Disclaimer and Warnings still stand from previous chapters.
Author's Notes: I'm going to take some liberties with power levels. It's necessary for survival issues. Son Gohan here is Goku's adoptive grandfather, not Goku's son. If you don't know who I'm talking about, see the original Dragonbll.
Oh, and for those who are looking at my weird combinations of Japanese and English sub/dub/manga spelling of names and such and going "What?", the explaination is that I go with the spelling I like the most.
Please enjoy, and review. If you hate it, well, you can review too, but flames will be used to to roast marshmellows
Chapter 4: Allies?
Bulma wasn't sure whether she should be happy or not. Hours and hours of work had finally come through; she had a functioning prototype of the holo-scouter. It needed some field testing, just to clear up any unknown bugs, but aside from that it was ready to go. Her "superiors" would be pleased with the progress no doubt.
She had the same sense of satisfaction she always got from a finished project, however it was tempered by the knowledge it would be used by the monsters who had turned her people into slaves.
Sparing a glance towards the bored-looking guard - a female named Kabaji who had replaced Radditsu hours before - the blue-haired genius wondered if it would be possible to hide her achievement. Not likely, and definitely not for long, but it's worth a try.
The young woman got up abruptly, glaring at the scouter, "Fine, damn you! Don't work!" She shoved it into a self-locking drawer and stomped over to her guard.
"It's supper time, I can't do anything with that piece of shit while I'm hungry."
The surprised guard blinked at her, then grunted acceptance. Bulma barely bit back a smile, she had been counting on the typical Saiya-jin appetite to kick in at the mention of food.
She trailed behind Kabaji on the way to the cafeteria designated to scientists working in the Palace. Thoughts about how to keep her progress with the holo-scouter secret filled her head as they walked. Bulma took no notice of her surroundings, nor did she notice that Kabaji had come to a halt until she knocked into her back.
Startled she looked up about to say something sharp when she noticed the man in front of them.
He was by far the sexiest thing she had ever seen. A bit on the short side, he made up for that with a presence that demanded awe and respect. An angled face spoke of a regal background and his ripped training uniform did nothing to hide toned muscle. Black hair jutted up like flame, the light bringing out red tones against the black. But by far it was the eyes that caught Bulma's attention, a deep black that drew her in even as the coldness in them warned her away.
Whoever this guy was, he was absolutely the most perfect yet lethal thing Bulma had ever seen.
"Kabaji, go," his voice held no room for argument.
Bulma didn't hear the response, she was too caught up in the picture of Saiya-jin masculinity before her. However she did notice that Kabaji left, leaving her alone with this hunk who exuded danger.
He met her gaze and smirked.
Zarbon decided he distinctly hated Lady Rettisu. Not that anything she had said or done was particularly offensive, in fact she was the epitome of polite submissiveness. No, it was something in her eyes that set him off. Something greedy and power-hungry that reminded Zarbon of so many of the petty tyrants Lord Frezia so often indulged.
It was not his place to judge Lord Frezia, of course. However, he had little stomach for the type of games the Ice-jin liked to play. And that was exactly what all of this was to Lord Frezia: a game. Something to entertain himself with outside of his planet purging, empire building, dungeons and torture-chambers.
When it came down to it, Lady Rettisu was here in Zarbon's chambers for the same reason that planet Vegeta and its population of Saiya-jins still existed. It amused Lord Frezia. Nothing more and nothing less.
"Ambassador Zarbon, this is truly thrilling news. This is a time of great challenges and great changes. Lord Frezia's support and guidance is of the upmost importance to myself and to the Saiya-jins as a whole."
"True, Senator. Our Lord Frezia is certainly an incredible leader, now and in the future."
Zarbon watched Lady Rettisu's expression closely. The problem with those who wanted power was that they were never satisfied with what they received. Of course, the wizened old senator wasn't so foolish as to challenge Frezia. However, it payed to be cautious.
"My dear lady, I entrust that you shall inform me of any plans or progress as this . . . venture proceeds?"
"I wouldn't dream of doing otherwise, Ambassador."
"I don't doubt. I shall see you at the senate meeting tomorrow then, Lady Rettisu, unless something comes up between now and then. Have a good evening."
"You as well," she murmured on a bow.
Zarbon scowled at the door which she had retreated through.
I really hate that woman.
On Earth . . . .
Piccolo looked around at the gathering of Earth's potential saviours. They were pathetic, a bunch of useless humans cowering in a cave. He wasn't even sure why he was putting up with their hopeful chattering.
They had been introduced by the bald-headed Kuririn. Most were god-like fighters by normal human terms, but by Piccolo's terms they were nothing. Except . . .
Except a few of them were half interesting.
There was the giant sitting on the floor for instance, wearing a helmet with horns sticking out from it. He wasn't exactly the brightest, but this one was trained relatively well. Supposedly one of Kame-sen'in's students years ago, he had been introduced as Gyu-Mao. The Ox King.
An old man stood at the front of the group, a midget compared to Gyu-Mao. He was stooped over and wearing a Chinese-style outfit. To look at him a normal person would not think much of him. Piccolo was not a normal person. He could feel the power level of this old man, and while it was nowhere near his own, it was impressive. This one was a Son Gohan, another trained by the Turtle Master.
In the corner Tenshinhan, called Tien mostly, leaned against the wall of the cave with his arms crossed. His three-eyed-gaze watched the entrance like a hawk. He was far stronger than either Gyu-Mao or Son Gohan. This one would make a decent sparing partner, with some training.
There were others hardly worth noticing in terms of power but interesting nonetheless. A Mr. Satan who was loud and obnoxious but no where near the level of the company he kept. A native child who had lost his father in the fighting, a small thing called Upa. Piccolo unwillingly found himself thinking the child was cute. A short but fat man called Yajirobi, who had some skill but no will to use it. And a cat with bad injuries who leaned heavily on his walking stick, a former martial arts master called Korin.
Then there was Kuririn. Piccolo eyed the short, bald-headed young man who was busily explaining his discovery. He wasn't quite as strong as Tien, but held considerably more potential.
"Well, how about it Piccolo?" the teen asked, excitement in his voice.
"What?"
"Will you join us and help us hunt for the Dragonballs?"
Piccolo took one last look around at the strange assortment of people. There must be something in the air here.
The demon nodded.
"For now."
On Vegeta . . . .
Kyukamubaa - Kyu for short - sat in the darkest, dingiest corner of The Deadman's Haven. Growling to himself he surveyed the crowd with distaste.
There was no one who was not welcomed at The Deadman's Haven, elite or slave you could sit down and have a drink. Not that this acceptance from the owner necessarily stemmed over to his customers, but anyone who picked a fight here would find themselves kicked out on a permanent basis. And since they had the best beer on the planet there were few who were willing to do so.
Kyu was a man who liked to pick fights, when he knew he would win, but he liked the drinks here more. So he restrained himself. Instead he nursed his fifth drink much the same as he nursed his ego.
It was a fluke. That little shit caught me off guard is all.
"Waitress!! Get me another!" he bellowed holding up his almost empty glass. He ignored her reply, knowing the pretty little thing with purple hair and huge eyes would do it.
She was the same race as the slut who had antagonized him earlier, he noted with a sneer. The bitch who'd gotten in a punch that had actually bruised his face. He had just been about to pay her back for that when the street-rat had shown up to save her.
"They're dead. The both of them. That whore ChiChi and the brat who got in my way," he muttered to himself as the waitress handed him his drink.
Lunch moved away from the dirty Saiya-jin in the corner. She could have sworn she'd just heard him muttering about her friend ChiChi.
"Oh, my," she murmured just as one of the other waitress brushed past the counter raising dust.
"Ach-chooo!"
Chaos took over in The Deadman's Haven.