Continuity

Chapter 96: On the Wings

A/N: I'm humbled by the 500 reviews AND the wild theories going on after chapter 95. You all think too much of me, predicting I have something super time-travel-complex-impressive in mind!


It was utterly quiet in their closet of a jail cell for a few seconds after Turles spoke. Seated across the narrow gap and the small table, Bardock didn't even need to so much as glance at his son to discuss. He would never in his life agree to this.

'We'll pass,' Bardock said.

Below the cotton wrapped messily around his head, Turles seemed surprised. 'Huh? You'll pass?'

'I'm not going to mutiny with you. It's a dumb idea.'

'How?' Turles growled.

'For one, we'd never take the ship. That woman — what's her name — Launch will crush your head under her foot like…' He looked to Kakarot for direction. 'Like uhh… what's something that pops and throws juice everywhere on Earth, son?'

Kakarot frowned. 'A grape?'

'A grape,' Bardock repeated, turning back to Turles. 'She'll crush your head like a grape if you try something like that.'

'She isn't that tough.'

'No, more likely you're an idiot.'

Turles leaned back — as far as their cramped room would allow him, which wasn't much. 'Nope, more like you two are cowards. And to think you two call yourselves Saiyans.'

Bardock snorted. 'Spare us. You're the last Saiyan to be lecturing us on our pride.'

'You sure? Because it seems like you have none.' Turles scowled at them. 'Cowards.'

'Maybe if you thought more with your brain and less with your pride you'd accept we're passengers on this ship, not captains.'

'Cowards,' Turles repeated.

'You're fixing on that, huh?'

'You're fixing on being cowards.'

'Cowards don't throw their lives away for one,' Bardock said. 'Second, they tend to live longer than the stupidly bold.' His eyes made a contemptuous pass of him up-and-down. 'You should know something about that, right?'

Turles stood. 'Kakarot?' His sharp gaze landed on their observer. 'Nothing to say?'

Not once did Kakarot's eyes meet his. 'Unbelievable.' Turles muttered. 'Your father's utterly drummed you to his ways.' Turles jerked to the doorway and triggered it to open with a press of his hand. He stopped halfway out of the room, and threw one last glare at them. 'Remember that when he watches these creatures wrap their chains around you.'

The door ran quiet as it slid shut in his wake. Bardock stared at it sightless for several seconds. 'Gonna be funny when he's dragged in here covered in blood,' he mused, slowly smiling. 'Yep. That'll be a sight to see…'

'Why didn't you stop him?'

Kakarot's question rankled him — his son and his questions — but Bardock pushed aside that feeling. 'Why should I?' He laced his fingers behind his head. 'It's not my ship. He can screw around with it all he wants.'

'It might slow our trip to Earth. Make the humans' lives a little harder.'

'Since when do I care what the Earthlings do or want?' Bardock shut his eyes, relaxing. 'I'm only looking out for us.'

'...It doesn't matter what we want, Dad.'

'Hm?' Bardock opened one eye to his son. 'What'd you say?'

'It doesn't matter what we want. They're taking us to Earth no matter what we do. Question is whether we accept that or let them lead us around forever.'

'The hell you talking about?' And what he'd want him to do, anyway?

0o0o0

Between the four of them Mark spent the most time on the ship feeling confused, lost, or generally unable to affect anything around them. There was no contest in strength between him and everyone else, he didn't know how to fly the ship, and even his morals seemed weak at times. He'd gotten one curt interaction with the Saiyan he'd rescued, Turles, and decided very quickly he probably shouldn't have brought him back to the ship. Despite all that — he felt pretty confident, and solely confident, about what to do next.

'We gotta land!'

His declaration, given with arms crossed and head tipped up, caused Bez, Launch, and Recoome to look back from the front of the cockpit to him. 'How?' Bez asked, unhappy. 'You're going to pilot the ship yourself?'

'We can't stay up here!' Mark continued. 'With that battleship behind us, they'll catch us in orbit and blow us up! Not to mention we need to get down there to prepare everyone else on Earth for when it arrives! We need to land!' Mark said again, slamming his fist into his hand.

'Still can't be done,' Bez said, turning his gloom forward again. Blue-and-green Earth rested among the black of space like a painting. 'Two days spent up here, and no word from Capsule Corp. Nothing.'

'Not encouraging, to say the least,' Launch said, voice far away from what she was thinking. '...really nothing's encouraging right now. Two days and I haven't been able to sense a single person's ki. It's… weird.'

'Worrying,' Bez added.

'Maybe. Can't tell yet.'

'Hmm…' Recoome craned his head above Launch and Bez, getting a view of the Earth with his hair pressed against the cockpit's ceiling. 'Doesn't look bad from here. Green and blue — that's how it's supposed to look, right?'

Launch grunted and placed a hand on her neck and cracked it. 'So we can rule out total planetary destruction.'

'So what? You three want to stay in orbit until we get a signal?' Mark asked. 'How far away is that battleship behind us, anyway?'

'About a week, and we've been stopped here for two days,' Bez said, then sighed. 'I need a signal to land. The ship needs a signal. Reentry is very… delicate. Maybe I could do it without any help from a Capsule Corp. relay, but I don't want to stake all our lives on a maybe.'

'Doesn't the computer have that information?' Mark asked. 'Know how to land?'

Bez shook his head. 'The atmosphere landing program is very extensive, from what I remember. It's too big to store on a ship. Not an issue as the connection between this ship and West City is and was very strong… until it wasn't.'

'Can you see West City from here?' Recoome asked, bumping his head against the ceiling to change his view to the outside.

Bez shook his head. 'We're too far out. And getting any closer could accidentally let gravity start the landing process for us, so…'

Launch grunted as she cracked the last inch of her neck and straightened. 'What I'm hearing is that no one can agree. So I suggest we wait one more day. Could be the Capsule Corp. signal reappears. Could be I might sense someone and don't feel as wary of landing without any knowledge of how things look on the ground.' She looked between them. One more day? Then, a final decision?'

Bez frowned. Recoome shrugged. Mark felt he could have said more, but didn't, and all three nodded. Delaying a decision for just one day was something they could all agree on.

'Good.' Launch cast one more look out the cockpit. 'Well… if nothing else's going on, and I can get some reps in in the gravity chamber…'

'Aren't you still injured?' Bez asked.

'Not really... I can crack my neck again.'

'You couldn't before?'

'I'll give the green goop some credit. It worked.'

The three of them were on the verge of stating their strong disbelief to that when the overhead lights in the cockpit shut off. Red emergency diodes lit up a second later.

'Lost the power, huh?' Launch asked, staring at the ceiling.

The red lights blinked out.

'Emergency too. Ship's failing, I guess.'

Bez slowly stood up. 'Um… that's being done by someone, not something…'

0o0o0

After pulling his hand free of a tangle of wires and copper Turles snarled and angled his head to view behind the backplate. 'Damn.' He tried to see what he had pulled loose in the dark. 'That do anything?' Turles looked around the engine room — or what he thought was the engine room, at least. It was small but it smelt right — acrid and vaguely acidic. Around him the ship hummed just as loudly and brightly as before. 'Damn…' He snuck his right arm back into the wall. 'Maybe… this thick cable, here…'

His fingers found the bundle and yanked. This time there was a definite dip in luminosity from the lights above. 'Hell yeah! Now…' He crouched closer to the ground and slid his entire left arm into the wall, blindly fumbling for something tangible. 'One more…. and maybe…'

'What are you doing?'

His head shot to the right. In the doorway backlit by pulsing red light Bardock scowled at him.

Turles pulled his arm free. 'What does it look like? I'm preparing the mutiny.'

'How?'

'Pulling wires.'

'Which wires?' Bardock slowly stepped into the room. 'Any particular types?'

'Whichever ones I can grab.'

'So they're all up for play? Life support, navigational assist, engine cooling?'

'Whatever I yank, so pretty much.'

Bardock stopped and sighed. 'King Vegeta's beard, you're dumb.'

'I thought you were done with this conversation.'

'No, you were done with it. I was ready to detail your stupidity until we reached Earth.'

'Lost your chance, then.' Turles slowly got to his feet. Between them only the tips of their fingers were tense, twitching. 'This ship's never getting back to Earth.'

'Yeah? Since when?'

'Since… oh, I don't know. Give me ten minutes?'

'Can't do it in five?' Bardock unveiled a mocking grin.

A shakiness bled into Turles' face. 'Watch it.'

'And you call yourself a Saiyan. Too cowardly to attack before cutting the lights and the air —'

'SHUT UP!' Turles snapped, charging forward with all his weight and force behind a ki-wrapped fist. 'You're the last one who can say!-'

His boast caught in his lungs as his punch was flicked up, spun around, and banged against his own tailbone, collected ki expelling harmlessly from that spot like a waft of mist. His other hand quickly followed and landed in the same spot.

'There!' Kakarot shoved Turles to the ground, hands around his wrists and boot planted into his back. 'You did my work for me. Always easiest to subdue someone when they telegraph they're coming from a mile away.'

'You!-' Turles tried to wrench free but Bardock's second hand wrapped around his wrists. pushing them into his back. 'You ass!'

'Up!' With a yank Kakarot got Turles back on his feet again, facing him. 'Can't keep you here, after all.'

'Lousy, miserable old man! You know by doing this you're siding with them, right? Our captors!? You're denying yourself what you want! Freedom! Stopping me means that this ship gets to Earth, and then—'

Bardock zipped forward, his head stopping inches from Turles'. 'Turles,' he said, low enough to be a whisper but not nearly as high-pitched. 'Let's set something straight. There's nothing more I'd like to do than smash your skull in.' Bardock's quiet grunt reached Turles's ears. He drew back and spoke in a more normal voice. 'But unlike you, I can block out whatever my chickenshit brain is telling me to do in the moment. I have bigger goals in mind.'

Turles started thrashing and spitting in his grip. 'Yeah!? Like what!? Enjoying slavery!?'

'Not quite.' Bardock yanked Turles and spun him around. 'Not again.'

As his spin stopped Turles rattled off every curse he knew, mouth near frothing. 'Even if you deny it, you'll serve that little—

'Little?'

Turles next string of curses died on his lips. Lifting his head he saw Launch in the doorway, undeniably amused by what she was watching. When she'd get here!?

'Finish what you were going to say.' Launch encouraged, stacking her arms and showing the outlines of her muscles. 'Little what?'

0o0o0

Hogtied and bruised, Turles was thrown back into the closet cell face-first against the table. Bardock got only a glimpse of his son's surprised but quietly encouraging face before the door slid closed between them.

'So.' Launch pulled away from the door's keypad. 'You want to talk? Person-to-person?'

'Saiyan-to-Earthling, Earthling.'

'Fine by me as long as we speak truthfully to each other.'

'For once, we agree.' Bardock rapped his knuckles against the door. 'So let my son out, and we'll start.'

Launch's eyebrows raised. 'Hm? Why?'

'Why? Because he'll need to hear what I'm going to say as much as you.'

'Fine, whatever.'

'And bring whoever you want, too. Anyone and everyone.'

'Yeah, yeah — let's just get on with this.'

0o0o0

Launch leaned over the common room table, pen tapping, lip curling, as met Bardock's gaze head-on. 'That's it? All of it?'

Bardock dipped his head just an inch. 'Yep.'

'Huh.' She drew back from the table, taking a wide look over the marked papers in front of her. 'Your memory is pretty good.'

'I have a lot of grudges, and all.'

Launch briefly met Kakarot's idling gaze on her rightward turn towards Bez. 'You got all that right?' She tapped the papers. 'I'm not the best note taker.'

'I can see.' Bez held up a tablet. 'Got it all here.'

'Good.' Bardock stretched and locked his fingers behind his head. 'I wouldn't have told all that twice.'

'Even with how interesting it all is?' Launch said, smirking. 'You die and spend twenty years dead, find your dead son, make a deal with a green evil stranger, and get revived? Even to us—'

Launch stopped herself, frowning at Kakarot. 'Well, you know about the Dragonballs, right?'

He gave her a blank stare. 'The whatnows?'

'Nevermind.'

'Dragonballs?' Bardock repeated. 'What are those?'

'Not important, but,' Launch jabbed forward with her pen, 'that's still a crazy story. Leaves some interesting questions on the table, too, you know?'

'What are you getting at?'

'I wonder who that guy you distracted in Hell was before you got revived, for one,' Launch said. She turned in her seat to Bez. 'Guy with black hair and sunglasses sound familiar to you?'

Bardock shook his head, as did Kakarot a second later.

Launch put her pen down and stretched. 'Guess I'll have to ask around when we get back.'

'To Earth, you mean,' Bardock said.

'Yep.'

'And when does that happen? When do we get back?'

Launch looked to Bez for approval. He waved the tablet again and encouraged her to go on. 'Well… we're in orbit now, we're just having issues landing. Nothing we can do about it from here, though, so we wait.'

'Orbit, huh?' Bardock grunted. 'Well, I guess that's better than how we were when you found us. At least the Saiyans or the PTO aren't about to drop in and kill us… or worse.'

For a split second Launch made eye contact with Bez; his gaze this time dissuaded her. 'Right,' she echoed. 'Anyway… you start looking for Raditz in the galaxy, can't find him, and eventually think he's on Earth.'

Bardock made a labored roll of his neck. 'Yeah…' His bravado seemed to deflate. 'Yeah. Sounds like he isn't there too.'

'Probably. Whatever information on Raditz we have, we'll give it when we arrive. But I don't think we'll have any to give, to be honest.' Launch leaned in again. 'You, on the other hand, had some interesting information about those other Saiyans, Vegeta and Nappa.'

'And Turles,' Bardock added. 'He was with them, not us.'

'Oh yeah. Him.' Launch checked the notes in front of her. 'I forgot to ask you two about him. He doesn't talk to us much. All we know is that he looks like a Saiyan and is probably… a Saiyan. Um…' Launch gestured with her hand towards Kakarot. 'Sorta looks like your evil clone.'

Kakarot shrugged. 'Not related, as far as I know. Dad?'

'They're not,' Bardock said authoritatively. 'But he is a Saiyan, unfortunately. A bad one, too.'

Bez scratched his jaw. 'There are bad Saiyans?'

Bardock resisted scowling. 'You think we're all bad, right?'

On and on Bez scratched his jaw.

'Aren't there bad… uh, what was the word…' He turned to Launch. 'Aren't there bad... Earthlings?' Bardock asked.

'Sure, but then what makes Turles bad?'

Bardock's face soured. He remembered all the heartburn Turles had caused him on Planet Vegeta when it was still around. He was a Saiyan without any parents — which usually meant either the kid, the parents, or both were weak, and some combination of family had died. Saiyans could be brutal with each other. He himself had fought off hunters encroaching on his land by breaking a few bones before he'd joined the military. But Turles was a special kind of trouble. He was the type you couldn't punch away. He hung around the wrong people.

'...Turles was a brat a long while ago. He was around the age of one of my sons. They became friends, so I saw too much of him. Turles also constantly got them into trouble. He fought all the time with other Saiyan kids — except he did that by stealing and badmouthing and going any other way that didn't involve throwing a punch.'

'Uh-huh.' Launch glanced back at Bez, then Kakarot. 'Which son… of the two?...'

Bardock paused. 'Raditz.'

'Okay. Anything else?'

'Otherwise he was a grunt. I can beat him in a fight. He's nothing for us to worry about.'

'Good to know.' Launch cleared her throat. She glanced towards Bez again. Once he nodded, she stood. 'That's all we wanted to know right now. Thanks for talking to us.'

'Does this mean we have to go back to that closet?' Bardock asked, suppressing a growl. 'It was cramped with two people.'

'No, you can stay here for now. I trust I don't have to put you back in cuffs?'

Bardock made a mischievous grin as he stretched and locked his fingers behind his head. 'As if they do anything. You know we can bust through them whenever we want.'

'Which would make us unhappy.'

'Then don't slap 'em on us again.'

'...Alright.' Launch traced a finger between them. 'Just… don't go anywhere or touch anything.'

'Got it.'

0o0o0

Several seconds passed before Kakarot was sure he would be unheard and looked from the room's opening to the hallway to his father, the slightest smile on his face.

'Thanks… for talking. For me.'

Bardock hmmphed and crossed his arms as he scanned the room. 'I guess… I guess it's what I owe you, after all this. After… everything I put you through.' Lines met and spread across Bardock's face. 'You know… I never asked you if you were okay with it…' he muttered.

'Okay with what?'

'With coming back.' Bardock gestured broadly. 'Here, to life. I assumed you'd want another crack at living when we made that deal with the demon — but you never actually said you wanted to come back.'

When Kakarot hesitated Bardock's gaze moved away and up, running over the smooth and glossy tiling of the ship. 'I don't know if we'll find Raditz…' he said, 'but know that from the very moment I met you… I've tried to help you. I might not always know what you need help with, or in what way… but I'm always trying, got it? What we have holding us together is thicker than blood.' Bardock pressed his fist to his own chest. '...So…'

'What?' Kakarot asked.

'Um…' Bardock let his fist drop. 'I couldn't think of something that's thicker than blood.' He sighed. 'But, for the sake of it—'

'Respect?'

'I like that. Sounds like honor.'

'Well that's part of it, right?'

'Yeah,' Bardock agreed. 'It is.'

Kakarot turned and held a breath. 'Well, back then...' He exhaled. 'I was just following your lead. Did what you did. I figured you had the right idea of what to do at the time.'

Bardock clamped his mouth shut before he let out a loud laugh. '...That's the first time someone's said that about me. Not one of the miserable bastards who fought under me in my squad… not your brother… not even your mother,' he said, a special wistfulness touching his features. 'Not Gine. Not once.'

'For the record, now I don't think that—'

Bardock laughed this time. 'Of course—'

'—As much.'

They both stopped and stared at each other — studying each other. They were strangers, right? But they were also family. Bardock for perhaps the first time in his life met his son's smile with his own, and placed a hand on his shoulder. 'That's the Saiyan in you.'

'Maybe I shouldn't say this, then.'

'I should have known it'd be a short flare-up.'

Kakarot dropped his smile. 'I'm glad you cooperated with the... Earthlings.'

'Good. Because I'm not going to do it again.'

'You cut a good deal, though. Getting our own ship to leave the planet once we finish searching for Raditz — who knows what you might get if you make another one.'

Bardock pinched his face and laid his head against the wall behind them. 'I don't want anything else they can give. We'll have information on Raditz, mostly and supervised free reign, and a ship to leave on. What else is there to want?'

'When you put it like that… hmm…'

Bardock was vaguely aware that his son was weighing something. More annoying was the fact that he was trying to be subtle about it. He should have known by now that no Saiyan was capable of that.

'Alright,' Bardock sighed. 'Let me try to honor that.'

'Honor what?'

'Being your advocate. Fighting for you. Now that we're alive… what do you want out of life, Kakarot?'

'...I…' Kakarot stared down at his hands loosely intertwined in his lap. 'I don't know.'

'Do you think what you want is on Earth?'

'...'

'Is it your son? That woman?'

'I—'

'You don't have to answer now,' Bardock cut him off — to Kakarot's relief. 'Because right now… we're in orbit, right?' Bardock rubbed his fingers, placed them behind his head, and let his eyelids drop across his eyes. 'Right now… we might as well have all the time in the world…'

0o0o0

Launch and Bez walked through the ship's main curving hallway in silence save for the dim hum of air vents and the occasional beep from a keypad or display that brightened and dimmed as they passed. After the second circuit around, Bez cleared his throat.

'Are you going anywhere in particular?' he asked.

'Not really.' Launch stopped to cursorily examine a blank metal panel. Old memories and new information were swirling and mixing together, smearing across the featureless surface in front of her, making it a mirror. 'Got a place in mind?'

Bez crossed his arms. 'Here?'

'Alright, sure.' Absentmindedly Launch pressed her finger against the panel. 'How much do you know about the dragonballs, again?'

'Not much.'

'Then I'll just say it: what Bardock and Kakarot described, their…' Launch frowned, '...resurrection… is something the dragonballs can do. That demon they mentioned, too? To me, he sounds like a Namekian. Sounds like that… whoever Piccolo told us about,' Launch said, scrunching her face as she tried to recall the name. Karnas? No…

'It would line up, too,' Bez said. 'Pretty much the same time Bardock and Kakarot came to life, Kami had that episode.'

'Yeah. Seems more than circumstantial… you know, it just occurred to me.' Launch leaned one shoulder against the wall. 'We spent so much time trying to figure out the fallout of that day and Kami's coma, and assumed one wish went to the evil dude that kicked everything off… we never wondered what had happened to the second wish. I guess now we know.'

Bez hummed in agreement.

'Although… why would…' Launch's face lifted. 'Katas, that's his name. Why would Katas resurrect Kakarot and Bardock, anyway?'

'That was the deal they made — for them helping to stall for time in Hell.'

'But from how Piccolo described him Katas sounds like not the type to just honor a deal,' Launch said. 'There had to be another angle, another reason to help them… something we can't or haven't seen…'

Bez shrugged. 'Maybe. At least right now we have the time to think about it.'

Launch shifted and placed her back against the wall. For a moment she examined her hands and calloused knuckles, and tried to picture what they'd looked like five years ago. 'You know what really threw me off back there?'

'Threw you off?' Bez asked. 'You were thrown off?'

'Yep.' She half-smiled. 'Me, Launch, I know. Shocking. But… every time Kakarot opened his mouth, I had trouble believing it was him. Speaking calmly and slowly… was the same person who'd killed defenseless people for fun as a kid and made the lives of me and my friends a slow-rolling hell.' She jabbed with her hand, fingers curling out one at a time. 'He killed Master Roshi, broke Yamcha's bones, maimed Retu and tormented us at that World Tournament…' Anger flashed across Launch's face, darkening her skin. 'He even roped Chi-Chi into his twisted and demented existence and permanently stole a little bit of her life… to do what?' Launch grated. 'Kill Krillin and kill his brother once he realized what would happen after they won. The last bit of him that'd remain in his existence once he died — his son, Gohan — would die. The person we talked to today, who spent most of the time in silence and spoke softly if at all — he was responsible for all of that.'

The last echoes of Launch's words — bolstered by her emotion, echoing down the hallway — faded and gave way to the ship's ambiance again. Bez expected another round, judging by Launch's ugly expression and tight posture, but to his surprise she closed her eyes and let out a long, even breath, in and out, through the nose.

'And yet when I look at him I can't reconcile the two Kakarots,' Launch said, opening her eyes. 'Him then, and him now. It's like they're two different people. It doesn't matter how much I try to remind myself of the past. Now, he's just so much more… neutral, I guess would be the word.'

In the back of his mind Bez sensed he wasn't the right person for this conversation; that he was just a stand-in for someone else back on Earth for Launch. That didn't mean he wouldn't try.

'Is that good or bad?' He asked. 'That… change.'

'You think it's a change?' She said. 'That he's changed?'

'From how you described it… Maybe?'

'It's better from before, I guess.' Launch collected her thoughts. 'Him as he is now compared to how he was. It must be his father, right? Whatever influence he has. What else could explain his different… presence?'

'Dying?'

'Maybe,' Launch said. 'I haven't died yet, so when I do, I'll see if anything happens to me.'

Bez ran a hand over his purple neck. 'You speak about it so casually.'

'It's what it is.'

'...You know, it could be something else.'

'Oh yeah? What?'

'It could be that he had this side inside him all along — the side that wasn't trying to kill you and everyone else.'

Launch twisted her neck, glaring at Bez. 'Weird theory. Not sure I like it. That would mean something or someone smothered that side of him in favor of the homicidal maniac we got.'

'And that's unlikely?'

'...'

'...'

'You've made me think,' Launch said in an unamused voice.

'That was the point.'

'...uh huh. Are you saying you think Bardock has… changed him? Changed his path? Both of them?'

'I can't speak for the father,' Bez said, 'but Kakarot? Maybe. I don't know. I think you'd have to ask him yourself.'

'Pass,' Launch said, quickly, grimacing. 'But, uh… to change your entire path like that, it must be...'

Bez waited. 'What?' He asked.

'Nevermind. I can ask you about it another time.' Before he could figure out what that meant, Launch leaned away from the wall to get moving again. 'All this thinking has got me wondering if I'm going along my right path, too.'

'Right path? Launch, compared to Kakarot I don't think—'

'I'm not sure if this path has the most training for me, you know? What if there's another way out there which lets me train twice as long in the gravity chamber?'

'...Hah, hah.' Bez laughed dryly.

'Maybe, if I eat my meals all at once, I can compress my day—'

'Alright, you can stop.'

0o0o0

After fiddling with the height of the pilot seat Mark shifted around and peered over the cockpit control console. Jewel-like the Earth shone among starry space. 'Pretty crazy. Looks pretty far away from here, huh?'

Recoome absentmindedly scratched his nose. 'What does?'

'The Earth.'

'Really?' Recoome stopped scratching and glanced forward. 'Looks pretty close to me.'

'Well, it's different for you.' Mark crossed his arms. 'You've been to space before.'

'Yeah.'

'Went to all these different places… traveled a lot…'

'Yeah… and?'

For a moment they stared at each other. Mark wasn't sure himself what he was getting at. He grunted and shifted in the pilot's seat. 'I guess I'm just eager to get back down.' He was a little homesick, he realized, now that he was so close he could see it. He wanted to get back to the mixed gym/dojo near the waterfront in West City, where the regulars respected him enough to dip their heads but still give it their all in a spar. He'd been going there for how long now — three years, four? He'd arrived there near the top, soon reached it… and not much progressed beyond that.

Wasn't that a betrayal of what he set out to achieve all those years ago? To stay in motion — not stay in place. To reach the top To be… the World's Martial Arts Champion?

If he hadn't been scared off of the idea — if the World Martial Arts Tournament hadn't closed down after what had apparently been a disastrous, life-and-death tournament, then… I don't know...

'Mark?' Recoome asked, scratching his jaw again. 'You okay?'

'Hmm.' Mark closed his eyes. 'Just… thinking.' Maybe this trip — something he was hesitant to go on to begin with — would turn out good for him. Maybe all this time would give him some perspective — make it clear what he wanted to do once he was back on solid ground. Keep working hard, for himself, and…

He pictured his daughter's round, cheery face, black pigtails swinging near her ears. He'd made a promise to her, too. He'd keep working at his dreams, no matter what!

'...Recoome,' Mark said, 'is there anyone you know that you'd put your heart and soul into making happy?'

'Someone like that?...' Recoome's face bent into a thoughtful expression until suddenly bursting into a smile. 'Well, you, bud!' He said, clapping a hand to the back of Mark's seat, rocking.

Mark grimaced as he rode out the wave. 'Right, right…' He turned. 'When we get back, you need to beef me up, Recoome. I need to get… as close in strength and skill to you. As much as possible.'

'Yeah? That'll take a lot of work.'

'Doesn't matter.' Mark summoned some swagger and swung his fist between them. 'I gotta make the attempt, at least!'

'Yeah!' Recoome punched his fists together. 'All you got!'

'Yeah!'

'All day regimen! We'll start at 12 hours and slowly—'

'Wait, what?'

A beeping rung through the cockpit. Both turned to the blue point flashing on a display near the… oh…

'...that's the Nav console.'

Recoome leaned over and squinted. 'Is that?...'

Mark stood, smoothing a hand over his stubble. 'I'll go get the others.'

0o0o0

'Now… just stay behind me, and let me blast the first thing we see.'

'That doesn't seem necessary.'

Launch sidled past Bez towards the ramp's top. 'It's entirely reasonable!' She glanced back, meeting the others' gazes. 'Landing in the middle of this nowhere forest and not West City means someone could have led us here on purpose! It could be a trap.'

Mark paled. 'I hope not…'

'We got your back, boss!' Recoome said — too loudly, as the others quickly shushed him. 'Sorry,' he said in a quieter voice.

'They know we're coming,' Bez pointed out. 'We landed where they wanted us to, just as the computer followed.'

'Better they think we're not gonna attack them!' Launch whispered. 'Now… follow…'

It was twilight — the last light of the day shone through the leaves of the cool forest, dappling the ground with spooled beams of sunshine. The ship had landed in the only clearing they could see, hemmed by old trees and gnarled roots. Nothing of note as they neared the bottom of the ramp. Launch kept one hand cocked back, aura cooled and ready to erupt if needed. Carefully she scanned the woods and led their party of four to the grass-covered ground.

'We can't spend too much time investigating,' Bez said. 'If we're gone for too long the Saiyans may realize we landed, and then…'

'Yeah, I know,' Launch said curtly, peering into the woods. Beyond the boundary of the clearing it was hard to make out anything distinct in the fading light. 'What we need to focus on—'

'Hey!'

The four of them spun to their left, auras all in various states of alarm, staring at a waving figure just inside the clearing. Simple clothes, blue hair… wait…

Mark dropped his guard. 'Hey!' He hollered back. 'Bulma!''

The others froze. After a second Launch grunted and dispelled her aura. 'Well — that's a surprise.'

They approached and Bulma led, not saying much, not conveying much, except to lead them to a modest campfire somewhat deeper into the forest, surrounded by a bevy of equipment — electronics and pillars of metal and engines disemboweled from whatever car or truck they originated from. It all added up to a haphazard scrapyard.

Bez nudged aside with his foot a steel clamp as he entered the area. 'Bulma?... Why—'

Bulma interrupted by pointing her finger, saying nothing, conveying nothing, face as plain as her clothes. The four of them slowly turned to the fire again. They realized there was one — no, two people next to the fire. One laying on the ground, eyes closed, sleeping peacefully. Hands ran carefully through her teal hair, both purposeless and purposeful with how they circled near her scalp.

He was sitting next to and leaning on a stump, back against a grimy and scratched… ship, if the cloudy glass dome serving as the cockpit was any indication. Bandages wrapped around the legs of him and the person held in his lap. He looked tired, worn, and dirty. And yet there was an unmistakable calm resting on his mouth and nowhere else on his face. Like a burden had lifted.

'Take a seat.' Krillin stared into the fire. Flickering red reflected in his eyes. 'I think all of us have a lot to share.'

0o0o0

Their flight back was quick and passed by without remark. Rush almost thought he'd pass it all unquestioned. Almost.

Near but not at their destination Chi-Chi descended to the village pressing against Fire Mountain's base. She said a word to Rush that she wanted to buy some food from the stalls the farmers set up, talk to them and get a sense of how the village was doing before flying up the mountain. She reminded him that this place was her and her father's duty, to some degree. Even if that unspoken agreement was made decades ago, the protection afforded to these people would remain in place for as long as she or her father or anyone else kept it so. Until they stopped, this place wouldn't.

With a basket of wicker filled with dirt-lined vegetables, Chi-Chi led him to the edge of town and sat on a stump. She ran a hand over it as she placed the basket down beside it. 'This was where I would sit when I was younger while my father spoke with the townspeople, listening to their problems. Most things, he could fix. Roofs, fields, nuisance wild animals. Some issues, he couldn't. And every once in a while, something impossible was asked of him.'

She sighed, smoothed out her gi, and looked up at him. 'But he always tried. He always tried to help. And I'm no different. My friends and I are in the business of protecting people; those who can't protect themselves. For me, that includes these villagers, everyone on the mountain behind me — and anyone else I can help.'

Rush scanned the ground between them. 'Why are you?...'

'So I need to know you feel the same, Rush. That you'll do whatever it takes to help everyone you possibly can from Gero and anyone else who wants to hurt innocent people. I know you've been scared… confused… and you haven't always been entirely truthful with me.' She forced a small smile to her face. 'So help me in this. Promise me this.'

'...I... what do you want me to say?' Rush said quietly. 'I don't try to—'

'I know you're not trying to make things harder,' Chi-Chi said. 'But… I need to know you'll always have my back, because you have the same goals as me, understand?' She made a face. 'I need to know you care.'

'...Well…' Rush didn't know what to say. 'What do you want me to do? Say? How can I help?'

'To start — Is there any way we can break the news to everyone that Traveler's a Saiyan… gently?'

Without saying anything Rush stood and turned to look back at the village. 'I know there's no such thing as gentle when it comes to this stuff. It's do or don't.'

'Same with mentioning the PTO and his involvement?'

'The same.'

'And… Bulma…' Chi-Chi muttered. 'I wonder how she's going to take the news about her future self.'

Rush shrugged as turned back to her. 'We can't move forward until we do it, I guess.'

'Yeah.' Chi-Chi paused. 'I'm glad I have you here, Rush.' Without announcing it she hugged him.

He could feel her heartbeat pulsing in the sensory distance, just bleeding through the layers surrounding his core. He should have shunned it. Instead he hugged her back.

0o0o0

A rain passed and left mid-flight, water damp and visibility poor — for human eyes, anyway. Gero's and his creations had long dispensed with the weakness of flesh. Any kind of light or heat or ki could be singled out and seen with their eyes. Whatever could be made better by metal, was. Even his hands, ruined as they were… if they were still his hands…

As the rain leveled off and the wide forest below them, thick with evergreens and pine needles, opened up to a full view of the world, Gero dismissed his broken appendages from his sight. Stewing on his failures would do nothing. He had not achieved the victory he envisioned. His opponents were strong. Stubborn, even. And capable of surprising him still, as remote the possibility had seemed to him after years of careful observation and note-taking. There were expected but still surprisingly effective techniques used, witnessed but clever strategies, and many more data points to ponder than answers to implement.

Of one thing, there was no doubt. Gero still remembered vividly the night he had a heart attack and nearly died a feeble old man on the floor of his lab. He recalled the shock and disbelief of what his sensors had told him was out there in the world — a strength so monstrous that it had broken all his instruments. It was naivete to think that strength would not return on the cusp of his victory. Whoever it was and whatever they wanted, they had appeared again during the fateful battle, and as far as Gero could tell, fought the subject to a draw.

His vision drifted to the tan and metal and ill-fitted figure flying forward and to his left, clipped but still long black hair flagging in the air behind it. The subject was by every parameter stronger than both himself and 19. Which meant that it was his only defense against this… monstrous force.

Gero cursed under his breath. This was not supposed to occur. Employing the subject in this manner, undertested, risking a… if not for that heart attack, things would have been different...

At last they reached their destination. They descended onto an unremarkable stretch of forest — to the untrained eye. Past a few trees and upturned boulders they found what they were looking for. A small safehouse, nestled into the rock of a hill, steel walls mostly camouflaged by the creeping vines wrapping around it. It was the only back-up base he had ever put any effort into maintaining, let alone outfitting with any worthwhile equipment. But new equipment could be made with time. His hands could be refashioned. All he needed was isolation… and protection. Perhaps a week here, and then feeling capable again with remade hands, he could send the subject out to weaken his enemies… and then he would swoop in, delivering the final killing blow.

That rough sketch of a plan pleased Gero. As he went inside and settled into a sturdy if not uncomfortable metal chair, he beckoned his followers in. 19 and the subject entered silently. Dim, incandescent lights flickered on a moment later with a flick of a switch by 19's wrist.

Gero caught the subject's attention with a stern look. 'I need to ask you questions about your encounter earlier. The one you fought — you found him in the lab?'

'Yes.'

'And what was he doing?'

The subject averted his eyes for a moment. It began to mutter.

'I asked a question.'

'He… I don't know,' the subject replied, teeth bared. It was suddenly angry. 'But he annoyed me. Made me mad.'

'Why?'

Gero watched for any sign of… trouble, whatever that meant. Surely he had neutered memories enough when he was still in the tube. The subject was in there for years…'

Something was pressing against the subject's mind, curling lips and twisting its face, but for whatever reason it couldn't express anything beyond visceral reaction. '...He made me mad,' it repeated, head dipping, '...and...'

Disappointing that the subject was not more versed in conversation or relaying his recent history accurately. Gero imagined he'd have a lot of frustrating conversations with it over the days to come. But that was just as well. It was not ideal—

'Dr… Gero…'

Gero examined it again. 'What?'

'I need…' the subject's fingers spasmed and curled into fists. 'I… I need to talk to you.' He lifted his head. 'From… you to… me, and… from!...' He seized, teeth flashing. 'From Raditz to you!


A/N: I can't offer much consolation to those who eagerly await chapters except that I do continue to write every day! 2021 so far continues to be just as weird and attention-sucking as 2020, but I remain committed to writing and finishing this story. (It's also much easier when you know where you're going plot-wise, but that's enough of that :p). As always, I'm continually grateful for everyone's continued interest in this story and all the insightful and constructive reviews!

Reviews:

KagariAsuha: Time travel can be confusing, yes! I promise it's going to make more and more sense as events roll on and the narrative converges back to a common point of time.

Also, for sure I'm going to give that future Gohan background.

TrentBttl: I can guarantee you're going to get your "Gohan divergence point" question answered.

Perfect Carnage: It is canon and true that a Shadow Dragon did not destroy the Earth of that timeline XD. IMO the Shadow Dragons were the one uniquely terrible elements of DBGT.

Transformers g1's-Prime: Interesting theory about this arc… but sorry to say that's now how it's going to go down. Also an interesting comment about Gohan in that PTO-wins timeline!

SoulAuron: Spoiler! That jump forward a few chapters back wasn't actually a different timeline...

sigmakleim: Your theory on Gohan is very interesting. And, as you mentioned, Kakarot and the others have arrived on Earth!

Cityracer: I fixed those names, btw! Thanks for pointing that out. I also promise things will get more understandable as things roll on.

Yeah, last chapter's timeline is probably one of the worst ones out there, not gonna lie.

Interesting stuff about future Bulma… I also wonder what could have led to her possibly joining up with the PTO in a timeline where the Saiyans… wait, what happened to the future Saiyans in their timeline, anyway? What did Traveler say when he first came to Earth?

Also worth thinking through… the time machine, broken as it is, still links this story's timeline to future Retu's timeline.

I'm still really digging the cover, not gonna lie!

Anonymous: Glad you enjoyed the chapter from all the points you mentioned! Pretty much everything I was going for!

Yep, you make a really good point about my time-travel system here! It's restricted by the act of time-traveling. Theoretically there are an infinite amount of timelines but in practice as many as one wants to exist by using a time machine.

Also, fixed what you pointed out!