Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ What You Will ❯ What You Will: Act III ( Chapter 3 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

 

Disclaimer: Today’s story is brought to you by the letters A and T, the romanji initials of the man who invented Dragonball Z and most of the characters in this story.  Our number today is 0, as in Toshiba is making 0 dollars on this story, so please don’t sue.  It’s not the Sesame St. way.

 

Notes: Caution to all who enter here, quality assurance is not guaranteed.  Plus there may be some coarse language, violent imagery, and mild sexual descriptions that may be disturbing to some readers.  I conceived of this story before Dragonball Super and the bomb shell that Bulma had a sister (I mean even Goku and Vegeta were shocked).  For one scene, characters speaking Japanese will be indicated in italics and Saiyago will be in bold.

 

What You Will

 

Act III

 

“Cancelled!  It took your royal Father months to arrange that meeting with the Myxini.  With their support, the Saiyajin Empire could finally hold the position of power over the Colds and you want to cancel it.  You may be regent, Ouji-sama, but that does not give you grounds to overthrow the work of your Father and this Council.”  Letunce exploded as Vegeta dropped the bomb on the unsuspecting assembly.  A few of the Defence Minister’s allies and his own enemies grumbled and growled their agreement and for that Vegeta mentally winced. 

 

Last month no one dared to speak against him but a week after the gravity room explosion there were already rumblings of his vulnerability.  With his physical strength in question, his overall leadership position had been weakened.  His ancestors help him if they ever found out what truly happened that day.

 

“As regent and the future ruler of this Empire, I do have a stake in who we take as allies.  You fought against the Myxini in the Great War, Letunce-san, as did most of the members of this council.  That bloated pink lackey of Frieza’s is a typical example of their race, sadists without honour.  I ask this council, how can we ally ourselves with such a species?  Better to fight alone than with an ally that will stab us in the back.”  With the forceful will he’d honed in his early days on the Council, Vegeta watched contentedly as most of the nobles shifted to his side, swayed by his arguments and their natural prejudices. 

 

What would most of them think if they knew the reasoning behind his actions?  A flash of earnest eyes and a pleading voice echoed his previous thought before Vegeta quelled the memory. 

 

“It’s all well to be high and mighty, Ouji-sama,” Minister Upo snapped.  “But we cannot afford your attitude towards any possible allies.  The Colds are our superiors technologically.  Our fighting force is greater than their mercenary legions but the Empire will continue to lose ground if we don’t make allies.”

 

“If you choose allies the same way you choose engineers, we’d be better off on our own.”  Nappa growled back, the remark earning several mocking grunts.  Another comment about cheap labour followed and Vegeta breathed a sigh of relief.  The debate about the Myxini and his supposed failings had died away with the smell of fresh blood in the water, mostly the Minister of the Interior’s and the now-defunct engineering department. 

 

A large number of the Council had initially balked at the very idea of an engineering department, confirming the age-old hatred of anything mechanical was alive and well.  Only his Father’s influence and the spectre of the Colds’ own technological superiority made them change their minds.  The utter failure of the department only reinforced their beliefs in the evils of technology.

 

“We can’t just give up on the idea because of one setback.”  Minister Noion spoke up, a rare show of backbone from the Finance Minister.

 

“You call the destruction of the entire department and the near death of the Ouji a minor setback?”  Letunce sneered back.  Though the remark earned a few chuckles, Vegeta bit the inside of his cheek to keep from growling at the very mention of his injuries. 

 

“Maybe you should hire that Chikyuu-jin lackey, Upo.  He certainly couldn’t do any worse, and at least he survived his disaster.”  Another voice shouted out and at this Vegeta visibly bristled, as he did every time someone mentioned Goku and that day.  A wave of rage spiked through him at the thought of the Chikyuu-jin boy.  He had sworn Nappa and Radditz to secrecy and as for the rest of the engineering staff, there wasn’t anyone left to speak to what happened.  The boy had wisely kept his own mouth shut on the issue, not that Vegeta had let the Chikyuu-jin near him to know what Goku was doing. 

 

For all his anger, a perverse part of him missed Goku, especially at these official functions.  Between the sycophants and the strong-armed clan leaders, it was rare to find someone with a backbone and a full set of wits, and the Chikyuu-jin fit both criteria.  Wistfully thinking gave way to cold reality and he waved away his previous thoughts.  It was better to suffer boredom than the possible fall-out if the whole gravity chamber incident became public.   

 

“There is no denying the last batch of rejects you hired were disasters, Upo-san, but it has been decided that an engineering department would be to the benefit of the Empire.  In the future, any hiring will be approved by the crown and only after a display of competence.”  Vegeta proclaimed, putting the discussion to rest.  With a growl, he rose from his chair and watched as the rest of the council followed suit, giving their oaths of loyalty to the crown.  A minute later, the room was deserted but for the Minister of State and Radditz standing sentinel at the door.

 

“You have much improved, Ouji-sama, since you took over the reins from your Father.  He has been impressed with my reports.”  Cawliefe remarked as he reviewed his notes from the council.  Vegeta could hardly hold back his surprise at the statement, both at his Father’s praise and his meddling in Council affairs.

 

“You didn’t think he would leave without checking in at some points.  A King is still a king, even when he is not on the throne.  Personally I think it was to see how you were doing with the boy.  Those reports,” Cawliefe paused and smirked, chuckling softly under his breath.  “Those went over even better.  I will give your Father credit, he saw something in that boy, something that has worked better than he could have dreamed.” 

 

At this cryptic comment, Vegeta glared at his old mentor, refusing to let his thoughts show, especially regarding Goku.  As a child, he had revelled in studying battle strategy, seeing five solutions where others saw none, anticipating moves before anyone else.  That his Father saw something before him, something he still did not see, made the Prince agitated and uncertain. 

 

“Amazing what comes from the mouths of idiots though.  From what I heard of the accident in the engineering department, the boy knew more about the equipment and the dangers than our esteemed engineers.”

 

“What of it?”  Vegeta snorted, hiding his concern about Cawliefe’s knowledge of what happened before the explosion.  

 

“Take a look at this.  Your Father’s crow has been busy in Cold space again and found something your Father thought would be interesting.  After the mess of last week, I believe it is even more important.”  Grabbing the pad with Intelligence Minister’s report, Vegeta’s eyes skimmed over the document, noting the words Cold, free territory, technology and ...

 

“Chikyuu, the boy’s home planet.  Seems that Frieza is very interested in that planet, interested enough not to purge it and sell it to the highest bidder.  From most records, the planet is a backwater, in the bare adolescence of space travel, travelling beyond their own star system just fifty years ago.  By all accounts, Frieza should have destroyed or ignored it....”

 

“But?  There is a point to all of this.”  Vegeta snapped back, the mention of Goku and his home planet making him unnecessarily edgy.

 

“It is in Malanga’s findings.  Seems that the backwater is home to some of the most amazing technology in the galaxy.  The main focus is on something known as capsules, a kind of revolutionary storage containers.  The inventor and his family are geniuses and the wealthiest citizens on the planet.  Their company produces these storage capsules and other inventions worth enough to make Frieza consider bargaining with the planet.”

 

Against his stoic upbringing, even Vegeta couldn’t keep a measure of shock off his face.  Bargain?  The Tsiru-jin didn’t even know the word.  Whatever the Chikyuu-jin produced must have been valuable and the thought struck him.  A solution to one of his biggest problems had dropped into his lap, even if it was courtesy of his Father’s meddling.

 

“I’m sure Malanga-san or my Father would not have presented this ‘report’ to you if there was not some immediate benefit to the Empire, or insult to the Colds attached.”  Vegeta smirked and received a similar expression in reply.

 

“From one of Malanga’s sources, we were able to get a copy of the Tsiru-jin terms of surrender for the planet.  Near total surrender of the planet’s resources and technology, plus the fostering of the family’s only child, a daughter, to the Tsiru-jin court.  At some point during the ‘negotiations’, the girl was even offered as barter, given in marriage to Frieza’s pet Changling as a ‘mate’, to keep the planet’s occupants from being slaves.”  Vegeta could feel the bile rising in his throat at the thought.  The image came, unbidden to his mind, of Zarbon attacking his far-ven, the blue eyed, blue haired siren of his dream.  Then again, the thought of Zarbon and anyone made him queasy.

 

“Since I didn’t receive an invitation, I’m guessing the ‘mating’ is off.”  Vegeta bit back, earning a chuckle from the previously silent Radditz.

 

“Yes.  A certain ... thorn in the Cold’s side recently appeared, breaking Frieza’s control and stranglehold on the planet.  To date, Chikyuu is still free, but its days are numbered and its ruling family, this engineering dynasty, is desperate, and missing.”  Cawliefe proclaimed, leaving his best piece of news to the end.

 

“Missing?”  Vegeta remarked, willing for once to let Cawliefe enjoy his advantage.

 

“One member.  I still don’t know how your Father’s crow got this information, but it seems that this heiress, along with a few dozen ships with valuable members of Chikyuu-jin society left the planet once the embargo was lifted.  The identity of the girl is a secret, even a picture of her was beyond Malanga’s grasp, but he did not have a living member of the species on hand to question.”

 

“You think Goku would give up his race to us?  Betray his own people?” 

 

“It would not be a betrayal if we offer what they need: protection from the Colds.  Even if the boy is nothing more than a page, he might know of this woman, enough to know her name or a basic description.  He may even be in close contact with her, considering his own intelligence and the remarkable ship.  Beyond that, he is loyal to the crown, to the cost of his own life.”  Cawliefe replied, looking down pointedly at his Prince.

 

“You dare.”

 

“Only I, Ouji-sama.  Nappa and Radditz came to me with the story of your ‘rescue’ by the boy.  They are just as loyal as the Chikyuu-jin to you and no one will hear the circumstances of that day from my lips.  I really must hand it to your Father, his sight is far reaching indeed, much like your own sire, Radditz.”  A soft grunt behind them found its mark as the unspoken agreement regarding Radditz’ father was broken.  Both Saiyajins watched as Cawliefe left, neither speaking until the nobleman was out of ear shot.

 

“I should have your head for telling him what Goku did.”  Vegeta finally replied, glaring down at his underling with contempt. 

 

“We didn’t tell him any of the particulars, just that Goku grabbed you and tried to stop you from entering the chamber.  Nappa felt it prudent to mention that you had initially meant to punish the Chikyuu-jin for his interference but stayed your hand.  I would not fear if I were you, Ouji-sama.  Not even your Father’s Minister of Intelligence knows what went on.”  Vegeta merely nodded, trusting Radditz’ honour.  With his first issue out of the way, the Prince concentrated on the second now clutched in his hands in the form of Malanga’s report on Chikyuu.

 

“Radditz, I have an assignment for you.  How would you like to take on minder duty again?”  Hearing a grunt in reply, Vegeta glanced up from the screen, a plan formulating in his head to best manipulate the situation Cawliefe had dumped in his lap.

 

“Is it back to the latrine, Ouji-sama?”  The Western asked, a hint of exasperation in his tone.

 

“No, nothing so repugnant.  I’ll give my Father’s crow a week before he finds the missing Chikyuu-jin girl and once he has, I will finally put my Father’s pet project to work.  You and Goku will meet with this woman and use whatever means possible to gain her compliance.  With a member of her own species as an example of Saiyajin mercy, we can win this technical house and finally have the upper hand on the Colds.”  Vegeta replied, his mind already ablaze with the possibilities. 

 

“And what if this woman isn’t interested?”  Radditz asked, addressing the one possibility Vegeta was unwilling to face.  There were many ways to ensure her co-operation, many Radditz had been called on to perform himself yet the Prince balked at the thought of force.  Force was a means to subdue enemies, not make an ally, especially one in such a position.  Beyond the lessons of his tutors, he could see the deep blue eyes of Goku as he spoke so passionately about Chikyuu.  If her home planet was as precious to this woman as it was to that boy, she would join them. 

 

“If she is as smart as they say, she will agree.  Besides, Radditz, between you and that boy, I’m sure you can impress one woman.  Maybe you can take the boy under your wing, so the next time he might last more than two minutes.”  Vegeta chuckled and even Radditz cracked a smile despite himself. 

 

Rumour had spread through the palace, telling the sordid details of Goku’s night in the harem.  The boy was barely able to get undressed before he came, the mere touch of so many women enough to undo him.  It was even whispered that Miana herself deemed to kiss him, which caused him to cum a second time.  After that, he was left to sleep off the night in one of the harem’s private quarters. 

 

Dismissing Radditz, he glanced over Malanga’s report once more, a smirk of satisfaction on his face.  Soon he would have access to one of the greatest technical houses in the universe, silencing his critics on the Council and snatching a victory away from the Colds.  His thoughts briefly shifted to a pair of deep blue eyes and a determined spirit, an alien feeling of guilt creeping into his thoughts.  While he would never admit it, the emotion behind Goku’s impassioned speech had moved Vegeta deeply, touching on the oath of loyalty every Saiyajin recited. 

 

‘Le fuill chree mi bha dooie ab air fearann agus con-gur fuill chree mi ailleas coadey eadh’: from the planet I was given life and by my blood I will defend it.  A sacred sentiment to every Saiyajin, a sentiment no less powerful from Goku’s mouth.  How would the boy react once he learned that the fate of his precious planet and his species was nothing but a game between great Empires?  Cursing himself for even caring what the Chikyuu-jin thought, Vegeta dismissed the whole matter from his mind. 

 

He had an Empire to run.

 

~*~*~*~

 

“You sent for me, Ouji-sama.”  Bulma struggled to keep her eyes down and her voice dispassionate as she knelt before Vegeta’s turned back, her emotions in disarray.  With her head turned down, she let her ears and nose take in every nuance of the room that had been her second home in the month she had been personal assistant to the Prince.  What a difference one day could make.

 

The day after her restless night, Bulma’s whole body ached from an overindulgence in wine, and an overstimulated libido.  Wishing for nothing more than a cold shower and a long nap in her own bed, she barely got a chance to calibrate the projector before Miana swept into the room, with two guards by her side.  Curt as only Saiyajins could be, they told her the Council’s kindness was over and if she didn’t move her lazy, Chikyuu-jin ass, they would burn her a new one. 

 

Expecting to be led to the Prince, Bulma felt her heart race and her hyper-aroused body nearly shook with the prospect of seeing Vegeta.  Kami, was he okay?  Had Nappa been too slow getting him into the tank?  Worse, was there a malfunction? 

 

Her anxiety mixed with her own burgeoning feelings of tenderness and an overriding sensation of lust to the point she was willing to damn all the consequences and hug the arrogant Saiyajin as soon as she laid eyes on him.  Except the only thing she laid eyes on that day, and for every day since, was the mountain of paperwork from each case destined for the judiciary.  While it was far better than latrine or kitchen duty, she didn’t understand why she had been relegated to a simple clerk. 

 

With each passing day, she missed the Saiyajin Prince more and more.  Her only connection became reading the reports for the various meetings and committees as she sorted and filed.  Free to work at her own leisure, she often smiled approvingly at Vegeta’s decisions, his wit and keen insight when deciding cases.   She could even imagine his eyes flashing with wicked intent as he brought down his will, backed up with his own strength and buttressed by his keen mind.  Anything would be better than this cold, indifferent stranger before her.

 

“Yes, Chikyuu-jin, I have a mission for you.”  He replied, his back still turned as he looked over various files and star maps on his desk.  Chikyuu-jin, she repeated, he wouldn’t even say her name. 

 

Glancing quickly under her spiked bangs, her eyes flicked over the tail wrapped securely around his waist.  She had fantasies of stroking that tail of his and unfortunately she couldn’t stop herself that day.  Was he punishing her because she had dared to touch his tail?  What would he do if he learned of her confession in the harem?

 

“I pledged you my life and service, to follow your commands.”  She stated quietly, recalling the words of her oath. 

 

“Yes, but I wonder who has your greater loyalty.”  He replied, almost more to himself than to her.  At his words, Bulma almost laughed.  She initially made her pledge under duress and to a man she considered on par with Frieza.  Now, she would give it again in a heartbeat; she would give him everything if he asked it of her.

 

“You and the Saiyajin Empire are all that has my loyalty, your highness.”   She sighed, more truth in those words than she could have anticipated

 

“Wisely said.  I hope you can convince your fellow Chikyuu-jins of that wisdom.”  At this she started, her eyes lifting from the floor and on to his armoured back.  Her thoughts briefly flitted to Yamcha but he would hardly merit a concern for Vegeta.  A feeling of warmth bloomed in her chest at the unbidden thought that Vegeta might be offering to help her people. 

 

“There is a technical house on your home world of some repute, is this true?”  While the Saijajin appeared focussed on the documents on his desk, Bulma caught the barest glimpse of Vegeta’s eye and fear creeped up her spine.  Did he know?

 

“Yes, your highness, Capsule Corp was the company that built my ship.  May I ask your interest?”  Hope and dread warred in Bulma’s heart of what this could mean. 

 

“I understand this house has an heir, a daughter of some intelligence.  Something of a princess on your world.  Know you of her?”  Her eyes quickly dropped back to the floor and she forced herself to even her breath.  Kami, how did he know?  What did he know?  What … what would he do?

 

“Yes, I have heard of her.  A genius without compare, like her father, and rumoured to be able to build anything her mind can fathom.”  Could the plan she had desperately cooked up after her rejection of the ‘marriage contract’ actually come to fruition? 

 

“Do you know her?”

 

For a brief moment, Bulma contemplated revealing herself to her haughty Prince, naming herself as the very woman he was inquiring about and pledging her knowledge to his cause.  In her mind’s eye, she could see his shock at the change melt into lust, her nightly dreams becoming a reality as he ravished her willing body.  A low rumble from the desk brought her back to her senses as she peaked over her bangs at the now growling Saiyajin.

 

“We are acquainted, Ouji-sama.  Distantly acquainted.”  Her previous cheekiness evaporated at the menacing sound, her answer guarded.  Why was he asking these things of her?  If he truly knew her secret, would he not ask her directly?  While Vegeta was cunning, he was never sly.

 

“I hope you are correct, for your home world’s sake.”

 

“Ouji-sama?  I don’t understand.  Has something happened to Chikyuu?”  The dread niggling at the back of her mind through this whole exchange flared to life.  Why was he asking about her and Capsule Corporation and Chikyuu?  His stance relaxed infinitesimally as his head tilted just a hint more in her direction. 

 

“Your planet still stands, free for now. A Tsiru-jin mercenary battalion assigned to the planet are somewhat detained, I understand.”  A sigh of relief past her lips at the news.  Though she could not see his face, Bulma heard the smirk in his voice at the second statement.

 

“My father’s spies tell me Frieza’s forces are searching for this ‘genius without compare’ who appears to have escaped her doomed world.  From your distant acquaintance, do you believe she is merely attempting to save her own skin?”  Fury warred with that ever-present dread at his question, and she almost cursed herself for not revealing her true identity.  No, she cautioned herself.  He was asking because he wanted the truth about this phantom woman through someone he trusted.

 

I wonder who has your greater loyalty.  When he first said these words, they seemed an abstraction to her but the concrete real-world consequences were playing out before her.  How deeply could she reveal her plans to him?  If she was too revealing, would he suspect her of lying or even leading him astray?  Again the thought came unbidden, reveal yourself to him, what would happen? 

 

Rose coloured glasses discarded, she saw a grimmer possibility if she shifted sex before his eyes.  Would he think her a spy or assassin sent by Frieza who could shift her appearance at will?  The most generous interpretation would be that she was a liar, while Miana’s warning again sounded in her head about Saiyajins and sex slaves.

 

“No, Ouji-sama, she would not abandon her people.”  Bulma finally answered.  “Why do you wish to know?  Are you hoping to make an alliance?”  A spark of hope flared in her at the thought.  Maybe, maybe her mission could still prevail? 

 

“Something like that.  My father’s Minister of Intelligence believes he has found the girl’s hiding spot on a space station in the Phrygian region.  It’s an out of the way spot but from the physical description he was able to able to glean, it appears to be her.”  Bulma could only stare in shock at the revelation. 

 

“As I told you at the start, I have a mission for you, Chikyuu-jin.  If this woman is truly a ‘genius without compare’, I want you to convince her to pledge her fealty and technical know-how to the Saiyajin Empire.”  After the emotional rollercoaster of this exchange, she nearly laughed out loud.  If only he truly knew, she thought, how gladly she had already done so.  Her prince was asking her to convince herself to pledge her loyalty to him.  No, not herself but some imposter.

 

“And what is she pledging herself to, your highness?  She is wise and prudent and will not agree to anything without guaranteed safety for her planet and freedom for her people.”  At those words, Vegeta turned on his heel and faced her for the first time in the whole exchange.  Bulma cursed herself for a fool.  Before the gravity room, she could have gotten away with such a flippant, familiar statement.  Now it was a liberty too far.

 

“If she is what you claim she is then the crown may allow her world to become a vassal state.  They will be beholden to the Saiyajin Empire and subject to its will.  I can promise protection from invasion, boy, but freedom is a step too far.”  She nodded, the questions swirling through her head to define what conditions were required.  Like a petitioner in the judiciary, she weighed her options in argument at her judge, hoping to find a way to win her cause. 

 

“Please excuse my boldness, your highness, but if I’m to treat with this woman, it is best to know what I’m allowed to offer.”

 

“That is not for you to decide, boy.  One of Cawliefe’s underlings will be going as lead negotiator with you and Radditz to act as support.  You may not have realized it, but the Royal Guardsman has enough technical know-how to determine how effective their weapons systems will be.”  Weapons?  The Saiyajins themselves were living weapons, what did they need artificial ones for?  Cold poisonous thoughts chittered through her brain; did you really think they were better than Frieza?

 

“With such a legation, I fail to see how I could possibly help.”  Did he want her to whisper sweet lies into her ear and convince this mystery woman of the justice of the Saiyajins?  Even while he was plotting a fate little better than that offered by the Tsirujin?  She nearly bit her tongue as she realised her mistake for answering him with such familiar distain.  Vegeta seemed not to notice, as a small smirk graced his lips.

 

“I’m not totally convinced that Malanga is correct; he was hardly able to find a description and her given name is still a mystery.  Frankly this Chikyuu-jin woman’s cunning matches your own, Goku, and as a ‘distant acquaintance’, we need you to confirm her identity.  If she is your incomparable, you are to speak of Saiyajin mercy.”

 

“And if she is not?”  Bulma jumped a little too quickly at that question, needing to know the consequences to this imposter.  Vegeta seemed to pause and looked down at her slight form, the short-lived smirk tightening into his all too familiar frown.  He turned again to his desk, seemingly dismissing her and her question from his considerations.

 

“If this is just a group of Chikyuu-jin refugees, you have my leave to follow them when your fealty is done … if you so choose.”  Bulma’s throat tightened in gratitude; Saiyajin mercy indeed.

 

~*~*~*~

 

 

Space, the final frontier.  When she agreed to this mission, to slip the surly bonds of the only home she knew, what adventures she dreamed of having.  Imagine the myriads of planets, stars, phenomena beyond the limited books in her father’s palace. 

 

“Chichi, do you have those sandwiches ready yet?”

 

This was not what she had in mind.

 

Growling under her breath at useless men, she grabbed a head of lettuce and began to hack at it like was chopping off a head … and making it into a salad.  Flipping the top slice off the pre-arrangement sets of bread in a smooth motion, she tipped the knife before catching it in her other hands.  Toppings and condiments whizzed through the air, placed precisely by the young woman’s quick sure hands.  She almost smiled at her mastery of the delicate operation, the act like a comforting form of fighting.

 

“And don’t forget the dill pickles this time.”  A red mist overlaid her eyes as she picked up the cleaver and bisected each sandwich, growling in fury at each chop.  She came to the last and a hiai poured forth from her lips as she split the sandwich, the chopping block beneath it and the table beneath that.  Not skipping a beat, she slid four plates under the downed table, the sandwiches landing perfectly onto each plate.  Balancing each plate along her still arm, she walked into the small living room space and the two men mindlessly flipping through channels on the television.

 

“Here is your sandwiches, you useless wretches.  Get your own pickles, Yajirobe, unless you want to take the plate into her serene highness?”  Chichi offered, teasing the overweight fighter.  Looking from the kitchen to the hallway, the spiky-haired mountain man shook his head furiously before walking into the kitchen.

 

“Did you break the table again?”  The gravelled voice yelled out in shock.  “And why are they always on the top shelf?”

 

“I guess it’s up to you, Roshi.”  Chichi replied, handing the plate to the bespectacled old man in the Hawaiian shirt who looked on the simple sandwich with trepidation.  Chichi quirked an eyebrow at the former martial artist and current lecher, her meaning as clear as if she was waving semaphores: just do it.

 

With more courage than Yajirobe, the old man grabbed the plate and walked down the hall to his doom.  Chichi merely shook her head at the ridiculous nature of men.  Give them a grand mission and they crawl over broken glass to show their merit.

 

“A sandwich!  You know I don’t eat carbs!”  Give them a petulant woman and they can’t run away fast enough, Chichi sighed as she watched Roshi running down the hallway pursued by a perfectly thrown plate, the sandwich still balanced on top.  Like Yajirobe, the old man hid in the kitchen, grabbing his own sandwich and the one from the plate before ducking through the saloon doors.

 

“Chichi, I’m hungry!”  Thinking back to her wistful dreams of adventure, the black haired woman walked down the hall where fools feared to tread.

 

“Marron, you know the rules of my kitchen, you eat what is put in front of you.  If you want something different, you actually have to help.”  She tried to patiently explain to the blue-haired woman in a tone more reminiscent of reasoning with a toddler.  The beautiful young woman whined louder and slumped into the overstuffed couch.  Chichi could practically hear Marron’s complaints about dish pan hands and touching fish but thankfully kept her mouth shut.

 

“Can I have some cheese and an apple?”

 

“The kitchen’s just down the hall and no one’s broken your legs.”  Chichi growled, ignoring the yelps of fear from their alleged protectors.

 

“But I’m supposed to be playing an heiress with handsome men vying for my attention and servants at my beckon call.”  And I was supposed to go on an adventure, Chichi mentally sighed to herself as she followed Marron into the common waiting room. 

 

“Beck and call.”  Chichi murmured under her breath.

 

“What?”

 

“Never mind.  Marron, this hasn’t really worked out like any of us expected but at least we are safe and doing our little bit to help.”  The woman merely rolled her eyes, no doubt thinking back on her earlier complaint.  For her part, Chichi could only think of her father’s eyes as he pleaded with her to get on the ship to safety from this unexpected interstellar threat. 

 

Dr. Briefs had loaded up three dozen ships with a few hundred Chikyuu-jins and sent them out throughout the galaxy.  While Chichi could speculate the where and why of some, she knew at least one was Brief’s own daughter, the focus of most of Frieza’s interest.  To help her with whatever mission she was part of, he sent out decoys, as many women of the right age and general description that could be found, each with a set of bodyguards to keep them safe.  Chichi wondered if that was her mission, though she seemed more the bodyguard to the bodyguards. 

 

“Chichi?”  At Marron’s shift from whining to wheedling, the other woman looked at her suspiciously.  The girl might come across as a bimbo but she was clever when she wanted to be.

 

“We’ve been stuck in these quarters for the last two weeks.  If I’m supposed to be playing the part of a genius, don’t you think I should be trying to find information, or looking at new gadgets, or new clothes?”  About to give a lecture on duty, Chichi paused.  They were getting low on food, and even if it wasn’t interstellar phenomena, her mind whirled at the wonders of the universe she might find on display on the space station, to say nothing of strange new creatures she might encounter.

 

“Fine, but you are telling Yajirobe he’s coming with us to at least look like he is protecting us.”  Even the threat of the katana wielding jackass wasn’t enough to dampen Marron’s excitement as she twirled and giggled around the kitchen. 

 

“Make yourself decent, Yajirobe!  We’re going shopping!” 

 

“Why do I have to go?  I just got the pickle jar open!”  Why did she get herself into these messes?

 

Two hours later, Chichi was overwhelmed with the sights.  While Marron oohed and ahhed at clothes and jewels, and Yajirobe at the food, she couldn’t get over the people.  Every combination of scales, scars, fur, feathers, eyes, arms and legs parted around them as they walked along the store lined boulevard.  Heck, some with none at all, remembering a giant purple polka-dotted amoeba broke in two and reformed after it past them. 

 

Growing up on her mountain with her father, she would meet the odd stranger but really, she never had much contact with the outside world, let alone the world outside the world.  One memorable meeting with a young tailed boy flittered to her mind and a blush tinted her cheeks.

 

They passed by another store and Marron nearly ripped her arm off to get inside.  Thrown off balance, Chichi followed the determined woman into the glitzy store, the front blinding with video screen and full sized holograms showing off the wares inside.  A six foot tall bipedal red salamander robed in a white sheath dress approached them.

 

“Can I help you?”  The shop attendant starring down its snout at Marron with utter contempt.  The blue haired woman straightened and turned to Chichi, confusion in her eyes and the salamander’s lifted its head followed Marron’s gaze.  A small shudder rippled through its lithe body at the sight, her reaction becoming more pronounced as Yajirobe appeared at the front entrance.

 

“Please, how may I be of service to you?”  It asked again, its voice as cool and sweet as a woodland brook.  Chichi started at the change but Marron cooed with delight and began pointing at several haute-couture outfits.  Giant black eyes stared into her own before nodding to Marron’s demands and invited the two women into the fitting rooms. 

 

Chichi watched, slightly horrified, as four small cream coloured ant like creatures, all similar robed in that white sheath dress, surrounded Marron.  Tape measures, bolts of fabric, scissors moved rapidly between their four arms while pins dangled from their delicate mandibles.  Turning away from the sight, Chichi looked at the wares on display, imagining herself swathed in one of those sensuous outfits.

 

“Might I ask, who is she?”  That voice like cool water over rocks sounded in Chichi’s ear and the black-haired woman turned to see the salamander a few feet behind her, staring rather pointedly at her back-side.

 

“Do you mind?”  Chichi snapped out at the obvious look and turned to face the attendant full on to give the next verbal backhand.  “And who she is isn’t important.  Just know that she’s Chikyuu-jin and we can pay what-ever price you charge.”  The approximation of a grin graced the creature’s lips and Chichi felt a drop form at her forehead.  Dear Kami, what had she just said?  Marron might buy the whole shop out from under them.

 

“Though if you could just make the most reasonably priced outfit, I think it would be less embarrassing for all.”  The shop attendant quirked her flat head and stared at Chichi anew, like she was little better than an urchin entering her high end shop.  Chichi glared back with the haughtiest look an isolated mountain princess could muster, though the warrior couldn’t hold back an annoyed growl.  At that sound, the salamander coolly bowed.  Whatever it decided seemed to go in her favour.

 

“You’ll forgive me for my boldness.  It’s not often we have creatures that look like her in this part of the galaxy, especially with Saiyajin bodyguards.  She must be someone very wealthy and powerful to afford such an expense.”  It was on the tip of Chichi’s tongue to contradict whatever title or insult had just been hurled at her but a deeper instinct cautioned calm.  Whatever a Saijin or Seyajin was, they clearly must be fearsome creatures, remember the attendant’s initial reaction when she was spotted.  

 

At this unexpected boon, Chichi straightened her spine and smirked at the salamander creature.  Nodding slightly, she watched as the salamander went back to Marron, overseeing the ant-like seamstresses as they pinned and marked a mini-dress.  Chichi lost all interest in the beautiful clothes around her, this little nugget of information and its ramifications a worry on her mind.  Sparing a glance at Marron, she kept her gait easy as she walked back into the main thoroughfare, rolling her eyes at the Yajirobe.  The fighter was across the street at a food kiosk, a now empty kiosk, currently inhaling a box of intergalactic cream puffs. 

 

“Is she almost finished?  My feet are killing me with all this walking.  It’s tough work looking intimidating.”

 

“Did Dr. Briefs share any species information with you?”  Yajirobe quirked at her question, a single raised eye brow silently asking her to continue.

 

“No, my brain glazed over after the first dozen; those things really need pictures.  Roshi took to it more, studied the files on the fifty major species.  Why?”

 

“Saiajins.”  She replied, as if the single word was sufficient in itself.  Thankfully for her Yajirobe’s eyes widen and he checked the boulevard as his hand shifted to the butt of his katana.  Fearsome creatures indeed.

 

“Saiyajins!  Where?  Did you see them?”  His voice pitched to a low murmur, Yajirobe scanned the crowds of aliens for any potential threats.  Crowds, Chichi finally noticed, that had and were still giving the pair of them a very wide berth.

 

“Yes, in the mirror.”  At her cryptic remark, he turned back to her in surprise. 

 

“They believe we are Saiyajins.  The shop attendant in there went from pig-headed to kowtowing in a heartbeat after she thought Marron had Saiyajin bodyguards.  Just think about our walk here.  Everything got out of our way, even if it had to bisect itself to do it.”  A look of realization dawn across Yajirobe’s tense face, his oversized mouth budding into a small ‘o’ and he stood a little straighter.  As if seeing the street with new eyes, Chichi watched as the aliens around them turned their heads and refused to make eye contact.

 

“The basic description sounded like something out of that old movie, the one with that girl from Kansas.  Flying monkey creatures with ki-wielding abilities, typically with spiky black hair and eyes with ‘a war-like nature’ and huge appetites.  Figured that must mean they really, really like to fight and eat.”  As if to prove the comparison, Yajirobe quickly devoured half a dozen cream puffs before gnawing on a suddenly appearing kabob.

 

“Hey!  There you are.”  Marron yelled out, running across the thoroughfare, dodging around aliens that Chichi realised were ignoring her.  Whatever these Saiyajin looked like, it was like her and Yajirobe.

 

“When you weren’t there with the credits, I told them to put the charge to our suite.”  A suite registered under the name Capsule Corporation.  Dear Kami, what had she done, giving into Marron’s demands?  And you didn’t wish for a chance to go and explore, her own conscience cut in and her shoulders slumped.  Being a decoy was one thing but they might as well have waved a banner to let every spy and mercenary in the quadrant know their identity and location.  While the noble core within herself held out hope that this might turn the tide and help Brief’s daughter, the selfish side of her feared that she had just signed their death warrants.

 

“Brrrr-ing!  Brrr-ing!”

 

“AHHH!” 

 

“AHHH!”

 

“Chichi, Marron, calm down!  It’s just Roshi on the communicator.”  Even through her furious blush, Chichi managed to glare at the shocked Marron and laughing Yajirobe as she tore through her satchel to find that damn phone.

 

“Roshi, you have Piccolo’s own timing.  What do you want?”  She yelled into the video phone, practically toppling the old man over.  He quickly righted himself and huffed in annoyance, murmuring under his breath that he was too old for this kind of action.

 

“And the other kind too.”  Chichi growled to him.  “Listen, we are coming back soon; this shopping trip had a bit more excitement than we had anticipated.  I need you to tell us everything you were able to find out about a species called the Saiyajins.”

 

“So you’ve already heard?”

 

“Heard what?”

 

“The Director of the Space Station contacted our suite ten minutes ago.  A legation has requested a meeting with us, with ‘the Briefs heiress’ in particular.  The Saiyajins are here.”

 

~*~*~*~

 

Waiting, his father sagely told him when he left the outer world service for the palace, is a constant in a guard’s life.  It was times like these Radditz wished his sire wasn’t always right.

 

“The woman’s representative said she was out shopping for clothing.  How long could it possibly take a Chikyuu-jin female to find covering?”  A snort echoed through the cavernous room and both Saiyajins turned to see the chuckling boy currently playing with the communication console. 

 

“I don’t know what Saiyajin women are like but you both better make yourselves comfortable.  This could take a while, especially if she needs to change when she gets back.”  Radditz quirked an eyebrow at Goku, the universal signal for ‘seriously’ and he nodded back, the small smirk showing his amusement at the situation.  Waiting, the constant of his life.

 

“So this is typical behaviour for females on your planet?  Making others wait and obsessing over their garments?”  Kuka took this opportunity to ask yet another question of the Chikyuu-jins, seemingly fascinated by the minute differences in physiology and culture.  Probably required for being a diplomat but it was eye-opening, hearing the depth and breadth of possible questions.  More how it put Goku at his ease.  The boy seemed to welcome speaking about his planet and people, the love of the place and depth of knowledge clear in every answer.

 

“Maybe not typical but certainly common behaviour for females.  For Saiyajins, a female’s power is literally her strength, though you do make some consideration for bloodlines, looks, intelligence.  For Chikyuu-jins, a female’s power is more complicated.  It’s in her looks, certainly, but her intelligence, displays of wealth, appeals to a male’s masculinity or rejection of it.  Add to that the desire to appear mysterious, like a puzzle that is worth everything to solve and you have … allure.”

 

“And are the males able to read these signals?”  Kuka asked in a far more diplomatic way than Radditz would.

 

“Somehow they manage.”  Goku replied, smiling in a goofy way before tensing slightly.  Radditz’s eyes darted from Goku to Kuka to see if the older Saiyajin noticed any kind of slip but that calm, slightly puzzled look remained on the older scarred face.  Must have been some weird Chikyuu-jin taboo the younger boy broke, he reasoned.  From the sounds of it, they must have dozens of them with a culture as taken with artifice and symbolic rituals. 

 

“And the waiting?”  Kuka finally asked.  “Part of the … allure.”

 

“No.  Usually it’s just rude.”  Radditz grunted his agreement.

 

“How do Saiyajin males read a female’s signals?”  Goku finally broke the awkward silence.  The puzzled look on Kuka’s face grew more pronounced, every answer seeming to bring more questions.

 

“Some we manage.”  Radditz replied with a chuckle, wondering if some noble woman had caught the boy’s eye or more than likely one of the concubines in the harem. A fraternal surge arose at the hopelessness of Goku’s position.  The harem was a one-time gift, and entry outside that occasion is forbidden.  The other possibility was even more deadly.  Saiyajin women were as direct as the men, usually initiating the mating hunt with a show of strength.  Looking at the boy’s slim frame, Radditz shook his head; Goku wouldn’t survive the first punch.

 

“There are many, but usually the first is scent.  The male smells the female’s interest and if he desires her in turn, the dance begins.”  Kuka replied, a wistful look on his face, likely remembering his first mate.  There was a rumour amongst the Royal Guardsmen that the diplomatic service must have been made eunuchs at birth.  To treat with lesser beings as equals, to fight with words and not fists, there was something un-Saiyajin about it.

 

Goku looked like he wished to probe further, his eyes glittering with curiosity but Radditz caught the nearly imperceptible shake of Kuka’s head.  Adopting the standard mask of alert boredom, Radditz watched the play of glances by the other two. 

 

The questions on both sides stopped with Kuka’s warning and the unending silence descended on the room.  Kuka sat down at the over long table, reviewing files from his console pad while Goku slowly walked along the whole length and breadth of the room.  The boy’s movements were stiffer than usual and several times he rubbed at his knees, shoulders and backside, working out the kinks from several days of inactivity.  As a veteran of the standard universal space pod, he hardly remembered what it was like to recover from the small confines of a few days’ journey.  As the boy came closer, Radditz puzzled over the lack of a mark on the side of his neck. 

 

Goku had nearly gone into hysterics when he was shown their means of transport, a single seat pod where the rider was unconscious for most of the flight.  Too late they remembered he was of a race new to interstellar travel, one with only piloted ships.  Kuka asked the Occhion mechanics at the launching port about multi-seater ships before Radditz walked behind the panicked Chikyuu-jin and tapped lightly at the base of the boy’s neck.  Grabbing him before he could hit the ground, Radditz placed him into pod and set the gas to ensure he stayed asleep for the whole journey.  While he was as gentle as he could be, Radditz was genuinely surprised at the lack of a mark, especially remembering Goku’s fine boned frame and softness, one that belied his build.

 

It dawned on Radditz that eventually, with any luck, he would see other Chikyuu-jins to have as a comparison with the unusual boy before him.  Though his appearance and gestures were youthfully masculine, his scent was at best androgynous and his manner often outright feminine.  Was this common among males of this rather strange species, or something unique about the boy? 

 

‘Does the Chikyuu-jin understand our tongue?’ The phrase, so openly in Saiyago caused Radditz to almost break his bored mask. 

 

‘Insult his mother and find out.’  Radditz bit back a little slower, his words clipped, waiting for a sign of anger or outrage to give the game away.  Kuka looked ready to test the theory when stopped and shook his head, the experiment would have to wait.

 

Distantly Radditz could make out approaching steps, the sounds overlapping and soon overwhelmed by raised words, the loudest rather high pitched.  The commotion grew so loud even Goku could hear the coming party.  Walking over to Kuka’s side, the boy looked discomfited at what would be facing them from beyond that door.  Whatever it was it was growing louder and louder.

 

“I’M NOT DOING THIS!  YOU CAN’T MAKE ME DO IT!”

 

“For the love of Kami, Marron, did you think this was a sight-seeing trip?  Get in there and pretend to be a genius.” Two piercingly loud voices echoed through the hallway, the sounds high pitched and words, if words they were, completely baffling to the slightly disconcerted Guardsman.

 

A moment later the door was flung open and the strangest looking eight legged creature undulated into the room, its head stopped while its back pushed forward.  Radditz took in the multihued and patterned body, the masses of eyes and odd protrusion of hair on its back.  At the head was a blue haired head and quite delectable feminine body, if it weren’t for its hexapod abdomen and screeching voice.

 

“I can’t face those space barbarians.  You have to do it, Chichi.”

 

“Ahem!”  The Chikyuu-jin boy cleared his throat loudly enough to catch the attention of the bizarre creature and the abdomen broke into four distinct parts, though Radditz couldn’t say if any of them were more coherent than the massive whole that came through the room. 

 

Two appeared male, if male he would call them.  One was garbed in a tight red robe and sporting a stick weapon at his side, his form the cross between a diminutive Myxini and a Saiyajin cub with his rotund body and wild shock of black hair.  The other was nearly his mirror opposite, bone thin and hairless, bedecked in a multi-patterned garb and with giant reflective eyes. 

 

Turning to the second pair, their forms appeared distinctly feminine to his eyes.  His previous thoughts about the blue-haired female form was born out, noting inviting curves barely concealed by form fitting garb.  The other figure though caught his attention and nearly made him fully break his mask.  Though dressed in less revealing clothes and not possessing such voluptuous charms, the female appeared like a Saiyajin.  Black-eyed with smooth black hair, the female moved like a warrior and from the look on her face, there was a warrior spirit housed in that seemingly frail frame. 

 

Moving his hand to the scouter, Radditz quickly scanned the four, surprised by the relatively decent readings from three of the four creatures.  The bald male showed more promise than his age would indicate.  The other male, while embarrassingly low for a Saiyajin was average for most of the non-ki wielding aliens.  The black haired female was slightly better, not Saiyajin level but … promising. 

 

The surprise ended with the blue-haired woman.  Her power barely registered in the single digit range.  Good thing she had such high intelligence.

 

“Thank you for meeting with us, Brief-san.  I trust you are comfortable speaking in the standard dialect?” 

 

“Chichi, I can’t do this.  I only bothered learning a few phrases and swear words in that funny language.  He thinks I’m a genius.”  Radditz winced at the unintelligible whine that came from the beautiful genius, his sensitive ears practically ringing.  Whatever she said must have been a clever retort as the two males chuckled.  The black haired beauty started to go red before grunting in reply.  With a look of suppressed rage, she gripped the seat across the table from Kuka, pushed the Briefs girl in it and sat down next to her.

 

“The pleasure is ours though unfortunately, Brief-san is more of a technical genius than a linguistic one.  Brilliant engineer, but struggles with the most basic syntax.”  On the other side of Kuka, Radditz watched Goku tense, practically hearing his teeth grind; what he wouldn’t give to know the boy’s thoughts spoken freely in Saiyago.

 

“I hope you are comfortable with me acting as her interpreter.” The dark haired girl continued with a tone more pleasing to the ears.  “My name is Chichi Mau, daughter of Ox King, a minor noble of Chikyuu.  Our companions are two of the stronger warriors on our planet as protection.”  Kuka bowed his head at the introductions, while Goku whispered the name of one of the men before the Mau woman could identify him.  Maybe they were who they claimed.

 

“My name is Kuka, formally here as a representative of the Saiyajin Empire.  With me is a representative of the Prince Regent, Radditz-san.” Representative?  Radditz held back a snort at the creative introduction but bow his own head as if to give credence to the story.

 

“And a member of your own kind, Mau-san, who will act as an assurance of our intentions.  Goku.”

 

“Goku!”

 

“Goku?”

 

“GOKU!”

 

“Is it really him?”

 

“That’s not Goku!  That kid couldn’t do a Kamehameha.”

 

“Who the hell is Goku?”

 

Seriously, what he wouldn’t give to know the boy’s thoughts right now, if only to know what in the world these insane Chikyuu-jins were saying. 

 

“It can’t be; his eyes weren’t blue.”

 

“A little skinny but under a certain light.  Don’t you think, Roshi?  You know they say space makes you lose muscle mass.”

 

“You lost that before you ever got into space, Yajirobe.” 

 

“Tell that to those Saiyajins, they aren’t lacking any muscle.  That tall one is totally swoon worthy.” 

 

“Marron.”

 

‘Are we sure this mission is even worth it.  Call me crazy but I have serious doubts these idiots are the representatives of some galactic technical house.’  Kuka chuckled lightly at the comment.

 

‘They likely aren’t but that doesn’t mean there isn’t valuable information.  Clearly our little friend, ‘ Kuka leaned back to indicate Goku. ‘ is more than we assumed.’

 

“I didn’t realise the boy was known to you.  He was picked up by one of our fleet eight standard weeks ago and has been a servant and advisor to the royal house.  Goku, you never told us you were a celebrity.”  The boy went red at the comment while indiscernible comments rippled between the two men.

 

“You don’t think Goku has a fan club somewhere, Roshi?  Women naming their kids after him?”

 

“A famous warrior on our planet and I happen to share the same name and it must have caught them off-guard.  I once had the privilege of meeting him and he was a kind man with a love of fighting that even Saiyajins could admire.”  The words seemed to reduce the manic energy in the group, solving the mystery.

 

“You don’t think … secret love child?”

 

“What, when Goku was six?  That kid is 16 if he’s a day, Yajirobe.”

 

Mostly.

 

“We have learned of the brilliant technology your home world produces, specifically from the technical house … .”  The older Saiyajin paused as if searching for the name.

 

“Capsule Corporation?” Chichi asked, oddly relieved to have this play return to a script.

 

“Yes, and we hoped to see some of these inventions and speak with the daughter of this house about forging an alliance against a common enemy.”  Radditz felt the flicker of admiration again at Kuka’s tact of getting this back on track.  More than that, he didn’t raise the obvious direct question; was the loud mouthed, blue haired woman this daughter?  The diplomat was asking for a show of competency, rather than the easy lies of a direct question.

 

The Mau woman must have seen the out Kuka had offered and turned to her now bored counterpart, whispering in that strange rolling dialect of their kind.  Looking over to their own Chikyuu-jin for any sense of comprehension, Radditz was surprised at the subdued, despondent look on the boy’s face.  Distantly acquainted, the boy had said, maybe he hoped that this woman could be the key to saving his people and planet.

 

“Kuka-sama, I must say you bring hope to our planet which has had very little these past few months.  It would be Dr. Briefs’ pleasure to show you some of Capsule Corporation’s technology.”  The black haired woman slipped a hard case out of her pocket and handed it to the other woman.

 

“Just pop the capsules a distance away and say anything, ideally about the stuff inside.  I’ll fill in where I can.”

 

“Do you think that cute boy understands us?  He’ll know I’m not really saying those things.”

 

“Marron, if he understands Japanese, he knows every moronic thing we’ve already said.  That he hasn’t given us up to those two Saiyajins means he might actually be on our side.”  The women threw a sideways glance at Goku and Radditz wanted to smirk.  The boy might be unused to women but they seemed very taken with him.

 

“Capsule Corporation is an engineering and technology company, mostly physical products all of the highest quality which can be stored with the patented encapsulation technology.”  The blue haired woman walked over to Kuka and placed a small white cylinder no bigger than his little finger on to the table in front of the diplomat.  A string of their strange language poured from her luscious mouth, her eyes imploring them to understand her request.

 

“She’s explaining that you need to hit the plunger on the bottom then toss the dino capsule away from you.  Just a warning there will be a loud pop and some smoke but it will be worth it.”  An unexpected voice rang out in the room and the Chikyuu-jins looked anew at the previously silent Goku.  So the boy did understand whatever dialect they were conversing in.

 

“Yes, and make sure to give it some space when you do toss it.  The capsule you are holding is a single dwelling capsule home.”  The Mau woman continued, her voice unsteady at first until she became all business again.  Kuka looked incredulously at the claim, even turning to Radditz to toss the small white object at the Guardsman.  Catching it with ease, Radditz’ stony expression finally cracked as he easily grabbed the ‘capsule’, the weight infinitesimal.  Might as well, he reasoned, pushing the plunger at the end and tossing the cylinder to the far end of the room.  This was what they were there for.

 

The pop and smoke were larger than he was expected but the results were larger still.

 

“Ta da.”  The blue haired beauty cried out as a round one storey structure appeared out of the smoke.  Both Saiyajins gaped in amazement and approached to examine this new development. 

 

“It’s astounding.  How, how is this possible?”  Kuka asked, recovering from the shock quicker than Radditz.  The Guardsman was trying to pick up the structure and barely raised it an inch, the weight a strain on his muscles.  The blue haired beauty babbled away, clearly explaining the features with a proud look on her face.  Opening a wide portal near the middle, the three of them walked in to the space, being lead through a comfortable receiving room and decent sized kitchen.  Radditz noted with approval that one of the males, the Myxini/Saiyajin hybrid, followed them in to ensure the woman’s safety.  He now understood the Tsiru-jin interest in this planet.  If they could produce marvels like these, what else could they create?

 

The woman approached him boldly and grabbed his hand, leading him out the portal and back into the larger room while Kuka continued his exploration.  Flashing him an inviting smile, she placed another of these strange cylinders in his hand.

 

“Big or small item?”  He asked slowly, using hand gestures to indicate the size and space needed once it was released.  Indicating it was smaller, he shrugged, pushed the plunger and rolled it a short distance from the house.  The same loud pop and cloud of smoke followed as a small, un-enclosed transport vehicle suddenly appeared.

 

“Air bike.”  She cooed and with a swish of her hips she walked up the vehicle and mounted it, catching his interest in more ways than one.  In a second a soft purr emanated from the contraption and the ki-less being began to rise into the air.

 

“Smart to let her show them the capsule technology, associating her with the best of the retail lines but what are you going to do when they ask for something new or a concrete show of her ability?”  Though spoken low, Radditz recognised Goku’s airy tenor speaking in the rolling dialect of their kind and slid a glance over at the boy standing next to the black haired Chikyuu-jin woman.  What he wouldn’t give to know the boy’s thoughts right now.

 

“Aren’t you with them?  What are you going to tell them?”

 

“To the council, Kuka’s report will be enough to convince them to look further into an alliance.  The prince though, he will want to meet the genius behind these inventions and she isn’t it.”  Whatever their talk, the focus was on the woman currently gliding above the room on her strange vehicle.

 

“When the embargo lifted, Dr. Briefs tried to get at least a few people out to safety though some of us went out as decoys.  Brief’s daughter had escaped first, on some kind of mission and to attract the attention of Frieza’s spies, half a dozen of us were sent out too.  I don’t know where she is.”  At the distinctive sound of Frieza’s name, Radditz shifted his whole focus to the Chikyuu-jin couple, not hiding his meaning to the young Goku.  If these creatures are in league with the Tsiru-jin, Radditz would get the answer out of him.  Like a beast sensing danger, Goku lifted his head and found Radditz staring at him, the boy gulping guiltily before quickly turning away.  What was the Chikyuu-jin trying to hide?

 

“I know where Briefs’s daughter is.  She is waiting for my signal to reveal herself but I can’t until I know she will be safe and for that, I will need you to help me.  A friend and I were rescued by the Saiyajins but we have no way home and I fear for him.  If you take us in, I will tell the Saiyajins that you are hiding the heiress and she will agree to exchange her technical know-how for an alliance.”  The black haired woman only had eyes for Goku as she brightened, like the sun cresting the horizon at dawn.  While the blue haired vixen was a knock-out, there was an inner beauty to this Chichi that could peak a Saiyajin’s interest.  Were all Chikyuu-jin women like these two? 

 

Radditz’ estimation of Goku rose greatly as the beautiful woman cried out and hugged the young boy, kissing him soundly on the mouth.  Maybe he was too hasty in dismissing the boy’s prowess?

 

“Hopefully that will distract that Saiyajin.  Will you get in trouble if you try to escape?”  Goku blushed and scratched nervously at the back of his head.  No, he wasn’t too hasty.  The boy was a sweet-talker but couldn’t handle the physical side of a real woman if he tried.

 

“No, they will not punish me.  I’m not sure what you were told but the Saiyajins do truly have honour, and much more intelligence than the reports first indicated.  They have acted with great mercy and kindness towards me.  Briefs’s daughter would be pleased to form an alliance with them.”  Radditz growled lightly under his breath, feeling that the flirtatious tableau was not the full truth.  Yet he remembered his comment to Vegeta-ouji when he first recommended Goku for a higher position in the court.  The boy was unusual, more than he appeared.  Looking back at his interaction with the strange group, he wondered if this was a general Chikyuu-jin trait. 

 

For all of his misgivings at the mention of Frieza, there was nothing malicious in the boy.  Still, it would be prudent to give Vegeta a word about the friendliness between Goku and this party.  The boy seemed to know at least one of them before they were introduced and the friendly conversation felt more than just ease of finding your own in a strange place.

 

A small hand brushed the fur of his tail and Radditz almost lost his composure completely and grabbed at the offending hand, pulling the blue haired ‘genius’ in front of him.  The girl looked shocked before smiling boldly, cocking her hip to the side and presenting him with another of her magic white capsules.  Bring the thumb and pointer finger of her free hand together to indicate something small, he narrowed his eyes and considered the puzzle of her.

 

Hitting the plunger, he set the item next to them, still staring at the young woman.  If these beings wanted to present a temptation, they certainly won with her from a strictly physical point.  Most of his off-world squad members would have looked and not questioned, especially when her remarkable little gadgets began to appear, seemingly out of nowhere.  But … but something about her was not correct, the picture not matching the description.  Thinking back to the scanner readings, these beings were laughably low powered to Saiyajins but that didn’t mean there wasn’t more here or that these creatures weren’t dangerous.

 

Pop, smoke, and suddenly a large tall box appeared next to him.  The woman didn’t hesitate and pulled her arm free as she grabbed a handle on the side and revealed … great Super Saiyajin, a mountain of food.

 

“Chichi, maybe we can make them something to eat.  You know the real way to a man’s … never mind, you’re already there.”  The girl called out to her companion before shaking with giggles.  Radditz turned back to the pair and his eyes widened in shock.  Yes, definitely too hasty.

 

The black-haired woman was kissing Goku again, her eyes closed and her arms around his shoulders.  The boy for his part was hardly kissing her back, allowing her to dominate him while holding her in a light hug, everything in his posture like a comforter and friend.  The couple broke the kiss at the blue-haired woman’s laugh and turned to their audience; Chichi beaming with a light-hearted smile while Goku with a more pensive expression on his young face. 

 

“Chichi, some food?”  The woman repeated again to her companion, holding up a small plucked bird in a strange container. 

 

“Dr. Briefs wishes to know if you would like to share a meal with us.”  As if on cue, his stomach growled, reminding him it had actually been over two days since he last ate.  Not for the last time did he wish he could speak to Goku in Saiyago and ask if there was more significance to this gesture than eating.  Yet, had the boy’s loyalty been compromised?

 

“Such a change in protocol would have to come from Kuka-san, as he is the diplomat and the only one who can treat with you.” Taking both the coward’s way out while still laying down the law to Goku, Radditz walked back to the house.

 

‘Radditz, you should see the kitchen they have in these places.’  The voice rang out before the older Saiyajin came to the door, taking in the scene with equanimity.

 

“I understand you are an excellent cook, Mau-san.  Hopefully I’m not too forward in taking Dr. Briefs’s offer a meal.  I’m starving.”

 

~*~*~*~

 

Dear Kami, it might work, it just might work.

 

“I trust you don’t need me to strap you into your pod again?” A low rumbling voice sounded behind her and Bulma vigorous shook her head.  No, she needed her wits about her, she needed to plan.

 

“Excellent.  Our little conference was far more productive than I could have wished when the Chikyuu-jins walked in but it would be best to discuss it somewhere more secure.”  Kuka followed behind, still snacking on the shrimp dumplings that Chichi had provided.  Even though she had been in the company of Saiyajins for two months, their appetites still amazed her.  The fact that Chichi, with a little help from the rest, was able to make enough food to feed two and a small troop of humans with left-overs was nothing less than remarkable.

 

“I will say, Goku, she’s one heck of a woman.  Is it typical for females to claim the males?”  Radditz asked, his manner teasing but Bulma wondering if there was some genuine curiosity in his question.  Marron, the ‘Bulma’ imposter certainly made her intentions clear. 

 

“Chichi-san didn’t claim me.  I just told her that an alliance looked promising and she … ahh … showed her appreciation.”  She couldn’t keep the blush from her face; how could something be the truth and yet a total lie?  Would it be better if they thought she was just a smitten boy with a beautiful woman or suspect that she was plotting something so insane it might work? 

 

“Sure.”  Radditz smirked.  A ripple of low growls, punctuated by clipped ends of words sounded between the two men and Bulma stiffened again.  She could make out the odd word of their language and when they spoke so quickly, it was a blur.  When they broke out into it back in the conference room, she was sure they were testing her but all she could make out the question form of the verb understand and the words ‘mother’ and ‘find’.  Whatever they were saying was meant to keep her out; dear Kami help her, did they suspect something?

 

The three Saiyajin space pods were ready to go and Bulma stared at her obstacle.  If she and Yamcha were going to escape, she would need to understand this pod and as she had not had the chance to examine it on the way here, she would take advantage on the trip back.  The few hours she was out from Radditz’ knock out should be enough, the thing was a standard issue and the controls were in the universal dialect.

 

Watching the others and the technicians at the space port, she took in the standard safety checks and followed suit, checking for any sabotage or potential wear that could cause a malfunction.  Inside, the pod was large enough for two to sit very uncomfortably, the padded bucket seat made to accommodate a large Saiyajin.  Basic controls for programming the flight paths with panels for monitoring life support systems and the primitive shielding technology lined the rest of the walls.  Sitting in the wide seat, Bulma closed and secured the pod door, hoping they wouldn’t see her explorations.

 

Beneath the seat was a box of fuses, a dozen pronged tool that looked vaguely like a screwdriver, and several small cylinders, back-ups for gas and oxygen for the air circulators.  Minimum tools for repair, but then, not exactly a lot of space for supplies.  What do they do for water and food?

 

Under the flight plan controls, a speaker and microphone, a small dial to select frequencies with two or three buttons to the side.  A knock at the large window nearly caused Bulma to jump out of her seat, barely missing the ceiling of the pod.  Radditz leaned down, smirking at her ridiculous behaviour.  Pointing at the comms unit, he flashed her a series of numbers with his fingers, letting her know the channel.  The Saiyajins really did want to talk and they wanted her to participate. 

 

Setting the dial for the radio, he pointed to the other side at the life support system and mimed the phrase two hours, before flashing her his spread palm and pointing at last to the red button next to the navigation computer, walking away to his own pod.  Finding the timer he indicated, she set the dial for two hours and strapped herself in for lift off in five minutes.

 

She watched with interest as the navigation computer updated without her input, the programming set to a parent-child relationship for everything but the general functions.  Smart if a squad is going out, but she would have to work out how to decouple a pod from the relationship or how to establish it for her own once she worked out all of the logistics.  Dear Kami, please let it work.

 

As she watched her decoy showing off her technology, a flash of insight came to her, what if her father’s decoys could be a decoy for her.  Revealing her identity directly to the Saiyajins was off the table but they had never met her as herself.  If she escaped and presented herself as Marron did, this time the real thing, they might be willing to help her.  Her mission would be a success, the role she played as the boy Goku at an end.  And while she never wanted to bind her breasts or gel her hair again, the thought of what she would lose, specifically the intimacy with her Saiyajin Prince, made her heart ache.

 

“Bulma girl, it’s the only way.  Yes, you’ll be as stranger but at least it isn’t pining away with unrequited love for a man who will never see you as anything but a boy.” She murmured lightly to herself.

 

“Hope you’re strapped in, Goku, because it’s 30 seconds to lift off.  Count down at 5 seconds.”  Radditz’s voice exploded over the radio channel and Bulma was terrified that her previous confession went through.  A yellow button marked ‘open channel’ gave her some peace that her secret was still safe.

 

“Roger.” She replied, pushing the button.

 

“Who the hell is Roger?”

 

“I hear you, Radditz.  17 seconds to go.”  Double checking the last of her straps, she wondered if she could ask Radditz about the inner workings of the pod.  It wouldn’t be any different than many of their conversations before she was transferred to directly working with Vegeta.  Surely he wouldn’t suspect her motives?  Maybe in the old days but he was on high alert with her now, a little shudder passing through her as she remembered the murderous look he threw her when she and Chichi started to talk.  The sense of betrayal that she was speaking in a secret way that he couldn’t understand must have goaded; it certainly did for her when the Saiyajins did it.

 

“5…4…3…2…1.  Lift off.”  The radio crackled and the tiny thrusters lifted the craft up and away from the space station port and soon they were in deep space, hurdling through the great unknown. 

 

“Sorry for the subterfuge but spies could be everywhere and I’d rather not have Cold network spies listening.  Our presence might have attracted more interest on the group than we could have wished.  Once we land, Vegeta-ouji will expect a report and I would like to confer with you both before I give my final thoughts.”  Bulma waited in hope of hearing his initial thoughts but only silence greeted her; Kuka was playing it close to the chest.

 

“The technology is impressive and the uses of capsulation process are limitless.  Nothing they showed us had any direct military applications, but I could only imagine what they could do just with improving our pods, armour, and scanners.”  Bulma relaxed at Radditz’s reply.  She worried the Capsule technology wouldn’t be enough enticement to overcome their clear suspicions of the Chikyuu-jin delegation.  No, she realised, their authenticity was her job.

 

“Were you able to get any specs from Dr Briefs?  Any upper mass or size limitation for Capsulation.”  Bulma held back a snort, she highly doubted such technical questions were on Radditz’s mind when it came to Marron.

 

“No, the language barrier was too deep to have a conversation at that level.”  Bulma did snort at that one.  “Though I’m sure Goku was asking those questions.  He clearly knew the group, even if they confused him for a celebrity.” 

 

“It was just a coincidence.  You can blame my mom for being such a fan of traditional Chinese comic novels.  My poor brother’s name is Pigsy.”

 

“I think we found the insult for Goku’s mother.” A growl cut through on the radio and Bulma huffed, yes, it definitely goaded.  She would have to do something about this.

 

“Goku, you weren’t surprised by those capsules, what do you know of them?”  Glad to have something technical to talk about, she gave all the specs and enough of the general theory of the process to keep them from glazing over in boredom.

 

“They brought those items to trade, or maybe get a merchant house to show interest and sell their goods inter-galactically.  Everything they showed you was retail oriented, for people to buy.  Capsule Corporation doesn’t produce weapons out of conscience, at least not military grade stuff.  Most of what would be interesting to the Saiyajin: defence, communication, improved transportation, training equipment, they could easily manage.”

 

“I see your talk with Mau-san was very productive.  Remarkable woman you have caught for yourself, Goku.”  Now even Kuka was teasing her about Chichi.

 

“So that blue-haired eyeful is this incomparable Dr. Briefs?”  Vegeta must have told him about their conversation; did he include about his offer to let her go as well?

 

“They are affiliated with Capsule Corp and speak on their behalf but no, she was not the Briefs heiress, just a decoy.”  Eyeful, huh, did she ever catch you, Bulma thought.

 

“A decoy! So it was nothing but a ruse?”  Hearing the growing anger in Radditz’s voice, Bulma started talking fast, hoping there was no flaw in her plan.

 

“Yes, and a very valuable one.  Kuka mentioned the Colds’ spies and that was what the Briefs were most worried about when they planned this mission.  As you suspected, the woman was looking for a potential ally to save her planet from Frieza’s tyranny with Capsule technology as her bargaining chip.  If the Colds’ caught her, it would be her enslavement and that of all her people.  So she hid and sent out decoys, ones close enough in appearance to fool the spies if needed.  If they were approached, they would show the technology as if to trade.  If the group offering a more concrete alliance showed promise, the heiress would meet with them directly.”  Dear Kami, let them bite, let them believe it.  Enough of it was true that she couldn’t be caught in a lie.

 

“How do you know this?  Were you in a part with one of these decoys?”  Kuka asked, his voice subdued, maybe weighing the honesty of her character.  Damn it, she hasn’t considered the possibility that they may think she was in on the plot and didn’t reveal it to them.

 

“No, my ship left the planet just before Frieza’s troops made contact.  I was part of an exploration crew.  Chichi told me everything about this plan when I told her the Saiyajins could be a promising ally.”  Realising there might still be too many questions, she kept going.

 

“You are right, Mau-san is a remarkable woman.  The ‘eyeful’ was the decoy but she is the brains.  Like Saiyajin nobles, she learned how to be very sharp and a smart judge of character.  I merely confirmed the reports she had received about the Saiyajins.  She was so grateful that she … well … you saw.”  A pair of deep chuckles sounded through the radio and Bulma sighed in relief.  Better they laugh about her love life than dismiss her offer of technology.

 

“All of those Chikyuu-jins are more than they appeared.  The old man you identified was once one of the most powerful fighters on his planet and is a prized instructor to new fighters.”  Sick dread bubbled in her stomach at the words; what could that old hentai have told Kuka about her mission, or the Briefs’s heiress.  If he told some of the more embarrassing stories about her younger self, she could maybe link them to Marron instead. 

 

“After all of that interest in your name, I had to know about the other more famous Goku.  Turned out he is very close with the heiress, nearly family I understand, and went out with her on her mission.”  She wasn’t sure if it was relief or just talk about the real Goku but Bulma felt tears flooding her eyes at the loss of Goku and Krillin.  Please let this work, she prayed, please let their deaths not be in vain.

 

“Yes, there will be much to report to the council and Vegeta-ouji in particular.  I’m going to send out a quick communique to Cawliefe and the Prince before stasis.  See you both in two days.”  Wait, what?  It took two days to get to that station? 

 

“One minute to gas release.”  No, she needed her wits about her to work out everything.  She wanted to explore the pod, though a rational part of her brain warned against tampering with a machine when you are hurdling through space in it.  The fact that Yamcha was scheduled to be released from the regeneration tank a day before she left only through a further wrench into her plan.  What if he revealed that the real Goku had died?  What if he gave a contradictory account of events and got all of them thrown into prison?  What if he confronted a Saiyajin and got his fool head blown off? 

 

“Ten seconds to total stasis.” Already she could detect the sweet smell of the knock-out gas as her thoughts grew hazy.  Shifting herself into the most comfortable position she could while strapped into her seat, Bulma let her thoughts wander sorrowfully to Chichi and the second kiss.

 

“Sorry for our shock at hearing your name, it was such a surprise and I thought…  I once knew a Goku, Master Roshi’s student.  We had an understanding, a vow we shared and I hoped.  He went with the heiress and the fact that he isn’t here is all I need to know.  The sadness of the woman’s voice touched her to the core.  Here was someone who loved Goku as well, more than her own platonic love, and all Bulma could do was nod.  The wound, even two months on, still ached and more than anything Bulma needed to offer succour for someone feeling that loss fresh.

 

Chichi gasped at the hug and returned it, and Bulma revelled in the comfort of another person’s touch.  The other woman kept looking into her face, and a look of sorrowful tenderness shone out in her eyes.

 

“Goku is gone.  But maybe you could be the Goku he never had the chance to be.” Before she could react, Bulma found herself being kissed, sweet and slow, a kiss of comfort and hope.  No, her drowsy mind balked, as sweet as it is, this isn’t right. 

 

“No, it’s not, Chikyuu-jin.”  She could feel the rumble of his words against her chest and Bulma wondered about the side effects of that gas.  Like a switch, she felt the kiss change from innocent to passionate, the taste changing to the spicy musk of her dreams.  Her drugged mind conjured her Saiyajin Prince kissing her, caressing her with that wicked tail.  With the understanding that this was as close as she would ever get to him, she indulged fully in the fantasy. 

 

~*~*~*~

 

“A set of decoys?  Clever, clever girl.”  Vegeta murmured under his breath, this incomparable genius was going up in his estimation.

 

The cryptic hyperlink message Kuka sent out to the Minister of State’s private channel piqued his interest enough that he met the delegation at the landing port, Cawliefe and Nappa at his side.  The trio listened intently as each gave their report, his anticipation growing with Radditz’s confirmation of the technology and Goku’s confirmations with his fellow Chikyuu-jins.  At the ultimatum of this Briefs heiress, he actually smirked at the woman’s audacity against the Tsiru-jin.  For nothing else alone, he would treat with this scientist.  If her technology was as good as Goku stated, so much the better.

 

“Did these Chikyuu-jins give you any indication of how soon this heiress could meet with us?”

 

“With the need for discretion and travel times, one to two weeks at the very least.”  The boy paused, his shoulders tense as if he was preparing for a blow.  “If you would grant me a boon, could I meet with this group of Chikyuu-jins directly again … as your representative?  She would be more receptive to treat with you if she were assured of the seriousness of your request.  What better way to show your mercy, my lord?”  Ahh, his earlier offer seemed to entice the boy more than he had anticipated.  While there was merit in the request, a small part of Vegeta felt … regret at the boy leaving his service so soon.  Maybe, maybe when he treated with this woman, he would ask if the boy could be an ambassador in his court. 

 

“An excellent suggestion, my boy, as you seemed to have been so instrumental in getting this information for us,” Cawliefe interjected, bringing the Prince’s thoughts back to the here and now. 

 

“It reminds me, Goku, your friend has been out of the tank and staying in the med bay for the past three days.  Don’t concern yourself, he seems to be a great favourite with the nurses, but he seems much disoriented and a familiar face may be a great comfort.  If you have completed your report, you may go and visit him.  Remember his fate is still to be determined.”  Knowing a dismissal when he heard it, Vegeta watched Goku slowly get up, confusion nakedly obvious in the boy’s eyes. 

 

“Meet with your compatriot and when he is ready, present him to me.  If it is your wish, I will grant you what I promised.”  Goku nodded, hope and uncertainty shining out of those too expressive eyes, and without another word left the room.  Whatever indecision the boy was wrestling with, it would be best be resolved without an audience.

 

“Do you think that little shit is planning something with those Chikyuu-jins?  I don’t know why you show him such favour, Vegeta-ouji.”  Grunting at Nappa’s crude remarks, he again dismissed the possibility that Goku may betray him.  The fact that even Nappa noticed his regard for the boy was more disconcerting.

 

“Loyalty needs to be watered if it hopes to be cultivated, as your father used to say, Nappa.  When Old Choy died in the last battle of the great war, his troops fought to avenge him through the thickest part of the battle and won the day for the Saiyaijns.” 

 

“The loyalty of Saiyajins can be cultivated.  Goku is nothing but a weak Chikyuu-jin, like the rest of his pathetic race.”

 

“That’s where you might be wrong, Nappa-san.”  Kuka interrupted, drawing the attention of the room with that odd remark.  Sparing a glance at Radditz, even the normally stoic Guardsman was vaguely surprised. 

 

“Wrong on both counts.  I don’t doubt Goku is loyal but Saiyajins and Chikyuu-jin may be more in common than we first thought.”  Of the room’s occupants, only Cawliefe remained nonchalant; there must have been more in that cryptic message than he had guessed.

 

“If you will indulge me, Ouji-sama,” Kuka acknowledged him before turning to his chief. 

 

“I observed the humans for any unusual facts, not just their technology but their physiology, culture, ethics, to determine their suitability as allies.  Young Goku himself provided much of my analysis and while the boy is clever, he had no guile and gave thoughtful answers to all of my questions.”

 

“When more of his kind showed up, it provided further fodder.  Radditz-san was occupied with the females,” the Guardsman had the temerity to blush, “and when the house appeared, I took the opportunity to chat with the males.”

 

“The old man was a wealth of information about humans, the species our young Goku belongs to and not the only sentient one on their planet.  All of them seem to live in a semblance of harmony and many are quite powerful.  I believe he was curious about us when he caught sight of my tail,” Kuka unwound his brown furred appendage from around his waist to punctuate his point.

 

“He began telling me about Goku.  No, not ours but another individual with the same name, supposedly the greatest fighter on the planet.  Monstrously strong by human or even Chikyuu-jin standards.  The man was his sensei, a teacher of martial arts, and was very happy to answer all of my questions, as it flattered himself and his old student.  He noted that when the boy first came to him, he also possessed a tail but it was removed when he changed into a giant were-monkey at the sight of the moon.”  Not even Cawliefe remained calm at that news; a Saiyajin on Chikyuu?

 

“I understand this mission has been rather dull for most of the humans, so the old man has been watching a lot of old fights and tournaments.  He had the last world championships and was showing me Goku’s fighting style, though it was from over two years ago.  Thankfully, the old man has … quite a picture collection and had several more recent pictures of his greatest student.”  At this, Kuka pulled up a hologram of this fighter.  Expecting a Saiyajin face, Vegeta and especially Radditz gasped at the sight.

 

“Bardock!”  Nappa’s deep growl confirmed Vegeta wasn’t mistaken, though this one was clearly younger and didn’t sport the trademark scars.

 

“Yes, the resemblance is uncanny.  If I could hazard a guess, the boy might have been part of an old territory land grab program to send infants out in pods to claim potential planets.  Clearly something happened to this Goku to keep him from his mission, and a good thing too, as he would have destroyed this planet and its technology.” 

 

“How long ago would this have happened?” Cawliefe asked, his eyes alert and engaged as Vegeta had rarely seen in the unflappable diplomat.

 

“The boy would be twenty-two standard years now and the program sent eight month olds.  The program was stopped when it was revealed how many died in transit or of starvation on the planet.  Your lady mother was instrumental in its end; she lived to see it banned outright.”  Vegeta felt every eye on him at the mention of the former queen, as he did whenever she was mentioned in public.  The bone deep instinct to hide the welling of emotion came to the fore, targeted at the too confident face staring out at him from the hologram.

 

“Piss poor warrior if he wasn’t able to fight for his planet when danger came.  The fact that they are sending decoys, old men, and young boys into space as a life line makes him more pathetic.”  Nappa and even Radditz nodded at the sentiment; a Saiyajin who didn’t fight for his home was unworthy of the name.

 

“Is the boy dead?”  Cawliefe asked, a level of defeat in his voice that surprised Vegeta.  What difference did this weakling’s death mean to the Minister of State?

 

“The old man Roshi didn’t know.  He was light on details of the full nature of their mission, and likely realised he might have said too much.  From my understanding, a squad of Frieza’s mercenaries was initially sent to take over the planet in a standard purge.  It was narrowly defeated but not before sending a distress call to their cruiser.  This Capsule Corp sent out representatives with the warriors to sue for peace when the legions came, probably showing off this capsule technology as a lure.  The move saved the planet but even they didn’t anticipate the cost Frieza would demand of them.”  Hence the desperation plan, Vegeta inferred, and if they were sending warriors out with decoys, they would send their strongest with the real prize.

 

“Did this warrior ‘Goku’ not know his heritage?” 

 

“For all their curiosity, these Chikyuu-jins barely looked beyond their own solar system.  Roshi mentioned a knock on the head when this Goku was young, it could have caused a loss of memory and what amount of pod training the baby would have received.  Non-human Chikyuu-jin are somewhat common so he might have thought himself a sort of hybrid.”

 

“What difference does any of this makes apart that some third class weakling Saiyajin lived on Chikyuu for twenty years?  Unless you are going to make him some bargaining chip if you treat with this ‘heiress’, Ouji-sama.” 

 

“Oh, I have every intention of treating with this woman, and might even let ‘our’ Goku, as you dubbed him, Kuka, take part.  As for this rogue Saiyajin, he is your father’s son, he can share your father’s fate.  How much is the bounty on his head?”

 

“Frieza upped it to two million credits in the last month.  He seems to have pissed off the Colds twice as much as usual lately.”  The question had been rhetorical but Vegeta was surprised at Radditz’s ready answer, the Guardsman keeping a closer tab on his wayward sire than Vegeta had anticipated.  The fact that the rogue Saiyajin seer was such a thorn in the Colds’ side made him smirk.

 

“Wherever this other Goku is, he’s well hidden.  With a two million credit bounty and him being the doppelganger of your father, every bounty hunter in the galaxy would be looking for him.  If he’s protecting this ‘heiress’, we were fortunate to have found these humans to lead us to her.  Excellent work, Kuka, Radditz.”  Nodding to each man, Vegeta dismissed the assembled and motioned to Cawliefe to follow him.  His father would expect a report and it was Vegeta’s pleasure to give his father this news.

 

~*~*~*~

 

“Sir, I’ve confirmed the identities of the humans on Bryges Station as the Briefs’s heiress, a servant woman named Chichi Mau, and two washed up human fighters from earth.” A voice like cool rippling water sounded out over the communicator and Kuwi nearly laughed out manically.  He’d found her at last after his little miscalculation.  The woman had survived and hid out on some backwater space station.

 

“Has she attracted any other attention?” Salas Prime help him if one of Frieza’s other captains found this woman and brought her to the Colds before him.  This was his ticket out of this boring desk job, stamping forms and listening for intelligence.

 

“Yes, sir.  A small legation of Saiyajins with some human pet came to visit her a few days ago.  They listed their mission as trade talks on the station manifest but one of them was a Guardsman to the Prince Vegeta … and the son of Bardock.”  Bardock’s son, this business might be more valuable than he anticipated.  He could get the Briefs woman, that Saiyajin thorn and the now 2.1 million credit reward all in one. 

 

“Excellent work, Chinake.  You will not be forgotten when I make my ascendancy in Frieza’s court.  Now I need you to monitor them closely, especially if there is any sign that the Saiyajins might be returning.  Do you understand?”

 

“Oh yes, sir, I’m far ahead of you.  Will reach out whenever I hear any new chatter.”  The link to Messaline cut out and Chinake smiled her wide salamander smirk.  Walking to the back of her store, she caught sight of the bespoke gown that bipedal ape creature had ordered.  Her long fingered red hands lifted a beautiful necklace of blue gems to her eyes, a perfect accessory for that spoiled brat.  None of those stupid humans would look twice at the gift enough to notice the small listening device.  It was all too easy.