Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unspoken ❯ Termination ( Chapter 8 )

Unspoken

 

 

 

Chapter 8 - Termination

 

The arena is packed with screaming Saiya-jins. I am suddenly glad Brolli had never dragged me to the public executions these monkeys are notorious for. Nothing elaborate, just about a mile of ground encircled by foul smelling angry Saiya-jins waiting to observe their favorite past time, murder. But for once I am as excited to witness bloodshed as an infant Saiya-jin on his first purging mission. My former owner's death is finally here.

 

The festivities begin when Vegeta walks into the center of the arena. Radditz informs me that word spread like wildfire of Brolli's impending execution. He is revered as the strongest among the elites, possibly even having surpassed the former King Vegeta. Many believe the coming battle will be less decisive than when Vegeta first claimed the crown.

 

Radditz and I are in Vegeta's private royal box. We watch, in my case only watch since my ears are not sensitive enough to make out what Vegeta decrees. I do, however, hear clearly the cursing of the crowd around me. Some are barbaric generalities.

 

“Kill him!”

 

“Yeah, beat the hell out of each other!”

 

Others are more specific in the outcomes they prefer.

 

“You show our so-called king what an elite is made of, Brolli!”

 

“Make that bastard pay for thinking he is above law, highness!”

 

Apposing views of the like case some skirmishes to break out around us. Under normal circumstances I should be frightened by the very real danger surrounding me, but all I can think about is Vegeta and Brolli. Theirs is the only battle that means anything to me.

 

I growl in frustration as Vegeta begins a short exchange with Brolli I cannot make out. I can only imagine the two men taunting each other. Their hatred runs deep, mostly because physically they are rivals, and nothing raises a Saiya-jin male's testosterone level more than a feud over one's abilities on the battlefield.

 

Eventually Vegeta says something that sends Brolli into a rage. He powers up and attacks the King. He hits Vegeta hard, sending him flying across the arena. I sit forward, my entire body stiff with fear as the scene unfolds. That fear must be visible upon my face, because Radditz astutely assures me, “He will be victorious. Do not doubt that.”

 

Radditz's assurance does little to calm me as I watch Vegeta get back to his feet. He powers up and then launches himself back at Brolli. I am suddenly torn between wanting to witness Brolli's every last aching breath, verses not having to witness Vegeta taking a beating of his own. I find myself alternating between looking at the match and away.

 

Before long my stomach beings to ache. I lower my head, covering my mouth. I feel Radditz's hand on my back. “What is wrong?”

 

“I don't know.” I shake my head. After all of the atrocities I have witnessed over the years, I thought I could stomach seeing Brolli's murder. I want to see it, I need to see it, but for some reason I lean forward, feeling bile rise in the back of my throat. “I think I am going to be sick.”

 

“You don't look very good.” Radditz informs me, before helping me to my feet. “You may be having some kind of belated reaction to the drug Brolli gave you. You need to be tested. I will take you to a medic.”

 

“No, you can't.” I try to stop him. “I have to see this. I have to see him die! I am entitled to that!”

 

“I am sure Vegeta will be able to accurately retell the events in great detail once it is over. Right now, he would want me to see to your health.” I open my mouth to object, but instead I end up jerking my head away as the last meal I enjoyed comes back in a much less appealing form. “You are definitely being examined.” Radditz lifts me into the air and departs through a discrete exit in the arena.

 

As we begin to move further and further away from an execution I have waited five devastating years for, I cannot help but feel my eyes water. For so long I have dreamed of Brolli's death. How could fate be so cruel as to keep me from finally witnessing it?

 

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“Had enough?” I taunt. He puts up a good fight, but the bastard is no match for me. Anyone who believes otherwise is a fool.

 

He launches himself at me once more, and I respond by leveling a swift blow to his throat, taking out his ability to speak. The symmetry of silencing Brolli before his demise seems fitting after the cage of silence he trapped Bulma in for five years. Much of me wants this man to suffer. I have my own motives for hating him, but now I find myself applying Bulma's reasons as well.

 

My body shakes; my ki rises as I think of the suffering he has inflicted upon her. Sweat coats my skin as I allow myself a breath before my next attack. I am playing with him. He knows it. The crowd knows it. They cheer for it. They came for a show; I am giving it to them with every moment I allow my adversary to live.

 

My eyes glide back toward the royal box Radditz and Bulma are seated in. I am taken aback as I find it empty. Where the hell would they go at a time like this? A fist comes across my face and I fall back. I should never have let my guard down, not for a moment. I swing back, returning the blow. Brolli staggers back, and I revert to my previous taunting since he dared to strike me off guard.

 

“She's nice and warm inside. Soft, sleek, wet, the way she begs me to fill her...” I fabricate the reminiscence. “It kills you to know I am the one she truly wants, doesn't it? To know that I am to her what you always wanted to be. The little slave girl you could not tame completely crumbles under my mere touch.” He attacks futilely. I become bored with my wasted effort. I want to end this, but not before clearly stating why he is dieing.

 

My hand wraps around his throat. He is on his knees before me. “I must tell you, Brolli, I am mildly shocked by your actions. Your obsession is so potent for this woman that you were willing to risk dieing to possess her once more. Do you realize how absurd that is?”

 

His lips part, he cannot speak, but I can read the words he is mouthing. “She was mine!” the large man insanely vows. My lips turn down in disgust. That is all he can still think of? He truly is an embarrassment to our kind. I cannot imagine what would happen if it became universal knowledge how easily an alien woman could ensnare one of our own elites.

 

“No, Brolli, her body was yours,” I futilely attempt to advise him of the truth in his last minute of life. “That was the only part of her you ever had, but never again. I will make her forget you ever existed.” The expression on Brolli's face changes, and I realize he is beginning to understand the mess he has made for himself, the insanity he has wrought upon himself. However, it is too late.

 

I gather my ki and unleash it in a spectacle that has the crowd awed. When the dust clears, I see Brolli's body fall sideways to the ground. The hole I have left in his chest is proof of his death. “Take note of this!” I bellow to the crowd once I catch my breath, “I will show no mercy for disrespect. What I own is not to be touched! I am your king. I am your better, and I will not tolerate insurrection!” My eyes fly to Nappa, who has witnessed the massacre from a front row seat. 

 

He is next on my hit list and he knows it. I will not have him attempt the lunacy Brolli has. “Make no mistake, I am not like my father. I have used this man to prove a point to you all. We are a race of warriors, not whores. One of your elites was just broken by an obsession with a slave! A fucking slave! And you all question my dislike of the Seriichi. Look at what it is doing to us. Look at what it is doing to the pride of our people!” Why not make a political play now that I have their fearful attention?

 

“You would have us shut it down?” Nappa dares to ask. He means to attack me politically when he knows he cannot do so physically. “Brolli was an exclusive case. If anything it was that damn woman! She is some kind of witch. You should kill her.” A cheer comes from a few of the men behind him. For a moment I am concerned the conversation is heading in a direction I will not be able to control, until a new voice enters the fold.

 

“He is not an exclusive case!” a female voice from behind me shouts. I turn around to see a short Saiya-jin woman step forward. “The father of two of my sons owns a slave that has been dragging him around by his balls since he bought her. He is so obsessed that when I tried to kill her, he beat me. He favored a dirty alien over me! Me! A pure blooded Saiya-jin woman!”

 

“My mate has done the same!” I hear another woman speak up. I turn to face her. “I am sick of fighting weaklings for the attention of my mate when I can not even go out and purchase a man for myself from the Seriichi. We can not indulge like you lechers can!”

 

“There is a reason for that. We outnumber you women five to one. You should not need imported men!” a male voice from the crowd screams. All at once a debate ensues. I find this interesting. I am suddenly curious as to whether the reason my kind are so obsessed with the Seriichi is merely a matter of sexual necessity or an attraction more dangerous to our kind than I had initially imagined.

 

“Enough!” I roar, the crowd silences. “Our women will be heard.”

 

“Oh, we hear them alright. But what they want is insanity! Shut down the Seriichi? Free all of our women? I'll go to war before I give up my slaves!” a man to Nappa's right insists.

 

“Thank you for so passionately proving my point!” the initial woman who spoke voices from behind me.

 

“Be careful what you men wish for,” another female speaks up. “You may just have a war on your hands if you do not consider meeting one of our demands. Either get rid of your women or start importing men. We want equality in the slave market.”

 

“Absolutely not!” I hear Nappa bellow. “What happens when one of those filthy alien men start impregnating you women? We will have half-breeds living on the planet we don't even know about!”

 

Cursing, screaming and shoving begin as the two sides of debate continue. The men squabble more loudly, but only because there are more of them. I had not realized how fervent the women were on this issue. It could prove to be quite beneficial to me. “If I were you, Nappa, I would be more worried about pureblooded Saiya-jins being born, because if you retain this strict discrimination, you men will find yourselves welcomed only in the beds of your slaves.”

 

“I could live with that!” I hear a mocking hiss grumble over the crowd. I feel my groin tighten at the idea of changing the law to allow aliens as our mates. I can easily imagine Bulma in my bed every night for the rest of my life. It is a delicious fantasy, but one I am not fool enough to ever seriously consider. Regardless of whether the law was ever changed, as king, the opportunity would never be open to me. A king must provide a pureblooded heir. Nothing less would be acceptable.

 

“I want a public debate!” I hear the dominant female voice demand. “Our king is right. This is an issue we can no longer ignore. We should bring it to the public arena.”

 

Some support the idea. Some denounce it. I agree to it. It serves my purpose. “Two days from now.” I make the decree and order everyone to spread the word among the few who didn't find time in their purging schedules to come witness Brolli's demise.

 

As the area clears, I cannot help but turn my gaze back to Brolli's carcass. He is but the first in a long line of enemies I will eliminate.

 

Unconsciously, my mind drifts to Bulma. Nothing after a long hour of pulverizing an enemy sounds better then sinking myself between her welcoming creamy white thighs. If only such an offer could be attained from her.

 

I soon notice almost everyone has stumbled out of the arena and I am reminded of an earlier irritation. I do not know what happened to Bulma and Radditz. I quickly scan for Radditz's ki. I want to know where the hell he has gone with my woman.

 

It takes me a moment, but I sense he has returned with her to the castle. I turn to take off in that direction, but I am stopped by a voice from the past before I can depart. “My king,” a female calls my name. The moment I turn around to face her, I am struck by a sense of familiarity.

 

“Jicama?” I hesitate in saying her name. She smiles and nods her head in affirmation.

 

“I was not certain you would remember me. You were just a small boy the last time your father allowed me to see you.” She then looks down at the charred body of the only being she had ever given life. “I do not think my son could have been more of a disappointment.” Her gaze rises slowly back to mine. “But in your case, I believe your mother would feel quite the opposite.”

 

I swallow. I do not need this now. “What do you want?”

 

“Brolli's body, for one.”

 

“Are you serious?” Jicama hated her son more than any normal Saiya-jin mother ever did.

 

“I know it seems like an odd request, but for all his sins, he is still my flesh and blood. I know I have no right to ask, but I would be honored if you could let me break Saiya-jin laws this once and properly dispose of his body. I do not want to leave him to be eaten by the ravenous animals who normally benefit from such executions.”

 

“You are correct, you have no right to ask such a favor of me.” I scowl at her. Those who die in disgrace should have their bodies decompose in disgrace. Yet, Jicama has history with my mother. She alone stood by my mother during some of her darkest hours. In honor of her, I suppose I could allow this liberty. I will just have to make certain Bulma never learns of it. “Be certain no one sees you removing him.”

 

She smiles, an atypical expression for a Saiya-jin. “Thank you, your highness.”

 

“You said your son's body was but one reason you came to me,” I want to move away from soft sentiment. “What else do you want?”

 

“Only to advise you,” she explains while taking a step closer to me. “Your father had many allies who inherently grew to hate you, but many adored your mother. That respect has followed to you. Do not take it for granted when you attempt to assert your superiority. You need not view everyone as an enemy.” The woman turns to walk away from me with little more than the cryptic comment. I grab her arm before she can.

 

“Where exactly have you been all these years?” I suddenly want to know. “Brolli said you were dead.”

 

“My son lied,” she hisses as she slowly turns back around to face me. “I was placed on a purging rotation by your father which has kept me off the planet for the last three years. I was gone for two, four, and then six-year installments before that. It was only when you recently adjusted the schedule I was allowed to return.”

 

I see the gratitude in her eyes, but I speak not of it. I am too angered by her plight. It seems I was not my father's only opposition to be kept off the planet for as long as he could calculate. “You could have informed me you had returned.” I do not know why, but I am angered I was fooled into believing she was dead. I suppose it is my fault. I should not have believed Brolli's claim.

 

“I almost did one evening,” her eyes probe mine as a frown falls upon her face. “But your guard said you were busy with your new purchase. I can only hope you bought that woman for the sole purpose of humiliating Brolli. Your mother would be disappointed if you were slipping into your father's ways.”

 

“I am not like my father!” I scream at her, she does not recoil.

 

“I am glad to hear it. Your father humiliated your mother with his collection of women. I would hope you would not act so disrespectful when it comes time to select a mate to carry your heir.” My eyes leave hers. I just became king. I am not ready to think about continuing my lineage.

 

“You still speak to me as if I am a child in need of instruction,” I accuse her.

 

She smiles again. “No, Vegeta. Nothing about you is a child anymore.” Her eyes roam over me. When they finally return to mine, she lifts a hand to caress one of my cheeks. Her touch evokes a surprisingly tranquil sensation within me. “I just wanted you to know that you have my support.” Her hand slides down my cheek, over my throat and then toward the center of my chest. “In any way that you need it,” she adds before turning away from me. She scans the area quickly before throwing her son's body over her shoulder, and then quickly taking off into the air. My eyes follow her ki signature until it dissipates.

 

Growling, I run my hand over my face. The damn ningen has me so sexually frustrated I am welcoming the advances of a woman who was a close friend of my mother's. Jicama is beautiful, regardless of her advanced years, but she is not a prospect for me, no matter how desperate I am to relieve my frustrations on something other than my hand.

 

Flaring my ki, I catapult myself toward my castle with great speed. I need to find out what the hell is going on with Bulma and Radditz. I touch down on my balcony. I enter my chamber, to find Radditz pacing in it. My anger immediately boils. “What the hell is going on?” I demand. “I told you to keep the woman at the arena for the entire match. The two of you missed Brolli's execution!”

 

“I am sorry, sir,” Radditz bows slightly. “I am glad you ended Brolli's life, and I apologize for missing it. However, I thought you would prefer I break your orders rather than keep the woman from receiving medical treatment.”

 

“Medical treatment?” He manages to alter my mood from fury to astonishment in a matter of seconds. “What are you talking about?”

 

Radditz sighs, and then lowers his head. “She became ill while watching the match. She thought it was the excessive violence, I thought perhaps an aftereffect of the drug Brolli had given her.”

 

“And which was it?”

 

“Have you been with her?”

 

“Excuse me?” I snap. I tolerate Radditz's boldness with me to a degree, but if he is asking what I think he is, that degree has been exceeded.

 

“I know I have no right to ask, but please answer regardless. Have you been with her?”

 

“No,” I say low and menacingly.

 

Radditz frowns, “I suspected as much.”

 

I growl, all of Radditz's riddles and ominous pauses begin to irritate the hell out of me. “What is going on, Radditz?”

 

“Bulma's with child.”

 

My jaw locks mid-word. I can make no movement for several seconds before I stutter, “Impossible.”

 

“I am afraid it's very possible,” Radditz answers somberly.

 

“Brolli would have had her sterilized,” I insist, aware of standard procedure regarding alien comfort women.

 

“He didn't.” Radditz explains, clearly trying to reason with me. “You knew of his obsession with her, his need to have her desire him. If he took her ability to bare children away, in his mind, he must have felt she would never be able to forgive him.”

 

My eyes fall to ground, knowing what Radditz's says to be logical when considering Brolli's illogical mindset. I begin to scan the floor as if I expect an answer to this nightmarish scenario to be scribed upon it. “Does she know?” I am afraid to ask, I cannot begin to imagine what this news will mean.

 

“No,” Radditz answers. Both his expression and tone then become very stern. “The physician says he can terminate the child and then place her in a regeneration tank. When we remove her, we can explain that the drug Brolli had given her had some kind of delayed affect on her system that had to be immediately treated.”

 

I turn away from him. “Kill her child?” I clarify.

 

“Kill Brolli's child.” Radditz attempts to spin his solution in a way for me to find it acceptable. “Besides the fact that the infant she is carrying is against our laws, Brolli's death was to be a new beginning for her, this child would ruin that. And to insensitively mention, it makes using her as a means to manipulate our enemies even more difficult.” He pauses, and then suggests, “No one but you, the medic and I know. If we kill the physician after he is done, it will be only the two of us. Bulma never has to know the truth.”

 

“I will know.” I hiss. “I will know I not only allowed, but ordered the death of her child.”

 

“It's Brolli's child as well.” Radditz reinforces. “Do you think you could live with that anymore than she could?” He is right on many levels. Half-breeds are forbidden among our population. That is why Saiya-jins are to sterilize their purchases.

 

“Your highness,” the physician exits Bulma's adjoining room where I am informed she has been rendered unconscious. He asks what I have decided. Silence follows as I try to convince myself of the best course of action. I try to tell myself there is no reason to let the child live. It's Brolli's. It's against our laws. It's Brolli's. It will be a stagnate memory of the most miserable years of Bulma's life. It's Brolli's. It interferes with our agreement for Bulma's freedom. It's—I sigh.

 

It's Brolli's.

 

She is carrying his spawn. It should not matter to me. The problem is hers. She wants to leave me; she has made that clear on more than one occasion. If she wants to keep the child, it is her choice. It doesn't affect me. But it does, if I have my way. I want to keep her. I want her to have my illegal half-breeds, not Brolli's. I vowed before the bastard's death that she would come to forget him. I refuse to be proven a liar!

 

Ignoring my hesitation I face the two men, demanding the only solution that matters, the one that best serves me.

 

“Terminate the child.”

 

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Author's Note: I just want to give a special thanks to BogusRed who helped get my butt into gear and post this chapter. Thank you!