Echoes
Chapter 68: Reunions
Alternative Title: Honey, I Swapped Bodies with a Grotesque Purple Alien
A/N: Longtime readers may notice a familiar scene in this chapter. To be clear, this scene is not familiar; it is an exact scene from Chapter 59 with only the lightest extra detailing. I decided to move it here, along with everything else happening in that storyline, to make clear where things last were with our two unfavored Saiyans and not spread things out over ten or so chapters. Enjoy!
The land around them, dusty and grey, was creased and parched of all life. Nappa, as was his way, viewed it with a scowl.
'Bodies.' He swept his gaze over the crater, then to the hill to his right. 'Just bodies here, Vegeta.'
'And just dust here,' a voice replied. A moment later, Vegeta appeared on the top of that hill. 'Any clues?'
Nappa moved his attention back to the bodies. 'These PTO corpses seem more recent. Haven't been dead for more than a few days. And yet…'
'And yet?'
'They're withering away,' Nappa said. He balanced his foot on a bloating, yellow-green soldier's chestplate, and with the lightest force, crumpled the entire body inwards and shot out dirt and dust out of its armor's sides. 'They're much, much weaker than they should be. And even years-old corpses don't just vanish from pressure. There's something else going on here.'
Vegeta grunted. Sideways, he slid down the side of the dusty, lifeless hill. The whole planet was like this hill- it was all dirt, or dust, without a shred of life anywhere. No lifeforms, no vegetation… nothing. Even stranger, he and Nappa kept finding wholly untouched cities and villages… as if the people of this planet had simply disappeared without a fight.
'These are like the other PTO corpses we found earlier.' Vegeta asked as he crouched down to inspect one particular body. His hand cupped the side of one soldier's head before pressing its bleached from into a cloud of dust. 'No scouters.'
'Bet someone's been destroying them,' Nappa surmised, 'probably targeting them before or during the fights.' He nudged an empty white boot a few inches across the ground before slamming it into the distance with the side of his foot. 'So we know that whoever's come through this planet knows the PTO.'
Vegeta wiped his white-gloved handed clean of dust and smirked. 'He's trying to hide from us,' he said, standing.
'The dead man?' Nappa asked.
'Who else would have attacked these soldiers?' Vegeta contended.
'Someone I didn't see die, Vegeta,' Nappa rumbled. 'The dead don't affect this world once they're dead- that's the whole point of them being dead.'
Vegeta, statue-like, turned to face his companion, 'You sound unconvinced, Nappa.'
Briefly, Nappa held his gaze on Vegeta, then glowered at the ground. 'I think-'
'I do not ask you to believe or think the same as me, Nappa,' Vegeta interrupted him, 'but I do require that you follow my orders. Do you understand?'
Nappa's nostrils flared. 'I've understood that since the day you were born, Prince Vegeta.'
'Then we have nothing further to discuss,' Vegeta said, turning away from him. After trudging back up the hill, Vegeta looked down again on Nappa. 'I am going to draw him and any of his cronies out of whatever hole they're hiding in. You, in the meanwhile, will stay here and hide,' he commanded. In the same motion, he used one arm to beat his cape back and forth behind him. 'When the best opportunity arises, strike.'
'Yeah?' Nappa growled, curling his hands into fists. 'And what will you be doing?'
Vegeta smiled. Without any warning, he blasted into the sky.
0o0o0
Yawning, Tien ambled into the cockpit. 'Are we- auuuuhh- are we, uh, close… oh.' Halfway through his question, he had noticed the looming blue and green orb filling the cockpit's viewport. 'We're close,' he said, answering himself.
The chair to his right- in the chair to his left, Bulma sat, piloting the ship- swung to him. 'You just wake up?' Yamcha asked.
'Pretty much,' Tien replied. 'Are we going to have the same type of crowd that saw us off?'
'They said they'd meet us at Capsule Corp.' Yamcha grinned. 'Going to be quite a crowd.'
'I hate crowds.'
The new voice startled Tien. He looked over his left shoulder and saw Piccolo, arms folded, leaning against a wall.
'Is everyone on this ship in this room?' Tien asked, audibly annoyed.
'No,' Piccolo said brusquely, before swinging around and walking out of the cockpit. The door hissed closed louder than usual behind him.
Yamcha leaned back in his chair. 'To add to that-'
'Whatever,' Tien said quickly.
'-Krillin's too busy stewing in the back,' Yamcha finished.
'He's nervous?'
'Wouldn't you be if you had a partner and looked like a parody of the person she fell in love with ?'
Tien's mouth wriggled. 'You know- that seems oddly specific.'
'We're landing,' Bulma broke into their conversation. 'Both of you find a seat and buckle yourselves in. As I'm sure you know, I've only landed this thing once before.'
0o0o0
For everyone on the ground, this space-centered event turned out much more pleasant than the last one; instead of mourning while being thrown off their feet by a ship launch, they were jubilant and held their ground as the white, flat, and pointed shuttle came to rest amidst the Capsule Corp. gardens. The landing was so smooth, in fact, that not a single flower or branch had so much as swayed while the ship touched down. They didn't know whether to credit this to the pilot or to the ship, though no one would and never did mention their uncertainty to Bulma.
As the shuttle's ramp cranked down to the ground, Launch, Chiaotzu, Suno, Retu, Yajirobe, Rayne, and Chi-Chi (with her toddler, Gohan, bouncing in her arms), in addition to Dr. and Mrs. Briefs, waited eagerly to cheer the first person to emerge. Someone had even brought a banner with a crudely painted blue-and-green Earth on it.
A shape appeared at the top of the ramp. The banner rushed back and forth in the air… briefly.
'Seriously?' Rayne muttered under her breath.
Acting like an alien stepping onto the Earth for the first time, Piccolo strode down the ramp and alternated between squinting at the sun and the gathered crowd. 'So… you're all still here,' he mumbled under his breath.
'What?' Launch shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth. 'What'd you say?'
'Where are the others?' Chi-Chi asked from her side.
Piccolo squinted at her. 'Behind me.' Then he lifted into the sky and flew off.
Launch watched him go between her fingers. 'Bastard.'
'Oh!'
Scratching at her ragged clothes, Bulma scrambled down the ramp. 'Hey!' she yelled, scanning the faces turning towards her. 'Nice to see you all! There are a few things that need to be done before- is that a banner?'
Towards the back, Suno and Yajirobe pulled the fabric up onto their shoulders. 'It is!' Suno said.
Bulma studied it. 'It's… interesting.'
'Good interesting or bad interesting?'
'...'
Suno threw her half of the banner onto Yajirobe, draping the samurai and causing him to trip onto the ground. 'I didn't make it,' Suno said hastily.
A few people looked ready to dispute this, but Bulma cut them off. 'What I was saying before- I and everyone else on the ship need to do a few things before we debrief.' She transitioned from the ramp to solid ground without losing a beat. 'So, while I appreciate you all gathering like this, I'd appreciate it even more if you also make your way inside the main building.' She shot a look at her father. 'You prepared the conference room, right?'
Dr. Briefs, smiling, adjusted his glasses. 'I did, dear.'
'Why are you all out here, then?'
'They wanted to welcome you all upon arrival, sweetie. I didn't see the harm in letting them do that.'
'Speaking of-'Launch stepped to her right and looked over Bulma's shoulders. 'Where is everyone else?' she asked, audibly curious. 'Are they hiding back there?'
'They're not hurt, are they?' Rayne asked, pinching her face.
'Well,' Suno drawled, 'considering-'
With a raise of her hands, Bulma silenced the growing conversation. She looked similar to how Piccolo looked a few minutes beforehand. 'We can talk about everything later. But, first, I'm going to take a four-minute shower.'
'Four minutes?' Chiaotzu repeated. 'Exactly?'
Bulma had started striding through and past them- towards the Capsule Corp. building- before he had even asked his question. 'Yes, four,' she answered, 'because in five minutes, two prisoners are going to land on this planet, and we- myself and everyone on the ship- need to be prepared for that. So, if you would!...'
She succeeded in piercing and moving past them. She had help- she reeked. 'And, by the way,' she shouted without looking back at them, 'those prisoners? They're going to land exactly where you're all standing, so…'
Whatever else Bulma was going to say was drowned out by the sudden sound of people quickly falling in line behind her.
0o0o0
A few minutes after everyone had cleared from the gardens, Tien and Yamcha lumbered out of the ship. They, like Piccolo, squinted at their surroundings.
'I'm not used to this light,' Tien said from within the shade created by his left hand. 'Can't tell if it's because of the light on Namek, the ship, or both.'
'That's what you're focusing on?' Yamcha said, shading himself in a manner similar to Tien. 'We blasted ourselves into space and came back.' His eyes, adjusting to the light, could make out more and more of the familiar colors of the gardens around them. 'That's… I can't really think of anything else right now. We're home.'
'I'll say the same when I get back to my mountain,' Tien grumbled. 'I never liked cities.'
'You're an odd egg.'
'I enjoy my privacy.'
'Are they gone?' a voice asked from inside the ship.
Yamcha glanced at Tien, then hooked his head over his shoulder. 'The coast is clear.'
They both turned in time to see Krillin, moving tentative enough to appear injured, step out from the ship's darkness into the day's light. He immediately frowned and took a step back.
Tien crossed his arms. 'You can't hide from them forever, you know,' he said.
'Nor is it a good idea,' Yamcha added. 'People are going to notice that you're not around.'
'I just need some time,' Krillin said from the darkness. His voice sounded hollow.. 'I'm… not ready to meet everyone.'
'You're nervous,' Yamcha said.
'Of course I'm nervous!' Krillin shouted, his tapered black-grey horns glinting amid the dark. 'I have a partner I need to answer to- answer as to why I'm tall, purple, and gross when I used to be short, tan, and… not gross!'
Tien scratched his jaw. 'Are you sure you're not just overthinking things?'
'Neither of you have a partner,' Krillin said quickly. 'Neither of you understand how terrifying it is to tell someone you decided to make a life together with that you've changed… or are different, at least, from the person they committed themselves to.'
'Excuse me?' Yamcha glared at Krillin. 'No partner? What about me and Bulma, then?'
Krillin froze and said nothing. 'I… I didn't mean…'
'I'm sure he didn't mean anything by that, Yamcha,' Tien said, drawing closer to him. 'He was speaking without thinking-'
Yamcha shrugged off Tien's hand. 'No- I want to hear what he was thinking. What was going through your head, Krillin?'
Compelled, Krillin exited the darkness and stepped onto the top of the ramp. His hands were pressed together in front of him. 'Well, I guess… you two have been together for so long. Since we were kids. I thought-' Krillin shook his head, and rushed down the ramp and past Yamcha. 'Nevermind. I'm sorry I said that, Yamcha.'
'What does us being kids have to do with- with this?' Yamcha said pointedly, shaping his hands around his words. 'I don't see-'
A hand definitely clapped down on his shoulder. 'This time,' Tien said, cupping Yamcha by his jaw and turning his gaze forward, 'you actually need to be quiet.'
The three of them saw Bulma, hair dampened from a shower and clothed in a muted orange full-body Capsule Corp. jumpsuit, power walk across the garden towards them. 'Bez is still inside, right?' she asked, breathless, as she joined them on the ramp.
'Waiting as you asked,' Tien answered for them.
'Good…' Bulma studied the off expressions Yamcha and Krillin wore. 'You two are ready to receive some prisoners, right?'
They glanced at each other and nodded. 'Yeah- we are,' Yamcha said.
'Alright then,' Bulma said, turning her back to them. From one of her large side pockets she pulled out a familiar device. 'Hope this works…'
Over the next few seconds they waited, eyes turned to the skies, until the recognizable thrum and rumble of matter pushing through the atmosphere reached their ears. Dots of red appeared and grew, formed larger, more distinct dots- and crashed into the ground only a handful of yards away from them. The impact was so sudden that the ramp dropped a foot down from under them, leaving them all suspended in the air for a split second. Gravity acted on them and Bulma would have fallen on her face if not for Yamcha grabbing her by the back of her clothing.
'Thanks,' she said gratefully, letting him pull her backward until she was balanced again.
Besides the quick impact, Bulma saw the ships had landed exactly how she had wanted them to; they were in a line facing them, they were not submerged, and both were slowly cranking open their hatches. White mist pumped out of them and blanketed the nearby grass.
Exactly as planned… kinda. 'Alright, boys.' she said, smirking as she pulled out from another pocket what appeared to be 2 pairs of shackles. She twisted a knob on the bottom of each one, and two arcing white beams sprung up. 'Hold 'em while I 'cuff em.'
0o0o0
Far above the planet's grey and lifeless surface, above the thin clouds and his lackey below them, Vegeta studied his scouter. There was no doubt in his mind that he was here; the fact that he and Nappa hadn't been confronted yet only confirmed this.
Even now, he hides. What a pathetic excuse for a Saiyan.
His scouter, as it had been since the moment they arrived here, was quiet. And yet he would have left if he truly sought to avoid us. The fact that he hasn't, even when we stationed ourselves in the next system over, is telling. There is something here he desires.
Vegeta, alone amidst the thin, dull grey atmosphere, laughed. He values something. I can work with that.
He took a deep breath and tapped into his power- purple ripples exploded off his body, filling the air around him with pressure and heat. His scouter began to buzz.
Twisting, Vegeta drew his hands back behind him, faced the ground, and began charging his energy. He can't have the planet explode, so...
'SHOW YOURSELF, COWARD!' Vegeta roared, using his ki to push his voice to the planet's surface. 'OR YOU WILL BE DESTROYED ALONGSIDE THIS PLANET! YOUR CHOICE!'
Vegeta very much doubted Turles would hear him. Turles would be a fool, however, if he wasn't hanging on every reading his scouter gave him.
'I KNOW YOU'RE OUT THERE!' Vegeta's purple energy trampled through the sky, pushing through thin, sickly clouds. Enough power filled his hands now to decimate about a third of this planet. He could call on more- but what would be the point? He didn't actually want to destroy this planet. He simply wanted- Aaah… finally.
From below, a familiar person reluctantly rose into the sky. Wild, mangy hair fluttered in the wind created by Vegeta's energy, slapping against the figure's dark, stone-grey skin. His hands were curled into fists.
Once he spotted him, Vegeta let his energy disperse. If things went as they should, he would not need to use force.
'My, my.' the Prince said, putting his hands on his hips. 'So you aren't dead, after all.'
This man- this Saiyan, with his brown tail twitching behind him, seethed with contempt for him. 'You've created a real mess for both of us by coming here,' Turles snarled. 'Though I shouldn't have expected anything different. Leave it to you to ruin a good thing.'
'And what good thing am I ruining, if I may ask?' Vegete said, his voice dripping with bravado. 'Tell me, lower class.'
'And there's your talk of class,' Turles spat. 'You haven't changed at all, have you?'
This irked Vegeta. This irked him enough to dispel his good mood. 'I am not in the mood to entertain my lessers.' He raised an arm and pointed it at Turles. 'You will answer my question- along with any other request I have of you.'
Turles snorted. 'Fat chance. What reason do I have to humor you?'
A change occurred on Vegeta's face- composure returned to him. 'What reason indeed...' he said. 'Very well: I invoke my right as Prince of All Saiyans to demand your fealty.' He lifted his hand, palm facing the sky. 'Bow.'
Turles's features darkened. 'What?'
'Are you deaf?' Vegeta snarled. 'I said bow. Get on your knees and pledge yourself to me.' Vegeta paused. 'As best as you can while in the air. And once you're done with that, you're going to answer a question given to you by your better.'
'You're joking, right?' Turles scrutinized Vegeta's face. 'You're not!' he growled, flinching backward as if struck. 'You- you-'
Inexplicably, Turles began to belt out laughter. 'Hah! Haha! You've come here to beg, then! Hah! HAH! You, "the Prince", begging a "lower class"!'
The Saiyan's laughter filled the thin air around them, buffeting Vegeta like a mighty gust of wind. Despite this, and despite Turles's obvious disdain for what he was doing, he reminded himself to be patient. He had not come here to crush this man's skull into pulp, even if, at the moment, that was all he could think of doing.
Turles took a deep breath, expelling the last of his laughter through his grin.' Sorry, but- been there, done that,' he said, retraining his gaze on Vegeta. 'Didn't like being under you the last time- or did you fail to notice that I "died"?'
The Prince resisted an urge to parry back- something along the lines of "well, who could fault me for missing the death of an ant"- but no; he had not come here to fight… though whether or not Turles would force him to was another matter.
'I do not offer the same arrangement as before,' Vegeta said, keeping his voice even. He half-smiled. 'In fact, I will even tell you something exciting. I have quit the service of Frieza.'
'Quit or ran away?'
'You will not serve under Nappa as before, either' Vegeta said, not rising to Turles's taunt. 'Both of you will serve, equal, under me and me alone. No Frieza- no mission except the one given to you by me. I will be your only superior.'
Turles grunted. 'So Nappa's still kicking, is he? Did he agree to be demoted to my level?'
As Turles finished uttering his question, Vegeta saw a flicker of movement from his face- he scanned the area. Does he think Nappa is hiding in an open sky? 'Nappa agrees to what I dictate,' Vegeta answered. 'And if it serves us that you are brought in equal to him, then that is what will be done.'
'And Raditz? You haven't mentioned him.'
'Raditz died on a mission. It would just be us three.'
'Well,' he said, making a show of thinking, 'before I can answer your offer- I think I'm missing a key detail,' he said, using his hand to cover the lower half of his face. 'What's the point of all this?'
Vegeta arched an eyebrow. '"the point"?'
Turles peeked over his hand at Vegeta. 'I made it my business to get as far away from you as possible. I faked my death and scurried off like a coward just so that I wouldn't have to listen to you and Nappa bark orders at me anymore.' His hand dropped away, revealing a soured mouth. 'What could possibly compel you to find and enlist a dead man?'
Vegeta stared at Turles. 'I wish to challenge Frieza. And I wish to gather every Saiyan possible to do that.'
'What? Why would you want to do that?'
With a smile, Vegeta closed his eyes. 'I have my reasons.'
'Hah!' Now I know you're crazy!'
'So you reject my offer?'
'Of course!' Turles said, straightening. Thick bands of pink energy coalesced in his hands. 'I hated the time I spent with you and Nappa- I hated both of you! I even hated Raditz, even though he was treated just as shit as I was! And that was before I had something better to do than run in front of you two and take the hits!'
Wind blasted away from Turles, whipping across Vegeta's body. 'I'm going to send you crawling back to Frieza!' Turles yelled. 'And, maybe, when you turn up bloody and beaten at his feet, he'll have the good sense to finally strip you of that ridiculous title-'
Before Turles could blink, Vegeta's fist smashed into his face, wrenching his head back against his neck. His black hair brushed back and forth across his stunned face.
Vegeta, his face flaunting his previously disguised anger, leaned away from Turles. 'You've officially exhausted my patience,' he growled. 'Surrender yourself now or I will kill you.'
'You… 'Turles raised a hand to his forehead where Vegeta's blow had landed. His hand probed a mess of blood and bruising. 'You!... You brat!'
Waves of pink energy, strong and tall enough to push away nearby clouds, enveloped Turles. Vegeta, his arms braced against this, was forced back through the air. He didn't need to look at his scouter- He's stronger than I remember! Much stronger...
Amid the storm, Vegeta lowered his shielding arm. Turles, cocooned in runaway energy, showered him with palpable hatred. 'So!' Vegeta said above the din, 'I see that you've made your choice! Good!' the Prince floated further back in the air, and summoned his raging blue aura. 'Considering that you've grown stronger, I can be that much more harsh with your punishment!'
0o0o0
Dr. Briefs, walking while reading a lab report with one hand and sipping on a cup of coffee with his other, very nearly crashed into his daughter when he rounded a hallway corner. His drink was less lucky.
'Dad!' Bulma cried, thrusting out her arms and watching a splash of brown spread across her fresh clothes. 'Watch!-'
She sniffed. 'Is that coffee?' she asked in a quiet voice.
Not too long after, with a cup of her own, father and daughter leaned against a white wall. To their left the door to the conference room where all of Bulma's friends awaited her laid closed. Bulma glanced that way and took a long gulp of her coffee.
'They're your friends, dear,' Dr. Briefs said, finishing his cup and placing it on end table to his right. 'You shouldn't be so stressed.'
'Hmm.' She took another sip. 'And yet I'm stressed.' She peered into her cup. 'Might be the coffee.'
'Just tell truth,' he said, moving to the other side of the hallway to face his daughter head-on. 'Anything less would be coddling them.'
'But how would I go about even saying that?' she said, sighing. 'No one likes to hear that your home may be endangered by alien armadas and conquering armies for the rest of your life. And, yet, to tell the truth, that's what I have to say to them.' She took another sip. 'I have to say something along the lines of, "Hey., sorry, but we're never going to be safe again. We're on a map and a list along with hundreds of other planets condemned for extermination. This problem is never going to go away."'
'You don't know that last part for sure,' Dr. Briefs countered. 'You can never predict the future. If you had told my 20-year-old self that he was going to go on and invent the most revolutionary technology of his lifetime, I would have laughed in your face!'
Bulma smiled at him. 'Boastful much, Dad?'
He smiled back. 'A tad. But my point stands. You don't know if the PTO is always going to be an issue- they could collapse on their own, or forget the Earth exists… they may even be destroyed by someone one day.' He shrugged. 'Who knows. They certainly won't exist forever. Whether or not they'll end in my lifetime or yours is another matter.'
'Mmm…' Bulma, looking lost in thought, took an absent sip of her coffee.
'Just… give them something to do,' Dr. Briefs suggested. 'Or suggest something, at least, so that they don't feel so… helpless.' He pushed himself off the wall and cracked his back. 'Idle hands create busy minds, or so the saying goes.'
'So they feel less helpless…' Bulma muttered to herself. Then, like a light turning on, her face lifted. 'I got something.'
He nodded as she handed him her cup.
'Thanks, Dad.'
0o0o0
The conference room was comfortable enough; a number of metal mess tables, laden with enough variety in food and drinks to remind everyone how much money Capsule Corp. had to throw around, were scattered throughout it. Enough comfort that, when Bulma arrived and ascended the small makeshift platform set up at the room's front, Rayne was able to hear but not listen to what she was saying. She was too lost in her own thoughts… on herself, her soon-to-be baby, and Krillin.
It was only when Launch, in a sudden fit of movement, flipped her table, scattering plates of steaming food and cold drinks into the air, did Rayne snap back to the present.
'An entire army is out there? A galactic government that wants to kill us? WHAT!?'
Bulma, stuck atop her stage, glanced around the room as if she was trying to figure out which exit she had the best chance of beating Launch to. 'It's not as bad as you think!' she said, frantically waving her hands. 'It's… well…' Bulma steeled her face. 'No. I'll be honest. It's pretty bad.'
Launch, her face still red from anger, nonetheless drew back and gave Bulma a cue to go on.
'These people- the PTO- they only care about their bottom line. They invade planets, kill every person they meet, and sell their "work" to the highest bidder. And there's a very good chance that they know where Tien, Yamcha, and I are from- there's a good chance they know of Earth.'
The room fell dead silent. Launch, her face now devoid of anger, sat back down.
'So,' Bulma said, sighing, 'we have our work cut out for us. It's all or nothing from this point on- either we beat the PTO if or when they attack, or the Earth is toast.'
She paused to see if anyone had any questions. She had dumped a lot of new information on them. Accordingly, they all seemed caught up in processing.
'That's the bad news.' Bulma continued, lifting her shoulders and straightening. 'The good news is that we can all do something about it.'
Chi-Chi, who had one hand clenched around the back of Gohan's clothes, restraining the toddler from crawling away from her, looked up from the ground. 'You're serious?' she questioned. 'There's something we can do about… something like that?'
'Yes!' Bulma replied. 'There's a number of things we can do. For one, I have a lot of ideas about how to prepare for a potential event like this- or, at the very least, I can work on some potential countermeasures. A lot of them are purely hypothetical at this stage…' Bulma tapped her chin and looked towards the ceiling, 'but, with enough work, I'm sure I can make the Earth significantly more ready for whatever may come...'
'As for us?' Suno asked. 'You said there were things we could do. That sounds like Bulma-work.'
'Oh- right!' Bulma said, snapping to attention. 'Sorry! Got a little lost… no, what all you can do is… uh… train!'
'Train?' Suno repeated.
'Train!'
'Train!' Launch said, snapping her fingers. 'Of course!' She turned around and surveyed everyone else sitting. 'We train! If Krillin, Tien, Yamcha, and Piccolo were able to beat one PTO army, then everyone in this room could easily beat… 1 and a half! Maybe 2!' She swung back to Bulma. 'They weren't that much stronger than us when they left, and we have a numerical advantage!'
'I'm not sure if you should make this a competition,' Retu said under his breath.
'Why not!' Launch said, swiveling to Retu and startling him in the process. 'If it drives both us and them to get stronger, faster- that's a good thing!' She clenched her hands and fixed a sick grin on her face. 'Tien's going to be running laps around me when I'm done with him…'
'Bulma,' Chiaotzu groaned, 'why did you have to encourage her?'
'It's a good thing!' Bulma replied. 'Get encouraged! Get pumped! We should all be working on what will make the Earth safer!'
Rayne had sat at the table furthest away from Bulma's stage. As it was, when she spoke, she had every person in the room turn in the same direction towards her.
'And that's what the others are doing?' she asked. 'Training?'
'Handling the prisoners, more exactly,' Bulma corrected her.
'They aren't done?'
Bulma looked at her; there was something, briefly, in her eyes. Something like… indecision. 'Almost,' Bulma replied. 'They should be joining us soon.' Something else ran across Bulma's face. 'Oh! I forgot to mention- there's someone else we brought back from space with us-'
'Excuse me,' Rayne said quickly, standing. 'I'm feeling… ill.' Under the gaze of everyone else in the room, she crossed to the room exit behind Bulma, opened the door, walked through it, and slammed it closed behind her.
'Should someone go after her?' Chi-Chi asked once the door came to a stop.
'Give her a minute,' Bulma said. 'Or, actually, give someone else a minute to get to her. Buuuuuuuut,' she said, changing gears, 'in terms of this other person… he's an alien named Bez, and he's purple.'
0o0o0
Not my most graceful exit ever. Rayne felt competing waves of unease and nausea flow through her as she rushed down the hall. She wasn't going anywhere in particular- she wouldn't even know where to find Krillin in a place as big as this- though she did feel the need for fresh air. Vaguely, she searched her memories for how she had gotten from the gardens to the conference room. Okay… flip that order. This seems familiar. Around this corner, and-
Right before she reached that corner, a person swung around from the other direction, blocking her way. He was big… and purple, and veiny, and horned. This person was such an alien sight that Rayne involuntarily stepped back. So... this guy isn't from Earth.
'Sorry,' Rayne said, motioning the same with her hands. 'Didn't mean to cut you off- or vice versa- sorry-' Rayne pressed her hand into her face. 'I'm all scattered. If you could direct me to this building's exit,' she said, looking up at him, 'I'd appreciate... are you okay?'
In the space of a few seconds, this purple alien had gone from imposing to… pitiable. He looked liable to collapse at any moment. 'I'm- I'm sorry,' he croaked, dabbing at his eyes. 'This… oh, I'm sorry…'
'Hey,' Rayne said, reaching out to him and placing her hand on his arm. 'You… you shouldn't cry,' she said, unsure of what to say. 'You're… the person Bulma mentioned, right? The person brought back from space?'
He didn't reply- he stared at her like a sad puppy.
'... Okay... I'll take that as a yes,' Rayne said. 'So- welcome to Earth, then. This place is nice… there's no need to be sad, or-'
'Rayne.'
Her heart thudded painfully in her chest. What? 'I see Bulma told you my name, though, not sure- how or, or why she did-'
'Rayne- it's me.' he stared into her eyes. 'It's Krillin.'
Her hand fell away from his arm. They swapped places; she was staring now.
He looked at her- looked at her abdomen. 'Are… are you pregnant?'
'Krillin?' Rayne said at a whisper.
'Yes!' Krillin said, smiling shakily. 'I'm Krillin,' he put his hands on her shoulders, 'not some stranger-'
Rayne shoved Krillin. Hard. 'You're a liar,' she spat. 'I know who Krillin is- and he isn't some seven-foot-tall purple alien!' You- you leave me alone!' she yelled, wrenching herself out of Krillin's hands and moving past her. The floor and walls became too white- the air became too still. She needed fresh air. She needed-
'Rayne, wait!' Krillin called after her, rounding the corner he had moved through a minute before. His pleas only made her move faster. 'My body- it was taken! I was switched! I'm Krillin! I'm-'
She plowed through the doors at the far end of the hallway. Natural light flooded her image until the doors shut behind her
0o0o0
Stealth was never one of Nappa's strong suits. He was lucky, then, that his opponents were more clueless about clearing an area than he was at maintaining a low profile. Pressed to the side of a hill, he was able to overhear snippets of a conversation from the hill's other side.
'Turles went up there, right?' one voice said.
'Think so,' a second agreed. 'Hard to say where exactly he is now, though- scouter can't read anything in that mess of energy up there.'
'Same for me!' a higher-pitched voice said.
'And for me!' an identical voice said- though Nappa assumed this was a different person speaking.
'We await him to win and return, then, from his fight with Vegeta,' a vaguely robotic-sounding person said.
'Yep,' the first voice said. 'All there's left to do is scan the area and make sure none of Vegeta's lapdogs are around.'
Nappa frowned. Looks like I've reached the extent of my eavesdropping. Well… he raised a single finger in front of him and focused his attention on the land beyond the hill. Time to say hello.
His finger lifted; flame and energy, as if propelled by a furnace, blew over the top of the hill above him.
0o0o0
Turles, now swarmed in pulsating pink energy, had landed the second blow; his fist had crashed through Vegeta's block, slamming flat against the Prince's sternum and sending him flying through the air. Without losing a breath, the deserter quickly appeared in the path of Vegeta's trajectory, pressed the base of his palms together, and aimed a rippling pink bolt of energy at his opponent's back.
'Lancing Shot!' he roared as energy pulled into his hands and exploded out, traveling across the sky like a wayward lightning bolt. Vegeta was struck square in the back, and the resulting explosion generated a massive shockwave of energy.
Turles had to raise his guard against the winds this produced. Can't afford wasting time- especially when Nappa could jump in and try to sucker punch me at any moment. His aura pulsed and pushed away the thickened air around him. Better to finish Vegeta quickly, before- before!-
Lurching, Turles threw himself to the right, narrowly avoiding a spinning blast. The yellow energy scored a deep gash in his side as it screamed past, provoking him to gag and hack. He slammed his left hand, hot with ki, into the wound and seared it closed. 'What- what the hell was that!?'
'The efforts of a capable opponent,' a voice said to him from behind the dissipating remains of his attack. A second later, those remains cleared, revealing Vegeta- his armor singed and crisped but otherwise unharmed- lowering his hands. 'I hope that wasn't supposed to hurt me,' Vegeta taunted, 'because, if it was- well, it tickled.'
'Grrr!' Turles, assuming what was the most natural combat pose for him, shrank and clenched every muscle he had. Vegeta, in response, drew back one arm and one leg, pointed one foot towards Turles, and held out his left arm in front of him as best he could while floating in mid-air.
Above them, a band of clouds passed over the sun then; gloom fell over their part of the sky.
'DIE!' Turles rushed forward, knee held back, and at the last second ignited his aura and flew over Vegeta. The Prince successfully read this and lifted both his arms above him in a cross-block, absorbing the force of Turles downward kick. Turles continued moving and, now upside down, spun and slammed his limbs against him rapid-fire like a pink, spinning motor; Vegeta, for his part, either tanked or guided away every blow.
But Turles's speed increased- Vegeta was pressed harder until a number of blows started to crash unintercepted into his body. Growling, the Prince decided to go on the offensive and grabbed the next limb that reached him.
It was Turles's foot- and Turles's other foot, tipped with ki, slammed into Vegeta's chin, rocking his head back and breaking his grip. With his first genuine opening, Turles flared his aura, zoomed below Vegeta, and rammed both his feet into the small of Vegeta's back. The Prince's body bucked up like a plume of smoke.
Here's my chance! As he zoomed after Vegeta, Turles drew back one arm, throwing as much energy he could muster into it to slam point-blank into his opponent. Even if he's stronger than me- no one can afford to tank an attack like this!
Vegeta's momentum and Turles's pursuit took them higher in the sky- higher than they had gone before. Within a split second of each other, they both broke through the cloud barrier above them.
Something Turles should have remembered- his eyes had adjusted to the gloom below. 'Aack!' He closed his eyes and covered his head with his arm, blinking, bleary-eyed-
He spotted Vegeta's form, now turned around, hovering in the air above him. The light hitting him from behind obscured whatever expression he might have been making.
Squinting, Turles placed his shading arm between him and Vegeta, and swung his other arm, energy crackling, up to the sky.
'Too slow!' Vegeta shouted as he swung his elbow down through Turles's block and into his face. Blood shot out from his mouth and nose as Vegeta's limb gouged him, breaking most of the bones it hit on its way down. By the time the elbow lifted away from his head, Vegeta's other hand was cocked parallel to his chest, and was filled with blue, rippling energy. 'You were always a second-class warrior,' Vegeta said. 'No amount of strength will change that.'
Those words rang through Turles's head as the blast leaped from Vegete's hand and slammed into him, exploded, and rocketed him away.
0o0o0
Nappa waited until the flames and heat had died down before vaulting over the hill. He was greeted by his handwork; glassed dirt, broken earth, and burnt flesh. And… metallic burning? He spied a mass of melted metal to his right. So one of them was some type of robot after all…
A quick scan of the area revealed the unmitigated devastation his attack had wrought on unsuspecting sheep- including the metal heap, he counted four mangled and outright corpses. Miraculously, however, one body still heaved with the burden of breathing. Nappa strode over.
'You… you bastard,' the one who had survived said once Nappa appeared over him. He looked to have been colored light-orange, with armor similar to Nappa's own, before the attack had charred most of his body black-red. The smell of burnt hair and flesh surrounded him. 'You'll pay for this… Turles will make sure of that.'
'Your boss has enough problems of his own at the moment to worry about you,' Nappa gloated, placing his foot on the man's neck. 'As for you… 'fraid you're going to die here.'
His victim coughed and sputtered, but succeeded in finding his voice again. 'One day-one day…' his eyes glossed over. 'One day….'
Nappa frowned. The man beneath his foot stilled. Damn. He had died before he had a chance to crush in his throat.
A sudden impact sounded in the air above him, throwing a massive wave of wind against the ground. Nappa, shielding himself with one arm, spotted a familiar figure shooting across the sky like a runaway comet.
0o0o0
The force of the last blow had scrambled Turles's vision- he was having trouble seeing the ground below as his body hurdled uncontrollably through the air.
Damn it! He had surely grown stronger from the fruit… but, still, he wasn't yet strong enough to challenge Vegeta. Too much of the gap between them remained. Which means- which means!... I'm going to die! I'm going to die!'
Death hadn't been this close to Turles's mind in a long time- not since he was a child, abandoned and alone without anyone to help him, when living demanded that he do nothing else but survive.
He hated the tinge of it; he hated the taste of despair it brought. No… there has to be a way out of this! Somehow, I can get to my ship, and grab-
Sailing through the air and buffeted by wind, Turles's eyes widened a fraction.
The fruit… it's not yet ripe, but, still, even an unripened fruit may give me enough… Yes! That's it!
He shook his vision clear, and invigorated by a plan that enabled him to live out this fight, Turles spun around in the air. In the distance, silhouetted by blue like a racing bullet, Vegeta was charging after him.
I need to distract him long enough to get to the tree and go! Or- Turles throttled his right hand and called on his ki. Pink, crackling energy filled his palm. This'll work! This'll work fine!
Smiling maniacally, Turles aimed the blast towards the ground. There's no point in letting the tree store any more energy if I won't be around to reap it!
He thought he saw Vegeta halt briefly in the air- perhaps he thought he was going to try and blow up the planet. Fool!
Energy shot out from Turles's hand and spun towards the ground. Instead of detonating, his attack drove pierced the surface and continued downward, spitting out dirt and debris to either side of the hole it made.
The entire world seemed to lurch then. Even Vegeta seemed shaken up by this- he was knocked off balance in the air, and came to a stop in the distance.
With glee, Turles watched the ground where his attack had landed; earth and debris rose and sloughed off to all sides, like a giant bubble of energy was rising to the surface. Which, Turles knew, was what was actually happening.
Accompanied by a great and deep droning, a massive tendril, grey-brown and wooden, rose out from the ground, flailing and whipping through the air. One spot on it was white- one spot where the delicate outer later had been blasted away, exposing the pure energy beneath. In a desperate attempt to protect itself, the Tree of Might had ejected its comprised limb from the earth to save the rest of its roots.
Futile. Turles didn't need to watch what happened next. White lines raced out from the punctured point of the root, shaking the massive construct, and exploded the tendril into a storm of white energy. Vegeta, directly above this, braced himself in the distance. The entire landscape was consumed with hellacious energy, and Turles, with his back to it, let the shockwave push him further to his destination.
0o0o0
The blast delivered him to the Tree itself- the massive, world-eating abomination which had delivered so much providence to Turles and his men. My men… Turles frowned as he landed on one of the tree's massive branches. They would have known to get back to the ship once they saw how my fight with Vegeta was going… I'll have to meet them there, then.
First, though, he would need to find the fruit. The tree never produced it in a reliable spot- it appeared seemingly at random on one of its many branches. Turles felt he had become quite good at finding this boon over the past few years, however, and true to his feelings, he found the fruit, white-red and smaller than it should have been, on one of the highest, thinnest branches.
Good enough for an unripened fruit. Turles landed on the branch. It was light enough that his weight swayed it considerably. Time to grab this and race to the ship. With the added energy… I should be able to keep myself ahead of Vegeta.
As he took a step forward, simultaneously checking his scouter to tell him which direction his ship was in, a hand latched onto his left ankle. He hitched forward, stopped, and swung around with a snarl. 'You!?'
Nappa- panting, singed, and evidently exhausted, still nonetheless gripped Turles while the rest of his body laid low to the branch. 'You… aren't…' he breathed, 'getting away… not from me, or-'
'Get off me, you oaf!' Turles roared, swiping his hand at Nappa. His blow hit the old Saiyan's head, stunning him, and he slumped and fell away from Turles's leg. The dark-skinned Saiyan was already turning by then.
Now! The fruit dangled mere feet away. A few steps forward, and with a grab of his hand-
Another presence seized him from behind; this one was much stronger than the last.
'Aaack- ackk!' Gurgling, Turles was forced to his knees as Vegeta, using one arm to crush his prey's neck, guided him to the ground.
'That's it…' Vegeta said with a satisfied smile. 'Be a good knave and fall. I wouldn't want you to suffer more than is required! Which, to be clear, is quite a lot after that little stunt you pulled back there!'
Wordless but not soundless, Turles hung in Vegeta's grip and clutched at his throat. 'P- pech-'
'What?' Vegeta loosened his grip on Turles's neck, allowing only the slightest more air to reach his lungs. 'Speak up!'
'You… you can't,' Turles said, his voice scratchy and thin. 'Please. Leave… leave me be. My men and I… just leave us be…'
Vegeta swung his head back and laughed. 'Hah! That's what you're pleading for! Your way of life! That's what I came here to claim before you threw it away! In no world would you be granted that!'
'And… and…'
Nappa's weak voice reached them- with Turles secured in his grip, Vegeta looked over his shoulder. 'Nappa?'
The old Saiyan, dizzy and struggling to pick himself up from the ground from Turles's last blow, still managed to nod to Vegeta. 'His men… dead,' he said. 'Killed them myself.'
Beneath him, Turles coughed ragged.
'Pity,' Vegeta said, 'A true tragedy. Do you know what this means, Turles?'
The Saiyan below continued to fight for every breath- he was in an entirely different world from Vegeta.
'You're all alone,' Vegeta said, relishing the words as they left his tongue. 'No one and no thing to fight for, and no one fighting for you… so, in other words, you're dead. Dead to the universe, and soon to be dead in the other way.'
Turles breathed.
'Nothing to say to that?' Vegeta prodded. 'Nothing at all? No? Well then-' Vegeta lifted his gaze away from Turles to where they were. 'I hope this place- this tree, to be exact- is as wretched a place to die as I hope it is. Just a dead tree on a dead world, to suit you, a dead man-'
Vegeta's speech stopped unexpectedly. Turles, even with how preoccupied he was with moment-to-moment living, picked up on this.
'Turles,' Vegeta said in a neutral tone, 'what is that?'
The deserter looked up and traced Vegeta's vision. He was looking at the fruit. No… no...
Vegeta tightened his grip again on Turles, compressing his chest. The Saiyan hollered. 'I'm going to ask only once more,' he growled. 'What. Is. That?'
'N-nothing,' Turles choked out. 'Nothing. A fruit.'
'Nothing?' Vegeta said in a dangerous tone, tightening his grip on Turles in the same measure. 'You mean to tell me that the only living thing on this planet aside from us three is nothing? A fruit growing from what appears to be a dead tree? A tree- ah.' Vegeta swung his gaze towards the direction they came from. 'That was a part of this. That massive thing that rose out of the ground- that was a part of this tree, wasn't it?'
Vegeta adjusted his grip on Turles, moving his arms away from his neck towards his chest and arms. 'Nappa and I encountered some strange bodies on our way here. They had decomposed far quicker than they should have. They were… dust.' He looked down at Turles. 'You wouldn't happen to know something about that, would you?'
Turles, staring at the branch he knelt on, remained silent.
'But of course you know something about that!' Vegeta said haughtily. 'You ran here, after all! To this fruit! The only living thing on this planet, grown from a tree that contained a massive quantity of energy- it all makes sense!' He smirked at the back of Turles's head. 'Whatever this thing is, it's been sapping this planet of energy!'
Vegeta's gaze, leading Turles's and Nappa's, moved towards the white-red fruit hanging from the branch. 'I don't think I have to say anything more, actually,' Vegeta said smugly. 'Your mad dash for this speaks volumes. This thing here- this is what you desire.'
'Please,' Turles pleaded. 'This- this isn't fair!' He seemed to thrash not against Vegeta's grip, but against his own body. 'My men and I- we worked so hard for this! Years of effort-'
'And years of effort well spent, in my view,' Vegeta said, laughing, 'to deliver a tribute to your better!'
Turles's eyes widened. 'No- it's not yours!' Turles said, rekindling his anger. 'Do you know how many people I had to kill to get my hands on that?'
'And would you like to add your own life to that count?'
Frustration rose in Turles, mixing and souring his anger. No...
'Nappa- bring the fruit to me,' Vegeta commanded. 'I wish to taste it.'
It hit him then- with his men dead, there was nothing here except them three, this fruit, and a tree that, with his blessing, had drained a civilization to nothing. Here, on this dead planet, he and Nappa were allowed to live in Vegeta's world, and were given the honor to watch him regally ascend… farther and farther away from the likes of us.
Turles looked to Nappa. The old Saiyan had risen and moved to the fruit, and for better or worse, was consumed by what he was doing.
It was bitterness in the truest, most consuming form Turles had ever encountered. Watching as the fruit passed over him, mere inches from his face, and Vegeta's impish mouth bit a chunk out of it- it was the most- he could say nothing. No words. This is death before death.
A rush of power came from Vegeta, spinning Turles and knocking him on his back. The Prince, his aura flickering and sparking wildly, watched with interest as his ki and body accommodated the power of the fruit. Alongside his aura, his muscles burgeoned ever-so-slightly. All from one bite of an unripened fruit...
'My my,' Vegeta said, admiring his newly bulked arms and legs. 'It seems your fortune has changed for the better, Turles.' He trained his eyes- shrewd and cruel- on Turles like a sword closing on his neck. 'I again extend to you my offer. Before you die, whenever you choose that to be, you're going to tell me a great deal about this tree.'
0o0o0
True to Bulma's word, not soon after Rayne had left, Tien and Yamcha had joined them in the conference room- towing behind them a radically changed Krillin. Everyone was first confused, then dismissive, and finally sympathetic- and sad. They couldn't help it- Krillin, for whatever reason, looked incredibly lost in his new body. But they came to terms with this new development as best they could, and offered what support they offer, even if it looked like it would be Krillin's personal burden to bear for however long he was stuck like this. They were informed that one of the prisoners brought to Earth was in Krillin's body. So- who knows? Perhaps this prisoner could and would agree to swap bodies again. Perhaps the dragonballs could right things. For both options, time had to pass, and until then, Krillin was stuck.
They did leave more encouraged about him than when he first presented himself- he did manage to crack a few jokes about his newly gained height by the end.
After this lengthy conversation, people made their way outside. Rayne, judging by her still sitting pose among flowers and trees, had spent some time in the garden by herself. Bulma approached her, as did Tien and Yamcha, and finally Krillin. They assured her that the big, purple, veiny, and horned alien was, in fact, the man she shared a home with. She huffed, cried a little, and finally sighed.
Beyond this, everyone else went as expected- they reunited, swapped stories good, bad, and funny, and eventually decided to go their separate ways to prepare for the existential threat facing Earth. They had no idea when and where the PTO might strike, so they intended to make every day count.
Before everyone left, Bulma made sure to hand out pagers to everyone- pagers that explicitly were only to be used in moments of immediate crisis. Suno asked why she just didn't get everyone's phone numbers, or emails, or, really, do anything else except to give out small, bulky squares to lug around. Bulma pointed out that some people present lived in mountain cabins with no internet, cell reception, or even electricity, so she had to work around that. Speaking on behalf of himself, Tien, and Launch, Chiaotzu awkwardly apologized.
Launch, Tien, Chiaotzu, and Suno left together, bound for their mountain to do some of the training Bulma suggested. Or, really, Launch loudly proclaimed she was going to do that, Suno normally proclaimed the same, and Tien and Chiaotzu frowned at each other.
Chi-Chi, with Gohan tucked under one arm, flew off carrying Yajirobe with her other. She offered to drop him off at Korin's tower on her way back to Fire Mountain- though, truthfully, Korin's tower was in the exact opposite direction that she needed to go- after he said in passing that it had taken him a week to hitchhike to West City. Somehow, Yajirobe still hadn't learned to fly.
Krillin and Rayne, after a long time spent quietly talking to each other, left together for their home in that quaint river valley Rayne had discovered way back when. Neither of them looked particularly happy to return. How it goes, sometimes, Bulma thought.
Which left Yamcha, Bulma, and Retu in the gardens. And Retu very quickly went inside to give them their space.
The two of them stared at the setting sun. It had been a long day. 'So everything was going well before we got there?' Yamcha asked.
'More or less,' Bulma said, leaning on him. 'And the prisoners are doing okay?'
'They're chained and suppressed in your sub-basement.' Yamcha paused. 'That was weird to say out loud.'
'We're in my gardens,' Bulma said, nuzzling into his side. 'You can say whatever you want about my stuff.'
Yamcha narrowed his eyes and glanced at her. 'You're saying our prisoners is "your stuff"?'
'The sub-basement is. And- who knows?' Bulma shrugged. 'If no one else ever visits those two… they'll become mine at a certain point. My responsibility, that is.'
'Not ours?''
'Ours,' Bulma corrected herself. 'If you're okay with that, of course.'
'I'll help out in whatever way you need me.'
'Hmm.' They both watched the red and yellow banding of the sky chase the setting sun. 'It's always been like that, huh? What with you helping me and my schemes- supporting me. Years and years and years now…'
'Years,' Yamcha repeated. '...Years.'
'Years and years,' Bulma said. 'Hard to believe you went from a wannabe bandit to a dragonball fortune hunter.'
'I had a lot of reasons to change,' Yamcha said.
'And I was one of them, of course.'
The sun was halfway set- though it seemed stuck at halfway. 'You think so?' Yamcha said.
'Yeah- you had a crush on me from the beginning, right?'
'I did,' Yamcha agreed in a quiet voice. 'Yeah, I… I did. I remember that now.'
'You're saying you forgot that?'
'No, just- you know...' Yamcha muttered.
'What?'
He gently shrugged her off. 'Nothing. A passing thought.'
'A passing thought I would like to hear.'
'With time,' Yamcha said, watching the sun finally dip below the horizon. 'Let me think about it a bit more.'
'Really? Okay.' Bulma leaned away from Yamcha. 'Well, in the meantime- there's something else you need to do for me.'
'Yeah?'
'Come on,' she said, dragging him inside. 'You smell.'
'And?'
'You need a shower.'
0o0o0
Frieza often used his imagination for ruling; whenever something displeased him or grated him in the slightest, he would imagine what he would do in response. He knew of many ways to cause pain, and had spent most of his life practicing these methods on those who annoyed him. What linked every punishment, however, was that there was always something- some place, some people, or some person- for him to affect. His imagination, for all the good it did for him in any moment, always needed a target.
But before him now, where distant stars slid through a backdrop of utter black, there was nothing. No planet where reports told him it would be, no insurgents for him to burn off of the face of the galaxy, and most important of all- no men of his that had failed him and awaited his kiss of failure. Not a single soldier of his dispatched to the planet that should be here was still alive to be tortured. There were bodies interspersed between the debris scattered around the area- debris his scientists recognized as the remains of the fleet he had granted to Zarbon for his mission. But it wasn't often that he could gain something useful from a corpse.
Of course, he could do whatever he wished to the crew of the ship he had come here on, but Frieza disliked killing his servants when no ready, replenishable source of them was available. Loathe as he was to admit, killing some seemingly unimportant technician now might delay his return to more civilized space by days.
A thought for later. For now...
In truth, Frieza couldn't tell if he was more furious or perplexed by current events. Dodoria was missing, Zarbon was missing- even Captain Ginyu and his men, who had served him loyally and victoriously for decades, had disappeared without a trace.
He could understand if the planet had simply been destroyed- those things happened from time to time in pitched battles- but his scientists assured him that no planetary debris of any kind was present nearby. If there was a planet here, then like the men he had sent to it, it had vanished.
Far too many unknowns for me to make sense of this. Zarbon confirmed to me personally that a planet was here. And, yet, I see nothing. These two facts cannot both be true. What explains this?...
If this mystery remained unresolved, and he returned to PTO space without an explanation for this grievous loss in equipment, ships, and soldiers- it would be an unsightly blemish on his record. Not that he would care, though-
'Lord Frieza?'
Frieza's tail, which had been roaming across the floor behind him, froze. He had been so lost in thought that he hadn't heard someone enter his chambers.
In his regal fashion, Frieza turned and sighed. 'Underling,' he said sharply, eyeing the soldier saluting him, 'surely you are aware of my foul mood. Surely you are aware that the last four grunts who disturbed me today have been vaporized on the very spot you now stand on- or maybe you don't know that, and simply know they are dead because they never returned. My point being is this- what has compelled you to make the exceptionally foolish decision to disturb me?'
The soldier spared a glance at the ashes scattered at her feet. To her credit, she didn't seem as disturbed as the last three who had held her place. 'Sir… ' she said carefully, 'I understand that to come here now would be suicidal… under normal conditions. Something has come up that is not normal, however.'
Frieza tilted his head back. 'Oh? Is that so? Well, you better tell me very quickly as to what you're alluding to.'
'Sir… we're receiving a hail from… your father.'
'Truly?' Frieza's pupils dilated. This is unexpected… and badly timed.
'Yes, sir.'
'Then patch him through to my private viewscreen immediately. And leave me,' Frieza commanded in an icy tone as he turned his back to her, 'now.'
The soldier bowed quickly and backed out of the room while staring at the ground. She must have sprinted as soon as the doors to his private quarters had closed, for Frieza was greeted with his caller as soon as he faced his viewscreen.
Something about the communications technology available to the PTO always either made the person at the other end either more or less intimidating. But with his father- it was so much worse. Features that he knew were purple, white, and black were blandly colored blue, which only served to give him the appearance of one unending apparition, unmoving and unending in his presence in the mind of the person who viewed him. With his imposing black and curved horns, drawn face, and continually amused mouth, he dominated this space, as he did in every other facet of his reality.
Frieza noted that he was sitting in his favorite pose- head tilted and resting in an upturned palm- and awaited, as was custom, for his son to speak first.
'Father,' Frieza said perfunctorily. 'How goes your retirement on Arcosia?'
'Well,' King Cold said, his voice surprisingly buoyant. 'We're well into the sunny season. It's now warm enough outside to take comfortable walks longer than a handful of minutes.' A tiny smile appeared on his face. 'The cold parts of the year always remind me of you when you were younger. Do you remember the times you used to run around in those blistering blizzards and I had to run out, arms flailing, to try and find you in snow as tall as me… what a little rascal you were.'
His father's ability to muse always annoyed him. This man was undoubtedly the strongest creature in the galaxy, and he busied himself with such inane discussion. Frieza knew the reason for his call was incalculably more serious than the present topic. 'Yes, Father, I remember,' Frieza responded dutifully, though somewhat rotely.
'You were so cute then,' he said with a hint of mischief. 'When did you become the brooding young man that you are today?'
'Father,' Frieza groaned, 'please- spare me this conversation. I do not wish to chat so casually about my… childhood,' he said, shuddering.
'Oh?' King Cold's features lifted. 'I apologize. I am growing bored with court comforts. Excuse me if I try to find some amusement in our infrequent chats.'
'You sound like you're going soft, father.'
King Cold laughed; he laughed like a man who had every person around him under his thumb. 'That's the point of retirement!- but think what you will. Just today I impaled a servant for spilling wine on my bedroom carpet. He stained a Manesian wool red- can you believe that?'
'They're prized for their whiteness.'
'That's what I said!' King Cold said, lifting his head and motioning his now empty hand.
Utterly inane. Frieza's tail whacked the floor behind him. Get to the point! I can't stand this!
'Frieza,' King Cold said in a chiding paternal tone, 'I heard that. Did you just whack your tail out of anger?'
'Father!' Frieza hissed. 'Please! Tell me- what is the purpose of this call!?'
'Mhm.' With a slight smile, King Cold closed his eyes. 'Always cutting to the heart of things, both figuratively and literally… very well.' He rested his head in his hand again. 'I understand. Your time is precious and not to be wasted. As it is, I received a special visitor at my estate today. He brought good news- his mission at the edge of the East Quadrant has signed ten more planets to the PTO compact. We can expect our services to be in high demand over the next year.'
Frieza's breath caught in the same instance that his eyes narrowed. He's back?
King Cold looked to someone offscreen to his left. 'Son?'
The object of Frieza's hate- his ire, scorn, and malice- appeared to him. And there, of course, is the reason.
'Hello, brother,' Cooler, King Cold's eldest son, said as he slithered into the projection alongside King Cold. 'It is so nice to see you again.'
A/N: Hope you enjoyed the first chapter of Echoes and Threads of Time! Super excited for what's to come!
power levels:
Vegeta: ~18,000
Turles: ~12,000
Nappa: ~5,000
Crusher Corps: 5,000
Reviews:
Perfect Carnage: Thanks for the gooooooooold
Transformers g1's-Prime: Thank you for the review! There is going to be a wiiiiiidddeeee range of stuff going on with Krillin-Ginyu. Love the idea in concept. Hopefully, it'll come out well in practice. There will also be some discussion about that body-mind-soul discussion at some point.
I'm trying to keep you guessing! What in the story is going to land first ;)
TienFan99: Woah! That's a long review! Thank you! Okay, here we go!
Fixed that! Thank you for pointing that out!
Re-read complete!? Awesome that my story can accommodate that!
Hah- yeah, Oolong was and is one of my less strong characters. As for the Puar/ Oolong points- honestly, you bring up some good points that I was aware before. From my perspective as an author, I felt the need to wrap up their side-plot with the underworld because both of them don't fit in the traditional narrative. They aren't very significant to fights past the early stages of DBZ, and they don't provide the same type of support as a Bulma-type character can. Writing them their own story was my way of relegating them away from the main story, actually, so you're entirely right on it being a sub-plot. They never felt needed in the main story. What I failed to see is that they're not needed in a side-plot either.
On Garlic Jr., I felt like giving the "B" cast of heroes at that time a spotlight (because there's no guarantee that'll remain true in the future!) and also introducing some conversation about the role of Guardian… which, as a segue to Namek and the origins of Piccolo/ Kami, I felt was a good primer/ accompaniment to that. I acknowledge the fight wasn't super significant in the grand scheme of things. I did like giving some contextual history to the world in the way Korin/ Garlic/ Kami did things at the last changing of the Guardian position. It even gave me some ideas for a one-off chapter that I might do at some point.
With all that being said, your review launched me into some thinking as to how to make The Oolong/Puar arc more significant… significantly more significant. I hope what I have planned for them and everyone else will justify their presence in the story- the main story.
Yep, agree and knew about the other stuff. I did not know how to write young teenagers.
Ugh! I retroactively love the King Piccolo fight too. First, woah, this is bad, moment in the fic.
Funny that you mention how you like that turning point in the fic. That's Chapter 44… the exact same chapter I complained about having so many reviews and views at the end of the last chapter. Guess, as an author, I never saw that as super significant because I had the entire arc after that planned out…
Good point on Recoome- I gotta justify why characters are still on this story! Hopefully, my plans for him will meet that criterion.
I loved involving everyone in that first Kakarot fight- probably where I hit peak creativeness in this fic considering I never watched Dragon Ball, hah.
Tien is coooool.
Yeah, Ginyu-Krillin isn't going away anytime soon… or is it? Let's see what's going on next chapter.
For your thoughts:
Read and find out- also yes.
That's another read and find out- and probably.
Thank you for the story!
(And that Kaioken- oh boy, that's another fun thing I can't wait to show you!)
(P. S.- from an editing perspective, are there any chapters you found to be particularly wonky or off-tone? I'm always looking to clean up my earlier stuff)
Smash765: Thank you for the review! Hidden gem?! :O
I agree! My writing has gotten better! Hopefully, we can say the same about the difference between here and Chapter 1 and Chapter 120 or whatever and here! And, also, I'm curious: what do you think is distinctive about my writing style?
No fun when Goku or any one person takes down everyone on their own. The Ginyu Force is a Force, after all- everyone has to do their part to take that plural down.
Yeah, you're right with Krillin and the Kaioken! Compared to canon, he had far less time to learn everything (and he didn't even get to learn the Spirit Bomb) In the end, he had to rely on some tried and true methods to secure the win- a technique of his own creation.
As for that technique- yeah, it helps to shine when it isn't used against one of the bajillion enemies in DBZ that can regenerate! Though… if and when we get to regeneration… I'll have my own twist on it, I think.
Guest (chapter 54): Yeah, somewhere around 15,000 to 18,000. I figure his power level didn't grow much in his adulthood once he became a super-elite. It's not a super consequential difference between those two numbers in his missions, anyway.
mredt: Sacred Ointment? Say more!
Thank you for the review! Glad you like the chapter :)
Cityracer: As always, thank you for the review! Hope my response will do it justice!
Yep- gonna be weird for Krillin from this point on. Stay tuned.
You hit on exactly what I was going for in that Nail/ Piccolo scene- I wanted to frame his desire to give his energy to Nail as similar but dissimilar to when he did it with Yamcha. Back then, he, like everyone else, was facing down a massive threat- they were equally weak against Raditz. Here, though, he had allies that proved time and time again that they fought stronger, smarter, or fiercer than him. That screwed with him- especially with everything going on with Leera. He really gave up in that moment- and Nail's energy helped him get back on his feet.
Techniques are a good way to prove who you are. Get Yamcha to do his wolf-fang-fist thing, Tien to do his solar flare- etc. Hmm… thinking about that happening way down the line…. hmm…
Keep your suspicion up. Lots of backstabbers in this fic.
Yeah- the Namekian dragon balls are a game breaker in some ways, but at least now they don't have Instant Teleportation to get there without a lengthy space trip (if they even knew about Namek, of course). And we both know how badly that can go.
What's your youtube channel? And, yeah- I do feel bad when a week passes without me submitting a chapter. I feel bad for a lot of things that I fail to do because I get lazy with video games or reading the news. Maybe I'll set up a one day- maybe after I get my writing work ethic down pat.
Suno's inclusion was meant to right the wrongs of Akira Toriyama. More specifically, she was a part of my push to include more women fighters in this fic. There's such a dearth of them in canon, and honestly, I think the show suffers a little bit because of it. There are some archetypes that are more easily hit (or worked against) with female heroes/villains, just as same for male heroes/villains. Canon loses some flexibility in expression by largely only have one gender for all its fighters, good and bad. I mean, Toriyama literally forgot Launch existed. He was not super vigilant about every part of his craft.
Also, as a guy, I think it's good for me to practice writing characters of a different gender than me- something I think Toriyama also never really thought about.
Again, thank you for the review! Means a lot to have regular reviewers like you :)
