Previously on Dragonball Z…

The Cell Games ended with a bang as the monster Cell was finally defeated by a newly empowered Gohan. His hidden power finally unleashed, the young half-saiyan obliterated the android and saved the Earth. All of Cell's victims were brought back to life by the power of the Dragon Balls… save one.

Gohan's father, the legendary Goku, had been forced to sacrifice his life during the battle with Cell, and because he had already been wished back once before, he could not be revived a second time. While Gohan and the Z Fighters tried to devise a way to revive the fallen hero, Goku spoke to his friends from the Otherworld, asking not to be revived. Because so many of his enemies had put the Earth in peril just to kill him, Goku decided that the Earth would be safer if he remained dead. And so the Earth was forced to say goodbye to its greatest hero.

Two years have passed since that day, and the peace brought by Goku's sacrifice has endured. However, all is not well beyond the Earth's solar system. Frieza's once vast empire is no more, and a new power has risen to rule over his former domains. A mysterious warrior from this new realm has just arrived on New Namek, seeking the power that Frieza failed to acquire. For what purpose does he seek the Dragon Balls of Namek? The answers to that and more await…

Dragonball Z: Bloodlines

Part I

Elahn Saga

Chapter 1: New Adventure

New Namek

"The… Dragon Balls?"

Elder Moori was not one to be easily startled, but these strangers' request had sent chills up his spine. Memories of the last time a group of aliens had come looking for the Dragon Balls were still fresh in his mind, and they offered no comfort.

He hadn't known what to expect when he saw a strange spaceship resembling a black wingless bird land on the outskirts of his village that morning, but he had prepared himself for the worst. It wasn't that Moori thought that all aliens were untrustworthy, (he had nothing but kind things to say about the Earthlings he had met), but these three creatures standing before him made him nervous. They were not of a species that Moori had encountered before, though they looked similar to Earthlings. The one who had spoken was the tallest and most heavily built of the three. He had spiky, dark grey hair and dark eyes that looked rather… aged. If those eyes were anything like Namek eyes, that one had seen many years pass him by. The two beings that stood on either side of him were of the same type, only younger. Both had emerald eyes and light grey hair shaped like a fish's spine. In fact, they both looked exactly alike, save for the long scar one of them bore on the left side of his face. Each of the three wore what looked like body armor, dark blue and metallic on the torso, and light blue and leathery everywhere else. They also wore that strange scouter device over their eyes.

And they were powerful. Very powerful. Moori doubted that any of the five Namekians with him would last five minutes if it came to a fight, or that there was any warrior on New Namek that could hope to stand against them. Worse still, he could sense more of them still inside their ship, each as strong as the ones that stood before him.

The tall one spoke again: "That's right, noble sir. Our master had heard of your magic balls, and desires to use them. He will pay any price or complete any task you request of him in return for one wish."

They haven't threatened us yet, thought Moori, but they could kill us all easily if they wanted. I must be careful. "Tell me," he said, "What does your master want with the Dragon Balls?"

"That is his business and his alone," replied the man, "Just know that it will bring no harm to you or your people."

"That is an answer I cannot accept," said Moori, "The Dragon Balls are sacred to us, and we cannot give them to strangers so easily. Especially strangers such as yourselves. I sense… hardness in each of your hearts. Each of you has killed many times."

The younger men looked at their superior, waiting for his reply. After several seconds, it came: "You speak truly, noble elder. Let me explain. I am Razor, and my companions are Jaster and Mace. We are warriors of Elah. They have been so all their lives, and I barely remember when I was not. Jaster's face testifies to the battles we have been through. We left many dead from them, but we had no choice. We could not let Frieza reign unopposed."

"You fought against Frieza?" asked Moori, not expecting such an answer.

"Without shame, noble sir," said the stranger, "Not long ago we shared a common enemy. We would have done anything in our power to save your planet from Frieza had we been there. Surely you see that there is no reason to mistrust us; we are friends here."

Moori considered the man's words, sensing that the other Nameks with him were more at ease. Moori understood. This stranger's story had almost convinced him to agree to let them use the Dragon Balls.

Almost, but not quite.

"I do not doubt that you opposed Frieza valiantly, Razor," he said, "But so did many others, good and evil. The saiyan Vegeta also opposed Frieza, yet he thought nothing of slaughtering our people. I remain unconvinced. If your master wishes to use the Dragon Balls, let him come here himself and tell me his wish. Otherwise I cannot help you."

The one with the scared face, Jaster, spoke up. "You doubt us still! You insolent old…"

"Quiet!" said Razor. Jaster obeyed, though with a scowl on his face. Razor ignored it and pressed a button on his scouter. "Your highness," he said, "The Elder wishes to speak with you in person." He paused as if listening, then said, "I'll tell him." Razor turned to Moori and said, "He will come. Wait a moment for him."

Moori looked back toward the visitors' black ship and saw a figure about three-quarters as tall as Razor emerge from the ship. A light purple robe and hood hid his face. Razor, Jaster, and Mace knelt on the ground as the figure walked deliberately past them towards Moori. The Eldest Namek could not help but feel uneasy as the being approached him. Whoever he was, this person was strong, even stronger than Razor. He stopped in front of Moori and spoke.

"Are you the leader of the Nameks?"

A child!? Moori was so surprised that he could barely reply that yes, he was. A mere boy has this much power? he thought.

Moori was further surprised when the boy knelt on the ground before him. "Noble Elder," he said in a polite, stately voice, "I am the Prince of Sacred Elah, heir to the throne to which all elahns bend their knees. I have journeyed far to seek a wish from your fabled Dragon Balls. What must I do to obtain it?"

"First," said Moori, "Rise. Tell me your name and what you intend to wish."

The prince stood and was silent. Then he said, "Elder, may we speak in private, away from your people?"

Moori considered the request. "Very well," he said.

"Elder!" cried on of the Nameks, "You can't! What if he…"

"Don't worry, Kargo," said Moori, "I'll be fine." To the Prince he said, "Follow me." Moori proceeded to lead him to the nearby shoreline, safely out of earshot. He was suddenly very interested in what this young man had to say.

"Hey Nameks!" shouted Mace, "The Prince said he wanted privacy!"

"Yeah stop eavesdropping, ya nosy grasshoppers!" said Jaster.

"Shut up, you two!" said Razor. He turned toward the Nameks and said "Forgive them, good sirs. They are young and stupid. But I do ask that you kindly refrain from listening in on the Prince's conversation. Your elder did agree to give him privacy."

The Namek that the Elder called Kargo gritted his teeth as he said, "Very well."

Satisfied, Razor turned to Jaster and Mace and knocked them both on the head. "You idiots!" he whispered to them, "You want to ruin this?"

"Sorry sir," they said in unison. Razor sighed. These two were such hotheads. Life as mercenaries must do that, thought Razor, And do it well. Life in the Royal Army hasn't beaten it out of them yet!

Putting his annoyance aside, Razor looked towards the prince and the Elder, who were still talking some distance away. He hoped the prince would have better luck than he had. Even though Razor hadn't lied to the Elder, the old namek didn't trust him. Okay, so he had left out the part that Elahns were a warrior race, and that as such he, Jaster, and Mace would have become warriors anyway even if Frieza had never shown his ugly face in this part of the universe. Still, it wasn't as if that was a bad thing. Who did the Elder take them for? Saiyans?

Razor looked up and saw the prince and the elder walking back to them. Everyone present, both Namek and Elahn, waited with baited breath to hear what decision had been reached.

When they had reached the others, the Elder spoke. "Prince of Elah, you must forgive me. While you have told me much of your heritage, I know nothing of you yourself. Furthermore, I sense great anger and bitterness in your heart. Because of this, I cannot allow you to use our Dragon Balls. However…" he paused, hesitating for a moment before continuing, "However, you need not despair. There exists another set of Dragon Balls on the planet Earth. You might try making your wish there."

Razor was relived. Perhaps they would have better luck with the inhabitants of Earth. The prince, however, was not thrilled. "That does not help me," he said, nearly dropping the stately tone he had practiced so hard, "Earth is probably a wasteland by now. Dr. Gero's machines will have seen to that. Even if they haven't, it's only a matter of time before his creature Cell does."

"You know of Cell!?" cried the Elder.

"Do you?" asked the prince.

Collecting himself, the Elder said, "I know that he is dead."

"Dead?" said the prince. Razor could tell that this news shocked him.

"Yes," said the Elder, "He was killed on Earth two years ago."

"Tell me," said the prince, "Was it Goku? Was it the saiyan who killed Frieza?"

"Goku?" said the Elder, "No. He… he did not survive the battle. It was his son, Gohan."

The prince was silent.

"Gohan is still on Earth," added the Elder, "and so are the Dragon Balls. We sent one of own there to make sure of it. If you truly are who you claim to be, I'm certain you will be allowed to make your wish."

The prince remained silent for a moment. Then he bowed and said, in his most polite, diplomatic voice, "Thank you Elder Moori. You have earned the friendship of all Elah. May the Kais grant peace and prosperity to you and your people." With that, he walked back towards the ship, beckoning his men to follow. As they walked, Jaster protested, "What's the deal, your highness? Can't we just…"

"Shut up," said the prince, not even attempting to be polite.

"But…"

"I said shut up! Nameks can hear sounds at great distances. So be quite until we're on the ship." Jaster obeyed.

The interior of the ship was much like the outside: black and Spartan. As it should be, Razor had said many times. After all, it was a military vessel, not a pleasure yacht. Standing at attention at the back of the ship's bridge, Razor felt a swell of pride and professionalism, knowing that he was aboard the most advanced ship in the Imperial Fleet, manned by his Highness's strongest and most loyal warriors. For only the inhabitants of this ship, the EIS Wolf's Wing, could be trusted with this critical mission.

Razor glanced around the bridge once more. The Prince, still in cloak and hood, sat in the command chair in the center, with Jaster and Mace at their stations behind him.

In addition to these and himself, the ship held two other inhabitants. One was Mara, who sat at the Prince's left hand, her dove grey hair in a short ponytail. Mara was the daughter of one of the Queen's handmaidens, only his Highness's elder by a few years. She and the Prince had grown up together, on the run from Frieza and his men. She was one of his best soldiers and, possibly, his favorite sparring partner.

The last crewman was Obi, the mop-top manning the pilot's station at the front of the bridge. Obi was Jaster and Mace's younger brother and fellow former mercenary. While he was the probably the weakest of the group (which wasn't saying much), his real power lay in his skill with machines. There was no better pilot or mechanic in all the Empire, and none more devoted to the Prince.

Now that the ship had taken off, the silence ordered by the Prince was broken. "I still don't understand why we couldn't have just taken the Balls," said Mace.

"What?" said the Prince, "You'd have us make Frieza's mistake?"

"I get it," said Mara, "We need a Namek to work the Dragon Balls for us, right?"

"Exactly," said the Prince, "As we know, Nameks do not bend to threats. Even if we exterminated all of them, we'd get nothing. It would be a pointless slaughter."

"Do you think our luck will be better on Earth, sire?" asked Razor.

"We have no other choice," said the Prince, "Obi. How long will it take us to reach Earth?"

"If these coordinates are correct, at top speed we can be there in one standard month, milord," said Obi.

The Prince was silent for a moment, then said, "How long do we have?"

Jaster answered, "The best experts predict we have one year, give or take a month or two."

The Prince paused, then said, "We have time. Set course for Earth, top speed."

"Very good, milord," said Obi.

"I'll be in my quarters," said the Prince rising from his seat.

"May I escort you, sire?" asked Razor.

The Prince smirked at his overprotective bodyguard. "You may. Commander, you have the chair."

"Yes, milord," said Mara.

Razor walked with the Prince to his quarters. At the doorway, Razor spoke: "If I may, sire?"

"Go ahead, Master."

Razor allowed himself the smile. The boy still addressed him the same way he had when Razor had begun to train him after his father had died, though he'd never do so in front of anyone else.

"I've seen you deal with many other races as stubborn as this one. Why did you back down so easily?"

"The Elder would not give in," said the Prince, "I could tell he was determined not to."

"It's more than that, sire."

"You know I hate it when you read me like that, Master."

"You make it too easy, sire."

The Prince smirked, then was serious. "If the Dragon Ball's cannot help us, Master, then my only other option is on Earth."

"Kakarot's son?"

"Yes." Razor was sure the Prince could sense his disapproval, but said nothing.

"I need rest," said the Prince, "Be in the training room in three hours, Master. I feel like knocking you on your butt again."

Razor grinned. "You may try, sire."

Razor stayed for a moment after the Princes door had slid shut. From inside the room he heard the Prince's voice growl out a single word:

"Gohan…"

Earth

The night sky of East District 439 was alight with the glow of energy blasts as a Namek and a young Super Saiyan leaped across the rocky cliffs, battling with speed and intensity that would leave the inhabitants of most worlds shocked. The two combatants charged at each other, trading punches and kicks at blinding speed several feet above the ground. After what seemed like an eternity, the fighters broke off and darted to the ground below. They paused as they touched down, staring at each other. The Super Saiyan's outfit was identical to his opponent's: a purple gi and pants with pointed brown shoes. It was his way of honoring his mentor, who did not seem particularly pleased at the moment. "You've been slacking, Gohan," yelled the Namek, "We've been at this for only an hour and you're already getting tired."

Gohan had noticed that he breathing a little harder than he should be. "I'm sorry Piccolo," he said, "I haven't had time. Mom's been making me study a lot, making up for lost time she says…"

"That's no excuse!" shouted Piccolo, "I've been watching Vegeta. He's started training again. At this rate he'll surpass you. If something stronger than Cell shows up, do you really want to leave the Earth's fate in Vegeta's hands?"

Gohan remembered the last time that they had put their hope in Vegeta. Not only had the Saiyan Prince's arrogance and desire for a challenge led him to allow the Androids to be unleashed, it had also led him to allow Cell to attain his Perfect form. Gohan had since realized that if he had failed at the Cell Games, Vegeta had failed first… leaving Goku to pay the price. "No," said Gohan, pushing back memories of his father's death, "I can't let that happen again."

"Then prepare yourself!" shouted Piccolo as he charged forward for another attack. Gohan stood his ground, sidestepping at the last second and sending a kick into Piccolo's back. The blow connected, sending Piccolo crashing to the ground. Gohan had no time to gloat, however. Piccolo spun around as he landed, sending an energy blast back at Gohan. Gohan leaped and dodged the blast… only to slam his face right into Piccolo's green fist. I forgot, thought Gohan, He can extend his arms. Before he knew it Piccolo was on top of him again, raining down blows. Gohan blocked and counter-attacked as best he could. It reminded him of their training in the wilderness years before, preparing for the arrival of the Saiyans.

But Gohan was not a little kid anymore.

Feeling an opening, Gohan grabbed one of Piccolo's arms and threw his mentor to the ground, following up with a two-handed blow to the Namek's head on the way down. Briefly, Gohan entertained the thought that Piccolo had had enough.

He should have known better. Piccolo leaped back up at Gohan without a hint of fatigue. Gohan raised his guard, readying himself for his teacher's attack.

The battle continued on for two more hours.

Gohan and Piccolo sat down by the river, both exhausted from the night's training. They had both drank their fill of water, so much so that Gohan thought that he would burst. Still, that didn't stop him from carrying on his usual one-sided conversations with Piccolo.

"Goten's growing up fast," said Gohan, referring to his one-year-old brother. "He's still a handful for Mom and me. And he looks just like Dad! I'm thinking of training him when he gets older, but I don't know if Mom will let me. Or if I'll have time. I guess I could cut back on studying, but Mom wouldn't like that. And I have to keep up with my work if I want to go to college someday. Mom's really pushing me towards that…"

"You should thank her," said Piccolo, uncharacteristically breaking his usual silence.

"Huh?" asked Gohan.

"Goku trusted you to protect the Earth, and you need to be strong to do that. But you don't have to be your father. Or me." Piccolo looked at Gohan and continued, "You have to keep yourself in shape so you're always ready, but you don't have to dedicate your entire life to fighting. As long as you keep up on your training, you can be whatever you want to be."

Gohan face broke into a big smile. "Thanks, Piccolo," he laughed, "I better be getting home. Mom won't like it if I'm too tired to do my homework."

"You have one week, kid," said Piccolo, "And you'd better put up more of a fight next time!"

"Right," said Gohan, "I'll be ready." With that, Gohan took of into the sky, flying home.

The Son house was all dark when he arrived. Good, he thought, She's asleep. Besides keeping his training a secret, Gohan didn't want his mom to catch him up and out so late. All thirteen-year-olds had bedtimes, even if they had saved the world.

Quietly, Gohan crept inside though his bedroom window. Then, just as he thought that he was home free, the lights in his room came on.

"I wondered why you were sleeping in so late!!"

Gohan yelped, suddenly finding himself facing the person he loved and feared the most: Chi-Chi. His mother.

"Wait! Mom! I can explain!" cried Gohan.

"Explain why you're all sweaty? Why you're sneaking out at night dressed like Piccolo?! You've been training!!" Chi-Chi stomped towards him.

"Mom! Please!" said Gohan, backing away.

"I thought we agreed you were finished with fighting! I thought we agreed that you'd study to be a scientist or a scholar, anything but a muscle-headed fighter!" She had backed him up against the wall. "Your father was always training! Your father was always going off getting into fights! And now he's… he's… BWAAAAAAHAHAHA!!" Chi-Chi collapsed into Gohan's arms, crying uncontrollably.

Gohan was at loss for words. "Mom…" All he could do was hug her.

"Oh Gohan," she sobbed, "Gohan, my baby! You have to stop this! Do you hear me? You have to be a scholar, or a scientist, or even a plumber! I don't care as long as your safe! I can't take care of Goten by myself! I can't lose you too!" She looked up at him, her tear-filled eyes pleading to her first-born son. "Please, promise me you won't train! Promise me you'll stay away from that awful Piccolo!"

Gohan looked his mother in the eye and said, "I can't do it, Mom. Piccolo's my friend. He's been there for me since I was little. I can't just abandon him. And I can't help it if all he wants to do with me is train. Besides, if I keep training, I'll be ready for whatever happens. I can't protect the people I care about if I'm not strong."

"Goku was strong!" sobbed Chi-Chi, "And he still didn't come home!"

Gohan was crestfallen. "I let him down, Mom. I let him down when I fought Cell. I won't let it happen again. Please. For you. For Goten. For everyone. I have to do this."

Chi-Chi stared at her grown-up son. "You're… just like your father, Gohan." She hugged him again. No more was said that night. No more was needed.

Gohan had been surprised that morning when Chi-Chi had let him sleep in. He had been even more surprised when he walked into the kitchen at 11 am in his teddy bear pajamas to find that a cheerful Chi-Chi had prepared him a huge breakfast, which he promptly proceeded to devour. Just like his father, alright, though Chi-Chi as he sat across the table in a rocking chair, feeding little Goten his bottle.

Just as Gohan was finishing off the pancake, Chi-Chi spoke. "Gohan?"

"Huh?" said Gohan as he tried to swallow what was in his mouth.

"I've been thinking about what you said last night," said Chi-Chi.

"Oh?" said Gohan, realizing it was time to stop inhaling the last of his breakfast.

"Tell me," said Chi-Chi, "How many friends do you have?"

"Ummm…" said Gohan, perplexed by the question, "Well, there's Piccolo, and Krillin, and…"

"And how many aren't friends of your father?" interrupted Chi-Chi, "How many are your own age? How many aren't wild animals?"

"Ummm…well…hmmm," said Gohan. The thought had never occurred to him before.

"Exactly," said Ch-Chi, rising from her chair, "You don't have any. You've spent all your life in your father's world with your father's friends, always trying to be just like your father. But you can't be your father, Gohan. You have to be you. You have to find your own way. You have to have friends your own age to grow up with. You know how to save the world, but you have to know what it's like to be a kid, before it's too late. Do you understand, Gohan?"

"Um, I think so," said Gohan, "But how am I gonna do that?"

"Well," said Chi-Chi, "Luckily there's almost a month until it starts, so we have time to get you signed up."

"Signed up? For what?"

Chi-Chi gave Gohan a triumphant grin. "Gohan," she said, "I'm sending you to school!"

"School?!" yelped Gohan.

- - - - -

It seams Chi-Chi has thrown Gohan a curve ball. How will a boy who has fought off powerful space aliens and monstrous androids fare against the horrors of Middle school? And what of these Elahn warriors seeking the Dragon Balls? Will their arrival destroy Gohan's chances of being a normal teenager? And who is their mysterious Prince? Stay tuned for the next chapter of Dragonball Z: Bloodlines.

Author's Note: Reviews are appreciated. Depending on the length of each chapter, I'll try and update every week if I can. Apologies in advance if I'm late: I'm a college student.