Yo! Listen, I'm responding to several of the reviews I received. Most of them I'm pleased with, keep 'em commin, and thanks to every one of you who said you're enjoying the story, you are the guys and guyettes who I'm writing this story for! But (and there is a but!) there are reasons for all the 'errors' I've been making, and more of these 'errors' will become apparent as I continue the fic. (Short for 'fiction', which means "Non-factual", although I dunno why I'm responding to you flamers 'cos, in the words of Gotenks outa SuperGokuden2 for the SNES: "You fat pink bastard, you really suck!"). I think that's all I have to say. Now, anyway… BACK TO THE SHOW! Roll title music! AND SOMEBODY CALL GOKU ON SET! WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE'S BUSY! WELL GET HIM OUT OF THE CANTEEN! ARGHHHHH! Actors these days, eh?
- Paul
Chapter 4 – Friends, Saiyans, Countrymen!
Brolli started walking across the remnants of the City he had just destroyed. It had been interesting to watch the cars being swept away by the flames as his energy bolt atomised the metropolis. He smiled then laughed evilly, his green-blue hair swinging freely on top of his broad-built head as his gargantuan body shook. People looking at Goku thought he was big, but this guy made Goku look Krillin-sized! Gigantic wasn't the word, nor, thinking back, was Gargantuan! His chest was bare, showing off his powerful, muscular torso, the swelling bulk of the pectoral muscles, the firm lines that outlined the abdominal muscles and the curves of the external oblique muscles stretching from the abdominals to the arm pits. The trapezius (the larger, bulging triangular muscles in the neck that stretch from jaw to shoulder) and other neck muscles were large and bulked beyond any musculature norm, the knots of muscle in the trapezius alone were the size of a normal man's quadriceps. The arms, again, were enormous, the size and width of any normal human. The deltoids at the top of the arm stood out and looked as solid as a rock. The biceps and triceps were also swollen and engorged with protein acquired from combat and intense physical training, the likes of which even Vegita in his 400-times-normal-gravity could not compete against. Even this Saiyan's extensors and flexors (those muscles that controlled the movements of wrist and fingers) were grossly larger than should appear normal on even Goku, but on Brolli they appeared fitting. One of the most powerful beings in the Universe should, indeed, look the part. The muscles on Brolli's face were also grand, though they did not look odd on Brolli seeing that the rest of him was larger than life. The gold ring around Brolli's neck alone was probably wide enough for Goku to wear as a belt, and the gold-plate he wore on a chain that swung down to the top of his pectorals was enormous and heavy looking. Around the Colossus' waists was another gold band, this one flexible and served as a belt which held up the man's blood-red kilt-like garment which flopped down around his legs with tattered edges, some of the larger one's barely trailing across the floor as he walked. Also, on the legs he wore combat shorts in a dark shade of blue or possibly black - it was hard to tell from the shadows that the kilt threw upon the legs - and stretched halfway down his thighs. Yet more gold adorned the bottom of the legs, a pair of golden grieves that were clasped to his shins and helped to keep his heavy golden-brown boots in place.
Brolli looked about the scene of destruction, casually running a large hand over his forehead, past the platinum headband that contained a single scarlet jewel, and through the thick locks of that weird-coloured hair then gently stopped laughing, the smile remaining on his face. He stood, looking about the place, looking at this fuzzy little planet, remembering the many times that he had fought that bastard Kakkarot, the times he had slammed him into building and thrown his son's THROUGH them, when Vegita had screamed at him, yelling "I am the PRINCE OF ALL SAIYANS!" before being swatted away like a fly, his pathetic energy blasts hitting his chest as if they were nothing more than water bombs. And that green one… the Namek…. He had fought bravely, more competently than some of the others, but still he had felt Brolli's boots and fists and a single energy bolt that hurled him high into the air, only to feel the edge of an elbow when he got there. Those had been memorable time, and somehow they kept on managing to avoid destruction! It was all a mystery to Brolli on how they would escape, but now he was back on Earth, and he would wreak havoc once again! Presumably Kakkarot and the other's knew of his arrival, and would eventually come to face him, but until then he would have some fun. Destroy some more cities, kill more people and bring a sweet smell of destruction to the lands of planet Earth. Ah yes… this was going to be a fun vacation! Brolli took in a long, deep breath, enjoying every scent of obliteration, then sped away across the land.
Not far away, Vegita stirred on the ground and rolled himself over onto his back, spitting out dust from his mouth. He groaned and pushed himself up into a sitting position, then let himself slump back gently until he was lying back on the floor, then a sudden pain rushed through his arm and he yelled in agony once again, feeling the burning, stabbing and pulsing pain as each pump of blood caused a flood of affliction to course through his arm and chest. As well as the pain in his broken arm, Vegita felt groggy, dizzy with all the blows to the head he had received, though he had nothing more than a purple bruise on his cheek and several scratches down his face where he had hit the deck. He tried to remember back, tried to remember who it was he had been fighting against, but remembered nothing more than a blur to the fight. Though he remembered the things said before hand.
"A traitor indeed!" Vegita spat the words with distaste. "I, Prince Vegita, lawful ruler of all Saiyans, a traitor! Never! For was it not I who destroyed the fiend Frieza when he destroyed that fool Kakkarot? Hah!" Vegita once again tried to sit up, and managed it slowly by inching his way up, bit by bit, stopping when he began to feel woozy, then continuing when the mountainside stopped spinning. Before long he had forced himself into a comfortable sitting slouch, his arm cradled against his chest as he reached down and supported his body on the ground with the good arm. He rested, allowing his body to become used to this position and waited for the pain to stop coursing through arm and now chest. He winced, then rolled slightly, getting into a better position with which he could push himself up to his feet. After several botched attempts he managed it and he stood there, wobbling and slightly unsteady on his feet, as he looked about, looking at several blood stains here and there, and then smiled as he remembered that not all of it was his blood. He looked at his good hand, smiling again as his white glove was stained a deep red around the knuckles. He chuckled, embracing the idea that he had hurt the bastard who had attacked him and had called him betrayer of the Saiyans, then started to amble back along the mountain track, in the direction which he guessed where home was. He continued that way, his strength growing more and more with each stride, and soon his small broken, dragging steps became a forceful walk, then eventually developed into a meaningful stride as he trudged onwards. As he moved forward, he continually searched for the feel of a high power level, on the constant lookout in case that psycho Brolli came close, or maybe that other powerful Saiyan would come back and finish the job and kill him, leaving his body for the carrion birds.
"I am a WARRIOR!" Vegita shouted to anyone who was listening, who at that point in time was only several small animals. "I am the PRINCE! I am the leader of Saiyans everywhere! I refuse to become a… a SNACK for any animal on this forsaken, miserable lump of rock that I grudgingly call a home! DO YOU HEAR ME!" he shouted, looking up to the sun and squinting against the glare. "YOU HAVE NOT DEFEATED ME! NOT! FINISHED! YET!" Then he collapsed again, pitching forwards into the ground. He twisted around mid-fall as not to land on the already mangled arm. But the shock that shot through his body as he hit the ground was enough to make him give out a strangled cry as the pain launched through his arm and chest at the impact. He lay there for several moments, gasping for air, trying to subdue the pain and contemplating on what to do. He couldn't walk home, he had flown for nearly an hour from the Lookout in the opposite direction of Capsule Corps head quarters and he wasn't strong enough to fly back all that way. Despairingly, he realised that his only way out lay in the hope that the brat would detect his presence and come out to get him, that blasted woman of his mother in tow. He lay there for longer, thinking deeply. He knew he loved Bulma, and was aware that he was possibly IN love with her. He was the mother of his first-born, who he was immensely proud of when it came to his fighting skills, and he was super Saiyan at only 8 years old, a stage that it had taken he, the Great Prince Vegita, over twenty years of intense training and fighting to achieve. Vegita lay on the ground a little longer, breathing deeply and sucking in long, deep breaths of air to slow his heart rate down, before he attempted to get back up again. Finally, he managed it and he continued on his way, heading once again in the direction of home, kindling the hope that his Son would find him. Again his thoughts traversed to his family, a sudden longing for them that he very rarely had. Bulma, although bossy and naggingly aggravating, was the kindest, most considerate woman he had ever met, and also one of the cleverest and beautiful, inheriting the brains from the father and the looks, as well as the temperament, from that brainless mother of hers. But, Bulma was merely the bound concubine of a crowned prince; she wasn't even a Saiyan! But he loved her dearly, and wanted to marry her if he could. But, he had to hope that a member of one of the great Saiyan Houses was still alive, somebody he could marry, somebody with Royal Blood who could be his bride and queen. He had thought it unlikely that they had, until he had encountered Brolli who had told him of other survivors of Planet Vegita's demise. But, he hoped that they did not exist. Bulma was the mother of his pride-and-joy, the newest member to House Vegita, their young daughter, Bra, Daddies Little Princes. He smiled as an image of her small cherub-like face came into his mind, and suddenly he found his strength had grown, a surge of raw energy pouring through his body. He staggered onwards, a new goal entering his thoughts: Bra must grow up in a way that the youngest Kakkospawn, Goten, never had… with a father!
Maylon flew in the air at a distance from the vapour trail that headed parallel to him, seemingly following him as he dashed across this planet's surface. Every time the Saiyan had changed direction, this intruder matched it, then once when he had headed towards it, the intruder also changed direction and headed away from him. Maylon was getting angry, he didn't like playing these stupid games and he could feel his anger building more and more.
"Somebody's gonna get it soon!" he raged, picking up speed and changing course suddenly, then again, speeding up and this time heading for the other vapour trail across the sky. This time he had caught it unexpected, and he got close enough to see it was another figure in the sky, hovering there. Then it turned and dashed off. "Oh no you don't!" Maylon yelled and headed off after the figure, pushing himself as fast as he could to keep up. He was gaining, slowly but surely, and pretty son he could see that this new one was a lady, her hair flowing back and a brown, furry tail streaming out behind her. "Another Saiyan!" he thought before pushing himself to the extreme to catch up with the fleeing figure. Who ever she was, she was fast; but Maylon was faster! He was catching up rapidly now, and soon he could here the wind ripping at her clothes. He wasn't surprised to see that she was wearing battle armour, though the colours were a bit disconcerting; dark purple and green were an ugly combination to Maylon's mind. Eventually, he was close enough to reach out and touch her, so he did. She looked back, bared her teeth and kicked out, but he deftly blocked the kick and pulled her back so she was level with him. She lashed out with a fist, so quick that Maylon barely had time to avoid the blow. He avoided another kick, then brought her to a stop, then hovered in front of her. She snarled and kicked out, her tail flying behind her before curling around and wrapping itself around her waist, belt-fashion like most other Saiyans. She launched into a fighting stance and dropped back a little, and that's when Maylon un-furled his own tail. "Look, you stupid Bakka! I'm a Saiyan like you!" She hesitated, then dropped the stance, but stayed at a distance.
"Why didn't you just tell me!" she shouted across the distance.
"Would you have listened?" he asked with a smile. She was attractive, as Saiyans go, and she returned the smile and shook her head.
"No, I guess not. So, what's you name, fly-boy? And do you have any idea what we're doing here?" He looked across the gap at her.
"You mean you were… brought here too?" he asked, thinking for the right word. She nodded and he swallowed, the thought that this was a Saiyan planet quickly evaporated in his mind. "In that case, my name's Maylon, and I have no clue why we're here. Now you know my name, what's yours?"
"The name's Lady Brack Turrun, Heir to the great Saiyan House of Turrun." She answered crisply.
Brolli had left the land and was now flying over a stretch of water, watching as his energy pushed the water aside and sprayed way form him, leaving a perfect curve as if a sphere was stretching out from his body. His insane mind found such things curious, as a younger Saiyan would have done. He sped up and slowed down, watching as in turn the bubble of energy made the curve of water larger and then smaller, he grinned and chuckled, then suddenly bored of it, he then set about evaporating clumps of water by hurling energy blasts into the surf. The green, glowing bolts of energy splashed into the water, throwing up steam and droplets of water before exploding against the bed, sending up a billow of water which frothed and bubbled madly. This seemed to amuse the brute greatly, and he fired larger and larger energy blasts into the water, which in turn sent larger and larger billows of steam and water to the surface. Now Brolli was laughing with glee as he started strafing the sea with whole volleys of energy balls, each one sending up a billow, and with the amount of blasts he was hurling, there seemed to be two long parallel billows following across the waves. He sighed then turned east, heading towards the heavily forested coastline. "Somewhere in there," Brolli thought, "there is going to be something for me to eat. I'm starving!"
Vegita was once again panting heavily on the floor, face first, kneeling and bracing himself on his good arm, his broken arm tucked safely against his heaving chest. He looked up, pushed himself off the floor with a leg and strode onwards, his mission to get back home safely, to get back home to his Little Princes.
He had just been walking for less than a minute when he heard the rotors of a helicopter. Feeling a sense of elation, he lifted his good hand and let a small blast fly from his hand and exploded it in the air above his head like a flare, watching the tendrils of glowing energy ebb away amongst the air currents. "The crew of that infernal machine must have seen that!" Vegita thought, looking about the sky for that elusive piece of technology that would form his salvation. The rotors were louder now, and he panicked, looking for them so he could make sure they didn't miss him. He looked harder, using the arm to protect his eyes from the glare of the sun; then finally he saw something; a glint of light on a metal surface just below the sun. It was painfully bright to look at it and Vegita was forced to avert his gaze. The 'copter drew closer and eventually touched down on the ground. It was beige coloured and bore the CC logo of the Capsule Corps on the nose, the rotors swinging around lazily. Vegita drew himself to his full height and strode forwards towards the landed bird, looking in through the dark window-plaz. Inside, he saw a figure wave him into the 'copter, pointing at the side hatch a little further along the side fuselage. A door opened and a familiar face poked out of the hatch.
"Come on, dad! Get…" there was a sudden, harsh gasp, then: "Shit! What happened to your arm, dad?" Vegita glared at Trunks for cursing, then climbed onboard, sitting down on one of the padded chairs with a sigh of both relief and comfort.
"I'll tell you when we're back home, and what have I told you before about swearing, brat?" he said harshly. Trunks looked at the floor and mumbled an apology, but Vegita wasn't listening. He looked to the front of the helicopter and raised his voice to be heard above the din of the rotor energisers and engines as the 'copter started to rise from the floor and fly off. "Woman! Drop me off at the hospital first so I can have this arm seen to!" he called up, and Bulma turned around to look at him, leaning an arm over the back of her seat.
"Aye, aye! Captain Kirk sir!" she replied sarcastically, though smiling. He couldn't help but return the smile and laid back into the seat, secretly relieved that it had been his family that had found him and not a group of tourists before allowing his exhaustion to get the better of him and fell into a deep sleep.
The group gathered on the Lookout and watched as the newcomers eyed everybody nervously, all except Tomatta who was busy conversing with the Sons. Goten hopped excitedly from one foot to the other, looking up at his cousin, as the grown-ups talked about past adventures and missions.
Krillin took a step closer to Piccolo, still watching Goku talk with his 'guest' "Hey, Piccolo… I got this funny feeling about that guy, as if there's something more than meets the yes." Piccolo grunted; arms once again firmly folded against his chest under his cloak as a small grin appeared on his face.
"Heh, this guy creamed Vegita. I think I like him." Krillin looked up at his green buddy and rolled his eyes.
"Man, you'd like anybody who could cream Vegita. The only thing that stopped you from liking Brolli was the fact that he was pounding his face into the road at the time." Krillin added, grinning cheekily. Piccolo snorted out his version of a laugh and rubbed the side of his jaw, remembering back to one of the encounters with the ultimate Saiyan.
"Heh, yeah. That big gallute sure did beat me good. Now it's pay back time!" Piccolo said, bringing out his arms and pounding a fist into the open hand, then clasping his nailed fingers against the fist. He looked intensely at Tomatta, who felt the gaze and turned, giving a smile and a small salute before turning back to his cousins. "Hey Krillin, does that guy remind you a little of Raditz?" At this point, Videl and 18 ambled over and looked down at the heap on the floor behind Piccolo. Videl sniggered and 18 shook her head.
"Hey, Green Guy, always knew you had a way with the ladies!" 18 purred as she poked the fabric-clad Saiyan with a shoe. The pile stirred but never got up. Piccolo ignored the remark and instead kept watching the Raditz-like Saiyan over there. 18, never a one to let something drop, cocked a head to one side as she looked down. "What did you do, fight her off with a stick or something?" she asked, moving a piece of the cloth with a foot. Krillin chuckled a little, then said "Something like that, yeah!" 18 looked at her husband then stepped over and ran a finger through one of his locks of hair, smiling. Videl, however, was too busy looking at the heap on the floor. Applor and Fru came over and joined the group, giving the heap a casual glance then looking at Piccolo.
"Mother… he's green!" Fru hissed to Applor, trying not to be heard. Piccolo, however, heard.
"Yeah kid. I'm green, big whoop. Get over it." He turned his attention back to Goku, listening in. Videl continued looking at Cukumbri on the floor. She looked at the fabric and frowned as something caught her eye.
"Hey, Krillin, what is that she's wrapped up in?" Krillin tore his attention from 18 and looked over.
"Huh? Oh, that's just a curtain, why'd you ask?" inquired the happily married ex-monk. Videl, not taking her attention from the unconscious Saiyan, shook her head.
"Just wonder why there were curtain rings there… why was she wearing a curtain?" Krillin blushed slightly and Piccolo chuckled under his breath.
"She wasn't, that's' the whole point. When we found her, she was wandering around her apartment totally naked. Weird, huh?" Videl didn't say anything, she just looked at her.
Then suddenly Cukumbri's eyes snapped open and she bolted upright, clutching the curtain to her chest.
"Where am I?" she asked uncertainly, her English accent getting clearer and clearer, seemingly becoming better with every statement she uttered. Videl looked down at her, the smiled.
"You're at the Lookout, you're with friends. We thought you would be better off here with us where we can protect you…"
"You brought me to Vegita! You brought me to the betrayer!" Videl looked shocked and up to Piccolo. He shook his head.
"I told her I had come from Vegita, I thought she would recognise the name and would come more readily, but she put up a fight and I had to knock her out." Videl gasped and 18's head snapped about.
"You did what!? Why did you do that? Why couldn't you have just left her?"
"What, and left Vegita to pick up this dame? I don't THINK so, lady!" 18 shrugged, Piccolo was right, after all. If Vegita had managed to get his hands onto her, then that would be another adversary to deal with. She looked sidelong at the tall Namek warrior, but Piccolo just stood there, still intently watching the four related Saiyans at the far side, talking excitedly, trading stories and jokes.
Piccolo couldn't help but nurture the bad feeling about Tomatta that was growing inside his gut.
Vegita's eyes burst open, his body jumping as he snapped out of the sleep he realised he'd just been having. His head was spinning, but at least the pain in his arm was gone now. He swung his legs out of bed and scratched his chest through the T-shirt that he was wearing, one of Bulma's pink stripy ones. He shuddered, thinking to himself: 'I'm a warrior, not a tourist!" before standing up. The room spun faster, but he kept standing, not allowing himself to be overcome by a lousy headache. He willed himself to stagger to the wardrobe and flung it open, almost tearing the door of its hinges. He pulled out his battle armour and pulled it on roughly, sitting down on the edge of the bed to pull the white combat boots over his heels. He stood up, feeling better now that he was clad for battle, and noticed that the rooms was spinning a lot less. The door slid open and he turned towards the sound, seeing Bulma standing in the light of the doorway smiling in relief that he Vegita was out of bed, Trunks' head peering around from his mother's back. Gurgling softly in Bulma's arms was little Bra, her hands flailing about in the air as she sucked on her dummy.
"Vegita, what are you doing? You should be in bed resting!" Bulma said, her voice full of concern. Vegita turned away for a moment, then looked back.
"I cannot lie here all day like… like… like a patient in some hospital, Woman!" he snapped. Trunks still peered at his father, remembering that he HAD asked them to take him to a hospital, but instead they had brought him home so that grand-dad Briefs could use his technology instead.
"Well, what are you going to do? That arm of yours won't stand up to much punishment, you know," Bulma replied calmly. Vegita walked towards the three, pausing to play with Bra's flailing hands before striding past Bulma and Trunks and down the hall.
"Nonsense! My arm is fine!" he said, throwing a series or rapid punches, ignoring the burning tell-tale pain in his right arm where it had been broken.
"My father may be a genius, but the bio-cast he covered your bone with won't withstand much pressure!" Bulma called out behind him, concern and fear flooding into her voice. Vegita paused, looking back slightly over his shoulder.
"I'm a Saiyan, Woman, not a petty Earthling! That which does not kill we will ONLY make me stronger! And I already feel much stronger than I was!" he looked away and headed onwards.
"Well what are you going to do?" Bulma asked. The prince said nothing and continued moving away. Trunks hurried after his father as he entered the front room and opened the door to the outside.
"Hey, dad, do you need a hand?" Vegita paused, the door half-open. He didn't look back at his son, but smiled all the same.
"No, boy… I have some unfinished Business to attend to."
What is Vegita planning, will Piccolo's uneasiness in Tomatta be verified, what will that mad Saiyan Brolli do next? What WILL I name the next chapter of… TOTAL WAR!!