A/N: Dear all, Sorry for the long wait once again. Like I have said before, this story will not die until it is finished but I have started full time work and so my time is limited. I can't make promises on the regularity of my chapters. So please, if you are enjoying this so far, keep reading, we haven't got to the fun part yet. XD - Karete

To those who submitted reviews - thank you very much, they are always appritiated and I take on criticism where possible.

Only the Weak

By Karete-chan

Chapter 13:

Zarbon hit the ground face first, the pendant that hung around his forehead digging into the flawless skin of his face. He could feel the blood pooling in his mouth and sliding down his chin and the sudden weight on his back as a thick three toed foot pressed him into the floor. His ribs protested angrily, promising severe pain when he relaxed yet he said nothing, knowing that it could only make the pain worse. It was a harsh lesson that he had learned long ago.

He flinched as Frieza's voice hissed near his ear. "I am disappointed in you. I do hate it so when the creatures I care about," he yanked viciously on Zarbon's braid, causing the other man to bite back a cry of pain, "neglect to do the simple things that I ask of them."

The pull on his braid lessened and Zarbon let his head fall forward, resting it against the cool floor of Frieza's audience room. The pressure lifted from his back and he attempted to quietly suck in a lungful of air. Small fingers gripped his chin and turned his face gently.

Frieza's thumb idly stroked the side of his face. "It makes me so sad. I gave you everything and this is how you repay me?"

Zarbon fought to make himself answer, coughing blood on to the floor with his words. "Master Frieza, I-I apologize for my," he paused to breathe, "tardiness the other day." Breathe. "It could not be helped. I..." He winced as the fingers tightened.

"Tell me pretty one, do you think I ask too much?" Frieza's breath whispered across his cheek and only years of practice kept him from turning his head away.

Face aching from where the small white fingers dug into his skin, Zarbon shook his head. "No Master Frieza."

"And do I not treat my people well?"

"You do Master Frieza."

Frieza lent closer. "Hn. Yes. Yes I do," he muttered, lips against Zarbon's cheek. "You especially, my pretty one."

Abruptly Zarbon's head knocked sharply against the floor as Frieza let his face go. Stars flashed in his vision at the impact and he barely heard the slapping of his Lord's feet on the floor as he walked away from him.

A scowl plastered itself to Frieza's features as he stalked from the room. Entering the dimly lit hallway beyond, he made his way through his ship, heading for his quarters. He was upset at having to treat his favourite general in such a manner but such tardiness could never be allowed.

He stopped and raised a hand to examine it more closely.

Zarbon's dark blood dripped off the end of his pearly white fingers, splashing down to the tiled floor below. A few strands of green hair had stuck to the blood and so he shook his hand vigorously, trying to dislodge them. They floated sadly to the floor to wait for a slave to sweep them away.

Frieza admired his hands; they cared for a large chunk of the universe, but so very few appreciated his work. He had saved many worlds and races from becoming extinct, allowing them to achieve the greatness they deserved. Asking complete fealty in exchange was not excessive. Not in the least.

Yet it seemed that every time he turned around these days, another rebellion was waiting to oppose him, claiming that he was a tyrant. Zarbon's council in these times was crucial to his well being and to have the man fail at his job was just unacceptable.

The scowl faded. He owned everyone's lives; if it took taking some of those lives away to make them realise, then that would be what must be done.

He would give the Saiya-jin rebel tech six months; send him an ultimatum in the form of a rumour and if there was no answer, attack Chikyuu-sei blindly. The planet itself was nothing special and could afford to be wasted.

Frieza continued down the hall, dripping the blood of his subject on the floor behind.

The hissing of the door announced Frieza's departure but Zarbon lay still a few minutes more, before achingly pulling himself to his feet. He did not want to be there when the Untouchables came for him. Slowly, he limped out of the room.

The ships lights were dimmed. It was the designated sleeping time for the majority of crew and soldiers. As he walked to his quarters he would every now and then encounter a slave, but they hastily backed away from him, bowing their heads and never looking in his direction.

Eventually he turned into the corridor that led to his rooms. It seemed an age before he had limped the length of the hall and tapped in the coded lock on the door. Wearily he looked into the room as the lights flickered on around the edges. An unfamiliar lump caught his eye and he slumped against the doorframe.

As the lights flickered on behind it the lump stirred, then jerked up as if it were a puppet on strings. Aching, he watched the slave turn in horror towards him. As he sucked in painful breaths he watched bemusedly as panic flashed into her eyes before she regained her wits and bowed, her head almost touching the floor as she prostrated herself.

He struggled to keep his eyes open and gripped the edge of the door frame to keep himself upright. Odd, he wasn't one for forgetting things but he only now dimly remembered that he had asked for her to come at this hour. He had meant it as a punishment for her, knowing that it would cut into her sleeping time; sleep that as a slave she probably desperately needed. His eyes closed.

When he opened them she was looking warily at him, still crouched in her bowed position. He rasped in another breath. It hurt and he winced with the pain. Her eyes widened and it slowly dawned on him that he was showing weakness in front of her. Stepping forward he made to move into the room but his leg faltered and he staggered, barely managing to keep himself upright. He landed heavily on his right leg to stop himself from toppling but the sudden jolt sent a lance of pain up the injured limb and it crumpled beneath him.

But he didn't hit the floor.

His eyes, closed tight against the pain, slowly opened and focused on the slave standing before him. Except that she wasn't standing before him; she was keeping him from falling. He was vaguely aware that he should be angry at her for touching him with her dirty hands but he was having too much trouble standing, so he lent on her. She almost buckled under his weight. He felt her change her stance to better support him and that her hands that grasped his cracked armour were trembling with the effort.

He pushed her to his weaker side and put his weight back on his better leg.

"Bedroom," he rasped out.

She shuffled him across the floor, sliding her feet along unsteadily. Somehow she had managed to get her shoulder under his arm. Hazily he wondered how she was supporting his height, as he wasn't bent over as far as he would have expected for leaning on someone so hunched in the back. He grunted at a sudden movement from her, his hand fisting in the filthy cloth covering her shoulders. She froze.

"Move." He barely forced the word out and was unsure that it was him that had said it. Everything seemed to be coming from so far away.

The next he knew he was falling.

He landed hard upon the slave, who let out a cry of discomfort as the jagged edge of his shoulder guard caught her heavily in the back. Breathing hard he pushed himself to the side and felt her wiggle out from under him. Only then did he feel the cool sheets against his cheek. His mind struggled to remember how she had opened the door to his bedroom while still managing to support him.

He felt hands on him and grudgingly rolled over. A wet cloth was dragged across his forehead and water ran into his eyes. Blearily he forced them open.

The slave was leaning over him, an already saturated with blood rag in her hand. She had paused as his eyes opened and averted her eyes. Vaguely he realised that she was waiting for a command.

Or expecting to be reprimanded.

He just stared at her, his mind too hazy to create a coherent thought. She lowered her hand. He followed it and watched as she went to place the rag down next to her, then thought better of putting it on his clean belongings and placed it in her lap. The mixture of his blood and water seeped quickly into the cheap material her garments were made of.

Goku dashed past a seated Piccolo, a giant wooden mallet raised above his head. Further down the white tiled garden of Kami's Place, Yamcha and Krillen hid behind Mr. Popo's carefully pruned bushes, waiting to ambush the bug known as Gregory as he giggled madly at Goku's every attempt to squash him.

Piccolo glanced across at Tien, who rolled his eyes. It comforted the Namek somewhat; knowing that he was not going mad and that this 'training' as the blue catfish thing had put it, was ludicrous. Gregory nimbly dodged the less that well thought out ambush, causing Krillen to nearly crush Yamcha's foot with his mallet.

"You could join in you know."

The two stoic warriors looked over at the blue catfish, who called himself Kaio-sama.

"All you have to do is make me laugh," he chuckled.

A derisive snort came from the other side of Tien. "These two? You have to be joking. There isn't a worse job they're suited for," Bulma muttered.

Tien scowled. "Why are you here anyway?"

Bulma tossed her blue hair over her shoulder. "I came to lend Yamcha and Son-kun some support. Plus, Kami wanted to speak with me."

"And he's nowhere in sight because?"

She scowled. "Be damned if I know how a Namek thinks. He invited me, I came, end of story."

There was a sudden shout of triumph and the three looked around to see Goku dancing about his mallet, under which Gregory lay. "Does this mean I get to move on to the next bit of the training?" he shouted across the compound.

"Certainly does, my boy!" Kaio-sama grinned widely.

Yamcha threw down his mallet in disgust, narrowly missing Mr. Popo as he went about his daily watering of the flowers. "Why does Goku always get to be so good at everything? It's not fair."

"Maybe cause he's an alien?" Bulma muttered sarcastically under her breath.

Krillen, well used to being shown up by Goku, slapped Yamcha on the back. "We'll get him eventually; and he'll be a very sorry bug when we do."

Kaio-sama smiled. Interesting bunch you have here Kami. Are you sure they can do the job?

Kami's dry laugher echoed in his head. No. I can't be sure of anything. All I know is that they are our best chance.

That doesn't sound too convincing.

What else have we left to try? Kami fell silent for a moment. Could you send the girl in? I need to speak with her now.

I still don't see why I can't do it, Kaio-sama sulked.

Kami chuckled. Because, respectfully Kaio-sama, we need someone with more tact.

ThreeBrown tried to wiggle unnoticeably to keep her legs from going numb. She had received no sign from her Lord that she had permission to, move from her spot, or anything that led her to believe that he was aware of his surroundings. He still lay where he had fallen, staring at her lap. She had long ago turned her knuckles white, beneath the dirt smeared on them, by twisting the blood soaked rag in her lap into knots.

She risked a glance at the injured man on the bed; his eyes were glazed and his breathing shallow. She swallowed; a difficult task since her throat had gone dry the moment he had walked into his chambers. She certainly hadn't meant to fall asleep but he had been late to what had become a regular session and the room had smelled so nice and comfortable. Her heart had almost leapt out her throat when her sleep deprived mind registered the lights flickering on in the room.

Her eyes focused again on the very dangerous man on the bed. He was still bleeding badly. She bit her lip. Should she try to help him or go for help? If she left and he woke up he might be angry at her for leaving her post but if something happened to him that she could not fix…

ThreeBrown closed her eyes, took a deep breath and made her decision. She would take another beating over death.

Quickly she got up and slid off the bed. Her feet had barely touched the floor when his hand shot out and grabbed her arm. Before she even had time to react she was laying on her back in the bed with the injured Zarbon leaning over her.

Terror flooded her and a roaring filled her ears, blocking out the sound of his ragged breathing. She could feel his arms trembling at the effort to keep himself up but in her panic mistook it for shaking in rage. He lent heavily to one side of her and moved a hand over her face.

She closed her eyes, knowing that his blood streaked face would be the last thing she saw, and waited for the warmth of the ki ball.

The warmth came, but in the form of the heat from his hand as it covered her face. He dragged his fingers across her skin, pulling together all the hair matted to her face before pushing it back over her head. Her eyes opened and stared somewhere around his chin, her whole body trembling. What is he doing?

His fingers slowly picked away all the loose strands as his blood dripped from a gash on his hairline, down his face, to drip off the end of his nose on to her. Finally he stopped, dropping his hand back to her other side.

"The old man was wrong," she heard him mutter. "You're not Vegeta's age." He paused to suck in a painful breath. "You're younger." He snorted softly in amusement and collapsed on her.

Heart beating rapidly in her chest ThreeBrown carefully pushed Zarbon off her. He didn't stir so she quickly checked his pulse to ensure that he was still alive. It was weak and thready. Bolting from his rooms, she had to force herself to slow down in the corridors and make her way through the ship as quickly as possible, while not drawing attention to herself.

It seemed forever before she found the medical wing; as it was rare indeed that a slave was ever brought there. The door slid open as she approached; the only one on the ship that did not require the touch of a panel. Head bowed, she stepped inside.

No one acknowledged her presence as she walked in and so she stared at her feet for a moment, thinking how grubby they were compared to the stark whiteness of the floor, before she risked looking up. A girl stared back at her, wide eyed and apparently trying to decide whether she was startled or horrified. Clasping a hand to her breast and running the other through her short cropped pale green hair, she spoke.

"You scared me!" her pretty voice said as ThreeBrown lowered her eyes. "Are you after the Doctor? He just stepped out."

ThreeBrown nodded hesitantly, wondering who this girl was, that she would speak to her so politely.

The girl's face popped into her vision and ThreeBrown recoiled in fright, nearly falling in her haste to show fealty to the other girl.

"You're one of them, aren't you?" the girl asked, her eyes wide. "One of those slaves that don't talk?"

ThreeBrown kept her head down but nodded hesitantly.

The girl clapped her hands together, reminding the slave of the many girls who behaved in such a way when they found a puppy back on her home-world. "I'm Failei, but most call me Fai. I'm the Untouchable assigned to help the Doctor when I'm not busy doing other things." She paused. "We don't see many slaves here. Are you hurt?"

ThreeBrown shook her head and pointed back the way she had come, beckoning with her other hand at the same time.

Failei seemed confused. "Is there someone out there?" she asked, moving past the stricken slave to peer out the door. When she turned around she noticed the blood on the slave's clothes. "Oh! You are hurt! Was it a fight? You can be punished for that you know." She moved forward, her nose wrinkling a little at ThreeBrown's smell. "Here let me take a look. Maybe I can fix it for you so you won't have to wait for the Doctor."

ThreeBrown backed away again, before ducking past the Untouchable and beckoning from the open doorway. The girl looked at her in confusion again, tipping her head to the side and gazing at her as one would a patient with limited mental capacity.

The slave was at a loss. How was this Untouchable not able to understand such a simple gesture? Zarbon was dying and it would be on her head if he did! Frustrated she reached out to grab the girl's arm.

A strong hand grasped her wrist before she got half way there.

Looking up she found herself gazing at soft grey-green eyes. "Touching an Untouchable is not a wise thing to do without permission," the Doctor remarked gently. "I take it you are here to see me. Where are you injured?"

ThreeBrown shook her head again as he released her, once again pointing down the corridor the way she had come.

The Doctor was sharp and was gathering his medical supplies before she realised he had figured out what she wanted. "Who is it?" he asked.

"She doesn't speak," Failei supplied.

He paused. "Ah. Failei, you stay here in case anything else comes up. The slave can help me."

"But she's filthy!" she protested.

"Stay here," the Doctor repeated, dashing out of the room, his bag on his shoulder and ThreeBrown close on his heels. He slowed to let her pass and she took the lead, taking him back to Zarbon's chambers.

Bulma stood, frozen in shock. "Is there nothing else that can be done?"

Kami shook his head sadly. "I have been trying for many years to think of a way but the sad truth is that there is nothing we can do to prevent it."

"Surely there must be. Maybe it I developed the shields more."

"There is not enough time left. It has been more than a year now and while you have made fine progress, it has not been enough. Though what you have done with your time and limited resources, has been extraordinary," he added hastily, seeing a flash of anger in her eyes at the unintended insult.

Bulma fell silent for a moment. "And you? You are the Kami of Chikyuu-sei, what will happen to you?"

"You needn't worry. I need to survive; for Piccolo's sake if not my own. He knows this, so despite his dislike of me, he will ensure my safety when the time comes."

She nodded. "So all we can do is wait?"

Kami smiled ruefully. "For now."