Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Playing Raditz's Game ❯ Utility Player ( Chapter 4 )

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

The time for escape was over. If she had started the moment Goku turned coat and fled, maybe she could have disappeared into inhabitable space. Now it was impossible. She was a genius, not a miracle worker. Even she couldn't ready a ship out of the ashes Raditz was creating from her home.

The full moon had fallen during the night after she had spoken to Raditz about Goku and Gohan and now it was waxing again, the promise of a transformation so terrible that no one would be left alive. There were barely any survivors the first time and Bulma suspected they had been allowed to live for sport. All of the great cities were gone and there was no way of communicating with the small towns and villages that remained. Bulma herself was one of only a handful of survivors from West City. She and her father had hid themselves away with a few of Capsule Corp's chief scientists in an underground bunker her father kept, but midway through Raditz's rampage it had collapsed, burying them in debris. Only Bulma had clawed her way out and that had taken her hours if not days. When she emerged she was weak and injured. Her ankle was still swollen and she could not lift her left arm higher than her shoulder, but she was alive.

For now at least.

She had been living in the least-scathed part of the wilderness east of her former home for six days after the full moon when she saw Raditz again outside of her little capsule house. There were enough supplies to last her ultimate end in less than a month's time stowed away in her dyno caps. She was almost living in luxury hidden away in the woods, camping out like she had as a teenager when she found Goku living in the mountains. Thinking about him brought a smile to her face. He had been so strong even as a little kid, and so incredibly innocent.

And he had never lost that, not until the very end.

Bulma was in total reverie when Raditz appeared suddenly, silently, and without warning.

“Thinking about me?” he jeered, rousing her from her daydream. The smile she wore slipped slowly from her face and she struggled to keep fear from replacing it. She gritted her teeth.

“Hardly.”

The Saiyan chuckled, approaching her makeshift home. “This is really something that you've built here,” he remarked, running a hand across the cool metal of the building. “How did you manage it so quickly?”

“I didn't, it's a dyno cap,” she responded dully, crossing her arms over her chest. “It's basic technology.”

Raditz frowned. “Interesting.”

He rapped his knuckles against the house frame once or twice and a cool metallic ring filled the air. Silence followed. The forest around them was quiet and still and Bulma shifted her weight from foot to foot nervously. This was the first time that Raditz had sought her out instead of the opposite way around. She felt exposed; it was okay for her to instigate contact, but for Raditz to seek her was something else entirely. He paced around the house for a moment or two longer examining it then turned to examine her.

“You're hurt,” he said bluntly, taking in her injuries. Bulma looked down at her still-swollen ankle. Yes, she was hurt, and in addition to that her skin was riddled with nicks and bruises, no thanks to him. And she told him so, which only served to make him laugh. He rubbed his eye, “Feisty one, aren't you?”

Bulma drew back. “What do you want, Raditz?”

“Nothing,” the Saiyan insisted. He took a seat on the doorstep of her home. “Did I injure you?”

It was Bulma's turn to laugh. “No, I fell down some stairs.”

“The Oozaru transformation can be difficult to control,” he said as if it were an apology, as if it were okay. Bulma didn't accept it.

“What do you want?” she asked again. She didn't think Raditz was the type to pay meaningless house calls.

“Nothing,” he reiterated. “Truly.”

Maybe he means it, Bulma thought. “It's been longer than a week.”

“Hm?”

“It's been longer than a week,” Bulma repeated. Her voice held more confidence this time. “Last time I spoke to you, you said you'd destroy this place in a week or less. But you haven't and I'm still here.”

“And who's to say you aren't all that remains and I've come to finish the job?”

It was a battle to keep the fear from her face. “I –  I – you're lying.”

Raditz smirked, “I am. But I will come to you for that purpose eventually.”

“Then why not just kill me now and be done with it?” she asked evenly.

“Because,” Raditz said, standing up. He towered over her. “Where would the fun be in that?”

It wasn't hard for Bulma to imagine the types of things the Saiyan lording over her would find fun and none of them matched her definition of the word. Her eyes caught the motion of Raditz's tail thrashing behind him and she looked away, sucking her lip. She needed a cigarette.

“There wouldn't be any,” she answered bitterly.

Raditz clapped, “Such a smart woman. See, this is why I'd like to keep you.”

Keep you. The phrase sent shivers down Bulma's spine. He sounded alarmingly sincere. Literal. Like he would take her as a possession if he could. She wondered what was keeping him back from taking her. Whoever kept his kind in check was a being Bulma hoped never to tangle with if she could help it. From what she had seen and experienced, Raditz was too strong to take orders lightly. She watched h
him carefully as he seemed to lose interest in her, his attention once more falling to her house.

“You don't have to do this,” she said at length. Even she could hear the hopefulness dripping from her voice and she hated herself for her own transparency.

“Don't be ridiculous,” Raditz scoffed, “I want to.”  

Bulma didn't believe him and told him so. His fingers closed around her throat so quickly she never saw him move.

“You will regret this,” he taunted darkly. He was close enough that she felt his warm breath on her cheek, heavy and agitated.

Bulma struggled against him and his grip tightened. She couldn't breathe and she realized that Raditz was going to kill her. She had finally insulted him enough,  had goaded him into action. She couldn't find that she regretted it. Her vision was clouding and her consciousness was beginning to slip when he dropped her. Her injured ankle screamed in protest at the drop; Bulma hadn't even realized Raditz had lifted her from the ground. Gingerly she felt the bones and breathed a quick sigh of relief that they weren't broken.  

When she looked back up, Raditz was already gone and she cried. She had wished so much that he would just kill her and get it all over with sooner rather than later. She was too cowardly – or perhaps too brave – to do it herself. He kept letting her go. Showing her mercy. Prolonging her life. Why couldn't he afford the same courtesy to the rest of her planet? Was it some sort of joke to him, a game of emotions? Did it satisfy him to see her suffer? Probably, she thought. She stood up and moved slowly towards the house that had to interested her Saiyan conqueror and took refuge inside.

She only wanted it to end.


Initiating landing sequence.

Goku awoke to the sound of the pod's AI informing him of its every move. Groggily, he rubbed his eyes and looked out the red glass window of the pod at a small, swampy looking planet. He blinked rapidly. Where was he? How had he gotten here? The last thing he remembered was fighting with Raditz to get Gohan back. A rising feeling of panic flooded the young father.

Gohan!

Goku's panic was short lived. His son was comfortably curled up in his lap, thumb in mouth and still asleep. Sighing he allowed himself a moment of reprieve. Gohan was safe. He hadn't killed those people in vain But where was he? Around him the metal shell of the pod began to vibrate with turbulence and Goku braced himself as well as he could, clutching Gohan's sleeping frame tightly. The boy began to stir, eyelids cracking open slowly.

“Daddy?” the boy asked uncertainly.

Goku shushed him, “It's okay, Gohan. We're going to be fine.”

The child ducked his face against his father's chest as the pod landed roughly, jolting the pair of them. Gohan began to wail and Goku was attempting to comfort him as the door hissed open. A scaly alien peered inside.

“Welcome, Kakarrot,” he greeted sinisterly, “to Purging Station 2414.”

Goku retreated into the pod as far as it would allow, “Who are you?” he asked above Gohan's cries.

The being smiled and showed far too many teeth, stepping aside for a much larger alien to have a look. He was enormous with thick muscles and a height that dwarfed everyone and everything around him. He reached into the pod and grabbed Goku roughly by the shoulder, hoisting him and Gohan out.

“I'm Nappa,” he introduced, setting Goku on his feet. “You've been assigned to me.”

Goku blinked, looking around the hangar. There were pods and ships everywhere with strange creatures pouring in or out of them. “Where am I?”

“Purging Station 2414,” Nappa answered, repeating the information that had already been relayed by the scaly alien. “This place will be your home until you have been fully trained and given commission. I have been assigned as your trainer at your brother's request.”

So Raditz had sent them here to become what he was – a monster who annihilated planets for money. “Sorry,” said Goku, “but I'm going to have to say no.”

Nappa chuckled, “You misunderstand, Kakarrot. You don't have any other option.”

Goku stared the giant Saiyan down. “There's always a choice.”

“Not this time,” Nappa said flatly. “Delgren, take the child. Prince Vegeta will be along shortly to collect it.”

The scaly alien began attempting to wrestle Gohan his father's arm. When Goku tried to fight back he found his body weakened from his time spent hibernating in the pod, the creature called Delgren was able to overpower him. It bit him hard on the neck, fangs sinking into the tender fleshy and administering a mild poison that would cause a lapse in muscle control. Goku's eyes filled with alarm as all expression faded from his face along with his ability to move. He began to fall and Delgren easily plucked Gohan away from him.

“No... wait...” Goku gasped, fighting hard against the venom in his veins. Nappa picked him up and slung him over his shoulder roughly. His head lolled to the side and Goku found himself staring at a very amused and very upside down Delgren.

“Relax, Kakarrot. Delgren is in command of this place. He oversees all of this –” he gestured around the hangar “– and none of it ever goes awry. He's trustworthy. He'll take care of your whelp.”

Nappa continued, carrying Goku out of the hangar and leaving Gohan behind as he did so. Immobilized, Goku screamed inside of his own skull. “Your brat will be in our Prince's care. It hasn't been decided yet what will be done with him, but you know how it is. Higher ups never have a clear plan when it comes to us Saiyans. They just close their eyes and hope for the best. He's safe for now, though, so don't you go doing anything stupid. You come from idiot stock, if your dumbass of a brother hadn't already brought you to that conclusion. It's in your best interest for you to try to differentiate yourself from Raditz. We can't stand to have another weakling in our midst.”

Goku's only response was a steady thwack thwack thwack as his head bounced with each step against the burlier Saiyan's side. While his body was still his mind ran, trying to understand and digest everything that Nappa was telling him. Gohan was going to be wherever this prince was and would be safe for now. That fact alone set Goku at ease. Somewhat. He felt inclined to trust Nappa,  who spoke easily about the situation and seemed to have a good grasp on what was going on and what would happen next. Goku already knew he would have to find Gohan and escape this place – he just didn't know how he would do that.

Nappa stopped walking and Goku listened as he pressed a handful of buttons and opened a door. It was a dark and tiny bedroom with two bunks, one of which Nappa dumped him on unceremoniously. Goku stared at the ceiling.

“Remain here,” Nappa ordered. “Delgren's  toxins should be wearing off in fifteen to twenty minutes. I will return by then with new uniforms for you. When you are able, you will dress and we will begin your training in Arena 3.”

Nappa left and the door closed behind him, cloaking the room in darkness. There was nothing to do but wait. Impatiently, Goku began to test his poisoned muscles. Within five minutes he was able to flex his fingers and he smiled into the nothing. Nappa hadn't expected Goku begin making a recovery from Delgren's attack for at least another ten minutes. But he could already move his fingers, and he could feel pinpricks all over the rest of his awakening body. Nappa had underestimated his strength.

Goku formed a fist. Good.


“You don't have to do this,” Bulma pleaded, her brittle human nails catching the tense flesh of his arm as she tried vainly to hold him back. “You're so strong, Raditz. You don't have to do some tyrant's bidding... you don't have to kill these people. Not really, you don't.”

Raditz blinked slowly. This woman was obviously delusional. He wasn't strong, not by a long shot. He had been kept weak by the Cold Empire, made sacrifices out of his own body to ensure the welfare of his prince. Vegeta was strong; Vegeta would stand against the Colds. Not him. Raditz was weak. But he would concede it felt... nice to hear his praise from her mouth.

“No one can make you a killer,” she whispered.

Raditz looked down at her, at her tangled pale blue hair and her welling eyes. Her lip was torn where he  had pushed her away, and her clothes ripped from the struggles she had endured. But the way she looked at him... such sadness, and such hopefulness.

She really believed he would stop and spare these people.

Raditz relaxed and for just a moment, he allowed himself to believe that she believed in him.

“I will spare them,” he said at length. “I will spare your home if you return with me to mine.”

Bulma reeled back and away from him as if she had been burned, and Raditz regretted the offer immediately. Of course she wouldn't come with him. He had killed all her friends and over 90 percent of her planet's population. In her eyes he was villainous. In his own eyes he was villainous, and he couldn't change that no matter how much ill-placed faith the woman had in him. She bit her bleeding lip and Raditz turned away from her.

“You promise not to kill them?” she called softly.

“On my honor,” Raditz swore emptily without looking back.

“Okay.”

Her voice was once again hollow. Resigned. Accepting. Raditz had no desire for her this way, not really. He should destroy this final city and finish his brother's task. He should annihilate Bulma along with the last of her planet's population. But he already knew he would do neither of those things. He could not – would not – kill the little blue woman. And he would not kill her people, either, because he would not kill the faith the woman had in him. It was the naïve faith of earth's people that had conquered Kakarrot, Raditz understood that now. And he had willingly let it conquer him.