Prologue: The Three Idiot's Praxis
A/N: Hello and welcome to Journey of a Vichy Rebellion, my first foray into the world of fanfiction. To start our cast's journey off, a glimpse of the future before catching-up in real-time! This story was inspired by a few notable gems, such as the Star Wars series and the fanfiction Cold World by jjgp1112. Rest assured, you'll be able to enjoy an original plot, after all it's not everyday our main trio consist of Piccolo, Young Gohan, and Raditz (usually one out of these three are dead!)
Piccolo's POV
Well then, let's set the record straight, shall we? There's a good chance this will be my final transmission, my Ki is shot. The great Daimao King Piccolo, reigned into death by exhaustion, who would have thought. The truth is for all the false bravado, I've accepted what I am. A strongman, a monster, a betrayer - no different then all of the inhabitants of these planets which we've traveled through, the cosmic cycle a serpent with a taste for the only comparative power - itself. Despite his faith in me, unshakable in it's certainty that I of all people held a soul, it seems like in the end Son Goku will again find disappointment. That no-good idiot and his loose-lips.
Namek. Once that phrase was uttered out the invader's mouth, well, I knew I had to hedge my bets. Die for the man I hated, help in a fool's errand against one errant officer not knowing how vast his forces could be, or worse, an enemy so strong that he could enforce the mass extinction of a planet with his own will or..
Save the ru-Gohan, humiliate and avenge my predecessor. I still don't know how to feel about Son's death, but Gohan is a survivor. Hell, the look on that bald monk's face, you'd have thought he forgot I was evil - Goku's naivete would lend itself well in a course on how to speedrun to an early grave, still, it was the only option.
Maybe in another life..
Piccolo opened his eyes at Raditz' outburst - the ship he stole from Kami was only so large, the raspy strangled voice of the Saiyan bouncing off the walls, reminding the Namekian once again that the distant warrior was a far-cry from the cheery laze of Son.
Raditz for his part struck the child again, the training regiment on how to effectively use his tail in combat again filtered out partway through as Gohan attempted another life-threatening improvisation - for him or the brat he didn't know, Raditz surmised it might as well have been aimed as a ferocious vortex for the exhausted boy could barely raise his arm in time to block.
"Weakness is death, boy. Use that anger you had productively, like when you destroyed my Scouter back on that ball of dung you called a homeworld."
Raditz had sneered, at least Kakarot knew that much, the gullible fool maximizing his power in the briefest second before a strike's impact - no tail of course - a smirk, still, the same principle.
He eyed the Namek dubbed Piccolo, daring him to cross his attack on the runt, Gohan - still not a proper Saiyan name but he won't rob his brother of his offspring's namesake.
Still, Raditz was impressed, the green man hardly budged, the only giveaway was the stilted tapping of his fingers on his forearm - it was enough to know the loyalty was feigned, or at least difficult, but that Piccolo had restraint and a plan, he could respect that strength.
Many thought Raditz a fool, many underestimated him and it had led to him outsmarting and surviving many battles and learning information that normally fell silent with those very people's last breaths at his hands.
His thoughts turned to the half-Saiyan on the floor, the past few months of sailing through space and the vigorous exercises he had undergone had transformed him from a whimpering cretin to a fledgling prodigy who, while not high in stamina, more then made up for it with his mastery over the power of his Ki.
Not once did the boy complain, simply gazing at Raditz with a smoldering threat of a Ki-blade between his lungs.
Raditz's POV
That's it, brat. I bet your father felt that same rage towards me, but my brother died a respectable death - in battle for the defense of his planet.
A warrior's death, a life not wasted - surviving but not living, every moment a look over your shoulder or a knife in your back.
That's all your Uncle can give you, your birth-right by my bloodstained hands for the sake of our dwindled race - the last gasp of my ego and the death knell of Frieza's pride.
The dawn of a rebellion, however fruitless or deranged, this fetch-quest for these so-called Dragonballs.
Raditz had grabbed the map off the wall, the one Gohan had spent hours studying, a path home not found as Earth got farther away with every imagined battalion and battle formation drilled into his small lethal bones.
Gohan turned his head to his mentor, Mr. Piccolo.
Mr. Piccolo, who had risked his life for him.
Mr. Piccolo, who had traded his father's life to do it.
Gohan had thrown himself into the abuse that he endured by Raditz' hand, the pain keeping him stronger, mind numbed to a focus on becoming as skilled a mercenary as his uncle.
Mind focused on carving his name in his uncle's chest-plate as he screamed in agony.
Gohan had something to prove to Mr. Piccolo, a child's pettiness and an adult's scorn, he put more effort into his lessons from Raditz then he ever did with Piccolo, the honorific being reserved only when Gohan felt particularly cruel, a constant reminder of the strayed bond he had with dad's greatest nemesis.
Still, in tribute to his father, he never lost his glowing smile or ability to get creative - Raditz certainly seemed surprised when his jugular was narrowly missed by a sharpened Ki around his tail, and after that?
The smile his father left him beamed up at his uncle, his own little defiance at the only family member he had out in the far reaches of space.
But today Raditz did something that jolted Piccolo out of his meditative state as they sat for what looked like steamed squid to Gohan.
Raditz took out a marker, and drew - the ancient map from hundreds of years ago was outdated, Raditz explained, virtually all of the planets which dotted along the frayed paper had been either conquered, destroyed, renamed, or forcibly relocated.
Gohan wasn't too sure how that last one would even be possible, suppressing a shiver at the reminder that was his uncle's first lesson, that there would always be something stronger then you.
All eyes met each other as Raditz made the first announcement of their, as he put it, 'suicidal little brigade'.
"In two days time, we will reach an outpost. Dress warm."
And...that was it, Raditz shut the light off and turned to rest - no more information was deemed important enough for his prisoners it seemed, until Piccolo spoke up gruffly, switching the light back on.
"Now hold on just a minute - I'm not walking into some unknown planet-
But Raditz cut him off, his usual snark barking through; "Oh no Namek, you'll be staying hidden on the ship lest you turn Bertha into a powder keg, every merc will try to pop you to get rich-quick, they're not the most differentiating of folks."
An ugly smirk spread on Raditz' face as he continued.
"Wouldn't want you to be mistaken for a runaway slug."
The slur bounced off his lips with ease, light and airy, but the threat - and the order - was clear.
Piccolo sat back down, feigning humility but feeling satisfaction at learning the name of the planet.
All sense of satisfaction plummeted with his stomach as Raditz revealed Gohan would not, in fact, be hiding within the ship... because of course, what better way to attract unwanted attention then blending in with your murderous Uncle - Piccolo had to snort at that, the joke of two Saiyans walking into a bar practically writing itself.
The light switched off again, Planet Bertha awaited.
A/N: I leaned a bit into teasing Piccolo as somewhat of a narrator through his telepathy (vastly underutilized and overlooked ability). Readers knowledgeable on the canon events of the Raditz/Saiyan Saga will also notice discrepancies - their invasion of Earth and the events surrounding it went a bit different in this timeline, we'll be seeing bits and pieces of it throughout. No one trusts each other, all seem to hate each other, and some even want to kill each other - Who do we think will act on their motivations first?