Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ FROM BAD TO WORSE... ❯ Foreboding Destiny ( Chapter 9 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Last Chapter: After a long search, Piccolo has caught up to Vegeta and
discovered the Saiyan was collecting the Dragonballs in an attempt to wish to be
dead again. After a battle, the Namek subdues him, taking him to meet...?
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FROM BAD TO WORSE...
Chapter Nine

Floating ten kilometers above the earth and cloaked from mortal eyes, lies
an immense alien structure, its origins unknown. The partial ellipse of its
shape and the hint of topiary on its surface give the deliberate impression of
unthreatening tranquility those rare few chosen to lay eyes upon it. There is
great wisdom to be found here, and true knowledge. Housed within the alabaster
palace is a repository of chambers where time-limes intersect, where dimensional
barriers fray at the seams and where nightmares and dreams are revealed.

It is not a place to venture for those who do not have the ki to withstand
the depths of divination from its wizened host. The powerful occupant had been
called many things over the course of his extended life span; God, being the
most common. His province is far more humbling than what such an auspicious
calling would suggest. He was not omnipotent. In fact his aged frame was bent
with the weight of centuries and he knew that he would not live to see another.
An intuitive and powerful creature he was not omnipresent either. His station in
life was surprisingly simple. He was the watchdog of wishes, the caretaker of
dreams...

He was Kami; The true origin of the mystic Dragonballs.

Piccolo did not want to come here. It troubled him beyond words to view
the Lookout and be reminded how the sight of it related to him personally.
Unfortunately, to refuse the orders of the ancient Namek was virtually an
impossibility since they were one in the same being. For all intents and
purposes, Kami was the paternal equivalent of a father to Piccolo. Like his
friendship with Gohan and his growing tolerance of the other Z fighters, some
part of the younger Namek wanted the elders' approval because he had been held
in contempt for far too long. Despite himself, he wanted to do the right thing.
By listening to Kami and bringing Vegeta here, he was headed in the right
direction towards redemption.

Vegeta was showing signs of coming around and Piccolo unceremoniously
dumped him on the palace steps as he went searching for the wise patriarch. He
had to grumble under his breath that the old bastard had the foresight to order
him around but not the wits to meet him personally. He looked to the doors of
the palace but did not have the courage to just brazenly enter the immense
structure. He went around to the back of the palace calling for the older Namek
with voice and mind.

Piccolo caught up to him as he was leaving his small garden and paced
nervously along side of him as the Elder made his excruciatingly slow way around
to the front of the building. When Kami rounded the corner, he saw Vegeta
sitting up and wiping the blood from his battered face with the sleeve of his
jacket. He glowered at Piccolo disapprovingly. "You did not tell me that you had
to beat him into submission to get him here."

Piccolo shrugged. "It worked, didn't it?"

The elder Namek shook his head in distaste at the other alien's actions.
"You've done quite enough. Stay here," he barked, and went over to where the
Saiyan was seated.

"Vegeta," Kami greeted cordially.

Vegeta's dark eyes narrowed in agitation before he deliberately spat out a
mouthful of blood on the polished marble floor of the Lookout. In the background
Piccolo made a strangled squawk at the Saiyan's belligerence but Kami only
observed the act with veiled nonchalance, refusing to be baited by such obvious
tactics.

"Walk with me," the Elder said.

"Ask me nicely," Vegeta snarled back.

"Vegeta-" Piccolo tensened with outrage until Kami raised a calm hand in
his direction. He smiled pleasantly when he looked back to Vegeta and actually
gave a respectful little bow.

"Please, young prince."

It was the correct thing to say. Getting to his feet, the Saiyan
obediently went to his side and allowed himself to be led in an aimless walk
around the sparse grounds. At first there was only silence between the alien
pair. Weighing his words carefully before he spoke, Kami watched as Vegeta cast
a probing glance around his surroundings, eyeing everything and cataloging what
he saw for future reference. It was that meditative quiescence of his calm
manner that prompted Kami to ask, "Your boyhood was not that of a typical Saiyan
youth, was it Vegeta?"

Vegeta snapped his head around quickly. "What does my childhood have to do
with any of this?"

"Please. Oblige me."

Grumbling, he admitted, "I was first-born Prince to the House of Vegeta of
the Saiyajin Royalty Elite. Being such, my upbringing was different than that of
a lower-caste Saiyan."

"In what way?"

"What's this all about?"

"I am only curious. Tell me more."

"I was being groomed for the throne," Vegeta finally said after a long
pause. "I was forbidden to associate with those my own age who would later
become warriors. I could fight with the best of them but I had to learn things a
commoner wouldn't need."

"Like what, for example?" Kami asked curiously.

"You're really pushing it," the Saiyan told him menacingly. He received
only that disarming, benevolent smile in response. "When I wasn't in training to
fight and control my power, I had to study useless subjects like math, history,
philosophy..." He gave an irritated shake of the head. "By the time I was ten I
was bored out of my mind."

"Then you were sent off to Frieza in exchange for your world. You did
everything that creature told you to but he killed your father and destroyed
your planet anyway," Kami said in a saddened tone of voice. "You were never
intended to become a soldier, Vegeta, but fate dealt you a very cruel blow."

"No shit," he retorted sourly in agreement.

"Tell me," the Elder continued with that infuriating calmness in his
manner. "Did you continue your studies while you were in Frieza's employ?"

"I had an obligation to honor my father and my heritage."

"So the answer is; yes."

Reluctantly, Vegeta nodded. "I'll ask you one last time...What the hell is
this about?" His patience was ticking down with each probing question and the
both of them knew it.

"You have a surprisingly reflective and insightful nature," Kami concluded
after a long, meditative silence. "It is evident in your manner and speech and
clearly a result of your unique upbringing. Any other Saiyan, excluding Gokou of
course, would have attacked me by now."

"I haven't yet decided against that, old man," the Saiyan assured him in a
dangerous tone of voice.

Kami's smile broadened despite the harsh words. "I have something very
special to show you."

"Oh goody," Vegeta muttered under his breath but he followed the old Namek
anyway.

Blinking in disbelief, Piccolo watched the strange pair enter the
immaculate palace, Kami actually stepping aside to let the small Saiyan in
first. It was a privilege that had never been offered to him and, for perhaps
the first time in his life, the young Namek had to grapple with the bitter
emotion of jealousy.

"What lies beyond this door is a very special room," Kami told him when
they had reached the end of one of a seemingly infinite number of twisting
corridors. They had taken so many different turns down so many identical
hallways that Vegeta hoped the old Namek wouldn't kick off or he'd never find
his way back outside. "I would not invite any other Saiyan here, Vegeta. I
recognize a rare trait in you and I believe that you alone can comprehend what I
am about to show you where no other of your brethren, were they alive, would
understand. I doubt even Gokou could fathom what lies beyond this door."

"There's a shocker," Vegeta said without surprise. "Are we just going to
stand here and admire the damn door or are you actually going to open it?"

Inclining his head, Kami closed his arthritic fingers around the doorknob
and carefully opened the door. "Enter at will, young prince," he said affably.

Casting him a mistrustful glare, Vegeta walked inside of the darkened room
a couple of feet and then halted as he considered his surroundings. Coming up
along side of him, Kami asked, "What do you think?"

"It's a funhouse hall of mirrors. Big deal," the Saiyan retorted, clearly
unimpressed. All around him and as far back in the room his sharp eyes could see
were mirrors of all shapes and sizes that stared blankly back at him. The air
was musty and stale, reeking of ancient dust and tarnished metal. No one had
been in this room for a very long time, Vegeta figured. The tension went out of
his compact form at the desolate sight of empty glass and his despair returned.
He resented this detour of riddles that was keeping him from his task; He had
Dragonballs to hunt for and a deathwish to make. He would find nothing here and
turned to leave.

"Wait one moment, Vegeta," the Elder said patiently. He placed a firm hand
on Vegeta's arm that contained a surprising amount of strength. "Please look
around first before you resume your quest."

Vegeta shrugged off the alien's grip with an expression of disgust, noting
how the Elder had cleverly moved between him and the door. He debated an attack
and decided to humor the senile old goat instead and walked further into the
room, muttering to himself. It didn't take him long before he noticed that his
presence wasn't reflected on any of the smooth surfaces. Wandering over to one
that was taller than he was, Vegeta stared at it for a moment and hesitantly
touched the dusty surface. An image appeared and he jumped back in alarm,
watching as the shape took on a more discernable form.

"Do you recognize him, Vegeta?" Kami asked quietly.

"It's my father," he answered but he was frowning at the image in a
thoughtful way.

"Look more closely," the Elder prompted.

As he examined the likeness before him, Vegeta crossed his arms and
watched as the person on the other side of the smooth surface did the exact same
thing. The tall Saiyan was dressed in the regal battle-dress befitting Royalty
but the style was different, looking streamlined and very modern. On the left-
hand side of the man's chestplate was the Royal Crest of the House of Vegeta.

Moving in closer, Vegeta examined the Saiyan's face thoroughly and, more
importantly, his eyes. "It's me," he concluded, taking a step back. He cocked
his head to one side and his counterpart mimicked the gesture, blinking when he
did. "Me, as King."

"Welcome to the Room of What Was, What Will Be and What Should Have Been,"
Kami said from behind. "In a perfect, unfractured timeline, this would be you;
Today."

"I'm...taller," Vegeta observed with annoyance. His supposed likeness
towered a full foot and a half over him and he found that more than a little
disconcerting. "Why would I be taller?"

At length, the Namek told him in a regretful tone, "Your hatred of Frieza
and your grief over the loss of your world stunted your growth during your
formative years. Don't you...remember?"

"I didn't-" Vegeta opened his mouth to respond when the mirror to his left
rippled in concord to his thoughts. He saw himself as a small boy, probably no
more than eleven or twelve, practicing fiercely. Nappa was beside him, his lips
moving soundlessly but Vegeta's memories filled that void and he knew what his
former bodyguard was saying. The older Saiyan was imploring him to eat but he
wasn't hungry, focusing all of his will on his training awaiting the day when he
would get revenge on what Frieza had done to him and his people. A Saiyan youth
entering puberty required a colossal amount of food to maintain his ki and
growing body. During those awful years, Vegeta had perhaps eaten a quarter of
what his starving body required and by the time he had finally snapped out of
his grief the damage to his system had been irreparable. He hadn't grown much
more and it had taken a long time for his muscles to fill out despite his harsh
training. Not for the first time, Vegeta was thinking that all of that training
had been an utter waste of time and effort and his face darkened at the thought.
In response to his sudden brooding, the image on the mirror faded to an ominous
black.

Kami held his breath as he waited for the inevitable Saiyan tantrum that
would destroy this delicate room and its irreplaceable treasures. Instead,
Vegeta took a deep breath and turned away from the mirror as he resumed his
inspection. He had made his peace with his size long ago and learned to use it
to his advantage. It was amazing how many worlds associated small size with
weakness. In fact, Radditz and Nappa used to make wagers on how long he would
put up with the short jokes before he finally annihilated the population. A
smile flickered across his face at the thought of his two cohorts and he
faltered in his course as the mirror closest to him came to life.

He, Nappa and Radditz were surveying a recent act of destruction, standing
in the scattered remains of people and debris all reduced to one unidentifiable
charred mass. Radditz was braying laughter over something Nappa had said and
gave the Vegeta in the mirror a slap on the back that made him stumble forwards
several steps. He came back and punched the unruly-haired warrior directly in
the crotch as hard as he could then he and Nappa were standing over the
contorted giant laughing so hard they could barely stand.

Good times...Vegeta thought sadly and dropped his eyes. Radditz was dead
by Piccolo's hand, Nappa by his own. He was the only one left now, Kakarott
didn't even count; Super-Saiyan or not. The younger man was too damaged by this
miserable world to be salvageable. He was a Saiyan by birthright only. That left
no one for Vegeta to turn to. At least in Hell he would be reunited with friends
and enemies alike and he wanted that company very, very much.

As if catching that stray thought, Kami remarked gently, "Piccolo informed
me of your earlier distress. You thought that your being wished back with the
others was an error."

"Wasn't it?" he asked dully.

"Look up, Vegeta."

"Shit. I'm going to get whiplash in this stupid room," he sputtered but
did as he was instructed. Directly above him was a white line that stretched on
in a vertical slash towards the center of the room.

"That line represents the course of your life," Kami told him, reaching
up. One talon touched that ribbon of light and suddenly a second line broke off
from the original and transformed into a blood red slash, running along beside
it. "The red line is the result of your involvement with Frieza."

"Not voluntarily," the Saiyan told him bitterly.

"If it had been, it would have remained one path instead of two," Kami
assured him. "The instant you were handed over to Frieza, the course of your
destiny was altered, running concurrent and waiting for the opportunity to
rejoin the original."

Walking along underneath of it, Vegeta followed the line until it came to
an abrupt end. "What happened to it?"

His voice almost a whisper, the Namek said, "That's where you died by
Frieza's hand."

Vegeta's face tightened at the reminder. Beside him, a mirror rippled with
color and he found himself witnessing his deathbed confessional to Gokou,
speaking through a mouthful of blood, his eyes bright with remorseful tears. He
turned away from the terrible scene with a livid hiss, squeezing his eyes shut
and willing the picture away. He still woke up some mornings thinking he was
suffocating as he clawed his way out of a grave full of loose dirt. There wasn't
a day that went by when he didn't dwell on the torture Frieza had subjected him
to during those final moments on Namek; Five hundred blows into his back at the
blink of an eye, his spine shattering like glass, internal organs ruptured. The
tyrant had done him a service shooting him through the heart and speeding his
sure slow death. Why couldn't anyone have just LEFT him that way, damn it?!

"The wish that resurrected you back with the others was deliberate in its
wording. There was no error. You were intended to return."

"Why?" He didn't appear relieved by the news, quite the opposite.

"There are several reasons," Kami said as he reached up and touched the
end of the red line. At that exact point below it, the original ribbon of white
resumed its course as it split apart into more than two dozen different colored
lines that ran alongside of the original.

"Whoa," Vegeta confessed in a small voice.

Translating what was above them, Kami explained, "Once you were wished
back, your destiny resumed its predestined course. Not only that but it is now
directly interwoven into the lives of those that you've associated with on this
world."

"Kakarott..."

"The green line represents Gokou, yes. He's here. As are Piccolo, Krillin,
Gohan, Yamcha, Tien... The orange line is Bulma Briefs."

Vegeta audibly swallowed at the mention of the woman's name and his
wandering thoughts were betrayed by the mirror beside them. Both men witnessed
his tender kiss with her in the drafting department. "Knock it off!" Vegeta
snapped to the mirror and the scene faded almost as quickly as it appeared.

Kami observed his distress with amusement. "You care for this woman. It is
the only line among this entire collection that is closest to your own."

"Several reasons I got wished back," Vegeta reminded him in a desperate
attempt to change the subject. "What's another?"

"Of course. Here is what would have happened if you had been excluded from
the wish and remained dead." Kami painfully stretched himself up again and this
time at his touch, Vegeta's personal line ended beside the red one where Frieza
had killed him. The rest still ran along the ceiling but their length had been
drastically shortened. All of them ended at the same point.

"They all...died?"

"Them. The Earth. All life as we know it. Deceased."

Staring up at the Elder Namek in confusion, Vegeta backed up to the start
of his original lifeline and counted his steps carefully until he reached the
end. Kami watched him with interest as he performed some quick mental
calculations and finally said, "Three years from now. You're talking about the
arrival of the androids that purple-haired punk warned us about."

Kami had to betray a smile at the Saiyan's ingenuity. He was pleased that
his initial decision to permit Vegeta into this fragile chamber had not been in
vain after all. Able to rein in his thoughts with impressive self-control,
Vegeta was also puzzling out the Destiny Grid with very little assistance. "Very
good. Yes, the android threat is the catalyst that brings about the Earth's
destruction."

"And my staying dead causes that to happen? Huh. I always figured it'd be
the other way around," Vegeta remarked. He actually appeared to be amused by the
whole affair. "My presence will actually change how it all turns out?"

"Directly or indirectly, yes," Kami sighed. Above them the lines faded as
the effort on the Elder's reserves forced him into dropping it. "I cannot tell
for sure. The future is like a mirror's reflection; it can be clearly seen or
distorted, even broken. And sometimes, it's very rare, but sometimes the image
will turn in on itself, fracturing under the stress and creating an alternate
path-"

"-a paradox," Vegeta cut in. "You're talking about the creation of a
parallel dimension."

"Precisely," Kami said with wide-eyed shock.

Catching the look, Vegeta sneered at him. "Why does everyone give me that
god-damned irritating look of surprise whenever I say or do something rational?
I'm not some war-club swinging barbarian, you know."

"I'm very sorry, Vegeta. I meant no insult," the Elder told him sincerely.

Vegeta waved his apology away. He was looking up at the ceiling again and
walked a short distance away, his face lighting up with concern. "It ended right
around here..."

Alarm settled into the pit of Kami's stomach when he realized what the
Saiyan was in the process of doing. "I believe we are done here-"

"-Not yet we're not." Vegeta followed his footsteps on the dusty floor
back to where his line had originally started and traced his steps, walking past
the flustered Namek until he came to another abrupt stop. "The lines of the
others had continued on but mine ended around here," Vegeta mused. He cast Kami
a shrouded glare and the old Namek felt his body grow cold at the variety of
emotions visible in the small Saiyan's eyes, none of them good. In a cold voice,
he stated, "Eight years from now, maybe ten. I'm going to die again anyway,
aren't I?"

Very deliberately, the elderly Namek could only say, "The future is not
written in stone, Vegeta. I-I cannot say for sure one way or the other. I'm-"

Ignoring him, Vegeta was looking into the nearest mirror with only intense
concentration in his dark eyes. As if through a fog an apparition appeared
before him and he caught a vague glimpse of himself; battered and bloody, his
clothes torn. There was a strange design etched onto his forehead-

-His hair was blond.

"What the HELL?!" Vegeta barked in shock, watching helplessly as the vague
image dissipated like smoke. He had been a Super-Saiyan! With a cry of rage he
brought both fists down on the glass when the reflection refused to reappear.

Kami had watched the scene in complete disbelief, unable to suppress a
shiver. Somehow, Vegeta had willed a future vision of himself to appear. It was
a skill that not even the seasoned Namek could boast very often and the Saiyan
had done it effortlessly. "Vegeta-"

"Goddamn it, come BACK!"

"VEGETA!" Kami bellowed. He suddenly wanted very badly to be out of this
room. "It is time that we left."

Turning on him with bared teeth, the outrage was plain on the Saiyan's
face as he demanded, "What the fuck was that?! CALL IT BACK!"

"I can't," Kami said in a tired voice. He went to the door and waited,
leaning heavily on his cane. Trying not to show his impatience when Vegeta
showed absolutely no signs of cooperating with his request, the Namek called out
to him, "You have found out the truth to your query with a depth no other man
would ever understand. Isn't that enough for one day?"

Staring fixedly at the mirror, Vegeta ignored him as he willed the ghostly
apparition to come back, his entire body shuddering with the effort. He saw
nothing, not so much as a distant ripple. His concentration had shattered the
instant he had caught sight of his hair in those blond spikes. He was still left
too shaken to organize whatever mental connection it was that had originally
summoned the vision. With an errant finger he stroked the glass in a gesture
that was almost a caress. "I...I was a Super-Saiyan." He had to say the words
out loud to believe them. "That-that was really me..."

"Vegeta."

He growled at the soft voice and resented it intruding on his thoughts.
Glancing over at the Elder, he looked back to the mirror before reluctantly
stepping away and joining the relieved Namek out in the corridor.

He visibly flinched when the door behind him slammed shut on its own.

Using his cane for support, Kami took his time as the pair retraced their
steps back towards the entrance of the palace. He made numerous attempts at
conversation with Vegeta to draw the smaller alien out of his shell and evaluate
his mood. The Room of What Was, What Will Be and What Should Have Been was
disquieting to even one as old and experienced as he but he could not even begin
to comprehend the reaction of such personal revelations to an uninitiated.
Despite his efforts, Vegeta had fallen completely silent and said absolutely
nothing. With his heightened sensitivity and insight, Kami could almost hear the
Saiyan's mind as his thoughts ground together at a relentless pace. It was
obvious from his tense manner that the brief moment of civility was over between
them. Reluctantly the gentle old Namek fell into a pensive silence.

When they rounded the last corner and the palace doors came into sight
Vegeta quickened his pace, almost jogging in his haste to be out of the
building.

Falling behind, Kami called after him; "Think on these matters carefully,
young prince. Do not do anything rash. Remember that this world needs you!"

The only response he got was a ki blast that blew open the front doors.
Without hesitation Vegeta sheathed himself in his blue aura of energy and
blasted out of the palace entrance, almost bowling over Piccolo who had been
hovering uneasy outside of the doors.

"Vegeta!" he called but the Saiyan was already out of earshot. With
tremendous speed he made a graceful arc as he returned planet-side and
disappeared past the Lookouts horizon.

Relying heavily on his cane, Kami slowly made his way over to his younger
duplicate, his wrinkled emerald features betraying no emotion.

"Should I go after him?" Piccolo asked, wondering what could make the
brash Saiyan flee the premises as swiftly as he had.

"No."

The pair watched the blue contrail of energy left in Vegeta's wake scatter
to the wind and dissipate until the sky was clear once more. Eventually Piccolo
turned to evaluate the other mans face and, when he got no reaction, prompted,
"Well? How did things go?"

"I'm not sure," came the enigmatic response.

"What did you say to him?"

"Many things."

His heavy brows drawing together in displeasure, Piccolo realized, "You're
not going to tell me anything, are you?"

"No."

Piccolo slapped his hands to his sides in frustration and angrily stalked
a short distance away. He never got along with the senior alien on the best of
times and generally went out of his way to avoid him. The main reason of that
was because he knew that he was just a part that had been cast away as if it was
viewed as undesirable; much like a wart or a boil. Before, as little as two
years ago, he had never given a damn what people had thought of him until he had
abducted Gohan for training. Damned if the little bugger hadn't wormed his
annoying ass into his dark heart in a few short months. Following that he had
learned the brutal truth of his celestial origins from Vegeta, of all people. In
all it had been quite an eye-opener for him. To know he had once been looked at
with such utter condemnation from his creator now preyed on his newly developed
conscience. Still, it was somewhat reassuring to now have a kinship with this
benevolent creature who could offer him some guidance and support whenever he
needed it with no questions asked. It was a tie to his alien heritage and to his
people he could look forward to.

He suddenly came to a sudden halt and the breath went out of him as if he
had been sucker-punched. All of those relieved thoughts carried a bitter reality
that was only now becoming obvious to him. All of those things, few though they
were...

It was more than Vegeta had.

"Is everything going to be alright now?" he dared to ask.

For the first time, Kami's amiable demeanor faded, granting a glimpse of
the alien's true concern and worry. "...I can only hope so."

Piccolo, ever the pessimist did not like the sound of that one bit. "What
about the Dragonballs? What do we do if he continues looking for them?"

Wordlessly, his tense features never changing, Kami reached into the many
folds of his robe and came up with a circular object clenched in one gnarled
hand.

Piccolo eyed the Dragonball radar in complete surprise. "He just gave it
to you?"

"No."

When a more elaborate answer was not forthcoming, the younger Namek eyed
the Elder shrewdly and then released a bark of laughter. "Why you sly old
pickpocket! I never would have thought you capable of such an act."

Betraying a slight smile, Kami returned the object to a hidden pocket and
continued to stare off into the bright azure sky. "Of course not," he said at
last. "After all, I only passed along my most undesirable attributes to you.
Wisdom was not one of them."

Snarling at the deliberate barb, Piccolo decided his presence was no
longer welcome and decided to take his leave of the gloating Namek. He took to
the air and sped a quick course back to the Son household.

Kami watched him go and stayed in his place. Before long, Mr. Popo
appeared from one of the chambers of the deceptively huge palace. Wordlessly, he
took his place beside his lifelong friend and mentor, his pleasant dark face
never changing as he waited for the elderly Namek to speak first.

After a very long time, Kami released a sigh that seemed to come from the
cellar of his soul. He turned to his dearest companion and confessed in a weary
tone, "These young ones are going to be the death of me."

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NEXT CHAPTER TO BE POSTED SATURDAY, OCTOBER 06, 2001. If you would like to be on
the mailing list to receive notification of when new chapters of this story are
posted, please e-mail your request to: darke_angelus@hotmail.com
--------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
Chapter Ten: How will Vegeta react to the revelations that Kami has shown him?
Will he attempt to continue his search for the Dragonballs or will he accept
what he's learned? Things aren't looking good for the mercurial Saiyan...