Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Stormy Bond ❯ Act I ( Chapter 2 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

"By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune,… hath mine enemies brought to this shore…" – Prospero (1.2)
"Come on, Teed-yar, I have to get this food replicator up by dinner time, or we're going to have to eat dad's stewed Yamen root for dinner again." The voice that came from inside the guts of machine against the wall was firm, but full of good humor and determination. It made the small, blue figure leaning curiously over a chunk of mettle and wires that resembled robotic road kill, turn immediately. Teed-yar quickly replaced the drooping light to shine on the mass of cables and tubes on the inside of the malfunctioning equipment with only a slightly guilty shrug.
"Sorry, Lady Bulma."
The headless body sighed and then tensed again as "Lady Bulma" reached to the back of the contraption. "How many times…" struggled, but patient words floated out of the old fashioned looking replicator. "Hand me that adantine circuit we got at I-trade today, would you?" A hand appeared and then quickly disappeared with the requested tool, "…have I asked you…." there were a few grunts and metal clinks, "…NOT… neutron regulator… to call me… almost got it…"
There was an electronic chirp and a fizzled shock. "Ow!" she exclaimed and made and a rapid exit from inside the machine barely missing hitting her head on the top of the hole. "Lady Bulma. It's just Bulma." She sucked on the long cut and burn on her finger.
"As you wish, Lady Bulma." Teed-yar said with an innocent smile. If she hadn't known better she'd have thought him a child. In appearance and sentiment he was, but he was almost ninety years old, and as good with a soldering iron as any earthling engineer. He was a handsmar Yardrat, simple, childlike, peaceful, but not, by any means, stupid. Handsmars often had trouble grasping the idea that their human neighbors and friends did not want to be their superiors. Their deep respect for them kept them from being able to reply with that simple request.
The Headrma, however, understood and could be trusted to only use their first name. They understood that, thought they were revered as "Protts perro o'milan" (House of metal dwellers) among the handsmar and had brought many gifts to the Yardratins they did not seek this notoriety, but only to help and live in peace. They respected the Briefs for their humility and didn't promote their worship among the other part of the population.
Bulma, just sighed and sucked on her finger. Deep down she knew her battle would never be won and stood up to replace the front panel. "Well, I think it's fixed."
Teed-yar smiled up at her. "No more of Duk's stew" Duk was Yardratin for Lord or Great one, and although the small alien looked up to her father, she knew he understood about her father's stew.
"That's right. No more of father's stew." She encapsulated her tools and took her small friend by the hand. "Lets go find him and tell him the good news." She also wanted to get back to her personal lab and putt the finishing touches on her latest invention…
In the long maze-like hallways they passed several smiling Yardrats that waved and greeted them warmly. Bulma couldn't help but smile. These were her friends, this people of small, bright, kind aliens that had welcomed them with open arms, and hadn't taken no as an answer as far as hospitality was concerned.
It was times like these that she wished things would never change. That she would always be safe amongst her blue family, but there was also certain sadness that she felt, knowing that they would not always be safe.
She had found a copy of SISC, (Saiyan's Intergalactic Species Compendium), and looked under Yardrat. It had a few numbers and statistics that she didn't find interesting, but a couple lines at the bottom had stuck out at her and been sitting bad with her ever since.
"The Yardratin are docile, blue humanoids that are the main inhabitants of the Planet Yardrat (Quadrant 716C, Spectronide Galaxy). They are sentient, but primitive, and have no advanced technology. Projected date of Class P6-3 assimilation: 3.29.3856"
She'd looked up Class P6-3 assimilation and found it just the chocolate covered way of saying purge. That had sent her reeling with a momentary panic attack until she realized that it wasn't scheduled for another 200 years or so. The "Primitive Yardrats" weren't a priority, being so far out of the way and just an none technological threat they only required six third class soldiers for the entire planet, or so the empire seemed to think. And Bulma wasn't about to inform them otherwise, but since her family's arrival thirteen years earlier, Dr. Briefs had turned the planet Yardrat from sitting target to well protected fortress.
At first, the doctor had been hesitant about sharing technology with the natives, not wanting to alter their culture and hoping to live in quiet isolation with his wife and daughter. However, after a few weeks of curious Yardrats breaking through his intricate defenses, proving their ability to adapt and understand complex concepts, he opened the doors and let them in.
They quickly learned anything he would teach them, and the doc started to see that the Yardrat weren't primitive because they were stupid, but merely because they had no reason to be otherwise. On the contrary, they were very intelligent, and, after they were convinced by Dr. Briefs of the need for security, extremely inventive and productive.
There were a few conditions, though. After being brought before the Yardrats "Supreme council" they made he promise not to teach them build any weapons or items of destruction. The professor was ok with that, in fact, preferred it, because, although his love for their culture motivated him to try and protect them, he did not want to change their peace loving ways.
That was why, thirteen years later, the planet was equipped with several defensive mechanisms. Sensory equipment controlled from the Briefs own home, an electromagnetic disrupter field around the planets orbit, and a few other localized touches, underground bunkers, energy cloaking devices, and tractor beams were scattered across the face of the small green planet.
There was factory production and mining started by the Yardrats themselves, and anything they couldn't produce naturally they could purchase at I-Trade a solar system over. Dr. Briefs had managed to set up his own private laboratory with inexhaustible resources and unlimited, anxious-to-help workers. It was a dream come true.
Rounding the corner, Bulma and Teed-yar spotted Manka-yar, his family member of some sort. (the Briefs had yet to grasp the Yardrat family system, or even learn how they reproduced… they figured it wasn't polite to ask…)
They spoke briefly in Yardrat, and then Teed-yar begged Bulma's forgiveness, and ran off with his kind on some urgent errand.
'See you later…" she said, amused and continued on her way. As she was rounding the last corner she came face to face with a dark-haired, hunched, and badly scarred man. She shrieked a little and then calmed as she realized who it was. "Oh, Yamcha, you scarred me!" She exclaimed, and hand on her chest.
Yamcha sneered and sniveled a little before retorting defensively. "Sorry, Bulma, I should have a bell around my neck to warn you when I plan to show my ugly face, that way you can run away and avoid me as usual."
"I'm sorry, Yamcha, I didn't mean it like that." Bulma starred at the floor guiltily. "I don't know why you have to get so upset. You just startled me, that's all." Bulma felt bad, because she knew he was partly right. Every time she looked at his face she cringed and wanted to look away.
Kind-hearted as she was, she knew that this hurt him, especially since she knew that he liked her. Logically, they made sense. He was the only human man she could remember ever seeing, besides her father, and they were light years from Chikyuu, but she could hardly stand to be in his presence.
Her parents had found him at I-trade, a slave to a vicious clan of pharynges who had beaten him mercilessly about a year and a half after they had escaped from Chikyuu. He was only nine, and evidently had been a slave for less then a year. News of Gero's exploitation of third world peoples had resulted in such an ethnical and moral monstrosity.
Feeling guilty for abandoning his people to Gero's insidious power, her father and mother had freed the small boy and brought him back with them, but the damage had been done. He'd been violent in the beginning, throwing fits and wreaking whole rooms at once, but Bulma's mother had persisted with unconditional kindness and patience. Eventually he'd calmed down enough to be taught by her mother and then employed by her father. He'd been a great help in the fortifying of the planet, but as the years passed and his affection grew for Bulma, things got difficult. She wanted only to be his friend, and her rejection of him had more caused him to get bitter and resentful, and since her mother's death almost a year before, his moodiness and complaining had gotten almost unbearable.
Bulma had pleaded with her father to send him away, but his fear for the planet's security held his hand. They couldn't risk him running into anyone from the Empire. Intentionally or not, any spilling he might do about their little secret hideout and it would be all over. Gero and the Saiyan Kings would surly bump them to the top of their 'things to destroy this week' list.
"Maybe if you weren't so frail, maybe if you weren't prancing about instead of working like the rest of us, you wouldn't have been here where my hideous face could startle you," he spit hurtfully. He put his face closer to hers, and she was forced to look at the wrinkled red skin that covered half of his face and smell the perpetual stink of burning flesh. She smelt in anytime she was close to him, but figured was more her over active imagination, then really there.
The things he'd been through that year of his life were horrible, and most definitely not his fault, but she couldn't keep from turning her head away and gasping for air.
"That's right, turn from me. Ugly Yamcha, only fit to do the work you see as beneath you, not worth looking at, that's me." He pulled back, snarling and stepping back. Bulma couldn't help sigh in relief. "Someday… You'll.." he stopped and held his face in a disfigured frown. "You're father wants you in the command room."
"Thank you," she peeped and stepped around him, fighting not to run down the hall to her father's call.
"That's right, I’m just the messenger, not worth your spit, but one day…" Yamcha sneered and then followed her down the hall, limping slowly.
***
"Any idea where we are?" The tall Saiyan king asked angrily. He sounded like he was about to start blasting lieutenants. After being pulled from hyper-sleep, he'd been informed by a now deceased soldier that they were "lost."
"No, My Liege, we are still having trouble with our navigation computer." The captain of the ship said bravely, "My estimate is we are somewhere in the Lukra or Spectronide galaxies. One of our best technicians is working on fixing it as we speak."
"I don't want your estimates, I want to know where we are. The King of the Great Saiyan Empire does not get lost!"
"We're doing all we can…"
"And we're just supposed to cruise blindly through space until you get the damned thing fixed?!" the king shouted? When there was only oppressed silence, he consciously calmed himself and lowered his voice. It wasn't wise to panic.
"Gero, why don't you go have a look at it? Your supposed to be a technical genius after all."
The old man leaning casually against the far wall shrugged. He'd been awakened with the king and joined him on the bridge a few minutes earlier. "Space navigation isn't my specialty, but I'll have a look." He followed a petty officer out of the room with a confident stride and left the king to his ranting.
"Sir, scanners have picked up a habitable planet only 14,000 parsecs from out current location and closing," one of the pilots called out.
"Scan it for energy readings…" the Captain started.
"Don't bother," King Vegeta scowled pridefully, "Saiyans don't stop for directions. Just get the damned thing fixed. I'll be in my quarters."
***'
"Sir, the ship is closing fast. Readings now indicate a small Saiyan royal transport. Energy scans are picking up two dozen regular Saiyan readings, and six or so higher level readings, three of which are extremely high." The words stuck Bulma as she entered into her father's control room.
She exchanged nervous glances with her father, Yamcha's harassment forgotten, and stood against the railing with her serious looking father.
"It's probably safe to assume that the king is aboard, as well as the prince and possible Lord Frieza of the Koldin Clan of the Planet Icera, as well as a couple elite soldiers… What are we going to do, father?" Behind them Yamcha entered silently and placed himself in the shadows against the back wall.
Dr. Briefs ignored his daughters frightened tone. "Are they on an intercept course?" he asked the small Yardratin sitting at the front of the room. There was a tense pause and then…
"No, it looks like their course passes right by us. Then must just be on their way through." Everyone sighed.
"Good, radio all the settlements, tell them to put up their energy cloaking shields and lay low. With any luck they won't even notice we're here."
Yamcha took that as his cue to slither up next to the professor and whisper in his ear, "What could the king, the prince, and the kings right-hand man be doing all the way out here?"
It was the question they were all afraid to ask. If Bulma's assumption was correct, then what were the odds of the king an his closest subjects doing out here on the edge of known space?
"And if Frieza is with the king," Yamcha continued, "the what's the likely hood that Gero is with him also?" Complete silence.
"Is there any extremely low power readings onboard?" Briefs asked.
"I didn't see any… oh, wait, there it is. One human range reading." More silence
"10000 parsecs and closing." Pause.
"Have they sent and sub-light communications since coming into range of our sensors?"
"No, sir."
"Isn't this fate? Here's your chance to bring that traitor to his knees…" Yamcha tempted.
"The last thing I want is the three most powerful monsters in the universe pissed off and on Yardrat. We wouldn't stand a chance."
"That's not true. You know Bulma's completed her little secret weapon, with that you could bring the empire crashing down. You could save the universe. The opportunity had been handed to you…. take it while you have the chance."
"5000 parsecs."
"Sir, don't let this slip through your fingers…"
"Shut up, Yamcha." Bulma hissed. "We're not ready. People would die, and I'm not sure…"
"Who would die, them or us?"
"3000 parsecs."
"I'm not sure we could deal with them anyway. My invention hasn't been tested yet. I don't know what side effects it could have. They might be permanently damaged, or worse, killed."
"Good, better for us and the rest of the universe!" Yamcha argued.
"No!" Dr. Briefs interrupted. "Enough! I will not risk becoming them, even to stop them.
"1000 parsecs. They will soon be passing by," came a Yardrat's mechanical reply.
"Put it on screen," the doctor ordered softly. A satellite image of the ship appeared on the front wall. Bulma glanced sideways at her father. She knew he wanted to do just as Yamcha said. Take them down, make them pay, but he was too good a man, to kind a person to be able to.
On the other side of her father she could see Yamcha seething. Bitter and vengeful he had more reason to hate Gero more then any of them. He had seen, first hand, the changes Gero's power hungry appetite had made on Chikyuu. He'd dissolved the council, taken total control and handed it over to the Saiyan's rule in return for complete control. Over the years they had heard news through travelers at I-trade. Gero had been climbing the ladder with his technical achievements by making weapons beyond any man's imagining. He'd turned Chikyuu into a wasteland, mining his resources and exploiting the general populous until the human race was not much more then slaves, miners, and drifters. And Vegeta and Frieza were worse.
Her father would be completely just in ridding the galaxy of the tyrants, but no. Bulma knew they would pass safely by and go on their merry path-of-death-and-destruction way.
On the screen a small explosion rocked the aft side of the spaceship.
"What the hell?" Her father exclaimed. "Geedge-yar, what happened?" he leaned frantically over the railing, but kept his eyes fixed on the screen watching the speeding ship start to tilt from the explosion and move towards the planet's atmosphere.
"There appears to have been an explosion, caused possibly from impact with a foreign object, or maybe it was something internal…" Geedge-yar's voice faded off as everyone watched in horror a the ship began sinking towards Yardrat.
***
His world was red and glowing, and there was noise, painful shouting and roaring. Prince Vegeta's newly wakened senses flinched under the blaring environment. His head was pounding and swimming as he tried focusing his eyes.
'Where am I?" he wondered, taking in the class in front of him and the metal room with out. 'Spaceship…home from diplomatic voyage… Mayoshins…' Things were slowly clearing up. 'Something is wrong… the alarms… why did I wake up…?'
Suddenly his whole world was shuddering and roaring and he felt his brain rattle inside his head. 'An explosion… We're under attack? Who would dare attack a Saiyan royal transport ship? They must be insane…' and then everything went dark and silent.
After a second, a few emergency lights came on, but that was it. Gravity kicked in slowly and the price sank to the floor of his stasis pod. He still felt incredibly weak, the dead of hyper sleep having not worn off yet, but he managed to put a hand on the glass in front of him. Pushing was no use, his arms were still numb.
'I have to get out, have to push free.' He tried, but he couldn't get his limbs to respond, the pain in his head was still throbbing.
A face appeared on the other side of the casing. White skin, blood red lips and eyes… "Frieza…" the Prince whispered. "What's happening?" He said weakly, struggling to straighten his neck and hold his head high.
"What?" Frieza held a hand to the side of his head. There was a mocking smile on his lips that froze Vegeta's blood.
"There's just been a change in flight plan. Instead of Vegetasei, you'll be getting an all expense paid trip to the next dimension." The white Icein held up a hand and prepared to blast him in his weakened state.
Vegeta had never liked his father's advisor and right hand man, and now he knew why. "Coward…" Vegeta whispered, rolling his head to the side and trying to get feeling to his right side. 'If only I can reach the eject pad…'
Frieza only grinned and collected his energy. Vegeta closed his eyes and prayed for a chance for revenge in the next life…
"Frieza! Something's wrong! I can't get anything but life support online…" In the split second that Frieza's head was turned, Vegeta's eyes flew open and he made one last attempt to escape. Flopping his numb hand against the front panel of stasis pod he managed to spend the last of his energy and hit the escape launch button by his right hand.
Frieza was too late to realize the metal walls closing around the Prince's case and by the time he released his small blast, the circular pod was already streaming towards planet fall. His ki blast nearly rocked it slightly off course, and his curses could be heard throughout the dead floating ship.
***
Bulma's eyes were wide with fear as she watched the second explosion shake the small spacecraft. It was falling straight towards the planet. A few seconds later they saw the ship go dark and shudder as it hit the planet's protective field.
"Dammit, Geedge-yar, What's going on up there?"
"I believe there was a second impact, sir, and now the ship is caught in our electroma…"
"I can see that, but why?" Dr. Briefs sounded frantic.
The small blue alien turned respectfully in his seat and looked at them with sad eyes. "I don't know, sir, but it looks like we're going to have some visitors." The frantic air seemed to want to scream, but there was only the sound of electric machinery buzz, and agitated breathing.
Bulma's heart seemed to stop in her chest. 'But we're not ready! Just one more day, one day of warning, but not now… ' she thought, her mind was a whirl with all the implications, all the plans that needed to be made in an instant or they were all doomed. 'Run and hide, little friends!' she wanted to yell, but instead her attention was pulled back to the screen.
"Dad, there's a pod!" She pointed and watched as the sphere released from the ship, was rocked by a flash of light and then fell from view towards the atmosphere. Things seemed to move in slow motion. Everyone was silent, but frightened and things were rapidly falling to shit.
"I hope your ready, 'cause here they come…" Yamcha said with half a smirk. It seemed he would be getting his way after all.
The room sprang into action as Dr. Briefs started shouting orders. "Yama-yar, get that pod in a tractor beam. Try and put it down outside of Mandrain-drat, as soft as possible. Geedge-yar, watch the ship. Anymore pods disperse I want them all set down together. They'll be too far out of range by now, but maybe you can contact Yakar-drat and get them to put them down in the Splangy desert or somewhere nearby that's unpopulated. Bulma, get your new invention, Dragy-yar, go with her, bring back the specs to me, I want to get them in production as soon as possible. After you send the specs with Dragy-yar, Bulma I want you out to that pods crash sight ASAP. Bring whoever it is back alive, and don't get yourself killed."
"Yes, father," she replied, jumping forward, Dragy-yar behind her. She raced to her private lab, her mind still anxious, but definitely more at peace. Her father knew what he was doing. He would save them all.
***
"Gero, what's going on?!" the Saiyan King demanded as he stepped into the stasis room.
"I'm not sure, My liege, we seemed to have hit something. All power is down, except life support. We have to escape ."
The king watched Gero as he moved swiftly for an old human, launching the rest of their company, Nappa, Raditz, Bardock and Frieza, who was now siting quietly in his pod waiting for launch.
Climbing back into his own empty pod, Gero waved frantically to King Vegeta. "Sire, now."
"Where's my son?" the king asked suspiciously, noticing that the princes pod had not been there when he'd entered.
"Your son Vegeta has already launched, and we must go, too." Gero assured the tall man. When the king hesitated he added, "The planed is habitable, your highness. He will be fine."
"Of course he will. He's the prince of the strongest race alive…" the king began anther racial pride rant as he climbed into his own pod. "He is one of the strongest ever, a legendary, a little thing like this is nothing to him!" he was still talking as the class slid down. Hitting the emergency launch pad with his fist he watched the metal doors close around his forming pod as he yelled, "LONG LIVE VEGETA!" and launched into the atmosphere, Gero right behind him.