Title: Another Life: Return of the Fallen

Chapter Three: Lord Rhoune


After hearing Videl's panicked story Bulma stormed back to the lab, Vegeta following curiously. She chattered to herself on the way about how she had rigged the vidphone monitor to store calls for three days – since she didn't live and sleep in that room. They entered swiftly, her face etched with seriousness as she stalked to the screen; Videl plugged it back into the outlet. Bulma worked with the controls a moment and the image suddenly rewound, stopped and began to play from the beginning. She and Vegeta both recognized the Saiyajin armor they wore, and the scouters.

"Maybe Piccolo just had a few visitors, you know," Videl said, her voice quavering.

"It's obvious that his ship was captured," Vegeta sneered, "and those idiots would have killed themselves if anyone else had built it."

"Hey! I would like to see you do better on such short notice," Bulma said, "but since you think you're all-knowing, why are they wearing that armor, huh?"

"Probably found it in a dump. That armor is an old model. I can see why they would want it, though," he smirked.

"Oh get over yourself! I'm going to try contacting the ship. I'm sure Piccolo could have taken care of those guys," she said, then added, "Right?"

Videl nodded, more to convince herself. Vegeta said nothing.

The vidphone on Piccolo's ship was uncooperative – it wouldn't even respond. Which meant that they must have completely shut down the ship, Bulma concluded. They waited in case it would suddenly buzz and turn on, but it didn't. Vegeta left and returned a few minutes later.

"You're wasting your time," he said. "If they don't kill him then they're going to keep him prisoner."


"What? What are you talking about?" Bulma asked.

"You might not have any clue as to what happened out there, but I know how it works, woman. And just because the Namek is powerful doesn't mean he can't be caught. So, you can just sit here on your ass while he gets himself killed-"


"Or what? Build another ship and go after him? I don't think so! Firstly, you're the only one that seems to think he's been captured by evil aliens. And secondly, I'm not stupid enough to go into space alone.

"If you give me some time, I might be able to build that ki-detector. Once I figure out exactly how you can… feel it, or whatever it is you do, I can start designing, then building. We could try to find Piccolo with that. But we probably won't have to because he'll have told us that he's fine and not captured by then," she huffed.

Vegeta snorted.

"I hope it can find dead bodies, too."

"Oh? Well if you're so worried about him then why don't you go after him?" Bulma spat, her face pink with anger.

"I intend to," hr said.

"Really…" she said, her voice back to normal, "and just how are you doing to do that?"

Vegeta dug into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a capsule, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger.

"So you're going to fly around in space on a capsule…"

"Come with me, woman," he growled.

Vegeta led Bulma and Videl, who had tagged along, outside. He found an expanse of open grass on the Capsule Corp. grounds, clicked the button on the capsule and tossed it out far in front of them. A ship appeared, not much bigger than the Namek-based one built for Piccolo. It was a drab white and the darkening sky kept the solid coloring from hurting their eyes.

"Where did you get that?" Bulma asked, wide-eyed.

"I built it," he said. "What? Did you think all I did with my time was train?"

"Well yeah… but how?" she asked.

"Your father and I started working on the plans for this thing a while ago now. I started building it about eight years ago. And it didn't take such a long time to build," he smirked.

Bulma gave him a nasty look.

"And you're telling me I didn't notice this? It's kind of hard to miss something this big! And there would have been a lot of noise-"

"Oh please, you had a company to run during the day. It wasn't loud enough to hear from another building, not for you anyway," he sneered.

Bulma folded her arms and turned her back to him, eyeing the ship.

"So what do you need?" she asked.

"Food, water… the basics," he said.

Videl stepped up to him.

"Uhh, Vegeta?"

He didn't respond and she continued undeterred.

"While you're up there," she said, emotionless, as if everything was finally taking its toll on her, "do you think you could look for Pan too?"

"Whatever," he said.

"Thanks.

--

Woah, Pan thought.

Through the round window of their small spacecraft she saw what Totan had been bragging about: a huge ship, at least three times the size of Capsule Corp., that resembled a model city. There was movement outside on the pads that Pan assumed were for launches and landings – those aliens could breathe in space, she realized. Several rectangular "towers" sprouted from up from the ship and dozens of windows lined the outer hull. If she looked close enough, she could see shapes moving through the windows.

"Having any doubts?" Totan asked.

"No," she said, shaking her head.

Really though, she was having second thoughts about this decision and had been since they left that bar (if it could be called that) on Travlaka. She was incredibly nervous – so much so that she had stuffed her hands into her pockets to keep them from shaking. If she didn't like this then she had no where to go. They would never be able to find Dumu and she didn't dare consider going back to Earth. What if there wasn't a job for her? Totan said that there were others scouting for new recruits so all of the openings could have already been filled.

Their ship docked on one of the flat platforms; another alien came aboard to maneuver it into the hangar. Totan asked if Lord Rhoune had returned yet and the man – or whatever it was – said no.

"Are you hungry? Need to use the waste facilities?"

"Waste facilities?" Pan repeated. She didn't have anything to throw away.

"You know, before you spill your bladder," he said.

"Oh. Uhh, no."

"Then I'll take you to your quarters to rest. Follow me," he said, waving his tail.

Inside, the ship seemed even bigger; the halls, covered with green carpet, were wide and branched off into countless other corridors and rooms. It was chilly too.

"Lord Rhoune should be returning shortly. You'll like her," Totan said, looking over his shoulder to smile at her.

Her? That surprised Pan a bit.

"Someone will come to get you," he continued, "but it won't be me. I have other duties to attend to."

"Oh, what else do you do?" she asked, for the sake of polite conversation.

"A little of everything, really."

They stopped at one of the gray doors (oddly, it didn't reflect the light) along the corridor and Totan flipped up the panel in the center of it. He explained that it was voice and password activated. Pan stared at it, trying to think of a password. Finally, she bent down and said her word: "Saiyajin". The door slid open for her and she looked to Totan, whose mouth was hanging open. He shut it, ushered her into the room, knocked on the wall to turn on the light and left.

The door closed when Pan had walked far enough into the room. There was a mattress shoved against the far wall: no sheets, no pillow, not even a headboard. She dragged it out of the corner and collapsed onto it, wondering if Totan knew about the Saiyajin race, trying to imagine what Rhoune looked like and then she wondered how much her mother hated her for getting Papa killed.

--

Piccolo had been transferred into a cell on a new, much more impressive ship. Not only did this new cell still bounce back ki beams, but he could no longer feel anyone onboard.

He was trapped in complete darkness and, frustrated, he punched the wall… and it hurt. Then he realized how weak he felt; it made him weary. He blamed it on the thick air and lack of proper meditation.

The door clicked and was roughly thrown open. Shoruum stormed in, grabbed him by his gi collar and smacked something against his neck before his normally fast reflexes could stop him. The thing automatically snapped shut. Piccolo's hands went to the collar, smooth and warm, and couldn't pull it off. The gorilla-like being grinned meanly. Piccolo began to power up, intending to shatter the item. And he couldn't. His eyes went wide. He couldn't feel his ki! He delved frantically to the place where he had always – since the day of his birth – been able to find his ki, and it wasn't there.

"What did you do?" Piccolo demanded.

"Blocked your ki," Shoruum rumbled. "You had a pathetic power level anyway."

You have no idea, Piccolo thought. His hands went back to the collar and he tried to find the line where it clasped, but there seemed to be none. He tried digging his nails into it – several of them broke at the tips.

"You unuck, it's a Block. The only fuck who can take it off is the one that put it on. Now come on," he said and dragged him out of the cell.

Piccolo walked ahead of him, constantly pushed from behind and told to move faster. Without his ki he couldn't escape. He expanded his senses to see if he could still feel anything, but it took ki to be able to feel it. Surprisingly, he found that he could sense Shoruum behind him, however faintly. That bothered him. What else couldn't he do without ki?

A lot, he realized.

They walked for about ten minutes, from the end of the ship (assuming that the cellblock was at the end) to the front where they came to a pair of handleless doors, each with identical designs etched into them: lines that curved like waves in a storm. Shoruum held Piccolo's arm by the crook as he bent down to what looked like an intercom and rumbled that he had brought the prisoner. The doors slid open and they walked in. The doors smacked shut behind them.

Shoruum shoved him forward into the center of the large, unadorned room. Piccolo noticed an open doorway that led into another room; there was Saiyajin armor was tucked into a corner with a scouter and a pair of gloves next to it.

A large blue-gray throne, a simple yet imposing object, had its back to him. It swiveled around leisurely, moving with a black boot pushing along the ground. A greenish-yellow being finally paused in front of him, its pink hair twisted and piled atop the head, a tattoo on its left check and a silver circlet around its wrist. Its swirled, inhuman green eyes bore into him. Piccolo glared at the figure who he perceived to be Lord Rhoune, showing off the slightest hints of his fangs. She stood: small, flat chested and masculine. Her green cape dragged on the floor.

"Excuse yourself, Shoruum," she said.

He looked as if he wanted to say something, but changed his mind. He bowed and left.

"Would you like to sit down?"

She gestured toward her throne and he refused.

"Very well," Rhoune said, "I understand you're from Namek."

Piccolo knew the answer that she expected and thought he almost could have grinned.

"No."

Rhoune stared at him, seemingly not surprised.

"Then where are you from?" she asked.

"A planet," he answered. For some reason he didn't want to tell her.

She sighed. Piccolo felt her ki and, though it seemed distant, he could read it. How could someone so weak command an empire?

"Forgive me for not introducing myself. I am Lord Rhoune," she dipped her head slightly in greeting.

"Piccolo."

"Are you familiar with Lord Frieza?" she inquired. She wasn't polite, but she was proper.

Piccolo crossed his arms and growled, "Never heard of him."

"Then you really aren't any use to me. Not for information, anyway, " she rubbed at the circlet around her wrist, "but you look like you'd be good for a battle. Are you strong?"

He grinned. Stronger than you, he thought, but held back the comment.

"No, nevermind. I've been meaning to test out this Block you're wearing."

Rhoune approached him. He could have crushed her – if he didn't have this damned collar on. She lifted a hand to touch the collar, smiling unkindly. He pulled away from her, her fingertips brushing his skin instead.

"Feisty," she said. "Now, I'm sure you know what this device does, but I've been wondering about something. I think that these Blocks could be used to kill, but we've only had this technology for a couple of months and I haven't had a chance to test my theory yet. See, I believe that it can bring one's power level down to nothing. Power and life force – sucked away."

And she wanted to test her theory on him, Piccolo deduced.

Rhoune again began rubbing at her wrist, saying that it was bothersome and so undid her bracelet. A flood of sudden power made his eyes widen just slightly; she kept a Block on herself. She went back to her chair, lifted the armrest and said:

"Shoruum, I'm sending the prisoner out. Take him back to his cell." She looked up at Piccolo and said, "Well? Go."

Piccolo leered at her and then turned to the door.

"Hmph. Silly Namek," a voice rasped – it wasn't Rhoune.


He whirled around. Rhoune had disappeared from her chair and there was instead something standing in front of it. He didn't recognize the form, but instinctively he knew who it was. The gleaming, purple head, the black horns and that smile… It was Frieza. Piccolo fell into an attack stance. Then he realized his mistake – he said that he had never heard of Frieza before. Then his small, first form figure transformed into Rhoune. Piccolo gawked.

"You know something, Piccolo," she accused, "and that is why I keep you alive. We will talk again another time. Perhaps even make a deal. But now you need to go, Shoruum is waiting outside."

Piccolo made for the door, which slid open for him. He was immediately grabbed him by the arm and jerked away, glaring down at the floor in thought. What was she? And, more importantly, how would he stay alive? Tell her what she wanted to know… whatever that was. The idea was unappealing. Just the thought made him feel like he was betraying something. He just didn't know what.


A/N – Now there's a nice twist for ya – Rhoune's a shapeshifter! :P Remember folks, review, review, review. Otherwise I get discourage. L

And thanks again to Steve for beta'ing this chapter for me!

Planned Update – 5/20