Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Prince, Warrior, Killer, Slave ❯ A Soldier's Veiw ( Chapter 3 )

Chapter Two: A Soldier’s View

A five man team of Saiyan warriors lounged near the launch pad on Frieza’s Planet #43 watching the ships come and go while they waited for permission to take liberty on the planet.

“Hey Bardock! Take a look, isn’t that guy one of our Elites?” A heavy-set male asked jerking his thumb toward two spherical pods which had just come to rest on the springy catch-pads.

The group’s laconic commanding officer let his chair settle back on all four legs then glanced in the direction indicated. A tall warrior with a shock of black hair sitting on top of his head as if it didn’t know what it was doing there had climbed out of the first pod and was all but wringing his hands as he waited anxiously for his companion to debark. Bardock’s eyes widened slightly. “Hell, I know who that is. And if he’s here that means...”Bardock trailed off as his gaze fixed itself on the second pod.

The rest of the team took note of their commander’s unusual degree of interest and turned their attention toward the new arrivals as well.

The second pod hissed open and a much smaller figure hopped out. A puddle of blood started forming at the smaller fighter’s feet.

“Vegeta you have to get to the infirmary now!” the Elite insisted.

“Oh stop being such a hen Nappa!” the smaller fighter snapped. “I already told you it’s not mine.”

“Did he say ‘Vegeta’?” the team’s lone female exclaimed. “As in Prince Vegeta?”

“Shush Celipa, I’m eavesdropping,” Bardock remarked.

Zarbon, Frieza’s second, joined the Saiyan Prince and his towering bodyguard on the launch pad. “You’re not reported to Lord Frieza in that condition,” the emerald haired man announced.

Vegeta grinned and shook himself off like a dog. Blood sprayed everywhere. Zarbon leapt back fastidiously.

“I think I like this kid,” Celipa remarked. “He’s cute.”

“Thinking of getting one of your own?” the heavy set fighter asked.

Celipa looked him up and down then grinned mischievously. “Maybe... I f I get a better offer then you Panbookin.”

“Aww, I’m wounded,” Panbookin laughed.

“You donated eggs right?” the towering, bald fighter remarked.

“Like it’s voluntary,” Celipa snorted. “‘Not enough females make it to maturity. Maintain sufficient genetic diversity, blah, blah, blah. What’s your point Borgos?” she snapped.

“Well, I was just thinking, you’ve probably got kids. If you asked you could probably find them.”

“That doesn’t count,” Panbookin said. “If you want count that then we’ve all got kids, it’s not like actually finding a mate and all. Speaking of that- Hey Bardock heard anything about your brat?”

Celipa punched him in the shoulder. “Idiot,” she hissed in his ear. “The kid still hasn’t made it back from his first assignment.”

Bardock waved off the inquiry and continued watching the scene unfolding on the launch pad.

The young prince had turned on one of the fire-hoses around the launch area and was giving himself an impromptu shower. “Sufficiently presentable?” the boy asked sarcastically.

Zarbon turned up his nose. “How did you manage to get yourself in that condition.”

The boy shrugged. “You said there were warriors worth fighting on that planet. I was conserving my ki for them... but I never found anyone worth expending it on. Next time try to find a challenging assignment for me.”

Bardock’s second grinned at the rest of the team. “You guys haven’t heard? Bardock’s kid is why we’re getting leave.”

Celipa forgot all about the young prince. “What do mean Toma?”

“A patrol picked up the kid’s pods a few days ago,” Toma said. “The kid’s primary implants got screwed up, probably hit his head or something. We’re intercepting them so Bardock can be the one to trigger his back-ups.”

“Is Ko-n going to be coming too?” Celipa asked curiously.

“Naw,” Bardock said. “Her team’s on a long campaign against the Starch Empire. Ko-n’s team and eleven other lower level teams are backing six elite fighters.”

“Sounds like a real war,” Toma said.

Bardock grinned proudly. “Ko-n says she’s teaching her Elite a few things about tactics.”

Celipa rolled her eyes, she knew from experience that Bardock could happily go on about his mate’s missions for hours. “So you’re on your own with the ankle-biter,” she commented. “Now don’t you wish you’d gone to see him before he got shipped out?”

“Nope.”

“Bardock!”

“Oh give him a break Celipa,” Toma said. “The return rate for infant missions is less than thirty percent.”

“What do you expect,” Bardock said irritably. “We send brats with below average power-levels and nothing more than implanted memories to fall back on. Of course, most of them die.”

Two days later Bardock found himself walking down a long featureless hall on his way to meet his nine-year-old son for the first time.

“Bardock,” the medical technician greeted him.

“Where is he?” Bardock asked tersely.

The med tech jerked his thumb toward a holding cell. “We told you the kid got a bit banged up and that some of the memory implants haven’t taken hold. You know how to trigger the back ups right?”

“Give him his name; try to get him to report on his mission. If all else fails fall back on racial pride, ‘cause Saiyan generally have plenty of that,” Bardock said.

“Yeah, that’s the drill,” the med tech said. “He remembered enough to complete his mission and get his pod back into space but he doesn’t have conscious access to the Saiyan-jin memory implants.”

“So he doesn’t know that he’s with his own people,” Bardock surmised. “He’ll still be acting under his mission parameters which tell him that everyone is an enemy.”

The med tech nodded.

Bardock walked across the room to watch his son through the one-way observation window. The boy was pacing the room like a caged animal, the wild mane of black hair cascading down his back added to the air of ferality about him. Bardock chuckled softly, “He inherited his mother’s hair,” he said to himself. “Ko-n’s gonna skin me; she hates her hair.”

“Um, sir?”

“Never mind,” Bardock said waving off the man. He triggered the door and walked inside to confront his son.

At the sound of the door opening the boy spun around and tried to make a break for it. Bardock thwarted his effort and the boy withdrew into a corner with a warning snarl at Bardock.

“ ‘Lo Radditz, I’m Bardock,” the older Saiyan said. “How’d things go on the planet? Fight anyone fun?”

The boy looked puzzled. “Who?”

“Radditz, that’s you,” Bardock reiterated. “No one’s told you your name before but you know it don’t you? You are Radditz of Vegeta-sai, a Saiyan.”

The boy’s eyes went distant for a moment. “Yess,” he hissed almost as if the word were being forced from him.

“Give it a minute,” Bardock advised. “Let the memories settle.”

“Bardock, my father?” Radditz asked after a few minutes.

‘Yep, that would be me,” Bardock confirmed. “So how’d things go on the planet?”

“Took too long,” Radditz complained. “Too long of a lunar cycle, too much hiding.”

“You hid between full moons? Smart boy,” Bardock praised.

Radditz relaxed slightly.

“It’s maddening when the mission objectives are pounding through your brain but the direct route isn’t the smart one. I’m proud you fought it,” Bardock told the boy. “Better to take a bit longer and get the job done than to rush in and end up dead; do that and they’re prepared for the next poor sap who pulls the assignment.”

“They weren’t strong but they had machines,” Radditz explained. He held up a badly scarred arm for Bardock to see. “They hurt me.”

Bardock took the boy’s arm. He ran his fingers over the scar as he gently straightened and rotated the limb. “Lost a little mobility huh? Well we can get that fixed up.” He gestured to the scar on his face. “I kept this one ‘cause it looked cool but it’s best to have your full range of movement huh?”

Radditz nodded. The longer he was with his father the more he ‘remembered’ him. “I’m Saiyan?” he asked.

“Yep, best warriors in the galaxy,” Bardock confirmed. “I’ll introduce you to my team later. When you get back to Vegeta-sai you’ll be assigned to your own team.”

Bardock grinned when he saw Radditz’s expression. He knew the boy was thinking about all the times it would have been good to have some one to watch his back. “You’ll see more of them then you’ll see of your mom or I,” Bardock commented.

“Mother? Ko’n right?” Radditz asked.

Bardock nodded. “Your memories are coming back just fine,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Wait a minute,” the med tech called when Bardock led Radditz out of the isolation cell. “He needs a full check up before he can go anywhere.”

Bardock sighed and ruffled his son’s hair. “I guess we’ll have to catch-up later. Don’t give the doctors too hard of a time.”

Radditz grinned mischievously. Bardock chuckled.

Bardock left the infirmary and headed back his team’s assigned quarters. He found Celipa pacing angrily back and forth across the room while the other three watched her.

“He’s just a baby!” Celipa exclaimed angrily.

Bardock glanced toward Toma for clarification.

“Prince Vegeta was sparring against Zarbon,” he said quietly.

“A six-year-old against Lord Frieza’s right hand?” Bardock asked.

Panbookin shrugged. “Yeah it was a pretty uneven match-up. The kid’s a real powerhouse for his age and he’s got spirit but it was still a slaughter.”

“Training match my ass!” Celipa exclaimed. “That was just an excuse to beat him unconscious.”

“The kid kept standing back up again,” Panbookin said. “You gotta respect him for that. Busted leg, dislocated shoulder and he got back up for more.”

“Would have been smarter to stay down,” Toma said quietly to Bardock. “You could see that big bodyguard of his praying for him to stay down.”

“I suppose a Prince has got to have his pride.” Bardock said. “And it takes a rare kid to know when they’re out-matched.”

“Something about that kid though,” Toma said. “I wouldn’t want to be Zarbon when Vegeta comes into his full power. I think our prince has a long memory.”

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