Notes: Please note that I began working on this chapter back when I thought the biggest issue I would have with the Universe Survival arc would be the team including humans. It doesn't make a huge difference, really, but I felt I should mention it.
Chapter Summary: Concerned about Goku's team picks for the Tournament of Power, Bulma does some recruiting of her own. And she made the right call, according to Eschalot, her warrior daughter from the future.
Bulma's Suggestion Box
A Dragon Ball Super Fanfic by
Nate Grey (xman0123-at-aol-dot-com)
Chapter 4: USA2-1: Eschalot's Dragon, Part 1
For the sworn enemies of Goku, life (or rather, the afterlife) in Hell was an endless pattern. They would band together and rise up against the lawkeeping ogres, defeat them, and then be defeated themselves before they could really start to enjoy their success, leading to a prolonged prison sentence until they eventually broke out and started the process again.
No one tired of the process because they had nothing better to do, and the hope of one day escaping Hell and getting revenge on Goku was all the motivation they needed. And after a few attempts, it was ridiculously clear that the majority of them were far stronger than the ogres meant to keep them in line were. Even the giant ogre who had sent them to Hell had only been able to do so because his specific authority provided him with a power that worked instantly. If they actually had the chance to fight him, it would have been a very different story.
But they never got that chance. For as easy as it was for them to take over Hell for a time, the exits were cleverly hidden. But there surely had to be at least one, because the fighter that was sent to restore order to Hell never stayed long once the job was done.
More often than not, that fighter was Pikkon.
And always, he ended up fighting against the leader of the revolts, which was Cell.
Although "fighting" was a generous term, in that it never took more than a few blows for Pikkon to put Cell down. Which was a compliment to Cell's power, since it only took a single blow, or even less than that, to stop everyone else.
And therein was the conundrum. Cell had a perfect body for battle, designed not only to start off at an enormously high level of power, but to grow stronger, not necessarily through defeat or near-mortal wounds as with Saiya-jin, but through observation and experimentation. If Cell could witness a fighting technique, and it was possible for any of the donors who had contributed to his genetic structure to perform, then Cell could either duplicate the feat precisely, or create one of matching power and purpose.
But for so long, there had been little worth learning. Certainly there were techniques that were unique to the residents of Hell, but as a result, most of those were actually only useful in Hell itself. So Cell would not bother to learn those unless he reached a point where he had given up on escaping.
And then Frieza was wished back to life, gained a golden form, and quickly got killed again. And in true Frieza fashion, he refused to show it to anyone, and insisted on training in secret.
And in true Cell fashion, Cell spied on Frieza and learned the form's flaws within a day. For an entire week, Frieza was considered the strongest in Hell, and Cell had not challenged his right to rule... yet. Instead, he increased his own training, not to match Frieza's power, but to exploit the flaws in it. And he had, in brutal fashion, despite being "weaker" than the golden form. Frieza had not been able to overcome the form's massive stamina drain quickly enough, and since Cell had no such problems, combined with training that focused on speed, doing maximum damage to weak points, and raising endurance, Cell only had to outlast Frieza. It was just like the fight with Future Trunks all over again, except that Trunks had learned faster and wisely given up, while Frieza's wounded pride prevented him from seeing the obvious: being stronger didn't always mean an automatic victory.
But it was a hollow victory for Cell. There was, in his mind, no reason for him to match the golden form at the moment. While he could easily obtain the equivalent on his own, minimize the stamina drain, and even improve upon the form, the effort would be pointless. He could already take apart every fighter in Hell as he was. And perhaps the biggest drawback was that, for Cell, the golden form would be no different from skipping several steps in an evolution to reach the end. The problem was that something valuable was learned at every step, so to bypass them only resulted in a ultimately weaker and inexperienced form. Cell's patience had paid off before, in him reaching his perfected form, so he was more than willing to do it again, if the result was something far greater than the golden form. And it would be, he could already see that. But it would be nearly impossible to reach those steps in Hell, without someone to show Cell the different steps.
And so he waited.
It would not be a very long wait.
Discrimination was not a new concept to the West Kaioshin. Yet she could not quite recall it being this annoying before.
She had not been invited to the Zen Exhibition Match. Actually, the other Universe 7 gods had asked her not to attend.
Too may Kaioshin from one universe, they had said. The other universes won't bring two Kaioshin, they said. Which, while true, still did not explain why the retired elder Kaioshin had been invited. True, he was not an active Kaioshin anymore, but all the more reason to show strength by not bringing a retiree. His advice was valuable, but there was certainly no reason both he and Kibito had to go. If anything, Beerus attending negated every possible reason for Kibito's presence. And bringing an attendant to such an event implied weakness on the Kaioshin's part.
In the end, she had not argued with them for only one reason: the tiny transmitter she had placed in the East Kaioshin's vest. She felt no guilt in tricking him with a hug, only righteous fury at being excluded and having to resort to such measures. Thank goodness for Bulma, who had both made the transmitter and given it to her, along with a wink, months ago. Clearly, as a fellow female, Bulma had experienced similar bias from males, to have expected such a situation to arise. And while the sharpness of Bulma's mind was a comfort, the predictability of the male gods, to be so easily figured out by that same mind, was not.
Currently, West Kaioshin was having tea with North Kaio on his planet. He, to no great surprise, had also been left out of the loop. He was far less annoyed about it, but only because he was used to such treatment. Which bothered her. She did not believe that their universe's greatest fighters mostly residing in North Kaio's quadrant was a coincidence. Nor did she believe that East Kaioshin had much to do with it, well-meaning though he was. His contact with Earth in particular had been nearly nonexistent until he turned his attention to Majin Buu. And Beerus had been asleep for so long that any recent positive developments on the planet had to be attributed to North Kaio alone.
But they were not attributed to North Kaio. At least, not in the eyes of those who outranked him. It was always assumed that the Kaioshin, rather than the Kaio, were ultimately responsible for successes or failures within a universe. It was not a flawed theory in general, simply a grossly inaccurate one in this case.
Oddly, North Kaio did not desire that the oversight be corrected. He did not seem to care that he was barely an afterthought to the Kaioshin on most matters. Odd, considering how overly sensitive he was to what the other Kaio thought of him. But then, they were his equals. Perhaps it was not so strange.
It would have been a stretch to call East and West Kaioshin equals. East Kaioshin had been acting alone for a great deal of time, and though he was glad she had returned, that extended period of taking over the Dai Kaioshin's duties had left their mark on him. Upon taking up her old post, she had realized that still left him with the workload of three additional Kaioshin, and offered to help out. Though moved by her kindness and concern, he had politely refused. He claimed she needed time to readjust to her old workload and see how things had changed in her time away.
They were equals no longer, and never would be again. She could accept that, however reluctantly. But even if he essentially was Dai Kaioshin now, it did not mean that her input was unnecessary or meaningless. For him to treat her that way, after everything they had experienced, was completely unacceptable. She knew that she would have to confront him, most likely in front of the elder and Kibito. And if they had a problem with it, they could taste her wrath as well. She was not going to be ignored anymore. Especially when her input might save their entire universe.
The moment that Goku left Capsule Corporation, Bulma was on the phone. Five minutes later, she and West Kaioshin were talking in hushed but angry tones in one of the lesser used labs.
"It's bad enough that they told you to stay out of it," Bulma hissed. "But I can't believe they weren't even going to tell you about the Tournament of Power! Or that you could be erased! All the Kaioshin were supposed to be informed!"
West Kaioshin shook her head. "We don't have time to be angry about that right now. You know Goku best. Tell me about this team he's assembling. Will it truly be the best fighters our universe has to offer?"
Bulma frowned. "I have security cameras covering every inch of this place, and I've already reviewed the necessary footage. It'll either be the best fighters that Kaio-sama's quadrant, or this planet, has to offer. They're not even going to bother searching other planets."
"You're saying there are more powerful fighters that are being overlooked?"
"Well, sure. There's Pikkon, for one. In fact, I would ask you to scan the other quadrants, just to be safe. But at this point, the best fighters boil down to two categories: those who have been trained by Whis, and then everyone else."
West Kaioshin nodded. "True. But I sense there is something you are not saying, Bulma-sama. Is there a specific fighter you have in mind?"
"Yes," Bulma said hesitantly. "There are several problems, though. He's dead, he's extremely dangerous, and as he is, we can't trust him at all. But he may still be our best chance to save the universe."
"Has he been trained by Whis?"
"No."
"Then Pikkon can handle him. As for being dead, that's no issue, either. Tell me this fighter's name."
Bulma looked as if she didn't want to say. And having reviewed the planet's history, when West Kaioshin heard the name, she completely understood Bulma's reluctance... as well as her belief that this evil being might save them all.
Beerus had ordered Goku to bring the Universe 7 team to Capsule Corp when he was done with recruiting. His excuse was that he wanted to meet Vegeta's daughter. The reality was that he felt very much like stress-eating. Which made him rather easy to find.
By now, Beerus knew to be wary whenever Bulma was too nice to him. He could not destroy her, however, because she was his main food supplier on this planet. With anyone else, the food might not be as good, or served as fast, and certainly not in such large quantities. Unfortunately, Bulma also knew this, so she tended to get an attitude with him where once she would have only been afraid.
It was more than a little annoying... but so long as the food kept coming, Beerus could adjust.
It was not even rare to see Bulma accompanied by West Kaioshin, either. And yet Beerus sensed that something was off as they approached his dining table.
"Please forgive the interruption, Beerus-sama," West Kaioshin said, bowing her head. "But I bring news that may change the outcome of the Tournament of Power."
Beerus blinked and put down the milkshake he'd been drinking, licking the foam from his lips. "I'm listening."
"Bulma-sama believes she may be able to recruit a fighter that can, with some effort, easily surpass some fighters that Goku plans to recruit from this planet."
Beerus stared at Bulma. "You've got pretty high hopes for that baby of yours, then."
Bulma frowned at him. "No, it's not Bra! This fighter is dead. But I doubt this will be a case where we can simply revive him with any Dragon Balls. I'm going to need some godly influence to get this done. So I want you to tell me if I'm wrong in thinking this would make a difference."
"You are not a fighter yourself, but I will not deny that some of your ideas have been noteworthy. So, why do you think it's worth it to revive this fighter?"
"My son from the future was the one who killed Frieza the first time he attacked Earth. But my son was no match for this fighter, even after considerable training."
"So this fighter is stronger than a Super Saiya-jin?" Beerus asked, sounding slightly more interested. "Well, that's a start."
"It's not just that. He has DNA from Goku, Vegeta, and Frieza. Which means there is a strong possibility that he might be able to become the third-strongest fighter on the team, at the least."
"You think he will surpass Goku's son?" Beerus asked.
Bulma smiled grimly. "Oh, I can guarantee that much. But since we are short on time, there are a couple of things I'll need your help with."
Pikkon had found the role of being West Kaioshin's attendant to be a rather enjoyable one. He had been under the mistaken impression that he would be acting as her servant. Nothing could have been further from the truth.
He was a fighter, and she understood and encouraged that. The bulk of his time was spent on training, and she would either observe him or occupy herself with her own duties. She occasionally requested that he accompany her to various places, which exposed him to a wide range of beings, many who had trained in very different styles of combat and didn't mind demonstrating them. In this way, being her attendant had taught him nearly as much about fighting as training under Whis had. Where Whis's training allowed Pikkon to fight at a much higher level, Pikkon's own travels allowed him to fight in a variety of ways on that level.
So it was not only a pleasure, but an honor, to be asked to accompany Whis to Hell. Along the way, Whis shared the details of the Tournament of Power. In return, Pikkon shared all that he knew about the fighter they had been sent to retrieve.
"There is something I'm curious about, Whis-sensei," Pikkon said. "It sounds as if you have nothing to lose, even if this universe is erased. Why go this far to help us?"
"It is true that I would be spared if this universe were erased," Whis agreed. "But do not misunderstand: I do not want it to be erased. I am duty-bound to prevent rule-breaking, but I will happily support the efforts to prepare for the Tournament of Power otherwise."
"Then how do you explain what you did with Bulma's baby?"
Whis smiled. "Vegeta is easily one of this universe's strongest fighters. It would have been a shame if he missed the Tournament by a few hours merely because his little princess decided to delay her grand entrance. I am quite sure that Zeno-sama would have been disappointed as well, which is what we must avoid at all costs. In fact, that is also why I agreed to this current task."
"I must thank you for that," Pikkon said. "Even as West Kaioshin's attendant, I am certain my authority does not carry enough weight to accomplish this feat."
"As I said, this is a time of crisis. I am sure that we will have few difficulties, if any."
Whis was more correct that he knew.
The conversation with the ogres who ran Hell went exactly like this:
"For the sake of the continued existence of this universe, we demand that you release the prisoner Cell into our custody."
"THANK YOU! Just promise us that you'll take that troublemaker out of here and never bring him back!"
The ogres even provided a guide to lead Whis and Pikkon straight to Cell.
"That was much easier than I thought it would be," Whis admitted to Pikkon.
"That's because you haven't seen... well, the hell that Cell puts them through," Pikkon explained. "He is by far one of the strongest beings in Hell. And he knows it, so he leads regular, successful revolts against the ogres. The only reason the ogres are still in power here is because they always call on someone like me to put Cell in his place... which is the prison they lock him up in, and the same one that he always escapes from once he's regained his strength."
"This sounds like it has happened a lot," Whis noted. "They never came up with a permanent solution?"
"We just became that solution, Whis-sensei. That's why they made us promise not to bring him back."
Not surprisingly, Cell and his gang had once again broken out of prison.
But surprisingly, they had done virtually nothing after that. They had merely relocated to a large warehouse in plain sight of the prison. It was as if, despite having no current desire to escape Hell, Cell's gang simply wanted to remind the ogres who truly held the power there. And since the ogres had yet to formally request help to deal with them, perhaps the lesson had been learned.
And yet it was immediately clear that Pikkon held his own sway in Hell. Most of the gang made themselves scarce the second they saw him. Those that were brave enough not to run still looked extremely uneasy as Pikkon moved past them with Whis following behind him. Only one person recognized Whis, however, and he was clearly more afraid than anyone else.
Whis paused in front of the Saiya-jin. "Calm yourself. We are not here for you."
"You want Cell?" the Saiya-jin asked.
Whis nodded.
"He's in the back, with Frieza. Or what's left of Frieza, by now."
"Your assistance is appreciated, Vegeta-sama."
The former Saiya-jin king shook his head. "I'm no fool. Dead as I am, Beerus-sama could still destroy me. Even if he didn't, things never go well for us with Pikkon around."
"So nice to hear such glowing praise of one of my students," Whis murmured, causing the king's face to drain of color as he stared at Pikkon in shock.
Pikkon and Whis found Cell at the rear of the warehouse, staring down in disgust at the freshly beaten form of Frieza on the floor. As they watched, the black wings of Cell's perfect form twitched irritably, dislodging some of Frieza's blood from them.
"Oh my. We seem to have interrupted something," Whis observed.
Pikkon shook his head. "I believe the lesson has already ended. Surely even Frieza must now admit who the strongest is."
Cell turned and glared at them, crossing his arms over his chest. "I see that those spineless weaklings have called for backup again. I'm in a bad mood, so I won't make it easy for you."
Pikkon narrowed his eyes, peering at Cell intently. "Your power has increased since we last met. Keeping Frieza in line must have done you some good. But we are here for a different purpose. You have been released into the custody of the gods, and we are here to transfer you, Cell."
Cell blinked slowly, glancing between them suspiciously. "Who is your companion and why can I not sense his power?"
Pikkon smirked. "As I said, you are in the hands of the gods now. Do you think it would be such a simple matter for just anyone to gauge their power?"
"And if I refuse?" Cell asked softly.
"Then we can do things the usual way: with force."
"What do the gods want with me? And why now?"
"Allow me to explain," Whis offered. "I am Whis, attendant to the Hakaishin of Universe 7, Beerus-sama. In less than two days, our universe will send ten fighters to compete with those from other universes in the Tournament of Power. Losing universes will be erased from existence. We are here to recruit you to fight. That is, assuming you do not wish to be erased."
Cell stared at Pikkon. "You will be one of the fighters, I assume?"
Pikkon nodded. "Unless ten fighters more suitable than me can be found, I will participate."
Cell chuckled. "Ten fighters more suitable than you. That's very amusing, Pikkon."
"It is not just a question of power," Whis said. "Teamwork and strategy is also a factor in this tournament, which is another reason your aid will prove valuable. We have it on good authority that you are very familiar with the techniques and fighting styles of most of the potential members."
Cell's eyes narrowed. "You mean Goku and his friends."
"Will that be a problem for you?" Whis asked.
"No. I can put my grudge aside long enough to ensure the universe survives. If it didn't, my vengeance would be impossible to carry out, after all."
"That is a rather mature way to look at it." Whis paused and glanced at the fallen form of Frieza. "But, tell me. When you defeated Frieza, was he using his golden form?"
Cell snorted. "Of course. I will admit that he even managed to kill me a few times, but that means nothing here. All I had to do was outlast him. Once he had severely drained his own stamina, it was simple to pick him apart, despite his power being greater than my own. It didn't hurt that I have practice at that sort of thing."
"Pikkon, you have fought both Cell and Frieza," Whis noted. "How would you compare their respective powers now?"
"Cell has always been much stronger than Frieza," Pikkon answered at once. "I have not fought Frieza since he gained this golden form, but from what you told me, even someone that trained under you would have some difficulty with it, at first. So no matter how well Cell knew Frieza, I consider the fact that he was able to exploit the form's weakness, without training under you, to be a huge credit to his abilities. It also convinces me, more than ever, that we must recruit him."
Whis nodded slowly. "I see. And do you think he could repeat this feat outside of the confines of Hell?"
"You believe that my victory is due to Hell's rules of virtual immortality, is that it?" Cell asked, barely suppressing his fury. "There is only one person who defeated me while I was alive, and that victory came at a very high cost. Frieza has never been a challenge for me, and he certainly isn't now, golden form and all. Yet even he could kill the majority of Goku's friends without breaking a sweat. If you still doubt me, I will happily humiliate any member of this supposed team of yours in combat."
"That won't be necessary," Whis said. "And I was asking, not because I doubted your abilities, but because Pikkon is the only person I know who has defeated you here. That makes him the most accurate judge of what you would be capable of outside of Hell. If you have always been Frieza's better, then I have every reason to believe that you can far surpass his peak."
"That much, we agree on," Cell replied. "But I will need what little time remains to prepare."
"That is no problem," Whis assured him. "We have arranged a specialized training area for you. I am told it is the very same one that Goku, Gohan, Vegeta, and Trunks used to prepare for the Cell Games."
The shock on Cell's face was obvious, but it quickly became amusement, and then overwhelming desire. "That... will be perfect."
Bulma was feeling quite out of sorts as she nervously paced around the Lookout. Her plan to add Cell to the Universe 7 team made sense, in theory, but she was under no illusions. He could not be trusted, and she had only suggested this at all because there were several people stronger than Cell who could be trusted to destroy him, if it came to that. And she knew it would, eventually.
Even if Cell behaved himself and helped them save the universe, Bulma knew he was too dangerous to leave alive. And that would especially be the case after the training he was about to attempt. It felt odd, to intentionally plan to use and betray Cell, but this was the same bio-android who had killed her son to reach this timeline, and then tried to kill him again once there. She was not about to feel mercy or sympathy for him.
Fear was not off of the table, however, and Bulma realized it the instant she turned to find Whis and Pikkon standing a few feet away with Cell between them. The closest she had ever physically been to Cell before then was holding the discarded halves of his egg, and later on, being close enough to touch his shed skin. And just imagining the monster that had crawled out of it had left her nearly paralyzed with fear. Actually being in his presence now was so much worse than that, even with Whis and Pikkon there, and the halo floating just above Cell's head that guaranteed he was still dead.
Because now she could see the confident, mocking smile on his face as they approached.
"I am told that you are the one who arranged this?" Cell asked smoothly.
Bulma blinked and forced herself to nod.
His smile widened. "You have my thanks, dear lady. It almost makes me sorry that I killed your son in my timeline. Almost."
Bulma closed her eyes, and had to bite her lip to keep herself from responding. Thankfully, Pikkon and Whis took the hint, and Bulma could hear the three of them moving away from her. She wanted so badly to put Cell in his place, but there was little point. Even if she managed to come up with something truly scathing, at worst, it might anger him to the point where he killed her instantly. At best, he might refuse to cooperate and doom them all in the process. No, what mattered now was that he got strong enough to make a difference. Everything else would have to take a backseat to that. And Bulma had to be satisfied with the knowledge that Cell would get what was coming to him in the end. But for now, the monster that had killed one of her children was going to save them both.
The trio had almost reached the Lookout's interior when it happened: two near-silent footfalls sounded just behind Bulma. She turned around, expecting to see one of her friends, and instead came face-to-face with what she first took to be a very distorted mirror.
It was her own face that gazed back at her, but with several key differences. This was Bulma's face as it had looked when she was a teenager. In fact, taking in the entire package, this young woman was a convincing double for Bulma on the very day she'd first met Goku. Physically, at least. But that was where the similarities ended. In particular, the Saiya-jin armor she wore, the blue-furred tail wrapped around her waist, and the red-tinted scouter on her face were the biggest differences.
The longer Bulma stared, however, the more convinced she became that it wasn't her. Rather, her thoughts turned to her newborn baby girl, currently in her mother's care, but who would almost certainly grow up to greatly resemble Bulma, just as the person before her did.
Bulma swallowed loudly and hesitantly licked her suddenly dry lips. "Bra-chan?" she whispered. "Is that you?"
The half Saiya-jin teenager before her blinked and frowned slightly. "I don't know who that is. But there can be no mistaking who you are." She stepped closer, directly into Bulma's personal space, and to Bulma's amazement, began to sniff her. "Yes, it is you. This scent, I know it well."
Bulma tried to speak, but before she could, the teenager was embracing her, gently but firmly. "Kaa-san," the girl breathed in her ear. "I'm glad that you're safe." It should have been strange. It wasn't. Every instinct that Bulma possessed told her to return the embrace, and so she did, more certain than ever that this was indeed her daughter, if only answering to a different name.
"You are my daughter," Bulma insisted. "I can feel it."
She felt the girl nod against her cheek. "That is the strength of our bond."
"You said your name wasn't Bra. But that is the name I just gave my daughter. What is yours?"
There was a notable pause, and then the girl slowly released her. "This is unexpected," she murmured. "I intended to arrive well before my birth in this timeline. But for you to already have a daughter, unless..." She trailed off, shook her head, then lowered herself to one knee, bowing her head respectfully. "Greetings, kaa-san. I am Eschalot. My father named me."
"That explains a lot," Bulma replied. "You've come from the future, right?"
Eschalot looked up at her. "You don't seem surprised."
"You aren't my first time-traveling child," Bulma pointed out. "But you are the first one to tell me right away that you are my child, though. Your brother kept his identity a secret, but I understand why he had to. So, are you here to save us from a terrible fate as well?"
Eschalot stood up. "I must admit, it's convenient for me that you've been through this before with my... brother? I suppose his name was not Sansai?"
"No, it was, and is, Trunks." At Eschalot's blank look, Bulma quickly moved on. "So, what's the trouble?"
"Primarily, I am here because our records of this time period are incomplete, due to a filing accident. But now that I am here, I can say with confidence that your current preparations for the Tournament of Power will not be enough. You are pointed in the proper direction, but you are missing a key element that will ensure your survival."
It was then that Bulma noticed Eschalot was staring past her, which made her realize that Whis, Pikkon, and Cell had never gone inside the Lookout. They, too, must have been curious about Eschalot's arrival. Cell seemed especially interested, and Bulma suspected that any other time traveller would be of great interest to him. Likewise, Eschalot seemed to be staring directly at him.
"I take it this key element has something to do with Cell?" Bulma asked.
Eschalot nodded. "Yes. In particular, there is an aspect of his body that you have not taken into account. Can I assume that since I see no other Saiya-jin here, you wish to keep this from them?"
Bulma suddenly felt nervous. Eschalot had been named by her father, and was clearly a warrior. There was a very good chance that she would be more loyal to her father, rather than her mother.
As if she could sense the direction of Bulma's thoughts, Eschalot smiled. "Don't worry, kaa-san. I have had to do battle with my father's pride more than once. I have no problem keeping a secret from him. Particularly in this case. Our records show that Cell played a vital role in the Tournament of Power, due to his mastery of transformations."
"What do you mean?" Cell demanded. "What transformations?"
"And this is why I say your preparations are not complete," Eschalot explained to Bulma. "Cell's body was created to excel in battle. Any technique that he witnesses or experiences firsthand, is capable of learning, and is deemed worth learning, is carved into his cellular structure, independent of his own will. All he requires is an opportunity to draw out the technique, and time enough to make it his own."
Cell looked stunned, a clear sign that he had not expected Eschalot to have that information. "How can you possibly know so much about my body?" Cell asked.
"Because you told me, and every other student who trained under you, on the very first day," Eschalot answered. "You had no patience for students who wasted all their energy on transformations that they then could not use properly. I hope you will allow me to return the favor, and show you what I learned from you."
"Hold on," Bulma said. "You're telling me that in the future, Cell is teaching Saiya-jin kids how to fight?"
"Not all of them," Eschalot replied. "Just those who have royal blood or special permission. Which reminds me." Eschalot drew a folded note from a compartment in her armor and presented it to Whis. "I was instructed to give this to you, Whis-san."
Whis took the note, unfolded it, and quickly read it. His expression revealed nothing as he immediately pressed the note against the tip of his staff, which vaporized the note on contact. "Pikkon, the young lady will be overseeing Cell's training with you. It seems you both have something to teach him."
Pikkon gave Eschalot a curious glance, but nodded. "If you say so, Whis-sensei."
"Wait!" Bulma protested, grabbing Eschalot's arm without thinking. "You're not seriously going in there with Cell?!" She could not really be blamed for her knee-jerk reaction, all things considered. Bulma had no intention of allowing another of her children to die at Cell's hands.
In the next instant, three things became perfectly clear to all who bore witness.
The first was that Bulma's concern for Eschalot's safety was entirely misplaced, because the aura of malice that suddenly erupted from the teenager made everyone but Whis freeze in awe of its potency.
The second was that if Eschalot had not had a tighter reign on her temper, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that she would have killed Bulma on the spot.
The last was that if Eschalot could react that way to someone who both was her mother and posed no threat to her, Cell could certainly not expect any mercy from her. And perhaps his own future self was the one who had trained her to think in such a way.
In any case, Eschalot did catch herself, and the aura faded at once. The damage had been done, however, and Bulma was staring at the teenager with naked fear in her eyes.
"I apologize, kaa-san," Eschalot said softly. "But the one thing I hate most is to have my combat ability called into question, especially by those who could not even begin to accurately judge it. Trust me when I tell you that as he is now, Cell is no threat to me." With that, she pulled free of Bulma's limp grasp and walked away, not bothering once to look back.
In the wake of her newfound fear of Eschalot, Bulma began to realize that she had made a mistake. She had assumed that Eschalot looking so much like her meant that they would also be alike. Nothing could have been further from the truth. As she reviewed their conversation in her head, Bulma recognized that there had been several clues that she had missed at first.
Eschalot and her brother being named by their father, and confirming a person's identity by sniffing them, were rather large hints that Bulma's own influence had been limited at best. Eschalot had been raised as a Saiya-jin first and foremost.
The future version of Cell mainly training children of royal blood implied that there were also children of non-royal blood. Which, if Bulma's guess was correct, meant that Saiya-jin were again thriving somehow.
And the biggest hint by far was the way that Eschalot had reacted to Bulma grabbing her in an attempt to restrain. Bulma had seen angry teenagers before, but Eschalot's reaction had been far beyond that. Just for a few seconds, Eschalot had looked at Bulma as if she were nothing. As if Bulma had no right to even touch her. And no child of Bulma's would ever react to her that way. Not unless she had absolutely no say in how they were raised.
Yet, it was clear that Eschalot loved her. But she had not been raised to view Bulma as any sort of authority figure, and certainly not someone who could correct her. And the more Bulma thought about it, the more all of the hints pointed to one iron-clad conclusion.
Eschalot was not from the future. Not from the future of this timeline, anyway. No, for a child who behaved as Eschalot did to be raised, there was only one way it could have possibly happened. When the Saiya-jin had come to Earth, they had not been defeated. And that Bulma had not willingly agreed to be with Vegeta. She had been taken by him as a slave, and so no matter how much Eschalot loved her mother, in the end, what was a mere slave to a princess? A source of amusement? Someone she could choose to obey only in private, but publicly had the freedom to spit on?
Bulma realized she had to do something. But as she started to open her mouth, Whis coughed, loudly and falsely, then merely shook his head, indicating that she should say nothing. Bulma stared at him, and then after the backs of Cell, Eschalot, and Pikkon as Mr. Popo guided them inside the Lookout.
"I know what you are thinking," Whis said softly. "But trust me when I say that what will happen in that room is necessary."
"How can you possibly know that?" Bulma asked.
"To state it very simply: the note that Eschalot gave me was from another version of myself. There were things in it that only I could ever know."
Bulma's eyes narrowed. "You said 'another' version of you. Not the future version of you."
Whis nodded. "I suspected you had guessed that much. I also do not believe that girl to be from the future. But I would remind you that it was you who first stated that she was. She merely went along with your mistaken assumption. An assumption, I might add, that you likely would not have made, had the laws concerning time travel been more strictly enforced in this universe."
"Is now really the time for this again?"
Whis arched an eyebrow. "Perhaps, considering the majority of the time travelers in this universe seem to be directly related to you."
"Shouldn't you be more concerned that she's lying?"
"I would ask you the same thing. If nothing else, she has the support of another me. I cannot say the same for certain about her actual mother. Can you?"
Bulma frowned. "No. And that's only one of things that worries me about her."
"In any case, I am not certain how willing Eschalot will be to provide the answers that you seek," Whis said. "I will keep an eye on things here. As you said, you have experience with a time-traveling child. Surely you have an idea of where to begin looking for clues?"
"Yes. Eschalot flew up here, but I doubt she just flew through time. She must have a time machine somewhere on Earth, and there are precious few things that can give off the same type of energy as a time machine. I should be able to locate it easily enough, if she used it recently."
"I would hurry," Whis suggested. "There is no guarantee Cell will need a full year in that room. You likely only have a matter of hours."
"I may be able to save you a considerable amount of time," Dende offered as he approached them. "I've been speaking telepathically with Kaio-sama, and he has noticed something odd. There is an extra Namek on Earth, and neither of us could even begin to explain how they got here. But with the arrival of Eschalot, I now have a working theory. I do not think she came to this time alone."
"But did she mean to bring a Namek with her?" Bulma asked. "Or is this another unwelcome stowaway like Cell was?"
"That is something I intend to find out personally," Dende said. "I will be coming with you. There may be a communication barrier otherwise."
"Good thinking, Dende," Bulma agreed. "I never really got a good handle on your language. But I think we're going to need some muscle on this one. I realize Nameks are generally peaceful, but-"
"But we cannot assume too much just yet," Dende concluded. "I agree. And I have requested some assistance."
A few seconds later, West Kaioshin appeared in front of Bulma and Dende. "I hear we have a time-travelling Namek to find?"
"That was fast," Bulma noted.
"I happened to be with North Kaio at the time." West Kaioshin smiled at them both. "So, shall we go, my friends?"
The moment the door clicked shut, a heady mix of anticipation, wariness, and dread settled upon Cell. No matter what happened from this point on, he was guaranteed to leave this room stronger than when he entered, and he was eager to get started.
Unfortunately, he was in no position to rush either of his teachers. Pikkon was clearly stronger than him, and Eschalot, while her abilities were still unknown, could be even more dangerous, if that display earlier was any indication.
Cell glanced at Eschalot, noticing that she was examining the food supply. Pikkon, on the other hand, had briefly taken a look outside, but was now watching each of them carefully.
"Eschalot," Pikkon said abruptly, drawing her attention. "To best use our time here, I think we should coordinate our efforts. I don't know what you plan to-"
"Divine ki, right?" Eschalot interrupted. "That's what you'll teach him to use?"
Pikkon frowned and nodded.
"That makes things simple, then. I plan to help him master the stages below that first." Eschalot removed her scouter and placed it on a nearby table. "I expect it won't take long. You should have plenty of time for your turn."
The Namek was not hard to find. Dende tracked him to a desert, of all places. Bulma found this odd, but she did not understand Dende's distress until he reminded her that Nameks needed only water to survive. Odds were, he had not chosen this location.
Rather, he hadn't been in a position to choose anything. This was confirmed the moment they saw the steel collar around his neck, the bruises on his face, and the way his tattered robes hung from his skeletal frame.
The Namek did not seem afraid of them, merely wary. He did not relax when Dende addressed him in Namekian. Even through the language barrier, Bulma could tell that the responses were clipped and entirely lacking the warmth that she had witnessed between the majority of Nameks when they interacted with each other. He sounded more like the Piccolo of old. But while Piccolo had been pure evil then, Bulma suspected this Namek was a victim of considerable tragedy.
After several minutes during which Dende's growing frustration with the conversation became obvious, he turned slowly to Bulma and West Kaioshin.
"I have managed to convince him," Dende said slowly, with great effort, "that I am not a slave, and that you two are not my masters."
Bulma's eyes widened. "Are the Saiya-jin-?"
"Yes." Dende did not quite spit the word out, but it was a very near thing. "He belongs to Eschalot. In their world, she is the first princess of the empire."
"And those bruises on his face?" Bulma asked worriedly.
Dende shook his head. "She does not touch him directly. Only those who lack imagination do."
Bulma didn't like the answer, but not for the obvious reason. "Does she hurt him?"
Dende stared at her. Finally, he offered, "She is not kind to him."
Bulma sighed heavily.
"What is his name?" West Kaioshin asked.
Dende didn't look at her.
"You haven't said it," she added, more pointedly.
"It's the first thing the Saiya-jin take from them. He has no memory of it, he is a number now. But I refuse to call him by that label, even if it doesn't matter to him."
West Kaioshin gently touched Dende's arm. "Please tell him we will call him whatever he likes."
With a weary smile, Dende translated the offer. The Namek eyed them curiously, though not kindly, and barked a single word. Dende looked startled, but not unpleasantly so, for once.
"Eschalot calls him Mame. It is better than a number, at least."
"Does he like it?" West Kaioshin asked.
Dende shrugged. "He prefers it to the number. In part because it is against protocol to rename slaves. But for royals like Eschalot, rules are generally things that happen to other people."
"Please tell him that we will free him, if he desires it. Also, that any information he is willing to provide would be appreciated, but that it is not a requirement."
Dende glanced at Bulma, who nodded firmly, and then translated the offer.
Mame did not look impressed. He also did not look angry. If anything, he seemed bored. He took his time in answering, though his reply was longer than nearly anything he had said up to that point.
"He does not believe the offer is real, and even if it is, he rejects it," Dende said. "He will not betray Eschalot, though this is not due to fear of her."
A thought occurred to Bulma, and it was an unpleasant one. "Ask him who the Saiya-jin serve."
Dende shot her a mildly alarmed look. "What do you mean?"
Dende's reaction convinced her that she was on the right track. "This is important, Dende. Ask him."
Dende asked. Mame's answer was quick, but the way his eyes briefly shifted to West Kaioshin told Bulma the answer even before Dende translated.
"They serve the gods."
"Which gods?" Bulma pressed.
The answer was half of what Bulma expected, and half of what she didn't.
The first god the Saiya-jin served was Beerus. Whis's presence in their world confirmed that much already. But it was the second god that threw Bulma for a loop. It wasn't a Kaioshin, at least it didn't sound like one. But it was hard to say who it was, because Dende admitted that a great deal was lost in translation. The god's title broke down to something like "High Dragon Sage" and, though it was unclear why, Mame held the dragon god in higher regard than he did Beerus. Dende speculated this had nothing to do with a difference in power, and everything to do with origin. Which would mean that the High Dragon Sage was likely part of Namekian origin. But it was difficult to imagine a Namekian god who would allow or support the enslavement of his people.
It was unusual for anything to take priority over training for Vegeta, but... he had a newborn daughter now. And his being unprepared had already resulted in her recieving a name that was, while not unworthy of her, still not a name a Saiya-jin would have been given. Bulma was not a bad mother, just an alarmingly prepared and sneaky one. So when Bulma had left little Bra in Mrs. Briefs's care, Vegeta had insisted on lurking in the corner, watching the endless parade of visitors streaming in and out to see the baby. This went on for a few hours. Vegeta eventually had to admit that, having raised Bulma, Mrs. Briefs surely knew enough about raising children, and even if she did not, Chi-Chi was also hovering over Bra, when she was not preparing food. And much as Vegeta did not want to depend on a woman who had found Kakarot worthy of being her mate, he could not deny that between her cooking and her sternness, not to mention her outburst just after Pan had been born, Chi-Chi was truly worthy of being a Saiya-jin's mate, and a Saiya-jin child's mother.
None of which prevented him from momentarily taking Bra to make absolutely sure that she was in the peak of health. It certainly was not to say that Papa had to train now and that he would miss her terribly, as Mrs. Briefs seemed to think. It amounted to about the same either way: Bra giggled at him, and Vegeta reluctantly handed her to Chi-Chi, who had been eagerly waiting for another turn to hold her.
With that taken care of, Vegeta's focus returned to its proper place: he needed to get stronger for the Tournament of Power. He intended to spend as much time as possible in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, no matter what anyone else said. He was going to win the tournament for his universe, not Kakarot.
Only, there was a bit of a snag when he arrived at the Lookout: the room was already occupied.
"Who dares?!" Vegeta roared at Popo.
"There is no need to shout at me," Popo said calmly. "As for who is inside, that is-"
"Otou-sama?" said a soft voice.
Vegeta turned and got a bad shock. He didn't know how he knew, but he knew at once.
The girl walking toward him now: the way she moved with no wasted motion, dressed in Saiya-jin armor, and the uncanny resemblance to old photos of Bulma, there could be no doubt as to her identity.
She dropped to one knee before him and lowered her head. "It is good to see you in this world, my king. I am Eschalot, your daughter. Please forgive me. I had reserved the room's use for myself and my comrades, and had not realized you might require it. I humbly ask that you wait but a few more moments. And if it is training that you seek, please allow me to assist you. I can imagine no greater honor than being allowed to fight my father."
Vegeta stared down at the girl, saying nothing for a long moment. He glanced at Popo, who nodded to show she was being truthful, as far as they knew. Finally, he took a step forward and touched Eschalot's shoulder. "Stand. Let me look at you."
Eschalot rose at once. She stared into Vegeta's eyes without fear.
He could see there was confidence in her own power, but more than that, a desire to prove herself worthy. To him, perhaps, but also to herself. His eyes lingered on the blue tail wrapped around her waist. "Tell me, your tail. Is it only blue because it matches your hair?"
Eschalot smirked. "I would rather show you the answer in battle, my king."
Progress in gaining information from Mame was limited: under no circumstances would he reveal where the time machine he and Eschalot had traveled in was hidden, but with some prodding, he would answer questions about nearly anything else.
Bulma eventually decided that Mame was being so cooperative in part because of West Kaioshin's presence. While he had made no mention of any other gods in his universe beyond Beerus and the High Dragon Sage, he must have at least seen a Kaioshin before. Bulma figured their outfits and hairstyle were a dead giveaway no matter the world.
Ultimately, though, Bulma knew the time machine wasn't their biggest concern. If it came to that, she was sure that between Whis and the Kaioshin, they could manage to return Eschalot and Mame to their own world just fine. No, the larger concern was the true reason for their visit, which hopefully Whis knew, but clearly wasn't going to share. And as he had displayed no sense of urgency, and encouraged Bulma to find answers for herself, perhaps whatever threat Eschalot posed was currently managable.
But Bulma didn't like to think of her own child that way. And it wasn't enough to simply trust that Whis would handle things. From the looks of things, Bulma had already lost any chance to influence Eschalot. But she wasn't about to let Bra grow into her, or allow Eschalot to do anything that might alter Bra's chances of living a happy life. She hoped that would only mean forcing Eschalot to leave, at worst. But she feared that solving this problem would not be as simple as that. It never was.
Bulma decided not to risk spending too much time questioning Mame. As Whis had said, and as Bulma had already figured, Cell would not need a full day in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber to dramatically improve his power. And there was no telling what Eschalot had taught him in the time that had already passed, or how quickly Cell would learn and master it. And if it was truly something that the Cell in Eschalot's world had passed on to her, that made it much more likely that this Cell could learn it.
West Kaioshin shared Bulma's concerns, but Dende, as Bulma had thought he might, wanted to continue speaking with Mame. This was not really a problem, except they had no idea how Eschalot would react if she returned. Actually, Bulma thought she knew exactly how Eschalot might react: she would think she'd found the perfect opportunity to gain a second slave. So it was in Earth's best interest that Eschalot not come across Dende while he was unprotected. And Bulma did not consider Mame to be suitable protection of any sort, if only because he was more likely to help Eschalot enslave Dende.
It was a delicate situation, however, because Bulma did not want to imply that possibility in front of Dende. Instead, she suggested that he convince Mame to return to the Lookout with them, in part because Eschalot was there. There was little deception in this: that was exactly where Bulma was going, and as far as she knew, Eschalot was still there. She simply did not say aloud that she would feel much safer around Whis.
Mame appeared suspicious of the offer, and only agreed after he had confirmed that he could indeed sense Eschalot in the direction they'd indicated. A task that apparently became much easier for some, when West Kaioshin and Dende both became rather alarmed.
"What is it? What's wrong?" Bulma asked.
"I know that you cannot sense divine ki, Bulma-sama," West Kaioshin said slowly. "But we can, and... it is now clear that Eschalot was not misleading you about one thing. She really is qualified to teach Cell about transformations."
Vegeta had wasted no time in confirming his suspicion about Eschalot. He began the fight in Super Saiya-jin Blue, and to no great surprise, she did the same. And it was clear from the way she handled herself in that form that she was no stranger to it. No, if Vegeta had to guess, he would have said that she was more comfortable in that form than he was. He now felt certain: her tail had not been blue when she was born with it, but instead had gradually turned that color to reflect the state that she was most comfortable in.
And there was something else, something puzzling and concerning: Eschalot didn't fight like a Saiya-jin, or not only like one, anyway. In her combat style, Vegeta saw signs of not only his influence, but that of several others. Either she had many teachers, or just one that exposed her to a large variety of styles. But it wasn't something she would have learned from any Saiya-jin. Most worrying of all, he recognized many of the styles, and the idea that Eschalot had trained with a different person to gain each one of them grew less and less likely. Thus, the likelihood that she had trained with only one person to gain them all, and that Vegeta knew precisely who that one person was, grew stronger with every passing second.
"Cell," he growled with certainty, bringing the fight to an abrupt halt. "You've been taught by Cell, haven't you?"
Eschalot merely nodded.
"How is this possible? How was he not destroyed by Kakarot's son?"
Eschalot blinked. "Son? Kakarot has sons here?"
Vegeta froze. If there was no Gohan, that would explain why Cell hadn't been defeated. "What are you saying? That where you come from, Kakarot has no children?"
"No, he has them," Eschalot confirmed. "They just aren't sons."
Vegeta's eyes widened. Kakarot had daughters? That was... surprising. But if Vegeta's own daughter had turned out this strong, then surely Kakarot's children, despite their gender being different, would still have some amount of strength. Unless Eschalot's world was more different than he realized. "Tell me. Who is Kakarot in your world?"
"Commander of the Royal Guard, and your most trusted subordinate."
"He gained that position through his strength?"
Eschalot shrugged. "Partially. He inherited it from his father, who inherited it from his father. Their family have always been guardsmen, as far as I know. But they've also always been second in power only to our family, so it's not like there was anyone better for the job."
"Then his girls are strong?"
"Strong enough to spar with me. And there's no chance of anyone but the oldest inheriting Kakarot's job."
Vegeta frowned. "What about Raditz?"
"He said being in charge wasn't for him. Would rather take orders from his little brother than have to deal with all the headaches that Kakarot does."
"And Kakarot's wife?"
"You mean Tarachi?"
"Who?" Vegeta demanded.
Eschalot shrugged. "That's her name. Or it is now."
Vegeta almost asked, but then realized he didn't need to. It wasn't a hard concept for him to grasp. If the Saiya-jin had come to Earth and won, they would have wiped out the population. But if they happened to come across any humans that might make pleasing mates, the first thing they would take away is their names. And if Kakarot were just as soft in that world, surely he would allow his wife to keep part of her old name.
"I would have you tell me more of your world, later," Vegeta said.
Eschalot nodded. "I would ask the same of you, my king. It seems this time is different from what our records indicated. Perhaps I made a mistake in my calculations."
"I doubt that very much." At Eschalot's questioning look, he snorted. "You are Bulma's daughter," he said simply. His confidence in Bulma's intelligence, and that it had been passed on to their daughter, was clear.
Eschalot's eyes widened for a moment, but then she nodded. "She is also... different from what I expected. The same in some ways, but... still different."
"Have you... met your younger self?" Vegeta asked awkwardly.
Eschalot blinked. "Ah. No. I don't think it... well, I have never been good with children. I was only exposed to Kakarot's brood growing up, and that only worked out because they are notoriously tough to damage. Blows to the head don't seem to phase them at all."
Vegeta shook his head slightly. "Your mother... Bulma... would insist that you meet Bra, I think."
Eschalot looked briefly terrified, then confused. "But, my king, surely you do not-?"
"You will meet her," Vegeta said firmly. "For just a moment. After that, you can tell me about your mother."
Eschalot didn't look like she wanted to agree to either order, but she finally bowed to him. "As you command, my king." And as Vegeta flew past her, heading for Capsule Corp, a tiny smirk appeared on Eschalot's face for a moment, before she allowed her slightly resentful expression to resurface and flew after him.
Away from the Lookout. Away from the two potential team members who still trained within the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, that Vegeta still did not know the identities of.
Just as Eschalot had planned all along.
Seconds after West Kaioshin trasported herself, Bulma, Dende, and Mame to the Lookout, they got a rather bad shock as Goku appeared just in front of them.
"Hey, guys!" he greeted, then paused. "Dende, you've got a friend! A cousin visiting from Namek, maybe?"
It was worth noting that Mame was not at all alarmed by a Saiya-jin appearing abruptly in front of him. If anything, he seemed somewhat puzzled by Goku's choice of clothing.
"Uh... something like that," Dende murmured. "Did you need something, Goku?"
"Oh, yeah!" Goku held out a piece of paper. "Um, Android 18 wrote down Android 17's address for me, but, I'm not really sure where this place is..."
Bulma frowned as she snatched the paper from him. "And why do you need to find him?" she snapped. It was, of course, a chance for Goku to come clean about hiding the news about the Tournament of Power from them.
Naturally, he didn't take it. In no small part because Bulma was already visibly angry, but she had been too annoyed to take that into account. "Uh, just wanted to catch up, see how he was doing," Goku lied, laughing uneasily.
"And you think Dende has nothing better to do than look up an address for you?"
Goku blinked slowly. "Well, I figure it's pretty much impossible for him to get lost on a planet he's responsible for..."
Glaring at him, Bulma pulled out her phone, mashed a few buttons on it, and in seconds had a map on screen. "It's not even that complicated. Here, take my phone. The map function works just like the Dragon Radar. It zooms in when you get close, so you don't even have to press anything." After a beat she added, "DON'T PRESS ANYTHING."
"Okay, okay!" Goku cried as she threw the phone at him. "Geez, you're in a rotten mood today, Bulma!"
She very nearly snapped at him, but caught herself. "I just had a baby, in case you forgot. I'm allowed to be a little emotional for reasons beyond your understanding!"
"Oh, that. So that's a real thing? I was thinking Chi-Chi just made it up when Gohan was born, but I guess not. Well, I'll stay out of your way, then." Goku vanished before she could respond.
Mame was staring at Bulma with new respect in his gaze. He muttered something to Dende, who translated. "He's amazed that you aren't afraid of the Saiya-jin."
Bulma frowned. "Ask him if he knows Eschalot's mother."
Dende did. "He does, and while she does not agree with everything the Saiya-jin do, she would never dare to openly defy them. Not a second time, at least."
"What happened the first time?"
Even when Dende asked, Mame gave no reply. But Bulma could tell from his expression: he wasn't refusing to answer. He just didn't want to give voice to what had been done to that Bulma as punishment. And that did not make this Bulma eager to get the details.
Just then, Popo appeared and hurried toward them. "I'm afraid there was a bit of a situation. Vegeta arrived, intending to train here, but of course the Hyperbolic Time Chamber was still in use. However, Eschalot had apparently finished her training with Cell, and emerged first, leaving Cell and Pikkon inside to finish while she distracted Vegeta."
"Then Vegeta doesn't know who is inside?" Bulma asked worriedly.
"It does not appear so. After sparring briefly with Eschalot, he decided to leave, and she accompanied him."
"That confirms it. Under no circumstances would Vegeta leave if he knew. Eschalot is smarter than I gave her credit for. I wish I could be proud, but that makes her all the more dangerous, until we know exactly why she's really here."
"Well, I'm pretty sure I know where she and Vegeta are going," West Kaioshin added. "I can sense their energy. They're headed for Capsule Corp. Should we follow them?"
"Some of us have to," Bulma sighed. "We did promise that we'd take Mame to Eschalot, and we still need Dende to translate. I'm also worried about what Eschalot might be planning for my family." She turned to Popo. "I'm sorry, but until Cell and Pikkon are done, can I ask you to distract anyone who comes here wanting to use the Hyperbolic Time Chamber?"
"That shouldn't be a problem," Popo replied. "Whis-san estimates they should be done in a few minutes.
"I think we should bring Cell to Capsule Corp when he's done. Eschalot should want to help us keep Cell hidden from the others, and failing that, protect him when they do find out. Not that he should need protection if this goes well, but it's probably best to avoid a fight."
"On the other hand," West Kaioshin murmured, "you know they'll be firmly against Cell, and surely one of the reasons they'll try to use is that he isn't strong enough. So if they can see firsthand that he is..."
Bulma grimaced. "Yes, but the problem is in making sure it doesn't go beyond a sparring match. I'm sure Whis could handle it, but I feel like we're asking too much of him as it is. Between Bra's birth, going to Hell, and now having to keep an eye on things up here-"
"You need not worry yourself," Whis interrupted as he emerged from the Lookout. "I am quite up to the task and willing to help out." He was followed at a distance by Pikkon and - Bulma did a double-take because it was the last thing she was expecting to see - Imperfect Cell.
"W-What happened to him?!" Bulma shrieked.
Cell smirked and said nothing.
Whis sighed. "Do not worry, Pikkon assures me that the training was very successful. Cell has mastered all the necessary transformations. In doing so, however, he has gained an appreciation for forms that do not waste energy. So for the time being, he will remain in his Imperfect form. This will no doubt lead to some underestimating his power, which is an added bonus. Trust me, he is more than capable of defending himself from anyone currently living on this planet."
Bulma looked at Cell again. He didn't seem at all concerned. And she could not imagine that he would look that way while in his Imperfect form if he were stuck in it. So Whis was most likely correct in everything he'd said. "Well, if you're sure, then I guess we should get going."
Mrs. Briefs was humming softly, slowly rocking baby Bra in her arms when Vegeta entered the nursery. "Oh, Vegeta! Welcome home!" she said in a loud whisper, clearly trying not to disturb her new granddaughter. "Did the proud Papa come to check on his sweet little girl?"
Vegeta paused and glanced uncertainly at the door he'd just entered through. "About that... we have some family business to address."
After a long pause, someone else entered. At the sight of the person, Mrs. Briefs was so shocked that she actually opened her eyes fully. She was looking at a teenaged version of Bulma.
"This is Eschalot," Vegeta said, gesturing to the girl. "Our daughter from the future. The person that Bra might have grown up to be, if not for... certain changes." He turned to Eschalot. "Eschalot, this Bulma's mother... your grandmother."
Eschalot frowned and slowly stepped forward, bowing respectfully. "Hello, obaa-san. I am-"
"Oh, she's just adorable!" Mrs. Briefs squealed, startling both Vegeta and Eschalot. In an instant, Vegeta found himself holding Bra, and Eschalot stiffened as Mrs. Briefs gave her an enthusiastic hug. "I still remember when Bulma was at this age, running around and getting into all sorts of crazy adventures!" Mrs. Briefs paused to take a good look at Eschalot. "You're in much better shape than she was then, though. You must get plenty of exercise! I hope I can still tempt you to stay and have some tea with your baa-chan?"
Eschalot gaped at her. "I... um, no. I only came here to... that is, I am supposed to meet-"
"Oh, you must want to meet Bra-chan!" Instantly, Bra was back in the arms of Mrs. Briefs, and Vegeta was staring at his empty arms in astonishment. Eschalot had no more time to ponder that, because suddenly her arms were full of baby.
Bra was a very easygoing baby, and liked almost everyone, with the notable exceptions of Yamcha and Mr. Satan. Vegeta personally felt she had good reason in both cases. So it was perfectly reasonable to expect that she would like Eschalot.
Bra, perhaps sensing she was no longer in the familiar arms of her grandmother or father, slowly opened her eyes, and stared up into Eschalot's uneasy face. Bra blinked a few times, perhaps puzzled at seeing a younger version of her mother, and even odder, one that was not smiling at her. After a few more seconds of this, Bra came to an abrupt decision.
She howled. Not cried, as she had done several times already, but howled, as if crying was simply not adequate enough to express how displeased she was at the moment.
Eschalot grimaced, but made no move to return the baby. She seemed resigned to her fate.
Vegeta looked ten times as irritated by Bra's shrieking, and just as powerless.
Mrs. Briefs merely watched, hoping things might improve on their own.
They didn't.
Bra howled for the entire five minutes that Eschalot held her, and Eschalot made no effort to fix the situation.
Finally, Mrs. Briefs stepped forward and lifted Bra out of Eschalot's arms. The second Bra caught sight of her grandmother, the howling ceased, replaced by a few whimpers, and soon even that faded as Bra settled down and fell asleep. When she was sure that Bra was calm, Mrs. Briefs handed the baby to Vegeta. Then she turned to Eschalot, and got a nasty shock.
She had expected Eschalot to look embarrassed, or frustrated, or in some way visibly upset at what had just happened. But if Bra was truly Vegeta's daughter in that she did not hold back her opinion of people, then Eschalot was truly Vegeta's daughter in that she simply did not care what a baby thought of her. Or at least, not a baby that was supposedly herself. Because the expression currently on Eshcalot's face said just that: she didn't care about what had just happened. Because she didn't care about Bra, at all.
It wasn't right, and it couldn't stand. But Mrs. Briefs knew there was no way to make the teenager simply start caring about a baby. At the same time, she was not about to let anyone with Bulma's face walk around not caring about her family.
So Mrs. Briefs did the only thing she could. She walked up to Eschalot, looked her in the eye... and gave her another hug. But this time, she also reached up and gently stroked Eschalot's long braid. "It's okay, Escha-chan," she murmured into the girl's ear. "You and Bra-chan just need to get used to each other, that's all. But even if she can't accept you right now, I do. I'm glad you're here. You're always welcome to come and have some tea with your baa-chan, never forget that."
Eschalot said nothing, nor did the stiffness in her body fade even the slightest bit. But when Mrs. Briefs finally let her go, Eschalot no longer looked as if she didn't care. She looked like she didn't understand. But even that was an improvement.
"We... have some things to discuss in private," Vegeta said after an awkward moment. He carefully placed Bra in her bassinet, adjusting the blanket several times until he was sure that she was comfortable.
Eschalot look relieved that they were leaving. She turned to Mrs. Briefs, hesitated, and bowed again. "I apologize... baa-chan, but I must leave-"
Mrs. Briefs leaned in and tenderly placed a kiss on Eschalot's cheek. "Come back any time, dear."
Eschalot stared at her, unable to form a response. She now looked less confused and more frightened than anything else. Finally, she turned and all but fled from the nursery, with Vegeta following her.
Although Vegeta needed no further convincing, it was the way that Eschalot and Bra reacted to each other that made him certain they were both his daughters, albeit from very different worlds.
If asked, Vegeta could not say what it was about Eschalot that disturbed Bra, only that there had to be good reason for it. Bra hadn't been wrong yet. And even as a baby, Trunks had never reacted to the future version of himself so negatively for so long.
In true Saiya-jin style, Eschalot didn't care one bit how a baby felt about her, and was glad to be done with the experience. She was only too happy to move to another room and tell Vegeta about her mother.
The story was about what he'd expected: in that world, Bulma had still been trying to gather the Dragon Balls when the Saiya-jin arrived on Earth. She planned to alter Earth's atmosphere so that it was still safe for humans, but poisonous to Saiya-jin. She never actually found out if that was even possible: Vegeta caught her before she could summon the dragon. Instead of being enraged, he was impressed, and allowed her the honor of becoming his first wife. Bulma refused, but hadn't been shy about telling him where he could put his offer. So the next time that Vegeta offered, Bulma was bleeding and trying to pick herself up off of the ground, and wife was no longer on the table, but the options of concubine or a slow death were. Bulma was a lot more careful in how she answered that time.
Nothing about the story shocked Vegeta. In that world, because the Saiya-jin worked directly for Beerus, they were ranked specifically by their maximum power at any point, not their power at birth. So Kakarot had not been passed over as a weakling, and instead was recognized as he rapidly developed into Vegeta's most trusted soldier. The Earth invasion party consisted solely of the two of them, and each had found an Earthling maiden to take home. Apparently Chi-Chi had been much more of a martial artist in that world, but all that meant was that she'd been one of a handful of Earthlings that tried to fight Kakarot. Obviously she had lost, but in such a way that Kakarot was sure she could give him strong children. The discovery that she was also an excellent cook had only come later, when she saw the way that Saiya-jin prepared, or rather didn't prepare, their food.
Vegeta had noticed, however, the difference in the way Eschalot talked about Bulma and Chi-Chi, or Tarachi, as she was now called. Bulma's very name seemed to be a source of annoyance or embarrasment to Eschalot at times. But Eschalot sounded almost fond of Tarachi, and Vegeta was not too surprised by that. Between being a fighter and a good cook, what was not to like about Tarachi? It sounded very much like she was Kakarot's wife, not his concubine, so that was something else to consider. Bulma had spat on that possibility, more than likely directly in that Vegeta's face, if his hunch was right. She was lucky he hadn't killed her then and there. Even so, Vegeta could not imagine his own proud wife flourishing in such a situation. He tried to imagine what Bulma would look like: beaten, her spirit crushed, the ever-present spark of invention and adventure gone from her eyes.
He couldn't do it. That woman wouldn't be his Bulma. Rather, he would never be attracted to such a woman, not for more than one night, at least.
But of course, that other Vegeta couldn't know what he was missing. And Vegeta already suspected that he would never see Bra turn into someone like Eschalot. They were too different already, or their worlds and parents were. And maybe, for Bra's sake, that wasn't a bad thing.
Bulma had already known that her next encounter with Eschalot would not be a pleasant one, and she was exactly right. Eschalot did not look happy at the interruption, but she at least said nothing and only nodded to Bulma. Bulma felt she only did that much because of Vegeta's presence.
But any feelings Eschalot was concealing bubbled to the surface the second that Mame hurried into the room, paused to bow deeply to her, and then jabbered away at her.
In a language that was neither Namekian, nor native to Earth, Bulma realized with a sinking feeling. She only needed to glance at Dende for confirmation: he couldn't translate. She had vastly underestimated both Eschalot and Mame.
Eschalot briefly looked furious. Mame's presence there at all plainly spelled out that Bulma had gone behind her back and exposed her secrets. But she seemed to recall that Vegeta was in the room and attempted to get a handle on her emotions. This was especially true when she noticed West Kaioshin standing behind Bulma. There was enough recognition there that Eschalot definitely had experience dealing with gods.
Abruptly, Eschalot raised her hand, and Mame immediately fell silent. "Kaa-san," Eschalot said slowly, staring at Bulma. "Since you are so intent on learning about me, without my permission, would you allow me to store my time machine here for the duration of my visit?"
"Um... sure," Bulma replied. She was amazed that was all Eschalot had to say on the matter.
Eschalot nodded and motioned to Mame, who instantly stood at attention. "I have entrusted the safekeeping of my time machine to Mame. You need only indicate to him an appropriate location."
Bulma suddenly felt like a fool. Of course Mame wouldn't have just left the time machine unattended and gone off with a bunch of strangers. It had to be in capsule form, and he had it on his person somewhere.
It stung, the degree to which Bulma had underestimated Eschalot. But with it came a sort of grudging pride: Eschalot was a Briefs, after all.
Although Bulma never advertised the fact, Capsule Corp was absolutely covered in hidden security cameras. Of course, nobody outside of her family ever watched them, for security reasons.
So even though Bulma arrived home only a few minutes after Vegeta did, and Eschalot did not seem to have done any damage, Bulma watched the footage. She saw how Eschalot and Bra reacted to each other. And that worried her.
More importantly, Bulma saw how her mother and Eschalot reacted to each other. And it made her smile. There was still hope.
She also heard Eschalot tell Vegeta about the other Bulma. Bulma couldn't help but notice the differences between the ways that Eschalot's mother and Tarachi had become part of the Saiya-jin Empire. It sounded like in another world, even without the head injury during childhood that changed him, Goku was still a big softie at heart, and Vegeta... really wasn't. But it sounded like that was because his Bulma hadn't had the heart to keep standing up to him and change him for the better. And based on what Mame had implied, Bulma felt there had to be more than just a slap to it, unless they simply didn't make Briefs girls of sterner stuff in that world.
But there was something else Bulma saw, and it worried her. In one of the lesser used labs, whose access was so restricted that only Bulma could open the door from the outside, she watched Eschalot, Mame, and Cell conversing. In Namekian. Which Bulma was no closer to mastering than she had been all those years ago. It simply hadn't proven necessary after their return from Namek: Dende was the only Namek she talked to regularly, and he had made a point to master several of Earth's languages. And it didn't shock her that Cell could speak Namekian. Perhaps he had inherited that along with Piccolo's cells. Perhaps his body had deemed that knowledge worthy and absorbed it. Or perhaps Eschalot had had plently of time to teach Cell more than just transformations in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, specifically so they could converse in a little-known language that Bulma hadn't mastered.
There were just too many possibilities with Eschalot, and no way that Bulma could prepare for all of them at once. Really, it was hard enough just sneaking Cell into Capsule Corp and keeping him hidden. Trunks and Goten were often underfoot, bumbling into areas it shouldn't have been likely for them to get into. Chi-Chi seemed to find a new room every other hour in her eternal search for yet another pantry, and Bulma couldn't blame her, with all the Saiya-jin and bottomless gods she was constantly feeding. Not to mention, Bulma had a very hard time explaining to Vegeta and her mother why Eschalot required a bedroom that neither of them were allowed to know the location of or visit her in. But she had convinced them to leave it alone, somehow, although on the condition that Eschalot came out to spend time with each of them. Bulma really had very little control over that, but based on what she'd seen, did not think Eschalot would turn either of them down if confronted directly.
Goku gave Android 17 a parting wave, which was somewhat returned in the form of a clipped nod, and then launched himself into the sky. "That's one more person for the team," Goku murmured. "Now I just need to talk to Master Roshi and Tien, and we'll have a full set of ten!" He grinned at the thought seeing his old friends again. "I bet they'll be surprised to see me!"
Continued in Eschalot's Dragon: Part 2
The Universe 7 team gathers at Capsule Corp, only to discover that Bulma has some last-minute roster changes. They aren't popular, but no one can claim that they aren't fit to compete.
Endnotes:
In keeping with Saiya-jin names having a vegetable theme: Sansai are wild-picked vegetables, Mame are beans. Tarachi is a twist on tara no me, the angelica tree.
Can You Die When Dead: There are two different ideas presented in the series on this. One is that if you're already dead, and you die again in Hell, you instantly reform and keep doing so no matter how many times you die. GT supports this. The other is that if you die anywhere else while dead (though that is difficult to manage), you're gone forever. DBZ supports this. We only see the two Kaioshin that Majin Buu killed (not absorbed) in flashbacks. So the theory I'm using is that he killed them, they returned with halos, and he killed them again, thus destroying them forever. And thanks to Old Kaioshin, we know it is possible for a Kaioshin to die and return with a halo, at least when they take their own life. So it would also make sense that Zamasu and Goku Black double-killed all the gods they slayed, since only killing them once would just give them a halo and leave them free to fight back or warn others. Which apparently did not happen.
How Strong Cell Can Get: There are two things I take into account when figuring this.
1) Cell's body learns new combat techniques just by him either witnessing or being in close proximity to them. So fighting him with anything he doesn't know is really no different from teaching it to him, or more precisely, carving it into his body. And it isn't even something he does consciously, his cells do this automatically.
2) Frieza surpassed Super Saiya-jin Blue in power with his first, and only, attempt at training, in just four months. Judging by their origins and relationship, Cell should always outclass Frieza in power by a considerable amount. So Cell should be able to quickly restore the status quo of himself being the stronger one with the same or less effort. And I do see a parallel between Frieza's golden form and Ascended Saiya-jin form: all the power wasted on reaching a higher state, when a lesser state would prove more effective when truly mastered. Though in Frieza's case, it was that he hadn't mastered the higher state. I think Cell is smart enough not to make the same mistake. Especially since he has made it before and presumably learned from it.
I did not just make Eschalot all-powerful. Rather, I gave her a set of optimal circumstances to grow in. Consider: a timeline where, instead of Beerus getting annoyed with the Saiya-jin, he instead got annoyed at Frieza for some offense and killed him. In the interest of self-preservation, the Saiya-jin swear to serve Beerus directly. I know, Beerus said he didn't like the Saiya-jin, but I also think he didn't stop to consider that if he had a bunch of henchmen willing and able to blow things up on his behalf, that would allow him much more time to sleep and pig out. And maybe Whis pointed that out in this version. Now, as I stated, Saiya-jin are judged by their maximum power. As such, Vegeta would want his children to be as strong as possible. Which means between Vegeta's genes, Cell's training, and Whis working more closely with the Saiya-jin, those kids are going to be some of the strongest in the empire. The end result being that Eschalot has indeed obtained Blue, and nearly all forms previous. And it shouldn't take much thought to realize what form she's missing. But more on that next chapter.