago. Now she was under the wing of the King, one of his advisors in a sense, the dreams had plagued her though the `what if I failed that day?' dreams, though, why she had been thinking about that, now, she didn't know.

Her stomach growled and gurgled at her. Chuckling she opened her eyes, the moon hang full and heavy in the sky. Ergh, why did tonight have to be the full moon? I'm hungry! I can't leave this room when the Sayains have their moonlust. How frustrating. Her stomach growled again and her thoughts turned to such things as roast turkey with fresh-brewed coffee. Creamed spinach and grilled cheese. Greasy pizza and the classic, beer. Her feet moved of their own accord and she found herself in the outside hall. Well, I guess I can see if noone's ransacked the kitchen yet.

*** ***

Sneaking up on the closed double doors like they were deadly enemies Dralion slipped inside, to the darkened room. Tonight is the only time when they kitchen's closed. `Cus every Sayin is off fucking or fighting themselves blue. Grumbling, mildly annoyed she flipped on the lights, only to be stunned by what she saw. A bunch of shiny metal boxes with no handles, no chairs, no tables. Nothing she recognized. Either someone was really neat when they ransacked the kitchen, or the food was locked up, or a strange little bug-slug from the moon beamed down and transported the kitchen back to the mothership and left only strange sculptures. Funny. Stomach growling like a mangled beast she hopped up on a metal box and began to rummage through another row of shiny boxes, if only they would open!

Hissing and swearing a blush onto all the evil little cubes she kicked one, stubbed her toe and screamed in violent frustration, holding her foot and hopping.

"They always lock up the food on the full moon." The gruff voice startled her so much she looked up, cracked her head on her next hop and swore and howled so menacingly the evil locked box made her hop right off to land in a loud, unceremonious heap on the cold stone floor. Blinking her eyes open she sat up on her elbows, only to see a chiseled face in hers, pale skin, dark, bottomless eyes, hawk nose, fuzzy, upswept hair, thrashing tail. Fairly flat chest and a bulging crotch. Great. Just who she wanted to see. A strong, lonely, aroused Sayain male. Tonight. He made a show of sniffing her, his eyelids fluttering.

"I didn't know humans were affected by the full moon." His lips came so close to hers she could almost taste him. So tempting…so close….so easy….

"We're not." She cleared her throat and he moved closer. Not the effect she thought she wanted. "It's just evil little alien bug-slugs beamed away all the food." He licked his lips. "and left only these sculpture-keys and a puzzle." He smiled and she inched back. "Don't you hear them? They're demanding millions of dirty socks for the Stromboli." He smirked, barely controlling his shaking until he couldn't and burst out in laughter and fell with his back against the locked cabinets. She smirked and crawled over to him.

"I don't have any dirty socks. And I want some Stromboli." She licked his lips and pinned him to the ground with a hand bearing down strong on his hips, "but I'll bet you are even tastier than Stromboli." He threw off her grip and surged up into her body, toppling her. Following her and slipping on top he quivered and breathed heavily on her skin, pressing his throbbing arousal hard into her thigh,

"Oh…" He began to grind down on her, "un.nn…caAh!nn.." He gasped into his words as she spread her legs and inched closer, "can you… mmmnn..handle one of ussss in the moonlusst?" His voice trailed off into a hiss. She growled and rose up against him, gripping him down on her as she nipped at his ears and covered his lips with an answering kiss. He moaned and bucked his hips against her as he tried to swallow his tongue. His hands met her loose shirt and he snarled, fighting for dominance in the kiss, he tore off her shirt, earning a muffled yelp. Damn, he means it. Well of course he does, and my..erh participation only makes it better for him. She gave some ground and he snatched it away, his tongue pushing into her mouth. At least tonight will be one of he best, hardest nights of fast sex I've ever had….if I wake up in the morning.

She broke the kiss and slipped his shirt off, a nasty growl from her nameless partner. She chuckled and rubbed her flesh against his, silencing him for the moment. He reached down and rolled his tongue over her nipple and bushed her hands to his pants. She smiled and let her hands fal further and clutched him fiercely.

"AH!….ummm..nnn.." he gasped around her as she massaged him mercilessly through his clothes, his tail snaking around her arm and squeezing encouragement. Taking his hands to the edge of her pants, thick fingers slipping under, scratching her skin he jumped.

A klaxon erupted loud in their ears.

He fell off her, surprised to no end. Dralion slipped back and fell against the cabinets, knocking her head again. Squeezing her eyes tight and holding her injured scalp she groaned a complaint.. A heavy mass of fabric hit her face,

"Wear that. You'd better come along too, missy." She opened her eyes and saw him disappear, shirtless, out the door, to join the masses of the other Sayian warriors. She held up the shirt,

"How am I supposed to wear this?" She slipped it over her head, the edge reaching to her knees and the collar dipping almost too low. Tearing off the bottom hem and wrapping it around her slim form two-fold she shrugged,

"Oh well." She stood up off the floor and braved the horde. They practically carried her to one of the many fighting arenas.

Edging her way inside, just enough people recognizing her for a semi-clear passage, she saw none other than the King on one side of the arena, and on the other, the Prince.

"Ou Sama?" He turned,

"Dralion. You don't have to be here. The challenge has been issued. Always serve the rightful King of the Sayiains." She dipped politely,

"I will."

*** ***

The fight lasted for hours. How, Dralion didn't really know. The King and the Prince were evenly matched. Right now, the fight would be won by whoever didn't bleed to death.

*** ***

The prince had won. Prince no longer, but King, he had only the time to claim his throne before a vicious, surprise attack was launched, the dome of the arena blown to bits, the shrapnel killing many inside. A great number of battle-ready, moon-mad Sayains continued the assault.

The King, Vegeta, had been severely injured in the fight with his father and was thrown into a corner with the initial blast, having been flying above the rest, he was struck my much shrapnel. Dralion went to his side and defended his senseless body, for lack of anything less to do.

Who were these attackers? Did the Prince's challenge have anything to do with them? Or had this been brewing for longer?

After a long bloody battle, the palace was kept and the attackers retreated with heavy losses, there were few left alive indeed. No prisoners where taken, only those who were in the arena at the time of attack were considered loyal to the old, and the new, King.

Because Dralion was found with the King, and his second was not named, and she was defending him, the few survivors pledged to her as the King. Some said King, others said Queen, finally `leader', `ruler', `boss' and `big cheese' were settled on.

They took Vegeta to the infirmary, which was swamped with the dead and dying. All his bodily wounds were healed, but he was in a coma, almost dead from the shock. They couldn't afford to wake him, his condition not stable.

Placed secure, the remaining loyal Sayains searched for kin and kind as they set their place before the others would attack again.

The Civil war had been going stalemate for almost two years. Why had all these memories come back? In vivid detail and cold speed. How could we still know so little about the others, what was it they called themselves, the `True faction'? They were Sayains who had cut off their tails. To Dralion, it seemed that such was the behavior of religious fanatics, but where had that religion come from? No such vivid Sayain religion could be found. But countless of other races' could. And humans had more than their share of that sort of religion.

But Earth had been so wrapped up in it's own affairs when Dralion was sent off, so much so that she was their greatest weapon against Freezia's destruction. Funny.

There were many in the galaxy that would tactically benefit from the accusation of the Sayain Empire. Many more who would be pleased to loot it, though somehow the two factions had managed to keep them at bay. So was the Core's battle not with the True faction? But with an outside force?

Dralion groaned and collapse on her small pad, the thin mattress doing little to cushion her fall. Is it so hard? Why can't they use weapons? Don't they understand? The constant hum of the Core's mobile base burned inside her head. The damn Sayains always kept it so damn hot in this ship! Or was it the stagnate air that always bothered her? Throwing and elbow over her face, Dralion tried to drift off into any sort of sleep. Her headache only got worse. Refusing to move for half an hour she sat there, silently complaining before she sat up and didn't even bother to search for a painkiller. The weakest would knock her cold for a week. Those damn Sayains! They don't even use anesthesia for sugary! In an awful mood she stared at the tasteless interior of her quarters. Grey metal. Molded table, attached to the floor. A double bunk, of which she sat on the bottom, both clean and neat with white sheets and a grey blanket. Two chairs at the table, once attached to the floor, but no longer. A row of three cabinets at the floor of the opposite wall housed all her few possessions. Another row above that contained all the documentation she had kept of the war, which was quite extensive and comprehensive. Above that was a large screen, for communication, entertainment and work. There was a skinny, short door that lead to the small bathroom with a shower stall, sink and mirror and toilet. All of it very similar to what Earth had. Which made sense to Dralion. The only physical differences between the Sayains and humans were the tail and hair.

Tail and hair? Maybe… She dashed through the slightly wider, automatic door, out of her spartan quarters and ran straight into one of the soldiers. Not quite in the mood to accost him with insults and a damn bloody show of testosterone she apologized and continued, unheeding. Good for them that they always stopped to salute her, otherwise anyone in the halls would get run over.

Bursting onto the bridge, the guards just finished opening the locks for her, to the great surprise of the bridge crew she shouted,

"Bring up any images of out attackers!" An astonished technician at the display podium accessed a file and violent images sprung to life in three dimensions before their eyes.

Dralion examined them all, muttering under her breath. The captain of the ship blinked,

"Ma'am, isn't it your resting hours?" Dralion looked at the technician,

"A map of the known galaxy with political alliances and territories displayed." He nodded.

"Captain. Trace," Dralion turned to her, Trace's red tail twitching, obviously annoyed. This wasn't the first time Dralion had done this, disturbed the bridge or ignored her required rest, prescribed by the ship's doctor. Besides Trace liked the bridge to be hers, if Dralion was anything but the King, or `Big Cheese' (as her dog tags said, a lovely joke by her closest comrades) she would have been put in the brig for disobeying orders.

"None of the known members of the True faction have tails."

"Yes ma'am, they cut them off, we know that. Ma'am."

"Indeed we do, however they also, every last one, have non-spiky hair, like mine," Dralion ran an hand through her long, gravity-ruled blonde hair, the natural waves making it ripple like sun-kissed water.

"Both tails and spiky, upswept hair are a Sayain's great pride." They all gave her a checked deadpan look, twitching their tails and the light shining off their rather spiky, gravity-defying hair. Ignoring them she continued, "Our battle is not with the True's. This Civil war was sparked for something else. Someone's hiring one half of us to kill the other half. A quiet, lost planet would have much to gain from the division and destruction of the Sayain Empire." Pausing and staring at the map, the whole bridge trying to watch her, "Bring up all civilian freighter and transport traffic of the last six months." Lines covered the hologram.

"Eliminate freight traffic listing foodstuffs or agricultural products as cargo." Lines vanished, "Eliminate transport traffic to and from enemy and ally planets or territories." More than three quarters of the remaining lines disappeared.

"Now expand the time back one full year and graph." Approximately one hundred planets and systems were listed with nearly equal numbers.

"Organize according to number, highest to the left. Expand time back two more years." All the numbers jumped more than double.

"Two more again," the highest number fell to the middle of the graph.

"One more." The middle number fell to the lowest.

"Indicate the system, or planet with the lowest amount of traffic on the map." The graph dispersed and the map solidified. A small system to the farthest left glowed, Dralion. The bold, young technician stammered,

"Isn't that your name? Ma'am." She laughed silently,

"Yes it is. But it is also a word in a language of Earth. Poetically, it means `a great fire may follow a small spark'." She sighed.

"Our war lies there."

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