Author's Notes: I loved writing this story and hate for it to end so I have decided to continue it with an expansion on this world with a focus on the background on retrieval of lost Saiyans after the destruction of Planet Vegeta and Riane's parents. This will also follow Riane and Trunks through their adjustment period before the sequel, which I am also working on. It is not necessary to read the prologue to read the sequel. Thank you for all the support. I hope you enjoy! ~
The Lost Ones- Prologue
Lying on her side with her chin propped up on a palm and encased in a fluffy down comforter, the dark-haired Saiyan dropped salted popcorn one by one into her mouth, slowly chewed and stared transfixed at the novel she had gripped in her other hand. It was late Sunday evening and her violet haired mate was seated at the head of the bed, laptop at his left, and a swath of paperwork spread out before him begging for his attention. His gaze, though, was distracted by his mate's toes at his end of the bed, clenching and unclenching in evident excitement over what she was reading. They continued to grip at the sheets every time he tried to type something, making him smile when he tried to focus. A sharp gasp broke his silent smile as she sprang up, eyes round and mouth agape, tossing popcorn across the soft surface. He stared in surprise as he watched her eyes dart over the words.
"What?" He asked at her lack of verbalization.
"She died!" She finally said in shocked exasperation.
"Who?"
"Her mother! She was killed by a band of pirates." Her brows furrowed in disbelief.
"Oh no." He snickered in mock distress.
She cut her eyes to him. "You don't know." She said aghast. "It's quite surprising. I was sure she would be fine. What will happen to her daughter now? She's little and still on the vessel. She doesn't even know about her mother's demise." She brought a thumb to her teeth and bit the nail anxiously as she turned her attention back to her book. Trunks chuckled to himself as he grabbed the nearly empty bowl of popcorn and tried to clean up the strewn mess that had made it to his side of the bed. Riane sat with a tortured look on her face for a few moments longer before she sighed in frustration and closed the book with a huff.
"I don't even know why I read this. Clearly, it's just going to keep getting worse." She sulked.
"Doesn't the back of that book read something like 'a group of murderous pirates sail the seas and pillage towns'? What did you expect?" He asked as she crawled up the mattress and laid her head on his stomach, a sour look on her face.
"I liked the mother character." She whined softly.
"Maybe you should read something where the mother character doesn't die." He teased placatingly. "Or maybe you shouldn't be so sensitive. It's only a book." He tickled her side.
She stuck out her tongue. "You are a cruel man. I got all invested in her. And now what." She sighed heavily. "Why do the mothers always die." She brought her knees up and wrapped her arms around her legs.
Trunks blinked at her statement. He knew she was just generalizing and in mourning of her fictional character but it did bring some more recent memories to mind. He was proud that, as of the past couple months, Riane had become comfortable enough with Bulma to call her Mother occasionally. She certainly felt a strong kinship to both his parents and was regarded as a true part of their family.
Shortly after Trunks turned 19, the two decided to move out of his childhood home and into a modest condo only a street up from Capsule Corp. During that time, they went through a short adjustment period, with him adapting reluctantly to the reduction in affluence he was used to and Riane sleeping the same bed with him which she found unnerving in the beginning but eventually warmed up to. The two visited his parents often and Bulma always smiled at their arrival, even unannounced.
The first time Riane called Bulma 'Mother' took them both by surprise that Riane immediately correctly herself and blushed in embarrassment. After some reassurance that his mother was fine with being called by the moniker, the Saiyan occasionally let it slip, testing it out slowly, which Trunks found to be a good step in their relationship. She felt safe with his family. Now, that he was over 21 and she was newly pregnant with their own child, he desperately wanted her to feel welcomed, completely.
This impassive statement uttered at the dismay in her novel, though, made him think back to when she had told him early in their relationship the awful death of her own mother, losing a brother in the process, and watching someone she truly cared for die before her eyes. He tilted his head and decided to pry a little. He knew she didn't like to talk much about her past. Maybe she could trust him now.
"What was she like?" He questioned carefully.
"Who?" Riane asked, looking off at nothing in particular.
"Your mother." He said finally.
His mate looked at him with a suspicious gaze. "Why are you asking me that?" She said with slight defense in her voice.
"You don't talk about your parents. I know your father is still alive. You don't talk about your mom." He ran his fingers through her hair as she tensed slightly with her head still on his stomach. "What was she like?" He asked calmly. His hand moved momentarily to her abdomen where he felt the reassuring soft pulsing of a miniscule ki before returning to her hair which he began to caress in a soothing motion.
A heavy sigh as she turned her face away. He knew this tactic well in learning her subtle mood shifts. She was going to open up if only reluctantly. "She was kind. She told a lot of stories and she had a nice voice when she sang. Soothing. She was sometimes very stern with me but it was only to protect me."
Silence followed. Trunks tried another question. "Were your parents mates?" He inquired.
"Yes. He was very fond of her. After she…" Riane trailed off. She continued her thought process without finishing her sentence. "He was inconsolable. Devastated. For a long time."
Trunks bit his tongue at the thought of such a sudden loss. Changing the questions slightly, he pushed on. He knew she would stop answering soon. She never seemed to want to divulge so much all at once, even to him. "I know you've mentioned siblings before but I don't know anything about them either. How many do you have?" He asked, feeling a tinge of guilt for not knowing more about his own mate, especially something as basic as her family.
"I have two brothers and a sister. I am the youngest." She stated bluntly.
That piqued his interest. From his understanding, it was difficult to have children for the Saiyans but having three other siblings and one passing before birth would have meant her mother had almost five children. He definitely wanted to know more about them but right now, he was focused on knowing more details about the woman who used to make his mate happy.
"What did she look like?"
Riane drew her eyebrows together. Her body started to fidget indicating subtly to Trunks she was getting more agitated with the line of questioning. "She had black hair, long, not as long as mine, and always in a braid. Black eyes. She wasn't particularly tall but she was strong. A good fighter. My father used to say she was unpredictable." She cleared her throat while pursing her lips.
Threading his fingers languidly through her wavy hair in soft movement, he calmly tried one more question. He wouldn't pry anymore tonight.
"What was her name?"
He saw her face twitch slightly. He steadily combed in a calm, repeated motion. This was hard for her. He needed her to trust him in keeping her secrets safe. After a minute, she finally divulged.
"Andelia. Her name was Andelia." She strained to say.
She winced with a pained look and got off the bed suddenly. Heading to the bathroom, she flicked the light on and closed the door. The shower started shortly after. Trunks grunted, wondering if he had pushed too much. He knew it was difficult for her to open up and he only asked occasionally so as not to anger her or cause her to be withdrawn. This was progress. He just had to be patient.
"Andelia." He said to himself with a small smile while picking up a discarded piece of paperwork and began typing on his computer.
"Sit still." A male voice echoed in the cramped room.
Cringing through moderate pain in her abdomen as the numbing sensation ebbed, the Saiyan woman lay back on a sterile, uncomfortable bed, her unfocused eyes turned to the left as the rough hands of the medical staff clamped and closed the long cut near her pubic bone. A cold gel, that always smelled awful and artificial was applied and the cut began its rapid healing process. To the right of her, a snap of metal on metal and hiss emitted gently. She could feel his energy waxing and waning as he was placed inside a pod of gestational stasis. She turned back to look only once as he was wheeled out of the room. A small, 20-week old infant suspended in a safe apparatus, tail wrapped around his waist, his eyes closed, and tiny fists brought close to his body. Then he was gone from view.
"You should be fine in an hour. I don't want you to be here when I get back. I have others to attend to." The gruff Saiyan male stated tersely.
She nodded her head once as he coldly left her, closing the door with a click.
The child was Andelia's second. Another male. Another soldier in the making. At least this one would be considered an Elite like his father if his ki measured up. He would be safe and trained well. She had to consider this pragmatically.
Like her mother, Andelia was chosen to be a brood female. Since the slow resurgence of the Saiyans, mother and daughter discovered, Saiyan women just weren't able to become pregnant easily, for some reason beyond their control, and to maintain a child in the womb was just as difficult. Coupled with the 6-1 ratio of men to women, this made for a disastrous recipe that might have ended the Saiyan race altogether. Their planet and millions of its inhabitants cruelly wiped out, the remaining Saiyans were few and far between, reaching the far corners of the galaxy in dwindled numbers. Only after a small group of Saiyans formed a clan did they decide to seek out the lost members of their race. Now, they were over 150 strong, order had returned, a new purpose resonated within the clan of Elites and lower class, men and women fighting together against extinction.
Once the class system and a promising leader was put back in place, the lower class made the conscious decision to help repopulate through less than pleasant means. Brood female pregnancies were suggested and approved, a practice that was once carried out only among the lowest of the lower class on Planet Vegeta to increase the body count for ground force numbers. The current collection of Saiyan lower class agreed to a code of honor and a sense of selfless duty that was adopted by both males and females. A set of strict rules were to be followed to maintain order and safety of all parties involved. The clan needed more of their own kind and this was the most viable solution proposed.
After the hour had elapsed, Andelia rose slowly, put on the armor resting on a chair next to the bed and exited the medbay wing. She strode through the maze of hallways to the canteen, feeling the need to nourish herself before making the trip to find out her new assignment. On the way, she looked up as she passed a group of males chatting in the walkway, grunting and laughing boisterously as she curved around them. A subtle touch from one male on her hand hanging at her side, she continued her trek without changing her pace. Rounding a corner after a few more steps, she felt eyes on her and slowed to a stop in an empty part of the halls. A moment later, a man came up behind her and waited. When she did not immediately speak, he gently grazed the back of her neck softly with his rough fingers. She heard him sigh heavily as she turned toward him, her eyes averted to the floor.
"All is well?" He whispered.
She nodded solemnly as the tip of her tail wrapped tightly around her waist flicked in agitation.
He stood a head taller as he moved marginally closer, his hand made into fists.
She opened her mouth to speak and it took another few seconds before she finally did. "I saw him. He is so strong. He had such small hands." The child wasn't his but the cub was a part of her. Forcibly taken just like the other. She started to wince in sadness then immediately brought her face back to neutral. Even in front of him, she wouldn't show her feelings.
He must have known though as he lifted her face with a steady, warm hand to force her to look in his eyes. A hard face hiding his own feelings looked back at her. "I told you not to do that." He said hushed as he rubbed her cheek lightly with his thumb.
"I know. I tried not to. I could not help it." She leaned into his palm then pulled away collecting herself. She didn't want his scent on her.
He pulled his arm back and observed her sympathetically. "Only one more." He stated.
She nodded again while biting her tongue, dreading the thought. He stepped, closing what little distance they had and without touching her, he leaned in a breathed hotly in her ear. A small smirk formed on her lips as she closed her eyes, taking in his familiar scent at his proximity.
"One more and you will be mine. I will fight for you. I am only yours, Andelia." He whispered huskily.
She languidly opened her eyes. "I look forward to that. I am only yours, Kaiyon."
He pulled back with a soft contented grin, returned his features to indifference. He turned abruptly and walked past her without another word. A swell of pride and renewed determination, Andelia tried not to smile as she, too, turned on her heel and made her way down a separate hallway. Just one more child and they would be together.
The scent of the damp always got to him. Quite used to the stench of sweat or blood, the damp, musty smell that came with moisture exacerbated by bacterial growth was something he never got used to especially with his sensitive Saiyan nose. Standing awash in the overpowering dingy block of dulled metal and iron cells in the galactic stockade, his guide, a tall, pale yellow-eyed being turned and observed him with irritation.
"Ariko, was it?" He addressed the moderately tall, narrow built Saiyan with a hissed tenor in the universal language through a tight, lipless mouth.
"Yes?" The Saiyan directed his attention.
"He's this way. Follow me." The being informed with a wave of a scaled hand.
Pushing through his discomfort, Ariko, a lower class Saiyan with black hair, pulled back into a loose ponytail, didn't pause as the two passed cell and after cell of bodies crammed into small spaces awaiting whatever fate landed them into the stockade.
Only when they came to the end of the corridor and a lone male hunkered in the corner of a darkened cell, pressed up against the wall, did Ariko divert his gaze from the path.
The solitary man, wearing only thin shorts on his large frame, had his face hidden against forearms listlessly clasped around his knees. He was completely unaffected at the appearance of two standing in front. Ariko noted the skeletal look of the man, bones in his back near visible under yellowed skin, festering cuts and scars running the length of every inch of flesh. The Saiyan frowned darkly at the sight.
"Is this the man you're looking for?" Ariko's charge inquired.
Utilizing his sharp eyesight, the Saiyan spied a tightly wound brown tail wrapped about the waist of the prisoner. His own tail cinched tighter upon recognizing one of his own kind.
"Yes." He replied flatly.
"Good. Let's get on with it." He pulled an electronic pad and drew up a list in a foreign language and read from it meticulously. "This man is charged with inciting a riot, mass murder, chaotic behavior and murder of three detaining officers. He is also secondarily accused of illegal mercenary work and peddling of illegal substances."
"Are you feeding him?" Ariko interrupted, his black eyes staring with a hardness behind them.
The being balked. He huffed at the accusation. "Of course. This man may be one of the worst society has bred but no one can come in here and say our operation is not held to a high standard of care for our inmates." He responded confidently.
Drawing his eyebrows at the recent memory of bodies packed into cells in nearly the same unsanitary conditions, Ariko nodded and directed another question.
"How long has he been here?"
"About 3 weeks." The being sneered. "And he hasn't said a word in that time."
Nodding again, Ariko surmised these beings that ran this particular prison for the Galactic Patrol must not recognize Saiyans when they come across them. It was evident that the lack of an appropriate amount of food for their endless metabolism was the direct cause of the man's emaciated state. If Ariko was able to get him out of here, he'd rectify the suffering immediately.
"Alright. About the payment." Ariko began.
"It's gonna have to be pretty steep. This man is dangerous and is awaiting a death sentence. I will not release him," he glared intently until his mouth drew up greedily, "for anything less than the right price."
"80,000 credits." He offered unemotive.
"150,000." He countered.
"85,000. I will not go higher than that." His gaze scrutinized the man in the cell. The being gave a sour look. "I suggest you take the offer. It would cost you more to keep him here under your 'care' while awaiting a response from the Galactic Patrol's bureaucratic sector. It would be in your interest to just release him to my charge. Unless you don't want the credits right here, right now. All you would have to do is mark him dead in your logs once we leave this station." He persuaded.
He watched the being mull it over before holding out his hand, impatient to the response. "Give me the key." He advised.
Groaning in reluctant agreement, thin fingers held out the keycard, dangling it on a silver chain. "Credits first." He instructed the Saiyan.
Currency was exchanged and the keycard dropped into Ariko's palm. The being stalked away down the hall as Ariko entered the cell and knelt down to the weakened Saiyan on the floor.
The man's state was much worse than Ariko had anticipated and he worried for a moment that he had actually purchased a dead man when he saw a small movement of breath being taken in and shallowly released. Ariko cleared his throat.
"Can you hear me?" He asked in their mother tongue and perked up when the man shuddered moderately and some mild movement of grimy fingertips at his words. "Can you look up?"
It took several minutes before, finally, his matted black haired head lifted slowly and Ariko got a first look at his face. Dirty, heavily scarred and caked in dried blood, there was still a Saiyan's face underneath and Ariko breathed a sigh of relief. He dug around in the satchel at his waist and pulled out a canteen.
"I have water for you." He opened the container and passed it to bony fingers that clutched weakly at first then held on. He greedily guzzled the contents and emptied in a matter of moments.
"Not so fast," Ariko advised. "Don't want it coming back up."
He watched as the man breathed with raspy inhales through cracked lips and sallow cheeks, his onyx eyes sunken in his face blinked sluggishly. Ariko sat on the cold floor opposite the captive and waited a few more minutes before asking questions.
"What is your name?" He began.
Only silence followed. There was no indication that he would get any sort of response. He decided to test if he could goad out an answer.
"What did you do as part of the Frieza force before?" He asked, knowing Saiyans currently were enemies of the ruler and his kind.
The man was unswayed by the questioning. He turned away, unwilling to answer.
Attempting a different tactic, he decided on self-reflection that could possibly help him open up. "I was in communications before it happened. I, with several other 3rd class Saiyans, performed location tasks and infiltrating systems to disarm our enemies." He said. "I had started young and I was virtually invisible to Frieza and his army. As long as I did my job well, I never suffered at their hand. I felt a sense of pride working under the strongest, most powerful being in the universe. I remember, though, when things began to make me nervous."
Ariko frowned at the recall of the past while shifting on the floor, readjusting his muscular frame to alleviate discomfort and noted the prisoner adjusted some as well. To Ariko, this showed some mild indication that he was listening, at least.
"There were two events that finally pushed me over. The first, I was assigned to locate a collection of 'rebel monkeys' as they called us, only about 20 or so. Our own kind. I found them, thought their cause was unjustified, and I managed to disrupt all the communication functions on their scouters, and helped coordinate an attack to destroy them.
"The second incident hit closer to home. It was only days later, a higher up in Frieza's army directed me to locate a ship of rebels. I did, rather quickly, and I was instructed to scramble their communications and stall their ship. There were over 200, I later found out. I had a radar with the ship on the screen and watched, in a matter of seconds, it just disappear. I never, up until then, questioned my place or purpose. I was just following orders. I was given a log of the inhabitants on the ship to make note of their demise in the database. I saw the names of my kin. Both my older brother and my father had died with my help. I didn't let anyone know but I began to wonder if Frieza wanted to get rid of us."
He took a hollow breath and pursed his lips, pained at the memories. He looked up to see the man staring intently back at him, waiting, with a cold, stoic expression.
He swallowed hard and continued. "A couple of months later, I heard many non-Saiyan soldiers scream and shout in happiness that our planet had been hit by a meteor and destroyed. I mourned with the other Saiyans around me. We lost millions in an instant while the rest of our 'team' were gleeful.
"Within a couple of weeks after, I affirmed my suspicions that something was truly happening. It started with our higher elites, lieutenant, captains, being called away from the ship I was on and never coming back. Then the red dots showed up. I was told to find anyone with a scouter that had a distinguishing red dot on my coms system. Based on their locations and concentration numbers, I knew they were ours. Slowly the red dots disappeared, too. I broke. I couldn't watch our people be taken out one by one.
"I then made the decision to leave. I collected the locations of all the red dots I could find, hid them from my superiors, stole a secure data pad, stole a ship and left."
A low growl emitted deep from the weakened form as his black eyes narrowed in hatred. "You helped them bug our scouters?" He said in a hissed tone.
Blinking in surprise that the man had finally spoken, guilt came to Ariko's face as he turned his gaze to the floor. He had the impression that if the man could muster the strength to take a swing at him, he'd take the punch deservedly. "I helped locate the bugged scouters. Believe me, that realization brought me immense shame."
The man bore into Ariko with a hardened glare before tsking loudly. "You've rambled on and on. What is your point?" He asked, irritated.
Ariko's mouth turned up slightly in genuine relief that he was now speaking. "My point is there are a good many of us left. I have helped find a good portion of our brethren and we've begun to create a collective, a new clan of Saiyans. I'd like for you to join us." He put forth.
A scoff and a wince, the man nodded marginally in acceptance. "Where else can I go now." He replied dryly.
"What is your name?" Ariko asked again.
"Keel." He answered with an exhaustive sigh.
The two exited the stockade, albeit without hurry as Keel's physical stamina was nearly depleted. After a few weeks of recuperation on one of the three small ships the Saiyans maintained, multiple trips to the medbay and mountains of food, Keel regained weight and a drive to work with the other Saiyans in the clan. He pitched in where he was needed and became an integral part to ship maintenance in the retrieval of parts or making small repairs. Ariko was stunned one day realizing that Keel had gained back most of his muscle mass and size to nearly double and tower over Ariko's more compact frame. The two shared a camaraderie and Keel agreed to assist him in his ventures to find the other survivors that were scattered across the universe.
