Chapter Eight

Itonami had been different, Dosetsu thought. He wasn't sure what made him think about her at this moment, but facing death twice in a such a short amount of time could scramble your thoughts a bit. He peaked up at the sky above him, thinking.

The last time he'd seen her she'd been angry with him. He remembered because she'd seemed so unnaturally calm at the time that she must have been furious. It was the day Dosetsu had been banished. Five years ago, give or take.

Nights on Vegeta were pleasant compared to the day. The air didn't grasp at you in the same way that it did when the suns were in the sky. Why so many beings flocked to the planet the Saiyan could never understand.

Dosetsu sucked in a breath as the rubble above him shifted. He was surprised he felt it considering the things he couldn't feel at the moment. He exhaled slowly, holding back a wince as he did so.

"Sirch..?"

The Saiyan waited a moment but no reply was offered. He began to wriggle around beneath the debris that blanketed him, testing what parts of his body were still in working order. The whole of his wounded side had shifted from cold to numb, making clearing the rubble off his body more difficult.

Dosetsu pulled himself from the crater and found his way to a knee. He wasn't ready to stand yet, his leg trembling as he placed weight on it. The Saiyan peered back into the crater and spotted a leg jutting out from beneath a few rocks.

He clambered back down the slope, one arm hanging uselessly at his side as he cleared stones from his friends' battered form. Sirchs' arm was twisted oddly to the side and bone jutted out from beneath his arm pit. Dosetsu heaved his friend the rest of the way out of the rubble and onto the incline of the crater next to him.

"You don't look so..."

The saiyan trailed off as he met the lifeless eyes of the kabochian. He crouched next to the man, his knee protesting as it bent.

"No.."

Dosetsu checked Sirchs' pulse, feeling nothing after a few moments.

"No.."

The Saiyan pressed his ear to the mans' chest, holding in a breath as he listened for the beating of a heart.

"Sirch.."

The kabochians' skin was pale. There was no telling how long they'd been buried. Dosetsu slammed his good fist against Sirchs' torso repeatedly, listening for a beat after every few strikes.

"No.. Not here. No..."

Sirchs' body shook under the saiyans' fists, but no heartbeat came.

"Not.. you too.."

Dosetsu struck the ground, carving a fist sized hole in the rocky terrain. He stood, then, looking around for something to exact his rage on. Tears welled in his eyes, but he fought them back. There was no time for that.

The Saiyan glanced down at his side and remembered his condition. The world seemed heavier as he did, and he remembered how much blood he'd lost, his side visibly wet beside his limp appendage. A layer of filth concealed the majority of his injuries, but he could feel them.

Dosetsu pulled himself out of the crater, taking a quick glance around the area as he reached the top. Nappa must have thought he'd killed him to just leave like that. The saiyan would have to count his blessings later, though. If he waited too long he'd bleed out, and that wasn't an option at this point.

He stumbled his way to a rock outcropping, one he'd used to dry clothes on in the past. The saiyan made his way past that, hand pressed to his side as he moved. His body felt cold, his eyes drooping further and further with each. He wouldn't be able to make it to the outpost at this rate. It was more than a unit away, and he didn't see himself making it more than a few more feet.

The saiyan slumped to the ground, eyes lolling a bit as he fell.

"I guess… this is it.." Dosetsu managed. It would have been better if Nappa had just finished him off. There was no honor in being left to waste away.

The area around him was suddenly lit up from above, a gust of wind whipping around him, kicking up a cloud of dust and tearing through his hair. The saiyan tilted his head back to look upwards, the movement slow, his body beginning to shut down.

"What's he doing all the way out here?"

Dosetsus' eyes shot back open as he felt himself being lifted by arms. He looked to each side and found two aliens walking him towards a small craft that had landed a few paces ahead.

"Who… are you..?"

The creatures had pronounced foreheads, multiple sets of ears and stone gray flesh. Their ears twitched as he spoke, but they didn't answer. They wore plain clothing, with no Planet Trade equipment in sight. That was a relief to Dosetsu. He wouldn't have been able to fight them off, even if they'd had the combat strength of a newborn.

They set him up in the rear seat of their ship, laying him on his good side and covering him with a sheet of some sort. It was made of a coarse material, but he instantly felt warmer as it covered him, for which he was thankful.

The saiyan felt his consciousness slipping away as he peered up between the front seats, trying to catch a glimpse of his rescuers. Besides their plain clothing there was nothing to indicate who or what they were affiliated with. For all Dosetsu knew, they were the separatists the General had been talking about. He hoped not.

The copilot turned and eyed him for a moment before speaking;

"To answer your question, I'm Keel. My friend here is Unyan."

Dosetsus' head was swimming at this point, but he forced himself into a sitting position.

"Those are saiyan names…"

The words were difficult to form, but he managed to finish the sentence before trailing off. He looked to Keel for an answer while slowly sinking back down onto the seat, resting his head on the cushion.

"Yes, yes they are. This may sound cliche but the language spoken on our home world can't be reproduced by most races vocal chords. So when we came to Vegeta we adopted names that the people here would be able to say. "

Dosetsu nodded, but it felt like the explanation had been awfully long. He quickly lost consciousness, prompting Keel to turn back towards the front of the ship. The alien glanced at his partner, grinning.

"What do we do with him?"

Unyan thought for a moment. Saiyans weren't known for being particularly palatable so there didn't seem much use in eating him.

"We'll patch him up… and then let him go on his way, I suppose."

Keel frowned at this for a moment. It seemed like such a waste, but Unyan was the boss. Reaching towards the back seat, the alien shook the saiyan awake, much to the man's chagrin.

"Wha..?"

"What's your name, saiyan?"

Dosetsu tried to reach a hand up to his eye but his body didn't want to cooperate. He grumbled a bit before replying;

"Do..setsu.."

"Alright, Dosetsu. We'll fix you up at the outpost. Get some rest."

The saiyan went limp once more and the alien turned back to the front, tapping a button on the primary console. A small display popped out of the dashboard of the ship in front of him and he hurriedly typed the saiyans' name into the Planet Trade database.

Records began to spill out onto the screen and Keels' eyes widened, a small smile growing on his face.

"We can patch him up, but I'm not so sure about letting him go on his way."

Unyan glanced at the screen out of the corner of her eye.

"We'll decide once we get back."

-S-

Itonami woke with a start, her eyes lighting up as she looked around the room. She'd begun to notice it only recently, that her eyes actually gave off a faint glow, a side effect of her transformation. The saiyan had gotten used to it after a few looks in the mirror, though it'd been unsettling at first. It felt as though she'd been remade, taken apart without her permission and then put back together.

She was thankful, though. Despite the worry she felt in the back of her mind, she was thankful for what the Doctor had done for her. Her interactions with him were strange. She'd been a child when the war between the saiyans and the tsufurujins was ending, but she'd gotten to see a few tuffles up close. They'd been dead, yes, but she'd seen them.

Now she took every opportunity to catch glances of the man out of the corner of her eye. She was fascinated with how slight his frame was in comparison to hers. The saiyan was considered small by her peoples' standards, but this man was even smaller.

Itonami rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and took another look, a greyish light reflected back at her. The woman sighed and returned to her bed, resting on her side as she tried to drift back to sleep.

The problem was it wasn't drifting. Now that she was part machine, she could flip her consciousness on and off. It was difficult to adjust to, as falling asleep no longer applied to her.

Light filled the room suddenly, prompting the woman to sit up. She let the sheets fall, her chest exposed.

"It is time for your first task." The doctor spoke, his voice calm.

Beamed led the Saiyan into a small room with a few displays mounted on the walls. A small rack emerged from the wall as the doctor tapped a button on one of the screens. Armor in the style of the PTO hung from the rack, along with gauntlets and a pair of matching boots. A pair of leggings was folded beneath the rack, as well as a form fitting tank top.

Itonami quickly got dressed, used to dressing in a hurry for missions. The doctor eyed her for a moment before turning to his display screens, checking her vitals before he committed to sending her out. He couldn't afford any mishaps this far in. Before, if anything went wrong, he'd simply deactivate her and wipe the slate clean. Now her mind and body had synced once again. Tampering with her now wasn't worth the risk.

Beamed would trust in his work up to this point, and hope that his security parameters remained in place as her mind continued to adjust. That was the problem with half organic brains. They were difficult to predict.

"How do you feel?"

The doctor broke the silence, an attempt to reassure himself. They were on the precipice, now. It was time to see if man and machine could be woven together in a way that was able to be manipulated.

Itonami turned to him and nodded, unaware of the doctors inner turmoil. Her mind was on the mission at hand, though the tsufurujin had yet to tell her what it was she was doing.

"This will be a test to see how far you've come in the recovery progress. I told you that you would be helping me, and I meant that, though maybe not in the way that you thought."

Beamed thought for a moment. Wording was important. She trusted him now, but let something crucial slip and he'd be back at square one.

"You'll be helping me in a way that only a saiyan can. Your prowess in combat is, as a people, unmatched. I don't intend to waste that talent by using you as a lab hand."

Itonami nodded again. What he was saying made sense to her. She couldn't imagine a way she'd be of use in a laboratory. That sort of thing was left to the technicians. Saiyans were meant to be on the front lines, crushing their opponents and leveling cities.

"Do you trust me?"

The question caught Itonami off guard. Why was he asking her this now? What was he about to say? She tried to remember the last time she'd been asked something like that...

"I do."

A face brushed the edges of her consciousness, but she couldn't hold on to the image. It was a recurring theme for her, but now wasn't the time to dwell on that. There was a mission to focus on.

Beamed smiled. He felt suddenly at ease, despite the puzzled look the woman bore on her face.

"This is a combat mission. You're going to assault a small Planet Trade outpost near the capital."

The doctor let this sink in. He expected her to protest; how could he ask her to fight her former colleagues? Did he really expect her to turn coat so easily?

She said nothing, though. A nod was her only answer. He grinned in return. Her professional attitude bode well for the future.

Beamed moved for the door but was halted by her voice.

"What about a scouter? Won't I need that to find them, and to keep in contact?"

"You have those functions built into you, now. Not only did I repair your body, I also improved upon it."

Itonami gave him a questioning look, obviously wanting an explanation.

"Your eyes have been outfitted with miniature sensors that work similarly to a scouter. On top of that your body has been reinforced by alloys that will increase your durability. Your combat strength has even been improved, as well. I last metered you at around nine thousand. You're a perfect warrior."

Itonami grinned at this. It'd been too long since she'd experienced battle and the saiyan was eager to test her new abilities.

"If you find yourself wondering why you're fighting the PTO just remember this... One of them did this to you. They gave up on you and left you to die. What more reason do you need?"


Yo. Relltensai here, and I have a question for you guys. I've reread the story a few times and it's starting to feel like the prologue doesn't fit. When you read it, did you find it off putting or out of place? I just want to make sure that I don't include something that could turn people off from the rest of the story before they even have the opportunity to read it. Anyway, feedback on this is appreciated. Thanks for reading!