Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Variations of Fate ❯ Hope ( Chapter 3 )

Her face smudged with dirt and grease and her well-worn denim overalls freshly tattered, six-year-old Bulma Briefs handed her father a wrench and tapped her toe impatiently. "Can I help?"

"What was that? Oh. No Bulma. You've already helped enough today and your mother will kill me when she sees you," Dr. Briefs said, his voice muffled because he was working beneath a piece of machinery. Suddenly, several pieces of metal clinked to the sandy ground and Dr. Briefs began cursing, although the most audible word was his final "damn it!" His wrench clunked to the cave floor, and he slid out from under the machine, "I'll never get the blasted thing fixed!"

"Can I try?"

"No, sweetie, I already told you that."

"Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please..." she smiled at him sweetly, "with a cherry on top?!"

"Bulma..."

She gave him a disappointed pout, looking up at him as though her world had just fallen apart.

"Oh, All right!" he said, though he thought: I hate it when she does that!

"Thanks, dad!" Bulma grinned and clasped her hands together excitedly. She grabbed the tools she needed, slipped them into the pockets of her overalls and slid beneath the machine, picked up the screwdriver her father had dropped, and began working while her farther waited.

Time passed, and Dr. Briefs sat down with his head against the cool cave wall. Occasionally he looked at his watch, counting the minutes as they ticked away. The normal mechanical clinks, clanks and twangs echoed in the cavern as Bulma fixed her father's work. Dr. Briefs nodded off for a moment, but was startled awake when Bulma tossed a screwdriver to the floor.

Afraid something had gone wrong, he wrung his hands together and peeked under the edge at her. But Bulma was fine; she waved, smiled, and slithered out from under the machine. "Finished!"

He blinked at her; it had taken her half the time it had taken him to fix it the first time it broke! He reached into the machine to turn it on and when it proved to work, he turned toward Bulma in disbelief.

"How did you...?" he trailed off.

"Simple! I remember when you made it last year. It's a good but easy design," she grinned at him and then added shyly, "I've been reading some of your books about this kind of stuff." She stood on her tiptoes to flip the switch of the light that shone directly beneath the car-like device. All of the lights flickered, and Bulma frowned, "Dad we need to fix the ah --"

Her vocabulary lacked the term she needed and Dr. Briefs smiled, "Solar power? Yes, I know, I've been working on it, but I've also been working on something else."

Dr. Briefs seemed somehow distracted. He fidgeted with his jacket and then smiled down at Bulma, hoping she wouldn't notice how troubled he really was. His actions did not go unnoticed and Bulma frowned.

"Dad ... is there something wrong?"

"No, Bulma. I'm fine, just a little worried about our little operation here. I don't know how long the Saiyans will stay away from us. Don't worry about anything though. Everything's fine really. I worry too much about these things."

She smiled up at him and patted his arm, "It'll be okay dad. When's the next raid on the slave pens?"

He grinned, "Soon. Don't worry about it -- everything'll go just fine. I'm going to go talk to your mother about getting everything ready for those people. Just make sure you don't break anything!"

"Well, if I did, I could fix it!"

"Yes, you could, but please don't break anything!" he exclaimed, "I'll be right back, Bulma, so stay out of trouble."

She smiled sweetly, her hands behind her back, swaying from side to side innocently, "I will!"

He started to walk off then turned back, "I'll get you something to read, as well. Bulma, you're exceptionally intelligent."

She blushed at the compliment and he ruffled her short hair, to wish she grimaced and flattened her hair back down. Then, as she saw him retreat down one of the darker corridors, she climbed up into the driver's seat.

I've never been in here, she thought to herself, looking at the controls. Everything was simple, but refined to conserve energy. She pressed one of the buttons and immediately cringed when the vehicle made a loud beeping sound.

"Oops," she giggled, and looked around at everything else, Wow; it's made so it doesn't mess up the caves. Ha. So those were the other repairs dad was making. Oh my.

"Ouchies! That hurts!" Her hand was stuck between a spherical object and a bar, and she had to roll the sphere out of her way before she could move her hand, "Hey, I wonder what that is..."

She grabbed the ball in her hand and pulled it into view: it was a yellow ball with two red stars marking it, "Huh?" It looks like the ball that seal in one of those picture books balanced on his nose. Man, my dad is so weird. What's he doing with a, ah -- circus? Yeah, what's he doing with a circus ball?!

Dr. Briefs looked over the faces of the group of refugees who had sought him out, blinking vigorously in the dim light and furrowing his bushy graying eyebrows. He cleared his throat, "Yes?"

"Dr. Briefs, please. You must do something to get rid of those damned Saiyans! They're killing more of us now," one of the men said, and a woman took over, "and they're raping more women. Do you want someone to have to carry the child of one of those bastards?"

"There's always abortion," he said quietly.

"How many women would actually want to do that? And how many of those bastards would allow one of their 'female slaves' to abort a half-Saiyan child? They raped my wife," one of them men said, the pain and anger he felt was obvious, "and they wouldn't let her abort the child! She felt guilty about the pregnancy, and she died because they didn't give her enough help when the baby was being born! The kid's alive, being raised by some Saiyan bitch on their goddamned home world, Vegetasei! I've got nothing left of my wife!"

"I ... I am sorry..."

"If you're really sorry then you'd help start an uprising!" one of the women screamed out. Dr. Briefs gulped, "I'll ... I'll ... I'll try!"

"Trying isn't good enough! Trying won't be good enough for my memory of my wife!" He took a deep breath, "But I can't guarantee anything will work!"

"Then make something and we'll test it!"

"Do you want your daughter raped by one of those Saiyans?"

"Yeah! When she's older she'll be pretty and she'll definitely catch one Saiyan's or another's eyes!"

Those words made Dr. Briefs remember the dreams he'd had for Bulma's future -- valedictorian of her High School, graduation suma cum laude in her University classes, future CEO or president of his company, beautiful millionaire, perfect daughter, intelligent inventor. He sighed, then stated with determination: "All right, I'll do it, but I'll need your help. I'm an inventor, not a strategist."

One of the men stepped forward, his hand extended, "I'm Dr. Joseph Marshall, but call me Joe, please. I was a MD ... but now I'm something of a strategist, I guess, but all of us here want to help get rid of the Saiyans. We think you're the man for the job. You're inventor." Dr. Briefs nodded, "I've wanted to do something to the Saiyans for a while. I'm just a little feckless sometimes," he gave a half-smile, "In fact, I'm better with machines than I am with talking to other people."

Joe grinned, "I know how you feel, though not about the machines. I'm better as the brains behind the project or speech or whatever than I am about presenting the damn thing." Everyone laughed at that, even Dr. Briefs.

After the laughter died down, Joe pointed to the man whose wife had been raped, "That's Max Hubbard."

"I'm sorry about your loss."

Max nodded, and Joe continued, pointing to a tall, beautiful brunette and the blonde man standing beside her, "That's Maria Darien, and her husband Kyle," Dr. Briefs shook hands with them, then Joe pointed to a short, plump blonde, "That's Anna Townsend." Finally, he pointed to the last of the small group, a man with dark hair, "And that's Josh Ross. There's not many of us, but it should be enough people to start dreaming up a plan." Dr. Briefs gave a wan smile, "I'll build whatever you need."

"When do we want to meet?" the tall brunette, Maria Darien, asked.

"Tonight, after the children are asleep, maybe ten," Anna Townsend suggested. Dr. Briefs nodded, "That'll work. We'll meet in the main 'debriefing' room for the new refugees -- you all know where it is. I'll tell my wife I need to work on something. I suppose if you know anyone else who could help us, they'd be useful. We could use a bigger group -- more brains equals more ideas."

Joe nodded in agreement to both Anna's and Dr. Briefs' statements, "Ten o'clock sharp. I've gotta hurry back to my cave to check on my charges, make sure no one's coughing up blood again," he grimaced, "being one of the doctors who works on the refugees y'all cart in has its ups and downs, but it fuels my anger towards the Saiyans. Damn bastards," he shook his head.

"I've got to be going as well. My daughter's waiting for me to return," Dr. Briefs sighed, turning to leave.

"Goodbye, Dr. Briefs," Joe waved, "Remember, ten o'clock. Be there early."

"Bulma?" Dr. Briefs called out.

"Uh, hi dad!" Bulma peeked out of the machine she had fixed earlier.

"Bulma ..." he said warningly, "get out of there right now. I told you not to get into any trouble and you could have!"

"But dad!"

"I've no time for your 'but dad's'. Please get out now."

Guiltily she slid to the ground and slammed the door. Then she hid her hands behind her back. Dr. Briefs gave her a look that told her he expected she better not have taken anything. Bulma cleared her throat, "Dad, I've got a question." His eyebrows raised, "Yes?"

"Uh, what's this?" Bulma held out the small yellow ball with the three red-orange stars on it. When he just stared at it she continued, "I found it in the back of the car." "Oh. Well ... that ... that's called a dragonball. There's some legend behind it -- I'm not really sure on the details."

"Did you bring it with you when we left ... home?" Bulma wasn't used to calling the house she'd spent her first three years in 'home'. The cave was her home, with its cool walls, damp interior and underground streams of fresh water. She was used to the solar power and the refugees, and she couldn't imagine life without any of those components.

Dr. Briefs nodded, "In fact, I went back and got it when I should have left as soon as possible," a smile cross his face, "You went to sleep, without your teddy bear or your blankie. You weren't frightened, but you really didn't understand what was going on," he laughed as Bulma frowned at the mentioning of her blankie. She'd 'grown out of it' a few months before and wouldn't have anyone mention it. Dr. Briefs sighed and his face fell with disappointment and grief, "I wish we could do something about the Saiyans. Get rid of them, maybe. I only wish it were possible."

"Dad, maybe we can," Bulma said quietly.

He smiled at her, "We'll just wait for that idea."

She smiled back it him, "What details do you know about these 'dragonballs'?"

"Well, there are supposedly seven of them, and they're supposedly magical. Once you gather all seven, you can call a dragon that grants one wish. Once your wish has been granted, the dragonballs are scattered across the Earth. "

"Wow," her eyes glittered, "Is it true?"

"I wish it was ... then we could just wish the Saiyans back home."

"I wish ..." Bulma grinned at him and thought, That's what I'm going to do! I'm going to gather these dragonballs and I'm going to wish the Saiyans off Earth so mom and dad will be happy again!

"Goodnight Mommy, g'night daddy!" Bulma exclaimed, kissing both of her parents on the cheek, then going over to her cot and checking to make sure the dragonball was under her pillow. She pressed around until she found the small, spherical object beneath her pillow, then climbed in between the sheets.

"Goodnight Bulma," they said in unison. Her mother tucked her in and kissed her cheek, while her father waved from the flap of fabric that separated Bulma's bedroom alcove from the rest of their family cavern. Mrs. Briefs walked out of the small 'bedroom', and Dr. Briefs flicked off the light, "Goodnight pumpkin."

He slipped out using the canvas flap. Bulma grabbed the dragonball from beneath her pillow and found the flashlight beside her cot. She stood up and waited by the flap, waiting for her parents to turn off their light. She pressed the on button on her flashlight and shone it at her clock -- nine fifty-two. The lights clicked out and Bulma hurriedly put a hand over her flashlight before peering out from behind the flap; she heard footsteps she recognized as her fathers walking steadily away -- toward the door of their cavern. Then all was silent. Bulma slid out of her alcove and minced towards the door, hoping her feet wouldn't make a sound. However, all was fine once she heard her mother snoring. She pushed the canvas out of her way and walked into the corridor towards her father's lab.

Thankfully, he wasn't going to his lab. Placing the dragonball onto one of the lab tables, Bulma put her flashlight in her mouth, climbed up onto the counter and pulled out one of her father's scanning devices. She made sure it worked by pressing one of the buttons, then jumped to the floor and scampered over to the table; she could barely reach up, but that didn't bother her. She placed the flashlight on the table, turned the device on and scanned the two-star dragonball.

"Hmm..." Bulma climbed back onto the counter, pulled out several more devices, and was especially interested in one that looked like a clock. What's dad working on now? She turned it on, and it began bleeping as a circle -- a ball -- appeared on the screen. She realized instantly what her father had made and forgot for a moment she should be quiet, exclaiming "WOW!" before she realized it.

If I have this, I can find all the dragonballs! Why didn't dad tell me about this? Maybe it's about how the dragonballs are scattered across Earth? Is he worried about the Saiyans finding someone looking for the dragonballs? I'm not allowed to go anywhere alone!

Bulma shrugged to herself, grabbed a bag from a drawer and dumped the dragonball, her flashlight -- which was off -- and the radar in it. She walked out of the lab and followed the corridor her father had gone down. There was only one non-residential room on that hall -- the 'refugee debriefing room'. So, that's where Bulma headed, but as she rounded the last corner toward the end of the hall, she heard whispers that echoed to her. She heard words like "revolution," "revolt," and "Saiyans," as well as the phrases such as, "kill the damned Saiyans," or "rescue more slaves." Peeking in the doorway, she saw her dad and several of the newer refugees in a heated dispute.

Quietly she backed away from the door and ran as fast she could back to her family's cave, her bag clapping against her leg. She pushed the flap aside and ran to her alcove, where she pulled the sheets over her head and tried to sleep.