Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Second Chances for Bardock's Sons ❯ Bulma's Big Rescue Attempt ( Chapter 6 )

Second Chances For Bardock's Son's

By Trynia Merin aka StarbearerTM

 

Bulma's Rescue Attempt

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z or Dragon Ball. I only own Tomic, Cabernet, and a few other fan characters. Toriyama and Funimation Toei Bird Studios Shuesha own DBZ. I don't get rich off this! This is Fan fiction! Don't sue me!

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Meanwhile a hundred miles away from the Red Ribbon fortress Bulma turned to Yamcha who was driving a cherry red hydro jet, the newest of Capsule's vehicles. He had tied back his long hair that hung at the nape of his neck. Clad in a fine suit, the Desert Bandit was now a gentleman. Next to him, Bulma typed on her laptop, wearing thick glasses and her hair up in a conservative bun. She wore a pencil skirt that coordinate with a powder grey blazer and frilly blouse. Black stiletto heels completed the executive look, adding at least ten years to her age. Glancing at her compact she nodded in self satisfaction, knowing she exuded nerd. Gone was the Capsule Corps Princess, replaced with a nerdy scientist type.

 

“What was that about Prince Charming?” Yamcha joked.

 

“Nothing,” Bulma said as she fiddled with the scouter. Placing it on her face, she beamed the focus towards the largest source. So far the small program had computed the basics of the symbols, translating them into relative numbers. She used Yamcha and Krillen's kis as a baseline through the scouter, then Goku's as a maximum. Whatever Tomic's reading was had to be at least double Goku's or triple.

 

“To the east. The Rock Mountains,” Bulma directed. Snow whirled around the hydro jet, flickering against the windshield. Bulma grabbed the controls from Yamcha, much to his dismay.

 

“Hey!”

 

“You're going too damn slow,” Bulma complained. Yamcha held his stomach, groaning as she gunned the accelerator. With a roar the engines flicked into afterburner, blowing the craft forwards. Soon they flew over open ocean, approaching distant mountains shrouded in white. Narrowing his eyes, Yamcha saw craggy snow covered slopes, complete with dark clouds billowing around them. Bulma navigated through the heart of the blizzard that suddenly swirled around them. Winds buffeted the cruiser.

 

“Bulma take it easy!”

 

“Hang on you wimpazoid, it's not THAT bad!” she glared at him.

 

“Tell that to my stomach!” Yamcha grimaced, his face turning green. He clung to the edge of the control panel, praying to Kami that she would land soon.

 

“Up ahead, does that look familiar?” Bulma pointed.

 

“That tower looks a hell of a lot like the one you and Goku described, but that's the one that got blown up! Surely they aren't stupid enough to…” he gasped. Suddenly Bulma's scouter bleeped, indicating two huge power readings. Simultaneously Yamcha's eyes widened in horror.

 

“They're there, but what's THAT?” she gasped. Close up loomed a huge fortress surrounded by thirty foot walls. Smoke billowed up from one of the huge eight towers further in. Explosions blossomed in the snowfall, lighting up the sheets of white in crimson.

 

“Look OUT!” Yamcha gasped, as explosions buffeted around them.

 

“They SHOT at me! Those jerks! I can't believe it…”

 

“It's not US they're shooting at!” Yamcha pointed. “He's HERE!”

 

“Who?”

 

“Piccolo!” pointed Yamcha. A green figure streaked towards them, narrowly colliding as Bulma whirled the control stick then yanked up. Yamcha tugged against his seatbelt, gasping and hoping it wouldn't tear.

 

Suddenly another explosion slammed into the wing. Bulma shrieked, struggling to regain control as they spun over and over. Sky became ground in a blurring spiral. Yamcha tore open his seat belt, grabbed Bulma around the waist, and hit the canopy button. Shrieking, she clung to him for dear life as he levitated out of the craft. Far below them it crashed into a snow bank, exploding spectacularly against the wall.

 

“Man that was close,” he gasped.

 

“Don't EVER do that again without WARNING me!” Bulma complained, panting as she clung to his neck with a stranglehold.

 

“Bulma… I can't… breathe,” Yamcha gasped. She eased up, glaring at him.

 

“What the hell was that?”

 

“Three guesses and the first two don't count,” Yamcha pointed, as the green figure circled back around, hovering just before them. He carried a figure over his shoulders, who was struggling against him.

 

“Kami,” Bulma yelped, hugging Yamcha tightly.

 

“I'm going to put you down. Stay hidden. I'll handle him,” Yamcha said.

 

“No way!” Bulma said angrily. She reached for a capsule, clicking it open. It exploded into an air bike which she quickly fired up, and leapt onto so Yamcha could release her.

 

“Get away!” Yamcha yelled.

 

“Put her down!” Bulma yelled. “Yamcha, help her! He's got the monkey woman! Get her to drop him, and then distract him.”

 

“You got it babe,” said Yamcha. He aimed a spirit ball towards Piccolo. It slammed right into his shoulder, knocking him into a dive. As the bandit hoped, Piccolo released the armored figure, which dropped to the snow. Slowly she pushed up, shaking snow off her.

 

“YOU!” Piccolo shouted, catching sight of Yamcha hovering there.

 

“That's right, jerk! You and I have unfinished business!” Yamcha shouted, placing his hands at his size. Slowly he gathered his energy, surging it into a kamehameha blast.

 

"You're a waste of my time, human," King Piccolo had grunted. "I've got better things to do, now that I'm free! Now get the HELL out of my way!"

 

“KA me ha me HA!” Yamcha bellowed, hurling a stream of blue ki towards Piccolo. Caught off guard, the Namek barely crossed his wrists in time. HE had expected this from Goku, not from a mere human. To his shock Yamcha's ki leapt to nearly double what he had sensed before.

 

Meanwhile Bulma gunned her air bike towards the armored figure. Tomic spat out snow, standing shakily up. Bulma landed next to her, slowly pulling her shoulder under Tomic to lever her up. “Hey, easy there!”

 

“Woman,” gasped Tomic, blinking at her. “What are YOU doing here?”

 

“Here to save you, silly!” Bulma said brightly. “Just get onto my air bike. You look awful!”

 

“You shouldn't get involved, human. It's TOO dangerous,” Tomic rasped. Blood dripped from her arm, while she staggered weakly. Bulma pulled her onto the bike, getting her to sit down.

 

“What's wrong? Are you hungry or something? You look like hell…”

 

“I'm starving,” she gasped, holding her stomach. “Piccolo knocked me out. You mustn't…”

 

“Shut up and GET on the damn bike!” Bulma snapped. Tomic blinked at the human, and realized she was going to be stupidly stubborn. Yamcha and Piccolo faced off, landing opposite one another in the snow. Quickly they attacked with a flurry of punches, distracting one another's attention. Dizzily Tomic climbed up behind Bulma, holding her around the waist as she gunned the engine.

 

“Now let's get the HELL out of here, hang on!” Bulma yelled. Shaking her head, the Saiyan female tried to not crush the fragile human female's ribs. They shout out through the snow, towards the cover of one of the fortress walls.

 

“Here, let's get you some food, and some shelter. Yamcha's gonna keep Piccolo occupied,” Bulma said, stopping the air bike just beside one of the larger blocks that had tumbled down. She tossed down a capsule that exploded into a small fridge. Tomic remained seated on the bike, letting go of Bulma so she could open up the fridge and pull out portions of food, such as sandwiches and other ready made things. Hastily the Saiyan female devoured at least ten before the ground vibrated with more rumbling explosions.

 

“This is yours, I believe,” said Bulma, handing the scouter to her.

 

“You are awfully trusting, human,” said Tomic. “Why did you save me?”

 

“Cause you saved me, dummy! What do you think?” Bulma glared at her. “Duh!”

 

“My thanks,” she said, feeling her strength returning. “But you should get away.”

 

“don't start with that crap again, okay! I'm rescuing you and that's final. So just shut up, and eat so you can get your strength back and beat Piccolo's ass!” Bulma ordered.

 

“As you command,” Tomic laughed in amusement. No matter the world, this Bulma was just as authoritative as the one she recalled from what seemed another existence.

 

“Better?” she asked.

 

“Much. Now let's help that paramour of yours,” said Tomic, feeling far better then she had in hours. “He's over there, and his battle power is dropping.”

 

“I'm right by you, lady,” said Bulma, leaping onto her air bike. “I've got the latest in ray guns right HERE!”

 

“Stay alive, will you, and let me do the rescuing, please… don't take any unnecessary risks, please?” Tomic cautioned.

 

“I don't usually do what anybody says but I'll try,” Bulma laughed. “let's get his ass!”

 

Tomic blasted off, followed by Bulma. They rounded the fortress, picking off red Ribbon troops that were firing on them as well. Two figures, one purple, the other in silver lame shout out towards them. Bulma opened fire, peppering the female figure with her newest gun mounted laser, while Tomic generated three small spheres. They spun around her like electrons in an orbital, blocking the beams that the Frankenstein hurled her way.

 

“Give up! Don't make us hurt you!” he urged.

 

“You're a naughty monkey. Get back in your cage, and we won't kill you or your little friend!” the female android laughed. A name badge said Violet on it, matching her hair and clothing perfectly.

 

“Shut the hell up!” Bulma yelled, whirling her bike around and firing rapid pulses. She avoided each crimson blast hurled towards her by the silver suited female android.

 

One of the small spheres orbiting the Saiyan veered off, exploding right in the Frankenstein's face. The second and third slammed right into the female android, knocking her head over heels. A final blast from Bulma's gun sent her hurtling into the snow bank.

 

“ALL RIGHT!” Bulma laughed.

 

“Nice shooting,” Tomic nodded. She rammed no 8 with her shoulder, knocking him flat. He grasped her ankle, puling her down on top of him. They rolled over, snow flying as she pushed up, her fingers locking with his. Bulma watched as she saw the female Saiyan shoving hard against the Frankenstein, barely breaking a sweat.

 

“Yield, please!” 8 urged.

 

“I'm sorry but I chose not to!” Tomic said. “Since you're so hell bent on being benevolent I'm ending this now.”

 

She thrust up, sending him flying. He crashed dazed into a nearby wall. Tomic blurred out, then appeared before him. Raising her fist she brought it down on the back of his skull. Groaning, he blissfully plummeted into unconsciousness. Bulma laughed, not noticing the swirl of snow behind her. A silver figure moved up, grasping Bulma from behind.

 

“Not so fast, dearie, you're MINE!” Violet aka No. Six laughed.

 

“Let me GO!” Bulma yelled.

 

“Bulma!” Tomic shouted. She hurled a blast towards the female, knocking the arm that held Bulma's neck in a choke hold. With a look of horror, 6 saw her arm break in two pieces while Bulma collapsed into the snow. Tomic rushed forwards, standing over the blue haired human.

 

“You will SO pay for that, monkey bitch!” 6 shrilled. Her other hand blazed with crimson power, as she held her stump of a wrist close. It didn't even bleed. Hydraulic fluid dripped down into the white snow.

 

Piccolo stood there with his mouth open wide. Yamcha landed before him, facing off with his scimitar drawn. "You stay AWAY from Bulma, you hear?"

 

"What are YOU looking at? You should be thankful your miserable life was spared. Now step BACK from her or I'll end your life MYSELF! You'd better not stop me!” Piccolo yelled.

 

"You why you!" Yamcha growled.

 

“Tell me WHERE the female is now, or I'll destroy you with some new moves I guarantee will leave you full of holes,” Piccolo snapped.

 

“No can do!” Yamcha laughed, circling his arms. “Wolf fang FIST!”

 

A rapid flurry of punches slammed into Piccolo, far faster than he could anticipate. Each swipe scraped across his chest. Unfortunately he didn't account for the sudden ki blast that slammed into Yamcha at point blank range, knocking him back.

 

"Out of my way, runt," Piccolo grunted. "You'd better tell Goku that I plan on kicking his ass for what he did. You're lucky I'm making YOU the messenger. He's not to seek me out till the Tournament. We'll settle things THERE!"

 

Tomic generated a ki ball, holding it steadily towards six. The two females exchanged death ray stares. So intent was Tomic on covering Bulma that she failed to notice Dr. Gero shaking snow off of him. He bounded up quickly, firing a crossbow bolt. Bulma heard a putt of compressed air, and then something landed right at the base of Tomic's tail. She bellowed, dropping to her knees.

 

“Not so tough are you, animal,” laughed Dr. Gero, firing another bolt at her.

 

“Rot in hell,” she gasped, woozy from the tranquilizer darts. Bulma gasped in horror to see more whizzing towards her, some hitting her bare arms, while others lodged in her legs. Howling, the Saiyan grabbed Bulma's waist, trying to levitate up. Six bounded over, and hurled a blast of energy towards the woozy female veering out of control.

 

Her vision blurred as Tomic crumpled into the snow again. Bulma landed on a hard armored surface, realizing Tomic had twisted herself so she broke the girl's fall. “Hey… are you okay?” she gasped.

 

“You may be, but she's not,” Dr. Gero cackled, moving close on one side as Six moved up.

 

“You… I know you… it' can't be,” Bulma gasped. “You sick bastard!”

 

“Miss Briefs, it's been a while. You've become quite a pretty woman,” he laughed, reaching out his hand. Tomic groaned, unable to move. Six grabbed the object Gero tossed her, clapping a ki dampening collar around Tomic's neck again. Groaning she tried to power up, but her strength fizzled. Gero pulled Bulma out of the Saiyan's arms.

 

“Let me go you asshole!” Bulma yelped, kicking and spitting like a cat. Gero held her easily, snapping a pair of cuffs on her hands to stop her.

 

“Oh no, I can't do that. You're far too valuable a hostage. In fact, you're a bonus I didn't' anticipate,” he laughed.

 

“Yamcha!” Bulma screamed. “Help!”

 

Both Piccolo and Yamcha stared in the direction of the scream. “Oh hell…” Yamcha gasped.

 

“Looks like you have a problem fool,” Piccolo said. He punched Yamcha in the gut, knocking him flat.

 

“You…” Yamcha wheezed, sinking like a lead balloon.

 

Piccolo turned away, aiming a series of ki blasts. One slammed into six first, exploding right into her head. It rolled off her neck into the snow, bouncing a few times to land near Bulma's feet. Another blast from Piccolo hit Dr. Gero in the chest. Caught off guard, Gero crashed into the snow. Taking off, Piccolo rocketed over and grabbed both Bulma under one arm, then Tomic.

 

“What are you doing,” gasped Bulma. “Let me GO!”

 

“I'm doing you a favor. So SHUT up!” Piccolo snapped. He rocketed away at top speed, carrying a screaming Bulma and an unconscious Saiyan.

 

“YAMCHA Help!” she screamed. Groaning, Yamcha lifted his head to see Piccolo rocketing off into the distance carrying his girlfriend and the alien who had saved him.

 

“Shut up!” Piccolo hollered at Bulma.

 

“You let me GO!” she shrilled.

 

“I'm only going to say this once! I could have left you to ROT back there, so be GLAD you're alive!” Piccolo bellow in her ear.

 

“Goku will come after you, and you'll be SORRY!” Bulma shrilled.

 

“That's what I hope happens. Because I have you as a hostage, Goku has no choice but to enter the World Tournament. He and I are going to settle the score. If he does this I promise to leave the rest of you weaklings alone. But if he turns me down, you'll ALL suffer!"

 

“Not if Yamcha and the Z warriors stop you first!” Bulma snapped. She yelped as Piccolo released his grip on her.

 

“Don't tempt me to drop you!” Piccolo warned.

 

“Kuso!” she screamed, clinging to his arm.

 

“Shut up or I'll drop you and the monkey woman,” Piccolo warned.

 

“Okay, you win, but you can't expect Goku to go along with this!” she panted, feeling her stomach squirming at the sight of nothing but open air between her and the rushing ground. Piccolo held her around the waist, at one hip.

 

“If he defeats me, then you won't have to worry. But if I win, I still take over the world, but you'll all be spared as long as you stay out of my way. West City won't suffer the fate of the others," Piccolo said. "Either way you can't refuse, because it's between Goku and me. And for extra insurance, I've got you.”

 

“Oh GREAT,” she snorted. “Are you going to kill me?”

 

“No. You're no use to me dead. So far you'll be pretty comfortable. But I can't guarantee you'll STAY that way if Goku doesn't enter the tournament. So you're going to call him, and tell him what's going on. And you might suggest asking your other Z warrior friends to enter to make things more interesting. If you do that, I promise that I won't hurt Goku till the Budokai.”

 

“How can I trust you'll keep your word?”

 

“You can't. But I'm not a monster like the Red Ribbon army. In fact I'll make sure they don't harm anyone till the tournament,” Piccolo said.

 

“I'm surprised you're not working for them,” she grunted.

 

"Please, they're only a means to an end. Once they've served their purpose I've no more use for them," said Piccolo. "You think I'd let humans do what I could do myself?”

 

“But you have your army too!”

 

“These guys are just mercenaries. They serve me because I pay them well enough,” Piccolo snorted. He rocketed towards the rocky mountainous region, having crossed over the sea and left the north frozen wastes far behind.

 

Up ahead she saw the looming shape of another fortress, a castle this time. It in some ways resembled that of Chiautzu's place, but with more personal touches. On the battlements large mortars and guns were positioned. Missile launchers trained their ammunition towards every possible direction. Piccolo surged towards them, his purple ki forming a protective shell against the slashing wind. Unmolested they landed safely inside the large courtyard behind twenty foot rock walls.

 

Mercenaries wearing white turbans and blue uniforms rushed up. Bulma pressed her lips shut when Piccolo shot her a warning glare that clearly meant to keep silent. He barked orders to his men, who grabbed Bulma and Tomic.

 

“Take our guest to a suite of rooms. She'll be here for a while. Make her comfortable. Put the other female in the holding cell. I'll see her later. Provide her with food when she wakes. Go with Captain Scarlet, Miss Briefs and you'll have a change of clothes and food. But don't' try anything stupid.”

 

“You're awfully hospitable to an enemy,” she snorted, glaring at him.

 

“I promised that you'd be comfortable. Cooperate, and you and your alien friend will be fine. But disobey and you'll be treated far less hospitably, I guarantee it!” Piccolo glared at her. “Now GO!”

 

“This way, Miss,” Captain Scarlet said politely. “Lieutenant Charlene, take our guest to the visitors' quarters. You'll have all you need, Miss.”

 

“Thank you,” Bulma mumbled, letting the female officer take her arm. She stumbled after, glaring over her shoulder at Piccolo.

 

“I'm not as bad as you think, human,” Piccolo snorted. Turning, he flared his white cape and followed the group loading Tomic into a large cage on the back of a truck.