Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Hunted Saiyans ❯ Chapter One: Stinging ( Chapter 1 )

Title: Hunted Saiyans

Anime: Dragonball Z

Author: MizuSasuke

Rating: Y

Category: Genre: Post-Apocalyptic Type: Alternate Universe

Summary: In Part 1, a mysterious pod lands on Earth. It holds a secret that could influence the lives of everyone on planet Earth, including Goku and his friends. Goku and the rest of the gang try to solve its mysteries while Tilo, a mysterious Saiyan/Human makes his debut to prove his worth as a Saiyan, a Human and a Warrior.

 

 

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Dragonball Z or any of the characters in Dragonball Z. Dragonball Z belongs to Akira Toriyama. It is owed/licensed by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz. I do however own Tilo and the story idea so don't you steal!

 

Please Note: I know some people are a little fussy about getting things accurate when it comes to fan fiction. However, I've never watched GT and I've heard that it pretty sucks. No offence to GT fans. So let's just pretend that Goku never goes and trains Uub, Trunks (poor kid) doesn't have to wear those cow boy clothes and his personality is about the same as Mirai Trunks because… well, Mirai is less spoilt and hotter. However, Gohan can keep the glasses. All set? Ok? Good!

Thanks for reading and please don't forget to review!

 

 

 

 

HUNTED SAIYANS

 

by

MIZU SASUKE

(The best female author ever! Mwa ha ha ha ha ha!!!)

 

 

 

Part 1: Quam Maximus Exitium*

 

Prologue: Alpha and…

 

 

Tilo. Aged 16. Quarter-Saiyan. Running for his life.

 

The wreckage behind him was what was left of their hide-out as the flames danced into the air, threatening to pull him back to where his family and friends lay. The heat was overwhelming; the taste of blood in his mouth was like steel.

 

Everyone was definitely dead - there was no way in hell even a Super Saiyan could withstand a blast like that. The red sky of the damned planet where he spent 3 months on was killing him with irony: it was nearly dripping like the very blood he had oozing down his arm and legs, its presence overwhelming him, choking him. In the distance he saw the rising towers of the Jaadrab city: lean, ivory black, and each shaped like the devils fork itself. Above him the stars were barely twinkling, or were they? He could barely tell because of the blood that coated his right eye which he held firmly shut. The other was filled with tears. Spaceships were flying above as usual, only this time he knew it would be a matter of minutes before a whole armada from the City would arrive at the scene.

 

He doubted they'd find the bodies.

 

Smoke still rose from his burnt left arm; it wasn't the first time he smelt roasted flesh. He wanted to cover it with something to end the horrible stench, but his right arm was too occupied trying to keep his burnt arm from swaying too much from its dislocation. Damn it hurt like hell.

 

Not a moment too soon and he heard the sirens. The land was barren: the earth he limped on was almost black and there wasn't the slightest hint of organic life. Lava here and there made this planet seem like only a taste of hell. Tilo knew that in a different circumstance it would be easy to find him. But they thought he was dead, and that made life a little simpler for him.

 

`Get to the pod… get to the pod…' he desperately reminded himself. He had to make it to the secret location before anyone could stop him.

 

A sudden explosion and Tilo whipped his head back in horror. The flames suddenly burst out, higher and higher as though in rage. Tilo couldn't think straight before he realised that something must have sparked within the wreckage to cause such an explosion. Debris and boulders flew into the air and landed like rain onto the earth, some crushing the hovercrafts and other vehicles that had come to the scene. Tilo couldn't help but smile at the death of the creatures in those machines. The fire crackled insanely and he could see the hovercrafts taking out their water pipes in an attempt to wrestle with the fire.

 

Pssssshhhhhhheewwwww!! Beep beep beep!!!

 

His Saiyan ears told him exactly what he wanted to hear. They were having trouble killing the fire, and it even sounded like more machines were exploding in the frenzy.

 

That should keep them busy for a while.

 

Tilo limped as fast as he could to his destination. Flying there was impossible without getting detected. The slightest rise in his ki and he'd be finished.

 

He could not afford death now. In his pocket rattled a mysterious piece of machinery that might save them all…

 

 

`Here, take this, and try and find Goku. It's the only way Tilo, please.'

 

`What about you? What are you going to do? I can't leave you behind! Let's go together!'

 

The woman shook her head. `I've prepared a pod that's only big enough for one person. It's about 9km East of here, so you have to go through that exit we used the first time. We can't go with you; all of us together would make it easy for them to kill you. Please Tilo,' she looked behind her, Gohan was holding onto the collapsing roof, a vain obviously throbbing through the strain, `you don't have time. If you find him, he'll definitely know what to do.'

 

The woman reached out and hugged him, but it was so quick Tilo hardly felt it.

 

He wanted to apologize to her for causing such grief. To Trunks and Goten (those kids didn't deserve this), to his Father and Mother. He wanted to apologise to Gohan… to everyone. It was all his fault they were living this damned life. He should have never been born, never messed around with things. Who knew one small screw up would lead to… well, this!

 

Dust and rubble fell between them and she didn't bother avoiding them as they fell onto her aqua hair. Despite the age and wisdom in her eyes, her face and body still had that undying youth and unmatched beauty. Her fingers were weary though from working overtime on the pod. Blood still snaked down her forehead were she had been previously wounded.

 

She suddenly turned, tears flowing down her face. Tilo tried to avoid them, but it was obvious what those sky-blue eyes were telling him. He rapidly felt the agonising sensation of guilt in the pit of his heart.

 

He quickly looked up and remembered looking into Gohan's onyx eyes for the last time, pleading him to go…

 

 

That's when he left them. He hoped they escaped, but he knew better then that. The pod was not far now, just a km or two. God, he wished he could fly there… But he could not die.

 

`The pod… the pod…'

 

 

Chapter 1

Stinging

 

 

6 months earlier…

 

Earth: at peace for the most part. The clouds spread lowly over the landscape, soothingly and like candy-floss. The rocky landscape was still torn with battle scars since the previous calamity that had befallen on the Earth. Still, wildlife had slowly returned to this part of the Earth, including reptiles, birds and rodents. There was in particular a sandy snake that rattled between the burning rocks, flicking its tongue, its eyes cold and cruel. Seconds away from death was a desert rat: fat, hairy, juicy and unaware of the danger that was the snake. With one quick swipe the snake struck but only caught air. Bewildered, the snake hissed and with comical eyes stared at where his meal had disappeared.

 

A shiny thing uncommon in the landscape reflected the snake. Around the shiny object was a crater of some sort, enough for his prey to seek refuge for a few seconds longer. The snake quickly slithered towards the creaks and could hear the mouse moving over the rubble and then stop. Now the rodent was shivering.

 

Had the snake thought in English, it would have sounded something like this; “You're mine now!!!! (Sssssss!!!) ” It was about to repeat what he couldn't finish a moment ago when it was suddenly trampled ferociously by a dozen feet.

 

“It's over here! Hey, get a camera!”

 

“Oh man, this is gonna sell big time!”

 

Men and women dressed casually, while others in tuxedos and black skirts long enough not to be called indecent arrived at the scene hastily.

 

A pod.

 

That's what had invaded Earth again, and Satan TV had beaten the rest of the world to it.

 

“Quick, start rollin'!”

 

“You're on in 3… 2… 1!”

 

Beep beda beep beep!

 

“Hello and welcome back to Satan TV. As you can see behind me…”

 

Not a moment later and the rest of the media, police, special organisations as well as the army surrounded the pod. Photo's flared everywhere and reporters hysterically spoke into their microphones and pointed towards the pod. The object, about the size of a Saiyan ship, lay there pretty lifeless. Yellow bands bordered the infamous sphere, keeping everyone at bay. Then, from the crowd, came a man in a white UV protection kit that you'd normally see at a testing facility with but a glass to peek through.

 

“What if it's one of those “things” like last time? The one's with tails!”

 

Piccolo's acute ears picked those very words up. At least the Earth was becoming more sensible in remembering dangers like that. Then again, no one seemed to notice a green man in a cape hovering above them with his arms crossed. Within a moment came the voice of a young man dressed in orange gi behind him.

 

“Yo, Piccolo! Everything okay here?”

 

“Yeah I guess. Though I can't sense any ki coming from that thing...” Piccolo let a sweat drop fall, deep in thought. Goten smiled as he floated closer.

 

“I hope it's strong, I've been really bored lately!” Then he tilted his head back, perked his lips and scratched his chin in thought, “But ahh.. Do you think we should wait and see what happens? You know, just in case we do anything wrong…”

 

Piccolo considered the likeliness of Goten being the one to screw up more then Piccolo could ever. He was, after all, a Namek, and Piccolo never “screwed up”. Intelligence was something you were born with reckoned Piccolo, and his young friend was regrettably not as fortunate as himself. Goten's brain power was, (if it were possible) slightly less then his father's. Piccolo suppressed a sigh and replied, “No. We've done enough waiting. Let's go in and…”

 

BOOOOOOMMMM!!!!!!!

 

“What the f-” Goten nearly cursed when a sudden explosion went off from the crowd followed be screams.

 

“Calm down everyone!” called out a man with a moustache but no one seemed to do so. “HEY, SHUT THE HELL UP!”

 

An officer came from the crowd with a gun in his hand. This seemed to cause more of a panic.

 

“Idiots,” Piccolo whispered harshly when he realised what had happened.

 

“Hey, what the hell happened here? Ma'm calm down, hey, HEY! I need back up!”

 

Several more officers tried to keep the crowd calm. Camera men suddenly whirled towards the police and the scene of the explosion: what a delightful day it was today for them!

 

“That's what I'm trying to explain,” the moustached man said once it was less noisy. He had a band on his right skinny sleeve that read `Channel 6'. “Our bot here exploded you see…”

 

The officer's eyes widened like frying pans, “You're robot just blew itself up?!”

 

Disturbed and disapproving murmurs and whispers muddled around the crowd. The Channel 6 man scratched his moustache in an embarrassed way, his lips slowly forming an upside-down `U'.

 

“Yes sir. Here, you can speak with our technician… I hope no charges will be pressed, since no one actually got hurt…” the man and officer disappeared in the crowd and were probably headed towards the Channel 6 bus.

 

They were quickly ignored and their attention, which had never really been drawn from the pod, was now back on the mysterious silver sphere. The scene seemed to continue below them. Goten frowned suddenly and looked at Piccolo. “A robot exploded? Why? How?”

 

This time, Piccolo didn't know. He watched as within a few minutes a large crane hoisted the pod after it had been wrapped in a non-radioactive foil. A special truck that opened like a box waited a few feet away for its candy to be dumped. Goten seemed to hate the idea of anyone else enjoying sweets but him.

 

“Hey, where are they taking that thing?” he suddenly cried. Quick enough had he found the answer: On the truck, in bold red letters, he read, “Special Earth Defence Department Sector 76? Piccolo, do you think they're safe with that thing? Piccolo?”

 

It was minute, but it was enough to blow his brains out. Piccolo wasn't sure if Goten could hear the screeching sound, but as soon as he heard it he yelled out in horrible pain.

 

“Oh my God… Piccollo! Are you all right?!”

 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!! AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!! AAAGH…. HMGHHHHHHHHYAAAAAAAA!!!”

 

The sound… whatever the hell it was… where ever it was coming from... it was worse then when Gohan whistled to him all those years ago. This… This was going to kill him!! Couldn't Goten hear it?!

 

“PICOLLO! What's happening? What's WRONG?!”

 

Goten's pupils had shrunk to the size of pinheads, his face paled. He couldn't stop trembling. He tried to find any logical explanation to what was causing this, but the only answer was the pod that was now being slowly and carefully placed into the truck. That thing, damn it! Desperate, utterly desperate, Goten placed his palms together…

 

`I have to save Picollo. Kami, I know this is stupid but… We can always wish them back…' Goten thought.

 

“KAAA----MEEEEEKAAAA-ME-------”

 

THACK!

 

Goten whirled around before he could finish his attack. Piccolo's ears had been ripped off and purple blood was oozing from their sockets. Goten couldn't believe what he saw. Holding one ear in each hand was Goku, frowning. Subsequently, he let the ear in each hand fall to the Earth. Goten couldn't keep his eyes off Picollo; the Namek's eyes had gone to the back of his head. Goten's palms were drenched in sweat. Stop shaking… Picollo's alive…

 

“Picollo? Dad?”

 

Slowly, the Namek fainted into Goku's arms. The Saiyan held the tall Namek as comfortably as possible.

 

“Dad, what happened?”

 

“I'll explain later. But first,” he looked at the people beneath them, “we have to get out of here. We've caused too much of a scene. It looks like they're just about ready to fire at us.”

 

Goten didn't think the ammo and lasers they were about to let loose on them would do any damage, but the young man understood his father's wishes. As quickly as Goku appeared did Goten grab his father by the sleeve and the two men vanished using instantaneous transmission to Kami's Lookout.

 

 

****

 

“Vegeta stop it!” Bulma wore her usual working clothes, but her husband was being unusually clingy this morning. He nuzzled into her neck as she tried to make breakfast. She shrugged him off, trying very hard to keep herself from jumping on him. The pancakes were burnt and the shape was anything but a round.

 

“Bulma, just give up. Why don't you let those machines cook like you always do? Dammit, Bulma!”

 

She growled when she spilt too much oil in the frying pan. Quickly, she tried to rid some of it in another pan. The kitchen had suffered more then it deserved that morning. Flour was spread in a heap on the white tiled floor. The kitchen was an impressive size, the colours repainted to Bulma's sudden taste change. She had gone for Mediterranean style after looking into a magazine called, “Home MakeOvers!” The colour didn't help her mood.

 

“I can't Vegeta!” she snapped, “Those things have gone for repair, so I have to do the cooking myself. Oh, no! Would you look at that! Ugh! I swear if…”

 

No food? A Saiyan without food? Suddenly Vegeta didn't feel in the mood for Bulma. He needed a meal dammit! Ignoring his woman Vegeta had to find an alternative source for breakfast. He quickly took to the sky and headed to his son's home.

 

 

****

 

Trunks, after much consideration, moved with his wife and son to a calm, serene woodland near Satan City. After the event of last year Trunks didn't think he could take anymore violence. His wife in any case wouldn't allow it. Trunks still had his job at Capsule Corp as lead engineer for space ships. Engineering had become a second passion of his. Computers and cars, space ships and cell phones; he knew them all, and he had his grandfather and mother to thank for that. As soon as Trunks turned 16 he knew he wanted to help out at Capsule Corp. Whenever he had the chance, if he wasn't training when his father forced him to, he spent some time in the labs experimenting with wires and broken robots. He discovered his talent and applied for University the following year. When he turned 18 Trunks was pleased to have met the love of his life, Pulla, and together they started a family that very same year. A lot of events happened from then on; finishing school, planning the wedding, applying for jobs. At 34, Trunks was slowly getting used to a normal life again, even if the occasional psychopath passed by Earth to fight “The Mightiest Warrior.”

 

Pulla sat by the table looking through some advertisements. Her son had gotten into trouble at school again for beating up a kid and nearly killing him. Quite frankly her son was expelled from school for the 5th time. She just couldn't understand what was wrong with him. She had received a phone call that morning from the principle telling her the news and she was furious. As soon as Trunks was told he wasn't surprised. He said he'd figure something out when he returned from work. He mumbled something about space travel doing him good, or something.

 

Trunks was about to leave for work when he received another phone call and stood talking to a colleague about something in their bedroom. Pulla just imagined him trying to say goodbye to the man on the other end of the line as he fidgeted with his tie.

 

Pulla sometimes regretted falling in love with a man that was more then human. Space flight didn't seem like an appropriate punishment for her son. Still, she flicked through the papers when she suddenly heard footsteps heading towards the door and then a knock. Hoping it wasn't a policeman, Pulla walked to the large Victorian-style door and placed her fingers on the cold metal, opening the door.

 

“Oh, Vegeta-san!”

 

She stepped back, quite frightened at her husband's father. He was always frowning and looked like he was just about ready to punch someone in the face. “What a pleasant surprise!” she managed to say, smiling. Vegeta hmphed. He sniffed the air and she knew he could smell breakfast that was still on the oak dining table. He let himself in after she stepped back to make way. He pulled a chair and sat down without regard of manners. She was just about to begin a conversation when Trunks appeared from the hallway (“right on cue!” she sighed in relief.)

 

Vegeta managed to stifle a laugh. His son had his hair ruffled and his tie had become crinkled. His face looked like he had just managed a long, non-negotiable negotiation. Trunks definitely had better days.

 

“Oh, Dad!” he said in surprise, “Ehh… help… yourself…?” he trailed off when Vegeta chomped down a large slice of toast with an egg on it. He reached for the salt and sprinkled it over the eggs. Then he grabbed a large fork and gulped it all down. Trunks ran his fingers through his hair, trying to get them out of his eyes, embarrassed. “Don't ask,” Trunks said to Pulla when she firmly put her hands on her hips, “Another business deal. This time it was Channel 6. A robot blew up a while ago and they can't find what's wrong with it. They were desperate for me to come down the studio today-”

 

“Where's the brat?” Vegata suddenly interrupted when he swallowed some beacon.

 

“Ehh… dad, he's not a brat…”

 

“Hm. Whatever! A Saiyan who can't even control his own children? Shameful.”

 

Trunks sighed and picked up his briefcase. “Dad, what are you doing here anyway?”

 

A whole jug of orange juice had disappeared and Vegeta grabbed from more food. “Bulma can't even get those useless kitchen robots fixed, so I came here for my breakfast. You still haven't answered my question though, where's the boy? Wait, let me guess. You don't know.”

 

Pulla went red.

 

“I thought so. Listen, just so you know Trunks, it's quite natural for a Saiyan to wander off and have the desire to fight and destroy things. I hope he manages to turn Super Saiyan 2 soon, coz he's much weaker then you were his age.”

 

Finished with his little speech, Vegeta stood up and headed for the door, the thought of thanking them for the meal didn't cross his mind. “You better show up later for training with that brat or I'll…”

 

Vegeta didn't bother finishing; his son looked like he didn't need anymore trouble. Treading over their lawn Vegeta left with his blue sparring clothes to go train. When Trunks couldn't sense his father's ki anymore Trunks gave Pulla a reassuring smile.

 

“He's not doing this because he's crazy.” He was talking about their son. “He just has trouble finding out who he is.” He looked at the newspaper clippings on the table. Suddenly a cocky smile spread on his face, “Those won't work you know. I still say a month in space is the best remedy. Let him blow up a few uninhabited planets.”

 

Letting her slender arms fall to her hips Pulla cried out in frustration. “Ooohh! You Saiyans drive me crazy!”

 

“In more ways then one,” Trunks teased her. Pulla just shoved him out the door and let it slam behind her violently.

 

 

****

 

 

“It was something that only a Namek could pick up. High pitched sounds like whistling disturb Nameks, so this sound must have been really bad to let Piccolo like this. He's still out cold. Dende, what do you think?”

 

“Well,” Dende, (now tall and lean) said while he looked at the room where Piccolo lay quietly, “I think the best thing is to just let Piccolo rest for a while. Though I can't imagine what came from the pod to cause such a screech. I don't think the government can handle it. They never do…”

 

Goten sat on the floor, supposedly in thought. “That's why we should find out for ourselves! I mean, what if it's another thing like Buu?”

 

“I agree,” Goku crossed his arms, “It's a mystery and I want to solve it. More then that, I want to fight against it!”

 

“Na uh! Not before I get my hands on it first!”

 

Dende, his voice soft, raised his arms defensively and said, “But don't you think that's a bit rash you two? I mean: this thing has no ki and you won't be able to find it in a facility so large!”

 

Their shoulders dropped in disappointed. It was actually funny looking at Goten and Goku, Goten who had decided to keep his hair Goku style, getting disappointed at the same time. The only difference with the two men was that girls were more important to Goten then fighting.

 

“Wait a minute! Bulma!”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Bulma!” Goku repeated with a wide grin on his face, “She can offer to help them! Then, when their not looking, we steal it from them!”

 

“Yes! Dad, you're a genius!”

 

A quiet wind blew over the lookout, Goku's hair rustling in the wind. He looked so sure of himself that Dende didn't know what to say. He was Kami, but reality of coarse was that he couldn't stop these two Saiyan men. Mr Popo broke the silence, “I think the two of you should try it. Right Dende?”

 

“Right.”

 

No more was said and the deal was made. Goten and Goku would find Bulma and steal the pod the moment they'd find it. Goten pointed out very wisely that they'd have to wear disguises or Bulma might get in trouble and the two of them would become convicts. Goku didn't think Chi Chi would be very happy about that.

 

A few moments later Goku and Goten arrived on the front lawn of Capsule Corp. The first person they saw was Bulma's mother watering the garden in her usual mini-skirt. She looked up when she spotted the two familiar faces.

 

“Golly, if it isn't Goku and his handsome son Goten! What brings you two here? I can prepare some tea and cookies if you'd like?”

 

“No that's fine, thank you!” Goku smiled and waving at the woman, “We've just come to talk to Bulma. You know where she is?”

 

“Oh well, she's very busy working on some robot stuff. She's in her lab.”

 

Thanking her and feeling very excited, Goku and Goten swiftly made it to Bulma's lab. Everybody who worked here knew their faces so it was much easier then the last time Goku wanted to see Bulma.

 

The double electronic doors whizzed open and Goku and Goten stepped into the illuminated workspace. It was a large room, a little messy, and Goku was already confused looking into her lab. Wires and screens hung from the walls, the `tick tick!' of people typing into their computers was but the smallest of audible sounds. Goku counted about a dozen other people working with Bulma, all of them wearing white lab coats and working frantically and in complete concentration. Here and there sparks were flying when a lady was cutting a chunk of titanium in the back of the work room. She had a curvy body and long flowing blond hair, and Goten let out a loud purr. “Well, hello there! Science isn't so boring anymore!' Goku looked at his son and rolled his eyes.

 

Then Bulma's blue eyes turned to him and she smiled. “Why, hello stranger! I haven't seen you in a while! What are you up to?”

 

Goku smiled, “Well, we actually came to ask you a favour,”

 

Prrrrrrrrrrr…prrrrrrrr…

 

Goku quickly elbowed Goten in the rib, embarrassed, “Son, stop it!” he whispered.

 

“Oh, sorry.”

 

Bulma raised her eyebrow and slowly crossed her arms, looking at Goku sceptically, “Yes? What kind of favour?”

 

Goku explained everything that happened so far.

 

“Ah yes, it was all over the news,” Bulma commented, “A robot exploded and then Piccolo suffered strain in the brain from high frequencies that came from the pod. But you know Goku, stealing is a crime.”

 

“Oh come on Bulma,” Goku whined childishly, “We always used to do it, remember? And remember when you didn't mind stealing Nappa's space pod last time? Huh, huh?”

 

“That was then Goku,” she explained as if it was the most simple and obvious thing in the world, (although she did want to get her hands on the mechanical parts in that thing) “I have a job now, I can't…” she instructed them to come closer and then whispered, “Steal from the government!”

 

She looked like that was final, but Goku wouldn't give up, “Come on Bulma! For an old friend! Remember all the times I saved your life!”

 

“That's not going to work on me Goku; I know you better then that!”

 

Goten suddenly started to purr again. The blond stopped cutting and took off her safety glasses. Goten thought he died and had gone to heaven. Her eyes were gorgeous and her lips were better then all the others he had ever kissed: these curved sensuously like every perfectly luscious arc on her body. She didn't wear any make up and her natural tones got Goten's heart pounding. She slowly wiped a sweat drop with her sleeve from her forehead. Goten gulped.

 

Goku watched his son and suddenly grinned, an idea popping in his head.

 

“Hey, Goten, you really like that girl huh? Yeah, she's pretty hot.”

 

Bulma looked at Goku cynically. What was he up to now?

 

“I wonder if she has a really high position in this place. She must be really smart to be working with Bulma. What would happen if she started dating you son?”

 

Goten was speechless.

 

Bulma suddenly realised where Goku was going with this, “Oh no! No, no, no, no NO! You're not black-mailing me Goku, we're very busy here! I can't allow one of my people to just stop working! We'd never finish this! You can't make Samantha stop working!”

 

“Samantha…” Goten repeated, his lips suddenly curving into a smile Vegeta-style.

 

“Wanna bet?” Goku smiled, pointing at Goten, “I mean, how can she resist him?”

Bulma's jaw dropped. How could he do this? Goku was getting better at black mailing people. Darn it, why did Goten have to be single?!

 

“Fine Goku, fine!” she heaved her hands in the air in defeat. Goku jumped elatedly and pointed the victory sign with his fingers to no one in particular. He grinned ear to ear.

 

****

 

The building was sky high and cleverly disguised as an advertising company. It shimmered in the sunlight, its structure strongly built and a little overwhelming. Around it was a very neat fleet of stairs and an expensive looking lawn with miniature fountains. Cars raced by as usual and the traffic honked and people rushed to work.

 

Three very confident people stood at the reception desk. One of those people whipped out a card that showed “Capsule Corp”. She swiftly and confidently explained her business, smiling with each sentence spoken. The woman at the reception removed her large glasses from her nose and cleaned them with her chubby fingers using her polka-dot shirt. She held the card, read it, and then she popped her glasses back on and looked sceptically from the woman to the two men in black suits. Her thin eyes had too much mascara which made her a little daunting and her lips were too small for her face. She wore a pungent aroma of dead roses or at least something that struck fear. With a deep, frigid voice she spoke into the microphone, calling her colleague as her stubby finger pressed onto a blue, slightly faded button, nearly crushing it.

 

“Harry Munch! The Vice-President of Capsule Corp has come to see you. She would like to see our latest selection of adverts for her company.”

 

She released her finger from the button and looked at the woman from the rim of her glasses, “He will be with you shortly.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Within a minute a large man stepped towards them with large, elephantine steps. He had messy hair and a black tuxedo. “I hear you want to look at our latest “selection.”” The man said and the woman nodded formerly.

 

“Righto, follow me and we'll be able to discuss this more privately.” He led them to an elevator and revealed a set of buttons from a hidden panel. He pressed into the one that had the number `9' on it. With a smooth nature the elevator took them underground. The machine then opened and he let the trio follow him through the massive, white-washed hallways. Each of them seemed wide enough for three cars and there were at least 100 doors that branched off into different divisions. Finally, they reached a large garage like door that was marked in giant letters: Sector 76.

 

“Cool!” One of the men let out.

 

“What was that?”

 

“Ehh, I meant: intriguing!” The man smiled sheepishly.

 

“Yes, quite impressive isn't it? Now, just allow me to… ahh here we go!” The man pressed his hand against some green goo that scanned his hand for finger-prints. A mechanical voice approved him and the doors opened.

 

Without wasting any time the man led them to the pod. The air was stale and the temperature chilly. A group of people were working around the pod, trying very hard to get it open. A split second later they all lay on the floor: unconscious.

 

“Wow Bulma! I didn't think it would work!”

 

“Neither did I.” she said a little irritated, removing her hand from her mouth and nose. On the floor lay a tiny ball, about the size of a marble which had sprayed a white clouded gas around the room. “Goku how could you make me do this?!”

 

“It's OK Bulma. Besides, you said that's a memory gas thing right? They won't remember we were ever here. Except maybe for that lady at the reception…”

 

Bulma suddenly smiled proudly, “Nope, she won't remember a thing either. In about,” she looked at her watch, “2 minutes she'll forget we ever visited. My ID card had a very powerful odour made from the same stuff this one's made of. Luckily for us she's short sited and had to remove her glasses and squint at the card or it might not have worked.”

 

“That's really smart Bulma,” Goten started in awe. Bulma couldn't agree more.

 

Anxiously the three of them stepped to the sphere. Goku placed his palm on its cold surface, and two fingers on his forehead. Goten and Bulma quickly grabbed a hold of him either side.

 

“Where are we taking it?” Goku asked.

 

“Grr, Goku I though we agreed Kami's Lookout!”

 

“Right… Ok!”

 

In an instant the three of them vanished.

 

****

 

Back on Kami's Lookout, Goten, Bulma, Mr. Popo and Dende leant over and watched as Goku slowly got the Pod doors open. Steam escaped the Pod from the sudden release and Goku let go of the Pod's rims. Automatically, the Pod began to open… Five pair of eyes stared curiously yet fearfully, each anticipating something quite different.

 

“Oh my God…” Goku spoke, horrified.

 

In the pod, nestled in individual cocoons, lay two very young children. Or to be more exact: snuggled in their own pair of semi-transparent cocoons, lay Goten and Trunks.

 

*********

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