Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball.
Betaed by: Zim'sMostLoyalServant and my best friend.
Special Thanks: To Bobdude17's "Launch Time" once more for inspiring this fic. If you haven't checked it out yet please do so.
Last Time on Dragon Ball IJ:
The second hunt for the Dragon Balls is on!
The sadistic Colonel Silver of the Red Ribbon was on the hunt for a Dragon Ball. But this bully found himself punching above his weight class after blasting the Nimbus out from under Goku and Lunch. But their victory was soured a bit by the revelation that the Dragon Ball was not the sought after Four Star Ball.
But Colonel Silver was just the tip of the iceberg of evil that is the Red Ribbon Army. Showing their wickedness, Silver was sentenced to death for his failure by the ruthless Commander Red. While spared by the underhanded actions of Staff Officer Black, Silver is now destined for the operating table as a guinea pig!
And now, Red Ribbon High Command has alerted their White Corps of our heroes' approach! What awaits our heroes in this next clash?! Find out today, on Dragon Ball Intended Journey!
Chapter Four
Jingle All the Way to Battle
Beware Yule Riptides
General White looked out from the top of Muscle Tower at the snowy valley that was the heart of his sector. Miserable as this stretch of land was, there was still immense satisfaction in knowing he ruled absolutely over it. Well, he supposed he had to admit the Commander held authority over it via authority over him, but so long as he did what was expected of him, the Commander was not about to micromanage.
Turning his back on the predawn light illuminating the snow and pine trees, he turned back to the command center that occupied the top of Muscle Tower. Normally, the place didn't sleep, being abuzz with the noncombatants acting as the nerve center of White Corp. Right now, though, he was alone save for three uniformed minor officers at their stations.
"This had better go smoothly, lieutenants, or you'll be joining your peers in the Dragon Ball unit, without coats," the General warned. He'd cleared out all nonessential staff for the tower's security to take part in the Dragon Ball hunt. Naturally, he was essential to tasks other than digging through snow and frost crusted dirt and wood; most everyone else wasn't.
'These Dragon Balls had better be worth disrupting my operation for,' he thought. Though he supposed it mattered little; the Commander wanted them to pack up and abandon this site to regroup for future operations elsewhere. At least this way he got some use out of the lazy ungrateful bumpkins in Jingle Village and the other pathetic hamlets before wiping them out, he thought, taking another sip of his coffee.
"We've got a hit!" one of the terminal operators said. White rushed over to the terminal, looking at the radar screen, not acknowledging spilling some of his hot coffee on the subordinate.
"One of ours?" he demanded of the bleep marking an aircraft advancing toward their area.
"Seems to be, impossible to know for sure. But our fighters don't usually operate alone like that. It matches the warning of a hijacked aircraft."
"You aren't paid to think. You! Send the hailing code. I'm not going to be penalized for shooting down a surprise inspector or something," White commanded, pointing to the communication officer.
"Yessir! Attention aircraft, this is WCHQ M.T.! We formally request your authorization code," the Red Ribbon soldier said.
The radar continued to beep as the aircraft drew closer, and silence reigned over the radio.
"No response. Alright then, bring them down," White chuckled, turning his attention to the final grunt before a panel of switches covered in plastic domes.
"Right now, sir?"
"No, let 'em get well within the valley. We need to retrieve the bodies, and more importantly the Dragon Ball."
"Yes sir," the officer said with a salute as he turned a key to unlock the domes and flipped one up, while adjusting other controls, "The Sector Five AA is ready to deploy, they only await the green light to bring the boogie down."
The radio had static come in over it, and a gravely but feminine voice came over it amidst the static.
"Is this thing on? Was someone trying to talk?" she asked.
"Sir, they are entering your desired range."
White smiled and picked up a speaker from its hanger in the communications array.
"This is General White. I would advise you to brace for turbulence on your way to the Other World," White said, before nodding to his men.
A switch was flipped, and the voice on the other end let out a rather impressive stream of profanity before cutting off in static. He glanced back to the radar screen and grinned widely as the blip vanished.
"Well done! You can all wear your coats while joining the Dragon Ball hunt. Dispatch a tank to the crash site. Their first priority is the Dragon Ball, but tell them they'll get a bonus for verifiable remains of both hostiles."
"But sir, what if it turns out it wasn't the duo that Commander Red is after?"
"Then it will be a most unfortunate situation for you three," White said simply.
A phone rang in his own office, prompting White to leave the three and enter his own workspace. It was dominated by his gun collection on the walls, and a portrait of himself in dress uniform. The closest thing to a normal decoration was the double frame holding pictures of his little sisters on the desktop. Picking up the white phone, he answered. "General White."
"General, what was that firing just now, are we under attack?" a woman spoke on the other end. White rolled his eyes, this voice needing no introduction.
"How do you know that, doctor?" he demanded.
"I monitor all your systems, because you uniforms seem to delight in never telling us anything," she said plainly.
"A minor matter. You stick with your lab, and I will worry about military operations."
"Seeing as I'm potentially in the line of fire for military operations, I'd say it's my worry."
"Oh please, your son was in the field when he took one to the dome. Your lab's practically a bunker. If you're still afraid, why don't you hang up your lab coat and go home to make your husband a roast or something," the General mocked. There was a click as the egghead in the basement hung up.
"Heh, bad enough that the metal men aren't working as advertised, but Gero sending his entitled trophy wife is just insult to injury," White remarked.
"Sir, is it a good idea to provoke the scientist who can build murder robots?" one of the lieutenants asked, already in his coat as he paused outside the open office door.
"I told you, you're not paid to think!" White snapped, sending the man running.
X X X
The tank made its way through the snow at a brisk clip, the treads easily traversing the frozen terrain while they made their way past the stands of pine trees that were the only color in this wintery landscape.
"I heard after we find this Dragon Ball, the Commander is pulling us out," the foxman who was serving as lookout and gunner said. The tank's interior got quite hot, an annoyance in hot climes but a boon here; even in their winter uniforms, a bit of sweat was a fair price for relief from the cold.
"Thank Enma for that," the pale human driving the tank said, without taking his eyes from the viewing slits, "Nothing around here but villages that no one from anywhere important would bother to remember. They don't even have arcades, much less anything for adult fun. What the Commander really needs is to conquer a big city. Now imagine that for leave."
The foxman shook his head, scanning the landscape.
"I don't need big city fun times, just send me a place where it's warm more of the year than not and I'll be happy. Huh, we should be seeing the wreck soon," he said, checking his clipboard with both a map and a hastily scrawled note of the coordinates for the downed aircraft.
"Those desk-jockeys never believe their precious instruments could be wrong. We'll probably be at this all day. Not that I'm complaining; beats looking for magic rocks," the driver said.
"Hey pal, watch the tone! If any higher-ups think you're making fun of the Commander, there will be all of HFIL to pay. Also, the General is getting more angry than usual, so I hope we do find it quickly. I wouldn't want to end up someone else's motivatio- STOP!" the gunner yelled. The tank ground to a halt, and the gunner popped the latch to scurry outside and kneel on top of the turret.
"Looks like a smoke plume," he said, before getting out a pair of binoculars, "Yes, that's the wreck!"
He scrambled back inside, and grabbed the radio receiver and flipped it on, adjusting to the right channel.
"General, this is RRAA WC-15, we have located the wreck and are en route to investigate," he reported.
"Excellent. I will be dispatching additional patrols to assist. Remember, the Dragon Ball is your first priority. You'll be staying out there until doomsday, or until you find the Dragon Ball. But the corpses get you a bonus," the General told them, before hanging up.
X X X
"What a mess," the driver said, joining the gunner on the snow-covered ground. The plane was in two pieces, the tail having come off it on impact and a wing missing entirely, with the rest having skidded, creating a trench not only in the snow but the dirt underneath.
"Well, let's get to it, start from the wreck and work our way out," the gunner said. Any fires had gone out, even the smoke dispersing now. The only evidence was melted snow.
Soon enough, the driver called out. The gunner rushed over and saw his partner hauling a figure in orange out from under a piece of debris and a snowdrift. Glancing at the wreck, he grunted.
"She must have gotten thrown clear out on the impact, I guess."
"Poor bastards in the air corps don't get ejection seats, I hear," the driver said, flipping her over to show a blonde woman with a bruise on her brow and a few cuts on her face. He thought she was pretty, but human women had never been his strong suit on judging.
"Well, that's a bonus, or half of one. But I'm pretty sure we're still in the frying pan until we find the Dragon Ball."
"Yeah, but good sign, right? Guess I'll throw this in the trunk, hope she doesn't stink it up too bad," the driver said, grabbing the corpse by the ankles to haul off.
They both screamed when the corpse stirred.
"Crap, she's still alive!?" the gunner shouted.
"No way, no one survives a plane crash! Her bones should be a jigsaw puzzle!"
Despite all these arguments of a dubiously-informed nature, the woman blinked and pushed herself up on her elbow.
"Goku?" she asked.
"Well, the General specified corpses, not prisoners," the driver said, chambering a round.
"Right! Make Swiss cheese out of her," the gunner nodded, bringing his own gun to bear.
The woman glared at them, and rolled to the side swiftly as they opened fire.
"What?!" the gunner said, before she punched him in the face and knocked him off his feet.
"Oh crap!" the driver shouted, turning around only to have the rifle backhanded out of his hands.
"Where's Goku?" she demanded, grabbing him by the collar and lifting him off the ground.
"Who?"
She punched him in the face, and darkness came over him.
X X X
Suno was just a kid and she knew it, but her parents had taught the little redhead the signs of the weather among her earliest memories. She knew full well a blizzard was coming down on the valley. Whether it was a brief whiteout or a long unwelcome guest that would force the whole village to dig out of their houses like moles, she knew it was a danger not to be taken lightly.
Even so, she never considered abandoning her precious loot.
And sure enough, years of pulling her weight in chores had paid off. Even dragging a boy her size by the ankles, she had made it home before the storm had fully set in. Letting his chilled legs drop to the snow, Suno pounded on her door with only a snowman sentry adorned with a literal bucket helmet bearing witness.
"Mom! It's me! Open up, please!" Suno called, pounding her fists on the door. The days were long past that you could leave your door unlocked in Jingle Village, or any of the other villages for that matter.
The door opened and a stout dark-haired woman in a matronly dress looked out and smiled before adopting a concerned look.
"Suno, a blizzard is rising, why didn't you come back sooner?" her mother asked. Suno smiled under her tall fur hat and stepped aside to point to her frosty prize.
"I found a boy, Mom. Can I keep him?" Suno asked excitedly.
"Oh dear! Did the Red Ribbon do this?" her mother said, stepping out and picking up the stiff boy.
X X X
"A plane crash?" her mother asked, stepping back from where the boy was propped by the fire. Her mother had done everything in their lore to forestall any damage from the cold before setting him by the fire with a warm towel on his head.
Theirs was just a capsule house, like most of the newer houses in the village, but it was decorated in the local style, with wall hangings of local patterns and an emphasis on wood-carved furniture and even a few guns hung on the walls to symbolize a hunter heritage. Suno had shed her heavy coat for a sweater chosen for cuteness.
"Uh huh! I saw the Red Ribbon shoot it down and went to see."
"That was very dangerous!"
"But if the Red Ribbon was shooting at him, he's not their friend. Maybe he could be ours."
"Now Suno, it's not likely a boy like this was on his own. Poor dear, it's a miracle he survived, he's going to wake to bad news."
"But can we keep him? I found him in the snow like you did with Dad, so that means we can be friends and get married someday, right?" Suno asked chipperly, hands clasped and eyes sparkling.
"Suno, I knew your father before that. And, well, a girl should get to know a boy first as a friend before thinking of anything else," her mother blushed. Neither of them noticing the boy stirring on the chair he was propped in.
"Aw! Well, that's alright. Most of the kids here are either too young or too old to be my friend. He should be just right though."
"Dear, if he's able, it might be best to just help him on his way. I'd hate for someone else to get mixed up in our problems."
The boy's groaning drew their attention.
"Ow, Launch, I think you need to learn how to dodge better," he muttered, rubbing his head.
"You're awake!" Suno said, rushing past her mother, practically jumping up onto the chair with the boy.
"Yeah, that was the worst nap ever, I think. Who are you?" he asked her.
"I'm Suno. You're in my house in Jingle Village."
"I'm Goku. What happened to Launch and the plane?" Goku asked looking around.
"Your plane got shot down. The Red Ribbon were all chuka chuka chika, bam boom bam boom. Then the plane went skreee whoosh badoom!" Suno mimed the guns and the plane's crash.
"Suno! Be a bit more sensitive," her mother sad, frowning at her excited daughter. But Goku just nodded.
"Yeah, that sounds right. Turns out Launch isn't good at dodging in an airplane. Is she here?" Goku asked, looking around, bypassing Suno to jump off the chair.
"No, I only saw you and wanted to get you to safety before the Red Ribbon showed up so we could be friends, then good friends, best friends, and then married," Suno told him.
"Oh thanks, but Chichi already promised to get me a marriage. And I think Launch said you can only get one from one girl at a time. It was kind of weird and I'm not sure she knew what she was talking about," Goku reflected, while Suno pouted, getting off the chair.
"Suno, give him some space. We're both sorry about losing your friend," her mother broke in.
"Not to worry, knowing Launch, she'll find me soon. Does this village have a diner?" Goku asked.
'The poor boy is in denial. I suppose it's to be expected,' the housewife thought.
'Get him a wedding? So is Goku engaged or is Chichi a matchmaker his family contracted?' Suno wondered.
"Wait a minute, did you say Red Ribbon Army?" Goku realized.
"Yes, they have a horrid base not far from here called Muscle Tower," the housewife said.
"I can fix you a meal, Goku! My mom taught me how to cook real good," Suno said, running to the kitchen.
"How are you mixed up with the Red Ribbon Army, young man?" the lady of the house asked.
"Well, they attacked me and Lunch after we found this Dragon Ball," Goku said, pulling the Dragon Ball out from his pocket. In the kitchen, pots and pans clattered to the floor before Suno rushed in and her mother took several steps back.
"A Dragon Ball?!" they said together in fear.
"Huh, what's wrong? These aren't scary," Goku pointed out, tossing the ball and catching it easily from the air as proof.
"Ever since General White started looking for those, the Red Ribbon has gone from bad to worse. Bad enough before, we lived under the threat of annihilation if we didn't pay tribute to them. But now he's drafted all the young and middle-aged men to search the valley and hills for a Dragon Ball. He doesn't even let them come home at night, and he's threatened to have anyone else trying to leave their village shot. If he doesn't get what he wants soon, I fear not only will the men start dropping from the cold and fatigue, but he'll toss the women, the children, and even the elders into the cold," Suno's mother explained, looking at the ball as if it could attack.
"I hate General White! He likes to talk big from his tower or on top of those stupid tanks, but he'd never be able to order my dad and the others around if he faced them man-to-man. He's just a big bully with a big tower cause his tower is tiny, my dad says," Suno ranted, fists clenched.
"Enough Suno, never repeat such things. If you took a Dragon Ball from them, I'm afraid you're in for a bad time, Goku. The Red Ribbon is powerful and relentless. It might be best for you to surrender it and run."
"No way! I only want my Grandpa's four-star ball, but I'm not going to let such mean guys get a hold of any Dragon Balls. Huh, maybe that Kernel what's-his-name was looking for this one when we found it?" Goku had a thought whose obviousness almost knocked the two women off their feet.
"Well, we won't turn you over to the Red Ribbon, but it's not safe for you to stay here, Goku. No whining Suno, just because you found a boy half-frozen in the snow doesn't mean he has to be your friend, much less boyfriend."
"Huh, but I'm a boy, what other kind of friend should I be?" Goku asked, tail swaying behind him, Suno smiling and tracking it with her eyes.
"Can I tell him, mom? Please, I'll do it real good like dad did," she begged.
"No! Your father gave you that talk far too soon, my little snow angel," her mother objected, red in the face. How she prayed to the divine Kami above who guarded the Earth for something to distract from this awkward moment among awkward moments.
The Green God of the Lookout may actually have heard that prayer, for at that moment the door was practically kicked off its hinges and a blonde woman half-covered in snow leapt into the house like a cold and unhappy tiger.
"Goku! I'm here to rescue you!" she shouted. The women began to scream, while she blinked in confusion, letting snow in behind her.
"Hi Launch! Suno and her mom are going to fix me something to eat. Not sure if they will for you if you killed their door, though."
Shortly:
All four were now settled at the table, Goku devouring a simple meal crafted from canned food while Launch nursed a coffee, a toolbox next to her on the table. The door had seen far better days, but the cold was mostly being kept out.
Launch snapped her fingers before picking up her coffee cup and taking a sip of the steaming liquid.
"I thought I'd tangled with that outfit before. Yeah, the Red Ribbon, a bunch of class-A pricks. Some of them tried to recruit me to help them plunder, pillage, burn, and all that crap. Told 'em no of course, and saw them off with a lead confetti parade. Bad a girl as I was, I wasn't going to sign away my freedom to follow some stuffed shirt's marching orders. 'Sides, Lunch wouldn't like it even more than she didn't like my crime sprees," Launch admitted.
"Who's Lunch?" Suno asked.
"My other half," Launch said casually. Suno perked up.
"Oh, my dad told me about that too! But I'm pretty sure it's boys I like," Suno said.
"Huh? No. Listen, she's my twin," Launch sputtered. Suno frowned at that and pointed an accusing finger.
"Now that, Daddy said is against the rules. Lots of people in the world you're not related to."
"Oh Suno, when your father gets back, he's really going to get it," her mother sighed, shaking her head. The girl just sparkled, turning in her seat.
"So I'm finally going to be a big sister?!" Launch and her mother both fell out of their seat and Goku just finished his meal.
"Ah, that was nice, a bit small, but sounds like those jerks have been stealing a lot from ya."
"Yeah Goku, what's say we blow this place and just go beat up bad guys, 'kay?" Launch said.
"Sounds good!" Goku grinned.
"Mom, we should give them some coats," Suno said to her poor recovering mother.
X X X
"Ah, much better," Launch said, smacking the coat she was wearing with mitten-covered hands. Goku was likewise bundled up.
"I still say this seems like a bad idea. The most terrifying soldiers of the Red Ribbon are at that tower. I once saw a giant man from there rip a tree out of the ground and toss it aside like nothing," the mother said.
"Really? So, there are some strong ones," Goku grinned.
"Listen lady, we get these guys are a big deal, but we ain't so little ourselves. So which way to the tower?" Launch asked.
"That way. Good luck, come back safe," Suno said, pointing.
X X X
"Get back in the trench," the Red Ribbon sergeant said, cracking his whip at the bundled-up villager standing between him and the area of dug-up snow. Two lower-ranked soldiers stood next to him, rifles hanging by their waists, and nearby a tank was standing watch over the line of work gangs and overseers.
"Can't you people understand? You've had us working out here for over a week now. You barely feed us, and those tents hardly offer any protection from the elements. If you don't start letting at least some of us return to recuperate in our villages, we'll start dropping like flies in autumn," the mustached villager said.
The sergeant pulled a hip flask from his coat pocket, took his time taking a nip, before replacing it and answering.
"And why should that bother us? The way I see it, a few corpses will motivate the rest of you to stop lazing around."
The villager's eyes narrowed and his fists clenched. The guards shifted calmly to hold their guns at the ready, while nearby other villagers had paused to better watch the scene unfolding.
"I imagine you'll care when you run out of villagers to do your dirty work. Your General White won't take our failure as an excuse for yours; it will be you lot grubbing in the dirt and snow or falling out of trees searching for that accursed ball."
"Well, that will take a bit, won't it? If enough of you all die, we'll start bringing the rest of the peasants out to work. We'll start with the kids, I think. Yeah, maybe the sight of the brats freezing their fingers off digging will get you slugs motivated."
The sergeant struck out with his whip, making the villager stumble. The man straightened up and wiped at blood flowing from the abrasion on his cheek with the back of his thumb. A moment spent looking at it, he glared at the sergeant, who laughed.
"You've got spirit, I'll admit! But all the spirit in the world don't mean a thing if you're weak. We've got Jingle Village held hostage; you try anything, and they'll be dead as quick as we decide that you peasants are causing a ruckus. And if that don't work, we'll burn your villages one by one. And if that's not enough, we'll start to get nasty. Back to work," the sergeant commanded, turning and walking away with his escort. The villager looked after him, fists trembling at his side, before slumping and walking back to the dig site. He stepped down, taking an offered hand from a fellow villager and getting a shovel handed to him.
"Way to tell him."
"Wasted energy. You can't reason with these bandits. They'll just do what they want, even if it's bad for them."
"I had to try. …We have no choice, we have to find that ball soon, or the children will suffer. Much as I hate to get the Red Ribbon anything it wants."
"What's it for even, some antique?"
"Don't care, if they want it, can't be good for them to have it. But we have no choice but to give it to them."
The discussion was interrupted when the tank exploded.
The villagers cried out in alarm, hitting the frozen dirt while the soldiers supervising ran about yelling. They heard the sergeant run back with more soldiers following him.
"What happened?! You! Get him up here!" the sergeant yelled as the frightened men looked up. The objector was seized and dragged up from the digging to kneel on top of the stone.
"You had something to do with this!" the sergeant yelled, red in the face beneath his goggles.
"What? How could I-" he protested, before the sergeant punched him across the face.
"Silence! You distracted us with that stupid argument while your pals did something! Well, your families are going to die once I reach a radio, but you'll be there in Enma's line already to shake his hand. Hope it was worth it!" the sergeant said, pulling out his pistol.
Objections died on the villager's tongue. It was like his friend had just said. There was no point trying to reason with them. If anything, he regretted he hadn't done anything to truly defy the Red Ribbon before they killed him, he found, bracing himself for the end.
'Beloved, Suno, I'm sorry,' he thought.
"Power Pole Extend!" a boy shouted. Something red flashed through his sight and struck the sergeant's side. He was knocked down as the guards holding him pushed him away, pulling out their rifles. A few shots went off before he gathered his wits and noticed one of the still standing soldiers in the chaos was standing next to his head. Still firing.
'Screw it!' he thought, grabbing the man's foot and heaving with all his might to knock the startled man off his balance.
"What!? You!" the soldier, to his despair, didn't fall, catching himself and pointing the rifle down at his face. A small boy slammed into the soldier fist first, sending him sprawling.
"And that's four, should be the last of these little slave driver operations," A blonde woman said, walking up to join the boy. The man stared, stunned, around at the scattered utterly defeated Red Ribbon soldiers.
"Four? You mean everyone's free?" he asked, stunned. His fellows were coming up out of cover, sharing his amazement.
"Everyone accept that mayor guy, but there may be more of those tanks out there," the boy said.
"Here, head home and take this trash with you. The Red Ribbon don't seem the type to back down over their pals being held hostage, but it's worth a shot. Take the guns too, bullies aren't as prone to fight those who can fight back," she said, kicking the sergeant's pistol up off the snow and practically into his hands. He caught it reflexively and wondered how she did that.
"These won't do much good against tanks," he muttered.
"Jeeze, you people are ingrates," she rolled her eyes.
Despite his mind reeling, he lowered his eyes in shame. He'd been saved and freed in a matter of minutes, and he was complaining? What kind of example did he set as a father? The sound of capsules decompressing brought his thoughts back to the matter at hand.
And his jaw dropped at the sight of three bazookas and a small crate of what he assumed was ammo for such weapons.
"That's the last of my heavy weaponry capsules, ya hear! So don't go begging me for more! In fact, after we save that mayor and shove that tower up General White's back nine, you'd better have a heck of a feast for us, ya hear!"
"…Yes ma'am," he said, voice trembling.
"Alright! A big fight and a feast, this is gonna to be a great day, Launch," the boy said, before running off, kicking up a plume of snow as he zoomed off.
"Hey squirt, wait for me!" And she was gone then, too.
"…Why were they wearing Suno and my wife's coats?" he asked, as his buddies started picking up the weapons and seizing the Red Ribbon soldiers.
Author's Note:
And another one down.
Some questions: Are these chapter too short, would you prefer longer ones?
Is the weekly release model landing well?
And that done, I want to than you all for your continued support and wish you all a Merry Christmas! And if you don't celebrate Christmas or do at another time of year, I hope you have great week regardless and will be back next Friday.
Also to any PDJ fans reading I have a little something special as a Christmas present for you.
A good night to all, with goodwill toward all.