Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Retaliation; the Trouble Inside ❯ Conflagration ( Chapter 13 )

 

 

 

 

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, which Akira Toriyama created. In addition, I don't own Dragon Ball GT. Toei Animation Co. Ltd. Shuisha Bird Studios license both. This is fan fiction, meaning no harm to the anime or manga.

 

Retaliation

By Trynia Merin

Conflagration

 

***

 

Elsewhere, in another dimension not limited by flesh, another duel ensued. Images flashed through the experience and astral mind of the last son of Vegetasei, and left him wanting. Trunks heart shivered with icy dread at the last memory played before him. His nostrils filled with the acrid pong of death while the screams of the dying resounded in his ears. He would never forget the drip of blood pooling under stacks of bodies clustered around the white booted figure who somehow managed to keep his breastplate clean from the blood spattering over it.

 

Thin lips curled up into a mean smirk. Midnight black eyes that devoured all light were hard and agleam with the sights of bodies writhing in agony. A mere flick of the white gloved wrist and the Saiyan prince Vegeta sent beings to their death. Either dissolving into ashes or lanced through with hundreds of pencil thin ki beams they all arrived at the same destination. Clouds hung thick, comprised of the ashes of what had once been living bone and muscle.

 

Panting, Nappa and Raditz landed on either side of the Saiyan Prince ringed by heaps of bodies. Vegeta had picked off his share of those around him, judging by the huge blast holes in the ruins around them. Scouters beeped the absence of life force in the blue, green and crimson lenses veiling their left eyes. Raditz wiped blood from his cheek with the cuff of one gauntlet while Nappa licked his fingers clean of gore. In Nappa's other hand dangled a headless torso of what had once been an archalisite.

 

"Whelp, you dick around too much. Just blow the fucking buildings up next time," Nappa reproved Raditz.

 

"Shut up! You know that we get an extra bonus if we sell the antiques to Turles," said Raditz.

 

"I want nothing to do with that disgusting low class," Vegeta snorted unimpressed at Raditz. "He hides and cowers while his minions do the dirty work and then goes in for the kill like a scavenger."

 

"Begging your pardon sire, but you let us fight before you do," said Nappa.

 

"Shut up, Nappa. Don't you DARE compare me to that third class scum who DARES call himself an elite! His face utterly disgusts me!" Vegeta spat. Raditz flinched, backing away as Nappa quivered in fear.

 

"Sire, I was just pointing something out. What died in your armor?" Nappa grumbled, hands on his hips.

 

"He… meant no disrespect, your Majesty. Thinking is not one of his strong points," Raditz began.

 

"Shut up you third class grunt! Mind your place!" Nappa bellowed at Raditz, who flinched once again.

 

"Enough you two! You drive me crazy with your stupid idle bickering! Why I keep you two around is beyond me. If you didn't stave off my boredom I'd have let Freeza have you both," Vegeta glared at them.

 

From behind his wall, Trunks squeezed his eyes shut. "Father…" he trailed off, seeing the painful truths unfolding before him. He had guessed his father was a heartless bastard, but this put all of his previous notions to shame. Where was his father in the young angry servant of Freeza that did nothing but delight in the screams of the dying.

 

"He's not the same as his father," whispered Trunks quietly.

 

Tapion grimly nodded, his eyes filled with sorrow that was twisting Trunks heart with grief. He too had seen death far more then he could tolerate. Even though he was fashioned by Trunks memories to guide the youth through Lineage, he could feel along with his adopted brother. Shares his sorrow and help him process what he was experiencing.

 

"I think you've seen enough for now, Trunks," Tapion whispered. Trunks stepped forwards toward the duo only to have Tapion's gloved hand clamp firmly on his shoulder.

 

"But this… I never knew he could be such a monster," whispered Trunks.

 

"As much as Freeza you say?" Tapion's voice quavered. Dragging Trunks back into the shadows, he reached for the sword sheathed on his back. Angrily Trunks resisted the pull of his guide, jerking his shoulder around and spinning his torso to shove Tapion away without hurting him.

 

"Don't!" Trunks shouted, hearing the rasp of a blade being drawn.

 

"You're only fighting yourself, Trunks," Tapion sadly said, holding the gleaming sword in his hands.

 

"Do you want me to see or don't you! I interacted with the memories before! I want to talk to them…" Trunks shouted.

 

Three Saiyans snapped their heads around in tandem like swiveling radar dishes trained on a satellite. Nappa and Raditz blinked in confusion while Vegeta narrowed his eyes at the sudden survivors concealed only partly by the ruined Oozaru idol. Raditz whispered, "Sire, a survivor!"

 

"Why can't I see them on my scouter?" Nappa wondered, poking the button on his earpiece.

 

"Shut up," Vegeta hissed, pushing Nappa easily aside. He stepped over the bodies nimbly, towards the arguing duo. A strange alien with a sword faced off with a figure in armor that resembled one of Freeza's soldiers. Had Freeza sent them to check up on him?

 

"Wait Sire, let me see first. I want some fun," Nappa pouted.

 

"I told you to shut up! If Freeza thinks he can spy on me he's sorely mistaken!" Vegeta growled. Nappa's earlier remark had touched a nerve, and he wasn't about to prove his underling's words were fact. No, he would face this menace head on. White vests meant elite, and the scouter beeped urgently with telltale words.

 

"Sire, my scouter says he's a Saiyan… but it is impossible…" Raditz cautioned, nearly tripping over a mount of bodies as he raced after Vegeta.

 

"You there! Explain yourself! Did Freeza send you to…" Vegeta trailed off. Trunks spun around, ignoring Tapion as he fixed his sapphire gaze on the approaching Prince.

 

"That's no Saiyan," Nappa scoffed. "OR it's a half blood Idsarjin bastard."

 

"Like one of your pleasure whores whelped?" Raditz asked.

 

"Who the fuck are you? I've never seen you before on Freeza's ship! Who do you represent? Did King Cold or that bastard Cooler send you?" Vegeta barked. His hand raised with the palm facing Trunks, his eyes gleaming behind the scouter that shielded half his face. Trunks realized how alien it made his father's countenance look. Even the widow's peak seemed shallower, and Vegeta's face was chubbier with the fat of youth.

 

"Trunks, don't!" Tapion's voice echoed.

 

"You…" Trunks shouted, pointing a white gloved hand at Vegeta. "You murdered them all like… why!"

 

"So what? Explain yourself before I blow you away! I won't let Cooler or whoever sent you ruin my plans! I work for Freeza!" Vegeta bared his teeth.

 

"You're wrong Sire! He's not one of Cooler's goons," Nappa shouted, running up towards Vegeta's left as Raditz flanked his right. "I've met them, and he's nothing like any of them! His armor's not a configuration I've seen before!"

 

"Be wary Sire! Nappa is right! His power left is rising…" Raditz shouted.

 

"Trunks! Step away!" Tapion cried, running forwards as he raised his sword over his head.

 

"Stay back!" Nappa yelled, opening his mouth. A blast shot forwards at the same time Raditz held aloft his hand and generated a purple sphere.

 

"Wait, that's a Konossian… but they were extinct a thousand years ago!" Raditz babbled, his eyes widening in shock. He restrained his purple sphere.

 

"This isn't your business!" Tapion gritted. "I don't want to fight you, but I can't let you hurt him…"

 

"Who cares! He's dead now!" Nappa laughed.

 

"Go to hell!" Raditz shouted, lobbing it towards the attacker. Trunks phased out, blocking the blow as Tapion's sword slashed Nappa's blast, directing it towards the already ruined ceiling.

 

"Is that supposed to impress me, Elite?" Vegeta snickered.

 

"Why did you do it? They gave you what you wanted!" Trunks shouted again, his hands upraised to fend off whatever attacks Raditz and Nappa generated.

 

"Stop. Before I destroy you both. Tell me why I should give a drek before you go to the afterlife. You're no creature I've seen before," Vegeta barked, waving a white gloved hand towards his soldiers. "Do what you want with the Konossian."

 

"With pleasure," Nappa said, cracking his knuckles. Tapion blurred into view, facing off against the two shadows of the Saiyans from Vegeta's memories. His eyes flashed with frustration, as he glanced over his shoulder to see Vegeta glaring at his charge.

 

Vegeta's spike of hair barely came to Trunks chin, but his regal presence added countless feet to his stature. From the hardness of the ruthless eyes to the crackling blue aura of his ki, every angle and contour radiated arrogance and Saiyan pride. He seemed merely intrigued and hardly phased by the appearance of the purple haired boy from out of nowhere. "You could be a half bastard Idsarjin, but Saiyan males always have black hair, don't they Nappa?"

 

"Always, Sire," Nappa shouted. Suddenly Tapion's blade slashed down, and two Saiyans were fighting for their lives.

 

"I'm neither," Trunks whispered, his heart pounding in his chest, groaning with emotions that he could barely name. Hatred and outrage warred with love and pity.

 

"Then who are you?" Vegeta asked, his gloved fist glowing blue. Trunks suddenly spanned his arms and generated a blue aura of his own.

 

"Someone who you won't know for years from now," Trunks barely managed to say. He hardly wanted to admit to this phantasm that he was his own son.

 

"Your ki is that of a Saiyan, how is that possible?" Vegeta demanded, his eyes slanting with disgust.

 

"Anything is possible, Father," Trunks finally answered, bringing the forbidden word to his heavy tight lips.

 

"This is a sick joke," Vegeta cackled, two fingers pointed towards Trunks. "You seek to amuse me with such stupidity? Will that be your epitaph?"

 

Air around the blue rod sizzled with its passage. Trunks raised his gloved hand to block the attack, his throat knotting. Vegeta's shape blurred before him, and he felt something wet trickling down his cheeks. Then he sensed Vegeta's energy cutting out when the prince phased like static only to appear elsewhere. How easy it was for Trunks to twist his torso and punch solidly into the midsection of his own father, wincing at the sound of the escaping air.

 

"Don't, please don't," Trunks pleaded, seeing the crumpled body rolling over on the floor. Rolling to a crouch, Vegeta hugged his abdomen and struggled to his feet.

 

"Damn, you might not be a Saiyan, but you are stronger then I imagined, freak. I might just enjoy this after all! Prepare yourself!" the Prince laughed, launching himself forwards. White gloved hands blocked and exchanged the series of kicks and punches too fast for any but a Saiyan to see. Trunks fist smashed into Vegeta's face. Yet the Prince jerked his head to the side at the last moment so the blow cracked into his scouter lens instead. Bits of gleaming glass scattered on the floor like strewn sand, followed by a sparking earpiece.

 

Trunks made the fatal error of watching the scouter fall, because he next felt a sharp kick connect with his groin. Then his body snapped to the side with a punch, before another blow hurled him backwards. The next moment he felt the hard flat surface of the floor colliding with his cheek, hip, and elbow. Only his armor stopped him from a nastier injury from the ki blast sizzling around him next. When it cleared Trunks blinked up into the astonished face of the Saiyan Prince with outstretched hand facing him.

 

"You're still alive. Good," Vegeta grunted, one eyebrow raised in surprise. He stared down at the huddled figured hugging his knee with a gloved hand shaking to extend in his direction.

 

"Enough," Trunks sighed, his hand raised with a bubble of blue energy. The world around Vegeta exploded in sapphire radiance from the collision of Trunks attack with his face. His body whipped back and forth one time only to crumple lifeless to the floor.

 

Sadly Trunks rolled to his feet, and staggered over to drop to one knee by his prostrate father. Vegeta curled up on his side, his one hand outstretched with the other draped over his breast. Rolling him over, Trunks cradled the Saiyan's head over one arm and pulled Vegeta towards him. Still the breastplate rose and fell indicating that his father breathed. Whatever damage could befall Trunks here might well affect his father. Inner senses informed him this was his dad's soul, blinded and limited in its experience.

 

Around him reality shifted, and Trunks held tightly to his father's young body. Cold darkness wrapped both Saiyans in its smothering embrace, till shafts of light pierced it. Then he heard the approaching footsteps of someone whose identity he knew without seeing. The shadow of a spiky hair figure draped over them both like a blanket, backlit by azure light from some distant source.

 

"Grandfather," Trunks whispered, glancing up into the stern face he had seen in his mind and heart.

 

"You understand, don't you?" he asked, head inclined. The emotion was difficult to read on King Vegeta's regal face. Especially since it was partly hidden by the moustache and beard. While his father looked dreadful with the moustache Bra hated, it belonged on this visage. Dark eyes were bottomless, swallowing all light but held wisdom and regret.

 

Slowly Trunks struggled to rise, holding his father's still body in his arms. He accepted all experiences without question, realizing to do so would defeat the purpose of Lineage. Instinct governed his actions, buoyed by the memories King Vegeta had bestowed him with. What he once hated was now an unknown treasure far more precious then anything material. The entire culture of a world destroyed was now locked inside Trunks skull for all time. Around them in the shadows formed a tall vaulted ceiling, which was illuminated in small phases by the ever increasing blue light. Memories echoed like distant voices with each passing second his eyes sought answers in those of the King.

 

"You don't fight me any more, do you?" King Vegeta asked. Standing at full height, Trunks realized his grandfather was only a few inches taller then himself.

 

"I want to understand why. Why did you use ME? Why did you make me attack Pan?"

 

"Because there was so much to lose. Your desire for identity Trunks called out to me. For ages I watched in Hell, unable to reach or act. My punishment for a lifetime of inflicting pain was to see the death of my own race. The thinning of my Saiyan blood, and the agony of my son's existence. Then to see the birth of hope in a future son from another time. Along with your birth. Vegeta never wanted a son of his own. That always caused me great pain. But when he accepted that to continue to live was the best victory…"

 

"I thought that to become king, the Prince had to kill his father. But that wasn't always the case. It was only if the Father didn't die first in battle," said Trunks.

 

"Or the two fought, and it was the Prince's choice if his father lived as an advisor with all rank and title stripped, out of public sight. Or if he joined our ancestors in the afterlife with Great Father Oozaru," King Vegeta informed him. Now behind him rose the steps towards the dais where the royal throne stood, flush against the same ornate tapestry Trunks had seen in the museum. A tree with many branches that spelled out the royal lineage and a name that had never changed till now.

 

"I thought that Saiyans only lived to destroy. And my dad here… it was all… a lie… by Freeza…"

 

"Freeza took what elements he could from Saiyan culture and twisted them in my son's brain. He took a once proud and independent culture and warped it into a tool of his own amusement. But your innocence and desire to know brought me here. I was merely waiting for a time when I could bridge the gap," he said.

 

"When I started poking around in Mom's lab," Trunks whispered. "And started thinking more about myself."

 

"You welcomed me in at a vulnerable time. I merely wanted to make Vegetasei great once more. Not a mere collection of half-breeds and thinned blood. But as I spent more time in your body, I came to know how Saiyans have adapted this Earth as their home. And I am still confused. There is much I need to know, and much I must speak to my son… your father about. Much unfinished business… and battles," whispered the King.

 

"Why not just ask?"

 

"That is not the Saiyan way, Trunks," said the King, shaking his head sadly. "It is against Saiyan pride to beg when one can take what is needed. Something that the Prince took to the extreme. But an eternity in hell can show much."

 

With each word uttered, a shadow of darkness fell, enabling more light to illumine the throne room. Now all the details were clear to Trunks, from the carved statues holding up the vaulted roof to the metallic gleam of the blue metal walls covered in tapestries depicting Saiyans at the hunt, and transforming under the light of the full moon. Other freezes depicted an epic battle with the Tuffles, driving them from the cities.

 

"What now?" Trunks asked. "Father said that he and I would be fighting you."

 

"He is even now, Trunks. The answer is, do you want to fight me?"

 

"What do you want, Grandfather?" asked Trunks quietly, cradling his father's young body.

 

"A reason why he let the Saiyan race die. Why he never saw fit to live as a King and be satisfied as a prince. He did not defeat Freeza… but his son did…"

 

"My other self. He avenged all of us, the royal blood of Vegetasei," said Trunks.

 

"That has been paid. But he refuses to face what distortions were made in what he saw as Saiyan culture. He clings to a view that was tainted by Freeza's evil, and it's deep seated. I am afraid that the fight will be bitter. And he will need you more then he realizes," said the King, raising his hand and sweeping his cape back.

 

"So you're still going to fight?" asked Trunks.

 

"An accounting must be made. I had hoped to use your body to fight him. But now that you have control of your faculties, I cannot easily do so. Retribution must be satisfied. Which is why it will be all the more painful what I'm about to do, Trunks."

 

"What do you mean? You can't mean to… I can't let you fight us!" Trunks gritted.

 

"You won't alone. But you will. It must be, or I will continue to haunt all the Saiyans that live. Your father's soul is in jeopardy, and the rite must be completed," said the King.

 

"Isn't there another way? Hasn't he paid enough for his crimes?" Trunks demanded.

 

"A few years of goodness don't wipe away a lifetime of evil. IT is too late for me. But not for my son. If you honor him, and wish to save us both, you must allow the rite to continue, Trunks," King Vegeta shook his fist as he closed the gap.

 

"I need to know more!"

 

"All my knowledge of Saiyan culture I've placed in your mind and blood, Trunks. It is there, but you must accept it. You'll need it, as you help your father fight in the battle ahead. In the world of the living you'll return," King Vegeta continued, his voice sad and somber. Ever stronger in hue increased the light till it blinded him, and the voices of many whipped around them like a cold winter wind. Faces, voices, and a myriad of ideas bubbled up from somewhere inside Trunks, and wrestled for his attention.

 

"It's too much."

 

"You will know. Accept it. Accept your fate… and awaken to the next step in the rite," King Vegeta implored. Those dark eyes burned into Trunks soul, and he could not refuse his Grandfather's deep-seated pain that needed release. So many years of agony and grief slammed into Trunks that he felt his father's body slipping from his grasp.

 

"Trunks, he's too strong," whispered Prince Vegeta's voice. "Don't let him win."

 

"Father, he only wants to fight for you. You have to face him!" Trunks whispered down to the body he held.

 

"I can't and I won't," Vegeta hissed, pushing away at Trunks chest. "I make no apologies for the choices I've made. He didn't live as I did! Suffer the humiliations I did!"

 

"Time to awaken, my son, and grandson!" shouted the King through the blinding light searing their souls and eyes.