Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Ransom Due ❯ Aliens Among Us ( Chapter 6 )

Ranson Due - Chapter 6 - “Aliens Among Us” (or “Gohan Demonstrates Phone Etiquite”)

 

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“No. Absolutely not.” Tenshinhan gave Lunch another sidelong glance. He seemed to have decided that it was no use pretending to be concentrating on flying the small capsule plane. “I can't understand why on earth you would request such a thing. Piccolo hasn't caused any trouble in so many years now, and I'm not ready to be the one to spur him on to it.” He exhaled sharply and added under his breath as an aside, “just give me time, though.”

 

-Here we go again.- Just upon hearing his voice, Kushami's first reaction was an overwhelming urge to just jump into Tenshinhan's arms; if she'd had control over anything going on. Unfortunately, whatever was causing her to retain consciousness while her other personality was in control did not allow her much else than auditory awareness. If she could have, she still wouldn't have actually jumped into Ten's arms. Sure, she liked the guy - a lot - even after they'd argued so bitterly years ago, but that didn't mean she was just going to throw herself at him. However, it didn't make it any less desirable. Of course now he was pulling his `Mr. Protective' shtick again, something she could certainly do without. If she'd had eyes to roll she would have. -I'm … she's not a baby!-

 

“Can you just tell me where he is, at least?” Lunch restlessly chewed at her thumbnail, then thought better of it. She resorted to intently examining her hand. “Please?” She tried to make the request come out as sweetly as possible, but she didn't appear to be gaining any ground. She had tried to pull off the usual routine, but she found she couldn't look Ten in the face. Guilt loomed menacingly in that, not only because she was aware enough to witness the carnage at the museum. Giving in and just letting everyone on Earth, including your best friends, get killed was one thing from light years out in space. It was quite another matter when you were looking right at them. I didn't have any other choice, she thought, trying to be firm. Unfortunately it felt like a horribly feeble excuse at this point.

 

-Ha, ha. Please, tell me another one! There were plenty of choices…-

 

“Why do you think I'd let you go alone if I wouldn't even go myself?” Ten asked in a steady tone. The only real hint of incredulousness he'd shown so far was when she'd first made the request. At least one of them was firmly in control of their emotions. Chao-tzu hadn't stopped staring at her, eyes as big as saucers, since they'd gotten in the plane. Ten turned and looked directly at her this time. “As strange as this sounds in present company, you really don't seem to be acting yourself, Ranchi.” He put a slight emphasis on the last, is if to drive his point home. “I'm taking you over to Kame house. Maybe you should just get some rest. I'm sure Muten Roshi will be happy to accommodate you.”

 

“But it's really important,” she said, mostly to the clouds racing by outside the craft's window. And I really don't want to face everyone who's over there right now, she added privately. She didn't bother pressing the matter, though. She could tell Ten had made up his mind. She resorted to crossing her arms in front of her and pouting, but she already knew it wouldn't help any.

 

-Starting to feel remorseful now, are we, Ranchi?- Kushami hissed mentally, also stressing the last. -You don't know me, but you can bet your sweet ass I know you.-

 

Kushami couldn't see what was going on in the small cockpit of the capsule plane, but she could hear every word. This eavesdropping on her other self had started happening shortly after her first visit to the medical bay on Missionary, but she had assumed, being the dominant personality, that it was her talent exclusively. The fool med tech had assured her that the effects of the experimental serum would eventually wear off, and that all the talk of cranial meltdown was an over exaggeration meant to throw off her master in the event of an early breakdown of the results - which were supposed to be a reduction in the spontaneity of the personality changes. Nobody had said anything about such side effects, although being able to sporadically listen in on what she had previously perceived as black outs had come in useful, particularly in getting the whole “Kakarott” story straight. She had no idea how her `counterpart' had broken through, made herself visible even! It just wasn't right. -Damn it, I'm stronger! … and you should keep that in mind before you start trying to execute my plans. You'll only screw it up, anyway.-

 

Chao-tzu blinked several times. He leaned in a little bit closer from the back seat of the plane, as if to verify that he wasn't just hearing things randomly. Then he continued his disbelieving stare, his eyes even wider than before.

 

-Leave me alone,- Ranchi shot back -As far as I can tell your plans got screwed up a long time ago.-

 

-Oh, but I'm nowhere near finished! You just wait…-

 

-For what? I know what you want to do, and it's no better than what I would have let happen…-

 

-At least I've made an attempt at slowing things down. Ha! You would have just lain on that slab and died…-

 

-I wouldn't have been on that slab in the first place if it wasn't for you and your lack of any sense of trepidation. Going off like that at someone who you know could snap you in two without even trying!-

 

-Heh. Yeah, that was classic, wasn't it?- So, she had been spying, the little wretch! - In a place where conventional bullets proved ineffective, I used what ammunition was available.-

 

Chou-tzu's jaw dropped open. To anyone looking, it would have seemed that his face had grown a shade or two whiter than it already was. It looked as though Lunch were just sitting, intently staring ahead, but he could hear the raging argument clearly as if she'd been speaking to herself aloud. She shut her eyes as if she were taking up the idea of having a nap, but the clash of voices continued. “Tenshinhan,” he whispered, tugging gently on his the green silk of his friend's tunic. “Something's not right… not right at all.”

 

Lunch turned around to look at Chou-tzu in the back seat. She smiled innocently and gave him a reassuring pat, trying desperately to cover up the sense of unease that had seemed to be overwhelming her since she found herself on Earth. “Don't worry Chou-tzu, everything's just fine,” she said.

 

-Yes, if royally fucked up is what constitutes fine ...-

 

Chou-tzu scooted back in his seat. As friendly as Lunch's intent may have been, he couldn't help but see the intimidating leer of her other personality behind the gentle smile. Either something terrible had happened out in space to cause the two hitherto separate personalities to blend, or something terrible would result from it. He found the fact that he was picking up on her thoughts strange in and of itself, but it felt like she was unintentionally psychically broadcasting, and he had no way of tuning it out, though the argument seemed to desist once he'd made it apparent that he was aware of it. He wondered if maybe there wasn't something he could do to help.

 

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Bulma wiped sweat from her brow as she wrestled with dissecting another part of the space pod. It was amazing that what looked like such straightforward construction turned out to be so complicated on further inspection. The thing had somehow been assembled like an onionskin. Every time she thought she would get another chunk of the electronics systems free from the bulk of the craft, she just seemed to expose another layer of criss-crossed wires and chipboards encircling the space within the spherical outer and inner hulls. She sighed heavily and flicked the switch on her soldering gun back to the on position to tackle the next nest of connections. Suddenly sparks plumed out of the area she was working on. “Cripes!” she jumped back a little, relieved that she'd opted to wear safety goggles at her father's insistence, hoping that the light show wasn't the prelude to some kind of explosion. As she was getting ready to have another go with the soldering gun, what looked like a small holographic image flickered into view before her.

 

The wavering image displayed what had to be the interior of another craft like the one she was working on. An occupied craft. Although she couldn't help but notice the streaks of starlight visible outside the one porthole, the thing had to be moving very quickly, she really couldn't take her eyes off the solitary traveler. He appeared to be in a deep sleep. Even so, his mouth turned downward slightly in a petulant scowl, as though he was involved in proving something to someone on whatever landscape his dreams took place. His harsh features may have been somewhat softened in his slumber, but there was still an obvious unabated determination in the set of the closed eyelids above the high cheekbones. Jet-black hair swept upward from an exaggerated widow's peak at his forehead, and similarly from the exposed nape of his neck. He wore an instrument over one eye and ear like the one Lunch had arrived with. Her suspicions about the impending alien visitation were confirmed when she realized the thing wrapped tightly around his waist was in fact a furry brown tail.

 

Aside from the tail and the wild hair, appearance wise this guy didn't have much more in common with Goku. Heck, judging by the way the entirety off his frame, though clearly muscular, only half-filled the interior of the pod, she figured he couldn't have been taller than five foot four. Goku would loom over this guy by a head if not more. Maybe they didn't have so much to worry about. The arrogant little frown was actually kind of cute.

 

A small light began to blink behind the man, and abruptly his eyes popped open. The scowl deepened into a full-fledged grimace, as he appeared to say something, then the frown slowly spread into a broad smile that was nothing short of evil. A short scream escaped Bulma as she realized that there might have been a corresponding image of her transmitted to the distant pod. She fumbled with the soldering gun and finally just knocked at the glob holding the wires in place, shower of sparks be damned, until the image disappeared.

 

“What's that you say, Bulma?” Asked Dr. Briefs from the other side of the pod.

 

“Nothing, just,” she realized her heart was racing as though the alien could have reached through the hologram and struck her. “I just think I need a little break here. I'm going to go and get a glass of water or something. Be right back.”

 

She was about to step away from the pod when on impulse she picked up a pair of wire cutters an severed every connection to the piece she'd just been working on. She stood and crossed he arms over her chest and stared the thing down for a moment, somehow reassuring herself with the gesture and a slight “humph!”

 

As she headed back towards Roshi's small house she realized that she did recognize what looked like an IR port within the tangle of wires she'd just laid waste to. There must be some kind of interface with the device the aliens wore. Maybe if she'd had one, she would have been able to hear what the man had said. Maybe it would have given a clue as to how long they had to prepare. The image of that malevolent smile suddenly replayed itself in her mind's eye. She shuddered involuntarily. On second thought, maybe it was best that there wasn't any sound.

 

When she entered the house, the ringing of the phone interrupted her thoughts. She was about to tell Roshi to get it, no sense in being rude and just picking it up herself, but she found him with his nose about six inches from the television screen, totally engrossed in some kind of exercise program featuring several women scantily clad in leotards. Oolong, home from his trip to the mainland, was jockeying for a better view of the screen.

 

“Hi Bulma,” said Oolong, barely turning around. “Phone's ringing. You wanna get that?”

 

“I noticed,” she huffed in return and went to answer the phone. When she got over to the receiver she noted the indicator for incoming video was flashing. As she answered she momentarily realized that what she'd just walked away from outside was eerily similar, but as the screen flashed to life only the familiar face of Son Chi-Chi greeted her.

 

“Oh, Bulma. Hello.” Ch- Chi smiled warmly. “It's been such a long while since we've talked.” She seemed distracted for a moment, her attention directed to something out of the view of the screen. “Yes, sweetie, just a moment …” She turned her attention back to Bulma. “Looks like your little reunion party got started a bit earlier than planned?'

 

“Well, yes,” Bulma replied, unsure of whether to go into detail about the nature of the situation at hand. Chi-Chi interrupted her before she got a chance to elaborate.

 

“Are you alright, you look as though you've been upset by something?”

 

“Oh, no, not really. Something rather uh, technical has turned up and my father and I have been working on it for the better part of the day. I guess I'm just a little tired, that's all.” Bulma fumbled about to change the subject. “So, uh, you've been quite the stranger for like, the last several years. Something been keeping you and Goku busy up there in the mountains? Surely it can't be as hectic as it is in the city?”

 

“Well, actually,” Chi-Chi's face lit up with an almost devious smile, then she turned toward something off screen again. “It's OK. Yes, Miss Bulma is very nice. OK.”

Chi-Chi moved aside and the momentarily empty scene was filled with the image of a small boy. He nervously stared at the carpet before looking up and then very pointedly cleared his throat and bowed politely.

 

“Hello Miss Bulma. This is Son Gohan speaking and I was wondering if I could speak with my Dad, Son Goku?” He` looked off screen as if he were checking for approval for only a second before appending his greeting. “Please.” He then gave a little half-smile before retreating off screen in the direction of his mother. Chi-Chi's image then filled the screen again, this time with the child firmly seated in her lap, although he seemed to be trying to bury his face in her shoulder.

 

“I suppose you could say we've been a little busy up here,” said Chi-Chi happily.

 

“Oh, wow,” Bulma exclaimed, “I can't believe Goku didn't say anything! I'm so happy for you! He's absolutely adorable!” She was reminded that she hadn't answered the boy's question. She made sure the tone of her voice was as gentle as possible before addressing him. “Gohan, honey, your dad's…” and then she noticed something brown and furry wrapped snugly around Chi-Chi's forearm, which seemed to relax and slide off in an almost serpentine manner as the boy apparently decided she wasn't a threat after all and faced the video apparatus.

 

… from outer space and oh my God, you're part alien! Her inner voice was almost screaming all of a sudden, but she managed to keep her tone steady and gentle “he's not right here at the moment, see, uh, he and his friend Kuririn have gone off to do some, um, catching up…”

 

Chi-Chi sighed heavily. “Oh, Bulma, you don't have to cover up for him. I guessed they'd be out sparring or something. As long as he doesn't influence Gohan by doing that stuff around the house I suppose there's no helping that. Just have him call as soon as he gets back, which will hopefully be soon because I always get this little one off to bed early and he'd sure like to say goodnight to his father.”

 

“He always goes to bed early you say? Like before moonrise early? That's good to know.” Gohan squirmed a little in his mother's lap, not oblivious that he'd become the main subject of the conversation.

 

“Well, yes, of course, Bulma. He's not even four years old yet and I want to instill good habits so that he has plenty of energy for his studies. Can you believe he's already reading at…” She stopped for a moment, her eyes narrowing with concern. “Are you sure you're alright? You really don't look well.”

 

“It's been a long day. Perhaps I should get some rest myself. I'll make sure to pass the message on to Goku to give you a call. It was nice talking to you.” She decided to try and save some face and forced a smile “and it was very nice to meet you, too Gohan.”

 

“OK, then, I suppose we'll talk later. We could stand to do some catching up ourselves. It was nice talking to you after all this time as well.” Chi Chi nudged the boy gently.

 

“It was my pleasure to meet you, Miss Bulma,” said the boy as he smiled innocently. “Goodnight.”

 

As the screen went black, a million things raced through Bulma's mind all at once. What if the alien invasion Lunch had come back from space to warn them about had already begun, right in front of them? Goku had always been unbelievably strong, they'd always marveled at that fact, all of them, but nobody had even considered the possibility that he just didn't belong on Earth. All those times he'd happened to look upon the full moon and changed into what could be described in no uncertain terms as a monster, what of that? What if it was no accident? Left unchecked, how long would it take for one of those things to completely wipe out the human race? What about two of them? More? What if the whole reason he was here was to eventually breed an army of monsters to take over the planet? What if…

 

The sound of the front door opening jolted her out of her thoughts. She looked up and there stood Kuririn, with Goku right behind him.

 

“Oh, Bulma, your dad was just asking for us to find out what's taking you so long,” said Kuririn, obviously a little winded from the training session. “I think he's decided to give up on taking the spaceship apart and wants to just transport the whole thing over to the corporation.”

 

“Is there anything to eat in there?” asked Goku when it seemed Kuririn was finished speaking. “That was quite a warm up,” he looked down at Kuririn and grinned, “I'm starved.”

 

As she looked at the two of them standing there together, just like old times, she felt all her fears evaporate, seemingly just jitters brought on by stress and unwarranted paranoia. Goku had been her friend for years and they'd lived through so much together. The thought that he had one evil bone in his body was just stupid. If he was on some alien mission to take over the world he could have already done it, many times over. He'd saved the whole world several times instead. One look at his open, easygoing expression and she felt silly having even entertained the notion that he could have meant any of them harm in any way. And that probably went double for the sweet looking little boy she'd just spoken to on the video phone.

 

“I think there may still be some sandwich stuff in the fridge, but, “she called over her shoulder as she went to get the glass of water she originally came in the house for, “before you start stuffing your face you have a bit of explaining to do, Goku.”

 

“Awww, can't it wait,” Goku protested, “I'm really totally famished here.” He turned back towards Kuririn who had headed for the nearest comfortable seat. “Didn't you say Tenshinhan was supposed to bring Lunch back over here? Do you think she'll cook us some supper?”

 

“No, it can't wait,” said Bulma, grabbing a handful of the short sleeve of his gi as they passed each other at the threshold to the kitchen. “Your son wants to make sure he gets to say goodnight to you before his bedtime.” She mockingly glared at him as she dragged him over to the couch in the sitting room.

 

He sat down next to Kuririn as she gave him a little shove, pretending that she was able to actually push him around and he hadn't done it of his own volition. After nearly seven years of marriage to Chi Chi, he'd found this approach worked better when dealing with women when they were about to go into some self-righteous lecture. There was no point in being resistant and inflaming tempers further. He looked up at Bulma with a guiltless expression and the same half smile she'd most recently seen on his son's face. “So I guess you met Gohan?”

 

“Told ya so,” snickered Kuririn, although most of his attention had obviously drifted to what he could see on the television past Roshi and Oolong.

 

“Yes…” she said in a very even and amicable tone, which he knew wouldn't last very long. “He looks like a nice boy, AND HOW COULD YOU COME OVER HERE AND NOT EVEN SAY ANYTHING? HOW COME YOU DIDN'T EVEN CALL TO TELL ANYBODY?!”

 

“Well,” he started, putting one hand up behind his head and shutting his eyes as though he were thinking up a sufficient answer, “I figured I'd let Chi-Chi tell you. I thought it would be a big surprise, you know?”

 

“Then there's the matter of his, uh, extra appendage…”

 

“Oh, you mean his tail? That's cute, isn't it? It's just like the one I used to have.”

 

“Is he as strong as you were growing up, too?”

 

“Oh, no. He's a lot stronger than I was at his age. It's really too bad though. Chi-Chi practically has a fit if I even try to train him a little bit. She thinks he'll be much better off if he studies all the time.” Goku frowned slightly, not looking unlike a disappointed child himself. “He has such potential. Chi-Chi's just no fun sometimes.” He crossed his arms in front of him as the frown turned into a full on pout. Then he stretched out, all traces of disappointment disappearing. “Why are you so worried about his tail, anyway?”

 

“Because…” Bulma once again fumbled with words momentarily, and then decided that maybe just coming out with it all at once might be the best way to tell him. “I accidentally turned on some sort of video communicator in the spaceship and I think I saw the guy Lunch said is following her. He has a tail just like you used to have, too.”

 

“Wow. What a weird coincidence. I wonder why…”

 

“She's trying to say that you're not from here,” interrupted a gentle soprano voice from behind them.

 

They all turned, save for Roshi and Oolong, to see Lunch, Tenshinhan and Chou-tzu in the entryway. Chou-tzu hovered and fidgeted, looking uncharacteristically flustered, while Tenshinhan seemed to be surveying the lot of them with a detached and stoic air that betrayed more than a bit of concern for the state of things. Bulma said a silent prayer that Lunch was in her more easygoing mode. She might be easier to talk to about what they needed to be prepared for, although she seemed rather distressed in the way she was clutching a large, black bag to her chest. And the way she was staring at Goku - well, it looked as though she was convinced that the alien invasion had indeed already begun.

 

“Wait,” said Goku, chuckling a little, “what do you mean not from here?”

 

Bulma was suddenly sorry she had brought the whole thing up. But, how exactly should one go about telling one of your best friends that he's an alien? “Well, on the bright side” she began anew, unable to help damage already done, “at least he looked like he was a lot shorter than you. Perhaps that would give you an advantage in a fight…”

 

“But,” Lunch interrupted in such a soft tone they could barely hear, “Raditzu's a little bit taller…Vegeta!” She suddenly gasped, dropping the black bag. Then, curiously she had it back in her grasp before it hit the ground. Bulma didn't even see her reach out to catch it. Another audible gasp filled the room as all four seasoned fighters who were looking apparently had been able to follow the motion.

 

“How…when…” Kuririn stammered, “I don't remember you being able to move so fast, Lunch. Just what happened to you out there?”

 

“Oh,” she replied shakily, “must be because of the gravity.” She had visibly paled by this point. “But it doesn't really matter. None of this really matters. Not anymore.” She turned briskly and pushing past Tenshinhan and Chou-tzu, she walked right back out the front door, shutting it softly behind her.

 

“Maybe I should go and try talking to her,” said Bulma. Somebody had to break the sudden oppressive silence. “I have to check in with dad, anyway.” She looked around questioningly. Nobody said anything; nobody seemed to have moved. “Did any of what she just said make any sense to any of you?”

 

“I'm still trying to figure out the part about me not being from here,” said Goku nonchalantly, although he still looked as though the whole scene had surprised him somewhat.

 

“All makes perfect sense to me.” Everyone turned back around. Roshi was now standing facing them. He leaned slightly on his wooden staff. Bulma could see enough of the television screen behind him to grasp that the program had paused for a commercial break. He toddled off into the kitchen and disappeared behind the door of the refrigerator momentarily. Everyone waited as he slowly made his way back, beer in hand. They all stared expectantly as he cracked the tab on the can and sat back in front of the TV.

 

“Well…?” asked Bulma impatiently, as it seemed no one else was going to prompt an explanation out of the old Sensei.

 

“You see,” he finally began, liberally sipping from the can of beer from time to time, “a while ago Son Gohan… by the way, very nice of you to honor your late grandfather by naming your son after him, Goku. He found a baby with a tail in the woods. Turns out this was right around the same area you were traveling through, Tenshinhan, when you said Lunch seemed to have disappeared completely a little over three years ago. Which is about when Lunch says she found a spacecraft similar to the one she arrived in earlier today. Anyway, Gohan says this baby was a lot more than a handful to deal with. Actually he says that if he didn't know any better he might even describe the kid as downright hateful. Then the kid falls down a gorge and knocks himself silly in the head and he's just as sweet as can be from then on. They get along just fine after that, and Gohan takes the kid in permanently, treats him as if he were his own…”

 

“And that baby, was, me!” Goku suddenly beamed as the revelation dawned on him.

 

“Yes,” Roshi continued, “but it stands to reason that the spacecraft Lunch found also belonged to you, Goku. It's got to be more than a coincidence that Gohan finds you in the same area that Lunch finds the spacecraft, see? And Lunch shows up here and she's pretty distressed about the guy who's following her back. Bulma says she's got a glimpse of him, but she gives a little bit of a description and it's apparently all wrong. She came back here thinking there might be some sliver of hope, but Bulma mentions this other guy and all hope flies out the window. In short, we're all very lucky you fell down that gorge, Goku, but our luck may have run out. Looks like your people are coming to claim that missing baby.”

 

“But, we can't just sit here and do nothing! There's got to be something…” Goku seemed to be searching for another revelation, his expression becoming more serious. “My people, you say… then I have to concentrate on whatever weaknesses I have. It stands to reason that my weakness will be their weakness…”

 

Bulma surveyed the room, noting the expression on each one of her friends' faces. There seemed to be a general air of resolve brewing as Goku spoke. Nobody was willing to just let aliens show up and take over. Not without a fight anyway. One by one, they all pledged to help Goku in any way they could. Except for Oolong. He seemed to have conveniently disappeared. For her part, Bulma was still marveling at how easily Roshi had been able to explain the whole thing to Goku, all the while skirting the issue of just what having a tail meant.

 

“My tail!” Goku suddenly blurted. “That has to be the key to all this. I used to get so weak if anybody grabbed hold of it. We just have to work out a strategy, figure out the best way to start grabbing tails and… I take back what I said before. Whoever these guys are, they're not my people, you are. And we will defeat them. It's as simple as that. Now, if you'll all excuse me, I'm going to head home and spend some time with my family. I imagine I'm going to have to put in a lot of hours training, so I'm going to spend what time I can with them. I'll see all of you back here tomorrow?” All nodded resolutely. “And Bulma, why don't you get up with Yamcha and fill him in? Looks like we could use everybody we can get on this.”

 

Damn! The moment she'd been dreading had finally arrived. It had been the first day in many that she'd had enough to occupy her mind that she didn't have to think about him. They had unofficially broken up a week ago. She had waited by the phone for four days. It never rang. She wasn't going to be the first one to give in and call, at least that's what she had decided for sure five days ago. “Fine, I'll send him over,” she sighed, “but I'm going to keep myself busy back at the corporation trying to figure out the alien technology, it's probably the area I can help most in.” It seemed a fair compromise. Backing out completely would have looked really bad, considering the circumstances. If she was lucky, he wouldn't be home and a curt message on voice mail would suffice. “Speaking of which, I'd better get out there and help dad get that thing packed up… and I said I'd try to get through to Lunch, maybe she has more useful information…”

 

“No.” Tenshinhan broke in. He looked as though he'd been immersed in serious thought for a while. “I'll take care of that. As many revelations as we've had today, there's still something that doesn't add up. I need to figure that out. Hopefully by tomorrow all the pieces will be in place and we'll have a plan, a really good plan, put together. We're going to be ready for these guys, and one way or the other, we'll defeat them.”

 

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She had stared out at the sun lowering on the horizon for a little while, then she watched Dr. Briefs as he tagged pieces of the space pod, apparently taking inventory. `The Other' had begun trying to break through again at that point, but she'd made a real effort and managed to staunch the flow of cursing and threats that followed a short stint of listening to the old man as he ticked off each piece aloud in tandem with what he had on a handwritten list. The important thing was that she not let her mind become empty. That was always the important thing. Empty on the outside, that was OK, as long as the inside was full of constant thought, always busy, everything would be just fine. Had been that way for years, and it was going to stay that way. Abject fear of the immensely powerful Saiyan prince was not going to push her over that edge, as tempting as it was. Let him come and destroy the planet, he wasn't going to be the one who was going to cause her to loose control. Besides, he probably was still in route to Arlia. Her immediate distress at Bulma's having made contact was probably unwarranted. The way he'd talked, showing up here was completely beneath him. She'd only even seen him once, but the arrogant fool was like an open book. If he wasn't so damn strong he was no more than a spoiled brat with a chip on his shoulder. Still, the power made all the difference.

 

She'd seen that power when she'd been able to watch his match from beneath the stands on Freiza 75. She had to admit the whole experience of visiting that planet had been breathtaking. It was the kind of thing people dreamed of when they imagined finding distant inhabited worlds. The place was a Mecca of strange buildings that towered past the perception of her vision and streets teeming with every imaginable life form. She couldn't help herself from gawking as Raditzu dragged her down one of the main thoroughfares by the tightly fitting metal collar he'd explained it was necessary she wear at such an event. Because he'd taken it upon himself to explain anything, she had surmised that he'd been in a good mood that day. A rare occurrence which had become absolutely exceptional after Andolonusia. He didn't seem to be able to keep himself from laughing at her obvious naiveté when it came to the greatness that was the extent of the trade. It must have been fairly entertaining because he'd even encouraged her to ask a couple of questions about what she was seeing, and he'd actually bothered to answer them.

 

“How come out of all these different kinds of people, most of them look a lot like Captain Daax?”

 

“Feh. They're merely good customers. What they lack in brains they make up for in credits.”

 

“What're the little metal things with red lights that keep zipping around my head every few minutes?”

 

“Scrubbers. They're programmed to recognize the… less evolved. They keep the atmosphere in your general vicinity neutral since you're too pathetic to filter out the sulfur. You'd suffocate without them. Heh. Too bad they couldn't figure out something similar to keep the stinking gravity more comfortable. Freiza would have to pick some low-grav hunk of shit to put a major metropolis on.”

 

“The buildings are so tall, how come they don't just fall over?”

 

“Engineering technique called elastic…elastic… dammit!”

 

“Elastic dammit? Tee-hee, that's a funny name…”

 

“Shut up, fool! I can't remember exactly what it's called or how it works. My father probably could have explained… what the hell am I doing talking to you anyway? Just keep your trap shut and do what I tell you to.”

 

And so the good mood had disappeared as suddenly and inexplicably as it had surfaced. The rest of the route to the coliseum-like structure that was to house the featured bouts was characterized by a heavy silence. When they'd finally reached their designated place to prepare beneath the stands, she marveled again at what she'd seen on the top levels of the building; walls that reached beyond her sight and a staggering amount of people that packed not only the available seats, but also every available place to stand. They'd had to force their way through a smothering throng before they'd even reached the portal that led down to where the participants were to ready themselves. The noise of the crowd just in the interim before the fights started was practically deafening. When the fights actually started the roar of the chants and cheers was like an audible juggernaut that shook her down to the very marrow in her bones.

 

Each participant was assigned a small roped off section under the stands that had a designated number. Apparently they'd been lucky and gotten one on the outside edge of what was referred to as `the pit.' There was a narrow space between where the rise of the stands started and the foundation of `the pit' went down where one could actually get a close up view of the arena proper. Most of the combatants would have to rely on playback on holo-screens distributed throughout the place in combination with readouts on their scouters to get a sense of the action. She was able the stand on tip-toe and peek through the chink. Upon doing so she was greeted with a sharp yank to the metal collar that knocked her off balance. She'd landed roughly on her backside in the dirt that made up the floor of `the pit.'

 

“Quit fucking around over there and pay attention where you're supposed to.” Raditzu looked down at her with a deep scowl that indicated that any trace of levity or anything otherwise wouldn't be any part of the rest of the day. His eyes widened slightly as he noticed the small puff of dirt rising as a result of her fall to the ground. In one swift motion that she hadn't even seen he grabbed her upper arm and hauled her out of the dirt and set her back on her feet. He'd then spat at the place she'd just occupied. Ever since he'd lost that stupid vial on Andolonusia he'd been particularly testy if she was around anything that might have the slightest chance of making her sneeze. “We'll have none of that transformation bullshit today if you know what's good for you.” His grip had tightened slightly to drive the point home. Then he'd turned her around and pointed to a undernourished looking figure with puce-green skin and only one eye that hung dolefully from an appendage at the top of its head.

 

She noticed that the sorry looking alien wore a similar collar to the one she'd had on. It limped its way among the contestants pushing a cart piled high with chest armor. It looked as though all the contestants had to conform to some sort of regulation in that sense. She almost opened her mouth to ask about it, but thought better of it when she got another glimpse of her master's face. She resigned to wait patiently for the cart. When it arrived she'd pulled the unexpectedly heavy armored shirt from the top of the stack and went about the usual business of removing Raditzu's standard armor and replacing it with the regulation set, all of which was made somewhat more difficult than usual because of the bruise welling up on her arm. He didn't stop glaring at her with that pitiless scowl during the whole process.

 

“Step aside,” the puce-green thing had croaked at her blandly when she'd finished her work. It then held up the eyepiece of a scouter that also had looked like it conformed to some regulation and observed Radizu with its watery eye.

 

“1600. Sufficient,” the thing croaked in the same bland tone. “Agave reads at 1950.” Then it went on about its task at the next roped off section.

 

Her expression must have betrayed her thoughts because the next thing she knew she was practically nose-to-nose with her master, the scowl deepening if that was possible.

 

“Not one word… don't even think it,” he grumbled in a low voice meant for her ears only. “The last thing I need is that sort of… distraction.”

 

But how could she not think about it? She'd heard `the other's' astounded exclamation that he'd topped out at over 3300 during the battle on Andolonusia. That meant that he'd had the technique of burying his ki down pat for weeks. And it was not just outright pushing it to nothing, this had meant sustaining it at a steady regulated level for a prolonged period. She tried desperately to find some semblance of memory from `the other,' but on that day it seemed she'd been completely shut off. She had been sure that the entire idea of pulling off an against-odds win at this thing had started off as a ruse, a way for `the other' to torment her tormentor, but had the wager actually been made? She'd never had access to Nestar, the commander of unit 57, but she knew it was one of his relations who was supposed to have placed a bid in the event that it was possible to actually pull off this crazy stunt.

 

Before she could think any further, a bellow from the crowds above drowned everything out. It seemed the tournament was beginning. A few of the nearest participants wandered over to the chink in the wall to get a look, but most of them continued with whatever business they'd been occupied with.

 

She gave her master a questioning look. The pall of anger seemed to lift just a little as he gestured toward the wall.

 

“Bah! Look if you want to. It's just the warm up events. Pretty boring stuff.”

 

She went back over and was about to raise herself up to get a full view through the slit in the wall when she turned her head slightly to look back and double check that the permission given was genuine.

 

She was somewhat surprised by the first full view of her master in the sleeker, regulation armor. His muscular form was a lot more streamlined without the excess shoulder guards and the elbow length bracers he normally wore. He still had his tail wrapped protectively around his midsection, but the evidence she was looking for was clear. His attention seemed to be absorbed by some readings he was scrolling through on his scouter, but he noticed her hesitation, giving her an opening.

 

“What the hell is it now?”

 

She gingerly made her way back to his side, close enough so that he could hear what she had to say, but not so close to offend. “Sir,” she whispered, “you must be careful…”

 

He had a fistful of her hair in an instant. “I told you I don't want any of your nonsense today. You are so close to ending up on that arena floor right now…!”

 

“Your tell,” she hissed urgently. “I must apologize,” the words were falling from her lips faster than she could have stopped them, “I haven't been able to help but notice that whenever you try to bluff something, the tip of your tail curls up slightly and twitches. If you're going to do what I think you are, if anyone were to start asking questions about… you might want to…”

 

“You dare!” It felt as though her scalp were going to separate from her skull, but suddenly the pressure there slacked, just a little bit. “Duly noted,” he growled through bared teeth. “Now don't speak to me again.” He roughly pushed her back in the direction of the wall.

 

What she witnessed that day was very little like the Tenka'ichi Budokais she had seen back on Earth. The warm up events that were taking place consisted of similar exercises to the ones Captain Daax often ordered to `clear the chaff' out of Missionary's personnel. The big difference was that in these demonstrations, the chance the slaves and small time soldiers had of coming out alive was slim to none. They were herded into the arena and matched against small groups or solitary warriors, sometimes even monstrous things that couldn't have been sentient, that were without a doubt well out of their league entirely. The solitary warriors were by far the worst, toying with their victims persistently before finally dispatching them by means of dismemberment or worse to pump up the crowd. The arena floor was awash in blood and body parts before the first few of these warm up events had finished. She had been unable to watch anymore long before that.

 

When she had turned away from the wall and resorted to just sitting at its base in the dirt, Raditzu glanced over and flashed her a cruel, knowing smile, his most recent threat to her realized in full. She had waited there, silent and unmoving for what seemed like an eternity when suddenly a heavy silence and a palpable sensation of awe fell over the arena. Scenes on nearby holo-screens panned to a set of box seats, richly furnished, yet still vaguely Spartan.

 

Double doors at the back of the box opened reveling a small, hovering figure. As it moved forward, two larger figures stepped up from behind to flank the strange looking little man. These two seemed a visual study in opposites. The taller and by far wider of these looked very much like Missionary's captain, though slightly better looking, if such a creature could be described as pleasing to look at. Bony spines pocked its pink, almost scaly textured flesh intermittently, and its flaccid eyes were set above a mouth that was little more than a pucker. The figure to the other side stood with a patrician air, its delicate features accentuated by the slightly green porcelain skin. Thick, deep green hair neatly woven into a long braid snaked past piercing amber colored, almond shaped eyes. This one was also adorned with several accoutrements that seemed to serve no purpose except as jewelry.

 

The small figure to the fore was the one that commanded the attention of all present. He didn't look anywhere near as muscled as his associates, but an invisible aura of pure power seemed to permeate even the projected image on the holo-screens. A pasty white membrane covered it from its head to its three toed feet in a reticulated reptilian fashion, including its fat lizard like tail. Its unkind close-set eyes were slightly shadowed by a bony structure complete with two side-jutting horns that topped its head. It was unclear to her as to whether this was some kind of ornamental helm or an actual part of the head that seemed far too large for the small body. The little man that was surely none other than Freiza floated forward until he was just over the lip of the box, arms crossed over his chest. Though his head never turned, the malicious gaze slid fully across the entirety of those assembled. The full blackened lips curled into an almost imperceptible smile, and then he opened his arms to the crowd, which erupted in a howl that forced her to cover her ears and sent cold chills down her spine. The tournament proper had begun.

 

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A/N : Wrote an extra long chapter this time since most of this is old hash. I'm just practicing flexing the part of my brain that wants to be oh so descriptive. Sincere apologies to Mr. Toriyama for `borrowing' from his original dialogue. It is intended as flattery, and I'm not seeking monetary compensation of any kind from this endeavor. I tried to keep it to a minimum, but although this story is going to turn out much different, some things remain very much the same.