Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Awakening of Radditz ❯ 1 ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Disclaimer

*Shakes fist at Akira Toriyama*

“This is all your bloody fault!! YOU created them”!! >.<

“The directive was simple… Draw big, dumb violent, overly muscular aliens with monkey tails…

You weren't supposed to make them so sexy”!!

*Strokes Bardock's tail and gazes up at him adoringly*

“I want to own you…”

*Bardock `Hmphs' and rolls his eyes*

“Yeah well, tough. Toriyama-san, Toei Animation, Bird Studios and a bunch of other people do… Now get off me.” >.<

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Now, for the purposes of this fic, we have to pretend that… *Gulp*… Vejiitasei… wasn't… des… troy… ed…

*Bites lips and large tears well up in eyes*

*Bardock sighs resignedly, unfolds arms and gently pats Bardockgurl's shoulder*

“There, there.”

Owwww

Beta kudos go to: Susan, LisaB and, of course, MelizaMac.

… I'll shut up now…

Oh… except for this…

The Awakening of Radditz

Celipa groaned quietly to herself as she eased her jarred body out of the pod. It had been a rough landing - the gravity fields of this particular planet seemed to be shot to hell. No wonder the son of Bardock had not returned from his infant purging mission.

Rubbing at her stiffening neck muscles, she gave in to her curiosity and leaned over to switch the computer console back on. From the launch to landing; gravitational adjustments, a stasis generator for the longer journeys, life support functions, hull shields - all were controlled by this one small device housed in the pod's hatch.

Once the screen blinked back into life, she tapped in the commands to run a complete check. Her tail twitched in agitation as she waited, then a small smile crossed her face as `System Functional' messages scrolled up the screen. Thank the gods for technological advances; there would be no problems making it back to the ship. She wouldn't be stuck here on this gods-forsaken backwater planet on this insanely futile mission that she had volunteered for.

Celipa levitated slowly out of the crater, her tail snaking firmly around her waist as she kept a keen eye out for any possible obstacles to her mission. Nothing had registered on her scouter; well, nothing that she had any cause to be concerned about anyway… but, Celipa was Saiya-jin - she was always on the look out for a possible fight. She was almost disappointed when she landed in what was left of a deserted clearing.

Her eyes flicked dispassionately over her surroundings. It was one of the more picturesque worlds she'd seen in her long, bloody career in the planet trade. Her feet were nestled in rich, dark green grass. Through a gap in the lush foliage of the tall trees, a large body of deep blue water glinted in the rays of the low-lying… single sun. She blinked in mild surprise as she scanned the clear, bright blue sky for another. None. Celipa couldn't recall the last time she'd seen such an anomaly. That natural phenomenon alone would have increased the asking price for this fertile world. What the hell had happened here twenty years ago?

She hunched up her shoulders slightly against the chill in the air, and clicked the side button on her scouter three times. The `Bio Search' flickered into life on the lens, and she sent up a small prayer to whatever gods would listen to her that the range would be sufficient to cover the huge lump of rock she found herself on. The records had stated that this was a large planet, and from what she'd seen from the window of the pod, it had to be fully twice the size of Vejiitasei - no slouch in the planetary size league itself. She focused on the readings her scouter was giving her; nothing remotely approaching even a lower class Saiya-jin power level was showing up.

She should have known it wouldn't be easy. Sighing impatiently, she re-calibrated the range and tried again.

Nothing. All she seemed to be picking up were the readings of the local fauna - some pretty impressive fauna at that. That did not bode well. Bardock's appetite was legendary - even amongst a race as voracious as the Saiya-jin. If his pup were still alive, it would seem reasonable that the edible creatures of this planet would have been seriously depleted.

Bloody Bardock - this was all his fault . . .

If he had ever taken notice of anything beyond the next battle, this could all have been sorted out years ago. Now, curiosity - and sheer boredom - compelled her to see this through. The grass flattened in the back-draught as she launched herself into the air; perhaps a quick visual sweep would yield some results. She powered up and, turning north, raced over the Radditz-free continent on which she had landed and crossed the twinkling blue ocean at high altitude. Occasionally, when the wind ruffling through her hair brought on the odd, happy-ish sensation that flight could conjure up in her, she would swoop down toward the ocean and enjoy the cold splash of the water on her skin as it churned and sprayed in her wake.

The next land mass came into sight all too soon for her, and she circled high above it, eagle eyes scanning the terrain for the most habitable spot. She picked out a likely place, and swept down for a low altitude, grid formation sweep of the area, recalling an enlightening conversation that was played out against a backdrop of angry oaths and the dull thud of flesh-covered bone connecting with flesh-covered bone.

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It had started out innocuously enough… Bardock had gathered the crew together at the rowdiest bar in the rowdiest quadrant of the rowdiest city on Vejiitasei. Their mission for the night: Take Celipa's mind off the forthcoming purge that she was being forced to miss . . .

Naturally enough, the conversation had swiftly turned to that very subject. As the big talk of taking the purgees down - superior ki or no superior ki - was bandied about, Celipa let it all wash over her. She sat back, chewed her lip and reflected that the one time a purge, which required a full eight adult squads - each one with at least one member capable of producing the ever effective, Oozaru inducing power ball - came up, she was missing out on it, and for something that really wasn't her fault . . .

The Saiya-jin were a destructive race, easily given to acts of extreme violence on the flimsiest of pretexts. When it came to their own, however, even the Saiya-jin had standards; and killing superior officers was definitely frowned upon. She hadn't meant to kill him, she'd just got “Caught up in the moment,” (the stock excuse that the whole squad used when their rioting got a little out of hand.) She may have been on punishment detail for her little transgression, but she didn't regret blasting Squad Commander Reisho's head off. No one insulted her squad brothers and got away with it.

The disciplinary hearing hadn't been a highpoint of her career. As her Commanding Officer, Bardock had escorted her there. His clipped footfalls had punctuated each sharp, terse sentence that his dangerously quiet voice had spat out. Even by Bardock's standards his mood was foul; the prospect of going into a difficult purge one soldier down was not something that he relished. Had she no concept of her duty as a warrior? Did she not realise that senior officers were supposed to command some respect?? Even if they were arseholes…

The last part had been barely audible, the faintest whisper under his breath, but she'd caught it. Celipa had stopped idly gazing around her, as she'd been doing all throughout Bardock's invective, and gave him her full attention. She blew out a soft sceptical breath as she cast a sidelong glance at her Commander. Who did the old bastard think he was fooling? He was just pissed that she'd beaten him to the kill.

A blur of movement - caught out of the corner of her eye - dragged her thoughts back to the here and now. The bar had been open for all of half an hour and yet the first fight had only just begun. Eh, just two lowest class, lowest strength nobodies with spilled drinks. It looked like it was going to be a slow night.

Neither Bardock nor his crew had even bothered to glance over at the scuffle - if it hadn't drawn blood yet it just wasn't worth it. Toma's voice drifted into her consciousness as he launched into a monologue regarding uppity alien races, and how they wouldn't be quite so uppity when faced with fifty feet of bone-crushing Oozaru. Celipa quickly shut him out and scanned the less savoury drinkers present, trying to figure which of them would be providing the next floor show.

There. Two rival crews - she knew of them from their… colourful… reputations - were sitting across from each other, trading murderous eye-meets from over the rims of their tankards, drinking steadily and swiftly. Not enough to get them really drunk, but enough to add a touch of near-suicidal recklessness to their brawl when it happened. Now it was just a question of sitting back and waiting until it happened.

Totepo had also zoned out Toma's bluster. His attention was drawn to Celipa's unusual silence, and tense, sullen features. The bald, grey tinged warrior was by far the eldest of the crew; as such he tended to take on an almost patriarchal role in the group. Advice was given, whether it was wanted or not. He was a fine warrior, capable of inflicting severe damage on most of his squad brethren, so the others held him in respect, and the advice was listened to, if not always heeded. Even the belligerent Bardock - capable of snapping Totepo like a twig - accepted his counsel with little more than a snarl.

Totepo's dark, heavy brows drew together, and a look passed across his face that would have sent most races fleeing from him in terror. By the Saiya-jin bar however, the look was best described as kindly - paternal even, as he made a small attempt to steer the conversation away from the upcoming, much anticipated purge. He leaned over, and one thick finger dug sharply into the solid flesh of Celipa's shoulder.

“Remember the purge on that small green planet in the Trazian Nebular?” His dark eyes narrowed as he tried to recall the name of the unfortunate planet… eh, what did it matter? Its' time was long gone, and the new owners had probably given it a name of their choosing. “How he,” Totepo pointed to Toma, “Ran down a whole crowd of the vermin into the Great Hall, and brought the Imperial Residence down around our heads when the fool blasted them all at once?”

Toma immediately looked discomfited, and raised his voice over the resultant mutterings of half-annoyed amusement.

“That was Bardock's fault, not mine…” Toma's jaw set as he shot an accusing glance over to his Commander. “He was the one who offered a night with that whore he picked up from Dronius for the one who had the biggest score. Who could resist that? Dronian whores are noted for their…”

“And you thought it was a good idea to try to get your share in one go?” Bardock raised one sardonic eyebrow, his voice cutting through the noise with quiet authority. He shook his head with mock pity. “I didn't realise you were that desperate to get a female in your bed.”

The roar of their laughter was accompanied by a roar of anger and a flaring of ki's as the rival crews' animosity finally spilled over into direct action. Celipa looked up, her attention divided between the promising looking fight, the thoroughly enjoyable sight of Toma's discomfort, and unpleasant remembrance of the incident Totepo had cited. She'd borne the brunt of that escapade. She'd been toying with a far smaller group of the doomed planet's citizens, and was just preparing for the finishing blow when more than 20 feet of hard and heavy wall had suddenly slammed her into the ground. Having small particles of building materials wedged between armour and skin and her dust covered fingers trying in vain to clear her dust covered hair for the entire, uncomfortable journey back to Vejiitasei was not something she liked . . . She'd have to remember to pay Toma back for that one day.

Another harsh bellow of laughter hit her ears, and she realised that she'd missed Toma's retort. Judging by the sullen set of his face, and the arms defensively folded across his chest, the hardened battle veteran had not been able to win this particular war of wits.

“Saiya-jin females must have improved their tastes recently,” Totepo said, casually batting away a tankard that had been flying directly at his face

“It's a shame your dam didn't improve her tastes before she bred with whatever low rank, tailless runt that sired an underpowered, useless whelp like you,” Toma snarled at him as yet another fight erupted around them.

These young bloods were not going for the slow-burn tactics of the rival crews' fight. A table crashed to the floor as they leapt at each other; the air was heavy with the snapping of bones and spattering of blood as lightning fast blows were traded.

A quick glance had told Bardock all he needed to know about the fight - too fast, too furious. Untried pups rushing toward completion with the fury of youth.

“Oi” He raised his drink and smirked. “A toast to whores everywhere, for without them, where would Toma be?”

“You know what's a real shame?” Panboukin broke into the laughter, trying to save his friend's face, recalling a long, eventful conversation with his youngest brat, freshly returned from her first mission. “Who here can remember their infant purge? There's not one of us here has anything but a gut feeling - a stirring of our blood, about our first kill. No real memories. If the planet had a moon, we were Oozaru, and completely out of control, or too young to do anything but blast indiscriminately. We can't recall the urgency of the time, the “do or die” factor.”

“I think I sent one off on his first purge a couple of weeks ago…” Toma said, brow furrowed, trying to remember exactly when it was. It was a sickly brat, a power level under 30 - unlikely to make it back. He mentally shrugged; maybe it will, maybe it won't. It's not like there wouldn't be others to replace it.

Bardock's experienced eye noticed that the youth's fight had already ended - all done and dusted within minutes. No appreciation of the finesse of battle, or the beauty of delayed gratification. They'd learn in time… the ones who were alive, anyway.

“It was over two months ago, idiot,” Celipa came back at Toma. “The brat you had with Seleri, right?”

“I suppose so - you keeping track of me?” He leaned toward her and lowered his voice seductively. “Want me for yourself?” Toma's eyebrows wriggled up and down in a half-joking attempt at flirting.

Celipa rolled her eyes, and her voice dripped icy contempt as she shot back,

“Seleri and I share the same set of parents. We do keep in contact occasionally.”

“Panboukin has made a very good point though, that first kill must be a thrill.” Totepo's grave voice cut in. He looked questioningly at Toma, “Did you feel anything when the brat was sent off?”

“No, but perhaps the next one might be worth worrying about. I'll see how I feel then.” As he mentioned `the next one', Toma winked at Celipa, who met his look with her most derisive snort.

Panboukin's watchful eye took in the number of empty flagons in front of Totepo - no wonder he'd been taking an unusually active part in the conversation. And there was Bardock, who sat in an uncharacteristic silence, making no effort to add his usually forthright contribution to any subject you'd care to mention. Never mind, it was time to crow; his daughter was strong, and he wanted the others to know all about it. He immediately launched into a long tale about her exploits; how she'd single-handedly decimated a large populace (not all destroyed when she was Oozaru,) mentioning several times that she'd made it back planet-side earlier than anyone expected. Heh, and there were those that never made it back…

A dim memory suddenly flared in Toma's mind, and he began to be disturbed by the turn the conversation had taken. He cleared his throat loudly, trying to catch everyone's eye and shooting furtive looks in Bardock's direction. It wasn't normally part of his nature, but joking - and the occasional broken bone - aside, Bardock was his friend; he felt that something needed to be said.

“It's a damned pity that Radditz never made it back.”

Everyone, with the exception of Celipa, fell silent as realisation dawned on them, and three sets of guilt-laden eyes were aimed in Bardock's direction.

Bardock's face darkened, and his eyes lowered to look at the table as his dark, thick brows drew closer together. His mouth set in a thin, tight line, and a broken bottle passed unnoticed, dangerously close to his ear.

“He had a great deal of promise…” Toma trailed lamely.

Bardock chewed silently on his cheek for a few tense moments, while his fingers drummed with a steadily increasing rate on the table. Fathomless black eyes were slowly raised and regarded his crew with a blood-chilling glare.

“Who's Radditz?”

The three males looked at Bardock in total astonishment. Trust him… It wasn't pain on his face. It wasn't bitter remembrance. The look they'd mistaken for sorrow for a lost warrior - and child - was nothing more than simple confusion.

“Who is Radditz?” Celipa demanded. There was something, something big, that she'd missed out on here, and she wanted to know what it was - now. Toma leaned in, painfully aware of the crossed armed, glowering presence of Bardock, and whispered the whole story to her.

“You didn't know you had a child?” Celipa's eyes widened in disbelief.

“Of course I knew. I have two sons.” Bardock mumbled into his drink, his eyes lowered to hide the flicker of guilt. It wasn't that he'd forgotten exactly - it had just slipped his memory; he had a lot on his mind these days, he reasoned with himself.

The brawl over to their left kicked up a notch. Ki's reached battle levels, and the muted thwacking sounds of blows landing became far less muted as more force was put behind each carefully aimed blow. Instinct kicked in, and as one the group raised their drinks and shifted slightly back. Seconds later a large, heavy body crashed into the table. Panboukin's large, meaty hand was raised quickly to shield his drink from the blood that spurted up from the body as it rebounded from the table and crashed into his ample lap. With a cold blooded, narrow-eyed glare at the inert form that had so nearly cost him his drink, he fastened his hand around its' throat, and with a slight flex of his wrist, casually tossed it back into the fray. Toma wedged his right foot underneath the heavy, ferrous alloy table - Saiya-jin bars always kept a watchful eye out for profits - and flipped it back upright. They all eased their chairs forward and settled back down.

“I can't be expected to remember every little thing that's ever happened to me.” Bardock growled, folding his arms across his chest and glowering around defensively.

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And there it was . . . the reason that she'd taken leave of her senses, and the bit between her teeth, and wound up here. Looking for the lost son who may very well be dead.

It had been relatively easy to get the information she needed about Radditz and his abortive mission - and very surprising to find that since the inception of the Infant Launch & Eradicate program the non-Saiya-jin flight co-ordinators kept detailed records of every dispatched brat

Every whelp sent off for the past 150 years was recorded in the data banks. Their return dates were logged; their success rates were scrupulously recorded. How large a populace they had destroyed, how quickly they had destroyed it, whether they had made it back early, on time or late. There were marks by the names of the early returnees; their ranks automatically moved up by one.

Radditz was there. Sad, blank stats followed his name like so many others, the missing, presumed dead. Their failure immortalised forever in the cold glare of a computer screen. She dismissed the legions of missing cubs with true Saiya-jin impartiality, and took down the name and co-ordinates of the planet she was after.

Actually getting to the planet proved even easier. Economics had dictated that Bardock's team and the others assigned to the purge would be sent by fleet carrier - Toma had once, inadvertently, saved the life of the Ship's Commander. He called in the favour, and sneaking an extra pod aboard proved no problem. It was passing near the planet that Radditz had been assigned; no one would care about one pod temporarily missing from ships stock. With a little pressure applied from both Toma and Bardock, the Commander had grudgingly agreed to arrange a lift back on her sister ship, which would be passing reasonably close to Celipa three days after her landing. If she was in their space, they would pick her up. If not, she would have to wait for the crews to finish their missions. Fleet Carriers, Toma and Bardock were reminded with some force, were not taxi services for roaming Saiya-jin.

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She smelt the site before she saw it; her sensitive hunter's nostrils picked up the heady aroma of a fresh kill and set her mouth watering. She slowed her pace and followed the scent. A small thrill of excitement shot through her when she saw the large clearing, it had definite signs of habitation - had she found what she was looking for?

Keeping herself alert, she landed silently, cautiously. She could smell something here, but she couldn't see it. She crouched down into an attack position, and scanned the area. Whatever was here had been here for some time. The bleached bones of long dead prey littered the floor, skins were pegged out to dry on the larger skeletons. The source of the delicious smell of fresh meat and blood lay off to one side. The still-steaming, half-eaten carcass of a huge predator, felled by something even more dangerous, gave her a good feeling - this definitely looked like the work of a Saiya-jin appetite. True to her Saiya-jin stomach, Celipa reached out and ripped a large chunk of raw flesh from it.

The sharp snapping sound of breaking bone roused what she had assumed to be a pile of discarded skins. A low, menacing growl came from the pile as it rose from the ground - and kept on rising…

Her large, black eyes took on an unfamiliar spark of surprise as whatever it was reared up to its' full height before her. It seemed to be made up entirely of animal skins and hair - lots and lots of long, black hair. Celipa looked the creature up and down, wondering what the hell it was, then saw what she needed to confirm her suspicions.

Behind the huge boy, weaving about freely and carelessly unguarded, was a familiar looking, thick brown tail… She was face to face with what could only be Bardock's brat.

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I… I HAD to end it there… I think I need traction for my shoulder…

Bardock : That was mean - you left `em hanging with no sex in this chapter.

Well, it's your bloody fault - you're the one who `patted' my shoulder, besides, no one makes it past the author's notes, anyway…

Ohhh - shall I say that I won't update until I get at least 1 million reviews?? ^_^

Bardock : Only if you want to look even more pathetic than you already do.

Eh, they'd know I was lying, anyway.