Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Restraints and Liberations ❯ Regression (b) ( Chapter 7 )

Warnings: slavery, abuse, rape, mpregs, kawaiiness, LEMON, angst...

Rating: NC17

Disclaimers: I do not own DBZ. Really…I don't!!! I know, I know…it seems as though it ought to belong to me, however it does not. I also do not own Mijuku or the Lady Herself, (I think they own me in the end...) they both are the sole property of my most beloved tsuin, Cleodasia and are used in this universe with her express permission. Sage is mine. You'd be best off if you admired him from afar unless you're one of his favored few chosen...*smirks at Mama Dasia and Auntie onna*

As always, for being there and letting me use her brats, this is dedicated to my twin/fiancé/whateverelseshemaybe, Cleodasia!!! *chu* *wipes her tears*...it'll be ok brat-koi…honest!!!

And I really must dedicate this also to For-chan who cried when she read it...or at least she said she cried…*mops up the soggy cookie*

And last, but most definitely NOT least, to bakayaro onna for beta'ing this out of the goodness of her heart, fixing things, making stuff more clear and re-arranging muddled sentences!!! *sighs* It comes together much better in the end after you've gone over it!!! And also drawing not one, but TWO illustrations for this fic!!! (*crosses fingers* thus far we hope...*grins*)

*looks pointedly at manawolf* You know why…*smirks*

Restraints and Liberations

By Talon

Chapter 6

Regression (b)

They had been sitting quietly, drinking zeddah and discussing Sage's situation, Turles eager to get the Lady's opinion and advice on the matter. The Lady did not keep slaves as a rule, but she did buy slaves, free them and train them to do what they wished on her station, sometimes sending them away to schools to learn their chosen trade. All her charges always returned to her out of deep love and deeper loyalty. She ran a small, but eminently delightful whorehouse on her station, mostly boys, and most were ex-slaves rescued from some situation or another. All who worked there did so on a voluntary basis and all were free to leave when they wished to explore other pursuits. Turles himself had made use of its services on more than one occasion and had been beyond impressed with the boys.

The Lady herself had been a prostitute at one time and thus Turles had supposed she had learned her peculiar brand of compassion there. At any rate, he knew she would have insights and information about slaves and slave mindsets he simply didn't possess.

Then, the scream in his mind, the utter terror that had overcome him, the panic, the disbelief and the wash of hopelessness...the sensation of near resignation and the calling, Please...please, no...please, Turles-sama...

He had not paused to consider the implications of the calling, nor had he looked at the Lady in the split second this had occurred, not seeing her turn furiously feral as the two of them moved at the same time for the door, rushing to the shop where Mijuku was holding the drunken alien off of Sage quite capably. And Sage...Sage's ki was wavering violently, climbing to heights Turles had never actually seen before in one so young. Nor had any evidence of it manifested when Turles had experienced Sage's initial terror.

It had felt wonderful to beat the shit out of that fucking Inndruds scum who had abused Sage so horribly, for since that split second where Sage had flooded his mind, Turles could see what the bastard had done to the boy, what Sage had seen, what he had felt. It had been difficult to stop short of killing the monster, but he had. He wanted to know how a convicted murderer who had been sentenced to a penal colony had escaped and now was on Space Station Du'chvle, a station with some of the most advanced surveillance & protection technology ever developed and a ferocious head of security. Not to mention being the realm of the Lady herself.

Cradling the distraught child in his arms, Turles had crooned and purred, trying to calm the boy down from his terror-induced power surges, and with a fitful whimper, Sage had passed out in his arms.

Turning with a sigh, he thanked Mijuku, knowing the boy had been all who stood between Sage and the Inndruds, but Miju brushed his thanks off.

"Is he all right?"

"I think so, Mijuku, thanks to you."

"Turles-san, it was nothing. Really."

Turles simply shook his head and kissed the rosy cheek of the red-haired boy in mute appreciation. Miju, of course, understood, as always.

He walked over to the crowd around the unconscious convict where the Lady was giving instructions and thwacking random people in emphasis.

"Lady Rihai," he said quietly.

"What is it, Turles-san?" She met his black gaze calmly, but he could see the fury behind her clear, icy gaze.

"I would like to know," he said choosing his words carefully, "how a convicted murder, one who was assigned to a penal colony, managed to run loose on your station."

She frowned. "That is a question I would like answered myself." She beckoned to a security guard nearby and gestured for him to scan the Inndruds for the implanted chip or tattooed bar code all penal colonies used to prevent such occurrences and escapes. Nothing came up on the scanner. The guard turned to Turles, and respectfully enough said, "You must be mistaken, Turles-sama, this person cannot be a convict..."

Turles growled, and this time the Lady did not reprimand him. Instead she gazed at him, saying only, "You could not be mistaken about this." It was not a question, and Turles nodded.

"I saw it through his eyes. There is no mistake, Lady."

She nodded then turned to another guard. "Fetch me Piccolo-san at once." Turning back to the guard with the scanner she ordered, "Strip him."

"My…my Lady?"

Her voice quieted. "Are you questioning me?"

His eyes widened. "Of course not, Lady!" He managed a shaky salute then knelt at once to carry out her bidding. In the short amount of time it took to remove the clothing on the unconscious convict, the other guard had returned with Piccolo, the Head of the Lady's security.

The Namek frowned at the scene laid out in front of him. He listened carefully as one of the guards briefed him on what had happened, his sharp eyes taking in Turles and his armful, the still steely Mijuku and finally the iron presence of the Lady Herself.

"Hn," was all he said as he knelt to examine the still form of the convict, his green, sharp-nailed fingers brushing a few places over the Inndruds scaly skin. They paused, at the left side of the small of the convict's back, then with a tugging motion he held up what appeared to be a piece of stretchy material made to look as the alien's own skin. Beneath the material was the unmistakable tattooed bar-code of a penal colony. As the hushed crowd watched, the square of material wriggled and began to change until it was nearly invisible against the startling green of Piccolo's fingers.

His fanged frown deepened. "A Shroud," he murmured.

The lady tapped the tip of her fan impatiently against a palm. "What is it, Piccolo, and why did our scanners miss it?"

"It is very new technology, Lady. I first heard of it three months ago, and dismissed it initially as a rumor. That it could hide any identifying mark, natural or manufactured from detection regardless of what race donned it. After a week of hearing more sightings of it and rumors of those who actually used it I began to investigate. The problem was, they are extremely expensive and only one faction, I suppose you could say, manufactures and distributes them. I've been trying to get my hands on one ever since so I could examine it and upgrade our security systems to detect it. Now that I have one in my possession, I will immediately begin the process. However," he paused. "I do not believe he came onto the station wearing this."

There was a collective gasp, and Turles scowled. "If he wasn't wearing it, how the hell you would be able to tell…" The Lady held up a hand, silencing him. Her eyes were cold as she considered her security head.

"You're suggesting he had help from inside the station? By what evidence do you make this claim?"

Piccolo met her icy eyes calmly. "By the ease in which the Shroud adapted itself to my skin color and texture. From what I understand, had he been wearing it for any amount of time it would have taken much longer for it to shift. Here." And he held it out to Herself who took it carefully and watched as it swiftly shifted from the brilliant green of Piccolo's skin to a pure alabaster, going nearly invisible against her skin. In turn, she handed it to Mijuku and it shifted again, quickly becoming a rosier complexion, who handed it to Turles who watched bemusedly, still holding the unconscious Sage as the Shroud conformed to his much swarthier complexion before handing it back to Piccolo.

"By my reckoning, he's had it on for hours at most. And I know he's been on station for longer than that, two days ago he was reported as causing disorder at one of the bars. Nothing serious, he was escorted from the premises with a warning."

Turles turned to stare furiously at the Lady who met his gaze calmly. "Very well, Piccolo. I leave this matter to your hands."

"Lady, what do you wish me to do with the prisoner?" asked Piccolo. "His offence…"

"I want him taken to the cell block and tended by a medic until he is in no danger of dying...nothing more. And you personally will hand pick no less than six guards to have rotating shifts around the clock watching his cell. I want him alive for the time being."

Piccolo bowed deeply. "My Lady commands."

She then turned to the glowering Turles and the unconscious chibi in his arms. For a whisper of a heartbeat, her expression softened. The fleeting moment passed and she said only, "I've things to sort out here, Turles-san, why don't you take the boy back up to my office. Miju and I will join you when we've finished here."

Not quite trusting himself to speak, Turles merely nodded and walked towards the ornate stairway, his tail lashing to and fro, cutting the air behind him. The Lady watched him for a moment then got to her business, Mijuku at her side.

~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*

Turles climbed the stairs, the slight weight in his arms barely noticeable through his rage. Someone had helped that piece of scum onto the station. Someone inside, probably one of the Lady's guards. His growl was audible only to him, however. Sage had been badly frightened, and instinctively Turles knew the longer the child was out, the better off he would be in the end. He nudged the door open with his hip and gently deposited his precious burden onto one of the couches lining the walls and placing a small, decorative throw pillow under the chibi's head. For a moment, he knelt, stroking his fingers through Sage's unruly locks, then stood and vanished into a small, adjoining room.

He returned with a basin of cool water and several cloths and sat beside the boy on the lavishly wide couch, carefully cleaning his face off. Sage was flushed and restless and Turles could tell he had slipped from being merely unconscious to a dream state.

The trader sighed helplessly as what Sage was dreaming about became all too apparent. He whimpered a whispered plea and Turles did his best to soothe the distressed chibi. He folded a cloth into thirds, wet it thoroughly, then after wringing it out, laid it across Sage's forehead.

"Shhh, child, I'm here, and I won't let anything hurt you, I promise. I promised before and I will keep that promise. Shhh, rest easily, Sage, please."

After a bit, it did seem the child was resting easier and Turles sighed in relief. He didn't want Sage to get upset again. Besides not wanting the child to be that stressed, he hadn't been so blood-lusted he had missed the incredible power surges from Sage, and the tell-tale gold flickerings. It seemed the son of Vegeta would indeed live up to his birthright.

Sage's almost complete lack of control was going to be a problem. A Saiyjin with that kind of power could literally destroy a planet if out of control. Turles didn't know for sure if Sage's power level was sufficient to actually blow a planet up, but he was sure it could put a sizeable hole in the space station.

He wasn't aware of time's passage as he sat beside the boy and stroked his hair, gently petting the child's tail with his own, calming himself as he calmed Sage. He didn't start as Herself and Miju entered the room, in fact didn't acknowledge them at all, so focused was he on the boy. He knew they were in the room of course, he just...ignored them.

The Lady Rihai went directly to her desk, drawing up various necessary paperwork while Mijuku walked quietly to the couch where Turles sat with his charge.

"How is he?" The lilting, boyish voice was concerned and Turles answered readily.

"He's resting calmly just now, but he'll wake soon."

"He's not…hurt at all?"

"I wouldn't say that. He has been hurt by this...just not physically. It will set him back." Turles raked his own scalp in frustration.

Miju's expression was sorrowful as he watched the boy sleep. "He was so frightened," he said quietly. "I could feel it."

That comment roused Turles from his near-stupor. The brat had called him! Called to him as though they shared...Kami, they did! Somehow, over the last four days, a tenuous bond between the two Saiyjins had formed. It wasn't unusual, Turles tried to reassure himself. They were blood kin after all. Not close blood kin, but...oh fuck. He was bonded to the Saiyjin no Ouji, and while he was pretty certain his cousin Kakkarott wouldn't have any problem with it, he wasn't at all certain how Vegeta would take the news.

Best not to dwell on it, he thought resignedly. Until he established the nature of the bond, which he couldn't do until the boy awakened, there was simply nothing to be done. Not that they could actually DO anything about it. He sighed. Probably the boy had been so deprived of Saiyjin contact his mind had automatically bonded with the first Saiyjin he came into prolonged contact with.

Even as he tried to dissuade himself, he knew. It was no mistake the bond was forming. He had come to care for the boy, would go to any lengths to protect him, to heal him. It was a platonic, family sort of love, but love nonetheless. At any rate it didn't matter, the bond was still in its beginning stages, anything could happen. He sighed again and put it from his mind. For now, it was actually useful; it would help him be more in tune with Sage's confused and convoluted thought processes. What would happen would happen, in the end neither of them had any conscious control over the fledgling bond.

He watched Sage sleep, forgetting about Miju for the moment, realizing for the first time the child was wearing different clothes. Clothes that fit him perfectly and made him look more like the prince he was than the waif he appeared to be in Turles' castoffs. The blue material of the sleeveless tunic almost shimmered and the high, round collar nearly hid the fading bruises left from the ki restraint collar. Hn…that was one good thing about the too-big tunic he had been wearing; the collar had completely hidden the bruises and welts from sight. But still bare feet he noticed. He turned to Miju to ask, then suddenly remembered where they had found Sage. He recalled a whole lot of footwear. They must have been in the process, he mused.

A whispered, "Turles-san," from Miju and he looked down into wide, frightened black eyes. Smiling, he was unprepared for the sudden lunge into his arms as Sage came fully awake. Surprised, he let his arms fall around the slight, shaking body who was murmuring the same, muffled phrase over and over from somewhere around his sternum.

"You came for me, you saved me!"

Large, strong hands stroked a ragged mane. "Of course I did. You think I'd let anyone hurt you? But you really ought to thank Mijuku." Turles' voice held no hint of reproach, but Sage's face and scent showed his distress immediately.

"I'm sorry, Mijuku-sama," he said, hanging his head, not facing the pregnant boy.

"Sage, I thought I told you not to call me `sama'!" Miju's giggle shone through his voice and Sage relaxed and turned to face the boy.

"Thank you for protecting me, Mijuku-kun. If it hadn't of been for you, he might not have gotten off the station with me," here his tail wrapped firmly around Turles' wrist, "but he would have had the chance to...hurt me."

Before Turles could blink, he had another brat in his lap who was busy snuggling a still shivering Sage. He looked helplessly at Herself who was trying desperately to hold back laughter at the big, bad Saiyjin being rendered helpless by an undersized teenager, and a pregnant brat-whore. He glared at her, and she smirked back, saying only, "We do have a few things to discuss, boys. Turles' refuel and check is nearly completed, and I am certain he and Sage will want to be on their way."

Miju turned around, still keeping himself firmly in Turles' lap and smiled brightly at his "Mama." "But I like them here, Mama, can't we keep them?"

"I'm afraid not, Mi-brat, Sage needs to get home to his family, ne?"

Miju pouted, then nodded, reluctantly. Herself turned to Turles and Sage. "Now, about your…attacker. He is being held and will continue to be held until your parents contact me with what you want done with him. He WILL not escape here, I give you my word."

Sage shivered, and both Miju and Turles held him tighter. Herself continued. "However, I do need some information on him for my files and for the official channels, if you have any of it, it would be of a great help." She looked at him, but he wouldn't meet her eyes.

"Sage," said Turles quietly. "You don't have to, but if you could..."

"No," said Sage quietly. "It's all right, Turles-sama." He didn't raise his head, but asked softly, "What do you need to know? I will tell you all I can."

At first, the questions were simple enough, name, age, important details like that. Sage answered easily enough, Turles mildly surprised he could remember such mundane details about his former owner. He faltered only slightly when the Lady asked where the Inndruds had bought Sage, and he replied he had been stolen, along with his bond papers which had then been fraudulently updated by the Inndruds' best friend and partner, a Stuubleion called Gulde. Herself had looked up sharply at that. Stuubleions were cunning and intelligent. In many underground factions you might find the purple-skinned, lavender haired, bipeds acting as personal advisors to the heads of the organizations. The Lady Herself had a few on retainer.

"Sage, I know these next questions are going to be difficult for you to answer, but I really do need this information. I need to have some idea of what he did to you."

Turles protested. "You can't possibly expect him to be able to answer you, Cleo; you saw how just seeing that asshole affected him!!"

The Lady Rihai simply looked at the young Ouji still in Turles' lap and waited.

Sage's tail tip curled around his hand as he considered his fingers. If I don't talk about it, maybe it didn't happen, he thought for a moment, then dismissed it. It had happened, and this particular owner had been one of the worst. But...to say those things out loud...

"What...what do you want to know?" he finally whispered.

The following question and answer session was...tense. Sage simply could not volunteer information, the Lady had to ask specific questions which didn't embarrass the boy, but did shame him. Turles himself was sickened.

"Was this what all your owners were like," he asked the boy quietly after one particularly vile answer.

Sage shook his head. "Some were better, some were worse, but he scared me the most. I never knew, you see. I never knew what he was going to do. One master only liked to fuck me. That was it. Nothing else. Other masters...liked other things. But none of them..." he broke off, shivering. Turles felt the upsurge of terror in the child.

"What…what is it?"

Sage shook his head again, this time violently. The Lady looked over at them and nodded. "I have enough information; you don't need to tell me any more."

Sage shook his head again. Turles rather thought Sage wanted to tell them, but he couldn't. Something, something just wasn't right with this scenario.

"Sage, chukra, do you want to tell me something?" Sage nodded, tears in his eyes.

"Do you not want anyone else to hear it?"

Sage shook his head, swallowed hard and spoke in a whisper. "No, I want them to hear it, I just…just...just..."

"You don't want to say it," supplied Mijuku.

Sage nodded, tears coursing down his cheeks.

"It's really bad, isn't it, Sage," said Miju quietly. "He did something to you, or was going to do something that frightened you more than anything ever has, ne?"

Sage nodded, but then spoke, "Wasn't his idea...was Gulde's."

"The Stuubleion?" Turles' voice was tight.

"Yes."

Mijuku watched as Sage's tail wound back and forth between his fingers. "What were they going to do?"

"They...they...somehow they found out I was onkru'kah...I don't know how, it isn't in my bond papers, my real identity isn't in them. I can only think it was Gulde...he was smart. Really smart. Yayyan, he wasn't smart, but once you explained something to him he never forgot it. I guess all Inndruds are like that with their trades."

Quietly, Miju said, "That is so." Sage took a deep breath and continued.

"They...they got to talking one night...after...after...just..." Sage faltered then determinedly ploughed on. "They were talking about how valuable I was on the market, an intact Saiyjin, and a trained and conditioned pleasure slave. It's one reason I was stolen so much. But anyway, Gulde got this odd scent and funny look and he turned and looked at me. He got really excited and started telling Yayyan about onkru'kah Saiyjins, and how they could...breed me with other full blooded Saiyjin slaves."

Turles gasped, nauseous. Mijuku's eyes filled with tears and Herself's face was a study in fury.

"But, chukra," said Turles when he got his voice back, "you can't bear yet, you haven't yet reached your Awakening."

Sage's voice was low. "They were going to force it."

"But…but that could KILL you!!!"

Sage's head lifted slightly. "Really? It could have? Then I wouldn't have had to..." His voice cut off abruptly and he hid his face in his arms for a moment, then turned to bury his face in Turles' shirt again. Wretched sobs issued from the child, but Turles wasn't exactly certain why the boy was crying.

"Chibi, what's the matter?"

Between sobs, Sage managed to gasp out what had happened. "They…going to...and couldn't...my cubs...wouldn't be able to...no matter what...not my babies...not slaves...would have to...to...to...would kill them myself first." Once he had gotten that out, he calmed a bit and continued. "I thought...I couldn't let my children be born into slavery. They would be princes, or princesses, and it was my responsibility not to let that happen. I never considered it before, but once they actually started getting supplies to do this...I had to start making plans myself. I...I...before Yayyan got caught in that bar fight...I was going to...to...kill myself."

Turles' purr erupted from his chest. While on one level he understood why this shamed Sage so, but on another level, he was so proud of the brat. Turles had no doubt he would have carried through with it too, and it would have been easier as he had been so severely ki restrained.

"Shhh, it's ok now, Sage. That's nothing to be ashamed of..."

"YES IT IS," screamed Sage suddenly. "IT IS!!! If Papa knew...if he knew I was going to suicide...he'd hate me. I know it. He hates it when people give up, and that's what I had done. Given up."

"Oh no, baby," said Mijuku earnestly. "That's not it at all. You were protecting your children who would have been born slaves if they had carried through with their plans. It was a good idea, Sage, it wasn't giving up."

"But it was," Sage whispered. "It was. I couldn't bear the thought of killing my cubs myself, so I decided to take the easy way out. Much easier to just kill myself, after all...wouldn't have to live with it."

Turles had a flash of light at that statement. THAT was why Sage didn't want to go home, THAT was why he was so concerned his Papa wouldn't approve of him, for anything. Turles wasn't certain where Sage had gotten the idea his father wouldn't have understood his position, and honorable death was desired by all Saiyjins. Suicide wasn't frowned upon, per se, it just depended on the reason for the act. And Sage's reason went above and beyond acceptable. He also knew nothing he said was going to change the child's mind just now. So he simply held the boy close, rubbing his back soothingly and purring.

The room was silent for a good while, only Sage's soft sobs, Turles' purring and the faint click of the Lady's keyboard filled the vastness of the office. So when a shy knock at the door came, at least three of the residents of the room jumped, startled. Miju stood gracefully at a nod from the Lady and crossed to answer the door.

Gadrrrile stood there, two parcels in his arms. "I am very sorry to be so presumptuous as to approach the Lady's office," he began when Miju ushered him into the office. "With all the confusion, the small one did not get his shoes for which he had waited so long and been so patient for." He looked over at the couch where Sage was still curled up in Turles' lap and his aqua eyes saddened. "He is not injured?" he queried of Mijuku.

"He'll be all right," said Miju smiling slightly, "Thank you for taking the time to come up here with his footwear. Let me get you a credit transfer." He started towards the Lady's desk when the thin voice of the shoemaker stopped him.

"That is not necessary," he said, smiling at Sage, who had removed his face from the now sodden folds of Turles' shirt and was looking curiously at the Genkan. "It is not often one has the honor of serving royalty." He bowed, his single side arm swept in front of him.

"Gadrrrile," began Mijuku in a worried voice.

"Never fear, young Master," said the shoemaker. "In this matter my voice will be silent. But," he looked again at Turles and Sage, "one would have to be blind not to recognize a child of the House of Vegeta." He bowed again and left the room, leaving behind him four completely bemused and befuddled people.

After a long moment of silence, Turles said suddenly, "Saiyjins and Genkans do a lot of trade. I suppose it's not so…odd he might recognize Sage..."

"He won't say anything," said Mijuku confidently.

"He won't," murmured Herself. "Not if he wants to keep his business here."

"Mama," said Mijuku reprovingly.

"He won't," whispered Sage, and Turles nodded in agreement.

"His scent," Turles explained to the Lady and Mijuku's questioning faces.

The Lady nodded, once, then checked her chrono. "Your refuel and check ought to be done, you probably want to leave ASAP, right?"

Turles nodded. In short order, the parcels of Sage's clothes, Turles' supplies and Sage's new shoes and boots had been stowed away on the ship. Mijuku hugged Sage tightly, and Sage surprised everyone by hugging the pregnant boy back and rubbing his belly bulge lightly with his tail. Hesitantly, he then approached Herself, stopped and bowed at the waist a few feet before her. She bowed gravely back and only nodded when he stammered his thanks. As he returned to an upright position, she stopped him with her crystal gaze and said simply, "We will meet again, young Ouji. Safe journey."

"Thank you," whispered Sage again, then turned to follow his cousin onto the ship. As Turles pulled away from the station, Sage fancied he could still see Mijuku waving frantically at them, with Herself standing behind him, one hand on his shoulder, the other perched atop his bulge. He sighed. Turles had been right. He could trust the Lady...and he liked Mijuku. He hoped he could come back, someday. He'd like to see the baby.

He watched Turles punch their course in and set the autopilot before coming back into the main room of the ship.

"Well, what do you say we start putting this stuff away?"

Sage nodded silently, and began unpacking.

To be continued…...